Helianth, having now regained a semblance of its stolen divinity, is continuing with its grand scheme once more. It is currently gathering as much information as it can on the whereabouts of the legendary Flame of Fawkes, consuming most non-magical flames it finds as it searches.
In your search for secrets, you find a few leads. The Librarian almost certainly knows or knows how to know, but he is fiercely loyal to his country. Whether or not this is simply because his library happens to be in it... well there's differing opinions there. The ghouls seem to think it's buried in a forgotten grave. This seems to be the reason why some of their number tear open coffins and desecrate cemeteries. There is also the dungeon. Few who go down there return so it would be a safe space to keep such a dangerous being/artifact/whatevertheheckitis. The dungeons are the domain of the Inquisitor of the Dead and this alone seems to be reason enough for many to give up all thought of delving there.
It thinks for a moment now that it has compiled all this information. The dungeon seems promising, but the Inquisitor would certainly not take kindly to its intrusion- doubly so, now that it's allied itself with the ghouls... but there are whispers that the Inquisitor's faith in the Autumn King is not the most sound... searching graves is the safest option, but also the longest search, and there's a chance nothing at all will be gained. The Librarian, though... it's snuck into the library before, and the Egregore has proven he can be deceived and distracted. He also still has that lingering piece of the Frenzied Flame, though it doesn't know that... decisions, decisions...
Ultimately, it decides to check the Library first. It'd be venturing right into the heart of its enemies' territory, what with the building's proximity to the Keep... but if it's quick and quiet, it may learn something of value.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
A sense of nausea sets in As their infected flesh rots And you're up against the hunger Of their underfed maws, Yet there's one above the rest You can never fend off And he's coming for you next, Are you ready or not?
Douxgras stands just inside the forced-open portal to Ghulheim, the shadow of CRAVEBOIL ripples across the tunnel, feasting on the undeath of the slaughtered Ghouls underfoot.
When I'm present I want every hat off. Better show me some respect Cuz I was bred to shed blood. No regrets for the fact I've Had my altars all robbed Empathy's a petty sentiment that I forgot!
The fuzzy Suidat dances to appease his guardian spirit, making the movements of the unearthly hunger both unpredictable and inhuman.
When you enter Hell I want the exit kept locked! You're indebted to the devil from The bets you have lost! I can break your neck Pop your head and drop undead jaws...
The shadow grows and grows and grows, innumerable hands reaching out and killing, killing, killing all the lesser ghouls in their path, carving through them with minimal effort. Demons begin to spawn out of the darkness, keeping the stronger ones at bay.
After takin' all the fight you Had left to have fought.
Then, as suddenly as the assault began, CRAVEBOIL withdraws. Douxgras stares at the withered, ruined bodies lying around him, then simply steps out. CRAVEBOIL is full for now, and the buffet isn't going anywhere.
*I'd love to, if you want! Any specific character you'd like?*
*Since the Medium Duo are back, I'd like them to meet either of the Helianths*
Douxgras is providing blankets and healing to a small village while purifying the invisible, angry frost spirits that flutter through the area.
The gluttonous phoenix, Helianth, wanders into town on its meandering search for... something. It doesn't immediately notice Douxgras, deep in thought and muttering something quietly to itself as it walks.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
*Since the Medium Duo are back, I'd like them to meet either of the Helianths*
Douxgras is providing blankets and healing to a small village while purifying the invisible, angry frost spirits that flutter through the area.
The gluttonous phoenix, Helianth, wanders into town on its meandering search for... something. It doesn't immediately notice Douxgras, deep in thought and muttering something quietly to itself as it walks.
Douxgras looks up at it, and CRAVEBOIL appears before Helianth. The demon is about the same size as the flower, and has the fading energy signatures of what must be thousands of ghouls.
The fuzzy druid approaches. "Could you spare a bit of your fire for the village? It's too cold for them to chop wood, and they've nearly run out."
The abominable spirit looks down at Douxgras with their dilated, glassy eyes. "Ask it to relinquish its curse. It smells like a fine woodsmoke, and I know just who to infuse with it."
In your search for secrets, you find a few leads. The Librarian almost certainly knows or knows how to know, but he is fiercely loyal to his country. Whether or not this is simply because his library happens to be in it... well there's differing opinions there. The ghouls seem to think it's buried in a forgotten grave. This seems to be the reason why some of their number tear open coffins and desecrate cemeteries. There is also the dungeon. Few who go down there return so it would be a safe space to keep such a dangerous being/artifact/whatevertheheckitis. The dungeons are the domain of the Inquisitor of the Dead and this alone seems to be reason enough for many to give up all thought of delving there.
It thinks for a moment now that it has compiled all this information. The dungeon seems promising, but the Inquisitor would certainly not take kindly to its intrusion- doubly so, now that it's allied itself with the ghouls... but there are whispers that the Inquisitor's faith in the Autumn King is not the most sound... searching graves is the safest option, but also the longest search, and there's a chance nothing at all will be gained. The Librarian, though... it's snuck into the library before, and the Egregore has proven he can be deceived and distracted. He also still has that lingering piece of the Frenzied Flame, though it doesn't know that... decisions, decisions...
Ultimately, it decides to check the Library first. It'd be venturing right into the heart of its enemies' territory, what with the building's proximity to the Keep... but if it's quick and quiet, it may learn something of value.
It is not hard to get into the Library, though most entries are through the Keep. There are many great windows and balconies from the outside that lead into the great hall of books and there are several backdoors that are lesser known.
The Librarian stalks the corridors, a candle held in hand and surrounded by the flutter of bird wings.
*Since the Medium Duo are back, I'd like them to meet either of the Helianths*
Douxgras is providing blankets and healing to a small village while purifying the invisible, angry frost spirits that flutter through the area.
The gluttonous phoenix, Helianth, wanders into town on its meandering search for... something. It doesn't immediately notice Douxgras, deep in thought and muttering something quietly to itself as it walks.
Douxgras looks up at it, and CRAVEBOIL appears before Helianth. The demon is about the same size as the flower, and has the fading energy signatures of what must be thousands of ghouls.
The fuzzy druid approaches. "Could you spare a bit of your fire for the village? It's too cold for them to chop wood, and they've nearly run out."
The abominable spirit looks down at Douxgras with their dilated, glassy eyes. "Ask it to relinquish its curse. It smells like a fine woodsmoke, and I know just who to infuse with it."
The god-eater notices the fading undead souls within the demon, and seems equally wary and upset at this discovery, but says nothing about it. "I can't give up my curse, at the moment..." It starts, making sure Craveboil knows it can hear them. "...but sure, I can spare some of my flames." It concentrates for a moment, the tangled roots amidst its captive giant's bones igniting with orange flames, before a small magical flame manifests in its open hand. "This should keep burning for a few weeks at least. It's small at the moment, but it will grow when given fuel."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
It thinks for a moment now that it has compiled all this information. The dungeon seems promising, but the Inquisitor would certainly not take kindly to its intrusion- doubly so, now that it's allied itself with the ghouls... but there are whispers that the Inquisitor's faith in the Autumn King is not the most sound... searching graves is the safest option, but also the longest search, and there's a chance nothing at all will be gained. The Librarian, though... it's snuck into the library before, and the Egregore has proven he can be deceived and distracted. He also still has that lingering piece of the Frenzied Flame, though it doesn't know that... decisions, decisions...
Ultimately, it decides to check the Library first. It'd be venturing right into the heart of its enemies' territory, what with the building's proximity to the Keep... but if it's quick and quiet, it may learn something of value.
It is not hard to get into the Library, though most entries are through the Keep. There are many great windows and balconies from the outside that lead into the great hall of books and there are several backdoors that are lesser known.
The Librarian stalks the corridors, a candle held in hand and surrounded by the flutter of bird wings.
The god-eater crawls up to one of the balconies- the giant bones that cling to its roots prevent it from slithering in through the window like it did last time- and tries to quietly navigate the halls. Its flower heads scan its surroundings as it searches, tasting the air for any detectable trace of the flame it craves.
Helianth's Stealth check, if necessary: 10
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
A sense of nausea sets in As their infected flesh rots And you're up against the hunger Of their underfed maws, Yet there's one above the rest You can never fend off And he's coming for you next, Are you ready or not?
Douxgras stands just inside the forced-open portal to Ghulheim, the shadow of CRAVEBOIL ripples across the tunnel, feasting on the undeath of the slaughtered Ghouls underfoot.
When I'm present I want every hat off. Better show me some respect Cuz I was bred to shed blood. No regrets for the fact I've Had my altars all robbed Empathy's a petty sentiment that I forgot!
The fuzzy Suidat dances to appease his guardian spirit, making the movements of the unearthly hunger both unpredictable and inhuman.
When you enter Hell I want the exit kept locked! You're indebted to the devil from The bets you have lost! I can break your neck Pop your head and drop undead jaws...
The shadow grows and grows and grows, innumerable hands reaching out and killing, killing, killing all the lesser ghouls in their path, carving through them with minimal effort. Demons begin to spawn out of the darkness, keeping the stronger ones at bay.
After takin' all the fight you Had left to have fought.
Then, as suddenly as the assault began, CRAVEBOIL withdraws. Douxgras stares at the withered, ruined bodies lying around him, then simply steps out. CRAVEBOIL is full for now, and the buffet isn't going anywhere.
A voice calls out from within the Ghoul Gate not long after the massacre comes to a break.
"You have trespassed on forbidden soil. My soil. You have slaughtered the children of the grave. My children. My family. If you do not close the door you had no right to open then I will call out the name of every man who has ever died and all who have passed will pour out onto the earth. The dead will outnumber the living and their appetite will be unbound, for I am Amina. The Queen of the Ghouls, their chosen Mother and the Daughter of the Dead."
Douxgras looks up at it, and CRAVEBOIL appears before Helianth. The demon is about the same size as the flower, and has the fading energy signatures of what must be thousands of ghouls.
The fuzzy druid approaches. "Could you spare a bit of your fire for the village? It's too cold for them to chop wood, and they've nearly run out."
The abominable spirit looks down at Douxgras with their dilated, glassy eyes. "Ask it to relinquish its curse. It smells like a fine woodsmoke, and I know just who to infuse with it."
The god-eater notices the fading undead souls within the demon, and seems equally wary and upset at this discovery, but says nothing about it. "I can't give up my curse, at the moment..." It starts, making sure Craveboil knows it can hear them. "...but sure, I can spare some of my flames." It concentrates for a moment, the tangled roots amidst its captive giant's bones igniting with orange flames, before a small magical flame manifests in its open hand. "This should keep burning for a few weeks at least. It's small at the moment, but it will grow when given fuel."
The abyssal entity steps back a bit further as Douxgras approaches, smiling. "Thank you so much. This is better than we could have hoped for."
CRAVEBOIL stares, his flesh beginning to boil with rage. "Such a vile curse... and you keep it? It will drive you mad, and you will kill everyone around you out of hunger. It will get worse and worse. What on earth could compel y-"
"It knows its own curse, Crave." Douxgras interrupts. "It's not our place to make decisions for others. Leave it be."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
A voice calls out from within the Ghoul Gate not long after the massacre comes to a break.
"You have trespassed on forbidden soil. My soil. You have slaughtered the children of the grave. My children. My family. If you do not close the door you had no right to open then I will call out the name of every man who has ever died and all who have passed will pour out onto the earth. The dead will outnumber the living and their appetite will be unbound, for I am Amina. The Queen of the Ghouls, their chosen Mother and the Daughter of the Dead."
"Oh, and it will be delicious." Comes the unworried voice of the great demon. "Thank you for saving me the time, my precious dessert. No need for introductions. Your innumerable failings to keep me sealed have identified you well enough. I will feast on your family now and forevermore, and I promise endless suffering to every last one you raise. Every corpse will be sundered, every child devoured... until I have you, dearest. My beloved. My perfect bite."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Douxgras looks up at it, and CRAVEBOIL appears before Helianth. The demon is about the same size as the flower, and has the fading energy signatures of what must be thousands of ghouls.
The fuzzy druid approaches. "Could you spare a bit of your fire for the village? It's too cold for them to chop wood, and they've nearly run out."
The abominable spirit looks down at Douxgras with their dilated, glassy eyes. "Ask it to relinquish its curse. It smells like a fine woodsmoke, and I know just who to infuse with it."
The god-eater notices the fading undead souls within the demon, and seems equally wary and upset at this discovery, but says nothing about it. "I can't give up my curse, at the moment..." It starts, making sure Craveboil knows it can hear them. "...but sure, I can spare some of my flames." It concentrates for a moment, the tangled roots amidst its captive giant's bones igniting with orange flames, before a small magical flame manifests in its open hand. "This should keep burning for a few weeks at least. It's small at the moment, but it will grow when given fuel."
The abyssal entity steps back a bit further as Douxgras approaches, smiling. "Thank you so much. This is better than we could have hoped for."
CRAVEBOIL stares, his flesh beginning to boil with rage. "Such a vile curse... and you keep it? It will drive you mad, and you will kill everyone around you out of hunger. It will get worse and worse. What on earth could compel y-"
"It knows its own curse, Crave." Douxgras interrupts. "It's not our place to make decisions for others. Leave it be."
"What I plan to do with my curse is not of your concern." It says in response to the demon, its previously friendly demeanor entirely disappearing for a moment- despite the radiating heat and light constantly emitting from it, it seemed especially cold for those few seconds. It then directs its attention back to Douxgras. "Do you have some way to take the flame yourself? I could also set this somewhere it's easier to move and spread, if you'd like- make sure everyone who needs it gets their share."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
It thinks for a moment now that it has compiled all this information. The dungeon seems promising, but the Inquisitor would certainly not take kindly to its intrusion- doubly so, now that it's allied itself with the ghouls... but there are whispers that the Inquisitor's faith in the Autumn King is not the most sound... searching graves is the safest option, but also the longest search, and there's a chance nothing at all will be gained. The Librarian, though... it's snuck into the library before, and the Egregore has proven he can be deceived and distracted. He also still has that lingering piece of the Frenzied Flame, though it doesn't know that... decisions, decisions...
Ultimately, it decides to check the Library first. It'd be venturing right into the heart of its enemies' territory, what with the building's proximity to the Keep... but if it's quick and quiet, it may learn something of value.
It is not hard to get into the Library, though most entries are through the Keep. There are many great windows and balconies from the outside that lead into the great hall of books and there are several backdoors that are lesser known.
The Librarian stalks the corridors, a candle held in hand and surrounded by the flutter of bird wings.
The god-eater crawls up to one of the balconies- the giant bones that cling to its roots prevent it from slithering in through the window like it did last time- and tries to quietly navigate the halls. Its flower heads scan its surroundings as it searches, tasting the air for any detectable trace of the flame it craves.
Helianth's Stealth check, if necessary: 10
*My internet is very slow for some reason right now... I just realized its probably because of the thunderstorm... anyways if I'm slow to respond that's why.*
You sense the glow of countless candles throughout the library but nothing quite like the flame you seek. However, there is the faintest glimmer of a fire that is very familiar to you. Something that smells/tastes/feels/looks a lot like the Frenzied Flame. It is in this Library, but deep within its shelves.
A voice calls out from within the Ghoul Gate not long after the massacre comes to a break.
"You have trespassed on forbidden soil. My soil. You have slaughtered the children of the grave. My children. My family. If you do not close the door you had no right to open then I will call out the name of every man who has ever died and all who have passed will pour out onto the earth. The dead will outnumber the living and their appetite will be unbound, for I am Amina. The Queen of the Ghouls, their chosen Mother and the Daughter of the Dead."
"Oh, and it will be delicious." Comes the unworried voice of the great demon. "Thank you for saving me the time, my precious dessert. No need for introductions. Your innumerable failings to keep me sealed have identified you well enough. I will feast on your family now and forevermore, and I promise endless suffering to every last one you raise. Every corpse will be sundered, every child devoured... until I have you, dearest. My beloved. My perfect bite."
There is the scream of some enraged banshee that is soon joined by a dreadful chorus of wails that pour from throats that have swallowed many a swollen corpse. You can hear chipped nails being scraped across dry stone and fists slamming into grave dirt and rotten teeth gnashing.
But aside from all that there ain't much of a response.
It thinks for a moment now that it has compiled all this information. The dungeon seems promising, but the Inquisitor would certainly not take kindly to its intrusion- doubly so, now that it's allied itself with the ghouls... but there are whispers that the Inquisitor's faith in the Autumn King is not the most sound... searching graves is the safest option, but also the longest search, and there's a chance nothing at all will be gained. The Librarian, though... it's snuck into the library before, and the Egregore has proven he can be deceived and distracted. He also still has that lingering piece of the Frenzied Flame, though it doesn't know that... decisions, decisions...
Ultimately, it decides to check the Library first. It'd be venturing right into the heart of its enemies' territory, what with the building's proximity to the Keep... but if it's quick and quiet, it may learn something of value.
It is not hard to get into the Library, though most entries are through the Keep. There are many great windows and balconies from the outside that lead into the great hall of books and there are several backdoors that are lesser known.
The Librarian stalks the corridors, a candle held in hand and surrounded by the flutter of bird wings.
The god-eater crawls up to one of the balconies- the giant bones that cling to its roots prevent it from slithering in through the window like it did last time- and tries to quietly navigate the halls. Its flower heads scan its surroundings as it searches, tasting the air for any detectable trace of the flame it craves.
Helianth's Stealth check, if necessary: 10
*My internet is very slow for some reason right now... I just realized its probably because of the thunderstorm... anyways if I'm slow to respond that's why.*
You sense the glow of countless candles throughout the library but nothing quite like the flame you seek. However, there is the faintest glimmer of a fire that is very familiar to you. Something that smells/tastes/feels/looks a lot like the Frenzied Flame. It is in this Library, but deep within its shelves.
It pauses for a moment as it notices this familiar, delectable flavor, and for a moment forgets what it came here to do... though while it's searching for one magical flame, it thinks, it might as well look for the second. It follows the faint flavor of the Frenzied Flame, hoping to find its source at the trail's end.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
The abyssal entity steps back a bit further as Douxgras approaches, smiling. "Thank you so much. This is better than we could have hoped for."
CRAVEBOIL stares, his flesh beginning to boil with rage. "Such a vile curse... and you keep it? It will drive you mad, and you will kill everyone around you out of hunger. It will get worse and worse. What on earth could compel y-"
"It knows its own curse, Crave." Douxgras interrupts. "It's not our place to make decisions for others. Leave it be."
"What I plan to do with my curse is not of your concern." It says in response to the demon, its previously friendly demeanor entirely disappearing for a moment- despite the radiating heat and light constantly emitting from it, it seemed especially cold for those few seconds. It then directs its attention back to Douxgras. "Do you have some way to take the flame yourself? I could also set this somewhere it's easier to move and spread, if you'd like- make sure everyone who needs it gets their share."
The druid holds out his hands and takes the ball of flame. "I'll put some in the communal fire pit, and a little bit in each fireplace. I'll keep some for myself, so I can feed it and bring it to other villages."
CRAVEBOIL grabs Douxgras' shoulder. "This is the trolley problem, vessel. It may be innocent, but it will kill so many more innocents if you do nothing now." "This isn't the time for paranoia. We are all suffering, and we need every hand we can get. If it becomes a problem, then we deal with it appropriately, but that isn't the case right now and we can't afford to kill people for no reason."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
The abyssal entity steps back a bit further as Douxgras approaches, smiling. "Thank you so much. This is better than we could have hoped for."
CRAVEBOIL stares, his flesh beginning to boil with rage. "Such a vile curse... and you keep it? It will drive you mad, and you will kill everyone around you out of hunger. It will get worse and worse. What on earth could compel y-"
"It knows its own curse, Crave." Douxgras interrupts. "It's not our place to make decisions for others. Leave it be."
"What I plan to do with my curse is not of your concern." It says in response to the demon, its previously friendly demeanor entirely disappearing for a moment- despite the radiating heat and light constantly emitting from it, it seemed especially cold for those few seconds. It then directs its attention back to Douxgras. "Do you have some way to take the flame yourself? I could also set this somewhere it's easier to move and spread, if you'd like- make sure everyone who needs it gets their share."
The druid holds out his hands and takes the ball of flame. "I'll put some in the communal fire pit, and a little bit in each fireplace. I'll keep some for myself, so I can feed it and bring it to other villages."
CRAVEBOIL grabs Douxgras' shoulder. "This is the trolley problem, vessel. It may be innocent, but it will kill so many more innocents if you do nothing now." "This isn't the time for paranoia. We are all suffering, and we need every hand we can get. If it becomes a problem, then we deal with it appropriately, but that isn't the case right now and we can't afford to kill people for no reason."
Its friendly mask again slips for a moment, the crooked flower staring the abyssal being down with a quiet calculating anger, before it remembers itself and reassumes its previous demeanor. "Yes, we're all dealing with far too much panic and suffering to be picky with allies. The trolly is still a while away- that difficult decision can wait for after the immediate peril is averted."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
*My internet is very slow for some reason right now... I just realized its probably because of the thunderstorm... anyways if I'm slow to respond that's why.*
You sense the glow of countless candles throughout the library but nothing quite like the flame you seek. However, there is the faintest glimmer of a fire that is very familiar to you. Something that smells/tastes/feels/looks a lot like the Frenzied Flame. It is in this Library, but deep within its shelves.
It pauses for a moment as it notices this familiar, delectable flavor, and for a moment forgets what it came here to do... though while it's searching for one magical flame, it thinks, it might as well look for the second. It follows the faint flavor of the Frenzied Flame, hoping to find its source at the trail's end.
Your hunt for this strange remnant takes you farther and farther into the shelves. The towering cabinets only seem to grow higher and higher and they are decked in beautifully bound books. Occasionally you'll come across a tower of slots stuffed full of yellowed scrolls.
Then you come across a portion of the shelving that most would walk on past. You however, can sense the flame directly behind it. After inspecting it for a few moments, you discover that it is indeed a concealed doorway. A doorway into a cluttered study. A cluttered study with not an ounce of open table space and with an intricately complicated model of the solar system dangling from the ceiling. A study with a small lamp hanging from a hook. Inside that lamp flickers perhaps the last fragment of a very familiar flame. A piece of the Frenzied Flame.
But strangely, this study is completely devoid of the Librarian and you have not seen the keeper of these books or his bird eyes in all your wanderings.
It thinks for a moment now that it has compiled all this information. The dungeon seems promising, but the Inquisitor would certainly not take kindly to its intrusion- doubly so, now that it's allied itself with the ghouls... but there are whispers that the Inquisitor's faith in the Autumn King is not the most sound... searching graves is the safest option, but also the longest search, and there's a chance nothing at all will be gained. The Librarian, though... it's snuck into the library before, and the Egregore has proven he can be deceived and distracted. He also still has that lingering piece of the Frenzied Flame, though it doesn't know that... decisions, decisions...
Ultimately, it decides to check the Library first. It'd be venturing right into the heart of its enemies' territory, what with the building's proximity to the Keep... but if it's quick and quiet, it may learn something of value.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
As their infected flesh rots
And you're up against the hunger
Of their underfed maws,
Yet there's one above the rest
You can never fend off
And he's coming for you next,
Are you ready or not?
Better show me some respect
Cuz I was bred to shed blood.
No regrets for the fact I've
Had my altars all robbed
Empathy's a petty sentiment that I forgot!
I want the exit kept locked!
You're indebted to the devil from
The bets you have lost!
I can break your neck
Pop your head and drop undead jaws...
Had left to have fought.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*Anyway, who wants to RP?*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*I'd love to, if you want! Any specific character you'd like?*
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
*Since the Medium Duo are back, I'd like them to meet either of the Helianths*
Douxgras is providing blankets and healing to a small village while purifying the invisible, angry frost spirits that flutter through the area.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
The gluttonous phoenix, Helianth, wanders into town on its meandering search for... something. It doesn't immediately notice Douxgras, deep in thought and muttering something quietly to itself as it walks.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
Douxgras looks up at it, and CRAVEBOIL appears before Helianth. The demon is about the same size as the flower, and has the fading energy signatures of what must be thousands of ghouls.
The fuzzy druid approaches. "Could you spare a bit of your fire for the village? It's too cold for them to chop wood, and they've nearly run out."
The abominable spirit looks down at Douxgras with their dilated, glassy eyes. "Ask it to relinquish its curse. It smells like a fine woodsmoke, and I know just who to infuse with it."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
It is not hard to get into the Library, though most entries are through the Keep. There are many great windows and balconies from the outside that lead into the great hall of books and there are several backdoors that are lesser known.
The Librarian stalks the corridors, a candle held in hand and surrounded by the flutter of bird wings.
The god-eater notices the fading undead souls within the demon, and seems equally wary and upset at this discovery, but says nothing about it. "I can't give up my curse, at the moment..." It starts, making sure Craveboil knows it can hear them. "...but sure, I can spare some of my flames." It concentrates for a moment, the tangled roots amidst its captive giant's bones igniting with orange flames, before a small magical flame manifests in its open hand. "This should keep burning for a few weeks at least. It's small at the moment, but it will grow when given fuel."
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
The god-eater crawls up to one of the balconies- the giant bones that cling to its roots prevent it from slithering in through the window like it did last time- and tries to quietly navigate the halls. Its flower heads scan its surroundings as it searches, tasting the air for any detectable trace of the flame it craves.
Helianth's Stealth check, if necessary: 10
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
A voice calls out from within the Ghoul Gate not long after the massacre comes to a break.
"You have trespassed on forbidden soil. My soil. You have slaughtered the children of the grave. My children. My family. If you do not close the door you had no right to open then I will call out the name of every man who has ever died and all who have passed will pour out onto the earth. The dead will outnumber the living and their appetite will be unbound, for I am Amina. The Queen of the Ghouls, their chosen Mother and the Daughter of the Dead."
The abyssal entity steps back a bit further as Douxgras approaches, smiling. "Thank you so much. This is better than we could have hoped for."
CRAVEBOIL stares, his flesh beginning to boil with rage. "Such a vile curse... and you keep it? It will drive you mad, and you will kill everyone around you out of hunger. It will get worse and worse. What on earth could compel y-"
"It knows its own curse, Crave." Douxgras interrupts. "It's not our place to make decisions for others. Leave it be."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"Oh, and it will be delicious." Comes the unworried voice of the great demon. "Thank you for saving me the time, my precious dessert. No need for introductions. Your innumerable failings to keep me sealed have identified you well enough. I will feast on your family now and forevermore, and I promise endless suffering to every last one you raise. Every corpse will be sundered, every child devoured... until I have you, dearest. My beloved. My perfect bite."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"What I plan to do with my curse is not of your concern." It says in response to the demon, its previously friendly demeanor entirely disappearing for a moment- despite the radiating heat and light constantly emitting from it, it seemed especially cold for those few seconds. It then directs its attention back to Douxgras. "Do you have some way to take the flame yourself? I could also set this somewhere it's easier to move and spread, if you'd like- make sure everyone who needs it gets their share."
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
*My internet is very slow for some reason right now... I just realized its probably because of the thunderstorm... anyways if I'm slow to respond that's why.*
You sense the glow of countless candles throughout the library but nothing quite like the flame you seek. However, there is the faintest glimmer of a fire that is very familiar to you. Something that smells/tastes/feels/looks a lot like the Frenzied Flame. It is in this Library, but deep within its shelves.
There is the scream of some enraged banshee that is soon joined by a dreadful chorus of wails that pour from throats that have swallowed many a swollen corpse. You can hear chipped nails being scraped across dry stone and fists slamming into grave dirt and rotten teeth gnashing.
But aside from all that there ain't much of a response.
It pauses for a moment as it notices this familiar, delectable flavor, and for a moment forgets what it came here to do... though while it's searching for one magical flame, it thinks, it might as well look for the second. It follows the faint flavor of the Frenzied Flame, hoping to find its source at the trail's end.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
The druid holds out his hands and takes the ball of flame. "I'll put some in the communal fire pit, and a little bit in each fireplace. I'll keep some for myself, so I can feed it and bring it to other villages."
CRAVEBOIL grabs Douxgras' shoulder. "This is the trolley problem, vessel. It may be innocent, but it will kill so many more innocents if you do nothing now."
"This isn't the time for paranoia. We are all suffering, and we need every hand we can get. If it becomes a problem, then we deal with it appropriately, but that isn't the case right now and we can't afford to kill people for no reason."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Its friendly mask again slips for a moment, the crooked flower staring the abyssal being down with a quiet calculating anger, before it remembers itself and reassumes its previous demeanor. "Yes, we're all dealing with far too much panic and suffering to be picky with allies. The trolly is still a while away- that difficult decision can wait for after the immediate peril is averted."
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
Your hunt for this strange remnant takes you farther and farther into the shelves. The towering cabinets only seem to grow higher and higher and they are decked in beautifully bound books. Occasionally you'll come across a tower of slots stuffed full of yellowed scrolls.
Then you come across a portion of the shelving that most would walk on past. You however, can sense the flame directly behind it. After inspecting it for a few moments, you discover that it is indeed a concealed doorway. A doorway into a cluttered study. A cluttered study with not an ounce of open table space and with an intricately complicated model of the solar system dangling from the ceiling. A study with a small lamp hanging from a hook. Inside that lamp flickers perhaps the last fragment of a very familiar flame. A piece of the Frenzied Flame.
But strangely, this study is completely devoid of the Librarian and you have not seen the keeper of these books or his bird eyes in all your wanderings.