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A Man Seeking A Mongoose

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An old man seems to sit on the side of a road with a rather poorly constructed sign written in common so lacking in grammatical structure a goblin may well have written it. Were one to gaze upon the sign it would reed.

 

Me seek Monguse. will pay mina. Must in cage.

 

Were one to inspect him further they woudl notice perhaps that half his face appears to be disfigured with leprosy and that he coughs every twenty to thirty seconds like clockwork. Nevertheless, despite his illness there he sits, waiting to be approached.

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The first wander to encounter the old man would be a just as elderly man, well trimmed dyed beard and hair, and a fine hat snuggly sitting ontop of his head would adorn it. He had trudged down the path with a fancy, yet odd and bulky metal walking cane of his, it producing an irritating and loud sound as it struck the path underneath his feet: "Clang! Clang! Clang!" It would sound as he walked.

 

Soon however, after doffing his hat in a graceful manner at the man and smiling politely, he would halt, frown as he read the sign and its strange request. 

And with a dry cough and frown appearing on his wrinkled face, he would ask the man with the kind voice of his own.                                                                                                                                                  

 

"

Aah, Mister. If I may ask ye. For wha' purpose do ye seek a Mongoose? You are aware tha' such are considered sacred by many, aye?

"

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The old man slowly rises to his feet and tilts his head to examine the man "Hrm... Ye ask why I seek a Monguse?".

 

Notably the u in the word "Monguse" was drawn out for an exceedingly long time.

 

Once again he coughed, this time violently and all of a sudden a piece of flesh from the infected part of his face seemed to fall to the ground. While any observer may have noticed this, the old man doesn't seem phased and continues "I wish to... Erhm... Wurship it" (Drawing out the u once more).

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Upon seeing the sickening sight Johns's brows furrow gravely, a wrinkle forming by his nose in, if not disgust, then at the very least pity. He then proceeds to take a step forward in a careful manner, watching.

 

John seems almost saddened as his grip tightens a bit around his walking cane, supporting himself with it as he leans a bit forward to gain eye contact with the man, questioning once more:

 

"

In wha' way are you planning on doing such, my friend? Ye seem to be in ill condition too... Come with me, we shall figure out the Mongoose things later.. It seems you need to get taken care o'...

"

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The old man splutters and coughs before stating firmly "No... I... Just need find me a Monguse! Stay back and touch me nae"

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Quavinir walks up to the man smiling, not paying heed to the man's clear illness. "Fraend, you search for mongoose to breeng saelf closure to Aeriel mezeenks, no? Aeriel mongoose, Iblees snake...Yeu Rthulu possum. - eef so, you no need mongoose to vorsheep Aeriel. Furzaremore, you look to pray for cure? Or seempleh find solace een humble vorsheep before time eez up?"

 

 

The old pale man kneels down to eye level with the sick man. "Eef zeh formare, I cahn haelp you veez zat..."

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The old man looks up to Quavinir and suddenly composes himself. He bends down to pick the flesh which had fallen from his face and crouches down to pick it up. Moments later he rather inexplicably seems to attach the flesh back to his face with a combination of puss and general ooze acting as a sort of fleshy-glue.

 

Before speaking he shifts his posture once more, revealing a dagger— Albeit given the man's condition one would assume few would find such a thing threatening. Nevertheless he speaks anew "Ah seek a monguse... No healing from man or beast... Simply... A monguse... I also want find a high elf, one tae do a few things... But that be another story".

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An odd being floats past, watching the leper. "He wantz Aeriel. Yiz." He motions to the group around him, before floating off. Nodding to itself thrice. "Aeriel, yiz. Man iz devout, must send fruit baszkit when is healed."

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A small halfling approaches "Ya all on shrooms! 'e obviously wan's Knox. Knox i' tha' way."
He points to a pumpkin patch.

 

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A slightly larger Halfling looks up from the pumpkin patch, grinning at the group while holding an axe above his head.

"Oo me?"

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