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It’s mid-morning somewhere northeast of Elfland Square and you’re feeling a bit lost.

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A little over an hour has passed since you bailed out on meeting up with Lumia. After that embarrassing display, you decided to follow up on your only other big lead: the pipe organ supposedly located on the Windswept Isles.

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You swapped your Invigorating Elixir with Mr. Spry for the Suspending Solution and an acorn, and set out for where the Windswept Isles are marked on your map. So far, however, you haven’t had much luck. Honestly, who’d have thought finding a giant, hovering rock would be so difficult?

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You settle down in the indescript Elflandic countryside and take some time to think this over.

Could your map be out of date? You sure hope not, since you paid a whopping twenty elfbucks for it just a couple months ago. Or maybe the problem is that the islands are migratory, drifting around on the wind? Perhaps if you wait around long enough, one will come floating past and you can climb aboard. Or something like that—you actually have no idea what the Windswept Isles look like or how the whole flying deal works, but it’s not like you’ve ever let your own ignorance stand in the way of your plans.

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In the meantime, you figure you’ve got some time to kill while you sort this out. You take out the Big Book of Frustratingly Vague Riddles and bring up the encrypted list of ingredients again.

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Three down, three to go—if you’re being generous, anyway. Only 3R, 3C, and 4C remain unanswered, but considering you had to have Myzo figure two of them out for you, you’re beginning to worry these riddles might never get solved.

You’re certain that somewhere out there in the Promised Legoland, Weird Uncle Ollie is laughing at you, the cheeky bastard.

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Maybe it’s time you stop trying to play Uncle Ollie’s games and solve this your own way instead.

ROSALYN: “My name is Rosalyn Nightshade, and I want to know the answers to the three remaining riddles you told me earlier.”

You open the book to page 2.

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Hmm. You didn’t think the book would call you out like that, but at least now you know that it possesses some degree of sentience. Maybe you can use that to your advantage?

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ROSALYN: “My dear, sweet Book of Frustratingly Vague Riddles, my name is Rosalyn Nightshade, and I would be ever so grateful if you'd tell me the answers to the three remaining riddles you told me earlier, please?”

You turn to page 10.

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A lot of nerve for a pile of processed plant matter.

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ROSALYN: “My name is Rosalyn Nightshade, and are you really sure you don’t want to give me the answers? This is the last time I’m asking nicely.”

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Okay, that does it.

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ROSALYN: “You asked for this, pal. I’m Rosalyn Nightshade and I want to know the exact chemical equation for a reaction between mushroom extract and powdered crystals! Oh, and make sure it rhymes.”

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You check to make sure it’s writing out a properly rhymed riddle in response, and then you rapidly open and shut the book several dozen times in a row while asking it various other excruciatingly technical questions. Finally, after a straight minute or two of this, you stop to see what it has to say.

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Ha, that serves it right.

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ROSALYN: “Not so quick with the rhymes now, are you? Ready to give up?”

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You wish it didn't have to come to this.

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ROSALYN: “My name is Rosalyn Nightshade, and I want to hear some answers without any of your shitty riddles or rhyming nonsense. Got it?”

You turn to the newly christiansened page 12.

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Why that little, papery—

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oh, wait

never mind

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Just as the book said, right over your head looms an island, floating atop the clouds high in the blue sky. The blue is, of course, implied, as are the sky and the clouds, but the height is very, very real. Something tells you that climbing up there isn’t an option.

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ROSALYN: “My name is Rosalyn Nightshade and I want to know how to get to the Windswept Isles.”

You try to open the book to page 12, but the covers boldly resist your attempts to pry them apart.

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When you finally do manage to open it an inch or so, the book immediately snaps shut on your fingers! To be fair, though, you probably deserved that.

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If only you could fly, or at least jump really high. Or maybe if you had some kind of stairway, you could—wait, no, that sounds like a terrible idea.

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You'll need to get up there somehow, but with no other apparent recourse, you give the Windswept Isles one last look and set off once more for Elfland Square.

——————

Pausing here for tonight. Six scenes remain, which will go up one at a time for the next couple of days.

Where is Sophie and her magic jumping potion when you need her?

>>2803634
>THE WORMS
It's a sign.
What was, will be. What will be, was.
The Worm loves us.

>>2803673
I love your poetry, man.

Hypnotic as always

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Your first destination is Flamy’s forge.

FLAMY: “Yo, welcome back! What can I do for ya?”

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ROSALYN: “I’m in the market for a key.”

FLAMY: “I got just the thing. This lock and key set will cover all your security needs, and it’s just fifteen elfbucks!”

ROSALYN: “That’s great, but actually I just need the key. Could I buy it on its own?”

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FLAMY: “I guess, but then you’re losing out on the bundle pricing.”

ROSALYN: “I’m sure I’ll survive somehow.”

FLAMY: “If you insist. Ten elfbucks, then.”

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ROSALYN: “Five elfbucks and a magic crystal?”

FLAMY: “Mmm, five elfbucks and two magic crystals, and I won’t ask any questions about why you need a key to a lock you don’t own.”

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ROSALYN: “Deal.”

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Next, you head up to the post office to see if Myzo’s there.

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Unfortunately, he doesn’t seem to be in at the moment. He must be back at the lab, hard at work developing his new fuel formula. You had hoped he might be able to give you a ride on the phantasmal chariot up to the Windswept Isles, but you suppose you should have known better than to try and interrupt scientific progress. You’ll have to come up with a different plan.

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OWLYVER: “Greetings, Miss Nightshade. No packages in for you today, I’m afraid.”

ROSALYN: “Actually, I’m here to send one. There’s something I need shipped up to the Windswept Isles.”

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OWLYVER: “Certainly. Approximately how much does this parcel weigh?”

ROSALYN: “Three grams, maybe?”

OWLYVER: “Quite the delivery. The postage will be fifteen elfbucks.”

ROSALYN: “That’s awfully steep.”

OWLYVER: “Then perhaps you should try carrying it up there yourself. I assure you, it's not easy on the wings. Also, I need to know whether this package contains any hazardous or contraband materials.”

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ROSALYN: “Nope; just me!”

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OWLYVER: “…you do realize that shipping a living being is a violation of Elfland postal law?”

ROSALYN: “Come on, Owlyver. Just this once?”

OWLYVER: “Rules are rules, Miss Nightshade!”

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ROSALYN: “Okay, okay. But, hypothetically, if I wanted to buy a really big shipping container—”

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The intensity of Owlyver’s glare shames you into silence.

OWLYVER: “If you wish to travel to the Windswept Isles, I suggest you find a different courier. And, if I may add, a considerably larger one.”

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With that said, he shoos you out of the post office. Rats; you’re starting to run out of options.

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HIDEE: “You look troubled, 6191594-33833.”

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ROSALYN: “That’s not my name, that’s correct, and augh don’t pop up out of nowhere like that, respectively.”

HIDEE: “Rest easy. Even your anguish will soon be wiped away in the moment of uncreation.”

ROSALYN: “That’s… not as reassuring as you think it is.”

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HIDEE: “Take solace in it, or don’t. It changes nothing. The eleventh hour draws near, and soon it will all be mice and pumpkins. Speaking of which, buy a pumpkin? Five elfbucks.”

ROSALYN: “I’m actually kinda broke right now.”

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HIDEE: “Then just take one. Money’s only good for the living anyway.”

ROSALYN: “Thanks?”

HIDEE: “You’re welcome. Oh, and some free advice too.”

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HIDEE: ”DON’T CLOSE YOUR EYES.”

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And suddenly she’s gone again. Wow, total camouflage. You truly have no idea where she went, and considering her penchant for incredibly unsettling and unsolicited remarks, you don’t really want to know either. You're going to have enough trouble sleeping tonight as it is.

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As you lug your free pumpkin down to your cart, you ponder your predicament to take your mind off Hidee’s parting words. How will you ever be able to make it up to the Windswept Isles?

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Maybe if you take your cart and put your boat on top of it, you could make a sort of catapult? Or if you had enough beetles, maybe you could bribe the goblins into bringing you the catapult from the village. Of course, then you’d need to find a way back down…

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What a bother this is turning out to be. But at least now you’ve got your lunch settled. Since you’ve got some time to kill, maybe you’ll try roasting the pumpkin today. Even Sapphire couldn’t possibly criticize you for—

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…oh.

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This whole time, the answer was right in front of you.

>>2805630
>Start hugging animals on printed flyers in hopes of looking adorable enough that sympathetic dummies take pity and help for free...


Or get a goddamn dragon!

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A few hours later, you return to the Windswept Isles with a freshly brewed potion in hand.

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You give it another sniff, partly to make sure it hasn’t gone stale and partly for old times’ sake. It’s been ages since you last tried making one of these, but it smells as delicious as ever.

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Once you’ve found a good spot where the breeze will carry the potion’s scent, you hold it high over your head and chant the magic words.

ROSALYN: “Here, dragon! Here, dragon! Heeere, dragon!”

You really hope that’s how the Summon Dragon spell went, anyway. Maybe you should have sprung for an actual copy of Drake Ashenscale’s book instead of just reading the BURPNotes.

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SAPPHIRE: “Okay, okay, what’s the situation this time?”

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ROSALYN: “Sapphire! You came!”

SAPPHIRE: “I am kinda honor-bound by the terms of our pact to answer your call.”

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ROSALYN: “You mean you came just for me?”

SAPPHIRE: “…well, there was the Venal Vial too.”

ROSALYN: “Ha, I figured. Here; open up.”

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You toss the whole Venal Vial into Sapphire’s maw and she chomps down on it contentedly.

ROSALYN: “I still can’t believe you eat the glass too.”

SAPPHIRE: “What can I say? It gives it a nice crunch.”

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ROSALYN: “I’m just so glad to see you.”

SAPPHIRE: “Good to see you too. But let’s get the business out of the way: you need my help with something, yeah?”

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ROSALYN: “Wait, how’d you guess?”

SAPPHIRE: “Come on, Ros. When was the last time you ever called someone up just to chat?”

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ROSALYN: “Well, you’re not wrong…”

SAPPHIRE: “You never change, huh?”

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ROSALYN: “Look who’s talking! I had that Venal Vial uncorked for, what, all of two minutes before you showed up?”

SAPPHIRE: “Well, I was in the area. There’s this guy I’m seeing and—”

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ROSALYN: “Ooh, a boyfriend?”

SAPPHIRE: “Sorta? His name is Thorne and it’s complicated, but—well, I’ll fill you in on all the details later. For now, what’s the mission?”

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You point up at the Windswept Isles.

ROSALYN: “So, I’m brewing this potion and it turns out I need some pipe organ music for it. I heard there’s a school with an organ up on the Windswept Isles; think I could get a ride there?”

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SAPPHIRE: “Yeah, I reckon I can do that. Climb aboard!”

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You hoist yourself up onto Sapphire’s back and situate yourself in the saddle.

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ROSALYN: “Upgraded to the two-seater, huh?”

SAPPHIRE: “Yup. That’s from when I was doing some, uh… mildly unauthorized taxi work a while back.”

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ROSALYN: “Mildly unauthorized? Don’t tell me I’ve been a bad influence on you, Sapphire.”

SAPPHIRE: “I mean, I’d have done it legally if I could, but I never did end up getting my flying license. Speaking of which, you probably wanna grab on tight right about now.”

ROSALYN: “Wait, you still don’t have your fl—”

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ROSALYN: “—aaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”

>>2805756
>instead of just reading the BURPNotes
Ha

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What feels like a lifetime later, you finally come to a halt somewhere up among the implied clouds.

SAPPHIRE: “And here we are!”

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ROSALYN: “Th—thanks for the lift…”

SAPPHIRE: “Don’t mention it! Especially not to the Bluebears.”

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You stop to regain your bearings and take a look around. The Windswept Isles Academy of Music is cute, but it’s definitely not quite as illustrious as Querti Ripplemere made it out to be. Perhaps he rocked them so hard they never recovered. Or, more likely, he just made up his entire life story. You may never know.

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You knock at the front door.

ROSALYN: “Hello? Is anyone here?”

No response.

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SAPPHIRE: “This place looks kinda abandoned if you ask me.”

ROSALYN: “According to my information, this is supposed to be a bustling school of music. Or was, anyway.”

SAPPHIRE: “‘Was’? And when was that exactly?”

ROSALYN: “…174 Elandra…”

SAPPHIRE: “Right, so over two hundred years ago. Ever considered they might have closed since then?”

ROSALYN: “If they have, then I guess there’s no one to stop us poking around inside for a bit, right?”

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You open the door and enter the academy. Inside, you find exactly what you’d hoped to see: a pipe organ, just as Querti Ripplemere described! Maybe he wasn’t quite so full of shit after all.

SAPPHIRE: “Find anything good? Like, I dunno, some gourds or maybe some fresh fruit?”

ROSALYN: “Even better! Check out this pipe organ!”

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You press down on the keys and wait for the harmonious blast of sound to erupt from the pipes, but nothing happens.

SAPPHIRE: “So, is that, like, the dog whistle of organs?”

ROSALYN: “Uh, I’ve probably just got the wrong keys. How about… this!”

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You slam both hands down on the keyboard, but again, silence.

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ROSALYN: “...maybe I have to blow into the pipes?”

???: “Enough of this, young lady.”

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???: “That organ is not a toy, and this school is no place for dilettantes.”

ROSALYN: “Is this the Windswept Isles Academy of Music?”

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???: “Aye, and I’m its headmaster, Sebastian. Though it pains me to say that the acadamy has been in a state of… decline since that terrible infant Querti. Hmm, or was it ‘infant terrible’?”

SAPPHIRE: “Enfant terrible. With an ‘e’. Blame the Bluecoats.”

ROSALYN: “Anyway, go on.”

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SEBASTIAN: “I was but a child myself at the time, yet I remember it distinctly. It was just after my dear friend Singlin—Godt rest his soul—had graduated that he came along. Oh, that Querti had a gift for music, I admit, but he had no respect for the arts! And, for that matter, no concept of object permanence either. He treated our instruments like mere playthings, and within a year, that monstrous brat had chewed and smashed his way through every last instrument we owned!”

SAPPHIRE: “Wow. Bet that sounded like hell.”

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SEBASTIAN: “It sounded beautiful. Beautiful, yet awful.”

ROSALYN: “So is that why the pipe organ’s busted?”

SEBASTIAN: “Aye. The bellows blew out after his third performance. We’d have fixed it, but there were so many other broken instruments to replace. We had to downsize to just one flying island to pay off our debts. Do you have any idea how much a quality flute is worth?”

ROSALYN: “Several dozen elfbucks?”

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SEBASTIAN: “More than your life.”

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SEBASTIAN: “Alas, this poor organ will likely never play again. Oh, but to hear its sweet sounds once more…”

Sebastian trails off, lost in reminiscence.

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ROSALYN: “Don’t suppose you’ve met any organ repair specialists in your travels?”

SAPPHIRE: “Can’t think of any. So is this a dead end?”

ROSALYN: “Not if I can help it!”

SAPPHIRE: "Wow, Ros. I’m not used to seeing you so worked up.”

ROSALYN: “You know, it’s been a really long couple of days. Anyway, here’s my plan…”

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A minute or so later, you turn back to address Sebastian, who in the meantime seems to have totally forgotten about you.

ROSALYN: “Hey, hate to break your train of thought, but I got a question.”

SEBASTIAN: “Hmm, yes?”

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ROSALYN: “If I could get your pipe organ temporarily working again, would you play us a tune?”

SEBASTIAN: “To play this organ once again would thrill me to my very core, but fixing this instrument is no simple task.”

ROSALYN: “Don’t sweat it; I’ve got an idea. I just need to know where the bellows intake is.”

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SEBASTIAN: “It’s carved into the tree on the side of the building.”

ROSALYN: “Perfect! Sapphire, if you would.”

SAPPHIRE: “...I hope this works.”

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SAPPHIRE: [huffs; puffs; attempts not to blow house down]

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ROSALYN: “You should have a bit of air now. Give it a try?”

SEBASTIAN: “I suppose it couldn't hurt."

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Sebastian turns back to the organ and presses one key with his toe. From the pipes comes a long, sharp note!

SEBASTIAN: “Oh! What a magnificent sound!"

ROSALYN: "See, what'd I tell you?"

SEBASTIAN: "It stirs my soul! The organ plays once more, and so must I!”

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Engulfed in the throes of his musical passion, Sebastian launches into a complex song—as complex as he can manage with his limited appendages. This must be the “piping hot” referenced in the riddle!

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You open the bottle of Suspending Solution and hold it up to the organ while Sebastian plays. It seems the base works quite literally: you can see each individual note as it settles into the blue liquid and solidifies.

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Finally, Sebastian’s piece concludes with a somewhat wistful chord that sinks deep into the Suspending Solution, and you cap the bottle again.

ROSALYN: “That was beautiful.”

SAPPHIRE: “That was a lot—a lot of air…”

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SEBASTIAN: “Ah, it puts my soul at ease to hear that song from once more. You have my deepest gratitude. Thanks to you, my great wish is finally fulfilled.”

ROSALYN: “No problem!”

SAPPHIRE: “Speak for yourself. Though I am happy to help.”

SEBASTIAN: “Please, wait there but a moment. I have a gift for the two of you, to repay your gracious favor.”

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Sebastian ducks out of the room, and from downstairs comes the sound of someone rummaging through a bin.

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After a minute, he reemerges bearing with a bow emblazoned with the symbol of wind. It looks regal, and somehow very familiar.

ROSALYN: “Is that—”

SEBASTIAN: “Aye, the Bow of the Breeze, one of the Arms of Elfland. In ancient times, the elves of the Wind Clan called the Windswept Isles their home, and this is what remains of their legacy. Even in the worst of times, the academy’s board couldn’t bear to sell the bow, but as I am now the only remaining member of the faculty, I think there should be no issue if I grant it to you as a boon. I am certain that you'll have much more use for it than I.”

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ROSALYN: “Thank you, headmaster. I’ll take good care of it.”

SEBASTIAN: “I don't doubt it."

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SEBASTIAN: “And now, if you ladies will excuse me, this old bird needs to rest his bones—I’m not nearly as young as I once was, But if you’ll visit again sometime, I’d be happy to play you another song on the organ. That is, if you’d be willing to lend me a little wind.”

SAPPHIRE: “Sounds like a deal.”

SEBASTIAN: "Marvelous well. I wish you safe travels, wherever you may be headed."

ROSALYN: “Take care!”

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You leave Sebastian to his nap and step out onto the front steps, now with your Suspended Chord and the Bow of the Breeze in hand.

SAPPHIRE: “Got a little more than you came here for, eh?”

ROSALYN: “You can say that again. And, before I forget, thank you for your help. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

SAPPHIRE: “You brewed me a Venal Vial; it was the least I could do. Now, where to?”

ROSALYN: “Home?”

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SAPPHIRE: “Yeah, I could go for that.”

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After a quick stop to pick up your cart, you return with Sapphire to the Healing Hideout.

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SAPPHIRE: “Looks the same as ever around here. A lot dustier, though.”

ROSALYN: “Like I said, it’s been a busy few days.”

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SAPPHIRE: “So, you’re still doing the whole potion thing, huh?”

ROSALYN: “Well, you know, after this job is done, I’ve been thinking I might actually take a break from selling potions. It’s been… more stressful than I expected, let’s just say.”

SAPPHIRE: “You’ve always had an eye for trouble.”

ROSALYN: “Yeah, and that’s how I met you.”

SAPPHIRE: “Ha, very funny.”

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SAPPHIRE: “You know, when I saw you down on the ground in the middle of nowhere, waving around the Venal Vial, I was really worried for a bit. I thought maybe you’d gotten yourself into a mess you couldn’t get out of. The last time I’d seen you, you were—”

ROSALYN: “Yeah, yeah, I was a pretty sorry sight, I know.”

SAPPHIRE: “But I’m happy to see you smiling again. I really am.”

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ROSALYN: “Thanks for coming, Sapphire.”

SAPPHIRE: “Any time.”

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ROSALYN: “So, now that you’re here, can I get you some dinner? Something to drink?”

SAPPHIRE: “That sounds lovely, and I'd love too stay, but I should probably be heading out now. I have this dinner with Thorne tonight and—”

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ROSALYN: “A date? Got it; say no more. But... just make sure you bring this Thorne over sometime so I can meet him.”

SAPPHIRE: “Will do. Till then, try not to get yourself into too much more trouble.”

ROSALYN: “I’ll try, but no promises.”

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SAPPHIRE: “See you later!”

ROSALYN: “Fly safe!”

You watch her go until she vanishes into the far reaches of the sky.

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You miss her already.

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Still, you’re glad you had a chance to see her again; to know that she’s doing okay; that she doesn’t hate you. The weight on your chest is a little lighter for it. First Ragana, and now Sapphire—piece by piece, you feel as though your life is coming back together.

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You’ve made good progress on the potion, too. With the heartstone, key, and Suspended Chord in hand, you’re already halfway done with acquiring the ingredients! All that remains now is solving two more frustratingly vague riddles, acquiring the corresponding ingredients, and facing Lumia to get access to her mortar and pestle. And, you know, also hopefully to make amends for your innumerable transgressions. You probably should have said that one first.

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Lumia…

Even just her name is enough to upend the relative peace of mind you’ve struggled so hard to achieve. You can’t talk to her—you just can’t. It’s impossible and you know it, and worse, you know that even so, it’s still something that you need to do.

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But you don’t need to do it just yet. You have time—lots of time—and right now, you’re very, very tired. What you’d like more than anything is to settle down in bed for the evening, maybe with a tall glass of Alleviating Aliment and some, uh… light reading material.

>>2808032
This warms my heart.

>>2808040
>some, uh… light reading material.
Is the Legend of the Chronicler finally having its first and perhaps only fan?

>>2808651
I would enjoy reading the complete work if Funtron ever put it all out. On the other hand it's more fun to see it a page at a time.

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——Status Report——
I have some alternately good and bad news.
>Good: I've finished moving and can now continue posting updates.
>Bad: Having moved, I'm now a few hundred miles away from the Table and its inhabitants.
>Good: I took the precaution of taking photos for the remaining scenes in advance.
>Bad: I only had time to take a few key shots, instead of the ~20 pictures per scene this quest usually runs.
>Good: Even if the format has to change slightly, this won't affect the ending of the story.
I'll wrap this scene up tomorrow, and then move on to the final two-ish scenes. Thank you for your patience.

>>2812018
We'll be here waiting!

>>2812018
The effort you're putting into this is astounding, man.

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You open up World Exile Meridiana, Volume 3 to where you left off the night before. Curiously, the page of inexplicable Bionicle fanfiction that you found last time has vanished. You’d almost be willing to chalk that whole episode up as just some sort of dream, but honestly, you’d like to think that even asleep you can write better than that.

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Or better than this, for that matter.

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You keep reading it anyway, though.

It’s bad and you know it’s bad, but you’re in too deep now to stop, and even if the story is laughable, the characters are kinda charming in their own ways—Morgana, for instance. At first, you were pretty skeptical of her whole deal. A demon from the far reaches of hell who gets redeemed because the heroine offered to be friends with her? You can’t believe any self-respecting author would try pulling something so simplistic and banal, and yet you’ve grown attached to her somehow. She's really a...

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...wait, what was that you just said? "Banal"?

Something about that word reminds you of something else. What was it?

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Aha, that’s it! The third reagent must be a piece of shitty fiction! It all makes sense now: iron and oak galls can be combined to make ink, and a bird’s feather can serve as a quill to write the words with!

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You wonder if the riddle means you should throw the whole novel in the cauldron, or if just one page would do. It’s a matter that deeply concerns you, less because of any moral qualms with desecrating a piece of literature and more out of a desire to not have to pay a huge library fine for losing the entire book.

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Either way, it’s not like you can really start brewing until you’ve got the powdered acorn ready, and since there’s no way that’s happening tonight, you figure it’s fine if you lie back down, relax, and finish reading. Now, where did you leave off…

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???: “Hard at work, I see.”

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You turn to see the dwarf staring at you from behind a pillar.

ROSALYN: “H—how did you get in here?”

???: “Ho ho ho. That’s not important right now.”

ROSALYN: “I beg to differ!"

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???: “Beg all you want, potion seller. It’s irrelevant to me. I’m merely here to check in.”

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ROSALYN: “Well, if that’s the case, I have some good news! I’m two thirds of the way through with the potion, and if you give me a few days, then—”

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???: “A few /days/?”

ROSALYN: “Okay, maybe a week or so. See, there’s this old friend of mine who—”

???: “No. That won’t do at all. Time is short.”

ROSALYN: “…time’s not the only thing that’s short around here…”

???: “What was that?”

ROSALYN: “Nothing, nothing!”

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???: “I should hope not. This is a matter of absolute importance, so listen well: I need the potion by midnight tonight, and that is final.”

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ROSALYN: “That wasn’t part of our deal!”

???: “Is that a no?”

ROSALYN: “Well, not exactly—”

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???: “Then I suggest you make haste. The eleventh hour nears, potion seller. I’d hate for you to be… late.”

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ROSALYN: “By, uh—by ‘late’, you mean…”

???: “Ho ho ho. I’m certain you can work that out.”

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???: “Don’t disappoint me.”

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You don’t like the sound of that ultimatum. You don’t like the sound of it at all.

The dwarf creeped you out from the moment you first laid eyes on him, but you figured he was at least the harmless sort of creepy. And on that count, oh godt were you wrong. You’re in over your head with this now, and you can only see one way out of this unharmed.

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It’s eight at night, and assuming you need two hours to make it to Elfland Square and back, half an hour to brew all four potions, and another half hour to account for whatever mishaps might ensue along the way, you’ve got exactly one whole hour to meet with Lumia and powder your acorn.

Oh, and to solve the final riddle and collect the relevant ingredient, which could be pretty much anywhere.

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You’re so screwed.

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But you can’t give up; not now. As much as you sometimes hate being alive, you have no intention of dying just yet, and especially not at the hands of some dwarven Santa impersonator.

With a determination you weren’t even sure you still possessed, you load up your cart and hit the road. Lumia awaits, and there’s not a moment to waste.

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You’re running out of time.

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???: “Running out of time, indeed. You’ve gotten yourself into quite the mess this time, Basic…”

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BASIC: “How exactly are you going to finish all this? The impending meeting with Lumia… The final ingredient… The dwarf’s inevitable return… There’s so much left to chronicle, and so little time to do it in.”

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BASIC: “And what’s worse, this was supposed to be the grand finale! No, this won’t do, not at all. There must be some way to wrap all this up before the universal eleventh hour draws to a close and we have to depart from the Hylic Plane. Oh, but what could it be?”

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BASIC: “Aha—the holy writ! That’s it, Whenua! If we just focus more on the writing and less on the visuals, we should yet be able to see our heroine’s story through to the end. What have you got so far?”

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BASIC: “Well, that’s, uh—that’s definitely a striking opening. But I think you should probably stick to the second person and present tense, just for consistency's sake. And I’d double-check your spelling if I were you. And, well—actually, maybe you should just leave the writing to me. Here, let me give it a go.”

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BASIC: “There we go; I think that should suffice. Now then, let’s wrap this up!”

>>2837277
I'm sad to see you so pressed for time. Nevertheless, I'm looking forward to the finale of this tale.

>>2837361
I'm just hoping this thread doesn't get bumped off page 10 before I can post it.

Unfortunately, it looks like one more thread will be necessary.
>>2838579
>>2838579