[Quiet Man Cometh]

"I don't think she really cares who it was. Hopefully no one wanders by while she's down there."

[Gallagher]

"Who cares about them? She's still going to be in our guild, assuming she doesn't shoot us all before we get back."

[Quiet Man Cometh]

“We could appeal for a transfer?”

Syrgei rests his elbows casually on his knees. “So, do you have a story? Why are you in the guild?”

[Salone]

Dan began to quietly pack up his turret, getting the tight apprehensive feeling in his muscles that he may perhaps be in for a thrashing. Deciding he should maybe apologize to Tsaerri, he quietly slinks away in the direction he saw her go.

Dan, do you have a death wish?

No, thought Dan. He did not.

The voice laughed.

[Gallagher]

That should go well, Gamby thought as he watched Dan wander off, acting as odd as ever. He shook his head and looked at Syrgei. "Adventure, helping people, maybe a bit of gold. The usual reasons, I suppose."

[Quiet Man Cometh]

"I suppose they are."

[Suzerain of Sheol]

I cannot believe... scrub scrub scrub I am washing my hair... scrub scrub scrub In the river... scrub scrub "Ow!" Tangle. Scrub Publicly naked!!!

She'd managed to get the slime off her skin easily enough, but the hair was proving a nightmare. If I have to cut it off someone is actually going to die. Do we have a phantasmal hair spell? I can't remember... Not to mention the fact that her clothes were absolutely ruined. Obviously, none of them had a clue how much stuff like that cost.

She hit another tangle and it really, really hurt. Quite without meaning to, Tsae started to cry, and a glance back at that awful outfit she was going to have to wear only made it worse.

Sniffling, she went back to stringing out lengths of her hair and scrubbing them in the water.

[Salone]

Eduardo withdrew in on himself, producing an exquisite journal and self contained writing utensil. Opening the journal, he flipped to an empty page, choosing to ignore the fact that he was writing his thoughts on a processed version of his own skin.

Dear Diary,

Today I set out on my excursion with the previously mentioned guild that I will be patronizing. Results have been...mixed. We toured farmlands earlier to start the ordeal with, and were beset upon by bandits. While every person of the group brings something unique to the table, I fear their divisiveness and lack of regard for each other will be their undoing, and fear for their professionalism. Most of all, I fear for the one called 'Gambooge', as his legs have been the target of the loose siege weapon known as Tsaerri. She is a terrifying Mesmer, and I now know that they are simply not party tricks to be hired for my birthday, as I have been doing for the last ten years.

I am concerned about the Charr. He never addresses me and rarely speaks to others, but every situation he comes across reminds him of something else, and throws him in to a rage. I watched him beat a man to death across the face with potatoes. It took several minutes. The man most likely deserved it, as he was attempting to burgle the farm we came across. And while they were more than adequate to dispatch the bandits we have met, their clashing and sudden feelings of morality for those they slay leaves me wondering if perhaps I have made a mistake. We are currently taking a break after dispatching some sort of creature known as an 'ooze', a jelly thing with no motives in life. The mesmer is off purging herself from the uncleanness of one, while the others lick their wounds. Or in Gambooge's case, shins. The amount of collateral damage they cause is also staggering. The charr with the PTSD symptoms carries a flamethrower of all things. I shudder to think what his lack of discretion could lead to with such a thing.

I eagerly await to see what will happen when Tsaerri returns. She seems to have a spat with the economically challenged one, Syrgei. He appears to be helpful, but she rebuffs his assistance and retorts against him most violently. I am confused, but am given to suspect that it may be part of the human mating ritual. What odd creatures, designed so imperfectly they must absorb raw materials from other humans. Rather flawed design, but it cannot be helped. I just hope her feelings for attraction to this...er, specimen do not interfere with the work she has been employed for.


He looked up, thinking to himself.

I believe in the circumstances when one human is attempting to mate with the other, it is customary for friends and associates to bestow gifts upon them. I shall present her with a tribute to show my approval. I hope one thousand gold is an appropriate amount, I can never remember if it has enough zeroes.

[Gallagher]

And that, it seemed, was it. The thief didn't look like he was about to say anything more, and when he twisted to see what Ed was doing, he saw the sylvari scribbling away in some book. His diary, most likely. Even Bag, Gambooge could see when he twisted around the other way, was occupied with stomping all over whatever blobs of green hadn't melted into the ground yet. "Seriously?" he muttered, standing despite how much he wanted to wallow in his misery. He couldn't very well do that when everyone else was practically doing the same. "Come on, this is ridiculous! I swear to the Gods, it's like none of you have ever been out of the city before! Between you, Mister Fire-one-arrow-and-call-it-a-day, and that trigger happy princess, I'm going to end up like Dan before the day's out! You don't put out fires, you don't dare touch oozes, and you won't even hold a conversation for more than ten seconds! I might as well go around with a sack of rocks. At least I could use them!"

[Salone]

Eduardo looked up from his diary, watching the dramatic display. He added the note "Gambooge wines. And I do not men the alcohol." to his diary before snapping it shut and standing.

"HWhat seems to be the problem, Gambooge?"

[Gallagher]

"No," Gamby answered, spinning on his heel to point at Eduardo, "I'm not going to start on you. The problem is that we should've been off doing something interesting by now, but instead, we're struggling with these chores. Here I thought, 'Oh, we can just check for any issues, squash some oozes, loosen up before we face any centaurs'. But no, apparently I can't leave this group alone for five minutes without someone doing literally the only thing you shouldn't with oozes and getting soaked!"

[Quiet Man Cometh]

Syrgei raises one eyebrow above the rim of his sunglasses. "Can you blame me for not being very chatty when most of what I've said so far has resulted in insults and pistols pointed in my face?" He looks over at Gambooge.

"Well, the oozes are a new one for me. Pest eradication is not my usual line of work. Dan seems capable enough with machinery. Perhaps we can fix the pipes up before we move on, and take care of some of this mess." Syrgei looks down at his feet, where green-tinted water pools around his boots. "The broken pipe has taken care of the fires."

[Gallagher]

"Uhm. No." When Gambooge looked at the thief again, he crossed his arms. "I took care of the fires when you two were arguing. Remember that bit, and how you asked me to fix things for you?"

[Quiet Man Cometh]

"Oh, at the farm you mean. I thought you meant..." he points behind him to the scorched areas around where the flame turret had been. "Thank you for that, by the way, though I suppose I should get you a drink at least for your trouble so far. Not going to bruise too badly, I hope?"

[Gallagher]

He frowned and looked where the turret had been. Oh. Right. Gambooge shrugged and shifted his weight to one side, kicking a foot in the mud. "It'll probably be awful. A drink or three wouldn't hurt, though."

[Quiet Man Cometh]

"Next time we're in town, then." Syrgei stood up, putting his hands on his back and stretching, then surveying the damage. "So, where do we start?"