Endgame

Something begins whirring in my skull that never really had before - though I couldn't truly identify what it was. Paternal instinct? She was family - the first I had seen in literal ages - but she probably would hate me for the rest of her life. Nonetheless, she had probably gone through a lot, and I just sent her into another hell. Walking alongside her, I try to bring u the only thing we had in common: "So... Uh... How have your quests been treating you?" Idiot. You're forgetting how to speak. Focus.

"Karie... The woman we faced in the alley... She was Violetta. Not Kayla. She admitted that she was little more then a pawn sent by Ulric to do his bidding and die, giving up her ideals after being seduced by Ulric. She even admitted to being little more then that monster's bed warmer. She lost her way at one point or another, and Ulric simply manipulated her mind - and body - to his heart's content. Even still, with her ideals gone and her only purpose to be sent out to die, her last word was your name, Karie. I'm positive that she still would've loved you. No amount of corruption would've changed that. She dedicated herself to become another pawn in Ulric's game, and at that point, I have no idea whether I killed Violetta or Kayla. Kayla likely died at Ulric's hands long ago." I rap my knuckles on the ice. "Could we just sit down and chat? No knives, no intentions to kill, no interventions. Just two family members talking. Oh, and Arthur, please unfreeze the door."

"I have no intention of dying, Arthur. MI simply will not pull a weapon of my own."

My arms fall slack by my sides, my voice calm and composed. A far cry from what was really going on in my mind. "Every woman that looks remotely like my fiance is not necessarily a relative - or so I thought, anyway. You two look almost just like my Sarah... Yes, I didn't have a single suspicion. For almost the entire time her face was covered by a mask - only when she was unconscious did I see her face, and even then I thought it was just a delusion of my guilt. What good would killing another family member achieve, Karie? Has anyone in your life ever encouraged you to not try to kill? That is the lesson I have been learning since Viol - No, Kayla's death."

I can hear the familiar sound of someone rushing out the wall, a barricade of ice slithering up the wall with a chilling crackle - a scroll unfurling. I don't avert my gaze from karie, but address the Sorcerer. "Arthur. With all due respect. This is a family matter, I suppose. Please, don't complicate this further. I have no desire to make a scene."

He's getting old, but Sorrow is capable of self defense. he could dropkick you right onto the deck of Gut's boat if he felt like it!

If Sorrow knew she was family, he would've either had Arthur just cast sleep, talk to her and jail, and bail her out later... Or simply walk out the alley.

I sigh. Instead of avoiding her gaze like normal, I lock into it. A million thoughts race through my head, but one of us had to stay strong - even though my mind was in turmoil. "Karie. Please, understand. If I knew we were related, I would not have laid a single finger on her. I would not have even pointed an arrow in her direction. If I didn't feel guilty, Karie, this glass?" I hold up my mutilated hand. "It would be removed. I'm guilty, Karie. I'm leaving myself permanently mutilated in a sick method of repenting. That is all I've been doing - all I've ever done for the past four hundred years! All I want to do is help others... It is the only purpose I have had for the last three hundred eighty years the only one I will ever have in whatever many years I have left. I thought that defeating a member of the Wolfgang would help Eubric, Karie. I never knew who she was. If she was... She'd be with us today." I avert my gaze, looking down at my trembling hands. Emotion after emotion bubbles up inside of me. "I have nobody left, Karie. No one. The person I did I murdered without even knowing the truth... and the other wants to kill me right now."

"This... This isn't going to be easy for either of us, I fear..." I stand up, heading to the door. I hold it open for her. "We'll have to talk outside, yes."

"So... her real name was Kayla... I suppose it isn't a secret anymore, considering I've told a few people." I raise my glass barbed hand, placing it on the table. "I'm 428 years old at this point. Ancient by any standards. I thought all of my relatives were gone - after all, I only had two. But... Violetta was my granddaughter. Or, more accurately, my great granddaughter. 17 "greats", to be precise." I look down, my guilty expression concealed by the glow of my hood. Syntax bubbles up, trying to wretch control from me, but I forbid it. "Really makes a guy feel old, doesn't it, huh? I killed her... I killed the only remote fmaily I had met in centuries... Before I even knew the relation. She didn't know that her murderer was her oldest ancestor, either... Only by presenting a sample of her blood on a cloth to Eubric's Oracle did I finally get the truth. After that..." There is an unnatural pause, and a sigh. "Too late. For everyone."

"Ah, yes, hello Johon. How is the dragon doing? Yes, briefly." My mind drifts back to a past quest. No. Mere coincedence. Not possible. And... yet...

I look downcast, wondering what my next move should be. I was fading, and fast, it would seem; I just didn't have the skills I used to. I was detoriating, and the gold would probably help this battered body of mine through a couple more scraps. Still, was it right to demand payment on the garment of my dead granddaughter? Now was not the time to dwell on the past, lest I put myself into another fit of cardiac arrest. I had to leave my emotions on the curb or die a remorseful fool. "Excuse me, once again, Boomingham. Apologies." I get up, cringing my teeth as my body literally creaks. Ugh. Over four hundred and I still wasn't used to that feeling. Sighing, I go over to the girl I sold the catsuit to her. Not like she knew my relation to Violetta. To her, it was likely just another piece of ransacked loot going from owner to owner in Heroica. It only held signifigance to me. I speak, trying to bury the stutter in my voice: "Err... Hello. Are you ready to repay the other half of the bill on that suit? Or are you not ready? Whenever is fine..." I sigh, my eyes glancing down at my mauled hand. "It belonged to someone who I really wish I could've known better, but is is far, far too late for that, I suppose... ...It seems I was never meant to have a legacy..." I murmur.

"Excuse me for a moment." I stand up and pen my name under Quest 77, knowing fully well I was a far cry form an elf. As I return to my stool, I pass by the commotion between Arthur and the dwarf. "Sir diplomat. We face plenty of adversary out of the hall. We don't need any in here." I raise an eyebrow at the literal heap of detritius and documents Arthur was working vigorously on, the pile being almost as tall as I. "Why the books, Arthur? Lending Byblos a hand?"

I'd either propose the hollow blade has to be equipped or you can use 1 hollow blade per turn. Unrelated proposal: Can we have links in the first page of the fields to the start of each hunting party?

I chuckle softly, pulling up a seat. "Life in general is that, I suppose. Me, I just managed to end a few more members of the Wolfgang... But I think the years are catching up to this tattered old body. Enemies I could snatch from with ease are proving far harder..." I give another guilty chuckle, but the concern in my face is obvious. My hand instinctively goes for my heart, trembling a bit - my beat was weak and labored. "I've supposed to be dead for over 400 years at this point. Guess the gods have decided I'm finally beginning to wear out my welcome." I straighten myself out, looking to the other personat the bar: a druid. "Ah, my bad, I try not to lament. I believe we've met before: Ellaria, correct?"

...*Cough*. Bosses that changed form were always a staple of my childhood, no clue why. Bosses are justmy favorite parts of video games in general.

As I walk away from the caravan, the distanc ebetween me and the Wolfgang finally got Syntax to calm down - his guilt once again temporarily submerged, I managed to assert myself over him. People walking on the streets watching my shambling figure would see a drastic change in a matter of seconds. My shoulders sagged, my palms were open, my posture suddenly straightened. A more caring and trustworthy man was walking the streets then the one who was before, they'd note, based on the body language. Do people normally read that kind of thing, though? I use trivial thoughts to distract myself during my trek back to the hall, sinking into a seat, scanning for familiar faces. I wave to a few, getting up and addressing them. A hard task, as fate would have it. They were all isolated from eachother. Maybe I was just desperate for conversation, considering I only said about 4 sentences to. "Ah, Arthur, Boomingham, Johon and... Err, Karie, was it? How have your travels treated you?"

>Locket to Mizuki >Scythe to Romulus >Neutralizer to Thormanil. "Well", I sigh, "That is another adventure for the books, despite my growing worries of slaughtering the Wolfgang. I'm willing to bet that Ulric has already found replacement for the corpses that line the highway. Good adventuring, Mac. Mordred, not so much. But you have my gratitude for the gold, I suppose, despite how absolutely needlessly ornery you are." I turn on my heel and begin to walk towards the hall, speaking over my shoulder. "Drinks at the hall, perhaps, my fellow slaughterers?" I say before walking away.

The rebellion was 800 years ago, BricksAndparts.

"Woah there, big and hairy. I hate the Wolfgang probably as much as you, but we're not committing mass genocide here. Let us not try to exceed our death quota by too much. I've been doing well... But I fear the years are catching up to me."

I walk alongside my fellow party members. "So, how has this adventure been treating you folks?"

It only expands to "possesed" tools - so if you only have the pickaxe, it only uses the pickaxe shield.

Necromancer can easily have their Critical Hit nerfed down to nothing, though, by simply getting stunned or slowed - here, the only way it goes down if they purposely do it to reap more treasure.