Generic Fantasy - [5/7]

"So technicaly you're not just 30. And I'm not senile. You on the other hand are just acting silly."

I start to stretch.

 

"Where are we going?"

 

Thanksgiving break. Sorry. I'll be back sunday.

 

???: "Year? Don't really keep track of it up here... hey, mortal, what year is it down there?"
Zeth: "Uuugh... one thousand.... something. Don't really care."
???: "Helpful. You're on The boss' demiplane, H-34 if you want to be specific."

Backstory took place in an unnamed kingdom to the northwest of the yet-unnamed continent-sized peninsula that Generic Fantasy takes place in, and it's probable that it happened several centuries ago.

You walk through the city, more and more unhinged as the populace flees. Another tremor goes through your feet in the ten or so minutes it takes, and chaos rules supreme.
You don't even need to get checked at the north gate; mobs got to it before you did.

You exit the city for the first time in two days. It's quite nice out here, and the city wall's doing a good job muffling the screaming. You can see the trading post just to the north, maybe half a mile away. It's a ramshackle constuction, a small keep much newer-looking than the city. The north road leads straight to it.

"Sigh. Stupid lousy boss and a stupid, lousy trip."

"Somewhere safe, child."

 

Then I go to it and try to find out if anybody's planning to go to the capital

 

"Will there be other children I can play with :D?"

 

Kewl.

Move towards Zeth, but stay on guard against the other one talking.
"Do you need help?"

 

"You should start you own buisness then."

I jog away.

 

The small keep's courtyard is bustling. Merchants, stalls, people leaving Kyuvaar by the wagonload. There's no need to ask; signs advertising paid escorts are everywhere. The cheapest are a few with a caravan, and adventuring group with a ramshackle wagon, and some rather shady-seeming mercenaries. Other than them, there's the occasional wagonhobo and peddlers, looking for extra money.

"...Maybe."

Zeth: "I'll....I'll be fine in... few hours.... Maybe minutes... hey, servant.. where's your boss?"
???: "You want me to get him?"
Zeth: "Yes."

He easily keeps your pace. Damn youthful vigor.
"errr... forced magic contract. Can't really do that."

 

I'll approach the caravan to ask for transport
Actually is there anyone selling spellboks/ magic theory books?

 

I fall asleep, checking to see if there's anything interesting about their expression.

 

"Hmm..."
"Is it okay to talk during recovery?"

 

"I'm in kinda similiar situation actually. I could try and help you get out of your perdicement."

I keep jogging.

 

Not that you can see, no.
The caravan is one of roughly 7 wagons, led in the front by a rather dignified looking merchant. Approaching him, he tells you that the price is 20 Gold per passenger, and that he doesn't have much space left.

Expression? Could you elaborate?

Zeth: "No.. shutting... shutting up now."
As he says that, he coughs blood one more time. Within 30 seconds, he has passed out.
???: "I'll get the boss." He calls out to another glowing person on the floor. "Hey, Thirty-Seven! Could you get this guy to a bed?"

"You said you were evil maybe thirty seconds ago. Why should I buy it?"

 

Assuming they aren't wearing some form of visor or mask, I look at their face to see if there's any discernible change or still professionally stolid.

 

If matt's still with me I give the merchant 40 gold, if he's not I give 20

 

Look down beside me to make sure Han's next to me before following wherever Zeth is taken.

 

"You thought I was senile. Also you don't become powerful by being nice to everybody. I was once much more powerful and to get that power I did things that would break any normal man. You don't seem normal however, so I might help you break your bonds and flourish with power beyond that of a mere mortal."

 

@HMTN
Are you busy with finals right now? ;~;
Also smol bump since it's been 7 days since last response.

 

She took the fucking kids, YUH!