Your readiness serves you quite well, as you're able to react well before the first enemy you face as you move through the archway. Another clattering skeleton - and three more quite similar to it - were waiting in this chamber, and it looks like you're going to have to deal with all of them before you can proceed!
It's not often that she catches skeletons by surprise!
It's less often that she's at a loss for words!
Fortunately, Lucy and Doggy-Pup Bow-Wow*^ (her flail) were both eager for new introductions! She introduces them to her new-found friends... thoroughly!
Making frie-... well, influencing peop- ... er, smashing pumpki- ... skeletons.:
* She's saving "Kitty-Cat Mewow-Mewow" in case she ever finds a solid shillelagh!
^ She has another name for it. I... shan't be repeating it. It's not appropriate.
In many cases, spooky scary skeletons might send shivers down your spine... and their relentless approach means that simply swinging the hammer doesn't do much to them, particularly as they lash out with a series of fierce claw attacks. They aren't very durable - one hit is all that's needed to take each down - but the sheer time needed to get through them gave them plenty of room for counters. As for how well they did...
Well, it wasn't too impressive. 4 damage. Sadly, the undead aren't known for carrying treasure, though you do have two options now for proceeding. On the west side of the room is a good wooden door that clearly looks stuck (Break DC 18; hard 5, 15 hp)) - while the east side has a wooden portcullis (Lift DC 25, break DC 28; hard 5, 30 hp), currently lowered to make passage that much more difficult for people. Seriously, this is not a resident-friendly location...
As you pass towards the portcullis, the ground shudders beneath your feet... and suddenly drops away.
If you can't find a way to change your fate...:
Falling Damage:1d6 ⇒ 5
You slam into the ground, quite hard. Worse, however...
Number of Spikes:1d4 ⇒ 1 Attack Roll:1d20 + 10 ⇒ (11) + 10 = 21 for Damage:1d4 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3
You're unable to completely avoid being impaled by a thick spike, though fortune may have been with you after all - minimal damage from the lowest number of spikes is a rather surprising result for a spiked pit trap.
The bigger problem? You're ten feet down in a pit...
I've no idea how Hexy would change her fate? Oh, wait! Mythic Power:1d6 ⇒ 2 EDIT: Well, crumblecakes. I really do expend mythic power on things that do me no good. Sigh.
.
Presuming that's not enough (I doubt it is):
Jya slams into the spikes at the bottom, though, fortunately, though, her wooden shield (nestled on her back) catches most of them for her, leaving her only introduced to a few of the most tenacious ones.
She rolls over, a bit, and curses - quite eloquently, in fact, and thoroughly covering most of the basics that any creature, regardless of their anatomy, could do with it, in a very surprisingly large and varied number of ways and styles, most of them hypothetically pleasant - at least to creatures who were into that kind of thing -, but, based on her tone of voice and inference, she would somehow find a way to make it thoroughly un-enjoyable.
Charisma/Intimidate:1d20 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9 Okay, it's not threatening at all. In fact, some folk listening might be thinking that it's an offer that they may be interested in taking her up on.
After a while, pulls herself together and takes her Hammer and attempts to make some holes to be handholds and foot-holds.
INT/Craft:1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10 ARG!
Finally ready, she begins to climb on the side of the portcullis, using the opposing walls to brace herself in her climb.
Climb:1d20 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4, -5 to DC for using walls to brace herself, plus any bonuses she (may) get from the above. She's willing to take a full-round action instead of a move to do this, if it helps at all.
... unfortunately for her, she gets no where, and gets there very, very quickly.
Climb:1d20 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 2 = 19, -5 to DC for using walls to brace herself, plus any bonuses she (may) get from the above. She's willing to take a full-round action instead of a move to do this, if it helps at all.
With a tremendous effort and focus, she manages to nearly get all the way up out of the pit. She climbs 7.5 feet up.
Climb:1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18, -5 to DC for using walls to brace herself, plus any bonuses she (may) get from the above. She's willing to take a full-round action instead of a move to do this, if it helps at all.
Breathing, and trying again, she edges toward the top. She climbs another 7.5 feet up, hopefully.
Presuming she makes it... she clings to the edge. Getting out Doggy-Pup Bow-Wow, she makes them friends with the portcullis. After all, what are friends, but smashing you over and over again until you're a broken pile of mush? (That's what Asmodeus seems to think, anyway...)
If she does somehow miraculously make it, despite terrible dice rolls:
Jya frowns, hopping back juuuuust in time to avoid death. Again.
Her eyes narrow at the pit trap.
Fine.
She marks the existence of the pit trap, as she does, and then takes Lucy to begin hammering the floor in front of her on her way to the <impressive array of uncouth wording, probably anatomically impossible, not to mention unsanitary> door instead of a similarly improbable portcullis.
Initiative:1d20 ⇒ 20
Lucy prepares herself for whatever might await in the next room.
"Oh sweetness~!" she calls, "It's really frustrating when I answer your summons, only to have all these doors barring my way~! I'd much rather just talk, please~!"
Bluff:1d20 + 10 ⇒ (4) + 10 = 14Well, not their summons, anyway. Diplomacy:1d20 + 9 ⇒ (8) + 9 = 17or +10; she really would rather talk.
"...He's in the next room." a quiet voice said from the far corner of the room - and now that you've finally managed to get through, you're able to take a look around. At the northern wall is a wide mosaic that... appears to be showing the entrance area of the dungeon. Several iron cages are scattered around the room - and more importantly, one of them is occupied. "...I don't suppose you'd be willing to let me out of here?" Several things are immediately apparent to you. First, she's cute. Secondly, it can't possibly be comfortable to have heavy iron braces stabbed into the wall, across your wings, and preventing you from moving around. Third, finally, something suggests that your target might actually live in this death-trap of an earthen orifice after all. Fourth, Torag has given you the ability to cast Dimensional Hop today - as a Wordspell, no less, perhaps in the hopes you'll say something useful.
This Temptation (which you really should add to your alias as a special ability) spell will increase your favor with Law and decrease your favor with Chaos.
I don't actually know if she fell to the trap or did not, so I don't know what her hp are, or where we are. Heal:1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17 Perception:1d20 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13 Sense Motive:1d20 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11 Spellcraft:1d20 + 8 ⇒ (2) + 8 = 10
Jya is extraordinarily cautious, but similarly intensely curious about the woman in chains. The first order of business, however, is to determine if she's likely going to die from that set up, and if any of this is a trick or a trap. She scans for magic, and attempts to eek out any insight she can from the woman's voice - any tells whatsoever.
Stealth:1d20 - 5 ⇒ (1) - 5 = -4 EDIT: HOLY CRAP! That is the worst Stealth check I've ever seen! ... ... ... I would like to take this moment remind, for, um, no particular reason, naturally, just because... that natural 1s are not, technically, automatic failures by RAW, and that Perception DCs increase by 1 for every ten feet of distance between you and the target, as well as +10/ft of thickness for a wall between yourself and the target, as well as +5 through a closed door, as well as +2 for unfavorable conditions (or +5 for terrible conditions), and +5 if the creature is distracted or +10 if they're asleep! That's like a +20 at minimum no matter where I or they are on the board! :D ... ... :/ Yeah, I'm gonna just go add an initiative roll at the bottom of the page.
Jya attempts to move quickly, but quietly toward the girl, to get a better angle to study her and learn what, exactly, is going on. Take 20 on perception for traps.
EDIT: Although instead of successfully being stealthily, she manages to kick a bit of rubble and create a tremendous clatter as she stumbles into the room. She sighs. "It's been that kind of day." she says.
"And who, exactly, might you be?" she asks, softly, as she steps towards the woman, running anything through her mind that might tell her who - or what - she is.
You did indeed fall into the trap, and took the listed damage, bringing you down to 9 HP.
There are no traps to be seen - though there is a fair amount of magic within the girl's body, consistent with what you'd expect from a moderately powerful user of holy spells. Meanwhile, despite her status as being chained up within a cage deep in the depths of a dungeon dedicated to some obscene worship of evil... there's an odd look of pity on her face, as if she feels rather sorry for you. On the bright side, at least your charm is in full force, though your incredible lack of stealthy ability may have had something to do with the impression you're given. Despite her predicament, she seems to be responding well to your words - and exuding an aura of celestial grace. "I am Marmael." You don't recognize the name - but then, there are a lot of names you don't recognize. There are so very many of them across the planes, aren't there? "But seriously, could you let me out of here? Sooner instead of later, please. If you're going to get yourself killed again, I'd like to be out of here first." She tilted her head towards the mosaic on the northern wall, which abruptly shifted to reveal the room where you'd been smashed earlier. "Dumb thing lets me see everything except the next room..."
GM, I'd intended for her to use Enhanced Diplomacy last turn to get an extra +2. Is it too late to do so?
She sighs. She's no reason to trust this Marmael person. No reason to do what she asked. Except that whoever created or ran this **** dungeon put her here.
"Sure. I just need your word that you will not - through action or inaction - kill me. Give me the low-down on who the priest is, capabilities, that sort of thing, and I'll work on getting you out."
"I'm Jya." she adds. Jya breathes, tired.
"One more thing, Marmael: I need someone to sleep with. Soon. I'm angry, frustrated, and I've died at least once. Frankly, I don't care if anyone over there watches or not, I just need something. It's been a terrible day, and I'm really, really tired by this point. So, sweetness, I'll need you to promise to hang around the general area long enough for me to spend some quality time with you." she explains. "If you've got diseases, or your some sort of "**** me and die" creature, you're off the hook: I'm uninterested. If you're clean, however, I promise you a really nice time. If you're not interested in girls, that's fine - I can help make things more comfortable."
Diplomacy:1d20 + 9 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 9 + 2 = 22Or +10+2... Enhanced Diplomacy is being used on this check.
Presuming she begins talking about the man, Jya would get to work on her bonds.
Jya carefully removes her armor, and then gets to work, using her hammer's spike-head, an arrow, and rubble to form make-shift tools. She takes 20 on the check.
Don't know what my total is. Normally, I have a +1 modifier without my armor, for a total of 21. I don't know if that's going to be enough, however.
"Look," she says after a few moments, "I'm sorry for being so blunt. I'm normally... well, I'm normally smoother than this. I'm just... really tired. I've had a long day. I've died. I got the **** kicked out of me by a Tooth Fairy, who then insulted me, after I'd been trying to talk her down the whole time. She even bit me! The fact is that, right now, I'm off my game. I apologize. Just... don't give me any reason to be your foe, please. All I want are friends, at present."
"Well, I'd gladly give you a kiss if you let me out." the perky angelic girl said. "I suggest sleeping with the guy in the next room, though. He really needs to get laid and I don't want to be the one to do it." she shuddered slightly. "However..." she took a deep breath - and you can feel sacred, holy power gathering around her as she looks straight into your eyes. "Upon my name as Marmael and the power I possess, I swear that I mean you no harm. I haven't been able to see much, but he did gloat a bit before. He worships Asmodeus, and while he doesn't have much power, I did see him casting a few divine spells. I think he's looking for shortcuts to power, and a lot of what happened earlier in this pit came about from his experiments. He's probably got at least a minion or two in there as bodyguards, but I've only seen them move at his command. You are good with words, so you might be able to talk quickly enough to reassure him." She totally wasn't advocating pretending to be a messenger from Asmodeus there to grant him divine power - after all, that would be a lie, and she was obligated to avoid lies. Of course, nobody could possibly hold her responsible for whatever anyone else decided to say...
At the mention of Marmael's reward, Jya's eyelids lowered, a rather flat expression appearing on her lips.
"Kiss? Ugh. Fine, I'll take it. Under protest." her mildly annoyed look breaks into a minor, wry smile. More than she was actually expecting, and, though she has to put up a protest, she'll gladly take it.
Charisma:1d20 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 4 = 18
Secretly, of course, she doesn't reveal exactly how much that (semi-literal) heavenly smell of celestial essence both created a craving and a deep sense of loss at the fate of her last two lovers - a fate she was very directly, and intimately responsible for.
Bluff:1d20 + 10 ⇒ (3) + 10 = 13
She eventually breaks open the cage door, and gently feeds her a potion of cure light wounds, before getting to work on the iron braces.
"So, Marael, where are you from?" she makes casual conversation. "Me, I'm from all over. Though if I'd known a prize like you was waiting on me, I'd've come here a lot sooner." she grins.
Still taking 20 on disable device for 21, or less if my improvised tools apply a penalty.
Diplomacy:1d20 + 9 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 9 + 2 = 26or +10+2; I am using Enhanced Diplomacy
"That said, I'm here, today, not because of you - though you're a pleasant bonus - but because of him. I'm actually, fundamentally sent by Asmodeus. Holding onto a contract of power and everything!" she says, winking at Marael.
Bluff:1d20 + 10 ⇒ (19) + 10 = 29 Of course, every word of this is true...
"Personally, I find him pretty hot. Personally, I'd prefer it if he went around in a pair of shortshorts, but, you know, he politely declined that offer." she looks upwards for a moment. "The whole offer for my contract is still on the table, metaphorically speaking!" she notes aloud to the fellow she knows is watching.
She grins, more thoroughly, finally, finally enjoying herself.
"Anyway, I was sent down - or up, or whatever - with a contract and a mission. And that's the gospel truth." She smiles, broadly. No need to indicate exactly how unrelated those two things were. "And, look, no one can say I wasn't fair. I left everything alive that I could in this place. Wasn't exactly the welcome I was hoping for." she says.
When the final thing clicks open, she nods.
"There you go, Feather-touch." she says to Marmael. "Free to work your wicked wiles upon me."
True to her word, Marmael promptly delivered a kiss - with quite a lot of tongue. Only after several long moments of that did she pull back, grinning slightly and stretching her wings wide. "Ugh, those wing-cramps were awful." she said, flapping the appendages in question a bit. "Days of not moving much can really take it out of a girl." She paused in her stretches a moment later, blinking. "...Who sent you?"
Jya grins, broadly. "It could be you, if you keep that up!" she exclaims, happily, breathing heavily, eyes wide. "Today just went from awful to pretty nice pretty much immediately..."
Jya nods. "That definitely settles it, though." she says. "You're getting 'deluxe' treatment later." She grins. "To help work out all those problems after being locked up so long, if nothing else!" she says, looking at her, appraising her physical condition.
Stupid-priest-of-Asmodeus had hurt her.
Definitely had to die at some point.
Marmael was too... perfect... for that kind of treatment.
Her reaction surprised her.
That didn't mean priest-o-goof and Jya couldn't both have some fun first, though.
She looks, desirous and ready, into Marmael's eyes. "Alright, so here's the thing, Tasty-treat," she says looking at her next meal... in the nicest sense for, both of them. "I've got a "thing" I've got to go take care of in the next room. You gonna be okay and/or hang around for a while, or do I need to escort you somewhere first, or...?" she asks, questioningly, suggestively, but honestly, too. She's genuinely offering to help her, should she need it.
"There's also the possibility that you come with me..." Jya adds, "... in either sense." She grins.
The plan: leave her here, help her out, or give her a (temporary) "goodbye", if she's going to leave. If, on the other hand, she'd like to (ahem) "linger" with Hexy for a bit, that would be very okay with Hexy, and some hand-waving would likely ensue. If, on the other-other hand, she'd like to go down the hall with Hexy, the half-elf would not reject such an offer.
If Marmael chooses to stay or to go off on her own, or if Marmael decides to follow along, Hexy will go into the other room to finally - finally meet this 'priest'-guy.
Either way, Hexy will re-arm herself, and take 20 to Perception and any Disable Device checks, and tap every single spot on the floor on the way to jerkface's room. She has a plan for him... and it's one he should (mostly) like.
Regardless of anything else, Jya plans on giving Marael something to defend herself with. She's planning on offering her hide shirt, her flail (Doggy-Pup Bow-Wow), and/or her shield, depending on Marael wants or needs.
"I think I'll guard the exit. He's got a secret door there." she said, pointing to the northern wall of the room before you can even reach it. "Be a bit annoying if he fled through that and escaped the whole dungeon before you could catch him."
In other words... there was a secret passageway to the room where the captive was being held, immediately adjacent to the master's room. There was also a much longer corridor that went entirely around the master's room to head in from the north - with a portcullis fortunately raised so you wouldn't have to smash it - that connected to the very same captive's room.
Dungeons. How do they work?
This room, however, is entirely unlike any of the others. It's well-furnished, enough to make a respectable mansion jealous, with plush carpeting and a sinfully soft bed. The room itself is highly organized, everything clearly put into its proper place... and the man in charge is relaxing in a massive chair, looking highly interested. "Has Asmodeus finally decided to give me what I deserve?" he asked.
She's excited and pleased, and really doesn't care who can tell.
"Ive been sent by The master of the ninth himself, just for you." she explains. "I have a contract of power, and am going to let you sign it... but there are a few stipulations."
Diplomacy:1d20 + 10 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 10 + 2 = 21It doesn't matter if he finds her sexually attractive or not - she know he finds the power 'sexually' attractive (or near enough).
OH! I almost forgot!Bluff:1d20 + 10 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 10 + 2 = 28
"The first is non-negotiable: you will immediately and irrevocably renounce the worship of all gods, rejecting them, their tenets, and their wills. All does, in fact, mean all. Asmodeus has a cunning plan for you, and it requires that you forswear allegiance to all gods.Only by doing so can the method I was supplied with actually grant you power. Lest you think I lie..." she holds up the contract! from a distance! with his seal emblazoned upon it, "to quote the big man himself: never call me a liar."
She rolls the contract up and puts it away, quickly.
"That is, however, as close as you're going to get to it, if you don't submit to the terms. I will destroy it - much to Asmodeus' displeasure - if you attempt to acquire it otherwise. And you do not wish to garner his displeasure."
"The next part is negotiable, but it is strongly recommended: worship me, instead. I am not and have never been a god, but your worship will help me to get to the point where I can start granting spells to followers. Why Asmodeus is interested in promoting me, I couldn't say: his plans are beyond even I. But he sent me here as part of a bargain with me, to grant me divine power."
She purses her lips.
"The third is part of the second. If you transfer your worship to me, you will need to undergo my 'religious rites'. These include: **** me, submitting to the burning sting, and following my path to restoration, and letting me **** you."
"Two words will give you everything you could ever have hoped for and more. You get me. People have literally died just for that privilege." she grins. "Those two words? '**** me.'"
And this was where experience separated the wise from the... well... utterly and completely deluded. A wise man, for example, might have wondered why any deity would have suggested worshiping someone else... or, more relevantly, rejecting all gods and then paradoxically worshiping one anyway. That was the kind of thing that got people turned inside-out by raging Qlippoths.
...
Oh, wait.
A wise man would have caught on to these things - been cautious or afraid, or at least minimally sensible when dealing with infernal beings. However, those who thought they were getting everything would pay far less attention... and the man's voice trembles in anticipation as he tells you what you want to hear.
Some time later...
Because we don't need to go into the specific details...
An unconscious, drugged, and very, very happy naked man - she is tender, giving, and exceedingly generous in her side -, is dragged toward a spiked pit at which point he is unceremoniously tossed within.
"Hm. A shame you never bothered to learn who I was, or that the path to my restoration involved being tossed down into my own pit trap when I was at my weakest and most sated. Oh well, it looks like you're too dead to sign, now. Too bad."
She then rather brutally drops extra things on him - she has lots and lots of rubble - to make sure he is very, very dead.
"Asmodeus did indeed send me to give you what you deserve. Exactly what you deserve. Hey! Fireshorts! I completed my part of the bargain! Your worshipper literally fell away, and figuratively! Now fulfill your, please, spit-fire! Thaaaanks~!" she smiles seductively at the nothing.
She would turn to Marmael. "Well, that was delightful! I'm glad you're unharmed. I have little in the way of magical healing, but can I help you with a massage? Guaranteed: absolutely nothing violent... unless you want it." she grins.
A hard object smacks into the side of your head a moment later... and for just a moment, you can see the crest of Asmodeus. It burns away a moment later, but that's only a very, very tiny part of what you're paying attention to at the moment, because oh gods the power that's rushing into you!
Marmael simply looks on, seeming quite interested at the sudden change in your level of power. "Oooooooooh. I thought you seemed a bit different." the angelic girl said, her wings flexing slightly. "...Uh, did you know that you're fated to go to Hell right now?" she asked after a few moments. "I mean, I probably can't stop you if you actually want that, but..."
You have obtained the Divine Ability [Divine Sneak Attack]. Prerequisites: Sneak attack +10d6, crippling strike. Benefit: The deity’s sneak attacks deal an additional +3d6 points of damage. Any attack of opportunity the deity makes is considered a sneak attack. The deity can flank or catch flat-footed any opponent whose divine rank does not exceed the deity’s and can sneak attack that opponent. The deity cannot deal sneak attack damage to opponents that are immune to critical hits. Any time the deity inflicts damage with a sneak attack, that target suffers damage equal to the deity’s sneak attack bonus damage on the deity’s next turn as well.
Note on Divine Abilities: In this game, Divine Rank and Mythic Tier are interchangeable terms, and refer to the same thing. The cost to use any Divine Ability is 2 Mythic Power, +1 additional Mythic Power for every prerequisite you do not meet. If the effect would normally be passive (as Divine Sneak Attack is), you gain it for 2 rounds/tier - activation is a free action, as all you really need to do to activate it is will it to happen.
"Hm, no, I was rather certain that wasn't part of the contract. Do tell?" she looks hard at Marmeal.
If the girl can't stop it:
"Come with me!" she asks, desperately. If Marmael can't stop it, she doesn't want to lose her again...! Wait, "again"?
If I'm just misunderstanding, and Marmael can stop it, Hexy would ask her to do so.
I'd the girl can stop it:
"I'd rather not, please." she says, quickly.
"Fire shorts, this goes against the spirit - and, to my understanding, the letter - of our deal! What the actual "your-place" Hot stuff? If you explain how this works, I'll listen, but there was no mention of returning to hell!"
She gets a firm look on her face. "You want my presence, I'll gladly come with you (as I've suggested before, presupposing I've a guarantee of my freedom and you not getting clingy afterwards - I know how you lawful types are -, but ask for it, instead of forcing with no warning. I'll be much more... pleasant that way."
Diplomacy:1d20 + 10 + 2 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 10 + 2 + 2 + 2 = 22
EDIT: Dang it, autocorrect!
EDIT 2: Why does trying to fix it just make it worse?
An odd expression crossed Marmael's face. "Er, not now now." she said quickly. "I mean, right now, that's what your fate is. You're going to be going there at some point in the future... probably permanently. It's a little hazy about that, so I think you can still change it somehow."
In which case, I'm going to presume the first spoiler is the one that applies, as it has more RP-significance in Hexy's own mind.
"Oh!" says Jya, significantly more brightly. She breathes a sigh of relief. "Oh, good. Had me going for a moment. It's been that kind of day."
She smiles, wryly at Asmodeous.
"Hmp! Well, we'll see, now, won't we, Hot Stuff!" She winks at him. "I think Death might have something to say about that to both of us, eventually... but we'll see if your loaf of bread will actually outweigh everything else."
She shrugs at Marmael* "I suppose there are worse places to go."
She relaxes, and picks up the item that knocked her in the head, earlier. "It's so cute!" she exclaims over it! (It totally is, even if it's very much so not.) She keeps it. Ooh! Ooh! Info! :D
"Well, Gorgeous!" she says to Marmael*. "Looks like I've got some time on my hands! ... and you've been tied up, too long. Let's get those kinks out."
She grins.
"And don't worry - this will go no further than you want it to on any score. There's a perfect bed, a lush room, and lots and lots of reading that I need to get done, and an awful, awful lot I need to learn about you**. Then, tomorrow, we can score some actual food, or maybe we'll just raid "the jerk's" kitchen." she smiles. "And I'm pretty sure we can take care of any guardians he might have... together." she holds Marmael's hand.
"Either way, I am not long away from that bed. Hmp. Needing to sleep is a very curious experience. Not too fond of it, really." She smiles broadly, clearly thrilled. She's just a bit more whole, and has a smidgen of her divine power back.
I'm very okay with a "fade-to-black" and/or info-dump of what happens next - regardless of its nature. Hexy is low on hp, mythic power, and spells. She needs to rest. She will burn any remaining mythic power before she sleeps on inflict spells on herself.
EDIT: If she has any remaining power by the time she has or would have full hp after a night's rest (unlikely) and if you allow it, she would use scholar's touch as an inspired spell on various interesting-looking books in the room. She currently as 3 mythic power, which she will use on healing first. No scholar's touch for her tonight! She heals 23 points below, which is enough to put her at 32... or 34 after a full night's sleep. :)
Winking at people who aren't on the same plane as you is difficult at best... but gods can probably tell anyway. Marmael - like most of the people you've met - seems to be slightly puzzled at your behavior. "Well, there's not really a lot to say." she said - not taking you up on your invitations. She doesn't seem quite that friendly yet. "I live in Elysium, serving the Empyreal Lords with what little power I possess." she looks slightly sad at this. "I guess I do understand where they're coming from, though. There's a lot of things you can do when you destroy fate, but all the possible side-effects of changing destiny..." she shuddered again. Even the thought of accidentally causing great harm to innocents was repulsive to her - and heavens (literally) forbid what would happen if someone started doing that on purpose. "I could use a good nap myself..." And you know she means this seriously - that cage couldn't possibly have been comfortable, and a soft bed would be great right about now.
Hexy would lead her to the bed to rest, do nothing but Healing assistance (to work out the problems, and naught else), and then relax (and enjoy resting) herself.
Hexy would find a spot near her, but not on her.
(I'm imagining a king-size, hence plenty of room; if not, - say, it's a queen size, or even a twin - this would change to a comfortable, but non-threatening 'next to' position)
"You talk of changing fate as if it's a bad thing. Of course changing destiny can be... but it can also be a good thing, too." She smiles, sleepily. "Of course bad things can happen." she says, lying down, nearly asleep, after having expended the last of her energy and power. "But so, too, can unexpected good things. Fate can be transformed. And different fates can be true at the same time."
"Anyway, casual... change... of topic..." she grins as she says it, delighting in the obviousness of it all, "... you serve the Empyreal lords of Elysium? Very hot. How would I go about becoming one?" she blinks, slowly at the lovely celestial.
"By the way..." she says, nearly drifting off for the first time in her very, very long life, and wondering if she'll wake up again any time soon, "this is the first time I've ever slept that I'm not dead. I'd appreciate it if you didn't kill me..." at which point she sleeps.
Morning plan for future reference: check out the thing that once had her power; look at all the books here; and score some sweet, sweet foodification.
An endless landscape spreads out before you, tinged red by the glare of an impossibly harsh sun. Far beneath you, the armies of Hell march past in perfect order and synchronization, bent on the utter domination of reality. As you try to move, you find that your limbs have been caught by chains... and your stomach (ooooh, that organ!) drops as you realize that every link in their chains was forged by your own sins. Nobody looks up to see you - not the armies of demons, the souls of the damned, or the red-skinned god on a throne that faces away. You may be the mother of multitudes, but none of them remember you and none of them care... and that's how it will be forevermore.
After a long night (was it long? It felt instant!), you're roused by the sounds of someone else moving around - and your stomach rumbles as a smell enters through those two tiny holes on the front of your face. Your companion has made a small fire of some sort, and looks rather cheerful about having obtained and cooked some food. "Ah, good morning." she said cheerfully.
"Fooooooooooooood." she moans, in a zombie-like fashion (though she has little idea of what, exactly, a zombie is). "No m're pr'gn'ncy sc'res. N'd f'd." she mutters softly in a muffled manner, clawing her way in a manner very awkward for humanoids, towards the fire and... um... scent, yes, that was what it was. Freakish humanoids only had scent-detection systems in their noses. How weird was that?
"H'll s'cks 'nyway, an' I ain' goin'." she adds, looking through her hair at the celestial girl.
She readily devours the food.
"Oh. Oh yyy~eeeeEEESSSS~!!" she adds upon acquiring it.
"**** you, Hell! I've now accepted food from this place, whatever it is! Hence I've got a debt that can't be repayed, oops, I stay here! **** **** **** **** **** **** you guys and **** **** forgetting me!" she adds in more than one language.
"Oh, and, by the way?" she says to Marmael, "I totally can't pay you back. Oh well, I guess I'll just have to stay with you forever. Sucks for me!" she says, happily, all traces of zombie-like haze vanished.
Translation for GM:
Quote:
"No m're pr'gn'ncy sc'res. N'd f'd." she mutters softly in a muffled manner, clawing her way in a manner very awkward for humanoids, towards the fire and... um... scent, yes, that was what it was. Freakish humanoids only had scent-detection systems in their noses. How weird was that?
"H'll s'cks 'nyway, an' I ain' goin'." she adds, looking through her hair at the celestial girl.
Could be read...
Quote:
"No more pregnancy scares. Need food." she mutters softly in a muffled manner, clawing her way in a manner very awkward for humanoids, towards the fire and... um... scent, yes, that was what it was. Freakish humanoids only had scent-detection systems in their noses. How weird was that?
"Hell sucks anyway, and I ain't going." she adds, looking through her hair at the celestial girl.
Apparently she tends to excise vowels when she mutters sleepily. Who knew?
Marmael chuckled - though she also looked a little sad. "That's not quite how it works." she said. "People, of course, were given free will by the gods. You could hardly justify condemning them to torment - or rewarding them with paradise - if they were just mindless drones being forcibly moved around by the gods." As she spoke, she gestured with one of her cooking implements. "So it's up to people to decide what to do in their lives. What I can see is the inevitable result of their choices - it's a given that people will do something, so you could also say that while people are free to choose their actions, the results of what they do are basically guaranteed. Um... am I being too philosophical?" This was where people usually started to give her a confused look and begin edging away.
"No, Lovey, that make entirely too much sense." she smiles brightly. "But if that's not how it works, someone has some explaining to do about why I'm supposedly 'destined' for hell." she mutters. "But please, go on." she returns. "I'd really like to hear more."
It was utter nonsense, of course, but most things were in her reality right now, and something had to explain Death's and Asmodeus' insistence that she'd end up in their realms some day.
Marmael scratched the side of her head, struggling to find the words to explain the topic. "Well, that's the choices you're making right now." she said quietly. "It's kind of hard to explain more than that, but... every action has a result. If you don't focus on doing things that obtain good results... then yes, the infernal realms get to claim you." Sin, selfishness, and indulgence had their consequences. Some people accepted those - indeed, were quite fine with them. However, those who wanted to avoid such fates couldn't manage it simply by not wanting it to happen - they had to act in a way that deserved it.
Throughout all of this, however, you can tell that Marmael is expressing legitimate concern over your future. You did save her, after all - and she'd rather not see you ultimately end up suffering.
She shrugs. It seems that she came from the Abyss - was born of the very stuff of the Abyss itself, and lived and consumed every scrap of her long existence in that place, even shedding the greater part of her physical essence there - and hence she would return. **** **** **** some of the so-called "greater powers" if they were going to try to control her destiny.
But that... really wasn't the most interesting thing.
"Why do you do that?" she asked, staring intently at Marmael.
"Do what?" Marmael asked blankly. "I mean, I can't not see the results of fate. It just kind of happens." Like smelling delicious food in the morning when someone was cooking it - speaking of, she promptly flipped over a piece she was cooking. She bit into a more well-done one a moment later. "Mmfh, promished Mom I wouldn't jusht break fatesh, either. Gulp. I only do it for someone who's done something to deserve another chance, like perform a great service for Elysium."
"No, though I must admit I am becoming increasingly interested in your abilities to see the results of fate. (For a number of many and different reasons.) No, I meant care. Why do you care?" she asks, evenly. "Please: it's important to know why people do that."
She looks down. "Is it some sort of sickness? Mental illness? Malady? Insanity? Magical compulsion? Did I do something to you?" she begins to get more agitated as she talks.
She stands and begins pacing. "It... it just doesn't make sense. Why would you care, Marmael? You don't know me. I mean - I could be anything!" she says, angrily. "Anything at all! How do you know I'm not worse than ugly stupid-face over there?" she jerks a thumb in the direction of the dead priest.
"I mean, who's to say - hypothetically, mind - that I'm not the literal origin of all demons as, originally a qlippoth lord impregnated with sinful souls by a **** **** **** oinodaemon who didn't know what he was doing, and had to spend the next several millennia shedding the greater part of my essence to avoid giving birth to more! I mean, I could have done all sort of things! Even devouring my two celestial lovers for the express chance to stop giving birth!" she looks hesitant, and kind of shocked she'd just said that.
Then she powers on. "You don't know! It's totally irresponsible of you to care about someone that you don't know like that - to put yourself in such a vulnerable position! You... you... might as well..." she looks around, trying to grasp onto anything similar, "try to become a demon lord after millennia of trying to avoid that very thing for no reason whatsoever!" she spins, facing Marmael.
"Why would you care about those pathetic, whining, mewling, helpless things, you stupid, stupid **** ****?" she yells, furiously, at Marmael. "They don't mean anything! They'll destroy you! Just like all the others!"
She stomps around. "They're just your children! Just... your..."
Hexy stops, staring into the distance. She walks over to the bed and collapses on it, sobbing.
"And then... you spend... eternity... murdered... waking up in Axis... and being tricked into Hell. You, who were once the trickster extraordinare. The trapmaker. The killer." she whispers in between sobs. "And you made yourself vulnerable to all, ripe for betrayal. You stupid **** ****."
There was a sad, gentle smile on the angelic girl's face - and she quietly reached out to touch your shoulder. "The sun rises each morning." she said softly. "Plants grow, clouds bring rain, and birds sing. I know you've done terrible things - you wouldn't have the fate you do otherwise." she glanced towards where the body of the priest was. "On the other hand, you saved me when you had no reason to do so. You've already demonstrated that you are not completely evil. None of us - gods, mortals, or anywhere in-between - asked to be created. We're all the results of even greater powers at work, and how could we possibly think of ourselves as good if we condemned others for the circumstances of their creation? That would mean they existed only to suffer, with no hope of ever finding salvation - and I refuse to accept something like that. If salvation is to mean anything, then it must be open to everyone who seeks it, regardless of who or what they are - anything less and we wouldn't be able to face ourselves each morning. So if anyone tries to create a fate where eternal suffering is the only possible result..." She clenched a fist, and you can feel a surge of sacred energy within her, faintly resonating with your own power. "I'll break that fate with my own hands."
After a while, she sniffs, and pulls herself together.
"Alright." she takes in and gives out a heavy breath. "If it stops this stupid allergic reaction I'm having, I'm in. What'do I have to do for Elysium." she wipes a hand over her face.
"Why I'd experience a complex emotional reaction that triggers a disease - or at least identical symptoms - I've no idea. This mortal form is so worthless."
"Give me my first big 'thing' from Elysium. (But let's leave Hell alone, m'kay? Thanks.)"
She hesitates. "And... why do you do that?" she wonders, mostly rhetorically, at Marmael's fire. "I mean, I like, don't get me wrong, but..." she stares wonderingly at the girl.
"I want to like the person I see in the mirror. I'm terrified of becoming a person I'd hate." the angel whispered. She clapped her hands together a moment later and dug out a small piece of cloth from somewhere - evidently used by people to wipe away secretions of the body. Boy, if only hordes of demon babies could be removed so easily... "With that said, however, there is something we could use your help with. Somebody, ah, moved a kind of demiplane into Elysium - and it's set up so that being of good can't cross into it. We're a little worried about what's inside of it, so examining it for us would definitely give you some good karma. Except..." she paused for a moment, then looked you straight in the eye. "I can't offer you a reward for doing this. You can, and probably would, physically benefit more by going somewhere else. This act alone would not wipe all your sins away - and you'd have to do it solely to help others, as an honest act of charity, if it's going to mean anything. A supposedly good act done for selfish reasons is no more 'good' than an evil act done to protect innocents is truly evil. The reasons for your actions are more important than the actions themselves - and we only care about your efforts, not your record of success. Mother was always very firm about that."
"But... what's a reward? It's time spent with you. Time spent here. That's enough for me. If it helps you out..." she smiles.
Weird. This whole thing is insane. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Weird.
What was wrong with her... with her people... with Marmael's mother... with Hexy herself?
Then, a thought struck her. "But wouldn't the fact that I do get a reward - a first step away from imprisonment in hell - negate the ability to do a good deed whatsoever by that metric? I mean, I'm not interested in going to the hells just so I can be forgotten, hence it's impossible to truly consider anything I do that also might - however remotely - lead toward that as a final outcome without reward in the paradigm. How would I even know? Perhaps it's just my <i'elwisth> talking... wait, I supposed I don't actually have one of those anymore... but still, the point stands: why would it count at all?"
She uses the weird thing to wipe the sick-symptom bodily fluids from her face.
"Oh, this is a 'nose'! IIIIIIIIII see why people 'blow' it now! I thought that was a weird fetish! Or some sort of weird explosion effect."
Too late to edit, but intended as part of the above, before I got distracted, before...
It was a common argument, and one she'd used on more than one occasion. It could cause celestials to doubt, and cripple surety... and a lack of surety could cripple a person, and guarantee that they became more vulnerable to predators - like her -, confused about what was right and wrong, and susceptible to all sorts of persuasion.
True, it wasn't the most solid case she'd given. She was, in fact, tired, and weak. She couldn't think of all of her past arguments clearly. But, in the end, the argument still held, at least for her. What if she wasn't capable of being "good" (whatever that meant)?
What if she was damned to be alone and forgotten forever?
Without hesitation, Marmael's hand came down in a chop onto the top of your head - though there was no real strength behind it, and it was quite a harmless blow. "You are allowed to think about things." she said sternly. "To consider whether or not you think a course of action is really the right thing to do. Absolutely anything you do has the potential to benefit you in some way, and contrary to popular belief, we don't expect you to be perfect or absolutely selfless. We just want people to try their best and keep trying to improve, even when it feels tough or they're not sure. An uncertain woman who takes a single step forward is lauded more than all the righteous mortals in the universe covering miles in surety. The worst thing you can do is be paralyzed into doing nothing because you think it won't be good enough. Anything you can do suffices."
That was enough for her. More than enough. That fire.
She leaned forward, staring. "Done." she whispered. "Take me."
She blinks and shakes her head, sitting up, then, "There, I mean. And... later, I mean."
She looks around. "I haven't even read yet! Ugh!"
She immediately begins rushing to the books.
Too much. Too close. Too invested. She will devour you. Stupid to become so attached. It will kill you. she thought furiously, angrily toward herself.
She quickly scanned the books.
"Are we going today, or can I have a few days to... linger... here... with you...?" she asks, working on regaining control of the situation and herself.
GM:
IF they have a day or two, Hexy would use her Inspired Spell ability to use Scholar's Touch on all of the books here. We can play it out in-order each day, or we can hand-waive it at your option.
IF they have no time, then Hexy would grab all of the books she can, put them in a bag, grab a few plus elements of the bed, room, or other things (a pillow, blanket, some things like that) and roll them up, tie them to her stuff, and then go.
EDIT: Duh, forgot, sorry. Perecption:1d20 ⇒ 4for interesting books Knowledge (dungeoneering):1d20 + 7 ⇒ (18) + 7 = 25For what she finds... Knowledge (history):1d20 + 7 ⇒ (18) + 7 = 25For what she finds... Knowledge (religion):1d20 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8For what she finds... Sense Motive:1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15For books/room/organization/ideas, etc... and for Marmael
EDIT 2: Why, no, I'm not distracted at all, why do you ask. (Dang it, Attention-Deficit!) Diplomacy:1d20 + 9 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 9 + 2 = 20or +10+2; Enhanced Diplomacy is used Charisma:1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24for general purposes
Marmael shrugged. "That's up to you." she noted. "It will take me a bit to arrange for the trip home - I can't do it all by myself yet - so just let me know a little while before you want to leave."
Sadly, you aren't able to notice much in the way of interesting books... they all seem to have utterly ridiculous titles, like "Supersize your Staff", "Wish: Solving Every Problem Forever", and "Ruling Hell in 30 Days by A. Deus". That last one... nah, couldn't be... right?
Unfortunately, human emotions are still difficult for you, and you're not able to get a good sense of how serious these books are - or what else Marmael might be feeling. Conversely, though, she seems quite relaxed and confident in herself - the type of person who knows what their purpose is and isn't worried about other matters. She seems to be spending quite a bit of time in prayer and reflection while you search, though it's not clear if this is a normal thing for her.
"He was worse than I thought." Hexy mutters, as she rifles, distracted, through his books. She sighs. "Ah, what the h***." she thinks, literally, and scholar's touches the book on ruling Hell.
She proceeds to do this for five more tomes, before grabbing a sixth one at random (?:1d20 ⇒ 9) and, plopping on the bed, flipping through it.
In between reading, eating, and sleeping, Hexy continues to poke about the dungeon a bit, going over the places she's been before, looking at the various work tables, and requesting, if possible, that Marmael preserve her old corpse.
She reads every last scrap of work in this place, no matter how idiotic - she needs a brain-flood, even of stupid things, as she's really forgotten an unacceptably large amount of stuff. And, who knows, perhaps knowing things, no matter how stupid, that people believe, could help her out in manipulating them. It worked with those stupid... stupid... cel...est...i...a...ls.
On the bright side, at least the books are fairly entertaining reading material - the one on Ruling Hell, in particular, is actually starting to make you believe you could take over as long as you carefully follow all the instructions within and make exactly the following perfectly safe and reliable soul-barga- ****it!
That was when you stopped reading.
Sadly, there's not too much of your older corpse that's worth preserving - it's been quite pulverized, and a few scavengers have been at it as well, but you do obtain a few fleshy bits and manage to store them in a flask.
On the bright side, at least you really are learning more about the realms, and the differences in each area are starting to become clear. Each of the nine outer planes has a distinct character, and you've already experienced a number of them for yourself. More concerning, however, are a few tomes buried in the back of the room, discussing creatures of impossibility that should never have existed to begin with. This Dark Tapestry thing sounds very dangerous... too dangerous for you right now, but somewhere that could be worth visiting later.
She grins at the book. "**** you too, A. **** you too." she smiles, kindly. She actually misses him. Hopes he's doing well. He's still a jerk, though.
She keeps the tomes on the Dark Tapestry - could be useful - and, as an amusing piece the one on ruling Hell. Could be hilarious to hand over to a schlub already heading there as a "gift" later.
Of course, she also bothers to gather what she can of the place. Food she can preserve, covers and pillows she can bundle, and so on.
She leaves enough for herself and Marmael to rest with comfortably, of course. And, if she has to leave it all, she leaves nothing unplanned - she know exactly how each piece will fall into its place.
Though she explores a little beyond the dungeons as well, after a while, she runs probably out of things to do.
Eventually, "I am ready when you are." she informs Marmael.
Marmael nodded and led the way out of the dungeon, carefully skirting the problem areas you'd already identified. Once there, however, she calmly got to work. There was a crack of thunder as the girl held out her hand, and a shimmering golden staff appeared in the air before her. The angelic girl slammed the end of the staff into the ground a moment later - and the terrain abruptly flattened as a magical seal spread out from the point of impact. Satisfied, the girl calmly began chanting - and considering the ritual was ten minutes long, you have more than enough time to listen and study as she works. It's a commune spell of some kind, meant to communicate with a deity - and there's another crack of thunder as a planar portal splits the air nearby. Marmael lowers her hands as the magic circle disappears... and just a bit of sweat can be seen on her forehead. "I've really... got to learn to cast that on my own someday..." she said, panting a bit. "Let's go?"
Planar energies slam into your body the moment you pass through the portal - Marmael's fire and dedication to her cause are noticeable, but they're at least within the realm of mortal emotions. Axis was a city of unmatched order, precision-built and utterly without feeling. Hell was likewise orderly, but bent towards a very specific aim: subjugation and domination. Elysium, however? Words flash through your mind - wild. Free. Intoxicating. Elysium doesn't quite match your nature - its innate tendency towards goodness is a little outside of your philosophies - but it's not too far removed, either. It's a place of creative freedom, expression, and emotion, and Marmael sighs happily as the sensations of her home wash over her body.
"Oh, I've missed this..." she whispers. It takes a few moments for her to regain her senses and turn to look around. Her breath catches slightly as she does, and she stops turning, her attention focused on something that seems badly out of place. In contrast to the impossibly vivid colors of the land, a dim and dark door is standing upright, merely... being there. It's already open, almost invitingly, but its threshold is where the sacred energies of this plane stop. "Every time I see it..." Marmael muttered, shaking her head slightly.
