Inactive [LP CYOA] Overlord

[Cassidy]

A - "I will save you, M'lady" *tips wizard hat*

 

[Baltika9]

It seems that the current fiercest debate is between some possible-woman we haven't actually talked to or seen outside of armor, with whom our sole interaction was the part where we just permanently maimed her, or a 14-year-old who we just saved from murderrape.

And the prince. Don't forget the prince.

 

[a cut of domestic sheep prime]

THREAD PARROT COUNT UPDATE:
11 Parrots With Hats
624 Normal Parrots
635 Total Parrots

Thanks to the brilliant JRIz for his awesome and highly useful parrot count script.

 

[a cut of domestic sheep prime]

By contrast Legend had only:
167 Parrots with hats
1200 Normal parrots
1367 Total parrots

And that was after 1200+ pages.
Clearly, if the current rate parrot build up holds...we could in for a parrot meltdown.

 

[archaen]

By contrast Legend had only:
167 Parrots with hats
1200 Normal parrots
1367 Total parrots

And that was after 1200+ pages.
Clearly, if the current rate parrot build up holds...we could in for a parrot meltdown.

I had 10,000 parrots in my chat box but then I didn't do it.

 

[a cut of domestic sheep prime]

edit:
and EPIC had:
29 parrots with hats
157 normal parrots
186 total parrots

If you'll look at figure A, we can see a clear increase in the parrots to pages ratio with each LP.

Spoiler

 

[Azira]

 

[Nevill]

Having an apprentice seems like fun

Having a girl apprentice is double the fun. Having a boy apprentice is no fun. It all evens out.

Seriously, though, I just want Erdrick to be a person who prefers that everything and everyone around him should be female. And cute, too. Out of pure aesthetical considerations, if nothing else.

Sort of like Rance, except less pushy about it, which is no doubt something that Lambchop will try to fix.

Theologians and philosophers have long debated whether treave can create a female character so unbangable that the Codex doesn't still want to fuck her.

Thank you, kind sir, this is the best laugh I had in days.

* Schroedinger's chick (50% chance of being a dude until after the decision to have sex with her was made), who was also our greatest rival at the time (failed)

Actually, it had a 66% chance of having a dick, but Codex is all about banging beating overwhelming odds and MAXIMUM FUCK.

* a dormant necrophile (failed)

Wait, who is that? I don't recognize her. Is that Maeda? It's okay, she was dead, too.

It seems that the current fiercest debate is between some possible-woman we haven't actually talked to or seen outside of armor

And I want it on the record that I am unsatisfied with the resolution of the adjutant subplot.

If you'll look at figure A, we can see a clear increase in the parrots to pages ratio with each LP.

Worse yet. We are seeing a trend for casualization of Parrots. Epic had the largest share of the monocled Parrots (15%) that kept declining as LPs went by (12% in Legend), leaving us with a measly 2% ratio in the current one.

They are becoming a dying breed.

 

[Baltika9]

Having a girl apprentice is double the fun. Having a boy apprentice is no fun. It all evens out.

Seriously, though, I just want Erdrick to be a person who prefers that everything and everyone around him should be female. And cute, too. Out of pure aesthetical considerations, if nothing else.

Sort of like Rance, except less pushy about it, which is no doubt something that Lambchop will try to fix.

I dunno, I'd rather be surrounded by talent, men or women. All jokes aside, if we can get the prince to fall to our side (via the Arthas way or something else), I'd take him because he's definitely a good field commander. Now, I'm all for being accompanied by beautiful women, but ultimately for the segregation of harem and state.

 

[Nevill]

I'd take him because he's definitely a good field commander.

Is he? I thought he was eager to rush into a trap (two traps, even, considering the situation as a whole) and would be dead if it weren't for our intervention.

Now, I'm all for being accompanied by beautiful women, but ultimately for the segregation of harem and state.

Well, if we could gather talented and beautiful women under our wing, wouldn't that be a cause worth striving for?

 

[Baltika9]

Well, if we could gather talented and beautiful women under our wing, wouldn't that be a cause worth striving for?

Definitely, but I don't see that happening. I expect there to be competent individuals on both sides and I want only the best as our subordinates, no one else will do.

Is he? I thought he was eager to rush into a trap (two traps, even, considering the situation as a whole) and would be dead if it weren't for our intervention.

Depends on how you look at it and we definitely don't know his side of the story. Maybe he was suspecting those traps too and was ready to take one for the team, or maybe he had a plan, we can't know at the moment. What we do know, however, is that he's a loyal commander, a good front-line leader and that he has balls. Which is good.

 

[Nevill]

What we do know, however, is [...] that he has balls. Which is good.

Baltika gonna Baltika.

 

[Baltika9]

Hey, if you want commanders who are sycophants and can't exploit the initiative without you ordering them around for fear of messing up, be my guest.

 

[treave]

Gratitude

“Ah.” You exhale, taking in the scent of blood and the cries of the maimed. There is a nervous twitch in your fingers desiring more, telling you to accept it, to embrace it, to drown in it, to revel in it, to paint your white wings red with the blood of your enemies and turn their essence into your strength. In your mind you can almost see and hear a chorus of winged angels singing war. The feeling is strong, but it passes swiftly, leaving behind no more than a malingering memory of bloodlust. An ancestral instinct, a racial memory: whatever it is, it does not seem good for business. An instinct too wrapped up with the wrong sort of bodily fluids, as far as you are concerned.

You lower your blood-stained sword. It was not to say that these soldiers are weak: in fact, you would rank them as above average amongst the human armies that you have crossed swords with. They are not shrinking peasants who barely knew which end of the spear to hold, and have definitely survived battle more than a few times. However, the gap in experience is just too great to surmount. In your quest to defeat the Demon Lord you had been thrown into impossible odds against impossible numbers far too many times to count. Even if you have no magic, even if they were more skilled in arms, this is by no means a fair fight.

You glance at Aria and Arlin. Exhausted, they are standing back to back, their faces covered in blood. They had done relatively well; being handed weapons seems to have inflamed their desire to survive. The twins had changed quickly from the frightened brats you had just met moments ago. Children are particularly mercurial at that age, so you expect their resolve to waver once their brain catches up.

Aria had taken a nick or two in places, but you had made sure that she never fought more than one enemy at once, and always against a foe that was not so skilled that she would be struck down in a single blow. The girl is passable with a sword, especially for someone her age, and the ferocity of her attacks is quite driven. She would probably make a better Carnage Pigeon than you do, and like it too. With your help she had managed to kill one soldier – more of a lucky shot than anything, and as you expected, she froze up for a few seconds when her sword actually sank in. She recovered quickly, and you have no doubt that she can get used to it.

Arlin, on the other hand, was a surprise. He had not killed a single foe, and certainly did not try to. Yet, you have this feeling that you could have not watched after him at all and he might still have come out of it unscathed. He moved around his enemies naturally, exposing weak points that would have condemned one or two of them to instant death at the point of his dagger, but yet he refused to strike. You are certain that he has a lot more talent than his sister in this aspect: his smooth footwork reminds you of the swordsmaster Layla, whose beautiful legs never failed to dazzle in combat. In fact, he probably has more talent for fighting skillfully than you do.

Thank goodness you have brute strength and speed to rely on. You smash an incoming arrow with the flat of your blade. The splinters of wood and metal spray in the opposite direction, causing yet another soldier to drop dead.

That seems to be the last straw.

The enemy runs. An excited Aria makes to chase after them, but you hold her back. She looks up at you, puzzled, and asks something you do not understand. You shake your head and pat her shoulder encouragingly. She wouldn’t be able to catch up with them anyway, and you can’t either, not while bringing them along. Besides, a wounded group that size, severely reduced in numbers, would not be too hard to track. Unless they begin abandoning their injured by the roadside, you are rather confident that you can follow them if necessary.

The magic circle fades away soon after. Finally. It's over. You are mentally exhausted: you have not been so active ever since you fought the Demon Lord, and at the moment you would like nothing better than to go back and sleep. Quickly, you recast the translation spell. “Everyone okay?” you ask. Arlin nods, bowing so deeply as he expresses his thanks that you think he might topple over and hit his head on the ground. Aria, too, is similarly grateful.

“Good,” you say, accepting their thanks. “Now that that is over, we… or rather, you have work to do.”

“I owe you my life, sir! Just say the word,” replies Aria resolutely. “I’ll do anything!”

“Excellent! You can start by looting the bodies. Armor goes into one pile, weapons into another, and money on a third. Leave the clothes for now, but bring me any staves and books that you find. Oh, hold on, let me organize things a bit…” You call out more wolves, and have them start rolling the corpses into a neat stack.

“W-Why do we have to do this?” asks Arlin.

“Just shut up and do as our savior says!” snaps Aria, who seems quite happy to do your bidding.

“It’s okay. Let me explain why.”

***

A. “It is all about profit. To the victor goes the spoils.” You won, so you get to keep whatever they had, as per the rules of engagement that you have in your mind, which is binding on your enemies even if they do not agree. It’s only fair after all that trouble they made you go through.

B. “They can’t take their earthly belongings with them when they pass on to… well, wherever it is you believe dead people go to.” The dead have no more use for their belongings, but you do. It’s only fair after all that trouble they made you go through.

C. “We will be keeping these in memory of their brave battle, and make use of their belongings in ways they would approve of.” Surely, given their penchant for convoluted plots, they could appreciate the irony of having their items used for the benefit of an enemy. It’s only fair after all that trouble they made you go through.

***

A short while later, the surviving villagers approach fearfully. They are greeted by the sight of two children stripping the dead of their belongings, aided by a dozen large wolves that emit an unnatural glow, while a hooded man sits on a rock not lifting a finger to help.

While you are wondering if you should finally get up and go look for Rin – just where is that princess anyway? – an old man nervously comes up to you and says, “Sir, are you the mysterious mage that assisted Prince Farland?”

You turn to Aria and ask, “Who’s he?”

“The village chief, Enzel,” she says brusquely, before going back to her duties of collecting weapons.

The chief glances at Aria, a look of sorrow on his face. “Aria, your father-“

“I don’t want to hear about it.”

“I’m sorry, Chief Enzel. Sis won’t listen to anything at the moment,” smiles Arlin apologetically. “We will tend to our father’s body afterwards, after we have finished our obligations here.”

“I… I see.” Frowning, the chief turns towards you. He bows his head and asks, “Sir mage, we are grateful that you helped us out, but would you be so kind as to release the children so that they can bury their father? We can help you with your… ah, acquisitions… in their place.”

“Hm? I was not aware that I was holding them by force. Aria, Arlin, you are free to go.”

“I’m staying here, Master.”

Master, now?

“I’ll… I’ll stay with my sister.”

“Well, that is how it is,” you shrug. If they want to work for you, you are not about to complain.

The village chief sighs. “I see. Very well then, I will not ask further.”

“I am sure you didn’t come all the way out of concern about the children, Chief Enzel,” you say.

“Partially, yes. No matter what they may think, they are still part of our village,” replies Enzel heavily. Aria just lets out a rude snort. “We also came to thank you, sir mage.”

“That is certainly very polite of you.” On the outside, you are smiling, but on the inside, you wonder if that gratitude would be made good in gold.

“There is the customary fee for your aid, for sure. The villagers and I have scrounged up whatever was not taken by the raiders, and we have managed to come up with this…” Respectfully, he hands you a bag of jangling coins. There does not seem to be much, and it is not very heavy. “Ten silver coins… it is not much, and a bit below the going rate for the Adventurer’s Guild… but it is all we can spare at the moment, sir.”

You take it and tuck it carefully under your cloak. Then, you ask, “Shouldn’t the prince be footing the bill for this?”

“We cannot in good conscience let you leave without a reward! That would be inhospitable! We will petition Prince Farland for a decrease in this year’s taxes due to the raids, and also mention this payment from the village to you for services rendered.”

Ah, so it is a rebatable expense. Perhaps you should give them a receipt. “Wait, what is the going rate for the Adventurer’s Guild?”

“Are you not with them, sir? I thought…”

“I am… a freelancer, and new to these lands. I do not know how much the local guild pays.”

“Ah, of course, I see. That explains it,” says the chief hurriedly. “It is…”

“About twenty silver coins,” interjects Aria. “That is what it would usually cost to put out a request for chasing off bandits, but these bastards were not bandits at all, were they?”

“Yes, twenty,” sighs Enzel again, deflated by Aria’s interruption. “I am sorry, mighty hero, but we simply cannot afford more at the moment.”

You rub your chin. “Ah, but it does not have to be monetary…”

***

A. You ask the chief to give you the prettiest girl in the village. Nothing else will suffice.

B. You ask for information: about the local geography, farming, their religion and culture, and particularly the trade routes that run through this area.

C. You leverage a friendlier relationship between them and the goblins. Diplomacy starts at home. If they can look out for each other, it would make things easier.

D. You don’t ask for anything. Their feelings of gratitude are good enough for you.

***
As for the ten silver coins they tried to give you as payment...

A. You give the money back. They need it more than you do.

B. You trade what seems to be to you an acceptable amount of loot from the dead for the money. You can’t carry it all anyway.

C. The money is yours. They gave it to you.

 

[Baltika9]

treave, is the first choice what we believe, or what we're making them believe?

 

[treave]

The words are the excuse you are giving them. For you, looting dead mobs is just something you do as a Hero, so you haven't given a lot of thought as to why you personally do it and can't be bothered to, so all three options can actually be simplified to "Because I want to" and "Because they gave me a lot of trouble" for you.

But they might take it differently.

 

[Baltika9]

C I want to raise them as idealists, then.
B>A We're sorely lacking in two areas right now: information and tits. We need the info more, but I'm cool with more tits, too.
C lolwut.

“Ah.” You exhale, taking in the scent of blood and the cries of the maimed. There is a nervous twitch in your fingers desiring more, telling you to accept it, to embrace it, to drown in it, to revel in it, to paint your white wings red with the blood of your enemies and turn their essence into your strength. In your mind you can almost see and hear a chorus of winged angels singing war. The feeling is strong, but it passes swiftly, leaving behind no more than a malingering memory of bloodlust. An ancestral instinct, a racial memory: whatever it is, it does not seem good for business. An instinct too wrapped up with the wrong sort of bodily fluids, as far as you are concerned.

Yeah, gotta be careful with this. We ignored it today, but this feeling has been a pattern and I don't want to see where it leads.

 

[Elfberserker]

Man, I am kind of torn between Goblin diplomancy and information reward.
Information is something that we sorely need, even if it's about local information, but friendly realitionship with Goblins and humans may bring more long-time benefits.
Alliance would relieve our self from defending both of them from every bandit or other small fry attacks and it could potentially lead more prosperity to both sides due trade in long run.

 

[Nevill]

For you, looting dead mobs is just something you do as a Hero, so you haven't given a lot of thought as to why you personally do it and can't be bothered to, so all three options can actually be simplified to "Because I want to" and "Because they gave me a lot of trouble" for you.

This. No one gives us a lot of trouble and expects us to leave it at that. They have made us work, and we expect a decent pay-off from that. Isn't it a lucky coincidence that they also do not need their possessions anymore?

B. “They can’t take their earthly belongings with them when they pass on to… well, wherever it is you believe dead people go to.” The dead have no more use for their belongings, but you do. It’s only fair after all that trouble they made you go through.

Also. Where. Is. Rin!?

I am getting worried.

A. You ask the chief to give you the prettiest girl in the village. Nothing else will suffice.

We need a maid, since Rin refuses to do any house-keeping. And even if she didn't, I would not let her anywhere near the kitchen anyway.

B. You trade what seems to be to you an acceptable amount of loot from the dead for the money. You can’t carry it all anyway.

Let's look more benigh while at the same time leaving what we can't carry anyway. We'll appear good and noble and won't have to drag a ton of worthless junk with us. It is all about efficiency, both in managing loot and diplomatic relationships.

We won't be able to take all of the loot as it is, but now there are people that are grateful to us for it, at no additional effort.

 

[asxetos]

A. Profit!
C. Petze will be happy.
B. Its practical.
Also Lambchop19 the only thing those numbers tell me is that we clearly need more parrots with hats

 

[Nevill]

Alliance would relieve our self from defending both of them from every bandit or other small fry attacks and it could potentially lead more prosperity to both sides due trade in long run.

treave, what is their stance on non-humans?

Is it even possible to leverage such a thing? I certainly wouldn't try it with Barzamites based on their reaction.

I am afraid to, again, be put in a situation where 'you can ask for it but it doesn't necessarily mean you can receive it'. And if there is no guarantee, I'd rather not have them know we are at all connected to the gobbo village, what with Mieren's body being kept in the dungeon and keeping us grounded to the place.

I am just not sure how open we can be to these people, even though we saved them.

 

[treave]

I'll preview C then. This was going to be in the current update, but I wasn't sure how to make it fit:

"A question, Chief Enzel, if I may. What do you think of goblins?"

Enzel seems surprised. He turns around and looks at the rest of the villagers, who look equally apprehensive about the question.

"Why... why do you ask, sir mage?"

"Curiosity. I am a foreigner in these lands, as I have said. Please, be as truthful as you can. I do not mean the question in ill intent."

"O...okay." Enzel takes a deep breath. "It is... just that it is a strange question, sir. According to the Faith of the Five Gods only we humans have been blessed with a pure soul. Goblins, beastmen, or whatever you have it... we can't be friendly with the likes of them."

"I see." You keep your face carefully impassive.

"But..." Enzel scratches his balding head in embarrassment. "That is what the temple says. Out here in the countryside people tend to be a bit more lax. I mean, personally, I don't have anything against them, y'know. There's a village of them somewhere in the forest, I think. I mean, of course I've heard of the stories. Goblins attack and eat people. And I'm pretty sure it happens... but we haven't had any problems from the goblins here at all. I've been living here sixty years, and though I see them time to time in the trees, they've never come hunting for my head."

The other villagers murmur, nodding.

Enzel continues, "The way I figure it, sir, we have good humans and we have bad humans. We were just attacked by those raiders, and they were certainly human, while we've never been attacked by goblins even though we live in the same territory. So maybe there's good and bad goblins too. But I wouldn't know for sure, I suppose. Anyway, this is just the simplistic thinking of an old country hick, pay me no mind. I bet there's a thousand things wrong with my thoughts that the priests in the capital can point out."

"Don't you have a priest in the village?" you ask.

Enzel laughs. "Our priest was sent out here as punishment for punching the High Priest of Yuiria. He might drink and curse up a storm and be the liveliest man at a feast, but I wouldn't go to him for religious pointers, oh no, sir mage!"

 

[lightbane]

Well, that went better than expected. Perhaps too much.

“Ah.” You exhale, taking in the scent of blood and the cries of the maimed. There is a nervous twitch in your fingers desiring more, telling you to accept it, to embrace it, to drown in it, to revel in it, to paint your white wings red with the blood of your enemies and turn their essence into your strength. In your mind you can almost see and hear a chorus of winged angels singing war. The feeling is strong, but it passes swiftly, leaving behind no more than a malingering memory of bloodlust. An ancestral instinct, a racial memory: whatever it is, it does not seem good for business. An instinct too wrapped up with the wrong sort of bodily fluids, as far as you are concerned.

Carnage Pigeon's bloodlust takeover: 30% complete. Clearly we should watch out and NOT Devour Soul go Rambo everytime we're given the chance, unless you want this to be the only choice available to us.

You lower your blood-stained sword. It was not to say that these soldiers are weak: in fact, you would rank them as above average amongst the human armies that you have crossed swords with. They are not shrinking peasants who barely knew which end of the spear to hold, and have definitely survived battle more than a few times. However, the gap in experience is just too great to surmount. In your quest to defeat the Demon Lord you had been thrown into impossible odds against impossible numbers far too many times to count. Even if you have no magic, even if they were more skilled in arms, this is by no means a fair fight.

DRAKENGARD!! I mean, I wonder what's the average mortality rate for aspiring Heroes. Even before becoming a Gayngel, Erdrick has seemingly trained hard enough to be a Space Marine. Twice. I'm surprised he hasn't developed at least three kinds of different PTSD by now. Perhaps the Godesses' clerics are well-versed into mental restoration magic (or mind-wiping).


Anyway, the choices:

1: A>B>C. We want our child-soldiers to have ideals, if only so they do not devolve into mindless bloodthirsty maniacs. That's something reserved for more expendable pawns, not for someone with potential like them. Also, this is a convoluted way of trolling the enemy, so I give it extra approval points. Or at least we ensure the kids don't become complete sociopaths, that's a kind of behaviour that only (ex)Heroes are allowed to have. However, having a pragmatic point of view is not that bad as long as we keep it under control (plus if they believe in the afterlife, it might become troublesome later on when we acquire resurrection/necromancy magic).


2: A>C>B. Finally, we're given the choice to ask for a sacrifice pretty girl, as I mentioned several updated ago. EDIT: I like how that priest guy sounds. We should make efforts to recruit him. However, asking them for info about the region is not a bad consolation prize if A or C fails. We must learn more about that Adventurer's Guild.


3: B. We are not going to carry too much stuff back home, Erdrick has done more than enough effort for today, for not to mention it could attract the wrong kind of attention. Additionally, Erd should ask for the fanciest and biggest hat they have (or craft one if they don't). We cannot go around with this hood forever.


Lastly, I think this update is lacking something... Ah, yes, I found it:

Dammit, Rin.

By the way, what happened with the wounded enemy commander? I assume she was dragged away with the survivors, but perhaps she was hit by a stray arrow and didn't make it, I don't know.

 

[Nevill]

Clearly we should watch out and NOT Devour Soul go Rambo everytime we're given the chance, unless you want this to be the only choice available to us.

Agreed. We should fry people with lightning, making it as bloodless as possible without actually reducing the killcount.

 

[Grimgravy]

The boy will need corrupting. He loves his sister. He'll follow us only for her at this point. How best to bring him around?

C>B - A will not be taken well by the boy.
C=B - Either will do. Whatever gets us the update.
B - We can't take it all. Might as well get some goodwill.

 

[treave]

By the way, what happened with the wounded enemy commander by the way? I assume she was dragged away with the survivors, but perhaps she was hit by a stray arrow and didn't make it, I don't know.

You don't know, Erdrick was too busy loving his murdershit to notice, which he sorely regrets and is concerned about.