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First off I'd like to apologize that I dropped the ball as much as I did. The job I took to make money between education took a nosedive and started adding more and more overtime. I know it was shitty of me to drop the ball like I did but the position continually worked me 10-12 hour shifts for six day weeks and updating the quest felt kind of unimportant in the view of it. Now that i'm less employeed, I should be able to continue quest for the foreseeable few months. Again, I apologise for being shitty about this.

>Previously

http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/3388152/

http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/3427569


bargain for L’Audacieux to remain with you, Bretagne (probably/maybe) won’t get angry over it
>take a seat and begin conversation

You return quietly to your seat, shooting your sister a distrustful glare. If your sister notices she chooses to ignore it. Instead letting out a contented sigh and relaxing her posture, returning a contented and affectionate look towards you.

L’Audacieux takes a step back, nervously shifting her gaze between the other three occupants in the room. The submarine approaches, setting the tray of rusted cans on the edge of the table in front of you.

“She remains here.” you instruct the submarine, intending your tone to leave no room for argument. The girl stops briefly, shooting a nervous look to Bretagne

Your sister laughs, the sound bordering on an amused cackle. “Just as bold as I remember Dear Sister.” she compliments before crossing her arms on the table and adopting a diplomatic tone Come “now, we’re not animals here- we won’t injure a guest.”

“Sister. L’Audacieux has done nothing wrong,” you explain. “She can stay with me.”

“Nothing wrong?!” your sister spits, her venom and gaze directed at the destroyer. “She and the rest of her ilk are the reason you intend to leave. If she and the others were so intent to resist the influence of the English, why are they so quick to whore themselves out and fight alongside those wretches?”

L’Audacieux shrivels slightly under her gaze.

The submarine makes a nervous gurgling breath before lunging slightly forward, causing the destroyer to jump slightly back. “Shall I take her to the others Lady?”

Your sister’s expression twitches slightly before relaxing and offering you a disarming gaze. “Dear Sister, you worry too much for the likes of her. Besides as I said sister- we would never injure a guest.” She pushes the tray towards you. “Now. As I said before. We have much to discuss.”

You refuse to take the cans of food, though your sister seems nonplussed by the action.

“As I said dear sister. We shall take Hood together, but out of siege or by luring her our is your own decision.”

>ask a question
>offer terms
>leave
>accept
>reject
>punch her
>punch the submarine
>>
>>3508255
>ask a question
>What do you know of Hood's movements? Does her force patrol at a predictable interval, or in response to certain events? Can we lure her out or ambush her?

>If we lack intelligence, then I can lead a reconnaissance in force. (a good excuse to get lost at the right time)

And welcome back.
>>
>>3508471
This
>>
>What do you know of Hood's movements? Does her force patrol at a predictable interval, or in response to certain events? Can we lure her out or ambush her?

>If we lack intelligence, then I can lead a reconnaissance in force. (a good excuse to get lost at the right time)

You cast a withering gaze at the submarine and cross your arms, intending to make your willingness to defend the girl known. Causing the abyssal to make a nervous gurgling breath and glance back at your sister, her eyes conveying unease and confusion over Bretagne’s apparent unwillingness to force the issue of the destroyer.

For her part, your sister traces an idle finger along the weathered edge of the table, a faint amused smile on her lips, apparently awaiting a response from you.

You will yourself to calm, sensing the issue of L’Audacieux has at least been delayed and return your attention to your sister. “I presume you’ve been keeping a close eye on Hood. What do you know of her movements or disposition. Does her force patrol at a predictable interval? Can we even provoke them or her out? If we’re to lure her out we need proper bait.”

“Ah!” Bretagne exclaims with probably over exaggerated delight in her tone. “Finally, to business. Truth be told we have been keeping a close eye on Hood, though frustratingly she seems to avoid any effort of provocation at our end.”

You frown and consider the statement. “I sense that there’s a caveat somewhere there.”

Your sister grins proudly, “Right as ever Dear Sister. Hood seems to take particular delight in fighting those returnees who continue to defend the humans. Truth be told, I can appreciate the fact that she too seems to have a particular grudge against her former countrymen.”

“And you wished for me and L’Audacieux to act as bait.” You add flatly, crossing your arms on the table.

A look of genuine hurt flashes across the bright blue of your sister’s eyes. “As I said earlier. Hood has an immense sense of pride, were we to stage a battle between us on the doorstep I have little doubt that she’d personally sally forth to join the frey. At that point it’s a matter of turning all our guns to bare against her.” she makes a dismissive gesture with her hands, “We needn’t worry about making it convincing, we’ll just have you sink a few escorts.”

>accept
>accept (lie)
>decline
>suggest an alternative plan
>ask a further question
>>
>>3509512
>>accept
>>
>>3509512
>>accept
She's clearly not gonna budge on this issue. I just hope we dont get fucking caught.
>>3508255
Also welcome back OP. Glad to see that you didn't die irl.
>>
>>3509512
>accept
>>
>accept

“I get the sense you’ve already laid all the groundwork for this operation of yours sister.” you offer, only slightly teasing. “But-” you add with a twinge of reservation “I will support you in this endeavour, we will sink Hood..”

Bretagne straightens her posture and smiles an unreadable smile, clasping her hands together “Excellent.” she offers, “Together we shall finally find our revenge on those who have been so long unaccounted for their actions.”

You nod, already quietly mulling over the implications of your promise.

Your sister smiles broadly. “I am pleased to see my sister so agreeable to circumstances.”

“Getting revenge for the both of us and bringing Hood down a few pegs. What should I find disagreeable?” You offer, the words
The submarine makes a nervous sucking breath, drawing both of your attention to the girl. You with curiosity and your sister with an annoyed frown. “Be so kind as to show my sister to her quarters.” Bretagne mutters with annoyance.
Your sister’s minion takes a nervous gurgling breath. “Mistress, shall I take the other one to the brig?”

Bretagne casts a frustrated look towards you before glancing back towards the submarine in anger. “No. Of course not.” she announces, clearly attempting to placate you. “The are both our guests. I am certain they will both be on their best behaviors, the old captain’s quarters shall suffice.”

The submarine takes a wet sucking breath. “Yes My Lady” she offers, before turning towards you. “If you’re ready to depart we can head out.”

L’Audacieux shoots you a longing look and you can sense the Destroyer’s eagerness to leave from here.

You nod to your guide, signaling your departure and the submarine takes a deep gurgling breath before treading onwards. Out the door.

“We shall talk again in the morning dear sister.” Bretagne offers as you stand up to follow. “I trust we both have a lot to consider and plan for.” she offers a half wave.

Your destroyer escort nearly bolts to the door, standing and making her way out with you, hugging closely near your flank. Neither the submarine nor your sister seems to make comment over the destroyer’s eagerness to leave.
>>
>>3510138

Passing into the hallway, you scarcely have time to glance to the destroyer before your guide stops, only a few doors over, and gestures you towards an open passage. You follow confidently, reassured that your firepower and relationship with your sister are more than enough to keep you safe in this place.

The room is, as the others, clearly in a state of extreme disrepair. The small room is home to but a pair of small bed, flanking on either side and in a state of disrepair. Their sheets and covers near brown with stains and damage. The paint on the walls is peeled, revealing mold and mildew that has grown amongst the damp sea air.

Sensing her duty done, your guide takes a deep sucking breath and steps back, departing from you without offering a word of parting.

At her passing L’Audacieux lets out a deep sigh of relief. “Thank you Provence. I think you saved me from something really nasty back there.”

>ask the destroyer a question
>suggest you poke about the Abyssal lair
>suggest you rest up for the morning
>suggest a plan
>try to escape
>other
>>
>>3510145
>suggest you poke about the Abyssal lair
>>
>>3510145
>ask the destroyer a question
What is the closest friendly port from Gibraltar? Rota may be too much to hope for, but after the mission, we can pull a Fletcher and claim we need to refuel or repair at a port that is conveniently closer than Bretagne's lair.
>>
>>3510145
>ask the destroyer a question
So....how do you feel about this whole Hood thing? You didnt really get the chance for much input back there.
>>
>ask the destroyer a question
Did you notice Bretagne said, throw her to the others into the brig - are there any french shipgirls missing or are those most likely only italians?
>>
>ask the destroyer a question (several questions)

L’Audacieux takes a seat on the bed, apparently unconcerned with the filthy state, landing with a thump on the sheets, a green dust of dried algae and salt billowing up. The distress on her expression still evident, though the barely concealed panic she displayed during dinner has given way to a look of unease.

You close the door behind the submarine take a seat on the tattered bed across from your escort, doing your best to bring yourself level to the destroyer. “Are you alright?” you ask

The girl lets out another sigh, then shakes her head. “I wasn’t expecting Bretagne to be quite so unwell.” she glances up to you “Thanks for helping me back there by the way. I don’t relish the idea of being in Abyssal captivity.”

“I was the one who dragged you down here L’Audacieux.” you offer a reassuring smirk and cross your arms proudly “Besides, what kind of battleship abandons her escort in the face of the enemy?”

She smiles slightly, apparently reassured by your comment. “Still,” she replies. “I owe you my gratitude.”

You nod, acknowledging the thanks before continuing the conversation. “But my sister’s comment back there did worry me.” you begin, “If there is a brig here, that implies the Abyssals take prisoners. Have we lost anyone recently? If there’s a chance our comrades are stuck here-” you begin, mulling over the thought.

L’Audacieux’s nervous expression returns. “I didn’t even know Abyssals took prisoners. But we have lost girls before, it was just assumed they had been sunk. We can’t leave anyone stuck there” The destroyer comments in a pleading tone, “not in this place.”

You nod. “We need to figure out where we stand and what we can do. We’re pretty heavily outnumbered. Speaking of plans, what’s your opinion on my Sister’s quest to kill Hood? You didn’t get the chance to interject there.”

The destroyer looks discomforted by the question. “As far as plans go, it seems like a good one and I can’t deny that killing Hood would bring a certain satisfaction to the both of us. Besides, if anything it would help our war effort by having the Abyssals fight each other.”

You fold your arms, sensing the destroyer has more to say.
>>
>>3511197
“I can’t help but feel that Bretagne is manipulating us.” your escort adds in a quiet tone, glancing at the doorway. “She’s up to something. Something she hasn’t told us about yet, Abyssals are smart and devious, Provence.”

You, mulling over the destroyer’s comment. “What is the closest friendly port from Gibraltar?” you ask. “We might be able to slink out of the mission be claiming a need to refuel or repair at a port that is conveniently closer than Bretagne's lair.”

“Rota’s been bombarded pretty badly, last I heard, I think the navy pulled out of most of the southern coast.” She mulls over the question. “I think Cadiz is still operating, the Royal Navy has been pretty active in the Atlantic.” she shrugs “With the Royal Navy and Hood out there, it’s possible Bretagne hasn’t able to get scouts out that way, so even if it’s not we could just bluff.”

The conversation dies down as plans begin to form

“But Provence-” your escort begins again. “You saw how violently Bretagne reacted when you suggested leaving to form a squadron. I’m not sure she’s willing to see you leave her side at all.”

“She did seem a tad obsessive over me.” you admit hesitantly. “But what other option do we have?”

L’Audacieux looks uncomfortable, seeming to lack an answer. “There’s the issue of the brig too. If we leave after the operation and anyone is down there-” the destroyer trails off, worry evident in her expression.

>suggest a plan
>poke about the abyssal ship
>suggest getting rest
>other
>ask a question
>>
>>3511199
>>poke about the abyssal ship
Provence can check on the brig. I imagine it has guards but they're less likely to be violent with Bretagne's sister.
>>
Waiting on another vote to continue
>>
>>3511199
>poke about the abyssal ship
Ask Surcouf for a tour. The best way to not get caught is to act like we belong.
>>
>>3513139
>>3511918
>>poke about the abyssal ship

You nod idly, mirroring the concern the destroyer has raised. “Perhaps.” you begin with some finality. “It would be a good idea to do some exploring while we are still here, just to verify if anyone really is stuck down there.”

The destroyer looks uneasily at you. “I’m not sure your sister would welcome us delving too deeply and the ship is well guarded.”

You offer the destroyer a reassuring glance. “And for that reason you should remain here. I’ll risk her wrath with me, but you seem a target for her ire. Besides, I’m sure I can strongarm Surcouf into making it a ‘tour’”

L’Audacieux seems unconvinced but eventually gives an almost imperceptible nod of acquiesce. “Be careful Provence.” She offers quietly, “and for both our sake don’t put too much stock into your status as Bretagne’s favorite. She may be your sister but that doesn’t mean she has your best intentions in mind.”

You find yourself with little rebuttal or answer to the comment and decide to use the opportunity to depart, giving a curt gesture of farewell and step outside the room into the darkened hallways of the Abyssal fortress and begin to retrace your steps.
>>
>>3513529

Your sister and your guide seem absent from the hall, even as you round to the great hollowed out space that serves as Bretagne’s throne. You begin to ponder your options and realize with a frown that you have little bearing or idea on how to find what you’re looking for without the submarine’s help. Considering your best course of action, your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of light footsteps coming from the passageway leading back to your quarters and the dining room. Turning back, you prepare yourself to rebuke L’Audacieux for following you, but are surprised to see the figure isn’t her.

The white haired girl is clearly an Abyssal, though not one you have seen before. Judging by her small size, only slightly smaller than L’Audacieux, she’s some sort of escort. Her exact class however is hard to define between the black metal rigging which is covered in confusing gaping mouth like gunports, dazzling cannons, and strange studded black orbs. The girl glances at you quizzically with her bright violet eyes, unsure of what your purpose is before breaking out in an awestruck grin.

“You are Our Lady’s kin.” she mutters, though her voice comes out as a muffled airy echo, you can hear the adoration in her voice. She clutches the bucket she’s carrying closer to her chest, which you now realize is full of the discarded dinner that your sister unceremoniously backhanded out of Surcouf’s hand.

“Battleship Provence” you mutter, crossing your arms and taking an odd pride in the Abyssal’s awe of you. “I am Bretagne’s sister.”

The girl nods excitedly, before tilting her head in confusion “Our Lady did not give instruction that you would be out.” she mutters uncertainty “How may I help you Lady Provence? Have you lost your way from your quarters?”

You shake your head. “I was actually looking for Surcouf.” you mutter dryly, “but she seems to have left in some hurry.”

“Surcouf-” the girl echos as if the word’s meaning is alien to her.
>ask the girl a question
>ask the girl if she can help you find the submarine
>ask the girl to guide you to the Brig
>ask the girl to show you around
>other
>>
>>3513539
>>ask the girl to guide you to the Brig
>>
>>3513575
Giving it an hour and then going to write up the next bit. Thread has been quiet these past few days.
>>
>>ask the girl to guide you to the Brig

You do your best to swallow the unease the Abyssal natural seems to draw within you “You know.” You offer, putting a up at what you guess the submarine's height would be. “She's a submarine.”

The girl offers an uncomfortable look, seemingly confused and slightly distressed that she can't answer your question.

“Nevermind that. Truth be told I was just looking for someone to show me around.” You cast a sideways glance at the escort. “I don't suppose you would mind showing me the way.”

She looks hesitant at the idea of leading you on. “Our Lady did not command this.” She explains. Her tone is difficult to gauge through the distant and echo-like quality that that accents it, but you detect a faint undertone of unease at your request. “We must act as Our Lady commands. Our Lady is our guide.”

You try to offer a reassuring and casual smile, but suspect your mixed emotions over the situation and proximity to the Abyssal make it less genuine than you hope. “It's quite alright. As you said, she is my sister. I'm not some upstart troublemaker. I didn't catch your name by the way.”

The girl seems to process the statements slowly, glancing thoughtfully at the floor briefly before returning to you with a confused expression on her face. “Name?” She asks hesitantly.

You frown at her question. “You know?” You ask discomforted slightly, “You called me 'Lady Provence. What should I call you?”

The Abyssal bows its head and seems to look almost ashamed. “Lady Provenance needs not trouble herself with that. This one does not need an honorific. I am unworthy.”

You offer a placating hand out to reassure the small ship but mixed thoughts over her comment cause you to pull it back again. Mulling over what the creature just said. “Alright then.” You quietly add. “Do you think you could help Lady Provence find her way around the ship.”

Hesitation again. “Our Lady did not command this,” it offers in quiet echo.

“But Lady Provence did.” You correct in a soft but commanding tone. “If my sister asks simply tell her that much.”

The Abyssal pauses with worry, before nodding slightly. “Yes Lady Provence.” it finally relents. “Where can I guide you?”

You offer a proud smile, intending to reinforce the Abyssal decision to agree to your demands. “I found myself fascinated over the idea that the Abyssals would have any sort of code for war or court.” You explain, wishing you had come up with a better like beforehand as you do. “I'd like the see the brig.”

The word’s effect is instantaneous on your guide. Her glowing violet eyes, widening in the first instance of terror you can recall seeing in an Abyssal and from the rest of her expression you're sure the girl would be white with terror if she had any pigment to lose.
>>
>>3514676
“We must act as Our Lady commands. Our Lady is our guide.” the escort repeats in an almost imperceptible tone. This time the sentence sounds less like an rebuff of your request and more like a mantra of prayer.

>Ask the girl a question
>Demand she take you
>Other
>>
>>3514680
>>Ask the girl a question
Gain her confidence first. Ask her what she does for fun, maybe play a quick game with her, like hopscotch. Grab some midrats from the mess, wander around and just shoot the breeze, and then suggest we go point and laugh at the prisoners.
>>
>>3514676
>>Ask the girl a question
What is in the brig then, little one?
>>
>Gain her confidence first. Ask her what she does for fun.
>Ask her what's in the brig
>(Sorry. There weren't many replies so I'm going to try to do an awkward middle ground here)

The Abyssal's breath comes in ragged panicked gasps. You offer an assuaging hand gesture in an attempt to return her to a semblance of calm, offering a friendly pat over the snow white matted hair of the girl, biting down the bile that seems to rise at being so close to her. “You're not being punished or taken to the brig.” You reassure quietly, “I'd just like for someone to show me around Bretagne's little kingdom while she's busy.”

The escort swallows nervously, eyeing you again with a sense of apprehension. “We are not acting out of turn?” She asks hesitantly, as if expecting your reassurances to be a ruse.

You nod. “Of course not,” you reply in a gentle tone. “How about you show us somewhere fun. What do all of you do for leisure around here?”

She displays an uneasy confusion similar to when you asked the Abyssal her name and fidgets awkwardly with the bucket in her hands, avoiding your gaze

You frown and cross your arms. “Nothing fun to do-” you mutter dryly. “My sister really keeps everyone here on a short leash.”

“Our Lady is our guide,” the girl quickly answers with an eager tone, apparently cured of her unease with mention of your sister's name.

“Yes-” you begin before an idea crosses your mind. “What about food?” You ask, “is there a canteen we can chat?”

The girl ponders the question briefly before offering the bucket, offered with both hands fully outstretched. The insides are still full of the fish carcasses, emaciated and putrid.

“I'm not the least bit hungry,” you quickly lie, offering a hand to refute the bucket.

The girl pulls the bucket back, again puzzled by your reaction.

>>
>>3516289

“Look.” You begin quietly, glancing about the wide open space of your sister's impromptu throne room, eventually spotting a discarded steel beam laying haphazardly on the steel floor. “How about we take a seat there?” You suggest offhand. “You can eat while we chat.”

The Abyssal seems to offer no reaction, but after some lengthy and uncomfortable pause you elect to lead the way, crossing the room and taking a seat yourself. Only after you sit down does the girl follow, crossing the room and sitting before you cross legged on the cold steel floor, looking up at you expectantly. You're about to correct her when your comment dies in your throat with a sigh, she seems contented enough and you're not about to lead her by the nose any further.

You being to think of possible topics to broach with the girl that she may be receptive to, finally settling with “What do you do here?”

She brightens and you detect a sense of small pride behind her glowing eyes. “We keep the post safe.” She answers, “Our Lady relies upon us to drive back the lapdogs and the heretics. We are untested.” She admits with a slight downcast to her pride. “Fresh. But Our Lady has told us that we are most important to keeping her fortress secure.”

“Heretics?” you ask with a frown.

“Those who do not serve the betrayers but do not follow Our Lady's light.”

You ponder the sentence briefly. “So other Abyssals like Hood?”

It doesn't look like she understands the word “Abyssal”, but the girl nods at mention of Hood’s name.

You nod and realize that the conversation has veered far from where you first intended. “Is that what the Brig is for than?” You ask. “Reeducation of Heretics?”

A look crosses her eyes. Not the active terror that the girl displayed when convinced punishment was in store, but certainly horrified apprehension.

“No Lady Provence.” She answers in a quiet tone.

“What is kept there then?” You ask, driving the question onward.

“It is where they illuminate.” She answers in a hushed whisper, avoiding your gaze and gripping the handle of the bucket hard enough to bend it out of shape. “It is where the Lapdogs are introduced to Our Lady's faithful.”

>Ask a question
>Ask her to show you
>Demand that she show you
>Get L’Audacieux to safety
>Confront your sister
>Return to L’Audacieux
>Other
>>
>>3516291
>Ask a question
>Do the Lapdogs eventually join the Faithful? What do you know about these Lapdogs? Do you want me to show you a game we guards can play on prisoners, hon hon hon?

(thinking) May we can bring these prisoners with our forlorn hope
>>
>>3516763
It looks like replies are coming in slow. I'm going to head off for the night, but tomorrow I think I'll try and post a little more rapidly, even if we're not getting much activity. More fun that way imo.
>>
>>3516291
>>Ask her to show you
>>
>Ask a question
>Do the Lapdogs eventually join the Faithful? What do you know about these Lapdogs? Do you want me to show you a game we guards can play on prisoners, hon hon hon?
>Show me

You pause and mull over her statement. “Do they eventually join the faithful?”

The Abyssal nods and seems slightly take aback by your question. “Of course Lady Provence. Our Lady is the truth. It is impossible for them to resist that. One by one all will follow her guidance.”

You nod, pondering how best to convince the Abyssal to guide you. “It sounds like a lovely place.” You remark dryly after some time. “Maybe you ought to take me down there. You seemed to lack for entertainment and I’m sure we can rectify that down there.” You offer your best attempt at a sardonic smile and rise to a stand.

The escort continues to look at you uneasily over the idea, still sitting on the floor with her bucket.

“I'm certain my sister could use the help illuminating the lapdogs and we could use the amusement. Or do you think Lady Provence is unfit for the task?”

A protest forms on the Abyssal's face, but she hesitates before standing unsteadily, still clutching her bucket. “I will guide you Lady Provence,” she finally relents, “but it is not a good place,” she begins to walk towards the exit, guiding you onwards.

You follow, debating asking a question but decide to wait to see the brig for yourself, your journey begins along the familiar path outwards, passing again the two large pale guards that stand outside the ship’s ruined bow, guarding your sister. Your new guide appears to ignore them and they spare you only an unreadable cursory glance as you pass, apparently content to let you leave.

The outside air is surprisingly warmer than the inside of the Abyssal fortress. Though the wind gives a chill as it guides rough waves into the gap between the two sections of the broken ship. Your escort continues onward towards the stern, stepping onto a small bridge linking the two sections, a rusty patchwork of various parts ripped from the sides of the vessel. You glance before you towards the ruined stern, where dozens of passageways and doors like exposed to the wind, exposing the skeleton of the ship.

“Lady Provence?” Your guide asks from the bridge, noting your unease.

You offer a reassuring look, dropping the discomfort from your expression. “It's nothing” you assuage.

The girl doesn't reply, continuing onwards into the passageways, deeper into the ship, every few minutes she descends, taking you even lower towards the bowels of the fortress. The improvised lights of burning oil come less frequently here and the air descends into a biting chill. Eventually, she leads you down an improvised stairway into near darkness, you step off it and are surprised to feel the cold chill of near freezing water greet your foot.

“We're here.” Your guide mutters in a hushed tone, taking you further down the passage.
>>
>>3517563
You glance down the hallway. In the distance, a single door stands bolted shut, lit by a single time of burning fuel. Standing next to it, an Abyssal holds guard. She's roughly the size of the British cruisers you fought earlier, and appears well armed with the undefinable array of Abyssal weapons that you've come to expect from their girls. Her head is faced towards you, clearly aware of your presence though her expression is difficult to read. Her mouth is impassive and her eyes are concealed by a thick jagged helmet of polished black metal.

“You are not to be here.” She remarks coldly as you approach. Your response is only half formed in your throat when you realize she isn't speaking to you.

“Lady Provence wanted to see Our Lady's work.” your guide explains, a hint of unease in her voice. “She said she could help illuminate the faithless.”

The face snaps up, now regarding you impassively. “She is not to be here either. Our Lady has decreed as such.”

“I am Your Lady's kin.” You explain, deliberately choosing your guide’s words. “I wish to enter.”

“Then you will need to consult with Our Lady.” The guard impassively explains. “this room is for her, her choice lieutenants, and the unbelievers who need guidance.”

>Attempt to persuade (write in)
>Fight the guard
>Suggest a compromise
>Go ask Bretagne
>Ask question
>Other
>>
>>3517589
>Attempt to persuade (write in)
"And who is more trusted than family?"
>Suggest a compromise
"Of course, I expect you to accompany me."
>>
>>3518277
Backing this.
We in the deep shit now bois
>>
>>3518750
>Attempt to persuade (write in)
"And who is more trusted than family?"
>Suggest a compromise
"Of course, I expect you to accompany me."

You cross your arms and adopt a serious attitude. “And you assume my sister doesn't trust me?” You ask, letting the accusation hang in my voice. “Who can my sister trust if not her family?”

The question looks to take the sentry off guard. Her posture or expression offers little clue, but she seems to hesitate, looking for a diplomatic solution to your question. “It is not a question of trust Lady Provence. Our Lady had not instructed me to let you in.”

“No. I expect she didn't. I've come on my own. However if my sister expects my assistance I need to understand her affairs and she needs to be willing to let me take initiative to help.”

“I can't let you into the brig unaccounted for Lady Provence.” The sentry explains matter of factly.

You put on act of confusion over the statement. “No of course not,” you explain. “I expect you'll need to show me in.”

The the edge of the guard’s mouth twitches downwards briefly in frustration. “This I can accommodate,” she relents, grabbing the iron bar jamming the door shut. “The minelayer stays outside,” she adds as an addendum before swinging the door open. The look of terror your companion gives off makes her demand a very acceptable compromise.

The door opens. Utter darkness seems to blanket the inside, save for a small shaft of light let in by the open doorway you stand before. A wave of unpleasant scent, decay, bodily fluids, and some pungent chemical smell seems to drive itself towards you. The combination of odors is strong even amongst the background of decay in the Abyssal fortress and you fight hard to avoid wretching over the smell.

As if unperturbed by the smell the guard takes a step inside and you hesitantly follow into the darkness, brushing your hand before you as if attempting to drive off the scent.

Your eyes adjust slowly to the near pitch darkness. The first sight that catches you attention is the corpse. Bloated and yellow, it lies just beyond the edge of the light. Glossy black worms, resembling large leeches wither over the skin, pushing themselves into the wounds and the fold of the tattered clothes as if fleeing from the light or noise that came with your entry. At first you suspect it's one of the shipgirls, but even amongst the decay it becomes apparent that the corpse is a man, dressed in the tattered remains of a blue uniform.
>>
>>3518982
You do your best to remain nonplussed by the sight, glancing about the small lightless room to avoid staring. It becomes apparent that the body is not the only source of foul odor. All over the floor, filthy clumps of fluid and matter stain the deck. The three occupants of the room scarcely seem any less dirty. They sit on their knees, their arms secured to the ceiling by long rusted chains. All three are gagged and blindfolded, wearing uniforms tattered into obscurity. Two of them sequestered in the corner and escorts in size seem to offer no reaction to your entrance, hanging defeated and limp. The third, larger than the other two seems to do her best to push herself away, sounds of terror and muffled cries come out from under the gag.

“Have you seen all you need to see?” the guard asks dryly. “Or did you have further business here?”

>Attempt escape
>Ask a question
>Take a closer look at something (write in)
>Return to your quarters
>Other (write in)
>>
>>3518983
>Take a closer look at something (write in)
Look for dogtags on any of the bodies.
>Ask a question
"Who are these pigs? Can I punish them?" Proceed to kick/stomp them in Morse code -- "Stay Strong", "Help is Coming", &c. whilst theatrically mocking them verbally as a cover
>>
>>3519919
Or if kicking is too violent, try sexual assault. Grabbing T&A in a Morse pattern works too, and provides an easy basis for the fake verbal abuse. It might really distract the guard too.

I blame Fuck Quest for this idea.
>>
>>3518983
>ask who they are?
>>
>ask who they are?
>Look for dogtags on any of the bodies.

You nod towards the girls chained to the ceiling and turn to their jailer, “Who are they?”

“Heathens.” she answers dryly. “Lapdogs. Though if you were asking their identities, I don’t know. Your newfound friend might be able to tell you who those two are.” she answers only half glancing at the pair of unresponsive girls dangling limply. She she tilts her head briefly towards the actively panicking figure. “This one was found some days ago. Our Lady was most generous in sparing her life.”

You pace towards the worried figure, bringing your face near level to her blindfolded eyes. Her face is familiar to you, though the recognition is difficult to place where beneath the tear streaked grit covering it. You place a hand against her cheek. The figure recoils and lets out a choking panicked gurgle. light tap, against her cheek. “Where did my sister find you?” You ask in a sultry and domineering tone, grabbing her face and pushing it towards your own. You begin lightly drumming on the side of her head, hoping your action is imperceptible to the guard, spelling a message of encouragement. “Help comes”.

If the prisoner notices the message however, she does a good job of hiding it, recoiling from your grasp with another choked sob. The sob turns into a gurgling choke and a wet cough, her panicked crying causing black ichor and blood to spray from her mouth over your hand.

“Lady Provence. I must ask that you do not antagonize the prisoner.” The guard reprimands. “Despite appearances this is delicate work.”

You frown and stand, wiping your hand on your pants. “I see. My apologies.” You offer the warden before standing and taking a step back, the girl before you still sobbing in terror.
>>
>>3520923
Your feet kick something soft and you turn around, noticing with some minor revulsion that you’ve backed into the corpse in the middle of the room. You glance down, and reach towards the neck, noticing a small steel chain wrapped around the yellow flesh. You reach towards it and note with some revulsion that it appears to rise up to meet you as the flesh beneath it is disturbed by a leech wriggling beneath the skin. You pull the dogtag up and take a glance at the name on it. The man’s name is unfamiliar, but the writing on it clearly identifies his place in the Italian Navy. You notice the Abyssal staring at you impassively and stand, briefly running through explanations for the action, but deciding against it when no question regarding your action comes from her.

“Have you learned what you need to learn of Our Lady’s affairs?” she asks, betraying no tone of emotion

You hesitate briefly before nodding. “Yes.” you mutter. “I think we are finished here.”

She nods and glances out the door, her gaze guiding you back into the hall. You offer a last sympathetic look towards the jailed girls and step out, followed by the guard who swings the heavy iron door closed behind her, stealing the last of the light from the room with a heavy thud.

Your guide stands in the hallway, an anxious look still on her face. “Do you have somewhere else you need to see Lady Provence?” she asks, clearly eager to be away from here.

>yes (write in)
>no, you need to speak with L’Audacieux
>no, you need to speak with your sister
>no, you have something else to do (write in)
>ask a question



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