City of Thieves: 329: NicodemusI

     Ah, nothing like a city to ruin a river. Just dump all your trash and feces and let it flow on away. Makes a smell like death. Literally. Like it stinks of dead bodies. Speaking of, a corpse appears to be slowly making its way downstream. Charming.

The sound of footstep, surely. Guy only has one leg.

     For certain effect, I bang on the door with the hilt of the broadsword. It makes a wonderfully loud noise.

      "Nicodemus!" I holler, "I know you're in there!"

What, no exclamation mark?

Why am I looking at the side of a van?

     I wave the blast of smoke out of my face as the wizard roars is name at me like I'm a dog to be frightened away.

     "Third person? Really?" I say through the smoke, "Is that a thing they teach when apprenticing as a wizard?"

"I owe Owen for pushing the Zoning Committee around when I wanted to build my old tower in Silverton."

     "To escape the please of people on hard times, you fled to a city of beggars and thieves? Who has harder times than these?"

     Nicodemus snorts and waves the comment off, "These people have the hardest times I've come across, which is why they never ask for help, because they never expect it."

     "Couldn't you have just settled in the country?"

      He snorts again, "And be stuck with other retired wizards? Never."

I'm guessing an 747

     I get out my quill and paper and write down his revelations as he speaks them. "Another plane? What does that even-"

     "It means you can't kill him during the day!" the wizard snaps, "Take it from context, fool! Now, where was I...

I'll have to see who does tattoos for kids' parties.

     "Yellow sun, white unicorn..." I mutter as I scribble it down. "Why does that work?"

     "You don't even know what a plane is, and you expect me to properly explain the arcano-thaumaturgical principles behind divine marcation by blood? Just do as I say, don't bother with why."

      I add the words, 'Wizard is a jackass' to my notes.

"the" ground compound, as though he's mentioned it before.

     I guess at least now I know what hag's hair, black pearl and lotus flower were for on the previous player's record.

      "Right," i say, "But you're a wizard living here close to Zanbar-" I can't help the smile, "Bone. I'm sure you don't just know how to kill him, but have everything you need just in case he starts anything."

      "Of course I do!" the wizard shouts, with a burst of smoke in my face. "Just as I know how to deal with uppity adventurers who want to take my defense precautions and get killed halfway through your quest. No, if Zanbar Bone comes to be a problem, I will do what I must to slay him. Until then, my resources are in reserve, as part of my retirement. Just for this impudence, I won't tell you where in town you can find them!"

      I shrug, "Just saying. Could make this all so much easier."

      Nicodemus harrumphs, and then continues.

    I consider thes treets briefly, but Harbour Street, if it is well named, will obviously have more of a market given the naval connections. Perhaps I can just buy the ingredients I need.

Choice: Harbour Street: 91

City of Thieves: 117, 188, 253, 75, 31, 364: Trying to Stay Dry

It appears the rain has triggered a Fleischer cartoon...

     I'm sick of seeing Zanbar Bone's face in the little art bits. I wish this jazzy collection of dancing cartoon houses was used more! It really does feel like a ramshackle and poorly zoned city, which is nice to emphasize. Plus, I think that street vendor is a minotaur or something. Neat.

     Honestly, I like the rain here. It's the kind of thing that makes it feel like time is actually passing in the story. There's a big old world out there full of phenomenon like weather, which have nothing to do with my little adventure. Banging shutters make a good spooky moodsetter, too.

     I may be almost there, but that's no reason to get wet.

Choice: Shelter: 188

Who was farming Green Anacondas, and let the babies out?

     "I'm not going to get wet just to keep you away," I say, raising my sword.

Choice: Fight: 253

6 snakes have 5 Stamina? What, is one of them secretly an old sock?

     I do like that the snakes are weak but do extra damage. It's a nice way to change up a very repetitive system.

Round 1

Hilda: 23

Snakes: 9

Snakes: 5-2=3

     A single sharp swing of the sword, and two snakes lose their heads. "I know you're just scared animals," I say, "So maybe run now."

Round 2

Hilda: 18

Snakes: 14

Sankes: 3-2=1

     "Who even keeps dangerous snakes in a house like this?" I continue musing, as another pair of snake heads roll away.

Round 3

Hilda: 18

Snake: 13

Snakes: 1-2=-1

     I skewer the fifth snake. The sixth lunges, and I crush it under my boot. I scrape off what blood I can and wait for the rain to die down.

Choice: Victory: 75

     Riveting.

     I begin whistling an old tune and trying not to step on the worms. After a time, I realize it's the same tune the bard was playing.

Choice: North: 31 

MUSICAL STING!

     I'm sorry, but every image is just going to be followed by me lavishing dear McCaig with praise. It's amazing! The grim skulls, the choice of the weird demon and the cow, the little snail up front, the tiny shields, the overburdened but determined one legged man! It's all spot on and conveyed with a great sense of the ominous.

     I stop whistling when I see the bridge. They keep warning me how dangerous Nicodemus is, and how unwelcome to strangers. I begin to consider the approach.

Tsk, tski, image clearly shows skulls impaled, not tied.

     I approach the one legged man. He may use this bridge quite often. Perhaps he has some advice about approaching the wizard. I come forward and offer to help him with the sack. He gratefully hands it over to me for to get across the bridge.

Choice: Talk to the Man: 364

      "I have no intention of hurting you," I tell the man at his first shrink away. This declaration loses no small quantity of truth when he takes 2 Gold Pieces from me, and has the gall to give me such paltry information. I heave the sack back onto his back. He staggers, but does not fall.

     "You are lucky your word was more true than others today, even at a steeper cost," I tell him, and then send him on his way. Thankfully, that makes him somewhat less pleased.

GP: 37-2=35

Choice: To Nicodemus: 329

Skill: 11

Stamina: 15/15

Luck: 8/8

Gold Pieces: 35

Provisions: 10/10

Phial of Green Liquid

Throwing Knife

Climbing Rope

Butcher's Meat Hook

Iron Spike

Lantern

City of Thieves: 105, 304, 148, 287, 3, 37, 398, 52, 200, 394, 368: Stalling

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      I really don't want to end up killing a guard dog. Or whatever other beastie is in that kennel. Besides, I have an address now. Got to get to that bridge.

Choice: North: 304

     This is another one of those situations where I'm baffled by the separation of this into two sections. No choice is made, and since all three streets join here presumably all routes converge on this reference, so it's not even like multiple references would lead to 148. Just... why?

Choice: Follow: 148

Going to feed Snow White some poisoned egs, I see.

    Good graces, this image! Yes, yes, and more yes Mr. McCaig. Okay, honestly, I'm not that thrilled by most of it. Bunch of people throwing rotten food at a man in the worst made stocks (seriously, you're supposed to capture wrists, neck and ankles, not knees). What grabs me is the delightful crone front and center. A clawed and gnarled hand holding up the eggs, and that absolutely devilish smile. When do I get to play her game?

     

Somehow less barbaric than our present judicial system.

     What an odd page for no choices... it seems every route leads here, and there's nothing you can do about it, so you are just guaranteed a loss. Oh well. I'd lose the green phial, but technically the game never gave me permission to take it, so I assume that isn't kosher. She'll get a coin, bringing me back down to 55.

     Also, the image is of a stock, but the description says pillory. A pillory only locks the neck and wrists, thus forcing the subject to stand for the length of the punishment.

     Given a choice, I might well have bought the eggs for a coin anyways, just to fit in.

     I thank the lady, and proceed to hit the man with an egg in each eye from across the courtyard. I turn to give her my winning smile, but she's already gone. Just as well, I slip on my helmet and examine the stalls. All this gold is getting heavy.

Choice: Stalls: 287

Presumably playing the Ballad of Henrietta.

     I chuck a Gold Piece over with a smile and begin eating a nice cup full of chestnuts as I listen to the music of the lyre. I may well die to Zanbar *snigger* Bone tonight, so I might as well enjoy the moment.

GP: 55-1=54

Choice: Listen: 3

I'm sure the results are quite measurable.

     I nod and fish out the coins for him. "I can always use more luck," I say cheerily. "Though, if that's your business, you might as well open with it."

     "Why do you think my song was called, 'Come Buy Some Luck'?" he asked.

     "I thought you meant 'come by' as in 'stumble across'."

     "Well, you stumbled across me!"

Choice: Buy Luck: 37

     And Luck goes back to full. This is a good market, so far.

GP: 54-3=51

Choice: Next Stall: 398

Zanbar Bone curses you with terrible scans!

     I consider it, but my burse is heavy enough. "No," I say, "I doubt the best view is had while participating."

Nor is this the best view, though it'll do for a start.

     Never play at feats of strength with a man who tosses a cannonball around in one hand. Again, I have no real complaints for McCaig's art. The smug smile, the power pose, the poor sap with his legs crossed and the weird squiggle of pain coming out of him. It's all solid, evocative art. A part of me wants to play the game for no other reason that hucking a cannonball at that smile! But, Hilda's got nothing to prove.

Choice: Watch a Bit and then Head On: 52

What, no sales pitch, no haggling? How can you not want to haggle?

     It's a curious collection, but I've just been made lucky, so I buy the lot. They wouldn't be here for nothing.

GP: 51-4-2-2-1-3=39

     I smile, having sold the man out, and invite him to enjoy the day. "I recommend the musician in particular," I say pointing at the lucky bard, "He's the real deal."

     The young man smiles and thanks me, and rushes off before I even notice the flecks of dried blood on the knife. I can't help but feel I've just bought some vital evidence of something...

Choice: North: 200

'Madame'... is there a France on Titan? Or is it a translational convention thing?

     "Still lucky," I tell myself, "So it might even be real." Enjoying my day at the market one way or another, I enter.

Choice: Go In: 394

Visions of the future sell cheaper than throwing knives. Tells you something about the economy.

     I fish out two coins and get ready to hear it.

GP: 39-2=37

     Still haven't even dipped into the original 30 payment.

Choice: Fortunes: 368

Yeah, I knew all that. Is the crystal ball just a bug in the Spotted Dog?     

     I resist the urge to pay her again to tell me what she saw last. That's exactly what she wants. She probably pulls that face with everyone, just to get an extra two pieces out of it. That kills her tip right there.

Choice: North: 117

Skill: 11

Stamina: 15/15

Luck: 8/8

Gold Pieces: 37

Provisions: 10/10

Phial of Green Liquid

Throwing Knife

Climbing Rope

Butcher's Meat Hook

Iron Spike

Lantern

City of Thieves: 296, 105: Namesakes and Mistakes

Ah... I think the thievery might take a backseat to the attempted murder here.

     "Really?" I say with a roll of the eyes. "This is what we're doing now? Can't pick a pocket or cut a burse? Just going straight to violent murder? For the sake of the gods, at least stab me in the back rather than attack from the front. Honestly, you must be the worst thieves I've ever seen."

      Naturally, the bigger, and less skilled, of the pair comes charging at the insult.

Round 1

Hilda: 18

Thief: 14

Thief: 7-2=5

     I take off the helm, and use it to knock the sword coming at me aside. The look of recognition and panic on my opponent's face is all the opportunity I need to punch him, the helmet still on my fist. The gaudy horns puncture his clothing, and thin trickles of blood indicate they get further than that.

Round 2

Hilda: 15

Thief: 9

Thief: 5-2=3

     He tries to lift his sword arm again, but I grab the wrist and twist till it clatters to the ground.

Round 3

Hilda: 16

Thief: 13

Thief: 3-2=1

     A swift sweep of my leg and the thief is down on the ground, his thud resounding even before the sword finishes clattering.

Round 4

Hilda: 16

Thief: 13

Thief: 1-2=-1

     A swift kick in the face renders the man unconcious. I turn to his partner. She doesn't seem horribly perturbed by the swift defeat of her mate. No, she's been watching this whole fight. Calculating.

Round 5

Hilda: 17

Thief: 15

Thief: 6-2=4

     A series of thrusts, a couple of swings. She's keeping her distance. She watched how I didn't take out my sword to dispatch her companion, and has mistaken the flare for squeamishness. If I am unwilling to use, or unskilled in the use of, my blade, then this distance will be to her advantage. I play along for a few moments, letting her back me down a bit. Letting her get more aggressive, and then... I bring up my sword, not taking the time to draw it, but simply lifting the scabard from my belt and knocking her blade aside with enough force to send her off balance. A step forward and strike her face with my armored elbow, and her balance fails entirely. Right into the wall.

Round 6

Hilda: 17

Thief: 14

Thief: 4-2=2

      Before she can get out of the position, I shift my scabbard to one hand, hold it along the forearm, and press it against her throat. My other hand grabs her sword arm at the wrist and twists, just like with her partner.

      "Give it up," I say, "You're outmatched and I don't care to murder you."

       She snarls and tries to bite me.

Round 7

Hilda: 18

Thief: 11

Thief: 2-2=0

     "Have it your way." I headbutt the biting mouth in and then leave her to sleep it off in a pile of her own teeth.

     Gods, these people...

Choice: Victory: 147

Unlabeled liquids? Oh boy!

     I consider the vial. Love potion? Poison? Hair gel? Yeah, not worth chugging.

     And apparently taking a test drop or a sniff is out of the question. Keeping the phial, though.

Choice: North: 105

Skill: 11

Stamina: 14/15

Luck: 7/8

Gold Pieces: 56

Phial of Green Liquid

City of Thieves: 93, 62, 136, 270, 26: Hospitality Trolling

     Let's consider the shingle...

      I was not ready for this. I especially wasn't ready for the jean shorts. I feel like they were photoshopped on to undo the Donald Duck look.

      Oh, who am I kidding? Of course Hilda's going in.

Choice: In: 62

      I dig it. Big scary monster's head mounted on the wall, bottles on display, a member of East Enders behind the bar. Game of knifey-finger up front, dwarf chugging in the back, spittoon neatly positioned at his feet. At least... I hope that's a spittoon... awkward place for a chamber pot.

     I really just have one question.

      What the leprosy donkey drinker is this thing? Is it a grinch who got stretched out in the face? A warrior of virtue on hard times? What?

Okay, not all the customers are human, but is the barkeep?

     I don't even stop to check on all the events of the tavern. Plenty of time after I talk to the barkeep about drunk wizards.

Choice: Innkeeper: 136

I... how do you do business in a port city while ignoring the out of towners?

       I give the dagger a smile that conveys just how cute the little thing is. Then I lift up my broadsword, marvelous and sharp and new, and place it point down into the counter. 

       "I'm local," I inform him.

Choice: Fight!: 270

You'd be amazed how many establishments keep their bouncers in the cellar these days.

       Oh, no, a troll!

Looks like something my grandpa would carve...

      The cries of 'Fight!' are like a splash of cold water on my ears. They wake me from the slumber that is the dullness of not being in a fight, and I am laughing joyfully by the time the Troll has fully emerged.

Round 1

Hilda: 17

Troll: 12

Troll: 8-2=6

     With a swift jump to the side I miss the tremendous club as it splinters the floorboards. I strike the troll in the back of its hairy head with the hilt of my blade, and as it staggers forward knee it in the stomach. The creature reels in the agony of the impact.

Round 2

Hilda: 17

Troll: 15

Troll: 6-2=4

        The creature valiantly tries to swing the great club at me, but I jump into the air and flip over the clumsy assault. The dwarves are not so lucky, as their table, their dice, and one of their number are thrown across the room by the impact. I applaud as the dwarf strikes the dartboard. "Bullseye!" I cry. The troll turns to sneer at me, and I strike it with the flat of my blade hard enough to send its teeth flying down its throat. When it coughs and spits them back up, I grab one from the ground and throw it at the dartboard.

      "Shucks," I say as I examine the fang in the board, "Only a double 20. Looks like you win."

Round 3

Hilda: 16

Troll: 14

Troll: 4-2=2

     I duck under the club without turning around. "I don't think I can count that, you've broken the board."

      The inn is filled with laughter that roars louder than the beast as it strikes again in unbridled anger. I once again slip by the club unmolested. I let the jeers of the crowd do the work of destroying my opponent for the moment.

Round 4

Hilda: 17

Troll: 16

Troll: 2-2=0

      The troll shrieks in indignant rage, lifting the hefty club back up into the perfect position. I run forward, leaping into the air, I grab the club and pull it backwards. The troll falls at once off balance, and comes careening, club and all, back to the floor. Back to the very place it already spintered and weakened the floor. I leap back a moment before the full weight of the troll strikes the floor, and the floor in question retreats down into the cellar.

      There is a tremendous crash, then uproarious laughter, and then a strained silence.

      I lean over the hole and peer into the darkness. "You alright down there?" I call. Only a low, pained groan, responds.

      I return my sword to the counter, point first, "Like I said: local."

Choice: Victory: 26

'Unfriendliness'? Is that all?

      I get out my parchment and quill and dutifully scribble down the instructions, even as I try to politely stomach the swill he considers 'his best'. 

      "Wasn't so hard, was it?" I say when he's done talking. "Don't worry," I say as I'm leaving, "If I have any trouble with the directions, I'll be back to confirm them." I keep my hand casually on my sword hilt when I say it. Just in case there's any misunderstanding.

Choice: North: 296

City of Thieves: 74, 116, 250, 342, 289, 5, 83, 322: Fair Trade

Clock street is, of course, where you get your clock cleaned.

      Stuffed alligators, weird flasks and strange herbs don't grow on trees. Wizards have to buy these things, or else live like normal people. Wizards living like normal people usually last about three months before they either correct that or jump off something tall.

       So, someone in the market must know Nicodemus!

Choice: Market Street: 116

Okay, so we've got clocks and glass windows. Anyone taking notes of the tech level?

      Wizards buy herbs!

Choice: Enter: 250

I can't help but feel racial standards of beauty are behind that 'ugly'.

     "Hey!" I say by greeting. My voice echoes oddly through the black helm. "You get many wizards shopping here?"

Choice: Ask about Nicodemus: 342

"Maybe my good friend Prince Humperdink could change your mind?"

      I shrug and pass the Man-Orc a gold as though I've got plenty to spare.

Gold: 30-1=29

Choice: Spend the Gold: 289

I think Hilda is going to make some bad decisions...

      "Yeah, I guess that is all you," I grab the Man-Orc by the head and slam his face down into the counter, "Know. Got me there."

       He lifts himself back up, grabbing his hand-axe and glaring at me. I calmly remove my head, just to watch his eyes widen in panic as he recognizes me.

Choice: Fight!: 5

Thank you for clarifying. I thought the Man-Orc had never held his own axe before this moment.

Round 1

Hilda: 17

Shopkeeper: 16

Shopkeeper: 5-2=3

      While his eyes haven't decided if they're wide enough, and the hand-axe is still at the ready, I slam his head down into the counter again, just for the fun of it.

Round 2

Hilda: 23

Shopkeeper: 12

Shopkeeper: 3-2=1

      The shopkeeper lifts up his head, and takes a desperate swing. I grab his arm and pull him forward, just to grab his head and slam it into the counter again. His nose is bleeding profusely now. Nasty splinters from the counter in his cheeks, too.

Round 3

Hilda: 17

Shopkeeper: 15

Shopkeeper: 1-2=-1

     I twist the arm, the hand-axe clatters to the ground. The shokeeper pleads for mercy. I nod to the pleas. Then I slam his head into the counter.

      "Was it worth the coin?"

Choice: Victory: 371

     And, yoink!

Choice: Heal: 83

The label also lists about a tome's worth of side effects.

      I appreciate the book acknowledging the possibility of the label being a lie, because that is exactly the kind of unfair nonsense these books love to play.

Rolled a 1. Still, that brings me to 14/15 Stamina.

       I rub the mixture into my bruised abdomen and... yeah, it feels better. Time to ransack the rest of the place.

Choice: Keep Searching: 322

      I jingle the sack of coins over the shopkeeper, who is just now groaning back to consciousness. "You can keep the coin," I say, "Thanks for everything." The doorbell rings as I exit, and the Man-Orc doesn't even manage to say anything.

     And that brings me up to 40 gold pieces, despite the 1 lost.

Choice: None: 93