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[lawastooshort]

Luckily Taren had approached before Helskaya had got very far with his shamanistic ritual; the gruff northerner could still see.

”Well,” he replied to the kindly young man, ”Sometimes I have a yearning. A yearning to be a bear. It is something that springs from deep within; it cannot be supressed. Normally this is not a problem: last Tuesday, for example, I turned into a bear in my sleep, and woke up trying to bite a seal in half. But sometimes the bear within me seems leashed. Trapped. And I cannot but feel a terrible terrible sadness, and a desperate worry that perhaps I will never again be a bear.

Being a bear is like being a small child – or rather, it is like being your memory of being a small child. Everything is simpler, and everything is imbued with a golden haze. One cannot be a sad bear; one can just be a beary bear. Well, one can be a sad bear, but not the way a human can be a sad human. It’s complicated to explain.

My grandmother was a shaman, of course, and my mother whispered that one day she became a bear and turned away from the portal back, the spirit portal, if you like. She travelled far across the north and eventually, like all bears, became a shooting star, and burned across the desolate northern sky. Eternal.

Some shamans are… soaked in the spirit of another animal, and that is, I must suppose, as good, for them. But the Arkuts, we have always been and become bears. The bear endures pain, cold, suffering: but he remains bear. That is to be bear.”

Helskaya takes another hit or two of his burning solidified magic; he feels his mental faculties begin to improve. Or worsen, depending on one’s point of view.

”I bear bear bear bear bear.”

What he wanted to convey was how, as a shaman of the north, his very essence was bear. The bear for him was the entrance to the spirit world, and the spirit world was the entrance to bear. The skin of the bear was like the womb, and he longed to return to it.

[Errol]

((Ok, my topographical senses are really off. I'm envisioning us all in an enclosed chamber-there is a hole opposite of the stairs we came from, which was a place where..seagulls could fly. And then a dragon and its horde separates us from the entrance. Err..can anyone please help? Sorry Errol D:))

Spoiler: Tower map (click to show/hide)

That's about how it looks where you are.

[Yoink]

Komas gave the precarious-looking hole a quick glance-over, then looked back towards the others.
Shortly he was scowling, and shaking his head with disbelief.
"Talkin' ter a bloody dragon," he muttered to himself, fidgeting with Heinkel as he watched the beast in question, "Is there any fool thing this lot won't do?" Upon reflection, he decided he would rather not know the answer to that.

With a sigh, he resolved to wait and see. This was all too much bother- right now he was wondering just what had possessed him to enter the dungeon in the first place.
'Ye're a damn fool, Komas. No better than them! Maybe Koba scrambled your brain with the same blow what took your eye, eh?'
He growled softly at himself, knuckles tightening around his oar. Stupid internal voices. Stupid adventurers. Stupid dragons. And most of all, stupid waiting. He was quickly becoming very irritable indeed. He scrubbed a hand over his bristly face, grimaced, then began shifting his weight from foot-to-foot impatiently.

>Wait for the inevitable roars and screams when the party manages to offend the dragon.

>Prepare to lead the flight down the hole to the floor below if/when need be.

[lawastooshort]

Helskaya heard the muttering fisherman and glanced disinterestedly over. It was a glance that seemed to say, hey, fellow old type - if you have any strong liquor on you, why not come be shamanistic with me outside?

A glance was all he could manage, though.

[Spinal_Taper]

"Diplomacy doesn't work, huh?"

"Ah-Well."
Apollo sighs and stands up, letting Maka escape.
"I'm sorry. Go on ahead. Hug the dragon or whatever it is you want to do. Have fun"
Apollo backs up from the situation, then goes to sit in the corner and go through his chemistry set to try see if there's some sort of painkiller or healing potion, or really, anything to help get the rock out of his face. It really did bother him. Though magic Rogaine for the eyebrows wouldn't hurt either.

[Caellath]

Elenor watches the antics of his adventuring party with the dispassionate gaze of someone who has already gone through a lot of crap of the heaviest caliber due to the catastrophe-provoking attitudes of a few of them. It says something about the quality of adventurers these days when one of the most level-headed and useful members of your party is a stoner shaman who spends most of his time either being a bear, getting high or a combination of both.

Alas, it could be much worse. At the very least they had managed to stay alive so far. "Let us just try to leave this tower and find our way back to town."

[Yoink]

>Bonus conditional action: If the dragon doesn't wake up in a bad mood and start eating the heck out of everybody, go and try to talk some sense into the party members who went back outside. We need to GTFO of here before things get very very bad.

[Tiruin]

>Bonus conditional action: If the dragon doesn't wake up in a bad mood and start eating the heck out of everybody, go and try to talk some sense into the party members who went back outside. We need to GTFO of here before things get very very bad.

Conditional Counterpoint: Ensure Taren hears. :I

[Remalle]

Be on standby to blow something up if necessary.

[Errol]

Back to where Desmond is...

"This group? I've had worse." Sedna replies with a laugh. "Most of them probably have heard of the concept of discipline. None of them is incompetent at what they do, and we have a pretty good party composition. Kind of dysfunctional, but that's adventurers to you. This mission shouldn't really take so long that the party disintegrates because of that.
As for the report - I'm just doing the pre-selection, so what I wrote about you isn't really interesting. The one that makes and keeps the detailed evaluations is Lady Voile, and good luck ever getting -her- to spill something about that. Furthermore, all details are classified, so don't ask any more questions about this."

As she finishes her reply, the elevator grinds to a screeching halt. Everyone waits for the doors to open. They don't. Sedna sighs and grips a crank, laborously turning it until the door has opened enough to exit, then motioning out the party.

Outside, the base of the grand staircase awaits, and the base camp that has sprung up around it on the nearby clearing - well, it could be best called a small fortified outpost. Some vendors are selling exploration essentials at a significant markup, others purchase the fruits of the labyrinth brought in by enterprising adventurers, and there's a pub just in case you need to get drunk, fed or really have to use the loo. The fortification itself consists of a somewhat hastily erected palisade, crowned by a watchtower manned by two slightly bored hired adventurer guards. Some more guards are patrolling around the palisade, and every so often a scout comes in and reports to the overseeing lieutenant. To the stair side, a modest wooden blockhouse is built, which apparently serves as the emergency keep as well as the residence of the local Bureau branch.

"Alright, we're moving out in a couple of minutes. If you have to make any last-minute preparations, now's the time."

After these words, Sedna hurries off to the nearest toilet. Stouton breaks off in roughly the same direction. Fenix is apparently lucid enough to recognize the smell of alcohol and seems intent on investigating the pub, while Marius appears to be striking up a conversation with one of the guards.

((Let's just say you have 200 cp to spend, should you want to.))

[Dwarmin]

Action: Look for some magic potions I might be able to afford-also buy a sturdy shovel and a pickaxe, and additional oil for my lantern, and some rolls of cheap dry cloth.

[Errol]

Desmond browses the stores. It seems that there's four stores that carry items of interest.

First, there's Will the Blacksmith. He does have some tools left over and is willing to sell them... for a premium. However, he personally assures that his items are of high quality and will never break, and the business he has seems to affirm that.

Hand-forged Shovel - 105 cp
Hand-forged Pickaxe - 120 cp
Preservation Charm - 40 cp

Second, the pawn shop which very much appears to be stocked with equipment of dead adventurers. Naturally, it is in questionable condition.

Unpromising Shovel - 35 cp
Rusty Pickaxe - 40 cp
Torn Clothing - 12 cp
Unidentified Green Potion - 7 cp
Unidentified Rainbow Potion - 16 cp
Unidentified Colorless Potion - 11 cp
Unidentified Bubbling Potion - 10 cp

Third, there's a Lemongrass General Branch. Large selection of goods for somewhat reasonable prices, *and* a cute clerk.

Manufactured Shovel - 60 cp
Manufactured Pickaxe - 75 cp
Oil x1 - 10 cp
Roll of Linen Cloth - 15 cp
Roll of Wool Cloth - 25 cp
Roll of Silk Cloth - 70 cp
Healing Potion - 15 cp
Painkiller Potion - 12 cp
Energizer Potion - 12 cp
Restoration Potion - 24 cp
Beef Bowl - 3 cp
Ten-foot pole - 12 cp

Finally, fourth, a small magic shoppe. Anything but tidy, a slight aura of seediness and a shopkeeper-witch that does look a bit baked. The selection is good, though.

Healing Potion - 13 cp
Greater Healing Potion - 39 cp
Magic Potion - 16 cp
Mystery Potion - 17 cp
Blade Poison - 14 cp
Clarity Potion - 16 cp
Giant Strength Tonic - 30 cp
Elven Swiftness Ointment - 30 cp
Featherfall Potion - 11 cp
Mercury - 8 cp
Smoke Bomb - 10 cp
Sleep Potion - 22 cp
Petrification Potion - 46 cp
Midas Potion - 70 cp

Now, what is Desmond going to buy...?

[Dwarmin]

Desmond decides to go for broke-money does you no good when it's being looted off your corpse by your teammates.

~Hand-forged Pickaxe 120 CP
~Torn clothing 12 CP
~Featherfall Pot 11 CP
~Giant Strength Tonic 30 CP
~2xHealing Potion 26 CP

And tip my last CP to the cute clerk.

Action: Buy! Flirt with the clerk, because life is short, right?

[Errol]

((And now for a short piece of setting I wanted to include in Desmond's intro, but forgot...))

Meanwhile, at the bureau... it was just past noon. A torrential rainstorm poured down outside of Elizabeth's window, drumming on the glass windows. Glass, as a material, was expensive, but it gave you quite the excellent view.

Normally. When the world wasn't grey in grey. As an indoors person, she didn't mind it much though. Lunch was delicious today, which made her content at least. And it was another ritual to her - ever since her parents hadn't been around to chastise her for that - to take her lunch to her office desk, read the papers, letters and reports. This day, her in-tray had been delightfully empty, and so she had her nose buried in her new mail-ordered grimoire while munching on some pasta. After an incident with tomato sauce getting on a ritual description and changing one very important letter to another, she had put food-proofing enchantments on all of her books.

Her quiet and nice lunch was rather rudely interrupted by a messenger bursting in and trailing water all over the new carpets. Didn't he see the "do not disturb" sign at the doorway? Actually, didn't she place a do-not-disturb hex on it as always, so, how-- well, the perfectly dry letter handed to her by a wet hand held one indication. Or, rather, the Royal Seal it was adorned by, and the microscopic runes carved into it that were sort of a master key to her proverbial door-locking spells, and insurance that the letter would end up at its receiver untarnished and unopened. Elizabeth instantly put her book away and beckoned the messenger out. As the door fell shut, she opened the letter, fumbling around with the seal a bit. She started reading it in anxious anticipation.

Two words escaped her lips.

"Oh, crap."

[Dwarmin]

((Boomp!))