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“Wait!” you call out for them to hold, raising a free hand up for your allies to desist. Eve utters a phrase that causes the decanter of endless holy water to end its everlasting torrent. The vampire's corporeal form shrivels as it burns to ash under the effects of both the alchemist's fire and the divine waters.

The steam that rises, however, as the vampire seemingly perishes, quickly takes on a reddish tint. Soon, after a few prolonged seconds of observing it, the vapor bleeds into a dark, bloody-red hue, swirling in opposition to wind currents of the cool, night time, sea breeze. The mist begins taking shape, as if it was being sculpted by some unseen artist.

. . .

The skeletal apparition that appears before you cackles menacingly, before it commences floating up into the sky, retreating vertically from the alleyway you had the monster trapped in.

“Shit,” Quissonce utters. “That's a spell. I don't think it's dead.”

“What?!” Rowe shouts down from the rooftop, recoiling as the figure floats up past her.

“Gaseous form,” Ed yells up to her, cupping his mouth with his hands to amplify his already piercing voice. “Transmutation spell, makes him practically untouchable! I think it's natural though. Didn't see or sense him cast it.”

“Well, what the fuck are we supposed to do then?” Eve asks. “He's floating away!”

“We follow him to see where he goes!” you order, your inner cavalry commander rising to the forefront of your personality, magically bolstered by your resplendent general's coat. “We need to keep eyes on him and that requires taking to the air. Fly spells up!”

Ed, Quissonce and Eve quickly snap to carrying out your command. They each hit you, Rowe and Kyra with a dose of magic. As you feel the familiar sensation of your feet becoming lighter than air, you immediately ascend upwards, flicking on your Arcane Sight to peer out across the city as you crest above the skyline. You can sense Kyra floating up behind you as Rowe moves to your side. You instantly catch sight of that same roiling grey aura streaming in the vampire's wake.

You shoot off after it, both women following on your heels as your casters fall behind slightly, taking a moment to cast a second batch of Fly spells upon themselves.

Chasing the gaseous creature over the rooftops of Seaside, you trace the creature's path, even as it weaves between chimney stacks and dips low below buildings and beneath trees every so often. Every once in a while in your pursuit, you catch a glimpse of the distant, blood-red mist form your quarry has taken, but for the most part it's lead on you has grown large enough due to the ridiculous speed =it possesses in this state, that it reaches its destination a good fifteen seconds before you do.

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But you arrive at where the vampire fled all the same, unerring in your knowledge thanks to the lingering wisps of mystical energy that function like the most egregiously obvious of trails through the urban jungle.

The chase has led you to the waterfront district, by the beach. The grey aura slips between the crack in a boarded up window of a long abandoned warehouse, fallen in to disuse and made obsolete from the rapidly changing demographics and architectural needs of the burgeoning colony. You do a quick fly around to make sure the vampire has not exited through the back in an attempt to trick you. Sure enough, all around the building is clear save for the point of entry. Your vampire is inside this building.

(Perhaps this is its lair) Rowe thinks to you.

(You might be right.) You think back.

Eve, Ed and Quissonce arrive moments later, floating towards you until the six of you have formed a small huddle.

>Kyra and Rowe, sneak in and scout the place out
>Quissonce and Eve, level the building
>Let's head in as a group
>Something else? (write-in)

>>1205076
>Kyra and Rowe, sneak in and scout the place out

>>1205076
>>Let's head in as a group
Magic sight on. Have Rowe ready an arrow that Quissonce puts Light on. Alan spots, Rowe sticks the asshole with the arrow so he can't hide. Least for the moment.

Unless he is still gaseous in which case holy water his ass.

>>1205115
>>1205094

ye, this is better, switchin

Roll me 2d100, best of 3.

The first is a perception check, bonus of 40.

The second is a reflex check, bonus of 45.

Rolled 25, 37 = 62 (2d100)

>>1205300

Rolled 66, 28 = 94 (2d100)

>>1205300

Rolled 61, 31 = 92 (2d100)

>>1205300

>>1205330
>>1205573
>>1205598
>>1205300
Well...at least we see what's hitting us in the face?

>>1205614
clearly lady luck is being aloof tonight.

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“Alright, let's head in as a group. Kyra and I will take point. The rest of you stay back and stay prepared. If this vampire made this place it's lair it might have set up means to protect itself. Quissonce, can you cast a Light spell on one of Rowe's arrows. That way we can light the bastard up so he can't hide.”

“Don't worry Alan,” Rowe forces herself to speak out loud instead of think to you, to keep the rest of the group in the loop. “I know the spell. I can do it myself.”

Ed shakes his head. “We should all cast a light spell on a different arrows of yours. That way you have four to use in case we need to light up different areas of the warehouse.”

You point to your former roommate. “Good thinking.” One by one your casters float over to Rowe's quiver and tap one of her many arrows, imbuing three with a golden yellow glow that seems all the brighter through the lens of your Arcane Sight.

“Everyone ready?” you ask.

You receive a round of affirmative nods before giving them one final definitive nod. You all float down, landing on your feet simultaneously in front of the warehouse's wooden front door. It has begun to rot and fester, the top left corner having already been worn down enough for you to peer over and into the darkness of the large building's interior. You don't see anything, magical aura-wise or mundane. All you spy is inky pitch black darkness, made slightly less daunting by the glow of moonlight and light spells allowing you to see perhaps twenty feet inside before the overwhelming darkness takes root once more. You see planks of wood lying upon the floor, but other than that the warehouse is empty.

Examining the door itself, you are alarmed when you notice the handle glows dark blue, some magical enchantment emanating off the smooth metal knob. You lean back, holding up a hand for everyone to remain still. “This door knob has an enchantment upon it . . . necromantic,” you tell them, after studying it for a few seconds.

“Clearly a trap of some sort,” Quissonce whispers just loud enough for you to hear her from the back. Kyra steps forward, drops into a squatting position and inspects the handle for a few long seconds in complete silence. You wait for her to make some sort of decision, slightly anxious about the wait. She eventually pulls the hood of her cloak off her head, shaking her coal-black curls free. The thief draws a metallic tool out from a concealed location within her animal bone armor that appears to have a plethora of extendable components currently tucked in on themselves. With a dexterous flick of her wrist, she draws a single, long, sharp, needle-looking object with a slightly twisted end-bit at the tip. Placing one hand against the wall of the building to steady herself, she gingerly approaches the door handle with the device, careful to move slowly.

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You notice Quissonce frowning. “Is she sure she can – ”

“Quiet,” Kyra speaks the word harshly, maintaining the fluid grace of her movements. The wizard quickly shuts her mouth.

To your near disbelief, Kyra is able to gently insert the tool into the rotting wood of the door, digging out the wooden bits of foundation the handle is embedded in. With absolute precision and care she carves the knob out of the door without ever touching the metallic part. It falls forward, clattering to the ground and fizzling out in a purple spark of short circuited spell bits.

“Couldn't we have just used a window or something instead of spending so much time doing this?” Eve crudely asks.

The dark-skinned woman shakes her head. “No respect,” she mutters.

“Someone would have had to deal with it eventually anyway,” you point out. You ignore the banter and push the door open. Rowe casts a Light spell upon an arrow and fires it through the open portal, the arc of the arrow shining light on a nearby portion of the warehouse's interior momentarily before tinking against the far wall and dropping, serving as a bright beacon for you to approach as you enter.

With the trap on the front door dealt with and no other magical auras in sight as you peer inside, you step in boldly, taking point.

Click

You feel a depressing sensation – both literally and figuratively – emanate from under your feet as you step upon the ratty rug laid out in front of the door. Oh yeah! Mundane and non-magical traps still exist and you can't detect them.

“PRESSURE PLATE!” Kyra declares loudly, reaching in to grab you by the back of your collar. Unfortunately, she is a tad too slow to pull you out of the room as the large cage high up in the rafters containing the large cascade of heavy rocks up above your head tips itself over and the only recourse you're left with is to dive directly to the right to avoid being crushed to death. The dodge is ultimately successful at preserving your life as huge boulder chunks and a variety of dust, pebbles and refuse crash upon the floor directly in front of the decrepit warehouse's entrance, scattering across that area of the room and making traversing through that entryway much more difficult of an endeavor.

You don't escape completely unharmed. As you land hard on your elbows, a torrential rain of dust ends up covering your form and a single, solitary rock smacks right into your ankle, hard enough to cause you to seethe. The pain is intense enough that you'd guess, if you didn't have access to magical healing, your ankle would be sporting a swollen bruise for a good week or so, making you much less inclined to lean your weight on it. Your buffering cap also goes flying off your head, shaken loose from your scalp in the commotion of your sudden, uncanny dodge to safety. It sails through the air for a moment before landing and sliding a few extra inches before coming to a rest.

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You lie there for a moment.

“Are you alright?!” Rowe shouts.

“Yeah!” you call back.

“THAT'S IT! I'M GOING THROUGH A WINDOW!” the gnomish sorcerer screams.

Your eyes, still glowing blue from your arcane sight, spot your hat in the near darkness, partially illuminated by Rowe's loosed and temporarily enchanted arrow. But as you are about to begin crawling over towards where it sits, the sudden sound throughout the room of a series of heavy dropping down from the rafters is accompanied by faint pulses of gray you notice off in the pitch black areas of this widen open space. It is a familiar magical aura, one you've only seen before in Gilda's research library while viewing Anara and the other thralls.

To confirm your highly distraught suspicions, one last figure drops from the rafters, landing directly on top of your buffering cap, pushing in the soft pliable shape of it under the creature's feet.

This particular vampiric abomination standing only six feet away from you looks to be a hobgoblin, if you drained them completely of their reddish coloring, leaving them starkly pale before concentrating all that extra crimson directly into their eyes, until they glow red in the dark. It snarls at you, naked save for a pair of ripped sack-brown pants.

>Draw your holy symbol and keep the monsters at bay
>Wand of Fireball time. Light up the room entirely.
>Go invisible and hide
>Something else? (write-in)

>>1208080
>Draw your holy symbol and keep the monsters at bay
Time to do what Clerics do best. TURN UNDEAD!

>>1208080
>Draw your holy symbol and keep the monsters at bay
Let's have Eve start hosing the building down with holy water.

>>1208080
>Draw your holy symbol and keep the monsters at bay

>>1208204
>Let's have Eve start hosing the building down with holy water.
this, too

Roll me 2d100, best of 3.

First has a bonus of 12.

Second has a bonus of 29.

Rolled 7, 45 = 52 (2d100)

>>1209837

Rolled 68, 6 = 74 (2d100)

>>1209837

just caught up with the quest, the one thing i don't want to see ever again is NTR, i know that was along time ago but it still disgusts me now.

>>1209927
When was that? Legitimately curious.

>>1209927
NTR of MC?

or NTR of other characters BY the MC?

>>1210049
Both, whilst i don't mind the concept of a three some, i dislike it when people have sex with other people when they are in a relationship, especially if it can end in pregnancy.

>>1210034
thread 55

>>1210078
Fair
>>1210085
Did not see that, huh.

>>1210161
if something like that happens, i am going to puke, abandon this quest and probably tell everyone on this site and anonkun to stay away from anything the qm does if they don't like NTR, writing it once i can understand as an experiment, but twice you are pushing you're fetish into a quest.

Rolled 49, 91 = 140 (2d100)

>>1209837

>>1210207
>t. severe autist

>>1210453
1, have a reaction of server disgust to what is essentially reading a cuckold sex scene is natural reaction for most men, 2 Waring people about reading something like NTR is what some view as a duty has a decent person, 3 I have read quests where other weird fetishes like sissy have been pushed into and ruined the quest completely, finally wouldn't the word be autistic

>>1210502
Nigga I have no fucking clue what you're on about.

You can't honestly tell me you give half a shit about taking Gabby away from Kroll. The dumb fuckstick barbarian where in the entire relationship was based around having sex for both parties. Where she was taken to a relationship with people that actually care about her.

That was *hardly* NTR. Fuck that's more reverse NTR than NTR. That's not Trick projecting a fetish into the quest like you are deluding yourself into thinking. That was the last challenge in getting the girl for Wrenloft (that he almost failed btw).

In short: Kill yourself.

>>1210553
>>1210502
How about everyone just lightens up and nobody threatens anyone?

>>1210078
>i dislike it when people have sex with other people when they are in a relationship, especially if it can end in pregnancy.
>especially if it can end in pregnancy

So gay and lesbian NTR is more alright with you? This is important for an upcoming scene in the future.

>>1210655
>So gay and lesbian NTR is more alright with you? This is important for an upcoming scene in the future.
i am both intrigued and slightly worried.

>>1210693
>i am both intrigued and slightly worried.
*begins to hyperventilate*

>>1210655
i dislike ntr to begin with, this is like asking if i like a guy who set my car on fire more than a guy who set my car on fire and called me a retard, they both did something bad it's just one is slightly worse.
also who is getting ntr'ed this time?

>>1210727

Well . . .you know, a few people. Arguably two. Maybe more.

>>1210727
>just one is slightly worse.
The worse one seems to have a good judge of character.

>>1210760
is Alan one of those people? also right now even talking bout the fact that it's a possibility another ntr scene is coming up is making me feel a bit ill.

>>1210785
>is Alan one of those people?

Uh, y'know, going into detail would be a bit too spoilery.

It really depends on your interpretation, y'know?

Can't really confirm nor deny anything.

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You scrabble in the near darkness, rising to your feet as you fish out your holy symbol, brandishing it forward.

The creature's eyes go wide and it recoils, lifting its clawed hands in front of its face, screeching at the top of its lungs. Sheesh. These ones are much more disgusting and uglier than their master. Or perhaps you just can't appreciate the epitome of hobgoblin beauty. Your ears twitch as you hear the soft pitter patter of feet rushing towards you from behind.

You whirl around and see a dark shadow of a figure, its rapid movements through the space barely back lit by the light spell on Rowe's arrow still sitting against the far wall. Firing off a flare spell, you raise up your crescent moon talisman in the direction of the momentarily illuminated and pale, goblinoid thrall just as it leaps into the air, claws outstretched as it plans to pounce on yout.

Mid-leap, the revolting sensation that Calloway's symbol seems to divinely invoke in these monsters and the disorientation that occurs as a result of your successful attempt to magically blind it causes the small figure to shift, suddenly using its arms to cover its face rather than try to rend you limb from limb, even as it still sails through the air towards you.

You take a step backwards, out of harm's way, spinning into a roundhouse kick and planting your boot firmly in the goblin vampire's center of mass, knocking the beast into the nearby wall of the warehouse. It collapses down upon a wooden crate, which breaks easily from the weight of the small vampire's body.

In an instant you turn back towards the hobgoblin, already lunging forward to capitalize upon your distraction. You raise the holy symbol, stopping it in its tracks just a foot or two away from you. Instead of letting it recoil back to safety, you step forward and punch it in the face with your free hand. As it stumbles backwards you slip a vial of garlic oil out of your pocket and chuck it at the vampire's feet. The glass container breaks, splashing the scent in front of you as well as on the creature.

You slip a few more vials out and smash them on the ground directly in front of you, firing a few more flares out to illuminate the dark, showing a variety of orcish, hobgoblin and goblin vampiric thralls skulking in the shadows, climbing on the walls and ceiling like spiders. There are perhaps two dozen in all, each accompanied by a swirling grey aura of lingering magical infusion, all granted by their sire. They look to be Island natives, if you had to guess.

They snarl and hiss at you, upset by the divinity you channel, the light you use to pierce their dark abode and the garlic stench that wafts off from around your form.

You gulp.

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“Alan!” Rowe calls, startled by the screeching noises and sudden flashes of light. “What's going on in there?”

“Vampires! Lots of them!” you call back.

“Cast the fucking spell!” you hear Gabby demand from outside. When did she show up?

You hear Ed chanting something, before the rocks blocking the warehouse entrance to your left start shining a bright orange hue beneath the lens of your Arcane Sight. Your monk friend suddenly appears in the doorway, bull rushing into the largest, heaviest obstacle, grappling the nearly man-sized chunk of stone and pushing it forward with all her might. It scrapes the ground as every muscle in her tenses, her face reddening. The awesome display of strength bears fruit, clearing the way for the rest of your friends.

Rowe and, surprisingly, Du'kov, slip inside behind Gabby, both firing arrows of light into the warehouse, sending three more points of bright illumination arcing through the space.

Quissonce and Eve follow after them. The elven wizard points at the nearest vampire and utters a short incantation. As it concludes, you notice the orcish specimen she indicated in particular's swirling grey aura suddenly freezes in place, shaping itself into a bright pink one instead.

“Slay the other vampires!” Quissonce orders loudly in Orcish. The vampire she seems to have mind controlled leaps to attack the nearest of its brethren.

Eve, for her part, starts spraying and praying with her decanter, drenching anything and everything with holy water.

>Search for the head vampire
>Cast fireballs at the thralls
>Channel the last of your positive energy throughout the room
>Something else? (write-in)

>>1212219
>Search for the head vampire
>Cast fireballs at the thralls
Ah, the wonders of not expending spell slots.

Roll me 2d100, best of 3.

you can still vote for whatever you want, but there's really no reason not to just do the rolling now.

Rolled 94, 44 = 138 (2d100)

>>1212219
>Search for the head vampire
I'm worried about friendly fire in a closed structure like this.l, so I don't want to use fireball.

Rolled 41, 94 = 135 (2d100)

>>1212222
>>1212337
ditto

while finding the head vampire is priority, we could toss a fireball into a large mass of thralls away from our friends.

Rolled 97, 98 = 195 (2d100)

>>1212324
Just to round off the 3

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The vampires spring into action.

Gabby lifts up the man-sized boulder she had just tackled a few inches off the ground and slams it forward into the closest approaching vampire, letting go of it so the rock sails forward, tipping over and crushing the first undead monster underneath.

Slipping your keepsake from Father Calloway back around your neck, you draw out the wand of fireballs you stole from that asshole that used it to literally kill your girlfriend.

You point your wand forward as the shapes in the near dark rush forward in clumps and clusters towards your group. An orb of flame erupts from the tip and sails towards your incoming adversaries.

With your new-found ability to manipulate flame, you draw upon the surging power in your blood to mentally guide the magical fire – like an advanced form of Mage Hand – towards the epicenter of a large cluster of the vampiric thralls. It explodes into a fiery shower, engulfing a good six of them completely. They screech like distraught animals as they are immolated.

Instead of dwelling on the aftermath of your brutal and successful attack, you launch another fireball spell at another group of four, the blow back from the fiery explosion tossing debris into the air, hot wind cascading backwards, sending the loose clothing, cloaks and hair of you and your allies aflutter.

After that, Du'kov and Rowe begin loosing silver-tipped arrows down range, striking stragglers and the more stealthy ones before they can get the drop on anyone distracted by other foes. Quissonce casts a variety of buff spells on her undead minion while Ed bulks up, hefting a heavy-looking mace as the small goblin vampire you kicked earlier engages your Orcish roommate in melee.

While your allies are engaged with the small time monsters, you realize the master vampire might be escaping in the commotion, slipping away or who knows what. Leaving your team to face the rest of the pale thralls, you instead begin looking around the warehouse's floor for the head honcho.

You can't see him on this floor and, as a gaseous being, he could slip through the multitudes of cracks that spiderweb throughout this building's walls and foundation. However, you doubt your quarry has made his escape from this location through some secret exit quite yet. Aided by the arrows emanating light as well as the small bits of wooden refuse laying around, now burning bright, lit on fire because they were in proximity to the fireball spells, your keen senses detect an open stairway that seems to lead down, into a basement below the 1st floor.

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You trust your hunch on this one and make a dash for this staircase, emboldening your speed with a quick cast of Expeditious retreat. You pass by one vampire in particular who considers you close enough to be a threat, but as soon as he lunges to sink his fangs into your neck, a bottle of alchemist's fire collides with his face, setting the beast on fire. It flails and recoils, looking to put itself out and forgetting you completely.

You arrive at the beginning of the staircase. Straining your ears, you can hear the chanting of a single, powerful voice from down below. It possesses a familiar, sensual sound to it that you recall recently once spoke with charismatic, mind-dominating power.

That's the vampire you're searching for alright, chanting ominously underground. And whatever language he's speaking in right now, you can't understand it. Although the sounds of the syllables feel vaguely familiar. Enough so that a chill runs up your spine.

>Cast invisibility and sneak below
>Run in and start blasting fireballs
>Wait for your team to finish off the thralls
>Something else? (write-in)

And also roll me 2d100, best of 3

Rolled 72, 30 = 102 (2d100)

>>1212862
>Cast invisibility and sneak below
>Something else? Grab Eve and the Holy Water Decanter, and start flooding the basement with holy water as a distraction

Rolled 39, 79 = 118 (2d100)

>>1212862
>>1212862
>>Cast invisibility and sneak below
>>Something else? Grab Eve and the Holy Water Decanter, and start flooding the basement with holy water as a distraction
I like this.

Rolled 58, 50 = 108 (2d100)

>>1212865
this>>1212925

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Looking over your shoulder, you see your allies still tangled up with the remnants of the vampire's thralls.
Du'kov has dropped his bow, drawing his tribal sword and a smaller dagger as he is rushed by an undead hobgoblin, forced to engage it in melee. Two more flasks of alchemist's fire crash into the hordes of your foes. You see Quissonce has taken control of a second Orcish vampire, using both of them like bodyguards to keep the other, physically weaker vampires at bay. Ed seems to be pummeling his goblin opponent into mush while Gabby has what looks like one of those goblin-orc half breeds in a headlock, the creature scrabbling to escape the monk's muscular grip while Eve drenches its head with a direct blast of scalding holy water.

You whistle sharply, drawing the gnome's attention. Beckoning her forth, Eve sprints towards the stairs as Gabby begins tearing the head off of her grappled opponent.

She rushes to your position, liberally dumping divine waters every direction she possibly can as she does. “What's up Alan?” she asks, breathing hard from the intense burst of physical activity, her illusory, non-reptilian eyes still shining bright with excitement despite their glamoured existence.

You point down the stairwell. “I want you to start flooding the basement with holy water. Full blast. Don't stop. Can you do that for me, Eve?”

She nods, taking one hand off the decanter to give you a thumbs up. “You got it Alan!” She turns round and points the bottle down the staircase like she was pointing a rifle. You cloak your form in a magical full body mesh of invisibility, before descending deeper into your quarry's lair.

Drawing upon the training you've picked up from Kyra and that ninja Allant, as well as relying on the enhancing effects of your Cloak of Elvenkind which billows in the breeze behind you, you sneak down the staircase, drifting to the left side as holy water slicks and pours itself down the middle.

As you stalk deeper into the earth, the sound of the Vampire's chanting gets louder at the same rate your surroundings darken, much more distant from the various fires raging up above in the warehouse proper. The atmosphere becomes cooler as well, the sweltering heat conjured forth from the fireballs and burning alchemist's fire not having spread this far into the expansive building this climactic fight is occurring within.

Just as you believe you might have to conjure up some sort of light source out of your ass, the pitch black of the corridor you step into after reaching the bottom of the stairs proving too intolerably dark even for the elven eyeballs floating in the sockets of your skull, you see off in the far distance past stacks of old barrels that line the walls is a bright enough point of light to guide your way onward.

Divine water dribbles alongside you to your right, traversing the narrow downwards slope with ease.

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As you approach closer, you are able to glimpse a more accurate and informative picture of what this vampire is planning to do.

In a small chamber, seemingly carved out of rough stone, this whole lower area probably weakening the foundation of the entire waterfront warehouse, the raven-haired undead, now inhabiting his corporeal form again, stalks around a summoning circle enscribed with blood as he continues his chant. A dark red aura wafts off the entire room. You see an open coffin standing upright against the far wall of the chamber, a plush carmine interior that you assume is such an exquisite casket for purposes of comfort. The source of the light comes from multiple lit, black candles, intermittently dispersed throughout the room.

At the center of the summoning circle sits a large pile of jewelry.

You know this guy is bringing forth something from one of the other planes of existence, and you doubt this decor is the type an angel would appreciate.

Before you can act to prevent anything, all the candles blow out suddenly and even if you couldn't feel the sudden presence in the room, the dark red, emanating aura which pierces the pitch black darkness, originating from roughly the center of the enscribed circle, reveals that your vampire friend has been successful.

Something sinister has been brought forth from the deep, even if you can't precisely see it at the moment.

“Why have I been summoned, Vampire?” a new voice, inhuman and deep, demands in the common tongue, thankfully.

At the sound of this new development, you crouch lower, near-blind and slightly concerned you may be discovered soon.

“To deal with some interlopers,” the deceptively smooth tone of the blood sucker you've been hunting answers. There is an urgency to the timbre of his voice, but he suppresses it in deference to appearing courteous.

“Why should I assist you?”

“For we serve the same master, of course.” That comment draws your interest, keeping you rooted to the spot and straining your ears to hear every last detail.

“I do not serve your master. He may think himself a god all he wishes. He has no claims to the domains of Hell nor its vaults.”

“Not a god,” the currently faceless voice of the vampire corrects. “But a master of gods.”

“Then he's a master of naught but fools and pawns.”

“Assimilation approaches," the vampire switches subjects to you. It lives and breathes among the interlopers I beseech you slay.”

A pause.

“Terms?” the devil asks, sounding reluctant, but ultimately willing.

“Kill them all then do as you wish. You will be free. Are these acceptable terms?”

“Yes.”

“Then I leave you to – AH!” the vampire suddenly hisses. He mutters something under his breath. “It appears my lair is being flooded. A leak of some sorts. If you could go handle that problem with some expediency, I would sorely appreciate it.”

The dark red aura begins moving down the corridor towards where you are crouched.

>Remain silent, let the devil move past you
>Start shooting fireballs down range
>Retreat back upstairs
>Something else (write-in)

>>1215695
>Something else (write-in)
Slit the demon's throat and whisper in its ear "Assimilation arrives." Then remove its head and absorb whatever spellslots we can from it.

>>1215695
>>Retreat back upstairs
We need to get ourselves some magical weapons. What we have won't be able to do much against a devil.

>>1215695
i guess the question is whether or not the vampire has any means of escaping this lair. My impression is that it doesn't or can't, in which case, we could probably deal with the demon first.

go upstairs and coordinate a defensive

or we could attack the demon right now while falling back and by our allies more time to deal with the other pests.

if the vampire is using this opportunity to run away, he's likely going to be a pest in the future, so we may as well nip it in the bud and wait for the demon to pass or sneak past it in order to kill the vampire.

and since the demon is after us, we just to need to cause a loud enough commotion downstairs to catch it's attention so it won't go after our friends.

>>1215721
>>1215792
I did check our spell list, and we have Magic Weapon and Align Weapon.
Magic Weapon, while only a +1, can let our weapon get through Damage Reduction, and considering this is most likely a Devil, Align Weapon can make it Good and get past their Damage Reduction.

But this all assumes we can cast Cleric spells again. We may not, which means we'll need to fight conventionally to hold the devil down while Eve soaks him in Holy Water.

>>1215814
Scabbard makes your saber magic if you shout SCHWING

>>1215833
Sound effect or Wayne's World?

>>1215874
sound effect

>>1215893
Thank you!

>>1215874
what about wayne's world? i don't understand

>>1216036
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=szkgylvDYA4

>>1216038
my god, he's filthy!

So, engage the demon from behind? shall we do that?

Revote I guess

>Retreat back upstairs
>Remain silent, let the devil move past you
>Sneak attack the demon

>>1217257
>>Sneak attack the demon

>>1217257
>Retreat back upstairs

Roll me 2d100s as well

Rolled 44, 23 = 67 (2d100)

>>1217334

Rolled 64, 8 = 72 (2d100)

>>1217257
>Sneak attack the demon

Rolled 75, 41 = 116 (2d100)

>>1217334

we're gonna get pwned, aren't we?

File: Scabbard of Vigor.jpg (55 KB, 586x588)

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You sit and wait, forming your plan in your mind instantly. You can't precisely see your opponent in the pitch black of the corridor. But if your stealth and invisibility hold, he can't see you either. And you know exactly how to fight while blinded to your enemy's exact location, as Allant managed to teach you.

Holy water continues to trickle down the center of the hallway audibly enough for you to hear, the distant geyser erupting from the decanter the only real noise other than the devil strolling into prime position.

An assassin in the dark, you bide your time, a drop of sweat trickling down the side of your face as the darkly crimson aura lumbers closer, the soft padding of feet down the hallway indicating this creature at the very least has a form similar to that of a humanoid. Like the Barbazu or the Succubus.

Your hand drifts to your scabbard, fingers wrapping tightly around the hilt of your cavalry saber as your feet tense, ready to spring forward in a lightning strike ambush that will hopefully carve this Infernal devil to pieces before he has a chance to slay your friends.

. . . Wait for it.

Closer . . . Closer . . . NOW!

“SCHWING!” you shout, drawing your blade and dashing forward, both hands gripping the hilt tight as your blade glows a bright blue in the dark, the only real source of light as your weapon sinks deep into the devil's side.

Even as your attack strikes true, causing the denizen of Hell to seethe in pain, you feel the counterattack of a dozen needle-like spines stab into your arms, the agony almost unbearable as if many fire ants bit into your flesh all at once. You recoil, retreating as your back foot brushes up against one of the barrels lining the walls of this enclosed space.

You can feel rivulets of blood dribble down your arms.

The devil chuckles, although it comes across through teeth grit in pain from the grievous wound you just dealt it.


“I can see you now,” it tells you.

Shit. Your invisibility wore off with the attack. And you still can't see.

>Retreat
>Shotgun point blank
>Channel positive energy to heal yourself
>Something else? (write-in)

Rolled 29, 98 = 127 (2d100)

>>1217899
>>Shotgun point blank
>>Channel positive energy to heal yourself


also, make sure to roll 2d100s

Rolled 99, 60 = 159 (2d100)

>>1217899
>Channel positive energy to heal yourself
>Shotgun point blank

Rolled 1, 96 = 97 (2d100)

>>1217899
Have a nice 1

>>1217994
why must you do this to us?

>>1217994
You motherfucker! We would have had a 99 and a 98 without you.
And our buffering cap is still on the floor above us.

File: [softley]don't.jpg (13 KB, 500x287)

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>>1217994
>>1217899

Kek. Wow.

Well, here's the thing.

A crit fail on a 99 isn't as horrific as a crit fail with your highest number being a 43.

File: Shotgun.jpg (24 KB, 800x181)

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Sheathing your masterwork cavalry saber, you clutch tightly at the holy symbol hanging around your neck with your left hand, willing out a wave of positive energy. You make sure to not include the devil in your burst of healing because you don't think devils are hurt by positive energy, but you also ensure not to simply isolate the divine magic to yourself on the off chance the vampire decided to rush your position. You want to punish him if he gets too close and attempts to double team you with the devil.

As you feel the soothing magic work its way into your arms, suturing your wounds shut, you reach over your shoulder to grab the shotgun slung across your back, ducking low as you can feel the shift in the air as this monster takes a swipe at you. You can tell just by the reach of his attack that he isn't using any weapons other than what you assume to be natural, lengthy claws jutting from the infernal creature's fists.

Bringing the weapon to bear in this enclosed space, the close quarters of this situation would generally make utilizing a firearm as anything other than a particularly metallic cudgel a rather risky maneuver. However, with a cartridge of pellets loaded in your gun, successfully pulling the trigger will really put this motherfucker in a world of hurt. You take a sidestep, gaining some distance from a second swipe of the monster's claws, and push the barrel of your shotgun right into the face of the devil, feeling the resistance of his head as you press the barrel into it.

Gotcha!

You pull the trigger on your fancy, expensive, Roscoli firearm.

CLICK

SHIT!

The devil utters a quick chortle as your gun jams, and you feel his hands lunge forward and wrap themselves around the end of your firearm, wrenching hard. You feel him bend the metallic end of your gun with relative ease, hinting at the extent of your enemy's infernal strength. The weapon is completely ruined for the duration of this fight, the barrel now aiming straight up towards the ceiling, your gun comically resembling an upper case L now.

>Retreat
>Draw your Hell-forged glaive
>Assimilate and hope for the best
>Wand of Fireballs
>Something else? (write-in)

And roll me 2d100, best of 3.

Rolled 35, 97 = 132 (2d100)

>>1218660
>Retreat
Great. There goes our gun.

Rolled 7, 57 = 64 (2d100)

>>1218660
fallback while flinging some spells, like fireball or inflict serious wounds.

if we do draw our glaive, can we use the align weapon to channel good into it and hurt the demon? Because if so, I think we should also do that.

hey, guys, what can we assimilate from the demon? Strength?

>>1218895
We can't see him, though. I don't know if we can assimilate anything under these conditions, and I'd rather not try in the middle of a battle.

And honestly guys, if we want to go down this middle path where we assimilate some things but not EVERYTHING, we've got to curate what we're taking from here on out. And if it's going to include personality shifts, let's place a higher cost on assimilating evil shit we don't approve of.

So if there's a good power and a perfectly equal evil power, probably don't take the evil one. Make sure that if we do take an evil power that its gonna be really freaking worthwhile and not just another succubus kiss.

>>1219584
fair enough.

>>1219584
>>1218912

we also require one more roll

Rolled 3, 9 = 12 (2d100)

>>1218660

so, what spells should we toss at the demon?

File: Barbed Devil.png (684 KB, 690x934)

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Alright this isn't going as well as you'd hoped. You need back up and some light to see by. Thankfully your expeditious retreat is still active, so once you disengage by teleporting straight backwards fifteen feet towards the stairs, your turn around, and dash for the 1st floor.

Suddenly, much to your surprise, the dark red aura is in front of you again, blocking your path. You grimace, realizing this monster probably has the same propensity for teleportation that the other devils you've encountered possessed. The intense smell of rotten eggs that assaults your senses – brimstone really – seems to confirm as such.

Thankfully, you've still got a few teleports left up your own sleeve so you just rush towards him, disappearing in an instant right as he takes a swipe, reappearing in front, now at the bottom of the stairs.

You spin round, holstering your broken shotgun while drawing your wand of fireballs. Pointing the glorified stick forward, grasping it tight with both hands, you unleash a fiery blast down the narrow corridor. Your ability to finely manipulate the flames as well as the tight spacing making it nearly impossible for you to miss.

The entire basement hallway lights up as your fireball travels towards your target, finally letting you glimpse the form of your opponent. Now you know what the source of that counterattack was.

The infernal being is green from head to toe and every single bit of its anatomy appears sharp. Spines grow on its back, head, forearms, legs, feet, hands and even on the long spiky tail that flicks and swishes back and forth behind it like a cat. The grin it wears is frightening in how relaxed it seems despite the oncoming magical attack. You watch as the fiery orb collides with the devil, enveloping him completely in flame, you can tell he is unaffected by the blow even as the light in the lower hallway dissipates, shrouding your opponent in darkness once again.

So devils are immune to fire. You're keeping a mental note of that then. Spinning round, you pound up the stairs, your boots squelching in holy water. Eve gives you a little wave as you reach the top.

“Hey Alan do I need to keep flooding the basement?” she asks, smiling.

“No Eve, I think we're good,” you tell her rapidly, keenly aware that thing is still right behind you, inspiring you to hurry. Looking around, you see all the thralls have been taken care of for the most part, stakes being shoved through hearts to incapacitate the various monsters completely, even as they regenerate from their wounds and burns.

You clap your hands and whistle sharply, getting everyone's attention. “Devil incoming!” you shout to them, informing them as to the specifics of the situation.

“He's spiky.”

>Align weapon (which?)
>Any specific battle plans with your whole crew? (write-in)
>Something else? (write-in)

And roll me 2d100, best of 3.

Rolled 67, 86 = 153 (2d100)

>>1221632
>Something else? (write-in)
Arrow of Law maybe?
If we can't, then glaive the devil.

Rolled 46, 88 = 134 (2d100)

>>1221632
>Align Weapon (Glaive)
This'll be interesting, a Hell-made weapon being aligned to Good.

>Battleplan
Alan engages the Devil in melee.
Gabby throws whatever she can at the Devil, but stays away from melee. If she has to, get drenched in holy water and dip bandages on her fists in holy water.
Rowe and Dukov are to fire silver arrows, Rowe using whatever magic ones she can.
Eve tries to drench the Devil with holy water and not let up.
Quissonce and Ed to fire whatever magic they got; no fire spells.

If Quissonce's mind-controlled thralls are still up, have them flank the Devil with Alan.

Rolled 32, 12 = 44 (2d100)

>>1221759
supporting

File: Glaive.jpg (3 KB, 256x192)

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Drawing your hell-forged glaive out of your efficient quiver, you immediately set to performing the most ironic magical enchantment upon it possible – blessing it to thrum and shine with the Holy power of the high Heavens utilizing for your focus of the spell the ancestral keepsake of a man who lost his life to a Devil brandishing the exact style of weapon you're currently empowering.

A whiff of brimstone assaults your senses as the barbed devil appears in the middle of the warehouse, peering around at the lot of you, chuckling.

“Oh my,” Quissonce calls out. “A Hamatula.”

“Gabby, Du'kov,” you shout. “Don't engage in melee. Shoot it, throw rocks at it, whatever you think is best but don't get close.”

(Rowe shoot it with as many magic arrows as you can.) you think to your girlfriend.

(Same shit I do every night.) she thinks back sarcastically as she nocks three arrows in her bow.

You charge the monster, stabbing forward with your glaive. It attempts to catch your weapon with its claw, but it does not expect your enchantment and thus the hardened spines and scales of its body fail to prevent the edge of your polearm's blade to sink into the flesh between its knuckles. The devil hisses.

The distance from the monster this weapon allows you to engage from preserves you from risking being hurt by any defensive shoulder checks or arm bars that might otherwise skewer your flesh.

“Eve blast it with the decanter. Quissonce, Ed no fire spells!” you command while you wrench your weapon out from your foe's hand, holding the weapon behind your back an horizontal as you watch it, waiting for the counterattack.

As Eve fires off a torrent of water at your foe, however, the water seems to pass right through it and the image of the creature you were fighting disappears.

You furrow your brow, confused. That was an illusion of some sorts? Your confusion is slightly alleviated when two more of these Hamatula appear, the stench of rotten eggs growing thicker and starting to overpower the hazy smell of burning wood and vampiric flesh that dominated the large room's atmosphere moments earlier. One of them pop into existence right behind Rowe and Du'kov who happened to be standing right next to each other.

(Oh shit!) Rowe's mind blurts as she dives out of the way with the reflexes of a soldier who works best at range and knows never to get caught in a melee.

Du'kov, unfortunately, is slightly slower. Your squire is grabbed by the barbed monstrosity, instead of merely swiped or stabbed. He howls in pain, spines sticking into him from all around as he struggles against the powerful and crushing grip of his ambusher.

The other Hamatula poofs into being behind Eve. This one employs a much similar tactic to the one grappling Du'kov, except Eve proves a much easier target to bearhug. She drops the decanter to the ground – the holy waters still gushing out – and yowls as spines pierce her robes and sink deep into her flesh.

File: Dire Rat.jpg (36 KB, 483x503)

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As if that's not enough bullshit, an enormous swarm of thousands of rats begins pouring up out of the basement from the stairs. They squeak and chitter, surging like an amorphous gelatinous thing oozing and undulating across the floor. They rush towards Gabby who has just now lifted a large rock over her head in preparation to chuck it. She glares down at the rodents as they approach with the look of a woman perplexed.

>Assist Eve
>Assist Du'kov
>Something else? (write-in)

And roll me 2d100, best of 3

Rolled 85, 43 = 128 (2d100)

>>1222405
>Assist Du'kov
Eve may be a caster compared to Du'kov, but Du'kov is also lower level.

Rolled 18, 50 = 68 (2d100)

>>1222405
>Assist Du'kov
Yell to Eve "We gotta make sure the weaker guys survive. Hang on!" So that she knows we aren't abandoning her.

>Eve may be a caster compared to Du'kov, but Du'kov is also lower level.
I said this before, but then I remembered that Eve is a gnome (though has started to express her Dragonborn traits) and Du'kov is half orc/elf.

Does Eve's higher level and Dragonborn ancestry leave her with higher hitpoints? Unfortunately, it's not something we can just look up.

Rolled 8, 24 = 32 (2d100)

>>1222407
>Assist Du'kov

>>1222667
>"We gotta make sure the weaker guys survive. Hang on!"
well, let's not say that he's weaker.

Just say "Hold on, Eve! I need to get Du'kov!"

>>1222723
Actually, also mention to Eve that she should go dragon form for this.

by the way, here's an idea.

if the decanter is still pouring out water, cast fireball at the puddles repeatedly so that we have a mist of holy water in the room.

>>1222893
>>1222887
also, if eve does break out and turns into a dragon, have her spray the holy water everywhere and vaporize it.

File: Du'Kov.jpg (55 KB, 564x789)

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Tunnel vision sets in as your squire is perforated from a hundred different infernal stab wounds. You know Eve. She's a tough cookie bundled into a small package. Despite the initial assumption someone who may not know her might make about her frailty – especially compared to someone more robust-looking like Du'kov – you know Eve can take a hit. Or a spiky hug, in this specific case.

Dashing across the warehouse, pumping ki into your feet and legs to cross the distance faster, you level the point of your glaive at the devil grappling the orc you're meant to be mentoring, not getting killed.

Drawing upon your magical, wizardly aptitude to teleport once more, you traverse the last fifteen feet of ground between you and your intended target.

With deft precision your thrust forward your temporarily blessed weapon, piercing the barbed devil's hide while simultaneously wedging the length of your weapon in between your Mountain Rider tribe assistant and the Hamatula. The creature hisses in pain as you can hear the blade sizzle, releasing your friend, which allows him to stumble forward and collapse on the ground, bleeding profusely and barely conscious.

Righteous fury overtakes you as you realize that this monster has grievously wounded your friend, nearly killing him. With a grunting shout of anger you step forward, pushing your polearm further into the devil's body until you feel the blade slide through all the sinewy, fleshy resistance and emerge on the devil's other side, drenched in diabolic blood. Skewered like a shiskebab and doomed to an imminent death, the Hamatula focuses the last of its energy left on this plane of existence in an attempt to kill you. Stepping forward, it impales itself further on your weapon, closing the distance between you before lashing out with a barbed claw that manages to puncture your collarbone. You feel bones crumple as unbearable pain spreads out from the point of impact in an explosion of sensation. You see your lifeblood spurt out from the wound, staining your mythral shirt and General's coat red as well as the haft of your glaive and a section of the warehouse floor.

Your adversary manages to utter one last laugh as it prepares to stab further and end your life, before Kyra's katana slices through its neck from behind, severing its spiky, grinning head from its equally sharp and green body. Decapitated, the devil sinks to its knees as it already starts to dissipate. Dropping your glaive for the moment, one hand goes to apply pressure to your life-threatening wound, stymieing the blood flowing down your neck as you spin round to take in the rest of the battle.

I think it's time we upgraded our equipment.

File: Vampire.jpg (564 KB, 1505x1100)

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Even though your vision is hazy and woozy, you see the other Hamatula has successfully performed a much similar maneuver to the one you just did on its brother to Eve. Five long spikes stick out through the sorcerer's chest, their origin coming from the devil's fist which he has pressed into the Gnomish woman's back. Her spinal column must be severed and several internal organs are either shredded or ripped apart utterly. She coughs and splutters up blood, dribbling down her chin.

Quissonce screams at the top of her lungs as she is already in the process of rushing towards the devil killing her friend. The silver-haired woman leaps into melee range, grabbing a hold of Eve's shoulders. Both of them disappear in an instant, leaving the barbed outsider standing there holding nothing. The confused expression forming on his face is interrupted as Gabby hurls a boulder that crashes into its face, sending the devil stumbling backwards from the force of the impact.

You notice as Ed finishes summoning a woolly rhinoceros, an animal he quickly orders to gore the sole remaining devil.

Your lover, Rowe, has cast some sort of spell, the verdant green aura that emanates off her form making you suspect, even in your rapidly deteriorating state, that the source of this magic comes from the nature domain of Gaea's Warden. The roiling wave of rodents have lost their aggressive vigor and now appear quieted and docile. They disperse, fleeing and retreating from the large bonfires raging all around you.

Looking down towards Du'kov, lying unresponsive in a growing pool of his own blood, you guide your collapsing, dying form to land beside him. Clutching desperately at your neck, vision going black, you grasp the half-melted object tight and channel a burst of positive energy to save you and your squire's life simultaneously.

As you feel the deathly affects of you blood loss lessen after the divine feeling washes over you, you are also filled with a sense of relief. Refusing to stop there, considering the extent of yours and Du'kov's wounds, you channel a rapidfire release of every remaining ounce of burst healing you can squeeze out of your bones.

“Uhhhh,” the teenaged tribal orc groans as he gets his hands under him to push his upper body up off the ground, out of his own blood.

Looking up from where you lie, you see the other Hamatula being feathered with arrows and pelted by random bits of debris as it leaps upon the rhino that has attempted to gore it, returning the attempt in kind by grappling the quadruped and shanking it repeatedly.

While the rest of your remaining team focuses on that altercation, your arcane sight detects a roiling grey swirl of an aura coming up the stairs. Eventhough your eyes don't see the physical form of the creature you now assume has gone invisible.

It's the head fucking vampire, back for round two.

>Fireball that vampire
>Toss your hell-forged glaive to Gabby
>Something else? (write-in)

>>1225728
>>Fireball that vampire
>>Toss your hell-forged glaive to Gabby

>>1225728
>Even though your vision is hazy and woozy, you see the other Hamatula has successfully performed a much similar maneuver to the one you just did on its brother to Eve. Five long spikes stick out through the sorcerer's chest, their origin coming from the devil's fist which he has pressed into the Gnomish woman's back. Her spinal column must be severed and several internal organs are either shredded or ripped apart utterly. She coughs and splutters up blood, dribbling down her chin.
fuck. I hope quissonce has healing spells for that and does it quick.

Damn it, I'm really regretting not choosing to save Eve.

>>1225728
>Toss your hell-forged glaive to Gabby
>Fireball that vampire
We need a Wand of Magic Missiles, better armor, and better weapons.

Since you're going to do both, I want you to roll . . .

you guessed it!

2d100, best of 3.

Rolled 57, 50 = 107 (2d100)

>>1225751

Rolled 47, 20 = 67 (2d100)

>>1225751
I wonder if Eve will get to a healer in time, or if she's dead.

>>1225728
Tell Gabby to take the hell glaive, just so we make it clear and she goes to get it in case we don't throw it far enough.

>>1225751
I noticed that we still have a quarterstaff in our quiver; can we pull it out after tossing the glaive to Gabby?

>>1225773
yeah

Rolled 7, 86 = 93 (2d100)

>>1225751

>>1225776
Can we delegate which rolls go to which action?

>>1225784
Eh sure. I'm too tired to update and am going to sleep soon.

so, guys, should we make sure that gabby gets the glaive with the 86?

>>1225794
I dunno, a badly directed fireball could be even worse, since we're out of Cures and we don't have another healer.

>>1225922
we really should have gotten dolah to come along.

>>1225751
When you call for 2 dice, do you count the best sum or do you count the first and the second independently?

>>1228336
Independently

File: Ed.jpg (35 KB, 270x330)

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Adrenaline pumping through your veins, you scramble across the floor on all fours, grabbing your glaive off the ground and looking towards your monk friend.

“Gabby!” you shout. She glances to you as you toss her the pole-arm. Reaching out, she captures it in a meaty fist before immediately transitioning into a three hundred and sixty degree spin, hurling the enchanted weapon with deadly accuracy at the barbed devil as she finishes the maneuver.

While the weapon is still mid-flight, you draw your wand and shoot a fireball out, aimed at the general area you believe the vampire is standing in based upon the highest concentration of his swirling grey aura.

You see a white spark emit itself from the grey aura, arcing towards your outgoing fireball. As the white bolt of mystical energy collides with your conjured ball of flame, both forces suddenly wink out of existence, as if they were complete and total opposites, nullifying each other.

Your fireball has fizzled out, you realize in shock, without nary an effect on the environment – not even a momentary change to the temperature.

At the same time that occurs, Gabby's expert toss bears fruit. The thrown glaive does not merely skewer the Hamatula. It slams into the monster with enough force to pin it against the nearby wall. Ed's summoned rhinoceros, lying on its side and bleeding, returns to whatever plane of existence it was drawn from while the barbed devil scrabbles at the divine implement lodged in its midsection, the savage quality of its futile efforts amplified by its screeches and the sizzling sound emanating from the grave wound.

A moment later the devil's death throes cease and it slumps forward, dissipating as it goes back to Hell, leaving your weapon still sticking out of the wall.

“SUBMIT!” you suddenly hear the vampire command, the sultry sound of his voice tingling the back of your mind, urging you to comply. While you manage to muster the mental fortitude to resist the compulsive enchantment, some of your friends are not.

Ed falls to his knees and Du'kov sees fit to not rise up from where he is lying on the ground. Even Rowe's arms shake, lowering down to her sides as she releases her bowstring, a fearful expression plastered to her features.

(Alan I can't move!) she thinks at you, panicking.

Only you and Gabby seem to be unaffected by his voice. Well, perhaps Kyra as well, but you have no idea where she is right now. Perhaps she's paralyzed out of sight.

You throw out another fireball, only for the same white spark to appear out of nowhere and counter it again.

You grimace, stalemated as Gabby glances around, eyes peeled. “Can you see him, Al?” she gruffly asks.

“I can see his aura. He's over by the staircase,” you explain.

The tall, blonde-haired woman growls low in her throat.

>Rush for the decanter of Endless Holy Water
>Glitterdust the son of a bitch so you can get a good look at him
>Something else? (write-in)

>>1228576
>POCKET SA-I mean Glitterdust him while you rush the Decanter

>>1228592
ditto

>>1228576
>Glitterdust the son of a bitch so you can get a good look at him

File: A fucking Dragon.jpg (14 KB, 250x302)

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Pounding across the floor, your rush for the decanter as you stretch out your arm towards the vampire, speaking the incantation and letting the glitterdust fly out, a spiraling shower of golden particles.

The dust lands and explodes outwards, coating a small area of the still-burning warehouse in the stuff. You see a vague, shimmering outline of what appears to be you foe holding up his cape to protect his face and prevent being struck momentarily blind by the flashy particles. He lets his cape fall back into place as you teleport to the decanter.

Gabby, upon seeing exactly where the vamp is, rushes towards him, prepared to beat him into submission.

Right as she closes the distance – getting within clobbering range – the vampire reacts to her charge.

A very similar red aura that you've seen multiple times shimmering off the wand you keep on your person begins to glow from the golden motes of light that cover the vampire's hand. You gasp, realizing he's about to unleash a fireball point blank into your friend's face.

Forgetting the decanter for a moment, you prepare yourself to hopefully redirect the flame spell at least slightly to perhaps save Gabby's life by knocking the explosion off course.

You never get the chance.

Suddenly, betwixt Gabby and the vampire, Quissonce reappears, holding onto a man-sized red dragon, the flapping beat of her wings sending ash, smoke and embers aflutter throughout the warehouse.

“AND I'M BACK!” Eve screams, before unleashing a torrent of flame from her mouth that engulfs the vampire entirely, annihilating him before he can cast his spell.

Immediately, as he retakes his mist form and drifts back down the stairs to the basement, Ed, Rowe and Du'kov burst back into unfettered movement, all of them shaking their limbs to ensure they've become mentally free of the vampire's influence.

“Oh no you fucking don't!” Gabby bellows, drawing a wooden stake out from between her cleavage and marching down the stairs. “Give me some light Eve!”

“You got it!” she says enthusiastically, the tone of her agreement much more odd a sound when coming from a set of lungs that produces much deeper and growling sounds. She picks up a burning plank of wood and flies below, following after the blonde.

Quissonce and Ed begin extinguishing the various fires that have spread throughout this chaotic melee. Concerned about the building burning down yourself, you pass off the decanter to Du'kov, ordering your squire to assist the wizards in the clean up efforts. Afterwards, you set off for the basement with Rowe and Kyra – the latter of which you notice is flexing her fingers and seems a tad on edge.

By the time the three of you catch up to Gabby, she's already ripped off the lid to the coffin, punched the raven-haired undead in the lip and shoved a stake up in between his ribs, twisting it as she does for good measure, but mostly out of sadistic spite. He freezes in place, entering a state of false death.

File: Skull Necklace.jpg (30 KB, 600x429)

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“And now I'm going to ruin his fucking clothes because fuck him,” Gabby declares, grabbing his finery and tearing the expensive, fancy outfit to pieces with her bare hands.

Throughout this process, Eve sets aside the vampire's magical equipment: the cloak he was wearing, a headband, and one of his jewel-encrusted rings.

“Oh fuck!” the monk exclaims, taking a tentative step backwards as she exposes the pale flesh of his chest to the open air. This rare moment of genuine terror from the most bullheaded member of your party grabs the rest of the group's attention like almost nothing else on this island possibly could. Gathering around the coffin, your various allies utter noises of surprise at the object they see. Although to you, it's just further confirmation of what you suspected from overhearing him speak before.

A silver skull necklace hangs around his neck. Just like the one possessed by that dark warrior you slew at the climax of the siege of Seaside.

(Another servant of the master.) Rowe thinks, resentfully.

“Wait a minute . . . this guy's a human!” Eve points out in surprise, extending one draconic claw.

Kyra shrugs. “Another sailor?” she guesses.

“You talking about the men who went overboard?” you clarify.

Kyra nods in response. “Recruited one. Why not the others?”

Gabby snorts, finding her courage again. “So there's one asshole left.”

“Well, one asshole left of the three men who fell off the boat during that storm and work for the Master,” Rowe remarks. “There are plenty of unrelated assholes still out there.”

You're left gazing at the evil symbol and the corpse's body for a few more minutes before Du'kov, Ed and Quissonce finish with their task upstairs.

They come to join you and are quickly filled in on everything you've found out. Ed humorously shoves your Buffering cap onto your scalp, covering your eyes for just a moment, unsuspecting as you are of the sudden 'attack'. He then takes your shotgun from you, promising he can probably fix it up with a little elbow grease and a lot of magic. Your squire hands back the decanter of endless holy water, after reporting to you of his success in the task you gave him.

Quissonce does a quick once-over of the magic items, before revealing her findings to the rest of you. “The cloak improves one's resistances to various ailments, both mental and physical. The ring aids in protecting one from physical harm. And the headband increases the natural charisma of its wearer.”

>Exchange your Headband of Mental Superiority for the Headband of Captivating Charisma
>Exchange your Cloak of Elvenkind for the Cloak of Resistance
>Take the ring of protection
>Pass on taking any of the magic items

AND

>Any specific plans about how to proceed? (write-in)

>>1230046
Thank the gods Eve's still alive.


Trick, can we get a few stats on these new items before we choose them?

>Any specific plans about how to proceed? (write-in)
Do some heavy lifting on the coffin and bring his ass over to the morgue with the rest of the vampire bodies.

Chat with some of the group along the way, too, i guess.

Like, talk to Eve and express how thankful we are that she's still alive and kicking.

Also check on du'kov and see how he's holding up after his first mission with us.

>>1230046
Hey Trick, the pastebin isn't working again. Is it me or the site?

Also:

Have Rose take the Ring of Protection
Have Eve take the Cloak of Resistance
Have Gabby take the Headband of Captivating Charisma

>>1230165
Masterwork Backpack // 4 lbs
Soldier's Uniform // 5 lbs
Resplendent Coat // 5 lbs`(+1 Charisma, Inspires others to heed your orders)
Alig's Talisman // 0 lbs
Calloway's Necklace // 0 lbs
Spellbook // 3 lbs
Canteen // 1 lbs
Deathless Mythral Shirt // 10 lbs (+5 to AC, Resistant to Negative Energy)
Familiar Satchel // 6 lbs (Contains 1 Muffin)
Cloak of Elvenkind // 1 lbs (+10 to Stealth)
Ring of Mental Shielding // 0 lbs (Immune to mind reading, aura detection and magical lie detecting)
Headband of Mental Superiority // 1 lbs (+1 Charisma, +1 Intelligence, +1 Wisdom)
Buffering Cap // 1 lbs (Converts a lethal blow into non-lethal)
Wand of Fireballs // 0 lbs (17 charges)

>>1230046
also, would it be possible for us to assimilate the magical qualities within the items? Can we attempt it?

>>1230165
>Is it me or the site?

I think its you.

>>1230173
You could learn the magic behind the item but you couldnt have the item's benefits.

>>1230129
on top of things to chat about,

see how gabby had the idea to come in later. I want to see if that subconscious link I was rambling about actually works.

>>1230174
>>1230169
Thank you!

>>1230165
I do wonder if giving the cloak of resistance or the ring of protection to gabby may be better, since she was about to run into a fireball and get roasted.

Then again, I Eve also got punctured this time around. I don't know.

>>1230046
Pass on the magic items.
Charisma should go to Dolah because Gabby doesn't have abilities that use it but Dolah does.

We need to search this place, get everything, then have all the vampires transported to the Archive for research and destruction. Also to have the Master's necklace contained. And brief Blackwood on the Master continuing to attack Seaside, just using more subtle methods.

>>1231668
I think we should just let them decide which ones they'd like to have and leave it at that.

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“I'll pass on the magic items,” you state.

Rowe turns to Quissonce. “So would resistance to a mental ailment include magical mind control?”

The wizard nods. “Yes. I'd believe so.”

The half-elven scout lashes out with greedy hands, grabbing the vampire's cloak. “Taking it, unless anyone wants to fight me for it.”

When no one speaks up, she interprets the lack of verbalized dissent as consent. The silver-haired elf coughs before picking up the jewel-encrusted ring, letting it shine in the firelight as she turns it around in her fingers, inspecting the object. “Since Gabby is the one throwing herself into melee the most often of our group with the least number of alternatives, I propose she take the ring of protection.”

Again no arguments are made against the proposition. Gabby opens her hand and Quissonce underhand tosses her the ring, which the monk catches effortlessly before slipping it onto a finger.

“How about the headband?” Eve chimes in. “I already have one exactly like it, so I don't need it.”

You nod. “I'm already wearing something I prefer over it.”

Rowe shrugs. “No one else really seems to need it. I mean I could use it, but it wouldn't feel right taking two things.”

“Well I think Dolah could use it,” you point out. “Rowe, why don't you take it for now and then hand it over whenever she return.”

Gabby chuckles. “Mission” she says, making air quotes with her fingers, the ring of protection already a glinting eye-catcher on her hand.

“Alright,” you continue, now that the spoils are taken care of, “We should search the entire place, top to bottom. See if there's anything we missed.”

Kyra raises her hand. “On it.” She turns around and walks away.

“We also need to get the vampires transported to the Research Library so Gilda can decide what to do with them. And we'll need to have the Master's necklace contained and quarantined like with the last one we encountered.”

Ed and Quissonce share a look before volunteering to handle that. Ed moves to lift the coffin and Gabby assists him holding it from the other side. The two of them guide it through the passageway back up to the 1st floor, Quissonce moving ahead of them to establish contact with the Archiver and her assistants this late at night.

“Lastly,” you say. “Someone needs to head to the Overseer's Complex, inform Blackburn about what's transpired and tell him that the Master is still a thorn in our side.”

“Easy enough,” Eve replies. “I'll go do that.”

You furrow your brow. “You sure, Eve? You alright after what happened?”

She snorts, smoke pouring out through her nostrils. “Sheesh, I'm fine. I'm not exactly the 1st person in the group to have a near death experience.”

“Still. I'm glad to see you're alive and kicking.”

She flashes you a smile that, considering her form, looks rather menacing, before she flits off to contact the Overseer.

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You walk over to Du'kov and place a hand on his shoulder. “So I believe that was our first official mission together. How are you holding up?”

He frowns. “Very tough. I feel merely burdensome.”

You shake your head. “You were fine. Things were hectic. None of us saw devils coming.”

Rowe nods in agreement. “That was one of the more difficult scraps we've gotten into. You did well, all things considered.”

Du'kov reluctantly accepts your praise. “I will help the others with the undead.” With that he takes his leave of you.

Left alone in the basement with just your lover, you quickly slip out your ring of mental shielding and place it back upon your right ring finger. “I think tonight was pretty successful. How about you?” you ask her.

(Yep. We stopped the vampire attacks and inadvertently dealt a blow to the Master. Plus, you regained your divine powers.)

Rowe offers a tight smile. You cradle Calloway's necklace in your hand, lifting it up to look at it more clearly. “Yeah,” you say, sighing with relief. Now that things have calmed down, you can really take a moment to appreciate the significance of that revelation. You suspicions that your connection to the faith was permanently severed have proven to be unfounded.

The two of you stroll down the hallway together at a leisurely gait in the aftermath of such an intense battle. Rowe fiddles with the headband as you walk.

(Increases the natural charisma of whoever wears it, eh?) she thinks, not really expending much effort to shield the thought from you.

As you start to ascend the stairs back up to the 1st floor, she puts on the ruby-studded item, wiggling it into place around her forehead.

She turns to you once you've reached the top, smiling mischievously. (Well. How do I look, Alan? Any different?)

It takes you a moment, but . . . yeah, she looks different. It's a hard change to detect, but something in the way she carries herself and how her expression seems to pop, vibrant, alive and alluring . . . it captivates you. Her grin is suggestive in intricate ways it never has seemed to be before. Her hazel eyes shine with implications and assertiveness. The simple cock of her hip and the arms she folds across her chest scream confidence and ooze sexuality.

Everything about her that you've always found attractive before appear magnified and mastered specifically to appeal to your tastes. If it were anyone else other than her, you might honestly be a little terrified of the enhancing effect of the magical item she wears. It is surprisingly potent.

You stammer slightly. “R-rowe you look . . .” you struggle to think of the right words. Fantastic? Gorgeous? They all seem to fall flat, too narrow to encompass the whole package.

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Her smile widens at your momentary loss of what to say. Just as you think you've concocted the most eloquent phrase in your mind to describe exactly what you mean, Gabby comes out of left field and throws her arm around your shoulder, looking Rowe up and down with a lascivious gaze.

“You look fucking hot, Rowe!” the monk bluntly opines. Both you and your girlfriend are startled by the interruption. You quickly laugh it off, but Rowe blushes slightly, looking a tad awkward.

“T-thanks, Gabby,” she accepts the compliment with as much grace she can muster, rubbing her upper arm.

You look over to the tall woman hanging off of you, her sudden appearance reminding you of something that piqued your curiosity.

“Hey Gabby,” you begin. “How did you know where we all were?”

She scoffs. “Saw you flying over the city. Figured it was go time and picked up the orc kid you and Rowe adopted.”

Hmmm.

>Ask Gabby what she thinks of the telepathic bond you and Rowe share
>Move on
>Something Else? (write-in)

>>1232919
ok, I kind of want to know.
>Ask Gabby what she thinks of the telepathic bond you and Rowe share

but other than that.
maybe we should suggest to our team a short vacation to the beach before going off on that treasure hunting expedition?

>>1232925
>ok, I kind of want to know.
>>Ask Gabby what she thinks of the telepathic bond you and Rowe share
or, rather, maybe we should ask this when rowe's not around?

also, we can use the day at the beach to do things like teach Du'kov how to swim.

one thing that occurred to me...
with our assimilation ability, we're able to gather up skills and traits from others, and then pass them on to people.
Does this apply only to the things we've picked up by assimilation or anything we've learned in our lives regardless of whether we've assimilated it before?

>>1232919
also, next time we're together with gabby and rowe, we should totally take turns with that headband.

>>1232919
>Something else: have Gabby try on the Charisma Headband, then Alan.
It's a good enough effect that the three of them should share it before it goes to Dolah.

I'd like to try it in the bedroom, but I don't think Dolah would want it after that.

>>1233795
eh, we can change our minds on giving it to dolah or not.

>>1232931
this

“Hey Rowe,” you ask, grabbing her attention. “Can I see that headband for a second?”

She furrows her brow, before slipping it off her head and handing it to you. Immediately afterwards, you proffer the object to Gabby with a quirked eyebrow, eliciting a dark chortle from her as she takes it from your hands.

You notice Rowe frowns as the monk lets go of you, takes a few steps back and places the headband atop her own crown, the rubies glowing bright for a mere moment before they assume their regular duller sheen once more. Gabby smiles licentiously, putting her hands behind her head and raising up her elbows. “Fawn over me,” she orders.

You, uh, do as she asks, eyes running up and down her form. Her satisfied smirk at your ogling only spurs you onward. That is, until –

(Really Alan?) the thought strikes into your mind, crystal clear. You shift your gaze – reluctantly – to that of Rowe, the peeved expression on her face having deepened over the past couple seconds. Suddenly her arms folded across her chest and her cocked hip take on a much less sexual and much less pleasant appearance.

“Uh, guys?” Gabby suddenly asks, noticing the silence and the fact that the two of you are staring at each other. “Everything alright?”

Rowe sighs out a little, looking to the monk. “Everything's fine,” she assures her.

Gabby's eyes narrow. “Didn't look fine a second ago.”

Rowe rolls her eyes. “Don't worry about it!” she spits slightly harsher than you think is necessary.

Gabby grits her teeth, ripping the headband off her head and tossing it to you. She then raises her hands in surrender.

“Fine. Fuck it! You two can have your little mental shitfit. I'm going home.” Gabby turns on her heels and stomps away out the warehouse door. Ed and Du'kov look up from where they're about to pick up another vampire body, take notice of the sudden spat, before returning to their task while willfully ignoring what's going on at the moment.

You look to your girlfriend, distressed. “Did you have to do that?”

(Do you have to involve Gabby in every single, little moment between us?)

>Yeah, kinda
>You're overreacting
>Go after Gabby
>I'm sorry
>Something else? (write-in)

>>1237770
>I'm sorry

>>1237770
>>I'm sorry
Finally Rowe speaks out against the menage-a-trois.

>>1237770
>Yeah, kinda

>>1237770
>>I'm sorry

“I'm sorry,” you tell her earnestly. “I thought we were just having a bit of fun, that's all.”

(Yeah, well . . . every once in a while I'd like some time with my boyfriend without Gabby lumbering into the middle of things and ruining it.)

“She doesn't lumber,” you argue in her defense.

(She lumbers.) Rowe insists.

“And she doesn't ruin things. At least, I thought she wasn't. I was under the impression you didn't think so either.”

(I didn't think this would entail 'and here's the part where Alan checks out another woman while I stand here like a dope and let him do it, teehee'.)

“Well you're supposed to be checking her out too,” you bring up.

“Hey Du'kov!” Ed suddenly shouts from the other end of the warehouse, wrapping an arm around the younger orc and guiding him towards the exit. “There's something really important I need to talk to you about outside.”

They leave.

(No. I don't . . . just no. Listen, everything that is not the bedroom Gabby does not have a place with us. Not in public. Not on dates. Not in our house.)

“The bedroom is in the house though,” you point out.

(You know what I mean. No muddying the waters. She is a sex aid for us and that's it. Certainly not a roommate.)

>So would you be against her coming to Basye with us?
>I can't do that Rowe. Gabby means more than that to me.
>I think those boundaries are reasonable. But you know how Gabby is.
>Something else? (write-in)

>>1239166
>I think those boundaries are reasonable. But you know how Gabby is.

>>1239166
>I think those boundaries are reasonable. But you know how Gabby is.

>>1239166
>Something else?
"I can't just treat her as an object that's convenient for me, Rowe. She means more than that, and treating her like just a sex aid is exactly the kind of treatment I wanted to get her away from."
Who knew that it would be Rowe that would make true all of Quissonce's accusations of treating Gabby like a convenient whore.

>>1239348
>>1239408
I'd like to point out that Rowe is treating Gabby in the exact manner that Quissonce accused Alan of doing.

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“I think those boundaries are reasonable,” you reply, nodding along. “But you know how Gabby is. She's raunchy. She crosses the boundaries of reasonable, proper conduct all the time. You think she's not going to remind us constantly of exactly what we do together?”

(Of course not. But . . . y'know, try to control yourself and keep the focus on me. I hate feeling like I sound incredibly selfish for saying – FUCK, I'm not even saying that. I'm thinking that.)

“I understand,” you assure her. “We're a couple and we should do things as a couple without anyone interfering. Like with the birthday trip.”

(That was interfered with, technically.)

“You know what I mean,” you echo her words from earlier. “Gabby is our friend though and we're going to be doing things as friends and that means putting up with her antics. Which we've been doing without issue all this time.”

(Well that becomes a lot harder when I can see how much more attractive she is than me.)

You squint at her, perplexed and slightly taken aback. “Gabby is not more attractive than you.”

(That's a lot harder to believe when the first thing you think to do after seeing me wear that headband is to put it on her instead. You think I should be checking her out? Well I did. And it wasn't an intense feeling of lust I was filled with when I noticed how she looked and how you looked at her. You want your human god and your human woman because that's what feels natural to you.)

You hug her. “That's nonsense,” you fiercely proclaim, stroking her hair. “And I'm sorry that I ever made you feel that way. I want you, Rowe. I love you.” Human god? Where the fuck did that come from?

(I love you too.)

You rub her back for awhile until Kyra strolls by, jingling a sack of coins as she makes her way towards the exit.

Letting go, you and Rowe both feel a bit of release from some hereto unmentioned, built-up tension.

“We should take tomorrow off,” you suggest. “Go to the beach with the whole team. Relax a bit before the expedition to the Dwarven ruin.”

Rowe licks her lips, thinking.

(Do you want to try and do that before Burn comes back? It will be a two week journey there and back. If we took three days to prepare the equipment – which is about how long I'd need – that would leave us with ten days to spare. Nine really, since Burn will most likely arrive at dawn. We probably shouldn't spend longer than a week delving. That leaves us two days of leeway, and even that I'd consider cutting it close. What do you think?)

>Let's do the expedition before Burn arrives. Maybe we'll find something that can help us with our dragon problem.
>Let's do the expedition after Burn arrives. We should focus on surviving that instead of getting sidetracked.

>>1240554
>>Let's do the expedition before Burn arrives. Maybe we'll find something that can help us with our dragon problem.

I think >>1240506
>>1240512
does bring up a good point, though. We shouldn't want to treat Gabby as a sex object. We genuinely do care about her.

I think we should also check in on Gabby later and see how she's doing.

>>1240554
>Let's do the expedition before Burn arrives. Maybe we'll find something that can help us with our dragon problem.

>>1240570
I think the "human god and human woman" comment needs to be looked into more. The more she follows Gaea's Warden, the more racist/elf-centric/super-ecoterrorist she's going to become, I think.

>>1240776
hm, yes, something about that seems a tad fishy.

>>1240927
It's most likely Rowe's half-elf insecurity coming up again.
She's thinking that because we're human, we'd prefer a full human woman and a human-majority god to her dirty half-elf self and elven-majority goddess.

I'd prefer to put a ring on her finger and impregnate her over the course of a week to make her body understand that she's Alan's wife even if her mind tries to deny that a full-blooded human would want a half breed like her, but unfortunately we don't have the time to do that.