Day Eight: Treading Water
Dawn arrives at Mortal Camp, finding a very sluggish and sleepy Nondrick P. Cairk’tir. Still, there’s a long way to walk today, and those flowers aren’t going to pick themselves.
I should be able to reach Skingrad today, provided I don’t have to wander too far from the road or have to set any women on fire. Time to get moving!
Not far up the road, I spot a wolf sniffing around. Eager to avoid a confrontation, I hunch myself over, thus becoming harder to see or at least convincing anyone watching that I have painful bowel cramps. The wolf wanders about but never leaves the road, so I decide to engage it at range with a fireball. I miss, but hit it a couple times as it races over. Weakened, it’s not difficult to finish off with my sword.
Along with the usual 10 gp pelt, this wolf was also carrying a fork. It’s not worth anything in gold, though it does provide a nice mental puzzle, namely, why the heck is a wolf carrying a fork around?
My plan to stay on the road derails shortly thereafter, but with damn good reason. INGREDIENTS.
Holy handpicked hordes of herbs! Lookit all this primo shit! The woods positively come alive with things I can gather and sell! Flax seeds, Columbine Root Pulp, Lady’s Smock leaves, Motherwort Sprig, Elf Cup Cap, Nightshade… the list goes on and on! It seems like every few feet there’s a new cluster of flowers. It’s like wandering into a field of cold hard cash. I wasted my time paddling around Anvil harbor and wandering in the dead grasslands to the north — this is the place to be.
Forgetting about my schedule, I wander off the road, first to the south, then to the north, grabbing double-handfuls of everything within reach. Eventually, I stumble upon a small dwelling named Shetcombe Farm. Well, I could stand a break for lunch, or maybe some company, so I head inside the farmhouse. I walk in and a sudden thought pops into my mind.
Hm. Yeah, I guess I could— Oh, no no no no no. No, no. Nice try, game brimming with adventure, but you’re not roping me in that easily. I’m not searching around for nobody. I’m not doing nothing. I’m leaving.
I exit the farmhouse, annoyed. Active quest? Clue to whereabouts? That’s not my idea of excitement.
In fact, I stumble upon my idea of excitement a few moments later, in the form of a small swimmin’ hole near the farmhouse. You know, it’s a beautiful day, I’ve gathered a ton of valuable ingredients, and I haven’t had to murder any attractive women… maybe I’ll have a little dip in the pond!
I strip down to my skivvies and slip into the water. Yes, that’s right, I removed my armor and clothing before entering the water, just like one would do in real life. Lookit me, maw, I’m roleplaying! Man. You’re not gonna find shit like this on other blogs.
I paddle around a bit, enjoying the warm sunlight, the cool water, and the gentle wind blowing through the trees that brings to mind the sound of ungodly leathery wings flapping.
Wait a second… ungodly leathery wings?