At a shipwreck-rich beach in Mothdale...Sigmund, upon getting his intellect insulted, realizes that you're really a nobody until you have a tent to call your own, like a general's tent, or a war tent, or a lead researcher's tent! Tents do correspond to status, after all. And since nobody else has a tent, he doesn't even have to try very hard on his! With this in mind, he runs off to loot the ships. After obtaining a whole lot of sailcloth, sticks and chairs, he commences the construction of his tent, drafting plans in the sand, then acting on them in short order.
A bit of time passes, and he's got a tent! It's an unorthodox in its construction, Sigmund thinks, but he believes he's got most of the necessary things right - there's a central wooden tower, a delicately arranged entranceway, and even what he would say is a rather fetching set of wooden gargoyles decorating the facade. Proud of his work, he steps inside. And at just that moment, a stiff breeze decides to blow upon the magnificent structure, perhaps jealous of the works of man daring to approach those of the divinity in scope and beauty, and the entire thing promptly collapses onto Sigmund in a rather painful fashion, and his body makes several sudden cracks that Sigmund believes to lie squarely in the realm of not good.
Well, at least he's out of the sun.
Scott, who is still underground and still a mildly pulsating, amorphous lump of burnt ectoplasm, wonders how best to deal with his situation. The obvious course of action is to reverse it, definitely.
"Walk me through how to reform myself first, so I can be a better servant."~what we know, you know! our information on the matter comes solely from your head! justine is uneducated on the matter!~Oh well. Was worth a shot. Scott tries to reform himself on his own instead.
[Scott's reformation roll: 3-
2]
It doesn't work, however, similarly to how it didn't work back on the ship when he tried to recreate his body. This is most disappointing.
~actually, your new appearance does not seem to impair you in any way! this is good to know!~Inside the Red Tower of Power...Niklas says that he'd love to prove that his culinary chops cannot be beaten, under the stipulation that he be provided a grasping limb, a pointy thing and some organic material.
"Agreed. Wait a few moments."A few moments pass, and the fat woman nods.
"Let's go."The room around Niklas seems to shatter, leaving behind a room empty of anything except a single, rather large uprooted tree and a steel end table with an awl resting atop it along with a metallic clawlike instrument. Niklas glances around him, and notices the Mentor floating next to him. She looks at Niklas and says
"Begin," then disappears.
At one of Mothdale's mortuaries...Mark figures that he shouldn't follow those dolphins lest he wind up endangering the lives of whatever dwells inside the canals. So he instead tries to make something interesting on his own.
[Mark's "medicine" roll: 1+1]
He can't quite drum up the inspiration to create a dragon - for one, he can't decide whether it would be more accurate to give it two legs or four. And how many pairs of wings should it have? Would it be serpentine or dinosaur-like? Most importantly, how would he make it breathe fire? A dragon without fire breath is no dragon at all as far as Mark is concerned, and he might as well not try rather than disgrace the intriguing ideas in his head.
In the streets of the engineers' quarter of the City of the Dead...Darren, finally feeling like a proper magician after so long, tries his best to impress the kids by incorporating telekinesis into his acts, something he hadn't actually tried before. So, while doing a rather interesting coin trick with his hands, he also tries to perform another, simpler one in the air right above.
[Telekinesis roll: 4]
Fortunately for Darren, neither trick requires much thought on his part, and so it is rather simple to concentrate on his telekinetic abilities instead. The result is a seemingly impossible feat - a coin floating above Darren's hands splits into two smaller coins just as he smashes two other coins together with his hands. Visually impressive, and the way the coin floats in the air makes it easier to convey a sense of mystery as well as leave little room for obvious sleight of hand. The kids are quite impressed.
"How does he do that?""Magic, you dunce!""Not just magic, I think. Unless the coins are false, you can't freely transmute currency. At least, that's how it should be.""Huh?""Impressive tricks. Not magic."In a temple of Velusius...Kevin, currently the victim of quite the bit of malaise, looks for some sort of high place to gain better visibility from. Sadly, though, he can't see any such place. Not that it would do much good - the hall itself is only two stories high, and seemingly empty of life and value. Quite the depressing place, all in all.
Deep, deep underground...Timothy's telepathic communication having proven unfeasible, the ghost tries more conventional communication methods.
"Uh... Hello?" he squeaks quietly.
"I's a bit losted... you maybe helps me?"The creature shuffles a bit, then starts to emit a very unpleasant high-pitched sound and scratch at something in its vicinity. Timothy appropriately takes this as a cue to leave immediately, floating rapidly away and not looking back until he is very far away. So far away, in fact, that he seems to have reached some kind of room. It's very dark and seems decisively abandoned, but he can't really vouch for its exact contents in any way.