>>5883157>>5883162>>5883170>>5883201>>5883254>>5883438>>5883537>>5883538>Go out with your master."Really? You don't suppose one of those in the chapel might be able to help us?" You place a hand on your chin. "We may be able to make us of Molly or Van den Bos's strength, or Bredbeddle's.. legs?"
"No. Leshy isn't a foe you can defeat by virtue of strength or magical prowess. Or fat legs.” Sigrid responds, observing the blunderbuss on her wall. “You have to outsmart him, beat him at his own game. And I trust in your intellect.. even if you make that difficult sometimes.”
You do your best to see off your chapel fellowship before you set out for the final ingredient. Van den Bos pats you on the back as the chickens peck at your sabots. Molly grunts in her sleep as you try to wave her off. Bredbeddle, who you found in the pantry admist a few empty cans of sausage, seems happy enough. And Drumstick guards your room and snaps at your fingers as you attempt to pet him.
“Done? Good.” Sigrid leans against the door out of the chapel. “Let’s hope he makes this quick. For both our sakes.”
[...]
You wade through the grass of the primordial sea after the trail left by your master. The wind laps at the green, forming cresting waves that break against your hips. The sky is clear, save for a few froth-like bubbles of clouds that foam up about the horizon. The primordial sea stretches out endless all about you–no towns nor people, just endless wilds.
“We’ll go a little distance from the chapel and summon him there. Snuff, are you paying attention?” Your master glances back at you.
“Ah–..uh, yeah.” You draw your gaze away from the sea and focus on your master.
“Good. And promise me something, Snuff.” Sigrid stares ahead. “No matter what game Leshy wants to play with me–or you–just go along with it. Don’t try to fight him or stand in for me. This isn’t like the boar or the decanter or the residue. You’ll just make it worse for us. I really mean it this time. He’s not liable to hurt us as long as we go along with what he wants.”
>Promise her you won’t.>You can’t promise anything if it means protecting her.>Drop a bomb-ass pickup line.>[Write-In.] 