Bay 12 Games Forum

I'll find time to be outlandishly evil later, I'm still rolling in the endorphins. I've never managed to gain someone's trust/connection to this extent before. I find it quite to my liking.

"Know what, fine. Won't have no damn window to look through by the time I'm done."

Go inside the chapel and try lifting the moon window out of its frame. How heavy is it compared to my new strength?

If it starts to fall on me, pitch it away from me so I don't get hit by falling glass.

Go over to the priest.

"Oh hey, you're still alive? Wow, you're a resilient fellow. Hey listen, I know you're sorta preoccupied with recovering from being burnt to a crisp, but do you have anything priceless in your possession, or in yonder chapel? I need it for a project, you see, and taking those windows you have there seems like it'd be troublesome."

Name: Chortleton MacDigget
Gender: Man
Affinity: Sleaziness
Domain: Fortune
Skills: Charisma IV
Inventory: 1. Numerous small vials full of a disgusting-smelling gin of some sort that lends his teeth a greasy shine
2. An overly fancy pocket watch, with a cover adorned in the style of a seashell. Gold, of course.
3. A packet of foul-smelling cigars
Color: Deep Green
Description: A relatively short man, around 5'4. He has vaguely brownish hair that seems just a bit too long no matter which way you look at it, which is perpetually slicked down to cover the growing bald spot on the top of his head. Some days it works more than others. He has a large mouth and thick, wormy lips that hide a wide smile given a shine by the foul alcohol he drinks. His teeth are just yellowed enough to be off-putting, and though he grins quite often it never reaches his watery green eyes, which stay as dead as a shark's. He has a large, slim nose and a small prickly caterpillar-like moustache on his top lip - other than that his face is as bald as a baby's bottom. He's a little portly, and his fingers are thick on a stumpy hand, which always seem to be just the slightest bit sweaty. He wears a slightly shabby tweed suit in a deep green shade overlain by a brown overcoat that somehow manages to match it. When he can find one he likes to wear a bowler hat.

Despite his vague unpleasantness he seems to exude an aura of trustworthiness, and people tend to listen to what he has to say, even if they have reservations about it.

"Very well. Xan, what he said!"

"Hmm. That looks distinctly un-fun."

My preparation will finally be handy! Approach to optimal firing range and set my aim squarely on the Nega-Pilsbury Doughboy.

"Wel, you clearly just want to lie here and die. Let's go, this is getting to be that odd sort of stretched-out boring where ruinous things start happening just to alleviate it."

Off to adventure! Or wherever the closest place on the map is. John! JOOOOOOHHNNNNN! DECIDE FOR ME JOOOOHN

Heh, I've been struggling to get myself to write this one piece of fiction for a while now yet I'm pretty sure I just sat down for an hour or two and spewed out multiple thousands of words about another, more personal topic. Even my muse is telling me what I've gotta do.

Heh.