On the shrieking ship of Shriekpot...
Kevin quickly moves into Erin's field of vision and provides a demonstrative shrug. Erin stares at him.
"What was yer problem again?"
Just then, Scott walks out of the lower recesses of the ship and presents the captain with the jars o' sludge.
"Excuse me, captain, but would you mind telling me what in gods' names this awful stuff is?"
"NOT A CLUE! Never could FIGURE THAT OUT myself. WATER, I FIGURE. Plus OTHER THINGS."
Meanwhile, Kevin sees the tree-head approach from the distance. Not good.
At an unusually hateful tree in the woods...
Sigmund attempts to crawl away from the tree while urging Morton to go on without him!
"You get wood from it. I can't stand it any more!"
He tries to move, but can't! It's like somebody threw the weight of the world down on him suddenly, he can't get up at all! Morton, meanwhile, examines the tree. You know, he's thinking that this might not be the tree he's looking for after all. Too unpleasant, he thinks.
"N-Now listen here... uh... Sir Tree. I don't know what you did to good Sir Sigmund, but stop that... please?"
Morton takes a few steps toward the tree, which remains silent, and pokes it with the oar. Suddenly, the attention of the tree is diverted from Sigmund and turns to Morton! Morton instantly freezes up as it becomes all-too-clear to him what exactly happened to Sigmund as he falls backwards and curls up into a ball, clutching the oar in his hands. Oh dear. He didn't know trees could feel this way! He gets the feeling it's been slighted somehow. Violated, even.
Sigmund, meanwhile, feels a bit lighter. A little bit. Enough to get up and run, but that would mean leaving Morton in a bit of a bind. After all, he doesn't know what might happen to him. Also, that tree looks really pissed somehow. This is probably not a good thing.
In the kitchen of the Feisty Jelly...
Niklas comes to a decision and a course of action to act upon with the drunkard.
[Culinary Dark Arts roll: 1+1]
He keeps filling the drunkard with all the booze available around here, but that guy must have a steel liver or something. He doesn't pass out! He does sing a bit, though. He's not bad, actually, considering that he has most of this establishment's alcohol coursing in his veins.
In Joyous Hanford's Emporium of Biological Wonders...
Mark quickly excuses himself, writing that he needs some funds.
"Ah, very good. Come back soon!" he says, taking back the Informative Metatablet. Mark then heads back to the ship and goes up to the Artiste, trying to convey his need for moolah.
His interpretive dance, however, isn't really appreciated.
"Yes, I'm sure your dancing makes you and your entirely probable mother very proud, but could you not bother me with it, Mark?"
Outside a hill fort of some kind...
Darren quickly disappears into his dirt-bard golem and proceeds to move inside it as he approaches the fort. Problem is, though, he's completely blind while hiding within it. Not to mention it's a bit difficult for him to perfectly match his own movements to those of the dirtbard - it seems like ectoplasmic bits are constantly poking out of it. Or at least that's what he feels like it looks like.