The Lucifer Effect

[D20ragon]

The Lucifer Effect

Bright golden canaries flew around the waiting room, feathers glinting in the hot light of hells eighth sun. The glow sidled through the tinted windows and stained the faces of the motley group with red. The whole place was oppressively hot, and smelled of dust and rotten eggs. Pale linoleum that felt nastily like damp skin covered the floors, and blistered wallpaper patterned with endless squares was spread over much of the walls, save for where it peeled back to reveal a dirty green paint job. Flies swarmed busily on the featureless plain of the ceiling, somehow avoiding the heat induced lethargy which hung heavy in the air
A red velvet couch lay along the far wall, though nobody sat on it: the velvet was harsh and prickly. Here and there a potted plant rose up from orange and brown clay pots, coiling and uncoiling their tendrils with a weary thirstiness. The shorter ones were underfoot and most had thorns, while the long ones had endeavored to grow to exactly head height. It was very difficult to speak without receiving a mouthful of sulfurous fronds. Somewhere, something sobbed. Otherwise, there was very little noise. Even the imp faces grafted onto the corners of the ceiling were quiet, spittle dripping down from leathery tongues which hung out of beige faces that brought to mind the worst features of pigs and mewling children.
You have been waiting here for at least half an hour, watching as sweat beaded on what passed for your nose, and growing increasingly uncomfortable with each passing moment. Now, finally, one of the imps eyes flicker open. It slurps up the strand of drool dangling from it's chin and coughs. "Party to see Mr. Sanders? He'll have you now."
Between two plants, a patch of the wall bulged and writhed, as though in pain. Then, with sound of wet paper being torn, a doorway is wrenched into being, leading into a dimly lit hallway carpeted with the same fabric that covers the couch.
What do you do?

[Archmage1]

Violet, who appeared suddenly in front of a plant, looks around the room, quite clearly confused. She smiles as she spots the colorful birds, but looks sad as she sees the thirsty plants, and quite horrified as she sees the faces on the corners. Gathering her courage, she uses her magic to carefully water the plants, hoping that would let them feel better. Almost as soon as she finishes, the imp speaks, mentioning a Mr. Sanders.
And a way out appears.

Violet flies into the hallway, looking about, curious, but horribly afraid that the horrors were only just begining.

[Gaius]

"Mmm?" Will blinks his eyes open at the imp's words. "Ah. Good, good. 'bout time..." He's sure to murmur that last bit. He'd decided quite a few minutes ago that if there was a wait ahead, he might as well get some shut-eye. The former werewolf reacquaints himself with his surroundings, and finds the decor just as unique as he remembered. He nods to himself, reaffirming his decision to doze on through. It wasn't the most comfortable place to nap and his legs are a little stiff from standing through it, true, but a good call. He gives his legs a few light stretches, wipes some sweat from his face, and feels better already.

While not the most attentive sort, even Will can't miss the bright splash of pleasing violet against the more... rancid colors. "Huh. Was--" He grunts as he smacks away the foul tendrils of a particularly overeager plant. "Was that fairy always with us...?" Well, the fairy seems interested in being somewhere else, maneuvering through the freshly opened doorway. With a shrug, he starts after it down the hall with the rest of the group, to see what this Mr. Sanders has to say.

[Troacctid]

Bartholomew was absentmindedly reading one of his books during the wait. When the party is called, he folds it closed and stands. "That's us," he says with a nod. He strolls through the portal with the rest of the party. Jade hovers invisibly behind him.

[alanek2002]

*Burp* "These Canaries are quite tasty..."

As the portal opens, Hedratis floats on towards and through it, savoring the taste of the fronds that don't get out of his way in time.

[D20ragon]

Candles, shoved down the throats of still more gagging imp heads adorn the walls, the hot wax dripping down to form thick globs on the carpet. Far too much light for the small flames illuminates the passage, casting into sharp relief the faces of the imps, showing the baggy folds of skin on the fanged baby heads, the skinless muzzles of dogs, the pale slimy eyes and tongues in grotesque detail. Each set of jaws is wrenched open at a clearly unnatural angle, and all hold the candlesticks, far to fat for the throats they were shoved down1. The sobbing continues, and behind it a hum and whir of distant machines can be detected. The heat has changed from muggy to dry. It leaches moisture from your skin aggressively, leaving it flaky and too tightly drawn. The velvet under your feet has suffered the same treatment, crumbling to dust under your weight.
Although the distance from the waiting room to the door at the far end of the hallway is probably no more than fifty feet, the pattern of the wallpaper on the walls and floor seems to warp the time, red and beige stripes stretching endlessly on, somehow never reaching a conclusion.
When you do finally reach the shabby door, the heat is redoubled. A brass doorknob mocks you, it's surface quivering in the heat. What small floating scraps of floating velvet you've kicked up burst into flame, then crumble to ash as they draw near, and you imagine you can hear yourself sizzling if you draw too close. The door itself is nothing to look at. Chipped white paint covers metal of some sort, full of dents and bumps. The hinges have are ancient, evidenced by the small pile of rust flakes in the corners. Mr. Sanders isn't one for neatness, it seems.

1.
Imps are everywhere in hell, delivering messages, cleaning streets, mending things, killing vermin, serving as spies and pets, etc. Another popular use, as evidenced here, is using their body parts as machinery or utensils.

Imps are nigh impossible to kill, despite being very weak themselves.

[Archmage1]

Violet looks around, swiftly becoming worried, as it was getting too warm. But her only way out was further along, so she continued, and then she reaches the door, and she stops, hoping that someone else can open it. Maybe one of those giants could!

[alanek2002]

Hedratis floats a little closer to the door, uncaring of the heat, and touches the doorknob with a tentacle.

If nothing happens, he opens the door.

:P Immunity to fire for the win!

[Archmage1]

Violet jumps back as a... thing tries to touch the door.

[Troacctid]

The decor is pretty much what Bartholomew expected. He walks at a dignified pace. Hedratis reaches the door ahead of him and opens it.

[D20ragon]

Hedratis floats a little closer to the door, uncaring of the heat, and touches the doorknob with a tentacle.

If nothing happens, he opens the door.

:P Immunity to fire for the win!

Your ooze engulfs and quenches the doorknob, hardly even noticing the slight sting as a needle trap is duly absorbed into your mass.
The hinges have ceased to function as such, and the metal actually has to be bent in order to open the door. From behind the ceiling-high stack of parchment, skins, and paper that bars your way, a thick growl can be heard, along with the sobbing, clearly coming from the same source. Nothing else of the office is visible. Several weeping imp-lights have been impaled on the spokes of a chandelier, dampening the stack of documents slightly.
Several loose papers sway down around the party, disturbed by the slight draft. A few have been viciously circled and written on with red and black pen, the vehemence of the author so great that in several places the pen pierced the page. Although every sheet is in a different hand, and often in several languages, none of which could be found on the prime material, the notes are all in the same tight script.

[Gaius]

Will wrinkles his nose as he walks; he finds the place roughly as offensive to the nose as it is to the eye. He's thankful not to have as keen a nose as he used to, though old habits die hard. He groans. "Really, this better be a hell of a job." He thinks better of that word choice after a moment. "Shut up, still sleepy."

He nods his approval to the floating green cube and heads in after, to find tall stacks blocking all view. Will clears his throat loudly. "Salutations. We were told you were ready for our meeting, Mr. Sanders. So, what did you have in mind for the..." he does a quick recount, "four of us?"

[Archmage1]

Violet, looking quite confused, flies up to Will, speaking softly.
"Who's Mr. Sanders? And who are you, and the cube? And the other giant?"

[Gaius]

Will turns his head sharply and blinks in surprise at the fairy. "... Oh," he whispers, "I figured I'd just slept through your intro... So you've really got no idea what...?" The confusion on her face makes the answer plain before he finishes the question. "Right..." he frowns. "Okay, well... Mr. Sanders is the no-doubt lovely gentleman on the other side of those papers with a proposition for us. Kinda meeting with him now, so... just sit tight a bit, okay?"

After a moment, the first giant decides to go a bit further. "Okay, proper meet-and-greet later, but for now:" Will points his thumb in the warlock's direction. "Bartholomew." The thumb shifts to the cube. "... I wanna say 'Headrat'...? That's close." He jerks the thumb to himself and flashes a grin. "Will." The man's thumb falls to rest toward the little newcomer. "Annnnnd...?" he prompts her.

[Archmage1]

Settling down a bit, although clearly not enjoying the heat, Violet seems calmer as Will explains a bit.
"Ok, that makes sense. Maybe he can help me get home! And maybe convince Mab to take a look at my garden too! So you're Will, and that's Bartholomew? And the hard to see cube is something like Headrat? Maybe we could ask him?"
At his hint, she looks slightly embarrassed, but she smiles, and answers.
"I'm Violet!"

[alanek2002]

The Cube tilts slightly midair, towards the side, and says: "Ah, my name is Hedratis."

[Archmage1]

Violet waves at the jiggling cube.
"Hi Hedratis!"

[D20ragon]

As Will steps forward, ready to foray among the stacked documents, the closest pile to him erupts, spilling pages into the air. With a thick and slobbering cry, a gigantic personage of some sort lumbers blindly forward, oblivious of the party who crowds in the doorway. The only thing immediately obvious is the sheer girth of the figure, which easily out measures that of even sizable oak trees. Besides that, only a color is evident, as a wall of scarlet devil flesh surges into, around and eventually through the narrow doorway. The beast smells of sweat and honey. It's head seems to be squelched into it's gelatinous neck, so to avoid the low ceilings. In a step, it is upon you, and as for Will, he'll have to move quick if he wants to avoid the rubbery folds of fat he's pressed against.



If your ears are keen enough to pick up sounds over the Devils cries, you can make out much higher voice, tossing a parting shot in a pathetic sort of way.
"Fine! I don't need you anyway, if you can't listen to orders! Go cry on someone else's desk!"

[Troacctid]

"Whoop! 'Scuse me!" says Bartholomew, floating swiftly out of the devil's way.

[Archmage1]

Violet, despite the delightful smell of honey, is quite wary, easily avoiding the gelatinous mass headed towards the door. However, she does hear the voice, and she flies off to investigate(Listen of 25, taking 10)

[Gaius]

"Ugh, the hell!?" Gagging, Will takes evasive action before the devil clogs the opening like fat clogs most of its arteries. Of course, failing that, he gives it a feral snarl and lets his fists show it to mind its damned manners.

Tumble: [roll0]
OR, FAILING THAT
Punch 1: [roll1] to hit, [roll2] for damage
Punch 1: [roll3] to hit, [roll4] for damage

Listen Check failed. (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=18619518&postcount=545)

[alanek2002]

"Ah, stop!" Hedratis exclaims. "You are too fat to fit past me!"

I mean, I can probably squeeze myself into a shape that the others can fit by... since they are medium. This guy is presumably at least large.

[D20ragon]

"Whoop! 'Scuse me!" says Bartholomew, floating swiftly out of the devil's way.


Violet, despite the delightful smell of honey, is quite wary, easily avoiding the gelatinous mass headed towards the door. However, she does hear the voice, and she flies off to investigate(Listen of 25, taking 10)


"Ugh, the hell!?" Gagging, Will takes evasive action before the devil clogs the opening like fat clogs most of its arteries. Of course, failing that, he gives it a feral snarl and lets his fists show it to mind its damned manners.

Tumble: [roll0]
OR, FAILING THAT
Punch 1: [roll1] to hit, [roll2] for damage
Punch 1: [roll3] to hit, [roll4] for damage

Listen Check failed. (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=18619518&postcount=545)


"Ah, stop!" Hedratis exclaims. "You are too fat to fit past me!"

I mean, I can probably squeeze myself into a shape that the others can fit by... since they are medium. This guy is presumably at least large.

A bubbling hum sounds from the crease where the head is hidden. Heedless of those before it, the behemoth surges forward, thick flesh smacking Will in the face even as he evades the rest of its mass. He lands against a stack of letters written on painfully green scales, which slowly give way, toppling over with a slow relentless motion. Bartholomew gets the best view of the thing, off to the side and above as he is1. Hedratis's plea goes unheard, or at least unheeded. A strangely delicate foot, pointed and covered with yellow chitin smooshes down through him, dragging him along the floor as the beast takes another step. Violet, on the other hand, is unaffected by the mayhem below. Through the canyons of papers the devil has smashed, she can spot a desk, and on it, a golden owl mask, beautifully rendered. It's feathers are each separate and almost seem soft, so burnished and buffed is the metal.

1) Roll Spot

[Archmage1]

Violet, spotting the desk, flies over to it, hoping to get a better look at the mask.

[Gaius]

After staring up at the ceiling for a short time, Will takes his slow slide down Painful Paperwork Mountain in... probably as much stride as anyone could. "Again: The hell?" Mild discombobulation having displaced his rage and indignity, he lies there a moment longer, rubbing his cheek. He then begins to pull himself up. Will looks around the ridiculous piles of paperwork and decides not to draw attention to the the way he has inadvertently toppled one.

The self-styled gentleman draws a breath, briefly regretting it in this pungent place, and tries to proceed as a professional. Which is tricky, given the way he's awkwardly peering around stacks for the possible employer. "So... With that diversion outta the way... Mr. Sanders. You said you've got some business for us."

[D20ragon]

A bubbling hum sounds from the crease where the head is hidden. Heedless of those before it, the behemoth surges forward, thick flesh smacking Will in the face even as he evades the rest of its mass. He lands against a stack of letters written on painfully green scales, which slowly give way, toppling over with a slow relentless motion. Bartholomew gets the best view of the thing, off to the side and above as he is1. Hedratis's plea goes unheard, or at least unheeded. A strangely delicate foot, pointed and covered with yellow chitin smooshes down through him, dragging him along the floor as the beast takes another step. Violet, on the other hand, is unaffected by the mayhem below. Through the canyons of papers the devil has smashed, she can spot a desk, and on it, a golden owl mask, beautifully rendered. It's feathers are each separate and almost seem soft, so burnished and buffed is the metal.

1) Roll Spot

The warlock nearly catches a glimpse of something papery tucked into the neck fat where the head ought to be, but further examination is interrupted by the irritated swat aimed at him. [roll0]


Violet, spotting the desk, flies over to it, hoping to get a better look at the mask.
The mask appears mundane apart from the expert craftsmanship, not even the slight glow or hint of pepper that usually accompanies magic. Still, the reek of devil could be dulling Violets1 senses. The gold is absolutely saturated with the smell, a sickly sweet stench of cake, blood and sugar water.
1). Roll any sensory skill(s) you'd like


After staring up at the ceiling for a short time, Will takes his slow slide down Painful Paperwork Mountain in... probably as much stride as anyone could. "Again: The hell?" Mild discombobulation having displaced his rage and indignity, he lies there a moment longer, rubbing his cheek. He then begins to pull himself up. Will looks around the ridiculous piles of paperwork and decides not to draw attention to the the way he has inadvertently toppled one.

The self-styled gentleman draws a breath, briefly regretting it in this pungent place, and tries to proceed as a professional. Which is tricky, given the way he's awkwardly peering around stacks for the possible employer. "So... With that diversion outta the way... Mr. Sanders. You said you've got some business for us."

The expected employer does not respond. Rather, Will's attention is directed to a magnificent golden owl mask which lies on an empty desk, the surface scarred and stained. Violet hovers nearby, wings beating slowly as she examines the scene.

[Gaius]

Will frowns as the search for Sanders comes up empty-handed. That there may be more to the mask doesn't immediately occur to him. Or occur to him at all, as it turns out, as his patience runs a bit thin. 'Well, when life gives you lemons...' He draws in a breath again -- and again regrets it. "Alright, Mr. Sanders," he addresses the room, professional smile back on. "With all this silence, a man can only take two things. You've had a last-minute change of heart or aren't in a position to meet at the moment. Whichever, I'm not needed right now. So, I'll be back shortly. Just have to tend to some more..." The ex-werewolf swipes a thumb along his cheek, wiping off still more of the demon's sweat. "... personal business. Just pipe up and I'll stop in my tracks."

Turning to exit, Will passes by Violet. "Hey, Vi, keep on the lookout for Mr. Sanders 'til I get back. If the meeting kicks off, try to keep it slow, y'understand?" He pauses to consider the wisdom in leaving the somewhat ditzy Petal he barely knows in a position of authority, but doesn't consider very long. Mostly because there's something else he really wants to do right now. Unless Sanders chooses to pipe up, the muscular fellow strolls out of the room, cracking his knuckles.

Failing that, once Will spots the giant wall of red (with its leg engulfed in Hedratis), he takes off toward it at a run, shouting, "Hey, fatass!" Minding the ceiling, he pushes off into a jump when he's close enough, rears back with his fist, and provides the devil with a very forceful letter of introduction to the ground.

Will's opting for a Leaping Punch and, should it hit, Stunning Punch.
EDIT: Rolls corrected from here (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=18752256&postcount=566)
Jump check (1d20+13, DC 20) : [roll0] 32

Unarmed Fist - Attack (1d20+14) : [roll1] 34
Unarmed Fist - Damage (4d8+7) : [roll2] 28 (doubled on Jump check success, so 56)
Stunning Punch - Fortitude Save DC for Stun: 18 (20 on Jump check success)
Leaping Punch - Fortitude Save DC for enemy falling prone: 10 + damage dealt

[D20ragon]

Will frowns as the search for Sanders comes up empty-handed. That there may be more to the mask doesn't immediately occur to him. Or occur to him at all, as it turns out, as his patience runs a bit thin. 'Well, when life gives you lemons...' He draws in a breath again -- and again regrets it. "Alright, Mr. Sanders," he addresses the room, professional smile back on. "With all this silence, a man can only take two things. You've had a last-minute change of heart or aren't in a position to meet at the moment. Whichever, I'm not needed right now. So, I'll be back shortly. Just have to tend to some more..." The ex-werewolf swipes a thumb along his cheek, wiping off still more of the demon's sweat. "... personal business. Just pipe up and I'll stop in my tracks."

Turning to exit, Will passes by Violet. "Hey, Vi, keep on the lookout for Mr. Sanders 'til I get back. If the meeting kicks off, try to keep it slow, y'understand?" He pauses to consider the wisdom in leaving the somewhat ditzy Petal he barely knows in a position of authority, but doesn't consider very long. Mostly because there's something else he really wants to do right now. Unless Sanders chooses to pipe up, the muscular fellow strolls out of the room, cracking his knuckles.

Failing that, once Will spots the giant wall of red (with its leg engulfed in Hedratis), he takes off toward it at a run, shouting, "Hey, fatass!" Minding the ceiling, he pushes off into a jump when he's close enough, rears back with his fist, and provides the devil with a very forceful letter of introduction to the ground.

Will's opting for a Leaping Punch and, should it hit, Stunning Punch.
EDIT: Rolls corrected from here (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=18752256&postcount=566)
Jump check (1d20+13, DC 20) : [roll0] 32

Unarmed Fist - Attack (1d20+14) : [roll1] 34
Unarmed Fist - Damage (4d8+7) : [roll2] 28 (doubled on Jump check success, so 56)
Stunning Punch - Fortitude Save DC for Stun: 18 (20 on Jump check success)
Leaping Punch - Fortitude Save DC for enemy falling prone: 10 + damage dealt

With a meaty thud, the palm of the Devil collides with the chest of the warlock, dampening his garments and spinning him neatly around to face the nearest wall. The hand is too fleshy to deal much damage, so Bartholomew is left with the impression of being buffeted by a pillow. One made of fatty ham.
You have time to take one standard action before you hit the wall.

Does the mask wobble a touch? Violets eyes flit here and there as she buzzes about, flitting to one side of the mask, than swooping in to view it from another angle. Did it croak? A muffled squeak, perhaps? Something might be under those marvelously shiny feathers.

The Devils hand barely has time to collide with Bartholomew before a veritable falling anvil of a fist, courtesy of Will, pays him back with interest. It's like hitting a sandbag, and he's honestly not quite sure how much damage he did, but fall the thing does, face first into the wall of slime that engulfs its feet and much of the hall. A brief moment of shock ripples over the beast, before the secretions of Hedratis go to work and it can't move so much as an eyebrow. If you could see its eyes, that his.

[Archmage1]

Violet tries to pick up the mask, thinking that it would look wonderful on one of the two giants.

[Gaius]

"Ha! Take that, Chubsy. Nice going on reception, Big Green!" Will looks around, a celebratory grin spreading across his face. "I dunno about anyone else, but I'm feeling pretty good all of a sudden. How 'bout you, Bartholomew?"

[Troacctid]

"Hrrgh," wheezes Bartholomew in reply, doing a flip in midair to avoid flying into the wall.

[Gaius]

"That's the spirit." Will turns on his heel, shaking out his fist, and starts back for the office. "Alright, back to being kept waiting by our completely savory potential employer." He heads back in to see if Violet's got any news in the... minute or two he was out.

[D20ragon]

"Hrrgh," wheezes Bartholomew in reply, doing a flip in midair to avoid flying into the wall.

The warlocks magic grips the air, slowing him to a gentle halt before any damage can be taken. Below him, the sorry mass of devil flesh quivers, struggling to emerge from the ooze his upper body is encased in.



Violet tries to pick up the mask, thinking that it would look wonderful on one of the two giants.

The skin of Violets fingers ripples, and she can feel something of immense weight pass directly over her head, industriously pressing down into every last one of her pores. After what seems like hours, the mask flips over under her force complacently, revealing a large frog, the size of a mans head, and colored a black that evades attention, vision rolling off of it the same way water refuses to cling to the feathers of a duck. It stares at her expectantly. Somewhere in a further corner of the room, the rustling of papers and a few muttered words heralds the arrival of Will.

[Archmage1]

Violet is quite shocked as she feels her skin rippling, and a weight pressing down on her. After realizing that struggling didn't accomplish anything, she was lost in horror, for hours, but then, the mask flips over, revealing a rather strange frog.
She blinks, surprised by the appearance of the frog, before she smiles happily.
"Hi!"

[Gaius]

Will winds his way back through the labyrinth of towering stacks and heaps of collapsed documents. To challenge himself, he goes for a different route than the first. A few dead-ends later, he spies the edge of the desk, sighs in relief, and makes his way over. "Alright, Flower girl. What's the good word, and--" He pauses, spying an amphibian on the mask and a Violet who seems ecstatic to see it. "Uh. Made a friend?" He scratches the side of his neck.

'This has been the most bizarre business deal...' Will thinks to himself. And not strictly as a pejorative; he places no small value on not getting bored.

[Troacctid]

Bartholomew coughs lightly, brushes himself off, and puts on his best "I meant to do that" face as he regains his composure.

He plucks the paper from the folds of the blob's neck with mage hand and examines it as he glides into the office.

[Archmage1]

Violet looks from the nice frog, and to Will, as she speaks, cheerfully.
"Hi again! I moved the mask, and found him! Isn't he nice!"

[Gaius]

"Uh. Sure. That's a... distinctive li'l fellah, there." After a few moments, Will grows a little perplexed by how much trouble he's having focusing on the black frog. Stubborn man that he is, he keeps at it, brow furrowing. He also tries to think of ways in which the head-sized frog could have even fit under that mask. No dice. He takes a break from this doomed staring contest to cast a conversational tone around the room: "So... Mr. Sanders. Ready for that meeting whenever you are."

[D20ragon]

Violet is quite shocked as she feels her skin rippling, and a weight pressing down on her. After realizing that struggling didn't accomplish anything, she was lost in horror, for hours, but then, the mask flips over, revealing a rather strange frog.
She blinks, surprised by the appearance of the frog, before she smiles happily.
"Hi!"
The frog bulges slightly, and it's lips peel open, bone white tongue, covered in slime, protruding from them. From the soft clay-like flesh, a sharp face is sculpted, with a sharp nose, thick, dry lips, and slick bald pate.
"Hi" it responds simply, in a thin yet resonant voice. Its teeth have no definition, rather, they are just a flat wall of bone behind the lips.


Bartholomew coughs lightly, brushes himself off, and puts on his best "I meant to do that" face as he regains his composure.

He plucks the paper from the folds of the blob's neck with mage hand and examines it as he glides into the office.
The paper takes more time to unearth than the warlock had anticipated, stubbornly resisting his attempts to yank it free. As he manages to push aside some of the fat, Bartholomew can see the top of what appears to be a large wasp nest. Below him, in the slime, the devil writhes in pain, redoubling his slowed efforts every time he pulls.


"Uh. Sure. That's a... distinctive li'l fellah, there." After a few moments, Will grows a little perplexed by how much trouble he's having focusing on the black frog. Stubborn man that he is, he keeps at it, brow furrowing. He also tries to think of ways in which the head-sized frog could have even fit under that mask. No dice. He takes a break from this doomed staring contest to cast a conversational tone around the room: "So... Mr. Sanders. Ready for that meeting whenever you are."
"Ready and waiting," the frog-thing says softly. "In fact, I was merely introducing myself to Violet. Violet," the tongue turns, nuzzles up to the fey cheek of the flying girl. "I am Mr. Sanders, your new employer."

[Troacctid]

The paper takes more time to unearth than the warlock had anticipated, stubbornly resisting his attempts to yank it free. As he manages to push aside some of the fat, Bartholomew can see the top of what appears to be a large wasp nest. Below him, in the slime, the devil writhes in pain, redoubling his slowed efforts every time he pulls.

Bartholomew's mage hand tugs at the paper. It doesn't budge. It tugs again. Still nothing. Bartholomew gives it a few more tugs, grows frustrated, and hits the paper with a burst of sonic energy to tear it to pieces. (Baleful utterance.) Pfftffftblffb. :smallyuk:

[Archmage1]

Violet smiles delightedly.
"Yay! Maybe you can help me find a way home! Frogs are always helpful. Well, except when they try to eat me, but they're nice other than that!"
She doesn't seem to respond to the licking, until, suddenly, she does, darting down, and hugging the frog.

[Gaius]

Will jumps a moment, but otherwise attempts not to find this creepy, or at least not to let it show. His eyes widen, but he otherwise keeps a lid on it. Mostly. "... Ah. Well then." He's grateful for Violet's cheery banter; it gives him a moment to compose himself. He turns on his usual lazy smile. "Then it's a pleasure to meet ya, sir." The self-styled gentleman extends a hand to shake before considering their relative sizes, and how demonic etiquette might differ. In an attempt to salvage the situation, he tucks in all but his middle and forefinger, to give the amphibious forelimb something of comparable size to shake.

Fortunately, should this prove too awkward to go anywhere, it's only a few seconds later that some manner of arcane clatter is heard from the hall. Will coughs. "I'm eager to get going on our meeting, Mr. Sanders. The other members of our... venture... should be joinin' us any moment." He says this last bit while leaning back toward the hall, hoping "the other members of their venture" take the hint.

[D20ragon]

Bartholomew's mage hand tugs at the paper. It doesn't budge. It tugs again. Still nothing. Bartholomew gives it a few more tugs, grows frustrated, and hits the paper with a burst of sonic energy to tear it to pieces. (Baleful utterance.) Pfftffftblffb. :smallyuk:

The paper tears far too slowly, a rift oozing open down the hexagonal chambers and spilling wax in a steady stream. Red as apples, the stuff reflects the dim light, squirming atop the ooze that covers the floor, stubbornly refusing to mingle with it. Further into the hive, white squirming can be perceived, grubs the size of a thumb interlocking in slowly shifting patterns: a few letters here and there, a star, a spiral, a cube, all soft and chitinous. The surplus wax has all slumped out, but still more flows, rhythmically, drawn from something gently pulsing, obscured from sight by the maggots.


Violet smiles delightedly.
"Yay! Maybe you can help me find a way home! Frogs are always helpful. Well, except when they try to eat me, but they're nice other than that!"
She doesn't seem to respond to the licking, until, suddenly, she does, darting down, and hugging the frog.

"I'm glad to hear you feel that way, sweet," the tongue slurps softly. "I always did have a liking for fae. So helpful..."


Will jumps a moment, but otherwise attempts not to find this creepy, or at least not to let it show. His eyes widen, but he otherwise keeps a lid on it. Mostly. "... Ah. Well then." He's grateful for Violet's cheery banter; it gives him a moment to compose himself. He turns on his usual lazy smile. "Then it's a pleasure to meet ya, sir." The self-styled gentleman extends a hand to shake before considering their relative sizes, and how demonic etiquette might differ. In an attempt to salvage the situation, he tucks in all but his middle and forefinger, to give the amphibious forelimb something of comparable size to shake.

Fortunately, should this prove too awkward to go anywhere, it's only a few seconds later that some manner of arcane clatter is heard from the hall. Will coughs. "I'm eager to get going on our meeting, Mr. Sanders. The other members of our... venture... should be joinin' us any moment." He says this last bit while leaning back toward the hall, hoping "the other members of their venture" take the hint.

The tongue-face turns toward Will, and bone sheathed in soft skin pinches his finger painfully. "and, if I may say so, between friends, " the voice drops to a nearly subsonic level, remaining only as a reminder of slime and silk in the ear, "so innocent as well. I am ever so pleased to make your acquaintance, Bill." A nod towards the hall. "And I understand perfectly. There is always one member of a team that doesn't.. click as well as the rest. I am pleased to have identified yours so quickly. Come, on, we're waiting!" This last shout is directed to the warlock, and carries with it a whisper, that taps at Bartholomew's ear as if to ask permission to say it's piece.

[Archmage1]

Violet smiles cheerfully.
"Come on, sillies! Something is going to happen!"
After a few more moments, she stops hugging the frog, and steps back a bit, still watching.

[Gaius]

Will grimaces a bit at the painful nip. It's not the least professional thing a new employer's ever tried to do to him, but it's not far off. He forces that grimace into a small smile and retracts his hand. "Actually, the name's Will, Mr. Sanders," he corrects, with some degree of politeness. The brawler finds himself less inclined to be as polite as he's been, so he appreciates that the Petal is proving adept at a charm offensive.

He turns back toward the door, watching for the warlock and Cube. He wonders what they could possibly be up to out there.

[alanek2002]

At this point, Hedratis has managed to flow around and away from the creature inside him, towards the office.

"Bleh... I didn't even know that things could taste bad!" He exclaims, forming a small pseudopod and shearing it off, trying to get rid of the taste.

"Hard enough to vibrate in a way you guys can understand, without a massive pile of lard and... wrong, making it harder." Hedratis mutters, as he enters the study.

[Troacctid]

Bartholomew enters the office alongside Hedratis and settles into a relaxed pose midair. Jade follows invisibly behind him.

[alanek2002]

Noting Batholomew floating, Hedratis quivers ever so slightly in a shrug, and floats a few inches off the ground as well.

[Archmage1]

Violet smiles happily at the frog, clearly believing that it would speak soon, as everyone was there.

[D20ragon]

Mr. Sanders bobs his head as the remaining two members of the party come into view, curling his lips back to expose what passes for his teeth.
"I'll admit, you've got a certain something the other misfits I interview don't usually possess." The light catches in the creases of his throat as he directs his vision to the liquifying foot of the devil in the hall. The candle imps eye it, drool running down their chins with the wax. "A touch more murder, perhaps? But I digress..."
The desk he sits on is metal, enchanted poorly to resemble wood. A faint checkerboard pattern covers the whole thing, vaguely repulsive to the eye, a mash of faded tones of grey, pale pink, green, brown. Silence fills the room naturally, well accustomed to it's shape.
"Why are you here?"
The devils voice catches slightly; he coughs, and a leather folder of papers flutters open from a stack behind him, overstuffed, tearing at the corners.
"A devils deal... it's a hard sell, you know? Word gets out. We don't-ahem, didn't use to do business like this, all formal."
The folder falls, finally, strewing paper across the floor, the documents sliding fast on the linoleum.
"Could someone pick those up and hand the packet with your names on it to me? Short arms, you know," the frog asks.

[Archmage1]

Moving quickly, Violet catches the papers, and brings them back, in no particular order.

[Gaius]

Will murmurs a, "Finally," under his breath as the gentleman and gentleblob float in. He smirks at the accolades. "Well, we try." Then comes time for some polite listening.

He represses a groan as the papers go flying about. "But of course," Will says through a thin smile. Still, at least Violet seizes on them as they go. He himself catches hold of the folder, puts Violet's orderless pile back into its home, and slides it all across the desk back to Mr. Sanders. He takes care to leave his fingers at a polite distance from the little demon's chompers. "There you are. So, let's hear about this arrangement."

[D20ragon]

The devil takes the papers without offering a "thank you".
"Getting down to it," he says, curling his tongue down to lick a fat shiny thumb, "I suppose you all are appropriately armed? I've already buzzed for your transport, and the briefing you receive should adequately prepare you. When you are ready, place your palm on my desk, and follow the secretary when she arrives. I've been assured your payment will be most satisfactory."

[Archmage1]

Violet sits on the desk, hands down, her palms flat against the desk.
"Armed? Why would we need to be armed?"

[Gaius]

"Oh, I'm sure we'll find out soon enough," Will grins at Violet. There remains some irritation that their employer continues to dance around the point, but he's honestly just happy it sounds like they'll be doing something shortly. Sure, he did get to punch Blobbo into submission, but all this waiting around in an office has grated on him.

The bruiser starts to set his palm on the desk, then thinks better of it and scooches over to give Hedratis the room he'd need. As he properly sets it down, he chuckles. "Heh, 'properly armed.' I'd like to see what could turn this body into less of a lethal weapon." Fate properly tempted, Will waits for the promised briefing, etc.

[alanek2002]

Hedratis dips a corner slightly as he winces. "Ah, I kinda melt through wood?" He mentions as he extends a tentacle towards the desk. "Though, at least wood tastes good. It'll be nice to get the taste of that thing out of me."

"Oh! And what is a palm, by the way? I think it's some sort of human body part, but I don't have those..." Hedratis questions, as he begins to 'taste' the wood.

[Troacctid]

"A true genius is ALWAYS appropriately armed!" says Bartholomew, swooping down to the desk with a haughty swagger in his proverbial step and placing his palm on the desk. (Because Jade is invisible, no one sees her rolling her eyes.)

[D20ragon]

Neck wobbling, Mr. Sanders swallows his second face, leaving a expressionless toad staring out at the party. Muffled, he leaves your party with a few final words, before hopping ponderously out the door you entered by.
"A rare one, that" he says of Violet. "Preserve that innocence, if you can. You may find it valuable."
As Hedratis and Bartholomew enter, he reassures the ooze: "Oh, have no fear. That's not actually wood. Even my funding has limits, you know. Now you sit tight a moment longer and someone will be along to deal with you."

Several uncomfortable minutes seep by, punctuated by the soft whines of the candle imps and the slow rustle of paper. Under each appendage, the desk develops a slight damp spot, sweet smelling and sticky.
The reverie is broken by the appearance of a woman devil holding a clipboard in fingers that are several feet long and marked at intervals down their length. Her head is shaved, and etched into the crown of her head are the numbers from one to ten in at least six different tongues.
"You may remove your hands from the desk now," she says quietly, "and follow me, please. Read this on the way." A book the size and shape of a ten cent novel is produced from a pocket of her long quilted skirt, each patch of which is a carefully embroidered graph. A second later, and she is a door which most likely was not there before, and in the next she is halfway down a hall that is nostril achingly dry. She does not walk, and indeed, you cannot tell if she has legs or feet at all.

[Archmage1]

Violet looks disappointed as the second, friendly face is swallowed, but the strangeness of it doesn't seem to faze her in the slightest.
"Aw... he was nice!"
As the minutes go by, Violet looks like she's going to talk, but, after a visible struggle, she falls silent. Several times. Indeed, it was a conflict such that bards would sing about it for all time, if they knew. But, she manages to fall silent, and, while she fidgets quite a lot, she manages to stay in place.
Once the giant finger woman appears, Violet seems delighted.
"Hi! You've got really big fingers! And did you know you have numbers on your head? And lots of strange things too!"
Asked to follow, Violet follows, looking quite cheerful, but as she asks them to read the book, she chimes in again.
"Can we see the book? If you really want us to read it? It's really hard to read while you're holding it!"
At that point, Violet passes into the dry corridor, and looks sad.
"It's really dry here! But I can help with that!"
She focuses, and, after everyone has entered the dry corridor, it starts to rain, a veritable sheet of water falling from the ceiling.
(Create Water)
After the slightly damp petal finishes, she smiles cheerfully.
"Isn't that better!"

[Gaius]

Will finds his irritation growing a bit at the delay, the sticky feeling on his palm, and then the new and exciting way of denying them information. At least the giant-fingered lady feels like a drop on the Creepiness Index from the freaky frog-tongue-face. This lasts until she demonstrates a stubborn refusal to visibly stroll, reveal the state of her lower torso, and properly obey the laws of linear time.

Will's patience is renewed slightly at Violet's observations. "Yeah! What the little ball of color said." This renewal is dampened -- along with a slight increase in respect for Violet and, well, all the rest of the party -- as the Petal proceeds to douse them all. While it is actually rather refreshing in that oppressive hallway, the effects last only a few moments. Then the straw that breaks the camel's back turns out to be water weight.

"Oh, for crying out loud!" Will shouts, throwing up his arms. "Look. I can appreciate showmanship and goin' to crazy lengths to stand out. Believe me, I get it." The well-muscled man draws a breath. "But if you're gonna obfuscate a job this blatantly, just own it! I mean, what is this? 'Oh, there's a manual to read on the way, 'cept you couldn't even if we'd given it to you, which we won't!' Who does that!?"

[Troacctid]

"It's a damned travesty," agrees Bartholomew as Jade invisibly blow-dries his hair. "Hell if I'm making another deal with these devils after this. I should go to the celestial realms next time--I bet their customer service is heavenly in comparison. Ow!" He stops for a second and rubs the back of his head as if someone invisible had just punched it.

[alanek2002]

To keep in line with the grumbling

"Bah." Hedratis thinks as he floats with the group, sagging slightly. "They never consider that some of us don't have eyes."

Thankfully, as hedratis wasn't paying too much attention at that point, Bartholemew (and his friend, whoever she was) were behind him when he stopped for that second. Gelatinous cube goo is much harder to get out of hair than water, after all.


It is dangerous to stop walking suddenly when a gelatinous cube is floating along with you!

[Archmage1]

Violet takes the book with a smile.
"Yaay! Thank you!"
However, it soon becomes quite clear that she isn't really strong enough to carry it, as her laboured flying keeps getting closer and closer to the ground.

[Gaius]

Will finds his spirits lifted -- in much the same way the book is not -- at the sight of the encumbered pixie sinking lower and lower. As though playing a game of chicken, he waits until she's nearly reached the floor before taking the tome off her hands. "Thaaaank you." He's not sure he remembers seeing the book handed off, but he guesses that's about right for the way the demon chick rolls.

In any case, still following along after her, Will holds up the book for others' benefit and starts giving it a read. "Alright, let's see what we've gotten ourselves into..."

[Archmage1]

As the heavy book is taken, Violet settles on Will's head to read.

[alanek2002]

"Phew. At least somebody is reading it aloud." Hedratis thinks, but doesn't say anything.

"It's no fair. I can't read because I have no eyes. and all the ones I try to take small fuzzy creatures just dissolve!"

[D20ragon]

*The book contains far more fine print than any of the party has ever seen, and Violet cannot be entirely sure that in some places the damnably small handwriting isn't just squiggles. The important subject matter is easy enough to pick out however, as the words "Liberate the Priest" are printed in large spikey font across each page. At the very end of the book, a hand drawn map detailing the inside of a building can be made out, along with the scribbled note "expect magical barriers and heavy resistance". A star has been drawn on the roof of the building, and if Violet squints, she can make out "drop point here" through the inky thumbprints that coat the paper.

*posting from phone in a hurry, please excuse, I will fix soon

[Gaius]

Will stops squinting at the worse-than-chicken-scratch text on the page very soon after starting, particularly after his head passenger earns her keep, giving him an excellent excuse. Fortunately, the few bits he can make out and the nuggets she shares are worthy enough of comment. "Ooh, heavy resistance. An all-time favorite." It's amazing how much Will's mood has improved from a little bit of knowing what the hell he's doing. "Not so much magic barriers. Anyone got those covered?"

[Troacctid]

"I am the greatest genius in the world," Bartholomew points out. "I'm sure between my brilliant intellect and your...whatever it is you all contribute, we can win the day."

[alanek2002]

"Certainly... If one of you would read it to the floating gelatinous cube with no eyes." Hedratis deadpans, while floating fairly still.

"I mean, it's not like It would be at all helpful..."

[D20ragon]

The party enters the vast room abruptly, each being absorbed in thoughts of attack, concern about payment, or simple admiration for the infernal architectures affinity for curling and twisting like the innards of a sacrificed animal in ways that brought echos of ones own footsteps snaking back behind them, and sometimes even allowing the group to catch sight of themselves, hazy and dripping with sweat, running far ahead. The door, when it appeared, was both jarring and welcome, utterly out of place and remarkably real for the undulating scarlet wall it was set in. It must have opened or vanished, for though no one made a move towards it, all suddenly found themselves in a confined circular room, with a guardrail running around the outside, making sure that the unassuming tourist would not venture into the center of the room, which was utterly unremarkable but for the titan that crouched in the center, hunched and weary, resting a head that is composed wholly of a cluster of milky white eyes. The arms are surprisingly small for the giants girth, but what it lacks in muscle mass it makes up for in the sheer number of arms that protrude every which way from the shoulders, forming a massive net of biceps growing from elbows, hands with more hands on each finger, arms lined with more arms.
The lady devil who led you here swings a knee high gate open and hands Will a ticket. "Just feed it to him" she says. "And don't worry about his feelings, he won't talk back after we cut out his mouth". The thing quivers at that, and drums its thousands of hands on its knees. It smells of ozone and goblin, an acrid, sweaty smell with a certain instability around it, as if the very stench could loosen your senses.

[Archmage1]

Violet looks around the room, continuing to feel rather disgusted by this, but when she spots the Titan... thing, she flies up to it, her eyes wide with wonder.
"Hi! You're really, really, really big!"

[Gaius]

Will absently nods and accepts on receipt of the ticket. Like Violet, he's fighting off the veil of sheer unpleasantness all around. He seriously wonders if the heart of the funk in this noxious place might actually be the colossus before them. Shortly before it occurs to him that he'll need to get very close to the thing if he's to feed it the ticket. He groans.

Will, deciding making someone else unhappy will cheer him up, thrusts the book at Bartholomew. "Alright, 'Mr. Genius.' I'm takin' care of this, so you're on storytime duty with Limey here." He turns his head to the Cube. "Limey, ask any and every question that strikes you, and Barty'll be happy to go into exacting detail. Have fun!"

Disposition mildly improved, the brawler begins tromping toward the living vortex of stench in front of them. He notes Violet has already engaged it in her trademark irrepressible cheeriness. Will figures he can mooch some of that, and so murmurs to himself as he goes. "It's bad, but ain't that bad. Just be glad you ditched the werewolf thing. I mean, this, with a sensitive nose?" He shudders. "Don't even wanna think about it."

Unsure what to do when he gets there, other than hold his nose away, Will thrusts the ticket up at it. "Uh. I guess sup's on, big guy. And... Sorry to hear about that mouth thing?"

[alanek2002]

Hedratis turns to the new holder of the book, and rises a bit while tilting forward, to Loom better.

"Cough."