Modern Necromancy Quest: Redux

There is a diagram of an intricate, complex series of shapes on the opposite page. It's comprised mostly of thin, looping circles that meet in the middle as well as a few triangles seeming to connect some of the different circles. The whole affair is contained within a single larger circle. Looking at it makes your head spin.

Then, three candles are lit, one each for Birth, Life, and Death, the three gateposts of existence on this plane. These are placed around the circle. Now comes the most crucial step; the libation. Good wine should be found and warmed, and certain herbs added. For the raising of a shade the most common are Lavender, Pennyroyal, and Thyme. Pomegranate seeds, mugwort, elderberries, and the bark or root taken from the cedar tree may be utilised by the diligent or nervous apprentice, but are far from necessary. The harvest and storage of these herbs need not be special, but if certain preparations are taken their potency may be improved.
To this libation must be added that which the shade wants above all, blood, the truest elixir of life to those beyond death's gate. The greater the quantity, the more powerful the bonds drawing the shade to our world. For a small summoning as this, a few drops will suffice.
When the remains are in the circle, the candles lit and the libation mixed, the spirit must be summoned by voice as the libation is poured over the remains and the circle. The words themselves do not matter, so long as the meaning is intact. The summoner must call the spirit, demand it return to the world it left with blood and wine as its reward. If all other instructions have been followed, a shade shall appear to do your will.

Well. Seems simple enough, anyway. You're sure you can find most of the herbs in the kitchen or the garden--though it is pretty late, so you'll have to be quiet to avoid waking your family. Wine and candles are in the pantry, and you know you've got chalk stashed away here somewhere. Now how to find some remains...?

>But wait! Before we get too far ahead of ourselves...what's your name? Your gender?
>How do you go about finding animal remains at this time of night? Should you just throw the towel in for now?
///
This quest follows your attempts to become a master of the dark arts...or just pick up chicks in your kickass skeleton car. This is the remake of the original, and while many parts are similar and the rules are much the same, a lot of things are different as well and things will diverge more and more as we continue on.
Decisions are simple majority, with a d2 as a tiebreaker. Write-ins encouraged. Rolls are made after a decision has been decided on. Rolling is best of three d20s, first three is the rule. If there’s a crit (nat1 or nat20) it extends to first five. Good luck.

>>747138
>Mark Harrison, Male
>One of the neighbors has to have a dead pet buried in their backyard

>>747138
>Girl
I want to be cheeky but I can't remember any names from last time. Just going with Liz for now. And lets go out and see what we can find. Maybe an armadillo or something.
Nice to see ya back Skelly, this was a ton of fun back when it started but went to shit real quick once ya left. Don't know if I'll stick around for the full ride yet, but I'll be around for a while regardless.

>>747138
Alissa Dougherty, 15 years old. Goth practitioner.

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>747172
>>747164
>>747189
We have two for girl, so tiebreaker is the name.
1 says Liz
2 says Alissa
Glad to have somebody from the old days back again. For the record, I'll be waiting 10-ish minutes after first post before writing, maybe more if it's a big one.
Unfortunately, age is already set at 18. Too relevant to the plot, I'm afraid.

>>747138
>>747191
Gather supplies first, practice the drawings, let's play with roadkill later

>>747212
Sorry anon, two people specified looking for remains first.

>>747191
You think for a moment, scratching your chin. Animal remains, animal remains...roadkill! Of course, in this part of suburbia, surrounded by woods, there’s got to be some sort of dead thing lying around. You slide off the bed, noticing with a wince that it’s practically 2:00 in the morning by now, at least according to the dull red glow of your alarm clock. The mailman is notorious for working bizarre hours ever since the car crash this spring, but this is a new low.
You slip into a pair of sneakers and exchange your sweats for a pair of beat up old jeans—after all, if you’re going to be hauling around corpses it won’t do to ruin anything nice, will it? You peak your head out the door, on high alert now that you realize what time it is. The house seems quiet enough though, and you head swiftly for the back door, flashlight snagged from the porch shelf on your way out.
It’s chillier than you’d imagine for a late June night, but not bad by any means. You’re just about to circle around to the front of the house when you see that Dad forgot to put the shovel back in the garden shed again and a thought hits you. A bad thought. The kind of thought that makes you feel a little embarrassed when you come back to it later. Then again, it’s a sure source of bones…
You grab the shovel and, with a bit of a run-up, jump the short wooden fence separating your yard from your neighbor’s. After a hushed moment spent crouching in the bushes, you jog over to the patch under the crabapple tree and start digging. [I] It’s not really that bad [/i] You tell yourself, flinging shovelful after shovelful of dirt and rocks to the side. [I] He was really more of a neighborhood stray than his pet, after all. And I was the one who made the coffin.[/i]
Finally, you hit paydirt. A shoebox, with lines and whorls imitating wood grain drawn on in black crayon. At least, that’s what it was when you put it in the ground eight years ago. Now it’s just a few tatters of unidentifiable matter, and underneath, white bones peeking out from clay soil.
Feeling like a graverobber, you snatch up one without looking and toss it to the side, filling in the hole as quickly as you can. Once you’re done you tamp it down and spread dead leaves on top, figuring nobody will care enough to examine it. After all, why would anybody dig up the grave of a nice old tomcat after eight long years?
You grab the bone, and can’t help but giggle a little. You’d snagged the skull without even realizing it. Well, at least it’ll go well with the fake Necronomicon you’ve got on the shelf.
(1/2)

>>747261
You get back to your room uneventfully, and raid the kitchen for the herbs you need. Everything’s found easily enough—you’re lucky your Dad’s on such good terms with that old man at the herbalist shop on South street. You head back into your room, the herbs and dirt-encrusted cat skull relegated to the corner for now, and grab a few sheets of blank paper from a notebook, laying them next to the Grimoire.
You squint, and with a mechanical pencil, try to copy the circle for practice. It’s harder than it looks, all the loops and strange angles, and you can’t seem to follow any of the lines straight through. This is gonna take some effort...
(2/2)

>>747265
>Roll d20 to try to practice
>Finding someplace to do all this is more important than practicing the drawing. Your room has carpet, after all, and nothing stains like wine. Where will you set up?
>write-in

Rolled 17 (1d20)

>>747281
If we can get down there without making too much of a stir lets check out the basement.

Rolled 2 (1d20)

>>747281
basement, of course

Rolled 7 (1d20)

>>747281
Thirding basement

>>747291
>>747293
>>747305
Smells like meta in here boys.
You hold the book back for a second and just stare at the diagram. Before you'd been looking at one line at a time, trying to deconstruct it, to break it down to its most basic components. You can see now that going about it that way would never work. What makes the circle is its interactions, how the complicated semi-spirals fade into diagonal twists that merge with three other lines to form a cohesive whole, shouting its meaning into your brain. You start to grasp it, to understand just a corner at a time, until ever so slowly, you begin to recreate it.
It's harder than you would have imagined to take the image you can see so clearly in your head and copy it over to the paper, but after a solid 20 minutes and a recycling bin's worth of tries, you manage it. Sitting on the paper in front of you is the same circle, perfectly recreated down to every last line. You get the feeling that it'll be easier to recreate it again, now that you've practiced.
Now where to go about the whole thing...obviously your room is out of the question. To say nothing of the lack of privacy, it seems like tempting fate to mess around with candles, wine, and blood in a carpeted room. Maybe...the basement? You've never actually been down there, since the only way in is a small square door attached to the outside of the house on the far side. It's not exactly a big door either, Dad has to bend over double just to fit in, and he's not exactly a big guy. Still, beggars and choosers and all that, right?
Wrapping up the baggie of herbs and the cat skull in a ratty old towel, you head to the pantry and grab a bottle of cooking wine and a few tealights from the shelves. Certainly nothing that will be missed, so long as you're careful about how you dispose of it.
Holding the awkward load, you head out the back door again and shuffle towards the basement door. Laying down the towel, you yank it open to reveal...a crawlspace. Barely three-foot tall, and a sandy floor, with bare insulation surrounding the single bare bulb. Fuck.
You do remember Dad mentioning something about flood insurance and being too close to the river for a real basement, but that was so long ago...now what to do?
You lean against the house, thinking hard. You know there's an old treehouse from when you were a kid about ten minutes into the wood, but who knows if it's still standing? The crawlspace has it's problems, but it's a lot closer and probably a lot more private as well. You're sure there are other possibilities, but those are all you can think of right now.
>fuck it, this'll do. Find a way to draw the circle
>This is no good. To the treehouse we go.
>write-in

>>747356
>This is no good. To the treehouse we go

>>747356
>>fuck it, this'll do. Find a way to draw the circle

>>747383
>>747401
Flipped a coin, writing for treehouse.

Yeah, no way are you messing around with eldritch powers beyond your control or understanding in a crawlspace with more spiders than headroom. Best to go to the treehouse. You sigh and sling the towel over your shoulder, cradling the wine to your chest and tucking the lights and chalk into your pockets as best you can.
10 minutes later, you’ve forced your way through the undergrowth and enough thorny blackberries bushes to dye an elephant purple, and the treehouse is there. It’s not as high as you remember, barely 20 feet up in the lower limbs of a truly ancient pine tree, the treehouse’s weather-faded wood almost matching the color of its mottled bark. The only way up is a nearly vertical ladder leading to a trap door that opens up into the space.
You pause for a moment, debating, but decide taking two trips is for wimps; besides, you’ve got a definite time limit. If you’re not back at the house when the sun comes up, Mom’s sure to freak. You tuck the wine bottle into the towel, tying the top off securely so nothing spills out, and start up the ladder. It creaks and groans as you put your weight on it, but seems steady enough.
It’s a real pain climbing with only one arm, but at least it’s not very far. After just a few moments, you reach the trap door and swing it open, poking your head up into the treehouse. It’s dark, and unsurprisingly dirty. Hauling the towel-bag up through the trap-door, you follow close behind and flick on the light on your phone to get a better look.
It hasn’t changed much, you have to admit. Roughly-hewn pine boards nailed together, a window facing out into the woods and away from the house, and a couple of 5-gallon buckets to serve as chairs all stacked up in the corner. You test the floor in a few spots to make sure it’ll take your weight, and though it flexes unnervingly, it holds and doesn’t splinter or crack.
You set the towel next to the buckets, leaning your phone up against the wall to light the whole room, and take out your chalk. With a deep breath, you lean down and start inscribing the circle on the floor. It’s harder than before, considering the size and the less-than-optimal worksurface, but you think you’ve got the hang of it. You think.
>roll 1d20 for artistic ability

Rolled 17 (1d20)

>>747447
drawin time!

>>747458
Writing.
Probably gonna wait for at least 2-3 responses on the next one.

Mr. Skelly, please insert lots more line breaks, you're dazzling my eyes.

Rolled 17 (1d20)

>>747447
We can Art!

>>747520
This please.

>>747520
>>747572
>dans detected
Okay I guess.

>>747525
>>747458
You focus entirely on the uneven floor of the suspended cabin, gripping the thin stub of chalk so tightly your fingers turn white. After a brief pause to steel your nerves, you begin, chalk bumping along from one board to the next and leaving its unbroken line behind it. The first circle comes easily enough, each shape fitting into and suggesting the next like a complex geometric crossword. Tesselations growing together, weaving into a cohesive whole unlike any other pattern you’d ever seen before this night.

Finally, you finish, somehow feeling as though you’d sprinted down the block or lifted weights for an hour, as though you’d experienced some great exertion when the most you’d done was scratch a multilayered symbol into the floor.

Leaning back, you’re careful not to drag the hem of your jeans over the circle. You’re pretty sure if you smudged it the summoning just wouldn’t work—but you don’t want to test that theory any time soon. You untwist the bottle of cooking wine and pour a little out the window, hearing it splatter against the ground below. It’s probably a waste and it might bring ants, but you didn’t bring a mixing bowl or anything, so you’ll have to mix the libation in the bottle.

It’s a pain shoving all the herbs into the narrow neck, but thankfully most of them are powdered or dried. Once you’ve added everything, and double-checked that you hadn’t forgotten one thing or another, you plug up the mouth of the bottle and shake it vigorously. A thin pink foam rises to the surface, flecks of grey-green thyme leaves floating to the surface.

The candles are easy enough, and you thank whatever god is listening that you already had a lighter in these pants. You make sure to place the three of them at the points of the largest triangle where they touch the outermost circle, figuring that’s the best place for them. It takes a second to light the fiddly little wicks the tea-lights come with, but soon they’re burning well enough.

Now for the hard part. You pick up the skull and rub off the worst of the dirt, placing it in the middle of the circle gently, again being careful not to blur any lines. You upend the wine bottle and pour at least a quarter of it over the skull, until it feels like it’s good and soaked in. Having done that, you hold your hand over the circle and, trying not to hesitate, scratch hard at a scab you’d gotten from a broken water glass just yesterday. It hurts, but after a second, a few small drops of red well to the surface. They slowly coalesce, gaining in size until they form a pendulous mass—and falling down, down, smacking against the yellowing bone of the cat skull. There. Libation and blood.

Now, it’s just the evocation...what to say?
>How do you call forward the spirit of the cat?

>>747582
Come to me Cat 'o Night.
We shall deliver such a Fright.
With Fur as Black as Night.
You shall surely show them your Might.

>>747582
>>How do you call forward the spirit of the cat?
Wiggle a piece of string, pausing, and dragging it along the floor.

>>747582
Keep meowing until it shows up.

>>747592
This is how you get a cat to ignore you.

>>747582
Scratch the ground

Bribe it with tuna!

You try to remember what the grimoire said about the evocation. The form doesn’t matter, right, so long as the meaning makes sense? In that case, the meaning should probably be something that makes sense to a cat. You think for a few seconds, and go over to the towel, ripping off a hanging thread. This has gotta work.

Dragging the bit of string along the ground, you wiggle it every few inches, doing your best meow. You mix in a few scratches every now and then, trying to make them as cat-like as possible. Talking to the cat in its own language makes sense, doesn’t it? You keep this up for a minute or so before it becomes painfully obvious that it’s not working. With a sigh, you sit back and rethink your strategy.

You guess you could try saying actual words, but where’s the fun in that? Still, if your original genius plan didn’t work you might as well try it. Stepping forward towards the circle, you clear your throat and speak, a simple rhyme coming to your head as you talk.

“Come to me Cat o’ the Night.
We shall deliver such a Fright.
With your Fur as Black as Night.
You shall show them all your Might!”

After a brief and disappointing pause, you step back from the circle again, even more confused than before. There’s no way. All this felt...it felt real. You realize with a sinking sensation that you’ve probably lost it. Digging up a dead cat, pouring blood on its skull and obsessing over strange symbols in a book? Time to--

Before you can finish your thought, a strange glow distracts you. For a moment you imagine you’ve left your phone on and the screen’s turned on, but your phone is still leaning up against the wall as a light. Your head snaps towards the circle, and you see that the glow isn’t from your phone. It’s from the skull.

A dozen tiny motes of a pale, almost pastel blue light are dancing around the skull, floating through empty eye sockets and between yellowed teeth. They seem to be pouring out of the brain cavity, more of them every second, the glow increasing in magnitude until it hurts to look directly at it. Soon the entire skull is coated in the motes, and they begin to melt together, to solidify into a single illuminated mass. The light lifts up, leaves the skull behind, and floats above it, beginning to take on a definite shape and leaving behind its amorphous state.
(1/2)

>>747693
Before your eyes, it slowly stretches out, tendrils sinking down toward the ground, gaining definition, until it gains the pattern of striped fur, tails and four paws becoming distinguishable. The process gains speed as it continues until, floating about two feet off the ground in front of you, is a glowing blue tomcat with a chewed up ear and a scar across its mouth.

It seems to smile, and with a voice like clumping, rancid oil, all vile smoothness and guile, it speaks
“Why hello, my lady. Never in my days did I imagine that I would see the kind little neighborgirl again, and certainly not in these circumstances. How do you do? Oh, and may I ask...why, exactly, have you summoned me?”

How do you answer?
>To answer my questions (suggest things to ask him)
>To gain power
>To gain knowledge
>write-in
(2/2)

>>747694
>>To gain knowledge

>>747694
I have summoned you to answer a few questions.
1. Do you have a purpose?
2. Can you guide me or lend me insights?
3. Am I the only one in the Modern time?

>>747716
>>747723
Writan

>>747739
“I summoned you to answer my questions, and to bring me knowledge.” You answer, proud your voice didn’t tremble. You don’t think anyone should fault you for being just a little nervous around the ghost of a dead cat you brought back from the afterlife, but you feel like you’d lose points with it if you showed it.

“Then ask away, my lady.” he answers, seeming to do its best impression of a Cheshire grin and lazily lying down, its tail flicking through the air. “If I can answer a question, I am bound to do so.”

“First, Cat, do you have a purpose?” It seems surprised, looking at you curiously.

“Only that purpose which you give me, my lady.” After a moment its face clears and it does an unpleasant rendition of a chuckle. “Ahh, have you neglected your studies? Not listened to your master nor noted the tomes which explain my myriad uses? No matter, I would be more than pleased to explain.

“I am a simple shade, and as such, I am capable of these things. I may invisibly follow your allies, or your enemies, and report back to you at a later time. I may move through gates which stymie you, and describe that which is on the other side. I may share what little knowledge I have of your art, though it seems it may be more than yours--” it gives another sly grin “--and if adequately energised by offerings, I may make small changes to the material world. The movement of a pen, the unlatching of a lock, such things as that.”

Well, that answers your second question. You regret not reading further into the grimoire section on shades before moving forward, but at least now you know. Finally, you have to ask what’s been on your mind ever since you picked up that paper-wrapped package…
“Am I the only one in these times?” Your heart is thudding in your chest, dreading the answer. The cat-spirit laughs once more.

“The only necromancer? Hardly! Your kind may be rarer than it once was, but by no means have they disappeared! In fact...” The spirit circles in mid air, pacing around the width of the circle, then settling back down, nose twitching. “From the smell of it, I would say you are not even the only one in this town. Now, anything else before you dismiss me and return to your long-neglected studies in this practice of yours?”

How do you answer?
>Yes, I have more questions (What do you ask?)
>No, that will be all. You may go (extinguish the candles)
>No more questions, but I would like you to-- (give a command)

>>747799
>>No more questions, but I would like you to-- (Spy and report on my family and scout how many necromancers are in this town)

>>747799
I'm goingng with this. >>747835

>>747835
>>747843
Okay, writing

“No, I have no more questions.” The cat-spirit begins to stand up, stretching in that deliciously easy way all cats have mastered by birthright.
“I do, however, have a task for you.” you finish. The cat pretends to groan, but you catch an inkling of interest in its flat blue eyes.

“Oh? And what might that be?” it asks, quirking its head to the side
“I would like you to spy on my family and report their movements back to me.” The cat seems deflated.
“Truly? You summon my spirit from beyond the veil of eternal sleep and ask me to do a thing that you yourself could, had you any brains? Fine. I will do it, but not happily.”
“Lucky for me you don’t have to be. Secondly, scout out all the necromancers in town for me.” This time, it looks at you askance.

“My lady, I ask that in future you do your reading before skipping ahead to the summoning. I can tell that there is perhaps one other necromancer in the area, but that is all. I can no more track him down by the scent of his aura than you could tie your shoes by sound. That is saying nothing of the fact that any necromancer who has moved beyond shades will likely be warded to conceal his aura, making it impossible to detect unless I’m looking for it already.”
Rats. Looks like there’s nothing it can do in this situation. You’d asked it to spy on your family more as a proof of its abilities than a genuine interest in their goings-on, but it would be funny to have your own little soap opera for the next few days.

“Do you have anything else to ask before you release me from the circle to watch your family, the very people who trust and love you and who you claim to trust and love in return?” it asks, the corner of its mouth quirking up.

You check your phone—it’s getting late. Rather, it’s getting early. It’s just hit four o’clock and believe it or not, the sky is starting to lighten in the east. You’ve probably got a little more time, but not much, especially if you want to clean up before hitting the hay.

>No, nothing else. (rub a hole in the circle so he can get a-spyin’, and leave for home)
>Yes, actually. I’d like you to (do something, answer a question)
>write-in

>>747946
Well, I'm wondering, do you have a slightly easier way to summon you in case I'm pressed for time?

>>747979
You didn't think it'd be possible for the cat to look any more exasperated. You were wrong.

"My lady." He answers, using a tone of voice generally reserved for young children and the mentally handicapped. "If I tried to express to you my shock at your apparently ability to summon me without understanding the barest thing about simple shades, I would still be talking when this oak crumbles into dust. Yes. Having summoned me now, we are linked. You may now summon me with only an offering, my bone, and an invocation and dismiss me with a word. The offering should be meat and libation, burned. Happy?"

You shrug and reach forward with a toe, rubbing out a part of the circle. The cat-spirit surges forward through the gap you've created, stretching out until he resembles nothing more than a blue bolt of feline lightning, and streaking toward the house, presumably to watch your family's movements.

You rub out the rest of the circle and leave the rest of the supplies where they are, taking only the skull and the libation. After all, you might need to summon or dismiss Cat again, but you'd prefer to lug as little as possible up and down that latter every time you decide to come out here. You heave up the trap door and head down the latter, towel-bag in hand.

The walk back is easier since the sun is just starting to peak over the horizon, making it ever so slightly easier to see where you're going. You slip in the back door and have a hurried rinse in the shower, just making sure the scent of dirt, blood and wine is washed off, before drying off and putting on your pajamas. It's been a long night, and you certainly deserve a rest.

You pull the curtains closed, not wanting to be woken by the sun, as it rises entirely too early in the morning with no regard whatsoever for other people's sleeping patterns. You flop down in bed, eyes already starting to droop. Is there anything, anything at all you have to do before you can drift off at last?
>try to read grimoire (will require 1d20 roll to stay awake and absorb info)
>try to call Cat to you from wherever he currently is in the house
>just pass out, deal with all this tomorrow

Rolled 12 (1d20)

>>748063
>>try to read grimoire (will require 1d20 roll to stay awake and absorb info)
I'm a natural at sleep reading. This cat is way more rude than skunkbro.

Rolled 2 (1d20)

>>748063
>>try to read grimoire (will require 1d20 roll to stay awake and absorb info)

When do we summon or become a lich?

>>748083
>>748090
Writing
>summon
Just did
>become lich
Long ways off.
Such it is my man. He might grow on you as you become more competent as a necromancer.

>>748123
I think he meant, "When do we summon a lich or become one?"

>>748172
yes

You groan, and roll off the bed. You'd like nothing more than to close your eyes and finally get some well-earned rest, to just put the madness of all this behind you and fall asleep for a good long while.
But no, Cat was right. You had no idea what you were doing before, and while it came out alright this time around, that might not always be the case. It's time to hit the books. Book. Singular. It's time to read the grimoire some more, is what you mean.

You drag it out from under the bed and crack it open, sitting at your desk and hoping the upright position will keep you awake and alert longer. You start by flipping through the whole thing, looking at each chapter to get an overview of the thing. It looks like it's divided into nine sections.
1. Simple Animal Shades
2. Simple Human Shades
3. True Human Shades
4. Lesser Physical Form, Animal
5. Greater Physical Form, Animal
6. Lesser Physical Form, Human
7. Greater Physical Form, Human
8. Controlling Multiple Summons
9. True Resurrection

Though some of the later sections look tempting, it's probably a good idea to stick to the basics for now. You open up the section on Simple Animal Shades and begin to read.

A simple shade is, first and foremost, a pair of eyes and ears. It is fast, it is invisible to those who do not practice necromancy, and it is intelligent. Many simple shades grant their masters information learned from other shades in the spirit realm. This is not always the case however, and sometimes the information is scrambled.

Beyond their role as a messenger and spy, however, simple shades can be effective poltergeists against the uninformed. Mechanisms may go haywire, small items may fall over, voices can be heard, all from a determined simple shade adequately provided with offerings to maintain its energies. Be warned that even one or two exertions may dangerously deplete a shade and cause it to return to the spirit realm prematurely, making it critical that a ready supply of offerings be prepared ahead of time.

Being ethereal, and truly a kind of artificial ghost, a simple shade will of course be invaluable in driving off other spirits such as natural ghosts from any space you desire. For the same reason, however, they are rarely any use in physical combat, and Physical Forms as discussed later are almost always more useful.

The animal form of a simple shade may sometimes offer slight advantages after it has passed on, but rarely in a very noticeable way. A wolf's shade may be particularly tireless in its hunt for information, a ram's shade may be particularly good at knocking over objects, and bird particularly swift. It is rarely worth attempting to summon multiple shades to rely on their "specialities" since they are so rarely definitive.
(1/2)

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>>748189
>>748172
Ach, my bad. Yeah, either/both are not happening any time soon. That's some endgame stuff, and becoming a lich is a distasteful process, even for necromancers.

>>748201
Huh. That's certainly interesting. Seems like everything Cat told you was on point, and there's some other stuff in there as well. Interesting. You try to read further, but you catch yourself nodding, and close the book decisively. There's dedication, and then there's risking drool stains on your precious book. You slide it into the back of your desk drawer and close it, shuffling over to your bed and hitting the pillow. You might have been out before you made contact, but you really can't be sure.
(2/2)
/////
That's the end of the quest for tonight, friends. We will return to Liz Shepherd's adventures in necromancy tomorrow night. Comments, compliments and constructive criticism all welcomed, though I may be slow to respond to them. Thanks for playing everybody, I hope it was as fun as the original. Goodnight all, and to all a good night.

>>748208
Thanks for runnin', Skelly. Glad to have you back

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>>748208

>tfw all the quests I liked just stopped for no reason
>tfw skelly's back

I am so happy right now

>>748208
Good run m8, glad to see you went through with the redux

>>748494
>>749609
>>749720
Y'all are what keep me going. Means a lot to hear people are enjoying it. Gonna be running again about 4:30 or 5 tonight if all goes well.

It's back O.O

This got my attention
Looks like an interesting quest, Skelly-sama

>>749829
What time zone are you in, skelly-man?

>>750590
Ach, sorry I didn't specify. I'm talking EST (GMT-5). This means I'll be starting in about 30 minutes.

Writing now.

You’re awake, and the shaft of sunlight beaming directly into your eyes tells you two things. First of all, it’s morning; second of all, you left the tiniest gap in the curtains last night through which the hateful light of the sun is streaming in.

You, of course, groan and roll over, trying to preserve the delicious blurry laziness of a Sunday morning in bed, but to no avail. You’re awake, and there’s nothing to be done but commit to it. Besides, your covers are starting to feel uncomfortably warm as the day starts to heat up.
So you stretch out, joints popping pleasantly, and hop out of bed. You grab a pair of shorts and a tank-top, and open your door. Immediately the smell of frying bacon wafts into your room and your stomach growls. Breakfast sounds good.

It’s only as you’re closing the door behind you that you catch sight of Cat’s skull sitting in the corner, and startle. Somehow the rituals of last night and how they stretched into the wee hours of the morning had seemed more like a half-remembered dream in the harsh light of the day. But there it was, with the bottle full of libation leaning up against it, undeniable proof that something had happened last night. If it was you summoning a ghost or just going crazy was the matter of contention at this point.

Your stomach growls again, and you decide any major decisions as to your sanity could wait until after coffee, already padding towards the kitchen. Your younger brother Andrew and your parents are already up, but apparently Olivia was still sleeping in.

“G’morning!” you say as you walk into the kitchen, ruffling the top of Andrew’s head in a way that always makes him scowl. At the moment, he appears busy with the latest PocketAbberation game, tapping away happily and not too bothered by your teasing.

“Morning, Liz!” your Dad replies, looking up from the stove where he’s making pancakes on one burner and bacon on the other “Want me to pour you a cup? Bacon’s almost ready and since you’re up early, I don’t mind sharing.”

“Ah, thanks Dad.” You answer, flashing a smile and sitting down at the table with your Mom and brother. He’s a hell of a cook, always trying that new recipe or technique, and while he’s never totally satisfied, everybody else in the family loves the chance to try his meals. He was the one who insisted the old electric stove be replaced with a gas range, at no small cost.

Your mother seems distracted, newspaper spread out on the table. As a senior editor of the Portland Anchor, she never really seems to leave her work behind. She’s currently frowning, circling a particular article with a pen.
“That Jenkins!” she mutters, more to herself than anybody else. “I told him not to call it a catastrophe!”

(1/2)

>>750823
“Catastrophe?” You ask, confused. She seems startled, but smiles warmly once she looks up, then fades into a somber tone.

“Ah yes, I guess you hadn’t heard. The Portland Public Library had a gas leak and explosion just last night. Half the building got demolished, and there’s an uproar over the safety protocols. To make things worse, the conspiracy nuts are already swarming over it, claiming there was no gas pipeline under the library of all things. Some of them even seem to think the whole thing was magic!” She snorts derisively. “Oh, that does remind me though. I have some errands to do in Portland, so if you need a ride into the city, just let me know and I can drop you off.”

Your Dad sweeps over, putting down a plate of toast and bacon and placing a mug of coffee down in front of you.
“Two sugars, no cream, just how you like it.” he says with just a touch of pride at having remembered. “If you don’t end up going into Portland, I could always use a hand here as well. I have a lot of yard work to do, but I’d appreciate it if you could head over to the plant nursery and pick some things up. Herbs for the garden and that sort of thing. The old guy who runs it is a real card. I think you’d like him”

“Ah, thanks. I’m not sure, let me think about it for a sec.” You take a sip of the coffee, savouring the sweet, dark liquid. Then, Cat pops his head up through the table and you jump, choking on the coffee and nearly falling out of your chair. You cough a few times, thumping your chest, before reassuring your parents that yes, you’re fine, just went down the wrong way is all.

On the plus side, neither of them seems to be able to see Cat, and he isn’t trying to talk to you at the moment so you don’t have to pretend to ignore him. Your mom seems to be finishing up her breakfast though, so you should probably make a decision soon…
What do you want to do with the day?
>Go with your Mom to Portland, that gas explosion sounded interesting…
>Stay here with your Dad, you don’t mind getting something from the nursery for him
>Stay here but try to avoid your Dad, focus on reading the grimoire and experimenting with what Cat can do.

>>750824
>Go with your Mom to Portland, that gas explosion sounded interesting…

>>750824
>>Go with your Mom to Portland, that gas explosion sounded interesting…

>>750832
>>750850
Writing for Portland (coincidentally the name of my new indie band)

>>750832
>>750850
“I think I’d like to go with you to Portland, Mom.” You say through a mouthful of toast and bacon. “I just got a text from one of my friends asking if I wanted to hang out with her for the day.” For some reason, you think it’s for the best if you don’t tell your Mom that you really just wanted to check out that gas explosion. Reassuring her that you’re only going to see if it was some kind of magic attack probably wouldn’t work, either.

She looks pleased at the news.
“Good. I like to have some company on the drive. I’ll be running errands until some time in the afternoon. We can meet up for lunch if you like. I know a couple of nice little cafés in the area.” You smile and nod, already looking forward to it. “I’m going to be heading out in just a little while, so finish up and get ready, okay?”

“Yup, no problem!” You gulp down the last of your coffee and put the dishes in the dishwasher, heading back to your room and meeting Olivia on her way down the stairs. She doesn’t seem to hear your greeting, and if you didn’t know better you’d think she’d pulled later hours than you had last night from the bags under her eyes.

You head into your room and pull out a satchel, putting a water bottle, your wallet, and a few other essentials in. You hesitate for a minute, but shove the grimoire and Cat’s skull in as well, figuring it can’t hurt to be prepared.

Just as you think about calling the cat-spirit somehow, he floats through the door of your room, looking pleased with himself, and sits at attention just beside your desk.
“Good morning, my lady. I must say, your family has been remarkably boring. Nothing out of the ordinary, except that your sister was up quite late talking to some boy or other on her computer. Not to worry though, she didn’t notice your nocturnal excursions.”
(1/2)

I'm going to try to post shorter, more frequent updates from now on. These are getting unmanageable

>>750915
“Boring is fine by me, and Liv going crazy over her latest crush isn’t out of the ordinary.” You reply, slinging the bag over your shoulder. “We’re going into the city today, so follow close behind me, okay?” He nods amicably, then acts as if a thought has struck him.

“It might be wise to bring an offering, should you require any...strenuous activity from me.”
You shrug. Might as well. What had he said last night? Meat and libation? That’s easy enough. You pour some of the libation from the wine bottle into a hip flash a friend got you as a joke last year, and head into the kitchen for a bit of meat. Your father is eating at the table now, so it’s not hard to sneak a little ball of raw hamburger from the fridge into a plastic baggie without him noticing.

Suddenly, you hear your mom call from the front door.
“Lizzie! Let’s head out, okay?”
****
The ride to Portland goes quickly, with the two of you chattering away as traffic moves along, and before you know it you’re just a block down from the library, Cat floating along with you. Even from this distance, you can see a police DO-NOT-CROSS line and a couple of bored-looking cops guarding it. How to deal with that…?
>Try to just breeze past them, act like you’re allowed to be there
>try to circle around, find another way to get close
>Why risk getting in trouble? It’s probably nothing. Just look at it from the line and don’t get any closer than that.
(2/2)

>>750921
>>Why risk getting in trouble? It’s probably nothing. Just look at it from the line and don’t get any closer than that.

>>750921
>>Try to just breeze past them, act like you’re allowed to be there
Last time I played a meddling kid playing detective, this worked out just fine!

>>750921
>look at it from the line and don’t get any closer than that (yet).
For now, let's hear the gossip

>>750921
Let's not risk this, and have our Cat do a quick recon since we can't physically get there.

>>750941
>>750939
>>750934
Writing for scoping things out from the line.

>>750952
Time to play it safe. You might have heard some semi-suggestive stuff from Mom, but there’s a good chance this is nothing and you’re just being paranoid. Best to take it all in and see if there’s anything to suggest a genuine paranormal event.

So you try to blend in with the small crowd of people bunched up around the police line, taking in the destruction. It’s impressive, you have to admit. The whole front end of the building looks like it was blown outward, exposing the large lobby and reading rooms on the first floor. The second floor looks mostly intact, save for a few windows blown out here and there. It looks like some emergency work was done to stabilize the building, with floor jacks and temporary supports placed around.

There’s paper everywhere, of course, a good number of books blown to smithereens and floating on the breeze. You feel a chill on your neck and see Cat looking with a muted interest at the building in front of you. You lock eyes and nod your head towards the ruined facade, and he seems to catch on quickly enough, walking quickly through the crowd and leaving a trail of shivering pedestrians in his wake. He quickly disappears into the rubble, and you push towards the front of the crowd, wondering what rumours are floating around.

You catch a snippet of conversation and do your best to seem casual as you eavesdrop on a pair of cops, who look like they’ve just been relieved. It’s hard to hear them over the sound of the city, but you catch a few snippets. From the tone of voice, it sounds like they’re disagreeing over something pretty important.
“--gas line’s a block north?”
“It’s not worth--”
“--a firefighter, and he said--”
“--would he know? Gas can--”
They get out of earshot after that, but the argument doesn’t seem to stop, only getting more intense as they walk towards their cruiser.

As you move to follow, you hear Cat calling. He’s standing at the edge of where the wall got destroyed, and once he gets your attention, looks pointedly at the cops who’ve just arrived. They’re currently occupied with some angry-looking soccer mom...leaving the line unguarded. There’s no telling how long it’ll take, but you might be able to slip inside without them noticing you if you move quickly.

Then again, there are a good number of people in the crowd, and one of them might say something…
>try to sneak into the building
>follow the other cops to hear the rest of their conversation
>hang back, talk to people in the crowd about what they’ve heard.

>>750993
>>follow the other cops to hear the rest of their conversation

>>750993
Let's hang back a bit, we might hear something of importance.

>>750993
>>try to sneak into the building
What could possibly go wrong?

If no tiebreaker in the next 5 min, I'll roll the dice.

Rolled 2 (1d3)

1 for following cops
2 for hanging back
3 for sneaking in

You decide against it and shake your head minutely, signaling to Cat that you’ll wait here for the time being. He gives as much of a shrug as a cat could be said to give and disappears, you assume to investigate the building further.

The cops quickly calm down the outraged mom and you breathe a sigh of relief; there’s no way you would have been able to make it into the building and hide in such a short period of time. While Cat is reconnoitering on the inside, you might as well see what people on the outside have to say.

You walk up to a 20-something year old woman with bright pink hair, scribbling furiously in a spiral-bound notebook and pull out your phone. If you’re looking for rumours and unlikely stories, she’s the one to ask.
“Hello, do you mind if I ask you a few questions about what happened here at the library?” you ask, holding up the phone like a mic as if recording her. “I’m a journalist for the student paper taking statements.”

The woman looks inordinately pleased.
“Oh of course! I’d love to help out an independent paper looking for the truth, unlike most media.” Jackpot.

“Thank you so much! So, first off, were you present when the accident occurred?” The woman starts to nod, then shakes her head.
“Well, I was present, I can tell you that much,” she points to a used bookstore a few buildings down and across the street. “I was just coming out of there when it exploded...but no way in hell was it an accident. I’ve looked up videos of gas explosions, and there’s no way it was anything like that. I saw it, and I’m telling you the flames were green. They just exploded out of nowhere, too, no smell of gas or anything.”
Huh. That’s something to note for sure. Green flames…

“The cops says it was copper from the pipes and wiring that turned it green, but I don’t fuckin’ buy it, you know?” You nod, wanting to at least seem sympathetic.

“That is very strange. Do you have any idea if anybody was injured?” The woman shakes her head vigorously, pink hair flipping around her face.

“That’s the thing! Nobody was in the building! Even the librarian and janitors had stepped out, all for different reasons, all at the exact same time!” She peers around, as if looking for someone snooping around, and leans in closer, voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. “I think it was a planned demolition, but they didn’t want anyone looking too deeply into it so they avoided causing casualties. See, my theory is that the compound they use for thought manipulation burns a greenish hue because of--”
(1/2)

>>751110
After another 15 minutes of theories even you aren’t prepared to stomach, you thank her for her statement and manage to get away. Just as you do so, Cat pops out of the building and walks up to you, wearing his usual smirk.

“There are, without a doubt, magical energies involved in the place.” he begins, immediately confirming your suspicions. After all, green fire is just too out of the ordinary to-- “But the explosion was mundane.” Your stomach drops. So you just wasted all that time, and it was nothing at all?

“However.” Cat continues, his grin widening “There is a man of definite magical power rummaging around on the second story as we speak, and acting more than a little nervous.” You hardly know what to think—could the explosion have been a coincidence after all?

“How did he get in, if the place has been guarded?” you demand. Cat cocks his head to the side

“It’s possible he used a magical glamour, or bribed the single guard at the back entrance, or used some other means I’m unaware of. I’m not sure.”

“Back entrance?”

“Oh yes, it’s just down the alleyway and to the left. Just one tired guard, hasn’t even been relieved yet, poor thing.”
That’s certainly useful info…
>head in the back entrance and confront the man on the second floor
>head in the back entrance and stay stealthy, try to figure out what he’s doing and why
>wait for him to leave and try to follow him
(2/2)

>>751115
Let's go Solid Snake and silently enter the back entrance.

>>751115
>>head in the back entrance and stay stealthy, try to figure out what he’s doing and why

>>751125
>>751130
Writing for sneaking in.

>>751168
Oh, the quest is on? Nice

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>>751197
I posted in /qtg/ and the /qst/ Discord. If someplace else would work better for you/others, let me know.

>>751168
Pic is general layout. You're the X, guard is the star, to the left is the street, and down is back towards the front of the library. Pardon the shittiness.
You decide that this is it. You have to figure out what that guy’s up to, and as good as Cat may be, it’s no substitute for seeing something yourself. You slip away from the crowd and down the alley Cat indicated. It’s pretty much like any alley you might encounter, occasional piles of trash and more than its fair share of cigarette butts.

On the far end, you peak your head around the corner and see a guard leaning up against the wall. He looks tired for sure, eyelids drooping, and every now and then his head slowly sinks down before snapping back awake. You yank your head back behind the wall when he starts to look around the alley, and your heart skips a beat when you hear his radio squawk. Have you been spotted?

“Hey, Barry! Allen was supposed to get here an hour ago, so where the hell is he? I don’t mind the overtime, but I’m dead on my feet here.” The man on the other side of the radio, Barry you suppose, answers something, but you can’t decipher it through the static. Whatever it is, the cop doesn’t like it. He turns the radio off and leans back up against the wall, muttering angrily to himself.

“Fuckin’ bastards, telling me to suck it up when I’ve got a wife at home 8 months pregnant and fit to pop any minute...Christ, I need to find a new line of work.”

Cat sits patiently next to you, grooming his glowing fur lazily. You’ve got to get inside the building, but that’s a tall order with the cop standing about two feet away from the door.
How the hell are you gonna deal with him?
>create some sort of distraction where the alley meets the street and hide, wait for him to run past (suggest the distraction)
>wait for him to nod off and try to get past him
>write-in

>>751229
Let's see of we can get him to nod off, if that doesn't work, we can make him chase Cat.

>>751229
>/qst/ has a discord? How do you join?

>>751229
Oh, no. I am a newcomer, i was out of the loop, that's all


Maybe we can ask our catter to use his poltergeist powers to make a distraction.
We have the offering after all

>>751278
Check the quest thread general, there's a link in the OP
>>751279
>>751271
Writing for waiting, then using Cat

>>751278
dang I greenified it.

>>751282
Well, it looks like he’s already starting to fall asleep, and if that exchange on the radio was anything to go by, he’s not being relieved any time soon either. In that case, why not just wait? Give it a couple of minutes and he might be sleepy enough to miss you going in.

So you wait. And wait. And wait. Your watch says it’s been only a few minutes, but it feels like ages, and you start to worry that the man upstairs might have already taken off by some other exit. So when the guard looks like he’s out, you make your move. Moving as quietly as you can, you turn the corner and tiptoe towards the door.

You’re moving quietly enough at first, keeping your eyes on the guard...which is why you don’t see the bottle. A brown glass bottle with the label torn off, and you accidentally send it spinning across the alleyway, clattering as it rolls along the uneven, patched asphalt.

With barely a second to spare, you dive behind a dumpster on the same side of the alleyway as the guard, hearing him snort awake and look around. You hear him take one step...then two, until it seems inevitable that he’ll find your hiding spot. You frantically gesture to Cat, who cocks his head—and disappears. You barely have time to curse him, before you hear a huge crash coming from the other end of the alley.

The cop curses and runs off towards it, and Cat reappears in front of you, looking much more flickery and far more transparent than before, but obviously happy with himself. Taking the opportunity, you roll out from behind the dumpster and squeeze into the door. It looks like it used to be a janitor’s entrance and the electronic lock fried when the building went up.

You’re inside now, on a small landing with one flight of stairs going down towards the destroyed first floor, another going up towards the darkened, mostly-intact second floor, and an elevator directly in front of you.

Cautiously you head upstairs. You whisper for Cat to tell you if he sees anything, and he nods, his glow not looking quite so bad now that he’s out of the sunlight. You peek your head up out of the stairwell and look around.

This floor isn’t as aesthetically pleasing as the one below. It’s far more utilitarian, with shelf after shelf of books lined up, each labeled with a series of numbers indicating the subjects they contain. You can hear frantic speech coming from one end of the large room, farthest from the stairs.
>approach cautiously, don’t be seen (will require a roll after the decision)
>find a good place to hide near the stairs. If he’s leaving, he’ll have to go by here.
>cause another distraction, and make him come to you

>>751330
Let's hide, we can't mettle with Lady Luck too often.

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Let's hide

Drawing with a mouse is death, death i say!

>>751330
>>find a good place to hide near the stairs. If he’s leaving, he’ll have to go by here.

>>751355
>>751340
>>751364
Writing for hiding.
My first fanart! How I will treasure it!

>>751371
Forget trying to sneak up on him, that nearly got you caught last time, and you don’t think Cat has another poltergeist-ing in him unless you’re willing to let him get de-summoned. No, the smart move is to wait here. You know he’s going to pass by, and then you’ll be able to get a closer look at him and follow behind to see what he’s up to.

So, fumbling around somewhat in the room lit only by the meagre light coming in from the shattered windows that have yet to be boarded up, you find a hiding spot. Where one bookshelf tipped against another there’s a dark corner with a pile of literature providing perfect cover should anyone go looking. It even lets you look around without too much chance of being spotted, and a great view of the stairs.

So you go back to waiting. It’s hardly exciting, but at least it’s safe.

You can hear the voice cut off shortly after entering, and hear a little more rummaging. A few times, you can see the man’s shadowy figure on the far side of the room. He doesn’t look too muscular, but he doesn’t look like a beanpole either. He seems to be wearing some kind of duster or trenchcoat. It’s hard to make out, but it looks like he’s moving through one row of shelves after another, making an painstakingly thorough search of the entire room.

Your pulse speeds up as a thought strikes you. What if he doesn’t find what he’s looking for, and decides to look on this side of the room? Your hiding place is a good one, but it certainly wouldn’t stand up to such close scrutiny. Your fears are misplaced, however.

After another few minutes, another few rows, his footsteps stop. You can’t see him as he’s blocked from view by the edge of another shelf, but you can hear the telltale sound of a book sliding off the shelf and being cracked open. There’s an almost-silent rifling of pages, and then a muffled sound, something close to a laugh. You can hear a ripping page, and then what sounds like the book falling to the floor.

Without warning, he starts speaking again. It’s louder than before, but you still can’t make it out. Somehow, you get the feeling that you wouldn’t be able to understand it even if you were standing right next to him. A greenish glow starts to perfuse that side of the library, casting deeper shadows between the rows, growing with each second that he continues to speak.
What should you do?
>stay hidden, it’s not worth risking it just to get a better look
>sneak closer, you have to see what he’s doing or it’s not worth it (will require a roll)
>have Cat create another distraction, stop whatever it is he’s doing and get a chance to reposition
>write-in

>>751417
Hide, hide and wait until the last possible second to run out if spotted/caught, risk Cat if needed.

>>751417
Ask Cat if there is another shade around, we have no reason to think this man is completely alone
Then sneak closer

>>751417
>sneak closer, you have to see what he’s doing or it’s not worth it (will require a roll)
Something about curiosity and a cat.

>>751451
>>751444
Roll 1d20 for sneakiness. Best of three.

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2MB, 250x250px

>>751451
Curiosity revived the cat

Rolled 6 (1d20)

>>751464
*I'M NUCLEAR PLAYS IN THE BACKGROUND*

>>751479
If nothing else in the next 5 minutes, I'll have to go with this.

Rolled 1 (1d20)

>>751464
https://youtu.be/WdJg6Duzzf4

Rolled 5 (1d20)

>>751464
d

>>751479
>>751500
>>751509
O.O......................................F for respects...................................

>>751509
>>751500
>>751479
Oh jeeze guys.

>>751514
I see the video was fitting in every aspect

>>751468
Quite the opposite, evidently

Nah, I mean he is a full grown man who probably blew up a public library with people inside to rummage the ruins in search of something.
While we are just a teenage girl that is way over her head and tresspassing in a place she shouldn't be.
Do you really think an adult would take advantage of us in this situation and force us to do degrading, traumatizing, and horrible stuff because he holds all the power in this situation?
Don't think so.

>>751580
Copy-and-paste decided not to work. Here's the real update.

You nod firmly. You came up here to see what he was doing, so what’s the point of trying to stay hidden and missing whatever it is that’s going on? It’s clearly magical, so it would be a waste not to sneak around the edge of the room to get a better look. Besides, with the green glow so bright, the shadows are even darker and easier to hide in, right? Right.

“There aren’t any shades around, are there?” you ask Cat, figuring it’s at least worth covering your bases when it comes to this sort of thing.

“Not at all.” He answers in a normal tone of voice, making you jump for a moment before remembering that only you’ll be able to hear it. “And besides, you’d be able to see them if they were around, unless they were trying very hard to avoid being spotted. Necromancers have an eye for the dead, and all that.” Good to know.

You slowly creep over the pile of books, managing to get to the other side without dislodging any or making a noise. So good so far.
You move closer and closer to the source of the light, creeping between the shelves, until you’re almost next to the man just as his chanting cuts off abruptly and the light doubles in intensity.

Unfortunately, you make the mistake of looking directly into the glow at the last minute, and your eyes aren’t adjusted to such brightness. Momentarily blinded, you stumble over a book and fall to the floor, a loud THUMP echoing through the library. The man spins around and you catch a split-second glimpse of his shocked face, crisscrossed with heavy scars, before scrambling to your feet and trying to run for it.

However, the bright spots burned into your retinas haven’t quite faded yet, and you end up turning the corner a little sooner than you should have, your foot smashing through a weakened section of floor. You can’t help but gasp as your bare leg scrapes against splintered wood, leaving you trapped with one leg sunk up to the knee on the lower floor.

“Cat!” you shout and, to his credit, the usually-indolent spirit does his duty. With a yowl that many a living tomcat would have envied, he dives for the man—and evaporates into a cloud of blueish motes of light six inches from his face. The man blinks.

“What was that? Some kind of familiar?” his voice is surprisingly...friendly. Neither the gravelly voice of a thug nor the faux-smoothness of a schemer, but of course that doesn’t mean much. “Good thing I had my wards up, I suppose. Who are you, then? I doubt you’re working for the Unseelie if you’re this inept.” You quirk your head at the unfamiliar word, but he stands waiting for your response.

How do you answer?
>don’t say anything, focus on getting your leg out of the hole and escaping
>Tell the truth (I don’t know anything, I just learned about magic yesterday.)
>Tell a lie (I am with the Unseelie and if you fuck with me you’ll regret it)
>Write-in

>>751584
>>don’t say anything, focus on getting your leg out of the hole and escaping
fuck you old man

>>751584
Tell the truth

>>751589
>>751598
1 for silence
2 for truth.
If silence, please roll 1d20 for escape success. Best of three.

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>751617
Well done me forgetting to actually roll the dice.

Rolled 10 (1d20)

>>751618
Well, time to escape i guess

>>751624
Waited for more rolls, but if they're not forthcoming, I'll write.

Rolled 9 (1d20)

>>751617

>>751661
This night won't be known as the night of the high rolls

Last post of the evening gents, getting tired. Not going to be able to run tomorrow night as I've got a final to study for, but thursday should be good to go.
>>751661
Why the hell should you tell this guy anything? Just keep your mouth shut and get to escaping. You ignore his questions and try to yank your leg out, getting most of it free up to the ankle but giving yourself a good number of scratches and cuts in the process. Just as you’re getting the rest of your foot out, the man lays a hand on your shoulder, holding you firmly in place. He looks almost confused.

“Did you think you could just run away?” he sounds about as confused as he looks, perhaps slightly amused. You consider punching him in the gut and booking it, but his grip is like iron and you’ve never been the strongest fighter by a long shot. Not to mention, this guy is more than a little scary up close.

“Well, I, um...” you stammer, not quite sure how to approach the subject. “You’re right, I’m not with anybody. I don’t even know what that word means. I just found out about, uh, all of this yesterday. I heard rumours about the explosion being unnatural and then my, um, familiar I guess? He told me you were up here and I wanted to see what was going on, was all.” The man looks thoughtful, but his grip doesn’t loosen, even for a second.

On the wall behind him, you can see the source of the glow; a hugely intricate group of symbols. It’s enclosed in a circle like the one you used last night, but that’s where the similarities end. None of it looks at all familiar to what you’ve seen in the grimoire, and it looks to be made out of light rather than chalk.

“Well, it seems like you’re telling the truth, little warlock girl.” he says, chewing on the side of his cheek and looking up towards the ceiling. “So if it was up to me I’d probably let you go with a warning and a promise. That said, the pressure has been on to recruit recently, and they say a war’s coming. That means I’m gonna have to take you to the Court.” You’re not sure what it is, but the way he says it makes you suspect it’s spelled with a capital-C.

Behind him, the symbols start to swirl together, coalescing into a single blob of light before winking out entirely, leaving only a gaping black shadow surrounded by the thinnest possible ring of remaining glow. His hand still firmly grasping your shoulder, he steers you toward the circle of darkness, following close behind. You step through...and everything goes black.

See you all Thursday night! I'll probably make a new thread, and post in both the /qst/ discord and the /qtg/ thread once it's up.
Again, comments and criticisms are welcome, and I hope you had a good time.
See you soon!

>>751696
Oh shit, we are gettin' drafted for magic 'nam
Thank you for running, Skelly

>>751696
>Not kicking him in the gonads with your good leg.
Fffffeh.

Actually, while the thread's still up...
Do you guys have a preference for longer or shorter posts? I tend to go a little long, but I could change that if there's desire for it.
>>751720
[it ain't me intensifies]
>>751834
If only you'd suggested it (and rolled nat20) we might have escaped

>>751947
Shorter would be nice but feel free to go long on the important shit.

>>752073
This anon speaks for the trees

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Also, i forgot to tell you this before, but your "freestyle" system for necromancy is really good.
Just, all of the cool possible concepts that it allows

>Unassuming pianist who can summon the shade of an elephant with an ivory piano key

>High class rich woman with a menagerie of shades due to her fur coat and accessories collection

>Musical duo of twin brothers, one can summon a horse shade with the hair strings on his Cello bow, and the other a water buffalo with the gut string in his violin

>Surfer that has a love/hate relationship with the shark he summons because they fought to the death when the animal tried to eat him, the focus being a shark tooth necklace

>Museum curator that is actually a high level necromancer that defends the place from other necromancers, being able to raise whole exhibitions for that task

And that's not even getting into if fossils are close enough to be animal remains to be used properly.
I might steal your system once you've revealed enough of it, so watch out

>>752523
>he figured out my spooky museum idea
DAMMIT
Oh well, I've still got a few tricks left. As you said, there are a lot of opportunities and I plan to take advantage of all of them. 7
If you're really curious I don't mind sharing some of the rules in private, but it would definitely spoil some plot points so I don't know if you'd be interested.

>>752532
Just from the things i have laying around my house i could summon
>Various sheep
>Various cows
>Two crabs
>A dog
>A pig
>A few chickens
>Tons of shellfish
>A llama (Or maybe a guanaco, idk)
>Myself (Some old teeth)
>Unknown bird
>Probably a capibara if i still have that preserve around
Heck, my aunt could give me perfectly preserved insect corpses if i asked
The amount of stuff we carry around that could be considered animal remains is astounding, your necromancers are spoiled for choice.

And, thank you for the offer, but i don't want to spoil myself just yet.

We should summon a crab.

>>752663
What advantage would that bring us?
Maybe something that flies, but underwater espionage is not something we have a dire need for
Unless you want us to spy handsome guys in their bathtubs

>>752663
>>752727
For the record, any shade, by virtue of being a creature of the aether are therefore not affected by things like oxygen availability, water pressure, or temperature.
Cat has already demonstrated his ability to fly when he exited the treehouse and by his casual floating, though I admit these are less than perfect examples.

>>752774
Would a bird one be able to fly better because it is based on an animal that flew when he lived?

Also, why do we keep calling Cat Cat? Don't we remember his name when he was alive?

>>752832
That was probably his name. He was a stray neighborhood tomcat, after all.

>>752832
Please see the last paragraph of
>>748201

>>752846
Oh, right. I forgot

We might as well summon something radical then I say. Break off a rib of a blue whale, a raptors toe from a museum.

>>752976
If we can infiltrate in a well stocked museum we can bring back a mammoth, or a giant squid.
If fossils are okay we can bring back a Leviathan Mellvilei

>>752992
Oh man I can't wait for you guys to try this. This quest is going places

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>>753013
Today's selection consists of:

15 meters of FUCK YOU carnivorous whale that stopped existing because there weren't enough whales to keep killing. You think the jap whalers are bad? HA!

Slighty bigger than that great white shark whose only plausible competition was said FUCK YOU whale in their struggle to keep killing whales. It sucks being a whale

Squid with legs for days, averaging at a respectable 0.8 Krakens of bigness

Big ass sea lizard that was to dinosaus as Cuthulhu is to us

Orca, for when subtlety is needed

We need the Kraken to be our shade.

>>753058
>.8 krakens of bigness
Laughed at an inappropriate volume in lecture
I will say that while shades are awesome and useful, they're very limited in their abilities to affect the natural world, and that summons with more physicality definitely take some work.
It is absolutely doable though.

>>753077
Is there a way to make them visible to normies?
Because imagine trying to mug this unassuming teenage girl, only for a kraken made of shade and blue (Not blue anything, just blue) to appear in front of you.

None the less, this is more for when we can do Greater physical forms

5. Greater Physical Form, Animal
Kraken
9. True Resurrection
Cthulhu

>>753199
How can you resurrect that which is not dead?
Especially when even death can die

>>753262
Have a piece of The Great Dreamer
Clone it.

>>753320
Can we even make a shade from something that is not dead? Like, if we stole a lock of hair from our sister, could we make a shade based on her?

>>753404
I doubt it. Given that we're using the object as a tether to their spirit in the dead place.

>>753436
But weren't our shades pale imitations of what was alive, instead of the actual soul being brough back i mean.

>>747132
>Their true souls can never be recovered, but the illusion of such is possible for a true master, or even a dedicated novice…

>>753058
Shame squids don't have bones, teeth are the only hard thing in their body.

>>753468
The bigger the rostrum...

>>753468
Eh, dead giant squids are trapped by fishing ships from time to time. We need their remains, bone or no bone is not a problem.
Barring that we can visit a big marine biology institute. I am sure they have giant squid beaks they extract from dead sperm whales.
Also, they have small claw-like structures on their "arm" tentacles they use to grab their prey

>>753458
It may be something along the lines of a projection of their soul, as he was talking about the shades learning from other shades in the dead things place.

Having giant squid shades would scare the shit out of other necromancers, which would cool. Just imagine seeing a gaint ghost squid.

>>753543
So should we become a marine themed necromancer?


With a cat?

What should we name ourselves if that was the case?

>>753548
...catfish?

>>753562
>every time we defeat someone, they get an 18 year old girl standing over them, monstrous shades and other summons around them
>she stares deep in their eyes and says
>you just got catfished

I don't know if we will go this route, but eh, it had to be done

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>>753853
No idea what's that empty space on the left

>>753562
Davy Jones?
Charon?

I like this a lot. We call ourselves The Siren, we use our shades to bring ships down and drown our enemies. >>753871

Bampu
Hope you did well in your final, Skelly

>>753548
>>753562
'Catfish Gravy' could be our indie band name.

>>754682
OR
We could take on the mantle of The Dread Pirate Roberts

>>755050
Anon, remember what happened the last time we invoked the powers of pirates from campy movies
>>751500

>>755087
We found a way to learn more, from people outside of books?

>>755183
And got drafted into a magic war against the fae

>>755199
...
Semantics

Awe snap, modern necromancer is back
HYYYPPEEEE! Time to get caught up

>>753849
Someone had to ask: Zombie T-Rex?

>>756096
>Hah! You just got catfish'd!
Catfish'd?
>Eh, Siren'd? Pirated? I am... Working on it.
No, no. That's okay. But since you are going for a sea theme, what's with the cat?
>He was my first shade. Give me a break
Oh, okay. But, why the Tyrannosaur?
>...It's like you never had a childhood

Heads up to all! I'll be running tonight at about 5pm EST, a little more than five hours from now, assuming all goes well. See you then!

>>756096
Definitely possible but pretty far off. I don't want to encourage meta-knowledge, but I will say that physical forms are a lot harder than shades, if more useful.

>>756199
You know what catfishing is, right?

>>757009
Is it like when you show up to a date where you both met throught online means and then you find out your date might have been tampering with their photographs? Juuuust a little bit. Enough to trick you into thinking they were hot when they werent?

>>757038
It's more faking an entire persona online.

posting long one now to hold you over until I get home

You’ve been unconscious before. This isn’t like that. It’s deeper, more all-consuming. You’re certain; this is what death feels like. Vague sensations of thought, of emotion, but no light or sound or movement. Your edges start to blur, bleeding out into the void. Given time, you’re sure you would cease to exist.

Eventually, it starts to brighten and the feeling of dissipation reverses, all your scattered atoms brought back together in perfect order until, all at once, you’re awake. The heavily-scarred man in the long raincoat is leaning over you, looking sympathetic but not terribly concerned. You glance up and see that you’re in an alley and a light rain has begun to drizzle down, cool droplets prickling your face.

“You alright? First time through a gate is never fun.” Behind him, you see the same green light as before fading into nothing and taking that dark void with it. You drag yourself to your feet, head swimming, and open your mouth to answer, but bile rushes up your throat and you heave. A few specks of half-digested something-or-other splatter on the scarred man’s shoes, and you can’t claim that doesn’t make you feel better. He sighs patiently and hands you a stained handkerchief to wipe your mouth with.

You’d like to do nothing more than sit down, but the man seems to be in something of a hurry. Barely giving you the time to get your bearings, he grabs your hand and drags you behind him as he exits the alley. He scans the street and turns right, keeping up a brisk walk. As you go along, you wonder why he’s brought you here, how he’s brought you here. It’s down near the wharfs, the smell of marine diesel and salt spray strong on the breeze.

He’s acting nervous, checking over his shoulder every block like a man hunted. Finally he slows his pace and stops in front of a large derelict warehouse. It looks to be made of corrugated steel, with half the walls already rotted and rusted away, revealing the half-flooded, rubble-filled interior.

“Home at last.” He inhales deeply through his nose, reaching for the padlocked door. Somehow, it swings open easily and he steps through into the abandoned warehouse…that suddenly looks a lot less abandoned.

Where piles of trash and debris had been, marble columns with threads of gold snaking through them now stand tall, supporting the edges of a huge domed ceiling. More than anything, it reminds you of the Pantheon in Rome, complete with its own oculus, golden twilight streaming in through the opening. The whole place looks to be made of that same marble, built in the style of the Classics.

“Welcome to the Seelie Court, young one.” The scarred man chuckles at the shocked look of disbelief on your face. “I would have brought us closer, but the wards around this place are beyond belief. The Seelie Queen is a cautious one.” He peers towards the far side of the round room, where an ethereal figure sits on a high wooden chair perched upon a dais, her head bent in conversation.

“She also appears to be busy.” He saunters over to a low couch and sinks down onto the purple cushion, patting the seat beside him. “And I imagine you have an awful lot to ask.”

>sit down, try to figure out what the hell’s going on (suggest questions)
>screw this, you’re out. Run for the door and get away. (will require a roll for agility and luck)
>don’t sit down, ignore that asshole and observe the room by yourself (will require a roll for perception)

>>757059
Where i live, the equivalent of that term usually has a very close relationship with the words:
>"You look nothing like in your pictures!"

>>757084
Don't sit down but still ask "Why did you kidnap me?"

Fuck the poleecee

>>757084
>>screw this, you’re out. Run for the door and get away. (will require a roll for agility and luck)

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>757118
>>757120
Rolling.
1 for stick around and attitude
2 for book it

You ignore the man’s offer to sit down. You’re fuming. Kidnapped, dragged through some magic portal, and pulled into some magic court?!

“Why did you kidnap me?” You’re well past yelling at this point, settling for a glowering expression and a tone of utter contempt. The man shakes his head slowly, rubbing one hand over his stubble with an exhausted expression.

“Let me break it down for you. I was in a hurry to get out of that library, you didn’t seem too eager to come along, and if word got out that I’d let an unaligned magic user loose when I had a chance to bring her before the court, I’d have been toast. Plus...I didn’t exactly find everything I was looking for at the library, so you’re a handy bonus to help keep me out of hot water, okay?”

“So I’m just a fortunate coincidence, then, hmm? And did nobody think to ask me whether or not I wanted to come along, or whether I wanted to join your little court?” The man rolls his eyes.

“You don’t have to take it so personal. Besides, no matter how inexperienced you might be, you’d have been picked up by one of the courts eventually. Everybody’s aligned one way or another, eventually. Be thankful it was the Seelie that found you first, or you’d be in a lot more trouble than you are now.”

>What’s this Seelie you keep talking about?
>What’s your name?
>What is this place? Where

>>757191
>>What is this place? Where

>>757191
>>What’s this Seelie you keep talking about?

>>757191
>>What’s this Seelie you keep talking about?

>>757217
>>757222
Writing.
Nice trips

“What the hell is this Seelie you keep talking about, and why does it matter?” You demand, crossing your arms. You feel like you’ve been shoved into some bad fantasy novel that makes up every third word. The man looks at you, surprised.

“You really weren’t kidding when you said you didn’t know anything, kid. Whoever your teacher is, make sure to give him a whack upside the head for not explaining all of this to you. In a nutshell, there are two main factions in our line of work. There’s the Seelie, who are more or less benevolent towards humans. They’re the Summer Court, the Golden Ones, all that jazz. That’s who I work for, and who you’re going to work for. Then, there’s the Unseelie. They are...decidedly less benevolent. They’re the Winter Court, and while they’ve got a few humans on their side, it’s primarily monsters and the true undead.”

True undead? You almost ask about it, but hold your tongue at the last minute, and luckily too. The scarred man seems to notice something near the throne, if it could be called that, and stands up quickly. He brushes something off your shoulder, pushes your hair back from your face, and seems to shrug to himself, before leading you towards the woman he pointed out as the Queen earlier. As you walk he murmurs a few words into your ear.

“Now remember, they may work with humans, but they are not human. Answer all questions as simple as possible, and don’t accept any gifts or food. To them it’s just a laugh, but Rip Van Winkle’s a horror story if you’re the one living it.”

Before you know it you’ve crossed the rotunda and are standing directly in front of the ethereal figure you saw before. She’s beautiful in a strange, alien way, with a finely-proportioned face and elegant fingers. Her slim figure is contained by an odd gauzy garment something like a tunic, and though her voice sounds vague and wandering, her eyes follow your every movement like a hawk.
She, and the assorted figures standing around her that you can only assume are members of the Court, seem to be waiting for you to make your first move.
>Curtsy and introduce yourself by name.
>Curtsy, and wait for her to speak first
>do nothing, wait for her

>>757244
>>do nothing, wait for her

>>757244
>>Curtsy and introduce yourself by name.

>>757244
Cross our arms and wait for them to put in their piece.

>>757244
>>do nothing, wait for her

>>757250
>>757247
>>757255
Writing

Also, i find it interesting our Magefriend thought our shade was a familliar instead. Just how much prejudice will we suffer as a necromancer?

Remember, they aren’t human. The scarred man’s words from just a few moments ago run through your head. It’s not a good idea to try to apply whatever etiquette you’ve learned, since chances are pretty good you’d end up offending somebody. Best to let them make the first move, and take their lead from there. So you wait. And wait. And wait.

It feels like an eternity before the Queen leans forward, her already piercing gaze somehow even more intense than before.

“A war is coming.” Her voice is surprisingly soft, with a fine, almost spindly quality to it, and you find yourself leaning forward, straining to hear it. “There have been many wars, but we must obey the forms, and so we must find soldiers. Will you join the Seelie Court?”

Your mouth is suddenly parched, and you try to make a sound but nothing comes out. Do you have a choice? The way the man put it earlier, this is less of an offer and more of an order…

“Do not be mistaken, child, I do not ask for slavery. There are rewards for your service. Mentors, access to tomes that Man has lost, perhaps more if you act well in our interests.” Now that’s promising. Your bank balance isn’t exactly overflowing, and you can always use more information.

“Then again...perhaps your talents would be better suited to my husband’s service in the Far Court.” A murmur goes around the room, and you can practically hear the scarred man freeze behind you. Then, some strange approximation of a smile stretches across the Queen’s face, and the room relaxes.

“I jest, of course. You are a welcome member of the Seelie.” The next words have an unexplainable echo to them, and her lips do not move. “Though your kind usually finds a warmer home with him, young raiser-of-the-dead.”

>Accept the offer
>Decline the offer
>Beg for time to make a decision
>write-in

>>757307
I see this individual can see past the surface, and isn't disgruntled by necromancy
>sure, what could possibly go wrong?

>>757307
If this woman (?) can give us some fossils to fuck around, then i am all for it.

Sure, let's join. What could possibly go wrong?

>>757307
>>Accept the offer
Fuck it, those are some decent pros to joining i guess.

Worst comes to worst, we can defect or just stay out of it

>>757307
We've been outed, first let's ask what benefits we'll get by joining her Court, and the pros of the Far Court. Then ask for more time to determine our choice.

>>757331
>>757328
>>757321
>Breaking deals with the fae
Careful anon, I don't want to have to make another character already
Writing.

>>757328
Wait, this one >>757339 is right.
First, let's ask her what she means by that

>>757339
seconding

>>757352
Oh well, nevermind.

Now i am curious about the Spring and Autumn courts. What's with them?

>>757352
>>757358
>>757339
Aw jeeze guys.
Rewriting.

>>757352
>>757339
>>757363
I don't think we really have a choice here
>sounded more like a command than an offer

You’re a little put-off by that last comment, but nobody else seems to have thought anything of it.

You think for a long few moments. Resources, security, and the possibility of reward for doing whatever it is they want you to? Sounds like a pretty good deal, you have to admit. That said, what’s the deal with this Far Court she mentioned? That must be the Unseelie, right? From what the scarred man said, it didn’t seem like a great place, so why is she suggesting you’d do better there?

“What is the Far Court, um, your Highness?” You grope for the correct manner of address and end somewhat awkwardly, though no one seems to find it funny. The Queen pauses before answering.

“It is the Court of my adversary and Husband, and the home of the Unseelie. I only mention this because of your particular abilities.” The man steps forward and places a hand on your shoulder.

“Queen Titania, she is only a warlock, of which you have many in your court! Far from light, perhaps, but not of darkness. And I fear she would do poorly in Oberon’s court, with he-”

“Do you dare to think you speak for her?” the Queen’s words are gentle, almost joking in tone, but you can see the scarred man’s face go pale. “Allow her to make her own judgements, lest your own be taken from you.” He nods shakingly and steps back, apparently cowed. The Queen turns back to you.

“He offers prizes other than those which I bestow, but his gifts are earned just as surely as mine. I would not wish to speak for him, as no doubt I would be made dishonest by my heart. If you truly wish to consider joining his service, I may arrange for an audience. Do you desire this?”
The members of the court murmur around you, and you get the gist of it; offering a potential soldier to your enemy is a strange move. That said, none of them seem willing to speak against the Queen...

>Yes
>No
>write-in

>>757421
Well, since at least offered us a chance to speak, we'll take the chance to meet with Him. Then afterwards we can fully make our choice.

>>757421
Request more info
"I still don't really understand what is going on, what is this war over and why is your husband the leader of the opposing faction?"

>>757421
>No

>>757421

>Ask if there are other courts besides Seelie Unseelie.

>>757434
This seems good to

>>757434
>>757458
Writing for asking for more info.

I don't know what is going on. Or even what are the far reaching consequences of my choice. I- I accept you offer. I'd like an audience with the King of the Winter Court

Guys, i am scared

>>757421
>"why would you offer me to your adversary?"
I'd rather not be struck down for falling for some sort of ruse

You shake your head, confused. This is all coming too fast, and so little of it makes sense…

“Your Highness, I just don’t understand. I’m new to all of this, and everything’s happening so fast...I was just picked up, pulled through a portal and into your Court, and I just learned the difference between Seelie and Unseelie about ten minutes ago! Are those even the only courts? What is the war over? Why are you married to the leader of the opposing faction?” The Queen nods in a way that seems vaguely sympathetic.

“I’m sorry young one. Sometimes those of us accustomed to this world forget how strange it must be to be thrust into it. Allow me to explain as best I can. Long ago, before Man knew of fire, Oberon and I were married. We were happy, for a time. Then...” she seems to trail off for a moment before continuing “My beloved husband and I could no longer be as we had been. We each seek to o’erthrow the other, as the forces of the world demand. We are at war as we are opposites. I am the light, and he is the dark, but ever husband and wife, no matter our other roles. As to your other question...there may be other courts scattered through the world, but they are below notice, and all have sworn fealty to myself or my husband at one time or another.”

You get the feeling that she didn’t really answer your questions as fully as she could have, but you’re also starting to understand that half-truths and incomplete answers are the way of the fae.

“So, young one, does this aid you in your decision? Or would you still benefit from a visit to my husband’s domain? I have not been in quite some time, but I understand it is less pleasant than mine.”

>>757534
Let's go with the Seelie court.
Oberon tends to be quite a douche in most folklore.

>>757534
Alright well, join up i guess.

Sorry for the delay, had to get some milk.
If no other responses in 5 min, writing for accepting the Seelie Court.

>>757534
I still think visiting Oberon seems like a good deal, we need to see both sides of this coin.

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>>757534
Requesting audience

Also, trying this time without a reference. Except for the orca. Is this style okay or should i try another one?

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>757592
>>757597
>>757583
>>757555
Two for joining, two for an audience
Rolling dice.
1- join Seelie
2- request audience with Oberon
Also that orca shit is great anon, keep up the awesome work! I'm saving it all

>>757612
Writing for joining Seelie unless there are last minute votes or changes of heart.

>>757612
Aw, i wanted to get chummy with the handsome creatures of the dark as a 18 years old girl who is dropped into the supernatural world is wont to do

>spoiler
Will do

Eh lets request an audience with oberon.

>>757629
Make up your minds already guys.
>writing for audience
To be clear, the only reason I'm accepting votes past the cutoff is that this is a big decision.

>>757636
If it means anything, I'll vote for an audience as well.

>>757627
PREPARE FOR BROODING ANGSTY MONSTERS

>>757636
“I...I think I’d like an audience with the Far Court, your Highness.” You stammer out, and the murmuring around the rotunda increases in volume. The Queen, however, only gives another one of those strange almost-smiles, and nods her head.

From your left, you hear clicking footsteps and glance over, a chill running over your body when you see what made the noise. Walking toward you is a satyr no less than 8 feet tall, his hooves casting sparks against the marble floors with every step. A pair of curling horns spiral up from his temples, the same dark brown color as the coarse hair covering his legs. His stocky form couldn’t be more at odds with that of the members of the Court.

“Ramet, do let my dead husband know this young one requests an audience, say...two days hence?” The satyr bows his head and leaves through the same door you came in, which appears to be the only door in the Court.

“Now, I think that’s settled. I do expect to see you after your audience with my Oberon, whether you deliver good news or ill. I have spent entirely too much time on this matter, but oh how diverting you are. Safe travels!” she waves her hand peremptorily, dismissing you, and the scarred man drags you from the floor before you have a chance to speak.

He makes it back to the couch nearest the door before collapsing, mopping the sweat off his brow with his sleeve.
“Do you have any idea how many times you came this close to upsetting her?” he asks, sagging against the wall. He shakes his head doggedly. “No matter. Look, you want to go back to the library, right? It’s probably safe for you there since you’re still unaligned.”
>Yes, take me to the library
>No, take me somewhere else
>write-in

>>757698
Let's head back to the library, we must not leave our mother worrying about our magical exit from Portland.

>>757698
>upsetting her
Her or the QM?

Let's go back to the library, we have to see what's mom up to.
We should ask his name before leaving

>>757698
>>Yes, take me to the library

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95KB, 400x400px

>>757721
pic related
>>757713
>>757724
Writing for library

>>757698
>>No, take me somewhere else

“Yeah, take me back to the library.” You hesitate “Wait, I’m not going to throw up again, am I?” The scarred man chuckles softly, regaining some of his color.

“No, no, don’t worry about that. The first time through a gate like that is always rough, but it shouldn’t be as bad this time.” He straightens up, stretches, and goes over to the door, opening it wide. On the other side, you can see the same Portland street you walked in from, drying off after the brief rain earlier. It’s unnerving, seeing the noon sunshine on one side of the door and the golden twilight on the other. You take one last look around the Court, trying to absorb the architecture, the color of the light, the almost unnoticeable scent of old paper, and step back through the door. The scarred man follows close behind.

The two of you start back towards the edge of the wards surrounding the Court so that he can set up another gate, or portal, or whatever it is. You get back to the alleyway where you first came through and he starts to wave his hands around, tracing patterns in the air with his fingertips. Something comes to you.

“Hey, what’s your name, anyway?” He looks startled, then relaxes again.

“I almost forgot to tell you. Never use your real name when doing business, alright? It’s a bad habit, and while most couldn’t do more than make your milk go bad, you shouldn’t chance it. You can call me...Argus. What’ll your nom de guerre be?” he continues running his hands up and down, fingers weaving between each other, the familiar greenish glow starting to return.
>write-in pseudonym for use with the fae, or at least with Argus

>>757779
Sabrina, "Warlock" in training.

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>>757779
>>757791 This is fine for now

>>757751
Take this as an offering, agitated skelly

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>>757791
>>757809
Writing for Sabrina
B-baka! It's not like I like your f-fanart or anything!

>>757837
Good night skelly-chan.
>>757809
Good night fan-art anon.

>>757845
Good night Agent8
This post will self destruct in ten seconds

>>757845
Goodnight!
I'm afraid this will probably be the last post of the night for me as well, friends. See you all tomorrow though, and that's for certain.

>>757837
“Hmm...Sabrina. That’ll do, at least for now, and it certainly fits.” You grin, and Argus gives you a look somewhere between amused and exasperated. He finishes the gate much more quickly this time, something about reestablishing a connection rather than creating a new one or something along those lines.

You’re somewhat nervous stepping through, but he was right, it’s not nearly as bad the second time around. Still a little nauseating, but not bad. He takes you into a conveniently vacant parking lot not too far from the library. The instant you set down, your phone starts buzzing: your mom. She’s wondering if you’d prefer Italian or Chinese for lunch, and when you didn’t text back right away decided a call was in order...but of course you didn’t have great reception in the Court.

You start to take the call, then pause. Wait, why does it feel like there’s something you’re forgetting, something you started out doing... You spin towards Argus, about to step back through the gate.
“Why did you blow up the library, anyway?” He freezes, looking guilty, then mumbles something about Seelie Court business and ducks through his portal. Typical.

You swipe right on the phone and chatter with your mom about lunch, trying to think of the best place to find a public rest room to clean up the scratches on your leg and wash out your mouth--that still tastes like puke--before you meet up with her. An eventful day, and only half over. This magic thing is going to be fun.

>>757883
Goodnight, Skelly. Thank you for running

>>757883
Also, Italian. No question

>>757883
I missed it again but man skelly I love to read your work! Seriously though, keep it up

>>757883
Def Italian.

Sorry folks, due to unforseen consequences I can't run things tonight. I'm glad you've enjoyed it so far, though!

>>760056
Shit, have you been medling with bussinessmen from another dimension?
Those are the kind of consequences you get when you fuck with those

Wait, is the G-Man part of the fair folk?

LOVING this quest. Keep it up.

Gonna be starting a little earlier today, probably running at 4pm EST, bit more than two hours from now.

>>764520
I'll only be able to participate from my phone, and i can't really use Illustrator there. So if there is anything you guys want me to draw something, tell me now

>>764530
Hmm...think you could do a general sketch of the Seelie Court?

>>764597
Titania on her throne, shady robed figures surrounding a central area, an inconspicuous as heck giant sartyr, all in a palace?

Can do. Anything i've missed on that list?

>>764611
Nothing comes to mind, that sounds perfect. Can't wait to see it!

Writing now.

“Yeah Mom, Italian for sure.” You say, scrubbing furiously at the scrapes on your leg as you sit in the single-occupancy bathroom of the bakery. They don’t look nearly as bad once you’ve gotten the dirt and dust off of them, and you’re pretty sure you can pass them off as something other than falling through the floor of a structurally unsound library. You got a few strange looks asking to use the bathroom, but once you’d gone pouty ans sad the cashier had been accommodating enough.

“Well the restaurant is on Spring Street, you can’t miss it. I’ll get us a table in...20 minutes. That should be plenty of time for you to finish up whatever you and your friends are doing and get over here.” Her voice sounds a little weary over the phone, the product of a long morning spent wading through bureaucracies.

“Sounds good to me, Mom!” You answer cheerfully, wiping off a little spot of dry blood near your ankle and checking yourself out in the mirror. As good as it was gonna get, but it still looked like somebody with cerebral palsy had tried to shave your leg. You’d have to explain that away somehow…

You give the cashier a wave on your way out and buy a small chocolate croissant to nibble on, chewing slowly as you walk back towards the library. The crowd has thinned out a bit from earlier and the cops seem more relaxed now that nobody’s pressing up against the yellow caution tape.

You stand across the street, savouring the last of the pastry as you think. You still have a little time...you could probably check out the library again, see what Argus was doing ripping pages out of that book. That said, it would be risking being late on Mom, which she wouldn’t appreciate at all, and there’s no guarantee of finding anything even if you can get in.

Or you could go over to the restaurant now. You’d definitely be on time, giving you some points with Mom, but you’d miss out on the chance to do anything else here…

>head straight to lunch
>stick around at the library, try to head back in
>write-in

>>765016
>head straight to lunch

>>765016
>head straight to lunch
Being late and looking worse for wear probably wouldn't go over well

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>>765016
Time to feed on the carcasses of the weak that have been mutilated beyond recognition... I want meatballs.


Hoers cultist

>>765149
>>765152
Writing

>>765218
That's so good, draw-anon! I love your style and how you did Titania's hair. Spider also gets hella points in my book.

>>765219
Probably best not to tempt fate on this one. The probability you’ll be able to get in, find something worthwhile and get out again in time to meet Mom at the restaurant is pretty much nil. You toss the wrapper from the croissant into a bin and start on a brisk walk towards Spring Street.

You find the café easily enough; as your Mom said, it’d be hard to miss. The rest of the area is the usual tourist-y assortment of fudge shops, t-shirt stores and the occasional tattoo parlor or bar. It helps that your Mom is already in the outside seating area, reclining on one of the classy wrought-iron chairs, made slightly more comfortable with the addition of a few cushions on the seat and back.

You wave to her and head inside, letting the harried-looking waitress know that you’re with “Shepherd, party of two” before she leads you to where your mother is sitting, dropping off a small glossy menu and disappearing into the building.

You two go back and forth over what to get for a little while, eventually settling on the excellent goat-cheese and candied almond salad. Then your Mom sets down her menu and glances down.

As nice as the cafe table is, its mesh top doesn’t offer much concealment, and she immediately clucks her tongue, reaching over to touch your scratched-up knee.

“Aww, what happened to your leg, sweetie?” She asks, genuine concern in her voice. She sounds kind enough now, but she has zero tolerance for lies. If you’re going to tell a whopper, and you probably are, it’s got to be a good one.

>tell a lie (suggestions, will require a roll)
>tell the truth
>change the subject
>write-in

>>765326
>>change the subject

>>765326
Tell her a lie, I was in a park playing around and I fell or ran through some weeds.

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>>765326
This should make it easier to see the lines

Let me just say, that i won't trust wooden floors like i used to. But enough of that, how was your day?

>>765326
>tell the truth
Oh you know, I just happened to sneak into that library, get accosted by a strange man, abducted and taken to a secret gathering of bizarre strangers. You know, normal teenage weekend stuff.

>>765331
>>765382
>>765383
Writing for semi-truth, deflecting.

>>765326
>>>change the subject

With these sorts of things, it’s best to be as honest as possible. Easier to remember your story if it’s based on what really happened, after all.

“Let’s just say I won’t trust wooden floors like I used to. But enough of that, how was your day? Errands go well?” You try to project a genuine interest in her past few hours of standing in lines and signing envelopes of various types, and she seems to buy it. Still, there’s definitely a look in her eye that says she won’t forget about this.

Your salads come and they’re just as good as you remember, if a little pricey. That’s the norm in areas with such heavy tourism though; everybody’s trying to scalp the vacationers. Between bites of spinach drizzled in raspberry vinaigrette she mentions that things actually went much quicker than normal this morning.

“Oh, is that so? Beat the rush to the passport offices or something like that?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact. I thought I was going to be here until at least two, but I’ve done just about everything I needed to. I was going to head back after lunch, but I know you’ve been busy with a friend. Did you want to hang around a bit more? I don’t mind doing some window-shopping if you’re in the middle of something. Otherwise I was thinking we could head home?”

You pause to think a bit. It would be nice to be able to get home and do a bit more research in the grimoire. The little snippets you got to scan through last night before passing out looked promising, especially the chapters on physical forms...you’ve already got a few ideas about that.

Still, you’re sure you could find something going on in a city like this. From what you’ve seen already, magical happenings are anything but rare in Portland, and there’s always the library to investigate. You might be able to just push Argus for some more info on that the next time you see him though.

How do you answer?
>head home now
>stay in the city long (reason?)
>write-in

>>765465
Time to hit the books at home

>>765465
Let's head home.

>>765484
>>765495
Writing for going home.

If you guys have another request, do tell me. It might not be ready this session but i'll drop it here when it's done

As nice as the city is, you’re pretty much out of reasons to stay here...and the treehouse at home is waiting. You’ve started to think of it as almost a sanctuary, a sort of home that belongs to you alone. Performing unholy rituals in the dark of the night will do that, you suppose. You should probably take some steps to make it more private.

“Nah, she had something to do after lunch as well, so I don’t mind heading home early. Gives me a chance to do some reading I’ve been meaning to do, anyway.” You answer with a smile, and Mom seems pleased by your response.

The two of you finish off your salads and pay the bill, walking towards the parking garage where you left the car earlier in the day. The ride back is much the same as the ride this morning, just pleasant chatter and casual discussion of your day. You stay intentionally vague, and she doesn’t press, more than happy to have the chance to talk about that damned DMV clerk who snubbed her.

You get home quickly enough, and she heads upstairs to put away some paperwork in the master bedroom. You make a beeline for your own bedroom, pulling out the grimoire and opening it up. The table of contents stares back at you, listing out the chapters.

1. Simple Animal Shades
2. Simple Human Shades
3. True Human Shades
4. Lesser Physical Form, Animal
5. Greater Physical Form, Animal
6. Lesser Physical Form, Human
7. Greater Physical Form, Human
8. Controlling Multiple Summons
9. True Resurrection

You start to flip forward, then pause. You would like to catch up on your reading, but is there anything else you want to do first? There’s the question of securing the treehouse...it just wouldn’t do to have somebody else stumbling onto your circle and the other materials up there. And didn’t Dad have something he wanted you to do as well?
>Nope, this takes priority. Start reading (specify chapter)
>Hmm...yeah, best to do something else first (specify what)
>other

>>765639
Physical forms, animal

>>765639
Let's study Lesser Physical Form, I rather not mess with Humans this early, animals makes it easier.

>>765659
Let's specify, Animal, brain farted.

>>765639
>>Hmm...yeah, best to do something else first (Secure the treehouse)

>>765678
>>765654
Writing for reading the book

>>765709
seconding

Nah, that stuff is for later. Now, it’s time to learn more about dark powers better left alone. Lying down on your bed, you flip the grimoire to the chapter on Lesser Physical Forms of Animals. Seems like the next one in the series, might as well go in order.

There’s the usual section on historical references to Lesser Physical Forms. Apparently they were quite popular as shock troops and as transportation for generals, turning the tide of more than one critical battle according to the author. You get the sense that they’re not terribly durable, but are fairly quick and not too dull. You move onto the next section, reading more carefully now.

The Lesser Physical Form is best seen as something of a halfway point between the Simple Shade and the Greater Physical Form. It is valuable in combat, but not as strong nor as tolerant of damage as is the Greater Physical Form. It is swift, but not nearly as mobile as is a Simple Shade, whose aetheric form ignores mundane barriers. It's greatest asset is its ability to interact with the material world in a way the purely spiritual Shade cannot, while maintaining an energy and intelligence that the Greater Physical Form loses in its emphasis on the purely material.
Famous are the tireless skeletal mounts that many necromancers ride into battle, the legions of bones that lead many a dark wizard's forces, even the fleshless birds that carry messages to their more mundane servants. Summons given Lesser Physical Form are also renowned for their use as household servants, intelligent enough to prepare the simpler and more tedious aspects of many rituals and chores and free their master to put his time to better use.

You nod, absorbing the information. All seems straightforward enough. Skeletons with brains, more or less. Moving forward, you find the section about the ritual used to raise them.

[I] Lazy apprentices may be tempted to use the remains they gather for earlier chapters for multiple rituals, but this is NOT ADVISED. A single ritual brings the essence of a creature to the material plane and binds it to a physical form. Attempting to bind a single being's essence to multiple physical constructs can only result in instability, and ultimately, the destabilization of all involved. As before, a dry place with plenty of room must be found, and the circle drawn.

This time, the circle is different. Rather than a spiraling series of looping circles, it's primarily a group of triangles, arranged in such a way that some of their lines form a curve, then dissolve into a set of jumbled points and angles. It looks like a real bitch to copy over.
(1/2)

And also as before, three candles must be lit and places around the circle for Birth, Life, and Death, the gateposts of our existence. The libation must be prepared of warm wine, though more than a pinprick's worth of blood is needed on this occasion. Cedar for strength, mullein to cleanse and strip away flesh, and aconite to connect to death's realm. Wild mint for vitality, burdock to ensure its loyalty, and nettle, if it can be found, for skill. There is an additional step, once the remains have been gathered, with no more than 3 out of every 10 bones being missing. An offering must be made. This is best chosen as meat, as close as possible to the animal's own flesh. This ensures a strong binding to their bones, once the libation is poured over the ashes, carrying them onto the scaffold that will contain their spirit. Without this, the bond will last at most a day, or less in daylight, and the ritual will have to be repeated. For this reason, it may be skipped in times of great hurry, or when the longevity of a summoned form is not an issue. If the remains are not purely skeletal, the remaining meat will likely serve quite well in place of a more formal offering.

You sit back for a moment, chewing your lip in thought. Where the hell are you going to get sufficient remains to do this? And what the hell is aconite? You’re familiar with most of the rest from working in Dad’s herb garden, but you don’t remember ever seeing anything like that.

Just as you sink deeper into thought, there’s a heavy knock at your door, and a shrill voice calling your name.
“Lizzieeeee! I need a favor!” It’s your sister Olivia, and she sounds desperate.
>ignore her (she might be persistent)
>open the door, hear her out
>other

>>765826
Let's see what our sister wants, but stash the books, we also need a note to google aconite.

>>765826
>>open the door, hear her out

>>765826
>>open the door, hear her out

>>765855
>>765858
>>765913
Writing for listening to our sister.

Current post speed and length is good? Yes, no, maybe so?

With a groan you get up and go to open the door, then stop. You can’t exactly let her in with evidence of your supernatural meddlings lying about, can you? You stash the grimoire in the back of your desk drawer, underneath a couple of college application folders you haven’t gotten around to throwing out yet. Before you forget, your scribble something about aconite down on a sticky note and put it in your pocket.

Your dabblings in the black arts sufficiently hidden, you yank on the doorhandle to reveal Olivia looking awfully contrite, her eyes already wet. It’s a classic opening move when asking for a big favour, and having practically invented the technique you’re not about to fall for it.

“What is it?” You ask, making it clear by your brisk tone that you’re well above such amateur-level manipulation. To her credit, Olivia drops the act immediately.

“I’m going over Jane’s house tonight. There will be boys, and her parents are out of town. I need you to cover for me.”

“What? Why should I risk my neck just so you can mack on some lacrosse player?” You scoff at the very idea.

“I’ll owe you one. A big one. You know I’m good for it, and you can always use a favor.”

You think about it. It probably won’t be that hard to make up a convincing excuse, say that she and you are hanging out together in your room watching a movie after dinner. Not too hard to believe, and it gives you a free pass for the night as well, assuming your parents aren’t too curious.

Still, there’s always the chance you’ll land in hot water, and while Olivia is always good for a favor, you’re not sure what use it’d be to you.

>agree to help her
>don’t agree to help her
>negotiate (specify for what)
>other

>>766004
Nah, it's not woth risking, especially since I thought we would look for our first test in Lesser Physical Form(Animal). Unless we keep Cat around to watch over.

>>766004
>>agree to help her

>>766024
>>766028
1 for not helping
2 for helping
Looks like thread has begun to autosage. I'll make a new one and link it if it is.

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>766101
Durp forgot to roll

New Thread
>>766214
>>766214
>>766214