Let's Play Golden Sun: Where the Sun Don't Shine

[PyrosNine]

Episode 6, Part 2: The mysterious, alluring power of....
(after this, I'm not spending nearly as much time in towns, unless there's a name related gag to milk for all it's worth.)



It had been a rough haul to Imil, but Shota had gotten much stronger from it, and we'd even finally gotten around to getting that fourth party member on the way.

Ladies, Gentlemen and Shotas, allow me to introduce to you our newest meatshield, the NobleDwarf Pyros.

☺

He looks nothing like a dwarf, but we look nothing like elves, so we're more than happy to allow an Ascii character of a face to join our merry band of wandering weirdos. At least, we think he'll join us. Right about now, he seems to mumble on about working ill, and passing out on account of grievous full body frostbitten wounds... We can't seem to find one of his legs...and he's drinking our lamp oil like it was grape juice....I'm sure he'll be back to 100% once we get to the town Inn!

Imil was just about as hospitable as the ground surrounding it, covered in snow and ice. Not to many people running around outside either.

There was a good reason for it though:



Oh. So it's -30 out here, and everyone's catching Cold? Cute. Well, whatever the trivial and expected plight of this new town was, Detective Shota was immediately on the case, starting with touching local children.


Our Cluehound could pick up their warm trail, even in this frozen hell. The Jerks were close, tastefully close. We had seen the lighthouse in the distance, but they could just as well be still in the town, and at any rate we needed mending before doing anything.

☺: There...Inn?

: No worries your highness, We'll get you to an Inn ASAP...

: By which he means an hour after he robs this snowblasted town blind.

However, the first house we entered by the little boy was quite full of plot:




Well, now we know how many angels can dance on the head of a dying old man...but I'm sure you know what this means.




To think that Tits could have such a revitalizing power on old men!



Yadda Yadda yadda, to think that this village can't get by without Tits, blah blah blah



: Uhh, yeah, we've just come in, and quite frankly are missing body parts and-uh oh I think we left the dwarf outside.

Before I could bring his regal dwarfness inside, a bright flashing light poured in from the windows, a bright flashing light so bright that it ruined the film on my camera and so I don't have a screen cap of it.

I know, it must have been really, really, bright and therefore forgiveable.



Oh, so that's why they're called lighthouses. They make light and make me forget to hit the screencap button.



And then she bolted right out the door.

☺: Ack!

: Sorry!

Well, I'll admit there was something awfully familiar about that blue haired, psynergy using girl who said cryptic words and then disappeared mysteriously, but that chest in the upper lefthand corner was driving me crazy, just lying there, unopened.



It was just some money though, and my camera was too injured from that light to record how much. But the next, much more important treasure was captured on film.



: Nothing like some hot porridge to heal the body and spirit, huh guys?

: I'm an oatmeal man myself.

: Can it reattach my arm? It fell off again.

☺: Nah, ya need my mother's famous tuber stew for that, steaming hot out of the pot, perfect for the dwarven warrior missing a few limbs after beating a goblin to death with a backpack and braving the fabled elephants of-*knurd*. BOooze. Need Boooze.

: I don't have the heart to tell him this is a strictly straight-edge adventuring party.



Thanks Thadius.



Yeah yeah, sure sure, plot thattaway, where do you keep the rest of your valuables?



How could someone leave fine TITS! alone?


Behold the ice, better known as zero friction solid dihydrogen-monoxide, which translates and amplifies the lateral motion of any object placed on it's mirror like surface, making it incapable of stopping or changing direction until it hits an unmoveable object or the ice ends. If one were to tie chains to four rocks, and attach the other ends to a wheell, wait for winter and properly redirect the rocks at the corners...one would possess a perpetual motion machine all winter long.


But enough scientific ponderings, I've got graves to rob.


Lord, what profanities this child speaks in your Sanctum!


Now, for the loot list.

Some Clever iceskating gets me a vial:



And Clever use of Mr. Frosty gets me into that cave.


And to this Djinni.

How pleasantly warm!


The white, powdery slopes and quaint, cozy mountain cottages?


Well, drat. missed them!




No shopping, the item, weapon, and armor shop owners are down with H1N1, aren't getting up anytime soon. And they locked their inventory up cunningly. Well played Monsieurs Armmakers. Well played.

Well, we'd go further, but I'm afraid the party is in sore need of a rest, Mr. Pyros has just gone into a strange mood, stole some hops, a pot, and a barrel and locked himself inside the Inn's kitchen, and everyone's getting tired of all the TITS! jokes.

...Okay, a few more.