Posts from Pursuit of the Sun 1.2

Rounding according to the rules. It's nine o'clock in the evening.

Rounding according to the rules. It's nine o'clock in the evening.

You can't die from bleeding, apparently? That's strange...

After the auction, Voldemar and his dog go after the witch.

Cassius successfully reaches the basement club, where, in addition to those present yesterday, there is a shaggy northerner who was bargaining for a wolfhound, and another ten ordinary guards. Rigobert didn't waste time – now they have blunted weapons of all kinds and a medic – all that remains is to hope that he is not as bad as they say.

– Come on, you slobs, let's go! Lie down! Get up! Jump! – these shouts from the sergeant are clearly not addressed to Cassius, but to his subordinates, whom he is already driving around the hall, waving a whip. – Those who don't train their speed will train to take a hit! – the whip hits the slowest one, and he falls to the ground. – Ah, Sir Knight Cassius! I told you, this is a wonderful Dungeon, my guys like it too. Choose whoever you want, fight. Either for money or for free. Hmm... Maybe I should arrange a fight for you against ten ordinary soldiers at once? Although, no – if they can't handle it, I won't even have enough imagination to punish them enough for that.

You're not the right character, sergeant, to arrange a "fight" with ten ordinary soldiers. 😏

Cassius smiled slightly.
- There are ways to punish for that, but I'm afraid the ordinary soldiers will spoil...

The Knight looked around at those present and noticed the northerner. He approached him and greeted him.

- Cassius Aurelius from Legran. And what is your name?

-- Thorstein Ragnarsson is my name, -- the northerner extends his hand to Cassius, his piercing gaze from under low eyebrows surveys the knight's equipment, and a bushy mustache curls into a smile -- something in the appearance of his interlocutor seemed interesting to him. -- I've seen your battles. You fight well. Why didn't you take the championship, in your opinion?

Added 3 minutes later

You can't die from bleeding, apparently? That's strange...

After the auction, Voldemar and his dog go after the witch.

The witch is unexpectedly found not at the medic's, but in the refectory.
-- Oh, my lord! -- the witch almost chokes with greed, but a sip of beer helps her clear her throat. -- Oh, what a cute dog! What's his name? Where did you find him?

- I hope we'll find a common language. - Voldemar says to the dog on the way. - I guess I'll call you... Obben! I haven't heard such names in these parts. But that only emphasizes your individuality and uniqueness!

The witch is suddenly discovered not at the doctor's, but in the dining hall. -- Goodness! -- the witch almost chokes with greed, but a sip of beer helps her clear her throat. -- Oh, what a cute dog! What's his name? Where did you find him?

- I bought him at an auction. His name is Obben. He's a guard, bodyguard, and tracker all in one! - And what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be "in class"?

Ottar pondered his life deeply.

He thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought and thought...

...for a whole hour, but it felt like weeks had passed.

What was Ottar wasting his life on? Sucking the blood of elders and dreaming about devouring everyone. Success in life only came after decades of sluggish work... and even then, there was a good chance it would all end within a month when the expedition began, from which no one could guarantee a safe return.

What did Ottar believe in? In a sect of vagrants and drug addicts. There was nothing majestic, powerful, or influential about it. It was still better than the Void, may it perish along with all its followers, but it couldn't compare to his father's faith in fire. Blood... it exists on its own. But it has no normal followers, only a handful of eternally hungry fools like Ottar.

Who was Ottar in love with? With a dream, with a wonderful fantasy about a beautiful woman in red... maybe she never existed, or maybe she died long ago. Or maybe she does exist. Who knows? Ottar felt that she did exist, but can you trust your feelings when you are such an idiot?

What is Ottar's plan? He doesn't have one. Perfect.

"I am such a fool," thought the Blood Drinker, taking a good look at himself in the augur mirror. "And what did Master Gas see in me... probably just because there aren't any other young healers in the capital."

Today is the day of crap (the Void). And today, Ottar was going to meet that guy with the strange book, which was potentially dangerous for the psyche. When else would he try to sell someone this junk if not today... but as the Voidists say, nothing will happen today. And selling the book is business. And who is the Blood Drinker to break this idiotic rule, which is as idiotic as he is?

So, Ottar goes to the meeting, the time and place of which he set himself. Therefore, everything was safe for the person of the Blood Drinker. In fact, he could have broken his promise, citing medical matters or the Day of the Void, but... especially today, he had a particularly strong desire to engage in some vigorous activity.

Ottar lacked friends in life. Fortunately, almost everyone in this glorious city had the same problem.

Ottar definitely had a mental breakdown after all that thinking... :D

- I hope we can find a common language. - Voldemar says to the dog on the way.
- I guess I'll call you... Obben! I haven't heard such names in these parts. But that only emphasizes your individuality and uniqueness!
- I bought him at an auction. His name is Obben. He's a guard, bodyguard, and tracker all in one!
- And what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be "in class"?

-- Well, it's nighttime, and everything is over for today. The teacher has already gone to sleep.

Received 100 points of psychic damage, Ottar's brain explodes, Ottar dies.

-- Well, it's late, time for bed. The teacher has already gone to sleep.

- I see... So, how are things going? How much progress have you made in your "resuscitation skills"?
- And is there free food for students here?

– Wow, that must have been expensive, – the sorceress tried to pat Oben on the head, but he wasn’t in the mood to interact with elderly, red-haired sorceresses and, deftly dodging her, hurried to explore the room. – It’s fine. I spent about six hours. I convinced the seneschal that you would be unhappy if your slave was hungry, thin, and sick. I wanted to get us some luxurious rooms with a fireplace, but I was turned down.

-- Wow, he must be expensive, -- the witch tried to pat Oben on the head, but he wasn't inclined to interact with elderly red-haired witches and, deftly dodging, hurried to explore the room.

- No-no... He only recognizes his master! So keep your paws away, or he'll bite! I'll be the one feeding him from now on!

-- It's fine. I spent about six hours.

"Ha! In that time, I managed to train with the constable for 8 hours and spend another 3 hours at the auction. And you spent 6 hours? Ah... the doctor is busy, I understand... patients, prescriptions..." thought Voldemar, but said nothing, only smiling slightly...

I convinced the seneschal that you would be unhappy if your slave was hungry, thin, and sick. She wanted to get us some rich rooms with a fireplace, but they sent her away.

"You might as well have asked for a palace with servants for the night..."

- And did you happen to ask for a meal for me at the same time? Because the market is probably already closed... we didn't make it...

-- My name is Thorstein Ragnarsson, -- the northerner extends his hand to Cassius, a sharp gaze from under low eyebrows surveys the knight's equipment, and a bushy mustache curls into a smile -- something in the appearance of his interlocutor seemed interesting to him. -- I saw your battles. You fight well. Why didn't you take the championship, in your opinion?

Cassius shakes Thorstein's hand.

- Thank you for the kind words. I think I lacked strength and accuracy. There is something to improve.

Added 4 minutes ago

Ottar thought deeply about his life.

The Hv-shnik thought deeply about his life*

Received 100 psychic damage, Ottar's brain explodes, Ottar dies

Explodes like an overripe watermelon*

– Maybe we need a little luck? – Thorstein meaningfully touched the amulet around his neck. – Ask, and I’ll trade luck and bones for silver.

- Hmm. Maybe it's a good idea... And will you participate in the battles? Or are you just here as a spectator?