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[Innsmothe]

See if there is anyone observing the ship for prolonged periods or a series of attempts at discretely eying the ship.

[miauw62]

"I can't really remember much... The guards did mention that he probably doesn't live here. And since he went to the Ulubelle a lot, maybe they lied to us about his name?"

[Tomcost]

"I can't really remember much... The guards did mention that he probably doesn't live here. And since he went to the Ulubelle a lot, maybe they lied to us about his name?"

-Probably, considering the huge amount of scammers in this town, we were given the wrong name. Anyway, he probably would had spent all his ill-gotten money by this time. And vengance is not particularly my style, it's more like Niklas' one.

((I wanted you to make a description roll, but, well, it doesn't matter. Any ideas on what to do while we wait until Mark gets fixed?))
EDIT if there is nothing to do:

Sigmund had an idea to pass the time: Maybe he could get into necromancy. That book hadn't soul-enslaving spells anyway, so it wouldn't be that bad. But he didn't know really how to begin, only that the book needed to be binded. He asked to his master an Justine:

-If I wanted to make a focus, what should I do to attune it to me?

[Spinal_Taper]

Well. This is spooky. And this is coming from a ghost.

"Oh, I'd love to. Lead on."

[Xanmyral]

"...Oh dear." Morton simply stated, a little shocked at the news. His mind briefly entertained the idea that maybe it was some other being made of chairs, but shook that silly idea out. "Do you know where I can find said street? If that truly was my friend, I think... I need to see it. I thank you kind sir for your time and answers, and I'll be sure to direct anyone looking for spellbooks your way."

The desk's voice was noticeably more somber than before, more precise and polite than the previously cordial tone it carried. Did Niklas die? What of the others? Did they maybe die too...? While Morton wouldn't ascribe Niklas as being the most grounded of individuals he's met, he still called him his friend, having worked with him for a while under Master Yaleson.

[Harry Baldman]

Right next to what may be a helpful individual...

Niklas makes a proposition, hoping to get a new body out of it.

"Good! As you can see, right now I'm a pile of something. I don't even know how I'm talking right now, honestly. Anyway, would you mind giving me a body I can be proud of as a Viking? I'm an incredible chef, so I can make it up to you, and you won't even lose any body parts in the cooking process!"

"Sure. No food, though."

The man points his hand at Niklas, and the latter promptly becomes a squirrel. A shockingly ordinary squirrel. It feels surprisingly good, actually, though he does feel rather exposed all of a sudden. Maybe it'd be a little safer in a tree?

"What have you done?" Helsvar asks, visibly distressed.

"I have made him complete," the man says. The sheath of prismatic smoke grows thicker around him, taking on the appearance of a thick fog. The fog then lifts, leaving nothing behind.


In the crow's nest of the Second Shank...

Scott casts his eye about the docks, looking for interlopers sizing up what is very nearly his ship.

Minutes later, he has spotted several shifty types nearby, one gazing at the Second Shank from a nearby ship, one standing on a roof and pretending to work while really watching, and a possibly fake beggar who seems to be staring right at the Artiste at all times.

This is not good.


Slightly lower down...

Sigmund realizes that there's one thing these schmucks could be helpful with - magic! They both have it, so they must have had some method of getting it, obviously.

"If I wanted to make a focus, what should I do to attune it to me?"

"If you make a focus, you don't need to attune it to yourself, since you made it and all."

"Sounds reasonable. And consistent with what I can get from the other guy's memories."

"Attunement is what you do when you've got somebody else's focus, which usually means you killed or merely robbed the person who previously had it. It's not as good as making a focus yourself, especially for beginners, who are bad enough at magic that they don't really need any more interference from their focus. Better make a focus yourself in that case. It's pretty dangerous, but it's really just getting into the right frame of mind to bend reality, then focusing that into an object. Or yourself, but that has unpredictable, usually messy results. Try writing out a spell or something on a piece of paper, then practice with that - it's what I did, and it's not too difficult to get minor magic that way. Of course, you can still explode your brain if you screw up too badly, but that's a very real risk for all mages who haven't passed a certain point. Regardless of which happens to you, it's bound to be interesting."


In one of the cul-de-sacs of the City of the Dead...

Darren, seeing how he may already be in peril, sees no reason not to dig himself a deeper hole while he's at it.

"Oh, I'd love to. Lead on."

"Oh, I can't. I move along different roads than you do, regrettably. The house is right over there, though, go right in. I'll be there in a moment," the mouth-hand explains as the eye-hand points at a particular polyhedral residence, not too large or opulent, at least not in Darren's opinion, then both slink into the ground, a metal plate sliding over the hole in the ground it came from and went back inside of.


Beneath Wallyn's store...

Morton doesn't like the sound of these news. In fact, they sound downright bad.

"... Oh dear."

After a pause, he continues.

"Do you know where I can find said street? If that truly was my friend, I think... I need to see it. I thank you, kind sir, for your time and answers, and I'll be sure to direct anyone looking for spellbooks your way."

"Thanks! The street was not too far from here - get over to Cooper Street from here, go back toward the center a little, then take a left at the vaguely phallic statue and head down the street until you see a great patch of melted and solidified stone - I don't think you'll be able to miss it. Maybe there'll still be a fire or two to show the way - in that case, follow the smoke if you're still confused."

Wallyn then shrugs, looking apologetic.

"They say it was a vicious murderer or something, though, so maybe it's not the same one? You don't seem like the type to consort with people who kill officers of the law and all that."

[Xantalos]

Disappointing.
...
Too bad there's no nuts around here.

Look around for food. Squirrels get hungry fast.

[Tomcost]

-I see. Hmm, I think that I will give it a shot. Any advice on just making a focus?


After the advise, go and look for a piece of paper and writing implements.

[Xantalos]

-I see. Hmm, I think that I will give it a shot. Any advice on just making a focus?


After the advise, go and look for a piece of paper and writing implements.

((Shouting doesn't work ))

[Harry Baldman]

-I see. Hmm, I think that I will give it a shot. Any advice on just making a focus?

"Try chanting nonsense to yourself, get it deeply ingrained. Then think real hard. It'll be difficult for you, but I'm sure you'll manage it."

[Tomcost]

-So, it is basically concentration?

Default to looking for those writing implements whenever there is a turn.

[Innsmothe]

Inform the Captain and the Artiste about these belligerents, and warn them to prepare for use of offensive forces against the lowlifes.

[Spinal_Taper]

"And here we go..."
Head on in. It's adventurin' time,

[Xanmyral]

"I don't believe I am, I surely hope not. But how many other beings made of chairs are there in this city? I fear it's most likely him... And that doesn't bode well for the other two; I'm afraid to say. I worked with him for a good while under the employ of a kind master, it wouldn't well to not at least send my regards at his place of passing. I'm afraid I don't believe I have any other question, nor money to buy anything, so I'll leave before wasting any more of your time. I wish you well, and hopefully if we meet again it will be a happier time."

The desk relayed to the store owner somberly, giving a short bow, unable to bow any other way, and made his way to where Niklas expired, following Wallyn's directions.

[Harry Baldman]

In Helsvar's village...

Niklas, disappointed with his transformation, tries to find food, realizing that he could probably eat a horse right now, his pint-sized body be damned. He scurries down the dirt paths of the village, looking for some sustenance for a poor, downtrodden squirrel. He darts from shadow to shadow, making sure to avoid any hungry-looking children, and finally comes to a tree.

It's an oak, taller than any of the puny structures in the village, stretching upward and sideways. To Niklas, it looks more massive than anything he's ever seen before. There's also another thing about it, though. It has more acorns on it than he could ever dream to eat in a single season.

"You're going to live in the Great Old One, dad? That would be awesome!"


On the deck of the Second Shank...

Sigmund asks a quick follow-up question to Justine.

"So, it is basically concentration?"

"Yeah, but deadlier if you screw up. Generally, the less powerful the magic you want to get - small spells, tiny alterations, very little information obtained - the less hurt you are when you screw it all to hell and back."

Sigmund, brimming with this new information, runs off to find vendor trash, namely a piece of paper and a writing implement. Luckily, the den has both in quite ample supply - sheets of paper and sticks of graphite encased in wood, that is. Wonder why.

While he does that, Scott urgently slides down the mast, approaching the Artiste.

"There are people watching us, filthy belligerents, no doubt. Be on your guard."

"Oh, they probably have a good reason to be watching us."

"Like the fact that you're a hideous monster who will destroy all that is well and good in the world?"

"Like that, yes."

Scott has no time for this banter, so he rushes off to find the Captain - well, shambles off, at any rate. The Captain's nowhere to be seen, though.

Maybe they've already got him? Oh dear.


In a calm suburb of the engineers' quarter of the City of the Dead...

Darren, knowing that there's no fun to be had if you avoid horrible danger, floats toward the house, phasing through the door and finding himself in what looks like a fountain room. That is to say that it's a large room with fountains.

Suddenly, one of the fountains begins to shift, splitting slowly into three parts, yet not spilling a drop of water in the process. It reconfigures itself, leaving behind a large hole in the floor. Before Darren can react to this process, a pair of hands comes out of it again. This time, they look a little different. The fingers are longer, and each of the hands has an extra thumb, bringing the total up to three for each hand. The eyes on one hand focus on Darren, each reminding him of some close-up drawings of insects he recalls seeing once in a naturalist's collection, and a feminine voice speaks to him.

"Oh! Hello! I am sorry, but are you a guest, or do you have business here?"


Beneath Wallyn's shop...

Morton is quite somber now as he speaks to Wallyn.

"I don't believe I am, I surely hope not. But how many other beings made of chairs are there in this city? I fear it's most likely him... And that doesn't bode well for the other two; I'm afraid to say. I worked with him for a good while under the employ of a kind master, it wouldn't well to not at least send my regards at his place of passing. I'm afraid I don't believe I have any other question, nor money to buy anything, so I'll leave before wasting any more of your time. I wish you well, and hopefully if we meet again it will be a happier time."

"Oh, time is never wasted if you spend it to meet new people. Good seeing you two! Don't be strangers, now, and remember - you need magic, you come here, and I'll set you right up!"

Morton, after taking a short bow (though he can only manage about half of one with a frame as rigid as what he's got), exits back into the alley, and Art follows him over to the location described by Wallyn, remembering to turn left at the vaguely phallic statue and follow the smoke - there is quite a bit of that in the air.

When they get there, they see an interesting scene. The street is empty, as are the nearby houses, and there is a sort of scar, about six meters in diameter, smack-dab in the middle of the cobbled path. It radiates unbelievable amounts of heat, and looks really hazardous, to be honest. There's a white-hot bit of metal lying in the middle of it is presumably what Wallyn was talking about.

There's pretty much no way to tell if it's actually Niklas, though.

"That's definitely a dramatic way to dispose of someone," Art notes.