At the guard HQ of Shriekpot...Sigmund is cautious about admitting guilt, at least when he doesn't know the punishment he might face.
"Well, first I feel the need to ask you two questions. The first is what kind of punishment does thievery deserve, and the second is if there is a way to decrease that punishment by doing any kind of charitative act.""Well, confessing will net you a summary confiscation of your current properties and also the confiscation of one of your arms. Not confessing will give you the same, except we confiscate both arms and possibly your head, depending on how much time is wasted in the process of us explaining that you were caught in the act and resisted arrest the first time around."Scott, not being a fan of either option, tries to go for the classic soulbound defense.
"Well, having been conscripted by a foreign necromancer, we can hardly be called anything other than tools, and should be treated as such. We cannot be culpable of any action we do as long as that action is ordered by the person who's magic binds us, for if we would refuse we would be magically tortured and compelled to do whatever nefarious task put forward without mind or control. Our crimes should thus, by necessity, ethics and empathy, be transferred to our master.""Ah, is that so? You say in all honesty that somebody magically compelled you and your accomplices to enter a bookstore unlawfully, slay several officers of the law and one civilian and resist arrest, which included multiple unsuccessful efforts to murder additional officers of the law?"In a shallow grave...Kevin tries to get out of this damn sack already. It's really tough to move in it.
[Kevin strength roll: 1-
1]
However, being encased in rather unyielding soil is rather unhelpful in that respect. In fact, his latest movements just result in the dirt packing itself around him quite a bit more densely than before - he can hardly move at all now.
In Undefined Space...Timothy, desperate to get out of this weird plane, tries one more memory - that of his childhood home, so distant and muddled, and yet quite important as well.
"Maybe dis not works... maybe I kinda hopes no... but here goes, try dis."He imagines the shack that couldn't even sink into a swamp right, the place where he spent his earliest years... quite the place it was, really. The bits of emotion seem to set the voices off once more, and they begin to furiously chatter once more - not in a positive fashion, though.
In fact, they seem to be getting quite annoyed - they keep repeating certain phrases to him, like 'not in the center', 'you will die', 'you are chained', 'move to the edge', 'find the guardians', 'ask for help'. They even enunciate the words with extreme emphasis. How strange.
At the Brotherhood of Fine Furniture and Other Odds and Ends...Niklas asks more about the prices in this joint.
"How much would 40 kilogram chairs cost?""Still the standard price, good sir, but the courtesy material fees increase - you only get the standard price if you provide 20 or so kilograms of material, and a discount of 1 gold coin if you provide the full weight of the chair in preferably metallic goods."In the streets of Shriekpot...Morton tries to recall the direction the ship was in.
"Hm, I believe it to be this way, if I recall..."He leads Art down the docks over to where he saw the ship last - it is still there, fortunately enough, and it appears completely empty of life at first sight - no lights, no people, no activity. As the two approach closer, this impression proves completely correct - there really doesn't seem to be anyone aboard right now. Art looks at Morton, shrugs and steps aboard.
He then stops in his tracks, slightly weirded out by something.
"Uhm... hello. What? Oh, right," he says, becoming quiet after a moment of confused speech. He appears to be concentrating, though there's also a strange look to him, almost like childlike wonder, or at least the closest thing to childlike wonder that one can read from a face that is half-transparent.
At the engineers' gate of the City of the Dead...Darren, not really having the patience for the roundabout ways of the gibbon, reiterates what he wants.
"Please do so."The giant gibbon seems to think for a bit. It then shakes its head vigorously, giving Darren a hearty two-thumbs-down.
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Topic: Life Begins At Death - Epilogue: We Live And Live Again (Read 556458 times)