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Bluefire [IC][R-16]


Ren✧

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"The book, please?" Reebus demanded, holding out his paw.

 

"It's already in the guild's shared inventory." Cass replied nonchalantly. "If you would stop thinking about yourself for a second or two you would have noticed that." She thought, but just gave the khepura a half-smile instead. The guild couldn't afford to waste time on the two of them squabbling. 

 

"I've never actually been to Niska, and have always wanted to see the ocean for myself." Melethil said, taking the last spot in the group bound for the docks. 

 

"You can keep on wanting. I have business with the dwarf. You can stare at the water some other time." Girasol contradicted, her glare cowing the cleric. Cass thought she spotted a look of defiance glint suspiciously behind the elf's eyes, but he did not say anything. 

 

Cass paused a moment more to see if Girasol's demand would require her third party mediation, but as silence fell over the guild, their respective missions became set in stone. 

 

"That means you're with me." Cass said, gesturing towards Melethil. The elf nodded sheepishly in response, seemingly clear on his new directive. "Let's get to it then!" 

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They established that they would meet up at the entrance to Niska after their respective tasks had been completed. Cass felt anxious about splitting up the guild, due to their limited ability to communicate over distances, but she was loathe to waste any time. If there was one thing that Cass wanted above all else, it was to get out of Bluefire. Even she was willing to take a few risks to get that accomplished. 

 

Cass led her group into town, the other splitting off to visit the docks. All around them people hurried by, vendors called out to them, and the smell of cooking food permeated the air. This was the chaos of the market district. Close to the docks, the market district had something for everyone. Weapons. Potions. Armor. Food. Herbs. And more trinkets than any player could ever hold in their inventory. Cass kept a watchful eye on anyone that got to close to her, or the rest of the group. The market district was infamous for its stealthy pickpocket. NPCs and players alike found refuge in the shadows between stalls and preyed upon loose purses. 

 

On their ride to Niska, Cass had scoured the message board for the city. Bluefire was designed for hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of players to be on at once, so their was an abundance of possible guild houses open to rent. However, in Niska pickings tended to be a litter scarcer. It was a popular place. The coastal city had all the amenities a guild would need to be comfortable and the weather to match. However, Cass had found a couple of spaces still available for rent. 

 

She led Melethil, Chloé, Stacks, and Do'jhera out of the market district into a slightly more quiet area. The dining district was filled with restaurants and bars, Niska had plenty of each. Scattered throughout the dining district were several stores and places of entertainment, but they were never far from a plate of food or a tankard of ale. The Niskan guard was more visible in this sector of the city. Down by the vendors' stalls, they tended to blend in with the crowd, but here their platoons of white and blue were easier to distinguish. This was where Cass had found a possible lease for Ithaca.

 

On the edge of the dining district were a few, slightly less impressive buildings. The Drowned Maiden looked a bit neglected. Its sign, depicting a scantily clad woman in a half full tankard, hung crooked on the storefront. The wood was stained and eaten away in some places, but despite its appearance the bar looked to be fairly popular. Next to it was a large building, made entirely of wood. It was in better shape than the neighboring pub, but didn't appear as though anyone had ventured into the stilted house in years. 

 

"There she is." Cass said, referring to Ithaca's future guild house. She led the group up a set of creaking stairs; they all held dutifully, despite any of their hesitations. Walking up to the door, Cass tapped on it, bringing up a digital display in front of the woodwork. 

 

Purchase [The House of Nekyia] ?

 

[YES]  [NO]

 

The guild's collective crescent bank had more than enough to rent out the property for awhile. Cass had chosen this house both because it was affordable and because it was out of the way. Ithaca was a small guild, they wouldn't be able to handle rival guilds harassing them. Plus, if they were stationed in Niska they would have quick access to any sea transport that they desired. However, when Cass confirmed the purchase, the deed to the property did not appear in the guild's inventory like it was supposed to. Instead, a new mission presented itself. 

 

New Quest Started:

House of the Dead

Current Objective:

• Speak to the barkeep at The Drowned Maiden

[or]

• Break into the house

 

"Son of a b****." Cass cursed. Could nothing be easy?

 

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The docks were a cacophony of crewmen and travelers, alike. Amidst all the chaos, Reebus headed the small group of guild members. They were on the look out for anyone willing to give them passage to Tafi'i. Like the market, the docks was full of cheats and thievery. However, the biggest crime here tended to be the price gouging of passage from the mainland to the island. It was a fast and easy trip, but if a player was not careful they could end up paying an arm and a leg for it. 

 

"Ferry to Tafi'i leaving soon! Ferry to Tafi'i leaving soon!" The call rang out above the noise, obviously catching the attention of the guild. Pushing their way through the crowd, the group came to stand in front of a beautifully dark woman. Piercings coated her ears and jingled quietly across her eyebrow. Her right eye was covered by an eyepatch and an crossbow hung at her side. The name that hung above her head, if one were to view her through the HUD, was Flora Burn. A grey dot sat beside her name, marking her as an NPC. 

 

"If you want to go to Tafi'i, best board soon. We're almost full." Her voice was a bit gravelly, hoarse from having to shout above the noise. "It'll be 300 crescents per person."

 

"Oi! D'nt be listenin' tuh 'er," A kind faced gentlemen interrupted. "Sh'd cut ya purse op'n just as soon as sh'd cut ya throat." A dark expression crossed Flora's face, her anger obvious. 

 

"Mind your own business, Hizir. They came to me first!" Flora spat at the broad-shouldered ginger. Clearly, they were no fans of one another. 

 

Hizir chuckled softly. "Fiery as eva'," he said, wiping the spit out of his beard,"butchya don't scare meh." Despite the fact that Hizir towered over Flora, it was difficult to say who was more intimidating. "'Ow 'bout we giv'em a choice? They c'n ride ye dingy ferry fuh 300 a head or I c'n sail th'm across in meh ship fuh 'alf that." Hizir turned to the guild members. "What'll it be?"


[spoiler=OoC]

Thanks for your patience! We are moving again! Both groups have a decision to make. The results of which will influence the events to follow. Choose wisely~

 

 

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All the while as Do'jhera followed Cass, he did his best to keep his eyes away from the vendors and those who passed by them. He knew sooner or later he would be noticed and probably confronted, but he found it best to at least do his best to prolong that scenario the best he could. Truth be told, he just didn't have the heart to be completely honest with Cass and the others about his past in this game...not yet...

 

"There she is."

 

Finally they arrived at the place that Cass was looking for. It was stilted and it much better shape than the pub, the Drowned Maiden. He knew of the pub, as that was one of the places he tended to go for a good meal...well, a good meal when he didn't want to cook. Nevertheless, he followed Cass and the others up the creaking stairs.

 

"It's not a bad place, Cass..." Do'jhera spoke, looking around at the size and space of the outside of the building. "It's got enough room for the guild and it's pretty high up...heh, bet Girasol would be happy for that part."

 

As the group got towards the door, the Khepura watched Cass touch the door to proceed the buying process. However...

 

New Quest Started:

House of the Dead

Current Objective:

• Speak to the barkeep at The Drowned Maiden

[or]

• Break into the house

 

"Son of a b****."

 

Do'jhera saw the quest appear and he sighed heavily. It was going so well and so easy...guess the luck of Usaris just wasn't on their side this time. Nevertheless, he rubbed the back of his neck and then cleared his throat. "So, we have two options? Wanna just head towards the Drowned Maiden and talk to the barkeep?" he asked cautiously. "I-I mean...it's probably easier to do that than just break into this place and have no clue what we're up against..."

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"You can keep on wanting." Melethil's eyes turned, looking straight at Girasol who had said that. That was kind of rude, wasn't it? "I have business with the dwarf. You can stare at the water some other time."
 
You little funker...
 
"That means you're with me." Melethil's attention turned itself away from Girasol, toward the guildmaster Cass. Melethil nodded, opting to not speak up after having that trip to the docks snatched from under his nose. "Let's get to it then!"
 
"Y-Yes, ma'am!"



The city of Niska, even when it wasn't the docks, was quite a sight to behold. While Haruka still felt bitter about Girasol's little hijacking, Melethil on the other hand was stoked. A merchant city, the perfect place for him to make a quick buck selling his old relics. He was more than willing to share his profits with Ithaca of course, with a generous 90-10 split. After all, if Melethil was doing all the work selling them, giving 10% of his profits to the guild was virtually saint-like, wasn't it? As Cass and the rest of the group approached the place that would become their new guild house, Melethil scoped out the area around it. A tavern nearby. Perfect. Drunks were easy customers. There was tons of money to be made here. Melethil could practically smell it.

 

However, his mental image for where he could set up shop shattered as a new quest started.
 

New Quest Started: House of the Dead

 

"Son of a jabroni."

 

"So, we have two options? Wanna just head towards the Drowned Maiden and talk to the barkeep? I-I mean...it's probably easier to do that than just break into this place and have no clue what we're up against..."

 

"I agree with Do'jhera," Melethil nodded. "If that's where the quest is pointing us, there must be information to be had. That, a-and, I'd like to see what the customers at the Drowned Maiden are like. That i-is to say, if we're in Niska, I should try to turn a profit where I can, right?"


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Girasol

"You can keep on wanting. I have business with the dwarf. You can stare at the water some other time."

Her tone was icy as Girasol stared Melethil down, daring the little elf to grow a spine in response. It wasn’t like he would, of course. The kid pretty obviously had ulterior motives for going to the docks; so while Girasol had her own, she wasn’t going to let him beat her out. She challenged him to call her bluff, but apparently he didn’t. Sullenly relenting, Melethil parted the groups split in half, Cass leading one half to their new appointments, and Reebus the other to the docks.

Good. If your intents aren’t virtuous, best not speak them at all. Despite getting her requisite mug of beer at the inn after the fight. she’d slept no more than a few hours total over the course of their week’s journey to Niska. And her race historically didn’t like the heat. If that made Girasol cranky, so be it. The rest of Ithaca could suffer her wrath.

“Speaking of business…”

Girasol slipped over to the dwarf’s side as they walked to the docks, expertly sidestepping passersby while nudging him in the ribs—hard enough to get his full attention. “You’ll need to help me with that sidearm at some point. As we had previously discussed. I believe you owe me a bit for saving your hide in that Bane fight.” That wasn’t entirely untrue, but the faun wasn’t just calling in a favor. Truthfully, there was something about Brando’s daredevil attitude that she appreciated. She tried to communicate this in her tone: a slight upturn on the last sentence, to indicate she wasn’t entirely serious.

As they got to the piers, her hand slipped a bit tighter over her ammo belt and weapon. Girasol had been robbed as a fresh faced newbie in Niska, no more than 12 hours after starting the game. It was down in these very same docks, too. She knew better now, but something about the two sea captains now bickering for her attention rubbed her the wrong way.

“Well,” Girasol said plainly, “it’s the guild’s money we’re spending. So you all decide amongst yourself. But I’m not putting up a penny more if we exceed budget. I know some among us took enough loot from the last mission to cover the difference if we need to.” The last comment was pointed with a glower at Reebus. God, she couldn’t escape the damn cat even if she tried.

“And for what it’s worth,” she continued, addressing the NPCs, “I don’t trust either of you. Besides price, neither of you have given us a convincing reason why we should ignore your… friend here.”

She raised an eyebrow and stepped back. The ball was in everyone else’s court… metaphorically speaking, she hoped. And then there was going to be the issue of deciphering the book. While Kim Sujin considered herself to be somewhat of a linguist, Bluefire’s rules of language were a whole other ballgame entirely. (What was with the ball metaphors today?)

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Stacks4Daze

BGM:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WMSnWaQz_ao

 

Stacks paid little attention to who was going where with each party, after she had made her decision. However, she took note of Chloe joining herself and Cass, which brought a feeling of relief to Stacks. After the events of the week previous, Stacks had felt a much more protective instinct over the less experienced or combat-oriented party members of their guild. Chloe had the class to work with in combat, but she needed the experience. Hopefully they got the chance to work in some training at some point.

 

Melethil expressed interest in the library group, but was shut down very quickly by Girasol. Melethil almost seemed to sulk over to their side.

 

"Aw cheer up, squirt," Stacks said cheerfully, patting Melethil on the back hard enough that the small elf stumbled forward from the force. "At least now you and Do' get to go shoe-shopping with the ladies~"

 

The four of them went down the crowded streets, passing by several merchants and stands along the way. Stacks seemed to stroll along with an easy-going attitude, using the height of her character, her armor, and the way she rested her arms on her sheathed sword balanced on her back like a yolk as a way of butting through the crowd. Along the way, she received a few glares for her rude way of charging through the crowd, but she cared little for that. Truth be told, Stacks wasn't relaxed at all walking down the street; the image of the assassins still stuck in her head. Stacks had a hard time not keeping her eyes peeled and glancing through the crowd for any of them that may be hiding.

 

Eventually they came across the building the Cass had chosen as their new headquarters. The building was a large, wooden, stilted house. By no means was it impressive in anyone's eyes, but it was at least big enough to house them all.

 

"Boy, you sure know how to pick 'em, boss," Stacks snorted sarcastically. Just then, the group of them was given a quest notification for the "House of the Dead".

 

"It's not a bad place, Cass..." Do'jhera spoke, looking around at the size and space of the outside of the building. "It's got enough room for the guild and it's pretty high up...heh, bet Girasol would be happy for that part."

 

"Son of a jabroni," Cass cursed at the notification. They had some clean-up duty to do.

 

Stacks only laughed. "Buddy! This reminds me a lot of an old anime I used to watch! Too bad it never got a third season, though."

 

They were given two options on entry: Talking to the barkeep, or breaking in.

 

"So, we have two options? Wanna just head towards the Drowned Maiden and talk to the barkeep?" he asked cautiously. "I-I mean...it's probably easier to do that than just break into this place and have no clue what we're up against..."

 

"I say we bust our way in. It'd be faster and how hard could it be to replace a door?" Stacks offered.

 

"I agree with Do'jhera," Melethil nodded. "If that's where the quest is pointing us, there must be information to be had. That, a-and, I'd like to see what the customers at the Drowned Maiden are like. That i-is to say, if we're in Niska, I should try to turn a profit where I can, right?"

 

"Tch," Stacks scoffed, crossing her arms. "You guys are no fun. Fine, let's go to the bar. Just one thing: If the monsters in there are low enough level, I say we let Chloe and Do' do most of the ass kicking. I'd probably just set the place on fire, and those two need the experience the most anyways."

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After arriving on the docks, Brando was refreshed by the atmosphere.  The sea salt in the air, and the rambunctious and overzealous NPCs looking to ferry others out to sea were exciting to him.  There were many matters of business to be had today, and Brando was sure to be at the rear of these events, to keep himself out of trouble.  And then there was the unneeded reminder that he owed his guild mates some repairs.

 

“You’ll need to help me with that sidearm at some point. As we had previously discussed. I believe you owe me a bit for saving your hide in that Bane fight.” 

 

"Aye, Ms Girasol," Brando said, trying to show respect.  "I've not forgotten.  You find me a suitable workshop, 'n I'll rightly do the rest.  Yer weapon'll be good as new," he said, with his eyes forwards.  While Girasol played her expression on the matter up with kindness, Brando--and Macy--couldn't get the nagging feeling out of the back of their heads that they were still very much so disliked after having driven the guild to fight Bane in the first place.  Each time Brando and Macy were reminded of this, their mood was downed, no matter how chipper they felt.  It was a heavy thought, and this was just grasping at the surface.  Brando had every intention of at least trying to make things right by repairing guild weapons.  However, he wasn't going to fool himself into thinking that would suffice.  That is to say, he wasn't going to pretend that he wouldn't be scowled at once his work was completed and everyone's gear was returned.  He had no reason to believe otherwise.  It was best to keep himself distant, know his place, and not to make nice with the people he dared to trust.  He'd may as well just be an NPC, hired at the guild's will.

 

Shifting his attention off of the topic, there were now two NPC's in particular that were now important to this half of the Ithacan guild.  One male and one dark female.  The female, Flora Burn, seemed to be a fairly experienced sailor at a glance.  Her look was rugged, but the air about her was confident, if a bit dark.  It was though her time at sea had given her a long, filling life, even if some of its breaking waves scarred her.

 

The gentleman, Hzir, was quick to interrupt and badger at Flora's contest for the Ithacan guild's business.  He challenged that Flora was untrustworthy, and likely to swindle if not murder them outright.  But Brando had a few questions for either of them.

 

"Now hang on there," he said, standing slightly behind and beside Reebus.  "How long have the two o' a ya been at sea?" he asked first.

 

Flora responded first.  "Too long," she said, almost seeming as though she'd been defeated in a long, drawn out battle with the sea.  "But it's all I know."

 

Hzir answered quickly, and matter-of-factly.  "S’nce th’ day I was born. Be’n sailin’ these waters fuh nearly 30 years now."

 
Brando nodded, but then focused his attention on Hzir.  "Right, right, I see.  But, 'm feelin' curious, ya see."  Brando hoisted up his britches, and further addressed Hzir.  "Seems like ya both work pretty hard.  Why hustle for half the price of n' already cheap ferry?"
 
Hzir seemed sure in his response, as he belted it out.  "Truth be told. I’d do just ‘bout ‘nythin’ to keep good folks like ya selves away fr’m ‘er."
 
Brando frowned, stepping back a bit.  "Ya seem pretty sure she's a nasty person.  Makes me wonder just how much ya know," he stated.  "I'm simply voicin' my opinion.  I'm feelin' more trust in Ms. Burn here.  'Course the final decision is up to you, Mr. Reebus," Brando said.  He had no intention of interjecting at any point after this, less he be addressed directly.
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The docks were exceptionally noise, although he had to admit that the atmosphere was a bit relaxing despite of this. He could hear Girasol and Boom talking about... something. He wasn't really paying attention, as it wasn't any of his business. He turned to Reebus, not having any actual desire to talk to the cat. Instead, he simple walked along in silence, ignoring all of the NPCs on their way. 

 

"Ferry to Tafi'i leaving soon! Ferry to Tafi'i leaving soon!" A voice cried, somehow above the rest of the white noise in the docks. The NPC, Flora Burn, was offering just what the guild was looking for. However, she was interrupted by another NPC, who was offering a ride for half the price. He listened in as his other guildmates talked to the NPCs, before glancing at them himself. He couldn't help but find himself in favor of Hizir - something about the way he talked and presented himself made him feel more honest to him. Plus, it was cheaper. To his surprise, Boom seemed to favor Flora. Not for the worst reason, his logic made sense. Still, he couldn't help but interject his own opinion.

 

"I dunno." He said slowly, shrugging. "Sure, 300 a person doesn't sound like a lot at first, but that sheet adds up. Plus..." He turned to Flora. "Why would we pay twice as much for a ride? Especially when this gentlemen back there seems to have his reasons to distrust her." He turned back to Hizir before she had time to respond. "Not that I fully trust you either. Nothing personal, of course." He turned back to Reebus. "Ultimately though, it's up to our wise leader over here." His voice was loaded with sarcasm, as he patted Reebus' shoulder. "I'm sure our good friend Reebus here will make the correct choice." 

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"It's already in the guild's shared inventory."

 

Reebus' gut sank at the sudden realization.  He had forgotten that such a thing even existed...being in a guild was so strange to him.  Not to mention that nothing ever was put in there...people liked to keep their greedy little hands on everything they got.  Instead, Reebus responded to Cass' weak smile, with his own toothy grin and a faint eye twitch.  However, he would've still appreciated being hand a physical copy to hold...instead he would have to deal with a bunch of 0's and 1's making the real transaction.  

 

"I suppose we'll be off then."  Reebus purred, as his hodgepodge group made their way towards the docks.  Upon arrival, two npc's stood their, advertising their services as clear as day.  The scarier one seemed to be charging a hefty sum, while the shorter guy said he'd do it for half of the cost, slandering his competition.  Reebus put a claw up to his chin, and rubbed it.  Something seemed fishy, and it wasn't the market next door.  

 

"Ya seem pretty sure she's a nasty person.  Makes me wonder just how much ya know," he stated.  "I'm simply voicin' my opinion.  I'm feelin' more trust in Ms. Burn here.  'Course the final decision is up to you, Mr. Reebus,"

 

"Ultimately though, it's up to our wise leader over here."

 

"Indecisive individuals tend to be my least favorite..."  Reebus growled aloud.  "You could have both shared an actual vote.  Democracy is the only way to live in these kinds of situations after all.  Are your skeleton's the only one's that can grow spines around here, Lich?  Nyohohohohoho."  Reebus cleared his throat, before making his mindset clear.  "We shall be riding with Flora."  Reebus continued to rub his chin.  "The fact that her asking price is twice as much as yours, despite you being right here in direct competition with her, makes it seem that we will enjoy a safer passage than we would aboard your vessel.  Quality of life, a band of hired mercenaries sworn to protect the occupants, whatever it may be, she has a reason to charge that amount."  Reebus then aimed his vision towards Nhir.  "Your practices in advertising, slander.  They are the lowest of the low.  Shameful.  Disgusting. It is no wonder why you must do so to get even a single customer."  Reebus turned to Flora with a smug smile on his face.  "We're in your care...I just hope Cass doesn't mind me grabbing from the Guild Bank for excess expenses!  Nyohohohoho."  

 

Reebus laughed, but conversing with NPC's in this world was certainly strange.  They weren't real...they couldn't be, so why did Reebus treat them like actual people.  Scratch that...it's better not to treat them like actual people...NPC's weren't that incompetent in nature.  

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"Stay close, now," Cass warned, leading the way as she plunged headfirst into the mass of vendors, sell-swords, fishermen, and sailors that filled the city streets.

 

No need to tell Chloé twice! The girl fell into step behind the Oracle, trying to simultaneously keep her eyes on Cass' shoulders while also managing to take in all of the dazzling sights surrounding her. Weapons, potions, armor... It seemed like one could spend days and days shopping in Niska and still not see everything that was for sale! Still, now wasn't the time to dawdle and gawk like a tourist. There would be time for that later.

 

The group finally came to a halt on the edge of the city's dining district in front of a large house, perched precariously on wooden stilts, only a few feet away from a rather battered-looking pub known as The Drowned Maiden. Accessing her HUD, Chloé watched curiously as Cass pulled up the digital display linked to the property, apparently known as "The House of Neykia," and attempted to confirm the purchase. Unfortunately, however, it would appear that their new home wasn't for sale—at least, not quite yet.

 

"House of the Dead?" Chloé murmured, her lips tracing the title of the guild's newest mission. "I don't like the sound of that..."

 

She wasn't the only one struck by a sudden sense of unease—Do'jhera and Melethil didn't take long to voice their concern, opting to speak to the barkeep of The Drowned Maiden rather than risk breaking into the building. True to form, Stacks' first reaction was to go in guns-blazing, but she eventually let herself be convinced by the others.

 

"Tch! You guys are no fun. Fine, let's go to the bar. Just one thing: if the monsters in there are low enough level, I say we let Chloé and Do' do most of the ass-kicking. I'd probably just set the place on fire, and those two need the experience the most anyways."

 

Monsters? Ass-kicking? Did all of Bluefire's quests resolve around killing things? Couldn't they ever just... negotiate, or something?

 

 

"I agree," Chloé added, speaking up at last. "There's no harm in exploring all of our options, right? Let's give The Drowned Maiden a try."

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Cass nodded along to Stacks sentiment. She didn't want to take the time to sit around and shoot the breeze with a bunch of drunks. She was ready to blast down the door and fight whatever came their way. But, logically, the others were right. It made more sense to gather intel first. Just because this seemed like a simple quest didn't mean that there wasn't something nasty waiting on the other side of the door. As much as Cass was loathe to waste time, she didn't want to put the guild in a position that could get them killed.

 

"There's no harm in exploring all of our options, right? Let's give The Drowned Maiden a try."

 
"Back down the steps." Cass said, jokingly feigning defeat.
 
Stepping beneath the crooked sign, the inside of The Drowned Maiden was just as downtrodden as the exterior. However, the place was packed. Despite the fact that it was still fairly early in the day, nearly every table was full and the air was pregnant with laughter. Cass raised her nose at the heavy stench of body odor and ale mingling with just the slightest hint of mildew. However, the yellow lamps gave the bar a cheerful glow and it was impossible not get sucked in by its charm. 
 
Behind the bar was a woman with a sly grin. Her hair was a pale shade of blonde, and despite the fact that she was being stared at by nearly a dozen men as though she were prey she did not carry with her the slightest air of unease. She briefly looked up and noticed the guild members who had walked in, giving them a soft wink before returning her attention to a customer whom was begging for refill, despite the fact that he had hardly taken a sip from his glass. 
 
Cass took a moment to look about the room. If they were going to gather intel, they were going to do it right. Near the fireplace there was an older gentleman wearing a green cloak, as far as the guild leader could tell he was an NPC as well. He seemed to be in the middle of telling quite the story to a group of drunken couples, all of whom were looking at him with rapt attention. At the end of the bar was a younger man in expensive clothes. He had a lute on his back and brightly colored vials hanging from his waist. Cass didn't like the looks of him, he looked dangerous. He looked like a salesman. A group of younger women were crowded around him, he seemed to be showing them some of his wares. 
 
In the center of the room was a clearly intoxicated individual, he didn't seemed to be sitting with anyone but all the tables around him were looking over at him. Every couple of seconds he would levitate his tankard of ale, giggling as he watched the liquid slosh wildly overhead, threatening to spill, but it always returned safely to his table. In the corner of the room farthest away from the fire, Cass caught the eye of a bearded man. Unlike the rest of the patrons, he seemed incredibly focused on the guild's entrance and did not look away when Cass locked eyes with him. 
 
"Alright, so here's the game plan..."
 
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"Oi! Y'er g'na r'gret sayin' tha' ya stupid fuckin' cat." Hizir spat at Reebus, his kindly demeanor shattering under the onslaught of Reebus' sharp tongue. The guild paid him no mind as Flora ushered them onto her ferry, offering him a crude gesture before setting sail across the channel. The guild was finally on their way to Tafi'i. It wouldn't be too long now.
 
"Truthfully, I'm glad you all decided to sail with me." Flora said. "I know it's more crowded and more expensive, but I've heard stories about Hizir." She paused to look over shoulder as if he were there to hear her. "People going missing on the trip to Tafi'i, I think he's in the slave trade business. Of course, can't prove it. No one can. He's slippery and the guard loves him. He could murder the queen herself and probably get away with it. I just hop-"
 
CRASH!!
 
The entire ferry rocked, causing Flora to grab the railing to avoid being thrown overboard. The disjointed screams of the passengers filled the air as another horrendous collision rocked the boat. 
 
"We're being fired upon!" The call from the opposite side of the ship, the same side where they had taken fire. Flora cursed beneath her breath, telling the guild to stay where they were. Whether they did or not, she honestly didn't care. Gripping the rail, she steadied herself and moved around to get a better view what was happening. Approaching from the northeast was a bigger ship sailing black flags. It was a ship that Flora recognized, in fact it sat next to her every day on the docks. It belonged to Hizir.
 
"sheet." 
 

[spoiler=OoC]
 House of the Dead
There should be someone for everyone to talk to. I made each NPC with someone in mind. Bartender = Do'jhera. Old man = Chloé. Salesman = Melethil. Broody McBrooderson = Stacks. Drunk Magician = Cass. If you want dialogue, PM me. They all, more or less, are going to serve a purpose. So unless you really want to switch with someone act as though Cass laid out a plan to go talk with these specific people.
 
I expect this round of posting to maybe take 2 posts each. But if it takes less that's fine too. 
 
Sailing to Tafi'i
Y'all made the right choice...arguably. Technically y'all are no longer in Niska. The channel is open water and you can take damage, so death is possible! Hizir's ship is not close enough for y'all to hit yet, except maybe Girasol. That said, avoid one hit kills pls. I don't intend for the battle to really start quite yet. Y'all could maybe try to hit it if you want, but you know, toe the line. I trust you. 
 
Also just a reminder to Dad, that there is a debuff for dwarves while sailing.

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Strange Tides

 

Brando was not pleased.  Not at all.  Fortunately, having an angry pirate chasing their ferry to Tafi'i wasn't his fault this time.  Unforunately, however, Dwarves had a natural debuff they received while sailing.  The sea sickness hit Brando like a ton of bricks, as he fell onto his rear.  He quickly held up a single index finger.  "I'm okay."  He was definitely not okay.  Brando struggled over to the railing of the ship, unable to clearly make out the pirate ship in the distance.  "Oy.  Since when do NPCs get so reactive?  This game will be the death of me," he joked.  If the ship was in range for Brando to attempt to fire upon, it wouldn't be nearly as blurry.  There wasn't much he could do at this time to assist Flora.

 

But they did have Girasol and Reebus.  Their spells could likely crush the crazed Hzir.   There had to be something that Hzir really wanted besides getting revenge for a bit of name calling.  No one got that angry over name calling, did they?  Besides, he was an NPC!

 

"Bah!" Brando said, falling back onto his rump.  "Let 'im come aboard.  He ain't gonna have much ta say wit' mouthful o' dynamite," Brando said, annoyed.

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Chloé blinked as a wave of golden light, roaring laughter, and pungent smells rolled over her, welcoming her into the packed interior of the Drowned Maiden. It would appear that the townspeople of Niska enjoyed their ale as much as they enjoyed the sea—if not a tad bit more. As the girl stepped into the pub, she was painfully aware of the male gazes that turned towards her, some hungry, some curious, yet all of them appraising. She looked down out of instinct, suddenly overwhelmed by a desire to turn back the way they had come. Maybe killing a bunch of monsters wasn't so bad, after all.

 

"Alright, so here's the game plan," Cass began, splitting the team up and sending them on their separate ways.

 

Moments later, Chloé found herself edging towards the fireplace, determined to get closer to the old gentleman clad in green. As she approached, she was able to get a better look at him—tall and thin, with arched silver brows and a matching mustache and goatee. Despite his age, the gentleman seemed incredibly spry, prancing about at regular intervals, his hands fluttering in complicated patterns, busy telling a story to the drunken couples gathered around him in a circle, hanging upon his every word. A bard, or a storyteller of some kind, perhaps? The man's voice and facial expressions seemed to change endlessly as he spoke, using them to embody mannerisms of the different characters in his tale. Chloé came to a halt at the edge of the group, doing her best to listen intently.

 

"And THAT'S why you should never cheat on your woman with a mermaid, especially if she's a Niskan fisherwife!! Am I right, lads? Wahaha! Thank you!"

 

The gentleman came to the end of his recital with a grand flourish of his arms, throwing back his head and laughing uproariously as his public cheered and burst into applause. Still chuckling to himself, he executed a deep bow, clearly relishing the attention. Looking up, however, his gaze seemed drawn as if by magnetism to the one face not grinning ear to ear: Chloé's.

 

"Ohoho! A newcomer, then? Step right up, lass, step right up! Don't be shy!"

 

The girl squeaked like a mouse as the crowd split before her like the Red Sea, urging her to draw closer. Before she could react, several individuals reached out and literally pulled her into the throng, passing her along like a piece of merchandise before finally depositing her at the gentleman's side.

 

"That's better, isn't it? Wahaha! Now then, my pretty lass... What's your name? Wait, no, don't tell me! Let me guess! Princess Chloé!"

 

Chloé's first reaction was panic. How did the old man know her name?! Then she remembered. Like player characters, NPCs were capable of reading player's names... though this was the first she had ever heard of one choosing to comment on them.

 

"Just Chloé," she murmured, almost inaudibly, feeling her cheeks flush pink under so many strange gazes.

 

"What's that?" the gentleman inquired loudly, bending over and raising one hand to his ear in an exaggerated gesture, provoking fresh laughs from the audience. "Speak up, my dear, speak up!! My hearing isn't what it used to be, don't you know!"

 

"My name's Chloé," she managed at last, practically wincing at the sound of her voice, which suddenly sounded unbearably shrill to her own ears. "I'm not a real princess, it's just a nickname..."

 

"Not a real princess, eh?!" he replied, while the crowd groaned in disappointment. "Nonsense! Anyone can see you're of right noble stock from that fancy silver dress! Wouldn't you say, lads? Isn't she pretty as a sunrise, with that golden hair?!"

 

The men gathered around them cheered enthusiastically, several of them wolf-whistling in agreement. The women, on the other hand, contented themselves with loud sniffs and sour expressions, apparently unimpressed.

 

"Well then, Just Chloé. What brings you to The Drowned Maiden? Have you come to hear the tales of Old Roving Tom, the most renowned, most beloved, and most handsome storyteller to ever wander the world of Bluefire?"

 

"Well, I..." she began, floundering, looking around desperately for someone—anyone!—to help her. "That is, I... Yes. Or rather, I wanted to ask you. Please sir, what can you tell me about the abandoned building next door? The House of Neykia?"

 

A heavy silence fell suddenly upon the group at her words, leaving her to turn around, even more flustered and confused than before. Had she said something wrong? And then...

 

"The House of Neykia? Aye, there are a few tales I could tell you about it. But none more famous than this... Pull up a chair, kick back your feet and make yourself comfortable, lass! Let Old Roving Tom tell you The Tale of the Two Lovers!"

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The trip had been going smoothly, up until their ship was being attacked by pirates. Lichiethro nearly fell from where he was sitting when the other ship crashed into them. "Damn it." He cursed as he got up, looking outside. He had hoped they wouldn't encounter any fighting - as far as team compositions went, theirs was pretty awful. Still, it wasn't too bad; they had 2 members that excelled at long-range combat, and he himself could attack from a distance, a bit very inefficiently. "Looks like I get to play support again." He said, partially sarcastic, before summoning a trio of specters from his lantern. He turned to Girasol and Reebus, sending the ghosts into them to boost their attacks. "Bah!" Boom said, falling back onto his rump. "Let 'im come aboard. He ain't gonna have much ta say wit' mouthful o' dynamite," The thought of Brando blowing hole in the ship was an idea that frightened the necromancer. "Not to rain on your parade, but for our sake let's hope that doesn't happen." He turned to the ranged fighter. "Looks like it's up to you two."

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"We're being fired upon!"

 

Reebus couldn't help but look to the horizon to see a ship approaching.  He couldn't help but yawn.  From what the man had spat at him beforehand, Reebus couldn't help but see this event coming from half a mile away.  However, something caught his attention.  A new quest had yet to pop up on his H.U.D., which was both frightening and intriguing.  The intrigue came with the fact that if this wasn't a quest event, then that meant that Hzir had evolved past his programming, and actually had a hint of malice towards the group.  Was the A.I. getting progressively more complicated over time?  

 

"Looks like I get to play support again."

 

Reebus' body shuddered at the implications of the statement.  His skin crawled as the spectres entered his body, empowering him, but also upsetting his stomach.  

 

"I'll need more warning than that to brace myself...I almost lose my lunch each time we do this Lich."  Unfortunately, the ship wasn't in his casting range...if it were, he could light the whole vessel on fire with ease, and this sea terror would be taking an early trip to Davy Jones' locker.  Brando, who was debuffed due to his race on the ship, was going to prove vestigial on this specific fight.  Reebus sneered at their token Dwarf with a hint of superiority.  "Why you chose to partake in my group, I'll never know...knowingly stepping foot on a ship...is this your first video game?  Because that's not how you play a video game well."

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Typical.  As long as the enemy ship was out of range, there was nothing Brando could do.  He'd hoped to avoid conflict taking this route, but it seemed trouble followed the dwarf wherever he went.  Snide remarks from both the Lich and the bald pussy didn't help him in anyway.  "Ya gonna keep worryin' about my class or ya gonna do yer job?  I didn't want to bothered with ya in any fashion, Reebus.  In fact, I can't stand ya.  But you were the last to open your dry, cottonmouth.  Girasol could've led us on her own.  She makes a fine leader.  Since her head ain't up 'er ass," he said, before tucking his head into his knees.  The trip was supposed to be simple, and quick.  This shouldn't have happened, as far as Brando was concerned.

 

"Your big mouth somehow--in all the friggin' a.i. we had to encounter--set this one off.  If you had kept yer yap shut, we wouldn't be in this predicament.  We could've been at the library by now!"  Brando was sick.  He was sick of this ship, he was sick of this game, and he--and Macy--were sick of this predicament.  But most of all, they were sick of Reebus.  "Aye, I hope ya kill that pirate.  Everyone knows dwarves and pussies can't swim."  Brando chuckled despite the circumstances.  "Matter o' fact," Brando said, forcing himself to his feet.  "Since yer too stupid ta figure it out, I'll do it meself."

 

Brando hobbled over to Flora, looking her in the eye.  "Only way we're makin' it is if ya get that dumb cat and Ms. Girasol in range.  I can't do much, I'm a dwarf.  But they got the power to blow that ship ta hell.  I ain't gonna tell ya how to move your ship, cap'n.  It's just a stern suggestion."

 

With his flintlock pistol in hand, Brando hobbled back beside Girasol, his gun pointed over the edge of the railings.  "I'm doublin' down.  Whatever repairs I was gonna give ya, I'm gonna go the extra mile," he said with a hiccup.  "Ya get rid o' that ship, and I'll see to it those guns o' yers don't need upgrades for a long time."

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-BGM-

 

"Alright, so here's the game plan..."

 

The "game plan" as it was, had Do'jhera to talk to the bartender. Said bartender seemed like she was a woman who seemed to have the attention of all the male patrons who were in the room. With a deep breath, Do'jhera approached the bar to speak with the bartender. He sat down and of course, waited until she was down his direction after she was finished with the other patrons. It gave the Khepura enough time to come up with what to say and ask.

 

Hey, the house beside here...the abandoned one? What can you tell me about it? Our guild is looking to buy it. Do'jhera thought, nodding as he repeated this over and over in his head.

 

"Oi! What can I get ya, fuzz-ball?"

 

Do'jhera looked up quickly and saw that the bartender was standing in front of him as he just stared there for a bit. Finally he shook his head and looked down at the bar table and slowly started to tap on it with his index finger's claw. "U-Uh...w-well miss...I..." he started, obviously feeling nervous in general. This setting just seemed like the type where a brawl would just ensue. He knew nine times out of ten they would, but he was also really nervous with coming in here because someone might've known who he was.

 

"Yer a pretty skiddish feline, ain't ya?" she asked, noticing Do'jhera slowly raise his head and look at her. "Yer more nervous than a guilty man before he's about to be hung."

 

"I-It that obvious...?" he asked, seeing the bartender nodding. "I-I'm sorry. Just been really on edge s-since I walked back into Niska...haven't been here in a long while..."

 

The bartender, seemed to listen as she pulled out a small mug and poured a small concoction of alcohol into it. To Do'jhera's surprise, she pushed it in his direction. "It's on the house. Now, how about we do something about that nervousness of yers." she said, crossing her arms. "I know a thing or two about guys like you being nervous. New scenery, new locations, or even just nervous about the unknown..."

 

"EY!! I need another refill here!!" a man shouted down on the opposite side of the bar table, slamming his mug on it quite a few times.

 

The bartender only glanced in the direction of the shouting and sighed. "Excuse me..." she said, before moving and shouting back. "YA'VE HAD ENOUGH YA OLD COOT!! PAY YOUR TAB AND LEAVE!" she grumbled, before returning to Do'jhera. "So which is it?"

 

Do'jhera looked at the bartender before looking at the drink. He grabbed it and took a small sip of it before sighing. "Guess...I guess it's just a little bit of the unknown and even my past." he said, beginning to explain quite a bit to the bartender. Do'jhera knew she was an NPC, but the fact that she was giving him total focus and even ignoring other customers that came to the bar. As he finished explaining everything up to the point where he joined Ithaca, he took one last sip of his drink, before putting the mug down. "A-And...and that's where I'm at. I'm...I'm nervous that if I'm around them for too long...t-they'll..."

 

"Follow the same fate, no?" the bartender finished the sentence for Do'jhera. It surprised him that she would, but then again, in the back of his mind this bartender was an NPC and a computer program...they did tend to learn fast. "Listen. Ya just need to leave this nervous side of yers behind. Kick it to the curb like my ex-husband and his floozy. You, yerself, need to get it together. Ya got people who are lookin' for ya to pull yer weight! And ya can't do that if yer tails between yer legs and actin' nervous like. Ya Khepuras are strong warriors, so ya need to start acting like ya got some sense."

 

Do'jhera looked at the bartender, before nodding slowly. Right now he didn't need to worry about what others would say if they saw him back in Niska and remembered him from when Forté was around. He needed to keep focused on helping Cass and Ithaca. "R-Right...t-thank you miss." he said with a small nod.

 

"Glad I could help." she said, taking the mug from Do'jhera and beginning to start cleaning it. "Now what else is it ya need?"

 

"Well..." Do'jhera started, rubbing the back of his neck before chuckling. "I was wondering if you knew anything about the abandoned building beside here. My guild is looking to buy i-"

 

"No." Do'jhera was cut off quickly, as he watched the bartender slam the mug on the counter, staring at him intently. "Take my advice, fuzz ball. Stay away from that house."

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"Lads, lasses, your attention, please!" the gentleman commanded in his ringing voice, clapping his hands together and stomping upon the wooden floor. "The Tale of the Two Lovers!"

 

It was, without a doubt, both the strangest and the most familiar story Chloé had ever heard. At times, she almost wondered whether the bard was making up the details as he went, so outlandish was his tale, filled with unlikely characters and even more unlikely magic. Yet only moments later, she couldn't seem to shake the impression that she had already heard it somewhere before. Hardly surprising, truth be told. The girl had spent most of her life confined to her hospital bed with only books to keep her company—it was extremely unlikely that she'd run across a story to which she had absolutely no frame of reference.

 

Vassar... And Ilyena...

 

Two star-crossed lovers, bound by destiny, doomed to die painful, tragic deaths. The tale was obviously a nod to archetypal figures within Western literature, like Romeo and Juliet... Or perhaps Tristan and Isolde. In any case, it was clear that Bluefire's game designers hadn't come up with it on their own. But what was the connection with The House of Neykia?

 

"And with their dying breaths, the two lovers pressed their bloodstained hands together and swore a vow to each other. A vow of undying, everlasting love. A vow so powerful, it would withstand the very trials of time. And so ends the tale... For never was there a story so mournful and so bizarre, than this of fair Ilyena and her gallant Vassar."

 

Chloé blinked as the gentleman came to the end of his recital with another flourish of his arms, her ears filled with the cheers and applause of the couples gathered around her. And just like that, the spell was broken.

 

"Please, sir," she murmured softly, speaking to Old Roving Tom while the crowd shifted in their seats, calling out for another round of drinks. "Is that story true?"

 

"Of course, princess!" he replied, chuckling to himself as he twiddled his whiskers. "Weren't you listening?"

 

"But I still don't—"

 

"The Tale of the Two Lovers is one of the most famous legends in this region, little lass. And I'll tell you why. Because it took place in this very city, in this very district, not so very long ago. In the house next door, to be precise."

 

Chloé's voice trailed off, her eyes widening as the title of the guild's newest mission took on a sinister new meaning. House of the Dead.

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Cass made sure everyone was clear on who they needed to talk and then began to weave her way through The Drowned Maiden's raucous clientele. Bars were not her scene, as many times as she had tried to make them her own. Abigail had been much better at navigating the social footwork that came with a night that you couldn't quite remember in the morning, but it still somehow left a smile on your face in the morning. For a moment, Cass wished Abigail was there with her; things were always easier when she was around. However, she quickly wiped such thoughts from her mind. No matter how difficult things go for her, she would never wish for Abigail to be trapped in Bluefire. 

 

"Is this seat taken?" Cass asked, finally pushing her way through the crowd and sitting down without an answer from the man in the wide brimmed hat. He took a large swig from his mug, splashing a hearty portion of it down his front before sending it levitating above their heads. Then, he turned to Cass and let out a hearty belch, several pieces of mutton that had been caught on his beard fell to the table. 

 

"Th'n'ms J'ms'n." He slurred out, a crooked smile on his lips. Cass briefly looked at the NPCs name.

 

"Jameson?" She asked.The drunken wizard shook his head.

 

"J'ms'n." He corrected.

 

"Jameson?"

 

"J'ms'n."

 

"Jameson?" Cass insisted, enunciating very carefully, getting annoyed. He nodded. The oracle wanted to scream, but retained her composure. She could tell this was going to be a frustrating conversation. She should've sent Stacks over here, or maybe Do'jhera; Cass was not a fan of heavily intoxicated sorcerers as it turned out. She had wanted to speak with him because he looked like he frequented the area a lot, but already she was beginning to think he was more trouble than it was worth. However, it wouldn't do well to come back without even trying.

 

"Alright, Jameson," Cass jumped as the tankard that had been previously floating above their heads dropped on to the table, spilling what little of its contents were left. She suppressed the scream of anger that welled up in her throat and instead settled on a shrill groan. 

 

"S'rry." Jameson offered, unfurling his arms in a gesture of apology that just missed sincere. He leaned back in his chair, too far for it to be physically possible, but Cass figured he was using the same magic that had caused the tankard to float to keep himself from crashing to the floor.

 

"You know what, why don't you just tell me if you know anything about that damned house next door, huh? Tell me and I can be on my way." Cass dropped her facade of nicety, trying to wipe ale off the front of her robe to little success. 

 

"Wait," Jameson said, bringing the front two legs of the chair back on the suspiciously soft floorboards of the tavern,"the house next door?" Cass was taken aback by his sudden lack of a drunken slur, but chose not to comment on it.

 

"Yes, that's what I said. Now if you don't know anything I ha-" 

 

"Why?" 

 

"I'm going to buy it." 

 

A dark expression passed beneath Jameson's eyes. "Well, then I guess we've got a lot to talk about." 

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Stacks4Daze

 

The four of them ventured into a tavern nearby. The place was really right up Stacks's alley, but what they were there to do wasn't. Her old guild never got into the setting and really wanted to spend most of its time hitting things. If ever they could skip out on the interaction portions of a quest, they would take the fighting option. Of course, this wasn't Stacks's old guild, and she wasn't in the position to say. Most of the guild split off to speak with different individuals, and Cass, Melethil, and Stacks were left. One of the only people left that hadn't been spoken to yet was a bearded individual in the back corner of the room, sitting alone at a table; the one who couldn't take his eyes off the guild.

 

"I got the creepy dude over there," Stacks muttered to Cass, walking over to the bearded individual. As she got close, the man looked away, his gaze out the window, but at nothing in particular. A waitress came by and asked if there was anything that Stacks wanted. She ordered two strong ales, one for each of them.

 

"That's very kind o' you," The bearded man said quietly to Stacks once the waitress was gone. "What's the occasion?"

 

"I wanted to ask you a few questions," Stacks responded nonchalantly.

 

"This should be good."

 

"First off; what're you doin' back here by yourself?"

 

"I'm here every night."

 

"And why's that?"

 

"Does it look like I got anythin' better tah do?"

 

The waitress came by and dropped off the drinks. The bearded man took a long drag from his, but Stacks left her's alone for now.

 

"Okay, so why're you eyein' me and my friends like that?"

 

"Maybe's my turn tah ask a question; what're five young kids dressed up for the circus walkin' intah a seedy tavern like this in the middle o' the day?"

 

Stacks let out a sigh. She couldn't deny that their manner of entry was suspicious to a degree. While it wasn't obvious at all, Stacks could swear she saw the hint of a smug expression on the bearded man's face before he went for another swig.

 

"We were wondering about that haunted house next to this place, lookin' to see if anyone her knew anything about it."

 

"Hmmmm..." The man thought for a moment. "Can't say I know much. Sorry I can't help you kids."

 

"sheet, well-" Stacks cut herself off, looking around the bar and noticing that nobody else from her group was even remotely done with their NPCs yet. She still had time. "Actually I gotta different question; what's a guy like you gettin' sheet-faced by himself in the middle of the day?"

 

The bearded man was quiet for a moment. "What's it matter to you?"

 

"If I'm at a bar, it's either to have fun with friends or make a shitty day better. Don't seem like you got any friends here, so..."

 

"So you think I'm here tah drown my sorrows?"

 

Stacks shrugged in response.

 

"Well," The man sighed. "You're not wrong. Don't know if you'll care for any of it, though."

 

"Try me. What's on your mind?"

 

 

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Girasol

 

“Save the praise for dry ground, Brando.” Her expression was as dour as normal, but Girasol internally relished the tongue-lashing that the dwarf had administered upon their leader. This was an awful turn of events that for all she knew was entirely preventable, all because someone couldn’t shut up. She then pivoted to face the still-irate cat. “And you, goyangi. It was your wagging lips that got us into this mess, so for all of our sakes you’d better watch them enough to get us out. One more wisecrack, and I’ll see to it that we find out what happens when a cat can’t swim.” She grunted in sour frustration at their predicaments. “Got it?”

 

No response was needed, or even expected. She stalked off. Girasol's goal was conceptually simple: administer enough non-lethal shots such that they'd halt the assault. But that wasn't going to be so easy. The cannon fire was still arcing wide, but a single good shot would doom the crew and then equally. And the gods knew she wasn't a swimmer.

 

She whipped out Kybele from under her cloak, smoothly loading her with practiced motions, before hurdling over to behind a railing on the ship’s starboard. One of Lichiethro’s wraiths followed her, its power flowing into her as it stood at wait.

 

“I’m doublin' down. Whatever repairs I was gonna give ya, I'm gonna go the extra mile. Ya get rid o' that ship, and I'll see to it those guns o' yers don't need upgrades for a long time.”

 

“Much obliged,” Girasol replied coolly to the seasick dwarf next to her, “but first find a bucket.” Taking prerequisite cover, she aimed a practiced scope towards one of the pirates loading a cannon, making sure to correct for wind and movement. She inhaled, squeezing the trigger in concert with her breath-

 

And a wave hit the bow. The gun bucked and the shot went high, passing through the thigh of one of the pirates on the higher deck. The sniper grimaced as he dropped. That wasn’t the worst result, but it went a ways towards revealing her position, which as a markswoman was far from ideal. “sheet,” she cursed. “Can someone stabilize this ship? Or at least calm the passengers, please!” It was less a request and more a barked order.

 

Behind her, she heard Reebus’s still-snide comments. God, did she want to wring the mage’s neck. There was a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that whatever was going to happen, it would end poorly at best. And it would be his fault once again.

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"You guys are no fun. Fine, let's go to the bar. Just one thing: If the monsters in there are low enough level, I say we let Chloe and Do' do most of the ass kicking. I'd probably just set the place on fire, and those two need the experience the most anyways."

 

"I-I agree. And if, if they get hurt, I'll be r-right there to heal them."

 

With the guild's course of action decided, the group of Melethil, Cass, Stacks, Do'jhera, and Chloe made their way over to The Drowned Maiden. Melethil didn't particularly like the looks of any of these people. Drunks and scoundrels. As much as the elf liked being able to get better prices from his wares if he was negotiating with someone whose brain was drowned in drink, he didn't like dealing with drunks and their mannerisms. It was then that Cass announced the game plan for their visit here. Melethil was to speak with a man selling what seemed to be love potions to a group of ladies. They seemed awfully interested in the man and his wares. Suspiciously so.

 

"U-Understood."

 

Melethil took a glance at the man and the girls around him. Then he moved in, having brought a few of his relics to the bar with the intent to sell. Seemed he'd gotten a bit more than he'd bargained for. Once he was at the table with the man and the women around him, Melethil cleared his throat, and said "E, Excuse me."

 

"Huh?" The salesman turned his attention away from the girls, and toward Melethil. "And you are?"

 

Business face. Business face. A warm smile cracked across Melethil's face, as he cheerfully answered "A salesman, same as you sir!"

 

"You? A salesman? Get real."

 

"I'm for real. In fact, I came here to make some sales the same as you. I have one-of-a-kind relics from ancient ruins scattered across the Pernicies Desert, all for sale at a reasonable price. For example..." The elf pulled forth what seemed to be an odd hybrid of a compass and a sundial, just a bit too big to be used as a watch. Setting it on the table, he explained "As I understand it, this was used by whatever ancient people lived in the desert, and its purpose was that it would point a person toward their soulmate." That was a bald-faced lie on Melethil's part. It was indeed just a hybrid of a sundial and a compass, and the compass part currently pointed right at the door of the establishment. "Hmm, looks like none of us have any soulmates in here. How sad."

 

The girls gathered around the salesman seemed a bit less enthusiastic at his presence with that lie.

 

"That thing's obviously broken," the man scoffed. "You expect me to pay for that junk?"

 

"W-Well, no. But, I'm sure these ladies are looking for love. They're awfully interested in your love potions, after all! I wouldn't mind buying one myself, in fact! Perhaps we can make a trade?"

 

"That doesn't sound like a fair bargain."

 

"How about if I added this?" Melethil put on the table, next to the sundial-compass, what looked like a featureless doll made of clay. It had clearly seen better days, though it had distinct markings across its body, similar to what one may find in Pernicies Desert ruins. "An ancient voodoo doll. Whoever you think about when you do something to it, that will happen to that person. These two items for one of your love potions. I'd say that's more than fair." Another lie on Melethil's part. The doll was just a regular clay dol. He had at least thirty more back home.

 

"Hmmm... it's a deal."

 

"A pleasure doing business with you," Melethil smiled, as he handed his items to the salesman and got a bottle with the "love potion" inside. As the elf popped open the bottle, he said "These must be popular if the girls are so interested in them. Or you for that matter." Does he think I'm an idiot? I know this sleazebag's kind; he's the kind of person I'd draw in a shady doujin if he charmed guys instead of girls. These potions can't be real. Melethil swigged down the contents of the small bottle unceremoniously, and waited briefly. Well, even if they are real, that's okay too if it's Melethil. Nothing happened. Melethil waited a bit longer. Still nothing.

 

I knew it. What a scumbag.

 

"Wow, these love potions are really something," Melethil said, feigning amazement at the "potion" that did absolutely nothing. Leaning onto the table, he continued "I feel nothing at all. So um, these, these aren't the real thing, are they?" As the elf continued leaning in further and further, he continued "I knew an alchemist in Xyra who made love potions you know; she was one of my best customers. Perhaps you and her could exchange notes? It tastes kind of like, um... like water. With dye."

 

By this point, Melethil's face was just inches from the salesman's. "If word got out about how weak your love potion was, that um, that would be r-really unfortunate... right?"

 

The salesmen went silent. Waving his hands toward the women around him, he sighed "Show's over ladies. We can talk more after I deal with my new friend here. Now, what did you come here to bother me for? Not smart to just interrupt a guy's business for no reason."

 

"I-I'm on the search for information. It's, um, about the house next door."

 

"Ooh, that old place? I took a lady there once you know. Weird place, some crazy sheet happened I tell ya."

 

"Crazy? P, Please, tell me more."

 

"Nah."

 

"W-What's the harm in sharing a little story?"

 

"You that interested in what a man and a woman do in bed, kiddo?"

 

"A-ATTENTION ALL S-SINGLES!" Melethil suddenly exclaimed, standing up on the table he'd been leaning on and pointing down to the salesman. "TH, THIS MAN'S LOVE POTIONS ARE--MMPH!" The salesman rocketed up from his seat, clamping his hand over Melethil's mouth to cut the elf off. Melethil cast a victorious look down at the salesman in response.

 

"Fine, I'll tell you," he quietly said. "Happy now?"

 

Melethil nodded. The salesman let go of Melethil's mouth, and the elf finished "TH-THEY'RE ACTUALLY REALLY EFFECTIVE! MAKE SURE THAT YOU GET ONE, B-BEFORE HE RUNS OUT OF STOCK!" With his announcement made, the elf hopped down from his table, and followed the salesman aside, away from any prying ears.

 

"Listen," he said, still speaking in a hushed tone. "After the place closed, I took a lady I was sharing some drinks with over there. I dunno what she had, but the girl was out like a light. I, being the chivalrous man I am, took her there, and get this, the girl just up and dies! Somebody must have poisoned her drink. What kind of monster does that? Anyway, the whole place goes wild, with all sorts of nasties. Or, something. I never did get to properly see just what was in there. I only ever got out because I had these handy [Draught of the Spirit Hunter]s handy! They make all attacks fifty percent more effective against the undead. Great, huh? If you're going over there, perhaps you should buy some. It would be a damn shame if you went in and never came out."

 

"Th, Thank you for the information. I'll have to pass on your sales offer. I, I'm a cleric, so I should be just fine."

 

"Tch. Your funeral, kid."

 

Says you.


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"I'll need more warning than that to brace myself...I almost lose my lunch each time we do this Lich." The necromancer smirked. "Oh, really? I hadn't noticed." The cat's reaction to getting buffed was probably Lichiethro's favorite part of playing a supporting roll. Of course, that smirk was a bit short lived as it quickly turned into a grimace as Reebus and Boom got into a little squabble, which didn't seem to sit too well for their resident sniper. He walked up to Reebus. "You need to learn to keep your trap shut." He let out an annoyed sigh. "At least for now, anyways." He snapped his fingers, spawning a trio of specters around him. He could hear the sniper curse in frustration, probably due to the rocking of the boat. Stabilizing the boat was way out of his jurisdiction; all he could really do is wait. He hated waiting. Taking a seat, he muttered something incomprehensible, although one would be able to make out a few curses spat out if they were paying attention.

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Stacks4Daze

 

"Try me. What's on your mind?" Stacks had asked the bearded man.

 

The man took a drag from his drink, and set it down. "Well, if you insist," he growled, pausing for a moment.

 

"A while back I fell into some hard times. Money was hard tah come by, and I needed tah put bread on the table and keep a roof over our heads. I was gettin' desperate and hard tah take out a pretty big loan," The man explained slowly and methodically.

 

"So now you're in debt and you drink away your problems?" Stacks replied, but the man just snorted at her comment.

 

"No, the debt's gone."

 

"And how'd you manage that?"

 

"The collector organized a meetin' to take place to collect. It was a few thousand crescents, but I could never get that kinda money to pay 'im off. I tried brushin' him off and delayin' and everythin' 'til I got the money, but it didn't work and he sought me out."

 

"So then what?"

 

"We had the meetin', and he was threatenin' tah get me thrown in jail and a buncha other horrible things. I didn't know what else tah do, so... I killed 'im."

 

BGM:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PZnKRmCVc_0

Stacks sat there, stunned. The bearded man's eyes began to shimmer, and he downed the rest of his drink in one gulp.

 

"I... I don't know... I just panicked... I was scared and I couldn't think o' anythin' else tah do... I just... I can't..."

 

"...You can't get their face outta your head..." Stacks said quietly. The man looked at her in a somber silence. Stacks picked up her drink and took a long drink as well.

 

"...Yeah... I can't get their face outta my head. It was... they... They never caught me, but..." The man wiped away some tears and composed himself better. "But I wish they did."

 

"Do ya ever think about turnin' yourself in?" Stacks asked with a low voice.

 

"Sometimes... I don't know what tah do. I guess all I want to is to forget."

 

The two of them sat in a mutual silence, one bread of understanding and sympathy. After a moments, the man spoke up again.

 

"You know what I'm talkin' about, huh kid."

 

Stacks took another drink. "A friend of mine was in trouble, two funkers were tryin' to kill her. I scared one of 'em off, but the other..." Stacks choked a sob, looking away before continuing, her voice shaking. "I couldn't- I just- I was scared... and angry, and- and I couldn't think, and just-" The man got up from his seat, and walked over quietly, placing his hand on Stacks's back.

 

"Yer young, you didn't know what you were doin'." The man said softly. "I don't know what those guys wanted, but you were tryin' tah keep your friend safe, you didn't do it 'cause you wanted to." Stacks nodded, putting every ounce of her energy into keeping herself even a little composed. "Listen, that guilt's gonna stay with you for a long time, I can't lie tah you 'bout that. But don't forget who you are, and why you did what you did. Your friend's alive 'cause of you; so don't take that for granted. Sometimes you gotta take that fall to give others that chance. That's what all those heroes in all those stories were about." Stacks looked up and managed a weak smile, the man slapping her armored back as he made his way back to his seat. "Anyways, I've taken 'nuff o' your time. Don't worry about the regrets of an old man like me; you're still a young lass, and it sounds like you're headin' down the right path."

 

"You're right," Stacks replied, her voice much steadier. "I gotta go, but you sure you don't know anythin' about that house?"

 

The bearded man shook his head. "Nothin', other than it was on that property that I murdered that collector. Dunno if that means anythin', but if you heard the house is cursed, then I'm not surprised."

 

Stacks nodded, and got up from her seat. "Well, thanks. And, thanks for listenin' to me, and I hope things get better for you, dunno how, but yeah."

 

"Don't mention it. And kid, don't give up. You're gonna do some great things out there."

 

Stacks smiled. "I won't," she replied, giving him a wave before she rejoined Cass.

 

"Well, I got jack all outta him," Stacks said with a shrug as she approached the guild's leader. What frustrated Stacks was the nature of the conversation; that she got all of that from a goddamned NPC of all things. But, regardless, she was thankful the developers coded them that well. She heard what she needed to hear.

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"I bought that house nearly 10 years ago." Jameson stared at Cass as if that was supposed to mean something to her. She stared back, waiting for him to say something that would help the guild. "Well when we bought the house, my," Jameson paused, looking around to make sure that no one was paying too close of attention anymore, "my partner and I, couldn't wait to get started on the rest of our lives." Cass felt a familiarity in the hushed undertones of how Jameson had stressed the word partner. He had meant his husband. Apparently, Niska wasn't horribly kind to gay men. 

 

"So, what happened?" Cass asked, sensing a turn in the story.

 

"Xander and I lived there for about a month before things got really bad. In the beginning we had both turned a blind eye to it all. Noises. Things falling over. But, one night we were visited by a man in a wide brimmed hat. He told us to leave or that a payment would have to be taken."

 

"Did you get the guard to search your house? Surely they could have done something about a break in?" Only after saying this did Cass remind herself that she was in a world of coded text and impossible visuals. She took a deep breath, trying to remember that Jameson's story didn't even really happen. 

 

"It wasn't a break in," Jameson said sullenly, "That man had lived there a lot longer than us. I just wish, wish," Jameson fell silent, his eyes glued to the table.

 

"Wish what?" 

 

"Wish we had left. The next morning I woke up to Xander standing above me. He was smiling, but also crying. I'll never forget his face, oh gods, I'll never forget that face." Jameson sobbed for a moment into the crook of his elbow, leaving Cass unsure of what to do. She felt strange about comforting a person that wasn't real and she wasn't clear on why he was upset, the story was ominous up until this point, but had yet to bring any disastrous news with it. Cass elected to just patiently sit and wait for Jameson to compose himself. 

 

"Sorry, sorry, I don't normally talk about this, but you need to hear it if you are going into that house. So, Xander was standing over me, but then I felt something slick on my hand. It was blood. Xander's throat had been cut in the night."

 

"But you said he was alive that morning."

 

"No, I said he was standing over me." 

 

"I don't understand."

 

"That house does things to the dead. Traps them, perverts them."

 

"So, Xander he is..."

 

"Still there, yes. And, I would do anything to trade places with him. Do you know what that is like? To know the one you is love suffering?"

 

"I have to go." 

 

"Wait! Miss!" Cass paused. "Watch out for the man in the wide brimmed hat."

 

 

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"Oi! B'caref'l withat! We d'n't w'nt tuh sink 'em!" Hizir said, shouting at his crewmen manning the cannons. They just wanted to cripple the ferry. Hizir was no genius, but it didn't take a genius to know that he needed his slaves alive to sell them. Plus, Hizir wanted to rip the tongue out of that stupid cat's face. 

 

A scream sounded from the upperdeck. "My leg! My bloody f***in' leg!" The image of the hooved woman passed through Hizir's mind. She had been carrying a gun when getting on the ferry. At this distance, she'd be one of the only one's to be able to reach the ship. 

 

"Fuh f***'s sake somebody quiet 'im up!" 

 

Hizir couldn't help but think it was good that they had taken a casualty, it stopped him from getting complacent. "We're gonna be boardin' soon! Git r'dy ya sons o' b****es!!" Hizir screamed at the top of his lungs, he was met with a chorus of excitement. Trusting that they would be able to get the attack started without him, Hizir stomped below deck to make sure the attack wasn't stopped before it started. 

 

Fleeting sunlight filtered through the floorboards, however the area was lit by an orange glow further below deck. By the light of a single lantern, a woman sat at a table slowly flipping over tarot cards. Her auburn hair fell in long, glorious curls, resting comfortably against her crimson silk dress. She did not look up at Hizir approached, in fact, she gave no indication that she even knew he was there. 

 

"Olena." He addressed.

 

"Hizir." She responded, flipping over another tarot card.

 

"Will you-"

 

"Yes, I believe I will." She said. "It would not do me well to see this ship sunk while I am on board. My wards will hold."

 

"Thank you, Olena."

 

Hizir turned to leave, clearly uncomfortable. He had his hand on his sword, as though he had been prepared to draw it. With each step towards the stairs, he seemed a bit more relax, clearly the sorceress was someone that not even he liked to trifle with.

 

"I love you, husband." Olena said after him. Hizir paused. 

 

"And I, you, Olena."


[spoiler=OoC]

So kind of a GM post~

 

Those of you at the bar still don't have anything new to do. So bear with me

 

Those on the ferry. You are being boarded! As the ship comes into range you'll notice that it is being protected from all forms of magical attack and explosives. The pirates you are facing aren't overly difficult opponents, but you are outnumbered. There are roughly 30 pirates coming to ransack the ferry and while their goal is to take you alive, if you fight back, they will kill you. You are free to do what you will with the random pirates aboard. They armed with flintlocks, cutlasses, and knives.  

 

Hizir and Olena will make an appearance later in the fight. 

 

 

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"No. Take my advice, fuzz-ball. Stay away from that house."

 

Do'jhera stared at the bartender as her whole demeanor changed...and all by the mention of the house next door. The silence fell between the two as they both just stared at each other, until the Khepura was the first to finally speak.

 

"W-Why exactly?" Do'jhera asked, clearing his throat to break the silence. "I mean, its just an old house, right?"

 

The bartender sighed and shook her head. She stood upright and moved her hand away from the mug she slammed on the counter. "It's more complicated than that, I'm 'fraid." she said, dismissing the conversation to put the mug behind the counter.

 

"Well, I wouldn't mind hearing the reason though." the Khepura said, seeing the bartender turn back towards him. "I gotta at least know why."

 

The bartender only let out a sigh, before turning back to fully face the feline Duelist. The look she had in her eyes and the expression on her face, it showed Do'jhera such emotion. For an NPC, he could immediately feel that she was troubled by this matter something awful.

 

-BGM-

 

"Then make yerself comfy, fuzz-ball...it's a pretty long explanation." the bartender sighed. "First...I suppose I should say that the house, well those who find themselves in it, that is to say, go in, they never come out." With a defeated sigh, she shrugged. "Dunno why, but what I am damn sure about is that some terrible things have happened there in that house..."

 

Do'jhera listened to the bartender, engrossed in the explanation she was giving, only to be worried when she moved in closely to whisper in his ear. However, what she whispered had his fur standing on end for the moment.

 

"Those who die in that house...find it hard to leave."

 

He swallowed hard, feeling a lump in his throat now after hearing this. T-Then I guess the house really IS haunted right now. he thought, before watching the bartender return to her normal upright position. "M-Miss..." he started, though a little unsure what to say at this point. "I-I...I understand that. But I...my guild master found that house and she really wants it for our guild. I-Is there any possible way we can just get in there and...and maybe assess the situation...?"

 

A small frown appeared on the bartender's face before sighing. "Still determined to go anyway, eh fuzz-ball?"

 

"Well...its probably the alcohol you handed me earlier finally taking effect." Do'jhera smiled weakly, trying to lighten the mood, to which he saw the bartender chuckle as well.

 

"Fine, fine." she said before turning around to look for something. "I got a spare key for the house, courtesy of the last owner abandoned it."

 

"The last owner abandoned it?" Do'jhera asked, seeing the bartender turn back around to face him, slowly sliding something on the counter towards his hand.

 

"He was a wreck after his husband died..." the bartender whispered to him, as she slid what she had into the Khepura's paw and had him tightly hold it. It was the spare key to the house.

 

Do'jhera held onto the key and finally stood up from the bar and cleared his throat. "Miss...thank you." he said, looking at his clenched hand, before looking back at the bartender. "Not just for this...but...but for helping me out with my own problem."

 

The bartender only smiled and nodded. "My pleasure, hun." she simply said before returning to her job.

 

Now armed with a little bit of this knowledge about the house and even the spare key, he quickly moved from the bar to find Cass to relay the information to her. All the while, questioning what could've happened in that house. People go in and never come out? The dead there never wanting to leave? And even the previous owner abandoning the place after his husband died and becoming an instant wreck? What could've been happening at that house that could bring so much pain and suffering? Now Do'jhera had to find out.

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