On the deck of the Second Shank...
Sigmund, figuring that what he clearly needs is more power, tries again to stop the flow of air in the area.
[Sigmund's magic roll: 4]
Once again, the winds do not abate and continue to swirl around Sigmund, funneling in strange ways, then repelling strangely. As Sigmund wonders what it is that keeps going wrong, he notices that Erin seems to be asking him something.
"Whatcha doing there, Sigmund?"
Morton, who is just nearby, doesn't seem to spare the wild magic happening nearby a single thought. Instead, he is entirely consumed by consideration on how to make Justine drink some tea and thus attain progress on new serving solutions for people who don't actually have any physiological needs - he's sure that someone knows something about the matter. Probably Art - he is both the most worldly and most acquainted with undead around here. And he has some additional questions for the man as well, so it's all good. With this in mind, he heads below decks to locate the necromancer, and concludes that he most definitely isn't in the cargo hold. A bit of additional seeking after that reveals that he is in the den, reading a book on divination while the Captain converses with a wall.
Back on deck, Scott guesses that, since there's nothing better to do, he might as well dive overboard and look for shellfish and seaweed - nobody's allergic to those, right? He clumsily hefts himself over the guardrail and flops into the extremely salty water once again, diving into the depths of the briny sea.
As he sinks, he notices a lobster idly swimming along the sea. It looks kind of lost, he thinks. And rather large - dog-sized, in fact. He never did like this sea - too many strange inhabitants!
In the streets of Shriekpot...
Mark, realizing that Niklas is up to no good as usual, tries to quickly grab the chair and get out of there already - too much time has been inefficiently utilized already, and Mark already has a whole lot of corpses to his name.
[Opposed strength: Mark vs. Niklas: 6 vs. 4]
Even though Niklas squawks, yells and growls, trying to reverse Mark's steel grip, but the skeleton is deft enough that the chef doesn't really stand a chance. Mark just picks him up and leaves as the strange man tears apart the newly-arrived chair with his bare hands, then smashes each individual fragment into many pieces meticulously.
Supposing that this fight probably arose due to chairs, Mark takes Niklas to a nearby tavern - the Webbed Toe. The place is not quite as lively as it appeared from the outside, he notices - in fact, the tavern, despite the ruckus, has only five current occupants - two women having a telekinetic fight with the available furniture and corpses, and three people having a conversation at one of the tables - a golden skeleton in a robe, a man who looks like he's stepped out of a painting and Kevin, fortuitously enough. Their voices are somewhat audible over the sound of furniture crashing and the soft hum of telekinetic interference.
"Anyway, our master is some sort of divine accountant or something, so I guess he wants to earn some money with Horizon Island or something..."
"Probably trying to go to the Realm of Dreams - not many do these days. Guess people do learn with time, huh?"
"Well, it's certainly not the wisest quest, is it? I don't know anyone who's returned from there, and many have gone."
"'Cept Lyman, maybe. He's still around."
"Him actually going is kind of apocryphal, though. He's never confirmed it. Then again, nobody's asked him."
"Seems likely that he'd be able to, anyway."
"Let's not talk about him, though. I keep getting this feeling that he's right behind me when you mention his name."
"A not unreasonable feeling, I might say!"
"Yes, quite!"
They seem to be having fun. And Kevin looks pretty happy.
In an artifact weapon-pet store...
Darren, knowing that a simple 'maybe later' probably won't suffice, tries to let the woman down easily.
"Ah, wow! Quite a bargain," he says, rustling through his pockets very much like a true vaudevillian would, but coming up with nothing, and providing an adequate expression of sadness to go with it.
"Ah. Unfortunate. I think I may have left my wallet back on my body. I'm sorry."
"But... but... you must buy one!" the woman says, laughing nervously. "They are so sad and lonely, but now you are here, and everything will be all right! You will buy a pet and will love it for the rest of your life, and then it will be happy and you will be happy! Can't you see?"
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Topic: Life Begins At Death - Epilogue: We Live And Live Again (Read 563702 times)