File: Myunit.png (109 KB, 360x162)

109 KB PNG

The inevitable invasion of their home city-state mere days away, Samson and several others prepare for the worst. Planning on retreating North into Noba, at least for the time being, he, his family, and a few other folks and their families plan their retreats with little organization or assistance from the lord of the land.

A few days later, the flagship of Director Waldrick, as well as several others behind him, reach the shores of Holmstead, prepared for an easy fight. Rene, along with her own companions, prepares to fight for the Empire. Her and her sister have tasted battle back on the Isle of Wyrm, but this is their first "true" fight.

Little do they expect Sir Dyrus, accompanying King Augustus and many Noban Knights, to also be right on their collective way towards Holmstead to defend it, confident in the ease at which the few who remained North will defeat Director Belinda's forces.

Whose perspective will be followed?

>A. Rene
>B. Dyrus
>C. Samson

>>46317323
>>C. Samson

>>46317323
samson

File: levinbattlesprite.png (3 KB, 17x32)

3 KB PNG

>>46317345
>>46317365
The spoiled singer of songs, the scholarly sleeper-inner, the oaf with an air of refinement... You are now Samson.

Your father, a respected scholar and mage in his own right, alumnus of your current school, was... Surprisingly difficult to contact, considering that he rarely leaves Holmstead and you just saw him the other day.

"So we're to be pushed out of our homes by this empire..." Stroking his greying beard, he shakes his head. "I had feared that this day would come. Perhaps I ought to have noticed sooner, but I suppose it's only natural that my cultural studies with the uninformed masses would leave me... uninformed."

That's what he calls wandering around poorer neighborhoods of Holmstead and interviewing random passerby. He claims to desire to close the distance between classes by "creating an understanding of how these types live and think."

Boy, when you mentioned that to Millicent, she certainly took offense, though you're not entirely sure why. He's doing a lot of good, certainly up earlier and in better shape than his son in the prime of his youth...

Anyway, point is, you found him, and once the situation was explained, he said, "to stand up to Raleigh and refuse to fight was a brave and bold thing in its own, son... Scholarly families such as ourselves need to live on to pass our knowledge onto all!"

>A. Couldn't have said it better
>B. Just surviving's enough for you for now
>C. Will this affect his studies at all?
>D. Write-in response

>>46317710
B

>>46317710
>>B. Just surviving's enough for you for now

>>46317738
>>46317733
"I... think I'd rather just focus on survival for now," you say. "We'll need to make sure we land with our feet on the ground wherever we end up. All we know, we could be running to our new homes for life."

"Ah, son, you worry too much about us! I know I haven't had much time to share my research on you, but I consider myself now an expert on the impoverished!" Your old man adjusts his glasses, both of you wholly oblivious to the pretentiousness of this word choice. "Why, I need only apply what I've learned to our new lives, gods forbid we can't return, and we'll be even greater for it."

"And... We can keep the cat with us, right?"

"Oh, of course we can! Bringing its food along, we might be able to convince your mother we don't have much room for her bottles." He chuckles a bit.

"I suppose... Better and worse, and no matter how long or brief our stay in Noba, this could be a new chapter for our entire family."

Sometimes you forget, but you do like your parents sometimes. It's easy to forget at their low points, but... Yeah.

Another day of preparations pass before you're ready to go, which you use to spend time with...

>A. Raleigh
>B. Millicent
>C. Both of them
>D. Your parents
>E. Your cat
>F. Your books

>>46317960
E

>>46317960
>B. Millicent
Sink or swim.

>>46317960
>>B. Millicent

>>E. Your cat

File: DancerTCG.png (432 KB, 453x772)

432 KB PNG

>>46318006
>>46318042
"Of course I'll always have time for my favorite girl in the world~" you coo, lightly holding onto your beloved pet and smiling.

Your cat meows and squirms briefly, but ultimately grows comfortable in your arms, letting herself be pet and purring lightly, eyes shutting as she takes in a rare treat for her: the evening's outside air.

"Yeah, who's a beautiful baby? You are. Gonna be the prettiest cat in the kingdom of Noba as soon as tomorrow come-" Feeling a presence approaching you on the porch, you jump and yelp slightly in surprise, which causes the cat to jump off of you (and lightly claw at your arms. Ow...) and hit the floor before looking at the new person cautiously.

You'd recognize the pretty green coat anywhere, though you've... Never actually seen Millie with her hair out of her ponytail. "Am I interrupting something?" She teases.

"N-no!" you say, turning a slight shade of red. "Wh-what're you doing here?"

"Well, I just... wanted to know if you'd figured out where your family would be headed."

"Er... My father says he knows of a very nice town in the Phile region, just a ways Northwest of the border... Can't remember the name..." You tap your chin thoughtfully.

"Alder?" She suggests, leaning down and holding out her hand for the startled cat, who slowly approaches and sniffs it before nuzzling her head against the not-currently-able-to-refresh dancer's hand, being paid for her efforts in pets.

"Yes, that was it! You've heard of it?"

She nods. "Yeah, it's where my family's planning on going too."

Acknowledging her immediate rapport with your pet, you remark, "she's taken a liking to you."

"Real beautiful cat," she responds. "Does she have a name?"

>Name your cat

>>46318302
>Tiltyu

>>46318302
Whiskers

>>46318302
>>46318331
Second.

>>46318331
>>46318465
"Er, yeah, her name's Tiltyu," you respond, looking at the cat with a slight smile. "Our school doesn't let you take pets, so she has to stay here at home, but... Just makes it all the nicer to see her again." Your expression changes to a more thoughtful one as you add on, "she usually stays in the house, though... I hope she doesn't accidentally get hurt or lost outside."

"I'd be more worried about everyone else," she says. "A housecat's one of the most dangerous hunters in cities like this, if you're a bird or a rodent."

"But we're going to be spending several days outside of cities," you respond, still eyeing Tiltyu as the cat is pet by your acquaintance. "If we need to pass through someplace with bears, that would be a different story."

"Sure you're not just projecting a fear of bears?" Millie replies.

"I can't be concerned for my own life and limb as well as my pet's?"

"I suppose that's fair... And the fastest route to Alder passes through the woods." After a moment of thought, she makes an offer. "Since our families are headed for the same city, perhaps we should bolster one another's numbers while we travel.."

>A. Sure, why not
>B. You'd rather keep your travel group small
>C. You'd love to have her along!
>D. It's only practical
>E. Write-in response

>>46318718
>A. Sure, why not

>>46318718
>C. You'd love to have her along!

>>46318718
>C. You'd love to have her along!
I mean, after all
>D. It's only practical

>>46318718
>>A. Sure, why not

>>46318781
>>46318785
>>46318755
>>46318827
"I'd love to have you along!" You say, perhaps too excited, before clearing your throat. "I... Mean, yes, though my father is currently managing our travel plans, he'd certainly agree that it's wise to have your family along. It's entirely practical to bolster our numbers, after all, and... I don't see why not, in short."

"Eheh... It's too late to pretend you're cool and collected around me, Sam," Millie teases. "But by all means, keep trying. Anyway, we should... Probably go about filling everyone else in on this plan instead of babbling."

"Right, right... My house is right here, so... Mine first?" Your parents' voices quieted down awhile ago, so you figure it's safe to go in, opening the door for Millie and Tiltyu.

You endure no small amount of overt teasing from your mother, which your father fails to pick up on, during your discussion of this plan ("Our son isn't wasting his time for ten minutes and he brings a girl home." "It couldn't have been that many minutes... Er, miss, do you have the time?").

Anyway, after your father heartily approves of the extra travel companions, arranges a meeting time/place, Millicent says, "so... I'll just go tell my own family now, and then see you tomorrow!" before starting off.

>A. Skip to the next morning
>B. Try and ask her to let you catch up!
>C. Follow her
>D. Write-in response

>>46319126
>>A. Skip to the next morning

>>46319126
>A. Skip to the next morning

>>46319319
>>46319306
You call it a night shortly after that. Surprisingly enough, your parents manage to avoid keeping you up with senseless arguments, and you even end up being the first person up!

After feeding Tiltyu and grabbing yourself a few apples, you show yourself out for some fresh air, feeling like it's only a matter of time before the morning gets loud and wanting to have cleared out before then.

You end up in the central plaza of Holmstead where, mere days ago, you, Raleigh, and Millicent put on a show with the dancer at the center. The stage that your trio used for the event is currently unoccupied, most folks paying that entire section of the otherwise-busy plaza no mind as you sit yourself down before it.

Shining off an apple on your clothes, you take a savory, crunchy bite, looking up at the stage and trying to imagine what the view must've been from here...

It's much more Raleigh than you'd imagined, but that turns out to have not stemmed from your imagination at all. The guy's really there, holding a tome under one of his arms. Probably forgot it here the other day or something. "Hey," he says, sounding a bit tired. "You feel like sharing?"

>A. Toss him an apple
>B. Go over there and hand him one
>C. He can get his own

And...

>D. Ask what he's doing here
>E. Ask how he's been
>F. If he's here to talk you into staying, forget it
>G. Write-in response

>>46319539
>>A. Toss him an apple

>>F. If he's here to talk you into staying, forget it

>>46319539
>A. Toss him an apple

>E. Ask how he's been
>D. Ask what he's doing here

>>46319539
>B. Go over there and hand him one
>E. Ask how he's been

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>46319570
>>46319560
>>46319600
Hell, I'll try my hand at rolling over semantics.

>>46319560
You toss Raleigh an apple, which he bites shortly after. "Mmh. Thanks."

You roll your eyes. "If you're here to talk me into staying and fighting again, you can just leave with that parting gift."

"No, no, I wouldn't," Raleigh says. "I just dropped by Millie's to say goodbye, saw you when I was passing through. Tell me you weren't doing some sort of... Weird fantasizey stuff."

"That's none of your business!"

Raleigh laughs a bit. "Yeah, right you are... Anyway, yeah, I just wanted to say bye to the two of you before you left, wasn't sure when it would be... You should've seen the look on her dad's face when some guy showed up at the crack of dawn for his daughter."

"It was... Probably priceless," you say, frowning.

"You don't seem amused. Why've you been so down lately, Samson?"

"We're on the verge of an invasion and I'm running away from the place where I grew up. Forgive my mood for being sour."

"No, I just mean... You've been really irritable in recent times. I haven't been pointing it out, but we're the only ones paying attention to each other right now, so..."

>A. That's really none of his business
>B. Admit to resenting his impressiveness somewhat
>C. The threat's existed since long before it was confirmed
>D. Write-in response

>>46319842
>B. Admit to resenting his impressiveness somewhat

>>46319842
>B. Admit to resenting his impressiveness somewhat

>>46319842
>>B. Admit to resenting his impressiveness somewhat

>>46319905
>>46320038
"How could I not be bitter?" You ask, sounding somewhat exasperated.

"Huhwha?" Raleigh asks.

"You're just so... Acclaimed, famous, responsible, my equal or superior at pretty much every vocation we share, and having more of those to boot... I always feel so inadequate in your presence."

"Wait..." Mid-crunch, Raleigh stops, slightly wide-eyed. "You mean all of that? You... resent me?"

You nod. "It's so petty, I know."

Hopping off of the stage, Raleigh approaches you. "Look, Samson. Last time we spoke should... Say enough about my hardly being as perfect as you seem to make me out to be. Condemning you and Millicent from the bottom of my heart for refusing to throw yourselves in front of the Gerxel's blades... I expect too much out of people, and yeah, I'll hang out with anyone, but... How many of my friends know me very well?"

"None of us can help but know you!" You claim in return. "Musician, writer, helping hand extraordinaire... Maybe you're a perfectionist who's used to bringing out the best in others. That's still more than many of us can hope to claim."

"You've listed my skills," he says, "and, to your credit, more of my personality than any has ever hit, but... That ugly side of me is under wraps for a reason. I have the worst of times actually getting close to people, so I'm always an arm's length away for anyone who needs a strong mage to pull them up. They come closer, they see that that's... Really all I am, go back to an arm's length."

>A. Sorry to hear that
>B. So all he is is how great he is. How damn sad.
>C. Doesn't really change your mind
>D. Write-in response

>>46320225
>>A. Sorry to hear that
But it kinda makes the point
>>B. So all he is is how great he is. How damn sad.
But how about a few drinks?

>>46320225
>A. Sorry to hear that

>>46320225
>A. Sorry to hear that
>C. Doesn't really change your mind
> Doesn't mean I don't want to be musician, writer, helping hand extraordinaire. Maybe I'll do that on my travels.
> Also, if you want to get close to someone, maybe you could do it in this war you're about to fight.

>>46320303
>>46320295
>>46320392
"Sorry to hear that..." You say, shaking your head.

"Yeah, it's tougher than it sounds. I know I must sound like a massive whiner right now."

"Honestly... You absolutely do," you confirm, this time punctuated with a nod. "Your problems all come from how good you are at everything, so my mind's not changed about you."

"Yeah, I figured... Can't really fault you for that," he says with his infuriating capacity for simultaneous humility and hubris in the same breath.

"You didn't let me finish," you say. "You're still... Absolutely an inspiration to me, Millicent, and surely plenty of others. I aspire to be as impressive as you, and part of that's why it's so difficult to stand you!"

"Heh... Looped around to excessive compliments, have we? Well, I'll just say that that's not the best spirit either." He takes another bite of apple, mulling over his words as he chews and swallows. "Don't just... Try to be like me, or try to surpass me. Basing your self-worth on that's just going to negatively impact your work and your health."

"I... Suppose I'll try to think of it like that. And you're not so old yourself, Raleigh. Don't think it's yet impossible for you to forge an intimate bond or two, even if you keep trying to be everyone's hero."

"I... suppose I'll try to think of it like that," he says with a slight smile, chuckling at his parroting of seconds ago.

>A. Say something more (specify)
>B. Skip ahead now

>>46320587
>B. Skip ahead now

File: ArcherDS.png (2 KB, 72x73)

2 KB PNG

>>46320774
After bidding Raleigh farewell, you return to Tiltyu and your parents before heading to the field on the outskirts of town your father chose as a meeting spot.

Tiltyu is ecstatic to have this much running-around space, but also quick to curiously approach Millicent and the VERY tall, also redheaded fellow with a bow strapped to his back accompanying her.

"...and this is the cat I told you about!" She says to the man, a presumed relative of hers. An older brother, you would guess, both because he doesn't look nearly old enough to be a parent, and there's already a middle-aged couple speaking to your parents a few meters away.

"So Tiltyu was the talk of your home, then?" You say, making your presence clearer than it already was as the indifferent archer's leg is rubbed against by Tiltyu's affectionate little head.

"Well, I may have brought her up in passing... Oh, I haven't introduced you two yet, though! Norman, this is Samson, I told you about him earlier. And Samson, this is my little brother, Norman!"

"...he brought fresh rations along," Norman says in a tone that's hard to read. "Guy knows to plan ahead for a trip." Is he... Referring to your cat? Is he joking?

>A. Is he joking?!
>B. Tiltyu is not for eating!
>C. (Joking) He read your mind
>D. Just look on in judgmental silence
>E. Write-in response

>>46320961
>B. Tiltyu is not for eating!

>>46320961
>B. Tiltyu is not for eating!

>>46320976
>>46321059
"What? No, you can't eat Tiltyu!" You exclaim.

"Never gonna taste cat like this..." Still pretty much impossible to tell how serious or not he's being.

Millie laughs with moderate discomfort. "Oh, don't worry, Norman is just joking..." Slightly quieter, as she turns her head towards him, she finishes, "right?" When her apparently younger brother doesn't respond, slightly more nervously, she says, "right?"

"I won't eat Tiltyu," he says. It's still not clear if this is him reassuring you and his sister about his seriousness, or an agreement that he just made now.

Your things loaded up in an impressive carriage your parents hired for the occasion, one with more than enough space for two families' assorted items, you hear the voice of Millie's mother call out, "hey, Norman, help us load up, wouldn't you?" You are thus given a sudden but thankful reprieve from the enigma that is Norman.

"Eheh... Probably should've mentioned him sooner, huh?" Millicent says. "Norman catches people off-guard like that a lot."

>A. He is joking, right?
>B. He seems... Yeah.
>C. What a weirdo
>D. Write-in dialogue

>>46321168
>A. He is joking, right?

>>46321168
>B. He seems... Yeah.

>>46321187
>>46321181
"He seems... Well, he's a guy with a bow."

Millie nods, frowning a bit. "He's deadset on becoming some sort of great hunter. Spends all his time that he isn't out practicing reading up on legendary beasts and monsters from different parts of Teege that he plans on making a butcher's day with."

"Huh. So... He IS joking about wanting to kill my cat? I might need to call this whole thing off last-minute if she's in danger."

"I... don't actually know if he was serious or not, but either way he gave his word that he won't now, so... All's well, I suppose?"

You nod with similar uncertainty. The next couple of days are... Uneventful, spent mainly traveling, occasionally crossing paths with another group fleeing the city-state in another direction on a schedule of their own.

When you've been traveling for a few days days (at this point, you think there's... Two, three days tops until the time that Alfred man guessed the invasion would reach Holmstead's shores) small group ends up camping in a forest close to Alder.

As you sit by a campfire Millie's parents set up, the lot of you eating some beast Norman caught earlier that day (you take a few looks at Tiltyu, eating an appropriate share for a cat, every once in awhile, just to reassure yourself she's fine), you internally grumble. You're not suited for walking this much in this many consecutive days, and your father's cheerful disposition towards all of this can only go so far.

"Oh, we so rarely get the chance to eat game meats like this, or sleep outside like this, or walk so much like this..." He chuckles at what is, to him, a lovely novelty. "I'm already feeling a new level of understanding!"

Somewhat abruptly, your cat stops paying attention to her meat and starts to stare in some seemingly random direction.

"Hell's got her spooked?" Your mother eloquently grumbles, bitter at her continued soberness.

>A. Cats are weird
>B. You'll check
>C. Volunteer Norman to check
>D. Write-in response

>>46321526
>B. You'll check

>>46321526
>B. You'll check

>>46321526
>B. You'll check
>C. Volunteer Norman to check
Why not check with Norman? Seems safer that way.

>>46321526
>B. You'll check

File: BrigandGBAIcon.gif (2 KB, 76x69)

2 KB GIF

>>46321540
>>46321552
>>46321589
"Er... Might be a bear or something. C'mon, Norman, let's go check."

"I'd like to kill a bear," he responds, standing up and equipping his bow. As he stands, your father hands him a green book, quietly says something to him... Which Norman takes as an excuse to chuck it right at you.

"Ow! Dad, did you tell him to do that?!" You clutch your aching head in one hand, wind tome in the other.

"What the hell is your problem?" Your mother says to your father.

"I-I only told him to give that to you. If an aggressive animal is present, you should have it."

"Fine, fine... Millie, sneak back twice as hard if this bear manages to sneak up on our camp."

"Bears don't sneak," she quips before you and her brother head off.

The hunting-skilled archer taking the lead, you head in the general direction your cat stared in.

No sign of any bears, no sign of any bears, no sign of any...

Okay, you're going to be sick now!

The sounds of raucous laughter fill the air of a nearby campfire, a family of four dressed in the threads of Holmstead's upper-class having been cut apart by axes.

Some eighteen men surround their campfire, taking weapons, gold, anything that looks valuable, and discussing their haul.

"That's the third one this week!" One guy chortles.

"Learn to count, dumbass," another corrects with a slap. "It's four."

"What's it matter? Three, four... We only need to be counting in thousands with this haul! Here's to the Tyarm bandits!"

"Not so loud, idiots, the all of ya!" Another one, bald-headed and older-looking, perhaps the topmost authority of the bunch, says. "There's bound to be another lot of travelers soon enough... Once we're done pickin' these bastards clean, quit lollygaggin!"

"I'm... Nauseous..." You whisper under your breath at the sight, noticing Norman drawing back his bow to strike one of the not-terribly-observant axe users.

>A. Stop him. We must ESCAPE.
>B. Let him and go warn everyone
>C. Stay and fight
>D. Write-in

>>46321877
>A. Stop him. We must ESCAPE.

>>46321877
>A. Stop him. We must ESCAPE.

>>46321907
>>46321914
You yank on Norman's arm before he can fire the shot, knocking him out of the zone as he looks at you questioningly.

"Are you suicidal or something?" You harshly whisper. "We need to get out of here right now."

"...that is too many," he says, finally noticing, before walking off as quickly and quietly as he can do in combination, you following suit.

You strike the fire with your wind tome, snuffing it out in a flash as you return.

"Wh-what the... What was that for?!" Millicent's father says, about to raise his voice before Norman holds up a hand.

"Bandits targeting refugees. Eighteen of 'em, killed a bunch of rich guys just East of here."

"W-wait... I had us camp so close to those sorts?" Your father sounds... Shocked out of his state of constant novelty by this. "If I'd changed our location even a few meters, that might have been us all right now..."

"And I'll yell at you for it later," your mother says. "For now, we've... Gotta go a LOT faster now. Everyone pack up so we can get the hell away from here."

"Gods... Bandits, really? What a welcome to Noba..." Millie gripes. "Obviously, 'go Northwest as fast as possible' is the plan here, but there's no way we can completely avoid their notice from this close... Gods, what do we do?"

>A. Stay close to each other/our things
>B. Spread out into smaller, harder to notice groups
>C. Every man for himself!
>D. Don't think, just act!
>E. Write-in response

>>46322146
>B. Spread out into smaller, harder to notice groups

>>46322146
>>E. Write-in response
Try to divert the bandits attention with Norman to the other side so everyone else can pass unnoticed

>>46322218
While I can admire your willingness to jump into operation human shield, I feel like I'm obligated as a QM to veto this suggestion unless someone seconds it.

If it earns a majority, it's fine, but the playerbase as a whole's always seemed to wax "don't deliberately get people killed."

>>46322146
>B. Spread out into smaller, harder to notice groups

>>46322146
>A. Stay close to each other/our things

>>46322183
>>46322318
"Right, right... Let's just, uh... Spread out into smaller groups that stick close but also a distance away from the carriage. Everything we all need to survive is in there, so if we get that out of the woods, the rest of giving them the slip is the easy part."

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Your father asks.

"Er... what're you thinking?" You ask back.

"Your magical music, son!" He says. "Sing to the carriage as we accompany it, refresh it so it might move all the swifter and we can focus on the truly important but easier to save things than our possessions... Our lives."

"So... The way you word this," your mother says, "you would have our son in the single most dangerous place to be with bandits afoot-the carriage-when we're trying to make our escape."

"His skills are key to all of this!" Your father responds. "And so long as the rest of us remain in the shadows and he knows when to duck or swerve, no harm will come to him."

"...fine, then," your mother begrudgingly says, "but I'm controlling the carriage then."

"Er... Dear, are you sure that..."

"I know what I'm doing," she says, quite certainly, "and if you cared at all about our son, you would have volunteered to be by his side during this as well."

>A. This argument is stupid
>B. No need for the low blows
>C. She has a point!
>D. You'll sing the stupid songs, now stop arguing!
>E. Write-in response
>F. Waste time letting this fight play out

>>46322436
>D. You'll sing the stupid songs, now stop arguing!

>>46322436
>D. You'll sing the stupid songs, now stop arguing!

>>46322436
>A. This argument is stupid
>D. You'll sing the stupid songs, now stop arguing!
>E. Write-in response
Norman should stick with the carriage so he can cover me, then.

>>46322436
>D. You'll sing the stupid songs, now stop arguing!

File: TransporterGBASprite.jpg (9 KB, 181x117)

9 KB JPG

>>46322461
>>46322502
>>46322530
"Would you two cut that out?" You, quite harshly, whisper. "You're my parents, but you can't stop bickering like children! The plan could work, so I'll do it. This is not a point for argument."

"Right, right..." Your father sighs. "I'm sorry, dear."

"This isn't over," she responds. "When we've given these guys the slip, know that you won't have heard the last of this."

From there, you and your mother find yourselves in the front of the carriage, Norman having been selected to provide additional support from the rear of the transport.

Quietly, slowly, the horses drawing the transport begin to move, and you begin to sing to keep them going.

Your mother groans. "Gods... You'll need to sing louder for it to have a strong enough effect, and that'll kill our chance at stealth. Your father's an idiot."

"Then only use it if we're spotted," Norman suggests. "That'll work."

In the corner of your eye, just ahead of you, you spy your father and Millicent, Wind tome and Iron Sword in their respective hands. From behind them emerge three bandits, and from there the struggle begins.

Your father makes a point of keeping his distance as he attempts to toss blast of wind upon blast of wind at his enemies, but... Well, it's clear by his accuracy with damned WIND tomes just how rusty your "respected scholar and mage" of a father is in the latter field, landing... Maybe half of his shots against the axe-wielding brutes.

Millicent, meanwhile, is in the nitty and gritty of it, dodging with seemingly expert timing between swings of axes.

Norman takes shots at something from behind, and you would later learn that his and Millicent's parents were back there, fending against some of the aforementioned bandits and keeping up a brisk pace with little real relevance at that point.

Your cat rests on some boxes in the back, napping.

>A. Start singing
>B. Attack the bandits fighting dad and Millie
>C. Keep eyes out for more bandits
>D. Write-in response

>>46322716
>B. Attack the bandits fighting dad and Millie

>>46322716
>>A. Start singing

>>46322716
>B. Attack the bandits fighting dad and Millie
Distance ourselves from the carriage here, just in case.

File: Great_knightGBAIcon.gif (2 KB, 76x72)

2 KB GIF

>>46322733
>>46322795
Instead of immediately singing, you open up your own Wind tome, in this moment feeling more than a desire to get out of here with your own skin intact.

A brigand raises his axe to strike your father, only to be struck by two blasts of wind magic at the same damn time, and holy shit you think you just killed someone.

"Nngh..." You... weren't prepared to do this, honestly. You don't think you regret what you just did at all, but... it certainly stops you in your tracks when you had prior been considering continuing into a plan of action involving exiting the carriage, distancing yourself from it to keep your mother and Norman defending it as you thinned the numbers of the brigands, but now... Nothing.

"Shit..." Your mother says quietly, hearing which was able to snap you out of this funk. "I didn't want you to have to experience that."

"Mother?"

"Nothing. Just... Stick to singing from now on. You don't have it in you to hurt people like that, no matter how much they deserve it."

Looking around a moment, you can see the edge of the woods, and some heavily-armored fellow atop a horse near its edge... By the looks of things, a solid 13 of the bandits are still left and chasing you, but at the same time Millie, her parents, and your father are all flanking the carriage.

>A. Sing for the carriage!
>B. Like hell you can't handle it. Use your magic to help repel the Tyarm!
>C. Just... quietly watch
>D. Write-in response

>>46322922
>B. Like hell you can't handle it. Use your magic to help repel the Tyarm!

>>46322922
>>A. Sing for the carriage

>>46322922
>A. Sing for the carriage!
No one trick pony-ing here.

>>46322922
>A. Sing for the carriage!

File: axelord.png (16 KB, 148x125)

16 KB PNG

>>46322968
>>46323022
>>46323121
You finally get around to actually singing out, your lyrics nothing worth note, but your singing magically-charged to the point that the horses are able to get that extra jolt towards the edge of the forest, the others not far behind.

"Hail, travelers!" The man says, waving a Steel Blade. "You've caught me at a poor time. My knights are in a bit of a hurry, so..."

"Forget about that!" Your mother shouts out, "there's damned bandits chasing us!"

"Bandits? I've been too inattentive on this region, then..." Calling to a group of knights behind him, he exclaims, "to arms!"

While most of the Noban knights present, quite naturally, have the nation's colors adorning their armor, oddly enough, a warrior, a blue-haired axe-fighter, a golden-haired soldier, a maid, and a pegasus knight lack that same sense of uniform, fighting alongside that crew anyway.

Once the Noban knights are reached, the bandits are made very short work of, the Great Knight himself cutting down their apparent leader and two of his other men.

"Why... To think that I might have let these murderers of refugees wreak free havoc when I passed by their very domain, had you not led them out to me..." The man says, sadly, as he dismounts before you and your mother, kneeling. "Forgive this fool of a king..."

"Shit, wait... You're the king?" Your mother starts cracking up, and something about that 'you're' implies an odd sort of... Familiarity?

"Wait a moment... Gods, Marion, is that you?"

"Holy shit, August? 'Augustus Noba...' I never thought you'd think up such a pretentious-sounding name."

>A. They know each other?
>B. What the hell is going on here
>C. Leave them to catch up, go talk to those other folks
>D. Write-in response

>>46323260
>A. They know each other?

>>46323260
>A. They know each other?

>>46323260
>>A. They know each other?

File: Magefighter.gif (932 B, 48x64)

932 B GIF

>>46323291
>>46323342
"Wait... You know each other?" More importantly, your parents have names?!

"Eh... 'Knew' is a more accurate way to describe it," she says.

"But... Raleigh never mentioned this in his play..."

"Oh, and you know Raleigh, too!" August laughs heartily. "Small world, I suppose... Anyway, I didn't speak much of the first years of my life," he explains. "We only knew each other briefly, some... eleven, twelve years ago, I believe."

"This guy busted up my sword arm," your mother explains. "Hires the first 'reputable-looking' sellsword he can find when he gets to the free territories, immediately goes looking for trouble."

"Hey, trouble found me," he responds. "It... happens a lot when you're going from an orphan to a king in just under a decade!"

Right, now you remember... Ironically enough, when you were VERY little, it was your mother who was absent more often than not, though she was a much more happy person at the time, the life of that tavern you introduced Millie to the other day, instead of the death of pretty much any good mood. Your father never explained just what it was she did, but one day she simply... Stopped leaving the town at all, and after that is when the vices started becoming her defining traits. As you got older, you figured the "never being told" and abrupt end to it was your mother being kicked out of a bunch of taverns and needing to take her drinking home, but...

She responds, "yeah, yeah, carving out a claim for yourself in sweat and silver-tongued deceit." Wow, thinking about it, all of her playful ribbing of the king sounds... Genuinely spiteful under a veneer of banter.

>character limit, continued next post

>>46323559
Either Augustus doesn't notice or he's a much better sport than any king has a right to be. "Ahaha, yeah... But at least your wound gave you more time to spend with your son, right? It would've been awful to never see him again..."

"Yes, you were an orphan and that's tragic, I know. S'why you suckered me in. Anyway, did I interrupt an invasion or something?"

"Oh, on the contrary!" August exclaims. "I've chosen to make haste in assisting your homeland of Holmstead against our mutual empirical enemy."

"Well, I won't keep you then... Hurry up and beat them off so we don't need to hide in this shitty country."

"Eheh... Right away, Marion."

Your meeting with the King of Noba was brief, but also even more informative than you would have thought.

Did you, perhaps, have anything to say to anyone as long as King Augustus is on topic?

>A. Say something to August (specify)
>B. Ask something of your mother (again, specify)
>C. Speak to someone else (third time now, specify)
>D. Nope, nothing more to say

>>46323593
>C. Speak to someone else (third time now, specify)
Millie and/or Norman, "Isn't he a bit much of a push-over, to be King?"

>>46323593
>>B. Ask something of your mother (again, specify)
Mom can you tell me what happened to your arm?

>>46323661
>>46323593

Supporting this

>>46323637
>>46323661
"That king seems like a pushover," you remark to Millicent and Norman in private conversation afterwards. "I mean, I'm glad for it, but with the way my mother was insulting him... Even Lord Gaspen would've had her head."

"Maybe he felt bad for causing her wound?" Millie suggests. "At least... I assume that's it."

"Or maybe he wants to be approachable," Norman says surprisingly eloquently

"If he's an orphan who made it this far so fast, he's bound to remember what it's like to be nobody." Millie adds.

Your speculation goes nowhere, however, so you approach your mother, fully intent on asking her about this history.

"Gods... Ruin my career, drive me to drink, get a solid fifth of the continent, and I don't even get into his story."

"I'm proofreading the play, actually," you say, " so I could make some notes for him to write you in if you share some details..."

She sighs, rubbing her arm. "I... Guess you're old enough now, sure. See, for awhile, I was a mage fighter. Sellsword, brains and brawn... I could go into how I landed your father, but that's not a story you share with your son."

You internally cringe. "R-right... Anyway, onto the part I asked about."

"Mm. So this young man... Sixteen at the time, says he needs an escort to the independent territories, that he's a runaway orphan who'd recently lost a little sister... As a mom, I eat it up, and hey, he still paid me. So, he's all about sticking up for others, scrappy guy... We're in a tavern in a town some bandits have the run of, I tell him to keep his head down... And the stupid kid immediately tries to stop them from roughing up some scrawny enchanter who owed them 'protection.' Gist of it is the bandits were no more, but neither were the enchanter or a ton of tendons in my good arm. I return to Holmstead, flash forward a decade."

>A. What a dick!
>B. He didn't mean for you to be injured
>C. Why didn't you ever hear of this?
>D. Write-in response

>>46323898
>B. He didn't mean for you to be injured

>>46324042
"He... Really didn't mean to get you hurt," he says.

"Yeah, I know, but... You can't just up and forgive the guy who takes your calling away. By the sound of things, he's a good enough king, but hell..." She rubs her right arm. "Never forget..." And then she starts laughing a bit.

"What's so funny?"

"Just that... I know I said you didn't have it in you to fight, but it was still your gut instinct to attack those bandits instead of focus on singing. Way I see it, it's just that your father and I've spoiled you!"

"Wait... Wh-what are you saying, mother?"

"I'm saying it doesn't take unruined tendons to teach a boy how to properly spell-sling. Soon as we get to Alder, that's your new main course of study."

"Wait... What?"

"Yep. You've got the power somewhere in you, stored away... Time to stop wasting your life, son!"

Goddammit.

>To be continued next thread
Well, I sure crammed a lot of information into this thread. Next one's gonna be the battle that Sam and friends just hightailed it away from, either from Rene or Dyrus' perspective.

Thanks for playing, as always. Update twitter's qmgrandflocto, I'll be around in-thread to chat for awhile, and you can ask me shit anytime at ask.fm/qmgrandflocto

>>46323898
>>B. He didn't mean for you to be injured

>>46324179
Thanks for running!

>>46324202
Always a pleasure!

>>46324179
Thanks for running.

>>46324179
Thanks for the run boss man.

>>46324208
QMing's become one of my favorite pastimes in recent history.

And one of my favorite pastimes in this Quest's history is an extreme amount of coincidental connections!

>>46324238
Heh, "run boss." Escape chapter.

And before I forget it, I'll just post it here, since it's yet to come up in-thread and we're logically going to depart from Samson for a few days after this.

His dad's name is Lazare.