Swarmped with work and a secret side project that I'm not quite ready to talk about, I'm sorry that I haven't been updating RFF regularly. I hope this goofy sketch is enough to sate you hungry monsters. ~Tyler
"It came! It finally came!" I squealed to no one in particular. With the catalog rolled up and held in my armpit, I lifted the heavy wooden trapdoor and descended into the catacombs.
My footsteps, quickened by barely contained glee, echoed off the walls and vaulted ceilings. I nearly tripped over a replica skeleton on the way. Once inside my study I flopped into my overstuffed parlor chair, and lounging perpendicular to the normal seating posture, flipped open the GRATE & PERIL 1502 spring collection. If you didn't know already, this catalog is a castilian's dream come true.
"Oh, how guche! Page 1, ONE is torture chambers. As if it were the first room in every castle. "
"It came! It finally came!" I squealed to no one in particular. With the catalog rolled up and held in my armpit, I lifted the heavy wooden trapdoor and descended into the catacombs.
My footsteps, quickened by barely contained glee, echoed off the walls and vaulted ceilings. I nearly tripped over a replica skeleton on the way. Once inside my study I flopped into my overstuffed parlor chair, and lounging perpendicular to the normal seating posture, flipped open the GRATE & PERIL 1502 spring collection. If you didn't know already, this catalog is a castilian's dream come true.
"Oh, how guche! Page 1, ONE is torture chambers. As if it were the first room in every castle. "
Products A-F. Aragon's Inquisition Collection
All wooden components in this collection feature solid black oak construction, locally sourced from the forest on the way to Granny's house, and purchased from THE woodcutter who cut open the wolf. It's fished with a patented 3-step process that leaves the final product rough and pithy, as if it had been exposed to damp and moldy conditions for years!
A. Potro the Gnomish pull-n-lock stretching mechanism on this rack provides mechanical advantage, allowing you to convert even the most heinous of heretics. Item# TC2034 Exclusive 600 GP
"I can't just flip through, cover to cover I'll end up buying everything! I need to just focus on what my collection is missing. Besides, the inquisition decorum is going to throw off my industrial revolution theme. Although, the trophy room is almost entirely undecorated, and religious iconography never goes out of style."
F. Corpus Moradin this brass crucifix stands five hands tall and shines like real gold for a fraction of the price. Notice the Dwarven craftsmanship and carnelian stonework highlighting His bloody suffering. Item#TR5798 Exclusive 50 GP
G. Gauntlet of the Flame Warriors this copper gauntlet, exquisitely detailed with flames and secret runes that portent "This glove is gifted to one who has helped the order of the Flame, and notes their heroic deed or sacrifice." Not any more; with this Grate & Peril exclusive offer you can proudly display this boon! Item#TR1344 320 GP
"That's a must have! Oh, and I can't forget the case. Hummm... do I go stone, wood, petrified wood, or bone? I already have the bone throne because, let's be honest, it's got the best spine support, hey-ohh! But seriously I wonder if that's too much bone? People might start to think my lord doesn't do enough bone crunching if they see all these pristine bones around."
2
Oh, even Grate&Peril's on-hold music gets me excited. I don't know how I'm possibly going to wait the 4-6 months for shipping. But I also won't be price gouged for magical transportation, after that one time we needed those trapdoors--
"Good Frostmoot, this is Christine, can I please have the customer key on the back of your catalog?"
"Hi Christine, this is Ronald the castellan of Blackgate."
"Ronald, I'm going to need your customer---"
"How many times have I called you people and you still don't recognize me?! Calm Ronald. Calm." "No problem Christine it's 0035--"
"Sorry Ronald, the number I'm looking for should start with a letter."
"No Christine, I'm sorry. Where do I--?"
There is an audible sigh. "It's beneath the picture of the skeleton key?"
Of course I feel like an idiot, but this is the first goddamned time they've asked me for this ridiculous number. Must be that new accounting software that Gringotts has made so ubiquitous.
"Thank you. What can I do for you today?"
"I'd like to place an order."
"Great, can have the first item num--"
"SHHHHHhh!"
"Sir? Is there--"
"SHHHhhh, shut up! Shut up! I thought I heard something."
After a long silence Christine says, "Sir, I have customers on other lines..."
"Of course, I'm sorry. I just thought I heard a firetrap go off. You know how they have that particular Fwoooosh!?"
"It's quite alright. I'm pretty used to it. People around the office say I'm cursed because I've had twelve customers get raided by adventuring parties while I was on the phone with them."
"Twelve? God, that's not even a coincidence anymore, that just incompetent supervising! Oh, sorry Christine, I didn't mean..."
Her voice went flat, "Sir, Can I have your first item number."
"Yes. Sorry. Yes. It's tee... are... one..."
"Sir, there should be five more numbers---"
"Shhhhh! Oh shit, there's someone in the catacombs!"
"Honestly, nine times out of ten it's just rats. It's probably just rats."
"Listen you pencil pusher! It's not just RATS. Someone's in my labyrinthine catacombs and because of budget cuts it's only a MINOR labyrinth... wait a minute are you calling from a bathroom, it sounds all echo-y over there? Christine?!"
The door to the parlor shattered to splinters and an iron-spiked, fur-lined, size 14 dragonhide boot stomped the useless boards to the floor. Following the foot upwards revealed a heavily-muscled calf glistening in sweat, capped with spiky knee pads. But the rest of the outfit is a blur as my focus is drawn to the huge crossbow (a small ballista really) that is leveled at my head. "Christine, I'm going to have to call you back."
"You still don't get it do you Thirteen?" The voice came from both the stone of speaking and the huge barbarian woman in front of me. She dropped the stone she was holding and said, "I don't work for Grate & Peril anymore."
"Are those boots by L.L. Bard?"
"Actually... they're Dirk'n'stalks."
"Ronald, I'm going to need your customer---"
"How many times have I called you people and you still don't recognize me?! Calm Ronald. Calm." "No problem Christine it's 0035--"
"Sorry Ronald, the number I'm looking for should start with a letter."
"No Christine, I'm sorry. Where do I--?"
There is an audible sigh. "It's beneath the picture of the skeleton key?"
Of course I feel like an idiot, but this is the first goddamned time they've asked me for this ridiculous number. Must be that new accounting software that Gringotts has made so ubiquitous.
"Thank you. What can I do for you today?"
"I'd like to place an order."
"Great, can have the first item num--"
"SHHHHHhh!"
"Sir? Is there--"
"SHHHhhh, shut up! Shut up! I thought I heard something."
After a long silence Christine says, "Sir, I have customers on other lines..."
"Of course, I'm sorry. I just thought I heard a firetrap go off. You know how they have that particular Fwoooosh!?"
"It's quite alright. I'm pretty used to it. People around the office say I'm cursed because I've had twelve customers get raided by adventuring parties while I was on the phone with them."
"Twelve? God, that's not even a coincidence anymore, that just incompetent supervising! Oh, sorry Christine, I didn't mean..."
Her voice went flat, "Sir, Can I have your first item number."
"Yes. Sorry. Yes. It's tee... are... one..."
"Sir, there should be five more numbers---"
"Shhhhh! Oh shit, there's someone in the catacombs!"
"Honestly, nine times out of ten it's just rats. It's probably just rats."
"Listen you pencil pusher! It's not just RATS. Someone's in my labyrinthine catacombs and because of budget cuts it's only a MINOR labyrinth... wait a minute are you calling from a bathroom, it sounds all echo-y over there? Christine?!"
The door to the parlor shattered to splinters and an iron-spiked, fur-lined, size 14 dragonhide boot stomped the useless boards to the floor. Following the foot upwards revealed a heavily-muscled calf glistening in sweat, capped with spiky knee pads. But the rest of the outfit is a blur as my focus is drawn to the huge crossbow (a small ballista really) that is leveled at my head. "Christine, I'm going to have to call you back."
"You still don't get it do you Thirteen?" The voice came from both the stone of speaking and the huge barbarian woman in front of me. She dropped the stone she was holding and said, "I don't work for Grate & Peril anymore."
"Are those boots by L.L. Bard?"
"Actually... they're Dirk'n'stalks."