In the streets of Shriekpot...Mark decides to be a bit subtler with this particular drunk than usual and take a stealthy approach.
Kevin, meanwhile, takes the chance to sit on his bony, fractured pelvis and look at the ensuing events.
[Stealth: Mark vs. Big Guy: 2-
1 vs. 2-
1]
He walks up to the guy, who turns around uncomprehendingly at the last moment.
[Mark vs. Big Guy: 2+
1 vs. 1-
1-
1]
However, this doesn't help his chances. His throat is messily slit as Mark steps forth and swings it wildly in the guy's general direction. Lucky shot, really.
In a shipyard of some sort...Scott is also in the middle of a sneaky sneaking spree, and sneaks to the best of his ability while keeping an eye out for barrels of pitch.
[Scott stealth roll: 5]
He becomes one with the shadows as he skulks about the shipyard, utilizing the rather poorly-lit conditions of the area to his great advantage. Having conquered the foreboding darkness, he goes about the search. Fortunately, this being a shipyard, there's a whole bunch of barrels of pitch within easy reach. At last, victory!
In the kitchen of the Feisty Jelly...Niklas gives a perfectly reasonable explanation for his actions.
"No, I was trying to shave you and the knife slipped.""Oh. Oh! Heh, sorry. Well, I'll be leavin' then, I guess. Didn't really need a shave anyway, methinks. Why am I here?"The honored chef and the drunkard promptly both leave the kitchen.
"Gorram guards. Can't do anything without my cleaver. Those knives were really good, too!" Niklas mutters with a good dose of dissatisfaction.
At the Tree of Hate...Sigmund shakes off the leftover lumber from his esteemed person.
"This was definitely something one doesn't see every day. I want ask someone about plants and emotions. This really doesn't make sense."He looks at the rather angry tree and shrugs.
"At least we have some wood now. Help me carry it to the house."It is at about this point that Sigmund remembers that his pelvis is broken. This makes walking a bit difficult, as one might imagine.
"As you wish, good Sir Sigmund. Seems I didn't get out much at all if these were around the place and I had no idea. Probably explained why we didn't have much in the terms of visitors," comes an observation from
Morton.
"Are you quite alright, good Sir Sigmund? Are you harmed?"Well, he clearly isn't quite alright, Morton finds. So he just picks up as many branches as he can, then drags Sigmund back to the fire pit. Sigmund asks for a branch, and Morton hands one over, whereupon the vampire inspects it. He concludes that it is obviously a branch and not a clever imitation of some kind. It presumably came from the Tree of Hate, and therefore it is bad somehow. After all, if it was good, it would send the wrong message.
"Maybe we should try to make a fire, so that at least we can tell if keeping this mushroom is worthwhile or not.""Agreed, good Sir Sigmund." Morton then places some of the gathered branches in the fire, noticing that they're rather dry, and so forgoes the gathering of any dead grass. He then lights the branches with his lighter.
This is when shit gets weird, to use the vernacular. The branches burst into raging flames, producing a massive amount of reddish-brown smoke that billows from the fire rapidly. Morton barely manages to step back before he is engulfed in the fog that forms on the fire. There's something unusual about it, he finds - the smoke seems to tend in his direction a bit. And he isn't standing upwind of the fire.
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Topic: Life Begins At Death - Epilogue: We Live And Live Again (Read 565565 times)