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/*Twine Tut Variables */
<<set $cycle to "Unknown">>
<<set $type to "I'm checking out for my lunch break.">>
/*Character Variables*/
<<set $name to "Willow">>
<<set $nameset to false>>
<<set $hair to "Unknown">>
<<set $pctitle to "Adventurer">>
<<set $ElementalPower to "Fire">>
<<set $pronoun to "Unknown">>
/*Story Variables */
/*Chapter 1 */
<<set $purse = 0>> (*no quotation marks needed here! numerical values also use mathematical operators)
<<set $cogdiscomfort = 0>>
<<set $crowds = "Unknown">>
/*Ch1 Qilen's Route */
<<set $thief to false>> (*boolean values are also written without quotation marks)
<<set $thiefthought = 0>>
<<set $unpracticedthief to false>>
<<set $p10Thief1 = 0>>
<<set $Qflirt = 0>>
<<set $qproposal = 0>>
<<set $ghostbelieve = "Unknown">>
/*Ch1 Izre's Route */
<<set $guild to false>>
<<set $Guildfight to 0>>
<<set $Iflirt = 0>>
<<set $imeal = "Unknown">>
<<set $guildstatus = "Unknown">>
<<set $movitve = "Unknown">> /*treasure, ghosts, or research */
/*Ch2 Hotel */
<<set $hotel to "Unknown">>
<<set $proposalthought to "Unknown">>
/*Ch2 Izre's Route */
<<set $clothes = "Unknown">>
<<set $izmeh = 0>>
<<set $cont to false>> /* refers to whether or not the pc can contain corruption magic */
<<set $sentmag to false>>
<<set $wings to false>>
/*Ch3 */
<<set $okreply = "Unknown">>
<<set $Tellitems to false>>
<<set $findopinion = 0>>
<<set $teampref = "Unknown">>
<<set $bite = "PC">>
<<set $holdcorruption to false>>
<<set $vessel = "Unknown">>
<<set $coglock = "Unknown">>
<<set $haunted = false>>
<<set $conrespond = "Unknown">>
<<set $darkmagic = false>>
<<set $Qchatq = 0>>//You arrive in the Eventide Ring, one of many who seek their fame and fortune in the notorious firefalls-- a yearly meteor shower of ancient, dead starships packed to the brim with treasure... and ghosts. But the ruins of the Ring aren’t keen to give up their mysteries. Every step you take deeper into the crumbling towers makes you more and more certain that you’re not alone-- and that the watching eyes aren't content to just watch.//
Welcome to PaperDemon Art RPG's first Campaign event!
You will play through the Eventide Ring's Campaign, making choices that impact the plot and characters as you go. After each chapter, you will be offered a chance to draw or write an original piece of art set during the chapter. You can submit this piece for in-game rewards after you register your character to play in PaperDemon's Art RPG. The more chapters and original works you complete, the more rewards you will earn-- including a prize exclusive to this campaign's portal.
If you are returning to the game for a new chapter, you should be able to load up your last save and play from where you last left off.
[[I know how Twine games work. Take me to the start of the story!|StoryIntro]]
[[Jump directly to Chapter 2|Ch2testing]]
[[Jump directly to Chapter 3|Ch3Start]]
[[Show me the game tutorial.|twinetut]]
[[What's an Art RPG?|artrpg1]]
[[I just want a summary of the story so I don't have to read the whole thing.|summary]]This game has a handful of functions that allow you to interact with the story.
The Saves button on the menu bar allows you to save your progress. We encourage you to save when you step away from the game or when you'd like to be able to quickly go back to a certain page.
''Cycling Links'' allow you to chose from an array of options without navigating away from the page. In the context of this game, the looping cycling links will allow you to click through different options until you choose the one you like. This option will be locked in when you click onto the next page.
<<cycle "$cycle" autoselect>>
<<option "This is what a cycling link looks like">>
<<option "You can click for more options">>
<<option "Some character attributes can be set with cycling links">>
<<option "I'm about to go on lunch break so that's it for this loop.">>
<</cycle>>
Occasionally, you will be given the option to input text. Type your answer in the text box, and then hit enter to be taken to the next page.
<<textbox "$type" "Give me your best pun." "twinetut2">>
Press enter to go to confirm your typed entry, or click on the link below to go to the next page.
[[Submit name.|twinetut2]]Good work. Thanks. I'll review your submission within 3-5 business days. What I'm planning to do with it, however, is for me to know and you to find out when you least expect it.
The last type of interaction you'll encounter within the game are the choices buttons. You've already clicked at least one to get here, so you're ahead of the game. They're at the bottom of the story pages and they let you choose how to react to the story. Clicking them progresses you to the next page.
[[I have no idea what you're talking about.|twinetut3]]
[[What's an Art RPG?|artrpg1]]
[[I understand! Take me to the story!|StoryIntro]]
[[I just want a summary of the story so I don't have to read the whole thing.|summary]]I'm sure you'll figure it out. You're smarter than you look.
[[Take me to the story!|StoryIntro]]
[[I just want a summary of the story so I don't have to read the whole thing.|summary]]
[[What's an Art RPG?|artrpg1]]What is an Art RPG?
Art RPGs are games where you progress by creating original pieces of art and writing for your own characters. Your creative work earns you levels, loot, or other prizes. Art RPGs are heavily community based, encourage collaborative creation, and help motivate creators to build stories and creative skills. There are a variety of games with a variety of different challenges across different websites online. Paperdemon.com hosts several Art RPGs and also runs its own.
How do I play the Art RPG part of this campaign?
Sign up for the Art RPG by creating an account on Paperdemon.com. Register your character via the challenges listed in the Inn. You will then be able to earn game rewards by playing through this campaign challenge and completing the art prompts. You'll also be able to participate in other types of challenges, as well as be able to gain rewards by simply drawing or writing about your characters on your own.
[[I'd like to see how to register my character.|https://www.paperdemon.com/app/news/article/5244/art-writing-challenge-create-a-character]]
[[I'd like to join the Discord so I can ask more questions.|https://discord.com/invite/PJTTtzC]]
[[Show me the game tutorial.|twinetut]]
[[I know how Twine games work. Take me to the story!|StoryIntro]]
[[I just want a summary of the story so I don't have to read the whole thing.|summary]]//Chapter 1//
You arrive on the Eventide Ring to a clammoring port city full of would-be treasure hunters. While out in the city, you pick up an odd trinket-- a cog that seems somehow connected to your elemental magic. You almost immediately lose it again when your purse is stolen from you by a pickpocket.
If you choose to turn to thievery yourself, an incredible stroke of fortune has you finding the pickpocket who took your things. His name is Qilen, and he returns your things without much fuss. He is impressed that you managed to track him down, and offers to work a job with you. His job is following an off the grid treasure map to an unknown section of the firefall where you'll likely find treasure without having to compete with the teams who follow the official maps.
If you choose to return to the adventurers guild, you encounter Izre as she defends a human who slighted an imperious elf. Their fight is broken up by the guildmaster, and Izre offers you a job, telling you that she was impressed with how you handled yourself during the fight. She wants to investigate older ruins beyond the city, and needs assistance to fend off any firefall teams who might thwart her research.
After you've met both Izre and Qilen, you retire to a hotel for the night.
//Chapter 2//
A nightmare about a falling tower and a mysterious figure made of magic wakes you from your rest. You're holding the cog when you wake, and you don't remember picking it up before you went to sleep.
You choose whether to join Izre or Qilen, and spend some time chatting with your companion of choice on the road to learn more about them.
If you choose to join Izre, you enter an abandoned city and find yourself in a game of cat and mouse with a whirlwind storm. You discover that the storm is in pursuit of a small, foxlike construct, and make to intercept it. You and Izre flee from the storm and enter a spire just behind the construct, and the storm chases you up to the highest levels before you're forced to jump. With a clever application of magic, Izre manages to dissipate the magical storm and break your fall-- just as the spire comes down on you. You're saved by Qilen's earth magic shielding you from the falling tower.
If you choose to join Qilen, you skirt around the edges of an abandoned city until you come across a thieving little fox construct. You follow it into the city in hopes of finding its hoard of treasure. Just when you've found its nest in a tall spire, a magical storm blasts through the tower and forces you to jump. Izre appears and with a clever application of magic, she manages to dissipate the magical storm and break your fall-- just as the spire comes down on you. You're saved by Qilen's earth magic shielding you from the falling tower.
//Chapter 3//
You're caught in another vision that leads you halfway out of the city without realizing it. After, you travel with Izre and Qilen to the site of the old firefall. It's nothing but an empty field. Disappointed, you all start to settle in to rest and restart your journey in the morning. In doing so, you stumble on a cloaking shield of magic that hides the half destroyed ship you were looking for.
You investigate the structure, finding a sealed room and a fair amount of loot. You can join Izre or Qilen as they explore. Qilen accidentally unseals a pack of corrupted sundogs, which immediately start hunting you. The sundogs are barely fragments of skeletons, held together by the corruption magic. You flee and fight and flee again, led by another vision back to the sealed room. One of the corrupted sundogs bites either Izre or Qilen.
You unlock the door with the cog and the three of you hide inside what appears to be an armory. There's a deactivated construct there, fully intact besides a missing gauntlet. You discuss what to do for a while, and then either you or Izre attaches the gauntlet to the construct, waking it. It attempts to drain the magical energy of everyone in the room to power itself. You tell your bitten companion to give it their injury to drain the corruption magic from it. They comply, and the construct devours the corruption as well as some of their own magic. The seal on the door broke when the construct ate that magic too, letting the corruption break through. The construct consumes that magic and the power starts flooding into the ship. You and your companions flee. Once you're outside the ship, the construct's power melts it, and the construct breaks free of the ship to vanish into the darkness.
You have a chance to discuss some of your plans going forwards with your companions, and the story ends.
[[What does Izre look like?|Izdesc]]
[[What does Qilen look like?|Qidesc]]
[[I'd like to read the story in full.|StoryIntro]]
[[Take me to the end of the chapter.|Ch1Interlude]]Izre (Is-ray) is a demon with spiraling horns and wings. She's tall and buff and wears a sleeveless shirt. She has red skin speckled with dragon scales and yellow eyes with catlike pupils. She’s a compassionate and thoughtful scholar, and is always ready to learn something new.
[[What does Qilen look like?|Qidesc]]
[[I'd like to read the story in full.|StoryIntro]]
[[Take me to the end of the chapter.|Ch1Interlude]]Qilen (Kee-len) is an elf with shaggy brown hair and green eyes. His skin is pale. He wears a sage green coat with gold leather trim. He has fancy golden rings that have decorative chains that attach up to the gold bangles he wears on his wrists. He's mischievous and clever.
[[What does Izre look like?|Izdesc]]
[[I'd like to read the story in full.|StoryIntro]]
[[Take me to the end of the chapter.|Ch1Interlude]]The eternal twilight haze of the Eventide Ring's sky filters down through the narrow gaps between the city's tall, jagged buildings. Magelights line the street, their blue-white glow counteracting the worst of the sickly warm color of the sky. Travelers and citizens alike bustle through the streets. The press of bodies is <<cycle "$crowds" autoselect>>
<<option "distracting">>
<<option "overwhelming">>
<<option "invigorating">>
<</cycle>>.
The yearly firefall brought in people from across the 'verse, hoping to find some treasure or other as the planet's orbit intersected with the massive, ghostly fleet of dead ships lost during the cataclysm. The local population tolerated the influx of adventurers in exchange for their efforts during the firefall. The Eventide Ring citizens considered the firefall debris contaminated. Cataclysm magic still clung to the edges of some of the ancient ships-- as well as the ruined cities beyond the fringes of civilization on the Ring. The more of it that was taken off planet, the better.
You were considering taking yourself off planet at this point.
The hairy, harried clerk who had checked you in on arrival had //begged// you to wait a few hours before trying to get into the guild headquarters. One look at the line winding its way out of the building had you readily agreeing. His silky golden ears had drooped in relief, whiskers twitching as he turned next new arrival.
[[You should have waited in line.|StoryIntro2]]You'd managed to completely misunderstand a set of directions to downtown, and ended up in the pop-up district where firefall expeditions bartered, sold, and argued over their finds. Even though the barest edges of the meteor storm had just touched down on-planet barely a day ago, the square had been teeming with chaos.
You had turned right back around after an overeager demon had tried to get you to purchase something off of her table full of twisted, burned scrap metal.
The only scrap metal you acquired was an odd little cog that stuck itself in your boot on your way out of the square. You hadn't the foggiest idea where it had come from-- returning it to its owner would be an impossible task. There was something about it, anyhow. Something that tugged oddly at the elemental magic nestled in your core. You'd decided to investigate it later and tucked it into your coinpurse.
And //that// had been the last time you saw your coinpurse.
[[-Whoever had snatched it probably needed those mothballs more than you.|P2][$purse = 1]]
[[-They might as well have taken a literal arm and a leg.|P2][$purse = 2]]
[[-Your smug satisfaction that they'd stolen the decoy purse evaporated when you realized they'd also taken the real one.|P2][$purse = 3]]<<if $purse == 1>>
Whoever had gone through the effort of stealing your sad, neglected coin purse probably needed it more than you did. What did you know, maybe lint was a precious currency somewhere out there in the 'verse.
<<elseif $purse == 2>>
Everything you had, gone in an instant. You'd be less wounded if they'd taken your actual limbs with them.
<<elseif $purse == 3>>
You had //planned// for this. You were careful and kept your coins in two separate locations just in case a particularly wily thief slipped past your defenses. And yet, here you were. And here your purse wasn't.
<</if>>
You remember being bumped into by an elf-- unremarkable in the crowd beyond the way your stomach had swooped oddly afterwards. Your magic had reacted, but not enough to catch your attention until it was too late and the elf was lost in the crowd.
Well. For better or for worse, the Eventide Ring is one of the better places to portal into when you're short on cash. Legal and less than legal jobs are a dime a dozen during the firefall.
You run your hand over your <<cycle "$hair" autoselect>>
<<option "buzzed hair">>
<<option "short hair">>
<<option "shoulder length hair">>
<<option "long hair">>
<<option "head">>
<</cycle>> and sigh. Portalling is no simple magic, and no matter how practiced you are it always takes a lot out of you. Being unconscious sounds really great right now.
You need money for a room.
[[-You're no slouch at thieving yourself-- time to put those skills to work.|p3Thief][$thief = true]] /*Qilen intro */
[[-The adventurer's guild might be willing to give you an advance on a job. Time to find out.|p3Guild][$guild = true]] /*Izre intro */You shake out your hands, ducking your head as you swerve off into a sidestreet.
When you'd first portaled in, the guard bent your ear about local attractions. Where to get the best local cuisine-- including an apparently iconic sparking rainbow noodle dish-- where the best theater performances were, and where to get souvenirs without being completely ripped off. You'd left the portal gate with your ear very bent, and your brain teeming with more information than you could have possibly been expected to process.
But you did know where the tourist district was.
//Show me a tourist and I'll show you their wallet-- wait, what wallet? Nothing to see here.//
[[-You feel a twinge of guilt over choosing to pass on your bad luck.|p4Thief][$thiefthought = 1]]
[[-You've got to do what you've got to do. No use beating yourself up over it.|p4Thief][$thiefthought = 2]]
[[-In the past, you've only ever stolen from those who wouldn't miss it. It's never kept you up at night.|p4Thief][$thiefthought = 3]]
[[-You've never felt guilty about stealing and you aren't about to start now.|p4Thief][$thiefthought = 4]]<<if $thiefthought == 1>>
It'd be fine, right? After all, it's not like anyone came to Eventide Ring expecting their pockets to be safe. Local law enforcement could never keep up with the influx of ne'er-do-wells who scrambled to take advantage of the more naive treasure hunters.
<<elseif $thiefthought == 2>>
Things happened. Least you could do is balance the scales a bit. An eye for an eye so to speak.
<<elseif $thiefthought == 3>>
If anyone deserved to be stolen from, it was people who stuffed their pockets with gold while people went hungry in the streets. If you picked the right target, you might as well be doing a public service. A little bit of wealth redistribution.
<<elseif $thiefthought == 4>>
You knew better than to overthink your decision. It'd be far too late anyway-- it was a decision you'd weighed and chosen the same on many times before.
<</if>>
You weave through the streets like a penniless shark among a shoal of tourist fish. Most are adventurers, identifiable by their wild array of clothing-- or lack of clothing. Scavengers who had dropped into town to seek their fortune in the firefall. Or guardians, protectors who sought to watch the backs of firefall expeditions.
The locals are just as easy to pick out, many of them cloaked in the odd, light iridescent brown fabrics characteristic of the planet. Most are elves, but there's a handful of humans scattered among them. You know better than to target them-- their clothing is rather pointedly designed to discourage petty thievery.
The streets open up before you into a wide town square bracketed on each end with towers that reach up into the clouds.
[[You shiver with tense anticipation.|p5Thief]]
[[You're cooler than the iced drink you're going to buy with your spoils.|p5Thief]]
[[It's just a job. No more notable than your morning routine. Albeit with a little more "might get arrested" tacked on.|p5Thief]]Dense pockets of people are scattered around the square, many of them crowded around street performers and novelty game stalls. The rim of the square is populated with booths featuring a wide selection of foods both local and interplanetary. The rich scents waft through the air like blazing neon arrows pointing back to their sources.
You're jostled on all sides as you make your way through the crowds. Perfect cover for bumping into someone and lifting a purse. No wonder you'd missed the thief who had snatched yours. It was a wonder anyone managed to keep money in this city.
A tall, thin demon slinks by, draped with gold edged robes. The robes have slits down the backs of their arms where their spines peek out, and their watchful eyes follow you as you pass by. You move on, passing by them to brush up against a stout, heavily armored man. The second your fingers brush his purse you pull them back-- unlike its owner, it was incredibly lightweight. Not worth the risk.
You slip into the next group of people. The crowd rings a human who masterfully wields the element of fire. Her fingers dance up and down in synch with the snapping flame as she tells a story in a language you recognize but can't place. As she draws up her arms to conduct the finale of her tale in images of fire, you spot a target.
An elf with an excess of pockets in his coat, and rich gold rings and chains and bangles on his fingers and wrists.
[[You almost feel bad for him-- He clearly has no idea what he's got into.|p5Thief2]]
[[He's not going to miss a pouch of gold while wearing that much of it on his hands.|p5Thief2]]
[[The fool must be new here.|p5Thief2]]You approach him slowly, trying to make it look like you're paying attention to the human storyteller as she answers questions and accepts praise from the crowd.
You manage to work your way behind him.
[[-You know how to do this.|p5Thief3]]
[[-You're sure it won't be that hard, right?|p5Thief3][$unpracticedthief = true]]You dip your fingers into the pocket and come up with exactly what you were looking for.
<<if $unpracticedthief == true>>
The elf freezes for a heartbeat, then half turns to shoot you a lazy grin. He reaches for your hand--
[[Yank your hand away and run.|p6Thief]]
<</if>>
<<if $unpracticedthief == false>>
[[Slip off into the crowd.|p6Thief]]
<</if>>You make for a narrow street barely visible between two offset restaurants. You measure your pace carefully to moderate it down to 'I'm urgently searching for a bathroom' instead of 'I am fleeing the scene of a crime.'
Your insides buzz with tension. Every bump and brush from a stranger ratchets up the tightness in your chest. Your senses are in overdrive waiting for a shout or a hand to fall on your shoulder.
It never comes.
You slip between the two buildings, slowing your pace again as you make your way down the alley. You don't stop until you're several streets away from the busy plaza. You take a turn at random and find yourself in a more residential area, the towers far shorter than those downtown.
Subtly checking over your shoulder, you can't catch any sign that you've been followed.
[[You laugh breathlessly to yourself.|p7Thief]]
[[You breathe a sigh of relief.|p7Thief]]
[[You don't let down your guard. This isn't over.|p7Thief]]Veering off to the side of the street, you tug the purloined purse from your pocket.
It's... definitely //your// purse. The exact one that had been stolen from you just hours ago.
You snort with disbelief as you open it-- same coins, same currency. Minus a few coins, actually, it seems your thief had helped themself to a purchase or two before you'd stolen it back. And minus the little cog trinket.
Ah well, you had enough to get yourself food and lodging for tonight.
[[I do believe you may have something of mine, a voice says|p8Thief]]"I do believe you may have something of mine."
You whip around to see the elf from the square-- the one who you'd lifted your purse off of. <<if $guild == false>>
His shaggy brown hair is brushed haphazardly back from his sparkling green eyes. His skin is a pale, sunkissed gold. The sage colored coat he wears is lined with a rich leather of some sort, and you can feel the depth of the earth elemental magic that is woven into the construction of it. His long, narrow fingers are decked with elaborately twined golden rings that extend up towards his wrist, attached with golden chains to bangles that trail up his arms.
<</if>>
The smug look on his face tells you that he probably hasn't realized you're the person he stole the purse from in the first place.
How had he followed you? You hadn't seen the slightest trace of him as you'd navigated the back alleys away from the square. It was like the universe had sent him to personally ruin your day.
[[-No point in beating around the bush. You stole what was rightfully yours.|p9Thief1]]
[[-You're curious where he's going with this. Play ignorant.|p9Thief2]]
[[-You hadn't planned for this. Panic and run.|p9Thief3]]
[[-Wow he has... Really pretty eyes.|p9Thief4][$Qflirt = 1]]"You mean this?" You hold up the purse.
"Yes! Superb," the elf reaches out for it with a broad grin. "I must have dropped it, I'm sure. I appreciate you picking it--"
"This is mine," you snatch the purse away, tucking it back into a pocket near your belt. "It was stolen from me earlier today."
The smile freezes on his face.
[[-The thief must have dropped it, I'm sure. I appreciate you picking it up, you say, mirroring his own words.|p10Thief1][$QThiefReact = 1]]
[[-Scram and I'll forget to report this, you growl.|p10Thief1][$QThiefReact = 2]]
[[-Thanks for letting me get a good look at you for the report I'll be making, you say.|p10Thief1][$QThiefReact = 3]]<<if $QThiefReact == 1>>
"The thief must have dropped it, I'm sure. I appreciate you picking it up," you say.
The brilliant smile on his face fades out and he draws back a touch, clearing his throat. "Well. So you say, that is."
You leave him hanging for a long moment. His bold posture shifts down. Tighter. More predatory. He eyes you with a new sort of look, pursing his lips. "I do imagine you're delighted to have all of your things back."
He's evaluating you. Waiting for something.
<<elseif $QThiefReact == 2>>
"Scram and I'll forget to report this," you growl out, turning your shoulder hard and striding purposefully away. Within seconds you realize you're walking in the opposite direction you need to go to find lodging. But you're not about to correct that mistake in front of this smug fool.
"I do imagine you're delighted to have //all// of your things back," he says pointedly. From right behind you. You whirl around and you're standing toe to toe with him. His lazy grin is belied by his sharp eyes as he waits for a response.
<<elseif $QThiefReact == 3>>
"Thanks for letting me get a good look at you for the report I'll be making," you say lightly, pointedly eyeing him up and down. He's a memorable character in and of himself, but amongst the influx of travellers, you highly doubt any law enforcement would be able to locate him.
He preens at your inspection, entirely unconcerned. You don't have to ask to know that he already knows how any report will inevitably go.
As you turn away, he says "I do imagine you're delighted to have all of your things back."
<</if>>
//All// of your things.
"I would be if //all of my things// were still in here," you shoot back.
His grin returns in full force. "Well, ah, I'm sure I don't have coin to make up for whatever was lost, but I do have this."
[[He holds up the odd, magic-soaked cog you'd picked up earlier.|CogDraw]]"Oh really?" you ask, turning to face him. "What might that be?"
"That delightful little purse you're holding!" The elf reaches out his hand with a flourish. The decorative chains chime high and light with the motion.
You make a point of looking around as if to check to see if he's speaking to someone else. "You must have made a mistake, this is //my// purse. I lost it earlier."
"Well in that case," the elf's smile narrows and his eyes glint dangerously. "You must be rather delighted to have //all// of your things back."
"I would be if //all of my things// were still in here," you shoot back.
His grin returns in full force. "Well, ah, I'm sure I don't have coin to make up for whatever was lost, but I do have this."
[[He holds up the odd, magic-soaked cog you'd picked up earlier.|CogDraw]]Your brain goes completely blank.
You bolt.
You make it a few steps before the cobblestones under your feet slip oddly sideways, sending you tumbling to the ground. You're back on your feet in an instant, whipping around to face the elf.
His steps are slow and measured, his expression smug. "If you wouldn't mind, I'll have my purse back now."
[[I- but this- this is my purse.|p9Thief32]]
[[This is my purse! It was stolen from me earlier today.|p9Thief32]]
[[You're a damned thief-- this is mine.|p9Thief32]]"Oh really?" the elf purrs, coming to a halt just a breath away from you. He leans in. "Then you wouldn't mind describing to me the contents of the purse when you lost it, I'm sure."
"It was certainly heavier when I had it," you mutter. "There was a cog in it. Just a little nonsense trinket."
His grin returns in full force. "Well, ah, I'm sure I don't have coin to make up for whatever was lost, but I do have this."
[[He holds up the odd, magic-soaked cog you'd picked up earlier.|CogDraw]]//He has... gorgeous eyes.//
The gold and sage in his coat bring out the elf-bright green in his eyes in a way that makes your heart just kind of stop a little. His eyes narrow playfully and oh-- oh he's noticing you looking. Time to salvage this.
"H-- what?" you manage.
His laugh is as high and delicate as the gentle chimes from the decorative chains on his hands.
"The purse," he says, reaching out for it with a broad grin. "I must have dropped it, I'm sure. I appreciate you picking it--"
[[You mean this purse? you ask.|p9Thief1]]You feel the same draw from earlier, a disorienting tugging sensation in your magic. It feels like the core of you is being tugged in two separate directions-- towards the cog and out towards the distant ruins of the twilight ring. The sensation sends a crawling shiver up your spine.
A distant whisper that doesn't quite sound like words echoes sourcelessly around you.
Without thinking about it, you reach for the cog, stepping towards the well-dressed thief. Your fingertips brush the trinket and the shiver ripples into a full shudder. Your hand shakes as your elemental magic surges.
[[-A tongue of flame blazes across your shoulders.|QintroThief][$ElementalPower to "Fire"]]
[[-Frost crackles down your sleeves.|QintroThief][$ElementalPower to "Water"]]
[[-The cobblestones beneath your feet crack.|QintroThief][$ElementalPower to "Earth"]]
[[-A sharp gust of biting wind snaps by you.|QintroThief][$ElementalPower to "Sky"]]The elf draws back sharply, dropping the cog. You snatch it out of midair and hold it to your chest, breathing hard. You've never felt anything pull at your magic like that. It didn't feel... //good,// but it felt right. You can't believe you were about to leave without the cog. You need it.
You-- what?
Your breathing feels just as shaky as your hands.
"No need for theatrics," the elf laughs nervously, brushing his hands across the front of his coat, shaking out his fingers as if he'd been electrocuted. "I rather think you've got what you want then. Although--"
You're too wrongfooted to think of cutting him off or leaving before he continues.
"I could very much use someone of your skills," he says. "You managed to track me down through those crowds, and your magic seems formidable at the very least. The fact that you haven't attempted to kill me yet tells me we'd get along far better than most of the folks I've traveled with of late."
[[Use me for what, exactly? you ask.|QintroThief2]]"Use me for what, exactly?" You ask. The unsettling feeling is fading. Something still feels out of place, though, and something tells you that if you try to take a step away now you might not stay standing. Might as well hear him out while you catch your breath.
"Well you see, I--" the elf starts, then he gasps and slaps his hand over his mouth. "Oh dear wherever are my //manners?// My name is Qilen. And you, <<if $pctitle == "Unknown">> <<cycle "$pctitle" autoselect>>
<<option "traveler">>
<<option "adventurer">>
<<option "guardian">>
<</cycle>> <<else>> $pctitle<</if>>...?"
<<if $nameset == false>>
"My name is--"
<<textbox "$name" "Type name" "Qintro1">>
[[That's my name.|Qintro1]]
<<else>> "My name is <<print $name>>."
[[Next.|Qintro1]]
<</if>>"It's my pleasure to meet you, <<print $name>>," Qilen says with a shallow, flourishing bow. "I am... well I //was// a member of the adventurers guild. We've had some recent, ah, differences of opinion. They and I are on the outs at the moment. All that to say I can't quite ask them for assistance on my current, well, job. Though I would be interested in contracting your services should you be so inclined."
<<set $nameset = true>>
"This 'job' of yours, is it legal?" you ask. He is a thief. Might as well know what you're getting yourself into.
"It is! In fact, I doubt it would be at all out of your way. I'm simply one of the many who has come to the Eventide Ring for the firefall," the thief gestures delicately. "Although I'm not quite interested in the fresh fall. I've come into possession of a delightful little map that's been marked up with rather promising falls from last year."
"And why haven't these falls already been picked clean?"
Qilen's wink could fell one of the towers if he put his mind to it. And he's turned it on you.
[[-You're really not interested in him in that way at all.|Qintro2]]
[[-He'll have to do better than that to impress you.|Qintro2]]
[[-You can't lie, it makes your heart flutter a bit.|Qintro2][$Qflirt to $Qflirt + 1]]
[[-You are definitely blushing.|Qintro2][$Qflirt to $Qflirt + 1]]"Well, every firefall expedition has risks," Qilen says smoothly. <<if $Qflirt >= 1>> The edge of his mouth curls up into a satisfied smile and you //know// he noticed your reaction. <</if>> "Those foolish tall tales of hauntings are rather concentrated in the area-- nothing to worry about for those of us who don't believe that nonsense."
There are tales across the 'verse that talk about ghosts, but the Eventide Ring is one of the better known sources. After the cataclysm that had wiped out the majority of the population within days, there was more than enough reason to think restless ghosts prowled the ruined remnants of civilization across the planet.
The more notable rumors warned that those who ventured too deep into the ruins never returned.
And yet, year after year, adventurers flocked to try their luck during the firefall. The rumors weren't enough to stop the boldest of them, and the guild hadn't yet chosen to put up an alert about the planet. For all you knew, the rumors were just that-- rumors.
[[-You didn't believe in ghosts and spacer stories won't change that.|Qintro3][$ghostbelieve = "no"]]
[[-You've traveled enough to know that some things couldn't be explained. Maybe there are ghosts out there, maybe not.|Qintro3][$ghostbelieve = "maybe"]]
[[-You've seen too much to deny the existence of ghosts.|Qintro3][$ghostbelieve = "yes"]]"Well, how about it?" Qilen holds out his delicate hand, the gold chains chiming high with a melodic ring that spoke of their magical properties. "Would you like to brave the haunted ruins by my side, <<print $pctitle>>?"
The sun is low on the horizon behind him, as it always is on the twilight ring. The rays catch the gold trimmings on his clothing, and light his brown hair a firey orange. His smile is quieter now, something hopeful and edged with mischief.
He might be a thief-- and considering his standing with the guild, a criminal of unknown but serious caliber-- but you have a feeling that he's telling you the truth now.
[[-I'm not interested in working with you, you say.|Qintro4][$qproposal = 1]]
[[-I'll think about it, you hedge.|Qintro4][$qproposal = 2]]
[[-I'm in, you say.|Qintro4][$qproposal = 3]]<<if $qproposal == 1>>
"I'm not interested in working with you," you say, turning on your heel.
But not turning quite quick enough to miss the way Qilen's face falls. There's hurt there, just a bit of it, but it's real. You push away a twinge of guilt.
The elf was a criminal, and in poor standing with the guild. Any of his trouble could come down on your head should you decide to go with him. Besides, who's to say he didn't steal that map? There are probably people out there looking for it if it's valuable enough to mark down. More than a handful of people had been killed over firefall caches in the past.
It's better this way. Safer. Less trouble.
"If you change your mind, <<print $pctitle>>, I'l staying at the Wildstar Inn on the west side of town," Qilen calls after you.
<<elseif $qproposal == 2>>
"I'll think about it," you say slowly.
The elf was a criminal, or at least had no interest in clarifying otherwise. Any trouble he was in with the guild might come down on your head should you decide to go with him. Besides, who's to say he didn't steal that map as well? There are probably people out there looking for it if it's valuable enough to mark down.
Then again, if the map //did// lead to valuable firefall caches, you could make a lifetime worth of coin in one single job. That was the draw of the firefall, wasn't it? Billions of beings fleeing for their lives, taking their most treasured possessions with them...
You'll sleep on it.
"I appreciate your consideration, <<print $pctitle>>," Qilen cocks his head and gives you another bow. "Should you decide to take me up on my offer, you can find me at the Wildstar Inn on the west side of town. I'll be there until noon tomorrow."
<<elseif $qproposal == 3>>
"I'm in," you say. There are a countless reasons to turn on your heel and leave this shady, charismatic elf in the dust. But there's also the treasure at the end of the rainbow-- or map, in this case. If the firefall caches were truly as valuable as Qilen implied, you could make a lifetime worth of coin in a single job.
"Ah, superb! I'm certain we'll have a grand time," Qilen claps his hands, the gold chains chiming again. "I'm staying at the Wildstar Inn on the west side of town. I expect to depart around noon tomorrow, find me there and then and we'll make each other rich."
<</if>>
<<if $guild == true>>
[[You go your separate ways.|Hotel1]]
<<else>>
[[You go your separate ways.|p2Guild]]
<</if>>With your money (mostly) returned, you can rent a place and get some rest. You should, however, drop by the adventurers guild and check in on local information. Jobs, outgoing firefall teams, rules and regulations for your stay on the Eventide ring. You didn't //technically// have to go-- you'd been checked in when you portaled in-- but you're close enough to the guild that you can't quite justify leaving it for tomorrow.
[[-You never miss a chance to introduce yourself to the local guild.|p3Guild][$guildstatus = "good"]]
[[-Getting the lay of the land is worth the visit.|p3Guild][$guildstatus = "average"]]
[[-You're not in the best standing with the guild yourself. Better to keep up appearances and give them a courtesy visit.|p3Guild][$guildstatus = "poor"]]The adventurers guild had permanent facilities installed on nearly every open portal planet, and the Eventide Ring was no exception. The guild was a resource and safe haven for any registered adventurer, and often the first stop for many when portalling into a new location. You'd not started there this time yourself-- at the time you had plenty enough gold on hand to enjoy the sights and scents of the city.
Whether or not they're willing to give you a job is going to depend entirely on who is on staff and how much they're willing to put up with your face.
Some guildmasters ran their guilds like tyrannical corporations-- hiring and firing adventurers on a whim and prioritizing profits over performance. Fortunately, they were few and far between and adventurers were nothing if not an interplanetary gossip ring so word tended to get out sooner rather than later. You'd not heard anything about the Eventide Ring's guild, for better or for worse.
<<if $thief == true>>
[[-You make your way back towards the guild|p5Guild]]
<<else>>
[[-You never miss a chance to introduce yourself to the local guild.|p4Guild][$guildstatus = "good"]]
[[-Getting the lay of the land is worth the visit.|p4Guild][$guildstatus = "average"]]
[[-You're not in the best standing with the guild. Better to give a courtesy visit to keep up appearances.|p4Guild][$guildstatus = "poor"]]
<</if>>The crowds don't let up as you continue walking. Most are adventurers, identifiable by their wild array of clothing-- or lack of clothing. Scavengers who had dropped into town to seek their fortune in the firefall. Or guardians, protectors who sought to watch the backs of firefall expeditions.
The locals are just as easy to pick out, many of them cloaked in the odd, light iridescent brown fabrics characteristic of the planet. Many are elves, but there's a handful of humans and a rare representative of another species scattered among them.
The eternal twilight of the planet feels odd as the hours wind down. Some planets had far longer day-night cycles than others, but the Eventide Ring hadn't so much adapted to a new day-night cycle after the cataclysm as it had done away with it entirely. Few of the businesses you pass by indicate opening hours, most of them simply featuring an open or closed sign.
[[Finally, you arrive at the guild|p5Guild]]The lobby is //packed//. Nearly every adventurer present carries a weapon and a heavyweight travel bag. The line to the front desk is long and meandering, and you can't actually identify the point where it ends. It kind of just devolves into a large pile of adventurers sleeping in a sort of...
<<set $guild = true>>
Well, dogpile.
This is going to take a while.
You pick your way through the lobby and awkwardly stand nearby where you think the line is. A pair of near identical humans chatter excitedly just ahead of you, exchanging stories about firefalls they'd worked years prior.
[[There's nothing to do but wait and listen.|p6Guild]]"It sounds like the main fall is going to be on the dark side of the planet-- a ways west from the city," one of them says, tapping at a datapad. The thing buzzes with fire and sky magic, and you can feel the spark of electricity from inside it. The display ripples through text and images like crackling flame. "Obviously that's public knowledge and everyone's going to be headed there."
"There's always an offset concentration north from the center," the other adds. "We had a lot of luck scavenging that one two years ago. I'm not keen on that this year though-- it's coming down over some of the older ruins and the instability is more than I'm willing to put up with."
"Remember that one time we went with Gamse and he managed to fall through sixteen stories on //two separate occasions//?"
"Unforgettable, honestly."
A shout breaks through the mundane chatter, and the lobby hushes for a brief moment before a chill sweeps through the room. A heartbeat later, spikes of ice rip up from the floor.
[[The room plunges into a panic|p7Guild]]That was--
Guild buildings are universally enchanted in a way that //strongly// dampens battle magic. Small spells flew under the enchantments notice-- they were commonplace enough that restricting them would be more trouble than it was worth. But spells like //that?//
It shouldn't be possible.
Whoever managed to break through the enchantment was //not// someone to be trifled with.
The stampede for the door tells you that you're not the only person who came to that conclusion.
[[-This is way too far above your pay grade. Time to skeedaddle.|p8Guild][$Guildfight = 1]]
[[-You're going to stay-- but also stay out of the way.|p8Guild][$Guildfight = 2]]
[[-You can help calm things down, you're sure of it|p8Guild][$Guildfight = 3]]
[[-They're not the only person with enchantment-breaking magic. You're going to wade in.|p8Guild][$Guildfight = 4]]<<if $Guildfight == 1>>
Someone else can handle this.
You join the press of bodies streaming towards the door. You're carried along like a strand of loose seaweed in the ocean, and you feel just as dignified. Shoulders knock into your own, armor digging into you and people shove for the exit. You can't quite hold your place, and you're swept off to the side mere steps from the door.
You can't shove yourself back into the flow, no matter how hard you try.
So you back up and tuck yourself behind one of the decorative pillars scattered around the room.
<<elseif $Guildfight == 2>>
The streaming tide of people making for the door cascades past you as you step off to the side behind a weird, lightning shaped black pillar. The building's going to get locked down anyway-- if standard protocol has anything to say about it-- and you'd rather not be crushed in the stampede.
If nothing else, whatever happens next is going to be //very// interesting.
You move deeper into the room as the last handfuls of the crowd make for the door. There's decent cover behind one of the larger decorative pillars, and you make for it.
<<elseif $Guildfight == 3>>
You slide along the walls, out of the way of the streaming tide of people making for the door. If you can just get closer, you're certain you can talk the combatants out of whatever fight they've gotten themselves into. This is the guild, after all, and you're sure nobody //wants// a fight.
The guild is generally attentive to less than appropriate behavior from its members, and isn't afraid to hand out suspensions and expulsions as needed. And without the guild's support, it's not nearly as simple to travel through portals.
<<elseif $Guildfight == 4>>
You summon up your elemental magic, feeling it sweep through your core and rest ready at your fingertips. It's everything you can do to hold it back as you dodge through the tide of people streaming in the opposite direction.
You're certain you can break through the enchantment yourself and win the fight. Or at least stop it. Breaking the enchantment is more like putting a needle through fabric than like putting a hole in a watertight container. Every spell cast will have to break through the enchantment again-- it's not broken by the mere application of a handful of battle spells.
This gives you a huge advantage. The other combatant has already expended enough energy to break the enchantment, and unless they're some sort of god, they'll tire quickly.
<</if>>
A boneshaking roar of earth magic slams the doors shut.
The people remaining in the lobby scatter to the sides of the room, leaving three figures at the center.
[[Spikes of ice magic stand in a half circle around them.|p9Guild]]The figure wreathed in ice magic is a tall, imperious elf. Their head is held high and their shoulders are back, their cloak half frosted over with the sheer power of their element. The sneer on their face is nearly as chilling as their magic. Their pack is split open beside them, its contents now half frozen to the icy floor.
Across from them stands a demon, her spiraling horns and half-spread wings giving the illusion that she's far bigger than the elf though they're near the same height. Her sleeveless shirt leaves her muscular arms bare. Her red skin is speckled with glittering scales, and her sulfurous yellow eyes are split by dark, catlike pupils.
Shielded by her wings, a small human cowers on the ground.
<<if $Guildfight == 3>>
You continue your approach, stepping slowly and carefully across the lobby.
"What seems to be the problem?" You call, stopping just short of the icy ring.
The elf flicks their long, dark hair away from their face and regards you with a withering look. "This //fool// just shredded my pack with his careless flaunting of his weapon. He is a disgrace to the guild."
"There's no need to fight," You say slowly, holding your hands up. "We can talk this out. I'm sure some form of compensation--"
"Three thousand gold pieces. The leather is irreparable and priceless."
<<elseif $Guildfight == 4>>
You carry your elemental magic wreathed around your person as you stalk closer to the group. At a glance, the elf is the aggressor, but you don't know the situation yet. Perhaps an application of force will hurry them into wrapping this up.
"Now look what you've done," the demon says to the elf, then rolls her head to set her golden eyes on you. "Is this a party now?"
"That //fool// owes me three thousand gold. This leather is irreparable and priceless," the elf hisses back.
<<else>> /* the two hiding options */
You peer out from the cover of the pillar, tense and ready to react if the fight escalates.
"Please, it was an accident," the human on the floor cries out, his voice breaking.
"That //pack//," the elf hisses back, "is worth over three thousand gold."
<</if>>
[[A door at the back of the room slams open|p10Guild]]The door at the back of the room slams open, and a furious human clad in guild uniform storms out. Her coat is heavy with glowing runes-- the sort that certainly tied into the building's security system. She could set off any number of attack, defense, and containment spells with a mere gesture while dressed up like that.
You can feel the pressure of the spells tightening. <<if $thief == true>>
The cog feels hot in your pocket, and you can feel it burn up into your chest where it tangles with your own magic. The sensation deepens as the restrictive guild spells flare.
<</if>>
"That is //enough!//" the uniformed human roars. "You three have //one// chance to leave before I suspend all of you. Get! Out!"
"This human has damaged my property--" the elf starts.
"And you have damaged guild property! Not only that, but you have caused an emergency lockdown on one of the //busiest// days of the year," The human turns and you catch a glimpse of the guildmaster rune on the back of her uniform. "Get out of my lobby //now.//"
"Guildmaster I was simply--" The red demon tries.
"//OUT!//"
The elf is the first to go. With a brief sweep of their magic, they melt the ice around their belongings and stuff them ungracefully back into the damaged pack. They stalk towards the door without another word.
The demon waits until he's gone to leave the cowering human's side. As she passes by you, she catches your eye and subtly jerks her head as if to indicate for you to follow.
[[You scramble to keep up with her.|Iintro1]]
[[You're going the same way anyhow. May as well see what she wants.|Iintro1]]
[[You follow cautiously.|Iintro1]]It's a bit of a challenge to follow the demon through the crowd waiting outside of the building, but you manage. It's likely the guild will be closed for a handful of hours to deal with the aftermath-- and it's a good guess that the guildmaster won't take kindly to nagging questions about it just now.
The demon stops at the end of the plaza, dropping herself down at an unoccupied streetside table. Her golden eyes follow you as you approach and sit down across from her.
"I shant waste your time, <<if $pctitle == "Unknown">> <<cycle "$pctitle" autoselect>>
<<option "traveler">>
<<option "adventurer">>
<<option "guardian">>
<</cycle>> <<else>> $pctitle<</if>>," she says. Her voice is low and rich, easy to hear over the bustle of the restaurant you're sitting out front of. "My name is Izre. The way you handled yourself in the guild was of note to me. You kept your head and <<if $Guildfight == 3>> tried to manage the situation.
<<elseif $Guildfight == 4>> were ready to fight in an instant.
<<else>> stayed calm and out of the way. <</if>> May I know your name?"
<<if $nameset == false>>
"My name is--"
<<textbox "$name" "Type name" "Iintro2">>
[[That's my name.|Iintro2]]
<<else>> "My name is <<print $name>>."
[[Next.|Iintro2]]
<</if>>"It is very much my pleasure to meet you, <<print $name>>," Izre says. "Time is rather short and I do not believe I will find who I need within the guild. The guildmaster is not what you would call a friend of mine, and today's events are unlikely to improve that... relationship. I need someone I can rely on to join me in the ruins."
<<set $nameset = true>>
"You're a firefall scavenger, then?" You ask. Nearly every adventurer in the city at the moment is.
"Not quite," Izre chuckles, tapping her clawed fingers on the tabletop. "I am a bit of a scholar, you see. The firefall tends to trigger old magics, and I seek to find them and learn about them. I can handle myself in a fight should I encounter less than friendly elements but truth be told my greatest asset in a fight is my appearance. I have been told I am rather intimidating."
[[-I can see why people would say that, you say.|Iintro3]]
[[-You certainly seemed ready to hold your own against that elf, you say.|Iintro3]]
[[-I like the way you look, you say.|Iintro3][$Iflirt = 1]]
[[-Her appearance... "Intimidating? Maybe. Breathtaking? Definitely."|Iintro3][$Iflirt = 1]]<<if $Iflirt == 1>>
Izre blushes //deeply//. The red hue to her skin is swept into a dark purple that reaches down her neck. She draws her hand away from the table, then puts it back. She clears her throat once, then again.
<</if>>
"I ah... Thank you."
Izre pushes her chair back from the table a touch to flag down a waiter. She asks for menus for you both, then turns back to you.
"I will pay you, of course. A sum up front and then a percentage of anything we find. I am not seeking treasures, so you are welcome to the lion's share. The ruins I am interested in are off the path of this year's firefall-- though they were rather central to last year's."
[[-I'd gladly take any treasure we find.|Iintro4][$motive = "treasure"]]
[[-I'm more interested in investigating the ghost stories.|Iintro4][$motive = "ghosts"]]
[[-I'm somewhat of a scholar myself.|Iintro4][$motive = "research"]]<<if $motive == "treasure">>
"Well I certainly won't stand in your way," Izre chuckles. "I'll pay for the meal if you agree to hear me out."
<<else>>
"A fellow inquiring mind," Izre nods approvingly. "I'll pay for the meal if you agree to hear me out."
<</if>>
"<<cycle "$imeal" autoselect>>
<<option "Ah, thank you. I'll check the menu then.">>
<<option "I couldn't possibly--">>
<<option "I'm not hungr--">>
<</cycle>>"
"It's settled then!" Izre claps her hands. She reaches into her coat and slips out a card. She skims it across the table towards you.
It's a business card for a local inn. Some place called Gatrie's Bed and Breakfast.
"It's owned by some local friends who owe me. Feel free to ask them for a room on me," Izre says, flicking back and forth through the menu. She settles on a page full of meat dishes, tracing the text with a single claw.
The waiter loops back later to take your orders, and you settle in. Izre spends some time describing her research-- investigation of the corruption magics that caused the cataclysm that stopped the Eventide Ring's rotation and decimated the population. Pockets of it still existed on the planet and occasionally came down in firefalls. The modern measures for handling the magics were limited to containment-- but Izre wanted to learn how to dispell it.
After the conversation winds down into companionable silence, Izre asks for the bill.
"I need rest and I imagine you do as well, <<print $pctitle>>," she says. "Please do think on my proposal. I would be honored if you would join me."
[[-Thank you, you say. But I'd rather seek other opportunities.|Iintro5][$iproposal = 1]]
[[-I'll think about it, you say.|Iintro5][$iproposal = 2]]
[[-I'm in, you say.|Iintro5][$iproposal = 3]]"I'll be at Gatrie's at around noon tomorrow to begin my expedition should you choose to join me," Izre says with a warm smile. "Rest well, <<print $pctitle>>."
<<if $thief == true>>
[[You go your separate ways.|Hotel1]]
<<elseif $thief == false>>
[[You go your separate ways.|Trail1]]
<</if>>As you step away from the table, something oddly familiar catches in the corner of your eye. You glance over, but all you can see is the continuous flow of people. The familiarity doesn't wane, though.
<<set $thief = true>>
[[You follow the feeling.|Trail2]]The streets open up before you into a wide town square bracketed on each end with towers that reach up into the clouds.
Dense pockets of people are scattered around the square, many of them crowded around street performers and novelty game stalls. The rim of the square is populated with booths featuring a wide selection of foods both local and interplanetary. The rich scents waft through the air like blazing neon arrows pointing back to their sources.
You're jostled on all sides as you make your way through the crowds. Even through the blocked sightlines and chaos, you can still feel the odd pull. You //know// where you're going, even if you don't know the destination.
[[-It's unsettling|Trail3]]
[[-It's thrilling|Trail3]]
[[-You're just glad to feel like you know what you're doing|Trail3]]A tall, thin demon slinks by, draped with gold edged robes. The robes have slits down the backs of the arms where their spines peek out, and their watchful eyes follow you as you pass by. You move on, passing by them only to be bumped into by a stout, heavily armored man. He huffs at you and shoots you a glare before he disappears into the crowd.
You slip into the next group of people. The crowd rings a human who masterfully wields the element of fire. Her fingers dance up and down in synch with the snapping flame as she tells a story in a language you recognize but can't place. As she draws up her arms to conduct the finale of her tale in images of fire, your gaze slides away from her to catch sight of the elf you're looking for.
[[But you're not... looking for anyone?|Trail4]]The elf's shaggy brown hair is brushed haphazardly back from his sparkling green eyes. His skin is a pale, sunkissed gold. The sage colored coat he wears is lined with a rich leather of some sort, and you can feel the depth of the earth elemental magic that is woven into the construction of it. His long, narrow fingers are decked with elaborately twined golden rings that extend up towards his wrist, attached with golden chains to bangles that trail up his arms.
He claps his hands, laugh ringing out amongst the noise of the crowd as the human's story comes to an end. Then those same hands, gold rings and all, slip into the pocket of the woman standing in front of him and come back up with a flash of--
He's stealing purses.
This is the theif who stole from //you//.
[[-Steal your purse back. You know how to do this.|Trail5a]]
[[-Steal your purse back. You're sure it won't be that hard, right?|Trail5a][$unpracticedthief = true]]
[[-Confront him.|Trail5b]]
[[-Follow him, for now.|Trail5c]]Turnabout is fair play.
You approach him slowly, trying to make it look like you're paying attention to the human storyteller as she answers questions and accepts praise from the crowd. He's busy slipping his hands in and out of people's pockets with moves you wouldn't notice if you didn't know to look for it. You're having a hard time catching all of them anyway.
You manage to work your way behind him. For a second you pause-- which pocket is //your// purse-- no. You know which pocket. You're not sure how you know, but you're dead certain you do.
You dip your fingers into the pocket and come up with exactly what you were looking for.
<<if $unpracticedthief == true>>
The elf freezes for a heartbeat, then half turns to shoot you a lazy grin. He reaches for your hand--
[[Book it.|p6Thief]]
<</if>>
<<if $unpracticedthief == false>>
[[Slip off into the crowd.|p6Thief]]
<</if>>You stride purposefully through the crowd, not even bothering to glance at the people flooding in to ask the human storyteller questions and offer her praise for her performance.
"Hey you!" you say, your voice loud above the chaos. "Give those back!"
The elf turns lazily. His eyes widen a touch when he sees you're //unquestionably// speaking to him. His hands come up, the chains glittering. "I'm sorry, I do believe you may have the wrong person."
"I'm certain I don't," you snap back.
"Oh well in that case--"
[[The elf books it.|Trail5b1]]You sprint after him.
He makes for a narrow street barely visible between two offset restaurants. For a brief moment, it looks like he's going to knock down a flower display at the side of one of the restaurants to slow you, but he snaps his hand back at the last moment.
You slip between the two buildings, bolting down the alley. The elf zig zags down back streets, making last minute turns that have you scrambling to not hit walls as you try to mirror his agility. In less than a minute, you find yourself in a more residential area. The towers here are far shorter than those downtown, and the intimidating grey and black paint gives out into more colorfully decorated homes and storefronts.
The elf comes to such an abrupt stop that you nearly bowl into him.
"Well then, now that we're alone we can discuss your grievance," the elf says pleasantly. He brushes invisible dust off the shoulder of his coat. He's not even out of breath.
[[Next|Trail6]]You mosey after him. You make sure to watch the performers as you pass, keeping your path a little way off the elf's.
He makes for a narrow street barely visible between two offset restaurant. He's not checking over his shoulder. Not a single flicker of nervous body language as he wanders away from the scene of the crime. Crimes.
You slip between the two buildings behind him, waiting until he's nearly at the other end of the alley to enter it. You almost lose him several times as he takes side streets and back alleys in no definable pattern. His path almost seems to loop back on itself a few times. After what feels like forever, you find yourself in a more residential area. The towers here are far shorter than those downtown, and the intimidating grey and black paint gives out into more colorfully decorated homes and storefronts.
The elf is waiting in the middle of the unoccupied street, directly facing you.
"Well then, now that we're alone we can discuss your grievance," the elf calls pleasantly.
[[Next|Trail6]]He puts his hands on his hips, knocking the edge of his cloak back to reveal the briefest glimpse at the interior of it. Hanging there is your purse.
"You stole my purse!" you blurt out.
"Oh <<print $pctitle>>, I //sell// purses," The elf says smoothly, his voice a liquid sweet purr. "But just in case one from my collection was acquired by less than civil means from my supplier, please do tell me which it is."
"It's that one," you point it out the second he opens his coat.
"Well in that case," the elf's smile narrows and his eyes glint dangerously as he hands the purse back to you. "You must be rather delighted to have //all// of your things back."
You open the purse and riffle through it. There's less money in it than earlier, and the cog trinket is gone.
"I would be if //all of my things// were still in here," you shoot back.
His grin returns in full force. "Well, ah, I'm sure I don't have coin to make up for whatever was lost, but I do have this."
[[It's the cog.|CogDraw]]Portaling is exhausting on the best of days, and today hasn't been what you would call your best. Not so much the best in the way that birthday parties and well-done jobs that ended with fat paychecks were the best. Maybe the best in the way that drinking a glass of water was the best after spending two days in the desert.
The run-in at the guild and whatever the cog had done to your magic hasn't helped. The stretched feeling still pulls your insides slow and cold like taffy. It feels less urgent than when you'd first felt it, but it is still there. But that's a problem for tomorrow <<print $name>>. Today <<print $name>> still needs to find somewhere to sleep.
<<if $thief>>
You trudge out of the residential district, back towards the city center where hotels are packed denser than bread cooked from insufficiently kneaded dough.
<<elseif $guild>>
You leave the restaurant and join the pedestrians making their way through the city.
<</if>>
[[-Izre offered you free lodging, might as well take her up on it.|Hotel2][$hotel = "BNB"]]
[[-Qilen mentioned the Wildstar Inn, might as well head there.|Hotel2][$hotel = "W"]]
[[-The guild might have free beds available.|Hotel2][$hotel = "G"]]//Hours later...//
You acquire a room without much fuss, though the wait is longer than you would like. By the time you toss yourself on the bed, you're close to passing out without even changing clothes.
The eternal twilight orange light filters through the uncovered window, highlighting the dust motes that drift aimlessly across the room. If you squint just enough, they look like glittering golden stars against the nightlike shadows of the far wall.
[[-You turn Izre's proposal over in your head.|Hotel3][$proposalthought = "Izre"]]
[[-You can't stop yourself from thinking about Qilen's offer.|Hotel3][$proposalthought = "Qilen"]]
[[-You're not sure which offer interests you more.|Hotel3][$proposalthought = "Unknown"]]<<if $proposalthought == "Izre">>
Izre's proposal to join her during her research endeavors is appealing, to say the least. Away from the worst of the firefall chaos, though still likely worth your time. Izre herself seemed competent and put together -- and she'd stood up for that human, hadn't she? A sight more trustworthy than the sort who were known to show up for the firefall.
<<elseif $proposalthought == "Qilen">>
Qilen.
The elf had stolen your purse and had the //audacity// to invite you with him. He seemed the sort to give you more than you bargained for-- and not in any way you would expect. Did he give you the offer just so he could get you alone to jump you?
<<else>>
Both Qilen and Izre had made rather... notable first impressions.
A lucrative research mission or a secret firefall map. A guardian scholar or a charming thief.
<</if>>
<<if $proposalthought == "Qilen">>
[[-Choosing to go with Qilen sounds risky.|Hotel4]]
[[-Qilen will certainly keep you on your toes, and that's where you like to be.|Hotel4]]
<<elseif $proposalthought == "Izre">>
[[-Izre's proposal carries dangers of its own-- the ruins she wants to research are less than stable.|Hotel4]]
[[-Izre's research sounds fascinating, and you wouldn't mind hearing more about it.|Hotel4]]
<</if>> [[-You're not about to make any decisions while half asleep.|Hotel4]]You have until noon tomorrow to figure it out, anyhow.
[[Might as well get some rest.|Ch1Interlude]]You've reached the end of Chapter 1!
Thank you for joining us on the journey so far. If you feel inspired by this story, check out the Chapter 1 challenge below to learn how you can earn rewards for making art or writing works based on this chapter!
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[[Continue to Chapter 2|Hotel5]]
[[Chapter 1 creative challenge|https://www.paperdemon.com/app/news/article/5708/art-rpg-the-eventide-ring-campaign]]
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[[Support us on Patreon|https://www.patreon.com/paperdemon]]This choice will allow you to start on Chapter 2.
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We would recommend starting from your last save point in Chapter 1 instead of starting directly from Chapter 2.
[[Start Chapter 2|Hotel5]]
[[Bring me back to the start screen|start]]//You blink and you're standing on a narrow spiral staircase, bracketed on each side with tight walls. The stones are worn through in places. The sunset glow from outside streaks through the gaps, painting the walls with scattered patches of gold.//
//The wind whistles through the stones and you think you can feel the structure sway just a bit beneath your feet. You turn, and the stairs behind you end suddenly in a gap that plunges into darkness. You can see a sharp metal bar jutting out from the wall a ways down, but nothing else.//
//A thread of a whisper crawls up from the dark, echoing around the staircase and sweeping around you like a caress. You shudder. You're not sure if the words are meant for you, and if they are, you're not sure that they're words you want to hear. The longer you stand, the louder the whispers become.//
[[Up it is.|Hotel6]]//You make your way up the stairs, following the spiral up and up and up. You've seen how high the towers of the Eventide Ring can stretch. For a moment you wonder if you'll be walking forever, condemned to a sisyphean spiral.//
//Then you're standing in front of a wall. The end of the stairs.//
//The whispers are still dragging across the walls after you like the sound of nails on stone.//
//The light shifts.//
//A doorway opens up at the end of a hall you could have sworn wasn't there a moment ago. Your feet take you forward, step by step, until you're standing on an unrailed balcony.//
[[A shiver ripples up your spine as you keep stepping forward.|Hotel7]]//Your heart stutters as you peer over the edge of the ruined tower. The stones beneath your feet are loose, and there are open gaps where some of them have dropped into the twilight haze below. The jagged rooftops of smaller towers line up in a row of toothlike structures, dwarfed by the height of the tower you stand on. The night side of the planet falls just beyond the maw, a sharp dropoff into voidlike darkness.//
//The stones beneath your feet crack. The sound echoes out, rippling through the tower. And the next tower. And the next. It rumbles louder, a cacophony of thunder that shakes your tower. And the next. And the next.//
//You turn around towards the doorway. Each step is a herculanean effort, and the rushing hiss of the encroaching darkness turns into a roar. You drag your eyes up, away. Back to the door. To freedom. To the whispers.//
[[The roaring cuts out.|Hotel8]]//Standing in the doorway is a tall, thin figure, body shimmering raggedly with undefinable blue magic. Loose, wavering patches of white light roughly mark out where its eyes would be. The whispers seem to slide from it, slithering across the stones and through the air towards you.//
//Its hand reaches out.//
[[You reach back.|Hotel9]]
[[You just... wait.|Hotel9]]
[[You scramble away.|Hotel9]]Before you can react, the floor drops out from beneath you.
You snap awake.
You're in your hotel room, blankets tangled around you. The curtains still don't quite block all the light from outside. Your hands are shaking.
Your breath shudders in your chest, and you take a moment to breathe in deep.
It catches in your throat.
[[The figure is still in the doorway.|Hotel10]]Wait-- no. It...
You were mistaken. There's nothing there. You're sure of it. Just a leftover remnant of the dream.
You go to rub the sleep out of your eyes and pause. The cog trinket is in your hand. Now that you're looking at it, you can feel where the edges of it pressed deeply into your hand as if you had been clinging to it for dear life. You didn't... go to sleep holding that? Did you?
[[You must have just forgotten.|Hotel11]]
[[An unsettling prickle in your chest tells you that you didn't.|Hotel11]]
[[You need to get rid of this thing|Hotel11][$cogdiscomfort += 1]]<<if $cogdiscomfort > 0>>
Whatever enchantment this trinket contained isn't inert. It's active. Maybe not fully active-- maybe not powerful enough to do whatever it was meant to. But maybe it is.
<</if>>
You can't quite stop yourself from tucking the thing back into your bag. You don't want to leave it in the hotel room. You'll... deal with it later.
[[-You're going to take Izre up on her proposal.|Izdep][$questline = "Izre"]]
[[-You'll take Qilen up on his offer.|QiDep][$questline = "Qilen"]]Izre is waiting for you with her wings mantled lightly around her shoulders like a cloak. She's flicking quickly through a datapad. It thrums deeply with fire magic, threads of power trickling from Izre's fingers into the display. She's wearing heavy working boots and the rest of her clothes look far more lived-in than what she'd been wearing yesterday.
As for you, you'd put on <<cycle "$cycle" autoselect>>
<<option "something sensible for exploring treacherous ruins.">>
<<option "just the same thing you always wear.">>
<<option "only what you needed-- your species doesn't typically wear clothing.">>
<<option "something nice. You're well enough versed in fashion to choose clothing that you can work in and look good in.">>
<<option "something nice. You wanted... Well. You wanted to look nice for Izre.">>
<</cycle>>
Izre startles a little as you approach. "Ah, <<print $name>>! You're here. I had sincerely hoped you would come."
[[I thought you were amazing. I-- uh. Your research. Is amazing.|IzDep2][$Iflirt += 1]]
[[And I am sincerely glad to be here.|IzDep2]]
[[Your research interested me.|IzDep2]]
[[I wasn't keen on going into the firefall alone.|IzDep2]]
[[I didn't have many other options|IzDep2][$izmeh += 1]]<<if $izmeh == 1>>
Izre pauses a moment and gives you a long, unreadable look.
<<elseif $Iflirt > 1>>
Izre's fingers stumble on the datapad, fluttering a little as she glances up at you with a slightly bashful smile.
<</if>> "Are you ready to go then?" Izre asks, tucking the datapad away.
The sky behind her flickers as a meteor burns up in atmosphere, withering away into nothing. A second one follows it, and a third.
[[You're ready.|ISetoff]]
[[You're nervous, but there's nothing left keeping you in the city.|ISetoff]]The twilight haze of the sky lights day-bright with meteors as the two of you set off. Vendors line the street on the way out of the city, offering food and supplies to firefall teams at exorbitantly high prices. Other stalls host displays of magical trinkets-- some meant to bring luck, others meant to attract the meteors or some such nonsense. Enchanting items with spells worth buying was a hard-earned skill, not one that was likely to turn up in what amounted to tourist trap shops.
Izre's stride never falters as you pass the vendors.
[[You slow, though, fascinated by the variety of wares.|ISetoff2]]
[[You know better than to be drawn in.|ISetoff2]]
[[You consider filching an item or two, but Izre's judgemental look stops you.|ISetoff2]]The road beyond the vendors opens up into several directions, but most of them are rather more livestock trails than actual roads. There aren't that many other firefall teams setting off alongside you-- many started earlier in the day or even earlier in the week. You'd heard that some groups camped out in the wilds long before the firefall started in earnest. A yearly goldrush-- one beholden more to lady luck than any amount of planning and preparation.
Nobody could predict exactly where the debris would fall, nor whether it would be worth salvaging when it did come down.
Some prefered to traverse the debris cloud while it was still starside, but the sheer danger of the spaceborne wreckage paired with the potent corruption magics deterred most. The Eventide Ring had been dealing with the Cataclysm magic for centuries, and the atmosphere itself was imbued with enough cleansing magics to neutralize the worst of it.
[[You've picked up knowledge of the Eventide Ring in your many travels.|ISetoff3]]
[[You've learned about the Ring from your research.|ISetoff3]]
[[You didn't know much about the Ring until the mandatory lecture before portaling in.|ISetoff3]]The lost history of the Eventide Ring could fill libraries, but the recorded history was extensive and complex on its own.
As you continue onwards, Izre offers an occasional tidbit of information about her research in relation to your surroundings. The span of farmlands is apparently the result of many centuries of careful deconstruction of the planetwide city. A domesticated strain of sundogs were trained to patrol the borders of properties, some specialized to defend from other predators, and others trained to identify showings of corruption magic.
One of the less appealing aspects of the corruption magic-- as well as an aspect that seemed to absolutely fascinate Izre-- was that it occasionally became sentient.
Or rather, fragments of it that //started// sentient occasionally became powerful enough to get up and walk around on their own. It was one of the many reasons firefall teams were welcomed-- the less corruption magic concentrated on the Ring, the less danger it would pose to the local population.
During a lull in conversation, you have the chance to ask Izre a few questions.
[[Why are you so interested in corruption magic?|Cmag1]]
[[Is corruption magic less dangerous offworld?|Cmag2]]
[[Do you have a way to contain any corruption magic we find?|Cmag3]]
[[You don't want to ask questions.|IRuinedCity]]"Why are you so interested in corruption magic?" You ask.
Izre tilts her head, her eyes following the brief flash of a particularly bright meteor above. "I've always been fascinated with dispelling magic. The corruption magic here seems oddly resistant to it, and I'd like to learn why. Besides that, the local history is rather fascinating and I appreciate that my nosing around is welcomed."
"Dispelling magic," you repeat.
"Yes. That is one of the reasons I interrupted the fight in the guild," Izre grins a little, sharp teeth glinting. "While I'm not a particularly impressive fighter, I could have dispelled that elf's magic had they attempted anything lethal."
"Even through the guild's magic shielding?"
"At the risk of sounding less than humble, I've perfected my spellwork to the point where it would not have set off the guild's shielding. It's a very efficient little thing."
[[Is corruption magic less dangerous offworld?|Cmag2]]
[[Do you have a way to contain any corruption magic we find?|Cmag3]]
[[You don't have any more questions.|IRuinedCity]]"There's a lot of energy directed at getting corruption magic out of the ring," you observe. "Is it less dangerous when taken offworld?"
Izre laughs out a short sharp bark. "Oh that //would// be nice, wouldn't it?"
"That's a no, then."
"That's right, it's just as dangerous elsewhere," Izre confirms. She steps around a particularly tall patch of thick, soft brown grass that reaches nearly up to her shoulder. "Portalling off of the Ring often dispells the magic, and the few artifacts that come out the other side intact are quickly snapped up by research institutions."
There's a note of bitterness in her tone. "That's why I'm out here collecting some myself-- I couldn't convince any of said insitutions to allow me access to their resources and I certainly could not outbid them."
[[Why are you so interested in corruption magic?|Cmag1]]
[[Do you have a way to contain any corruption magic we find?|Cmag3]]
[[You don't have anymore questions.|IRuinedCity]]"So can you contain the corruption magic, if we find any?" You ask.
"Not if, when," Izre says confidently. "We'll find some for certain, the question is whether or not any of it will be powerful enough to be worth my time."
"Okay, //when// we find it, can you contain it?"
"That-- ah..." Izre rubs the back of her neck, her wings flicking fractionally out behind her. "We'll have to find something middlingly charged. Too little and it will fade before it can be of use to me, too much and-- to be honest-- i will not be able to safely contain it."
[[You're rather well practiced in containing dangerous magic yourself.|Cmag3thoughts][set $Cont == true]]
[[You may be able to help, but like Izre it will depend.|Cmag3thoughts]]
[[You'll be of no help in that department.|Cmag3thoughts]]<<if $Cont == true>>
"I may be able to help," you say. "I'm well versed in containing magics."
Izre's eyes widen and she huffs out a little laugh. "Well then fate has dealt us a kind hand today."
<<else>>
"I'm not sure how much use I'll be in containing either," you say.
"We'll just have to be careful then," Izre says quietly.
<</if>>
A gentle breeze kicks up, running its fingers through the grasses and brushing over you in almost an inquisitive manner. You can't see another firefall team from where you are, but the winds taste distinctly of magic.
"If all goes well, we won't have to worry about it," Izre says.
[[Why are you so interested in corruption magic?|Cmag1]]
[[Is corruption magic less dangerous offworld?|Cmag2]]
[[You don't have any more questions.|IRuinedCity]]Civilization drops off abruptly several hours outside of the city as the brief showing of fields and plains ends against another city of sky-high spires. The wind's picked up to the point where Izre's pinned her wings tightly against her back to stop them from catching against the jagged gusts. The wind isn't natural in the slightest, but neither you nor Izre have detected the slightest whiff of another firefall team in the area.
The bulk of the firefall itself is far off in the distance now. You can still see the meteors streaking overhead at regular intervals, bright enough to show against the twilight skies. Those that survive the atmosphere are well out of range of your path.
"How far are we from the site we're heading for?" you ask, raising your voice to be heard above the wind. It's whistling oddly through the cracks and edges of the spires around you.
"It's still a few hours out," Izre calls back.
[[You have wings too, and it's a struggle to keep them tucked in.|IChase1][$wings = true]]
[[You don't envy Izre's struggles-- you don't have wings yourself.|IChase1]]"Did you see that?" you shout.
"No, but I can feel it!" Izre pulls her wings down tighter and lunges into the wind. "This is exactly what we're looking for!"
The stale mustard color twines through the wind again, this time accompanied with a flurry of sickly yellow sparks. Izre bolts after it.
[[You bolt after her.|IChase2]]The wind rips at you almost as if it has hands. You push through it, a handful of steps behind Izre as she charges against the flurry.
<<if $ElementalPower == "Sky">>
You summon your own element, pushing it against the wind magic with all of your strength. You manage to hold an opening just big enough to fit yourself and Izre through the gale. A hurricane's eye.
[[You reach the head of the storm.|IFindfox]]
<<else>>
[[You push onwards.|IGoAround]]
<</if>>"We're not making any headway!" Izre calls. "We'll have to go around to find the front of it!"
She snaps out her wings. The wind whips her backwards, and she vanishes into the dust and debris.
The wind howls, sending you skidding backwards.
[[Without warning, it vanishes.|IGoAround2]]You nearly fall over as the wind pressure stops abruptly, leaving you swaying in the center of the street. Izre's a half a block behind you, coughing and brushing dust off of her clothes.
[[What was that?|ICityq1]]
[[We could have thought that one out a little better.|ICityq2]]
[[Next time, don't go rushing ahead, Izre.|ICityq2][$izmeh += 1]]"//That,//" Izre laughs breathlessly, spitting out a leaf. "Was corruption magic."
And //that// is not how magic usually behaves. Magic usually needs to be tethered to an item or a being to maintain any level of structural integrity. Unless...
[[Was it sentient?|ICityq12]]
[[You've seen sentient magic before. This is the same.|ICityq12][$sentmag = true]]<<if $sentmag == true>>
"That was sentient magic, and not a base element," you say. You can still feel it, but the cloud of wind is out of sight between the half-ruined spires ahead. Some of the structures sway dangerously.
<</if>>
"It's sentient all right," Izre licks her lips, taking a few steps past you towards where the storm vanished. "Far beyond any other manifestation of corruption magic I've encountered. We can't trap that, but did you feel the //intent?//"
"I was mostly feeling tossed around," you admit.
"It was looking for something, as far as I could tell," she pauses for a long moment, then quickly adds, "not us, of course."
"Then what?"
"I'm not quite sure, but we're going to find out."
Izre calls forth her own magic, a crackle of liquid orange flame racing up her arms and tracing down the edges of her wings. You can feel her power reaching past you, towards the storm. She closes her eyes, tilting her head back and taking a long, slow breath.
[[Then her eyes snap open.|IFindfox]]<<if $izmeh == 2>
"Would it help if I added an extra handful of gold for you to keep your opinions to yourself?" Izre asks lightly, but there's a hard spark in her eye.
<<elseif $izmeh == 1>>
"I seem to recall you joining me without question a moment ago," Izre says.
<<else>>
"Ah yes, we could have," Izre agrees. "But we're doing the thinking now and we're not that much worse for wear."
<</if>>
You can hear the wind howling in the distance, the whistling rising into a far-off scream.
"I can track the head of it, I think," Izre says thoughtfully, then steps away from you.
Izre calls forth her own magic, a crackle of liquid orange flame racing up her arms and tracing down the edges of her wings. You can feel her power reaching past you, towards the storm. She closes her eyes, tilting her head back and taking a long, slow breath.
[[Then her eyes snap open.|IFindfox]]"//Found it,//" Izre breathes.
"The screaming vortex of doom?"
"No, I found what it's chasing," Izre scans the maze-like streets and picks a direction. "This way."
She takes off down an alleyway, wings half raised and beating to speed her steps.
[[You follow once again.|IFindfox2]]The towers creak ominously above you as you run, cracked roads unstable beneath you. The roaring storm edges closer, swirling a handful of blocks off to the right.
Izre is half running and half flying just ahead of you, her elemental power still invoked and trailing orange sparks behind her.
She slows as the two of you reach a wide open square. A decrepit fountain lies crumbled at the center, water stains trailing off to the side where moss grows in the half light. It's backlit by a faint, flickering blue.
Izre gestures for you to loop around the opposite side as she edges towards the fountain.
[[You comply.|IFindfox3]]As you come around the fountain, you spot the source of the light.
Cowering in the rubble is a glowing foxlike creature. Its body is made of etherial blue light, and you can see right through the other side of it. Aside, of course, from the lumpy, loosely skull shaped chunk of metal in its head.
A construct.
While true sentient magic is incredibly rare and powerful, enchanted items can mimic sentient magic-- often in the form of constructs like this one. It's a difficult enchantment, but not unheard of.
The fox spots you and lets out a pathetic whining growl through the object in its teeth.
[[It's a gauntlet.|IFindfox4]]And suddenly you want that gauntlet more than you've wanted anything in your life.
Izre appears from the other side of the fountain, moving slowly. Her eyes lock onto the fox construct.
[[Try to convince the fox to come to you.|IConfox]]
[[Distract the fox so Izre can make a grab for it.|IGrabfox]]
[[Grab the fox.|IGrabfox]]The fox spots the trap immediately and bolts away from the fountain-- straight for the oncoming storm.
The construct squeals and scrambles back around, rocketing past you and Izre and over the fountain.
"After it!" Izre cries.
[[The storm bears down on you.|ISpire1]]There could be a million and one reasons the fox was built, but that form is often manifested for one thing-- theivery. The cute and lithe form of a fox is perfect for conning the uneducated-- and outwitting those who recognize it for what it is.
If you can play on its original enchantment, maybe you can get it to approach you.
You flip a coin into your hand.
The fox zeroes in on the shine, creeping slowly out of its hiding place towards you.
Just before it can get within arm's length, the storm cascades into the square.
[[The construct flees.|ISpire1]]You can follow every single move the fox construct makes by the magic tugging at the core of you.
//The gauntlet, the gauntlet, thegauntlet, thegauntletthegauntletthegauntlet--//
You're moving before you can even think about it, bolting between buildings and over piles of rubble. You barely register Izre in your peripheral vision as she runs barely a step behind you.
The storm screams through the towers, nipping at your heels.
The fox slams through a set of rotted planks covering an empty doorway and vanishes into one of the spires.
You're corraled in by the storm, the magic of it roiling around you.
[[There's nowhere to go but up.|ISpire2]]A jarring sense of deja vu shudders through the core of you as you start up the stairs. The fox's tail vanishes up the spiral ahead of you, and the storm rips through the door behind you.
"Izre!" you yell. "Can you dispell the storm?"
"Are you insane?" Izre snaps.
"//Can you dispell it?//"
[[The spire groans around you.|ISpire3]]"I can try!" Izre gasps out, stumbling on a crumbled stair. She rights herself with a half-snap of her wing. "I'm going to need some space though!"
You're not going to get space in this stairway.
You ram your shoulder against a door leading off the stairs. There's no give to it, and no time to force through it with your magic.
No time to check every door.
There's only one way to get some space.
[[You can only hope Izre will be fast enough.|Ispire4]]"We're going to have to jump!" You shout.
"I can't fly in this wind!" Izre yells.
"Then you're going to have to cast quickly," you put on one last burst of speed, only to skid to a stop as the staircase ends with a closed door on one side and an open landing on the other. You slam into the door, hoping-- no, it's just as impassible as the other.
The fox stands at the end of the landing.
[[You step out.|Ispire5]]As you approach, the fox leaps up into your arms. It's almost weightless and almost intangiable, whatever enchantment was bound to its skull was weakened. The little creature shivers in an almost real showing of fear. Izre bursts onto the platform, her wings spreading out in the open and lifting in a great upwards sweep.
"//Jump!//"
<<if $wings == true>>
You spread your own wings, catapulting yourself off the landing and out into open space.
<</if>> As you fall, you catch a chillingly familiar blue figure standing in the doorway of the landing.
Izre's power flares as she channels a tightly knit spell over her shoulder.
There's a long, sickening moment as the storm cascades behind the door, then you //feel// Izre's spell connect.
The explosion of power nearly whites out your vision.
<<if $wings == false>>
Izre catches you in midair, snapping her wings out and pumping them desperately to slow your fall.
<</if>> The impact of Izre's fire element and the corruption magic reacting together shears the tower in two above you, and it falls with a roar.
[[You hit the ground hard.|Ispire6]]For a brief moment, a meteor lights the sky and you can see the tower falling, silhouetted against the sky.
[[Then all you see is blackness.|Qjoin]]Through the dark, a familiar light, almost mocking tone rings out.
"And here I thought you'd left me for greener pastures."
Qilen.
A form shifts beside you, and you can feel the leather of a wing bumping up against you. You shift away, only to hit a solid wall of earth. Reaching out, you can feel it above you as well.
"I assume you're to thank for this... shield?" Izre says. "Thank you."
You can practically hear the grin in Qilen's voice as he speaks. "You're so very welcome, darling. I don't suppose you have any coin for your dashing rescuer?"
[[Oh so you're not going to just take it this time?|Qjoin2][$Qch2j = "snippy"]]
[[We could probably spare something for you, Qilen.|Qjoin2][$Qch2j = "gracious"]]
[[I'm so happy to see you.|Qjoin2][$Qch2j = "happy"]]<<if $Qch2j == "happy">>
"Well you can't quite see me yet unless you can see in the dark," Qilen chuckles.
<<elseif $Qch2j == "gracious">>
"I would be ever so grateful, you see, rescuing is hungry work and words alone cannot often buy bread," Qilen chuckles.
<<elseif $Qch2j == "snippy">>
"Now now, no need to be that way," Qilen blusters. "I returned your things, didn't I?"
<</if>>
"Do you two know each other?" Izre asks.
[[Unfortunately yes.|Qjoin3]]
[[We met yesterday.|Qjoin3]]
[[He stole from me, don't trust him.|Qjoin3]]"Now now, we had a wonderful talk, <<print $name>> and I," Qilen says. "I offered <<cycle "$pronoun" autoselect>>
<<option "them">>
<<option "her">>
<<option "him">>
<</cycle>> a rather lucrative contract but it seems I was turned down in favor of a rather powerful mage."
There's a very long pause while Izre absorbs his words.
"You flatter me far too much," Izre says quietly. "The spell was just efficient. Not powerful."
"Well I think it was very impressive," Qilen responds, then opens up the earthen shield.
[[The twilight sky has never seemed more welcoming.|Ch2Interlude]]It takes you a while to find Qilen, and when you do he's leaning intently over a vendor's stall, hanging raptly on the woman's every word. His hands are tucked underneath him-- right over top of some of the wares on her table. You can see his hands moving slightly-- just the barest flicker of movement.
Well. It's not like you didn't know who you were working with.
Qilen's wearing something far more understated and sensible than yesterday, and his hair is swept back neatly. Besides the gold rings and chains on his hands and wrists, he looks almost like a different person.
As for you, you'd put on <<cycle "$cycle" autoselect>>
<<option "something sensible for exploring treacherous ruins.">>
<<option "just the same thing you always wear.">>
<<option "only what you needed-- your species doesn't typically wear clothing.">>
<<option "something nice. You're well enough versed in fashion to choose clothing that you can work in and look good in.">>
<<option "something nice. You wanted... Well. You wanted to look nice for Qilen.">>
<</cycle>>
Qilen leans away from the table at your approach. "Madam, I am truly sorry but my dear traveling companion <<print $name>> has arrived and I must be off. I truly appreciate your tale, and I do hope that you find a way to get back at that fiendish woman Berta."
The spot Qilen had been leaning against on the table isn't empty, but there are suspiciously large gaps between the merchandise.
"I must say I am //delighted// to see you," Qilen says, sweeping away from the vendor's stall.
[[Not more delighted than I am to see you.|QiDep2][$Qflirt += 1]]
[[Glad to be here.|QiDep2]]
[[I can always be bribed with a good treasure hunt.|QiDep2]]
[[I wasn't keen on going into the firefall alone.|QiDep2]]
[[I didn't have many other options|QiDep2]]<<if $Qflirt >= 1>>
Qilen grins broadly and gives you a graceful bow. "Any day with such an agreeable companion is a day I shall treasure."
<</if>>
The sky behind him flickers as a meteor burns up in atmosphere, withering away into nothing. A second one follows it, and a third.
"I do believe that is our cue," Qilen says. <<if $Qflirt >=1>>
He offers you his arm.
<</if>>"Are you ready to go?"
[[You're ready.|QSetoff]]
[[You're nervous, but there's nothing left keeping you in the city.|QSetoff]]The twilight haze of the sky lights day-bright with meteors as the two of you set off. Vendors line the street on the way out of the city, offering food and supplies to firefall teams at exorbitantly high prices. Other stalls host displays of magical trinkets-- some meant to bring luck, others meant to attract the meteors or some such nonsense. Enchanting items with spells worth buying was a hard-earned skill, not one that was likely to turn up in what amounted to tourist trap shops.
Qilen weaves between the stalls, pausing at nearly half of them. You're not sure how many-- if any-- he steals from, but he's certainly putting on a show.
[[You slow, though, fascinated by the variety of wares.|QSetoff2]]
[[You interrupt Qilen subtly when you think he's trying to steal something.|QSetoff2]]
[[You consider filching an item or two yourself while he's distracting the vendors.|QSetoff2]]The road beyond the vendors opens up into several directions, but most of them are rather more livestock trails than actual roads. There aren't that many other firefall teams setting off alongside you-- many started earlier in the day or even earlier in the week. You'd heard that some groups camped out in the wilds long before the firefall started in earnest. A yearly goldrush-- one beholden more to lady luck than any amount of planning and preparation.
Nobody could predict exactly where the debris would fall, nor whether it would be worth salvaging when it did come down.
Some prefered to traverse the debris cloud while it was still starside, but the sheer danger of the spaceborne wreckage paired with the potent corruption magics deterred most. The Eventide Ring had been dealing with the Cataclysm magic for centuries, and the atmosphere itself was imbued with enough cleansing magics to neutralize the worst of it.
[[You've picked up knowledge of the Eventide Ring in your many travels.|QSetoff3]]
[[You've learned about the Ring from your research.|QSetoff3]]
[[You didn't know much about the Ring until the mandatory lecture before portaling in.|QSetoff3]]The lost history of the Eventide Ring could fill libraries, but the recorded history was extensive and complex on its own.
As you continue onwards, Qilen regales you with tales of past firefalls he'd been on-- many of which seemed to start with him on a team and end with him taking the loot with him minus the team. You're fairly certain that some of them are made up-- at least one artifact he mentions was one that had circled around the gossip mill far enough that you'd heard of it. It had been anonymously donated to a museum on its home planet, half a galaxy away from the Ring.
During a lull in conversation, you have the chance to ask Qilen a few questions.
[[So, should I be prepared to be stabbed in the back?|Qq1]]
[[If this treasure's so lucrative, why are you still stealing?|Qq2]]
[[Where did you get the map?|Qq3]]
[[You don't want to ask questions.|QRuinedCity]]"So, should I be prepared to be stabbed in the back after we find what we're looking for?" You ask.
"I would never stab anyone in the back," Qilen gasps, touching his fingertips to his chest in a rather overdramatized display of offense. "We made an honest deal and I honestly plan to hold up to it."
"Your stories seem to say otherwise," you reply.
"While //I// can hold up my end of a bargain, some of the people I have happened to work with are less willing to cooperate when dividing up the spoils," there's a hint of bitterness in his tone. "I'm typically on the sharp end of the dagger when any backstabbing goes on. It's my trusting nature that gets me in trouble."
[[If this treasure's so lucrative, why are you still stealing?|Qq2]]
[[Where did you get the map?|Qq3]]
[[You don't have anymore questions.|QRuinedCity]]"If this treasure is so lucrative," you start. A distant howl of a sundog interrupts you, and both you and Qilen pause to scan the horizon.
The howl peters off, and the stillness that follows is punctuated by a handful of sharp barks that grow more and more distant.
"If this treasure is so impressive," you try again. "Why are you still stealing everything you see?"
For the briefest second, Qilen's eyes narrow, sharp and hard. In half a heartbeat, the expression is gone, replaced by his usual smug confidence. "You begrudge a man his practice for his most valuable skill?" Qilen tuts under his breath and shoots you a sly glance.
[[So, should I be prepared to be stabbed in the back?|Qq1]]
[[Where did you get the map?|Qq3]]
[[You don't have anymore questions.|QRuinedCity]]"Where did you get the map?" You ask. "Is anyone else looking for it?"
"Do I get to ask you any questions?" Qilen jabs back lightly. "For example-- why did you choose to join me?"
"You didn't answer my question."
"And you didn't answer mine."
[[I wanted to see you again.|Qa1][$Qflirt += 1]]
[[I'm just here for the money.|Qa1]]
[[I wanted to keep an eye on you.|Qa1]]"See? There. Now we're making some progress," Qilen crows. "A true dialogue. A fair back and forth."
"Are you going to answer my question about the map?"
"I purchased it from a vendor who sells promising firefall locations," a lie, more than likely.
[[So, should I be prepared to be stabbed in the back?|Qq1]]
[[If this treasure's so lucrative, why are you still stealing?|Qq2]]
[[You don't have anymore questions.|QRuinedCity]]Civilization drops off abruptly several hours outside of the city as the brief showing of fields and plains ends against another city of sky-high spires.
The bulk of the firefall itself is far off in the distance now. You can still see the meteors streaking overhead at regular intervals, bright enough to show against the twilight skies. Those that survive the atmosphere are well out of range of your path.
"We'll skirt the edges of the city," Qilen says, tucking his hand inside his coat and rummaging around in one of his pockets. There's nothing in his hand when he draws it back out. "Rumor has it that the interior of this city isn't the kindest to visitors around now."
"In what way?" you ask, moving to the side to avoid a jagged chunk of fallen building that's half sunken into the ground.
"Corruption magics!" Qilen answers brightly. "That wicked magic of the sort that only really shows up on the Ring. Not the kind of thing you want to tangle with-- it's rather resistant to base elements."
[[That was what Izre was looking for.|QRuinedCity2]]As you continue onwards, you keep thinking that you see the faintest glimmer of magic out of the corner of your eye. A soft blue glow that flickers lightly and feels faintly of sky magic. Every time you turn to look, though, it vanishes.
"Ah, I see you've noticed our follower," Qilen chuckles.
"Follower?" you ask. "What is it?"
"A construct, likely," Qilen replies. "I've not gotten a good look at it, but I suspect the sort that collects things that //accidentally// end up not in people's pockets."
"Rather like you then."
Qilen laughs merrily.
[[The construct flickers back into sight again.|QRuinedCity3]]"Now stay quiet and keep walking forwards," Qilen says, dropping behind you and to the left so that he's walking between you and the fringes of the city. "If I can slip it something it likes, it might lead us to its stash to put it away."
Qilen pulls a shiny bauble from his coat-- something you recognize from one of the vendors stalls on the way out from the city. He holds it between the tips of his fingers, slightly away from his body, and pointedly does not look towards the place the construct had disappeared back to.
"They're not often particularly clever," Qilen says in a low tone. "They're usually just enchanted with basic task parameters. More than that is expensive and difficult to come by."
[[As if on cue, the blue glimmer returns.|QRuinedCity4]]This time, the little follower reveals itself.
It's a fox shaped construct, its core a loosely skull shaped piece of metal that rests inside of its head. The blue, faintly air-flavored magic that makes up its body is flickery around the edges, streams of it trailing gently off behind it like shredded ribbons.
Whatever enchantment that binds it together is wearing down.
It approaches slowly and carefully, seemingly entirely unaware that your and Qilen's pointed inattention is deliberate.
[[Then it snatches the bauble.|QFindfox]]The construct //bolts//, and Qilen waits a beat, then another, and bolts after it.
Qilen's steps are light, and he stays just out of sight behind the construct. You're not entirely sure how he's keeping track of it, but you suspect that he's tracking its magical signature. You follow along behind him, taking his lead as he weaves through the streets.
At a few points, Qilen makes a sharp turn away from the direction the construct vanished, and after the second time you ask him why.
"You remember what I said about corruption magic?" Qilen asks in answer. "Well, we'd best not run into any of that."
You reach out with your elemental power, brushing the edges of the streets and spires around you, but you can't feel a trace of anything but the fox's faint air magic and traces of people long, long gone.
[[Maybe Qilen memorized a map?|Qfindfox2]]The towers creak ominously above you, the moaning of the strained structures a chilling chorus as you trail deeper and deeper into the city. Occasionally, you come across a collapsed tower, the shattered remains blocking streets and putting dangerous levels of pressure on the spires still standing.
Eventually, the construct dashes into one of the towers. It's just as unremarkable and dilapidated as those around it, and you and Qilen have to pry off some rotting planks to get through the front door. The bottom floor is full of trash, debris and detritus from a city long dead.
You catch the tip of a glowing blue tail disappearing up the spiral stairway on the east end of the building.
[[You follow.|Qfindfox3]]"I think we may be in luck," Qilen whispers as the two of you start up the stairs. On each floor's landing, you're met with a closed and locked door and nowhere for a little fox construct to slide through. The spiral of stairs before you feels almost infinite, and a prickle of deja vu shivers through you.
You're at least ten stories up when the fox construct catches you.
It's standing in the center of the stairs, its ghostly teeth bared. Qilen's stolen trinket floats in the middle of its transparent body, caught by its internal magics.
"We're not here to harm you," Qilen says, drawing another bauble out from his coat.
[[The fox eyes it suspiciously.|Qfindfox4]]"This is what my rather penny-pinching collecting earlier was for," Qilen says under his breath as he dangles the bauble towards the fox. "There's a thousand of these creatures loosed to collect firefall finds. Many of them never find their masters-- the fools who bring them never know how to work the enchantments right."
The construct lunges forward and nips the bauble out of Qilen's hands, backing away a few steps before it shoots up the stairs.
"If you can bribe them with shiny and worthless things, they'll typically miss you removing their shiny and worthful things," Qilen stands and continues up the stairs.
[[A distant rumble sounds from below.|QSpire]]You and Qilen emerge onto a landing that opens to a balcony. The construct is in a corner, snarfing down a pile of rubbish.
"Ah drat," Qilen grumbles. "We scared it."
The construct's body is filled with trinkets and baubles now, all knotted up in the center of its torso, held in place by the wind magic enchanting it. In the mess, you can make out what looks like a silvery gauntlet-- far too large to fit on an average sized human.
And suddenly you want that gauntlet like nothing you've ever wanted before. The //need// for it pulls at the core of you, and you step forwards before you can even think.
"Shhh, shhh, no, don't scare it more. We don't want it to jump," Qilen puts his hand out in front of you.
[[How dare he stop you.|Qspire2]]
[[You ignore his words.|Qspire2]]
[[You NEED that gauntlet.|Qspire2]]Another step forwards and the rumbling from below turns into a roar, and a blast of wind bursts from the doorway, sending both you and Qilen staggering towards the edge of the balcony. The fox bolts for the door, only to be buffeted backwards towards you.
Qilen pales paper-white.
[[The magic from below feels... sickly.|Qspire3]]"Can you fly?" Qilen hisses. "Wings, air magic, //anything?//"
<<if $ElementalPower == "Air">>
[[You have air magic.|Qtowerfly]]
<</if>>
[[You have wings.|Qtowerfly]]
[[You can't fly.|Qtowerfall]]"Well then what are we waiting for!" Qilen exclaims, and shoves you over the edge. He falls with you, and the construct is blasted over the edge a heartbeat later from the corrupted air magic seething out of the tower.
You grab Qilen and fly the two of you down, away from the tower. The construct scrambles after you with its own weak air magic, and manages to cling onto Qilen's leg as you half fall, half fly.
Then the corruption blisters down the side of the tower and rips you into a hurricane.
[[You're spiraling out of control.|Qtowerwind]]"We don't have much of a choice, anyhow," Qilen grumbles. "I'll try to stop our fall but the landing will be rough."
"What do you--"
Before you can finish, Qilen shoves you over the edge of the balcony and falls after you. The fox construct is blasted over the edge a heartbeat later from the corrupted air magic seething out of the tower.
You're falling, the ground rushing up to meet you at a dizzying speed.
Then the corruption blisters down the side of the tower and rips you into a hurricane.
[[You're spiraling out of control.|Qtowerwind]]The winds rip you away from Qilen, and the construct's blue glow vanishes into the screaming storm of debris. You struggle against the current, unable to identify up or down or the edges of the storm or--
There, the gauntlet. //The gauntlet, the gauntlet, thegauntletthegauntletthegauntlet.// It calls you, singing closer and closer until a large shape crashes into you.
An arm wraps around you and you're dragged through the storm, bursting out the edge of it with blinding speed. Qilen is pressed up against you, looped in another arm. The arm is attached to a crimson skinned demon, a familiar--
[[Izre!|Qtowerwind2]]Izre pumps her wings desperately, struggling to gain both altitude and distance.
"I have to dispell the storm," she shouts over the screaming wind behind you.
"Please do!" Qilen agrees fervently, clinging onto her coat.
"I need my hands!" Izre yells. "Don't worry, I'll catch you!"
Qilen catches on a split second before you do. "No no nonononono!"
[[Izre drops you.|Ijoin]]You're falling again, caught off guard by Izre's rescue and still disoriented and dizzy from the storm.
A moment that feels like hours passes in slow motion. Above you, Izre's gesturing with her hands, casting a spell that pulls pure flame down her hands and concentrates it into what looks like a supernova. Then she releases it at the storm and folds her wings, dropping like a stone.
[[You fall.|Ijoin2]]Izre catches you in midair, snapping her wings out and pumping them desperately to slow your fall. The impact of Izre's fire element and the corruption magic reacting together shears a tower in two above you, and it falls with a roar.
Izre jaggs in midair, catching Qilen.
[[You hit the ground hard.|Ijoin3]]For a brief moment, a meteor lights the sky and you can see towers falling, silhouetted against the sky.
[[Then all you see is blackness.|Ijoin4]]"Well I think that was a bit of a close one," Qilen's voice is breathless and shaky, and you can feel his elbow pressing up against you.
"What the hell?" Izre asks. The dull impact of flesh against earth sounds in the darkness. What feels like miles above, you can hear the tower coming down around you. "I assume you're to thank for this... shield?"
You can practically hear the grin in Qilen's voice as he speaks. "You're so very welcome, darling. I don't suppose you have any coin for your dashing rescuer?"
"I think I'm the one who did most of the rescuing here," Izre says wryly. "Maybe we can share a meal."
"I would like that," Qilen responds, shifting slightly in the darkness.
[[It's good to see you, Izre.|Ijoin5]]
[[I wasn't expecting to see you again.|Ijoin5]]
[[You found your corruption magic, then?|Ijoin5]]"It is good to see you again, <<print $name>>," Izre says. "I'd not expected to meet again after you turned down my offer."
"Oh, you two know each other?" Qilen asks.
[[We met in the guild yesterday.|Ijoin6]]
[[Not really.|Ijoin6]]
[[Izre was my other firefall team offer.|Ijoin6]]"Well then if we're all going in the same direction, I do think we've proved quite a team all together," Qilen says. "I'd love to have you come along with us-- you seem to know the corruption magic better than anyone I've met. That was a powerful spell."
"You flatter me far too much," Izre says quietly. "The spell was just efficient. Not powerful. I'd not be opposed to joining you, if <<print $name>> doesn't have objections."
"I'm sure it won't bother <<cycle "$pronoun" autoselect>>
<<option "them">>
<<option "her">>
<<option "him">>
<</cycle>>," Qilen says, then opens up the earthen shield.
[[The twilight sky has never seemed more welcoming.|Ch2Interlude]]You've reached the end of Chapter 2!
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[[Continue to Chapter 3|Ch3Start]]
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[[Support us on Patreon|https://www.patreon.com/paperdemon]]The firefall soars silently above, trailing fingers of flame across the violet sky. Dusty haze swirls in around you, the trailing edges of it whipping into the tiniest dust devils as the rubble shifts and settles. Massive chunks of masonry lay scattered across the long-abandoned streets. The wind whistles high and light through the other spires around you.
The fox construct scrambles frantically out of the depression. It pauses at the rim to turn and make a furious metallic churring sound, then vanishes from view with a flick of its tail.
Qilen stands and brushes himself off, bowing deeply towards where the little creature departed. "Thank you for enjoying the show-- repeat performances will cost you."
"I believe it has already paid its due," Izre taps her foot on the ground where a pile of shiny bits of metal and old coins sits half buried in the dirt. You recognize some of the more distinctive bits from the bundle of treasure the fox had held inside it.
The gauntlet was nowhere to--
[[You're holding the gauntlet.|Ch3Travel1]]You stare at it for a long moment as Qilen sweeps in to pluck the valuable bits from the pile the fox had left.
"While I commend it for its determination, half of this is utterly worthles," the elf's chattering fades into the background as you feel the pull inside of you shift.
[[The cog. The gauntlet.|Ch3pretravel]]The feeling of them settles somewhere deep in your core and something else reaches in and takes hold. The grip is... oddly gentle. An insistent tug like someone pulling on your hand to get your attention but their hand is in your //chest//.
It's warm at first.
Almost unconsciously, you bring your hand up as if you could touch the sensation.
The hold tightens and heats into a //burn.//
[[This is, frankly, fascinating.|Ch3cool]]
[[A thrill of fear shakes you.|Ch3afraid]]
[[Anger rears up in you-- nobody can influence you like this.|Ch3anger]]Your own magic coils in you and you let it flare to life to touch the presence. It melts oddly around you, like a... handshake? Almost?
An exploratory acknowledgement in return to your own.
[[You can almost see a thread leading off into the distance.|Ch3Travel2]]The icy chill of terror almost drowns out the heat of the presence. Your mind flickers blank for a heartbeat-- //what// is happening to you? How do you get away from something that's holding onto you in a way you can't touch?
The sensation dies down a little as if the presence noticed your discomfort. It shifts slightly, and the pressure of it lightens.
[[You can almost see a thread leading off into the distance.|Ch3Travel2]]You summon up your magic with a jolt of pure rage. You //twist// it around the presence, trying to rip it out of you.
The presence... //sinks//. It doesn't diminish, not really. It just... stops being something you can touch.
[[You can almost see a thread leading off into the distance.|Ch3Travel2]]You miss a step and turn at a touch on your shoulder.
The world comes rushing back, and there's dust in the air around you and rubble beneath your feet.
Izre stands beside you, her hand pulling away slowly as you look back at her.
You can't see the fallen tower anymore. The half crumbled earthen shield Qilen had erected is nowhere in sight.
You're surrounded on all sides by spires.
"You left without us," Izre says slowly. "Is everything all right?"
[["Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry."|Ch3Travel3][$okreply = "yes"]]
[["I... I'm not sure."|Ch3Travel3][$okreply = "no"]]
[["Back off."|Ch3Travel3][$okreply = "prickly"]]<<if $okreply == "yes">>
"Yeah, I'm fine," you respond, shaking your head a bit. "Sorry. I guess I was just distracted." A chill settles over you as you realize you can't remember how you got here.
<<elseif $okreply == "prickly">>
"Back off," you growl, stepping away from her. How had you gotten here? How much time had you lost? How far had you walked?
Izre obliges, lowering her hand and stepping back.
<<elseif $okreply == "no">>
"I... I'm not sure," you trail off and shudder a bit. Did you just... did you just walk that far without realizing it? "Something's wrong."
"Can I help at all?" Izre asks. Her voice is low, gentle.
<</if>>
Qilen stands at a distance, watching with practiced disinterest. He looks away when you catch his eye. "We should get moving. We're burning daylight. Or twilight, rather, as the case may be," he says.
The cog and gauntlet feel like they're burning holes in your bag.
[[Tell them.|Tellteam][$Tellitems = true]]
[[Don't.|Ch3Travel4]]"Wait," you say. You start to talk but pause. How are you supposed to say this without sounding insane?
"I've been feeling a... pull from some artifacts I picked up," You continue after a long moment. There's no resistance-- the presence in your chest is... gone. You'd almost thought that whatever force had its claws in you might not let you talk about it. "Like they're calling to me and calling to... something else."
"That's not concerning at all," Qilen says. A loose gust of wind whips at the edges of his pristine coat. The oddness of it strikes you for a moment. You and Izre are still coated in dust and dirt from the fall, but he's perfectly clean. A combination of his own earth magic and vanity, most likely.
"I don't detect any corruption magic," Izre tilts her head and you can feel her energy spreading out to investigate. It's a soft tickle, and the edges of it are oddly frayed. She's exhausted, you realize. "That doesn't mean it's benign. May I see the artifacts?"
You back away reflexively, hand over the bag holding the items.
The wind picks up in earnest, swriling tiny dust devils between the spires around you.
"Can we possibly put this conversation on hold until we are out of the ghost town that's already tried to kill us once?" Qilen's voice is slightly strained as he brushes past you and Izre.
[[Follow|Ch3Travel4]]The artifacts can wait.
[[You walk on.|Ch3Travel5]]The shroud of tension pulls back as you leave the city. Qilen strikes up a fast paced conversation-- largely with himself-- and Izre humors him with the occasional reply or dry critique of his stories when facts don't line up.
The fox construct seems to be following you at a distance. Every now and then a flicker of blue catches in the corner of your eye. It sprints past once or twice, looping around ahead of you before vanishing when it realizes that it had been spotted.
As the hours pass, your path skims closer and closer to the dark side of the planet. The colors in the sky deepen and darken behind the firefall and the vegetation gradients out from the long grasses into plants that thrive in the darkness.
[[Qilen slows to a stop.|Ch3Travel6]]Qilen slows, bringing his hand up to the inside of his coat and then pulling it back.
"This is the place, isn't it?" Izre asks.
The shadowy twilight isn't dark enough to hide the fact that there's nothing there.
A wide field speckled with boulders, some old ruins trailing off into the darkness on the far side. There's nothing left to the structure, not really. Just a handful of low walls that are so crumbled they look like they would dissolve if you breathed on them wrong.
[["There's got to be something here."|Ch3Travel7][$findopinion = 1]]
[["This is what I've always wanted!"|Ch3Travel7][$findopinion = 2]]
[["So this was a huge waste of time."|Ch3Travel7][$findopinion = 3]]<<if $findopinion == 1>>
"How old is the fall?" You ask, taking a handful of steps forward. "Is it possible that it's buried?"
<<elseif $findopinion == 2>>
"Qilen..." You say breathlessly. "You shouldn't have! I've never wanted anything more than an empty field."
The elf narrows his eyes at you, flicking an ear in a clear dismissal.
<<elseif $findopinion == 3>>
"This was a complete waste," you say, turning away. "I should have known better."
<</if>>
Izre shuffles her wings in the long silence that follows. "We should rest. I can scan the area after I've had some time to sleep. Dispelling that... thing in the city took nearly everything I had."
"Sure," the word is short and sharp, and Qilen follows it up by stalking off. He leaps up onto the nearest boulder and settles into a cross legged position, whipping the map out of his coat and pouring over it in the half dark.
[[Help Izre set camp.|Izcamp][$teampref = "Izre"]]
[[Help Qilen with the map.|Qchat][$teampref = "Qilen"]]You fall into step beside Izre.
"I believe it would be best if we set up around those boulders," she indicates a rough circle configuration. "The predators on this planet won't typically approach people, but I do prefer having something solid against my back while I'm in the field."
You nod in agreement.
<<if $izmeh lt 2>>
"Thank you for traveling with me," Izre's tone is serious. "It gets... lonely, I suppose. Working on my own. There are few who look kindly on the research of dangerous magics and fewer still who are willing to approach the subject with any level of measured thought."
[["As long as you're being careful it's fine."|Izcamp1]]
[["I don't really approve of it."|Izcamp1]]
[["It's a passion of mine as well."|Izcamp1][$darkmagic = true]]
<<else>>
"You can set your own arrangments," Izre continues coolly.
Something sort of... pops in the air around you.
One second, you're standing halfway down a field of mosses and mushrooms and boulders--
[[--and the next...|ShipFind]]
<</if>><<if $darkmagic == true>>
"I would be beyond honored if you would like to continue to work with me," Izre says quietly. "We've not known each other for long, but I would like to know you better."
<<else>>
"Fair enough," Izre nods.
<</if>>
Something sort of... pops in the air around you.
One second, you're standing halfway down a field of mosses and mushrooms and boulders--
[[--and the next...|ShipFindI]]Qilen doesn't acknowledge you as you approach. He's picking at one of the rings on his hand, scowling at the map.
"May I see?" You ask.
"See //what?//" He snaps. "There's nothing here."
Qilen stuffs the map back into his coat and skids down the boulder, landing heavily on a patch of glowing mushrooms. The fungi dissovle into a soft gold mist, sparkling and rippling through the air like a small galaxy.
"I bet //everything// on this," he runs his hand through his hair. One of the chains catches and he yanks it free with a pained hiss. "Yes, yes, there's still time, the fire still falls, but I am sick of fighting for scraps."
[["What can I do to help?"|Qchat1][$Qchatq = 1]]
[["Why is this so important to you?"|Qchat1][$Qchatq = 2]]
[["This is just as important to me."|Qchat1][$Qchatq = 3]]<<if $Qchatq == 1>>
"Qilen..." You trail off when he looks sharply at you, his eyes flinty and harsh.
There's a lull in the firefall above, the ember bright glow flagging and fading, leaving Qilen's eyes glinting in shadow.
"Qilen is there anything I can do to help?" You forge onwards.
His face twitches into a brief snarl, but he only holds it for a split second before his shoulders sag.
"Magic me up a fortune, <<print $pctitle>>," he mutters.
<<elseif $Qchatq == 2>>
"Why is this so important to you?" You ask.
"Why is this--" Qilen's voice goes high with disbelief. "I can't run forever. I'm tired. I just.... I just want this to be over."
<<elseif $Qchatq == 3>>
Was he just? Giving up?
"This is just as important to me," you say.
Qilen glances over at you, eyes narrow. "If that's true then you'll do anything to see this through."
<</if>>
Qilen scoops a fist sized rock off the ground and hauls back. He stops and paces a few steps away, bringing his hand down and staring at the rock. "I thought I might just... be able to fix everything this time."
Before you can ask him what he means, he whirls around and whips the rock across the field. It flies in a soft arc--
[[And disappears.|ShipFindQ]]You jolt to a stop a half second before Izre does.
"//Oh,//" Izre breathes.
[[The call inside you flares bright|ship1]]It doesn't disappear off into the darkness. It disappears straight out of midair as if it had never existed.
"//Oh,//" Qilen breathes. "Oh I am a //fool.//"
He breaks into a jog and stops abruptly just short of where the rock disappeared. "Ohohoh, can you feel //that?//"
There's an odd magical ripple hanging somewhere just out of arm's reach and the air smells of ozone. A... shield? A barrier?
Qilen steps forward and vanishes into thin air.
[[After a second, you follow.|ship1]]The landscape around you ripples oddly. The air smells spark-sharp like lightning as the world resolves into...
A gaping hole in the ground.
Twisted metal rims the edges, an archway of ribs reaching up towards the sky like the bones of an ancient beast. It takes you a long minute to realize that you're looking at half a space ship buried in the ground. Moss grows on the surface of it, some of it hanging down off the ribs and flowering into bioluminescent mushrooms.
"That... wasn't there before," you note breathlessly.
"Hah!" Qilen shouts out a sharp laugh. "Look at this //beauty.//"
"If this site had already been discovered the magic would have been drained," Izre's voice is reverent as she steps up to the lip of the open hull of the ship. The floor is steep, but not sheer. The majority of the ship is underground.
[[You feel something... odd.|ship2]]Izre and Qilen's chattering fades into the background and the edges of your vision darken.
The blue figure from your dream wavers in the gaping maw of the half of the ship.
It becons.
[[You follow.|ship22]]The interior of the ship is dark but decadent. Plants grow up through cracks in the floor. Places where there was probably fabric upholstery have blossomed into nests of mushrooms and moss.
A small two legged animal springs frantically away from you, startled by your footsteps.
It all feels faded around you, like you're walking through a dream.
[[The figure stops beside a sealed door.|ship3]]You recognize the mechanism-- while much of it is physical, the type of lock is largely actually operated by magic. The spell circuit is broken off to the side-- space for a single cog is there.
And the cog is in your hand.
You don't remember taking it out of your bag.
[[Put the cog in.|doorlock]]
[[No, this is far too dangerous.|doorlock][$coglock = "fear"]]
[[No, not until you learn more.|doorlock][$coglock = "info"]]<<if $coglock == "fear">>
The dreams, the visions, the //influence.// You don't know what's in your head. You don't know what's behind the door. If it was safe, why was it locked up? Why does it want //you?//
<<elseif $coglock == "info">>
Forewarned is forearmed. There must be answers somewhere on this ship. You weren't going to //start// with opening the door.
<<else>>
You reach towards the door, turning the cog over in your hand to match the angle of the lock.
<</if>>
"What is this?" you ask the figure.
It slips sideways, fading through the door. The grip on your insides tightens, a molten hand around your core.
"Everything okay?" Izre asks. You startle a bit, flinching away.
[["Yeah, sorry, I was distracted."|doorlock2]]
[["I... thought I saw something."|doorlock2]]
[["I am actively being haunted."|doorlock2][$haunted = true]]<<if $haunted == true>>
"Spooky," Qilen says, continuing down the hall behind Izre without so much as pausing. "Eventide is a planet of ghosts any way you look at it."
"I can't sense corruption here," Izre touches your shoulder gently.
<<else>>
"Yeah," you shake your head. "Sorry. My head's somewhere else."
<</if>>
Izre traces her hands around the edges of the door.
"Any idea what's in there?" You ask.
"No," she replies thoughtfully. "It's... sealed? I know my magic isn't at its best right now but it seems to be shielded against magical intrusion. We can come back later."
[[Explore the rest of the ship.|exploreship]]It becomes clear very quickly that this ruin is largely if not entirely untouched by sentient hands since it fell. There is no shortage of valuables-- and no shortage of destruction. Izre immediately declares herself in charge of any remains, giving Qilen a pointed stare over it.
Qilen makes a handful of quips about ghosts, his dour mood from earlier dissolved entirely as he picks through the debris.
[[Finders keepers.|exploreshipQ]]
[[It's... Uncomfortable walking in a grave like this.|exploreshipI]]Qilen's practiced ease at looting is impressive, to say the least. A chain of moss falls to the floor with a soft //paff// as he pries open a half sealed door. Whenever you move past an area you've picked over, Qilen skims after you. Occasionally he turns up something you had missed.
His pack is small, but the loose drawstring at the top allows the mouth of it to open surprisingly large. The enchantment inside is an easily perceptible dimension door-- you can't quite tell if the spell is locationally locked to the bag or if it's simply a portal to another location. The latter would be smart considering his proclivities. Dispell the enchantment and the door closes-- his haul would be safe even if someone took the bag.
"Don't worry, I'll carry all of it," Qilen's face splits into a lazy cheshire grin when he notices your gaze. "We can split it up once we're back in the city.""
[["That's fine," you agree.|exploreshipQ2][$splitloot = false]]
[["I'd rather we split it now."|exploreshipQ2][$splitloot = true]]
[["Do you really think I'm that stupid?"|exploreshipQ2][$splitloot = true]]<<if $splitloot == false>>
You nod agreeably. He holds what he finds, you hold what you find. If you end this on good terms you can pool and evenly split the loot-- otherwise you'll each have what you picked up.
Qilen flashes you a bright smile.
<<elseif $splitloot == true>>
"Hah," you say. "Have you met yourself?"
Qilen laughs brightly. "Fair enough, my friend. Help me collect the shiniest bits and we'll sort them out here."
<</if>>
The ship is far larger beneath the ground than you had expected, even considering how broad the original opening was. Qilen's path is almost erratic-- he keeps picking hallways and doors at random as far as you can tell. There are several unopened and untraversed areas behind you as you go deeper. You follow behind partially for his company and partially to keep track of him.
[[Next.|QSUNDOGS]]Qilen vanishes down a corridor the moment you take your eyes off of him. If you stretch out your senses, you can feel the trailing edges of his magic working farther down into the ship-- he seems to be going as deep as possible instead of methodically clearing the ship one room at a time.
You fall back to trail along with with Izre. She keeps flicking out her magic to scan the area, but it sputters and dies mere heartbeats after she summons it. Her growing frustration is written into the tension in her shoulders. Her wings are pinned tight against her spine save for the occasional irritated shake to rid herself of dislodged moss from the ceiling.
"These datapads will be fascinating to read if I can get them up and running," she says at length, settling in to shuffle through a broken open trunk. "The old magic that was built into these is truly fascinating. It's far more complex than the datapads we tend to use now-- these all have individual enchantments. It's likely each of these was made by their owner."
"It's different from modern magic," you agree. It's like reading in another language that is just similar enough to one you speak that you could get the gist of it.
[[Next.|ISUNDOGS]]The corridors of the ship are distinctive at this level. Even considering the level of overgrowth and destruction, you can tell that it had been rather gaudily decorated before its demise. Fragments of color and odd decorative doorways serve as landmarks as you and Izre progress towards the bridge.
A distinctive, mischevious glimmer sparkles in the doorway of the room you and Izre are investigating.
The fox construct peers its head around the corner. It stares at you for a long moment, holding perfectly still.
"Careful," Izre chuckles. "It'll steal everything you've got if you let it."
The fox barks a high, oddly mechanical noise and bolts into the room. It creeps towards your feet and jumps, snagging a fragment of a shattered chandelier off the ground beside you and horfing it down. The twisted piece of metal floats at the center of the construct's magically animated form. It watches you for a reaction for a long second, then freezes.
It whips around and sniffs the air--
[[And dispells its magical form.|ISUNDOGS2]]The fox's metal skull clatters to the floor, whisping magic. The piece of metal that had been suspended inside it falls to the ground next to it.
"What--?" You pick up the construct's enchanted core.
Izre scrambles to her feet behind you.
Qilen's voice sounds out from the hallway.
[["RUN!"|SUNDOGRUN]]Qilen's path leads you deep into the bowels of the ship. The dessicated rooms you'd found above give way to plain steel halls, surprisingly more intact than the areas more towards the surface.
"Wouldn't it be more productive to check the areas passengers would have been?" You ask as Qilen rattles a heavily rusted maintenence door.
"Yes well, it'll be there later," Qilen mutters. "A ship this size and style? there has to be a cargo hold somewhere down here."
Qilen adjusts the rings on his fingers, rearranging them and unhooking some of the chains to latch them onto different rings. When he finishes, he holds his hands on either side of the lock and //twists.// The door comes open and reveals a narrow hallway. Qilen dusts off his hands, the chains around his fingers clinking.
Before you can move, the fox construct barrels out of the darkness and bounces off of your shin. It lets out a high pitched squeal and dispels the magic making up its body. Its metal core clatters to the ground.
You reach down and pick it up. "How did you get down--"
Shimmering pinpricks of ghostly smoke materialize deep in the darkness of the hallway.
They take shape as they get closer.
"Oh sh--"
[[Then you feel it. Corruption.|QSUNDOGS2]]Qilen wrenches the door half-shut just before the skeletal jaws snap shut inches from his face. The hissing smoke of corruption magic seeps through the edges of the door, reaching and clawing desperately as Qilen reels backwards to slam against the wall.
"Go go gogogogo!" Qilen shouts, shoving you back the way you came. You stumble, watching as a bony paw scrabbles through the narrow opening in the door.
You bolt down the hallways back towards Izre and the surface.
[[Run.|SUNDOGRUN]]"What did you //do?//" Izre shouts as Qilen sprints past.
"Just go!" Qilen snaps.
The clatter of bones and roaring hiss of corruption cascades down the halls behind you in a hurricane as the three of you run past the ship's bridge and down the main corridor.
<<if $Qflirt lt $Iflirt>>
<<set $bite = "Izre">>
<<elseif $Iflirt lt $Qflirt>>
<<set $bite = "Qilen">>
<<elseif $Qflirt == $Iflirt>>
<<set $bite = $teampref>>
<</if>>
[[Next.|Dogfight1]]Qilen slams to a stop in front of you and you barely manage to not crash into him. The moss beneath your feet slips, sending you slamming into the wall.
"No-- back back back--" He shoves you back past Izre as the corruption howls down towards you. "Up! We have to go to the front!"
"There's no exit that way!" Izre yells.
"If you want to run through the death cloud," Qilen gestures backwards. "Be my guest!"
The three of you retreat back towards the bridge of the ship.
[[You're not trained to fight. Defend as best as you can.|Dogfight2][$fightstyle = "defend"]]
[[You'd rather defend and support your allies.|Dogfight2][$fightstyle = "support"]]
[[You've never been good at fighting, but you'll do your best.|Dogfight2][$fightstyle = "bad"]]
[[You can hold your own in a fight.|Dogfight2][$fightstyle = "competent"]]
[[This is going to be a breeze.|Dogfight2][$fightstyle = "badass"]]The corruption magic //burns// your senses as Qilen summons his magic to shut the bridge doors. It doesn't last long.
The door bends inwards at the mercy of a cascade of impacts, the corruption sizzing around the edges of the frame. Half of it comes down and the skeletal beasts //pour// in.
Sundogs-- long dead. Some of them are missing... parts. Some of them are hardly more than a handful of bones-- a rib here, some vertebra, little else. The corruption magic fills the gaps, smokey construct limbs whisping with corrupted magic that turns silver in a sick mockery of sundog's glowing coats. Constructs of some sort? How?
<<if $fightstyle == "defend">>
You summon up your magic, backing towards the console Qilen's perched himself on. You construct a basic shield of <<print $ElementalPower>> magic, the console at your back. A spilt second after you establish the shield, Qilen springs over your head, hitting the ground and rolling gracefully as he whips out a pair of daggers.
The blades of the daggers hum as he summons scything wind to run down their length, extending them out into swords of air. Then he whips around and //runs.//
Before you can react, the first of the sundogs bolts past Izre and slams its glowing body into your shield. Your magic holds as the beast snaps its jaws, clawing at the barrier.
Qilen appears behind it, bisecting it with his air swords.
<<elseif $fightstyle == "support">>
You summon up your magic, bringing your <<print $ElementalPower>> magic to bear to create shields or distractions when one of the dogs gets too close. Qilen springs off the console he'd perched himeslf on, hitting the ground and rolling gracefully as he whips out a pair of daggers.
The blades of the daggers hum as he summons scything wind to run down their length, extending them out into swords of air.
You expand your focus to compliment both Izre and Qilen's fighting-- wielding your magic with precise and devastating effect.
<<elseif $fightstyle == "bad">>
<<set $bite = "PC">>
You summon up your magic and ready your stance, bracing yourself as the first of the sundogs bolts past Izre. Your <<print $ElementalPower>> magic springs to your hands and a blast of it sends the sundog flying backwards.
Maybe you can do this? You can do this!
A heavy form crashes into you from the side, and corrupted black jaws snap at your face. The startled jolt of magic you summon doesn't phase it at all.
Then Qilen's standing over you, a dagger laced with scything wind to extend their length clutched in each hand. "Stay behind me!"
<<elseif $fightstyle == "competent">>
You summon up your magic and join the fray-- you and Qilen on the ground while Izre fills in any gaps you leave.
<<print $ElementalPower>> magic ripples down your arms and snaps to your command. Qilen wields a pair of daggers, extended to sword length by the scything wind magic he summons along their edges. He's fast-- and clever. He adapts to your fighting style without blinking, staying out of your way and crushing the bones of the corrupted sundogs with devastating accuracy.
<<elseif $fightstyle == "badass">>
Your <<print $ElementalPower>> magic leaps at your command, and you stride forward into the fray. Your magic cuts down the sundogs with practiced ease, and you adapt perfectly to Qilen and Izre fighting at your side. The corruption from the sundogs slides sickeningly smoothly against your own magic, and you turn it away, redirecting it to snap at the sundogs hosting it.
Qilen misses a step, and you whip around to fill the gap in his guard.
<</if>>
[[The pack seems to thin at first.|Dogfight3]]You catch your breath during a brief lull in the fighting, only for the inky ripples of corruption to catch your eye off to the edge of the bridge. The magic wraps around the fallen form of a sundog, bringing it back to its feet. The creature moves jaggedly, the bones that make up its leg nearly dust. The magic hasn't quite compensated yet.
"Can you dispell this?" Qilen shouts. "This isn't working!"
"I can't!" Izre snaps back, kicking a sundog out of midair as it leaps towards you.
<<if $cont == true>>
[[You may be able to contain it.|Dogfight4][$holdcorruption = true]]
<</if>>
[[You need to run.|Dogfight4]]<<if $holdcorruption == true>>
You might be able to contain the corruption driving the sundogs, but you're going to need some space.
"Hold them off!" you shout, backing towards the head of the bridge. Izre and Qilen close ranks ahead of you.
You yank open your bag, digging through to find anything that would hold enough magic to work as a vessel.
[[Use the fox construct's core.|CorruptContain][$vessel = "fox construct's core"]]
[[Use the gauntlet.|CorruptContain][$vessel = "gauntlet"]]
[[Use the cog.|CorruptContain][$vessel = "cog"]]
<<else>>
"We have to get out of here!" you shout.
"Agreed," Izre clips out.
Qilen's swords flash out one more time, and he summons a blast of air that sends the sundogs skidding backwards.
[[Retreat.|Retreat]]
<</if>><<if $vessel == "fox construct's core">>
The fox construct's core already holds magic-- a vessel primed for the exact purpose you need. The corruption magic might destroy the enchantment that created the fox or it might not. No time to ponder the consequences.
<<elseif $vessel == "gauntlet">>
The gauntlet is the largest of the magical artifacts you've collected from the planet so far-- therefore the most likely to be able to hold enough corruption magic to create a pack of zombie dogs.
<<elseif $vessel == "cog">>
The cog had magical properties of some sort-- it could clearly be infused with magic. It could also blow up in your face. No time to ponder the consequences.
<</if>>
You channel your magic into an envelope around the <<print $vessel>>, and reach out to //call// the corruption magic in the sundogs. The magic is crackly like static, slippery like blood, cold and burning and--
The corruption magic screams through the air towards you in a vortex of crackling smoke.
The impact of the magic into the vessel sends you stumbling back.
[[And the world explodes around you.|shipcorruption]]You //run.//
Qilen measures his pace to keep just beside you. The magic across his swords flickers down, and the daggers are just daggers again.
Izre is flagging, half stumbling to keep up.
You clear just enough of a space in the horde to make it out into the hallway. <<print $bite>> stumbles as a pannel of flooring collapses. A sundog scythes straight through your defenses, rearing back and //snapping// down on <<print $bite>>'s arm.
<<print $bite>> screams.
You throw a desperate blast of <<print $ElementalPower>> magic, throwing the beast backwards.
[[And the world explodes around you.|shipburn]]The <<print $vessel>> //blazes// in your hands. The corruption bites and thrashes at your magic, struggling like a trapped animal as the <<print $vessel>> violently rejects it.
You fall backwards, yanking your magic away before you can be shredded between the two forces.
The corruption magic sweeps back into the sundogs' bones, raising them back up and sending them charging at you anew.
[[You scramble away.|shipburn]]There's an odd twist in the air around you, and with an almost imperceptable //snap//, the landscape //shifts//.
[[A familiar figure stands before you.|ghostship]]Time...
[[Slows.|ghostship1]]A W A K E N.... M E....
[[Next|ghostship2]]The figure points.
There isn't a single catch in your step as you turn to follow its gesture. Izre and Qilen are shouting something behind you, but you can't hear their words.
[[You arrive at the sealed room.|ghostship3]]Everything is... oddly still around you.
<<print $bite>> is struggling to keep up, half curled over the smoking wound.
The sundogs are moving almost in slow motion as they sprint after you, their jaws flickering with the slow roll of smokey corruption magic.
The //pull// inside of you rears its head.
The cog. The gauntlet. The //ship//.
Whatever has been calling you....
[[...is here.|ghostship4]]Without thinking, you insert the cog into the door.
The world comes crashing back down around you.
The screaming howl of corruption magic drowns out Izre and Qilen's shouts. Moss and mushrooms whip past beneath the pressure of the corruption magic and Qilen's magic trying desperately to shield the three of you. Izre is barely on her feet. You can feel the raw edges of her magic sparking like flint-- she's trying to cast but //can't.//
Qilen slams against the door, shaking it with all of his strength.
It stays closed.
On instinct, you press a thread of your magic into the mechanism.
[[The door groans open.|Unlockdoor]]The spell flares to life and the door groans as it slides back a little. It gets stuck halfway into the frame and grinds to a halt.
It's wide enough to see through, but the room beyond is dark. You shove Izre through a heartbeat after Qilen bolts in, and you follow. You reverse the touch on the spell, and the door grinds shut again.
The three of you stand panting in the dark for a long moment.
"Th- the seal is intact," Izre gasps out. You hear a thump from her direction.
Qilen mutters something in a language you don't recognize, and a second later the rings and chains on his hands flare with light.
[[You're standing in an armory.|Armory]]Izre's on the floor, trying to catch her breath. Behind her is a massive set of armor, tipped slightly to rest against the wall of the alcove it's in. One of the gauntlets has come off and is half crushed in the crumpled flooring beneath it. The curves and lines of the armor are... familiar.
They match the gauntlet in your bag.
<<print $bite>> breathes shakily. Corruption sizzles in the wound, sinking into the skin around the bite.
"That... Doesn't look good," Izre says tightly.
"You can't dispell that, can you?" Qilen's voice is flat. He knows the answer.
"Corruption is binding magic," Izre takes a deep breath. "This isn't a... scientific problem. This is a medical issue. The corruption isn't just physical."
"How much time do we have?" you ask.
Izre's shrug is barely visible. She leans her head back against the armor. Her horns //ting// gently against the metal. "No idea."
[[Pinpricks of blue flame flicker to life inside the depths of the helm.|armory2]]You double take and the eyes are gone.
Izre squints. "This is a construct."
She hauls herself up to her feet, bracing herself against the edge of the alcove. "I've never seen an ancient one of this size. This is.... incredible."
Qilen scoffs from the opposite side of the room. "It's too big to carry. Let's see what in here still works for when those dogs come through the door."
[["What was this construct made to do?"|constructq]]"I have absolutely no idea," Izre says. "Outside of the physical form, which does imply some type of guard function, I would need quite a bit of time to piece together the internal spellwork while part of it is destroyed like this."
"So if we wake it up and it doesn't like us being on its ship it might kill us?" Qilen asks.
Izre shrugs. "I can't sense a power core in it."
"Meaning we'd need to feed it magic for it to fully activate," you finish.
Qilen yanks something that looks like a grenade off of a hook on the wall. "Think we can blow them up and run past while they're putting themselves back together?"
[[You can hear the animated bones still scrabbling against the door.|Armorydiscuss]]<<if $bite == "Izre">>
Izre lets out a long breath, cradling her arm against her chest. Her wings are bent forwards, half cocooning her.
"Well and good for the both of you-- you can run," she says. "I would strongly appreciate a plan that doesn't leave me here to be slowly consumed by caustic magic."
<<elseif $bite == "Qilen">>
Qilen hums under his breath and holds his injured arm rigid at his side. His leg crumples beneath him and he collapses against the wall.
"Ah," he says softly. "That's not ideal."
<</if>>
The tug on your core is insistent now, flaring back to life in a shuddering escalation of heat. You can feel the construct's eyes on you even though you're half turned away from it. //This// is what it wants from you.
You take the gauntlet out of your bag and shift it around in your grasp.
[[Activate the construct.|ActivateCon]]
[[Don't.|Dontactivate]]The screaming of the corruption magic outside the door is a low level barrage of white noise as you step towards the construct. You touch the severed wrist, pulling the empty end up to face you. The armor is hollow inside, scrawled with runes and sigils. They're quiet-- no power runs through them. The circuit of them is broken.
The gauntlet you brought slides in perfectly with a small //snikt//.
The construct is still.
Moving on instinct, you press your hand against the construct's chest and channel a steady stream of <<print $ElementalPower>> magic through it.
[[It shudders awake.|ActivateCon2]]It's... too risky. You don't know //what// the construct is or how it //works// or--
Izre snatches the gauntlet out of your hand.
She's steadier on her feet now, a blade in her hand that you didn't know she had.
"We //need// this, <<print $name>>," She says urgently. The blade is low at her side, but she's tensed and ready to react. "This is our only way out."
"You don't even know if that's going to //kill// us!" Qilen hisses.
Izre snaps the gauntlet in place.
[[You feel the barrier at the door drop.|ACTIVATE3]]"<<print $name>>, what are you doing?" Qilen asks slowly.
The spell barrier sealing the door flickers.
[[You feel the barrier drop.|ACTIVATE3]]The magic from the barrier comes roaring through the bones of the ship. The cascading iridescence coalesces into the construct.
Blue eyes flash to life inside of the helm, and the construct pries itself away from the wall. Crackling shadow like black flame snaps behind it.
"What the //hell?//" Qilen yelps, scrambling backwards as the construct collapses forwards.
The construct //pulls// on your magic. Its hand reaches out towards you, and you pull back, snapping the connection with your magic and reeling back to stand over <<print $bite>>.
[[The construct struggles to stand.|ConstructDrain]]"It needs power," you say. "<<print $bite>>, give it your arm!"
"We don't know what it //does//!" Qilen scrambles back towards the door.
"That... Might work," Izre breathes.
"Might //what?//" Qilen abandons the grenade and goes for his blades.
"It's--" Izre pauses as the corruption slams against the unsealed door. "It drains local magic to function as long as it doesn't have a power core. It might eat the corruption."
"To hell with it," Qilen hisses.
<<print $bite>> raises the injured arm, letting the construct catch it in its grasp.
[[The construct devours the magic.|ConstructAttack]]<<print $bite>>'s face drops in horror as the construct stays latched on, dragging out the corruption and then it //keeps// dragging.
The door //crunches//.
The construct snaps to a stand, dropping <<print $bite>> as the corrupted sundogs scramble through the half-smashed door. It raises its fists and slams them forwards. The howl of the corruption twists high in pitch, whistling as the construct absorbs it. The magic struggles and snaps, dropping the bones of the sundogs on the ground as it slithers and flails in the construct's grasp.
The liquid smoke flows across the construct's form, sinking in and //screaming//. A snap of white hot electricity crackles across the construct's shoulders as the differing magics combine inside it.
You dive forwards and grab <<print $bite>>, dragging the two of you towards the door. You stumble through the hallways, bursting out onto the surface as the confluence of magic behind you flares into an inferno of power that rips through the bones of the ship.
[[Get clear of the ship.|ConDepart]]You and Izre and Qilen collapse out onto the dirt, golden mushrooms crumpling into floating rivers of light motes beneath you.
The ship... //melts.//
There's no other word to describe it. The metal //runs//, liquid steel dripping and sizzling through the moss and plant life. The great ribs of the ship collapse inwards, the ground shaking as half of the ground around the maw of the ship caves in. There's no //heat//, but you can feel the pure power flowing through the structure in front of you.
In a spray of metal and debris, the construct //rockets// up through the mess of it, arcing twenty feet in the air before slamming down on the ground at the opposite side of the rim.
[[It turns to you.|ConEnd]]The construct's eyes are violet. Smoke and shadow cascades off of it like a cloak. It meets your gaze for a long, breathless moment.
Then it ripples and vanishes from sight.
For a long time, the only sound is dripping metal.
"I don't think that's going to cause any problems ever," Qilen says, voice shaky behind the saracastic bravado.
"I'm... not sure that's supposed to be powered by corruption magic," Izre drops onto her back with a long sigh.
[["Did it get rid of the corruption?"|FinalConvo]]"Did it eat all the corruption magic?" You ask <<print $bite>>.
<<print $bite>> investigates the wound. "I believe so? I'm... not sure."
[["I need to know what that was."|InvestigateCon]]
[["We have to find it and stop it."|Findstop]]
[["That's not our problem anymore."|Whatever]]"That //power,//" you start. "I have to know more. What //was// that?"
"I'd like to know the answer to that as well," Izre says. "Its signature is... distinct, to say the least. I can track it."
"It's your funeral," Qilen stands, dusting his clothing off briefly.
[[Next.|Finale]]"We have to find that thing and //stop// it," you say. "We have no idea what we just let loose."
"What //you all// just let loose," Qilen grumbles. "Count me out."
"I'll go with you," Izre says. "Its signature is... distinct, to say the least. I can track it."
[[Next.|Finale]]"That's over now," you note, staring towards the pit where the ship continues to melt.
"That's only just started," Izre says, a tinge of excitement behind the exhaustion in her voice. "What //was// that? The power was incredible."
Qilen lets out a long groan and stands, dusting his clothing off briefly. "That is absolutely //none// of my business."
[[Next.|Finale]]The firefall streaks above unabated.
Qilen paces a few steps away, then loops back towards where you and Izre rest on the ground. With a huff, he settles down onto the ground beside you.
"We'll figure this out in the morning," he says.
"There is no morning here," Izre huffs out a half of a laugh.
And the world continues to not turn.
[[Fin.|Outro]]You've reached the end of the Eventide Campaign!
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