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> Please vote if you feel like it.

Character Sheet:
https://pastebin.com/raw/b7xus4y4

Thread theme:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XM52nMYbmks [Dream On]

>Please consider leaving a comment with your prompt selection!

Virginia nods her head as she begins to slowly trail behind Lanarel. You follow the Wardress as the Vice-Captain’s mighty winds continue to surround and protect you from the sandstorms of the Grand Magic Zone. With every step you take deeper into the desert you begin to feel your mana flickering inside your body and slowly waning…

You look outside Lanarel’s semi-transparent protective gales – the sandstorms are not natural, they are all born from the savage and uncontrollable mana; it is difficult to sense any kind of traps and it’s hard to tighten your scarf.

A massive sand mound forms a hill as big as a mountain – your feet begin to quickly sink into the sand when you attempt to climb it. The three of you have no other choice but to walk around the reach, although the obstructing clouds of sand make it impossible to see anything further than a few meters. Either because she is a mute or because she is so concentrated, but Lanarel continues to charge up her winds and lead the two of you further.

You need to know how dangerous this felon Fezer is. You ask, “Did Fezar escape alone? Did he have outside help?”

“As far as I know he did it all on his own. I heard about him – even without his grimoire his magic is very deadly.”

“How long has he been in prison for? How did he know about the ruins of the palace?”

“I can’t say for certain but I believe for at least ten years,” she says, “And he probably didn’t, a man of his power can attempt and survive going through the Grand Magic Zone, although even for him the chances are very slim.”

Another ear-piercing thunder is born inside the clouded sky – and once again, there is no lighting. It is just a reminder, a reminder that neither you, nor any other people, are welcomed here. You close your ears and look up.

“Would it be possible for us to fly up on our brooms and look from up high?”

Virginia painfully pushes her finger into your forehead, “It’s hard to control your mana here, and it will be impossible for you to fly in this weather. We will only end up injuring ourselves and breaking our brooms.” She continues, “The mana here is not as concentrated and uncontrolled as the one in the Ultime-Volcano but, especially for a commoner like you, it will be very hard to control and make use of your magic. Now, let’s look.”

You frown and nod – they didn’t tell you anything about this Grand Magic Zone until now. As you continue moving forwards you soon realize that the sand has been slowly shifting beneath your feet – Virginia has been gradually moving away. Then, Lanarel’s wind, previously surrounding the area around you, shrillingly wails and explodes.

You try to hide your face when there is no longer a wind umbrella to push the storm away. The crushing hurricane winds crash into your body and send you several meters into the air. Another powerful burst of razor sharp sand dust picks you up mid-air and twirls you towards the ground. Half-buried in sand, Virginia’s glowing body appears and catches you just in time to avoid a tragedy. She holds on to you; you realize you are inside a sand maelstrom.

Virginia shouts something towards Lanarel but another loud thunderclap blocks her voice. Slowly but surely the three of you continue to spin around and be pulled towards the centre of the whirlpool. You notice a massive and sudden explosion of bluish air as Lanarel attempts to free herself – only to once again begin sink into the sands…

When you are inside [Grand Magic Zone: The Kisehva Desert] you have to roll 18 or lower – best of three – on 1d100 to succeed using your magic, whenever it is a spell summoned by your grimoire or just your “basic magic”.

> It is going to be a long and dangerous mission; you will need your mana to heal them. Trust them to get you out.
> Open your grimoire and cast a magical spell. [Please specify which spell and in what way you want to use it]
> Push magic into your scarf and offer Lanarel a way to pull her closer. It might be easier to escape together.
> If Virginia and Lanarel don’t have to worry about you they’ll escape easily. Push magic into your clothes and try to escape both the sinking sand the ruthless sandstorm.
> [Write In]

> I am still working on the character list so sorry for not including it yet in this thread OP.

Rolled 48 (1d100)

>>4179154
>> Push magic into your scarf and offer Lanarel a way to pull her closer. It might be easier to escape together.
Like the prompt says, we should avoid using up mana unless we absolutely need to.

>>4179154
>>> It is going to be a long and dangerous mission; you will need your mana to heal them. Trust them to get you out.

Rolled 8 (1d100)

>>4179229
this

>>4179701
Great roll, man, you beat the DC

Rolled 44 (1d100)

>>4179154
> Push magic into your scarf and offer Lanarel a way to pull her closer. It might be easier to escape together.

Bo3 right?

>>4179154
>> Push magic into your scarf and offer Lanarel a way to pull her closer. It might be easier to escape together.

File: The relentless storms of (...).jpg (208 KB, 827x1169)

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You strain your body and clench your fist over your scarf in an attempt to concentrate your mana. You and Virginia begin sinking into the sand ever-faster. Another thundering roar makes you lose your focus before a blast of sand wind hazes Lanarel’s presence. Despite the lingering fear about everything that is happening around you, you force yourself to close your eyes. The powerful mana present within the winds and the crushed sand is heavily interfering with your own. Both the Vice-Captain and the Wardress are nobles, as well as high-ranked Magic Knights; they have much more mana and skill than you. It’s no use using your grimoire, you can only assist them.

With grit you aggressively shove your mana into your enriched battle-scarf before, barely infused, you toss one of the ends towards the cloud of dust. Your magic crackles from within your textile as you begin blindly searching for the Vice-Captain. Shortly, you find her, and your cloth hastily wraps around her and pulls her towards yourself.

The Vice-Captain emerges from the sand mist tightly holding her grimoire. She, too, is enveloped in radiant Mana Skin alike the Wardress’. Immediately after, the mana inside the scarf withers and it is left dangling by the winds.

“My magic is not going to be much of a help here,” Virginia powerful voice somehow manages to overwhelm the storm. She is immediately silenced by another thunder wail as she finally grabs into Lanarel’s hand to hold her…

An abrupt and horrible pain spreads through your lower body as if hundreds of needles filled with venom penetrate you. You can’t see what it is; at this point you are half-way buried in the sand. You watch as the pages of Lanarel’s grimoire glimmer with magic in an attempt to stay put under the harassing sandstorm. She heaves.

¬ Wind Magic: Embrace of Astreus ¬

The quiet wind’s whistle tickles your ear before a magical aquamarine gust, born from Lanarel’s mana, gathers your sandy shackles and crashes it like a wave against the sandy mounds. You wobble – your leg is hurting.

Wasting no time Virginia grabs into you as the Vice-Captain’s winds continue to hurl and gather around you. Another tempest breaks and pushes away the assaulting sandstorm – like some sort of powerful wind barrier.

Lanarel timidly puts her hand on Virginia’s shoulder and exhales. Her bronze eyes glitter. The air in your lung squeezes before another mighty current of air picks the three of you up like an invisible hand and frees you from the quicksand maelstrom. It guides you through the deadly dust-storm at such speed the soil cuts into your skin.

Not so much for Lanarel and Virginia, who are still coated and protected by their magic. The Wardress shields you.

¬ Wind Magic: The Chamber of Four Winds ¬

Lanarel’s wind commands before a safe pocket is formed around you in a shape of an orb by magical mistral winds pushing the sharp, blinding sandstorms away. Finally safe, you nudge your head from Virginia’s hard steel armour.

The three of you are flying through the air, slowly descending towards the ground. Despite the elevation, the ever- discordant dark sky is still far away from your reach. Again, you wince in pan as you reach to rub your aching leg.

Virginia grabs your hand and stops you. You grunt at such cruelty before she gently lifts the edges of your dress.

You try hard not to scream when you notice a creature with sandy-red venomous colour holding to the bottom of your leg like a leech. As you continue to fly Virginia’s eyes narrow, “Imut Starfish. I see, so that was an Imut Hive.”

“T-the quicksand whirlpool?” you question through pain – it feels is if your leg is rotting.

“Yes,” the Wardress nods before a bright white flame erupts around her fingers, “We have to quickly get rid of it.”

Your voice cracks and your saliva clings to your throat, “P-please wait, d-do you have to burn my leg for that?!”
She hisses. “I’ll be careful, but if I try to remove it by normal means, it’ll only end up release more of its poison.”

Poison? You only just entered the Grand Magic Zone! You start worrying once you realize there is no use arguing with Wardress; yet, you do not want to be cauterized. It’ll be harder to use your healing magic here, and painful.

A brief wind strikes Virginia into her face and forces her pine-like forelocks to slap against her forehead. The Wardress looks at Lanaral in annoyance. The Vice-Captain shakes her head in obvious frustration before she raises her hand – she is able to do this while still controlling your descend and retaining her defensive spell. She exhales.

A high-speed wind - as big as a needle - strikes the starfish in a blink of an eye without prior warning. The starfish splits into two. Before you can complain, she lets out another breathe and one more sharp wind stripe cuts it into four pieces, now. Poison is bad. Getting your leg seared is bad, as well. But getting it cut into two? All’s too risky.

Virginia simply scoffs. “You are helping us without a nudge?” Virginia asks the Vice-Captain sarcastically. The Vice-Captain simply pouts back. “Accidently”, her wind weakens for just a moment to let the sandstorm hit Virginia…

You gained an affliction: [Imut Starfish Venom]
> The dangerous venom of the Imut Starfish withers your heart with sand. Your maximum health is lowered.
Health [5/4]

Despite the corpses of the starfish now quickly descending towards the ground, your wound is still hurting. Your eyes widen when you notice a small yet strange yellow-sandstone structure far in the distance. You pull sleeve of both the Wardress and the Vice-Captain as you point them towards the structure. Virginia grins in satisfaction…

“That must be it,” Virginia grabs your shoulder tightly and nods, “That’s a long way. Lanarel, get us closer.”

Vice-Captain stares blandly Virginia before shaking her head. She points her hand in the direction of the ground.

“I know you can keep two spells activates at once, Lanarel,” Virginia exclaims like a disappointed mother.

However, the Vice-Captain does not listen to her. Her wind orb continues to descend until you reach the ground far away from the tower you noticed in the sky. While there are no Hives here (?), the sand winds are still roaring.

Before you can acclimatize with the soft sandy ground, the ground rumbles just a few meters away from Lanarel’s wind shield’s reach. From beneath the sand surface strange creatures as big as wild boars but with bodies of plated scorpions, encrusted with lapis-emerald jewels, like scarabs, emerge. Their massive pincers clench as they approach. While they are able to stand against the storm, a much stronger wind forbids them from approaching.

After a while, they burrow back into the sands. You can’t imagine having to fight them while battling the storm.

After a brief pause, Virginia turns towards the direction of the buried palace’s tower. She then looks at you with worry, “The Imut Starfish poison is not something that will greatly harm you, but I would rather you heal it now.”

You frown – can you? The powerful, persistent and piercing mana of the desert makes it hard to use your spells…

You prepare to take out your grimoire only to be jolted away by Virginia. The earth beneath your legs tremors and then two enormous, crystal claws close just a few meters away from where you were standing. Your stinging leg? You nearly lose is again. From beneath the sand the scorpions begin to appear one after another. Three of them…

Virginia shoves you away and glares at Lanarel, who is still keeping the meddling and dangerous sandstorm away.

One of the scorpions goes for the Vice-Captain while the other two begin quickly approaching Virginia in disgusting, eight-leg fashion. The Wardress’ eyes light up with white fire before her grimoire snaps open:

“You centipedes think you are so smart? We have no time for you.”

> Open your grimoire and cast a magical spell. [Please specify which spell and in what way you want to use it]
> Stand away from danger and, if one of the scorpions attempts to attack you, keep them away with your scarf.
> Attack the scorpion going for Lanarel – you won’t harm it but you can keep it busy until Virginia is ready.
> Attack one of the scorpions going for Virginia. She’ll make quick work of one and then will move for other.
> Open your grimoire and attempt to take out and bite a muti cricket from within its magical pages.
> [Write In]

> Just a reminder that you have a lot of muti crickets which can improve your magic spells – although to remove one is a separate action and, like using your basic magic and your grimoire, will take a 1d100 roll to succeed.

>>4181196
>> Attack the scorpion going for Lanarel – you won’t harm it but you can keep it busy until Virginia is ready.

>>4181196
>> Stand away from danger and, if one of the scorpions attempts to attack you, keep them away with your scarf.

We'll probably be better off waiting until we reach the entrance dungeon so that we'll have a bit of shelter from the sandstorm before we try using one of our crickets and healing ourselves.

>>4181196
do we use mana if we fail at using spell?

>>4181345
>Sadly, yes.

File: Magic Knight Rankings.jpg (177 KB, 1069x1600)

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>So far it's between two prompts, but still a few hours for more votes. Regardless, I think a magic will be used so if I could get 1d100 - best of three - that would be appreciated.

Rolled 3 (1d100)

>>4183005

Rolled 30 (1d100)

>>4181196
>> Stand away from danger and, if one of the scorpions attempts to attack you, keep them away with your scarf.

Rolled 13 (1d100)

>>4183005

File: A deadly gemstone creature....jpg (164 KB, 652x800)

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You place your hand across your thigh to take out your Magic Wand just in case. You take a few steps away from the epicentre of the battlefield; your back is facing Lanarel’s wild winds and forces your white dress to flap and flail madly against your body. You decide to keep a close eye on the battle but neither get involved or in the way.

Virginia lets go of her apostolic grimoire and smashes her fists against each other. Her grey eyes turn to pure white as a circle of ambers escapes her fingers to each form a separate flame. The closest of the crystal scorpion-creatures jumps towards the Wardress with both of its claws ready to snap. Virginia allows herself to smirk before attempting to crash both of her, burning with white fire, fists to break through the creature’s head. However, the moment her flames begin to grow they sizzle and die. With no magic present her hands just grab into the claws…

She struggles but the sturdy mineral form of the beasts makes it impossible to break with physical strength alone. Despite her strength, the massive scorpion easily pushes itself closer to her face before the claws finally break her grasp and gore both of her wrists; and deeper. Virginia’s holds down the scream as bursts of red blood plunge towards the sand floor. With another ivory cinder, her bleeding hands explode with a blinding flame as she shatters both claws; the cracks audibly spread through both of the beast’s limbs before stopping near the torso.

It doesn’t look like the injury is bothering her that much. She grabs the body and tosses it into the other scorpion.

Your eyes dash towards the last scorpion: it is quickly breaking the sand and crawling towards Lanarel. It raises its sharp tail to swing at the oblivious Vice-Captain; could it be that Lanarel is far too busy taking care of the protective winds? Before you can react, she proves you wrong. She raises her foot; a short but sharp wind slashes into the scorpion’s tail and very easily, and cleanly, cuts it off. The crystal tail falls and sinks deep into the sand…

The second scorpion attacking Virginia breaks through the sand surface bent into a ball – glimmering gemstones spread like rain from the clattering collapse Virginia caused with her throw. You try to keep away but this scorpion now turns in your direction; although accidentally, it’s as if Virginia was throwing them toward –you –. You tuck and loosen your scarf and, praying, you make another attempt to surge your magic across your supplemented linen.

You raise your wand and the scarf follows – the iron layers fold multiple times until a spear-like shape is formed. Before the scorpion can react, you slash and pierce towards it in awkward attempt to keep it away: it works, somehow. Despite never having the need to use a spear in your life, your formed spear is good enough to battle the scorpion. You begin to feel a horrible headache and throat pain – every second it gets harder to use magic.

And, eventually, the Linen Magic that is inside your scarf begins to fade and the cloth weakly drops on the sand.

“Angel Fire Magic: Lance of the Cleansing Bell”

You hear Virginia shout out her spell before a single cinder manifests above the scorpion you were fighting. Then, the cinder breaks into an expanding radiance before a pale, blinding pi- no. The flame struggles and disappears…

Virginia’s grimoire loses its glow for a few seconds before reclaiming its flame. Her face looks flabbergasted.

“Cynthia!” she shouts towards you as her spell fails. The scorpion you were previously fighting lunges at you!

> Roll 1d100 for DR to evade the attack – best of three.

> Open your grimoire and cast a magical spell. [Please specify which spell and in what way you want to use it]
> Trust Virginia to take care of the scorpion, continue to try and evaded it until she is able to destroy it.
> Push more mana into your scarf and continue to shove the scorpion away until Virginia or Lanarel can finish it.
> [Write In]

Rolled 22 (1d100)

>>4183416
> Push more mana into your scarf and continue to shove the scorpion away until Virginia or Lanarel can finish it.

Rolled 42 (1d100)

>>4183416
> Push more mana into your scarf and continue to shove the scorpion away until Virginia or Lanarel can finish it.
Neat pic for the monster

>>4183436
Shit. Discounting the fact that for the past two rolls, lower numbers were better, we've all been consistently rolling really low. Not a single roll has even broken 50 yet.

Rolled 42 (1d100)

>>4183416
>> Push more mana into your scarf and continue to shove the scorpion away until Virginia or Lanarel can finish it.

>Could you guys roll a d100? Best of three. Y'all very lucky so far.

Rolled 12 (1d100)

>>4184160
Wait, are lower numbers better for dodging too?

>>4184181
> No, but 42 is enough for the scorpions.

Rolled 84 (1d100)

>>4184160

Rolled 10 (1d100)

>>4184160

File: Entering the sandstone ru(...).jpg (93 KB, 1280x631)

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Thanks to Virginia’s warning you manage to rush out of the way just in time to dodge the leaping scorpiod. The crystal arachnid blunders skewering your body and catches itself hovering inside Lanarel’s cyclone; it is still snapping its pincers at you. Angry at the beast, you successfully plunge even more of your magic into your scarf and then smash – as if using a heavy hammer – the creature to send it weakly rocking against the strong winds.

The gemstone scorpion falls deeper into Lanarel’s winds before finally being tossed far away from your sandstorm-free circle. You watch as it flies through the air before crashing against the hard sand. It struggles against the sandstorms until it is finally able to impale and glue itself to the sand. After a moment, it burrows.

You look away to see the last scorpion making another attempt to reach for Lanarel. The Vice-Captain is not looking that good – you can’t imagine having to keep up such a powerful spell in this environment. Her breathing hardens as she tries but fails to raise her knee – she stumbles and the surrounding winds loosen and wane and allow some of the storms inside. The last scorpion lunges at Lanarel but is caught mid-jump by its tail by Virginia.

With great force she pounds the creature’s stomach into the sand and, before it can react, she firmly places her glowing palm on top of its gemstone plated body. The scorpion continues to trash violently, attempting to stab into her with all of its sharp insect limbs. You watch as her grimoire turns a page before the cover turns brighter.

“Angel Fire Magic: Mark of the First Angel,” she cries out another spell.

There is a loud crack as her hand turns pure-white and a massive chaste blaze escapes from beneath her palm. The irradiated rupture spreads through the entirety of the scorpion’s body before Virginia’s angelic fire begins to appear from every single fracture. Virginia continues to hold the creature down as it is burned in holy inferno.

A bit of an overkill, really.

Lanarel slowly turns to look at Virginia before her magical spell is finally strained to its limits. There’s another powerful rupture of blue whirlwind before you are once again exposed to the sandstorm.

Lanarel’s grimoire meekly floats in the hurling storm before she manages to catch it; you hold on to your own as well. The Vice-Captain attempts to open it and – likely – cast chamber, a third one at this rate. Virginia, however, slaps her hand away. Lanarel looks at her with shock and anger. Virginia shoves her hand beneath her armpit and across her back to tightly hold on to her shoulder. Lanarel’s boyish face immediately flusters.

Struggling against the current, you are soon grabbed by Virginia’s other hand.

“We are close enough – we are just going to have to walk there. Leave this to me; don’t be wasting your magic.”

Lanarel hits Virginia’s plated chest multiple times with her clenched fist – she is obviously unhappy about this.

“I know Captain Charlotte appointed you as the leader,” you watch Virginia mutter as an aura of blinding-white manifests around her body, and soon covers both you and the Vice-Captain. Like an embrace, her magical energy is shielding and at the same time constraining. “But you are just going to have to lead in the palace instead.

“Mana Skin.”

Having to hold two bodies does not stop or even slow down the towering Wardress; neither does the sandstorm. You have neither a useful spell nor a mana skin – you don’t complain. Virginia pushes through the weather and climbs the raising sand hills without showing weakness or struggle. Eventually, she reaches the ruins of a sandstone tower-part of the palace – it is the only thing unburied. Massive chunks of the parapet lie around.

She lowers you down and silent – even more silent than before – Lanarel storms away from Virginia to enter the top of the tower: the entrance to the palace. You and Virginia follow her. Strangely, there are no traps leading there. You enter a large but empty balcony filled with heaps of invading sand – there is a single staircase leading down which you slowly descent from. Being surrounded by Magic Zone makes it impossible to sense any mana.

The cold, damp air finally releases you from the dry and hot wind of the outside. You finally take a deep breath – it feels so good in here. The air is a bit musky, even dead, but that is nothing you can’t bear with. You stop on the second to last floor of the tower – just under the balcony. There are very small windows here which let in light.

Aside from the granite, chalk-like to the touch, cold floor and empty jars, the whole of the small chamber is empty.

Virginia has burned her own wounds so they wouldn’t bleed – does she not trust you to heal her?

“Do you know anything about this place?” you ask the Wardress.

She shakes her head, “The Great Magic Zone has existed longer than Clover Kingdom did as a kingdom, which means that this palace and the town around it are older than thousands of years. Anything could be out here.”

> Open your grimoire and cast a magical spell. [Please specify which spell and in what way you want to use it]
> Patiently wait for the two to catch a short rest before venturing deeper into the palace.
> [Write In]

>>4185155
> Attempt to pull out and use one of our Muti-crickets.
> After that, attempt to cast Cloths of Solace. Use one cloth on ourselves. If both Lanarel and Virginia are hurt, use one each on them, otherwise just use two on Virginia.

>>4185195
+1

>>4185195
> Linen Magic: Cloths of Solace – Gives 1d10 chance to heal for 4HP if all cloths are concentrated on one person.

> Cricket won't help much with what you intend to do with Cloths of Solace, but it will apply to all future spells for an hour. If you want a suggestion, perhaps take out a few crickets and let them jump around in your bag so you don't have to take them out in the future? Though there's a very small possibility they might escape if your bag is damaged.
> You have enough time to try and use your basic magic without me asking for a roll however, I will need 1d100 - best of three - for the Cloths of Solace spell before the cost roll.

Rolled 43 (1d100)

>>4185900

Rolled 84 (1d100)

>>4185900

Rolled 83 (1d100)

>>4185900

You make yourself comfortable on the dust and sand filled floor grounds. Before doing anything else you spit out some of the sand grains that got in your mouth. You also scrub your skin – somewhat dry and bruised by the sandstorm. Thankfully, you have no serious wounds you would need to heal; you can use Cloths of Solace for that.

You huff and puff, but discreetly, so neither Lanarel or Virginia will notice. The Captain will allow you to risk your life here but she won’t let you go to a peaceful village just because it is filled with witches? You take a deep, cold – and thus soothing – breathe. No, it’s your chance to prove yourself. She said you weren’t strong enough to go to the Neutral Territory. If you prove yourself here, she –has – to let you go to meet your grandmother. She has to.

Lanarel stands up and the sand beneath her feet is pushed away by a powerful wind wave. She slaps her chest and raises her chin. She then stares off at the stairs leading further down and hesitates. This time she slaps her cheeks.

“Are you going to scout out before us or not?” Virginia asks her with a mellow, no ill-meaning annoyance.

The Vice-Captain looks at her with a grunt and begins descending on the floor below. Her feet don’t make a sound.

You struggle for a couple of tries to reach inside of your grimoire – your magic flairs like a dying candle several times and you accidently punch the empty pages of your grimoire before they finally turn to liquid. The darkness of your mind spins as if were drunk – you aren’t – until you finally find muti cricket container and take one out…

“What’s that?” Virginia asks you with a tone as if she caught you with something illegal – curious but adamant.

You hold the hopping greenish bug tightly in your palm.

“It is something I bought in Kraal from a magic shop, apparently, if you chew on one, it improves the effect of your spells.” It –is– polite to offer. You touch the page with your finger. How long will it take to take out a second one?

“Do you want one?”

The tall woman – when she is sitting by your side she is still at least two-three heads taller than you – shakes her head. She puts her hand on top of her grimoire to allow you to see her cauterized wounds. “No, my spells are powerful enough.” She looks towards the stairs for a brief moment before turning back to you. Is she worried?

“Of course,” you decide not to offend her ego – you have enough crickets to spare if she changes her mind.

You crunch the cricket. You turn the pages until you find one of the three filled with mysterious letters:

Linen Magic: Cloths of Solace.

Your mana begins to change into silvery linen magic; it first just above your grimoire and then, with a raise of your hand, it follows and begins manifesting a coral-hued cloth bit by ribbon. Suddenly, when the cloth finally begins to take shape, it crumbles into thousands of glimmering dots that immediately vanish. The powerful magic of the Kisehva Desert is able to subjugate and harass you even in here. A desolate palace – a dungeon – standing in the middle of a dangerous Magic Zone: it’s not a good combination… At least the criminal will face the same problems.

Even the Grand Magic Zone discriminates against commoners.

Virginia stares you down pityingly, “You were just chewing on that insect for nothing.”

You cough and spit out the less crunchy parts of the cricket. “No, i-it should last me for at least an hour.”

You watch as Lanarel comes back with an unsure expression. She realizes both you and Virginia and staring at her and meekly blushes before pointing below. She connects her hands in a cross – you wait for Virginia to translate.

“You didn’t find anybody there?” the Wardress asks.

She shakes her head. She draws a line in the air and separates it with three lines. She points at the centre.

“There’s nobody there right now,” Virginia nods, “But you can sense with your magic that Fezar was there?”

Again, she shakes her head but then nods. The Vice-Captain raises her hand and three fingers of it.

Virginia is visibly surprised by this, “Three people? The Magic Knights who pursued Fezar said he was alone.” She frowns a bit, “Are you sure, Lanarel? The Grand Magic Zone must be making it very hard for you to sense magic.”

The Vice-Captain pouts and shakes her hands at Virginia. She raises one of her boots to point at the bottom of it.

“Footprints?” Virginia sounds ever more surprised, “Fezar wouldn’t be so inept to leave a trace like that behind.”

> Is there anything you’d like to ask about from Virginia or Lanarel?

> Attempt a second time to use Cloths of Solace to remove your poison and Virginia’s wounds.
> There is somebody here, three of them, and if you stay for too long they might realize you are following.
> [Write In]

> Please roll 1d20+10 – best of three – for the cost of the previous spell: [Linen Magic: Cloths of Solace]

> Thanks for playing so far!

Rolled 20 + 10 (1d20 + 10)

>>4187605
>Maybe some separate group is coincidentally trying to raid the dungeon without knowing that Fezar is hiding out here?

Damn. Anyone else think we should try the healing spell one more time?

>>4187647
>worst roll possible
Shit!

Rolled 4 + 10 (1d20 + 10)

>>4187605
hmmmm

Rolled 7 + 10 (1d20 + 10)

>>4187605

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>>4188998
>So what do you want to do next?

>>4187605
> Attempt a second time to use Cloths of Solace to remove your poison and Virginia’s wounds.
Let's try it

>>4189112
May as well >>4189231

>>4189112
this >>4189231

>>4189231
>>4189349
>>4189458
>We didn't crunch an insect for the fun of it, a second attempt! Please roll 1d100 - best of three - it needs to be 18 or lower to succeed.
> For those wondering why it's "18" it's because of our maximum mana that is 180.

Rolled 79 (1d100)

>>4189469
Big money!

Rolled 59 (1d100)

>>4189469

Rolled 6 (1d100)

>>4189469

>>4189497
> Very good! I won't have time today, probably, to write an update so there'll be one tomorrow.

>>4189497
THANK YOU!

>>4189497
Nice roll!

You spend 14 mana.
Mana [166/180]

You touch Virginia’s hand when the tall woman begins to stand up: you are going to try again. She gives you a short frown and nods. Heavily focused, you whisper ‘Linen Magic: Cloths of Solace’ . You release a surge of silver magic from your hand as the letters in your grimoire begin glimmering once more. Born from your magic, thread by thread a cheery-red fabric begins to materialize above you head; you make sure not to lose focus and not to allow the pressure of the Grand Magic Zone to interfere. You close your eyes and, once the cloth is fully formed, you “snap” the blanket into three long ribbons. You lower and mantle Virginia’s body with two of them.

The last one you use to layer several times over your leeched leg as well as your chest. What remains of the cloth you put over the rest of your body – to get rid of the small but nasty bruises left on you by the sands. It worked.

You have healed your affliction.
Health [5/5]

The bite of the starfish disappears after a short while and the weakness you have been feeling in your chest is no longer present; good, your heart is the last thing you want to worry about. Unlike your ‘Healing Blanket’ spell, those cloths are not warm and relaxing but lightly-rough and stiffening – like a massage. Soon, the rest of your small wounds are taken care of. Virginia’s serious gashes left by the claws of the crystal creature are no longer present.

Virginia restored 2 health.

Virginia raises her chin for a bit and chews on her words. After a pause, she allows her lips to raise, “Captain Charlotte was right to have you accompany us, Cynthia. But, next time, make sure to heal only serious wounds.”

‘That wasn’t serious’?! Your glance gives away your thought. Virginia simply nods and turns to Lanarel, “Let’s go.”

You stand up soon after and join the duo on their way to the lower floor of the sandstone tower. It is filled with fresh dust and, like Lanarel said, there are footprints from different kind of shoes and boots left all over the floor.

Virginia’s cold face is now showing concern.

“Is he trying to trick us?” she voices out loud as she bends her knee to take a closer look at the footprints.

“Could it be another group trying to raid the palace in search of valuable artefacts without knowing Fezar is here?”

“I likely doubt it,” Virginia slides her hand to remove one of the prints, “But one of those belongs to a woman.”

“Could it be another Magic Knight Squad?”

Virginia shakes her head, “Magic Emperor tasked the Blue Rose because we are located the closest to this Grand Magic Zone, and if he would send anybody else he’d make Captain Charlotte aware. It should be just us in here.”

“What about a group of bandits? Or people from an enemy Kingdom?”

“We are still in the Clover Kingdom,” Virginia informs you as she stands up to think, “The closer kingdom to here is the Diamond Kingdom, but from what our spies say all their attention is currently on another dungeon discovered on the border just a few days ago. I doubt there is anything in here worth surviving the outside and invading us.”

You nod, that makes sense. It seems the Magic Emperor is keeping a very close eye on the Diamond Kingdom…

Lanarel disagrees however; she makes a few strange gestures with her hands which Virginia understands.

“Think, Lanarel. The palace appeared very recently, and has been buried for thousands of years – I doubt Fezar would have access to information that even we don’t. Even if there are magical artefacts here, he won’t know about any specific one. Are you saying he is winding it? I doubt it. What’s more likely is that he is just hiding here.”

Lanarel frowns and opens her grimoire. She holds her thumb on her chest before a gulf of wind escapes from it.

¬Wind Magic: Eye of the Wind¬

Lanarel closes her eyes and a single burst of wind is born from her magic – it has a bronze-green hue to it, just her eyes. Lanarel’s body shudders as the wind stream passes above the floor and then descends across and beneath the stairs. She stands like this for a couple of minutes; her teeth grind against each other as she stresses the spell.

She finally opens her eyes. She gives Virginia a short victorious smirk before she realizes something dreadful.

“Diamond Kingdom’s grimoires?” Virginia follows Lanarel’s gesticulations, “But they are not Shining Generals? They are fighting one of the traps – two statues – as we speak on several floors below? Is Fezar with them? No.”

Virginia looks over you with visible worry. Her voice is demanding and cold, “Make sure to stay away from us at least a couple of meters and not engage in fights unless you have to. Remember, you are here as a healer.” She turns to Lanarel and coughs – as if hiding a sorry. “What do you want to do? Do we attack them mid-fight?”

Lanarel looks at her in surprise. She hesitates before shakes her hands.

“Yes, you are the leader,” Virginia reminds her, “They are sure to attack us if they’ll know we are here, Lanarel.”

With your spells working only half the time, any fight is going to be unpredictable and dangerous.

The Vice-Captain ponders for a moment. It is obvious she is not accustomed to leading, as harsh as it sounds.

> Do you have any suggestions? Do you agree with the Wardress that you have better chance at attacking them while they are fighting the trap? While they are the enemies, they are not part of your mission; Virginia might be wrong and you can settle this diplomatically… sure, they are members of the enemy Kingdom that are currently prowling through a dungeon in your territory, but that is a second worry. If they are not aware Fezar is here, they are not your problem. Unless you accidentally stumble upon them, perhaps it’s best to avoid meeting with them?

> Please roll 1d20+10 – best of three – for the cost of the previous spell: [Linen Magic: Cloths of Solace]

Rolled 13 + 10 (1d20 + 10)

>>4191740
> Ask Lanarel if there is a way to get deeper into the dungeon without having to go through where the Diamon Kingdom group is. If there is, we should avoid them for now, at least until we have dealt with Fezar.
> If not, perhaps it would be best to let them press forward into the dungeon and follow in their footsteps, they may encounter Fezar distract him for us.

Rolled 15 + 10 (1d20 + 10)

>>4191740
Until we can determined if they’re here to help or recruit Fezar, it might be best to quickly bypass them.

And if they’re after magical artifacts it might be best to attempt gain them first, in order to obtain a measure of control of the situation, either by potentially trading artifacts for assistance against Fezar, or at minimum forcing them to come to us.

Besides Fezar might be attempting to gain an artifact to augment his magical power, since he’s without his grimoire.

(Artifact hunter Cynthia go!)

>>4191812
>since he’s without his grimoire.
We should probably ask about this, because I don't that that's confirmed. I know that Virginia mentioned he was dangerous even without his Grimoire, but I kind of assumed he stole it back during his escape.

Rolled 5 + 10 (1d20 + 10)

>>4191740
this >>4191785

>>4191832
Yeah you’re right. I just assumed. Possibly incorrectly.

>>4191785

+1

>>4191785
Yeah let them tire out. And then follow them no need for anything fancy.

You spend 15 mana.
Mana [151/180]

Lanarel continues to ponder on her decision; she listens to your debate.

You turn towards Virginia, “Wardress, you said Fezar is powerful even without his grimoire – but is it on him?”

With a shake of her head she gives you a reply almost immediately, “No, when you are as dangerous as him your grimoire is taken away and put in a well-guarded location. I think he didn’t want to take too much risk stealing it.”

“That makes him less dangerous than he would be with his grimoire,” you hang your head, “But maybe he is here for the same thing the Diamond Kingdom group is? And, it is very likely there are here for some kind of object.”

Virginia grunts hesitantly, “If that’s true, somehow they are all aware about something we have no idea about.”

“They might be here to help or recruit Fezar,” you propose as you glance towards Lanarel, “There might have been a dialogue in the jail we are not aware of. But if it’s a magical artefact they are after, we can’t let them have it.”

“Of course not,” she mutters, “But if Fezar and the Diamond Kingdom group are after the same thing, we must catch up with the invaders and, after quickly beating them to a pulp, ask what they are looking for. I think so.”

Lanarel shakes her head. She raises seriously one of her fingers and points at it with a finger of her other hand.

Wardress rolls her eyes and waves away her hand, “Fine, let’s concentrate on Fezar and worry about them later.”

“But Vice-Captain Lanarel…” you interrupt the boyish mute awkwardly, “Is it even possible to reach Fezar without having to meet the Diamond Kingdom group? If not, it might be impossible to quickly reach Fezar without a fight.”

She pauses and blandly stares at you. With an obstinate yet klutzy cough she opens her grimoire and concentrates her mana. Several bluish spirals of wind swirl around her fingers as she lingers her palm and closes her green eyes.

~Wind Magic: Eye of the Wind~

Again, it works without a hitch – you feel as if Lanarel had the most luck so far with her magic. Virginia looks displeased –her long arms are crossed beneath her chest – as she watches Lanarel use her magic; she is not happy the Vice-Captain is “wasting” her mana. The bronze-emerald coat covers the gale that emerges from her mana. She exhales with a visible struggle as she raises her hands; she directs her spell to descend the stairs and further.

After a few minutes, she opens her eyes and lifts both of her hands to her mouth to cover it. She looks at Virginia.

“There’s another way to the main floor after you descend the tower?” Virginia questions her with a raised eyebrow, “What, you saw Fezar?!” You watch the Wardress interpret Lanarel’s clumsy hand signs – it would be impossible for you. Despite how they talk, it’s obvious they are close. “He is on his way to the throne room?!”

Lanarel nods a few times before she stumbles back and sends a mild wind at the Wardress to keep her away – Virginia pushes her body too close for her liking. The Wardress does not even recognize the attempt, “Why?!”

She shakes her head, she uses two fingers of each hand to form a square frame – a door is locking the entrance.

“Damn it, there must be something inside of the throne room Fezar is looking for,” she grunts and nods at Lanarel’s determinate face. “We’ll deal with the Diamond Kingdom group later – We must stop Fezar now.”

They waste no time – Virginia harshly helps you stand up from the floor by pulling your hands. She reminds you to keep close but not close enough to get injured – that’s going to be problematic. The three of you rush down the stairs and continue descending the empty and cold sandstone rooms of the tower until you reach the bottom one.

This is the room the nemesis group has been fighting the statues just a few moments ago – the damage is fresh and the dust and alien mana still lingers in the air. Aside from several cracks in the wall, ceiling and the floor, the biggest impact is with the destroyed limestone statues. They are both humanoid in form but, apparently, their heads are dog-like. What is left of them is destroyed rubble in the very centre of the room – as if they have been crushed together. One of the statues has been encased in white crystal while the other has sharp crystals inside it.

There is a brass weapon - a hand sickle – lying beneath the statues. The other weapon appears to be missing…

Lanarel points towards one of the two doors-less exits. She opens her grimoire and quietly rushes inside: it is likely the one that the enemy group did not go into. Virginia follows her – and her heavy and noisy armour betrays any attempts Lanarel makes to stay quiet. The three of you don’t really have time to stop and worry about the traps, but you can’t ignore them either. Despite months of training, it’s impossible – for you – to sense any of them here.

Both Virginia and Lanarel stop at the same time – you have to stumble and smack against their backs to stop. You step away from Virginia because of how tall she is – it is impossible to see anything behind her. It is a hallway and it looks just like the rest of the corridor you just went through – you would’ve stumbled into a trap quite likely…

“It’s hard, but I can feel a lot of powerful magic here,” Virginia moves to touch the “step” but decides against it...

The sandstone walls are soft and well-carved, straight. There are no decorations and no kind of engravings on them. The ceiling is high but just as barren. The floor is formed out of massive sandstone blocks put against each other. As you inspect closer, beneath the layers of heavy dust there is something that is engraved out of gold…

Lanarel sways her hand in front of her face and, without thinking, uses her wind to lift the push away the cloud of dust and sand to reveal the sandstone floor – and a single gold line forming a very complex and elaborate “path” across the floor to the other side of the hall, it goes in zigzags and spirals and chaotically bumps from the walls…

Virginia frowns, “It wants us to balance and follow the trail? We don’t have the time.” She turns to Vice Captain, “Can’t you just fly us to the other side with your magic – Lanarel? I think it’ll only trigger if we step on the floor.”

Lanarel looks at her grimoire with doubt – the spells that require a concentration are at risk especially down here.

> Offer to use [Weighted Blanket] to try and cover the trap to simply walk across. It might fail, however…
> Patiently wait for the two to make a decision. Perhaps Lanarel will be able to safely fly you three across.
> Attempt to make a bridge out of your enriched scarf and safely walk across it, hold it for others as well.
> Offer to cross the “golden path” first – then try and create a bridge out of your scarf for others.
> [Write In]

>>4193743
>> Offer to use [Weighted Blanket] to try and cover the trap to simply walk across. It might fail, however…
This isn't exactly an ideal choice, especially if it fails, but if it works I think it will be faster than the other options. Plus the Vice-Captain has been using a lot of spells, it'd be bad if she ended up exhausting herself before we even got into a fight. It's true we need to conserve out mana too, but I think we still have a decent buffer to work with.

>>4193743
> Offer to use [Weighted Blanket] to try and cover the trap to simply walk across. It might fail, however…

>>4193743
> Attempt to make a bridge out of your enriched scarf and safely walk across it, hold it for others as well.


we can hang it from the ceiling to use it like a rope to climb above corridor

>>4193847
>>4193891
>Just a reminder that nobles have 500+ mana in case you are worried about that. But, regardless...
>I'd like a 1d100 - best of three - need 18 or lower.

Rolled 5 (1d100)

>>4194901

>>4194933
Alright, nice!

Rolled 69 (1d100)

>>4194901

Rolled 66 (1d100)

>>4194901
Just to have three rolls.

You put your hand in front of the Vice-Captain; she had already started gathering her mana preparing for a spell.

“Can I try something first?” you tell her before you spread out both of your hands. You take a deep breath – as you usually do to calm yourself – before your grimoire lifts to hover in front of you. The pages of your grimoire turn slowly before the spell you require is found. ”Linen Magic: Weighted Blanket,” you speak out.

From the embers of your magic a thick and rigid cloth of dark-grey textile material begins to weave itself thread by thread. Despite the beating interference of the Grand Magic Zone you are able to create your spell without any difficulties. The hall is not that big – your Weighted Blanket is just large enough to cover the entire way across!

You smile to yourself as you lower your hands with brief pride.

Virginia lifts two of her fingers to her forehead, “Aren’t you a commoner, Cynthia? How are you doing this?” She throws a quick glance at Lanarel whose face is – just slightly – red with embarrassment. The Wardress hushes her tone, “Magicians with Wind Magic are supposed to be loved by the mana, don’t take it to heart she is seething.”

Before you can react or even turn to Lanarel to make a reasonable and trustworthy excuse, Virginia long hands grab yours’ and Lanarel’s before making a mad dash across the restrained and well hidden trap – your blanket is supposed to be as sturdy as metal. Still, the weight of the three of you, as well as their armour, makes your spell bulge and surf like an unstable lake; Virginia does not pay it any attention, it doesn’t break her balance one bit.

She crosses the distance in one quick charge and jumps off from the blanket to cross a few meters more – just to be safe. Her iron boots ring through the palace as she lands, raising layers of additional dust. Lanarel removes her hand as soon as Virginia lets go of it. Pouting, she raises it to her chin and starts stroking it with her other hand…

“I am sure that saved us time,” Virginia responds with a dominating presence. You three just stand there for a second… “Lanarel!” Virginia furrows her brows as she looks at the Vice-Captain, who opens her eyes once she realizes the situation. She awkwardly and clumsily waves her hands in apology before she takes a step in front of Virginia and sniffs. Her hand reaches for the wall to lean on it softly as she continues leading you even further.

There are no more traps on the way to the throne room – or if there are, Lanarel is able to avoid them masterfully. Because you had to rush, however, you are out of breath by the time you reach the massive gate leading inside the throne room… There are two corridors leading inside the entrance hallway of the room. It is empty aside from two cracked limestone statues once again resembling humanoid shapes but with gold-encrusted eagle heads. Inside the dark hollowness there is something unnatural and crawling. The door is unlike any other you have ever seen. It’s disgusting; it resembles a closed eyelid with the skin being sick purple-red colour. The eyelashes connect at the centre of the door and are as black, sharp, long, and sturdy as the spikes of an eldritch sea urchin… Yuck.

Lanarel looks around in a worry – this means he is already inside the throne room, you don’t have much time.

Then, both Virginia and Lanarel turn their eyes towards the ceiling – even you can see and sense gathering mana…

“Crystal Magic: Anglesite Binding Whips,” you hear a voice shout in the distance before the alien mana begins to shift and manifest into a spell. Crack by crack several crystal forms begin to cling to the sandstone ceiling before… the predictable happens and the caster is no longer able to control his magic. Crystals shatter…

“I knew they were ahead of us but they still got here way too fast,” Virginia complains loudly before, with a bit of a struggle, a circle of ten white flames erupts and begins spinning around her body as if a saintly protective aura.

There is a loud, feminine laughter which you can hear from far-away distance. This is surely the Diamond group.

> What do you want to do now? Should you tell them that whatever they are after, Fezar is about to acquire it? Maybe you should assist with battle while somebody with actual offensive magic can try and open the “eye door” with their spells? Or maybe you can try opening the “door” using your enriched scarf? Will that even work?

> Please roll 1d10+10 – best of three – for the cost of the previous spell: [Linen Magic: Weighted Blanket]

Rolled 6 + 10 (1d10 + 10)

>>4195081
>Try to pry the door open while the others are fighting.

Rolled 3 (1d10)

>>4195120
this

Rolled 6 + 10 (1d10 + 10)

>>4195081

You spend 13 mana.
Mana [138/180]

Before the agents of the Diamond Kingdom can reveal themselves, Virginia rushes into the hallway to intercept them. Two of her small-scale white flames escape from her spinning sphere and slide across the narrow sandstone walls towards the shadow to where your enemies are. The two white flames soon disappear in the corner and the deep shadow - where the Diamond Kingdom group is hiding - is faded away in a bright, white light… Virginia stops.

Fossil Magic: Primordial Exoskeleton Shell! you hear a feminine loudly chuckle as she steps outside.

Virginia quickly jumps back and allows three of her leftover flames to form a triangle in front of her body. The dark-green haired woman slams her palms forwards, only to grunt when a massive shell-like cage completely repels her ivory flames. The dark, stone-like shield made out of dozen of arm-sized shells is engulfed in cold but sinister, beige-yellow hued glow. Virginia gathers the last of her flames into a single massive one and throws it!

The Wardress’ silver-white inferno connects with and burns through the safeguard but just barely… She is forced to jump back as the heavy-shielded barricade continues to advance. It just barely opens to allow you to see them.

You don’t have the time to make note of their appearance but… you feel as if you recognize one of them – a man.

This man sounds agitated, “One of them is already in the throne room – it looks like they got here before us.”

“But we are about to battle the Clover Kingdom mages-sorcerers-conjurers-augers-wizards! This will be something to remember after we’re done with them!” The woman pauses as she begins stroking her facial hair; at least, it resembles one. In reality, it is her blue hair braided in shape of a moustache. “Maybe I should take their heads…”

The third figure lifts his palm pointing towards you; a rough voice grinds the walls.

Handprint Magic: White Parietal Mark] a half-black half-brown dust of dye trails across the chamber, pass both the Wardress and the Vice-Captain. A massive and glowing hand imprint – it looks as if white chalk was drawn on top of a palm and then slapped over the target – appears on the bulging flesh of the eyelid. The sharp black eyelashes “wake up” from their prior inactivity and begin to twist and turn like tentacles of a black octopus.

Before you can attempt and surge some of your magic into your scarf to battle the eyelashes and try and pry the door open, you realize the user of the previous spell didn’t “touch” the fleshy eyelid just to anger it…

Handprint Magic: White to Yellow. You hear before the gory, visceral door is torn asunder by an alien magic. It is gone, completely, replaced by a figure of a burly man. He is not as tall as Virginia but he is much heftier and beefier. Without his clothes, you’d compare him to a hairless bear; however, he is wearing an insane amount of animal hides: baggy wolf-skin pants, bracers made out skinned leather and a tarnished cape made out of unknown fur decorated with sparkling red and green crystals. The man’s brown hair and bear is unwashed, wild and long. He has several scars over his face and a single bluish hand mark over his left eye. His eyes are all green.

As soon as the “door” disappears, one of the limestone statues closer to the man begins to crumble. The statue comes alive as it practically forces itself on the man, through the cracks of its hands tendrils of flesh reach and surround his wrists. The beak of its eagle-head cracks to reveal a leach-like mouth of red flesh reaching for him…

The man’s attention is entirely focused on the statue now; it is a bit insulting but to let it bother you would be silly, it is to your advantage. Before you can rush pass and towards the throne room the second statue awakens…

> Please roll 1d100 – best of three – to avoid the attack of the living statue.

> Attempt to cast “Weighted Blanket” on the statue to restrain it from attacking you further. Rush inside then.
> Ignore the statue and rush inside the throne room. It might be dangerous – the statue will follow you inside.
> Lanarel is already in the middle of assisting Virginia – shout for her to get her attention and help you instead.
> Attempt and push the second statue to attack and grab the attention of the user of “Handprint Magic”.
> [Write In]

Rolled 82 (1d100)

>>4196986
> Ignore the statue and rush inside the throne room. It might be dangerous – the statue will follow you inside.

the criminal will most likely focus on the statue rather than us

Rolled 98 (1d100)

>>4196986
>> Attempt and push the second statue to attack and grab the attention of the user of “Handprint Magic”.

Rolled 99 (1d100)

>>4196986
>> Attempt and push the second statue to attack and grab the attention of the user of “Handprint Magic”.

Cynthia's going Ultra Instinct on this statue

The limestone body of the eagle-headed statue snaps as it slowly raises its hands towards you. From the crack where it’s folding hands used to be there is a swollen blob of fleshy tendrils. As it takes a few rapid steps forwards, you steadily count the seconds before you bow your head and rush out of the way pass it. The fleshly tendrils from its chest form into a skinless hand; it misses you – you don’t look back; you hear it grab the man.

You also feel Lanarel’s powerful winds begin to gathering before she rushes to assist Virginia, away from you…

You rush into the open throne room. It’s a massive chamber with black – possibly obsidian – square pillars with sharp claw-like edges. There are four hollow streaks carved on every side of them; perhaps, braziers? The opaque orange windows are completely consumed by the sand crust of the outside’s weather, yet the room is still uncannily bright. Every sandstone edge of every stone here has a strange, overflowing gold-like glow to it – as if magic is surging like nerves across the entire room. This makes the stone mosaic of the walls visible and bright…

The room is ancient, and so, is filled with dust and sand – but even then it still looks regal, antique and beautiful…

There are several tall, red-clay vases standing not too far from each of the pillars – the blooming trees have withered and succumbed to rot due to thousands of years of thirst. The ceiling is made out of yellow, carved, and embedded stone to look like a blazing sun – with thousands of jagged sunrays pointing in every single direction…

A long and dusty ruby bamboo rug on top of a slightly raised platform – as if a bridge – splits the room into two. The rug continues on the bottom of a massive, glittering staircase. River-like upraised borders on the end of each side are now empty and dry, but for some reason it feels as if they used to carry glimmering water from the outside. On the very top of the steps there is a –massive– onyx statue of a sitting human. It’s as big as a ceiling.

The statues hands are on each of its knees and the massive shadow of its towering crocodile head – indeed, there seems to be a pattern – is covering half of the staircase. Beneath its legs is located a golden throne encrusted with moonstone gemstones. Milky hued textiles with golden embroideries cover each of the two enormous armrests…

Beneath the throne is a faded and half-destroyed skeleton of the previous owner. On the throne sits a man: his hair is black with sharp red edges. You can’t see his eyes but you feel as if he is calmly staring you down. He is wearing rags they force on prisoners of the Clover Kingdom. On his head is a white headpiece – an opal crown.

By his side, leaning against the throne, is an iron staff – it is as tall as him. On the very top there is an incredibly bright and violet glass sphere. Inside the globe there is a powerful, swirling magic: multiple stars gently hovering.

“Handprint Magic: Red to Yellow.” You hear an evocation in the distance.

You feel as if you have seen it before – or, at least, something similar. It is a foreboding feeling. Before you can rush further you come to a complete stop. You make a quick jump ignoring the disgusting feeling but that is of no help – your feet begin to sink into the previously hard floor – it is now a pile of flesh with disfigured fingers holding you captive. After a few attempts of unsuccessfully gathering your mana you attempt to slash at the fingers with your sharp enriched scarf… but it is of no help, the flesh just regenerates. It continues to grow in size.

“Crystal Magic: Spinel Collar of Surrender,” you hear a familiar voice call out before a flood of white magic surrounds you. You pray that it doesn’t work but… it does. From the mana, a circle of extremely sharp crystals forms just a few inches away from your neck. The white crystal icicles are each as long as your arm.

Instead of the burly man, another person begins carefully approaching you and the flesh puddle you are in. You recognize him – he is the Diamond Kingdom’s invader from the Pink Ash Forest; the one who captured, looked into the eyes of the “Oracle Beast” to see his own future, and then shattered the beast. He nearly killed you, too…

“I suggest you surrender the crown,” the man with short-green hair – it is decorated with orange gemstone braids – says with visible irritation. He doesn’t recognize you, it seems. He is older than you by no more than five years…
Fezar does not respond; he looks surprised to see the man here as well. He looks at the man for clarification.

He salivates. “Don’t you see I have one of yours captured? Don’t think I won’t impale her neck if you don’t listen-”

He doesn’t finish, he attempts to – just like you – to jump out of the way but the tendrils catch him. He drops through the pool of living carrion up to his knees. The gory tendrils grab him by his wrist and by his mouth…

“It’s been so long in that prison, it’s been so boring,” you hear Fezar speak – he sounds very old despite his face.

> What do you want to do now? It seems to be impossible to break restrains with the spells and magic you have currently. The person standing next to you just tried to use you as a hostage – he might have a way to free himself and you if you help him, but how unlikely is that he won’t? Virginia and Lanarel are still fighting, although you can’t say for certain as you find it hard to turn your head. Maybe it will be possible to reason and talk with Fezar?

File: Spoiler Image (56 KB, 816x427)

56 KB JPG

>This is how the Diamond Kingdom trio looks in their badly drawn chibi form.

>>4199253
> Tell the Diamond Kingdom Magic Knight that Fezar doesn't care whether we live or die. He's an escaped convict and a murderer, which means it will be bad for both of our kingdoms if he gets away with the artifacts.
> Try to use our scarf to wrap around one of the obsidian pillars and pull ourselves out.

I wonder if the fleshy blob things in the statues and the carpet are the traps that were already in the dungeon, or if they're being influenced by Fezar's flesh magic and whatever that staff and crown can do.

>>4199261
Cool, always helps to have a visual reference.

>>4199417
this

>>4199253
>>4199417
This
Maybe shorten explanation just to 'this guy is our Fugitive'
Take of our boots to help with pulling ourselves out

>I am still working on the update, sorry for being late.

>>4200412
No worries

You look away from the dipping green-haired man; instead, you focus on trying to find something – anything to assist you with escaping. The closest, and the sturdiest, is the tall obsidian pillar. The pit of gory blight continues to grow as you struggle to find your magic - soon, both yours and the wielders’ of the Crystal Magic pool connect. Finally, your silver magic floods through your linen scarf as you reach and then wrap around the column. Clumsily, you get rid of your footwear to make it harder for the fleshy tendrils to keep you down. With a huff and another surge of Linen Magic, you struggle, pull, and break free. You end up flying through the air towards the column...

...Only to end up smashing into a disgustingly soft, meaty layer of fat and muscles. As if glue, the sticky, almost inhuman mucus covers your skin and clothes before your struggles are easily dismissed. You look at the man trying to escape his own fleshy trench – he was able to forestall some of the fleshy tendrils with his white crystal constructions but it wasn’t enough. Right now he is as trapped as you – he is visibly unhappy about this fact...

“Why is he attacking you?” the man demands to know.

You continue to struggle to no avail, “He, curses, he isn’t with us! He’s a criminal; we’re here to stop him!”

“A criminal?” he replies mid-pant as he –strikes– one of the tendrils with his grimoire. He stares Fezar down: the red-haired man continues to sit upon the throne. He slowly and lazily gesticulates with his hands. “You are not here because of the ‘Crown of Mydias’?” He sounds very angry at your confusion. He tries to point at the man. “Then how come –he– is wearing it, it’s clear he’s here after it! I am going to make Morris pay me triple for this.”

“I don’t know,” you exclaim back – it’s hard to remain calm and generous when someone else is shouting at you.

The meat moss continues to grow and overwhelm the floor and the other pillars of the throne room. You wince...

”Union Magic: Tempestuous Reckoning of The Lord.” Virginia’s voice echoes loudly before the entire room is overwhelmed by a massive cloud blazing like an angelic firestorm born within it. The cloud enters the rooms with a blinding glow before an immense heat touches and begins to burn through the corrupting flesh...

It doesn’t take long for the cloud to come blazing towards the top of the staircase, exploding with an extremely bright light. The white fire crackles melodically as the stairs begin to shatter under the relentless pale sear of Lanarel and Virginia’s combined magic. Wind and fire, combined, there should be no way for a grimoirless cri-

A celestial light is born from the staff – the powerful constellation of void-blue shines through white fire. The blazing cloud quickly crumbles and vanishes to reveal the hands of the massive stone statue – the red flesh surging and swollen from the massive cracks – protecting Fezar. The man patiently waits until the fire is fully concealed.

He takes a step forward before raising his hand. This time, the infestation of his flesh magic spreads out like a plague and soon reaches you once more. Virginia is quickly captured by traps of flesh while Lanarel is able to conjure and call forth one more spell before being restrained and tossed into the pool of muscle tissues and fat.

“Something is wrong,” Virginia states the obvious as her fire begins to burn the flesh, “He can’t be –this- strong.”

“It’s the crown,” the Diamond Kingdom’s intruder states angrily, “It allows his magic to reach this far.”

“No,” you say, “It’s the magic inside that strange staff of his. I feel like I have seen it before somewhere.”

“Very interesting...” you hear Fezar speak out softly and tolerantly, “Union Magic. I think I’ll entertain myself.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” you hear Virginia speak. An immense pain makes you lose your conscious.

*** *** ***

A a painful alteration is happening with your body...your magic is mixing with somebody elses...

Your mana has been altered...
Mana [106/165]
Your magic has been altered...
[Basic Spell: Sequin Magic] Your magic allows you to manifest white sequins. The shiny crystal flecks sense and cling to active magic in the vicinity. When a cluster of sequin crystals is formed over a person, a magical object, a magical spell or another magical construction, an attempt can be made to drain the magic from within. The cost is 1d40+10. DR60 for the enemy to escape. 1d40 mana is drained – best of three – on a roll of 1 or 40 the sequins are destroyed and you are unable to recover the mana from them: the person on who the Sequin Magic has been used loses the mana regardless. If the roll is above SDR, the object or the traps are destroyed.

“How long are you planning to sleep?” your cheeks are pinched painfully by a hand of male...

Before you open your eyes you try to feel the cold sandstone or, at least, a blanket, but all you find is something slippery and horrid to the touch. You stand up in horror only to nearly throw up when the semi-darkness of what you are allowed to see meet you – the floor, the ceiling, even the walls of the hallway are covered in eldritch flesh, as if the all types of meat – from insect to fish to human - has been tossed onto them before being mangled up...

There is no safe space – everything is covered in flesh. The walls pulsate with organs of some kind; they gurgle...

“Where am I?” you look down at your hand only to find it attached by wrist to another – to the green-haired man. The Diamond Kingdom’s man is looking at you... with boredom! Your eyes fall on him, then back at your hand...

Some people might call you calm and collected, yet you scream. You scream so loud the man has to use his free, left hand, as well as the one connected to his, to cover his ears. The strange feeling makes you even more scared!

“Shut up,” the man with the orange-glowing fangs shouts at you, “You are not helping!”

“How are you not shocked by this?” you ask him as you raise your-his hand, “Is this –normal– to you?”

“Of course not,” he grunts, “This is not at all how I was planning to spend my day, chained to some loud teen.”

“Did you not see this in the ‘Oracle Beast’s’ eyes?” you ask him with a mix of fear, shock and annoyance.

His eyebrows rise up in surprise, “How do you...”

You take a few short breathes “So did you or did you not? Is this why you are not in utter shock?”

“None of the things I saw happened until today,” he mutters to himself, “Which means I am going to survive this.”

“What about me?”

He lazily shrugs his shoulders, “Can’t remember, it was over in a flash.”

“You...” You open your eyes. You quickly reach for your pouch to take out your grimoire – the pages are silent, the cover is dim and the three-leaf clover does not respond to your touch. Grimoires vanish with the death of their master – you know that – you let out a sigh of relief. You know you still have mana, so how come your grimoire refuses to obey? It is reacting like any dusty old book. You take a deep breath to push some magic in your scarf...

No, it’s not working. No matter how hard you try, how much magic you put in your scarf is does not even lift...

“Are you done yet?” the man, who is at least a head taller than you, asks you.

“What did he do to us?” you ask as you look around, “Where are the others?”

“Don’t make me carry you around,” he doesn’t look around, “There’s no way out here. Others? Who cares?”

“Do you not care about your friends?”

He almost laughs! His glass eyes look at you in disbelief, “We aren’t friends. They are just some other freelancers.”

“Well, I hope that my friends are safe,” you frown with worry, “They should be. They are Senior Magic Knights.”

“A lot of help that was for them,” he responds sarcastically, “Though, I’d rather be stuck like this with one of them.”

You blink, “Because they are stronger?”

He rolls his eyes, “No, because there’s they are both voluptuous mature women.”

Lanarel is much older than him! You really don’t want to talk to this person, but you are stuck with him; literally.

> Ask the man something about himself.
> Tell the man something about yourself.
> Investigate the hallway you are in as carefully as possible. Fezar wouldn’t just leave you to die of hunger, right?
> You feel like something is missing... Try to summon your basic magic and cover the hallway in its strange glow.
> This is Fezar’s magic that is surrounding you. Shout as loud as possible to ask them criminal what is it he wants?
> [Write In]

>>4200564
> You feel like something is missing... Try to summon your basic magic and cover the hallway in its strange glow.

>>4200564
>> You feel like something is missing... Try to summon your basic magic and cover the hallway in its strange glow.
> Ask the man something about himself.
>> What's his name? Offer our own.

Well shit, this took an interesting turn. I can't remember whatever it is that Cynthia thinks she recognizes in the staff.

>>4200641
>No worries. It's the same staff as the one found by Virginia after the dude attacked Charlotte and you in the ballroom.

“Does your magic work?” you ask him straight – you breathe remains heavy and anxious.

“No, if I could use my Crystal Magic I would be out of here long ago. Is this girl really a Magic Knight?” He asks.

You pout, “Do you have a name or you want me to call you “the-man-who-visits-Clover-Kingdom-far-too-often?”

He’s stronger than you – physically, if we he moves you have no way to really resist follow him. What a pain...

“Not my fault Morris keeps sending me here, and you have so many valuable things you are inept at protecting,” the Diamond Kingdom’s mercenary turns away from you – like you’re an annoyance. He raises his connected-to-your-wrist right hand to rub under his chin, “This is too much. I hope there’s some kind of treasure here, at least.”

“My name is...”

“Doesn’t matter,” he interrupts you with a hum, “I’ll call you ‘kid’.”

“No, you won’t. My name is Cynthia.”

He lazily waves his hand. He is not taking this seriously – how is he so confident in the future he has seen?

“What exactly did you see when you looked into the ‘Oracle Beast’s’ eyes?”

He looks annoyed, “If you really want to know – almost nothing – just glimpses of what could be my future.” He leans his head back, making your left fingers connect with his chin – you jolt them away. “A wasted, I wished I could sell it instead but I was in a hurry because of that beauty of captain of yours. But at least it wasn’t a scam.”

He continues, “I didn’t see you in the vision, but I was, connected to someone in some stomach-flesh by hand.”

“Impossible to predict,” You sigh before you raise your hand, “Can I ask you to concentrate a little bit, now?”

“You could,” he answers you sarcastically before he realizes you are serious. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“This,” you exhale as you raise your free, right hand. Little by little a strange, you feel your uncomfortable mana being manifested in form of a strange, new-fangled magic. From the gleam of your achromatic magic appear dozens of nail-sized disc-shaped crystals. The flat, shiny, ivory beads circle your hand like an ethereal gauntlet before it obeys (it obeys, you are so happy!) you and – like a hail snow – begins circling and covering the flesh.

You did not make much of it, so the tiny bits of your new magic are not enough to cover and hide anything...

“Why are you wasting my mana?” Cryz speaks out loud as he grabs your free hand with his own, “Stop it.”

“I’m not wasting your mana, I’m wasting –my– mana,” you say, before shaking your head, “I’m not wasting it.”

“What were you trying to do then?”

You pause before sheepishly raising your shoulders, “I tried to see what would happen. Look, I didn’t have to struggle at all because of the Grand Magic Zone.” You think, “Is it because our bodies are connected so it is much harder for it to break my... our magic? If not, maybe it’s because of Fezar and his magic’s surrounding his palace.”

“Well, what sort of magic is it?” Cryz asks in annoyance as he reaches for one of the walls with his hand, only to have wrist-less fingers attempt to grab and pull him in. Happily, for you, he quickly returns to the room’s centre.

“I... I’m not sure,” you say, “Our grimoires are useless and we don’t have a grimoire for this new type of magic...
Cryz pauses. “Zeden told me a lot about this palace – she’s far more knowledgeable than you lot about its history – You are still fifteen, are you not? There is a grimoire library here; it might be possible to get a new book there.”

You frown, “And how are we going to get to the library when we can’t even leave this place?” You wag your hand.

As if in response to your ill-temper, the fleshy walls begin to disgustingly tremor before a mass of gore twists and reshapes into a massive mouth-like organ. Before you and Cryz can react, it opens a way forward... but even despite the mucus that connects the upper and middle portions, there is a big yellow orb sac hanging between.

“I don’t think I would be covering my palace in crystals if I had the powers this criminal of yours has.”

“Me too,” you comment – just for a second you allow yourself to unwind and engage his crude sarcasm.

> Use Sequin Magic on the orb – then, infuse it with magic in an attempt to drain its magic; it maybe a trap.
> Attempt to squeeze pass the orb without touching it – ask Cryz to follow you and do the same.
> You are not going there. There’s a cluster of snowflake sequins in two different places – you don’t know why but you have a feeling you’ll be able to immobilize and drain the magic to reveal another way or path out of here...
> [Write In]

> Okay. A question, since this “dungeon” is going to be based around Fezar’s use of his flesh magic, and that would imply a use of fleshy body horror and related tropes – I want to hear how “gruesome” you are fine with it being.

>>4202977
>> You are not going there. There’s a cluster of snowflake sequins in two different places – you don’t know why but you have a feeling you’ll be able to immobilize and drain the magic to reveal another way or path out of here...

Deinitely not a good idea to follow the path Fezar wants to lead us down, so let's see where else we can go.

> Okay. A question, since this “dungeon” is going to be based around Fezar’s use of his flesh magic, and that would imply a use of fleshy body horror and related tropes – I want to hear how “gruesome” you are fine with it being.
Personally speaking, I'm not squeamish, so write whatever you like to get your vision across.

>>4202977
>> You are not going there. There’s a cluster of snowflake sequins in two different places – you don’t know why but you have a feeling you’ll be able to immobilize and drain the magic to reveal another way or path out of here...

I wonder why Cynthia knows so much about the sequin magic

> Okay. A question, since this “dungeon” is going to be based around Fezar’s use of his flesh magic, and that would imply a use of fleshy body horror and related tropes – I want to hear how “gruesome” you are fine with it being.

I am fine with body horror so you can do whatever you want

>>4203198
>I wonder why Cynthia knows so much about the sequin magic

>It's like an inner feeling or something, all mages have it with their basic magic. Sequins are often used to decorate clothing, too.

You turn away from Fezar’s “invitation”. If he wants you and Cryz to be his playthings he’s going to try harder. You toss another glance across the corridor of flesh – despite the ghastly darkness all around you all of your sequin shards are dazzling and bright. You try not to think too much about the mass of slithering gore beneath your feet – especially now that you “lost” your boots and have to feel it with your bare skin. It’s just swamp moss, Cynthia...

You approach one of the two sequin flocks, like an ant colony, glimmering on top of a wall. Despite the vast mana of the Grand Magic Zone, as well as the sickening Flesh Magic of Fezar likely layering the palace, you can still feel a strange connection with each one of your sequins. You look at Cryz, whom is either ignoring or unable to sense it?

Your sequins aren’t ordinary, they are magical. To you, they feel like empty shells right now. You raise your hand.

“What are you doing?” Cryz ask, sceptically and annoyingly.

“Just trust me on this,” you mutter to the Diamond Kingdom’s mercenary as you begin to gather your new magic.

“I don’t, but what –are– you doing?” he asks again. If he’s not going to be pro-active, you will be.

You decide against responding; instead, a white radiance escapes from your hands and into the sequin gathering...

> Please roll 1d40+10 – lowest of the three – for the cost of the spell.
> Please roll 1d40 – best of three – for the amount of mana drained by your Magic. 1 or 40 will recover no mana.

Rolled 37 + 10 (1d40 + 10)

>>4204898

Rolled 36 (1d40)

>>4204898
for the draining of mana

Rolled 1 + 10 (1d40 + 10)

>>4204898
Low costs please!

Rolled 15 (1d40)

>>4204898
Mana Drain!

>>4204945
>Sometimes the roll gods listen.

Rolled 7 (1d40)

>>4204898

Rolled 27 (1d40)

>>4204898

>>4204945
nice!

File: Passing through Fezar's s(...).jpg (64 KB, 795x592)

64 KB JPG

You spend 11 mana.
Mana [95/165]

You push your hands closer to the sequin crystals; you focus your alabastrine magic ahead of you. After a brief moment, the sequins begin to twinkle and then glimmer lambently. With each of the sparkle, the flesh of surrounding the walls begins to lesser, crumble and retreat – with nothing but opaque membrane left in its place. The crimson magic is forcefully removed from Fezar’s magical flesh into a glowing white clutch which, after a brief hesitation, you allow to timidly press against your chest and then enter your body.

“Hey, what are yo- I’ll have some of that, too,” he replies as he grasps the magical morsel with his free hand; it obediently enters his body as well. You frown disappointingly – does he not realize you share your mana? “Good.”

You have restored 36 mana.
Mana [131/165]

In place of the wall, where the overhung raw layer of flesh bloated, stands a locked, palatial door. Still, Fezar’s magic, like tendrils made out of maggot-like tissues, continues to creep to cover it once more. You do not waste any time opening the door. You cover your head with your palm as to not get any of the nasty blood on your hair as you bow and enter inside. Cryz follows you into another empty corridor – it is just as “fleshy” as the one before.

Moments later, the pulsating wall of swell closes behind you. You step away: not have the maw tendrils grab you.

“You had no idea that was going to happen, did you?” Cryz asks once he makes sure the corridor is “safe”.

You decide not to answer him; only with a shrug. “The important thing is that we can remove the walls and recover our magic.” He gives you a nod – he is just as impressed by this. “Do you remember where the library is?”

He pauses before innocently shaking his head, “No, all that cancer clump of information is in Zeden’s head...”

“She might not be your friend but you remember her name,” you mention.

He answers back with annoyance, “She won’t let you forget, and I have worked with her several times now.”

You sigh as you venture closer, “Is ‘Crown of Mydias’ that powerful it was worth entering the Clover Kingdom?”

“Apparently,” he steps forward to pull you through the corridor towards the end – where is it separated into pyramid-shaped corridors – left one leading down and the right one leading up. You are more cautious than him.

“That hurts you know,” you admit, feeling some pain in the left wrist you have connected to him, “Apparently?”

“Then don’t pull me either,” he grunts in annoyance, “I dislike us being stuck like this as much as you – kid.” You try your best to remain calm – on the scale of insulting nicknames it is not the worst, and you don’t want to get into an argument over a name. “Yes, apparently; I have no need for those artifacts aside from his big of a price Moris, the Diamond Kingdom’s King, nobles, aristocrats, or the officers of the army are willing to pay me by...”

“Is all that money worth the risk? Are you not afraid to be caught by the Magic Knights and be executed?”

He smiles smugly at you, “If you want a good life it’s expensive. I’m fine as long as Clover Kingdom employs petite and young Magic Knights like you. It used to be a lot harder a few years ago when they only allow nobles, heh...”

You exhale and bite your tongue, but your red face betrays your anger. “So what does the crown do, exactly?”

“Do you know what a Mana Zone is? You likely don’t.”

“I do.” You lie to silence him. You just have to pretend you do.

“From what she said, it’s like that, but the crown does all the work. The range is probably as big as the dungeon.”

Your voice betrays a worry, “So his mana is all over this palace? How are we going to defeat him with this magic?”

Cryz’ braided crystals gently glow with orange chilliness. His glassy eyes stare you down, “Defeat him? We are going to the library to hopefully get a spell strong enough to let us escape from here. I’m not planning on staying here. If I had my Crystal Magic I could’ve easily destroyed those walls, but because I am attached to you, I can’t.”

Well, if you had your Linen Magic... Eh...

“I’m not leaving until I find others, and Fezar is captured: this is the mission entrusted to me as a Magic Knight.”

He tilts his head. He sighs and shakes it, “Who’s asking you? I’m not risking my life for your blind commitment.”

You argue, “I know you don’t want to be stick with a ‘kid’ like me for the rest of our lives. There’s only one way for us to be separate, and that is to force Fezar to do it once he’s captured. So, like it or not we’re not escaping yet.”

“In my visions I was not attached to anybody; I’m certain Morris will be able to split us once we in my kingdom.”

He doesn’t know! And what is going to happen to you in the Diamond Kingdom?

He doesn’t wait to let you think of an argument, “Let’s go,” he begins moving towards the left entrance.

“Why there?” you drag yourself behind him forcefully – you make as hard for him to walk as possible.

He raises his empty left hand to show you – the chamber down below is practically free of Fezar’s flesh. Once again, the room looks abandoned – with dust and sand covering most of the floor. There are a few spots, however, that have been disturbed recently – a few seconds ago, in fact. The thick upper layer of the ceiling resembles crumbled mixture of foil, sandstone and gold. It looks like a man-made ceiling of an underground cavern. Once in a brief while, like an underground trickle, a gold nugget breaks and falls on a specific part of the floor, into a hole – only to disappear. The nuggets continue to fall endlessly; it seems, like a never-ending rain.

You toss a quick glance to the upper room – Fezar’s Flesh Magic has disfigured it much ruthlessly. The walls are covered in bulging and bleeding membrane and the floor, where the original trap used to be, is cracked as if there was an eruption. From tentacle roots tadpole-like stalks with revolting, yellowish - yet clear - cysts of bile hang.

Inside each of those crust casings there are clusters of solid white egg with an eerie green pattern to them...

> Resist Cryz and somehow attempt to convince him to go to the other room instead.
> Follow Cryz but make it obvious you are doing so reluctantly and keeping a close eye on him.
> Take a sit on the bulging organical floor and refuse to move until Cryz promises to fight Fezar.
> [Write In]

>>4206985
>> Resist Cryz and somehow attempt to convince him to go to the other room instead.
>> Grimoire libraries are usually in towers, wouldn't it make more sense to look higher up for it?

>>4206985
>> Resist Cryz and somehow attempt to convince him to go to the other room instead.
>>4207013
this

“We need to go up,” you continue to resist his heave. You nod your head towards the fleshier of the two rooms. He doesn’t pause. You pull your connected wrists to catch his attention, “The libraries are usually in towers...”

He harrumphs and exposes his sharp orange-glowing fangs, “Do you know how many towers there are in here?”

“No, we’ll have to check every one of them; what I know for certain is that to reach a tower you need to go –up–.”

He pauses – he eyes set on the golden crumbles gently showering from the top of the ceiling of the other room.

“I don’t see why we can’t stop in there for a few minutes. I want to return with at least something in my pockets.”

You stare at him blandly. You shake your head, “It’s a trap.”

He doesn’t sound convinced. Cryz continues to pull you closer. You and him are stuck in-between the two doors. Your connected wrists hit into the sandstone frame separating the two entrances. Each pull is grinding your skin.

“It’s obviously a trap,” you repeat with a deadpan expression.

After a brief reconsideration, Cryz raises his free palm and points it towards the room. He has a solemn but selfish expression as “his” mana lights up into the silver magic. The magic crystals begin to cling to the gold-plated roof...

He hems and mulls over, “There is some magic in the ceiling, but it could be what allows the gold to rain like this.”

The sequins are spread out across the entirety of the canopy – it might be too much to over-drain with your magic.

Before you can reply you realize that one of the sordid epithelium stems – there are at least twenty of them here – bends out of shape, lower to shattered floor. Like a whip, it straightens and the foul sack breaks towards you...!

And only you because Cryz is hidden out of the damn way!

> Please roll 1d100 – best of three – to avoid being hit.

> Pull Cryz together with you inside the tentacle room; you will need to be forceful here to make him follow you.
> Push Cryz from behind to enter the fleshless room. Maybe keep an eye on him so he doesn’t do anything stupid?
> [Write In]

> You can ask or question Cryz anything you’d like, by the way.

Rolled 9 (1d100)

>>4208679 > Pull Cryz together with you inside the tentacle room; you will need to be forceful here to make him follow you.

Rolled 21 (1d100)

>>4208679
>> Pull Cryz together with you inside the tentacle room; you will need to be forceful here to make him follow you.

>>4208838
I hope the next person rolls high. Doesn't seem like the right time to question him since we're in the middle of being attacked. Maybe after we see how this turns out.

Rolled 58 (1d100)

>>4208679
>Pull!

Dodge, Duck, Dip, Dive, and Dodge! High roll please!

Your eyes open widen as the putrid-yellow crust fruit flies towards you. In panic, you put both of your hands to grab Crys’s wrist and pull. Cryz is caught off-guard from his pondering as, under your drag, the two of you gracelessly collapse up to several steps upwards and then into the flesh-consumed chamber. You try to tip and dive but the massive cyst smashes directly into your face and pops like a pimple to cover you in –disgusting– and vomit inducing oil. Some of it covers Cryz. Hopelessly, you try to clean yourself with the lack of your Linen Magic.

“And then she said ‘That’s an obvious trap’ and then she dragged me from the raining gold into an even more obvious ambush to get covered by pustule,” Cryz angrily stares down the floor. He is talking to himself, not to you.

You wince in revulsion as you do your best not to breathe the rotten smell of no matter what that liquid was...

“Well I tried asking you nic-“you begin but stop when you realize that the white eggs inside the tossed bile orb are now lying all around you – cracked. You can’t help but quietly scream and slam your back against Cryz’s as you notice disfigured – even mutated – snakes, each as small as your finger, slithering towards you. On impulse, you consider smashing one of them with your foot; you realize you’ll just be making it easier for them to bite you.

You miss your boots.

They jump, but barely miss biting into your and Cryz’s skin. The man quickly manifests a cloud of sequin crystals to cover the snakes and make it incredibly hard for their heavy bodies to writhe around. He stares you down crossly.

“Are you purposefully trying to get us killed?”

“No!” You say. Cryz tries to pull you back but the previously open entrance is now covered in a gory membrane.

“Then what is your plan –now–?” he glances around as you find yourself standing trapped in a tendrils chamber.

There are many of them here, like a garden overgrown with demonic weed – to set an example. The eggs may be the original trap, but the tentacle flowers are not. Are they under Fezars’ control? Do they respond to your steps?

Movements? Magic? Voice?

Now that you look closer, there doesn’t seem to be an obvious exit anywhere – must be covered by Fezar’s flesh...

> There must be a way out, but it is going to require you use your Sequin Magic. However, if you use it here, it can possibly cling to and trigger the egg-stems, maybe? Would it be possible for you and Cryz to do the “draining” at the same time? Even if you do, that will still leave more than a dozen tendrils standing, ready to attack you. Another reckless possibility is to rush towards the other side of the chamber – where the exit is possibly located... but you are still going to have to spend dangerous time to remove the fleshy layer surrounding the potential door.

>>4210814
> Try to work together with Cryz to use our Sequin magic to drain the stalks and clear a path to the other side of the chamber.

I don't envy Cynthia right now, everyone in that dungeon will be lucky if they manage to escape without contracting some weird disease. We can't get our healing magic back soon enough!

>>4210828
this

I wonder if we are playing into his hand right now, he could be using reverse reverse psychology

>>4210859
Shit dude, I'm not prepared to play 4D chess.

“There’s no other choice but to charge,” you tell Cryz as you attempt to pull him along.

The green-haired man scoffs and points a finger behind his back, “Or... we could just go to that other room?”

You try to pull him along – with a heavy sigh, he takes a step forwards. Your run is clumsy and awkward – it is incredibly hard to follow Cryz’ pace while connected to him by your wrist. You are having a much harder time finding your balance on the unstable and destroyed floor that is covered in swelling flesh. Ch. The cold sandstone scratches and bleeds your exposed feet. The fleshy stalks bend in wait; their membrane blooms loosely twist to connect with the dust of the sandstone floor... You raise your free hand towards one of the closer stems to you.

You tell Cryz to do the same. His eyes narrow but he, too, turns away to target another near-ready arced stem...

Almost at the same time, an argent cloud of magic escapes from yours and Cryz’s palms. From the albino luminousness, like ice, sequin crystals begin to form and one by one begin quickly overwhelming the two flesh tentacles. Despite the fact that your magical sequins are acting in the same way as they were when you used them against the walls, something is not right. You shrug the thought as you begin attempting to drain it of mana...

From across the chamber, at least two vile sacks are flying towards you! It feels as if you’ve angered a beehive.

> Please roll 1d100 – best of three – to avoid the cyst pellicle balloon flying in your direction – one of many...
> Please roll 1d40+10 – lowest of the three – for the cost of the spell.
> Please roll 1d40 – best of three – for the amount of mana drained by your Magic.

> Cryz has his own HP gauge but he shares your Mana Pool. Cryz will do his own spell rolls, but not the dodging.

> I have made one adjustment to your basic spell – to make it more explanatory – it’s that if the amount of mana is not enough to drain all of the trap’s or object’s mana it is still going to trigger. Hopefully that makes sense...

Rolled 55 (1d100)

>>4212737
Alright dice gods, don't fuck us here!
Dodge roll first

Rolled 25, 8 = 33 (2d40)

>>4212777
First d40 is spell cost, second is mana drain.

Rolled 28 (1d100)

>>4212737

Rolled 7 + 10 (1d40 + 10)

>>4212737

Rolled 2 (1d40)

>>4212737

Rolled 24, 63, 82 = 169 (3d100)

>>4212737

Rolled 33 + 10 (1d40 + 10)

>>4212737

Rolled 17 (1d40)

>>4212737

>>4215177
>New Bread.