Posts from Pursuit of the Sun 1.2

-- Mr. Voldemar, perhaps we could move to a private room? I'm afraid I might get beaten up in the common hall, and if that happens, I won't be able to let it go. Chaos, turmoil, madness – women's fights in a bathhouse are a terrible thing, I'm telling you.

- Do you have some kind of zoo in your slums? Can't you control yourselves at all? The slightest thing, and it's immediately "chaos, turmoil, madness"? If I started a fight at the slightest provocation, there wouldn't be any slums left. Everything would be lying in ashes...
- And you, can you also conjure up storms and chaos?
- And why would I need to "get beaten up"? You're supposed to be respected among the outcasts. You said so yourself...

😠

Cassius felt no awkwardness at all. And any awkwardness on Amalia's part is her own problem. 
 

And it should have been, because while everyone else was resting at the tavern in heartfelt brotherly get-togethers, Cassius, playing the special snowflake, broke away from the company, and now just as demonstratively heads in the opposite direction from the rest.
-- This is like an illustration of where the noble ones are and where we are, -- passing Cassius, Rainulf muttered. 
-- And thank the Void for that -- I wouldn't want to live my life with such a sour face... Better to be a beggar hobo than such a titled recluse.
-- For real, what's the point of money and lineage if you live like a lone owl?

The fighters take a large elite room -- it was decided that three champions would chip in for the rent, the bathhouse attendants, and other amenities for rest. The bathhouse attendants fuss about with birch brooms, the girls dance lewd dances, the bard skillfully combines playing with downing beer, while the fighters occupy the tubs and, with a woman across from them and beer in hand, start swapping various tales.
Sigebar tells how in his youth his father sold him to the northerners.
-- I hold no grudge against my old man, -- he explains, in response to the sympathetic sigh of the girl keeping him company. -- It's far better than dying of hunger -- and how many of us were in the family?.. A lot, in short, you couldn't feed such a brood. I was about fourteen, northerners at that age already go on their first raid, and to my mind, there's something to it: if someone is of no use in adolescence, will they be in adulthood? Let them die right away, and not waste food. That's when I had to learn to fight -- when almost every outcast has a knife at his belt but no crust of bread for supper, keeping your ration is no easy task. The masters watch the slaves tear at each other and amuse themselves. Such people -- if they don't cut each other up themselves, they at least need to watch how others do it.
-- At least that's honest, -- Dail objects. -- Still better than the Silentium arenas, where rich fat cats watch from a bird's-eye view as people butcher each other trying to earn a few coins. 
-- Agreed. The northerners, albeit in their own way, respect strength -- the Silentium folk merely buy it. Sometimes that respect takes the form of a knife in the back -- until you cross someone's path. Other times it's a chance to be noticed by the right people.
-- Just like with us, right? -- Hans, now completely relaxed and feeling among equals, nods to Hargen.
-- Like everywhere. Only there the right people say it outright -- now we put you on the oars, hand you an axe, and once you and your kind get us to shore -- you go in the front ranks. And if you survive -- you'll get to do it all again, because you'll definitely like it.
-- Did you like it? 
-- Very much. I don't even know what more -- a week at the oars or when you charge into arrows and spears first and go last to the division of spoils: here, take what's beneath us. And somehow you still want to go back, even though it would seem -- the further you go, the higher the chance you'll be killed in a raid, capsized by a storm, or attacked by a sea monster. There was this one islet, not far from the eastern shore -- they said an exiled northern chieftain buried a treasure there. My second voyage, we tried to sail there -- only a measly five hundred meters left when a sea monster attacked. Such a creature... Slimy, vile, huge, with no fewer than a dozen tentacles -- not to be mentioned in the presence of ladies -- strength enough to punch through ship planks with ease. We all piled on it with our oars, drove it off by a miracle. I was sure I'd die that day -- the ship's bottom was breached, half the crew dead, but it wasn't even death that scared me -- worse was the thought that there could be many such creatures out there. Somehow we made it back, plugging the holes with our own backsides, praying to all the gods to let us survive and to the Void -- to die quickly and without pain.
Sigebar downs his mug of beer in one gulp, shuddering whether from the alcohol or the memories.

Almost forgot: Sandar, Cassius +1 OU for unarmed combat, Hargen +2

Added 10 minutes later
Cassius successfully makes it to the tavern, where Odenat, Byson, Glenn, and Rigobert have already evicted the shady characters from the far corner and taken their place. Does that mean the shady characters in the corner are now them?
-- Found us a spot, even better than I thought -- Rigobert, despite the good news, looks tired and somewhat irritated, his eyes darting from side to side, as if looking for something or someone to sink his teeth into. -- It's all handled, the bald one won't bother us. 

Added 3 minutes later

- What do you got down there in the slums, some kind of menagerie? You lot can't keep yourselves in check at all? The slightest thing and it's "chaos, storm, madness"? If I flew into a fight over the slightest scuffle, there'd be no slums left at all. Everything would lie in coals and ashes...
- And what, you can summon storms and chaos too?
- And why would you "catch a beating"? You're supposed to be the authority among the outcasts. You said so yourself...

-- I can, but only in the souls of little people -- that's far scarier... This is a decent, well, more decent society than the slums, but it doesn't make it any easier for me -- if I run into the offended wife of one of my, hmm, "victims" here -- they'll most likely try to scratch my eyes out.

or when you rush to the front lines with arrows and spears, but you're last in line when it comes to dividing the loot: take what's rightfully ours. And for some reason, you still feel drawn back.

Good job, keep it up.

It would be worth it, because while everyone was relaxing in the tavern, enjoying a friendly gathering, Cassius, pretending to be a special snowflake, broke away from the group and is now heading in the opposite direction from the others.
-- This is how you see who's noble and who's not, -- Rainulf muttered, passing by Cassius.
-- And glory to the Void – I wouldn't want to live with such a sour expression... I'd rather be a poor homeless person than a titled snob.
-- Seriously, what's the point of money and lineage if you live like a hermit?

Judging by the text below, I can no longer react to the fact that Cassius might have heard something. Oh well.

Cassius successfully reaches the tavern, where Odenat, Baison, Glenn, and Rigobert have already kicked out the shady characters from the corner and taken their place. Does this mean that they themselves are now the shady characters in the corner?
-- Found us a place, even better than I thought -- Rigobert looks tired and annoyed, despite the good news, his eyes dart from side to side, as if looking for something or someone to latch onto. -- Everything is under control, the baldy won't interfere with us.

- Sit aside for a moment while I talk.
Giving the slave a few coins, enough for one meal and a mug of beer, Cassius joined the shady characters.

- What kind of place is this? - he asks Rigobert.

Judging by the text below, I can no longer react to the fact that Cassius might have heard it. Oh well.

Cassius couldn't have heard it, because it was said after they had already passed each other.

-- Basement in the slums -- there's plenty of space, no one will interfere. I cleaned it myself last night.

-- I can, but only in the souls of people – and that’s much scarier... Here, it’s decent, well, relatively decent compared to a slum, but it doesn’t make things any easier for me – if I happen to run into a wronged wife of one of my, hmm, "victims" here, they’ll probably try to gouge my eyes out.

- Alright, you’ve convinced me. But... everything I spend today, you’ll have to make up for. “Overtime,” so to speak...

They head to a double room. Beer and a shave are still on the menu.

Cassius couldn't hear that, because it was said after they had already passed each other.

-- The basement in the slums – there's plenty of space, no one will interfere. I cleaned it myself last night.

- The slums? - Cassius frowned. - A disgusting place, but for a good fight… I can endure it.

- Alright, you've convinced me. But... you'll work off everything I spend today. "Overtime," so to speak...

-- I'll work it off for you right now, sir. Oh, wait. You mean it literally, right?

After washing and shaving, Voldemar receives:
+1 HP permanently
+2 to Etiquette until the end of the phase
+20 HP, +2 to Etiquette and Charisma until the end of the day

Added 2 minutes later

- Slums? - Cassius frowned. - A terrible place, but for a good fight... it's worth enduring.

-- Don't worry, Sir Cassius – after the last few days, it's quieter than a mouse there. But it's better not to take your wallet.
-- We could also use a good medic, -- Glenn reminds. -- Do you have anyone in mind?
-- I have one in my department who dabbles in medicine, but it would be better to find someone else.

-- Don't worry, Sir Cassius, things have been quiet as a mouse there since the last few days. But it's best not to take your wallet.
-- We could also use a good medic, -- Glenn reminds us. -- Do you have anyone in mind?
-- I have one in my department who dabbles in medicine, but it would be better to find someone else.

- I'm worried about my nose and boots... My slave is supposed to study to be a medic. Maybe your guy from the department can tutor her in the process.

– He might teach you something, but if you value your life, I’ll be honest, it’s better to find a better teacher.

- Hmm, I can't think of anyone else right now.

-- Yes, I'll get right on it, sir. Oh, wait. You mean it literally, right?

After washing and shaving, Voldemar receives:
+1 HP permanently
+2 to Etiquette until the end of the phase
+20 HP, +2 to Etiquette and Charisma until the end of the day

- We'll talk about the "repayment" later. For now, you need to dress more appropriately.

They head to the artisans.

- Hey, what's with that basement you have? Does it have something to do with the house? Is it also yours? Well, it used to be yours, now it's mine? - Voldemar asks the witch on the way.

Added 2 minutes later

-- He might teach you something, but if you value your life, I'll be honest, it's better to find a better teacher.

There is one. A student of Master Gas. Quite capable, by the way. But he charges by taking (blood).

- I understand! With age, he lost his virility and now has to rely on his subordinates! It's not a problem; it will happen to all of us! Or rather, to you, - the Lady looks up from the paper, seeing only a retreating back. - ... Well, okay.
Leaving the strange servant to his affairs, she continues with the plan.

After receiving a slap on the backside from a guard – the standard fee for entry into the noble quarter for women of her profession – Tifa successfully makes her way to the sheriff's residence, which, at least from the outside, doesn't impress with its luxury – a small, sturdy building, around which patrols of guards are plentiful.

Inside, she finds even more guards, one of whom escorts her to the main hall, where, in addition to the sheriff and several women dressed similarly to Tifa, she sees three other notable people.

The burly man clicks his tongue contentedly and nods, the smoker is silent but looks with interest, and only the old man behaves like a gentleman.
-- Lady Tifa? Very, very pleased, Tankred Vigy at your service, -- taking Tifa by the elbow, he offers her wine and seats her in a luxurious armchair – there are no others to be found in the sheriff's inner chambers, which, although they don't sparkle with gold, are executed according to all the rules of bourgeois elegance. -- Oswald, you old rogue! That's the decoration for the evening that you promised us.
-- Yes, the sheriff knows how to keep his word! -- the burly man laughs, and if Tifa didn't understand the joke, the smiles of the other guests make it clear that she is indeed beautiful.
-- This house is only for the best people in the city! -- the sheriff declares, and the burly man and the old man can no longer contain their laughter. -- I am glad that you have honored us with your visit, Lady – we don't have dull evenings here, but this one will be even better than usual.

- Hmm, I can't think of anyone else right now.

-- Then we're all going to die. Only one will remain and get the money for the bodies, -- says Bison, and, facing puzzled looks, explains. -- Just kidding.
-- Ha-ha-ha!
-- Ho-ho-ho!
-- Heh.

-- Then we'll all die. Only one will remain and get the money for the bodies, -- says Bison and, facing puzzled looks, explains. -- Just kidding.
-- Ha-ha-ha!
-- Ho-ho-ho!
-- Heh.

- Heh-heh. So, will you show me the place? - Cassius asked Rigobert.

-- Yeah, let's go.
Rigobert and his companions leave the tavern, scaring away all the scum who hadn't yet managed to hide in their holes, and arrive at a rather decent-looking house in the middle of the slums.
-- There used to be some fanatical cultists hanging around here, or something like that, but since we wiped them out, it's now nobody's.
They continue on, descending into the basement. Rigobert lights a torch.
-- There are some pickles over there, by the way – a great snack, but you might end up with an upset stomach later. But we need to go this way, -- he points to the stairs leading to a narrow corridor. -- We cleared out the traps, but it's better to stick to the left side just in case.
After passing through two corridors, they enter a spacious hall with a pedestal. The floor is abundantly decorated with dried blood; it's cold, damp, dirty, and so depressing that even the rats haven't bothered to visit.
-- Awesome, right?

Added 3 minutes ago

- Hey, what kind of basement was that? Does it have anything to do with the house? Is it also yours? Well, I mean, it used to be yours, but now it's mine? - Voldemar asks the witch along the way.

-- It's kind of state property, but since no one wanted it for free, you can try to claim it. It's very old, built during the Empire, so it's technically on your land, but it's also kind of its own thing.

They can find a blacksmith, armorer, tailor, alchemist, laundress, and many others among the craftsmen – the question is, who does Voldemar need?

Added 16 minutes ago

what about just armor penetration? you could keep that one. the main thing is to come up with something, not to teach

You can. But since armor penetration already exists in the basic branch, full armor penetration is also x10.