>>6051761
>Yang Wuhan; The Heavenly Demon.
A man with a bloody reputation and even bloodier past. He gained power through a forbidden blood art where he soaked for 20 days and 20 nights in the blood and tears of a 1,000 virgins. After eliminating too many sects and stealing too many jade beauties he was put down a by a coalition of both the righteous and unorthodox sects working together.

>Cai Jianhong; The Heavenly Assassin.
A creature that was raised for pure bloodshed. Born to do the dirty work that the righteous sects frowned upon. Infected with a Qi poisoning worm that could be activated by his masters, he had no choice but to day after day kill all who the righteous sects deemed evil and demonic until he was called the Heavenly Assassin. One day he found a manual that led to a breakthrough in his cultivation that killed the Qi poisoning worm and was attacked by the a group of the righteous sect elders in fear of retribution.

>Fu Xuefueng. The Heavenly Ice Witch.
A woman born with the Yin Ice Vein Constitution. She was doomed to die an early and painful death, but she was a peerless genius and her constitution made her uniquely suited to the Yin arts. In an attempt to cure herself she threatened to destroy the earthly world if the heavens didn't cure her, and when the heavens laughed at her she showed her power. After the destruction of countless sects and mortal lives the heavens sent down a champion who had previously ascended to put her down with the support of the righteous sects.

>>6051762
>Cai Jianhong; The Heavenly Assassin

>>6051770
Higher effort than most. I'll trust a goblin.

>>6051770
Silly guy. Goblins are only male. That's why they're so aggressive with women of other species. They can't even comprehend the concept of changing genders with their small brains.

>>6051762
>Fu Xuefueng. The Heavenly Ice Witch.
Make them a woman. Perhaps we can trade sex for what she wants from us.
Maybe thats a dumb thought, but you can just vote for the others so

>>6051762
>Fu Xuefueng. The Heavenly Ice Witch.
A woman born with the Yin Ice Vein Constitution. She was doomed to die an early and painful death, but she was a peerless genius and her constitution made her uniquely suited to the Yin arts. In an attempt to cure herself she threatened to destroy the earthly world if the heavens didn't cure her, and when the heavens laughed at her she showed her power. After the destruction of countless sects and mortal lives the heavens sent down a champion who had previously ascended to put her down with the support of the righteous sects.

>>6051762
>Yang Wuhan; The Heavenly Demon.
Korean heavenly demon goblin cult quest a go go.

>>6051762
>Fu Xuefueng. The Heavenly Ice Witch.
female spotted

>>6051762
>Yang Wuhan; The Heavenly Demon.

Nice opening, very funny. Lets take a real fucking sword demon as our master

>>6051762

>>6051768 is me, and I'll switch to
>Yang Wuhan; The Heavenly Demon.
to avoid the ice waifu

>Yang Wuhan; The Heavenly Demon.
The heavenly demon is an easy choice.

>Yang Wuhan Wins

Writing...

File: Undiagnosed Schizophrenia.jpg (929 KB, 1920x1280)

929 KB JPG

You get a closer look at him and while you don't really differentiate much between human faces since (they all look the same to your goblin eyes), even you can tell that he looks like one mean and arrogant bastard.

And he proves you right by viciously insulting you for not immediately helping him and instead taking five seconds to look at him. Stating that you're merely a "summer ant" with "false dao" and that you're "courting death" by not giving him the small rooted plant in your hands. These nonsensical and confusing insults continue on for another few seconds before you start to see the anger in the human turn into genuine fear.

Clutching his chest forcefully he takes a wobbly step onto his feet and looks down at you with hesitance.

"Creature. I am Yang Wuhan; The Dragon-Slayer, The Sword Specter, The Absolute One, The One Who Baptized The World In Blood, The Embodiment Of Fury, and The Heavenly Demon. I have never bowed and never asked for anything- only took and demanded. I even spit at the very heavens when they extended their hands to me. So when I say these words… Know the gravity of them.

"Will you give me the ginseng? I will give you power like this realm has never seen. I swear it. No harm will come to you from me."

You don't why this human is being so dramatic over a plant. You don't see how this root thing you were going to snack on is going to help his seizures or mental illness, but you guess you could give it to him.

The question is how are you going to give it to him.

>Bow as gracefully as you can and present to him with care. (Forms Master/Student Relationship)

>Scratch your green asshole a little before handing it to the fucker. (Forms Begrudging Benefactor Relationship)

>Chew it up in your mouth and feed it to him like a stinky green mother bird. (He Really Fucking Hates You But He Swore An Oath Relationship)

(This is mostly cosmetic to how you guys interact with each-other by default in the future).

>>6051828
>Bow as gracefully as you can and present to him with care. (Forms Master/Student Relationship)

He's been nice to us, a green stain of shit, we should return the kindness, especially since he hasn't started beating us with jumper cables yet

>>6051828
>Bow as gracefully as you can and present to him with care. (Forms Master/Student Relationship)
Let's prove the world wrong and show everyone that goblins can be good too.

>>6051828
>>Bow as gracefully as you can and present to him with care. (Forms Master/Student Relationship)

I'd also take
>Chew it up in your mouth and feed it to him like a stinky green mother bird. (He Really Fucking Hates You But He Swore An Oath Relationship)
but ONLY if we think we're genuinely being helpful when we act like this, because that's just how Goblin Culture (tm) is.

>>6051834
Goblins don't really understand the concept of using flasks for potions and the like or how to uncork a flask to access a potion, so the typical way they heal each other in combat situations it to chew a herb with healing properties and spit it onto the open wound.

So, yes, he would misguidedly think it's helpful. And, yes, I did just add this bit of lore to the world on the spot just now.

>>6051839
However, Mr Yang didn't ask to eat it, just to be given it. For all we know he wants to sodomize himself with it, in which case, the chewing wouldn't be helpful

>>6051839
A compromise; we chew it up and then give it to him to apply as he pleases. We don't know where to put it to treat seizures!

>>6051842
We can only hope it isn't rectally applied

>>6051840
Sadly Mr Yang can't sodomize himself with the 5,000 Year Old Ginseng because this a blue board. He'll have to stick with mouth to mouth resuscitation or having being given to him with care (and possibly asshole dust) so he can chew it up himself.

Also to be fair it is a food of some kind, so I think a dim little goblin wouldn't think it so farfetched that he would probably eat it to heal himself.

>>6051828
>Bow, but not with much grace
We can be courteous, but we dont know his power. He could just be a weirdo who wants our snack

>>6051846
don't be so sure. Have you heard of what the french do with baguettes? if you do not, goggle Soupeur

>>6051828
>Bow as gracefully as you can and present to him with care. (Forms Master/Student Relationship)

>>6051828
>Scratch your green asshole a little before handing it to the fucker. (Forms Begrudging Benefactor Relationship)

>>6051828
>Bow as gracefully as you can and present to him with care. (Forms Master/Student Relationship)
Damn, I like the art, cool color pallet and composition, have you ever made a quest before or is this the first one?

>>6051828
>Chew it up in your mouth and feed it to him like a stinky green mother bird. (He Really Fucking Hates You But He Swore An Oath Relationship)

The quest title is already preset comedy. I say gun it. Full sneed ahead.

>>6051828
>Bow as gracefully as you can and present to him with care. (Forms Master/Student Relationship)

>>6051828
>Chew it up in your mouth and feed it to him like a stinky green mother bird. (He Really Fucking Hates You But He Swore An Oath Relationship)

Why so serious!? MC is a goblin! Act like one!

>>6051853
Kinky.

>>6051890
To be clear I didn't make the art. After "Chinese Goblin" didn't return good results I looked "Meditating Goblin" on images and found this. And this is my first real quest, I made like two shitpost ones before that I quickly dropped.

>Master/Student Relationship Wins!
Wow you anons are no fun.

Writing...

File: Goon Hut.jpg (179 KB, 1280x720)

179 KB JPG

You're at first tempted to feed the paradoxically named "Heavenly Demon" the ginseng the traditional goblin way, but somehow the way he's talking to you here is appealing to you on a deeper level. You've always been beaten down or cursed by the greater races. Relegated to the role of pest and occasional nuisance. You clawed back at them the best you could. Kidnapping, theft, assault, just about every violent crime in the book and more. To prove you're not lesser.

But it didn't matter. Your clan was never considered a great threat or even really a threat at all. Your clan was wiped out for a pittance of gold offered at a dingy adventurers guild by a singular low-level human. This human may be insane, but at least he's talking to you like you're a sentient being, and even more importantly he's offering you something greater. Power and respect that you and your race have never seen before.

As gracefully as your gangly goblin body can muster. You bow your head and with outstretched arms present the ginseng to him. He wordlessly takes it and with a big gulp swallows it whole.

"This should stop the poisonous Qi for now," he states.

"And..." he gulps, "Thank you."

"Creature, take me to your home. I need to circulate my Qi in a safe place to stave off the Turbid Qi infesting my body. FUCKING RIGHTEOUS SECT PRICKS, I'LL RIP THEIR HEADS OFF AND TAKE THEIR JADE BEAUTIES PAWN OFF AS GIFTS TO MY SERVANTS. YOU HAVE COURTED DEAAAAAAAAATH."

After the random outburst you lead Yang Wuhan back to the (un)inhabited cabin where you've been staying, which he looks at with an appraising eye.

"This will not do. The Feng-Shui of this place is all out of order. There is not enough Fire element and too much Wood, and even more importantly no BLOOD. This is my first lesson to you- cultivating in unsuitable places for the Blood Maiden Heaven Star Technique will lead to Qi Deviation. For our needs we need a suitable amount of blood soaked into the walls and floors of this place, the terrible element balance can be ignored for now."

"Go fetch some blood, Creature. Preferably the blood of pure virgin maidens. If that's too far outside your abilities, however, any blood will do for now."

He hands you a bag and a jeweled.

"This is the Heavenly Evil Storing Pouch. It can hold any amount of treasures inside it. Store the blood inside here. The dagger is the Demonically Heavenly Stabbing Dagger. It's a peerless treasure."

You don't really understand the point of preferring virgins outside of some weird fetish. Your clan just appreciated having any kind of breeding stock at all. The women your clan captured if they were virgins, certainly weren't for long.

Leaving to attend to your task you suddenly hear a loud booming voice scream

"WHY IS THERE A PILE OF GREEN SHITS HERE AAAARRRGGGHHA."

Uh oh, look like he found the shit drawer. That's not definitely not Feng-Shui appropriate. Better take a long time gathering blood until he cools down.

(1/2)

>>6052141
How are you going to gather the blood?

>Go try to kidnap a maiden from the village in the middle of the night

>Hunt an animal to drain

>Go back to your goblin clan's old cave. There's definitely enough blood there, and hopefully the Goblin Slayer's gone.
>Write-In

>>6052142
>Go try to kidnap a maiden from the village in the middle of the night

Jesus that formatting is ugly. Oh well.

>>6052142
>Go try to kidnap a maiden from the village in the middle of the night

>>6052142
>Go back to your goblin clan's old cave. There's definitely enough blood there, and hopefully the Goblin Slayer's gone.

>>6052142

>Go try to kidnap a maiden from the village in the middle of the night

>>6052142
>>Go back to your goblin clan's old cave. There's definitely enough blood there, and hopefully the Goblin Slayer's gone.

File: 1719191643438454 1581216289682.jpg (28 KB, 442x512)

28 KB JPG

>>6051853
>mfw I discover why the french piss on the sidewalk
>it is to disguise the smell of their bread
Japan had two excuses what was M. HonHon's bloody excuse

File: 1000062003.jpg (13 KB, 210x295)

13 KB JPG

>>6052142
>kidnap a village maiden
given the goblin's size and being alone, the only virgin he might carry off is a five year old coming outside for a wee.

this can be funny or very very bad

>>6052142
>Go try to kidnap a maiden from the village in the middle of the night
Grab the most ugly one, the ugly ones are most definitively a virgin

>>6052142
>Go try to kidnap a maiden from the village in the middle of the night

But let our wacky house guest do his blood play thing first

>>6052142
>>Go try to kidnap a maiden from the village in the middle of the night

>>6052247
check the lobes on this guy.

Nice

Hey all: GB got banned for a day so expect a small delay on updates. Thanks for your patience and for playing!

>>6052142
>go back to your goblin clan

Surprised nobody has suggested this. We’re weak. A deer could skewer us. The slayer would have little reason to stay in our clan after he’s looted it

But he could have many reasons to stay in the village. Maybe he’s resting after a big day of slaying- or maybe the mayor offered him his daughter as a reward and he’s pounding her nightly.

Shame about the shit drawer. We’ll have to find a stealthier place. The oven perhaps? The shits will burn away when he cooks dinner.

>>6052839
Was that related to the catalogue purge?

>>6053889
What, and share our new friend/resource with other gobs? No way!

>>6053952
Nah it was for ERP. I don't really see how there was anything overtly ERP in my quest and other quests toe the line a lot hard than this one but it is what it is.

I'll try to get in an update tonight

>Kidnap a maiden at night

You decide that kidnapping a maiden, while not the safest option, is probably the one that'll yield the best results. You aren't fully convinced of this strange man's powers and that "Feng-Shui" stuff sounds like something you would make up after huffing dung, but you at least got a Heavenly dagger out of it already.

You go deeper into the forest to kill time by swinging the dagger you were given around for a bit. That was at least until you accidentally grazed tree with it and the whole thing exploded, sending a hail of splinters straight into your face. After that you VERY carefully tucked the dagger into your loincloth and spent the rest of the time until nightfall painfully picking the splinters out.

Taking not of the sufficient level of darkness you leave the cover of the forest towards the small villager where maidens lie. You find the village being very sparsely guarded which is good for your needs. Usually there would be more guards hanging about ready to spear any goblins trying to steal crops or women, but outside of two or three guards groggily complaining to themselves about "Jannies and ERP" there aren't any lookouts. You guess that the Goblin Slayer completing his job and bringing back the goblin ears for his reward probably assuaged fear of night-time intruders.

Getting onto your belly and blending in the with grass you start crawling towards the village and manage to get past the lax defenses and hop the fence meant to keep animals and (goblins) out.

Once inside you notice very few maidens to kidnap, and very little people in general given the time. But you do see a few stragglers who fit your bill...

Who do you kidnap?

>There's a grubby-looking young girl huddling in the cold with a blanket. An orphan. You have a feeling that by "Maiden" Wuhan didn't mean a literal child, but this would definitely be the easiest to capture and draw the least attention.

>A strong-looking women with short-cropped hair chopping wood behind a home. You don't know if she's a maiden but you have the feeling that this... "Tomboy" isn't popular with men for some reason. She'll definitely put up a fight.

>A pretty girl who just said goodbye to a man at the tavern and is strolling back home happily. Probably not a virgin, but she fulfill at least half of the requirements of being a Maiden. Being a woman. Doesn't seem like a fighter.

>>6054558
>>There's a grubby-looking young girl huddling in the cold with a blanket. An orphan. You have a feeling that by "Maiden" Wuhan didn't mean a literal child, but this would definitely be the easiest to capture and draw the least attention.

Easy road.

>>6054558
>There's a grubby-looking young girl huddling in the cold with a blanket. An orphan. You have a feeling that by "Maiden" Wuhan didn't mean a literal child, but this would definitely be the easiest to capture and draw the least attention.

>>6054558
>>A strong-looking women with short-cropped hair chopping wood behind a home. You don't know if she's a maiden but you have the feeling that this... "Tomboy" isn't popular with men for some reason. She'll definitely put up a fight.

Our new friend seems like a man of refined taste

>>6054558
>here's a grubby-looking young girl huddling in the cold with a blanket. An orphan. You have a feeling that by "Maiden" Wuhan didn't mean a literal child, but this would definitely be the easiest to capture and draw the least attention.

>>6054558
The tomboy is cute and I love tomboys, but a drunken Harlot would make good comedic relief

>>6054558
Nah, save the tomboy for later, lets do
>There's a grubby-looking young girl huddling in the cold with a blanket

>>6054558
>There's a grubby-looking young girl huddling in the cold with a blanket. An orphan. You have a feeling that by "Maiden" Wuhan didn't mean a literal child, but this would definitely be the easiest to capture and draw the least attention.
We are an average goblin with a terrifying dagger and no skill whatsoever to use it. Let's not take any risks.

File: StyxMasterOfYinFemboys.jpg (123 KB, 1280x720)

123 KB JPG

>Grubby-looking young girl

You creep over to a nearby hay stack and dive into it for a hiding spot near the girl.

The young-girl is the easiest option to kidnap and to a goblin easiest is synonymous to best. You spend a few more minutes stealthily watching the girl to see if she has anyone watching over her and to kill time until it gets even darker out until no other humans are roaming about.

After a few tense minutes keeping as still as possible in the hay with one eye on the girl. Most of the villagers have put a cloth over their lanterns and extinguished their fireplaces. The village is truly empty except for you and the sniffling little girl. Your goblin eyes adjust quickly to dark the and you sneak until your right next to the girl and can smell her humie stink.

"M-mommy. I want to go home."

The girl starts crying to herself and you almost think she caught on to you until you realize that it's just her weak humie emotions causing the waterworks.

You're not really sure how to kidnap her since your clan's typical kidnapping routine was a group endeavor where a couple goblins would snatch a vulnerable women and carry them of screaming into the night.

How do you kidnap her?

>Offer her delectable goblin snacks such as rat eyeballs or dungshrooms to lure her back to the cabin
>Threaten her with the knife
>Bash her unconscious with a rock and then bring her back
>Offer her a home or something.
>Write in

>>6055300
>Offer her a home or something
>Offer her delectable goblin snacks such as rat eyeballs or dungshrooms to lure her back to the cabin
We're adopting her, I guess. Well, until our new shifu sacrifices her to dark powers. Sad.

>>6055339
+1

>>6055300
While bashing her with a rock would be easy, it could kill her
>Offer her a home

>>6055339
+1

>QM wanted to write a comedy
>first quest is Human Sacrifice
>anons upgrade it to Child Sacrifice
>darker by the minute

>>6055443
Blood arts are blood arts. When a cultivator (although this is leaning more wuxia than xianxia) can snap their fingers and obliterate hundreds of mortals in an instant they tend to lose sight about the value of human life.

You guys did pick the Heavenly Demon after all.

>>6055455
We shall become a sword maniac goblin

>>6055300
>Offer her delectable goblin snacks such as rat eyeballs or dungshrooms to lure her back to the cabin

File: 1463992366368.png (208 KB, 557x605)

208 KB PNG

>>6055455
QM did nothing wrong.

>>6055300
>Offer her a home or something.

"If you follow us, after this night you'll never feel hungry or cold again."

File: This kids fucking retarded.jpg (84 KB, 714x900)

84 KB JPG

>Home and Snacks

If you've learnt anything from your years of kidnapping and being a general menace to anything that's not green and ugly. It is that humans are strangely emotional and sentimental. You need two hands and one foot to count how many times a human captive would cry out "they have a family" or "they have children." Some goblins would jeer cruelly at them and laugh at the outbursts, but you were mostly confused by them. When one of you goblin pals died all it meant was that there was less competition for the scraps of food you had to fight for. Even when your clan was wiped out all you could feel was a dull anger at the humans doing this to you; not any sort of grief or loss about the comrades you had known your entire life.

However, while you may not understand it, this child certainly does if her pathetic cries are anything to go off of.

Toeing out of the haystack you were hiding in, you stealthily approach the girl until she can feel your hot stinky breath right in her face.

"Yu'z want a home? Eef you follow'z uz, you'z belly will never grumblez agin."

After that stunning display of eloquence the small girl ceases her shuddering and crying to look (slightly) up at you in shock. Her green eyes go wide and seem to bore right into your (probably green) soul.

You stutter slightly while trying to entice her further and to prevent any screams for help.

"I-i haz treatz for u'z like eyeballz on uh stick, and'z dungshroom"

The girls eyes stop meeting yours and she shyly looks at the ground before speaking.

"On a stick? Is it like a lollipop? My mom would sometimes bring a lollipop home when she had a good day at the market," she starts sniffling again and you're afraid she'll start crying again and possibly draw the attention of more humans. But she puts on a brave face and holds the tears in her eyes.

"You promise you'll give me a home?"

Seizing your opportunity you start cackling to yourself a little while tricking the girl.

"Yesh! Big home and good snackz! Rat eyeball just likez a lollipoop. So tastyz and gooey. I bitez and it explodez in my mouth!"

Somehow your exclamation seems to convince her and she puts her small hand in yours and lets you lead her out of the village.

>Roll me 1d100 to escape the Village with her.

You choose the easiest option and she's going willingly so it's Bo3.

Rolled 58 (1d100)

>>6056190

Rolled 89 (1d100)

>>6056190
Witness the power of this young master!

Rolled 49 (1d100)

>>6056190
Surely I can't mess this up.

Rolled 3 (1d100)

>>6056190
Im rolling just for fun

Sorry for the delay guys. Broke my ankle bouldering and don't feel like updating today. Expect one tomorrow.

File: 1696354099085546 OIG (2).jpg (109 KB, 1024x1024)

109 KB JPG

>>6056847
No rush.

>>6056847
The curse is at it again

>>6056847
Mind sharing some details about goblin bro in the meanwhile? Nothing eloquent, just if he has any unique traits. Might draw him while you’re resting. Don’t forget to elevate your ankle.

>>6056847
I hope you heal up quickly and completely, QM.

>>6056847
I hate the curse. I wish you well, QM.

Someone should write an update to inspire qm to continue.

>>6064620
he aint here, else he would have posted
also
>someone
go ahead anon, stage is yours

>>6064997
ladies first

>>6065016
after you then

File: 1696169491501256 _1459caf(...).jpg (229 KB, 1024x1024)

229 KB JPG

>>6064620
>annoy the QM into continuing

>>6056195
>89 vs DC 15

>>6056190
The prospect of food in the company of a friendly face buoys the brat's spirits immediately. In a little while she's humming tunelessly. A little while more she's singing about "poor little anty, can't find his mommy, sleepy sleepy on the weepwood tree."

You hum along and show her teeth, with that upward turn of the sides of the mouth more usual when you're sucking out a nice marrow. This keeps her singing, which is useful because she's not asking anything, so you don't need to make up lies (it's hard!), but it's so SO annoying!

She doesn't have a lot of breath, so she stops from time to time, but the humming continues, and two breaths later, so does the song.

¶"I have gay shawl, crotchet green and white"

¶"Peony, Peony, gather in the dews"

¶"Milky born is the whoreson's wife"

That last one you liked, talked about warts like grapes growing on his knob, but oh the rest! So yukky and weak and blehh! And she doesn't run out! How many of these does she know??

To stem the flood of this nauseating stuff you start teaching her a few good ol goblin stuff, from your own grubling days.

Songs about diggen an eaten an fightin an killin, and lots lots of raypen and fuggen in between to keep things interesting.

She picks up the words easy enough; they're simple, 's how you know they're good. But she complains a that they're so boring, they only have four sounds (notes she means, but neither you nor her know what "notes" are), and they don't skip, and they don't rhyme, and theyre always bum-bom, bum-bom, bum-bum-bom.

Naturally you defend your choices, a little offended: theys goody songs they are. Good to dig with, good to march with, maybe no fight with because you want your breath, but plenty good for raypen and fuggen. Plup-plup, plup-plup, plup-plup-plup. It's good! It's natural!

The brat disagrees by digging her heels and tearing.

"No! I wanna sing nicer things! No wanna sing your boring songs!"

You make the mistake of telling her that SHE'S a dumdum head, and HER songs are stupid, and she sits down and cries.

Your goblin instincts kick in and your wits wake up. You're still too near to the human roads, you're alone, and dragging her this bawling and screaming you'll be found before morning. The peasants might have DOGS.

Yes you have this dangerous knife from your new Teacher, but still, DOGS.

You lie through your teeth, your eyes, your ears, and your goblin hole: you're sorry (no), shes right (NO), let's keep singing her songs (GEHHH), if we hurry there might still be some mousemeat stews and caasen gum paddies waiting, num num! (STUPID STUPID HUMAN)

She stops crying but looks a little owlishly at you, and you wonder if one of her distant grandkin might be a goblin, and the instincts are kicking in.

"You sing with me," she says, with a happy cunning.
"Waaat?"
"Sing with me or I'm not going! Sing! Peony! Peony! Gathering the dews!"
"gnehhhh...Ho-o-ow
[CONT]

>>6065476

give me 2hrs I'm travelling

>>6065476
"-ow did that motherless whoreson, bag the village belle? A virgin pure and milky white, instead of a rot-out slut-"
"NO! Peony! Sing Peonies!"
"P-rrrrrh! Pee on me! Pee on me! I'mma batta spew!" you bawl. She's not minding the words are a little off, because you're singing so loud and showing all your teeth.
"Yaaay! ¶ Getting fat and purple, until you're full in bloom!"
"Gargle fatty gargle, breathe in me yellow fumes!"
"¶ Color 'round the grave stone, life from our the gloom!"
"Bugger 'im an' ard one, like he's got a womb."

It takes almost till morning for you to get back to your new Teacher. Uille, the girl, had to keep stopping. She had not eaten some days; walking through the night was simply too much. Teacher needed her alive, so you want her alive. You had to find water on the way because she drank all of yours, and some food, while she rested. You managed to get some wild spelt like humans eat, some eweberries that travellers carried as a jam sometimes, a few grubbers. The wild spelt could be rubbed from their husks between stones, but she was too weak, so you did it, grumbling, while she ate the eweberries. Those were sourish, which she didn't like, but they were food. When you offered to mash some grubbers into the eweberries to make them nice and fatty she stopped complaining and ate the eweberries as they were. You eat the grubbers yourself, smacking your lips and burping, to show her what she's missing.

When the last rest was over it was near first light. You prodded her to get up, but she just swatted your finger away and rolled to one side, her back facing you.

She's asleep. Trying to wake her just brought more mewling and kicking, so you carried her the last two hours pigaback, away from the sunrise.

***

You're finally back at the cabin. THAT was a trudge. At least she was just a bag of bones, not a full grown woman. Pity you can't eat or plup her; Teach said he wanted virgins. Maybe afterwards.

"Teach! Ey Teach! I got one!"
Teach is seated in the middle of the floor, with a crushed viper in his hand, and a cold mist rising off him. The part of the wood plank floor just under him seems dustier, rottier. There's blood on the floor now from the viper. Squiggles in a circle, in a long winding coil, like a very good shit. You recognize the writing.

"Thaz's writing! I thinks. Ainit Teach?"
He comes out of his trance with a sigh. The white mist goes back to his body as if through his pores.
"Even if I am a Heterodox among Heterodoxes, and your Teacher only by forced oath and circumstances, that is no way to talk. You are my Tudi (disciple); address me as Yang Shifu, or Shifu." So he's given you a name! Toady!And he lets you call him Young Seafood! That's good isn't it? That means he likes you! You are making progress! Soon you will learn his magic, and THEN-
"What have you brought your Shifu, Tudi?"

>>6065517
You hasten to answer him. You smack both your cheeks to remember what it was you were supposed to give him.
"Eh, ah, uhhh... ah, yah! I brought Seafood a woman-child! A virgin!"
You hup the sleeping grubling and lay her in front of him, careful not to muss up Seafood's squigglies.

There is a long quiet while he takes in the enormity of your success. He seems to swell a little, and his face goes so red a little blood comes out of one nostril. He's happy! Or horny, some humans turn red when horny. But that's good right? All the same you inch backwards a little, out of his reach. You're pretty sure who's what goes where when a Teacher and Student do a buggering.

At length Seafood's slight swelling goes down, as does the color of his cheeks, turning chalk white. He looks very unhealthy.

"You fool of a Tudi. I gave you the Heavenly Evil Storing Pouch to collect blood. What is your jinxed Sifu going to do with the cupful contained in this little whore? Barely enough to write One's Great Name! Feih."

He reaches out a hand, a finger, and before your eyes a long black fingernail grew out of it, blacker than shoe-iron, black like blood, slowly, until it touched the girl on the thigh. The fingernail seemed to grow a ... mouth (?).... and it nips her a little, just enough to make a cut of pink. She moans, jostles, doesn't wake. The black fingernail retracts, still slow, but quicker than it grew. He inhales, smacks his lips thoughtfully. Manages a sneer.

"Still a virgin, at least. There should be no Heterodox practitioners in this region. Or at least, no weak ones..."

He sits contemplating some moments. While he does he absently asks you if you still had the Heavenly Stabbing Dagger.

You bring it out, scabbard and all. You unsheathe it, point first towards him; that's the only way to hold a knife while running or doing anything else, after all. He takes one glance at the blade... and flies into a froth of rage!

"Fool of a Tudi! Imbecile! Cretin! You! You-!!"
He tries to contain himself. The red is coming back to his face. And now not just one trickle of black red was coming out of a nostril, but both nostrils. A little even at the corner of his eyes. You begin to understand he's not happy or horny, but angry.

He vomits a gout of blood, and quickly pokes himself on the chest several times in several places. You fetch him a smaller drawer out of the shit drawer, a clean one, for him to puke into. He waves it away. He turns white again by stages, this time almost the color of milk. You vaguely wonder if he is a virgin.

He says dully. He can't even look at you.
"I killed a Veridic Qilin for that Paragon Core; the Nine Suns Temple for the Vital Vein; I suffered under Ao Le twenty years for the formulae, and Ao Ye seventy years for the use of his Manifold Forge. What did you do to it?"

"Errh. I, er. Cut. A tree?"

He successfully contains himself this time. Or maybe he's running out of blood.

File: 1696617074131455 the univ(...).jpg (283 KB, 1024x1024)

283 KB JPG

>>6065548
"That Dagger had enough power at a strike to pierce a Grandmaster through the face of his sword. Even YunYue the Hunchback would have been hard pressed to turn one blow aside. I gave you something so easy to use, so powerful, but you used it all up, entirely exhausted the Paragon Core beyond recovery, in one. Careless. Blow..." The contemplating look is on his face again. Now he's looking at you.

"Tudi. Come here."

You...shake your head. You try to inch back more, make your legs stand just wide enough to turn and sprint...but you can't. Eh?

Seafood's hand is on the ground, on his wrigglies. You've smudged some of it after all, and now it's holding you fast. Not really "hold", like glue, but your body's gone stupid. Or your brain. You can't tell anything to move. Or nothing knows how to move.

"Come. Here!" Seafood slaps the ground with a bloody hand, and you are dragged through the air into his grasp. All his fingernails are black.

What does your Seafood say? [REWARD]

>"You have no Vital Veins, and no Essential Furnace, but the Vital Well overflows throughout your Visceral Cauldron! With work and training to cultivate an artificial Numinous Channel and Effulgent Channel, you can equal a one-a-thousand-year prodigy in terms of mystic arts within a hundred years! (Mystic Cultivator)

>"Your skin is naturally verid, Wood, yet unremitting virility beneath, Fire! Your grist is Metal, tough, yet your brains, Water, thoughtless! This form you have is suited to all forms of Purification, Accumulation, and Transcendent Material Refinement! And! You in particular, your Five Elemental Constituents are all represented in perfect alignment! You can refine Ores, Pills, Cures and Poisons without suffering corruption, or corrupting the crucible! Marvelous, truly marvelous! (Alchemic Cultivator)

>"A perfect synchronicity of nerve and bone! And your blood! This rich, heavy red! Laden iron, as though you have been fed aurochs bulls, and daily toiled heaving stone pillars! And your proportions! Manlike, upright with four limbs and five senses, to flash the sword, yet in a moment you fall to fours, you are a dog bearing a sickle, uncatcheable! Light and spry as an antelope, yet supple muscle throughout, as an eel! You are capable of learning all manner of war-arts, Man, Beast, Ghost, and Ghast. Perfected, you can bare your teeth against Heaven, and none will step forth out! (Martial Cultivator)

>>6065019
>>6065016
>>6064997
>>6064620
good evening good fellows. I will be your Temp QM for tonight.

>>6056190
Dear QM, get well soon.

>>6065571

>"A perfect synchronicity of nerve and bone! And your blood! This rich, heavy red! Laden iron, as though you have been fed aurochs bulls, and daily toiled heaving stone pillars! And your proportions! Manlike, upright with four limbs and five senses, to flash the sword, yet in a moment you fall to fours, you are a dog bearing a sickle, uncatcheable! Light and spry as an antelope, yet supple muscle throughout, as an eel! You are capable of learning all manner of war-arts, Man, Beast, Ghost, and Ghast. Perfected, you can bare your teeth against Heaven, and none will step forth out! (Martial Cultivator)

Good luck temporary qm

>>6065571
>Martial Cultivator
Oh shit, we're back!

File: 1700615313693189 16905497(...).jpg (117 KB, 1024x1024)

117 KB JPG

>>6065811
not really really, I'm just temp QM.

we are so back boys.

>>6065571
>>"A perfect synchronicity of nerve and bone! And your blood! This rich, heavy red! Laden iron, as though you have been fed aurochs bulls, and daily toiled heaving stone pillars! And your proportions! Manlike, upright with four limbs and five senses, to flash the sword, yet in a moment you fall to fours, you are a dog bearing a sickle, uncatcheable! Light and spry as an antelope, yet supple muscle throughout, as an eel! You are capable of learning all manner of war-arts, Man, Beast, Ghost, and Ghast. Perfected, you can bare your teeth against Heaven, and none will step forth out! (Martial Cultivator)


YEAH

PHYSICAL CULTIVATION! WHO NEEDS QI!

>>6066100
The old QM is 100% not coming back, embrace your new role, please

File: th-40.jpg (24 KB, 400x578)

24 KB JPG

>>6066103
>>6065811
>>6065603

The majority of survivors have spoken.

>YAAAAAAS!!!!
>WE A GROTTY GREENY GOD OF WAAAGH!!!!!

WRITAN!

I commute like 15 hours a day to earn my pittance, so I will be a phoneposting heathen the whole time. If I miss details from OP or lose my own plot points, call me out. Tally ho lads.

File: 1696147275158097 OIG (12).jpg (139 KB, 1024x1024)

139 KB JPG

>>6065603
>>6065811
>>6066103
>>6066131

>>6065019
>>6065016
>>6064997
>>6064620

Your Seafood lets you go, somewhat roughly and carelessly, but you land on both feet easily. You're mussing up the squiggles even more, and the blood soaks through the bottoms of your sacky shoes. But not you can move. Huh. Weird.

And slowly what Seafood said about you sinks in, and your grin begins as you start to get it. You're gobben STRONG! Or you can be, later, but REALLY STRONG! Strong enough to be Chief! Strong enough to eat lots and lots, and lotsa fights and fuggens in between! And did your Seafood say you can fight Heaven? That you can fight GODS??? You think of all the Humie and Skinny Pointy and Axebeard and Furfoot goddesses that you will be raypen over and over, and just lose it!

"GNAAHH HAHA! YAAAS!!!" you cry, and start jumping, springing, trumbling, running, punching and clawing in all directions from joy. Your Seafood watches you, the teeth in his sneer slowly disappearing. Now it's just a sneer. Could be he sees a lot of himself in you; or enough of himself, at least! He is your Seafood, and strong plenty plenty, but still a Humie. The Weak Races can't stop being weak, for some reason, even one as old and strong as your Seafood.

You could have gone on a full hour prancing and whooping before needing to num something, but your Seafood loses interest in watching you after a minute. He slaps his hand on the ground and, like you just now, Uille sails through the air into his grasp.

He looks at her face, her body, turning her this way and that, just like he did you.

Then without indication, face impassive but for the sneer, he sinks all ten fingernails into her nape and neck, drawing no blood. She doesn't even have the time (or strength) to scream.

You stop your one-gobber hullabaloo to look properly at what's happening, watching with your eyes wide. All the Weak Races usually turn their faces away when there's death, or disease, or violence, especially if they're not the Fighty Ones (heroes). Not you, and not any gobber: turning your eyes away from death IS death; turning your eyes away from violence means YOU next. That is why you are the Strong Race, and the rest are Weak!

The cold mist rises from your Seafood, and he seems to turn a different...shade? substance? He looks like stone now! Even his weird clothes! And Uille, as your Seafood's cold mist covers and begins to sink into her, goes pale as cheese paper, even HER clothes. It's... weird. She doesn't look as unhealthy as your Seafood, but it's the same kind of sick, you think. Only Skinny Pointies look this pale, and only very very sometimes.

Your Seafood's stone body puts down its hands and starts to sink into the ground, the weakened plank floors giving way. You hesitate only for a second, okay four seconds, before you pounce to help and start scrabbling, trying to push it, topple it to the side so it stops sinking.

It's not working! It's up to the neck now! Fugg! Fugggg!!

CONT

>>6066163
"SEAFOOD! SEAFOOD! WAKES UP YOU SINKING! SEAFOOD!" you cry. Bad! Bad! This is bad! Your Seafood has turned to stone and is sinking into the ground, and he hasn't taught you anything yet!

All of a sudden his stone eyes fly open, and pure red eyes like shattered rubies flash at you, the wash of murderous intent and voracious malice so sudden and complete that your choke grip on his neck slips, and the last of him shoots into the ground with a deep thud, the displaced sandy soil flowing backwards, filling it in.

You start scrabbling immediately, panicking, not thinking, digging with your claws and toes. Uille raps you on the top of your head with her knuckles from behind.

"Idiot Tudi. I'm here."

You flinch and spin around, angry. That little bitch's knuckles HARD!

But the ancient sneer on her little face, and the beetle-black fingernails (and toenails; her shoes had frayed open) give you room for pause.

"Seafood?"

He doesn't heed you except for a slight deepening of his smirk. He flexes his fingers, looks at them back and front. Moves the head and neck, turning the head sideways almost to the back, then backwards, very nearly, until you can hear the grinding of the soft bones in her neck. When his head is back the right way he's grinning, wide as a goblin.

"Ahhh. For war-arts whether Hard or Soft, the best time to start is young!"

He gets vigorous after this. His arms, circling front and back, like windmills. He lifts a foot, slowly, poised on the other, and reaches the top of his head with the toes; repeats with the other foot, but then he brings down that foot hard, the momentum spinning him twice in a forward full length somersault, and he lands on one foot again, the knee of the other leg drawn to his chest, the fore and middle fingers of his left fist straightened, pointing upwards to the underside of his (her? fugg. is Seafood still a rayper or not?) chin, while his right hand is -

is. uhh.

He snaps his right hand back from under YOUR chin, the fore and middle finger of that hand up to the second segment of both fingers with YOUR blood. The sneer has contempt in it now, but it's not personal. You understand it even: it's a hatred of weakness, a hatred of stupid. You hold Seafood's gaze while he tastes your blood. Both eyes wide open, as before. You hold your neck too, of course, to stop the blood, but you hold his gaze too. YOU are not weak, even if your meat is. Even if he kills you, even if you die, you are STRONG.

Seafood almost says something, but changes his mind. He breaks his gaze first. You thin you have impressed him, even if a very little bit.

"Idiot Tudi, listen well. This body will last seven sevens, 49 days, before the Soul Well collapses and my Spirit dissipates. I need fresh blood in living quantity, equal in virile vitality to 112 ADULT -" his eyes flash shattered rubies again at you, pointedly, "Men. I mean Humans, not necessarily male, virgin or not. I will collect it myself; watch and learn, idiot."

File: 1697011030544613 16733863(...).jpg (139 KB, 1024x1024)

139 KB JPG

>>6066186
He snaps his bloodied fingers in the air, points at your belt rope and jerks his arm back like he's pulling a fish on a line.

The Porty Hole he gave you earlier to collect blood in flies to his hand.

"Hey!! Thas mine!"

"It was. Now it's mine again. If you want it back, fight me. Or are you as bad at that as you are at understanding simple instructions?" You get angry, but hesitate. Even if he is in a little girl's body, Seafood is more dangerous than dangerous. His magic is like nothing you have ever seen from any Fighty One. Fighty Ones magic usually had fire, bright lights and things, noisy and painful. But Seafood's magic is so quiet and casual, noiseless even, no chants, no hand dances, but then it surges and snaps! So slowly but unexpected that it's too fast, too late! Like, like, like a crocodile!

You're not fighting THAT! (Not up front! You're not fuggen stupid!)

But he draws a circle around himself with a toe. Looks at you. Beckons.

"What? Come!"

You read his sneer and understand: he WANTS you to fight, to test you. You remember that he did swear he wouldn't harm you; or cause you what he considers harm, at least.

Welp! He asked for it! Asked for realsies!

So you fly at at him, all out. The Sky Pokey Dagger never left your hand this whole time. There's no zapzap in it now, but a knife's a knife, and this one's plenty sharp.

>GNYAAAAR!!

You start with a down-grip, so that your weight comes down with it towards his face as you leap.

He doesn't really move, just puts one leg back, turning sharply at the last moment. Your dagger's plunge towards his face misses, as does the follow-up groin-gutter you turn it into before your momentum carries you past.

Your two feet touch the ground, and one palm, skidding as you turn.

He parts his lips to offer you more insult, but you're flying at him again, still on the same breath, your Dagger's down-grip switched to an up-grip at your side. Not the face this time! The body! The hearty guts!

He's not moving; you force yourself faster, give him no chance to change his mind. The Dagger goes at his belly, straight thrust with your running weight, ready to lever and twist in his bowels the moment you're through his skin!

But he bends at the waist backwards, balanced on his heels! Bends impossibly, without touching you! You push your feet, furthering your thrust full stretch, all the way in; his feet leave the ground, and he makes a floating somersault over you! The same one he used earlier, with the feets to the head!

But you're not fuggen done! The forward stab converts, pointing upwards just as you skid, stop, and launch! Up!

You put everything you have into your whole body, faster than fast, your signature Up Butty Super Poke! It almost catches Seafood by surprise: the tip of the Dagger nearly reaches his belly. He is forced to put a hand out, touching you lightly on the daggerhand (so lightly!) and he drifts away from your trajectory, languid as a leaf. You missed again!

File: 1700532850948470 f8d66a88(...).jpg (632 KB, 1024x1024)

632 KB JPG

>>6066250
>UARRRRR-!

You charge again! You don't remember why you cared about not fighting him! Now you're PIZZED and he's FUGGED! You WANT him!!!

"Stop. I've seen enough. Stop, I said!" But you don't! Nothing's stopping you now! You gonna cut him an gut him an eat his fuggen EYES-!

There's a big thud right in your belly, stopping you right in your tracks, and another, same place, and you piss and shit yourself.

You got kicked by a fleeing horse once; this was like that, but with both hooves, and twice.

You crumble kneeling, both hands flat on the ground. It takes everything you have left not to collapse. You're not sure the stuff running down your chin is blood or snot; your eyes are almost fully shut and won't stop watering.

Another pebble, with a lot less force, about the same as a determined elbow, knouts you on the forehead. Seafood pulls up a chair, backrest and one leg broken, and lounges on it against a wall.

"You wish to die this early? Maybe in three hundred years I might take you on halfhearted!"

He laughs, shrill instead of booming from the little girl's chest. He makes to stroke his face before realizing he doesn't have a beard anymore. He caresses his lips instead, thoughtfully.

[TWO DECISIONS TO MAKE]

What does your Seafood say to you?

[SKILL UP DECISION]
>"For you there are no Muscle Groups or Limbs, but your body is fully in Unity. No movement is separate, but all one. Thus your strength is thrice your weight, all effort with no waste. The Mad Naga Descendent Form is ideal for you. [Strength based checks and melee damage +3; all DC/100]

>"Your body flies as fast as your senses, with no leave between Think and Done. So you change direction midstep and midair, thrice crossing a courtyard in one breath. The Flenser Mantis Form is ideal for you. [Agility based checks and melee hit / melee dodge chance +3]

>"You are vicious and tenacious, unthinking and unfeeling in pursuit of prey. When you pierce you gouge, and every slash made sees blood twice. The Thousand Segment Carrionpede Form is ideal for you. [melee hit chance and melee damage +4]


[QUEST DECISION]

Seafood continues.

"You will need a better lair to train, and I to cultivate and recoup. None of my defenses work well here, and you have wasted enough time for that little cup of blood. We leave here immediately.

"I will teach you a little of herbs as we go, and the foundations of the Form, but before long I must have blood, or this body will decay, even before the Soul Well fails. Blood, Tudi! Wasted red in seas and rivers, worth 112 living Men! Beasts or men or your own sort, I care not, but living red and fresh! Tudi, whereof near shall this be found?"

What do you tell your Seafood?

>Easy! The Fisheye Hamlet! An arched cliff over a shadowed bay! [~200 pop, worth 120 Living Men]
>Pffft! The Muckies of course! The Bayou Caves! [Several rival goblin tribes, ~40-80 each; worth 180-420 LM]
>Nuffzed! The Wars! It keeps moven though... [300-800 LM; no shelter]

>>6066280
more options for [QUEST DECISION] incoming

pls hold

File: 1696208958890047 IMG_2653.jpg (254 KB, 1024x1024)

254 KB JPG

>>6066280
[QUEST OPTIONS REPOSTED AND UPDATED]
Easy! The Fisheye Hamlet! An arched cliff over a shadowed bay! [~200 pop, worth 120 Living Men. Secluded and scenic. But you expect to move when the Weak Races discover a whole village died of nothing in particular.]
>Pffft! The Muckies of course! The Bayou Caves! [Several rival goblin tribes, ~40-80 each; worth 180-420 LM. You get to wipe out the Red Mucks, the Blu Mucks, the Sloppas, the Boneheads, all at once become Chief over the survivers, and Seafood gets a surge of power from that all strong gobblin blood! But there's beasties there too. Big ones...]
>Nuffzed! The Wars! It keeps moven though... [300-800 LM; lotsa all kinds of races, and not all Weak. Lotsa fighten, but little food and fuggens, no shelter, no rest. Seafood will absolutely get strong, but a good chance of getting noticed.]
>nerhh. The Plague Town? 'S quiet though. A Bad Magic happened, I thinks. [~80 LM; should be safe for a good long while, helps Seafood understand the magic of this land a lot better]
>Ooh! Ooh! Fighter Town, at the crossroads after Bad Farting! There's markets and circuses and brothels and everything! [~500 LM in all, but a significant number of strong Fighty Ones, in groups. Be careful.]

Picrel: Seafood, Yang Wuhan, 殃污琀, "Calamity-Corrupted Corpse-pearl

File: 1696647484380027 drawingh(...).jpg (469 KB, 1024x1024)

469 KB JPG

>>6066290
trip test

>>6066302
>"You are vicious and tenacious, unthinking and unfeeling in pursuit of prey. When you pierce you gouge, and every slash made sees blood twice. The Thousand Segment Carrionpede Form is ideal for you. [melee hit chance and melee damage +4]

>nerhh. The Plague Town? 'S quiet though. A Bad Magic happened, I thinks. [~80 LM; should be safe for a good long while, helps Seafood understand the magic of this land a lot better]

>>6066280


>"You are vicious and tenacious, unthinking and unfeeling in pursuit of prey. When you pierce you gouge, and every slash made sees blood twice. The Thousand Segment Carrionpede Form is ideal for you. [melee hit chance and melee damage +4]

>Pffft! The Muckies of course! The Bayou Caves! [Several rival goblin tribes, ~40-80 each; worth 180-420 LM]

>>6066280
>The Thousand Segment Carrionpede Form is ideal for you

>>6066302
>The Plague Town

File: 1699645208384987 _310faea(...).jpg (225 KB, 1024x1024)

225 KB JPG

>>6066442
>>6066448
>>6066479
will be sleeping now.

Vote call and writan will most likely start in 10 hours of this post.

Good night, good fellows.

File: 1696143485412431 16948349(...).jpg (303 KB, 1024x1024)

303 KB JPG

>>6066442
>>6066448
>>6066479
>Learn Thousand Segment Carrionpede Form 3/3, picrel
>Head for Plague Town 2/3

Your Shifu sets out immediately without looking back and you have to follow, clutching yourself, slopping piss and shit in a trail as you go. It doesn't seem as if anything's broken inside, but it's still awful to try to walk. You're going to check later if there's blood when you pee.

You pick up the crushed viper your Seafood used to squiggle from the floor as an afterthought. You hadn't eaten or drank anything near enough for the past day, and nothing at all since moon-drop (~3am), and it's half-sun (10am) now. Even with the pain in your belly you remember you are famished; you won't last to sun-drop (6pm) on the march without food. Goblins have always left the weak behind, and your Seafood seems like he would do the same.

Scalies you prefer to cook first and strip the hard scratchy top skin from the undermeat before eating, but Seafood's still going, and meat's meat. You put it in your mouth, and bite off a hard mouthful. Your life is tough to bite, yucks to eat, just like this scaley meat! So little nice foods! So few fuggens! So bitter, your lot in life! So... sour? And...itchydry-yburny?

>EB BLEHHHH
>GAAAK NGAAK
>PUEKH PUEKHH

You look at it! The snake meat! It looks nothing different, just a cold dead wheppet viper as you might catch in a treehole or a dead Humie's boot. Why does it taste like that!?

Your Seafood calls from the undergrowth outside, unseen. He hasn't stopped moving since you described and pointed out the direction of Plague Town.

"Gluttonous idiot! Don't eat everything you find in an Immortal's lair! Determine everything you put in your body! As you are now, flesh that is Yang-Overturned-Ying-Corrupted will disrupt your first and second vital flows! You will lose sensation in your extremities and your innards will harden! Who do you think you are? The Peerless Great ONESELF? FAHH HAHAHAHAA!!"

You fling the meat down, try to spit out saliva you don't really have to wash out the Bad Taste. Life survived means lesson learned, for a goblin 1 . You'll learn quickly, and with your Seafood's little lessons you'll learn LOTS.

Before long your Seafood stops. You've reach a village road, Humie and Furfoot tracks. The village itself is far away, but your Seafood hates the midday sun. You don't much like the sun either, it's too stabby on the eyes, but for once it's useful to you: your Seafood stopping means you get to stop. At least you can nurse your hurts a little and self-pity in peace.

Your belly has gone all bruised from the two deep thumps your Seafood gave you, and the knout to your forehead has come up a tender bump. Owch.

"Seafood. How'd you hits me? Jez now. You wuz onna ground, far on there, but you hits me. How?"

1: Goblinslayer lore. Gobs that survive bad things get worse

File: 1000084568.png (1.2 MB, 1061x1141)

1.2 MB PNG

>>6066912
"The charm on the floor I drew is the Room Possessor Phantom. I did not hit you; the rocks on the ground hit you. Your dear Shifu only does you good! Is my benevolence to be repaid in slander? Haiii!"

You think it over. And over. He's right, but... not?

"But, but, errehh, YOU drew the squiggles Seafood. YOU know how to use them. Who else is there?"

He smirks, doesn't deign to look your way. He's fanning himself with a broad palm leaf that he had ripped out before plopping in the grassy shade.

"How should I know? I'm just a harmless idiot servant girl. It might have been a thief. Or a ghost. Or maybe it's your own ill-luck that hit you. Who else indeed."

You nurse your belly but you think. You think. Yeh. Yehhh. Seafood's right. He's probably the one who did it. There really is no one else who can use the squiggles, and no one else in the cabin. But he'll never admit it, and you'll never prove it. The Weak Races always need to find out and know things to the end before they do harm in return for harm, but where's the sense in that? Rather, if they insist on being weak, indulge them! Pretend to be weak yourself! Pretend to be incapable of harm! They want to believe everyone is weak as they are, and you want to cause as much harm for as long as possible! This way, both sides get what they want, and everybody (left) gets to be happy!

Apropos of nothing your Seafood speaks, as if to himself, but really it is to you.

"Pity that little green bedbug doesnt have the spiritual niceness for mystical disciplines. I could have taught him a mountain of things like this! But it's all Fate. Fate! Some invent more than everyone has learned, and some learn only that they cannot learn! Beeheheee!"

Ooh you want to hit him now, hearing talk like that, but you see his eyes, the little girl Uille's brown hazels, are open a gleam, no wider than an eyelash, and looking right at you. You make no move to throw some mud in his mouth, and after a while the gleam shuts, satisfied.

This too is a lesson: annoyance and provocations are WEAPONS, attacks without violence. What is an insult? A word, a puff of air, but it can get people angry, make them stop thinking, make them run right into a trap or attack you prepared. Make them strike first and lose potential; make their strike an excuse for you to strike BACK! Justified! With bloody interest!

Seafood already did it to you once in the cabin, but only now you realize the lesson. Seafood's fuggen GREAT!

"That big green cockroach did startle me from the circle I drew. Who knew cockroaches could fly and dart like that. Lucky for me it wasn't a Carrionpede! A Carrionpede would have kept close to the ground, limbs and extremities spread yet bent, and if I stayed still it would have followed the ground up to my leg; if I jumped away it would scarper to where I land, unless I change direction in midair! Once it caught me, my heel and leg tendons would be cut, kidneys at the waist, then neck and face!"

>>6066939
Your Seafood keeps talking with his eyes closed about how fortune it was he did not meet a Carrionpede. Your bruises have hardened; still tender, but less constant pain. The shit and piss you hadn't cleaned off of yourself is starting to itch, but you refuse to be distracted. You take every word in, applying yourself as hard as you've ever had on anything that wasn't fuggen.

Young Seafood teaches you the essential principles of the Thousand Segment Carrionpede Form, the Hundred Year Corpse Eater (basic stance) and Eight Devouring Transformations (basic movement). You commit not just his words, but his singsong little girl voice entirely to memory. Squigglies, WRITINGS, are for weaklings, for people who can't REMEMBER. For things this IMPORTANT, goblins remember GOOD. 1

He doesn't teach you anything about causing harm using the Carrionpede yet, but probably that's because you're still too hurt to try anyway. Attacking correctly in the Form might be a little too strenuous while you're still pissing blood, and he doesn't want you to collect any bad habits this early.

>Gain +2(/4) melee hit chance, +0(/4) melee damage
>the rest to be progressively unlocked

After you're sure you've remembered all that good-good, you dare to ask your Seafood stuff. Your respect for him has grown bigly bigly. Seafood is great! Seafood is wonderful! Seafood is a big bully and bad bugghole and fuggen BIG BAD BOSS, and one day you're going to be just like him!

"Nrehhh, Big Boss-"

"What "Boss"? Yang Shifu! Is one thrashing not enough for you, cretinous Tudi? Do you need your brains beaten out to learn?? Tsss. SPEAK!"

"Nrehh. Nnn. What happened in the house? Seafood turned to stone, that was not stone. The stone opened its eyes, but it was Seafood looking! What was dat?"

"Is that all? Child's play, for the One Great I. I used a Living Fossil Pill, and the Living Burial Spell. The first will preserve living matter inert up to a hundred years; the second will sink a living body 18 chi (18 x ~13" = ~19.5') down from the surface, replace the dislodged matter above and harden the matter below 3 chi around the body. A terrible way to die, suffocating, immobile, blind and deaf, don't you think? But why are you asking? To bemoan your brainlessness? Your utter dearth of affinity for alchemy? Forget it! Just forget it! To the end of your days you will be a blind moron! Any more questions??"

1: Goblinslayer lore. Goblins are not actually stupid, but devote their keen intelligence entirely to sadism and mechavellianism. Previously forgot to mention: they are both incorrigible sadists yet default to self-pity if defeated or made to suffer; perfect solipsists.

>>6066952

"Nrh. Then, then, the cold white mist? It came up from Seafood, and then it went onto Uille-"

"Uille? That little wench?"

"Yah, the girl."

"Trust you to learn the name of a sow piglet. Go on!"

"Your cold mist went on her, and she became like a cheese paper, white like rush water, but also yellow and brittlely. And her clothes too! Wats dat?"

"The Pall to Pall Method, a little something I stole from the Dao (Way) of Ghosts and Grudges 1 ; too high for you to learn, even if you were gifted. I'm borrowing this body and overloading its Soul Well with my Self, and in seven sevens I must transfer my Self or face true death. More than that takes too much time to explain. You're not worth it."

"So so, erhh, when you transfer out of her, she will be singing again?" No, please no, please please no, please please please -

"Feh. She will be destroyed either way. I just need her body these 49 days."

Whew! That was close! You think, and think. Think. Using bodies eh? Using bodies...

"Eyy, Tea- err, Seafood! Can I use it too?"

"What?"

"Uille's body. You're just using the body, right, eh? It's not your body, and you're going to throw it away soon. So, so, can I use it too?"

He opens both eyes. You've really stumped him.

"You?? Use a Pall Body? For what?"

"For plupping. You know, to use-" you make a pumping gesture with your hips, both hands miming pulling on Uille's hips; plup-plup, plup-plup, plup-plup-plup, smiling lewdly.

Seafood gets it. He smiles too. But... not... lewdly? Oh. Ohh noo. You did it again! You did _something_, you don't know what yet, but Seafood's about to do something BACK!

His smile, one of evil happiness that you recognize as your own - like when you've cornered some rash villager, cut off her legs and about to get plupping - suddenly vanishes in a flash of anger!

He's mad again! He's furious! Or he's pretending to be. You suspect that he's been planning to do something to you ever since you brought him that weak dumb Humie bint with less meat than a drumstick. Now you're given him the excuse, an ohhh he's going to relish it! Underneath that face of black wrath is hilarious, delirious glee!

"Tudi. Come...here..."

There's no blood charm on the ground now, and you're in the open, clear running in every direction. But you step forward of your own volition anyway, into his reach.

If you ran he would catch you and thrash you, and THEN he would still do everything he's meaning to, probably with a lot more spite. There's no point making things worse for yourself, just like there's no point running from your great and terrible Seafood.

He caresses your chin, your cheek.

"Uille, wasn't it? A meaningless name for a worthless life. But I Yang Wuhan am Incarnate Charity. It pleases One to do good to the poor; to make wise the fool! Wealth for those that don't deserve! And for the hopeless wretch, POWER!!"

1: Shoutout to Merry Bloodshed, Huan LiuXue; an archived Cultivator

File: 1000084580.jpg (12 KB, 474x316)

12 KB JPG

>>6066992
He draws his fingers over your chest, running your skin with blood! Your blood!

He jabs and scratches you one-handed where you stand, squiggling on you like he did on the cabin floor, and it's all smarty, quite painful, and there's weirdness in it, his type of magic. Be blows at you in the midst of it; somehow he's conjured odorous incense out of his sleeve. It stinks weirdly, and it goes in you without you breathing.

Then you feel cold. Or, you're still warm inside, but the air chilled over and around you, settling and sticking to you somehow. It's all weird and gets weirder: you know somehow there's no shaking it off.

You are now conscious of a noise deep in your ears, almost in your head, a rising whine getting higher and louder by the second.

Suddenly it's here, its hands are on your shoulders, the freezing sharp claws digging your flesh, and a moaning scream like nothing you've ever heard goes right through you.

>aaa aa a a a A A A A A A A A A A A A

"Tudi! Behold your pure white bride! A perpetual Virgin, eternally Young! Your beautiful Ghost Wife, -!"

[TWO CHOICES AND A ROLL TO MAKE]

[CHOOSE YOUR CONSEQUENCE]

>"Ai1 Le4!" (Tragic Merriment) [She jinxes you whenever she can, so long as it doesn't involve a third party (i.e. the idea of adultery) trying to kill you. A general -1d3 penalty to all non-Combat rolls; applies to Crisis (QuickTime event) rolls as well]

>"Gui2 Li3!" (Ghostly Propriety) [You need to make time for her, without fail: every 36 waking hours you will need to devote a total of 6 waking hours to a Conjugal Performance (i.e. sex) ceremony, inclusive of building a small altar and making some symbolic sacrifices. You are definitely going to lose sleep over this. Your training progress slows by -1 per advancement, to a minimum of 1.]

>"Zui4 Lie4 (lee-yeh)!" (Guilt Hunt) [You suffer a -2 to all social interactions with Living sentient beings; somehow they will keep thinking of their moral failures when they speak to you. Interactions with any pronouncedly Evil sentient suffers an additional -2 (= -4). True Neutrals (usually beasts, plants, elementals and constructs) and Highly Lawful Good beings are not affected by this.]

>"Hui1 La4!" (Ashen Sundering) [Your mundane weapons and armor spoil quickly no matter if you keep them well or make special protectives for them. This will affect all combat equipment not good enough to be Named. Your Sky Pokey Dagger, now that it is Ruined, is susceptible.]

***

"And now, Tudi, you and your darling Bride are going out shopping. Get some supper! I want blood to go with wine! Find some!"

[CHOOSE AND ROLL FOR YOUR SUPPER]
[ALL ROLLS ARE 1D100, BEST OF 3]

>Go and scrounge something from the skirts of the village [-10 to your roll; both blood and wine, likely not a lot]

>SMASH AND GRAB RIGHT THROUGH THE STREETS FUGG THIS IM HUNGRY [-20 to your roll; BIG MEATS, BIG WINES! But, nerhhh, little more risk tho.]

>OPTIONS CONTINUE

File: 1000084571.jpg (28 KB, 474x315)

28 KB JPG

Rolled 19, 61, 61 = 141 (3d100)

>>6067039
[DINNER OPTIONS AND ROLLS CONTINUE]

>Go deeper into the woods, hunt something. It will be hard to look for fermenting plants while you're tracking something potentially dangerous, like a boar. But who knows. [-5 to roll; no wine unless you roll above 85]

>Look for grubbers and the like; vermin and small prey. You should also find fermenting plants, since you're taking your time. But you won't get too much blood meat, and Seafood will likely eat everything you get. The bugghole. You'll probably get a bite or two, but likely you're going to go hungry. [No penalty to this roll; general penalty of -4 from hunger until your next BIG meal]

>Wait for a traveller(s) near the bend on the village road. Robbem an killem an gobblem, the traditional goblin way [No penalty, maybe a little loot, but you should need to fight.]

picrel in light sepia is what Yang Wuhan looks like after using the Pall to Pall Method to supplant Uille in her own body.

roll is for {REDACTED}

File: 1000084582.jpg (24 KB, 400x535)

24 KB JPG

>>6067048
picrel the Unworldly Matrimony Seal your Seafood makes on you.

You are probably never getting this off unless a high level (~17) Lawful Good priest or paladin of the Goblinslayer world, or a Righteous Cultivator of at least the First Gold Core stage (roughly level 15 prestige sorcerer in DND terms).

Best manage your spouse properly, Husbando. You may not have domestic peace on your terms very often or for long, but domestic quiet is a reasonable expectation.

SMALL COMFORTS
The Unworldly Matrimony is not all bad. Don't print the divorce papers just yet.

HEADCANON
Additional note on Yang Wuhan: he is per my QM fiat a level 28 prestige melee+partial caster. For reference, DnD godhood begins at level 20 earliest; Yang Wuhan is more than a match for middleweights like GuanDi (redface glaive and beard guy from Dynasty Warriors) and Ganesha (Hindu mainstay), both around lvl25, unless they gang up on him.

Yang Wuhan will probably stay out of the path of heavyweight gods, like Osiris lvl33, Thor lvl34, but he can still reliably cause a lot of trouble.

As for big names like Ra lvl36, Zeus lvl40+, Odin lvl38 and Shiva lvl40++, Yang Wuhan will never dare their like. At least, unless and until he has a web of allies and attains a Heavens-Beyond-Heavens Breakthrough...

>>6067060
edit

>You are probably never getting this off unless a high level (~17) Lawful Good priest or paladin of the Goblinslayer world, or a Righteous Cultivator of at least the First Gold Core stage (roughly level ***10*** prestige sorcerer in DND terms) ...

...owes you a favor.

>>6067048
>>Look for grubbers and the like; vermin and small prey. You should also find fermenting plants, since you're taking your time. But you won't get too much blood meat, and Seafood will likely eat everything you get. The bugghole. You'll probably get a bite or two, but likely you're going to go hungry. [No penalty to this roll; general penalty of -4 from hunger until your next BIG meal]

>>6067039

>"Gui2 Li3!" (Ghostly Propriety) [You need to make time for her, without fail: every 36 waking hours you will need to devote a total of 6 waking hours to a Conjugal Performance (i.e. sex) ceremony, inclusive of building a small altar and making some symbolic sacrifices. You are definitely going to lose sleep over this. Your training progress slows by -1 per advancement, to a minimum of 1.]


>Go deeper into the woods, hunt something. It will be hard to look for fermenting plants while you're tracking something potentially dangerous, like a boar. But who knows. [-5 to roll; no wine unless you roll above 85]

>>6067039
Oh didn't see the rest of the vote

>"Gui2 Li3!" (Ghostly Propriety) [You need to make time for her, without fail: every 36 waking hours you will need to devote a total of 6 waking hours to a Conjugal Performance (i.e. sex) ceremony, inclusive of building a small altar and making some symbolic sacrifices. You are definitely going to lose sleep over this. Your training progress slows by -1 per advancement, to a minimum of 1.]


but still keeping
>>Look for grubbers and the like; vermin and small prey. You should also find fermenting plants, since you're taking your time. But you won't get too much blood meat, and Seafood will likely eat everything you get. The bugghole. You'll probably get a bite or two, but likely you're going to go hungry. [No penalty to this roll; general penalty of -4 from hunger until your next BIG meal]

Rolled 95 (1d100)

>>6067077
and the roll

>>6067078
very nice roll.

TO ALL OTHER ANONS:
This roll will still be in effect even if your majority picks a different dinner option. Pick what you really want, no need to back basedanon's choice just because he rolled like a hero.

File: 1696171118552992 _b67c458(...).jpg (79 KB, 1024x1024)

79 KB JPG

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>6067075
>>6067077

>Your Ghost Bride's Inauspicious Name is
>鬼 礼 , Gui Li, Ghostly Propriety

>Rolled 95 for supper
>Which you found

1:
>In fuggen GOOD hunting

2:
>Snouting picking and BIG LUCK grubbing


Calling the roll and writan.

File: 1698378243359339 OIG.HhBEiw.jpg (207 KB, 1024x1024)

207 KB JPG

>>6067234
While Seafood lounges in the tree shade fanning himself with a palm, gently killing the tree and the grass he's lying on, you set off into the woods for food.

When goblins hunt it's usually in groups of four or more. You get better odds coming at something from four directions, even with just thrown rocks and wood spears. You might even get a Humie, if you don't mind alerting the locals. At the worst one of you gets killed, say, fighting a babwyn (an eusocial and aggressive great ape; a chimpanboon); the rest might just snag his body, or whatever of it is left, before fleeing, so that they can laugh at him while eating his remains; so that they have the energy and morale to plan and try again. Why NOT eat the fallen? He's not feeling it, but YOU are: YOU are feeling LUCKY it wasn't you. You are feeling STRONG because you did not DIE; you are stronger than HIM, and you tomorrow will be STRONGER STILL than you TODAY.

But alone. Oh alone. There's only once chance to win, one head to lose. Alone, if you fail, it is you who are weak, and if you win, no one else will see. Alone is worst. But you are STRONG, Toady, even when alone. You are BEST because you are YOU.

Seafood wants wine and blood; there's plenty of both in the wilds if you're smart about things, patient, and not picky. You'd really rather hunt if you could, but there's no certainty in that, especially alone. If you failed, not only would you have nothing, you might be bitten, or poisoned, or gored in your attempt, you will have also failed your Seafood. No telling what he might do to you THEN, if just asking for a little plup-plup from his borrowed body resulted in THIS:

>¶¶¶¶A A A A A A A A A A A a a aa aaa...
>...aaa aa a a A A A A A A A A A A A¶¶¶¶

Her presence is SO weird, hanging on your back just screaming at you big weird-like, and she's starting to give you a kind of a headache in the eyeholes, but at least it doesn't seem to get any worse, and she doesn't bother you while you're doing your real business: sniffing and rooting for grub.

Seafood said GuiLi will keep moaning through your noggs like this, and will keep getting louder over the course of days unless you do the Conjugal Performance Ceremony, Six Times for every Thirty Six Times. You already memorized the instructions for the Ceremony because it's IMPORTANT, and as you go rooting the ground, upturning rocks and rapping for hollow trees, with half a mind you remember the additional materials you're supposed to get. Whenever you find something that might fit the bill, you put it either in your armpit or your bag with the grubs and tree sweets.

Well. What you have is not actually a bag: it's a layered pad of leaves in the middle of a green three-crooked branch, secured at the top with a bit of climbing vine. Good enough for grubs. Just stick it upright somewhere if you need to climb or swim or stalk.

Youre getting bugs steadily, steadily, but what youre looking for is small spoor and beer-plants.

File: 1000084596.jpg (1.76 MB, 1920x2559)

1.76 MB JPG

>>6067281
As you mash and roll a march of termites crossing your path into a reedy sausage -

>nrekk! stink! ant spice! but gotsa save the nice uns for later...

-and crunch some Drake Tail leaves for moisture-

>nyurhhh! sooo bitterrr! but lots moisture... nrrrh!

-you see a sudden break in the canopy, a waterfall of sunlight streaming in.

>Nuh. Big tree fell there. Big, big. Fat-like big; old-old.

The break in the canopy is big, but there's lots of new thin branches from other trees reaching into the heart of the sun.

>ZAH! That tree's fell dead a Heap Time (~20 days)!
>There's gon be BUGGS!

You hurry! The rocks here, moist and mossy from a river-fog, are real slippy; you go on your hands and foot-front, the Hundred Year Corpse Eater basic stance, and wind your way across the wet rocks with the Eight Devouring Transformations. While these don't let you jump anywhere or go real fast (being on two legs is better, for those), or exert any real strength trying to push past bushes and things, they convert all your slips and stumbles into forward momentum, no stops, towards the place you intend to go. So interesting! You can't wait to train for realsies and learn how the Thousand Segment Carrionpede REALLY works!

You reach the fallen giant of the forest and don't even need to knock to see if it's hollow and teeming: it's split open, right through! From the looks of things, seems like it caught some rot and got ate up from inside, and a few vines strangled it, and some boreworms, maybe a colony or three of sapper ants around the root system, and on a windy rainy day the fat baobab fell down dead!

You help yourself to two handfulls immediately, and one more for the road, then break off a big curvy plate of dead bark, and a big straight plate, and start loading the grubs in them, picking the biggest fattest and slowest with a discerning eye (like a Humie picking cheesed scallops at a buffet). You can't eat all of this right now, it's too fatty for an empty stomach, but DINNERTIME, when you have a chance to plop yourself somewhere comfy and cram your mouth and immediately ZZZ when you're done, ooooh yous eatten GOOD.

Once youve packed your bark-bugg sandwich as full and fat as you can, you wrap it over with big palms and vines, make sure nothing falls out. You even make a little sling from the vines, you're so happy.

Since you've found that gobber trove so quickly, you spend the rest of the afternoon setting traps and looking for beer-plants.

Again! Luck! Because Toady is the BEST!

Out of twelve drop-traps you set, you catch four things! A rabbit, some kind of rat, a quite big lizzy, and another rabbit. Yes!

And more than that! Beer-plants!

There are several kinds of beer-plants (plants with fruit or flowers that naturally ferment, sometimes assisted by symbiosis with "stiller" species; like pollinators, but for alcohol) you know about. The one you find is unmistakable: you can smell it even before you see the tree cluster: it's culc.

File: 1000084603.jpg (43 KB, 400x599)

43 KB JPG

>>6067319
Culc grow as tall as every other tree here in order to break the canopy. What's different is it's bendy throughout the trunk, smooth as an egg on the bark (the youngest part, near the top, gets as smooth as wet marble), no branches up, and at the top, a single huge bulb, like a closed tulip the width of a watermelon, and inside, one seed-heart in a pool of ferment.

Twice, perhaps three times a year the culc will sprout fruit and mature, and when it does the sweet licky stinki will waft for miles, drawing small birds to come sip, and big birds for a drunk lunch. And below, on the forest floor, the fragrant culc draw babwyn, who fight over who gets to climb and get the fruit (taking the first sip for sure), and when it is retrieved, fight about whose turn it is to sip, and who did more work, and how much is much.

The babwyn fight each other over the prize until one or two die. The rest, more peaceably drunk, finish their binge and sleep it off, leaving the culc seed-heart in the midst of bloodied ground and new dead flesh.

The new culc, if it takes the ground, grows to full height in about eight years, and in twenty the culc bulbs mature in their growth cycles to strain their nectar sweet and vent their petals humid. And the sweet licky stinki will start wafting up in a new place, marking violent death from twenty Full Suns since...

Welp! The babwyn are at it again in this place. A few have been brained all around the biggest trees, and there are no others around; must have gotten too wounded while fighting to climb.

You get going immediately. Hiding your big bark-bugg sandwich in the middle of a thorn bush, your bunch of fall-trap catches in a tree, you start climbing by hugging the culc with your arms and legs, then tying ankle to ankle and wrist to wrist with vines. Using the vines as a brace rope, and leaning your body out as a counterweight, and sometimes stabbing the fuggen slippy culc bark with your Dagger for an emergency grip, you make it to the top. There you help yourself to several drunk birds, eating them live. They chirp, too late. Ahhh. Too, too late. Nice.

Then you pull the petals fully close, bind it with more vine, and start a staggered, sliding descent.

You make it back on the ground and take a listen: nothing, no movement. Quickly, you grab the sandwich and the catches and hustle back to camp.

Seafood finna be IMPRESSED.

>>6067337
Aaaand of course he isn't. He caught his own supper while you weren't looking, just sitting where he was when you left him: an old woodcutter, and his old donkey.

Well, you can't really tell if they're old: he just drained them so thoroughly their flesh turned black and wrinkly, their eyeholes sunk empty, and their mouths fixed to an unquiet scream forever. Gnarly.

"You're back are you?" says Seafood, from under the dead-blackened palms leaves over his face. "You took so long, I had to have a snack without you."

Psss, a snack. He calls this a snack. This is BIG supper for six, when you had six of you. You know your Seafood is showing off, intentionally making you feel weak and small. You don't hate him for rubbing it in your face and smirking under the dead palm leaves: it is correct and right for the strong to laugh. The strong SHOULD laugh. You only envy him, and pity yourself, and get jealous, and think how you might steal his lot, or get stronger than him, and take from him. All this is natural. Nothing wrong. Obvious logic.

"What have you got? Come. Show Shifu."

You do, and without asking or thanking you he takes the drop-fall catches from your armpit and the wrapped culc from your shoulder, and proceeds without ceremony. The heart and liver of the catches he digs out immediately with his fingers. You watch him pop them into his mouth, your jaws following his, swallowing as he swallows. (Oooh, you really wanted those!!) But you don't show what you feel. You darent. You've learned not to. Another of Seafood's little lessons; useful, useful. They keep you safe, most of all from Seafood.

When he's taken all the nice bits he holds the whole lot of the catches together, and opens his mouth. His teeth sure are weird for a Humie. He has a few too many, hidden in muscled pockets at the sides, and the roof, and the tongue. The catches give out a thick mist, a mix of bright and dark red, and it all goes into his mouth. The catches dry up as he gluts, their outer surface losing color along with thickness, their faces drawing longer and longer in that endless scream. You don't look away. You never do. You wonder if there is any chance you might do the same.

When your Seafood's done, he flings the husks of the catches at you without addressing you, not one word or look, and with a fingerflick he slices the top off that massive culc bulb (it's not accurate to call it a bulb any more, it's so big; really it's a gourd) and drains the lot in one draught, letting dribbles of that precious sweetness run down his chin and neck. Does he even NEED hooch? He doesn't, you think; just blood, so long as it's living. He's drinking it all just to deny you, to spite you. To dare you to get angry, dare you to try something. To try HIM. Get fugged over THEN fugged up, all before dinner. You bow your head, accept it. Shit slops down; tyranny is the right of the strong. If there is any one truly truly, it is your own Young Seafood.

>>6067360
When he's done with the culc he hurls it crashing into the trees. You just flinch, not looking behind to see where it lands. If he sees your interest he might totally wreck that place, and then there'll really be nothing left.

"GHAAAH! Good wine! Good wine! Oh, your dear darling Shifu forgot himself. Do you want some?" He's smiling, bright as a daisy under a poison cloud, gesturing to his drenched chest, his soaked lower garments. You lower your eyes.

"Nnnot dursty, Seafood."

"Ah, so all's well then! I'm gratified to hear. Generosity sets the table, and Harmony eats it clean! Haha! But, my dear darling Tudi, what about you? Haven't you anything for yourself to eat?"

"Nuurh. Jus dis." You show him your big bark-bugg sandwich still in its wrapper, and he yanks it from you, greedily cutting the vines, flinging it wide ope-

"...this? You...?"

"Yah."

He glares at you, glares at the fat squirmy mess, watches one of them start up his dumbfounded hand.

He actually pauses. But then he forces himself, as if by principle, one no-one knows or holds but himself, and he snaps up the crawler with his teeth, and champs hard, fast, thorough! He swallows! And another! Another! More! Four at a time!

You watch him, already long past aggrieved at his destruction of dinner, just fascinated by him. Will he torment himself just to spite YOU? Who are YOU that he needs to rile you this bad?

And you get it. Suddenly, you get it. You are all he has, and he must make you suffer worse than he. He must see you BEG! You understand COMPLETELY. He esteems you enough for such malice, when with one wave of his hand he might end a thousand Men! He counts your suffering necessary! He NEEDS to see it! Without seeing you suffer, YOU in particular, he does not feel he truly exists! You are SO TOUCHED!

You fall on your knees and hands, and bang your head (lightly! on the soft bits of grass!), and beg from the top of your lungs, as if from a broken heart!

"SEAFOOD! PLEEZ! I'LL LIGG YOUR SHOE BUTTOMZ! I'LL LIGG YOUR BUTTOM BUTTOMZ! PLEEZ DONT BREAK MY DINNAAAH!"

Satisfied (relieved!), your Seafood empties his bulging cheeks right back onto the bark, deliberately over the surviving grubbers, shoves it back at you. He (badly) wants to rinse his mouth, but all the culc is gone.

"Fahh! I'm going for a walk! Don't follow me! Cursed damned jinxed idiot!"

You pick over the messed up plate of grubbers.

It's still ... good. Still lots. Just... prechewed.

>[SUPPER GREAT SUCCESS!]
>[-4 GENERAL PENALTY IS NOW EFFECTED!]
>[-4 GENERAL PENALTY IS NOW REMOVED!]

***

QM has done his best. Post dump incomplete. Will resume in 10 hours from this post.

Good night, good fellows.

File: 1000084608.gif (168 KB, 220x276)

168 KB GIF

>>6067381
Your Seafood was gone three days.

The place he chose to nap, the dead tree and utterly blasted patch of grass, gets attention from more eagle-eyed travellers on the road.

It's inconvenient to have to keep half an eye's watch all the time, and you have to drop whatever you are doing to sprint a distance and hide when, twice, armed Humies and Axebeards come poking around, but you stay at the camp. You expect your Seafood will come back, and if he doesn't find you within shouting distance of here, you're going to get it.

For those three days you just eat up, do drop-fall traps, pick things, and poop. It starts to look like you might hunt and strip the area four hundred paces from the dead tree empty. The amount and spread of your poop does some good: it stinks a lot because of your recent grubber-based diet, and the Fighty Ones that come through your camp are eager to conclude it abandoned because of that.

You practice the Carrionpede whenever you can, spreading your limbs across the ground without your elbows and knees resting, and scuttling here, scuttling there; over rocks, up trees and down again, an unsettling slalom of low profile, ferocious movement, for anyone watching. You still can't jump worth a damn from this posture, just a kind of bounding hop (~10" vertical, ~30' forward) which you can do fairly rapidly.

You wonder what the offensive parts of the Form are like. In anticipation of being taught, you pretend a short stick is a knife and whack at things as you scuttle past, full speed:

There! Your ankle! Yahh! No more toes! Harr! The bugghole!

This Form really is suited to you! You can't wait! You really can't wait!

But Gui Li's moanings crescendo to screams after a long bit, reminding you of the Conjugal Performance Ceremony you need to periodically perform, and you spend two Times and more'n half a Time (~ 2hrs 40mins) a day doing the Ceremony, about 3 to 4 times a day, to be safe. You always do the Ceremony once you're done training; it's always slowly, slowly, that Ceremony, might as well use it to catch your breath.

>[THOUSAND SEGMENT CARRIONPEDE IMPROVEMENT]

>[2+2-1(/4) MELEE HIT CHANCE, +0(/4) MELEE DAMAGE]

***

You get a few useful things from the dead woodcutter and his donkey: a battered old hatchet, near blunt, just the thing to pair with your Dagger; one back-basket, which you line with the dead Man's clothes and the donkey's blanket; and two large baskets, which you modify into double layered armor, using the donkey's bridle for the under-rigging, and short planks for the chest and shoulders, tied on with cording.

[COMBAT LOADOUT]
>Sky Pokey Dagger (Ruined), 1d10+1
>Shoddy Hatchet (Old), 1d3-1
>Shoddy Medium Armor (Kludged: 12/12 durability; usually 20+); -4 physical damage (usually 6-8); (Fitted; usual -2 movement penalty negated)

The back-basket and hatchet are useful when collecting wood, the main part of the material for the Ceremony, and various snacky stuff, the main other part.

File: 1000084609.jpg (36 KB, 474x371)

36 KB JPG

>>6067559
[CONJUGAL PERFORMANCE CEREMONY]

Build an Altar of wood, using a minimum of three fresh planks (picked and cut YOURSELF) for a teepee shape; usually four planks, a bigger one for a base, because you need to put things on it, and three smaller ones in a henge shape on top. You can nail or screw it together, but you don't have any right now, and wood-pegs are beyond you; instead you make a few shoddy fittings (just jags made with the axe and trimmed with the Dagger) and put as much tree gum as you can find on the joints. This is your Marital Home. So long as it is not destroyed (DO NOT REPAIR IF IT BREAKS; MAKE A NEW ONE) you can use it for the Ceremony.

Put two candles representing Groom and Bride in the Marital Home. You got a fair bit of animal and human fat from Seafood's left overs, and plenty of rag strips, which you kludge into candles for this purpose. So long as the candles are not totally spent they can be reused. Seafood says it is best if there is one red wax candle and one black wax candle, for the symbolism. You might try to find some later. If you bother.

Set 9 Oath Dishes in the Marital Home, around the two Candles (this is what the extra floor space is for). An Oath Dish is about a half-bite (Gobber bites are about Humie size; you all bite big) of all the food YOU eat. It is symbolically best if they are proper cooked food, and all different foods, but eh: you're in the wild right now, and there's still your own dried shit on your legs. She gets what you get. Even if it's 9 of the same type of grubber.

Set two Chopsticks, basically two shaved twigs of roughly equal length anywhere on the Altar. On the roof, in the house, on the "lawn", doesn't matter; anywhere on the structure. Symbolic, again; Chopsticks means Quick(ly produce) Sons, t. Seafood.

Now you're set up.

Light one candle (red for YOU) and wait, awake. The time it takes for your Bride to respond varies on things High or Low Days, Geomantic Conditions, Lunar Auspices, you don't get it, and it's not IMPORTANT. Just do the thing. Just wait until Gui Li is Ceremonially Present (anywhere up to an hour, very rarely more unless you have spectacularly pissed her off) (more than you have already), at which time the other candle (black) will gutter with a translucent green flame that gives no heat. Gui Li might or might not be visible at this time.

Now say the Nuptual Greeting out loud (not actually shouting, but your "outside voice"), which takes about 90 seconds at the correct tempo.

Gui Li will take up the Chopsticks and feed you half of each of the 9 Oath Dishes; when she's done, she will set them down. Now YOU do the same for her. Just pinch the food up with the Chopsticks, and hold it about your mouth level; it will suddenly vanish.

When all 9 ODs are done, lift and carry the altar above your head exactly 99 steps to its (95% approximate) original position.

Both candles should be out; Ceremony's done.

Pfehh. "Symbolic" "Sex".

Time for a wank!

File: 1000084610.jpg (42 KB, 400x598)

42 KB JPG

Rolled 12, 2 + 10 = 24 (2d20 + 10)

>>6067596
Seafood said a few things about the Ceremony.

Generally, making a real effort helps. The need for a Ceremony Six Times per Thirty Six Times might get reduced if you keep up a good effort, making you a net time savings. This means a real nice Marital Home, proper Groom and Bride candles (red and black, with Citron- and Frangipane- like scents respectively), and 9 Oath Dishes just short of One Michelin Star in quality.

You don't really see a point in wifing anything, and doubly not in a wife you can't even plup, but Seafood's already told you to do the CPC with a sneer that dares you to disobey. Some fuggen shit's going to happen to you if you don't keep this up, and it won't be from him. You just know it.

Right now you have free time and a ready rest-camp, so the CPC doesn't really wear on you yet. But when you travel you won't have either, and any big jostles to the Altar will break it. On the road, especially in some place where there's lotsa fighten, this is gonna be a fuggen CHORE.

You like to wish nothing happens, but goblins don't really waste time on hope; you collect more woods and fats and snackies in your basket-pack instead.

***

Around moon-drop (3am) on the fourth day, your Seafood wakes you by kicking you off the ground.

"Lazy bones. Make tea and fan me! We leave in an hour!"

You make the tea from his tea leaves and a small copper kettle he brought; makes not quite a full mug, and he's drinking all of it.

You fan him with date palms, yawning as you do. He just sits, taking in what is left of the night. Out of idleness you ask him.

"Where have you been, Seafood?"

He takes a long while before answering. You're not sure if he doesn't feel like telling you shit, or if he just wants to make you wait. At last his need to boast overcomes him.

"Your great Shifu Oneself flew to a - quaint little town. A visiting middling official is visiting. A Low Magistrate, from my understanding. Common. No ability, low ambition; just lust and greed, and not very much. Visiting his mistresses, collecting bribes to be skimmed and passed. Well! I killed him! And his immediate household! And the servants! And the dogs and horses! I took only enough blood to keep things believable, and set the Town in uproar! All his known enemies and mistresses were detained for questioning! Then I killed them too! When their families pleaded the authorities, I killed some! When the authorities tried to contain the riot, I killed some more! I took my temper out on them! All because of YOUR shitty dinner!

>[SUPPER GREAT SUCCESS ADDITIONAL REWARD]
>Yang Wuhan's need for living blood is reduced!
>rolling!

File: 1000084597.png (1.44 MB, 1080x1652)

1.44 MB PNG

Rolled 2 (1d10)

>>6067608
>Yang Wuhan's requirements to stabilize the Pall Body into a Living Doll is reduced by 24LM
>112 - 24 = 88!
>Auspicion! The Confluences are much in your favor!
>Yang Wuhan's own dinner being accounted!
>An middleaged Donkey and an old Woodcutter = 1.5 + 0.5 = 2 LM
>86LM pending!
>46 days left before the Pall Body spoils!

The Plague Town (actual name Derreschston; lately and informally, Ilap Guul) is about 20 days away, on foot. With Seafood force marching you it might take about 15 instead. It might be 13, even, but the Ceremony is taking its toll.

Your Seafood just gives you pointers, doesn't teach you anything new; you get good with the Hundred Year Corpse Eater and the Eight Devouring Transformations over the next six days.

>[THOUSAND SEGMENT CARRIONPEDE IMPROVEMENT]

>[3+1(/4) MELEE HIT CHANCE, +0(/4) MELEE DAMAGE]

>Yang Wuhan autonomously kills 1LM worth of living things per 3 days travelling through normal country; 6 days passed
>6 / 3 = 2LM
>86 - 2 = 84LM Pending
>46 - 6 = 40 Days Remaining

***
[TWO CHOICES TO BE MADE]
***

You've done the Ceremony a whole lot now, enough to do it without thinking.

One night you complete it per usual and are just about to flop and sleep as fast as possible- because Seafood will kick you awake if you rise later than him- Gui Li speaks to you.

You can see right good in moonlight, fairly well in full dark, but you can't really see Gui Li, even though you know she's right there. She doesn't want you to.

Seafood says Women, Virgins, and Children make vengeful Ghosts. Gui Li is all three and oooh she vengeful plenty plenty. You're glad she can't kill you directly. Seafood said so.

>hhai bhelhieved hyouu
>hhai TUH RUS TED hhyouu
>hhyou pr r o m M U H S T
>FhoOOD hhend hh hhOMMME
>hhend h h a i D H A I T D

[HOW DO YOU RESPOND]

>[FIB!]

>[FREN!]

>[PFEH!] }BRAAAP{

***

The way to Plague Town is certain, especially when you can see the stars.

The trouble is you remember the Plague Town has very few healthy people. You *can* just let Seafood devour the Town completely, but you remember that because of the Bad Magic several groups of strong Fighty Ones came by there to fix it. They should be all gone now, but some of them should be the White Ones (Paladins or Clerics) from the big City (Stelle Staas) not very far from the actual Humie Capitol. If you make too big a noise there they might think the Bad Magic's back. If you make some ambushes on the way, you might make things easier in Plague Town.

You suggest to Seafood to:

>vanish some lone travellers from the road, 1d4 LM

>off small groups of commoners, 1d4 + 1d6 LM

>top a bunch of Fighties off the map, 2d4 + 1d8 LM

>wipe some /k/nightboy wannabes in a WAAAGH! 5d6 LM

>Other? [WRITE!]

>AND ROLL 1D100

>QM 1d10=days to next encounter

He doesn't look at you, but you can hear the smirk.

"What a splendid idea! Opportune and easy, from a Tudi so diligent and bright! YOU do it! I look forward to your good news! Faah hahahahaaa!"

Shit!

File: 1697093611515598 frog shi(...).jpg (26 KB, 512x512)

26 KB JPG

>>6067078
>>6067075
>>6066479
>>6066448
>>6066442

Choices and rolls will be called ~20 hours of this post

>>6067713
add:

>presently 9 days until you reach Plague Town
>Seafood has 40 Days left
>Seafood needs 84LM worth of blood before then

>you will have an encounter in 2 days per QM roll
>>6067645

>when you have your encounter you will be 7 days from Plague Town
>Seafood will have 38 days left then
>Seafood will need 84 LM then

>>6067645

>off small groups of commoners, 1d4 + 1d6 LM

>[PFEH!] }BRAAAP{

Rolled 18 (1d100)

>>6067782 support
+ rolling

>>6068382
its joever

>>6068382
anon1, pls roll 1d100 to save this thread from the disgrace of
>>6068383
anon2

>>6067782
This Quest will be migrating to a NEW thread.

GoblinSnugglerQM is truly DEAD!!

And, I your KinoPhageQM, desire moar POWER!

Text formatting P O W E R ! ! !



The vote and roll will stay open until the next announcement, within the next 3-6 hours.

I'm busy.

Rolled 71 (1d100)

>>6067782

File: 1696269983864090 pepe_cra(...).jpg (113 KB, 1024x1024)

113 KB JPG

>>6068434
>>6068383

CHOICES AND ROLLS ARE LOCKED

THIS POOL IS CLOSED

NEW POOL NOW OPEN
>>6068523

>Goblin Cultivator REMAXXED II

WRITAN STARTS IN ~14 HOURS

THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATRONAGE