At the guard headquarters of Shriekpot...Scott decides to not stand for this kind of treatment.
"I'll have you know that the 'dead guy' is a transfigured construct of a peculiar infernomancer, who is partner to a very powerful necromancer to boot! Would you like to annoy those sorts of people? Return the remains to the haunted ship at the docks as a gesture of supplication, or at least neutrality."He glares at Carlson.
"...and please don't speak of my husband in such a manner."Well, I'm sure all these people who definitely exist will be perfectly willing to come over from their jolly little haunted ship to vouch for you, buddy. And I haven't even begun to talk about that freak, though mostly because he's not the sort of thing you mention in polite society."Sigmund, currently busy silently fuming over the mockery of the name his mother gave him, decides to explain a bit about his history.
"That IS my actual name. My mother had an affair with a farmer called Grimes. When she got pregnant of me, her husband, whose surname was Drakers, had a legal dispute with the farmer about who was my real father. The local judge was on a funny mood that day, and decided that I was the son of both, so he set my legal surname as a mix of both.""Eh, alright. Have it your way. What about the dead guy? What was his name? And the chair-thing?"Said dead guy,
Kevin, is currently busy getting dragged through the corridors of the guard headquarters. The guards remove all his earthly possessions - they somewhat fail at taking off his clothes, as those seem to be fused directly onto his body, much to the guards' puzzlement. Still, after thoroughly looting whatever can be looted off the guy, the guards place him into a sack, sewing it shut with practiced hands, then dragging him through another set of corridors until they reach what Kevin thinks might be a yard. He can hear digging sounds, which persist for a short while, and then he feels getting flung into a rather shallow hole - just a little less than a meter deep, he'd say. Guess the guards were feeling lazy today. He stays still while dirt is liberally shoveled on top of him, which also continues for a while.
When he is absolutely sure he is alone, Kevin decides to try and dig himself out.
[Kevin digging roll: 3-
1]
However, even with a hole this shallow, Kevin finds that it's very difficult to get out. If only he had had more practice in his time - perhaps if the old king had let him go to the beach, maybe, just maybe this wouldn't be so bad.
At the Brotherhood of Fine Furniture and Other Odds and Ends...Niklas tries to elaborate to the best of his abilities.
"I'd like the chairs to be made out of steel, about the same size as the one that serves as my hand currently but with 6-inch spikes all over them. Optimally aerodynamic, if you could, and deadly, yes. Intimidating is preferred. No markings necessary, the blood of my foes will do. What would be the cost for two of those?""Steel is rather cheap, not very difficult to make at all, so we start from the standard 1 gold rate. The spikes will cost a little extra, about two silvers for the desired size. Aerodynamic design is difficult, and will cost 2 gold. Preferred style is intimidating and obviously deadly, which is 2 more silvers for guaranteed frightening visages. No poison, either - that's 3 gold and 4 silvers per chair, 7 gold and 3 silvers for both. And that's if you provide the courtesy amount of material, which is a quarter of the weight of the end product, slightly less if you do not. Perhaps you'd like to specify a particular desired weight for the chairs as well?"On the shrieking ship of Shriekpot...Morton finds the idea of going for a walk on the town rather agreeable.
"Hm, you do have a point. I was actually about to comment how I'm starting to become a touch worried about the others, it has been a while since they've left. Surely they haven't gotten into any trouble, yes? Either way, a walk would be wonderful, I'm hoping that if I get used to this form more I should find it easier to get around so it is well due. Places always take on a new look after dark afterwards, there are many things one can only see when others have left.""Not going to be dark for much longer. I think dawn might be breaking soon. Anyhow, let's go," Art says, walking off, with Morton following closely behind.
"Don't DISAPPEAR now, will you?" the Captain's head, which is currently poking out from the deck, states plainly.
"Yeah, sure," Art answers, and he and Morton go out, the crystal warrior princess and fabulous desk respectively walking and rhythmically wobbling forward side by side.
"So, uhm, know anyplace interesting?"In Undefined Space...Timothy, intent on not giving up, tries once more to fix this whole mess and imagine Skelehippo alive and well! He summons up his entire will, intent on brute-forcing his way through the boundaries of reality, and he succeeds! Well, in a way, anyhow. As in, there's now a gaping, screaming hole in front of him, and several appendages of uncertain origin that protrude from the thing appear to be grasping for him presently.
[Timothy dodge roll: 3]
He is rather weakly grabbed by one such appendage, which is strange, because he hasn't been grabbed by anything in ages.
[Timothy strength roll: 6]
Fortunately, he reasserts his superiority by pulling his intangible foot out of said appendage and calmly floating away before he's caught. Well, guess there's little else to do but give up - he shudders to think what other possible misadventures might ensue should he keep trying.
And with that, he looks... well... in some direction. Really, the voices are coming from everywhere, he thinks. He tries to successfully convey an image to them - a carnival wagon. His carnival wagon, actually. Despite much of his memory being slightly muddled, he remembers that place, and remembers it well. The image is something one does not forget. Once he thinks this, the voices seem to react - they react very vividly, actually. They shout and hoot, and Timothy finds it difficult to get their point at first, but it comes to him quickly enough.
They are saying he is going to die should he return home. He cannot return home, home is death. But he can go elsewhere instead. To better places. Less deadly places.
At the engineers' gate of the City of the Dead...Darren tries to ask the gibbon a question, abolishing any thought of the notion being more than merely borderline ridiculous.
"Do you know anything about the girl that comes in here occasionally? The one who brings things to the surface?"The gibbon nods once again, looking very pleased with itself in some very distant way.
Author
Topic: Life Begins At Death - Epilogue: We Live And Live Again (Read 564143 times)