ROLEPLAY

(It's on the Compendium too, but I figured I'd post something in here for a change as well. That way you also don't have to go to the blog if ya don't wanna. Enjoy, and special thanks to Eks for inspiring this!)

* * *

"A round for everyone, barkeep!" the young Fyrosian bellowed with a grin as he entered Fairmarket's tavern. "It's payday for me, so it's payday for you all!"

Ba'dughan Lipsie forced a conciliatory grin as the tavern's few patrons weakly cheered the unexpected windfall. The white-clad newcomer didn't seem to notice, clearly and happily preoccupied as he strode to the bar. Five thousand dappers hit the bar with a clatter, and the attitudes of everyone else present - particularly the newly-wealthy bartender, who was rather dreading having to purchase the mount a patron ran off with last month - noticeably brightened.

"I trust this will cover tab and tip for a while?" the Fyrosian grinned, the smug look in his eyes clearly demonstrating that he knew it would. Ba'dughan had seen that look before in a number of freshman taliari and novice harvesters who struck a lucky supernode - flush with unexpected cash and feeling better than everyone else because of it. Tonight might be pretty good after all.

Lipsie's smile became a little more genuine at the thought as he hopped to the task of pouring seven stinga rums. "I should think so, for a man of your obvious stature!" the tavernkeeper replied with a pseudolight tone. "And if not, we can always figure it out later, eh?"

As the Fyrosian laughed and agreed boisterously to the terms with no one in particular, Lipsie steeled himself for the night ahead. It's already largely worth it with the five thousand down, he thought, and if things get too rowdy, just slip him a little psyklopa and relieve him of the difference I think he owes!

The last had him chuckling to himself softly as he passed out the drinks to the thirsty Fyrosian and his newfound friends. The Fyrosian downed his swiftly, the empty glass threatening to break as it made contact with the bar. The concern and annoyance Lipsie felt passed quickly, his mind focused on making as much off this brute as he could as he refilled the glass.

The Fyrosian accepted the glass with grateful bravado, downed it with a bit of flourish and handed it back to the Tryker before he could even turn around. Clearly, he thought,psyklopa's not gonna do the trick here - I'm going to have to get rid of him quickly if I expect to keep this place intact, let alone turn a profit! Lipsie shuddered slightly at the remembrance of the LAST Fyrosian traveler that had a little too much...

"So, stranger," Lipsie said, changing tactics as he filled the glass a third time. "What's your name?"

"Dainan," said the man, downing the third as quickly as it was handed to him. "Dainan T'Kalian."

Lipsie accepted the empty glass with veiled concern - he was really putting it away. The barkeep's mind silently raced through its list of ways to get rid of a problem drunk just in case. Nothing really seemed like it was fitting here, though. Maybe some more small talk'll give me an answer here, he thought. "Dainan, eh?" Lipsie said, making a note to change the keg as he poured the Fyrosian's fourth drink in a minute as he deftly sluiced off some blowback foam. "We get a few Fyrosians in here from time to time, but I thought I knew all the rich ones! New in town?"

Dainan grinned, the obvious flattery finding its mark about the same time as the alcohol. "Yeah, came in to stake a claim to some of those daps the New Horizon's folk've been throwin' around!" he replied, a little louder than most would if sober. This could get ugly quick, thought the Tryker... and then his grin became quite genuine. He knew how to get this guy out of here. Maybe even squeeze some more out of him in the process.

"The transport people, eh?" Lipsie said, his voice lowering into an exaggerated conspiratorial tone. Dainan took the bait, fighting to focus his slowly-waning attention on the Tryker bartender. A slight knowing twinkle flashed across Lipsie's eyes. All he had to do now was land the fish.

"How would you like to double what you've made so far... on just one mission?"

The slight fog of drunken "clarity" was readily visible as Dainan focused his gaze squarely on the Tryker, leaning in slightly to hear better. "Double, you say? And how would I do that, little guy?"

Lipsie shrugged off the insult, focused on sealing the deal and getting this idiot out of his bar at least five thousand dappers lighter. "The transporters told me they wanted me to hire someone very talented to get a very rare item for 'em - the goo of a ghost."

Dainan's attention snapped, a single eyebrow raised. "The what of a what?"

Lipsie intensified his gaze on the idiot before him, allowing a small sense of urgency to creep into his hushed voice. "Keep your voice down, ya big brute!" he whispered, genuine anger in his voice. Just take the bait already, moron! "If everyone heard about this I'd have a ton of dead patrons all chasing after two million dappers - "

"TWO MILLION DAPPERS?!" Dainan shouted, the patrons only glancing up for a moment before resuming their oblivious reveille. "Are you - "

"Ssssssssssssssshut up!" the bartender whispered furiously through clenched teeth, using the rage he felt at this dressed-up frahar to make his performance seem more genuine. "You wanna know about this or not?!"

Dainan composed himself, convinced by the performance as much as the stinga rum. "Okay, okay,"
 Dainan whispered back. "Let's say I buy this. What am I looking for and where?"

Lipsie fought back a grin, looking furtively about the room instead before answering. "Now, obviously, no one's ever seen this thing, but the transport crew told me it can be found just south of where Musemere Workshop stood. Or rather... that's where it can find you."

Dainan slammed the empty glass onto the bar again, this time with more than enough force to shatter it. "HA!" Dainan laughed in drunken triumph, reaching for his dapper sack as he wheeled, more than tipsy, toward the edge of the platform and away from the bar. "Those dappers're's good 's mine! Here, sorry about your stupid glass!" He threw another handful of dappers haphazardly across the barroom, causing patrons to scramble madly for the free coin. "Thanks again, STUPID!"

Lipsie stood dejected among the chaos that ensued, silently deducting the mounting damages from the five thousand dappers in his sack as passersby, attracted by the Fyrosian's antics and the dappers he threw, joined the raucous free-for-all.

* * *

Dainan arrived at the site of the Musemere Workshop's ruins, almost sober and still cursing himself for not getting more information in his rush to get out here. How am I going to find this thing? he thought, struggling to remember the conversation. Oh, right - it's supposed to "find me". But how?

Dainan sat in the sand, thinking. Was he supposed to just sit here and wait? Was he supposed to do something to cause this ghost to appear?

...did the ghost even really exist?

The realization that he was likely had began to set in. Worthless Tryker. He just wanted the damned dappers - how could I be that damned GULLIBLE?!

A surge of rage burned quickly through the young Fyrosian, and the first thing that caught his attention - the gently-swaying arms of a nearby stinga plant - also drew his rage.

"Blasted stinga," he growled, rising to his feet while mentally uttering the short chant necessary to cast a Rot spell, "THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!"

Completing the incantation with a mental shout, the magical energies flew from Dainan's staff, hurtling toward the doomed plant. It shriveled and died before its meager intellect could even comprehend what hit it.

Dainan snorted derisively, as if he had proven some great point or defeated some massive foe. He turned to leave... and found himself rooted to the ground.

Dainan quickly looked back, expecting to see a plant that had somehow managed to survive his magical temper tantrum - just in time to see an Ice bolt hurtling at him! Caught off guard by its force, the Fyrosian was knocked to the sand, the roots binding him nearly breaking his legs in the process.

Concentrating, he managed to resist the entangling spell, roots relaxing their grip just in time to roll quickly away from another Ice bolt. Where are those coming from?! he thought, scanning the immediate area. Nothing...

A flash of blue caught Dainan's attention just outside his periphery - another Ice spell, but not noticed in time to avoid it. The blast hit Dainan full in the face, an icy numbness slightly dulling the pain of his flesh freezing and cracking slightly, a mere blister compared to what could have been were he not wearing his better resistance jewelry. His mind raced, trying desperately to come up with a way of disclosing his ghostly attacker long enough to draw a bead on it and fight back... somehow.

A new set of roots attempted to snake its way out of the ground, barely missing the adventurer as he dodged just in time. Rolling sideways, he looked up quickly after dodging, hoping to catch a glance of at least the direction of the next attack.

He managed to look up just in time to see it was coming from just in front of him!

Terrified, Dainan leapt backwards far further than he would normally be able to, certain he had just escaped permanent death or possession or something equally unpleasant. He watched, waiting for the next attack. A purplish glow soon emanated from the same spot as the last attack. Suspecting another Root spell, the Fyrosian rolled the dice and prepared to counter one.

He was right. The spell was resisted easily. Something clicked in Dainan's head. He waited, sure he would see only purple or the tell-tale blue of an ice attack... the limited repetoire of, he suspected, something more mundane than a ghost.

A light-blue flash erupted from the same spot, an icy-cold bolt hurtling toward him. He resisted. He knew what he was facing now, even if he didn't know how to actually hit it... or did he?

Dodging another ice bolt, he thought hard. What did Gorran tell him to do all that time ago...?

"Too many adventurers, warriors and spellcasters alike, rely too often on what their eyes tell them. The eyes can betray sometimes, however. Sometimes they cannot see what is there, even if your other senses tell you otherwise. Listen to those senses... clear your mind... and see your target another way."

Another root spell caught him during his reverie, holding him tighter than usual. This thing meant business. It was now or never. Dainan closed his eyes, listened, smelled, heard around him... and fired the biggest Rot spell he could at a point 5 meters to his right.

The previously-invisible stinga caught the blast in mid-cast, its frosty glow slowly receding as the Ice spell it was attempting to cast faded along with its life force. Pulsing in and out of existence, the stinga slowly collapsed to the ground, then began shimmering.

Without thinking, Dainan quickly rolled toward disappearing mass of former life, his quartering blade managing to cut a snippet of one of the plant's buds from its corpse before it faded to nothingness. Dainan sheathed his knife and ran his hand across the sand where the plant once was. Nothing.

But in his other hand, he felt something he could not see. The bud itself was invisible, but still tangible. Carefully, Dainan slipped the strange treasure into its own small pouch on his harvesting bag. He didn't think the transporters would know anything about it - or even that worthless Tryker whom he felt owed him about two million dappers for the trouble here - but he did know someone who might be interested.

Who might have even had a hand in it.

Double-checking to make sure his newfound mystery item was secure, the Fyrosian adventurer rummaged through his scroll case, found the teleport pact for Yrkanis, recited it and quickly faded himself - on his way to see a certain florist.

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(Yes, I'll finish this. It gets quite long, actually! Next installment next week! -bp)