At the harbor of Shriekpot...
Morton, having found a willing ear, proceeds to make some reasonable offers and judgments.
"W-Well, what w-would you want t-then? If my n-newfound master h-has people who can turn others into b-blankets and mansions into s-stone egg shaped buildings, surely h-he can do s-something to h-help or get you w-whatever you m-might want. B-besides, what a-are you doing here i-if just s-sitting? W-why not just g-go somewhere and do t-things? I-I'm quite happy to be b-back alive and I wish to view the w-world, we're given a u-unique second chance! I d-don't intend to mope about having died, t-there's things to see, people to talk to, tea to be had!"
"HMMM.... What WOULD I want? WHAT would I want? What would I WANT?"
The subtle hum of a spirit's thought process emanates from the ship, with several ghostly oohs and ahs accompanying
"HOW ABOUT GIVING THIS SHIP A MAKEOVER? IT, as I'm sure you KNOW, DESPERATELY NEEDS ONE! THING'S BLOODY ANCIENT! OOH, AND A MAKEOVER FOR ME AS WELL! I look SO unfashionable NOW!"
In the home of the Artiste...
Niklas figures he'll give the kitchen a test. He slightly moves the icebox, grabbing a handful of mashed produce of unknown origin and proceeds to gargleblast it most intensely. Nobody is hurt in the process, surprisingly.
As he performs his unholy rite, the barbarian chef considers what his objective might have been. He comes to the conclusion that it probably involved horseflesh to some degree or another. Otherwise, why would he be the one chosen to perform this task?
Meanwhile, down below, Mark checks how explosively fertile and ready to multiply his mushrooms are.
After a brief look, he concludes that they're not quite ripe yet. That's kind of good. He gives Sigmund the all-clear.
Sigmund nods and goes to look for some blunt objects. Unfortunately, there aren't many around. At least not any that would help him break a sheet of glass a foot thick.
Back in Emlocke...
Darren smiles a rather smallish smile at the dog's peace offering.
"Yes, that's good. So, you're one of the mages then?"
[Opposed Strength: Man vs. Shingle Hand: 5+1 vs. 6+2]
Something stirs under the shingle hand, but nothing really comes out. Darren can hear something, though. It's a bit muffled by his shingle construct, but audible enough.
"Not exactly. Master here is. And Lucy. Wherever she is. But my name is Colin Burmont, Monster-Hunter Extraordinaire! Perhaps you've heard of me? It's not often that a creature such as yourself escapes my grasp."
"Yes, indeed. The Master. And you? Not competing. Cannot win. Why here?"
Back in Shriekpot...
Scott, being completely and utterly abandoned by his most trusted ex-servant, tries to help himself. There has to be some kind of doctor around!
He crawls and he crawls, finding out that this street certainly doesn't have any professional ones in ready availability. Dang!
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Topic: Life Begins At Death - Epilogue: We Live And Live Again (Read 565253 times)