From atop a grassy knoll, you look down upon a border town.

It's a small little village, with thatched roof cottages giving way to town houses with tile roofs as they get closer to the stone church that stands at its heart. To the ungrateful worms who call this place their home, it must be an impressive structure. A black monument of stone and steel placed to honor the demons who so graciously allowed their inferior lives to continue in exchange for a pittance in tribute. To one who has grow up amongst the demons in their cities, who received their blessings from a young age, it is nearly as pathetic as the worms you've been sent to crush beneath your heels.

"You appear to be enjoying your first command, Lady Clearwater," a rumbling voice approaches from your side. You do not need to turn your eyes to know that it is the lich Dormandal. A wise old sorcerer, and the closest thing you have to a father. "Does the prospect of slaughtering your fellow mortals truly bring you such joy?"

"Of course, my lord," you cannot keep the excitement out of your voice. "Nothing would bring me greater joy that to see all of these pathetic traitors laid out for the slaughter. To see the menfolk butchered like pigs. The woman turned into playthings for our brave soldiers..."

Dormandal gives a hollow chuckle. "Hah, I think you're the only one looking to get her lance wet. The rest of the men..."

He waves a bony hand at the forces set out behind you. One hundred rune carved skeletons split into four platoons of twenty five, each led by a skeletal champion with sufficient wits about them to lead their mindless brothers. Their bones glitter in the morning sun, dipped in steel and carved with magic runes that grant them strength and speed beyond the ken of ordinary undead. A force that cannot be scoffed at, yet at the same time insignificant enough to entrust to a freshly minted knight, thrust into command not one week after receiving her armor and her lance.

"...well, they lack the means to enjoy such things," he finishes. With a hollow chuckle, he continues. "Even I, who retain far more memories of flesh and life than they... I can appreciate what comes after a battle on an aesthetic level, but it truly doesn't do it for me."

You wave him off. "Even if my soldiers can't enjoy themselves, I'm sure the patrons of the military brothels in the capital will appreciate the spoils of this victory."

"I'm sure they'll be thrilled to receive your leftovers," Dormandal says with a shake of his head. "Ah, to be young and vigorous again. Just remember that the fun comes after the battle is won, and not before, my dear Lady Clearwater."

Your fingers drum upon the hilt of your sword. Your blackened lips curl into a frown. "I haven't forgotten, my lord. I'm simply still getting used to the Ravager's blessings. It's a truly fine lance that I've been given, but it stirs a certain eagerness in my heart that I've yet to become accustomed to."

>>6258304 (OP)

"Well, don't let it get the better of you." Dormandal floats forward. His cloak trails upon the grass, and the golden runes sewn into its purple velvet glimmer with power as he surveys the village for himself. "This is your first command, after all. I believe you have the potential to go far in the Dreadknight Legion, but the outcome your first command will follow you to end of your career. Be sure to make the best of it, lest you walk down a path that will see you returned to pit that I plucked you from."

You shudder at the thought. "I shall keep that in mind."

Before you can linger too long upon your memories of the pit and become despondent, the worms of the village send out their riders. Seven men in armor upon seven horses, a holy number to the fools that follow the corpse of the dead god Luminare, the Lord of Light. The lead rider carries the same white-gold banner that now flies over the church at the center of the village. A blasphemy that offends to your very core; that place should be reserved for the worship of your demon masters, not whatever angels remain outside of captivity.

"How adorable, the wretches come to beg for their lives," Dormandal floats back from the crest of the hill, putting an affectionate bony hand upon your shoulder. The sockets of his gilded skull flicker with purple flames, looking into your eyes. "How do you intend to deal with these, Lady Clearwater?"
>The Dreadknight Legion does not negotiate with rebel scum. Kill them all and sack the village. If there's a beauty among them, have some fun with her before the battle.
>Listen to their calls and make pretend that you've "heard" them. Let them return to their village with false hope that you will dash later.
>Throw their righteousness back into their faith. You are here to remove these dangerous fanatics who have made the villagers their shield.
>Explain to them in very plain language how their loved ones are going to die, horrifically, and what you will do their lovers, wives, and sisters.
>Write in?

Every Dreadknight specializes in one discipline or another, even when command is your primary role. What discipline did you choose?
>Powerful and mystical forms of martial arts and sword techniques.
>The higher mysteries of the arcane.
>The higher mysteries of the divine.
>The use and invocation of reliquary weapons and armors.
>The magics invoked through music and the arts.
>The boundless mysteries of the realm of dreams.

>>6258306
So it really doesn't look like we value order, stability, civility or much beyond loyalty to this "ravager".
All that being said, normally I would appeal for knowledge to make an informed choice. But here we do not seem to value understanding when the pertinent facts are all arrayed. They are traitors.

>The legion does not negotiate You will kill them all.
>Kill the first riders personally with two detatchments to encircle the village so they don't escape.

>Mystical use of reliquary weapons and armour
This is rare enough to be novel

>>6258306
>The Dreadknight Legion does not negotiate with rebel scum. Kill them all and sack the village.
>The use and invocation of reliquary weapons and armors.
Arcane Blacksmithing to strengthen the skelly boys with powerful equipment? Hell yeah!

>>6258306
>The Dreadknight Legion does not negotiate with rebel scum. Kill them all and sack the village. If there's a beauty among them, have some fun with her before the battle.
>The higher mysteries of the divine.

>>6258306
>The Dreadknight Legion does not negotiate with rebel scum. Kill them all and sack the village. If there's a beauty among them, have some fun with her before the battle.
>The use and invocation of reliquary weapons and armors.

>>6258306
>Write in
kill everyone who fights, raise them to watch the others.
>The use and invocation of reliquary weapons and armors.

>>6258306
>The Dreadknight Legion does not negotiate with rebel scum. Kill them all and sack the village. If there's a beauty among them, have some fun with her before the battle.
A very straightforward message to anyone else who is planning to rebel too
>The use and invocation of reliquary weapons and armors.
I was thinking about knowing thy enemy by learning about the divine, but reliquary weapons sounds more interesting

>>6258304 (OP)
>"I haven't forgotten, my lord. I'm simply still getting used to the Ravager's blessings. It's a truly fine lance that I've been given, but it stirs a certain eagerness in my heart that I've yet to become accustomed to."
so we're a futa ? zam
>>6258306
>Seven men in armor upon seven horses, a holy number to the fools that follow the corpse of the dead god Luminare, the Lord of Light.
is it a big E situation ?

>Listen to their calls and make pretend that you've "heard" them. Let them return to their village with false hope that you will dash later.

>The use and invocation of reliquary weapons and armors.

>>6258306
>Explain to them in very plain language how their loved ones are going to die, horrifically, and what you will do their lovers, wives, and sisters.
>The use and invocation of reliquary weapons and armors.

>>6258306
>oh, another Knight quest! Surely it must be full of virtuous deeds!
>look inside

oh.

>Hah, I think you're the only one looking to get her lance wet.

fullyequipped.mp4

>The Dreadknight Legion does not negotiate with rebel scum. Kill them all and sack the village. If there's a beauty among them, have some fun with her before the battle.

more dead for the undead

>The use and invocation of reliquary weapons and armors.

let's dig out grandpa's old cudgel

this started with an interesting hook QM. let's see how it goes.

Rolled 17, 16 = 33 (2d20)

First Roll adds Intimidation Bonus to cow the envoys. DC 15 for the full effect.
Second Roll adds Blade of the Defiler's attack bonus to slay the envoys. DC 15 or 1d4 escape.

Lady Saligia Clearwater
Level 3 Human (Demontouched) Antipaladin
Alignment Chaotic Evil
STR 21 (+5), DEX 14 (+2), CON 17 (+3), INT 12 (+1), WIS 10 (+0), CHA 19 (+4)
HP 39/39, Wounds 0/3, Essence 4, AC 21, Ability DC 16
Proficiency +2, Saves Wisdom +2, Charisma +6
Skills Athletics +7, Insight +2, Intimidation +6, Performance +6, Persuasion +6

Attacks
Gauntlets +7, 1d4+7 Bludgeoning
Blade of the Defiler +8, 1d8+10 Profane (+2d6 Smite)

Class Abilities
Reliquary Invocation - You gain the ability to invoke reliquary equipment of great mystical power, called relics. Invoking reliquary equipment is done at the end of a long rest, though you may choose to change one invocation for another during the course of a short rest. You may invoke 2 relics at first level, and an additional relic every odd level thereafter.
Essence - You gain a pool of essence equal to your level that may be used to empower your reliquary invocations. You assign essence when you invoke your relics at the start of each day, though you may change it freely throughout the day.
Smite Good - You deal 2d6 extra damage against Good aligned creatures when attacking with a weapon.
Divine Health - You are immune to diseases.
Despoiling Aura - Creatures within 10 feet of you must succeed at a Wisdom saving throw or have a point of essence corrupted. If they have no essence, they instead take 3 Profane damage. When you slay a mortal creature with profane damage, you may choose to corrupt them instead. On a successful Charisma saving throw, they die as normal, but failure turns them into a mindless living servant.
Fighting Style - You deal two additional damage when wielding a one handed weapon alone.

Racial Abilities
Bonus Skill - Gain proficiency in Performance
Bonus Feat - Gain the Bestow Relic feat.
Darkvision - You have darkvision for 60ft.
Demonblood - You may grant a willing creature (or one that you have at your mercy) a profane gift by having them imbibe of your blood, your saliva, or other bodily fluids. A creature who receives such a gift increases one of their ability scores by 2, but must succeed on a DC 16 Charisma Save every day or have their alignment shift one step towards chaotic evil.

Feats
Bestow Relic - You may grant a number of minions equal to your Charisma Modifier a lesser version of your relics. They do not receive the benefits of any essence invested or bind effects, but they do receive the base effect of the relic. You may only grant relics that you currently have invoked. Your essence increases by 1.

>>6258833
Relics Invoked
These are the relics you normally invoke. You may bind a relic to invoked through your hand chakra. You may shape three relics, and invest up to 2 points of essence in any one relic.

Blade of the Defiler (Hand) - This storied blade has served the Dreadknights since the death of Luminare. It deals profane damage; creatures wounded by the weapon do not heal from a short or a long rest, nor do they benefit from fast healing against these wounds. Attempting to heal this damage with magic requires a successful constitution save from the creature being healed.

Each point of essence invested increases the damage dealt by 1.

This relic is bound to your Hand Chakra. When a creature fails to be healed from the wounds dealt by this blade through magic, you deal damage to them as if you've struck them with this blade.

Tainted Bulwark (Body) - This relic takes the form of a skintight living bodysuit that can be worn beneath your clothes and armor. The first time a creature would deal damage to you in a post, you reduce that damage by your level plus your total essence (7).

Each point of essence invested reduces all damage taken by 1.

Chaps of the Pale Rider (Feet) - These riding chaps match the description of those worn by one of the legendary Four Horsemen, the dreadknights who slew Luminare in the name of the Demon King. Invoking this relic allows you to summon a pale horse that can stride upon water and snow.

Each point of essence invested increases the speed of the summoned horse by 5ft (3mph at gallop, 1mph at trot).

Intimidation 23 vs DC 15. It's super effective!
Attack of 24 vs DC 15. It's super effective!

The column of seven riders approaches your camp slower than you would have expected. By the time they've reached the adamant bulwarks that your skeletal forces have deployed, you've had time to have one of your champions erect a pavilion to great them with afternoon tea. You forget how primitive things are out here in the boondocks, where none of their horses have been crossbred with angels or demons to grant them greater speed and endurance.

Even the largest of them, rode by the only man wearing a proper harness, is still slow and winded compared to the pale horse you've been granted as a summon.

Still, for a steed with no magical weight to it, it's an impressive thing.

So too is the man who dismounts from it. Tall and clad in steel, broad of shoulder and thick with muscle. A full head of blonde hair crowns his handsome face, and a thick mustache rests overtop his lips. Stern and wary eyes appraise your camp, drifting from banner to banner. His brow furrows with their unfamiliar sigil, until his eyes reach the banner atop Dormandal's tent; the general standard of the Dreadknight Legion.

That banner is a field of gold trimmed in black, a black sword piercing through a seven-sided ring of eyes and fire in a death blow. A sigil made after the death of Luminare, representing the Four Horsemen's triumph over the Lord of Light and his angels.

The banners that made his brow furrow were your own. A field of black trimmed with red, signifying your allegiance and loyalty to the Ravager and his legions. Upon the field, your personal crest. A golden skull in recognition of your training to command forces of the undead. A tangle of vines running through it to recognize your skill in defilement and corruptive magics. Two roses blooming from its eyes, showing your preference for making allies from your enemies.

Their willingness, of course, is not a factor.

"Dreadknight..." breathes out one of the cowards who chose to remain on his horse. The fear in his voice, the way his body shudders at the realization that their little rebellion kicked the hornet's nest, it brings a smile to your face. Especially when you see the lovely young woman with bright red braids hiding behind the men, her mare stepping backwards and her hands clutching a seven pointed star.

They brought you a little treat. How lovely~

"Steady on, Grant," the burly fellow says. He finally turns his eyes to you and the pavilion set up outside the bulwark. You lounge upon a love seat that your skeletons set out for you, one leg kicked up over the armrest while the other hangs limply. He clicks his tongue at your unsightly posture and says, "The Lord of Light is with us, and so are the Marcher Lords of the Thornlands. See, they don't like having an Imperial village so close to their borders, which is why they made us a sweet deal to swear fealty to Marquis Edel-"

>>6258888
"I'm sorry, sir, do you mean to tell me that you haven't rode out here to bend the knee and beg forgiveness?" you ask. Of course, you wouldn't have accepted that regardless; their heresy, their raising the banner of the Lord of Light is unforgivable. But it's fun to let them know how little you care for what allies they have. The Empire holds all the cards in war and commerce, its neighbors exist only because they are allowed to. "Here I was hoping to welcome you back to the fold as brothers, and figure out over tea how we might brush this foolishness aside. But if that's not what you're here for..."

The burly man's eyes narrow. Alas, he can read through your bullshit, and knows in his heart that you never intended to let any of the villagers walk away with their free will intact. His companions, however...

"We can make amends...?"
"The dreadknight is willing to forgive us?"
"We should abandon the village while we can..."

"Enough!" the woman in the back silences the five men-at-arms whose whispers spoke volumes of their cowardice. Her hands tremble on the reins of her mare as she brings it up towards the pavilion. The burly man has a small smile on his face, is that pride? Perhaps in the woman he loves? That would be delightful. "It... it was my father's oath that gave Bright Springs to the Empire, n-not mine. Father passed away in winter, and th-the Empire didn't send a representative. So when Marquis Edelweiss arrived with aid for my people, requesting fealty... how could I say no?"

The young woman's beauty stirred your lance the moment you laid eyes upon her. Her auburn hair, fair skin, the freckles dancing upon her face, the curves that her homespun clothing cannot hide... those excited you to be sure. But to see that she has such a sweet, dutiful soul... "You put your people ahead of your safety. How admirable!"

It makes your whole body pulse with excitement.

Even her chief guards' words cannot dim your excitement when he stalks forward and says, "You heard my lady. The people of Bright Springs owe their fealty to her, and the Empire never had her fealty to begin with. If you truly admire her dedication to her people, than take your forces back to the capital and leave our village be."

"Oh I truly admire her willingness to put her life on the line," you say, rising from your seat with a languid stretch. The armored man takes a step back, his hand reaching for his arming sword. The cowards serving him have their horses take a step back, almost ready to bolt. "However, there is a rule that I am bound to, which I cannot forsake."

Your intention clicks in the leader's head. "We came under a banner of parley. Would you shame yourself and-"

He does not finish his sentence. Your blade - a black sword that oozes with demonic corruption - has pierced his throat. It leaves no wound behind as you slash his throat, though the profane energies that now course through him will be enough to see him dead... or turned.

Rolled 11, 4, 14, 17, 15, 9 = 70 (6d20)

>>6258891
The other men at arms turn to flee at the sight of their commander's death, but you already anticipated their cowardice. Their horses scream in pain as caltrops laid by your skeletons pierce their hooves and send them buckling to the ground. Like a streak of black lightning you move to end the dismounted men before they can get onto their feet. The Blade of the Defiler finds the gaps in their paltry armor, piercing their vitals and flooding their bodies with profane energies.

"You... you broke parley..." the lady in charge of the village slumps upon her horse. She doesn't even bother to try and flee, seeing how swiftly her men-at-arms went down. The acrid stench of urine fills the air as she wets herself, but that does nothing to curb your excitement at her fear. "The... the gods will punish you for this! You'll face eternal damnation...!"

Pulling her from her mare, you bring her into an embrace. Her body shudders in fear, but she can't bring herself to fight back.

"My lady, I'm already damned," you whisper sweetly into her ear. Hoisting her over your shoulder, you carry her back into your camp like a trophy. Indeed, she is a trophy, your first spoils of war, and you intend to keep her for a good long time. "Though I couldn't have broken parley anyways. The Dreadknights have a rule, you see. We do not parley with rebel scum."

"W-What...?" Dazed and confused, the powerless lady can only babble out an inane question.

"Relax. You get to live," you tell her. "Now let's get you cleaned up. I've only got so long, we're attacking at dusk..."

What do you do to get her cleaned up? Of course, you also intend to have some fun with her, but setting matters for this sort of thing.
>Ride off with her to the village's hotsprings and enjoy her there.
>Have your skeletons prepare a bath for the two of you.
>You're too excited for niceties. Clean her off in your tent and go to town.
>(Write in)

What do you do with the corrupted men-at-arms?
>Have them "play" with the noble lady in your tent for shits and giggles after you've had your fill of her.
>They will join the skeletons for the sacking of the village.
>They will return to the village to sabotage whatever paltry defenses they prepared.
>(Write in)

Rolls are the Men-At-Arm's CHA saves. DC is 16 or be turned into corrupted servants. First rolls at +3, the rest at +1

>>6258893
>Have your skeletons prepare a bath for the two of you
>Have them "play" with the noble lady in your tent for shits and giggles after you've had your fill of her
Skellie bros 4 life

>>6258893
>>Ride off with her to the village's hotsprings and enjoy her there.
>They will return to the village to sabotage whatever paltry defenses they prepared.
Good times

>>6258893
>QM delivers

impressive

>>6258833
lovely stat screen, I enjoyed how thorough it is. It's been a minute since I have mastered anything D&D related, so this feels... nostalgic. A big hurrah for our lady of darkness

>mentions spear
>wields a sword

pic related


What do you do to get her cleaned up?
>Ride off with her to the village's hotsprings and enjoy her there.

let the worshippers of a corpse god witness how you enjoy life

What do you do with the corrupted men-at-arms?
>Have them "play" with the noble lady in your tent for shits and giggles after you've had your fill of her.

and if possible do so in the village before their despairing gazes. Also, suggestion: doesn't Daddy Deadbones have some spell to broadcast her plight to the entire village? give her something nice to look at before you send them off to push tulips (or roses, given our preferences)

nice update QM, enjoyed description and dialogue the most

>>6258893
>Ride off with her to the village's hotsprings and enjoy her there.
>They will return to the village to sabotage whatever paltry defenses they prepared.

>>6258893
>Ride off with her to the village's hotsprings and enjoy her there.
>Have them "play" with the noble lady in your tent for shits and giggles after you've had your fill of her
Unlike their corpse god, we know how to reward our unwilling allies
>>6258907
>and if possible do so in the village before their despairing gazes. Also, suggestion: doesn't Daddy Deadbones have some spell to broadcast her plight to the entire village? give her something nice to look at before you send them off to push tulips (or roses, given our preferences)
+1 agreed with anon's suggestion, a spell to broadcast their lady's plight will really crank up the despair factor, what better way to drive home to the villagers on how doomed they all are?
This is looking really fun qm I like how unrepentant she sounds too

>>6258893
>Have your skeletons prepare a bath for the two of you.
>Have them "play" with the noble lady in your tent for shits and giggles after you've had your fill of her.

>>6258893
>Ride off with her to the village's hotsprings and enjoy her there.
Nothing like displaying dominance over your foes by 'taking' their liege in the springs that I assume the village is named for.
>They will return to the village to sabotage whatever paltry defenses they prepared.
Fun as it would be to 'reward' them with her, do we really want to give our first trophy over to some lowly, mindless minions?

>>6258893
>Ride off with her to the village's hotsprings and enjoy her there.

/u/ boat coming through!
... or /d/ if the "lance" isn't as metaphorical as I'd hoped.

>They will return to the village to sabotage whatever paltry defenses they prepared.

Mayhaps I'm just greedy, but I'm pretty sure there's no need to waste a highborn trophy for this kind of stuff. Village girls, on the other hand...

>>6258893
>Ride off with her to the village's hotsprings and enjoy her there.
ntr time

>They will return to the village to sabotage whatever paltry defenses they prepared.
A shame 2 scum died
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oo9buo9Mtos

>>6258907
hey there QM.
>>6258801
>Hah, I think you're the only one looking to get her lance wet.
>fullyequipped.mp4
hopw you're taking notes for that AU

>>6258893
>Ride off with her to the village's hotsprings and enjoy her there.
>They will return to the village to sabotage whatever paltry defenses they prepared.

>>6258901
One might say...evil times! kek

>>6258893
>>Ride off with her to the village's hotsprings and enjoy her there.
>>Have them "play" with the noble lady in your tent for shits and giggles after you've had your fill of her
We reward our minions, that's why they love us

>>6258893
>Ride off with her to the village's hotsprings and enjoy her there.
>They will return to the village to sabotage whatever paltry defenses they prepared.

>>6259177
plenty of village girls out there, not everyone except our bros who brought their own girls for a team building orgy

>>6258893
>Ride off with her to the village's hotsprings and enjoy her there.
>Have them "play" with the noble lady in your tent for shits and giggles after you've had your fill of her

>>6258893
>Have your skeletons prepare a bath for the two of you

>Have them "play" with the noble lady in your tent for shits and giggles after you've had your fill of her.

>>6258893
>Ride off with her to the village's hotsprings and enjoy her there.
>Have them "play" with the noble lady in your tent for shits and giggles after you've had your fill of her

Don't fall for thr First Girl trap again. That's boring.

>>6258893
>Ride off with her to the village's hotsprings and enjoy her there.
>Have them "play" with the noble lady in your tent for shits and giggles after you've had your fill of her
The mind break must be total. She must know that she isn't all that special

>>6259160
hey there anon

>taking notes for that AU

uhhhh... maybe, but if there's a smut piece likely won't be on 4chan, a linked file like before

>>6259157

>as metaphorical

I suppose QM will show his hand soon

>>6258893
>Ride off with her to the village's hotsprings and enjoy her there.
>Have them "play" with the noble lady in your tent for shits and giggles after you've had your fill of her

Rolled 82, 31, 25 = 138 (3d100)

Winning choices are:
>Ride off with her to the village's hotsprings and enjoy her there.
>Have them "play" with the noble lady in your tent for shits and giggles after you've had your fill of her

Rolling for events.
First is to see if you get caught with the Lady in the hotsprings. Lower is getting caught.
Second is to check if Dormandal is willing to bend his roll as observer to broadcast the Lady's violation to the village. You'll need a 90+, as he's a strict fellow.
Third is to see how that goes, if it happens. This is a spectrum, higher is better.

Also please enjoy this character summary for the Man-At-Arms you corrupted. Red dot is how his alignment is currently, white dot was his original alignment.

Note: while he has an INT and a CHA score, due to being Mindless he automatically fails checks and saves for those scores. Anyone attempting to mind control him (Normally a CHA save) would have to succeed on an opposed CHA check against you, similar to someone attempting to use Command Undead on undead creatures you control.

You fetch a change of clothes for the noble woman from your tent. Her current garb is far too modest for her new lot in life. The most flattering thing she wore to greet your army was the corset support her heavy bosom, and truth be told that was far more functional than flashy. The outfit you prepare is more appropriate to the role she shall be given in the Pits, having failed to uphold her ancestral oaths to the empire.

Just looking at it fills you with nostalgia. Your mother's old working clothes, from your days living in the Pits of the capital city. Now, of course, your mother wears fine silks to work and entertains demons and gentlemen of refined taste at court. What she wears beneath those dresses are even flashier than this, but in those bygone days this was all she needed to wear to ply her trade.

Flashy, flattering, and with fine gilding that implied a higher price for her services. Even thinly plated, gold chains upon a slave commanded a customer's attention.

You kept them throughout your years as a squire, even after Dormandal found your mother a place as a courtesan to better match her daughter's status as a Dreadknight. A reminder of where you came from... and to where you could return, if your failures piled up too high too quickly. Lending them to your first trophy taken in battle - even if she's not cute enough to keep around - is a fitting use. How happy it is that she shares your mother's size!

Besides, you have dozens of these outfits in storage. Your mother plied the old trade well enough that she never had to work in the stables for even a single night. She kept good enough track of her clients that you even know the man most likely to be your father. Knowing what her clients liked and didn't like earned her the sort of affection that saw her showered with many gifts; usually flashy outfits they wanted her to wear.

The only one you've no intention of giving to some trophy or another is the one she hand made for you, a few weeks before Dormandal raised you to the squire corps on a whim. That one you'll keep forever, as more than anything else it represents what could have been.

That, and wearing it gives you a delightful thrill. She made it for your coming of age, and it still fits you well.

"Look at me, getting all nostalgic," you chuckle, putting the clean clothes in your bag. The lady has gone still on your shoulder, her eyes far away and despondent. You give her a smack on her plump rump to get her attention. "Hey! Where's a good place to have a bath around these parts? Don't tell me your village is so backwards that you don't have a bathhouse..."

"Huh...?" Her voice is dazed and confused as she answers you. "There's the hotsprings that are halfway up the mountain. It's said that they've been blessed by the angels to restore the health of those who bathe there, but I don't believe those rumors are true..."

>>6259556
"Well, we'll know soon enough," you tell her. She makes a confused sound as you step out of your tent, a bag slung over one shoulder and the lady slung over the other. When you click the spurs upon your boots together - relics summoned with your riding chaps - a pale horse leaps up from your shadow and kneels before you. Demon bred, far sturdier and swifter than the pathetic things those men-at-arms rode in on. Perhaps you'll reward him with the lady's mare later today. "If there's any divine power in that spring, it will be tainted by the time we're finished bathing."

As you slide up behind her on the saddle, she swallows dryly and finds the courage to ask, "What do you mean by that?"

With a cruel grin on your face, you lean forward and press the whole of your body against her back, your chin coming to rest on the nape of her neck. She freezes in place when it suddenly becomes quite apparent at how excited you are to have her at your mercy. The lance the Ravage gifted you upon your ascension to knighthood is a mighty weapon indeed. In a mocking tone, you tell her that, "You'll learn soon enough, my lady. And unless you want your people to suffer harshly, you'll keep your voice down the entire time, understand?"

She nods meekly as you ride off.

When you arrive at the hotsprings, you show her exactly what you meant.

Bright Springs, they named the village and the hotsprings from which much of their wealth derives. Hot water bubbles up from beneath the ground into a wide, expansive pool, rich with minerals and ripe with the subtle stench of divine magic. The water pours out from the great pool into smaller and smaller pools, forming a stairway of hot water that slowly begins to cool. Looking down from above it like watching a honecomb overflow with sparkling blue honey. Even as the sunlight wanes with the coming of dusk, the pools glimmer with light. Further proof of the rogue, unbound angels giving this place its blessing.

You taint the hotsprings right at the source. Right up until dusk you leave the lady of this village with the vain hope that her meek obedience might spare her, but in truth you simply waited for the most powerful timing. Dusk is the triumph of darkness over the light, and as the sun falls your unbloodied lance claims its first victim. As the lady struggles to suppress the urge to scream at the indignities you make her suffer, your own voice sings out in wordless praises of the ravager for allowing your body to feel such resplendent joy.

"Oh...?" Once the first round is up, you spot something in the water that excites you. The lady's maidensblood, mixing with your own midnight-black fluids at the heart of the spring, a profanity that makes the ritual to taint these holy waters all the more potent. "You were a virgin? At twenty seven? How admirable!"

Floating listlessly in the water, the dead-eyed lady of the village softly asks, "Are you done?"

>>6259558
The stench of divinity has grown weaker, but it has hardly faded from these waters. If you don't snuff it out completely, then it might eventually burn away all of your hard work. Where else will you find a virgin woman with such a powerful connection to the land, one born of her family's stewardship of these springs for nearly ten generations? Your lance deflowered this woman, and she has no siblings or heirs just yet. Further, any heirs of hers would be born in the Pits, severing the bond her family has with the land and making them useless for such a ritual.

No, the only way you can be sure is to violate her in ways profane and brutal, until the light fades from her eyes and the color of these pools darken into a reflection of the night sky. Besides which, your lance stirs in anticipation of another round or three. Picking her up gently, you plant a tender kiss upon her lips that she tearfully returns. Then, holding her in a tight embrace, you let your true feelings into your voice and whisper. "No."

Pushing her down into the waters, you return to your brutal work with wordless praises of the Ravager upon your tongue.

=================

Dormandal is there at the edge of the camp when you ride back from the hotsprings, the flames in his eyesockets dancing ever playfully. The lady of the camp rides limply before you, all fire and spirit and hope replaced with a near lifeless fugue. Her mind is far, far away after everything you did to her. Her attitude nearly caused the ritual to fail, as once she stopped responding to the torments you inflicted upon her, your excitement waned. But you did your duty and finished the job.

Her simple, homespun attire that she soiled in her fear has been burnt, replaced by your mother's old work clothes. Flashy and flattering, black with gold accents, the clothes suit her new lot in life and show off the profane gift that you gave her. Her charm has increased greatly, and the corruption has begun to run through her flesh. Soon enough she might even realize the joys her new life will grant her, though for now her spirit remains dreadfully dull and prudish.

"You look like you had a good time," Dormandal comments as you dismount. With a wry grin, he says, "You're a few hours late to attack at dusk, though."

"I found something interesting in the mountains," you tell him. You motion for him to walk with you, as you carry the lady to your tent. "A pocket of light that may have spurred a few hearts in this village towards rebellion, and the apostasy of Luminare. Our lady here helped me snuff it out... and even replace it with a font of darkness, a scar on the land from the Ravager. Did you know she was a virgin?"

"At her age?" Dormandal looks as surprised as you were pleased at that discovery. "How admirable."

>>6259561
The Empire does not prize virginity as much as its neighbors did, so meeting a virgin approaching thirty is a rarity indeed. Women have no shortage of eager partners, and men can visit the stables and punish the disobedient if they can't find love or afford something better. A few strive to keep theirs, believing it will enhance their magic powers if they make it to 25 or 30 without knowing the touch of a lover, but those folk are considered quite eccentric. While this was your first time wetting the lance the Ravager gifted you, you're a twenty nine year old woman. You've had your share of lovers.

"Now, what do you plan to do with her, I wonder?" Dormandal asked a rather personal question, though you don't mind. He's more of a father to you the man who impregnated your mother, certainly. "You dressed her in your mother's clothes... out of convenience, or affection? Some Dreadknights enjoy keeping their first trophy around, even as others toss them away. What will you do, Lady Clearwater?"

You shake your head to the negative. "She broke too easily. I can hardly call a broken toy a trophy, can I? I might keep her around as a camp follower, but she's too weak to stand beside me. No, I think I'll give her to the men as a morale officer. After all, the corruption will drive them wild if they don't have a proper outlet. Best to give them one, right?"

"Of course," the old lich says, his voice echoing with amusement.

You give her over to the corrupted men-at-arms that you brought to your side, leaving her in the capable hands of the man you assume she called out to for help. Detlev, you believe she named him. That almost brings back a glimmer of hope to her eyes, but when they start peeling your mother's clothes off of her body, her mind goes right back into hiding. No doubt she's trying to convince herself that her new reality is a nightmare.

Considering how weak willed she is, you suspect it will only take a week or so for your profane gift to take its toll upon her psyche and bring her around to a better way of thinking. One where she not only accepts her lot in life, but embraces it wholeheartedly. You almost wish you could undo the death stroke upon him when that happened, to taste his despair at seeing what his lady has become.

For now, though, you need to focus. Turning to one of your skeletal champions, you command, "All companies prepare for battle. We raze Bright Springs to the ground. Leave the children unharmed, they are not responsible for their parents' treachery and can be reeducated. As for the men and women..."
>Kill them all. There shall be no mercy for those who betray the Empire.
>Slaughter the men, capture the women. Their bones shall serve our forces, and their bodies shall serve the men of the Empire.
>Capture them all. The worst shall be executed. The rest shall be sorted out, hard labor or the pleasure Pits.
>(Write In)

>>6259562
>Kill them all. There shall be no mercy for those who betray the Empire.

>>6259562
>Slaughter the men, capture the women. Their bones shall serve our forces, and their bodies shall serve the men of the Empire.
A classic

>>6259562
>Slaughter the men, capture the women. Their bones shall serve our forces, and their bodies shall serve the men of the Empire.

>>6259562
>Kill them all. There shall be no mercy for those who betray the Empire.

Unless we can personally bestow our profane gift to the captured women, we'd be risking a cognitohazard right into the pits. Plus, we can always make use of more skellies, don't we?

>>6259680
I mean...
>>6258833
>Demonblood - You may grant a willing creature (or one that you have at your mercy) a profane gift by having them imbibe of your blood, your saliva, or other bodily fluids.
We could, but it would be a lot of work. Maybe something like...
>>6259562
>Kill them all. There shall be no mercy for those who betray the Empire
>Unless they're a beautiful woman. They can be spared, but shall receive a Profane Gift as their lady did.

>>6259562
>>Kill them all. There shall be no mercy for those who betray the Empire.

>>6259562
>Slaughter the men, capture the women. Their bones shall serve our forces, and their bodies shall serve the men of the Empire.

Remember the first maxim for mercenaries. Pillage THEN burn.

>>6259562
>Kill them all. There shall be no mercy for those who betray the Empire.
We said there'd be no mercy, and my mama didn't raise no liar.

>>6259810
Killing them would still contribute to our war effort given we'll raise them as skeletons later; taking living slaves, on the other hand, might allow followers of the accused Luminare to ambush us from within the Pleasure Pits unless we can ensure their corruption beforehand.
The rebels have supernatural help, so I'm afraid we'll have to be a bit thorough in our actions.

>Kill them all. There shall be no mercy for those who betray the Empire.
No half measures here, ripe it by the roots

>>6259562
>Kill them all. There shall be no mercy for those who betray the Empire.

Rolled 2, 12, 10, 14, 8, 18, 8, 4 = 76 (8d20)

Winning Vote: Kill them all. There shall be no mercy for those who betray the Empire.

Rolling Charisma Checks (+4) for the outcome of your assault on the village. Your rolls are to command each company of Runecraft Skeletons.

With 4 Skeletal Commanders, you have advantage on all 4 rolls (roll 2x and take the better). Due to your overwhelming advantage in forces, the 4 highest dice out of 8 will be taken (normally it would be best of each pair, in order).

There are no necromancers in the village to contest control of your forces. (No Penalty)

You have captured and corrupted the only cleric in the village with the ability to Turn Undead. (No Penalty)

Their source of Holy Water has been tainted to become Unholy Water. (No Penalty)

Their parley attempt removed two of their commanders, resulting in disorganization among the rebel forces. (DC to avoid losing a commander reduced by 2).

Roll Results
Below 8 - Militia Forces on that front break out and survive to regroup. 10d10 civilians escape imperial retribution. 15% chance to lose a Commander.
DC 8 - Militia Forces on that front are routed, however they buy time for some civilians to escape. 5d10 civilians escape imperial retribution.
DC 15 - Militia Forces on that front are routed. 2d6 civilians escape imperial retribution.
DC 20 - Complete annihilation. All enemy forces routed, total retribution achieved.

Rolled 6, 3, 6, 1 = 16 (4d6)

Northern Front: 16. Militia is routed, 2d6 escapees.
Eastern Front: 14. Militia is routed, 5d10 escapees
Southern Front: 16. Militia is routed, 2d6 escapees.
Western Front: 16. Complete annihilation.
>>6260114
Rolling for the civilian escapees North and South.

Rolled 1, 1, 9, 9, 2 = 22 (5d10)

>>6260116
Derp. Southern should be 18, Western should be 22. Copypaste error.

Rolling for the Eastern Front escapees.

A peasant militia is not a complex foe to route, but the layout of the village makes boxing them in for a charnel slaughter difficult. Truth be told, had they not been so eager to throw their lot in with the Thornlands and waited until their defenses finished construction, it would have saved you a major headache. The curtain wall erected around the Bright Springs stands a mere ten feet tall. More than most villages can boast, but hardly enough to keep your forces from routing a force of disorganized peasants.

The problem comes with the fact that the wall is half finished. The village's east end is as naked as the sows sentenced to work the stables of the Pit for a fortnight, and it presents a target that's nearly as tempting. With four companies of runecarved skeletons, you could amass your forces at the east to give them a right good pounding, shatter their spirits and raze the village to the ground.

Like a sow in the stables, the village would get wrecked.

But also like a sow in the stables, the work would be sloppy.

Realistically you won't be able to kill them all. Even in a proper siege, taking the walls and turning them against the people within the village, some of the people you've been sent to punish would make it out alive. You push in from the east with your full force and they'll slip out of the village on the north and south roads. Sending skeletons to control the roads would still leave the western wall uncontested. Another avenue for the vermin to escape.

After staring down at the battlemap for a little while longer, you nod to yourself and place your pieces on the board, letting your mind's eye envision the proceedings. You will not claim to be a tactical genius, but you know the game well enough to understand how the battle ought to go.

"A company to each side?" Dormandal looks over your battle plan with the purple flames that flicker in his eyes. "Hmmm... and how do you plan to use your forces? Surely you don't intend to try for an encirclement?"

"No," you say with a shake of your head. "The company at the western wall will attack first. I want them spread out, making enough noise to draw as much of the militia as possible... and to have the rest begin the evacuation. I doubt they've drilled it well, but if I were a rebel I'd have more of a plan to flee than scatter and get cut down. They know our camp is to the south, so they'll push the northern road and the openings to the east. The first and second companies will be waiting meet them before they can flee."

You smile to yourself. Not as sloppy a job as the stables, but still as messy as your old mum after she worked a wild party. That's acceptable.

"A company to distract, a company to threaten, and two companies to slaughter them as they retreat," Dormandal nods at your proposal. "Not a bad use of your forces at all. What is your fallback position if they manage to break through on the north and the eastern ends?"

>>6260258
Looking down at the map, you push the pieces representing your estimate of the local militia's strength to a new position. "If that's the case, then they didn't dedicate the forces I'd expect from them to the west and the south. Third Company is on the south road as a threat more than a force. Should the enemy be on the verge of breaking through, they'll move north to take them from behind."

"Good, that's very good..." the old lich nods at your plans laid out on the battle map. His bony fingers drum along the sketched buildings and walls. "Have you considered burning them out? If you set the village aflame, you could easily panic them and shatter their organization. They'd hardly be able to put up an effective defense, wouldn't they?"

You shake your head. "Then they'd scatter like rats. I want them organized in their evacuation of the village, it makes a fatter target for my forces to slaughter."

"But you must admit, it would send a powerful message," Dormandal counters. That's something you considered, razing the village to the ground and reducing it all to ash, but in the end that's not your style. "Survivors fleeing, spreading news of the hellfire that awaits those who betray the Empire. Striking fear into hearts that might rebel against our masters' rule can be quite the preventative measure."

"Which is why I want them to know that death or worse awaits them," you tell him. "Without walls to corral the herd, a sack only kills a fifth of the population at most. I don't want eight rebels running free when I've only killed two. I want one rebel to slip away after I've killed nine of his brothers. I don't want this to be another story of a town burned to the ground, I want whispers of a slaughter so thorough that barely a man is alive to tell the tale."

Cormandal gives a rattling laugh. "Hah, forgive this old man for trying to lighten his workload, with how many corpses I'll need to reanimate. I see you've thought this through, as I expected of you. I do look forward to seeing how effective your plan proves to be."

Before he leaves the tent, he turns his flickering purple flames towards you. "Though, is that truly the only reason you won't burn this place to the ground?"

"A tainted spring, such fertile farmland in the vale..." you drum your fingers on the sketches of houses. "The citizens of our Empire spent blood and treasure building this village and protecting it. The traitors must die, yes. But if they're so eager to throw their provincial lifestyle away, why not give what they had back to the citizens whose coin let them keep it?"

Another rattling laugh comes from Dormandal's bones. "I didn't take you for such a romantic, Lady Clearwater. I would have thought that you would have... oh. Ohoho! I see your game. What a splendid scenario you've set up, I'd expect nothing less of the young woman I chose to raise from the Pits. It will be a challenge, I'm sure, but it's a natural fit, isn't it?"

>>6260260
As Dormandal leaves, you say nothing. But your thoughts run wild thinking of what he meant by that. What's a natural fit?

=================

Your force of one hundred runecarved skeletons achieves victory in the field.

It is not a flawless execution, but your plan went well. They did not dedicate as many forces to responding to your attack on the western wall as you would have liked, but the militia did not succeed in breaking through in either the northern or the eastern fronts. The Third Company did break north to flank the retreating civilians with the First and Second, but few if any civilians broke south to escape in the night.

The Fourth Company performed above and beyond your expectations, thanks in large part to its commander - the skeleton of an old barbarian warlord whose warband the Empire put down a century ago. They did not just make noise and draw fire, no, they used their iron claws to scale the wall and slaughter the defenders down to a man. When they broke east, the morale of the remaining defenders crumpled. The unarmed civilians threw themselves at your skeletal soldier's mercy, and were given the mercy of death.

All in all, four hundred and thirteen corpses pile high in the center of town. Dormandal put the wailing children to sleep in one of the longhouses, weaving a spell of deep slumber that will see them rest without withering until a magistrate arrives to sort them out.

Meanwhile, you've claimed one of the buildings as your own.
>The lord's manor. As the field commander who conquered the village, it's only right you take that building for yourself until your position is relieved.
>A merchant's manor. While not as fortified and lacking a throne and a hall, it has the finest accommodations. If you don't take it, Dormandal has called dibs.
>The apothecary's atelier. A smaller place, but delightfully cozy. It holds many tools in which you have at least a passing interest.
>The blacksmithy. Not only do you get to take the wealthiest tradesman's accommodations, but you get to have an early start on looting the village.
>(Write in)

Once you've taken your rest and broken your fast, what's the first order of business tomorrow?
>Pillaging the village. There are no doubt many shinies here that by right of conquest... belong to the Empire. But, among the Dreadknights, "dibs" is a time honored tradition, as long as you don't go too far.
>Hunting down any stragglers. There may be fools who thought to hide rather than run, so a thorough examination of the village is in order.
>Desecrating the Church. It's a shame she's not a virgin anymore, but the liege lady's connection to the land and its blessing will have to do.
>Fortifying this position. You know not what allies the rebellion had, just that the Marchers of the Thornlands have not crossed the border. Improving the fortifications on the east side of the village will be important.

>>6260262
>The lord's manor. As the field commander who conquered the village, it's only right you take that building for yourself until your position is relieved.
>Hunting down any stragglers. There may be fools who thought to hide rather than run, so a thorough examination of the village is in order.

Runners are fine, but we have enough. Hiders could have insidious intentions and means.

>>6260262
>The lord's manor. As the field commander who conquered the village, it's only right you take that building for yourself until your position is relieved.

>Pillaging the village. There are no doubt many shinies here that by right of conquest... belong to the Empire. But, among the Dreadknights, "dibs" is a time honored tradition, as long as you don't go too far.
I don't think we have to worry about hidders considering how fucked the rebels were.

>>6260262
>The lord's manor. As the field commander who conquered the village, it's only right you take that building for yourself until your position is relieved.
>Hunting down any stragglers. There may be fools who thought to hide rather than run, so a thorough examination of the village is in order.

Quick, clean, efficient, thorough.

>>6260262
>The lord's manor. As the field commander who conquered the village, it's only right you take that building for yourself until your position is relieved.

>Hunting down any stragglers. There may be fools who thought to hide rather than run, so a thorough examination of the village is in order.

Business before pleasure.

>>6260262
>The lord's manor. As the field commander who conquered the village, it's only right you take that building for yourself until your position is relieved.
>Pillaging the village. There are no doubt many shinies here that by right of conquest... belong to the Empire. But, among the Dreadknights, "dibs" is a time honored tradition, as long as you don't go too far.

>>6259562

interesting update QM! as this is a Christian board, I won't be too mad about the fade to black... lovely situation anyway

>you suspect it will only take a week or so for your profane gift to take its toll upon her psyche and bring her around to a better way of thinking.

so it's truly a Defiler!Knight quest, our spunk having corrupting properties... just like in my Birmanese movable drawings. pic related? perhaps.

>>6260114

nice use of AI pics. I'm ambivalent about AIslop but quests and RPG in general is maybe the best place where to use these tools. out of curiosity: have you considered regenerating the image while upscaling it? it usually fixes blurry details and misshapen fingers

>>6260258
nice map

>squints

wait, is that...

>Cormandal gives a rattling laugh. "Hah, forgive this old man for trying to lighten his workload, with how many corpses I'll need to reanimate.

we have the best dad. QM, is there an undead father's day in this world? we better be getting him a nice new pair of dentures or some nice shades, Daddy Deadbones is a bro

>>6260262
I have a great fondness for skeleton soldiers in any sort of media and this pic and the scene warms my old withered heart.

# # # votes # # #

>The apothecary's atelier. A smaller place, but delightfully cozy. It holds many tools in which you have at least a passing interest.

this is /cozyquest/ now.
also our girl might be interested in potions and alchemical trinkets, perhaps to power up her own skillset... or other kinds of potency

I'd add: leaving the merchant's abode to Daddy Deadbones is just good manners... and merchants are the scum of the earth anyway

t. merchant

>>Pillaging the village. There are no doubt many shinies here that by right of conquest... belong to the Empire. But, among the Dreadknights, "dibs" is a time honored tradition, as long as you don't go too far.

VAE VICTIS!

also, stragglers will speak of our mighty deeds and increase our reputation, we can desecrate the church later.

>fortifying the east side of the village

I'd focus on this right after, if there's still time. Perhaps something like ditches, fire pits, pointed stakes? there's lots of wood around and our skelebros might be vulnerable to cavalry charges or archers. digging in solves both problems, and skeletons don't suffer from trench foot


>What a splendid scenario you've set up, I'd expect nothing less of the young woman I chose to raise from the Pits. It will be a challenge, I'm sure, but it's a natural fit, isn't it?"

we should also focus a bit on that as players. what is /ourgirl/'s goal? just adding medals to our overabundant chest? we should focus a bit on character building after this scene, if there's some time.

thanks for the update QM, great effort all around

>>6260262
>A merchant's manor. While not as fortified and lacking a throne and a hall, it has the finest accommodations. If you don't take it, Dormandal has called dibs.

>Pillaging the village. There are no doubt many shinies here that by right of conquest... belong to the Empire. But, among the Dreadknights, "dibs" is a time honored tradition, as long as you don't go too far.

>>6260262
>The lord's manor. As the field commander who conquered the village, it's only right you take that building for yourself until your position is relieved.
>Pillaging the village. There are no doubt many shinies here that by right of conquest... belong to the Empire. But, among the Dreadknights, "dibs" is a time honored tradition, as long as you don't go too far.

Pillage first, then burn.

>>6260262
>The apothecary's atelier. A smaller place, but delightfully cozy. It holds many tools in which you have at least a passing interest.
Maybe if we find anything interesting we can ask papa bones later for tips on potion making, he being a sorcerer lich and all.

>Pillaging the village. There are no doubt many shinies here that by right of conquest... belong to the Empire. But, among the Dreadknights, "dibs" is a time honored tradition, as long as you don't go too far.
Who are we to ignore such a honorable and time old tradition?
>>6260510
>we should also focus a bit on that as players. what is /ourgirl/'s goal? just adding medals to our overabundant chest? we should focus a bit on character building after this scene, if there's some time.
Agreed with anon, pillaging and corrupting our way for the glory of the empire is fun, but planning a long term goal for ourgirl should be among our priorities

>>6260510
>pic rel
QM is into petrification ? zam

>nice map
>squints
>wait, is that...
I didn't notice it at first. Your Ayatollah posting make it all the more fun.

>I'd add: leaving the merchant's abode to Daddy Deadbones is just good manners... and merchants are the scum of the earth anyway
did a certain silver-haired knight hijack your keyboard ?

>>6260649

>into petrification

nah, but I like Ibenz's stuff

>hijack your keyboard ?

on the other channel my lawyer is telling me I shouldn't answer

>>6260510
>>6260625
What sort of career paths are available to a Dreadknight? We coudk ascend the military hierarchy, or maybe seek to govern this region on behalf of the Empire?

>>6260682
A life as a frontiersman defending against and leading cross border raids into the lands of the Empire's enemies would be kino. Bonus if we get to construct our own Fortress from where we operate from.

>>6260682
>>6260687

I trust QM has plans and we won't end up as a salarywoman in a nice suit

>>6260649
>>6260510
For those of us who are out of the loop... beg pardon? What are you seeing on the map?

Rolled 4, 3 = 7 (2d4)

>>6260510
>so it's truly...
Yes, that is one of the ways you can grant a profane gift. Anyone whom engages with you in "this and that" is a valid recipient, though you can choose to give or not give.

Also blood and saliva works as a catalyst, though blood or the other stuff is more common for willing recipients. Blood is generally the accepted medium for granting those gifts between peers and subordinates with no interest in demonstrating that level of "submission" towards you.
>nice use of AI pics.
Thanks, I get the ambivalence. I aspire to drawing things myself, but it rarely ends well. These are upscaled; I do a low res gen to search for a good layout, and then higher rez for more detail.
>wait, is that...
Not intentionally. Blame the guy who made the village generation software I used. In fact, here's a more lore accurate map, with the church having the PROPER number of points for the Seven Archangels who stand against Hell. Also the manor is there (it has a tower!).
>QM, is there an undead father's day in this world?
You have never celebrated father's day because your sperm donor is perfectly happy with having no relationship with you. He knows you're his, and he always paid your mother extra to help with expenses. He's a decently high ranking guard for the Pit you grew up in. Actual spoiler: He also killed a few people to protect you and your mom, but what they had planned was illegal and he they were trying shit on his patrol route. Those gangs got the message that you and her were off limits.
>skeleton soldiers
Yes, the bone boys deserve respect.
>What is /ourgirl/'s goal?
Glory, honor, fame, and bitches. Not necessarily in that order, but necessarily in large quantities. Maybe making more opportunities for the Pit born like her along the way. Her Bone Daddy thinks she's more focused in her ambitions than she really is, and currently is assuming she wants this village for her demense, which she won't say no to when it comes up, and probably will pretend that was her plan all along.
>>6260649
>QM is into petrification ? zam
No I just like boobs and corruption.
>I didn't notice it at first. Your Ayatollah posting make it all the more fun.
Yeah I only noticed it when it got pointed out. Not intentionally, the building now has SEVEN points. We're Game of Thrones up in here, a proper Sept.
>>6260682
Governor is one, though it would definitely be more "Military Governor" than a political position. Military Command is another. You've got both the Charisma for command and the Physical stats for fighting, so most would think you would be wasted as part of a Special Task Force (read: adventuring party). That said, special operations or becoming a sworn sword are not out of the question if that's what you want to pursue.
>>6260689
This is also an acceptable idea.

Anyways, the manor and pillaging win the vote! Rolling for how many fun things you find:

Rolled 23, 50, 53, 63, 53, 10, 75 = 327 (7d100)

>>6260836
Near max, nice. Now rolling for how good those things are. None of these are gonna be "super OP artifact that has an I win button" even on a 100 or 69 (otherwise, why didn't they use them during the raid?), but the have the potential to be pretty decent utility.

>>6260510
I want to corrupt an angel.

>>6260836
Out of curiosity qm, where are the images from? Because of the minor discrepancies in details I assumed they were AI generated, but the style and quality of the images are both pretty solid. Do you have money to shell out for comms or are the programs just getting better?

>>6260836
>QM is into petrification ? zam
>No I just like boobs and corruption.
meant the other guy, since he posted the pic and said somethings, kek.

>>6260872
see >>6260836
>>nice use of AI pics.
>Thanks, I get the ambivalence. I aspire to drawing things myself, but it rarely ends well. These are upscaled; I do a low res gen to search for a good layout, and then higher rez for more detail.

>>6260863
basedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbased
basedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbasedbased

I fucking LOVE that scenario.
>>6260872
They're all AI generated, my own prompts. Prompting isn't an art, but there's definitely a technique to it, you want to structure it right. Generally mine go:

Line 1: Style, Structure, High Level Composition (full body vs. close up), Camera Angel, etc.
Line 2: Eye tags. Color, level of detail, special pupils, etc.
Line 3: Hair tags. Color, length, hairstyle, decorations, etc.
Line 4: Body shape. Height, Boba size, are they Swole or Chubby, do they have wings, etc.
Line 5+: Outfit. I separate details for more complex outfits into more lines, it really depends on the gen.
Last Line: Background details (consider the Skeleton Army)

Most models these days don't need negatives to get good results. Use a booru for tags.
>>6260888
Ah, fair.

Anyways I should probably get to writing shouldn't I?

With the battle won, you move your camp into the liege lord's manor.

It sits just off the center of the village, atop a hill that gives it a commanding view of the river and the road that cuts through the village going north. You cannot quite call it a proper keep as the tower rising from its northwest corner lacks the fortifications you would expect. Nor can you call it a simple manse, for the walls are thick and sturdy enough for a siege. No windows sit on its lowest floor, and its second floor has only slats for shooting arrows sealed with easily removed panes of glass, yet the third floor and the highest room of the tower have grand glass windows for each room.

Double paned, even. The Brightspring family spared no expense to outfit their home, and yet their taxes to the Empire fell off right around the time their patriarch perished this past winter. At least, that's what all the documents say. Poor revenues reported... when they had a blessed spring nourishing the land and the rejuvenating bodies of their people.

"Treason and tax fraud," you drawl. Yanking on her shackles, you pull the Lady Brightspring close enough for her to squirm at your attentions, especially when your hand finds some place soft and delicate and gives it a squeeze. "The list of crimes you've committed keeps piling up, my lady. Tell me, were you hoping to be punished? Because someone's been a very naughty girl~"

Try as she might to squirm free of your iron grasp, the Lady Brightspring cannot escape. After a moment, she realizes the futility of her struggles and goes limp, staring up at the moon and stars. "It was Brother Anthony's idea. Cut our payments to the Empire and they-"

"Will slaughter your men, rape your women, and brainwash your children into serving their dark masters, yes," you finish the sentence for her. Grabbing her by the hair, you pull her towards another window, this one looking over the village square. Your skeletons are hard at work, stripping the flesh from the bodies of militiamen and civilians alike. "Well, as a woman myself, I decided to spare them the indignity. Their bodies will serve the Empire all the same, once their bones have been dipped in iron and carved with the right runes."

"You didn't spare me that indignity," she spits.

"No I didn't," you tell her. Honestly, the solidarity you claimed was absolutely false. A part of you sorely wanted to claim every virgin woman in the town as your plaything - at least until your bored of them - but that would have distracted your forces from the slaughter. Needs must, and so all those ladies got to die virgins instead of learning the carnal pleasures of the flesh. "But isn't it fair that the person responsible for this slaughter suffers the greatest for it?"

"Hah!" a bitter laugh escapes her throat. "If that's the case, then you will burn when Luminaire is reborn to judge the sinners. In the deepest, most fiery pit of hell, a bleak and unending Tartarus..."

>>6261028
You answer her curse with a smile. "Tartarus is my hometown, born and raised. Luminaire is a stinking corpse, rotting in Hades' bog with all the other pretenders to the Throne of G-d. And you just lost your bedroom privileges. I was going to let you sleep with me tonight and enjoy the comfort of a nice, cozy bed after we went for a few rounds. But now I think you'll be staying in the dungeon, shackled and naked with the doors wide open for my new recruits to do whatever they want with you."

Lady Brightspring glares up at you with gritted teeth, but doesn't say a word. She knows that you can make it worse on her if you want to.

You stare into her blue eyes, your smile becoming wide and cruel. "Of course, they already know what you're good for, don't they?"

=================

As tempting as it was to have your way with her in the dungeons before letting your recruits loose on her, you manage to restrain yourself and keep your lance within its sheathe. They way she glared at you just there, where was that fight in her when you took her virginity? The shock must have worn off. Her treatment at the hands of her former comrades may have broken her so hard that they fixed her, to a degree. Whatever the case, it made her all the more delicious. Your desire to see her spirit finally buckle under the pressure of her circumstances and the corrosion from your profane gift swells, but you ultimately decide to leave it to your subordinates.

After all, you know better than to take their sloppy seconds. Who knows where they've been?

Claiming the largest room with the biggest and coziest bed in all the manse for yourself, you get a restful night's sleep. With the dawn, one of Dormandal's skeletal maids wakes you with a delightful breakfast of eggs, beans, bacon, toast, and tomatoes. The tomatoes are especially important - being the undisputed king of vegetables - and you are quite glad that some were found among the food stores of the manse. While your army might not march on its stomach, its commander does, and having troops that don't need to eat means that better care can be put into what rations are made.

Once you are fed, washed, and fully harnessed, you proceed outside rested and ready for the most important part of any sacking of a village: the pillaging. Marching to the town square, where the corpse pile has shrunk and the bleached bone pile has substantially grown, you begin to bark out orders. "Fourth Company with me! We've an inventory to take of the village goods. First through Third, continue stripping these bones for Lord Dormandal. Your brothers-in-arms will not animate themselves!"

The skeletal commanders of the First through Third Companies give a rattle of laughter, joined by the more clever troops under their command; skeletons old and storied enough to begin developing personalities.

>>6261031
The fourth company gives a shriek of obedience, rattling on over to your side, where you've set out a map of the village.

Taking inventory is not dangerous work now that the sack is complete and the villagers have been slaughtered, but you refuse to break from procedure for the sake of getting things done a touch more expediently. Lines of string have divided the village into six sectors. "Squads of four everyone, and the commander and I will move as a pair. I want to take inventory of everything that hasn't been nailed down. The commander and I will set up the main hall to sort trade goods, textiles, coinage, and the like. Foodstuffs to the larder. Meats to the freeze room, perishables to the cold room, and nonperishables to the pantry."

"And what if there are any survivors?" Dormandal drifts over to you, another question in his bones. He wears something lighter today than yesterday, airy pants and actual boots meant for walking, with a shorter hooded robe left open to reveal his ribcage. His sleeves are long and billowing, and the whole ensemble glitters with starlight. Lady Liches must love him, for he is flaunting his exquisite bone structure. "How shall your forces deal with them?"

"Survivors hiding out are why we do a five point room scan," you say, more to the skeletons than Dormandal. The commander nods, and the bone boys all rattle obediently. "No breaking of procedure. If you don't do a five point room scan, and some brave fool charges out from the closet and cracks open a skull, that's on you, gentlebones. That said, I suppose if they prostrate themselves and beg for mercy, we can afford to show some."

"Why not slaughter them like before?" Dormandal prods at your decision. Wisely, for you shouldn't do things on a whim without thinking about it.

"They neither fought back, nor tried to flee their punishment," you say after a moment of thought. Sure, it's rationalizing the whim - not ideal - but talking through it creates a foundation for your actions and establishes precedent for the next sacking. "That is behavior that we should reward. Demonstrate sincere submission and earn forgiveness. The mark in the ledger shall remain, but clemency shall be granted."

"I see," Dormandal nods after a moment. "There is no sheep's blood upon the doors, but if the spectre of death has already passed..."

"Of course an exception would be made if the mastermind hid themselves away," you tell him. "Conspirators who raise gather banners against the Empire shall know no mercy from our blades!"

>>6261033
As Dormandal nods, the skeletons of the Fourth Company shriek in agreement. Shortly thereafter, they break apart for the day's work. They kick open doors, they break open cache's hidden beneath floors, and they bring everything that hasn't been nailed down to be sorted in the manse. Dormandal lends some of his skeletal maids to assist with the work of sorting and counting out the goods. Marginally more intelligent than the soldiers, though not quite as clever as the commanders, they do a splendid job and soon enough you have a ledger.

"Three thousand pounds of potted meat, a whole three silos of wheat and barley..." You read off some of the line items. "I suppose the harvest was rather recent, so that makes sense enough. Next, we... oh, these look interesting!"

There are seven items of interest that your skeletons found as they scoured the village. Going by Dreadknight tradition, it would be acceptable for you to call [dibs] on two of them and no one would question it. (Vote for as many as you'd like, top two win)
>A coin that will unerringly answer a single yes or no question once per day. Heads means yes, tails means no, and if it lands upon its side the answer is hidden or unknowable.
>A flask of cheap whiskey that never runs out.
>A decanter that removes all poisons from any liquid poured within it. If it cannot remove the poison, it will turn the liquid black.
>A ring that keeps the wearer cool in the summer and warm in the winter, though it cannot protect from great extremes.
>A monocle that allows the wearer to see magical auras and explains their basic nature in plain language.
>A belt with five small pouches that can each hold a cubic meter of material.
>A pair of safety boots that lets you ignore slippery surfaces.

What sector do you and the Skeletal Commander examine personally, once the collection area is set up?
>The northwest quarter, with the temple
>The northeast quarter, with the manse
>The southeast quarter, by the river
>The southwest quarter, by the wall
>The western wall and its guardstations
>The watchtowers at the foundations of the eastern wall

>>6261036
>A monocle that allows the wearer to see magical auras and explains their basic nature in plain language.
>A coin that will unerringly answer a single yes or no question once per day. Heads means yes, tails means no, and if it lands upon its side the answer is hidden or unknowable.
>A decanter that removes all poisons from any liquid poured within it. If it cannot remove the poison, it will turn the liquid black.

>The northwest quarter, with the temple
Personally.
>The northeast quarter, with the manse
Skellie Commander

Gotta attend to business with the temple. Can't trust them glowies. Plus north and east are the sections we did the worst on. There could be stragglers hiding in basements in the north, close to escape. Or runners that made it to the fields, but limped back to scavenge for containers and packs to load produce into once they realised they couldn't get anywhere without starving to death. Maybe even some delusional zealot with a vengeful streak, hoping to infiltrate the manse and poison our food or strike at us while we sleep.

>>6261057
IIRC it's choosing two objects and one sector?

>>6261036
>A coin that will unerringly answer a single yes or no question once per day. Heads means yes, tails means no, and if it lands upon its side the answer is hidden or unknowable.
>A decanter that removes all poisons from any liquid poured within it. If it cannot remove the poison, it will turn the liquid black.

>The northwest quarter, with the temple

>>6261065
>>6261036 says "(Vote for as many as you'd like, top two win)", in bolded letters too.

Only two can win, but I can still vote for all the one's I want to win to the exclusion of others.

As for the other thing, I assumed we could delegate. He may not have INT saves, but he still has a score, and apparently WIS too, so he can spot stuff. Presumably if we give him instructions on what to do 'independently', he'll do them to the best of his ability.

>>6261057
>>6261069
You'd be breaking procedure if you separate from the commander. Buddy system is in play at the minimum, along with the five point room scan.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ZHRZe9K3Vc

Just because you're chaotic evil doesn't mean you get to skip the process.

>>6261036
>A coin that will unerringly answer a single yes or no question once per day. Heads means yes, tails means no, and if it lands upon its side the answer is hidden or unknowable.
>A monocle that allows the wearer to see magical auras and explains their basic nature in plain language.
>A flask of cheap whiskey that never runs out.

>The northwest quarter, with the temple
Defilin' time.

We can use the Flask of infinite Whiskey to infinitely waterboard people. Just a thought.

>>6261076
Okay, I'm fine with just checking out the temple.

>>6261036
>A coin that will unerringly answer a single yes or no question once per day. Heads means yes, tails means no, and if it lands upon its side the answer is hidden or unknowable.
>A flask of cheap whiskey that never runs out.

>The northwest quarter, with the temple

>>6261081
>We can use the Flask of infinite Whiskey to infinitely waterboard people. Just a thought.
I just wanted cheap alcohol, but that's neat as well

>>6261036
>>A coin that will unerringly answer a single yes or no question once per day. Heads means yes, tails means no, and if it lands upon its side the answer is hidden or unknowable.
>A pair of safety boots that lets you ignore slippery surfaces.
>The northwest quarter, with the temple

>>6261036
Daddy got DRIP

>>6261036

>A coin that will unerringly answer a single yes or no question once per day. Heads means yes, tails means no, and if it lands upon its side the answer is hidden or unknowable.

this is stupidly useful. are you sure, QM?

>A flask of cheap whiskey that never runs out.

for those times we don't feel like going at the pub

>A monocle that allows the wearer to see magical auras and explains their basic nature in plain language.

makes us look snazzy and it's useful

>>6260863
great idea!

though I wonder if an angel would be a bit too much for us, at least right now.

QM, what are the chances we might stumble into a pesky paladin in the future? Maybe befriend her, play our cards right, pretend like we are turning on a new leaf, and sharing the poor girl's burden by giving her a little boost?

Just a few drops of blood, nothing much. That ability enhancement looks mighty useful... and it's just a DC 16 per day, practically a given, will be so easy for her save for that 5% chance of failure on a d20, let us not worry about it...

And then who knows, after she starts enjoying her newfound hm, strength and energy, she may come to appreciate our help, crave it, need it.
When you need something, it rapidly becomes something you'd shed all sort of things for: your morals, your clothes, your companions, your faith... but that HIT, ah... right down your throat, it fixes everything, even the things you have lost along the way.

Paladins make for the prettiest pets.

And it would be fun to have our own personal blackguard addicted to our ahem gift.
pic related? perhaps

>>6261076
she looks so happy in this, I bet she was top of her class (and often on top of her classmates)

thanks for the update

>A coin that will unerringly answer a single yes or no question once per day. Heads means yes, tails means no, and if it lands upon its side the answer is hidden or unknowable.
This seems like something that sounds more useful than it is. Bet that we'll end up using it on inane questions or for funsies, with the stuff that truly matters being hidden or unknowable.
>A flask of cheap whiskey that never runs out.
Meh.
>A decanter that removes all poisons from any liquid poured within it. If it cannot remove the poison, it will turn the liquid black.
This is really nice for safety. Keeps our own drinks from being poisoned for good, unless someone breaks it. Warns us if it can't remove it too.
>A ring that keeps the wearer cool in the summer and warm in the winter, though it cannot protect from great extremes.
Nice quality of life item.
>A monocle that allows the wearer to see magical auras and explains their basic nature in plain language.
Extraordinarily useful in theory. In practice though, it seems like things are easily identified?
>A belt with five small pouches that can each hold a cubic meter of material.
Dimensional storage is ALWAYS a boon. ALWAYS.
>A pair of safety boots that lets you ignore slippery surfaces.
More useful to laborers than to us, I think.

Actual vote:
>Decanter
>Belt
>Coin

>Temple district
And let's specifically desecrate it while we're there. Though maybe wash Lady Brightsprings before we do it, she's probably had a rough night.

>>6261036
>A flask of cheap whiskey that never runs out.
>A decanter that removes all poisons from any liquid poured within it. If it cannot remove the poison, it will turn the liquid black.

>The northwest quarter, with the temple

>>6261036
>A coin that will unerringly answer a single yes or no question once per day. Heads means yes, tails means no, and if it lands upon its side the answer is hidden or unknowable.
This is so stupid useful that is a must have for me, I can already imagine the hilarious scenarios /ourgirl/ will use for it
>A flask of cheap whiskey that never runs out.
I wasn't going to vote for it but anon here >>6261081 convinced me, waterboarding with cheap whiskey is a fun idea (especially because I dislike it, nothing beats vodka and gin)
>A decanter that removes all poisons from any liquid poured within it. If it cannot remove the poison, it will turn the liquid black.
Highly useful against dastardly sycophants who plan to betray us, inevitably we will have some in the future as our victories pile up.
>A monocle that allows the wearer to see magical auras and explains their basic nature in plain language.
Useful drip, we shall not let father bones out drip our girl.
>A pair of safety boots that lets you ignore slippery surfaces.
What can I say? I am boring and practical sometimes, also I once slipped off the floor so many times and cracked my head that safety seems important, especially since she will get in some chaotic battles.
>The northwest quarter, with the temple
I don't trust holy temples, we should check it out.

>And you just lost your bedroom privileges. I was going to let you sleep with me tonight and enjoy the comfort of a nice, cozy bed after we went for a few rounds
This is like a old married couple (married pet?), if she ends up not breaking within the next month she might make a nice bed warmer/long living pet, I see potential.

>>6261243
Anon I..I think your intrusive thoughts won
......
......
Now I am really hoping we can find a hidden paladin in the temple, or an angel, an oversized celestial bird is easy pickings. 1% chance of victory is still a chance!

>>6261243

also, sorry QM forgot to vote for the location:

>The northwest quarter, with the temple

in going with my previous suggestion

Unfortunately, no update tonight.
Thursdays (and Fridays) are generally a bad day for me, so my posts on those days will be unreliable.
>>6261243
>this is stupidly useful. are you sure, QM?
Yes. It's too useful yet also too limited, you see. Like a potion or a phoenix down, I expect that the players will never actually make use of it without prompting. Because what if there's a more important question to answer?
>pic related? perhaps
So I saw this earlier in the day, didn't realize what that glass was filled with, lmao. Anon is thirsty I see.
Is that a gen? Details make me think so.
>she looks so happy in this, I bet she was top of her class (and often on top of her classmates)
She did not receive her lance until she graduated, for better or worse.
>>6261277
>And let's specifically desecrate it while we're there.
This is an option, yes.
>>6261305
>Now I am really hoping we can find a hidden paladin in the temple, or an angel, an oversized celestial bird is easy pickings. 1% chance of victory is still a chance!
They had no one nearly that powerful in the village, otherwise it wouldn't have fallen to a mere 100 bone boys. Sure, they're better than normal skellymen, but they're still a mostly ordinary force.

>>6261036
>>A flask of cheap whiskey that never runs out.
>>A decanter that removes all poisons from any liquid poured within it. If it cannot remove the poison, it will turn the liquid black.
>>A monocle that allows the wearer to see magical auras and explains their basic nature in plain language.
>>A belt with five small pouches that can each hold a cubic meter of material.

>>The northwest quarter, with the temple
Have one of the bone maids give our pet a thorough cleaning and meet us at the temple at dusk for desecration time.

>>6261711
No worries QM; more time for voting

Rolled 1 (1d2)

The Decanter and Whiskey are tied for second place, so this coinflip will decide.

1 - Decanter
2 - Whiskey

The six squads of skeletons begin their pillaging of the village at your order. While your runecarved skeletons lack a fully formed mind as undead no more than a handful of decades old, clear orders and procedures mean that you can rely on them to get the job done for most of the village. They know where to bring any goods they find, they know where to bring any captives they find, and they know how to do a five point room scan and slaughter anyone foolish enough to try waiting in ambush for them.

The one place you don't trust them with is the temple.

Not yet, at any rate.

The seven pointed cathedral that looms over the northwest quarter of the village needs your personal attention, and so you've dragged the commander of the Fourth Company with you. He has a greater presence of mind than his subordinates, not quite breaking past the mindless nature of the ordinary skeleton, but approaching the threshold of becoming a skeletal champion. Though he may well be a one hundred year old weapon of war, you would say that he's certainly the most reliable of your skeletal commanders.

Which is why you feel comfortable bringing him into a nexus of divine energy. The temple is an old and storied place, for the material plane. Civilizations passed it between them, renovations changing the meaning of its seven points and the figures in its stained-glass windows, but the stone of its foundation is older than most of the faiths it played host to.

Seven great kings of man became seven earthly spirits. Seven earthly spirits became seven stars of heaven. Seven stars of heaven became seven faces of a pretender to the Throne of G-d. That pretender's seven faces became seven pretenders themselves, and when came the Dies Irae upon which the Dividers poured into the world and butchered the false gods, those pretenders became seven of the six hundred and sixty six Divider Lords. When the village raised banner of the Seven Archangels in rebellion against the Empire, the statues of those Divider Lords were torn down and broken into a thousand pieces.

Or at least that's what Dormandal told you, when you asked him about the village two nights back. He tends to know these things.

You fingers brush along the baptismal font at the heart of the building, where water drawn from the mountain hotsprings bubbles up. Still warm to the touch despite the distance from the fires at the heart of the mountain, still tainted by your impromptu ritual to desecrate the blessings laid upon the water by the "angels". Angels using that priest Lady Brightspring mentioned, that Brother Anthony who pushed the village into rebellion.

Thoughts cross your mind as you contemplate the unholy water and the way it has stained the fountain's white marble a delightful black. None of the corpses placed upon the pile for processing wore the cassock of a priest or brother. You made the village's liege a toy for the pits, but if she was already a puppet of someone else...

>>6262164
You wanted to break the mastermind, not smash up someone else's toy. At least you got to claim that useless bint's virginity... not that a limp dicked priest with a vow of chastity has the balls to even get it up.

"Alright, here's what we're doing," you tell your partner in pillaging. The skeletal commander rattles forward, the red flames in its eyes eager to receive your orders. "We go around each wing and pick it apart piece by piece. Anything that looks like a sacred relic of that stinking corpse - if you even catch the tiniest whiff of divinity on it - we dump it in the font of unholy water here for desecration. If we find holy books in the pews, we pile them up outside for burning later. Everything else gets brought back to the manor to get sorted out with the rest of the treasure."

The skeletal command shrieks out a confirmation of your orders, and the two of you get to work.

Scouring the seven naves of the temple only reveals a handful of sacred relics, and a small pile of holy books set out in the courtyard to be burnt later in the day. They had not replaced the stained glass in the windows just yet, though you do find a collection of empty iron frames set to be filled with patterns to revere the renegade archangels. A few windows - likely the ones that once held the image of the Divider Lords - are broken and shuttered, but they can be replaced with time.

The traitorous worms at least had the common decency to leave the floor polished and untouched. The tile patterns you walk upon are not simply patterns memorializing the many priests that once congregated their flocks in this place, no. You tread upon the caskets of revered fathers and brothers, men of holy and unholy persuasions alike having been laid to rest in the floor of this storied building. Dormandal boasted about its historical significance on the journey over of how you would walk upon tombs of three hundred generations of spiritual shepherds.

A hundred generations of whom revered no false gods, and instead honored the Divider Lords, the demonic masters of the Empire. To see it turned into a wretched hive of rebellion against the ones who tore down the false heaven and slew the pretender gods fills you with a burning desire to desecrate every book and symbol of their ever-so-holy corpse personally. And with great vigor.

An urge you bite back. You cannot skip the process, you must be methodical in eradicating every trace of their heresy.

Then, once you have scrubbed away all evidence of Luminaire's influence, you can drag the Lady Brightspring onto the consecrated altar and desecrate all night long with her violation.

>>6262167
Once you finish with the naves, the choir, and the main body of the temple, you move down into the undercroft. Among the honored servants laid to rest here, you find that the rebels squirreled away weapons. Weapons that bear the makers mark of the Edelweiss Forgeworks, a crafthall sworn to the service of the Marquis Bernadotte von Edelweiss of the Thornlands. Corpse worshipper that he may be, this isn't solid evidence that he backed the rebel scum, just a very strong hint.

For better or worse, the Edelweiss Forgeworks are second only to the Pit Forges of the Industrialist in terms of output and quality. A distant second, for Imperial Steel is far and away the finest quality in all the world, but they do have customers among all their neighbors - even Imperials living on this plane who are looking to buy things cheap might buy from them.

There are cheaper on other planes, of course, but the point stands. You can't rush into declaring him their backer with this evidence alone, however.

Besides, more concerning than the steel in the undercroft is all the barrels of gunpowder. Firearms are nearly exclusive to the Empire and its allies on this plane, and the windbüchse is the standard for a number of reasons. The least of which is that the vessels for containing air pressure and the means to pressurize them are far more difficult to reproduce than gunpowder. A dozen barrels of not just black powder, but corned gunpowder, is not a lot of it, all things considered, but it would be more than enough to blow the roof off of this cathedral.

After calling over some of the bone boys to take it out of the temple and place it somewhere more disposable, the last part of the temple grounds that you check over is the stables. You expect to find a number of things there: livestock, animal feed, maybe a station to help fix up a horse's broke or infected hooves.

You did not expect to find a young woman sprawled out over a pile of hay in the loft. With a head of messy blonde hair burnt red at the tips, she wears a tartan shirt, a pair of craftsman's coveralls, and a set of gloves and boots. Despite how much noise you make, she remains asleep... no, there's no way. Could she have slept through the entire battle?
>Wake her up and demand to know who she is.
>Wake her up and gleefully inform her that she's going to help you desecrate the temple.
>Pinch your nose and have your skeletons carry her off to the dungeons. Make sure she has a good view of Lady Brightspring.
>She looks so deliciously vulnerable that it makes your lance stir with hunger. Maybe just a taste...
>No mercy means no mercy. But maybe she'd make a nice corrupted revenant, if you kill her yourself.
>(Write In)

>>6262171
>Wake her up and gleefully inform her that she's going to help you desecrate the temple.

>>6262047
Eh, good enough.

>>6262171
>Wake her up and demand to know who she is.
wakie wakie, sleepyhead

>>6262171
>Wake her up and gleefully inform her that she's going to help you desecrate the temple.

If she agrees, corrupt her; if she doesn't, let's see if she's worthy of being a corrupted revenant.

>>6262171
>Wake her up and gleefully inform her that she's going to help you desecrate the temple.

Oh boy, we better get to checking every cellar there is for hidden stocks of gunpowder. It would only take a single living saboteur in the know to cause some major headaches for us, if there are more caches of gunpowder lying about. But first, business and pleasure.

>>6262171
>>Wake her up and demand to know who she is.

>>6262171
>Wake her up and demand to know who she is.
Let's take things slow. We can step on her later if she's obstinate.
>>6262384
Hopefully the other skellies were thorough...

>>6262171
>>No mercy means no mercy. But maybe she'd make a nice corrupted revenant, if you kill her yourself.

>>6262171
>No mercy means no mercy. But maybe she'd make a nice corrupted revenant, if you kill her yourself.

>>6262171
>Wake her up and demand to know who she is.
She has protagonist energy witn that hair, so best to learn what her deal is before we do any desecration. Call it an omen.

>>6262171
>Wake her up and demand to know who she is.
She literally slept through an entire fight like the anon above me said, we are not messing with that until we get a very detailed report on her background

>>6262171
>She looks so deliciously vulnerable that it makes your lance stir with hunger. Maybe just a taste

>>6262756
To be fair, that could just mean that she's a dumbass, rather than a powerhouse.

No small part of you wants to drive a sword through her throat as you did with your new recruits. To watch the light fade from her eyes as her sclera melt into a midnight black, to see the corruption that swells within your blade seep into her veins, to render her existence into a tarnished half-life of mindless servitude to your every want and whim. She lays there upon the hay sprawled out, vulnerable, and defenseless as your heart pounds in your ears with the desire to defile her. It would be so easy, so simple, so delightful to ram your blade straight through her and take from her all the things that she was and will be.

Your chest heaves, your breath becomes hot and heavy, your murderous and carnal impulses blend together until they become indistinguishable from one another. The woman lying among the hay is no great beauty, her features plain and cute at best. Yet her raw unguarded vulnerability drives you to an insatiable hunger that sets your eyes to devour her sleeping body. Past the dopey smile upon her drooling lips, beyond the pillow-soft valley that lay betwixt her freckled mountains, they find even more tempting targets that set your bloodlust aflame.

Her precious carotid is right there in the open, all but enticing you to give it a squeeze.

She best not think you can't see what's hidden beneath the grease-stained overalls that conceal her bosom, no. Her aorta and inferior vena cava are just hanging out there, without a single plate of armor to protect them, begging for you to drive your blade in straight to the hilt.

And with one of her arms flopping lackadaisically high above her head, she can't have done this accidentally. The way she shows off her armpit - and more importantly, the axillary vein beneath it - is far too lewd. Those are the things that dreams are made of, dreams of crawling through the mud of a rain soaked battlefield and climbing atop the broken body of a heavily armored foe who has fallen and cannot get up. The weary acceptance of their fate, the intimacy as you stare lovingly into their eyes as your blade slowly slides through the gaps in their defenses left by the joints in their harness.

The gasp of their final breath.

The embrace of the little death.

It takes every ounce of your discipline to hold yourself back. If you were the sort of woman who gave into her impulses, you would have already had this deliciously vulnerable woman pinned beneath your arms and begun stabbing her. With your blade or with your lance, it doesn't matter. Both are raring and ready to go, one rippling into your hands as the other stirs within your codpiece. When you see such delectable vulnerability, your heart's first desire is to destroy it.

But you hold yourself back.

>>6263135
For a number of reasons, the least of which being that if you had your fill of fun with her and it turned out that she was - in fact - a loyal citizen of the Empire who just happened to be passing through the town at the time of the sack, you'd get chewed out. Not the fun sort of chewing out that you and your pillow friend back in the squire corps female barracks, either. No, it would be the uncomfortable sort of chewing out where a they'd have a panel of stuffy parsons make you explain yourself, and then tell you that what you did harmed the Empire and that you should contemplate your actions.

Oh, and you'd probably get reassigned someplace boring, probably guarding some peaceful world in the material ruled by the Industrialist and his corporate worker bees, where the most excitement you'd run into is someone's dog getting into the alchemical waste process and turning into a ravenous were beast.

There's also the fact that, upon closer inspection, her choker and her overalls reek of magic. Not acrid stench of divinity you caught from the relics left bathing in unholy water earlier, nor the cinnamon sweet scent of the demonic power that courses through your veins and your equipment. Her equipment - and to a lesser extent, the woman herself - smells faintly of lilacs and thunderstorms, a hallmark of the arcane. Hardly an unpleasant odor, not like a stinking paladin, and certainly not as overpowering as Dormandal's own... but the airs of the sorceress and the artificer are ones that you've learned to respectful of.

So you give her a very gentle kick with your sabatons, more of push really, and shout, "Oi, lady, wake the fuck up! It's past noon. Get your shit together and tell me who you are, lest you and your shit want to get got and thrown into the dungeons!"

"Mwah, bud I dun wanna, mum..." the young woman rolls with your shove, eating a face full of hay without opening her eyes. Honestly it's almost impressive that she's still sleeping, with such a wide smile on her face the whole time, despite how loud you're shouting. "S'my berfday, ya know? An' the berfday girl get's ta sleep in as loooooooooong as she wants. I'm gonna sleep and dream the whole day away~"

"No, you are not," you inform her. Maybe if you push on her face with your boot, she'll wake up and answer you're questions. "You are going to wake up on the count of three, or I swear to the Ravager I will drive my blade so deep inside you that your ancestors will feel it."

You don't really mean it, that's just the sort of thing the knight you served under would say when you overslept.

>>6263138
"Munya~" A noise escapes her mouth as your foot squished her cheek that causes your heart to skip a beat. Where the hell did she get off make such an adorable sound, huh? "No professor, I was payin' attention ta yer lecture, honest. 'M jus' a little sleevagy is all... the hyperborean theorem? Tha's easy... the square of the hypermoose's equal to the somma the squares 'f the other sides, ya know? Like a three and a four have five as their moose, cuz nine and sixteen make twen'yfive..."

"What the hell does a moose have to do with-" you nearly ask a meaningless question. Something about the way this young woman is speaking gets under your skin, like the knife of the inquisitor who taught all the squires how to resist torture. "Never mind. Ahem. One..."

At the sound of the number, the young lady's brown eyes snap open.

"Sweet Accuser I'm gonna be la-," she jolts up from the pile of hay in a panicked scramble that comes to a grinding halt when she sees you looming over her. Clad in your black harness trimmed with red, your lips curled into a scowl while your blood red eyes glitter with bloodlust from beneath your perfectly combed pale-gold bangs, you must certainly cut an imposing figure to wake up to. She gives a nervous chuckle and says, "Well I guess I know who won the big scrap those idjits were raring for. I told 'em it wouldn't end well, the Empire don't send the sort of lady knight that'd lose against a ragtag buncha rebels. I suppose this means there's only one thing for me to do..."

She tugs nervously at her choker, an act that makes you narrow your eyes. In a flash of dark flame, your blade is next to her throat. You do not press it to her flesh, but you do keep it close enough to prick her precious carotid if it comes to it. "And just what would that be, I wonder?"

"Easy, easy, not doin' nothin' that I can't take back..." with a nervous smile on her face, she raises her hands and shows you her empty palms. A meaningless gesture from someone with arcane power, but at least her hands are away from whatever artifice she wears about her neck. You almost relax, but then - in a blur of motion that you can barely follow - she...

Bows her head to the ground, her forehead resting on the back of her hands in a gesture of complete submission. Her voice comes out somewhere between a desperate sob and a frantic plea shouted at the top of her lungs. "Please don't kill me, Miss Imperial Knight! I promise I can be useful to whatever plans you dastardly Empire folks have for these lands, whether it's kickin' puppies or pillagin' temples or whatever it is you wanna do! I got some book learnin' and I know how to tinker, and if you don't need any of that I can cook for you and clean! So... please don't kill meeeeeeeeeeeee..."

Pathetic.

This woman is so deliciously pathetic.

>>6263139
A strange noise nearly escapes your throat, the sort of noise that comes unbidden when you encounter something that fills your heart with a sweet sense of pathos that you cannot help but admire it. Like a kitten or a puppy mewling for help. Such noises are beneath the dignity of a Dreadknight, however, and you manage to cover it up with a choking cough. "Ahem. What are you doing?"

"This is my most sincere way of begging for my life, ma'am!" she declares with such absolute confidence that you almost forget that she was sobbing not a moment before. "I see that you have many shiny bone boys out there, and I would prefer not to have my bones join theirs for at least another fifty or sixty years. When I'm all shriveled up and dyin', I wouldn't mind donatin' my bones for somethin' like that, but I'd like to hit ninety before then... or even a hundred! So I am pleadin' for my life as best as I- wait, hold on."

Nearly as quickly as she prostrated herself before you, she sits up and undoes her boots. Once those are taken off and set aside, she stands up and undoes the clasps on her coveralls, letting them fall to the floor and stepping out of each leg. Before moving on to the next article of clothing, she very neatly folds them and places them next to her boots. This whole situation vaguely reminds you of things your mother would do for the clients she brought home. You liked those clients, because they'd always bring you a new toy or some nice clothes because it made your mother happy, and a happy mother was far more enthusiastic in her work than a grumpy one.

Naturally, this woman did not possess the grace your mother had in such displays. Honestly, with how mechanically she was taking everything off and folding it neatly before putting it to one side, you're not sure if this was meant to be a display. Not in the same way your mother's were.

"Seriously, what are you doing?" you drawl. "That has the be the most pathetic strip tease I've ever seen, if that's what you're trying for..."

"It ain't," she declares, before dropping to her knees. "Why would I strip tease for a lady? Even if my tits were the best in my hometown, it's not like I'd expect 'em ta do anythin' for ya... and even if it did, it's not like you'd have the sort of equipment that I'd know how to... anyways, see, I read this in a book. What ya saw before is step one to my most sincere pleadin' for my life. But they say that if ya get nekkid, fold your clothes up nice and neat and lay them out next to you, and then prostrate yerself before someone, it's even more sincere!"

She takes a deep breath, throws her hands down before your sabatons, and drops her head in a solemn bow. "Pretty please don't kill me. I - Tiffany Tentaphon - swear that I shall do whatever you want me to, so long as you let me live!"

A thought percolates in you mind. Your sneer turns into a smirk, your lance twitching in excitement as you ask, "Anything?"

>>6263144
"Anything," Tiffany declares with absolute certainty.

"Even if I told you to kill your own mother?" you ask her.

"Screw that bitch," Tiffany says with a surprising amount of venom in her voice. "She ran off on me an' Pa for some cabana boy from Tropikos who was half her fuckin' age. I'd gladly gut her like a trout, just try ta fuckin' stop me."

You raise an eyebrow at her answer, "And what if I asked you to torture your Pa to death?"

"Then I'd feel sorry fer the poor guy you found what looked like him," she tells you. There's a hint of sadness in her voice, that for the moment is absent the manic pathos that's been filling it for most of your conversation. "Pa died of mana poisoning late last year, that's why I left old Pinetown ta make my way to the Empire and maybe find some work as some noble's pet artificer."

Taking a deep breath, you come to your decision. She does not have the scent of a liar upon her, and she's so deliciously pathetic that you just want to devour her like a cake. Unclasping your codpiece, you let it drop to the floor with a loud clank that makes Tiffany flinch. "Then rejoice, Tiffany Tentaphon. I, Lady Saligia Clearwater of the Dreadknights, shall not only spare your life this day, but shall fulfill that wish of yours. From this day forward, you shall be my pet artificer. Now raise your head, and complete the pact."

"Wh-What do you mean, complete the pact?" She asks, slowly raising her head off the floor. "Are you gonna make me drink your blood? Am I gonna need to drink your blo-"

Her words die in her throat when she sees your mighty weapon staring at her, perfectly level with her eyes as she keeps on her knees. You look down at her with a sadistic smile on your face and tell her that, "You'll be drinking something of mine, yes."

"Holy shit." She swallows dryly, awe and excitement at the sight of the gift the Ravager gave you plain upon her face. She rubs her eyes, for a moment not quite believing that it's real. You give her plenty of time to come to terms with it, and when she does... "Thank you for sparing me, Lady Clearwater! Allow me to show you how I enthusiastically express my loyalty~"

=================

"I see you've found yourself another bedwarmer," Dormandal seems amused when you bring a rather bow legged Tiffany back to the Manor.

"What are you talking about?" you ask with a tilt of your head. Tiffany gives you an odd look, but that melts away into a happy blush when you grab her by the shoulder and pull her possessively close. She's your unkempt ball of failure and pathos, and the two of you know it. Addressing Dormandal's question, you tell him that, "Tiffany's the only bedwarmer that I have right now. There's the toy in the dungeons, I suppose, but that treacherous vixen isn't going to be warming my bed anytime soon. I guess I'll need her for a few more rituals, but once those are done with..."

>>6263148
>You'll kill her and hand her corpse over to Dormandal. She could make a fine banshee, if he wishes.
>You'll sell her to a stablemaster back in the Capital. Sure, you tainted her rather thoroughly, but she's still born and raised on the Material. That would net you a pretty penny.
>You'll keep her around for your own experiments. Perhaps once you've enlightened TIffany to your ways, she would make for some fine artifice materials.
>You'll send her off to prison. There are plenty of places across the Empire where such a treacherous floozy can be punished.
>(Write In)

Loot
Your share of the total loot from the sack of Brightsprings amounts to:
>500 gp in coins, jewelry, and gems
>Five longswords
>1 longbow with fifty arrows
>3 potions of healing (2d4+2)
Wondrous Items
Coin of the Truthseeker: This coin of wrought iron bears the seal of an ancient king that once ruled over these lands, before the Empire conquered them. You may whisper to it a single question and flip the coin, and the result shall give you a truthful answer. When it lands showing the old king's head, the answer is yes. When it lands showing his seal, the answer is no. If the question has no correct answer, or if the answer is hidden from divination magics, the coin lands upon its side. Once flipped, the magic leaves the coin until the next day dawns.
Safety Decanter: This crystal decanter is used by nobles to prevent assassination attempts. When a liquid is poured inside of it, all poisons are removed from it, making it safe to drink. Should the poison (or pathogen) be unable to be removed for any reason, the liquid will instead turn black.

What question do you ask the coin tonight?
>Is my mother doing well?
>Was the Marquis von Edelweiss providing arms to the rebels in the village?
>Is there any more gunpowder cached away in the village?
>(Write In)

You now have an artificer working for you who is more than happy to be paid in room, board, sundries, and What project do you put her on?
>Improving the equipment of your Skeletal Commanders.
>Improving your personal equipment.
>Crafting wards to protect the village from intruders of the divine persuasion.
>Crafting wards to further fortify the manor.
>Crafting a wondrous item.
>(Write in)

What is your next order of business?
>Desecrating the Church. It's a shame she's not a virgin anymore, but the liege lady's connection to the land and its blessing will have to do.
>Fortifying this position. You know not what allies the rebellion had, just that the Marchers of the Thornlands have not crossed the border. Improving the fortifications on the east side of the village will be important.
>Bringing the outlying farmsteads into line and reminding them of their fealty to the Empire. With violence, if necessary.
>Beginning the process of rooting out any forces that might have regrouped - or otherwise based themselves - in the wooded mountain foothills.
>(Write In)

>>6263149
>>You'll sell her to a stablemaster back in the Capital. Sure, you tainted her rather thoroughly, but she's still born and raised on the Material. That would net you a pretty penny.

Unless bone daddy wants her as a banshee.

>Is there any more gunpowder cached away in the village

MC:
>Desecrating the Church. It's a shame she's not a virgin anymore, but the liege lady's connection to the land and its blessing will have to do.
Boney Boys:
>Fortifying this position. You know not what allies the rebellion had, just that the Marchers of the Thornlands have not crossed the border. Improving the fortifications on the east side of the village will be important.

>>6263149
>You'll kill her and hand her corpse over to Dormandal. She could make a fine banshee, if he wishes.

What question do you ask the coin tonight?
>'Can we expect retaliation from Marquis Edelweiss, or any other allies of these rebels, relatively soon?'
Or
>'Is there anyone else hiding from retribution in the village?'
Preference in that order.

You now have an artificer working for you who is more than happy to be paid in room, board, sundries, and What project do you put her on?
>Crafting a wondrous item.
I forgot to vote for Artifacts after I came home from work and now we can't waterboard people infinitely with shitty whiskey. This must be rectified. Make an infinte shitty whiskey bottle.

What is your next order of business?
>Bringing the outlying farmsteads into line and reminding them of their fealty to the Empire. With violence, if necessary.
Finish the necessary pacification before we do anything else.
Alternatively, if the coin warns us of impending retaliation from rebel allies:
>Fortifying this position. You know not what allies the rebellion had, just that the Marchers of the Thornlands have not crossed the border. Improving the fortifications on the east side of the village will be important.

>>6263166
>>6263149
Missed the artificer question:
>wards for the village

>>6263149
>You'll keep her around for your own experiments. Perhaps once you've enlightened TIffany to your ways, she would make for some fine artifice materials.
>Is there any more gunpowder cached away in the village?

I imagine the Marquis has resources and wisdom to make pinning him down difficult.

>Crafting wards to protect the village from intruders of the divine persuasion.
>Desecrating the Church. It's a shame she's not a virgin anymore, but the liege lady's connection to the land and its blessing will have to do.
>Fortifying this position. You know not what allies the rebellion had, just that the Marchers of the Thornlands have not crossed the border. Improving the fortifications on the east side of the village will be important.

>>6263149
>You'll sell her to a stablemaster back in the Capital. Sure, you tainted her rather thoroughly, but she's still born and raised on the Material. That would net you a pretty penny.

>Is there any more gunpowder cached away in the village?
the most pressing one

>Crafting wards to protect the village from intruders of the divine persuasion.

>Beginning the process of rooting out any forces that might have regrouped - or otherwise based themselves - in the wooded mountain foothills.

>>6263149
>>You'll keep her around for your own experiments. Perhaps once you've enlightened TIffany to your ways, she would make for some fine artifice materials.
>Is there any more gunpowder cached away in the village?
>Improving your personal equipment.
>Desecrating the Church. It's a shame she's not a virgin anymore, but the liege lady's connection to the land and its blessing will have to do.

>>6263149
>You'll kill her and hand her corpse over to Dormandal. She could make a fine banshee, if he wishes.
There's no such thing as "too many troops" afterall.
Also, are banshees capable of performing "relief/morale" duties?

>Is there any more gunpowder cached away in the village?
Catching the mastermind can wait for another night (if JUST for another night), but we shouldn't be taking any chances for a potential Luminary to blow our hard-earned demesne into tiny bits.

>Crafting wards to protect the village from intruders of the divine persuasion.
Make sure those corpse-worshippers can't scry our actions or otherwise place curses upon our realm.

>Desecrating the Church. It's a shame she's not a virgin anymore, but the liege lady's connection to the land and its blessing will have to do.
++ Down with the Pretenders, Glory to the Divider Lords ! ++

>>6263149
>You'll keep her around for your own experiments. Perhaps once you've enlightened TIffany to your ways, she would make for some fine artifice materials.
Bonding time! with the artificer , besides it could give TIffany some experience by giving her disposable toys.
>Is there any more gunpowder cached away in the village?
That's a very pressing question, follow the gunpowder
>Crafting wards to protect the village from intruders of the divine persuasion.
Stay ever vigilant against the enemy, for he is everywhere
>Desecrating the Church. It's a shame she's not a virgin anymore, but the liege lady's connection to the land and its blessing will have to do.
Chances are that this act might make any hidden agents jump the gun from the sheer offense of it, low chance but I vote to find out.

>Not the fun sort of chewing out that you and your pillow friend back in the squire corps female barracks, either.
Wait Saligia had a pillow friend? Is she a dreadknight and field commander like us?

>>6263231
>I imagine the Marquis has resources and wisdom to make pinning him down difficult.
The Edelweiss March has a population of approximately 1.6 million people in total, the majority of whom are the closest thing you'll have to "subsistence farmers" when most temples have at least one relic that can produce enough (bland and tasteless) food to keep the population of the village fed through alms even during the worst famine.

Between its large population (for this segment of the material plane), the ever-profitable Edelweiss forgeworks, and Edelweiss City's position on the coast making it an important port of trade, he does have no small amount of resources to work with. Again, compared to his peers from this segment of the material plane. More than your average petty king or prince, less than a proper royal.

There is a good chance he has a court wizard and artificers who can provide effective protection against scrying, which means that even if he didn't do it, the coin would not be able to tell you.

To compare to District 4973 (the portion of the empire that Brightsprings sits on the North-Eastern edge of):

District 4973 has a total population of 46.3 million people, the vast majority of whom live 673rd Pit of Beleth. The 673rd Pit of Beleth has a diversified economy whose largest segment is the services industry, though like most Pit-Cities in this segment of the Material, its economy does not interact much with the surface. Instead, most trade operates through the Hellgate network at the bottom of the Pit.

Its surface city, with a population of approximately 250,000 people, is its primary interface with this segment of the Material Plane, and it mostly serves as a trading hub for "Setting Appropriate" goods produced in the greater Empire. Counting only the surface city, the total population of the district is 1.7 million.

>>6263324
>Also, are banshees capable of performing "relief/morale" duties?
With the right items, yes. You don't have those on you, but you do have an artificer pet now.

>>6263349
>Wait Saligia had a pillow friend? Is she a dreadknight and field commander like us?
As said previously, Saligia is not a virgin. Before she received the Ravager's blessing, she had a preference for men, but wasn't opposed to comforting and being comforted by other women when the supply of menfolk was short or otherwise restricted. Especially after they segregated the barracks by sex because too many of the female recruits were slacking on their training to be barracks bunnies (Saligia did not slack off, but she was a bit of a barracks bunny, being her mother's daughter and all).

Also, here's a map of the region! Not quite to scale.

>>6263149
>You'll sell her to a stablemaster back in the Capital. Sure, you tainted her rather thoroughly, but she's still born and raised on the Material. That would net you a pretty penny.
Seems like normal morties are pretty rare and valuable for a brothel, let's sell her for some cash.
>Is there any more gunpowder cached away in the village?
This is probably the most immediate concern.
>Crafting a wondrous item.
Shinies. Shinies NOW!
>Bringing the outlying farmsteads into line and reminding them of their fealty to the Empire. With violence, if necessary.
We'll bring a spot of tea and the old ultraviolence to the peasants. If they kneel, they can keep on carrying on. If they resist, their wives shall become our toys.

>>6263149
>You'll sell her to a stablemaster back in the Capital. Sure, you tainted her rather thoroughly, but she's still born and raised on the Material. That would net you a pretty penny.

>Is there any more gunpowder cached away in the village?

>Crafting wards to protect the village from intruders of the divine persuasion.

>Bringing the outlying farmsteads into line and reminding them of their fealty to the Empire. With violence, if necessary.

Rolled 43 (1d100)

Event roll really quick.

Tiffany joins you in the master bedroom for the evening, which gets you thinking about the future.

For now, Tiff is the only trophy you intend to keep. You know a guy back in Beleth who would pay premium for a Material Born noblewoman, even if she's well and thoroughly used by now, so Lady Brightspring won't be joining your collection. That said, it's traditional for a Dreadknight sworn to the Ravager to have numerous conquests throughout their careers, and to keep some of them close at hand. Rapacious conduct is not just expected, but encouraged by that order, so long as it does not directly harm the interests of the Divider Lords and the Empire.

Eventually your collection will grow big enough that each trophy will need its own space in your stronghold. The Manor has plenty of rooms on the upper floors, so you won't run out of space to divvy out any time soon, but the thoughts still come to you as you lay there beside your deliciously pathetic prize. There's a clarity that your lance grants you, once its finished its work, and it leaves you thinking about such things.

The future of your collection. The expansion of your stronghold. The safety of the toys that you decide are yours alone. Those thoughts come unbidden and remind you to make use of the coin that you found earlier this morning.

Holding it to you mouth, you whisper the question: is there any more gunpowder cached away in the village?.

When you flip the coin, it comes up tails. You can rest a bit more easily now that you know the only building that might explode is the warehouse where the skeletons stored the barrels you found beneath the church. Though now that you're relaxed, it's hard to ignore the soft ball of putty sleeping next to you. Sleep doesn't come to you for a while longer yet. For Tiff... well, you learn that she's either a very heavy sleeper, or very good at pretending.

=================

Morning finds you in an exceptionally good mood. Besides doing this and that with Tiff for a bit before the two of you got out of bed, the skeletal maids drew a nice hot bath for the both of you to clean up. Dormandal joined the pair of you for breakfast - strawberries, cream, and waffles - though he only drank a glass of milk that mysteriously disappeared down his non-existent gullet. It's good for the bones, he said, without any further explanation. After talking through your plans for the day, he and Tiff went off to build some wards for the village while you finish up the desecration of the temple.

Which leads you to the present, where you've gathered up some maids and ventured down into the manor dungeon. The Lady Brightspring lies broken and bowlegged on a pile of filthy blankets. She reeks like a whorehouse and looks worse off than that time your mother stumbled home after she and Aunt Meredith worked a fraternity's graduation party. You new recruits sure have stamina!

>>6263715
Still, the odor offends you. So you went all the way over to the temple, filled a bucket with unholy water from its baptismal font, and left it in the freeze room while you penned a letter to your friend in Beleth.

My dear Varten,

The spiders haven't eaten your guts yet, have they? Well, I suppose if you're reading this letter that means they haven't. Well, unless they've crawled up into your brainmeats and wove a web around your neurons to assume direct control. If so, I send greetings to our new parasitic arachnid overlords, and would like to remind them that as amazing as my body is, the Ravager's blessing has made me immune to their control.

Anyways, how you doing, friendo? I hope the creepy crawlies are still responding well to the arachniphonos and haven't been giving you too much trouble. An enterprising fellow like you is an asset to the Empire, and every day you gotta lay up in the hospital is a day we're all worse off. I'm still keepin' an eye out for any weird plants that spiders don't like, though I know the last one turned out to be a dud. Next one will drop them all for sure!

(If our new arachnid overlords are reading this, that was a joke. There is no search for a spider killing plant.)

The campaign's going well. We took the village two nights ago, though I'm willing to bet that there are still some rebels out in the woods. I'll be sending them off to meet their dead god soon, don't you worry.

In the meantime, I found something of interest that I know you might be in the market for. Material born noblewoman, dead to rights because she wove the flag of rebellion. Can't say she's a virgin anymore, I took care of that myself for a few rituals and have had her on relief duty ever since. But material born noblewoman is still material born noblewoman, and I bet you know a few guys who'd love a traitor to torment.

Let me know if you're interested and send me a quote. Because you're a friend, I'll hold off on putting out any other feelers until I hear back from you, and if you're offer's good enough she's yours no questions asked. I look forward to doing business with you, friendo.

Anyways, give my love to Hanah and Jane!

Your pal,

-SALIGIA

With the letter penned, you seal it with your insignia and then raise the hand that wears your Dreadknight signet. The black diamond set into the gold swirls with blood red flame, and from it a black raven springs forth into the world. A reliable messenger that you can summon four copies of at a time, which can carry letters unerringly to anyone whose face you know and then return with their response. Varten's ugly mug you know quite well, so the bird grabs the roll of parchment and flies off towards the 673rd Pit of Beleth.

>>6263716
With that done, you grab the bucket from the manor's freeze room and march down into the dungeons with a gleeful smile on your face. Your voice practically sings out your greeting to the dazed and dead-eyed noblewoman as you splash her with the bucket of ice cold unholy water. "Wake up, you treacherous cuntwaffle~!"

A pair of skeletal maids enter Lady Brightspring's cell after you douse her with cold water. With mops and buckets with gently scented soapy water, the pair of them begin to scrub the sputtering noblewoman clean. She glares up at you as the two skeletons roughly swab her body clean, her bright blue eyes almost glowing against her sclera, which have been stained black. Her arcanovascular system runs thick with the corrupted essence that you and your new recruits have poured inside of her over the past two days, a taint that she will never be free from.

"What do you want from me...?" she glowers, not even bothering to hide the precious sights left on display.

A smile creeps onto your face as you spot the pinkness in her cheeks that tells you that she hates this less than she would like you to believe. She puts on a scowl, but with the way that blush goes all the way down to the mark you engraved above her womb... "Don't you worry, Lady Brightsprings! I just need you to help me with one more ritual, and then I'll leave you to your role as morale officer for a little while longer. Unless you like the way I've been treating you?"

Her face turns red and she cannot look you in the eye. All she can do is look away and seethe, "Fuck you."

"That's the plan~!" you tell her. With a snap of your fingers, Detlev and one of the burlier men-at-arms come out from the shadows behind you. "I'm gonna fuck you right on the alter that you and that pesky priest spent so much time and treasure consecrating! I'm evening going to put the men who swore oaths to protect you and your family to the task of holding you down while I do it. That ought to desecrate whatever consecrations placed upon the temple, wouldn't you say?"

"Tch..." Lady Brightspring still puts up the act of defiance despite all the changes brought by the corruption of her essence. Wouldn't it be easier on her if she just gave into her instincts? You'll need to engrave that lesson upon her. "Do what you will to my body, but you will never sully my spirit. The Brotherhood of Seven Stars will take back the village, and they'll give you a death that's far too clean for someone like you."

So there are leftover forces in the woods...

>>6263717
You didn't intend to interrogate her, but that's a useful piece of information to know. Even if the militia failed to escape - she knows the extent of the slaughter - there's a force out there which she expects will avenge her. A part of you wants to ask after their numbers, but you strongly doubt that she was trusted with that sort of operational intelligence. A competent force would compartmentalize as much information as they can. If a Dreadknight would not be trusted with the knowledge of how many forces her district can bring to bear, a puppet-mayor would not have such information about a rebellion.

Instead of asking about that, you give her a cruel smile and remind her that, "Even if they could kill me, that wouldn't restore your virginity, you know. You'll have to live with the fact that someone you hate stole it from you, forever~"

Before she can try to say anything witty in response, you have you new recruits gag her and carry her from the cell. You have a temple to desecrate, and Lady Brightspring's connection to the land - however tenuous it becomes with every defilement you foist upon her - makes her the perfect partner for the ritual. You follow them after donning your harness, though it almost feels like a waste when you'll need to remove the codpiece so soon.

Well, this is business, not pleasure, and your armor is your business suit.

Maybe in a few months you'll be confident that you can walk around the village without needing to wear your full harness.

=================

The conclusion of the desecration leaves you satisfied and filled with the same clearheaded vigor you felt after last night's dalliances with Tiff. Lady Brightspring, on the other hand, is left in an unsightly bowlegged pose as your mixed passions seep out from betwixt her legs and stain the sacred altar with a vile corrosion that shatters the consecrations left upon them. The disrespect towards their seven angels, the treatment of the liege lady whose family shepherded the land for centuries as a common whore, and the fact that by the end of things her face twisted into a grotesque expression of wanton pleasure... all of those things piled up to invert the enchantments.

The protection against demons has been inverted into a ward against angels.

The blessings meant to encourage the throngs of people to be at peace now stokes the flames of their base instincts.

The relics meant to produce alms of food... still do so, actually, for such bland, tasteless, nutritious fare pleases the Industrialist for its efficiency.

>>6263720
Detlev and his companion wordlessly carry her away from the altar, back to the manor and its barracks rooms where your newest recruits will doubtlessly pass her around like a cumrag until they've had their fill of her. It's mostly harmless, they don't have the equipment to ruin her the way a demon could; even your blessed lance would be hard pressed to match the common Balban's ability to simply ruin someone. Still, you probably want to have them perform some other duty beyond making the Lady Brightspring's waking moments a hell of pleasure...
>Send them into the woods as a scouting party, to return back with any captives they can take.
>Have them work manual labor. There's a quarry nearby, and you need stone to finish the walls.
>Have them work manual labor. The forest is filled with trees that you can use for constructing siege engines.
>Use them as your personal guard. They'll go where you go to serve as a convenient meat shield.
>(Write in)

As the afternoon rolls in, the commander of the 2nd Company approaches you with shrieks and rattles that take you a moment to parse. It appears that one of his patrols was wiped out.
>Throw more skeletons at the problem. You have plenty more bones to be raised.
>Go deal with this personally. Your blade thirsts for new recruits.
>Demonstrate to these rebels why they should not do this with a "proportional response" against some of the farmers. Civilians shall be interred.
>Demonstrate to these rebels why they should not do this with a "proportional response" against some of the farmers. Civilians shall be butchered to replace the lost forces.
>Demonstrate to these rebels why they should not do this with a "proportional response" against some of the farmers. Civilians shall be "recruited" as with Detlev.
>(Write In)

>>6263721
>>Send them into the woods as a scouting party, to return back with any captives they can take.

>>Go deal with this personally. Your blade thirsts for new recruits.
Although reminding the outlying farms, homesteads and other settlements of their loyalty to the Empire just jumped up our priority list... to right after the immediate problem is dealt with.

>>6263720
>all of those things piled up to invert the enchantments.
>The protection against demons has been inverted into a ward against angels.
>The blessings meant to encourage the throngs of people to be at peace now stokes the flames of their base instincts.
so it works like a cap the flag game. funny.
>>6263721
>Send them into the woods as a scouting party, to return back with any captives they can take.

>Go deal with this personally. Your blade thirsts for new recruits.
we're free anyway

>>6263721
>Use them as your personal guard. They'll go where you go to serve as a convenient meat shield.
>Go deal with this personally. Your blade thirsts for new recruits.

I'm assuming those unworthy to become our new recruits can still be reanimated as skeletons?

>>6263721
>Send them into the woods as a scouting party, to return back with any captives they can take.
>Go deal with this personally. Your blade thirsts for new recruits.

>>6263721
>Send them into the woods as a scouting party, to return back with any captives they can take.
>Go deal with this personally. Your blade thirsts for new recruits.

>>6263721
>Use them as your personal guard. They'll go where you go to serve as a convenient meat shield.
>Go deal with this personally. Your blade thirsts for new recruits.

>>6263721
>>Have them work manual labor. There's a quarry nearby, and you need stone to finish the walls.
>Go deal with this personally. Your blade thirsts for new recruits.

>>6263721
>Have them work manual labor. There's a quarry nearby, and you need stone to finish the walls.

>Go deal with this personally. Your blade thirsts for new recruits

Equipment

Mundane Equipment

Casual Clothing - The casual clothes worn by Saligia over the bodysuit provided by her Tainted Bulwark relic in situations where her harness is unnecessary. Her wardrobe primarily consists of red-trimmed women's togas woven from white pseudo-silk, common fashion in Upper Tartarus. She wears the same cut as her mother, where the toga opens at the waist to leave a leg fully exposed. The last person who said that the cut made Saligia look like a whore quickly learned that the cut also allowed her to kick high enough to break said woman's nose - something a more modest cut would not allow.

Officer's Camping Kit - A kit containing the standard issue equipment for a knighted officer in service to the Imperial Military. This contains the officer's personal standard, a pavilion tent with six lightstones, a collapsible table, a large tent with two lightstones, two cots, six all weather blankets, a five gallon shower system with a firestone, two mess kits, a kettle, a firestone hotplate.

Rations - Standard shelf-stable rations issued to Imperial soldiers on campaign within this segment of the Material Plane. Due to the heavy use of undead soldiers upon this world, the logistics division is able to focus on quality over quantity for its living officer's corps. These rations are designed for field use rather than consumption at a held position, unless that position has been dimension locked and cut off from logistical supply chains. Their shelf stability is good for a ten year period in normal conditions. She was issued three of each menu for this campaign.
>Menu A: Meatballs in Gravy, Roast Potatoes and Veggies, Pound Cake, Berry Preserve Spread, Cheddar Cheese Spread, Snack Bread, Electrolyte Drink Mix, Coffee Mix x2
>Menu B: Bowtie Pasta in Meat Sauce, Beans and Greens in Red Sauce, Tip of the Spear (tm) Bar, Parmesan Squares, Dried Apricots, Snack Bread, Nojito Drink Mix, Coffee Mix x2
>Menu C: Chili with Beans, Cornbread, Jalapeno Cheese Spread, Whole Wheat Snack Bread, Fudge Brownie, Dried Kiwi, Nojito Drink Mix, Coffee Mix x2
>Menu D: Brisket, Garlic Butter Mashed Potatoes, Cookie (Chocolate Chip), Peanut Butter, Berry Preserve Spread, Snack Bread, Electrolyte Drink Mix, Beleth Cream Cappuccino x2
>Menu E: Chicken Burritos, Spiced Peaches, Berry and Nuts Mix I, Tip of the Spear (tm) Bar, Cheese Spread, Hot Sauce, Whole Weat Snack Bread, Nojito Drink Mix, Coffee Mix x2

Windbuchse - The standard issue Imperial long arm weapon for this segment of the Material Plane. This weapon uses pressurized air bladders to launch .45 caliber bullets at a speed of 200 m/s. Its tube magazine can hold 20 bullets, which is the amount of shots that a fully charged air bladder can fire at useful pressure. While durable enough for field use, these weapons are not currently standard issue for mindless undead.

>>6264076
Wondrous Items

Dreadknight Harness - A full plate harness in the colors of a Dreadknight's Demonic Patron; in Saligia's case, the black and red of the Ravager. Most sets are of a semi-living variety, designed to respond to the wearer's growth and preferences in armor. It can change configuration to a more form fitting Parade Armor - sometimes derided as "boobplate" or "armor abs" - from its more optimal battlefield configuration at the wishes of the wearer. The differences in effectiveness against most weapons is negligible enough that the configuration does not impact the wearer's AC.

Dreadknight's Signet - A golden ring set with a black diamond and personal insignia, granted upon graduation from the Squire Corps. In addition to serving as a badge of office, it allows the dreadknight to summon a messenger raven to carry letters and other correspondence while out in the field. These ravens can reach most anyone on a Cradle-Equivalent World within a week of flight - with some flights being much shorter - and will wait for a response before returning to the Dreadknight. A Dreadknight can have a number of summoned ravens equal to their Charisma Modifier (minimum 2); attempts to summon additional ravens will simply fail. A raven can only be sent to someone the Dreadknight knows, and they can be instructed to vanish upon delivery rather than waiting for a response.

Impurity Seal (Hands) - A seal that boosts the power of an invoked Weapon Relic in its associated chakra, increasing the weapon's enhancement bonus by +1

Coin of the Truthseeker: This coin of wrought iron bears the seal of an ancient king that once ruled over these lands, before the Empire conquered them. You may whisper to it a single question and flip the coin, and the result shall give you a truthful answer. When it lands showing the old king's head, the answer is yes. When it lands showing his seal, the answer is no. If the question has no correct answer, or if the answer is hidden from divination magics, the coin lands upon its side. Once flipped, the magic leaves the coin until the next day dawns.

Safety Decanter: This crystal decanter is used by nobles to prevent assassination attempts. When a liquid is poured inside of it, all poisons are removed from it, making it safe to drink. Should the poison (or pathogen) be unable to be removed for any reason, the liquid will instead turn black.

Coinage

Salary - As a Dreadknight of the Imperial military and a command officer, you draw a salary of 30 silver denarii a week (equivalent to one month of unskilled labor).

Pension - The Industrialist and the Autocrat have implemented a pension plan for all soldiers. After 50 or more years, for every 10 years served, a soldier is entitled to a silver denarius a day.

Loot - 5000 silver denarii worth of gems and coins taken as your share from the village.

>>6263783
Yes they can!

>>6263721
>>Have them work manual labor. There's a quarry nearby, and you need stone to finish the walls.
>>Go deal with this personally. Your blade thirsts for new recruits
>>6264076
Our tabard looks dope. Also based industrialist and autocrat, giving servicemen a pension.

That said, what the hell is the tech level here? We have banners, dress for battle like a knight, our skeleton bros wield spears and shields, but we have a portable shower and a hotplate? An air rifle? And are those rations just MREs?

>>6264076
>The last person who said that the cut made Saligia look like a whore quickly learned that the cut also allowed her to kick high enough to break said woman's nose
nice

Rolled 85 (1d100)

Rolling for the difficulty of the encounter.

>>6264184
is the high number good or bad ?

"Where are you off to in such a hurry?" Dormandal catches you on your way out the South Gate.

He and Tiff appear to be working on the creation of a Wardstone as you pass them by. Tiff has set up next to the wall with her engraving tools, carving a pattern into the stone in accordance with a design set out on parchment by Dormandal. Her butt wiggles happily as she goes about her work, lost in a trance of deep concentration as her tools perfectly carry out the design. While she carves, Dormandal brews the substance that will fill the etching that Tiff creates: a blend of mithral dust, worldtree sap, and other materials that when combined create a waxy paste that conducts magic well.

"A second company patrol got wiped out in the southern forest," you explain. Your pale horse comes to a halt with a squeeze of your thighs. The three squads of 4th Company bone boys that you intend to bring with you rattle to a stop as well. "I sent out the new recruits to fill in for the patrol, but I intend to skewer the seditious, treacherous, insurrectionist rats who think they can defy the Empire and live to tell the tale myself."

The purple flames in Dormandal's eye sockets flicker in concentration, "I see. And what if they intend to draw you out and cut you off from the main body of your force? Overwhelm the lone Dreadknight with numbers?"

"Don't worry, Dormandal, I did my homework," you say. Your horse trots over to his table, disappearing in a puff of smoke when you dismount. Rolling out a piece of parchment, you show him a map of the patrol areas. "The patrol disappeared about two miles off the southern road, here, according to the 2nd Company's commander. Recon from third company estimates that force that wiped out the 2nd Company patrol is a single armed unit with between four and eight members. There were no signs of reinforcements, and the armed unit did not seem in a rush to return to base."

"And I saw the other half of 4th Company take their leave of the village half an hour ago," Dormandal says with a twinkle in his eye.

"I sent the Commander out for some recon-in-force," you explain. Three black pieces appear from your bag, set down on the map. You move them through the woodlands in a particular pattern, one where the three squads remain within eachother's lifesense while casting a net over the area, so to speak. One that would push your target towards the southern road. "Either the enemy is completely oblivious, and we'll have their location for a raid, or the Commander will drive them right towards the anvil I'm preparing."

Dormandal contemplates the map for a moment before nodding to himself. "So you won't be cut off from your forces, but you're allowing yourself to be drawn out - if that is their plan. The strategy you set up is quite sound, but why leave the village when you don't need to? I doubt there's reason for you to be a part of this 'anvil' you're setting up for the 4th Company."

>>6264224
"Why is Tiff hand carving your rune into the wall's load bearing stone?" You ask Dormandal in return. His teeth move in a way that vaguely reminds you of a wry smile, as that's just the sort of rhetorical question he would normally ask you. "The hands of a craftsman are a magic of their own, and the greatest of them truly love their work. My craft is violence, and as splendid as my skeletal soldiers are, mine own hands are my favorite tool. Tiffany, would you have lowered yourself to etching that sigil with an acid, when you've two good hands to use?"

You hear the sound of a hammer and chisel clattering to the ground. Tiffany can be seen staring at the fruit of her labors, and then down at her hands with a look of dismay carved onto her face. "Fiddle-fucks! Are you telling me that I could have been using a solvent for this the entire time? I thought that magic stuff had to be done by hand, otherwise... that was three hours of my life, wasted..."

"Don't fret, don't fret," Dormandal's deep voice echoes. "And don't fetch any acid etching tools. The acids with clog up the stone's pores, very good for a shiny table finish but terrible for the rune to bind. Keep at it, Miss Tentaphon, you're doing great."

Somewhat despondent, Tiffany returns to her work.

For a minute or two, silence reigns over the air as you and Dormandal both turn your eyes to the map, contemplating the pieces without contemplating what they stand for.

"My point still stands," you finally say, breaking the awkward silence.

"Does it, now?" Dormandal sounds amused.

"A solvent can certainly carve rock with less effort than a chisel." You readily admit that it would certainly be easier - and in some ways, more efficient - for you to leave the slaughter to the 4th Company and remain in the village for other work that needs be done. "Yet just as the solvent would ruin the surface for binding your concoction..."

Dormandal lets the words hang for a moment, before nodding. "I see, now. You'd rather twist the stronger ones to your bidding than add them to the bone pile. I cannot deny that Mr. Detlev is far more impressive than most skeletons, though his companions much less so."

"If you want their bones for something, feel free to flay them," you tell Dormandal.

He brings a bony hand up to his chin for a moment, stroking a beard that is no longer there. "Perhaps if one of them is killed. The Ravager's corruption brings about physiological changes in its victims beyond its effects on the arcanovascular system. Your bones, for instance, are far more durable than average. Working with the corpse of one of you minions might prove to be a very fascinating endeavor."

>>6264225
"Speaking of necromancy..." your eyes shift to a certain pile in the town square as you put away the map and pieces. "It looks like the First Company has finally finished stripping the townsfolk of their flesh and getting them dipped in iron for you. What sort of reinforcements can I expect, once you get around to working on them?"

"Well, I'll be replenishing the second company back to full fighting strength first and foremost," Dormandal reassures you. Raising skeletal warriors from bones that have been prepared takes little time at all, so that won't eat into his work all that much. "Once I've finished designing the wards for Miss Tentaphon to build, I think I'll make you something a bit more interesting than platoons to bring you to double strength. Consider it a belated graduation present..."

Dormandal will make you a single advanced form of Undead from the corpses you've collected.
>Bone Storm. Less a monster or a siege engine, and more of a disaster. These bones become a charnel swarm thirty feet accross, and add the skeletons of any they kill to replenish the storm. Unfortunately, for all its terrifying destructive power, it's not very durable, and is especially weak to positive energy.
>Skeletal Titan. An undead siege engine twenty feet tall, designed for smashing through castle walls. It's a big, chunky target, tough to take down, but it's slow and lumbering compared to many other options.
>Bone Reaper. A gigantic centipede made out of bones. Not quite as durable as a skeletal titan, not quite as destructive towards the living as a Bone Storm, it is a happy medium between the two and very much wins in speed against the both of them.

Not two hours later, you arrive with your forces at the anvil position on the south road towards the Whisperlode Mine. The afternoon is slowly fading into evening, and if everything goes right you should have the worms who assaulted the 2nd Company crushed beneath your bootheels before dusk falls. A runner emerges from the forest not long after you arrive, approaching you immediately and rattling off some new information in the tongue of the dead.

Enemy has made camp and set a fire.
Count of five irregulars.
No banners identify their allegiance.
How shall we proceed?

With this new information in mind, you...
>Proceed as planned. The Commander will drive the enemy your way, the hammer to your anvil. (Combat Roll)
>Proceed with the other plan. Since they made camp, time for you to raid it. (Combat Roll)
>Get closer and observe their activities, try to gather information (Rolls of Stealth and Perception)
>Approach them and attempt to persuade them to surrender. (Rolls of Persuasion and Intimidation)
>Approach them under false pretenses to gather information. (Rolls of Deception and Persuasion)
>Wait for night to fall and kill them in their sleep. (Rolls of Stealth and Combat Roll)
>(Write In)

>>6264226
>Skeletal Titan
Huge!
>Proceed with the other plan. Since they made camp, time for you to raid it. (Combat Roll)
They could be bait for us while they keep more firces hidden nearby, but I do not care. Raid them!

>>6264226
>Bone Reaper. A gigantic centipede made out of bones. Not quite as durable as a skeletal titan, not quite as destructive towards the living as a Bone Storm, it is a happy medium between the two and very much wins in speed against the both of them.
Titan is a good second choice; we probably wouldn't get much use out of it for awhile though, hence my choice

>Proceed with the other plan. Since they made camp, time for you to raid it. (Combat Roll)

If we want information we can always just not kill one of them.

>>6264226
>Skeletal Titan. An undead siege engine twenty feet tall, designed for smashing through castle walls. It's a big, chunky target, tough to take down, but it's slow and lumbering compared to many other options.

>Skeletal Titan. An undead siege engine twenty feet tall, designed for smashing through castle walls. It's a big, chunky target, tough to take down, but it's slow and lumbering compared to many other options.

>>6264226
>Bone Reaper. A gigantic centipede made out of bones. Not quite as durable as a skeletal titan, not quite as destructive towards the living as a Bone Storm, it is a happy medium between the two and very much wins in speed against the both of them.

Our current force composition is largely infantry-based and lacked any mobility options beyond Saligia herself. Unless we can get cavalry units sometime soon we'd need the mobility of the big-skellie-crawlie for both flanking maneuvers and reconnaissance, plus we also need mobile units for chasing down stragglers.

>Proceed as planned. The Commander will drive the enemy your way, the hammer to your anvil. (Combat Roll)
>(Write-in) Can we time the attack so both forces arrice at the camp at the same time?

>>6264226
>Skeletal Titan. An undead siege engine twenty feet tall, designed for smashing through castle walls. It's a big, chunky target, tough to take down, but it's slow and lumbering compared to many other options.
I'd go for the Reaper, but there's the possibility we'll have to attack somewhere with decent defense.

>Proceed as planned. The Commander will drive the enemy your way, the hammer to your anvil. (Combat Roll)

>>6264121
>what the hell is the tech level here?

Based on how the QM has been describing things, the Empire seems to be multi-dumensional and adjusts equipment and weapons of it's forces based on a given world's tech or magical level.

Though this does raise the question if why it does so instead of just going full tech supremacy with magical airborne carrier fleets or w/e.

>>6264121
As this anon here has guessed >>6264318 the Empire (as it is commonly referred to) spans across multiple planes of existence, and the spectrum of what technologies get deployed where is context sensitive and subject to the various treaties that the Empire is signatory to. While the largest faction in the setting by far and arguably the most advanced, the Empire is beset on all sides by numerous foes that they cannot simply crush without leaving themselves vulnerable to a devastating counterattack.

The treaty that prevents full-blown tech supremacy is the Treaty of Ascalon, which was actually signed to restrain the Remnant of Luminare from using their most advanced technologies and magics on worlds that are not near peer. This treaty was metaphysically binding and went both ways, however, so even though the Empire has caught up with - and in many places exceeds - the Remnant, they must use equipment and magics that the locals can understand.

Basically, they can be 2-3 eras ahead of the locals. The Native Americans were more or less stone-age, but despite memes they came to understand (and love) firearms rather quickly, so the lowest you'll see the Empire going is what you're at right now. Early modern tech with air bladders subbing in for gunpowder to avoid giving the locals explosives.

Logistics stuff (the Rations) is a bit more flexible, especially on worlds where magic sees frequent use.

The Empire has spent the time since its founding (upon the Dies Irae, where the 10,000 pretenders to the Throne of G-d were cast down by the forces of Hell) pushing these treaties to their absolute limit. I won't give "exact words" because I know Anon is smarter than me and will find a loophole that isn't written if I do, but consider every game-breaking bug to have been found and been exploited in your favor.

The Pit of Beleth on this planet will be one of the places where you will more freely see the Empire's Tech in use. Not on the Surface City, and not for waging war, but you'll see more of the civilian technologies available there.

Saligia isn't super-spoiled by technology because she grew up in Deep Tartarus. Even though Tartarus is one of the core districts of Hell itself - where all power of the Empire converges - Deep Tartarus only really benefited from the sort of logistical tech that she can access in this section of the Material Plane anyways. Food preservation and storage, modern fabrics and textiles, medical care; when you're Pit Born you're not rich enough for leisure tech or the more expensive weapons tech.

Also, did a bigger version of the banner with a more detailed skull. I think the vines came out more like a green ribbon than what I intended, though...

>>6264226
>Skeletal Titan
Kaiju are kool.

>Proceed with the other plan. Since they made camp, time for you to raid it. (Combat Roll)
Warhorny: activate!

>>6264377
The flowers make the vine's nature obvious by association.

>>6264377
>The treaty that prevents full-blown tech supremacy is the Treaty of Ascalon, which was actually signed to restrain the Remnant of Luminare from using their most advanced technologies and magics on worlds that are not near peer. This treaty was metaphysically binding and went both ways, however, so even though the Empire has caught up with - and in many places exceeds - the Remnant, they must use equipment and magics that the locals can understand.
I see, but why did the remnant sign it if they're on a disavantage ?

>>6264405
So the Treaty of Ascalon was signed very shortly after the Dies Irae, with its signature being considered the end of the Dies Irae. Luminare (the last of the 10,000 pretenders) was gone, the forces of Hell were zerg rushing planets across the Material and putting untold quintillions of people to the sword for the sin of worshipping pretenders to the Throne of G-d, the Empire had just seized Luna, and the Cradle was going to be next. To avoid bombing the birthplace of humanity to a lifeless hunk of rock and acid, the Remnant and a few other factions came to the table.

The weapons limitations were (one of) the concessions the Empire squeezed out of the Remnant during the negotiations of the end of that conflict. Probably the biggest of them at the time, because it meant that the Remnant could only deploy their (limited) superweapons in a very select number of situations rather than using them to flip an already decided game. The Remnant got a few concessions out of the Empire as well, including a clause that prevented Demons from chain summoning one another into the Material (limitation also applied to Angels, but they were less reliant on it). This made mortals a much more important part of Hell's war machine than previously, thus programs like the Dreadknights.

After all the cattle trading at the negotiation table, the Empire came out with enough of an edge that while their expansion slowed, it did not stop.

Meanwhile, the Remnant got the big thing they wanted, which was the designation of the Cradle and its solar system as a protected neutral zone that will not be targeted by any faction. Even with it now deep in Empire Territory, members of all factions can freely make a pilgrimage to it... from one of the designated border worlds, aboard unarmed transit run by the governing body of the Cradle System. Though the biggest reason they signed it was for the war to end.

>>6264226
>>Skeletal Titan. An undead siege engine twenty feet tall, designed for smashing through castle walls. It's a big, chunky target, tough to take down, but it's slow and lumbering compared to many other options.
>Approach them and attempt to persuade them to surrender. (Rolls of Persuasion and Intimidation)

>>6264226
>Proceed with the other plan. Since they made camp, time for you to raid it. (Combat Roll)

>Bone Reaper. A gigantic centipede made out of bones. Not quite as durable as a skeletal titan, not quite as destructive towards the living as a Bone Storm, it is a happy medium between the two and very much wins in speed against the both of them.
Can the Bone Reaper carry our Skelebros?

>>6264432
>The Remnant got a few concessions out of the Empire as well, including a clause that prevented Demons from chain summoning one another into the Material (limitation also applied to Angels, but they were less reliant on it). This made mortals a much more important part of Hell's war machine than previously, thus programs like the Dreadknights.
so demons can only be summoned by mortals now ? interesting.

Rolled 8, 14, 12, 13 = 47 (4d20)

Rolling Combat Rolls. First two dice are your [Command] Roll for the 4th Company, rolled at +4. Next two dice are your [Attack] Roll, rolled at +8.

Winning Vote: Proceed with the other plan. Since they made camp, time for you to raid it.

With a Skeletal Commander, you have advantage on the [Command] Roll.

You are engaging the enemy textbook, with forces 3 or more times the enemy numbers, granting advantage on the [Command] Roll.

Being mounted and unopposed by enemy cavalry grants you a major edge in the melee, granting you advantage on your [Attack] Roll.

There are no necromancers in the village to contest control of your forces. (No Penalty)

Opposition Clerics can Turn Undead (Remove one instance of Advantage).

Opposition forces have already spent their holy water in the encounter that wiped out 2nd Company's patrol. (No Penalty)

Command Roll Results
Below 10 - Opposition forces break out, save those you kill or capture personally. 15% chance to lose your Commander.
DC 10 - Opposition forces are defeated, however their tankier members hold the line long enough for 1d2+2 members of the back row to escape (unless you deal with them personally).
DC 15 - Opposition forces are defeated, but they buy enough enough time for 1d2 members of the back row to escape (unless you deal with them personally).
DC 20 - Total. Skeleton. Victory. All enemy forces defeated.

Attack Roll Results
Below 10 - Opposition forces counter your presence and knock you out of the fight. 15% chance of a major injury.
DC 10 - You harry the enemy forces, preventing their escape. 1d2 opponents who would have escaped fall to your blade.
DC 15 - You terrorize the enemy forces, preventing their effective resistance. 2d2 opponents who would have fled fall to your blade.
DC 20 - Your presence on the battlefield turns the tide of battle. As DC 15, but your Command Roll is treated as if it were 5 higher.
DC 25 - You rule the battlefield. None dare oppose you. As DC 15, but the command roll is treated as if it was 10 higher.

>>6264700
Angels as well. The restrictions go both ways. Mortal forces are a must for both sides.

>>6264716
so if I read it correctly, our 13+8 roll means that our command rolls achieved TSV. nice

>Angels as well. The restrictions go both ways. Mortal forces are a must for both sides.
sure, it's just that you said angels were less dependent on it

>>6264716

>>6264771
>>6264757
TOTAL. SKELETAL. VICTORY.

At first glance, this must certainly be a trap set out by the rebels. A force no more than five men strong would not have been able to wipe out a patrol of four runecarved skeletons without casualties unless they took extreme care in their approach. Not unless one of them possessed strength and magic that would put them on par with a Dreadknight. Though intelligence did not report on the rebel scum having any exceptional individuals among them, you cannot rule the possibility out.

And honestly?

The thought excites you.

Detlev and his men-at-arms put up such a disappointing resistance when they approached your camp. Detlev possessed the only pair of balls between the six of them, though he unfortunately lacked the ways and means to back them up. The rest turned tail and fled despite knowing they were dead men walking. They could have done you the courtesy of taking a swing, entertaining you, but they instead proved to be twice as pathetic as Tiffany and not half as attractive. The idea that one of them might give you the first proper fight you've had since graduating from the Squire Corps leaves your heart ringing in your ear and sets your blood aflame.

Before you can think a second thought about traps and ambushes, the Blade of the Defiler has leapt from its scabbard and into your hand hand. The bone boys stand at the ready, so you ride down the line and tap your blade against the tips of their spears. When you reach the end of the line, you thrust the black blade forward and shout: "Fourth Company, forward! No quarter, no mercy! Only death to those who oppose the Empire!"

The skeletons shriek their battle cry, bones rattling as they slam the butts of their spears against the hard packed dirt of the road.

Then you are off. The pale horse between your legs whinnies as you urge it forward with your thighs, its black coat and golden mane like a streak of ebon lightning as it blitzes through the woods. Behind you the clatter of steel armor and ironclad bone follows behind, your soldiers keeping in their diamond formation despite the thick undergrowth that would have slowed a force of living soldiers down. Your warhorse tramples the weed and the thicket with ease, rushing ahead a full speed as it feels your excitement and bloodlust over the summoning bond.

Such is your excitement that you may have left your skeletons behind, your eyes forward and your mind putting the fact that even tireless ironclad bones cannot keep up with a pale horse crashing through the forest at speed. You charge forward without subtlety or fear of what lay ahead... and when you catch the scent of their campfire in their clearing, you have the pale horse circle around. If you remember the terrain from the map, there's a perfect little hillock that overlooks the clearing with a short cliff, and...

Yes! There it is. You guide your pale horse to the edge of the cliff, turn it slightly to the side, and pull back hard upon the reigns.

>>6264871
The pale horse gives an unearthly shriek as it pulls back onto its hind legs and kicks the air with fury and grace. A demonic sound, a sound that births fear in the hearts of those who oppose the Empire, like the mighty shriek of ten thousand skeletons. You raise the Blade of the Defiler to the sky in perfect timing with your steed's roar, allowing its shadow to cast a darkness on the camp below. Your voice carries far upon the wind as you call out to its occupants, "You whom have trespassed against the Empire! Know that you have signed the warrant for your death the moment you took up arms against its loyal soldiers. There will be no quarter for you this day, but it is not too late to accept the hand of mercy. Lay down your arms, and I swear to the Autocrat and the Ravager that your deaths shall be quick and painless."

The occupants of the camp look up at you from their campfire, where sausages are currently cooking.

Three are men, two are women. The men are all rather nondescript and ordinary folk, the sort of fellows that the nobles of this world could pick off the street of any village, shove into a set of piecemeal armor, and call them levies when the time for war came. One of the women is dressed in the modest uniform of the Brides of Luminare, an order of priestesses with vows of chastity that you think you will enjoy breaking for her once all of this fighting is done. Though she may have already broken it, considering how clingy she's getting with the other woman. That one has a rich tan and a mop of messy red hair. Her dress leaves you a bit wary, as you can smell the enchantments upon her armor. While it might look like flashy and revealing swimwear, it's an anchor for a constant Mage Armor effect that convinces you that she's a spellsword of some sort.

The three men exchange glances with one another, before they all turn as one to the tanned woman like good minions looking to their superior for orders.

"Well, Big Sis, we gonna listen to this gal?" one of the men asks. He's the burly one, with a morningstar accompanying his piecemeal armor.

"We'll follow your lead, captain," the second man says. He's wiry but strongly built, with a thin sword in his hands.

"She's just one Dreadknight, I bet we can take her!" the youngest of the men says, stars in his eyes and an expression of admiration on his face.

That earns him a glare from the priestess, who rather possessively throws herself onto the shoulder of the spellsword and says, "Big Sis knows that, you idiot! There's no one in the world who can defeat Big Sis, especially when I'm healing her. Now go be useful and shoot your bow at the interloper. Maybe take a blow for Big Sis so that she can get the killing blow and you can die tragically."

The red-haired woman pats the nun on the shoulder. "Now, now, there's no need for that, Stella. We're an adventuring party, we need to get along, not bicker with one another."

>>6264873
With those words, the group's 'Big Sis' rises to her feet from her place at the campfire. A cocky grin lights up her face, her green eyes flickering with the swirl of magic beneath them. You catch the slits of her pupils without the sweet smell of demonic taint, marking her as someone with dragon blood. She almost certainly has the power to back up the swagger, but so do you. The only reason you let her mosey forward and speak her peace, instead of simply running her down is that you've realized that you left your skeletons in the dust. Every second you let her speak, is more time for them to catch up.

"So, Miss Dreadknight, that was an impressive threat you gave us there," she says with a click of her tongue. "Problem is, I'm not sure you're gonna be able to deliver on it. See, I gots me a pretty balanced party back here. Robert there's pretty good with that morningstar, Mikhail's a dead shot with his longbow, Stella keeps everyone in tip top shape, and Clint there just loves casting fireball. Plus, I mean, I'm pretty strong you know? If this is about the skeletons, well... we heard some spooky bones raised a town to the ground, and we don't like that, do we Clint?"

"Yeah, we're gonna root 'em out!" Clint declares, clearly not understanding the scope that 'rooting them out' would involve. "That's what Lord Kettleburn's payin' us for, after all!"

You, smirk and the tanned woman scowls. Letting you know that this Lord Kettleburn is paying them to chip away at the undead you're using to occupy the village clearly violated some adventuring protocol or another. You'll need to look up that name once you get back to town. Learning about the rebel's backers is almost worth losing a squad of your precious bone boys... almost, but not quite. Certainly more important than killing these five, though if they're as balanced a group as the spellsword claims then they might make for good minions...

Almost as good as your crack company of skeletons. Your eyes spot the Commander in the woodline opposite your approach. He read the mood, having the rest of the skeletons hold back until you give him a signal. After all, the more these fools keep talking, the more information they might let slip.

"Dammit, Clint," the spellsword shakes her head, before raising her sword to you. "Sorry Miss Dreadknight, I was gonna be sporting and let you run home and bring back your army so that I might get a good fight out of this. Clint's gone and spoiled that, though, what with dropping our employer's name. So if you could do me a favor and drop your weapon so I can kill you all painless and clean like? Or better yet, don't do that, and let me have a little fun with ya before the end."

"Funny, I was going to say the same thing," you tell her. Looking down on her from atop the cliff, your eyes meet, and you can see your own bloodlust reflected in her. "Drop your weapon and choose a clean death, or face a fate that's a bit more... messy."

>>6264875
The redhead scoffs. "And what do you think you'll do if I don't."

"Simple," your eyes glow red with bloodlust... and the other sort of lust that goes hand in hand with it for you. "You'll get to receive my love. It's a strong love. A beautiful love. A love that's powerful and terrible as the ocean's black abyss. A dark love. A love that crushes like a mace. And when I'm done sharing that love with you, I'll share it with that nun that clings to you so tightly. Perhaps I'll let you watch as I show her the love that the Divider Lords have given unto me. And when I'm done with her, perhaps I'll share it with Clint as well! He's awfully pretty for a man..."

Your words are earnest.

Your words are genuine.

Your words are calculated to provoke this woman's disgust and rage. The reactions of her companions, especially when you talk about Clint, are delightfully amusing. Seeing the color drain from their faces as you threaten them with... well, the fun that comes after your victory, it stirs your heart and your loins the same. The way she seethes is perfect, and you know you've won when she growls, "You psychopath, you think you're being cute?"

"Bitch," your sword cuts through the air in a wide arcing gesture... and stops to point directly at the Commander. "I'm adorable."

At your words, a rain of black-headed arrows bursts from the tree line, well aimed and flying in rapid succession. Within a matter of seconds the woman's compatriots have fallen to the ground, either dead from the keen aim of your skeletal warriors, or making themselves a smaller target against the ceaseless volleys of arrows. The 'Big Sis' turns in shock, and you waste no time taking advantage of the opening. However strong she might have been - and from the scent of the arcane wafting off her, she was strong indeed - a well trained warhorse is a terrible and mighty weapon. Your pale horse does not tire from a gallop, it does not flinch from the sound of a gun or the point of a hastily raised sword.

It leaps from the cliffside and crashes through, slamming into the woman with all of its mass. Her sword clatters uselessly against its armor, and the sheer force of the collision sends her tumbling limp to the ground. Its hooves crash at the barrier created by that flashy armor she wears as it gallops by, pushing her into the mud and muck. The cracked barrier is left weak enough that your sword pierces through, enchanted by the Impurity Seal stamped onto your pauldron. The wound you leave does not strike her vitals, but the corruption seeps into her body all the same.

With every foe down, the skeletons pour in from the forest and surround those who still live.

>>6264876
Clint the Mage and Stella the Priestess ducked early and fast when the arrows came, but Robert and Mikhail were not so lucky. Still alive, but bleeding out if you don't allow Stella to tend to their wounds. Their leader is dazed and unable to fight, while the black ichor of corruption is slowly seeping through her body. You know a few ways to accelerate that process, of course, but some are more difficult than others.

What do you do with Clint and Stella?
>Kill them both.
>Kill Clint, you'll keep Stella as a pet.
>Kill Stella, you'll keep Clint as a pet.
>Use the Blade of the Defiler to turn them into Minions.
>Take them as prisoners.
>Write In

What do you do with Robert and Mikhail?
>Let them die.
>Use the Blade of the Defiler to turn them into Minions.
>Allow Stella to heal them and take them prisoner.
>Write In

What do you do with the leader?
>Use the Blade of the Defiler to turn her into a Minion.
>Use your lance to engrave your seal into her, right here and now.
>Kill her.
>Take her prisoner.
>Write In.

>>6264877
What do you do with the leader?
>Use your lance to engrave your seal into her, right here and now.
>Use the Blade of the Defiler to turn her into a Minion.
In that order, otherwise it probably won't be as fun.
For the rest:
>Allow Stella to heal them
But only just enough to keep them from bleeding out. They'll all be forced to watch as you break their 'Big Sis'. Complete and utterly morale break this party for their cocky attitude. Then when we're done:
>Use the Blade of the Defiler to turn them into Minions.

>>6264877
>Take them as prisoners.
clint is the guy who spilled the info, so he'll be the best of them to give us more.

>Use the Blade of the Defiler to turn them into Minions.

>Use your lance to engrave your seal into her, right here and now.

>>6264877
In chronological order:
>Use the Blade of the Defiler to turn Rober and Mikhail into Minions.
No-brainer, they're at least somewhat proficient in combat and we have enough time to at least try to turn them so why not.
>(Write-in) Turn Clint into a minion, you'll keep Stella as a pet.
Clint probably gave all information he had if "OpSec" and "compartmentalization" ever meant anything to this Kettleburn traitor.
>Use your lance to engrave your seal into her, right here and now.

Pillage, THEN burn. Killing produces the least amount of tangible reward (five more skellies), while corrupting them would at least grant us two more toys... if not two more additions to the Pits.
... Are revenants capable of serving morale duties? Although I'm pretty sure we have enough skellies to restrain Stella and the Leader indefinitely, plus those we've defiled personally wouldn't die from profane damage whereas those we cut down with the blade might die before the conversion went through.

>>6264877
>Use the Blade of the Defiler to turn them into Minions.
As promised.

>Let them die.
Alas, less cute.

>Use the Blade of the Defiler to turn her into a Minion.
Lancework can wait.

>>6264877
>keep Stella
I'm sure there's some more desecration to be done in our future and she's worth keeping for those purposes alone; if we tire of her we can simply sell her to the Pit. I'm sure they'll get a kick out of her. Perhaps possible to have her assist Tiffany in morale officer duties.

>make Clint, Robert and Mikhail minions
They'll replace some of Detlev's associates when Bone Daddy gets around to them.

>leader gets the Minion treatment
We might want to make good on our theat as well. They had such nice reactions to it and it'd be a shame if they didn't think we were a woman of our word.

For some reason, this fight reminded me of that claim I once saw on /tg/ about how level 1 adventuring parties have a 90% attrition rate.

Not everyone gets the luck of a conveniently strung chain of level-appropriate encounters.

>>6264998
is it about d&d ?

>>6264876

>>6264903
+1 to this plan.

>>6264965
Yeah let's not minion or lance Stella. She seems weak enough to keep imprisoned, and from how good using a virgin noblewoman was for ritual magic, a virgin priestess would be even better (provided whatever yuri shit she was clearly getting up to with their leader doesn't count). Also, whatever we do to their leader, let's make Stella watch to assert dominance.

>>6264998
We seem to be good at following the Evil Overlord List so far. Any hanky panky we get up to with beautiful rebels, we have them thoroughly restrained. Our procedures have our minions group of no less than two, sending an alert if they get beaten. And we didn't waste time in sending out our Crack 4th Company when the 2nd company squad got wiped out, instead of sending progressively stronger teams of minions for them to wipe out.

Rolled 2 (1d2)

FYI, I've got people over today, so unlikely to have a post.

>>6264635
I'm going to say yes, the Bone Reaper can be used as an ASC (Armored Skeleton Carrier) with enough space to hold a single company of skeletons in its ribcage. You can ride in it too.
>>6264903
>Are revenants capable of serving morale duties?
The revenants/minions you create by killing someone with Profane Damage aren't undead. They're still alive, you've just fried their higher brain functions and made them a "mindless living servant". They could certainly perform morale duties - Detlev and the men-at-arms have been doing that with Lady Brightsprings in the dungeons - but they wouldn't be as skilled in it as someone who isn't mindless.
>>6264998
They're a level 2 party that you just hit with a CR 9 encounter, more or less, yeah. Strong enough to wipe out a patrol of skelebros with minimal damage, largely thanks to their leader being a high-optimization build with better stats than most adventurers. Not strong enough to survive an ambush by an entire company of skelebros while an equally high-optimization enemy distracts them (remember, you have a freaking badass warhorse companion and ignore the first seven points of damage you take each post).
>>6265102
Yuri doesn't automatically count the way that a man and a woman being lovers and doing this and that would, at least for the purposes of rituals. I'll flip a coin here: 1, they did something that counts, 2 they did not.

So how evil is the Empire, really?

Cause sure, Saligia is an unapologetic (and enthusiastic) sadist, but I imagine that this is one of the traits considered a prerequisite for becoming a Dreadknight, whose job is to put down rebellions in a manner that SENDS A MESSAGE to other would-be secessionists. But I can't picture an entire civilization (a multi-planar one at that!) being able to keep itself together for long solely through state-mandated rapemurder.

To actually run an empire effectively for any appreciable length of time, you need a high level of organization and delegation, reliable internal audits to keep corruption in check, a a solid supply chain not just for your military but for the civilians - to provide relief to areas struck by natural disasters or droughts, for example - and above all else (while also being a consequence of everything else I mentioned), a core population that is largely content, meaning their basic needs are met, their lives are stable and mostly predictable, and generally they're in a good enough situation financially, socially, or what have you, that they'd be loathe to risk all of it by attempting rebellion.

Which to me says that either the demons in charge of the Empire lean a lot more Lawful than they do Evil - which seems to be supported by some things the QM mentioned, such as pension plans for veterans or Saligia being concerned about facing actual consequences if she accidentally rapemurders a loyal imperial citizen.

Or alternately it's all just handwaved as mass mind control that makes everyone just sort of accept that Aunt Jermionie got nabbed in the street by a gaggle of mad cultists and carried off to become the daily sacrifice to the Ravager, cause that's just how things get done in the Empire.

>>6265121
Lawful Evil Empire. You WILL commit GENOCIDE and RAPE, but only after the paperwork is deemed in order. And you can only rape until you hit the rape quota, any subsequent rape after that will result in a fine and twenty hours of community service.

>>6264877
Clint and Stella
>Kill Clint, you'll keep Stella as a pet.
>Write In
If a Minion Mage is even useful I guess go with that. Can he even cast spells? Or does he become something like a mana battery, which might be useful in its own way.

Robert and Mikhail
>Use the Blade of the Defiler to turn them into Minions.

The leader
>Use your lance to engrave your seal into her, right here and now.

>>6265112
Good to know, so the skellie-crawlie is closer to the modern "armored cavalry" in concept instead of being "just" a medium combat/recon platform. Logistics win wars, and armored transports capable of getting our skelebros where we need them to be ASAP sounds like a great force-multiplier, esp. for a rapid-response force that our dreadknight corps apparently are.

The Skeletal Titan would be great later on if we need to break open fortified positions... or conversely, to break massed enemy troops by serving as the "anvil" (along with our skeleton infantry) to the "hammer" that is Saligia and the reaper-carried skeletons.

>>6265112
>Sister Stella.jpg
Oh yeah, we have to have her. What does Clint look like?

>>6265121
> I can't picture an entire civilization (a multi-planar one at that!) being able to keep itself together for long solely through state-mandated rapemurder.

I agree with your assessment. The snippets QM has given us of our character's backstory seem to suggest Aigia's upbringing was edgy, dangerous, and extremely salacious, but also that tehre were many acts of kindness. Clients preferred her mom enthusiast, not screaming or crying, and achieved that by being nice to her daughter. Our biodad looked after his bastard. Skeledad has been nice and polite to our girlfailure bedpet.

it seems like the Empire just is extremely ruthless to its enemies, doesn't look after its underclass especially well, and is very hedonistic and amoral, rather than cacklingly evil day in and dayout to one another like the Drow of Forgotten Realms.

>>6265124
Kek.

>>6265121
I mean, let's take a look at things that we know about the Empire. Looking through the thread:

Prisoners of war can end up being forced into working at military brothels.

Standard operating procedure had them refuse parley (with rebels).

Prostitution/Sex Slavery isn't uncommon, and poorly performing sex slaves end up in "the stables" (sounds like locked in fetters and subject to a rape train)

Their magic system has rituals that benefit from the rape of a virgin.

Standard operating procedure is to avoid harming children.

In at least one case, they turn the corpses of their defeated foes into soldiers.

They also have some sort of social workers to take care of the orphaned children from a rebellion. Because, you know, they slaughtered all the civilians.

Based on Saligia's words, Standard operating procedure for crushing a rebellion is "slaughter the men, rape the women, reeducate/brainwash the children".

Even the deeply chaotic evil Saligia emphasizes following procedure, big point towards a Lawful culture.

There's definitely some religious stuff going on where the Empire believes they are the good guys.

Accidentally killing a citizen doesn't carry too major a punishment, but she will get "chewed out" for breaking the Empire's things and reassigned someplace "boring".

The roads on the area map scream "Lawful Culture" at the very least. The moment you're in Empire territory it becomes straight, neat lines.

"Rapacious conduct is not just expected, but encouraged by that order." So an entire order of Dreadknights has rape and murder as Standard operating procedure.

A slaver is considered "an asset to the empire".

Logistics for Civilians and Military seems decent enough. Her Civvy clothes sound like artificial fibers are fairly standard, showers are expected enough that they make portable military ones, there's a wide variety of food mentioned in the emergency/you have been cut of from supplies rations, and they can make air pressure tanks easily enough that they can deploy them instead of (more easily copied?) gunpowder in medieval settings.

They have pensions for soldiers at the very least.

Seems like whatever it is they have is capable of supporting advanced tech.

My take would be that they are Lawful for the sake of doing more Evil. Probably with a big side of bread, drugs, and circuses to keep the population dazed and content.

>>6265411
Maybe they have so many slaves and own so much territory that the civilian population can afford to be mostly idle above a certain wealth threshold, and have access to multiple empires' worth of material comforts and personal servants?

>>6264877
>>Kill Clint, you'll keep Stella as a pet.
>Use the Blade of the Defiler to turn them into Minions.
>Use your lance to engrave your seal into her, right here and now.

>>6264877
>Kill Stella, you'll keep Clint as a pet.
>Use the Blade of the Defiler to turn them into Minions.
>Use the Blade of the Defiler to turn her into a Minion.

>>6265112
>>6265643
+1

Rolled 19, 14 = 33 (2d20)

Rolling the saves against being minioned for Mikhail and Robert. Clint is getting special treatment due to his status as a mage.

They need to both roll a 15 or higher to resist.

While the enemies have fallen, the 4th Company does not grow complacent. They surround the adventurers with a wall of iron bones and steady steel spears, ready to skewer anyone who moves out of line. Clint raises his pretty, uncalloused hands into the air, trembling beneath the wide sleeves of his blood red robes as his staff clatters uselessly to the ground. Stella slowly pulls herself up from the ground, her short-cropped sky-blue hair a tousled mess. When her eyes lock on the crumpled, bleeding form of her leader - her lover - a look of such delicious despair crosses her face that you almost want your skeletons to finish the job and let that be the last emotion she ever feels.

Alas, a priestess is more use to you alive than dead.

"Hold!" you call to your skeletons before they run the fallen adventurers through. In unison, they all come to a halt, the tips of their spears not an inch away from the unguarded flesh of your new captives. "Bind and gag the mage. Shackle the warrior and the ranger, and bring them here."

With efficiency and precision, the 4th Company follows your orders. They bar the arms of the sorcerer behind his back, binding him not only at the wrist but at the fingers as well, lest he try making somatic components of a spell. A spare horse bit gets used for the gag, forced between his teeth and strapped on tightly behind his head. While one squad deals with him, two more shackle the injured men with irons and drag their near-corpse bodies to you and Stella.

Taking the pair from your skeletons, you roughly throw them at the priestess's feet and command her to, "Heal them."

She stares at you in confusion as you walk away, towards where the leader of these adventurer's lay. The tanned woman's breathing has become ragged, the corruption of your blade spreading through her body like wildfire. The priestess hesitates, still processing your command. You ignore her confusion, pulling the leader up by the roots of her crimson hair and dragging her body over to the rest of the group. Only then does the priestess finally think to ask, "What?"

"Did I stutter? Heal them, you useless priestess," you growl at her. "Or are you incapable of even that much?"

"No, I..." she starts, but one glare from your baleful crimson eyes cuts off any backtalk she might have given. Her hands glow with the warm radiance of life magic, stitching the wounds of her comrades together. "Why are you having me heal them?"

"Because I want them to watch," you tell her. With a smooth motion, you undo the clasps of the spellblade's armor, leaving her body exposed. Stella and Clint both make a horrified sound as you roughly grab one of the twin peaks that their 'Big Sis' so arrogantly displayed with that flashy armor of hers. "I want all of you to watch as I punish her defiance, and understand the consequences of opposing the Empire."

Another motion unclasps your codpiece, and when she sees your intention, Stella can only say: "What the fuck?"

>>6265903
The 4th Company does a splendid job of restraining the adventurers as you make their leader your toy. The men bark uselessly in anger, rage, and dare you say a hint of envy at how you boldly seized what they could never touch. The mage quivers in fear, yet you love the expression on his face. Such pure and honest hatred he directs at you, it's enough to make your maidenly heart flutter with joy. Despite his adoration for the 'Big Sis' you're defiling right before his eyes, he's thinking of you and all the things he'd do to you if he had the chance.

You really hope he's thinking of paying you back in kind.

He'll never get the chance to pull on your hair or push you into the dirt and make you his woman, but if a man doesn't dream of grasping things beyond his means, can you really call him a man? Better than uselessly barking about how they'll get you back for this someday.

Stella's reaction is the best. Watching her lover slowly transform into your plaything as you relentlessly brutalized her broke something inside of the priestess. The tears that had streamed down her face dried up an hour ago, replaced by a dead eyed stare into the distance. Dazed and listless and filled with such a sweet and delicious despair that you just want to drink it all up. Had her lover been a maiden, you would have delighted in splattering Stella's face with her maidensblood, however the spellsword was not nearly as admirable in that regard as Lady Brightspring.

Honestly, that's more understandable than Lady Brightspring having been a maiden of twenty seven years before you took her. The spellsword flaunted her body with that flashy armor of hers, but the arrogance in that act did not come from showing off the goods. Her goods deserved to be flaunted and enjoyed by everyone who saw them. The arrogance came from trusting an armor spell to protect her from attacks that were more about a difference in mass than the ability to break through a barrier.

"P-Please..." the spellsword groans beneath you. "You've made your point, just kill me already... it hurts..."

Ah, she came to, right as your profane gift and the corruption from her wound began to mingle. Black ichor has crawled through the veins of her arcanovascular system, held back from her neck by an annoying piece of metaphysical biology that takes time or effort to bypass. The corruption has spread throughout her body as far as it can without assistance. Which means it's just about time to end things.

Though before you do, you pull her hair and lift her off the ground. Her body's reaction and the flush on her face tells you all that you need to know. "Don't lie to me. It doesn't hurt, it feels good doesn't it?"

"Go to hell," she spits, not wanting to give you the satisfaction. Well, that will change soon enough.

"I was born there," you reply, a cruel grin on your face.

>>6265904
Before she can respond, you throw her to the ground once more. In a flash of black flame, the Blade of the Defiler returns to your hand for some delicate work. You do not run her through with the blade because you do not need to. All that needs to be done is a gentle prick at the nape of her neck, to force open the chakra that protects the mind and soul from corruption seeping in through the body. To taint the essence that flows through it and transform her into something less than what she was, but far more than a mere revenant.

"What... hah..." the woman lets out a deep, steaming breath. One after another the whites of her eyes are dyed black. The mark of your profane gift solidifies on her lower stomach, branding her as your property. "Hah... I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I was wrong. Mistress, Abby feels good. Abby feels so, so good now! Thank you for showing this pleasure to me, for punishing Abigail when she did something wrong!"

She stand up like a marionette, the euphoria of her soul's corruption overriding the pain from everything you did to her. She looks at you with adoring, submissive eyes, and asks, "How can I ever thank you, Mistress?"

You answer Abby by throwing the Blade of the Defiler at her feet. "Simple. Prove your loyalty to me and kill your comrades. Leave the priestess."

Abigail lifts up the blade, measuring the weight in her hands and admiring the black ichor endlessly oozing off of it, only to vanish in the air. When she hears your order, she snaps to attention and cheerily sings, "Kaaaaaaaay~!"

Mikhail stares at her as she approaches him, the mightnight black veins of her corrupted arcanovascular system marring her otherwise flawless tan skin. His eyes are not filled with lust, even though all of her secrets are bared to him. Rather, a delicious fear wafts off of him, coloring his voice as he panics, "You're joking. Big Sis, you're gonna turn that blade right back on that bitch, right?"

"Huh?" the Spellsword stops, the blade raised above her head and poised to strike. "Why would Abby attack her mistress? She makes Abby's heart feel all warm and tingly... and the sex feels even better than that~!"

Those are the last words Mikhail ever hears. Abigail wears a cruel smile that mimics your own as she brings the blade crashing down upon his neck. With a elegant flourish, she hooks the blade around and cleanly lops his head off, sending it flying. Ignoring the blood gushing out and splattering her body, Abigail once again eyes the blade with a childish curiosity, her cheeks puffing out in a pout. "Awww... when Abby got stabbed with this, Abby became Mistress's Little Sis. Why didn't Mikhail become Mistress's... no, Big Sis's little bro?"

Hearing her words, you come to a realization.

>>6265906
An unreadable expression crosses your face. The profane gift you granted her helps to release the inhibitions of those who receive it, letting all sorts of things that people normally keep repressed bubble to the top. In the case of Lady Brightspring, the slower burn you subjected her to first knocked loose her filter, letting her be more harsh with you. The part where she learns to love her future role in the brothels will come later. For Miss Abigail, it seems that you've unlocked an odd personality quirk that she's kept locked up tight.

Though, did she really? Or is she just embracing a desired role of 'Little Sis' that she wanted to play, but couldn't because the rest of her party was unreliable compared to her? Either way, you're not sure how you feel about this.

"Mistress is fine," you tell her, your tone flat as your gaze. "In fact, it is preferred that you refer to me as such. You can also go back to using 'I' now."

Abigail looks back to you with a pout. Does she think that looks cute? You've been examining her things, she's only a year younger than you. A twenty eight year old woman shouldn't make faces like that. She eventually says, "Abby will call Mistress Mistress. But Abby will still call Abby Abby, because it's always been Abby's fondest wish to become the Number One Most Adorable Little Sister in the World!"

Silence hangs in the air as she strikes a pose she no doubt believes is cute.

Robert stares at her. Stella stares at her. Bless his hate filled heart, Clint ignores his fallen 'Big Sis' and is still trying to glare you to death.

"Fine." You don't feel the need to press the issue. The corps did warn you that using the Blade of the Defiler to shortcut the corruption from a Profane Gift could result in your new minions having quirks. You just didn't think this sort of thing was on the table. "Just... continue. Gentle stab through the throat this time, I find that works better. And when you're done with Robert, bring the Blade here. There's something I need to do with it before you jam it into Clint..."

"Kaaaaaaaaay~!" Abigail turns from Mikhail's corpse to Robert with bright eyes and an innocent smile on her face.

Quickly and efficiently, she nicks his carotid artery... and that does the trick. The corruption seeps into his body, and he rises soon enough as a revenant, the light of consciousness gone from his eyes. Abigail cheerily hugs him and spins him around, celebrating that one of her 'little bros' gets to join her in service to their new mistress. It's strange to see how she's so cheery and animated, compared to the listless and unresponsive revenant trying to dance with her. Eventually, she remembers to bring you the sword, so that it can be prepared to raise Clint.

>>6265908
"A bit more effort, and a better result," you mutter to yourself. Taking out a steel dagger, for the Blade of the Defiler would seal the wound it makes with corruption, you open your palm and pour blood onto the tang of the blade. It hisses, and the ichor turns from pitch black to a deep shade of purple. "Now you can go do Clint. Shallow cut, again, you don't want to take his head off like Mikhail's."

"Kaaaaaaaaay~!" Her affirmation is far too cheerful and far too casual for your liking, but she's strong enough that you suppose she warrants it. Stronger than Detlev, for certain, and he's strong enough that you regret not keeping a semblance of consciousness around for him.

As Abigail skips off to slit Clint's throat, you offer your bleeding palm to Stella. She looks at it in confusion, and you can't believe you have to tell her to, "Heal me, Priestess."

She stares at you with dead eyes. "Why should I?"

"Because I could have made you clean us up with your tongue," you tell her without missing a beat. She shudders in disgust, though her cheeks pinken in a way that makes you smirk. "But, if you want a carrot... heal whoever I tell you to, whenever I tell you to from now on, and I'll let you warm Abigail's bed when I'm not having her for the night. You'll be in chastity because I can smell the virgin on you, and that's too valuable to waste. Your movements will be restricted with a special collar. But sleeping in a bedroom with the woman you love is a lot better than the dungeons, right?"

"You're a monster," she states the obvious. Then, she starts healing your bloody palm. "A wretched, beastly monster..."

>>6265910
You level up!
Your HP increases from 39 to 52
Your Essence increase from 4 to 5

Select two attributes to increase by 2 (1 if the attribute is above 16)
>Strength from 21 (+5) to 22 (+6)
>Dexterity from 14 (+2) to 16 (+3)
>Constitution from 17 (+3) to 18 (+4)
>Intelligence from 12 (+1) to 14 (+2)
>Wisdom from 10 (+0) to 12 (+1)
>Charisma from 19 (+4) to 20 (+5)

Select one of the Following Feats
>Dreadknight Commander - You learn a more advanced use of your Dreadknight Insignia. You can summon an additional number of ravens equal to your level, and may speak and see through a single summoned raven at a time. You may also assign a crow to a commander during battle; when an enemy engages a force they command and you are not present on the battlefield, you can add your proficiency modifier to the command roll.
>Create Soulgem - You can create a soulgem from a freshly slain corpse or a creature that you have at your mercy. These soulgems are a useful component in magic rituals, and can be traded or sold for a price dependent on the grade of soulgem created. Creating soulgems from a creature with an intelligence score greater than 3 is an inherently evil act. If extracted from a living being, the creature becomes mindless and they automatically fail any saves against mind control or corruption.
>Well of Corruption - You can create a temporary well of corruption in an area to make your foes more susceptible to effects that corrupt their essence. This well creates an area of darkness in a 20ft radius around it, and within the well creatures have disadvantage on all saves against the effects of your Despoiling Aura, and any other abilities you possess that corrupt essence.
>Dreamspace - You learn to tap into your Dreamscape more naturally, allowing you to create a space with a size of one 10 foot cube per level in the Dreamlands. You can store objects and living things within this space, though living creatures still need to eat and drink if kept there for an extended time.

Loot!
The regulations permit you to take the half the payment of 10000 silver denarii Lord Kettleburn gave the adventurers to harass your forces for yourself.

>>6265912
>Strength from 21 (+5) to 22 (+6)
>Wisdom from 10 (+0) to 12 (+1)
One to boost our murder ability, one to boost our weakest attribute.

>Dreadknight Commander
I really like birds, we should have evil bird minions.

>>6265912
from 39 to 52 is quite the increase from a single lvl up, damn.
>Dexterity from 14 (+2) to 16 (+3)
>Wisdom from 10 (+0) to 12 (+1)
let's pump our skills to 16 and our lowest stat

>Dreadknight Commander - You learn a more advanced use of your Dreadknight Insignia. You can summon an additional number of ravens equal to your level, and may speak and see through a single summoned raven at a time. You may also assign a crow to a commander during battle; when an enemy engages a force they command and you are not present on the battlefield, you can add your proficiency modifier to the command roll.
I was tied between this and the soulgem, but this is better rn.

>>6265912
>Strength from 21 (+5) to 22 (+6)
>Charisma from 19 (+4) to 20 (+5)
One to boost our CQC rolls, another to boost our command rolls plus available number of ravens.

>Dreadknight Commander - You learn a more advanced use of your Dreadknight Insignia. You can summon an additional number of ravens equal to your level, and may speak and see through a single summoned raven at a time. You may also assign a crow to a commander during battle; when an enemy engages a force they command and you are not present on the battlefield, you can add your proficiency modifier to the command roll.
It just upgraded our aerial mail service to include a two-way radio that cannot be tapped or jammed and have no range limitations, 'nuff said.
Too bad we can't use it for aerial reconnaissance given those ravens are point-to-point only.

>>6265903
I'd also just like to point out that Clint is probably the most effeminate man of all time. Most likely because the AI used to generate him is trained to make women predominantly, but hey maybe all the men on this plane are twinks. You never know for certain how a QM's magical realm is going to operate.

>>6265985
yup, he's basically the flattest woman to ever exist in that pic

>>6265903
>Clint (Bound).jpg
Well yeah, we have to peg that twink...

>>6265912
>Charisma from 19 (+4) to 20 (+5)
>Strength from 21 (+5) to 22 (+6)

>Dreadknight Commander

>>6265977
+1 to this plan. Though I expect there very much are ways to "jam" the ravens if the opposition becomes aware of their presence and purpose.

>>6266110
Yeah... probably. But still, there's a big difference in blanking out radio transmission within a five mile radius... versus having to destroy the radio system itself. Plus, we can always get some random skelebro to carry the birb while the actual commanders do their commanding, so...

>anons don't seem to want the Nightmare Torture Cube
well color me surprised

>>6265912
>Dexterity
>Charisma

All the feats have potential, but with how focused we've been on it this campaign:
>Well of Corruption

If we're treating it like the wondrous item vote I'll also say (in order of preference):
>Dreadknight Commander
>Create Soulgem

>>6265903
>that's supposed to be a dude???
Guess MC is into femboys

>>6266168
Soulgem is a nice add-on to have that allows us to gain some extra cash from civvies and peasant levies we (or our army) killed, or to auto-turn captured men into mindless minions with a side bonus of more cash.

Well of corruption MAYBE speed up the conversion process of those we corrupt with our "Lance" or help us invert enchantments of Luminary churches, but is otherwise completely made obsolete by Soulgem.

Dreamcube is largely useless RN given only ten people (soon to become nine once we sell Kat) in total even require logistics to function. May be useful to get a bathtub there though...
If foodstuffs won't spoil inside the cube then it might be more helpful for the logistics but otherwise it can be covered with just one or two wagons (or just carried by skellies) well enough.

>>6265912
>Strength from 21 (+5) to 22 (+6)
>Charisma from 19 (+4) to 20 (+5)

>Create Soulgem - You can create a soulgem from a freshly slain corpse or a creature that you have at your mercy. These soulgems are a useful component in magic rituals, and can be traded or sold for a price dependent on the grade of soulgem created. Creating soulgems from a creature with an intelligence score greater than 3 is an inherently evil act. If extracted from a living being, the creature becomes mindless and they automatically fail any saves against mind control or corruption.

>>6265912
>Wisdom from 10 (+0) to 12 (+1)
>Charisma from 19 (+4) to 20 (+5)
>Dreadknight Commander - You learn a more advanced use of your Dreadknight Insignia. You can summon an additional number of ravens equal to your level, and may speak and see through a single summoned raven at a time. You may also assign a crow to a commander during battle; when an enemy engages a force they command and you are not present on the battlefield, you can add your proficiency modifier to the command roll.

>>6265985
>I'd also just like to point out that Clint is probably the most effeminate man of all time.
>>6265989
>yup, he's basically the flattest woman to ever exist in that pic
>>6266173
>that's supposed to be a dude???
Clint's picture was a case of "Gen a (flat) MILF, call it a man" because while he's not quite a trap in his usual garb, he's definitely feminine enough that if you put him in a dress he'd make a pretty fine woman.
>>6265121
>>6265124
>>6265411
>>6265415
I would say that as a society, the Empire is Lawful Evil while the individuals who control it are Chaotic Evil, using the Lawful Evil means for their Chaotic Evil ends. The structure of Imperial Society is not as rigid as a caste system, but there is a loose social strata where below a certain threshold you don't have a say in society (or even your own life) and above a certain threshold you can do more or less whatever you want (provided it doesn't piss off one of your near-peers). There used to be a racial element to this stratification where Demons were always above Mortals, but that has eroded over the ages: equality is still a distant dream that most don't even care about, but it's what you can do rather than what you are that determines you place in society.

At the top are the 666 Divider Lords, who together rule the Empire.
The Plane Lords each administrate a single plane.
The Realm Lords have authority over areas on a plane around the size of a galaxy (called a Realm).
The Segmentum Lords have authority over a chunk of a Realm; usually there are 666 to a single Realm.
The System Lords have authority over a single star system.
The High Nobility are below system lords, typically having authority over an area of at least a continent, to multiple planets.
The Nobility have have authority over towns, cities, or even country-sized regions.

Note that there can be unlanded people at each rank below the Divider Lords (who technically don't have lands at all). They will typically have prestige and authority on par with someone controlling that large of a region. Also, these can be a bit deceiving; the High Lord who administrates the Capital of Hell is seen as a peer to the Realm Lords, for example. Dormandal is an unlanded System Lord.

Prestige and authority wise, the military is divided in a similar manner, with the Generals who run the forces for each plane answering directly to the Divider Lords. As a low ranking Dreadknight, Saligia has been raised to peerage with the Nobility, making her easily part of the top 1% of the Empire in terms of "shit she can get away with".

Citizens have rights. They are are the upper crust of ordinary people, be they merchants, skilled laborers, academics, or even simple laborers. The Middle Class more or less. They get to vote on matters that require a vote by Hell's law. Saligia's biological dad is a Citizen.

>>6266319
Serfs have rights. These are the bulk of the population. The everyman, the unskilled laborer, the dudes who will take their lunch on the structural supports of the building they're working on. They do not have a say in government matters, which means that outside of things that would violate their Hell-granted rights, they're very much subject to the whims of their local lord. Citizens can become Serfs as punishment for a severe enough crime.

Slaves do not have rights or protections outside what their masters would grant them. There are fewer slaves than serfs in the Empire, though not by all that much. Their population consists of captured enemies of the Empire, serfs who received severe punishment for a crime, and their descendants. There are two classes of slaves: public and private. Public slaves are slaves held by the government, and are generally seen as "serfs with less rights" who do undesirable jobs (such as prostitution, mining, sewer maintenance) and receive room, board, and a modicum of protection. Saligia's mother was a Public Slave of Deep Tartarus, which wasn't the worst place to be a Public Slave.

Personal Slaves tend to either have things much better or far worse than Public Slaves.

On the higher end of things, educated slaves will often find comfortable positions as a noble's trusted right hand, or as tutor to the children of merchants and nobles, which comes with a level of status that most slaves would not receive. Butlers and maids are also nice positions for a Personal Slave to be in, though depending on the master's proclivities they may have to engage in bedroom service (which can be a burden or a job perk depending on the person. Especially since it can lead to a maid or butler getting promoted to Courtesan). Courtesans kept by a noble are also often - but not always - slaves.

On the low end of things, well, some masters tend to be sadistic bastards who make Saligia look tame. It's illegal for them to harm a serf, citizen, or public slave like that, but they can do what they want to their own property. There are also those who use slaves they purchase as materials to make soul gems, revenants, and other things that would require a living, sentient being. And, of course, there are those who use them for human experimentation, "how to brainwash someone better", "can a human survive X, Y, or Z?", "what happens to a mortal if I...?"

Saligia's mother is currently a Private Slave and the favored courtesan of a kindhearted human System Lord who is good friends with Dormandal. She's doing just fine in his care, and Saligia has a sibling on the way.

>>6266231
Well of Corruption is a combat tool, while Soul Gem is post-Combat. Makes it more likely that people you cut down yourself become corrupted Revenants.

>>6265912
>Strength from 21 (+5) to 22 (+6)
>Charisma from 19 (+4) to 20 (+5)

>Create Soulgem - You can create a soulgem from a freshly slain corpse or a creature that you have at your mercy. These soulgems are a useful component in magic rituals, and can be traded or sold for a price dependent on the grade of soulgem created. Creating soulgems from a creature with an intelligence score greater than 3 is an inherently evil act. If extracted from a living being, the creature becomes mindless and they automatically fail any saves against mind control or corruption.
>>6265985
Detlev seems like a burly enough fellow rather than a twink. Clint just seems like a femboy wizard.
>>6266321
So mother is still a slave, and Saligia would have been a slave if Dormandal didn't pick her up? Also, holy smokes at the scaling of the Empire, seems like it's across multiple universes...

>>6266319
>Clint's picture was a case of "Gen a (flat) MILF, call it a man" because while he's not quite a trap in his usual garb, he's definitely feminine enough that if you put him in a dress he'd make a pretty fine woman.
dude has the "femboy with puffy nipples" aura. hope we can peg him soon.

Rolled 33 (1d100)

Rolling a d100 for events as you return to the village, higher is better.

Winner for the votes is:
>Strength to 22
>Charisma to 20
>Dreadknight Commander

Sun begins to set by the time you return the village. The Skeletal Maids set out a fine meal for you and Tiffany in the manor's great hall, with room and food enough for the unexpected addition of your new retainers. Abigail, Clint, and the now-collared Stella join you at the high table while Robert joins the other mindless revenants at the lower table. Clint is a dainty eater, almost excessively neat and well mannered. Abigail devours her food like a boisterous tomboy, ripping meat off the bone with her teeth. Stella stares at the food as if expecting it to be poisoned, and then at the happily eating Tiffany with deep concern.

Dormandal is there as well, his maids providing him an ice cold pitcher of milk. Chocolate milk tonight. Where it disappears to is a mystery.

"So, young master Clint, was it?" Dormandal asks the high Revenant you created with your blood. "Saligia tells me that you're a spellcaster. Pray tell, what branch of magecraft do you specialize in?"

Clint chews his cut of turkey and then swallows, washing it down with a sip of water before speaking. His face is expressionless, his blue eyes glowing intensely against his sclera which have been dyed black. Unlike your other revenants, he possesses a mind, though like a skeleton slowly gains awareness, his personality is yet to fully form. His voice is calm, light, and taciturn when he speaks, "Destruction. Specifically the actualization of wide-area exothermic phenomenon through the application of elementally aligned prana."

At his explanation, Abigail throws an arm around his shoulder. "Don't say it like that, Clinty~! There's way too many big words there, no one's gonna understand that."

Abigail throws a bright grin at Dormandal and says. "He casts fireball, Lord Dormandal. Not just the big boom type fireball, neither. He can make big snakes of fire, little precise rays of fire that burn through just about anything, and even walls of solid fire that'll trap baddies that try to get away. That's why Abby chose him as her team's blaster caster, 'cuz he's real good at it!"

Dormandal takes a sip of his milk, and when he replies, there's a tone of amusement in his voice. "Thank you for the explanation, Little Sis, it was very thorough. It seems you made some fine allies of these troublemakers, Lady Saligia. Though I do wonder why you haven't turned Sister Stella here into a high revenant as well. She looks like she's chafing under the slave collar... surely a happy healer is a more effective healer, no?"

"She's not simply a priestess, Dormandal," you tell him. "She's a maiden priestess."

"Ah, say no more," Dormandal nods when he hears that she's a virgin. "That would be far too useful for certain rituals, yes. I do hope you ensure that she enjoys her part, when the time comes."

>>6266500
You let out a hollow chuckle. "Lady Brightwood only complains after the fact, in the moment she gets into it. Though I suppose, if she wants, there are a few things I can pick up on my next visit to Varten's that would enhance the experience, make it easier for her. Harlot sweets or lemondust... what do you say, Stella? It's your virginity, how much do you want to enjoy losing it?"

Stella stares at you in mild horror. Then at Dormandal, who simply looks contemplative and wistful, likely remembering the days when he had flesh to enjoy. Then to Tiffany, hoping for some solidarity, but your artificer and favorite hug pillow just gives her a shrug. Tiff knows what you're about, and quite willingly chose to share your bed before she received your profane gift.

When she realizes that she's alone here, she takes a deep breath, stands, and bows her head. "Forgive me, Lady Saligia, Lord Dormandal. I appear to have lost my appetite. Excuse me, but I shall retire for the evening."

With those words, she leaves the table and goes upstairs, to the room she shares with Abigail.

You sigh. "I came on too strongly there, didn't I?"

Dormandal nods. "When society tells someone to protect their virginity against temptation, they usually do not respond well to topics of that nature. Why, there was one world I once visited - Empire sworn, no less! - where the men and women were so obsessed with their purity that they only ever did the act through holes in the bedsheet, never once looking upon the form of their lover."

"That's weird," Tiffany says through a mouthful of potatoes. Swallowing them, she gives you a reassuring clap on the shoulder. "And Stella doesn't know what she's missing out on."

"Yeah, Mistress is pretty good at with her lance," Abigail nods vigorously. A sly smile spreads across her face as she leans over to Clint and wraps an arm around his shoulder. Her voice is sweet and playful as she says, "Hey~! You know what Abby just thought of? Clint's a real cutie pie, and it's not like there's a rule against guys enjoying a joooooust~ What do you think, Clint? Do you think you'd have fun if Mistress showed you how she uses her lance~?"

She looks at you with big, puppy-dog eyes, "Provided Mistress isn't opposed to showing him?"

"Well, if you're deciding on bedwarmers for the evening, I think I shall take my leave," Dormandal says, rising from the table. Amusement runs thick in his voice. "Good work today, Saligia. The temple is no longer a blight on the town, and you captured or killed an entire team of adventurers without losing a single skeleton. A splendidly executed ambush, even if the setup was a bit... avante garde."

>>6266501
"Your words are too kind, Lord Dormandal," you say, with a bow of your head. He takes that as an invitation to pat you on the head as he did when you were a child, and it takes every ounce of control you have to avoid reminding him that your head is not for petting. When he teleports away, you turn to Clint and Abigail with a lustful grin upon your face and say, "As for your idea, Abigail, that sounds splendid. Clint, you can have the honor of joining Tiff and I in our bedchambers tonight."

"Can Abby watch?" Abigail asks, again staring at you like a puppy.

"Maybe some other night," you tell her.

"Then Abby will go cheer up Stella~!" In a flash of red and green, Abigail rushes up the stairs after Stella. "She knows all of Stella's weakpoints, so Stella stands no chance against Abby~"

There's no rest for the wicked. Come the morning, set yourself to your next task...
>Looking into Lord Kettleburn and trying to gather information on them.
>Fortifying this position. You know not what allies the rebellion had, just that the Marchers of the Thornlands have not crossed the border. Improving the fortifications on the east side of the village will be important.
>Bringing the outlying farmsteads into line and reminding them of their fealty to the Empire. With violence, if necessary.
>Beginning the process of rooting out any forces that might have regrouped - or otherwise based themselves - in the wooded mountain foothills.
>(Write In)

What question do you ask the coin tonight?
>Is my mother doing well?
>Was the Marquis von Edelweiss providing arms to the rebels in the village?
>Is the Lord Kettleburn working for the Marquis Edelweiss?
>Are there other forces of adventurers that Lord Kettleburn has set out against you?
>(Write In)

>>6266502
>Looking into Lord Kettleburn and trying to gather information on them.
since our military is in top shape, let's focus on the immediate threat to us

>Are there other forces of adventurers that Lord Kettleburn has set out against you?

>>6266502
>"As for your idea, Abigail, that sounds splendid. Clint, you can have the honor of joining Tiff and I in our bedchambers tonight."
femdombros, we eating good tonight

>>6266502
>Bringing the outlying farmsteads into line and reminding them of their fealty to the Empire. With violence, if necessary.
Let's not give rebel forces anywhere else to hide and build resources.
>Are there other forces of adventurers that Lord Kettleburn has set out against you?
Minus the "of adventurers" bit; it could blind us to other forces he has prepared.

>>6266552
>Minus the "of adventurers" bit; it could blind us to other forces he has prepared.
I say we keep the adventurer specification since they're more mobile and will be a pain in the ass faster than a regular army.

>>6266502
>>6266540
>>6266564
Supporting

>>6266502
>>Fortifying this position. You know not what allies the rebellion had, just that the Marchers of the Thornlands have not crossed the border. Improving the fortifications on the east side of the village will be important.
>Is the Lord Kettleburn working for the Marquis Edelweiss?

>>6266502
>Fortifying this position. You know not what allies the rebellion had, just that the Marchers of the Thornlands have not crossed the border. Improving the fortifications on the east side of the village will be important.
>Are there other forces of adventurers that Lord Kettleburn has set out against you?

>>6266502
>Bringing the outlying farmsteads into line and reminding them of their fealty to the Empire. With violence, if necessary.

>Are there other forces of adventurers that Lord Kettleburn has set out against you?

Lmao, even men are not safe from joining the harem if they're cute enough.
>>6266502
>Bringing the outlying farmsteads into line and reminding them of their fealty to the Empire. With violence, if necessary.

>Are there other forces of adventurers that Lord Kettleburn has set out against you?

>>6266502
>Bringing the outlying farmsteads into line and reminding them of their fealty to the Empire. With violence, if necessary.
Expand our influence, solidify our basis for rule and our supply chains, and get to know the area.

>Are there other forces of adventurers that Lord Kettleburn has set out against you?
It doesn't hurt to be prepared.

You have an absolutely wonderful evening with Tiff and Clint.

Where Tiff is eager and exuberant, Clint is slow to warm up and ever so taciturn even when he gets hot and bothered. Both of them spoil you absolutely rotten until the night's activities wear the three of you down. Tiff has to take the lead, showing the inexperienced young man what to do and how to do it, holding his hand through every new experience. To you, though, the most delicious part comes from seeing the face of a man who glared at you with such hatred not a handful of hours ago flush with pleasure as you make him your woman.

"It's a good thing we didn't make a sandwich of him last night," you say once morning comes.

Tiff appears to have turned Clint into her doll. The young man doesn't seem to mind, sitting infront of a mirror with little expression beyond a slight happy curve to his lips and a bit of color in his cheeks as Tiff brushes his hair. Both are nude, and both make for a wonderful sight in the morning. Tiff turns her eyes to you, but doesn't stop dolling up the young man. "I mean, I swore my loyalty to you. Letting someone else in down there feels like it would be breaking that, and I'm no oathbreaker. Besides which, compared to you, he's a little... small..."

Is that a pout you see on Clint's face? If it is, it's the smallest ghost of a pout. Still, he's your mage now, so you feel the need to defend his honor. "He has nothing to be ashamed of there. Comparing his to mine is unfair, for he grew his himself while my lance is a gift from the Ravager whose sole purpose is to inflict humiliation, despair, and a hell of pleasure upon the enemies of the Empire."

As you take a seat behind Tiff and start brushing her hair, she says, "Well in my opinion it's more like heaven~"

"You're not an enemy of the Empire, my dear Tiffany~" you remind her. True, the difference between a 'hell of pleasure' and a 'heaven of pleasure' is how much the person wants to experience it, but that's neither here nor there. "Neither is dear Clint, not anymore. He's a loyal servant, and an asset to the Empire now. So is his virginity, so we need to make sure we protect it throughout our nightly activities."

Clint's head cocks to one side in confusion. His voice is flat and monotone as he says, "But I gave Mistress Saligia my virginity last night. It was nice."

"Yeah, I think that ship sailed," Tiff says with a chuckle. "You really got into it with him, Sally. I almost got jealous~"

"Well, I certainly made him my woman," you say, and both of them nod in agreement. "But what we got up to doesn't count for guys. Well, maybe it counts in some ways that matter, but for the purpose of magic rituals and powers? Our dear Clint hasn't put his magical staff to use on any maidens just yet... and if I have my way, he won't be using it on anyone until he's thirty at the very least."

Another small pout crosses Clint's face. "But that's six years from now, Mistress Saligia..."

>>6267101
You face twists into an eye-to-eye smile filled with joy and lust in equal measure, the sort of smile that most men would be thrilled to see upon their lover. Well, if it didn't come with a spicy dash of sadism behind it. Not the usual, malicious sadism you wear when cutting down your foes, but the sadism of a woman who loves seeing her man squirm before she takes care of him gently. "I know, and it will be really hard to hold out on your own. Luckily, we have special tools that will help you avoid temptation~"

Clint's face remains expressionless as he tilts his head and asks, "What do you mean by 'tools'?"

Your attempts to tame the wild tangle of Tiff's hair proving futile, you reach into your things and withdraw a small metallic device whose purpose isn't immediately clear. Both Clint and Tiff give it a curious look as you step around them with the device in hand. When you kneel down and put it on Clint, you can see something awaken in Tiff's eyes, while Clint still seems confused. "This will make sure that you're a good boy for the next six years~"

"Oh, that makes sense." The calm and taciturn voice in which he accepts the device - something you, and most men, would complain about - is adorable. "What will happen once I'm thirty?"

"Yeah, I'm kind of confused about that, too..." Tiff admits. Her eyes are still locked on the device, her face flushed as red as the fringes of her blonde hair as her imagination runs wild. "I know that taking someone's virginity can be a powerful magical catalyst, that's kinda why I threw mine away when I was younger. Didn't want to be the virgin who gets kidnapped for an evil wizard's profane ritual, you know?"

You stare at her blankly. Clint joins you, though his look is of innocent confusion as he asks, "But aren't you the lover of an evil knight who has received her profane gift?"

"This and that are two entirely different things," she replies, making a big X with her arms. "The point is... if you have a ritual in mind, why wait until he's thirty? And if there's no ritual you want to use his virginity for, then what's the point of putting that thing on him? I mean, it's kinda hot and all, but..."

"I guess it's not that well known outside the Empire..." you say with a shake of your head. Putting on your teaching voice, you explain one of the many obscura that Dormandal taught you in your youth. "It began as an urban legend on the Cradle, thousands of years before the Dies Irae. 'If a man reaches thirty years old without losing his virginity, he becomes a wizard.' After the Dies Irae, when magic began to flow through the Material Planes more freely, that urban legend became real. In fact, the very first mortal spellcasters were men who did not know the touch of a woman until their mid thirties and forties, if they knew a woman's touch at all."

"In the modern day, a male mage who remains untouched down there until they're 30 will see an immense swell of power!" you finish.

>>6267102
Tiff and Clint share a look with one another and shake their heads. Tiff is the one brave enough to speak first and say: "That sounds made up, Sally."

"It's not," you say with absolute certainty. Dormandal himself used such tools to maintain his discipline for the first thirty years of his life, so that his arcane might would swell tremendously. Well, he never spoke of using such tools, but he did speak of not having any luck with women until his 30s, which is patently impossible. You never knew him before he shed his flesh, but you're quite certain that any woman who did not throw herself at your father figure while he still walked amongst the living was a tasteless shrew who did not understand how great a man he was. You can read between the lines. "I don't know the exact mechanism, but I assume the buildup of orgone within the arcanovascular system-"

"Mistress Saligia, it's fine," Clint says. His expression is blank save for a small upcurve on his lips, and an odd light in his eye that almost seems pitying. He places a hand upon your shoulder and says. "If this sort of thing makes you happy, then I'm happy as well. You don't need to make up a reason for it."

But you're not...! you almost say, but the pitying looks on their faces are too much.

Is this... embassment that you're feeling!? Whatever it is, you don't like it[/i[, and yet you can't find it in yourself to speak up and reprimand them for making you feel it, either.

=================

After that moment passes, you all get dressed for the morning. Tiff throws on her usual working shirt and overalls far faster than you can don your harness. She doesn't bother with any makeup for herself, and her hair looks neater than usual thanks to your effort, but it's not as meticulously groomed as your perfectly straight blonde hair by any means. In fact, it's still rather messy.

You manifest the Tainted Bulwark in its usual form, a skintight black bodysuit of woven tendrils that pulse with life, white veins running through the living relic's arcanovascular system just as black veins run through your own. It supports your bosom and protects your crotch well enough that you do not bother putting undergarments over it. Over the second skin, you don a white steelsilk tunic trimmed with red, and a set of durable black britches of the same material. Your harness goes over those, maille first and then the plate.

While you get into your harness, Tiff plays dress up doll with Clint. She found some clothes that once belonged to Lady Brightspring and has dressed the young man up with him.

>>6267103
The gown she puts him in has a shoulderless blouse of gold silk that drapes down over the curve of his hips and hangs down at his knees in the back. In the front, the cloth rises up all the way to the tie-off at his waist. Sewn onto the breast among the frills that circle his torso beneath the shoulders is a great blue rose of cloth that would have hidden any cleavage that would have shown had he a nice pair of tits. The blue of the rose matches his eyes, and the long flowing skirt worn beneath the blouse.

"I look cute," he deadpans upon seeing his reflection in the mirror. He tilts his head towards Tiff and asks, "Are men supposed to look cute?"

"Yes," Tiffany declares, a look of excitement on her face. "Even if the village boys complained about it when I braided their hair and dressed them up, this is peak male performance! Even burly men should dress cutely like this. If they did, the world would be at peace!"

"Hmmm, I don't know about that," you say. Some of your previously flings were pretty burly guys, and you don't think it would have been as fun if they were dolled up the way Tiff dolled up Clint here. Yeah, if you want to get pinned down and taken by someone, you'd prefer that fellow be big and muscular. That said, the dress definitely suits Clint. "Cute men and burly men both have their place in the world, and you shouldn't try to force a burly man to be cute any more than you should try to force a cute man to be burly. That said, you're definitely cute, Clint. I like it."

"Well if Mistress Saligia says so, then it must be a good thing," Clint says, his voice still monotone and without emotion. "What's the plan for today?"

"Tiff will be working with Dormandal to complete the wards on the town," you say. Tiff nods; based on the reports, the two of them are a little less than halfway through warding the town against invaders. "As for myself, I'll be taking some forces with me to go remind the farmsteads in these parts that their allegiance is owed to the Empire. Gently if I can, though if I can't..."

>>6267103
The unspoken promise of violence hangs in the air, but neither Clint nor Tiff complain about it. "As for you, Clint..."

What will Clint do?
>Join you on the mission to remind the farmers of who they owe allegiance to.
>Assist Dormandal and Tiff with the wards.
>Assist the Skeletons with protecting the town.
>Assist the Skeletons with patrolling the forest.
>(Write In)

What will Abigail do?
>Join you on the mission to remind the farmers of who they owe allegiance to.
>Keep Stella entertained for the day; idle hands are the Pretenders' tools and all that.
>Assist the Skeletons with protecting the town.
>Assist the Skeletons with patrolling the forest.
>(Write In)

What will you do with Stella?
>Allow her free roam of the town.
>Keep her wanderings within the Manor grounds.
>Allow her to visit the desecrated temple under supervision.
>Lock her in the dungeon across from Lady Brightspring.
>(Write In)

Lord Kettleburn has sent additional adventurers to hunt your forces in the wild according to your coin. What forces do you bring with you to pacify the locals?
>A squad from 4th Company
>The Revenants
>Two squads from 4th Company
>The 4th Company
>The 4th Company and the Revenants
>(Write in)

>>6267102
>"This will make sure that you're a good boy for the next six years~"
I get doing it for the sadism, but isn't Clint our thrall now ? he's not gonna fuck anyone unless we say so.
>>6267106
>Assist Dormandal and Tiff with the wards.
he's a mage, so chop chop

>Assist the Skeletons with patrolling the forest.

>Allow her to visit the desecrated temple under supervision.

>The Revenants
no need to use up the skellies for this

>>6267106
>Assist Dormandal and Tiff with the wards
>>Join you on the mission to remind the farmers of who they owe allegiance to
>Lock her in the dungeon across from Lady Brightspring
>A squad from 4th Company
>>The Revenants

>>6267106
>Assist the Skeletons with protecting the town.
>Assist the Skeletons with patrolling the forest.
>Allow her to visit the desecrated temple under supervision.
>Two squads from 4th Company

>>6267106
Clint:
>Assist Dormandal and Tiff with the wards.
Magi be mage'ing

Abby and Stella:
>Keep Stella entertained for the day; idle hands are the Pretenders' tools and all that.
>Allow her to visit the desecrated temple under supervision.
Have Abby "play" with Stella in the descrated temple in particular.

Forces:
>The 4th Company and the Revenants
Remember to give them a Raven.

>>6267173
Clint was made into a thrall with (at least a semblance of) free will; plus this is to make sure nobody else beats us to the chase or sabotages our plan for him.

>>6267106
>Assist Dormandal and Tiff with the wards.
>Assist the Skeletons with patrolling the forest.
>Lock her in the dungeon across from Lady Brightspring.
>Two squads from 4th Company

>>6267173
>I get doing it for the sadism, but isn't Clint our thrall now ? he's not gonna fuck anyone unless we say so.
>>6267299
>Clint was made into a thrall with (at least a semblance of) free will; plus this is to make sure nobody else beats us to the chase or sabotages our plan for him.
It's one part preventing accidents from occurring during nightly activities, one part preventing sabotage from any rivals who are in the know about these things, and one part Saligia's fetish. In terms of his free will, his is not a mindless creature like Detlev and the other lesser Revenants, but he is bound to your will through your blood and cannot oppose you.

>>6267299
+1 to this plan

>>6267483
I see. Since the chastity thing only applies to penis for men, he can still use a strap-on to fuck us and tiff. No biggie.

Rolled 37 (1d100)

Rolling for any encounters during the first tour of the farmsteads.

You assemble two squads from the 4th Company and the Revenants to accompany you on your journey across the outlying farmsteads that surround Brightsprings and fill the vale with a sea of wheat and barley. Clint remains behind with Dormandal and Tiff to assist with the wards. While he specializes in destructive magics, he can at least act as a convenient mana battery while learning what he can from them. He should be capable of that much, as a High Revenant possessing sapience.

Abigail stays behind as well. Her boisterous and easygoing attitude is not the face that you want to present to the peasantry. With her ferocity and playfulness, she's best left behind to assist the skeletons with their forest patrols and keeping an eye on Stella when she wants to go out and about.

You've permitted Stella to visit the Temple as she pleases, as long as she has Abigail escorting her. The collar about her neck will punish her if she tries to push what you've allowed her too far. Nominally, this is to allow her the opportunity to pray, but you doubt she'll get much prayer in with Abigail around.

After all, with her inhibitions unshackled by your Profane Gift, Abigail has been quite forward with Stella.

In public, Abigail openly gropes Stella like a mobster might keep his hands on one of his kept women. You can only imagine what the two of them will get up to in the privacy of temple. Well, whatever it is, it won't go too far thanks to the chastity belt that you've used to lock away Abigail's maidenhood. If only you had one of the models that stimulated the wearer that your friend Varten sells. That would have made an entertaining spectacle of the priestess.

"Alas, that will have to do," you mutter to yourself. Abigail escorting Stella should be stimulation enough, the priestess already wears a delightful expression whenever her lover's hands get too brazen. Calling your pale horse into existence from the Dream Realm, you mount up. "Alright, men, we're moving out. Keep an eye open on the road. Lord Kettleburn has hired mercenaries in the hopes of catching us off guard, let's be sure to turn them into precious materials for Lord Dormandal if they try!"

Your troops move down the road in a wedge formation.

The revenants lead the formation with the heavily armored Detlev as the tip of the spear, his maul resting upon his shoulders for the march. Three revenants follow him on each side, and then behind them are the two squads of skeletons you chose to bring with you. The formation fills the road, and you ride a the center upon your pale horse. A bone squire recently raised by Dormandal follows behind you, acting as your standard bearer.

The long pennant of the Dreadknights flutters in the wind, your personal banner hanging beneath it and announcing your presence to all the world. For a task such as this, you do not need to move in stealth. Announcing your presence to the peasantry and demanding fealty is the whole purpose, after all.

>>6267607
Most are happy to kneel when you pass through the little thorpes that dot the land surrounding Brightsprings.

These people are the salt of the earth, after all. Simple folk, men and women raised to fear and respect the masters of Hell and the mighty retainers who have received their blessings and act with their authority. Citizens of the Empire without a rebellious thought in their soul, who held the soft townsfolk who chose to raise their swords against their rightful rulers in disdain. How much of that was genuine, and how much of that was born of a fear that you would do unto them what was done to the town, it doesn't matter.

You have their obedience. In some cases, you have their adoration. You shake hands with the village elders, you pat the heads of children, you prove to them that where the Dreadknights can bring a gauntleted fist down to crush the enemies of the Empire, they can also grant a velvet touch to their friends. Charm is not something that comes naturally to you, but you're a comely enough woman that it doesn't need to. Even when your cruelty slips out, it gets brushed beneath your beauty.

Plus, well, you want to set a good example for the children, so you keep on your best behavior. You do not need veiled threats to old men who are happy to acknowledge your authority. You can restrain your language from being too vulgar. Refusing the advances of comely young men and women eager to show a beautiful lady knight their village's hospitality takes all of your restraint, but you endure it.

On your first day alone you receive nearly a dozen crowns of woven flowers. A hundred requests for tales of your adventures from rapscallions who dream of running of to join the Squire Corps.

One such tale you weave from a high table, where the chief of the Goldgrain Hamlet - a blacksmith by the name of Roger - feted you in celebration of your defeat of 'those damned foreign heretics' at Brightsprings. He laid your praises on a bit thick, but the sign of the Industrialist hangs high over his hearth, and the shrine at the center of his hamlet carries none of that rotten stench of divinity. Your arrival became an excuse for celebration, wine and ale flowing freely and food piling up high.

"-and so we finally reached the heart of the cult's lair," you tell the crowd one of the nicer tales of your days as a Squire. "A shrine tangled amidst the roots of a great date-palm tree, long dead to the ravages of the Black Goat's Blight. Its sap oozed out from the roots in the sickly blackened emerald that is the color of oblivion. Before the shrine stood the mastermind behind it all, a heretical sorceress whose beliefs and praxis made even the slaves of the Pretenders seem innocent in the eyes of the Divider Lords."

"What could be worse than worshipping the Pretenders to G-d's throne?" one of the adults asks, confused and treading lightly about the topic of heresies worse than heresies.

>>6267608
"The blighted, the leaf-eaters, and those who would burn the world's branches to ash," you tell them. The crowd becomes hushed, knowing not of the horrors that you speak of. "The Divider Lords wish to keep the Throne empty, reserved for the one true G-d who has yet to appear in our world. The Pretenders seek to usurp it, to name themselves Lord over a creation they had no hand in making. This cult worshipped beasts that never were, who seek nothing but oblivion and death."

"And did you get the Bad Guys, Lady Clearwater?" a child asks.

"We did. We punished them in the name of the Divider Lords," you assure the child and ruffle his hair. "Though before we could, we had to face a great foe, for we were too late to save all of their captives. The mastermind, in mad desperation, made a sacrifice of a young maiden to call forth one of the Black Goat's thousand young into the world. It possessed the rotting tree from the inside, a hundred slavering maws opening from its bark as the dead branches became sickly, emerald-black tendrils."

You happily puff out your chest with pride. "I cut six of those tendrils down with my own blade, defending our spellcasters as they chanted a spell of banishment. A great feat for a young squire facing down a beast of oblivion, I'll have you know. It was my teacher, Sir Arthur Morningstar, who finally brought the beast low and allowed our mages to send it back from the nothingness whence it came. He fought with all the ferocity of the Ravager Himself, and with a mighty blow from his reliquary blade - the Moonlit Darksword - he cleaved the beast near in two!"

You spare them the details of what came after. Sir Arthur spared the heretical sorceress no indignity, and marched her naked and in chains back to the heart of Dis to await an execution that never came. Apparently the wife of some System Lord took a fancy to the sorceress's body, so her soul was extracted and her arcanovascular system purified of Oblivion's taint, allowing the woman to place her own soul within it.

If you remember it correctly, the soulstone should have been allocated to one of the anima reactor plants in Dis. She was a powerful enough sorceress that it should still be helping to keep the lights on over there.

Roger Smith happily lends you a room for the night, which you share with Detlev and your bone squire. The rest of your forces camp just outside the hamlet, though without fortifications dug in and only a few small tents assembled you can hardly call it a camp. Still, they didn't need the fortification, the night passes without incident and you're on your way again in the morning.

It's a few miles out from the Goldgrain Hamlet that you encounter trouble.

>>6267609
A man in light armor naps beneath a tree, the brim of his hat tilted to keep the sun out of his eyes. His black hair is cropped short and neat, and the stubble of a beard runs along his chin. A longsword rests against his shoulder, its scabbard worn but its pommel gleaming with care, the scent of magic wafting off it like a spiced apple pie. While he does not pass beneath your notice, you do not pay him all that much mind until he speaks.

"Ah, Miss Dreadknight, I should warn you..." he drawls, not standing up from his relaxed position. "Hum, how should I put it... not many people get to choose the place they die, but if you keep going down that road as you are, you'll be making that choice? Yeah, that seems like the right thing to say..."

"Is that a threat?" your voice is ice cold at the man's words.

"No? No... yeah, no, I don't threaten pretty ladies," he thinks aloud for a moment before deciding that no, it's apparently not meant to be a threat. You still do not release your hand from its grip upon the Blade of the Defiler. "Especially ones that can kick my ass. Just thought you could use the warning. See, this boring guy put a bounty of 100,000 denarii on your head, and now a bunch of lowlifes have taken over the next hamlet down the road to catch you in an ambush."

Your eyes narrow as you appraise the man. He seems awfully relaxed for someone talking to a Dreadknight with a retinue as large as yours, which means that he's probably pretty strong. "And you know this, how?"

"Cuz I was interested enough in fighting a strong opponent that I decided to hear the boring guy out," he admits to talking with a man you suspect to be Lord Kettleburn without breaking a beat. "The way those lowlifes he called in are going about it didn't sit right with me, though. Taking hostages, locking a bunch of people in a warehouse, putting crossbowmen in the windows of every house is a way to fight a stronger opponent I guess, but that sort of thing is what makes them a bunch of lowlifes. Mama didn't raise me to fight dirty like that."

"Oh?" you stare at the swordsman for a moment. That would be how you defended a town without walls, to be sure, though the people would be in the most easily fortified building rather than locked in a warehouse. "And how would you go about trying to kill me, if you wanted to claim that 100,000 denarii bounty from Lord Kettleburn?"

"Oh, you know the boring fellow's name, that great. Means I don't have to tell you," The man finally rises, stretching himself out. Turning to you, a bloodlust shines in his eyes and his sword rattles in its scabbard. "If I wanted to kill you, I'd approach you on the road and ask you to fight one on one. None of those skeletons, corrupted fellows, or any of those lowlifes taking part, just you and me."

You look at him and say, "You know I can't accept such an offer. I'm here on business, you see, and so if I find any heretics I need to kill, I'm obliged to use every tool available."

>>6267610
"Yeah, that's what I figured," the man says, looking a bit disappointed. He starts walking down the road you came up, waving back at you. "Not like I gave a rat's ass about the silver. If you're only up to fighting business-like, then it ain't worth it. I'm gonna head to the Pit of Beleth for a bit, maybe see if there's any fights worth having in the arena. If you don't get yourself killed rooting out them lowlifes, maybe I'll see you there? Name's Quinn, by-the-by. Quinn Longstrider."
>Give him your name in return.
>Do not give him your name.

Lord Kettleburn's irregulars have attacked a hamlet filled with Imperial Citizens. What's your strategy for taking it back?
>Attack in force and burn it to the ground.
>Send Detlev in as the "Dreadknight" to bait the ambush, and counter ambush with your skeletons.
>Ride in alone to bait the ambush. The rest of your forces will wait to counter the ambush.
>Sneak in and free the captives, arm them as best as you can, and get their help taking the Hamlet back.
>Wait until night falls and raid them in the dark, where you and your men will have a visibility advantage.
>(Write In)

>>6267611
>Do not give him your name
Walls and ears and stuff, but promise we'll tell him later when we meet him in the Pits.
... that, or tell him our name is Eisenmaul.

Attack Plan:
>Wait until night falls and raid them in the dark, where you and your men will have a visibility advantage.
>Send Detlev in as the "Dreadknight" to bait the ambush, and counter ambush with your skeletons.
Have Detlev dressed in feminine clothing and escorted by both revenants (Robert plus the two men-at-arms) and a squad of skeletons, and give both Detlev and the ambushing 4th Company Commander a raven. Speak through Detlev's raven and make grandiose gestures.
>Sneak in and free the captives, arm them as best as you can, and get their help taking the Hamlet back.
Have Abby and Clint go along with us for the sneakies, dress all three in innocuous clothing, and attack only after the 4th Company have engaged the enemy.

Maximize misdirection.

>>6267611
>Give him your name in return.

>Send Detlev in as the "Dreadknight" to bait the ambush, and counter ambush with your skeletons.

>>6267611
>Do not give him your name
I like >>6267689 's idea of telling him in the Pit.

>Wait until night falls
>bait ambush ourselves
If we trust any of our revenants or boney bois to free and evacuate/arm the captives do that in the midst if the chaos.

>>6267611
>>6267767
Skeletons can't speak human.
... right, are mindless minions capable of human speech? Although I'm pretty sure they're less than capable of comforting scared civvies either way.

>>6267885
Just need gestures to get them moving in the right direction; battle can be loud so there's no guarantee they'd be able to hear even if any of them could speak. It should be fairly obvious what's going on if one sneaks into the warehouse, breaks any binds, and ushers them out through the back.

Suggested it because it felt like these guys would set the warehouse on fire with everyone inside if given the chance.

>>6267689
Remember, we left Abby and Clint back home to work on other stuff (molesting the priestess, forest patrols, and wards). Otherwise, agree with this plan.

>>6267611
>>Give him your name in return.
>Wait until night falls and raid them in the dark, where you and your men will have a visibility advantage.

Giving everyone a head's up that I only got a few hours of sleep last night and will be taking a break today to catch up on it.

Vote will remain open until 5PM EST tomorrow

>>6267611
>Give him your name in return.
>Attack in force and burn it to the ground.
SHOW OF FORCE

>>6268082
waiting warmly

>>6267611
>>6267967
... wait how far away are Clint and Abby from us, and how far away is the hamlet from us?

But if Clint and Abby aren't available... we can still bring Robert along with us.

Now... given it'd be after nightfal... perhaps we should also ask the coin if information about the warehouse is accurate or if the warehouse is filled with ambush.

>>6268112
Those are (at least presumed to be) loyal subjects, good luck telling the higher-ups that you burnt a hamlet to the ground and killed a bunch of loyal citizens/serfs just to defeat an ambush.

>>6268142
Clint and Abby are back at the village, roughly a day's travel away from your current position.

You spent a day riding to Goldgrain Hamlet, stopping a few times at individual farmsteads to mostly warm (and occasionally fearful but respectful) greetings. You spent the night feasting with a staunch loyalist and his people.

You then spent a few hours of much the same this morning, riding along and stopping at a few individual places along the way. A bit more fear than warm waves, but respect none-the-less.

With how many stops made, roughly a day if you ride at a trot.
>>6267885
The Minions/Revenants you corrupted can speak the common tongue, but don't really think beyond "obey Saligia" and "can answer simple questions".

The Bone Boys can speak the tongue of the dead in much the same way, with the Skeletal Commanders having a bit more personality/are growing into being less mindless.

>>6268155
So, I'm assuming that we haven't used the coin yet last night? If no then we REALLY need to ask the coin if that Quinn guy is being truthful.

Wound up having to work late today. Vote's extended to 5 PM tomorrow if people still want to, gonna try to be out earlier to write.

>>6268235
Smart play.

>>6266231
FUCK logistics
a torture chamber full of literally any horrors our victims can dream of? how the fuck is that not useful?!?

>>6268654
OP ?

>>6269206
Remember how I said I was going to try to be out earlier? Well, I got in earlier... Worked even later today, yaaaaaaay.

I'll put a vote up:
>Use the coin to verify Quinn's Statements
>Do not use the coin to verify Quinn's Statements.

>>6269255
>Use the coin to verify Quinn's Statements
you mean his affirmation about an ambush ? sure

>>6269255
>>Use the coin to verify Quinn's Statements

>>6269255
>Use the coin to verify Quinn's Statements

For all I know he might as well be an agent working for those hateful pretenders, gave us the name of someone he wanted us to make an enemy of, and was actively leading us to our doom; word the question as "Was the guy I met under the tree and gave me the information on the ambush truthful/accurate about the ambush" so that we can be focused on the situation in Goldgrain.

>>6268696
It's Sligia's dreamspace, not our victims'. If any biological horrors are summoned there we'll have to feed those horrors as well.

That said... can the dreamcube be used to transport our bony bois? They aren't really "objects" or "living things" so...

(Also, imagine dropping a 10×10×10ft cube of skellie bois out of nowhere; first you see a lone dreadknight with maybe two or three revenant minions, then BAM you're suddenly facing down a full skeletal platoon, and two minutes later you're facing a skellie-crawlie with even more skellies inside...)

>>6269319
>turning Saliga into a troop carrier
We might have to remember that the next time it's time to choose a feat. Much better arguement than torture box

>>6269442
Don't count your chickens before they hatch, RAW the dreamcube can only carry "objects" and "living creatures", whereas our skeletons are "undead creatures".

... on a second thought LE CUBE might be better at briefly carrying our living minions instead of our undead ones - load them up at a rendezvous point, get somewhere quick with our Pale Horse, then unload. Our own Pale Horse is fully amphibious and does not tire; theirs aren't.

>>6269273
>>6269296
>>6269319
The coin lands head's up, telling you that Quinn was being dreadfully earnest in his conversation with you. If nothing else, he believes that they're a bunch of boring people who set up an ambush for you on Kettleburn's orders.

>>6269319
>It's Sligia's dreamspace, not our victims'. If any biological horrors are summoned there we'll have to feed those horrors as well.
Creations of the dreamspace would not need to eat, and would be tricky to bring into the real world (doable, you'd just have to get more feats). They would likely be "partially real" illusion effects when you do bring them into the world (which can get silly and eventually result in them being more real with the right set up).

All that said, you could feed them in the dream world.
>>6269319
>That said... can the dreamcube be used to transport our bony bois? They aren't really "objects" or "living things" so...
>>6269442
>Don't count your chickens before they hatch, RAW the dreamcube can only carry "objects" and "living things", whereas our skeletons are "undead creatures".
For the purposes of LE CUBE, Skeletons and other Undead Creatures are considered objects.

>>6269567
>Skeletons and other Undead Creatures are considered objects.
So we CAN go the troop carrier route. Neat

>>6269721
>put box of infinite skeletons in ass
>sneak in to enemy encampment
>fart out seven battalions of skeletons right ontop of unprepared enemy
>dab vigorously while on a mountain made of the corpses of our enemies
The slaves of Lawful Good will never recover from this humiliation.

Rolled 9, 10, 12 = 31 (3d20)

Winning vote: Detlev baits the ambush during a night raid while you sneak in and free the captives.

Rolling Combat Rolls. First is your [Command] Roll for the 4th Company squads, rolled at +4. Next two dice are your [Stealth] Roll, rolled at +2.

You are baiting an ambush that you and your forces are aware of. The disadvantage on the [Command] roll from the ambush has been negated.

Your living armor easily responds to the movements of your body, negating the disadvantage heavy armor would normally impose upon [Stealth] rolls.

You are active on the battlefield. Your [Command] roll gains no benefit from the use of Dreadknight Commander. You still have eyes and ears to know how things are going for them.

Detlev is a believable "dummy" Dreadknight, clad in full harness. You gain advantage on your [Stealth] roll.

There are no necromancers in the hamlet to contest control of your forces. (No Penalty)

There are no clerics that can turn undead.

They have no holy water that can affect Undead or Revenants. (No Penalty)

Command Roll Results
Nat 1 - One of them has a coin and counter-ambushes the counter ambush. Total Skeleton Defeat.
DC 6 - Opposition forces your men back. 1d3-1 skeletons and 1d3-1 revenants perish. 15% chance to lose Detlev.
DC 10 - Opposition takes heavy losses forcing your men back. 1d2-1 skeletons and 1d2-1 revenants perish.
DC 15 - Opposition forces are defeated without major casualties, but survivors are able to retreat.
DC 20 - Total. Skeleton. Victory. All enemy forces defeated in the night raid.

Attack Roll Results
Below 5 - One of them has a coin and prepared for your infiltration, and you are left unable to act. Roll a second [Command] roll, as you are no longer active on the battlefield.
DC 5 - Your actions alert them before you free the prisoners, in such a way that you don't have time to do anything but react. Roll a [Combat] roll to fight your way out.
DC 10 - Your actions alert them before you free the prisoners, but you have time to figure out an approach.
DC 15 - Your actions alert them after you free the prisoners. They'll need to fight their way out, but that was always the plan, wasn't it? Roll a [Command] roll to rally them for combat.
DC 20 - They never saw you coming. You free an arm the prisoners, and increase the value of your [Command] roll for the skeletons and revenants by 5.

Rolled 2, 2 = 4 (2d2)

>>6270176
Command Roll of 13, Stealth Roll of 14.

First die is Skelly losses, 2nd die is Revenant losses. Subtract 1 from each for the actual losses.

>>6270178
>>6270176
Actually, I forgot 1 thing that gives you an advantage: the Night Raid.

The enemy does not have anyone who can see in the dark as well as your skeletons and revenants (no Darkvision). You gain advantage on the [Command] roll.

Rolled 5 (1d20)

>>6270180
Aaaaaand I didn't format the dice correctly.

As the man named Quinn takes his leave, you flip a coin. Not just any coin, but the one you found amidst the village you've taken that can answer a simple question each day. When it lands on heads, you nod to yourself.

"Alright lads, this isn't a trap," you inform your force of skeletons. "Looks like the enemy is waiting for us in the next village. Would have been nice for Mr. Quinn to let us know how many adventurers Kettleburn hired, but expect them to be more seasoned than the militia. I wouldn't expect these to be as strong as Abigail and her party, give how they've holed up, but we can't be careful. Here's how we're going to do it..."

You dismount your pale horse and take out a map of the region. Folding it appropriately, you show them the Hamlet you're about to raid.

Twenty houses neatly pressed against the road, surrounded by a fence to keep the animals out. Annoying for a determined invasion force, but certainly no curtain wall that your skeletons would need to climb over. The warehouse sits near the edge of the village, slightly away from the houses on its row. Auspiciously, it's the closest structure to your approach, giving you easy access once you've baited the ambush.

"Detlev, we're gonna pretend that you're me," you tell him. The near-mindless revenant cocks his head, as if to say - how am I supposed to do that when I've hardly got a brain? - but you put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "All you need to do is ride out there with the other revenants, and hold this blade aloft. My little bird friend will bait them out."

To that end, you use a certain art of reliquary invocation: the ability to bestow relics on your allies. A pale horse appears now for Detlev, and though his cannot stride across the waters and snow as yours can, it is a steady worthy of a dreadknight. In his hands, a lesser version of your Blade of the Defiler. While it cannot cause a wound that festers with corruption, as you had done with Abigail, those slain by it will still rise again as your loyal minions.

And lastly, a raven leaps from your signet ring and lands on Detlev's shoulder.

"I can speak for you through this," you say through the raven. Its beak opens as though to caw, and your voice comes out of it. Deeper than it should have been, sounding with the same distortions of a demon's voice when possessing one of their loyal servants. "In the dark of night, they will only see a man clad in steel, raising a blade aloft and demanding their submission. They will not see the bird upon your should speaking."

Turning to the skeletons, you speak normally. "As for the 2nd and 3rd squadrons... while Detlev centers all of their attention on himself and the Revenants, your task will be to encircle the hamlet. Take out any patrolling guards, and provide counterfire against the crossbowmen that are set up in the windows."

>>6270213
Taking one last look at the map, you frown. There's no church, so there ought not be any truly powerful priests here, but... even a pathetic priestess like Stella who kisses clams with another woman as a way around her vows of chastity can be dangerous to the undead. "Lastly, beware any holy magics that get flung around. Don't run immediately if you see it, but if a spell gets cast of the third tier, retreat immediately."

A rattle of affirmation answers you. You then look to the revenants, "That goes for you as well, Detlev. Pull back if a third tier spell gets cast. We want to avoid casualties."

"Yes... m'Lady..."

Your eyes widen slightly when Detlev doesn't give a wordless grunt in response, but instead the weak will words that sound more of a man under mind control than a mindless revenant. He does not sound like he has Clint's full sapience, but for his personality to already begin shaping... you have a few hypotheses. A strong will in life speeds up the process, and so too does allowing them to fill their desires from life.

Your lips curl into a smile. He really wanted to fuck Lady Brightspring, didn't he? If her existence and blood connection to the land wasn't a threat to holding it, you'd almost be tempted to let him keep her as a pet. Instead, you simply pat him on the shoulder and say, "Good boy."

============

Dusk arrives soon enough.

The skeletons of the 4th Company have already disappeared into the fields of grain, their longbows at the ready and awaiting the order to strike. Detlev mounts his pale horse, your raven upon his shoulder and the bestowed Blade of the Defiler at his side. You move carefully through the grain yourself, but where the skeletons continue on down the length of the hamlet, you stop near the warehouse to wait for the single to move.

A shrieking whinny, the terrifying sound of a Pale Horse's battle cry sounds out. The signal for you to throw your voice through the Raven and shout, "Men of Briarthorpe, your redemption is at hand! Come out, and throw down thy arms! Bend the knee whilst the opportunity remains, and thy apostasy can yet be forgiven! Refuse, and all thou shalt know is the forgiveness of the grave!"

A woman's voice answers from one of the houses. "Ride back to your pit, Dreadknight! Ain't no one left in this village with any loyalty to your empire, 'cept for you. Won't even be that left if you insist on sticking around."

"So," your voice booms, distorted and deepened through the raven's maw. Like a greater demon possessing a host. "You have chosen the grave."

Arrows loose with the precision only the undead can bring, launching through the windows and striking the crossbowmen dead center of mass. Yet for each one slain, another quickly takes its place, crossbow at the ready and bolts ready to loose. Chaos is sewn amongst their ranks, but not as much as you would like. As the bolts fly at the revenants and Detlev, you pull your perception back from the Raven and begin your own work.

>>6270214
A dreadknight in full harness is not exactly quiet.

The way your living armor can respond to every movement of your body makes you quieter than an ordinary paladin, but you cannot truly fade into the darkness in the way that men and women of the Dividers' Hand are known to do. For all that your armor's joints do not creak, that the maille does not jingle in the night against the steel, your footfalls cannot be anything but heavy and your motions are far from nimble. You move with grace, but it is the grace of a masterfully wielded battleaxe and not the fine precision of the rapier.

"You hear that?" a man set to guard the warehouse calls out, moments after you slipped through the window.

"Hear what?" another guard asks. "The fighting that's going on outside? Yeah, I can hear that alright. Honestly, I'm amazed it's still going - it was what, five guys? Those adventurers brought what, thirty crossbowmen with them, right? How the hell are five guys still fighting against that many?"

"Quiet you," the first guard says. "I heard something inside, you ninny."

"That's probably Erin..." the second guard says. He sounds rather disgusted by something. "Seriously, I'm all for praising the Lord of Light and all, but those adventurers Lord Kettleburn sent are giving me some second thoughts, you know? Don't see Roger from Goldgrain and his merry bunch of fanatics running around raping and torturing his neighbors, now, do you?"

"The adventurers are a blunt instrument that we faithful must unfortunately make use of," the first guard replies after a moment of silence. "They will face the same judgment in Heaven for what they did to Erin that the Dreadknight will face for what was done to Lady Brightspring."

"Yeah..." the second guard doesn't sound too convinced. "But I mean, Lady Brightspring made the decision to rise up against the Empire and bring the Light to these lands. Miss Erin's barely a woman grown, standing by her parents like any good daughter would. It doesn't sit right with me, what those adventurer types did to her."

The first guard lets out a hollow chuckle. "Maybe we'll get lucky and the Dreadknight will kill all of the adventurers before succumbing to his wounds."

"You mean 'she'," the second guard says, looking at his friend. "I heard the Dreadknight was a pretty lady through the grapevine. That Quinn fellow who left when the others... stopped behavin' as Light fearing folk ought to said so."

"He must have had bad intel," the first guard replies, "You saw the procession, the Dreadknight leading them was a man. Didn't you hear his voice? Ain't no lady in the world with a voice like that."

"If you say so..." the second guard says. He perks up again as you creep close to a door, behind which you hear some muffled sounds of struggle. "Wait, I think I heard something too. Let's go check it out..."

>>6270216
Their soft footfalls approach you. How do you proceed?
>Try to hide again. (Rolls Stealth at +2)
>Confront them with violence. (Rolls Combat at +9)
>Confront them with your words. (Rolls Persuasion at +7)
>Pretend to be an adventurer come to have some fun with the prisoners (Rolls Performance at +7)
>Write In

>>6270219
>Confront them with violence. (Rolls Combat at +9)
Heresy begets retribution, and the wage of treason is death. The guy behind the door might prove himself to be worthy of becoming a minion, the hateful fanatic nought but the sweet release of death.

>>6270219
>>Pretend to be an adventurer come to have some fun with the prisoners (Rolls Performance at +7)
Then we slit their throats when they let us close enough. They might shout if we attack directly, which may draw extra forces to attack/burn down the warehouse.

>>6270219
>Confront them with violence. (Rolls Combat at +9)
Yeah we're just going to kill them.

>>6270182
what was this supposed to be ? a third stealth roll ?
>>6270219
>Confront them with your words. (Rolls Persuasion at +7)
I wanna mog them, since confrontation will raise more alarm

>>6270278
Yeah, and our bone boys aren't doing too hot. +1 to this vote.

>>6270278
Ah, that was your advantage roll on [Command], because I forgot that the enemy doesn't have Darkvision. Unfortunately, it wasn't higher than the first roll.

>>6270219
>Pretend to be an adventurer come to have some fun with the prisoners (Rolls Performance at +7)
... too bad we didn't bring our minions (Abby and Clint) along, otherwise it'd be easier to convince them; also, that's why I wanted for Saligia to wear simpler clothing.

>>6270219
>>Confront them with your words. (Rolls Persuasion at +7)

>>6270278
>Pretend to be an adventurer come to have some fun with the prisoners (Rolls Performance at +7)

>>6270278
Arguing with them would definitely raise more alarm given there shouldn't be anyone not (nominally) worshipping the Light outside the warehouse, while pretending to be an adventurer would at least buy us enough time for those guards to lower their guard somewhat before we cut them down.

>>6270219
> Pretend to be an adventurer come to have some fun with the prisoners (Rolls Performance at +7)
> Write-in: pretend to be an adventurer that's here to "dissuade escape attempts" and we're currently marching to confront the "dreadknight".

Fighting them would raise alarms, arguing with them would definitely raise more alarms given there shouldn't be anyone not worshiping the Light here, while pretending to be an adventurer would at least buy us some time to close the distance before cutting them down.

Rolled 9 + 7 (1d20 + 7)

Winning vote is "Confront with words". Rolling Persuasion at +7

>>6270827
nice

Rolled 12 + 1 (1d20 + 1)

Rolling a Charisma Save (not yours) for various reasons.

>>6270880
we won

"No need, gentlemen," you say. Emerging from the shadows like a night-haunter clad in steel, your glowing red eyes make the two villagers on guard yelp with fright. They're both burly enough, and have a rugged handsomeness to them that stirs your womanly heart in ways that Clint and Tiffany never could. They'd both make delightful pets, shaggy hounds compared to the lithe cats you've collected. "Don't bark too loudly now. I do not relish the thought of killing imperial citizens, even wayward ones led into the arms of a rebellion."

A lie. Death to the traitor, the heretic, and the apostate.

Keeping these men alive - and more importantly, quiet - is simply more convenient to your aims at the moment. Hands left idle by your foes, who've begun to doubt the cause they threw their lot in with, are a splendid gift to the Demon Lords' workshop. So you simply keep your sword raised and dripping with the Defiler's Corruption, the meaning in your gesture clear.

"Tell that to the butchered children of Brightsprings," the first guard spits. But he doesn't raise his voice, not above the din of the fighting. "I've heard tell of what became of them. The Empire's dogs piled the corpses high for their masters-"

"And not a single child among them, I promise you that." You do not deny the butchery of traitors, but such uncouth rumors are unbecoming. "Those children carry the Empire's future on their backs, and the magistrates will ensure that they learn well enough to not repeat the mistakes of their parents."

Silence hangs in the air for a moment.

The first guard looks furious enough to leap at you, but wary eyes watch your sword, knowing that if he tried make a sound he would die faster that his breath could escape him. The second guard has a strained expression on his face, but is the first to break the silence. "Look, what are you here for? It's obvious you could have ended us before we even saw you, but you didn't. So there's gotta be something you want from us, right?"

You do not lower your sword, but your lips crinkle into a smile. "I see two stouthearted men who want to do the right thing. I know there to be near on two dozen leal citizens of the Empire in that basement. Surely staring into the light of the liar has not blinded you so much, has it?"

The first guard growls, "Those are prisoners held against Imperial aggression, you can't possibly expect us to just let them go."

"I suppose not," you acquiesce, nodding your head. Then a cruelness fills your eyes. "Lord Kettleburn's men need their comforts after all. Tell me, is Miss Erin a rare beauty? I imagine she is... and I imagine that those adventurers, fighting for justice, will enjoy passing her around like a common pit-whore until all the spirit dies in her eyes, either accepting her fate or taking her own life to escape it. But, I mean, I guess that's what the Lord of Light says such a deplorable heretic deserves, isn't it?"

"Keep her name out of your-" the second guard starts on a tirade full of youthful vigor and outrage, but the first guard - older, and wiser - cuts him off.

"So what if they do?" the older man declares. His words give pause to his younger compatriot, who looks at him with a shock that slowly turns to rage. The older man either doesn't see it, or does not care. "I've seen the debauchery of the pit-born, the lives wasted and burned in degeneracy and anguish to keep the gears of your Empire turning. The hellish lighting, the cramped conditions, the demonic daily rituals that make wastrels of men and whores of women. In the face of such distilled depravity, any alternative is preferable."

If he truly believed that, he would shout. He would raise the alarm and call for the adventurers to help kill you, and they may even succeed at wounding you. He still fears death more than depravity... but you have little hope to turn him, when he shows such conviction. His friend on the other hand... the delicious expression on his face tells you all that you need to know.

He just needs a little push, so you give it to him in the form of a question. You ask the old man, "Even if it means the soldiers of the Light make whores of the women on the wrong side of the conflict?"

"The Lord of Light will punish all wrong doers," the old man declares. "A wretch like you, a sinner like them, none shall escape his judgment. But they, at least, may earn some measure of forgiveness, for they march for His righteous cau-"

A cracking sound fills night.

Your smile widens.

The younger guard stands over the crumpled form of the older man, breathing heavily, his eyes wide and his face twisted with rage. He glares at you for a moment, his body tensing as if expecting you to do something. When all you do is give him a motherly smile, his body relaxes. Right up until you take a gamble and throw your sword at his feet. He stares at you for a moment, and then the blade... before picking it up and driving it through the man's throat.

"That must have been a hard decision to make," you tell him. He nods, slowly, his eyes never leaving the sword. "Was he a friend?"

"Thought he was," the young man say. He spits on the corpse, his hatred mingling with the blade's oozing corruption. "No friend of mine would ever make excuses for men what raped one of our neighbors. That's the sort of shite I'd expect from a monster like you. The Light's supposed to be better than this, holding themselves to a higher standard than you'd expect from common brigands or Dreadknights."

He contemplates the blade in his hand, before pointing it at you. A meaningless gesture, for the relic is yours and you can return it to your hand with ease, but he does not know that. "Speakin' of, you sure that was wise, giving me a blade this fine? I'm no great fencer, but how do you know I won't return it to you through your throat?"

>>6270929
"Because you want to be a hero, don't you?" you ask, taking a step forward. The black blade scrapes against the plates of your harness ever-so-gently, unable to pierce its defense. Young men like him are absolutely adorable when you press their resolve. "You've already sullied yourself with the blood of a comrade who betrayed his ideals. Is killing a woman who's been disarmed really the next thing on your bucket list? Wouldn't you rather use those strong arms to defend someone?"

At this point you've walked straight into his guard, your blood red eyes aglow as they stare into his blue ones. He swallows dryly, clearly unused to a top-tier beauty such as yourself getting so close, and shakily answers, "Yes."

"Good answer," you say.

Then you prop up onto your tip-toes and plant a kiss upon his lips. Not out of affection, though he is plenty cute enough that you'd take him if he was available, but to grant him your gift that will slowly bend and twist those ideals in such delicious ways until he finally becomes a dependable ally. You shrink back after swapping some spit and put on the face of a charming vixen as he stutters wordlessly.

"Careful now, don't bark too loudly," you tease, poking at his puppy-like demeanor. "That should give you some strength to carry on for a while, shouldn't it~?"

"I, uh..." he stammers, still uncertain as how to respond. You wonder if he's mistaking the surge of vitality you granted him for something else? How delightful~! "D-Don't think that we're allies just because Martin proved himself a cunt... and don't think that I'm the sort of man who can be swayed by a pretty face! What sort of devilish schemes do you have planned for me, slave of the pit-lords?!"

"Wouldn't you like to know~?" you tease him again. Divider Lords below, his reactions are positively delicious, young bucks like him are the best. His face has turned a bright cherry red as his mind no doubt visits all the steamy fantasies of what a dominant female Dreadknight would do to a paladin. If only he were so lucky~! Though maybe he will be, his reactions certainly please your lady parts. "Sinful dreadknights like me are prone to eating the righteous up~! Though I think to start, having you take those prisoners somewhere they'll be safe from those mercenaries would be a good start. Unless you think they've come to enjoy the depredations they've been subject to?"

Still red in the ears, he does ask, "Why do you care?"

>>6270930
"Because they're the Imperial Citizens I've sworn to protect," you say, leaving the obvious unspoken. Word getting out about the so-called 'righteous' having their way with the citizenry as freely as you've had your way with scum traitors will also help to crash any thoughts of people joining up with Kettleburn and his fanatics. Some men may fall to the temptations of the Light, but if they think the paladins they shelter might have their way with the daughters of their more loyal neighbors, they'll think twice. "What other reason do I need? I'll happily commit atrocities against the enemies of the Empire, but from the highest lord to the lowest serf its citizens are to be cherished."

"I..." the young man's words are shaky before he takes a deep breath. "I'll do it. My name is Ragnar Millstone, and it might not be much, but I swear on my name that I'll see my neighbors safe to Goldgrain, Lady..."

"Saligia Clearwater," you finish for him, smirking as a little smile crosses his face. "I'll accept your oath in this. We can discuss the matter of your clemency after the battle for this village has been won. Let us see to your neighbors, Ragnar, and then I shall see to the battle."

==========================

The warehouse's lower storeroom held two dozen prisoners in various states of dress. The men are bruised and beaten, the women's clothes have been torn to leave their bosom's bare to the world. Their flesh seared with hot irons as if to mark them indelibly with the sign that they alone remained faithful to the Divider Lords. Some on their brow, some on their breast, and some on their bottom - no doubt administered as the adventurers took their fun.

The children at least have only been bound, small mercy as that was.

The state of their parents and their elder siblings already fills your heart with a seething hatred for all who turned against the Empire in this village. Anything more, and your hatred would overflow. You would march out in a blind fury with your sword in hand, creating such a glorious distraction for Ragnar to lead these folks away. The young man would have all the time in the world to escape, and the bodies of the Empire's enemies would pile high.

You are able to keep your rage bound until the men and women are untied, and you are able to see Ragnar off with them in tow. A raven goes with them, both to keep an eye on the young man and to speak with the goodman Roger Smith once they've arrived at his hamlet.

Once they are gone, you turn to the corpse of the first guard, Martin. Your voice is a steely command, "Rise."

You expect the corpse to rise, the black ichor of corruption flowing through the veins of its arcanovascular system. What you do not expect was for the eyes of this revenant to open up with such clarity behind them. Nor do you expect its words once it is fully upon its feet.

"At your side, my lady."

>>6270931
His name is Martin Aurellion, an adventurer of some renown. An adherent to the Lord of Light who retired for a quiet life in this town. Betrayed by his apprentice for compromising his ideals, an echo of his personality now serves at your side. In life, he was...
>A paladin. Your antithesis, but how delightful that he and his apprentice shall now work for you.
>A warlord. A charismatic bladesman who mastered no only combat, but leadership on the battlefield as well
>An armiger. A master of many weapons, switching easily between sword, bow, and everything in between.
>A soulknife. A psychic specialized in shaping their psionic potential into a weapon of dreams.
>A daevic. An invoker of reliquary equipment guided by their passions.
>A fighter. One of those simple men-at-arms, who took his craft past his peers and turned it to an art.

It seems like your forces are getting driven back. How do you plan on fixing this?
>Send out Martin to assist them and assume direct control. Command them from within the Warehouse with the aid of your ravens (Roll Command +7)
>Move quietly with Martin to break through the households and take out what remains of the crossbowmen. (Roll Stealth +2)
>Move loudly, draw fire, and slaughter everyone in your path. (Roll Combat +9)
>Use Martin to trick them into thinking the fight is over. Let them gather around you... and then slaughter them all. (Roll Performance +7)
>(Write In)

>>6270934
>An armiger.
>A soulknife.
Both of these sound interesting (don't forget we'll get the apprentice too, probably).

>Send Martin to take out crossbowmen while we:
>Move loudly, draw fire, and slaughter everyone in your path.

>>6270934
>An armiger. A master of many weapons, switching easily between sword, bow, and everything in between.

>Move loudly, draw fire, and slaughter everyone in your path. (Roll Combat +9)

>>6270934
If revenant paladins can heal/buff dreadknights/revenants/undeads and is good at fighting thralls of the Pretenders, then
>A paladin. Your antithesis, but how delightful that he and his apprentice shall now work for you.
otherwise
>A soulknife. A psychic specialized in shaping their psionic potential into a weapon of dreams.

Paladin is a no-brainer but unsure if we'll get much utility out of it; Soulknife would give us a moveset we don't otherwise have, we have an abundance of fighters, while neither warlord nor daevic would fit Martin given he's a dispassionate man that pissed off his squire enough to get stabbed by him.

>Use Martin to trick them into thinking the fight is over. Let them gather around you... and then slaughter them all. (Roll Performance +7)

Use the raven we gave to Detlev for him to announce something like "time for a tactical retreat" or "we'll fight another day" and have the skeletons withdraw and regroup, get Martin to announce we've beaten the [insert slurs against the Empire] and get everyone to celebrate... then we turn the hamlet into the apostates' charnel. Cut down any adventuers we come across as our skeletons rain death upon the battlefield, force them to fight a two-front battle they're not prepared for.

>>6270934
If revenant paladins can heal/buff dreadknights/revenants/undeads and is good at fighting thralls of the Pretenders, then
>A paladin. Your antithesis, but how delightful that he and his apprentice shall now work for you.
otherwise
>A soulknife. A psychic specialized in shaping their psionic potential into a weapon of dreams.

Paladin is a no-brainer but unsure if we'll get much utility out of it; Soulknife would give us a moveset we don't otherwise have, we have an abundance of discount-fighters/armigers in the form of our skeletons, while neither warlord nor daevic would fit Martin given he's a dispassionate man that pissed off his squire enough to get stabbed by him.

>Use Martin to trick them into thinking the fight is over. Let them gather around you... and then slaughter them all. (Roll Performance +7)

Use the raven we gave to Detlev for him to announce something like "time for a tactical retreat" or "we'll fight another day" and have the skeletons withdraw and regroup, get Martin to announce we've beaten the [insert slurs against the Empire] and get everyone to celebrate... then we turn the hamlet into the apostates' charnel. Cut down any adventuers we come across as our skeletons rain death upon the battlefield, force them to fight a two-front battle they're not prepared for.

>>6270934
>A soulknife. A psychic specialized in shaping their psionic potential into a weapon of dreams.
>Use Martin to trick them into thinking the fight is over. Let them gather around you... and then slaughter them all. (Roll Performance +7)
>>6270958
He doesn't seem particularly paladin-y either. Dude was okay with looking past some of the stuff Saligia does when it's his allies doing it. If I want to corrupt a Paladin, I want him to be a knight in shining armor that we tempt over to the dark side.

FYI, not feeling great today. Yesterday was a cheat day for my new diet, and cheating has left me feeling incredibly nauseous. Vote will remain open untill 6PM EST tomorrow.

>>6271415
waiting warmly

Rolled 6, 12 + 7 = 25 (2d20 + 7)

Rolling your performance. You have advantage because these people trust Martin implicitly. He was a pillar of the community.

>>6272117
Nice

How incredibly curious! To think that a peasant militia would possess a man with a will strong enough to echo on even after your blade forced the tainted essence of the Defiler into his arcanovascular system. You smell not a wiff of righteous hypocrisy wafting off of his wiry, well muscled body, so he did not survive in truth. What stands before you is a reflection of his soul in a mirror, had his morality reflected your own.

Not quite as autonomous as those who turn upon receipt of your profane gift, but far moreso than the average revenant. As if you had created Clint purely on happenstance, rather than through deliberate measure.

Which is why you must ask him a certain question with your sword held at the ready. "Who do you serve?"

"Superbia. Avaritia. Luxuria. Invidia. Gula. Ira. Acedia," he intones the sins that spell your name with a hollow reverence. His blue eyes flicker like candles against the pitch black of his sclera. "These words were revealed to me as your essence rode roughshod over the soul that once inhabited this corpse, my lady. The sins and compromise of his contradictory existence drowned in the depths of your boundless, unshakable purity, and in death we are enlightened."

With those words, he drops to one knee before you. In his hands there appears a blade that could have been forged from the summer sky, woven of daydreams and the careless thoughts of mortal men who cannot help but sin. He thrusts it into the ground, hands clasped about the hilt as if in prayer.

"He thought the life of a sword to be a sinful thing, so he sought to bend it to a plowshare," the high-revenant says. "And when he found his efforts made for a mediocre tool, he left it to rust. Eyes clouded by the fog called ennui, the fool mistook peace for virtue. He allowed the mundanity of everyday life to hollow out his heart, praying that his true nature would wither like the desert peach in winter."

You look down on him with red eyes blazing with hellish light. That doesn't answer your question.

"No more. In death, the fool has received life anew. Thy effervescent purity hath sharpened an edge upon this rusted blade," he continues his soliloquy. You have absolutely no idea what the man is on about, but you try not to let it show on your face. "You, who see the world with eyes unclouded by doubt: this worthless blade is yours to wield as you see fit. Let the only rust upon it be the blood of thy enemies."

Silence hangs in the air for a brief moment.

Then it hits you, "You're the sword, aren't you?"

"Indeed I am, my lady," Martin replies. Is that amusement in his voice? The voice of a newborn revenant? You're not sure how you feel about that. "I, Martin Aurelion, am your blade, to wield as you see fit, against whomever you see fit."

In that case, you can think of a few other ways to get some rust upon his blade. One of your pillow friends back in the Squire Corps liked to gush about how gentlemen in their forties were the best!, when chatting about your preferences in men. You personally preferred virgin hunting - men who never had a woman before were always so deliciously eager - but you now have a convenient way to experiment with that.

Later.

"Very well, Martin," you accept his oath. Giving him your hand, you help him to his feet. A vicious smile meets his mirthless expression, and you give him his first task. "Now heed my words carefully. The first target your blade shall be turned against... is me."

=================

"Fall back!"

After nearly fifteen minutes of fighting, the invading Dreadknight finally calls for his forces to fall back. Holly sighs in relief when she peeks from the window and sees the skeletal archers disappearing into the wheat... for good, this time. She sends a silent prayer of thanks to the Lord of Light for delivering her home from the damned who rode against the adventurers and the militia. Death or worse awaited the faithful who dared to resist evil, if evil triumphed here.

"Why did they retreat?" her dear husband, Alaric, asks. His eyes scan the horizon, looking for something off about the situation. "They only lost one of their archers, and a single man-at-arms. We had the advantage, but they still..."

He looks at one of the buildings where that monster in mental crashed the door open with his great iron hammer. Even alone, a man in full harness is a force most folk aren't ready to stop. When backed up by hearty men-at-arms, well, the corpses of adventurers and Holly's neighbors thrown from the windows showed what that sort of force could do when determined. Perhaps they got what they came for, or perhaps they knew about the hamlet's trump card and fled...

"Men of Emberheart!" a familiar voice cries. Martin Aurelion, the village's best warrior... if one did not take magic into account. "Victory is ours! I say, victory is ours!"

Holly looks out the window, and sees the rugged man frog-marching a woman to the center of town. A beauty some men might call peerless, almost like that strumpet Erin who seduced the adventurers who had come to protect them in Lord Kettleburn's name with her sinful body. No, even more than that, and Holly could tell with just a glance that she too spread her legs for incubi that came in the night. A whore for demons.

The woman's hair was meticulously straight, even the bangs, something she doubtlessly wasted countless hours upon in the morning when she could have simply kept it out of her face by tying it with a ponytail. Her build declared a maturity that her face did not, not a single wrinkle or laugh line or flaw upon her skin, a fresh-faced woman in her early twenties with the sinful curves of a woman matured. Curves she did not hide away from sight as was proper!

>>6272192
No, the white toga she wore practically invited the lustful gazes of men like a prostitute on the prowl. Holly had no idea what that skin-tight black stocking the woman wore beneath it was made of, but it also had the appearance of something you would only see on a whore.

Bless him, stalwart Martin was not seduced by her wiles. Holly did need to box her husband's ears when she saw his gaze wandering the strumpet's body.

Just like Erin the Demon-Whore. Holly thought to herself.

"I caught this Imperial trying to sneak into the granary and spread a blight among our stores as our valiant defenders were occupied with the the Dreadknight and his forces," Martin spells out the Empire's deceit for everyone to hear. His blade is raised overhead, shedding its blue light upon the town square. Anger spreads quickly through Holly's neighbors and the adventurers alike. "What's more, it is she who commands the vile fiends that assailed us."

"I-I called them off!" the sniveling whore has a tone desperation thick in her voice as the outraged gazes of the village fell upon her. "S-So you'll spare me, right? Y-You promised me a t-t-trial with Lord Kettleburn, so..."

Anger fills the air - that the enemy who killed so many might be spared, might cut a deal - which Martin silences. "I promised you no such thing, witch."

"But you said-!"

"That you would face the light's justice if you cooperated," Martin tells her. Holly almost feels sorry for the demon-whore as her neighbors laugh at her. Just as they laughed at that dumb strumpet Erin as she wailed about 'saving herself' when the adventurers dragged the demon-loving slut to their quarters. "Lord Kettleburn is not the only light fearing man who can give justice in these lands. Men of Emberheart! What justice do we give to the demon-lover, whose foul minions butchered so many of our comrades?!"

"Death!" Holly's husband shouts, and she finds herself joining him. "Death at dawn!"

The rest of the village joins in soon enough, and all that can be heard in the night are chants of Death at Dawn. The most sacred of times, when the Sun triumphs over the night and banishes all of its evils. There is no better time to hang a demon-whore strumpet from the lamp posts than dawn, and the thought has the entire hamlet enraptured for a few brief minutes. Until the village's trump card steps forward.

"Martin Aurelion," the ever-calm voice of the scion speaks. "Your passion is rekindled. I am glad."

"Scion Juniper," Martin returns the holy scion's greeting with a nod. "My sword found new purpose this night. It is grim... but I am glad all the same. How do you judge this wretch?"

>>6272193
"Such a pure evil I have not felt in quite some time," the scion declares. Hushed whispers echo around the village at those words. Holly knew the scion once journeyed the world, from north to south and east to west, and so for her to say that a great evil lurked in the demon-whore's heart... "Yes. The Light judges this one in need of repentance. We shall return her soul to the Lord at dawn, that she may be purified, and find redemption in the next life..."

=================

That scion... you did not plan for someone like her to be in a place like this. Fortunately her senses are not as attuned as they could have been, else the lie of Martin's condition would have been made apparent. Your despoiling aura must have overwhelmed any other traces of evil upon him, for her to not detect his lies. Subtlety is not your specialty, but you somewhat enjoyed being manhandled and playing the despairing victim. It will make the reversal at dawn all the sweeter, to see them despair as their champion betrays them and their scion is despoiled.

As the night passed, ravens flew and forces marched swiftly. Reinforcements from the Fourth Company... and a few militiamen from Goldgrain who seem rather furious about the state of Miss Erin and are out for blood. Oh, how you love patriots who will stand up for the rights of their fellow citizens to go unmolested for their beliefs.

The door cracks open. Martin has "come" for you... meaning that it's time to kill some heretics.

How do you deal with the Scion? (Battle will be rolled)
>Face her yourself. You want to take the angelblood as a trophy and don't want to risk anyone else getting the kill.
>You and Martin will double team her while your skeletons slaughter everyone else.
>The scion dies first. All forces take her down immediately.
>(Write in)

What do you do with the hamlet?
>Raze it to the ground. Only ash shall remain.
>Keep it in your sole domain for now, until the magisters can sort it out.
>Give it to whichever militiaman distinguishes himself the most.
>(Write in)

What of the Hamlet's people and adventurers?
>A clean death is more than they deserve, but you'll give it to them.
>They shall serve the Empire in chains, and fatten up your wallet.
>They shall serve you as revenants, one and all if you can manage it.
>Leave one alive to send a message to Lord Kettleburn. The head of the adventurers should do.
>(Write In)

>>6272195
>Face her yourself. You want to take the angelblood as a trophy and don't want to risk anyone else getting the kill.
>Give it to whichever militiaman distinguishes himself the most.
During the battle:
>A clean death is more than they deserve, but you'll give it to them.
Any survivors:
>They shall serve the Empire in chains, and fatten up your wallet.

>>6272195
>Face her yourself. You want to take the angelblood as a trophy and don't want to risk anyone else getting the kill.

>Give it to whichever militiaman distinguishes himself the most.

>They shall serve the Empire in chains, and fatten up your wallet.

>>6272195
How do you deal with the Scion? (Battle will be rolled)
>The scion dies first. All forces take her down immediately.

Death the to traitor, the heretic, and the apostate; suffer not the demagogue.
(If she can be restrained then do it and corrupt her after the fight.)

What do you do with the hamlet?
> Give it to whichever militiaman distinguishes himself the most.

Likely either Marcus or Ragnar.

What of the Hamlet's people and adventurers?
>(Write In)
Free the faithful inside the warehouse, offer to bless Erin with our gift if she's still alive, and see how many adventures are worthy of atoning their sins as revenants.

>>6272277
We already rescued the loyal citizens( >>6270931); all that's left are traitor scum, hired adventurers, and possibly their families.

>>6272279
Welp, then
>They shall serve you as revenants, one and all if you can manage it.

Not gonna say no to free manpower. Those unworthy of atoning their sins will become bones for our army instead.

>>6272279
Welp, then
>They shall serve you as revenants, one and all if you can manage it.

Not gonna say no to free manpower. Those unwilling to atone for their crimes and join us as revenants (or even corrupted servants if we get lucky) will become bones for our army instead.

>>6272195
>>Face her yourself. You want to take the angelblood as a trophy and don't want to risk anyone else getting the kill.
>Give it to whichever militiaman distinguishes himself the most.
>They shall serve the Empire in chains, and fatten up your wallet.

How boring...

Juniper knew humility. Juniper did not believe herself the strongest Scion in Kettleburn County, let alone the March of Edelweiss or the Thornlands as a whole. The blood of angels ran thicker in her father, for one. In his heyday he could call upon the sword of the Garden's Keeper, a blade of holy flame that purged all evil in a single swing. While such relics eluded Juniper, she possessed gifts enough that on talent alone she exceeded most adventurers.

Growing up around such power, being given such power by her blood alone, this made all the peasants worries and desires seem positively droll. What did crop failure mean to someone who could effortlessly catch all the fish she needed with her bare hands? Why covet what your neighbor possesses when you can just hunt yourself a dozen bandits and buy whatever he had? Why obsess over petty things like the execution of this blackheart woman when mere skeletons die so easily?

It's a shame she slept through the alleged battle. They said the bones were ironclad, but that cannot stop the gentle fist and its lifepulse from sending the dead back to their graves.

Now she has to play the part her father assigned her.

A judge to pull the gallows lever and execute a witless Imperial who tried to infiltrate a fortified hamlet alone.

They even made her wake up before dawn for the execution. Martin captured the woman, and even suggested the ritual hanging at sunrise to symbolize the light triumphing over the dark. Given how passionate the dispassionate man seemed last night, she bet the woman bit him when he tried to have his fun with her. Martin never took his fun like that before, but the Imperial was even prettier than Juniper was. Pretty enough to stir the passions of the most frigid man for miles, and earn his resentment with her rejection.

Probably.

That was just speculation on Juniper's part.

He marched her out of the warehouse cold as ever. He wore a dark hooded robe over his tunic and trousers, fitting clothes for an executioner. She could almost see the latent psychic power swirling in his eyes, potential he had left untapped for near two decades now. Martin's strength was peer to hers in his many years of torpor, so seeing his passion sparked again left Juniper excited to have someone to test herself against.

The woman he dragged behind him was pathetic. She was tall, well groomed, and wore the toga of the Imperial nobility as well as anyone could. The iron brooch on her breast must have been the sigil of her house. The way she conducted herself, however, was entirely unbecoming of a Noblewoman. Tears streamed down her face in unbecoming rivers, and her voice filled with the whiny desperation of a woman who relied on men to save her.

>>6272795
"Hey, hey, you're not actually going to kill me, right?" she pleads as the crowd begins to assemble. The boos of the peasants are almost as uncouth as the demon-worshipper's composure, but that was to be expected of the little people. "Come on, I'll sing any tune you want, I'll sell out anyone you want to know about! The dreadknight? The magister? The black priest? I know lots of things about lots of people, just please don't kill me...!"

"Pathetic," Juniper grumbled beneath the din of the crowd.

Near everyone came out to watch the execution. Most of the adventurers even joined, though a token few kept an eye out on the perimeter against the return of the Dreadknight. Unlikely. Most of his forces were probably back in Brightsprings, so it would be a few days until he could return... and even then, what could his skeletons do against Juniper's lifepulse? They would all crumble and die.

The noble woman continued to beg as Martin read out her charges. Most of them trumped up, but it hardly mattered. The villagers wanted a sacrificial lamb to vent their anger at the Empire, and this woman was just unfortunate enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. There was just one thing that bothered Juniper.

How is her evil aura so strong?

She radiated evil like a blazing inferno, so intensely that she could barely feel Martin's psychic powers beneath it. Such auras meant one of two things: either she was powerful herself, or she had an incredibly powerful patron. Given the sheer pathos of the woman, it had to be her patron. Which meant that once this execution was over, she'd need to visit Kettleburn and maybe catch up Marquis Edelweiss on his adventurism.

"You have all heard her crimes!" Martin declares to the crowd once he's done listing charges. "Grave crimes against the people of Emberheart, against the Lord of Light Himself! Scion Juniper, as chosen of His church and childe of the Angels, what say you her sentence?"

Juniper paused for a moment.

She supposed they must have thought it regal, the ponderance of wisdom and the Lord of Light's mercy. In actuality, Juniper was a rather sloppy person, and needed to remember the right words. The crowd wanted the Imperial dead, so she had to grant that death the pomp they deserved. "There can be only one sentence cast for her crimes. In the name of my great ancestor, the Archangel Yao, and in accordance with the teachings of the Lord of Light: I, Scion Yao Juniper, sentence you to die. May your soul find peace in the Lion's embrace."

"Y-Y-You can't do this...!" the woman stammers out as Matin drags her to the gallows. She looks at him with desperation in her crimson bloody eyes, and slips herself out of her toga, letting it fall to her feet. It doesn't leave her nude, but the way the black garment beneath it clings to her like a second skin, she may as well be. "M-My tits were famous in my hometown, you know? If you let me live, I'll let you touch them!"

>>6272796
The crowd guffaws at how pathetic she seems.

"Really?" Martin drawls. His eyes don't even dip below her neckline with that pathetic attempt at seduction. Juniper smirks; she's tried that sort of maneuver to get a rise out of Martin before... to no avail. His voice is dry and unamused, though there's something in his tone that Juniper can't place. It's like he's disappointed at the situation. "Is that really the best attempt at begging for your life that you can manage?"

A raven caws overhead.

Something about the woman's demeanor changes. Her posture, her stance, the look on her face all shifts in a way too subtle for the crowd of peasants to notice, but immediately puts Juniper on edge. The tilt to the woman's head, like a confused puppy as she says something in a salacious tone that Juniper wouldn't have believed possible from her not a moment ago. "Well usually I'm the one making people beg. Besides, are you really saying that you don't want to give them a squeeze later~?"

Martin sighs, and whispers something that Juniper strains to hear. Something about this isn't right. No one goes from desperate to flirtatious as they approach death's door. Even as Martin puts the noose around the noblewoman's neck, every instinct in Junipers body is to spring forward and start pummeling the bitch with her fists.

Then it happens. A rain of arrows descends falls on the square and before Juniper can shout a warning half the men of the village are dead.

"Martin, you traitor!" Juniper shouts.

Letting her divinity surge, her qi flowing through her body, Juniper rushes forward and throws a punch straight for his jaw. The woman in black intercepts, and Juniper finds her fist colliding with a plate of black iron as a demonic set of plate armor folds out across the woman's body. Her angelic blood, her decades of practiced cultivation should have punched through the woman's armor without issue, and yet she couldn't do it.

It was like her strength had been reduced to that of a child, so proud that she could break a board of plywood that when she failed to break a brick it devastated her.

They said the dreadknight was a man, but this woman... she's not just some pathetic noble! Those were the thoughts that ran through Juniper's mind as the real dreadknight caught her flurry of blows upon her plate and ignored them like a child's useless flailing. She ignored Juniper utterly, turning to Martin and telling him, "The Angelblooded is mine. Aid the 4th Company and the Militia in butchering these wretches."

Juniper dodged a lazy swing, but all the same she felt something. As if the very air she breathed became tainted by the mere presence of this woman. An intoxicating poison that burned her lungs and seeped into her veins.

>>6272797
Still, she couldn't allow this to be one sided. She'd take the dreadknight out of the fight as soon as possible, and then counter anything Martin tried. She threw a mighty kick at the dreadknight's exposed head, shouting, "Like I'd let you!"

For a moment, she thought the woman stunned, her head flung back. Perhaps she broke her neck. But then, the dreadknight simply gave a crack of her neck, smiling as she recovered with only a bloody nose. A haunting, beautiful, and terrible smile. The toothy grin of a predator who just found herself some delicious prey.

"Who's letting who do what now?" the dreadknight asks, and then her black blade flickered through the air.

A wound sprouted from Juniper's side. It missed all of her vital organs, and yet at the same time it burned in the same way that the air burned. A burning pain that seeped into her blood, and a numbness that assaulted her every sense. As if the wound were trying to say: is this really so bad? Just give in and go to sleep, and all your worries will fade away.

A part of her wanted to run away. These were only peasants after all, they didn't matter in the long run. They were just convenient pawns against the Empire, for Lord Kettleburn's ambitions to rid his neighbors of Demon Worship and claim new territories on the other side of the mountains. The warmth of her halo reminded her of why she couldn't let that happen.

"I won't let you butcher these people," Juniper hissed.

She aimed another flurry of blows at the dreadknight's exposed face, each of them dense with enough qi to turn an ordinary man's head into a bursting melon. The blow seemed to stagger the dreadknight, making her drop her blade. The follow-ups only caught her armor, but perhaps the qi reverberated past it and burst one of her organs.

No, that was wishful thinking. Juniper realized that when the dreadknight caught her arm as she pulled back, and pulled her into a hold that bound her.

"Let me butcher?" the dreadknight whispered into her ear, her voice passionless and analytical. "Just who is it that thinks they can 'let' me do anything? Certainly not you, Angelblood. No, you're going to be far too busy from now on. Did you know? The womb of a woman with the blood of angels is the ideal incubator for something called a demonforge."

Something sank in the pit of Juniper's heart when she heard the woman speak. "W-What in the nine hells-?"

"Congratulations~" the dreadknight sounds horrifically sincere. An armored finger traces Juniper's torso, all the way from the neck to a place just below her navel. "You're going to give birth to so many cute little demonspawn~!"

"G-Get your hands off me!" Juniper shouts, panic taking her.

>>6272799
Her body twists, and somehow Juniper escapes the dreadknight's cold iron grasp. She runs as fast as she can, fleeing past the screaming villagers as the skeletons cut them down. Militia from Goldgrain too appear to have joined, most of them young bachelors whose faces Juniper barely remembered. Martin as well, driving his sword of dreams through the heart of the last standing adventurers. The wound at her side burned horribly and wonderfully, the pain and pleasure seeping through her veins.

She had to escape. She had to make it to Lord Kettleburn's estate and warn him of the dreadknight's forces, of her appearance if she tried to infiltrate another of his villages. But first she had to hide, and to heal her wounds before they took her.

She found a place in the shadow of a mill. Between some boxes, out of sight and mind. With skillfull hands she pulsed her chi, a healing wave that should have cleansed her body of the wound and its the taint.

The wound devoured it.

And then, it devoured Juniper.

=================

"Hah~"

After a hard day's work and a well fought battle, you've commandeered the house of the now deceased headman of Emberheart and are breaking in his most comfortable chair. A glass of the headman's finest wine is at your side, a frumpy revenant you stuffed into a maid outfit is feeding you a cut from his fattest calf, and his wife is eagerly assisting your latest conquest in attending to your every need. As revenants, neither the headman's wife nor the Angelblood have technique half as good as your dear Tiff, but having both of them working the job at once makes up for their sloppy performance.

Of course, with the fighting done, you didn't just run off to have fun. You had to secure the survivors who tried to flee or hide. Most of them the women, which means that once Varten comes up to Brightsprings you'll have a good amount of coin in your wallet. Legally speaking, prisoners are the property of the Dreadknight who takes them, after all.

Once that finished up, there were petitions from the young men who came down from Goldgrain to fight for you.

Largely, they wanted your blessing to take the women they captured as their wives. Being traitors to the Empire made that tricky, but honestly most of them were of an age with the bachelors. Women barely in their twenties, no doubt able to spin a sob story about being swept up in the foolishness of their families. Since they captured those women themselves, you didn't really have any legal standing to deny them what they wanted. You did, however, mandate that both they and their new wives accepted your profane gift, to encourage their loyalty to the Empire.

By blood.

>>6272800
Not your preferred way of giving it, but you'd not make cuckolds of the hardy men of Goldgrain who fought for you. Especially given that you decided that running this hamlet and keeping the farms running was their problem now. Specifically, it is now the problem of the man who led their little fèinne, Fionn mac Morrigan. You took 20% of the coin in the hamlet for the Empire, as well as an item found amongst the spoils that piqued your interest.
>A ring with a dozen rubies carved like roses. Each flickers faintly; with one or more one you can heal yourself for 1d10+3 per light extinguished, with four you can conjure a wall of roses. You must feed it a small amount of life force to restore a charge.
>A teapot that pours hot water without end. A single great wave is painted upon it, as are three clouds. For each cloud, you can create a blanket of fog a hundred feet wide. For the wave, you can have the spout burst with a mighty, boiling geyser that deals 6d6 fire damage and pushed all in a great cone away from you.
>A flask of whiskey that never ends. That is all it does, though it is the good stuff, as they say.
>A cane made for those who invoke relics. A weapon relic can be bound to it, allowing you to draw it from the cane like a scabbard. More importantly, it hides away that you've invoked the weapon from all but the strongest of divinations.
>An axe that can fell a tree in a single swing. No gimmicks, that's all it does.

Now, as you're enjoying your well deserve rest, allowing yourself to be spoiled by your newest revenants, you hear a headache approaching you from outside the room. Frankly, you don't care enough to stop enjoying yourself, even if it might be unbecoming for someone to catch you with your pants down. They can, quite frankly, go kiss the shiniest part of the Liar's ass.

"You don't want to go in there, Ragnar," you hear Martin say through the door.

"Go straight to hell, Martin, I thought I sent your there you old bastard," the impetuous voice of the young Ragnar comes through. He's not someone you want Martin to kill, even if he has an annoying righteous streak a mile wide. "I'm going in there, and I'm going to demand answers! You just try to fucking stop me, see what happens!"

There's a pause as Martin sighs. "If you do anything foolish, you will die, and I will not intervene to save you. Even if you are my favorite pupil."

"I know!" the young man says.

>>6272801
The door slams open, and Ragnar Millstone looks incredibly outraged right up until he comprehends what he sees. See, while he and Martin were getting into their little spat outside, you decided to retract your armor and suppress your bulwark, meaning that your body holds no more secrets from him. Neither do the bodies of the headman's wife or Scion Juniper, for that matter, though their backs are turned to him. The maid - a Miss Holly if you recall her husband's anguished cries when you ran your blade through her - still has her modesty, though the outfit might be a bit off putting.

She feeds you another delicate cut from the slab of veal on your plate, and you slowly chew and swallow. Neither Juniper nor the headman's wife slow in their work despite his interruption. After washing the meat down with a sip of wine, you finally ask Ragnar, "Can I help you?"

He stares straight at your face, trying exceptionally hard not to look anywhere else, and says, "You're doing this to mess with me, aren't you."

"No, I'm doing this because it's my idea of a nice evening, maybe cap it off by having a bit of fun with my new bodyguard," you tell him. Just because you have a powerful lance gifted by the Ravager doesn't mean you're missing anything important, after all. The face Ragnar makes is hilarious, but it goes away when an edge hits your voice. "You're interrupting my nice evening, by the way. So tell me what you need, or go away."

His eyes still glued to you in an exceptional feat of self control, he says, "You and your men... and those fennid from Goldgrain... you butchered everyone."
>Yes, and?
>I told you I'd happily commit atrocities against the enemies of the Empire, what did you expect?
>Not everyone! The women are all in irons awaiting their sale to the Pit! Oh, except the ones who married those fennid fellows.
>You interrupted my nice evening for something that inane?
>What do you care? Erin and her family is safe. Go home, comfort her, enjoy yourself a blissful matrimony. Unlike the scum who died today, you earned that.
>Write in.

>>6272802
Aaaaaaaand here's the full mechanics of the fight between Saligia and Scion Juniper.

Juniper's strong point was attack spam. She does not hit for hard, but once she depleted Saligia's bulwark, she had a very real chance of punch spamming Saligia out of commission. That said, even with max HP, a d8 is a d8 whereas Saligia has a D10, an extra level, and 1 more con. 35/52 is closer to 35/59 as well; a threat, though in all honesty Abigail was probably stronger because - unlike Juniper - she had talent and worked hard.

Now, Saligia hits like a truck. Even moreso against Good entities like Juniper. She also has a NASTY rider on that attack with Festering wounds. Both the expanded effect when she reached level 4 (slow chip damage to anyone who hasn't healed the wound dealt) and the "Fuck you, make a Con save if you want to heal, and if you fail? Fuck you again, you take damage as if struck by the weapon".

The one attack that Saligia landed lost Juniper the fight. Even with the mediocre Smite Good damage, she got fucked harder than Lady Brightspring after a long Friday night.

>>6272801
For the relic:
>A teapot that pours hot water without end. A single great wave is painted upon it, as are three clouds. For each cloud, you can create a blanket of fog a hundred feet wide. For the wave, you can have the spout burst with a mighty, boiling geyser that deals 6d6 fire damage and pushed all in a great cone away from you.

Quick question: does the teapot's spells recharge, or are they single-use only?

Also, did we gift the newly-captured slaves with our blood? I really don't want to make an enemy of Varten by selling him defective/rebellious merchandise.

for Ragnar:
>I told you I'd happily commit atrocities against the enemies of the Empire, what did you expect?
They did rise up against us, tried to kill us (singular), and didn't surrender yesterday when they ought to. They didn't even lay down their arms even when they've clearly lost, so...
>Not everyone! The women are all in irons awaiting their sale to the Pit! Oh, except the ones who married those fennid fellows.
As it should be.
>What do you care? Erin and her family is safe. Go home, comfort her, enjoy yourself a blissful matrimony. Unlike the scum who died today, you earned that.

>>6272801
>A ring with a dozen rubies carved like roses. Each flickers faintly; with one or more one you can heal yourself for 1d10+3 per light extinguished, with four you can conjure a wall of roses. You must feed it a small amount of life force to restore a charge.
lifeforce recharges everyday, right ?
>>6272802
>Just because you have a powerful lance gifted by the Ravager doesn't mean you're missing anything important, after all.
ballless futa

>What do you care? Erin and her family is safe. Go home, comfort her, enjoy yourself a blissful matrimony. Unlike the scum who died today, you earned that.
>>6272803
>Juniper's strong point was attack spam. She does not hit for hard, but once she depleted Saligia's bulwark, she had a very real chance of punch spamming Saligia out of commission.
Interesting, the doot made it seem like it was the armstrong meme

>>6272803
incredible how she managed to get a nat 20 for the final save, but still died to the dmg tic, kek.

>>6272801
Relics in order of preference:
>Cane
Suits our relic invocation build.
>Ring
Free healing without our pet priest or angelborn around (can Juniper still heal as a revenant?) Also, I assume we don't have to be the ones to charge it with life force to use it; that's what prisoners are for.
>Flask
Waterboarding with liquor is funnier than tea.
>Teapot
Then again sometimes boiling water is fine too.

>>6272802
>>I told you I'd happily commit atrocities against the enemies of the Empire, what did you expect?
Though I do wonder what became of the Light Adherents children. They weren't mentioned before and we didn't really think to include sparing any in our orders if they were found (though they were spared in Brightsprings so perhaps it's standard operating procedure).

>>6272801
>>A teapot that pours hot water without end. A single great wave is painted upon it, as are three clouds. For each cloud, you can create a blanket of fog a hundred feet wide. For the wave, you can have the spout burst with a mighty, boiling geyser that deals 6d6 fire damage and pushed all in a great cone away from you.
>I told you I'd happily commit atrocities against the enemies of the Empire, what did you expect?

>>6272807
>Quick question: does the teapot's spells recharge, or are they single-use only?
They recharge at a rate on 1d3 per day for the Clouds, and 1d2-1 per day for the Wave.

>Also, did we gift the newly-captured slaves with our blood? I really don't want to make an enemy of Varten by selling him defective/rebellious merchandise.
No. He would actually prefer that you do not taint them or give them a profane gift, they're more valuable that way. He's a professional, he has his own means of ensuring compliance without any spoilage. A noblewoman is a noblewoman though, would have been better if Brightspring wasn't tainted, but using her for certain rituals was understandable and she'll still fetch a higher price than usual.

>>6272812
>lifeforce recharges everyday, right ?
Right now, you get 4 HD a day to heal yourself during a short rest. So you can recharge up to 4 rubies a day.

>ballless futa
Not quite.

Saligia's lance is similar to one of the relics she can invoke. She can pour essence into it to increase its corruptive effects, and it treated as if it were bound to her blood chakra. She can also suppress it at will, though while it's active it overwrites her normal bits (though not in a way that would interrupt a pregnancy, and it suppresses itself were she to give birth). The biggest difference is that unlike the Blade, the Bulwark, or the Breeches, her Lance is a Fleshwarp rather than a Relic.

That said, I am in the air as to whether she can father children. My immediate thought is no, because she is a tool of corruption, but I am interested in hearing other thoughts.

>>6272812
>Interesting, the doot made it seem like it was the armstrong meme
It's because she kept missing. She was rolling 3 attacks for every 1 attack Saligia took. None of her attacks rolled below a 12 (Saligia's AC without armor), so the fluff I went with was that she hit, but the armor ate the blow and prevented any real damage to Saligia.

In that sense, it was the Armstrong meme. But had her misses hit, Saligia would have been much closer to down.

>>6272881
>Though I do wonder what became of the Light Adherents children. They weren't mentioned before and we didn't really think to include sparing any in our orders if they were found (though they were spared in Brightsprings so perhaps it's standard operating procedure).
Standard Operating Procedure is to secure them, keep them from harm, and let the Magistrate sort them out. The Magistrate will be arriving soon.

Anyways, today is a night I run D&D, so unfortunately no update today. Should be back in action tomorrow.

>>6273119
>while it's active it overwrites her normal bits (though not in a way that would interrupt a pregnancy, and it suppresses itself were she to give birth).
so while it's active, no pussy ? shame

>That said, I am in the air as to whether she can father children. My immediate thought is no, because she is a tool of corruption, but I am interested in hearing other thoughts.
considering we can corrupt people with it, I'd say that either she can or she's only able to make demons with it.

>>6273119
> She can pour essence into it to increase its corruptive effects, and it treated as if it were bound to her blood chakra.

So.... are dreadknights somewhat similar to daevics in that regard?
... Also, just realized, is the quest somewhat influenced by Pathfinder mechanics? Character classes seems to match.

> My immediate thought is no, because she is a tool of corruption, but I am interested in hearing other thoughts.

I'd also say no, and my headcanon is that the particular fleshwarp is quite on the "arcano-" side of the "arcanovascular" spectrum.

>>6272801
>A teapot that pours hot water without end. A single great wave is painted upon it, as are three clouds. For each cloud, you can create a blanket of fog a hundred feet wide. For the wave, you can have the spout burst with a mighty, boiling geyser that deals 6d6 fire damage and pushed all in a great cone away from you.
>What do you care? Erin and her family is safe. Go home, comfort her, enjoy yourself a blissful matrimony. Unlike the scum who died today, you earned that.

>>6273119
>I am in the air as to whether she can father children
>she is a tool of corruption
I mean you COULD argue that corrupting a woman's womb might involve fathering a child of some kind (that and it might be a convenient way to get more dreadknight prospects in the future) and be another step on breaking/twisting her mind/spirit but I worry it might venture too far into the magical realm. It's something you could argue either way and so it's probably best to err on the side of what you're most comfortable with and what's best for the quest.

So can we get a non-hermaphroditic demoness protag in the future? Asking for a friend.

>>6273512
Given we're corrupting folks just fine without the "fathering children" part I'm not seeing why it'd be needed, and apparently the demonforge is a completely separate process altogether.

I'd rather consider it an implanted organ(?) designed to release a magical mutagen, if just for the sake of my sanity.

>>6273615
Yeah, just saying an argument could be made; occasionally gotta play devil's advocate

>>6273119
>That said, I am in the air as to whether she can father children. My immediate thought is no, because she is a tool of corruption, but I am interested in hearing other thoughts.
It should be a possibility, yes.

Caught up, good evil quest.

>Not everyone! The women are all in irons awaiting their sale to the Pit! Oh, except the ones who married those fennid fellows.

I'll go for
>the Cane

>>6273191
>so while it's active, no pussy ?
Yes, that is correct. She can give or she can take, but not at the same time (excepting butt stuff).
>>6273204
>So.... are dreadknights somewhat similar to daevics in that regard?
>... Also, just realized, is the quest somewhat influenced by Pathfinder mechanics? Character classes seems to match.
You caught me! I'm using a mix of D&D 5E as the base, with some abilities from Pathfinder's extensive 3rd Party stuff thrown in for spice. Relics = Veils. She has a Relic progression where:
>Her base essence is 3/4 her level before feats
>She gets a new Relic every odd level
>She gets a new bind every even level, in the order: Hands, Feet, Head, Wrists, Headband, Shoulders, Belt, Neck, Chest, Body
Her lance is basically the Ravager using the "Bestow Relic" feat on her, but permanently as a one off fleshwarp veil (so it's not astral, it's part of her body, but she can suppress it).
>I'd also say no, and my headcanon is that the particular fleshwarp is quite on the "arcano-" side of the "arcanovascular" spectrum.
Sentiment seems on the side of my initial "nah, it's just a tool for corruption" thoughts. That said, the Arcanovascular system is a part of a person's biology, it's just typically not visible on normal spectra unless you have a large amount of Holy, Unholy, Arcane, Primal, Void, or Abyssal energy.

Holy is usually aligned with "Good."
Unholy is usually aligned with "Evil."
Primal is usually aligned with "Chaos."
Arcane is usually aligned with "Law."
Void is emptiness/nothingness.
Abyssal is vast and incomprehensibly many.
>>6273533
>So can we get a non-hermaphroditic demoness protag in the future?
Protag? No. Ally? Yes.

"I told you that I'd happily commit atrocities against the enemies of the Empire, what did you expect?" You ask. Your hand absentmindedly strokes the hair of the two women attending you, letting them know that they don't need to stop for this petty interruption. "For me to spare the men who sought me dead and refused to lay down their arms, fighting to the last man with the suicidal ferocity of a zealot? The priests in this land, I hate everything they stand for, but I must respect their ability to convince ordinary folk to fight for nothing but the false promise of a life after death..."

Well that's unfair.

The dozen or so who fell to your blade did get to live after death, as revenants in your army.

"I suppose you would believe that," Ragnar growls. He twitches angrily, reminding you that he is a believer in Luminare, which is unfortunately legal in this border territory, so long as the believers don't proselytize or preach against the Divider Lords. It was Kettleburn and his methods that the young man opposed. "What of the children? I've seen women among the corpse pile or clinging to Fionn and his fian, but what have you done with my neighbors' sons and daughters?"

You let out a sigh, and it's not one of pleasure at the work of Juniper and the headman's wife. Dealing with the hamlet's children was the biggest headache of the afternoon, and one of the reasons why you retired for an evening of debauchery. "Fionn and his fian have generously offered to raise the swaddling babes as their own, with the help of their new wives. The rest are being held with the surviving women, to be moved back to Brightsprings on the morrow."

Ragnar's anger settles, slightly. He gives a rather disgusted look at what's become of the scion and the headman's wife. "I wasn't aware any of the women survived, besides the fian's wives and your... pets. What is to become of them and the children?"

You level a gaze at him that makes him stumble back a step.

Humoring his requests while he tried not to stare at your tits or the revenant women shower your lower body with their sloppy affections was amusing. Now that he's acclimated to the scene and can expression judgment of you, it's suddenly become irritating. There are precisely three people in the world who you answer to, and this boy is not one of them.

"Why do you care?" you growl. You take your frustration out on poor Juniper, holding her deep against your crotch until she starts choking and relishing the desperate gasp she makes when you finally let her go.

"What?" he seems taken aback. Both at your sudden violent treatment of your revenants, and at the question itself. "Why wouldn't I care? These people were my neighbors! Even if this rebellion was stupid, even if they let the adventurers hurt Erin... you can't expect me to just-"

"I can, and I will," you tell him. "You have more important things to do than check into the wellbeing of rotten traitors like them, don't you?"

>>6274320
"Like what?!" he demands to know.

You stare daggers at him again, the languid expressions of pleasure having entirely slipped away from your face despite both Juniper and the headman's wife greedily going at every inch of you with their tongues. "The matter of your clemency, for one. Your actions have proved you worthy of a second chance, but there are still assurances that the Empire would have from you. And then there's poor Miss Erin..."

"What of her?" Ragnar's voice is sharp and demanding, his desire to protect that young woman clear in his tone. "Did you learn something from the adventurers before killing them? Was some sort of curse laid upon her? Did you-"

You chuckle at the young man's reaction. So easily deflected from his previous concerns about his neighbors, when the wellbeing of his love came up. Of course, his face twists into a snarl, but you wave this boyish anger off and tell him, "Oh I'm sure she's as fine as she can be. But won't she be missing her handsome savior? I know that if I were in her position, I would want to shower my rescuer with every affection a woman can give a man~ Did you at least kiss her before you ran away to talk to another woman~?"

"I- she's not...!" Ragnar's face has turned an amusing shade of cherry red. He points an accusing finger at you and the revenants attending to your needs. "She's definitely not like you or those rotten adventurers. That sort of thing should wait for marriage!"

You disagree, but you suppose country folk value those rituals more than the pit-born daughter of a whore would. "Very well! You have my blessing as interim governor of these lands to take Miss Erin to wife in the eyes of the Lawmaker. Marry her, shower her with affection, and put a dozen babies in her."

Ragnar chokes out a cough at that last part. "Is... is that an order?"

"Yes," you tell him. Amusement has returned to your voice as he stays on the back foot. "Though that is not the assurance of loyalty I need from you today. Holly, if you would?"

Ragnar eyes you strangely as you offer your wrist to the revenant maid standing at your side. With a wordless nod, Holly cleans the knife she'd been using to cut your meat and slices open your wrist. Her skills as a housewife and maid become readily apparent here, as not a drop of your blood is spilled onto the tablecloth. All of it is caught within a silver chalice from the moment it starts pouring from your body to the moment your wrist is wrapped with a bandage.

Holly then pours wine into the chalice, stirring it together with your blood until it is suffused throughout the expensive drink. Wordlessly, she approaches Ragnar with the chalice and offers it to him.

>>6274322
"This is my blood. To drink of it is to reaffirm your loyalty to the Empire, and to accept the forgiveness for what crimes you have committed that hath been offered in exchange," you explain. He takes the cup, but he eyes the chalice suspiciously, not trusting the drink within. With a sigh, you tell him, "You have my assurances that the children are unharmed and that the Empire has no nefarious plans for them. When the magistrate arrives in Brightsprings, he will make arrangements for their care and education."

With a nod at that, he downs the chalice and immediately hisses in fleeting pain. The pact that he entered with you quickly spreads through his body, enhancing his vitality towards the peak of human endurance. A mark appears above his heart, in the shale of your personal sigil writ in black. "Your assurances lighten my heart. Might I ask: what of the women?"

"Those taken by Fionn and his men as brides will have their freedom just as you have," you tell him. So, the unmarried women who were there for their families, and not supporting their husbands' foolishness. Fionn even took three of them to wife, a number that pleases the Debaucher. "I have claimed Juniper, Holly, and... I don't know this woman's name, I think I'll call her Lupa."

"Her name is-" Ragnar starts, but he missed the point.

"Lupa," you insist. After all, it's only right that you've made the wife of the rebellious headman your bitch.

"Right..." he doesn't go against you on this. "And the rest?"

"Those who survived the battle shall find a way to serve the Empire," you tell him. "They have lost the privileges afforded the serf and the citizen, and shall from now on be slaves. I will promise nothing of their treatment, for not only shall that be the decision of their masters, but - quite frankly - I do not care what fate the traitor and the heretic receive."

Ragnar's eye twitches for a moment when you say the word heretic... but now that he's imbibed of your blood, and shall soon wed a goodly woman who keeps to the Divider Lords, that annoying trait will leave him soon enough. "May I have your permission to... browse? With my sisters marrying Conor and Daire, Erin and I would need help keeping my family estate in order."

A frown crosses your face that even Juniper and Lupa's tender affections cannot keep away. After a moment of contemplation, you decide to pay Dormandal's kindness to you forward. "If you've family among the captives, I will happily release them to you in recognition of you deeds. They would need accept the same pact you have, but beyond that-"

Ragnar gives you a wry smile and shakes his head. "No need. Mother and father passed of plague some time ago, it's just been me, Lizzie, and Sasha. Lizzie's been sweet on Conor for years now, and Sasha's not unhappy with Daire. Two people just won't be enough..."

>>6274323
A smile spreads across your face as he looks at Holly with red-tinted ears. "Don't worry, the Lawmaker permits men to take multiple wives. You can have your maid and eat her too~"

"That's not-!" he insists, but you wave him off.

"Off with you!" you shoo him out of the room. Holly specifically pushing him back through the door, Ragnar unable to resist a woman in a maid outfit apparently. The sight of which makes Martin laugh on the other side of the door. "Go find a pretty young lady to polish your pole when dear Erin isn't feeling up to it. You're a handsome enough lad that I'm sure none of them will complain about being your slave~"

"But I-" Ragnar tries to defend himself, but Martin cuts him off.

"You heard Lady Clearwater!" Martin chides, his voice deep and echoing with the unholy magics that keep him alive. "Go pick out a pretty lass who can help ease dear Erin's burdens! I don't think any of Fionn's boys picked up Seras, wasn't she making moon eyes at you for-"

"Shut your mouth old man!" Ragnar shouts, and you hear his footfalls retreat from the hall.

Which means, finally, you can properly finish your damn steak and move on to the meal's main course. All three of your newest revenants at once, atop the headman's wedding bed. Especially Lupa, there's something special about having your way with a traitor's wife and making her scream your name on the bed that she once shared with her husband. That will make for a sweet desert for today's victory.

=================

>>6274324
Ever the dutiful maid, Holly woke you just before the crack of dawn in that most delightful way that every man dreams of his wife waking him with. Except she's using a sleepy looking Lupa's mouth instead of her own, a spark of personality glimmering behind the soulless and blank expression of her eyes. Once she finishes up, you let her bully Lupa for a while longer while stirring Juniper awake in your own rough way.

By the time you finish with the three of them, the sun is up and you steal some time for a shower. You pass by Martin, who has his hand draped around the shoulder of one of the few female warriors of the village. She's a bit too mannish for your taste in women - which is why you didn't claim her - but Martin is quite pleased with her from the looks of things.

Well, to each their own.

Current Forces in the Field
>High Revenant: Martin Aurelion
>Awakened Revenant: Detlev Eisenmaul
>Skeleton Commander of the 4th Company
>Revenants: 15
>Skeletons: 23

Current Entourage (Non Combatants)
>Juniper (Reserved to become a Demonforge)
>Holly (Maid, Concubine)
>Lupa (Concubine)
>Skeletal Squire

Current Captives
>Women (to Sell): 17
>Children (to Foster): 22

Circumstances have changed. You need to figure out how to deal with the captives before moving on to your next goal. Plus all of those bodies, to be used by Dormandal to add to your forces...
>Bring them back to Brightsprings yourself and consolidate your forces there before deciding your next move.
>Have Martin escort them to Brightsprings with the 4th company. Your revenants can take things from here.
>Have Ragnar escort them to Brightsprings with the 4th company as a test of his loyalty. You want to keep Martin at your side for now.
>Leave them here in the village with Martin and half the skeletons to defend them.
>Leave them here in the village with half the skeletons to defend them.
>Write in.

>>6274325
>Ask Coin about any further plots waiting for you on your tour
>Have Martin escort them to Brightsprings with the 4th company. Your revenants can take things from here.
>Carry on with tour

>>6274325
>Have Martin escort them to Brightsprings with the 4th company. Your revenants can take things from here.
>Ask the coin about any ambushes awaiting us.
Man, we're living the dream.

>>6274325
Ragnar should stay in the city he is now in charge of

>Have Martin escort them to Brightsprings with the 4th company. Your revenants can take things from here.
he'd be a good 2IC to keep around in Brightsprings to protect our interests in our absence

>>6274325
>>6274377
+1

>>6274325
>>Have Martin escort them to Brightsprings with the 4th company. Your revenants can take things from here.

>Have Martin escort them to Brightsprings with the 4th company. Your revenants can take things from here.

>>6274377
+1 to this option

>>6274325
>Bring them back to Brightsprings yourself and consolidate your forces there before deciding your next move.

>>6274325
>Ask Coin about any further plots waiting for you on your tour
>Have Martin escort them to Brightsprings with the 4th company. Your revenants can take things from here.

>>6274325
QM?

>>6276064
spell dreadknight quest but without the r and the knight

>>6276140
Nah, just remove the "r"; rolls off the tongue better.

>>6276064
>>6276140
>>6276142
I live, just distracted by life the universe and everything. The moment I think I have time to do things, work comes and kicks me in the ass.

>>6276765
it's ok, at least you came back

>>6276765
>life the universe and everything
I heard somewhere the answer is 42; the actual number might be an order of magnitude higher though.

Eh, good to see you back. Give us a shout if you think we should begin archiving, though.

You send the captives back to Brightsprings with Martin and the 4th Company.

Martin leads the procession upon a pale horse, the same sort of lesser variant that you bestowed upon Detlev for the operation to seize this village. The women have to proceed on foot, while the children ride along in a mule-drawn cart with that mannish revenant woman Martin took to bed last night. Fourteen fighting revenants is not so much less than fifteen that you'd begrudge a capable second in command a warm and affectionate adjutant.

Besides, her presence keeps the children in the wagon calm. They all chirp something or other about her being their big sister, and while she doesn't have enough personality to speak anymore, she kept enough of her old self to provide them with the requisite number of headpats and hair tussles.

As amusing as it is to see the traitor women piss themselves in fright, surrounded by the fearsome bone boys of the 4th Company, you want to make sure the kids aren't frightened.

Protecting the smiles of children is not why you signed up to be a Dreadknight, but crying kids are both annoying and would make you feel bad in your triumph.

Only one of the traitors doesn't go with the procession. You smirk at young Ragnar's choice of housekeeper and nothing more. A fluffy eared wolfkin woman about his age who looks very fetching in the maid outfit and bright red leather collar than she now wears. Especially with how her bosom stretches the fabric to its limits, her generous endowments each easily the size of her head - if not larger. Her blue-black hair is perhaps a bit wild, and her brown eyes seem possessed with constant worry, though in your opinion that simply accentuates her natural charm.

"Oh my," you tell him. "Miss Erin's going to be jealous, isn't she?"

"I didn't buy her for that," Ragnar sounds offended as he hands you the agreed upon price. A thousand silver denarii is a steal for such a beautiful slavegirl. In the pits, to the right buyer, she could go for twice that much, perhaps even ten times to a rich client who wanted to touch fluffy tail. Giving men power over beautiful women is always a good reward for loyalty, and Ragnar has shown that - and the courage to speak up with he disagrees, a skill even more rare. "She's an old friend, and I'm only doing this to protect her from the consequences of her parents' foolishness."

"Is that right...?" you tease, eying the young woman. A wolfkin overflowing with youthful vigor. She withers under your gaze... and blushes whenever her eyes find Ragnar. You'll give him until her first heat cycle before the two of them are going at it like rabbits. Mercy unto Ragnar, that Miss Erin was strong enough in her beliefs in the Divider Lords' teachings to condemn the rebels and be punished for it. "Well, I'll leave you to your estate. Make sure to work with to Headman Fionn... and do inform me if he gets up to any youthful foolishness?"

>>6277126
You leave the hamlet of Emberheart in the capable hands of young Fionn and his fennid. It will be up to them to rebuild the farming community and continue the cultivation of its lands, a big task for such a small group of men and the wives they took in battle. Once proper supply lines have been established with the Pit of Beleth, you promise Fionn that you'll send some Skeletal Laborers for them to oversee.

"There will be no need, Lady Dreadknight," Fionn assures you with a bow. "In my youth I traveled far. To the mountains north of Oliver's Rest, where I ate of the Salmon of Wisdom. To the Pit of Beleth in the south east, where I learned many things of sorcery and necromancy. Allow me to demonstrate!"

With a flourish, he unfurls a large cloth that hid the bones of several animals.

The skull and torso of a stag, the arms and legs of an ape. The three young women who had been clinging to him (and giving you something of a stink eye) - the wives he took after the battle concluded - recoil slightly at the sight of the polished, bleached bone. Drawing a dagger from his side that glowed blue with arcane power, he pricks his finger, and a small stream of blood flows out of his finger and into the bones

"I aim to be a capable vassal, who gives more to his liege lady than he receives in aid," he tells you as the bones rise into a burly, stag-headed skeleton. Not as durable as your iron-clad bone lads, but a step above the ordinary human skeleton. "In thanks for giving my friends land to settle, and the opportunity to take such lovely women as our companions in life, I swear you this: my loyalty shall forever lie with the House of Clearwater. I shall make use of every skill and piece of wisdom I have obtained to enrich the lands you see fit to grant me, and see them kept safe from your enemies."

With oaths sworn and a few more stagheads raised to cultivate the land, you leave Fionn to enjoy his married life. His three wives certainly seem to enjoy him, though that's almost certainly because he's an exceptionally handsome man. Not the sort of burly domineering fellow you'd be interested in, but you cannot deny his good looks.

The coin promises that there are no immediate plans from Kettleburn against you.

This may have been his big shot to kill you, or he may be awaiting news of the battle before determining his next move. What this doesn't tell you is if you've completely exhausted the adventurers in the area; simply that there are no large ambushes planned on the scale of Emberheart for now.

With Emberheart secured, you can head off in a number of directions.
>Follow the main roads west, back towards Brightsprings and the great tunnel to Oliver's Rest.
>Follow the main roads east, towards the Whisperlode Mine.
>Follow along the river-roads south, towards Glimmertown, where reinforcements will eventually come from
>Follow along the river-roads north, towards the border with the Thornlands.