Torma heads for the dinner table. " Real food ! Haven't had something better than bland rations for too long. I'll get started ! "
(reinstating time slip). "Damn, I don't have that kind of money on me. I wish I did, cause I'd be on that like a mother...a fu...umm...like stink on sh...err....a skunk."
"I wish I did...did...id...d..." Your voice echos as reality turns inside out for a minute, then there is a bag on the ground at your feet.
Berz looks completely spooked. "It's...it's...uhh...." Berz hesitates, and then hands the piggy demon the sack of money and his axe. "It's YOURS! I take it the cutter'll be ready by morning? Or do I have to use my fallback angel-sword for a day or three?"
"Sweet. 'Night, whitemeat." Berz slips back into the timestream as it is, joining his fellows for dinner and whatnot.
Rantic joins Torma at the table and looks at all the delicious food on it. Torma seems none the worse for wear, so he digs in with a healthy appetite.
(Keep in mind, everyone, that you can chat among your selves. We will move forward when everyone goes to bed.)
Torma eats like an ogre, taking from all the meals around him. He looks at Rantic who joined him: " Sho, you tchanged your mindsh ? "He finishes swallowing his food " Not afraid the food might be poisonned ? "
"Bah! Who cares if it is? It's delicious, and chances are you'll survive. "So, Torma...where are you from? And what's with the very appreciable dedication to killing things with swords?"
"Haven't.." *bite* "..changed my mind at all. It's just.." *chew* "..that I don't really trust this Brax type. But that doesn't mean.." *swallow* "..that the food is poisoned. Just that I'm careful." *gulp* Rantic continues munching and looks at Torma expectantly now that Berz posed him a question.
"Oh well... I can probably tell you at this point, not much to lose." Torma empties his glass of wine. " I thought you would have guessed it from my accent, I am from the South; from the country of Pelycion." He looks at the others, his right hand under the table grasping the pummel of his sword, apparently expecting an aggressive reaction from his companions since his country is known for being hostile to all neighbors for ages. " I was sent in the region with a few others to scout the area. We had no idea such a place was here when we set camp, and... It didn't end well. Now I am just left with vengeance - or killing things with swords as you put it. Especially those diggles."
"Wow...I've never heard that country. But then, I'm from half a world away, so whatever. Sounds like bad luck, but at least maybe we can help you kill the fu...bastard that killed your crew. As for these folks, Rantic is a darky (you can tell), so he expects everyone to hate him. The shorties are pretty normal seeming in that they both want money more than, say, vengeance, fame, or in my case, to save some dude's daughter's spirit...or something. And money, money is good, too."
Slowly, after everyone eats their fill, you all head to bed. After a very restful night, it is morning.
"Braaaaahhh!" Berz stretches. "That was good. Definitely worth 10 gold. I'd do that again. Time to go get my cutter back from snoutface. See you guys at breakfast." Berz does just that, and returns for food time.
