Posts from Pursuit of the Sun 1.2

-- Words cannot be trusted... Not even the greatest poet can express what he truly thinks with words. Words are but a poor shadow of the soul...
The last sentence was spoken aloud. The constable begins to massage his temples, and the lady drinks her glass in one gulp.
Two young women, dressed slightly more revealingly than is customary in such society, approach the group. Just a little, but enough to leave little room for speculation about their profession.
-- Noble gentlemen, you seem troubled, -- they curtsy. -- Perhaps we could entertain you with a dance?
-- Or ease your souls in another way?

That's interesting... suddenly, he's almost dead... it sounds like a zero-stage patient with the highest risk... but what can you do.

– That sounds strange... he was healthy and suddenly became seriously ill! Thank you for the tip, my friend. I won't bother you anymore, – Ottar gets up and leaves.

...and heads to his colleague... on the way, he decides to take medicine against premature death... just in case the apprentice decides to fight... or someone else.

well, I've already chosen... and is mandatory group content planned or only for Nebka does it depend on the players?

-- I need to eliminate the neighboring farm, -- Sigurd replies. -- More precisely, eliminate the jarl's house and his retinue; let the others live if they are smart enough to stay out of it. I have enough warriors, but one more certainly wouldn't hurt.

Cassius's gaze sweeps over the women; he scrutinizes their faces and figures, pondering whether they are beautiful enough to warrant a beating. Reaching a positive conclusion, the knight's mind conjures fantasies of them groaning in pain and begging him to stop the torment. After this, the face of the deceased Laura appears before the aristocrat. He unconsciously reaches for the medallion, and upon touching it, he emerges from the depths of his mind and says:
- The dance.

I've already chosen... and is there any planned mandatory group content, or does it depend on the players?

*Another joke about Voldemar liking to watch*

They dance to the mournful tune of a flute, slowly, majestically, sensually. The long, transparent sleeve of one of them momentarily wraps around Cassius's arm, and immediately recoils, like a snake after a strike.
Raimund makes a decisive move and puts his arm around his companion's shoulders. Convinced that the first move was successful, he takes a goblet with his free hand and, slowly sipping, enjoys the dance, gently swaying his head to the rhythm.

In the background, Zuricha, already quite relaxed from the wine and Gnosis, goes to sleep. Gautier and Sigurd are arm wrestling. The Regent, his son, and the chaplain are discussing something. Viscount Guy raises a toast to good health, and Ida watches the musicians intently.

Added 38 seconds later
Planned

The former Knight would probably think about the ethical and moral side of this statement. An experienced and wise man would think about the military-strategic and political aspects. But Hargon didn't really care.

—That's how it should be, straight to the point and without unnecessary preambles. I like this approach, Jarl. I will earn the title of Berserker in the ranks of your army. I will also see if the blood is the same color in the North.

Looking at the dancing women, the Knight again plunged into dreams. In them, he danced with Laura in the Aurelius estate.

-- It's very simple: five dice, roll them, see the result, pick up or pass, re-roll if needed, pick up again, and reveal! -- In a good way, -- chuckles Prostolyudin, choking on his beer. Even though people were leaving the table one by one, some still managed to win, and after about five rounds, some left with their winnings.

-- Excellent. We will depart on the seventh of March, and you will return to Dismal no later than the twentieth.

Added 2 minutes later
In reality, the dancers are once again bothering Cassius with unwanted questions.
-- Sir, we humbly hope that you enjoyed it. If there is anything else we can do for you, just say the word.

How damaging to their reputation in this society would it be to leave with these two?

– Excellent. We will depart on the seventh day of March, and you will return to Dismal no later than the twentieth.