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[Harry Baldman]

On the streets of Shriekpot...

Sigmund, seeing how Morton is very, very naked and not quite ready to answer most questions without stuttering abominably at the very least, takes the lead with the strange fellow.

"Yes, of course, sir. Are you a tailor of some kind?"

"Sort of. I can help the naked fellow, certainly."

"Y-yes, yes, clothes would be most excellent good sir, I-I appear to have wound up indecent by... s-something. I'm not sure how exactly."

"Think nothing of it. Happens all the time, really. Now it's time to aid you."

He takes out a bit of chalk and draws an unbroken circle around Morton, drawing seven sigils around its side. Morton is about to ask a question, but the man snaps his lobster-claw and the circle becomes a black hole in the ground. Before Morton can react, he is violently sucked inside of it.

Sigmund stares at the man dumbfounded.

"Oh, don't worry. He'll survive. I think."

Morton, meanwhile, flies through what he believes is a realm of infinite darkness. Then it transcends into a realm of infinite color. Swirling, prismatic winds tear at his flesh as he sails through the howling abyss, rainbows searing his eyes and spectral patterns vividly emerging and radiating from his body.

Suddenly, he is aware of a rogue fractal pattern of mauve approaching him! It asks him a question!

"Why, hello there, little girl! Might I ask what you're doing here? Are you lost?"


On the shrieking ship of Shriekpot...

Mark decides to go harpoon fishing while he's at this. He hooks a stray piece of meat on the harpoon and lowers it in the ocean.

[Fishing roll: 3]

Nothing seems to be biting, though. Aside from this one really tiny fish that Mark pulls out. How regrettable.

Scott, meanwhile, has the idea of a lifetime. He goes over to the Artiste in the den, currently in the middle of a very nice dinner and chat with Erin, Evelyn, Art and the Captain, and offers the mushroom to his beloved overlord.

The Artiste looks at the mushroom.

"Ah, Scott, you've done it again! You've brought food! Many thanks," he says, taking the mushroom. As he holds it in his hands, his fingers begin to blacken.

"Hm, judging by the hideous pain in my fingers I would say they are rapidly decomposing! How terrible!"

He places the mushroom back on the dusting rag.

"Now, Erin, could you please fix my hand? I'm afraid it might fall off or poison my bloodstream or some such if I don't do anything about it."

"Right, sure."

[Erin magic roll: 3]

As Erin halfheartedly gestures from her seat, the Artiste's arm becomes shinier.

"Ah, not a bad job, Erin, but could you be a tad more helpful on your second attempt?"

"Um... maybe?"

Erin stands up and points at the Artiste's arm dramatically!

[Erin magic roll: 6]

It then twists into a rather interesting silvery limb, elongated and alien-like, with large, spidery fingers coming out of the palm in several directions.

"Much better. Now, Scott," the Artiste says, turning to his minion. "You really should be more careful with food. It's really terrible when people get hurt due to something as innocent as food."

"Why, I could TELL YOU STORIES..."

[Scott will roll: 1]

Scott, however, does not pay attention, as he is too busy writhing on the ground, black foam collecting in his mouth as he experiences a brand new dimension of exciting pain.

"Ah well. Guess the binding defense mechanism will sort this out."

[Scott will roll: 1-1]

Scott, his very soul splitting into pieces at the tiniest measure of harm to the Artiste for some reason, rolls about on the ground, gibbering crazily as his very being threatens to disintegrate.

"Help him out, will you, Art?"

"Eh, I suppose. After all, wouldn't want him to die for something as minor as that."

[Art magic roll: 5]

Art stylishly points his hand at Scott and utters some words. In the next few moments, Scott feels a wave of relief as he shivers quietly on the floor. He's not dead yet, it seems.

"Still got it, baby."

"BRAVO, the SILLY BUGGER will UNLIVE YET!"

"Good show, Art. Now, where were we?"

"I do believe the Captain was discussing the state of magic in his days."

"That he was, I recall! So, let's resume."

"Ah, RIGHT! Now, WHERE WAS I? OH, I remember. MAGIC WAS FAR LESS COMMON in my day, and you DIDN'T HAVE this BLACK CIRCLE NONSENSE and whatnot. It was all ISOLATED, CRAZY BUGGERS WARPING REALITY in their own COMFORTABLE HERMIT LOG CABINS. IT WAS BEAUTIFUL! So..."

They continue their chat, paying the prone Scott no further attention.

[Tomcost]

((THe mushroom causes instant necrosis. YEAH!))
Sigmund took some steps back from the strange individual, and asked:

-Where did you send him?

[miauw62]

((I think this turn perfectly illustrates the spirit of this game.))
Kevin decides to take a stroll around town, considering the lack of other things to do and still a bit dazed.

[Xantalos]

Niklas was a clever Viking. He saw what the tricky meat choppers were doing - they were clumped together for safety! Niklas couldn't begrudge them that.
Actually, that was a lie. He did, most heavily. Fortunately, he knew how to deal with this!

Niklas takes as much as he can carry and still move reasonably fast back to the ship, then comes back and takes similar sized loads until all of it is on the boat!

Then go get the medic mage to fix my broken neck. Actually, do that on the first trip.

[Innsmothe]

"That...that...that...hurt...Sorry...sorry...sorry...I'm..."
Scott will re wrap the mushroom and remove it from the Artistes sight.

"However...it...OW...may...OH GODS WHY!?
...
..
...be...useful."

((Dammit. :c Rollplaying gets you killed.))

[killerhellhound]

Mark keeps at it after sacrificing the small fish
((on the boat trip what is everyone's guess of what I bring up from the depths))

[Innsmothe]

((Cthulhu))

[Tomcost]

((Giant squids!))

[Xantalos]

((A stick.))

[Tomcost]

((Or a boot, classical))

[Xanmyral]

[Pft-hahahahaha, I like how things just go from bad to worse with Morton.]

Morton can only say one thing after the strange scene shift. "Oh bother." Except it was rather drawn out and shouted a bit, with added touches of flailing about through what he assumes to be a free-fall. The burned butler quickly erased the mental slashing over the 'I'm in a nightmare' idea on the list of things of what happened to his livery.

His flailing however was dampened when all of the sudden things went from pitch black, to vibrant colors. Everywhere. The butler tried to both keep himself decent and protected from the winds with a mixture of the backpack and his hands, not entirely sure if he should be worried about the colors escaping from his decayed, burned body.

Morton almost didn't catch one of the colors, different from the rest it seems, talking to him. For a moment he wondered if he should be concerned with his sanity, but instead decided that sanity must be missing from this place, which he hopes is a really, really bad dream. "U-uhm... I-I apologize my g-good colorful figment, b-b-but I'm nei-ither female n-nor young. E-er... But s-salutations all the s-s-same. I-I'm afraid th-that I rather do not know-ow where I am, no. I-I apologize fo-for my indecency." Morton tried to keep his voice steady as he responded to the figment. No reason to not be polite after all, even if possibly falling to one's second death while horribly... Indecent.

[Harry Baldman]

In the streets of Shriekpot...

Sigmund, faced with a most unusual clothes vendor indeed, decides to bravely ask a reasonable question.

"Where did you send him?"

The salesman giggles darkly.

"To a far more fashionable place. They'll take good care of him. Now we just wait."

Elsewhere in Shriekpot, Kevin tries to deal with the fact that he's terribly lost by pretending that he isn't after all - he'll just wander about aimlessly for now. That'll work.

He strolls around town until he finds himself in the very Center of Shriekpot. It's a rather nice square, really. Even has a big ol' signpost pointing in several directions. Like, that way lies the temple and such, that way lies the hospital, that way lies the bank, that way lies the schoolhouse, and more!


In a slaughterhouse...

Niklas, adept at pillaging, decides to make several runs for all the wonderful goods for the slaughterhouse. Picking up an armful of tools, he walks back to the ship and dumps them in what he believes to be a safe place - the cargo hold! Though this is a largely illusory belief, it is calming nonetheless.

On that note, he visits Erin in the den.

"... and SO THEY BLEW THEM UP! ALL of them, to SMITHEREENS! Now THAT WAS IMPRESSIVE MAGIC!"

Niklas walks up to Erin and taps her on the shoulder.

"Yes? Oh my, what's happened to ya? Yer neck's broken!"

"Fix me."

"Sure, why not."

[Erin magic roll: 5]

Niklas' neck straightens out suddenly, becoming unusually metallic in the process!

"It'll be a bit difficult... well, maybe impossible is the better word, to turn now without turning around. Have a good one, though!"

Niklas shrugs, passing by Scott, who appears to be wrapping up a mushroom while mumbling something. Oh well. Niklas carries all the goods back to the ship in two subsequent runs, then gazes at his pile of ill-gotten gains.

By the gods, he could swim in that pile, it's so magnificent!


On the deck of the shrieking ship of Shriekpot...

Mark, happy about his latest bounty, tries to sacrifice the cute little fishy to Jolly Vito.

[Ritual roll: 6]

He takes the fish and begins to bleed it, drawing the requisite sigils with quite a bit of flamboyance as the fish bleeds out! Soon enough the ritual is successfully complete, and Mark feels wonderfully accomplished as the little fishy passes away, its soul going to a much, much worse place than it presently occupies.

All is good, he thinks. So, now for more fishing!

[Fishing roll: 6]

Soon enough, something bites! Once more, it is something rather large! Large enough to make the ship tilt a little as it pulls, actually.

[Mark strength vs. ? strength: 3 vs. 1+1]

Fortunately, pulling at the mast tires whatever he caught out, and he eventually pulls it out. It's some kind of strange, bulbous fish with many pseudopodia-like things probing at Mark from its skin. Certainly an unusual creature, though rather harmless on land, it seems.


In a fabulous location of some sort...

As Morton plummets through the Fab Dimension, he takes the time to answer the confused mauve thing's question.

"U-uhm... I-I apologize, my g-good colorful figment, b-b-but I'm nei-ither female n-nor young. E-er... But s-salutations all the s-s-same. I-I'm afraid th-that I rather do not know-ow where I am, no. I-I apologize fo-for my indecency."

"Ah, you're a lost old nudist, are you? And covered in burns, too! Not to mention rather dead-looking. I find your appearance offensive to say the least, fellow figment! Let's alter it!"

[Alteration roll: 1]

Morton feels a peculiar alteration as his body shifts dramatically! A peculiar twisting sensation and a feeling of being violated later, Morton suddenly realizes that he is, in fact, a desk! A colorful, beautiful desk! The feeling is curious, he must say.

"How about that? That's better, no?"

[Innsmothe]

((Are you ignoring me on purpose? :'c))

Feeling the ship tilting scott will run out on deck.

[Harry Baldman]

((Are you ignoring me on purpose? :'c))

Feeling the ship tilting scott will run out on deck.

I did include you under Niklas' action since you didn't really do much. Didn't really want to set the scene twice.

[Innsmothe]

Ah. My eyes, they are not gud >.>