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The Redsea Saga - Episode One.

Discussion in 'Choose Your Own Adventure Land' started by The Barbarian, Jun 2, 2011.

  1. The Barbarian Liturgist

    The Barbarian
    Joined:
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    Location:
    Melbourne, Australia
    The Redsea Saga

    ***

    Welcome, friends and comrades. The Barbarian is tired of not putting digital pen to digital paper. In recognizing this fundamental truth, he has decided to begin another circlejerk in this fine place. He hopes that you find it to your liking. It is very different from the Codexian Saga. Rather than a 4X, it is instead a 'Choose Your Own Adventure' story. The choices and consequences involved are on a different level (that is to say, within a fixed framework), but recall the best traditions of Fighting Fantasy, Lone Wolf and their ilk. This circlejerk is set within a world of Conan's imagining and is portrayed in the second person.

    ***

    This is the story of one man. Whether it is the story of a good man, a bad man - or someone in between - remains to be seen. But it is his story. His tale to tell. At times he weaves a tapestry of mirth and laughter. At others, he paints scenes with crimson red. Let us see how the story goes. Let us begin the Redsea Saga...

    ***

    Index

    Thread filter: only Conan's post visible, so that those reading from the start can do so in order - Idea Courtesy of SCO

    Reserved.



    Dramatis Personae

    You - Self-named 'Innocent'. Possessed of advanced weapons, bionic improvements and advanced training. Looking for a man of average height and built - with a very particular tattoo at the base of his skull - sometimes called 'Rivera'.

    Kindra - A lithe blonde woman with a stutter she seems to only have sometimes. You met her attempting to scavenge goods from your stricken escape pod. There is something strange about her. She has taken you to Iris, so that your quest can truly begin.

    Elias - Slave trader and ruler of Iris. A blue eyed, middle aged man with a very nasty smile. He puts you on edge and offers what seems to be a Faustian bargain.
     
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  2. The Barbarian Liturgist

    The Barbarian
    Joined:
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    Location:
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    Episode One - Falling, falling...

    ***

    You wake with a start.

    Suddenly lidless eyes desperately search your surroundings for a clue as to the what and the where of your situation. Your back arches - unwelcome pain instantly shoots through your body - and you finally begin to breathe. Convulsions follow. It is pitch black all around. As the microseconds tick away, the memories begin to seep into place. At first a trickle, then a raging flood.

    Intro Music

    You had thought that your escape was made good. Though the pod itself was tiny, it was also fast. Very fast. The orbital ingress seemed effortless. Then the Confederates plinked your tiny craft during its terminal descent. You doubt they made too much of an effort. This was a simple drop-off to a penal colony, after all. In the grand scheme of things, what was one pod to a supply carrier? You curse your luck. They probably got you as an afterthought. Nearly killed a Justice while they were at it!

    Well, maybe that last part did not matter so much, anymore. Last you heard, half the galaxy was burning. The office of the Judiciary was not what it used to be. In the darkness, you begin to grope for the pod's manual release lever. Clumsily at first, but your muscle memory kicks in soon enough, and you quickly find what you are looking for. With a strong hiss the canopy decouples, and light - blinding light - washes into the cockpit.

    Releasing the buckles holding you in place, you gingerly step out of the pod, shielding your sensitive eyes from the sun with both hands. You stumble and trip, but manage to land on your feet nonetheless, and instantly you can feel coarse earth under your boots.

    This is it. This is Redsea.

    [​IMG]

    Home to hundreds of thousands of the most depraved filth the sector has to offer. And, according to the most reliable sources you could find, his home, too. You had found him, at long last. He had hidden away in plain sight, and done so successfully for far too long. This reckoning was well and truly past its due. Then again, he certainly had an animal cunning to him. Redsea was one big, parched desert. Dotted with tiny settlements and a few centres of industry. Kept alive by the grace of God and a few constantly fought-over super aquifers. The convicts traded rare earth metals for supplies when the Confederate supply convoys arrived to drop off more human refuse and pick up Redsea's mineral fruits. As hiding places go, you decide, he picked well. It was easy to disappear here.

    You wonder just how far from the nearest settlement you really are.

    Groaning, you stretch your arms and legs and turn back toward the pod. Your groan worsens when you see the black plume reaching up into the sky. It is like a beacon for all the world to see. You decide that the scavengers will be along shortly to pick this carcass clean. With a vigour born of necessity, you clamber back up into the cockpit of the stricken pod. Within a minute or so, you manage to gather your supplies. A cursory stocktake reveals that you now have ten days of field rations, three days of water (worrying), a 2mm needler with six magazines, a blanket, your personal data pad and the rosary. For a moment, you clutch the latter.

    Steeling yourself, you suddenly realise that maybe the revealing smoke can serve a purpose after all. How else are you to find out where all the roads lead to on this benighted rock? You need a guide. A local. Someone who can take you to the places you need to go. It does not take you long to find a suitable position atop a nearby embankment. Your training makes the whole process largely automatic. Soon, you are barely visible without a close inspection. The waiting game begins.

    Few thoughts cloud your mind as the hours pass. In fact, you find yourself eerily calm. Unperturbed. He is close, at last. Then, almost as if only a moment had expired, you hear the telltale whoor of a vehicle in the close vicinity of the pod. Your eyes slowly narrow, as you ready the deadly needler. Soon, a skulking figure appears, gingerly moving toward your fallen craft. Shortly, you determine that the figure is, in fact, a female.

    She moves with a strange grace, seemingly quite alert to potential danger. You give her time to get comfortable. She works quickly. But her curiosity rapidly gets the better of her, and she drops her guard somewhat. It is more than enough. You move swiftly and silently. Suddenly, you are only a few meters away.

    'Raise your arms slowly, then turn and face me, please.' Your voice is even and measured.

    Though she is obviously startled, her movements are similarly measured. She raises her arms and begins turning around. Your biotic eyes quickly scan her as she does so. Human-baseline, female, mid-20s likely. Attractive. Dirty blonde hair, slim, just under five-feet-seven, delicately featured. No visible armament, apart from a curved blade tucked away at her waist and an archaic slow-projective weapon on her back. That is to say, nothing dangerous.

    [​IMG]

    'Y-your boat, I'm guessin'' she says, wide-eyed.

    'Indeed. What is your name?'

    'K-Kindra' she stutters, after some hesitation.

    'What is your last name, Kindra?' you ask.

    'I g-got no last name, Mr.' she answers, her eyes now firmly on the needler pointing at her centre mass.

    'Fine then, Kindra. Just fine. Please do not concern yourself about the weapon. If you do exactly as you are told, it will not trouble you in the least. Also, please be aware that I am quite proficient at using it. Do not try to escape, to harm me or to disobey direct instructions. Is this clear?'

    She nods profusely.

    'L-listen, Mr... That weapon... You could be a rich man here. I know people. You could-' you cut her off with a sharp shake of your head.

    'Please be quiet. I want you to take me to whatever settlement you hail from. Now.' You are quite brusque.

    'O-okay. I c-can do that.' There is definitely something strange about her, but you cannot quite put your finger on it.

    'F-follow me, I have a s-small buggy a few hundred meters yonder.' She motions, and begins to walk in the direction of her vehicle. As she passes you by, you make the mistake of disengaging your weapon. In an instant, she lashes out. Fast! Quite precise, too. However, you are much faster. Your hand closes over hers, like a vice. You squeeze, and she yelps in pain. A bone in her hand snaps.

    'Kindra, I have warned you to not attempt to harm me, and to not attempt to escape. You have just attempted both.' Your finger moves over the trigger.

    Do you... execute her? The buggy has made tracks you can follow easily enough. It cannot be that hard to operate. You do not need the luggage. Be done with it.

    OR

    Do you... spare her life? The warning was sufficient. Who knows what the buggy is like, and what kind of reception you might get back at whatever settlement she is from without her at the wheel?
     
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  3. juggernaut Educated

    juggernaut
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    Barbarian back in business :salute: Space western? Looking forward to it!

    Spare her life, but tie her up or something. Until we know more about the settlement we should keep her alive for information or a bargaining chip, etc.
     
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  4. grotsnik Prestigious Gentleman Arcane

    grotsnik
    Joined:
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    This. It'd be rather untoward to murder the only other character we've met, but there's no point in being incautious. Besides, we can always scout out any settlement in question before actually approaching, can't we?

    In addition to all of this, :salute:, dear fellow.
     
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  5. anus_pounder Arcane

    anus_pounder
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    :what:

    :yeah: :bro: :dance: :bravo: :salute: :D :incline: :bounce:

    B

    Lets no go extreme just yet.
     
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  6. Phelot Arcane

    Phelot
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    Yeah, B. No need for violence quite yet and besides, breaking her hand was extreme enough :lol:
     
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  7. Esquilax Arcane

    Esquilax
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    Just looked at the thread title and starter, nothing else. Just wanted to mention that I CUMMED BUCKETS!!!11!! Will be voting as soon as I manage to wipe the semen off my computer screen.
     
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  8. SoupNazi Arcane Patron

    SoupNazi
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    Where's the complimentary Codex option, "rape her"?

    B, anyway.
     
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  9. Orgasm Barely Literate

    Orgasm
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    Fuck yeah!!!

    AAA, attractive characters turn out to be evil in good fiction.
    And you dont reassure someone that she is safe if you point a gun at her or they try dumb stuff. So now its CnC. Kill.

    But...
    Soundtrack was too epic.
    Stuttering was done wrong. I've seen Kings Speech, I am an expert.
     
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  10. Crooked Bee (no longer) a wide-wandering bee Patron

    Crooked Bee
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    A!

    :twisted:

    P.S. Barbarian-sensei, don't forget to switch to your other account from time to time. We need that Space 1889 LP alive and well. :roll:
     
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  11. Gondolin Arcane

    Gondolin
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    B

    You can always kill her later.

    Also: MOAR!
     
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  12. golgepapaz Augur

    golgepapaz
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    Divinity: Original Sin Wasteland 2
    A
    let's go with an extremely evil son of a bitch this time around. The Codex has grown soft...
     
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  13. Esquilax Arcane

    Esquilax
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    Haha, you can always count on Orgasm and Bee to go for the EXTREME option. I don't trust her either, and she's definitely a lot more competent than she wants us to think she is. It's obvious to me that this young lady obviously has some underworld connections, based on her mentioning that she knows people that would pay good money to purchase our weapon. We can use those connections to maybe get a lead on some of the major players in the nearby settlement. And to perhaps get a few hints on our man.

    However, I think she might suspect that we're a cop. Since the planet we're in is basically one giant penal colony, she could easily tell some people that she knows who we are. With her dead, no one will know who we are or where we came from - we can make up whatever identity we like and use that to our advantage.

    On that note, I pick AAAA. Ruthless, Yojimbo-like protagonist ftw.

    However, if B wins out, I am against tying her up. We're a cop in a planet full of criminals, let's try and keep ourselves inconspicuous on a planet full of bloodthirsty animals. Just take her weapons from her; she won't try anything.
     
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  14. The Barbarian Liturgist

    The Barbarian
    Joined:
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    Location:
    Melbourne, Australia
    B conquered by some margin.


    Continued...

    ***

    Travelling Music / a gleaming vista

    The searing wind whips across your face, as the buggy races across the rocky landscape. Your duster is earning its keep, this day.

    'S-so, what's your name?' Kindra shouts in your general direction. In the end, you had spared her life. For a moment, you even felt guilty, having actually considered executing the girl over such a trifling offense. Nonetheless, your annoyance was growing more and more pronounced. This was the third inane question she had posed in the last ten minutes. Her eyes, hidden behind oversized goggles as they were, revealed nothing. You cannot tell if she is actually this stupid, or is merely feigning it to distract you. Something about her, however, makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up quite tall. That was never a positive sign, in your experience.

    'You may call me Innocent.'

    She turns again to you again, her hair flailing. 'Is t-that really your name?'

    'It is what you may call me.' As you give this answer, your eyes stay on the 'road'. Or the lack thereof, rather, seemingly stretching into forever before you. 'Are you certain we are heading in the right direction?'

    'Yes, Mr. "Innocent", I t-t-told you. Th-this is the w-way to Iris. It's t-the only settlement in a t-thousand miles.' Her stutter almost seems to be getting worse.

    'I believe you, Kindra.' A long moment passes. 'Are you in pain?'

    She looks at you for a moment. 'Oh. No, it's f-fine. I wish you hadn't b-broken it, t-though.' You say nothing. She does not bother suggesting that you loosen the bonds holding her hands together. Trust was at a premium, in this fledgling convergence of interests.

    'Mr, are you s-sure you don't wanna' t-trade for that weapon? Or the D-d-pad? I c-could hook you up with some p-people who could give you a good price. A g-great price. I'd only ask for a s-small commission.'

    Despite yourself, you laugh. The idea that you would give up your needler in this situation was exactly that; laughable. For money, no less. Kindra simply looks at you. Perhaps she is bewildered by the reaction.

    'Where do you c-come from, Mr.?'

    Your voice grows colder. 'Somewhere else. Kindra, kindly stop asking questions. I have had a... difficult day.' You jump in your seat slightly, as the buggy goes over yet another loose rock. Grudgingly, you concede that it is a robust vehicle. Built for the terrain and arid conditions. You wonder how it ended up on a penal colony. There were no wardens, here. No guards. You had half expected to find nothing but rotting bodies and a few miserable shanty towns on this orb of red earth and harrowing wind. And him.

    'Y-your day will get b-better, Mr. Iris is close. Real c-close.'

    ***

    [​IMG]

    Naturally, it is to be another three hours before you are finally afforded a glimpse of what passes for 'civilization' on Redsea. As you approach the town, you realise that your initial assessment of the situation was not entirely accurate. Iris seems to be a full-blown mining facility. A roughly circular and totally enclosed metallic dome, it is an oasis amidst the sands and the rock. A decrepit, rusting oasis - but an oasis nonetheless. Kindra awkwardly waves at you to slow down, as you near the main gate. You do so almost instinctively. There is activity up ahead. The gate rises, slowly, and two figures walk out from the darkness. Your eyes focus in on the rifles slung over their shoulders. Primitive, yes, but reasonably dangerous. Where did these convicts get real weapons?

    You grasp the needler, still hidden under the flaps of your duster. The natives un-sling their rifles and warily move toward your buggy.

    'Kindra, is that you? Are you 'right?' the older one on the left shouts out. His greying beard betrays his age, even from a distance.

    'I'm f-fine, Lucky. Just f-fine. This is Innocent. He's h-here to see Elias.'

    The man on the right speaks out, his voice thin and highly pitched. 'Is he armed?' Kendra looks at you. 'Y-yes. But he's here to t-trade.' You fail to grasp the significance of that qualifier. Leaning in, she whispers, 'M-Mr., you should untie me, n-now. They might not like seeing me tied up.' You comply immediately and wordlessly, as the two men continue to close the distance between them and the buggy. They stop a few metres away, considering you in detail. Their fingers hang over rusting triggers. You estimate that you could likely kill both before they could even take aim. These are not trained men.

    'Alright, go on.' You are unceremoniously waved through the gate. The men continue to eye you, as your buggy trundles past, and into Iris.
    ***

    The inside is dank and poorly lit. A few figures can be made out, here and there, in the darkness. They are watching you. You are wary of activating night vision mode, as your eyes would take on a green hue - this does not seem a good idea, all things considered. You settle for your standard, far above average dark vision, instead. Farther away, the clanging sounds of industry can be heard. This mining operation may very well still be active. Something certainly is, anyway. Soon, Kindra points out an appropriate parking spot, and you disembark. She motions to you and leads the way forward through a maze of winding corridors. Though apprehensive, you nonetheless follow closely.

    ***

    Eventually, you find yourself in a well constructed hall of some sort. More guards can be seen. They all wear some kind of weapon - though few seem to have the chemical rifles of the guards at the entrance of the complex. They watch you closely, and you watch them back. Colorful, intricate graffiti marks the walls all around you. Mentally, you concentrate on mapping out your route, in case you have to make an inopportune exit. Suddenly, a bald man interjects himself between you and Kindra, forcing you to stop mid-stride. He stands at least six foot four inches tall. More brawny than muscular, you nonetheless imagine him to be quite intimidating to his fellows. His stare is murderous, as he looks down at you, swaying threateningly from side to side. The needler stays firmly against your hip. If it comes down to it, your plan is to strike his throat and solar plexus, in that order. Though he is much bigger and heavier than you, there is little chance that can muster more power and raw strength. The whole issue becomes academic a moment later, as the brawler stumbles forward with a sickening thud, landing on his face.

    'Have some decorum, Rodriq.' A voice rings out. It belongs to a middle aged man with a nasty smirk and strange scarring on his cheeks. Kindra stands by his side. A vicious baton extends from his right hand. His eyes are exceedingly blue. He smiles at you.

    'Don't mind the lout. Welcome to my humble abode, sir. You have already met Kindra, who works for me. My name is Elias. I am the proprietor of this fine facility. I hear you bring a most fortunate trading opportunity to my door.' Before you can answer, he is already sitting on an ornate chair - or a throne?

    'Perhaps. I am here for information and reliable means of transport.'

    'And what is your name, seeker of information and locomotion?' Elias' smile continues to be unpleasant.

    'Innocent,' you answer.

    'Innocent of what? Are you the only real innocent on Redsea? No matter. I know you have a needler and a D-pad on your person. Very valuable items. Locomotion is not a serious problem. What is the information you seek?'

    You cannot help but to shuffle in place, nervously. 'I am looking for someone. An individual who often goes by the name "Rivera". Have you heard such a name?'

    Elias' steely blue eyes reveal nothing. 'Not at all. Most who come to Redsea lose their names along the way. Few, indeed, are fortunate to retain a last name. Those convicted of the worst crimes even have their memories wiped by our Confed "benefactors". It is a sad, sad story.' His voice is tainted by a characteristic drawl. 'Do you have any further information on this person?'

    You consider your answer carefully. 'He is of average height and build. His skin has been known to change tone, though it was quite dark a few years ago. He keeps his head shaven, and there is a very particular tattoo at the base of his skull.'

    '... No, nothing. Unless he, too, came down like a shooting star, though, I can at least point you in the right direction. And get you where that direction leads.'

    Your gaze is even. 'And what will this cost me?'

    Elias laughs heartily. 'Oh, just the needler and the D-pad.'

    You do not hesitate. 'Unacceptable.'

    'Maybe so, but consider your choices. Redsea is not a hospitable place. And for all the things you may have, what you haven't is a clue. My men barter their labour in exchange for food, shelter, slaves and drugs. If you want any of that in Iris - let alone the things you seek - then you must offer something in return. That is Trade. That is Law.'

    You cannot help grimacing. Law, indeed.

    Do you... give up your needler and data pad? In the end, they are conveniences. You will kill Him by any means necessary - no one said it had to be neat. The important thing is to get to him, as quickly as possible, and Elias affords you that opportunity.

    OR

    Do you... try to negotiate, without giving up your items? Surely, this Elias will accept a substitute. In the end, an exchange of services might be more palatable. Besides, you trust this individual only as far as you can throw him. Maybe less than that.

    OR

    Do you... wring your hands of this person? Maybe someone else in Iris can help. And, if not, you can always commandeer a buggy, a hostage and hope for the best. Or something like that. You do not need Iris or its contrivances. The best laid plans of mice and men...
     
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  15. The Barbarian Liturgist

    The Barbarian
    Joined:
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    Location:
    Melbourne, Australia
    Also, please note, for the next week, the pace of updates will be uncertain. Then there will be a bonanza period in late June and July. As of August, twice a week at the most will be the norm.

    Edit:

    One more thing to note. The Redsea Saga is going to be a 'season' long (between eleven and thirteen episodes, depending on choices made). Each episode will have multiple updates (usually, between four and six).
     
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  16. anus_pounder Arcane

    anus_pounder
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    B!

    Lets not hand over our weapon to this guy we just met.
     
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  17. GarfunkeL Racism Expert

    GarfunkeL
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    Insert clever insult here
    B! Awesome music choices, too.
     
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  18. Gondolin Arcane

    Gondolin
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    B

    We don't even know if he knows anything worth trading for.
     
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  19. Crooked Bee (no longer) a wide-wandering bee Patron

    Crooked Bee
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    Codex 2013 Codex 2014 PC RPG Website of the Year, 2015 Codex 2016 - The Age of Grimoire MCA Serpent in the Staglands Dead State Divinity: Original Sin Project: Eternity Torment: Tides of Numenera Wasteland 2 Shadorwun: Hong Kong Divinity: Original Sin 2 BattleTech Pillars of Eternity 2: Deadfire
    Definitely not A.

    Either B or C, I dunno. :?
     
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  20. juggernaut Educated

    juggernaut
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  21. ironyuri Guest

    ironyuri
    We already spared that Kindra bitch's life. Why the fuck are we now trading away all we've got?

    Who is to say we give up our needler and he doesn't have us buried in a shallow grave in the desert.

    Fuck that, BROS.

    Also, why negotiate with this scumfuck? He's made it clear- his law is the law.

    Wash our hands of him and go XTREME!

    C
     
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  22. SoupNazi Arcane Patron

    SoupNazi
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    I think we should go for A, if only to explore that option as I can't remember a single story (game, movie, book or otherwise) where anyone, ever, gave up their weapons.

    Besides, what can go wrong?

    A.
     
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