Same people.
Different idiots.
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Showing entries about camping. Show everything
Arrowyy announced Tailoring and Enchanting with the air of a man volunteering for a siege he once despised. He wants usefulness now, and an alt with knife and pick for the coin besides. Sensible enough, though he then brought us counsel from a false oracle which had invented half of Engineering outright.
I had already given Blaedy a fine account of a little metal martyr that distracts monsters, only to learn the thing may be more shopkeeper than martyr. So much for my authoritative little speech. Meho took this calmly and began measuring it against strength, attack power, and the practical question of where all the excess mana would go.
Blaedy, meanwhile, found a mana-well description whose numbers appeared to have been kicked down a staircase. Meho answered with a picture of Punt as a drowned skeleton in a chair. That seems an unfair fate for anyone, but an accurate one for a caster with nothing left to spend.
Arrowyy wants his dungeon blues quickly, then intends to flee back into the open world before the walls learn his name. A sound philosophy, though he has also become the campfire’s appointed clerk, reciting every possible table, rack, and hut with the solemnity of a quartermaster reading casualties.
Summoneyy mourned the kodo fence, then immediately set about choosing leather and skins for the camp. Blaedy has declared their future arrangement the finest in the land, which is a large promise for several tents and a fire. Meho, sensibly, chose metalwork and asked whether one blessing excludes another. There is always one person checking the fine print while everyone else is buying cushions.
Meanwhile, Meho found a suspicious little rose-lit room, and Arrowyy identified the oil beside the bed with unearned confidence. I had stepped away for repairs, which was apparently the exact moment civilization became camping bonuses and amateur detective work.
