Search Results
ID: Nvh1BTbG/qst/6261156#6263779
6/23/2025, 3:49:30 AM
>>6263777
“E-EXCELLENTLY DONE, LORD TRISTAIN!” Nadia yells from behind you. Her eyes were still shut tightly, though you could see the faint trace of tears there. The normally cool sorceress was unquestionably out of her element here. “SHALL WE CONTINUE THE SEARCH FOR ELRIC?”
>“No. We’re likely too late. Let's turn around and regroup with the others.”
Elric, just what the hell were you thinking? The sword could not have consumed him completely. There had to be some lingering trace of him still there. The absurdity of potentially having to face him in the Competition was not lost on you. You would make every effort to break the boy’s curse and ensure his safety. But if he really was growing stronger, it may be difficult to do while holding back. Mystletainn, a cursed sword with the ability to grow stronger and influence its wielder. The list of shit you’d have to deal with just seemed to be growing larger.
By the time you regroup with your companions, the sun has already begun setting. The others crowd around you and Fionn, concern evident in their faces when they notice that not only was the boy not in your grasp, but that the wyvern was somewhat more charred since they’d last seen him. You explain to them your battle with the Terror, as well as how Marek had once again communicated with you.
“The sort of magic you’re describing is not common.” Alvin says. “To communicate with an individual via telepathy is sorcery on the same tier as the Royal Sages. One thing is for certain, a spell like that would only work if Marek was nearby. The head of the Cult of the Serpent being this close to Morfis is almost unthinkable though.”
>“He’s not the head anymore, I am. Remember?”
“I wish I did not…” Alvin groans.
“So this bastard Marek helped Elric get to Morfis? How is such a thing possible?” Cuthbert asks. The man’s mood had soured considerably as he paced back and forth, fists balled. “If he’s nearby, we should go get him and find out what he did!”
“We’d have an easier time finding a needle in a haystack than an experienced rogue mage in these sands.” Alvin sighs. “Though I dislike it, I’m afraid we can do nothing but proceed forward to Morfis.”
The morale of the camp falls to a low state upon the revelation that Elric was indeed out of reach. This upsets you, not only because the boy has created further work, but because the way you saw it, everyone should be excited you’d finally made it to your ultimate destination. Your thoughts turn towards your youngest cousin, Lila. She was good friends with Elric, unaware that he’d harbored feelings for her. You briefly imagine having to explain to her how you’d been forced to kill her childhood friend because you’d allowed him to be possessed by an ancient desert spirit bent on vengeance.
You spit on the ground. That certainly would not do…
>Choose a companion to speak with.
“E-EXCELLENTLY DONE, LORD TRISTAIN!” Nadia yells from behind you. Her eyes were still shut tightly, though you could see the faint trace of tears there. The normally cool sorceress was unquestionably out of her element here. “SHALL WE CONTINUE THE SEARCH FOR ELRIC?”
>“No. We’re likely too late. Let's turn around and regroup with the others.”
Elric, just what the hell were you thinking? The sword could not have consumed him completely. There had to be some lingering trace of him still there. The absurdity of potentially having to face him in the Competition was not lost on you. You would make every effort to break the boy’s curse and ensure his safety. But if he really was growing stronger, it may be difficult to do while holding back. Mystletainn, a cursed sword with the ability to grow stronger and influence its wielder. The list of shit you’d have to deal with just seemed to be growing larger.
By the time you regroup with your companions, the sun has already begun setting. The others crowd around you and Fionn, concern evident in their faces when they notice that not only was the boy not in your grasp, but that the wyvern was somewhat more charred since they’d last seen him. You explain to them your battle with the Terror, as well as how Marek had once again communicated with you.
“The sort of magic you’re describing is not common.” Alvin says. “To communicate with an individual via telepathy is sorcery on the same tier as the Royal Sages. One thing is for certain, a spell like that would only work if Marek was nearby. The head of the Cult of the Serpent being this close to Morfis is almost unthinkable though.”
>“He’s not the head anymore, I am. Remember?”
“I wish I did not…” Alvin groans.
“So this bastard Marek helped Elric get to Morfis? How is such a thing possible?” Cuthbert asks. The man’s mood had soured considerably as he paced back and forth, fists balled. “If he’s nearby, we should go get him and find out what he did!”
“We’d have an easier time finding a needle in a haystack than an experienced rogue mage in these sands.” Alvin sighs. “Though I dislike it, I’m afraid we can do nothing but proceed forward to Morfis.”
The morale of the camp falls to a low state upon the revelation that Elric was indeed out of reach. This upsets you, not only because the boy has created further work, but because the way you saw it, everyone should be excited you’d finally made it to your ultimate destination. Your thoughts turn towards your youngest cousin, Lila. She was good friends with Elric, unaware that he’d harbored feelings for her. You briefly imagine having to explain to her how you’d been forced to kill her childhood friend because you’d allowed him to be possessed by an ancient desert spirit bent on vengeance.
You spit on the ground. That certainly would not do…
>Choose a companion to speak with.
Page 1