Thread 6290129

You are Fiona Jarnafeldt, L2S Trollslayer, and you are in serious trouble.

Today you were deployed on a mission to save dozens of kidnapped citizens from the starving squatter city under Helsinki. You saved dozens from a sect of cannibals, only to come across a strange realization; they may have been receiving aid from a rogue government agent who wanted nothing but to see the system you work for destroyed. This rogue agent, a living tree by the name of Zephyr, operated within the Stormdrain to provide... something to the underdwellers. Information, probably.

Maybe it was him that helped pull strings to delete camera logs. Covered the tracks of the thieves. Maybe he even told them about what was carried on a train that came into Helsinki the month before you joined, causing a battle that killed dozens of Stormwatch members.

On the train was a suit of pneumatic powered armor, fashioned from kevlar and carbon fiber components from the stormy city of Chicago by their advanced heavy robotics division. This suit was made exclusively for an elite member of the Stormwatch of lanky proportions. The intended owner, L4 Nonoka Sumika, has an unusual and atypically tall and thin stature that should have made it so, even if stolen, no regularly shaped human could be able to wear it without so much modification that it couldn't work.

And yet, that suit stands in front of you, fully operational, standing eight feet tall, its broad hat casting a black shadow over the thing that has come to possess it.

That thing is an aberration of humanity, that goes by the name of "She." Given its stature, it would be rated as a Troll, but being armored in what it is, it's far more dangerous than its class suggests. Though sources had claimed She was a Finnish river spirit by the name called a Nakki, this is something else entirely. The sensation of water observed by others was misinformation gleaned from the pneumatic exhaust of subliminated hydrogen radiating from the suit and sound She seems to keep uttering, a verbal tick similar to the sound of residual hydrogen mixing with air to form water.

Po, po, po.

Previous threads: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Solarpunk%20Cleanup%20Agent%20Quest
Google doc: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1jhZljN9y7A8w6qFcD8wX_xYaKZP65ZH8EGrmgKQ-nIU/edit?usp=sharing

Today, Fiona is stuck between a wall and a horrible, horrible place! How will she get out of this one? What else waits in store? Forget about her, will anyone escape?
______

>>6290129 (OP)
Besides having a set of military-grade experimental power armor, you're aware that this troll is a figure of significant importance in the city underneath Helsinki. She is the current head of an undercity orphanage, a rather mundane-sounding position until you consider that the Helsinki Stormwatch have been killing trolls and squatters in the stormdrains for decades, maybe even longer. Even worse, some civilians may have children outside of the law and abandon their children down here. While She is not explicitly a leader, many fighting-age squatters view her as one of the closest thing they ever had to a mother.

With wide eyes which you can only spy the whites, She ogles you, disconcertingly. She exudes a terrifying presence that creeps down your spine. Like long sharp fingernails dragging down your back. So very close to human. Almost familiar, even. All until you realize it's underneath the skin, running across the vertebrae themselves. Deep in your bones, you feel this thing should be nowhere near a child.

Even looking at this aberration is causing some strange effects. Your ears feel like they have water in them. Like they are ringing, but a deep ring, a bassy ring, a low tone. The only thing else you hear are the panicked screams of others, and the radio occasionally cutting in - "DO NOT ENGAGE, I REPEAT, DO NOT ENGAGE, I REPEAT-"

You've seen more horrific things before, plenty of times! Mountains of spongy flesh bleeding pink pus. Aberrant men that looked downright demonic. You've made heads and tails of living trees whose physiology defeats all forms of digital detection on the planet. You've seen what all these things look like when you're done cutting them up. They're all disgusting. This is just something that's mildly human, a big scary woman. Why does this thing just... assault your senses?

The greatsword in your hands glows as a warning. This weapon is a gift from your mother that is host to a swarm of nanomachines with a mind all their own, and they are likeminded in their aversion. But they do not shirk in disgust or scream in fear. You get the sense that they seem ready to stand their ground. Their presence bats away the horror of this monstrosity.

>>6290137
The troll stands head and shoulders above a crowd of naked civilians, stumbling with cut heels to safety out of a makeshift animal pen. The people who would be cattle swarm around her like a tide, as she eyes you up and down.

Your mentor, L3 Lalli Kiikoinen, is visible once the crowd thins out past her. Tension and apprehension is pressed deep into his face.

Your colleague, L2 Saemus Fahy, is beside you. There's a certain fiendish glint to his eyes that you don't quite like.

Your comms are screaming with multiple overlaying voices. You've tuned them all out. Your mind is too busy racing with its next choice.

"Po," she mutters, raising a face mask as she waits for the crowd to thin.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e8bsD1w6DHo

There is so much noise you cannot hear anyone else.
>Make an engagement! You three are flanking her! [Engage, 9d8 - Caution, 5d8]
>Open a dialogue! Anything you can get out of a high value target such as She is worth something. She's on camera, and on mic.
>Run back inside! You can find another way out!

>>6290137
>Run back inside! You can find another way out!

Fly you fools!

>>6290140
>>Open a dialogue! Anything you can get out of a high value target such as She is worth something. She's on camera, and on mic.

>>6290140
>Open a dialogue! Anything you can get out of a high value target such as She is worth something. She's on camera, and on mic.
They said not to engage, so let's not engage. Maybe ask how someone who cares about children could defend an operation like this, which surely creates orphans as well... Maybe even kills children for meat.

Welcome back, QM!

>>6290279
+1

>>6290279
It's good to be back!
Anyway, votes tallied.

It's a gamble, certainly, but there is time enough for one question before the swarm of people dies down and the area is clear. Anything else might be pressing her patience for time she would not want to give you. There's no telling if she will believe your question is worth a response, either. Either ask a good question, or get a quick answer.
>"You're no Nakki. Just what are you? What brought you here?" (Query)
>"I found your school outside the city's borders. You can live in peace outside the city. Why don't you just go back outside the walls and fend for yourselves instead of resorting to this?" (Interview)
>"There were a handful of children among the hostages! How can you defend these cannibals when you care after orphans yourself!?" (Interrogate)
>"Since the surface kids got away, I think you'll have to settle with cooking your orphans instead." (Disrespectfully Provoke)
>Write-in

>>6290644
>"I found your school outside the city's borders. You can live in peace outside the city. Why don't you just go back outside the walls and fend for yourselves instead of resorting to this?" (Interview)
Use the school detail here, it's useless info otherwise

>>6290644
>"You're no Nakki. Just what are you? What brought you here?" (Query)

Useful question.

>>6290644
>>"There were a handful of children among the hostages! How can you defend these cannibals when you care after orphans yourself!?" (Interrogate)

>>6290644
>>"There were a handful of children among the hostages! How can you defend these cannibals when you care after orphans yourself!?" (Interrogate)

Closing the votes, writing!

>>6290644
>"There were a handful of children among the hostages! How can you defend these cannibals when you care after orphans yourself!?" (Interrogate)

>>6290758
>>6290828
>>6290954
This is a stretch.

A big stretch.

But as She stands in the middle of the animal pen, steam from pneumatics still drifting from her thrusters as she leapt over a building to cut you off, She moves her leg aside, making way for a child to slip past her.

Every one of your allies is forming plans and strategies, ready to launch on a hair-trigger.

But you have a different idea.

"You care after orphans, don't you?" Your words come out, stumbling before finding their stride. Around the "How could you stand by and let things like this happen?! You're going to defend this?"

All of the eyes lock on you. The air filled with the clamor of screaming and splashing as injured civilians yelp in pain as they saunter across the rice paddy. This idea was not as full of audacity as tilting at her, but this was something that nobody was even considering. Kiikoinen wants to get out. Fahy has this thing with proving himself. An exchange was not something they even cared for.

And indeed, it did give her pause. She chuckled, and reached into her pocket, withdrawing an object and passing it at you with an underhand lob.

The object didn't seem like any manner of weapon or bomb or something, so you caught and examined the thing.

It's a 1300 calorie protein liquid meal, processed locally here in Helsinki, enough to sate a fully grown adult man an entire day's sustenance. It's cheap, and the brand that the Stormwatch gives. Chocolate flavored.

What it is made of is no secret by any means.

>>6291017
It's actually common knowledge. Mother Nature's Providence decreed that it is time that humanity should give back what little they can when they take so much from the world. And people aren't as fond of the dramatics of sky burial.

When people die in Helsinki, they aren't buried nor burned. Their bodies are taken to a facility in the north end of town, where they are processed into nutrients. Bodies are recycled in many ways.

And this isn't limited to civilians at all. Bodies are left behind after all of your missions in the Stormdrains. Most of these are retrieved. The proteins of squatters, and even aberrations when processed properly, aren't any more or less poisonous than a normal human's. And the packaging, though potentially litter, preserves it for weeks, months. Sometimes it's even good for years, and when it goes bad, you can just send it back to be cleaned up, salvaged, and recycled.

The coffins dug up in Zephyr's grove contained one person each. In your hands, you hold a cramped casket. Perhaps some died weeks ago. Or years, even.

Thousands are produced to meet the needs of Helsinki's citizenry. Daily.

You look back at her. Her widely opened eyes have lowered their upper lids. She looks exhausted, more than anything. She does not verbalize a reply to you, but you think you understood what she was thinking.

This is no bridge too far. Not for you nor anyone.

>>6291018
"You gonna drink that?" Saemus asks casually, tearing you from your thought and back to reality. As the manhunter snatching the bottle from your hand at a speed that was horrifying, you are reminded he is wearing that vampiric Undercroft E1 suit. After a sip he casts you a sly grin. "Let's slip out the back?"

From behind the troll, Kiikoinen is frantically pointing to your left, and then gesturing to himself and pointing the same way. Run through the kitchen, I'll meet with you.

She steps forward. Her every footfall collapses the wet ground beneather her massive boots, making the concept of walking in this slop an arduous one.

But walking isn't something that She has to do.

Vents in her armor flick open, as she leans forward, assuming a tense, controlled stance-

She is about to boost right at you.

Choose one.
>Follow Kiikoinen's orders and run through the establishment to meet him somewhere that way.
>Fahy has a ranged weapon and a suit, he can draw attention and get away with it, which should keep you safe enough.
>Brace the sword and skewer her on it, you make your stand here. (Brave, 13d8t????)

>>6291019
>Follow Kiikoinen's orders and run through the establishment to meet him somewhere that way.

I trust the plan.

>>6291050
+1

>>6291018
Absolutely BRUTAL worldbuilding post

>>6291017
>>6291018
...Oh. I see. We're ALL cannibals. Well, that changes things.

>>6291019
>Follow Kiikoinen's orders and run through the establishment to meet him somewhere that way.

>>6291019
I like how you are doing the reveals, we're firmly relating to the characters before things get wierd. Very nice.

>>6291018
>This is no bridge too far. Not for you nor anyone.
eeeeh, that's not really a counterargument
recycling corpses is very different from farming people, one is opportunistic, the other seeks out
especially as people are one of the least efficient farm animals
chicken would be near the top, bugs behind them, both should be relatively easily available, and worst part of human farms, you can't even upcycle nutrients that you wouldn't be able to eat (as with chicken and bugs), because humans share a diet, so you aren't even farming, you're just wasting what food you have and exchanging it for less
now there is a factor of maybe the trolls need human flesh, and while that's acceptable, they are, seemingly, a small part of who the farm supplies
ideally, you'd just hunt on the side exclusively for the trolls, something which is clearly already happening as the farm has people who didn't grew up there, while using the farm for actually efficient animals

in other words, our argument of questioning her needless cruelty, one that seems to go even against what little principles she seems to have, she responds with
>your society isn't better because it does something equivalent (it's not)
not addressing the actual argument from neither the moral, nor the practical side

effectively, the big bitch told us "NO U!" while not addressing anything and also just being wrong

>>6291019
>Follow Kiikoinen's orders and run through the establishment to meet him somewhere that way.

>>6291138
Unless MNP isn't just recycling corpses.

>>6291138
>worst part of human farms, you can't even upcycle nutrients that you wouldn't be able to eat (as with chicken and bugs), because humans share a diet, so you aren't even farming, you're just wasting what food you have and exchanging it for less
Imagine if Fiona randomly blurts out something to this effect to She in the middle of the fight. Wasn't Fiona from a small German village? You'd think even with her hunter grandpa she might know a thing or two about farming, enough to come up with this retort in the middle of a tense combat situation? Could it stunlock She long enough to make her escape through the kitchen much more successful?

>>6291244
Kek, worth a go.

>>6291234
But there is also this. OOC, we know that the elites in Rome allow/encourage overpopulation, as part of the scheme whereby they've continued (or reinvented) the life-extending organ-harvesting operation from Omer Rothschild's day.

In-character, it does take the sting out of our moral disgust: we are also killing and eating people. probably creating orphans, too, come to think of it...

>>6291019
>>Follow Kiikoinen's orders and run through the establishment to meet him somewhere that way.

>>6291019
>>Brace the sword and skewer her on it, you make your stand here. (Brave, 13d8t????)
I know Kiikoinen has a plan.
but I trust the sword
its time for the river to run dry.

>>6291266
>In-character, it does take the sting out of our moral disgust: we are also killing and eating people.
Eating people? yeah, when someone dies their corpse doesn't go to waste, but that's normal in this world, there is nothing immoral about it
killing people to eat them? that's different, Fiona hasn't become aware of any human farms on her side

Fiona does know that stormwatch (and herself) kills when it needs to, humans included, but it doesn't kill for the sake of killing, or for the sake of making a corpse to eat

and as for Fiona's actual argument, that is the immorality of killing children, and killing children to eat them, Fiona herself is opposed to killing any children, so she does have a moral high ground, as she is even against stormwatch in this regard

thus, her moral disgust against specifically killing children was not addressed by the PoPo women, and should burn just as strong, if not stronger
especially since the PoPo is, in a way, a mirror of Fiona, doing anything to protect children in her care, even going against stormwatch
if Fiona went rogue, she would probably end up in a very similar spot
that mirror quality makes the child killing much worse, as on some level, Fiona can likely relate to PoPo's position, making the part that she cannot accept that much harsher contrast


now thinking about the world from the reader perspective, there is the question of what happens if an illegal child is made on accident, and the parent wants to stay in the safe society
I could see there being a system for either aborting that child, or killing it after birth, with the body then being subsequently recycled into nutrients
that would get closer in morality to what is happening here, but still not quite, as the intent isn't there, the intent for the system is not the farm children and kill them, which does matter for morality

also, from information that is availible to specifically readers, we could argue that the whole system could be viewed as the farm for elites, with children very much included, and while I would agree with that, Fiona doesn't know even a smidge of that

>>6291796
>killing people to eat them? that's different, Fiona hasn't become aware of any human farms on her side
Well, she's aware that the people she and her coworkers kill get eaten. The distinction between killing people TO eat them and killing people fr other reasons who are THEN eaten is a bit academic for most people.

>her moral disgust against specifically killing children was not addressed by the PoPo women, and should burn just as strong, if not stronger
This is a fair point. Children are very specifically important to both of them.

>>6291050
>>6291080
>>6291104
>>6291138
Though She doesn't exactly rationalize her stance on the children whose abuse the orphanage matron is in some way supporting, you don't imagine She wishes to give you any words on the subject.

She is here to kill you, after all.

Kiikoinen has nearly ten years of experience and he is the one telling you to run.

Regardless, the first course of action in this situation. You look at Fahy to your right and reach a silent agreement.

The thrusters on the power armor begin to fire in a constant stream capable of lifting itself out of the muck and build up speed at you. In perfect synchronization, you and Fahy twist to the left and right of the opened farm doors and slam the doors shut right in her face. She slams against the wood, shattering much of the boards, and bending the metal frame at the top holding the mechanism that lets the doors slide. This massive impact of She slamming into the doors effectively jammed it on its own.

As you take a step back to judge how well it will hold, Fahy immediately sprints to a door opposite that opens to the street and dropkicks the lock securing the door shut, breaking the wood connecting all of it. Even with the Undercroft muscle suit, him charging at the door did not do so much structural damage as to damage this door's sliding frame. In that moment, a fist effortlessly smashes through the frame, and grasps the jammed door edge from the inside, and you realize it's time to start running.

You bolt through the killing floor, sword in hand, bashing aside any obstacles in your way with the pommel of your sword. Finally, you can start picking up words on your radio. Not all of them are people you're familiar with.

One stern voice of authority believe he is in the position to give you orders. "Agents, get us visual confirmation on their face. We have several security agents with enhanced imaging software to-"
Another voice, one you are wholly unfamiliar with, chimes in. "No, we just trained them, we need hands to take down Lorppo, we are not risking it."
"If this thing has any presence on the surface as a documented citizen, will do us much better to hunt them down in dayli-"
"Katriina Jousten wants them alive! Commissioner, these agents are valuable assets, not pawns, and much less yours!"
"What the hell is this kid on?!" Chimes a third party. "Is this footage catching up from a delay?"

The moment it was found that She was on camera, your mission has gained a lot of spectators. You can't pick out your operator Hotakainen's voice in the mess, much less Kiikoinen's. Sigrun, however-

"THIS IS A LIVE MISSION CHANNEL! Keep your peanut gallery commentary out of our ears or I will have you pinned for deliberate sabotage of Stormwatch operations!"

>>6291050
>>6291080
>>6291104
>>6291138
Though She doesn't exactly rationalize her stance on the children whose abuse the orphanage matron is in some way supporting, you don't imagine She wishes to give you any words on the subject.

She is here to kill you, after all.

Kiikoinen has nearly ten years of experience and he is the one telling you to run.

Regardless, the first course of action in this situation. You look at Fahy to your right and reach a silent agreement.

The thrusters on the power armor begin to fire in a constant stream capable of lifting itself out of the muck and build up speed at you. In perfect synchronization, you and Fahy twist to the left and right of the opened farm doors and slam the doors shut right in her face. She slams against the wood, shattering much of the boards, and bending the metal frame at the top holding the mechanism that lets the doors slide. This massive impact of She slamming into the doors effectively jammed it on its own.

As you take a step back to judge how well it will hold, Fahy immediately sprints to a door opposite that opens to the street and dropkicks the lock securing the door shut, breaking the wood connecting all of it. Even with the Undercroft muscle suit, him charging at the door did not do so much structural damage as to damage this door's sliding frame. In that moment, a fist effortlessly smashes through the frame, and grasps the jammed door edge from the inside, and you realize it's time to start running.

You bolt through the killing floor, sword in hand, bashing aside any obstacles in your way with the pommel of your sword. Finally, you can start picking up words on your radio. Not all of them are people you're familiar with.

One stern voice of authority believe he is in the position to give you orders. "Agents, get us visual confirmation on their face. We have several security agents with enhanced imaging software to-"
Another voice, one you are wholly unfamiliar with, chimes in. "No, we just trained them, we need hands to take down Lorppo, we are not risking it."
"If this thing has any presence on the surface as a documented citizen, will do us much better to hunt them down in dayli-"
"Katriina Jousten wants them alive! Commissioner, these agents are valuable assets, not pawns, and much less yours!"
"What the hell is this kid on?!" Chimes a third party. "Is this footage catching up from a delay?"

The moment it was found that She was on camera, your mission has gained a lot of spectators. You can't pick out your operator Hotakainen's voice in the mess, much less Kiikoinen's.

Sigrun, however-

"THIS IS A LIVE MISSION CHANNEL! Keep your peanut gallery commentary out of our ears, or I will have you pinned for deliberate sabotage of Stormwatch operations!"

A font of precisely-aimed hatred as ever.

>>6292858
While all this buffoonery was happening in the voice chat, you stumble your way through the meat locker in darkness. Visibility is god-awful in here as it is completely unlit. You're surprised Kiikoinen managed to fight in here, but then again you imagine he only had to be more capable fighting in darkness than-

Kulla.

He is dangling from a meat hook.

You can only tell it's him because he is the only clothed carcass here.

That and the sound of dripping fresh blood onto the floor.

You give one last thought to the man and what exactly the role he played was, if he was tied with Aamu's program or with the Old Oaks and whatever, and pushed past him to the only other door in the meat locker.

Past this door is the kitchen, where people who actually live in the undercity will be working. Whether or not they have caught onto the fact something's been going on is beyond you, but regardless, you have to get moving. And fast. You can't let them hold you up.

If you want to get through this establishment without being held up, you have to establish your authority very clearly. Given your large weapon, sudden appearance, and the kitchen's staff of largely non-combatants, you have an advantage. Roll for Savvy; one anon, roll 7d8t2

Rolled 5, 2, 6, 8, 8, 2, 8 = 39 (7d8)

>>6292862

>>6292872
Damn we won, nice going

>>6292872
With a perfect plan in mind, you grab the handle of the door.

SLAM

The crowded kitchen jumps to the sudden smash of metal on metal - the one assistant that was just about to open the door most of all. As you step in, you rap the pommel of the greatsword on the metal door.

"ACHTUNG!" You yell at the top of your lungs in your native German through the gas mask of your turnout suit to the crowd of monolingual Finns as you step through the kitchen. They all stop what they're doing or recoil at the sound. You push aside one of the workers and, with the the pommel you bat away the workers and gesture that they clear a path. "Get out of my way! Go, go, go!"

By choosing to speak in German, you give off the presence of someone that is not a normal Stormwatch agent, and with gestures you make sure that despite the language barrier they get the gist immediately. Those in the middle asile of the kitchen rush out of your way as you stride down it to not get into any sort of conflict. Nasty glares come at you from those on the sides, but they are for the most part blocked in by their peers. One continues to menace you, but you raise the blade in halfsword at them menacingly and convince them to step aside like an oar through water.

Free from the kitchen, you find yourself in a dingy, dense restaurant of some sort, its structure mostly stripped-bare concrete. You look around for any possible threats, but aside from an overcrowding of rotting, ricketey trash in the shape of chairs and tables, you spot a long dining table that is seating a number of women and children. Every seat is accounted for, save for one seat at the head of the table near the door with an unfinished meal.

>>6292913
She was eating here, and not just her. The women stand and grab weapons they've kept at their side as they stare you down, while some of the children shirk in confusion. It seems She took the whole orphanage out for a meal.

There is two among them who grabs your attention. A frightened bespectacled girl with one arm, and a boy with a fire in his eyes and a chip on his shoulder.

You've seen them before. Their names are Tahti and Sisu, and they were two you've seen during your last official mission, hiding from you in the bushes as you investigated an abandoned sanctuary on your way back from when you completed your mission. You had spoken with them, and you seemed to be on good terms. They should not be able to recognize you through this mask. Back when you first met them you were wearing turnout gear just like this, but the mask you have now should be enough to cover your face and obscure your identity.

Sisu's expression as he locks eyes with you is a mix of surprise, disgust, and hatred all the same.

>>6292915
The "window" directly across from the kitchen's exit is a hole in the ruined building wall. Outside, all sorts of people are rushing down the street to the right. If you were to guess, Fahy is making a high-profile escape somewhere in the other direction, which should help you in particular out.

Sparing no time, you hop straight through the window and onto the street, looking around for Kiikoinen. Considering the layout of the map you saw, he must have had to cut through the building on your right.

From against the grain of the crowd approaches a strange man carrying a bundle of gear. He is a well-built man with a shirt wrapped around his waist, black hair thrown over his face hiding all but a few scars that grace his chi-Freyja's tits that's Kiikoinen. It's been like forty seconds, how the FUCK did he-!?

"Fiona," he says, grabbing your wrist. "Come on."

He drags you across the underground street into an alleyway. The alleyway's mouth had strange folk peering outside, taken by surprise to see a man drag a Stormwatch agent into the alleyway, but didn't feel they were in enough danger to disperse. After marching through the trash-heap mess, you find an unoccupied section of alleyway where he stops to find his bearings and for you to catch your breath.

Comms are currently completely busy with Fahy's escapades; he is currently tearing a warpath through the Undercity, raiding street vendors for their food in a rapid dash weaving through buildings and alleyways as a route toward the nearest unsecured opening to the Undercity is charted, though he seems adamant on finding a way to juke the power-armored jet-propelled aberration and head back out the planned exfiltration point. On paper it sounds comical, and you have a feeling Saemus actually is enjoying himself, but you feel bad for chuckling anyway.

"Drop the mask and flip your coat inside out. Turn off the camera and stuff it. You shouldn't be recognizable as Stormwatch - not immediately." His orders are quick and comprehensive for the chaotic situation. "Not much can be done with the sword. Can sheath it under your coat?"

What's all this he's asking you suddenly? "Why?"

With a sigh, Lalli answered your question on the radio. "Be advised, I spotted numerous armed elements approaching the gate. They may be attempting to close it. We'll have to find our own way out, or go through them."

"Don't follow me, trail behind me is hot!" Fahy warns after a moment of finding the chance to chime in.

"The vans are departing," Sigrun announces. "We're leaving the door open, but past that you'll have to find your own way out."

Fuck.

>>6292916
The people you rescued are safe, but this is bad. Stuck in the Undercity with Stormwatch gear. There are not many ways you can see this ending very well - at least, ways that aren't like Fahy's current plan. You're really tempted to see if you can just fight your way out, even though you'd have to fight a number of enemies that you know about and then have to brave the untamed underworks past them and then move faster than pursuers... agonizingly, the more you consider it, the more you realize that path will be filled with mountains of conflict. Pained by having to actually consider the two options, you get two basic questions out of the way. "Do you actually know a way out of here?"

"There are other entry and exit points that were considered irrelevant to the mission due to the distance from the objective," he replies quickly to shoot down the suspicion that he doesn't know what he is doing and navigating the undercity as a Stormwatch agent is, in fact, comparatively viable a plan.

Almost begging to reveal a hole in his plan, you groan. "Can we really just walk around down here?"

The shirtless man looks at you with a strict gaze from behind the locks of hair. "Not dressed like that. Take that off."

G-Gods above, Lalli!

Choose one option.
>Argue that you should try leave through the primary exfiltration point, despite the inevitable conflict along that route
>Concede and follow Lalli through the streets of the undercity
>Write-in

>>6292920
>>Concede and follow Lalli through the streets of the undercity
we are not dressed for harsh combat, and even if we were, we're not good enough at it to be able to take this heat,
not yet at least, but soon

>>6292920
>>Write-in
Take off everything

>>6292973
Based.
Unlurking to +1 this.

>>6292973
switching my vote
+take all the pervitin
when in Finland

>>6292990
oh shit you are right
you do have pervitin
For the sake of disclosure, I should mention you have a full case of Pervitin and some Liquid IV. The drink will *not* drag you out of a Pervitin binge, it is not Narcan.

Also, you still need to vote if you're staying in the undercity or fighting your way out before (attempting to) tweaking on hard drugs and streaking because those two options dictate where the tweaking will go (if you unironically do this)

>>6292994
Right, right.

>>6292920
>Concede and follow Lalli through the streets of the undercity
>While tweaking off Pervitin and doing z9M's write in.

if Aimo Koivunen managed his great feat while waging guerilla war, I say we follow the example, thus going into direct heated conflict would be inadvisable, instead striking at weak links

so while following the write-in, and taking the whole pack of perviting, I vote to stay in the undercity and find an alternate route out

>>6292973
>>6292990
+1 for getting silly

>>6292973
>+1 get naked take pervitin

Hehe no one will recognize us!

>>6292916
>he is currently tearing a warpath through the Undercity, raiding street vendors for their food in a rapid dash weaving through buildings and alleyways as a route toward the nearest unsecured opening to the Undercity is charted, though he seems adamant on finding a way to juke the power-armored jet-propelled aberration and head back out the planned exfiltration point. On paper it sounds comical, and you have a feeling Saemus actually is enjoying himself, but you feel bad for chuckling anyway.
Is he doing some Pizza Tower style running escape? Is he doing some deranged SS13 style yakety sax juking maneuvers through the Undercity? Is he actually randomly stopping at stalls to grab a big hunk of cartoon meat on the bone and eating it, then throwing the bone back at She as She is chasing him?

>>6292973
>>6292984
>>6292990
>>6293001
>>6293048
>>6293004
>Pervitin
>It is said a pre-destruction Finnish soldier behind enemy lines consumed an entire package of these and mantled the spirits of the wilds. He traveled hundreds of miles, eating birds raw, slaughtering his enemies as he saw them, and ripping apart their machines with his bare hands.
>A package of 5 tablets of Pervitin.
>+ +10d10 to be used at will and any amount at a time per pill.
>- Taking more than two at once causes a period where you lose control of Fiona. 3 is a brief period, 4 is a few hours, 5 is for a whole day.
>- Starting the following day, you will suffer a 1d4 dice penalty to your dice pool until you lose (pills taken*10) d6
Do we take the WHOLE packet or just 2?

>>6293069
The whole point is to take the whole thing

>>6293074
>package of 5 tablets
>Taking more than two at once causes a period where you lose control of Fiona
>5 is for a whole day
Fuck it, let's become unrecognizable as a Stormwatch agent in enemy territory.
>Starting the following day, you will suffer a 1d4 dice penalty to your dice pool until you lose (pills taken*10) d6
We're going to be debuffed so bad we'll be out cold for a day or two

>>6292994
Of course we're sticking with Lalli

At 15 hours and a nigh unanimous vote for the silly, I need to make some clarifications.
First of all, D10 success threshold is 6 or above, making the odds 40% per die. It's not affected by Clockwise Metamorphisis.
Players will be doing dice rolls for skill checks, during which you can say whether or not you want to roll additional Pervitin dice in the post in which you roll. Then I will roll the amount you said.
However, because you lose control of Fiona, I may add additional Pervitin dice at my leisure in places where Fiona wants to succeed to the degree she wants to succeed. She may decide to trivialize certain checks by brute force. That said, I cannot use Tilting Windmills, you can use that to ensure passing a check, or even to try and avoid that.
Oh, and because you're on autopilot, Fiona's train of thought is prone to fugue and what you see might be not immediately seen as rational, but you're the ones choosing to do drugs and streak naked, so stones and glass houses. No matter how capable Fiona believes she is in this state, she will retain self-preservation even in this state and avoid overwhelming odds.

Lastly, I do have something to do Friday so no update from then until Monday.

Writing.

>>6292920
>Concede and follow Lalli through the streets of the undercity

>>6293178
Oh, god.

>>6293178
why did we vote to drug ourselves for no reason?

>>6293194
For fun.

This is all overwhelming. The sights of dozens of people tortured and abused, held captive, treated like animals as they are led to the slaughter, the cutting room, the meat locker, the amorphous thing that was butchering them. And right when you think you could finally be free of all that, that fucking monstrous woman comes along and cuts you off, and now the exit is being occupied and sealed by half a dozen armed assailants, leaving you stranded down here, where if things really go bad enough, you might end up fighting even more.

But what's worst of all? You aren't sure you can act normal. You're a foreigner, and that's obvious. Not exactly well educated, but you aren't anyone who could have ever had to turn to this side of the law. Fighting doesn't have this level of acting at work...

"How do I fit in down here? I'm not Finnish." The words are tough to get out, as you set your sword on the wall and begin unstrapping the coat. The bodycam gets in the way, and because you'll have to be in disguise, you decide you have to turn it off and stow it in your pocket. It's probably safer security-wise; the less opportunities the squatters have to hijack a connection, the better. From hereon out, nobody at Stormwatch will see what you're doing. "I'll stick out like a sore thumb even if I dress messy, the moment I open my mouth will give me away."

Lalli's plain and monotonous voice tries its best at being reassuring. "Just act. Have you ever acted before?"

"No."

"Then just don't say anything. If you're so insecure, don't do anything that gets you seen. Blend in. Or just stick out in a different way. Perhaps you could speak German."

As you whip the jacket off and pull the sleeves inside out, a packet falls to the ground. You toss the jacket over your shoulder and kneel down to pick up the thing you dropped.

It's the Pervitin. The adrenaline medicine, or whatever it was. You had brought it with the intention of feeding it to the hostages to help get them out, but forgot to give it to people. In your defense, with so many people and only five to hand out, it would have been hard to identify the five most worthy of needing it. Eugen might have had more time and familiarity with their conditions to make better judgements, and probably did. You, however, squandered it. A few kids enjoyed the chocolate sword you brought, and now you are here totting around nothing but a greatsword that is high tech but isn't Stormwatch made. At least, you hope people see it that way.

... Is this medicine even all that impressive?

>>6293280
"Take off the buttondown, too. It has our logos on it," Lalli says, turning away to provide some privacy. "Stuff it in a jacket pocket."

You tear open the packet and look at the pill. It's a large, dusty, brick colored circular tablet. It has the appearance of if somebody made a chalky candy that was supposed to have a vague resemblance to salami. In your dejection and absence of mind, you take one of them, almost recoiling at the taste. Medicine never tastes good, usually, but in all your life you've rarely seen something so processed and refined. You believe in good soup and food, not these stupid pills. After a painful swallow, you start taking off the dress shirt.

"Fahy is heading eastbound toward the bay, and will draw the attention of everyone around there. His exploits in experimental equipment could draw the attention of the wider undercity. It might be possible for us to lie low and wait for more of the milita to move past us to reinforce us before moving on."

That damn pill didn't feel like shit. And your injuries from yesterday are flaring up from the action you got in before now that the adrenaline is waning. You pop in a couple more as you finish unbuttoning the shirt and then work the sleeves off your arms.

Kiikoinen continues his outline of a plan. "That side of the undercity having the attention of the militia means less armed hostile elements in the areas of the city we will have to navigate in order to find a safe escape route to the surface."

Finally, your operator's voice comes on the comms addressing you. "Kiikoinen, Jarnafeldt. Status."

"I have prepared a plan," your mentor responds in a clam manner. "For brevity's sake I will not repeat it, but it relies on the attention drawn by Fahy."

Okay, what if... and you mean really, what if...

>>6293284
BUT DUDE
BUT GUYS
WHAT IF
WHAT IF WE DO THE FUNNY

>>6293339
What if that's just what you need?

It's wrong to call everyone down here freaks, but you feel like that is the thing. The people you passed on the way down here were filthy, uncared for, a bit unhinged. You're not any of those things. But what if this thing could help?

If you get on this stuff, like really on this stuff, you'll be stumbling around like an idiot. You've had two, three bottles of wine in a night before! It was terrible the morning after, but hey, you lived. And if that's what it takes to not be pegged as a member of the authoritarian deathsquad in a place where they'll kill you for it... shit. You might have to do the whole thing.

Besides, who is Kiikoinen to judge? Shape-shifting, club-going, IV drip needing-just how hard does he have to be going on a regular basis to personally own an IV drip? If he gets on your case over little old this, then you do have some words for him.

Now covered mainly with your sports bra, you turn the wrapper inside out over your mouth, taking the last two. As you drop the wrapper on the ground, he doesn't seem to mind the sound. Might as well be some manner of trash that was already on the ground.

The reality of the situation hits you, hastening the beating of your heart, but it is fine. You do need to be alert for this. You can't imagine being tired here. Falling asleep. Passing out. Or deliberately staying the night.

That would be insane. Ludicrous. Only a lunatic would do that.

Or someone who somehow feels safe down here.

So what's with Lalli having a clue on etiquette downstairs?

Having people know him by some nickname, going ahead to try and kill everyone before you even get even look at them. Was it a coincidence he knew the chef, another patron of the Void club, and he ran ahead to plant an axe in his head? Bullshit. You need to press him on that at some point.

The inverted jacket's cool wet exterior-now-interior material touches your skin, but still you feel warm. You can't bring yourself to close it all the way. Your chest rises and falls. Your breaths are laden. You want to move somewhere.

Heaving breathing has caught his attention, so Lalli signs off the radio. "We'll be going dark. I'll keep in touch." Gently, he turns around and addresses you. "Fiona, are you alright? We can sit down and wait. People doing nothing raise no suspicions."

You don't know where half of these are coming from, but this is your last sober chance to speak until it wears off.
>"I'm onto you, Mister Adder. Cleaning up ahead of time? Fuck you."
>"Do you usually ask women to strip right after leaving a place to eat or is today an occasion?"
>"I want out of here and I'm half tempted to start running mad like Fahy is"
>"Think we can investigate the orphanage while the matron is out chasing our Irish boy?"
>"Where's Sumika? Sumika should have been right here. Let's find her. I want to see her."
>"We might be being followed by the kid."
>Walk right past him.

>>6293284
What if that's just what you need?

It's wrong to call everyone down here freaks, but you feel like that is the thing. The people you passed on the way down here were filthy, uncared for, a bit unhinged. You're not any of those things. But what if this thing could help?

If you get on this stuff, like really on this stuff, you'll be stumbling around like an idiot. You've had two, three bottles of wine in a night before! It was terrible the morning after, but hey, you lived. And if that's what it takes to not be pegged as a member of the authoritarian deathsquad in a place where they'll kill you for it... shit. You might have to do the whole thing.

Besides, who is Kiikoinen to judge? Shape-shifting, club-going, IV drip needing-just how hard does he have to be going on a regular basis to personally own an IV drip? If he gets on your case over this little thing, then you do have some words for him.

Now covered mainly with your sports bra, you turn the wrapper inside out over your mouth, taking the last two. As you drop the wrapper on the ground, he doesn't seem to mind the sound. Might as well be some manner of trash that was already on the ground.

The reality of the situation hits you, hastening the beating of your heart, but it is fine. You do need to be alert for this. You can't imagine being tired here. Falling asleep. Passing out. Or deliberately staying the night.

That would be insane. Ludicrous. Only a lunatic would do that.

Or someone who somehow feels safe down here.

So what's with Lalli having a clue on etiquette downstairs?

Having people know him by some nickname, going ahead to try and kill everyone before you even get even look at them. Was it a coincidence he knew the chef, another patron of the Void club, and he ran ahead to plant an axe in his head? Bullshit. You need to press him on that at some point.

The inverted jacket's cool wet exterior-now-interior material touches your skin, but still you feel warm. You can't bring yourself to close it all the way. Your chest rises and falls. Your breaths are laden. You want to move somewhere.

Heaving breathing has caught his attention, so Lalli signs off the radio. "We'll be going dark. I'll keep in touch." Gently, he turns around and addresses you. "Fiona, are you alright? We can sit down and wait. People doing nothing raise no suspicions."

You don't know where half of these are coming from, but this is your last sober chance to speak until it wears off.
>"I'm onto you, Mister Adder. Cleaning up ahead of time? Fuck you."
>"Do you usually ask women to strip right after leaving a place to eat or is today an occasion?"
>"I want out of here and I'm half tempted to start running mad like Fahy is"
>"Think we can investigate the orphanage while the matron is out chasing our Irish boy?"
>"Where's Sumika? Sumika should have been right here. Let's find her. I want to see her."
>"We might be being followed by the kid."
>Walk right past him.

>>6293354
>"I want out of here and I'm half tempted to start running mad like Fahy is"

Gotta go fast.

>>6293354
>>"I want out of here and I'm half tempted to start running mad like Fahy is"
>"We might be being followed by the kid."
I'm not sure he will be willing to accept stuff about the kid, seeing as he's overly resistant to magic bullshit

>>6293354
>>"Do you usually ask women to strip right after leaving a place to eat or is today an occasion?"

>>6293354
>"I want out of here and I'm half tempted to start running mad like Fahy is"

>>6293354
>>"I want out of here and I'm half tempted to start running mad like Fahy is"
>"We might be being followed by the kid."

>>6293354
>>"Do you usually ask women to strip right after leaving a place to eat or is today an occasion?"
>>"I want out of here and I'm half tempted to start running mad like Fahy is"

>>6293354
>"Do you usually ask women to strip right after leaving a place to eat or is today an occasion?"
>"I want out of here and I'm half tempted to start running mad like Fahy is"
>"We might be being followed by the kid."

Votes closed.
Time for a wild ride.

>>6293194
Well, two first-time voters were involved. Make of that what you will.

>>6293676
Here we gooooo! Good in-character rationale, btw.

>>6293717
To be fair, even if you didn't account for me or bl1, 3 voters with more than one vote before it went for it.
It was still the majority.

hold on real life kicking my ass, see you soon with update

>>6293725
bl1 here. I'm a phoneposter ut Ive been onboard a few threads. MNP has more drugs than Hunter S Thompsen, all with cool game effects. Plus a druggo'd escape is a nice light mood counterpoint to the dark reveal that we're all cannibals and the whole slaughterhouse level.

>>6294517
Have a Don

>>6294522
>>6293725
I'll have to take your word for it.

>>6294517
Sorry to hear it, OP. I hope things improve shortly.

Update tomorrow. It will be many things.

>>6294522
Oh, I want to clarify something before I update. The Soilent Green deal isn't new information. I casually mentioned it during the description of the Manhunter vocation.
>Murderers, grand-theft thieves, and smugglers try and make life harder for everyone else, take more than their fair share, unable to play by the rules. When they get caught, there is no jail. There is no trial. A slot opens in the city, and the sods are carted off to the nearest food processing plant.
I brought it up again to provide context to the bottle and the point that She wanted to make; even if, as some have argued, her point is not totally comprehensive as a totally silent answer.

>>6296158
Oh wow, that went over my head. Seems so obvious now :D

>>6296158
I definitely missed or forgot that in the many months since thread 1, lol...

>>6296442
You chuckle. The awkwardness of everything is overwhelming. It all feels out of place. What he's saying, who you've been seeing, what you need to be doing. It all feels wrong. But you're the one out of place. This is all wrong because you're here.

So it's you that is out of place. You do not belong here.

Logically, you should be running. Getting out of here as quickly as you can. But Kiikoinen wants to talk a bit. So you're stuck here for now.

Pacing back and forth, grabbing the lapel of the jacket and fanning it, your mind wanders. "No, no, it's fine, it's just..." This is hard to approach.

"Go on." He is trying to be patient.

Fuck it. "Do you usually ask women to strip right after leaving a place to eat or is today an occasion?"

The hair drooping down covered the probably priceless look on his face, but that is made up for by the first breath of laughter shoots a lock upward into a bend. "Fiona, this is-" Lalli struggles to form a coherent thought, let alone speak in a calm and controlled manner. Finally, he seems to give in, to... something. "On second thought, it's much less suspicious if it's casual."

As you passively agreed, looking over your shoulder as you were about to get on track to the second thing you wanted to bring up, Kiikoinen rubs his face, pulling at his eyebags and haunching over, and begins to talk like someone else entirely.

"Anyway, no." His well-structured practical speech pattern has begun to melt like ice cream in sun. It's still his voice with that thick accent, but it's slumped. He cracks a wry smile. "Usually, it's during."

W-what.

This manner of speaking is scarcely recognizable. You definitely wouldn't believe he is a Stormwatch agent if you saw him on the streets. And his answer was something that should never come out of his mouth. "D-do you really?"

"No, you fucking- I'm joking. I'm joking." Kiki's laughter broke up his reasoning. The way he's speaking is much less monotone, much more lively, even as much of a drawl as it is. "I don't crack jokes on the job, it's unprofessional."

"Are you like this often?"

"No. I avoid my coworkers when out and about. I'd rather not be doing this now, but it's safer, and... I should do what I can to keep you safe."

>>6293354
You chuckle. The awkwardness of everything is overwhelming. It all feels out of place. What he's saying, who you've been seeing, what you need to be doing. It all feels wrong. But you're the one out of place. This is all wrong because you're here.

So it's you that is out of place. You do not belong here.

Logically, you should be running. Getting out of here as quickly as you can. But Kiikoinen wants to talk a bit. So you're stuck here for now.

Pacing back and forth, grabbing the lapel of the jacket and fanning it, your mind wanders. "No, no, it's fine, it's just..." This is hard to approach.

"Go on." He is trying to be patient.

Fuck it. "Do you usually ask women to strip right after leaving a place to eat or is today an occasion?"

The hair drooping down covered the probably priceless look on his face, but that is made up for by the first breath of laughter shoots a lock upward into a bend. "Fiona, this is-" Lalli struggles to form a coherent thought, let alone speak in a calm and controlled manner. Finally, he seems to give in, to... something. "On second thought, it's much less suspicious if it's casual."

As you passively agreed, looking over your shoulder as you were about to get on track to the second thing you wanted to bring up, Kiikoinen rubs his face, pulling at his eyebags and haunching over, and begins to talk like someone else entirely.

"Anyway, nah." His well-structured practical speech pattern has begun to melt like ice cream in sun. It's still his voice with that thick accent, but it's slumped. He cracks a wry smile. "Usually I say that during."

W-what.

This manner of speaking is not at all recognizable. You wouldn't believe he is a Stormwatch agent if you saw him in the building, let alone on the streets. And that answer was something that should never, ever come out of his mouth. "D-do you really?"

"No, you fucking- I'm joking. I'm joking." Kiki's laughter broke up his reasoning. The way he's speaking is much less monotone, much more lively, even as much of a drawl as it is. "I don't crack jokes on the job, it's unprofessional. Work and play are separate, you know how it is."

"Are you like this often?"

"No. I avoid my coworkers when out and about. If I do see them, I'd rather not be seen by them. I'd rather not be doing this now, but it's safer, and... I should do what I can to keep you safe."

>>6296497
He cracks his neck and continues. "Anyway, I don't go by Lalli out and about. Off the clock, I'm Kiki. Or Lasse. Or whatever other handle I come up with. Let's stick with Kiki."

Your heart rate has been increasing. You want to run somewhere. Your body craves movement. Exertion. You're having flashes where a haze of stygian colors wash over your eyes, and in the time between the seconds as your vision clears, you see something.

A molted snake skin sits on the ground.

It's gone when you look back up at Kiikoinen.

And so the adder molts its skin, becoming something new entirely.

Oh it's hitting you now. It's a number of things; a sudden hunger, a flash of heat, but it is slowly building into a cascade of things that you are feeling that it you are too scattered to put to proper words. You are so focused that you are dizzy. Everything is so clear it's distracting.

"We should probably come up with an alias for you," he prattles on, trying to set any number of basis for your undercover operation. "How do you like Ilona?"

You lift the jacket off your shoulders.

Kiki stops dead in his tracks for a painfully long moment, his expression concealed by the veil of hair, but you can judge that beneath it is a complicated expression on its own. "Fiona there are power dynamics at play here I do not like-"

"I think a kid is following us," you blurt out.

He stops speaking immediately. You can feel an intense look from beneath the hair.

In the dark alleyway behind you, you see distant uninterested dregs. What you don't see is more concerning. "I met this kid a few days ago, and he was ready to fight me then. He might have recognized me, I was in this gear."

"It'll be fine, he's just a kid," Kiki assures. "We can scare him off."

"No, I think he wants to kill me. He knows what I did."

The familiar Kiikoinen rises from the grave. "What did you do?"

You alluded to something you shouldn't have. You fucked up. You have to leave. Run. You remove the jacket in its entirely and grab Auringvalo from his spot on the wall. "We should go. I want to go. I want to run. I want to go home and I'm about to run."

"Fiona did you just take some of that Noita garbage."

You move out into the street.

>>6296502
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sq2KhXrqKRY

The entirety of the overpopulation thousands upon thousands upon thousands is cramped into a section of the city that could be described as a neighborhood.

It is packed.

There are people everywhere, casting sideways glances from turnways faces. Caged aberrant beasts snarl and lash at anything that jumps too close, venting their frustrations as the street vendors selling the meats of their brothers right beside them, knowing it is next.. Lit-up neon or LED signs operating off mooched power in a sporadic and eclectic array, all of the colors of the rainbow but too few and far between to paint the color of the buildings and streets anything other than a muted grayish royal blue.

And there, hidden in the shadows, lurking behind men and women, are the figures of animals.

>>6296511
Reindeer, moose, lynx, foxes, wolves. Luonto.

Though most Finns believe in the Finnish gods, most on the surface barely keep the gods in mind. They are caught in a rat race of everyday life, with no time to spare on prayers. They offer the gods very little.

Down here, the idea something they might not see giving them the strength to contine is their only power. It's all they have. It is all they can do, to believe.

And so they believe harder than most.

A gestalt of praying voices, a choir of souls singing pleading cries, reaching for something. And thus did their gods bestow them.

The creatures leer at you. Trespasser. Slayer. Uplander. Overdweller. That's what you are to them.

The concern you feel is merited. The gods watching these people are not yours.

>>6296539
A conventional settlement has borders and the same is true here, but being underground, borders are not the only exits. Some buildings remain developed and even constantly repaired by Helsinki officials because their construction was crucial as support pieces for certain parts of the city above.

There has to be a way out through one of those, right? Right? One less guarded than the main exterior exits, of course? They know a pogrom is soon to come, and it won't come single-file through an unmonitored doorway.

You hear a name behind you. Ilora.

Kiki named you Joy.

... You need to run. He can keep up with you, right?

Through the streets you stumble, under the gaze of discarded men and their manifestations.

Rolled 3 (1d3)

You don't know to where you run.
But you run somewhere.

>>6296575
oh jeez

>>6296575
Dark alleyways are where you'll find us,
naked, screaming at the top of our lungs,
covered head to toe in petroleum jelly,
ponytail whipping in the wind.

>>6296575
"Stumble" is definitely the wrong word. It feels like stumbling, but the dense undercity is rapidly moving past you. Is it dense? Are you moving fast? Is Pervitin supposed to make things feel like they're moving faster? You're not sure where to begin and end, only that you want to keep moving and move and move and move.

You jog(?) for some amount of time, you think five minutes. Maybe more, you're not quite sure.

While making your way through, the only thing that stopped your rushing through the streets is one of the many pillars that support the Stormdrain in the middle of the street, decorated with tents at its base and innumerable messages, rantings, ravings, encouragements, and prayers along its wall.

The prayers are clearly visible even from far away and from beneath the canopy of crowns of crowds.

From the heavens tears descended,
From the Great Magician, Ukko.
This his only gift and solace.
But he bears more than simple malice.
For the Day will Come for Monsters,
They who Slay their Fellow Human.
Plucked by Birds and Torn to Ribbons.
Uplanders borne by Tuoni
To the River of the Death-Land.

Right right right, the overpopulation are very devout pagans and they are very happy when the giant white swans migrate down from the north and attack Helsinki. You've been previously told it will be coming soon. You should get moving.

But something stops you from moving. An odd discovery to make on the side of the underground road.

In an opened garage, whose dilapidation makes it resemble an open-air workshop, you see someone performing some rather unusual toolbench work. Inside, a man scoops tiny thimbles of two different powders, before mixing it into a teensy little brass cup. A metal ball is placed on top to cover it, and the whole thing is pressed with some hand-operated machine that seals the device. It is then placed in a tray atop a dozen trays containing a hundred of similar things.

Someone is manufacturing bullets.

More importantly, someone gave them the tools and knowhow.

>>6297021
Your stomach winces in pain. You weren't aware hunger was a part of the whole Pervitin deal. It doesn't feel debilitating like the Undercroft suit, just, you know, casual extreme hunger.

But as the Gods would have it there is a smaller place to eat right in front of you.
No not the gunsmith garage you're not that hungry yet.
A place that sells real food, eaten by real overpopulation, made from real-you just busted a cannibal ring you have to ask where it comes from.

You step up to the man working the counter. This man is surprisingly well-kept for being a squatter; a lot of people are, actually. They must bathe with all the clean rainfall and filtered water. Quality food is also a side-effect, hopefully.

He asks you what you want, and in turn, you ask him what he has.
>You're not eating a Rat Burger [2]
>Letiva Soup sounds even more revolting [0]
>Fish and Mushroom isn't a combination you've heard of but the rice sounds nice [4]
>You are not going to walk up to a food stand and ask for fucking soifood [1]

And before he even prepares it for you, he asks how you're going to pay. It occurs to you that, since cash isn't used at all in Helsinki and transactions by credit are monitored by the likes of Sigrun, you're going to have to barter.

>The sword could probably buy you the entire block [0]
>He offered two free beers with your boots [5]
>You're exhausting heat like a hot oven but once this binge ends you'll be freezing so no trading your jacket [1]
>no this isn't that kind of quest [1]

The streets are fast and the food is faster, and it comes out to you incredibly quickly. They have a grill but you don't know how the hell they're operating it since coal and propane damn near contraband. That's a question you want to ask but you feel like prying would get you into troubl-

Wait. There's two people eating here that you recognize.

>>6297028
Over at a table to your left is the proprietor of the Brickstone Lehto, the watering hole you met the Red Dogs in all that time ago. You can't recall his name, but he was standing guard on the catwalks above you during your first sortie, as he had to manually defend his establishment from whatever aberrations came from below while the Stormwatch was training a new force. You can see him having some connections down here, all things considered, but what deals he has is beyond you. Maybe he's permitted to do that? You could bring it up to someone.

And over there, at a table in the corner all the way in the back with a couple women wearing not much at all is a man in a tophat. The Black Coat of the Red Dogs, Durant. He has absolutely no justifiable reason to be here and he is very clearly not here for business. Isn't he an actual slave, on the leash of that Chicago Judge? Wasn't he also an underground gunsmith? Oh, that fucker. He's back at it again, and looking to be paid in bitches and hoes. If they're already making bullets, it might be too late to press him about it.

Nevertheless...
>You barely know him and he barely knows you, don't bother with the bar owner. [0]
>That slave needs to be taught his fucking place. Giving the people you're going to be fighting in a matter of weeks or even days GUNS? The fucking audacity. [3]
>You'll stick around here long enough for Kiki to find you, you promise [2]
>You don't actually know any of the buildings that connect to the aboveground and they are probably well-defended checkpoints besides [1]

The food has a nice flavor but all 1400 calories of it vanish in an instant and the beers are killed in a fashion seen only in Norway and Germany. The vendor is quaking in his new pair of Stormwatch boots.

With nothing stopping you, you approach the black furred dog.

>>6297028
>this Pervitin trip auto-voting sequence
EPIC
I love this sort of interface fuckery with my quests and choose-your-own-adventure stories
>no this isn't that kind of quest [1]
I applaud the one anon connected alongside us who voted with his dick. Truly based

Oh, while you're here,
Roll for Savvy. One anon roll 6d8. Target unknown.

Rolled 6, 7, 7, 7, 3, 4 = 34 (6d8)

>>6297035
Very savvy?

Rolled 10, 6, 3, 4, 5, 8 = 36 (6d10)

>>6297036
4 Successes, awesome. Fiona is expending an additional 6d10.
Pervitin Dice Remaining: 44d10

Rolled 2, 2, 6, 4, 7, 2 = 23 (6d8)

>>6297035
>A singular anonymous signal distantly tries to ping the blonde German girl...
"I hope you will know of our existence one day, little one."
>A sound of dice clattering across a table can be heard. But there is nobody openly using dice here in this eatery...

>>6297036
>And yet... one of his nameless fellows has beaten him to the punch, but with a satisfying result. This voice is content with the numbers that Fate has dealt this time.

>>6297034
Well I hope you noticed the subsequent vote had over less voter

>>6297074
What a faggot, but I bet he'll be back

>>6297038
The man in the dark coat is turned away from you, and doesn't really have a clue about who is stepping up behind him. But he does know someone is stepping up behind him, because you could not help but chuckle as you rattled around how you would even begin to address him.

And how he spun around to greet you is so very fucking American of him.

In one fluid motion, he pushed his chair away from the table and the girls he was with and placed something under your chin. The iron was not cold and chilly; it's warm and musty from being underneath his thick coat. Blood pumps much quicker through your veins all the same as the chain of his gatling revolver clinks beneath your head.

Under the shadow of his hat's brim, Durant gives you a steely glare. "Don't you got any manners? Silly bitch-wait." He stops himself as he actually registers your face. "Who the- Aren't you...?"

Textbook Chicago Handshake.
>You cannot turn around and walk away from this [2]
>Your silence could buy his pistol right out of his hand but you don't even know how to operate it really [0]
>There's no way you can pretend to be in on his scheme [0]
>It would look too schizophrenic if you started telling him that giant walking talking trees are part of the shadow government, even if that knowledge will get him killed one day [1]
>Remind him how dead he is if he pulls that trigger (Savvy, 6d8) [4]
> +Intimidate him, HARD [3]
>Demand to know how much he's already contributed to the weapons downstairs [5]
Your roll was already made.

"Well I'm not the only bitch that's slipped its leash, schwinehund." You grab his gun and dig it deeper under your chin. He lurches in to stop his hand from slipping, eyes wide in shock. "And might I remind you I'm a certain Swan's favorite? One trip to your little group's suite in the early morning, your master is gone, the big red dog you take care of is hers, and you can have the pleasure of being on the other end of your dirtywork."

Composing himself from your overwhelming audacity, he finds his throat to speak from. "T-the hell are you doing down here? You got a wild side?"

You don't actually know what expression you're making but you know your eyebrows are perched as high as they possibly can be. "That's none of your business. Speaking of business, you used to make guns for the Chicago underground, didn't you? I saw something real interesting next door." With a breath, you make sure you're giving a toothy grin. "Does it pay well?"

Durant gives you a mean scowl, conflicted between burying it deeper under your neck or pulling away. "Fuck. What's it matter to you, anyway? Keep your mouth shut. I don't need a loose end."

>>6297991
"I am going to be running into bullets you made no matter what I do." You lean forward, twisting the gun in his hand, and he has to stretch to avoid pulling the trigger before he wants to. "That's a little... frustrating."

Stepping back, removing his finger from the trigger and wrenching the gun to a more comfortable position for himself, the man in black chuckles. "Heh, tell you what. When you get the memo, call in sick. How about that? Saves your hide."

There's no specific moment from training that you recall as you come up with a response. You just say it. "I could save myself, and let everyone else I know get shot. Or I could tell some of my friends, and get the higher ups looking at us suspiciously because we all avoided it. Any good reason I don't just tell the whole building?"

Durant is pissed. The girls he had with him are running off, others eating around are warily continuing their meals, and he is standing there having his wrist twisted mentally and physically with a gun in his hand, struggling to pretend like he is the one in control here.

You twist him harder. "How about you tell me how many guns you've made. You never come back down here again. I won't tell them it was you. And you get to leave Helsinki alive."

"You were that little girl clinging onto Kiki like a lost puppy months ago? Heh. You've been beaten into shape."

You put the tip of your greatsword on the ground and hold it upright, the golden glow of who's inside eagerly waiting in its hangar, pulsing with impatience. "That wasn't an answer, pig dog."

The crooked gunman glances between your gaze and the sword's glowing compartment. There was a level of confusion, a furrowed brow of calculating risk.

He tries pulling the gun away from your chin, and you finally permit him. Finally, he opens up.

"Met a couple people in a bar who asked if I could repair some ancient guns they found. And I mean ancient. Talkin' 1900s. They had four of them. A submachine gun called a "Suomi," and three Mosin Nagant bolt action rifles. Corroded to all hell, except for some internals. Apparently the Suomi and rifle belonged to some old war hero. There was no chance in hell of restoring them, no schematics. But I knew enough about guns to make some guesses. In the interest of firearm history, I salvaged what I could and cast over the rest of the war hero's Suomi, and I'm working on his rifle." He scoffs with a shit-eating smirk. "I just think it'll look great in a museum."

Right.

A museum.

>>6298003
There's really only one way to deal with scum like him.
>There's no way you can be certain this scoundrel will be keeping his words to just walk away [1]
>Don't engage in a gunfight with a sword, that's how the Samurai died you think [0]
>A brave engagement against 18 bullets of .38 special is a fabulously retarded idea [2]
>Steal his gun (7d8t3 + ?!?!d10) [5]
>+He would shoot you dead with the gun that's in his hands if you tried fighting through an entire gunsmith shop to steal the Suomi [2]

One anon, roll 7d8. Target 3 Successes. You may roll any number of your 44 Pervitin Dice, though given how early on it is in your binge, I will take not permit more than 10.

>>6298012
5 pervitin dice, gun moll time

Rolled 7, 7, 2, 7, 4, 1, 6, 5, 8, 8, 8, 3 = 66 (12d8)

>>6298017

>>6298019
Your Pervitin Dice are D10s, but I don't think anyone would want to reroll away from the 3 successes in the 5 D8s you rolled instead. I'll count them.

>>6298020
Woo hoo!

>>6297991
>>It would look too schizophrenic if you started telling him that giant walking talking trees are part of the shadow government, even if that knowledge will get him killed one day [1]
I was this voter
it was me

>>6298019
You examine the revolver in his hands.

The standard revolver cylinder was replaced with some manner of cog that holds, locks in place, and cycles each bullet-carrying link to the barrel.

The frame is engraved with wuthering clouds and cracking lightning. It's blued

He is a master of his craft, you can tell.

"Hm," you murmur.

"... Are you on something, gal?"

Lightning may strike eightteentimes from that stormoflead.

The corners of yourvisiongoesdark.

Yourchestrisesandfalls.

Thetimebetweentheseconds isshortening.
Butitishowyouseetheworld.
Notbymetricbutbyexperience. Adelugeoflittlemomentsthatyouoccupyfortoolittlebeforemovingon.
Yourswordspeaks andsaysyoucannotstayherelookingatgatheringstormcloudsforever.

Somewhereachildcriesforamothershemaynothave.

You smash Auringvalo's pommel into Durant's face.

>>6298378
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6kN4zRfnHm8

Thewolfcannotgethisbearings asyousnatchatthegun inhishands. Eightteencracksoflightning swingswidefromitsaimtoward you. Youpullthegunanditfiresintotheceiling. 17. Thegunshotscaresevenhim. Heletsgoofthegunandreaches intohisjacket.

Youaimand pullthetrigger - click. Thehammermustbeworked.

Fromhispockethe producesasecondrevolver. Anineshooting rebel'sgun. Tothelefthemoves andtotherightyoumove. Withafingeronthetrigger youslamthehammerwith Auringonvalo. 16. Lightningshearsthroughhisfur. Hefiresatyouandyouslip throughanopenwindow intoapuddle inanalleyway inthisconcretemausoleum.

Earsringing visionoccluded cakedinsweat lockedinaworldofyourownhead andyetyouhearhisvoice. Afterhim hesays. WasthatTapioorUkkoorAuringvaloorLalliorWhoeverelseitcouldbe? Hesoundslikeagentleman. Amanseekingsalvationbeingyoursalvation. Frombehindthesnailinyourearhemakeshimselfunderstood-spokenotbutheardallthesame.

Youarerunning asifyouwalkedthrougha portalinapuddle throughthealleyway. Whenyougotonyourfeet escapesthepresenceofyourmind. Footfallsechofromahead. Youfollowaglowingtrailofgold. Anoblesoulleadsyoutotheblackwolf.

Blacknesscloudstheblackwolf.

Afeaturelessalleyway. Nowindowsnodoors. Onlythebluelightofthestreetsoutsidereveals hisframe.

Thereisnowheretohide.

Heturnstoyou flashinghisbrassteeth.

Theundergrowthmustbeburnedsotheforestwillnotbeswallowedinflame.
>Butyouarenotbulletproof[0]
>Butyouarenotscared[0]
>Butyouarecannotunwalkthispath[0]
>FireYouShallFireYouShallFireYouShallFireYouShall[10]

Thetreasonous pighoundhasyou inatightcorridor. Youareatdisadvantage.
Oneanon, roll7d8t4. Fiona is using 5d10. You may add more dice.

Rolled 6, 4, 7, 1, 8, 5, 2 = 33 (7d8)

>>6298384
The update narration and text have in totality become most ideal. That's all.

Rolled 5, 6, 1, 4, 3 = 19 (5d10)

>>6298378
If this isn't enough, you can add more dice.

>>6298423
>>6298424
>won by a hair
wew
You have 39d10 Pervitin dice.

>>6298423
>6, 4, 7, 1, 8, 5, 2
>1, 2, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
The 3 is missing. A most interesting array of numbers. I wonder what this might portend?

>>6298424
What do you think QM?

Im about halfway through the archives. It's going to take me quite a while to catch up

Update in a bit, I've just been feeling drained.
>>6300375
Thanks for taking the time! I hope you're having fun.
>>6298427
Dice are fickle. I don't put any assumptions on them other than admire the results.

15. Yoursurprisehasyougreetthefloor. Leadfarewellssailoverhead. Frombelowyou shootagain. 14 13 12 11.

Thegolddusttrailsahead. Itrusheson, asghostlycavalry. Bulletspiercethecloudsbutcannot slay them.

Forthewispisalreadynomorethanafloatingsoul.

10 9 8 7.

Thisspotgrowswarm. Searinglyhot. Unseenfingers tiptappitterpatterdrumstrut theirwayupyourbareskintograspyourarms. Tostayhereistomakethisalleyyourgrave. Foulsmellingairblowsawayfromtheclappingofthunderandthewhistlingofcomets asyourisethroughittomeetthewall. Theblackwolfsshotsarefewbutsuccinct butthispausethatyouhavefeltsickensyou.

Hecrashesthrough theaurumfog. Anangelicglowbehindhim paintstheblackcoat'ssilhouetteinstygianink. Thegunisraisedandthealleywayisalightwithgunpowderandbuckshot. ThewasnowaytheworldcouldhaveformedforthemanwhomadetheRebel'sGunhadto nothavenamedittheLemat. Nomanonthisplanethatestheirmasters asmuchastheywhomadetheguillotineand apistolwithashotgun.

Skitteringandspatteringandskattering likemarblesdownstairs doestheleadscreamdownthealleywaytostrikeyou, thoughyoucan'ttellifitwastheshotorsomethingtheshotshotandwentflying.

Clearedthroughthehaze, withthelightbehindcastuponyou, youseeyourselfinhiseyes.

Youraisethegun.

>>6300465
Intohischestdescends aballoflead.
Fromhischestemerges aheartofgold.

Confusenot hisfatewithalchemy. Thiswasbut twogoodspirits puttingdown a feral swinehound.

Ablackwolfstaggers, pullingthe hammerandtrigger infutility. Hetwists to reach into his pocket, crumblingto theground.

Thegoldcloud approaches. Helingersover yourarm, illuminating the damage. Bleeding, but notfrom any oftheshot. Scratched andgashed.

Your heartrate slows, yourlungsfindtime to fill and empty themselves in a sane rhythm.

Darknessencroaches your eyes, but itisnotexhaustion norwounds that comes to claim you.

Yougave it no commands. The swarmfrom Auringvalo operated on its own free will.

Gold dust.

Like that from theoldone.

Anima. Will o' the Wisp. Onibi. Fairies. There's many names for it for everyone has it.
Anima anima anima.
Animalanimateanimatronic.
Even in Finnish, you can hear the etymology.
Elämä

To bring to life

You black out. But you are still moving.
One anon, roll 6d8.

Rolled 5, 2, 2, 7, 5, 6 = 27 (6d8)

>>6300467

Rolled 5, 4, 2, 1, 3, 1, 5, 3 = 24 (8d6)

>>6300471
Two people are looking for you. The odds of one of them finding you after all that noise you made is likely, but not trivial. The other... you wouldn't know.

>>6300471
>>6300483
Would you like to spend pervitin to evade being found by someone rolling 8d6 dice to find you, or let yourself be found
Reminder that I've previously established only Stormwatch agents roll dice

>>6300484
PERV PERV PERV

>>6300484
Pervitin. Stormwatch could be in cahoots with these vile kin. Elude them until the time is right. Kiikoinen's words still linger: to escape the underground

>>6300484
Pervitin

THEME OF FIONA ON PERVITIN
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RYtVf0wvPpc

>>6300510
>>6300556
>>6300624
Sure thing. Fiona is not unconsciously using extra dice; this is you.
Anons, tell me how many d10s you want to roll. You have 39d10. Once two anons agree on a set number of dice to use, one must roll that many d10s. You can't continuously heap rolls ontop of this check if you eke out no successes in, say, 3d10.

>>6300467
>animatronic
the bite of 87...

>>6300643
I'd support throwing 9 dice at the problem.

>>6300643
7d10.

>>6300777
>>6300803
If you two or any other two anons (preferably not 1post ids) can agree on any number of dice, you can roll it immediately.

>>6300643
I'm with >>6300803

>>6300814
Alright. Once players agree on Pervitin dice, you don't need my permission to roll the 7d10. You can just throw it.
One anon, roll 7d10.

Rolled 8, 5, 7, 7, 7, 6, 5 = 45 (7d10)

>>6300816

>>6300858
god DAMN bro
No one in the entire undercity will know where we are.

>>6300858
Stealth MAX

Rolled 3 (1d3)

>>6300858
Alrighty then!
With a total of 2+5 successes, you clear well up and over the first pursuer. The second pursuer? I thought it was certain, but that clears it too.

Truly, the spirits are guiding you.

>>6300932
>the spirits are guiding you.
Never getting rid of our new bro Auringonvalo

>>6300446
So far, I can't tell if my taste in weapons is just lame, or the loadout choices were really baffling.

With the flamberg, any chances of killing the goblins should've been thrown out immediately and focused on the primary objective. Driving them away is plenty for your resume.

Chocolate katana is cool, but it feels strange not to use the acid gauntlets for both cleanup missions. Like what?

>>6300916
Even we don't know.

>>6300942
I will impose zero preference upon anons making current choices. Even as much as I believe a good loadout choice was plainly visible in previous threads, it's not my place as QM to judge the current choices of readers. There's a reason I write on /qst/ and not Royal Road or some other garbage. You are Fiona, not me-

-though recently, you have decided efficacy precedes consent and consumed truly pagan levels of pervitin.

>>6300942
this mission was supposed to be a quick in and out, with a hostage focus
we got fucked by the dice a bit, making everything slow down, and megafucked by luck, making the only threat around be RIGHT THERE in the objective by sheer chance
taking mass AOE warcrime gauntlers into a situation where we are surrounded by civvies would be a poor choice, same with taking heavy armor (our arguably best combat choice) into a situation where speed is of the essence

the cool sword was mostly taken as accepting a gift, and also to protect the civvies better (as the expected issues were centered around civvies being too weak to move, and being targeted by enemies)

>>6301027
Wonder who is going to find Fiona naked and babbling incomprehensibly in three days.

>>6301039
Hopefully not Mama. Can you imagine the embarrassment?

>>6301039
She's got her sports bra and panties on, not to mention the fuckhuge jacket. She's not entirely naked, right?

>>6301393
My headcannon is that she started totally naked but has now cycled through the clothes of multiple dead enemies.

>>6301033
by cleanup missions, I was referring to the snails and meat trees. Not this hostage thing.

Really, I do wonder what kind of impetus draws on the need to chug MULTIPLE perv-

>>6292973
what the fuck?

>>6293199
mein gott

....

fine, fuckit, let's go. I wonder what's stopping the stormwatch from sending 3 L1s with 2 doses of pervitin to face the troll.

>>6301416
Kek, that's our girl.

I don't know what the next level is going to provide, but I think Butcher is going to be essential with Warrior.

Certain+Brave is great on its own, but Certain+Intercept+Brave? With mom's sword? I think that's going to be great with or without permanent Stoic.

>>6301419
glad you're all caught up
we get a little silly

update soon

>>6300858
>>6300932
The black gives way to white, to gray, and a half-conscious blur follows.

You are carrying two coats. Your turnout trousers are slacking on your hips as you had to tie the coats up to carry them easier. Bullets and baubles are stuffed into your pockets. The hat on your head was too silly to leave behind. A man with a ramshackle spear asks you about the gunshots and the pistols he sees you have. He shot first, you explain. Some... Chicagite? Chicagoan? Chicagish? He was a government agent. Probably sent to destabilize the region or whatever it is Americans do. You fish out his ID and some other papers and hand them over and just move on. He lets you leave.

After another haze, you find yourself with a flask of water. You are standing in the center of what could, if you held your head low, could be mistaken for a derelict street of Prague. damage concrete was recompacted into bricks, giving way to the earth underneath. There is a patch of soil in the middle of the street. It has been beaten by footfalls, but the damage is new. The fact that it's new damage tells you that something used to be here. And it's gone now.

To the left, past a wrought-iron fence is a small amphitheatre with dozens of benches. You walk in.

There's not many people here. A couple people sitting on the stage. One person sitting on a chair in the far corner. You take up a seat and settle down.

Plan.

Plan plan plan.

The mind is proccupied. It's hot. It's cold. The human experience is currently an eclectic scramble of random things and sensations.

You throw that man's black coat over your head and lay down to sort your thoughts in perfect deprivation of sight. There. Better. Now you can think about something.

... Like that sword.

You huddle the sword close to you in the dark.

What is it?

>>6301500
A swarm of machines, occupying and controlling a larger machine. A hive. Functionally, the free drones are not much different than the gun used by Blythe. It has functions, and after performing an attack, it returns to nest in the sword.

But strangely, this dust looks like Omer's "face." A swarm of gold dust.

And if Omer was alive, a consciousness carried upon the machine, then that would mean Auringvalo and Daybreak...

...

If it could give you a reply, what would you want to know?
>Does he have a name? [7]
>Where is he from? Maybe from that place really north? [7]
>What made him choose this? [5]
>It is a soul in a swarm, not a GPS. [2]
>You have a moral question. [?!!?]

Do you have a name, you want to ask.

The spirit does not speak. He is not a force that sends reverberations through the air. He is more like... a bubble, or a tent. To hear, you have to press yourself against the border, and listen. Like how you stop and listen to the heartbeat of the world.

Perhaps it has always been that anyone who can attune is simply able to cross that threshold.

You step inside.

>>6301501
Auringvalo is good enough, he makes his thoughts known to you.
... The past should be laid to rest.

But why? You don't seem like a bad person.

I hope I was a good person.
But I know I was a terrible leader.

You were the leader of the expedition?

No. I was the lord of a failing city. The world was becoming such a complicated place. I was too slow to adapt with the times...

I don't think I've heard of any city that far in the North? Did Svalbard grow that much, or...
Just where are you from?

A city called D͔y͚̕l̶̹a̧̮t̢̻h̘͘.͉

I̵̴̡̮̺ͅņ̡̳͓́ͅ ̨͚͎̮͞͞Ļ̷̴̴͉̭̣̳̹̟͚͕̪̀͜͢͜͠ḙ̸̵̢̧̛̙͚̙̣̺͉̙̻͘͝͡m̷̶̢̨̞̳̰̠̫͚͍̠̤̕̕̕͢͟ú͖̰̘̝̺̱̳̯̠́̕͘͡͡͝͠r̸̸̸̡̢̳͇̯͉͙͇͉̳͍̕̕̕͝ì̷̡̨̘̺̦̪̜͉͈̬͘͝͝ͅa̡̨̢͓̺͓͖̪͉̤̣͙̕͢͞͝.

>>6301501
does green mean we ask something? uhhhh

>Are we worthy?
>Are the ones who hold our reigns worthy?
>Do you hold hope for the future? For the now?

The lord of atlantis?

>>6301501
Auringvalo is good enough, he makes his thoughts known to you.
... The past should be laid to rest.

But why? You don't seem like a bad person.

I hope I was a good person.
But I do know that I was a terrible leader.

You were the leader of the expedition?

No. I was the lord of a failing city. I was too slow to adapt with the times... The world was becoming a darker place.

I don't think I've heard of any city in the North? Did Svalbard grow that much, or...
Where are you from?

A c͕͡í̖t͇͟y̷͈ ̮͡c̥͢ạ͝l͈͘l̼ḙ̵d̶͉ Ḑ̷̩̜͇͍̀͠ý̛̻̖̞͈͘͠l̵̡̢̘͖̯̯a̸̧̘̼͓͟t͓͕̳͈͜͟͜͡ḩ͎̞̘͖̕͘͝.̶̨̺͍̻̹̕͜

I̵̴̡̮̺ͅņ̡̳͓́ͅ ̨͚͎̮͞͞Ļ̷̴̴͉̭̣̳̹̟͚͕̪̀͜͢͜͠ḙ̸̵̢̧̛̙͚̙̣̺͉̙̻͘͝͡m̷̶̢̨̞̳̰̠̫͚͍̠̤̕̕̕͢͟ú͖̰̘̝̺̱̳̯̠́̕͘͡͡͝͠r̸̸̸̡̢̳͇̯͉͙͇͉̳͍̕̕̕͝ì̷̡̨̘̺̦̪̜͉͈̬͘͝͝ͅa̡̨̢͓̺͓͖̪͉̤̣͙̕͢͞͝.

>>6301514
Large footsteps stop your train of thought. Your mind vacates all internal monologue and activates naught but primal instinct.

"Flippant Uplander. Afraid to break upon us?"
"Such strange eyes. No fear were in them. Her eyes were tired for years, and through them she smiled with elation."
"Black Swans are odd indeed."
"Yes."

You're almost certain that if it weren't for Durant's sweaty coat and the drugs, that thing would have smelled you. Peering from the coat, you see it - them. Iika and Iida. The chatterbox. Lorppo.

"And in the same breath as that declaration, she is asking for more lemmings! Who would be stupid enough to fall for her lies?"
"No, no. They must have other means for our destruction."
"Plague? Drought?"
"The Weeping Willow went mad. They might use higher powers."
"Then we should lash out harder! Expose the truth to the city! Drag the whole of Helsinki to the gallows with us!"
"She knows more. She will give answers."

What the hell are they talking about? Other means for their destruction?

If they're discussing alternative means to kill the underdwellers, the original was-

wait

what did they mean by this
>please freyja maaema any god listening tell you that you heard it all wrong [5]
>Katriina canceled the pogrom against the Undercity, forestalling your ability to rise ranks [6]

What the fuck are you doing here if not to get to Level 3?

You didn't come here to kill monsters and living trees and get caught up in all this.

You want a promotion. That's all you want.

Your family. Your child. Your future. That's all you ever wanted.

With a sharp breath you throw yourself back under the black coat to control yourself. You imagine the little fingers grabbing your hand as you grip your mother's sword. An heirloom in your hands that will never be reached toward in curiosity, to which you would reply to keep her hands off it. Not here. Not in Helsinki. And where else can you go? You got here off Nepotism. If this door shuts, that's it. It's back to the lottery, only now you are stuck in this Frutiger Aero shithole and not the comfortable lazy place of home. So close, but now Katriina has shut the door. And for what? Why? You don't understand.

Schiesse.

...

Before you is a bridge. It will carry you over the vast chasm between where you are and where you want to be.

You are afraid of crossing it.

With a steeling breath, you lose presence of mind.

One anon, roll 1d100. Success threshold; 200. This threshold for success on this type of roll persists throughout the quest, and is lowered by the value rolled. Your moral fiber and Noble heart have doubled the threshold's starting value. Until you pass this roll, You cannot do what it is you set out to do, and other rolls will fail to achieve their normal outcomes.
A second anon, roll 8d8. This is a trivial roll.

Rolled 61 (1d100)

>>6301515
I'm err, okay with not passing this threshold

Rolled 7, 7, 7, 7, 8, 3, 3, 4 = 46 (8d8)

>>6301515
Everything comes tumbling down? TUMBLING DOWN TUMBLING DOWN TUMBLING DOWN

Rolled 4, 4, 4, 6, 1, 2, 2, 4 = 27 (8d8)

>>6301515
Practicality beyond our reach but perhaps its better that way?

>>6301500
>>6301501
Cute depressed girl with a big sacred sword, sounds a lot like Transistor to me

Cool kantele tune here, so I think this is quest relevant?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sNMNyA589hM

>>6301559
Quest relevant image

>>6301516
>>6301549
It would all be so easy if you were someone else, you think to yourself. To reach L3. To do what has to be done.

What has to be done? Asks your sword.

Something awful. But your peers have all done it - some more willing than others. Sumika had been outright challenged by a belligerent child of a crime lord. Doesn't sound so bad, until you remind your sword that this was a fifteen year old kid thinking he was on top. It must have felt awful being in her shoes.

And it will feel awful in yours. Whatever happens; either the Stormwatch never gives you the chance, or the day comes and it will not be just one, or you just stand by and watch the horror go on and fail yourself. The day will come, and it will not be a good one.

He seems to understand. I regret to say that I have done awful things in what I felt was a greater good, but that is no excuse.

There is no other path. The other path is luck. The other path is acceptance. The other path is one where everyone else is living the life you want to have because they have the strength to do what you couldn't. They get to be human. And you won't have a better chance than now to do what you need to and nothing more.

So you grab your sword, much to its protest, to its distaste, though it now knows the situation you are in. If you were to get it done, and get out, you would stain your hands with the least blood. Is that the most noble thing to do, out of the things you can?

>>6302299
Before you can even reconsider the path, you've walked blocks. You stumbled into an alleyway. Something happened. Your bleary stream of consciousness sharpens back into focus with the clash of blades.

>>6302300
You can't tell if you tried to swing at him, or if you merely sought him and he charged at you with that broken sword. All you know is that you have crossed swords, and there is not a single thought in your head that approves of this fight. The sword remains cold, though the voice in the sword is screaming at you to stop.

But if not him, who else? At least it is with someone who hates you. Someone who wants you dead. You can tell from the look in their eyes. Rage. Teeming, seething, roiling, boiling, wroth with wrath.

Sisu.

This poor boy wants your head, and if you can't get what you want, why not let him have what he wants?

With a storm of emotions controlling your gasp, you overpower the boy's blade and kick him back. You can't bring yourself to charge at him while he's vulnerable. You know you have a loaded firearm, but can't bring yourself to draw. He scrambles backward and to his feet like a dog, teeth gritted so tight they might shatter.

"You people... You killed my friends. You killed the Weeping Tree. I saw it. With my own eyes, I saw it!"

From the shadows, a herd of animals stalked into view.

In a tree-barren stretch of moors in the Finnish Lapplands where not a soul lurked for a hundred miles, this young boy cried on the remains of his family for someone to protect him. There, as he wailed in the place where no one else could see or hear or imagine anything else, a tree fell in the woodless moorlands. Wayward spirits flocked to him. Spirits who once were to guide children like him, untimely separated by cruel twists of fate. The pack came to guide him here, where he promised to protect others like him. A little boy with no skill or strength; just a broken sword and the fiery eyes of youth painting their perception upon reality.

SISU
And the Luonto of Lost Children

"Well!? Say something! Uplander!"

There's no need for words.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P4mtDByCItM

In reality, he is weak. But in his mind, he stands a chance. And that's all he thinks he needs.
Something dawns on you. Maybe, he could kill you.
Maybe he should.
He points his sword at you with one hand, and the world seems to shift.

You cannot comprehend the true nature of... whatever this is. In fact, there's something wrong with him. He's not Aberrant, but still...
Roll for Attunement. Two anons, roll 4d8, target 4.

>>6302300
You can't tell if you tried to swing at him, or if you merely sought him and he charged at you with that broken sword. All you know is that you have crossed swords, and there is not a single thought in your head that approves of this fight. The sword remains cold, though the voice in the sword is screaming at you to stop.

But if not him, who else? At least it is with someone who hates you. Someone who wants you dead. You can tell from the look in their eyes. Rage. Teeming, seething, roiling, boiling, wroth with wrath.

Sisu.

This poor boy wants your head, and if you can't get what you want, why not let him have what he wants?

With a storm of emotions controlling your gasp, you overpower the boy's blade and kick him back. You can't bring yourself to charge at him while he's vulnerable. You know you have a loaded firearm, but can't bring yourself to draw. He scrambles backward and to his feet like a dog, teeth gritted so tight they might shatter.

"You people... You killed my friends. You killed the Weeping Tree. I saw it. With my own eyes, I saw it!"

From the shadows, a herd of animals stalked into view.

In a tree-barren stretch of moors in the Finnish Lapplands where not a soul lurked for a hundred miles, this young boy cried on the remains of his family for someone to protect him. There, as he wailed in the place where no one else could see or hear or imagine anything else, a tree fell in the woodless moorlands. Wayward spirits flocked to him. Spirits who once were to guide children like him, untimely separated by cruel twists of fate. The pack came to guide him here, where he promised to protect others like him. A little boy with no skill or strength; just a broken sword and the fiery eyes of youth painting their perception upon reality.

SISU
And the Luonto of Lost Children

"Well!? Say something! Uplander!"

There's no need for words.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P4mtDByCItM

In reality, he is weak. But in his mind, he stands a chance. And that's all he thinks he needs.
Something dawns on you. Maybe, he could kill you.
Maybe he should.
He points his sword at you with one hand, and the world seems to shift.

You cannot comprehend the true nature of... whatever this is. In fact, there's something wrong with him. He's not Aberrant, but still...
Roll for Attunement. Two anons, roll 4d8, target 4.

>>6302300
You can't tell if you tried to swing at him, or if you merely sought him and he charged at you with that broken sword. All you know is that you have crossed swords, and there is not a single thought in your head that approves of this fight. The sword remains cold, though the voice in the sword is screaming at you to stop.

But if not him, who else? At least it is with someone who hates you. Someone who wants you dead. You can tell from the look in their eyes. Rage. Teeming, seething, roiling, boiling, wroth with wrath.

Sisu.

This poor boy wants your head, and if you can't get what you want, why not let him have what he wants?

With a storm of emotions controlling your gasp, you overpower the boy's blade and kick him back. You can't bring yourself to charge at him while he's vulnerable. You know you have a loaded firearm, but can't bring yourself to draw. He scrambles backward and to his feet like a dog, teeth gritted so tight they might shatter.

"You people... You killed my friends. You killed the Weeping Tree. I saw it. With my own eyes, I saw it!"

From the shadows, a herd of animals stalked into view.

In a tree-barren stretch of swamp in the Finnish Lapplands where only one soul lurked for a hundred miles, this young boy cried on the remains of his family for someone to protect him. There, as he wailed in the place where no one else could see or hear or imagine anything else, a tree fell in the woodless moorlands. Wayward spirits flocked to him. Spirits who once were to guide children like him, untimely separated by cruel twists of fate. The pack came to guide him here, where he promised to protect others like him. A little boy with no skill or strength; just a broken sword and the fiery eyes of youth painting their perception upon reality.

SISU
And the Luonto of Lost Children

"Well!? Say something! Uplander!"

There's no need for words.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P4mtDByCItM

In reality, he is weak. But in his mind, he stands a chance. And that's all he thinks he needs.
Something dawns on you. Maybe, he could kill you.
Maybe he should.
He points his sword at you with one hand, and the world seems to shift.

You cannot comprehend the true nature of... whatever this is. In fact, there's something wrong with him. He's not Aberrant, but still...
Roll for Attunement. Two anons, roll 4d8, target 4.

Rolled 1, 8, 7, 4 = 20 (4d8)

>>6302309
The math still doesn't make sense to me.

With the rate that people die here, and how few the Deathwatch are compared to the rest of the population, the lottery system is way, WAY too slow to reach a population neutral r naught.

If there were many other ways to reach L3 than the stormwatch, fionas dad would've recommended them.

Are they deliberately squeezing out the middle class? Slowly deplete them until there's only the corrupt elite, Deathwatch, and illegal organ donors. No need to develop new technologies for Stormwatch because all the real tech is going to Deathwatch. The american robots might get a pass, but that's why they had so much beareacracy to sortie at all, because control over them was planned from the start.

Rolled 3, 3, 1, 3 = 10 (4d8)

>>6302315
>deliberately squeezing out the middle class
History repeating itself
>until there's only the corrupt elite, Deathwatch, and illegal organ donors
History repeating itself

Eventually the elites of the MNP will be unable to restrain their greed and envy, and turn on each other vying for total control, unsatisfied with simply being one of their own wealthy and indolent ingroup like all the others of "their level". Their permanent sociopathic lust for power for power's sake will not be abated. And so the world will end and mankind will work from scraps once again. Unless the Deathwatch go full Praetorian Guard worldwide and decapitate all the elites simultaneously. What then?

>>6302309
Rollan

Rolled 1, 6, 2, 3 = 12 (4d8)

>>6302309
There is a beast in man that must be exercised.

I think we're gonna need some pervitin dice. Or tilting windmills.

>>6302330
In case you want to, you have 32d10 Pervitin dice to burn through - or I could decide to use an amount I decide appropriate for Fiona attempting to get something right. This is a personally impactful moment for her.
Oh, and I have decided to rule that you may use Tilting Windmills on morality dice, and take either of the results you so choose. In case you all feel one way or the other on brutalizing this child or any other.

>>6302350
I'd spend 6 more dice.

>>6302357
The next person who agrees with you can roll 6d10.

>>6302350
yeah, 6 dice works

Rolled 8, 8, 5, 10, 5, 2 = 38 (6d10)

6 dice plus tilting windmills.

Is this kid a wiederganger?

a strange though occured to me
our mother found civilization far north, one that had to sustain itself
they did not wipe them out, at least, from what we know
so civilization that is not under the current government can exist, one where children are created

there are restored wilds all around, the population small

so why are the enclaves under cities instead of far far away?