Trouble, being so unremarkable that he was once overlooked by his mother in an empty room, finds a way out of the crowds of the plane-hoppers' convention easily. He jumps a well-used portal to the Hollow Port, a place so named because it is built into a large, donut shaped asteroid.
Given the unique nature of physics in this particular reality, gravity sits on a plane through the center, rather than radiating from a central point. This enables the most common mode of travel through the levels of the Hollow Port: taking a dive down the center and bobbing up and down on either side of the gravity plane until you get where you want to go. Experienced members of the Plane Hopper's Alliance do this with such practised ease that most don't even want to throw up afterwards anymore.
Trouble makes his way to the fifth level on the alpha side, almost the center. Then, he proceeds to one of his favorite hangouts, when he can get there, the Purple Pech Pub. It's a calm place, where the fights that break out usually are settled within a very few minutes and another round of drinks. They also serve some of the lighter stuff there, rather than the dwarven brews that most of the rest of the port favors.
In any case, Trouble slips into his usual booth and orders his usual drink. Five minutes later, a fight breaks out and, somehow, it manages to tip Trouble's drink into his lap.
Just another day for poor Trouble.
A friendly hand tosses the drenched Trouble a towel and sets down two more drinks. "Farwanderer! Been a while."
Trouble groans. "Just the sound of that name makes me want to disown myself. At least you didn't say the first part." He looks up at his occassional friend, Kumeg, and blinks. "What happened to you?"
Kumeg, mighty warrior, looks down at his many bandages, wrist brace, and much-torn armor. "Name it. I don't know what it is, but for the last couple of years, it seems like I've been through all 666 layers of the Abyss, one by one. I've had long-dead enemies reappear, three times as powerful as before. My sister was kidnapped and I was nearly killed by the demon what did it. My wife turned out to be a dragon lady of the vilest sort, and my dog Fluffy grew into a hellhound." He sniffs. "Raised him from a tiny little puppy, too. Had to put him down, after that."
Trouble scratches his head. "I don't understand it. Before, you always came through everything fine, with legendary rewards and happy endings."
The bulky fighter nods and takes his seat while Trouble begins to make some headway on his lapful of liquid. "Yeah. The whole world' just gone screwy on me. I came back here kinda hoping to find you, Trouble. After all, you're used to this sort of thing. Kind of thought you might be able to help me out."
The completely ordinary Farwanderer blinks at looks at the brawny hero. "Me? I can't even use my own portals properly. I'm always surrounded by problems."
Kumeg nods. "That's what I mean. And all the way through, not a scratch on ya. Seems like a useful skill. Anyway, it couldn't hurt.. well, at least not any worse." The mighty warrior adjusts a frayed armor strap around yet another bandage.
Trouble nods. "I tell myself that all the time.."
The two have a couple of drinks and get reacquianted, talking about the most recent adventures. Trouble relates how he nearly died eight times over the last year, while Kumeg talks a bit more about the problems that keep popping up. His have a much more impressive bodycount. Soon, feeling that they are sufficiently caught up, the two adventurers head out the door and wander down the huge circular corridor carved out in the rock.
"Maybe there's some simple solution to your problem, Kumeg. Something as reasonable as some curse or something."
"Say, that's a good idea." The brawny fighter attempts to think past a barrel's worth of liquor. "Madame Lark might know; isn't she just down the street?"
Trouble nods, surprised at how the world waves around after he does that. "She's as good as any, I hear."
The two of them stumble on down, somehow getting missed by every busy rider on horseback (or lizard back) as they go. One of the local Guardians notices their weaving pattern, but sees that one of them's Trouble and shrugs. Being drunk isn't a crime in this asteroid, and Trouble always does alright in the end.
A man dressed in a cloak verly nearly crimson in hue steps out of an alcove just down the hallway and begins moving in their direction. The cloak billowing out behind him as he moves with that self assured stride of someone who is on a mission and can't be delayed for even one moment. He pauses just in front of them and states simply, "You're looking for a mystic?"
The two pull up suddenly and ask, almost in unison, "How did you know that?"
"Well," Trouble replies, "we were heading down the street to Madame Lark's in order to ask about a possible curse..."
The mystic first looks shocked and then amazed and shocked once again at Trouble's reply. "That second rate hack!" He exclaims, "She couldn't mystic her way ouf of a can of sardines!" Pausing to regain his compsure and fix his mussed hair he continues, "Allow myself to introduce....myself, I am Rando the Simply Wonderful. Maybe you've heard of me?"
Trouble and Kumeg exchange a long, drunken look.
"No," they answer.
"Well," Kumeg says ponderously. "How much does your help cost?"
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