"The three Trials!" Guybrush raises an imaginary glass with them before realizing.
"Umm...what are the three trials?"
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The three paused and looked at the third one, blinking in surprise.
"...The what?"
"Treasure huntin', ya sea urchin!"
The yellow one nodded and the blue one slapped his face.
"Oh, right. You must prove yourself in each of these three areas: swordplay, thievery, and, er, treasure huntery. Then return with proof that you've done it." The middle pirate leader nodded.
"And then ye must drink grog with us!!"
"GROG!!" "GROG!!"
"GROG!!" They all shouted in unison, raising their glasses and drinking them all down.
Just then, the chef came sweeping by and took their empty mugs, swiping them and carrying them off. Grog smelled awful, and the pirates seemed to love the putrid stuff.
"GROG!" Guybrush once again follows the lead of the pirates and drinks up, before realizing that he has no grog and no mug; so instead he ended up punching himself in the face. More or less.
"So...where do I start these trials three?"
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Guy takes the map and leaves the bar, feeling he really should figure these things out by himself...
"Hmm...let's see what this thing is all about." he tries to study the map for a few minutes, then realizes to flip it over so he's looking at the front of the map.
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seeing that there's not anyone in particular to talk to out here, Guy returns to the scumm bar and talks to a random person who loos pirate-y
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Back in the bar, Guybrush sees the pirates still rowdy and drinking. Some are sleeping to his direct right, but the pirate in red is still entertaining some friends to his left. In front of him is a table with a single wild-eyed pirate drinking by himself, though a pirate and his wench fondle each other just across him. On a third table, sitting comfortably by himself is an older crusty pirate in a cool hat, wearing blue. By the curtain separating them from the pirate leaders is a gray dog gnawing on a bone. There are other pirates in this packed bar, including one swinging from the chandelier above, lit candles swaying, but they don't seem to be very conversational.
The cook comes in through the curtain, undoubtedly leaving the kitchen free as he serves grog.
not seeing any other options that could hope to end well, Guybrush approaches the pirate in blue.
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The older pirate has very little hair and a bland expression on his face. His hat has a little Jolly Roger and Cobb engraved in it. He has a large blue button on his coat that says Ask Me About LOOM ™
(We're upgrading to the new Monkey Island graphics :p)
"Aye." He says casually, eyeing Guybrush carefully.
Guybrush, not one for subtlety or any kind of advanced thinking, goes with the obvious question.
"what is LOOM?"
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The man's otherwise bland demeanor lights up and he smiles bright at Guybrush's question. "You mean the latest masterpiece of fantasy storytelling from Lucasfilm's™ Brian Moriarty™? Why it's an extraordinary adventure with an interface on magic... stunning, high-resolution, 3D landscapes... sophisticated score and musical effects. Not to mention the detailed animation and special effects, elegant point 'n' click control of characters, objects, and magic spells. Beat the rush! Go out and buy Loom™ today!"
The man is clearly advertising something that surely confuses Guybrush. His face returns to normal and he looks at Guybrush plainly, though a gleam of hope is in his eye. Maybe he works for commission.
"Right..." Guy mutters to himself. Going down the list of "people not as likely to shank you as you might think (TM)", Guy decideds to talk to the cook once he can catch the man.
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Guybrush looks for the cook, who exits from the kitchen, leaving the door wide open as he serves another round of food and drink, his expression looking very busy. The cook pays Guybrush no mind, since he's not sitting or paying, and by the fact that he's serving a whole tavern all by himself.
It takes guybrush some time before he realises that the door to he kitchen is open and the DM has been waiting for him to enter. And since there really doesn't seem to be a better option in mind...well, you can probably figure it out.
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Guybrush comes inside and sees a very small kitchen indeed. Nothing more than a worker's table with dried blood stains and a large hunk of meat on the table, uncooked. Bubbling on an open stove was a pot of stew. On the ground was a huge barrel marked 'GROG' with a spigot.
On the far wall from the door was another door, wide open, revealing a tiny dock out on the ocean. A bird was pecking at what looked to be a beautiful red fish. If Guybrush would guess, it was a herring.
On the floor, under the table, was a large pot. It looked like someone had cooked a headcheese in it.
Guybrush looks at the scene, and really doesn't know what to make it. The herring was somewhat interesting, he wondered if someone would do something...impressive with it. Like cut down a tree or something.
Getting away from meta-humor and weird crap, Guy then inspects the pot. If he had any clue what a headcheese was he might have been able to identify something more about it...
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The pot looks large enough for Guybrush's head to fit in.
The herring looks rather fresh. Just as he decides to grab it, a seagull lands on the dock and starts pecking at it. If he wants the fish, he's gotta get it somehow.
(If you ever need a hint, just ask. You have an unlimited pocket space.)
Given no other prompting or ideas on what else to do, Guybrush attempts to shoo off the bird with the only thing he happens to have on hand: the giant pot.
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The bird flaps off at first, but then quickly returns. It takes more than a few tries to shoo the bird, giving him just enough opening to grab the herring.
Guy attempts to combine the large pot, herring, map, and the gull to make the JUNKOTRON MISSILE LAUNCHER! This baby could break through a steel wall!
Sadly, things don't work that way. So for lack of a better ideas, guy heads back out and looks for...well, anything that would resemble some kind of clue.
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Guybrush passes back out of the kitchen, the pot of stew simmering, the table with odd-looking rump roast on his right, exiting back into the bar. In this room, separated from the main area by a red curtain, sat three pirates at one table. They looked rather important. The first on the left in blue. The second in green. The third, with black and red. They were drinking grog and laughing among themselves. Guybrush wanted to be a pirate--to sit with these scalliwags and earn their respect.
When they noticed him looking, the one in the center spoke.
(OOC: I'm assumign these are the same 3 pirates that I talked to earlier)
"Gold. I'm flat broke and if'n there be any gold to be had, be it treasure huntin' or just a job...any ideas?"
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(According to this thread you haven't spoken to these guys--Psi did back in his thread, if you want to use that as a reference...)
"Go look for work elsewhere, boy." The first says, between drinks of a foul-smelling drink.
"Unless ye want to go out piratin'." Mentioins the second.
"But he can't be a pirate!" The second says to the third.
"Hey, we're short on piratin' because of this whole LeChuck business. No piratin' means no swag, and no swag means no grog, and we're gettin' dangerously short on grog."
"There may be work in town, boy, if ye're not interested in becomin' a pirate."
"Umm...what are the three trials?"
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"There are three trials every pirate must pass."
"You must master the sword..."
"...and the art of thievery..."
"...and the quest."
The three paused and looked at the third one, blinking in surprise.
"...The what?"
"Treasure huntin', ya sea urchin!"
The yellow one nodded and the blue one slapped his face.
"Oh, right. You must prove yourself in each of these three areas: swordplay, thievery, and, er, treasure huntery. Then return with proof that you've done it." The middle pirate leader nodded.
"And then ye must drink grog with us!!"
"GROG!!"
"GROG!!"
"GROG!!"
They all shouted in unison, raising their glasses and drinking them all down.
Just then, the chef came sweeping by and took their empty mugs, swiping them and carrying them off. Grog smelled awful, and the pirates seemed to love the putrid stuff.
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"So...where do I start these trials three?"
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"Try talkin' to the pirates around here."
"Go into town, ask around."
"Check out the sights on the main isle."
They all nodded to each other and raised their glasses. The left one then reached into his coat and produced a piece of paper, handing it to Guybrush.
"Here's a map o' the isle."
"We could tell you more about these quests," The left one offered.
"What do you want to know?"
(A Map of Melee Island has been added to your inventory. When you look at it, I'll upload the map.)
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"Hmm...let's see what this thing is all about." he tries to study the map for a few minutes, then realizes to flip it over so he's looking at the front of the map.
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Opening his map, he realizes he's on the edge of the town as indicated on the map.
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Back in the bar, Guybrush sees the pirates still rowdy and drinking. Some are sleeping to his direct right, but the pirate in red is still entertaining some friends to his left. In front of him is a table with a single wild-eyed pirate drinking by himself, though a pirate and his wench fondle each other just across him. On a third table, sitting comfortably by himself is an older crusty pirate in a cool hat, wearing blue. By the curtain separating them from the pirate leaders is a gray dog gnawing on a bone. There are other pirates in this packed bar, including one swinging from the chandelier above, lit candles swaying, but they don't seem to be very conversational.
The cook comes in through the curtain, undoubtedly leaving the kitchen free as he serves grog.
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(We're upgrading to the new Monkey Island graphics :p)
"Aye." He says casually, eyeing Guybrush carefully.
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Guybrush, not one for subtlety or any kind of advanced thinking, goes with the obvious question.
"what is LOOM?"
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The man is clearly advertising something that surely confuses Guybrush. His face returns to normal and he looks at Guybrush plainly, though a gleam of hope is in his eye. Maybe he works for commission.
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"Right..." Guy mutters to himself. Going down the list of "people not as likely to shank you as you might think (TM)", Guy decideds to talk to the cook once he can catch the man.
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Guybrush comes inside and sees a very small kitchen indeed. Nothing more than a worker's table with dried blood stains and a large hunk of meat on the table, uncooked. Bubbling on an open stove was a pot of stew. On the ground was a huge barrel marked 'GROG' with a spigot.
On the far wall from the door was another door, wide open, revealing a tiny dock out on the ocean. A bird was pecking at what looked to be a beautiful red fish. If Guybrush would guess, it was a herring.
On the floor, under the table, was a large pot. It looked like someone had cooked a headcheese in it.
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Either that or I ask it be retired. Sorry for the slight necro but it was on the first page of the Colo forum.
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Getting away from meta-humor and weird crap, Guy then inspects the pot. If he had any clue what a headcheese was he might have been able to identify something more about it...
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The herring looks rather fresh. Just as he decides to grab it, a seagull lands on the dock and starts pecking at it. If he wants the fish, he's gotta get it somehow.
(If you ever need a hint, just ask. You have an unlimited pocket space.)
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Pot
Fish
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Sadly, things don't work that way. So for lack of a better ideas, guy heads back out and looks for...well, anything that would resemble some kind of clue.
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When they noticed him looking, the one in the center spoke.
"What be ye wantin', boy?"
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"Gold. I'm flat broke and if'n there be any gold to be had, be it treasure huntin' or just a job...any ideas?"
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"Go look for work elsewhere, boy." The first says, between drinks of a foul-smelling drink.
"Unless ye want to go out piratin'." Mentioins the second.
"But he can't be a pirate!" The second says to the third.
"Hey, we're short on piratin' because of this whole LeChuck business. No piratin' means no swag, and no swag means no grog, and we're gettin' dangerously short on grog."
"There may be work in town, boy, if ye're not interested in becomin' a pirate."
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