/wfg/ Writefag General: Emergency thread edition

>One of the artillery pits got converted into what I can only describe as open air chapel.
>There's candles made from earwax lit along the walls.
>Several crates and more intact planks were covered in cyrillic writing and some of the wraiths were kneeling before them.
>But the most eyecatching thing was the large framed painting, fixed against the wrecked cannon and supported by the altar made from guns, lances and bayonets.
>The picture was surrounded by the remenants of banners and standarts, all bearing the emblem of two headed eagle.
>It was additionally decorated with various pendants and medals, candles and even a few human skulls set before the icon.
>The portrait itself shown a mustached guy in uniform with a lot of medals.
>Probably someone important, given how the soldiers have gathered around him.
>They were all kneeling before it with folded hands and silently praying.
>We passed next to them and went into the next trench.
>There we found an officer and few more soldiers.
>We let Borys do the talking with them.
>Just as a precaution, I kept my hand close to my gun.
>I don't know if regular steel jackets work against the souls of the damned, but it made me feel somewhat better.
>After a moment, the officer holstered his nagant and reached out.
>Borys shook his hand, reached into his pocket and produced some gold coin.
>The wraith looked at it, picked it up and after taking a close look crossed himself once more, kissed it and carefully put in his chest pocket.
>he then gestured for a pair of soldiers to come here.
>Borys turned back to us and said "It's all good. They'll guide us to the intersection with the Red trench."
>I don't know what it meant, but the witch just nodded "Good. That's almost at our exit."
>Without further delay, the wraiths lead us through the maze of passages and onto a wide trench that was literally covered with blood and bodies.
>Afterwards, they turned around and disappeared back into the maze of their foxholes.

>We went along the walkway for a while, before the witch stopped us.
>"We're here. I'll get the portal ready. just wait."
>She knelt and started pulling out some crystals from her pouch.
>They hovered around the place while she started chanting something and drawing shapes in the air.
>Borys and I kept watch on the both sides of the trench, in case some more deamons came looking for us.
>After a while I broke the silence
>"Hey, Borys"
>"Yeah?"
>"Just who were these guys?"
>"Whiteguards. The last of the faithfull."
>That still didn't make it any clearer, but I didn't press.
>"And what was that coin you gave him? Some special talisman for the dead or something?"
>"No. Just normal 5 Rubels. The true, golden one. Not the modern mock-ups"
>"He treated it like it was a relic of highest value."
>"I guess it reminded him of the world that's no more. Of home."
>"Huh. Guess that's what kept them going for so long."
>"Yes it have. They have nothing now, but faith."
>"That's why they pray to, whoever was that on the picture?"
>"The Emperor? Yes."
>Before I could ask anything more, the crystals lit up and the sparkling ring opened up before us.
>The Witch stood up and looked back at us.
>Without a word we crossed back into our world leaving the muddy hellhole behind.

Where did polybius go?

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I had hopes that dudes suggestion would spawn this sort of writefaggotry. This is my fetish.

I'm a little worried work finally got him. Maybe it just got to be to much, trying to balance the two.

>emergency thread
Whats that mean

Anyone mind if I steal Doki Doki rifle club and anonpost it?

It's like how Machinists have "Emergency" collets, for uses when either a standard size collet is unsuited for the task at hand or when you need to hold something that isn't round in a collet. Naturally, this thread isn't round...

Ellis's second part.

pastebin.com/f9AL0dgB

My stories are basically non-waffengeist stuff.

AC7? I assume so if it's a PS4. Just finished that a couple weeks ago. Glad to see that Ellis is a man of culture.

I'm really interested to see where this little side story of yours goes. I admit I tend to have a, shall we say, harsh opinion of PTSD and its victims. Perhaps you can convince me otherwise.

Yeah, I implied it was Ace Combat Seven. I plan to use Ellis and Kayla as to dichotomies with Ellis trying to get through his life while still having it. Writing that it's a thing, but no matter what it's a thing you have to move past and forgive yourself for.

Cool. I've really enjoyed this journey with you thus far, so I'm excited to see this too.

I should mention that given how I plan to write it is that the story is open ended. Rather than it taking place in the ULF storyverse, Ellis is going to be dreaming about the alternate universe where the events of Don and Parks's arc take place as a way to nod to them being in two separate places. You'll see characters like Don and Kobel but they'll have normal lives with Don being recently divorced and trying to pay the bills, Ash going to the same auto college as Ellis is, and Kobel basically acting in a supervisory role to Ellis.

Re-requesting books on home defense/fortification/CQB.

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I'm not the author, but if you are going to post someone else's work, you should cite the author/drop their pastebin link.

I don't remember what the author was. And I can't find it in paste, but SOMEONE did Doki Doki marksmanship club a while back. Maybe it was JD.

bump

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Where are you gonna post it?

don't know. Think I'll just write it and user post.

Someone asking about my long-forgotten works? That's new.

Go ahead, i haven't touched it for more than a year. If you want the rest of the plot details I'll drop them for you, plus all the worldbuilding too. Where did you intend to post them?

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speaking of Geists, still waiting for Spook to continue his mercanon + AKgeist Raifu island adventure.

Here's the pastebin. It was one of my first stories so pls excuse shitty writing.

pastebin.com/mrXL0QEU

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Danke, Korporaal. I'll see you you know where and when.

???

Have this picture though. Maybe I'll start writing again.

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youtu.be/9SzhjG6OkvI
1. Where am I, Where was I?
A light seemed to hang, slowly limbering about on the end of a rubber plastic jacketed rope of copper. It case a funnel of white antishadow in the air of the room that gently swayed to and fro as though to lend life to the atmosphere of a painting that seemed too vivid to be real.

As if behind the light, three men stood in friendly repose, smiles upon their faces. Lean faces two of them had, as though they were young and in their prime, men whose lives were just getting to be exciting, who were just getting to see the world for the first time.
The room in which I was sitting was less ornate than anything one might expect a guest to see, however, it seemed to have been made for some utility such as storage, primarily. however it managed to simultaneously hold the sensation of being filled with the cool and fresh night air. It was as if I was simultaneously seated inside a backroom at a bar and also outside the back door, watching three gentlemen talk happily of their victories, the new wave of hope that'd recently saturated the future, and the prospects and happy duties they'd all have to take on. It seemed like a tableau rendered before my eyes in some beautiful fusion of images, as though I was seeing some quiet backroom, wafting with smoke, and a cool, moist alley that'd looked out onto the street where the voices of friends and lovers, strangers and lifelong friends alike commingled, communing with some newfound sense of hope. There was a life to it, and yet, at the same time, a stillness that defied understanding only to abide a comfortable immersion. Of the three conversing, one suddenly moved as though this tableau came to life before my eyes, looking over his shoulder in a nod and saying a few hushed, but Jolly words to the two who had lean faces, one of whom seemed to have what might've been a scar running down his eyesocket and his lips.
The man turned to me with a shadowed smile, as if to approach.

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good read, JD.

>Sayori bringing a .50AE
that was a good start

>secret stash of lewd /ak/ magazines he keeps in a false bottom in his ammunition drawer.
absolutely killed me.

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He took a step, and then another as his face emerged from the shadows. The face I gazed upon seemed so familiar, yet at the same time indistinct. He had friendly blue eyes and dark hair, his five o'clock shadow was grayed, betraying that he was an aged gentleman, while flecks of gray in his short and bushy mustache confirmed my suspicions.

"You've had quite the couple days. But thanks to your sacrifice, we've achieved final victory. Bring him out, Hans." One of the two lean faced men walked past, and came back with an groveling, fat old man in a soviet uniform. "Do you know who he is?" the older man inquired.

"No. Where am I? Where was I?" I answered.
"Must've been some knock you took. Don't worry, son, it'll come back to you." He said, unholstering a Walther P-38 and presenting it to me, heel first. "Wanna do the honors?" he asked.
I shook my head in ignorance of the option being given to me, and so he holstered the firearm again, and looked over to the man, who was pushed against the wall before a red glow emanating from the older man's eyes filled the alley. An ungodly bright laser beam shot from the older mans eyes into the fat soviet, vaporizing him like a rat doused in oil and set alight.

A silver disk shaped object hovered over the alley, casting a light down upon the older gentleman before he walked over to me and placed a hand on my shoulder and helped me to my feet. "Because of you..." he said "... I'll get to retire. But while I COULD thank you for your sacrifices, young man, I only have this to award you, an assignment. given your age, your... PERFECT age, I'm sending you to school. You will be part of the school's armory club and you will make contact with some smuggled away citizens of our little kingdom. They've assumed the names of the region, but they shouldn't have assimilated. I want you to make contact, and tell me if they're still loyal. Come. We both have work to do."
The man walked me into the light, and we rose toward it.

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Bump

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>that filename
>with that pic
lost

They engage in witchcraft with Belkan technology! They're the ones responsible for leading the military down the wrong path!

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Good news, everyone: Hell in the High Alps will be getting updated after several years of me not doing anything. Still, I work faster than GRR Martin. I'll be making a push to get it out sometime Sunday. So stay tuned for fighting innamountains, WW1 style.

youtube.com/watch?v=1k07FOspTYw

>JD comes back, if only to drop the pastebin link of an old story
>an ancient writefag from before my time itt announces he'll be continuing his story

Blessed thread, this is.

any of you boys want an ace combat x big angry kaiju story? been itching to write one.

Yes.

Very pleasant surprise user

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There are things to come...

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After an hour's conversation with the leader I disembarked from the disk shaped craft at a port and boarded a boat known as the USS Arnold Palmer, which ostensibly was named after a historically famous golfer of the United States of America. The ship itself was quite a thing to see, however, the amount that I'd be seeing of it would more likely be less than I'd like, as I'd spend much of my time aboard, outside of meals, studying my four contacts.

Among my personal items, issued to me by the fuhrer himself while I was still aboard the disk shaped craft, were a MK23 with a PEQ-14 and three mags, as well as my battle dirtied helmet, my nods, still dusted over with the sticky and indelible fine silt dirt of an exceedingly far and away battlefield I still as of yet, do not remember. Next to my helmet, fully set up for night time, was my G-28, which I was told by the fuhrer was found next to me with the bolt locked to the rear. I was told that he'd have cleaned it before he endowed it with his personal stamping, a mark treated as a great honor to bare on one's weapon, but he figures that it's earned its silty coat of dust with the character it now possessed. While that all sounded lovely, for the time being, I had the need for some food.

After a good steak and some conversation with some passengers who couldn't believe that at my age I'd been activated, I retired to my cabin for the day to study my four subjects. I might've faced some accusations had I not had photographs of myself and some men I just now started to realize were good friends of mine all through my childhood working on the demolition detail ready to show.

I opened my attache case, the confidentiality of whose contents I'd been ordered to guard with my life if necessary, and pulled out five folders. One contained my dossier, about two thirds of which was marked "Confidential," featuring tasking orders, activation and discharge papers, and some record of me receiving occult blessings.

I didn't realize people still cared about me. Thanks user. I have a new story idea fleshed out. If there's time, I'll put out some posts soon.

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All amerifrens matter.

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It seemed that the department upstairs had taken a liking to me after an apparent hard fight, in which my G-28 had seen plenty of use outside its purpose, close, and hard. I wondered a little what it meant, but in all the honesty that I could muster, I was activated, I fought in a conflict whose repercussions seemed as if the entire world had depressurized and relaxed, but yet, I'd been officially discharged in order to finish my schooling, and unofficially tasked with contacting four people within the far flung school I was to be exiled to finish up in. It seemed strange, but as a matter that appeared to require the utmost discretion, I wasn't about to go tell everyone that I was on some form of business. Why me? Was I perfect? Some sort of secret agent? Brainwashed to amnesic effect? Well here I sit high getting ideas, nothing but a fool'd live like this. If any of that shit was the case they ought to take a rope and hang me. High from the highest tree.

The reason didn't matter. What did was what the orders meant. Whatever make contact and pass judgement meant, I felt that it seemed vague. Maybe I was intended to recommend remedial action if needed, though needed was a vague if not nebulous concept. From my folder, I extracted my activation, deployment and discharge papers, and placed them in a binder for my transfer into the school. After placing the four dossier folders onto the desk, I got up and locked the door before returning to my desk.

Opening the first folder, I saw something that really put the hook in me. He was right when he told me they shouldn't have assimilated. That name, particularly the maiden name, certainly didn't match the face. Her eyes seemed to be captivating even just in the photograph. I was sure to keep her photo on the table when I opened the other dossiers. Another strange detail caught me. Of the four girls, the first was the only one who was pictured straight on. "Why might that be?" I muttered aloud. "Monika..."

>be me
>be LARPing post-apoc
>in flecktarn w/ G3
>all my friends are dead
>stuck innawoods thanks to TPTB

Origin: pastebin.com/9cK0HJkR
Territorial Disputes: pastebin.com/hbphwuPh
Wave of Darkness: pastebin.com/pJXpfhBD
Break-Time: pastebin.com/YPQXREXr
Night's Fury: pastebin.com/ee4zMjXX
Lessons Learned: pastebin.com/mGtdxWn0

Wrong pic. Planning to start again.

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Still trying to write bump

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You have my attention.

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Could it be?
Is witch-eater user writing again?

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...am I allowed to self shill?

Moar

Sure.

I'm super fucking excited!

Pretty please?

Based.

But of course.

You might still catch flak for it, but hey, we can always just blame that on zed.

What Lies in the Ruins
>be me
>LARPing post-apoc in flecktarn w/ G3
>stuck innawoods by TPTB
>all my LARPing friends are dead
>having trouble walking around during daylight hours
>reek of blood and death
>getting bigger, but losing weight, uniform doesn't fit right no more
>antlers causing trouble
>still getting use to them
>still miffed over getting trapped and "fixed"
>headache and fuzziness gone, can't be too mad

>first expedition since head incident
>be stalking em around noon, not long after they enter
>heading north towards the ruins, I'm guessing
>three scouts, counting roughly five busybodies carrying stuff, and a mage
>mage and a scout in front, two scouts in the back
>front scout toting a scattergun and an axe, wicked looking scars, whats left of his hair is grey
>is that axe-guy? when did he get so old?
>still looks pissed
>this could be fun

>nightfall
>expedition camp all set
>busybodies hiding in a big tent
>scouts and mage outside with a box
>can smell everyone's got a mark
>so far so good
>can hear busybodies whispering, scouts quietly chatting, and axe-guy grumbling
>two scouts and mage walk away from their camp into the woods
>counted around 30ish paces when the scouts stop
>drop the box and jog back to their tent
>just the mage and the box
>sits down cross-legged, calls out, "I am here as,a representive for thr Magister. We wish to talk!"
>lean in close from behind and ask, "WHAT?"
>voice became a rumble instead of a growl, nice
>good nerves on the mage, only jumped a little
>too scared to turn his head though
>"M-master Zell and Miss S-sylvia wishes to inquire on y-your well-being, and h-hopes you're doing well."
>"FINE. WHAT DO YOU WANT."
>"W-we hope tha-that there are n-n-."
>interrupt him with an angry, "QUIT STUTTERING."
>mage almost shouts, "He hopes there are no hard feelings! We hope the old accord still holds!"
>not giving up my only ammo supply, "SURE."
>still gonna stalk em

What Lies in the Ruins
>second night, not too far from the ruins
>expedition making good time, probably since something harrassing em
>fun games to play like "How many touches to freak out the busybodies" and "Find the Pissed-Off Squirrels"
>axe-guy won that last one
>also learned mage screams like a girl after waking it up by drooling on it
>buggered off after that

>few hours to dawn
>thinking of more things to try
>also brought the box
>didn't want to lose any time backtracking to hideout
>caressing ammo when a crow lands nearby
>those aren't nocturnal
>crow caws, "Hail Witch-Eater, Lord of Ruinwoods!"
>also sure crows don't talk
>hiss at crow, "MINE. PISS OFF."
>crow puffs up and caws, "I have no desire for your shinies, as tempting as they are. I am here as an emissary for the Coven of Shadows."
>coven of what? sounds familiar
>call out, "WHAT DO YOU WANT?"
>"The Coven desires a meeting. Under what terms would you be willing to meet?"
>coven. coven.
>what agathering of witches is called, raifu reminds me
>WITCHES
>"WHAT DO THOSE DIRTY THINGS WANT?"
>crow angrily puffs up again, "My masters are NOT dirty. We wish to discuss the terms for safe passage!"
>the fuck they want with MY forest
>would it hurt to talk? probably

>everything arranged with the puddy crow
>gonna meet coven rep around midnight
>only makes sense to warn outpost folk
>might as well have fun with it
>snuck into camp near dawn and borrowed axe-guy
>woke up just as I cleared their perimeter
>doesn't scream, just glares and asks, "Gonna kill me?"
>shake head, "WARN YOU. WITCHES COMING. BE ALERT."
>axe-guy starts looking nervous, "What are they after?"
>"DON'T KNOW. BE ALERT."

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>close to midnight
>sitting cross-legged on top of box
>raifu ready, bayonet attached
>can smell them coming
>hunger growing
>nam's smoking behind me, "This is a pretty bad ideas."
>yep
>"Got back-up plan?" he asks
>sort of, outpost will know
>nam finishes his smoke, "Will that be enough?"
>maybe

>they're here
>three witches on brooms, fat one, tall one, and a little one
>small, medium, and large
>talk in unison, "Greetings, Lord of Ruinwoods."
>neat trick, glare at them, "WHAT."
>medium says, "Oh great beast, must we quarrel?"
>small asks, "Why not ally your great self with us?"
>large nods, "It would be most advantageous to all."
>spit on the ground, "NO."
>witches look at each other
>large says, "We could free you from these woods."
>medium adds, "And cure your insatiable hunger."
>small chimes in, "You could become a true naaldlooshii and dominate this place!"
>getting irritated, "NO."
>"Just imagine the possibilities!" small pips
>"Freedom to pursue any pleasure," medium adds
>large nods again, "Whatever you desire, just swear yourself to us."
>rise to my feet, "NO. IS THAT ALL?"

>"Very well," medium huffs, "We desire safe passage to the northern ruins, like what you give to the Salvager's Guild."
>shake raifu at em, "WHAT'S YER OFFER?"
>"What do you desire?" asks large, holding out its arms
>"To devour our hearts?" medium asks while crossing its arms over its chest
>small blushes, hands holding its skirt "To take our flesh?"
>fuck that noise, "GIMMIE THE BIRD."
>all of em look surprised, medium snaps out of it first, "T-the bird?"
>"GIMMIE THE TALKING CROW. ONE SAFE PASSAGE. NEVER RETURN AFTER THAT."

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bump

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>witch eater is offered witch's heart, and a chance to fugg (supposedly) cute witches
>just wants the talking bird instead

As expected. Also, could 100% see raifu doing exactly like your last pic, which I'm sure is why you picked it in the first place. Glad you're back, these are great fun.

My rifle looks good as a meme :)

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So anyone want me to continue doki doki rifle club?

Yes

The dossiers were strange in a way. As I got to reading them I found them to be... strange. Notable traits. Monika Sagisawa appears outwardly confident and graceful among peers, and interested in a broad range of hobbies, being president of the Rifle club, and engaging in a whole list of athletic clubs, clubs focused on practical skills, home making, sewing. Was she attempting to be the perfect bride for some young man? Was she going to be a mountain dweller? Did she just like all of these things? As well her dossier seemed a good deal more complete, due to apparently more time to perform surveillance, seeing as she was a third year student. In any case, it seemed as though guns were what she really liked, having played with just about every gun available to the club.

Kagamihara Natsuki, a first year and new member of the Rifle club, showed an affinity for baking pastries and offering them to other students, and at the club, shows an affinity for submachine guns and lighter caliber rifles such as .308, 6.5, and various other calibers frequently seen in assault rifles, or glorified subguns.

Yuri Hirisawa. A beautiful girl, in a confounding way. The violet eyes and hair, and the pretty face on her were all fairly alluring. She was known to have an affinity for knife collecting, battle rifles and anti material rifles. Her personal pursuits aside from these remained murky. The best the gestapo could figure of them is that house hold financial records which were available through government offices indicated expenditures on books, mostly heavy reads from the fiction, horror and in some cases nonfiction settings.

And last, was Kotobuki Sayori. Noted were symptoms of pervasive low mood, Narcolepsy, frequent tardiness, and she showed an interest in pistols and machine guns.

In all cases but Monika's, their school photos all showed them quartering toward the camera, as if bashfully looking on, resisting an urge to avert their gaze.

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The stuffed owl really rounds it out well.

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I wondered about the unnatural eye colors on Natsuki and Yuri. Sure, there was a gene that made violet eyed people with no body hair, however, it was incredibly rare, the only example of which I was aware, having been Audrey Hepburn, however, that didn't make them noticeably purple, nor did their effect on pigment effect hair. The most natural explanation seemed to be that her hair was dyed and her eyes had contacts. The same probably went for Natsuki.

I had just gotten each dossier back into its folder and placed them flat into the attache case before I heard a knock on my door. "Just a moment!" I called as I smoothly closed the case and got up to slide it under the bed in my cabin before I opened the door. A man in an immaculately kept suit stood outside.
"Sir, it appears you have an admirer." He said, handing me an envelope with a very feminine scent wafting from it and a white rose before saying "I wouldn't keep her waiting, sir." He said with a smile before bowing his head and taking his leave. As I closed my door, I wondered aloud to myself. "An admirer? ME?"

I sat at the desk and set the rose down on it. A tasteful thing, but not as interesting as the letter which bore a red lipstick mark where it'd been sealed with a kiss. As I opened the envelope, the scent grew stronger, and to some degree, woke me up a bit. The letter inside read, "I saw you at Dinner and thought I'd make some time with you. Go to the bar and order a sweet whiskey lemonade. If you haven't seen me in five minutes, go to cabin 132 and walk right in."
putting down the letter, I decided a poor decision was my right to gamble since I was here for a few days anyway. I placed a paperweight on an endtable next to the door, and tied a small strand of string to the knob, Then I tied a look around it and hooked it over the paperweight as I exited the door, closing it gently to keep the makeshift tamper marker in place as I closed it. And off to the bar I went.

This any good?

hmmmm.

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yes

second panel looks like an approaching mass of melanin enriched gentlemen

Is of Schmetterling.

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bump

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bump :3

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Those memes on BRG were great, and your owl is adorable

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What Lies in the Ruins
>who's got two thumbs and a new pet?
>little shit tied to an antler
>wouldn't stop cawing till I threatened to poke it with bayonet
>need someone to jail-break it later
>gotta catch up to outpost group first

>found them close to nightfall
>setting up base camp close to northern ruins
>busybody spots me, goes running
>not being sneaky this time
>can't be with the dangling crow
>set box down and wait
>axe-guy and mage come out
>axe-guy asks "What happened? "
>"WITCHES WANT SOMETHING IN THE RUINS. THREE OF THEM. BE CAFEFUL."
>"Did you try and stop them?"
>"TALKING BIRD FOR ONE SAFE TRIP."
>axe-guy groans, "You let them in for a fucking bird?"
>crow caws, "A talking bird!"
>add in, "ONE TRIP."
>crow tries to preen, still tied up
>"We've sent for reinforcements," mage changes the subject, "What will you do?"
>"TWINK OR STAFF-GIRL COMING?"
>mage looks confused, "Who-"
>axe-guy cuts in, "Hunter Sylvia should be part of the reinforcements. What do you want with her?"
>"HELP. MAGIC HELP."

>axe-guy sent a scout for back-up after first warning
>gonna meet up with em en route
>fucked my options against witches
>deals a deal, plus they're probably tracking the crow
>pretty sure axe-guy can hold out
-------------------------
Witch-Eater disappeared into the forest. Everyone in the expedition gathered up.

"Listen up men," Scout-Master Hache barked, "We're looking at about three witches. Until our reinforcements arrive we need to avoid any engagements with them." He turned to Apprentice Lett, "Any idea what they're after?"

"Something in the ruins," Lett answered, "Or someone with the reinforcements?"

"Why not both?" a woman's voice asked from above. The voice broke out into a cackle. Two more joined in.

What Lies in the Ruins
>heading towards outpost
>find back-up camp around midnight
>making good time all things considered
>counting a large tent, three smaller ones
>one large campfire, several well-positioned unlit ones
>counting about ten sentries, four scouts, only a pair of busybodies
>"What is your plan, m'lord?" crow caws
>"SNEAKING IN," try to whisper unsuccessfully, "DON'T TALK."
>"What's the point in keeping me if you dont wish me to talk?"
>poke crow with raifu, "ZIP IT."
>sentry shouts, "Who's out there?"
>crow tries to puff up, "Cower in fear, mortal! The great Witch-Eater, Lord of the Ruinwoods, approaches!"
>facepalm.gifv
>the fuck is the Ruinwoods anyway?

>staff-girl and a pair of hunters approach
>drop ammo crate and sit on it
>one on the right is leftie, left one only half-dressed
>hasn't mastered getting dressed in a rush, must be new
>staff-girl says "For once I'm glad you're here."
>crow kicks around a bit at seeing her
>"You have an emissary crow," she notes, "They usually serve as a witch's familiar. Why would you have that thing?"
>"TALKING CROW FOR ONE SAFE TRIP. NEED TO JAILBREAK IT."
>wrinkly asks, "Jailbreak? What does-"
>leftie cuts it, "He needs us to bind it. Our beast of a friend, though possessing a massive manapool, has no talents in the magical arts."
>staff-girl eyes crow, crow caws nervously
>"I can do it, but why should I?"
>my turn to be persuasive
>"WITCHES TRAKCKING IT."
>"And we want them to come!" wrinkly says a bit too loud
>"SAFE PASSAGE?"
>"You've already got a crate, you greedy fuck," leftie growls
>must still be mad over buttstocking and potshots
>"TRADE?"
>staff-girl says, "You don't have anything we want."
>pull out back-scratcher/antler untangling stick
>staff-girl sputters, "How did you get my staff?!"
>[cue flashback to her losing it during NotF]
>wave it at her, "TRADE?"

Glad to see you liked it.
I was kind of worried I left the references a bit to vague, and therefore left it a bit too unclear. Because without catching the context, the whole scene can look really bland.

I know that significance of five rubel coin may not be apparent for americans (unlike most of the older people from where I am) but I hoped to leave enough clues for even someone from around the world to get the reference.

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Motivational bump

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This is kinda strange. A good kind of strange.

Glad to see witch-eater continues to be confusing to everyone he meets. I wonder if I'd be upset or happy if these sorts of stories became mainstream.

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The dark red tones of the bar that operated aboard the Arnold Palmer... You know what? I'm gonna take the night off, who wanna play splinter cell?
youtu.be/pQ2dI_B_Ycg

moar pls

ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE. But later. playing Jason Simulato- Splinter cell Chaos Theory. You know... The one with the knife.

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writing is in progress

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youtu.be/S_xFuWmdhLk
bump

What Lies in the Ruins
>staff-girl mad about the staff, still gonna fixing talking crow
>had to borrow bayonet for magic reasons
>don't care why, as long as I get it back
>just wrinkly, leftie, and me, rest of camp won't come close
>bigger than them even sitting down, never noticed till now
>couple of hours of waiting in silence, wrinkly giving stink-eye
>occasional weird noises from staff-girl's tent
>leftie retires, wrinkly stays to glare
>patiently ignoring him
>staff-girl back, presents the bird, "Unbinded and bound once more, as requested."
>crow flys over and caws, "I serve and obey!"
>staff-girl ignores it, "I already interrogated the bird, but I still need to ask you. Did you figure out anything about those witches?"
>should've paid more attention
>raifu only says I told you so a few times
>share all I know, "THREE. ONE LARGE, ONE MEDIUM, ONE SMALL. THEIR SPEECH COORDINATED."
>"That's all you got?" wrinkly snaps, "How will that help?"
>staff-girl cuts him off, "It's better than nothing. Can we count on your help?"
>answer with a nod, should be fine
>trying out new brass retrieving crow gonna hafta wait
>can't let witches have their way in my woods
>"How can that thing help," wrinkly sneers, "It gave the Coven safe passage."
>correct him, "ONE TRIP. AND THEY'RE ALREADY THERE."

>past midnight, left alone outside of camp
>heard brief argument between staff-girl and wrinkly, not much else
>don't really need to wait for them, start heading northeast
>crow flutters along
>"Master, where are we going?"
>"NORTH. TO THE RUINS."
>"What's so special about the ruins?" crow asks
>"WITCHES DIDN'T TELL YOU?"
>"I am a herald and an emissary," crow squawks, "not a confidant. The Sisters Three did not see fit to tell me. What is it?"
>"AN UNDERGROUND BASE."
>never did explore all of it, had too much fun with mole-friend
>RIP in piece moles

--------------------
Never trust mages, Hache told himself for thr umpteenth time. Instead of killing them outright, the witches turned Apprenctice Lett with promises of power to do it for them. The cackling maniac made short work of the scholar and four laborers. Lett made the mistake of focusing on his former colleagues, allowing Hache and Ronn to escape.

"Cowards" the turncoat called out, "Face your inevitable death!"

"Catch us first," Ronn taunted. Lett was still an apprentice, while they were experienced fighters. They just needed to find a way to close the distance. Luckily the expedition had set up near a large entrance leading underground.

Protocol dictated a proper exploring party enter any pre-Fall ruins with the utmost care and caution. You never knew what was hiding inside. With imminemt death at their heels, Scouts Hache and Ronn ignored every instinct to slow down or turn away.

Molebro's death saddest 2k19. But now Witch-Eater's got a crowbro. This should be fun.

I'm just glad axe-guy Hache(t) survived.
seems we'll have fun times ahead.