Baġdād, Iraq 1921
Dr. Moony sits at a table in his favorite hotel, sipping his favorite drink. You know him by the description you've received. He is a short man with balding, white hair. He wears his preferred dress; desert khakis, riding boots and a hat only an archaeologist would wear has been tossed upon the table.
You approach him cautiously. He has a weary look in his eyes as he surveys the room between sips. "Dr. Moony, I presume?" you say as you pull out a chair across from him.
He raises a shaggy, white eyebrow at your impertinence, but only motions you to sit. "Who are you?" he asks gruffly. You heard about his jaunt in the Nergal temple last year. Most of what you heard seems too fanciful for truth.
"I represent someone who shares a common interest with you. He is a wealthy man, who's health is failing. His name is not important. What he would like you to do for him, is."
"I don't take jobs anymore. I don't need money."
You know this to be true. The Nergal temple's discovery made Dr. Moony a very rich man. Still...
"What I have to tell you may change your mind." You lean closer to the doctor and lower your voice. "Ever hear of the plant of eternal life?"
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Choose your own Adventure ~ GoldFest 2008
