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Episode 042: They say blackrock can cure pinkeye...

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Hail friends,

...and I have no reason to doubt them!

"On the first day, apply the blackrock directly to the forehead. On the second, bathe with it. (You may feel a tingling sensation and sense your ability to bear children dimishing.) On the third, grind it into a fine powder, add water and flour, and eat it. Ta-da! You're cured!"

I wait until they're done coughing up black phlegm, thank the sterile men, and go about my business. Nice people. ^^

If I were blackrock, where would I be?


Too many questions. First thing's first...

You flatter me sir, my single greatest weakness. Tou·ché.

With a new found bounce in my step and my fart smelling just a little sweeter, I leave him be. But with the Books of Truth no longer spawning (The Age of Truth) where would I go? What would I do?

I scan the message board in the middle of town square and confirm my questionable joy:


The Lyceum.

Untold acts in unwritten stories have been told by many-a-wiseman over the years. Something about dying a sad lonely man knowning his bloodline would die with him. I'm not too sure. I wasn't paying too much attention. Plus, I didn't stay long. Black spit leapt from his mouth when he talked and this black aura emminating from his robe was hurting my balls.

I arrive and take a look around.

Sydney of The Holy Order has also come for the sacred treasure. And he's brought friends. But what's this! A large piece of blackrock!

I look again. 13 stones (and uninsured to boot). Too heavy for any thief.


An 18 stone insured piece of blackrock. They've also heard news from the town bulletin boards no doubt.

I stick around in case they bring more friends. They don't disappoint.

The dark wisps quickly overwhelm them. I check the corpse and find nothing of interest. A earth elemental slayer here. A fancy bracelet there...

But I won't give up now. I can't.


I stealth up close. I take my time. They were distracted. They were occupied.

I take my time.

And when the time was right; when his companions left his side, when the dark wisps and flesh golems were being pushed back, and when the ever-watching npc's lifted their gaze upon this guarded sanctuary...

...I wait no longer.

"This item has no value to you."


I curse the gods. I curse my tiny wolf arms. I blame today's failure on E-Wok! (He had something to do with it. I know it.)

Did I target the blessed runebook unbeknownst to me? I find myself doubting myself.

(This will require further investigation.)


If The Holy Order wouldn't hand it over willingly, and the gods insist on playing their little "We hate Chad" practical joke, I move to Plan B. I'll just help them die. I witnessed their health falling dangerously close numerous times.

I stay close. I intend to block their movement and deal a killing blow when the time is right.

The wisps do most of the work and they do it well.

I reward myself with a bag of sending and my coveted piece of blackrock.

I zig while the blackrock infected etheral llama zags and make my escape.

I thank The Holy Order for their generous donation, add the blackrock to my ever growing museum (of sorts), and call it a day.

Good day.

*spits up black phlegm*

'Til next time!

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