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As Rene's father laments the failure of his underlings to capture a certain smuggler, she drifts out of focus for the next step in this three-hero tale. She, her sister, and the rest have an otherwise-uneventful boat ride to take, as Alfred eludes capture and swerves around Gerxel fleets with his very, very fast boat loaded with Wyvern-slaying Wyrmite.

Young Sir Dyrus, accompanied by his grandfather, maid, and some other assorted retainers, approaches the capital of Noba, a city in the Eastern end of the nation known as August's Reach. He has been informed that King Augustus prefers those who speak their mind, but also asked to let Sir Darren handle speaking on behalf of Hauteclere's rebellion.

Samson, in a slightly earlier point in history, has another seemingly-uneventful day in Holmstead. None concerned about the impending invasion, he goes about his day as any performer and scholar would. As for what this means, however, that is to be said in a moment.

Which of the latter two young men will be addressed first?

>A. Dyrus
>B. Samson

>>46208585
>B. Samson

>>46208585
>>B. Samson

>>46208585
>B. Samson

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>>46208603
>>46208613
You are now Samson.

And as morning segues into late-morning, any self-respecting bard such as yourself can surely be found busily...

Sleeping in, without really meaning to.

Such lovely dreams you were having, so fruitful, so surreal... And then you find yourself suffocating, the sound of a low shriek.

Panicked, you spring awake to find a fuzzy annoyance on your head, meowing.

Pushing the cat off of you, you gather your thoughts. Yes, that's right, you paid your parents a visit the evening before, it grew late, and you found yourself passed out in your old bedroom before you knew it.

If this damned cat is shouting like this, it must mean someone's forgotten to feed her.

>A. Guess you should go do that
>B. Ponder just how much you've overslept
>C. No, no, she lies about this if she thinks she can get away with it
>D. Write-in reaction

>>46208861
>A. Guess you should go do that

>>46208861
>>A. Guess you should go do that

>>46208861
>A. Guess you should go do that

>>46208861
>A. Guess you should go do that

>>46208879
>>46208966
>>46208979
Well, she's your cat, you guess. Your school refuses to allow pets, so she's had to take on the life of a lazy lazer, living with your parents. You make a point of calling her a lazy mooch before going down to the kitchen, during which the ingrate runs around your legs, purring a lot and nearly making you fall down the stairs a lot.

When your bedhead droops in front of your face, it serves as a reminder to tie it back quickly before entering your home's pantry. Passing through the dining room to get there, you notice your mother sitting at the table, idly staring at an empty glass and looking inattentive.

It takes the sound of you setting a plate of your cat's food on the ground before she grumbles, seeming to finally register your presence.

"So that explains it," she grumbles in far from the most friendly tone, rubbing her temples, "that cat's been trying to wake you for hours."

>A. Why didn't she feed her, then?
>B. Ask what time it is
>C. Apologize
>D. Write-in response

>>46209256
>>A. Why didn't she feed her, then?

>>46209256
>B. Ask what time it is

>>46209256
>>B. Ask what time it is

>>46209256
>B. Ask what time it is

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>>46209280
>>46209281
"Hours? Why didn't you just feed her, then?" You ask your mother with a displeased tone.

"It's your cat. You need to be more attentive when she hasn't seen you in weeks... B-rh-besides, I've been busy." Her eyes lift up from the empty glass, residue of an unidentified (you can guess what it is, though) liquid at the bottom of its glass.

Well, good to see your family has greater priorities than keeping your pet fed. You really need to move off-campus so this doesn't... Wait, though, hours? "Grh... What time is it?"

"Do I look like I was paying attention?" She bites back bitterly. "Gods, you're irresponsible."

Well, that's... Helpful. "Love you too, mum," you say, fetching an apple and hurrying out of your home.

"W-rgh-watch your attitude!" She shouts. "Is this the sort of manner that school of yours gives its students?"

You decide to risk an inevitable further tongue-lashing in the future by not bothering with a response. Besides, you damn well might be missing something an acquaintance has been planning for a couple months now.

Millicent, a dancer you met through Raleigh, had enlisted your help in organizing a performance in Holmstead's central plaza. You're to provide vocal accompaniment to her work, so Raleigh put it.

He'd also said, "no sweat if you can't make it," all those weeks ago. "We've got a similar vocal range, so I could step in if you can't do it."

>A. On second thought, just let him cover it. Knowing Raleigh, he's definitely gonna be there.
>B. And he'd definitely do it, too. You have to haul ass if you don't want to be upstaged.
>C. You know what, you'd rather see something he performed than do something yourself
>D. Write-in reaction

>>46209767
>B. And he'd definitely do it, too. You have to haul ass if you don't want to be upstaged.

>>46209767
>>B. And he'd definitely do it, too. You have to haul ass if you don't want to be upstaged.

>>46209767
>>B. And he'd definitely do it, too. You have to haul ass if you don't want to be upstaged.

>>46209767
>B. And he'd definitely do it, too. You have to haul ass if you don't want to be upstaged.

>>46209790
>>46209803
>>46209820
>>46209847
The man's already playing the Lyre, too. If he blows the crowd-to-be away with his singing, not only will you look like an ass, but Millie's going to be damn impressed.

You barely even know the dancer outside of the practices that your senior swung you on, but it still puts a poor taste in your mouth to think that Raleigh's going to win yet another one. Things have been a bit awkward between you two since your discourse about impending invasions, at least on your end, and you would very much like to be on par with him for once.

With much hurrying, you're able to reach the back of the stage that's been set up for the occasion, huffing and breathing deeply.

A redheaded, brown-eyed woman with a short ponytail, most of her outfit covered up at the moment by an oversized emerald-green coat, is speaking to Raleigh when you show up. "Hey, it's not like he'd just ditch-" He turns around at your approach, giving you and the other girl both a hearty pat on the back, which prompts another wheeze from you. "Well, speak of Ger!"

"Where were you?!" The redhead (this would be Millie) asks. "We have... five minutes before showtime now!"

"Hey, hey, he made it..." Raleigh reassures her. "Just like I said." Looking over your exhausted self, he then helpfully adds, "er... You want some water or something, man? You look like crap."

>A. You would
>B. That won't be necessary
>C. Simply apologize for lateness
>D. Explain that your cat was suffocating you in your sleep
>E. Write-in response
>F. Say nothing

>>46210142
>>D. Explain that your cat was suffocating you in your sleep

>>46210142
>A. You would

>>46210142
>>A. You would
Like they would care about our excuses.

>>46210180
>>46210210
"Er, yes, I would... I would like that, I mean."

Millie sighs as Raleigh goes to find you a nice glass, her demeanor changing quickly. "Look, sorry I got mad there. It's just that I've been planning this for awhile, and Raleigh talked you up a lot, so..."

You clear your throat idly. "It's... perfectly alright. I'm the one who ran late."

"Oh, I'm not denying it!" Millie chuckles, giving you a friendly punch in the arm. "You're a lazybones."

"Y-gh-yeah," you say, mid-clearing-throat-again, "I'm not much in a fight, but if you ever need an inspiring song, or feel like talking about magic..."

"Here ya go!" Raleigh's voice calls from behind you as he holds out a glass of water. Accepting it, you take a nice, long sip, exhaling afterwards and thanking the guy. "Not a problem. Can't have our vocalist having a sore throat."

"Well," Millie says, shedding her coat to reveal a similarly-green leotard beneath it, holding it out and looking towards the stage, "wish me luck."

>A. Wish her luck
>B. Take her coat
>C. Just sort of stand there awkwardly
>D. Write-in response

>>46210462
>A. Wish her luck

>>46210462
>>B. Take her coat

>>46210462
>A. Wish her
>B. Take her coat

>>46210570
>>46210612
>>46210642
"Good luck," you say half-mindedly, a bit distracted by the fact that you accepted her coat as she struts off, only to be lightly back-slapped by Raleigh again.

"Break a leg!" He exclaims slightly louder. Rolling his eyes at you, he finds his lute, whispering quickly, "you don't actually wish people luck in this business. It's bad luck. And stop holding onto her coat, ya weirdo."

"Right, right... Just slipped my mind." Having been simultaneously called weird and daft, you set her coat on a chair, wasting no time as you and Raleigh end up standing at the side of the stage, looking out to the crowd.

With a strum of Raleigh's lyre, the performance begins. Difficult as it is to keep your eyes peeled off of the dancer you've assisted, you manage for the entirety of the event, you and Raleigh's accompanying tunes being subtle, written around Millie's routines. So Raleigh described it to you, her moves were inspired by the tavern-told tales of two local cavaliers. Some cliche anecdote about a weak, outclassed village girl rising to one of the highest positions of power in her homeland. "I, uh, told her it'd probably be easier to interpret with more performers, but Millicent would have none of it."

The plaza is, as a whole, impressed with the performance, the lyre player and dancer's named both being called in awe.

Not much is said about the lyrics of the piece, or the you who wrote and sang them.

>A. These people don't appreciate true art!
>B. Who's to say that means they didn't care for that? You're just not as well-known!
>C. Yeah, you know you're not as good at your medium of choice.
>D. Write-in response

>>46211022
>B. Who's to say that means they didn't care for that? You're just not as well-known!

>>46211022
>A. These people don't appreciate true art!

>>46211022
>Who's to say that means they didn't care for that? You're just not as well-known!

>>46211022
>>A. These people don't appreciate true art!
Simple minded people, really

>>46211061
>>46211079
>>46211068
>>46211177
You weren't really the focal point of the show like Millie, nor are you the local celebrity that is Raleigh. It's understandable that they wouldn't know your NAME right away...

But your singing should still speak for itself. Not a soul was speaking about it, too busy praising Raleigh for being Raleigh. You bet they had no appreciation for the subtlety of Millicent's moves, either, simply liking her for being shapely and bouncing around in front of them. You're happy for her, genuinely, that people liked this performance, but the way that your words weren't acknowledged tells you that these people couldn't TRULY appreciate the work.

You, her, and Raleigh are all having your talents wasted with these sorts of show.

Raleigh and Millie either don't notice the same thing you did, or don't care, since the three of you find yourselves in a waterside cafe a short time later, the two of them absolutely jovial at the positive response to the show. Raleigh's treat, he said (though you insisted on helping him cover it. Really don't want to get shown up)!

"It was... Actually really scary, actually going out in front of everybody like that. How do you sleep at night with your plays being shown so often?!"

"The anxiety never goes away completely," Raleigh responds to her, "you just learn to channel it, rally your thoughts into greater heights!"

Millie giggles. "Well said..." And then she looks at you, your food barely having been touched, tea going cool. "Are you alright, Sam? You've seemed sour..."

>A. You're fine!
>B. Just a bit tired's all
>C. You feel unappreciated
>D. ...
>E. Write-in response

>>46211370
>D. ...
Let's try the "mopey teenager."

>>46211370
>A. You're fine!

>>46211370
>>B. Just a bit tired's all

>>46211370
>A. You're fine!

>>46211370
>>B. Just a bit tired's all

>>46211435
>>46211469
>>46211459
>>46211507
"I'm fine!" You exclaim, slightly louder than you probably needed to, before rubbing your head. "Just, uh... Had a late night, if it wasn't obvious. I was visiting my folks for the first time in awhile, and..."

"Say no more," Raleigh says, stopping the conversation thread before it goes into too personal places. You don't particularly have the happiest relationship with them, and you don't think you're close enough to them to get that deep on purpose. "We've all been there."

"Ugh, parents." Millie groans. "So overbearing..."

"Hey, we're living out on our own, but for most of us it was only a couple years back we were still being taken care of. Hard to adjust to that sorta thing, so they must miss the heck out of us."

"I mean, when you put it that way..." Millie smiles. "You always have a way of putting things into perspective."

Now's probably not a good time to mention how unpleasant your visits home actually are. You don't think your parents can stand each other, much less pretend to for the sake of someone who's known this for his entire life. You probably wouldn't have stayed the night if you didn't miss that damn cat.

>A. Just don't mention these thoughts
>B. Pretend to agree with Raleigh
>C. Let it out anyway
>D. Write-in response

>>46211750
>D. Write-in response
It's a nice thought, at least.

>>46211770
+1

>>46211770
seconded

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>>46211770
"It's a nice thought," you say, trying to sound happy with it, even curling your lips into a mild smile. You'd be more willing to be open about this 1-on-1 with Raleigh, but with Millie there, let alone with you still not knowing her that well... Recalling Raleigh's words earlier, you must already be on thin ice with the dancer as it is.

Speaking of Millicent! "Er, hey!" She says, looking between you and Raleigh, "maybe the three of us could spend a little while boatwatching, as long as we're so close to the pier."

Raleigh accepts on both of your behalves, not that you would have declined. After your lunch is done, you end up sitting by said pier, Raleigh standing, and Millie sitting a slight ways away, her coat draped over her shoulders like a cloak instead of being used for its intended purpose, slender legs dangling over the edge.

"There's always been something... Fascinating about boats," she explains, "so a lot of the time when I was little, I would just. Come out here and spend an entire day just waiting, talking to people." Chuckling a bit, she adds, "can't do it as much now that I'm grown up, but I still get out here once in awhile. Meet some pretty interesting people that way."

>A. Suggest that she take to sea travel
>B. Ask for examples
>C. Write-in response
>D. Attempt to flirt (suggestions preferred)
>E. Silently enjoy the scene

>>46212150
>B. Ask for examples

>>46212150
>B. Ask for examples
>D. Attempt to flirt

>>46212150
>B. Ask for examples

>>46212150
>>B. Ask for examples

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>>46212208
>>46212249
>>46212263
>>46212233
"I wouldn't mind hearing about some of those interesting people. Could just listen to you all day, you know?"

Millie blinks. "...right." She looks back towards Raleigh a moment before speaking. "So, there was this lady who kept getting mad at her crew for not singing their 'theme song.' Ran into her a couple times, and she offered me a spot in her crew last time we met... Then immediately took it back when she heard me singing."

"C'mon, it can't be that bad," Raleigh challenges. "I know you're a dancer mainly, but..."

Clearing her throat, Millie "sings" her response, "are you certain of that~?"

Ow. Ow, ow, ow... And her voice is usually so soft... "Ergh... I mean, I could probably show you a bit of how it's done if..."

"Oh, no, you don't need to do anything like that!" Speaking quickly, Millicent moves into her next few anecdotes. Wolfskin treasure hunters, a winged mage who claimed to be visiting from the deserts, "and just recently, there was this albino swordsman with a parasol. He had total control over these guys who looked maybe twice his size, and..." Squinting, she leans forward a bit as a small ship comes in on the distance. "Speak of Ger..." She utters. "I think that's them right now."

>A. Maybe your lot should leave
>B. Keep sitting and watching
>C. Write-in response
>D. Warn Millie about leaning like that

>>46212621
>>D. Warn Millie about leaning like that

>>46212621
>B. Keep sitting and watching

>>46212621
>B. Keep sitting and watching
>D. Warn Millie about leaning like that

>>46212621
>B. Keep sitting and watching
>D. Warn Millie about leaning like that

>>46212621
>B. Keep sitting and watching
>D. Warn Millie about leaning like that

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>>46212660
>>46212646
>>46212718
>>46212822
>>46212834
"Don't lean so far forward," you warn. "I know you're graceful and all, but that'd still be a nasty fall."

"...yeah, I guess," Millicent says, leaning back slightly. "Still, though, that guy got me curious. Maybe now we'll learn what his deal was..."

A short time later, the boat in question docks nearby, a fellow with dark glasses and platinum-blond hair, touting a parasol over his shoulder, grumbles as the crew unloads several unmarked boxes. "Damned sun..." He grumbles, pushing his glasses up to rub his eyes. "If I wasn't pressed for time..."

Looking at you and Raleigh, Millie nods. Yep, that's the person she was thinking of.

"Time... Unmarked boxes..." Raleigh taps his chin, whispering to you two. "This guy's up to something sketchy..."

>A. Make the reasonable assumption he's smuggling something
>B. You have a theory (suggest a wrong answer here)
>C. One way to find out (go and ask him yourself)
>D. One way to find out! (Direct Raleigh to go and ask)
>E. Write-in response

>>46212961
>>A. Make the reasonable assumption he's smuggling something

>>46212961
>B. You have a theory
He's probably a spy for the invasion forces!

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>46213122
>>46213202

>>46213236
"Probably smuggling something," you whisper back.

"Yeah, and that boat was riding in from the Southeast... This guy stole from Gerxel territory when an invasion could come any day." Raleigh grins slightly, saying slightly more loudly, "I like the stones on you, guy!"

"..." The man stares him down.

"Millie..." You whisper, "was this guy as angry-looking when you met him?"

"Er, no, no, he actually seemed... Really polite at the time." Millicent stands up, stretching a bit and slipping her coat on properly, starting over. "Er, excuse-"

"We have no time for social calls," the man interrupts her. "If you value the Southwest's independence at all, you'll leave us be."

>A. Thankfully, you don't value it! (Keep questioning the guy)
>B. How dare he threaten Millie?!
>C. Maybe we should just back off
>D. Write-in response

>>46213386
>C. Maybe we should just back off

>>46213386
>C. Maybe we should just back off

>>46213386
>C. Maybe we should just back off
Ah, so he's helping us is he? That's nice.

>>46213386
>>C. Maybe we should just back off

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>>46213447
>>46213466
>>46213513
>>46213564
"Er, yeah, let's... Just back off from this," you strongly suggest. "Sorry for any trouble, sir."

"A wise response," he says. "Pleasantries are a waste of time." Drawing his sword, he points it toward his ship, directing his men to move more cargo. "Hurry it along. Our transporters will be here any minute now."

Raleigh and Millicent stand aside with you, watching the men work. Noticing the swordsman doing absolutely none of the heavy lifting, Raleigh approaches.

"So, you with the Gerxel resistance?" He asks in all too open a tone.

"..."

"How about King Augustus? You say the whole region's independence, so does that mean he's decided to leave us free?"

"..."

"Right, right, too many questions... I got one that a true ally of freedom would be happy to answer, though. Is the Gerxel truly planning a sea invasion?"

"..."

Raleigh blinks. "Er... That one has nothing to do with your secrets, sir."

"...you're right. My ship is... Much faster than anything in their fleet, so at the bare minimum, I would say I left their flagship... A week behind me."

"Wait... You mean they're actually coming for Holmstead?" Millie asks.

"...yes," the myrmidon responds. "Regional Director Waldrick and his daughters are to lead the invasion from this end before pushing into Noba from the South. Meanwhile, a force of Wyvern Riders approach Noba directly by land."

"How'd you find all this out?" Millie asks.

"My men and I ran into them personally on the Isle of Wyrm. Five of them were killed in an... ill-advised confrontation with these daughters, while the rest of us avoided any suspicion." Seems like this man is looser-lipped around pretty girls. That or he's just realized there's no reason to be an ass when he's loitering anyway.

"Gah," Raleigh says to himself. "If Waldrick's leading from the South, we've got trouble."

>A. Ask about this Waldrick
>B. Ask about his daughters (specification preferred)
>C. Be silent
>D. Write-in response

>>46213945
Whoops, the cavalier image was from certain characters showing up I pushed out of the post in favor of exposition. Pay it no mind, they'll show soon enough.

>>46213945
>A. Ask about this Waldrick

>>46213945
>>A. Ask about this Waldrick

>>46213945
>D. Ask about their numbers, how large does invasion force seem to be?

>>46214012
>>46214096
>>46214244
"Wait... Director Waldrick?" You ask. "Pretend for a moment I don't know anything at all about the Gerxel Empire. Who is he?"

Millie looks slightly relieved to not need to be the one to ask, and Raleigh responds. "The guy's terrifying. Brush up on your Gerxel history, he's spent 30 years of his life conquering in its name. Bunch of the Southern coast, the archipelago... All a part of his life's work. Never in his life has he seen the losing end of a battle, and he personally was said to have killed countless folks when they sacked the old island civilizations some...20-odd years ago."

"He parades around in heavy armor like it's nothing," the swordsman says. "Some of my own men made the mistake of going over my head and trying to take his daughters hostage. They had dispatched them before he was on the scene, but with the way that man and his aide barreled... I was almost afraid."

"And, uh..." You ask next, "how would you say their numbers are?"

"...their flagship was the only one that stopped by the Isle of Wyrm, so I cannot say for certain. That one alone had... at least 150 alone."

"...so we can expect them to have a lot more hundred-fifties in at least a week," Millicent says, frowning quite heavily.

"...by the sound of things, yes."

Holmstead, as a peaceful city-state, has had little need for military might on its own. Its combined military forces amount to maybe 250 people, give or take a few dozen, if you remember a statistic Raleigh spoke of at one point.

>A. Who is this guy anyway
>B. Ask another question (specify)
>C. Well, time to think about fleeing!
>D. Write-in response
>E. Be silent

>>46214523
>>C. Well, time to think about fleeing!

>>46214523
>A. Who is this guy anyway

>>46214523
>>B. Ask another question (specify)
Did you see the sisters? Were they cute?
>>C. Well, time to think about fleeing

>>46214554
>>46214552
>>46214677
"...who the hell are you, anyway?"

"...name's Alfred," he responds. "That's all you need to know about me."

"...right." Now you have a more important question. "These daughters of his... were they cute?"

Alfred reacts to your question as if struck with an arrow, clutching his shoulder and inhaling deeply. He provides the non-answer, "one had a magical bow. The other only used a lance, but also seemed to have a bow."

Curiously enough, once a pair of wagons arrived by the port, it's those red and green social knights whose horses are pulling them.

"Apologies for our tardiness," the bigger, greener one says. "Our horses had to get used to pulling wagons."

"Do they... not normally?" Alfred looks a bit peeved for a moment, but it quickly passes to his usual stoic demeanor.

"Oh, well, we were certain they could anyway! Why, they've carried us across the continent in the years we've ridden them!" The red guy proclaims. "And, as you can see now, they're managing with no real strain!"

"...If they keel over halfway through, you've doomed this continent."

"We wouldn't have tasked our mounts to this were they incapable, Alfred," the green one replies. "Now, I trust your men can also protect us from highwaymen?"

"Long as none of them are teenage girls, I'm sure my men won't get slaughtered."

"He sounds bitter," the red guy says to the green guy. "Suppose something happened?"

"Banter later," the green one responds. "For now, we have a job to fulfill."

And with that, the named characters+generic smugglers go off, and you exhale. "So... Time to tell mom, dad, and that damned cat we're running away."

"Running a-" Raleigh frowns. "Are you serious, man? What will you accomplish by running? Where would you even go?"

>A. You'll survive!
>B. Noba is bound to be safer!
>C. You don't know
>D. Just a prank bro (read: peer-pressured into staying, you play planning to flee off as a joke)
>E. Write-in response

>>46214848
>>A. You'll survive!

>>46214848
>A

>>46214848
>D. Just a prank bro

>>46214848
>A. You'll survive!

>>46214848
>D

>>46214892
>>46214914
>>46215038
"You're honestly asking me what I'd accomplish? Raleigh, you just talked up this Waldrick guy as the scariest thing to rule the coast, and apparently his daughters are just as deadly. I'm a guy who sings songs and oversleeps and can barely comprehend a Wind tome."

"Ah, but don't you see?" He asks. "Magic runs in your veins, man! Even if you can't fight well, that singing voice of yours... It invigorates others when they think they can't fight on! That's something even I can't do! You're an invaluable asset!"

"What good are my pipes with a sword shoved through them?" You say back. "Parlor tricks aren't going to turn the tide in a war, and even if they could I never wanted to fight one!"

"Sam..." She shakes her head, looking at Raleigh. "He's right. You're asking too much of a student, or a dancer, trying to make us fight."

"'Or a dancer...' Not you too, Millicent!"

"When did I ever say I wanted to fight? My dancing, it... I don't even know how to do it like those people who invigorate, bards and dancers like Samson..." As an aside, you've just found a perfect "in" for keeping up rapport with her. "Raleigh, we respect you a lot. Everyone does. But that's because none of us ARE you."

"Nngh..." Raleigh grimaces. "Say you run away, you and your families, to... Let's say Noba, since it looks like they're not hostile after all. Say Holmstead gets sacked, this entire area gets taken over, they move onto Noba within the week. Would it have been worth a couple extra days of cowardice just to lower our odds even further?"

>A. "Cowardice?!"
>B. Yes!
>C. ...
>D. Back off, dude
>E. Write-in response

>>46215177
>A. "Cowardice?!"

>>46215177
>>B. Yes!

>>46215177
>A. "Cowardice?!"

>>46215177
No the only cowardice is to die in a fruitless attempt than to live on and record what they do to live forever in song. victory isn't just written by the victors but those who survive.

>>46215254
>>46215280
>>46215484
"You say 'cowardice' because of this... Can't you see how cruel you're being? As writers, we need to survive to WRITE, Raleigh."

"I'm being cruel and shortsighted? No, you're being apathetic, attempting to hog glory!"

"Raleigh," Millie interrupts, "you value the continued independence of this city-state. Tell me, why is that?"

"Why... So people can live without those ever-expanding tyrants!"

"And yet you would force your friends to risk their lives for a cause they have no experience fighting? Forcing us all to die on the Gerxel's blades would eliminate the very point of resisting their advance. We admire what you're doing, as a poet, a spellcaster, and a friend to all, but... You must respect what others do, or you'll look just as much a madman as you claim our enemies to be."

"..." Raleigh is silent for several moments before looking away in shame. "You're right. All of that was out of line. I have... a lot of friends here who deserve to live as they please. If you two and your families should seek refuge in Noba... Show King Augustus my play. During my time visiting his court, I promised him he would be the first to read it once I finished."

"Once you finished... But I'm not done proofreading it, and you still wanted to make that final edit once that was over..."

"I've given you my notes on all I've learned about King Augustus. Complete it if I'm unable to."

"Would you stop speaking so morbidly?!" Millie, getting emotional again, shouts out.

>A. "Complete it yourself!"
>B. He's asking too much of you
>C. Stop trying to make us feel guilty!
>D. You'll be sure to
>E. You'd better see him again after this
>F. Write-in response

>>46215498
>A. "Complete it yourself!"

>>46215498
>>C. Stop trying to make us feel guilty!

>>46215498
>A. "Complete it yourself!"

>>46215498
> F
"You're the ones leaving. Now go. I have a fight to prepare for."

>>46215571
Fuck wrong thread. Sorry everyone

>>46215498
>>E. You'd better see him again after this

>>46215597
No worries.

>>46215598
Up vote this

>>46215549
>>46215570
>>46215558
>>46215598
"Finish it yourself," You exclaim, "you're the damned author! And quit it with this guilt-tripping nonsense..."

"It's not guilt-tripping," he says, "I just... Fighting means potentially dying, and the Augustus play might be some of my best work."

You'll give him that point. It's damn good, even unfinished. Still, though... "Holmstead wouldn't be the same without you, man. We'd better see you again after you've singlehandedly destroyed the empire or whatever you'll probably do."

"Singlehandedly?" Cheering up, Raleigh chuckles. "I'll do it with both hands behind my back."

At least the meeting could end on a slightly cheery note. Either way, Raleigh immediately heads off to meet with Lord Gaspen, leaving you and Millie to speak.

"Do you... think this place stands a chance against the Empire?" She asks you as you walk together (you made the offer to escort her home).

>A. Maybe
>B. Probably not
>C. Either way, best not to be here when they come knocking
>D. You have no idea
>E. Write-in response

>>46215745
>B. Probably not

>>46215745
>>C. Either way, best not to be here when they come knocking

>>46215745
>A. Maybe
>C. Either way, best not to be here when they come knocking

>>46215745
>>B. Probably not
>>C. Either way, best not to be here when they come knocking

>>46215745
> E
"We can only hope and trust that our friends will defend this place. I'm going to the Tavern, I may as well sing a song to lift the moral of the citizens."

>>46215745
>A. Maybe
Solely to counteract the namefag's vote

>>46215784
>>46215851
"Honestly... I don't have a clue," you admit, "it's unlikely, but not impossible. Either way, people like us need to be far away when it gets dangerous, hope folks like Raleigh or the town guard, or even knights FROM Noba can defend the place."

She nods. "Yeah, you're right... All we can do is keep our spirits up as fate takes its toll."

"Y'know what... This reminds me of a bit of advice my mother imparted upon me. 'It's the middle of the afternoon, time to hit the taverns.'"

"Your... mother really said that?" Millie clearly looks uncertain as to whether or not chuckling is appropriate.

"She embodies it," you say, trying to write it off casually. "Anyway, people are bound to be there trying to poison their worries away. Prime location to sing, raise morale."

"That is... Very considerate of you. I think." The refresh-less dancer blinks. "On second thought, I'd rather not head home quite yet... Mind if I accompany you?"

>A. And sing? She'd drive the place out of business!
>B. If she wants to
>C. You'd be happy to have her along
>D. You'd rather go alone
>E. Write-in response

>>46216036
>C. You'd be happy to have her along

>>46216036
>E
"Of course! What's a song without a beautiful dancer."

>>46216036
>>C. You'd be happy to have her along

>>46216036
>>C. You'd be happy to have her along

>>46216036
>C. You'd be happy to have her along

>>46216036
>C. You'd be happy to have her along
>>46216084

>>46216063
>>46216084
>>46216107
>>46216111
"I'd be happy to have you along," you say. "C'mon, I know a really good place, always able to squeeze me in if I wanted to perform. The owners practically babysat me when my mother used to frequent the place."

"That sounds like a... I'm so sorry." It looks as though it's just dawned on her that your mother might have a serious problem.

"I'm at peace with it," you explain. "Think dad and I'll finally be able to get her to cut back if we're on the move."

"Right... So anyway, more about this place?"

"Well, firstly, it's the perfect place for a beautiful dancer and an invigorating singing voice."

"Don't push your luck," Millie responds. "I haven't even asked me how there are bards and dancers that do that refreshing thing."

"I was wondering when I could offer to show you how that's done."

You just might be able to make the best of this situation.
>To be continued next thread
Genuinely surprised with how much Samson didn't fuck things up this thread. There were moments where he fucked up, but nothing earth-shattering.

Thanks for playing. As always, update twitter is qmgrandflocto, I'll be around in-thread to chat for awhile, and any points I miss/you forget to ask can be directed to https://ask.fm/qmgrandflocto

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>>46216298
Thanks for running.

>>46216298
Thanks for running.

>>46216298
How could he have fucked up?

>>46216346
>>46216357
Always a pleasure.

Soon enough, Sir Dyrus is gonna actually meet this King Augustus that the whole neighborhood's been talking about.

>>46216298
The banks for the run but whattaya mean Samson fucked things up!? Haha. Man we suck as the bard.

>>46216369
Well, he navigated the argument with Raleigh pretty well, didn't provoke Alfred, and only did a couple of accidentally-creepy/foot-in-mouthy things while talking to Millicent early on.

>>46216382
Like I said, minor things.