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[miauw62]

((Damn my lack of weapon knowledge. Editted.))

[Tomcost]

((Yeah, I didn't know what it was either. I originally thought it was a halberd with a hook))

[Harry Baldman]

In the den of the shrieking ship of Shriekpot...

Niklas takes a moment to express his pain.

"Ooooooowwwwww. That hurt considerably!"

"Are you alright, dear?"

Well, he supposes he is, actually. Just terribly inconvenienced at the moment. So he mans up, stands up and reiterates his request, still as deaf and mute as moments ago. Erin nods carefully and steps closer to him again, carefully considering her next move. She looks at the holes in Niklas' armrests, then seems to realize something.

[Erin magic roll: 5+2]

She outstretches her hands, making Niklas shake a bit as the holes seem to close up a bit, the plush insides of his armchair changing in their composition and shape, becoming something rather complex in a few moments. Niklas suddenly becomes aware of the sounds all around him, and it's a bit less dramatic than regaining sight, but still quite shocking.

"Can ya hear me now?" Erin asks Niklas, and Niklas has to admit that he can. He does find the volume of her voice a tad uncomfortable.

Sigmund, meanwhile, stops randomly gawking and speaks to Morton, who currently appears rather unfortunately ignored by everyone.

"I'm afraid that due to these recent events I forgot to answer your question. I will entertain the shopkeeper with a story, but hint that he may be in danger at the end, so that I can buy some time for them to get rid of the guard at the bookshop."

"Alright, I see, then, good Sir Sigmund, so I figure that you will stagger the two events until you are of sufficient distance away from the store then, dreadfully sorry for the confusion on my end. I wish you the best of luck with this plan, good Sir Sigmund, if you require me you shall know where to find me, I think I'll stay on the ship for a bit."

Morton, successfully having avoided inadvertently expressing any hurt feelings, turns to Niklas.

"I must say, I'm confused as to how Chef Niklas managed to do this, use the other chairs for such a form that is. A side effect of the transformation, perhaps?"

"Well, hopefully he'll tell us, eh? Speaking of which," Erin answers, then moves on with the next step of transformation. She once again stands and looks at Niklas carefully, plotting out her next move. At last, she tries something.

[Erin magic roll: 5+1]

Niklas once more feels his being change, but this time the transformation centers on his seat - the space between his main seating cushion and the harder one below it. He feels a cavity form between them, a precise, very elaborate formation of air pathways, plus a strange opening on his underside forms. Testing his new limits, Niklas senses that he can suck air in through it, making it go through his vocal pathways, which more resemble a finely-tuned musical instrument than anything else, to produce rather angelic tones with his new voice, which escapes from underneath his main cushion. Pretty strange feeling, once again.

"Alright, now that y've got your voice back, what've ya got to say, big fella?" Erin asks Niklas. "Where'd ya learn magic, anyway?"

While all of this happens, Scott decides to go with some practice. He looks for a board, but finds nothing fitting that description. Damn these non-wooden constructions!

Kevin, realizing that the danger he is in is perhaps not as great as one might suppose, lowers his guisarme, which he had confused for a sword only moments ago. How embarrassing. Still, perhaps he shouldn't stand close to Niklas. Could be dangerous.

Sigmund, gazing upon his colleagues, realizes he has little to share with them presently, so he heads back to the deck, where he notices the Artiste sitting on a barrel next to Art. And he's drinking the Special from a rather filthy bowl. My, how the mighty have fallen. And Tailor Craig's there as well, though he's conversing with the Captain currently.

"... and so, there I was, with a whole buncha documents in hand, and then the boss aspect was all 'maybe you need to get a folder for those', and I was all 'yeah', and then our eyes met, and there was this chemistry going on between us, you know? I mean, I was bored, she was bored, we had so much in common, you know? And then it was all... whoa..."

The Artiste doesn't really get to the point of this story just yet, as he momentarily loses balance on the barrel mid-lean, swaying a little.

"... I think I'm alright now. Yeah. Totally alright."

"So, what happened?" Art, also clearly experiencing more than a slight buzz, yet also far more composed in his manner, asks.

"Uhm... where was I?"

"You said there was chemistry and-"

Sigmund, however, interrupts the enchanting conversation.

"Master, why are you drinking from such a filthy bowl? Take this, it's not much, but it's definitely better that that bowl," he says, showing the mug to the Artiste. The Artiste stares at him with a glazed look.

"Oh, don't be silly. How am I supposed to drink from an empty mug? Come back when it's full, will you?"

That's sound thinking of a sort, Sigmund guesses.

"So, yeah, after you saw there was chemistry, what'd you do?"

"Oh, right. So, there's me, and then there's the aspect - and she's looking totally interested, so I get all smooth and whatnot, and then I... wait, no. She leans in and asks... something, I wasn't listening at the time, and it wasn't important, so I asked if she was having a good day, and she said no. So I asked if I could help with that, and she went all 'okay', so I helped her file some documents that day. As in, literally file 'em. Pretty neat way to spend the evening, all in all."

Sigmund considers his next move. Should he act the part of the waiter, or should he try and hold onto an illusion of dignity?


On the outskirts of the City of the Dead...

Darren, guessing that there's some kind of reason these people don't know what he's talking about. So he rephrases his needs.

"Maybe not catacombs. Just rather deep down, there's an artifact I'm supposed to be getting."

"Huh. It's been a long time since I've seen any treasure hunters aside from the girl."

"No, no, he's on some kind of divine mission - weren't you listening?"

"But what's this artifact you're talking about? I mean, the engineer quarter has got plenty of junk, but artifacts? Not so sure about those."

Darren supposes he could make a run for it if he wants to. Well, a float for it. But that would be pretty impolite, and these people, while rather strange, don't seem immediately harmful. Then again, weren't the most dangerous ghosts the ones that seem harmless?

[Tomcost]

Sigmund will roll up his sleeves and fill the mug wih the special from the barrel, then say:

-It is not empty anymore, Master. And I can assure you that it would be more comfortable to drink frm this mug.

[If he accepts:]

Sigmund gives the mug to the Artiste and says:

-Let me also dispose of that dirty bowl.

Sigmund takes the bowl and empties it in the barrel, then goes to the shore and washes his hands and the bowl, then gets to the kitchen and deposits it there.

EDIT:

also mentally curse having to start from the lower levels of servitude again

[Innsmothe]

]Scott will use the mast for practice, waiting for darkness to consume them all.

[Tomcost]

((Harry, would you mind adding the harpoons to my inventory? It's just because I want to see how are them as a weapon))

[Spinal_Taper]

Back up a wee spot.
"Crown of Flowers."

[Xantalos]

Niklas pipes air through his newly formed vocal cords, producing a sound not unlike calming flute music. He does this for a few seconds, testing it out, before replying.

Yes, I can hear you, though everything is very loud. I learned magic with nothing but force of will and the help of a Viking shaman I knew.
Also, my wife and child came to converse with me, which did wonders for me not going more insane than I habitatually am.
Thank you, Torkel. Thank you, Helsvar.

[miauw62]

"Guess I'm not the only guy with a weird voice anymore.

[Tomcost]

((I will eventually ask Niklas if he wants to come murder stuff with us. Having many dice against a single foe is always good. He doesn't seem to have anything better to do right now))

[Xanmyral]

"Wonderful, Chef Niklas can hear, speak, and see now! Also proper movement, a wonderful bonus!" Morton stated cheerfully. "You say that you met your wife and child, along with learning magic while in your senseless state? How strange, but fortunate. I must profess, I didn't know you had family Chef Niklas, but then again I mostly stayed out of your way." The desk comments, before remembering something truly horrible that he has forgotten in all of this time. "By any chance, would someone here have a cloth I could use for a moment?"

[Harry Baldman]

On the deck of the shrieking ship of Shriekpot...

Sigmund, mentally cursing his loss of dignity as he takes the mug and fills it up with the foul brew - he is actually rather shocked when he finds that the two guys have already drunk quite a lot - aboout one sixth of the barrel, if he isn't mistaken. He then walks back to the Artiste and shows him the full mug.

"It is not empty anymore, Master. And I can assure you that it would be more comfortable to drink from this mug."

The Artiste looks at the mug for a moment, then quickly chugs down the contents of his bowl, blinking a few times afterwards before handing the bowl to Sigmund and taking the mug wordlessly.

"Let me also dispose of that dirty bowl," Sigmund says, taking the bowl and going off-ship to wash both his hands and the bowl in some nice, clean dock water. Well, except for the nice and clean part. The dock water smells pretty nasty, actually, and it's salty as hell, too. Perhaps not the best thing to wash your hands in, by all accounts, but it's not like Sigmund has any reason to care about manual hygiene much. He walks back on deck, then over to the kitchen, where he deposits the bowl.

Scott, meanwhile, walks out on deck to do some target practice. He takes aim at the mast, then fires.

[Practice roll: 3]

He is rather disappointed to find that the black material the mast is made of doesn't work very well as a practice target, if only because the bolts you fire at it have a tendency to either shatter or ricochet off the thing and fly into the sea. Luckily, Scott wises up quickly enough to only lose two bolts in the process of realizing that perhaps there are better things around to shoot.


On the outskirts of the City of the Dead...

Darren floats back a bit, because a bombshell like this needs some space. Otherwise somebody might get blasted into pieces.

"Crown of Flowers."

"That sounds pretty silly. A crown of flowers? Isn't that a wreath? And how is that even an artifact?"

"Actually, that does sound a little familiar. I think I heard one of the deep dwellers mention something like that once. A flowery crown, at any rate."

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't know. I don't hang around with the deep people."

"Neither do I!"

"You certainly look like you do."

"Stop, alright?"


In the den of the shrieking ship of Shriekpot...

Niklas tries his vocal apparatus out for a moment. Yep, these are certainly golden pipes, to be sure.

"Yes, I can hear you, though everything is very loud. I learned magic with nothing but force of will and the help of a Viking shaman I knew," he says in a quiet, subdued fashion, more out of instinct and a desire to keep his hearing intact than anything else.

"Also, my wife and child came to converse with me, which did wonders for me not going more insane than I habitually am. Thank you, Torkel. Thank you, Helsvar."

"I am glad to help, my love."

"So, dad, are these your friends?"

Kevin, meanwhile, unaware of Niklas' internal dialogue, notes a pleasant fact.

"Guess I'm not the only guy with a weird voice anymore."

Erin is a bit more confused than he is, though.

"Wait, how did ya communicate with anyone while y'were a chair?"

Everybody seems to be willing to vocalize really loudly about Niklas' latest misadventures, to be honest. It's a tad painful for the chairman.

"Wonderful, Chef Niklas can hear, speak, and see now! Also proper movement, a wonderful bonus! You say that you met your wife and child, along with learning magic while in your senseless state? How strange, but fortunate. I must profess, I didn't know you had family, Chef Niklas, but, then again, I mostly stayed out of your way," Morton comments in his typical fashion. However, he then remembers something.

"By any chance, would someone here have a cloth I could use for a moment?"

"Not me, certainly."

The others look similarly clothless, though perhaps this is but a clever illusion of some kind.

[Xantalos]

You're all talking a bit loudly; I think Bearin made my hearing a tad too sensitive. I don't quite know how I'm communicating with them, but they're here nontheless.

Semi-aquaintances, Torkel. Two of them are due a beating from me.

[Innsmothe]

Scott will search for an mempty barrel on the dockside, bringing it up for practice.

[Spinal_Taper]

"So, the crown! Was there anything else they said about it?"

Darren spoke rather loud, hoping to get the two to stop argueing.