Chapter 2: Self-Addressed
Time claims most of us
GM
It’s been about an hour since your group finished packing up the safe house. Sigmund explained that the inconspicuous farmhouse on the edge of Illivan had been compromised due to the woman who appeared from the painting. The horses slow as Sigmund’s wagon approaches the gatehouse.
“We’ve been granted exclusive use of the Garden House in the north-west district, at least until you finish your assignment.” Sigmund says with a thick Illivani accent. “The Boss has a personal interest in this one, you know? I’d wager he’s stuck us there to be closer to him. Don’t be surprised if he’s there the next time you pop out. Have you decided on a way to get around your memory lapse?”
Marcel
"I haven't quite figured out a way around it, I'm afraid." I say, looking down at my shoes. "I basically blink and I'm back here. I wonder if I can remember anything outside the painting whenever I am within it. That would explain why I am having such a difficult time achieving the objective. If I were to write myself a letter, explaining the situation, telling myself to write a letter back, maybe I can communicate to both versions of my memory."
GM
“Well if you make a note to yourself, make sure you put it somewhere you can find it. No use if you don’t read it,” Sigmund pulls the reigns tight. “We’re nearly there, up there on the corner.” He points to a square building about a hundred yards away. It’s pointed grey roof blends into the overcast sky while the surrounding “garden” lays dying due to lack of care.
“Get ready now. Orders are for you to get back in immediately. We’ll do the unpacking while you're in the Painting. I’d start writing your missives now if your gonna.”
Marcel
I begin to scrawl down a letter to myself, letting myself know what is going on and what I am doing in the maze.
I tuck the letter into my shirt so that when I walk, it crinkles in my shirt and walk towards the square out building
GM
With your papers placed securely in the inner breast pocket of the Starry, blue robe, you approach the painting of the empty red room. Sigmund’s assistants have mounted the portrait on the western wall of the attic opposite of a circular window. On a clearer day you could probably see Illivan Castle on the center ridge. It will be night soon, casting darkness upon the strangest day of your life. A quick look over yourself confirm that all of your tools and accessories are present. Sigmund leans into the stairwell door and chuckles, “See you soon.”
You are standing in a octagonal, crimson room. Black ornaments are mounted on the walls, in the center near where you stand hang long dark chains that end in empty manacles. The iron doors are partially open revealing the empty room of shadows beyond.
The last thing you remember was being struck dead by an amber spirit. Lady Capelli, the large, blue dragon-like woman had helped guide you past that time-frozen wedding, but the two of you had been ambushed by the spirits. You can’t hear her in the next room.
Marcel
I enter the next room, looking around, hoping to find the familiar sight of Lady Capelli. As I begin to move, I hear an unfamiliar rustling in my breast pocket. I begin to read the letter telling me about my objective within the maze that I had wrote to myself.
GM
You open an unfamiliar piece of paper sprawled with your own handwriting.
“To me inside;
Writing this down so that we don’t forget our reason for being here.
The Boss says that something BIG is coming and he needs allies if the guild is going to survive. He wants me to find two people in this painting and bring them back. He was able to scrounge up some magic relics to help. Two metal balls; The Boss called them Orbs of Returning. Wouldn’t show me how to use them, but confided that if I gave them to the right people, they would know what they are. Said they only work once, so don’t fuck it up. Then he gave me that look I hate, so I know he’s serious about all this.
He gave some names for his preferences on who to bring back:
“Psyteramona, first daughter of the great serpent” I didn’t know the Boss believed in children’s tales.
“A ‘torn’ sister. Any will do, Chronia is preferred.” Don’t know what that means but maybe you do.
“If the others fail, then find Fortuna, The Sphinx of Black Waters.” A bit less cryptic than the others. I was also given three magical items to aid me.
The Sunsword, recite the command word on the fuller to activate.
The Robe of Stars, the embroidered stars can be pulled off and thrown. There are only six and it will take a full month for them to grow back, I have also been warned to “Never remove the robe whilst in the maze unless you wish to perish forever”. Whatever that means. Finally, I was granted an immovable rod to use however I need. A second rod was requested but times are tough. There may be another waiting for me at some point if this takes longer than expected.” The place you’ve come to know as Crucem’s room is empty. The unseen sun still blazes, casting the same latticed shadow from the beams in the ceiling. You wait to see if Lady Capelli will emerge from her invisible shadowed path, but she does not. Maybe she hasn’t yet returned from fighting the golden ghosts. (There are 3 paths ahead, left; to the room where shadows become pits. Right: to the Escher stairs, and straight: to the talking serpent mosaic.) Marcel I look around, kind of dismayed at the usual fixture of Crucem not being around. Following the instructions written from myself and trying to remember where Chronia was at, I begin to walk straight towards the talking serpent mosaic GM As you approach the threshold to the mosaic floored room, you hear the sounds of a fight occurring inside. Peeking in you see the mosaic creature who sang to you and Tyko Wort before has stretched herself out of the floor and is eating a masked person with her flat teeth. Another of the masked victims is futility attacking the multicolored serpent with a small dagger with little effect. The short dagger clangs off of the hard skin. “I’ll get you out, Vetch!” Exclaims the knife wielding assailant. Though you doubt it, as the partially consumed victim is slowly turning two-dimensional. You believe these persons to be Elves. Their masks are each golden in the shape of long, raven-like, bird beaks. (Do you interrupt or wait?) Marcel I choose to wait, not really approaching, but waiting for my opportunity to speak as the serpent eats GM “Vetch!” The masked assailant exclaims as the man disappears fully into the flat maw. The serpent begins to sink back into the floor and sings. You didn’t listen to my rhyme And talked amongst yourselves like fools. You’ll pay attention more next time, Now risk your death to find my rules. The mosaic serpent reunites with the tiled floor, and you get the feeling that the rhyme was meant for you too. The remaining masked man picks himself up and charges for the only other exit. You watch as he throws himself of the rope suspension bridge just outside. Marcel I speak up. "Serpent! What is rhyme this time? I was not present to hear your wordplay. Give me a chance before you devour me alive." GM I shan’t repeat my rhyme to you You’ve heard it once before You’ll find it deep inside I’m sure, And don’t forget, I’m keeping score (Roll d20 to try to remember the rhyme) Marcel 1 I cannot remember shit and begin dancing across the room, guessing that this had something to do with the rhyme. GM You think to yourself about your prior encounter with the mosaic. Nothing about the rhyme itself comes to mind. You have a faint detail about crossing the room with Tyko Wort so you decide to follow your mother’s classic advice. When all else fails, try dancing. Advice that was obviously intended for courting and not situations of life and death. The animated serpent grins gleefully and horrendously as you plié and jive across the floor. You reach the rope bridges unharmed. (There are three paths; left: to the sword-stabbed man, right: to the stab-shell, straight: to the chess room.) Marcel I go straight across the bridges, remembering another one of my mother's sayings. When you are confused and lost, keeping walking straight. GM You enter the chess room where Gibba Gognata lies slain by your hand. The giant chess pieces in this room have all been moved to surround the body of the childsnake. Somehow, each of the chess pieces have been smeared with Gibba’s blood. You can hear them murmuring, “mmm, yes”. They ignore you as they bask in their visceral decadence. (Two exits on the opposite wall; left: the inky floor, right: unknown.) Marcel I try to make myself as unnoticeable as possible and go to the left GM You step into a dark room. The marble-like floor is black and viscous. You must move quickly across the floor to avoid sinking, however there are eight, jade eyes that skate across the surface. Each elliptical eye stares straight into the seemingly endless black void above. Furthermore, you feel that you are being watched. (One exit directly across the room. Roll 1d20 to cross the room, or to investigate) Marcel I attempt to cross the room GM The green glow from the eyes ripples on your path, but you’ve done this before and despite the black glaze clinging to your boots you are able to deftly cross the room. You arrive in the plain room with the unripe wine. You once meet a man here whose head resembled the moon who was looking for his son. You think of his “pets” and shudder. You still feel watched. You hear a somber melody being hummed nearby. (Two exits. Right: unknown; Left: the entrance to Chronia Torn’s chamber.) Marcel I sigh and head towards Chronia's chamber, knowing what fate probably awaits me GM Two other rooms empty into this hallway that leads into a corner of Chronia’s chamber. A few meters in the ceiling rises sharply to fifty-foot vaulted ceilings. The floor is turned into fine quartz sand. At the other end furthest from you lies Chronia draped over a dune, seemingly drunk and partially nude. Her silk robe is slowing breaking apart and rotting before your eyes revealing her pale, grey-toned skin. The massive space is decorated by objects and baubles built directly into the wall. Cushions and fabrics are piled in the corners. Skylights fill the room with a pink glow. As you come into view, Chronia’s pet beast emerges from an unlit sphere near her lounge. It’s not much smaller than you but compared to Chronia’s immense size it may as well be a lap-dog. This lap-dog, however, cackles like a hyena as it gazes over to your location. “Visitors. Visitors!”, it chimes. The tubular spikes on its back begin to leak a blueish-greenish drip. You notice now that it has no eyes, making its aggressively human maw seem too large for its head. The beast leaps into the sand and circles around Chronia’s ankle and biting her for attention. The beast breaks her skin and eagerly laps up all the blood that surfaces. Chronia begins to sit up as the beast begins to use its hands to slather its master with the dripping fluid from its back. Chronia seems soothed by this material, and she begins to take notice of you. “Oh, ‘visitors’ my pet?” Her eyelids look heavy but as she realizes who has approached her, she jerks to attention. “You! You’ve returned. How can thiss be?” Despite her slurred words, her voice is delicate and beautiful. Chronia stands fully, her feet kicking around sand. You could almost swear that she’s grown in size since you’ve entered. “And are THEY with you?” The emphasis she puts on the word puts you at unease. Marcel "They?" I asked as I look for the orbs of returning that I know I have on my person GM “Fracture.” she commands to her beast. He charges, making great bounds as it weaves though weathered statues nearly buried in white sand. It’s fast, too fast for you to run. Marcel (shit) GM Your body tries to pull you in two different directions causing you to fall backwards. The beast leaps over yours, taking out some creature that stood just behind you. Crimson blood flies into the air splattering onto the sand and some makes it onto your clothes. The screams of this creature echo inside the chamber making your skin crawl. Another creature near the first reveals itself, as if a curtain pulled was off of a mannequin. An invisibility illusion dissipates revealing white scaly skin. Both creatures’ eyes bulge from their heads in conical structures. Long, thick tails curl up onto their body in a spiral. The beast soon overtakes the second as well just as it begins to draw a long wavy blade. Marcel I sit on the floor, dumbfounded for a moment, before I find the orb of returning on my person. I reveal the object in my hand to Chronia and her pet GM “Oh how I despise those c-chameleons,” Chronia trips over her words. “Glad to know you’re not of their, uh, Gang.” Not knowing how to react you retrieve an Orb of Returning from your robe and present it silently to the giant woman. As her gaze draws upon the device in your palm, you notice her lips purse and eyes squint as if in intense concentration. She whispers, “Now where would you have gotten one of those?” Her beast seems to glance back and forth between the orb and Chronia, despite its lack of eyes, and appears displeased. “Is that supposed to be meant for me?” Chronia asks. Marcel I quickly get out "Yes, my boss said you would know what to do with the orb and to give it to you." I glance down at my hand that is propping me up GM There are a few moments of silence while you look down at your hand. It is older now. You are older, but not as aged as your last encounter with the woman; maybe ten, fifteen years? Perhaps the distance affects the magic somehow, you think. “I don’t want it,” Chronia’s voice washes over you containing a slight tremble. “I... I have everything I n-need here.” The beast’s mood audibly shifts. A quiet cackling follows a deep, pleasured “Yesss”. The creature steps away from your peripheral back towards Chronia who seems to be sifting the sands in search of something. Marcel I clear my throat, "Life outside of the maze is so... Fulfilling! Out there is so much opportunity! All you have to do is seize it! It is scary, but sometimes you have to do scary things to truly live! All you do here is drink and sit on your throne!" I offer out the orb again GM “Do you mock me, stranger‽” The shock of her tone causes you to whip your head up to see her. “I know full well what lies outside this prison. I was not always cursed to live in this...” She trails off as you notice tears begin to form in the corners of her eyes. The teardrops begin to harden almost immediately as they roll down her cheeks. When Chronia had shifted the sands before, she had unearthed an amber casket from beneath her dune. As the crystallized teardrops fall quietly into the white sand, Chronia’s beast places them into the amber casket. “No, if I were to ever leave could you even comprehend the dangers I would place upon the world? What do you think would occur if we’re to approach you now, to take your gracious escape‽” Chronia takes a single step towards you. The beast nods with the worst grin you have ever witnessed. Marcel "I'll die. I'm well aware of this fact. I believe, however, whenever I die in this maze, there is something that brings me back to life. That would explain why you saw me die and why I stand here now." I explain. "Out there, we can find a way to mitigate or even suppress this aura? My boss requested your presence specifically, so he may even have some way to assist you. Please, please take this orb." I say standing up. GM “You truly do not understand.” Her melancholic tone is punctuated with a sigh. “If there ever was a cure out there, I would have found it two-thousand years ago.” She spins in place, dropping down into a sitting position, her beast is now grabbing at her seemingly attempting to distract her. It is clear he doesn’t like where this conversation is heading. Softly, Chronia continues, “Besides, I could never leave without-” Chronia cuts off as the beast bites into her thigh, breaking the skin with a crack. The spines on its back begin to secrete more of that same liquid and Chronia gasps. Her eyes roll back into her head and she smiles. Slowly leaning back into the sand, Chronia exhales a long and slow breath. Nursing off of her blood, the beast turns its eyeless gaze to you across the room and snarls, “Never go.” Chronia seems to have forgotten you were ever here. Marcel I raise my voice "What if I can get your creature onto the other side with you? Would you consider it?" GM “Hmm? What?” Chronia barely pulls herself up, her former attitude lost in her present euphoria, “Oh, that. No, I have everything I need right here.” She lowers herself once more into her new bed of sand. Her beast has finished its blood-feast and has turned to approach you. “Never go. My toy stay.” Marcel "To hell with this!" I yell, tucking my orb into my wizard robe, charging towards Chronia GM Fracture-of-the-Bone attacks you, lunging through the air to snap at your neck. The beast lands next to you as you dodge the attack. Marcel I use my action to run towards Chronia GM With the distance between you and Chronia unimpeded, you dash towards her (30 feet). You estimate that there is about twenty feet left between the two of you. Your joints begin to ache and your stride slows. Unfortunately, the beast is faster than you. The pet lashes at you with his hand, but your leather armor protects you. The contact actually pushes you further slightly (3 feet). Marcel I use a charge action to run towards Chronia GM You urge forward, but your legs begin to give in. The weakness in your limbs overcomes your determination and you collapse. Prone on a bed of sand you make eye contact with Chronia one last time. Her expression is blank and vapid; her mind clearly addled by the beast’s bite. Fracture-of-the-Bone reaches your limp body and rolls you over. Pressing one hand onto your chest and the other poised above your stomach, the beast casts one more cruel smile. The last sensations you feel as your mind dims are the beast’s claws puncturing your armor, your skin ripping, and the nails digging through your insides.
“A ‘torn’ sister. Any will do, Chronia is preferred.” Don’t know what that means but maybe you do.
“If the others fail, then find Fortuna, The Sphinx of Black Waters.” A bit less cryptic than the others. I was also given three magical items to aid me.
The Sunsword, recite the command word on the fuller to activate.
The Robe of Stars, the embroidered stars can be pulled off and thrown. There are only six and it will take a full month for them to grow back, I have also been warned to “Never remove the robe whilst in the maze unless you wish to perish forever”. Whatever that means. Finally, I was granted an immovable rod to use however I need. A second rod was requested but times are tough. There may be another waiting for me at some point if this takes longer than expected.” The place you’ve come to know as Crucem’s room is empty. The unseen sun still blazes, casting the same latticed shadow from the beams in the ceiling. You wait to see if Lady Capelli will emerge from her invisible shadowed path, but she does not. Maybe she hasn’t yet returned from fighting the golden ghosts. (There are 3 paths ahead, left; to the room where shadows become pits. Right: to the Escher stairs, and straight: to the talking serpent mosaic.) Marcel I look around, kind of dismayed at the usual fixture of Crucem not being around. Following the instructions written from myself and trying to remember where Chronia was at, I begin to walk straight towards the talking serpent mosaic GM As you approach the threshold to the mosaic floored room, you hear the sounds of a fight occurring inside. Peeking in you see the mosaic creature who sang to you and Tyko Wort before has stretched herself out of the floor and is eating a masked person with her flat teeth. Another of the masked victims is futility attacking the multicolored serpent with a small dagger with little effect. The short dagger clangs off of the hard skin. “I’ll get you out, Vetch!” Exclaims the knife wielding assailant. Though you doubt it, as the partially consumed victim is slowly turning two-dimensional. You believe these persons to be Elves. Their masks are each golden in the shape of long, raven-like, bird beaks. (Do you interrupt or wait?) Marcel I choose to wait, not really approaching, but waiting for my opportunity to speak as the serpent eats GM “Vetch!” The masked assailant exclaims as the man disappears fully into the flat maw. The serpent begins to sink back into the floor and sings. You didn’t listen to my rhyme And talked amongst yourselves like fools. You’ll pay attention more next time, Now risk your death to find my rules. The mosaic serpent reunites with the tiled floor, and you get the feeling that the rhyme was meant for you too. The remaining masked man picks himself up and charges for the only other exit. You watch as he throws himself of the rope suspension bridge just outside. Marcel I speak up. "Serpent! What is rhyme this time? I was not present to hear your wordplay. Give me a chance before you devour me alive." GM I shan’t repeat my rhyme to you You’ve heard it once before You’ll find it deep inside I’m sure, And don’t forget, I’m keeping score (Roll d20 to try to remember the rhyme) Marcel 1 I cannot remember shit and begin dancing across the room, guessing that this had something to do with the rhyme. GM You think to yourself about your prior encounter with the mosaic. Nothing about the rhyme itself comes to mind. You have a faint detail about crossing the room with Tyko Wort so you decide to follow your mother’s classic advice. When all else fails, try dancing. Advice that was obviously intended for courting and not situations of life and death. The animated serpent grins gleefully and horrendously as you plié and jive across the floor. You reach the rope bridges unharmed. (There are three paths; left: to the sword-stabbed man, right: to the stab-shell, straight: to the chess room.) Marcel I go straight across the bridges, remembering another one of my mother's sayings. When you are confused and lost, keeping walking straight. GM You enter the chess room where Gibba Gognata lies slain by your hand. The giant chess pieces in this room have all been moved to surround the body of the childsnake. Somehow, each of the chess pieces have been smeared with Gibba’s blood. You can hear them murmuring, “mmm, yes”. They ignore you as they bask in their visceral decadence. (Two exits on the opposite wall; left: the inky floor, right: unknown.) Marcel I try to make myself as unnoticeable as possible and go to the left GM You step into a dark room. The marble-like floor is black and viscous. You must move quickly across the floor to avoid sinking, however there are eight, jade eyes that skate across the surface. Each elliptical eye stares straight into the seemingly endless black void above. Furthermore, you feel that you are being watched. (One exit directly across the room. Roll 1d20 to cross the room, or to investigate) Marcel I attempt to cross the room GM The green glow from the eyes ripples on your path, but you’ve done this before and despite the black glaze clinging to your boots you are able to deftly cross the room. You arrive in the plain room with the unripe wine. You once meet a man here whose head resembled the moon who was looking for his son. You think of his “pets” and shudder. You still feel watched. You hear a somber melody being hummed nearby. (Two exits. Right: unknown; Left: the entrance to Chronia Torn’s chamber.) Marcel I sigh and head towards Chronia's chamber, knowing what fate probably awaits me GM Two other rooms empty into this hallway that leads into a corner of Chronia’s chamber. A few meters in the ceiling rises sharply to fifty-foot vaulted ceilings. The floor is turned into fine quartz sand. At the other end furthest from you lies Chronia draped over a dune, seemingly drunk and partially nude. Her silk robe is slowing breaking apart and rotting before your eyes revealing her pale, grey-toned skin. The massive space is decorated by objects and baubles built directly into the wall. Cushions and fabrics are piled in the corners. Skylights fill the room with a pink glow. As you come into view, Chronia’s pet beast emerges from an unlit sphere near her lounge. It’s not much smaller than you but compared to Chronia’s immense size it may as well be a lap-dog. This lap-dog, however, cackles like a hyena as it gazes over to your location. “Visitors. Visitors!”, it chimes. The tubular spikes on its back begin to leak a blueish-greenish drip. You notice now that it has no eyes, making its aggressively human maw seem too large for its head. The beast leaps into the sand and circles around Chronia’s ankle and biting her for attention. The beast breaks her skin and eagerly laps up all the blood that surfaces. Chronia begins to sit up as the beast begins to use its hands to slather its master with the dripping fluid from its back. Chronia seems soothed by this material, and she begins to take notice of you. “Oh, ‘visitors’ my pet?” Her eyelids look heavy but as she realizes who has approached her, she jerks to attention. “You! You’ve returned. How can thiss be?” Despite her slurred words, her voice is delicate and beautiful. Chronia stands fully, her feet kicking around sand. You could almost swear that she’s grown in size since you’ve entered. “And are THEY with you?” The emphasis she puts on the word puts you at unease. Marcel "They?" I asked as I look for the orbs of returning that I know I have on my person GM “Fracture.” she commands to her beast. He charges, making great bounds as it weaves though weathered statues nearly buried in white sand. It’s fast, too fast for you to run. Marcel (shit) GM Your body tries to pull you in two different directions causing you to fall backwards. The beast leaps over yours, taking out some creature that stood just behind you. Crimson blood flies into the air splattering onto the sand and some makes it onto your clothes. The screams of this creature echo inside the chamber making your skin crawl. Another creature near the first reveals itself, as if a curtain pulled was off of a mannequin. An invisibility illusion dissipates revealing white scaly skin. Both creatures’ eyes bulge from their heads in conical structures. Long, thick tails curl up onto their body in a spiral. The beast soon overtakes the second as well just as it begins to draw a long wavy blade. Marcel I sit on the floor, dumbfounded for a moment, before I find the orb of returning on my person. I reveal the object in my hand to Chronia and her pet GM “Oh how I despise those c-chameleons,” Chronia trips over her words. “Glad to know you’re not of their, uh, Gang.” Not knowing how to react you retrieve an Orb of Returning from your robe and present it silently to the giant woman. As her gaze draws upon the device in your palm, you notice her lips purse and eyes squint as if in intense concentration. She whispers, “Now where would you have gotten one of those?” Her beast seems to glance back and forth between the orb and Chronia, despite its lack of eyes, and appears displeased. “Is that supposed to be meant for me?” Chronia asks. Marcel I quickly get out "Yes, my boss said you would know what to do with the orb and to give it to you." I glance down at my hand that is propping me up GM There are a few moments of silence while you look down at your hand. It is older now. You are older, but not as aged as your last encounter with the woman; maybe ten, fifteen years? Perhaps the distance affects the magic somehow, you think. “I don’t want it,” Chronia’s voice washes over you containing a slight tremble. “I... I have everything I n-need here.” The beast’s mood audibly shifts. A quiet cackling follows a deep, pleasured “Yesss”. The creature steps away from your peripheral back towards Chronia who seems to be sifting the sands in search of something. Marcel I clear my throat, "Life outside of the maze is so... Fulfilling! Out there is so much opportunity! All you have to do is seize it! It is scary, but sometimes you have to do scary things to truly live! All you do here is drink and sit on your throne!" I offer out the orb again GM “Do you mock me, stranger‽” The shock of her tone causes you to whip your head up to see her. “I know full well what lies outside this prison. I was not always cursed to live in this...” She trails off as you notice tears begin to form in the corners of her eyes. The teardrops begin to harden almost immediately as they roll down her cheeks. When Chronia had shifted the sands before, she had unearthed an amber casket from beneath her dune. As the crystallized teardrops fall quietly into the white sand, Chronia’s beast places them into the amber casket. “No, if I were to ever leave could you even comprehend the dangers I would place upon the world? What do you think would occur if we’re to approach you now, to take your gracious escape‽” Chronia takes a single step towards you. The beast nods with the worst grin you have ever witnessed. Marcel "I'll die. I'm well aware of this fact. I believe, however, whenever I die in this maze, there is something that brings me back to life. That would explain why you saw me die and why I stand here now." I explain. "Out there, we can find a way to mitigate or even suppress this aura? My boss requested your presence specifically, so he may even have some way to assist you. Please, please take this orb." I say standing up. GM “You truly do not understand.” Her melancholic tone is punctuated with a sigh. “If there ever was a cure out there, I would have found it two-thousand years ago.” She spins in place, dropping down into a sitting position, her beast is now grabbing at her seemingly attempting to distract her. It is clear he doesn’t like where this conversation is heading. Softly, Chronia continues, “Besides, I could never leave without-” Chronia cuts off as the beast bites into her thigh, breaking the skin with a crack. The spines on its back begin to secrete more of that same liquid and Chronia gasps. Her eyes roll back into her head and she smiles. Slowly leaning back into the sand, Chronia exhales a long and slow breath. Nursing off of her blood, the beast turns its eyeless gaze to you across the room and snarls, “Never go.” Chronia seems to have forgotten you were ever here. Marcel I raise my voice "What if I can get your creature onto the other side with you? Would you consider it?" GM “Hmm? What?” Chronia barely pulls herself up, her former attitude lost in her present euphoria, “Oh, that. No, I have everything I need right here.” She lowers herself once more into her new bed of sand. Her beast has finished its blood-feast and has turned to approach you. “Never go. My toy stay.” Marcel "To hell with this!" I yell, tucking my orb into my wizard robe, charging towards Chronia GM Fracture-of-the-Bone attacks you, lunging through the air to snap at your neck. The beast lands next to you as you dodge the attack. Marcel I use my action to run towards Chronia GM With the distance between you and Chronia unimpeded, you dash towards her (30 feet). You estimate that there is about twenty feet left between the two of you. Your joints begin to ache and your stride slows. Unfortunately, the beast is faster than you. The pet lashes at you with his hand, but your leather armor protects you. The contact actually pushes you further slightly (3 feet). Marcel I use a charge action to run towards Chronia GM You urge forward, but your legs begin to give in. The weakness in your limbs overcomes your determination and you collapse. Prone on a bed of sand you make eye contact with Chronia one last time. Her expression is blank and vapid; her mind clearly addled by the beast’s bite. Fracture-of-the-Bone reaches your limp body and rolls you over. Pressing one hand onto your chest and the other poised above your stomach, the beast casts one more cruel smile. The last sensations you feel as your mind dims are the beast’s claws puncturing your armor, your skin ripping, and the nails digging through your insides.
Comments