#and the numerus people who agreed with them

[your-local-grubdog]

Tbh I never understood the people who get upset at the idea pikmin 4 may be a reboot? I'm not even talking about those who disagree with the idea or otherwise think it isn't a reboot. You're entitled to your opinion. I'm talking about the people who get heated over it. Who insist it would be a terrible choice, that it makes no sense, that Nintendo "clearly" doesn't care about the story if that's the case, and insults anyone who suggests it may be a reboot.

Like... It kinda does make sense, though? The franchise is over 20 years old now and has been put on pause for roughly a decade; the series has a few new writers, old writers could have changed their minds on some things, and that's not even getting into the fact that most people playing Pikmin 4 would be new to the series, and a good chunk of returning players are casuals who may have forgotten certain story details. Hell, I'd argue a decent number of players starting with Pikmin 4 hadn't even been BORN yet when Pikmin 3 was released.

Regardless if you think Pikmin 4 is a reboot, I think it's easy to see why it potentially being one would be a good call on Nintendo's part. It gives them the freedom to do what they want/need to do with the story while not being held back by 10-20 year old details. They'd also get to reverse any more questionable choices, like Pangea Ultima in Pikmin 3.

It gives the story a fresh start. Again, if you think it needed it or that it even is a fresh start is your own call. I just never understood the people who got like... Angry over it, to the point of insulting Nintendo and anyone who thought it may be a reboot over it.

[badmoonyellow]

HP HEADCANON: PARIS UNIVERSITY

𝓵𝓮𝓼 𝓯𝓪𝓬𝓾𝓵𝓽𝓮𝓼 ✯ 𝓊𝓃𝒾𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒾𝓉𝒾𝑒𝓈

(click here for contents)

There are five different facultés (abr. fac) in Paris, each one called by a number and the name of a famous wizard/witch or a district in Paris. Each fac has its specificities and various pathways that should please most of the young students trying to find what they want to do with their life after they graduate

Paris I — Babel: Modern languages, dead languages, magical languages, magicology, magical literature, theoretical studies of magical and non-magical art

Paris II — Ruggieri: Astrology, astronomy, divination, theology, psychology, philosophy and sociology

Paris III — Nicolas et Pernelle Flamel: Alchemy, occult sciences, arithmancy and mathematics, magical and non-magical medicine, biology

Paris IV — Cluny: Botanics, care of magical creatures, potions, magical geology and crystal healing, elementary magic

Paris V — Kardec: Necromancy, spiritism, divination, transfiguration, illusionism and oneiric magic, hypnosis and psychology

French students either use the number or the name of the uni to refer to it, never both. Ex: “I did my masters at Paris IV”, “I was a teacher at Cluny for two years” or “Flamel has the best course for arithmancy”

Paris universities are known for being selective but welcome students from every social class: there are no tuition fees except for social security which is calculated on the income of the student or their household if they still live with their parents. The more you earn, the more you pay but it is capped to 20 galleons per student (roughly 450€). If you’re doing a joint honour degree in two different fac, you won’t have to pay twice.

Be careful with this because French bureaucracy is kind of a mess, especially when it comes to uni life. Most people working for the administration have a precise timetable they like to stick to and won’t be kind to you if you raise your voice, even if you’ve been waiting for 2h at their door because the only free time you had is during their lunch break. But sometimes, the right owl sent to the right person will be enough, so don’t hesitate to communicate!

Depending on which fac you’re attending, you’ll probably meet a lot of different people but since we’re French (a.k.a. judgmental), each fac has a typical profile of students:

Students from Babel are considered clever and cultivated but most people think they just don’t really know what they want to do with their life yet. They enjoy uni life in Paris and spend time hanging out with a great deal of foreign students from every part of the world, learning and researching for academic purpose. They create more or less harmful spells and like to talk in latin or ancient greek on a daily basis. They make inside jokes about politics and are the first ones to go on strike any time they don’t agree with the government’s decisions. Very diplomatic and charismatic but also kinda conceited since Babel was the first actual French magical faculté in the Sorbonne (this title is also claimed by the Perrault Institute). They love to debate about any topic of the wizarding world and for the most part, they know a lot about the non-magical world too since they study languages spoken by muggles as well.

Students from Ruggieri are more discreet and contemplative. They are passionate and having your astral chart drawn up by one of them feels like becoming an open book, even though knowing about astrology doesn’t always mean being intuitive. They aren’t known for being empathetic though, and they have a tendency to despise divination techniques that aren’t based on what’s written in the stars (students from Kardec can tell). They love mythology, mind games and poetry. They often go to the countryside beyond Paris’ suburbs to escape light pollution and if you’re lucky, they might invite you to their next nocturnal picnic in Seine-et-Marne.

Students from Flamel are hard-working and competitive since medicine studies (and other courses taught in this university) follow the numerus clausus method. You have more chances to see a Flamel student at the BAM (Bibliothèque Académique de Magie, en. Academic Library for Magic) than attending any of the cool parties young French witches and wizards organise throughout the year. Actually, since the BAM is physically part of Paris I, this has created a long-time resentment among students who all claim priority to access the Library. Flamel students are ambitious and passionate by their field but suffer from a great deal of pressure since failing one exam can be  eliminatory. They also have the worst writing ever.

Students from Cluny are seen as the weird hippies of the academic wizarding world. Always down for going on a trip or testing new things. Their shared interest in elementary magic makes them very welcoming and warm since they tend to focus on how a group is stronger than an individual and how you can always seek for help in others (“others” sometimes meaning plants, animals or rocks). They are very genuine and you won’t know for sure if they are really down-to-earth or if they constantly keep their head in the clouds. They love going outdoors and escape the city from time to time but they can also spend hours (days) underground cultivating fungi. Laugh now if you want to, but they get the best kind of psychedelics and liquors for your next party and they won’t bring any if you make fun of them. Also, they throw their own parties in cool speakeasies all over the Mines. Keep your ears open if you want to get the password!

Students from Kardec are actually the real anarchists of the academic landscape, even though Babel tries to steal their far-left thunder. Non-conformists, skeptical and teasing, they love throwing some unpopular opinion in a debate and watch how it takes. You’ll see them at protests and art events since they hang out a lot with students from the ENSBAMO and the Académie de Musique. They generally have no filter whatsoever and are also trying to figure out what they want to do with their life but even though they seem a bit puzzling at times, they’re really sweet. They might know their way around the Mines better than students from Cluny and believe me when I tell you this: they throw the best Halloween party every year — apparently being located in a cemetery helps a lot.

Of course, these are reputations, not distinctive character traits and every student is different from the other so don’t worry: you’ll fit right in wherever you want to go!

[the-wiresmarvelau]

T.H.E. W.I.R.E.S.

Peter and his Friends are allowed to design the compound and couldn’t help but riddle it with secret tunels and hallways. While Peter installs said hallways he makes some new acquaintences who he has to help and gets help from.

Chapter 1, Chapter 3

Chapter 2: Dramatic enterance No. 1

The prisoner took a deep breath, closed his eyes and concentrated.

Concentrated on his knees and legs; tucked away underneath the weight of his torso.

Concentrated on his shoulders; tense and raised up to his ears.

Concentrated on his forehead and nose; laying on the insufferably warm stone floor.

Concentrated on the pain, pulsating in his black left eye and on the ripping, burning agony emanating from his lips, tong and cheeks; sewn together with silver wires and chains; embroidered to look like a wide, cruel silver grin.

"A silver chain to bind a silver tong" Odin had said while watching as the young, terrified guard pulled the wires through Loki’s parted lips.

The young man had shaken all over and rambled on about how stupid it was of him to mention to his peers that he liked to sew, then he wouldn't be punished for ‘enjoying a girl's job’.

All the while the prisoner beneath him glared at the allfather, determined not to cry out in pain and to stay in the present…

Because otherwise his head would bring him back in time to a scene oh so similar to this one.

Only that he hadn't been bound by chains then but by a dwarf, standing on his calf’s and hands, pushing down his shoulders.

The hands sewing his mouth shut hadn't shaken then.

He hammered his head against the floor, with a frustrated grunt.

These memories kept distracting him from the only chance, of preventing to collect more of them.

Loki wanted to scream in frustration but knew it would do more harm than good.

So, he took a couple deep breaths to calm down and began to concentrate again.

He concentrated on the hot stone against his shins and the top of his feet; And on the bruises all over his legs and sides, most of them either strained or compressed by his folded position on the floor.

Concentrated on the heat in the cuts and abrasions on his back. Loki still hadn't figured out when exactly he would be beaten; the periods of peace between the beatings where too irregular to follow a pattern.

Concentrated on his throat and the feeling of dry air grating through it with every breath he took; like sandpaper over chalk.

He concentrated on every fibre of his being looking for the small, tiny bits of magic he held; gathered it in a bundle just below his sternum and - when he felt like he had mustered up almost everything he had left - he began to channel it in a shallow rivulet and pushed it.

Pushed it up his chest, down his right arm into his wrist and from there: past the handcuffs that had until a few days ago, not only suppressed all of his ability to rebuild his own magic, but also kept him separated from his power’s origin and made him numb, blind even, to the magical streams, he knew were all around him.

But the guards had been sloppy.

One of the whip strokes had caught on his handcuffs and carved a small notch in the metal of his restraints. Just big enough to allow his magic to regenerate the tiniest fraction of his original power.

Not powerful enough to heal the numerus wounds Odin’s... "audiences" left behind. But sufficient, to ... say.. Send an illusion to his mother dearest.

Adopted or not, he loved her more than anything and he needed her to know what her husband was really doing to him over the past few years in the dungeons.

She was still under the impression that his punishment was simply isolation and had even send him a few books, which Odin had ripped apart and burned before his very eyes.

But before he could visit Frigga, he needed a plan.

During the time he had magic available again, he had tried to find out more about the Avengers, he had encountered back then on Midgard.

It would be the last place the other Gods would look, as his crimes there were the newest. But that didn’t mean hiding anywhere else was easier.

Additionally: Midgardians were far stricter regarding what did and did not count as a crime; while that might not sound advantageous to his cause, regarding that he had killed several dozen Midgardians. But by treating their prisoner much worse than was agreed upon, his captors violated those morals too. Thus, justifying a relocation.

Since the Avengers called themselves heroes, they probably had the moral compass to see it that way.

But for some reason, they seemed to have splintered and were preoccupied with what seemed to be the aftermath of whatever had divided them.

While he searched for others who might be able to help, the ravenette stumbled over a promising individual.

"Spider-Man" he called himself.

From what he'd gathered, the spider themed hero wasn't an Avenger but he had a close bond to Stark.

Otherwise, Ironman wouldn't've shown up, mere minutes after the aforementioned spider had been stabbed in the side, to bring him to the tower personally.

He also didn't kill any of the criminals he encountered and seemed repelled by it; rather trying to talk them into seeing their wrongdoings and changing their ways.

Additionally, he probably didn’t have a personal reason to dislike Loki; While the Avengers might still hold a grudge against him because of what happened with the Chitauri and the thing on the hellicarrier.

All in all, the spider seemed to be his best chance.

His only chance.

Keeping that in mind Loki focused on creating an illusion of himself on a, more or less random, roof within the young hero’s territory.

Since he wanted to be recognised, he gave the illusion the armour he had worn during the battle of New York, minus all the golden parts.

That way the boy could recognise him from pictures more easily, but he didn't look like he was going in for a fight.

He didn't bother to conceal the glowing that would give away the illusion’s nature. It was best to play his cards open, if he wanted to be trusted.

But he masked his black eye and other injuries.

His goal wasn't pity and his pride kept him from showing such vulnerability to a stranger.

The Jotun was aware though, that he might be forced to reveal his physical state; either as prof for the mistreatment or because changing his appearance drained a bit more magic than simply projecting himself.

And just like that, he waited.

It didn’t take long until he could see the kid swinging around. Loki tried not to turn around as the hero swung by.

Had he seriously not noticed him?

Normally the boy seemed to be automatically drawn to anything odd happening in his vicinity; did an illusion not register?

Giving in to his desire to look around just the tiniest bit, he turned his head a little to the side.

Relief flushed over him as he saw a red silhouette on a nearby roof in his periphery vision.

Spiderman looked at him. That meant that he had noticed the god.

Now he had to hope that their conversation would go well.

“KAREN..? activate ’don’t tell mom Protocol’ please”

‘Are you sure Peter? Whoever that is could mean you harm’ KAREN objected.

The worry in her voice sounded so real that the boy had to remind himself that she wasn’t, in fact, human.

“I’m sure,” he replied; sounding anything but. “If they wanted to hurt me my Spidey-sense would warn me about it”

‘Alright. Just remember that I am calling Mr. Stark the moment they touch you’

Peter couldn’t help but smile a little at how protective she sounded.

He began running over the roofs in the direction of the green shining figure.

They didn’t turn around when the hero arrived on their roof; They just lowered their head and brought their hands to the back, the palms turned up to be visible.

Even though the teenager wasn’t familiar with such behavioural customs, he understood that it was meant to show that they didn’t want to seem threatening and wouldn’t be the one to initiate this conversation.

“Excuse me?..” the younger one started, cringing at how childish he sounded.” Do I know you?”

Great. If he was wrong and this was a stranger, he had just made himself sound like a creep. And even if this was Loki, he couldn’t say that he knew him.

“You might have heard of me” The ravenette answered.

Slowly he dared to turn around; still carefully telegraphing his every move but conscious to make his movement seem graceful and smooth.

“Yeah, one could say that. You’re Mr. Loki, right? Thor’s brother?”

The addressee gave a single nod, taking the chance to bring up his head a bit.

He didn’t like to be personified over his adoptive brother, but rather Thor being the first association than the destruction he had caused while under the influence of Thanos.

“I thought you were grounded, for like.. forever?” the boy asked curiously; tilting his head to the side.

“How fortunate, then that this is only an illusion” Loki replied. He had seen the other one sassing pretty much everyone he had come across and hoped that mirroring that would make him more likable.

Otherwise, he would be screwed, because that was how he was used to speak and to change the way you speak long-term is tiresome.

But there seemed to be no need to.

“That explains so much. But what about the distance! Isn’t Asgard really far away? Or does that not affect illusions? ... Doesn’t matter right now! What is your illusion here for? I assume it`s not just to enjoy the view.”

The Jotun almost bit his lip, before registering that that was not a good idea in his current state.

“I’m here to ask a favour. -Or rather for help.” In that moment he regretted that he hadn’t led into this talk with a prepared speech. Asking for help was difficult.

“For you as in your people? Or you as an individual?” The Spider powered teenager asked, cautiously.

‘And I messed up.’ The Jotun thought ‘Of course he wouldn’t want to help me’

But the Midgardian continued before Loki could answer.

“I’m just asking, cause if it’s something all of you can’t handle, I wouldn’t know what I could do about it. Mr Stark would be a much greater help with that kinda thing.” He was about to continue on but shut himself up.

His teachers hated it when he just rambled on, and the face before him showed too little emotion to figure out if that was the case here, too. Better safe than sorry.

That was not what the trickster had expected.

“It’s not that kind of problem. And I doubt the Ironman would even be willing to hear me out, no matter what I’d have to say.” It was worded as a statement but the prisoner’s raised eyebrow seemed to ask for conformation.

“Yeaah.. You might be right on this one. He tends to hold on to grudges. But we’re working on it! He-..Anyways what can I help you with?” The young heroes body language changed like a boomerang from shy and embarrassed to excitedly proud and back to shy again.

If his conversational partner hadn’t been so utterly exhausted, he would have noticed how often he had cut himself of in this little time alone.

“Right. You see, the whole being .. ‘grounded’ as you described, it.. isn’t actually this. Harmless.”

The shorter tilted his head to the side and the lenses in his mask did a creepily good job at conveying a mix of scepticism and confusion.

“I know this sound unwarranted considering what happened. A-nd I wouldn’t be here if it was only the lifetime in prison that was agreed upon b-but.. It isn’t”

his voice broke and the image flickered, revealing the true appearance of the magician projecting it.

Curled on the ground with dried blood and open wounds covering almost every inch of his back and shoulders.

He had lost concentration a bit as memories and sensations washed over him for a second. Threatening to take over his thinking but he managed to push back.

This was his only chance.

He couldn’t mess up now. Now that somebody seemed to listen.. to care.

When he had gathered himself and looked up, He saw the eyes of the mask before him, wide with shock, and the body beneath it stiff.

Frozen in time.

The prisoner tried to make his image smile.

But it was drenched in dread and sadness. And his body froze; resembling the boy in front of his eyes.

Slowly, the stiffness in Peters body seemed to melt.

A finger twitched.

His arm began to inch upwards, while his shoulders began to sag.

The second arm wrapped itself around his waist, plucking at his suit subconsciously.

And, in a move that surprised even himself, the brunette pulled down his mask. Clutching it in his fist as if his life depended on it.

Peter didn’t care about KAREN`s protests right now.

He needed the god to understand, to know. That he believed him.

The Spidey-sense still hadn’t made an appearance, even though it normally alerted him to anything directly threatening him including his secret identity. *

Like pulling his mask of while people who might tell on him could see.

But he was either too absorb in what was happening or Loki just.. didn’t pose a threat whatsoever.

The god of mischief before him couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

How could a genuine superhero, for which paranoia and distrust seemed to come with the profession, trust him enough to reveal his otherwise hidden identity.

Just like that.

One of his titles literally was god of lies.

“I need somewhere to stay.” He whispered after a few beats of silence “somewhere I can rest.. And serve the rest of my sentence. Without – Odin, finding me.”. He didn’t bother to move his image’s lips.

The spider teen still needed to wrap his head everything while also trying to find a solution for this situation.

“Riiight... Uhm-..there’s uhh. Maybeishould.. no - he wouldn’t” It really didn’t help that to his already frantic thoughts, his super sense started to act up now; Telling him to PUT ON THAT MASK and TURN RIGHT.

He let out an irritated huff before following his instincts.

“Okay. I-I’ll figure that out. D-“

‘If I could remind you who you’re talking to. It may be in your best interest to hand over those matters to SHIELD or Mr. Stark.” KAREN chimed in.

“Not right now KAREN, I’ve got this. Mr. Loki, do you know how to get here? Because I have no idea how to get to Asgard let alone free you. Finding a hideout should be easier.”

His answer was a nod and after a beat of silence: “I should be able to contact . my mother in a few days. If I am correct she does not know of my treatment and will bring me here.”

Loki had carefully observed the Midgardian’s behaviour. Something to his right must have distracted him, for he turned his head that way before putting on his mask again. But there hadn’t been any movement nor was there anything attention-grabbing; just the roof and more buildings.

And then he started talking while scanning the street to their left with his eyes, only to stop in the middle of a word for several seconds and dismiss something his illusion’s ears couldn’t perceive.

For anybody else that would be a clear sign of hallucination, or worse; But he knew that this mortal before him had his own set of special skills and since Stark always seemed to talk to a somebody in his suit it wouldn’t be impossible that Spiderman’s suit was sentient too.

It wouldn’t be too farfetched to say the boy had his reasons.

“And what if she won’t?” the teen’s voice was small and just this side of trembling.

A few seconds went by in which the older of the two just stared at the younger in front of him.

His vision was unable to focus on the figure; But his mind...

His mind couldn’t seem to hang on to anything but the small frame in front of him.

On the hunch in the narrow shoulders; the tilt of his head, down and a bit to the side. On those slim hands and fingers who couldn’t seem to stop plucking on the black web covering the suit. On the fear in his voice and the knowledge that not once over the course of this talk did either of them lie. And not once did the hero lose a single bad word about him.

It took him a few second to gather his bearings.

By the time he was able to concentrate again, he had sat up, kneeling on the ground.

The body in front of him mirrored his position. Heavily suggesting that his illusion had yet again slipped to resemble reality.

He didn’t bother altering his appearance again. Instead, he tried to listen.

What first sounded like a murmured stream of incoherent rambling soon cleared up to be cautious, soft-spoken reassurances.

Things like ‘it’s gonna be okay’ ‘I’ll get you out of there’ and a lot of ‘safety awaits’.

Again.

Not once did he lie. Not once did he use present tense and not a single sentence invalidated the hurt he felt in that moment; like all the typical, sweet nothings people normally said would have done.

It broke the ice giant’s heart. To realise that this young, naïve mortal knew enough about pain and panic-attacks to be aware of such details.

“It’s alright. I’ve got it together again” He said and briefly masked his illusions mouth with a smile.

He got a nod in return.

“Does she need my name to find me? Or should I set up some sort of signal?” the boy asked. Trying to get the conversation on a more positive note again.

After all.

The God’s appearance had pretty much answered his question.

“I doubt she will miss someone running around in bright red spandex. I didn’t see that many people doing it.” He joked.

The teen knew this reaction all too well. Humour to distract from whatever it is you don’t wanna think about.

He would let it slide this once.

“But I’m not in my suit all the time!! What if something happens and she has to find me during the day?! Or I’m not allowed to go out that night?”

‘Right.’ The Jotun thought. ‘Midgardians keep their young under close surveillance much longer than we do.’

“I could show her an image of you.” He answered. “She will inform you of when and where she can hand me over.”

While saying that he had closed his eyes. Exhaustion clear on his face.

“Yeah! Sure. Gather your strength. I will prepare something for you.”

“I can’t thank you enough” were the last word he heard from the god, before the apparition disappeared, letting Peter alone on the roof.

Alone with his thoughts.

Down the street to his left stood a woman in a window, holding a camera.

She hadn’t managed to get a shot of the vigilante’s face. Or see it for that matter.

But she knew he had taken his mask of. Revealing his face to a green shining figure, strangely resembling the Norse god of mischief.

‘well done Jones.’ She thought ‘this might just become useful in the future.’

*I took this from the comics. In those Peters spider sense alerts him to anything threatening his interests, even bluffs while playing poker or reporters and cameras during identity compromising situations.

Chapter 1 Chapter 3

[basementadvco-blog]

The Mystery of Darkwood Down Part 7: Kneel

Our quick supply run complete, we agree that our next major destination should be the mines…but we decide to detour to the bank first. After all, the Numerus are now involved, and with the police investigating, it might be a good idea to be on their good side and share evidence if it means tracking them down more effectively, then it can’t hurt to check in with them. Besides, our group has played more than one campaign where we tried to side-step the local law enforcement, and it probably slowed us down more than it helped us…so let’s play nice for once.

The problem is…we don’t know what Bryan reported to them when he ran off the night before…and Novem looks EXACTLY like Nihil, which will make things incredibly awkward depending on how descriptive Bryan was.

Roseni goes in first, her telepathic link to people means that we don’t have to get them to admit the answer we’re looking for, just to think it. She stands in line and starts scanning people’s thoughts as Novem enters separately, walking up to 2 familiar police officers, Strunk and White. With some minor conversation work, Novem gets the police to give their side of the story, a bank teller who was “working late” heard a commotion in the vault. He was apparently “able to tell” it was 3 robots, and ran off to grab the police. Not the most airtight testimony, makes Bryan look suspicious, but he was cool enough to give a story that leaves Novem out of the picture.

Novem indicates she has some anonymous sources helping her locate the Numerous, and received a tip that they attempted to rob the bank last night, and thus has come here to look for more leads to track them down. As the police know that Novem was built by the city specifically to hunt Devils, including her own possessed siblings, and she hasn’t done anything wrong (in front of them), they’re willing to cooperate.

It’s when Officer White reviews the descriptions of the 3 perpetrators, she comes to Nihil, and gets understandably suspicious of Novem. Novem doesn’t jump to correct her, but during the conversation she does explain that her design is Identical to Nihil, and that the schematics of their construction should be public record and available to review. And to help clear her name, Novem gives an alibi, she was attending a wedding at the Temple of the Nine last night (which is ENTIRELY true). Of course it was the wedding for the same worker who was apparently “working late” last night (the police didn’t volunteer Bryan’s name, so Novem played dumb and made no assumptions to them), it puts Bryan in a bad position…but…all told…we could be worse off. He’s likely to lose his job and get fined, but he shouldn’t get any more than that.

Roseni doesn’t get much from her mind reading, the officers are suspicious of Novem, but have nothing substantial to go after her with…though they are interested in finding those blueprints to confirm Nihil looks exactly like Novem…which is good, making the police more active and doing work parallel to us should work in our favor. No one else seems to be wondering about what was stolen, not even the bank tellers…the mean manager guy who kicked us out yesterday is oddly enough, wondering about who his fastest runner is…and decides on “Jason”.

Now…to me that sounds an AWFUL lot like a mental exercise to keep from thinking about a particular thing…that Bank Manager’s up to something.

We all meet back out in the courtyard. Phillip and Luther are squabbling over the secret societies book we “borrowed”. Novem…notices something odd…the fountain in the center of the town square where we’re meeting…it’s got goblin statues on it…like…clearly petrified goblins like the one we have…Novem points this out to Luther and……. we aren’t entirely sure what to make of that. Does the city government know about goblins? If so, why didn’t the mayor suspect the goblin court to begin with? Who built this fountain? …that question is going to have to wait until later. We’ve got a shifter to find.

 We travel a few hours out of town to the mines, and sure enough, there’s a number of miners around that match the description Panzen gave us. Phillip calls out one of the tough looking women miners, which ends up being named Pebblemantha, and asks to see her bots.

He gets kicked in the head.

More than once.

Novem stealths and starts scouting out people who match the description we’re looking for as Luther talks to the Foreman and explains the situation. It gets heated very quickly as, well, we aren’t the police, we don’t have a warrant or a badge or anything…but we NEED to find the mayor’s murderer, and the foreman isn’t feeling charitable.

That’s when Luther breaks out his secret weapon…the fact that between last session and this one, we went up to level 2. Which means Luther now has spells he can cast. Luther casts Command on the foreman to make him kneel, and scare him into showing we mean business.

The Foreman rounds up everyone matching the description we’re looking for (luckily almost all are the same ones Novem was thinking), and have them line up.

Novem stays out of sight, throwing dagger at the ready in case anyone tries to make a run for it, and everyone else proceeds to compare boots to our bootprint. Our collective Perception checks are…lacking, but we narrow it down to a dwarf, and the foreman. Hmm…that’s not suspicious. We give the foreman an out though…was there ANYONE else that could be our culprit? Anyone still in the mines or in their tent? Is he protecting anyone? We can tell…and confirm with Roesni’s telepathy…there is someone else in the mines.

When we call him out on that, he goes into his animal form and attacks, the dwarf taking off running. Novem pegs the dwarf in the leg with a knife, stopping him as the rest subdue the Foreman, restraining him for interrogation.

Novem has Luther come over and heal the dwarf’s leg as she retrieves her throwing dagger. Meanwhile, Yukiko holds down the foreman as Phillip considers how to question this guy. That’s when he gets a tap on the shoulder…by a Robot wrapped in long robes. Duo has shown himself, and asks Phillip to leave this Foreman alone. Phillip…doesn’t care about this guy and walks away from him…and gets a shocking grasp for his trouble.

Novem notices this happen…and now, the tables have turned, she has her allies, and she’s not interested in playing games like Nihil is. She rushes in, blades out. Yukiko pulls away the Foreman out of danger, while Luther rushes in and heals up Phillip to get him back on his feet. Again.

I lend a lot to the die rolls. Novem was slowly getting more and more attacks in while Duo focused on her, and couldn’t seem to land a hit. With her allies nearby, Novem’s sneak attack keeps going off, and Duo gets desperate. He lets out a thunder wave, throwing all of us back to give him an opening. Knowing they could dimension door into the vault, I’m expecting Duo to vanish shortly afterwards…but he doesn’t get that far. Roseni triggers her hellish rebuke, and burns the robot wizard from the inside out, finishing him off.

The foreman has a lot to answer for, and since Duo showed up to protect him, we know we’re on the right track. Next time we get some answers, find the Foreman’s son (which Roseni shared with the rest of us), and ultimately figure out how it connects to the Goblin Court.

Talk to yall next time.