Completed Let's Play Tyranicon's "Memoirs Of a Battle Brothel"

[Dhaze]

The Let's Play started near the present end of Tyranicon's thread for his game; but on Zombras's recommendation, following a technical oopsie by Infinitron, and against Nekomimi's desire for the Let's Play to remain in the previous thread, here I am creating a new thread.

So, Memoirs Of a Battle Brothel. Via exclusive channels, I paid Tyranicon many shekels for the special version with excessively pendulous breastage and ultra-vascular dicks. What follows is essentially spoiler-free, it being the very beginning of the game.

Not opting to skip the intro cutscene, meaning about a picosecond into a new game, you face this screen:

Ok. Coming in hot. A couple of clicks later, you're all red and bothered in a full-on, multi-choices, detailed and graphic sex encounter of the turgescent kind. I won't go into the blow-by-blow, but I want to mention and insist upon one thing: it is hard to write smut (no pejorative connotation) without the end result being painful to read. It doesn't even matter what exact tone you employ. You can write crudely and plainly, like Sade did with his 'Justine', or you can write with abundant humour and literary verve, like Apolinaire did with 'Les Onze Mille Verges' (The Eleven Thousand Dicks), or even write something in between, at once heartful and sinful, like in 'Dom B... Portier Des Chartreux'. Any way you choose to write people smacking parts, there is always the finest of lines, verily gossamer-thin, between what works and what makes the reader laugh uncomfortably for how bad and weird it is.

And honestly? So far, Tyranicon is not Guillaume Apollinaire (though evidently he doesn't aim for that), and my being a horny troglodyte might be a factor, but his stuff... yeah, I have to say it works. Moreover, I had a girlfriend who read rather smutty erotic books, and I'm dead certain she would enjoy what's in this game.

In that intro, there's one description—and only one!—I would qualify as bad. It's too 'medical', I want to say. Aside from that one there's another that is borderline funny and made me chuckle, yet simultaneously I can not say it's wrong about the sensation it's describing; and yes, apparently that's happening now: I'm on RPG Codex, talking about anal sex. That's fine. Expected place to do so. Perfectly understandable.

But moving on, since RPG doesn't stand for Recto-Penile Gook. Once the introduction is done with and the tone admirably set, you are treated to a little bit of lore, in company with some very nice artwork: here's a techno-ronin; a mysterious portal surrounded by multitudinous screens; a vague air of Tsutomu Nihei's Blame!; some magic; what in my eyes is a truly gorgeous drawing; a writhing of oily tentacles; and a cautionary tale against jacking yourself without Windows Defender.

Then the game proffer you go about creating your character. My first name, you ask?

And my last name?

Correct and correct. But hold on...

Damn it. Genitalia should doubtelessly be the first thing queried. So I restart the game, make my character have a vagina, and move on to the background selection. I get to choose between Noble Scion, Former Courtesan, Grifter, Street Thug, Cultist, Corp Floater, Mercenary, or a Nobody. I'm not given much information on which to base my decision, but the choices seem fairly self-explanatory; I choose Courtesan, as I suspect it might make for interesting interactions throughout the game.

I'll mostly be kneading breasts, but it's nice to start with some dough. As well I get a bonus to charisma as I had expected, and some affinity with the halves of the Guild Of Courtesans. After this I get to choose for myself a past connection, with the Guild Progressives, or the Guild Traditionalists, the Iron Cartel, the Stormbreakers, the Three Moons, the Travelers' Mandate, the Old Watch, the Board, or no one at all. I choose no one, no bonus nor malus, as I like the idea of a character who does not get attached.

On to the class selection then, where I'm offered choice between Shaper, Soldier, Support, and Vigilante.

A charismatic, lonesome courtesan, who uses a fading source of magic and wherefore suffers a certain disrepute, and moreover loses a little bit of her very self every time she uses that magic (thus leading to her lonesomeness, as she progressively forgets those dear to her?) Yeah, that sounds really cool, so I went with Shaper. Then I choose my appearance, and an unrelated starting bonus to Perception as this time around I'd like to sooner spot those pesky Crawlers—wait, no, this isn't Underrail.

Now the introduction-with-my-own-character starts, and I meet Diana with whom I flirt a bit:

Unf. Unf, unf, unf.

One of the clerks behind the counter is the guy from the intro, and I learn he's not supposed to be serviced by the courtesans. But he got the full check-up anyway, oil and all, and if I understand correctly that's a secret to which Diana's not privy (or maybe she is).

After which I take my first steps, and discover I can tilt the camera upwards!

And downwards!

And... more downwards?

And yet more downwards?

Maybe it'll come in handy at some later point in the game, to look under a skirt?

I check the menu, and see handy, summary explanations of character progression and stats; classes and sub-classes; combat basics (move, class feature, class skill, gear and items); flanking; battlefield terrain (full cover, partial cover, dead bodies and obstacles, lingering area effects); mods (think cybernetic augmentations); and trust.

This bit's meaningfullness I like:

In my book, mutualy exclusive story paths are always a good thing. Not for some replayability reason (to me, replayability is solely dependant on how much I like the game, rather than on variability of any kind), but because it serves well to reinforce the impression that the characters and the world they inhabit are more than lines of text and an assembly of pixels.

Also, the Shaper class and its sub-classes. The tutorial, evidently outdated, makes mention of two sub-classes, when in fact three exist.

The class itself, Shaper, allows me to create a shield around a character; to forcefully repell an enemy via some kinetic manifestation; to inflict fire, lightning, or cold damage and correspondingly burn, stun, or freeze; to set the ground a-blaze or a-buzz; to summon an Ice Fiend; to drain SP (mana) from enemies; or to give someone an extra turn.

The first sub-class Reality Warper is all about buffing myself, weakening enemies' resistances, and generally inflicting high damage.

The second sub-class Memory Weaver leans heavily towards incapacitation. Think blindness, fear, domination, slow and the likes, with the addition of two shadow summons.

The last sub-class, Wudajin Disciple—which my dumb mind insist on calling Mujahideen Disciple—is Magic Kung-fu. With skills called Dragon's Fury, Dragon's Retreat, and the very cool-sounding Thousand Steps, it's easy to envision the concept.

Moving on, herewith incumbent upon me are the responsibilities of Facilitator of a brothel, while Diana—who accompanies me awhile—will be the Dame of said brothel. Basically, we're co-managers. On the way to that brothel, situated in somewhat sordid parts, we promptly get ambushed by three thugs; thankfully I wrap my tongue around those guys and avoid a confrontation (no, I didn't blow some dirty, AIDS-oozing thugs! I simply charmed my way out of it).

But how about some deep insight, straight into dear Tyranicon's mind? Did you know that his favorite game of all time is The Witcher 1? It's true. Because in The Witcher 1, there was about fifteen NPC models in the whole game; and Tyranicon so adores that game he wanted to emulate some of its facets. In the following picture, I'm on the left, while on the right is Consuela, my twin sister and mexican maid:

I make my way to the club-cum-brothel, where a guy's been unceremoniously thrown out by Zafra for mishandling the girls.

I'm not into hentai. Never been. But... well... am I into hentai now?

Inside the club, I am given the proprietor's tour, see an augmented courtesan named Kore work the pole (as in dancing, nothing else), then is dangled afore me the salivating prospect of some intimate time with Diana.

Upstairs, on our way to my and Diana's respective offices, we meet one of the girls who got into a sticky situation:

Anon follows a short conversation with Diana, during which she almost let slip her having previously been a cultist. She says something cryptic, and I get the option to reply in an equally cryptic manner, as if having myself belonged to this cult—but the option is actually greyed.

That, some people will like, others won't. Getting to see what options aren't available to you is often a point of contention amongst players. Personally, I don't mind one way or another; though having the option greyed out makes it obvious Diana was in a cult, while not displaying the option if unavailable could have created some potentially beneficial ambiguity. It's debatable.

Diana then firmly assures me that no scissoring will take place between us—damn those between-coworkers Guild rules!—despite her being such a busty and perky and firm flirty-flirt. Yet thoughtful she is: she’s made provisions for the later coming into my room of none other than Kore, the augmented courtesan I saw dancing on the ground floor of the brothel.

So for now I go to what is my very own room, wherein the tv is on and I opt to flick through the channels. Doing this, I learn the Stormbreakers love to advertise their brawnful security services; that police corruption seems an established notion; that genetically-modified pets like massive Corgis are a thing; that the Gushanese diaspora took place generations ago, and that Lost Gushan is, somehow, veiled behind something called the Four-Mile Barrier, and nobody knows what happened there exactly; that Shapers are most decidedly not trusted by society, and are—or at least are supposed to be—listed in a register kept by the Department Of Social Security, less they be fined or imprisoned; that there’s something wonderful called an Extreme Neoburrito XXL, and that it’s chock-full of protein and stuff good for my body; that the halves of the Courtesan Guild war with one another to deadly consequences; and a number of other flavorful bits.

Basically, what we have here is, I think, someone who took the time to write stuff a lot of players probably won’t ever bother to read; and someone who does that is, again I think, someone who cares a great deal about their project, which heightens my enjoyment of the game in addition to being an effort I sincerely appreciate.

Time for bed now, since tomorrow’s a big day at my new Facilitator job. Bra off, sheets up, lights out… but harken! who be that knocking on my door? Why, it’s Kore.

Now, manifestly I could go straight for the fleshy parts, but I want to talk to her a bit, hear what she has to say. And like the music at that precise moment, what she says about herself and the brothel is… singularly earnest and sweet, unexpectedly so. Thus for a heartbeat blood rushes back up to my heart, I falter, and wonder if I shouldn’t just be only amicable with the girl. Yet I’m a perv, a horny, dirty, ever-throbbing perv; so when she asks, I tell her there’s something—wink wink, elbow nudge—she can do for me. But oh no! the game alerts me an air of what seems disappointment briefly drapes itself over her face as if a pall—an air promptly replaced by the practiced affect of a professional sex worker. No! What have I done? There’s innocence in her still, and now the moment is gone, ruined! I should have just proposed we sleep next to one another (and perhaps subtly brush the perfectness of her breasts while Somnus holds dominion over her).

And in the morning, I see Zafra under a different light:

And Sonic The Hedgehog's hot human cousin, who never entirely left her kogyaru phase:

-----------------


Ok but seriously now. I haven't fought anyone, I've barely played what is essentialy the intro, but I'm genuinely interested to play the rest.

— The music is quite good, it fits the game.
— The game which, in such short a time since the beginning, has already managed to acknowledge and make good use of my background, my class, my stats, and my past affiliations or rather lack thereof.
— The 'retro' environment is perfectly palatable, and what few artworks I've seen are well-drawn. This one in particuliar is exquisite, I love it.
— The game runs well. No crash, no hangup, no crackling sound. Only a weird issue with text in the tutorial menu being displayed 'compressed' at times.
— I can use keyboard and mouse or a controller, and switch on the go without a problem.
— I've seen a few typos, but nothing major. 'Amateur' spelled 'amatuer'; 'necessary' spelled 'neccesary'; a missing letter or a misplaced comma; 'that' being used instead of 'who'; also a couple of conflicting conjugations within a sentence, but really nothing big, I'm a dick about that stuff. The only thing that really distracts me is the past tense used by the green-tinted narrator text to describe some action a character is undertaking right this moment, but even that's more of a pet peeve on my part, and most likely inconsequential.

(Tyranicon, I have no idea how that would work file-wise, but if you ever want help with proofreading I'm not too bad at it.)

 

[Dhaze]

Here is Tyranicon's first reply from the other thread, as it's fun to have that kind of thing:

 

[Dhaze]

I did have some volunteer proofeditors at some point but the project is immense. If you want some idea of what you're getting into:

Believe me, I have a good idea what it's like. Even with multiples re-readings of a mere 20-30 pages of text, it's so easy to miss so much stuff; so with a good-sized book's worth of dialogue, it's all the easier, and I can only commiserate with your pain.

Seriously though, good stuff as always, dude.

Well, hopefully others than myself and Tyranicon will enjoy this. But worst case scenario: Tyranicon and myself will enjoy this.

----------||----------

Ok so continuing with the playthrough, I'll start using spoilers for a number of important story beats.

First real day on the job as Facilitator to my brothel, and I wake up to discover the Constabulary (hereforth known as 'the cops') have placed the area under a mercantile freeze. Meaning no clients coming, thus no exchange of liquidities of any kind. Bribing a cop, I learn they're investigating a local traffic of Narsum, a drug previously used to treat virus-afflicted sufferers of the Crasher Crisis but now become drug of choice to those of precarious financiary means. After some sleuthing about, I garner favor with a sly member of the Old Watch faction, then bring the whole mercantile freeze situation to its dénouement, and this much to everyone's satisfaction for the celerity and bloodlessness of it all.

I should note that once again, the game offered me a few ways to properly use my character's stats, and I saw that yet other means were available though not necessarily to me given said involved stats.

During all this, I meet Kaywin, who is a mechanic—but I suspect is actually a crater in disguise, because girl you are smokin'!

Honestly, as an underboob fan, I must say bravo. I'd clap, but with only one hand available, it's hard.

She seems a remarkably sweet girl, who found herself more or less involutarily mixed into something she misliked. Ere long I find her in the upstairs part of my brothel, applying for a job; but not that kind of job.

I mean... come on... Kaywin, my perky girl... "Working with your hands." The pun basically writes itself!

At this point something a bit strange happens in the succession of events. I tell Kaywin I'm all for hiring her, as we'll need her handywork to fix the vaguely-decrepit brothel up, but advise her to enquire with Zafra anent such details as salary and work hours, since I'm still new here and not exactly au fait with these aspects of our little enterprise. So she goes downstairs, to talk with Zafra. I follow, and... no Kaywin, nowhere? She disappeared. And Zafra—and every other girl as well—still had the same dialogue has before I spoke to Kaywin.
In the end I couldn't find any next step to this little part of the story, so went to sleep to skip to the next day, and just like that discovered that Kaywin had been hired and was at work in our garage, with fresh dialogue that made it seems as if she had been a part of the group for some time already. It felt a bit abrupt, in a "Ok that's done; on to the next part now," kind of way, but that's alright with me.

Now the game alerts me that my party size is limited to five, and that for the moment said party is fixed.

(nb: please completely disregard the 'time played' display as seen in the party comp screenshot; it doesn't accurately represent my time played since I often pause to organise screenshots and take notes, and it will only get more out of sync as the playthrough progresses)

Second day on the job then, and immediately Diana proposes we name our little brothel. Being surrounded by she-wolves, I go for the only logical option:

As well, I contract a couple of upgrades for our brothel-cum-hovel, being as we are in dire need of such services as security and administration, a janitorial facility (for healthier genital felicity), some privacy booths, and things of like ilk.

Additionally, and though I had previously heard the rapturous clamor emanating from her room, only now do I get to meet Thassia "Balls-Drainer" in the flesh:

How does that thin of a fabric collar manage to stay upright? What does she use, is it an abundance of starch? Oh... oh no, it's not starch, is it?

But now on to matters of a more serious nature. As briefly remarked upon earlier, the Guild Of Courtesans is split in halves, these being the Traditionalists and the Progressives, whose belligerence is escalating of late. To prevent said escalation reaching the corpse-strewn heights of all-out war, Nena—the Grand Dame of the Guild Of Courtesans—aims to organise a meeting between the rival leaders; and we girls, a thus-far unaffiliated brothel wherein work people sympathetic to both sides of the conflict, are to play a role in this.

Spoiler

Alas, afore her endeavor could come to any fruition, in a skipping heartbeat Nena is brutaly assassinated. Seemingly, by none other than the Bloody Hawk, a supposed crazed Shaper whose monicker I had previously heard on the news, and whose bloody trail spreads, drip by drip, across MoonFall.

A cursory investigation (Perception, baby!) reveals most gruesome details: Nena's whole body, with preternatural thew, has been wrung like a wet towel; and likewise has the head of a man present with her at the time in the room been twisted so violently on his neck his skin became partially detached. Curiously, it seems a drug was involved in the matter; as to said drug being Narsum or not, I could not ascertain. But wait! there was a security camera in place. Yet damnation has it it is was hacked and deactivated, and my proficiency with computer technology is laughably low, thus can not obtain me any additional clues.

Before leaving the place, I meet and talk a bit with Hatsuo, adjutant to the late Nena:

----------||----------

And during these last events has surfaced in full a problem that is, I guess, practically inevitable. Sorry, this part will be rather long and a bit shop-oriented so to speak, but it's an interesting point to discuss. Still, feel free to skip this part if you're not Tyranicon, as it might prove super boring otherwise.

The game is centered around the Guild Of Courtesans, and as noted previously I consciously chose as background for my character that of an ex-courtesan, expecting certain interesting interactions. So while I the player logically know next-to-nothing about this game's world, I the character on the other hand should already know pretty much everything there is to know about the Guild, about its hierarchical structure, its history, its size, its unique characters, down to its ideological cleft between Traditionalists and Progressives.

In every work of fiction the writer has to choose how to approach that problem.

The most brutal solution is to drop the player straight into the deep end, no matter how troubled the waters, to possibly never even explain a huge number of things, and let the immersion hopefully work its ineffable magic. For a relatively well-known example: Glenn Cook did that with The Black Company.

Another, diametrically opposite solution, is to over-explain, to over-expose—even if in tiny bits. For the anecdote, there used to be a lot of that in vaudeville plays, wherein a character might say to another, "As you know, monsieur Petypon has gone for the day [...]", thereby explaining the context of a scene to the spectators, despite the characters in the play already possessing that specific information.

By going the brutal way you risk alienating readers who, by lack of adequate-for-them introduction, won't ever manage to enter your world, won't never not feel alien to it (that's a valid criticism regularly aimed at The Black Company). By going the opposite way, you risk alienating readers who don't need that much information to submerge themselves comfortably in your waters, and who might even be turned off by but the slightest repetition of information already provided them.

In practice here, facing my ex-courtesan character talking with Diana anent the Guild Of Courtesans, the game has my character say, "Well, it's been a long time since I've left the Guild; couldn't hurt to ask for a refresher." But the explanations I can obtain at that point are a bit redundant with what I've already learned; some titles like 'Grand Dame' are perfectly self-explanatory so I don't need more on them; and I have in my journal a few books that already touched on the subjects at hand.

In a similar vein, at one point Diana explains something to me about how Shapers come to be, which has my character interject: “Yeah, I know. I’m a Shaper too, remember?”

All in all, it's not an inelegant approach to the problem, if at times a bit on the nose, and it works well more often than it doesn't.

----------||----------



Back to our home turf then, and a bit out of the blue I find myself harboring a refugee of sorts, Isutyr:

She is what the game calls a Goada Naren ('tall ones', called thus from ancient times, when Man was still rather small in stature compared to these elf-like, natural Shapers); and for the time being she is on the run from the Travelers' Guild, arguably the most powerful faction.

But since it's already a rather long post, I'll cut it short here. In the next part, we finally get to kill people!

 

[Dhaze]

Eftsoon the momentous event of last time, the Guild Of Courtesans knows a worrisome state of turmoil; and so is now organised a meeting between the Traditionalist and the Progressive halves of the Guild.

A great number of people are here gathered, and we meet fashionable and augmented Jasen, long-time support staff for the Guild:

Mere feet further we meet Dejah Mars:

Evidently, some enmity lingers atween her and Zafra. Consequently, the latter storms out of the room but, well, her presence during the meeting would be preferable. So I follow in her steps, downstairs, and some guy explains to me Zafra has already entered a combat simulation room. Thus...

Yay, combat! It took a long time to finally get some, though admittedly I could have fought earlier but chose to resolve issues in other manners. Within the simultation I find Zafra highwrought and working her issues on some technological manifestations. After which she expresses a desire to fight me, and girl I am ready for you:

A bit of kiting, two well-placed uses of my Shaper abilities, and finally a quick Aimed Shot bring her down without my having to suffer the least damage. As head of security for my brothel, I expected Zafra to be thougher than this. On a side note: why has my character's sprite suddenly changed to that of random dude wearing riot gear?

But no matter. Out the simulation room then upwards we go with Zafra, to the important meeting of the Guild. Diana, Windress, and Kore are waiting for us outside the meeting room—but something is wrong. Where are the guards? Why is it we hear but silence and silence alone?

Spoiler

Trusting in Zafra's instinct, in we barge with birr, and find two masked dudes and a masked dudette, with people from the Guild dead on the floor, snipered through the windows. One of the masked men, quick to the draw, closes in and fires a burst badly aimed at Zafra, who takes minor damage. Concerning myself greatly with the endangered montuous breasts charming person of Zafra, I cast a spell:

Oh baby! One hit, one crit, one kill; what a way to start. Unfortunaly the combat then veers into true XCOM territory. Masked Initiate A shoots me with a downright nasty crit of his own, and down I slump like a wet noodle, apparently not even deserving to have my sprite remain on the screen, only the red of my life:

Then, the girls—understandably shaken to their ample fleshy core by my disappearance—proceed to completely miss not one, not two, nor three nor even four, but indeed their next five attacks! In the end, only Kore was left standing with a whopping 2HP, as the laser of her Support class brought down the masked leader.

With the three miscreants dispatched and their camisado partly foiled, we girls wisely decide that, were anyone to see us right now, we would look pretty much like mass-murderers. Pronto we exit room, only to find more masked men! Here, Windress the highly-mobile and evasive Vigilante, in tandem with Zafra the Soldier, really shined. They can quickly close in by using their Features (non mana-costing skill), and with blades and wide-hitting gunshots at their disposition are satisfyingly devastating when right up in an enemy's face; thus in the end this fight went very well for us.

Unfortunately, the game then crashed, remaining stuck on that screen. But to be fair, the main menu clearly displays a disclaimer according to which alt-tabbing during combat raises the likelihood of a crash; and I did alt-tab a couple of times to take notes for this Let's Play. No matter, as roughly fifteen seconds later I was back in the game, owing the auto-save.

Continuing with the spoilers...

Spoiler

The cacophony of fighting emanates from everywhere and spreads everywhither within the building; the Progressives are massacring the Traditionalists, and vice-versa. And where are those damn cops? They should definitely be investigating a giant gunfight with explosions. Unsure, I ask the girls for advice. Windress proposes we get in the thick of it, chose a side in the conflict right here right now. But Diana proposes we make for the control room, and from there call everyone in the building via speakers installed everywhere; and this I find reasonable. In the control room, we face the following situation:

Diana hails the women, some Traditionalists, asking them to let us use the speaker system. The women, on edge, answer, "Were it only you, Diana, we would lower our weapons. But we don’t know your friends there." Having previously ingratiated myself to the Traditionalists via some dialogue, I manage to convince them of the goodness of my intentions.

An instant later, the situation inside the building dies down thanks to our efforts, and we get into contact with Jasen, who paints quite a picture:

The worst happened, but the absolute worst was narrowly avoided. We learn the cops, well aware of the fighting that happened, opted to stay out of what they perceive as only an internal conflict within the Courtesans' ranks. But methinks there's corruption involved, as well's the nefarious meddling of yet-unknown volitions; Jasen and the girls agree on this, suspecting that people from outside the Guild have much interest in seeing it wrack itself.

Phew! Now the story really managed to get on track, and I gotta buy me a ticket 'cause I'm in for the ride. Consectary to such developments, ere long we'll have a lot of informations to gather, secrets to uncover, alliances to make, and—I hope!—a plethora of pink-red throbbing parts to fondle.

 

[ERYFKRAD]

Pragmatic politicking is way more entertaining than saving the world.

 

[Dhaze]

I'm inclined to agree, but from a couple of coming hints, I see faintly limned in the distance the possibility of a threat would belittle any petty politicking on the human scale. But maybe I'm wrong; we'll see.

Following what tiring events we've been through, my now battle-hardened maux and I repair to our brothel, accompanied by our bros Hatsuo and Jasen who have elected to work with us. Diana has the fine idea of potluck and booze, and all of us unwind, indulging in merry compotation, talking a bit about this, talking a bit about that.

I'd like to note that, though I admittedly know little of them yet, the girls each have their own clearly distinct personality, competently conveyed, and in my opinion at least they are quite far away from any caricatural archetype so often populates video games. Aside from Thassa who so far is one-note, but I've had very little time for interaction with her. So, Tyranicon, heartfelt kudos on that point; the girls are fun, interesting, and I enjoy talking with them, hearing what they have to say.

Tired, to sleep I go, but anon wake up I must for I have a brothel to tend. Immediately I enter Diana's office, to see if she has any new insight on the recent developments; but no, she offers no new dialogue. I go downstairs, and no sooner have I arrived there that who calls, telling me she'd like to talk to me in her office? Diana. Ugh. Come on, game... I was just there.

Some brothel-centric talk later, I go downstairs again, where I share a drink—a nearly-corrosive 'Rocket Cleaner' of nonpareil potency—with Zafra:

Ok, I have to talk about this for a second. When describing an action currently taking place, the writing oftenwhiles alternate between past and present tense. Here, the first sentence should be either "Zafra throws an arm over you and guides you to the bar," or the slightly more distant but nevertheless correct "Zafra threw an arm over you and guided you to the bar." Not this heinous mismatch of throws followed by guided. It's a weird beginner mistake that is peppered everywhere in the game; and honestly I'm surprised to see that, because as far as the rest of the writing is concerned, it's pretty damn good and certainly undeserving of being thusly dragged down.

Now for something else. I want stats, and items, and going where I want to go, all at mine own pace.

First, I have enough XP to level up:

Each level grants me three points can be invested in stats. Seeing that evidently the enemies can hit really hard, I want a bit more HP; being a Shaper, I want more Spirit; and if my experience so far is indicative of a greater trend, people in this game can be hard to hit, so I want more Reaction since it improves my to-hit.

Equally important to spend are the Class Points I receive along each level. I don't yet have access to the sub-classes, so I max—one point each only—the first two tiers of available abilities.

Notice how some abilities require SP, while others don't. Those that do are Skills, while those that don't are Features. Despite this, Features can't be used nilly-willy, as they have a very limited number of uses per combat.

Wandering the streets of Saint Gorfu (district in which the brothel is situated), I then head to the shops—but only to browse since I’ve spent nearly all my credits on much-needed upgrades for the brothel.

First stop, Golgo's place, wherein an ominous, blood-encrusted chair and surgical tools catch my eyes:

His services include changing my or my companions' classes, and augmentations, but unfortunately I don't have the money to browse these. Also, for those who can afford it, he proposes to change one's sex, the option being either 'penis' or 'vagina + tits'. Wait? + tits? Hold on; during character creation I only had the option for 'vagina', so does that mean I have no tits? But those are the best part!

As well in Golgo's shop, we hear a little bit of dry humor:

On to the weapon shop, whose owner explains to me that the reason she doesn't like bulletproof glass is it works both ways. There, I see the following:

– All sorts of guns, from normal ones to flechette-loaded others;
– Melee weapons, from knives and swords to polearms and hammers;
– Shields, to accompany your favorite handgun or stiletto;
– A special category of weapons, including LMGs, grenade launchers, powered greatswords and greatmauls;
– A 'Mastercrafted' category that proffers two extremely expensive items, a revolver and a katana (the latter made of supeliol japanese steelu?);
– A lone, so-called SMART gun, also quite expensive;
– Armors, improving either your melee or balistic resistance;
– Channels, being basically staves for those practiced in gramaries;
– Mods, these to add elemental damage to your weapons, or to extend your range, improve your Reaction, Defense, and so forth;
– And lastly two 'LTL' weapons, whose purported particularities I failed to grasp.

Alas, as noted, I'm a broke whore at the moment, so I don't exactly get to buy anything.

And oh! how times passes when I take notes for a Let's Play; and as time passes in-game also, my whores are ever dutiful, and ding! is the sound I hear when I receive my meed. Quick side note: other than Final Fantasy 8, I don't remember a single game in which my character received a salary. That's actually fun.

Thus does the clicking of my high heels bring me back to the brothel, where I want to buy the last remaining basic facility upgrade, ic est the Blood Pit.

But entering the premises, there began playing a truly horrible music track—the first track in the game I do not like, so it's definitely not the put-down it might seem. Personal taste of course, but this particular one sounded like the worst kind of techno, complete with a guy periodically interjecting "INTERCEPT!” with his gruff electro-distorted voice. Off, off, to the jukebox I speed and change the music; now rises a faintly bucolic track, that wouldn’t be entirely out of place in Stardew Valley, and vaguely evokes Dmitry Shostakovich or Georgy Sviridov.

As I transfer the required money for the Blood Pit's construction I wonder if, possibly, Zafra and Windress—whose murtherous proclivities are evident—will be pleased by that. And half a second later, I get a notification that yes, indeed, my Trust with Zafra and Windress has grown! Huzzah. Love it.

Now I visit newly-built places within the brothel I've not yet seen. Stopping by the janitorial service, I get a good laugh, if a meta one. Remember how, earlier, I joked about Tyranicon's favorite-ever game supposedly being the Witcher 1? Because of the extremely limited number of character models in that game, which is also the case for Memoirs. I joked that in the street, I randomly met my twin sister and mexican maid, Consuela. Well, guess who's a janitor for the brothel now? Consuela!

And as you can see, some people now working for the brothel can train me, improving certain stats. I have a bit of money left, so Consuela trains me to better detect stains, while other people teach me how to dangle my heels to greater effect (Charm), and how to write Python (Technology).

Next up: we explore the entire world!

 

[Dhaze]

So then, what's outside Saint Gorfu? The overworld:

And an honest disclaimer:

Once outside, interacting with the district's entrance brings a box up:

With some quality-of-life implementation. To rest, I don't have to enter the zone then tread back to the brothel then climb the stairs then enter my room; I can just select 'Rest'. Likewise to switch party members. Opting for the 'View' option brings some art up:

Nice. Not nearly as decrepit as what people in Gorfu say; rather it looks like a clean deserted street in big-city Japan. But the reason I exited to the overworld map is because I want to go the Eagle's Nest, for there dwells the Old Watch faction, and I want to talk to them about that crazed assassin the Bloody Hawk. Unfortunately, I do not yet have the 5000 credits required for Kaywin to fix the broken car sitting in our garage; so we're footing it. Fortunately, it's a short distance north, and this is how it looks:

Very cool. So I enter the zone. Wait... no... I'm not provided with the option to enter?

Uh. 'Favors' brings a menu up explaining to me that my reputation with the Old Watch currently stands at 1, and I would need a reputation of 30 to access any Favor. Uh². Intrigued, I take the 'Contracts' option, and face a choice between a Hosting contract or a General Contract. Well, we are Courtesans, aren't we, thus hosting seems a fitting and behoveful endeavor for us. The job pays 268 credits, and 3 Esteem (Reputation, I suppose?). I accept and the game, mindfull of quality-of-life, generously offers to warp me back to Gorfu straight away:

But it only brings me back here:

Still, it turns out to not be a mistake at all, as the hosting contract does not in fact entail me going back to the brothel, contrarily to what I had thought. Instead, it is resolved from the overworld map:

Damn it. No matter whether my Perception or Charisma is checked, they're both at 3, so I'll fail. But wait...

Yes! Dice, dice, baby! So I only need a 1, and unless 1 is considered a critical failure no matter what, I should succeed. I roll 3 and—bless your non-sadistic heart, Tyranicon—1 works just fine.

For this I received 268 credits and 3 Esteem, per the contract—but also +1 Reputation with the Old Watch. So Reputation and Esteem are two different things, though I haven't learned the difference yet.

Still, that doesn't bring me closer to my first goal: meeting the Old Watch anent the Bloody Hawk. But I remember, in Gorfu, a member of the Old Watch named Skal, who previously had helped me lift the mercantile freeze enacted by the cops. Yet afore I could re-enter Gorfu, I face this prompt:

Fuck 'em. I confront them.

You do what boy? You toss a few creds at me and my girls, as if we're some common Bronx trash with names like Lateesha and DeShandrey?

Yeah, you best not forget. You do not fuck with Courtesans.

But come on now, back into Gorfu to see Skal of the Old Watch.

Another contretemps. But who am I to refuse them a shopping spree? I pay, and they have fun, but don't bring back anything useful. And with this, I haven't progressed much.

 

[Tyranicon]

So head's up, the way to continue with the Old Watch questline is actually to go back to the Windress's OW contact near the bodyshop in Saint Gorfu, rather than interacting with their location in the overworld.

That's mostly true of all the quests in the game, they're progressed through the specific faction characters you speak with.

 

[Dhaze]

Back on track, I aim decidedly towards Skal of the Old Watch. In my team for the moment being, I have Windress, who possesses a passing familarity with that faction and whose presence is actually required to progress this questline.

He's an amenable guy. After a namedrop from Windress, Skal ties blindfolds around our eyes and brings us to the closest hideout occupied by the Old Watch.

I have to admit that was pretty funny. In the basement, we meet a high-ranking member of the Old Watch, Shrike:

Whom the game introduces as "[...] small, almost girlish even. Yet the cut of her armor and the way she moved told you everything you needed to know." But we're back to spoilers now.

Spoiler

What clues I perceived on the site of Nena's murder, I presently share with Shrike and this passably impresses her, netting me +3 Reputation with the Old Watch. A short conversation later, with a confirmation on Hatsuo's part, and we decide to investigate a certain mysterious warehouse Nena had recently bought in Dockside. Wich is perfect, since I wanted to go there anyway for some other business.

We enter the warehouse, and... wow. That music is something, to say the least. You guys know what a waterphone is? A weird instrument, used to create many of the sonorities become commonplace in horror movies. Here we have a series of dissonant plink sounds, followed by a long second of quiet—not silence, but quiet—then a deep-felt, quasi-physical vroomb that repeats slowly and crescendo, almost pulsating into a disturbing life. That's how you know something's weird here.

Yes, a cutting-edge, automated security system there is indeed, and we are forced into a fight against a couple of minute, hovering drones.

Note how my own characters can block my line of sight:

But I really dislike that, for some unfathomable reason, my character when in combat changes into this random dude in riot gear. That's simply not my character. And while I could understand the rationale that combat gear is logically preferable when in combat, the fact is other girls get to keep their respective sprites. If Diana the fragile Shaper can fight in a skimpy outfit, so too should I the fragile Shaper be able to. It's a weird decision.

Still, girl power proves sufficient against puny airborne robotics, and only now do I realise characters do not receive XP if they're not in the fight. So I'll have to keep that in mind, should it potentially prove detrimental.

Begad! how it deepens, the mystery. My character remarked upon those yellow things vaguely looking like vats fit to hold someone, to which Hatsuo more or less concurred. Natheless our equivocal approximations won't suffice, and we'll have to wait until Shrike and the Old Watch learn more about it all.

Once outside the warehouse, we find ourselves footing it in Dockside. Remember how, earlier we had briefly encountered a character named Dejah Mars? This girl, whose sprite is the blue-white-haired one. Well, in Dockside, my keen eye promptly spots the exact same sprite and towards her I dash, only to discover it's another character entirely, only sharing the same sprite:

Small, not truly annoying yet still irritating issue, but perfectly understandable, and not even were I the biggest most scathing piece of shit in the world would I hold it against a solo dev to not create a unique sprite for every single character, more so in what I suspect is quite a big game.

So I talk to the girl; but dear oh dear, a mini-mystery adds itself to our growing collection! She speaks queerly enough, and the sounds parting the softness of her lips do not match the movements thusly made. There's suspicion she might be using a universal translator. And trying to help her, I could not, but she mentionned being from another place. And what was that about portals... Am I a fish now? 'Cause I'm hooked.

Seeing how the matter of that girl is a dead end for now, I enter the building right next to her, the Blood Pit of the Iron Cartel, wherein I aim to talk with their leader Iron Gregarion, whom I had previously met for a hot second and has invited me. The idea being, I think, that to solve the infighting currently ripping the Guild Of Courtesans apart, we might need the help of either the Iron Cartel or the Stormbreakers, to back the Traditionalists or the Progressives of the Guild.

In we go, and talking to the establishment's patrons I get the opportunity to slide my hand in a dude's pants, though not as a Courtesan usually does:

Success renders mine own pockets heavier with two items:

Curiously enough, those two aren't exactly identical. One can apparently only be used in combination with a melee weapon, while the other can be with a ranged weapon. Because any character can—and by default does—equip two weapons, one melee, one ranged. But a shield must imperatively occupy one of those weapon slots. Meaning no soldier with a sword, a gun, and a shield. If I want her to have some additional protection, and +5 evasion sounds nice at the moment, I'll have to choose between Zafra going melee or ranged.

Still in the Blood Pit, I go and talk with Iron Gregarion:

With that third answer I go for a laugh, and get out of him a chuckle (+1 Reputation!) An exchange later:

Well Greg, Diana isn't on screen right now, nor are Zafra or Kaywin, so I have both hands free! How about I scratch your back, and maybe later you'll scratch mine?

In short, he explains having a nephew, Tommasi of name, who causes him no end of grief. But Tommasi proves a hard man to track. Quick to the take, I quest after information anent Tommasi's whereabouts, and close by the Blood Pit find some sorry whores who worked for him, and whom he—the nithing!—practically abandonned, absconding from his pimp duties.

I try to convince the whores to give me what information I require:

Got damn I'm good. But don't worry, I didn't let these famished, armgaunt walking bags of AIDS to their fate after using them to my ends; I provided them with contact information to the Guild Of Courtesans, where they might be able to find a better job, or at the very least a hot meal.

Back to Iron Gregarion, and the man is quite pleased. Also, I would say ruthless:

So that's done, and I scored a heap of good-girl points with Greg.

But we're not finished with the Dockside Area. Remember Isutyr? The G-string-wearing, pointy ears-sporting girl hiding from the Travelers' Guild? Well, she's presently in my team since she is supposed to meet someone on the docks. A ferry arrives, which we board, but do not exchange words with the crew. Once disembarked, we meet this obvious sufferer of upper back problems:

That right there is some classic JRPG design! Wouldn't be out of place in a Suikoden. Her name is Miranda, Curatess Of The Three Moons, and I feel radiating from her a force that, though contained, is yet nearly suffocating and so vastly outsums my own paltry power as a Shaper. Talking directly to Isutyr, she says:

I give a resigned response, as I'm not about to mess with that woman, and back with the ferry I go, feeling used in a unsatisfactory manner.

Hey, ERYFKRAD, to hell with mere politicking; soon we'll be saving the World!

 

[Dhaze]

So head's up, the way to continue with the Old Watch questline is actually to go back to the Windress's OW contact near the bodyshop in Saint Gorfu, rather than interacting with their location in the overworld.

That's mostly true of all the quests in the game, they're progressed through the specific faction characters you speak with.

Don't worry man, I got it right away, as it's very clearly indicated by the game. But I had just woken up when I restarted playing/writing, and for a second had forgotten, but decided to leave it as is.

 

[Tyranicon]

Ah regarding the player character's combat sprite, it's the bodysuit you picked up at the very start of the game and equipped.

The actual reason for its inclusion is a technical one: due to the custom code I've shoved into the engine, it's a nightmare to change the player's combat appearance (which I will be changing for the sequel, but a gigantic pain in the ass).

Also the white-haired girl in front of Gregarion's. You've mentioned some Twitcher references before, but this is actually one :D. She's a backer-supplied character, so that means she's a one-off that unfortunately does not have further content.

 

[Dhaze]

Ah regarding the player character's combat sprite, it's the bodysuit you picked up at the very start of the game and equipped.

The actual reason for its inclusion is a technical one: due to the custom code I've shoved into the engine, it's a nightmare to change the player's combat appearance (which I will be changing for the sequel, but a gigantic pain in the ass).

Ah of course that's the bodysuit! I should have remembered it. But I had an inkling the combat appearance was a purely technical concern, and yes, little things can often be the biggest of pains.

Also the white-haired girl in front of Gregarion's. You've mentioned some Twitcher references before, but this is actually one :D. She's a backer-supplied character, so that means she's a one-off that unfortunately does not have further content.

The white hair and the portals... Ciri?! Oh god what a coincidence, that is so funny. (what's next? A guy name Dandy Lion coming to the brothel?)

I wish things like backer-supplied characters had never become a thing to begin with. I fully understand the ways in which they prove beneficial, but it's almost impossible to integrate them seamlessly into the game, and at best they end up as some manner of meta joke for what I'll call the game's inner circle.

Still, I understand, and certainly can't begrudge anyone for it.

 

[Dhaze]

Waking up, what's this I feel, stirring my insides and swelling my heart with unmistakable blackness? Why, it's a want for blood! I'm curious to see if some random fighting might happen on the overworld map, and would like to tinker with combat at my own liking.

So I gather the girls, and off we go traipsing parts of MoonFall. When suddenly, a way north of Saint Gorfu:

As in the old Pokémon games, a trainer aggressively makes straight for me on his bike.

Sure enough a second later we're readying ourselves to fight in... a house?

I'm unsure as to how encountering a guy on a bike, out in the open, ultimately translates to fighting in a house; most likely, the tactical map is picked out of a random pool, which is fine.

I place my characters. Then the leader of my opponents, one quick-drawing Thug Gunner, immediately opens with Rapid Fire:

Three shots. Two hits. Minimal damage. I'll live to see him not.

Next is my own character, Armande, and I see by the little numbers below each characters that a Thug will follow my turn:

So, let's see if we can freeze him:

Lo! how readily comes success, when with heart I beckon. And indeed a frozen dude is a dude who skips his turn, as Zafra my Head Of Security is next to act. I move her next to an isolated thug, and mightily is how she strikes:

When his turn comes, the caitiff strikes back, and for solid damage also:

Comes Diana's turn, and seeing how she'll be followed by the rightmost, pink-haired thug, let's try and replicate the earlier icy success:

Yes! Ahah, things are going splendidly so far.

Kaywin wants to join in on the fun, and goes for the first kill of this fight:

That's my girl! To think that days ago, she was a mere mechanic, and now she's wasting thugs with lasers.

Isutyr the Goada Naren (kinda like that name, it feels very Stargate-y) is next, and let's try this Force Burst attack:

Pretty damn cool. Next, the Thug Gunner again tries to use Rapid Fire, again to moderate effect:

Isutyr's previous use of Force Burst was nice, but I've got a couple of levels on her, and a higher Spirit stat, so I decide to show her how we human girls do it:

And down a second thug goes, his inmeats pummeled by kinetic forces.

Not one to be left out of a fight for overlong a time, Zafra is now unfortunately a little bit too far for any melee opportunity:

Using her class' Feature, she can gain quite a bit of extra movement, but alas it doesn't work out in this exact configuration. So I simply opt to bring her closer to the remaining thugs, and she makes good use of her shotgun:

At last the menacing and impressively healthy Thug Gunner stands alone in the now corpse-strewn room, and Diana goes for a freeze:

It's a critical, but the damage is low and no actual freeze takes effect. Kaywin, who I guess might not-so-secretly be into BDSM, goes for something different:

After which Isutyr displays her firesome nature:

And since he is Grappled, the Thug Gunner is forced to skip his turn. Yet still he stands, with a whopping 41HP remaining. I use the most damaging attack available to me:

And bow, bow low, to my empery over the ether:

For our effort, we are recompensed with the following:

A buttload of XP, a purseload of credits, and even Electric Ammo.

Now, honestly, it was a fun combat. Moreover, I see a lot of promise in aspects such as options for movement and positioning, the importance of line-of-sight, the distinction between Features and Skills, the differents possibilities brought about by said Features and Skills, etc. I think it's gonna be good, and very fun.

 

[ERYFKRAD]

Goada Naren (kinda like that name, it feels very Stargate-y)

Oh no the Goa'uld are here.

 

[Dhaze]

I now give it a page and a half before this thread turns into a discussion about P90 vs. Staff Weapon.

 

[ERYFKRAD]

I now give it a page and a half before this thread turns into a discussion about P90 vs. Staff Weapon.

Both suck. Axe is best. Then maul then greatsword then pugilism. There. Saved you a page and half.

 

[Tyranicon]

I now give it a page and a half before this thread turns into a discussion about P90 vs. Staff Weapon.

I should mention that the p90 originated in Belgium :D

 

[Dhaze]

I now give it a page and a half before this thread turns into a discussion about P90 vs. Staff Weapon.

Both suck. Axe is best. Then maul then greatsword then pugilism. There. Saved you a page and half.

You know, seeing as there is a sort of Kung-Fu skill tree for Shapers in Memoirs Of a Battle Brothel, I'll invest a little bit in it. And also make Zafra go mainly melee, since greatmauls and greatswords are available.

I now give it a page and a half before this thread turns into a discussion about P90 vs. Staff Weapon.

I should mention that the p90 originated in Belgium :D

Tell me something I don't know. I actually don't live far away from the original Fabrique Nationale (or FN, as in FN P90).

 

[ERYFKRAD]

Tell me something I don't know

Watermelons are vegetables.

 

[Dhaze]

Tell me something I don't know

Watermelons are vegetables.

Unfortunately I knew that one already. I'm a big fan of David Mitchell, and the whole 'this is a fruit, this is a berry, this is a vegetable; and also there's no such thing as a fish' is a pet peeve of his that occasionally surfaces in his rants.

Here's one for you: the word 'caterpillar' should be spelled 'caterpiller'. Samuel Johnson made a mistake when writing his Dictionary Of The English Language, and the wrong spelling passed into posterity.

But back to the Let's Play.

Still on the overworld map, I walk some more, looking left and right. I encounter a pack of wild dogs:

Let's just say there are now some very dead wild dogs somewhere in MoonFall... I don't feel too good about it, but that's that.

A way further, I spot this:

They are affiliated with The Board, and heavily armed. The game gives me the option to try and rob them; but it doesn't fit my style (at least for now), and I don't think it's a good idea to start messing with a whole convoy of what I imagine are well-trained and -payed guards. Talking to them, they make it clear it would be better were we to leave the area promptly.

Further to the east, I stumble into a place called Praxon Hall:

It's bloom setting, you ask? Ultra++.

I learn it is here dwell the Guild Of Courtesans' Traditionalists. And indeed the couple of patrols in the area are composed of Courtesans. Curiously enough, as did the Old Watch, Praxon Hall offers me a Hosting Contract—which I sign—for a potential reward of 397 Credits and 4 Esteem.

Back in Saint Gorfu, everything is in order to accomodate the VIP and his buddies.

Well... I used to be a courtesan. And it would be good for the business. Moreover, I don't necessarily have to bang dudes; conceivably I could content them by making out with my girls, which would be pleasurable enough. So I join them.

"To WIN at an ORGY!"

Folks, we now have the confirmation not everyone's a winner in an orgy. It's a competition, complete with lots of sweating and shoving and grunting. In order to WIN at an ORGY, the game has me aim for a target of 4 minimum, meaning that with my meager 1 in Athletics I need to roll a 3. Lady Luck, nowhat smiling upon me, wills it I roll a 2.

I fell asleep on the guy? But I used to be a courtesan. And I was so good; Diana even remarked how my past prowess as a courtesan enfamed me. Did I really let myself go so badly? I thought of myself as thick, but maybe I just got fat.

And the end result? Contract: failed. Reputation with the Traditionalists: -1.

Saddened by this last eventuation, I enter Saint Gorfu and decide to take the metro, to see other places. One such place is called Cellerdown. Upon entering, Diana says the following:

To the right appears to be the momentarily closed entrance to a restaurant or club of sorts.

This guy seems keen on the staff:

While the other guy, like Artyom about to die from asphyxiation, has no filter:

Hopefully we'll have a chance to come back when it's open. Then to the left of this area, we meet this girl:

(quick side note for you, Tyranicon: I think you want to spell it 'La Petite Amie' if you want it to mean 'girlfriend', otherwise 'Petit Ami' is masculine, means 'boyfriend', and should be preceded by 'Le')

Two things.

Firstly: yes, tokens! In interactions with some of my girls, I had seen the option to gift them one, but had no idea how to obtain any. Now, having at least one source of said tokens, if possibly finite, my slut machines will for me become slot machines (#feminism).

Secondly: it's a nice touch, these tokens being described as undescribable and giving a sense of familiarity and comfort. I always laugh a bit when a game goes the token way of relationships.

– Here's a token, Stacy.
– What is it?
– I don't know. But because of it, now you like me.

It systematically feels extremely meta, and some games too clearly use that as a cop-out for not thinking more than a second about the whole thing. But this here, acknowledging the weirdness of the concept and the item itself, it's cute, and works well for me.

Last in this zone is that guy:

Well fine, fuck you too then, and not in the fun way. Perhaps something will be unlocked here, at a later time?

Continuing with the sight-seeing, I move on to a place called The Spire.

Immediately, I bethink myself of the Sky Garden in Illusion of Gaïa.

Remember how it's possible to raise or lower the camera? Well here, it wrecks my sense of space something fierce.

An amenable police officer explains what is The Spire:

Furthermore, when I query her anent the apparent absence of any safety railing, she explains that there is in fact an almost-invisible barrier of glass acting as railing. But it wasn't always there, and many people used to come to The Spire in order to commit suicide, creating a certain turmoil down below, as dead bodies going splat tend to do.

The cool thing about The Spire is that, despite there being nothing for us to do here at the moment, we still get to witness a master Air Bender during his levitation training:

 

[Dhaze]

I had earlier received an invitation from Dejah Mars, of the Stormbreakers faction, to come and talk to her in the Commercial district. I make my way there, enter the well-guarded Stormbreakers building, and:

Wow, is that a sort of tachikoma? Oh please tell me I get to see that thing in action at one point. Even if that means it's fighting me, I'll bloody the entire Stormbreakers compound to make that happen if need be.

Meeting Dejah, let's take a short trip to Spoilerland, as she mentions an important plot point from earlier:

Spoiler

The rest is spoiler-free (or at least as spoiler-free as a Let's Play can be without being one giant spoiler enclosure):

Fine. I guess I can do that, as ingratiating myself to the Stormbreakers might prove useful in the near future.

A quick trek to Dockside, and there I am:

– "I'm looking for the Harbormaster," I say.
– "Yeah, that's me. What can I do for ya?"
– "Captain Dejah Mars of the Stormbreakers sent me. Something about you holding some cargo of hers?"
– "Ahh yup, them Stormbreakers boys are late in paying their various freight fees. Gotta get that sorted out before we can unload their gear."
– "How much are the fees?"
– "All told? Maybe around the neighborhood of 8000 credits."

8000 credits?

No way can I forward that big a sum. At that point, the game offers me a few options to trick or charm or brute force my way with the Harbormaster; alas my stats don't quite cut it. So I look around, and—Perception check!—find this:

Most excellent. It was fairly easy to enter the warehouse and retreive the Stormbreakers' cargo, which had their logo all over it. All in all, the smoothest caper you had the pleasure of participating in. In the end, Dejah was pleased, and that's good for me.

But back to the Commercial district now, as there I had other matters needed my attention, related to Isutyr.

Outside we go, talk a second about nothing, and agree the city is more or less a shithole. At which point Director "Milk Moustache" Mitty goes on a little exposition soliloquy.

– "You probably were taught at some point that MoonFall was created by the landing of the First Cataclysm, when the moon Secondus fell to Earth. It was indeed that event that gave this island its name. What you probably didn't know was that the fragment of Secondus created a massive gouge in the Earth that exists to this day. For simplicity's sake, we call it the Abyss.
"Furthermore, the entrance to the Abyss is none other than directly below the building I work in. The Traveler's Mandate has spent decades exploring and mapping the Abyss below this island. This is a secret that very few know. We have bribed, cajoled, and killed to keep this secret. So I want you to understand that is no accident why I'm explaining it to you so casually.
"Miranda has seen you in one of her prophecies. And while I may not trust her, I have little doubt that her visions are very real."
– I ask the following: "Does this make me some kind of chosen one?"
– "Oh no, you're a side character in a different story at best. Miranda has seen you in the Blue Chamber Where The Door Lies. Causality demands that in the infinite possibilites spirling [sic] out past this moment, like a ripple in a great, unending ocean, you will find yourself in the Blue Chamber.
"So treat this as a formal invitation. The secrets of the Mandate are open to you, but you must escort Isutyr to the door."
– "What if I refuse?"
– "You won't."​

I mean, I can't exactly say he's wrong. It was a purely rethorical question; I won't refuse, and sooner or later I will bring Isutyr to that door to see what's what.

But that conversation took some time, so I stretch my legs a little by walking around and... nani?

Holy cow, what an udderly beautiful woman! I look around, to see if maybe I can find her again, but no such luck. Instead, I find myself facing a pet shop:

Where I eventually paid 500 credits for a regular-sized cat named Pearl. More pussy for the brothel, is my logic.

 

[Dhaze]

Before delving further into a meatier quest, I make a detour by the brothel, to re-invest my salary into some further upgrades for the Strip Joint and Privacy Booths; which, by the way, I am yet to visit.

What's Thassa up to, at this hour of the day? I engage her in conversation, but can't actually get a word in:

Uhm... well... uhm... you see, Thassa, I... I... not that I wouldn't enjoy losing myself atween what looks would overflow from a generous E cup, but... uhm... I'm a bit public-shy, so no, thank you very much.

Now my thoughts, possessed it seems of a volition much their own, slither decidedly towards nearby Zafra, and coil themselves about her firmness. Where, I wonder, do I stand with her at the moment?

Trust level: 10. Thrust level: 0. But I'll get her. And with the gloves on. I think about gifting her the token I earlier purchased from La Petite Amie, but force myself to keep said token for the time being, as I'm curious to see where the game will let me go, relationship-wise, without any undescribable bauble being involved.

Still, all that pink thinking has me in a mood. Since I've paid—with my own salary, mind you—for the construction of Privacy Booths, I decide to pay them a visit.

Fine with me; time to discharge some tension. I enter the first booth, serviced I'm told by a woman.

Wut?

That, is hands down the most lugubrious place I've seen in a while. The featureless puke-green walls; the lone, cold, cushionless, metallic-looking chair; the lighting or lack thereof. I feel like I'm about to get raped by a clown made of rust. There's no way the brothel's clients like this; as soon as I can I'm gonna have to spring for brighter lights of warmer hue, at least a few cushions, and a bit of velvet (though the drycleaner's bill will surely rise).

But the trypophile part of my self impels me investigate that hole...

Oh hey! Of course I remember you, Cyla: the first time I saw you, thick strands of semen were dangling from your chin, cheeks, and nose; and you refused my offering of a handkerchief, prefering to lick yourself clean in cat-like fashion. You and an overly-glazed donut would have looked apiece.

But being a woman of some distinct modesty, to whom privacy is of the greatest import, I won't describe in details what ensued. Suffice to say it involved a harness, and a part of my body being devoured as if the aldermost flavorful of fruits.

 

[Dhaze]

Thanks to Cyla, I came; and now, I go. To meet Iron Gregarion, whose familial problems still nibble annoyingly at his leather-booted heels.

Iron Gregarion explains to me the Progressives are holed in an unused underrail station called Cellerdown. Hey! I visited that place erewhile.

Indeed, as it turns out, this...

...is actually not closed at all. The rolling sheet door looks down and locked, but does not in fact prevent entry. Inside, I find Nael, and directly ask her where Tomassi might be. Discovering I somehow know of the boy's secured presence amongst the Progressives, she's briefly taken aback. I decide to keep my link to the Iron Cartel a secret.

True, I'm technically lying to a member of my own Guild; but I've no qualm doing so, as I don't particularly like the Progressives. From what—admittedly little—I know, they seem noyous to the Guild, more keen on reform for the sake of reform rather than inclined towards actually needful change. Lest some coming momentous revelation changes my perception of things, if I absolutely have to make a choice I'll most likely stand alongside the Guild's Traditionalists, whose perceived immobilism seems to me supported by storied events during which the Guild suffered greatly from attempts to change its ways.

Now, does Nael buy that I wish to see Tomassi for reasons of my own, or does she suspect foul play?

Success! Curious to see if the ten minutes I'm allowed are counted, I glue my eyes to the clock. I enter the room at 10:18, and... when 10:29 comes, I'm not kicked out. Your words means nothing, Nael, nothing at all.

With Tomassi, I'm straightforward:

And I choose to ignore that Nael, whom I've deceived a moment ago about the real reason for my coming here, is standing a mere five feet away while I divulge the real reason for my coming here.

Anon I leave the room. Tomassi will live, I decided. I received from him what encrypted information he had stolen off Iron Gregarion's hands but not yet sold; I will be able to either sell said information, assuredly to great financial profit, or doubtlessly leverage it somehow with this or that influential MoonFall character. As pseudo proof of Tomassi's demise, I took his ring. And the boy has promised to vanish like—as he said with the soul of a trouvère—"a fart in the wind."

Back in front of Iron Gregarion, I lie, boldly:

"For now," he says. I get the unmistakable impression Greg is the kind of ruthless, ever self-serving escroc who might want to tear me limbmeal, were I ever to cut his ambitions short, or cross him in any significantly detrimental way.

 

[Dhaze]

– So Doc, are my results in?
– They are. And they're not good.
– Oh no. What is it?
– You have an Iron Gregarion deficiency.

That's right baby, we've got ourselves more interaction with the totally-not-gay crime lord. You guys know why he has to wear an eyepatch, right? Yup. Took a dick in the eye.

Okay, so first of all you don't call me a whoremonger, or I'm gonna call you Iron Gaygarion. But oooh, money you say offscreen! Iwis, milord, off we go.

Girls, ten-HUT! I want you perky, and moist where moist needs be felt. Diana, you take the lead.

See, Kaywin? You're new to the business, but Diana's a practiced pro of many years, she knows how to get resul...

I see. How unfortunate. Between me falling asleep on a guy during an orgy, and Diana who can't even get a raise from a random guard, we're not exactly killing it right now.

But fundamentally, the excess of information makes it more funny than threatening. Of course he's going to ventilate us "with bullets." How else would he do it? With a fan?

Cartel enforcers? As in Iron Cartel? Girls, onward, we seize the moment; here comes the charge of the tight brigade! This is what we face:

And this is the foray:

Luckily only the first four bullets connected—though already inflicting a whopping 27HP worth of damage—for had the rest of the attack not been a succession of misses, Zafra would have been well and truly ventilated.

I cast Shield on Zafra, then freeze the second Thug Gunner:

Seeing how she'll venture forth in front of the rest and probably play receptacle to a few more bullets, Zafra uses Disciplined Toughness on herself:

Then Fighting Spirit:

Then Run followed by simply moving, to bring her closer to the thugs:

And finally Charge at the robot:

But miserably, she misses:

The drone retaliates on his turn, after which Diana promptly re-applies Shield on Zafra:

And casts Memory Blast, to good effect:

Kaywin, discovering within herself manners of carnal turmoil she had thus far never suspected could exist, gently caresses Zafra, and it feels so good the latter is healed by a tiny amount; then the former, grown ireful with sapphic fury, brings a thug to within 1HP of death and at once manages to inflict Burn on him, sealing his fate:

I, on the other hand, suffer the conflagration caused by Incendiary Ammo:

Fastforward to the end, when Zafra gets the last laugh afore we can glory in the spoils:

The eventuation is partially spoilerful.

Spoiler

The room guarded by the thugs was a tiny one for storage, and I discover they were in fact Stormbreakers engaged in clandestine activity of undetermined nature. Ere long I am joined by Iron Gregarion who, trusting in my womanly instinct for self-preservation, knew it to be a good idea to use me as a distraction while he assaulted the Stormbreakers from the west.

Though greatly lacking in detail of any kind, enough so I can't determine if it is or is not further manipulation on his part, he purports the Stormbreakers are "hankering to do something big, something bad for everyone in MoonFall."

And he proposes an alliance. He wants to rise to the top, he says. Wants me to climb with him, he says.

Also, he wants to climb me.

Flattering, but... nah. I'll pass.

In the end, when asking me for an alliance, he insisted I answer immediately. Considering the possibilities, I accepted. He's a bastard, and I don't like him one bit; but at least I know where he stands—in his mind: atop everything and everyone else—and thus know not to trust him but to serve himself and himself alone. That, to me, has a certain value.

 

[Dhaze]

For the moment being, I tire of Iron Gregarion's company, however charming it is. I repair to my brothel, intent on investing my recent earnings in the construction of a massage parlor. But, no sooner have I entered the brothel—thick odoraments of ass and lube wafting up my nostrils—that I spot a curious figure:

Could it really, truly, verily be?

This game . "Oh I wonder... where in my memories are engraved these mammaries?" It's fantastic. I love it.

Immediately, Kaywin slides in besides me; and, red in the cheek and I suspect other parts of her body, blurts out the following:

Quick notekin: a long time ago, when a greater number of people still liked words, 'cum' was used in such sentence construction as we see here, to indicate something or someone being this but also that. Example: "... and here is my dining room-cum-office." Obviously it's not a problem to use the now common 'slash', but in the context of a game titled Battle Brothel, and moreover when talking about a woman with stupendous breasts presently being in a brothel, writing "... the model-cum-actress-cum-singer" would have been perfect.

Moving on, as Amy Seagrave speaks:

Yes, Kaywin, please grab me by the waist.

And do slap me, but not on the shoulder.

Given it will please Kaywin immensely, and as our eyes are a-twinkle with the prospect of a fat—almost obese—payday, we promptly convince Diana to help facilitate Amy's coming photoshoot in our fine establishment.

Holy macaroni, 5000 credits.

Windress is passably annoyed at the über-wealthy socialite come slumming it in our corner of Saint Gorfu; Kore deems Amy agreeable enough; Thassa and Hatsuo understandably wish to suffocate atween the dairy queen's udders, a perspective to which even Jasen is not indifferent; and Zafra, ever the attentive professional, is focused on security.

As for Kaywin:

I'll have her, I swear. I'll be king of her hill. But if this game doesn't let me have a threesome with Zafra and Kaywin, I'll have to drink myself out of depression.

Amy herself is readying for the photoshoot, yet seems curiously concerned with her security; I reassure her, explaining that with Zafra at the helm, all's well. Thus begins the photoshoot—and though I only get a glimpse of it, still it manages to be an eyeful:

The pose: ridiculous. The proportions: grotesque. My manhood: turgid.

At some point, Amy needs a break. I suggest she uses the cleaner upstairs bathroom. A moment later:

And Zafra is nowhere in sight... Tingling with presentiment, I dash upstair, post-haste; and there find Zafra questioning a man.

A bald, red-bearded dude? Not in a lifetime would I hire such a monstrosity. Looking past me he makes a brazen run for it and, with reflexes would shame a jungle cat, foils my Athletics check.

Through the window he goes and crash! lands outside in a crystalline fracas of shattered glass.

Zafra and I explain the situation. And Amy to reveal she has for some time now known that a man follows her near-every move. For now she has a photoshoot to wrap up; but she proposes we visit her at our later convenience, perhaps to help her with this stalker problem.

Ultimately, Kaywin is left giddy with glee:

Oh Kaywin... a-flutter goes my heart.