Dragon Quest IV [ME7]

[Makeshift]

The Nalfeshnee takes the object himself and looks at it quizzically.

(Go ahead and give me a persuasion roll with Advantage, Cyprian]

[Cyprian Kircheis]

Dragon Quest IV - Persuasion Roll with advantage | 2d20kl1+12 ⇒ 25 (Wrong Code, it's actually 31 - Damn near a crit)

[Makeshift]

The Nalfeshnee grins, nods with gusto, and twists the cap. And then things go... Bad.

Your perceptions stretch to their very limits go try to comprehend what it is that leaps out of the cylinder. Only vague impressions actually arrive at your brain. Something reptilian, large, seemingly made of knives and claws, and of course... That damned grin. Akh would recognize it anywhere. The same from the coin. But as soon as the thing emerges, reality seems to... Quiver

Impressions of events that don't seem to work in linear time is what you are left with, in the end.

The nalfeshnee screaming. You never thought a demon could actually make such sounds of whimpering and fear.

You dragging things in a dark tunnel, ghe sound of claws on stone following you.

The goblin from before, melting, before thousands of hands stitch is back up, exactly the same but missing a mouth.

Through all of this, you feel yourself losing time. Days you can't recall anymore. People whose missing contexts make you feel sick and dizzy and heartbroken because you loved them but they aren't there anymore.

You're trapped in a maelstrom of teeth and claws that don't consume you, but instead the whole history of you. You feel like you're ripping away. Like you're melting. Like someone's sculpting you and


"ENOUGH."


you stand in the throne room. before you is a cage of flesh, shaped almost impossibly like cross section of a living room. there is a hearth. chairs. even a small coffee table with goblets of something red in them it is all made of meat and sinew. raw blood soaked muscle, still quivering from death reflexes. the form of a skinned goblin sitting on a sofa made from something soft and white and plumb, sipping tea from a cup made out of a large eye and some stray strands of muscle. and where the roof would go, a chandelier made out of a very small dragon skull, hanging from struts that used to be the metal cage the nalfeshnee had embedded into it's spine. the skull seems untouched.

[Make a Wisdom save with disadvantage for me would you?]

[Cyprian Kircheis]

Cyprian's eyes are bulging. All he can do is stare in abject horror at what he's just witnessed.

Dragon Quest IV - Wisdom Save | 2d20kl1+1 ⇒ 3

[Makeshift]

For Cyprian, it's too much. His throat is hoarse from screaming, strands of blood in his spit, that falls from his open mouth to the floor. He doesn't remember screaming. He is half-catatonic, mumbling to himself as he sits, splaylegged on the floor.

(Disadvantages to all rolls within sight of this gruesome display.)

[Akh Uur Hoon]

ME7. What have I done? Wisdom Save.: 2d20l1+3 4

[Critical Failure]

When Akh Uur Hoon semi-realised what enormity she had done, her mind - alien residue to a long-dead body - collapsed. It was falling long into a catatonic abyss with acute, paralysing awaremess what waited at the bottom. Because she had been there before. Sharp teeth in gory, musky darkness, fitful no-place where hurt lost reference - she unto them, them unto her? There was no denial of what her guilt had ever whispered - once a monster, ever a monster.

[Cyprian Kircheis]

Once Cyprian recovers he musters every ounce of strength he has and walks into the flesh art to retrieve the dragonling's skull. He didn't exactly feel pity for the devil, but the goblin? Well, he could at least semi-sympathize. 'Oh gods, this smell's not coming out.'

Once he has it he'll rush over and help Akh to her feet. "Akh," he'll whisper, "what was that?"

[Factol Skall]

"A WEAPON. A GATEWAY. AND AN AMULET OF HIDDEN SIGHT." That sam voice, deeper than the deepest depth of space. At the same time, somehow managing to be smug.

Skall materializes, in his usual form of empty floating robe and macabre mask, looking at the "living" room. With him you notice a pressure in the room. Like gravity incrementally increasing. He turns to gaze at Akh and Cyprian.

"WELL DONE. WE SHALL SEE ABOUT GETTING YOU... CLEANED UP. AND THEN YOU MAY OVERSEE OUR USE OF THIS REALM. I SHALL BE IN TOUCH ABOUT MY PLANS FOR IT. TAKE HER BACK THROUGH THE PORTAL, DHAMPIR. I SHALL ENSURE SOME LIQUID OBLIVION ON THE OTHER SIDE, FOR YOUR COMFORT."

He says the word derisively.

[Makeshift]

ME7. What have I done? Wisdom Save.: 2d20l1+3 4

[Critical Failure]

When Akh Uur Hoon semi-realised what enormity she had done, her mind - alien residue to a long-dead body - collapsed. It was falling long into a catatonic abyss with acute, paralysing awaremess what waited at the bottom. Because she had been there before. Sharp teeth in gory, musky darkness, fitful no-place where hurt lost reference - she unto them, them unto her? There was no denial of what her guilt had ever whispered - once a monster, ever a monster.

Oh. Pain. Pain pain. Your mind is drawn into itself. You lie completely still on the floor, gazing at this room.

Nothing registers outside of you (the pieces you lost of the already fragile construct that is your mind and being) but that room.

And the fact that you can't help finding it


The most amusing thing you have seen in a good long while.

(No actions but laughter or mad muttering while you're still on this plane. Some leeway here, if you can justify it within your moment of madness.)

[Cyprian Kircheis]

Trembling in fear at Akh's boss he bows shakily. Unable to refuse even the offer of blood. Seeing Akh so terribly affected breaks Cyprian. The only thing he wants is to get her out of there as swiftly as possible. "Hold on to me, it'll be okay." He manages as he pulls her towards the door.