After eight hours of glorious, free, non-rapeful sleep, I left the pirate ship and headed out into the fine, fish-smelling air of the waterfront. I had a shop to visit, and a homosexual Wood Elf’s day to ruin. I decided to wear some of my graverobbed clothes for the occasion.

This time, I tried to use tact when I informed him that his entire inventory had been stolen off corpses. I shouldn’t have even bothered, since the little asshat jumped right down my throat. He accused me of making shit up so that Jensine could get rid of him. This pissed me off. I had just escaped some creepy fuck’s basement of death, and now I was getting verbally reamed by a guy who wore his sideburns in pigtails? I don’t think so.

I practically threw the incriminating book at him, and after he took a look at it, he quickly changed his tune. According to Thoronir, he had no idea where his goods came from. I guess the smell of rotting flesh didn’t tip him off. Also, considering the items in Thoronir’s shop inventory, people are buried with some weird shit. I mean, fruits and vegetables? Gross.

As soon as Thoronir started saying stuff like an apology wasn’t enough to make up for this horrible crime against the dead he had perpetuated, and he wished he could find some way to make it up to everyone, I quickly cut him off at the pass. If he was desperate enough to offer favors to a woman, then he must really be in a bad place. I decided to give him a task much more suited for his particular talents: help me take down Agarmir. Thoronir perked right back up when I said this.

After promising to never, ever, EVER see Agarmir again (not sure I believed that), he told me that Agarmir had put him off earlier, saying he had urgent business elsewhere. Thoronir took this literally, and with the information I had just given him, he decided that Agarmir must be plundering corpses at this very moment. In the middle of the morning in broad daylight. He would have to be seriously dumb. But hey, the guy had blood and other horrible evidence in his basement and only an Average level lock on the door, so we’re not talking about genius level thinking here.

I wasn’t going to risk confronting an unstable freak while wearing my fine clothing of the dead, so I changed into my formidable leather armor for the occasion. To the graveyard!

I walked around for a while, not noticing anything out of the ordinary, like digging marks or rotting body parts lying about. But then I discovered that the Trentius Family Mausoleum door was ajar, and I heard some suspicious sounds inside. I really hoped it was Agarmir and not someone…enjoying themselves with someone’s dead great-great grandmother. God damn my brain.

But no, it was Agarmir, thank goodness. He had another dude in there with him, but no sexual shenanigans appeared to be taking place. I tried using my powers of persuasion (not like that) to convince him to stop his heinous desecrations and all that, but then he informed me that this whole thing was a trap laid specifically for me. Wait a minute, I hadn’t even talked to the guy before. He didn’t catch me in his house. The only possibility is that he noticed me skulking about the other night. And here I thought I was so stealthy when he was following right behind me.

Well, I wasn’t about to allow myself to be murdered. I called up my trusty skeleton buddy, who proceeded to walk around slowly and do nothing while Agarmir and his life partner sliced me up. Thanks, pal. Rolling my eyes, I pulled out my sexy pirate sword and flailed around wildly, effortlessly killing the two guys and the useless skeleton in the process. Fuck yeah.

Death wasn’t enough of a punishment for Agarmir, so I stole his clothes, his house key, and his enchanted sword as well. If he had been a member of the forum, I would have banned him, too. You just don’t fuck with a recapper.

I returned to Thoronir’s shop to give him the good news and to brag about my mad flailing skillz. Not that I was trying to get him in the sack, mind you. Come on, I’m hardly that delusional. You know what he said, diary? Get this: he said he was glad I survived because if Agarmir had brutally murdered me, he surely would have killed Thoronir next. Yeah, that would have been so tragic, Thoronir. I’m so glad you didn’t get killed.

So this whole debacle had a happy ending: Thoronir donated his ill-gotten money and goods to the temple and he made up with Jensine and joined her little merchant society. I guess he must have done that during the two hours I was disposing of Agarmir.

Then…Thoronir gave me a ring. No, I’m not joking, diary. It was a magic ring, too. Not the one Agarmir dug up from the dead hobbit, I hope. I was so confused. I mean, as a recapper, I’m way more used to the clueless female giving inappropriate gifts to the gay man. This was a reversal of everything I knew.

Thoronir assured me he would stay in business — with higher prices, unfortunately — and I just smiled and nodded as I made my excuses to get the hell out of there. It was time to collect my well-deserved reward from Jensine. I had risked life and limb, and was possibly hit on by a gay Wood Elf. I wanted money, damn it.

But my pain and suffering wasn’t over. Jensine treated me to a lengthy version of all the crap Thoronir had just told me. I tried to cut in several times to tell her I already fucking knew this, but she wasn’t to be deterred. At long last, she got to the good stuff: my reward. Let’s see, I had interrogated Thoronir, followed him all around creation, spied on his meeting with Agarmir, broke into Agarmir’s bloody basement, confronted Thoronir again, then fought off Agarmir and his butt buddy in the tomb, and all for what? 100 Gold.

Let me repeat that: 100. Fucking. Gold.

This city sucks balls.

For comparison, the ring Thoronir gave me was worth way more than that. How was I supposed to buy a house with 100 Gold? Yeah, I know I told you the other day that I didn’t want that shitty shack on the waterfront. But that was before I trekked back and forth around the island to hide my valuables inside of seashells. I know that sounds crazy, but it’s better than storing them in the unlocked treasure chests around here. Plus, you know how I said that my prospective neighbors looked kind of unfortunate? Well, it turns out they’re all in the Thieves Guild. So it’s all good — I know they’re not going to steal from me or murder me in my sleep. Rape might be a different matter — I’ll have to see what the Thieves Guild policy is on that.

All that is the long way of saying I want that dumb house now. And guess who has nowhere near enough money for it after all those Security lessons and lockpicks? So my next goal is to get money any way I can — by looting dungeons, by stealing, and of course, by peddling my potions. I know the first place I’m going to steal from, too. I’ll just have to wait until Jensine’s shop is closed.

I was kind of itching to do some training, but I really didn’t want to head back into the sewers with the rats. I decided to put on my adventurer’s cap and check out those nearby Ayleid ruins I mentioned earlier. It was already afternoon, so I’d probably have to camp out there. I hoped it wasn’t too creepy.

Okay, this was my first “real” adventure since the sewers, and I admit I was nervous. When I entered the ruins, I could see someone moving about below. It took all my willpower not to “EEP!” and give myself away. And yes, I was sneaking. I snuck all the way until I was right next to the mysterious person, who noticed me right at the last second. In my defense, he attacked me first. Technically. I mean, I had my sword all ready to strike right before he turned around. It turns out he was just a crappy old bandit, so he didn’t really count as a person in terms of murdering (kind of like the pirates back in the city). Yay, I’m still in the Thieves Guild!

Well, I needn’t have worried about my well-being. Not only did I not die, but those bandits were freaking morons. Even my dumbass skeleton summon managed to take them out. And that’s sad. The others just stood there going, “DURR?! I think there’s someone here!” until I snuck up behind them and killed them in one hit. Jesus.

On a related note, I really need a name for that damn skeleton. How about Bonehead? It’s not creative, but it sure is fitting. Anyway, I left most of the loot for later — I’m sure it would take me several trips to smuggle all that shit out — but I did take the time to read a note that one of the bandits had helpfully written. They had originally planned to use these ruins as a hideout for the purpose of ambushing travelers on their way to the Imperial City. That wasn’t very nice of them. I felt less bad about murdering them all, not that I felt all that bad in the first place. I like how I’m all sticking up for random travelers when they’re probably the same people whose possessions I’m planning to steal and sell. I’m such a hypocrite.

The note also said something about one of their party going missing in “the tombs.” Um…yikes. I decided to stay out of the tombs for the time being. Instead, I loaded up as much shit as I could carry and scouted around for a decent place to sleep. Away from any doors leading into the tombs, naturally. Luckily, one of the bandits had lugged a bed all the way into one of the chambers. I guess it could have been left over from ancient times, but it didn’t really fit with the white stone and glowy green-blue decor of the ruins. It had to have been lugged. Sure, it was nice for me, but what the hell were they thinking?

So here I am, huddled into a smelly stolen bandit bed, with only bandit corpses and the ghosts in the tombs to keep me company. Sometimes I hate my life.

Jeanne Recapiere
Last Seed 31
3E433
10:04PM