RE: Twenty Quest
01-05-2013, 02:17 AM
Questions and Answers
You look at the horse. It's strong enough to kick you to death, but unfortunately, you doubt it will be that easy.
The horse, after all, is your prisoner. It's the prime leader of a planet of robots from another galaxy, and as long as you have the horse, they won't move against you. And, as your prisoner, it's magically bound not to harm you. You could theoretically release it, but in doing so, you would undo the seal on its power of flight. And the last thing you want is your horse flying off to its home galaxy.
Fortunately, you're not without resources. There's your money, of course, which is not only good legal tender but also effective ammunition. But even without that, you still have your network of spies. Admittedly, they're not very good at doing anything except keeping track of your ex.
That said, given that your ex is the greatest Wool Wizard in the kingdom - well, also the only one, but never mind that - it might be useful to know where he is. He knitted your woolen iPod, he might have other wool objects of use. You just hope you can grab them from his hideaway without actually having to talk to him.
Of course, you're getting ahead of yourself a bit. You need to actually contact your spies first, and for that, you'll need to head over to the sea.
You ride to the beach, and for a moment, lose yourself in nostalgia. This is where you first washed up. It's how you got all that useless sand in your pockets...
You find yourself absentmindedly filling your pockets with sand. What is your problem? At least you're sensible enough not to try to bury yourself in it again. That was embarrassing.
And speaking of embarrassing, you just realized that your adoptive parents are here. Maybe you should have found another beach.
"Pinkie, dear!" your mother says. You groan inwardly at that name. Your parents never called your Lady Octopushead, no matter how much you terrorized the populace. "I heard all about your head problems. It's such a shame, but I'm sure you'll be all right."
"Yes, and I hope you learned a lesson!" your father says declaratively. "Honestly, your mother and I did not raise you to drown your enemies with a tidal wave."
"Now, now, dear, we can talk about that later," your mother replies. "Right now, Pinkie needs our support. Oh, and I packed you a nice lunch! Here you go!"
Your mother enthusiastically shoves a lunchbox into your hands. Wonderful.
"What you need is some good, honest work, my dear," your father continues. "Here, I circled some jobs in the classifieds for you."
Before you can raise a word of protest, your father shoves the newspaper in your hands as well.
You definitely should have found another beach. Gods, you're embarrassed to even share a species with these two. You ride off, pointedly not thanking them or even saying another word.
"Hmmph! I thought we taught Pinkie better manners than that," you hear your father grumble in the distance.
"Now dear, it's been a rough day for her. I'm sure she'll appreciate it when she's had some time to calm down."
Ugh. You could just die of embarrassment. Except that would only be a metaphorical death, and you're looking for a literal one. You ride to the edge of the water and prepare to summon your spies.
How do you do that, again?
Spoiler
You look at the horse. It's strong enough to kick you to death, but unfortunately, you doubt it will be that easy.
The horse, after all, is your prisoner. It's the prime leader of a planet of robots from another galaxy, and as long as you have the horse, they won't move against you. And, as your prisoner, it's magically bound not to harm you. You could theoretically release it, but in doing so, you would undo the seal on its power of flight. And the last thing you want is your horse flying off to its home galaxy.
Fortunately, you're not without resources. There's your money, of course, which is not only good legal tender but also effective ammunition. But even without that, you still have your network of spies. Admittedly, they're not very good at doing anything except keeping track of your ex.
That said, given that your ex is the greatest Wool Wizard in the kingdom - well, also the only one, but never mind that - it might be useful to know where he is. He knitted your woolen iPod, he might have other wool objects of use. You just hope you can grab them from his hideaway without actually having to talk to him.
Of course, you're getting ahead of yourself a bit. You need to actually contact your spies first, and for that, you'll need to head over to the sea.
You ride to the beach, and for a moment, lose yourself in nostalgia. This is where you first washed up. It's how you got all that useless sand in your pockets...
You find yourself absentmindedly filling your pockets with sand. What is your problem? At least you're sensible enough not to try to bury yourself in it again. That was embarrassing.
And speaking of embarrassing, you just realized that your adoptive parents are here. Maybe you should have found another beach.
"Pinkie, dear!" your mother says. You groan inwardly at that name. Your parents never called your Lady Octopushead, no matter how much you terrorized the populace. "I heard all about your head problems. It's such a shame, but I'm sure you'll be all right."
"Yes, and I hope you learned a lesson!" your father says declaratively. "Honestly, your mother and I did not raise you to drown your enemies with a tidal wave."
"Now, now, dear, we can talk about that later," your mother replies. "Right now, Pinkie needs our support. Oh, and I packed you a nice lunch! Here you go!"
Your mother enthusiastically shoves a lunchbox into your hands. Wonderful.
"What you need is some good, honest work, my dear," your father continues. "Here, I circled some jobs in the classifieds for you."
Before you can raise a word of protest, your father shoves the newspaper in your hands as well.
You definitely should have found another beach. Gods, you're embarrassed to even share a species with these two. You ride off, pointedly not thanking them or even saying another word.
"Hmmph! I thought we taught Pinkie better manners than that," you hear your father grumble in the distance.
"Now dear, it's been a rough day for her. I'm sure she'll appreciate it when she's had some time to calm down."
Ugh. You could just die of embarrassment. Except that would only be a metaphorical death, and you're looking for a literal one. You ride to the edge of the water and prepare to summon your spies.
How do you do that, again?