"If he does not pee himself in terror, you have failed!" Tyranthraxis says as he slams a fist into the flanked foe.
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"Fools!" Tyranthraxis bellows as he dodges the alchemical weapon. "I will rip you to shreds and raise you as an undead army!"
"Is that the best protective spell you can muster?" Tyranthraxis asks his apprentice. "After all I had taught you?" The distracted phantom slams his ectoplasmic fists into the nearest Aspis thug.
"I told you to close and disable that skylight, pathetic mortals!" Tyranthraxis rants. "And what did they do? Descend through the skylight! I blame my apprentice!" the phantom says.
Tyranthraxis glares from the corner.
"Finally, some sheep to the slaughter!" Tyranthraxis whispers from opposite Ling.
Luthic accompanies the frightening Tyranthraxis to the opposite side of the door Ling guards. "I will simply scare them all away, or I will kill them all!" the phantom bellows.
"Smoke? I am made of smoke, thanks to my pathetic wretch of an apprentice! But that will all be remedied soon, and then I will look for much more capable help!"
Tyranthraxis prowls around the room. "There are too many places of ingress. We must make an attack can only come in through one door," he says. "Since my pathetic apprentice has left me without the means of moving boxes myself, albeit temporarily, I command the rest of you to start moving crates in front of some of these entrances."
"That's what you said when you mistakenly provided me with rat guano, rather than bat guano," the phantom says with obvious irritation.
"I am intrigued by your idea," the phantom says. "Though we would need to purchase some scissors and combs with the ghost touch property. Perhaps later."
"I tire of these delays!" Tyranthraxis mopes. "Though I have an eternity to wait, I suppose."
"That is how one kills a beetle, my feeble apprentice!" Tyranthraxis nods as Ling tears into it.
"Typical of your shoddy work!" Tyranthraxis chides.
Tyranthraxis looks upon the woman with anger. "Do not touch me, and cower in fear you pathetic wretch!" He holds it up and examines it, but can't make anything of it.
Tyranthraxis, in his ectoplasmic form, walks through the sewage to the other side; apparently this is nothing big without a sense of smell. Reaching the opposite bank, he looks around. "Foolish mortals!" he says as he looks at the drug addicts. "What I would not give for a physical form once again!"
Tyranthraxis stalks ahead curiously.
Tyranthraxis shakes his head and is clearly not happy, though he has yet to appear happy. He hands the documents to Luthic. "You have proven yourself yet again the most inept apprentice. Your companions have been little help, either!" he adds, looking at the soaking wet Pathfinders. "Let us get this over with. I will complete the mission alone, if I must!"
Tyranthraxis ponders his situation. "Imbeciles! I must do everything myself!" Looking at the locked door behind him, the phantom assumes his ectoplasmic form, one in which he can manipulate the papers. He takes them and slides them under the locked door.
Tyranthaxis condescends to the menial task before him, working his way around the ship looking for documents.
Seeing the others flailing in the water, Tyranthraxis says "Weaklings! I must take matters into my own hands if we are to salvage this mission and gain access to the Pathfinder vaults!" In his incorporeal phantom form, it is a simple matter for him to pass through the ship's hull.
"Incorporeal form! I would not be in this situation but for your inept mistakes! You sniveling, pathetic wretch! You fail to sufficiently honor me with this menial suggestion!"
Tyranthraxis continues to rant. "...becoming a lich is no easy process, but one made impossible without a proper apprentice..."
"WHERE DID MY NEW APPRENTICE GO?!" the phantom frets. "One does not simply leave the presence of the mighty Tyranthraxis without permission!" Luthic rolls his eyes, but takes care to do so only when the phantom is not looking his way.
The phantom figure next to Luthic looks on in bewilderment as the group discusses its hair. "SILENCE, MORTALS!" the phantom bellows. "I am Tyranthraxis, mighty sorcerer and not one to trifle with! There is no time to discuss such trivialities! My pathetic apprentice assures me that this organization has access to important records! Our first goal is to complete any requirements for gaining access to the Pathfinder vaults and libraries! Must we complete a mission? Then on with it! Only with access to these vital records will we be able to determine how to reverse the shortcomings of an incompetent apprentice!"
Upon Igor's saying the word "Mathter" for perhaps the tenth time, a gust of wind washes over the group. An eerie feeling, like fingernails on a chalkboard, accompanies the wind. "Silence, pathetic apprentice!" a voice sneers. "I am your master, but I do not need to hear it ad nauseum!" the voice adds. A spectral form materializes next to Luthic and looks at the auburn-haired man darkly. "Oh, it is not you calling for me. Did I tell you you could fraternize with these mortals?" the spectral form asks harshly. "You do not yet serve me," he says to Igor. "But perhaps we could work together to undo the horrors of an incompetent apprentice!" |