Modern Necromancy Quest Redux: Thread Eight

We've just gotten our wounds dressed after dealing with the poltergeist for a second time (accidentally freed him while cleaning the place up) and leaving the shop, the woman having escaped while we were busy with her pet ghost.
>>946561
Best to keep as close to the truth as possible. “Oh what tangled webs we weave...” and all that. You’d managed to get away with claiming you’d been mugged at the urgent care clinic, although you figured you’d probably get a much closer interrogation from your Mom. They’d offered to help you fill out a police report at the clinic, but it was quite a busy place and they didn’t really press when you claimed not to have seen the guy’s face, making it futile to report it. After that, you’d just kind of slipped out.

You’re on your way to meet your mom with a heavy heart, sure she’ll see through your admittedly well-constructed story. You’re set to meet her not far from the library area she dropped you off at, and you figure you’ll be able to get away with claiming the bookshop owner attacked you and threw you down the stairs. It’s not too far off from the truth, and nicely explains all your injuries.

Still, you dread lying to your Mom, and dread meeting Oberon and dealing with the whole Unseelie Court in such a weakened state. You know they’re nothing close to human, and you can’t help but remember the nature documentaries you’ve seen, all reminding the viewer that wolves always go after the weakest and sickest members of the herd…

You’re so deep in thought that even Cat’s warning doesn’t stop you from colliding with the man that comes around the corner at a brisk walk. You stumble back, a little confused. He’s deeply scarred, and a long green coat hangs off his frame. You look up into his face with disbelief, wondering what the odds are you’d bump into him again.

“Hey...Sabrina.” Argus says, a smile pulling across his face for a second before his eyebrows knit together in concern. “Whoa, you look like hell. What did you run into? One of the Unseelie gangs give you some trouble?”
How do you respond?
>Lie. (Just some mundane trouble, no need to worry about it.)
>Truth, minus Cat’s role. (Wannabe necromancer lady jumped me when I asked about a warding grimoire at her store.)
>Evade. (Nothing too bad. What are you doing around here?)

>>959614
>Truth, minus Cat’s role.

>>959650
Writing.

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>>959596
Errrhh merr gerrdd issa nerkermanker qurst!

>>959614
>Truth, minus Cat's role.

See what he thinks about Necromancers, get a taste of the waters for how the Seelie might treat us since I assume Titania might be the only one savvy to what we are, if even her.

If we are KOS it would be nice to know. >>959725
Oh wait, nvm

So glad to see you running, my heart is filled with joy, sadly I don't have a bag of Grasshoppers to burn in offering.

>>959803
That's alright, I'm here now, no offering required.
>>959725
“No, it was worse than that.” You stretch your shoulder a little and grimace. “I figured if I was going into the Unseelie Court tomorrow, I should learn a little about warding. So I went around the shops here, asking after a couple of books I’d heard of. Finally got sent over to this one bookshop run by a skinny old lady since she apparently had a copy of the grimoire I was looking for. It’s expensive, of course, so I ask if I could work it off. She agrees, then locks me in the basement with some zombie monstrosity. So I-”

“She was a necromancer?!” Argus demands, cutting you off. He spoke a little louder than was perhaps wise, and a few people are starting to stare. You can’t really blame them—a guy scarred from head to toe and a girl who looks like she’s on her way to the same thing shouting about necromancy? It’s enough to turn heads. So Argus grabs the arm that isn’t in a cast and leads you into a small cafe. He throws some money at the cashier and mutters about coffee before sitting down at the most secluded booth available.

“I don’t think so?” you say, hesitantly, trying to think of a way to explain without admitting that you were told this by a dead cat. Thankfully, Argus doesn’t seem too curious, and motions for you to finish your story. So you go along with the rest, explaining everything from smacking it around with the doorknob to trapping it and tying up the old woman, and finally, having to re-trap it and the woman’s escape. At the end of it he leans back and sucks a breath in through his teeth.

“Damn, Sabrina. A day or two alone and you get into trouble like this? I’m impressed.” He pauses thoughtfully. “You’re pretty young...you still live with your parents? You know how you’re gonna explain this?”
What’s your answer?
>Yeah, I got it covered. Don’t worry about it.
>Well...I’m not sure, but I’ll figure it out somehow, no problem.
>I got nothing. I’d appreciate some help, if you feel like giving it?

>>959813
I have some ideas, but i feel like they would crumble under scrutiny.
Anyway, what's the deal with Necromancers? You seemed pretty... I don't know, concerned when i told you?
What could she have done to me that naother mage willing to kill wouldn't?

>>959813
>I got nothing, I'd appreciate some help, if you feel like giving it?

Also get him to talk about why he spazzed out when we said she might be a Necromancer.

Hopefully we get more people showing up here soon. This quest is being criminally undervisited these last few runs.

>>959867
>>959830
Writing.

“Well, I’ve got a few ideas, but I feel like they’d fall apart under scrutiny.” You admit, giving a rueful grin. “I’d appreciate whatever help you can give.”
Argus doesn’t return your smile, but his voice has a trace of mirth in it when he speaks.

“Happy to help. My parents were magic users, but I had a few friends stuck in the broom closet, so to speak. Healing isn’t my area of expertise, but I can help you hide the injuries for sure.”

“Hide them? How do you plan on doing that?” You ask, quirking your head to the side. “They’re pretty noticeable what with the cast and all.”

“Glamours!” he replies, waggling his fingers. “I’ll put a glamour over your arm and shoulder, and it’ll look like they’re fit as a fiddle. They’ll still take a while to heal, of course, and anybody stronger than the glamour will be able to see it well enough, but it should suffice to keep the non-magic folk off your back.”

You nod appreciatively. That’ll certainly make life easier. Argus gets up and leaves the cafe, motioning for you to follow and explaining that you’ll need a more private spot for him to weave a glamour. The cashier shouts that he forgot his coffee as you two walk out, but he ignores her. As he leads the way through the streets, a question pricks at your mind. You’re not sure you’ll like the answer, but...

“So, by the way, what’s up with necromancers? You seemed kind of, concerned, I guess, when I told you. What’s worse about a murderous necromancer compared to some other kind of murderous magic user?”
Argus looks uncomfortable for a second before checking over his shoulder and pulling you into an alley. You realize with a start that it’s the one behind the library that you followed him into just a few days ago. He places his hands on your arm and something like a heat-haze starts to radiate out, wrapping itself around your cast. As it works, he speaks, but slowly.
(cont.)

>>960021
“Look, it’s not really reasonable. I know it, most people recognize it, but...necromancers aren’t well liked by anybody human. The Unseelie recruit them because they’re useful and the Seelie don’t want them, but they’re not popular even there. Not to mention they’re rare as all hell. I’ve only heard of ten or twenty all across the country in the last decade, and most of them met with nasty ends. It’s just not right, what they do. It doesn’t work the same as other magic, so you can never tell what they’re going to do next. If there really is one in Portland, Titania won’t be pleased.”

Argus sighs, and puts his hand on your shoulder as well. This one goes faster and before long, both are covered in that shimmering haze that Argus assures you will prevent any non-magic user from seeing it. With a quick wave, he starts to walk off immediately, despite your protests.

>Follow him, ask for a way to reach him, or at least more information. You almost got into a mess today because you didn’t have a way to find magic users when you needed help, no way you’re letting that happen again.
>You’re already late to meet up with your Mom. You don’t know how you’re going to meet up with the Unseelie tomorrow, but if you end up needing a ride it might be a bad idea to make her mad. Go meet up with her right now.
>write-in

>>960031
Is cat still around, or he got dispelled when we colided with our mage friend?

Take a pen and write our phone number in it. Whistle at Argus and throw it at him when he turns back.
"Don't take that the wrong way, eh? I just need someone i can communicate with in this whole mess. so do respond or i'll send a little thing to bother you until you do!"
Then go and see mom

>>960031
>>Follow him, ask for a way to reach him, or at least more information. You almost got into a mess today because you didn’t have a way to find magic users when you needed help, no way you’re letting that happen again.

Well, this is going to be difficult.

We should probably text mom and tell her we might be a little late.

How the hell are we going to get in the good graces of the Seelie when apparently even Titania doesn't like Necromancers. All this persecution just makes a girl want to curl up in her Fortress of Wholesome Christianity with her ghost cat and make the world go away.

>>960119
>even titania doesn't like necromancers
Remember, this is all being filtered through Argus' perception.
>>960116
Writing for both.

>>960119
>even Titania doesn't like Necromancers.
Eh, i think Argus might tolerate our nercomantic degeneracy if we breach the subject softly.
At least he recognizes his view is based mostly on prejudice and feelings that actual reason.

Now that i think about it, this "offer" of seeing the other court before deciding instead of being drafted to her side, might not be a common courtesy. It might be an attempt to get rid of us while at the same time, realizing how useful would be to have a necromancer in her ranks, giving us a chance to come back.

>We should probably text mom
We might tell her we decided to stay a bit longer in the hospital after the mugging. Other than that, we can blame that stuff on the concussion. Those medical ensurance reports aren't just going to disappear like that.

You fish around in your bag, managing to find a scrap of paper and a pen that’s been sitting there for who knows how long. It takes a few tries to get the damned thing to actually write, but you get your cell number scrawled on the paper and chase after Argus, Cat in close pursuit. It’s hard getting through the crowd without bumping your wrist, but you manage, and tug on the sleeve of his green coat hard enough to get his attention. He turns to look at you, exasperated, and you hand him the paper.

“Don’t get any ideas, but I just need someone to talk to about this whole mess. Make sure to respond or I'll send something to bother you until you do.” You smirk at the last part, and Argus rolls his eyes and mutters something about ‘damned warlocks’ that you don’t quite catch.

“Fine, I’ll give you a call at some point. For now, I really have got someplace to be. If you hadn’t shown up looking like you’d been through a woodchipper, I wouldn’t have bothered stopping.” He gives you a nod, then turns on his heel and vanishes into the crowd. You shake your head and head towards your meeting spot with Mom, texting her that something kept you u and you’ll explain when you get there.

It’s another few minutes before you find her car, parked just where she said it would be. She’s flipping through some romance novel, but looks up when you tap on the window. She flashes you a smile, thankfully not too upset you’re later than planned, but her eyes seem to linger on you when you slide into the front seat opposite her.
“So, what was it that kept you?” her tone is casual, but you know just how little tolerance she has for lies.
>Just got caught up with my friend, lost track of time. (Highest difficulty to convince her but will invite the least suspicion)
>Well...I kind of got mugged. I got checked out at a clinic and that took longer than I thought... (Easier to convince her, but she’ll want more detail)
>This crazy shopkeep attacked me when I went into her bookstore! I got concussed, but I’m mostly fine besides that. (Easiest to convince, but she’ll want the whole story laid out.)

>>960253
>>Well...I kind of got mugged. I got checked out at a clinic and that took longer than I thought... (Easier to convince her, but she’ll want more detail)

>>960267
Backing this as well.

We think as one!

I am just waiting for it to turn out that mom is a Magic User, dad is a magic user, and sis is a magic user. They all thought we were a squib and have been hiding it from us, and now it would be super awkward to explain it so they just smile and nod and pretend not to see Lizz digging up and playing with dead things while they are screaming internally and torn between being happy their daughter found her magical calling, and extremely dissappointed that it turned out to be what it is.

I feel like it would be like your daughter coming out to you as a gay transgendered man with feminine presentation and a phantom micro-pseudopenis and severe gynocomastia. You would be horrified but for everyone that didnt know the crazyness that was going on in her head would just see a normal pretty, boy loving girl.

Just like all the mages see a normal looking Warlock, but in reality we are busting down the gates of the Underworld and stuffing the souls in a bag before hightailing back into the land of the living and giggling while we throw ghosts at all our problems.

>>960340
>>960267
Writing.

>>960348
I have a question, if we got a hold of a giant fish skeleton like say a complete Tuna skeleton, would it just flop around uselessly on land? Would there be any point in animating it since even in the water it wouldnt get much speed going if its fins werent intact?

Also, what about taxidermied animals, Like say a taxidermy fish/coyote. I know a lot of them don't have the bones in them anymore but it is semi common for fish to still have the skeleton or at least the skull and jaws. Would just the skeleton animate or would we get the whole thing moving.

Also, what if we animated a bunch of small things, like go the the Great Lakes and do some Smelt fishing and just animate a couple thousand of the little shits to swarm people. They are like the length of a pinky finger, so they cant take much libation and sacrifice to keep running. Just order a Tuna footlong from subway and light it on fire in an alley before we need to go into battle.

I know we wanted to go for a nautical theme, there are sooo many options here. I say we start raising an army of fish skeletons ASAP. The book may have said it was almost impossible for a necromancer to have a full army of the undead, but that book was written before bored teenagers with credit cards, the internet, and shady pet-store websites existed.

>>960348
Also, any chance we could pay a visit to Chicago at some point while building our smelt army, I know it isn't aquatic but there is a very specific fossil at a certain museum we might just want to visit. One of the only nearly complete t-rex skeletons in the world, 90% of all bones by bulk being intact.

Good old Sue at the Field Museum in Chicago.

>>960387
>>960419
A tuna skeleton, re-animated with lesser physical form, would appear to "swim" through the air. This would, however, take more energy than a bird or mammal skeleton would use for moving around, and so would require greater sacrifices.
I believe the book specified no less than 7/10 bones present for a lesser physical form. Only the skeleton is animated, any stuffing or fur would be torn off when it moved. Army of fish skeletons is possible with work, see the section of grimoire detailing raising multiple summons at once.
Also it's been discussed, but someone may have gotten to museum skeletons before you.

>>960348
“Well...I kind of got mugged.”
Her mouth opens into a perfect “O” of surprise, and she immediately fires off a barrage of worried questions, running her hands over you to check for injuries.

“I’m so sorry! Oh my poor baby, are you alright? Did you file a report? He didn’t hurt you, did he?
You should have a doctor check you out just in case!” She goes on, alternatively chiding and reassuring you.

“It’s okay Mom, I already went to an urgent care clinic. He, uh, knocked me down, but that was it. I got a little concussion apparently, but nothing else.” You thank God that you ran into Argus—otherwise, you’re sure she’d already be heading for the ICU. She looks you over one more time and then hugs you close, planting a kiss on your forehead before starting the car and driving home.

“Well you should stay at home tomorrow.” she says, lips pursed with anxiety. “And I’ll have Dr. Wan check you out if you don’t feel better in a few days. Head injuries are nothing to shake a stick at. This woman I knew back in school--”

She continues on, talking about some rugby player that got a minor head injury and later had to be rushed to the emergency room when she started bleeding into her brain. It’s a somewhat gorier tale than she normally tells, and she seems a little shaken. Thankfully, you get back home before she can work herself up too much, and she sends you straight to bed though it’s only mid-afternoon. Lying there, staring up at your off-white ceiling, you wonder what to do now.
>Crack open Ulysses’ grimoire! You went through all this trouble, might as well take advantage of it
>Take a nap. Your mom was right, you’re not feeling like yourself and you do have a head injury. Even if you read the book you’re not sure how much you’d get out of it.
>write-in

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>>960465
>Take a nap.

I just hope it Liz doesn't share the same definition of nap as the QM

Also
>Rugby player
>Woman
There is a rugby woman's league? Interesting

>We might as well go to sleep

>>960465
>>Crack open Ulysses’ grimoire! You went through all this trouble, might as well take advantage of it

Gotta atleast get some basics going, we gotta be ready for tomorrow.

Hopefully someone will show up to break the tie soon. I don't know why this is just the three of us at the minute. I don't want this quest to peter out!

yeah lets hope that we get more peoplez

>>960501
>>960560
Roll please. 1d20, best of three, crits take precedence.

How do you roll?

Rolled 5 (1d20)

Lets try and see if this works

Rolled 2 (1d20)

>>960585

Well, shit

Looks like we both got bad rolls, lets see how this plays out

Rolled 15 (1d20)

>>960585

Was waiting for third roll, but I guess not.
Writing.

>>960653
Haha, I spoke too soon.

>>960625
>>960631
Hopefully I wasn't too late, got caught up shitposting on /ck/

>>960659
Sorry, didn't expect us to have to roll for sleeping XD

Oh God something terrible is going to happen isnt it.

>960671
Dont worry you got a 15 on ya roll.

>>960671
>something horrible is going to happen
Not since you've rolled a 15 it isn't.

>>960663
>/ck/
Are you in this quest's Discord channel? You should.

You wake up, feeling groggy and off-balance. It’s still dark outside, so it’s probably fairly late. You flick on the light and see a plate of food left on your desk—your mom must have put it there, figuring it was better not to wake you up. That was sweet of her, though you wish she hadn’t let you snooze the day away. Still, you do feel better. You dig into the meal, savouring the only food you’ve had since the tuna-melt you had for lunch. That was at least 10 hours ago, and it’s been a long day.

As you wolf down the food, Cat sitting curled up on the end of your bed, you pick up your phone. The notification light is blinking, so you must have missed a call or text. Only, when you turn it on and look through your messages, all you have is a call from an unknown number, from just a few minutes ago. Weird. You’d have expected something from a friend or even a check-in from Dad, but who could be calling you at this time of night?

You finish the meal and stand up, wandering over to the kitchen to get something to wash it down with. You like being up late, after everybody else has gone to sleep. It’s peaceful somehow, having the house all to yourself in the dim light of the moon. You return to your room with a glass of water, sipping slowly and feeling your grogginess recede.

You feel better now than you did this afternoon, but you know it’s only a matter of hours until you’re expected to meet with the Unseelie, the Winter Court. You don’t know what to expect; despite Argus’ warnings you’re hopeful that it’ll be a decent place.

Whatever the case, you’re certain you’ll meet the challenges and survive. You have so far, after all.
****
That’s it for the night, gents. Sorry for the late start, but if any of you are interested I may be able to run tomorrow as well. Thanks for sticking around despite everything, and hopefully we can get a few more people in for the future. See you soon!

I suggest that we call the number. It might be argus

>>960736
Thank you for running Skelly

See ya!

>>960747
We should ask them something only Argus would know.
Just to be sure

>>960759
Like how many spooks do we give

>>960685
I would be, but apparently I have to register for it now instead of just freely using a random name.

>>960850
Just pick a random name and be done with it.
We can talk about deers there

>>960850
Figure out an okay general-use name for anywhere else. Don't worry about the name you want for this quest.

Once you're on the server, you can set a serverside nickname for yourself.

Will be running tonight at 7:30 if all goes well. I'll let you know.

Writing now.

>>960747
>>960759
Sipping at your water, you decide to call the mystery number. It might be Argus, in which case it’d be a good thing to have his number on speed dial. On the other hand, it could just be a wrong number, or worse yet an attempt to trick you into revealing information. After all, you did give him your number in the middle of a crowd. Anybody could have been watching, really.

So you dial it up, thinking of something that only Argus would know. Where you two first met would probably be a good one, especially if you ask for specifics. Who’d guess it had been in a blown-up library, after all? You’re still not sure what he was looking for in there, but you’d guess it was something for the Court from the way he talked about it.

The dial tone sounds a couple times, and just when you figure it’s about to go to voicemail, somebody answers.

“Hello, who is it?” The voice is curt, but certainly sounds like Argus. It’s odd he didn’t give his name, but if Argus is a pseudonym, who knows how many people know him by different names? Best to check, then.

“Sabrina. If this is Argus, tell me where we first met, specifically.”

“Ah, returning my call from earlier. Look, this isn’t really a good time, but we met in the Portland library a few days ago, after it burned up a bit. Good job being careful. Now, again, not a really good time to call. Did you need anything?”
>Yeah, I had a question...(suggest something to ask)
>Yeah, I was wondering if you had advice for when I go to the Unseelie Court tomorrow?
>No, nothing. Sorry to bother.

Sorry for delay, was sure I'd hit submit on that post and the thread was just dead-er than usual.

>>966397
>Yeah, I was wondering if you had advice for when I go to the Unseelie Court tomorrow?

>>966435
This is fine

>>966435
>>966452
Writing.

“Yeah, actually. I’m going to visit the Unseelie Court tomorrow--” you check the clock and correct yourself “--or later today I guess. I’m feeling kind of nervous...got any advice to make sure I get through it without too much trouble? You seemed to have some suggestions when you took me to the Seelie.”
You hear a sigh from the other end of the line, and Argus speaks, sounding a little exasperated.

“Look, you were the one who was fool-hardy enough to actually ask to go there in the first place. Still, I guess it’d be bad form to let you get killed so soon. Fine. Just know this—everything I warned you about the Seelie Court? The fact that they’re not human, that they’re mercurial, that you have to watch yourself? It goes double for the Unseelie.”

“They’re that bad, huh?”

“You don’t know the half of it. Just stay on guard, don’t take anything at face value, and please, for the love of whatever poor deity watches over teenagers, don’t take any gifts or eat any food. Now really, I do have to get back to what I was doing.”
You hear a rustling sound on the other end of the line and start to say goodbye, but he’s already hung up. You suppose that’s fair—it is very late and he was in the middle of some important work.
What to do now?
>Study Ulysses’ grimoire. You might not be able to learn enough about warding before morning comes and you have to prepare for the Unseelie, but it’s worth a shot.
>Sleep. You’re still tired and more than a little hurt. Best to give your body as much rest as possible so you’re at the top of your game when you go into the Unseelie.
>write-in

>>966514
>>Sleep.
To be honest. We are too shaken to make any use of the grimoire.
We should hide the thing VERY WELL in case the police comes.
Go to sleep and dream about hunky monsterguys

>>966514
>Sleep. You’re still tired and more than a little hurt. Best to give your body as much rest as possible so you’re at the top of your game when you go into the Unseelie.
Warding knowledge probably won't help us that much tomorrow. Being as mended as we can manage definitely will help us.

Before we sleep though, we should put Ulysses' Grimoire somewhere safe.

>>966529
>>966552
Writing.

You consider cracking open Ulysses’ grimoire and having a look at the basics of warding, but decide against it. You’re tired, it’s late, and you’re more than a little banged up. It’s best to go into difficult events with a clear head, something you’ll be lacking if you try to stay up studying warding all night. Besides which, you seriously doubt that you’ll learn anything that’ll help you against magic-users who’ve been doing this their whole lives.

So you put your dishes in the sink and return to your room, changing into a proper pair of pajamas and crawling into bed—then switching the light back on and figuring out a good place for the grimoire. It’s large enough to draw attention if you don’t do something with it, so you should definitely find a hiding place for the thing. You look around your room, pondering for a few minutes, before slipping it under your mattress. It’s probably not the best spot, but at the very least you’ll get woken up if somebody tries to take it in the meantime.

So you go back to bed, eyes already fluttering closed...

...and some time later, flicking back open, the day’s first rays of sunshine peeking through your blinds. You check your phone, and see you’ve only slept five hours or so. Not surprising, considering how early it was when you zonked out before, that you wouldn’t need to sleep in. You decide to dress for utility, digging a pair of cargo pants, a tanktop, and a light buttondown out of your closet.

Just as you finish getting ready for the day, you hear a car pull up outside. A door opens and shuts, and the distinctive noise of footsteps coming up the gravel walkway drifts through your open window.
>Best see who it is—no sense letting them wake up the whole household for a delivery.
>Let them knock or ring the doorbell. Who cares? You’ve got bigger things to worry about.
>Tell them to go away. Who goes door-to-door this time of morning? They’re practically asking to be shouted at.

>>966599
>a pair of cargo pants
Aw shiet, this gal won't be denied pockets

Ask our catter to check for us if he is still around.
Otherwise, look thought the eyehole. It might be our delivery of monster romance novels.

>>966599
>Best see who it is—no sense letting them wake up the whole household for a delivery.
If this is another delivery for us, like some kinda follow-up thing for Sikes' Grimoire, we probably shouldn't let the family see it.

>>966622
>>966614
Writing for looking with Cat to see who it is.

“D’you mind seeing who that is? If it’s somebody coming to deliver something less-than-normal, I don’t want Dad coming down the stairs to take a look.” You ask Cat, gesturing in the direction of the front door. He uncurls from where he’d been seated on your desk, stretches briefly, and moves at a leisurely pace through the wall.

He returns almost immediately, and you’re glad; you can hear the footsteps getting closer, nearly at the door already.
“It’s some kind of car, my lady. A nice one, perhaps a Rolls-Royce? In any event, its driver is approaching the front door. He’s dressed quite smartly, in a nice uniform and cap with a visor, gloves and all. I didn’t get a good look at his face, but he seemed pale. Certainly human, in any event, but I doubt he’s a magic user.”

That’s certainly interesting...somebody sent a car for you? Or possibly for somebody else in the household, though that’s a much less intriguing possibility. You wonder who would have done such a thing, and why. It’s possible somebody’s been watching you this whole time, more stealthily than the imp managed to do, and decided to contact you only now. That could be dangerous, especially since you have so little protection against physical attack…
>Ignore it. If somebody has to answer the door, let it be Mom or Dad.
>Open it. If they’re sending fancy cars, whoever it is is clearly in a good mood. Best to keep it that way.
>Go out the back door and get the drop on the driver. Hit him from behind with a shovel and he’ll probably tell you everything you want to know. Either that or die from a fractured skull, but that's the nature of risk and reward, isn't it?

>>966711
>Open it.
But sligthly, so we can peek from behind it and smash it if they seem to have less than wholesome intentions

>>966727
Writing.

You decide to open it. Best to see what they want before assuming anything, lest you scare off or anger somebody who had your best interests at heart to begin with. Still, you should be careful, just in case…

You dash to the door, reaching it just as the first soft knock echoes through the silent front hall. You open it just a pinch, wishing you had a security chain like they do in the movies so you could be sure the guy wouldn’t be able to muscle his way in. He doesn’t show any signs of wanting to do so, though, only peering at you through the slit.

“Miss, your presence is requested at the Unseelie Court by Lord Oberon, first of his name, King of the Winter Court, Emperor of the Forests Beyond and Ruler over all of the Fae.” He sees your hesitation, and seems to sag a little, speaking more softly now. “If you refuse to come, Lord Oberon has ordered that I get you to the court, even if it should cost me my life. I think he would be amused to see me die, should it come to that.”

Even with Argus’ warnings about the way the Unseelie Court works, that takes you by surprise. Is Oberon trying to use the man as a hostage against you, giving you the choice of doing what he says, or having to kill the poor chauffeur? Well, you wouldn’t want to fight him on the best of days, and this isn’t the best of days, so…
>Slam the door and refuse to go. You hate bullies and you hate capitulating to them even more.
>Go with the chauffeur. No reason not to, since you were planning on visiting the Unseelie anyway. They don’t operate by human rules, so freaking out about something like this is silly.
>Attack the chauffeur. You’re not going to the home turf of somebody who’d risk lives with a dumbass power-play like this, and if you have to fight him you might as well get the first punch in.

>>966837
>Go with the chauffeur.
Don't show any fear or hesitance. Act non-challant and show no weakness.

Say, sarcastically:
"Are you THAT dispossable? Or is he like that with everyone?"

>>966837
>Go with the chauffeur. No reason not to, since you were planning on visiting the Unseelie anyway. They don’t operate by human rules, so freaking out about something like this is silly.
Ask him, first, if there's any way he can quickly pass a message along to Oberon that we have a concussion and are probably not fit to be attending any sort of meeting.

>>966868
>>966903
Writing to ask nonchalantly if he can pass a message on to Oberon, and mentioning the concussion thing if so. If not, sarcastic quip

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>>959596
Ok where can I find the rest of this quest? Since those links are dead and this isn't on suptg for some reason.

>>966988
You can find them on either archived.moe or on b-stats. Just use the 6-digit thread number.

Skelly pasted incomplete backlinks to the first four threads, but if you check an archive for thread 6 you will find complete links to the threads you want.

You open the door the rest of the way, taking stock of the man. He’s by no means physically imposing, but he does have a good amount of height on you, most of it hidden by a slouching posture. Very pale, as Cat mentioned, with watery blue eyes that seem to wince just a little every time you move. Certainly doesn’t seem like the Unseelie have treated him too well.

“Are you that disposable?” You ask, giving a smirk “Or is Oberon just like that with everyone?”
The man gives a small smile before his response, as though it’s something he’s heard before.

“Everyone who’ll let him do it, miss. Now, if you’ll--”
You cut him off, not wanting to miss your chance.

“Do you have a way to contact Oberon? There’s something I’d like to tell him before I get to the Court.”
The man shakes his head emphatically.

“I can’t call him, I’ve never talked to him, and I never want to. I’ve never even been to the Court. I never want to do that either. I get my orders every day and I carry them out, and that’s all I do.” Though there’s a tremor of fear in his voice, it also has a thread of conviction that you hadn’t heard in him before.

“Fair enough then...”
>Get in the car as you are (phone and nothing else)
>Ask for a second, grab supplies (specify what you want)
>Ask for a second, flee out the back.

>>967002
This is not true. I did post a four-digit link, but the 6-digit .moe links that should work, don't. This is because archived.moe is currently down. Searching on b-stats is your best bet.

>>967023
>Ask for a second, grab supplies.
A thermos and an offering for Cat, just in case we get asked to display any kinda skills.

>>967061
Writing. Penultimate post due to unexpected time constraints, but will be running again tomorrow night.

“Give me just a minute, okay? I’ll be right back.”
Not waiting for the man’s response, you close the door and head back into the house. You grab a chicken breast and the last of the libation, putting the latter into a small thermos and tucking it into your bag along with Cat’s skull. You debate bringing the grimoire, but it seems like an unnecessary risk, so you leave it.

A small backpack now slung over your shoulder, you step through the door to the chauffeur’s relief, following him down to the street and climbing into the backseat of the waiting car. It stinks of money, but not in the same way that, for example, a limousine does. This was not a car bought with new money by a day trader who make his buck on last minute stocks. This was the type of car prime ministers and diplomats bought. This was a car bought by someone who was used to having money, and even more than that, used to having power.

You try to strike up conversation a few times, but the chauffeur stays silent, or offers only the briefest of responses. Soon, you give up, and settle in for the ride. To your surprise, you find yourself returning to Portland. The chauffeur pulls up in front of a ragged-looking dive bar. Before you can ask if this is really the right spot, he climbs out of the car and opens your door for you, never making eye contact. You clamber out awkwardly, both arms still painful to move and stiff from injury. Before you’ve even made it to the door, the car is gone, pulling smoothly away from the curb and disappearing into the city.

cont.

>>967281
You push it open...and see the court. Everything the Summer Court was, the Winter Court is not. This Court is rectangular, long and so comparatively narrow it almost feels like a hallway. The warm, yellowish illumination filtering through holes in the center of an open domed roof is replaced by stark beams of cold light jutting in through thin, angled windows. Though it defies reason, light enters through these windows on both sides of the hall.

It shines down on black marble and dark granite that seem to absorb the light. Drawing your eyes are the irregularly spaced braziers burning along the hall. They’re in the center of sunken circular pits, apparently designed to form seats for small groups of people to talk in relative privacy. Some are using them for just this purpose, though you’d be hesitant to apply the word “people” to the many-limbed few-eyed creatures you see there.

Dominating the hall is a massive throne carved from the same dark marble as the rest of the place, torches burning along its edges. It sits on a dais raised ten or twelve feet above the ground on a square pyramid, its layers forming stairs up to the throne. In that chair sits a man utterly befitting it. At least eight feet all, in a suit of armor that would shame King Arthur and skin as pale as bloodless death. He seems uninterested in you, for the moment, talking to a much smaller and less impressive man standing to the left of the throne, though on the same level of the pyramid.
>approach the throne and present yourself. No sense keeping such a powerful man waiting, after all.
>observe the court more closely. Makes sense to take the opportunity and learn what you can.
>leave at once. This place is obviously not safe, and you’re already injured. Best to just join the Seelie and call it a day.

>>967285
>observe the court more closely. Makes sense to take the opportunity and learn what you can.
We are not here to waste Obodido's time. However, he has made time for us to learn what the Winter Court is all about, and there is no substitute for taking in the sights and seeing what the crowd is like.

>>967335
Writing.

You decide to look around and wait for Oberon to call you. Patience paid off with the Seelie, so it’s at least worth a shot here. You cast your eyes around the hall, and notice a few things you hadn’t spotted before.

First of all, there are humans here as well, or at least things that look human. They’re outnumbered by things that are most certainly not human, but they’re not uncommon by any means. Most of them look nearly as pale as the chauffeur from earlier, though it’s hard to tell in the blueish light of the windows and the flickering shadows cast by braziers and torches. They seem right at home with the various monsters and aberrations sitting beside them, most of them deep in somber conversation. There’s little laugher, and what you do hear stands out like a flashlight at midnight, clear and bell-like.

Farther along the hall, towards the throne, you notice a number of small side-doors, the same color as the wall around them and only noticeable because of the torches placed on either side. You’d guess they’re for meetings or the like, but who can tell with the fae? Oberon, still sitting on his throne, seems to be in deep conversation with the smaller man on his left. The leader of the Unseelie Court seems to be shaking his head slowly, while his partner in conversation nods adamantly. You wonder what they’re talking about, but decide not to dwell on it. Whatever politics Oberon schemes over seem like a bit much to deal with right now.

Your eyes almost gloss over the door to Oberon’s right, furthest back against the wall, but something catches your eye. A flicker of familiar pale blue light. Confused, you look beside you, and Cat is floating there as per usual, grooming himself. He catches your eye and looks at you quizzically, his face affuse with that same pale blue glow.

You whip back towards the room and catch sight of it again, the light that you’re sure is a shade. You take a few hesitant steps forward, squinting as you try to make out its outline. Does this mean there’s another necromancer here? Titania did say necromancers tended to do better at the Unseelie Court, but Argus said they were super rare...aha! You get a better look at the shade for just a moment before it slowly turns and phases through the door.

It’s a skunk.

***

And on that note, we end for the night. I hope to see you all again tomorrow night at roughly the same time. Sleep well, and see you soon.

>>967455
Thanks for running!

I can run tonight, but is there interest? If it's only one or two people, I may take the night off, as much as I appreciate their participation.

>>969562
>>969562
I'm interested, but I'm also Cloud.

>>969562
Im in but seems to be only two of us. So take it off if you want to unless we get more people. I wish your quest was getting more people in it, it kinda bugs me.

>>969919
Such is the nature of /qst/
I just wish I knew why it's doing so poorly.

>>969980
Maybe starting too late for most people? I dunno, did pretty good at the beginning then just seemed like you didnt post for a bit and now that whole crowd is gone or something. It's like people don't even look in the Catalog.

>>970049
Take a break for thanksgiving and that's what you get.
Oh well. If this quest dies it just means I'll get to try out my other ideas. Or maybe I'll stop torturing myself. Who knows?

>>970094
I don't know if i should tell this, because i really don't want to sound entitled.
Here i go anyway. The problem wasn't the hiatus in itself. It was that you left without a word.
And it wasnt until Skelebro pieced together that the reason of your absence was Thanksgiving, like a week later, then it all made sense.
From my point of view, the QM who stopped running his previous quest due to health reasons (Was it that? I think that's what i was told) has stopped running for a while, without saying anything, not even to the "co-QM" of sorts. I was very concerned about your well-being, but i also felt that it wasn't my place to pry.
When i see a QM dispappear like that i assume they decided to stop running, or they are dealing with bigger problems than running a game for a bunch of randos. And that's fine.

At the risk of sounding like a prick, i think you can see how that might have scared away the players who were ambivalent to the quest.

There is also the matter of this being /qst/, yes. You DO have some regulars, but we all live across the globe and being on time for each session is kind of hard if we don't know with anticipation when you are going to run. But we can't reasonably ask you to make a schedule and dilligently stick with it, that's unfair to you. You have shit to do IRL, just like we do.
This becomes a glaring issue when new people can't find the quest and get invested because that is not a common occurence in this board.

Don't take this as me calling you out or something. this is just my obvservation on why this quest struggles with having a playerbase often

>>970094
Maybe get a twitter or something for QMing stuff, I know there is a big group of /qst/ QM's on twitter, that way you can tweet out when a new thread or run is starting and people can adjust their schedules or activities accordingly.

It seems to help a lot of QM's with attendance issues, except Ouro... but the attendance issue there was HIS attendance issue :p .

>>970366
This is what the Discord server is for.

Starting a run somewhere from 7-7:30pm EST this evening, roughly 6 hours from now.

>>979304
Getting fucking hyped son!

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We must prepare the offerings!

Starting in 30 min

I am so sorry to say this, and I hate to cancel when people have (justly) pointed out my occasional unreliability, but last minute things have conspired to make running tonight impossible.
My deepest apologies to all of you. Goodnight.

Alright, will actually be running tonight, starting at 7:30pm EST. Thank you for your patience.
Let it be known that I take full credit for the recent increase in the number of threads involving necromancy, due to my upholding of traditional skeltal values. [spoilers]Jk not really but it is a funny coincidence [/spoiler]

bamp for lulz