Well then I guess I better get an uninterrupted day of study for learning Magic Missile. I’m sure the fellow ignorants will do fine without me…
Though… I would like to ask Usshur if he knows of anyone knowledgeable in either alchemy, poisons, or the treatment of such things? I’d like to reassure him that I speak only as a scholar in such pursuits and not from a practical user of such pursuits (for now)… If there isn’t any leads on that, then yes- back to the bedroom for my day of meditation over the spell.
“Man, not even a luke warm wench to warm my bed. Well, I’ve never had to pay for it yet and I’m going to start tonight looks like Rosie is my girl, for now. I guess I’ll take a meal and and ale.”
I’ll go along with Toejam and Applecider to inquire about the map. If he’s tight-lipped, I’ll make two rounds of physical threats, but I won’t resort to violence.
nitpick You meant Applecider mostly, as I’m not going after Map info. Just my own personal self gain and then some studying. But if you’d like to be my apprentice, I’m sure we could work something out… I could always use a nice footstool.
On the evening of your arrival at Kullen, Parson Ramell says he is too busy to help you at the moment - he has an unplanned funeral to arrange. You can come back the following morning after the fifth hour. He has a mournful-looking man in attendance who is carrying a large spade, and a couple of younger lads.
Ishtar experiences increasing difficulties attracting Usshur’s attention, but when he does eventually get half a minute of his time, the barman shrugs his shoulders: “We’re quarrymen here mostly. If you want anything like that, I wouldn’t count on finding it any nearer than Sullwasser, maybe Briggeston”. (The latter place is about a week’s travel away, a seaport of some note.) Then he seems to find some more urgent business to be getting on with.
I shall awaken the next morning (as I had to burn the day to learn that spell) around the 6th hourish (pre-dawn).
I’ll prepare Charm for today.
Perhaps I can go and chat up this Parson Ramell fellow. But as I’ve been in my room all evening, I have not really been paying attention to what my comrades may have been up to.
So perhaps idle chitchat and curious musings?
I’ll just try to take to Parson, perhaps see what makes the man tick. And if the conversation lulls, perhaps I can ask of him does he know anyone who may be able to educate me more in the ways of alchemy, or poisons and their treatment of such things? If all else fails. I can at least enjoy the sunrise, and act all wizardly and mysteeerious.
It is now the day after your arrival at Kullen. The two wizards are spending the day trying to learn Magic Missile. In the morning Parson Ramell conducts a pauper’s funeral; this is over and done with by the fifth hour (11 a.m.). A few of the locals who have some free time turn out for the funeral. The Fighting Ignorants seem to be attracting an unusual amount of shifty glances and unusual mutterings, and the villagers aren’t disposed to be chatty.
The Parson at least agrees to see you, and does look at the map. After a brief study of it he looks at you with wise kindly eyes and says: “I shall be quite candid with you: I am not very sure I like you at the moment, and Kullen in general is quite offended by your - well, callousness is the kindest way to put it, and I hope it is nothing worse, but you can hear a number of worse opinions if you care to listen. Perhaps our village is misjudging you; perhaps you deserve a chance to prove it. What do you say?”
Wolverine wakes up refreshed after using his last spell to cast Cure Light Wounds on himself last night. He plans on spending the first hour in devotion and prayer. After that, he will talk to Parson Ramell to learn if there are any descendants of the People of the Mountain in this village that would like a cleric of [deity of the PotM] for specific rituals.
“Oh for goodness’ sake. We tried to save him! I got stabbed thanks to that unfortunate schlub. Whatever. Let’s go save this geezer’s cat or whatever quest he has in store for us.” I grumble along in this vein for the next 5 minutes.
The Parson doesn’t have a cat stuck up a tree for you to attend to, but suggests that you might raise your stock locally - and dispose him to be more inclined to help you - with a small practical demonstration of respect for the deceased. What he has in mind is a small grave-urn, which he shows you. It looks very old. He says it is quite important that it be returned to its proper place, although you need not leave instantly; any time within the next few days would be fine. The only trouble is that the proper burial place is now unattended, in disrepair, and may possibly have attracted looters. He can provide you with directions, and a guide for part of the way.
Return an urn to its burial place? Kind of mundane, isn’t it? I guess we can do that, as long as our orders from the local FI detachment don’t conflict.
