At the harbor of Mothdale...
Kevin tries to grab the jaws again and spread them as far apart as possible - surely they will not be able to withstand a coordinated attack that such a maneuver necessarily implies?
[Opposed Strength: Kevin vs. McStrange: 5 vs. 3+1]
He manages to open them up a little bit, and the orb isn't quite as tightly secured anymore! And Mark looks like he is about to solve the jaw menace once and for all, too!
[Mark vs. McStrange: 4+2 vs. 3-1]
The blade of the halberd strikes the joint between the dolphin's maxilla and mandible, separating both halves very decisively. The orb is safe! Hooray.
Morton, meanwhile, is only vaguely aware of the current state of the battle as he pokes the corpse of the worm - he realizes that the creature, whatever it may have been, is very definitely devoid of life. He looks over at the jaw that the two others seem to be messing with, and is about to offer advice, but the business seems to have been concluded - the jaws are separated, and the threat of the dolphin seems to have been nullified. All is well until suddenly all three hear a voice in their minds.
~we are back, and we now have power beyond imagining!~
How unfortunate!
~it appears that things have slightly deteriorated in the absence of our guidance! commencing urgent fixes!~
How ominous!
In a state of senselessness...
Sigmund, having nothing to do, attempts to go for broke and enter a trance of pure worship. He thinks of Velusius, professing his undying love toward this presumably mannish deity he has never met, and hopes that the god will accept him into the fold! The trance is coming along nicely when suddenly he hears it - the voice! The voice of Velusius!
~I have to admit, this is kind of funny how you think I like it when somebody as worthless as you grovels to me. I guess there's kind of a point there, it is pretty fun to hear somebody squeal like you do. Like you're a rat in a trap. Because that's what you are to me. A rat with its body broken by the steel frame of my world. And I look down at you inside your little demon sphere, and I just have to laugh. It's almost a shame you're not in any real danger anymore. Or are you?~
[Sigmund's will roll: 6]
Sigmund feels a violent tug at his soul, and frenziedly clings on to the inner surface of his orb. That's not good.
~What fun, what fun! Let's try that again, shall we?~
[Sigmund's will roll: 6]
The pull comes back, stronger than before, and Sigmund only manages to cling on to the surface by conveniently forgetting that he actually has nothing to cling on to surfaces with. It's these comforting mental constructs that keep one alive more than anything, really.
~Okay, last time. Let's see if I can make your stuffing come out this time, shall we?~
[Sigmund's will roll: 4]
The last pull comes strongest of all, and Sigmund only barely holds on within his housing, simultaneously paralyzed and secured by the consuming fear of death that motivates much of what he does.
~Yep, you've got that rat-spirit in you, all right. But you'd best not squeak at me again, lest I come on over to poke at you more sharply. Have fun in your trap, you hear?~ the divine voice says, fading out while another voice fades in. It is regrettably familiar.
~greetings, sigmund! you seem to be trapped in a sphere! we have magic now and we can use you as our first test subject! is this agreeable?~
In the Red Tower of Power...
Niklas reassures Helsvar that he surely will not betray her, and continues in his rather ineffective strategy. He decides it best to be more assertive, and corners a particular young man in an isolated hallway. The young man glances at Niklas questioningly.
Niklas just runs at him, tackling him to the ground and pressing his knife against the fellow's throat while straddling him.
"Tell me, good sir, would you happen to be a virgin?" he asks.
"What?" the panicked man says, staring at the blade that appears to be treacherously close to his windpipe.
"Are you a virgin?"
The fellow gulps, the blade drawing a little blood in the motion.
"Uh... I..."
"Choose your answer wisely," Niklas adds, inching his body's face a little closer to the man.
"Erm... yes," the man caves at last. "I am a virgin. You can bleed me, just please don't kill me!" he then begins to plead.
At a forming stalactite...
Darren tries to explain his mission to the ghostly, fleshy thing before him.
"Yes, I ah, need an artifact for a friend, a close one. I promised him I would get it for him."
The creature's lips make a whistling noise.
"Now isn't that something. How close a friend are we talking here?" it asks. "The real close kind, if you know what I mean?"
Somewhere at the harbor of Mothdale...
Scott growls at the idea of his longtime friends being imaginary, surely it cannot be, can it? He flies downward, screaming their names at the top of his lungs.
"Mark! Siggy! Kevin! Morton! Artiste! Anybody! Where are you?" he shouts, and suddenly becomes aware of a presence near him.
"Hey, Scott! What's with all the light here?"
"Who's that, Jeremy?" the voice asks from above.
"Yeah, who is that, Jeremy?" the Artiste echoes.
~there is only the gub!~ a familiar voice goes off in their heads. ~very nice work on the new arrival, jeremy!~
Quite the reunion, all in all.
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Topic: Life Begins At Death - Epilogue: We Live And Live Again (Read 556661 times)