In the basement of the Red Tower of Power...Niklas, knowing how disappointed Lifeboy must be, having been deprived of both the visceral explosions of, well, viscera all lifemages are known to enjoy as well as the opportunity to lift himself out of sidekick status into the glorious heights of heroism, assuages his concerns in what he feels is a very reasonable fashion.
"Well, now you get the pleasure of my company!" he says, and Lifeboy perks up immediately.
"That's right! And maybe I can do experiments on you now! You know, to check why you didn't explode! And how we can change that!"Appreciative of Lifeboy's enthusiasm, Niklas gives his metaphysical senses, also known as eyes, a good flex, and looks over himself. He still appears to be in a lady's body, albeit with better eyes and such, and seems to have absolutely no tentacles, which is something he most certainly would not have expected from a god such as Patricia. How very disappointing.
He does notice a rather large, scary, glowing face looking at him from nearby.
"A messenger! I wonder what it wants?" Lifeboy says.
"YOUR PRESENCE IS REQUESTED UPSTAIRS BY MISTRESS REDDING!" the face suddenly blares at the two of them, causing Lifeboy to jump a little. Not Niklas, though - if he was put off by mere screaming, why, he wouldn't have survived past his third birthday in the North!
"Mine or hers?" Lifeboy asks curiously, and this gives the face some pause.
"BOTH!" it eventually says and poofs out of existence.
At Eckledun's market...Mark, knowing that nothing bad has ever come of sidequests, decides to identify himself as suitably adventurous.
"Why, yes I am, good sir. What can I help you with today?""You are adventurous. Excensational. I need you to make a hands-off to many good friends of mine. It it this feathers, yes?" the man says, handing Mark a large feather with some kind of small sphere at its end.
"Cracking this spheres over heads of yours, and deals will be sealed, and we tell you where go," the man says, nodding and shaking his head alternatively.
In the dining hall of Castle Melville...Scott, upon getting an idea of the secret origins of the gub, has a very good question.
"... whose hell-inspired idea was it to give jellyfish a group sentience and aspirations of Godhood?!"Lady Melville thinks a moment, and is about to shrug, but then seems to have an idea.
"I can't say for sure, but, even though one can blame them for all such things for the world in any case, the Black Circle of Magic seems like a very good guess. Jurgen did have many differences with that band of amoral villains, vicious scum and self-styled scientists of the magical world. As ungodly a bunch as you will ever know in your life, I can guarantee that much," she says with a look of intense disdain for the subject.
"I do have a feeling you're correct," Justine confirms.
"The gub did seem to be very much a suddenly developing intelligence. And developing quickly at that.""So they did get Jurgen after all these years. It is a terrible shame," Lady Melville says, examining a recently-dusted portrait of a young man hanging on the opposite side of the room.
Morton, feeling he should inject more tact into a situation like this, pitches in with equal parts sympathy and empathy.
"My apologies, good lady Melville, I'm sorry for your loss, and that it must be this way that the news be broken to you. Had I'd known..." he begins, looking as sorry as a desk can be.
"We'd understand if you wish us to leave you be after the grave news.""Indeed, milady," Tailor Craig seems to agree,
"we are quite sorry."Lady Melville shakes her head, her expression becoming a little more sorrowful at the apologies.
"No, no, you didn't know. And it is not really the news of his death that sadden me so, not really," she says, trailing off quietly. Still, though, Morton believes there's something to be gleaned here, and tries to keep the information flowing in as cautious a way as possible.
"Good Lady Melville, while I hate to dwell on the subject, I'm afraid I'm unsure what dolphins have to do with the strange events. Some of my companions and myself faced three dolphins, but I don't believe they were rightly alive, nor particularly normal to what I've prior thought of them," he says slightly questioningly, and Lady Melville sighs in response, slightly regaining her composure before beginning to speak.
"The dolphins of the Sea of Death are... strange, good sir. Perverse and odd in just about every way. Word has it they devour the most terrible of poisons, and live afterwards, though their minds become twisted and their bodies become scarred. Fishermen dread to speak of the acts they see these lunatic dolphins enact on the Sea of Death, especially when the moon is out. They are terrible, vile creatures like none other, absolutely nothing like the kinder, gentler dolphins of the Sea of Pleasant Winds, though much greater in number," she explains.
"But please, let's not speak of them. It makes me uncomfortable to even consider them," Lady Melville says after a moment.
In the goddamn woods...Kevin, consumed by the intense and not entirely unfounded desire to blame Mark for everything, is nevertheless pressured by
Sigmund into guiding him and Art back to civilization. Goddamn vampires and their goddamn dependency on people guiding them everywhere in conga lines. Also, goddamn Art and his goddamn easily distracted nature.
"So, why are we in the woods again?" Art asks.
"I thought we were looking for mages, right?"Sterling observation, Art! If only Kevin had any prizes to give for such incredible skills. But no, he has only disdain to provide instead, though there is admittedly more than enough of that for everyone.
It takes about a solid hour of blundering through the unknown reaches of the woods, but eventually Kevin sees something! A cabin in the woods! Plus a trail leading away from it. Maybe whoever's in there could point him in the right direction? And presumably not murder him and wear his pelt in the process?
In the Temple of Automaton Worship...Darren goes with dropping his card while recommending that his friend do the same, and his friend seems to agree with this idea.
"Okay, three cards left - remember, you probably should keep at least one," he says as the next round ensues. His friend draws a card with the word "EXILE" on it, and he appears none too pleased with Darren's card, either.
"Uh, I know I said you should keep one, but let's just say you'd be better off without this one, okay?" he says, looking quite nervous suddenly.
Well, a month and a week has passed, and we're back, and I'm feeling kind of good about submitting a turn. Finals are over, and the world is in balance, and thus we may continue.