Complete 18+ Private Quest Pormont [Reaping Season I] The Treachery

[Ayna Nietzsche]

ILMEA'S LAMENT
Aboard the Mizar

Spoiler: Theme

⋇⊶⊰✦⊱⊷⋇

The eerie calm before the storm of blackened wings.

For the past few days, Ayna Nietzsche has come to call Ilmea's Lament her home, though she often stays close to the coast of Dunnstads. The Mizar, her moderately sized fishing boat, needed more experience out in the sea, and with her crew of four, already including herself, they wasted no time in solving that puzzle. She was yawning at the stern, line out into the waters, when she received the message from @Kamala Graham. Ayna eagerly read it, confused when it ended up being vague.

"Ravens in Vikform, Pormont... Fly with me?"

Kamala had never been vague or cryptic. She was always straight to the point, or if not because she thought she was about to offend someone, at the very least not this mysterious. Heaving a sigh, Ayna straightened up in her seat and immediately contacted her friend through her UI. No response. Must be busy at the moment. Otherwise, Kamala would have been quick to answer. She never missed an opportunity to catch up. That or something was wrong. In which case...

"Time to sail for land, hoes! Your Captain's needed elsewhere!"

Almost immediately, three sets of "aye, aye, Captain!" boomed throughout the ship, and soon she was sailing in the direction of Pormont. Where the fuck is Vikform? Ayna would need to travel by land as soon as they reached the shore. Pormont wasn't a region near the coast, and the purple-haired Beastfolk thought the actual place she had to go to would be farther inland. She'd know soon enough when Kamala would be available for a less strange exchange of words. For now, she decided to contemplate what those words mean and if the message was indeed meant for her. Just her.

@Chrys

 

[Kamala Graham]

‧͙⁺˚･❀･˚⁺͙‧

At Viridian Fields

Kamala and the rest of the farmers at Viridian Fields, both Landers and Travelers alike, had the benefit of traits and masteries to help them with their harvest, which they were able to finish much earlier than the rest of Falderen. At least that's what she was able to gather from a passing farmer from Vikform. The man traveled far and wide to seek out help, citing the age of the villagers not being helpful to the season of reaping. That wasn't what caught Kamala's attention, though, as the other friendly farmers of the Fields pledged their assistance to the stranger. It was the thing involving a nearby windmill with a treachery of raven visitors.

"Can you tell me more about the windmill and the ravens?"

When the man obliged, Kamala listened intently, her face growing more and more concerned by the second. Somehow, in some way, she felt something strange about the described place and its current predicament, as if it was connected to her past failure, her first death. Of course, it could just be her own fears and insecurities. Swarms, groups of creatures banding together to bully one thing, have been a bane to her and her peace since the events of the Red Fever. Connected or not, it reminded her of her own plight, and so she immediately sent a missive to her friends, a call to action for whoever was interested.

Mail

"Ravens in Vikform, Pormont... Fly with me?"

@Ayna Nietzsche @Chrys

Party

Kamala Graham has invited you to join their party.

The mail came first but was followed almost immediately by the party invite. Kamala wasn't ready to take on anything alone, and based on her last experience, it would only lead to her ruin. Well, second ruin. The first was enough. She'd rather not relive all that horror.

"If everyone's ready, let's go!"

As soon as she could, and after bidding her fellow farmers farewell, some of them joining her to Vikform to help with the harvest, Kamala set out for the windmill and its ravens. She did not want to waste any more time, and her friends on the farm were all set to help the stranger as well. The journey would not cost them much, and together, they would make it fun. At least until they arrived and had to part ways. Until Kamala had to deal with the treachery of the farm's abandoned structure.

 

[Chrys]

《⋯《 ⋯ ❖ ⋯ 》⋯》

Somewhere in Lyrwick, within one of the many mining tunnels

Chrys heaved a sigh in exhaustion, sweat trickling down the side of his face. He took a few steps back, finding a stone outcropping to sit on, and wiped his brow free of the salty liquid. Turning to his companions, he watched both Ishmael and Gio continue their work without even breaking a sweat. Man, I need to keep up with these landers. Even with his stats, the real-world lawyer was no match for the fervor of those who lived the mines.

And then he got @Kamala Graham's message. Vikform? Huh. Chrys heaved another sigh, propping himself up, back to his feet. Shaking his head, he began packing his things, not even looking back at his men when he addressed them, though he felt them turn to him for at least the briefest of moments before returning back to their work.

"It seems I'm needed elsewhere, friends. I'll go on ahead. Feel free to stay as long as you like, and partake in the few delights Lyrwick has to offer, courtesy of Wicked's Rest Tavern and Funeral Parlor: No need to continue working while I'm gone."

And then he was...gone. When the girls called, even just one of them, he'd drop anything to help them. He assumed there would be others, not just him and Kamala, though he expected more than just @Ayna Nietzsche. The three of them made for a great team, but it had been too long since he'd shared an adventure with Leyna, Elias, and Samantha. Where are those who share the memory?

 

[Ayna Nietzsche]

⋇⊶⊰✦⊱⊷⋇

The eerie calm before the storm of blackened wings.

As per usual, Ayna was the first to arrive at their supposed meeting place. Vikform didn't look like anything distinct or special, at least when compared to the rest of Pormont, at least in her uneducated opinion. Unlike @Kamala Graham who spent her days in the region, and seemed to have fallen in love with its rolling golden fields of wheat and other farming stuff, Ayna barely gave this place a second look. She started out in Lyrwick, the supposed Lightning of Lyrwick, before finishing her own fishing boat and moving into Dunnstads. All this peace would be wasted on the girl who could never settle anywhere.

Looking around, she failed to notice most of the people in the village seemed to be...old. Why would she? She doesn't really care about these people. They were not her people. She was just here to help her closest friend, and maybe a few others, for some gold or whatever else is there that could be scrounged up as treasure or the like.

Heaving a sigh, she decided to zoom on a nearby building's roof to get a vantage point for when the others would arrive, just like a pirate would in their crow's nest. She was too concerned with meeting her friends that she didn't even think about the abandoned windmill looming in the distance. How could she? She had zero Awareness and zero Knowledge...and zero time for Kamala being cryptic with that message. Ugh, being first has too many cons sometimes.

@Chrys

Rolls

Expertise Check
1d100 (36) + 0 = 36 (Poor)
Awareness | Ayna Nietzsche | 1254

Play Sheet

 

[Kamala Graham]

‧͙⁺˚･❀･˚⁺͙‧

Meeting in Vikform

Arriving at the village of Vikform, Kamala was, like most people, quick to notice the rolling golden fields of wheat that were very characteristic of the region of Pormont itself. The problem was, as another Viridian Fields farmer pointed out, everyone else in the village seemed to be much older and very few were young enough to carry them toward a productive future. Kamala didn't really put much stock into that problem, as she was there for something else. Assured by her companions that they would help with the village's manpower concerns as much as they could, Kamala proceeded on her own to where her destination should be.

As far as Kamala had gathered, the thing about the windmill was that it was once owned by a family, then abandoned when that same family inherited land out in Finweald. That wasn't the most interesting part. Families tend to move whenever greener pastures are offered to them, and judging by Vikform's lack of youthful vibrancy, that family's decision was perhaps made easy. The interesting part was the treachery of ravens—yes, that's what a group of ravens is called apparently (well, the more interesting of the terms allowed)—that visited the abandoned windmill on a daily basis. Why? That's what we're here to find out.

Walking through the village, Kamala made sure she was seen by her allies, mostly through her worn Yladian Robe (Light Armor) that no one else should be wearing in this place. Unless of course they somehow had procured the same outfit, which would be very rare, especially in this place. Or at least she hoped that was the case. Kamala made sure to not wear anything over the robe, as she believed that obscuring the garment with other accessories may give her friends a hard time finding her, even though this place was not as bustling as, say, Stokbon or some other city.

"Now where, oh, where, are my friends..."

She heaved a sigh as she waited for them in what seemed to her was the village square, which was barely occupied by some preoccupied elders, more occupied by overgrown weeds and spindly roots of dying trees. Kamala was also blissfully unaware that Ayna was already somewhere in the village, and as she looked toward the sky, she could see that the weather was much gloomier than before. She would not be surprised if a light drizzle suddenly greeted the rest of them. Wouldn't be the strangest thing I've experienced in here.

@Ayna Nietzsche @Chrys

Rolls

Expertise Check
1d100 (52) + 20 = 72 (Average)
Awareness | Kamala Graham | 1254

Play Sheet

 

[Chrys]

《⋯《 ⋯ ❖ ⋯ 》⋯》

Finally in the fields of fate.

The journey from Lyrwick to Pormont wasn't an easy one, mostly because Chrys had difficulty arranging for his own travel. He had someone else do this for him these days, but she was too busy in Stokbon, handling the tavern and funeral parlor he had left behind, in her capable hands, so he could pursue another venture that he thought would help him regain his supposed fortune. The mines had so far been a bust, but it was too early for him, for them, to give up. Looks like these people may have been the ones to give up so easily.

Chrys heaved a sigh as he entered the village of Vikform, slowly taking off the hood over his head, the Starlight Troupe's Badge on the right side of his chest glinting as light from the sky miraculously struck it, the Hero's Mantle on his shoulders heavy on his already armored form. The Plate of Excellence (Heavy Armor), otherwise known as the Groundbreaker Armor, was no easy protection to wear, but the same could be said for the Claymore of the First Loyalist (Greatsword) strapped to his back, the Earthly Lock of Mortal Chains (Crystal Orb) glimmering within the massive claymore, and he's never complained about the latter. Why start with the former now?

Looking around him, as his Jagged Wing (Gauntlets) fumbled inside his coat for the cube-shaped, golem-faced stone bottle, he focused on finding any semblance of his friends, though made no effort to actually find them. They would find him instead, no doubt, so he instead switched his attention to the lime-green liquid instead the bottle, staring at it for a moment, before opening his mouth and violently taking a swig with much effort, as the shot of jello was cubed and viscous and pungent and felt like it clung to his throat whenever he tried to swallow. Definitely not for the faint of heart.

"Gah!"

Chrys wiped his mouth with his sleeve when he managed to beat the drink down his throat and slowly stowed its bottle back inside his coat, a light drizzle beginning to fall as he started walking further in. From the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a cloaked form standing in front of him, but when he shook his head and tried to take a clearer, second look, it wasn't there anymore. Huh. Weird.

So he just continued walking.

@Ayna Nietzsche @Kamala Graham

Rolls

Expertise Check
1d100 (66) + 0 = 66 (Average)
Awareness | Chrys | 1254

Play Sheet

 

[Ayna Nietzsche]

⋇⊶⊰✦⊱⊷⋇

The eerie calm before the storm of blackened wings.

Although Ayna was unable to see whatever weird <dolphin sounds> @Chrys had caught a glimpse of, she managed to find both him and @Kamala Graham on the village's grounds from the roof where she had been perched. It wasn't hard to see the only woman wearing Yladian clothing and the only man with a massive claymore on his back. Most of the villagers were old people, not a lot were young, so those interested in exotic fashion and those able to still carry heavy weaponry on their aged backs were far and few in between, if they even existed at all. Finally. They're here.

Ayna first dropped down on Kamala, greeting her with a smile. As per usual, the darker-skinned Beastfolk with the flower in her hair was radiating with kindness and innocence. If Ayna was a poet, she'd described her as having been blessed by the gods of this world, forever illuminated by a divine spotlight few would ever come close to witnessing. Unfortunately, she wasn't a poet, and she didn't really have that much care for the arts.

"Hey there, hot stuff! Been waiting for you guys to arrive, though I saw Chrys just trailing behind you. You look as gorgeous as ever. Lemme just drag the old man here, so we can get started with whatever this is. Be back in a jiff!"

Then she rushed to where she remembered Chrys was, zooming past obstructions in her way, including a random old man and his wagon and an empty barrel or two, before she could finally point the latecomer in the direction of their mutual friend.

"You're late, <dolphin sounds>face! Are you always this slow? Come on, Kamala's already further in. Or do you need me to carry you like I'm your mommy?"

While she would always be more positive and reaffirming with Kamala, Chrys just made her mad whenever she saw him. It was less intense than before but it was still there. Maybe she's still hung up on how Chrys talked them into joining that expedition that killed Kamala. Maybe she just hates his guts. Whatever the case, the more things change between them, the more they remain the same.

Rolls

Expertise Check
1d100 (42) + 0 = 42 (Poor)
Awareness | Ayna Nietzsche | 1254

Play Sheet

 

[Kamala Graham]

‧͙⁺˚･❀･˚⁺͙‧

Meeting in Vikform

The streak continues! Kamala also fails to see whatever Chrys had seen, instead focusing all her attention on waiting for and failing to find her friends. She began to wonder if she had indeed sent her call to action, so she quickly double-checked by browsing her UI's sent messages. Lo and behold, she had no need to be concerned on that front, as she had indeed sent them her missives. Maybe they're just running late? She heaved a sigh as she mustered enough patience to chase all those concerns away. Just gotta have faith they'll be here when I need 'em!

As if on cue, Ayna suddenly appeared in front of her, with her patented grin and unnecessary flattery. Kamala was caught surprised but she didn't have much time to let all that bewilderment settle in. Ayna spoke fast, real fast, and she was always on the move. Kamala hoped that maybe, soon after she's done her self-imposed task, her friend might slow down and settle with them for some time before moving on to the next task. She didn't hate her or think negatively of her for that, though. Different people, different speeds, different paces.

"Oh, all right! Stay safe!"

...was all she could say before Ayna was gone again. Kamala lingered on in the direction she last saw her friend go until the light drizzle finally came to be and she was assailed by natural wetness. She let out a little yelp of discomfort before quickly looking around and finding shelter underneath someone else's roof, pressing herself an inch away from the walls of the seemingly abandoned house. This place... It seems so sad.

Looking back down the same trail where Ayna had disappeared, Kamala saw the path beginning to become shrouded in haze. The gray light in the cloudy skies has also begun to dim, and as it does, another light, a fainter one, becomes visible through the haze. Is that the windmill? But isn't it supposed to be abandoned, except for the treachery of ravens?

@Ayna Nietzsche @Chrys

Rolls

Expertise Check
1d100 (24) + 20 = 44 (Poor)
Awareness | Kamala Graham | 1254

Play Sheet

 

[Chrys]

《⋯《 ⋯ ❖ ⋯ 》⋯》

Carry me, mommy, uwu!

While his feet brought him farther from where he had seen the strange creature, his mind continued to wander back to it. In his mind's eye, Chrys could still see, if not even clearer, how the figure that had spooked him, more like caught him off-guard, glared at him with piercing, yellow eyes, as its head snapped up. He could almost believe the cloak on its back were a pair of mighty black wings, spreading around its form, as they sweep and proper him upwards with one powerful motion, leaving the premises with haste and him with a blast of chill air and a vague feeling of ominous doom.

He had been lost in all those thoughts when @Ayna Nietzsche suddenly appeared in front of him. Like a flash of lightning. Just as deadly but easier on the eyes. Chrys was used to her tone and language, seemingly exclusive to him and anyone else who pissed her off, that he no longer minded the adversarial choice of words. He even smiled at her welcome, though an eyebrow raised at her suggestion. That does not sound like an insult, more like a boon to me.

"Is that an actual offer? And will you carry me like we're newlyweds? Or should I just cling to your back?"

Chrys smirked at the thought, assuming that she'd opt for the latter if ever, which should be...an experience in itself, all things considered. However way possible, whichever choice they took together, soon, they were reunited with @Kamala Graham whom Chrys greeted with the same warmth she always greeted him with.

"Hello, Kamala. I have responded to your call to action, even though I am very unfamiliar with this place. But first, perhaps we should find sanctuary from this rain?"

He held a hand out to emphasize the wet assault they were experiencing before putting another hand on his head, another emphasis and a useless way at that to protect himself from the light drizzle. Catching a glimpse of the same source of light, he gestured to the others toward the wooded hillside where the structure seems to be propped up, not entirely on the know when it came to why they were there exactly.

Rolls

Carry me, mommy.

Play Sheet

 

[Ayna Nietzsche]

⋇⊶⊰✦⊱⊷⋇

The eerie calm before the storm of blackened wings.

The urge to end @Chrys was strong, but Ayna managed to overcome it by simply rolling her eyes and grabbing him by the arm. Almost immediately, lightning surged through her, manifesting as twin wings of twilight behind her back, and as the rest of it crackled around them, the next thing Chrys would notice was that they were now beside @Kamala Graham, with Ayna tossing him in front of them like he was a sack of potatoes. In Kamala's point-of-view, though, they had simply just appeared in a flash of lightning, with crackling electricity around the two, mostly Ayna, slowly dying down.

❰ Nocturnal Embodiment of Midnight's Phantom Dream ❱

"I've got our human meat shield. That the place?"

Ayna squinted at the grim black tower, what seemed to be a last defiant turret of a long-crumbled fortress, though she knew it was less magnificent and even less extravagant than that. After all, this town didn't seem like it had been a capital or whatever else you call a place with a fortress, a castle. Not in the past, not in the present, not in the future, not ever. It was just a windmill of sorts, covered with flapping black wings, a dark omen of things to come. Or just a really disgusting place with a lot of worms and leftover grains.

"What are we waiting for then? Let's go!"

She led the charge toward the windmill, though she didn't use her speed. The rest of her companions would find it difficult to catch up, and she wasn't feeling the idea of leaving Kamala with Chrys at the moment. Besides, sometimes, it's good to go slow. Inevitably, however, the haze and brush gave way to reveal the bald hilltop where the windmill stood, weather-beaten and veined with ivy. There was some sort of porch girding it for some reason, with its sagging roof sheltering a stout front door that stood open and emitted a flickering light. Looks like Jeb's Wheatfield from that one game. Hmm.

Play Sheet

 

[Kamala Graham]

‧͙⁺˚･❀･˚⁺͙‧

Chrys, please.

At the sight of both @Ayna Nietzsche and @Chrys finally arriving together and meeting her where she stood, Kamala beamed with giddy excitement. She gave them both a hug each, as tight as she could, and admonished their distinct looks. It was a reunion that was well-deserved, though to be fair, Kamala always enjoyed reuniting with old friends, even if they had seen each other just a few days ago. To her, any chance she could adventure with familiar faces, faces she loved and trust, was a victory in and of itself.

"Glad you guys could make it! I was hoping the other three would be available, but I think it's just the three of us. Again."

She made a playful sound with her mouth, her attempt at recreating a plopping noise, though only briefly. She wasn't trying to insult their three other friends who have become too busy to adventure with them since their arrival. She was more like playfully admonishing how it's always the three of them adventuring together. But that was what friendship was, right? Always having time for each other, especially when one of you needs the rest.

"Be careful, Ayna!"

She called out to the purple-haired Beastfolk who was always the first in the fray. It was something that Kamala both loved and was concerned about her. Ayna was always quick on her feet, but that doesn't always translate to safety. Rushing head-first into things can be more trouble than it's worth. But that's where I and my magic come in, though.

When she finally caught up to Ayna, they exchanged a glance of uneasiness before turning to Chrys with a playful smirks. Between the three of them, he was the perfect person to always go first. Just in case. She made the suggestion with the warmest, kindest eyes she could put on, coupled with the appropriate pitch and tone of her voice to really persuade their guardian to, well, guard them from possible traps or immediate danger. That was Chrys' entire thing, wasn't it? Protecting his friends whenever he could?

"Would you like to go first, Chrys?"

The porch that greeted them was creaky and covered in dead vines. There was also an infestation of worm-like bugs in damp corners, though it was unremarkable for the most part. A double door seemed to open from the front of the windmill, but there also seemed to be another door on the east side. Her eyes wandering upward, she began to wonder if they could just climb the porch's supports and therefore the rest of the windmill.

---

Play Sheet

 

[Chrys]

《⋯《 ⋯ ❖ ⋯ 》⋯》

Ain't afraid of no windmill!

Chrys simply smiled and nodded at @Kamala Graham before approaching the windmill, its porch clearly having seen better days. He only two, maybe three, steps before he felt something strange about the wood under his boot. Taking a step back for his own safety, he stomped on the part that felt a little weak, as if it was trying to hide something else and wasn't entirely concerned about the weight of those above it. Chrys easily destroyed that part of the porch and found what seemed to be a crawl space.

From where he stood, it looked like small children would be able to crawl through them with ease, though adults like him and the girls would maybe need to squeeze first to get inside. But for what purpose? That's odd: Do windmills normally have such crawl spaces? He turned to the girls to point them in its direction.

"There's something down here. Looks more like a crawl space than just a simple gutter. Anyone want to go down?"

It was a rhetorical question. He doubted either Kamala or @Ayna Nietzsche would be open to crawling inside the space. The porch was already infested with bugs. Who knows what could be down there? Most likely just more garbage and disgusting things. What a nice greeting, he sarcastically thought before he pressed further, opening the double doors on the windmill's front and welcoming himself inside.

What greeted him was peeling wallpaper accompanied by a musty scent that clung to the exposed walls of the otherwise spacious interior that made it seem more ancient than it was supposed to be. His eyes easily found a curving staircase rising from the cracked tiles of the floor and vanishing into a chamber high above, circling the dark granite walls while keeping its distance from a now-darkened chandelier. At the room's center, a bronze sculpture of an antlered eagle perched atop a marble pedestal while the wind moaned throughout. Nope, I was wrong about the first one: This is a nicer greeting.

---

Rolls

Expertise Check
1d100 (68) + 90 = 158 (Extraordinary)
Fitness | Chrys | 1254

Play Sheet

 

[Ayna Nietzsche]

⋇⊶⊰✦⊱⊷⋇

The eerie calm before the storm of blackened wings.

Ayna wasn't a fan of the porch. One look at it and she immediately had to drag her eyes away from the damned thing. What kind of people would just let a majestic structure such as this crumble and waste away? At least @Chrys seemed like he was having fun. Weirdo.

"Uhh, pass, man! Let's just get inside this windmill and do whatever it is we're here to do. This place gives me the creeps."

Inside wasn't any better. The smell reminded her of death, rather of dying. If the windmill looked like it was dead on the outside, it sure as hell smelled like it was the same on the inside. Well, it also looked like it was dead on the inside, but that should've been a given already, what with the outside's musty welcome. And here I thought Pormont was always nice.

"Blech! This place reeks! Let me do a quick run-down of this place. Be right back."

Without waiting for her companions' approval, Ayna used her lightning to start running around the place. Well, up the windmill. Ten feet and she was off the tower's base and into its heights, immediately noticing how the stairs seemed to run out of railings at this point. She had only moved 20 more feet when a powerful gust of wind from above forced her to suddenly stop. Ayna instinctively braced herself as her hair violently thrashed around her face, having to close her eyes a bit as well. Fuck.

Ayna tried her best to withstand the wind but it seemed to be too strong for her that she had to run back down to her friends. Annoyed and disappointed, she shook her head, scowling at them. Ayna had never been bested by the winds before, so this was a new experience. It was a terrible experience, but still. What the fuck was that?!

"Uhh, not to alarm anyone, but I tried going up there, zoomed right up, but...a powerful gust of wind stopped me. Weird, right?"

Was it? To her, it was. Ayna was speed incarnate. She was living lightning. She could move past the speed barrier, pierce through the veil, and ignore any and all resistance to her momentum. But that wind up there... That was some strange wind. She wondered if her friends would get it, though a part of him knew they probably didn't. How could they? Chrys was a slowpoke and @Kamala Graham preferred to walk and skip and smell the daisies along the way unlike her who runs through everything.

---

Rolls

Save
1d100 (34) + 0 = 34
Fortitude | Ayna Nietzsche | 1254

Play Sheet Link

 

[Kamala Graham]

‧͙⁺˚･❀･˚⁺͙‧

Confounded.

Kamala watched as @Chrys walked further toward the front doors of the windmill. She was about to follow him to make sure he would be all right and not get in any sort of trouble but ended up taking a step back instead, shocked when he started stomping all over the porch. Screaming his name in protest, as well as throwing out words of caution for him, she was dumbfounded when she presented them with his findings. Kamala took a quick look at the crawl space but found it too creepy and too scary to linger on. That looks very unsanitary.

"No, thanks!"

While @Ayna Nietzsche zoomed away to do some preliminary scouting of the rest of the windmill's interior, Kamala found herself looking around. She lamented the current despair of the place, looking abandoned and alone. Wherever its owners are now, she hoped they at least felt better, were better, than this old tower they had left behind. She walked on over toward what seemed to be a closet to the west portion of the room and warily opened it to do her own investigation, only to find several moth-eaten black cloaks and, on a higher shelf, a heavy but empty leather hat box. An item left behind by the previous owner no doubt.

Ayna's return, however, provided them with more questions than answers.

"A powerful gust of wind? That's odd... Can't you run through it? Is it pressing down from above or from the sides?"

Kamala didn't know much about Ayna's speed powers, but she's never seen her stopped by a mere gust of wind before. Whatever it was, it must have been really powerful, maybe even focused to keep her at bay. Like from one of those giant fan things they use in movie sets to mimic strong blasts of wind. But why would that be here, in the windmill? And wouldn't that instead scare off the crows, the ravens, away?

---

Rolls

Expertise Check
1d100 (70) + 20 = 90 (Average)
Awareness | Kamala Graham | 1254

Play Sheet Link

 

[Chrys]

《⋯《 ⋯ ❖ ⋯ 》⋯》

270 / 270

ARMORED

Hmm. Chrys squinted as he turned upwards, where @Ayna Nietzsche had been, where the supposed powerful gust of wind would have been. It is weird, and it is odd, for such a thing to be able to thwart someone like Ayna who basically threw herself at anything and everything with relatively zero pushback. Even solid barriers folded at her momentum. Is it magic?

"Let me try. Feel free to wait here."

Carefully, or more precisely slowly, Chrys ascended the stairs on his own, each step occasionally accompanied by an eerie creak. As his eyes moved upward, gauging the presence of anything malicious before him, he caught sight of the destroyed railings further up. Was it because of the tower's abandonment? Or was it something else? As soon as he reached his limit, as per the house rules, a powerful gust of wind try to keep him at bay as well, presumably the same powerful gust of wind that forced Ayna to go back down.

But Chrys was not like Ayna. Chrys was a man big strong boy, and like the mountains he represented in battle, this powerful gust of wind was no match for his big strength...boy! Chrys persisted, pressing forward despite the strong winds, and although slow, managed to reach behind where he assumed Ayna had been halted. Soon, the winds stopped howling, and he found himself in some sort of chamber, the end of his ascent. Where the hell am I?

The chamber appeared empty except for a suit of crimson ring mail laid out on the floor, where a faded chalk drawing of sorts played its bed. Chrys thought the armor to be strange, even stranger that it was left up there. Walking near it, he tried to inspect the ring mail with his eyes and wondered if it once belonged to a knight. The blood red suit does appear to be of an ancient style, bearing the marks of repeated repairs, which would imply that it has been used for battle countless of times. After staring at it for a couple more minutes, he decided to wear it, just to see if it would fit.

---

Rolls

Save
1d100 (13) + 110 = 123
Fortitude | Chrys | 1254

Play Sheet Link

 

[Ayna Nietzsche]

⋇⊶⊰✦⊱⊷⋇

The eerie calm before the storm of blackened wings.

Ayna shook her head as her hands found their way to her hips. She even heaved a sigh to express her utmost disappointment at being bested by the wind. Answering @Kamala Graham's questions, she crossed her arms over her chest as she tried to steal a glimpse of what she found in that closet.

"Yeah, it is! This has never happened to me before... Nope, not really. Seems to be pressing everywhere but mostly directed to keep me from moving forward, if that makes sense? You find anything interesting in there?"

At @Chrys' comment, she simply shrugged. He's a big meaty guy, but Ayna wasn't certain he'd do a more impressive job than her. After all, she was the one with the Aeromancy. Then again, he was the only one in their trio who hasn't died yet, so he was probably doing something right. Regardless, she still had zero confidence in him and his attempt.

So, rather than stay there and wait for him, Ayna decided to do something else while he was busy trying to penetrate the upstairs part of the windmill to possibly no avail. She caught sight of a door to the north of where she and Kamala stood. It didn't take her long to decide to check it out.

"Anyway, I'll check that room out. Feel free to follow or not. Just stay safe and scream if you need help. I'll zoom right to your rescue."

She gave Kamala a playful wink before pressing on. Warily, she wrapped her fingers around the knob and slowly turned it. As she opened the door, an eerie creak greeted her. Inside the room, however, she found dozens of faded portraits covering the walls. The people in the portraits seemed to have their eyes fixed on a circular table that bears something strange. Is that a spirit board? What the fuck? Ayna ignored the wide mirror hanging over the tall fireplace set in the eastern wall as she began to look for the missing planchette.

---

Play Sheet Link

 

[Kamala Graham]

‧͙⁺˚･❀･˚⁺͙‧

Investigating

Kamala did not hesitate in showing @Ayna Nietzsche what she found, which really wasn't much. It was perhaps one of the most disappointing reveals in her life. Thank the gods she wasn't an actual detective. Or maybe she should have. Maybe then she'd think something more of the discarded clothing she had accidentally found.

"Just some old cloaks and an empty hat box, I think?"

She gave @Chrys a nod, and then Ayna, as her companions decided to split up to cover more ground in their makeshift investigation.

"Okay then. Just stay safe, you two! Let me know if you need any healing or something..."

Once they had departed, Kamala spent a moment or two just standing there, thinking about what she should do next. Suddenly, she heard some coughing upstairs, and after calling for Chrys, decided to check it out herself. Climbing up the same set of stairs that both Ayna and Chrys had, also in that order, Kamala stopped on the second floor, the floor above where Ayna had gone to and below where Chrys currently was, having heard the same coughing behind a nearby door. It was at this moment that her heart began to race, the creeping paranoia that was the gift of her first death reminding her of what could come next. Not more insects please. Anything but more insects.

Gulping, Kamala opened the aforementioned door and warily peered inside the room it led to. Much to her surprise, however, it was nothing more than a makeshift office decorated with sturdy shelves and a desk carved with reclining...goat people. When she noticed that the desk's high-backed chair is turned away, obscuring any occupant, Kamala gulped again before letting out a meek greeting, announcing her presence in a dumb attempt to not worry whoever was in the room. If there was anyone in the room. Alive, hopefully.

"H-hello? Is anyone here? M-my name's Kamala and I'm with the Adventurers Guild. Some of your farmers asked for help with the crows, ravens, being attracted to this place and we're here to do that... Help."

From a safe distance, Kamala held herself as she made her slow, careful approach. She quickly turned the chair around, keeping as much distance between herself and whatever could be on it, before jumping back, only to be met with the chair's squeaking and...nothing else. It was freaking empty. Oh, gods... I mean, thank the gods.

Heaving a sigh of relief, she shifted her attention to the table and began investigating it. She easily distinguished a merchant's scale, several blunt writing implements, and a tiny, framed portrait of a woman sitting on the desk. The copious documents seemed to include business files interspersed with personal papers, though most of them were ruined by age.

Interestingly, though, she also found what appeared to be the deed to the windmill as well as the rights to the surrounding land under a sheaf of dry legal documents, enumerating the land's features, including the actual name of the windmill as well as the names of the prior owners. Dates unknown? Well, that's not ominous at all.

In addition to the dull business records, Kamala found some sort of key that she first investigated before pocketing...just in case. There was also some sort of 4-foot-long silver chain necklace, some sort of stick, and what appeared to be a pistol alongside a box containing more bullets than she dared to count. To most people, these would be pretty useful or interesting. But Kamala didn't share that same penchant for capitalism and violence. Why would she even need a pistol when she has magic?

---

Rolls

Expertise Check
1d100 (78) + 20 = 98 (Average)
Awareness | Kamala Graham | 1254

Roll Result
1d2 (2) = 2
dw about it | Kamala Graham | 1254

Play Sheet Link

 

[Chrys]

《⋯《 ⋯ ❖ ⋯ 》⋯》

270 / 270

Location: 4th Floor (Highest Floor)
ARMORED

Now wearing the strange armor left in the room, Chrys looked around him after gawking at his newly worn protection. The room was still as empty as his head, even more so now that he has taken the only thing noteworthy inside it. He felt something strange as he stared at the faded drawing on the floor, where the mysterious armor had laid still and untouched before his arrival, but simply shrugged the feeling off. Finding a door at the opposite end of the room, he approached it, unintentionally making as much loud banging and clanging because of the armor, as possible. He hesitated as he stood before the door, hand hovering in front of the knob, before ultimately opening it to see what was on the other end.

He was mildly surprised when he found that what waited for him beyond the door was simply the roof of the windmill. Chrys went out, clanging and banging, into the walkway and found the treachery of ravens along the exterior wall. None of them paid him any attention. Further outward, he saw a ledge jutting from what could be a chimney of sorts. Or maybe it was just the edge of the propeller things. Chrys was not a windmill builder, so he had no idea that the building was no longer resembling an actual windmill from where he stood.

"What the hell is that?"

Out of curiosity, he began to move toward the mysterious ledge, ignoring the fact that the walkway was treacherously angled. The loose shingles and the moss, which made it slick and slippery, that were both covering the entirety of it were ignored, as were the strange mists that were now obscuring the view of the rest of the immediate lands around the windmill. Any normal man moving across the roof without the aid of magic or gear to steady themselves, especially while wearing such bulky armor, would have found themselves sliding off the roof to the ground, to their immediate doom and perhaps even death, but Chrys was no normal man. Chrys was a special man: He was an idiot with powers. Easy does it...

When he arrived at where the mysterious ledge was, Chrys immediately began investigating it. Considering how proficient he was in Geomancy, he was able to assume that the damned thing was some sort of mundane architectural superstition. He's seen something like it back in the Scottish countryside, too, where his ex-girlfriend lived. A witch's stone? It was said to provide a place for witches to rest during their nightly travels.

Odd. Chrys squinted at it some more, and after determining that this stone had indeed no special properties, he started to look around clearer and realized that the couldn't see past the strange mists around the windmill. Normal men would have thought this was rather ominous, and perhaps even scary, but again, Chrys was no normal man. Instead, the dumb fuck manifested two golden rocks from his Auric Geomancy and started to rub them together to light the candle wick on the witch's stone. Too foggy, should light this so the witches can see through the mists... Weird priority but mkay.

---

Rolls

Expertise Check
1d100 (49) + 90 = 139 (Spectacular)
Fitness | Chrys | 1254

Expertise Check
1d100 (92) + 0 = 92 (Average)
Knowledge | Chrys | 1254

Play Sheet Link

 

[Ayna Nietzsche]

⋇⊶⊰✦⊱⊷⋇

The eerie calm before the storm of blackened wings.
Location: 1st Floor > 2nd Floor (Where @Kamala Graham is)

Crawling under the circular table with the spirit board, and under the watchful gaze of the portraits covering the room's walls, Ayna finally found the planchette on the floor, but not without a souvenir of pain. On her way out from underneath the table, she miscalculated the length of it and ended up hitting her head against the wood, yelping in pain as she finally got back to her feet with the prize in her hand.

"Goddamn, stupid table..."

Once she was done blaming the inanimate object for her mistake, she went to the spirit board, upon which she placed the planchette and sat down, nursing her bruised head and her bruised ego. Ayna didn't believe in these things, spirits and spirit boards, only in what she could see and know⁠—the physical world and science and technology. The realm of spirits was beyond her, and she had no interest in reaching it while she was alive whatsoever, even in this game world. The fuck am I gonna get from the dead anyway?

As soon as the thought crossed her mind, however, the planchette began to move across the spirit board, surprising Ayna. A normal, mundane person would've screamed in fear and bolted out that door, but Ayna was more curious than scared, and she continued to watch as the planchette spelled words without even being prompted to. Gutter? Trapped? And when it stopped moving, Ayna was left squinting at the damned things before looking around her and not feeling too keen on being left alone in a room filled with creepy portraits.

"Hey, guys? Guys, I think we need to check the gutter or whatever. Something might be, uhh, trapped in there..."

Ayna bolted out that door, left the planchette and the spirit board and the portraits on the walls, and began zooming around to look for her friends, ending up on the second floor, presumably where @Kamala Graham was. Due to how loud Ayna was speaking, she would have heard her last statement about the gutter and something that could be trapped there. There was no way in hell she was going to check all that on her own. At least with Kamala, she felt safe. Two heads were better than one, right?

---

Rolls

Expertise Check
1d100 (70) + 0 = 70 (Average)
Awareness | Ayna Nietzsche | 1254

Play Sheet Link

 

[Kamala Graham]

‧͙⁺˚･❀･˚⁺͙‧

Location: 2nd Floor > Gutter/Crawl Space
It has AWAKENED!

As soon as Kamala heard @Ayna Nietzsche's voice, she stowed most of the items she had found and immediately walked to where her friend sounded like she was from, almost bumping right into her by the door of the office she was in.

"Ayna? What are you... Gutter? You mean the crawl space from earlier?"

Leading her friend back to the first floor and then outside, where the only crawl space or gutter they had passed by was, Kamala wasted no time in investigating it, especially since Ayna was talking about something being trapped in it. But first, Kamala had to calm herself down and do some intentionally heavy breathing. The crawlspace was, after all, filled with those maggots from before.

"This isn't going to be fun, but if I scream, and if I really sound like I need help, please zoom me out of there. I'll try my best to only scream if necessary, though. Who knows what's down there... In all that muck."

Kamala had to squeeze herself to enter the crawl space, finding it a little difficult at first because, while she wasn't as big as Chrys, her anatomy still had a part that made it a struggle to enter the crawl space unimpeded. What men referred to as gifts can be quite a curse to women like her. As soon as she wriggled into the crawl space/gutter, however, a swarm of unnaturally aggressive maggots became upset and tried to fend her off. She was the invader in this scenario, and they were just defending their home. Fortunately for Kamala, she was proficient in Nature Magic, and that helped a lot with dealing with nature's tiny janitors. It's all right, friends: I'm not here to hurt you.

It took her an entire five minutes, just digging in the spot in front of the windmill's front doors, through the grave-sized rectangular space of gray dust and dead bugs, to find what seemed to be the only thing "trapped" there: A battle axe of sorts, embossed with excessively salivating demonic toads. What the actual fudge? She would've been much faster if the maggots weren't writhing around her, placated only by the decayed plant matter she manifested through her magic. As soon as she found the weapon, and confirmed that nothing else noteworthy was down there, she quickly resurfaced with her find and showed it to Ayna.

"Uhh... Is this what you meant? It's the only thing down there. Who even told you about—"

Kamala cut herself off when a loud ringing suddenly invaded her mind, followed by the words "COMING" and "FREE" and "STAIRS" in rapid succession, all of which were seemingly spoken by a raspy male voice. Before she could confirm with Ayna if she heard the same, the sound of a distant scream pierced the entire area. Once again, Kamala winced in pain, both hands covering her ears as she dropped the strange battle axe on the ground.

---

Rolls

Expertise Check
1d100 (21) + 20 = 41 (Poor)
Awareness | Kamala Graham | 1254

Play Sheet Link