>>5538286>>5538336>>5538369>>5538390>>5538412>The magic residue off a dungeon next.>Ask Sigrid if we can take the blunderbuss>think about the Demon King“Then, a-ah.. how about the magic residue off the dungeon?” You decide with a less than affirmative nod. “The god sounds like quite the rogue, so we’d best leave the most dangerous for last–well, at least the one I <span class="mu-i">hope</span> will be the most dangerous.”
A long, long time ago (perhaps half a millenia, give or take a century) the PRIMORDIAL SEA was known as the GREAT WILDS. The sea was much the same as it is today–a little more uncharted, perhaps, but all the same untamed. And one day, as if a blade had split open the belly of a great beast, a chasm opened across the sea that belched fire and spewed smoke and poured forth demons.
The ABYSSAL BREACH, as it came to be known, was the work of a great DEMON KING and his army of DEMON BARONS. They had set forth to conquer the chthonic plane and had the firepower and esprit to do so. The king cut the sea piecewise and split his barons out across many BARONIES, where each would reign terror with their hellish beasts and fiendish knights.
The DEMON KING would wreak havoc for a little over a century until adventurers, with their little guilds and parties, began to set out to conquer the demon king's dungeons and defeat the barons. The demon king was slain by a great hero, the sea freed, tieflings are still subject to hatred, yadda yadda yadda.. you never did great in your history courses at the conservatory, to tell the truth.
“Fine–the dungeon it is, just like the golden age of adventuring. I’d rather not involve myself with the god right now, either.” Your lady sets from her room to get the house in motion, but you stop her.
“Ah–my lady. Do you think it might be prudent to bring the blunderbuss?” You look to the length of nozzle and black powder with curiosity in your eyes, but she snorts.
“What? The gun? No. Dungeons are small. Blunderbusses are loud. We’d blow both our ears out–mine, especially.” The witch points again to her still lewdly large ears. “We’ll stick to casting if any angry squatters pop up. And we ought to bring at least one another, probably two. Get a party together.”
[...]
The GREEN CHAPEL gently rocks back and forth with each step of its chicken legs as it strides across the sea. Your master has set out to a close dungeon, apparently, and you’ve some downtime.
>Engage in a tête-à-tête with Sigrid. You’re always happy for the chance to talk to your lady.>Speak to Molly. You really ought to see if she can talk, or at least try to teach her.>Chat with Bredbeddle. She’s just come here and you might need to make sure she’s not actually stealing anything.>Partake in a dialogue with the elusive Van den Bos. As mute as he is, he's still probably the nicest to you.>Write-In. 