You slide silently through the forest's mess of trees, sticking faithfully to their shadowed gloom, your footsteps careful and measured. You have a clear sight of the caravan trudging onward beyond the treeline, with its wooden carriages and its tired mules, sweating under the midday sun. The reverse likely does not hold true. Your gnarled, mud-strewn garbs blend seamlessly into the environment. Should they look your way, they would think you a trick of the light, or wildlife moving through the ravine.

It's a fortuitous thing—likely for them, rather than for you. It had been easy to pick up their trail from where the spirit gate left you, simply by following the group's boisterous laughter, celebrating what they'd thought was a job well done. Given the scarcity of the information provided to you, you thought it possible that you were dealing with professionals. Instead, you get a band of outlaws too wet behind the ears to even deserve being called amateurs.

You count twelve heads among them so far, though from this distance it's difficult to be certain. If you were to go in there and take them on all at once, you could likely emerge the victor while only a little worse for wear. But doing so risks the refugees being caught in the crossfire, or being used as hostages. Looking at the caravan now, the refugees appear to be bound and gagged, but otherwise unharmed. Your experience tells you that the bandits' intent is to traffic them, and it does them no good to damage their merchandise. Indeed—if your goal is to ensure that no harm comes to the refugees, then observing their movements from afar appears to be the safest bet.

And yet, something must be done eventually. If you were to attack them solo, it would be best to do so under the cover of night, when they would be most disoriented. But the ideal scenario is to have the reinforcements Myst promised arrive soon, so that you could overwhelm them with a numbers advantage.

Your task would be to leave them signs which will lead them to you—and consequently, the caravan. How do you do so?

*label whatplan
*choice
    #I've cast a series of minor thaums on the tree barks for them to follow.
        They wouldn't be much. Little sparks of mana made to take shape, gracelessly deformed, just shy of becoming a gout of fire, a burst of lightning. Sharp enough to carve a trail into the tree trunks, light enough that they wouldn't exhaust you to upkeep.
        
        And that's the problem, in the end. Any apprentice worth their salt can manage a single instance of this half-formed, misshapen magic, but it takes a decent thaumer to do so consistently, without delving too deep into their mana reserves, and without breaking the concentration you'd need to maintain on the pursuit.
        
        Have you done as much?
        *choice
            *selectable_if (thaum > 49) #Yes, I've cast this series of minor thaums.
                You've scrawled a thaum-burnt message into the grass where the gate left you, detailing your plan and asking the reinforcements to follow you, and immediately got to work. The tree barks part easily under your touch, the wooden seams coming apart like fabric, and you maintain the trail as you keep pace with the caravan's journey. The reinforcements you were promised will know to follow it upon reading the instruction you left behind, and you'll be able to craft a sound plan of rescue once you've taken stock of what you have to work with.
                
                *goto thaumpath
            #No, I've done something else to lead the  reinforcements to me.
                What did you do?
                *goto whatplan
    #I've cast Glyph of Union to lead the reinforcements to me.
        A minor enchantment spell typically used by trackers, the Glyph of Union pairs two small items in a magical bond. Someone in possession of one of the items would be able to feel a magical tug that would tell them, in rough, sweeping terms, the direction and distance of the other item in the set. It's entirely possible to cast the Glyph on a piece of rock near where the spirit gate left you, while taking its pair with you on your little pursuit.
                
        Have you cast the Glyph of Union?
        *choice
            *selectable_if (enchantment > 49) #Yes, I've cast the Glyph of Union.
                You used thaum to burn a simple instruction into the grass where the gate left you, placing the signaling stone dead center so that it's impossible to miss. You carry its pair in your palms now, and the pull you feel from it signals that the spell is working as intended. You're about thirty minutes east of where you came from—a considerable distance, and one that only grows by the second. You can only hope your reinforcements are well-trained enough to go the distance in time.
                
                *goto enchantpath
            #No, I've done something else to lead the  reinforcements to me.
                What did you do?
                *goto whatplan
    #I'll simply cast another Spirit Gate to link with the one I came out from.
        You made sure to take proper stock of your immediate surroundings after coming out of the gate, as well as the path you'd taken to get up to this point. You're confident that you know them well enough to be able to manifest the gate in the appropriate spot.
                
        A problem lies in the fact that each use of the spirit gate carries a considerable cost on your mana, such that transporting a large group of people through it is out of the question but for the most masterful of spiritists. A lofty title that not even Myst had qualified for, or she would have transported the reinforcements herself.
        
        Will you cast Spirit Gate?
        *choice
            *selectable_if (spiritism > 50) #Yes, I've cast Spirit Gate.
                It's a problem that you don't know when the reinforcements will arrive, and so you'll have to wait for an opportune moment for the spell to be cast. You've scrawled a thaum-burned message on the ground saying as much where Myst's gate left you; you can only hope your reinforcements are the faithful and patient kind. If they grow restless and decide to take their chances on finding the caravan themselves, you would likely find yourself severely outnumbered in this rescue attempt. That's of no concern to you, in truth; you only wish you could say the same for the refugees.
                
                *goto spiritpath
            #No, I've done something else to lead the  reinforcements to me.
                What did you do?
                *goto whatplan

*label thaumpath
It would be another three hours before your efforts bear fruit. You watch from the shadows as the caravan grinds to a halt, the bandits stretching their arms and hopping off of the wooden seats to prepare for their midday meal. A firepit is formed in the middle of a clearing, and they lay out pieces of hunted game to split between them. The largest of the bunch they toss into a spiced stew over the firepit, the scent of it piercing, the smoke rising far above the treeline. You can't help but shake your head in disbelief—it's almost like they're [i]asking[/i] to be found.

You're beginning to contemplate the wisdom of ambushing them here and now—clearly they've let their guard down, and there's some distance between their makeshift camp and the caravan proper, where the refugees remained—when you feel a hand grabbing onto your right shoulder, from deeper in the gloom. You grimace and jerk your body around, sparks of flame already forming at your fingertips; you behold there a figure with brown eyes and striking red hair, looking at you with intent.

*label yuintro
*choice
    #His posture is very much at ease—almost calculatedly so.
        *set gyusuha "male"
        *set yhe "he"
        *set yhim "him"
        *set yhis "his"
        *set ytheirs "his"
        *set yhes "he's"
        *set yvar 1
        *set yusuha "Yusuha"
    #She brandishes a smile as if it were an olive branch.
        *set gyusuha "female"
        *set yhe "she"
        *set yhim "her"
        *set yhis "her"
        *set ytheirs "hers"
        *set yhes "she's"
        *set yvar 2
        *set yusuha "Yurui"
    
The @{yvar man|woman} regards you with caution—[i]caution[/i], not hostility. $!{yhe} has ${yhis} index finger pressed against ${yhis} lips, obliging you to remain silent, before opening ${yhis} mouth to speak.

*choice
    #I kick ${yhis} body away before letting my spell form fully, intent on striking ${yhim} down.
        *set optimistic %- 15
        You realize with piercing clarity that it had all been [i]too easy[/i]. The bandits had been so flagrant in their lack of caution that you had never thought to check for accomplices, for shadows moving with you in the darkened woods. But if this @{yvar man|woman} thinks ${yhe} could overpower you just because ${yhe} has the element of surprise, then ${yhe} has another thing coming.
        
        You feel your foot connect with the @{yvar man|woman}'s ribs as you kick ${yhim} away, the latter letting out a yelp as ${yhe} crashes onto the ground. Your spell is fully formed now, a gout of flame crackling with power and furious intent. You're considering whether to simply rough ${yhim} up or knock ${yhim} out entirely, when a strong gust of wind suddenly blows in your direction—and [i]snuffs out your spell[/i].
        
        "Wait! Wait," the @{yvar man|woman} pleads, ${yhis} voice a harsh whisper. $!{yhis} hand is extended, the shimmering remnant of a magic circle extending from ${yhis} fingertips.  $!{yhe} pulls ${yhim}self up into a sitting position, cringing as ${yhe} paws at ${yhis} ribs. "I don't mean you any harm. Truly."
        
        You narrow your eyes at ${yhim}, making sure your suspicion is known. "Identify yourself," you say, staring ${yhim} down.
        
        "${yusuha} Mateus, at your service," ${yhe} says. $!{yhe}'s still wincing from the pain of your attack, but appears relieved that you've given ${yhim} a chance to explain ${yhim}self. "I belong to the Ishavak Church, in a manner of speaking. I work closely with the [i]ashai[/i]—Tahlia, I believe you know her as. I was sent after you by Myst. Surely she told you reinforcements were coming?"
        
        "Myst promised to send me temple knights. [i]Plural[/i]," you say tersely, looking the redheaded @{yvar man|woman} up and down. $!{yhe} wears neither platemail nor greaves, opting instead for a set of red, opulent garbs with flaring sleeves, a style typically favored among the Yotai. Yotai [i]mages[/i], to be precise. "You're a lone mage dressed in Yotai garbs. Makes it rather difficult to believe your claim, you understand."
        
        "I do, of course. You're well within your rights to be suspicious," ${yusuha} says, his tone amicable, if a bit uneasy. "Let's do this, then."
        
        *label shrubbery
        ${yusuha} looks over the shrubbery and gestures in the direction of one of the bandits, one separated from the rest of his group as he relieves himself by the treeline. You feel a tremendous amount of mana radiating off of the redheaded @{yvar man|woman}'s frame, feel the weight of it bearing down on you, as a spell circle blooms underneath ${yhim}. On the other side of the clearing, an identical circle manifests under the unwitting bandit. When the circle completes itself, it spits out a violent gust of wind which engulfs the man's entire body and launches him upwards and backwards, towards a large, gnarled tree branch that soon finds itself nestled within the man's torso. The man beholds his predicament with shock, reaching weakly for his impaled torso, before his body finally hangs slack.
        
        "I hope that was enough to demonstrate that I'm no friend of theirs," the @{yvar man|woman} next to you says grimly.
        
        You consider ${yhim} for a moment. What your new companion [i]doesn't[/i] point out is the truly indisputable claim that ${yhe} is who ${yhe} claims to be. Because for all that ${yhis} wind spell looks like an ordinary—if masterfully-wielded—working of thaum, the feel of ${yhis} mana is markedly distinct. Rather than the careful and calculated design of regular magic, the @{yvar man|woman}'s spell instead felt primal, an instinct of the world made manifest—a force as natural as gravity or the changing of seasons. What ${yhe} used had been no thaum—it was [i]arcana[/i].
    #I watch ${yhim} carefully, making no move to aggravate ${yhim}.
        You've no insight to what ${yhis} intentions may be, but it's clear to you that ${yhe}'s dangerous—or rather, ${yhe} will be, should you make an enemy of ${yhim}. You have considerable experience avoiding and enduring ambushes on the battlefield, and ${yhe} was still able to get the drop on you. That's to say nothing of the lingering traces of mana permeating ${yhis} form, or the garbs ${yhe} dons—typically favored by mages of Yotai origin. They seem to you as clear a sign as any that you're in the company of a mage.
        
        The @{yvar man|woman} notes your tension and withdraws ${yhis} finger, instead putting ${yhis} hands up in a non-threatening gesture. "I mean you no harm," ${yhe} says quietly. "It was Myst that sent me. She promised you reinforcements, didn't she?"
        
        You feel the tension leave you a bit, though you keep your guard up. "I was promised temple knights. [i]Plural[/i]," you point out.
        
        "So you were. But this and that happened, and they decided it was best to send me ahead," ${yhe} says. "${yusuha} Mateus, by the way. I appreciate you not turning me into a charred hunk of meat immediately. I know you're fully capable of it."
        
        *goto youknowwhoiam
    #I ask ${yhim} who ${yhe} is. If ${yhe} meant harm, ${yhe} would've just ambushed me.
        *set optimistic %+ 15
        Judging by the fact that ${yhe} was able to get the drop on you, despite your considerable experience avoiding and enduring ambushes on the battlefield, this @{yvar man|woman} is likely an experienced combatant ${yhim}self. If that were the case, there's no way ${yhe} would give up the advantage ${yhe}'s created for ${yhim}self. Least of all by going up to you and placing ${yhim}self directly in your line of fire.
        
        Still, it wouldn't do to let your guard completely down.
        
        "Identify yourself," you demand, your voice a whisper. "Before I strike you down where you stand."
        
        The @{yvar man|woman} holds ${yhis} hands up, gesturing that ${yhe} means no harm. "${yusuha} Mateus, at your service," ${yhe} says, his tone amicable, if a bit cautious. "Myst sent me after you. I appreciate you not immediately turning me into a charred hunk of meat, by the way. I'm sure you're fully capable of it."
        
        *label youknowwhoiam
        You consider ${yhim} for a moment. "You know who I am?"
        
        "Only the broad strokes," ${yhe} says. "You're a new arrival to Thulrum. The [i]ashai[/i] brought you in herself, or so she tells me. Made sure to stress that I don't step on your toes—for my own good." $!{yhe} gives you a toothy grin, and extends ${yhis} hand in introduction. "It's good meeting you, ${fname}."
        
        "Right," you say, hesitantly shaking it. "You seem to know a lot about my circumstance, but it's fully possible that you've just got a netter worth their salt. How can I really believe you're who you say you are?"
        
        "A netter that could pull a fast one on the [i]ashai[/i]? I'd sure like to meet them someday. Would save me a lot of headache," ${yhe} sighs. "Still, I shouldn't fault you for being thorough. Let's do this, then."
        
        *goto shrubbery

*set kyusuha 1
*set ryusuha 50
${yusuha} gives you a knowing glance as the pieces fall into place in your head. If ${yhe} hadn't already known that you were an arcanist, ${yhe} certainly knows it now.

*choice
    #"Alright, I believe you."
        "Swell," ${yusuha} says, grinning. "I wish we could've had a more auspicious start, but all that matters is that now we're on the same page."
        
        You nod noncommittally. You're willing to work with ${yusuha} for now, but ${yhe}'s still a stranger when it comes down to it. Now that you know the level of power ${yhe} possesses, it wouldn't do to get careless around ${yhim}.
        
        Just then, a new voice comes from somewhere overhead, and you turn your head to behold the source—someone high up in the trees, squatting on a branch with a clear line of sight to the camp. "That was needlessly flashy, ${yusuha}."
    #"Why didn't you arrive with the knights?"
        "I'm a lot more useful, as you might imagine," ${yhe} replies, shrugging. "I'm sure Myst had me in mind as her first choice, but the knights are always on standby, so she'd thought about going to them first. But i heard the commotion and came running, and well, here we are."
        
        You consider ${yhis} words. ${yusuha} is an arcanist, and one of considerable skill at that. $!{yhis} claims may be boastful, but ${yhe} can likely more than back it up. An arcanist as skilled as ${yhe} is, so familiar and at ease with ${yhis} own powers, would likely prove a stronger asset than a full platoon of well-trained knights.
        
        Just then, a new voice comes from somewhere overhead, and you turn your head to behold the source—someone high up in the trees, squatting on a branch with a clear line of sight to the camp. "That was needlessly flashy, ${yusuha}."
    #"I'm not sure why we bothered whispering if you were just going to do all that."
        ${yusuha} blinks at your words. "You know, you're right. A force of habit on my part, I suppose," ${yhe} replies sheepishly. "I manipulated the airflow so as to dampen the noise. I'm sure they've mistaken it as a regular gust of wind, or wildlife moving through the woods," ${yhe} says, looking over at the bandits. As ${yusuha} said, the group appears blissfully unaware of the ill fate that befell their compatriot.
        
        Just then, a new voice comes from somewhere overhead, and you turn your head to behold the source—someone high up in the trees, squatting on a branch with a clear line of sight to the camp. "That was needlessly flashy, ${yusuha}."

*label fintro
*choice
    #His stance is taut and alert, ready to jump into action at any moment.
        *set gfalco "male"
        *set fhe "he"
        *set fhim "him"
        *set fhis "his"
        *set ftheirs "his"
        *set fhes "he's"
        *set fvar 1
        *set falco "Falco"
    #Her gaze on me is sharp; I can't tell whether it's caution or dislike.
        *set gfalco "female"
        *set fhe "she"
        *set fhim "her"
        *set fhis "her"
        *set ftheirs "hers"
        *set fhes "she's"
        *set fvar 2
        *set falco "Flyss"

*set kfalco 1
*set rfalco 35
"Oh, come off it, ${falco}," ${yusuha} complains, crossing ${yhis} arms as ${falco} leaps to the ground. A gust of sudden wind blows upward underneath ${fhim}, likely by way of ${yusuha}'s manipulation, which appears to slow ${falco}'s fall and silence the noise of ${fhim} hitting the ground. $!{fhis} curly white hair bounces lightly as ${fhe} sticks the landing. "I got the job done, didn't I?"

${falco}'s golden eyes narrow at ${fhis} companion's flippant attitude. "You took an unnecessary risk. I could've silenced that man without batting an eye."

"I've every faith in your abilities," ${yusuha} replies with a wave of ${yhis} hand. "I just thought it'd be prudent for ${fname} here to know about our…abilities. There's no surer proof that we were sent by the Seat, after all."

"We could've talked to ${them} afterwards. You and I would be enough to do these amateurs in," ${falco} retorts.

"And let ${fname} miss out on the action? A fine way to pay ${them} back for all ${their} hard work," ${yusuha} says. "I should've known better than to expect manners from you, though. You haven't even introduced yourself, gremlin."

${falco} glares at ${yusuha} for the latter's jab, but obliges ${yhim} after a moment. "${falco} Mateus. I work for the [i]ashai[/i]—Tahlia Mateus of the Ishavak Church," ${fhe} says, dipping ${fhis} head lightly. $!{fhe} then turns to regard ${fhis} taller companion, tapping ${fhis} foot impatiently. "If you're quite satisfied, we should get a move on already."

"I agree with you, for once," ${yusuha} replies. "${fname}, can we count on you for help?"

You give the pair a nod of assent, bracing yourself for the fight ahead. What's going through your head as you do?

*choice
    #We have to rescue the refugees as quickly as possible.
        *set noble %+ 15
        Briefly, images of Merdel Village flashes in your mind's eye. Of white-veined bodies piled onto carts, of grieving mothers shivering in the gloom. There are few fates crueler in Arvanand than that of being born a powerless Arcadian, and you suspect these refugees has borne the worst of it. You want nothing more than to finally free of them of their fears, to allow them the fresh start they deserve in Thulrum.
        
        And if you must use violence to see that future come to pass, then so be it.
    #I want to see the full extent of ${yusuha} and ${falco}'s powers.
        *set noble %- 15
        At this point, you're relatively certain that ${yusuha} and ${falco} are telling the truth about their identities. But it remains yet unclear what Tahlia seeks from you, and whether you'll be able to comply with her wishes. If there comes a time that you'll have to be on the other end of their arcana, it would behoove you to know what the pair are truly capable of.
        
        You almost feel sorry for the pitiful bandits who will serve as your unwitting guinea pigs.
    #I'm furious at these bandits. How heartless do you have to be to kidnap refugees?
        *set emotional %+ 15
        The abject misery many Arcadians face from the moment of their birth is no secret to the Arvanian population at large, and you're certain that these bandits are no exception. It boggles the mind to think that they were willing to abduct them now, on the cusp of salvation, for their own ends. These bandits deserve no mercy, for it is clear that they have none of their own for the most vulnerable of people.
        
        Perhaps it is its own kind of blessing, that the first time you wield magic in this new life will be to smite the most deserving.
    #I just want to wrap this up quickly and head back to the city.
        *set emotional %- 15
        When you ventured out of your chambers and into the city, you had expected a quaint day spent breathing in fresh air while walking down Thulrum's streets. Needless to say, this day has been anything but. And for all that you're intent on seeing the refugees through their ordeal, you're already beginning to miss your warm meals and clean sheets. Was one uneventful day so much to ask for?
        
        You sigh internally. You suppose the point is moot, now that you're faced with two arcanists planning to wreak havoc on a group of bandits. If nothing else, you suspect that the three of you will make quick work of the situation.
*label yuquickthanks

${yusuha} gives you a quick word of thanks, before laying out the plan ${yhe} has in mind. "I can take care of the refugees," ${yhe} says. "I'll make sure that no harm comes to them. And if things somehow go south on your end, I can still jump in and contribute to the fight."

${falco} makes an offended noise at that, but makes no rebuttal. "Then ${fname} and I will take care of the bandits," ${fhe} says, meeting your gaze for a brief moment. The white-haired mage stretches out ${fhis} arm, then, pushing mana out into the air and quickly forming a spirit gate. Peering into its dark, swirling depths, you catch a glimpse of what lies on the other side—iron bars nestled atop a wooden platform, containing sallow-faced men and women who looks to be fully resigned to their fates. "This leads to the far end of the refugees' carriage, out of sight from the camp. You take care of the rest."

${yusuha} nods and gives you both a brief two-fingered salute, before heading off into the gate. ${falco} closes the spell behind ${yhim}, giving you a brief nod before moving at a run towards the bandits' camp. You fall into step beside ${fhim}, winding around trees and leaping over underbrush as you close in on the camp. ${falco}'s seen fit to abandon all stealth and subtlety, and so you follow in ${fhis} footsteps, prioritizing speed above all else.

You are made privy to ${fhis} reasoning mere moments later, as a towering wall of arcane wind erupts from the ground around the caravan, crackling with ominous energy. It immediately seizes the attention of the bandits, who gesture wildly at the phenomenon as they bodily turn themselves away from you. A burly, bald-headed man who you take to be their leader flings his saber at the wall, only for it to be pelted aside with such force that it lodges itself into a nearby tree trunk. You dare not imagine what would have happened to his body had he tried to cross the wall himself.

You're within casting distance of the clearing now, and the bandits are still none the wiser to your approach. Beside you, ${falco} brandishes a spear nearly as long as ${fhe} is tall; it appears ${fhe} intends to strike them all down from melee range.

*temp crowdspell ""
*temp crowdvar 1
*label spellselect
*choice
    #I cast Stone Graveyard.
        Stone Graveyard is a thaum spell that shapes the very ground into massive earthen spikes, designed in equal measure to interrupt the enemy's advance as well as to skewer ones unfortunate enough to be caught in their upward trajectory. Though it is relatively costly in mana consumption, the spell's ability to break the momentum of entire platoons makes it one of the true calling cards of any archmage worth their salt. Given the already-disoriented nature of the bandits, you suspect ${falco} would be more than capable of making quick work of them.
        
        Will you cast Stone Graveyard?
        *choice
            *selectable_if (thaum > 65) #Yes, I'll cast Stone Graveyard.
                *set thaum %+ 10
                *set crowdspell "Stone Graveyard"
                *set stonegraveyard true
                *set tcounter +1
                After years spent taming ${phant1}'s fearsome, feral power, casting a regular thaum spell feels like slipping into a comfortable, well-worn pair of shoes. The spell circle paints itself onto the earth underneath the ragtag bandits' feet, and with a low rumble the ground breaks apart and gives way to towering earthen spires.
                
                Two of the bandits are speared in the gut by the spires' ascent, while three others immediately lose their footing, their bodies slamming into the ground with great force. The earth continues to undulate around them, eliciting panicked cries and calls for help as they look. Briefly you register that, between the furious winds engulfing their caravan and the earth sliding underneath their feet, it must look to them as if apocalypse has dawned. And it is ${falco}, the white-haired reaper vaulting through the moving earth with grace and precision, who serves as the one who will seal their fates.
                
                You watch with a fair bit of awe as ${falco} leaps into a bloodstained dance of spearplay and spells, ${fhis} weapon piercing through flesh and bone with jarring ease, mana crackling in the air around ${fhim}. $!{fhe} has command over a spiritism spell wholly unfamiliar to you—several small Fists of the Dark Lord, from the looks of it, but ones emerging from ${fhis} back in a lotus-like arrangement. They aid ${fhim} in combat with brutal efficiency, some of them swatting away incoming blows, while others grip the bandits around their neck and tosses them to the ground with great force.
                *goto postcrowd
            #No, I think I'll cast something else.
                Which spell will you cast?
                *goto spellselect
    #I cast Zone.
        The mark of a truly great alchemist is the ability to rewrite the laws of matter and physics beyond the cauldron's confines, and Zone is perhaps the sublimation of that ability. The spell would envelop a small area and make it so that certain materials carry different properties within its borders. A quick look at the bandits tells you that they carry uniform gear made of iron and low-grade steel, and while the demanding cost of the spell would not allow you to entirely write them out of existence, you would be able to deform and embrittle them with relative ease. You suspect ${falco} would be more than able to take care of the rest.

        Will you cast Zone?
        *choice
            *selectable_if (alchemy > 74) #Yes, I'll cast Zone.
                *set alchemy %+ 10
                *set crowdspell "Zone"
                *set crowdvar 2
                *set zone true
                *set acounter +1
                After years spent taming ${phant1}'s fearsome, feral power, casting a regular alchemy spell feels like slipping into a comfortable, well-worn pair of shoes. A swirl of magical energy permeates the area surrounding the bandits, taking on a more opaque sheen as a spell circle manifests underneath your unwitting targets' feet. You speak words of power in the magical tongue as the spell forms a globular structure, keeping your eyes trained on the bandits' equipment as you do. Your command settles into reality with the assuredness of a puzzle piece slotting itself into place, and you know then that you've robbed your opponents of what little chance they had against ${falco}.
                
                The white-haired fighter closes the remaining distance with a series of great leaps, landing squarely in the middle of the group with ${fhis} spear brandished. Instinct bids the closest of the bandits to immediately swing his weapon towards ${fhim}, only for his blade to be punctured as it meets ${falco}'s spearpoint. ${falco} smiles ominously at the sight, appearing to understand the nature of your spell, before launching ${fhim}self into a deadly combat dance.
                
                You are forced to admit that if nothing else, ${falco} is possessed of formidable combat instincts. $!{fhe} throws ${fhim}self from person to person with what looks like reckless abandon, but ${fhe} avoids ${fhis} enemies' blows with precision each time, taking advantage of your spell to destroy their weapons in the meantime. Though you suspect ${fhe} would be able to overpower them with ${fhis} spearplay alone, ${fhe} further employs the help of a spiritism spell—one that is, remarkably, unfamiliar to you. It takes the form of several small Fists of the Dark Lord emerging from ${fhis} back in a lotus-like arrangement. They aid ${falco} in combat with brutal efficiency, some of them swatting away incoming blows, while others grip the bandits around their neck and tosses them to the ground with great force.
                *goto postcrowd
            #No, I think I'll cast something else.
                Which spell will you cast?
                *goto spellselect
    #I cast Glyph of Weakness.
        Glyph of Weakness is an enchantment spell designed to directly sap the target's energy, making their movements lethargic and the blows they deal significantly less potent. Though quite subtle in effect in comparison to other enchantments, the spell's low mana usage allows for skilled enchanters to cast it en masse, making it a particularly powerful form of crowd control.
        
        You've already witnessed ${yusuha}'s formidable power firsthand, and you've reason enough to believe that ${falco} is possessed of a similar strength. A Glyph of Weakness may be all ${fhe} needs to overpower the bandits, outnumbered though ${fhe} may be.

        Will you cast Glyph of Weakness?
        *choice
            *selectable_if (enchantment > 60) #Yes, I'll cast Glyph of Weakness
                *set enchantment %+ 10
                *set crowdspell "Glyphs of Weakness"
                *set crowdvar 3
                *set glyphofweakness true
                *set ecounter +1
                After years spent taming ${phant1}'s fearsome, feral power, casting a regular enchantment spell feels like slipping into a comfortable, well-worn pair of shoes. The spell circle paints itself onto the ground underneath the bandits' feet, its gentle glow pulsing like a heartbeat, and it disappears with a final, radiant shine as you bring the spell to completion.

                The effect is instantaneous: the bandits' posture slump forward as energy is sapped from their bones, many among them dropping their swords due to their sudden loss of grip strength. The discarded weapons clatter uselessly onto the ground, and even for those among your opponents still clutching their blades in hand, their movements are becoming more and more sluggish by the second.
                
                ${falco} smiles ominously as ${fhe} watches your spell take effect and ramps up the speed of ${fhis} approach. $!{fhe} clears the remaining distance with a series of great leaps, landing squarely in the middle of the group with ${fhis} spear brandished. The bandit closest to ${fhim} has already been disarmed by your spell, and can only sluggishly throw his hands up into a fistfighting form in response to ${falco}'s sudden appearance. It does him little good, in the end. ${falco} slashes him down the chest and kicks his body away, already beginning to strike at the others before the first bandit's body even hits the ground.
                
                Watching ${falco} in ${fhis} element, against enemies weakened by your spell, you are forced to admit that the white-haired fighter is possessed of incredible combat instincts. $!{fhe} tosses ${fhis} body from person to person with what looks like reckless abandon, but ${fhe} avoids ${fhis} enemies' blow with precision each time, taking advantage of your spell to fell them two or three at a time. Though you suspect ${fhe} would be able to summarily dispatch them with spearplay alone, ${fhe} further employs the help of a spiritism spell—one that is, remarkably, unfamiliar to you. It takes the form of several small Fists of the Dark Lord emerging from ${fhis} back in a lotus-like arrangement. They aid ${falco} in combat with brutal efficiency, some of them swatting away incoming blows, while others grip the bandits around their neck and tosses them to the ground with great force.
                *goto postcrowd
            #No, I think I'll cast something else.
                Which spell will you cast?
                *goto spellselect
    #I cast Possession.
        Possession is a spiritism spell that calls upon moderately powerful spirits to assault enemies and override their control over their own bodies. A successful possession would confine the target into the depths of their own mind, forcing them to watch as their body is rendered completely inanimate by the spirit's influence.

        While those with exceptional mental resilience would be able to overpower the spell, its low mana usage would allow particularly skilled spiritists to summon the spirits en masse, making it a particularly effective form of crowd control. You suspect that with a sizable amount of the bandits effectively incapacitated, ${falco} would be more than capable of handling the rest.

        Will you cast Possession?
        *choice
            *selectable_if (spiritism > 60) #Yes, I'll cast Possession.
                *set spiritism %+ 10
                *set crowdspell "Possessions"
                *set crowdvar 4
                *set possession true
                *set scounter +1
                After years spent taming ${phant1}'s fearsome, feral power, casting a regular spiritism spell feels like slipping into a comfortable, well-worn pair of shoes. Swirls of dark mist coagulate in the air around your targets, slowly thickening into dark masses so opaque that it obscures the bandits from your sight. A chorus of panicked yells resounds from within the darkness as it encroaches upon them, and it is soon joined by the ghastly, screeching wails of Possession's spirits.
                
                When the mist parts once more, the spell's effect is readily apparent: roughly half the bandits were unable to escape the spell's effects, their eyes growing listless as their consciousness retreats into the depths of their minds.
                
                "Possession," ${falco} says beside you, ${fhis} eyes gleaming with an ominous sort of excitement. It comes as a surprise to you that ${falco} is able to identify the spell with such confidence; more likely than not, ${fhe} is something of a spiritist ${fhim}self. "That'll be useful. I'll take care of the rest."
                
                The white-haired fighter leaps ahead with ${fhis} spear brandished, landing right in the middle of the disoriented bandits. The man nearest to ${fhim} jabs out ${fhis} sword at the sudden intrusion, likely operating on pure instinct, but ${falco} gracefully sidesteps the blow and repays it by jamming ${fhis} spear between the man's ribs. The woman standing directly next to him watches her companion's death with cloudy eyes, showing no reaction even as ${falco} spears her in the gut.
                
                And so begins ${falco}'s relentless carnage, ${fhis} form moving from bandit to bandit with seamless ease. Watching ${falco} in ${fhis} element, you are forced to admit that ${fhe}'s possessed of incredible combat instincts. $!{fhe} tosses ${fhis} body from person to person with what looks like reckless abandon, but ${fhe} avoids ${fhis} enemies' blow with precision each time, taking advantage of your spell to fell them two or three at a time. Though you suspect ${fhe} would be able to summarily dispatch them with spearplay alone, ${fhe} further employs the help of a spiritism spell—one that is, remarkably, unfamiliar to you. It takes the form of several small Fists of the Dark Lord emerging from ${fhis} back in a lotus-like arrangement. They aid ${falco} in combat with brutal efficiency, some of them swatting away incoming blows, while others grip the bandits around their neck and tosses them to the ground with great force.
                *goto postcrowd
            #No, I think I'll cast something else.
                Which spell will you cast?
                *goto spellselect

*label postcrowd
*page_break
In the end, it only takes ${falco} a few minutes to wrap things up. You land on the ground beside ${fhim} and watch as ${fhe} fishes out a piece of rope from ${fhis} pack and twists it around the few bandits who managed to survive the fight. There are three of them altogether, including their bald-headed leader. On the other side of the clearing, ${yusuha}'s wind wall subsides, and the @{yvar man|woman} ${yhim}self can be seen by the refugees' carriage, working on the iron bars which lock them inside. The refugees look roughed up and distressed as they whisper among themselves, but appears to be relatively unharmed.

You turn your attention back on the three bandits, who seem appropriately fearful given the scale and brutality of your assault. The leader of the bunch affects a rough and furious attitude, though you don't miss the way his gaze seems incapable of fully meeting yours.

"You've picked a fight with the wrong people today," ${falco} says flatly while crossing ${fhis} arms. "I hope you're prepared to pay the price."

The bandit leader scoffs and spits on the ground. "You're the ones in over your head. I don't know who you think you are, but you can be sure that you'll regret this."

*set ryusuha %+ 15
*set rfalco %+ 15
*set rtahlia %+ 10

*fake_choice
    #"Why have you done this?"
        One of the bandits look as if he was going to answer your question, but is silenced by a sharp look from the bandits' leader. "Don't waste your breath," he says defiantly. "You won't get anything out of us."
        
        "Why not?" ${falco} demands. "You gain nothing by keeping your silence. You think anyone's coming to save you?"
        
        "No, I know we're as good as dead," the bandit leader scoffs. "So you'll have to excuse us for not handing everything on a silver platter to our soon-to-be murderers."
        
        "You resent us for freeing the innocent from your wicked schemes," ${falco} says, ${fhis} tone carefully even. "Don't you think there should be a limit to your entitlement?"
        
        "It's no entitlement. And no Arcadian is ever truly innocent," he says grimly, his eyes trained on a dead female bandit a few paces off. It does not escape your notice that the wedding band around the man's finger matches the one on the corpse. "The lot of you are monsters; I'm surer of it now than I've ever been. Taking a few of you down with me will be the kindest thing I've ever done for Arvanand."
        
        ${falco}'s eyes are hard as ${fhe} stares down at the man. "Utterly unsalvageable. I'll grant you the death you seek so desperately."
    #"You're really not in a position to aggravate us."
        Two of the bandits hold their silence, looking instead to their leader to speak for them. You have to hand it to the man—he's inspired some real loyalty in his people, even after he led the lot of them to the slaughter. Whether that's out of genuine respect or deep-rooted fear, you couldn't tell. You suppose it doesn't really matter, in the end.
        
        "We don't have to do this song and dance," the man scoffs, still not meeting your gaze. "We've been in this business long enough to know the score. You'll get nothing out of us, so you'd best just lop our heads off and be done with it."
        
        *goto suppose
    #"I didn't know you were so eager to join your companions."
        Two of the bandits go pale in the face at your threat, but keep their silence, instead opting to let their leader speak for them. "Let's not pretend that you'd have shown us any mercy either way," he scoffs. "You'll milk us for whatever we're good for, then kill us off just the same. But you'll get nothing out of us, so you'd best just lop our heads off and be done with it."
        
        "Suppose that's what we'll do," ${falco} says, ${fhis} tone carefully even. "You lose nothing by telling us who you work for. Why hold on to some twisted loyalty for the ones who got you into this mess, when you could save innocent lives instead?"
        
        *goto arcadianlives
    #"Tell us who's backing you, and we'll let you live."
        Two of the bandits look up hopefully at you as you make the offer, but are silenced by a sharp look from their leader. "Bah, I wasn't born yesterday. If you were half as merciful as you claim to be, I wouldn't be sitting in the middle of a corpse pile," he says, glaring pointedly at the carnage around you. "You'll milk us for whatever we're good for, then cut our heads off just the same. No use pretending it'll be any different."
        
        *label suppose
        "Suppose that's what we'll do," ${falco} says, ${fhis} tone carefully even. "Wouldn't you rather leave this earth having done one good deed at the end of your pathetic life? You won't see a single coin either way, so what's with the loyalty when you could save lives instead?"

        *label arcadianlives
        "Arcadian lives?" the man scoffs, smiling wrily as he looks at a dead female bandit a few paces off. It does not escape your notice that the wedding band around the man's finger matches the one on the corpse. "The lot of you are monsters; I'm surer of it now than I've ever been. Taking a few of you lot with me will be the kindest thing I've ever done for Arvanand."
        
        ${falco}'s eyes are hard as ${fhe} stares down at the man. "Utterly unsalvageable. I'll grant you the death you seek so desperately."

*page_break "${falco}, stop."

You turn your head to regard the source of the noise—${yusuha}, who's come over from the other side of the clearing. Behind ${yhim}, you see the refugees begin to pile out of the carriage, the bars which had locked them in having been turned into a gray, gooey mess on the forest floor. They huddle together as if to protect one another as they take in their surroundings with uncertain eyes. You note the spark of fear in their gaze as they catch sight of you and ${falco}, standing amid the tapestry of dead bodies.

${yusuha} smiles at them and gives them a friendly wave, gesturing that ${yhe}'ll be back to attend to them soon. $!{yhe} then turns back to the task at hand, placing ${yhim}self between ${falco}'s raised weapon and the three bandits. "You and I both know that these bandits are nothing but pawns," ${yhe} says grimly. "There's something greater and more sinister at work here, and we can't afford to waste valuable intel."

The leader grimaces at ${yusuha}'s words. "There's nothing you can do to make us talk," he reiterates.

${yusuha} answers him with a too-bright smile. "Oh, I don't know about that. I think you'll find that we can be quite convincing."

The leader doesn't deign to answer ${yusuha}'s threat, instead casting his gaze away towards the ground.

*choice
    #"You shouldn't be so eager to resort to torture."
        *set noble %+ 15
        "Eager? Far from it," ${yusuha} answers. "Violence of any kind leaves a rather foul taste in my mouth. But if that's what it takes to make sure that no such incident is repeated against defenseless refugees, then I won't shy away from it."
        
        "You should save your mercy for those who deserve it," ${falco} adds. "Lowlives like these deserve everything that's coming to them."
        
        For a moment it looks as if ${yusuha} is about to rebuke ${yhis} companion, but ${yhe} decides against it, in the end. $!{yhe} instead turns ${yhis} attention to the bandits and attempts to bargain with them. "If you decide to cooperate, all you will face for your crimes is a fair and just punishment as decided by the Judicer of the Seat," ${yhe} says. "Despite the gravity of your crimes, given that no lives were lost, execution would be off the table. I hope that you won't make things harder for us, and for yourself."
        
        ${yusuha}'s words continue to be met with silence. The redhead heaves a deep sign and nods, resigned. "Very well, then. If that's how it has to be."
    #"I'd spare no mercy for these rogues, if I were you."
        *set noble %- 15
        "Certainly, dismantling whatever conspiracy is behind this is a priority," ${yusuha} says after a moment. "I hope we'll be able to achieve that without too much difficulty."
        
        ${falco} clicks ${fhis} tongue in disapproval. "You're giving way too much thought to the well-being of lowlives," ${fhe} grouses. "You should save your mercy for those who truly deserve it."
        
        ${yusuha} purses ${yhis} lips for a moment, but decides not to contest either of you any further. Instead ${yhe} turns ${yhis} attention to the bandits and give them a tight-lipped smile. "Well, I'm sure you heard what my friends here have to say. I hope you won't make things difficult for us, and for yourself," ${yhe} says. "The Day of Arrival is a joyous occasion for us citizens of Thulrum. I should hate to see it stained with blood."
        
        ${yusuha}'s words continue to be met with silence. The redhead heaves a deep sign and nods, resigned. "Very well, then. If that's how it has to be."
    #I keep my peace. What happens to these bandits is no concern of mine.
        "I suggest you rethink your position on this," ${yusuha} adds. $!{yhis} tone is perfectly businesslike and even, but you don't miss the hint of discomfort in ${yhis} eyes. You get the sense that ${yhe}'d rather not have to make good on ${yhis} threat. "Don't make things any harder for yourself than it already is."
        
        ${falco} gives ${fhis} companion a disgruntled look. "You're giving way too much thought to the well-being of lowlives," ${fhe} grouses. "You should save your mercy for those who truly deserve it."
        
        ${yusuha} purses ${yhis} lips for a moment, but decides not to contest ${fhis} companion further. "There will be time enough for you to ponder your situation on the trip back to Thulrum," ${yhe} says to the bandits instead. "I'm saying this for your sake, rather than mine: I hope you arrive at the correct decision."

*page_break "E-Excuse me!"

You tear your gaze away from the bandits to behold a graying, hunchbacked woman, her fine lines deepened by panic. She hobbles over to you with such haste that she trips on a large piece of rock; ${falco} catches her and props her up before she could hit the ground.

"[i]Kelzerai[/i]," ${yusuha} says gently. You recognize the word as an honorific in the Arcadian tongue, used to refer to the elderly. "We'll be with you in just a second. There are a couple of things we have to sort out here, but we'll be back to Thulrum in no time at—"

To your surprise, the woman blanches at the suggestion. "No," she says, horrified. "You got to—please, my Heesa—"

"Sair, that's enough," calls out a voice behind her. You turn to regard a well-built man with salt-and-pepper hair, likely somewhere in his late forties. He comes up to the woman and gently pulls at her arm, as if to lead her away. "We're sorry to bother you. You done us a great kindness today, and we'll always remember it, we will."

"Stop," ${falco} says to the man, ${fhis} eyes hard. "What's this about a Heesa?"

"My granddaughter!" the woman blurts out while swatting the man's hand away. "They took her when they stopped the caravan. I don't know where they're taking her, but she goes sick so easily, and—" she desperately grabs ${falco}'s hands and hold them in her own, tears forming on the corners of her eyes. "Please. Please save my Heesa."

${falco} whirls around with such force that Sair is knocked back, stumbling for a moment before being caught by the middle-aged man. ${falco} lowers ${fhim}self into a squat in front of the bandit leader, ${fhis} left fist moving to clench the front of the man's shirt. "You'll tell me where she is now," ${falco} says with eerie calm, despite the wild-eyed fury etched into ${fhis} face.

The bandit spits on ${falco}'s face in lieu of a response. ${falco} answers the insult by punching the side of the man's face, the blow so hard that it sends a couple of his teeth flying. "This is your last chance," ${falco} says, ${fhis} voice now a growl. "Tell me where you've sent her!"

The bandit stubbornly keeps his silence, and mana immediately bursts into existence around ${falco}'s form, ebbing and expanding like a violent heartbeat. "You'll want to look away," ${yusuha} says softly to the refugees, placing ${yhim}self between them and ${falco}. $!{yhe} gives you a quick glance as ${yhe} does, as if to signal that ${yhis} words had been meant for you, too.

*choice
    #I look away.
        You watch Sair as she sinks into the middle-aged man's arms, her expression equal parts afraid and hopeful. You glance at ${yusuha}, who looks to be deep in thought, likely contemplating the logistics of mounting a search given the sparse manpower. And then you look to the far side of the clearing, where the rest of the refugees are still gathered, their view of ${falco} and the bandit obscured by the four of you.
                
        But for all that you keep your gaze trained on everything but what's unfolding behind you, in the end it is still all you can think about. From the unmistakable smell of blood and flesh wafting out behind you, to the bandit's full-throated screams, sounding more frenzied by the second, it is all too easy to piece together what ${falco}'s done to him. A potent toxin of some kind has been used, the sort that can strip flesh from bone in mere seconds. But ${falco} appears to be dragging out the process, likely by administering it in sparse and measured amounts so as to prolong the man's suffering.
                
        Even knowing ${falco}'s intentions, and even knowing what the bandit has done, you can't help but feel sick in the pit of your stomach. It is a horrible, gruesome way to go—a difficult one to wish even on your worst enemies.
                
        A thud resounds behind you as the man's body presumably keels over and hits the ground. A beat of silence, and then you hear ${falco} repeating ${fhis} threat to the man's subordinates. "If you don't want to suffer his fate, you'll tell me where the girl is. [i]Now[/i]."
    #I keep my eyes on ${falco}.
        ${falco}'s mana continues to roil violently as it condenses around ${fhis} back, forming a large, column-like shape which bends down at the end, not unlike a scorpion tail. Dark scales form on the surface as mana ripples all along its length, culminating in a serpentine head with vicious golden eyes and fangs the size of your forearms.
        
        At ${falco}'s command, the dark serpent immediately reaches down for the bandit leader, spittle flying from its bright red mouth all the while. Remarkably, the man appears to meet his impending doom with a solid sort of resignation, as if to convince you that nothing in the world could ever shake him. He is quiet even as the serpent's fangs close around his body and puncture his skin. But a thick, viscous mist soon begins to waft out from within the serpent's mouth, enveloping him whole.
        
        And then the screaming begins.
        *choice
            #I look away.
                You turn around and look pointedly at the ground, tracing the cracks in the earth with your eyes and counting out pieces of rock. Anything to distract you from the fact that a man is [i]melting[/i] behind you, subjected to one of the worst deaths imaginable on account of his own horrific actions. The bandit leader yells out all manners of obscenities at ${falco} as the scent of his flesh and blood begins to permeate the air; it would be another agonizing minute before his screams would finally fall silent.
                
                Even knowing ${falco}'s intentions, and even knowing what the bandit has done, you can't help but feel sick in the pit of your stomach. It is a horrible, gruesome way to go—a difficult one to wish even on your worst enemies.
                
                A thud resounds behind you as the man's body presumably keels over and hits the ground. A beat of silence, and then you hear ${falco} repeating ${fhis} threat to the man's subordinates. "If you don't want to suffer his fate, you'll tell me where the girl is. [i]Now[/i]."
            #I keep my eyes on what's happening before me.
                It becomes clear to you that the mist seeping out from the serpent's mouth is a potent toxin, the kind that can strip flesh from bone in mere seconds. But the amount ${falco} administers through ${fhis} serpent seems sparse and measured, likely to intentionally avoid an immediately fatal dose. The bandit leader yells out all manners of obscenities at ${falco} as the poison begins to glide over his skin, red-hot blisters and boils forming where the mist passes. He writhes in agony as it comes up to his neck and begins to deform his face, his skull peeking out as the flesh there begins to melt away in viscous globs.
                
                The brutal display would go on for another agonizing minute, during which the man's screams eventually go silent—presumably as the poison eats away at his lungs and windpipe. ${falco} gestures to ${fhis} serpent then, and the man—still alive, if only just barely—is then spit out and launched onto the ground, landing with a wet, sickening crunch in front of his two subordinates.
                
                ${falco} turns ${fhis} attention on them, teeth bared as ${fhe} repeats ${fhis} threat. "If you don't want to suffer his fate, you'll tell me where the girl is. [i]Now[/i]."
                
                This time, they are all too eager to comply.

*page_break

The temple knights Myst promised you arrived through the forest path not long afterwards, headed by the taskmaster herself.

"I really can't thank you enough," Myst says earnestly, gripping your hands in her own. "I'm sure we would've lost track of them without you."

She fishes into her pockets for a moment, then, and comes up with a small pouch jingling with the telltale sign of coins. The bottom of the pouch is embroidered with Myst's name; it's quite clear that this reward is coming out of her personal funds. "You can consider this an advance payment. I'll file the paperwork with the Church when I get back, and I'm sure they'll throw in a bigger sum on top of that."

*choice
    #I accept the money gladly.
        *set noble %- 5
        "It was nice doing business with you, ${fname}," Myst says as the pouch changes hands. She looks more chipper than anyone surrendering their wages has any right to be, though you keep that observation to yourself. "And sorry again for getting you into this mess. I'll be more careful and thorough from here on out, so you can rest assured that it won't happen again."
        
        Having said her piece, Myst dips her head lightly once again as a gesture of gratitude, and goes on her way.
    #I tell her to keep her money.
        She blinks at your words, appearing genuinely baffled. "Why?" she asks.
        
        "What happened here wasn't your fault. You did your best for these people, and things took a bad turn. It happens," you reason, gently pushing the pouch of coins away. "I'll accept the Church's money, sure, but I won't take this."
        
        Myst shifts her gaze uncertainly between the pouch and you, but eventually relents with a sigh. "If you insist," she says. "If you change your mind, swing by the Common House anytime. I'll probably be posted up at the front desk, same as always."
        
        "I'll keep that in mind."
        
        Myst gives you a faint smile and, having said her piece, goes on her way.
    #I refuse both her money and the Church's. I only did what anyone should've done.
        *set noble %+ 5
        Myst's brows knit together as she hears your reasoning. "If that were the case, then the Seat shouldn't be paying my wages either, since it'd only be right for me to help set things up for our new citizens," she says, glancing over at the refugees. "No good deed should go unrewarded, least of all the life-saving kind. Please, I insist."
        *choice
            #I acquiesce and take the money.
                Myst smiles and drops the pouch into your hand. "I knew you'd see reason," she says. "Swing by the Common House in a couple of days or so. I should have the reward from the Church ready for you by then. I'll be manning the front desk, same as always."
                
                "I'll keep that in mind," you answer with a smile.
                
                Myst nods in satisfaction and goes on her way.
            #I tell her I'll accept money from the Church, but not from her.
                *set noble %+ 5
                "You really don't have to feel bad about it. It was my oversight that landed us into this mess," she says. "But alright, I won't belabor the point. If you change your mind, swing by the Common House anytime. I'll probably be posted up at the front desk, same as always."
                
                You give her what you hope is a reassuring smile. "I'll keep that in mind."
                
                Myst nods in acknowledgment and goes on her way.
            #I tell her I'd rather the money went to the refugees.
                *set noble %+ 15
                Myst blinks at your words. "That's very thoughtful of you," she says. "But I assure you, they'll be quite well taken care of. I know today wasn't exactly my greatest showing, but I really am quite good at my job. They'll want for nothing financially. Both I and the Church will make sure of that."
                
                "I'm quite well taken care of by the Church myself. Not to mention I'm more than capable of making my own money, as I'm sure you've gathered," you respond. "I'd rather they get the money, if only so that they'll have a bit of an easier time settling in."
                
                Myst heaves a long sigh, but nods understandingly. "If that's what you want," she says. "If you change your mind, swing by the Common House within the week. I'll get everything sorted out with the Seat."
                
                You mutter a thanks to her, and Myst goes on her way.
You catch her walking up to ${falco} in your peripheral vision, likely to discuss what their next steps will be, but your sight is soon obscured by ${yusuha}'s tall and lanky frame.

"Thanks for the help back there," ${yhe} says warmly. "Can I ask what your plans will be? If you're looking to get back to the city, I'm sure Myst will be happy to draw up a spirit gate for you."

*temp shortdishub1 false
*temp shortdishubcount 0
*label shortdishub
*if (shortdishubcount = 3)
    *goto postdishub
*else
    *goto dishubongoing

*label dishubongoing
*choice
    *disable_reuse #"And what about the missing girl?"
        *set shortdishub1 true
        *set shortdishubcount +1
        You cast a glance towards Sair, the old woman who had begged for her granddaughter's rescue. She wrings her hands together as she watches the flurry of knights milling about the clearing, desperation plain in her eyes; you can only imagine how concerned she must be. One of the knights gently tells her that there's nothing to worry about, that between the intel you gleaned from the bandits and the expert tracker they have among their numbers, her granddaughter will be located in no time.
        
        ${yusuha}'s gaze follows your own, ${yhis} lips pursing as it lands upon the desperate grandmother, who hangs on to every one of the knight's reassurances like a lifeline. "I think ${falco}'s planning on taking the knights with ${fhim} to go search for the girl. They're quite well-experienced in this sort of thing—a bit of a grim specialty to have, but one that's necessary, for us Arcadians," ${yusuha} says wrily. "You don't have to worry. I'm sure they'll have the situation handled."
        
        You ponder ${yhis} words for a moment. "And what about you? Not going with them?"
        
        "Afraid not," ${yusuha} says, shrugging. "A festival as big as the Day of Arrival tends to draw a lot of unwanted attention; one of us will have to be around to keep that from becoming a problem. Besides, there's always the chance that this was just a distraction for some other, more sinister plot. It wouldn't do for us to leave Thulrum completely unattended."
        
        "You're speaking as if Thulrum has no city guards."
        
        "Oh, they're there. And they do a good job of keeping the peace, generally," ${yusuha} says. "But they're also woefully understaffed, given how sparse Thulrum's resources are. Couple that with the fact that we have no shortage of powerful enemies, and…well, we'd be remiss not to err on the side of caution."
        *goto shortdishub
    *disable_reuse #"Who exactly are you and ${falco}?"
        *set shortdishubcount +1
        "Officially, we're low-ranking members of the Ishavak Church. ${falco}'s a junior instructor for the Ishavak knights-templar, while I'm a scribe of the Seat of Isha," ${yusuha} says. "That's what it says on the Church's records, anyway. Truth is, we're arcanists—powerful ones, at that, largely owing to the fact that we're descended from Arcadia's Mateus bloodline."
        
        Mateus. It's a name that anyone even remotely familiar with Arcadian history would be able to recognize, as it belonged to the dynast bloodline which ruled Arcadia at the time of its fall. While much of Arcadia's official records had perished during Param and Salantira's sacking of its cities, the prevailing scholarly opinion was that many of Arcadia's most powerful arcanists belonged to the Mateus clan. It appears that theory had some mettle to it, judging by the awe-inspiring strength that both ${falco} and ${yusuha} displayed.
        
        (One that you share, you think but do not say. If Thaubal Altinier is to be believed, you are a Mateus yourself. It stands to reason; were every arcanist in Old Arcadia capable of wielding powers on the caliber of ${phant1}'s, would it have ever fallen to begin with?)
        
        "And what exactly do you do for the Church?" you ask. "In your unofficial capacity, I mean."
        
        "All sorts of things, really. Whenever the [i]ashai[/i] needs something to be done, we're typically the ones she calls up. We help keep the peace in Thulrum when things get a bit too rowdy, carry out investigations, even do the odd diplomacy job every now and again," ${yhe} explains. "Of course, some of our missions are less savory than others, as you've seen for yourself." ${yusuha} casts a glance at the husk that was once the bandit leader, now deformed beyond recognition. "But it's all necessary work. We ensure that Thulrum becomes a place where Arcadians can live safe and dignified lives, and we take pride in that."
        
        You consider ${yhis} words. "You said you report to the [i]ashai[/i]?"
        
        "We do. She's something of a strategist, really has a knack for seeing the big picture," ${yusuha} answers. "She's pretty much the reason why such a small, fledgling state like ours has been able to make such significant leaps in recent years. ${falco} and I are happy to help her out whenever she has need of us."
    *disable_reuse *if (shortdishub1 = true) #"You mentioned that Thulrum has powerful enemies. What do you mean by that?"
        *set shortdishubcount +1
        "Emancipation is deeply unpopular work, as you might imagine," ${yusuha} sighs. "Slavery of Arcadians have long since been written out of Parami and Salantir laws, but most of them are still treated as third-class citizens across Arvanand. They receive a pittance in wages in exchange for backbreaking work—slavery in spirit, if not in name. And no one benefits from it more than the countries' nobility."
        
        You nod in understanding. "So they resent Thulrum. For providing an alternative."
        
        "And a vision to go with it," ${yusuha} says. "We've made no secret of our intention to make Thulrum a safe haven for as many Arcadians as the city could possibly fit. And every year we make great strides towards achieving that, harming the nobilities' interests in the process. There's even room to argue that were it not for Param and Salantira warring against one another, Thulrum might have been in the crosshairs instead."
        *choice
            #"Surely they wouldn't go that far."
                *set optimistic %+ 15
                "Wouldn't they?" ${yusuha} asks. "From the magic stone mines to the wheat fields, so much of Param and Salantira's economies rely on cheap Arcadian labor. Our existence is a threat to that system, and we haven't shied away from saying that we intend to go even further. We're already a thorn in these nobles' side, and they're only all too eager to nip us in the bud."
                
                "Both Param and Salantira has outlawed paying Arcadians any less than their counterparts," you point out.
                
                "A welcome change, but one that's poorly enforced. The common practice is to set the wages so low that only Arcadians would ever accept it. And unfortunately, that's exactly what happens." ${yusuha} catches ${yhim}self then, and you 
            #"I wouldn't be surprised if they're [i]still[/i] advocating for an escalation of some sort."
                *set optimistic %- 15
                "Much as I hate to say it, you're correct. If our sources are to be believed, anyway," ${yusuha} says. "Given how brutal the war had been on Param and Salantira both, I doubt that it'll get any traction in the nobles' councils any time soon. But that only means that the nobles will resort to more underhanded methods, like kidnapping and banditry. As you might imagine, it's more important than ever that we remain vigilant."

*label postdishub
*page_break "${yusuha}, we're leaving now."

${falco} comes up behind you with a grim expression, evidently having finished ${fhis} talk with Myst. ${yusuha} turns to regard ${fhim}. "Who are you taking with you?"

${falco} grimaces for a moment before answering. "I'll have to take all of the knights here."

${yusuha} nods, clearly having expected the answer. "That's probably wise. If I know you at all, I know you were temped to take a stab at it on your own. Glad to see you've managed to listen to reason this time around."

It's the answer you had expected, too. To hear the bandits tell it, Heesa had been taken away by a member of the Yerefan Serpents—a notorious group of scoundrels operating along the Parami-Salantir border. While both the Parami and Salantir crowns consider them to be enemies of the state, many unscrupulous nobles actually deal with them in secret. The Serpents' widespread influence, absolute commitment to discretion, and decentralized command structure makes dismantling the organization a truly herculean task. As such, they are considered one of the most ideal groups to contract for those who could afford their prices—a fact that the organization's leaders have leveraged to bring some truly outstanding fighters into their fold.

As per the bandits' testimony, it is one of these fighters who now has Heesa in captivity. And if ${falco} wishes to free the girl, ${fhe} will have to invade Lenas's alleged domain far to the east of Thulrum, within Parami borders. She's said to have thirty or so subordinates under her command, and her ranks may yet be bolstered still by whoever had decided to contract her. Even at your prime, you would have been hard-pressed to prevail against such numbers; ${falco} would be a fool to not make use of every possible resource ${fhe}'s privy to.

*page_break

"You'll have to be on high alert," ${falco} warns. "Between this and…the [i]ashai's[/i] other operation, Thulrum is very vulnerable right now. And this whole caravan business was incredibly sloppy work—almost as if someone [i]wants[/i] us out of the city. If someone is looking to attack, now would be the best time to do it."

"If someone heard you, they might think [i]I'm[/i] the one tasked with waltzing right into a bandit stronghold," ${yusuha} says, waving ${fhim} off. "I'll keep an eye out for any irregularities, of course. Just don't worry too much about Thulrum while you're gone, hm? I'll be around, and so will the [i]ashai[/i]. We'll be quite alright."

${falco} holds ${yusuha}'s gaze for a moment longer before sighing in resignation. "Alright. I'll make sure to return with the girl quickly," ${fhe} says. ${falco} then turns to the knights Myst had brought with her and calls them up; they stand immediately to attention, lining up in neat columns in front of ${falco}.

"We make for the stronghold right away," ${fhe} says. "Heesa was taken away via spirit gate, so Gren will have to be in charge of tracking. In the meantime, I expect everyone else to…"

"Let's leave ${fhim} to it," Myst says, appearing next to her ${yusuha}. "${fname}, you good to come back now? I still have a lot of things to tend to in the Common House, so if it's alright with you, I'd like to return quickly."

You make a noise of assent, casting a glance at ${yusuha} out the corner of your eyes as you do. "You go ahead; I'll be sticking with the caravan for now. I'll make sure these people get to town safely," ${yusuha} says with a smile. "I won't be long—we're only three hours or so outside of Thulrum, after all. I'll see if I can't find you during the festival. I'd be happy to show you around, as thanks for your help today."

*temp yufest true

*choice
    #"Actually, need a hand with the escort? I don't mind walking back to town."
        ${yusuha} blinks at your offer. "Are you sure? Don't get me wrong—I'd love your company, of course, but most people would jump at the chance to skip a three-hour ride, you know? And really, you don't have to be concerned about the caravan's safety. They're in good hands, I assure you."
        *choice
            #"I'm not in any rush to get back. I could use some peace and quiet, actually."
                *set charming %- 15
                "Is that right? Well, I'd be happy to have you," ${yusuha} says, ${yhis} lips pulling into a bright smile. "Then I'll get the caravan ready. We'll be riding up front; meet me there when you're ready to leave."
                
                *goto caravan
            #"I'd still like to tag along, just in case. They've been through enough as is."
                *set noble %+ 15
                "Then I'd be happy to have you," ${yusuha} says, ${yhis} lips pulling into a bright smile. "I'll get the caravan ready. We'll be riding up front; meet me there when you're ready to leave."
                *goto caravan
            #"I'd just like to spend a little time with you, if you're alright with it."
                *set ryusuha %+ 10
                "Oh," ${yusuha} says, ${yhis} lips pulling into a bright smile. "I'd be happy to have you. I'll, uh, I'll get the caravan ready. We'll be riding up front; meet me there when you're ready to leave."
                *goto caravan
            #"Well, if you're sure."
                "Positive. But I do appreciate the thought, ${fname}," ${yusuha} says with a smile. "Have a safe trip back. And please do enjoy the festival."
                *goto backtocity
    #"That sounds good. I look forward to it."
        ${yusuha} laughs at that, the sound cheery and bright. "I feel pressured now, but I suppose I set myself up for that," ${yusuha} says. "I'll find you tonight, ${fname}; in the meantime, I hope you enjoy the festival."
        *goto backtocity
    #"I'd prefer to look around on my own."
        *set yufest false
        ${yusuha}'s lips twist into a mock pout at your answer, but ${yhe} does not contest it. "Your wish is my command," ${yhe} says. "I hope you have a good time regardless."
        *goto backtocity

*label enchantpath
An hour would pass before your efforts bear fruit, and you begin to feel movement on the other end of the Glyph. Curiously, whoever holds the paired stone does not move very far at all—as if they wanted to signal they understood your gambit, but refused to take the natural course of action: following you.

You contemplate the wisdom in terminating your pursuit. But ultimately, you are able to overpower the bandits should push comes to shove. And if your reckless action resulted in an outcome that is less than ideal, then Tahlia and her minions only have themselves to blame.

Two more hours pass before the caravan finally grinds to a halt. You watch from the shadows as the bandits stretch their arms and hop off of the wooden seats to prepare for their midday meal. A firepit is formed in the middle of a clearing, and they lay out pieces of hunted game to split between them. The largest of the bunch they toss into a spiced stew over the firepit, the scent of it piercing, the smoke rising far above the treeline. You can't help but shake your head in disbelief—it's almost like they're [i]asking[/i] to be found.

You consider the possibility of ambushing them here and now—clearly they've let their guard down, and there's some distance between their makeshift camp and the caravan proper, where the refugees remained—when the stone imbued with the Glyph of Union leaps out of your hand and hurls itself into the woods with great force. You blink in surprise; such a reaction points to the stone's pair having been [i]teleported[/i] from its original position, likely while still in the hands of the temple knights. You look around urgently in hopes of spotting them, and instead are surprised when a hand grabs onto your right shoulder, from deeper in the gloom. You grimace and jerk your body around, sparks of flame already forming at your fingertips; you behold there a figure with brown eyes and striking red hair, looking at you with intent.

*goto yuintro

*label spiritpath
It would be another three hours before you find your chance. You watch from the shadows as the caravan grinds to a halt, the bandits stretching their arms and hopping off of the wooden seats to prepare for their midday meal. A firepit is formed in the middle of a clearing, and they lay out pieces of hunted game to split between them. The largest of the bunch they toss into a spiced stew over the firepit, the scent of it piercing, the smoke rising far above the treeline. You can't help but shake your head in disbelief—it's almost as if they're [i]asking[/i] to be found.

You venture deeper into the trees to find a particularly shadowed place, and begin working on your Spirit Gate spell. Mana unfurls around you in great rivulets, feeding into a spell circle which crackles in the air with violent energy, before finally twisting into a gate. You peer expectantly into its depths, bracing for the knights you were promised by Myst. You are surprised to find in their stead a single person—remarkably tall, with brown eyes and striking red hair, who regards you with a sheepish kind of caution.

*choice
    #His posture is very much at ease—almost calculatedly so.
        *set gyusuha "male"
        *set yhe "he"
        *set yhim "him"
        *set yhis "his"
        *set ytheirs "his"
        *set yhes "he's"
        *set yvar 1
        *set yusuha "Yusuha"
    #She brandishes a smile as if it were an olive branch.
        *set gyusuha "female"
        *set yhe "she"
        *set yhim "her"
        *set yhis "her"
        *set ytheirs "hers"
        *set yhes "she's"
        *set yvar 2
        *set yusuha "Yurui"
    
The @{yvar man|woman} gingerly steps through the portal, ${yhis} eyes never leaving you as ${yhe} does. Though ${yhis} friendly smile never falters, you don't miss the hawklike quality of ${yhis} eyes, and the tension in ${yhis} form. You get the sense that if you were to make any sudden movements, ${yhe} may well react in kind.

And yet, unmistakably, ${yhe} appears to hold no animosity towards you, and does not intend to strike you first. Whether that's to ${yhis} credit or detriment, only you can decide.

*choice
    #I cast an attack spell immediately, intent on striking ${yhim} down.
        *set optimistic %- 15
        You realize with piercing clarity that it had all been [i]too easy[/i]. The bandits had been so flagrant in their lack of caution that you had never thought to check for accomplices, for shadows moving with you in the darkened woods. But if this @{yvar man|woman} thinks ${yhe} could overpower you just because ${yhe} has the element of surprise, then ${yhe} has another thing coming.
        
        You feel the force of your mana swell all around you—more force of intent than a fully-formed spell, the magical equivalent of an instinctual kick to the ribs. To your surprise, the @{yvar man|woman}'s reaction is purely a defensive one: ${yhe} throws up a wind shield of some kind to dampen the force of your blow, enough so that ${yhe} sustains no meaningful injuries. But the suddenness of your attack leaves ${yhim} off-balance, and instead of allowing ${yhim}self to be pushed back into the portal, ${yhe} instead bodily throws ${yhim}self down onto the ground.
        
        The @{yvar man|woman} lets out a yelp as ${yhe} hits the earth hard. You work instinctively on your second spell, and this time it forms quickly and fully: a gout of flame crackling with power and furious intent. You're considering whether to simply rough ${yhim} up or knock ${yhim} out entirely, when a strong gust of wind suddenly blows in your direction—and [i]snuffs out your spell[/i].
        
        "Wait! Wait," the @{yvar man|woman} pleads, ${yhis} voice a harsh whisper. $!{yhis} hand is extended, the shimmering remnant of a magic circle extending from ${yhis} fingertips.  $!{yhe} pulls ${yhim}self up into a sitting position, cringing as ${yhe} paws at ${yhis} ribs. "I don't mean you any harm. Truly."
        
        You narrow your eyes at ${yhim}, making sure your suspicion is known. "Identify yourself," you say, staring ${yhim} down.
        
        "${yusuha} Mateus, at your service," ${yhe} says. $!{yhe}'s still wincing from the pain of your attack, but appears relieved that you've given ${yhim} a chance to explain ${yhim}self. "I belong to the Ishavak Church, in a manner of speaking. I work closely with the [i]ashai[/i]—Tahlia, I believe you know her as. I was sent after you by Myst. Surely she told you reinforcements were coming?"
        
        "Myst promised to send me temple knights. [i]Plural[/i]," you say tersely, looking the redheaded @{yvar man|woman} up and down. $!{yhe} wears neither platemail nor greaves, opting instead for a set of red, opulent garbs with flaring sleeves, a style typically favored among the Yotai. Yotai [i]mages[/i], to be precise. "You're a lone mage dressed in Yotai garbs. Makes it rather difficult to believe your claim, you understand."
        
        "I do, of course. You're well within your rights to be suspicious," ${yusuha} says, his tone amicable, if a bit uneasy. "Let's do this, then."
        
        *label shrubbery2
        ${yusuha} looks over the shrubbery and gestures in the direction of one of the bandits, one separated from the rest of his group as he relieves himself by the treeline. You feel a tremendous amount of mana radiating off of the redheaded @{yvar man|woman}'s frame, feel the weight of it bearing down on you, as a spell circle blooms underneath ${yhim}. On the other side of the clearing, an identical circle manifests under the unwitting bandit. When the circle completes itself, it spits out a violent gust of wind which engulfs the man's entire body and launches him upwards and backwards, towards a large, gnarled tree branch that soon finds itself nestled within the man's torso. The man beholds his predicament with shock, reaching weakly for his impaled torso, before his body finally hangs slack.
        
        "I hope that was enough to demonstrate that I'm no friend of theirs," the @{yvar man|woman} next to you says grimly.
        
        You consider ${yhim} for a moment. What your new companion [i]doesn't[/i] point out is the truly indisputable claim that ${yhe} is who ${yhe} claims to be. Because for all that ${yhis} wind spell looks like an ordinary—if masterfully-wielded—working of thaum, the feel of ${yhis} mana is markedly distinct. Rather than the careful and calculated design of regular magic, the @{yvar man|woman}'s spell instead felt primal, an instinct of the world made manifest—a force as natural as gravity or the changing of seasons. What ${yhe} used had been no thaum—it was [i]arcana[/i].
    #I watch ${yhim} carefully, making no move to aggravate ${yhim}.
        You've no insight to what ${yhis} intentions may be, but it's clear to you that ${yhe} has you at a disadvantage. $!{yhe} hardly reacted to your presence on the other side of the gate, meaning that ${yhe} had been expecting you all along. $!{yhe} also knows that you're a spiritist of considerable talent, someone powerful enough to erect a spirit gate capable of transporting others en masse. For ${yhim} to have braved the portal even knowing all of this, allowing ${yhim}self into a situation where ${yhe}'s left alone with a mage of high caliber, it would be a safe bet to say that ${yhe} can well hold ${yhis} own.
        
        You feel thet races of mana lingering around ${yhis} form, and note the garbs ${yhe} dons—typically favored by mages of Yotai origin. A powerful mage, then. Never someone you want to make an enemy of, if you can help it.
        
        The @{yvar man|woman} notes your tension and puts ${yhis} hands up in a non-threatening gesture. "I mean you no harm," ${yhe} says quietly. "It was Myst that sent me. She promised you reinforcements, didn't she?"
        
        You feel the tension leave you a bit, though you keep your guard up. "I was promised temple knights. [i]Plural[/i]," you point out.
        
        "So you were. But this and that happened, and they decided it was best to send me ahead," ${yhe} says. "${yusuha} Mateus, by the way. I appreciate you not turning me into a charred hunk of meat immediately. I know you're fully capable of it."
        
        *goto youknowwhoiam2
    #I ask ${yhim} who ${yhe} is. If ${yhe} meant harm, ${yhe} would've just ambushed me.
        *set optimistic %+ 15
        It is clear from ${yhis} reaction upon seeing you on the other side of the gate—or rather, the complete lack thereof—that ${yhe} had expected to find you there all along. $!{yhe} must also know, from the size and nature of your spirit gate, that you're a spiritist of great talent. It would be horribly unwise for ${yhim} to pick a fight with you knowing that, but if ${yhe} had to do so no matter what, then ${yhe} would an even bigger fool not to come out of the gate swinging.
        
        And so, you are left with the only natural assumption: that this @{yvar man|woman} truly did come in peace.
        
        Still, it wouldn't do to let your guard completely down.
        
        "Identify yourself," you demand, your voice a whisper. "Before I strike you down where you stand."
        
        The @{yvar man|woman} holds ${yhis} hands up, gesturing that ${yhe} means no harm. "${yusuha} Mateus, at your service," ${yhe} says, his tone amicable, if a bit cautious. "Myst sent me after you. I appreciate you not immediately turning me into a charred hunk of meat, by the way. I'm sure you're fully capable of it."
        
        *label youknowwhoiam2
        You consider ${yhim} for a moment. "You know who I am?"
        
        "Only the broad strokes," ${yhe} says. "You're a new arrival to Thulrum. The [i]ashai[/i] brought you in herself, or so she tells me. Made sure to stress that I don't step on your toes—for my own good." $!{yhe} gives you a toothy grin, and extends ${yhis} hand in introduction. "It's good meeting you, ${fname}."
        
        "Right," you say, hesitantly shaking it. "You seem to know a lot about my circumstance, but it's fully possible that you've just got a netter worth their salt. How can I really believe you're who you say you are?"
        
        "A netter that could pull a fast one on the [i]ashai[/i]? I'd sure like to meet them someday. Would save me a lot of headache," ${yhe} sighs. "Still, I shouldn't fault you for being thorough. Let's do this, then."
        
        *goto shrubbery2

${yusuha} gives you a knowing glance as the pieces fall into place. If ${yhe} hadn't already known that you were an arcanist, ${yhe} certainly knows it now.

*choice
    #"Alright, I believe you."
        "Swell," ${yusuha} says, grinning. "I wish we could've had a more auspicious start, but all that matters is that now we're on the same page."
        
        You nod noncommittally. You're willing to work with ${yusuha} for now, but ${yhe}'s still a stranger when it comes down to it. Now that you know the level of power ${yhe} possesses, it wouldn't do to get careless around ${yhim}.
        
        Just then, your spirit gate crackles to life behind ${yusuha}, signaling that someone new had stepped into its threshold. You watch on, tense as a pulled string, as a figure emerges from with its depths.
    #"Why didn't you arrive with the knights?"
        "I'm a lot more useful, as you might imagine," ${yhe} replies, shrugging. "I'm sure Myst had me in mind as her first choice, but the knights are always on standby, so she'd thought about going to them first. But i heard the commotion and came running, and well, here we are."
        
        You consider ${yhis} words. ${yusuha} is an arcanist, and one of considerable skill at that. $!{yhis} claims may be boastful, but ${yhe} can likely more than back it up. An arcanist as skilled as ${yhe} is, so familiar and at ease with ${yhis} own powers, would likely prove a stronger asset than a full platoon of well-trained knights.
        
        Just then, your spirit gate crackles to life behind ${yusuha}, signaling that someone new had stepped into its threshold. You watch on, tense as a pulled string, as a figure emerges from with its depths.
    #"I'm not sure why we bothered whispering if you were just going to do all that."
        ${yusuha} blinks at your words. "You know, you're right. A force of habit on my part, I suppose," ${yhe} replies sheepishly. "I manipulated the airflow so as to dampen the noise. I'm sure they've mistaken it as a regular gust of wind, or wildlife moving through the woods," ${yhe} says, looking over at the bandits. As ${yusuha} said, the group appears blissfully unaware of the ill fate that befell their compatriot.
        
        Just then, your spirit gate crackles to life behind ${yusuha}, signaling that someone new had stepped into its threshold. You watch on, tense as a pulled string, as a figure emerges from with its depths.

*choice
    #His stance is taut and alert, ready to jump into action at any moment.
        *set gfalco "male"
        *set fhe "he"
        *set fhim "him"
        *set fhis "his"
        *set ftheirs "his"
        *set fhes "he's"
        *set fvar 1
        *set falco "Falco"
    #Her gaze on me is sharp; I can't tell whether it's caution or dislike.
        *set gfalco "female"
        *set fhe "she"
        *set fhim "her"
        *set fhis "her"
        *set ftheirs "hers"
        *set fhes "she's"
        *set fvar 2
        *set falco "Flyss"

"${falco}," ${yusuha} says. "Good of you to join us."

The new arrival—${falco}, evidently, gazes around the clearing, ${fhis} expression growing dissatisfied as ${fhe} catches sight of ${yusuha}'s work. "Was that really necessary?"

"Oh, come off it, ${falco}," ${yusuha} complains, crossing ${yhis} arms as ${yhe} does. "You know I wouldn't have done that without good reason."

${falco} sniffs and tilts ${fhis} head up, ${fhis} curly white hair bouncing lightly with the movement. "If only that were true," ${yhe} says, golden eyes sharp. "You took an unnecessary risk. You could've easily given away your advantage with a bit of bad luck."

"The risk was calculated. And I hardly did something so flashy just for the sake of it," ${yusuha} replies, waving ${falco} off. "I just thought it'd be prudent for ${fname} here to know about our…abilities. There's no surer proof that we were sent by the Seat, after all."

"You could've talked to ${them} afterwards. Us alone would be enough to do these amateurs in," ${falco} retorts.

"And let ${fname} miss out on the action? A fine way to pay ${them} back for all ${their} hard work," ${yusuha} says. "I should've known better than to expect manners from you, though. You haven't even introduced yourself, gremlin."

${falco} glares at ${yusuha} for the latter's jab, but obliges ${yhim} after a moment. "${falco} Mateus. I work for the [i]ashai[/i]—Tahlia Mateus of the Ishavak Church," ${fhe} says, dipping ${fhis} head lightly. $!{fhe} then turns to regard ${fhis} taller companion, tapping ${fhis} foot impatiently. "If you're quite satisfied, we should get a move on already."

"I agree with you, for once," ${yusuha} replies. "${fname}, can we count on you for help?"

You give the pair a nod of assent, bracing yourself for the fight ahead. What's going through your head as you do?

*choice
    #We have to rescue the refugees as quickly as possible.
        *set noble %+ 15
        Briefly, images of Merdel Village flashes in your mind's eye. Of white-veined bodies piled onto carts, of grieving mothers shivering in the gloom. There are few fates crueler in Arvanand than that of being born a powerless Arcadian, and you suspect these refugees has borne the worst of it. You want nothing more than to finally free of them of their fears, to allow them the fresh start they deserve in Thulrum.
        
        And if you must use violence to see that future come to pass, then so be it.
    #I want to see the full extent of ${yusuha} and ${falco}'s powers.
        *set noble %- 15
        At this point, you're relatively certain that ${yusuha} and ${falco} are telling the truth about their identities. But it remains yet unclear what Tahlia seeks from you, and whether you'll be able to comply with her wishes. If there comes a time that you'll have to be on the other end of their arcana, it would behoove you to know what the pair are truly capable of.
        
        You almost feel sorry for the pitiful bandits who will serve as your unwitting guinea pigs.
    #I'm furious at these bandits. How heartless do you have to be to kidnap refugees?
        *set emotional %+ 15
        The abject misery many Arcadians face from the moment of their birth is no secret to the Arvanian population at large, and you're certain that these bandits are no exception. It boggles the mind to think that they were willing to abduct them now, on the cusp of salvation, for their own ends. These bandits deserve no mercy, for it is clear that they have none of their own for the most vulnerable of people.
        
        Perhaps it is its own kind of blessing, that the first time you wield magic in this new life will be to smite the most deserving.
    #I just want to wrap this up quickly and head back to the city.
        *set emotional %- 15
        When you ventured out of your chambers and into the city, you had expected a quaint day spent breathing in fresh air while walking down Thulrum's streets. Needless to say, this day has been anything but. And for all that you're intent on seeing the refugees through their ordeal, you're already beginning to miss your warm meals and clean sheets. Was one uneventful day so much to ask for?
        
        You sigh internally. You suppose the point is moot, now that you're faced with two arcanists planning to wreak havoc on a group of bandits. If nothing else, you suspect that the three of you will make quick work of the situation.
*goto yuquickthanks

*label caravan

*page_break Some time later...

You find yourself seated on a wooden platform near the front of the caravan, with direct line of sight to the road ahead. ${yusuha} is seated next to you, the space tight enough that your arms jostle against one another's as the carriage traverses down the rugged forest path. Manning the driver's seat in front of you is a familiar face: the middle-aged man who had advised Sair against asking for her granddaughter to be rescued. Despite his rugged looks, the man appears to be of meek character, and every now and again, he shifts uncomfortably as he no doubt feels your and ${yusuha}'s gazes boring into his back.

"You know, I have to ask," ${yusuha} says, ${yhis} tone carefully neutral. "Why did you say that back then?"

The man jolts up as ${yusuha} breaks the silence, and points a finger at his own face as he peeks back. "Are you talkin' to me, @{yvar Sir|Ma'am}?"

"I am," ${yusuha} confirms, leaning forward in ${yhis} seat. "I spoke with Sair for a bit earlier, and she told me that Heesa is no stranger to you. You're her late father's best friend, Keb. Why were you so prepared to leave her behind?"

Keb—the man's name, ${yusuha} had informed you—holds your companion's gaze for a second, before all but crumpling into himself. There is fear and uncertainty percolating his dark eyes—and a fair bit of guilt, underneath it all. "It wasn't an easy thing for me to say, @{yvar Sir|Ma'am}. I love Heesa like she's one of my own," Keb says, his gaze downcast. "But we've been so desperate to get to Thulrum, and we've already imposed on you plenty, what with you coming to our rescue and everything. We thought that if we asked you to save Heesa, too, you would think we're too much trouble. That you'd…toss us out."

*choice
    #"How could you think that? What even would be the point of Thulrum in that case?"
        Keb purses his lips. "May I be honest with you?"
        
        ${yusuha} looks at him as if he's grown a second head. "Yes, of course. We're just trying to understand what was running through your head when you said that."
        
        If Keb is offended by ${yusuha}'s phrasing, he's scarily good at hiding it. The man allows himself a contemplative pause before saying his piece. "I've heard all the stories, and I know that you're trying your best to do right by Arcadians. Isha-on-high knows that we're in need of someone like that, and by the Pantheon, you've really risen to the occasion," he says. "It's a real noble goal you have, but a terribly lofty one, too. And grand ambitions like those can't be achieved without any sacrifices."
        
        *label chastened
        ${yusuha} looks increasingly chastened as ${yhe} catches Keb's meaning. "That's why you thought we'd be so ready to abandon you. You think we see you as [i]disposable[/i]."
        
        "We are Arcadians, @{yvar Sir|Ma'am}. Ones without any talent in magic or any special skills. We wouldn't be able to blame you if you left us to the wolves," Keb says. "I don't much care about my own life—I've lived long enough to see gray hairs sprouting on my head, and that's good enough for me. But the people in this caravan has nowhere else to go, and I don't want to condemn them to the same life I had. I'll do anything to make sure they avoid that fate. Even if it comes at Heesa's expense."
        
        There's a long, pregnant pause as ${yusuha} considers Keb's words, before the redhead finally answers him.
        *goto iofcourse
    #"I can't blame you for thinking that, considering the life you led."
        You've heard the stories of how Arcadians are treated by many Parami and Salantir nobles, but perhaps more pertinently, you've witnessed so much of their suffering firsthand. You suppose that if that was your lot in life, you'd be hard-pressed to put stock in Thulrum's promises of an unwavering safe haven for Arcadians. 
        
        "Thank you for your @{pronvar words, Sir|words, Ma'am|words,}" Keb answers. "But I know what I did wasn't right. I know it's horrible of me to give up on Heesa like that, just on the off chance that something bad would happen to us instead."
        
        "Then why did you do it?" ${yusuha} asks, ${yhis} eyes hard. "I'm sure it was communicated to you that we value every last one of our citizen's lives. Why did you think you or Heesa would be any different?"
        
        Keb pauses contemplatively before answering. "I've heard all the stories, and I know that you're trying your best to do right by Arcadians. Isha-on-high knows that we're in need of someone like that, and by the Pantheon, you've really risen to the occasion," he says. "It's a real noble goal you have, but a terribly lofty one, too. And grand ambitions like those can't be achieved without any sacrifices."
        
        *goto chastened
    #"So you decided to cut your losses? Leave a [i]child[/i] behind to save your own skin?"
        Keb hangs his head in shame. "I know what I did was wrong, but I wasn't just looking after @{pronvar myself, Sir.|myself, Ma'am.|myself.} I don't much care about my own life—I've lived long enough to see gray hairs sprouting on my head, and that's good enough for me," Keb says. "But where I come from, kids are put to the mines almost as soon as they learn how to walk. Some of the children in this caravan haven't even turned half Heesa's age. I couldn't risk them going back to that life. I couldn't do it. Not even for Heesa's sake."
        
        ${yusuha} looks stricken as ${yhe} listens to the man's words.
        *label iofcourse
        "Keb, I want you to listen to me, and do it well," ${yhe} says. "From the moment you accepted the offer to move to Thulrum, you're considered one of our citizens, and it's our duty to protect you. Thulrum's not a large nation the way Param and Salantira are, but we're strong, and we look after our own. But for us to do that, you have to cooperate. If anything like this ever happens in the future, you [i]must[/i] inform us straightaway. Do you understand?"
        
        Keb's eyes shift uncomfortably. "I…of course, @{yvar Sir|Ma,am}."
        
        ${yusuha} is no fool. You're sure that ${yhe} could spot, just as you have, that Keb is only saying that to placate ${yhim}.
        
        It's not like you don't understand where Keb is coming from. The life of an Arcadian is often riddled with misery at the hands of the powerful, who wields both the carrot and the stick with equal mastery. Right now, ${yusuha}'s adamant words must read like the sweet promises he has heard so many times over the course of his life. Keb and his people came to Thulrum in search of a better life, but likely expected said life to still be a miserable one. He's unconvinced that his new Arcadian masters will be any better than his Parami ones, for all who hold power must naturally be corrupted by it, no matter their creed or lineage.
        
        It's a miserable state of affairs. ${yusuha} and ${yhis} compatriots will have their work cut out for them in earning the refugees' trust. And the refugees will similarly need to unlearn much of the wisdom they gleaned from a life spent under the worst kinds of oppression.
        *choice
            #I'll do my part in helping them get settled in.
                *set noble %+ 15
                If nothing else, you'll be something of a familiar face as the refugees traverse a whole new city, and get used to their new place in the social structure. They've likely mistaken you as someone directly affiliated with the Thulrum government, and you fear there's not a whole lot you can do to negate that perception, but it likely helps that they saw you directly contributing to their rescue. Given that ${yusuha} and ${falco} will likely busy themselves with whatever task Tahlia sets them to, your presence will likely prove helpful in easing off some of the tension they feel after such an eventful start to their time in Thulrum.
                
                (And besides, you're also still figuring out your place within Thulrum society, or if one exists for you there at all. They say a little camaraderie will go a long way, and perhaps that time-old wisdom will also hold true in this case.)
            #I'm glad I won't have anything to do with the whole affair.
                *set noble %- 15
                The refugees' affairs will be the Ishavak Church's duty to look after, and for all that you're inextricably linked with the Church for now, you don't know if it will hold true down the line. You're slightly concerned that the refugees might have lumped you in with ${falco} and ${yusuha} and will now look to you for guidance as a supposed officer of the church. Alas, they will be sorely disappointed. You are yourself going through a deeply perplexing ordeal—likely the first of its kind—and you're hardly eager to spend what little leisure time you'll have on coddling complete strangers.
                
                They will have to make do on their own. If nothing else, their experiences in life has likely forged them into the adaptive and resilient sort, and you've no doubt that they'll do quite well on their own.

*page_break

An awkward silence falls over your carriage then, and ${yusuha} stomachs about five minutes of it before sliding down ${yhis} seat and hopping off. The mage beckons for you to follow ${yhim}, and when you do, $!{yhe} leads you down the slow-moving caravan, comprised of five carriages in all. Each one is of simple, almost roughshod make, built with a sturdy kind of wood that hasn't been polished flat all the way. As ${yhe} passes down each carriage, ${yusuha} introduces ${yhim}self with a bright, friendly air, making the kind of surface-level, non-intrusive small talk that can be answered without really revealing anything about one's self.

"What's the weather like where you're from?" ${yusuha} asks, leaning against the low wall of the carriage as ${yhe} regards one of the refugees—a young woman who introduced herself as Risas. She seems a little shy around ${yusuha}, and once you notice that, it's easy to recognize the uncertain flitting of her eyes and the faint blush adorning her cheeks. You can hardly fault her for developing a crush on the @{yvar man|woman}, even after only knowing ${yhim} for all of two hours, if even that. ${yusuha} had been her knight in shining robes, come to rescue her in her hour of need, and after the fact ${yhe}'s been doing all ${yhe} can to make sure she feels safe and comfortable. And that's before even taking ${yhis} striking looks into account, which you've no doubt would've made ${yhim} popular even if ${yhis} personality belonged in the sewers.

"I-It's warm, I guess," Risas answers, not yet quite able to meet ${yusuha}'s gaze. "The place we came from is very far down, near the southern coast. We passed through Kantena on our way here."

"Not far from the Esteram, then!" ${yusuha} says, grinning. "Things must get pretty humid this time of year, huh? I hope you won't have a hard time adjusting to Thulrum, then. It tends to get a little dry this close to the Salantir broder. It can be pretty rough on your skin if you're not used to the climate."

*choice
    #"There are plenty of ways to deal with that, you know."
        ${yusuha} perks up at that. "Is that right? Do tell, ${fname}."
        
        "Salantir nobles typically use a salve concocted from thurmleaf and winterkiss using an alchemical process," you explain. "It's actually a pretty complex tincture to synthesize, so the price tag is frankly ridiculous. But the base ingredients are plentiful all over Arvanand, and you should still see some benefits even without the alchemical processing."
        
        "So we've arrived at the same conclusion. Man, I wish you were around when I first got here. Would've saved me so many years of looking like a molting snake," ${yusuha} says, sighing. "I've been using raw thurmleaf and winterkiss for the past few years, and they worked wonders for me. You can get them for cheap down in Thulrum's markets; you'll want to look in the spices and herbs section, since that's what people around here typically use them for."
        
        "I-I'll be sure to keep that in mind!" the girl says earnestly.
    #"Please, I'm sure they'll survive a little dryness."
        "You're right, of course, but it's still not a good idea to underestimate it," ${yusuha} says. "My hometown back in Yotai's pushed up against a rainforest, too, and when I first moved here, my face shed so much that I looked like a molting snake. It wasn't a fun time."
        
        "That's alright. Even if it happens, I'm sure we'll get used to it in time," the girl says earnestly. "A-after all, that's what happened for you, right? You look great now."
        
        "What, you think so?' ${yusuha} says, grinning. "Praise be to Isha-on-high, [i]finally[/i] someone notices! I put in a lot of effort to look this good, you know?"
        
        The girl looks taken aback by ${yusuha}'s candor. "Y-You do?"
        
        "Of course! Though I hear no end of scolding from ${falco} for it—that's the white-haired @{fvar gentleman|lady} that helped us out earlier, by the way. A pretty swell @{fvar guy|girl} usually, though ${fhe} has a real nasty mouth on ${fhim}," ${yusuha} rambles. "Where was I? Oh, right, dryness. You'll want to look for raw thurmleaf and winterkiss, which you can find for cheap in Thulrum's markets. Up in Salantira, they have alchemists put these things into a salve and charge a fortune for it, but the raw ingredients will still do the trick most of the time. You'll find them in the spices and herbs section, since that's what people around here typically use them for."
        
        "I-I'll be sure to keep that in mind!" the girl says earnestly.
    #"Are your conversations always so banal?"
        *set charming %- 15
        If ${yusuha} is offended by your jab, ${yhe} doesn't show it. "Would you have me discuss politics instead?" ${yusuha} asks, tilting ${yhis} head to the side. "I'm hardly the most well-read @{yvar guy|girl} in the world, but I could give you a primer on the recent war if you want."
        
        You nearly scoff at the suggestion. ${yusuha} doesn't know it, but that primer of ${yhis} would likely mention your name nearly as much as it does Leon's—that is, King Leomar's. "No need," you say instead, waving ${yhim} off.
        
        ${yusuha} turns ${yhis} attention back to the girl. "And what about you?"
        
        "I-I don't know if I…" she gulps nervously. "Maybe later."
        
        "Then I guess that brings us back to our banal conversation, doesn't it?" ${yusuha} says, grinning. "Now where were we…ah, right. Dryness. It's not an enemy you want to underestimate! You'll want to look for raw thurmleaf and winterkiss, which you can find for cheap in Thulrum's markets. Up in Salantira, they have alchemists put these things into a salve and charge a fortune for it, but the raw ingredients will still do the trick most of the time. You'll find them in the spices and herbs section, since that's what people around here typically use them for."
        
        "I-I'll be sure to keep that in mind!" the girl says earnestly.
        
"Attagirl," ${yusuha} says, patting her lightly on the head. "You let me know how that goes later, alright?"

The wind mage makes ready to hop off the carriage and make ${yhis} way down to the next one, but stops ${yhim}self when the girl tugs on ${yhis} sleeve. "W-Wait, @{yvar Sir|Madam} Knight!"

"Oh, I'm no knight. Just a humble scribe for the Seat of Isha," ${yusuha} says. "Just call me ${yusuha}, won't you?"

"Y-${yusuha}, then," the girl says, still unable to meet the taller @{yvar man|woman}'s eyes. "I…I realize this is really forward of me. But would it be possible to meet you again? M-maybe…during the festival today?"

*choice
    #I gently cut in at her proposition. "Sorry, ${yhe} already has plans with me."
        *set ryusuha %+ 13
        ${yusuha} gives you a sideways glance, ${yhis} lips pulling into a smile. "Oh," ${yhe} says. "I did make that offer, didn't I? But as I recall, you didn't really give me a proper answer."
        
        "Well, I'm giving it to you now," you retort.
        
        ${yusuha}'s smile grows just a bit wider, though ${yhe} rapidly reins it in to affect an air of nonchalance. You don't buy it, of course, and you know ${yhe} knows that."Well, you heard the @{pronvar man|woman|boss here}," ${yhe} says. "It seems I'm taken for the evening."
        
        ${yusuha}'s answer only seems to light a brighter fire in her eyes. You're unsure if that's to her credit or detriment. "T-Then, perhaps next week…"
        
        "Risas," ${yusuha} interrupts, ${yhis} tone remaining friendly. "You're very young."
        
        "I-I'm not!" she says adamantly. "I'll be twenty this year. I'm old enough to…to…"
    #Oh, but she's a bold one. I can't help but root for her.
        You respect the courage it must have taken for her to proposition ${yusuha} so quickly and unambiguously, especially given the fact that ${yusuha} has shown no indication of romantic interest. You suppose you can understand her drive. Despite ${yhis} claims, ${yusuha} is very clearly someone important within Thulrum's social structure, someone who will likely be difficult for her to reach under normal circumstances. If she doesn't secure her second meeting with ${yusuha} now, it may very well be the case that she'll have to give up on her crush before anything could ever come of it.
        *label ineffable
        
        For ${yhis} part, the ever-ineffable ${yusuha} seems—remarkably—to be caught off guard. "You flatter me," ${yhe} answers with a faint smile. "But I'm afraid I've made other plans already. Isn't that right, ${fname}?"
        
        $!{yhe} gives you a terse, indecipherable smile as ${yhe} looks your way, as if urging you to play along and  help ${yhim} out. You vaguely recall that you haven't really gotten around to properly answering ${yhis} offer to show you around the festival.
        *label bringintoit
        *choice
            #"I'm good. You two lovebirds have fun."
                ${yusuha} sighs resignedly at that, while Risas goes a dangerous shade of red at your choice of words. "N-No! That is, we're not anything like that…oh, what am I saying? Of course you know that," she huffs, looking as if she wishes to strike herself in the head.
                
                ${yusuha} gives Risas a gentle pat in the head. "Very well, then. I'll be happy to show you around, but on one condition," ${yhe} says. "You'll have to bring along a friend or two, alright?"
                
                It takes a moment before Risas could properly answer ${yhim}. "You're letting me down easy."
                
                The wind mage can only smile at her apologetically. "I'm afraid you're much too young for me."
                
                "I-I'm not!" she says adamantly. "I'll be twenty this year. I'm old enough to…to…"
            #I'll help ${yusuha} extract ${yhim}self from the situation. "That's right."
                *set ryusuha %+ 7
                But do you really want to have ${yusuha} show you around the festival?
                *choice
                    #I do. Having a guide around would be nice.
                        *set ryusuha %+ 5
                        *goto excitementinvoice
                    #I'd actually prefer to go around and discover things on my own.
                        You make sure to say the words with a deadpan delivery, figuring that someone as perceptive as ${yusuha} must be able to tell that you're only playing along for ${yhis} benefit.
                        
                        "As you can see," ${yusuha} says, giving Risas an apologetic smile, "I'm already spoken for this evening."
                        
                        It seems clear to you that ${yusuha}'s answer is a gentle refusal—not just for today, but for any prospects of romance moving forward—but the girl either doesn't pick up on that subtlety, or just flat out doesn't care. You're unsure whether that's to her credit or detriment. "T-Then, perhaps next week…"
                        
                        "Risas," ${yusuha} interrupts, ${yhis} tone remaining friendly. "You're very young."
        
                        "I-I'm not!" she says adamantly. "I'll be twenty this year. I'm old enough to…to…"
            #I do genuinely want to have ${yusuha} show me around. "That's right."
                *set ryusuha %+ 10
                *label excitementinvoice
                ${yusuha} notes the excitement in your voice, and the edge of ${yhis} lips pulls into a smile. "As you can see," ${yhe} says, giving Risas an apologetic smile. "I'm already spoken for this evening."
                
                It seems clear to you that ${yusuha}'s answer is a gentle refusal—not just for today, but for any prospects of romance moving forward—but the girl either doesn't pick up on that subtlety, or just flat out doesn't care. You're unsure whether that's to her credit or detriment. "T-Then, perhaps next week…"
                        
                "Risas," ${yusuha} interrupts, ${yhis} tone remaining friendly. "You're very young."
        
                "I-I'm not!" she says adamantly. "I'll be twenty this year. I'm old enough to…to…"
    #I'm just happy she's found her stride so quickly after such a traumatic event.
        You can't imagine it would've been easy on her nerves, to be accosted by bandits en route to her new home. And that's to say nothing of the life she led prior to that, in a region well-known to exploit Arcadian workers through contractual terms approximate to slavery. Given a league in her shoes, most people would likely clam up as they process everything that just happened to them. And yet here she is, taking brave new steps into the unknown, fearlessly pursuing a @{yvar man|woman} who is virtually a stranger to her.
        
        (You're not sure if that's very wise of her, in the end. But all the same, you're happy to see she's bounced back so quickly.)
        
        *goto ineffable
    #How things go between them is no concern of mine. I let things run their course.
        "You know, Risas, I'm flattered," ${yusuha} says, appearing—remarkably—to be caught off guard. $!{yhe}gives you a sideways glance, as if contemplating whether to ask you for help, and then appears to resolve to bring you into it after all. "But I'm afraid I've already promised ${fname} here to show ${them} around."
        
        You blink at that—you suppose ${yhe} [i]did[/i] make that offer earlier, though you hadn't really gotten around to properly answering ${yhim} yet.
        *goto bringintoit

"Date around? Of course you are," ${yusuha} says. "But I would hardly be the right person. I look like this, but I turned twenty-seven last month, you know?"

The girl's jaw drops with such force that you fear it might dislodge itself. "W-what?"

"Huh. I'm not sure whether to be flattered or offended," ${yusuha} says, scratching at ${yhis} cheek. "In any case, I want you to see me as an older @{yvar brother|sister}, someone who'll look out for you and make sure you stay out of trouble. As for romance, there'll be plenty of people your age in Thulrum. I bet the next time I see you, it'll be with a cute @{yvar boy|girl} around your arm…"

The girl goes beet-red at ${yusuha}'s words and holds her hands up, gesturing for ${yhim} to stop. ${yusuha} laughs an acquiesces to her silent plea. "Alright, alright, I'll stop teasing. But you'll have to introduce me to your @{yvar beau|lover} when you find one, you hear? Now that I'm your older @{yvar brother|sister}, I'll have to vet ${yhim} and make sure ${yhe}'s good enough for you."

The girl buries her face in her hands, letting out a noise uncannily reminiscent of a boiling teapot.

*choice
    #"Alright, ${yusuha}, you've had your fun. Leave the poor girl be."
        *set charming %- 15
        ${yusuha} holds ${yhis} hands up in surrender. "Ah, foiled by my own ally. What a cruel fate to suffer on such an auspicious day."
        
        "The crueler fate would be to suffer this nonsense after being turned down," you point out.
        
        "I meant everything I said, though?" ${yusuha} says. "Now that we've shared the wonders of thurmleaf and winterkiss, we ought to be close enough to tell each other anything."
        
        You narrow your gaze at that. "Are you genuinely thick in the head?"
        
        "It's okay. I'm really quite alright," Risas says, finally peeking out from behind her hands. Her cheeks are still beet-red, you realize, but she at least manages to meet your eyes. "You're…very good people."
        
        You're briefly taken aback by her inclusion of [i]${yusuha}[/i] in that statement. $!{yhe}'s done nothing but tease and humiliate her thus far, after all. Though you suppose there are people with all kinds of tendencies and preferences in the world…
        
        Your thoughts must have shown on your face, because Risas soon shakes her head vigorously and clarifies in a panic, "I-It's not what you think!" She takes a moment to collect her thoughts before continuing. "It's just…I know ${yhe} was just trying to keep the mood light after I made a fool of myself." She then turns to ${yusuha} and dips her head lightly, as if in thanks.
        
        For ${yhis} part, ${yusuha} looks ready to contest her choice of words, but wisely decides against it—probably after realizing how condescending it would sound coming from ${yhim}.
        *goto yureaches
    #"You'll introduce ${yhim} to me too, won't you? I'll be sad if you leave me out."
        *set charming %+ 15
        "F-Fine, I will!" the girl says, her face sinking deeper into her hands. "I'll let you both know, so please let it go, already!"
        
        "I'll hold you to that," ${yusuha} laughs. "You can't take it back even if you change your mind later."
        
        You haven't known ${yusuha} for a long time at all, but it still feels easy to get a pulse on ${yhis} character—a bleeding-heart to ${yhis} core, though ${yhe} masks it well with ${yhis} good cheer and mischievous streak. You get the sense that the redhead doesn't really mean anything ${yhe}'s said to Risas. If anything, ${yhe} might be trying to paint ${yhim}self as completely unromanceable, so that Risas can have a laugh at her silly, fleeting crush years down the line.
        
        That said, ${yhis} approach does necessitate Risas's ongoing mortification, and you certainly don't envy her at the moment.
        
        "Ahh, I get it already!" Risas cries out, swatting ${yusuha} away after ${yhis} insinuation that she'd go back on her word out of spite. "I know what you're trying to do, and I'm telling you it's not necessary."
        
        ${yusuha} tilts ${yhis} head curiously. "I'm not trying to do anything special, though? I'm not sure what exactly it is you're implying."
        
        "I know you're trying to keep the mood light after I made a fool of myself," she says, wringing her hands together. "You're a very good person. And there's no need to pretend otherwise just so that I feel better about myself."
        
        ${yusuha} looks ready to contest her choice of words, but appears to decide against it—probably after realizing how condescending it would sound coming from ${yhim}.
        *goto yureaches
    #I'll help Risas get a lick back at ${yusuha}.
        *set charming %+ 15
        You give a sympathetic pat in the back to Risas, who looks as if she wishes for the earth to swallow her whole. "I'll make sure ${yhe} gets what's coming to ${yhim}," you whisper conspiratorially. You know ${yusuha} can hear you loud and clear from this distance, and that's exactly how you want it. "I'll hit ${yhim} when ${yhe} least expects it."
        
        "Hey," ${yusuha} protests, pouting. "And here I thought we've grown to become the best of friends."
        
        "And if you decide you'd rather do away with ${yhim} entirely, I'll help you hide the body."
        
        "T-that's alright," Risas says, her gentle laugh appreciative. "You're…very good people."
        
        "I am, certainly." You look pointedly over at ${yusuha}. "But ${yhim}?"
        
        ${yusuha} grumbles under ${yhis} breath—something irrelevant like how it wasn't [i]${yhim}[/i] that had been plotting murder in broad daylight. Risas, on the other hand, reiterates her words with a solid sort of certainty. "Mm. I know you're just trying to keep the mood light after I made a fool of myself," she says to ${yusuha}. "Thank you."
        
        The redhead looks ready to contest her choice of words, but appears to decide against it—probably after realizing how condescending it would sound coming from ${yhim}.
        *label yureaches
        $!{yhe} instead reaches ${yhis} hand out and pats Risas on her head, messing her hair up in the process. "Don't be a stranger, you hear?" $!{yhe} shuffles off the lip of the carriage, ${yhis} feet landing on the ground with a firm thud. "If anyone gives you a hard time, make sure you let me know, alright? Your big @{yvar brother|sister} will give them a proper beating for sure."
        
        Risas nods appreciatively and waves a wordless goodbye, and you follow in ${yusuha}'s footsteps as ${yhe} goes to the next carriage on the caravan.

*page_break

${yusuha} spends the next hour or so like that, going from carriage to carriage to barter stories and dole out reassurances, putting a face to the promise of refuge. $!{yhe} paints a picture of Thulrum as a fair city, a just one, where people from all walks of life live together in harmony, and hard work is rewarded in kind. It's a utopic portrayal, enough for it to give you pause. But you suppose that if ever there was a time to inspire hope in people—even with a few white lies mixed in—it would be now, on the foot of an experience that will likely haunt many of them far into the future.

Of course, the success of such an approach largely hinges on the orator, and ${yusuha} appears a master at wielding smiles and kind words as if they were weapons. Many among the refugees appear soothed after their interaction with ${yhim}, even when most of it amounts to little more than small talk and vague reassurances. Still, despite what you're sure must have been ${yhis} best efforts, ${yusuha}'s relentless good cheer at last flags as you enter the last carriage. You find there a group of middle-aged women who are huddled around Sair, comforting her with gentle touches and whispered words as she weeps in worry of her granddaughter's fate.

${yusuha} immediately freezes as ${yhe} takes in the scene, the words ${yhe} has no doubt prepared dying in ${yhis} throat.

It is instead one of the women who greets ${yhim} first and attempts to break the ice, even as she traces gentle circles around Sair's palm. "We must thank you again for coming to our rescue," she says at one point, giving you and ${yusuha} both a weak but genuine smile. She is a well-spoken woman, her hands too soft to have been subjected to hard labor. The air and dignity with which she carries herself puts you to mind of a governess, or perhaps a scribe. "We are forever in your debt."

${yusuha}, having still not broken out of ${yhis} stupor, gives her a faint nod. "Of course. It's what anyone would do," ${yhe} says vaguely, the words leaden as they roll off ${yhis} tongue.

The woman appears to consider something for a moment, and eventually decides to scoot over to the far side of the carriage, out of earshot from Sair and the others. She motions for you and ${yusuha} to follow her, and you oblige. "She is…grieving," the woman says, her eyes downcast. "Back where we're from, when something like this happens to one of ours, we never see them again. I've been trying to reassure her that things are different in Thulrum, that our lives aren't thought of as worthless, as disposable. But she's had an entire lifetime of being treated that way, so I fear she's unable to think otherwise. She thinks Heesa is lost."

"And yet she still begged us to save her," ${yusuha} says. "Just on the off chance that by some miracle, we really would be able to bring Heesa back."

"There is little else she could do," the woman agrees softly. "For whatever it's worth, I have faith that said miracle will come true. Everything you've done for us…you deserve at least that much."

You and ${yusuha} eventually leave the carriage without speaking even a single word to Sair, whose distress is so great that she did not even realize you had come at all. ${yusuha} grows quiet the rest of the ride to Thulrum, and you can tell from the wistful, distant look in ${yhis} eyes that ${yhe} spends that time thinking unceasingly about Sair and Heesa, and whether ${yhe} and ${falco} would be able to reunite them, as they so boldly proclaimed.

*page_break

The sun is low on the horizon by the time you make it back to Thulrum. The caravan snakes its way to one of the city's side gates, an unremarkable construction of stone and iron grates—a far cry from the city's main gates, a grand, yawning thing wide enough to fit three carriages side by side.

"We'll become a part of the welcoming parade if we go through the main gates," ${yusuha} explains. "We've done what we could to keep their spirits high, but it still seems inappropriate for us to force them through the celebration, given that one of their own is still missing."

You nod wordlessly at ${yhis} explanation, watching the road as the caravan closes in on the gate. A chipper woman dressed in acolyte's garbs—${yusuha} identifies her as one of Myst's subordinates—greets you at the gate, and reiterates Myst's gratitude for everything you've done.

"We can take things from here," she says brightly, crossing off a couple of lines from the parchment she has on hand. "We'll take them to their temporary lodgings, pending the proper move-in next week. If anyone here wants to attend the night portion of the festival, we'll make sure to prepare them for that, too."

*choice
    #"Has Myst informed you of what happened to one of their numbers?"
        The woman's face falls, but she does not miss a beat before responding. "To Heesa. Of course," she says. "I'm sure the knights will bring her back with them before long."
        
        "I'd like you to take special care of Sair, her only living relative," ${yusuha} says. "Make sure her every need is attended to. We can't do much to ease her concern for Heesa's safety, but we should at least make sure she has nothing else to worry about."

        "Absolutely," the woman replies earnestly. "You can rely on me."
        
        Satisfied with her promise, ${yusuha} hops off the carriage and motions for you to follow ${yhim}. You oblige, trailing after ${yhim} as ${yhe} crosses the gate and walks down the winding street.
        *label headbacktoseat
        "We should head back to the Seat for now, scrape off all this gunk we've accumulated." ${yusuha} motions to the bottom of ${yhis} long, flaring sleeves, which is now crusted over with a patch of dried blood. You look down in a bid to assess the damage to your own garments, and discover that it's torn through in many places, and tainted with so much dirt and grime that you nearly retch at the sight of it.
        
        "Acolytes rarely ever leave city limits, so their garbs aren't exactly built to endure such…rugged conditions," ${yusuha} says. "It'll be bad manners to go to a festival—or indeed, [i]any[/i] public function—looking like we do, but I'm sure the Seat will be happy to provide you with a new set."
        
        "Is that why you're going to the Seat, too?"
        
        "Oh, hardly. My quarters are in the Seat, though it's in a different section than yours." ${yusuha} shifts uncomfortably where ${yhe} stands—it appears there's something ${yhe}'s not telling you, though you can hardly guess what it is. Why would ${yhe} be dodgy about ${yhis} living quarters when you live in the same building? "In any case, I'm going there to switch into something decent, too. And freshen up while I'm at it—I rather mislike the thought of smelling like a battlefield in the middle of the festivities."
        
        "Understandable," you say, shrugging. "Are we walking there?"
        
        "Perish the thought," ${yusuha} says, waving you off. "I daresay we've deserved a bit of convenience, after everything we've done. The Church will be reimbursing us, naturally—you just sit and enjoy the ride."
        
        ${yusuha} hails down one of the carriages-for-rent that you've seen around the city. It's a stout and wooden thing, covered at the top with a piece of thick cloth suspended by blocky pillars. It's spartan by design, all function and no form, and is suitably affordable because of it. Bronze pieces jingle as they exchange hands between ${yusuha} and the coachman, and before you know it, you're setting off onto the main road and up the hill, once more heading back to the Seat of Isha.
        *goto backinseat
    #"So I'm free to go now? I can do whatever I want?"
        *set emotional %- 15
        The woman brightens and nods in confirmation. "Most certainly! We're only sorry that our incompetence held you up for so long," she says. "Please, do enjoy the Day of Arrival. This festival is truly our pride and joy."
        
        "Then we'll leave things in your hands," ${yusuha} says.
        
        "You can rely on me," the woman replies, dipping her head low as she does.
        
        Satisfied that the refugees will be seen to, ${yusuha} hops off the carriage and motions for you to follow ${yhim}. You oblige, trailing after ${yhim} as ${yhe} crosses the gate and walks down the winding street.
        *goto headbacktoseat
    #"How would I be able to know if ${falco}'s party made it back yet?"
        *set emotional %+ 15
        You've been keeping yourself distracted on the way back to Thulrum, but it's difficult to completely take your thoughts off of Heesa, the young refugee who came to Thulrum seeking a better life, only to be abducted before she could so much as see the city from a distance. She must be terrified right now, in the company of people who can only mean her harm, unknowing if anyone is even coming to save her. You can only hope that ${falco} and ${fhis} knights can get to her before something even worse happens.
        
        The woman's face falls as she hears your words—it's easy to see that Heesa has been on her mind, as well. "I'll personally make sure you're alerted immediately once we have news," she promises. "We're in correspondence with the knight's squire, so we will have word on their progress every other day or so. I will send someone to your doorstep as soon as it comes in."
        
        You sigh, equal parts relieved and resigned. "I appreciate that."
        
        "Of course. It's the least we could do."
        
        "Then we'll leave things in your capable hands," ${yusuha} says after a while, smiling at the woman.
        
        "You can rely on me," she replies, dipping her head low as she does.
        
        ${yusuha} hops off the carriage and motions for you to follow ${yhim}. You take one last, wistful glance at the caravan before you oblige, trailing after ${yhim} as ${yhe} crosses the gate and walks down the winding street.
        
        *goto headbacktoseat

*label backtocity
*page_break
You follow Myst a fair distance away from the hubbub of activity near the center of the clearing, where she then proceeds to work on opening a spirit gate back to Thurlum. You watch with some fascination as she completes it; her spellwork is precise and efficient, marking her as a spiritist of considerable mastery. It's a wonder that Thulrum has given her an administrative post rather than having her drafted into the Thulrum militia. You suppose that points to Thulrum's actual combatants being even stronger—a comforting thought, given that they're the ones in charge of finding and rescuing Heesa.

Myst completes her work before long, and the spirit gate twists into existence in the air in front of her. "This should do it," she says, stepping into the portal. She motions for you to follow, and you oblige her; soon the portal's energy wraps around you, humming like a familiar tune, and you sink willingly into its depths.

*page_break

When you finally open your eyes again, you are greeted by the sight of the Common House, back in that secluded spot where Myst opened the spirit gate for your departure. You hear a yelp somewhere in the room, and when you turn your gaze to inspect it, you find standing there a young, stoutly-built woman dressed in acolyte's garbs. In her surprise, the woman drops the sturdy wooden box she had been carrying in such a way that it tilts at an angle before settling on its bottom, and its contents—an assortment of festive paraphernalia—spill over onto the floor.

Myst sighs as she beholds the sight. "Fiona, you're always so clumsy," she chides.

The woman sinks to the floor and collects all of the items, shoving them haphazardly back into the box. "You'll have to forgive me for expecting you to come back the same way you left—through the front gate," Fiona grouses. "Why are you back so early? What about the refugees?"

"Safe, for the most part. And we have ${fname} here to thank for much of that," Myst says. "${yusuha} is escorting them here as we speak. There's a girl missing from their numbers, and ${falco}'s gone with the knights to track her down. We have reason to believe the Yerefan Serpents are involved—I suppose we'll find out more when the knights send word back."

To her credit, Fiona appears to take the dizzying sequence of events in stride. "We will have to inform the Seat immediately, then. I'll find a messenger."

"I'll see to that myself," Myst says, shaking her head. "You should go to the banquet and find the [i]ashai[/i]. She'll need to be informed that ${falco} and the knights have been mobilized."

Fiona gives Myst a nod of understanding, then turns around to leave.

*choice
    #"And what about me? Am I free to go?"
        *set emotional %- 15
        You had your reasons for helping Myst out with the whole affair, but ultimately you had planned to spend the day breathing fresh air and taking in the sights of the city, rather than rolling in mud and grime in service to the Church. Now that the refugees are en route back to Thulrum, you'd love nothing more than to extricate yourself from Myst and her crew.
        
        Myst nods in confirmation. "Sorry for holding you up, ${fname}. The day portion of the festival is very much still in full swing, and we'd very much like it if you partook."
        
        "You're something of a new arrival yourself, aren't you?" Fiona cuts in, realization dawning on her face. "Then [i]you're[/i] one of our guests of honor, too! Come on, then, let's get to the grounds—we can't have you missing the banquet!"
        
        At the mention of the word [i]banquet[/i], your stomach immediately produces a ferocious growl. You realize with piercing clarity that you haven't had anything to eat the entire day.
        
        Myst and Fiona are stunned into silence for what feels to you like forever and a half. "We must've been terribly inconsiderate," Fiona finally says, before motioning for you to follow her. "We've no time to lose. I'll get you a clean set of garbs to change into and we'll immediately be on our way. The banquet grounds are set up just outside of the House, so we'll get you filled up in no time."
        
        You purse your lips and wordlessly follow her out of the room. Myst gives you a small wave before going right back to work, and you hear her voice calling for another one of the acolytes as Fiona leads you down the Common House's hallways.
        *comment HOUSEKEEPING: COMPLETE THIS FORK *goto commonhousehalls
    #"What will happen to the refugees now?"
        "We will look after them until they're settled and able to integrate into Thulrum," Myst explains. "For today, they'll be taken to temporary lodgings pending a proper move-in to their new residences next week. They'll also be assigned a stipend for the first month, and for longer than that, if the need arises."
        
        "There are vacant posts within the Church, and we've also opened up a new farmland north of the city. Trade's been on the uptick too, so they'll be able to make their living there if they're so inclined," Fiona adds. "In any case, we've gone through a lot of preparations to make sure they're well-taken care of. I know what you've seen of our track record isn't exactly…inspiring, but we really do have this part under control. We guarantee it."
        
        "If you say so," you allow. "They've been through a lot. It'll be nice if they can finally live peacefully."
        
        "We'll spare no expense at making that happen," Myst assures you. "And they'll still be able to partake in today's festivities, if they so wish. The Day of Arrival extends well into the night, after all. It's just a shame that they'll have to miss the banquet…"
        
        At the mention of the word [i]banquet[/i], your stomach immediately produces a ferocious growl. You realize with piercing clarity that you haven't had anything to eat the entire day.
        
        Myst and Fiona are stunned into silence for what feels to you like forever and a half. "We must've been terribly inconsiderate," Fiona finally says, before motioning for you to follow her. "We've no time to lose. I'll get you a clean set of garbs to change into and we'll immediately be on our way. The banquet grounds are set up just outside of the House, so we'll get you filled up in no time."
        
        You purse your lips and wordlessly follow her out of the room. Myst gives you a small wave before going right back to work, and you hear her voice calling for another one of the acolytes as Fiona leads you down the Common House's hallways.
        *comment HOUSEKEEPING: COMPLETE THIS FORK *goto commonhousehalls
    #"How would I be able to know if ${falco}'s party made it back yet?"
        *set emotional %+ 15
        You've been preoccupied with a million and one things since you learned of Heesa's abduction, but it's difficult to completely take your thoughts off of the girl. A young refugee who came to Thulrum seeking a better life, only to be abducted before she could so much as see the city from a distance. She must be terrified right now, in the company of people who can only mean her harm, unknowing if anyone is even coming to save her. You can only hope that ${falco} and ${fhis} knights can get to her before something even worse happens.
        
        Myst looks chastened as she hears your words, and for a moment, you think you can get a glimpse into her true thoughts under that efficient, workmanlike persona she dons. There's something haunted in her eyes, and a pause too long before she finds an answer. You get the sense that in the depth of her heart, she feels responsible for Heesa's situation—and more likely than not, she's actively beating herself up over it.
        
        "I'll inform you immediately once I hear back from ${falco}," Myst says. "We have a windhawk tamer embedded in the knights, so we'll receive updates periodically. I'll send word up to you in the Seat as soon as we get anything."
        
        "I appreciate that," you say.
        
        "Of course. It's only fair that you be kept in the loop, considering how vital you've been to the rescue," Myst says. "I can only hope today hasn't soured you on the Day of Arrival. We've worked very hard to see it to fruition, and it would be a shame if our mistake cost you the experience."
        
        "I believe the banquet hasn't begun yet," Fiona chimes in, and at the mention of the word [i]banquet[/i], your stomach immediately produces a ferocious growl. You realize with piercing clarity that you haven't had anything to eat the entire day.
        
        Myst and Fiona are stunned into silence for what feels to you like forever and a half. "We can't have you missing the main event," Fiona finally says, motioning for you to follow her. "Let's go, then. I'll get you a clean set of garbs to change into, and then we'll be on our way to the banquet grounds. It's set up just outside of the House, so we'll get you filled up in no time."
        
        You purse your lips and wordlessly follow her out of the room. Myst gives you a small wave before going right back to work, and you hear her voice calling for another one of the acolytes as Fiona leads you down the Common House's hallways.
        *comment HOUSEKEEPING: COMPLETE THIS FORK *goto commonhousehalls

*comment *label commonhousehalls

(Author's Note: This segment of the arc is currently still in development. You will be redirected to the completed fork for the time being, wherein you come back to the city alongside Yu. Thank you for your patience!)

*label backinseat


*page_break
*goto_scene Checkpoint_6-2