Shactal's page

After waiting a full five minutes, O.L.L.I still hasn’t so much as twitched. His ‘office’ is a desk in a side alcove of the large Lady’s Library alcove. O.L.L.I does much of his research and copying jobs here. A pile of books, stacked biggest to smallest in near order sits on a side table. Justin suddenly hears a bellow

“OI! SUITCASE! Where did you scarper off to, you sodding prat?”

Justin sees the large form of Shactal stomping towards him. The constantly-inebriated ice devil swivels his insectile head about

Alyse’s friend Thorn had once mentioned the Library’s Ice Devil anti-Peak watchman, so Alyse had been somewhat prepared for it … somewhat. It’s hard to be truly prepared to confront an icy, three metre tall devil – especially a drunk one.

“Uh … research? We’re here for research. At the library … could we come in?”

The devil makes a sound that could possibly be interpreted as a grunt of affirmation.

"Public areas only. No taking the books outshide their roomsh. NO TORCHESH!! "

The ice devil hiccups

"Bar that. No fires whatsoever. I'll freeze yeh, if yeh light one"

The ice devil stands aside

"Enter. Mind the walking box, he'll talk yer ears ourph "

Inside is a broad foyer with many reading desks lit by magic lamps. Corridors angle off into what presumably are other Library stacks. A broad staircase leads to a second floor, and others go even higher.

The party sees a square form waddling along the main desk area, a large pile of books carried in spindly arms. A strange contraption like a ball and chain on a jointed pole seems to be coming out of its top

The group hears some thudding footsteps approaching. A large blue insectile face stares out from the grate. Karrin recognizes O.L.L.I's co-worker Shactal, the Ice Devil

"Oi, kind of late for book lanning, innit Berks?"

*burp*

I need a drink...

*hic*

'Scuse me cutters, yeh know the way to the Styx Oarsman?

The large devil grunts

"I'm always ready for free liquor. Can yeh get me a shot of Wild Pazuzu?"

Slurps larva out of the big frosty drink he has

"Yah hit me wif anovver Sharindy."

Shactal snorts more supercold air over the group

"Yeh. What the box said. We may not always play nice but yeh always know what yer gettin' with our lot."

Shactal chuckles, a sound analogous to two cats fighting to the death.

"The sticky point is that most berks believe what they want to believe. They think they can give us the laugh like we was some wet-behind-the-ears cony catchers. Hell is stocked with berks that didn't bother to read the fine print or thought that it didn't apply to THEM."

Shactal chuckles some more.

Shactal snorts, a puff of icy air enveloping the table with a subtle note of brimstone

Yeh think Law and Chaos are the same I invite you down to the Grey Fields sometime. There yeh can get to see the fundemental differences 'tween Law and Chaos.

Shactal chuckles, a most distressing sound

Alla yeh mamby-pambys rattlin' on about evil. You berks never give us one lick of thanks fer all the fightin' and dyin' we do trying to keep the Abyss from swallowing your precious Wheel up like a tender bit of beef.

The large icy mantis creature sits down at the table, the chair groaning in protest. A wave of frosty air rolls off his pale blue carapace, making everyone's breath smoke. It looks around the table at the large motley collection of drinkers and then to O.L.L.I

"What'cher doin' box? I head out to do some errands, come back an' yer still rattlin' yer bonebox and getting nothing done. Shameful it is ... almost ... chaotic."

O.L.L.I bleeps loudly at Shactal's use of the "C" word.

A large form appears at one of the hallways leading off the common room.

"All righ' here still. BOX! Fetch me a drink!"

Shactal pauses at the exit to the World Serpent Inn, snatches a half-drunk bottle of whiskey from a passed out patron and chugs down a healthy gulp

TO XAGYG!

Shactal glances over to the paralyzed gnome holding an empty glass.

"Oi! That lawn ornament stole my drink!"

Shactal grumbles darkly, causing goosebumps to all in sonic range.

"Pike it. I'm history. Be seein yeh Eir. Be a stranger Goaty."

Shactal clumps off to the exit

<Eir nods at the newcomer and then looks back at Shac and rolls her eyes.>

"Nirvana"

I don't get this Mechanus/Nirvana thing, they just don't seem to fit in my cosmology.

Shactal stares over at the new arrival

"That lot. At least they aint as random as Limbo."

I always figured there was room enough for both since the planes are technically infinite. Cogs in one spot, Indian pleasure palaces in another.

Shactal leans down to Thorn

"Get me another Bloody Apocalyse Goaty. That'll hafta be the last fer me, I think anti-peak must be comin' soon and I gots scrolls to mind."

Shactal looks around for the wayward bariaur

"Now where did that rotten goat go?"

Peering around, Shactal spies Thorn engaged in conversation with the young Tiefling dancer he had been leering at previously.

"Oi! One last roll Goaty an' yeh can go back to chasin' skirt!"

The loud yell cuts through the buzz of conversation like a knife, leaving the entire crowd staring at Shactal.

" Soddin' hormonally overcharged berk." Shactal mutters to no one in particular

That's 60 old frosty."

"Old Frosty, eh?" Shactal huffs

"Here goes nuthin'. Call the Kobold's Virtue again ...20

The dice twirl in Shactal's claw. He releases them, and they clatter down the scarred mahogany table

SWEET!

"Right on tha pip! That gives me 55. Goaty? Roll big or buy."

Shactal scoops up the dice from the table

"Right. Well, I didn't get where I am today by bein' shy. Call 20"

1d20+6=21!

"Heh. Closing in. Two rolls ta go cutters."

Shactal notices his drink is gone again

"Soddin' Heaven! This is a thirsty game."

Shactal signals to Mitchifer to set him up again.

LMAO ... SMDOK (Spit my drink on keyboard)

"En? Thor's nut-sack, how long did I sleep?"

Shactal juggles his dice in an impromtu show of surprising dexterity

"You weren't out too long"

Shactal catches the dice in one claw and points the other claw at Thorn.

"Looks like we've lost Goaty"

Shactal looks at Eir speculatively

"Less you can use yer feminine wiles to lure him back."

Shactal glances over at Thorn. He seems mesmerized by a nearby Tiefling girl in a scanty leather costume dancing to the minstrels performing at the dias.

"Oh fer the love of pain and anguish are yeh gonna roll tha bones?"

"I believe the goat rolls next"

Shactal looks over towards Thorn

"Oi! Goat boy! Stop starin' at the jigglies on that servin' wench and roll tha bones!"

"Let's see, 12 plus 24 plus 14....ummm...equals... FREE BEER?"

Shactal huffs

"Don't count yer lagers before they're poured."

Shactal snatches up the dice for his second throw

"C'mon lucky 16!"

the dice leap across the table

1d20+6=9

" ARRGH! Gods bless it all to Celestia! "

Shactal drowns his anger in another long pull off his Bloody Apocalypse

Don't forget that nat. 20 is a double score Kruelaid!

"Honored library patron Thorn, it is a pleasure to see you. This unit is happy to see that you and Shactal are conversing in a constructive manner, arguments are fundamentally chaotic and therefore should be avoided if possible. Besides the incident was primarily a function error in explanation on the part of this unit. This unit should have explained in greater detail about the Lady's Library's no lending policy to the Thorn Unit."

Shactal snorts, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the smirking bariaur

"Don't be a total leatherhead Olli. Every knight of the post gonna spin you a web of screed when they get scragged with the swag in hand. Last time I wuz at tha library there wuz a soddin' great sign with the rules posted in Common, Abyssal, Infernal and Celestial. If Goaty can't read one of those four he shouldn't be at the library, he should be at the Civic Festhall taking 'remedial Common for berks'."

Shactal tosses the dice over to Thorn for his second throw

"Anyways, he's safe 'till he tries nicking another tome."

Mothman take one more throw then I'll go again.

OK I'll go next ..

Shactal returns with a fresh drink gripped in his claw

"Right. I'll try a 15 on this roll. C'mon 15!"

Shactal scoops up the dice and throws them down the tabletop

1d20+6=20

"Booyah! The bug opens big!"

Morning Sam. Morning Frank.

Shactal picks up five six-sided dice and tosses

" C'mon ya sodding dice, Daddy needs a fresh drink fer free ."

D6 Results: 5,5,1,2,5

Shactal surveys the results

"There we are, didn't tie yeh Eir, but I'm in line fer second. Goaty, you in? What about you Newt?"

Shactal glances back at the crowded bar. A large green pitcher sits smoking on the scarred countertop.

"Got ta get me freshup. Be right back."

Wiping the foam of his lip with the back of his hand, he turns. “You in a game of chance? Thought that sorta thing was against your lot’s credo. But yeah, I’m in, depending on the stakes.”

Shactal fishes several strangely-shaped dice from his large beltpouch

" Oh we LOVE games of chance Goaty. Gambling's one of the best vices, since berks hate to lose. I once got this sod's name on the dotted line chasing a 10 stinger pot in poker if yeh can believe it."

Shactal clears the table in front of him of the various empty glasses that have accumulated. He signals to Mitchifer to hit him with a fresh Bloody Apocalypse.

" But no worries. This is neutral turf and I'm not fishing. I'm in Security now, remember?"

Shactal rolls his dice experimentally.

" 'Sides, I need tha practice. Ya never know when yeh might be called back into the Recruitment biz again. Nah, this game's fer drinks only. Loser buys a round. The game is called Beholder's Virtue, it goes like this. Blah ...."

See proposed rules above. Roll a d6 for who goes when?

But don’t fear for my immortal soul Snowy, this cutter ain’t addled enough to make deals with devils. There are safer paths to power than that.”

Shactal snorts, a puff of ice vapor wreathing his face

"If I had a stinger for ev'ry leather-headed berk I heard make that claim ... "

Shactal pulls at his drink and stares at Thorn.

" It's all a matter of findin' the right lever, berk. If I wuz still in my Erinyes suit I betcha I'd have yer hoofprint on a contract faster than you can say 'randy buck'."

Shactal winks at Eir, takes another long pull off his green drink, pauses, fishes what looks like a large frozen white worm from the bottom of the now-empty glass and noisily slurps it up.

"But barring a handy Polymorph we'll never know. I guess we'll hafta agree to disagree eh? How's about joinin' us in a game of chance?"

Thorn at last emerges from the direction of the latrines.

“Ah….. that’s better. Eir m’dear I thought I heard –“ he stops, pulls up short at the sight of the woman drinking with the ice devil.

“Oh. Shactal.” He says coldly, pushing forward again towards the bar. “Don’t you have scholars to torment?”

Shactal's insectile eyes narrow as he catches sight of Thorn

" Well Well. I was wonderin' why I smelt stable. You tryin' to pass yerself off as a scholar, goat? I only torment berks who try to "liberate" books from me workplace. Tha's me JOB innit?"

Shactal swivels around to Eir, showing his carapaced back to Thorn in a gesture of studied rudeness.

Taking the mug from Shactal she pulls her fingers away quickly at first as if she's been burned. "When you get away from Gladsheim for a while you forget how great a cold ale is after drinking for days straight."

And then to Thorn, "Ahhh, I see you've met. We were just discussing the problem of sin."

Turns to Shactal, "Thorn is also somewhat of an authority in this area."

Shactal chuckles again, causing several nearby patrons to wince

" Yeh, he's a real corker he is. Caught him once tryin' to nip out the door of me library wi' a copy of Liber Infernus Nomenii Veritae that was s'posed to be locked up in the Rare Manuscripts room. Shoulda let him go wi' it, woulda served him right, the berk who penned that waste of human skin was fulla screed. He'd be shoveling coal in Dis right now I wager."

" As fer sin, it weighs yer soul down, believe me on that one cutter. I didn't start out as an icy bug. But sin is a lot of fun, and long as it's fun we'll always have new recruits."

Shactal guestures over his shoulder at Thorn

"I'm hopin' I'm outta my current contract by the time that berk comes down the pike to Avernus."

"Heh. Good to keep in mind. So another round of Kobold, or maybe a dice game of Beholder's Virtue? It plays like this ... blah, blah."

Perhaps a game where we call a DC on Spot out with whatever bonuses we have? If you make it you get that many points? Roll a nat 1 you subtract the DC you called from your total and nat 20 you double it? Five rolls, top score wins?

"blah blah ... Any interest?"

Shactal sees Eir in the distance, weaving back to the bar, wiping her mouth yet again and finally pulling up a stool next to Shactal and Serapis, "Confessing my sins, Shactal, confessing my sins."

"Yah, I have good hearing and you--a booming voice."

Shactal chuckles, a rusty, screeching sound like an unoiled iron portcullis opening.

"We all have sins, girl, some more than others"

Shactal hands Eir her drink and takes a healthy draw off his new pitcher of smoking liquid

"Thank the Infinite Inferno this meat chassis I'm wearing can hold its liquor. Hate ta' have to squeeze this big-arsed bug carcass into the jakes."

Shactal arrives back from the bar, drinks in claw. Handing the small kobold his drink, he peers around the common room looking for Eir.

"Oi! Where'd tha bint gerrof to?"

Shactal retreives his darts, disassembles them carefully, replacing the components in the rune-marked ebon case and stashing the box back in his pouch.

"'Kay I'm back to the bar. Be right back wi' yer drinks"

Shactal finishes his latest drink in one slobbery gulp and proceeds back to the bar.

Yes excellent game suggestion Kruelaid

Shactal runs his sensory tentacles over his mandibles in a nervous manner

"Right. 15 it is then. "

Shactal rolls up to the throw line, takes a deep breath, exhales a fog of icy mist, and tosses his last dart.

Guess who's buying?

The last greenish dart flies from Shactal's claw. From the moment it is in the air, it is apparent that it is not going anywhere near the dartboard. The dart flies high, burying itself in a ratty-looking mounted Velociraptor head near the inn's rafters. Shactal stares groggily at this unintended result, then turns to his companions.

"Right. Well, a deal's a deal, and I never welsh on a promise. What're ya cutters thirsty fer?"

Shactal takes a healthy swig off his new drink, hoping that more alcohol will improve his aim.

"Right. I feel lucky cutters. I call Kobold's Eye!"

Shactal wobbles a bit and launches his dart with a jerking motion.

Calls a 20, rolls an 11

The dart flies slightly south of the bullseye, embedding itself in the 11 ring

" Soddin' good fer nuthin' darts, cost me 500 gold Diaboli .... <grumble...grumble> "

Shactal heads to his seat, muttering and slurping his drink in noisy gulps.

Shactal bustles back to the dart game, fresh pitcher of fulminating liquid in tow. Picking his last green dart from the table, he peers down at his elusive goal.

"Right. Gonna hafta givver the ol' 14 ring then."

1d20+5=24!

The fresh batch of high-octane alcohol steadies Shactal's focus, and his last dart flies true.

"Finally a bit o' luck fer ol' Shactal"

Shactal weaves his way to the bar and spots O.L.L.I talking to a red-headed tiefling and looking depressed

"Oi! Olli! This is a bar, not a soddin' funeral parlor. Gerrof your boxy arse and come and play some darts, ya great nancy."

Shactal orders, grabs his beverages and heads back to the game

Shactal rolls up to the throw line a second time. Running his sensory tentacles over his eyes in a futile attempt to get the room to focus, he prepares to throw the second greenish dart

"Think I'll go fer twelve this time"

a depressing nine

The oversized dart, like its' predecessor, wobbles towards the dartboard and buries itself far from its' intended mark

"Ehh .. I need some new Vrock feathers for me fletchings."

Shactal stares down at his now-empty pitcher and belches. The large glass is suddenly coated in a rime of frost.

"Right. I need a freshup. Anyone need a round while I'm off? I'll get tha first if we switch off fer the second."

Shactal rolls to the throw line, weaving slightly as if the World Serpent Inn was encountering rough seas.

"Right. Well I'll shows ya cutters a bit of how we werked it back in the Bone Melters Legion."

Shactal narrows the membranes over his insectile eyes as he stares woozily down at the dartboard.

"I'll try fer the eighteenth ring"

Shactal pauses and lets the large green dart fly in a slightly wobbly fashion

1d20+5=11

Shactal pauses, squints and turns to Eir.

" Tha' aint good innt?"

Shactal pauses and tosses the strange pyramidal-shaped die along the scarred tabletop. Seeing a diddle come up again, he rerolls once more. After another tie, he rolls a third time.

d4=2
d4=4
d4=2

Shactal grunts, a sound acoustically somewhere between a grumpy bear and a tortured ghost.

"Another diddle ....we are on a roll Eir"
5 D4 rolls in case of another diddle

Shactal moves his bulk out of the way and rummages in a large leather sack attached to the broad belt worn about his thorax. He pulls a gleaming ebon case marked with a strange silver rune from the depths of it, opens it, and begins to assemble several large green-colored darts from the disassembled components stored within its red velvet interior.

Shactal listens to the statuesque blonde explain the rules, slurping occasionally on the green drink clutched in his claw

"Sounds good ta me cutter"

how about a d4 roll, highest goes first? d4=2

Eir weaves back, slightly inebriated and wiping her mouth after a rather long trip to the lavatory.

"That was dingy. But I feel waaaay better. Anyone play darts?"

Shactal lifts his bulk from the groaning chair at his table

"I've been known to toss a few. You like Cricket, Yugoloth's Eye, or 301?"

Shactal finally manages to focus towards the back of the common room. Spying the elusive hallway, he heaves himself up from his stool and begins a swaying walk towards the back

"Soddin' lil' cube wans' me ta come alla way out here an' no drink waitin'. Be lucky if he ain' in tha dead book by anti-peak."

Hallway. Last door on the right.

Shactal nods to the leather-clad blonde

"Thanks. Barkeep! Gi' the lady another o' whass she's drinkin' on me."

And you spiky one, care for some whiskey?" Turko offers the bottle of whiskey.

Shactal turns to the stony-looking gentleman offering a half-full whisky bottle. He runs his sensory tentacles along his eating mandibles at the sight of the golden amber liquid

"Mi'ty neighbor ... <hic> ... neighborly of yas cutter."

Shactal snatches the proffered bottle, takes a long swallow and hands it back, the top slightly smoking with frost fog, to Turko.

"Ahh. Say wha ye like abou' tha Clueless, they do know their way around a still."

Shactal scans the room unsteadily, looking for the hallway Eir had mentioned.

Shactal glances over at Eir

"You wouldn't ha' seen a lil' walking box about, yeh?" Shactal slurs. "He wass s'posed to meet me here fer a drink."

A large insectoidal figure fills the door of the inn's common room. Temperatures drop as a bluish 12-foot tall mantis lumbers towards the bar

"Larva ichor and soda" rumbles the imposing creature in slurred Common, pushing a large gold coin towards Mitchifer. "Make the change in copper."

BZZZT-Skwee! Limbo ... roar ... psychic ...war ...the parameters of this existential framework are praiseworthy.