>>5225655>>5225665>>5225679>>5225689>Ask about the man himself. Does he know of any magical curse-breaking techniques?>Look his GRAVE GOODS over.“Mmm. Well.. you must be well-read, then.” You acknowledge the thief with a nod. “..Might you have any familiarity with magic? Spells, or that sort? I’m looking to break a set of cursebound armor, but it’s beyond the pale of any magic I can muster.”
“Mmm.. well, sorry, friend. I’m afraid magic is a muscle–it must be flexed, maintained, and that’s a mite difficult with these.” He raises his cuffed hands. “But if you truly seek to break a curse.. I hear that the pontiff of the RESURRECTIONISTS has made an appearance down here–said she’s here to reclaim a “lost lamb,” y’know. She’s an all too able sorcerer.”
“..I see.” You frown. As recalcitrant as you might be to the idea of cooperation with them, they may be an easy out. You look the man over once more–besides his towers of books and his chains, you spot a few strange artifacts you can’t quite pin down. And, to his right.. an immense ladle, near the size of your flamberge. “..Why do you wear those irons?”
“Oh, these? Yes, well.. do you think I’m here of my own accord?” He laughs, a low, hollow sort that echoes up from his belly. “No. I’m a prisoner here, down in this hole for my crimes. I’m a slippery sort, you see, and found my way here after a few unfortunate mistakes on my part.”
“Right, right.” You grimace. You suppose you can’t expect much more than the unsavory kind down here. “..And.. what is the purpose of that giant spoon?”
“Oh, this?” He laughs with a glance toward it. “It’s a memento, you see. A souvenir from my old residence–the Gong–”
“Yes, yes. Hurry it along” You sigh in exasperation. You’re not eager to hear a convict’s life story. “Show me your goods already.”
“Of course. Take a look over them. I’ll part with one–maybe two, depending on what you’ve chosen.” He smiles.
You see a small, paper pamphlet–stained with strange liquids, “RESEARCH LOG NO. 45/4: PROPERTY OF CORPUS CHURCH.”
A diary. “MILLICENT” is written across the front.
And an old, beaten up journal–in a particularly old script across the top is “CATACOMBS EXPLORATION AND STUDY JOURNAL.”
"Do you, uh.. have any action serials in your inventory?" You lower your voice. "My collection lacks "Tales from the Butcher Block, No. 7, Issue--"
"I do, but I'm rather fond of those, so I'm not keen to give them away." He shoots back. You sigh--you understand that all too well, you suppose.
>Choose the research log.>Choose the diary.>Choose the dungeon journal.>Write-In. 
