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[Tomcost]

(Perhaps you can add some blood to the tea, rather then drinking from a barrel like a common uncouth vampire?)

((You, fool! Sigmund will drink from the barrel in a crystal glass! Well, he will ask Erin for one, possibly.))

[Xantalos]

((Whoops.))

Wander around aimlessly.

[Xanmyral]

[Blood in tea, now I've heard everything.]

If Morton had the ability to, he'd be beaming now. "Glad to hear I've made a convert, good mage Erin, and I'm quite glad you enjoy it too. Say, have you seen good jester Kev... In..." And now he would be looking utterly horrified and disgusted.

"O-oh dear."

His stunned silence didn't last long though. Under less severe circumstances, Morton would be very worried about his rapid desensitization to these things. "Wh-what happened, who was this poor soul, and, Gods above, what are you doing good sir Sigmund?!"

[Tomcost]

-I'm trying to salvage something out of this body. Mark definitely hasn't got tact, at all,  when it comes to his surgery skill.

[Harry Baldman]

On the deck of the Second Shank...

Morton is glad that Erin seems to be gradually accepting the true light of civilized life, tea, as her one and only beverage of choice. Granted, it might take a little while before she makes that exact declaration, but still...

"Glad to hear I've made a convert, good mage Erin, and I'm quite glad you enjoy it too. Say, have you seen good jester Kev... In..." he begins, but then his eye is drawn to the barrel placed in the middle of the deck that has two legs sticking out of it. "O-oh dear."

Sigmund isn't sure what the big deal is here. Can't a man drain people of their blood without being judged?

"Justine, I think that you have spent more time with Mark than me, and that you have already seen what Mark can do. And what he already did with me once, too. So I don't know why you appear to be so concerned about that."

"As usual, you think wrong. And I am quite concerned because this person embodies within himself and his acts a departure from humanity of such atypical wrongness that it took me until this moment to realize their dark, terrible scope."

Pshaw, what a naysayer.

"Wh-what happened, who was this poor soul, and, Gods above, what are you doing good sir Sigmund?!"

"I'm trying to salvage something out of this body. Mark definitely hasn't got tact, at all, when it comes to his surgery skill."

Having said that, Sigmund turns to his buddy Mark, who appears to be busy enjoying the wonderful feeling of a fresh coat of blood warming up his cold metal bones.

"What is true, indeed, is that you could have made all this less disgusting. At least we could have taken him to the cargo hold, where you could have worked alone, and you could have spared us from this sight. So, why don't we go there?"

He puts his single arm to use and, along with Mark, is about to take the barrel downstairs, but then Scott appears, carrying a mug of tea with a bag slightly sticking out of it. He initially looks at Sigmund hopefully, but Sigmund has just the right answer to the likes of him ready.

"We are busy here, can't you see? Anyway, vampirism doesn't let you drink anything but blood. So find somebody else to test your tea shenanigans," he lies confidently, immediately disappearing downstairs with Mark. Scott is unamused, but continues in his quest, walking up to Morton and Erin. Morton seems a little too distraught to help him, while Erin looks to be sipping some tea of her own. Scott gives her the mug, which she accepts cautiously, smelling it first, then taking a sip.

"Hm... it's... not really as good, yeah. A bit too strong. And missing something, I think," she says, grimacing, then handing Scott his mug back.

Well, Scott did go a little light on the sugar, as he couldn't find any. That might be a problem.

Downstairs, meanwhile, Sigmund evaluates if the drunkard's bled his share into the barrel. After a brief look reveals that he is leaking very minor amounts of blood now, he takes a moment to search the fellow. He is somewhat surprised when he locates a sizable hidden pocket on the person - it seems to have a flask of dark liquid of some kind inside it. For some reason, Sigmund finds the sight of it inexplicably alluring. Aside from a copper coin that fell out of his pocket and into the blood, he has nothing else on him.


In the streets of Shriekpot...

Niklas, feeling that the people following him need no undue attention directed at them, wanders about aimlessly along the streets, keeping to crowded areas. The dudes just keep following him along.

"I do not like the look of those people. They seem to be scum of the earth. Perhaps you should tell them to obtain better pastimes than gawking at you."

"Who are you, anyway? You look like one of those funny tree men."

"Shush, Torkel. Don't pester the fellow."

Elsewhere in Shriekpot, Kevin finally walks out of Gunther Gunnarson's place, with Gunther trailing behind him.

"It looks like you're working fine now. Guess I've earned my gold coin, eh?"

Kevin has to admit, having metal bones feels really cool.

[Innsmothe]

Go forth and find the powdered gift from the gods that is refined beet/cane sugar!

[Tomcost]

((Dark liquid? Maybe a kind of drug?))

Ignore the liquid, roll up my sleeves and get that coin. Then lick it, without going into a blood frenzy.

Sigmund then waits a bit more until the drunkard stops bleeding, and says to Mark:

-So, Mark, are you ready to fix me? I just want to have an arm attached to me, so don't try anything weird. I think that your stuff should be somewhere around this place.

[Action in case KHH doesn't post]

Get Mark to fix my arm. With his surgery equipement

[miauw62]

See if I actually brought the money.

[Harry Baldman]

See if I actually brought the money.

Let's say you did. I remember something like that.

[miauw62]

"Big thanks for patching me up. I'll recommend you if I ever return here again, since apparently I'm leaving on a cruise across the Sea of Death."

[Harry Baldman]

"Big thanks for patching me up. I'll recommend you if I ever return here again, since apparently I'm leaving on a cruise across the Sea of Death."

"Ooh. That's pretty dangerous. You'll probably need every bone I gave you for that place. And it was my pleasure. I love working on constructs, particularly when they've got weird anatomies. Gives me ideas for when a mage will finally commission my work or something."

((Dark liquid? Maybe a kind of drug?))

I actually kind of messed up there, I meant a flask of dark liquid. The hidden pocket isn't simply full of gunk.

[miauw62]

"See you later, hopefully."
Head back to the ship.

[Tomcost]

Then loot also that flask

[Xanmyral]

Morton watched Scott head off, then looked at the blood splotch on the deck of the ship, questioning why exactly he's here, and why he's sharing a ship with blatant murderers. ...Okay, true, the butler had conspired to attempt to poison some guards, but they brutally maimed and distressed his friends. Perhaps the man in the barrel was someone vile who had paid evil to them? The desk chose to accept this rationalization in light of the alternative.

"Well, I suppose that was... Eventful. I thought sir Sigmund despised blood but... Surgeon Mark appears to be up and around again, although as to where good jester Kevin presides is still in question." The desk turned away from the spilled blood and back to Erin and Justine. "Good mage Erin, could I perhaps ask a request? Retrieving chief Niklas has unfortunately ruined my old tea pot, but I've managed to find another. It's quite diminutive however, could you perhaps expand it? I understand if you have better things to do however, it quite suffices.

[Harry Baldman]

On the deck of the Second Shank...

Scott, knowing what must be done now, casts a wily eye over the nearby area. He sees a whole bunch of barrels, sacks and other such containment contrivances lying about - clearly, he will have to open them to see what's inside! He wanders off the ship and starts rooting through all these unattended supplies.

First barrel - sauerkraut. Second - lemons of second-grade freshness. Third - more sauerkraut. Fourth - yet more sauerkraut. There sure is a lot of that stuff here. Maybe the sacks will have more of what he wants. He chews one open and runs his finger through it. Grain. Two others contain much the same. Hm. He wanders over to a nearby ship, slinking along the shadows until he reaches an interesting-looking barrel. It's full of a yellow semi-liquid. Scott, not one to judge unduly, submerges a finger in the stuff, then pulls it out and has a taste.

It's honey! Cool!

Back on deck, Morton tries to cajole Erin into providing a new teapot for him.

"Well, I suppose that was... Eventful. I thought sir Sigmund despised blood but... Surgeon Mark appears to be up and around again, although as to where good jester Kevin presides is still in question. Good mage Erin, could I perhaps ask a request? Retrieving chief Niklas has unfortunately ruined my old tea pot, but I've managed to find another. It's quite diminutive however, could you perhaps expand it? I understand if you have better things to do however, it quite suffices.

"Oh, sure," Erin says, taking another sip and looking at an empty patch of air.

[Erin's magic roll: 6]

Suddenly, the air seems to implode at a single point, coalescing into a large metallic pot - somewhat bigger than Morton expected, certainly, and a bit too large to carry around comfortably - it definitely won't fit in his drawer, but he thinks he could set it on his surface, though this would probably be poor form in most social situations. It's a solid black teapot, looking very sleek and professional as it lands softly on the deck.

"Does that work?"

Just then, Kevin reappears on deck, having gotten himself fully repaired and not having paid a single coin to Gunther for it. He wonders if he should. Maybe he should just open up a tab there for next time.


In the cargo hold of the Second Shank...

Sigmund, knowing he'll probably need that copper coin, if only to place on somebody's eye, reaches into the barrel and grabs it, then licks all the blood off it. It's not too good as far as blood goes. A bit too alcohol-saturated, and not quite as rich as that of the guards. But good to have nevertheless. He also takes the flask of liquid, perhaps to find out what it might actually be later. He then watches as the last bits of blood trickle out of the drunkard, a lovely pastime for one such as him. When it's done, he pesters Mark.

"So, Mark, are you ready to fix me? I just want to have an arm attached to me, so don't try anything weird. I think that your stuff should be somewhere around this place."

Mark shrugs as well as he can, which is not too well, all things considered, and gets right to work, picking up his surgical tools.

[Mark's medicine roll: 4+1]

He neatly cuts off the drunkard's arm and attaches it to Sigmund's stump - a rather straightforward operation devoid of any unforeseen strokes of inspiration. Guess Mark worked that out of his system when he popped that dude's head off, huh?