In the lobby of the de Jong and Associates Bank...
Sigmund, getting the feeling that vouching for someone probably has hideous magical repercussions of some kind, tries to get out of the thing he agreed to do moments ago.
"I'm sorry, sir, but, reconsidering your offer, I'm afraid I will have to decline it. I'm going on a trip to very distant lands, but if magic is involved in the contract, I would still be charged with your debt in case you don't pay. It's nothing personal, but I wouldn't risk my name for a stranger. I hope you can find somebody to help you."
"But there's no magic! You just sign on a line and give your word that I'm good for a loan!"
Sigmund, however, has none of it. He ignores the man, turns around and leaves. However, the man keeps following him.
"Come on, man! I need the loan badly! I could lose my house! Please, help me! I'm beggin' ya! I own a business in town, I'm really good for the loan! And it's not like they'll extract payment from ya if ya aren't around!"
Hm. He could lead this guy all the way to Gerfluski and Sons. But this certainly is getting annoying.
In the cargo hold of the shrieking ship of Shriekpot...
Kevin considers asking the captain of the ship about the whereabouts of the Things Below. Then he realizes that it would be pretty awkward to ask without any vocal folds to speak of. Oh well. Better resumes the relentless whacking of clams. He sets upon the large, splotchy clam and starts to discipline it with his rubber oar.
[Smashing roll: 5]
He decides to flip the oar sideways in order to maximize the force put into the blow into one point! Surprisingly, it works rather great, as the shell is thoroughly cracked and some of the pieces fall into it.
Disappointingly, no carnage results. All is quiet on the exploratory front.
Morton, stricken with the lack of potentially productive activity, goes for a chat while observing the unusually successful clam-smashing. Sadly, he chooses Mark the Speechless Tree-Fiend as his target this time.
"Excuse me, sir, but what happened to your arm? Did you manage to find the creatures talked about?"
Mark doesn't look like he's ready to talk about it yet, though. How sad. What's even more sad is that there really don't seem to be any other creatures than the clams. Or at least that's Niklas' opinion. But he remains an optimist at heart. When life gives you corpses, you make delicious goulash.
"The clams are the creatures, then? Disappointing, though tasty. Shall we bring one of them up?"
Morton has a bit more of a positive view of things.
"Truly? That's a bit... like good luck, actually. It's nice to have things go easy for once. How about this one, chef Niklas? After Kevin's had his way with it, of course. I'm sure you can make a mean dish out of it."
Niklas pets his cat, whose acceptance is cold and absolute.
"Sure, why not. Well, cat, you survived this, as notdangerous as it was. I'll not cook you. Instead I will train you in the ways of killing."
Suddenly the group hears a voice from the entrance to the cargo hold.
"We are leaving. The magic ship apparently exists. We are riding on it. Follow quickly."
Looking over at the source, some of the group notice the head of Evelyn poking out of the open door to the hold momentarily before it disappears.
In the captain's quarters of the shrieking ship of Shriekpot...
Scott figures he can get this whole brain-pan thing out of the way while walking to the ship. Time's a-wastin', after all. He gestures at Erin and Evelyn, beckoning them to come with him.
"Wait, wait, wait. We can't leave our buddies down there without any directions!"
"Yes. That would be inconsiderate. I will tell them."
Evelyn heads down below decks, coming back about a minute later.
"We may go. Slowly."
And they set off, not in a particular rush.
"So, how do I construct a brain-pan?"
"Well, ya see, there's two ways. Ya can either try to duplicate an organic system, which is difficult due to needing to understand how brains work, which nobody entirely does, or try to make it all mechanical and whatnot with algorithmic decisions or some such. Mechanical is easier, but the creation can't think new thoughts or properly adapt most of the time. Organic is pretty hard, and nobody can do it perfectly, at least not transmuters, but ya get such beautiful results sometimes. Makes ya happy ya took Neural Engineering at the University and looked at mental brain-pictures a lot."
Erin looks a bit wistful as she seems to return to a different time in her mind.
Back in Emlocke...
Since the armored lady business is done with, Darren sees no reason to stick around.
"Well... I guess."
"Very good. Let's go. Not far."
The dog leads both Darren and the whip man back to the square. It points toward a rather luxurious house over a pit. Oh, hey, that's the house the tree-head fell out of. And then he fell into the pit as the ground disappeared under his feet. There are about ten straight meters of bottomless pit between the house and the gang.
"That house. Last one. Mage there. Any ideas?"
It looks at the whip man, who appears to be lost in thought, then at Darren.
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Topic: Life Begins At Death - Epilogue: We Live And Live Again (Read 562610 times)