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Feeling bored, OT? Come in for a grand summer adventure.

Status
Not open for further replies.
B

Blargonaut

Banned
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♞ CONTINUE.
✎ START FROM THE BEGINNING...

HELP:
⁇ The layout is relatively simple, and the entire story is designed to be able to be navigated through entirely from OP. This story is broken up into pieces called 'Arcs'.
⁇ Adventure events are within quote boxes, and the selection of choices are arrayed below them. After reading, simply post the designated letter of your selection to vote.
⁇ At the end of each Arc, there is a logbook section ('Newcomer? The story so far...') detailing the events of past Arcs, complete with links for your viewing convenience.
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Heya, GAF!

I needed an excuse to practice my writing skills, and I thought to myself, self, what better way to practice than by hosting a fly-by-wire choose-your-own style text adventure on GAF? This was a thread I've always wanted to start, and only this summer have I had the time to write the basic story outline and detailed character backgrounds and plots. This will be a personal test of skill for me. And you get a nice distraction! It’s a win-win! So join me, bored-GAF, as I (hopefully) entertain and astound you! ;)

I shall be the omniscient pit lord of this fine event. The proceedings will be simple:


  1. I will post the situation, you will post your choice. It will be a multiple choice format, so you simply have to type your desired letter. Feel free to debate in your posts, though!
  2. After every 10-20 or so replies, I'll tally the choices made: the choice with the most votes will be the canon one, so to speak, and from that one the story will progress. There will be a maximum of 3 bumps in between Arcs to collect votes. GAF will have plenty more time to decide when I'm sleeping or AFK, so be sure to slip your letter choice in!
  3. No making up your own choices or arcs now! You'll shatter the delicate weave of fate! My canon's da only canon. Don't worry, I'll try to cover every possible eventuality for each event in the given choices. I also have to sleep, eat, etc., so I apologize in advance for any delays.
If this turns out to be a popular thing and doesn't violate any GAF rules, I'd consider doing another one of these threads in the future. So then~

get in the mood, and

off

we


go...
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CLICK AN ARC TO READ IT IN ITS ENTIRETY.

P.S: Spoiler tags such as those below can be clicked to un-hide the text underneath (just FYI, since I found out that there are GAFers here who don't know this, after I saw a particular thread...).


Newcomer? The story so far... (Arcs highlighted red are ongoing and open to participation)


  1. Arc 1. You're Totally My BFF
    Outcome:
    You re-united with your recent friend, Basra Tylovar, in a seedy tavern late in the night.
  2. Arc 2. Outfitters Anonymous
    Outcome:
    She wore a traditional southerner hooded shawl, and carried a concealable curved half-moon dagger for self-defense.
  3. Arc 3. I Need a Mirror
    Outcome:
    With your sheathed brintal machete on your hip and satchel intact, you tentatively both agreed on an abandoned teahouse in Market District as your next refuge from the mysterious group that you gravely offended earlier in the evening, and now pursues you. Basra, only a passing stranger at that time, had reluctantly intervened and somehow saved your life, thereby also placing herself in the same mortal danger.
  4. Arc 4. She's a Stunner
    Outcome:
    You were waylaid en route by four alley-bandits in the night; you played dead on Tylovar’s initiative, giving you the element of surprise. Lying motionless on the cold cobblestones, you decided that the man about to humiliate Basra would be the first to die.
  5. Arc 5. And She Sings Too
    Outcome:
    You beheaded that lewd bastard Herzo and cut noble Nostra's throat. Their leader kneels dead at your feet as you sit mortally wounded against the alley wall; by what means he died, you do not know. You spared the girl you nick-named Mace-Head, only to watch as Basra raised the girl's own mace to finish her off. Blood seeped from your mouth as you chose to vocalize an interruption...
  6. Arc 6. Wreaths and Ribbons
    Outcome:
    Basra convinced herself to stop mid-swing, swayed by your grisly intervention. However, she seemed certain she’d easily evade your pursuers alone, and wished to part ways after the teahouse stay. Mace-Head, or Daile, was coerced to join your party and used her 'skill' as a cleric-apprentice to roughly patch you up. After learning of those bandits' apparent connection to your pursuers from Basra, you decided to quickly loot their corpses of anything of import before continuing on to the nearby teahouse before dawn fully broke.
  7. Arc 7. A Shade Too Complementary (Part 1) (Part 2)
    Outcome:
    Your party scavenged everything of possible value before leaving the alley, not bothering to conceal the bodies or lay a trap for your as-yet mysterious pursuers. You learned that Basra was a blood-mage, able to telekinetically move objects stained with her blood; a skill she was forced by her former master to learn under threat of death, whilst enslaved. It was by this means that she slew the bandit leader, Varlo, with the flight of her pre-soaked dagger; explaining its alarming bloodiness in the tavern as a product of her paranoid readiness. Also, you discerned from your new companion Daile's dyed tunic that she was a cleric-apprentice of the famed Wisps Temple chapter. Her gaudy mace was capped with a simple bronze egg, curious shallow cracks running along its smooth surface. You finally arrived at the teahouse a short run later, dawn sun arisen.
    • Arc 7.5. Bonus Arc 2
      Outcome: -in progress-
  8. Arc 8. ???
    Outcome: ???
  9. ...





*Disclaimer: Mods, I read the TOS and am not self-promoting, this is purely a thread for GAF’s enjoyment. :eek: This thread is simply a place for me to practice and hone my writing skills.
 
I

ito007

Member
Cool idea! I think all the choices sound interesting, so I'll just go with...

B

They'd all be good companions to encounter first though
 
L

Lesath

Member
C!

From his backstory, we know he is hilarious and would make for the bestest drinking buddy, and holds the greatest promise for shenanigans. C'mon guys, make the right choice.
 
B

Blargonaut

Banned
RETURN TO OP // NEXT ARC ►
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Arc 1

boom, boom boom

boom; boom boom~

The penny-whistle kicks in at the height of the percussion, a fluttering squeak in your ears. The steak is fat, the tankard’s endless and you relax as you slouch in your seat.

The past two hours were a whirlwind of action, but now, you finally have the chance to closely scrutinize your surroundings. You lift your face from your meal and wash the tavern’s innards with your gaze.

Dim, sparse candlelight, forty-pace-wide grimy rosywood interior, stout smell, giggles and banter. Packed full of patrons at this nightly hour too; most of them are twirling near the central performers’ pit. The place initially seemed unwelcoming when your companion shoved you onto a gloomy corner table, before abruptly leaving. It must have been the absence of the rousing music you usually associate with tavern eateries, but now that the minstrels have come, it all seems much friendlier... although, it might also be because you've been drinking ale non-stop since you arrived. You put your knife down to slap a passing ass; it shrieks before melting into the crowd. Was it a man or a woman? 40/60 odds.

Your companion. A blurry image snaps through the beverage-haze... all that ale. No, they weren't an ass; although abandoning you for an hour in this musty establishment may qualify them as such. You met at the beginning of that two-hour fiasco earlier today; you exchanged long introductions during a lull in the fray, but you currently can’t remember any of it for the life of you. You lean back in your seat as you struggle to squish colours and shapes into a mental picture of your day-buddy... but it seems you’ll be saved the trouble: from nowhere, your companion collapses into the chair across you and sticks a face out. You squint at the face; it seems to be attached to your companion’s body. It’s your companion’s face! You smile, but arms shoot out and immediately grip your shoulders. The face lunges at you. Huge eyeballs, and its lips flutter fast... and thunderous too; you begin to feel a sense of... urgency-

The arms release your shoulders as your bestest-budbud-in-the-whole-wide-Continents stands and begins to manhandle you as you sit. You feebly resist as you slump and chuckle. You feel a hand squeeze yours and slide something off your finger; an abrupt pause. You inquisitively lift your eyelids, in time to see a fist with a brownish dull grape of a gem on its ring finger punch you square on the forehead. A painless brain-diarrhoea and an impossible flash-
???:
“-ld you not to drink, you idiot, that was the last Dispel we had! C- Get, up-“
Click to expand...

You snap your head up and stare at your companion~
Click to expand...


-GAF's decision?-

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
A. Rorke Coldring, 42 - Stubborn Keeper
Rorke Coldring is a hardy forty-two year old man. He often claims that he has as many old battle scars as he does strands of chest-hair, but no-one has ever caught him with his armour and cloak off to prove otherwise. The strong, sweaty musk of his ne'er-removed chainmail that wafts about as he passes by, is considered a local tourist attraction in the quarter of the City in which he lives and works as a warehouse guard. As a result, Rorke has considered changing his last name to 'Deepmusk', but refrains from doing so as it would be an affront to the famous sellsword pair the ‘Coldring Slayers': his father and mother. Those two now work far to the south, but son and parents maintain a regular correspondence.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
B. Basra Tylovar, 26 - Lucky Unfortunate
Basra Tylovar never met her parents; she says her name was told to her by a veiled woman she paid a gold piece to for a divination when she was seven. For reasons unknown to her, she was born into spending the early twenty-odd years of her life as one of the many young table-maids of a fat, corrupt merchant. When her adult-strength fully manifested, she hoped to end her servitude and her own miserable life when she gutted the man from navel to heart with a silver steak knife, in front of the armed guard captain, at the annual South Watch banquet. To her shock and horror, the man did not collapse in a bloody pool like she expected, but instead aged a thousand years in seconds. The stench of necromantic magic blew in all directions as he disintegrated into dust before her. For Basra's service in dispatching the powerful ghoul, the captain gave her freedom and a tidy sum of gold, which was enough to buy her own small lodgings in a dank corner of the City docks.

However, Basra was sorely uneducated in living the free life. Those next five years were even worse than the life she had while indentured; full of abuse, murder and debauchery. But through it all, Basra was never the victim or cause of such torments, only an eternally terrified witness; as if the gods that had abandoned the City long ago had remembered that they had mistakenly left one of their own behind, and ensured the safety of her passage.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
C. Bryor, Age Unknown (~30?) - Puzzling Beast
Bryor's parents were soldiers. He hasn't seen them for a very long time. These are the only details he will divulge when asking him of his past. If his story is truly as interesting as he is mysterious, there would be no doubt that the scribed tome would be an instant hit across the Continents. He is disarmingly friendly and surprisingly talkative concerning any other subject. Bryor himself seethes with an ever-shifting aura of 'presence' that cannot be properly described in words, but both good and evil alike say they feel better knowing that the shapeshifter is nearby. This is a fact only made stranger considering his reputation as one of the most erratic mercenaries the City has to offer.

His most infamous contract was with a shady merchant who paid him to morph into a giant spider, appear in a nearby manse and attempt to scare the owner into selling the 'infested' house. Two weeks later, after the owner had smoked out the last of the thirteen dozen spiderlings from the now-useless property, Bryor's report to the livid merchant was that 'giant spiders are naturally fast breeders'. He was never paid.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
D. Daile R.C., 24 - Unremarkable Cleric-Apprentice
Daile has so far led an eventful but remarkably uninteresting twenty-four years of life. Born to a middle-class family, her father is a tailor and her mother is a local temple cleric. How her parents met and the details surrounding her conception is a tale so ribald and oft-spoken of in local social circles that it earned her the nickname 'Daile of Rosy-Cheeks'. Whether this title refers to the bright-red blush of her face when she hears such gossip, or to a naughtily well-known description of her mother's anatomy, Daile does not know and does not wish to.

Her duties as a young cleric-apprentice has brought her all over the City healing the sick and brightening up sorry spirits, but she has never ventured beyond the City’s walls; a fact that she is surprisingly content with. Daile has, however, met several famous City personae; her happiest being with the flashy stage auteur Sallah. She keeps the patch of torn robe framed in her temple living quarters. She loves ‘donations’.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
E. Kyrii Iiranui, 35 - Flighty Seer
Kyrii Iiranui moved to the City from the south nine years ago, fleeing from a furiously psychotic merchant who sought to murder her after she had performed a divination of his future that actually came true. The full report on the case has never been publicly released, but apparently the foretold event involved a dozen goblins, a night of a new moon, the master suite of Venn’s Inn in Filla and a half-melted beeswax candle. The merchant was eventually sentenced to die for what had transpired that night, but still, Kyrii no longer felt safe for her life. She packed her meagre belongings and paid her last coin to a northbound trade caravan the day after the execution.

She has been content to ply her trade in the City, where she has realised her scrying and clairvoyance gives the tormented peoples a sense of security against the future; if not, at least, to the minority not so rudely skeptical of such magics.



(Note that the remaining four may appear later in the tale; whether as friend or foe, only time will tell.)
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ARC 1 VOTING RESULTS // NEXT ARC ►

*The second arc will be in a few hours, 7am here and I gotta sleep. Fitting that this will be an important choice anyway, so put those letter votes in in the meantime! ;)

Newcomer? The story so far... (this space will be reserved for Arc summaries)


  1. Arc 1. You're Totally My BFF
    Outcome: -in progress-
  2. Arc 2. ???
    Outcome: ???
  3. ...
 
B

Blargonaut

Banned
edit: *Another call for companion votes! Seems like B is getting a lot of love. :eek:

I see a lot of thread views but way fewer votes; don't be shy, OT-GAF! It's as simple as typing a letter :3
 
B

Blargonaut

Banned
TALLY, ARC 1! (22 participants)

For B: Basra Tylovar (10 votes total)
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C2dXdIN.gif
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ito007, Omega Ultimus, PeskyToaster, NaotoFakuza, DarkFlow, Natiko, Enker (no avatar), Azula, Aske, TheAbsolution.

For C: Bryor (9 votes total)
MvYJt9q.png
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Lesath, Dead Man, Maddocks,Viridian6 (no avatar), Subtle, Curiocity, C. Qwark, johnny_park, BTM.

For D: Daile of Rosy-Cheeks (3 votes total)
e2inYSS.png
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Regret Upon Approval, YesNOnoNOYes, Professor Chaos.

~Fate flickers, and:





B wins by one vote.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Arc 1 voting closed!

Arc 2 incoming-
 
B

Blargonaut

Banned
◄ PREVIOUS ARC // RETURN TO OP // NEXT ARC ►
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Arc 2

Your eyes focus and your sense as well as your memory returns; Basra Tylovar, that’s her name.

A mild spark sputters off the now-useless ringcharm as she pulls it off her finger. She flings it on the floor, glares at you and turns away, and you quickly rise from your corner seat to follow her. The nearby tavern patrons witnessed the slugging, and as Basra stormed off in frustration, they laughed and turned back to their cups and revelry. Apparently, couples fighting over liquor are commonplace in this dump, though you and her aren't an item.

Taking a few steps through the crowd, you feel lightweight; you remember you had a satchel of equipment when you first entered this place. Glancing about for Tylovar, you see her near the exit, arm around the bartender’s neck and their faces huddled together in urgently hushed conversation.

She’s of average weight on a petite but exercised build, round but well-defined nose and a neutral pout on a clean severe face with ashy charcoal eyes underlined by a matte puffiness; a soft glare outlined with eternal fatigue. A symmetrical oval-shaped pretty face of a tired but determined expression that wavers very rarely. Her black hair was arranged in a style typical of southerner women but rarely seen in the City: cut short but with upper volume and swept from right to left, obscuring her forehead and brow like straight bangs do, with the rest of her hair falling to the midway of her neck but not hiding her ears, then flaring outwards and slightly up at the nape. She’s about six-and-half-heads tall with light olive-tan skin, common of those of pure southerner ancestry. She spoke in the overtly enunciated r-y style of the southerner accent, but had quite a solid grasp of the common language Urta.

She’s still wearing the outfit she had on when you first met her earlier today~
Click to expand...


-GAF's decision 1?-

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
A1. A very light, no-nonsense tumbler’s outfit but with limited carrying capacity.
A puffy criss-crossed tan leather jerkin with hardened high collar, a pair of clotted-red/dark-red striped travel leggings, a discreet but small black waist-purse, and travel sandals with toe-covers and thick rubber soles. A iron-band-reinforced leather open-face helm with a protruding forward brim hangs from the waistbelt, with the leather bits painted a bright snow-white. A semi-transparent beige linen veil can be dropped from the helm's brim to conceal the face.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
B1. Traditional southerner all-purpose garb, not commonly seen in certain districts of the City.
A dirty white, sturdy cotton shawl with turtle-neck and a broad hood, flaring down as a cone, and concealing everything from the neck to the knees; and a pair of black knee-high boiled hide boots. Two parallel vertical slits are cut into the shawl’s front for arms to come out if desired. Underneath, an ordinary brown close-fitting sleeveless fibre shirt and shorts. A decent-sized belt-satchel circles the waist. There are crude knot patterns embroidered with common silvery-thread onto the shawl... protection charms?

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
C1. A typical City woman’s outfit, if not for the unpolished sleeveless chainmail vest worn over it, and the roomy utility backpack of tanned hide.
A dull cloud-white close-fitting, long-sleeved V-neck tunic dress of smooth, flexible thin leather, with black linen leggings ending just below the knees. A wide sash of thin, slightly see-through red linen wraps around and around the stomach, meant to tightly secure the tunic against the body and to act as a makeshift pocket for loose trinkets and coinpurses. Brown tapered leather shoes and slightly-transparent black linen stockings. No head coverage.



You can’t hear their speech over the tavern’s din. In the faint candlelight, she seems to feel you staring across the room; her eyes swivel and stab you and she beckons you to hurry up with a flick of her head, before turning to continue their whispers.

You quickly pace back to your corner table, but see a barmaid already ragging it clean. Thankfully, somehow no one noticed the gigantic satchel under your chair, and you politely sidestep her as she heaves the tray of cloth and dishes away. Crouching to pick it up, you pull the tightcord and the sack opens.

First things first: Basra had wrapped her own weapon in a random blanket and asked you to conceal it before she left, without saying why; now, you rummage for it inside your pack and find it. Relieved that it’s there, you draw the bundle out with the intention of returning it...

...but, feeling a teensy-bit curious, you unwrap it and take a swift peek~
Click to expand...


-GAF's decision 2?-

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
A2. A curved steel half-moon dagger the size of a splayed hand, safe in its wine-velvet sheath.
It’s designed to be worn loosely on top of the left shoulder, cupping the left of the neck with the grip floating above the wielder’s heart. This design enables the user to rapidly draw into a quick forward slash, perfect for a close-range surprise attack. This is an urban weapon.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
B2. An ordinary steel longknife of forearm-length in its straight scabbard, to be worn on the hip.
The grip is steel tightly wrapped with rough, bright-green leather. This weapon has no crossguards, so with every thrust, there is the danger of the user’s hand sliding forward onto the blade. This is the kind of dagger famously carried by new City Watch initiates; the constant danger of self-harm instils weapon discipline and forces the user to dramatically pump up their grip strength.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
C2. A twin-pronged barbed tinder-knife in a jet-black straight sheath, a flint-glove and a small tin of flammable blackpowder good for at least five refills.
This sadistic combination is illegal within the City. Owning a set is punishable by permanent exile, and being caught using a set is punishable by burning at the stake.

The powder is meant to be poured into a receptacle in the knife’s grip, and the glove to be worn on the knifing hand. The knife’s blade and grip are both only of hand-span length. Upon stabbing or the blade catching on a target, the barbed tip ensures it stays stuck in the flesh. The user then whips their hand back while gripping the handle as hard as possible; this great friction between it and the flint-glove ignites the blackpowder inside, and a plume of fire erupts from the base of the blade, immolating the victim in addition to the barbs inflicting deep internal tears during the pull. It can still be used as a regular knife when the powder's gone. Using a tinder-knife is highly risky when fighting multiple opponents, as the barbed blade can get stuck too effectively and become unable to be pulled out, leaving the user weaponless... and there is always the ever-present danger of fire.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
D2. A steak knife wrapped in grimy brown oil-cloth, but gleaming a bright silver.
It’s quite long, about one-and-a-half hand-spans. The ultimate half of the polished silver blade has serrated edges to slice through cooked meat. It also seems to be from a nobleman’s set: the grip is polished ivory with twin straight crossguards made of platinum, and there’s a flawlessly round, transparent crystal inset into the pommel. For some reason, the entire edge is stained such an impossible black that makes you want to vomit the longer you stare at it...



(Basra's equipment will have a major effect on later events.)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
◄ PREVIOUS ARC // ARC 2 VOTING RESULTS // NEXT ARC ►

*Apologies for the hours delay, writing is hurrrd :3 Crack on with the outfitting, Arc 3 will be in a few hours!

**Please don't be shy to vote! The more participants the merrier.

Newcomer? The story so far...


  1. Arc 1. You're Totally My BFF
    Outcome: You re-united with your recent friend, Basra Tylovar, in a seedy tavern late in the night.
  2. Arc 2. Outfitters Anonymous
    Outcome: -in progress-
  3. Arc 3. ???
    Outcome: ???
  4. ...
 
S

Sawneeks

Banned
B1 and C2.

B1 could easily let someone blend into a crowd and like Omega said, the charms would be good against the undead. Having run into one of them already she probably keeps an extra eye out for more necromancers.

Also C2 because it's a flaming dagger that is 100% worth the risk. And fire is probably very effective against undead. But it's mainly Badass > Risk any day.
 
W

WhereAreMahDragonz

Banned
Omega Ultimus said:
Second this; "possible charms" on the garb could be useful if she is hunted by Undead (or whatever you plan on calling them), and in addition to it being easily concealable, she has used a dagger before.
Click to expand...

Yeah that's why I chose it. The hood may also be useful if needed to conceal her identity for whatever reason.

The knife just sounds really practical. The flaming one, while awesome, is too risky and flashy. There's a chance the authorities will be alerted to it if used too often, and the risk of getting it stuck in the heat of battle is too great.
 
B

Blargonaut

Banned
*First bump out of three! The votes must flow. ;)

Interesting combination choices so far... I'm super-anxious to see what you all agree on...
 
B

Blargonaut

Banned
*2nd bump.

Almost 4am here, g'nite... I feel the story is chugging along nicely in my head; got some heavy hitters in store down the line. :eek:

Keep those letter choices coming, GAF!~
 
I

ito007

Member
B1 and A2

I'm mostly interested in that dagger though. I feel like it fits her character the most. Anything else for her felt awkward to me.
 
B

Blargonaut

Banned
Interesting combination choice. No extra votes...? :'(

TALLY, ARC 2! (13 participants)

Decision 1

For A1: A very light, no-nonsense tumbler’s outfit but with limited carrying capacity. (1 vote total)
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Natiko.

For B1: Traditional southerner all-purpose garb, not commonly seen in certain districts of the City. (10 votes total)
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WhereAreMahDragonz, TheYanger, DarkFlow, Omega Ultimus, Sawneeks, YesNOnoNOYes, Curiocity, trinest, ito007, ultraspank.

For C1: A typical City woman’s outfit, if not for the unpolished sleeveless chainmail vest worn over it, and the roomy utility backpack of tanned hide. (2 votes total)
UJEMsm2.png
jEKi3wW.png

weekend_warrior, Maddocks.


Decision 2

For A2: A curved steel half-moon dagger the size of a splayed hand, safe in its wine-velvet sheath. (7 votes total)
uImRaNy.jpg
wRVQzhX.png
15tTI2H.jpg
C2dXdIN.gif
wGkEd25.png
njmHDhw.png
lB5pnt8.png

WhereAreMahDragonz, Natiko, DarkFlow, Omega Ultimus, YesNOnoNOYes, ito007, ultraspank.

For C2: A twin-pronged barbed tinder-knife in a jet-black straight sheath, a flint-glove and a small tin of flammable blackpowder good for at least five refills. (3 votes total)
n7KHQz3.png
jEKi3wW.png
DpkdEBD.png

Sawneeks, Maddocks, trinest.

For D2: A steak knife wrapped in grimy brown oil-cloth, but gleaming a bright silver. (3 votes total)
li4LLE2.jpg
UJEMsm2.png
HQIishl.png

TheYanger, weekend_warrior, Curiocity.

~Fate flickers, and:





B1 and A2 win.

It's interesting that only three selected D2, the original silver steak knife that Basra accidentally slew a ghoul master with. A hint that slipped by or a conscious choice on the majority's part?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Arc 2 voting closed!

Arc 3 incoming-
 
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Not open for further replies.

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