Posts from ☀️ Arselia and Akonia Auto-translated

After a short break, Vortex heads to "Tentacle" to buy the Asuguh Diary. Then, she plans to visit "Ornament" and purchase a Subin banner for her room. It's amazing how well she knows the capital...

Beata is rewriting prices in Siege Mort (for the sake of a believable alibi!) and Yansi is writing them down in a notebook, and then they go to check the air station, as it's on the way.

From: Margel To: Sidjin Travel time: ~1 day. Cost: 100 rem. From: Margel To: Azuria Travel time: ~2 days Cost: 200 rem. From: Margel To: Aegis Travel time: ~2.5 days Cost: 300 rem. From: Margel To: Tingan Travel time: ~1 day Cost: 100 rem. From: Margel To: Certificus Travel time: ~1 day Cost: 100 rem. From: Margel To: Riesen Travel time: ~1.5 days Cost: 150 rem. From: Margel To: Argheim Travel time: ~2 days Cost: 200 rem. From: Margel To: Novellia Travel time: ~1 day Cost: 100 rem. From: Margel To: Shiho Travel time: ~4 days Cost: 400 rem. From: Margel To: Kattia Travel time: ~2.5 days Cost: 300 rem From: Margel To: Ptilopsis Travel time: ~3 days. Cost: 350 rem From: Margel To: Tais Travel time: ~3.5 days. Cost: 350 rem From: Margel To: Laplace Travel time: ~4 days. Cost: 400 rem

- Mmm, wonderful! Well, there's no alternative, I guess I'll have to travel by train... Oh well.

He starts philosophizing.

The prices are just like in real life – exorbitant.

- Good morning... - he looks around, searching for someone at these gates.

— Good morning. How can the Academy of Magic of Margel help you?

— No questions. I don't know something, I don't know it. I'll find you myself if needed.

— Well, I was glad to see you, — the Tanarian woman said respectfully, nodding, — I hope our meeting won't be the last.
Alaria wanted to add, "and I won't be any weaker than I was during our first meeting," but she didn't. As unpleasant as it was to admit, Calcite was much worse for developing any skills or strengths, except perhaps perseverance. In contrast to Margel, with his abundance of opportunities, here you can only spend money, die, pick up curses, or turn into undead. Oh, and of course, buy a slave! How could you do without it! All that remained was to hope that, in the event of a successful mission, Her Highness would reward her servant generously and use her influence to help her not only catch up but also significantly surpass her former level of skill. At least, if she appreciates her determination to continue the mission, despite all the risks involved. It was too early to make plans, but since Naria is capable of pulling people out of their native worlds, maybe she can also restore lost knowledge in a similar way? Or simply dispel the spells of Melesar, using the powers of this dead demigoddess, whose remains their group is collecting. It was too early to think about the reward, but at least such thoughts allowed Alaria to maintain some semblance of hope. Because, without her skills, the promised fame and fortune would only be a way for the Tanarian woman to escape reality and distract herself from gloomy thoughts.

If Melesar hadn't thrown away the keys to the slave dungeon, perhaps one of the escaped, emaciated, and tormented survivors would have then witnessed an even stranger and more terrifying sight. Right in the middle of the endless dunes, separated from the reliable walls of Barsin by a falling horizon, a man sat on the ground, half-buried in sand. His black shadow stretched out in all directions, forming a mysterious magical pattern on the parched sandy surface. As it touched his skin, the hot breath of the wind seemed to turn cold, yet he felt neither the heat of the scorching sun nor the dark aura that enveloped his lifeless body. This creature could be mistaken for a decaying mummy, and that wouldn't be far from the truth. Digging out a hand buried up to the elbow, Klin discovers a small, cracked stone in the palm of his hand. Then, almost mechanically, he throws it forward, into the barely discernible, mirror-like mirage of a human shadow. "Catch, Ken," a horribly dead voice says. The stone flies through the mysterious silhouette and disappears. The knight begins to sink into the sandstorm again. It's a pity that in his well-deserved finale, Melesar didn't laugh, didn't shrug his shoulders, as he usually did before. Klin would have liked to hear some phrase from him, like "unlucky," but alas. At least, the mad sorcerer turned out to be a man devoted to his passion and his word, which was something to respect. Klin's foolish suggestion to join their game, of course, couldn't have worked. He didn't have enough charisma even to convince a child. But Melesar, it seems, was truly lonely at heart and craved real, fun company. How many innocent prisoners did he torture without ever finding what he sought? And how much good could his outstanding magical talent have brought? Damned apostle stones. The world is permeated with evil even without them. They twist souls, turn people into monsters. Why does the princess need them? However, he doesn't care about that. And yet... they should be isolated, hidden, walled up at the bottom of the sea. But... if there is someone who could contain this poisonous power, it is only his mistress. Klin listened carefully to his own feelings once more. He wasn't very emotional before, but now every thought, every word, emanated with a cold indifference. What if his thoughts about Naria have also become a lie, forever vanished along with his physical shell, leaving only residual memories? The princess was his air, but he wasn't breathing; water, but he didn't feel thirst; life, but he was already dead. What irony: his last meal was meager canned food, his last woman was a greedy rich woman; his last bed was a tent in the desert. There will be no more philosophical conversations with prominent figures, no more card games with familiar servants. He will no longer see the walls of his native Margel, nor the beautiful face of the princess. He will not return to the Kreider mountains and will not know the happiness of an ordinary mortal. These were Klin's thoughts, but he felt neither sadness, nor sorrow, nor longing. He was a guest in his own body, a puppeteer playing with an ugly figure left over from a play called "life." But then, amidst the emptiness that enveloped his mind, he was relieved to find a bright map of Naria. He will continue this mission until only a runic sword remains of him. And even if that happens, he will break the will of every new owner of the weapon, forcing them to serve Her Highness. If, however, the princess deems him unnecessary, he will, without a shadow of a doubt, step onto the seabed. But if she finds him useful... he will become her most faithful and eternal servant.

Goes off to philosophize.

The topic of today's meeting was the question of what is "cooler" — tits or asses? One of the most active participants turned out to be Beata's acquaintance, Salmon Zimbari. 

— Asses are definitely cooler! Why, you ask? It's simple! It's all about evolution! Long, long ago, when human- and gnomekind moved around on all fours, everyone always looked at each other's behinds! Perhaps they even sniffed them, as dogs still do to this day, for example! But with evolution, when we started walking on two legs, butts took a back seat and were replaced by boobers... So what does that mean? That in terms of beauty, breasts are just fake asses! And as we know, the original is always better than the imitation!
— Mr. Zimbari, — Lee Jun addresses the conversation participant, — I'm a bit uncomfortable ruining your theory, but... What evolution are you talking about? Intelligent beings, including humans and dwarves, were created in God's image and likeness... We never walked on all fours. 
— :gasp: wait, really?.. Damn... But I read it in a book once... Bloody hell! My whole world has been turned upside down! Beata, my friend, help me hide my shame! Let's hear what you think on the given topic!.. Meanwhile, I'll quietly step aside...

What irony: his last meal was pathetic canned food, his last woman a greedy rich woman; his last bed a tent in the desert. There will be no more philosophical conversations with famous people, nor card games with familiar servants. He will no longer see the walls of his native Margel, nor the beautiful face of the princess. He will not return to the Kreider mountains and will not know the happiness of an ordinary mortal.

He will not kiss the princess's boot...

She doesn't really like it when people drool on her shoes...

>finally created a character specifically for kissing boots >the first empress in history who doesn't like that Oh, this Revan

She doesn't really like it when people drool on her shoes...

So, what does she like to have drooled on? 😏

maybe she just likes to drool...

Triad >>> Flew away