1: All ye who enter here.   Posted by Dungeon Master.Group: 0
Uhn'vuh
 NPC, 4 posts
 I have no mouth
 and I must scream
Sun 11 Mar 2018
at 20:25
1: All ye who enter here
Following at the back of the group, lost in maudlin thought, the devil with the stitched face snaps to attention when he registers the presence of the villagers.

It lets out a low grunt, almost a growl, at the vacant-looking, misshapen wretches and their leader. It clearly holds them in contempt, and yet they have the advantage in both numbers and arms... for now.

The thing positions itself to one side of the group, flanking the Don, and watching carefully for trouble.
The Don
 player, 5 posts
 Do you know who I am?
 I'm The Don baby!
Sun 11 Mar 2018
at 22:26
1: All ye who enter here
The Don continues to stride towards the settlement undeterred by their armaments and animosity. He carries himself confidently, threateningly even, prepared to see how this new brawny body complements his abrasive personality.

Good Mornin’ Cretins,” he bellows down the crude excuse for a road. “No need to get stupid. We want some clothes and stuff. That's all. So once you’ve given em to us, we can get out of your disgusting hovel.

As he continues to advance, The Don doesn’t break eye contact with the leering devilkin leader. He stares him down and opens his mouth to bare another sharp toothed grin. If he wants a fight, The Don is more than ready for a fight, his confidence spurred on by the staple-faced devil to his right.

(OOC: The Don will attempt to intimidate the group.)
Dungeon Master
 GM, 8 posts
 This is Hell
 Nor am I out of it
Mon 12 Mar 2018
at 20:42
1: All ye who enter here


The leader of these damned, wretched souls has clearly seen worse things during his time in Hell than four naked guys and a big bat. He is unswayed by this splurge of testosterone.

Nevertheless, he remains calm.

'Mind your tongue out here,'
he shouts, 'not all are benevolent as Ördög. If it's supplies you need, we can work something out. But bring trouble on my village and I'll spill you across the sand myself.'

To emphasise his point, he holds his hand aloft and a burst of light flares from his palm, making the devilkin near him cower in animal terror.
Nigel Snodgrass
 player, 5 posts
Mon 12 Mar 2018
at 21:19
1: All ye who enter here

Still dazed and confused from whatever the snub nosed demon had done, the fog was briefly lifted...

Nigel stared vacantly at Ordog for a solid minute.

"What you got then?" Nigel flashed the shiny gems he clutched in his hands, another parting gift from the snub nosed demon.

"trousers?"
Dungeon Master
 GM, 9 posts
 This is Hell
 Nor am I out of it
Tue 13 Mar 2018
at 19:12
1: All ye who enter here
Ördög remains silent for a moment as Nigel speaks, weighing up the afflicted spawn's glazed expression.

Devils don't feel pity, but a look of contempt and opportunism crosses his face, producing the same result.

He motions to one of his minions, who scurries into a hut, returning a moment later with a big bundle of material.

It scurries up to your group, tosses it at your feet, and backs away slowly, resuming position.

The bundle is, in fact, a collection of worn and tattered clothing. All of it is leather, and it's best not to speculate where the leather came from. One boot bears a striking resemblance to Todd's hide.

Gain: Two suits of padded armour
One suit of leather armour
One suit of studded leather armour
Clothing equivalent to five peasant's outfits


'You must be hungry, too. You've never eaten before.'

This message was last edited by the GM at 19:12, Tue 13 Mar 2018.

Suspenderman
 player, 5 posts
 He played the 2c show
Sun 18 Mar 2018
at 14:23
1: All ye who enter here
Rifling through the rags, the slender hellbred shakes his head.

"Hell be cruel in slight and subtle ways." he bemoans, before picking out some clothes and the leather armour. None of it fit properly, the armour was fine, he was very tall so it could hang on his frame with relative ease, but his minuscule waistline made the daintiest of courtesans look corpulent by comparison. As a result none of the trousers were going to sit anywhere but around his ankles without assistance. He eyes up his comrades, gauging their measurements and concludes that his need for pantaloon support was greatest and so takes a second belt. The Don wasn't going to go without despite being the least in need, and the Bat likely needed all the help he could get to make humanoid garb fit his animal body, thus leaving an old man who thus far had proven quite timid and a creature who was literally incapable of arguing with him due to having his mouth sewn shut. He took the belts, affixed them to his trousers front and back and looped them over his shoulders to form an adequate pair of suspenders. Clearly not quite satisfied, he ponders his attire a moment, humming a catchy tune as he thinks. The hums turn to murmurs, and then into mutterings, his voice slowly rising as he formulates the lyrics:

"One moonlight night in the bayou a silhouette
The air was sweet and the fog was vi-o-let
The gators were all drinking tea, in a dreamy pantsless glee
I saw a suspendered man, a banjo holstered in his hands.
He had biggest red suspenders I ever did see, golly gee that's what I've seen
He flicked the brim of his hat, and this is what he said to me..."


He clicked his fingers in time to the beat of his tune, and as he sang his words inspired his form. His clothes seemed to magically clean themselves, purged of the sweat and grime of their previous infernal owners. The shirt became a pristine white, the trousers jet black and the leather belts turned a vibrant red. His clothing and armour tightened to cling his slender frame, the leather hauberk now functionally a waistcoat and the leather skullcap widening into a stetson. Lastly the stringed instrument of his verse materialised in his hands, to say everything else looked like it was ... well a dinner suit made from leather, the banjo was far from a pauper's instrument. Exquisitely polished darkwood neck, ivory tuning pegs and strings that glisten in the sun of the Hellish desert.

"Mister Deh-vul ah am The Suspender Man
And dis banjo 'as shown me dah promised land.
Now ah play a song but in return, yoo put dat shiny coin right 'ere in mah urn.
And ah play yoo sumfin fine. Mah music gonna blow yo mind!"



Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Cast prestidigitation to clean, recolour and reshape my clothing and Summon Instrument to play some funky toons.

This message was last edited by the player at 14:23, Sun 18 Mar 2018.

The Don
 player, 6 posts
 Do you know who I am?
 I'm The Don baby!
Mon 19 Mar 2018
at 22:52
1: All ye who enter here
Hell was not turning out to be everything The Don had hoped. So far his ego had been bruised twice by the denizens of this forsaken place; two times too many for such a splendidly self-centred embodiment of pride. The Don had a point to prove and needed to find an opportunity soon.

The suit of studded leather had previously belonged to an entity of similar stature to The Don but one that was more practical or modest than he. The Don tares the sleeves from the jacket - why hide such wonderful guns! - and tosses them to the elderly man as a substitute for the pilfered belt. The leather leggings burst at the seams as The Don forces his muscular legs through them, leaving them torn and tattered. He sees little purpose in the helmet - I can't cover up this groovy new hair! - opting instead to shove it down his crotch - to accentuate my best features. Although he could not see his reflection, he already knew he looked bold and brash... of course he did!

Turning back to the crowd, he smiles his smarmy, sharp smile at the devilkin chief. "Sure O-dog; I could eat."
Uhn'vuh
 NPC, 5 posts
 I have no mouth
 and I must scream
Tue 20 Mar 2018
at 18:54
1: All ye who enter here
The sewn-up creature selects, without particular enthusiasm, some loose rags which drape low across his famished frame, along with one of the padded armours, a vest which almost covers most of his abdomen.

He seems, for obvious reasons, ambivalent towards the idea of food. However, he does seem to be satisfied that the fiends of the village pose no immediate threat of violence.

He sets off to clear the last of the distance between the two groups, the tension in the air dispelled... for now.
Dungeon Master
 GM, 10 posts
 This is Hell
 Nor am I out of it
Thu 22 Mar 2018
at 17:15
1: All ye who enter here
Ordog turns and leads the way into the broadest and most secure-looking of the cavern/huts, but not before snapping his fingers at a minion who had become entranced by Suspenderman's song. The minion, along with his ilk, slinks back into his huts as, off in the distance, the sky spews forth another fireball.

The hut is low, broad, and it stinks. A sickly, oily scent pours from a cooking pot in the far corner, flagrantly abusing the structure's lack of ventilation.

At a long table, enough to sit the population of the village and a few more, sits another devilkin. This one has the same glimmer of intelligence you see in Ordog, but is every so slightly worse dressed and with pinched, sour-looking features which contrast with the leader's broad, flat face.

'Haraj!' snaps Ordog, 'food for five!'

'Five?!' the subordinate replies, looking up from a tattered book, 'from the spire?'

'Five from the spire. Either we are being cruelly mocked, or our troubles might be eased.'

The fiend named as Haraj stands and produces five crude stone bowls from the cooking station, filling them with a foul stew of grubs and maggots, sliding them down the table towards you each.

He resumes his seat, but not his reading. Instead, he scrutinises you each in turn. You get the impression you've stumbled upon the brains of the operation.

'You poor rejects must have questions. Hell knows we did when we stumbled out of that damn factory.'
Todd
 player, 4 posts
Fri 23 Mar 2018
at 14:04
1: All ye who enter here
Todd cares little for clothing or social niceties (although he does grab some scraps of clothing to keep the sun of his sensitive bits) as it swoops lazily above the group. Look at these casuals, walking with their legs. Bunch of sandgropers.

The winged creature hovers over the huts, until the telltale sound of food arises. In one motion, it dives down into the hut before righting to land, not before grabbing a bowl on the way past, it's the most effort anyone has seen Todd put into anything thus far, but it does make for an elegant, fluid motion. Content, Todd plonks himself down on a chair and begins to scarf the tasty snack down.

'I gotta tell ya Haraj, this grub looks absolutely ripper!' the bat cheerfully exclaims, seeming to be genuinely congratulating the creature.

'Got any Amber Nectar?'

This message was last edited by the player at 09:26, Thu 29 Mar 2018.

Dungeon Master
 GM, 11 posts
 This is Hell
 Nor am I out of it
Sat 24 Mar 2018
at 22:06
1: All ye who enter here
Haraj's brow wrinkles at the man-bat's request.

'Amber... nectar? If you mean alcohol, you're in the wrong corner of Hell. We had a lost trader from the City of Dis pass through with a bottle of Nessian wine, oh, maybe five hundred years ago? Ordog drank it.'


'As is my right as elected Mayor.'

Haraj scowls. It doesn't take a genius, or even a sense motive roll, to work out you've found a sore spot.

'As is, of course, your right as Mayor.'
Uhn'vuh
 NPC, 6 posts
 I have no mouth
 and I must scream
Sun 25 Mar 2018
at 01:35
1: All ye who enter here
The scrawny one declines to even reach for a bowl of the grubby grub. In fact, his manner stiffens noticeably at the lack of consideration from this total stranger.

This guy has a serious chip on his shoulder.

Finally, he takes a seat, cross-armed at the far end of the table to everyone else. His frustration at being unable to engage is becoming more evident by the moment.
The Don
 player, 7 posts
 Do you know who I am?
 I'm The Don baby!
Sun 25 Mar 2018
at 08:32
1: All ye who enter here
I got your back Screamy,” The Don says with a wink, sliding Uhn’vuh’s bowl over to himself.

Sensing the tension in the room, The Don begins to poke the bear. “So you're Mayor eh? What made you so electable? You don’t seem like the charming type of guy – not like yours truly – and I’m pretty sure I could take you in a fight, so the other guys must be weedy pushovers to let you boss them around.

The Don’s ego may have been bruised but it had not been defeated. If his pride was hurting, no need for everyone else’s to be so secure.
Dungeon Master
 GM, 12 posts
 This is Hell
 Nor am I out of it
Mon 26 Mar 2018
at 14:47
1: All ye who enter here
The devils of the village clearly don't know quite how to take the Don's impenetrable exuberance.

Haraj seems to be dealing with it better, perhaps because he's more used to playing second fiddle. He cuts to the meat of the Don's question, and launches into what is clearly an oft-repeated story.

'So, Ordog and myself were the first ones the spire spawned wrong. There might have been others before us, but they didn't settle here. We did. Over the millennia, more came down in ones and twos.'

'And we offer them shelter and protection,' Ordog interjects. It's kindly talk, but you've already seen what his 'protection' entails: total subservience.

'Yes. Well. Once the village got to a certain size, we decided we needed a recognised leader, so we held an election. Ordog won by one vote. That was about six thousand years ago. In hindsight, we should have talked about term limits.'

'But we did not, so here we are. We are the Rabble of Devilkin, and there are none lower in Hell,' the sword-armed devil finishes, with a note of pride at the distinction.

Haraj's expression could not make it clearer that he resents his situation, and having to relive the mistakes which brought him here. Before he can say anything, however, his glorious leader pipes up.

'So. Now you know who we are, and you have accepted both the clothes on your back, and our hospitality. How do you feel about repaying our kindness?'

His voice carries an odd, solemn tone. The possibility of your choosing not to repay his kindness doesn't appear to feature in his long-term plans.
Suspenderman
 player, 6 posts
 He played the 2c show
Tue 27 Mar 2018
at 11:03
1: All ye who enter here
"And what might a right honourable gentleman, such as yourself, demand from a rabble-dabble band o' newly-spawned devilkin, such as ourselves?" The Suspenderman chimes, "You, above all, know the constraints of our present happenstance. Our only hell-ly possessions are what you have gifted us, save that t'is but our talents we have to barter." He twangs an intricate, widdly tune on his banjo to punctuate his point.
Dungeon Master
 GM, 13 posts
 This is Hell
 Nor am I out of it
Wed 28 Mar 2018
at 10:00
1: All ye who enter here
Ordog is only too happy to divert his attention from the Don, and towards the melodic tones of Suspenderman as he breaches the question left hanging in the air.

'Yes. Well it's those talents which I have use of. Most of the rejects from the spire... you've seen them and, well...'

'They're cretins,' Haraj helpfully interjects. 'Most of them are dribbling, elbow-slapping retards and we can barely trust them with the simplest of tasks. I'd compare them to lemures, but lemures make better cannon fodder.'

'Yes. Quite. We sent three of them out to fish for grubs downriver, a task which should have taken a morning. They have been gone for three days. If they are lost, I ask you bring them back here. If they are dead, I need to know what might be interfering with our food supply.

We have weapons, some of which you can have and some you can buy from our stores. Do this for me, and you will have safe harbour in Hell, from now until the end of all things.'

Nigel Snodgrass
 player, 6 posts
Wed 28 Mar 2018
at 14:46
1: All ye who enter here

Thrilled with his new padded trousers, stomach full of the hell-gruel they were served, Nigel was almost in a good mood.

However, the fog of whatever witch craft that snub nosed demon cursed him with, still clouded his judgement. Thoughts were hard to form, connections were slow.

But he heard the word "stores".

"where stores?"

He wondered over towards what he thought was a store.

"Oooooh Bar'Qah!" Nigel started to chant under his breath. Finally, a chance of worship.
The Don
 player, 8 posts
 Do you know who I am?
 I'm The Don baby!
Wed 28 Mar 2018
at 20:30
1: All ye who enter here
Armed only with a refilled bowl of gruel in each hand, The Don heads for the door. “Sure thing Doggo,” he mumbles through a mouthful, “consider it done. And when I get back, we can discuss who is harbouring what for who, if you know what I mean.

Outside the crude structure The Don downs the remains of his gluttonous meal, before tossing the bowls directly at one of the deranged cretins. Amused, he makes his way to the riverside and stares in both directions.

Which way to go? he thinks. Wracking his minute brain for a moment, The Don realises he came from upstream so he ought to head downstream. Smartest man ever to die, he congratulates himself. Never mind the others, I’ll have this problem sorted in no time at all.

And with that he begins striding down the banks of the river. Smartest man to die? No. Smartest man to die with his head down a toilet? Closer.
Dungeon Master
 GM, 14 posts
 This is Hell
 Nor am I out of it
Wed 28 Mar 2018
at 20:54
1: All ye who enter here
Haraj stares at Nigel for a moment, slack-jawed at the seemingly random noises the little man is making.

'Uhh... over here, brighteyes. I'm on quartermaster duty. As well.'


Rising, he approaches a stack of dusty crates in the far corner of the chamber. Opening the top one, he extracts a roll of weapons, which he tosses onto the table in front of you all.

'These you can have.' Within the roll are a collection of the most pathetic-looking tools of death you could possibly imagine.

Gain: One dagger (a stone kitchen knife)
One quarterstaff (a big stick)
Three clubs (slightly smaller sticks)


The remaining contents of the crate are for sale. Right now, only the befuddled Nigel has coin, although his commercial acumen seems intuitive enough not to be harmed by the curse laid upon him. If anything, Haraj appears to be underestimating his ability to conduct business.

Ordog, seeing his leadership is no longer required, swoops out of the hut and leaves you to equip for the road ahead.

This message was last edited by the GM at 21:01, Wed 28 Mar 2018.

Uhn'vuh
 NPC, 7 posts
 I have no mouth
 and I must scream
Wed 28 Mar 2018
at 21:08
1: All ye who enter here
The wretched one watches as the Don strides out of the hut, his eyes locked on his fleeing back, clearly resenting every ounce of the devil's impenetrable confidence.

Slowly, he rises and swipes a club from the table, eyeing the simple weapon with equal disdain and disgust.

The whole situation seems utterly beneath him, despite his pitiable position. And yet... what other option was there, really?

He gives a sound, which despite its unintelligible nature carries serious overtones of melancholy. Then, sighing, he troops off after the Don.
Nigel Snodgrass
 player, 7 posts
Wed 28 Mar 2018
at 21:25
1: All ye who enter here
Spinning on his heel, Nigel wondered towards the crate of weapons.

Perusing the hellish weaponry, which has been so artfully dumped in the crate, his eye catches something slightly more shiny than the rest. Snodgrass, his merchant senses tingling, plunges his hand...very carefully into the crate of weapons.

"aah haa!" Nigel exclaimed, holding aloft an iron morning star he had so majestically dug out, only cutting himself a bit.  The weapon itself, had seen better millennia, but for an eternity in hell, It was looking good. It was the Mickey Rourke of morning stars. Whoever that was.

His free hand delved into his newly acquired pocket,pulling out the exact amount his strict capitalist faith would allow (8 soul pieces), and hurled them at Haraj.

"Bar'Qah be praised!" he screamed.

"to...the river now?" he had settled down, following the Don out of the hut.

Commerce was the highest form of worship. He was ready to find his god.

This message was last edited by the player at 21:29, Wed 28 Mar 2018.

Todd
 player, 5 posts
Thu 29 Mar 2018
at 09:22
1: All ye who enter here
Todd views the departing souls with a deep sense of obvious apathy, before turning to Haraj and Suspenderman and giving them a well practiced shrug. It's a weird motion, vaguely favouring one shoulder more than the other, but it somehow looks by far the most natural thing Todd has done to date. It decides that trying to make nice with Haraj can't hurt much.

'Sorry about yer situation, mate. If it's any consolation, I'd say yer buddy Ordog's gonna come a gutser pretty soon, what with the red idiot about an' all. Something to look forward to, eh?'

It gives the brains a cheerful smile, while picking up a the dagger from the table - it's the only thing Todd really has much chance of being able to carry - and proffering a bowl to Haraj.

'Any chance I can get another slop of tucker for the road?'

This message was last edited by the player at 09:24, Thu 29 Mar 2018.

Dungeon Master
 GM, 15 posts
 This is Hell
 Nor am I out of it
Thu 29 Mar 2018
at 17:51
1: All ye who enter here



Haraj's face splits into a wide grin that looks seriously out of place against his pinched features.

'Bonza, mate,' he chuckles as he fills another bowl of grub for Todd.
Suspenderman
 player, 7 posts
 He played the 2c show
Sun 1 Apr 2018
at 00:10
1: All ye who enter here
The Suspenderman runs a cursory glance over the weaponry provided. He finds it lacking, but then again a perfectly serviceable sword or axe would likely have garnered similar scorn from the devilkin if it did not match up to his stylistic standards. He takes ones of the 'clubs' as it was less unwieldy cumbersome than the 'staff'. If it came to him needing to use it, then the length of the stick was not going to factor much into his odds for survival anyway so when faced with two equally ugly looking objects, the smaller one is at least 'less ugly' to be carrying around. Who knows, maybe at a later time he can work similar magic to what formed his suit and make himself a dapper cane, but for now it would have to do.

He keenly observes the dealings taking place between Nigel and Haraj. Interesting that although the coins be different, the exchange is the same. Something burns within the Suspender man, when Nigel had first gotten the soulpieces they meant nothing but now they were shown to have some monetary value (or Hell's equivalent thereof) he NEEDED to have them. No-one seeking fortune and fame was content with just the fame.

Despite his abject poverty, the slender and dapper Devilkin smiled a wicked, toothy smile. He had discovered want, and in that moment found purpose. All he knew of his former self was his ambition, and it would seem that ambition had not died with him.

He looks to the Don with excitement in his eyes. "Howzabout we go make a name for ourselves, claim our just rewards!"
Todd
 player, 6 posts
Sun 1 Apr 2018
at 10:23
1: All ye who enter here
Todd gives Haraj a friendly nod and a smirk. 'Cheers mate. See ya later.' Bat friend puts the dagger away, takes the bowl in both ands, and slowly scuttles to the edge of the tent, eating all the while, before rising into flight and lazily trying to scout out the other new arrivals.

Todd eats while doing so, which would be quite impressive if there was anyone around to see it. Holding a bowl in flight  with ones feets is no mean...feat.