Настучать в бубен / Hit the tambourine: Глава 19-6

A meaningful deed has been done!

Camrad_RIP 24.11.24 в 11:53

Many came to the land of the kingdom of worms, stayed there, many tried to challenge it by staying close to the previous ones, and many wanted to at least escape from a nightmarish fate, more terrible than any other to be found, but even they had to stay together with everyone else, to continue a terrible and fabulous existence, which has no end and cannot end. But not you, because you managed to get away from there, to get away, remaining yourself, and for this you have a reward corresponding to a worthy deed!

Camrad_RIP 24.11.24 в 11:54

Received: one unit of characteristics to the attributes of Source, Power, and Spirit; two talent points available for distribution only to minor knowledge from the subsection of contracts with higher spirits; five talent points free for distribution, which must be invested in the same knowledge (if the number of talent points exceeds the limit of available upgrades of the selected knowledge, the extra points are burned).

Camrad_RIP 24.11.24 в 11:55

Additional reward from Liarat si Merrinal, Lady of Gifts and Gift-giver, loyal servant of Innelas Innelay: one characteristic unit to the attributes of Sensitivity and Spirit; one random elite meta-skill; three random elite meta-influence tokens.

Camrad_RIP 24.11.24 в 11:56

Five stats in total, the ability to add two contracts with the higher spirits, the ability to close any of the knowledge branches of his choice, and some elite meta-skills and tokens. Risk is rewarding, that's understandable, but the shaman really didn't want to take that risk again, even though his system reference stated that the deed he'd closed had been awarded such an uncharacteristically high reward for the reason that his deed was one step away from the next frontier of such rewarding achievements - a full-fledged feat, albeit at the lowest bar. Is this some kind of hint that he needed to get away from the queen of worms, or even the Queen of Worms, not to run away without a backward glance, but to pathos and epically slay her in direct combat? Maybe he needed to say some other retardedly pompous shit before the fight, eager to free in perdition all those who became part of the Queen?

Camrad_RIP 24.11.24 в 11:58

//“Fuck that! The world has never seen such idiots, they don't even live to my age”. - The shaman thought and decisively stated. His acts put him every time on the brink of death, but with heroic deeds, he liked even less than the famous brave soldier Schweik. - “Yes, yes, someone, of course, has to finish the terrible tales that are such lost ruins and what lives in them. Yes, yes, I do occasionally make my way into altruism if it costs me nothing or costs me not too much. But this particular horror story will definitely not be finished by me. Amen, fuck.”
Швейк
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Good_Soldier_%C5%A0vejk

Camrad_RIP 30.11.24 в 14:23

With a groan and a creak, he stood back up and began to move sluggishly, realizing that at this rate he would be in bed for at least twenty-four hours, but more likely for two. The result of his ordeal and the constant replenishment of his reserve in the most harmless way possible had affected him surprisingly mildly but the last chord with the repeated acceleration of the higher spirit had worn him down a little. With a quiet grit of his teeth, he managed to get into a normal position, feeling the water gurgling nearby, and, turning his head, found a full-fledged river just under ten meters wide behind him, but very muddy and deep, with an extremely turbulent current. For the next hour and a half, he spent the next hour and a half strengthening his defenses, creating a protection line, setting up the mundane aspects of spirit support and camouflage, and admiring the same tropical landscape. The only difference was that the magical background was noticeably lower, and there were more large animals. The death roar of a poor creature caught by a predator sounded loud enough to make him sigh and strengthen his defenses once more.

Camrad_RIP 03.12.24 в 16:09

Finally, after some thought, he summoned one of the last of the senior spirits at his disposal, designed to be summoned once for just such an occasion. Also a cover, primarily against magical search, including shamanic or advanced blood search. Just in case he left behind an auric cast, a full-fledged auric cast, not a maimed one at the expense of the Patchwork Echo, and the search for him would be very diligent. Stepan thought that was not enough protection, because he had a daughter of his mighty mother lying there, who might well be able to smell her now that she was back in touch with him. The young man now has no strength for aggressive negotiations or attempts to get away before this mommy starts to ask him about the condition of her daughter. And he somehow vaguely suspected that simply saying - here are your possessions, honorable, and I'm off, see you later - would be difficult, problematic, or simply impossible. No, he would talk to her first, discuss the options and, if necessary, erase her memory... but what was the use, if this world knew about the Tablet of Souls, and his grief-stricken partner also got bonuses from the generosity of the System. These bonuses, of course, will be less than his, just according to the logic of events and the girl's contribution to their rescue, but even half of what Stepan received will be enough to become a very noticeable leap. Suspicious to the extreme.

Camrad_RIP 03.12.24 в 16:13

The growth of aura indicators, moreover such a complex one, didn't turn him off, against the background of the experience even refreshed these feelings, but made him stop call and concentrate on his state and the awards. He left the increase of some branch of knowledge by five points for later, very much for later, and also stopped paying attention to the whole complex of sensations from the aura growing in all directions. He promised himself to check the quality of the improvements later too. He focused on the tokens and meta-skills as the only types of rewards that wouldn't burden him too much. It wasn't that his consciousness was floating or going out, but he was frankly slowing down. The strain on his brain was taking its toll, and that mental crap kick from the wormy abomination hadn't gone unnoticed. He felt like a boxer who had fought all the rounds but missed a dozen blows to the head and was knocked down a couple of times. Everything is humming, and floating, and instead of thoughts in his head, the monkey is banging drums.

Camrad_RIP 30.11.24 в 14:27

The meta-skill was called “distributed charge enhancement for meta-skill I”. It's really useful and really elite. He couldn't even believe it was given by the Autogoddess. The essence of the skill is extremely simple. For every three dozen points spent in the meta-skills section, any of the meta-skills that have activatable charges in them get an extra charge. Any kind, any kind at all. From clock or replenishing life with reserve, to gifting characteristics or properties on behalf of Her Milfness. It's already pretty cool at the current level, but this skill is pumpable, and the pumping limit is like the same Store. And yes, in the standard list of available to take for regular talents this meta-skill was absent. If to judge from the experience of pumping past skills increasing levels will decrease the number of other meta-skills required for the set of charges. This is already serious, very, very serious.

Camrad_RIP 30.11.24 в 14:38

After some simple calculations, the shaman found out he had exactly forty talents invested in the meta-skills section, including the line he had just received. He had pumped up this branch quite a lot mostly by quests, not by personal investments. Among the rewards for these quests, meta-skills were bestowed most often. So, one charge in the appropriate skills, which at the same time also updated all the charges at once at the time of receiving a new skill - this small but nice bonus. In principle, this line is worth pumping if possible. You pump at once and the clock, and both replenishments, well, and more Autodivine gifts, but it is so, secondary against the background of already available. Taking into account at the moment the fourth rank of the standard meta-skill of simple and not rare-elite is the limit of pumping. This way of increasing the number of charges becomes especially valuable.

Camrad_RIP 30.11.24 в 15:44

The first Token turned out to be really elite and most useful. His favorite, especially indispensable after a hard battle. Already once given and on the same day used to update the stock of summons and contracts, including even the summoning of completely similar in-function spirits to replace the lost or retired up to the bar of a strong spirit. Spirit senior and higher contracts were renewed and renegotiated, but new ones to replace the retired forever due to disembodiment did not call and did not bind. It's a pity because the earthling has already begun to look at the restoration of the skinny knight. The number of charges is different from one: “standard charge renewal of the shaman's contract book” had exactly nine charges. They could be used at intervals of no more than once every two months, while the range of “rollback-renewal” was only a month.

Camrad_RIP 30.11.24 в 15:50

The second of the tokens was an Autodivine token, called “Sweetly Passionate Dreams”, which had fifty charges and varied in effect depending on whether it was used on himself, a member of the group, or someone else. Acting equally on men and women, the token induced guaranteed and very realistic wet dreams for two calendar months, and each night the dreams would be completely different, with different women, but always women and only beautiful women. The victim is guaranteed to wake up in his own bodily excretions, as well as guaranteed to remember his dreams perfectly, and the dreams themselves are centered on the themes of soft and not very soft erotic domination of beautiful women over the sleeper - feet, sitting on the face, games with delaying release are not obligatory, although they are very frequent. What will necessarily be present in each of the dreams is the use of charms and mental subjugation with a very high reliability of the transmitted sensations.

Camrad_RIP 03.12.24 в 16:24

The victim, who is not the player, may realize the unnaturalness and impropriety of such regular, detailed, high-quality dreams. In which will be both completely unfamiliar and perfectly familiar to the sleeper characters, if the latter falls under the definition of a beautiful woman. But you can make a separate specification to make realizing incorrectness completely impossible. Yes, there will be irritation at regular changes of sheets and linen, but no more, nothing strange will be seen neither by the victim himself, nor by security checks, nor even by their personal psychotherapist, to whom the victim will recount his dreams. For individuals not included in the group everything will end there, only a high probability of turning even the most heterosexual girl into “(not) a slightly bi”, as a result of two-month nightly marathons, as well as the need to go broke on laundry. Things are somewhat different for the player or members of his group. At the end of two months, the victim gets a free level that fills the experience scale regardless of its completeness, as well as a free random little knowledge and an equally free property. Also random. And only once.

Camrad_RIP 04.12.24 в 07:27

Oh yes, one more fun detail. This elite influence can be applied not only by simply looking at the victim in the crowd, but even by the image, if it reliably enough conveys the victim's appearance, or even by memory. At any moment, even on the other side of the world, but within the limits of this world or other worlds close to this world. Stepan checked separately with the reference. In general, the thing is extremely useless, first of all, because even if he decided to strengthen his bloodsuckers - the token will not work, because for its activation the victim must be able to sleep and regularly fall into that sleep. For the same reason, this effect will not work on demons or other forms of higher undead with higher cognitive functions, nor wormy abominations.

Camrad_RIP 04.12.24 в 07:31

And certainly, the young man was not going to use this thing on himself, not one of the fifty charges. So he had to keep this token as a small weight or use it for small deeds. He could, of course, try to put erotic dreams on the representatives of the elven aristocracy from that memorable almanac but it was about as much use as begging Rodislav Gastoldovich Yanin to add points at least to a C-minus. Not even zero, but negative values.

Camrad_RIP 04.12.24 в 07:37

The third token was also marked by the Great Milf's favorite pastimes, it had only fifteen charges and was called “Muscular Beauty”, and it was the token that could even be applied, if not for some individual aspects. What was unusual about the token was that it could only be used on a single target, as it was normally only female, up to three times. The first application of the token embellished the appearance of a woman or girl, making even an ugly or plain girl very pretty, and also increased the breasts by a size or two and, as it is not difficult to guess from the name of the token, added relief, athleticism and at least fifteen centimeters of height. Also, this first use increased physicality by one attribute, which, so to speak, can already be considered a success, as well as the rewiring of reflexes for the use of a new body.

Camrad_RIP 04.12.24 в 07:57

The second application added another three or four sizes of breasts, more pronounced muscles, no longer an athletic maiden but a pumped-up lady, added twenty-five centimeters to her height, and increased her Constitution by two attributes. The third application made the breasts even bigger, even by the standards of the new huge body, the muscles became such that they remained at the very edge of where muscularity would pass from seductiveness to the category of very specific hobbies not for everyone. The height was also added, about another thirty centimeters, which, if you apply this effect on a woman initially not too low height will turn her into such a giant, which and on the other ogre will look down from above. Ah yes, the third application will give three units of Constitution and a boost of several points of knowledge invested in melee combat skills of a certain type. If the victim was proficient in the battle art itself, the development will move towards what they already know how to do as it is. The final result will match the level of someone who has spent a lifetime learning and honing the skill of killing and surviving in battle.

Camrad_RIP 04.12.24 в 08:02

In general, universal recipe for creating a bodyguard, albeit with a rather specific but still cute appearance. Stepan even found a peculiar filter built into the token, allowing him to see what the selected target would look like at each stage of improvement. After applying this filter on the still-turned-off Singha, the young man blinked, trying to get the image out of his head and checking three times if he had accidentally activated the token. No, it was beautiful, but damn it, just damn it, just damn it to hell, especially since there was one more fun detail that would prevent him from using it on the shaman or anyone else. The essence is that this change, first, gradually increases, lasting from three to five days, during which the victim will eat a lot. The improvement will last longer if the victim does not have the money to eat a month's supply of food in three days. Second, this effect is not normalized. In the sense that it will be clear to everyone, including the victim, that there is some not very clear and clearly unnatural shit going on.
Тацумаки
https://www.youtube.com/shorts/DwtPeIPuQ4Y?feature=share

Camrad_RIP 06.12.24 в 15:37

If it were possible to make the weight gain, height, and boobs growth as imperceptible as the effect of his other tokens, he would have improved Sylvia the first thing he did when he returned to Dantmark. Plus six to her Constitution, for a top vampire, with the power she already had and new knowledge that would match the bloodsucker's existing combat knowledge. But the growth of Malter, or anyone else from her nest, would be about as invisible to the whole of Dantmark as a parachute behind a cunning spy trying to break into the general staff.

Camrad_RIP 06.12.24 в 15:46

The only thing to do is look for a specific lady. Hire her, probably having rendered some very serious help, take a lot of oaths and promises certified by spirits, and only then upgrade, getting a bodyguard warrior. Only in this case, it will be necessary to look for a new worker far from home. So she changed and pumped up not meeting with her acquaintances. The personality will be remarkable to the extreme. Honestly, it's easier to do without a personal Amazon-Olympian in handy, than to solve all these little things. The young man tried not to think about the fact that Her Divine Milfness unambiguously implied the fact that her Chosen One would not conclude any agreements and contracts, but would simply take and solder the victim's brains in the right way. Only the thought that his namesake's tastes, under which all these tokens were issued, were so wide that he should have fallen into them, the bastard!

Camrad_RIP 06.12.24 в 18:53

With a sigh, the young man stood up. Checking the time he realized that it had taken barely twenty minutes to sort out the tokens and meta-skill, and activated one of the charges to refresh his shamanic summons, covering their position with additional cloaking groups of spirits, just as he was strengthening his concealment from targeted searches. He purchased a couple of the most ordinary mattresses and blankets possible at the System Store with protection from moisture and vermin by the powers of quality household magic and dragged sleeping Singha over to the mattress. Not by hand, though it would be a perfect occasion to grope her and get some moral compensation for all the experience, but by air spirits, covers her with a blanket and, a moment later, falls on the neighboring mattress himself.

Camrad_RIP 06.12.24 в 15:57

He used what little strength he had left in his exhausted mind to check himself and his partner, or rather their auras, for worm infections. More for reassurance than anything else. It was too obvious that the creature's power and magic outside its realm wasn't even weakening, it just wasn't working. But he checked anyway. Checked the defense-film of the elder spirit that did not break even under the will of the queen, scanned every shred of his spirit, and planted a few checkers of his own into the body of the sleeper. Her retinue was either dead or half-dead, having used up all their strength, and so would not be able to interfere, nor did she have the necessary expertise in quick summoning. Her cloak, too, was depleted to the brim, slowly filling up again and bringing tears of greed to his eyes. He wanted that cloak for himself, for himself! No, he could not complain, she had worked her gift faithfully, saving their skins, lives, and postmortem, but it still hurt. Well, nothing, but he has a token-enhanced mask! And stockings enhanced by the reward for the assignment... yep.

Camrad_RIP 06.12.24 в 18:57

An unbearably brief moment later, he was already asleep and dreaming a new batch of dreams, and the posted doubled sleepy brigade of spirits, the best of them, covered their dreams with an inexorable guard.

Camrad_RIP 06.12.24 в 18:55

He survived, after all.

Camrad_RIP 04.12.24 в 07:20

He is alive.

Camrad_RIP 04.12.24 в 07:21

Alive.

Camrad_RIP 04.12.24 в 07:21

* * *

Camrad_RIP 04.12.24 в 07:20

The flow of visions this time was particularly turbulent and jerky, constantly changing, reflecting the state of mind and psyche of the fatally tired shaman, who in these dreams realized himself even less than usual, only floating along as a soulless and thoughtless observer. Armies of ninja-pirates-zombie robots marched with forged boots, opposing attacking wedges of witches and wizards flying on broomsticks, led by a very brutal and pumped-up Harry Spotter with a wrench instead of a magic wand. Toad Pepe whispered ominously, demanding that they start Operation Wednesday right now, or they would definitely be late and not in time. Skyscrapers were falling in the flames of explosions and cities were burning, in the midst of which two giant combat hamsters were rampaging, burning everything around them with lasers from their eyes in an attempt to nail each other. There was a colorfully painted residential van trailer, in which a group of very stoned students were having fun, celebrating their graduation, except that this van was driving through open space and nobody was embarrassed by it. Sadly sighing human-deer cut off a piece of the name cake and looked longingly into the starry sky, where hundreds of thousands of lights of spaceships were visible, now and then taking off or docking with the colossal space port.

Camrad_RIP 06.12.24 в 18:59

The images merged into a room filled with stacks of papers, in which a very tired-looking, gray-haired old man, neatly cut, with a well-groomed beard and a keen, attentive gaze that had not lost its sharpness despite his fatigue and age, was sitting at a desk, almost hidden behind those papers. The magical monocle in his eye glittered now and then, imprinting on a special crystal separate fragments of denunciations or reports, and his hand wrote new and new amendments to the already approved plan. He was not unhappy with his work, the old man, but he was tired of it and would have gladly given his position to anyone competent enough to do it, and retired on a well-deserved pension. Fortunately, he had a suitable candidate in mind, who was also a distant relative, so the process of transferring powers had already been going on, and not for the first year. Would have gone faster, but they are both professionals and have clear ideas about how to work as a secret guard of the Noble House of Dantrel, and sometimes these ideas do not coincide. And then they had to argue, politely, thoroughly, and without haste, to clarify the rightness and defend their points of view.

Camrad_RIP 06.12.24 в 19:01

Some of the agents would not want to work with a successor who had trampled on the feet of their acquaintances and men. Others had sworn to serve the old honorable lord personally but had not given their oaths to the new mistress and would not want to give them so easily. Even an ordinary vassal treaty is not a bill of sale, it can't just be taken and given to someone else. And when it comes to the oaths sworn before the face of Lothar by those who have been living in the shadows all their lives and walking under an executioner's axe or a murderer's lash, everything becomes even more complicated. Some were ready to discuss the transition under the wing of the new mistress, simply demanding better conditions or loosening the choker on their throats. Others categorically wanted to get out of the game and live in peace. Some of them could be sweetened with symbolic or not-so-symbolic concessions, others had to be pressured and demanded, and others were helped by foul play with the use of means influencing consciousness or subconsciousness. Some could be retired, since they were so categorically demanded, others had to be persuaded and transferred at least to non-staff informants, and others were destined for a stone sack, interrogation, and an unmarked grave, as they had known too much.

Camrad_RIP 06.12.24 в 19:04

The old and perpetually sullen-looking specialist was very tired at work. He had too weak a magical gift, which he had never tried to develop much after he had found out that he would never be able to master it even with the full support of his family. The gift is weak, and the powers can't be constantly fed and fueled by alchemy, even expensive ones. He's been taking almost double doses of elixirs for the last few years, but the results are getting worse each time. If he continues at this pace for at least five more years, he stands a good chance of being found one morning at this very table, already cold and stiff. Rictus de Myrtin was a man of extreme self-sacrifice and ruthlessness to himself to an extent almost as great as he was ruthless to others, whether allies or enemies. But a certain degree of lust for life he retained, and so every day less and less of the duties were personally upon him, more and more of them were assumed by the protégé.

Camrad_RIP 06.12.24 в 19:11

It was the very same protégé who was knocking at his door now. He recognized the way she knocked. The tips of her fingernails tapping a rhythm on the door surface, a frequent staccato of sharp strokes. She could enter without waiting for answers; she knew all the keys to the defenses, and some of the defenses she could put up herself, using a far more developed magical gift, just on the edge of Rictus's unfulfilled skill at standing. Nevertheless, he waited for the required pause of three heartbeats and only then let her in, and she dutifully endured the pause. Also a demonstrative gesture. A demonstration that he respected her to the utmost by letting her in almost immediately, but that she respected him to the same utmost by not allowing herself even small liberties. Allysira de Fell enters the study with all her grace, closing the door with a snap of her fingers, and only here allows herself to shed the image of the haughty and beautiful mistress, reclining relaxedly in the guest chair.

Camrad_RIP 06.12.24 в 19:12

It was as uncomfortable as it could be, too soft and too hard at the same time, and it seemed to her to be the ideal of comfort. She was as tired as the occupant of the office. Even more so, for she had more on her plate. Above average height, with beautiful hair the color of a very dark chestnut, marvelous greenish-emerald eyes, a pleasant face with a stamp of noble aristocratism, an excellent figure, and regal posture. Here she looked exactly what she really was. She was a tired woman, over fifty years old, even though she looked only barely over twenty who was fed up with the company of stupid and even more stupid subordinates. Her dark blue dress is immaculately clean and fits perfectly, her elbow-length gloves cover her graceful hands. Her expensive jewelry, which is also a set of magical amulets, flickers in time with the pulse of her overworked aura. For a while, she just lies silently in her chair, a relaxed and blurred jellyfish, while her formal superior goes through the papers.

Camrad_RIP 06.12.24 в 20:20

With a quiet and despairing groan, the woman overcomes herself, adopting a look befitting her status and personality, and then takes the documents handed out by the old man, specially prepared and processed for her. The work of the very agents who, out of malice, principle, or calculation, deal only with the current head of the secret guard, but not with the future head. Of course, they do not refuse directly, and do not show disrespect, but, as soon as you go directly to them, then there are excuses, deficiencies, or even Endor's strike, when a subordinate does only that and exactly what was asked of them, following orders to the letter and showing no initiative. Tiresome as it is, tiresome! Yes, she is working on it, who re-bought, who re-persuaded, who eliminated from the sin away, taking advantage of the confusion after the recent calamity and the opportunity to pull the ligature by the neck to account for old sins, but still tiresome. Some of the problems had been solved, though, because one extremely insolent Quadroon with a quarter of dark elf blood who wanted to loosen her collar by showing formal allegiance solely to Sullen Rictus was no longer a problem.

Camrad_RIP 06.12.24 в 20:24

She so overflowing with pride and self-importance, cunning, experienced, and devious. She survived and destroyed three of her patrons before coming under the aegis of Rictus, and got caught on such a primitive trifle! It's not just the cosmetics you buy that need to be checked. You have to check the people you buy it from. Check if they have taken a cast of the signature of your amulets, selecting a set of influences strictly under them, imperceptibly passing seemingly reliable protection. After cute Riri inhaled the third component of the potion prepared for her at their next meeting, her honed mind began to rapidly dull and her will finally began to fade. To finish the processing was a matter of only a few fleeting conversations and one long personal meeting, unspoken and only incognito, of course, in front of other people's eyes they can't stand each other so diligently that it's a pity to ruin such a well-established opinion for everyone. But how selflessly Rizaïra polished her bud with her tongue at that meeting, what lightning she threw with her eyes, sincerely believing that in this way she was expressing to her non-principal all her contempt!

Camrad_RIP 07.12.24 в 09:18

Alas, there was nothing to boast about besides the claws had been launched into the head of the Quadroon after several months of searching for approaches. And the last few months were simply horrifying. One trouble came after another, failure after failure, and if that stupid case with the tropical birds could still be written off and buried in excuses, the rest could not. The uncovered network of influence of the damned August, or, to be honest, of his long-eared bloody slut from the cellars of the forest colleagues of Allisira nested under the wing of Madame Vibrisda, who had been repeatedly checked and considered to be completely controlled, could be considered a success. If it had been the result of her agency or a lucky hunch, and not a mere coincidence. The old woman had been unlucky, and if there had been anything other than bad luck, for rituals as reliable as Lie Eating don't just break all of a sudden, it was worse. So that assassination and framing were done intentionally screaming to knock a dangerous agentess out of the ranks of the game's chips.

Camrad_RIP 07.12.24 в 09:23

And someone made the move. Someone had organized it and strangled the wolfhounds de Dantrel and the wolves de Mont Ros, strangled to weaken a rival, not out of a desire to help. Day and night, day and night, he and Rictus worked, looking for those who would benefit, looking in the testimony and knowledge of Vibrisda and her underlings or the tainted ones for what had alarmed the yet unknown player and caused him to spend his energies to get rid of the old Maman at any cost. Seeking and failing to find, only to miss another blow, also unclear from where and how it happened. A blow that cost the city a master of magic, who would now have ten years to heal and thirty years to restore the lost pieces of aura, which were not sure that they would be restored at all. Costing five dead and three crippled weaker gifted, four of whom were full-fledged and experienced adepts, and one of whom was Miller's direct apprentice. Almost costing Miller himself, who only at the last moment managed to wrest himself from the grip of what had come to call instead of the usual - well, maybe not so usual - elemental of the Hardness.

Camrad_RIP 03.12.24 в 15:54

And then there's the reputational damage. We can't forget about them! A representative of a noble trading house was nearly killed by a mental attack. A representative of another noble house was missing without a clue, and this one was the heiress of one of Morgrave's most powerful gifted, who had the temper of a mad steppe wench! And Borshakl the Winemaker had gotten fed up with his, gods forgive the lady's inappropriate words, faggot whining about how he had lost his talented gifted mouser, and now there would be no one to get rid of the mice. And somehow he managed, the old manly man, to get through to her reception and personally hand over his petition for justice. He was so persistent that if he hadn't gone completely into trade, she would have tried to get him as a freelancer, for she needed such minds. She would have to negotiate with the guild to get them to relieve the winemaker of his mice problem since he had made his complaint to her publicly and justifiably.

Camrad_RIP 03.12.24 в 15:59

Well, they will work. They will call you to account, demand old favors, blackmail you with old and new sins, promise to forgive those sins, lie about forgiving those sins, and just lie a lot. Such is the work in their industry, nothing to do, it is always worth remembering that those with whom you once again dishonestly behaved, will gladly bite your throat, just show them a drop of pity. Some of them will literally tear your throat out, like the bloody Malter, who's been active lately. There was a reason why vampires were so interested in the events with that elemental, especially in the fate of the missing girl. Somehow suspiciously this situation aroused their active interest, if only by the possibility to start supplying their goods to the Morgravian wind chantress, who sent her daughter for negotiations, disguising her visit as a mere escort of a possible future fiancé. Well, or the honorable Maega, to hell with her bad temper in the same pit where her daughter fell, simply hired these bloodsuckers for a possible search. Not the most surprising outcome of possible events, a blood search few could do better than those who live by blood.

Camrad_RIP 03.12.24 в 16:01

Well, Rictus and Allisira would find all the clues sooner or later. But it was better sooner, of course, because every time she came out of his lordship's office as if she had been really fucked there, only it would be better if she had been really fucked, and not only moral violence, in which the venerable Herbert de Dantrel was a recognized connoisseur and master.

Camrad_RIP 30.11.24 в 20:06

A moment later, the pair of individuals getting along perfectly had already returned to their hard and thankless work for the good of man.

Camrad_RIP 30.11.24 в 20:07

One very particular man.

Camrad_RIP 30.11.24 в 20:07

* * *

Camrad_RIP 24.11.24 в 12:09

The world is blurring, spaceships are sailing through the expanses of the Grand Theater, reflecting the invasion of spaceships from the expanses of the Very Grand Theater, space striptease paratroopers are flying in combat centrifuges armed with combat poles, opposing the embodied idea of toxic behavior in the Internet, and from above, numerous girls are watching, who came to watch the victory of male striptease over common sense. Other images in these dreams are so far from understanding, as well as far from normality, that it is impossible to realize them. Some images are like nightmare visions and are simply not digested by the mind, but there are others, which gradually acquire understandable features.

Camrad_RIP 30.11.24 в 20:08

In these features, the shaman sees himself again in the middle of Backlands, but differently. It's not a jungle, but a wooded savannah, less green and more arid. This time his condition and situation are even worse than it was for his awake double recently. Not only is he in the midst of a wild and aggressive nature, but he has also managed to be there without being able to use his gift. The young man can't realize what he was running away from in this dream and why he used all available meta-skills in afterburner mode. But now he is paying for the temporary increase in power with astonishing impotence. Spirits do not respond to the call, the aura has shrunk to that of a normal ungifted guy, there are only meta-skills, even not all of them, and his bad temper. Most of the system currency is blocked until the magic channels are opened and chakras are tapped, but he can buy something even now. A bundle of quality household amulets against parasites, diseases, bites, bad climate and to scare away common and nowhere magical predators. Without it, he would just die here, in the middle of fucking nothing.

Camrad_RIP 07.12.24 в 09:32

Then he takes a spear, a simple one, enchanted for sharpness and durability, but no more, and on his belt he hangs the same machete, for chopping branches on his way. The amulet of combat-type protection allowed by the system is no longer enough, so he is left so defenseless that he is almost naked. He becomes no less naked a little later, stripped down to his pants, cut off below the knees, wearing only them and a string of household amulets. The heat is so hot that even the presence of cooling charms does not save him much, and there are fewer and fewer trees around, and more and more often there are flat and unmarked areas of savannah. He would have taken off his shoes, but then he was guaranteed to get his feet pierced, for he barely managed to avoid such injuries as it was. In the end, navigating by the sun hanging in the sky, indifferent to human suffering, he manages to get to the bank of a very large river, fifty meters wide, and a bunch of crocodiles on the bank warming their eggs in the sun. He walks along this river, and Stepan the Sleeper watches this path from the side so that he sees perfectly well the moment when a thin and short spittle dart strikes the traveler, deprived of any protection, in the back, hitting the place where the neck passes into the back.

Camrad_RIP 06.12.24 в 19:36

Without realizing the situation, the young man involuntarily flinches as if from a bee sting, trying to reach the stung place and immediately, after a few seconds, sits on his ass, looks at the ground with a dazed look, and quickly and without a struggle turns off. The dart turned out not to be lethal, but sleepy. A pair of figures dressed only in necklaces of some sort and straw skirts stop above the sleeping pale-skinned man, letting themselves be examined. Both attackers have very black skin, the lean bodies of natural hunters, hair braided in some primitive dreadlocks, a set of spears, a couple of darts, and a blowpipe, as well as not insignificant tits and those lush buttocks that women of this phenotype can boast of. Yes, yes, both of the Amazons who attacked Stepan were Amazons, and quite cinematic in the sense that these combative and unimpressive beauties were beautiful, not ugly. And yes, they had jewelry in their noses, nostrils, and ears, but without the fanaticism that could be found in other tribes of Earth Africa. After a short talk and a shrug of the shoulders, they tied ropes around the pliable and motionless carcass of their victim, threw it on the shoulder of the pair that had lost the battle in some game of rock-paper-scissors, and dragged the load somewhere to the west.

Camrad_RIP 06.12.24 в 19:38

A change of frame shows Stepan already naked and lying in some straw tent. A gifted Negro woman, clearly an adept of some form of witchcraft, looks at him. She is beautiful and tall, with a gorgeous mane of well-groomed hair, not dreadlocks. She looks at Stepan with various forms of magical vision and, for a moment, her eyes open shockingly in genuine surprise. She questioned the two hunters in much more detail and looked at the captive, who continued to sleep, in a predatory way, as if he were a very successful acquisition. After finishing her questions and ordering the same pair of hunters and warriors to follow the pale-skinned man's tracks, she dismisses them and thinks. This boy should not be in this place, but she could not just slaughter him as she would a man who entered the lands delineated by the Shabokadomba uss'aballtug, not after what she had seen in his blood, that state of the spiritual body that determines heritage and fertility.

Camrad_RIP 06.12.24 в 20:02

This place, the domain of her tribe, lies under the blessing of a mighty spirit, mighty among the mighty, who has long since left this place, but his boon is still here and still strong. It keeps the women of this tribe, makes them healthier and stronger, tougher and even more beautiful, though that was not the original purpose of the blessing. With a sound spirit, there is a sound body, and in a sound body, there is beauty. It was dangerous and difficult to fight with a tribe where the mother-chief and her daughter received a special boon of strength, and the mother-hungan and her daughter received the gift of magic, and there was no reason to do so. So the tribe lived relatively peacefully, hunted moderately, and kept their numbers about equal, just enough to keep the old blessing strong enough. Sometimes, on particularly good days, the shamaness-hungan could, could, could call to the great Nglama-Kagobadonto, slightly strengthening and renewing this blessing.

Camrad_RIP 30.11.24 в 20:12