Welcome to the Deals with the Devils PbP thread. This campaign is set for characters who have left their mortal life behind, now members of the lower rungs of devilkin. At some point in their past, they signed the pact, maybe on their deathbed, to cheat being sent to an afterlife and instead being reincarnated as a devil.
Unfortunately for these folk, they start their new life at the bottom of the pecking order. Small, weak, and pathetic looking, these devils will hope to one day become powerful enough to maybe become leaders among these folk, or even greater yet.
The following players are members of this play-by-post:
"Right you grunts!" You hear called out to you as you awaken. You don't recall much, in fact, at first you recalled nothing at all. You look around at the hellish landscape around you, a scorched land of brimstone and flame. Surrounding you are creatures that half-look like melting people. Sad, pathetic excuses for life, and a little horrifying to say the least. Then you look to your own body and realise that you look disturbingly similar. Flickers of memories begin to jump back into your head; a pact, a devil, an agreement, a mistake.
(Spoiler for what your current form looks like)
"Get up, you miserable excuses for fiends!" The infernal call shouts out again. Strange, the dialect is definitely not the common tongue, but you can understand it as if it was your native tongue. Looking around, you see an enormous leathery-skinned devil with ram-like horns, towering high above the other creatures in this area. The wings of the devil arc outwards for what feels like infinity, as the bifurcated spear glows hot like a poker. It's something to look up to in wonder and awe, but also in complete terror. "You're being sent to The Mortal Realm, grab me that stone already. The mortals will be contacting you and summoning you any second now. Just slay 'em when they drop their guard, they have no real power over us. AND BRING ME MY STONE!"
(Spoiler contains image of the devil)
Before you have a chance to say anything, something seems to call to you, pulling you from where you were. Drawn away from that location, the swirling vortex of transplanar energies rushes about you, as you begin to recall other things; your name, what you did, and some of your skill. There is a nasty THUD as you land somewhere.
"Woah... That actually worked." You hear a slightly raspy voice say. Gaining a little awareness of your surroundings, it has gone from dim reds and greys of the hellscape to verdant greens and browns of a forest. Standing near your forms is a person in dark grey robes. They appear to be human, but tower at twice your height. Focusing on them, they appear to be a young adult man, perhaps twenty summers, and have their dark hair braided back out of the way. One of their hands seems to drip with a couple droplets of blood while the other holds a knife with a wavy patterned blade. Accompanying him appears to be a shorter, more portly human man, but still taller than you. He has unkept shaggy hair and some stubble, but adorns a similar attire.
"Awesome, so dudes, I am your new master now." The man says, looking at the group with a somewhat chuckle to his tone. "You can call me Arty, alright?"
Zamiel just stares. The rush of dying, being reborn into a blobby melting gross demon body, then getting immediately yelled at by a giant demon and hurled back to the material plane all in the span of a few minutes has shorted out his mind.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Build a man a fire, and he'll be warm for a day. Set a man on fire, and he'll be warm for the rest of his life." - Sir Terry Pratchett
"What do you think they're saying?" The shorter, more portly of the two says to his companion.
"I've no idea, man, but this is totally awesome." Arty chuckles. "Right, my minions, we've got a quest for you! We're gonna go pay that ****** Garsto a visit and teach him a lesson." The taller human man cracks his knuckles, then winces slightly.
After the immediate shock of the recent events, it is obvious that these two here are complete amateurs, the circle they have constructed out in this clearing is crudely done in salt, and they don't look like they've seen battle once, though they are armed and bigger than you...