At Tailor Craig's traveling garment enterprise...
Sigmund, rather concerned about Morton and being all too familiar with the sense of being violently dismembered, goes up to the desk and asks how he's feeling.
"Was it as terrible as it seemed? I don't think that it can get any worse, but I don't know how exactly do you feel things. We will find a carpenter for you, Morton, but if you want to get hands, asking Erin would be better, I think. We will go to the ship once the mages are awake. Maybe, meanwhile, we can continue our little experimentation with the mushrooms."
Morton seems to be less than okay, but at least not horribly, terribly traumatized.
"...I can indeed exclaim that I feel pain in this form, that much has been made present to me indeed. It rather felt like my eye got ripped out, although until rather recently I couldn't exactly say what that might've felt like. I... I can't quite see as well out of that 'eye' either now. Er, suppose I didn't tell you but I can see out of these knobs on the drawers I believe. It may've been damaged, but I can't exactly see myself. Besides that, I don't believe anything else got injured, Good Sir Sigmund, as I can still manipulate the drawer as well I could before, I'm fine now, I think. Ah yes, the mushro... shroom. That was in my livery. Which... which disappeared. ...I'm afraid it might be misplaced, Good Sir Sigmund. We also still have the matter of trying to find Good Jester Kevin, he still hasn't appeared..."
"Your new physiology is indeed interesting. I'm glad to hear that there is no danger."
Sigmund takes a look at the knob. It's one of those crystal knobs, very shiny. Though after taking a closer look, Sigmund notices a peculiar milkiness about it in comparison to the other drawer knobs. He blows on it, and Morton wobbles a little bit involuntarily. Hm, it does seem to be a fully functional, slightly more durable eye, if a bit less clear than one might hope.
"I don't know at which extent this could be something positive or negative. About that mushroom, well, there are others. I can go and gather another while we wait for Kevin."
"Indeed Good Sir Sigmund, it still confuses me at times and I've much to learn about it if I'm to stay like this for a while. I recall Good Tailor Craig however mentioning that it would be unwise for a mage who can change objects to try to change my present form however, I wouldn't wish to put Good Mage Erin in danger in such a way. If you wish to gather another mushroom, I fear I may slow you down however in my present form, I'm not sure how fast I can safely walk like thus."
"I doubt that Erin isn't the best suited person to treat something as delicate as your current condition."
"If Erin's the transmuter, it would be better for her to stay well away from your friend - for a transmuter to be able to alter the structure and composition of something with a material focus, said structure must first be known, and you need to know how exactly it differs from what you need to get at the end - that's why transmuters place such an emphasis on material sciences. And if she has a spellbook, that still means she can only work with certain materials included. And you, I'm afraid, are made of just about the rarest, most poorly understood materials around. As is your friend. It's not even matter from this realm, it's something else entirely."
Ah. Hm.
"Nevertheless, a carpenter would be a sensible second option. If you feel that you will indeed slow me, I shall go alone, it's not a difficult task. You will stay here in case Kevin shows up?"
"I suppose so, good Sir Sigmund, I just wouldn't want to place friends in harm for my own sake," Morton replies, then pauses, becoming awfully aware of himself suddenly. "I'm sorry if I'm rather chatty in this form Good Sir Sigmund, but without the ability to make expressions or gestures I can't exactly be as laconic as I was before. I'm alright with waiting for Kevin in case he shows up, which I hope is soon. Be careful on the trek back."
Sigmund shrugs and turns to Craig.
"So, your business can prosper, it seems. About the cloth, I've made a decision: I want the red one. You are the expert in those kind of things, after all."
Craig nods, grabbing a rather large roll of soft, thick, dark red cloth from the back of his loyal, extremely bored donkey and handing it to his much-appreciated schmuck recruitment officer. Sigmund, receiving his cloth, goes back to the Yaleson house. He finds a massive mushroom grove formed around the still-burning hate-fire. What's funny is that the trees around the fire have died, but the mushrooms appear to thrive. Oh well. Guess he'll retrieve one anyway. He pokes one of the tinier outlying mushrooms and pokes it, but finds that he can't exactly get close to it without disturbing some of the larger, more mature ones.
In the crew quarters of the shrieking ship of Shriekpot...
Niklas tries to quickly crawl over to Erin's door before Mark snaps out of his stumped state.
[Niklas movement roll: 6-2]
[Mark movement roll: 2+1]
He manages to get to the door, pounding on it desperately as he hears the telltale metal clanging of approaching malpractice come from the stairway!
"I'M STILL PARALYZED AND HAVE ONE LEG CHEWED OFF! ALSO MY SPINE IS BROKEN IN 2 DIFFERENT PLACES!"
The door slowly opens, Erin's head poking outside again. She looks to be losing her patience.
[Erin magic roll: 1-1]
Suddenly, the body of Niklas, implements of butchery included, vanishes in the air, leaving but a helmeted head behind on the ground.
"... I'll get back to ya... later," she says, yawning loudly and closing the door behind her.
[Niklas will roll: 3]
Being bodiless is surprisingly unpleasant, Niklas finds! Or is it the fact that all of his carefully-collected tools are now part of the awfully metallic, fleshy air in the hallway? Or is it the fact that he's been seized by an even greater butcher and violator of basic human decency than himself? Or is it the fact that... wait, what's treeface doing?
[Mark medicine roll: 2+1]
Mark, still not feeling quite in the groove, attaches Niklas' head sideways to the pseudo-catfish body. That looks like it might work, yeah. Temporarily. If he doesn't move too much.
In a filthy flophouse...
Scott, seeing Red-Chested Elron before him, bravely asks a question.
"Did you partake or associate yourself with the group pretending to be part of the crew of the Mage ship in the dock to take gold from stupid out-of-towners? If not, where can I find them? I happen to have a job and will pay well for information."
"Oh, I know who you're looking for. You're looking for Purple Pete Petersen. I can tell you where he is, but it'll cost you ten coppers."
A shakedown, huh?
At a cabin in the woods...
Kevin, not terribly trusting of people who readily invite him into their homes, decides to... try and speak, rather than remain mute for no reason! Vocal folds, get ready to be exercised!
"Eh, hello? Is anyone there?" he asks, his voice having a very ethereal, otherworldly, crystalline quality to it.
"Yeah, yeah, come right in!" comes an incredibly nasal male voice from within the quaint cabin. "I'll be right with you!"