"Mr. Thompson is very dead, but, I feel as if something is trying to avoid us... Something not quite alive perhaps."
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Szerith moves to the body, places his hand upon its neck , and says, A satisfactory death -- wasting away.
Any update???
Szerith steps up to the front, and in his most commanding voice (surprising because of his frail body) calls out, "Who is there? Show yourself or be forever damned!"
"I agree. Since we have no better plan, then we should follow the directions of our benefactor. Perhaps this is some sort of game, and we are the pawns."
"Perhaps we should look into some of these carriages. There may be something useful in them. But, now that we've left the fair, we should probably head to the city." Szerith will make some attempts to look into a few of the carriages as he makes his way down the road.
"I see nothing in the trailer. Perhaps you imagined it. If we are to leave, let us leave. If you want to rummage through more of this nightmarish place, we can certainly do that."
"Perhaps you're right. Let's keep moving. Maybe we will find more of our gear if we keep exploring?"
?????? What's happening?
Szerith takes the items, while handling the weapon cord, acid flask, and bolts, he closes his eyes for a moment. "These. I know these," he thinks to himself. Then the light dims. He makes his way to the fareway to search out the others to see how they have fared.
Taking the rifle, Szerith tries to aim with the unusual weapon.
"A shooting gallery? What is that" "I will go to this shooting gallery. I have not heard of such a thing.
"Pleasures of the body hold no interest for me," says Szerith as he drops the ice cream to the ground.
"...he says as he reaches for the dice at his belt."
"I like the sound of games of chance," he says as he fetches a pair of dice from his belt pouch. "It's always helpful to be prepared for cheating, though."
"Perhaps Kethys should try this confection. And we can watch to see if there are any ill effects. Then, to the vendor, Szerith says "You mentioned the cost of subsequent orders. Will you tell us where we can earn such resources?
"Wretched smell? Hmmm. Perhaps some of us are more different than others. Then to all the others, May I suggest we check out this Freakshow first. It may be a clue as to why such a menagerie like ourselves find ourselves here. Also, it is in alphabetical order. He says with a grin.
How unusual,Szerith thought to himself, I seem to understand this, this, this, strange language they are using. I seem also to be missing, well, not just my actual gear, but some part of my memory as well. I am Szerith. Does anyone remember anything before? If not, then perhaps by searching around we can find our... benefactor.
What Kethys heard, was Kethys, vente op. Hvad har du set?
Szerith finished dressing. While affixing the hat to his head he notices ( ) a half orc getting up and mumbling to himself. Overhearing his name, Szerith calls out, Kethys, wait up. What have you seen? Szerith moves over to where Kethys is looking.
The music. Its insipid tune crawling in my ears. Forced gaiety trying to be lifelike. The brightness scratching at my eyes even before they open.
It burns my eyes! I cannot see. It burns my flesh. I hide my eyes from the sun and can barely make out others around me. A pile of clothes. First, I'll get something to cover my head. Then the rest of me. Is there something here I can form into a hat to protect my eyes? No! The nausea rises in me, but there is no food to vomit up.
Backstory: Szerith was disliked from his birth. A pale, frail child born of a forbidden union. His youth was filled with harassment and beatings from the other children in his village. With puberty came what seemed to be a wasting disease, as if his body was already rejecting what little life seemed to be his. As soon as he was able, he collected as many things as he could and set out on the road -- perhaps to redeem himself, but more likely, just to find out who and what he was. He took odd jobs, often in cemeteries, since he seemed to be not out of place there. He had taken a job as a night watchman in a cemetery in a Hendrek's Point. They had had some problems with the dead not resting in peace. As the sun came up, he got his umbrella out (since he didn't like being in direct sunlight), and as he opened his umbrella, the light of the sun seemed to pierce him to his bones...
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