Slate 2011/11/19(Sat)10:13 No. 366511 ID: 61fa90
File 132172638234.png - (48.10KB , 700x500 , 3-1.png )

Marisa is jolted from her sleep by the sensation of losing her footing on a ledge.
She is not quite certain how long she has slept, and she cannot determine what time of day it is now; rain comes down still, in barrages against the walls and the window, thick enough with the clouds to blot out the sky. All Marisa can tell is that it is day. She ponders her next action.

for now get up and do some morning stretches. then go get some breakfast.

also make sure your fur is all smooth and clean

Engage morning routine. Discover what time of day it is and anything important.

Rest head against the wall and silently appreciate the fact that the rain is out there not in here.

Slate 2011/11/22(Tue)20:23 No. 367440 ID: e52a63
File 132202218937.png - (49.09KB , 700x500 , 3-2.png )

Marisa engages in her daily stretches and exercises. She also takes some time to groom herself; she does not care much for extensive personal maintenance, but she certainly does not wish to come off as a complete slob.
Routine complete, Marisa peers out the window so that she may glean some information as to the time of day or some other information of use. It is somewhat of a challenge to ascertain the goings-on outside, as the rain falls with such an intensity as to obstruct vision, but Marisa believes that she sees a few cloaked figures moving about down on the road, perhaps townspeople running their errands and whatnot.
Marisa rests her head against the window and closes her eyes, feeling the heavy raindrops strike the glass. She does not feel much in danger despite the storm raging outside, but it would be another situation entirely were she on the other side of the window.
Marisa realizes that she is actually quite hungry.

Slate 2011/11/22(Tue)20:23 No. 367441 ID: e52a63
File 132202220290.png - (61.48KB , 700x500 , 3-3.png )

Marisa dresses in her older, more comfortable clothing. She steps out into the hall, leaving her bag and other outfit in her room; should she have need of them, she may simply come back for them. Doors line the walls, presumably leading to other rooms in which other guests may be in residence, and the stairs lead down to the main floor at the end of the hall. Marisa can hear someone in one of the rooms, down the hall near the stairwell. Her stomach whines at her for sustenance.

Go downstairs and get your food. Unless it sounds like something violent, people deserve their privacy. When you get your meal from the woman (or whoever's on duty), you can ask if there's been any recent news or when there might be any expectation for the storm to let up.

investigate the commotion coming from that other door

Just press your ear up against the door. Don't enter or anything. If it's nothing to be concerned about, then go on and get some bacon or something.

Stop and listen carefully, but do not put your ear up to to the door or turn to face the door. That way you can listen in without seemsing suspicious if someone comes out. Once done listening, go downstairs and get some food. And chat with the avian. She seems like an intelligent person, we can respect a fellow book-lover.

That door is emitting a tiny tornado you must investigate!

No, just go downstairs.

Slate 2011/11/29(Tue)18:39 No. 368765 ID: e52a63
File 132262078857.png - (34.62KB , 700x500 , 3-4.png )

Personal privacy is but an obstacle to the truth, at least when it's not Marisa's privacy. She decides that she must know what this stranger is doing behind a closed door, but she shall be respectful enough to go about eavesdropping in a manner that would allow her enough plausible deniability.
Marisa surreptitiously paces her way to the staircase, but halts mid-step just in front of the door. She focuses on the noise emanating from within.
Marisa recognizes Adrienne's voice speaking, presumably to himself. Marisa cannot quite distinguish his words, but she believes she hears frustrated mention of "badly-drawn maps and charts" among a shuffling of paper.

Slate 2011/11/29(Tue)18:40 No. 368766 ID: e52a63
File 132262080372.png - (49.27KB , 700x500 , 3-5.png )

Her interest in the goings-on behind the door satisfied, Marisa descends the stairs and finds herself on the main floor of the tavern. The place is occupied, but sparsely. Groups of patrons shout and whoop together in the back as the patrons sitting at the bar brood over their drinks, save for one who is pulling the two around her out of their brooding with her unwelcome attempts at conversation.
Marisa notices Zephyr behind the bar, so she takes a seat and makes her presence known. Zephyr walks over to stand before Marisa.
"I was wondering when you'd come down; it's already a little past noon. I suppose you didn't have too much trouble settling in, then?"
Marisa demands sustenance, an order to which Zephyr readily obliges, disappearing into the back and returning with a plate of food. Marisa inquires as to when the storm is expected to clear and any other recent developments.
"I'm not sure when the rain will stop, but we've had showers like this before, and they always cleared up after about a week, so I suppose that might be the case with this one… Um, in other news, Adrienne told me that he wouldn't be talking to you today because he has a lot of work to do, so he told me to tell you that you would be working today with Garland-- Oh, and here she is."
The patron who was annoying her neighbors at the bar has come over to stand behind Marisa. She speaks.
"Hey, hey, Zephie! This Addie's new friend?"
She has a peculiar accent, and it turns out that she does not seem to speak as much as she heartily shouts. She heartily shouts at Marisa.
"Hey, I guess that makes us friends then, you and me! What's your name, amli?
Marisa is not pleased to discover a sangsaloj perching its filthy hand on her shoulder.

Just stare coldly at her.

What exactly is a sangsaloj? Anyway, did it seem that she actually knew the other two at the bar and perhaps they too might be working with you? Hard exactly to say what kind of 'work' Adrienne intended you to do with this new person, or even if he has the authority if he can tell you what you're supposed to do. He's not your boss, after all. He's more of a partner. Still, this person seems more aligned towards being actually USEFUL than Adrienne does, but... might need a bit of... putting in her place.

>>368766

Don't just stare. Say, "Nice bow."

And leave it at that. That way she's not sure if you're being sarcastic or just taciturn.

This is no time to be racist. Just because she has deformed skin that produces two colors of fur and proud conelike ears that make your dinky little persian ones look like mouse ears doesn't make her any less of a wonderful person.

Put your hand on her hip and just gaze into her eyes with no words.

>>368766
Tell her not to touch you. In as polite a manner as you can manage.

And tell her your name.

Slate 2011/12/02(Fri)16:36 No. 369391 ID: e52a63
File 132287259087.png - (46.87KB , 700x500 , 3-6.png )

Sangsaloj is a particularly venomous slur meaning "blood of dirt," reserved for such affronts to the senses as the one invading Marisa's personal space at the moment. The thing's deformed ears and unnatural multiple hair colors physically revolt Marisa, but she is able to keep from retching in polite company.
The other two the sangsaloj was accosting did not seem to know her; in fact, they seemed more like patrons who would have wanted nothing more at that moment for the filthy creature to leave them to their drinks. Or so it seemed to Marisa.
Marisa does not immediately reply to the sangsaloj with words; instead, she simply glares into the thing's eyes. Its eyes are likely deformed in some manner as well, though Marisa cannot presently determine how. She has resolved to do so later.
Marisa says, "Nice bow," and keeps glaring. She supposes that if she must work with the sangsaloj, she should at least attempt to not openly antagonize it. The thing stares back as it considers the unenthusiastic compliment.
"Hey, thanks!" it heartily shouts with a disgusting grin on its face.
Marisa tells it her name. It replies,
"I like it! Hey, I'm Garland, but you go call me whatever."
Through a mildly strained jaw, Marisa says to stop touching her. It responds by hugging an arm around Marisa and shouting into her ear.
"Hey, hey, Mary, you and me, we're diving together, standing back-to-back taking out monsters, bad guys! No reason we need be cold!"
Marisa finds her new nickname and the sangsaloj's disrespect for personal space intensely irritating.

>>369391
JEEZ SO RACIST

But she's being overly handsy regardless. Give her a shove to know you mean business on the no-touching front. Also tell her to stop shouting in your goddamn ear jesus christ.

Tell her that while you might be a little cold she is in fact being rude by not respecting your personal boundaries and if you're going to be working together she needs to chill out, if she doesn't take the hint use your fancy new freezing spell to give her the cold shoulder.

You're pretty well trained when it comes to marital arts, correct? Perhaps it'd be best to show your position on the totem pole by taking her arm and twisting it behind her back, to make sure she understands just where you stand.

OH GOD IT'S HUGGING YOU

yes call her out for being rude, and hurting her ears.

>>369432
>put the sangsaloj in her place
This sounds pretty in character.

>>369391
Well it's obvious she's one of those despicably bubbly personalities.

Swat her hand away with a glare, and tell her to deal with it.
She'll get over it, she's far too 'nice' to hold a grudge.

Slate 2011/12/08(Thu)20:11 No. 370810 ID: e52a63
File 132340388954.png - (46.23KB , 700x500 , 3-7b.png )

While Marisa considers a number of polite ways to tell the sangsaloj that it is overstepping certain personal boundaries, she is much more partial to the one that involves physical force.
Marisa decides to invoke her years of practicing martial arts and grappling when sh should have been in class. She grabs the arm draped over her, rises from her seat, and the sangsaloj yelps as Marisa twists its arm painfully behind its back. Marisa notes a couple of daggers strapped to its back with its harness. A couple of the patrons sitting at the bar glance over, but they don't seem alarmed, unlike Zephyr, who covers her face in surprise and babbles,
"Um, uh…"
Marisa evenly whispers that it is rude to disrespect personal boundaries and to shout directly into others' ears.
There is a pause.
"Hey, hey, okay, you could have just said!" the sangsaloj shouts.

Slate 2011/12/08(Thu)20:11 No. 370811 ID: e52a63
File 132340390298.png - (53.86KB , 700x500 , 3-8.png )

Marisa releases its arm and returns to sit down at the bar and grumpily returns her meal.
It rubs its wrist and attempts to conceal the shakiness in its voice as it shouts, at a noticeably lower volume,
"H-hey, you got a grip!"
Marisa ignores it and keeps chewing.
Zephyr looks at Marisa the way a mother may look upon her naughty child before turning to the sangsaloj and asking with notable concern, "Um, Garland, are you okay?"
It dismisses Zephyr with a wave as it takes a seat next to Marisa. She notices that it is keeping a healthy amount of space between them it and her.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I just stepped a line, Mary let me know. Nothing big! Now the boundaries I know."
Marisa's eye twitches almost imperceptibly upon the sangsaloj's mention of her nickname, and she finds herself further irritated as the sangsaloj interrupts her meal with an attempt at further conversation.
"Now," it says, turning to Marisa, its voice already back at its original annoyingly loud volume, as though it has already forgotten about the arm twisting, "Mary, I tell you are not for talk too much, so I'll set it out for you: Addie found a something like an old stronghold built into the mountainside in the desert just outside Lenid Grande, found it a few weeks ago. You and me, Mary, we'll be heading down there and figuring what's inside. It's not that far, and we'll probably by nightfall be back. You have questions?"

*shake your head once*
(unless anyone thinks of any questions)

question in your head the sangsaloj's slutty attire, I mean just look at those pants! one sharp tug and they'd fall! shameful!

anyways remind her of your real name,

is it still raining out? if so ask if anything else is known about these ruins, or if they are dangerous.

if it isn't raining might as well head out immediately and ask questions on the road.

>>370853

This but secretly remain envious of wanton sluts.

I guess ask if she has rope, torches etc. If not go shopping.
Also start calling her Gary.

punch her.

Slate 2011/12/11(Sun)21:31 No. 371567 ID: e52a63
File 132366790511.png - (53.63KB , 700x500 , 3-9.png )

Marisa already has in her room a length of rope, as well as a large kitchen knife and some other miscellaneous items, and her runic fire should serve as a sufficient light source in darkness. She would also rather not address the sangsaloj by any name if she can help it. When Marisa wants to address the thing, "Hey, you," will simply have to suffice.
Marisa can still hear the storm raging outside. A thunderclap sounds, but it goes ignored by the patrons, who continue unabated in their revelry. She grudgingly asks if there is anything else important to know about the ruins, like how they could be dangerous. Marisa does not enjoy having to rely on the sangsaloj for important information, much less having to interact with the thing at all.
"Well, I guess what would to know be important is this place looks like it was carved into the side of a mountain in the desert near Lenid Grande, so we're probably climbing a little; you have rope, Addie told me, so that makes climbing easier. He told me also you'll handle the lighting, so I won't need to bring torches. Anyway, probably it was a military Aviairan outpost for Lenid Grande before Chatze got to Lenid Grande, so it'll be empty probably. The Aviairans I think still run patrols that run sometimes through the route we're taking, but they probably won't be a problem, even if they notice us," it answers.
As it speaks, Marisa gives the sangsaloj's choice of dress a look over and is appalled by how loose-fitting the trousers seem. She finds yet another reason to resent the thing. Marisa manages to restrain herself from loudly exclaiming that the sangsaloj is a harlot, however; she is in polite company.
"Now, Mary--"
Marisa interrupts and in a hostile tone reminds the sangsaloj that her name is, in fact, Marisa, and not "Mary." The sangsaloj looks momentarily surprised by the interruption, but takes it into stride and returns to its sickeningly cheerful expression.
"Now, Marisa, you and me, we have everything figured I think, so I'm ready to be going when you are." It reclines on the counter and politely waits for an answer.
Marisa clenches her fist. Something about the sangsaloj's very existence instills in Marisa an urge to simply punch the thing, but she is able to resist.

>>371567
Let's get this over with, then!

Once we're in a place we can talk quietly be sure to tell her that you are not her friend, will never be her friend, and the only reason we're going along with her is we're getting paid for it. Also tell her we'll be calling the shots.

>>371567

"I think you should bring a couple of torches anyway. Just in case. I'd hate to leave you two in the dark if I were caught on the wrong side of a collapse."

secretly resent the sangsaloj for having a splendid tail, while you remain tailess

Oh man that is one beautiful tail look how it sways back and forth...

Aren't we forgetting an incredibly important appointment? This venture could very well lead to missing it.

>>371596
Do humans resent monkeys?
>>371567
Lets get this show on the road.
>>371580
Also remember to make it VERY clear to Adrienne that if he pulls a stunt like this again you'll find out how many ways there are to skin a cat.

Important: work out any money matters beforehand. That didn't go so well last time.

Sounds like fun

>>371723
This. Also the torches thing.

>>371567
Ask what she can do (other than shoot things with her STUPID BOW and LOOK UGLY).

>>371721

Who doesn't resent monkeys?

Slate 2011/12/19(Mon)15:29 No. 373590 ID: e52a63
File 132433737793.png - (53.69KB , 700x500 , 3-10.png )

>>371596
>>371597
Woe betide those who would utter such things to Marisa's face.
Marisa inquires as to what skills her new companion possesses.
"Well, I'm with the bow pretty good, and I'm as an acrobat pretty good, and I'm with the knives pretty good, but don't tell anyone about those because I have only the license for the bow. It's for…"
The sangsaloj gives Marisa a conspiratory look and a grin.
"Hunting."
Marisa suggests that it may be prudent to bring some torches should there be a cave collapse that causes a separation. The sangsaloj looks at Marisa blankly for a moment before its face lights up in agreement.
"Hey, that's a good idea! I'll go get some from Addie."
Marisa follows the sangsaloj up the stairs and to the rooms, saying that she shall retrieve her equipment for the journey and to meet her just outside the tavern.
Marisa leaves the thing to bother Adrienne and she goes into her own room. Marisa packs the bag with a length of rope, a large kitchen knife, a sturdy hunk of wood, and the little bag of worthless Rothian pennies. She wraps the loaned cloak around herself and picks up her bag and exits the room.
Before heading out, Marisa decides to make a quick detour to see Adrienne just before she leaves. Fortunately, the sangsaloj seems to have gotten its torches already, so Marisa will be able to speak with Adrienne in private. Marisa raps on the door and waits a few moments. She hears footsteps from behind the door grow closer.
"Garland, is that you again? What do you need?" the door swings open, revealing Adrienne looking mildly bedraggled.
It takes Adrienne a second to realize that Marisa is standing before him, and by the time he does, a finger has been waved threateningly in his face. Marisa gravely warns Adrienne not to pull a stunt like this again. He stares at her in confusion.
"Stunt? W-what stunt?"

Slate 2011/12/19(Mon)15:29 No. 373591 ID: e52a63
File 132433738963.png - (68.16KB , 700x500 , 3-11.png )

Marisa stomps off, leaving Adrienne to stand in the doorframe looking dumbly after her. Marisa calls out a quick farewell to Zephyr as she passes by the bar on her way outside. Zephyr fumbles to respond, but Marisa is out the door before she can.
The sangsaloj has, to Marisa's mild relief, been waiting patiently for here with two torches strapped to its torso, and the thing seems to have procured a rain cloak since she last saw it. The sangsaloj has hidden its bow and other equipment under the cloak. Marisa supposes that this ordeal might not turn out to be so terrible if the filthy thing can follow orders. Just to make sure that everything will go alright, though, Marisa steps forward out into the rain with her back to the sangsaloj for dramatic effect as she concisely states that there is no friendship here, there will be no friend-making anywhere, the sole reason for this partnership is that Marisa is being paid to be a part of it, Marisa shall be assuming the primary leadership role, and Marisa shall be fair in making the final decision as to how the profits will be divided.
The sangsaloj stares at Marisa with a blank look, in contemplation over what she has just said. Marisa contemplates how much she loathes the filthy creature.
"Hey, sure! Following I'm okay with! Easier for me to not worry that big stuff coming with leadership. Anyway, we're going?"
The sangaloj's voice's natural volume is loud enough to make it easily heard above the rain crashing against the ground. It is ironic, Marisa muses humorlessly to herself, that even all this rain would not be enough to cleanse the filthy, filthy creature.

Onward to the ruin.

>>373591
Hey, she didn't mention the pay split. Hmm. We'll have to bring that up again before it becomes an issue. Perhaps once we get out of the rain?

Why so much obsessing over a sangsaloj Marisa? For shame!

yes it is time to stop dwelling on the creature.

you are her better, as long as she understands her place you might as well learn to accept her existance.

Slate 2011/12/28(Wed)12:30 No. 375761 ID: e52a63
File 132510420338.png - (69.97KB , 700x500 , 3-12.png )

Marisa trudges forth with the dirty sangsaloj following behind by a couple of meters, thankfully giving Marisa enough space to not have to worry about the thing unexpectedly sullying her with its touch. As she absentmindedly navigates through the rain-soaked streets and out of the town proper, Marisa's thoughts are occupied by just how utterly she despises the sangsaloj. Marisa is unable to contain the wry expression on her face as she imagines the sensation of a million microscopic insects crawling under skin that must come with having the grotesque mutation that the sangsaloj possesses.
Marisa dwells upon the many ways in which the creature offends every one of her senses in some capacity by simple virtue of its very existence up for about an hour until she stumbles and almost trips on a sudden fracture in the dirt road. It is at this moment that Marisa decides that she has obsessed over the sangsaloj for too much for far too long. She reminds herself that she is the filthy creature's better and that, as long as it understands its place, Marisa may as well accept the sangsaloj's existence, no matter how thoroughly it revolts her.
Marisa clears her head of thoughts of the sangsaloj and turns her attention elsewhere. For the first time since leaving the town with the sangsaloj in tow, Marisa becomes away of her surroundings. The town is nowhere to be seen. Instead, sandy hills roll off in just about every direction. In the direction that Marisa is facing, a grand mountain range streaks across the horizon, surrounding an even greater mountain upon the side of which rests a large settlement. Marisa sees the entrance to the abandoned outpost built into a nearby mountain face. Before Marisa there flows a field of sand dotted with massive rocks and boulders buried halfway in the ground under pounds of windblown dust. The occasional parched shrub, with crisp and gangly leaves of a sickly brown, pokes out from under the sand. This is a place that does not seem to see rainfall too often, which makes the sight of it being drenched by the thundering storm a touch novel.

Slate 2011/12/28(Wed)12:30 No. 375762 ID: e52a63
File 132510421614.png - (63.07KB , 700x500 , 3-13.png )

The storm. Lightening flashes, and for just a fraction of a second all is bathed in white, and long, piercing shadows are cast across the landscape before the colors of the sand and stone are once again washed out by the rain. The rain. When the rain started yesterday, Marisa could handle it. The rain started lighter than it rains now, and she didn't have to suffer under it for an hour straight. And with her mind no longer preoccupied with the disgusting existence of the sangsaloj, it is only just now Marisa realizes that she is being showered with torrents of water that threaten to gather into a deep pool that rises so painfully slowly yet eventually to a height higher than she can stand on the tips of her toes so that she must start to tread water until her arms and legs ache so sorely that she can no longer keep herself afloat and so sinks under the surface she cannot see and cannot breathe yet must breathe for if she does not her lungs shall burst and so she opens her mouth and inhales deeply yet all she inhales is water which floods her throat and lungs and her vision fades to black as the last sensation is slime against skin
"Hey, Marisa, you okay? Why'd you stop? You were taking us in the right way, even though I'm not sure if you know the way actually, so I didn't say anything because
Marisa stops listening. She she is too focused on how her raincloak seems dangerously close to being completely soaked through.

>>375762
She's not bothered by the water. Look at her, smiling with her hood down. How can you possibly let yourself be beaten by something like that?

Quickly avoid drowning in the raging storm waters by unthinkingly climbing aboard the shoulders of the nearest person (Garland).

run towards the nearest cover, you must escape the falling water.

Calm down; you are surrounded by mountains, even the worst possible flood will never reach their tops, you will not drown.
Still you don't want to sleep on a mountain top. The sooner you get the job done the sooner you can be inside a warm dry building.

No time to think. Get to high ground!

Slate 2012/02/09(Thu)16:20 No. 385469 ID: e52a63
File 132883320836.png - (58.02KB , 700x500 , 3-14.png )

>>375852

An impossible maneuver; the sangsaloj is not a person. Regardless, Marisa must find relief from the storm and refuge from drowning. Quite luckily, she spots a rock jutting from the sand a fair distance ahead that seems like it may provide some measure of shelter from the storm. The sangsaloj shouts after Marisa as Marisa steps off the path and makes for the rock, but she ignores it; she is too focused on reaching shelter.
The rain-soaked sand deforms like a sloppy paste underfoot, and it causes Marisa to inwardly cringe as she trudges through it. The ordeal is short-lived, thankfully, and she is under the rock and away from the rain in a matter of moments. The sand under the rock is shielded from the rain and slightly raised in relation to the sand around it so that no water pools under the rock, perhaps making this particular bit of shelter the driest place in the relative area. Marisa leans against the rock and now, being out of the rain and on slightly higher ground, she can relax her fears of being submerged, at least for now, and take some time to think. Unfortunately, though, Marisa is unable to as the sangsaloj apparently sees fit to bother her by shouting with its infuriating voice.
"Hey, you see them? Those guys sound angry really!"

Slate 2012/02/09(Thu)16:20 No. 385470 ID: e52a63
File 132883322659.png - (53.92KB , 700x500 , 3-15.png )

Marisa, from under the safety of the rain-shielding rock, spots a team of uniformed individuals approaching her position. She must have been too distressed to notice them until now. The one at the front, an avian, shouts out to her, but Marisa cannot make out his words over the rainfall.
"I should handle this, or you?" the sangsaloj whispers.

let her handle it, as handling it yourself would probably require you to leave the safe cover of your rock

>>385470
Expendable meat shields always go first.

Also, this discrimination shit is really getting on my nerves, cut it out.

Be ready to back her up with your magic. From a distance. You can do that, right? You don't *have to* punch people to use your magic, right?

>>385531
>You don't *have to* punch people to use your magic, right?
Rune puncher.
Rune puncher.

>>385551

You don't have to punch people.

>>385551
Well she has magic that is not directly punching related, but it is still focused on close-range.

Do you recognize the uniforms? In either case, you'd be better equipped to handle them than the non person, especially as arrow don't fly so well in the rain. Have her sit back and yourself reason with them or whatever on the verge of your cave.

Let Garland handle the diplomacy because you are a rune puncher not a diplomancer, when/if they attack kill them and use their coats to keep dry.
>>385488
>Also, this discrimination shit is really getting on my nerves, cut it out.
I feel you bro but you might as well tell her to get over her fear of rain.

Slate 2012/02/19(Sun)21:29 No. 387831 ID: e52a63
File 132971576881.gif - (45.67KB , 700x500 , 3-16.gif )

Marisa does not recognize the uniforms, but she would assume them to be of the Lenid Grande militia forces, considering a certain non-person's prior mention of Aviairan patrols running through the area. Marisa asks the sangsaloj, and it confirms that this does, in fact, seem to be a patrol team from Lenid Grande. Marisa tells the sangsaloj to go first and handle them while she stays back, poised to intervene should the encounter turn sour; Marisa's skills are most effective in a melee, but she is still competent enough at minor range. The sangsaloj nods at Marisa with a sickening wink and grin before going up to meet the ill-tempered looking avian at the head of the patrol. Marisa is sending the thing up first so that she herself will be in a more tactically advantageous position should an altercation break out, but she is expecting the sangsaloj to act more as an expendable meat shield than anything else.
The sangsaloj meets the avian at the head of the patrol team, the apparent leader of the group, just a few meters out from under the cover of the rock protruding from the sand. The sangsaloj adopts a nonchalant attitude as it addresses the avian.
"What seems to be the problem, occifer?"
Marisa begins to regret sending the sangsaloj to handle negotiations.

Slate 2012/02/19(Sun)21:29 No. 387832 ID: e52a63
File 132971578228.gif - (49.03KB , 700x500 , 3-17.gif )

"The problem is that you are trespassing on territory under the jurisdiction of the city of Lenid Grande!" The leader seems an irascible young man; his feathers are all out of place and his voice carries a tone of irritability that could be easily provoked into passionate outrage. "Was stripping us of our rights and independence not enough for you cats?"
The sangsaloj keeps cool in its response.
"No harm was what we meant. Let me introduce us; Garland is my name, and," it gestures behind itself to Marisa, "Mary is my friend." Marisa winces at the latter statement. She will need to take some time later to remind the sangsaloj of its place.
"I'd rather see you lick your own asshole than know your name, cat!" the avian snaps in response. Marisa finds herself liking him a lot less now, though that is not to say that she liked him in the first place.
"Hey, hey, you go stick that beak up your own!" the sangsaloj shouts back.
Marisa is now seriously regretting sending it to handle negotiations. She is about to go in and salvage the situation when the avian continues.
"Shut up, cat! You--"
"Tyfon, don't be a child," a member of the group, standing to the side, calmly interjects. The avian wears a fastened cloak. The supposed leader turns away from the fuming sangsaloj to face his insubordinate subordinate.
"Did you hear what the runt said to me?!"
"You slung the first insult, I believe," the avian under the hood replies.
"Shut up, Bries! The fact stands that they are two suspicious Chatze trespassing on Lenid Grande territory!"
"Hey, a Chatzen is not who I am!" the sangsaloj interrupts. The supposed leader, growing ever more perturbed by the moment, swivels back around to shout at her.
"Shut up! I don't care if you are Chatze or Rothe or even Lieuthe! You--"
"Tyfon, I was not aware we had come to a consensus as to whether these two were trespassing or not," the hooded avian interjects yet again.
"Shut up, Bries! You will address me as 'captain'! What are you talking about?!"
"Captain, I'm surprised that you of all people would not know this. If I'm not mistaken, the laws provides us with the authority to turn away all suspicious-looking persons, and I can't say that I find two hikers heading for the mountains too suspicious."
"Well, I find them suspicious," a third avian says. She is the only one of the avians who keeps her hood down.
"So do I. Temp!" The leader turns to the aquatic staring silently out over the dunes. "What do you think?"
The aquatic glances over Marisa and the sangsaloj before returning his gaze to the distant dunes. His rippling muscles gleam wet in the rain.
"They are okay, I think. To go ahead, I mean."
"It would seem that we are at an impasse," the hooded avian says thoughtfully, though the leader, giving her a look borne of seething irritation, seems to take it as a slight against him or his leadership skills.
"Shut up, Briese!"
"So, what do we do about them?" the third avian says, gesturing to Marisa and the sangsaloj.
"We could hear them out," the hooded avian says. She turns to the sangsaloj, "Dear, what are you and your friend doing out here?"
"Shut up, Bries! I'm in charge, so I'll ask the questions!" the leader snaps. He turns his attention to the sangsaloj.
"What's your excuse!?" he demands of the sangsaloj.
Considering how the sangsaloj has handled this encounter so far, Marisa is thinking that allowing it to answer would not be the wisest choice.

Step forward confidently to handle the situation. Clearly this calls for a superior touch that such a mongrel could never handle without resorting to violence. As soon as you open your mouth, realize you spent so much time hating on Garland that you didn't actually pay attention to why you were coming out here in the first place.

>>387844
Also fail to realize how similar in spirit you are to the cat-hating bird.

"Garland, peace. Captain Tyfon, I dislike the rain. We were seeking the only shelter we knew of near here, an old ruin. We hoped to be able to get out of the weather, and then return home. I see by your cloak that you dislike the weather as much as I do. Such a constant annoyance can turn a body's mood ugly. Can't we forget the insults traded and continue on our respective ways? I am unhappy being rained on."

>>387832
Go off that previous comment about hikers heading towards the mountain. Encourage that misconception without being ENTIRELY untruthful. Don't mention the ruins... um, maybe there's a landmark in that direction that you can claim to be going to?

Slate 2012/03/13(Tue)19:39 No. 392590 ID: e52a63
File 133169275158.gif - (34.90KB , 700x500 , 3-18.gif )

Marisa confidently steps forward, directing toward the mongrel an order to step down, as this situation clearly calls for a superior diplomatic touch. As soon as she opens her mouth, Marisa knows exactly what she is going to say.
Though her thoughts have recently been occupied primarily with how much she despises the sangsaloj, Marisa has not been so terribly distracted that she has forgotten the reason why she made this journey, in the pouring rain, all the way out to the desert and mountains just outside of Lenid Grande, that reason of course being to delve into the ruins of the Lenid Grande military outpost that Adrienne discovered. Considering the captain's disdain toward Chatzen, which seems to arise from how Chatze crippled his city's military, Marisa realizes that it may not be prudent to tell the captain that she is out here to loot one of his city's forcibly decommissioned military outposts.
Instead, Marisa decides to obfuscate her true intentions. She plays off of one of the soldier's previous comments on hikers, addressing the captain by his name as she untruthfully confirms that she was simply on her way to go hiking, and so as to seem sincere, mentions that was drawn to this particular part of the mountains by the city of Lenid Grande, the only nearby landmark aside from the outpost ruins that she knows of.
"Do you see there, Tyfon? They are not foreign saboteurs here to infiltrate our lands, but instead hikers on their way to take the wonderful sights and sounds of our countryside."
The captain scoffs.
"In a rainstorm? I find that quite suspicious."
"For the sake of the One, Tyfon! Must everyone passing through here be up to something?" the hooded avian cries out, exasperated.
The third avian speaks up.
"I agree with Briese. Tyfon, perhaps we should let them be? I think they seem harmless enough."
Feeling the momentum of the conversation flowing now in her favor, Marisa tries to make an appeal to the captain, telling him that it would perhaps be best to drop the issue as she is certain everyone would be eager to get out of the rain anyway.
"You might get out of the rain when you would like, but not us! No, we must continue our patrol even after the sands will be so waterlogged as to swallow us whole!"
The captain pauses for a moment, glaring at Marisa, before continuing grudgingly.
"Very well, you can go. But, know that I do not trust you! Get out of here before I change my mind!"
Marisa believes that she can see, out of the corner of her eye, the hooded avian looking smugly pleased with herself.

Slate 2012/03/13(Tue)19:39 No. 392591 ID: e52a63
File 133169276778.gif - (35.65KB , 700x500 , 3-19.gif )

The captain marches off, ordering his team to follow. Marisa could swear that the hooded avian, as she turned to leave, winked knowingly at Marisa.
As the soldiers disappear into the distance to continue their patrol, the notion that Marisa and the captain are not so dissimilar in spirit creeps into her mind, but she quickly dismisses it; the avian captain's mistrust of Chatzen is obviously borne of irrational prejudice, while Marisa's hatred for the disgusting sangsaloj is obviously entirely rational and justified.
Marisa is pained to recall the sangsaloj's presence directly behind her when it pouts and says,
"Hey, I said I would handle them!"

>>392591
State that it looked like she was merely getting them worked up, and we should just get going.

>>392590

State that you do not care what it said. Then return to your impromptu rain shelter.

Tell her that this is not a game or a contest, you got past the watchmen and thats what matters.
If she still persists tell her the next time she decides to make a fool of herself you will be sure to stay on the sidelines.
Also lets get going.

Punch her in the shoulder and inform her that her wishes are insignificant. Then leave.

Slate 2012/03/23(Fri)18:38 No. 395300 ID: e52a63
File 133255312549.gif - (37.40KB , 700x500 , 3-20.gif )

"Hey, I said I would handle them!"
At almost the very moment the phrase has escaped the sangsaloj's lips, Marisa has already prepared a scathing retort; she snaps back, saying that she does not care, that this is no game nor contest, that all that matters is that they bypassed the sentries, and that if this childish attitude should persist, Marisa shall not be so generous as to intervene in the next altercation.
Marisa is about to further say that that they should be going now, but she notices the sangsaloj staring back at her with a perplexed look, its mouth absentmindedly left open. It is now when Marisa realizes that the sangsaloj may not have actually finished speaking, and that Marisa may have been slightly too hasty in snapping at it. The sangsaloj's mild shock vanishes, however, and it immediately returns to its usual sickeningly cheerful mood.
"Hey, I didn't mean it serious, Mary! I was joking! I'm glad you stepped in, actually. That guy I thought was going to eat me whole, he was so mad!"
The sangsaloj turns and starts trudging toward the entrance to the abandoned outpost carved into the mountain.
"Hey, come on! Let's get where we're going!" the sangsaloj calls back to Marisa.

Slate 2012/03/23(Fri)18:39 No. 395301 ID: e52a63
File 133255314997.gif - (32.99KB , 700x500 , 3-21.gif )

Marisa is loathe to be a follower when the leader is an impure mongrel, and quickly outpaces the sangsaloj. The wet sand trying to suck down her feet with every step she takes disgusts Marisa almost as much as the sangsaloj's hideous mutation.
After a grueling trek across a vast slurry of water-bloated sand, the two arrive before the outpost. Many remnants of what would seem to have been a large stone staircase carved out of the mountain lay scattered, half-buried, in the sand. Bending back to look up at what she would assume to be the entrance to the outpost, it becomes apparent to Marisa that it may not be wise or even possible to make an attempt to climb up the sheer mountain face, slick from the rain.
"Okay, let's do this!"
The sangsaloj, with a running start, leaps up against the mountain wall and manages to catch a foothold. Its hands, however, cannot quite find purchase on a shallow crevice. It slowly tilts backward, repeatedly swiping at the crevice all the while, before plummeting face-up into the sand. It grins bashfully back up at Marisa
"Okay, maybe it's a little we need to think about this."
Marisa answers with a sneer.

Slate 2012/03/23(Fri)18:39 No. 395302 ID: e52a63
File 133255316330.gif - (31.28KB , 700x500 , 3-21b.gif )

Included in Marisa's current inventory are:
a sturdy branch,
a large kitchen knife,
and a length of rope, among other miscellaneous things.

This is EXACTLY why you carry rope.
I don't think the knife or branch would be sturdy enough to hold us, though. If we can find something strong enough, we can coat the bottom of our feet with sand, as horrible as it would be, to get some traction.

You may be able to attach one of those miscellaneous things of sufficient weight onto the length of rope and toss it over/around a suitable looking outcropping.

I too second the 'sand on the feet/hands plan for better gripping in this rain.

Or we could just form a lasso with the rope and see if we can throw it up to hook on something.

Slate 2012/03/25(Sun)23:11 No. 396116 ID: e52a63
File 133274229422.gif - (21.21KB , 700x500 , 3-22.gif )

>>395312
>>395881
If at all possible, Marisa would like to keep her hands and feet unsoiled, especially if sloppy, wet sand is to be the implement of soiling.

>>395905
A simpler and much more agreeable solution that does not (yet) involve coating oneself with sand. Marisa ties a loop into the rope and swings it up; it catches on something at the top of a shattered block of stone steps. She gives the rope two sharp tugs, and it holds.
"Ooh! Hey! I can go first?" the sangsaloj shouts, excited.

>>396116
Let her. It lets you test the strength of the connection.

Yeah, if it breaks, you won't be the one getting hurt.

Slate 2012/03/27(Tue)16:38 No. 396412 ID: e52a63
File 133289150182.gif - (19.02KB , 700x500 , 3-23.gif )

Marisa says yes. The mongrel yips joyfully and jumps up onto the rope with a running leap. The rope creaks and groans, but it holds, and the sangsaloj latches on and swings about as it scrambles up the length, the rope creaking and groaning all the while.
The sangsaloj pulls itself up to the top of a chunk of steps.
"All clear!" it calls back down to Marisa before turning around and presumably occupying itself with the conundrum of how to further scale the mountain wall.
Marisa supposes that the rope has proved safe enough so far. She grasps the rope, ensures that she has a solid grip on it, and proceeds to pull herself up.

Slate 2012/03/27(Tue)16:38 No. 396413 ID: e52a63
File 133289151847.gif - (7.45KB , 700x500 , 3-23b.gif )

Halfway up the rope, it seems that this particular dungeon dive will commence without too much incident--

GRAB THE WALL!

>>396413
Stop. Get a handhold or something. Call out to the other girl to ask her to pull you up.

Damn girl that ain't all fur, is it.

If you're low enough to the ground; drop and get out of the way, then have Garland either hold the rope herself, or secure it to something less currently crumbling, as she's already up there, and could more easily find a secure point.

Slate 2012/03/28(Wed)16:11 No. 396702 ID: e52a63
File 133297626545.gif - (25.07KB , 700x500 , 3-24.gif )

Marisa feels the rope slipping after it suddenly jolts downward. She calls to the sangsaloj for help as she tries to catch a foothold on the sheer mountain wall, but the rope hangs too far away for her to do any more than skim her toes against the slick rock. The sangsaloj twists around and, upon seeing Marisa's predicament, dives for the slipping rope. While it does manage to snatch the rope, the mongrel's heroic dive also has the effect of completely breaking off the section of stone the rope was anchored to, leaving the sangsaloj the only obstacle between Marisa and a sandy plummet. The sangsaloj tries pulling her up.
Could it be now when Marisa, rescued by one of the very "freaks" that she has hated and despised all her life, will see the error she has made in harboring her immense prejudices--

Slate 2012/03/28(Wed)16:11 No. 396703 ID: e52a63
File 133297627636.gif - (17.53KB , 700x500 , 3-24b.gif )

"Oop! Sorry! You were too heavy! The stone looked weak, but break wasn't what I thought it would do! Sorry, sorry!"

Look at the mongrel.
"Did you just call me fat?"

When it is done sputtering its pathetic excuse, throw the rope at it and demand that it re-tie it somewhere less likely to result in a plummet to your death.

growl at it.

Throw the rope up to Garland and have her attach it somewhere more firmly. Then climb the broken staircase, not the sheer cliff wall. If most of your weight is on the mountain then the rope can't slip off or break.

Also I forgot how heavy wet fur is. Obviously you're not fat at all.

>>396703
Maybe we should just like, use the stairwell as stepping stones via acrobatics.

Slate 2012/03/30(Fri)20:38 No. 397262 ID: e52a63
File 133316513417.gif - (18.53KB , 700x500 , 3-25.gif )

It takes a moment for Marisa to register that she is lying face-up in the sand. It takes a raindrop landing in her eye for Marisa to register that her face is completely exposed to the rain, and the subsequent sensation of drowning immediately sends her scrambling back to her feet. Marisa furiously curses the sangsaloj under her breath and tries to wipe the water from her face and scrape off all the wet sand sticking to the back of her cloak.
Marisa grabs the rope out of the sand and tosses it up at the sangsaloj as she would a stone. It flops pathetically to the ground. Marisa gathers herself for a moment. Though it was brief, her moment of exposure to the rain has greatly agitated her.
Marisa shouts to the mongrel to catch the rope and tie it around something that won't completely break off of the mountain, and proceeds to swing the rope over her head and cast it up to the sangsaloj.
As the sangsaloj fumbles incompetently with the rope, Marisa heaves herself onto a low section of the broken staircase; though she is wary of the weak stone giving way, she sees little other choice. The next section of stairs is too far for her to jump to unassisted.
As she does this, Marisa finds herself musing about how she does not understand why there would be a stigma toward being stout or heavyset. Being raised in Chatze, Marisa was under the impression that having a slightly above-average weight meant that one was healthy and well-fed.
These thoughts lead Marisa to realize that the sangsaloj actually seems quite thin, and Marisa subsequently discovers another reason to despise it; one off what shall undoubtedly be many, many more. The sangsaloj.

Slate 2012/03/30(Fri)20:51 No. 397272 ID: e52a63
File 133316587821.gif - (39.91KB , 700x500 , 3-25b.gif )

>"That sangsaloj. Sang-sah-loy. 'Tainted blood.'
>You hate her?"

Slate 2012/03/30(Fri)20:51 No. 397273 ID: e52a63
File 133316590567.gif - (20.90KB , 700x500 , 3-25c.gif )

…
Marisa heard someone whispering behind her.

>>397273
Say "Who's there?"

But realize it came from your pouch, and look in it.

Okay, don't freak out or anything. Get to a safe spot where your well-being isn't dependent on the mongrel, and then figure out who is talking to you.

Maybe you can say "Yes, I hate it" in your head while you climb, see if you get a reaction.

>>397273
Looks like it was a ghost... or specter... or sending of some manner. Possibly from certain items you are carrying in your satchel.

I wouldn't be too hasty to agree with it just yet, such things are renown for twisting circumstances to their dark favor in exchange for 'helping' you.

You should remind the voice that you still need the mongrel.

Speaking of glowing things, do we have any spells that can interact with stone?

Realize Marisa that while you have a lovely figure both healthy and well fed that would turn the heads of any man you wished, and Garland is skinny as a rail, probably going to perish of exposure out here on the spot, Garland is probably that way because she cannot get enough to eat, being inferior, and your large buxom form with dense punching muscles is perhaps not ideal for all situations such as climbing a crumbling rock wall.

Slate 2012/04/03(Tue)15:22 No. 398490 ID: e52a63
File 133349174029.gif - (72.81KB , 700x500 , 3-26a.gif )

>>397450
Marisa could carve runes that she knows into stone if she had the necessary tools, but her runic proficiency is not yet such that she can cast earth-based spells.

Marisa thinks to herself, "Who's there?" in case the apparent phantom communicates through thought; no one appears. She realizes that the artifact in her pouch may be responsible in some way for this odd happening and peeks inside her bag, but there seems nothing out of the ordinary with the artifact.
Marisa's education at the academy instilled in her a critical mind, and so while she doubts in the existence of ghosts, living in a world in which there exists magical artifacts and an ancient language that holds supernatural power makes the possibility seem not too remote.
Marisa wonders if the voice she heard is not just her mind playing tricks, and repeats, this time out loud, 'Who's there?' There is no answer, at first.

>HAHAHAHAHA! AHAHAHAHAHA!

Slate 2012/04/03(Tue)15:22 No. 398491 ID: e52a63
File 133349176880.gif - (41.71KB , 700x500 , 3-26b.gif )

Marisa jumps at the sudden, chilling laughter and whips around to discover an avian, milk-white wisps of wind swirling all about it. It humorlessly chuckles between words, which arrive at Marisa's ears as though on a breeze.

>You, you, literally, really, already forgot? Hah!
>Of course you would.

>Mur-der-rer.

Slate 2012/04/03(Tue)15:23 No. 398492 ID: e52a63
File 133349178017.gif - (32.41KB , 700x500 , 3-26c.gif )

"Hey, catch!"
The sangsaloj tosses the re-secured rope to Marisa, which catches her directly in her face.

wait a sec, did that ghost just puch it so it hit you? aww fuck, what if all these bad things we were blaming the sangsaloj for was actually the ghost fucking things up?

>>398492
Take the rope, and mutter that you're not a murderer. Everything just went wrong.

Then go on and use the rope as planned.

hey guys! Xavier is back as a vengeful spirit! yaaaay. I missed him.

Mutter that you can't help birds being so damned fun to catch. At least he got to be a present on your supervisor's welcome mat.

Climbing up steep cliff faces should probably wait until we have established whether Xavier here is going to try to kill us.

You should probably apologize for the whole electrocution thing, because he did go out of his way to help you with the bald guy.

What were you suppose to do? Wait till he was killed and risk the psycho jumping out of the water? Jump in yourself and drown?
You even met his mother to inform her that he died, you didn't have to do that.
Now admittedly you were being a stupid bitch when you ignored his warnings and gave the human a chance to betray you so you should apologize for that.

Slate 2012/05/13(Sun)12:54 No. 411277 ID: e52a63
File 133693886929.gif - (23.89KB , 700x500 , 3-27TXT.gif )

Really realy sorry for the heavily delayed update So I'm changing how i'll update; writing up the written part of an update is usually easy enoguh but then i run into trouble with the drawn portion so this is how ill do update naow: everytime theres a new room or a significant event etc. ill draw a frame for it but otherwise ill just do writing for it. basically if i can get away with not drawing something without detracting from the quest then ill just post a text update. tell me what you think and if you all don't like it i can go back to doing pictures for every update

Marisa cannot see Xavier anywhere, but regardless she whispers to him that, while she is deeply sorry for what happened to him and she admits that she should have listened to him about the human, there was little else she could do than electrocute the water, lest the man emerge from the water or lest she jump in herself and drown. She also reminds him that she even went to inform his mother of his untimely death.
The whole time, the sangsaloj is confused as to why Marisa is simply standing with the rope limp in one hand. It shouts down to her.
"Hey! You are coming up?"
Marisa pauses, but there is no answer from Xavier. It is as though he dissolved into the air. Following one last glance about herself, Marisa grabs hold of the rope with both hands and tugs it four times (and much harder than she did when the rope first came down to her). Just barely satisfied that the rope will not give way when she is halfway up it, Marisa begins to climb.
"Hey, finally made the long journey! Are you okay? The rope, I hit you in the face with it, didn't I."
Marisa tries to ignore the sangsaloj's jeer disguised by a surprisingly genuine-seeming expression of concern as she pulls herself over onto the platform. She stands, and is sure to keep as safe a distance from the sangsaloj as she can in the limited space. The two are but a few more isolated chunks of stairway away from the mountainside entrance to the abandoned outpost.

>>411277
I'm pretty sure the ugly thing is so stupidly optimistic she thinks you are her friend. That's genuine concern, but I suppose we can just disregard it.

Nothing to do but try to climb some more. Any handholds or outcroppings to throw the rope on would be optimal... unless the next stable platform is within jumping distance this time?