Re: [IC] Dungeon Fantasy -- Gorefest Dungeon
 

"We shall return better able to take on the evil lurking within the dungeon."

With that, everyone makes their way up the stairs and out of the tomb.

The graveyard is on a hill surrounding a large church. The church overlooks the town of Garinham, a bustling sea port.

"Where will you all go now?" she asks.


OOC: Quick post. XD

Re: [IC] Dungeon Fantasy -- Gorefest Dungeon
 

"To find dinner and a Hair Growth spell," Marcy says.

Re: [IC] Dungeon Fantasy -- Gorefest Dungeon
 

Jim spends a moment squinting and blinking, eyes readjusting to the strong light of day. Then he points along the skyline, to the spike of a tower that rears up off to one side, made of black basalt and straight and smooth as a rule.

"I reckon I'm headed thataways to talk to the man 'bout how many regurgitated brains he wants to see 'bout my staff, ma'am. And maybe 'bout a few other trinkets. Shall I meet your lovely self back in the Dog and Goose when I'm done being the man about town?"

The Dog and Goose is, of course, one of the local taverns. It's not quite a dive, but the beer is good, and after sunset they serve whisky floated down from the duchy upriver.

Re: [IC] Dungeon Fantasy -- Gorefest Dungeon
 

"I should think not," she replies in quiet voice with a slightly incredulous air. "When you are done with your business at the Spire, come and see me at the abbey where I will be in prayer."

She's not at all offended at the thought of Jim offering to meet her in a tavern, and perhaps just a bit flattered at the complement. Her tone and expressions, hidden beneath her hood, however, are quite subdued.

Re: [IC] Dungeon Fantasy -- Gorefest Dungeon
 

(I didn't really want to post back to back.)

As Jim walks off going through the catalogue of places to spend his money, Let's see, there's old Ragadoc for the staff, and a potion or two, but I'm still beholden to that little snivel of a man Illidel for my spellbook due to Guild laws - and I don't even know if I want anything from Cugel, that trinket peddler... he chuckles to himself, a small wheezing sound.

Right, the Church of Felaria. Methinks the Church fathers wouldn't be terribly happy if I set foot in there again. Perhaps I'll just wait outside with a bottle of bourbon instead.

Re: [IC] Dungeon Fantasy -- Gorefest Dungeon
 

Jorin spends some of his coin for a cheap place. One ought not to attract attention. He spends most of his time watching the other patrons, watching both for those too stupid to live and those too clever.

Re: [IC] Dungeon Fantasy -- Gorefest Dungeon
 

Marcy spends the afternoon looking for a breakdancing instructor, then has dinner with his Nephew.

Re: [IC] Dungeon Fantasy -- Gorefest Dungeon
 

Jim spends the rest of the day amongst musty old tomes, gurgling beakers, and candles lit upon skulls, the wax dripping into long stalactites like thick white hair. The places he visits are each stranger than the last.

Marcy meets his strapping nephew of mixed heritage, Kuang, at the Dog and Goose, where Jim has ended his evening. Jorin is also there, having purchased one of the cheapest rooms they had available, a dark, windy attic space above the bar and inn. He sits in one of the corners, nursing his drink.

Re: [IC] Dungeon Fantasy -- Gorefest Dungeon
 

"I see you're aging well," Marcy says. Kuang's face is starting to wear the wrinkles of old age.

Kuang laughs. "We can't all afford Youth spells, Uncle."

"Careful with this lot. You might fall into a fortune whether you like it or not."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Re: [IC] Dungeon Fantasy -- Gorefest Dungeon
 

A day's hard work done, Jim sits lounging at his favorite table in The Dog and Goose, a scarred, tottery old thing with three legs that has the distinction of bearing a mostly-illegible drunkenly carved map of some place or other, a relic of former adventurers.

As he sips his foaming purple brew, he thinks to himself, Well, this is a pickle. We don't want to lose her services, and as for hiring another...we'd have the same difficulties and not be guaranteed anyone so easy on the eyes, anyhow.

A few minutes later he gets up and goes outside, drink in hand as well as a note written on fairly presentable vellum. "Here! Lad!" he calls, flagging down one of the many urchins who run the streets. "Deliver this to the Church, the one on the hill with the lady with four heads and four sets of arms. You'll be looking for a priestess named Gwaelin, she's a pretty lady about yea tall and with reddish-blonde hair. She'll be in the southern wing, where the statues of the goddess with the croesus - what's that? What's a croesus? It's a kind of stick with snakes on it. Yes, snakes. Got all that? Good, there's a good lad. Here's a copper for your trouble, and a pair of bits all for yourself - don't let your master see them. Off you go!"

This accomplished, Jim goes back inside to his favorite table again to order another drink, finish the first one, and prop his feet up, careful to keep his slippers on to avoid freaking out the natives.

The note is a respectful one requesting the priestess' presence to discuss next steps and perhaps matters of a pecuniary nature, complete with R.S.V.P., that I don't feel like writing out in full.

In case it matters (because I paid for the skill, darnit) Jim succeeds at his Writing roll by 3: 14 skill, 3d6=11