Necrow greeted a few guests while the Mistress was preoccupied.
Tag: adventurer
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Quick Time Event.
• As you round the corner, you hear the sound of wet footsteps quickly approaching from behind. You turn and raise your torch, but the crackling flame reveals only the same empty, windowless hallway you just traversed. Are your ears playing tricks on you…?
• You feel something slimy dripping onto your shoulder. An icy chill climbs your spine as your gaze shoots upward.
• Necrow roars with laughter as his melting frame drops from above! There’s only a split-second to react!
PARRY ⭆ ((Ⓧ)) ⭅ ◔ ⭆ ((Ⓑ)) ⭅ EVADE
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Battle Log.
Vorpal’s first boss battle was highly unusual!
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Boss Battle.
• Vorpal gets the drop on you!
• Vorpal chitters excitedly while she sizes you up!
► Attack
Defend
Item
Flee -
The Thief, or: A Primer on Mundus Mortis, Part One.
The most frequent excuse offered by those venturing into the darkness of Mundus Mortis is the legend of life-altering wealth, hidden deep within its cursed halls. It’s not hard to imagine why, given the proprietor of this haunted fortress: Grizelda, the dread lich queen, has been residing there for generations. A sorceress is certain to have all sorts of rare metals, alchemic instruments, and magic bric-a-brac laying about, after all, and any treasure hunter worth their salt knows a merchant or two that deals in such esoteric wares.
Surely just a peek inside wouldn’t be too dangerous? As long as one was careful not to rouse any of the tomb’s denizens, one could very likely make a small fortune in a single evening… Or so it’s been said.
Talia Goodgrave decided to press her luck, despite a satchel already brimming with thick gold rings. Each had a small slit straight through, rounded gently on both sides. What were they supposed to be for, she wondered? No telling with a lich. They were heavy, though, and that meant they’d fetch a high price with the metallurgist. There were easily fifty of them jingling cheerily in the bag, and each time she peeked inside to admire them, they caught the light in a way that made her giddy. It was almost a shame to sell them. Perhaps if she delved a little deeper, she could find a few more alchemic baubles to hock, and still be able keep a ring or two as proof of her daring adventure on the next hard-drinking night at the tavern. Just a little further.
(more…) -
Deidre Delmonico, Freelance Mage.
“If you’re going to insist on tagging along, at least keep up. It’s getting late, and I don’t sleep in dungeons.”
A descendant of a long line of unusually-tailed folk, Deidre is a naturally talented practitioner of the magical arts with a hugely inflated opinion of herself. Selfish, proud, and overly confident in her abilities, she enjoys the prestige that comes with adventuring, but has a general distaste for the associated grime and muck. Not terribly realistic in this line of work, but then, nobody has ever accused her of having good judgement. Frequently seen in the company of her long-suffering ward, Roman, an orphan with an uncanny knack for necromancy (and not much else). Though Deidre finds his lack of magical range to be a little boring, his doting admiration for his guardian has proven tactically useful on many occasions.
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Snicker-snack.
“This one stopped moving, too! I guess that just leaves you, huh?”
Vorpal spots you from a distance. She’s cautious, given the nature of your presence; you’re most likely here to destroy the Mistress, and she can’t allow that. Taking you on directly would be suicide, not that she’s any stranger to death; as the first line of defense, she’s tasked with greeting all visitors to Mundus Mortis, Grizelda’s horrific subterranean compound.
Perhaps she’ll creep along the ceiling, hiding between the shadows, waiting for you to let your guard down. She’ll only need a moment. Just a quick sting, and her job is finished. It’s alright if you dispatch her afterwards; Grizelda’s dark science has put her back together plenty of times before. You, on the other hand, have a painful dilemma on your hands: your body is now burning with ichor-infused venom. As your insides melt, you wonder if you should warn your friends or end your own suffering. You don’t have time to decide before you join the souls of hundreds before you.
A third-generation test subject, Vorpal is a chimera of insectoid corpses implanted with Necrow’s regenerating flesh. Hypnotized by the ichor pumping through her chitinous body since rebirth, Vorpal has been trained in absolute subservience to the Mistress. Any demand, no matter how dangerous or degrading, is performed with an uncannily perverse glee. Her love for Grizelda dominates her thoughts, and she is highly possessive of her attention amongst the other abominations.
