You wake up the next morning with every one of your brain cells in open revolt over last night's decisions. You apparently tried to remove some of your clothes but abandoned the attempt halfway. As you indecently roam the room in search of where your skirt landed, you reason that Lyrrica must have been successful in negotiations last night. Your purse is still full of silvers, but your coppers are all gone, so maybe not entirely successful. Still, you definitely had a good time last night.
Staggering out to the arranged meeting place you run into Horton, who is moving like he lost a fight with a gorgon last night. His pose of post party suffering is comical enough to make you snort a laugh, but this aggravates your own headache. Misery, as it turns out, loves company.
The two of you continue on at a glacial pace, arriving at the meeting place on time in spite of your world-rending-head-spite. What you see waiting for you annoys you even more. Mal and Lyrrica are energetically stretching out bright eyed and, in at least one case, bushy tailed. Mal you can understand, but what witchcraft did Lyrrica pull to make this happen? UNFAIR!
“Greetings!” Mal booms, “What quest shall we undertake this fine...URK!” The Nekon is cut off mid sentence as Horton trods on one of his feet. “Take not your frustrations out on me, friend! Your suffering is of your own making!”
An unintelligible grunt is the only response the halfling gives as he squats on the ground with his head between his knees. You don’t worry at all at the bickering between the two. While your party was newly formed, the two apparently knew each other from a border war that happened nearby. The brotherhood forged in arms was much stronger than a bad morning could break. Mal’s question was a good one, though. Every other party of your level of skill will be out hunting dire weasels today, so that’s not a great option.
Rubbing the sleep from your eyes you read a few unappealing and risky requests from the board before Lyrrica’s arms wrap around you and a vial of foul smelling liquid is dangled in front of your face.
“Morning sunshine. Care for a pick-me-up?” Lyrrica twirls away and produces another vial, getting the Halfling Crusader’s attention as well. “Now these are expensive and hard to make. Even for you guys, I can’t just give them away. I bring this up because there’s a nice quest on the board for hunting up some alchemical ingredients. They’re kinda tough to harvest, so we’d all need to be on our game.”
Horton’s hands are already reaching out as if Lyrrica was some sort of angel sent from heaven. You hesitantly look at the quest sheet in Lyrrica’s hand. It looks like you’ll all be getting wet. The pay is good enough to justify it though. After making sure you’re not giving up your cut for the potion, you throw in. Poor Mal, he’ll have it the toughest with his armor… or he might have to shed it entirely. You raise an eyebrow at Lyrrica and get a very unconvincing look of innocence in return.
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***
“WHY?” Lyrrica shouts from your side of the lake. You’re having fun seeing the tease react to her careful plan being foiled. That being said, it is very odd that Mal is still wearing his helmet as he dives for the next bit of pond lichen that Lyrrica has you out and collecting. You stand watch on your side, Horton on the boys side. Carnivorous fish live in these waters and are a danger to the ones doing the collecting. Soon it will be your turn to dive again.
“He’s swimming right? It only makes sense to take off your helmet right?” Lyrrica can’t seem to get over not seeing the Nekon’s face. You admit you’re more curious as to how he got his chestplate off without removing the bucket helm.
Suddenly Horton cries out in warning before launching himself towards your blindside with a force blast from his feet. Due to his small size the crusader flies like a ballista bolt to the water behind the rock you are perched on. After the splash, the halfling climbs up onto the rock holding a fish that’s almost as big as he is. The fish is a very radiant silver, you’ve never seen anything like it before.
“Was coming right at you. Wouldn’t have noticed it if not for the sun flash.” Horton says as he places the stunned fish onto the rock. The silver trophy fish seems to come to its senses as it is laid down on the rock. Instead of the panicked flopping one would expect, the fish instead curls up into a ball… and shouts…
“DON’T FILLET ME BRO!”
Horton, Lyrrica and you are completely stunned at this and say nothing for a bit.
“Did that fish just speak?” Mal says as he wades towards you. Suddenly the fish starts speaking again.
“Seriously, I wasn’t gonna bite or nothing! You were just kicking up a lot of bugs! I eat bugs man! Don’t fillet me!” Now the fish won’t shut up. “I probably don’t taste good anyway! I’m super full of mercury! Uh, um, I know! What if I grant you guys a wish when you let me go?”
“OI!” An assertive yet high pitched voice rings out catching all of you by surprise again. Turning you see two rough looking, yet extremely diminutive men emerge from the grass at the water's edge. Their bright orange hair contrasts starkly with the green formal outfits the two wear. Both carry tiny shillelagh as if they are familiar with their use. Your group stares blankly at the two tiny men trying their hardest to look intimidating.
“Can you believe this, Seamus? Even after we warns him, all nice like, that we’re the only ones what grant wishes around here, he goes and starts edging back in on the business!” One says in his high pitched register.
“Tis nuthin’ short of rank betrayal, it is. Like spitting in our faces when we’s only tryin’ to help him stay out of trouble innit? You lot, hand over the fish an pretend ye didn’ see anythin.”
You silently review the life choices you have made leaving you to the decision to listen to a fish… or two thugs who would have a hard time threatening your ankles…