"This fucking crate!"
Use my wagon summoning powers to summon a small exploding doom wagon and place it next to the crate, then get me and the station wagon out of the warehouse and get behind some cover, then explode the small exploding doom wagon and hope my friend to all wagons ability protects me from its explosion.
(Wagon summoning roll 43%=68%)
You summon as hard as you can, but it seems like exploding doom wagons aren't particularly populous in this area, and none come a-calling.
Read.
(Reading roll=47%+10% Focus Tea Bonus=57%+43% from previous. Book Complete!)
Your focus bolstered by the Reinforce Focus Tea, you continue reading Why No One Talks About The Mountain of Dusk Anymore.
The book continues on, saying that some, of a more conspiratorial bent, contribute the death of these authors to supposed secret societies such as The Society of the Hidden Rebirth or The Guild of the Boundless Lotus. Most of these allegations come from an organization called the Truth Revolters, which was believed to have only had one member, as no one has heard anything from them ever since Slass Spintbog, author of The Secrets of the Mountain of Dusk and the Truth Revolters' only known member, died.
Since all those authors of Mountain of Dusk literature died, most universities have expressly forbid their members from writing anything on the subject. Some believe this is simply to avoid having to arrange funeral services and replacement for their staff, but others posit that this could be due to sinister influence by the supposed secret societies.
Also, most publishers have refused to publish anything about the subject, likely for similar reasons to the universities.
Of, some have suggested a much less gruesome, more mundane reason why no one talks about the Mountain of Dusk anymore, and that is simply that, nothing new or interesting really happens on the mountain these days. Outside of a few local festivals, it's actually kind of boring.
You complete the book, and, for the first time in a while, then don't immediately start on a new one.
Fucking finally
>Collect the meat and shell bits. Someone's going to need 20 bear asses anyways. Continue hunting turtles until I get 300 golden pennies
Equipped: Silenced AWP (7/10 FMJ)
Ammunition:
5x 10-round sniper mags (FMJ)
Other items:
Nothing
Currency:
50 golden pennies
(Long-range combat roll 72%=46% Success!)
Beachgoers look on in horror as a skittlemorph covered in rain turtle viscera scoops up bits of its freshly-killed corpse, then takes aim at another one, hitting it for (6d6 Bullet damage=17) seventeen bullet damage (17 Bullet=45%-23% Unvitality bonus=22% Still Conscious), wounding it.
The rain turtle, for its part, starts gathering up rain magic in retaliation.
Al and Bartholomew went to go look for the other people inclined to search for the elixir. Apparently they needed some non-corpse related currency as they were not inclined to go into some shady back-alley ice cream stand at this particular moment.
The standtender continues, "Yeah, it's all part of a ritual a bunch of city governments started having done a while back. Supposed to help cut down on murder. Really just on cuts down on the type of murder that has intent toward robbery, and doesn't really do much for any other kind of thievery.
"Also, I hear that some criminal types still take it and use it in the Black Market, then launder it somehow, so it really only cuts down on petty robbery-involved murder. But the point is that I have no use for the stuff."
You wander off, as this man clearly has no intention to take your money, and are so preoccupied with getting away from this man that you don't notice yourself accidentally bumping into a Smoke Cyclops.
"Sorry about that," he says. "Hey, you wouldn't happen to be able to get me away from here, would you? I got mixed up in an arranged marriage that I'd really like to avoid.
The name's Sponcy, by the way. Sponcy Bronsmire."