/monster/ - The Last Bastion of Romance★

>last update was in April

It's about time ya bastard. I thought you were dead.glad to see you're alive and well

>>315552 (OP)

I just read through the new character sheet, and noticed that we still have the 6 jars of plants - 3 prisoner, 2 mushroom, and 1 unknown.

I thought we sold one mushroom & two prisoner fruit to buy Klo's fertility cure in the 4th archive.

>>315596

you are correct, it seems i was lax on updating that point.

>>315572

was not dead, I was however doing The Hidden Man Cyoa. you can probably still find it on the catalog.

>>315552 (OP)

It's been a strange month for you. First you get attacked and cursed by a dragon, then marry another survivor of the attack ,a cute kobold named Klo. Then you head towards a tower owned by the master of Tirria, a living doll who helped you get out of the wreckage of the attack to get help for your mark. You end up contracting to the Lady Of Midnight, a powerful demon, Klo seduces a Jinko named Khaldir and convinces you and her to marry as well. Then on top of that you gained feelings for Your now teacher Maeliqe due to her kindness and diligent tutalage. Now you’ve impregnated her and decided to marry her in the future, she reciprocates. It's a shorthand memory, but all you can muster without getting into many specifics.

It's been two days since your group left for the expedition. Two long days in the cold riding a carriage. Your phantom hound “Stray” sits beside you as you pilot the carriage, he keeps an eye on the surroundings from your side his panting is quite apparent to you yet no one seems to be able to see him.

In your group are a number of interesting people.

Reamon, a young male magician who specializes in abjuration and defensive magic. He’s married to Veronica who appears to be a form of a cursed form in the shape of a woman. He is the apprentice to Cain, an old necromancer.

Veronica is a cursed sword who’s married to Reamon, and always must be near him.

Cammelion, a char black minotaur and biomancer, apprentice to Mel the Chief Biomancer.

Fel, bitch, noblewoman and apprentice to Zalibel, a rival of your own master Maeliqe. Seem used to getting her own way.

Searching for the Necromancer’s hiding place is difficult to say the least. Locals say little to nothing, seemingly scared of their wrath. No sighting of undead, patrols run dry and find nothing, scouting is proving ineffective. You need to find the place they’re hiding but it's bloody impossible! This is a fool’s errand. Or so everyone thinks.

Your dog recent smelled something off. According to him, it smelt long dead in the direction you’re heading.

Almost immediately, as soon as you’re sure that this is the right choice, Fel pipes in.

“Do you really think this will end any differently?”

Reamon shrugs.

“It’s possible. Not very much we can do otherwise if you think about it.”

Cammelion sniffs the air, her hood slowly pulls back across her horns.

“Do you smell that?”

You sigh “Rot?”

“Exactly.”

You bring the carriage to stop as a village comes into view. The smell of rot appears to have been a field of snow pear trees, lying in the fertilized slushy mush that helps them grow. These people are somewhat out of the way, but you stop in the town. You’re greeted by people when you walk by, they seem to be having a good time these days.

They stable the horses, and you find a small inn, set up with rooms for the night. All seems well for a nightly rest.

However, your phantom dog seems ill at ease. You can tell something is wrong, very wrong. You idly nudge Cammelion, who nudges Reamon and Reamon nudges Fel. You all sit in the room, waiting as the sun sets. Reamon set up a barrier of false speech, confusing what eavesdroppers will hear in this room to really bad puns, jokes and merry laughter. In addition to bed springs.

The question in unanimous. “What wrong?”

>What is your plan of action?

> Stray smells Rot in the area still, says it stinks of humans, not defectation but of rotting flesh.

Rolled 5 (1d20)

>>315700

Simply state that you have a feeling that something is truly happening here. Instruct that you and the couple will go out to investigate while the other two will momentarily stand guard until either you return or after some time has passed.

Rolled 78 (1d100)

>>315700

Ask if anybody can use some sort of familiar or spell to discretely check about and see what's going on. If they can't, head out ourselves and see if we can't find anything out, while abusing our own invisible seeing eye dog powers if we need to. No sense in tipping anybody else off on us having that thing if we can avoid it.

Good to be back, by they way.

Rolled 6 (1d20)

>>315700

I favor sending a familiar if anyone has one, otherwise the first plan will do.

>>315727

All for this as well.

Are we doing d20 or d100?

Almost forgot to sage. Thank you Captcha.

>>315974

d100

>>315700

“I can feel it in my bones, they’re hiding something important. I can smell something behind a purposeful mask, human flesh, preservatives and sulfur.”

Reamon’s eye glimmer for a single moment.

“Necromancy supplies, possibly related to mummification if you smell preservatives.”

Fel, for once seeming serious merely nods.

“If that’s the case, then we have to investigate. How should we go about this?”

“Do we have scouting magic?”

Reamon places a hand to his chin, slowly rubbing his thin wisps of hair.

“Maybe, if they have a counter-scouting barrier I might not see much. They may be alerted to our presence if that’s the case.”

“If that’s so, then I have an idea for the moment. We may need to do a more traditional scouting measure…”

Stray alerts you that you’re being watched.

“… that complicates things.”

Everyone, except Fel, seems puzzled. They stare at you waiting on your next word. This stands until Fel sighs.

A voice echos in all of your minds.

“We’re being watched is what you mean yes?”

“That would be the case.”

“God fucking damn it”. You feel the thought from Cammelion.

“A disaster in waiting I suppose.” You hear from Reamon and Veronica.

Fel lies back on her bed. “It’s going to be hard to make a move.”

You move over and open the window to get some chill air in the hot room. At the same time, stray modifies his form, giving himself small wings, he glides down from the window into the village below.

“You’re right, next to impossible really.”

“Why do I feel you have something up your sleeve.”

“Not much of one really. Our only option is to wait for now. Reamon, if you can hold a protective barrier in reserve. If we detect hostile magic we will need something to cover ourselves.”

There is a momentary pause.

“Alright, I should have a suitable barrier ready if something happens.”

You sit back and lean against the wall, and focus your sight through Stray. You instruct him using your mind, and take him into a tour of the village. People don’t react to his presence as normal. You send him to scour the fields, he reports that the fields smell normal, and that the flesh smell is coming from elsewhere.

“Are you doing something?”

“Concentrating.”

Stray then heads towards the center of town, looking at a statue. It appears to be a stature of a priest of light, a hero seen once in a generation if at all during the darkest times. Statues like this are quite common in places where they have been born once before.

Stray sniffs around, then alerts you to something. There are two undead guarding the statue, just underground hidden from sight. Stray alerts you that there’s a glowing stone in the palm of the statue, glowing white-green.

The presence of undead seems more frequent now that stray is onto the hiding places. They’re in the fields, the building walls, bones scattered in the pines…

This could be bad.

>Whats the plan?

Rolled 62 (1d100)

>>316004

Tell the others about the stone the statue is holding, see if they might have any ideas about it. Also tell them about the undead everywhere, see if they don't have anything useful to contribute there. Two options I can think off are just try to leave before anything goes wrong, or try setting up in case they plan on trying to spring a trap on us later. Hopefully more information will help come up with some better options.

>>316035

Going with this.

>>316004

Stray flies up into the window again, his claws scratch the surface of the wooden frame, no one really seems to notice.

You sigh. “We have a problem. Simply put, undead hidden in the ground all around the village. Not only that, the statue has some sort of glowing stone buried in its hand. No idea what it is.”

Reamon amusingly enough, raises his hand.

“Shoot.”

“It might be a focusing crystal for some sort of spell. Could be controlling the undead or maintaining surveillance, or both.”

Fel shakes her head.

“Only an idiot would place a crystal like that in the open, why make it so obvious that it could be picked up by an apprentice’s magic?”

Cammelion’s brow furrows as she stares right at you. Her large eyes bead down, but then her mood seems to suddenly lighten.

“I don’t doubt Anon’s abilities. He is after all, perceptive.”

“I bet it's all they could manage to sneak… in such a limited timeframe.”

The room goes quiet, the candles grow dim.

“We’ve been had. This is a trap. This place is Two days from the most likely locations of the lair northward, we’ve been traveling for the same amount of time. Someone’s come back here and laid something for us.”

Fel smashes her fist down on the bedside, letting loose a mighty “poof”.

“How did they know we were leaving, it was entirely quiet. Wards set to hide plans from others and obscure even telepathy. Its bullshit.”

You sigh.

“Never assume an opponent is entirely unaware of your plans.”

“ There is no way…”

“There clearly was. Either someone told them or they have something that allows them to penetrate masking… barriers…”

The room goes silent again.

“We’re leaving, NOW! Grab everything you can’t live without, we’re getting the carriage, it's still mounted up.”

People do as you say and haul ass.

You open the door to the inn, finding it much more disheveled than you remember. You focus extremely hard, eventually realising that your group was caught in an illusion. All of the people being merry downstairs are decaying corpses, lying dead on the long tables. The lit chandelier is a decayed wreck on the ground. All of you move out. Reamon’s barrier is attached to him, so you will need to stay close to him for it to work.

Coming to the door you kick it open, finding the earth literally moving beneath your feet. It dawns into a realization, you might not have time to get to the carriage.

>What do you do?

>>316419

>it's a matter of knowing HOW to manipulate the flame properly. Anon has a list of things he is capable of at the moment in the character sheet listed in the top post.

Rolled 30 (1d100)

>>316419

>>316433

The problem isn't so much the illusion, than the fact that we walked straight into a trap because of it. I also doubt that whoever set this up is anywhere near dumb enough to be close enough at hand to let us kick their ass.

Anyway, going to recommend we make a break for freedom. Standing around in the middle of a giant trap sounds like a bad time, especially since one of the high points of being a necromancer is the ability overrun people with wave after wave of minions. They can do some scary things with enough time to prepare, and they're clearly had that time here. We need to GTFO.

Rolled 32 (1d100)

>>316433

>>316435

I'm just throwing in my dice for a better roll.

Clearly, you’ve overstayed your welcome. That being the case, it's time to haul ass. You’ve got to make the distance, the carriage is going to be your best bet for getting out fast.

“To the carriage!, Fel, destroy undead that block the way, but conserve magic we’re not out of the woods easy on this one. Everyone, on me!”

Cammelion is the first to start a formation, holding her axestaff up she uses the blunt backing to smash a decaying zombie that had yet to come out of the ground. Its head shatters into a splatter of gore. Fel mutters eldritch words you cannot comprehend, Her rings, strange little claw decorations that are worn entirely around her fingers, glow bright green and are set ablaze. Darts of green magma blast forth and stream towards 4 skeleton that had started to form mob. They do not survive the heat, their bones crack and sizzle from the impact.

However impressive it seems, however weak the undead seem… for every one destroyed 3 more rise from the ground. This necromancer has more power that you has been led to believe. Assuming that they had a mere 2 hours-2 days, raising this many undead would kill the caster, as their body would be unable to handle the strain.

A skeleton charges from your right, but its strike is sloppy, imprecise. You’re able to break its shin with your staff and it crumples to the side as you cave its skull in using your feet. Reamon to your left is focusing on maintaining the barrier, good on him. Veronica is more than capable of defending him. You eventually reach where the horses are stabled they’re freaking out, unable to remain calm they fight their bindings on the carriage.

Cammelion steps in and grabs both horses by the neck, you can see small tendrils of flesh extend from Cammelion, piercing the horses.

“Be silent!”

They become easily docile once more. You take the reins, Cammelion is the last to board, as she was fending off a few of the undead.

“Fel, clear a line!”

“Understood.”

She casts, not without emphasising her spell with “Die!”.

A tiny ball forms, its murky, like liquid. It seems like a laughable spell until you head a small hissing noise. Then the tiny ball sends a shockwave, entirely annihilating undead in its wake. You whip the reins, sending the carriage into high gear. Everyone took a few scratches on the way there, it was not without its worries. There was real danger in being overwhelmed. The only issue is not stressing the horses. If you push them too hard, it's over.

You get clear of the immediate township, running the carriage down the cobblestone path.

Damn it, this has turned into a disaster.

Though, you expect that something like this was the intention of your masters. It would be logical to assume that the opponent might have a way to listen in, but they had to be sure. Though you doubt that they intended for this to be the consequence of the check. That being said, it is equally possible that this was not the intention.

“Anon! The sky!”

“You have got to be kidding me.”

From the town behind you, a stream of scarlet light rises into the skies, and slowly expands into a barrier, it has yet to touch land. You might make it, it's unlikely, but you might.

>Do you gun it?

>Or do you not attempt to escape the barrier?

>Take a third option?

Rolled 78 (1d100)

>>316735

Well, damn. Gun it for the barrier. If that doesn't work, we could try weakening part of it with our warlock flame and/or help from the others to create a breach to get through.

>>316740

Agreed.

(Also pointing out that I'm still reading even though I've got nothing to add)

>>316735

“Hol’ on tight I’m going for it!”

You can feel the group holding their breath. Your hands are uncharacteristically shaky, damn it. Why can’t things just go as planned!? Simple job your ass.

You bring your magic forth, it trickles like molten flame beneath the skin. You hands no longer shake, focused you summon your will and make it reality. This world’s objects may be immune to your touch, but the thousands of mirrors and falsehoods that hide in the world of shadows are your domain. Magic can block magic, so therefore…

You cast “Black Moulding”. Using the shadowed area near the edge of the barrier you summon a castle gate. It quickly rises from the shadows with an ominous thrum. The massive arch smashes into this section of the barrier, you can feel it holding the massive weight. It won’t be able to hold it for long enough. So, you reinforce it by casting the spell again. It drains your stamina, your will and spirit. Every time you tap into your shadowmancy you can feel it shave a small bit of your endurance. Damn it, you might only be able to throw down one more spell without a serious problem.

“Anon, hold in there, it might hold!”

a small trickle of blood comes from your arm, a tiny cut.

You’ll make it! You bought enough time!

The barrier descending from the heavens briefly glows red, and you can head the sound of cracking stone, damn it, they’re reinforcing the barrier! Leaving you no choice. Invoking the magic, you create another archway spanning above the first, securing its structural integrity. Sparks fly from the barrier as your created archway is only slowing it down rather than stopping it. You feel the burn, you're out of juice, casting any more may compromise your body.

The carriage makes it through just in time, the archway finally cracks and breaks into thousands of bits. It fades into shadow, just as it was before.

Fel, at least you think it’s Fel in your current state, yells into the oncoming wind, likely at you.

“That was great! Everyone, keep your heads down!”

You whip the horses again, praying to your patron that they do not falter. But then you hear it, a carriage behind you. It is large, black, embroidered with gold and jewels. In its rider’s seat stands a large skeleton, nearly as tall as you. It wears a black cloak with a golden clasp, in its hands it holds a scythe as long as three men are tall. Its eyes are aglow with a fearsome black flame. The carriage is driven by two skeletal horses, each wears its own set of armour, no doubt unbothered by its bulk due to undeath.

The skeletal figure screeches, your eardrums ring and pop from the sound. Its teeth are all sharpened to points, and its howl is the eternal torment of the damned.

>Sanity damage to all who heard the howl.

“Fel, prepare something that’ll blow that fucking thing back where it belongs!”

You can hear chanting in the back of the carriage.

“This is what I have left!”

You only see a bit from the corner of your eye, but she stands holding a finger pointed towards the carriage. A beam of green light shakes the air, you can feel its heat from here. It hits a skeletal horse, tearing it asunder and a huge portion of the carriage goes down It tumbles and breaks, along with the skeletal figure. One of its arms was burn to cinders as it flails on its remaining arm still holding onto its scythe. Just before it hits the ground, it points the crescent flat of the scythe like a pole vault, using the momentum of the force it flips through the air, landing on the last skeletal horse.

Fel lies back, holding her head. She’s wheezing and hyperventilating, slowly she curls up into a little ball. Cammelion stands up, holding her axestaff. You think you’re seeing things, but her bulk shifts under her cloak, she becomes much thicker. Large patches of her hide become hairless, replaced with ceramic plates. Her horns double in size, easily. Reamon incants a spell, Veronica’s skin glows briefly and she also stands ready.

Reamon tends to Fel.

>>317095

The skeleton rides faster than your carriage, the one armed manic leaps from it’s horse as the former beast turns to ash, then it vaults from the ground after rolling. It springs through the air, doing a flip it lands on the carriage, just in front of Cammelion and Veronica. Cammelion is not one to wait for the opponent to hit first, she fiercely, and surprisingly quietly, brings a wound up swing to bear on the monster. A devastating blow, a few rib’s crack, surely it would have bisected a lesser man. However, this monster is no lesser man, and seems unhindered. Veronica panics, she swings her sword arm at the creature, her blade fails to cut its cloak.

The monster whirls its scythe above its head and attempts to behead Cammelion. The blow is well struck, the crescent blade silently slides behind Cammelion’s shoulder blade as the creature pulls back, tearing into her flesh like paper.

>What do You do.

>Anon’s magic usage has reached its limit for today. If he casts any more spells he will worsen his brawn and athletics rolls, if either stat reaches above 120, he will become unable to move.

>Be sure to consider your options. Anon’s character sheet has items and spells you may want to consider.

>Be aware than Anon is driving the Carriage, he would need to swap if he’s to leave for an extended period or enter melee combat.

Rolled 17, 16, 81, 65 = 179 (4d100)

>>317096

Also wanted to ask what happened with the hidden man CYOA, had to leave for the army about 2 months ago and have no idea how that went.

>>317103

nice job on going through all of it, feels good to have people read the story. First, spell pool has been discontinued from use. I'm using a new system I concocted that much easier for me to use/visualise. Used it for the hiddenman. Anon now has charges based upon his athletics and brawn, three spells, he has casted three and any more spells will cause him to suffer penalties to his brawn/athletics and if he goes to far be unable to move.

The horse was already disintigrated, the scythe-using skeleton man is riding on your carriage fighting Veronica and Cammelion.

>>317104

Just moved back to the Fantasty story for a thread or two. Hidden man will be resumed some time in the future. Here are some archive links for you if you want to read up to where we left off.

1:

http://archive.is/Ixdfb

2:

http://archive.is/wLc3c

Rolled 52 (1d100)

>>317106

Ah a-okay, don't want you to burn out on either of these stories, love them both.

Gotcha, thought it said mr skellington jumped onto the second horse and was following you now.

>So

>Cam might be dead/dying

>and skellington is currently just a few feet from you

>no spells

So, lets hand off the reins to Veronica since she is already panicking, and lets see if we can get in there fast enough to boot the fucker off the wagon while he is beheading Cam. Hopefully being that a skeleton has no traction, and our high strength it will be doable.

Rolled 50 (1d100)

>>317096

>>317103

>>317109

Switching with Veronica sounds good. Leading with trying to crossbow it sounds good as well. Looking at the staff, I don't see the maximum number of charges it holds. If Lone is only going to be good for one strike, use Gnarl instead, and just try to knock the thing off.

Rolled 40 (1d100)

>>317117

After firing the crossbow, let's get as close as we can to this skeleton - scythes have a massive reach, but trying to hit anything with the blade up close is nigh impossible. We have our chimera bone dagger, so let's try to jam it in its skull.

>>317096

You can feel the frigid wind on your face, chilling you to your very core. You know that the cold hand of death may very well be approaching. You’re in way over your head this time. But that doesn’t matter if you can come out on top. The time to remove the clinger on is now, you can only hope that veronica is able to take the hint and fucking move while Cammelion’s flesh has incapacitated the scythe.

“Veronica! Take the helm, I’ll knock the sucker off!”

“But I…”

“NOW!”

She moves quickly, just as you exit the seat and draw the Arbalest. You hope its power will make up for the projectile size. You mean, it is skeletal. Well, it's just an opener anyways.

You quickly fire a bolt, barely hitting the target. It cracks on the creature’s skull, removing half of its “face”. Its disembodied eyes gaze toward you, wraithful and ever full of conviction. Of course you didn’t stop moving after you fired, charging in with your staff. The creature kicks Cammelion off of the scythe, she hits the floor of the carriage bleeding.

>Next Round

Reamon panicked, yells “Don’t let the blade touch you!”

The skeleton rushes to meet you, its eyes aglow in what you could only assume to be a mockery of a sneer. However, you move to divert its attack with the staff. Reamon’s warning may have saved your life. The blade awkward in the close quarters cannot land the hit in close quarters, you push inward sliding the staff down the shaft.

“Gnarl!”

The staff crackles to life with a purple flickers at the tip. You force the staff following the curve of the scythes handles smashing the creature’s knees. It reels, seemingly taken aback as it hisses and roars.

You attempt a second strike, only for it to go wide of its head. If it could smile it would. Your staff crackles, the enchantment was expended and would need to be recasted.

You ready yourself to block its next strike.

>Next Round.

>>317449

Reamon’s spell activates.

>Acceleration:

This character may act before all other characters, unless they’re under an effect that does the same, in that case both character’s act in accordance to who has the lower Athletics target number.

“Time Acceleration!”

You suddenly feel very strange. The creature is moving so slow, so slow. A snail on the path. Reamon is slowly collapsing behind you, the whites of his eyes are clearly visible. Whatever this spell is, it's very hard on his body to use. Damn it, every one of you, except Cammelion had to whip out some serious magical muscle, its run most of you dry. You can’t even empower your spells yet, but clearly your allies can. They may have gone too far perhaps? No matter, it may have been required.

You hit the creature across the ribcage with Gnarl. Bones fly everywhere, it's hideous smile still evident on its deformed skull. You wonder if the physical attacks are doing anything?

Time returns to normal for a moment, and in that moment the creature drops its weapon then its finger bones break. It strikes you in the chest with a blade made of its own broken limb, unfeeling and immune to pain. It laughs at your suffering.

“Real funny.”

You use this opportunity to perform an overhead smash on the now unbalanced and awkwardly positioned skeleton. The staff hits the skull, shattering it, then continues down to the ribcage popping vertebrae, yet the skeleton still stands and is attempting to resist. You grab its arm stuck in between your armour and a bit in your flesh and break it, the thing starts to twitch violently.

Then like any rational person, you grab it by the remains of its ribcage and start to smash it on the side of carriage before it's to hard to hold onto and then throwing it off the side. The scythe it dropped turns to ash.

You lie back, wheezing. God fucking damn it, its finger bones are lodged in the wound aren’t they? You look back, You cough up a tiny bit of blood, That can’t be good. No one is following you now it seems.

The only people up are Veronica and You.

You open the supplies and take out the small silver container that says “Emergency Only”. Inside were potions of regeneration to only be used in a dire circumstance. This counts you think.

You pull Cammelion’s head to your waist and slowly pour it down her throat. You start to feel really dizzy. Then you quickly drink yours. You think dying may have been the better option as the finger bones are pushed out of your wound in agonizing torment. The potions will hold you together, but they only prevented the worst of it. You’re still badly wounded. Meaning, you’re not dying per say, you only feel like it.

You wheeze again as you wipe the bit of blood from your lip. The carriage is going at a more moderate pace now so the horses don’t keel over. Veronica says nothing, but continues to ride.

Fel uncurls from her ball, still shaking.

Cammelion roused from unconsciousness, calmly she rests herself against the side of the carriage.

“I failed to defeat it. I’m sorry.”

She then looks right at you.

“Are we all dead?”

“Not yet.”

“What are the orders?”

>A good question.

>If retreat is you plan, doing it quickly may cause everyone be be weaker if you’re ambushed, but may make you harder to follow. Doing it slowly means anything following you can catch up, but you will be rested.

>If continuing with the mission is your goal, it's not recommended, but you might get more valuable information.

>You may say whatever you like to the other group members. Or ask questions or opinions.

Rolled 100 (1d100)

>>317450

I don't want to go slowly, but in most real world situations, I think the horses would probably die if we pushed them through the night after that, so I guess we should ease up unless somebody has a way around that, in which case I think we should use it.

If anybody has any particular knowledge of the undead, and in particular what we just fought, it'd be great to hear about it. Use any information that gets coughed up to prepare some countermeasures can in case we get hit again. Might as well put that charisma to work and say a few words to keep morale high as well.

>>317474

Ah, Anon. Not even a switch to a d100 system can keep you from critting for long.

>>317450

Mage/Warlock Magic is control over the energies of the universe and comes from the core of the caster. It is formed from their experiences and knowledge of the world, as well as their desires and emotions.

Priestly magic draws only upon one's faith.

Different creature have differing abilities when it comes to magic. Magic originated from magical beasts, Demons, Devils, Angels and Gods. Long ago only these creatures and Elves had access to magic, all other creatures that had access to magic were great anomalies and tended to be executed by one of the aforementioned creatures.

During an old war of the gods, Daemons created the warlock. A human whose very body and soul was fused with a powerful spiritual flame, a human who could use magic like the divine did, by thought. The warlocks, unknown to their creators, then spawned descendants who could use magic as it is known today, with incantations, gestures and the weaker the bloodline the more was required.

The warlocks were occasionally used to breed more powerful Daemons, Demons and much to an angel’s dismay, angels. These creatures were imbued with the flame in the same way a warlock was, but they were further strengthened by the blood, not by just power but with the ability to harness it properly now unblocked. Even magical creatures would sometimes dilute their “pure monstrous bloodline” with that of a warlock human to create powerful children. At that time, the world underwent a sudden upheaval of magical power. There was more magic in the world than ever before. The baseline of a “strong magical beast” has risen dramatically. In the end, many creatures had a chance to use magic, depending on their bloodline.

The rule of magic are quite simple:

All magic has a price. It can strip your sanity delving into its secrets, seeing things any creature should fear in the depths of madness… or it might require a sacrifice of the flesh or wealth. It depends on the spell that the caster has engrained in their mind.

Magic requires a powerful belief in its abilities to work for a person.

Magic require the proper emotional state to use it. For example a pacifist could not use a spell such as “Slay living”.

Due to mage magic drawing upon a person's understanding of the world, healing is very difficult. There are far to many variables. Editing reality and pulling a person together again will most likely kill them instead. Biomancy however, is special in that it requires immense knowledge of biology and medicine to use with the caster killing themselves. Making it nearly the only kind of mage healing magic.

>Just something I did up to clarify magic a bit. Feel free to question.

>>317591

>to use with the caster killing themselves

That was supposed to be

>to use Without the caster killing themselves.

Rolled 27 (1d100)

>>317474

>attempt 3 to post this what the fuck

In addition to this I wanna roll to try and make the Demon horn we have into a wardstone of sorts by just shoving as much of our energy as we can into it and thinking about protection/remaining hidden from the undead army slowly coming towards us I'm just guessing on that last part

the reason I wanna start trying to stuff enchantments into the demon horn is because the boneforge is made of devil bone and said to be a great magical power vessle. Demons are more powerful than devils right? Therefore, their bones should hold power better.

>>317605

Really depends on the individual creature. the demon who gifted you the horn is very powerful, a manifestation of the night's raw brute strength.

>>317605

The problem with the ward is this:

>You feel the burn, you're out of juice, casting any more may compromise your body.

That's from ( >>317095 ).

We'll probably fuck ourself if we push any harder :(

>>317615

Well, fuck. At least it was at the top of the catalogue anyways.

Rolled 15, 69 = 84 (2d100)

>>317615

Thats true, my bad I had forgotten. I'll rescind (>>317605) and replace it with saying if we can fall asleep/meditate and see if we can call in our favor with Nel. I cannot think of much else to do in this situation. Maybe ditch the cart and try and lose them off the path horrible idea ?

>>317450

“If we push the horses, they’ll die. We might need to camp.”

Cammelion raises a hand meekly.

“I have a solution to that.”

“Go on.”

“My Biomancy can easily enhance the horses to take the strain. I think I have enough resources left. We just need to stop for a few minutes.”

“And you’re sure you won't be pushing yourself?”

“My magic requires flesh, gathered and stored inside me. It requires no essence of my soul, spirit or blood. It will not harm me.”

Fel shivers, pulling a blanket from the storage over herself.

“How the fuck are the three of you not freezing to death? It's colder than the bitch who sent these minions.”

She curls in under the blanket, still talking.

“Veronica, if you don’t mind i’m going to bring Reamon under here so he does not freeze, that fine with you?”

“I understand under these circumstances, yes. Molest him at your peril however.”

There are small chuckles to be had in the grim situation.

Fel pulls Reamon under her blanket.

“Though seriously, how are you three not cold?”

Veronica, focused on the road grimly states her reason.

“I am technically a magical object, I am not a living thing in the traditional sense. I do not hunger, thirst or tire so long as I can leech off of my host.”

Cammelion raises her hand as she steadies herself.

“I’m a minotaur. I feel a chill but my fur and enchanted cloak help, no idea how the big guy’s fine.”

“Mother was a frost giant.”

Fel cocks her head as it peek out of the blanket.

“Seriously?”

“Indeed, quite fortunate for me.”

“Wow… Frost giants are intensely xenophobic. How did that… happen if you don’t mind me asking?”

“No idea.”

“None?”

Cammelion stands up, then bats Fel on the back of the head, lightly.

“You should know better.”

“OW! Than to do…”

“Than nose around in another’s personal life.”

“No fighting please. Save it for when we aren’t in mortal danger.”

Surprisingly, they both nod.

You spot something in the distance, a specific rock with a specific marking hidden in a marking. You know that mark, it leads to a safe territory. That thieves marking is mostly for ones on the run out of a town or city, it leads to good hiding places that are able to fit even horses. Luck is on your side this day.

You tap Veronica on the shoulder.

“That spot there, I know that marking, it’ll be safe-ish.”

“What does it mean?”

“Safe Harbour.”

“Good enough for me.”

Veronica takes all of you off the trail and into the smaller country path, you see the safehold in the distance. Its an old fallen down fort obscured by some of the thickest pines you’ve ever seen. It still has an area with 4 walls, thankfully the stable. It has been supported recently, and will hold even through a rough storm.

“We will make it through this. Town is not that far away, the undead are slow and busy deconstructing and abandoning that town.”

>Morale improves slightly

Something in the storage glows brightly.

“Can you hear me?”

That… that’s Maeliqe!

You reach in and find a small bracelet with a ghostly image of Maeliqe for everyone to see.

“Anon, is everything alright? Cain detected a sudden surge of magical might in the area. What is doing on there dear?”

“We’re alive, some of us are hurt pretty bad. Oh right, I was meaning to ask. Does anyone know that that skeleton with the scythe was? The one riding the creepy carriage and the skeleton horses?”

Another image appears above the bracelet.

“Maeliqe, you know you technically weren’t supposed to do that, it was part of the test.”

Its an old man with a long wispy beard. His features are long and thin, he has somewhat of a horse face, oddly long and a little out of the norm. This is Cain, Reamon’s master from what you remember. Powerful necromancer himself.

“Can’t stop me now.”

“True. They didn't know about it so I suppose it's fine. I have no reason to tell anyone. Now Anon, by your calm demeanor I assume you’re not currently being attacked yes?”

“Correct.”

“Good. hat creature you fought was called a Minor Death. The weakest of all reapers, a menace and indiscriminate killer brought from the realm of the tortured dead. I’m surprised you’re all alive, and very pleased. Was anyone cut with the scythe?”

Cammelion raises her hand.

“Cammelion.”

“This is bad, did anyone get touched by it?”

“I got stabbed in the chest with its fingers.”

“Push the horses even if they die Anon.”

“Wait what?”

“You’ve been poisoned and cursed. You will die at the next sunset if you don’t get back here immediately.”

>>317745

Cammelion immediately works her magic on the horses. They seems to grow slightly in size.

“Let’s go.”

You all head out, now that you think about, you do feel very sluggish, and there’s a burning sensation.

Either due to very good luck, or a miracle, or some sort of intervention… the path is clear all the way back to Hunter’s Peak. For a full extra day you catch no rest and the pain is getting worse. The teachers are waiting at the gate.

You step off of the carriage and stumble as if you’re a drunk.

“I don’t feel so goo…”

You black out.

“Hey, wake up. Slowly, that’s it.”

Something very warm is gripping your left and right hand.

You open an eye, finding the other swollen shut. Khaldir and Klo are asleep on either side of the bed, sitting in chairs beside. A short Holstaur with deep red eyes that are far too large and horns bigger than her head looms over you. That would be Mel, Cammelion’s master. You get an odd feeling from her, your neck hairs stand on end, you feel stiff and afraid. Her eyes pierce through you like you’re not even there. How can something so small inspire such a reaction.

“We meet again.”

She winks.

“Cammelion told me that you stepped in to help her before she blacked out…”

“Well I…”

She places a firm finger on your mouth.

“Shhhh, I’m not done.”

You nod.

“I wanted to thank you personally. I put you back in mostly proper order, the swelling will remain for some time. But you’re bedridden for a bit okay?”

You nod.

“Also, I need to have a chat with you. Have you dealt with biomancers in the past at all?”

“N…”

She places a finger on your lips again.

“No talking, just nod or shake.”

You shake your head. You have not.

“ I just have to confirm something. You sit back, relax i’ll be doing a check up on you tomorrow.” She winks.

“To make sure you’re still all in one piece. Get some rest… and thank you for helping my little dear. By the way, these two were here all day. Maeliqe was to but she told me not to tell you.”

She quietly walks out, her huge staff clack on the floor, its decorative feathers ruffle on the laces. It felt like something nearly 8 times her size was in the room with you when she was here. It was… unnerving.

You think for a moment, you could have called out using the ring. Feir would have been able to help, maybe. But you didn't think he was needed. Though there might be something he could do now…

In the meantime, you’re bedridden.

You wonder what your plans are for the moment.

>Anon could do any number of things. Spend quality time with Khaldir,Klo and Maeliqe, visit the dreamscape, call in the favor, just sleep, think of things to ask people, make requests for things to be bought.

>Tomorrow, Mel will be telling you something important.

>Maeliqe will be visiting.

>Klo and Khaldir are affectionately sleeping right here.

>Crits tend to supercede other requests.

Rolled 98 (1d100)

>>317746

Recuperation is important. Might as well take it easy for the moment. We'll probably catch hell if we try to do anything that's not just lying around.

Since it looks like we need proper rest, let's skip the dreamscape, since that can wear on us. We can spend some time with the ladies, and see what Mel has to talk about tomorrow. I don't see any point in dealing with Feir's favor at the moment either, since I don't think there's anything too pressing.

So, I'd recommend relaxing with the girls, followed by Mel telling us that repeated use of our cursed body altering ring might have had or have future consequences, if I had to guess.

Rolled 74 (1d100)

>>317746

>>317769

I hope the ring didn't do permanent damage, I kinda like it.

Anyways, the only thing I still wanna do is figure out something to do with the demon horn we have.

>>317911

I think we should hold on to the horn for the moment.

>She tears of a horn from the top of her head and hands it to you. “This will go with you into the real world, should be good for you. That’s half. The other half will be the next time I see you, okay”?

Once we have two we can make, or have made, something linked, or matching, maybe?

>>317954

You already got the second half. Feir, her husband, gave you that ring to call in a favor with him.

>>317955

Ah, sorry. I'd thought the ring was additional thanks from Feir, unrelated to what Belkorous said.

>>317966

>>317960

>>317968

thanks BinaryBaboon

Rolled 74, 70, 57, 68, 47, 74, 51, 97, 30, 59 = 627 (10d100)

>>317955

>>317954

>>317960

so with all these spoilers, I'd still like to make something or do something with the horn. How about have the masters look at it while you're resting. Be mysterious about where you got it though.

>>318028

No. I said 1 100 sided die. Not 10. Thanks 8ch

>>317746

“Arf”

Stray lets loose a short torrent of barks before lying down at the foot of the window. He likes to keep watch, sleeping with one eye open.

The morning light creeps through the window, but you find it offers you no comfort. The shadows have always felt like the embrace of a lover since you accepted the power. It thrums with your affinity, always present to hide you away from those that would harm you.

You feel a wet sensation on your left hand, looking over, Klo lightly ran her tongue down the back of your hand.

“Morning sleepy head.”

She looks at your face and likely your squinting eyes, then in a flash she closes the curtains. The cute little Kobold’s long grey ears flop back to a resting position when she rests her head on your arm. She does not say much, just lies there. She’s not that tall, not flat chested but on the lower end, pretty face covered in small nicks and scars. Her big floofy tail wags back and forth furiously, loudly hitting the night stand in this surprisingly lavish room.

“Morning Klo. I missed you.”

“We missed you too, husband.”

Khaldir pulls some sheets to the side and slowly crawls along the bed toward you, eventually reaching your side.

“You pull into the sheets because you’re cold yes? I’m warm.”

The massively tall Jinko, Khaldir, snuggles beside you, her skin brushing against your shirtless chest.

“Khaldir, he needs rest.”

“And he will rest, I’ll hold him tig…”

Klo frowns.

“Gently, I’ll hold him gently. He will sleep comfortably warm. He was having a nightmare am I right?”

“I don’t remember much. There was a man on a throne, he felt large, imposing. Yet in reality he looked like a frail and sickly old man. We spoke, but I don’t remember about what.”

Khaldir’s smile is as soft as her embrace, she pecks you on the cheek.

“Dreams tend to be prophetic. But you will only know what it means when the time comes. Don’t dwell on it too much.”

Her soft white,black and icy blue fur easily embraces your right arm and leg as she has wrapped herself around you. She is nearly 6 inches taller than you, her ebony skin pushed forward into your form along with her soft fur. You could lose yourself in the feeling. She nuzzles your head in under her chin, rubbing against the fur that grows from her shoulders to just before the jaw and human face.

“Warm now dear?”

Is… she patting your head?

Yes, she is rubbing her paw down your head. It feels nice, safe, you’re still not quite used to being embraced like this. You could never go back to living like you did, admonishing close relations. How did Klo manage to get through to you anyway? Well she did sort of… jump you one night at camp, way back now when you were heading towards the tower. That feels like centuries ago yet it was only a month.

You sigh, relieved. Klo snuggles on the other side of you, slowly bringing up the covers with her.

“I… no, we’re glad you’re alright. I heard about how everything that could have gone wrong did. About how they knew where you were coming from and when.”

“Yes, it was made quite difficult. What worries me is that the enemy seemed to have gather just the minimal forces to force a retreat from us. They’re buying time, and they knew exactly how strong we were. They systematically forced us to use all of our spells and then sent the minor death.”

You can hear the door slowly creak open, its ancient wood quite tangible in the air. An elegant and composed voice, the kind that could only belong to upper nobility, to class, runs through your ears.

“You’re quite right, it has bothered me as well my disciple.”

Maeliqe, her curled horns apperant with a dangling crimson cloth hanging on the far tip and base of each. She looks just like when you first met her.

>>318076

“Her hair is tied into numerous extensive braids that lead down to her waist. Each braid is thinner than your pinky. The colours are raven black with streaks of red-pink occasionally, Her hair obscures her face like Shalquoir’s (Her daughter) but due to the flowing nature of braids you can make out a seductive beauty. Her clothes are undoubtedly unfit for winter weather. It’s similar to a sleeveless and legless leotard, it does not go over the shoulders and simply covers the barest amount of skin possible. Just covering the crotch and holding her unusually large breasts up. She is wearing a kind of long dangling sleeve the has a band and wraps around the forearm, they cover her hands but are a transparent purple and obscure little. In fact, all of her “clothes” are a mix of varying shades of purple, black, white and pink. There is a band of cloth for each shoulder that wraps around it and dangles a long narrow flag like cloth, semi-transparent with a symbol upon it. They reach down along the front of her body to the waistline. Her shoulders would be bare if it was not for these bands, as her centerpiece wraps around her neck and avoids the shoulders, though they are still almost entirely visible.

She wears a cloth sash around her midsection, an incredibly long red-black gown flows from the sash that gradually becomes more transparent the closer to her hooves it becomes. A large section of it is cut away, showing the whole left side of her leg in it’s entirety. It reveals the smooth black fur on her legs, the firm looking skin area around her waist and top half of her thighs. Her tail looks just like Shalquoir’s, but black with pink accents, it is clearly much larger. She wears a pair of hilariously tiny glasses, they sit on her nose. You can’t believe that anyone makes glasses that small.”

“It’s become clear that the enemy has a way to know our movements. And we can’t stop them from knowing unless we’re very careful. The attention is now split between several high activity places now, keeping track of all will be difficult.”

She holds a small note up, in small print it reads “We’re not being watched, if I put this down, we’re being watched. They can’t see this note.”

“That’s quite grim.”

Khaldir and Klo merely nod in unison, then snuggle closer.

You can tell Maeliqe would love nothing more than to jump in, her gaze looks towards the floor, to the left. She puts the sign down.

“Anon, I’m glad you’re alive. I’m not sure what I would do if you were captured or held ransom. Assuming they didn't kill you. The plan is that we wait, so far, we may have to turn this into a battle of attrition, they’re to entrenched. We will have to wait for the clergy.”

“Are we pulling out of here?”

“Maybe, we might stick in the city for a time, just to see if a counter attack or further action will commence.”

She lifts up the sign.

“This is tiring. No, we’re going to be doing things my way. We’ll assassinate this necromancer. I’ve figured out where she’s hiding thanks to your efforts Anon. We… well I have a small group of witch hunters hired and ready for this task. Anon, I want you to supervise, and to do a certain…”

She holds up the sign again.

“But before we discuss our ceremony…”

She slowly removes the top of her leotard, pulling it down showing her breasts, the nipples fully pointed at the ready.

“I thought you might require some relief.”

Klo Smirks while Khaldir’s eyes grow just a tiny bit wider.

Maeliqe holds up the sign again.

“This is a good time to teach Khaldir some new tricks. I’ll take your side, you move down to his crotch, and place his member in between your breasts.”

While they move into position, Maeliqe continues talking.

“Task that our mutual friend wants done.”

She looks at Klo, Khaldir and you specifically.

“The big one?”

“Indeed.”

“I take it i’ll know when the time comes.”

She nods.

“We will need you there, The scouting was a probe to trace her. It worked, now they think we’re unorganised, we will strike quickly as misinformation is being spread among the populace.”

She holds up the sign and then drops it.

Khaldir’s cheeks blush blue.

“Like this?”

You feel an embrace of warmth as Khaldir’s breasts hold tightly against the skin of your member. She has a patch of fur in between her breasts that rubs against the sensitive spot just beside the head.

“Hold the bottom diagonal corners of your breasts… like that. You can adjust any direction like this.. Here, i’ll show you.”

Maeliqe dislodges from your side and crawls behind the fumbling Khaldir, placing her hands on Khaldir’s massive clawed paws. She tightens the grip, snug, then starts a slow circular motion.

“That’s right, like this the skin will caress just under the tip, then the tip will force its way through. The head will pop out above your boobs cutely, see?”

>>318077

You close your eyes and lie back, you try to hold back soft moans, but it's hard.

“See, he likes it, you’re doing great for your first pazuri.”

“What is pazuri?”

“Funny eastern word for using your breasts to milk your lover.”

Klo climbs onto your chest, then leans her head past yours and nibbles your ear. She whispers

“It’s Khaldir’s turn today, I’ll be waiting to be ravaged when you have that ceremony.”

Khaldir doubles the speed, her sweaty and slick ebony breasts now slapping on your waist as she desperately tries to please you.

“There, he's twitching, now, change your grip, lower boobs, tighten harshly then pull up. Do that four times.”

You feel it, a surge of pleasure, of bliss. In that brief moment you feel as if anything is possible. Then perhaps a slight ache in your head as Klo nibbles your ear while moving back to the side. Khaldir crawls over, gently embracing you as her breasts and face have been gifted a slight coating.

“Not as much as usual Husband. You must be tired.”

Her smooth and calm face bumps against your as she forces you into a kiss.

“Just one more go, then you can sleep. I just need to… quell the urges.”

You place your hands deep into her boobs, feeling their weight, tweaking the small tips and rubbing along the areola. She is unafraid as she slides your member into her tight embrace, snugly she lets her muscled weight lie upon your frame. The toned body of hers slowly pulling you tighter and tighter as she moves ever faster, the bedsprings cause the whole mattress to shout to the world that indecent acts are happening here.

Before long, you release into her. Then, just after as if in immediate response, she quivers, happily Khaldir lies in a heap, now resting her head on your chest. That was much more tame than most of the sex you’ve had with her, she’s now sleeping even.

“Did something change?”

“No, and yes. We simply had a talk about the importance of traditions behind closed doors. And,it seems that she feels less pressured now. More laid back, a good change for the poor stressed girl.””

You lie back and slowly close your eyes.

“I don’t think I can stay… awake.”

Klo happily hugs an arm of yours, lying beside you.

“Then sleep, you need to recover.”

“Dear disciple, relax. You need to be ready when the time comes.”

You sleep, However, in your dreams something is odd.

You walk in a timeless void, black as night…

There is a large door, massive made of iron coated in chains. The handles are bone, spiked, the adornments are cut bone set to resemble some sort of large humanoid figure. The door itself is fleshy, out of place. You’re certain this is an entirely different door than the one that leads to the dreamscape.

>Do you open the door?

>>318078

Sounds like the kind of door you'd find in a necromancer's torture dungeon.

>There is a large door, massive made of iron coated in chains.

Important distinction: is this thing chained shut, or just covered in chains in general?

>>318112

An observant question. Upon inspection, it's actually not locked shut. Merely coated in the chains. In fact, it appears that the door is possible to chain shut, but it's locks have been removed and destroyed judging by the some odd metal shards you can see..

>>318112

>>318114

Well, I can only imagine anybody else calling us dumb for opening scary metaphysical doors in our head when we know there's somebody keeping tabs on us, so I'm going to recommend we don't, and tell Maeliqe about it when we know we're not being observed. {spoiler]No matter how badly I want to know what's in the mystery box.[/spoiler]

Rolled 9 (1d100)

>>318114

Let's ask our lady to investigate for us.,

>Update will be tommorow.

This Updates Pastebing Link:

https://pastebin.com/vBMfsv0X

>Not leting me post

>Here is the update.

>>318703

>mention the ring

Yeah sure why not, don't let them take it though.

>>318703

well it went through like four times

>codemonkey says he fixed the site (again)

>shit's broken not even a day later

>>318703

We're probably talking to one of the most qualified people we'll ever meet regarding what the ring is doing to us, so I'm gonna say yes, tell her.

>>318078

“I might have some idea.”

Her eyes narrow for a brief moment.

“You can tell me.”

You hold up your left hand, showing the ring. It's black, almost metal looking material does not reflect the light from the fireplace. The surface of the small black ring is coated with tiny thorns that just manage to not stab you, only prod you. The ornamentation is a skull that is similar to a human’s, but with pointed teeth and sunken eyes. As you think about the ring, you can feel it reach out to you. It never speaks, if it even can, but it doesn’t hesitate to let you know its power is always available. If one is willing to pay the price, it will make a mere human worth that of a thousand men. But how hefty would the cost of such an action be?

You feel an odd shift in the air, Mel’s eyes leer, her cute grin disappears beneath clenched teeth.

“That is… unfortunate.”

Her impediment suddenly disappears, speaking fully without any hesitation. There is a vibration when she speaks, through the air it radiates with unease and bloodlust.

“It was about time the ring found its way back into the family’s hands.”

“What?”

She frowns.

“Sorry you found the signet ring. I did like you. But it belongs only to the heir.”

Your eyes must give your intent away. You whip out your knife, hoping to get the first strike in before she morphs her body.

It was a hope.

You knife comes from under the pillow, but her horns change, growing twice their size, her right arm expands to twice her body’s size, claws nearly as long as the bed you rested on. She brings down the long death long before you even entered range.

>>319126

But the ring does not stand for it. You see it from the corner of your eye. The skull’s mouth… it opens revealing hundreds upon thousands of teeth, smaller than and human gaze could comprehend. The rings howls, its roar causes your ears to ring, and Mel’s gaze to refocus from your vitals to the ring’s angered visage. Your left arm suddenly stings. Hundreds of spikes and spines erupt from your left arm and shoulder with great force. The spikes thrust in response to Mel’s attack, penetrating her mutated arm’s flesh, stalling and spreading the force of the blow, the spines break easily, but the diversion allows you to dodge.

What manner of creature was this ring made from? Regardless it's your only way out. You won’t be able to take down a master Biomancer with a knife.

You, in a panic, raise your left arm, partially open your hand.

“Kill her!”

The ring howls once again, its bloodlust and wraith now unrestrained. It never howled before, why now?

From your palm, you feel great pain, but you withstand it. From what you can gather in the moment where your vision starts to blur from tears, your wrist bones grew outward, forming a blade. Mel tries to defend, forming a shield of bone with her other arm.

However, you expected that. Your second part of the command, unvocalized, was “From behind”.

Mel’s peeking eye focus on you, widening, her posture leans her backward, her footing now showing her uncertain of what she’s to do.

“Wait what…?”

The tendril like wrist bone blade acts as if it was going to stab her through the chest, just before it hit the shield is performs a straight 90 degree turn to the side and up, heading around her body. It spirals, flecking blood then coming home to roost in the back of her skull. It goes right through hitting the floor with the cracking of wood to show for it. The pain in your arm is enough to put you on your knees, the ring seems to notice as the extended bone is broken off, then slowly retracted allowing you to move your arm again after a few seconds.

“You dead?”

Her body twitches, You invoke the ring again.

It performs the same action, however, almost as if it learnt from its previous mistake it launches a stake with a thick and fat stub, it smashes and impales her in the chest, throwing her across the room.

You feel very dizzy, you think you may have overdone it a little.

You hear a sad sigh from the other end of the room, Mel’s form, impaled through the brain and chest slowly sits up. Her one eye that shows through the brain matter strains as seemingly through force of will she pushes the long spike out of her head. Her pretty features are masked by a form of bone emanating from her Jaw in the form of a cow’s skull.

The bone shield she made is broken off by her own hand as she tugs out the stake. Bone splints from her ribcage, covering the wound.

“That was unexpected and we no longer need to fight.”

Her voice is deathly grim, all cheeriness lost.

“What are you on about?”

“I am not just known as Mel, but Melr’thram. I am one of the few surviving members of the Forlorn family’s Servant house, house Threll.”

That name, that’s an older tongue to be sure. The name itself could feasibly match that era’s language. You think it means something like “Keeper”.

“Okay, why did you attack me?”

“I thought that ring was simply using you as a ferry to return to me for safekeeping. It has a way about it, always returning to the Forlorn family, no matter where we are. Killing you was the only way to get it from you, as it has bonded to your finger and cannot be removed. It was logical.”

“Still confused here, don’t make me repeat myself.”

She sighs and morphs her arm back to normal. She sits on a surprisingly intact chair, now naked.

“The ring, despite what it says, can only be used by an heir of the Forlorn family. The script on it if you saw, is a lie. If you’re not an heir it is as likely to kill you as help you. And if used against a Forlorn family member, such as myself, it would behead you.”

“Wait…”

“I made a grievous error. I humbly apologise.”

She bows deeply, in a manner one would only give royalty.

“I was unaware that you were an Heir, the ring protecting you of its own will is proof. I am at your service, Lord Forlorn.”

“How are you going to explain this? Everyone must have heard the ring?”

A tendril shoots from mel’s back, stabbing the wall, slowly it pulls back a talisman, painted to look like the wall.

“Silencers, no one heard a thing.”

She places it back.

“You still tried to kill me.”

“I apologise, what must I do to earn your forgiveness. I am as your disposal.”

>What do you do?

>Anon is quite befuddled.

>Anon has quite a few questions… but wonders what one's best to ask..

>>319127

Is the ring a demon who made it and why was it made? and are you sure I'm the heir? is there no other way the ring would tolerate someone Else's ownership

And if you wish to apologize I am afflicted with (forgot the name of the curse the dragon gave us) and I would like to know anything that could help me kill the dragon that did this to me

>>319127

Gonna want the story on house Forlorn, her relation to it, and what exactly this ring really is, for a start.

>>319126

>>319178

Let's hear out what she has to say first like >>319160 said, and then make a calculated decision about both her and the ring.

>>319127

“Let’s start with a few questions. What is the current state of the family?”

She looks disheartened, her eyes shift side to side, there’s a distinct feeling of shame.

“The servant houses are spread out, as far as I’m aware, only House Threll has managed to keep its cohesion. House Tyrannus has entirely disappeared, either into hiding or they were wiped out. House Tresh was disloyal and appears to have kept a semblance of cohesion but no longer follow the family’s will.

“Tell me the big story on the Forlorn family.”

“Of course sir.”

Mel… or rather Melr’thram sits straight, her posture tenses.

“Your ancestor, the original lord Forlorn, commanded the largest and most powerful empire the world will ever know. In the age where humanity had little allies and were struggling to survive on Zals, your Ancestor tore the enemies of humanity tooth and nail to secure our safety.”

“Our, you’re human?”

“I was, once.”

“And now you’re…”

As you say that, her eyes roll out of her head. She holds them in her hands, tinking them with her pointed bone claws.

“I am more monster than woman now Anon. I gave up my original form long ago, understanding the true power of the Forlorn family art, Fleshmongery.”

“And here I was about to compliment your eyes.”

Her empty and black eye sockets stare through you, she smiles a little too wide.

“It would be similar to complimenting my dress, they were expensive.”

She drops each glass eye back into the sockets.

“Then the cute form is merely to disarm people.”

“Correct, something you likely understand well.”

“Of course, treachery is par for the course.”

“That’s why you’ve been keeping a hand on the poisoned belt knife you keep correct? I would expect nothing less of an heir.”

“Saw right through me.”

“We’ll work on that.”

She coughs, then stretches.

“Your ancestor solidified humanity’s foothold in Zals by doing whatever was necessary, any means required, no matter what. As such, when the world had its simple pleasures, time to relax and think, the restful nature of modern society to fall back on… his allies betrayed him. The family’s empires were destroyed, but not without nearly exterminating the traitors entirely. Even now, history has been WARPED by those who follow some specific gods and traitors to the one true royal family. Now your ancestor is seen as a murderous tyrant, whose only desire was in bloodshed. Even now, the enemies of the Forlorn family still attempt to hunt us. That being said… where is your family?”

“Deceased.”

She sits there for a moment, her face frozen in time. Unable to move, unable to cry, her right eye twitches violently. Then she looks at the floor, sullen, her face struck down with grief.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save them. I failed.”

>>319420

“You didn't exactly have any idea where we were. Not your fault, it's the people who did it. Some organisation that operates in the south west, the silver sun.”

“Old enemies of our family, they have their roots in the Yullikm family, a southern royal house.”

“They hide well.”

“Like rats they do.”

“Right, so what about the ring?”

You hold up your hand, covered in a thin layer of blood.

Slowly, Mel come closer to you, she stands up moving like she’s approaching a small animal. You could not exactly stop her in your condition, even if you wanted to. So you allow it and do not attack. She places her hand on yours, you feel a small prick, an odd pressure but then you feel better, like the pain just went away.

“There, that should help you. Now then, the ring… Its origins I do not know beyond its material. It belonged to your ancestor, how it came to call the family its masters… I’m not sure. But it is loyal only to the Forlorn family, carved from the bones of an Archdevil its power is nearly incontestable. Its only limitation being your mortal frame, but even then, if you were willing to sacrifice your very soul to it… nothing of the mortal world could oppose you.”

“Helpful, will it try to possess me or…”

“No, it is similar to Fleshmongery. It will enhance your senses, instincts… your id so to speak. But ample self control is all that’s required. In the end, the ring will always answer to you and you alone.”

“So if someone else were to use it…”

“Likely, it would change their body to such a degree that they would die mere seconds after its use. The ring cannot strike one who is an heir to the family.”

“I see, this is a great deal to take in, you understand how preposterous this may seem?”

“I do, but in a way, you know it to be true. Because if it was not, then I would be wasting my time. What reason would I have to deceive you in this way?”

“Point…”

She helps you up by the shoulder and you both walk towards the destroyed bed.You sit down on the broken bed as Mel takes her time making sure your injuries are healing quickly. She’s quite cute up close, young looking, pretty features… no, no you’re taken. No fornicating with the centuries old flesh monster.

Her hands lie on your back, it's a soothing sensation. Your body is being massaged by her, The soft hands are more than enough to bring you bliss. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see small gremlin-like creatures emitting from one of Mel’s staff’s feathers, they run around, quickly repairing the room. They put furniture back together, even repair the bed as it was before you had that skirmish.

“You’re suffering from brain damage.”

“What?”

“I do not mean that in an offensive way, sir, you’re afflicted with something.”

“Dragon sickness, I’ve been cursed or afflicted by a dragon, whatever you want to call it. I’ll slowly go mad, day by day, until either I off myself or try to fight the dragon… Say, you want my forgiveness…”

Her voice is a calm as the winter snow.

“What if I told you there is a way to remove the sickness… without fighting the dragon?”

>What do you do?

>Any other questions after this?

>Maeliqe will be sending you in a supervisory role with a group of people under her command to assassinate the Necromancer. They’re located in an ancient mine some 4.5 days away, do you have any plans?

Rolled 57 (1d100)

>>319421

Well, the obvious follow up is for her to explain what she's talking about, preferably in great detail. Also ask her how she lived through being brained. That one's usually a winner. If stabbing a hole through her head isn't enough to kill her, I'm pretty happy she's on our side, or at least not straight up against us.

That being said: social roll to see if we can get a read on if she's being genuine or not. Never hurts to be sure.

She should also treat us normally in public at least, once this meeting is over for the time being.

That all being said, I can't think of any plans to save my soul. Who's in the group though? Is it just the same people we were already with?

>>319452

From what you're aware of, a group of people with abilities relating to stealth. Generally people that Anon is used to working with.

Rolled 53 (1d100)

>>319421

I'd like to see if we can get our hands on some basic adventuring gear, like rope/chain, lightsource, maybe some mild explosives.

>>319421

Feign interest.

>>319421

Update will be tommorow.

>>319842

“Go on.”

She smirks.

“It’s quite simple really.”

“Sure.”

“The curse is partially a compulsion etched into your brain by old magic, the great change 100 years ago seems to have… altered it.”

“I swear by the ladies if you’re talking about…”

She pulls out a wrap of bandages, unraveling them she soothingly layers a salve onto them.

“That is one option.”

She lifts one of your arms and removes the bandages that were already there.

“However, removing the curse is not as specific as many would let you believe. All one has to do… is let loose their feelings against the dragon who marked them in some way. Either exacting feelings of revenge, inJUSTICE, wrath, hatred… or desire in some rare cases.”

“Right…”

“However, there is a specific way that should work for you. You enjoy gold, the thrill of… taking things that may or may not belong to you?”

“Don’t equate me to some random trash, I only value that which is fiercely protected. Taking any random thing is a waste of my abilities and not only is such an insinuation insulting, it is also unbecoming.”

“In that case, you have developed in a better way than I could have hoped for. What i’m alluding to is… all you need to do is steal something valuable from the dragon. You don’t need to confront it, or fight it. Just skulk into its lair and steal anything you want. I bet if you really wanted to some other dragon may want such fine gifts if you want to enjoy the pleasures of their flesh.”

You frown.

“I’m married.”

“I’m aware.”

“I’m quite loyal… or I try to be.”

“Your mark says differently.”

“That’s diff… how can you see that?”

“I don’t rely on sight using light. My sight is blind.”

You let her roll up your bandages as she makes sure they’re taught.

“Huh, on another note… How did you survive being brained? In my experience that’s usually a winner.”

“Well, you assume that you were able to destroy my brain faster than I could generate a third one.”

“Third?”

“I always have more than one of any given vital organ ready. In addition, killing my brain will only take away my logic and reasoning and spur me into a killing frenzy, against all but those I am very accustomed too!”

Why is she so cheerful when she says that? This seems like a dangerous person to be around.

“You’re like a lich… maybe?”

“Nope, I’m very much alive. I’m not reanimated, or held together by magic. I’m a fully functioning organism in my own right even without any real magic in use. It's just… the excessive use of Fleshmongery over the course of many years… will slowly morph you until you don’t remember what you once looked like…”

>>319909

Her eyes remain downcast, she leans forward into you.

“I’m happy.”

“Why?”

“I have begun step one of my sacred duty, bestowed upon me by the Lord Forlorn.”

“Say, Does Maeliqe know about you?”

“Yes, but the question is Anon… does she know about you?”

You breathe deeply. She smiles.

“I put the bits together, she wanted those specially made potions to have a baby. You’re a strong…”

Mel’s clawed finger runs down your chest.

“Able bodied…”

It rides up your chest and neck…

“Well toned, clever…”

Then boops you on the nose.

“Human male.”

She pulls her body back from yours.

“A powerful noble house who has never opposed the Forlorn family. Gee, how I wonder that coincidence came about… How did you two come together?”

“You pry to much Melr’thram.”

She smiles, albeit a little too wide, to the point where you no longer see teeth in the corners.

“That’s the tone I wanted to see.”

She has a point with the curse. That would be a much more reasonable method to get rid of it, not burning to death sounds nice. Getting rid of the curse is no easy matter.. From what you’ve already been old it's like a barbed claw in your mind, trying to force it out will cause some serious brain damage if you decide to go that route. Damn it… if this whole dragon nonsense… wait wait, don’t let that mark glow again. Think about something pleasant, Khaldir’s body? That works nicely.

>>319910

You sigh. She’s not lying as far as you can tell. Despite the fact she seems more monster than girl… you think she might be helpful. Though you apparently being part of a defunct royal family is unpleasant to think about. Means you already have enemies who you don’t know of.

“Why do things always end up getting complicated?”

“Such is the curse of those in the Forlorn family. You will adjust.”

“No, I have adjusted already. Irregardless, I have some planning to do…”

The door to your room bursts open, the wood cracking as it hits the wall. Khaldir stands in the doorway, her arms crossed, one eye closed she looks over at the naked Mel, then at you, then back again.

Mel’s gaze turns to you, her un-natural smile now a smug grin. Your only thought is “Oh please no”.

“You must be Khaldir. Hello.”

“Why are you naked in the same room as my husband?”

“I’m a Biomancer. Clothes makes work difficult.”

She forms small scissor like tendrils from her arms, mimics cutting and applying bandages.

“Your husband… Needed much help. He’ll recover in a few days.”

Mel stands up, from the inside of her palms you can see at least 8 small insectoid-like legs. Each leg is rolling silk being pulled from the inside of her palms.

“If you will excuse me. I will make a new dress.”

As she leaves, she looks at you, then leans toward Khaldir’s ear. She whispers something but you don’t know what.

Khaldir, after Mel leaves, Comes up to your bed, her stoic gaze focused on your face…

Then she pushes you down on the bed, purring she pins you while pulling up the covers. Her grip is like iron, her legs lock around yours as she forces you into a kiss.

“What did she sa… hmmmph.”

Eventually, she allows you the breathe. A strand of spit still lingers between your lips and hers.

“She said you ignored an advance of hers because of your loyalty to me. Maeliqe said I should reward good behavior. For you right now, that means cuddling.”

“I’m all for it.”

Unfortunately, you cannot satiate your recent urge to head pat the kitty cat, as your arms as currently bound by her paws.

Some time passes, but you’re able to get the requested items

>40ft thin chain

>60ft Rope

>Grappling hook

>Small keg of unstable arcane dust

>Small lantern

>Lost 25 Silver coins.

Maeliqe, at some point during your recovery, hands you a rough map. She states that it is of the mine. There are 3 entrances, one on the top of the mountain, one at the bottom and another somewhere in the middle. The internal corridors are like a maze, with several large chambers placed throughout. You could take some time to analyze this map and perhaps make educated guesses with the proper amount of time. You have roughly three days, enough time to figure out some things about the mine.

>Analyzing a map.

>Anon’s skills as a thief allow him to make proper assumptions about a place so long as he has a map with dimensions listed, such as the one he has currently acquired. With enough time he can figure out a multitude of things such as…

>Secret rooms.

>Likely trap locations

>Likely enemy locations

>Optimal routes

>Goal locations

>Structural weak points

>Unusually thin walls

>Among other things, but the sky's the limit. Feel free to deviate from the list

Anon has a limited amount of time, things seconded more will more likely be able to be completed being at the top of the stack.

In addition, does anyone have a plan they may want to attempt, perhaps using a tidbit of knowledge that they may acquire?

>What to be examined and what to be done?

>This will be a 2D100 roll for the examination as it uses two skills.

Rolled 56, 60 = 116 (2d100)

>>319911

a bit of a combination of a few things listed, but things like hidden pathways between rooms or something like alternate entrances/exits to the mine

also probable guard routes/optimal routes so we can sneeki breeki without getting cheeki breeki'd

>>319911

Huh and here I thought she was gonna recomend the bio-soup guess she isn't the nuisance that sent the Chimaera after you.

Rolled 31, 78 = 109 (2d100)

>>319911

>Likely trap locations

>Likely enemy locations

>Secret rooms

I can't remember if it's come up, but we should find out if a Necro's minions give out if they're killed. If they do, then killing the Necro quickly should be the our highest priority, and I'll revise my list to:

>Goal Locations

>Likely trap locations

>Likely enemy locations

If not, I think we'll have to be careful about our entrance and avoid detection as long as possible. I mean, we want that anyway, it's just more important if the mobs stay active.

I think this is the proper situation to use it in, so I'm invoking our ability "The Plan". The relevant information being the contents of this map, in regards to formulating our plan of movement to get to the Necro while best avoiding detection/traps.

We should use whatever entrance we determine to have the best chance of entering undetected.

Mel insinuated that we could dick the dragon or to stop the curse, but us having 3 grit in Irrational Hatred (Dragon Sickness) means we froth at the mouth and have to attack all dragons on sight. Puts kind of a damper on the whole cocksleeve meido plan that somebody mentioned way back when :(

>>320061

There are ways to not be affected by the irrational hatred. Doing something to remove the curse for instance will remove the irrational hatred. In addition, merely defeating the dragon would instantly remove the curse, death is not explicitly required even in the case of a fight.

Necromantic minions do not die when the caster does. Mindless ones go brain dead for about 24 hours till they start a killing frenzy, ones with a mind of their own will immediately go about their buisness when the compulsion spell wears off.

>>319911

“The map itself is of passable quality.”

You speak aloud.

You can speak without fear, Maeliqe has placed a ward that will alter what any scrying person will see. Right now, you should be sleeping, and possibly having… unclean relations with a few select women. It really depends on what time of the day it is for the obscuring magic.

The mine itself is rather strange, not mapped out like you would expect. The “Mine” spirals downward with two spirals and a few more traditional diagonal mine passages. It seems that this mine has been abandoned, then reopened and re dug with new techniques, then abandoned again. However, it's clear what the intentions of both parties was… to your trained eyes at least.

Both were attempting to get to a very specific point underground. You can see it, the tunnels all end up pointing to that exact same spot. No matter where they are, how far they were horizontally or vertically, each tunnel was attempting to get there. Nearly exact with the point of the mountain straight down in the bowels of the earth. Now that being the case, you can figure something out. It stands to reason that the helix-like shape in the mine could support a center column down the mine, it would be nearly straight vertical. However, if it's a drop tube, or a lift… you could head all the way to the bottom. It's a likely possibility, carting things down a helix shape would be wasteful.

In addition, you’re certain that there’s a way to this “Thing” that was being dug to. According to the measurements of the map, there’s a wall that may or may not lead directly towards it. From what you can guess, all the tunnels stop just short of reaching this thing. That being the case you can get a measurement of this “Bubble”. From what you can guess, it’s a dome of some kind.

If you were the necromancer in charge of this place, and wanted to keep on the down low, there would be no point in placing your minions near the surface. No, you would keep the minions near the middle and end of the mind, closer to where you don’t want people to be. You can see the possible patrol routes, in addition, if they know of the middle shaft they may be using it to slide supplies, then they may have sentries there. However, you bet that escaping their gaze would be easy in the darkness of the mine. Climbing gear, some careful footing you could easily end up near the bottom of the mine. You have a feeling that the necromancer is somewhere near this “bubble” but where exactly you don’t quite have time to pinpoint.

From your information you have a few options on how to do this.

>1) route 1 is through the center shaft, the fastest way to the bottom and harder to be detected. The only issue is getting down the chute safely and coming out the bottom will be difficult, but avoiding all central defenses may be worth it.

>2) the long routes are unlikely to be patrolled often, and you can easily locate 2 supply depots, carved out warehouses that were designed to hold stock and excavations, spare stone and rations. Chances are, the group could sneak down the long way and take a much longer time to get to the bottom but more safely. You would most likely have to rest on the way down, meaning a night in the mine. However, this is by far the safest option

>3) the Diagonal routes are fast, but WILL be defended. Getting past inattentive undead can be quite easy, they have difficulties sensing presence, and are not particularly aware. The only issue is the amount you would have to sneak past.

>It’s safe to assume that all way to enter are trapped. It's a 50-50 if the chute is though, it's quite possible that they don’t know it's there or, perhaps it's being used to transport items and therefore cannot be trapped without risking their own supplies?

>What is your plan, what do you plant to bring with you, any last minute items you want to buy for the plan?

>The Plan has been invoked and will apply to whatever obstacles you have searched for with the map (Against sentry enemies, for sneaking, for detecting secrets, for plan b routes, climbing and trekking.)

>>320277

If we have decent gear, and our crew can competently climb without falling to their deaths, 1. Otherwise, I'm going to go with 2.

Mostly, I'm guessing we're going to need rope for 1, if that's what we end up doing.

>>320323

I think the fifty/fifty thing is whether the chute is trapped, not if we fall to our deaths. It's actually noted that all entrances are likely to be trapped, but the chute might not be at all. That's one of the reasons I'm interested in using it, since it's also the fastest way.

>>320277

The day has come. You pack your staff, and most of your weapons. The necromancer is mortal… at least you think so.

You head down the corridor marked as hidden from the scrying, down into the basement. Its dungey, dark and rather unfriendly, surrounded with racks upon racks of wine. In the center of the dank basement, is a large circular table. On one end Maeliqe is sat, looking over to you.

“And so the last member arrives.”

A deep voice echoes throughout the basement. A tall and lanky man creeps from behind two large barrels of wine, his arms and legs freakishly long. You recognise this man.

“Didn’t expect to see you here Yerrow.”

“Nor I you… Anon these days right? I’m going mostly legitimate these days. More profitable working for the Requnnul family in mostly legitimate matters.”

“The same could be said for me.”

“Never thought you were the type to settle down ‘dere. You always liked to drift where it suits you.”

“Still do.”

From what you know, Yerrow is an assassin. Not only an assassin, the assassin. If you want somebody dead Yerrow and his gang are who you call up a favor on. He very rarely takes on jobs himself anymore, make you wonder what’s changed. He’s an easterner, wearing a turban with a distinct lack of metal in his gear. He likes his katars, those nasty looking punch daggers of his. Magical too they are, likely also poisoned.

The one to the right is called Silent Mik. Lady has no tongue, lost it when she bit it off to avoid divulging a client’s information. She never got it restored, even though she has the money. She’s what you would call a boxman, you want something broken into she’s the one you talk to. You’re aware that she’s undead herself, a vampire. Not someone to tangle with, but not exactly skilled at combat.

To the left is an arachne, a large one too. Big fuzzy spider body that shifts in oscillating shades matching the background as camouflage. You have zero idea who they are, they do not give any name or title when you speak with them. She wears a full body robe, covering all her features.

“She yours?”

Yerrow nods.

“Only the best for my most popular client. She’s my most prominent scaler.”

And the last member is you, Anon. A big guy with a sharp wit, charming smile and good manners. Generally you would be called the planner, and would facilitate everything not covered by a boxman, a scaler, a pocketer and an enforcer. Generally, you call shots. You’ve worked with Yerrow before, man’s fucking scary. However, you already have some level of mutual respect between you two.

“Your praise is highly valued Yerrow.”

“It’s only given when earned Anon, much like yours. With you here, we should be well prepared. What’s the plan?”

>>320538

You roll out the map, the paper sliding on the wooden table.

Yerrow is the first to show any reaction to the sheer amount of notes you’ve placed on the map. A small grin.

The robes arachne speaks, her voice nearly silent.

“This isn't going to be easy…”

“It never is, it's why we make all the silver.”

“Correct…”

“Now as you can see here, no matter what entrance we pick it won’t matter. The target’s defences are isolated closer to the center to avoid detection. Its an iron mine, can’t sense magical traps or signals through a mine worth.”

“What’s this line in the center?”

“A supply chute.”

“How do you know it's there?”

“The measurements are very specific in the helix corridors here and… here. Leading straight down, not only that but the lower room at the bottom is extraordinarily large for any common mine, almost as if it was designed as a receiving area. In addition, from some research into the matter, it was common practice as a mining technique in the old days.”

Yerrow simply nods. His tiny slitted eyes pointedly stare at the map.

“You’re nothing if not thorough.”

“My appreciation is welcome.”

“Both of these routes are… risky in their own ways. But before that, how do we get within earshot of the mountain before being spotted by scrying?”

Maeliqe rolls out a scroll for each of you, sealed with wax.

“Magic scrolls.”

Maeliqe taps her fingers on the wooden table.

“These will hide you from her gaze, they last a mere 5 hours however. I doubt she will be scrying her own mine, but I would not recommend taking too long with her patrols.”

You shrug.

“Done more difficult in less time.”

Silent Mik stretches her arms, her sunken pale eyes focus on you for just long enough to send a tremor in your spine. She mouths “Mansion.” Likely in reference to a job you once did, stealing a crown from a royal manor far to the south. You went by a different name then, and you had a very different look. Flesh sculptors are very useful if you have the coin. You’re certain Mik was working that job as a planner.

Its clear to you that Maeliqe has spared no expense in offing this necromancer. Is it really that important? No matter, she would not tell you why even if you asked. You get the feeling something is amiss.

“The plan is simple, we need to get to the necromancer and off her. Then, as Maeliqe has outlined to all of you, make away with her notes. In exchange all items of worth will be given for their fence value as of Mara’s.”

“Just… Like… Old… Times.”

“But with more undead involved.”

“I have holy water this time.”

Yerrow places several vials onto the table, each adorned with a ribbon marked with the symbol of an eastern god of death.

>Holy water makes your weapons behave as if the undead was just a normal creature when hitting them. Even the arbalest would be fully effective

>Gained Vial of Holy Water. 5 Charges, applying it makes a weapon effective for 5 rounds.

Maeliqe rolls out another scroll after an hour of you discussing the plan A and plan B with the group. The general consensus is that you will make a decision upon a quick evaluation.

Night falls, and Maeliqe makes everyone use the scroll of anti-scrying.

“I’m going to teleport all of you near the mine. It’s my maximum range, you’ll still be quite far, but you should be able to make it in less than twenty minutes.”

Everyone nods.

“Now then, be prepared, and bring me her index finger.”

Yerrow unabashedly asks

“Left or right?”

“Whatever her dominant hand is, likely left if she’s a necromancer.”

“Funny how that is.”

Then you all appear in a snowy field, you can see the mountain in the distance.

>Someone wanted to scout around the mountain first.

>What is the plan?

>The vote was dead even (1 v 1…)

Rolled 19 (1d100)

>>320539

I still think we should go with the center chute, especially since these guys are professionals and they have an arcahne, which will probably be very advantageous for that route.

>scouting

The scrolls last five hours, and it should only take 20 minutes to get to the mine, so I think using 30-40 minutes to scout would be a good investment. We should send out the two best and see what they can find in that time. I'll toss in a roll for if one of those is us.

>>320544

>19

Christ. I feel better about that plan modifier about now.

>>320614

I confused poison with venom. Again.

>>320614

>punch daggers he is putting himself at a disadvantage against any skeletons

>>320539

>Holy water makes your weapons behave as if the undead was just a normal creature when hitting them.

His weapons should be fine from what was said. It's also listed as "undead" so by that description, even ghosts would be fair game, if it's accurate.

Rolled 85 (1d100)

>>320544

Rolling to even out this one

>>320539

“We should start with a brief perimeter scout. Search for signs of occupation, people coming and going… The usual.”

Silent Mik takes a deep breath through her nose. She mouths “Living people, 15, 4 outside, rest inside.”

Yerrow nods. “Your abilities are admirable, however, I still do not trust your kind.”

Mik tilts her head to the side, showing the pale blue-grey skin under her cloak. She mouths “I am here for vengeance. I did not ask to be a monster.”

You shake your head. “Revenge had best not get in the way of the plan, we must do this methodically.”

Mik pulls a vial of red liquid from her satchel, and slowly drinks. You aren’t really bothered that much by the sight. Silent Mik is able to find a few trails, trails of people, skeletal people and skeletal beasts. Her estimation is around 80 bodies, assuming no duplicate trails or obstruction.

The arachne traveling with Yerrow speaks. Her voice hushed to below that of a whisper.

“Fighting directly was never an option to begin with, this changes little.”

The group sticks to the brush, as you start a roundabout of the small mountain outcrop the mine is in. Looking around, you can see a small cave-like indent. It was well concealed, difficult to spot. It's not quite on the mountain, but rather indented into a small hill some ways away. Without looking for it, clearly it would have been difficulty to spot.

Yerrow pulls out a spyglass, as you are all crouched in the brush. Well hidden by the garments and camouflage all of you wisely came with.

“There’s someone right there, in the little indent. Thinks he’s hidden. Looks like a camouflage spell. They’ve a crystal ball. Looks like a preliminary scryer.”

“Apprentices?”

“Seems so, or rather, followers. Mik pointed out a possible 15 people. Likely some cultists or like minded individuals.”

Mik sneers. “Small fry.”

You notice that she has a tongue again.

Yerrow rolls his eyes. “If you could restore your tongue, why not do it sooner?”

“Time of day.”

“No I meant, at a time long before this job.”

“It would fall out at dawn.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m a low blooded vampire. One of the lowest of low. My tongue was missing when I was turned, at dawn I return to to the condition I was in at my turning. My right hand falls off, as does my tongue and my right eye… in addition to my fingernails.”

“Oh.”

“I have to feed to regenerate them every day… But I don’t like to feed. So I tend to leave the tongue gone.”

“What about the smaller injuries… do you feel them every morning?”

“Superficial injuries are restored by my unnatural healing, limb loss however…”

You all simply skirt past the sentry. It's clear from Yerrow’s observations that they’re not paying attention to their surroundings, only the scrying.

The air is chill and damp, an uncomfortable slush coats much of the mountain side, partially liquid from the rock’s emitting a last glow of heat from the remains of the evening sun. The crescent moon slowly rises, its light much too weak to illuminate the darkness. Yerrow and yourself are heavily used to the dark, and can work mostly unobstructed. Mik and the arachne clearly have night vision.

In the entrance to the mine, Mik stops the group.

“Three…”

She sniffs the air.

“Men coming, cloth robes, furs, old smelling, they have metals, smells like it's been cleaned or stained. They’ll be here in a minute.”

The entrance is a wide arch, covered in wooden logs, with small crawl spaces between rock and wood. Just outside of the entrance are a few small places to hide, or alternatively climbing alongside the mountain to find another entrance is an option.

>What to do?

>Current vote is to use the chute to get deeper in the mine.

Rolled 20 (1d100)

>>320933

Hide until they pass, continue to chute. The arachne might have a bit of trouble, being bigger, but being and arachne, she has more vertically related options than us too.

>>320943

We caved a QT demonesses face in with our xbox hueg crossbow with no remorse, and killed the other one in cold blood before she even understood what happened in a Demon hunting game in their dream realm. It's implied one of them is weary of us and the other is smitten and wants to choke on our dick.

Speaking of that should we ever find ourselves with an enemy next to a bottomless pit we can always just use our crossbow to literally pick them up and throw right off the edge. Ogre blood strength, m8.

>>320933

You use thief signs to tell everyone to get into position for your plan.

>Option 2 was randomly selected. Steal their things.

Your signs state the following:

Avoid blood, leaves marks.

End them quickly.

Ambush.

Silent Mik skulks behind the wooden supports, Yerrow whips out a small truncheon going to the opposing side. The Arachne climbs to the ceiling, hiding among the stalagmites with her camouflage. You duck into a corner, where the shadows reach and use ventriloquism to throw your voice. Mimicking and adjusting the pitch to be the reverse of what it should causes people to think that the voice is coming from somewhere outside.

“A little help here? Something’s wrong with the ball.”

You mimic a young male voice, distorting it slightly so it's not quite clear what it should sound like. The sound, being mimicked to be “far away” is likely to fool the others.

An older man replies succinctly. “Rhels! I told you not to leave your post! This is the last time I assure you.”

The older man, focused on what is in front of him passes by his younger looking collages, nearly charging to the entrance of the cave… and past your group entirely.

“Where are you, little bastard?”

The second that the other two come within reach it's game over for them.

Combat Starts!

>Characters act in order of best athletics to worst.

>Silent Mik: -30

>Yerrow: 10

>Anon: 40

>Arachne: 40

>Mage 1: 50

>Mage 2: 80

>Elder Mage: 90

Silent Mik, with their superhuman speed is able to head behind one of the mages. It's like a blur but Mik Wraps her hands around the mages throat and squeezes. He is silenced, unable to vocalize his spells.

Yerrow slugs the second younger mage in the back of the head with his truncheon three times in quick succession. Skillfully, as not a single drop of blood falls as the mage does.

“Wh…”

Being prepared to strike, you know exactly where to hit. Taking aim for his temple and his throat to prevent casting. The first hit is a pointed strike to the chest, knocking the wind out of him, then with a second blow as he keels you blunt his windpipe. He drops his staff as you wildly swing, smashing his temple. Before his clearly unconscious body hits the ground you ensure that the head will not crack open on the floor, drowning it in blood.

The Arachne drops from the ceiling and draws a long thin needle from the inside of her camouflage robe. Quickly, and with deadly efficiency she slides it into the restrained mage’s temple, he twitches once then stops moving. To your notice, only the smallest trickle of blood runs from the tiny wound and the arachne places a small wad of silk over it, preventing mess.

Silent Mik looks away from the trickle of blood, downcast she drops the body. You can hear her whispering to herself “Don’t need to feed, don’t need to feed…”

“You’re not feeding on me by the way.”

Her brow furrows, as she glares hatefully at you. The look lasted only a second, and then disappears entirely.

You take a look at them all, their robes are quite similar in design, almost like a uniform. They probably have things on them as well… but carrying them or removing them may make noise.

Yerrow sheathes his truncheon.

“The chute is not that far away, we might be able to cart the bodies there.”

Mik chimes in.

“We could just place them somewhere to the side and loot them on the way out.”

>What to do with the bodies?

>Plan?

Rolled 80 (1d100)

>>321588

Well, we killed them for the robes, so take those, stash the bodies and continue heading towards the chute. Roll is for stealth if needed.

Rolled 53 (1d100)

>>321782

>2

How do you fuck that up.

>>321782

>I wonder if she's mad because we are accusing her of wanting to drink our blood, or mad because we said no to her?

I'm going to say it's because we presumptuously told her to go fly a kite on the blood drinking front, even though she didn't ask.

>Take a piece of cloth and cover their faces, now we have the perfect bodies to take back to our master, so that she might experiment and raise them.

If you're referring to Maelique, I don't think she's got any necro skills, so no use for the bodies. The most she's looked at before was a chimera body we brought back, and that was just to figure out what the hell it's deal was.

>>321588

“Take the robes, stash the bodies. I’ve got a feeling we’ll be needing the robes.”

They do as you say, the bodies hidden beyond the entrance in an awkward corner. The robes are folded up.

Mik Scoffs.

“These robes won’t hide us, too few they know each other.”

“Tell me, how do you think the undead differentiate?”

“What?”

“How do the undead tell them from any intruder? A sigil? Sign? No, best chance is that it's the robes. We may need them later, but not now. Consider it a plan b.”

The group heads to the chute, it's where you expected it to be, however it's been blocked by old boards. It's a simple matter to remove enough to slink through. The chute has a small platform before it, the remains of an old and now defunct pulley system is apparent. Mik sniffs the air.

“Nothing’s been in here for a long time.”

Mik easily starts to climb down the shaft’s rocks walls, it's nearly straight down in some places apparently. The arachne starts to pull thread, but you start with the rope to see how far it will get you. In the end it turns out that only the initial section was a steeps drop, the rest is a wind. The rocks here are smooth, almost glassy and require careful consideration of where to plant your feet. A slip here is a long tumble down, probably resulting in death.

Through the Arachne’s help, everyone is able to make it down the dingey chute. It ends just above the ceiling in a storehouse of some description. The hole in the roof is boarded up, and looking down you can see the remains of old boxes, long rotted to nothing. A few sentries, skeletons, just… standing there in the storeroom, looking towards all the entrances to the store room. From that you can affirm that this storeroom is an important one. You may have to deal with the undead somehow, but for now you need to plan.

This necromancer could be in a couple places, now that this storage room is out of the list of areas, there are three places.

1) The “Bubble” are on the map, no idea what it is but it's equidistant to all tunnels leading to it and they all point to in eventually.

2) A small storeroom to the right, it's likely a lab or library but it’s guaranteed to be trapped in your opinion.

3) A long tunnel that is a perfectly straight offshoot, you can actually barely see traces of it from here. Mik states that it appears to have been carved out recently.

>What to do?

>Sorry bout being gone for a time. Had teeth removed, kinda kills the writing mood.

Rolled 15 (1d100)

>>322683

Let's go with door number 3.

Hmm… I don't know how the skeletons sense people, so I'm not sure of our odds sneaking past them. So, a threefold approach, I guess. Try to sneak past. In case they see us or whatever, we should be wearing the robes, since that might cause them to ignore us as well. We only have three though, so I guess the smallest person is going to have to buddy up with whoever we think would work best and hide in the same robe. Not particularly glamorous, but that's life. If they still trigger after that, destroy them.

We should have everyone prep their weapons with holy water in case this goes south. That'd be four charges of one of the vials.

Roll is for stealth.

Rolled 61 (1d100)

>>322689

>All those garbage rolls.

I'm curious by the way, I know our Plan modifier is in effect here, and our regular stealth is 20, would that make our stealth skill -05, or 1? I'm curious since Mik apparently has a -30 athletics. What would Khaldir's athletics be, for reference?

>>322694

Mik, being a vampire has fantastic physical ability, khaldir is in a similar boat. She would be -10.

>>322694

also yes, your stealth would be -05.

Rolled 98 (1d100)

>>322689

Even out the bad roll for this.

Rolled 98 (1d100)

>>322683

>Door number 2

Think about it, if it's trapped then it has something of worth in it. Such as their lich master's phylactery, that they're using to revive her

>>322683

“4 Skeletons, just standing around as sentries in the room. None facing the center. We should test the robes.”

Yerrow takes a peek from beside.

“Sentires, likely they have no standing orders. Probably like golems, doubt they react to anything beyond living things in their sight. Cheaply made I bet. You think the robes are ignored by their sight?”

“It’s the most likely result. Other methods would be inefficient and likely wasteful. Their destruction will probably trigger an alarm. We should sneak past, with the robes on if possible.”

You slip the robes on, then wrap rope around a jut in the rock, removing a couple boards… Slipping down the the ground floor here was simple. It's clear that security is weak, the skeletons themselves only look mindlessly at the archways leading to this room. It’s clear that they’re designed to spot people rounding a corner, rather than coming from this direction. That being the case, to your view they have a limited field of view. The dust around their feet has been disturbed, dragged. Someone moved them.

You place on a robe and do your best to stay out of its sightline. You’re able to quite easily, as is the rest of the group. Down this hall, you check and round a corner. Several doorways have been carved out of the rock, each closed with a wooden door. There are no sounds here, no breathing, no scribbles or chatter…

You signal that something’s not right.

This is clearly a dormitory area, of some sort.

Quietly, you check for traps as you walk, finding none of the sort. Mike signals that she detects no living people. However, you smell something… coppery. You send stray ahead to scout. Everyone else watches the back, but Mik watches the hallways closely. She’s on edge when stray starts moving through the hallway, her eyes clearly following a trail he leaves behind.

Her eyes lock to you almost immediately, the pupils widen.

She whispers “Are you doing that?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Stray looks through the first door, inside if a quaint room, simple, with arcane writing on the walls, wooden furniture. A desk is beside a simple oak bed, however a humanoid shape is lying face first on the desk. Stray does not register any movement, it appears to be a corpse. When he goes closer, its skin is shriveled and absent of any fluids, nearly skeletal, the mummified corpse has its mouth open as if it is in agony. Its teeth lie scattered on the desk, its fingernails on the floor.

>What do you do?

>1 Vote to check out the option 2.

Rolled 20 (1d100)

>>323081

Guess I'll vote first Door Number 2 obviously check and possibly deal with traps.

Rolled 53 (1d100)

>>323081

Finish checking the dorm rooms to be thorough, then go for door number two. I'm curious as to how we managed to smell blood even though this guy has been totally drained. It's also worth asking Mik if this is something a vampire could do, or if it would be something else. She also might be able to pin down where the smell is coming from?

>>323148

I support asking the vampire but maybe ask in such a way as to not implicate our abilities. We kind of pissed off a vampire.

Rolled 60 (1d100)

>>323203

Eh, we sort of did a bit, but that's something we're good at dealing with. Throwing a social roll at it to smooth everything over. No point ignoring one of our main strengths.

>>323081

“You smell blood?”

“None.”

“I smell something metallic. From the rooms. Hold on.”

You move forward, taking the same path stray did. The rooms are all roughly the same in terms of design. It appears that people have lived here very recently. But now all that lies in all but 4 of the rooms are corpses. Each corpse has a strange wire poking out of its mummified remains. Upon inspection, it has penetrated the body from a small entrance wound and then fucked around inside of it. The wire is the source of the metallic smell, it tinges with a slight energy. You can tell its residue energy from magic.

“Mik?”

“Yes?”

“Could a vampire drain a person like this?”

“It’s possible, but unlikely. It would take one hours of draining to get anywhere near this far.”

You hit the corpse to see if it reacts. It does not, being very, very dead. Instead it peels in half, as coppery wire springs out of it like a sick pretend confetti.

“Shit.”

Yerrow, Mik and the arachne look intently at the wire. Everyone starts to sign using thieves signs

“Magic Item?”

“Must be extracting something.”

“Life?”

“And fluids apparently, dry as a bone.”

You hold up a hand.

“Clearly we need to find out what. We head to the research area. She might be there, be on your guard.”

Mik sniffs the air. “Remember how I smelled 15 people before? I smell 1 now. Can’t tell where, it's being obstructed.”

“Mik, take point, find any traps, i’ll be the second man. We’re breaking into the research area.”

Avoiding the skeletons is simple work, towards the laboratory you go.

>Mik spots a pressure plate, it would have broken a glass bead filled with a toxic gas. Trap is avoided.

>You spot a poison arrow trap, trap is disabled.

The halls are dark here, no torches or lights along the corridor. The small tunnel ends in a wooden door, covered with a couple of runes.

Mik and you examine the door. The door is magically trapped, You don’t know what it does but something about it is clearly off.

>You could attempt to force the door, or have Mik open it using mundane means…

>Anon has a spell, “Posses object” that could take over the door and disable it. But it will use one of his spells for the day.

Rolled 6 (1d100)

>>323756

Let Mik handle it if she thinks she can figure out what it does without touching it. It's her specialty, and her skill in it is probably better than our Use Magic (30), which would also cost us one of our usages for the day. If not, use Possess Object. Rolling for Use Magic if that comes up.

Rolled 63 (1d100)

>>323822

Agree with him, even the roll out to a more favorable outcome.

>>324077

That sounds like a bad idea all around. Also, given it got thrown in last time, I'm going to explicitly vote for not pissing off the hired help.

>>323756

“Think you can handle this Mik?”

“I have a few things for magical traps. Let me just see here.”

Mik removes her bandolier, removing several small tools and a magnifying glass. She takes her time examining the frame of the door.

“If you touch this door it’ll hit you with lightning, I can see the alchemic symbols for energy here, They’re well hidden in a group of fake runes. One would assume its a novice alarm spell if they weren’t careful.”

“Can you disarm it?”

“Yes, Just a matter of negating the stored energy of the trap. Electricity is interconnected with the fire element, so… I just need this.”

She remove a small crystal, it's a deep blue, opaque and smooth like glass. She touches the frame with the crystal. The doorframe sparks and fizzles, before turning a dull grey instead of its vibrant grey white. After this, Mik eases open the door, careful to check every bit of the floor and door.

This room is what one would think of when someone mentions a “Magical Laboratory”. It has two long tables, cluttered with alembic, tubes, globes, cups and vials… in addition to books. Smaller tables have scrolls and warped metal upon them, a chalkboard is inscribed with strange writing, with the picture of an eye in its center. Another chalkboard has a map of the mines, minus the chute. Bookcases line the walls of this domed room, covered with books of all shapes and sizes, many have words printed on their spines but some of them you can’t read.

In the center of the room is a large magic circle, clearly deactivated from its lack of glow.

In the center of the circle are mummified corpses, 7 exactly, one is much smaller than the others. Things are cluttered, like it's not been organised in an age.

Yerrow squints, peering at the book titles, as does the arachne.

“Maybe we can find something about where our target has gone.”

If you remember correctly, you need her notes for your lady… wherever they may be. Or perhaps a clue on where she is now?

>Search anything? If so Where to start?

>Looking for anything in particular?

>>324458

Well, lots to look at here. Have somebody compare our map to theirs and note any inconsistencies and mark in anything they have listed.

Take a quick look at the corpses, particularly the small one. I'm curious about that. Don't touch either the corpses or the circle they're in.

>a chalkboard is inscribed with strange writing, with the picture of an eye in its center

This a a big one. Our Lady told us to look for the Ever Waking Eye, so this might have something to do with that. This is probably the most important thing, I think.

Obviously, if we can find any clues about the target's whereabouts while looking around that'd be great. I also seem to recall that there was something Maelique wanted us to look for, I couldn't find mention of it when I took a look at the older posts, so I might just be crazy.

Rolled 86 (1d100)

>>324510

rolling

>>324458

“Can anyone translate that on the chalkboard?”

The arachne, amusing, raises her hand eagerly. Yerrow looks over at her with raised, if amused, eyebrows.

“What do they say?”

“A very brief description about an old relic, whose name is apparently lost to time. Supposedly it has the power to make dreams real. However it also mentions great sacrifices needed to take it from its hold.”

Yerrow nods. The arachne looks at him then you.

“Good to know. Could you please cross reference these maps? I want to see if they were properly copied. In addition, we need to locate information about where she is and likely what she’s doing here. There’s more to this and we need to know what we’re dealing with.”

Mik unravels a scroll, casting it.

“Reveal the traps lain by my enemies.”

A raspy voice echoes throughout the room.

“One, by the gate. One by the place thrice hidden, from the middle right and left. And none by the air of all.”

“We’re free to search it seems.”

You take a closer look at the corpses, avoiding interaction with the circle or themselves. They have clearly be mummified by rapid draining, you can see bits of copper wire hanging out from them, it appears brittle. The smaller corpse is not shaped like an adult.. Its proportions are off. From what you can gather, you think it's a child. You’re not exactly a saint, you have done terrible things in the name of profit. But you draw a line in the sand at this sort of thing. Despite your brutal childhood, you find such acts as this unacceptable.

“They killed children.”

Yerrow scoffs. “No sense of ethics. Even if we did nothing, priests of Manus have no doubt caught wind of this.”

“However we accepted the job.”

“We must finish it.”

Everyone take a little look around the room, careful with books and around the tables.

However, your thiefly senses notice something immediately. A small book under the table, carefully tucked away in the smallest alcove, crafted into the farthest table leg. You open the book, to read its contents.

It's a journal of some kind. Its writing is all over the place, like someone never took the time to place text on lines properly, just writing things down whenever wherever. It describes the life of a happy mother and her children. Taking them out to play, with a loving husband. Some of the pages have small streak marks, like someone slowly dripped water along their surface time after time. The book itself is worn, old but clearly sustained somehow, likely by the small rune “Durability” on its side.

Inside of the book is a ring, it appears to be made of golden leaves, each nearly too small to see.

No-one finds anything significant, excluding Mik. Mik finds a reference to an inner sanctum lying at the bottom of this mine in a research book. She hands you the research book for safekeeping and shows you the passage. The “Bubble” you saw on the map, this must be where she’s heading.

"Mik?"

She looks at you, not quite a glare, but close."

"I'm sorry for saying the things I did. It's not your fault you are what you are. I was unnerved by the blood a little, but that does not excuse my behavior."

To your surprise, her eyes lighten.

"I understand. I hate what I am, it only makes sense for you to hate what I am too. For what it's worth I tried to not take it personally."

The Arachne found no discrepancies.

>What to do?

>Examine the lab more? Or go on to the sanctum?

>>325005

Before making a decision, could you tell us how much of the time we've used of our anti-scrying protection, and how long we estimate it take us to get to the inner sanctum? I'd like to know how much time we might have left for poking around before making a decision on moving on.

>>325009

you have used maybe an hour of the scrying protection.

>>325068

If that's all we've used, I'm good with using an hour to learn anything we can, particularly about the inner sanctum or the eye.

Rolled 79 (1d100)

>>325074

This, then we go to the sanctum.

>>325005

“We need to know more. If this sanctum is trapped, or there's something we need to know to enter… we’ll be stuck. Locate research, notes, handwritten will likely be ones were looking for. Mik, scan the walls, look for hidden cubbies and doors. I’ll see what I can learn from this book.”

The book mentions a few gates that must be unlocked. Each gate when unlocked stays unlocked. Each gate requires a different type of sacrifice. One for life, one for death, one for self and one for all. However the notes themselves do not elaborate further. Many of the books are junk, or little things like poetry.

>Due to some falling out with lady luck, the group themselves are unable to find anything. Mik thinks there’s a secret door, but it is clearly trapped and she is unable to disarm it.

There is a shaking throughout the earth, the world rumbles and tremors.

“She’s trying to get into the place now I bet.”

“One for life… maybe the draining was to open the door?”

“Let’s get going then, no time to lose.”

The tunnels are dim, the lights are no longer working. You lead the group carefully through the twisting corridor towards the sanctum.

Stone stairs descending downward into pure darkness. However, the stone itself is unnatural. It's perfectly smooth and an obsidian purple, with speckled stars that slowly move along its surface. If you enter here, you feel that you may be exiting the world of mortal men. Light does not penetrate the darkness.

>Decend?

Rolled 46, 10 = 56 (2d100)

>>325551

Welp, looks like we're up against the clock now. Time to descend. Rolling for stealth and athletics if needed.

Rolled 73 (1d100)

>>325551

Jump down. We aint no faggot, just make sure to land on hour feet like a cat girl

Rolled 57 (1d100)

>>325551

Aren't we practically one with the darkness? If we don't get any bonuses being in total pitch black darkness I will call bullshit.

Descend.

>>325551

You step inside the dark with a light hop.

It's like you’ve been ripped across time, you feel your stomach churn and yourself topple over. An expanse of featureless black, as far as the eyes can see. You stand on abyss, no visible floor yet you do not feel yourself fall. You find yourself separated from everyone else. Moving forward seems to be the only option available to you.

You can feel yourself descend slowly into the abyss Until you fall.

You then find yourself on the solid starry stone in a room. It is decorated lavishly with silken drapes, white wooden chairs adorned with gold, etched silver tables a gem encrusted chandelier… Everything here is grossly extravagant. However, it is set like a bar, but there are no patrons. Behind the bar is a long old man, wiping a table. He waves fondly at you then sets down a tankard.

There is only one door, on it is labeled “Sacrifice.”

>>326017

You move up to the old man. He is simply ancient, it's a miracle he can even move. His beard reaches the floor and his hair is disheveled. His eyes unfocused and estranged.

“Welcome to my little bar. How can I help you?”

“Why am I here?”

“No idea, you tell me.”

“I was pulled here from a mine.”

“Many are.”

You look around, seeing no text or anything special indicating instructions beyond the door writing.

“How do I pass this test?”

“That’s up to you, I am only its warden.”

>What do you do?

Rolled 41 (1d100)

>>326019

Oh great, I suck at stuff like this.

>How can I help you?

Admit that while it's not very sporting, you'd like to request he step through the door labeled "Sacrifice", since that doesn't seem like a sensible thing to be doing ourselves. Rolling for the social skill, for all that might help.

>>326019

Yeah I'm actually stumped about this.

>>326019

“Well you did ask if you could help me. I think you might be able to.”

“Oh? How can this frail old man help a strong lad like yourself?”

“It’s not very sporting…”

You place your elbows on the table, resting your head on the backs of your hands.

“But would you be willing to step through the door labeled sacrifice?”

The old man laughs, it slowly develops into a wheeze and then a cough.

“You’re the first to ask that. Why I just might. But only if you beg.”

“What?”

“That’s right. You have to bow down and beg for me to open the door.”

Beg an ancient old man to sacrifice himself so that you may pass? You would never live it down. To ask another for help, especially a cripple… It leaves you torn. You’ve hardly ever asked anyone for so much as a favor, you always paid for services or discussed terms. But you can’t think of anything else.

So you bow your head in shame.

“Please open the door for me, for I cannot on my own.”

After saying it you clench your teeth, the loss of pride cuts a little deeper than you had hoped it would.

“One more time there lad. A little deeper.”

You bite your tongue, and do so. Feeling defeated by a door and a word.

But then, the door swings open by its own volition.

The old man’s visage fades, smirking. From his form rises a large violet skinned daemon. Crown-like white horns intermingled around her head, several tails each with a crescent bladed tip larger than your hands, massive wings the refract in crimson, black and violet hues. It's black sclera and crimson gaze pierces through your soul.

Your lady? No something’s very different. She seems colder, less human if that’s possible.

“Most simply kill the old man and use his body, or the lavish items around this bar. But instead you sacrificed your own pride? Why?”

“What are you?”

“Answer my question human.”

“Easiest method to ensure it was quick when time is of the essence.”

“Pragmatism then?”

In reality, you hardly expected it to work.But a sting to your pride is nothing in comparison to the possible time wasted fooling around for some exotic but not costly solution.

“Yes.”

“My turn then. I’m a shade of the Lady of Midnight. And my duty is about to come to an end judging by how this will go. It's been boring here. No chaos, no manipulation, just staring at a wall and cleaning this room. Now go on then, man in a rush.”

You find yourself pushed by an invisible force, thrown out of the room. You stick the landing, just. You find yourself in total darkness once again, heading down the long path in the endless expanse of shadow. In the void, there is nothing, but fragments of everything, all at the same time. Its paradoxical, segments of dreams from hundreds of people all at once, nightmares, little bits of who they are all lost to this infinitely stretching yet infinitesimally small space. You can see them, yet also must ignore them to not be driven mad by the revelations of the thousands.

Just when you’re tempted to peek, just a little at the edge of the world, a sight into how it will all eventually end, and how it all really began. The final truth of the world, just a blink away, something that lies only in the mind of the first divine being.

You feel some invisible force drive your gaze away from it, forward.

In front of you lies a door, damaged, wooden and weathered. So old that the mere touch would cause it to fold. You touch this visage of the material world and watch it crumble away. A dome, mimicking the night sky perfectly lies before you. A massive stone edifice, one that could be called a miniature tower or a tabled covered in ancient text, is in the exact center of this place. It's like walking on stars, it would be the perfect place to be alone and think, were it not for the robed one in front of the tablet.

She stands looking and reading, then turns toward you. Her face covered by a mask with two horns sticking from its side. She stares through its eyeholes, unfocused, but in your general direction. You hear her cloak rustle, as she tilts her head. She steps forward , just one step in your direction, her gaze now focused in a leer. Her voice, loud and coarse, as if it has been over used echos angrily through the chamber.

“You won’t separate me. YOU WON’T SEPARATE ME!”

>what do you do?

Rolled 53 (1d100)

>>326378

>that roll

I roll for our character to brace for the worst and get ready for a show down.

Rolled 64 (1d100)

>>326363

>>326378

Oh god.

Well, for what it's worth, try to activate Thieves' Guild, and stab her with the Chimera Bone Knife.

>>326363

“That’s too bad.”

You flick out the bone dagger from its sheath, the slick motion is practiced and smooth. At the same time, you focus your spell in your mind. Two shadowy duplicates rise form the ground as you’re masked in shade. You rush, going as fast as you can possibly go. Your steps have been practiced for ages, optimal movement is a simple task for you. But then you hear a noise.

“For my death, I curse thee.”

It's the death cries of an old man, that ancient spellcaster from the front of the mine. You can see his dying eyes, staring into yours from the briefest of seconds.

“Fall.”

Your right foot suddenly leaps in pain, as you lurch but regain your footing. Clearly his death curse did not have the time he required to fully mobilize its effects. This kind of thing is the reason you ambush spellcasters.

However, this stumble cost you precious time, in the heat of battle. The sorceress raises her hand, it spills from her robe, covered in what was once likely glamourous blonde fur now disfigured and burned, and she snaps her fingers.

“The fall from heaven is steeper than the judgement of the stone below.”

A wave of force blows all sediment and dust from the floor and the crushing wave, like the tide of an angry ocean. The stumble made you an easy target.. You don’t feel much really, beyond your feet coming from under you. Vision blurs, a tinge of pain rises from your legs then nothing in particular beyond the uncomfortable sensation of falling. Your duplicate were dispersed from this attack, clearly covering a wide area. You feel like you have all the time in the world, like everything is slowing down.

But then it suddenly feels like it's moving far to fast as you hit the floor. You try to land with your legs and knees, to go into a roll. But really all you get is your arms covering your head and your knife falling the the ground. There’s some blood, you’re sure. You’re feeling it less now at this moment, you’re sure.

Your vision is blurred, but you can see the robed woman come closer, with some sort of wire that whips fourth from her sleeve. Similar to the remains of wire you found in the bodies of the cave. You don’t want to go out like this, you can’t go out like this. Not with your legs broken, unable to even stand on your own feet. But you can see the shades of the smiling face of Morgue, the lady of the Dead and Dying. She’s been waiting for the midnight’s envoy you think. A bargaining chip to be sure.

Damn it, you’re going to pass out from the pain soon, it's crawling from your thighs. But to your credit, you avoid calling out to a divine power to save you, even if it's only because of the pain.

You hear a deep throated growl, a savage snarl from your mind.

Stray, unafraid, leaps for the robed necromancer. She was unprepared, focused on the kill or her goal. His aim was deadly, fast and carried a special kind of savagery either spurred by your injuries,delusion or imagination. His teeth latch around her throat in a single movement as she’s forced to the ground. Something throws Stray clear, but she’s bleeding bad and stray lands on his feet, ready to pounce. However, instead of resuming the attack, he see’s the sorceress retreat… and stands by you, snarling with an animalistic rage burning.

You can feel the darkness creep around your vision, you can’t walk. Hell, you can’t even stand up. You eyes focus on the closes thing in your vision as it blurs, showing only a clear vision of it. The ring, the Boneforge. You can hear it call.

“I can help you.”

“I can save you.”

“It’s your blood, carve out your own destiny.”

“Don’t be afraid, you’re still human.”

“She’ll be disappointed if you fail.”

“Without me you might bleed out, or worse.”

“You need me, I need you. Just accept me and my bond.”

You are unsure of the extent of your injuries, but it feel rather severe. At least, what you can feel is quite severe.

The necromancer is quick, and touches the large stone tablet as if it were a door, she disappears through it.

Where is everyone?

Damn it… you were not prepared for this. You got cocky. You made a stupid mistake. But what do you do now? Every answer here seems wrong, and it hurts so bad. If you could, you would crawl into a little ball and just di… No you can’t give up here. You never surrender, only retreat.

>What do you do?

Rolled 34 (1d100)

>>326966

Well, we're definitely on the back foot. As much as I don't like the thing talking all of a sudden, the boneforge is our best bet to keep us from falling apart, I think. We're fucked enough that I feel bad about the odds of us living through any other options I can think of. So, rolling for the boneforge, I guess.

Rolled 49 (1d100)

>>326992

Refuse the Boneforge's offer, our companion will be our offense, defense, eyes, and ears. And stop the bleeding first then scout with our shadow doggo, then do >>327003

>>326966

You turn over onto your back and examine the damage on your leg’s more thoroughly. From the pain, and through the shredded leg armour the sight of some bone… you conclude that your legs are broken. In some parts the bone sticks through the skin. You can feel a pulsating sensation from the ring, you’re nearly certain that its dulling the pain to prevent you from passing out. It's not that you don’t want to stand, but that you can’t. You’re entirely certain that your medical skills are unequipped to handle this injury.

You reach for your knife, wondering how to go about this. Sending in stray to scout seems like a good idea. You feel the temptation to use the boneforge, to stand up again and bring the fight mostly capable. However, giving into temptation in these circumstances could be bad. You’re not sure how bad the backlash would be in this state.

“Stray, check what’s through the portal.”

The dog moves to the tablet, nudges it the dissapears. You lose contact with stray.

It seems that wherever it leads to exceeds the maximum range of your contact with him. Meaning it's likely he acting without orders… or more likely waiting on the other side for you.

It's not that far, you could try to crawl. Or you could wait for the other to attempt to come by.

You feel just a little helpless.

>Do you wait, or push through?

>If you wait, how long are you willing to wait?

Rolled 62 (1d100)

>>327453

Wait a couple minutes, and if we get nothing in that time, remember that Feir owes us a favor and call him up for support, preferably in the form of healing, so we can go fix our fuck up.

Rolled 6 (1d100)

>>327453

>Our legs are broken

We gotta find that necromancer so we can kick her right in her cooch, just of of spite for breaking our legs.

>Do you wait, or push through?

Push through you pussy

>>327477

Guess we'll be calling on that favor.

>>327483

>broken legs

sweatingjian.jpg

Rolled 25 (1d100)

>>327453

If the favor doesn't work, use the fucking ring. But only to keep our legs fixed. Prepare for an ambush and follow our familiar.

>>327453

Even a minute feels like an eternity. The pain only starts to worsen as shock wears thin. As it becomes unbearable, you think that enough is enough. Despite your skills, you’re nowhere near the “powerful” in terms of might, or magic. You can make a quick strike, then retreat with ease, fight like a cornered rat when you need to… but all in all you’re just a big fish in a small pond. Nothing solidifies that thought more than that battle, less than a second and you’re on the floor.

But, you always come out on top in the end. And this time, you aren’t just going to come out by the skin of your teeth.

It's always good to have powerful people owe you favors.

You call on the token that Feir gave you.

“Feir, I need a favor.”

And a mere snap of your fingers, and a blink of your eyes the admittedly young looking man appears beside you. His child-like features would make him as no older than 12, but his grim gaze betrays this disguise.

He breathes deeply, then a scroll appears in his hands.

“I appreciate my token not being used for something trivial. You look… not great.”

The scroll floats in the air, glowing with a dim grey as you feel a tinge of pain.

“It easier to bear if you don’t tell them it's going to hurt with these scrolls.”

You grit your teeth.

“I can… see why.”

Eventually, after a few terrible cracking sounds, you feel a bit better.

You move to stand up and stumble a bit, but manage to keep your footing.

“Anon, most people can’t stand up after these scrolls, it take a lot out of you.”

>Physical actions at +20 difficulty.

>spell casting is not affected.

“I… have a job to do.”

Feir nods. “I recognise the architecture, reminds me of areas deep in the azure dreamscape. What are you doing here?”

“The eye.”

“Wait, it's here?!”

“Seems so.”

“But how? The lady’s been looking for it forever.”

“In the end, It does not matter. I need to get it, and keep it from that necromancer.”

“You said “I”, you trying to go alone.”

“You’ve technically done your favor.”

“I’m not a danuki. Let’s get going. You here alone?”

“Small group, other assassins that were with me, we got separated at a portal.”

You start to get the hang of walking again as you head forward to the tablet. You feel your stomach lurch, as if you’re jumping across space and time.

You land beside Stray, who’s tail wags but once at your arrival. He informs you that he smells blood and ash in the area. This “Area” is a large library. Shadowy hands move and rearrange books in the shelves ad infinium, never reaching the perfect point of organised. The library stretches as high as the eye can see into the “sky”. However, there is no way to reach any upper level, not ladders nor balconies. Only this ground floor about the size of 4 houses in width and length.

“Scout.”

Stray moves ahead. The situation is worse than you had thought.

Yerrow was pulled to the side by the arachne, who’s tending to him right now, teary eyed. It's clear to you that yerrow is unconcious. He took a blow to the head, that’s now been wrapped up by silk. The arachne did not escape unscathed… she’s missing an arm. Mik is over by the side, She’s impaled to the wall, unable to move, her head drooping and eyes unfocused. Her face appears cracked like porcelain.

“Anon?”

“What happened?”

The arachne whips around lazily, her eyes unfocused. “Is he going to be all right?”

“N…”

“I don’t want my dad to die! Do you have anything! Anything?”

Her arm is twitching, her legs are shaky and her robe is torn revealing a young woman, with tanned skin and the body of a fuzzy spider.

>>327995

You take a deep breath. “Focus, open his pack, he should have a potion. It will not restore consciousness but will keep him alive.”

“I.. Okay.”

She walks unsteadily, moving oddly from side to side, one of her legs is missing, wrapped in silk and tied to her back.

To her credit, she did find a potion. It will likely save Yerrow’s life. He’s not quite the man you remember him to be, he’s changed, grown soft. He was a man who said he would never have a daughter…

“Mik.”

“H-Hello. I… I failed, I couldn’t kill her.”

“I see.”

“I’m probably going to finally die aren’t I?”

Her face cracks again, a trickle of sand breaks off.

You don't like her, but… the look of defeat at acceptance on her face bothers you on a primal level. She’s ready to die, or so you thought. She focuses on you, or rather the space behind you, it's hard to tell with her.

“I just wish that I was able to rip that bitch's throat out.”

A small trickle of sand develops from one of her eyes.

“It’s all her fault. I- just wanted to live the easy life.”

Feir looks closely and sighs.

“Blood won’t save her now. Not this level of damage. She’s too low blooded for it to help.”

She tears up. “I don’t want to die.”

Your group is here. But… they might not be helpful anymore.

On the other side of the library, you can see a trap door, a rug pulled to the side above it. It lies open.

>What do you do?

>>327996

I forgot to call mik a leech, oops. so, one vote for calling mik that I guess.

>>327996

>Mik

Well, due diligence time. It'd be unprofessional to let her die if there's anything reasonable we can do to help her, so, ask if there's anything that can. If not give her some comforting words or something.

More importantly, what can anybody tell us about powers or such that out opponent displayed? More information is better for not dying.

>>327998

I forgot to vote against it as well, so it works out. So, doing that now. I mean, it feels a bit odd to have one person wanting to insult people and go all Leeroy Jenkins, which is a pretty sharp contrast to our previous characterization overall, but this is a CYOA, so that's kind of how it goes.

>>327996

Okay whelp time to get some quick information on the necromancer from whomever and make a plan for a bonus, then cover our knives and arrows with poison (did we actually bring our crossbow with us?), get our staff ready, and also since our new friend has decided to stick around I guess we'll owe him a favor and ask for his help in this to figure out what he's got.

Time for some meta soon I hope.

>>327996

“Is there anything that can help her?”

Feir nods.

“Yep, not sure if she would like it though. But… I suppose It can’t hurt to give her the option. You want to live yes?”

Mel nods slowly.

“Then I’m going to send you to someone who can help you. Beware, everything has a price.”

Feir pulls an amulet from the inside of his shirt, it spins reflecting the pale light from the starry stones. It glows, then pulls itself out of his hands towards mel, when it touches her she’s gone, as is the amulet.

“What did you do?”

“I sent her to a mother.”

“A mother?”

“One who births and creates Daemons. Second only to the Lady herself, the daughters she created from the nightmares and dreams of man. She’ll have a fighting chance at least, and she won’t be a vampire anymore when she is turned, if she accepts the offer”

“Will she be the same person when she comes out?”

“I don’t know. It affects people differently. She’ll likely lose the ability to lie for instance, that will make it appear as if she’s changed.”

“My due diligence has been done.”

You turn to the Arachne.

“Yerrow’s daughter yes?”

She nods, dazed.

“What do you remember of the necromancer?”

She remembers a few things.

The necromancer was quite hurt, but had manage to stop the wound using some sort of potion just before they were able to attack. Mik landed a single hit, breaking a leg, however the necromancer wielded some sort of living wire that molded into spikes impaling her to the wall. Mik was drained of more vitality than she could survive, taking her out of the fight. The range of the wire is limited, unless it takes time to morph it seems.

Yerrow was next to strike, while the arachne immobilised the caster’s tongue using launched silk he struck, however the caster had a shield active, it was a low power and quickly cast but enough to block his envenomed punch-daggers. From what you can gather from her frenzied description of the events after that… it's clear she suffered some sort of concussion. There was a blast of some sort, that launched him back, he was saved by his amulet of anti-magic, now destroyed.

Feir looks towards the trap door, sneering.

“Contingency Magic. Powerful one at that.”

You sigh. “That means that she’s more vulnerable than she’s been all day, can’t rely on that to protect her.”

You sit down, pulling out your arbalest, then diligently drip tranquilizer onto your bolts and your daggers. It congeals on the blade, staying firm to it. Good for an hour, give or take. Your staff has a single charge left. To charge it more… you would need to offer some of your wellbeing to it, damage yourself a bit. But given your current state it would be a risk. A single charge can cast either Talon or Gnarl, but Lone is unavailable without 4 charges.

You look at the arachne. She’s in a very vulnerable state, unlikely she’ll be of any further use even assuming she was physically fine. But what to do with her?

Feir stares up towards your frown.

“Do you want me to take them out of here?”

“I owe you a lot already.”

“Less than you think, if you want we can square up later, family discount.”

Stray sits down right beside you, a comforting presence.

“Feir, is that trapdoor a portal to the material plane?”

“Likely one way. I can remove these two to a safe place of your choosing, or we can try to take them with us, or if we claim the eye its likely they’ll be transported out as this sectional dreamscape closes once and for all.”

The Arachne’s eyes widen as she gazes at Feir.

“P-please…”

“You’ll owe me dear, can you pay the price?”

“What.. is the price?”

“Allegiance to my Lady, I assure you, it's a good employment opportunity.”

“I-..”

>What do you do?

>Do you have an engagement plan for the necromancer. The place is likely to be a dome like construction, not that large but with plenty of places to duck and cover behind.

>Also I may as well do an "Ask me stuff" anything you want to know about Zals or places or things… if it relates ot the story I might be a little vauge, unless it and things relating to it have already passed.

>>328652

Letting them make the deal seems fine.

>>328676

Speaking of Phylactories, did we confirm if this lady had a one? Is that even a thing for liches around here?

Regardless, before we get in there, we should use Thieve's Guild to cut down on the odds of us getting nailed.

Rolled 18 (1d100)

>>328676

Well I generally agree with the assessment that we're going to need to find a weakness, but we do need to also figure out a way to deal with her magic.

>>328652

“Anon, who is this little boy?”

“A friend of mine. I called in a favor.”

“Is he… trustworthy?”

“I would say so.”

She thinks for a couple seconds, then sighs, disheartened.

“I’ll do it. Send my father and I to the inn basement back at Hunter’s Peak.”

Feir unrolls a scroll that he pulled from thin air, then they disappear. Now it's just you and him.

“I take it you’re going to visit her later?”

“Not I, but someone will. Now, It's just the matter of dealing with this spellcaster.”

“Not a lich right, no phylactery to deal with. Not sure how she’s slinging around that much high power magic so quickly, not to mention how she had a throat injury.”

A long and curved knife flings upwards, in a slow spin, from feir’s shadow. He catches it by the handle, and turns towards the trap door.

“No time to spare thinking about it, Cast your spells, I recommend your crossbow. That thing will probably tax her shield. And I’ll…”

The knife is tossed into the air, where it starts to float.

“Just stay out of range of those wires. Force her to use her magic on defense. Just eh… don’t hit me right?”

You have the arbalest loaded with a bolt coated in a high-power tranquilizer. Hopefully it is strong enough to end the fight quickly. If only you had some idea if she has some sort of weakness. Something important.

The pair of you enter the trapdoor and are transported somewhere in the real world. The dome is not that large, maybe the size of two houses, perhaps more. The dome is made of some black stone, perhaps basalt. Several pillars stand around this dome and in the center of the dome is an altar… and a short robed person with a mask over her face.

On the altar lies a purple orb, it is transparent, and has the stars of the skies inside. Even from here, you can see the constellations visible from your hometown. The necromancer’s hands slowly move towards the orb as soon as she sees both of you. Your shadow duplicates, already rising beside you before even entering the trapdoor, spread out around you.

>What do you do?

>Remember that there is a character inventory.

>anon can cast one more spell today without any penalties.

Rolled 87 (1d100)

>>329198

Use our Black Molding to bind her feet to the floor with her own shadow, and shoot her with the arbalest. Switch to the staff after that and use Talon. Only after that's done should we try to reload the arbalest, since it takes 6 actions. If she gets free/manages to move away from the fancy thing that's very probably the Eye, toss the unstable arcane powder her way and explode it. Just be careful not to pop the artifact we're after. Rolling for use magic.

>>329226

>don’t hit me right

And, uh… be careful not to accidentally explode Feir if we use the powder.

Rolled 73 (1d100)

>>329198

RKO that fucking necromancer bitch. We don't need spells, because spells are for fags, and we don't need help from our party, after all they're no here to help us they're here to watch us and tell our employer how we did everything.

Rolled 91, 18, 79, 51, 100, 40, 18, 87, 54, 75, 18 = 631 (11d100)

>>329226

I vote for doing this because the other Anon doesn't seem to have any plan whatsoever. Whenever she tries to cast a spell have shadow doggo come in and go for the throat or attack her to distract her.

>>329271

*

Yes I rolled 11 Shadow Doggo attacks deal with it.

>>329198

>Cold Blooded Premeditation.

The moment you catch sight of her, you unleash your magic. The shadows under her feet bind together like freezing water, creating a thick shell. Now bound to the floor she’s an easy target. You pull up your crossbow to aim, best to go where she’s off balance, the point where her body is widest. With a crossbow with this amount of weight behind it, so long as the shot connects the damage will be severe. A slight pull of the trigger, a swift “twack” as the bolt seems to disappear from your sight as its propelled toward the necromancer. The bolt impacts a shell of force and then penetrates, leaving “cracks” in the air around her. Then the bolt impacts her upper right shoulder, sticking in the wound. The force of the blow staggers her backwards, but her feet are stuck to the ground.

Feir goes to move in, then stops dead in his tracks. He pull back near-ish to you as you feel a tremor ride up your spine. Something starts to bubble underneath the robes and perhaps skin of the necromancer. The robes she wore become engulfed in a crimson fire, the smell of brimstone, sulfur and coal fills the air.

“You are no longer a suitable puppet. The deal, is off.”

A weak whisper, you can on hear thanks to Stray cries out “no, please, stop this.” the voice is pleading for everything it has. It sounds… broken rather than anything filled with malice or contempt.

A figure coated in flame rises above the caster. Horns longer than a human arm, the figure of a woman with goat hooves, dagger-like claws and eyes filled with hatred. Her black fur seems perpetually on fire, dripping coals of flame constantly. She floats above the ground, arms held with her palm facing up, as fire rises from them as naturally as she breathes.

You knew today was not going to be your day. But a Baphomet?

“Don’t despair Anon, she’s been forced out of her host, she’s not anywhere near as powerful as she should be.”

It laughs, the voice sound like its coming from all directions at once. She sounds like four women talking at one time, distorted but alluring.

“Two of the Midnight Lady. I was expecting one, at least. But not two. The ever waking eye is mine, and my contractor’s.”

The necromancer tries to move, but fails, she is unharmed by the flame it seems.

“Alluliel, stop, not like this! I never asked for this!”

The baphomet places a hoof on her face, pressing it to the floor.

“Silence.”

You drop the crossbow to the floor, it takes far too long to reload to be useful.

“Is that a surrender I wonder? Or are you raring to go?”

>The necromancer is now mostly tranquilized. This forced the Baphomet out.

>What to do now?

>Anon Can still cast spells. But his physical actions will be at a penalty until he is properly rested afterwards. The penalty is worse the more spells cast over his cap. Anon has currently reached his cap.

>>330100

I'd like to change the target of Thieve's Guid aka Shadow Doggo to Baphomet notice the critical 100. Beyond that I'm not sure yet.

Rolled 26 (1d100)

>>330100

>baphomet

AY PAPI

we should try to suplex the baphomet until it's dead/banished/whatever

>>330159

*

I'd settle for just the one crit success attack and ignore the other rolls or whatever.

Rolled 36, 81 = 117 (2d100)

>>330100

>>330159

>change the target of Thieve's Guid aka Shadow Doggo

Thieve's Guild and Shadow Doggo are two separate abilities.

Also: wow, a Baph. That's… kinda dangerous. So, anyway. Tell her it's unfortunately not a surrender and use Talon from the staff to get a feel for her defenses. Other than that, see if we can't toss our Hunting Knife that's also loaded up with tranquilizers into if we get an opening from Feir or Stray. The bit with the powder is probably still useful if that comes up as well. Rolling a couple attacks.

>>330172

I'll allow the critical this time. Only because the vast majority of the attacks are high rolls or successes. Just this time however.

>>330100

“Unfortunately not.”

With your staff in hand, you tap its butt on the ground, it sparks as you fiercely flourish. Energy builds up in the staff and emits as a wave of crackling energy from the clawed head. In less than a second the motion is completed and the wave flies forward towards the demon. She raises a hand to intercept the blow, a shell of ash and char rises from her fingertips. The wave of crackling force tears through the shell and hits her directly.

She is moved back a mere finger’s length as she sneers. Only the smallest scratch is visible on her skin.

In that moment, when she was distracted, you place your fingers to the edges of your mouth and whistle. The sound is nearly deafening. Stray uses the opportunity to go for the throat. You can see him, but it's quite clear that she cannot. With a crazed growl he latches his teeth into a vital spot. He grips with his teeth, jerking as if this demon was a rabbit rather than a normally stupidly powerful demon. Rather than speaking, she gurgles and screeches. A magical shell that surrounds her skin impedes stray, but does not stop what little teeth get through from causing wounds.

>Her turn

She reaches,trying to find what’s attacking her throat. She manages to get ahold of stray and is able to tug him off, she throws him across the room, he impacts a wall hard and dissolves.

>Stray has been defeated. He will reappear for you at midnight tonight.

For once in your life, the calmness fades. You can feel it burning through you, from the twitch of your right eye down to the deathgrip on your knife. They say anger clouds the mind, but right now you have never focused so hard on killing something. You’ve killed out of need,profit, malice… but never anger. It was never about feelings, always to prove a point, to make an example. But this, this is personal now.

Feir’s flying knife drives itself towards the demoness, as she had to waste precious seconds dealing with Stray, leaving her vulnerable. The knife hits home square in her chest, then expands to a sword.

“Fool, I serve the embodiment of the night’s might! To think you can oppose me, and the Lady’s chosen heir is LAUGHABLE.”

“So you say, cub.”

He moves inward at her provocation, his hands aflame with the shadowflame of the Midnight Warlocks. Reels back a blow as the flame seems to consume all light in the room, and snuffs part of her flames out.

“Begone.”

She forms a shell of ash around herself, to brunt the attack. It works, to a degree. The blast of freezing flame turns the boiling hot room ice cold, your breath now visible as mist on the air.

The baphomet emerges from her ashes cocoon covered in soot and frost, her flame extinguished.

“Enough Playing!”

A circle of flame forms around her one hand glows a scarlet and the other a light blue as the wizard under her, unaffected by Feir’s attack, glows as well.

“By Love’s steps I can walk across all lands.”

“What kind of contract did you make you stupid girl! She can use your magi…”

Feir disappears.

She points her other hand at you.

“Begone Human.”

You feel a powerful force hit you in the chest, you braced for it. But it was enough to slam you off your feet. Your vision blanks for a second, you’re… standing on your feet… you think. It's hard to tell, the world is spinning rapidly. No, you’re standing, you can feel the world tilt a bit, just you can’t feel anything else but the tilting.

>Anon is at critical health.

“Your determination is admirable. I seek such diligence form my subjects as well.”

She grinds her hoof as she slams the necromancer’s masked face against the stone floor. The mask pops off, skittering along waving sparks in obscure patterns. Her face is scarred, half burnt and now bruised.

“Say, surrender and be mine. I’ll treat you nicely, good food, an excellent woman… You’ll never be allowed to leave the home, or talk to other women but that should not be a problem right?”

>>330827

You slowly reach back to your hunting knife, its slightly better for throwing than the bone one.

“Surrendering..” talking is hard. “Is the opposite of diligent!”

The knife is whipped through the air, rather than with a spin, it somehow flies straight as an arrow towards her. You can tell she’s damaged, it might be enough. The knife embeds itself in her shoulder, driven partially off course by the barrier, but she winces in pain, and ceases to float. She stumbles, but…

Remains standing, her eyes light aflame in anger. Sulfuric fire rises as the room heats up and the thin layers of frost lining the pillars become water.

“This form is so limited… to struggle against a whelpling warlock. To resort to teleport… ohh i’m going to have some fun with you.”

She stumbles closer, her hands start to spark with magic.

You can barely move, and you feel the strain of everything. Standing is hard to do… you’re not sure if you can properly swing your weapons. Your magic is inconsistent, and might not work for you at this moment, but theres a chance it could save you.

You know you have the ability to end this immediately… you can feel it writhing on your finger.

“Use me master.”

“I exist only to transcribe your will.”

Or, you could allow your magic to run wild. To surge your power and pray that you don’t go to far.

>What to do?

>Do you take a serious risk with an attack, or using your magic regularly? If it works nothing bad will happen to you, but if it fails…

>Do you give into the ring’s power, and use it at a price? At least it won’t kill you.

>Or do you surge your magic, unleashing its fury, also at a price? You won’t use or give in to the ring, but it is the most risky.. .however the demon will be dealt with guaranteed.

Rolled 94, 37 = 131 (2d100)

>>330828

Really wish we'd spent more time getting that ring checked out after we found stuff out about it. Oh well. Gonna go with Casting Knife in the Dark. Use her own shadow again, or whatever else is handy if that's no good for some reason. Two "Use Magic" rolls, for the attacks, if I'm reading it right. I think it's our… least bad option.

We also have a surplus of sanity at the moment, so no reason not to use Method Actor to play up being wounded and having our morale broken. I'll pretty well take anything that'll help us get the drop on her at this point.

Rolled 86, 84 = 170 (2d100)

>>330858

Yes use some dirty fighting techniques and method actor to lower her guard and do it.

Rolled 6 (1d100)

>note my ID switched back

>>330873

*

I have an idea now that I'm thinking it over let's use this Anon's attempts >>330831 at discarding the ring as the distraction we need. A fairly decent ranked Succubus (our teacher) was scared upon seeing it; we can trick her into thinking it's the ring we'll be using instead of our magic. Rolling for that trick.

Rolled 19 (1d100)

Perhaps use knife in the dark twice, once to open her up and a second time to delve inside the hole and fuck shit up.. then just curbstomp her.

Rolled 89 (1d100)

>>331475

19 gah!

fucking hell do we have a bullshit token yet?

>>331476

First attack averages to 66.333 combined with all three player rolls so far, since you have to roll twice your second one would go to the second attack which would be 70 averaged out. I don't know if it's good or bad yet, the suspense is killing me.

>>331522

Will be posting thursday some time… just been busy doing a few things the last bit.

>>331535

No worries, things can get busy this time of year.

>>330827

She’s cocky, overconfident in her abilities. Clearly unused to her form in this plane, attached to an unmoving host.

You fall back, barely holding on to consciousness. Your hands bracing yourself up as best you can.

“That’s all I had.”

A tear falls down your face, you smirk at her for a moment.

“I… can’t do this anymore. It's too much. I just wanted the money dammit.”

You cough, as you nearly heave your guts out. She keeps walking forward, but her eyes are focused on you intently. The smell of brimstone tweaks your nose as you look upon her with despair.

“Please don’t kill me.”

“Oh~ you have better uses to m…”

The moment she blinked, your magic was set. Drawing upon reserves you weren’t sure you had. A silent figure, distorted, cloaked and with far to many limbs and elbows among its hundred faces appears from her shadow for less than a fraction of a second. Two of its many limbs strike, the first impales through the chest, sending embers of flesh set alight by her blood across the room. The second was through the heart, neatly taking it out of the chest. As the figure disappears, the heart disintegrates into ash on one of its eighteen clawed index fingers.

You can’t see out of one of your eyes, you pushed it very far. You body, is at its limit from that magic.

The demon stumbles, confused.

“H-How?”

“You… underestimate… ME of all people. Foolish creature.”

“Your insolence, Is… oddly charming.”

Her skin crumbles to ash, leaving her skeleton on the ground. She is banished. For a period of 100 years she will be unable to enter the mortal plane.

You rise to a crawl, moving towards the pedestal where the Ever-Waking Eye sits. An artifact of power. Its so old that not even the books say what it is capable of, or what it does. It may grant wishes, undo time, grant power beyond imagination… but is it something man was meant to touch?

Looking over, the necromancer is alive. She’s tranquilized and will not be a threat for a long time. You could kill her, no one would doubt you, no one would know that you just offed her while she could not fight back. You could take it into your own hands here, like you have many times before with things you disliked. Or, you could bring her to face judgement for her crimes.. Or mistakes, as it may be with the devil’s manipulation. But is it worth the risk? It is the right thing to do? Or does the right thing even matter really, bringing her is a hassle.

You see the demon’s skeleton, complete with horns. It must be worth a literal fortune. The amount of wealth is indescribable, even the power of just the horns alone is beyond you understanding without research. Real Baphomet Horns.

The Eye rolls off of the pedestal, as your legs ache and grind. You think you injured your legs again, perhaps not as badly, but enough to prevent walking. It rolls toward you, as you touch it, No voice speaks to you. But you know what it does, immediately you magic reacts to it, telling you what you need to do. Luck is on your side once again. The Eye grants omnipresence and omniscience to those that hold it. However, using more than even a mere fraction of its power would cause you to seizure and die. However, you can scry anything in the world, learn anything you want to know by asking a mere question, and teleport to any plane of existence and to any place you desire or have seen, even by the eye’s power.

It belongs to your mistress… but you need to use it. But maybe a few times would not hurt right?

>Where do you want to go?

>Do you kill the necromancer, leave her, or bring her in?

>Do you bring the demon skeleton as phat loot?

>Do you want to use the Eye for anything besides just going somewhere?

>>331610

Actually we should rendezvous with the gargoyle demoness crushing hard on us, then start sipping on some pina coladas. I would take the skeleton as fat loot, and I see no need to use the eye to find the books we need and find anything of interest on our own. Unless someone else thinks otherwise? I'll withhold the roll unless I need to use one for a search, and also we should head back to the survivors and I don't know take them with us (is that possible????). Any hints as to what possible benefits we coul- I propose we use it to know where the Dragon Lair is OR the fat bastard's deeds (the guy who slighted us before) either or.

>>331609

kill necromancer

take phat loot and make a kickass helmet out of the skull/horns

use the eye to bring our party members back to where they need to go, then go to our Lady's realm and relax/rest while She caters to our every whim, then head back to the hideout where Klo, Khaldir, and Maeliqe are and get snuggled by them a bunch

>>331609

Well, lots of ground to cover here.

>>Do you want to use the Eye for anything besides just going somewhere?

Pin down the location of the Dragon who nailed us with the fire, and the book we were after. Also, a dangerous one, but as a character that probably has deep seated trust issues, confirm if the Lady's feelings for us are true and that she wishes us no ill will.

I'm going to assume yes for the next bit, because if not, shit's gonna go off the rails.

>Where do you want to go?

To the Lady. Say "Hello Woogums, I've brought you a present" or something else suitably pithy and present the Eye to her. Y'know, as best we can, at least.

>Do you kill the necromancer, leave her, or bring her in?

She took the Lady's Eye, bring her with with us for summary judgement. She'll be dealt with, at any rate.

>Do you bring the demon skeleton as phat loot?

Fuck yes, considering how hard we had to fight for that thing.

Oh, if there's anybody left alive from our party, we should ask if our Lady can see to it they're returned to safety. Can't have our rep going to shit for up and leaving, and it seems like a simple request considering we're dropping the Orb of All Awesome in her lap.

Side note: I heavily believe that no object of destiny should ever have such a shape that it can roll on a grade.

>>331609

You bag the skeleton, and pull out your knife crawling towards the necromancer.

“No point waiting really. Same result either way.”

You look at her face, she has a passing resemblance to Klo. Just a little. It was hard to tell from farther away. You raise your knife and hesitate, but bring it down.

It strikes flesh,

But she’s not dead, she squirms, screams and howls, pleads for you to stop. But you stab her again in the heart this time to make it quick. You were off by a millimeter. Her face… by the gods her face, the screams and the prayers. Your eyes tear up, and you curl into a little ball for a moment, imaging her as Klo for a moment.

>Anon has developed a severe trauma.

You look at the eye closely, It’s iris’ stare into yours as it strikes to answer your question.

“Does she actually love me? You know who i’m talking about, your creator, master, whatever she is to you, I don’t care. Does the Lady really care?”

You eyes blank, you feel yourself drawn to a scene in some far off place.

Your fair Lady sits in a room obscured in darkness, only the barest silhouettes showing. She’s not alone, there’s one other with her. You recognise her, Vauriel. From her subtle curls, to her long raven black hair and her glowing white eye it's quite clear. In fact you’re almost certain it's Vauriel’s room, octagonal, with wall’s embroidered with some strange hieroglyphics impossible to diconcerne in these conditions.

“You desired to speak with me Vauriel?”

She breathes deeply, inhaling for nearly a full second.

“You have been acting strange lately mistress. And I wanted to confirm something with you.”

“Speak, dearest Vauriel.”

>>332262

The Lady’s hundreds of tails flails slowly in the air, the variety of blades and spines shocking. How many were hidden when you saw her last? Vauriel is careful of her words, nervous even.

“Is the human still to be used? You act attached, disjointed and seem to be obsessing over his needs day by day when you watch him.”

The lady pauses, remaining entirely motionless.

“When I… I first found him. He was the perfect pawn. A small boy, vulnerable, scared and alone in the world having lost everything. Much to my chagrin I was still imprisoned, so I could not convert him immediately. My influence was weak.”

“Miss…”

“Silence, you will hear this.”

Vauriel nods as The Lady continues. Her pale skin illuminates with a dim light as her white ivory horns, curled like a crown show her authority.

“I could do nothing but watch as fate took control of the most valuable pawn I had ever seen. Out of my control. I could watch other things in the world, and I did for a time, but I always went back to little Anon. I watches his pain, his suffering and before I knew it I watched only him, minute by minute.”

A single tear flows from her left eye.

“It was like watching a pet at first. I used tiny bits of power I could amass to help him, just a little. In total I had delayed my resurrection by 10 years, because of this. But I could not stop. His pain slowly became my pain, his struggles slowly became my struggles. And… one time when I felt angry at something that hurt him I went too far.”

“The incident. You…”

“The boy was going to take food he needed, so I handed a Knife to Anon and told him to kill him.”

The Lady of Midnight… starts to shake and heave.

“I ruined that boy that night. My impulse changed him, broke him. He didn't stop stabbing, he didn't stop. He just kept going and going, till the other boys face was nothing but bits of meat.”

“But you cleared the incident.””

“I tried, but the damage had been done. To much altering would make the damage worse. I made it so it looked like a long bit of glass, a single strike to the temple. However, it was too little too late. He went down hill. I stole his innocence from him, I MADE him do that.”

Vauriel embraces the Lady. Slowly pulling her into her arms.

“I destroyed him. The boy I loved, I turned him into a sociopath. He killed so many people, hurt countless more and It's my responsibility. Even when I put his bits back together, making his mind whole again he has to live with everything he did for the rest of his life. Imagine the time when You came to your senses about the great war against the humans? To a mortal, that is what he feels every time he closes his eyes. He has to make justifications as to why he’s still alive every damn day because of me!”

“And you want to fix him, take responsibility.”

“I don’t care about the plan anymore Vauriel. I just want him to be happy… with or without me.”

“I think he loves you.”

“Because he doesn’t know.”

“But he knows something is off, he’s guessing. You should tell him, apologise to him. Embrace him. Tell him that you altered events to give him people around him in the mortal world to make him happy. Tell him you hold him dear. Not just calling him snugglebuns, or anything dovey, then hope he forgives you. Because holding it like this will never allow you to forgive yourself.”

“You’re not mad about the plan?”

“I serve you no matter what your grand design is.”

“I want to give everyone a physical body still. I want them to feel love as I have. My precious darlings, my dears. But I need my eye to find the circle…”

>the rest in the next update.

>Does Anon Forgive Her?

>>332263

I'll withhold judgement until the next update, Forgive Her implies everything he's ever done was beyond his agency or that there wasn't something else going on with him like was that fullblown mind control? If not then forgiveness is on the table, that Klo trauma may be a bigger sticking point but that's more a "forgive yourself" kind of deal.

>>332263

That poor Nercro.

>Does Anon Forgive Her?

Yes, for me. I mean, she's not off the hook though. I'd say that she needs to explain what she's doing without withholding anything, and it'd be nice if she did, but I can't be mad at her for doing it since it seems like the kind of thing Anon would easily have done himself in the past, given his occupation. So I'd say the end result is that Anon would be unhappy that she deceived him, but understands and does forgive and love her.

I'm curious, did you expect anyone to pop that question? Oh, and thanks for linking that Neir track a few posts back, I hadn't heard it before, so I looked up the soundtrack, and that stuff is top tier.

>>332266

>Mind Control

I think it was just that she was using her power to help Anon, but took it too far with the murder, and ended up modifying his memories of the event to reduce the trauma to him, but it still helped push him farther along his path. At any rate, from what we just saw, she genuinely regrets her actions and truly cares for Anon.

>>332270

**I honestly expected a lot more in the way of questions, answers or possible schemes using a beacon of truth and everything there is to know in the world. However, I did not expect a "does she love me?", I'm quite pleased.

>>332263

You pause for a moment. Just sitting there in a daze. You wonder, if she had not pushed you at that moment, would you have starved? Was your life worth it, if you had to do so many terrible things to extend it? Its something you’ve asked yourself time and time again, with increasing frequency day to day. In your mind, it was simple. They’re dead, you’re not. When she fixed you… Was it that moment you discovered the wife and child of a target, frozen to death in the cold snow? You threw up in the alley, but such things never bothered you before. Your actions having consequences that did not affect you never registered before that.

You wonder, her little push, how strong was it. You remember bits of it now. You just kept going and going, far past her word. While she did push you to do it, you’ve no doubt that she did not intend to break you in the way she did. She watched from the sidelines all the time, forever unable to help the one she cared for and then when something bad happened… she overreached.

You think for a good long while.

And come to some conclusion, despite your damaged state, your thoughts are crisp and clear.

When nobody else cared. When nobody else gave a single shit about you, when you lost everything and clawed your way tooth and nail to survive in that hellhole… someone really did care for you. Enough to put themselves back to help you. She loved you, fed you, clothed you, cheered you on from the side lines when you were vulnerable. She didn't have to do these things. If she wanted to manipulate you, there are many different ways to go about it. Instead, she changed her ways, and extended a helping hand… even if it did extend a little to far and hit you in the chin.

You can feel yourself cry, but not from pain.

It's a different feeling, something… wrenching.

Like someone pulling liquid from your eyes, pulling hard and you just don’t have the energy to fight it.

“She loves me. And… I still love her despite the flaws.”

“I’ve made more mistakes than her, and when it would have been easier to wash her hands of me… she stuck by me till the end.”

“She made it so I met people who care, like Klo, Khaldir, Maeliqe and Qulan… hell even Everwinter.”

You take a deep breath.

You’re not the forgiving type.

When someone crossed you, it was time to make an example of them for others to see. Always with the violence, the manipulations. Its hard, but you think you can forgive, for the first time in your life. You feel a huge weight lifted off your shoulders, and despite your injuries feel better than you have in years. You didin’t know you felt so repressed, and angry deep inside, your wrath turned to the world and any who would oppose you… cools. It leaves behind a slight emptiness when it goes, and you know exactly how to fill the void. You should tell her how you feel, in a meaningful way. You know just the gift too.

Another first for you, is the heart in your throat, blocking any clever words.

“Eye , I need one… No two pina coladas. Tell me where the dragon lair is… and I want to go to Her. you know exactly who I mean.”

Before you’re transported, you pack your things, and take a small book, a ring and a long copper wire that radiates magic from the necromancer.

The eye, moves you through space. When you blink you end up sitting, painfully, at a familiar bar in the Azure Dreamscape. You wheeze to the bartender.

“Two Pina Coladas, Tab.”

Her eeys raise paniced at your condition.

“Do you nee…”

“Don’t spoil my moment. Drinks.”

She makes the drinks quickly, you take a quick sip and teleport using the eye again.

You drop from… decently high. You fall through the air and land on something hard. A table, judging from the sound it makes when it snaps in half from your weight. Your leg flares in pain again. Then, after the dust settles, two pina coladas gently port in from the air, landing neatly on a smaller table beside this one. All around the table are a number of unamused and surprised daemoness’. You can see Fey, Clauressa, Caelumeiand, Vauriel, and a number of others you don’t quite recognise. However, they’re not the focus in your mind right now. The Lady right in front of you is.

“I…”

You can’t help but cough.

“… Brought drinks. Also, I think you need this. I love you.”

To your surprise, she ignores the eye entirely. Instead she bounds over to you, flying through the air. She places her warm hands on the sides of your face.

“I love you too.”

You smile before passing out.

>>332519

You wake, in a small room beside a fire. On a warm bed, with a person who loves you no matter what beside you, tending to your forehead.

“You need rest snuggles.”

“Did everyone make it out okay?”

“Feir was transported to a plane of negative energy, he easily got out. Yerrow and His daughter are recovering at Maeliqe’s hiding place. Mik is slowly undergoing a metamorphosis to become a Daemon. You’re safe now, beside me, that’s what matters.”

She looks down at the floor, her eyes sullen.

“I need to tell you something. Before you ever consider risking yourself again, before you consider leaving. I love you, I have since you were the age of 8. When you were 11, I made a mistake. I was fearful of you getting hurt, I tried to push you directly, to give you advice directly. I had less control then than I did even a month ago now. It.. Hurt you, your mind. When you took the glass in your memory, and killed the one who wanted your food. I gave you a knife, and…”

“I know.”

Her eyes widen, not just in surprise, but in fear. She trembles, but does not cry.

“H-H.”

“I’ve known since I held the eye. My Lady, I Anon, he with no last name nor family, with nobody who cared about me except you, I’m willing to forgive you. You made a mistake, I’ve done so many that I’ll never pay my dues. But, you still stuck by me, even when you could have abandoned me. I love you, that won’t change even as I age. I…”

You can’t stop the wetness going down your face.

“N’ mor’ damned secrets.”

She leans onto the bed, embracing you fully. You can see the countless tails that were hovering in the air around her, now all beside you, layering you in their embrace.

“Your accent is showing…” She sniffs as she nuzzles closer.

“Damn caveman dialect.” You sniff.

“I Love You. I’ll tell you everything you want to know from now on. No secrets, no misdirections, anything. I promise, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Caelumei arrives with a silver tray, carrying several jars and a couple familiar drinks.

“Your fresh Pina Coladas my Lady.”

The Lady places her hands on yours.

“What do you want to know. I-… I want to be with you and I want to make you happy.”

She looks a Caelumei for the briefest of seconds, her eyes glow red. The gesture was simple. It said “Tell no one of my tears.”

>>332520

>>332271

Pretty Much Got It Exactly

>>332520

>Tell no one of my tears.

oh we'll tell someone alright

our daughterus with her

speaking of, we should totally have sex with her again (in the missionary position obviously), but no magic or daemon stuff or nothing, just the two of us