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/tg/ - Traditional Games


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Previous threads: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Devil%20Summoner%20London%20Quest
Character Sheet: http://pastebin.com/GkV7x9Z9
Twitter: https://twitter.com/MolochQM

You were never one of those “I want a pony” types when you were growing up, but you've got to admit, having a horse to ride around on IS pretty cool. The fact that it's not a horse at all only makes things all the better

Your name is Cassandra Einhart, and you're currently riding a unicorn like the heroine from some bad fantasy novel. While your friend is on enforced bed rest, recovering from a savage beating she sustained at the hands of some unknown antagonist, you've got the job of gathering supplies for the upcoming challenge. Something to ward against poison, she said, with fire as an added bonus. For this, you've been sent to visit a wise old witch.

A month ago, you never would have imagined yourself doing this – working with pagan spirits in order to defeat an angel of the Lord, a servant of the deity that barely resembles the loving God you grew up with. You're going against God's own law, and you're doing it with a grim sense of determination – the belief that you're doing the right thing regardless.

To think, you used to be such a good girl.

Unicorn stops, bringing your attention back to reality. You're here, the hospital you spent a month in, waiting for Amelia to wake from her coma while the world went to hell around you. Seeing this place always sends a shudder of fear down your spine – but you've come too far to turn back. Get in, meet with this fairy witch and get out. Easy. No problem.
>>
>>42286799

At least the blood has faded by now. You're not sure what kind of strange biology causes their bodies to decay in a matter of moments rather than days, but you never see dead demons lying about. That's good obviously – who wants corpses piling up in the streets? - but it always gives you an uneasy feeling, like they were never here in the first place. You don't like to remember the fight with Forneus, that terrible moment when you saw Archangel tearing through the demon king and showered you with a rain of hot blood.

What you especially don't like to remember – what you've specifically tried to omit from your memory – was the unwelcome fact that you liked it. That shocking feeling of victory when you saw your enemy broken and slaughtered, combined with the primitive elation you felt when his blood rained down upon you, is not something you'd admit to anyone – not even Amelia. Grimacing as you relive the memories, you cross the hospital foyer and head straight down to the basement. Just get it over with.

Your voice echoes a little as you call out a tentative “Hello?” into the basement. Things have... changed since you were last here. The maze of crates and boxes have vanished, leaving the corridors looking like you imagine they once did, when this building was used as a hospital. Still calling out, you creep through the basement until you come to boiler room (according to the rusted sign above the door) and push through the heavy door.

“Welcome, Cursed one,” a smooth voice greets you as you enter, caressing your ears as you stare at the pagan edifice taking the place of the boiler. It's an open pit, filled with the kind of raging fire that serves only to consume sacrificial offerings. It's not a welcome scene at all, but you feel a sudden inescapable presence.
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>>42286808

...Cursed one? You stammer the sinister title out, looking around for the source of the voice.

“Oh,” the voice eventually rings out again, in a tone of hollow disappointment, “You're not who I was expecting.” Slowly, fading into view, a cloaked woman appears floating in mid air. “Tell me, human, what brings you to the lair of the witch Scathach?”

Oh, is she Scathach? You force a smile as you look at the inhuman woman. Amelia told you about her, told you that she might be able to help with a certain problem. When Scathach is silent, looking at you with curious eyes, you continue. Amelia needs something to protect her against poison – and fire, if possible – and she said to say that she's good for it. Can, ah, can she help?

“I have a particular item,” Scathach hums, “It would certainly help against poison and tainted air. Unfortunately, I seem to have forgotten where it is...”

Oh.

“Just give me a few moments to remember,” although her face is covered with a blank mask, Scathach's eyes are smiling, “Since you're here, though, why not do me a little favour while I think?”

Wait a minute, you splutter with sudden realisation, she hasn't forgotten where it is at all! This is... blackmail or something! Amelia said she could handle whatever favour Scathach might need. Then again, you've been looking for a chance to pull your weight for a while now, and this might just be your chance.

“It's really a very simple matter,” Scathach explains, “I just need you to deliver a message for me. That's all.”

>Fine. I'll do it
>Amelia can do it – later
>No deal. I'm leaving
>>
>>42286825
To who?
Never walk into something blind, that's what got Amelia shot and panicked to into letting Archangel slaughter as he willed.
>>
>>42286825
Fine. I'll do it.

Also, subconsciously will ourselve to enjoy the bloodlust and the power of violence.
>>
>>42286825
>Fine. I'll do it
Oh that's not too bad.
>>
>>42286881
Let's not go Chaos here.
>>
>>42286903
Lets go chaos here.
>>
>>42286910
Nah. Besides you don't just flip a switch like that. There needs to be development.
>>
>>42286928
>subconsciously
>will

I'm not saying flip a switch. I'm saying start the slow process now.
>>
Made it.
>>42286825
>Fine. I'll do it

>>42286881
Meh, I'll pass. I don't see why you'd want Cass to go Chaos unless you wanted conflict down the line.
>>
>>42286975
I do want conflict down the line. Also thematically right now it seems to work. Slow descent, paladin turns to anti-paladin. Classic trope.
>>
>>42286975
>>42286888
>>42286881

Fine. It's just delivering a message, right? Like, a letter or something – you're not supposed to be delivering a knife into someone's back or anything, right?

“Just a simple message,” Scathach confirms, “Words and a sentiment, that's all. I'll even give you something for yourself, to commemorate our meeting today.”

That doesn't sound SO bad. First though, what's the message and who are you delivering it to? Now that you're sure that it's not going to be some murderous task, you find yourself getting pretty enthusiastic about the whole affair. Today is the day you're going to be a useful member of your little group!

“I want you to find Cernunnos, the horned god of the hunt,” Scathach begins.

Oh come on, you groan, that's not fair! Isn't he supposed to be locked up in the darkest dungeon in the kingdom?

“Exactly so,” Scathach nods, “Which is why he needs you to take him a message. You see, despite his crimes he is still a nobleman. He deserves to know what's going on in court. That's what I'm asking you to do – just keep him informed of current events. If you need help getting to him, seek Cu Chulainn. I have no doubt that his word can sway the guards into letting you in.”

Could it really be that easy? Then again, everything you've seen of the fairy court seems to suggest a more... laid back approach to things. Maybe the word of a respected hero is all you'd need to stroll into the prison. Mind already whirling with ideas and half-formed plans, you turn to leave.

“Tell me, child,” Scathach purrs, stopping you in your tracks, “What do you see yourself as – a warrior punishing the wicked, or a hero protecting the innocent?”

That's an interesting question – and one that brings back worrying memories of that joy you felt in battle. That happiness you felt – was it because of slaying a great demon, or saving your friend?

>Punishing the wicked
>Protecting the innocent
>Other
>>
>>42287047
>Protecting the innocent
I wonder if this affects the item she'll get form Scathach.
>>
>>42287047
>Other

The only way it seems possible to protect innocents is through brutal violence and the use of powerful demonic creatures. Its a worrying state of affairs.

Translated into Cassandra style of talking, obviously.
>>
>>42287047
>>Other
"Both? They seem come hand in hand more often than not."
>>
>>42287067
>>42287088
>>42287114
>>42287237

You pause, thinking about the question. You're smart enough to notice when something is just an idle curiosity and when it's more than that – and this, you're certain, is more than just a passing query. On paper, the two ideas are close together – protect the innocent by punishing the wicked – but you're certain that there is a difference between them, and an important difference at that. Perhaps, however, the difference is purely in your own heart. A test of character, then?

Sometimes, you admit with a sigh, the only way to protect those you care about is with violence – raw, untamed violence carried out at the hands of vicious demons and merciless angels. It doesn't make it right, but it's the only option left in this new world. If that's what it takes, however, you're not going to back down. You'll protect the innocent, you tell Scathach with a burst of determination, and the ones you care about!

“I see,” Scathach nods, her voice revealing nothing, “I'm already starting to get an idea of where I left that particular item. Please, leave me for a while.”

That's not a request you're about to argue against. True, the demon offered no threat or show of force, but you could not fail to recognise the power she was capable of wielding. Just being in the same room as her – a cramped, sweltering room at that – was enough to make you nervous, no matter how much determination you mustered up. You hurry up the stairs and emerge into the relative brightness of the hospital foyer, taking a moment to slump down on a bench and sort your thoughts.

You'll have to come back here later, of course, to collect your rewards. That shouldn't be too bad – just stroll down, make some small talk and leave. Still, though, you shouldn't consider it a done deal already. You've got your side of the bargain to fulfill yet

Cross that bridge when you get to it, you decide, as you begin to make your way back to the court.
>>
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>>42287344

Back in the court, you're lucky enough that you don't have to search long before finding Cu Chulainn. The hero is sitting outside on the ledge of an old marble fountain, occasionally swishing his fingers through the clear water within. Once again, just a single look at the youthful warrior is enough to send a flurry of jumbled thoughts running through your mind. He really is very good looking, in a curiously androgynous way. Before you really decide to, you find yourself walking over to greet him.

“Cassandra,” the warrior offers you a smile as you draw near, standing up and shaking droplets of water from his long fingers. His spear, the famous Gae Bolg, lies in the overgrown grass at his feet. “It's a good day to wander, today. I only wish I could be so free to explore.”

Huh? You flounder for a moment before collecting your thoughts. Is he... not free to walk about? He's not a prisoner or anything, right?

“Of course not,” Cu Chulainn laughs softly, “But my duties keep me from wandering too far, or for too long. This is my role, and I don't wish to complain, but sometimes it becomes wearisome.”

Oh, well. You've got your own duties, you think to yourself, and maybe he'd appreciate the distraction?

>Make small talk before leaving
>Ask about his duties
>Ask for help with Scathach's task
>Other
>>
>>42287389
>>Ask about his duties
>>Ask for help with Scathach's task
>>
>>42287389
>Make small talk
But then segue into
>Ask for help with Scathach's task
>>
>>42287389
>>Make small talk
>>Ask about his duties
>>Ask for help with Scathach's task
>>
>>42287413
>>42287415
>>42287454

Well you've not really been doing anything too exciting either, you remark, skipping around the issue at hand. You talk aimlessly for a while, first mentioning your experiences riding Unicorn for the first time and then spinning off into a tangent about, well, whatever really. The fairy listens patiently, occasionally throwing in a comment of his own but, eventually, you can't delay things any longer.

His duties, you ask cautiously, what are they? Doing... heroic things, you imagine – although, admittedly, you don't really know what a hero does on a day to day basis.

“Nothing much,” Cu Chulainn sighs, a trace of his frustration creeping through in the strained exhalation, “The court is paralysed at the moment, by this stupid squabble the king and queen have thrown. Nothing is getting done, because neither of them can agree on anything. Most of the time, my main duty is protecting them – from each other, more than anything else. I've become a glorified guard dog. Ironic, really.”

Is it? You get the vague feeling that he's making a joke here, one that just flew right over your head. Well, you take a deep breath and approach the topic at hand, how does he fancy a little diversion? Something different for a change?

“Different?” Cu Chulainn raises a beautifully sculpted eyebrow, “You've got my attention. What are you proposing?”

Well, ah, it's a sensitive matter, you begin. Not one for prying ears.

“Now I'm really curious,” a grin twists the young man's lips, “What mischief do you have planned, Cassandra?”

Just delivering a message, that's all! You tell him hastily, before adding in the smallest voice possible: to Cernunnos.

“I see,” Cu Chulainn strokes his chin, “You'll need help getting past the guards, of course.”

Well, that's sort of what you were going to ask him about...

“Leave it to me,” he grins again, eyes lively with the possibility of getting up to no good.
>>
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>>42287580
>I've become a glorified guard dog. Ironic, really.”
>>
>>42287580

You're actually impressed with Cu Chulainn's ability to change his apparent mood in an instant. He was bright and happy all the time he led you through the castle corridors, pointing out various features and rooms – a quiet place to take a nap here, a balcony with a good view there – but his expression changes completely when you descend the stairs to the dungeons. He leads you down staircase after staircase, until you're finally confronted by a pair of guards and a heavy iron door.

“Please,” the hero asks, his face as dark and foreboding as a gathering of thunderclouds, “Stand aside. We have... business with the prisoner.”

“We have orders...” the first guard, a rather nervous looking pixie begins, but already she sounds like she's about to faint dead away.

“Nobody is to see the prisoner,” the second guard – a tall elfin figure that doesn't look so different from Cu Chulainn himself – adds in a sterner voice.

“Really?” folding his arms and scowling, your escort meets the guard's eyes. It only takes a moment for the nameless soldier to look down and away, “He seems quite secure to me. Besides, king Oberon thinks seeing me might... stir up a reaction.”

“King Oberon said that?” the pixie blurts out, “Well, that counts as an order from the top, doesn't it? We should, eh, give you some privacy, right?”

“What about the human?” the taller guard glares your way, refusing to budge from his post.

“My personal secretary,” Cu Chulainn responds. Hastily, you take out your notebook and make a show of noting something down. “Should I report that you impeded my progress?”

That, finally, is enough to send both guards on their way. You listen to them leave – the pixie chattering excitedly and the taller one grumbling to himself – before letting yourself through the prison door.
>>
>>42287724

“Have you come to taunt me some more, Oberon?” a deep voice – you'd have trouble forgetting the sound of Cernunnos' voice in a hurry – calls out from the dank pit in the centre of the room, “I grow weary of your endless games.”

Cu Chulainn nods you forwards, keeping back and out of sight. You step up to the rim of the pit and sit down, crossing your legs so they don't dangle down. You don't think he can reach you, and the thick chain around the horned god's leg would stop him from jumping, but there's no point in risking yourself. Still, though, you find yourself wondering what you'll tell him. Tell him everything above is going to hell? He might like that, or perhaps he'd prefer good news – assuming there's any good news to tell him.

“Human?” Cernunnos' voice grows guarded, “Why have YOU come here? Come to stare at an old enemy, defeated and laid low?”

Huh, no! You came to deliver a message – an explanation of what's being going on above, in the court. Doesn't he want to know?

“I'm curious,” the prisoner admits reluctantly, “I hear so little news down here.”

>Tell him of recent events. Be optimistic
>Tell him of recent events. Be pessimistic
>Tell him something else (Write in)
>>
>>42287747
I guess tell him what Cass knows of, which isn't all that much. So I assume optimistic cause Cu Chulainn is back but pessimistic that the King and Queen are constantly arguing?
>>
>>42287747
>Tell him of recent events. Be Optimistic.


But also.

Tell him that we're going to re-gather his army, but put Cu Chulainn at the head of it. We're going to take over the fairy court, kill Oberon, give him Titania as long as he remains one of our most stout and loyal generals and then use the fairy army to fight off the legions of angels and devils.
>>
>>42287822
Woah slow down. This is Cass we are talking about.
>>
>>42287747
>>42287780
I'll second this

>>42287822
u wot m8? Amelia might do that in time, but Cass knows nothing of the court intrigue.
>>
>>42287833
>>42287860


Last part was entirely facetious.
>>
>>42287747
>Tell him of recent events. Be optimistic
>>
>>42287950
>>42287860
>>42287822

Things are... well, you're not entirely sure. Too late, you realise that you're not exactly the expert here. Did Scathach know that when she sent you down here? Maybe this was deliberate, some strange attempt to get an unbiased source. Amelia is deeper down the rabbit hole, so to speak, but she's probably formed her own opinions and alliances by now. You, on the other hand, can only tell it as you see it.

Well, maybe you've always been an optimist at heart, but you decide to give Cernunnos a brighter take on things. There's no point in giving him some anarchic sense of satisfaction at the idea of everything falling apart. Still, you might as well start with the bad news and finish on a high note. The king and queen, you tell him, are squabbling amongst themselves. You're not... exactly sure why though.

“Nobody ever is,” Cernunnos laughs, “Those two are always fighting about something or another, but they always make up in the end. Maybe it's all an act, something to keep the public amused.”

You're not too sure about that – it seems like a genuinely bitter, behind the scenes affair to you – but you hold your tongue. If you can't say anything nice about them, perhaps it's best not to say anything at all. With that in mind, you move onto the brighter news – Cu Chulainn is back, and the people are rejoicing!

This does not get the reaction you were expecting.

“I see...” Cernunnos leans forwards, resting his skull-clad face on his knees, “Has he said anything about me?”

Nothing major, you shrug, some passing mentions as far as you can recall. Was he expecting anything?

Cernunnos doesn't answer that question. “Is he here?” he asks instead, his voice still hushed. You glance over to the hero, who is still lurking out of sight with an indecisive look on his face. Seeing your glance, he shrugs helplessly, waiting to hear your answer

>He's here
>He's not here
>Other
>>
>>42288049
>He's here
>>
>>42288049
he's here
>>
>>42288049
>>He's here
>>
>>42288049
>>He's here
>>
>>42288077
>>42288092
>>42288112
>>42288260

He's here, you answer. After all, why wouldn't you? He IS here. You recall that Cu Chulainn was supposed to be Cernunnos' champion, and one a pretty big deal in the horned god's army. They've probably got a lot to catch up on. Frankly, you thought they'd both look a little happier about this meeting, but it's not really your place to pry.

“I'm here,” Cu Chulainn adds after a moment's hesitation. Slowly, you start to suspect that there's something else going on here, something between the pair of them that you were, until now, unaware of. Whatever it is, it's left the atmosphere feeling thick and awkward.

“Human, I fear I have no right to ask this,” Cernunnos' voice is a low growl, strained with the effort of remaining surprisingly polite, “But can you leave us? We have... much to discuss, this hero and I. Things that would not agree with young ears.”

Oh, so that's what happened. Two warriors, risking their lives together on a battlefield, each one owing their life to the other many times over. Really, there's only one way for a situation like that to end...

Flushing red, you agree hastily to Cernunnos' request. You'll just... leave them to it. You're not one to get in the way of such things. It's not really your kind of thing, but... ahem, you've got somewhere to be anyway. Giving Cu Chulainn one last flustered look – you'll never see him in the same light again – you hurry from the dungeon. In fact, you don't stop hurrying until you're in the main section of the castle, once again in the land of light and warmth.

Ah, Scathach! You should go and speak with Scathach! Glad to have something to do, you rush from the castle and make for the real world.
>>
>>42288285

The witch is waiting exactly where you last saw her, hovering in the middle of the room with her legs folded and her fists closed. You're still feeling a little giddy from rushing so much when you arrive, but she waits patiently for you to regain your breath. Then, slowly, you explain to her the message you delivered, and the reaction. It's impossible to gauge her reaction – that white mask she wears robs her face of all warmth and emotion, save for that in her eyes – but she seems content.

“You'll be glad to know that I was able to find that item,” holding out her left hand, Scathach opens her fist to reveal a porcelain mask, sculpted into a serene human face, “The Mask of the Saint will guard against all poisons that darken the air. Don't worry,” she adds, “It's tougher than it looks. I imagine the skull would shatter before the Mask ever would.”

That's... reassuring.

“And this is for you, defender of the weak,” Scathach announces with a vague amusement, “The Martyr's Guard.” Her right hand, when opened, contains a metal shield, about the size of a dinner plate. Inlaid with flowery designs, it looks surprisingly elegant for a lump of what you take to be steel.

You take it, turning it over in your hands before fastening it to your wrist. What does it do, you ask as you examine it some more, does it stop time?

“Though of limited use against swords and bullets, this buckler projects a shield that should stop all but the most powerful magic,” a pause here, “For a time. Not long, but the shield is wide and protects all who hide behind it, not just you.”

That is interesting. You imagine throwing yourself in front of a deadly magic blast, shielding some defenceless victim from the baleful energies. Now that's heroic!

“Now go,” Scathach tells you, “Take these treasures to your friend, and make good use of them! I'll be keeping my eye on you, human...”
>>
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>>42288415

Character sheet: http://pastebin.com/60se8siH

You keep wanting to tell Carnby that it was your hand that got smashed, not your legs. Though, to be honest, you don't think it would do much good. Your injuries have more or less healed by now, but the unkempt professor insists on pushing you about in this rickety wheelchair.

Where did he even find something like this?

Your name is Amelia Bishop, and you're about to get into some serious occult shit. Maybe. Hopefully. Assuming Carnby actually performs this ritual he claims to have unearthed. He's just about as unwilling as a man can possibly get without outright killing himself as an alternative. It's not that you're madly keen on the idea either, but you really don't see any other option. When you set out to kill an Archangel, and possibly a high ranking devil as well, you don't take anything other than the biggest stick you can find.

And, if Carnby's assessment of this summoning ritual is correct, this is going to be a pretty big stick. You're honestly a little curious.

“You don't have to do this,” Carnby tells you, for what seems like the millionth time, as he pushes the wheelchair down a corridor, “Nobody would blame you for backing down now.”

Maybe not, but you'd blame yourself. You've taken your first steps down a violent path, and you've got to see it through. Turning back is no longer an option.

“You don't have to prove yourself to me,” Carnby insists, “Is that what this is about? I'm already... proud of you. That's not going to change, and you don't need to impress me.”

Is that what he thinks this is about?

>Stay silent
>This is bigger than you and me. You know that
>Don't try and get in my way.
>Other
>>
>>42288553
>This is bigger than you and me. You know that
...but thanks.
>>
>>42288553
>This is bigger than you and me. You know that
>>
>>42288553
>>This is bigger than you and me. You know that
...... But thanks dad
>>
>>42288553
>Other

I love you too dad.
>>
>>42288600
>>42288649
>>42288733
>>42288793

Come on, you groan, this is bigger than just you or Carnby. He should know that. This isn't about pride or proving yourself, this is about taking your city back from both the angels and the devils. This is about taking a stand!

You'd feel a lot more convincing if you were actually standing when you said that, but never mind. You kick your heels against the wheelchair and hesitate for a moment. Thanks though, you murmur.

“Thanks?” Carnby sounds surprised, wrong footed by your grudging appreciation.

For, you know, caring about you. He's just trying to protect you – you know that – and It does mean something to do. It means a lot, in fact.

“Well,” Carnby coughs into a closed fist, clearly no less awkward about this unexpected heart to heart than you are. “I AM your father after all. I, uh,” he clears his throat again, “I love you. In my own way. Not that that's a bad way, just different maybe. Uh, you know what I mean. Right?”

Heh. You love him too. Then, with an effort greater than anything else you've done so far, fighting Archangels included, you force yourself to add: Dad.

“Looks like we're here!” Carnby shouts, forcefully changing the subject as you both draw closer to an innocuous looking room. It's pretty out of the way, and the cobwebs clinging to the ceiling and walls suggests that it's been a long time since anyone else came this way. The perfect place for some occult experimentation, in other words. “I've set everything up, drawn the summoning circle, prepared the ritual chant, so we can get started immediately. Unless you've changed your mind?”

Nice try, but your mind is made up. Gripping the arms of the wheelchair, you lift yourself to your feet and take a first few experimental steps. You're stiff and sore, but everything seems in working order. Looks like it's time to get this show on the road.
>>
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>>42288998

“Okay,” Carnby breathes as he steps around the chalk circle drawn on the ground, careful not to disturb any of the lines, “Do exactly as I tell you. If you do that, we should both be safe. Stay outside this circle at all times, understand? Outside!”

Jeez, you get it. You can't help but roll your eyes a little at the great lengths Carnby goes to to stress the risks. You're no fool – you're not about to start messing around with ancient glyphs and other nonsense.

“Alright, now repeat after me,” Carnby instructs. “Darkness will swallow the Earth.”

Darkness will swallow the Earth, you chant. What kind of ritual is this? You're trying to save the world, not blow it up!

“Frost will grip the land,” your old teacher chants, with you adding your voice soon after. You can feel... something. Some power gathering. “Hell has frozen over,” the chant goes, “Reach up, fingers of hellish ice, rise up to Earth!”

A pause here, as Carnby glances over to you, his imploring eyes asking a question. You nod, the gesture tiny, and his expression hardens. He's preparing himself for the worst, you realise.

“I call upon thee, Black Frost!” Carnby shouts suddenly, making you jump a little, “I call upon thee!”

“Hee-Ho! Who summons me?” a booming voice rings out, mere seconds before a towering figure explodes into the centre of the summoning circle, “Who dares to summon me?”

You do, you announce boldly, following some blind instinct. You've summoned him to serve you in battle!

Silence descends as the giant... snowman looking thing... leans down to examine you. You've got to admit, it doesn't look impressed. Then again, you're not convinced by the look of the thing either – sure, it's big, but it looks like it's been sculpted out of marshmallow fluff.
>>
>>42289176

“Hee! Who's this ho?” the ridiculous looking thing booms out, giving you a distinctly shitty look. Charming. You've got a real charmer on you hands here. Carnby, meanwhile, has sidled backwards until he's out of side, pressed against the back wall of the room.

You're the person who'll be giving this asshole his orders, you snap, hoping to assert your authority. It seems to work – kind of – because the giant demon looks briefly impressed.

“You'll hee-have to do harder than that, ho-human!” Black Frost shouts. Again, you have to wonder why all demons seem to like shouting so much. “Hee! You look warm, ho!”

Warm? You don't know about that. You're warmer than, say, snow, so that's probably something. But what's that got to do with anything?

“I'll work for you, ho!” Black Frost offers, “But only if I get to keep your warmth!”

That sounds kind of fatal. You're no expert, but humans tend to need their body heat to survive. You're not agreeing to something that'll just have you dropping down dead a moment later.

“Hee-humans are no fun, ho!” Black Frost groans, “You won't die, ho! It won't hee-harm you at all!”

“That's right,” Carnby calls out, in a strained, unwilling voice, “It can't harm you unless you break that circle.”

Is that so? Well, it looks like you've got a choice to make.

>Fine. Take my “warmth”
>No deal.
>>
>>42289305
I'll do you one better. I'm going up against Archangel Uriel soon. You can have HIS warmth. Probably more substantial than mine.
>>
>>42289305
"Who's this ho?"

Excuse me bitch! Hold my earrings, Carnby.
>>
>>42289305
Fine, take my warmth. Would you also like 323 macca and a life stone?
>>
>>42289344
>>42289305
I am willing to try
>>
>>42289305
>>42289344
This.
>>
>>42289393
>>42289530
>>42289344

You have a counter proposal, you begin. Black Frost's eyes grow wide, filled with a mixture of curiosity and offended anger, but the demon remains silent. You glance at Carnby – the man looks like he's sweating bullets, face frozen with nervous panic – and realise that he's not going to be any help here. He summoned the damn thing, but you're on your own now. Sure, you've got a little warmth, but you're willing to bet the Archangel Uriel has a whole lot more.

“Hee?” Black Frost narrows his eyes, “You're a strange ho, human! You're either brave, or you're really stupid!”

That's not the first time you've been told that, you admit. So how about it? All the warmth he can steal from a servant of God – that's got to be tempting, right?

“Hee... what about after that? I'll starve without someone's warmth!” Black Frost sounds affronted, offended, “You feed me until then, I'll kill this angel of yours and then, ho, I'm leaving!”

Hmm. More of a temporary arrangement than a permanent partnership? Not exactly what you had in mind, but if the alternative is having all your body heat stolen for the entire foreseeable future...

>Let's make this permanent. You can take my warmth for as long as you want
>Alright, we'll work together until Uriel is dead
>This isn't going to work out. No deal.
>>
>>42289607
>Alright, we'll work together until Uriel is dead
Then from there we'll decide if we want this permanent or not.
>>
>>42289607
>>Let's make this permanent. You can take my warmth for as long as you want
>>
>>42289607
>>Alright, we'll work together until Uriel is dead
>>
>>42289646
>>42289665

Alright, you tell Black Frost warily, you'll work together until you've dealt with Uriel. After that, perhaps you'll think about a more permanent arrangement. You're not signing anything until you know what you're buying, and how much you're going to pay for it.

“Hee, the pact is sealed, ho!” Black Frost announces and then, as you feel every last morsel of warmth being stripped from your body, you begin to wonder if you've made a terrible mistake.

Cold isn't the word for it. The closest comparison you can draw is when Forneus almost killed you with his dying breath. Your body aches from within with an awful, clinging chill. Even your breath fogs the air, coming out in a frigid cloud. Is this what you signed up for? You can't imagine living like this for a day, let alone the rest of your life. But, if this new demon is powerful enough...

“Hee, your warmth is so nice, ho!” Black Frost gloats, “Now, ho, who're we going to kill?”

Archangel... Uriel, remember? You're forced to stammer the words out through chattering teeth, fruitlessly clutching your hands to your sides in an attempt to preserve your quickly draining body heat. With a final booming laugh, Black Frost vanishes into the storage of your phone.

>Demon Black Frost obtained!

“You see?” Carnby asks sadly as the demon vanishes, “I hope this is worth it. Powerful demons like these, you always have to pay.”

Yeah yeah, you mutter, this isn't permanent. There's no way any sane person would inflict this upon themselves permanently. You need something to take your mind off things, at the very least. Something to get this over with as quickly as possible.

“A distraction? Cassandra should be getting back soon,” Carnby offers, “I saw her here earlier, actually. Taking a walk with that Cu Chulainn chap, I think. Want to go and see if we can find her?”

That sounds like a good idea.
>>
>>42289966
Hey Moloch, would shoving Black Frost into an Scathach item end this whole 'warmth' thing? Might be something to do after killing Paz and Uriel if thats the case.
>>
>>42289999

>That would count as getting him out of the party, so yes, it would end the pact. The item might have side-effects though!
>>
>>42290051
If the side effects were bad enough, can we throw away or return or trade Scathach items?
>>
>>42290079

>Scathach could always keep an item in storage for you, or trade it for another item/a favour.
>>
>>42290142
Gotcha, thanks.
>>
>>42289966

Cassandra, as it happens, is waiting in the foyer. She's holding a strange mask, and has a metal plate strapped to one arm. Her face is set in a distracted expression, gazing off into space as if she's pondering something deeply, deeply important.

“Hello Cassandra,” Carnby shouts out as you both approach, you in the lead and the professor waiting a step behind, ready to catch you if you happen to collapse. “How was your day, did you get everything you wanted?”

“Ah, uh, yes!” Cassandra stands up immediately, her head snapping round, “Everything and more, actually. Amelia, this is for you,” she tells you, holding out the curious porcelain mask. “Scathach says this should protect you against poison. The Mask of the Saint, she called it. It does kind of look like a saint, doesn't it? Calm, in a way.”

Sure, you guess? You're not really in the mood to admire weapons and armour, as artfully crafted as they might be, but you'll play along. Then, smiling wickedly as a thought occurs to you, you ask how her date with Cu Chulainn went. You're not really sure what you expected, but Cassandra's reaction was definitely not it.

The girl first pales, and then slowly her cheeks fill with a red bloom. She shakes her head slowly, sadly, before murmuring, “I wouldn't get your hopes up.”

You're about to ask what she means when Carnby taps you on the shoulder. “I know I shouldn't be encouraging this, but if you're feeling healthy enough...”

Yeah, you agree, you should get this show on the road. All your preparations are finished – you think – and the longer you wait here, the closer Pazuzu or Uriel get to the cornerstone. You've got the whole of the London Underground to search, so you'd better get a move on.

>Go search for the cornerstone
>Ask Cassandra to come with you
>Do something else first.
>>
>>42290211
>Go search for the cornerstone
Ask carnby to update Cassanda's phone
>>
>>42290211
>>Do something else first.
One last thing. Undine can enchant weapons with Ice right? Can she enchant our pistol? Both of these opponents aren't ones we want to be close enough to use our fist and having a ranged alternative would be nice. Specially if its ice again.

Then
>Go search for the cornerstone
Resist poison thing can only work on one person unfortunately.
>>
>>42290211
>>Ask Cassandra to come with you

It sure is unfortunate that I'd totally die i I got hit directly by some powerful magical attack, isn't it Cassandra. *nudge nudge*
>>
>>42290273
You know what fuck it

>>42290211
Switch out 'searching' for
>Ask Cassandra to come with you

Just make sure when we say the run the fuck away holy shit poison everywhere she books it.
>>
>>42290211
Also when we head out get a ride with Eligor. It'll help keep pace with Cass's Unicorn (if she does come with us.)
>>
>>42290386
Lets summon Valkyrie as well since she also has a horse and we really haven't done much with her
>>
>>42290409
Sure we can do that instead. She didn't even say a word when she fucking blasted Raph.
>>
>>42290422
No, lets summon both. Just in case we run into Babar and Dumbo again.
>>
>>42290446
Sounds good.
>>
>>42290237
>>42290273
>>42290282
>>42290386

Cassandra, you ask, would you like to come along this time? You wouldn't say no to the help, and you're a little curious to see what that dinner plate she's got can do.

“It's not a plate, Amelia,” Cassandra gives you a patient smile, “It's a buckler. It can put up a magic shield, apparently. I bet I could block anything with this thing – and it looks so cool, like something a hero of justice would use!”

You agree, but privately, you wonder if she's not taking this seriously. This isn't a game, you warn her, it'll be dangerous if she comes along. You'd like her company, but you don't want her to go into this with the wrong attitude.

“Right, got it,” Cassandra nods, “Oh, wait. We've only got enough poison resisting stuff for one of us. That's not good, is it?”

You've thought about this, you assure her, you'll go down first, with the mask on. If you find Pazuzu first, you'll take him out and clear the poison. Then, you'll send Cassandra a message or something – a text, if these dumb phones actually still work as phones. There's one last thing you've got to take care of though. Taking your phone out, you call up Undine.

“Hey boss,” the little sprite greets you cheerfully, “You're looking better. But, uh, you got a cold or something? You're looking kinda pale there.”

Just a cold, yeah, you tell her with a bitter, trembling smile. You've got a question, though – can she enchant a weapon, you glance across at Cassandra and leave the term deliberately vague, with ice? You might need a little magical assistance for this next fight.

“I can handle that,” Undine assures you, “It's temporary, but it'll last long enough for a fight.”

Alright, you grin, sending Undine back into storage and clapping Cassandra on the shoulder. You've got some work to do.
>>
>>42290551
>like something a hero of justice would use

Okay Midori.
>>
File: Valkyrie.jpg (93 KB, 600x826)
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93 KB JPG
>>42290551

Outside, Cassandra calls up Unicorn and you summon your cavalry – both Valkyrie and Eligor. The knight's demonic steed and Unicorn bristle around each other, sniffing and growling, but fortunately they don't come to blows. You've got enough on your plate to deal with without having a joust or something to disrupt.

“Master, we're riding into dangerous territory!” Valkyrie warns you as you climb onto the back of her horse.

Is that a problem?

“It's better this way!” the pugnacious swordswoman cackles, “We ride for glory!”

“Glory!” Eligor bellows in agreement, thrusting his lance high into the air. He's already claimed one Archangel, you recall, and he seems eager enough to add another scalp to his trophy cabinet.

“Uh, glory!” Cassandra adds, pumping an awkward fist in the air. As awkward as she looks, she sits astride Unicorn with a surprising amount of grace and familiarity. She's been practising, you think to yourself. Together, your little army takes flight, searching for a likely entrance. Suffice to say, it doesn't take long to find one.

You see the familiar London Underground sign, rusted and blackened with decay, rising up above a descending staircase carved into the ground. Normally, you could see right down into the tunnel but now, a symptom of Pazuzu's corruption, a thick mist creeps up from the tunnel and clings to the ground. Even with the mask pulled down over your face, the acrid reek of the poison sticks to your throat. Between that and the chill, you really do feel ill.

“Woah,” Cassandra murmurs, holding a hand over her face, “You're really going down there.”

Damn right, you tell her. You don't have much choice. You dismount Valkyrie and approach the blighted entrance. Hell, where to start?

>Enter the Underground (choose two demons)
>See if Pixie can guide you (choose one demon)
>Other
>>
>>42290742
>See if Pixie can guide you (choose one demon)
Black Frost
>>
>>42290772
>>42290742
Second
>>
>>42290772
Third
>>
>>42290772
>>42290890
>>42290943

Pixie was able to sniff out the first cornerstone you found, and her nose hasn't failed you before now, so you might as well see if she can help here as well. This thick toxic mist could get in the way, but if she can't offer any assistance, well, you can just send her back to storage and do it the hard way. You call the little fairy up, shortly followed by Black Frost. Might as well get as much use out of this big lug as you can.

“Uh boss, I don't feel so good,” Pixie complains, “Something down here stinks. No, wait, everything down here stinks.”

You know, you agree as you take the steps one at a time, each one cutting your visibility down until you can barely see a few feet in front of your face. It sucks, yeah, but can she sniff out anything down here? The cornerstone, maybe?

“Sorry boss, this gunk is blocking everything out,” Pixie takes a tentative sniff and then groans, green in the face, “It's thickest this way though. I could take you to the centre of it, no problem.”

That'll do, you tell her, now lead on.

Grumbling all the while, Pixie leads you through the maze of tunnels, occasionally stopping to cast a quick healing spell on herself. At least Black Frost – walking behind you with heavy, ponderous steps – seems unaffected by the swill he's breathing in. If anything, he seems in good spirits, humming in a booming drone. You certainly hope he's enjoying your body heat, because you would really like some of it back right about now.

Then, Pixie stops in her tracks, pointing down to some dim lights in the distance. “There,” she hisses, “That station there.”

That's it?

“That's it,” she confirms.
>>
File: Pazuzu.jpg (755 KB, 1804x2676)
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755 KB JPG
>>42291084

You can just about make out a shape, moving through the mist. A terrible rasping breath rips through the air, and the mist around you grows that much thicker. That's Pazuzu alright, spewing his poison into the air with gleeful abandon. Until he's dead, you're not going to be doing anything productive. The figure is... about barely human, although twisted into a bestial shape, with a lion's head and two pairs of scrawny, scrappy wings.

It's not seen you yet, at least, and you creep forwards a little, keeping low to the ground. Is this thing really searching for the cornerstone? Lilith was searching for it, in her own manipulative way, but this abomination is just prowling like an animal. Can it even think?

Ice, you remind yourself of Undine's advice, she said ice might work. If that's the case, you've got the right man backing you up. Pixie, on the other hand, looks about ready to pass out. Before she can drop dead – or at least faint – you return her to storage to rest.

That little action, that tiny flare of magic involved in the process, seems to trigger some reaction from the skulking devil. It stops in the middle of a step, raising his head to smell the air. You freeze, but slowly the devil's head swivels in your direction.

>Summon a demon and fight
>Run
>Other
>>
>>42291208
Hey Moloch does Troll have any resistance to poison?
>>
>>42291208
>Summon a demon and fight
Undine, have her enchant our pistol and help out Black Frost with Ice artillery.
>>
>>42291283
second
>>
>>42291268

>He's not immune, but his regeneration largely cancels it out - unless he gets burned.
>>
>>42291308
Hmm alright we'll keep him up to bat in case something goes wrong with this plan.
>>
>>42291318
second
>>
File: Undine.png (25 KB, 324x410)
25 KB
25 KB PNG
Rolled 85, 71 = 156 (2d100)

>>42291283
>>42291300

Black Frost blunders ahead of you, shielding you from harm as you summon Undine, sending her a brisk command to enchant your pistol with ice. Nodding and waving a hand across the weapon – even as she grows pallid and sickly looking from breathing the tainted air. The gun grows deathly cold in your hand - not that you really notice, what with your drained body heat – and the metal clings to your skin.

Pazuzu, sensing the magic, howls out a throaty roar and drops to all fours. It's bigger than you thought – perspective having abandoned you in this foggy labyrinth – big enough that you could crawl beneath the thing without touching a hair on its belly. Preparing yourself to dive out of the way should the thing lunge, you command your two demons to attack. Both Undine and Black Frost surround themselves with a curtain of frigid air, ready to fling ice at the bestial devil.

>Please roll 2D100, first for Undine, second for Black Frost. I'll take the highest of the first three
>>
Rolled 44, 8 = 52 (2d100)

>>42291452
pls
>>
Rolled 13, 68 = 81 (2d100)

>>42291452
>>
Rolled 71, 87 = 158 (2d100)

>>42291452
Ice him!
>>
Rolled 97 (1d100)

>>42291573
>>
Rolled 5 (1d60)

>>42291495

Undine's attack – perhaps due to its slighter potency – strikes first, but does little other than crusting a skin of frost across Pazuzu's muzzle. Ignoring the feeble attack, the raging devil swipes out a heavy paw and swats Undine from the air, smashing her to the ground with enough force to shatter the metal train tracks beneath. Howling victoriously, the devil rears up, ready to smash the stunned sprite with both claws.

Then Black Frost finally chooses to attack, hurling a vast icicle into Pazuzu's chest. It strikes true, hurling the bestial devil back and sending a spray of blood gushing forth, instantly freezing into a spray of rubies that twinkle in the vague light. The force of the blow sends Pazuzu flying back, landing in a crumpled heap a few feet away. For a moment, all is still.

You're looking down at Undine's broken body, wincing at the sight of your faithful companion struggling to hold onto her physical form. Then, snapping you out of your distracted haze, a frightful howl comes from the risen Pazuzu. It LOOKS at you, fixing you with a hideous, hellish gaze. You feel, for a moment, your heart pausing.

>Please roll 1D100, I'll take the highest of the first three
>>
Rolled 59 (1d100)

>>42291646
>>
Rolled 53 (1d100)

>>42291646
Fire away.
>>
Rolled 41 (1d100)

>>42291646
>>
>>42291654

There is a flare of discharging energy but, save for a vague tingling on the surface of your skin, nothing comes of it. You just came close to death, you realise, sensing with an ominous shiver the power behind Pazuzu's murderous gaze. Something – luck, a greater destiny? - saved you, gave you another opportunity. An opportunity to strike back while the devil is recoiling in startled horror, stunned by the failure of its final attack.

It's not an opportunity you waste. While the devil is frozen in place – literally, you realise when you see the ice crystals forming around it – you lift your enchanted pistol and shoot the thing in its stupid lion face. You fire again and again, the sound of each gunshot overlapping each other and punishing your ears. Each shot blows a gruesome chunk out of Pazuzu's head and, by the time your hammer falls on an empty magazine, the devil's brains have exploded out in frozen lumps. At least some part of the ice magic has retarded the smell, preserving you from the stench of devil entrails.

By the time you look down, Undine has vanished, faded into mist of information that retreats to the safety of your phone. The other mist, the toxic fog that Pazuzu had belched out into the tunnels, begins to fade quickly, drawn away by the death of its cause.

Finally, you can breath easily.

>That's where I'll end this thread tonight. Next thread on Sunday, I think, and I'll lurk for a while in case of questions.
>>
>>42291809
Thanks for the run boss.

We are going to need to find more ammo sometime.

Are we now officially on Lucy's shitlist?
>>
>>42291809
Thanks for running! Any sign of Uriel? Black's thoughts on us?
>>
>>42291871

We're certainly trying his patience. There might very well be devils looking to start a fight in Amelia's future

>>42291888

Uriel is also in the tunnels, hunting for wrongdoers to punish. Now that Pazuzu is slurry, that means us!

Black Frost? He thinks Amelia is a crazy ho, but that's how he likes them
>>
>>42291964
Uriel isn't as Hama happy right. Mostly Physical and Fire correct?
>>
>>42291964
Cass noticed the poisoning going down? Was she always a closeted yaoi fan?
>>
>>42291989

That's right, he's all about the slashing and the burning. He does have holy attacks, but they're less potent than his fire spells.

>>42292018

She noticed, yes, since the air outside cleared.

>closeted yaoi fan

Of course not, she's a good Christian girl! Just, sometimes the mind reaches certain unavoidable conclusions.
>>
>>42292062
>unavoidable conclusions.

Suuuuuuuuuuuuuure. so how excited are our collective demons at taking both heaven and hell on?
>>
>>42292062
Are there any gun stores in London Moloch? Unless we get some magic weapon from Scathach our 'on the fly' enchanted pistol is our best alternative.
>>
>>42292155
>Forgot to finish my thought
Best ranged alternative and we are out of ammo.
>>
>>42292109

In general, pretty hyped. Ripper is in it for the ultraviolence, Eligor and Valkyrie are in it for the regular violence, and the rest are united under a strong leader.

>>42292155

Doubtful on the gun shops, but the police stations are probably the best bet. That's where she got her gun in the first place.



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