Connection ErrorBad RequestThis page went staleSession ExpiredSign in requiredForbiddenNot FoundToo Many RequestsServer ErrorBad GatewayService UnavailableGateway TimeoutHTTP Version Not Supported
Session Expired
Your session has expired. Please log in to continue.
Sign in required
You need an account to do that. Sign in or create one — it only takes a minute.
This page went stale
Your security token was rejected, usually because the page sat open too long or you signed in elsewhere. Nothing was saved. Reload the page and try again.
Request Failed
We encountered an issue while processing your request.
Please check your internet connection and try again.
-- Hello! The menu has become much more diverse, and you guys weren't lying. I thought I had already tried everything after seventy hearty meals. I'll take an assortment of meat-filled dumplings... And you know what, I'll also take an assortment of sweet ones, if it's just a little bit of each.
- "Foreigners"... 🤦♂️ The chef takes the order and returns with it after a while, thinking that it's time to hire someone to work instead of Christoph. - Enjoy your meal.
Added 4 minutes later Heroist
—I think I was at that discussion too. Or not? I went to the guild once, thinking I would explain everything about life and stuff to everyone, like in the good old days. But in the end, I was just mumbling something incoherently, and neither side even understood me... —the undead sighed sadly. —And about the city, well... I'm already glad that I made it here before the end of, uh, our whole story. Oh, it would be even better to get cured, you have no idea how much I miss the feasts in the palace dining rooms.
—So, what, one more game before we leave, or back to work?
- Come on, look at the situation from a different angle. You don't need to sleep, you don't need to eat, you don't need to get sick... It's not that bad. Of course, it's more fun to be alive, but that's only for those who have a normal life. The rest aren't really alive, they're just... cogs, vegetables, zombies? Have you heard of the Haranian Empire? It's located on the other side of the Howley Bay from Calcite. They use people like you as labor there, while they live in luxury. Let's play when there's something to play for.
Alaria tries to estimate how much a solitary, simple meal with a cup of Helles tea as lunch, on an empty stomach, will affect her attempts to lose weight. If it doesn't have a significant impact, she'll order and consume it in this combination. After all, she needs to eat somehow.
- Excellent! Then, magenta, please! Gion discreetly hands Beate 100 (95, with a discount?) rem so that she can pay herself and it doesn't look strange.
- Come on, look at the situation from a different angle. You don't need to sleep, you don't need to eat, you don't need to get sick... It's not that bad. Of course, it's more fun to be alive, but that's only for those who have a normal life. The rest can hardly be called alive, they're just... cogs, vegetables, zombies? Have you heard of the Harran Empire? It's located across the Howley Bay from Calcite. They use people like you as labor, while they live in luxury. Let's play when there's something to play for.
—I might have thought the same in the summer, but now that I'm a dead man myself... instead of sleeping, I stare at the wall for twelve hours, instead of getting buffs from food, I feed on solar energy, without camouflage, I'm an outcast, and if I turn into some kind of zombie, I rot alive. —Klin began to count on his fingers. —And I'm not even talking about the fact that you get dumber before your eyes, you forget emotions, and in the end you become the same cog-zombie-vegetable, and not figuratively. Only a living vegetable can at least work out its term and retire, but a dead one will dig gardens for an eternity.
—Well, okay, without bets it's really not the same, sorry. —Klin got up from his seat. —Especially if I'm late for the workshop, the boss will tear me apart. She may seem kind and use smileys, but in reality, if she gives you a good whack, you'll turn to dust. (Not that I would mind, of course.)
—Anyway, I'll come back when I have some money. And thanks for the conversation and the cards. Good luck with your cozy quest. If Her Brightness returns, I'll send my deepest bow and gratitude for the property. And you, Barsik, please convey my greatest respect to Her Highness, the Imperial sister. —He bowed to the cat, slung the bag over his shoulder, and headed to work.
She might use cute smileys in her messages, but in reality, if she gives you a good smack, you'll turn to dust instantly. (Not that I'd mind, of course.)
At first, I didn't perceive this as Klin's depression, but rather as some kind of fantasy he had.
After Carneol's raid on the archive, Garret initially thought that he wouldn't have much to read in the near future, as he had never shown such an inclination before. However, it turned out that Erefir and his companions had become seriously interested in this topic and planned to spend hours in the library every day. One morning, after seeing off the group of bookworms, he asked what incredibly important thing they were studying there.
Author
School of Baldur
Baldur? Something vaguely stirred in his memory. Unlike many other names, this didn't seem like something new; rather, it was vaguely familiar, something left far behind in the whirlwind of events and forgotten, like something from a past life. He had heard it somewhere before. Could it be...?
Opening the book, he skimmed through the introduction. Yes, indeed. Serberia, known as the richest and most powerful country in Vusteria. In his hands was a tale about his homeland, which seemed to be thriving just recently, but now, according to experts, lies in ruins.
The dates mentioned in the text led him into even greater confusion. This wasn't just about Vusteria at some arbitrary point in its existence, but specifically about the time of his life, the present, which seemed so immutable and undeniably existing... What looked like a history of distant times was, in fact, a collection of memoirs of his contemporaries.
These heroes... While Garret was engaging in banditry and moral decay on the outskirts, they were following their own path of adventure. The students of Gungnir were distinguished by their special unity; they were extremely close-knit and resembled a large family, where everyone would stand up for everyone else. This was quite different from Garret's bandit gangs, where the only thing they had in common was the desire for profit. While browsing their descriptions, he involuntarily stopped at one of the names, and swirling memories flashed before his eyes.
"Gulveig? Gulveig from Baldur... Yes, that's the name she used."
Author
— I am a representative and commander of the "Dracena" squad, Gulveig from Baldur. My name probably doesn't mean anything to you.
At that time, she didn't seem like anything particularly promising, let alone a great heroine who would later have epic tales written about her. In the eyes of the Lungwort Garret, she was just another "boss," one of those who come and go for various reasons. Just a seemingly ordinary girl who, for some reason, had gathered the courage to assemble a gang of thugs. Nevertheless, even then, he noticed her extraordinary courage and will, and now, looking at her incredible story...
"Well, Gulveig from Baldur, now your name means a lot."
It's quite strange to realize that he once stood face to face and spoke with someone who would later be recorded in the legends of their time, and that he was even her comrade for a short time. It's even stranger to learn about this in such a way, as if a relatively recent past had now turned into an epic saga. Who knows, if he hadn't left "Dracena," perhaps his fate would have turned out differently, and he and his brother wouldn't have ended up in such an inglorious demise. And yet, in his case, this is a kind of symbolism. Because his path is not the path of Gulveig, nor of any of her brothers and sisters. By some unknown cosmic twist of fate, Garret ended up in this place and time to walk a path guided by the shadow of a fading world.
Garret is studying the School of Baldur - Darkness.
- Hello, we'd like a casserole and some cookies for dessert, please! You have such a beautiful, thematic setting! Gion pays for both. - By the way, we're running low on funds, - he says quietly to Beate. BTW, I noticed you didn't apply the discount for the couple, but let's just leave a tip for him, lol. I just remembered about it now, when I was buying nail polish.
These heroes... While Garret was engaging in banditry and moral decay in his remote area, they followed their own path of adventure. The pupils of Gungnir were distinguished by their special unity; they were extremely close-knit and resembled a large family, where everyone would stand up for everyone else.
- Hello, we'd like a casserole and some cookies for dessert, please! You have such a beautiful, themed decor! Gion pays for both. - By the way, we're running out of money soon, - he says quietly to Beata.
- This establishment has been going through a rough patch, so now they have to attract customers in new ways.
Added 2 minutes ago Heroist
- I might have thought the same in the summer, but now that I'm a dead man... instead of sleeping, I stare at the wall for twelve hours, instead of food buffs, I feed on solar energy, I'm an outcast in plain sight, and if I become some kind of zombie, I rot alive. - Klin began to list on his fingers. - And that's not even mentioning that you get dumber before your eyes, you forget emotions, and in the end, you become the same gear-zombie vegetable, and not figuratively. Only a living vegetable can at least work out its term and retire, while a dead one will dig gardens for an eternity.
- Well, okay, without bets it's really not the same, sorry. - Klin got up. - Especially if I'm late for the workshop, the boss will tear me apart. She may seem kind and use smileys, but in reality, if she gives you a good whack, you'll turn to dust instantly. (Not that I would mind, of course.)
- Anyway, I'll come by when I get some money. And thanks for the conversation and the cards. Good luck with your cozy little quest. If Her Highness returns, I'll send my deepest respects and gratitude for the property. And you, Barsik, please convey my greatest respect to Her Imperial Highness, the Emperor's sister. - He bowed to the cat, slung the bag over his shoulder, and headed to work.
- Klin, hey, wait. Have you even seen Her Highness, the middle princess?
- I hope things will improve now; it's a wonderful place with a great atmosphere!
— I hope things will improve now... I mean, go uphill. Ha-ha, what a "Nora" I said! I'm really starting to slip up. We definitely don't know any "Noras" and haven't left them to die while saving our loot, ha-ha...
Perhaps, just to spite the gloomy and petty priest, or perhaps simply to maintain the atmosphere, Aiyano did something she had never planned to do in her life (which was already not the first such event during this expedition) - namely, during the general festivities, she also performed a lyrical song:
Presumably, this photograph depicted the image she had been feeling in her soul lately - cosmic loneliness, abandoned somewhere and left to the whims of fate, with the Kami-sama being the only truly friendly faces for her, to whom she offered many heartfelt prayers every day, surrounded by her knives and with a quiver of crossbow bolts dangling on her belt... But even if not, it could very well mean that, depending on the perception of the specific listener. The song was Nihonese, but the cosmic skill of bilingualism that the blood of Naryia had endowed her with allowed her to easily perform it in Welfern as well, liberally sprinkling it with Nihonese words on the fly in those moments when it would be difficult to convey the meaning in the local language, or when it would be beneficial for the textual sound. After finishing the performance, she bowed and belatedly, with a touch of embarrassment, looked away from the resting townspeople.
Author
In the end, only Trude, Aiyano, Lord, Emil, and Akia remained. It was time for them to pack up as well.
Collecting leftovers and dishes from many people, including messy children, had never been and could never be something exciting or even just not tiring, but today it was quite easy, which is what she was doing, without forgetting to carefully pack different types of garbage and picnic supplies into containers strictly designated for their respective categories.
kcfgogbfalgfl
Ple-Sen
