After eight hours of glorious, free, non-rapeful sleep, I left the pirate ship and headed out into the fine, fish-smelling air of the waterfront. I had a shop to visit, and a homosexual Wood Elf’s day to ruin. I decided to wear some of my graverobbed clothes for the occasion.
This time, I tried to use tact when I informed him that his entire inventory had been stolen off corpses. I shouldn’t have even bothered, since the little asshat jumped right down my throat. He accused me of making shit up so that Jensine could get rid of him. This pissed me off. I had just escaped some creepy fuck’s basement of death, and now I was getting verbally reamed by a guy who wore his sideburns in pigtails? I don’t think so.
I practically threw the incriminating book at him, and after he took a look at it, he quickly changed his tune. According to Thoronir, he had no idea where his goods came from. I guess the smell of rotting flesh didn’t tip him off. Also, considering the items in Thoronir’s shop inventory, people are buried with some weird shit. I mean, fruits and vegetables? Gross.
As soon as Thoronir started saying stuff like an apology wasn’t enough to make up for this horrible crime against the dead he had perpetuated, and he wished he could find some way to make it up to everyone, I quickly cut him off at the pass. If he was desperate enough to offer favors to a woman, then he must really be in a bad place. I decided to give him a task much more suited for his particular talents: help me take down Agarmir. Thoronir perked right back up when I said this.
After promising to never, ever, EVER see Agarmir again (not sure I believed that), he told me that Agarmir had put him off earlier, saying he had urgent business elsewhere. Thoronir took this literally, and with the information I had just given him, he decided that Agarmir must be plundering corpses at this very moment. In the middle of the morning in broad daylight. He would have to be seriously dumb. But hey, the guy had blood and other horrible evidence in his basement and only an Average level lock on the door, so we’re not talking about genius level thinking here.
I wasn’t going to risk confronting an unstable freak while wearing my fine clothing of the dead, so I changed into my formidable leather armor for the occasion. To the graveyard!
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