Having survived yesterday’s ambush in big part owing to Dejah’s timely arrival, some thanks are in order. Coincidentally, a handful of people left messages for me while I slept, amongst whom Dejah herself:
Before leaving, I swing by Diana’s room, to ask her what she thinks of the aforementionned ambush. Unfortunately she has nothing to say on the matter; yet one option is interesting:
Ah, too bad. Looks like we have some more work ahead of us, then.
Outside the brothel, MoonFall looks different with imperial troops all over the streets:
Meanwhile, this guy has been stuck in time since my first day on the job, still blabbing on about cops being in Saint Gorfu to arrest some Narsum trafficker:
But before I go meet Dejah in the Commercial district, I bethink myself of Linus. Remember him, the guy who was instrumental in the manufacturing-cum-harvesting or S-Narsum. At the time, he confessed to also dealing in the selling of rare items, as a side job to make ends meet; and the game alerted me Linus would become available as a merchant in Saint Gorfu, just before the game’s end.
So guess who we find:
He sells a few excellent armors, a whole lot of armor mods, and weapons categorised as ‘relics’, two of which are identical:
Might be a bug? Or the two blades of a dual-wielder? In any case, I don’t have the money, so I won’t be fattening Linus’ wallet.
As I make to board the underrail bound for the Commercial district, I get a warning:
Then:
Oh, so I can still wander the overworld map, despite the invasion? That gives me an idea. I’m fairly certain it wasn’t actually Black Saffron herself who ambushed us yesterday, but someone disguised as her. So let’s take a detour by the Twilight Abode, headquarters to the Progressive half of the Guild.
Argh! Please, game, let me do things! Let me ask questions when sense dictates I should be able to ask questions.
But not all is lost. I explored the overworld map to see what—if anything—had changed, and look upon what I stumbled:
The library! Remember Voss, the rich philosopher assassinated under mysterious circumstances, supposedly by Xai Revel? At one point, the sentient hologram he left of himself told me this:
I’m standing right in front of a library! Surely it has to be the one. Has it always been there, but I somehow missed it every time I was in the environs? I guess it’s possible, or… has it just appeared? Either way, I rush inside.
Oh, yes, yes yes yes; that guy is conspiracy incarnate, just look at him. A trio of questions is available:
– What do you offer? “Oddities, antiques and relicas. Some come from far off lands, others much closer to home. I am quite sure that the Travelers’ Mandate would love dearly to acquire the items I offer, for they are all… quite useful in the right hands.”
– What is this library? “The books here offer knowledge, and maybe secrets as well. But… we’re undergoing some renovation, so I’m afraid you’ll have to wait.”
– Who are you? “Just a humble librarian. Don’t I look the part?”
If you’re a humble librarian, then mine are the sleep-sands of cycles past, because I’m a necromant from Yethlyreom.
This said, he hands me a few lorebooks, free of charge. Their subjects range from the origin of Natural Magicks [sic] to the fall of the second moon, as well briefly glossing over a tale of two undescript gods named or titled Shepherd and Weaver, whose forbidden love was at times facilitated by a mischief of magpies. Also, as he told me, Harland Pike does sell certain items; exactly those proffered to my attention by Linus.
And with that… that’s it. Nothing more. That’s the extent of my allowed interaction with this character.
Thus now, though usually quite the longanimous person, I’m going to be brusque: fuck you, Tyranicon (amicably, of course). 
You’ve created a great game. Were I forced to rate it, I would say gem/10. It’s semi-precious, encased in a weird rock, rough, cleft in places, and brimming with unseemly inclusions. A gem, true and true, of a kind I often like more than expertly faceted jewels.
But that thing here, with the library? Fuck that—and fuck it hard with a jackhammer. Please never do that again. You’ve presented me with a number of crypticisms and mysteries; you’ve made a character tell me in no uncertain terms I would find answers in the Library; you’ve allowed me entrance into said library; but then I’m not provided any answers, and in fact I can’t even ask meaningful questions.
Now, having finished the game, I know what happens in the library mere minutes before the end. I know I’m supposed to eventually be brought there. But allowing me enter the place some good time before the end, only to give me nothing? No. That crosses beyond the frontiers of Teaseland; that marches boldly in Fuck The Player territory.
I’m gonna go ahead and guess it’s almost impossible for Pike to spill the beans at that early a time into Chapter 3, at least without it turning into yet more non-answers. Or at least I don’t see how it could be re-written. So I would earnestly suggest getting rid of the library as a visitable place on the overworld. As it is, it’s really a giant, stories-high middle finger to the player.
Moving on. To Dejah:
Girl, the room is entirely empty, that’s the exact opposite of a mess.
As to the work she had in store for me, it pertains to one Marshal-General Numitor and his… mostly peaceful annexation of MoonFall, for whom and what civil leaders and the imperial brass will be holding a celebration. Given the renowned vaguely scandalous tastes of Imperials, Dejah would appreciate if my brothel could provide the entertainment in a luxurious abode situated in the cloud-capt Spire district.
Of course, security will be equally high as the penthouse, but when I ask, Dejah answers no trouble is expected. Although…
Oh sweet Dejah, my purry neko girl, that can not be good. The Loveless are going to strike, guaranteed.
Then:
Always. Finally changed your mind? Not hetero anymore?
Oh. Ok. Did not see that one coming.
She hasn’t seen him in years, she says. Took off and never looked back, she says; expectations of her, couldn’t deal with it. Still probably can’t, but she wants to try, for some reason. So we all agree that, of course, we’ll bring her to the celebration to see her father, her papa.
I give a false name. When the man tonitruantly announces me as Oralee Cummings, nobody laughs. I don’t get it; it killed in the brothel last wednesday. Diana gives me a sorry look, then whispers: “Though crowd.”
A minute later we are there:
The man is very agreeable, I admit, very polite. And he knows Diana and I hired Kaywin, then looked after her. As a Marshal of the Imperium he has, after all, access to one of the largest intelligence networks in the world. Of course he knows; of course he was the one who asked Dejah to bring us here; of course he’s delighted by the idea of seeing Kaywin again.
Your… blood? Wait, let me grab a dictionnary. Omelette… omicron… ominous! Yes, that’s it, ominous, mentionning blood like that.
Another one of my companions whose veins are a-flow with some glorious haveage? I mean, I know Isutyr is a princess, but is there yet someone else? Would be funny if it was Hatsuo the glutton.
Still, while this question burrows itself in my mind, we let father and daughter reunite, alone in the room. Outside, we talk a bit with Dejah anent the Marshal’s ancestry supposedly going all the ancient way back to the Phœnix King. When suddenly, Zafra feels a tingle:
We barge into the room:
Of course it’s the Loveless! We fight; we kill them. (earlier in the game, Shrike fought with us in the Black Rooms, and I’m surprised Dejah wasn’t part of the combat here)
But in true video game fashion, people who are killed don’t die until they’re done talking.
Gray, Gregarion’s rival, mentionned having been told “not to touch a hair on our head.” What the hell is going on?
With preternatural alacrity she snatches Kaywin—gasps!—and presses an undulated blade against the soft of her throat.
But no, says papa Numitor: “It doesn’t matter whose blood you shed, as long as it flows. Let it be mine instead.”
“The blood of the Phœnix, freely given.” Then he collapses.
The god damn library again!
We console Kaywin as best we can. Then:
…
-8/10; would befriend the developer over the internet, then travel overseas to meet him, and there buy him pizza just so I can shit on it as he’s about to take a slice.
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