S64: How To Kill A Gift Horse

A small demon paces back and forth beside the ancient ruins of a mirror portal. He is not very happy. Nom, our resident klepto, decided to steal and mistakenly destroy, one of his extremely hard-to-come-by (especially while trapped in a mirror realm) soul coins (a point which Kloci had made abundantly clear) was the best course of action. Then he stops. His facial expression changes from one of anger to one of confusion then to submission. “Who is… oh… yes… yes… of course… sorry, yes… really… why… of course… yes, thank you… very much… very much indeed… thank y… and he’s gone.” Kloci looks back to the group, a wide smile grows even wider across his face. “Feel free to use the mirror portal as you would like.” The group is concerned with Kloci’s emotional shift and begins to ask questions. “Let’s just say that I have been promoted… and…” Kloci is engulfed in a hellish fire. “You will now see my true form. A form of power and strength.” His eyes grow wide as a maniacal laugh pours from his smiling mouth. The group begins to back away in anticipation. They watch as Kloci… grows… maybe… possibly an inch, maybe two… it’s really hard to say in this light. The hellfire subsides. “Yes, yes, fear me. Feel my true form.” Another high-pitched (less maniacal somehow… may be seeing the end result of his “evolution”) laugh flows from his mouth until it trails off due to lack of air in Kloci’s lungs. The group is not impressed. Still, Krom is not one to let the small gains go unnoticed as he brobonds with the slightly less scrawny demon.

Then a gravelly voice is heard by all, emanating from within Nom herself.

“Half breed. I could have made you great.” The group watches as Nom's body transforms once again into a mighty have orc.

“I could have made you unrivaled.” Nom’s body grows even larger and stronger than she was before. Her muscles stretch and bulge. 

“You could have been so much more.” Nom’s body is at peak half-orc perfection. A true sight to behold.

“You overestimate your value. You have defied me for the last time. An example will be made!” The voice booms in Nom’s head.

“You will learn to obey.” Hundreds of small Golden ethereal chains explode outward from Nom's body. The ends of the chains hover in midair for a moment before attaching to Kloci. The small demon wrings his hands together. A look of pure evil joy on his face.

“You will have no material possessions.” Nom feels the leather straps to her satchels and armor loosen as they fall to the ground. Swords and weapons follow suit. Her metallic gauntlet clangs to the rocks below revealing a blunt forearm where her hand once lived. All material possessions fall from Nom's body leaving her with nothing except the most basic of undergarments.

“You will be insignificant.” The group watches Nom's mighty body begins to wither and atrophy as if her insides are being condensed or removed. Her skin begins to wrinkle and pucker as it slouches toward the ground. Nom is in exquisite and unimaginable pain. Nom continues to wither until only a pile of green skin remains.

All look toward Kloci. They begin assaulting him with question after question. “Look, I don’t make the rules. All I’m saying is that she’s getting what she deserves. She thought she could go against a devil? I mean, how stupid can you be? A devil?! I was approached with an opportunity. And here we are.”

The group refocuses on what is left of Nom -- a pile of wrinkled empty skin. Or is it? Krom notices something move from the middle of the pile. He pokes at the bulge. The bulge stops moving, and then begins to move once more. Curiosity gets the best of him (as it does with most cats). Krom begins to squeeze different sections of Nom’s thin rind pushing the mass first toward the foot, then realizing there is no exit hold, toward Nom’s missing hand. Although there is no blood, the noises are not pleasant. Krom realizes too late that the missing hand stump had healed long ago… there was no exit for whatever is moving within Nom’s hide. Dorus has an idea. Why not try the mouth? He begins to squeeze and squish Nom's empty boneless body. Until he reaches her mouth. A black eye looks back at him. Blinking wildly. The eye is attached to a glistening pink blob of flesh. It is too big to exit through the mouth. With a flick of a blade, Krom creates an exit on Nom’s nubbed arm. Back down it is squeezed until a rotund ball of mucus and flesh is birthed from the nub of Nom’s missing hand. The creature quickly rights itself, turns, and looks toward the group. Kloci laughs. The SOG feel unsettled and slightly ill. Is this what has become of Nom? Perhaps, but, more importantly, who knows when or if there might be a need for an entire pristine hide of a large half-orce. Krom and Dorus take time to gently roll Nom’s carcass much like you would a moist bedroll. 

The voice once again booms. “You will be insatiable.” The sound of a starving empty stomach gurgles from the pink blob. Krom throws down a small piece of venison. It is rejected by the small disgusting, but somehow adorable creature. With hope that he is wrong, Krom then tosses down a single gold coin. The creature's eyes grow wide as it pounces and ingests the coin and almost instantly expels a worthless piece of metal. Yep, this is Nom. 

The group turns to Kloci for answers once more. “Hey, this is how it works. All of us start out like this. We drag our sorry asses from the river Styx as nothing. We evolve as we go. It took many years of just existing. Eventually, I could be of servitude to those better than me. Now look at me. Peak of perfection.” Kloci flexes his almost non-existent sinewy muscles. Krom appreciates the effort repaying it with a high-five.

In true SOG fashion (at least for a couple members of the group) there is little concern for Nom. She got what she deserved or whatever. But her possessions. That is where some time should be spent. They begin to divvy up her belongings while trying desperately to keep Nom from trying to eat their supply of valuables. Nom’s new “body” is really fast… and quite sneaky -- this will be interesting. Also, it appears Nom has no way to speak. She just wildly gestures as her body constantly changes shape. Kloci approaches and grabs Nom. “Check this out.” He begins to rip Nom's body into small pieces, tossing them to the ground. Nom’s body is wracked with pain. The group stares at Kloci with disbelief. “Don’t worry. Watch.” Nom’s pieces begin to worm and squiggle toward one another. The pieces then begin to meld into one another until Nom’s form is whole once more. She looks a little different, but alive and “well” nevertheless. 

Nom begins to test the limitations of her new body, mostly by harassing Mokon who is clearly annoyed, but in true Mokon fashion just lets Nom do what she is going to do. The only time he really shows too much concern is when Nom spreads her body thin and tries to smother him. Breathing is important… even to Mokon. Eventually, Nom rests happily on the helm of Mokon. Mokon wonders why his helm feels so top-heavy.

Alora has major concerns and trust issues when it comes to Malaak. Dorus wants to test the new soul collector on Huther to see what sort of effect it has before approaching Torin. They decide to head back to Huther’s.

Kloci lets the group know that he can and will be watching. With the help of Zola and Dorus’ mind a mirror portal is opened once more to the tower dungeon in the Shadowfell -- Huther’s last location. The party passes through the portal.

Everything seems the same except Luscious’ body has begun to deteriorate further. Nom skitters from Mokon quickly searching Luscious’ remains for anything of value, finding nothing she quickly realizes she can sense coins, gems, or anything of value innately. As if a pink ball of lightning she rushes off darting from room to room. The group hears a series of guttural eating noises and the distant clink of small scraps of metal.

Time to visit Huther. The group makes their way upward toward Huther’s lab on the fourth level. As they round floor three they hear a pattering of small feet. This is not Nom as she is once again resting on Mokon’s head. (How does she keep getting up there?) The pattering gets closer until a small form rushes by the group… too fast to identify. They continue upward until they hear the unique voice of Huther Linds. “Where are you little one? Come see your daddy. Come out come out. You are such a little devil.” Making their way to the fourth floor they see Huther lifting boxes, moving tables, shifting vials as if in search of something. “Where are you? Oh, hey guys. How are things? So have you seen my baby boy anywhere… it is quite the handful. Daddy is trying to find you. Where are…” Just then a small childs (yes plural) rushes out from beneath a box close to Dorus. This child has three legs, four eyes, a wide mouth that spans two heads that are partially conjoined, a real treat for the eyes. It jumps toward Huther. Huther’s tendrils wrap around the toddler who begins to coo in his arms. “There you are, you little bugger. You are such a naughty little boys. “ (Yes plural again.) “Oh hey Dorus, so I think I figured out how to get that whole vampire issue to go away from you. Did some experimenting and boom, figured it out. Also, remember that whole plaque that passed through Therack a while back… shadowfever… or whatever it was called, I think I figured out a vaccine in case it ever showed up again. What are you guys doing back here? Have you met my son yet? Yeah, those two kids kinda got crammed into one, but they are much healthier… if not a bit on the homely side.” 

Dorus is focused on the task at hand. With minimal small talk and taking advantage of his so-called friendship with Huther goes in for a hug. More accurately, pretends to go in for a hug to touch his necklace-mounted soul collector to Huther to see what happens. Huther, unsuspecting, is eager to hug his best friend. (Huther hasn’t had many friends in the past due to his weird personality and the whole disregard for human life thing he had going on.) The pendant brushes against Huther. “Hey, oh, ummm. Buddy, I’m not feeling so great. I um… just gonna lie down for a minute. Did you do something to me?” Huther’s body slowly droops to the floor lifeless. A bit of joy pulses through Alora’s heart. The small deformed child begins to pull at Huther’s unmoving body and then begins to cry. Dorus looks down at his pendant. The orange segment is brightly lit.

The outcome from touching the soul collector to someone who has a piece of Adeline’s soul seems to be VERY absolute. Dorus begins to feel guilty. With divine magic (and against Alora’s wishes) he tries to revive Huther. Dorus produces a large diamond as a green and gold glow emanates from his body. Huther remains motionless as the spell fails. Dorus then wonders what would happen if the soul collector was touched to Huther once more?  Would he be revived? Alora offers herself as a test to see if a soul can be transferred to another person. The consensus from the group is that it would be a horrible idea. Dorus reaches out with the pendent toward Huther. Huther gasps as his body twitches back to life. “Oh wow, that was pretty crazy, what did you do to old Huther?” Dorus explains. “Oh, yeah, pretty good experiment. I would have done the same thing. Nice on you.” Huther stands up retrieving his crying son from the floor. “It’s ok. Daddy is ok.” He pats the grotesque child on the back with one tendril as another wipes the tears from its eyes. 

Mokon, remembering his brother was flushed from a vat the last time they were here, begins to look for an answer to where his brother could be. He notices a large tube running out through the wall. He runs upstairs and sees the tube empties into the surrounding lake. There are no signs of his brother. He informs the group although they seem too preoccupied with next steps to show interest. Except Krom who instantly runs to the window and yells for Mokon’s brother (using those words exactly). He noticed the edge of the lake forest begins to stir with tall, thin, flesh-colored clawed creatures. The group knows they need to move -- and quickly. 

Where is the closest mirror? Going downward could be an issue as they can hear hordes of Shadowfell creatures nearing the tower. “There is a mirror up those stairs. Right at the top.” (Huther is already familiar with mirror travel as he had done it many times in the past.)

Dorus takes a moment to convince Huther that it would be a very educational experience to come back with them. Huther, excited for the opportunity, accepts Dorus’ proposal with the caveat that he would need to take many of his items along as he did not want to lose all his research. Huther needs a satchel. Mokon, has a brilliant idea offering Nom’s remains. Without hesitation, Huther grabs the Nomroll and with a flick of his tendrils unrolls. Noticing there is not a large enough opening in this strangely shaped satchel he grabs the top and bottom jaw of Nom’s mouth and pulls. With a wet grisly rip, a larger opening is created. Tendrils fly as Huther begins to shove books, vials, scrolls, gems, and anything else he deems needed into Nom’s husk through the toothy opening. It takes only a few moments to fill the skin completely. Jagged books corners and vials jut out sporadically almost with enough force to tear the half-orc skin. Luckily, half-orc skin is notoriously thick and malleable. Huther tosses a full-to-the-brim orc-sac over his shoulder, ready to go.

Huther heads up the stairs toward the closest mirror. The group follows. Krom touches the mirror shard to the reflective surface. The SOG enter the mirror once more this time joined by Huther and his adopted child.

Kloci stands in front of the gigantic ancient mirror gate. The mirror reflects no other portals this time, it only reflects a larger-than-life copy of Kloci. Kloci flexes and puffs his chest, very impressed with his barely evolved form. Krom approaches Kloci, startling him slightly, letting him know that he is looking very impressive. Kloci blushes slightly agreeing with Knom’s assessment. Kloci then notices Huther and points. “What is that?” Huther responds, “Hey Kloci, how have you been my friend? It has been a while.” “Huther, is that you? What happened?” “Oh yeah, experiments and whatnot… pretty cool huh?” Kloci and Huther get lost in conversation.

Alora is insistent Malaak is bad news and wants nothing to do with her, but is also concerned about leaving a murderer like Huther with Milbin, Jeb, Torin, and others who are good people. After some deliberation and disagreement. The group decides to bring Huther back to Milbin and Jeb.

Unfortunately, there is no mirror to travel to Milbin’s. 

Time to call Jeb. Now, Jeb is from a simpler time. He isn’t really caught up on the newest magical technologies. Sending stones have always been a bit of a mystery for Jeb, but he does his best and after some extremely confusing banter between Alora, Jeb, Torin, Dorus, and Euk a very interesting decision is made. In lieu of having any semblance of a mirror handy (and the inability for Jeb or Torin to gain Milbin’s full attention for help) the group, with Jeb’s guidance, have decided to use a large cauldron filled with donkey pee as a means of travel. Reflective (in certain lights) and flat (given enough time without movement) equine urine is the means of party travel decided upon. Just to be clear, the group decided there couldn’t possibly be ANY other means of travel… just a pot of piss. 

Since a cauldron has a limited circumference they need to be careful. Dorus, Krom, Mokon, and Huther. Alora looks at Huther and without a second thought transforms him into a small fluffy sheep. Not only will he easily fit through a cauldron opening, but he will be far less dangerous in sheep form. 

Kloci works his magic once more piercing Dorus' brain with a psychic demonic lance. Dorus focuses on Milbin’s lab and soon has a perfect view of a yellow-hued stone ceiling. Yep, that is the golden glow of urine. With a sheep-shaped Huther in one arm and a two-child-abomination in the other Alora is the first to go through -- mouth agape. Alora is blasted upwards in a shower of very concentrated donkey urine. She slides across the ground. A yellow sopping-wet sheep lays across her midsection. A laughing child-melt gets to its feet close by. Krom’s feline flexibility lets him work his way through the cauldron opening with little effort. Dorus, knowing he cannot fit his loxodon size through such a small opening effortlessly changes into a winged snake piercing the veil like an arrow. The liquid surface barely reacting to his entry. Mokon and Nom, that takes a bit more time. Mokon’s large armored stature scrapes metal on metal as he forces his way through the cauldron's opening.

“What to the hells is going on?” Milbin clearly was not fully informed or was not paying attention when he was informed. The smell of urine hangs thick in the air. “What is that smell?” Jeb helps the group by magically removing the urine from their clothes and orifices. Except for Mokon, Mokon is good as is.

The group begins to discuss the power of Adeline’s soul pieces and Alora’s concern for Huther. Milbin still believes with enough souls he could in fact send the group back in time. “In theory this is possible. I’m sure I can figure it out. I am very intelligent after all.” “And don’t worry about Huther, Jeba and I can take care of him if he becomes a problem.” 

Milbin wanders off, back to whatever Milbin does. The party decides the next course of action should be to visit this weird sky funnel. (Krom takes a moment to run outside to verify the funnel is still active. It is.) They also decide to make the trek on foot instead of retrieving their gas balloon near Malaak’s.

Milbin had just seen these people only a few hours ago and he is not ready to have them visit again so soon, especially with all the yapping. Actually, anybody visiting is a huge inconvenience and he would really prefer to be left alone. “Alright, are you all set? Please leave. Now, please. Please leave.  Shooshooshoo.”

Feeling the need to move quickly (and adhering to their host's wishes) the group leaves. They will make camp in a few hours. The night is brightly lit by the moon as a light purple sky fades to a much darker purple funnel that twists toward the ground. That is their destination.

Alora takes a moment to create a magic hut. As she does a distant abrasive horn sounds. Dorus and Mokon seem unaffected, but the others begin to writhe in pain, they feel chaos and hunger begin to take over. Yeenoghu’s horn. Mokon tries to heal those being affected, but this is no disease. Dorus jumps into action trying to drown out the noise with one of his own -- the sound of pleasure. It works. As moans explode from Dorus (as they have many times before) the pangs of hunger and chaos subside in Krom, Alora, and a fleshy Nom. This is not good. What is next?

Alora finishes the spell creating a small hut. She and Krom spend the next hour creating earplugs out of wax and cloth to hopefully help with the hellish horn blast -- one pair for each member of their party. Dorus prays to Eldath, Mokon cleans the urine from his intricate armor. And Nom, well, Nom is bagged tightly in a burlap sack and hung from the center of the room. Safely away from the group's previous gold and gems. Nom spends her night trying to perfect her shapeshifting ability. Her stomach growls loudly.