In the home of the Artiste...
Scott, his experiment still in progress, looks for a knife to further his own goals. He finds a kitchen knife easily enough. Not a ridiculously sharp one or anything, but a reasonably lethal kitchen knife no less. He then smears death paste all over it.
Then Niklas dumps a pot of soup all over him, washing off most of the horse innards he worked so hard to put on! Damn it all, you're going to pay for this, you weirdo!
[Scott vs. Niklas: 5+1 vs. 6]
As he swings the knife, Niklas takes a step back. How impolite! Niklas washed him and everything, not to mention prevented access to the eldritch mysteries falling under the purview of master chefs, and this is the thanks he gets?
At the storefront of Brenwicke's Books...
Sigmund tries to enter the store as noiselessly as possible. However, the door is locked, as are the windows on the first floor. He isn't so sure about the upper two floors, though. Couldn't hurt to check.
Pretty well-secured bookstore, this place.
At the top floor of the Artiste's house...
Morton tries to quickly relay the information he possesses. He is not entirely successful.
"Ah, good morning master, I'm glad to hear that you slept well. Not used to sleeping though? I recall wasting many hours sleeping when I was yet still alive."
"Yes, but you've been a living human for far longer than I have."
"Ah, yes, sorry for drifting off topic there. Anyhow, the night fared me well, very well. Kevin and I managed to get into an agreement with a ship captain of a galley. They agreed to take us where we wished for no monetary cost, although they did wish us to change the look of both them self and their ship. Seeing how the cozy manor of my previous master is no longer standing here, instead this interesting structure of stone, I attributed it to no large task. I assume the captain to be undead however, ghost perhaps? They did mention being dead and how money no longer served them, but seeing as you don't mind the rest of us 'second-chancers' I didn't think this to be a problem."
"Indeed! Fine work... Morton, was it? I think it was Morton. I suppose those are agreeable enough terms. After all, we have Erin. I have confidence in her abilities!" he says, nodding at Erin. Erin smiles and waves back.
"So, no sense in fooling around."
He walks over to the sleeping woman and pokes her.
"Are you awake yet? Because you should be!"
She clearly isn't. Heavy sleeper, looks like.
"Ah. Well, then. Guess we'll wait for her to get up. No sense in having a grumpy, sleep-deprived mage running about destroying things, eh?"
In the sea next to Shriekpot...
Mark, confident that nothing can go wrong, waits in the sea for the fungus to die off completely.
[Tree endurance roll: 3]
[Fungus endurance roll: 5-2]
The mushrooms seem to be mostly gone. However, his leaves also seem to be in quite a sad state right now. They seem to be beginning to shrivel up.
In an alley in Emlocke...
Darren is content at the man's affirmative.
"Okay then, good."
He then begins to look for a mage around the area. The dog sniffs the air as it follows him, but says nothing.
After searching the neighborhood thoroughly, he comes to the conclusion that there aren't any mages here! In fact, it's possible that they never have been. He relays these troubling news to the dog.
"Yes, naturally. All dead. We eliminated. Now shush."
Sniffing the air and pointing its head in a certain direction, the dog heads that way, the man following it. Having very little better to do, Darren follows.
Soon enough, they come upon a curious scene. A woman covered from head to toe in heavy armor purposefully striding down a ruined street, shield and hammer in hand.
"That's one. Walking alone. Possibly unstable. Some knight."