Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Xaltwind
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Xaltwind Disgruntled Dragonfly

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((Collabs with @The Irish Tree and @Lucius Cypher
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Rockin Strings
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Rockin Strings Mechanically intelligent, musically inclined.

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@The Irish Tree@Archmage MC

Gromgard sighed as Light left. "Now that she's gone, I can bring my friends in." he smirked, opening a portal hole for his 5 strongest goblins to climb into the room. Each one held a battle-hammer and wore fur armor. "Have fun, boys." he laughed, letting the goblins beat on the cultists. Once they were beaten enough, he healed them before asking them more questions about the world. Just as he was about to send the goblins back to the cultists, Light returned with the flan.

Gromgard sighed in annoyance as he turned to face her. Looking at the flan, he tilted his head. "Do I want to know what you're doing?" he asked, waving the goblins away. He knew they would get lost with her aura, causing them to go feral and begin fighting each other.
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by The Irish Tree
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The Irish Tree Hot-Blooded Loser

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Act I

@DracoLunaris


@Archmage MC@Rockin Strings


Collaboration with @Enkryption






Act II: Blood and Amber

For those of you that are still tending to business in Act I, make sure to tag the post with Act I or Act II depending on what part you’re focusing on. If you don’t, I’m going to assume that its keeping up with Act II.



Hidden 5 yrs ago 5 yrs ago Post by Lucius Cypher
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Lucius Cypher Looking For Group

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Over the course of time, Mamoru’s main duties were the same as they usually were: keep the Chateau clean and command the skeleton butlers. She has also been loaning them out as basic labor to any of the other chapter lords or characters who she would trust with them. Their undead nature makes them perfect little cogs in the grand machine that keeps the Chateau growing. Meanwhile Mamoru has also been receiving information from her clones, however during those interactions Mamoru felt slight hints of guilt.

She never truly told Rodias that she had done this. She had, of her own accord, sent these clones out and would even go out of her way to obscure their existence or purpose. She didn’t even tell Ashara, feeling as though such things were on a need-to-know basis, and no one needed to know. Or did they? In the end Mamoru did tell Rodias honestly that she had sent a clone out to the town of Gronbell, and would remain on indefinite investigation until otherwise notified. What Mamoru failed to mention to Rodias was the other clones scattered around the world also undergoing their own adventures and investigations, but she at least implied to Rodias that she has a clone out there, and is capable of sending more. That was enough to ease Mamoru’s woes.

More time would pass before eventually Mamoru was called upon by Rodias. He was holding a meeting with other powerful chateau members, so Mamoru ceased her current task to go tend to him. There he announced his intentions to take over the leadership of a local lord via proxy. An excellent idea: this effectively grants Chateau total control while the native populace are none the wiser. Very important since they’re still gauging the strength of this world. Additionally Rodias even carved cute miniatures of everyone! Mamoru made a mental note to see if she can take one with her after this meeting.

Rodias would than explain Mamoru’s purpose: she was to infiltrate the manor as a mere maid and perform some basic espionage. She smiled with glee and accepted this task: she loved doing skullduggery! Not to mention thanks to her information network, Mamoru knew how to create a false identity using various far away villages so she can assuredly come across as a native and not an outsider. She knew a village of draconoids, a bit of their customs, and how someone such as her could come into the service of such a lord in these distant lands, thanks to one of her clones who have integrated into the community.

“I will not fail you, my lord. And I will make sure Bone Daddy returns to the Chateau on standby, ready for whatever task you’ll have him do.”




Meanwhile this past week Butterfly has been making a bit of a urban legend of himself. While still hidden behind his illusions, he has been protecting and researching the ritual site. He concludes that the location is a very weak summoning circle, possible to summon perhaps a level 10 minor demon with sufficient offerings. Whoever doing the sacrifices however lacked anything of value: the bones and remains were of fairly weak people. Hundreds more would need to be sacrificed to get anyone’s attention, and thousands more to seal the deal. Butterfly could construct a level 15 Sword Wraith Warrior using just the parts here, and in fact did, just to spite the fools who decided to try this bizarre ritual instead of using necromancy like any sensible mage.

That being said Butterfly’s post had been quite peaceful. Occasionally human hunters would come close to the ritual site, but Butterfly and his sentry never needed to appear thanks to the bunnies. Bone Daddy had been raising some local rabbits in captivity, making them fat and plump until they grew into adults and had children, and then he’s peacefully kill them with his magic and raise them as undead. Since they were freshly killed rigor mortis hasn’t set in, so whenever wanderers came too close Butterfly simply distracted them with a fat and juicy hare. Then send said wanderers on a bit of a chase to snatch up the tender morsel once they’re far away enough from the ritual site. This has created a bit of a rumor that it’s a good time to hunt rabbits now when you hear the song grass, the stuff that grows near the ritual site.

All things will come to an end however as Butterfly received a command to return to the Chateau. He ordered the Sword Wraith Commander to stay and protect as Butterfly returned to the Chateau. He also brought the rabbits along and intends to gift them to the others in the event they want a fat rabbit as a pet or meal. He let some of the younger rabbits go free in the forest and only took the ones ready for slaughter.

Butterfly stood alongside his fellow skeletal brothers outside of Rodias Throne room. They were gossiping about the recent happenings in their native Bone Chatter, a very subtle language known only to skeletons. Though technically their superior and even their creator, Butterfly spoke casually to his fellow skeletons as he himself is simply an underling to Mamoru, and they are all subservient to the Sable Lords, so the formality of hierarchy need only apply to the chapter lords and the creator himself.

They spoke of many things they’ve heard and notice, mostly about the potential drama between the chapter lords. Many have noticed that they have not been sent to the sixth chapter at all, wondering if perhaps Mamoru has issues with Chunnitrix, or possibly if Chunnitrixx will not allow outsiders in her domain. They’ve also overheard Kath being furious about something shortly after her mission, with the common rumor being that Lady Ashara might’ve done something untoward Kath during the quest, as she was the only one present during that mission. The skeletons silently gossiped among themselves to trade secrets and here-say, standing perfectly still and quiet while carrying an assortment of drinks, platters, and snoozing fat rabbits.
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Lugubrious
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Act I


A rapping sound came from the door to Graft's laboratory. High frequency plus less-than-strident volume, with the inclinations of his various minions in mind, meant it could only be one person. “Come in, come in,” he said, not looking up from his work. Using the magnification function of his spectacles, he kept his eyes on his subject, the recycled head of a Guard half-melded with one of his devices, in this case a Bionic Regenerator. The procedure he was performing, being plugged into the operating table and able to manipulate its myriad arms, was by no means easy, but he could still spare the effort to listen as his visitor slid open the door. A heavy thing replete with bones and solid, calcified gristle, it took some effort to move for someone without his ability to command mechanisms, but no effort on this visitor's part was wasted. As he connected a wire to a neurode bundle and started welding them together with nanoflesh, he heard the sounds of swishing fabric and clinking metal grow louder as the source drew nearer.

After another moment Graft wrenched his hands free from the connective innards of his terminal, leaving his project suspended. “Tabula,” he greeted, speaking first as always. “Are you not in the middle of your studies?”

She nightgaunt nodded. With the suit Graft originally gave her since replaced by garb given by Aurora, including white cloth and light armor, she looked every inch a fledgling cleric. Of course, her flexible purple-black horns, wings, and tail might sour that impression in the eyes of some. As the days went by, the listless emptiness on her face and the dull misery in her eyes had been replaced by interest, inquisitiveness, and even eagerness. She remained soft-spoken and generally low-energy, but she gave of an air of real engagement that made her boss proud. “Yes, sir. Actually, I have a question for you.”

“Well then, ask away. Do you mind if I operate while you do?”

“Not at all.” With her blessing, Graft resumed his work on the specimen. She kept silent for a few moments, trying to find the words to express the matter her curiosity fixed her upon, and holding tight the holy book from Kath's library. “Well...I wanted to ask you about your faith. Since I'm trying to become a paladin, and all.”

“Hmm,” the Director remarked, using a tiny grabber to test the strength of the connection from before. It would need more reinforcement. “Go on.”

“The root of all faith is strong belief, as I understand it. In our old world, the gods people worshiped were beings whose presence was clear as day. They gave signs, granted miracles, and even appeared sometimes. But apparently, some people worshiped gods who did not do such things. They worked in mysterious ways, so subtle that it was hard to tell if they were doing anything at all.”

“That sounds about right,” Graft prompted her to continue.

“So I wanted to ask, which type is yours? How does...your god manifest?”

Graft narrowed his eyebrows, confused. “...My what?”

Tabula scratched her head with one of the claws on her right wing. “Er...a while ago, you told me that you worshipped a powerful god called Profit. You seemed very...enthusiastic.”

“Oh!” the Director laughed. “Of course. Well, profit has signs, and it grants miracles, and it can definitely appear before you, or in special places. Some might think its workings mysterious, but it really is a concrete and logical matter. So, the first, I suppose.” He snipped a tendon and stretched it around an actuator.

For a moment Tabula stared at the project, thinking hard. “So, your belief is not that it exists, but that it is righteous. The one true path to the good life. Or...is it eternal life?”

Her musing got cut off. “That's exactly right! Nothing is more righteous than profit!”

Tabula crossed his arms. “So, why aren't you a Bishop or something too? If you're such a strong believer, you should be able to do all sorts of incredible things.”

Graft sputtered, missed a connection, and scratched a circuit. “Drat! Hmm?” Drawing back from his operation, he considered what Tabula said for a moment. “Well...profit doesn't work that way. It's not really a god, see. It's a set of principles. Take in more than you spend, invest intelligently, accumulate wealth and power. It's a way of life. Much better than some capricious deity in my books!”

Putting her free hand on her hip, Tabula asked, “That sounds pretty easy to believe in. If...you don't mind me asking, sir, what does believing in profit actually do for you, or those around you?”

Graft clenched his fist, then raised it upward like a grasping claw. “Simple! It allows me to keep advancing, keep reaching, keep striving for bigger, better, more, more, more! And it gives me power over others, to compel them, to make their lives better or worse as I choose!”

When he calmed down, he found Tabula looking deflated. He patiently waited for her to speak, highly interested in whatever came next. “I understand why you're not a cleric,” she said after a few moments.

Her boss laughed a metallic laugh, smiling widely. “So you do. I must say, you're speaking and evidently reading just about flawlessly. Your Intelligence must have developed a great deal.”

Tabula blushed. “Thank you, sir.”

He continued. “And I hear that you're sparing all of the opponents you're being given to grind experience with, correct?” She nodded. “Any reason why?”

The nightgaunt thought for a moment, her horns and tentacles wiggling rhythmically, then replied, “Out of all the gods I read about in Lady Kath and Lady Aurora's books, I've chosen to believe in the Forerunner. The god who's seen and lived every lifetime in existence, and who embodies love, compassion, and understanding even in hardship and suffering. He says that everyone deserves mercy.”

Graft ruminated on that, and twiddled his claws as he did. “I see. Can't say I agree, but I see nonetheless. Your Faith is also growing well, and I can see that your Strength has not suffered for it.” He spent a moment feeling her muscles with his talons, causing her to giggle. “I am most impressed.”

“I am so happy to hear it!” Tabula sang in elation, overjoyed to have pleased her boss. A hopeful look came over her, and she hugged her book tight. “If that's the case, I was wondering if I could ask for something.” After a nod from the Director, she made her desires plain. “I was wondering...if I could go outside again sometime soon. On a break, or something. I've been training in here for a long time. I know that you really, really like to work, but...I might not be the same way.”

Graft considered it. “Hmm...I don't know....” He didn't think of himself as a workaholic, but her words did ring true. Compared to just about anyone, he pursued his job with a tireless fervor, to the point of neglecting his basic needs. As much as he wanted quick results out of this project, he reasoned that the results would suffer if he applied too much pressure. While he did not intend to be any less protective of Tabula, he supposed he could allow her some time to relax. “Ah, very well then. But see that you return to your duties all the more spirited afterward.”

Tabula didn't run off cheering, but the Director could see her happiness writ upon her features. She left him soon after to return to her room, and he continued with his operation. “Truly remarkable,” he murmured. “It's about time a certain someone else started pumping some numbers up, too. And after that...” He chuckled. “Who knows?”

Act II


Graft approached the Final Chapter with one aide on either side flanking him. He walked upon his cane with pep in his step, looking as impeccable as he was dressed. To his left walked Tabula, dressed in the elegant white cloth and silver armor of a war priestess, with her long black hair braided behind her and her wings hanging low like a cloak, their hands clasped about her waist. On Graft's right walked Papillary, who didn't look quite right. There was a certain slackness to the way she moved, reminiscent of exhaustion. She also seemed...not just taller, but larger overall. She was practically stuffed into her characteristic physician's garb.

Graft paused in front of the skeleton butlers before the throne room door. “Why, that's just the ticket,” he exclaimed, taking a drink from one of their trays. After downing it, he smacked his lips in relish. “Mmm, mmm! Just can't get quality sustenance in the Factory. A shame you lot don't have the...stomach...for it, hohoho.”

He pressed on. Papillary, not-so-subtly irritated by her boss's implication, took two drinks and splashed them against her head, where they could absorb straight into her bloodstream. “Whoa,” she gasped, reeling, before falling on Tabula. The nightgaunt struggled to hold her up, but managed to steady Papillary until her healing kicked in a moment later and the secretary could follow after Graft. Tabula herself, however, remained behind to stare at one of the fuzzy, plump creatures dozing off in a butler's arms.

Her eyes were shining. “What is that?” she asked.

“A rabbit.” Papillary had turned back and fixed her blue-vein eyes on the animal. “I thought you read Lady Kath's biology texts?”

Tabula leaned closer to the rabbit. “It makes me feel strange. Like I want to touch it. Squeeze it. Hold it close.” The butler complied, holding out the pudgy beast for the demon cleric to take. Gingerly she scooped up the beast, and after a moment without it struggling at all she hugged it against her chest. “Oh! I love it! It is wonderful.”

Papillary snickered. “The more you love it, the harder you should squeeze, you know.”

Without thinking Tabula squeezed harder, causing the rabbit to squeak and contort in pain. Her eyes went wide. “Oh, no!” Frantic, she waved her hand over it, muttering a panicked prayer. For a moment it seemed like nothing would happen, but then a green light wove between her fingertips, and the rabbit was restored. It stopped struggling, and after petting it Tabula glanced at Papillary with accusing eyes. “How could you?”

The living organ shrugged, giggling. “It's just some dirty rodent, silly. No need to get worked up. C'mon, we'll be late.” She turned to run after Graft, and Tabula followed, the rabbit still in her arms.




The initial briefing concluded, every handcrafted chess piece given its role on the great board for the game that would be played, and Graft leaned back in his chair. With an aide to either side and his cane across his lap, he considered the task he'd been handed and found it unsatisfactory. Now that Rodias had ceded the floor to any questioners, he felt it only natural to speak first and air out his concerns, as well as to offer his own suggestion.

“My assignment sounds very passive. Given Salem's involvement, Intravis Type S will be used, so I'll have almost nothing to do. I do, however, have a proposal that I can only hope you find worthwhile. You plan to gain the locals' favor by dealing with the cultists, as it stands. A good idea, since they are a threat to such low-level humans, but what about the long term? Once the lurkers in the shadows are gone and that threat is listed, their lives will continue as normal. Things will be better with that incompetent lord out of the way, but if you really want the smallfolk in your pocket, there's an easy and effective way.”

He rubbed his claws together, creating a steely whining sound. “Their wallets. Perhaps once this younger relative takes over, he brings in friend of his, a member of the 'Welfare Commission' or some such. This friend overhauls the town's industry, providing a host of jobs with salary and benefits of the likes these poor souls have never seen, and offering special goods. Nothing too costly for us, but a whole new world for mere villagers. For decent pay, good food, and discounts on remarkable wares, they'll be climbing over one another to work the land and mines to supply the Chateau.”

Graft grinned. Evidently, he'd given the whole matter some thought. Either he'd been keeping eyes and ears out on his own, or he was just that intuitive. He stroked one end of his mustache. “Of course, this 'friend' would not be me, as I'd be far too busy, but I know just the person for the job.”
Hidden 5 yrs ago 5 yrs ago Post by Xaltwind
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Xaltwind Disgruntled Dragonfly

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((Collab with @The Irish Tree, @Lugubrious))


Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by DracoLunaris
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DracoLunaris Multiverse tourist

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Act I


Kladora was rather agitated by the tossing and turning of Zouyu in her lap as attempts to sooth his sleeping form proved futile. Kaldora was in the midst of a hushed decision of whether or not it was a good idea to try and wake someone up while they were having a nightmare with the herbalists when Zouyu suddenly awoke. Almost as soon as he did so he began to apologize for going overboard during the hunt, having seemingly grasped the cause of his unconsciousness on his own.

“It wasn’t your fault. We had no way of knowing this would happen after all. I’m just happy to know you are alright" Kaldora assured him, her tone kind and not at all put off by his animistic mannerisms. Quite the opposite in fact. She found them rather adorable and was as a result unable to resist the temptation to pet him a few times as he rubbed his face against her thighs.

Once that was all out of the way and Zouyu was given a clean bill of heath after a once over by the herbalist and dark priest the expedition set off for home once more, heard of Gorgonbulls in tow. Once they returned Zouyu bid Kaldora farewell with a hug, which she returned earnestly, before he set off to deal with business elsewhere

“What a lovely young man" Kaldora commented once he was out of sight, before turning back to her people. They still had plenty of work to do today after all.




Act II


In the time between the inaugural hunt and the second meeting the beast pens were abuzz with activity as the vampires did their best to settle into a new routine. The influx of Gorgonbull meat and access to the surrounding vegetation staved off the starvation that had threatened the pens on the first day, but the beasts’ ravenous appetites were far from satisfied. Subsequent lesser hunts had also revealed that simply relying on wild Gorgonbull population for meat would not be sustainable in the long run. It was while this eventual crisis was being debated that Kaldora was res-summoned to the throne room alongside the rest of the Chateau’s list of most powerful denizens. Once they were assembled Rodias laid out a rather elaborate plan to take over the small town located at the bottom of the mountain. A plan she had basically nothing to do with, which suited her just fine. The ongoing issue of finding food for the pens took president over a bunch of elaborate political intrigue in Kaldroa’s opinion, even if she couldn't wait to hear about how it all went down. That said, she could definitely see the usefulness of the end result of it all. Having a lovely little town as part of the Chateau’s domain could be quite the boon in her opinion.

“It would certainly be useful to have some intelligent help around.” Kaldora commented in response to Graft’s suggestion about employing the citizens of the nearby town “Our various low level undead minions can only do so much after all. You would not believe the trouble we’ve had down in the pens trying to get the thralls to act as shepherds without constant supervision!” the herbivorous creatures of the pens needed to be grazed (now that they couldn't simply import feed for them) and so too did the herd of Gorgonbulls they’d captured to feed the carnivores. Keeping them (and all the thralls managing them) in check was proving to be a rather time consuming task and it was not at all one that the vampires relished performing. Long boring hours out in the dangerous sunlight where none of their idea of a good time.

In response to her own instructions, which were to range out on a hunt with the lovely Zouyu by her side once more, she at first asked “Is there something in particular in the area that is of interest to you my lord? Or anyone else for that matter?” before Rodias’ final comment about overexertion reminded her of some information she had been meaning to disseminate among those gathered there.

Once the questioning and sugestions from the had quietened down a touch Kaldora retrieved her Wand of Commentary from her coat (which looked exactly like a fuzzy hand held microphone) and then proceeded to hop up onto the central table for a suitably dramatic vantage point to make an announcement.

“Ladies and Gentlemen. If I could have your attention for just a few moments before you head out!" Kaldora said, her tone crisp, clear and amplified by her wand .

“Now some of you may have heard about what I am about to say already" and certainly the vampires of the beast pens had been gossiping about what Kaldora was about to talk about to anyone who would lend them an ear “But for those that haven't I feel that it is vital to inform you that that we have discovered a rather dramatic difference in the way magic works in this world when compared to YGGDRASIL. The good news is that you can now use more Mana than you could previously, effectively going into negative mana values to keep fueling spells after you exhaust all of what would have been your limit back home. The bad news is that if you do so you’ll suffer from something we’ve started calling “Mana Burn” and it could be a threat to your very lives!"

Kaldora paused for a moment to let her proclamation sink in and draw in her audience before explaining “Now I hear you ask, what is Mana Burn? Well to put it succinctly, if you use too much Mana you will begin to suffer debilitating effects a short while after you use it. These start from light headaches and spiral downwards to being knocked unconscious. After unconsciousness things start to get really bad my darlings. Anyone knocked out by this effect will suffer horrifying nightmares that seem to drag on exponentially longer and more dreadful the more Mana you burn, while the amount of time you spend knocked out is simply linear. One of our brave volunteers claims to have spent what felt like a week in a realm of horrors despite only being knocked out for a few minutes.“

Despite the dire portent of her news for the most part Kaldora’s voice had been bright and cheerful. The woman was clearly enjoying the act of delivering the news to others even if it's contents being rather concerning. However even she could not maintain a merry disposition while saying what she said next “This state also harms the person’s vitals or life force in some way. How bad that can get we are unsure, as even with the death warding we have down in the training arena we didn't want to push anyone to the brink because of the physiological toll such an experience would inflict. Despite this I am quite certain that over use of Mana can and will kill you if you push yourself too hard.“

Kaldora removed her hand from where it had been pressed against her heart while warning the others about their potential demise and then returned to a slightly more upbeat tone “Now. I am aware that some of you might be weighing the risks here. It’s a tempting thing, particularly in a dramatic high stakes situation, to risk these effects In-order to win the day and I am, naturally, in no position to command you not to do so. Therefore I instead highly recommend that if you do intend to over use Mana that you ensure that you A. have a healer on hand to help you survive the after effects and B. that you dang well finish the fight you are in because you're going to be taken out of it shortly after exerting yourself to that extreme. Keep these things in mind, steel yourself against some absolutely dreadful night terrors and don’t go so deep into the red that you can never come back up again and you will probably be fine,“ she assured them.

“That's all I have for you for now my lovely audience. If you have any questions or any additional information about this phenomenon I’ll be more than happy to lend you an ear in just a moment. For now however I’ll let you all get back to your regularly scheduled content. Thank you all so much for listening. Ta-ta!“ Kaldora finally finished her speech with a bow before hopping down from the table and rejoining the assembled denizens of the Chateau with a wide grin etched upon her lips.
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Stern Algorithm
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Stern Algorithm Loquacious Aggression

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Salem Vicarious, Lord of Lost Things
Act I

After being ejected from COIN, Salem waited for production to complete for the first generation of Intravis and Agravis, before controlling the vermin to stream down the mountain to infiltrate Amberden. Since, Salem had adopted a passive role, watching and learning, while providing anyone who wished with information on the local population, in particular, Graft who might have wanted to fine tune the design of the spying rodent constructs, or Kath who might simply have wanted to sate her curiosity. Out of boredom and a tendency to mimic and mock life, Salem began to restructure a part of the City of Lost Things into a scale replica of Amberden using thrown together parts, complete with denizens assigned the task of acting out the daily lives of the populace. Of course, Salem's replica looked like a dilapidated, Tim Burton-esque shantytown version of the actual Amberden, but it sufficed as far as house placements were concerned. But The City of Lost Things was not a popular destination for Salem's peers, and staying inside only to report on the things the Intravis saw gave Salem an overwhelming sense of cabin fever. Yet the doll didn't want to act up too much. Salem had already caught the ire of Graft, and had a sense that all was not well in the Chateau.

Act II

Salem arrived fairly early to claim Dr.Drd's empty seat, reclining in it in a slovenly and irreverent manner. Salem listened, feigning indifference, until Rodias detailed Salem's role in the coming plot. Salem jumped at the opportunity to stretch their proverbial legs and leave the confines of the Chateau, but saw a flaw in the plan. "As much as I love the plan so far, I see a problem with the surrogate. You said that the dukes colleagues would notice if his behaviors suddenly changed. But if we were to replace him with a surrogate, who presumably takes the place of a younger relative of his, I think it's fair to ask, 'wouldn't the duke also notice if his younger relative's behaviors suddenly changed?' On the other hand, if we created a persona from scratch, then how would we convince the duke that said persona was their relative? At this point, mightn't it be simpler if someone studied the duke closely enough to mimic him, and skip the surrogate step altogether? Director Graft's exquisitely crafted Intravis have been most useful in this regard. I have even created a replica of Amberden within the City of Lost Things, for those who wish to familiarize themselves with the town without having to actually go there. It will only be a matter of time before I manage to have the Intravis infiltrate the duke's manner, after which, I can surveil the duke until I can play his part flawlessly. I can even dispose of him when the time comes."

Salem flashed a sadistic grin as a switchblade hidden in the doll's forearm slashed open before retracting. "Of course, I'm not trying to take away Lady Mamoru's role in this endeavor. It will be reassuring to have another member of the Chateau nearby. I've watched the lives of these people and they are dreadfully dull. I'd go insane if I didn't have someone that I could take a break with and be myself around." Salem smiled, this time more pleasantly, at the dragon maid.
Hidden 5 yrs ago 5 yrs ago Post by BurningDaisies
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BurningDaisies The Hardcore Flower

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Lord Chompy Bits



Lotti awoke to the light of the moon pouring in through the tree tops. She felt the cold, wet earth clinging to her face as she rose, and slowly regained her senses. Black, gnarled limbs arched overhead, grappling viciously as if each tree sought to wrench its adversary from their roots. Even the smaller trees, growing beneath these giants, squelched the light. Weak rays of moonlight penetrated the gloom in a few places and faded midway to the ground, snuffed by cruel shrubs dressed in gray leaves and thorny vines. As she looked around her heart sank lower and lower. A seeping cold crawled through the air and stole her breath. The pale glow of incandescent lamps stretched into the gloomy night, marking the path through the misty forest.

The last thing she remembered, she was petting a wild cat in the woods with her brother. She brushed the dirt from her face and skirts as she rose to her feet. "Where is Rollo?" she worried. Her eyes darted around in a panic. "Rollo!" she called out. Nothing. She called again, but this time her voice didn't carry far. Something muffled her cries.

A small, white cat sauntered out from the bushes. It spared one look at Lotti and promptly began grooming itself.

Lotti recognized it as the same cat from the forest. She walked over and bent down beside it. "Aww, did you get lost in here too?" She reached out to pet it, and the cat nuzzled its head against her hand.

The cat meowed encouragingly and walked away at a brisk pace, following a trail that lead away from the lamp-lit road and deeper into the mist. Lotti followed behind awkwardly. "Wait, don't go!" Lotti spare one last look at the beaten path before following the cat into the mist.




The Tyrant of Nightmares sat quietly on a tree branch as the dark spawn of the Kingsmouth forest prepared for the coming ritual. Gangling creatures they were. A mottled cross of goat and man, they had long, spindly limbs, gnarled hands, and sharp claws that dripped with filth. There strange emotionless eyes gleamed with sinister intelligence. The twisted limbs and black, mossy trunks surrounded a clearing, and bore an unnatural resemblance to a gabled temple. A menacing darkness acts as a curtain to the outside.

In the center of the nearby clearing, there was an wide circular slab fashioned from petrified wood. Strange letters and lurid scenes of perversion and violence had intricately carved into its base. Subtle grooves criss-crossed the pale, dark wood of its dias, forming mind-bending geometries. Warm blood and fresh gore coursed through grooves and seemed to absorb the moonlight. Bits of flesh and bloody ichor coated the chains and littered ground. They were the remains of a young boy who wandered too far from the road.

The beating of drums and sinister chanting filled the air, primal and raw in rhythms like a beating heart. Loud sobbing and pleas for mercy drew closer and closer. At last, one of the dark spawn dragged in a weeping girl, Lotti. Thick vines bound her hands and waist, and numerous tears had cut through the grime on her face. She wailed and retched upon entering the room, the stench alone was foul. Her voice sounded hoarse and hollow as she pleaded.

A dark spawn stood before the dias. Deep crimson robes draped across his wiry frame, and talismans dangle from his horns. White paint coated his face giving the appearance of a clean skull. These were the trappings of a high priest. He and the other dark spawn stretched the girl across the dias and bound her in chains. Lotti resisted at first, but her strength couldn't compare and she was easily overwhelmed. Another dark spawn stepped forward with a grisly pail and gingerly pour fresh blood over Lotti, covering her from head to toe.

A blood-speckled tail flicked in time with the beat, and merciless feline eyes watched silently as the girl sobbed and wailed.

At the height of the chanting, the high priest thrust his hand into the earth, and pulled our two black seeds that wriggled and writhed with dark tendrils and dripped with filth. He stood by Lotti's chained feet and looked long into the girl's eyes, drinking in her terrified expression as his gnarled hand and the throbbing alien seeds reached ever closer.




Having gotten bored of watching the dark spawn's rituals, Lord Chompy Bits left the Dreamlands to go for a walk. In a rather typical fashion, he had no destination and merely went wherever his feet carried him. The bone butlers were careful not to obstruct his path, as he meandered through the corridors with lithe grace.

After hunting a stray moth for a few minutes, he caught a familiar scent wafting through the air. Correction, several familiar scents and they all led in one direction. "Oh yes... I remember now. There was some trifle about a meeting." He plucked the moth from the air with his teeth and promptly tore off one of its wings. As he watched it struggle helplessly for the last few minutes of its miserable life, he mused upon making the attendance. Ultimately, his curiosity won out. He stepped into the corner where the floor met the wall and arrived in the Sable Lord's throne room.

The Hungering Darkness, The Great Defiler, Tyrant of Nightmares, High Lord of the Dreamlands, Minister of Fluff listened quietly, his tail flicking back and forth with interest. Rather than kidnapping a few natives to placate his monstrous subordinates, the Sable Lord's plans seemed like an excellent opportunity to see how much amusement this new world could offer him.

His attention waxed and waned as the meeting drew on, but so far the fun assignments had been dealt to Mamoru, Ashara, and Gromgard. He interpreted the lack of direct orders for him to mean that he was free to do as he pleased, and weighed his options. "Choices. Choices."

After a moment of consideration, he leaped onto the Lord's table and announced his decision. "Ashara, Gromgard, you'll be pleased to know that I've decided to join you. Mamoru or Vicarious can play house for some sniveling worm in human skin, and Kath can eavesdrop on everyone's dirty little secrets. None of that interests me. I prefer a task that I can sink my claws into. Doubtless my talents would be a welcome addition to your little troupe. No need to thank me, however. I find myself in a charitable mood." His tail swished with satisfaction.
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Kath liked this plan. She felt like it would satisfy those of the chateau who were more focused on conquest and domination, while still keeping their intended takeover relatively bloodless. She wasn't a pacifist, her initial anger towards Chuunitrixx days before and her threats of violence were completely genuine in that moment, but if violence could be avoided and both parties could walk away satisfied, it seemed the right goal to pursue. Using spycraft and deception was quite underhanded, but compared to massacring the city's leaders and enslaving the populace, she was happy to participate in her selected role of Lord Rodias' plan.

Also, his crafted figure of her looked quite adorable. Perhaps she would ask him to create another one for her to keep as a souvenir in her library someday. Though that also sounded quite embarrassing to ask. Perhaps if Rodias ever chose to get rid of it, she could save it from being thrown in the trash.

In any case... "Your will shall be done, Lord Rodias. I shall be sure that none discover my identity or my strength. And any new information I may discover shall arrive to you as expediently possible." Perhaps the city had a library she could use to research the country's history and culture. Such data would certainly help those like Mamoru who were attempting to blend in among the other citizens of the city.
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Act 1


Collab between myself and @Rockin Strings

Light watched as the cultist she tried to hypnotize with the jiggling flan had an incredibly horrible reaction to the dessert and after only giving a little bit of info, the cultists convulsed and started to turn into some eldrich monster. Looking at Gromgard, Light said. "Whats going on? I swear this hasn't happened to me before. Guy didn't even go through the stages of insanity!" commenting on the situation as she casually leaned back to dodge a rake aimed at her before moving up to grab the thing and hold it in a bear hug. Her frame didn't really show just how strong she was, and the creature had difficulty escaping her grasp as she turned it towards Gromgard. "So, wanna do something with our friend here?" She said.

Gromgard watched as Light attempted hypnosis with the jiggly dessert. He wasn't sure if it would work or not but figured to at least let her try. What harm could there be?

Apparently a lot. The cultist turned into a monster. He looked at Light, only to hear her say this hadn't happened before. "They don't normally turn into terrible monsters?" he asked, watching as Light grappled the strange entity that had once been a cultist.

Gromgard drew his blade in one hand as he readied a fireball in the other. "Are you fireproof?" he asked before launching the spell at the monster, only to follow up with a wide swing of his sword, aiming to cut it in half. "Get out of here. Go warn the others. I can handle this easily with my goblins." Grabbing his sword with both hands, he aimed an upwards slash that would, hopefully, cut the monster in half.

"Nah, they tend to... Wait fire what?" Light said not paying all that much attention as she was having fun hugging her new squirming flesh of a teddy bear. Gromgard, not wasting any time, chucked a fireball into the creature in Light's arms, burning both it and the arms Light was using to hold it. "Ow, hot ho..." Light started to say, waving one of her arms to try to cool it down before Gromgard cleaved both the monster in two, and chopped off the arm Light didn't wave to cool off all in one stroke.

Light looked at the stump of her arm that the strike had resulted in, waving it a bit before looking for her dismembered forearm. Light didn't bleed, instead wisps of some kind of, darker than dark, blacker than black energy came from the stump, slowly absorbing any light it touched. Meanwhile her chopped off forearm, a bit burnt, still had a lot of energy and almost a mind of its own, and was scampering around the room like a zombie arm. Noticing this Light said "Get back here you!", chasing around her own arm which had crawled up the body of the still alive cultist and sat on his head, almost hissing, well, if an arm could hiss as Light grabbed it and reattached it. A few moments later the burn marks on her arms also disappeared as she began to pick up and store parts of the creature that she could, using her sharp legs to stab a few that were still squirming.

"Ok Gromgard! Let me just finish collecting evidence. Who knew a bit of jiggling Flan would cause such a reaction huh?" Light said cheerfully, as if not bothered by Gromgard burning her and dismembering one of her arms not a few moments ago.

Gromgard smirked as the cleave connected. He frowned upon turning around to see Light's arm on the floor. He expected her to start freaking out. However, when her arm began moving on its own, he took a step back, ready to fling it at her if it came towards him. It chose to climb up into a cultist. After she reattached the severed limb, she started collecting what she called evidence.

"My apologies for cutting off your arm." he sighed, moving to begin grabbing monster pieces as well. "That was not my intention."

With a relaxed sigh, he tossed the monster pieces into a cauldron. "Who should we take these pieces to for analyzation?" he asked, turning to face Light and the remaining cultists again. "And what should we do with these two?

Finishing stuffing one of the creature's tentacles into her dress, Light said. "Don't worry about it. I'm super durable!" in a chippy tone. She thought a bit about what Gromgard had asked, saying. "Well, I was going to give some to Graft, some to Flan, and some to the boss man, boss man first. I think he should know about what happened first."

She then gave Gromgard a wave, walking out of the room. A few moments later she popped her head into the room saying. "I had my fun, you do what you wanna do with the still alive cultist." before heading out and off to Rodias's chambers to report what had happened and everything she learned.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Act 2


Light listened as everyone else seemed to get all the fun jobs, but she understood. She wasn't the most subtle thing, and apparently Rodius didn't want a bunch of babbling insane people worshipping him so it all made sense she figured. "Right-o boss! Just don't suck my blood or anything, I don't have any and that wont end well for ya." Light said with a teasing smile. she waited for everyone to say their questions, listening in.

She wasn't too happy about talk about melting down the stuff in the Vault. While Light didn't know what it did, it was there for a reason and just melting it down seemed silly. Rodius agreed, which put Light at ease, and he even explained what some of the stuff down there did! "Ha, Glad I can regenerate." Light said casually at the whole resurrection thing. Kaldora's little speech about 'mana burn' didn't really bother Light much either, as she didn't even use the stuff. "Sounds like what I do to people. Wonder if that could be connected somehow?" Light said, again, casually bit with a bit of insight included.

Light noticed a few new faces here, new chapter lords and head servants that had awoken? New friends! This distracted her for a moment before she remembered with Rodius talking to one of the new people about the 'thing' she and Gromgard had killed. "I tried eating a bit of it. It tasted like salty nightmares, delicious!" Light said, giving her insight about the creature.
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I have each team's assignment's starting point ready to be posted, but I wanted to give each individual "team" plenty of time to interact with one another. If any wish to have me go ahead and add in the assignment's starts, then please let me know. The ones posted below are the ones not assigned to any team with another player. Since, y'know, it'd be messed up if I made them wait to interact with nobody but the empty air.


@Archmage MC


@DracoLunaris


@Lugubrious
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Act II


@The Irish Tree@Xaltwind@BurningDaisies

After dealing with the last cultist and cleaning his torture room, Gromgard had a little time to relax. He made a quick stop by the kitchen to visit Flan to ask for a small feast for his goblins before leaving for his own quarters. Upon arriving there, he looked at the large bed and sighed. He was feeling lonely.

Just as the goblins' feast was ending, Gromgard was called to another meeting. He attended with little enthusiasm. Rodias was talking about a big plan.

”Next, Gromgard, Ashara.” Rodias would say, moving their dolls to the southeast, near the heavily forested areas that Bone Daddy had guarded, and that Gromgard had previously chased his artist underlings to. ”If we’re going to establish ourselves as being benefactors of the people, then we need to ensure their safety. I’m sure the locals are already up in arms about the cultist’s continued attacks. As such, I’d like you two to find and root out their base of operations. It has to be somewhere near here, judging from the information we squeezed out of our ‘guests’. There’s also a good opportunity for you, Gromgard, to try and find out if there are any goblins native to this world residing there.”


While not happy to be returning to the same spot, He was intrigued by the thought of hoarding more for his horde.

After a moment of consideration, he leaped onto the Lord's table and announced his decision. "Ashara, Gromgard, you'll be pleased to know that I've decided to join you. Mamoru or Vicarious can play house for some sniveling worm in human skin, and Kath can eavesdrop on everyone's dirty little secrets. None of that interests me. I prefer a task that I can sink my claws into. Doubtless my talents would be a welcome addition to your little troupe. No need to thank me, however. I find myself in a charitable mood." His tail swished with satisfaction.


Gromgard saw the cat and, with a smirk and a voice dripping with sarcasm, walked up to him. "Does the kitty want a treat? Is that why he's trying to act like a big boy? Does he need a scratch behind the ears?"
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This time on his visit to the Factory Rodias encountered not even the teeniest sliver of resistance from its security. Though not intelligent the Guards and the wall-nodules could evidently recognize him on sight, and since the last Sable Lord knew the way Graft insisted that he not stand on ceremony and let himself be taken on a slow escort by his lackies. Their meeting commenced in one of the many machine rooms, where Graft was currently in the middle of overseeing his mooks overhauling the production line. The fact that its new product involved amberlyte said a good deal about Graft's findings already.

As was his custom, the Director opened his mouth to begin speaking straightaway, but the Supreme One's silver tongue got the better of him. He opened first, and with an apology no less, which left Graft looking mildly put out for two different reasons. “You have no cause to apologize to the likes of me,” he told him. “Rather, I am pleased that you shared with me this wisdom. Resurrection via wealth is a fascinating concept, and I daresay none live who're better suited than I to look into it.”

A Specialist was standing by, too wise to interrupt a conference between two such powerful beings. Given the informality of the meeting, however, and a couple other factors, Graft went ahead and relayed a few instructions before getting back to the matter at hand. Rodias wanted to know more about what he had in mind for the human settlement landed so close to the Chateau by the winds of fate.

“It's quite simple,” he said, planting his cane before him and placing both hands atop it. “In order to benefit from this world's resources, we need to invest in their acquisition. To do that we can either waste our own manpower and effort on such grunt work, or we can get this world's people to do it for us. They, like most organisms, respond to incentives. Some might suggest using the stick as an incentive. Coercing others with force can work, but people with crushed spirits are lifeless, ineffective, and prone to revolt. The human spirit can be caged, but only for so long before it chooses death -even in futile rebellion- over further suffering. So I suggest the carrot. We are fabulously wealthy by this world's standards, but not in a practical sense. So we'll use what resources we have to barter and trade, and to pay wages, ensuring that any humans who work for us won't just be willing to: they'll want to.”

Graft kicked up his cane with a shoe and flipped it over his shoulders, where he could grasp one end with each hand. “Alas, I have kept my word and done no snooping, so I don't know the full extent of the Chateau's assets. But once we come up with whatever we can stand to bargain away, I can establish the Mercantile Commission in the nearest city. No infiltration, no minions pretending and learning to be human; I'll hire men and women of sense and wit, then direct them from the shadows. They'll be the ones to sell our wares, move our goods, and amass our coin.” He spread his arms wide in exultation, excited, and his voice rose. “The Commission will swell, with a branch in every city, trade routes connecting them all! Bandersnatch will be rich, and its influence vast as it is subtle! Waystations across the country, a finger in every pie. Forget about armies, and swords and magic.” A gold piece appeared in his hand. Holding it between his index finger and thumb, he held it up to the light to watch it shine. “We can rule the world with coin!”

A moment passed before the Director chuckled. He put the gold piece away. “Neh heh heh. Forgive me; I must have gotten carried away. And you haven't even yet publicly announced your true ambitions, either. Still, one can never aim too high, eh?” Another chuckle escaped him before he switched gears. “As for amberlyte, I am pleased enough. It's pretty in a bauble sort of way, a low-tier commodity. Not suitable for defense or construction. It has a few quirks, however. I tested its affinity for magic, since as you know crystals are often good foci for sorcery. However, amberlyte is the exact opposite. It is magic-abhorrent.” He grabbed a refined chunk from the nearby conveyer belt. “Not repellent, mind you, but abhorrent. It's also mildly toxic, with a more pronounced effect on subjects with a higher magical affinity. A sort of drain.”

Graft's lenses snapped into place as he studied the amberlyte. “Reminded me of Kaldorna's report on mana fatigue. At the moment, I'm also researching rare, high-tier status effects. I could feel some sort of connection. So I poked around. If highly processed into a fine powder akin to sand, amberlyte induces an interesting status effect in magical subjects, both organic and inorganic. Their tissues become 'looser', unable to hold mana, which begins to drain away from the host. According to reports on rare bosses and zones in Yggdrasil, this is called 'Leak'. It's very difficult to combat, cited by Supreme Ones as one of their most-hated aspects of certain areas. In this new world, it should not only deprive targets of their mana to fight with, but also eventually induce crippling mana fatigue. Fascinating, no?”

With a shrug he tossed the amberlyte to a nearby specialist, who took it away. “Sadly, it's not very potent in its current state, and application is a problem. I am no alchemist, and can only achieve so much in terms of optimizing this stuff. I do know a certain top-heavy recluse who might, however, as well as someone who could nudge her into doing so.” He winked at Rodias. “If she can further refine it, with some sort of reagent perhaps, into an oil, it could be very useful indeed.”
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Hidden 5 yrs ago 5 yrs ago Post by Lucius Cypher
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It was time to get to work. As discussed with Ashara, Mamoru made sure to leave a fully buffed, mostly responsible Mamoru clone at the Chateau to take care of matters of upkeep. As for Mamoru herself, she needed to gather her things for her mission. As she was to go undercover, she needed to not only change her outfit, but her appearance and arsenal as well. After all it wouldn't be normal for a young woman who supposedly comes from a common draconian village to have rare or powerful items. Fortunately for Mamoru, a vast majority of her combat power didn't rely on equipment. As long as she was still alive she could be a threat.

As for a disguise, she had a few skeleton butlers put together a basic maid outfit based off the information Mamoru received from her clones. It wasn't nearly as fine as anything the Chateau produces, and frankly she wouldn't wear such rags so much as use them to soak up scum water, but alas she needed to look the part of a peasant trying to find work at a lord's manor. Aside from that, Mamoru also had to be careful what other items she brings with her. While she can easily store all of her belongings in the dimensional inventory, she also thought to bring some physical items with her, just to show that she indeed came from a far away land to work here. This was harder to replicate due to the fact that she's never seen nor handled any "traditional" draconian items that she's suppose to hail from. She could easily gain this information if she absorbs the essence of her clone currently residing with the draconoids, but doing so might raise suspicion. For now, Mamoru decided to take basic traveling supplies: a backpack with some spare clothes, outfits, and traveling supplies. She kept her potions, poisons, and magic items in the dimensional inventory for now.

And lastly of course, Mamoru needed to look like a Draconian. While it's entirely possible for draconians to look human, be default they do not. Mamoru's current appearance was due to being the default form her creator set for her, but once more she had to shed her guise and take on her true form. It kind of ruined the maid outfit, but Mamoru would just have to chalk it up to her dragon form not being anything resembling normal human proportions. With all of her preparations complete, Mamoru would report that she was ready to leave, heading up towards the rooftops. "Ah, it's been so long since I've actually stretched my wings." Once her wings were fully extended, Mamoru leap off the building and began her flight towards the manor. She would move higher and swiftly, being no more than a mere spec in the sky. Without having to worry about any obstacles to waylay her path, Mamoru should make it to the mannor before noon.




After the meeting was adjourned, the skeleton butlers were dispersed to return to their duties maintaining the Chateau. Beasts needed to be fed, places cleaned, and there was still the mining and resource gathering being handled. Butterfly hadn't overseen much of these himself due to Mamoru order the workforce, however with her true self off on a mission and her clone handling manners only if an issue arrise, Butterfly took it upon himself to oversee his kin and put them to good use. As there were various chapter lords and leaders currently active around the Chateau and surrounding areas, Bone Daddy made sure to inform all skeletons outside of the Chateau to maintain a low profile and report to him immediately upon observing anyone who isn't Chateau aligned. Normally such complex orders were completely beyond the ability of a mindless undead, but thanks to Bone Daddy's ability to elevate the intelligence of undead, the ones he directly ordered could turn the complex order into a simple one.

With that finished, Bone Daddy needed to deal with these rabbits in his arms. He couldn't very well release them in the Bone Butler Quarters; there was simply no means for them to survive there, and if he was to kill them he would do so more efficiently than to starve them to death. Seeing that none of the others higher level lords and oversees cared to take the rabbits off Butterfly's hands, he decided that he will visit the monster pens. Either someone there will raise them, or they shall be eaten by the beasts. Either way it would clear up one mess for the mechanical skeleton. Naturally of course, he would need to wait for the master of the zone to be present so that he can get her permission to release the beasts here. Butterfly didn't want to get into trouble for leaving his pests around the Chateau.
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