>>4218256

>Converse with the storytelling man

Having reached this irritating yet oh-so-amusing conclusion, you finish off your mead and make your way over to the table where the big guy appears to have just finished telling his story, to the tune of applause and laughter.

"Tell a good tale, do you?"

He turns his head and gives you a once-over, before deciding you couldn't possibly mean any ill. "So say my comrades, aye," he declares. "Are you keen to hear one?"

"Nothing breathes fire back into old bones like a new story." You hobble around the table to find an empty chair and sit down in it, quietly raging every time you lean on your walking stick for appearance's sake. "So dull are my embers, young man, that I might be willing to part with a gold coin or two in exchange for one. Something local, say - a story of the city, perhaps, or the man at its helm?"

"Aha." He gives you a more discerning look this time, staring down the long table with every other person seated following his gaze, looking down to you and then back up to him. A judgement of some kind is anticipated; it is preceded, equally predictably by a question. "And may I ask what you would hear of our good satrap?"

"Well, I'm a stranger to your fine city," you answer, twirling your walking stick and leaning it against the table. "And know not a thing about it, but for it being a bit warmer than the foothills in wintertime. So give me your take, teller of tales, and be candid! Stories or no, this old man's got an ear for fibs."

The big man at the head of the table looks to each side of it in turn before facing you fully, laying both his hands on the table. "Alright, then, grandpa." Your eye twitches in annoyance, but your bushy brows distract from it enough that no one appears to have noticed. "Here's a classic: when dear old Tepet Lagen first strolled up to our humble Hoarfrost. Everyone loves that one, eh?"

This is met with a chorus of agreement, whereupon he throws up his hands in a celebratory manner. "Grand, grand! If some gold's on the table, my man, we'll have us a story!" He yells this in a boom that fills the tavern, and within moments, all talk in the place has hushed, and all eyes fallen on him.

>>4218257

"When our brave and noble Tepet Lagen first arrived in Hoarfrost, he rode in an orichalcum chariot adorned with blue dragons. He rolled right through our humble gates, near trampling some of our unworthy heads beneath his horses' holy hooves." That elicits some snickers from the listeners, leading you to understand that it's all being facetiously delivered. "And then mighty, generous Tepet Lagen did roll up to our market square, where we gentle folk exchanged our goods and made our livelihoods. 'Here', said Tepet Lagen, 'will I build my royal tower. You filthy peasants build it for me!' said he, with a glower. And woe to us, defy a dynast none were bold enough to do, so with materials carted in from abroad, our grandparents work and slaved and bled on where was once our market place, and now there stands a tower, tall enough that they say you can see Yu-Shan from its top. Into it vanished our great hero, to comb his mighty hair and trim his mighty beard, but oh! That task has taken ninety years, and though sometimes you can spy him with a telescope out on his balcony, sunning himself like a great cat - or perhaps more accurately, like a beached carp - he never descends to the level of us vile, filthy peasants, does he?"

"No!" comes the cheer of all those present, laughing and crashing their mugs against one another's. "He'd never stoop so low!"

"And so he sits, that Tepet Lagen of ours, awaiting the day where his hair and beard are perfect enough for him to emerge from the ground doors and grace us with his most radiant presence. Some say it might be as soon as this century!" This is greeted with false excitement from the taverngoers. It makes you wonder if the telling of this story is a ritual that these folk have practiced. If, as they say, the satrap has been relaxing in his tower of luxury for almost a hundred years, then it's quite possible this story has been passed down from parent to child, now a tradition in and of itself.

"So, grandfather, does that align with anything that you've heard thus far? Have you traveled to our city of Hoarfrost in hopes of glimpsing the glory of our satrap?"

>I hoped to ask a favor of him.
>I came hoping to find an old apprentice of mine.
>I'm looking for someone (ask about new arrivals).
>[Write In]

>>4218260

A/N: Hey everyone! I thought I could beat the exam crush with my last post, and unfortunately I just didn't write quickly enough and got stuck in a morass of school and overcomplicated job applications. However, the silver lining to this is that with all of that out of the way, I can go back to my desired schedule of updating Tim Quest every other day, if not every day. Furthermore, at that pace, we'll be seeing through Tim's eyes again before long. Thanks to all of you who are still on board.

>>4218260
>I'm looking for someone. Have you seen a noble like lady in blue ?
>>4218263
Glad you’re back and well OP

>>4218260
>I'm looking for someone. Have you seen a noble like lady in blue ?

>>4218260
>I'm looking for someone. Have you seen a noble like lady in blue ?
>>4218263
Welcome back OP

>>4218260
>I'm looking for someone. A noble-looking lady in blue, an old apprentice of mine. Have you seen anyone who looks like that?

>>4218332
This

>>4218332
>>4218859
>>4219163

>"As it happens, I'm looking for someone. A noblewoman with the most striking blue eyes, impossible to mistake for any other pair."

"A noblewoman?" The storyteller leans forward, intrigued by the prospect of hearing what might be a story of your own. "You her granddad?"

"Not I," you say truthfully, "but I owe it to a man very close to my heart to find her and tell her of his last wish." You're still not lying; you yourself are a man inimitably close to your own heart, and in Blue's dying moments you will give her your last and only wish. You must be very careful of lies; Blue's No Moon powers allow her to see through any falsehood, and for all you know she's in this very room, listening for a clue as to where - or who - her hunter might be. As it happens, you haven't told a lie since entering the city proper. it's true that you want the satrap to hear a request of yours, and you do live in the foothills - just not the ones under the Cergarid mountains.

"A noble cause," says the big man, nodding as if he understands. "Well, if you're willing to throw out an extra dinar or so, I might be able to jog my memory as to whether or not I've seen such a pair of eyes as of late."

The absolute cheek of this man! You're of more than half a mind to pull your sword from Elsewhere and make him talk, but it's still too soon to drop the act. And anyway, with the kind of money Shadow's political maneuvering has given you access to, a dinar is less than pocket change. So you give him that dinar, and another one besides. "Recall anything?" you ask, struggling valiantly to keep your tone level and amused.

>>4223496

He puts a hand to his stubbled chin, stroking it in a token show of thought, before snapping his fingers and appearing to brighten. "Now that I'm thinking about it... I've seen no such woman, noble or otherwise."

What a joker. You make a mental note to come back and bisect this fool in front of the entire clown posse after dealing with Tepet Lagen. Still, you make no move to take back the paltry money you gave him, simply rising from your seat and taking up your walking stick. "So be it," you call over your shoulder, sure that you've at least earned the right to portray this old man as irritated. "I'll seek answers elsewhere."

Taking your leave of the Winter Knight tavern, you hobble across the street, keeping your face calm until you reach the shadows of a side street. Only then do you allow a hint of your rage to seep through, twisting your elderly features nearly to the point of tearing. Were they toying with you, or did Blue bribe the townsfolk into secrecy with money or promises? You lean against the fence around someone's yard, crossing your arms and staring a hole into the ground, wondering how to proceed with your investigation without alerting your former circle-mate, when the sound of feet on the dirt road alerts you to the approach of a group.

When you look up, you find that the storyteller and his companions have surrounded you, hands wandering towards crude weaponry at their hips. Maintaining a calm expression, you meet the tall man's glare with a neutral stare and he holds it silently for a moment before speaking.

"There are those of us," he says in a low voice, "who remember the tales of glories past, and who know our exalted overlords for what they really are. If you've come for a Wyld Hunt, old man, I suggest you depart; you'll find no traction against the children of Luna with us."

>Assure them that you've come to bring aid to a Lunar.
>Enough of patience. Slaughter them!
>Reveal your true form and demand obeisance.
>Tell them that you bear no ill will towards the Lunar Exalted.
>[Write In]

>>4223498
>Assure them that you've come to bring aid to a Lunar.
Still technically true, and doesn't give away any details about us.

>>4223498
>Assure them that you've come to bring aid to a Lunar

>>4223496
>Assure them that you've come to bring aid to a Lunar.

>>4223498
>Assure them that you've come to bring aid to a Lunar

>>4223498
>Assure them that you've come to bring aid to a Lunar.

>>4223537
>>4223694
>>4223695
>>4224160
>>4224196

>Assure them you've come to bring aid to a Lunar.

It takes a tense moment before you've gotten your murderous urges properly under control. Thankfully, the expression your elderly features take on looks as if you're simply weighing your options before giving them the truth, twisted appropriately: "Then I am in good company," you say, infusing your voice with nearly-genuine relief. "In truth, I am here to bring aid on behalf of one of the Lunar Exalted." That certainly gets their attention; some of them begin to lower their weapons. Just as you sense the tension begin to fade, the storyteller holds up his hand, and readiness returns to the group.

"Wait." He fixes you with a grim analytical stare. It's intimidating for what a human can muster, but you don't think there's anything left in Creation that could frighten you after facing down the fire dragon in Wild Light. You return his stare, feigning concern as best you can. "The Lunar you've come to help. What's their name?"

That one's a no-brainer. After all, it's not even a half-truth. "Shadow of Eagles," you tell him solemnly, "who now rules Great Forks, sent me to help in securing the allegiance of the satrap in the conflict to come."

A look of wonder enters the storyteller's eyes as his hand lowers, and with it, the weapons of his comrades. "So it's true," he murmurs. "The Scavenger Lands will know new masters."

"The Age of Sorrows has shackled our hopes for far too long, son," you say, wearing a smirk of preemptive triumph. "The time for the silver Stewards to take their rightful thrones is nigh."

>>4233867

Almost as one, these citizens of Hoarfrost who moments ago seemed keen on attacking you fall to their knees in deference to you. "How may we help you?"

"Rise," you say, unable to keep a note of scorn from your voice. "I am not the master of Great Forks, merely his agent. You can help me by giving me the information I'm looking for. One of the Lunar exalted arrived here before me; a sorceress whose eyes are of the deepest blue, no matter what form she takes." Your gaze sweeps across them as they get back to their feet, humbled by the revelation of your allegiance to Shadow of Eagles. "You told me you hadn't seen such a lady. Did you speak truly?"

"We did," the storyteller asserts, meeting your eyes with renewed confidence. "But I saw something else: a bluebird, of a kind that never nests this far north. This bird had the eyes of which you speak. When I asked it what it was doing so far from home, it surprised me by answering in the voice of a woman: that it had come to free us of tyranny, and flew on towards the satrap's tower." He points out said tower to you, quite unnecessarily; it's plainly visible from just about anywhere in the city. Still, you turn to look at it, and unseen to them, your wizened lips crack into a nasty smile that you generally reserve for your prey. Today, that smile is for Blue and Lagen as you begin to close in on your mark.

"I see."

>Infiltrate the tower by posing as a Terrestrial exalt. This will grant you authority, but put you under more scrutiny
>Infiltrate the tower by posing as one of Lagen's staff. This'll allow for direct contact with at least one of your marks.
>Lure Blue out by sending a messenger. Better to face her out here than inside a tower full of Terrestrials.
>You know they're both in there. Drop your mask and storm the tower. Who could possibly stand in your way?
>[Write In]

>>4233872
>Infiltrate the tower by posing as a Terrestrial exalt. This will grant you authority, but put you under more scrutiny

>>4233872
>Infiltrate the tower by posing as one of Lagen's staff. This'll allow for direct contact with at least one of your marks.

>>4233872
>Infiltrate the tower by posing as one of Lagen's staff. This'll allow for direct contact with at least one of your marks.

>>4233872
>Infiltrate the tower by posing as one of Lagen's staff. This'll allow for direct contact with at least one of your marks.

>>4233872
>Infiltrate the tower by posing as one of Lagen's staff. This'll allow for direct contact with at least one of your marks.

File: In Disguise.jpg (38 KB, 600x259)

38 KB JPG

>>4234061
>>4234341
>>4234345
>>4235833

>Infiltrate the tower by posing as one of Lagen's staff.

A minute's further conversation with the storyteller and his band yields precious little. The satrap is such a recluse that people hardly know anything about him except for what few decrees he makes about the city. They apparently know nothing of his dealings beyond the satrapy, which explains why that barmaid was unaware of the supposed undead incursion. He is a sneaky one, but decades of lassitude will have brought his guard down, which is both to your advantage and to Blue's. She'll be masking her tell somehow in order to move about the tower undetected, and you're going to have to do the same.

Having silver markings no matter the form you wear didn't get in the way of your posing as an old man, who would be expected to have silver hair, but you'll have to be discerning with whose shape you assume henceforth. A random animal running around the tower unattended will alert Blue. Assassinating a Terrestrial without anyone noticing would be a risky endeavour; not to mention that, if you assumed one's form, you'd have some kind of attention on you at all times. What you're looking for is someone who wouldn't be missed, but who'd be allowed - even expected - to have his duties take him all around the tower. To that end, you ultimately decide that a servant will do best. More specifically, you're looking for a janitor.

Taking your leave of the Lunar supporters, you make sure you're unseen before assuming your totem form. Moments later, a white raven takes flight from behind a wooden shed in someone's yard, its plumage aiding it in going unnoticed against the pale sky and the snowy mountains in the distance. No one casts you a second glance as you soar lazily towards the tower, making it seem to any casual observer as if you're just a normal bird flying about in search of food. Eventually, you do reach it, perching on a high, wide windowsill and peeking through the glass in search of a custodian.

>>4240863

You see servants aplenty carrying trays about, attending nobles, and polishing up the decor. The room you're looking into is grand and ostentatious, much more so than any part of Iron Reed's castle. Red marble columns decorated with ascending blue dragons partially obstruct your vision, lining both sides of what must be a hall. Surely the other rooms aren't so decadent! But lo, a quick flap around to some of the lower windows confirms that this place is indeed stacked on at least half a dozen floors with the richest of furnishings. Where the fuck did all this money come from? The citizens of Hoarfrost sure didn't build this place for him, and by the account of the story told in the Winter Knight tavern it wasn't already built when he came here. It can't have been his inheritance; even a dynast would have to reach fairly deep into their savings to get something like this built out here in the Scavenger Lands. And yet, here it is.

Very suspicious. That curiosity rests in the back of your mind as you flap around in search of your quarry, heightening your eyesight to better see through the windows. You're of half a mind to give up and just storm the place from the top down when something catches your enhanced eye. Way down in the marketplace, several men in yellow robes move breezily among the stands with small carts in tow, obviously shopping. What's significant about it are the blue dragons decorating their robes - exact replicas of the ones on the pillars inside. Another look through the window confirms that, indeed, some of the servants are garbed in yellow robes with blue dragons. You don't know how often the servants come out to select produce, so this might be your only chance to infiltrate wearing another's skin.

Leaping from the sill, you glide downwards in lazy circles, keeping one eye trained on the shopper furthest from the others, until you gauge where his progress will align with the opening of a side street. It's there that you land, retaking your true form, and wait until he coincides with the opening of the street. You call out "hey!" for the purpose of attracting his attention, and when he glances over, the claws on the ends of your fingers go through his trachea and up into his head, simultaneously killing him and allowing you to hook his dying body into the side street.

>>4240867

It takes the other servants a moment to realize what's happened, and by the time they realize he's gone, you step out of the side street wearing his form. You give the others a nod, and then you proceed as the servant was, forcing yourself to patiently examine persimmons and put them in your cart while the others do the same at other corners of the market. Silently urging them to hurry up, lest someone discover the corpse you've chucked into an alley and make a scene, you make the round of the marketplace and then join the others on the way back to the ivory tower. The tensest moments are the last few, when you're being admitted back in by the guards at the doors, and you're just waiting to hear the scream of panic as someone finds the dead servant's body. But it never comes, and when you next exhale, you're inside Tepet Lagen's tower, taking in the surprising lack of splendour.

Huh. The lower floors must be mostly frequented by servants; even though the building is all gleaming white outside, the inside of this entrance hall is simple wood cut from local trees. The majority of Lagen's splurging must have been done on the upper floors where the Terrestrials hold court. That's where you know you'll find him, climactically enough; near the very top of this monolithic structure. And somewhere else in here, Cloaked in Deepest Blue awaits your arrival. It is imperative that you find her out before she does you; even you will be pushed to your limits facing off against dozens of Dragon-Blooded warriors, let alone if they're fighting with her on their side.

>Discreetly search the tower for Cloaked in Deepest Blue.
>Find Tepet Lagen and decide how to deal with him first.
>Look for a better body to steal. That of a low-ranking servant might not see you to the top.
>[Write In]

>>4240868
>Find Tepet Lagen and decide how to deal with him first.
This may be a pipe dream, but I'm wondering if we can somehow turn those dozens of Dragon-Blooded warriors against Blue.

>>4240868
>Find Tepet Lagen and decide how to deal with him first.
Hey OP, can't you make updates at least once a day ? things have got quite slow in the last 2-3 quests

>>4240868
>Find Tepet Lagen and decide how to deal with him first.

>>4240868
>Find Tepet Lagen and decide how to deal with him first.