>>5730348>>5730363>>5730366>>5730374>>5730375>>5730394>You're getting the feeling you're starting to seriously anger Sigrid after having just earned a bit of her trust over the last couple days. Maybe you should back off.Uh, wait. You’re getting the feeling this was a bad idea, and not just because miss preppy the elf has gorilla arms. Your master has only just begun affording you the tiniest smidgens of her trust and getting into a bloody fist fight outside her house would very likely put a damper on that. You try to swallow your ego.
“W-well.. if you’re not putting on the family suit, you lose by disqualification.” You mumble, not at all swallowing your ego. “So.. I’ll be going back in now. With MY master.”
“Of course. I understand.” You catch just a glimpse of a crescent smirk beneath her frock as she rolls her sleeves back up. “Well.. I’ve made my plea for your master to consider. I ought to be going too. I’m actually on an expeditionary trip into the sea–some volunteer research work for the conservatory–so I’m sure we’ll run into each other again. Until next time, Snuff Sigurdsönn.”
You get the exact meaning behind her words. The elf will show up to pester you again. You ought to be careful–especially with this poster in your pocket..
[...]
“That’s your problem. You don’t listen to me. You never listen to me.” Your lady mutters, refastening the green gambeson over her halfling form, the potion’s effects worn away. “I told you not to get into it with the elf and you got into it. I told you not to bring strays into the chapel and you’ve brought a cockatrice. I told you to bring a blunderbuss to slay the boar and you brought a spear..”
“Uh.. sorry, my lady.” You keep your head low. “Well, still, though.. it could’ve gone much worse than it did, right..?”
“If it had gone any further than it did I might’ve had to ship you back to the conservatory–imagine if it got out that my apprentice had a fist fight with an AN SPRYS..” Your lady kneads her forehead. “Well.. it could’ve gone much worse. It’s a lark I was able to tuck into the chapel and sip some of the transpeciation potion before that elf saw me like this. Say–.. didn’t I send you out to the shop with someone else?”
“Uh–wait.” You freeze. “Bredbeddle.”
[...]
“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU FORGOT ME.” Bredbeddle slaps your head. You stand in the parlor of the GREEN CHAPEL, the house gently rocking back and forth as it goes walking out across the sea–unfortunately, you can’t much enjoy the peace of the sea while getting chewed out by two women standing at half your height. “Do you actually just hate gnomes? Seriously..?! Do you hate me..?!”
“Calm down.” Sigrid sighs. “I don’t think he hates you that much.”
>Ask Sigrid about Leshy and your next and final ingredient.>Ask Sigrid about the House An Sprys.>Ask Sigrid about why she took you on as apprentice.>[Write-In.] 