At an unusually hateful tree...
Sigmund decides to help Morton as the tree just keeps staring with the utmost hatred. He grabs the undead butler and tries to take him away!
[Grab: Tree vs. Sigmund: 5 vs. 1]
However, he is slightly surprised when the tree's branches wrap around his torso and lift him up from his feet! He feels rather odd in the spot that the tree's grabbed him by, as though something's changing, and not for the better!
Morton, meanwhile, mutters as he lies hated on the ground.
"O-oh d-dear that i-is one angry t-tree. H-how can a t-tree be so a-angry?"
He's starting to get a bit used to being hated, though, weird though that may sound. It still feels peculiar, but not as soul-crushing as before. Um... good?
On the shrieking ship of Shriekpot...
Kevin, now possessed of a slightly greater desire to urgently resolve his skeletal issues, points at his lack of arms with his skull.
"Hm, ya look pretty messed up! I'd advise ya to relax for a bit. I'll take a break, then I'll attend to ya. Maybe have lunch, ya know."
Hm. This is not the best news he has heard today.
Mark, meanwhile, takes out the Special Writing Companion and sketches out a message on the deck in front of the Artiste with it.
Can I have some more money for body enhancing goods like the the Shaper's Limb for 5 gold that can change shape by the owner willing it or the Fleshvine that makes someone very strong, hard to hurt, and they get powerful regenration with more made over time at the cost of 10 gold, 9 with a corpse trade in or 8 gold for a live test subject
"Hm, that's a lot of coins, Mark. Not to mention that it would set a poor precedent if I was to just throw money around like that. I think I'll make an executive decision and say 'no' to that. You should start earning your own money. It builds character, you see."
While the fruitful discussions commence, Scott goes on to look for some hideously drunk people to give sludge to. Fortunately, this is a port town - no shortage of drunken sailors here. He walks up to one.
"Excuse me, sir, but would you mind participating in a taste test of a certain foreign liqueur? It is a delicacy in some parts of the world! Possibly not entirely terrible as well."
The sailor looks at the jar of sludge suspiciously, smells it, then sips a little. He looks incredibly sad and disappointed all of a sudden.
"Sir, this is disgusting sludge that contains no booze whatsoever. You should be ashamed of yourself. Good night."
He hands the jar back to Sigmund and leaves.
On a wet and miserable plain...
Darren, seeing that his clever disguise is unlikely to work, tells the golem to sit tight, though it's more for his own sake than for the animated telekinetic puppet's, then floats discreetly over to the hillfort.
He is immediately noticed by a guard on one of the walls, who fires his bow at him.
[Watchman vs. Darren: 2+1 vs. 3]
Darren reflexively dodges the arrow, though there's really no need - it certainly doesn't look magical, he'd say. He then vamooses out of the area before the guy can fire again. Such an unfortunate savage, this fellow. Firing on harmless strangers like Darren.
In the kitchen of the Feisty Jelly...
Niklas, not really feeling that there's anything wrong with this plan of his, resolves to try again. It's flawless in theory, after all.
However, he appears to have run out of booze. And the drunkard's still not out yet. It's a bit strange, but what are you gonna do?
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Topic: Life Begins At Death - Epilogue: We Live And Live Again (Read 542952 times)