Hexor-or-Vexor-never-quite-sure's page

Dotting for sentimental element

"That is most unfortunate, would there be anything we could do to hasten his return?"

Vexor shrugs.

Talon, you reach the third level (3-1) and you immediately notice one of the Daemons lying on the ground, in the doorway to 3-9, bleeding like a stuck pig.
To be fair, he actually looks a bit like one right now: A few dozen arrow shafts are protruding from his back. Tiny tendrils of smoke rise from the wounds where the -overly shiny- arrowheads are buried into the thick flesh of the guardian monster.

It's kind of hard to hear anything above the din from the corner of the room (3-9). The other Daemon is holding the remains of an archer, and he is furiously grinding it into the stonework of the west wall. He is succeeding, slowly but messily.

On the ground, the big hulk of a beast is barely breathing. It spots you approaching, and it whispers:

With a mouth full of bloodied boot, the remaining Ceustodaemon speaks, between chews:
"A dreadful insolence has come to pass. Some humanoids prestidigitated themselves up out of the circle here, but when Hexor kindly informed them of their undesired presence, they became intolerably rude!"

The one that must be Vexor points at his dead brother's remains on the floor. After spitting out a foot of leg - mangled boot still attached - he continues:
"I continued by forcibly convincing them to discontinue and dispel their personas from our master's wondrous prison. They complied, but not before grievously discomforting Hexor. A most undesirable situation; now I shall need to wait another month before he can make his move!"

The Next Day....

It is an hour before noon, and your minions are working hard on installing the defenses you've commanded them to build. (I made an assumption!)

"hhhhmmmwwWWWRRROOOAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!"

A deep, fearsome, ground-shaking bellow, emanating from the Horn's highest level chills everyone, minions and masters alike, to their very core.

This terrible noise is what you've always imagined a Greater Ceustodaemon sounds like. It is not a pleasant sound...

Fully aware of the pressure that has been building, Hexor and Vexor contribute their share. They have noticed the movement at the edge of the forest and inform every member of the ninth as long as they're inside the Horn. For anyone they can't reach, they contact a cohort or minion.

Each time, they teleport into existance nearby, invading any ongoing conversation, and their message is similar to this : "dear sir you will pardon the interference but without further ado, your adversaries have announced themselves, hmmm." - before popping off to inform someone else. Within seconds, everyone is aware.

Talon - Sindran, tell us where you're at and what you're waiting for. You can be at the ground level if you want.

me too.

This cracks me up.

Morvius, they have indeed.
who have their tablets, by the way?

At the end of the week, just after you complete a complicated experiment, a gentleman's 'arrhum' subtly draws your attention.
One of the great Daemons stands in the doorway of the lab. You have no idea how long it's been there, but it is very attentive of the monster to wait until you were done.

after clearing their throat, Hexor/Vexor excuses his rude interruption: "We'd like to thank you for this opportunity to increase our patrols. We found the exercise rather refreshing."
It produces a definitely-dead Goblin from under a wing. The top half of its head is removed, including -for reasons unclear- the brain, leaving the limp goblin with just the bottom half of its monstrous grin.
It manages a look of mock pity.
"Unfortunately, we found your subject in a rather poorly state. Oh, and there were more like this in the pit where we found this specimen"

unceremoniously the big brute grabs the both of you and drags you back down to where you left your co-conspirators.
"Gladly."

Again, the stonework and floor plans zip by in a fraction of a second. The dizzying effect probably requires some getting used to.

With the fur on its back blackened in several places, burned and smoking in others, the twin growls: "That. Was. extremely unpleasant."

He points a finger at Sindran; you half expect it to blast a ray of disintegration when the Daemon instead snarls: "Grow a brain and use it. You cannot just walk in there. Look what you made me do - now Hexor will need to go and brush my fur. He detests brushing."

Vexor pops off, leaving nothing but a little strand of smoke.

"gggggrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. ggggggggggrrrrrrrrrrrrrroooowwwrrrrr.... ARR! grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr... YEOW - "
The cornered-cat sounds increase with the lightning elemental's attempts to discharge upon you. It will not be long (not long enough!) before the Daemon will expire under the onslaught.

sense motive: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (1) + 15 = 16
"eheheh-wasn't expecting that ehh, rag? *zap* HOWWrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!"

The Daemon gingerly grabs Caladwhen in one hand, and Talon in the other. It takes a deep breath (which sounds something like a fire truck's engine) and speaks:
"hold your breath. It is easier that way."

Instantly, the world around you becomes a blur. At blistering speed, you faintly recognize stonework - a chamber - more stonework - another chamber - stones, stonework - a stair? - blackness - and as suddenly as it started, Talon and Caladwhen find themselves standing (somewhat wobbly) on the solid stone floor of the balcony (far left of S-2) in the shrine all the way at the top of the Horn.

The Daemon is hanging over you, its back arched. It is emitting an angered, throaty growl, much like that of a cornered cat - except it's a very big, very angry, very scary, extremely dangerous cat...

You can hear the lightning strike uncomfortably close to you every few seconds - The lightning elemental orbiting the dome discharges at the daemon; Vexor is hurt, but he endures. For now.

And if that weren't discomfort enough, the huge silver seal and chains covering the shrine at the far side of the room emit a sickening aura of holier-than-thou-liness, so thick you can almost taste it. But you'd rather not.

"gggggrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. OW! grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr... YARR- ggggggggggrrrrrrrrrrrrrroooowwwrrrrr...."

Extending his paw, one of the Daemon Twins frowns at the prospect of being fried.
"Stay close."

When Ezra fades away, the great Daemon who was still lingering around speaks his mind.
"Ahem. Good riddance... I simply detest that filthy ...rag."

He sighs, deeply.
"Misstress Mage, allow me to present the conundrum your green companion has placed you in: Ezra desires your presence in the shrine; however, the violent Elemental currently inhabiting the dome surely does not. It would be ...unfortunate if you were to escape death-by-Ez-rag *amhmm*, only to be soldered to the altar by lightning, would you not agree?."

Smiling pleasantly at his terribly cheesy play of words, he gives you a second to let the severity of the situation sink in.

"My brother and me, however, have certain...defenses... against what you materials call 'nature'. It will not be entirely without pain for us - but even if I'd were to perish, it'd only be a ... temporary annoyance. Your death on the other hand, would bring the return of our Master in great peril. So - if it would please you take my hand..?"

I'm not sure if the offer extends to Sindran as well. From [H|V]exor's point of view, Sindran caused the problem, so it'd be up to Sindran to care for himself.

One of the bear-esque beings pops into existence right next to you. The suddenness of its appearance is a little startling.

"Ah, I see you've found the pupil's quarters. *sigh* Such a pity. I must say, I find those Sarenraen fanatics objectionably destructive.
Hexor (which one is it for hell's sake) rubs his chin in faux wonder as he continues: "I wonder - I don't see how a good-aligned religion might help others, by bashing their religion. Isn't that how wars start..? oh - wait - he he, silly me!! We're already at war with them."

The Daemons grudgingly admit the wisdom of Aerent's words; two weeks might be necessary, or not - they simply lack the means of discerning how mortals work.

"It will take months to break the seal, and considering how long you've waited, a week or two will not be that long in comparison," Sindran dryly comments to the daemons.

Lightning-fast, the left one's smile disappears. The tension in the room rises with it.

"We have been waiting for a way to release Vetra Kali since years before your parents were even born - present company excepted - so 'just-a-few-months' may not seem that much. But since we arrived here, generations of the mortal pollution have spilled forth upon this Plane. It's distasteful."

His eyes narrow. Sensing his brother's mood, the other one is quick to finish the sentence: "The sooner your master is released...the sooner the cleansing may begin. You have the knowledge; that places your chances of succes well above those of the previous...attempts. Do Not Delay."

"Necklace? oh! these baubles? Well, I could tell you, but where'd be the fun in that? For someone schooled in 'all forms of iconography', *he does not even attempt to hide his giggle* perhaps you should visit the Meditation Hall of the High Priest."

The other one giggles and waves dismissively. "Oh, Hexor, that is just naughty. You know full well the old goat's mind was spent. None of his blathering makes any sense. It would be such a waste of the pretty fleshling's mighty mind!"

whoo, that's a respectable roll there, Aerent...Let's see how they do.

sense motive: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (20) + 15 = 35
"*giggle* oh! oh! Vexor! isn't that just adorable? Mister Aerent Sephim asked nicely!". silently, he mouthes Aerent's name a few more times, practicing to wrap his tongue around the unfamiliar syllables.

sense motive: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (9) + 15 = 24
"Awwww cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuute! I cannot deny it, I do enjoy a little polite conversation. I think we should let them." Turning to Aerent, as if you weren't there to hear the intermission, he continues:"Aerent Sephim, you may go. Is there anywhere in particular you'd like to visit first?"

Leaving the odd question hanging in the air, both Hexor and Vexor disappear. In the blink of an eye, they simply stop being right in front of you, appearing behind you with a hand on your (=Aerent's and Cala's) shoulder.

Even though this is obviously a magical ability, the effect is very dramatic and precisely controlled - in fact, a truly disconcerting level of pinpoint accuracy that can implies centuries and centuries of honing a skill to perfection.

"Because we could...hasten your arrival, and thus, your commencement of the anticelestial ceremony?"

The other one mentions "Yes, even though you are of course impudent mortals with no reasonable right of existence - except to be eradicated as I'm sure you'll agree - the master shall be pleased to accept your assistance if you manage to do away with that repugnant fixture those religious fanatics inaugurated in our tabernacle.".

Their playful malice does nothing to make them seem less dangerous.
"You see - we simply cannot be near it. Oh we've tried, did we not Hexor? Hmmm-mmm we did."

The one who must be Vexor smiles almost apologetically "But resurrecting after a month is frankly such a messy business. Yes, a hassle, even. So, we decided to stop dying-by-trying."

Hexor (I think?) wiggles his fingers* in delightful excitement. "oooh the pleasure is assuredly entirely mine! I can already tell that we shall have so much fun together!"
although their definition of 'fun'...might be slightly different from yours. Especially if you'd be so lucky to find yourself on the receiving end of said fun.

"Would you like to start releasing our mutual master?" As if the giant, toothy grin alone wasn't enough to make it clear that this is not really a question, the giant Daemons gently 'invite' you to the spiral stairway heading up.
There is the detail of the lightning elemental, though.

* think Oliver Hardy.

One of the two impossibly-similar-looking Daemons looks up from the game board. It speaks in a deep voice, dripping with a calm, educated eloquence that's so polite it sends a shiver down your spine and raises all your neck hairs.
"How terribly unfortunate. Vexor? 't would appear we have visitors. Do you remember the last time we had visitors intrude on our game?"

The other Daemon just nods, his eyes never leaving the board. He's playing black, and both parties have but a few pieces remaining. Not the best time to be interrupted in one's contemplation - Nevertheless, the monster is impeccably polite.
"If memory serves, my dear Hexor, the last visitors met with a disturbingly direct departure, did they not?"

Dear gods, even their voices are alike!
"Come now, Vexor, do not be coy! You know full well it was your intrepid intervention that interspersed the interlopers." A quick swipe with both claws shows exactly how the interlopers where 'interspersed', and why you never found any remains...

"oh - intersperse. Chapeau, Hexor. I do remember there were giblets strewn everywhere." The giant Daemon gently tilts its head slightly, then slowly taps his claws together in recognition of the other's vocabulary.
"Fortunately, they mention the master by name. That leads me to believe they might be of more use to release the master than those last querulous quarrelers. What say you, Hexor? Should they be allowed to pass?"

All of this takes well over a minute, and although they pretend to ignore you, it is quite clear that Hexor is in an ideal position to breath-weapon-the-cr@p out of you all. They are confident in their ability to stop you, should they choose to.

Hexor looks up at Caladwhen and smiles - a three feet wide gap of teeth opens slightly, as he claps his hands, then spreads his arms wide...