"And one for me too Asmodia, both a drink and a touch of the wand..."
CLW
"Excellent work out there again friends, our number still stands strong against the slings and arrows they send our way. Bejis and I will stand together as he says, ready to face off whatever the last challenge is"
Whisper - Bloodless, do you think I should enlarge you next time? Bejis as our ogress makes sense. I am just wondering about how the crowd - and the devil priests - will respond if you also grow.
Bloodless nods that he agrees with Aeriths reasoning...
"Not sure a giant torturer was also in the script, best leave as is. If things get out of hand though, lets not sacrfice ourselves over art"
Whisper- Also, I have two scrolls that will allow me to create magic armor. I do not know if it is much better than what Asmodia already has, but I can use them on Asmodia and/or Calseinica if we think that they are needed.
In reponse to Asmodia, "One more trial, then we can have a drink. Though I wonder if our 'adoring public' will want to see us after the show... Also, perhaps you should keep the wand ready for the next trial."
Looking to Aerieth, "Making us so big makes it harder to duck," Bejis winks at Calseinica, "so the magic armor would be a good follow-up."
To Bloodless, "We may get more than one side. In which case we'll have to do our best to provide cover."
"Perhaps you cover the most likely advance, and I will stay on the opposite side. If they all come your way I can be over quick smart, but if they come in from two directions at least we wont get caught out"
Nodding to Bejis' response, I reach into my scroll case and withdraw 2 scrolls.
I cast Mage Armor on Asmodia and Calseinica (I already have it cast on me for 3 hours starting at the beginning of the battle).
Mage Armor --> +4 AC does not stack with Admodia's leather, so her AC really only goes up by 2, but the Mage Armor also works against incorporeal attacks. Not sure whether it helps against Touch Attacks. +4 to AC for 3 hours for Calseinica and Asmodia.
LeVash makes liberal uses of the wand, "A touch of the wand is not sufficient. We need to make sure everyone is completely heared and healthy. We'll not lose anyone now by playing the skinflint."
LeVash puts away the wand , "..and done. I've got one more blessing in me, as well as some curing outside of the wand. 'Krona' and our Torturer are indeed our best option against 'a legion of devils', so I'll likely be concentrating my efforts on supporting them unless there is good reason to believe I can be of more direct use in the fight."
Thanks LeVash.
Asmodia looks in the direction the Asmodean cleric exited when Bejis mentions adoring public. "Oh, aye," she sings and lets her eyes rest briefly on Calesinica, wondering how they were to protect the girl at the conclusion of the show.
Asmodia's brain was boiling with the multiple inferences of the puzzle. It was clear that Thesing had to die, and if Delour was willing to go to such lengths to be a witness to Calsenica's death, it was almost sure that she could take her considerable influence elsewhere and allow for far less skilled bravos to end the child in some dark alley. After all, this was Westcrown, and as stout as the sow was, it was sure that she could convince some similarly minded Dottari to look elsewhere while she removed her competition.
Wisdom, and Hold... but what about Silence? she glanced at Shade and narrowed her eyes.
"Legions of demons?" she repeats, her delivery indicating that she was clearly distracted. She grins, showing her incisors and feral determination. "Brothers, this is Westcrown, what else is new?"
"Demons eh? Well we certainly seem to have enough of our own without having to face some brought along for entertainment"
Bloodless ensures his armour is well fitted and sword ready to draw, keen to get this last real Act out of the way.
As you spread out around he stage Delour comes back with a smug expression. Her performance as always was magnificent, flawless, and with immense passion. Seeing the girl shaking like a leaf leaves n even bigger smile on her face. This causes the gentle, panicky, and beautiful Calseinica to morph into an altogether much more terrifying creature, beautiful still but hard as diamond and she roars in the divas general direction taking the diva by surprise.
"Yeah you smile you smug you huge gelatinous lemure! Over emphasized my bony ass! But that's fine! That's okay! Because guess what b*!!+! I'm going to survive this! I'm going to rise above it and above you and above that foppish excuse of a man!" Then suddenly she rushes Thesing and nails him in the fork with a kick that makes the male members of the group wince with terrible agony. The actor doubles over in pain as Calseinica goes back to her position leaving Thesing to half groan and half growl in rage and pain. "That's for simply existing you vain, arrogant, ass!"
The curtain rises to a self satisfied Calseinica towering over all of you through her sheer force of presence. Thesing manages to pull himself to his feet before he comes into view proving himself to be master of the craft by spinnign his pain and anger into his performance.
He turns to the audience.
"How can this BE! Four trials broken, and still they prevail! Asmodeus smiles upon them. Does the Dark Lord truly know of my compact with the abyss?
He turns to the audience with fear in his eyes though its clear the rage has not left him.
"It cannot be, or I am utterly undone. True or nay, I must try the last. I shall plunge their faith in pitch and acrid stew, and see if they hold to the cause."
Then turning to the group he roars with all the hellfire and passion of a true accuser of hell. His eyes smoldering with black and ineffable hate.
You sickly whelps profess undying devotion to one another! Another smoldering lie flung from your dark holes! You but conspire to confound this court and our Dark Majesty! ’Tis ye who contract with demon-spawn and seek my undoing, in service to some slimy mistress or master of the putrid abyss! Your vile benefactors have thus far warded off justice’s dark hand,
While LeVash doesn't comment on Calsenica's action, he nods slightly, and there is a hint of a smile on his face.
Dentris deflates, fallin to his knees before looking up at the ceiling, "More? I cannot last. My old heart gives out." He turns to Lazarod, "Go on without me, master. I served your father faithfully. Alas, I am found lacking in the face of his half-breed son. The challenges, ever dire, cleave my soul from me. May Asmodeus keep me."
--
Lazarod shakes his head, "No foolish talk, old wizard. Haven’t you claimed immortality a thousand times to any bent ear?" Lazarod stiffens up, his voice sounding much like Aerith's Dentris, "'Old Dentris Maltrada cannot die', ye said. 'I’ve eaten the heart of an ancient Red Wyrm, and warmed by his fire, my soul burns eternal.' "
He reaches out to Dentris, ready to help him to his feet, "Get up, my dear friend, more father to me, than ever any father was. Your duties are not abated. Your task is yet undone."
Tybain watches the proceedings, apparently untouched by the pathos of his very own prince of hell rousing his father. "Let him die. He’s suffered long enough," Tybain dismisses, "and we’ve suffered his blustery speeches even more keenly. Kick off, old bag, and be done with ye!"
Dentris fairly glares at Tybain, the gesture chilling even though the old man continues to kneel.
"Why you shiny beetle! You quivering pall-o-dine of a sniveling young whelp turned demigod! You plump kettle!" he hurls chilling insults, or at the very least, insults the idiot Tybain is likely to understand. He begins to rise, his quivering knees giving testament to his weariness. "I’ll bring the all-encompassing powers of a thousand worlds crashing down upon your head! The keening song of dead gods warble at my command. I’ll leave your mind a tatterdemalion of a sad rag. Die! he hisses.
Dentris rises finally, and strides confidently to the paladin, his glare fixed on the paladin's breast. "Die, you say!" he hurls the words at Tybain. "Nay, not till I’ve seen the last oafish breath squeezed from your lungs by tongs of fire—you simpering Aro-din-din!"
Asmodia's Tybain finds no small amount of amusement in Dentris's performance. Had Calsenica responded in kind... perhaps the pit in her stomach might be sated with something other than bile for the actress. Although, she had enjoyed watching her foot connect with Thesing's groin. If only she had such accuracy with her attacks...
Tybain grins, his incisors showing in the feral expression. "Looking more lively now, aren’t we?" he inquires.
Bloodless keeps an eye on the set, looking for any clues about where the attackers might pour from or any other slight warning that might give him an advantage...
Perception
Likewise, Bejis countinues his vigil, looking for things that might lead to "accidents" or other signs of sabotage.
Lazarod smiles openly, seemingly having forgotten the trials entirely, {b]"Peace, old man. The pall-o-dine works a righteous healing upon your old bones...applying the only balm your withered heart desires, spitting ire and uncouth rage."[/b]
He shakes his heal, fondly amused, "Bile for balm, bile for balm —what a wolfish old man, a terror to kings and angels...Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Dentris Maltrada. He knows no equal."
--
Dentris plays his 'grumpy old man' part to the hilt, thought it is obviously an act, and Dentris' spirits seem lifted, "Enough, pup! I am much abused. Lay not your hands on me, pall-o-dine! I’ll rise without your Power’s urgings. I’ve work left indeed."
Dentris snarls. Enough, pup! I am much abused. Lay not your hands on me, pall-o-dine! I’ll rise without your Power’s urgings. I’ve work left indeed.
EIlsandra speaks soothingly and lustily as she grabs on to Larazod's arm.
"Strange old wizard, loyal and dear heart. He’ll join us in the marriage bed and one last night of bliss will be his for the taking!"
Lazarod blinks a few times before responding, "A lovely sentiment, my princess of Hell...disturbing though it may be."
"Enough. It is time. I am not long of your company, but know that I would stand by you all through six hundred trials. Take hands with me, half-breed. My sins and yours are one. Our destinies intertwine, and I walk your path with you to the bitter burning end"
Bloodless allows himself a small chuckle, knowing that they might all get to a bitter burning end indeed...
Lazarod places his hand onhis breast, inclining his head, "I’m honored."
"How touching. These sentiments of yours are nothing but dreamy clouds, soon to be shred by The Prince of Darkness’s blasting winds." Haanderthan snarls.
Larazod is next.
Lazarod gazes into Ilsandra's eyes, igngoring Haanderthan entirely focusing only on her.
"Face of hazy dream-like bliss, kiss like fire. I burn for you, princess. Cling to me, dig your talons into my chest and touch my heart with white-hot caress."
Bloodless continues tolisten to his comrades, but his eyes dart this way and that, still seeking for a clue of whats to come...
Ilsandra wraps an arm around Larazods neck and settles a hand on his waist.
"I am yours for one thousand blissful years. Drink my sizzling blood from my wrist, or anywhere else you like— let us seal this sinful compact and consummate our love in the heat of battle."
Feeling an overwhelming sense of nausea to witness Shade get any amount of play, Asmodia's Tybain, the grub virgin, directs his eyes to the cantankerous wizard. "Dentris, you old cur, dog curled by your master’s feet," Asmodia's Tybain nearly slurs drunkenly, having quite some practice at the reality. "I can’t call you friend," true enough, Asmodia's... experience with Calla had made her quite wary of females with elven blood, "but a truer servant I’ve never known. Loyalty is the mark of greatness. Know that my sword is yours!"
Wait, Asmodia thought. Even though she had read the script probably dozens of times, she had not considered the delivery of that particular line until now. A paladin subverts his will to a wizard? Never in reality would such a disgusting act occur!
Ilsandra removes her hand from Larazod's hip and places it over her sumptuous bosom bowing her head ever so slightly to Drovalid in respect.
"Great Tormentor, Drovalid Vorclune, let it be said a man who can bear the vicious ministrations he renders upon his foes is a great man indeed. Though I am pledged to this young half-breed, know your courage sends shudders through my loins."
Bloodless visibly chokes back some sarcastic comment that was surely about to spring forth from his lips, and instead delivers the correct lines...
"You do me sweet honor, great lady. I stand in awe of your passion, and these worthy nobles’ unshakable courage. Even this milksop of a pall-o-dine stands hard against the torments of Hell—harder than the fiercest witch."
"Hope he isn't standing too hard" Bloodless snickers to himself.
Dentris continues to glare at his accusers while simultaneously scanning the area for what might come next.
Perception:
Unfortunately, all he sees is the smirk on Thessing's ugly face.
Unfortunately, all he sees is the smirk on Thessing's ugly face.
Krona clenches both fists, holding them together in front of her. "I am already destroyed. Shatter my bones to dust and flense my flesh a thousand thousand times and still I will not have suffered the length of pain inflicted on me today."
Krona then slowly slumps, letting the energy out of her.
Lazarod seems a bit sad, his regret evident at Krona's pain, "Though I never desired your love, I have always valued your companionship, fierce Krona."
Krona looks up from her slump, eyes filled with her pain and defiance. "Hollow words from the man who destroyed me so."
"Then hear words from one who would see you uplifted and renewed. Ever since mine eyes have laid upon you I have dreaded to bring my lash against you." Bloodless addresses to all and sundry...
"Hope you brushed those teeth Bejis"
With hot, almost angry eyes, Krona snaps to face Drovalid. "Just as well. All should fear to bring harm to me lest I tear their heads from their shoulders and spear it on my spear as I paint my skin in their blood as a warning to all who stand against me."