With a eerie synchronicity all the heads snapped their gazes back to Tea, a simple mental message transmitted back to him.
"We accept"
He makes a cute bunny noise in response.
"I look forward to it!"Visibly reluctant, one of my heads finally hisses out a reply, "Accepted"
She seems to get the message, and restrains a moment before answering at a slightly slower pace.
"...thank you! I'm sure you won't regret it!"((Am assuming that I can bring my secretary along. What are nightmare cores?))
((Physically you can, though it's generally frowned upon to bring anyone or thing unless it's more or less a part of you. Favored weapons, animal companions, aura of replaceable floozies you're never seen without, that sort of thing. Dragging along cargo and followers for your big entrance makes you look bad below and might make you look bad above. How much that applies to your personal secretary is somewhat malleable, but taking him along would be making a fairly major statement either way.
You're not sure what nightmare cores are; presumably they're related to unpleasant dreams, but it's a common enough phrase that you can't pin down a particular meaning for it in this context.))
"Greetings, Lord Sammacle. This one is Blackrack Otorome Melsis, Hand of the Quarter Moon. You will face much conflict in your new duties, and we would offer a solution. A squad of our finest Otome-touched suppressors could easily handle any threats you might face, and we could subsidize the cost of summoning as many common soldiers as you desired. In exchange, we ask only that the weak and foolish nobles of your new city be replaced by me and my kin."
"That's a... very kind offer," says Sammacle to the Grisell, breathing heavily from his incredible rush, making sure he's got a safe grip on his club. "I'll have to think on it - I'll... I'll invite you to the city after I've... sized up the nobles, so to speak, and then we might be able to work out a deal. We shall see. It will depend on how unwilling you are to drop all of your affairs down here, I will tell you that much."
She makes a sneering hissing sound, evidently put off by your answer.
"The Hands of the Gibbous Moon are no common mercenaries, to be trifled with on a whim. You had best... consider your offer carefully, if it is to wait until you are in position.""Sammacle! Dear, dear friend. Won't you be lonely up there? Won't you be unhappy? The people will blame you for things, Sammacle. Blame you for all sorts of things. Never fear! I am Sacarsis, and I am here to help. Simply grant me noble title and rights to the city's justice, and I will ensure that everyone everywhere knows you are not to blame, SAMMACLE. Doesn't that all sound so much smoother than you had feared?"
Sammacle stares at Sacarsis for a short moment with the disapproving glare of a seasoned accounts man and then, in a single, fluid, powerful motion brings his club diagonally down on him, hopefully striking true. If he does, he would continue striking this repulsive individual, oblivious to the rest of the world, until he is reduced to a thin multicolored smear on the ground or Sammacle himself is teleported away. This would presumably send an appropriate message to the rest of the hustler's ilk about bothering people like that.
If the rat bastard bottom-feeder manages to dodge, though, Sammacle probably chases him off with the club until he is dragged back in by the portal, still trying to end him to the best of his ability.
Make my feelings known to Sacarsis in no uncertain terms. Also express that I will consider the Grisell's offer.
The oil salesman is far too surprised by your response to dodge, and sent tumbling with a loud squawk. Your further chase attempts are reasonably comical, involving him shrieking at you about oafs and suchlike while doing a mostly admirable job of dodging your wild swings.
Maelocht dragged a hand across his face at the sight of the Vile. Of all the inhabitants of Bloom to come see him... How had she survived again? A powerful patron or some infernal trickery he'd missed? If there came a third time, he would have to make sure. Cover all the possibilities. Find out all her secrets - before or after the deed.
The sight of Golgocht disgusted him, but it paled in comparison to the revolting crudeness and simplicity of her craft. That she and her abominations were allowed to walk these streets proved the lows Bloom had fallen to. Maelocht felt the hatred bubbling up and embraced it, drawing from the Word of Venom within his tongue to add to his words.
'And why would I,' he said, hissing, 'Maelocht the Blue, want anything to do with an incompetent and butcher of good flesh such as yourself, Golgocht of the Pits? You think I would stain my future city with your malignant spawn? The wretched abominations that we are all shamed to witness in our city? The greatest miracle of all is that you have not been driven into the grey wastes long ago; I suspect it is only the pity of our ever-gracious and merciful masters that allows you to stay. Begone, empty hand! Bother me no longer! Dead crow, maggot-mind, rotten beast, peddler of sickly skin! I reject you and your offer, you mother of worms!'
Letting his breath out in a long hiss, Maelocht leaned back, satisfied. There was no harm in being unpleasant. Some of his watchers would only look upon it with favor. The wretched creature should have stayed far away from him, in any case. He wondered if he could have it killed after the ritual.
Golgocht leans forward with a hideous, sneering laugh.
"You will rue refusing my gifts, fool. Nothing escapes the grip of flesh in the end. You will wither and fail, and I will grow and thrive always."With that, she turns to slither off.
The other Supplicant was more interesting, though a pitiful creature. His offer was a worthwhile one - he would need many mortals to practice his craft.
'Very well, Master of Comforts! I accept your offer for now. Provide me with mortals, and you will be rewarded accordingly.'
He would not speak with Miku or his patrons in such a public arena, but Maelocht turned towards them and gave a short bow. Soon, he hoped, he would be beyond them, but for now it paid to be courteous.
Accept Peach's offer.
"Oh, excellent sire! I look forward to your summons!"He looks pleased with himself.
((Sweet, I'm in))
Vas'nox, the Father of Ill Fates, ponders for a moment trying to consider, which of the two supplicants he desires to deal services with. Having both is not an option for Vas'nox as they would be overlapping in multiple fields of potential uses. He is a bit wary of Megara as there are quite a few unknowns in the bending of mortal's will but has the possibility of having the largest benefits in the long term. Pinnacle's offer has the least amount of draw backs, the bit about information is what draws him in and it could be quite valuable to have a means of steady information (well as a cost).
"Very well, Pinnacle your offer intrigues me. I shall permit you sanction in the world above, I will be making use of your services." replies in his ever cold voice.
"Megara of the Writhing Sands, I do not have need of your services at the present time. Nor shall I ever have need for them, there are too many complications when dealing with fanatic followers, and I do not wish to have to deal with such problems, now leave me be I have other matters to ponder." he replies in an equally cold voice.
Vas'nox remains dead silent after speaking with the two supplicants, his robe crimson still dripping a blood Red substance that dissipates as it hits the floor.
((Can we approach others in the crowd or are the two supplicants all we interact with?))
Pinnacle offers only a short bow in response, then shuffles off. Megara pouts at you, but says nothing above a mumble as she stalks off.
"Great Phor Yevell, Whisperer of Steel, I greet you. I am Kar Ragash, Scourge of Bone. My prowess in battle is undisputed, and my mighty war-horns instill courage into even the most blithering fool. Grant me a place by your side, and I shall stamp out the weakness that surely festers in your new city. Cowardice is a rot that spreads from place to place, and can only be excised entirely and without reservation. If but one child under your reign is a coward, your city will soon feel the heel of a new master. With me and my chosen as chieftains, neither shall ever come to pass."
"Great Kar Ragash, your offer is a grand one as it befits you. Your price is high as well, though, I note. You are a ruler, and seek to rule. You had designs on my position, or of that of these others here, and feel slighted not to receive it, I suspect. You hoped for me to take you along that you could assume your rightful position, perhaps finding me or one of the others weak. Perhaps I am misjudging you. Perhaps your offer is a test, even. Either way, surely you will understand why I reject it."
The dragon snorts and simultaneously blasts an irritated sound from its horns.
"It is a coward and a fool that fears any might but his own. If you cannot take a chieftain without ceding your throne, it is built upon ash and lies already.""Greetings, Great One. My name is Selenite of Bloodstone, and I come seeking your patronage. I am a talented warrior and huntress seeking companions, and would gladly train you an elite clan of warriors should you allow it. In exchange, I would expect me and my warriors to be well equipped and compensated, as well as to have full rights to do as we wish with any locals."
"Selenite of Bloodstone, you are offering elite warriors, eventually. You were careful to mention the training aspect, and quality training rarely comes quick or cheap. Understand that the same holds for equipment befitting elite soldiers, though hopefully Miraga has a head start on this. Understand further that the locals are an important resource. I should hope you and yours know not to squander them. Understand these terms, and I will accept your offer."
Phor briefly considered dealing with some of the other hopeful vultures, giving them blunt words of rejection. Instead, however, he enjoyed the Sammacle Spectacle. That was an enjoyable diplomatic strategy.
She claps her hands together excitedly.
"Of course, of course! We'll make sure not to waste them, I promise."