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- 2019/08/15 02:53:29 - Morthif says, "Paying for a few moments time of a disgruntled ex Dawnblade member."
- 2019/08/15 03:04:54 - Judyth says, "Seeking lovely woman to date a wonderful old man. Monogamy required."
- 2019/08/15 03:06:15 - Ginovianna says, "Selling rope to end desperation. Tells only. Selling in bulk."
- 2019/08/15 03:06:23 - Arin says, "Providing therapy services for only 50 gold a tell."
- 2019/08/15 03:09:13 - Kairula says, "Selling arsenic tea for if you're getting sick of your therapist."
Following that, I was messaged and actually paid for therapy: could this be a new chapter in Arin's life?
Kroac told You: How much for an emotional back rub!
You told Kroac: More than you can pay, whatever you can pay.
You told Kroac: What makes you feel like you need a back rub?
You told Kroac: Are you not receiving enough physical affection in your life?
Kroac told You: I think you might be right on the dot, I am an old and lonely grook, have been for my entire life.
You told Kroac: Have you attempted to reach out to members of your city and been rebuffed in the past? That can become disheartening.
You told Kroac: Not to fear, everyone is able to find the companionship they need, even when it feels hopeless sometimes.
You told Kroac: My professional advice is to not begin conversations by asking about backrubs, but by saying: "Hello, how are you today?"
Kroac told You: I feel that is very poor advice! I always open my conversations with backrubs, sometimes I even offer them without asking.
You told Kroac: Alas, if your mind is not amenable to my professional advice, I must close the doors of my practice to you lest my wisdom fall on deaf ears.
Kroac told You: I suppose that is the way it must be, perhaps we'll try another session in the future when I am more amendable to change.
You told Kroac: That will be 250 gold, as I did not charge you for the tells with no advice. Do return to me if you find yourself desirous of a change, for until then I can do nothing for you.
Kroac told You: I'll collect on that back rub in the future one day, perhaps not this month, and perhaps not the next. Perhaps not in fifty years, but maybe in one hundred! Consider this advance pay.
You told Kroac: Your generosity has certainly paid for future sessions. Though my legendary backrubs may not be on the table, we can talk about why you feel you need them.
You'll see the private conversations that went on between the factions in between the actual public interactions. I encourage the players in particular to read it, it can be quite funny to see how people interpreted what you did.
Act I and II: https://pastebin.com/e551BsHC
(you can try to guess who the murderer was here)
Act III: https://pastebin.com/vTgCpLR5
(the answer and the aftermath)
Thanks so much to @Frances V. Le'Yuet for doing most of the cleaning up and to everyone who provided me with logs!
Not pictured: my own POV with multiple channels all going at the same time haha.
Stories by Jurixe and Stories by Jurixe 2
The ghost of a smile flit across Shirszae's lips as she steps back to her end of the theater. "...For the thrill of battle," she calls out at the same time she frees her bastard sword from a mercurial crystalline baldric of the Maw. Giving it an experimental swing, she squares off, then breaks into a run straight at you, lifting the blade at the very last moment in a heavy overhead swing.
Calmly stripping from her armour, Pyori tosses the heavy covering into her corner of the theater. Brow lifting at the spoken words, she turns just in time to avoid Shirszae's swing, disappearing through the shadows and appearing a few feet away once more. Glowering at the Atavian woman, Pyori's lips twist up into a smirk as she manifests a large scythe into both hands, "And the rush of the challenge," she solemnly speaks.
Shirszae snorts as you disappear into the shadows, her sword slashing instead at empty air. Undeterred, the Atavian smirks back at you, the tip of the blade momentarily resting against the floor as the Atavian's hand trace the runes etched deep into the carmine metal. With a sudden flush of icy power, the sword glows blue, the Atavian leveling the tip in your direction as a burst of hail materializes from thin air speeding to you.
Free of the hefty armour that was covering her, Pyori was free to move more gracefully across the battlefield. Ever holding Shirszae's gaze, the Troll studies her with an almost predatory expression etched in her features. Attempting to close the distance between the two, Pyori advances and cleanly deflects the barrage of hail fired at her, sending chunks of ice spurting off in every direction and snidely remarks, "Surely that's not the best you've got, Warbringer."
"...Its not like I've see you do much better, Eldritch Oracle," Shirszae taunts in turn, "...Maybe that sassy mouth of yours is really your greatest asset after all," says as her black wings unfurl. Speeding towards you again, the Atavian glides off the ground at the very last moment, reversing the grip on her sword and aiming the heavy snowblossom pommel straight at your midsection.
Almost tauntingly, Pyori pokes the tip of her tongue out, licking across her teeth as she stares over Shirszae. Stepping into the onslaught this time, the Troll woman attempted a daring swing towards Shirszae's head, missing by a hair before being driven back by the force of the pommel hit. Wincing slightly and taking a step back, she nonetheless stood her ground with that ever-present smirking expression.
Taken a little off-balance by your hardiness and the close call of the scythe swing, Shirszae leaps back out of immediate reach in a flurry of beating wings and black feathers. Lifting her sword in a proper two-handed grip, she studies you assessingly, though at times she almost seems to be merely admiring your figure.
Glancing over Shirszae with a more keen awareness, Pyori moved in an almost flinching sort of manner with the hefting of the sword, springing backwards a few feet to reassess her position. "Not a fan of spontaneous beheadings, Shirs?" she sweetly asked, grin plastered across her features as she once more stabilised herself with scythe in both hands at the ready.
[[ Bonus interactions from the fox observer: A bat-eared fox snorts haughtily, his beady eyes squinting around in disapproval. ]]
[[ We decided here to make 'ties' award each other a point. Since we kept getting them.]]
"...I know first-hand how nasty those scythes can be," Shirszae calls out in return. Weariness evident in every subtle shift of her body, the Atavian doesn't immediately drive back at you. Instead, she scratches five rough runes upon the stone floor, painting them red with a twist of her wrist upon the edge of her blade. At once the runes glow, a sudden harsh keening filling the air as they float like screaming bolts upon the air, launching themselves at you.
Practically showing off, Pyori moved with a dancer-like grace as she once more closed the distance to Shirszae. Scythe gleaming with each impact upon the blade, she twirled the hefty weapon to cut each of those bolts from the air, avoiding them with fluid twists and turns. "Tired, dear?" she asks with a playful smile before outstretching the scythe blade-first towards Shirszae, taunting further action.
Shirszae rolls her eye at you, her humour momentarily running out along her patience as she delivers a sudden, forceful strike at the shadowy shaft of your scythe, pushing it away, using the momentum of the blow to spin the lower half of her body and aim a kick right at your face.
[[ Wyvern happy to see offense! -> A steel-plated wyvern tosses its head back and forth, crimson eyes alight with a lust for action. ]]
Eyes gleaming mischievously, Pyori is startled briefly as the force of that swing causes her scythe to dissipate into thin air, the shock short-lived as she's forced to stumble against the strike from Shirszae's boots. Narrowing her gaze, she spins around her Atavian foe, utilising the momentum to strike down with a savage heelkick against the back of Shirszae's knees.
Caught completely off-guard, Shirszae falls onto her butt with a sharp cry, her sword falling with a dull thud from her hands and cleaving down into the ground. Unbalanced and perhaps a little spooked, the Atavian rolls hastily away before springing back onto her feet, her hands empty save for a clumsily held knife as she attempt to adopt a combat stance.
Raising a hand, Pyori balls her fist in front of her face and, within moments, a shadowy dagger coalesces into view in her grip. Lips curl into a wicked smile as she stares across the theater at Shirszae, leaning forwards slightly as her expression only grows more eerie. Not quite to the degree of Tsol'teth before her, she crossed the distance with nonetheless blinding quickness and knocked the flimsy weapon from Shirszae's grip, the tip of her dagger rising to just barely break skin at her foe's throat as she uttered one simple word: "Yield."
Shirszae scowls at you, hands balling into fists, her body growing rigid, tensed as if moments before an attack. Then all at once she sighs, fists uncurled as she raises her hands in a well-known gesture of surrender. "...Aye, I yield. You win, Miss Sassy-Mouth," she says, only the barest hint of humour detectable on her voice.
(Final score: 3-2 in my favour. Cutting out sappy emotes after this, given Pyori and Shirszae's closeness).
Haven't written stuff like this in forever, so pretty rusty. Not my finest work, but it was better than I expected it to go. Practice practice.
If you see any flaws in the system or have suggestions on how it can be improved I'm always up to hear them, too.
Stories by Jurixe and Stories by Jurixe 2
And you won't understand the cause of your grief...
...But you'll always follow the voices beneath.