In a warehouse at the port of Shriekpot...
Niklas heads off to another building after rolling around on the ground in expectation of death from vaguely-known forces. He is disappointed in Ninja Chef when no such death sees fit to make an appearance. Damn it, Ninja Chef, where have all the good times gone? Dejected, he heads out in search of other buildings.
Fortunately, there's the Feisty Jelly in the neighborhood, now home to a lesser amount of worthless drunks than before! It is here that his next masterpiece may be wrought and appreciated.
In Joyous Hanford's Emporium of Biological Wonders...
Mark is eager to hear Joyous Hanford's offers of biological enhancement, as these may coincide with his artistic visions of the future. And what visions they are indeed! He squashes the Metatablet, flattens it once more and writes out his needs, then shows the tablet to Hanford.
"Ah! Biological enhancement! Yes. I have a very special thing relating to that sort of thing - obtained her from a very special source!"
He once more plunges his hand into the wall and, after he's done with his usual ritual, pulls out something resembling a human arm in both size and form, except for the fact that instead of fingers, it has tentacles running around its mouth, which is located about where the palm would be. In addition, there's a sausage-like quality to it you don't see in most arms, not to mention the fact that it is mostly without joints. So, really, it's only arm-like in size and from a great distance.
"This is Regina. Wrap her around a subject's throat and make sure her sweet lips have access to the back of the head. She'll give a kiss to the lucky chosen one and they'll be hers for a sweet, sweet week or two. And in that week, she'll have made the perfect husband! Muscles like you won't believe, brains of a genius, occasionally magical abilities and, of course, total, complete subservience to her and, by extension, her owner! You see, Regina loves her master in an unconditional manner, and you only need to make her imprint upon you and she'll be yours for life. Now, for this magnificent baby I ask only the humble price of 8 gold coins - I assure you, she's most certainly worth more. I've sold her sisters to mages, kings and even a grand spymaster or two, and none have ever complained! I'll set her down here," he says, putting Regina down. She wiggles on the ground, making a sound reminiscent of purring. Hanford himself then retrieves a marble-sized, fleshy and pale sphere from the wall.
"And these are the Friendly Brain Termites and I do suppose they are exactly what you think if you happen to think like me! Their principle of use is far simpler than Regina's - you hold a person down, preferably utilizing the Happy-Happy first, then stick this little puppy up their nose, making sure it's deep enough to be real warm. The friendly bugs will get to work and make their brain really bustle, if you know what I mean. Extremely painful, the process, and you'll probably need restraints even with the Happy-Happy, but it works wonderfully. They build amazing hives within the cranium, really efficient. Changes the thought process something fierce, and though there's occasionally swelling, it doesn't take long for them to expand the skull to a practical size. Though there's frequently a spot of amnesia afterwards, the subjects most often didn't really need those memories anyway. They do, however, make great use of their new intellectual capacity. Now, I myself do not know exactly how they do it, but in many cases I've seen a twofold improvement in mental efficiency, perceptiveness and general intellect! Of course, there are personality changes and certain aberrant thought patterns, but those are minor side effects. Four gold coins, good sir, and all this termite goodness can be yours," Hanford continues, not missing a beat. He then pulls a seemingly-cooked slice of meat from the wall.
"Finally, I have the Completely Non-Suspicious Slice of Meat. Tastes glorious, and I would know, and looks to be just like any bit of meat you'd buy... or obtain otherwise. But there's a catch! This meat wasn't made by any ordinary chef! An entire team of worms specially trained and groomed from birth were responsible for this culinary masterpiece both in taste and in appearance! And as payment, they require you to eat it. Once this is done, they do you one more favor! They take up residence in your muscle tissues and get to work making you a better, shapelier, stronger and faster you! They're like trichinellas, but far, far nicer. They were made that way, after all. 4 gold coins for the fast-track to becoming a glorious physical superman! And I have many more inventions to make one's life better. Do you wish to see more, or have you seen enough to make an informed decision? Or perhaps a more precise direction that you wish for your future friends?"
On the shrieking ship of Shriekpot...
Kevin, not very optimistic about his chances, still taps Erin on the shoulder.
"Wait up, ya invalid. Gotta get this done already!"
[Erin magic roll: 3+2-1]
The mast starts to grow again, regaining its original shape. Still no sails, though.
In the former Yaleson house...
Sigmund and Morton, happy little alchemists that they are, get to work on that fungal terror that they have planned.
"I will get some dry branches and leaves, you get some stones and prepare something to contain the fire."
"Of course, good Sir Sigmund, if lumber is required the woodpile survived the changing of the domicile and it is right outside the... um... well, there's no back door anymore. But where the back door should be in any reasonable home. Would you like to do this inside, or perhaps outside the house? A, if I say so myself, decent fire pit is already prepared from earlier, although it is currently outside the manor, and a woodland animal may have savaged it in my leave."
Morton then takes a look outside. Fire pit's still there. Good.
"I'd rather do it in the outside, as I don't want to risk burning the house in the process. Not that it is likely to happen, but, well, my luck has been terrible recently. I don't think that we need a lot of wood, too, as this grows quite quickly. Remember how was Mark? We should try to not make a big fire."
"Yes, I do remember. They were quite hard to get off, if I do say so, takes to scalding water much too pleasantly. The house is mostly stone, but I understand good Sir Sigmund, sometimes it seems like fate works against one to make failure spectacular and logic-defying."
They then go their separate ways. Sigmund disappears into the woods as Morton provides exposition to nobody in particular as he stands around the fire with no fuel for it.
"In the pit, I shall start the fire and cover it with this flat rock, it makes a wonderful makeshift cooking surface. It will warm the pot up nice and evenly. It will also give a bit of a delay for the heat to affect it, I believe."
Sigmund, meanwhile, wanders about the woods and looks for some branches that he may find useful. Fortunately, there's a pretty dead-looking tree over there that he could plunder. He approaches it and pulls on the branches.
The tree smacks him upside the face with another branch, though. Huh. And it appears to be, well, looking at him somehow. Uh, backing away now. Rapidly. Sigmund runs back to the fire pit empty-handed. Not sure what came over him, really. Just had an impulse to run.
Probably for the best, really.
Morton looks over at the arriving Sigmund, noticing that he appears to have rather prominent reddish-brown marks across his face now.
At the docks of Shriekpot...
Scott, left with no other option, looks for mercantile means of obtaining the treasure that is a good bit of high-quality pitch.
Once again, he neglects to consider that it's nighttime and acts shocked when no place is open at this hour.
Near a town on the wet, miserable plains...
Darren quickly tries to reshape the golem and make him more humany.
About half an hour later, he'd say he's made a very nice sculpture of a handsome bard out of the dirt the golem is made of, complete with wide-brimmed hat. He's still uniformly dirt-colored, but what can you do. Maybe he'll say it was an unfortunate accident of some sort with magic and whatnot. Or maybe he can just make the golem wear the hat in a mysterious way and say that he prefers to wear earthen tones.
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Topic: Life Begins At Death - Epilogue: We Live And Live Again (Read 565503 times)