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Author Topic: Our Salvation: It Is Written  (Read 264263 times)

Harry Baldman

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Re: Our Salvation: Maybe Just Omit The Human Sacrifice
« Reply #2115 on: April 03, 2017, 07:19:48 am »

"YES!" Leif shouts beaming smile on his face and slaps young Bruce on back. "Let's do this!"

Let's retrace our steps! First for Odin or whoever, I don't even care!

[Let's Drink, Drink: 5]

You grab a jug of clan moonshine, probably some of the last still available, and down it with utter lack of hesitation, the kick of it making you very suddenly sit down. Good stuff, you shout, good stuff!

Earnest, crateful of booze still in hand, stands there for a moment before you motion for him to go around the room - Bruce takes two jugs and tries to imitate your own feat of drinking at first before realizing that maybe alcohol poisoning isn't quite what he wants to have just yet. So he decides to quaff it instead.

The elder seems quite impressed. Very good quaffing there, young Bruce! Reminds him of himself in his misspent youth! Ah, he booms, standing up to get a drink of his own, what years those were! What years indeed! He quaffs with a lot more practice, as would befit one of advanced years and extensive practice in drinking.

As Earnest goes along the rest of the room, the red-haired woman takes a drink and sips it gently to offset her headache, and soon after the man with the ball does as well, though a little more confidently. Lee refuses to have any, seemingly having had quite enough already from last night, the lamplighter has one that she drinks with practiced tolerance and pacing, sniffing her sleeve as some of it gets into her sinuses, and finally Earnest himself nervously takes one and sits down next to you, nursing it very delicately.

You lean back a little as you take another - really strong stuff, actually. The elder compliments the distillation, and you notice the red-haired woman and the blond fellow sort of murmur a bit to each other. Bruce, meanwhile, throws himself headlong into getting drunk again, trying to at least pretend to be keeping up with you.

So, the lamplighter says as she glances at Lee, who sits with arms crossed off to one side. You were... looking for something, were you? Some kind of box apparently, the elder says. Yes, Lee clarifies, a box without hinges or a lid. Mysterious in nature, unopenable. Made of brass.

So Lee got drunk and lost it, the lamplighter turns to you. Sounds about right, Bruce says! She does get pretty scattuh... scaffer... scatterbrained when she's had a few, you know what he's saying? He looks around with a smoky look in his eyes. Should get some music going! It's not a proper retracing unless there's music! And dancing! And girls, too, he looks in particular at the red-haired woman, who raises an eyebrow before scoffing at him, though makes no motion to leave just yet as she appears to have struck up a bit of a conversation with the elder about the clansmeet, the context of which you managed to sadly miss due to being a little busy with your drink and which has thus become a bit too cryptic for you to make anything of. The man with the ball seems to be content with just spinning it on top of his index finger as he drinks alone, pondering if maybe he should get some friends in here to help drink all of this wealth in moonshine.

Thomas considered the man for a moment.  He was either an excellent actor or having a seizure; either way, there was nothing to be done for him.  Oh well.

Let's talk exits; ideally one headed up.

You leave the passed-out man to his torment and look around for something resembling a proper exit.

[On The Way Up: 5]

You grab the oil lamp to light your way and look down each tunnel - most appear to lead down. One, however, hosts a spiral staircase hewn out of the bedrock itself, worn-out carvings on the steps marking it as some kind of ancient construction predating the much more crude warrens made by whoever these seizure people are. You head up it - quite a long way up as it turns out, the interior shaped a little like a funnel as the coil of the staircase grows wider and wider until you've come to the top of the pit it was spiraling down, a cracked stone vault above letting in a few rays of sunlight as you come to a dilapidated archway leading out.

What it leads out into appears to be a camp of some sort - seven circular tents made of assorted cured hides stand around the encampment, hidden in a little depression along the length of the ridge dotted with small trees and enormous bushes forming little lakes of growth that fill out what look to be a wealth of ancient ruins. Even this little clearing appears to have been made by ongoing weeks of hard work, little woody stumps marking where men and women with machetes have cleared away enough to permit easy access to the dome.

A woman pale, rotund and compact enough to be plausibly cast as Humpty Dumpty sits in front of one of the tents, busily dyeing a cloak in what seems to be a camouflage pattern, the basin swirling with oily greens and browns, a little boy with blond pigtails kneeling by her side, a story of some kind he was telling having degenerated into a great deal of expressive mouth noises, the woman smiling politely as the boy loses himself in the description. Out of the corner of her eye she spots you and gets to "have you seen my" before she realizes that she does not recognize you.

Who are you, she asks very urgently. How did you get here? The boy looks at you and waves - the woman whispers something in his ear and motions for him to go quickly before turning to you again.

Daniels bows deeply to Two Shores. "And you have my respect, that was better fought than anyone I've engaged with in my lifetime that I can remember, save perhaps for one particularly manic crackhead I ran into once in Jersey. Your pattern of motion and skill in redirecting momentum is phenomenal, and I admit I would be uncertain of victory if I engaged you in a straight fight while you had your blade. I'd love to do this again sometime - I believe we have a lot we could learn from each other," he says. "I do believe that we each have things to attend to, however, unless you wish to continue?"

Does the lady wish to fight again? If so, I'm certainly up for it, but if not, bid Shores adieu for now and go ask around to find this Big Dipper fellow.

Thank you, she says as the excitement starts to pass and a healthy flush comes over her, it was a delight to spar with you as well. Catching the thought is a lot like catching a blade, were a blade to solely consist of sharp edges. She will have to figure something out the next time you get together like this!

Oh, but do not let her keep you. She could spend all day working this out if you let her. Better to save that for a slow day in her experience, would you not agree? She should report to the captain post-haste as well. But you must promise that you will repeat this soon. She has not had this much fun in weeks.

Rainbow's head in hand, Two Shores then parts with you and goes to the door leading deeper into the captain's quarters. She looks back as an arcane mechanism begins to unfold on it, and gives you one last smile before her expression clears completely and she steps inside, disappearing from sight.

[Scanning The Night Sky: 3]

You step back off the Vault of Heavens and take a look around. There's a sailor standing off to one side, seemingly on break from whatever it is the crew of the Vault do in this town. You indicate him - you there, where is Big Dipper? You need to tell him something.

The sailor thinks. Good news or bad news?

Good, you respond.

Are you sure, he asks. The murder-thought begins to impatiently tap toward him. All right, he takes your meaning. Probably at the storehouse. Over yonder, he points at the centerpiece of the town, a trading post and its adjacent humble warehouse.

True enough, Big Dipper appears to be nesting in the office atop the trading post, currently going through some manifests over an invigorating cup of coffee, adding occasional corrections with a gleam in his eye. He shuts the manifest as you enter, his feet coming off the desk as he spins in his chair to face you and steeple his hands.

Greetings, he says with a knowing flash of white teeth. Enjoying yourself in lovely Hornsweir, yes? Been staying out of trouble?

"Well, first of all, now I want to know about the price; A wizard 'taking care of' something can mean a great many things, can it not?"
A bit impolitely put, but an excellent question nonetheless. What *do* I want?
Knowledge of magic? A gift fit for a whale? Eh, go with the former for now.

You notice the wizard's yellow eyes roll in the darkness of the sack. What he means is that he'll give you a price and you'll either take it or leave it, nothing more and nothing less. It's a bloody quests-for-things arrangement, is that clear enough for you to understand?

You wave off this line of conversation and consider what you want. Knowledge of magic seems a pretty good start.

[Wizzards Bargins: 6]

You hear a sharp intake of air as the wizard hears your request. So you're one of them types. Honestly he'd say yer a little too daft to be thinking about that sort of thing - but who is he to say no to the demands of careless youth, eh?

Tell you what! He'll be enlightening you on matters magical, mystical and downright bloody mysterious. But in return you'll hafta bring him these objects three!

Which objects three, you ask.

Hang on, he says, he wrote one of them lists. Been meaning ta get it one o' these days. He roots around beneath the counter for a few moments and comes up with something - a short scrap of parchment on which four things have been written, the fourth very messily scratched out with a quill. You read through it with a skeptical eye - the symbols take a moment to resolve before your eyes.

So he needs, you say after a moment, a hunk of graphite, a roll of sticky tape and a spool of copper wire? You catch on quicker than he'd think, the wizard nods! Maybe you'll actually manage it, eh? He'd certainly be surprised if you did!

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Toaster

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Re: Our Salvation: Maybe Just Omit The Human Sacrifice
« Reply #2116 on: April 03, 2017, 09:53:27 am »

"Hello!  My name is Thomas.  I'm trying to make my way up the ridge; where's the best way up from here?  Oh, I came up the stairs.  There's a fellow down there that seems to be a in a bad way; someone might want to check on him.  Looks like he had a fit of some kind."

Converse!
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HMR stands for Hazardous Materials Requisition, not Horrible Massive Ruination, though I can understand how one could get confused.
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AoshimaMichio

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Re: Our Salvation: Maybe Just Omit The Human Sacrifice
« Reply #2117 on: April 03, 2017, 11:29:10 am »

"I think I can handle the music part. Let's see..."

But first some minder juice for everyone. Then let's see if I can play of some music out of my head... Ah, it has been a while since this one!
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Xantalos

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Re: Our Salvation: Maybe Just Omit The Human Sacrifice
« Reply #2118 on: April 03, 2017, 03:08:45 pm »

"Well, to an extent. I almost caused a great deal of trouble, but then I turned it into good news instead. You're promoted, by the way, I killed Rainbow on account of her trying to entice me into mutiny and she was also a ghoul thing, so you got her job now or something. I assume there's someone you can talk to about that."

Daniels scratches his chin and waits for the man's response to this bit of news.
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penguinofhonor

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Re: Our Salvation: Maybe Just Omit The Human Sacrifice
« Reply #2119 on: April 04, 2017, 06:51:41 am »

"That was mostly intentional," I say to the doctor. "It might be a good idea to get out of here in case there are any after-effects."

With that, I begin leading the group towards the river so we can wash off a bit. On the way, I talk to Oggie about where we're going next. "The doctor and I were talking about El earlier, and it sounded like an interesting place to visit, but we don't have any solid plans. What is it you expect to find to the south?"
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Re: Our Salvation: Maybe Just Omit The Human Sacrifice
« Reply #2120 on: April 04, 2017, 11:25:46 am »

Well, they've invented sticky tape apparently. I wonder what else?
Go off on a mystical quest to find common household items. Maybe look in the pawn shop first, should be something interesting in there at least.
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I would ask why fire can burn two men to death without getting hot enough to burn a book, but then I read "INEXTINGUISHABLE RUNNING KAMIKAZE RADIOACTIVE FLAMING ZOMBIE" and realized that logic, reason, and physics are all occupied with crying in the corner right now.

Harry Baldman

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Re: Our Salvation: Maybe Just Omit The Human Sacrifice
« Reply #2121 on: April 04, 2017, 02:54:15 pm »

"Hello!  My name is Thomas.  I'm trying to make my way up the ridge; where's the best way up from here?  Oh, I came up the stairs.  There's a fellow down there that seems to be a in a bad way; someone might want to check on him.  Looks like he had a fit of some kind."

Converse!

Oh dear, she says with eyes wide. You're an intruder, aren't you? That's not good. That's not good at all.

[The Cavalry Has Arrived: 3]

The boy returns, three rather lean and small men trailing after him with crude spears in hand, clad head to toe in what look to be primitive ghillie suits, complete with authentic dried fragments of undergrowth. They stop a few steps away from you as the boy identifies you affably.

It takes them a moment to make you out through all of their unwieldy camouflage, but when they do they waste no time in brandishing their spears in your direction, demanding that you explain yourself. More specifically, who you are and how you got here. They also mention that you should make things easier for yourself and come quietly, lest they should need to use force in subduing you.

"I think I can handle the music part. Let's see..."

But first some minder juice for everyone. Then let's see if I can play of some music out of my head... Ah, it has been a while since this one!

[The Most Wonderful Sound: 1]

For some reason the Moths do not seem to appreciate being given your weird grapefruit mind magic. Well, Bruce does and so does the lamplighter, the former racing headlong into unconsciousness with each passing second, but the others seem altogether less enthused. Then you kick in the music - they unfortunately are even lesser fans of that, or the somewhat vivid images of odd bony creatures you begin to involuntarily conjure along with the noises.

God, what an awful racket, the man with the ball says. The elder looks on unimpressedly (he's probably more of a Korpiklaani man), and the red-haired woman places her hands over her ears and, when that completely fails to help, walks right out of the premises, with a rather displeased Lee following as she shoots a dirty look your way. The man with the ball looks very torn between the availability of liquor within the chamber and the horrible noise pervading it. Earnest looks mildly bewildered by the sound and keeps looking around for some kind of source he could maybe push away or kick over.

The lamplighter taps on your head - could you stop with the damn noise? People are trying to drink here, don't need you kicking their inner ears harder than the booze, you hear? Though, she looks over at Bruce who appears to be trying to dance and failing horrifically, she guesses this is a little funny too if you could maybe mute it in regards to her and, well, everyone except the boy from the looks of it. Can you do that with your weird mind powers?

"Well, to an extent. I almost caused a great deal of trouble, but then I turned it into good news instead. You're promoted, by the way, I killed Rainbow on account of her trying to entice me into mutiny and she was also a ghoul thing, so you got her job now or something. I assume there's someone you can talk to about that."

Daniels scratches his chin and waits for the man's response to this bit of news.

The way he grins and nods while you tell him leads you to guess he probably already knew. But the news still gratifies him to considerable degree. Well done, stranger! Who'd have thought that the strangely fortuitous minder they picked up in the town after unseating the local government would have turned out to be some kind of odd Corner-monster wearing the face of a kindly old woman?

He would, Dipper adds in a quieter voice. And they didn't listen! Demoted him for voicing perfectly reasonable suspicions and 'sowing distrust' among the crew, can you believe that? He's got a nose for these things! Always has. Shows the captain for not trusting him.

But really, thanks for being such a good sport and ripping her damn head off back there, mate. He had something cooking for that kind of thing himself, a little bit of well-timed accidental action if you know what he means. Great that things just fall into place sometimes, isn't it?

Let him treat you for a drink, the new third mate rises from his desk, procuring a bottle of exquisite spiced rum (or maybe having had it in his hand the entire time, as you don't actually notice him moving anywhere to get it) with one hand as he presents a pair of shot glasses with the other. Get yourself in good shape for the evening feast, eh?

"That was mostly intentional," I say to the doctor. "It might be a good idea to get out of here in case there are any after-effects."

With that, I begin leading the group towards the river so we can wash off a bit. On the way, I talk to Oggie about where we're going next. "The doctor and I were talking about El earlier, and it sounded like an interesting place to visit, but we don't have any solid plans. What is it you expect to find to the south?"

You head off to the river, passing briefly by the forest where your mineralized horror seems to be munching on trees very audibly, a distant treetop falling every few seconds as it tears through the interior in its raging hunger. You try to ignore it much like the gaping hole in the ground you left behind, and instead strike up a conversation with Oggie as she's got the doctor in a fireman's carry, her whiskers bristling as she still seems unused to the light.

[A Trail of Broken Spines: 1]

She scoffs at the idea of going to El. Terrible place. Unfriendly natives. Will cheat you. Or kill you. Likely both. Nobility writ large, decadent like no other. In the end, totally useless.

Huh, you say. And the south?

Also a terrible place, she shrugs. With unfriendly natives who will kill you. But these natives have many things coming to them, and to break them would at least bring joy. Not like worthless people of El. Do you see?

You stop by the shoreline. The doctor seems to have recuperated somewhat as she is being carried, and by the time you're by the riverside she's regained enough stability to wash off the grime and filth of the siege of many months. You, although much less grubby than she is, also appreciate the opportunity of removing what grime you have accumulated - you get a lot of use out of the snake soap, which lends you and the doctor an oddly reptilian scent after your round of bathing.

Oggie, for her part, is far more uneasy around the water at first. River always was strange, she says. Too dark, too deep. Too quick, too dangerous. Dragged peasants off all the time. She taps at its surface briefly and draws back, seemingly unnerved by the very concept of surface tension.

You watch the strange creature as she experiments and meanwhile chat with the doctor, relating Oggie's peculiar view on El and the south. The doctor looks concerned at this. She does admit she can think of many reasons to go south again. Check back with the College, or what's left of it at least. See what remains of the kingdom, commit it to memory. But she was also kind of hoping to avoid the stoatmen as much as possible, whereas Oggie appears to have, well, different ideas. Hopefully there's some way she can be convinced to, say, not break the neck of every random person you come across. Or at least steered into a direction where she'd have less opportunity for it.

When you look next, Oggie appears to have dived into the river fully. She's a very good swimmer as she appears to have discovered, having surprisingly little trouble with the current. By the time you and the doctor are both out, dry and dressed she's still in there, and takes a few reminders to crawl back on out, whereupon she shakes the water off her many long hairs much like a dog would.

Well, they've invented sticky tape apparently. I wonder what else?
Go off on a mystical quest to find common household items. Maybe look in the pawn shop first, should be something interesting in there at least.

The wizard gives you a two-fingered salute as you head on out of his curious store and walk across the street to the pawnbroker's establishment, its windows still bright and gleaming as you step in through the glazed door that opens as you approach.

[A Place To Lose Yourself: 1]

Within is not quite what you would have expected - the interior is a mishmash of heightening arcades and staircases in marble, all lit in a seemingly sourceless, all-encompassing hard light, and in the distance bits of the shop do not darken, but instead seem to disappear in a distant white haze. The place is as much a shop as it is a showroom, a collection of assembled junk from throughout the ages held in suspended silence, a museum of things greatly valued, but not quite valuable enough, all the things lost for a fraction of their true worth. There are harpsichords and books, collections of curious insects and geodes of scintillating colors, amulets and necklaces and even a jeweled skull or two. Rows upon rows of displays stretch every which way, even along staircases and sometimes on the ceilings.

The geometry of the place grows increasingly unlikely as you proceed deeper in and the arcades show no sign of abating - at one point you are walking along what you thought was a small underpass beneath a wall, but when you look up you see a display holding a bone-handled sacrificial knife you swear you passed by a couple minutes ago, back when it wasn't stuck on the ceiling. Spatial uncertainty washes over you as you glance around with no end in sight, and you feel as if you were in an Escher print - viewed on a screen in some bizarre future by something outside your perception, at the same time the subject of judgment and an earnest attempt to understand.

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Toaster

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Re: Our Salvation: Maybe Just Omit The Human Sacrifice
« Reply #2122 on: April 04, 2017, 05:39:28 pm »

((Looks like we all rolled for crap this turn))

"Er.  Well.  My name is Thomas Minstep, an insurance agent.  I was climbing the ridge on my way to Elizabeth, and there was a dreadful rockslide or two.  Found myself stuck on a ledge, where there a cavern leading inward.  I tried it out, there may have been another rockslide, and I found myself in a room in your caverns.  I took the stairs out and here I am.  I don't mean to intrude; if you point me in the right direction I'll be on my way."

Stand and explain; make no moves, aggressive or otherwise.
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HMR stands for Hazardous Materials Requisition, not Horrible Massive Ruination, though I can understand how one could get confused.
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AoshimaMichio

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Re: Our Salvation: Maybe Just Omit The Human Sacrifice
« Reply #2123 on: April 04, 2017, 11:00:56 pm »

((3, 1, 1, 1. Pretty crappy indeed.))

"I suck at music." Stop the music. "But I love music, so why would I suck at it?" Ponder about this mismatch of love and ability. Drink my sorrows away. And try to remember why we are drinking in first place.
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Xantalos

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Re: Our Salvation: Maybe Just Omit The Human Sacrifice
« Reply #2124 on: April 05, 2017, 01:58:58 am »

Daniels chuckles. "I've never been one to refuse a gift when it's offered."

Yeah, why not, have a few drinks with the guy. Emphasis on 'a few', don't let myself get anything past moderately buzzed as far as drunkness goes. Offer the excuse of 'I have to corral Rainbow's apprentices soon' if he objects to my moderation. Being drunk around minders seems like a bad idea, no matter how alien my subconscious is.
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Re: Our Salvation: Maybe Just Omit The Human Sacrifice
« Reply #2125 on: April 05, 2017, 03:46:45 pm »

Stop, close eyes, deep breath, open eyes. When this inevitably fails to resolve confusion, shrug it off and have a closer look at any available books.
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I would ask why fire can burn two men to death without getting hot enough to burn a book, but then I read "INEXTINGUISHABLE RUNNING KAMIKAZE RADIOACTIVE FLAMING ZOMBIE" and realized that logic, reason, and physics are all occupied with crying in the corner right now.

penguinofhonor

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Re: Our Salvation: Maybe Just Omit The Human Sacrifice
« Reply #2126 on: April 06, 2017, 08:17:49 am »

I approach Oggie and attempt to introduce some strategy into her plan "Hey, so I've been thinking about the best way to take revenge on the stoatmen. I wandered that way... two days ago, I think? Maybe three. Anyway, all I saw were unimportant commoners and footsoldiers. It'll probably be tempting to take your vengeance out on them, but I think we'd only draw attention to ourselves. If we wait to find someone important before we start any violence, I think we could do a lot more damage and stop the stoats from doing the same thing to anyone else."
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Harry Baldman

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Re: Our Salvation: Maybe Just Omit The Human Sacrifice
« Reply #2127 on: April 07, 2017, 03:01:31 pm »

"Er.  Well.  My name is Thomas Minstep, an insurance agent.  I was climbing the ridge on my way to Elizabeth, and there was a dreadful rockslide or two.  Found myself stuck on a ledge, where there a cavern leading inward.  I tried it out, there may have been another rockslide, and I found myself in a room in your caverns.  I took the stairs out and here I am.  I don't mean to intrude; if you point me in the right direction I'll be on my way."

Stand and explain; make no moves, aggressive or otherwise.

[How Did I Get Here: 4]

You took the stairs, the sharpest one of the three camouflaged fellows says. The ones over yonder, he points at the tunnel.

You nod amiably - is there some kind of problem? The fellow motions with his head for one of his assistants to head down and check. There is a muttering as they take a bit to agree on the exact chain of command here, and eventually the sharper one just goes down himself, leaving you up here under the guard of his two ghillie-suited associates.

You attempt to make conversation over the next couple minutes, but the remaining two only point their spears at you when you do. The woman ambles off urgently, and the boy follows, looking back at you and waving as he walks off without a care in the world.

The third man comes back. He stares at you with an expression of horror on his face. What did you do, he asks. What did you do?

It's like you said, you begin, you were climbing the ridge on your way to Elizabeth and there was a dreadful rockslide or two, and then you-

What happened to them, he yells at you and you begin to realize he's probably meaning this rhetorically. The other two look at him very worriedly. What did you do, he continues to shout, clutching his spear to his chest in a white-knuckled grip, seemingly more for his own protection than as a threat to you.

Maybe he needs to lie down, one of his associates says. Er, better take him to his tent, the other one suggests and starts leading the panicked man away.

The sole remaining guard turns to you. Right, he says. This hasn't happened before, strictly speaking, at least not on his own shift, but he's pretty sure you're going back down the cliff that you came up by. By any means necessary, he says and brandishes his spear menacingly.

"I suck at music." Stop the music. "But I love music, so why would I suck at it?" Ponder about this mismatch of love and ability. Drink my sorrows away. And try to remember why we are drinking in first place.

You kill the music and a breath of relief washes over most of the room. An atmosphere of merriment, however, does not return as the man with the ball quietly contemplates as to whether this cave moonshine wouldn't serve his friends better than it would you.

[The Party's Tired Now: 5]

As the stillborn festivities drag on and Bruce continues to dance even without any kind of music to accompany him, you sit there and drink. He's got a certain drunken mesmerism to his movements, you gotta hand it to the boy. Sloppy, but he's got a good deal of spirits in him so it doesn't matter. The lamplighter urges him on periodically, chuckling to herself as she watches him make a complete mess of himself. The elder messes around with his robe for a moment and pulls out a little chunk of what looks like solid pitch, popping it into his mouth and starting to chew it resolutely as he watches young Bruce with faint amusement.

You get the weird feeling that there was something you were supposed to be doing, you say as you down another round of hard liquor. The lamplighter looks your way. You were looking for something, she's pretty sure. Yeah, Earnest says on your other side, the little guy said something about, uh... a box, right?

Right, you shout and suddenly get up. There was that! It's all coming back to you!

There was some kind of party planned to find it, Earnest continues to relate from memory, and getting drunk was apparently a, er, vital part of the investigation according to the dancing guy. Wait, he says with a sudden look of disappointed realization, does that make this a search party?

Bruce bursts into sudden laughter, but is otherwise of absolutely no help.

The lamplighter furrows her brow. So you were... retracing your steps... to check where you might have lost this box thing. Sounds like it, Earnest says, though maybe you should have got a little less drunk before, you know, starting to investigate. Nonsense, the lamplighter retorts, if anything there's not been enough alcohol to make sense of this.

You didn't lose it, you correct. Lee did. After you entrusted it to her, too!

Is that why she looks different, Earnest asks. She did look, er, out of sorts. Plus she was wearing... somebody else's robe, he notes with a bit of sadness. The lamplighter hoots with laughter. Hah! She always thought there was a beast in that girl, let her tell you. Something in the eyes, you know! The kind of girl you get a few drinks into and then anything can happen.

Heheheh, she continues. Shame she can't really remember much of last night. She'd pay to see our Lee getting down with her bad self. The few bits and pieces left in her mind are downright tantalizing.

Daniels chuckles. "I've never been one to refuse a gift when it's offered."

Yeah, why not, have a few drinks with the guy. Emphasis on 'a few', don't let myself get anything past moderately buzzed as far as drunkness goes. Offer the excuse of 'I have to corral Rainbow's apprentices soon' if he objects to my moderation. Being drunk around minders seems like a bad idea, no matter how alien my subconscious is.

He's not exactly offering you to get completely shitfaced with him, more just a few toasts - to excellent decisions, to good judgment, to the Vault and her delightful captain! A more beautiful bastard to spend the century with he surely could not name.

The rum, as you've come to expect from most of the things in the sailors' possession, is really quite great. Probably ranks among the best you've ever had, and after you've had a few you feel a nice warmth build up in you.

Dipper, pleased as he is, takes a moment to inquire about how you've been finding the Vault - you answer in a friendly, but not overly informative fashion as the two of you while away the time in the office. He's missed home, you know. El really is quite something else. Every time you think you've seen what it has to offer, it goes and changes up on you again. To the land of the eternal spring, resting on the shore of a missing sea. El, where flowers bud forever, and all fruits ripen as you pluck them! Dipper raises his glass one last time, and you have one for the road before he excuses himself (you're a little glad after the fact, the rum he's got is the kind that you can't help but want to come back to).

In any case, you both head out of the office lightly buzzed and quite cheery, and Dipper locks the door leading in before bidding you adieu - got the final preparations to make for the farewell feast, and they'll leave on the morrow! He laughs to the skies and heads down the main street whistling before disappearing down a side passage a little unsteadily.

You scratch your head. Suppose you should find the minder apprentices.

[Last Orders: 3]

You go over to check where you last saw them, which is to say on that roof that they were standing on apparently until further notice. You are pleased when two of them are still there, trying their hardest to balance there and not pay attention to their surroundings. Seems like they're not informed. Probably somebody thought it would be funnier that way.

Stop, close eyes, deep breath, open eyes. When this inevitably fails to resolve confusion, shrug it off and have a closer look at any available books.

[Fair Brokerage: 3]

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. A gentle, moist breeze rises up around you, leaving a faint chill as you open your eyes and find that things have remained nominally the same.

Which is to say that you happen to still be in the same pawn shop, albeit now there are two rows of display cases, one on either side of you, running either way as far as the eye can see. Each display case, though clearly large enough to hold something up to and including the size of a halberd, appears to contain exactly one book.

[Literature For The Masses: 3]

The titles, you figure from walking along the rows for a bit, appear to be quite eclectic. "Old, Unhappy, Terrible Things: A Rank Amateur's Primer On Advanced Necromancy" (pressed in gold leaf upon a human leather binding), "The Collected Works Of The Regrettably Short-Lived Publishing House Of Their Shining Scales Gleaming In The Midday Sun" (filling the entire cover of something no thicker than a comic book in a large font), "The Miraculous Musical Masterpieces Of Master Grumble And Where Exactly He Found Them" (bits of sheet music tucked between mismatched pages of a three-ring binder) and "My Diary" (author sadly unnamed) are but a few of them, and they only seem to get increasingly obscure, but also strangely more elaborate as you walk along the aisle.

I approach Oggie and attempt to introduce some strategy into her plan "Hey, so I've been thinking about the best way to take revenge on the stoatmen. I wandered that way... two days ago, I think? Maybe three. Anyway, all I saw were unimportant commoners and footsoldiers. It'll probably be tempting to take your vengeance out on them, but I think we'd only draw attention to ourselves. If we wait to find someone important before we start any violence, I think we could do a lot more damage and stop the stoats from doing the same thing to anyone else."

[Delay For Maximum Effect: 3]

Unimportant, you say? Good, Oggie responds. Unimportant ones no one will miss. Good practice, too.

But she sees what you mean. She will leave a few alive. There is no time to get them all. Must get to important places. Have more important people to break.

You look at the doctor as you come to this sort of agreement. She gives you a tentative thumbs up, hoping you'll maybe return the gesture.

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Xantalos

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Re: Our Salvation: Maybe Just Omit The Human Sacrifice
« Reply #2128 on: April 07, 2017, 03:30:59 pm »

Daniels grins. Time to have a bit of (nonlethal) fun.

Jump up onto the roof and cheerily inform them that they now effectively belong to me. If/when one or more of them clues into the fact that they shouldn't pry into my mind uninvited, inform them of the rather silly way their former master got herself decapitated, and how thusly by Two Shores' decree they're now mine to follow me around and such.

Make sure I'm not too close to the edge of the roof before I start talking.
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AoshimaMichio

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Re: Our Salvation: Maybe Just Omit The Human Sacrifice
« Reply #2129 on: April 07, 2017, 03:32:08 pm »

"Someone else's robe?! Oh my!" Leif feigns his suprise. "By the way, what's the thing about wearing someone else's robe? And I agree on not enough alcohol part. Especially Lee should have drank more if we are going to do this retracking steps thing properly. Perhaps..." Leif stops to ponder whether he should use DRINK on Lee or not. "Hmm, no. That would be Bad Idea, I think. Entertaining yes, but bad."

Does Earnest have a thing for Lee? Competition, damn it! Ah, but back to the tracks; somebody took the box and is not willing to return it. Why? Because they want it. Why? Because I'm not leaving without it. Someone doesn't want me leaving. Why? Does someone have a thing for me? Goodness, the culprit must be either Lee or the lamplighter (whose name I still don't know)! Secret admirer! Dramatic revelation!
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