Build and install a REAP-O-MATIC 8000 to help you reap the dead souls that you've basically just ignored for the past 10 turns.
[6]
You are currently in the depths of a temperate forest, employing the reluctant help of a horrific mindflayer demon in order to track down a bone giant which you mistakenly created. You are doing this in order to finally put a stop to all of the troubles it has been causing you, reaching a climax when it smashed directly to Earth, horrifying all involved.
Time to create another aide to your job! Worked so well last time, didn't it?
You set to work immediately, foraging for sticks, stones and grasses with which to build your ingenious machine. No human would be able to create this, but you are able to because
fuck dude, you're
Death. The mindflayer demon (lets call him Flayguy) takes a look at you, reads your mind, and promptly facepalms his squid head. You ignore this rampant showing of disrespect as you start weaving a basket like some sort of muscular, primitive technomancer. Except you have no muscles because you are a skeleton.
Thirty minutes pass. The REAP-O-MATIC 8000, as nondescript as it is, looks nondescriptly magnificent. The mindflayer demon is pretending to file his nails in boredom, having given up and pointing you towards the horror, sounds of gunfire and explosions, and more horror. You do your thing and bring it to undeath - this would not have worked if the leaves and sticks it was made out of were still alive, but thankfully your touch kills all in its wake. It whirs to activeness, spinning around with a terrible creaking of sticks and rubbing of sharpened stones. It sets to work, intent on destroying all life.
You shuffle slightly uncomfortably as it churns. This isn't what you expected - flies begin dropping out of the air around it as the grass wilts, rots, and disappears entirely, the dirt it was on growing gray and sterile, before being crushed into sand altogether. You seem to be immune to its effects, but the mindflayer has barely enough time to get up before the circle of complete death reaches him and turns the squid-demon into a squid-corpse. And then a squid-skeleton and he's gone. Shit. You think you needed him for something but you can't remember what anymore.
In the distance, you spot a small dot on the horizon that quickly grows into a bloody, leathery piece of parchment that flies towards you. Ah, the fliers are here (you knew the GM didn't forget about them!). They get within a few meters from you before they fall out of the air onto the rapidly growing death-circle and eroding. Whoops. You don't have time to ponder this as a bloody pentagram appears in front of you, flames of red popping out of thin air to rest on the sterile sand. More of these circles appear, and out of them pop bright young men and women (and some less bright men and women), who promptly collapse onto the ground and are converted into more sandy dust, along with the drying up blood and candle flame. You see their souls, bright blue and vibrant, wink out of their bodies and explode in a lightshow in front of you.
This plan may have been badly timed.
UH: YEAH
YOU: CAN PROBABLY GUESS
HOW THE GRIM REAPER IS FEELING: KINDA PERTURBED IF IT WASN'T OBVIOUS
Author
Topic: Roll to Reaper (Read 15238 times)