No.767676
>>767675Noting that the Beast no longer appears to be on this floor, and Amy's nose starts to lead her down towards the southern stairwell, Shorthorns nods her head in affirmation as she follows closely behind Amy's trusted sense of smell/adventure. "Lead on, Amy, let's find this 'Beast'…"
No.767677
>>767676>>767675"I just want to find that smell…"
No.767678
>>767676https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yb24FxVsNdYYou pick your way over the hallway floor, trying to find whatever spaces are clean enough for you to step…
As you reach the great stairwell, it looks rather clear, but it's dark. There are lit lights running down the walls, but even though the lights are on, and seem to have fresh enough bulbs, somehow their light cannot wade through much of the darkness… indeed, the darkness has a weight to it.
At the base of the stairs, there is a junction immediately before you. One path goes to the east, to your left (toward room 4). The other wing goes straight ahead of you, then bends westward, to your right (toward room 11).
Buiwong, having gotten serious, seems to have abandoned the housekeeping cart on the floor above.
No.767679
>>767678Shorthorns takes a look down the right corridor, then down to the left. Thinking for a moment, she nods and starts walking towards Room 4.
"Let's go this way, I have a good feeling… unless you picked up another scent?"
No.767680
>>767679>>767678Amy seems to have lost whatever scent she picked up entirely. "I have no idea where I am," Amy states flatly in response to Flaming.
She elects to follow Flaming into room 4.
No.767681
>>767678Amy's ear twitches as she senses danger.
>GO, GO, GO!Attribute: Buff
Tags: N/A
Effect: For the next 3 turns, you and all Allies gain another Action, or 2 Actions on a natural crit.
Duration: 3 Turns
Recharge: Once per Combat
>[1d10+2]Roll #1 3 + 2 = 5 No.767682
>>767681Shorthorn's hair stands on end as she sudden feels an overwhelming amount of menace and bloodlust fill the air. Normally, buffalo instinct would compel her to stand her ground, to form a tight circle with the rest of her herd and guard against any attacker from any direction.
But now, instead, her instinct was telling her the best option now wasn't to stand their ground, but to flee.
"Run!" She shouts, a white barrier forming around herself…
>Prayer for Salvation: Automatic; Recharge 2; The target's next recovery from Helplessness will be an Automatic Instant action, and the target will get +1 to all future attempts to get up until the end of combat.[1d10+1] Using other action to run/dodge
Roll #1 3 + 1 = 4 No.767684
>>767682>>767681As the other doors have been, the door to room 4 is exceptionally large, built for nothing less than a giant. So, you reach for the much more reasonably-sized servant's door built into it.
You open the servant's door. And, somebody on the other side opens the giant door.
You look up.
https://youtu.be/IQKe-U9XnmU?t=20And by the time that you realize that the Beast is looking back down at you, Buiwong has already snatched you both up in his webs and has yanked you back to the far end of the hall, near the intersection. You see a cloud of dust and evaporated gore, right where you were standing. Both of the Beast's fists are sunk into the floorboards. The Beast… perhaps you'd better spell it as BEAST – for it resembles TIRAC, but the resemblance to GROGAR is quite striking as well. The BEAST is an horrid, mutated atrocity, lumbering on a centipede's worth of mismatched legs, with a hulking, humanoid upper half, no small number of arms and spare organs grafted haphzardly everywhere onto the abdomen. The skin of a hundred faces stretches thin over the bulging form, TIRAC and GROGAR's among them. The swirling Rainbow of Darkness spins loose about him, like a toga and laurel crown, sopping and red by an orgiastic reverie of debaucherous bloodletting.
A strange glint of gold and silver pierces the darkness of the Rainbow, near the base of the neck. It catches your eye, but before you can process it, the BEAST has ripped himself free of the floor, turning to chase you. Buiwong's gotten the lead out as he sprints away, pulling you along with his webbing.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CWp1R41R46c
>Once per turn, on a Recharge of 5, you can command Buiwong to put down a web wall to block off the path. No.767686
>>767684"AAAAAAAAHHH!"
Shorthorns cries out as she quickly turns tail and runs from room 4, the massive amalgamation of horror pursuing closely behind. "T-that's not TIRAC! That's not even GROGAR, it's like… some kind of abomination!"
She looks back as Buiwong carries them along, looking at the gold/silver glint that pierces the veil of the Rainbow of Darkness. "There's something off about that part though…" she says, concentrating on her Spheres to create pillars of earth erupting from the floor itself to impede its progress
[1d10] Summoning Earth pillars to impede the BEAST
Roll #1 4 = 4 No.767687
[1d10] Also perception to get a better look at the gold/silver
Roll #1 4 = 4
No.767689
>>767684Amy barely responds to being suddenly dragged away. She's way more engaged in the visuals of the thing attacking them.
"What IS that!? HOW is that!?" Amy shrieks in confusion and horror at the bizarre thing.
Amy aims her new power at THE BEAST.
>>BLOODY MURDER "ACCIDENTS"Attribute: Debuff
Tags: Ranged; Spell
Effect: Increase the Target's Critfail range on all actions by 3
Duration: Until Dispelled
>[1d10+2]Amy's eye also glows red as she analyzes THE BEAST.
>Appraise: instant; Determine the number of remaining hits and wounds on an enemy, and possibly weaknesses. More powerful enemies may be harder to Appraise. Out of combat, quickly determine value of objects, study mechanisms and documents, size up other ponies, etc.>[1d10+1]Roll #1 1 + 2 = 3 /
Roll #2 3 + 1 = 4 No.767690
>>767689>>767687>rule of dubsThat metallic glint… it's a sword! A sword has been rammed through the BEAST's neck on the left side, just inside of the carotid artery, the tip of the blade poking out above the collarbone. The severed hand of the sword's last wielder still clings to the handle, on the backside of the neck. Whatever sword it may be, it was mighty enough to pierce the BEAST's mutated Tartarian flesh… and with one final push, it may yet finish the job.
>>767686>>767689Shorthorned raises stone pillars out of the floor, sending wood fragments flying as the earth rises up– but the BEAST punches through each and every one of them, spinning and staggering and lurching so as even to employ the many additional arms jutting every which way out of his abdomen, many of them limp and useless, reduced to bloody slabs as the BEAST rams them through the blockade of earth.
Buiwong flings you at the door of room 11, leaping over you, shadows engulfing his left side. As you tumble and collide with the doorframe, a solid wall of webbing engulfs the pathway, holding the BEAST at bay… but likely not for long.
Rather than bother with dramatic instructions, Buiwong darts back to where he tossed you.
>Buiwong's emergency skill used to negate Amy's critfail No.767692
>>767690Shorthorns exclaims as she sees the sword embedded in the hide of the incomprehensible monstrosity. "I see a sword! Could that be the Storm King's…?!"
She says as they continue to flee from it, but the color leaves from Shorthorn's already pale-white face as she sees it colliding non-stop into her pillars and not even slowing it down. "Well, if it can punch its way through THAT…"
Shorthorns presses her hooves to the floor, during the length of the hallway the BEAST travels into quicksand to swallow it. "Let's see what happens when its own weight is turned against it!"
[1d10] Floor to quicksand
Roll #1 3 = 3 No.767694
>>767690>>767692>>767690"We should just lose him for now," Amy says quickly. "If Moody really is here, she should be able to help."
>Vestigial Sunlight to find Mudi>[1d10+2]"Buiwong, keep carrying us, please," Amy demands, not even bothering with some cutesey name. "Get us out of here."
Roll #1 8 + 2 = 10 No.767696
>>767694>>767692Four additional gigantic spider-legs sprout from Buiwong's back, tragically ripping through the butler costume. He scoops up the both of you, grunting a little as he picks up Shorthorned, yet managing it with his divine strength. You can't see how the BEAST fares with the quicksand through the dense wall of webbing, but you can hear the squelching and tearing of a dozen shorn-off legs, ripped clean of their bony stumps as they're left behind in the floor, the BEAST slowed down not even a little bit.
The χορός in Amy's head advise her that Mudi's on the next Floor below you. They sing a quick litany of directions, which Amy relays to Buiwong, forgetting them the instant she says each one. Propelled by his mighty spider-legs, Buiwong rips through Room 11, 27, then 26 and up into Room 6. As Buiwong sees the myriad doors to choose from, you hear a stomping from the southeast. Amy realizes that the BEAST could get here if it only doubles back!!
No.767698
>>767696>>767692"Okay wait, hang on a sec!" Amy declares as they enter Room 6. Her brain is working faster than even she can comprehend.
"Okay - I," she huffs as she tries to think it all through. "I think I know how to get there, but it's going to bring us back around to near where we lost him."
She holds her head as she thinks fast. "If he turned around, then we're just going to run into him. We need to wait a sec to figure out which way he went."
Amy lets go of her head, and her ears perk up. She listens for the stomps of THE BEAST, trying to figure out which direction they are coming from.
>[1d10] to listenRoll #1 5 = 5 No.767700
>>767696>>767698"Go that way, that way!" Shorthorns shouts to Buiwong as he carries them, letting him do the literal leg work as she pushes him on towards the southeastern door, intent on pushing on towards door 10 and running south (in the southern stairwell at the bottom of the map to get down to Mudi)
As Amy relays her plans, Shorthorns nods. "Okay… okay! I think I have an idea!"
Using spheres of Life and Dark, she constructs three sacrificial stone statues, each one fully mobile and made to look like herself, Buiwong, and Amy - the intent being that these statues will wait for the BEAST, and then run off in the OPPOSITE direction from which they flee, drawing the BEAST away from them as they make their escape.
[1d10] Creating dummies to lead the Beast away
Roll #1 9 = 9 No.767701
>>767698He's in room 23, you can hear it! Your chorus of voices point out two routes for you: through room 10, the shorter way to the stairs, or through room 24, the longer way. There's a false wall in room 15, leading to room 8, which just might be able to cover your tracks if you were pursued through there…
No.767703
>>767701>>767700"He's coming from that door," Amy says quickly, pointing to room 13's door.
She sees the clones that Flaming made, then quickly says, "Have them lead him that way back the way we came. Keep him running in a loop as long as possible." Amy points in the direction of room 26 as she speaks.
"Buiwong, take us that way," Amy points to room 10. "Now, please."
No.767704
>>767698>>767700As Amy barks out which of the many doors Buiwong must take, Shorthorned conjures a small squad of decoys. In but a moment after they're summoned the south door to room 13 explodes from its hinges, scattering the many dummies every which way! Buiwong slips out through the dust and debris, and in the madness behind you, you can hear the BEAST laying into your dummies with a frenzied hunger to rival GLUTTONY's…
Buiwong skitters, taking no luxury from the momentary distraction. He blasts through room 10, down through 5, 25, 16, and at last to the stairwell. It's only once you see the stairs that you slip from Buiwong's grasp, hitting the floor with forward momentum. Buiwong's spider legs dissipate beneath him, and he collapses, his brow covered in sweat. Clutching one side of his head, he limps toward the stairwell. He reaches into his suit's breast pocket, pulling forth a slim, ornate box, and starts futzing with the lock even as he pants and wheezes toward the stairs…
No.767706
>>767704Shorthorns lets out a breath she hadn't known she'd been keeping in after they finally go down the next flight of stairs, her heart beating out of her chest as she looks up at the top of the stairs they hurried down. "Really… REALLY… hope it doesn't come down here…"
She picks herself up, groaning as she does, "Those statues barely bought us any time at all, nothing stops that thing… except that sword that managed to pierce it." She shakes her head, "We need to find more of the others first, hopefully they can-"
She pauses, noting Buiwong's ornate box as he starts to open it. "What's that?"
No.767708
>>767706>>767704Amy lies on her back on the floor. She stares up at the ceiling as her brain catches up with everything that just happened. "Thanks, Bullywong," Amy says quietly, still staring at the ceiling.
>>767706Amy looks to Flaming. "Do you think that was the sword we helped the Storm King find?"
No.767709
>>767708>>767706Buiwong finally manages to unlatch the box, and inside, though Buiwong tries to hide it in his shadow, you see a deep well of… strange treasures. The box is larger inside than without, and contains a diverse myriad of valuables – gemstones, precious metals, ikons and traditional offeratory meats and wines. Each of them is aethetic, translucent, and resplendent with spiritual energy, as you can sense through your divine nature. Buiwong snatches up a handful of the spectral treasures, scarfing them down as if he hadn't eaten anything in a week.
"Faith," Buiwong stammers between bites, though is careful not to drop any crumbs. "Hope. Joy. Take your pick of the virtues. I'm not sharing. Wouldn't be of help to you anyway…"
The aetheric snack seems to quickly revitalize him, and he stuffs the box back into his pocket, leading the way down to the next Floor. A distant quaking rocks this Floor to the north, as the BEAST obliterates the last of your decoys…
The stairs deposit you at a T-intersection, with a door to your left, a southbound hall to your right, and beyond it, an eastbound hall…
No.767710
>>767708"I only got a quick look at it but it sure looked sort of the same. And knowing how powerful that sword was when the Storm King used it earlier, I wouldn't be surprised if it managed to do some damage. It looked really stuck on there!"
She thinks, "If we can just get a hold of that sword and push it in further, or use it some other way, I think we can slay the BEAST."
>>767709At seeing it is merely a snack for the hungry spider-god, Shorthorn's thinks to deride him but, after what he just did, the least he is owed is a bite to eat and recover his strength.
She nods her head, and looks around, trying to gauge where to go next. "You said you felt Mudi down here? Any idea which way?"
No.767728
>>767710"Nope," Amy answers simply. "But, how hard could it be to find a witch?"
>>767709With that Amy goes to open the door on the left.
No.767729
>Both
Room 12, to the left, appears to be a storage room. All sorts of dusty crates and boxes fill the walls, blocking off a small closet to the northwest. Some of the crates are ajar, and inside you see many folders and books and scrolls and other such documents. Some have titles on the covers and spines… and no two seem to be written in the same language.
No.767730
>>767729>>767728Shorthorns rubs her chin as she notes all the crates and boxes blocking off the closet to the northwest. "Hmm… when you found me, *I* was in a small, closed off room with no other way out. Maybe she's in here?"
She says, working to move the crates out of the way and open the closet door.
No.767731
>>767730>>767729"True!" Amy says with a vigorous nod. "They should call you Smartyhorns!"
Amy starts moving boxes with Flaming.
>[1d10] if necessaryRoll #1 8 = 8 No.767732
>>767731"I JUST changed my name recently, I don't think I need to do it again… but that wouldn't be a bad idea either." She says, taking Amy's suggestion a little too literally
No.767733
>Both
Some of the boxes are ridiculously heavy, making even Shorthorned struggle to move them… but when it's done, you finally have access to the blocked-off room. Recalling how the BEAST was hidden behind a door just a Floor above, you take care to inspect it as thoroughly as you can, before opening it…
No BEAST jumps out at you. Instead, you find yet more boxes, stuffed behind the door. It's no small task to inspect and move these as well. But, when it's done… there's no Mudi. Just dust and dead roaches. Just before you can give up on the closet, however, you see a small key laying in the corner, as your one and only prize.
No.767734
>>767733Shorthorns huffs and wheezes as she finishes moving the last of the boxes, rubbing sweat from her brow. "Goodness… what's even IN these boxes that makes them so heavy?" She says, eyeing the key that remains in the closet after they're finished moving them.
She moves to pick up the key, but her curiosity must be sated as she opens up one of the crates to see what's making them so heavy
No.767735
>>767734Books, scrolls, tapestries, folders, documents, binders, flat glowing rectangular things, possessed of a strange magic, circular bits of that alien substrate called plass-tick, and so many other methods of storing information. Those which you can open are replete with words, and all of them are in languages you cannot understand, even with your enhanced intelligence. Those which ARE in languages you can understand… seem to be pure nonsense, an exercise in the random arrangement of letters and digits.
No.767736
>>767735Shorthorns looks over the various folders, scrolls, and weird bits of plassteek that fill the crates, shaking her head as she reads some of the parts she can. "Huh… I don't know about all of it but what I can read here all looks like gibberish, just a bunch of random letters. Like, these aren't actually meant to BE books or scrolls or anything, but just… pretend books, props."
She shakes her head, gripping the key between her cloven hooves. "Well, at least we got SOMETHING. Let's get moving."
>She says as she suggests moving on towards Room 6 to the East No.767737
>>767734>>767735"Looks like the kind of crazy stuff a crazy person would keep in a crazy place like this," Amy nods in satisfaction as if all her questions have been answer.
"At least we got this key," she says as she picks it up. She puts it in her… pocket? Wherever it is, it's safe now squirrelled away in the hammer space of her shapeshifting.
Amy follows Flaming.
No.767738
>Shorthorned
Buiwong glances over some of the texts in the crate. If he, the god of spiders, can make sense of them, he does not indicate so. With a grimace, he moves on, following behind you.
>For both
It's all quiet above you, and the hallway through which you travel, bloodstained and gore-smeared as it is, is also heavy with silence. You enter Room 6, and find that, just like 12, it's a storage area. The crates here are of a make and model identical to the ones in 12… and for some reason, you could swear that some of those boxes have the same patterns and layers of dust that the ones in Room 12 had. They're blocking the only other door to the room, to the southwest.
Some of the boxes are ajar, just as the ones in 12 were. Inside, you see… dirt. Clay. Sand. Mud. In other boxes, various kinds of liquids, remaining where they are without staining the box, even with no interior liner to keep the liquid insulated from the box itself. Still other boxes hold stranger things: Purple atmosphere. Dim flickering light, as from an old and yellowed bulb. A sensation of boredom. A box full of anxiety. There is no telling how you can perceive these things inside what look like plain boxes, but all the same, that's what you experience when you behold the boxes' contents.
No.767739
>>767738Shorthorns gazes into the contents of one of the more bizarre boxes containing outright EMOTION within them, before putting the lid back on and pushing it to the side, deeply disturbed.
"I think this floor must be some sort of storage area, and what they store is… well, it looks like everything! The book props and stuff were one thing, but this room looks like they keep everything they need to put together… I guess some sort of stage or scene? That'd explain why they want something like atmosphere in a box…"
Seeing nothing else of note, she pushes on to room 15
No.767740
>>767739>>767738"These are some handy boxes!" Amy exclaims, impressed by their contents. "I wonder how they hold boredom. It's kinda cool. Does that mean that it's not boredom in the box?"
Amy distracts herself with these nonsensical thoughts as she pushes through the boxes to the exit on the other side.
No.767741
>>767740"…I wonder if these might work on the BEAST." Shorthorns thinks aloud. "Like, if we find a box full of 'calm down and relax', we could throw it at the BEAST and make it at least a little more passive."
No.767742
>>767741"I think it'd take a LOT of calm down boxes to do anything to that big ball of angry," Amy entertains the idea.
No.767743
>For both
You shove aside more boxes to clear the way toward the door, and beyond it is a southbound hall, toward Room 15. About halfway down the hall, the architecture abruptly changes. Behind you it is the ornate, almost baroque architecture you have seen so far in the Castle. Only a step ahead of you, as if taken from another Castle altogether, and grafted on here, is cracked and dank brick. Torch sconces replace the well-kept magitech lighting that came before it. The floor is grimy and has not seen a mop in ages. The door before you is heavy, coarse wood, with a barred window at the top, belonging more in a prison than in the estate of a distinguished lord.
Room 15 is much the same as the hall. Chains and cuffs line the walls. The discarded refuse of broken torture equipment lies mouldering in the corners. The blood here is very old, having turned to black crust and lost its scent. While ominous in other contexts, perhaps it means that neither the BEAST nor his captives have been through here recently…
There are three more doors in Room 15; one to your right, westbound toward Room 2; one to the South, toward Room 3; one eastbound, toward Room 20.
No.767744
>>767742"You're probably right. But, doesn't hurt to think outside the box… or I guess, INSIDE the box in this case." Shorthorns snorts at her own joke.
>>767743Shorthorns turns to look at all the unnerving torture devices of a deceivingly more medieval and disturbing castle, feeling her nerves tense up as she keeps a closer eye around things.
She looks at the options in the current room, surrounded by more scattered implements of torture, and points towards the eastward door to door 20. "This way next. Just following a feeling."
No.767745
>>767743>>767741"Huh…" Amy says as she looks around the torture chamber. "You know, usually I'd say this room is creepy. But, this IS Wrath's castle. You'd think the people here would like it rough. I think… this room might be kinky…"
>>767744"But, you also gotta think about the SIZE of the box. WE don't really know how much boredom that box holds, you know?"
No.767746
>>767745>>767744Amy follows to room 20.
No.767747
>For Both
Rooms 20, 11 and 16 are much the same – staging grounds for whatever prison guards and torturers must have once staffed this dreadful place. There are grates in the walls where prisoners were once stuck, and implements are kept at the ready nearby in the room for their torment. Many of these torture devices are so worn down from repeated use that they are dulled and faded, broken now beyond repair. Only bone dust and faded stains remain where once prisoners were kept…
Finding naught of note, you finally make your way to room 13. At the far end, you see a barred door, locked tight. Beyond the barred door, a hall extends, and turns to the left. No light permeates that darkened space, so you cannot tell what may be back there.
No.767748
>>767747>>767744"Well that's scary…" Amy says as she looks into the darkness beyond the bars.
"Boo-Ong," Amy says to the spider. "Can't you go through and see what's down there?"
No.767749
>>767748"Can't you!?" Buiwong asks. "I left all my cleaning supplies upstairs! I'm sure you got a broom or something somewhere in… wherever you keep your personals."
No.767750
>>767745"'Kinky'…?" Shorthorns asks, mildly perturbed by the insinuation. She only just barely has the grasp of what 'kinky' even means, much less how any of *this* could be considered such. "Seriously?"
>>767747When they come across the locked door, Shorthorns brandishes the key she found earlier, and tries to unlock the door. If it fails to unlock it, she tries to knock the door down by brute force
No.767751
>>767750[1d10] Reaction Speed roll
Roll #1 7 = 7 No.767752
>>767750"You'd be surprised - and probably horrified - of what some of the demons around here are into. To be clear!" she adds quickly and loudly afterwards. "I'm not one of those demons! I mean… not like THIS," she says, gesturing to the torture devices.
"You know, a little bit of playing rough is fun, but this is a little bit… too much blood for me. But, you can get away with a lot when dying isn't permanent. I don't THINK I ever died, but the ones who died a lot get a lot more… reckless. Kinda funny and sad how the best looking demons are also the safest."
>>767749Amy sighs. "Fine…"
Amy is about to shapeshift before Flaming pulls out the key.
>>767750"Oh yeah… I forgot already!"
No.767753
>Both
Shorthorned's ready this time. As she turns the key in the lock, she feels a dread premonition, and leaps back, smothering both Amy and Buiwong with a fluffy buffalo coat in the process. As the key turns in the door, a powerful sealing magic contained in the door erupts, scorching all the brick around it. Nothing remains of the door, and in fact, little remains of the threshold around it. The same may have befallen you had you not dodged in time.
As you recover from the shockwave of the unleashed seal, there's a stirring in the darkness.
Something humanoid leans at the edge of the shadowed hallway's bend.
No.767754
>>767753"Hi, hello!" Amy says happily, waving at the figure in the darkness.
"You're free now, isn't that cool!?"
>[1d10] to coax the figure out of hiding>DC-4Roll #1 1 = 1 No.767755
>>767752The young buffalo shudders a little bit at the implications of what Amy is saying, the concept of creatures 'enjoying' torture and even death to such a degree. "Uggh… kinda feel sorry I asked, that's… that's weird. THEY'RE weird."
>>767753As the door suddenly erupts into a violent flame, scorching and disintegrating everything around it, Shorthorns takes a short gasp, relieved she had been fast enough to dodge that in time. "AGH! I… wasn't expecting that, phew… will need to be careful with any doors we find."
She sees the humanoid shape leaning at the edge of the darkness, and while Amy works to coerce it out, Shorthorns stands ready to fight in case it proves hostile.
No.767756
>Bothhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-f9GIKg67bYThe shadows shift. A heavy step echoes off the cold, filthy brick. Then another.
The humanoid slouches forward, head low, arms thick with scars, and tense.
Buiwong begins nudging you two toward the door, making no sudden movements.
The humanoid is tall, and stoops as it reaches the end of the hall. You realize that the prison-hall was built for a captive much smaller than this figure; the humanoid must have been thrown in there for that very reason of cruelty.
As it exits the hall, the humanoid stands up, stretching out but a little. It remains slouched, perhaps from habit… perhaps another reason.
It is some manner of gargoyle, with light tan fur, an elongated head, a shaggy mane of filthy, bug-strewn brown. Muscular, yet emaciated, clad in a tarnished belt of a champion… now broken. A shattered tail hangs limp from his backside.
Scorpan staggers toward the door, disregarding you entirely, not giving you a word, not so much as a glance.
No.767766
>>767756Shorthorns backs up a few steps, looking up at the scope of this tall gargoyle walking out from the darkness of the doorway, but as he moves past them without so much as a glance, her look of trepidation turns to one of curiosity. "Uhhh… hey there?" She asks, trying to get his attention.
"Who are you? We were looking for someone who should be around here but, you don't look like her."
No.767767
>>767766>>767756"Wow… Rude," Amy pouts as she doesn't even get acknowledged. "We DID just save you, you know."
>[1d10] to get some sort of friendly interactionRoll #1 2 = 2 No.767768
>>767767For what it's worth, that has a DC-4.
No.767769
>Both
Scorpan keeps moving, not heeding even one of your words… assuming he can even hear you. It looks like it's taking all that he has just to remain upright, and moving forward…
He makes it to the door, raising his head only a little to listen, to taste the air. He doesn't stop moving, perhaps for fear that losing his momentum would mean never regaining it. Buiwong watches him with mild interest, but says nothing about it. He tilts his head toward Scorpan, indicating that you might follow him… at a distance.
No.767770
>>767769Amy notices the way he walks and realizes that he might be hurt.
Amy pulls out a potion and runs to catch up to Scorpan. "Here, this will help," she says with a smile.
>Natural Remedy>[1d10+4]Roll #1 1 + 4 = 5 No.767772
>>767771>>767769"Oh!" Amy says really quickly as she pulls the bottle back. She realizes she pulled out… the wrong one.
"Sorry, that's not right… Heh," she laughs awkwardly. "Here, drink THIS one."
No.767773
>>767769Shorthorns continues to look towards the lumbering, towering gargoyle, noticing the odd gait to his walk as though he is struggling to simply hold himself upright.
"Wait, hold on! Are you hurt?" She asks aloud, moving ahead to block his path as Amy brings out a cure for his remedies (hopefully). "We'd appreciate if you could fill us in a LITTLE about this place, have you been here for long?"
No.767774
>Amy
Scorpan scoops up the potion, brings it up, and crushes it. The shards of glass don't even so much as prick his armor-like skin. Some of his injuries gradually regenerate, though they look so old that it will take quite some time for a full recovery. You hear some manner of low growl… that's probably all you'll get as far as gratitude.
>Both
Scorpan looks back and holds a finger over his mouth… you sense that he hunts the BEAST. It wouldn't do for it to find you first.
You make it back to Room 15. Room 3 waits to the south, while Room 2 would require taking the west exit. Scorpan at last slows his pace… and, with some trepidation, pauses. Upon finding that he hasn't collapsed, he attunes his senses to the atmosphere once more.
>roll perception
No.767775
>>767774>>767772Shorthorns looks at Amy with a curious look, trying to get a gauge on what she thinks of this creature. Not at all satisfied with his lack of answering ANYTHING they've had to say so far, Shorthorns moves in front of him as he pauses and checks his surroundings.
"Okay, stop right there. I'm not gonna let you take another step until you tell us who you are and what you were doing in that doorway."
[1d10] Sensing
Roll #1 1 = 1 No.767776
>>767775>>767774Amy shrugs. "Let's see what he does. He seems like he has a goal in mind."
Amy silently follows Scorpan.
No.767777
>Both
As Shorthorned jumps in front of Scorpan, she ends up positioning herself in front of the door that leads to the hall connecting Rooms 3 and 2. Scorpan's head snaps that way, and he picks up Shorthorned, despite her great size, and scoots her over away from the door. Not a second later, the door shatters, spraying wood splinters and scrap metal across the room. Through the dust and the noise, you see a tall, silhouette– Sir Gegenschein! On reflex his eyes widen, and he levels his cannon at you. Yet in a bit of luck, the dust clears in time, and when he registers your forms, he lowers the gun.
"Move move move move move move move move move!!" shouts the smaller figure behind Gegenschein. The voice belongs to Mudi.
No.767778
>>767777>>767776Shorthorns lets out a small "HEY!" in protest as she's casually picked up and moved aside by the gargoyle, but as the door behind her splinters open and two familiar figures charge through it, she lets down her guard and lets out a sigh of relief, "Mudi! So you *were* on this floor! And Gegenschein too?" She says, looking towards Buiwong and Amy, "That's great, who all are we missing now?"
She pauses, stopping to look at Mudi, "Wait, move? Move from… is something following you?" She says, her white face paling even more somehow as she considers the possibility of the BEAST on this floor.
>Also what costumes are Gegenschein and Mudi wearing, if any? No.767779
>>767778"I think it's just Hope," Amy says, not having time to remember if she's using her stupid nickname or her real name. Amy is already following Mudi's advice and running in the other direction.
When Amy reaches the end of the hallway, she stops at the entrance to 15. She stands halfway in the doorway so that only her head is showing. She watches to see what Scorpan does.
No.767780
>Both
You see that Mudi is dressed like a student, as if she'd just enrolled in a prestigious magic academy. Gegenschein has the colorful, patterned armor-fashion of a landschknect. Though, their costumes are close to falling off. Both of them are badly injured, but Gegenschein is the worse off. His right arm hangs broken and useless at his side, and he's forced to keep his gabelkreuz slung across his back on the left side. Not that that would interfere with his flying… after all, his left wing has been torn off.
As the two stumble into Room 15, they turn back toward the hall from which they came, leveling their weapons at it. You hear stampeding hooves, feel a surging rush from that direction, a flooding of malevolence and savage hatred–!
Yet–
Just as your instincts warn you to run, all at once, the sensations simply vanish. Nothing comes from the direction of Room 2. Gegenschein and Mudi stand there, weapons still raised, gasping to catch their breath.
No.767781
>>767780Shorthorn stomps her hooves, ready to meet whatever is coming their way (or to turn tail and run as fast as she can if it proves to be the BEAST) but as the noises all disappear right before it seems to reach them, she looks on curiously. She blinks a few times, before turning to look at Mudi and Gegenschein, "What happened? What were you running from, was it the BEAST?"
No.767782
>>767781>>767780Amy continues to watch Scorpan intently. "Why do you think he was in a prison cell?" Amy asks slowly, being uncharacteristically analytical.
No.767783
>>767782>>767780Also, [1d10] to listen for the steps coming from another direction.
Roll #1 4 = 4 No.767785
>Both
The tense silence lingers for a while yet, and only after the longest minute of your lives do Mudi and Gegenschein lower their weapons, albeit slowly.
>Shorthorned
"Hhhhhhah," Gegenschein grimaces with pain, forcing out a laugh. "Funny, I was just thinking of what to name the bastard for my report and had just settled on that term – capitalized, for emphasis."
Mudi collapses to the ground, shuddering with fear, her eyes blank with shock.
>Amy
Scorpan looks down at you. He looks at some of his former injuries, now restored, and perhaps feeling a bit of debt for your healing, he finally speaks.
"Rose against… TIRAC," Scorpan struggles, wheezing. "To save my friends. We won… for a time. Yet, I felt some small regret, as if… there could have been another way. For TIRAC to see the light, as I had, and be brought to it. The second chance I wanted came to pass… TIRAC returned… animated by nothing but vengeance. I tried to redeem him… and he took that opening for all it was worth… annihilating everything I saved from him before.
His head hangs low with shame. "This time, I'll end it… and do it right this time."
No.767786
>>767785Amy frowns. "You weren't wrong for wanting to make him better. You just weren't strong enough to do it. It honestly means a lot to hear that there's someone out there that saw good in him once. Maybe some day we can save him from himself. I already have some ideas."
"But, that day isn't today. Today, we need to survive. I promise if you come with us, you will see that our plan can save TIRAC AND everyone else. Eventually."
She turns to Mudi and adds to the shock-stricken pony, "We're doing good here, Moody."
>[1d10+4] Mantra of Equality to inspire people>DC-4Also, as she finishes her speech, she hands off a potion to Gegenschein.
>Natural Remedy>[1d10+4]Roll #1 10 + 4 = 14 /
Roll #2 3 + 4 = 7 No.767788
>>767785Shorthorns sighs as Gegenschein confirms they had a run in with the BEAST. "I was afraid of that… we thought we'd lost it on the floor above us but I guess it made its way down here. Only question is…" she says, looking towards the door. "Why did it vanish? I could FEEL it barreling down on us and then it just… poof, disappeared…"
>>767786>>767785As Amy gets to work trying to heal Mudi and Gegeschein's injuries, Shorthorns listens to the gargoyle's sad tale, frowning as he explains that he'd lost everything he'd previously protected from TIRAC. She lowers her head solemnly.
"I'm sorry for your loss. That must have been terrible… but Amy's right. You didn't do anything wrong trying to give TIRAC another chance. We've learned from experience that bad people can turn things around with guidance… I'm not familiar enough with the Lord of Violence to judge him, I'm sure you did everything you possibly could have."
She pauses, trying to get a sense of the BEAST's location. "A lot has happened though since TIRAC imprisoned you, do you have any idea what's been going on outside this castle?"
[1d10] Perception
Roll #1 7 = 7 No.767789
>Shorthorned
"I saw it do that before," Gegenschein says, sitting down himself. "Manifesting and dissipating seemingly at will. Being at least somewhat comprised of the former lord of the Castle seems to afford the BEAST a certain degree of free reign within it. We must take conventional means between Floors, but the BEAST can move as it pleases. We should count ourselves lucky it has lost its rationality…"
Far, far below, you feel the distant rumbling of violence.
>Both
"Yes…" Scorpan sighs in response to Amy. "I am not strong enough, myself. But as I learned from those I once saved… I do not have to be strong enough myself. Together, we are made stronger than any of us can be alone. Now that you are here… I am certain it will be enough."
Gegenschein cracks open the potion, but saves Mudi the last half of it.
Mudi stares at him with teeth clenched. "Stop it… that's enough."
"Not your preferred flavor?" Gegenschein asks.
"You…" Mudi sneers. "Just… just drink the rest! You… don't have to keep doing things for me. You took that hit that was coming my way. That's already too much for you to do!"
No.767790
>>767789"Looks like you're the only person here that doesn't like help, Moody," Amy says with a soft smile. "I guess that's something you and Vizzy have in common," Amy says with a wag of her tail, not meaning for it to be an insult at all.
No.767791
>>767789Shorthorns looks over at Gegenschein and Mudi seemingly fighting, noting how Mudi says that Gegen keeps 'doing things for her' and her interest is piqued, turning her head quizzically as he wonders if the two usually acted like this around each other. She leaves them to their business for now though, and looks up to the Gargoyle.
"I'm sure at the bare minimum, our odds of survival are greatly increased if we work together." She puts her hoof on her chest, "I am Shorthorned Dragon of the Climbing Fire Clan. This is Amy Thest," she turns to introduce Amy, "Buiwong, Sir Gegenschein, and Mudi. Might we have your name, sir?"
No.767792
>Both
As Mudi castigates Gegenschein for his apparent kindness toward her… you recall Buiwong's "advice," given you at the top of Regina's tower in Threecoins.
Mudi and Vizsla, having been corrupted by GEHENNA with the essence of Betrayal… is weakened by all acts of benevolence and goodwill. From kindness… to friendship. Thus, for Gegenschein to shield her from some of the BEAST's attacks, even at the cost of losing a wing… it's tantamount to an attack. Hence, her anger at his gestures. Yet, when Amy was traveling with her to get the ingredients for the Vestal's tea party… Mudi almost seemed like she was having fun, despite the detriment it must have had on her power. She must ever live in this contradiction…
Gegenschein shrugs and drinks the potion at Mudi's word. Mudi sighs and looks down as Amy speaks, offering no response. Buiwong pretends not to notice.
"Scorpan," the gargoyle answers. The others give their curt greetings, before Scorpan looks about again. "We should keep moving. The longer we take, the more the BEAST shall slay."
No.767795
>>767792Shorthorns nods in agreement with Scorpan. "Agreed, let's keep moving… assuming Gegenschein and Mudi, you're both okay to move?" She says, looking towards their current condition.
>Presuming they're good to move, she pushes on towards Room 3"We fought the BEAST very briefly on the floor above us… actually, 'fight' is probably way too generous for us, more like 'survived'. Does anyone have any clues on how to beat this thing?"
No.767796
>>767792"Don't worry, Moody! At least *I* know how to be a good friend to you," Amy says reassuringly.
When Scorpan finally introduces himself, Amy can't help but gallop over to him and hug him. "It's so nice to meet you! My name is Amy! Amy Thest!"
But, she quickly lets go when she remembers the dire situation they are in and notices Flaming moving on. "Wait for me, Shortyhorns!"
>moving on to room 3 No.767797
>Shorthorned
"Our attacks only slowed it," Gegenschein says. "Which is not to say that we didn't damage it. My last shot blew a hole from its hip-bone to his ribcage. But this only seemed to infuriate the BEAST, and it regenerated its flesh in a flash, catching its intestines just as they threatened to fall to the floor. Being comprised out of the Kings of VIOLENCE and WRATH means that any prolonged battle will only feed the BEAST. Our attack must needs be singular, instantaneous, and fatal."
"That sword in its neck…" Mudi says. "My magic couldn't take hold of it for whatever reason. But it's right there, stuck in its neck. I think… someone would have to grab it by hand and finish the cut to do the trick."
>Amy
"Then quit spelling my name that way…" Mudi grumbles.
Scorpan does not return your hug.
>Both
You inspect Room 3, and the small closet to the west, as well. Doesn't look like there's anything of note here. Taking a quick glance ahead, it seems that Rooms 19 and 2 are similar – small torture chambers filled with naught but the remains of their prisoners and the implements of their demise.
No.767798
>>767797"What if we somehow got it to cut its own neck…?" Amy considers out loud.
No.767799
>>767797"I noticed the sword too, I think it may have been the Storm King's. If it could pierce his neck like that, it's definitely our best hope, but the problem is obviously getting close enough to use it without being torn to shreds. Nothing we tried seemed to slow the BEAST down in the slightest, we only got away because I used a distraction."
She turns to Scorpan, "TIRAC is part of that thing now, so that might mean it shares his weaknesses. Would you have any in mind?"
>Seeing 19 and 2 don't seem to hold much promise, Shorthorns advices moving on towards the lower half of the maze, exploring 14/17/10 No.767800
>Both
Scorpan thinks it over as you proceed through Rooms 14 and 17, stopping at 10. A gallery of horrors, just as all the prison chambers that you have come to so far have been. Still, not much of use… this Floor must have been some manner of entertainment for the Lord of VIOLENCE, for even though the implements of torture and sadism are worn down and destroyed from overuse, you can still tell that there is a nauseating variety of implements present, many no doubt taken even from foreign lands, taken as part of TIRAC's campaign of conquest the way a tourist would take a souvenir.
"I will restrain him," Scorpan declares. "You lot, take hold of the Sword."
Gegenschein, Buiwong and Mudi remain silent at this suggestion… knowing the likely outcome. Scorpan, losing interest in Room 10, is already moving back to the hall for the long trek to Room 5.
No.767801
>>767800Shorthorns is likewise not a fan of the plan, knowing that trying to restrain the BEAST will likely spell Scorpan's doom. "You really think you can restrain it? I threw columns of earth and a bog of quicksand at it, neither held it for more than a moment." She asks, trying to dissuade him from this plan (or at least gauge how viable it really is)
>Following him to Room 5 No.767802
>>767800"I just want to stay that I stand by what I said before. If we have a chance to save TIRAC, I'd like to. But, like I also said, if we're not strong enough to do it, then we have to do what we can right now. And, we're definitely not strong enough to fight any kind of fair fight against that thing…"
"Luckily, we're in Tartarus. I know that dying can usually have some bad consequences, even down here. But, if he came back from it once, I have faith he can pull it off again. Then, we can find a way to fix him better."
>>767801"If he's TIRAC's old friend, maybe it's like really strong. Besides, maybe Scorpion holding down the BEAST will have some affect on the BEAST. Maybe he'll end up cutting his own neck."
No.767803
>Both
"I won't be able to do it for long," Scorpan says. "But the sight of me may bring out a little of TIRAC from the BEAST. In the rare times when his mood was not foul, we dueled in the sport of wrestling. During our bouts, I almost always took the upper hand at the start. He couldn't think fast, couldn't adapt to surprises… it was only through sheer power that he muscled through my pins and holds to beat me. So it shall be here. You'll need to move fast."
It is in Room 5 that the scenery abruptly re-transitions back to its elegant decorations that you first saw in your arrival here, the transition abrupt and without fanfare. It was clearly a deliberate architectural choice, TIRAC perhaps finding some dry humor in the juxtaposition… Yet the technique is ruined here, for across the ornate rugs and bespoke furniture is a red mess of death. The soldiers of the other Layers lay strewn about here. Trampled, half-eaten, the remainder left like so many table scraps.
Gegenschein nods. "Ah, familiar territory. I awoke somewhere west of here, and Mudi was quite close to the stairwell to the north."
Another rumble comes from far, far below…
Mudi shudders. "Then we'd better be ready… the stairs are just beyond here."
>skip to the downward stairwell available
No.767804
>>767803>>767802Shorthorns looks towards Amy, nodding at her idea. "That's actually one idea I think we could try for - nothing is stronger than the BEAST itself, so what if it were by the BEAST's own hoof that the killing blow was struck? It's made, rampaging and out of control, we could find a way to trick it into pressing down on the sword embedded in its neck, surely…" she suggests, trying to dissuade Scorpan from what sounds like a sacrificial play.
"But, you have made your point. BEAST may hesitate or be thrown off by your appearance. What if then I could create a duplicate of you, something that would achieve the same effect without putting your life in danger?"
>Ready for skip to stairs No.767805
>>767804>>767803"Oooh! A duplicate is a good idea if it acts like him!"
>timeskip to stairs No.767806
>Both
Scorpan grumbles as you bring up the idea of using a doppelganger on the front lines. "…Would it command even half of my strength or technique?"
"Hey, hey, hey," Buiwong says. "You said your plan hinged on the element of surprise, not the element of strength! Don't be so eager to get yourself killed…"
Buiwong lowers his face, and raises his eyes. "…on account of your lingering guilt."
Scorpan scowls and glares at Buiwong. "…Enough. I am… not accustomed to working with others. I… will try to trust you. So long as you yourselves do your best not to get yourselves killed either."
You reach the stairs leading down to the Floor below… you extend each of your senses… it seems clear, at least in the area around the stairwell. Thus, you descend.
There's another corridor ahead of you, turning west, then south, then west again. There's a room, Room 15, to the north, and Room 8 to the south.
No.767807
>>767806Shorthorns shakes her head, "Probably not, but it sounds like it wouldn't have to - if just seeing you could throw off the Beast, even for a moment, that would help, and it means YOU could apply your strength in another place that wouldn't put you at the forefront of its ire."
She nods eagerly in agreement when he asks that they not try to sacrifice themselves either. "Deal. We've already had enough of that as it were…"
>Checking out Room 15 first No.767808
>>767806"Hmm," Amy ponders for a moment. Her tail flicks back and forth thoughtfully. She stares at Buiwong for a moment. "You know, I kinda hate admitting that I have anything in common with a god, but we're both pretty good at convincing people to do things. It almost makes me think you care sometimes."
>>767807>>767806Amy follows Flaming to room 15. "It WOULD be pretty cool if we could get it to attack the decoy while it's on his own neck and he ends up slicing himself with the sword…"
No.767809
>>767808Perception pls
>[1d10]Roll #1 6 = 6 No.767810
[1d10] Perception roll
Roll #1 2 = 2
No.767811
>Amy
"Hohohohoho," Buiwong laughs. "And here my granddaughter calls me a ham actor. I'm a spider, not a pig. One day, I'll have you fully applauding a performance of mine."
>Both
In Room 15, you see a large closet stocked with housekeeping supplies, as well as some old chairs and couches and an ice-box, for the convenience of the servants. Considering how large each Floor is, there's probably quite a few on each Floor.
You note a portrait hanging on the wall – "Servant of the Month."
If that were all, it would hardly even be worth remembering, and you do have business to attend to… but Amy can't shake the feeling that the eyes of the portrait are looking at you. The eyes slide from one member of your group to another, on a steady percussion rhythm.
No.767813
>>767811Amy stares at the portraits. "I wouldn't it find it all that weird that the picture is looking around… But why is it looking around in such a weird rhythm…?"
Amy watches the rhythm to see if they are looking at the same people in the same order each time.
[1d10] further perception
Roll #1 8 = 8 No.767814
>>767811>>767813Shorthorns looks around at the seemingly uninteresting storage closet, Shorthorns is about to leave before she takes notice of the portrait on the wall as Amy calls attention to it. "Rhythm? What rhythm?" She asks as she looks at the 'Servant of the Month' portrait, and trying to see if it looks familiar to her.
[1d10] Further perception if needed
Roll #1 6 = 6 No.767815
>Both
The more that you look at the portrait, the more you realize that you just cannot make any sense of this person's face. It's like trying to hold a moment of time in your hand, or trying to remember an answer while taking a final exam. There, and gone again. Only the eyes stay with you, and only barely. The good news, perhaps, is that they are not TIRAC nor GROGAR's eyes. The BEAST does not have any eyes, not in its skull anyway.
In any case, the eyes aren't bouncing around in any particular order. In fact, the eyes are bouncing around independently of one another.
You, and you alone, hear a little voice. Hey, didn't want to take up too much of your time or anything, but quick question, and be quick in your answer: you want any help with this next part? As you can see, I've got some good reviews…
No.767816
>>767815"Wh-what? Yes, I'd like help," Amy answers the question quickly, as requested. As she does so, she looks around in confusion, looking for the source of the voice.
[1d10] to determine if she recognizes the voice
Roll #1 8 = 8 No.767817
>>767815>>767816Shorthorns lets out a small 'yelp' as she suddenly hears the voice, looking around for a source before realizing it's coming from the portrait itself.
"You…? Who are you?" Shorthorns asks aloud, unsure if the others could hear the voice as she approaches the portrait, still trying to get a sense of WHAT this entity looks like as she tries to wrap her head around the illusion. "Are you another servant of TIRAC's?"
No.767819
>Both
You don't quite recognize the voice itself, the tone and pitch… but something about the manner of speaking, the demeanor and rhythm, is much more familiar. You heard it relatively recently, and yet it remains implacable…
Oh I just love helping people, wisely done. Now get your asses in action and stop admiring my picture! You'll have time for that later!
The eyes stop bouncing, and soberly look forward as one might expect for a professional portrait. You find yourselves being poked and jostled but lightly by Mudi and Buiwong. Gegenschein's arm still hurts too much for him to jostle you, so he settles for words. "Are you alright?" Gegenschein asks. "We'll have time for art admiration once we're back on the surface world."
Scorpan impatiently waits by the door.
No.767820
>>767819"The picture is telling me what to do," Amy says matter-of-factly as she's encouraged to keep moving by her allies.
"You want us to get moving?" she asks as she looks back up at the portrait. But, where does the help come into this?
No.767821
>>767820That last sentence was supposed to be in quotation marks.
No.767823
>>767820The portrait offers no response.
No.767824
>>767819Shorthorns's mind racks itself as she tries to recall where she'd heard this exact tone and rhythm of voice before, eating away at her. "I heard that voice before… or something just like it, really recently too. What was it?"
She shakes her head, "Like Amy said, it was that portrait! It spoke to us just now, and told us it was going to help us. I don't really know what its angle is, but I'll take any help we can get at this point, so long as we keep on our guard."
"For now it told us to get moving, I'm sure well figure something else out along the way."
>Going to 8 No.767825
>>767823>>767819Amy huffs. "Fine. I better get some help out of this," she says as she turns to follow Scorpan.
"Do you know that guy is?" Amy asks Scorpan, gesturing to the portrait.
No.767826
>Amy
Scorpan double-takes at the portrait, then turns away from it. "No, but then again, I've been imprisoned for quite some time. Perhaps they were hired quite recently."
>Both
Considering all that you've seen and dealt with thus far on your journey, a talking portrait is hardly out of the question. What is perhaps food for thought, though, is the fact that the portrait seemed to have singled out you two. The others look to one another, but it seems that only you two got to hear its voice, and see its wacky eyes, for that matter.
As you move to Room 8 [a game room, judging by the wide table in the middle, the multitude of chairs and the actual board and card games lining the walls], you feel another faint rumble, made distant and soft from being presumably many Floors below you.
But then, the rumbling cuts off, mid-sound. there is sound, then immediate silence, no fade-out, no decay, no echo. As if the source of the sound had been whisked away elsewhere with no advance warning…
No.767836
>>767826Shorthorn's ears twitch at the sudden rumbling and then disappearance of the disturbance. "We need to be on constant guard. The BEAST can move between floors in an instant I think and there's no telling when or where he might pop up."
As they explore Room 8, Shorthorns looks to see if there is anything of note, and if not then she suggests moving on to the next series of hallways, specifically towards Room 16 unless the portrait (or who it represented) appears to offer another hint.
[1d10] Perception
Roll #1 5 = 5 No.767839
>>767826Amy looks around the room. "Oooh! This room looks fun!" she say as she wags her tail.
Though, her tail stops wagging when she hears the sound above them suddenly die down. "It could be on our floor now…" Amy contemplates with trepidation in her voice.
Amy goes to the game table to see if there's already a game set up on it.
No.767840
>>767836>>767839There's some manner of wargame on the table. Two armies of painted mini-figurines stand upon a map; ships, caravans, infantry, artillery. Scorpan's face relaxes, but a little, and a faint wistful nostalgia takes over. He moves a few pieces about, advancing his forces against the foe. The battle looks to be against him, but in war, nothing is certain…
Scorpan tears his gaze away from the table, focusing back on the door beyond it.
No.767841
>>767840Amy sees Scorpan get into the game, and her tail starts wagging again. She starts lightly moving troops with some small taps of her hoof-paws. She's not really sure where they are supposed to be going.
"What are the rules?" she asks Scorpan.
No.767842
>>767841Shorthorns shakes her head, "I don't think that's a game, Amy. It looks like a war table… you know, like how leaders use to plan strategies and stuff?"
>>767840She looks up wistfully at Scorpan, imagining he might have spent time at this table in the past, but pushes onward towards room 8
No.767844
>>767841>>767842"Wh-what? No! This is totally a game! Right, Scorpy?"
As she objects, she gallops to catch up to everyone leaving the room.
>>767840[1d10] reaction
Roll #1 3 = 3 No.767845
[1d10] Reaction roll
Roll #1 1 = 1
No.767846
>Amy
"Depends which edition," Scorpan asks. "Purists like myself and TIRAC preferred the earlier ones. But, I'm sure each release is somewhere on these shelves. Do you have time to read a book that weighs about half as much as you?"
>Both
You head south through room 8's leftmost door at Scorpan's direction. The giant hall soon turns westward, where you see two junctions. Your curiosity leads you toward the farther one–
The glint of the sword's golden pommel catches your eye.
You but briefly see it, to the north, on your right.
The BEAST, covered with fresh gore, and fresh wounds, lingers before the door to room 9, frozen as if surprised, or in thought. Yet no thoughts remain for the BEAST. As your paces shudder to a halt on instinct, that enough is to trigger the BEAST to hunt yet again. With a sickening shift, all the BEAST's legs migrate from the bottom of its body to the top, bones commuting around organs and through flesh, planting themselves upon the ceiling. The BEAST rolls across the rug of the floor, rolling about to look southward in your direction, and with a discordant bellow, breaks into a sprint your way!
You have but an instant to direct your fellows.
No.767847
>>767846"I can't read," Amy says with a smile on her face in response to Scorpan's expression.
>>767846Amy stops in place when she sees that the BEAST isn't moving. But, when it starts springing in their direction, she turns and runs and shouts, "Other way!" The shout is more just an instinctual declaration than it is a direction for anyone in particular.
[1d10] to run back down the hall and toward room 9
Roll #1 5 = 5 No.767848
>>767846>>767844Shorthorn's eyes widen as Scorpan confirms it's a game. "Wait, WHAT?! So that *is* a game? B-but it… I've seen real war tables just like that, with little figurines and stuff!"
>>767846Shorthorns looks a moment too late to notice the sharp glint of the sword embedded in the BEAST's hide, realizing it's already upon them. For a second, she freezes, but immediately summons a wall of flame and smoke - not so much to stop the BEAST, but hopefully to blind it so it doesn't see where they flee to next.
"RUNNING!" She shouts to Amy, following her to room 9
[1d10] Sphere of Dark to create a bonfire of flame/smoke between us and the BEAST to hide our retreat towards 9
Roll #1 5 = 5 No.767852
>>767850In that case, running to room 16 instead.
No.767853
>Bothhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CWp1R41R46cThe others run alongside you, not daring to waste any breath on words as they flee the charge of the BEAST. Shorthorned covers your tracks with a blaze of flame and smoke. You get to the second junction, turn right, flying north, then west.
It is as you reach the first westward bend of that corridor, three fourths of the way to room 16, that a great quake makes you stumble. The BEAST, you gather, has charged straight into the wall. You hear another shudder, the snapping of wood, the shattering of drywall and the bursting of pipes, as the BEAST rips itself free.
"It got stuck!" Mudi hisses as you get moving again.
"Only for a moment," Gegenschein whispers.
"That's all I'll need!" Scorpan declares.
You reach room 16, your lungs burning. Scorpan throws the door open to another room of idle entertainment. To the north is room 7 and the stairs downward…
No.767854
>>767853Amy doesn't stop, she opens the door to room 7 and keeps going in.
[1d10] for speed
She talks as she runs. "It looks like if it gets a long enough running start, it has a hard time stopping. So, we need a long enough hallway to get him to run down."
Roll #1 2 = 2 No.767855
>>767853Shorthorn grins as she pants and runs her way into Room 16. "Hah… hah… like a raging bison! It really is the only thing that can slow it down is itself, its own momentum is strong enough to embed it in a wall! If we can find another sharp corner, we can blind it again and let it stick itself in the stone while we grab the sword!"
As they arrive at room 7, she gets a sense that this place is a dead-end… the BEAST blocks the way behind them and the only way ahead is a stairwell down… unless….
Shorthorns goes to the north wall of Room 7, and uses the Sphere of Dark to re-shape the stone wall, giving them access to the hallway just beyond it.
[1d10] Creating an entry between the north wall of Room 7 and the hallway on the other side of it that leads to Room 1
Roll #1 5 = 5 No.767856
>Both
Just as Amy throws open the door to room 7, she feels an ominous presence, distinct from that of the BEAST… unfortunately, with the threat of the BEAST stomping north through the hall behind you, she doesn't have the speed to warn the others.
However… as Shorthorned bolts for the northern wall, concentrating her power, the ominous presence abruptly dissipates– flippant as a lackadaisical change of mind.
Shorthorned busts open a path between Room 7 and the corridor to the north. You can now go north-west to room 1, or east to room 9. You estimate that the BEAST is about halfway to room 16 by now. The others follow your lead in focused silence, their jaws set, their limbs trembling.
No.767857
>>767856>>767855"Can you close it?" Amy asks quickly as they all get through the hole in the wall. "If he doesn't know where we went, he won't follow."
No.767858
>>767857>>767856Shorthorns nods, "I could close it behind us…" she says as she ushers everyone into the hallway. She looks at its length, "But I don't know if we should… this hallway looks long enough to work with, doesn't it?"
She points in the direction of Room 9, "We can have everyone waiting down that way in that room, I could create more stone statues to lure the BEAST, and then we pull the same trick with blinding it and letting it run into the wall, getting itself stuck while we grab the sword and finish the job. We can take the BEAST down here and now!"
No.767859
>Both
The others exchange glances as Shorthorned outlines her plan. The erratic rumbling CLACKATACLACKATACLACKTA of the BEAST's stomping grows ever closer.
With a decisive nod, the others run toward Room 9 as Shorthorned suggests, then turn about and get themselves ready.
Mudi readies her magic, ready to aid Shorthorned's creation of bait.
Buiwong spins his silk, ready to slow the BEAST.
Gegenschein charges his cannon, ready to blind the BEAST with a headshot.
Scorpan drops into a running position, ready to leap for the sword.
No.767860
>>767858"I just think we need a second to regroup," Amy says quickly.
No.767861
>>767860Shorthorns looks ready to argue with Amy, before realizing by the second that there is simply no time - and if EVERYONE isn't on board with this plan, especially her sister, there's no point forcing it.
She nods, "Okay, we'll regroup. One second, I'll close this up," she says, looking to the open entry as she prepares to seal it again before the BEAST arrives in Room 16
[1d10] Re-sealing the opening she made
Roll #1 10 = 10 No.767862
>>767861"Okay, let's get some distance between us and the Beast, still," Amy says as she starts heading north to Room 1.
"Did anyone else feel that weird feeling in that last room?"
No.767863
>Both
The others are plainly frustrated as Shorthorned and Amy change the plan. The agitation of being hunted by the BEAST must be killing them. Yet they press on, following Amy as she makes her way to Room 1. Beyond its door appears to be a room with a small, circular theater stage inside, a ring of seats surrounding it. There is an assortment of gear for jesters, bards and other merry men hanging upon racks at the sides of the rooms. Above those racks, upon several trophy placards, are the severed, taxidermied heads of many clowns and jesters, frozen mid-grin, mid joke. Must be the ones who failed to make TIRAC laugh.
At a great distance south, you hear the BEAST skid to a halt as the trail goes cold for it.
The others nod as Amy asks about the ominous presence.
"Something watches us," Gegenschein surmises.
"Was it what you were talking about earlier?" Mudi asks, in reference to the portrait.
Scorpan kneels and presses his ear to the wall, trying to track the BEAST's movements.
No.767864
>>767863"I was thinking maybe they're related," Amy nods to Mudi. "I'm not really sure what the portrait is doing, but it's idea of help is definitely… confusing. I'm pretty sure it teleported the BEAST to us back there. Did you notice how confused it was?"
No.767865
>>767862Shorthorns nods, "I did, though I didn't have much time to think on it with the BEAST closing in on us. Sorry, I was just looking for a quick way out of what seemed like a dead-end, if I had held on for a few moments maybe we could have figured out who or what it was…"
>>767863She looks to the others, agitated with her holding off at the plan, but tries to lift their spirits, "Hang on, everyone. The plan will work but Amy has a point: if we're going to plan a trap for the BEAST, let's try to do it on our terms, not is. We can set a better trap this way."
As they enter the stage, she winces at the sight of the many framed heads of failed jesters. She looks around, trying to see if she can feel the presence that abandoned them earlier.
[1d10] To re-locate the mysterious other presence.
Roll #1 4 = 4 No.767866
>Amy
"It teleported the BEAST? Now that's a Servant of the Month right there," Gegenschein jokes. "I'd love to have my deliveries come that fast."
Buiwong rolls his eyes. "I'm putting your head on the next placard."
>Shorthorned
You feel a faint, lingering disturbance in the air… but you can't pinpoint it at all. Perhaps anything mighty enough to move the BEAST itself within its own domain possesses also a certain degree of omnipresence.
>Both
Scorpan's eyes widen. "BEAST vanished. Could be nearby. Let's be on our way. A long corridor would serve us for our trap. This place is too small."
No.767867
>>767866"Well then, if we find it in a long hallway, we'll know that whoever is moving it is helping us," Amy nods.
"I'll blast him with some bad luck when we see him."
Amy exits to the north hallway.
No.767868
>>767866She nods towards Scorpan as she fails to discern the exact location of the mysterious presence. "Agreed. Let's look around, I think the hallway we found earlier should work but let's see if anything else works better."
As Scorpan mentions the BEAST disappearing, she asks, "From the floor entirely?"
>Suggesting moving on to Room 2 No.767869
>Both
"Can't tell," Scorpan says. "I heard it thrashing and raging up until it disappeared. Perhaps it's none too thrilled having been uprooted as it was. It was fighting something on the Floors below us. May have gone back… and may come back soon enough."
As you move to room 2, you see that it is much like room 1, only instead of jesters, there are musical supplies lining the walls, and musicians' heads mounted upon trophy placards. Presumably, room 3 will yield many of the same things.
The key difference of room 2, however, is the sheer number of options available to you. You could get to room 9 from here, or to room 13, or even to 14 and 10. And, there are two escape routes back to room 1. Your allies scout each hallway, but Mudi seems a little energized by the sight of the eastern one. "Just from all the twists and turns we've taken so far, I think this way should lead us to the rest of the Floor."
"Right…" Gegenschein says, twirling his owl head about. "We entered south of here."
Buiwong nods. "Now all we need is one BEAST."
No.767870
>>767869"These hallways should definitely work… lots of twists and turns for it to crash into, and plenty of escape routes for us in case something goes wrong. Now if only we could lure it back to us again, but I don't imagine whatever helped us out before will be so quick as to do it again…"
As Scorpan mentions it fighting something below, she raises a brow, "We're still missing a few I think, could it be them?"
No.767871
>>767869>>767870"Oh crap, we ARE missing Hope!" Amy says with a little gasp. "I hope she's alright!"
Then, she looks toward the door that heads to room 13 and eventually 14 and 10. "Do we wanna check out more of this are before the BEAST shows up again?"
No.767872
>Both
Buiwong, Gegenschein and Mudi pale at the thought of the others having to face the BEAST without them.
"And if they were separated and trapped like we were…" Buiwong mutters.
"Cease that," Gegenschein says. "Focus only on our hunt."
"Look at you," Buiwong growls. "A mortal telling a god what to think. And you call us controlling!"
Mudi shakes her head at Amy's question. "I never thought I'd say this, but I want the BEAST here, and soon, rather than risk it fighting the others."
Scorpan leads the way eastward, toward the plethora of rooms – 13, 14, 10, etc. – "Then let's get ourselves set! …Perhaps your mysterious helper has already heard us."
No.767873
>>767872Amy goes to check out room 13. "Might as well check out our escape routes in case things go wrong…"
No.767874
>>767873>>767872"I think it's a good idea to make sure we have everyone before hunting the BEAST… but, if Mudi thinks it's a good idea to keep the BEAST on this floor, let's do it. We can look for Hope and anyone else after it's been dealt with. We know the plan - we find a long stretch of hallway, blind it while it chases after us so it slams into a wall, and from there we jump it with everything we have. For now, let's keep to this floor and wait for it to come back to us, or be made to come back to us."
>Going to Room 13 to check it out No.767875
>Both
As you reach room 13, you see that it is a theater as well… of a sorts. There's a massive and complicated-looking couch on the western end, shaped in such a peculiar configuration as to be comfortable for a centaur to sit on. On the eastern side is a blocky magitech terminal. The many shelves contain rectangular magitech disks, housed in thick paper covers. Surprisingly, there's no symptoms of murder or cruelty in this room. Being isolated in this corner of the Floor, perhaps it was a little refuge for even the Lord of VIOLENCE to unwind.
There's only one exit here, to the north. You sense that it would be a risky play to get yourselves holed up here… but perhaps Shorthorned could make another improvised passage, just as she did during your earlier escape.
No.767876
>>767875"Hey, do you think there might be something in here that could distract the BEAST? It looks like he used to come here a lot…"
Amy looks around for anything that could be useful.
>[1d10] trust the nose!Roll #1 4 = 4 No.767877
>>767875Shorthorns takes a look around the theater, her attention drawn to the many rectangular magitech disks lining the shelves. She pulls a few off to look at them in curiosity, before putting them back on and observing the surrounding halls. She notes how the northern passage leads only to a dead end, but considers the situation.
There's a lot of tight, twisty turns here… we could probably get the BEAST to run into the wall a LOT chasing us down this, and I could open up this wall here to make it so we wouldn't be holing our selves in… this might work for where we make our stand if we can lure it here."
No.767878
>Both
It looks like some of the discs receive more attention than others, judging by the wear and tear on the hard paper shells. Perhaps if you found any of the ones that TIRAC favored the most, and plugged it into the terminal, its contents might distract the BEAST. And, were this effect to be combined with Scorpan's shocking appearance, you may stun the BEAST for a bit longer than you would otherwise…
Buiwong looks at the others. "Any opposed to planting our trap here?"
The others shake their heads.
"Then let's begin," Buiwong concludes.
Scorpan kneels and puts his ear to the wall again, listening for the presence–
"It's back on this Floor," Scorpan hisses. "Hurry!"
No.767879
>>767878Shorthorns looks over some of the tapes, quickly looking them over as the idea to use them comes to mind. "If TIRAC liked this room, some of these might also give the BEAST pause like seeing you would, right Scorpan? Quick, which ones were his favorites?"
She points to the northern door leading to the twisting hall going to a dead end. "This is my idea: we lure the BEAST through these series of winding doors first, using our trick to blind it as it turns corners to soften it up. I open up a way from the dead-end on the other way of this wall here," she pats the wall, "leading back into this room where Scorpan will be waiting - between some of these nostalgic tapes, Scorpan, and ramming it into the walls a bunch of times, it'll hopefully stun it long enough for us to finish it off."
"I only need to know two things - who can create dummies so we can lure into the hall without putting ourselves in danger, and who can make blinding effects?"
No.767880
>>767878>>767879"We can't soften it up," Amy points out, using her memories of Tartarus. "He IS VIOLENCE and WRATH. Hurting him will just make him stronger… and not hurt. We have to kill him fast. One stun here in this room. I like Buiwong's plan."
No.767881
>Both
Mudi raises her hoof to the first question, and Buiwong to the second. Scorpan rifles through the shelves of cassettes, thumbing over the titles to try to find the perfect one. Gegenschein checks and double-checks his cannon, a nervous compulsion as he looks toward the southern door, imagining where the BEAST might be…
Scorpan rips one cassette out of its case and puts it into the terminal, opting not to press play until the BEAST is here. "This is the one. Now… all we need is a lure."
No.767882
>>767881>>767879"Can't you make another one of those dummies?" Amy suggests to Flaming. "They can lure him to a wall, he hits the wall, and while he's trying to get out of the wall, he sees Scorpan and the play-thing on the magic screen."
"Then, Scorpan does his things. Buiwong can add some extra webs to keep slowing him down, and I can add some bad luck."
No.767883
>>767882>>767881Shorthorns nods, in accordance to Buiwong's plan and Amy's suggestions.
"Sounds great then. Mudi and I can make dummies to lure it in here without drawing attention to us, Buiwong blinds it so it hits the wall, then after it recovers," she looks at the screen, "Scorpan turns on whatever tape that is, and then we jump it. It's all or nothing on this, so let's make sure we do it right."
[1d10] Making stone replicas as she had before to fool the BEAST
Roll #1 3 = 3 No.767884
>Both
Shorthorned and Mudi channel their powers together, but the task proves a difficult thing, for in the far distance you hear the CLACKITACLACKITACLACKITA of the BEAST'S myriad misshapen hang-legs and knee-legs and collages of muscles and bones charging down the halls not far to the south. He can't be any further than Room 9, probably closer to Room 3…
With your concentration thrown off, Mudi has to take over, but even she's nervous, and she only manages to make two doubles of herself. With a final look at the others, she sends them down the hall toward room 2, with one taking the lead, and the other hanging back, to serve like bread-crumbs.
Scorpan, Buiwong, Gegenschein and Mudi then take up their hiding spots in the south-eastern corner of Room 13, tensing for the moment of truth.
No.767885
>>767884Amy hides with the others, only staying far enough forward that she may be able to give THE BEAST some bad luck before things go awry.
No.767886
>>767884Shorthorns tightens her focus as the BEAST approaches, but bows her head in apology when Mudi has to fill in for her.
"That'll do, it'll chase ANYTHING that moves. Everyone else, get into position, get ready…!"
She shouts as she begins to hide with the others, preparing to jump on the Beast as soon as it runs into the room and stuns itself
No.767887
>BothNearly the very moment that the second double runs around the corner toward room 2, you hear a skidding, then a sprinting, as it bolts back toward Room–
CLACKITACLACKITACLACKITACLACKITACLACKITACLACKITACLACKITA–!!!
The BEAST hurtles around the corner, smashing into the eastern bend of the corridor with enough force to push its own shoulder and ribs back inward as it SLAMS upon the wall! Yet the bones chug along like the gearworks of an eternal engine, and the BEAST spins north, the displaced flesh reshaping around the displaced bones. The BEAST hurtles north, soaked in yet more fresh blood and gore. Just as Mudi's second double crosses the threshold, the BEAST runs it right over, splattering it across the floor. The BEAST skids upon the spilled blood, trying to slow itself before it can crash into Room 13's northern wall!
It's at that moment that Buiwong and Gegenschein act! Buiwong conjures a web around the BEAST'S legs, and Gegenschein levels his cannon at what remains of the BEAST's head!
Yet the BEAST, all instinct and hunger and sin, the BEAST is far faster than they, already disgorging and re-knitting itself, ready to slither about the entertainment center to eviscerate them–
Oh, but dear reader, he is not the only fast one here.
For Scorpan has been thinking about this moment for a very long time, and preparing, even in his torturously small cell. Even if the exact details of the plans have changed, Scorpan had his own plans, honed for a very, very, very long time.
You hear the click of the magitech VCR. The screen alights with aetheric power.
Scorpan sits upon the couch, leaning back as though there were no battle about him.
The BEAST looks his way, and freezes.
"We're watching this again!?" Scorpan barks, rolling his eyes at the BEAST, burying his fear and disgust at the sight of its grotesque bodily mosaic. "You ever gonna get tired of this one?"
Stupefied, the BEAST looks at the screen, exposing the back of its neck to you as it watches the opening sequence of what was once TIRAC's favorite movie… some manner of kung-fu film.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V95RL_SR3nwIt's now, or never.
No.767888
>>767887And it is most certainly NOW
Shorthorns leaps from cover, her head focused entirely on the hilt of the sword as she attempts to ram herself into it at full speed, but at an angle - making it so that it not only digs deeper into the BEAST, but it cuts sideways, lopping off its head for good and ending this madness
[1d10+3] ALL OR NOTHING (appropriately enough)
Roll #1 8 + 3 = 11 No.767889
>>767887Amy leaves the action to her comrades, she ensures that the enemy can't fight back.
>BLOODY MURDER "ACCIDENTS"Attribute: Debuff
Tags: Ranged; Spell
Effect: Increase the Target's Critfail range on all actions by 3
Duration: Until Dispelled
>[1d10+2]Roll #1 8 + 2 = 10 No.767890
>Both
Shorthorned, a ghostly white blur, flings herself with every amount of her divine might, toward the sword embedded in the BEAST's neck. The BEAST, realizing too late, swings its curtain of arms to try to stop her– but a sudden, horrific spate of bad luck, conjured by Shorthorned's very own sister, Amy Thest, forces the BEAST to whiff every swing.
With the strongest headbutt she's ever delivered, Shorthorned slams the handle of the sword. The blade whirls about, dancing in a crimson arc, slicing through all friction and resistance as if through the very air itself.
At long last…
The head of the BEAST shudders off to the ground, giving one last stain of red to the blood-soaked fortress of the Lord of VIOLENCE.
Scorpan leans back and looks at the ceiling as what remains of TIRAC at last perishes. "No crying until the end, indeed…"
Buiwong, Mudi, and Gegenschein keep their eyes on the BEAST's corpse, not quite ready to accept that they're safe. Yet the body begins to smoulder and bubble, boiling into dissolution. What remains of the Rainbow of Darkness blows away like so much smoke. Amy, a Tartarian being, recognizes this as true death. The body is dissolving now, to be reconfigured into a shape anew.
No.767891
>>767890Amy also remains stiff and ready for something horrible to happen along with the others. Then, the Rainbow of Darkness comes out, and she relaxes. "He's dead," she announces to everyone like a sigh of relief.
"Way to go, Shortyhorns! I guess that makes YOU the lord of VIOLENCE now," Amy jokes.
"Everyone else did a great job as well," she says, looking around the room to everyone. "Together, there's nothing we can't do!"
No.767892
>>767890>>767891Shorthorns likewise holds on to her breath until the very last moment that the final essence of the BEAST boils away to nothingness, only then after Amy has confirmed it's well and truly dead does she allow herself to draw a breath, almost collapsing in relief.
"AAGHH…. HAH…. Hah… that… glad that's over…"
She shakes her head, bringing herself up to raise as Amy congratulates her. She offers a chuckle at her new title, "Thanks, but I'd rather my new title be the Lord of PEACE instead. That's what I like to think we finally brought that thing… was peace."
She frowns, looking over at Scorpan as she imagines what he must be feeling at having felt the last remnants of his friend's being pass away. "And I hope TIRAC isn't the only one we brought some peace either…" she walks over to him to see how he is doing, putting a hoof on his leg in comfort.
No.767893
>BothScorpan gets up, rewinding and then retrieving the magitech tape. He puts it away in his hammerspace chest fluff.
"I'd always hoped to watch this again with Tirac, had he come over to my side…" Scorpan says. "…Probably would have been a bit too violent for all of my friends in Ponytown, though."
He chuckles, and the others start to relax…
But unfortunately, dear reader, it's a bit too early for that.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rZnQh5CPv_kFor a dread and explosive shuddering, far worse even than the stampeding of the BEAST, rocks Midnight Castle from its very foundation, all the way to the watchtowers at its very peaks! A terrible and interminable earthquake, sending you all to the ground!
"Dammit–!" Scorpan hisses, forcing himself up. "Midnight Castle– it's falling apart!"
"Find a window!" Gegenschein shouts. "C'mon!"
The others help you back to your hooves for one final escape.
No.767894
>>767893"Crap!" Amy shouts as they go back into sprinting.
"Hope is still down there somewhere! We gotta save her!"
Amy starts running toward the stairs that go down. As she runs, she starts trying to remember if they've seen a single window this entire time.
>[1d10] to rememberRoll #1 9 = 9 No.767895
>>767893>>767894As Amy starts going for the stairs, Shorthorns raises her hoof
"Wait! I know a shortcut, remember?!" She says as she uses the Sphere of Dark to re-shape the stone floors, opening up a hole directly to the next floor without having to run all the way to the stairs
[1d10] Instant hole in floor
Roll #1 1 = 1 No.767896
>Both
You all launch into a breakneck pace, with Amy leading the way as she recalls that Room 8, the game room, had a large window on its eastern wall!
"Hope's a guy!" Mudi shouts at Amy.
"They'll be alright!" Buiwong shouts. "Just keep moving!"
Gegenschein keeps focused on running despite his broken arm.
You rip through room 2, then 9, reaching the point where the BEAST first saw you on this Floor (the red dot).
>roll for balance, DC 4 from support of others
No.767897
>>767896>Shorthorns also makes note to grab the great sword that truly fell the BEAST before making her way with Amy through the collapsing halls as they try to make for the stairs.[1d10] For balance
"Are we missing ANYONE else? How many floors below us are there? A-and I'm just remembering all those soldiers we left up above, I hope they know a way out!"
Roll #1 4 = 4 No.767898
>>767897>>767896"I got his name right!?" Amy responds to Mudi, focusing on the wrong part of the correction.
>[1d10] for balanceRoll #1 3 = 3 No.767899
>Both
Behind you, sections of ceiling collapse and drop to the ground, erupting into towers of dust and clouds of shrapnel. Walls cave in, pipes snap and blast steaming hot and freezing cold water, while magitech circuitry powering the lights pops, pelting you with little daggers of glass, as sparks fly. From elsewhere you can smell gas, and smoke. Amy tumbles, and Mudi trips over her with a pained squeal, as debris shards shred them both about the chest and arms. Scorpan picks them both up and continues to run, bolting for Room 8.
Once there, Gegenschein smashes the window open with his cannon, revealing the utter emptiness of the Tartarian Abyss beyond it. The grounds of Midnight Castle spread out, filling the imagined darkness for but a speck of distance. Buiwong launches out columns of spider web for you to rappel down with.
"Have a little faith!" Gegenschein finally barks. "We've escaped worse, and we'll do so again, together!"
"Go, go, go, go!" Scorpan shouts, setting Mudi and Amy down. Seems he won't leave until you're all to safety.
No.767901
>>767899Shorthorns nods, "We'll have to hope they'll manage to survive this on their own, they should be able to! No one who came with us into Tartarus was weak enough to fall to a collapsing building!"
All the same, as she exits through the window, she takes a look outside at the surrounding, collapsing infrastructure and seeing if she can see any signs of Hope or anyone else in need of help
[1d10] Perception
Roll #1 1 = 1 No.767902
>>767899"Thank you," Amy says to Scorpan as she starts climbing out the window.
[1d10] to climb
As she does so, she tries to see if she can see Hope in any of the windows from the outside.
[1d10]
Roll #1 6 = 6 /
Roll #2 4 = 4 No.767903
>Both
You aren't able to see much of anything below you, besides the Abyss, or Midnight Castle. Not for lack of things to see, mind you– but rather that Midnight Castle and the Abyss seem almost to be in a competition for which can take up more of your field of view. For Midnight Castle is not the lesser villa of some insignificant fiefdom, but an architectural behemoth, stretching above you, and below you, and about you, in all directions. Nine Layers comprise Midnightcastle, each Layer comprised of nine great Floors, and each one built to house Tirac's immense height. Not even Tirac himself had explored every Floor, let alone every Layer – for he did not build Midnightcastle, but discovered it. Ah, but that is a tale for another time, dear reader…
The others join you in rappelling down, but the quaking of the collapsing Castle threatens to shake you off as an insect would be shaken off from the hide of a giant! Roll to keep your balance, DC 5 from the aid of the others.
No.767904
>>767903>each one built to house Tirac's great heightChange this to something that would suggest Midnightcastle was *already* large enough to house Tirac by the time he discovered it
No.767905
>>767903Amy keeps balance. [1d10]
"Why are we even doing this?" Amy asks loudly over all the collapsing. "Why don't we just go… somewhere else? That's the void right there."
>Vestigial Sunlight to be given an idea of where to go as a guide through the void>[1d10+2]Roll #1 9 = 9 /
Roll #2 10 + 2 = 12 No.767906
>>767903>>767904>>767905Shorthorns blinks as she looks out into the Void, "Uh… I guess I was just kind of distracted by the entire castle falling down around our heads. Can we focus on where the others are, do we know where the others are?"
[1d10] Balancing
Roll #1 3 = 3 No.767907
>Amy
In your mind's eye, you behold an Anchor not far from here, yet far enough to escape the blast radius of Midnight Castle's collapse. You know that it is there that your allies will assemble.
Those who have survived the war, that is.
It's just a matter of getting everyone there. Gegenschein can no longer fly, nor can you or Shorthorned, but Buiwong, Mudi and Scorpan should be able to with some direction.
>Both
Just as Amy notes a good spot to land, a horrid tremor looses a great slab of stone from the side of Midnight Castle, shredding Buiwong's webbing, and taking Shorthorned with it! With a gasp, Scorpan dives from his section of web, and grabs ahold of her, at the cost of being pelted by rock shards and dust.
Seeing Scorpan fly through the falling debris, Buiwong and Mudi exchange a look, and nod. They swoop over to Gegenschein, combining their power to carry the giant, one-winged griffon, who lets out a surprised squawk. Buiwong summons parachute-like nets of web, and Mudi conjures a carpet of her sketchy crayon self-portraits, which can awkwardly hover. Buiwong whistles to Amy as one would to a dog, gesturing for her to hop on.
No.767908
>>767907Shorthorn lets out a yelp as she falls loose of the great stone exterior of Midnight Castle, falling below, "AAH!!"
She's caught by Scorpan, prompting her to look up at the gargoyle with a sigh of relief, "Thank you! One of these days I should really figure out some way of flying myself…"
No.767909
>>767907Amy follows the whistle instinctively. As she falls, she shapeshifts into a little crystal-mouse.
>[1d10] to land safely on BuiwongRoll #1 1 = 1 No.767910
>Shorthorned
"Don't thank me just yet!" Scorpan seethes through gritted teeth. You realize that you aren't exactly slowing down by much – and you see his tattered wings, not yet fully healed from his interminable imprisonment at the hands of Tirac. "Brace for impact!"
>Both
As Amy transforms, Buiwong, Mudi and Gegenschein all reach out for her, but her smaller hitbox makes this a tall order. She falls through all three of the factional leaders' grasps, much to their embarrassment, and horror. But just as mouse-Amy threatens to disappear amidst the destruction of Midnight Castle–
An aged pegasus darts from a window far below. Scarred, eyepatched, with one good forearm, and one damaged prosthetic stump– there is none it can be besides Hope.
The impact into Hope's remaining good arm knocks Amy into a daze. But Hope, sharp-eyed even in his middle age, spots the others above him. He signals to them, and flies toward a certain point beyond Midnight Castle. Buiwong, Mudi, Gegenschein and Scorpan try to do their best to follow him despite everything.
No.767911
>>767910"Ow…" Amy groans as she shakes off the impact. "Thanks…"
Then, she realizes it's Hope who caught her. "Hey! You're alright! I was so scared that we wouldn't find you! I'm sorry we left you alone!"
No.767912
>>767910Shorthorns winces as she looks up at Scorpan's torn wings, realizing he isn't in the best of flying shape right now. "Hold on, maybe I can do something for it!"
[1d10] Sphere of Life to restore Scorpan's wings and his vitality
She sighs in relief as Hope reveals herself to catch Amy and the others, "Hope, you're okay! Is there anyone else we're missing?!"
Roll #1 7 = 7 No.767913
>AmyHope glances down at you but offers no reply. You see that he's back in his usual mercenary leathers, having presumably ripped off whatever themed costume he'd been put in upon arrival in Midnight Castle. You sense that he will be all business until the day he dies.
>Both"Everyone who could make it is out," Hope barks to Shorthorned. "We're late for the rendezvous. Let's move."
Shorthorned's blessing revitalizes Scorpan enough, filling in the gaps of his tattered wings, that he's able to turn his controlled fall into a smooth glide. Hope leads the way as the fliers among your team carry you off from the collapsing ruins of Midnight Castle.
As you fly over the Anchor housing Midnight Castle, you see a vast and tainted countryside, poisonous and polluted by the evils housed inside the Castle. And beyond it, the Abyss – but, not as much of it as you had first grasped. For soon, you see the remnants of Grogar's dyson sphere of conquered Anchors– for however much you can describe the phenomenon as such.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t9nocjg2OLIThe great dyson sphere of Grogar's domain, having been loosed from Grogar's binds of distortion, now unravels, Obliterated fragments of earth drift in the emptiness, shattered away from their Anchor. Chunks of forest and desert and globules of ocean fall away into nothingness. Light and elements disperse into thin, shredded membranes. Amidst the broken Anchors are countless engines of war, weapons, vehicles, ammunition and dispersed malevolent aether, and still other more murderous things, just waiting to be claimed by another.
Here and there, too, you see cracked continents of bone – vertebrae, once belonging to the Lord of LIMBO, Asphodel.
Just beyond one such vertebra, you see a diskos of burnt stone, where small specks you recognize as your allies have gathered.
No.767914
>>767913Shorthorns looks around at the vast devastation of the loosened anchors, now set adrift in the Void without Grogar's power to hold them together, and taking in the sheer scale of the death that had occurred here today - soldiers, enemies and allies alike, fill the space between spaces with their machines of war, and Shorthorns gives a solemn bow, acknowledging the sacrifices made by all sides today.
As they land on the cracked remains of Asphodel, she looks around, worrying, "Asphodel… has he ever taken this much damage before?" She says, looking around at the huge cracked vertebrae, "He seemed almost invincible, I didn't think I had to worry too much about him but looking at this… not even HE could walk something like this off easily." She looks around the Void, trying to see signs of Asphodel
[1d10]
Roll #1 2 = 2 No.767915
>>767913"Big dummy says nothing," Amy says quickly when Hope doesn't respond to anything she says.
When Amy sees the bone, she becomes concerned.
>Vestigial Sunlight>[1d10+2] to discern if Asphodel is aliveRoll #1 2 + 2 = 4 No.767916
>Both
Asphodel himself is nowhere to be seen, nor can you sense his almighty presence. Wherever he is, he's gone from the field of battle.
But, as you soon realize, there's a lot that you cannot sense. It's as if a great deal of noise and other stimuli which induce sensory overload is now gone, leaving behind an emptiness fitting for Tartarus. The forces of LUST, GLUTTONY, GREED, WRATH, HERESY, VIOLENCE, and TREACHERY have evidently been decimated. You cannot see, on any of the nearby Anchors, any remaining combatants. You wouldn't be able to see corpses, but you do see fragments of many different kinds of armor among the debris.
Almost everybody's gone.
The fliers touch down on the diskos of stone, collapsing from exhaustion. Although your allies initially eye Scorpan with some suspicion, the fact that he gently sets Shorthorned down assures them that he's not an enemy. That's a relief for them, you surmise, for all of your allies look greatly exhausted, all of them cut, scraped, burned, shot, bruised, bloody, coated in grime and sweat and blood from countless different sources.
That is to say–
Those of your allies who are still here.
For just as it was in the inn where you last got to relax, there are conspicuous absences among your allies.
No.767917
>>767916Shorthorn's search for any semblance of Asphodel's presence is cut short upon their arrival upon the great bone remains and seeing that there are not as many here as there were before. Fearing the worst, Shorthorns steps forward, looking around to see whom remains… and whom they've lost
No.767918
>>767916Amy pouts when Hope doesn't respond to Amy's goading. "Well, I guess that makes you a big dummy," Amy says indignantly.
When they land, Amy hops down, but doesn't leave her rat form. She looks up at everybody. She sees there's considerably less of them now. She tries to figure out who is missing as she speaks.
"Wow, even the Sons are gone?" she says optimistically. "I'm really surprised…"
No.767919
>BothYet again, you're forced to perform a head-count, as your weary comrades draw closer, sitting down together regardless of faction to treat one another's wounds at long last.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MX1hS7PwgRUThose who did not survive – these are their number.
The skeletal knight who sought to tame the demon possessing him through the cultivation of wisdom and qigong – Eligos.Doctor Galton's soft-spoken, melancholic understudy, the genius stained glazier – Viper.Living Saint Zoantharia's grumpy, yet kind-hearted monk-squire, who tirelessly collected alms for the poor – Monkey.Holy Hours's boisterous entertainer and unforgettable clown – Rooster.The pony who always sought to stand up for truth, justice and the Accorsian way, who had earned through blood sweat and tears (mostly blood) the title of Mortalkind's Strongest Demon Hunter – Hurricanrana.Buiwong's dedicated emissary to the Buffalo clans, who survived the One Night War and the Rapture at the heart of the bloodiest battles between angelkind and demonkind – Temper Tantrums.And…
The power-devouring gremlin who navigated the membranes between Worlds to chase down the rogue voidling Observer – once known as Yes Mare for lack of social grace… Hafaza.The trio of musical angels, always ready to jam with anybody whose soul needed a lift… the Malakhim.Those few who remain of the Saviors sit beside you in particular, unable to muster more than a few words as they try to heal yourself and themselves. Yet it's not going well… nobody has the energy for it. Least of all Flow, and Observer, and Great Journey.
No.767920
>>767919Shorthorns takes full stock of their lost members, sitting down slowly in particular as she realizes Temper Tantrum is no longer among them. She weeps for all their fallen compatriots, of course, having gotten plenty of time to know all of them - too much time, it almost feels like - but Temper Tantrum is a particularly heavy blow as a fellow Buffalo, and a fellow Climbing Fire at that. He was a warrior worthy of admiration, and Shorthorns can only hope he went out in a manner befitting such a strong and noble bison.
She looks around for Great Journey, feeling as though he might feel the same (and just to affirm to herself that he is still here among them all)
No.767921
>>767919"We're almost done, then everyone will be saved," Amy says with determination as much for her own benefit as everyone else's.
No.767922
>Shorthorned
Great Journey leans his head against yours, weeping in bitter silence. Nearby, Buiwong clears his throat.
"I've got him," Buiwong says. "…We ain't losing him to Tartarus… We ain't losing anybody. Once we're back on the surface…"
Buiwong sighs, as if even the hope of escape and resurrection were itself too much to process right now.
>Both
As your allies struggle to bind up one another's wounds… you gradually sense that you are not as alone as you may have felt. For a sensation of a presence builds around this battle-worn Anchor, growing in all directions.
As your allies hastily rise and reach for their weapons– you see a weary remnant of GREED's soldiers gathering around you. At their head is a tall figure, clad in a suit much too big for his frame without even counting his pointy shoulder pads… Bloody, bruised and wounded, this may be an historic time for the Layer of GREED, for now in MISTER MOOLAH they have a leader who fought alongside his troops and outsourced contractors, rather than sit back and hide behind his dirty money.
"Finally…" Moolah sighs as the troops of GREED surround you. "It's… done. It's all done."
No.767923
>>767922Shorthorns gently rubs her head against Great Journey's, sitting in silence with him as they silently mourn their fellow clansmate, tears flowing down her eyes as well. "I miss him too…" she says to him, drawing on him for strength.
As Buiwong says he has him, she looks to him, nodding in gratitude. Her feelings towards the spider god are complicated, but for this she has nothing but thanks. "Thank you, Buiwong…"
>>767922As they all gather to lick their wounds and mourn their fallen, Shorthorns is suddenly distracted by the arrival of weary remnant of GREED's army. They look as battered and bruised as all they do, but in truth, Shorthorns can't help but feel a sense of wariness as they seem to surround them all. She turns to MISTAH MOOLAH, gauging him cautiously for what he's about to say or do.
No.767924
>>767922Amy transforms back into her wolf-pony form and sits next to Mudi. "Almost," she responds to Mister Moolah. "We still don't know ANYTHING about Fraud."
No.767925
>BothThe remnant army of GREED reaches for their packs…
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BlAd2KSXD2kAnd in a flash, fireworks and confetti fly up all about you. MISTER MOOLAH's kicked off into a frenzied and memetic dance, whooping and cackling with the ecstasy of victory. "We won! We won!!! GREED really is good, just like they said!!! Talk about a five finger discount!!! Hot diggiTY DAWG!!! YEEEEEEEEEEE-HAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!"
The forces of GREED start passing out these cheap-ass little drawstring vinyl backpacks – commemorative swag bags. Inside you find a flimsy plastic water bottle that can't hold enough to quench anybody's thirst; then there's some misprinted BELPHECORP stickers with an awful-smelling adhesive. Then there's a one-size-fits all BELPHECORP t-shirt, pure recycled cotton (not pre-shrunk). You also see… little figurines made in the likeness of all your dead allies. Surprisingly, these look pretty high quality. You can even move their limbs to pose them like action figures.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhh I couldn'ta done it without you guys!" MOOLAH continues, gyrating like in a trance. "We're all getting promoted for this one! They might even give me a raise! First one I'll have ever gotten since I started working here… and maybe… just maybe, while I'm dreaming… maybe Shirley will let me have joint custody again!!!"
Your remaining allies glare at MOOLAH like they're about to rip him limb from limb. Even Scorpan's looking around for something to beat him senseless with.
But… you feel the faintest sense of another presence… one last guest for this celebration.
No.767926
>>767925"What's 'joint custody'?" Amy asks before becoming distracted by this other presence she senses.
>[1d10] to locate itRoll #1 10 = 10 No.767927
>>767925As Mistah Moolah's forces suddenly send up a flurry of fireworks and start cheering in celebration, Shorthorns releases the breath she'd been holding.
"Phew…." she says in relief, falling in exhaustion against Great Journey's side. "I'm too tired for any more surprises today…"
As she gets her gift-bag, filled with figurines of their fallen allies, Shorthorn's expression takes on a scowl. She wants to argue this is in poor-taste so soon after their loss, but at this point she's just thankful this is all she has to worry about from Mistah Moolah.
No.767928
>Both
As MISTER MOOLAH proceeds to go on an explanatory rant about how his ex-wife robbed him for all he's got, Amy's nose regains its sense of direction.
Only… the presence you sensed is coming in from all directions, and yet none at all– each forewarning, a false one. You look about at all angles, both outwards and even inwards, yet you just can't find–
Only, at the last moment, Amy happens to glance at the Vorpal Sword, still held by Shorthorned.
And, at the broken, shot, stabbed, bludgeoned, sliced, burned, hexed and all-other-ways-damaged body of the Storm King, Lord of GLUTTONY. With his left hand he reaches for the handle of the Vorpal Sword, for his right hand is but a stump.
>roll perception
No.767929
>>767928Amy barks at the Storm King, blasting a wave of holy flames at him.
>Wrath [1d10+4]"That's not your sword any more," Amy says as she rushes at him.
>[1d10] perceptionRoll #1 1 + 4 = 5 /
Roll #2 6 = 6 No.767930
>>767928Shorthorns' meaning of rest is interrupted as the presence suddenly distracts her, looking around for where the source could be coming from.
"What is that…?" She says, not yet aware of the growing danger just on her back
[1d10] Perception
Roll #1 4 = 4 No.767931
>BothIn the very instant that Amy barks out her holy fire, a curl of flame passes between her eyes and the Storm King– obscuring her view of him. The very next instant, the Storm King is gone, and so is the Vorpal Sword.
Then, the Storm King stands near Amy, yet inflicts no retaliation or counter-attack against her for the assault. He holds the Vorpal Sword up, in his good hand and his stump, beholding its inscription with exhausted eyes.
"Finally…" the Storm King sighs. "It's… done. It's all done."
Only… as you look at the stump, you realize something's amiss.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1AxkHZ5WGMcIt's hollow.
Where one would expect to see meat and bone, cauterized or otherwise, there is a void. The circle of his wrist is neither fleshy nor raw, but
dusty instead. His arm is made completely out of some kind of hollowed-out rock, and you can see the crack where his severed hand would fit neatly, a geological puzzle piece.
The wounds on the rest of his body are just the same: hollow openings. None of the blood upon his body is his own. As he caresses the Vorpal Sword, his hollow body moves awkwardly upon its frame, wobbling from side to side, like clothes hanging upon a mannequin too small for the tailoring.
Your other allies back away from the Storm King in silence, for even those who did not meet the Storm King recognize him for a Lord of Limbo from power alone. MOOLAH's celebration continues, heedless of this final guest.
No.767932
>>767931Amy frowns as she looks at the pathetic sight. "Even if you were the fairest once, you're definitely not now. Are you even undefiled anymore?"
>Mantra of Equality to get him to see the reality of the situation: he has lost the fight and doesn't deserve the blade>[1d10+4]>DC-4Roll #1 5 + 4 = 9 No.767933
>>767932>>767931Shorthorns looks on as Amy's fire suddenly catches her attention to the new threat, put on her guard as she feels the Vorpal Sword taken from her back.
"AH!" She says, looking up in surprise to see the Storm King having survived his encounter with THE BEAST after all. But, as she looks at the looming, powerful figure, she can't help but notice the differences from before - his strong, imposing figure now dusty, hollow, cracked… like he's falling apart at the seams, caressing his blade as he wobbles from side to side. Where at one point Shorthorn felt trepidation from this figure, it's now replaced by a new feeling… pity.
She moves in front of Amy as she barks at the Storm King, waving her hands in front of her. "Wait, Amy, it's okay!" She says, trying to get her to stop. She turns back to look at the Storm King.
"It's his sword. He hasn't done anything to deserve us taking it away from him."
No.767934
>Amy
"I know… I know…"
Perhaps surprisingly, the Storm King responds to you.
Only… it is the right side of his face which responds to you. The right side sags, weary and pained, and twitching like it's trying to get away, to leap from the body and hide behind you.
The left side, on the other hand, may as well not have heard you at all, for it still regards with maternal love the Vorpal Sword which shows the left side's reflection.
"Please… help me," the right side of the Storm King's face begs.
Yet the left side has other plans.
>Both
The Storm King jolts back, nearly snapping his spine at a 90 degree angle as he wrenches upwards, arms outstretched in joy. "I've done it!" cries the left side of his face. "I've won! Everyone who stood in my way of becoming the Lord of LIMBO once once more is dead! They're DEAD! DEAD!! DEAD!!! And I still stand!!!"
A hideous screech rips from the Storm King's throat, ascending vertically from his usual sonorous, honeyed octaves into an unrecognizably shrill trilling.
…Even as his wuthering victory cry grates your ears, his words ring familiar. Yes, he has said before that he was once the Lord of LIMBO. Not a contender, but truly taking the mythical throne as the uncontested LORD… This means he once reigned victorious in a previous competition… and then either abdicated the throne, or more likely, was torn off of it.
The question is, then… exactly *when* was the Storm King the Lord of LIMBO? As you heard from Asphodel, the previous Lord was not from GLUTTONY… but from…
No.767935
>>767934Amy's frown deepens as her eyes narrow. "There's two of you…" Amy says as both an accusation and a realization.
"If YOU are the Storm King," Amy says, pointing to the right half of his face. "Then, who are YOU?" she asks, pointing to the left.
No.767936
>>767934Shorthorns is perturbed by the bizarre 'split' in the Storm King's personality. She attempts to approach him, but is caught off guard by his suddenly ear-piercing screech.
"Agh… Storm King, listen to me!" She says, attempting to bring reason back to the broken and head-splitting monarch. "Yes, the battle is over, but look at yourself! Don't you see what's happened?" She says, trying in particular to appeal to the left half to bring it down to earth
[1d10]
Roll #1 3 = 3 No.767937
>Both
By now, the remnants of your allies have drawn their weapons, but look just as ready to cut and run from this sordid scene. And, the forces of GREED have finally gotten MOOLAH to pay attention to what's unfolding in front of him.
The Storm King tilts his head your way, a look of confusion coloring the manic left side. "Ah…? Oops! Sorry, didn't quite have time to change back into my Sunday finest for the big moment!"
The Storm King's left hand raises the Vorpal Sword high. The stump of the right arm extends outward, yet quivers and twitches as if the Storm King – or more accurately, his right half – didn't want to do this. Then, the left hand tilts the Vorpal Sword, hanging the blade above the right wrist.
(1/2)
No.767938
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zLJW4lBlNAY"P-please," groans the right side of the Storm King's sunken, sloughing face. "You can't do this… let me go… I did all you asked! W-we had an agreement!"
The right side of his body quivers, rapt with tremors, as if trying to escape the left side, yet he remains trapped by paralysis.
"An agreement?" the left side of the Storm King's face repeats, all parts of it curling up with contemptuous mockery. The left side of the body shakes too, quivering with glee. "We had an aGrEeMeNt!? Puhuhuhu! You should already know the problem with THAT argument!!!"
The two halves of the face divide, the right side weeping with terror, the left side cackling with hysteria, as the Storm King's left hand raises the Vorpal Sword to the sky.
"H-HWUUUUUUUAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAHAHAHAAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!"
The Vorpal Sword guillotines down, slicing off the very end of the Storm King's right wrist. Against the begging and sobbing of the right side of his face, the blade rushes back up, slicing off another cut of the wrist, chopping it nice and thin as if it were so much deli meat.
Screaming and giggling, the Storm King pirouettes, twirling into an ecstatic dance of torment. With each turn and curl and bend, his left hand hacks off bit and bit of his own body with the Vorpal Sword, showering the field with rock dust and scattered aether. First his right arm, then his horns, his ears, even his hooves and ankles and calves, yet even without those, the Storm King floats in the air, puppeteered by something
inside him.
Taking the sword in his teeth, the Storm King thrashes at the neck, headbanging until he at last shreds his left arm into fine fragments of rock. As the fragments fall he flings his neck all the way back as if to twist it off his shoulders – yet it spins all the way back around like a spring released, launching the Vorpal Sword through the air.
"Now, my dear Vorpal Sword!" the Storm King bellows. "I dedicate thee – reveal to us thE FAIREST ONE OF THEM ALL!!! HWAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAARRRGGGHHHH!!!"
The Vorpal Sword boomerangs back around, returning to the summons of its true master.
Before you can blink the Vorpal Sword beheads the wuthering Storm King, and his corpse falls backwards – before some kind of bestial
limb jabs out through one of the stumps of his legs. Then another animal
extremity through an arm-hole, and
horns through the neck-hole, and yet more
appendages out of his back and elsewhere.
Dear reader, it would avail us of no good to describe each myriad figment of flesh that is now exploding through the hollow stone body of what was once the Storm King. For there are so many beasts comprising the chimeric marionettist who wore the Storm King's body like a costume that you may as well just imagine whatever you like! In fact, damn the description, and damn the narration altogether!!! For there is none in this sordid tale who defies description, reason, and good taste more than–
SHE WHO BEGETS STRIFE WITH STRIFE UPON STRIFE;CHAOS CON CARNE;THE UNHOLY QUEEN OF THE EIGHTH LAYER: FRAUD;ERIS. No.767939
>>767937Shorthorns is appalled and caught off guard as the Storm King begins to massacre HIMSELF, tearing off his limbs and face bit by bit as some unknown presence seems to tear him apart from the inside. It is only now, too late, that Shorthorns understands what is happening.
"That's not the Storm King!" She shouts to those in case it was not already obvious, and she moves into action, throwing herself towards the Vorpal Sword to knock it free of the hand of its new mysterious wielder before they manage to complete themselves in this horrid transformation
[1d10+3] All Or Nothing
Roll #1 1 + 3 = 4 No.767940
>>767938Amy takes a few steps back as she watches the horrifying transformation take hold. She'd already been putting the pieces together as it began to happen in front of her. And, as Eris reveals herself, Amy suddenly nods in understanding.
"Oooooooh! THAT'S why the Storm King was coming off as more of a pitcher than a catcher!" she says as if all is right with the world now. "ERIS is totally a catcher!"
"Wait.. ew. Does that mean I was flirting with YOU?" Amy asks Eris. "I mean, no offense. I'm just not really into mares…"
>>767939As Shorthorns inevitably hurts herself in the attempt, Amy tosses a potion in Shorthorns' direction.
>[1d10+4] Natural Remedy"Well now, hang on a second, Shortyhorns. Eris is just here to become Lord of Limbo. We're not really here to do that. I don't see why we can't make a deal with FRAUD," Amy says in a sort of glib tone.
Roll #1 9 + 4 = 13 No.767941
>Shorthorned
As the queen Draconequus explodes forth from the Storm King's body, you leap forth to suppress her– only to stare down the barrel of a flintlock pistol, clutched in ERIS's chimeric hand.
Nearby, Anzu gasps, looking at the empty space in her hoof where she once held her gun, now appropriated by the Queen of FRAUD.
ERIS pulls the trigger.
Out pops a little flag that says, "Bang!"
Then an explosive force launches you across the rocky diskos, and you tumble across the stones before skidding to a halt at MOOLAH's feet. He barely looks down at you before looking back up in shock and awe at the figure before him.
>Shorty loses 1 Wound which is immediately healed
"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaait-uh!" ERIS cries, doing that thing where someone with a whiny voice appends an "uh," sound to their words. "Staaaaaawp-uh! I won! I already won! Aren't you guys tired of fighting after all that business in Midnight Castle!? Can't we just get along!?"
>Amy
"Honestly, so true!" Eris says to your description. "I don't know why the narration said I was unholy, I'm totally known for my holes! Puhuhuhu!"
…Dear reader, you will soon discover, if you have not already, my trepidation in bringing you to this point. Be careful around her…
>Both
ERIS stops to think, tapping the golden pommel of the Vorpal Sword against her temple. "Well… I guess we do have some unfinished business. Still gotta figure out who owes who favors!"
You recall the "IOU" that the Storm King – or rather, ERIS in disguise – wrote you when you first helped her find where the Vorpal Sword had been hidden by her unnamed "enemy." And you recall the suspicious portrait who offered you help in Midnight Castle as you and the BEAST hunted one another. If that portrait and its favors turned out to be one of ERIS's workings as well… you could very well find yourself in debt, true or fraudulent, to ERIS.
Your allies silently watch the Queen of FRAUD, weapons raised despite her demand for peace.
No.767942
>>767941Amy laughs at the 'holes' joke.
"Guys, it's a draconequus," Amy says to everyone still looking for a fight. "You're not going to get anywhere without going with her flow. Plus, I mean, she's Eris. The rest of Tartarus's Lords couldn't even kill her together. It took all this cheating just to undo what they did to her. You're not going to redo it to her with weapons."
Then, Amy takes a moment to think about Eris's words. She mentions a narrator. It's not the first time someone has said something like that, though she can't remember when or why she feels that way.
It DOES remind her of the times she's been trapped in stories - like the one with Regina or the one with Wineberry. She doesn't think that what's happening right now is like that. But, then she's reminded of all the times lately she just… knows things. She forgets where the information comes from. She ponders on this for a moment.
>Vestigial Sunlight to determine if there's a connection between people's awareness of the narration and Amy's own usage of Vestigial Sunlight>short of that, Amy wonders what in general Eris is talking about>[1d10+2]Roll #1 6 + 2 = 8 No.767943
>>767941>>767942Shorthorns winces as she comes face to face with the barrel of a flintock, eyes opening wide as she fears she stares death in the face… but as the BANG flag shoots out and knocks her back with the explosive force, she grunts and tumbles to a halt, thankfully spared damage thanks to the healing salve Amy through at her.
"Ugggh…." Shorthorns groans as she rises and rubs her head, looking to Amy as she explains who this is, and she turns her attention to the Lord of FRAUD herself.
"Another LORD… here I was thinking we were finally almost out." She says, shaking her head as Amy comments on her being a draconequss. "She definitely seems strong, but do you really think we can work with her? We don't even know anything about her, do we?"
As Eris mentions there being favors left unfulfilled, Shorthorn's eyes open wide. "Wait… how did you know about Midnight Castle? You… YOU were the voice we heard! The one in the painting, that was you?!"
No.767944
>>767943"Well, she's the Lord of FRAUD, so of course we can't work with her," Amy laughs. "But, that's exactly why we CAN work with her!"
No.767945
>>767944"I am so lost." Shorthorns says with genuine confusion, "Which is it?!"
No.767946
>Amy
"Well…" ERIS mumbles, poking her mismatched index fingers together as you talk about cheating. "To be fair… I mighta started the cheating in the last war… I was totally gonna die so I put in a cheat code to stay alive! But in my defense, they were totally trying to focus fire me!"
Tuning out her inane ramblings, you consult the chorus whose existence you do not know.
ERIS's touch, her words, and her knowledge, is certainly reminiscent of those previous times in which you were trapped in stories… yet, there's something… still missing from her. She may be likened to a performer in a musical, or a play, who leans out over the edge of the stage to engage the audience in the fun… yet, even that leaning upon the wall between performer and audience… is it not written in the very stage directions of the script?
>Both
"Yep, that was me!" ERIS laughs as Shorthorned figures it out. "Oh, and… by the way, a word of advice for the future…"
ERIS looks at you.
Not at Shorthorned, nor at Amy.
No.
She looks– across. Her gaze crosses the Labyrinth between Dimensions, across time, across space.
ERIS looks at (You), dear reader.
"Any time you're trying to solve a murder mystery in which there's multiple deaths, there's always something screwy with the first death!" ERIS says. "And those discrepancies end up being the key that solves the subsequent deaths!"
The audience blinks in silence at this worthless advice.
ERIS hangs her head in shame. "Well, I think it's worth something… anyway, I think when we math it all out, you guys owe me! I totally helped you get through Asphodel's defenses, then I helped you… in Midnight Castle! Yep! Definitely helped keep the BEAST moving around the Castle before he could kill anybody!"
Is that so…?
No.767947
>>767946Thanks for the advice, Eris. I'll keep a closer eye out for such details in the future, but I enjoyed the surprise of your entrance.
Anyways, Shorthorns looks at Eris with a perturbed look as she seems to stare off towards nothingness, but as her attention is returned to her, she raises an eyebrow as she insists that THEY somehow owe her. "Huh? I mean…" she thinks about it and the logic behind, then shakes her head.
"Wait, no, we're even! See, we got the Vorpal Sword for you in the first place, then you helped us get to Asphodel. Then you helped us with the BEAST, but then-" she points to the Vorpal Sword in her possession, "We're the ones who slayed the BEAST and got you the Vorpal Sword back! If it wasn't for us, it'd still be stuck there and it'd still be rampaging. So, as far as I can see, we're even."
No.767948
>>767947>>767946Amy nods vociferously along with Shorthorns words. "We helped you, you helped us. Then, you helped us help you. That's everyone helping everyone else an equal amount."
No.767950
>ShorthornedERIS gulps with surprise, evidently not expecting
(You) to talk back to her.
>BothERIS pulls out an abacus from somewhere, and starts sorting the beads to count favors.
https://youtu.be/lEH5EVCS0yA?feature=shared"Let's see…" ERIS says. "You helped me find the Vorpal Sword after my idiot cousin hid it away, for which I owed you one." She moves a bead over. "Then, I helped you get past Asphodel's defenses. That makes us even… until I also helped your slowpoke friends get past Asphodel as well! Puhuhu, now you owe me one!"
A stir passes through your allies as ERIS makes this spurious accounting. You get the sense that they intend to argue, but an overwhelming sense of caution keeps them from speaking up just yet.
"You may have also heard," ERIS continues. "That the forces of GLUTTONY were acting weird all throughout the war. They were totally useless, and got themselves killed! This put more strain on old 'TNT', forcing LUST and VIOLENCE to pick up the slack against WRATH and HERESY and all the other looky-loos who came to fight. Another point for me!"
She slides another bead to her side, putting her at 2-0.
"Finally…" ERIS says. "In addition to messing with the BEAST's teleportation inside Midnight Castle, you agreed to accept MORE help from me in the final hunt. Add to that the fact that the Vorpal Sword was the only way that you could have killed the BEAST, that's one, two, three favors from me! 5-0! Puhuhuhu!"
Your allies, finally abandoning the idea of confronting ERIS in a battle, lower their weapons and huddle up around you.
"Es ist bullscheisse!" Freischutz sneers.
"I know," Great Journey says. "But that's her Layer's whole thing, isn't it?"
"Calm down," Evil's Judgment orders. "We'll just need to bullshit her back."
"Right," Blessings says. "…how much can we finesse our accomplishments to even up against her?"
Vizsla taps her chin. "Or, failing that, discredit her supposed favors…"
No.767951
>>767950"No, no, no," Amy says shaking her head at the last parts about 'help' killing The Beast.
"That wasn't you helping us, that was US helping YOU. You were trying to get the Vorpal Sword BACK. Helping us help you is just helping yourself. If anything, those last three should count as you owing yourself."
>Mantra of Equality>[1d10+4] DC-4Roll #1 5 + 4 = 9 No.767952
>>767950Shorthorns looks at the abacus, trying to think of a way of how to argue her way out of this… but as her brain rattles off from each count of the favor she owes, Shorthorns shakes her head in confusion. "Ugggh…. this is making my head hurt. Mathematics were never what I was best at…"
She raises her hoof, "Now, hold on one thing there… the Vorpal Sword COULDN'T kill the Beast on its own, you can't count that as your helping any more so than we should count me using my head," she says, knocking it with her hoof, "To push it all the way through, otherwise it was just stuck! That definitely doesn't count as a favor."
No.767953
>Both
ERIS narrows her eyes as Shorthorned elaborates on the BEAST's death.
"Insooth!" Gegenschein agrees. "The Vorpal Sword was stuck in the BEAST's neck, and your macabre 'glove' was still attached. Obviously you stabbed the BEAST… but you failed to finish the job, and had to retreat lest the BEAST land a fatal hit on you!"
"Grr…" ERIS grumbles. "Okay, I'll take off the last point… but that's all you're getting back! I'm up 4-0!"
MOOLAH and the forces of GREED sit on both sides of the scene, chattering among themselves in awe.
Your other allies think and whisper among themselves… all except Buiwong, who doesn't look too worried at all.
No.767954
>>767953"Hang on, that just makes what I said more true. If you couldn't kill THE BEAST yourself, then none of your helping us helping yourself kill the beast should count! YOU wanted THE BEAST dead. That's not helping us, that's working with us, and that's a form of helping yourself!"
>[1d10] to stick with this argument>DC-4Roll #1 2 = 2 No.767955
>>767953>>767953Shorthorns grimaces, finding that trying to reason with Eris is proving a very up-hill battle and just getting her down from 4 to 0 favors is going to take a LOT of haggling that she simply doesn't have the most experience in doing. However, a light-bulb goes up in her head for another way around this sticky problem.
"Okay, well, I should point out that WE were the ones that went to go find Asphodel in the first place, AND we convinced him to join our cause. Without him, NONE of this would be possible… so that's 1 you owe us."
"Then," she says, "The only reason there was a BEAST for you to slay in the first place was because we beat Tirac and Grogar, at the same TIME, and threw them into the bottomless bog we came across. That's 2 you owe us."
"After that, a Son of Perdition nearly took us all out, and if that happened we could have never helped you in the first place, BUT I managed to help her resist her evil mother's control, from inside a locked CLOSET, so she wouldn't hurt anyone. That's three you owe us."
"And finally," she said, puffing her chest out, "We managed to take down the Vestal of Peace, which is the only reason ANY of this happened in the first place. If it weren't for that, you'd still be exactly where you were before, so you owe us FOUR in total." She grins, "So, why don't we just call it even then?"
[1d10] Persuasion
Roll #1 9 = 9 No.767956
>Bothhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UFcJmOs8DRQJust as ERIS starts to cook up some smart-ass answer to Amy, Shorthorned pushes her way to the front and buffaloes ERIS the way only a buffalo can. With each argument that Shorthorned makes, ERIS mumbles some back-talk, but Shorthorned's already onto the next point. You can almost hear some kind of "BANG!" or "POW!" sound effect as each breakdown lands, and a bead of the abacus slides back to the other side.
As Shorthorned suggests you call it even, ERIS gawks, jaw ajar, at the abacus, which has rendered its judgment – you're square.
Buiwong looked like he had a mild interest in adding something, but instead silently chuckles, and slips back away from the forefront.
Meanwhile, the crowd of GREED is chattering to one another in excitement and intrigue. MISTER MOOLAH, most of all. He shivers like a fanboy with front-row seats to his favorite act, nearly going to burst. But he also looks a little… shy? As if he may need help speaking up…
No.767957
>>767956"So, now that we're all agreed that we can all help each other the same amount…"
"What are we doing here?" Amy asks, looking around to everyone present.
No.767958
>>767956>>767956As the Abacus slides move one by one back into their favor, Shorthorns's confidence swells with each word that comes out of her mouth, suddenly finding herself believing in her own claims and feeling bigger than the tallest mountain as Eris is put on the backhoof. As it finally clicks down to the final tally, showing everyone is completely square, Shorthorns smiles, looking around at everyone as they watch the scene with rapt attention.
"Hah… hah… well, now that's settled…" she says, looking to Eris once again. She bows her head, "Thank you for all the help, Eris. It was great working with you," she says, extending a hoof towards her. "Friends?"
>>767957>>767956"Hmmm…" SHorthorns thinks for a moment, remarking on how Amy suggested we *could* perhaps make use of Eris.
"Hypothetically speaking, Eris, if we WERE to do you a favor… one that would, in turn, mean you'd owe us another favor, what would you have had in mind for us to do?"
No.767959
>Amy
Mudi motions for you to keep your voice down. "Once everyone was well enough to move, I was going to lead the way to the Momentary Lake. It should be somewhere in the wreckage of GROGAR's mobile empire here… but if ERIS finds out, it's likely she'll try to lead us into a trap."
>Both
"Don't get ahead of yourself!" ERIS suddenly barks, swishing the Vorpal Sword about in frustration. "Midnight Castle had Nine Layers, each comprised of Nine Floors, for a grand total of eighty-one possible locations you could have ended up… and that's just the ones I knew about! You think it's a coincidence that you all happened to be close enough to regroup!? That was my doing too! Those fashionable fits!? All me, baby! And I could have easily killed Asphodel – I just let him go! Yeah, and what's more–"
As ERIS goes on a furious rant, more beads on her crooked abacus slide over in her favor, no matter how spurious her logic might be. A chill passes through your allies as they rack their brains for more bullshit…
Among them, you notice two figures stirring. Buiwong leers at ERIS, nervously calculating his next move. So is MISTER MOOLAH, but the latter's trying to smooth out his hair and sharpen his suit. Another GREED soldier helps him apply cologne…
No.767960
>>767959"Wait, YOU were the one who put me in this?!" Shorthorns cries out, still referring to her orangeish princess outfit that she's presumably still wearing and hasn't had a chance to change.
"You call this a favor?! You made me look like some kinda prissy pony princess, how is THAT fashionable?" She says, as bullheaded as any buffalo could be at arguing as she tries to stem the tied of the Abacus sliding towards Eris' favor. "If I didn't ask for it, it shouldn't count as a favor!"
[1d10]
Roll #1 5 = 5 No.767961
>>767959"Yeah, no, I get what our plan is," Amy says to Mudi, not, in fact, keeping her voice down. "But, I'm asking how our plans are going to work out with everyone else's plans here."
>>767959>>767958"See?" Amy says, pointing to Eris as she makes more shit up. "Eris KNOWS we can help EACH OTHER, but she's still trying to make it about herself."
"And, it's not just her either," Amy points out. "Buiwong's over there with some secret up his spider-sleeve like always. MISTER MOOHAL is over here trying to find a way to make this work to his advantage."
"That's what I'm asking. What are WE doing here? Are we just going to sit here all day disagreeing about who can help who when we can all just help each other instead?"
>Mantra of Equality to get everyone to just get along>[1d10+4]>DC-4Roll #1 5 + 4 = 9 No.767962
>Both
As Amy calls everyone out, ERIS, Buiwong and MISTER MOOLAH in particular, a shocked silence breaks the tension. Buiwong raises his hoof like a divine icon, ready to bestow wisdom– but quickly backs up as MOOLAH finally works up the chutzpah to make this his moment, just a Amy had accused him of doing.
"Ex-ACT-ly!" MISTER MOOLAH says. "Just the kind of rousing teambuilding I'd expect from my spokesdemon, thank you, Amy!"
"Ah?" ERIS mumbles in confusion.
MISTER MOOLAH turns toward her. "And, ma'am, can I just say… it is SUCH an honor to meet you! I'm a huge fan of your work!"
ERIS's pouty, petulant demeanor suddenly brightens. "You are!? Wow, didn't think I'd find someone with such good taste all the way out here!"
"T-thank you!" MOOLAH says. "I've read all your published works!"
"Really!?" ERIS gasps. "Now that's impressive. Even the ones they tried to burn because they were making everyone who read them go insane!?"
"I even reviewed them on my blog!" MOOLAH declares (and truthfully too!). He produces a worn leather book and a pen. "C-can I have an autograph?"
ERIS giggles. "I dunno, can you?"
MOOLAH's eyes narrow, ever so slightly. "…May I have an autograph."
ERIS takes the pen and book. Your allies sigh with relief now that the Queen's been distracted.
No.767963
>>767962>>767961As Moolah tends to Eris, seemingly starting to win her over into something of a more reasonable exchange of services, Shorthorns turns to Amy and the rest of her allies as she asks, "Is it a good idea to let MOOLAH handle negotiations like this? What if he demands a consultation fee or something, like we'll be owing another favor to him instead if we let him handle her?"
No.767964
>>767963>>767962Amy shrugs. "At this point, I think it's more likely he'll just drop out of the running of Lord of Limbo for Eris. And, that'd be fine too."
>>767962Amy smiles. "I like it when people get along. That's all I'm here for. That's why asked what WE are doing here," she reiterates her question.
No.767965
>Shorthorned
"I think it'll be alright," Buiwong says. He motions for you to scoot back.
>Both
"To whom am I making this out?" ERIS asks, doing a sick pen twirl around her fingers.
"Uh…" MISTER MOOLAH says. "MISTER… M-I-S… yeah, yeah. MOOLAH. M… uh, no, there's no 'u' in MOOLAH. It's O-O."
"But 'o' doesn't make that sound, silly," ERIS says. "The letter 'u' does!"
MISTER MOOLAH sputters with barely-contained disbelief and exasperation. "It's like… how a cow… uh… ah, here." He hands ERIS a business card. "Just spell it like that."
"Uuu!" ERIS says. "Thank you! …And… done. Here ya go." She looks over the business card again after handing the book back (she steals the pen). "Oh, cool!"
"Y-yes?" MOOLAH asks.
"You work for BELPHECORP?" ERIS asks. "Like *the* BELPHECORP?"
"The very same!" MOOLAH declares, beaming with pride. "In fact, and I don't want to count my basilisks before they're hatched, but I could very well be looking at a promotion after I report our vic… tory…"
MOOLAH's voice trails off as thoughts coalesce in his mind.
"The BELPHECORP, headquartered in the Layer of GREED," ERIS says. "…Which is participating in the War for the throne of LIMBO."
Sweat beads upon MOOLAH's forehead.
"Making you their representative in the War," ERIS says.
MOOLAH gulps.
ERIS puts her hand upon his shoulder and smiles. "You're coming with me, pal."
MOOLAH blinks. "…In a good way or a bad w–"
ERIS launches into the Abyssal sky with explosive force, dragging MOOLAH away with her.
"–AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYyyyyyyyyy…"
As the two fade from sight, you get the sense that you will not be seeing either of them again soon.
No.767966
>>767965Amy just watches passively as Mister Moolah is whisked away. She blinks a few times with an almost completely blank expression.
Then, she lifts a hoof paw to her face and cups it by her mouth and yells, "That doesn't count as a favor," up into the abyssal sky above them.
Amy turns to everyone else and says with a satisfied nod, "Honestly, I don't see how that could have gone better.
No.767967
>>767965>>767964Shorthorn's attention is torn away as MOOLAH and ERIS both take off into the sky, losing track of them quickly as they fly off to who knows when. She feels little sympathy for MOOLAH, who despite having done well by them hardly did it out of altruism's sake, but feels concerned that ERIS will prove more trouble for them down the line. However, with the two LORDS out of the picture, quiet falls once again on the discarded shell of Asphodel's broken piece of spine they all stand upon.
"Well, at last… that seems to take care of all the LORDS, one way or another. I'm still worried about Asphodel, but…" she pauses, looking at Amy. "I guess… there's nothing really standing between us anymore, huh? Between us and the reason we came here."
No.767968
>Both
Once more, silence settles around your allies, as the last two contenders for the throne of Limbo vanish, and are seen no more.
The rag-tag remnants of GREED look at each other now that their boss is gone. "Coffee break?" one suggests. "Coffee break." "Coffee." "Do we still have any decaf?"
GREED's soldiers wander back to their base, idly chit-chatting and chilling.
Scorpan steps back a little as your allies check their bags and things. He offers you a light bow. "As for myself… this is where we go our separate ways. Thank you, all of you. I… shall not soon forget what you've done for me. And… for Tirac as well. Take care of yourselves… and of one another."
Your allies stop to give their goodbyes and thanks to Scorpan– Mudi, Gegenschein and Buiwong in particular.
Once you have finished saying your goodbyes to Scorpan, you do him the favor of watching him as he leaves for the ruins of Midnight Castle, keeping him in your observations to see his safe journey off.
With him gone, Shorthorned's words ring true. The War is at last won. Although you hadn't been conscripted to see it through to the end, you certainly did… just not in the way GREED would have hoped. But that is their problem, now. You have yet another problem to see too– the one for which you entered Tartarus in the first place, seeking to solve.
"…Right," Vizsla says. "…We should be able to look for the Momentary Lake in peace now."
"Hoohoo," Doctor Galton hoots. "Nothing like a nice quiet hike to clear my mind."
"Everyone ready?" Mocha asks.
"Always," Hope says.
"But of course," Chorazin declares.
No.767969
>>767968>>767967Amy looks around at everyone ready to go to their final destination. Then, she looks to Mudi. Amy sighs.
Amy walks up to Shorthorns. "I need you to keep Vizzy here," Amy whispers to her. "I want to talk to Mudi alone. You don't have to lie to Vizzy or anything like that. Just make her stay here."
Then, without another bit of discussion, Amy turns and walks over to Mudi. "Hey, Moody," Amy says with a sort of somber smile. "Can we talk? Alone?"
No.767970
>>767968>>767969Shorthorns seems ready to address the others before Amy pulls her aside and asks her to keep Vizsla occupied. She is a bit confused by the request, but as Amy moves away immediately to approach Mudi, Shorthorns knows to trust in her sister and do her best to keep Vizsla occupied.
She seeks out the witch, not entirely sure how to keep her occupied but deciding to start with something reasonable. She speaks to Vizsla
"I know we're not in the clear yet, but maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to take a rest and regain our strength - Moolah's forces did leave behind a lot of supplies, we catch our breath, patch our wounds… mourn our lost."
No.767971
>AmyMudi moves a little off to the side of the others. You feel Vizsla staring at you, but Mudi gives her a slight look back. The witch of ice remains behind.
Although Mudi maintains distance from the rest of the group, she keeps moving, eyes forward. You see a kind of determination in those eyes… twisted though it may be. "Sure," she sighs.
>Shorthorned"No," Vizsla grunts. "We need to move before word gets out that the worst of the War has passed. Just as on the surface, scavengers are soon to come sniffing around. We can ill afford another encounter with Umbrals who aren't wearied from constant battle…"
She tosses her pine-needle mane. "Besides, I am so in need of sunlight. Even I'm having trouble keeping evergreen down here."
You sense that something has changed inside her, however small… her words have lost a little of their usual cynical edge, and gained a hint of… is that sincerity?
>Bothhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FqWixE_2_CEThe remnants of the Tartarian Expedition Team set out from this blasted diskos of stone, walking across the myriad shards of obliterated Anchors that still litter this blood-soaked realm, the former domain of Grogar. They keep their weapons close, and their eyes peeled… yet almost nothing remains of the War of LIMBO. Those few survivors you can sense here and there are soon gone, having fled from even the slightest hint of your presence. Perhaps it comes as little surprise, seeing as you kept the terrible company of Asphodel and the forces of GREED, and have outlived some of the War's most dreaded contenders.
Lonesome roads stretch out in all directions. There is little Abyss here to speak of, yet all the same, your allies concentrate their wills with a practiced posture, searching for the one and only Momentary Lake. As usual, the factions have separated themselves into their usual groups… but given all the absences, they're all walking a lot closer together than they were before, despite the lack of foes to fight.
No.767972
>>767971"Thanks," Amy says with a smile as they walk away together.
She spends some time walking in silence. Even after they gain sufficient privacy, she spends some more time in silence.
"Do you like me?" Amy asks, suddenly breaking the silence. She asks it in a matter-of-fact tone, like a child asking if their friend actually like them in return. She turns to face Mudi in the eyes as she does so.
No.767973
>Amy
Mudi double-takes at you as if you'd just spoken in three different foreign languages. Perhaps to her, you have. "…Wh-whuh? Amy… uh… where are you going with this?"
Perhaps feeling self-conscious, she tugs at her baggy clothing so that it covers more of her body. As her clothes rustle, you see little bits of the hundreds – perhaps thousands – of cutie marks she has stolen from others, a mosaic of sins, tattooed across her body.
No.767974
>>767971Shorthorns tries to think of some sort of rebuttal to Vizsla's claims… though in truth it is difficult, given if she wasn't tasked with distracting her, Shorthorns would agree with her that they need to move on. However, she doubts Amy has had enough time to speak with Mudi, so as they walk the lonesome roads stretching outwards with their party, she thinks of something else to talk about.
"Hmm… I guess you're right. We have been down here a long time it feels like, hasn't it?"
She purses her lips, "I hope the sun will still be there when we go back, that we aren't too late and that's been ripped from our world as well." She says, trying to get Vizsla to wax nostalgic for a bit.
No.767975
>>767973"I'm asking if you like me. I like you," Amy says just as matter-of-factly. "You're fun and nice. Sometimes you do things without thinking and they end up being kinda mean, but - I mean - it's not like I have a lot of room to talk there," Amy laughs.
No.767976
>Shorthorned
"The sun, being ripped away from the world…?" Vizsla muses. "Pfft… now that's a chilling thought…"
She looks up at the Abyssal sky. "I do wonder… Tartarus is said to connect to worlds beside our own. Perhaps such an awful fate has befallen one world or another. Or a world which has lost its moon… perhaps even both… I'd ill like to be caught up there."
She shakes her head, chasing the thoughts off from her mind. "Tch. Don't distract me. Think only of the Momentary Lake, won't you? I want to be shed of this place, and soon…"
>Amy
"Wh-wh-wh-wh-whuh?" Mudi stammers. "Amy… I don't swing, pitch or catch that way… and you know, based on what you said to ERIS, I didn't think you did, either…?"
Vizsla double-takes in your direction, really wondering what in the world's going on…
Busta, perhaps thinking that you're talking about baseball, arches his eyebrow with interest.
>Both
As you venture onward, you gradually become aware of a vast presence beyond you… as one becomes aware of the warmth and light of the rising sun, just before its appearance beyond the horizon. Your allies press towards it.
No.767977
>>767976"Wha!?" Amy responds, equally confused and flustered. "How did- No! I meant like as a friend!"
No.767978
>>767976"R-Right, sorry… I know getting distracted in Tartarus isn't wise. It's just, we have lost much since we arrived here. It has put into perspective the things I have taken for granted in the past, even such things as the sun or moon I'm scared to lose now. I'm grateful to still have who we have…"
She pauses, trying to think of what to say next carefully. "I never got to know you as well as I could have. I always kept everyone who wasn't particularly close to me like Amy or Shei at horn's length. I want to apologize for that." She says, genuine with her words. "There are a lot of people we lost so far I could have gotten to know so much better than I did…"
No.767979
>Amy
"Jeez!" Mudi sputters in exasperation. "A friend…? I thought… uh… what are you looking for, a numerical rating or something?"
Despite her evasive words, by the scrunch of her snout, you can tell she's actually thinking about it. Perhaps this alone is telling. Not so very long ago, she'd have rejected the concept outright, perhaps even become hostile by way of self-defense. Yet, even as such a thought surely weakens her via her connection to Betrayal, she's thinking about it.
"If you were a card," Mudi eventually says. "…You wouldn't be in my main deck, but… side deck for sure."
Busta looks elsewhere in secondhand embarrassment. Vizsla looks like she concurs… but stops eavesdropping anyway.
No.767980
>Shorthorned
"Strange, isn't it," Vizsla says. "Hundreds of years I've lived, and there's never enough time to do everything I… aim to…"
Vizsla's gaze grows distant, as if she were looking at something far-off. "Hmm… I don't often feel deja vu. I don't recall having said this before."
>roll for ???
No.767981
>>767979Amy smiles. "I'll take that. We haven't really known each other for that long. I mean, we met kinda a while ago at this point. But, I didn't really get to know you much at first."
"Shortyhorns was my first real connection. Before that, I was just sorta floating around helping people. Before that, I was alone in the woods with my thoughts. And, before that I was… well, kinda a monster."
"And that's just my Amy parts. The demon side of me… well… I can't remember anything from before Tartarus. So… yeah not a lot of people to bond with then, either," she laughs a sort of tragic laugh.
"It's been so… amazing getting to connect with people. It's made me so much more happy than when I was a monster. So much more happy than I could have ever imagined. Even here in Tartarus, I have people I like and people who like me that make it not feel… like Tartarus."
No.767982
>>767980Shorthorns perks her ears up, looking at Vizsla with renewed interest. "Aim to what?" She asks simply, hoping she doesn't need to pry too hard to get her to answer
[1d10] Roll for ???
Roll #1 10 = 10 No.767983
>Amy
Mudi seems to eventually realize how strange her metaphor sounded, and the more you speak in such sincere ways, the more she cringes at her phrasing.
Eventually the agony of social faux pas passes, and Mudi gets back to thinking. "I could say a lot of the same about my own time on the surface," she says. "Always on the run from one place to another… only being able to steal, no matter what it was. Food, water, supplies… talents, lifespan, power, souls… it brought me all to the very limits of what a mortal could achieve. Now here I am… trying to escape mortality, as so many others have… only in a way that those others couldn't have… retaining my freedom as a mortal, yet bolstering my power beyond anyone's… whether mortal, demon, angel or god…"
She looks upward.
"I suppose, unlike you… I don't have a point where I could say, 'I was a monster."
>Shorthorned
As Vizsla responds, a sudden wave of weariness envelops you…
And, just as a swimmer may float, with one half above the surface of the water, and another half below, you perceive two scenes.
The first, wherein Vizsla tells you of such idle affairs as she has taken for hobbies. Studies into alpine plant life. Ice carvings for seasonal competitions. Snowboarding, and the craft of serving shaved ice in exotic flavors.
The second, wherein one of your students laments to you, Professor ###### of ##### Academy, how precious little time there is afforded to students, between studying for midterms, training body and soul for the semester's end battle royale, and for rescuing one's companions from the grasp of the #### of ####, whether he be in the labyrinth Backstage, or elsewhere…
The sensation fades. Gone is your tweed jacket, returned for your traditional tribal poncho. Vizsla's in the middle of telling you just how to get the syrup of shaved ice distributed perfectly for a consistent flavor.
No.767984
>>767983Amy pauses for a while, lingering on Mudi's final words. At first, Amy thought Mudi was saying that she was never a monster. Then, Amy realizes that Mudi was saying that she still IS a monster.
Amy sighs, she leaves that last part alone for now. "A lot of that is why I wanted to spend time with you and Vizzy and the other witches. Even with all the connections I've made, none of them are because of anything in common."
"I mean, that's special in its own way, of course. Having people who you connect with because of who you are - not WHAT you are - is really nice. But… I've never had a like… place I belong."
"It's so hard to put into words. Like a family, I guess. People who you have a connection to just because you were born from and with them. When I found out I'm a witch, I got so excited. It was like I finally had that kind of person! Someone I could just have that sort of bond with. We've been through similar things even though we weren't together. So, I was really hoping to get to spend some more time with you and get to be your friend."
No.767985
>Amy
Mudi stops dead in her tracks, face screwed up in frenzied pain, as you describe the Witch's curse as a form of connection. Her countenance falls, and shadows cover her face. She mouths words, and yet they are unintelligible, perhaps even to herself.
You recall what you learned of the Witches of Gehenna from Regina. Four orphan fillies, for the crime of being born as Witches, were driven from their homeland, the Country of Red Thunder… hounded and pursued across land and sea and air by witch-hunters… chased into the cold, cold arms of GEHENNA. Regina, made into the sacrifice for the other three, fuel for their banquet of power, wrought of treachery…
Yet, Mudi's grimace eventually loosens. "That's… one way to think of it."
She frowns at you. "I sensed… her… magical signature upon you, just before we entered Tartarus… Regina's magic…"
Her eyes fall back down. "I hope you know what happens to my 'friends.'"
No.767986
>>767985Amy frowns and furrows her brow in thought for a moment. She looks up at the empty void 'above' them. "I think that it's BECAUSE of those things that there's a connection. People look toward each other for help when times are sad. The world has every taught me that these past few years. Yeah, a lot of sucky stuff happened, but look at what's happening here. So many people we never thought could work together are here now BECAUSE so much bad has happened to them. I know, I know, they all have their own reasons. But, that's how all things like that start. People wouldn't do anything if they didn't have reasons for doing it."
"But, even though their time together was for their own reasons, eventually that time together makes them happy…"
Amy looks again at Mudi with a compassionate expression. "I want you to answer a question for me, Moody."
No.767987
>>767983Shorthorns winces as she suddenly feels herself falling out of space and time, her perception of reality suddenly in flux as she's stuck wondering what Vizsla just said about her winter past-times, and wondering if her team is ready for their upcoming chemistry finals… as if she even knew what 'chemistry' was!
She shakes her head clear of distraction, looking around and re-grasping the here and now just as Vizsla tells her of how to get shaved ice JUST right as she stammers, "D-did you feel that…?" She asks, wondering if she was the only one who just had such an odd experience. "Was I the only one…?"
No.767988
>>767986Mudi looks over the remnants of her faction, and the others, as you speak, silently considering your words. You can sense her gloomy objections just waiting beyond the dim surface of her eyes… yet they remain locked away there, kept silent as you offer another outlook.
Mudi thinks about your request for some time.
"I swear, if you say updog…"
>>767987Vizsla raises an eyebrow at you. "I didn't think my description was so vivid as to make you daydream for it. I don't do free samples, but… I suppose I can cut you a discount. Want one? Three Bits."
Vizsla's expression is unlike anything you have ever seen on her face– no hint of condescension or irony or contempt, just a hobbyist's pure interest.
No.767990
>>767988Shorthorns takes that answer as a clear 'no', that she indeed was the only one to experience that bizarre 'shift' in her perspective, to which she shakes her head trying to focus.
"Uh…Yeah, actually, that would be interesting. I don't think I've had what you're describing before, this 'shaved ice'. Is it like ice cream?"
No.767991
>Amyhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l0p2k5eSJUUA million angry rebuttals crash against one another, storming just beyond the dim surface of her eyes. Yet… she stows them, with a practiced restraint… cultivated by centuries of taking Vizsla's provocations.
"No."
>Shorthorned"Not in the slightest!" Vizsla declares. "It's a completely different artistic medium, one for a subtler and more refined palate!"
Digging into her food supplies, Vizsla produces a matrix of exotic fruits preserved by magic, and floats out a number of chemical and alchemical implements… which, for now, feel quite familiar to you. Getting to work, she whips up a singular bowl of multicolored shaved ice, at the low price of three bits.
No.767992
>>767991Amy lets out a long sigh. She visibly shakes slightly. "I want to help you, Moody. I don't want you to feel that way."
"But, you're right. I know what happened to you. I'm not mad about it. I don't blame you. But, I know a lot about you. I can't talk about how to help you as you are now…"
Amy reaches into the hammerspace that is her unseen pockets and pulls out 4 attunement stones. The very exact amount she pulled out is clearly meant as a message. Amy looks Mudi in the face with a somber expression as she holds them out to her.
No.767993
>Amy
Mudi looks at the four attunement stones… she looks at them, and keeps looking at them, and for a time and time again, she looks at them, to the point that she, and you, and you, my dear reader, and I, even I, cannot help but lose track of how long she looks at them, in the depths of her longing.
"Amy…" Mudi says.
No.767994
>>767993"If you like me at all, you'll give me a chance to help you," Amy says in an almost pleading tone.
No.767995
>>767991Shorthorns watches with rapt attention, her mind suddenly abuzz with knowledge unfamiliar to her regarding chemical reactions and how the syrup is formed from a delicate balance of heat and sugar… and Shorthorns tries to ignore HOW she knows that as she delivers the three bits Vizsla asked of.
She looks over the shaved ice with the creamy, sugary syrup seeping between every crystalline flake of ice, and she licks her lips in anticipation as she takes a small bite out of it, savoring her first taste. Her eyes open wide as she lets the ice melt in her mouth, and with it the delicious, fruity flavors spread across her tongue. "Mmmmm!" She says in approval
No.767996
>Vizsla
"Ohoho," Vizsla says. "Save your applause for the end, my dear taster. Syrup distribution isn't just a matter of making every single bite a burst of flavor. There has to be a rhythm, a buildup, and a grand finale, for the shaved ice to have truly been a work of… art…"
Without warning, Vizsla trots ahead of you, her expression jolting and jumping between different extremes.
Frustration. Disgust. Contempt. Mockery in preparation for some cruel joke. Nausea. Regret. Pain.
You recall the especial curse of Betrayal, to which Vizsla bound herself at the behest of GEHENNA… the same as Mudi, and Azawakh.
Did Vizsla, a moment ago, perhaps consider you to be more than a mere asset… to be a friend?
No.767997
>>767996Shorthorns continues taking slow bites of her shaved ice, lapping up every drop of sweet, melty goodness (but moving at a steady pace lest it melt before she finishes), following behind Viszla and watching her twisting emotions as she skips ahead. She wishes she knew more to help Vizsla, knowing how complex the emotions she must be feeling right now, how much it must hurt to have something akin to a friend for one such as her… but Shorthorns finds often enough the simplest approach is best, and rather than overthink things, she moves up to keep pace with her, and simply smiles in gratitude.
"It's REALLY good Vizsla, thank you. I wish I knew how to make something this tasty, Climbing Fire Clan could make spicy food with the best of them but frozen treats are something I had no experience with before meeting you all."
No.767998
>Shorthorned"You…" Vizsla growls through gritted teeth. The hair on the back of your neck rises, for the hideous sound of Vizsla's hateful voice sounds to be a threat.
"…Like it?" Vizsla continues. The question is genuine, not merely as a confirmation of the taste, but as a question of reality from someone who finds reality to not be so reliable.
"Oh, um…" another voice says.
You see Busta, having sidled up near you. And, the cheeky bug-ger has produced a spoon to taste a little of the shaved ice!
"Yeah, it's good," Busta says. "It's really good."
"I'm–" Vizsla snaps… but she restrains her snarl. "…glad… you like it."
Busta opens his mouth to say more, but Vizsla then presses on ahead, picking up the pace to get away from you and him. Busta's face sinks into immediate regret as he watches her go. "Urgh…" he sighs. "Sorry, Shorthorned…"
>Both"You know… Amy…" Mudi says, looking ahead of you.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JZEiCvTK_fYBeyond you, upon the horizon, you see the great helios of a most peculiar Anchor. Where most Anchors you have passed so far have been crushed, blasted, ruined, annihilated by the War of LIMBO, this one hangs in the air, a twilight coin, a warm and rounded spark of fading evening sunlight. A glimpse of the surface you left behind… held here now by a singular wish from the ancient days–
Say to the moment, Stay, thou art so beautiful… and then…Within the great halo of autumnal sunset light, you see a worn path, flanked on either side by lavendar and sage brush, by basalt and granite, by pine and cedar and juniper and aspen and spruce. The path winds up through the rocks and the plants, beneath the echoes of wild birds, eternally casting their shade upon the tiny cosmos frozen in time. The path moseys up across switchbacks, comprised of dirt and stone, a cairn or two to mark where the path has faded, a token of goodwill from those who have beheld it before. The path carves its way up from the base of a hill, up toward a saddle between two great ridges of a mountain range. You see auburn clouds, and the white-capped peaks of far-off violet arches, just a bit beyond where the path curves beyond your sight…
This, then… to be the Soterio Field; and the Momentary Lake, hidden just beyond the impenetrable defenses of the Field.
"…I'm starting to think it's too late," Mudi says.
No.767999
>>767998Amy sees the anchor fade into existence and feels the urgency.
"I WILL help you, Mudi," she says it like a threat. "I won't let you spend all of eternity miserable. You can either listen to me now or not, but either way I'm saving you from this."
Amy thrusts her hoof-paw holding out the attunement stones one last time.
>[1d10] DC-4 persuasionRoll #1 2 = 2 No.768000
>>767998Shorthorns looks at Vizsla as she moves on ahead, nodding her head in confirmation that she does indeed truly like her shaved ice as Busta comes up besides her. Shorthorns shakes her head, "You didn't do anything wrong, Busta. I can only imagine how hard it is for her, learning how to deal with her emotions. We can just try our best to be honest and let her sort through them on her own."
>Though, she watches Vizsla to make sure she doesn't go to Mudi, assuming Amy still needs time to talk to the other WitchAs they arrive upon the great plains of the Soterio Field, Shorthorns takes a moment to breathe in the un-naturally earthy beauty of this slice of Tartarus, the plants and stone beneath her hooves making her feel more at home than she has been since she first entered this realm.
"It's beautiful, huh?" She asks Busta, marveling at the sights around her. "Hard to believe something so calming could precede something so tumultuous."
No.768001
>Shorthorned
Busta hangs his head as Vizsla goes on.
"Didn't I…?" Busta mumbles. "…I've spent quite some time with the two of them… actually, even with the three of them, when Azawakh was still around. I got into the habit of sticking up for the other two whenever Vizsla got into her moods… yelling at her when she yelled at them… fighting her when she fought them…. but… was that the right choice?"
>Amy
Mudi casts one last look over the attunement stones.
"…hang onto those. They're useful. Don't waste them before the moment is right."
>Both
The Saviors, the Light Brigade, the Spiders, the Ecclesians, and the Witches of Gehenna… what remains of these travelers stop at the boundary of the Soterio Field, pausing there.
"A mere impenetrable boundary is all that stands between us and world peace," Gegenschein declares. "Well, local regional peace, anyway. Hoohoohoo. Quite a small matter considering what we've just survived."
Hope grunts. "As for how we cross it…"
Buiwong produces the Anathema Scripture. "Luckily for us, I remembered to bring the ol' blueprints."
"We should run some tests," Chorazin says. "Before we attempt to pass it ourselves."
"Right," Mudi says. "I suppose it'll be us, then… Everyone else, stand back. Wouldn't want to put anyone at unnecessary risk here."
The others hold their silence in dread and anticipation.
No.768003
>>768001"Is the effect supposed to be permanent?" Amy asks as she contemplates just taking a little dip in the flowers to see what it feels like.
No.768004
>>768001Shorthorns nods her head to Busta. "It was. Sometimes friends need you to stand up to them, to keep them from going down the wrong path. You did right by her for calling her out when she got too mean, and deep down I'm sure she appreciates you more for it than if you just stood by and did nothing."
Shorthorns looks around the great fields, before looking to the others, "I need a reminder, what makes this place so impenetrable? It just looks like a big open field, what's the trick?"
No.768005
>Shorthorned
"Right…" Busta says. "But, I'm starting to wonder… if I was there as much for Vizsla, as I tried to be for Mudi and Azawakh. Friends might need someone to stand up to them… but they also need someone to stand up for them, too."
>Both
As the leaders of the factions approach the boundary of the Soterio Field, they begin to conduct a number of tests upon the barest edge of the Field's energy, cross-referencing their results with the esoteric text of the Anathema Scripture. Their nervous caution in their experiments suggests you still have a little time here…
Desert lamp looks your way. "Apparently, the Field obliterates the will of those who enter it. And anyone who succumbs to the influence of the Field… well, just look."
She gestures to a spot up in the mountains governed by the Soterio Field. You see many mighty Umbrals there, laying this way or that, as if they'd suddenly dropped to an impromptu nap in the middle of whatever they had been doing. The color of their bodies and clothes is gone, replaced by the honeyed aura of the Field– conveying their eternal embrasure by the Field. Some appear to be recent additions – runaway scraps from whatever was left of each Layer's army. Others appear to be from distant times and places, judging by their foreign garb and weaponry. Some even appear to be mortal… victims from the time when the Momentary Lake was still upon the surface of your world, some thousands and thousands of years ago.
No.768006
>>768005"I'm sure you tried to be there for all of them as they needed it. Vizsla isn't the most outwardly friendly witch I've ever met, if you tried TOO hard you might have just pushed her away even further. I think you did the best you could have."
As the others point out the true danger of the Soterio Field, pointing out to the sleeping, lumbering Umbras who attempted to walk through and had all their vigor and drive sapped from them as they're doomed to an eternal rest, Shorthorns winces and tries to consider a way to avoid meeting a similar fate. "Hmmm… does it suck the will of inanimate objects? Things that had no will to begin with?"
She attempts to construct a buffalo golem, a statue to wander into the Field and see what happens.
[1d10]
Roll #1 3 = 3 No.768007
>>768005"But, is it permanent?" Amy asks again.
No.768008
>Shorthorned
You construct a very small buffalo golem and send it forth toward the Field. Unfortunately, the buffalo is just a little bit too small. Mudi walks to and fro during the experiments, and fails to notice the golem walking nearby. She accidentally kicks it beyond the edge of the Field, and as it falls over, it wiggles its legs desperately, but just can't get itself upright. Mudi gasps and reflexively reaches out to the golem to help it, but Hope catches her by the shoulder, pulling her back before she herself can cross the boundary and fall into an eternal slumber.
The buffalo golem stops moving, despite its lack of consciousness. The power of the Field does not seem to be psychological in nature.
>Amy
"You're asking the wrong gal," Desert Lamp shrugs. "I design fashion. Impermanence is the name of my game."
Supper of Crows shakes her head. "I don't think anybody knows. You'd have to rescue someone trapped in the Field to find out, but that's too risky to attempt."
>Both
Eventually, the faction leaders come back, having concluded their tests.
"Looks like we have a way through," Hope says.
"Indeed," Gegenschein concurs. "The Field does NOT wash over the will through a direct attack upon the mind… but rather, through the unstoppable attrition… of Time."
Buiwong flips his mane. "Lucky for us, we've got quite a few who have the power to command Time, don't we?"
Mudi sighs. "Hurricanrana did…"
"So did Hafaza," Blessings adds. "…And Box."
Holy Hours looks a little miffed that nobody calls on him.
No.768009
>>768008Shorthorns winces as she sees her poor little buffalo kicks (inadvertently) by Mudi, wandering almost too closely to the edge of the field as well as she witnesses the small, wiggling golem take its ultimate rest.
"Not even stone and earth is immune to its effects… incredible."
As the others point out the weakness of the fields being the flow of time itself, she turns and looks to the others, mourning internally for the loss of those names just listed. "What sort of abilities do we speak of? Stopping time, slowing time?"
No.768010
>>768008Amy looks out at the field to see where the closest person is to the edge of the field. She starts walking along the perimeter to see if she can spot anyone closer.
>[1d10] to find a fallen individual close to the edgeRoll #1 5 = 5 No.768011
>Amy
Some distance "east" along the slope of the hill, you see an Umbral slumped back against a smooth plate of slickrock, asleep. They're about 20 feet or so from the edge of the boundary. A fair distance…
>Both
Holy Hours clears his throat to speak up–
"The ability to stop time is the most effective," Gegenschein says. "Although we couldn't construct a definitive hierarchy of which ability is the most effective, the general rule seems to be that, the more dramatic the effect you can inflict on Time, the more useful it will be in piercing the boundary of the Soterio Field. For example…"
Holy Hours grumbles.
Desert Lamp flicks her head in his direction. "Question in the back."
"Well, go on," Gegenschein hoots, clearly having enjoyed tormenting his introverted colleague. "Let's keep track of time here."
Stowing his annoyance, Holy Hours holds up a deep purple cord, the same shade as his hair. "These charms of mine will share the benefits of all temporal manipulation between everyone who touches them. Myself, Leather Cloak, and Sir Gegenschein possess the ability to stop time, among other powers."
"As do I," Volkama says.
"I can't stop time," Blessings says. "But I can slow it or speed it up."
"Very well," Holy Hours says. "Gentlecolts, I propose that each of us stagger our time stopping abilities in sequence, as we move in a close group to the Momentary Lake. Lady Blessings, use your abilities after each of us stops time so we can get the most out of each temporal pause."
"Understood," Blessings affirms.
No.768012
>>768011Amy points out the umbral slumped against the rock. "Surely someone knows how to lasso, right?" she asks everyone around.
No.768013
>Amy
Anzu sighs. "Lion and Fox did…"
Evil's Judgment steps over to you, brings out a coil of rope, and untangles it a little into a lasso. "I always liked being able to capture bounties like this."
She spins the rope about to warm up a bit, then flings it at the Umbral.
[1d10+6]
Roll #1 10 + 6 = 16
No.768014
>>768011"That seems like a good idea - everyone take turns casting their spells to slow down time so we can make sure there is never a window where it's NOT stopped, even for a moment."
>>768012>>768011As Amy suggests using a lasso, Shorthorns nods her head. "That's a good idea too… just in case something goes wrong, someone back here with a rope could pull us back in case we fell asleep, as a precaution."
No.768015
>>768013"Hey! Good job!" Amy says as she raises her hoof-paw for a congratulatory high… five?
No.768016
>Amy
EJ lassos the fella in one toss, pulling the lasso tight with a tug. After returning your gesture, she and Anzu drag the Umbral out of the Field. Once he's beyond the barrier, they step back, and keep their eye on him. The Umbral remains asleep upon the cold stone, not moving, not even breathing, seemingly still held by the eternity of the Field. The portion of the lasso which entered the field also remains honey-colored, despite how briefly it was inside the Field.
Evil's Judgment gulps. "…Well, permanent or not, it definitely doesn't wear off quickly."
>Both
"Yeah…" says the Dragon. "Hey, that's an idea! Maybe not a lasso, but– a lot of us can control Space. Would that help?"
"Yes, in the event of an emergency," Holy Hours says. "It would be too risky to rend shortcuts through space on our entry through the Field. But, should any of us fail to manipulate Time, those of you capable of commanding Space must remain on standby to retrieve us all from the Field."
Those in your party who boast great command over Space nod solemnly.
"With all of that said," Mudi continues. "…I think it should be as simple as that. Once we're all ready… the trailhead's right there."
No.768017
>>768016Shorthorns nods her head in affirmation of the plan. "Alright. I volunteer to take the lead," She says, moving her way up to the front of the group. "Casters will stay at staggered points, casting their spells in a way that the next one starts ALWAYS before the previous one ends. No openings what so ever."
No.768018
>>768016"Hmm…" Amy contemplates. "What happens if I…?"
>Jhana of Uprooting Poison on the 'sleeping' umbral No.768019
>Amy
It requires an immense portion of your strength, and leaves you not a little dizzy after the fact, but you manage… well, not to 'cure' the effect. Instead, you manage to 'push' the influence of the Field a short distance back, until it leaves the body of the Umbral. The Umbral stretches and yawns, and while he's still half-asleep, EJ slips the lasso off of him.
The Umbral rolls over and grunts, clearly intent on continuing his nap… but through his own volition, not the influence of the Field. Its remnant energy lingers just behind him, where you pushed it. Eternity is not so easily escaped, it seems.
Supper of Crows comes over and gives you a little pat on the head, which abates the exhaustion of your effort.
>Both
Holy Hours starts passing out more cords of his hair, which your allies use to bond themselves to one another in a way that won't impede movement overmuch. Perhaps feeling a little self-conscious, Hours assures everyone of his regular shampoo use and the skill by which his wife made these hair-charms. But, the mood is too nervous among your allies to banter much with him.
No.768020
>>768019Once everyone is connected via Holy Hours' hair, Shorthorns also gets the idea to bring out Shei's chains - perhaps a double-edged sword, as if one person falls asleep it might spread to everyone else connected by it, but on the other, it might also serve to keep those who unintentionally pass OUT of their time-dilation field to keep the effects of the time-dilation and protect them from the fields' effect.
[1d10] To expand out Shei's chain and pass it along to others to hold on to
Roll #1 6 = 6 No.768021
>>768019"Thank you," Amy says to Supper with a wag of her tail at the head pat.
"So, that kinda hurts my plan. I was thinking like… what if we just threw someone over to the lake…?"
No.768022
>Both
Your allies wordlessly accept the black chain, the remnant of Shei's power, despite the risks. Perhaps they feel now a little nostalgia for the presence of Shei.
As Amy suggests launching someone toward the Lake, the notion goes over like a lead balloon with your allies.
"Yes, regrettably," Galton says. "The Soterio Field is a dome. You'd not be able to send someone over and restore them from afar, I'm afraid."
"Bit like the Firmament, eh?" Buiwong jokes.
Some of the Ecclesians glower at his flippancy… but at the very least, it broke the nervous atmosphere.
"Pending any other suggestions for alternatives… are we all ready?" Holy Hours asks.
No.768023
>>768022As the others take hold of Shei's links, Shorthorns gripping on to hers tightly in her cloven hoof, she looks to Holy Hours and nods.
"No time like the present. Let's move on."
No.768024
>>768022"Look at us, all working together," Amy says with a wag of her tail as she takes a chain.
>[1d10] for a little encouragementRoll #1 4 = 4 No.768026
>BothAmy's remark gives everyone some pause. Indeed, not so very long ago, each of the four factions surrounding you could never have dreamed of receiving one another's aid… nor of giving it to the others. Even though Mudi had been the one to propose this alliance to enter Tartarus together, there is little doubt that the Mudi of yesteryear could not have unified these factions… not the way she was back then. It was through the work of the Saviors that this alliance, however tenuous, came together, and holds together even now…
After one last moment, Shorthorned rallies the troops to face onward.
"Indeed," Holy Hours says. "The present is all we have– for time has stopped!"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TTQZlijIVo8The Shorthorned Dragon leads a great stampede, matching her determination and vigor with the pace of all the others. A deep dread falls upon your allies as they hustle, with the weight of the Soterio Field looming all about them. Not a word is spoken, not even a grunt or a gasp when someone's hoof catches on a rock, or when one person bumps into another. The only voices are those of Holy Hours, Blessings, Volkama, Leather Cloak and Gegenschein. Each calls out when they're manipulating time, and when their power is near to running out. It's all anybody can concentrate on, lest fear overwhelm their overworked bravery.
Still…
As this march goes on, the overwhelming horror of the Soterio Field cannot help but be lessened as its novelty wears off. The five time-manipulators settle into a smooth rhythm, as each calls out a bit of time-centric wordplay with each of their powers. Your allies quickly learn the pace of those ahead and those behind them. It's not long before they stop bumping into one another or giving each other flat tires with a misstep after a tricky section of trail.
No.768027
>>768026Amy contemplates how many have made it this far. She looks around to see how many unconscious demons still surround them.
>[1d10] to look around>[1d10] to keep in rhythm with the others if necessaryRoll #1 2 = 2 /
Roll #2 5 = 5 No.768028
>>768026Shorthorns looks behind her as she leads the charge, finding herself at the head of her very own stampede. As a child… as a younger child, at any rate… she would often dream of fulfilling this role one day. Becoming the head of a great stampede as her forebears had before her, being the first buffalo at the front of a mighty collective of stomping hooves bounding across the plains. As she looks back and sees all those with her, from every organization, she can't help but imagine this is the single WEIRDEST herd any buffalo has ever lead, a veritable random assortment of creatures from every corner of the globe all racing together.
And she couldn't be more proud. She lets out a triumphant MOOOOOO to keep spirits up, not so loud as to overtake the voices of the critical time-manipulators, but enough to share her pride with her clansmates.
No.768029
>AmyIndeed, there are many– it's too tough to keep track of them all. Not merely for their number, or for the density of the forest all about you, where they lay forever caught… it's for the glimpses *between*.
>Bothhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=69DQZFobMNUAmid the rocks and the trees, the brush and the grasses, rays of glimmering evening sunlight flit, held fast where they shine. In each ray of frozen light, like a stained glass mural, you see– yourself. Your allies. Snippets of these lives, from all across time. Quests undertaken long ago; past explorations; dinners eaten with families; vistas of homelands, now long abandoned…
A stir passes through some of your allies as they no doubt behold these glimmering fragments of the past. But then, Shorthorned bellows, and the deep rumble of her ancestral call brings them back to the present, and they press on with one mind, one body…
As the march continues, Cloak, Hours, Blessings, Volkama, and Gegenschein check in with one another, and each one rotates in to help Blessings, lest she be brought to early exhaustion. Those surrounding them cast quick powers of restoration, easing their fatigue. And, with Shei's chain connecting everyone, those healing powers come to you as well, keeping your legs and hooves from pain as you hike onward and onward…
No.768030
>>768029Shorthorns keeps a straight eye ahead, her only goal being leading her herd to their destination, the Momentary Lake and her great stampede arriving at it being her only thought. She does not ignore the serene, eerie beauty of her surroundings, nor the echoes of the past emanating from both within her herd and from those who've fallen to the Fields' slumber. But she keeps herself focused, intent on being the one to keep everyone else in line and striding in one direction: forwards.
No.768031
>Bothhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BmOR6DmmlAYThe trail continues, ascending and descending, curving and straightening, rocky and worn here, smooth and level there, further and further into the hidden depths of the mountains which enshrine the Lake. It's all anyone among your allies can do to keep their eyes as straight as Shorthorned's. Yet on all sides, above and below, the frozen light remains a window to the past. Good memories… as well as bad ones. Poor choices of words, misunderstandings becoming mistakes, accidents becoming disasters… and yet also, the victories large and small, the successful rescues, the hard-won battles… and the rumors of war yet to come. Regret and triumph. Many memories which the bearers long wished that nobody else would find out… All they have witnessed, all they have suffered, all they have done, all they have failed to do… whether for evil, or for good…
But, what else is there to do? Whatever your allies come to think of those ahead of them, and those behind them, there is nothing they can do more now but follow the trail unto their destination, and aid one another in doing so. The time manipulators keep up their rotation, sneaking what little sips of water they can take between their call-outs and their labored breathing. The powers of healing continue just the same, as does the interminable road…
