Quickly! Get back down the stairs to Merlin!
Derrik points down the stairs with Excalibur, apparently intending to follow behind....
Daisy races down the stairs to the level below....
Merlin!! We need you!!
Apparently unwilling to leave until Derrik does, MJ waits in a defensive stance with "BJ" held high, and warily watches as the sets of burning red eyes draw closer....
Better hurry, guys, they're coming this way!
The Fierce Ones hurry back down the stairs to the ninth floor, where Merlin awaits them, with six barbed devils stalking behind....
Eh? Wazzat? Trouble?.... Gather 'round, Fierce Ones!.... I shall teleport us out of danger's grasp!
The old archmage extends his hands for the Fierce Ones to take hold....
Marcus grabs Marie's hand and starts sprinting down the stairs for the crazy old wizard, occasionally glancing back behind him to see if Derrik and MJ are following him.
"Guys, move! I can slow them down from here if you start running!" he yells back over his shoulder.
whispers to the party you all go including you marcus get your lovely wife out of here i will be behind you
The Fierce Ones link up by hands just in time....
Merlin teleports them back to Pandora's Box just as three of the barbed devils teleport onto the landing of the ninth floor, hoping to trap the intruders between them and their fellows....
The group lands back in Pandora's Box after the teleport where Blake immediatey breaks the physical contact.
Oh... I see how it is. Only when we are in imminent danger of dismemberment and disembowelment do you listen to the voice of sound reason. Well, I am not gonna say I told ya so. Besides. We got some prep work ta do.
With that he spun around not waiting for any reply from the group and started off. Instead heading to do the prep like he had suggested though, he made a b-line for the mess hall. He HAD been interrupted during a meal to go to the tower after all...
Once safely back at Pandora's Box, Mikey Jay heads straight to his tent and crashes in an exhaustion born of trauma and rigorous efforts in the course of perilous adventure....
Do not judge thyselves too sternly for having to flee the barbed devils, Fierce Ones.... Sometimes, discretion is the better part of valor....
I guess they would've chewed us up and spit us out, huh, Merlin?
Most likely, lass....
Blasted devils. Marcus thinks to himself in disgust.
"Come to think of it, it's been a while since I've eaten too. You hungry as well, Marie?" he says, as he walks towards the Mess.
Marie just looks silently at him in disgust at his stupidity.
Yingzen sits quietly a short distance from the camp. Both swords sit on his lap with his hands resting on the hilts staring towards the camp.
Back at Pandora's Box, the general mood is anxious as plans are formulated for defense against the coming attack predicted and forewarned by Morgan La Fey.
Dr Hoffmann, Professor Dirge, Sgt Gore Illa, Hell-No Kitty, and other Pandora's Box personnel examine aerial photos and maps of the Grand Canyon region where the base is located, trying to predict from which direction and at what targets the enemy will strike, and at what choke-points the enemy might be effectively held by defenders.
Mostly cinematic for expedience, but as the foremost champions of the defenders, the PCs will be expected to be armed and ready to deploy at a moment's notice of the expected day of attack, and to assemble at a central location from which Merlin or Dirge (or a PC) can teleport them to wherever they are most needed when the attack comes.
Blake spends the next few days focusing on the internal defenses rather than the perimeter. His knowledge and expertise was in marksmanship. While one would think that such knowledge would be best spent working on ways to pick off enemies from a distance, there was no telling where the enemies would be coming from and thus waste his efforts spread too thin on several fronts. In the complex, he selected choke points and blind turns to focus his time on, utilizing the terrain as best he can to make sure to dwindle the numbers of their adversaries as far as they all could.
Marcus doesn't know what to do so he just generally makes a nuisance of himself.
Mr Clean, Marcus (and Marie), Mikey Jay, Daisy, and Yingzen are posted at the top of a deep canyon on its east side, giving them a wide view of all approaches to one of several ways into Pandora's Box....
There are several large boulders that can be used as cover, forming a rough semi-circle wall enclosing a clearing about 20 feet across at the edge of the canyon, which the heroes choose as a good, defendable natural fort....
Derrik/Arthur and Radsworth (and Chesterfield) are posted along with Jewels, Hell-No Kitty, Kate, and Grimm at another entrance to Pandora's Box....
Professor Dirge, Dr Hoffmann, Captain Kermit, Sgt Gore Illa, Prue and Sister Maria are posted at yet another likely approach....
Blake surveys the area wondering if any of these boulders could possibly be rolled onto enemies in the event they have to fall back if their position is overrun.
On the night before the expected attack, while Blake is pacing around a natural turret formed by a semicircle of boulders overlooking a canyon, a pair of silhouettes become apparent to his sharp eyes against the moonlit night sky....
One is pudgy and makes a lot of noise as he trudges in cowboy boots across the hard pan desert....
The other is semitransparent.... Ghostly.... And makes no sound as he saunters along beside his corporeal companion....
Uh.... Howdy, partner!
The corporeal pudgy one, a balding, middle-aged redneck in cowboy hat and boots, checkered shirt and jeans, addresses Blake first....
You're the fella I'm lookin' for.... My name's Dwayne Lee Hooker.... I'm mayor n' sheriff of Tombstone.... This here's my deputy, the legendary Doc Holliday.... Don't be scared that he's a ghost.... He's one o' them friendly ghosts.... Like Casper.... You remember Casper? He he! That was a funny cartoon....
Dwayne, please.... If you would be so kind as to skip your accustomed jibber jabber? You're merely delaying the inevitable, my friend....
The ghost of Doc Holliday turns to Blake and bows.
Good to see you again, Wyatt.
Suddenly, Blake's mind is flooded with a recovered memory of a past life.... He was once the lawman Wyatt Earp, and Doc Holliday had been his friend!
In the splendid hall of Sif, goddess of battle-skill, on the plane of Asgard, the radiant goddess pouts prettily.
'Tis not meet that fair Mikey Jay hath abandoned yonder Silver Tower afore gaining mine gift to him, The Bifrost Blade! To boot, that reborn Raven-god hath won through but small trial a sword of equal power!
The Valkyries attending her nodded in agreement.
Sif shall right this wrong, mine Valkyries!
She turns to one of her Valkyries.
Ulfrid, I charge thee a task! Take this, mine very own blade, to the hands of Mikey Jay without delay!
The Valkyries all gasp in shock and disbelief, some even daring to protest....
Dost thou delay in obeying thy Lady's command?
Ulfrid bows and takes Sif's great sword, a long, broad zweihander with rainbow-jeweled hilt and crossbar, and races from the hall in a trail of aurora lights....
Yingzen paces around impatiently.
Come on come on. I am ready to dance.
Marcus waits impatiently, fidgeting and twiddling his thumbs as he waits for the assault.
As Blake begins to reach for his pistol at the approach of the two, the flood of memories assails him, and he is momentarily stunned by the onslaught of images. A full lifetime fills his mind as he feels his head near exploding. He teeters on his heels a moment as he leans a hand on the boulder for support. As Blake begins to get his wits about him, he slowly opens his eyes to peer once again down to the two of them. He then quickly draws and sends a shot an inch from the spectral foot of Doc Holliday with an angry scowl.
You pug faced pi$$ eatin' s#1t!!! Why the HELL did I have ta find out TWO MONTHS LATE that you died!!!
Blake blinked a few times in confusion. He then took his pistol and struck himself in the side of the head as if jostling his brain straight. Shaking his head he looks at the two again.
[b]What in the hell was that?![b]
He clears his throat and focuses on the two yet again, this time sitting on the ledge, elbows on his knees and his pistol still in his hand. The look on his face was one of defeat. This is the second time in a week he was struck speechless. Seriously though... What the hell do you say to a 130 year old ghost that you could have sworn you were best chums while only being in your late twenties IN THE PRESENT. He opened his mouth once... twice... three times... (Much akin to a fish out of water) Then jus grunted in exhasperation placing his chin to rest on his palm and the gun pressed a bit awkwardly against the side of his face looking down at them.
Dwayne Lee raises his left hand in a gesture of peace as he unholsters Daisy, Doc Holliday's Revolver, with his right hand.
As much as it pains me to part with this here gun.... Doc tells me you're to play a more active part in bringing things back to balance....and you'll be needed a worthy weapon....
He turns the handle of gun over to Blake.
Enjoy, bubbah.... That's a sweet little piece, right there....
Blake is bequeathed Doc Holliday's Revolver, Daisy:
+5 reliable distance seeking speed human bane holy revolver.
Blake blinks in awe. He stares for a few moments before rising to his feet. Then, without a word he turns his back and walks off. A few minutes pass and the small statured Earp comes out of one of the complex entrances at their level to greet them.
Seriously? Doc... Your side arm? You were stuck ta that thing like a chinamen to an opium den, dumbfounded look an all.
Blake screws up his face at the strange saying, the words feeling foreign (pardon the pun) in his mouth.
Ahem... Anyway, I never expected YOU of all people ta give up Daisy. Hell, you would gamble away your own grandmother before you even THOUGHT of puttin your pistol on the table. Well, at least not unless you were for sure ta win, and even THEN!
Blake moves up to Lee and extends an out stretched hand to let him rest it in his palm. The balance of the thing was incredible, the condition: Immaculate. He spun it in his hand a few times getting a feel for it. He then pulled out his other pistol spinning them together.
Belle, meet Daisy. Daisy, meet Heartbreaker Belle.
Descending with a rainbow trail on a Pegasus steed, the brawny and beauteous Ulfrid alights with thunderclap-hooves on a shelf of rock in the Grand Canyon, where Mikey Jay slumbers with fitful dreams in his tent....
Dismounting the winged horse, she carries the sacred Sword of Sif wrapped like a babe in a bundle, into Mikey Jay's tent....
On seeing the muscular, handsome, heroic Mikey Jay sprawled out in his bedroll, the Valkyrie is stirred to a dalliance half-remembered as a good dream by Mikey Jay when he awakens on the dawn of the coming assault....
Mikey Jay's eyes open as he awakes at dawn....
Beside him in his bedroll is not the voluptuous Valkyrie he had banged in his dreams, but the magical sword she had left with him, as real as the sun that now crept into his tent....
"A coast-line of mingled mud, ooze, and weedy Cyclopean masonry which can be nothing less than the tangible substance of earth's supreme terror—the nightmare corpse-city of R'lyeh...loathsomely redolent of spheres and dimensions apart from ours."
-H.P. Lovecraft
Maddening screams filled the air. Whether they were from her or someone else, Naomi couldn't tell. Space and time seemed to warp in on themselves in ways too horrific to perceive. It felt like an eternity and a nanosecond at the same time.
But then all stopped. Levinson found herself in a void, silent expect for the slow, even footsteps approaching. A tall blond man appeared wearing attire befitting a 19th century nobleman. He held a walking stick in one hand and an oversized, furled scroll in the other.
"Well..." he said after a long while. "What an interesting pickle you've gotten yourself into, Arcanist. I must say, I didn't see this one coming."
Naomi was exhausted, she couldn't feel any threads of power when reaching out. He spells were gone, Kepler was unreachable, and even Mahatma felt like nothing but a hunk of cold marble. "Where am I? Who are you?" she said weakly from the ground she tried to sit up.
The man looked around with a disgusted expression, "Well, I'd call this place 'hell' but that'd be an insult to home... You are in R'lyeh. A realm of infinite chaos and the collapse of order. Vile little town..." He then bent down low and whispered to her, "And you know exactly who I am. Your people once called me 'Mephitz Tophel Shequer,' but I prefer the German: Mephistopheles. I'm here to get you out of this nightmare. For a price granted, but I see into your soul, Arcanist. You are a follower of Order and of Law. Neither exist in this place. You may try to claim allegiance to the good and noble of your little ka-tet, but I see the real you. Good and Evil mean nothing to you. Science knows not of them, only rules. Good and Evil are just two sides to the same coin. So in that sense, we are the same. My realm in the outer planes is evil to some, but who is to say I'm not truly good? Who is given the right to judge our morality? No one. Absolute truth exists only in the observable and in order."
Naomi managed to get up on her feet and eyed the man with suspicion, "If you really are some deity, why do you make Stephen King references and sound like James Woods in Hercules?"
Mephistopheles' eyes flared and an aura more powerful than Naomi could stand filled the void and crushed her back to the ground. Snarling, the outsider said, "Because you worthless mortal, I am doing you a favour. My true tongue would melt your mind like tallow." He stopped and recomposed himself before continuing, "I offer you power and freedom. A deal I promise you won't get from the denizens of this place. Make your choice." He unfurled the scroll which contained around 20ft of contract, and he offered a golden fountain pen.
Naomi needed to return to the others, and she needed to become stronger in order to stop what had ravaged her world. She reached out and took the pen, raising an eyebrow she asked, "Does this mean I have to forsake my beliefs and worship you or something?"
Mephistopheles scoffed, "Please, what do you take me for? One of those narcissistic Asgardians? I couldn't care less who you pray too, Arcanist. As long as I have your signature, the rest is meaningless." With a wicked grin, he pointed to the blank line at the end of the vellum scroll.
After a moment's hesitation, she signed and tried to give him back the pen. He waved her away, "Keep it. A parting gift." As he snapped his fingers, her world dissolved into flame.
Levinson was flung between dimensions and ended up in a field several weeks after the battle that began this nightmare. She stood up in the middle of a circle of ash among the crops. Most of her equipment was damaged and would need to be repaired or replaced, but she seemed to be ok. Her black hair was turned snow white, and on her forearm below the tattooed Tree of Sephiroth was a new mark: a brand of Mephistopheles' sigil. Other than that, she seemed to be completely healed and no worse for wear. The golden pen was turned to ash as well, and when Naomi touched it, it burst into purple flame. The flames danced through the air before forming into a humanoid shape. From the fire was summoned a small purple imp.
The creature bowed politely and spoke with a refined English Accent, "Greetings and well met, Arcanist. I am Wormwood, loyal Tempter Third class of the great Mephistopheles and duty bound to you for the remainder of your time in this mortal coil."
"Great..." Levinson said grimly, "Now where on earth am I?"
The diabolically-transformed Professor Levinson arrives back on Earth in a field in the Midwest of America--about an hour's walk outside the ruins of Indianapolis, to be precise, and two days before the expected attack on Pandora's Box in the Canyon, giving her two days to find her way there before the proverbial poo hits the fan....
Meanwhile, back at the ranch...
Marcus walks around aimlessly, kicking up dirt clods in his boredom.
Really should have paid better attention in school when they were teaching people how to conduct large scale battles.
"Well, you are quite a long way from this Box of Pandora that keeps crossing your mind, so I say we get a move on."
The telepathic imp shifted shape into a small tawny cat before leaping lightly onto Levinson's shoulder.
"Now, we can explore this town near us for a suitable mode of transportation, or in the interest of expediency, how about that lump of marble hanging from your neck does its job and flies us back." Wormwood said giving Mahatma a nasty glare.
Is it safe to stop cowering yet? Great Ganesh! How horrible! How.... Icky.... The corpse-city of R'lyeh is too terrible to look upon! So many....squishy....squiggly things....and....and....um....Oh, Sweet Vishnu! Are you quite unharmed, my Lady Levinson?
"Yeah... I think so. I'm having a hard time piecing everything together though. It's as if my memories after leaving the Silver Tower have been fragmented or something..."
Levinson shuddered slightly involuntarily, "But regardless, the imp is right. Can you fly us back to Pandora's Box? I'm sure Solomon can help me sort everything out. And hopefully the others are ok..."
"Ah... yes, I suppose I could have elaborated more previously. You, my dear Arcanist, have only been gone from the mortal plane a few months, but you spend the past four years in the realm of the Archduke himself. Furthermore, I have no idea how long you truly were prisoner in R'lyeh. Seems that all of this non-linear time and planes hopping have done a number on your recent mortal memories..."
Wormwood nimbly leaped off her shoulder and flew over to where the corn wasn't destroyed by fire. The feline-imp, searched for a second and then pulled out a messenger bag which he flung to Naomi.
"Most of your previous equipment seems to have not survived R'lyeh, but while on the eighth level and under the Archduke's protection you had quite a bit of time to craft replacements. You'll also find new clothes and such to replace those rags."
He gave Mahatma a condescending look while continuing, "Those of the higher planes may go on about 'Gods help those who help themselves,' but we prefer a more direct approach to get the most mileage out of our assets."
Mahatma transforms from figurine to life-sized elephant and lowers his trunk to assist Levinson into the houdah saddle on his broad back.
Once she is safely aboard, he springs into the air, hurtling his massive form skyward, ears seeming to grow to enormous Dumbo-sized proportions, flapping like great wings!
Hold on tightly, My Lady! We shall reach the Box of a Pandora in the Canyon in no time!
Levinson arrives back at Pandora's Box the following morning, one day before the expected attack.
With Solomon Dirge's arcane help, Levinson is able to make more sense of her fragmented memories of the strange time spent in R'lyeh and then the 8th Circle of Hell under the Archduke Mephistopheles.
He also catches her up to date on the prophesied attack on Pandora's Box, and discusses with her how she might best aid in the defense.
We are glad for your safe return, and assistance in defending our home, Professor Levinson. I can see that your time under the Archduke's protection did not leave you untransformed.... I hope that your soul was not too....troubled....by the transformation....
Dirge seems somewhat concerned with Levinson's alignment and loyalties, naturally....
I wouldn't pry into your personal beliefs or devotions, and assume that whatever pact you were forced to make with the Archduke does not pit you against us in our fight against the Chaos of The Great Old Ones, whose dogma is surely just as deplorable to the Lawful Lords of The Nine Hells as it is to mankind....
Mr Clean and Yingzen, with their keen sight, are the first to see the amazing sight of a flying white elephant with a houda saddle on it's back bearing a female rider with a cat perched on her shoulder approaching there position in the Canyon from the north....
Haloooooo!!! trumpets the great elephant as it glides with oversized ears outstretched closer to where Yingzen, Clean, Marcus, MJ and Daisy are posted.
Please do not shoot us or blast us with magic! We are friends of Pandora's Box!
The elephant's booming voice has a East Indies accent....
(After Levinson is briefed by Solomon Dirge, he shows her where he'd like her posted for the defense--the location where Yingzen, Marcus, Blake, MJ and Daisy are--on a tactical map of the Grand Canyon and Pandora's Box, and she flies there on Mahatma.)
"I could have sworn I heard Apu's voice coming from the sky just now. Did anyone else hear that?" Marcus says, looking around.
Marie looks at him like he's an idiot and then grabs his shoulder and points directly at it.
Marcus has the grace to look sheepish at missing the giant flying elephant.