Sagiro's Story Hour Returns (new thread started on 5/18/08)
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Sagiro
Rodent of Uncertain Parentage
Sagiro’s Story Hour, Part 237
A Tempting Offer
“We are now negotiating for something else.”
Tapheon’s voice is calm and matter-of-fact in their heads. He has clearly mastered his temper.
“Your friend here cannot breath and will soon suffocate.”
Aravis immediately begins to cast a spell, but stops at a threatening gesture from Tapheon.
“Stop that, Aravis Telmir. It won’t work, and will only anger me further. Besides which, you are wasting valuable time. Your friend is dying. What would you like to give me, so that I will return him to his normal, air-breathing form? Items of monetary or magical value will suffice for this... sub-negotiation.”
Aravis whips the magical wizard hat off his head; it’s been a long time since he’s pulled anything out of it. He ends up with a small glass globe, half-filled with a shimmering grey liquid.
“What is that?” asks Tapheon amusedly.
“Mercury. I think,” says Aravis.
“Toss it over.”
Dranko is almost as confused as he is tortured. He has no clear sense of his body, not even of where his feet are. For that matter he can’t even feel his feet. One of his fish-eyes is fixed on the party, and the other is on Tapheon, but he can neither blink nor turn away from either. His field of vision is distorted and alien, like he’s looking through two blurry spyglasses each pointed in a different direction.
Of course, it’s hard to think clearly about those things given how much pain he’s in. The others can see his tendons and ribs and fleshy fish-bits through the holes ripped in his body.
One of Tapheon’s eyes follows the globe of mercury as Aravis rolls it to the base of the throne. The Demon Lord shakes his head, taps his foot, and casts two of his eyes meaningfully at Dranko.
Grey Wolf offers up his ring of the berserker. Ernie gives up a seldom-used +1 short bow, and Flicker reluctantly sacrifices his glove of missile snaring. When Tapheon still looks unimpressed, Kibi fishes out his bag of reserve gems and starts pulling out handfuls. When he’s emptied over 1000 GP worth into the pile, Tapheon nods his head slightly.
“Pathetic. But acceptable. This sidelight is about instruction, not extortion.”
He squeezes the Despoiler of Flesh and the tongues wriggle and writhe. Dranko congeals back into an un-stretched fish and then quickly back into his half-orcish form. The pain switches off, leaving only a hideous memory.
Tapheon stretches out a hand and the pile of loot slides itself behind his throne and out of sight. Dranko watches and can’t stop himself from exclaiming, “That’s was it? You ransomed me for that? I though I was worth ten times that much!”
“If you wish, I can turn you back, and your friends can give up more of their valuables.” It’s hard to tell if he’s joking.
In as steady and stern a voice as he can manage, Ernie says, “Dranko, I’m your friend, and I don’t ask you for much. But I’m begging you... Shut. Up. I don’t want to stay here anymore, and I don’t want you to die here.”
“I’m not afraid of that,” says Dranko, full of sincerity and bluster together. “My soul is pure. Ish. Pure-ish.”
“Your soul is most certainly not pure,” Tapheon scoffs. “But then, very few people can say that. Not even you.”
Here he looks meaningfully at Once Certain Step.
“But like I said, we’ll get to you presently. Now. Shall I ask the question again, now that I can expect more reasonable answers?”
“No, there’s nothing you can offer us,” says Aravis wearily.
“Pity. And I ask for so little.”
“Like we said,” says Morningstar, “It’s entirely likely that if he attacks us, you’ll get what you want anyway.”
“I suppose I’ll just have to make due,” says Tapheon with exaggerated resignation. After a few seconds of silence the Demon Lord speaks again, his tone lighter..
“Step. Come forward please.”
Step walks forward slowly until he stands directly at the foot of the serrated throne. Ernie goes with him, and Tapheon does not object
"I’m going to make you an offer.” Tapheon’s voice is now full of magnanimity. “It only applies to you, so the rest of you, don’t get any ideas. I’m going to offer to let you kill me.”
Er. What?
“I won’t defend myself. I haven’t done anything to you personally, yes, but don’t let that stop you. I’ve committed atrocities of such magnitude, and in such numbers, that there is no doubt I deserve death, or worse. So, because I sense you want it so badly, and because you’ll be doing the world a great service... you may kill me.”
Step instinctively grips his sword, but Ernie whispers to him: "Temptation is temptation, Step. Think about what you’re doing.”
“Temptation? That’s such a crude term.” Tapheon shakes his head at Ernie, then turns back to Step. “Don’t you think I deserve to die? Did you see what I did to your friend? Step. You’ve wanted to. I know what you want. I’m offering you a once-in-a-lifetime congruence of what you want, and what is right. It is not right that I should be alive. Would you like me to show you deeds I’ve done? The torments I’ve visited on a thousand souls? Once you’ve seen them, you may have no choice. Your conscience, that which makes you so noble, will move on its own to strike me down.”
“Don’t do it, Step,” whispers Ernie.
Step doesn’t release his sword, but he says haltingly: “I know what it is you offer.”
“Oh, I doubt that. The obvious answer isn’t the right answer in this case, One Certain Step.”
Conflict darkens the paladin’s complexion. He thinks he sees the trap. He’ll move to strike this creature, a vile monster more deserving of death than anything that’s been in the reach of his sword. But Tapheon is lying, and won’t allow himself to be killed. Step will accomplish nothing save breaking his own code of conduct. But would it, really? Didn’t Tapheon strike first when he... changed... Dranko? What would Kemma’s judgment be if he dies having rid the universe of such a loathsome beast as this? Or having struck down in anger a being offering no resistance? Aren’t the giants of Surgoil enough of a blemish on his soul? Must he add this as well?
“You see, Step, what you’re thinking is: ‘I’m being tempted to strike you because the right thing to do is, never strike first.’ They do teach you that sort of thing, right? But in this case, the temptation is deeper. In this case, the temptation is: are you so bound to your promises that you would doom thousands of people, all those who I will go on to torment and kill in my life, to uphold an abstract ideal that frankly means nothing in this context? Think of the suffering you will cause, by not killing me.”
“And you’re making this offer out of the goodness of your heart?” asks Morningstar.
“I have good reasons, that you will come to appreciate. Step, strike me.”
One Certain Step starts to pull the sword from his sheath, then stops. With a great effort he releases the grip; his hand finds Ernie’s hand, lifted up to him, and he grips it, trembling.
“You know so little of Good,” Step utters, exhaling a long-held breath.
Tapheon steps back. “My friend, I know more about Good than you. But, well done! You’ve passed the test. Your soul is pure. Pure enough. A lesser man would have struck me, I’m sure. But now you are ready to atone.”
Step goes pale.
“It is necessary, isn’t it. I can sense it. Can’t you?”
The paladin nods instinctively. Yes, he can sense it. The Lightless Room...
“He’ll need all his faith, all his purity when the time comes, won’t he?” Tapheon addresses the others. “I don’t know why. That moment will come beyond the Lord of the Roses and beyond my sight. But I feel it will be so.”
Tapheon manages to convey a contented smile despite his lack of mouth.
“Now I’ll tell you something more, and this truly is of the goodness of my heart. Mostly. I’m also telling you this because I don’t know what you’ll find past the Lord of the Roses, and this information may be useful to you. And, it pleases me to think you may owe me something in the future. Not that you have any intentions of paying me back; you won’t consider this a debt, and I don’t blame you. But I digress.
“The Black Circle Wizards, they also deserve death. I know why this all started, and it’s their fault. They had the gall to come to the Abyss, set up shop. They were attempting something very strange. They were setting up... a beacon. Sending magical signals into the adjoining planes.”
He turns to Aravis. “You know of what I speak, Holy One.”
Holy One? What? Tapheon continues.
“The coterminous planes, they call them. The Black Circle devotees sent this signal out, as if they expected something to hear them. There are parts of these coterminous planes that can only be reached through the Abyss, or the Hells, or some other Outer Planes. Nothing answered them. I don’t think there was anything there to answer. But they attempted to augment this with a wild-magic item. That was a mistake. I suppose I could have stopped them, but I found their efforts fascinating. It is always bad news for people on the Primes to open permanent ways to the Lower Planes. They meddled in things they knew not of, and look what happened. The Slices. Their power source got out of hand.”
“We know they were trying to summon what they believe to be their Lord,” says Aravis.
“Yes. And what is that? Do you know?
The Company shakes their heads.
“Something immensely powerful, I imagine. Trapped, unable to find its way home. I suppose I should be glad whatever it is didn’t answer. If it did, it may have traveled through my domain and challenged my power. I have better things to do.
“And now, this interview is at an end. You will be escorted to the borders of the Abyssal lands. Beyond that you will have no option but reach the Lord of the Roses. He has seen to that. By destroying certain of the Ways he has made a corridor between me and him, as we have wrestled from our seats of power. He... can turn off Ways, to better channel his power. But he has not turned off the ways necessary for you to reach him. He desires that.”
“Does he have the power source that the Black Circle used to make the beacon?” asks Kibi.
“My guess is yes. I sense it is the same type of power.”
Not for a single second in all of this encounter has Tapheon's upper left eye strayed from Kibi’s feet. Now the other three eyes flick again toward Scree. Then Lord Tapheon gestures, and the red circle blinks back on.
“Queylic will escort you. Good luck.”
Soon the Company is back in the long corridor. Queylic is there, with two Vrocks attending her.
“This way.” She slithers down the corridor.
“I never thought I’d be glad to see her,” says Morningstar.
Queylic soon leads them to the large room with many doors, and then out and down the huge iron ramp. The screams of impaled souls sound loud and terrible in their ears.
“It is not a long walk to the next Way out,” says Queylic, gliding on ahead of them. “I hope that your audience with Lord Tapheon went well?”
“As well as could be expected,” says Dranko.
“We’re all still alive,” adds Kibi.
“Yes. Most unexpected,” says Queylic, sounding honestly surprised. “He must want something very badly from you.”
“He does,” says Dranko. And then he adds: “You were right about him not liking jokes, though.”
... to be continued...
A Tempting Offer
“We are now negotiating for something else.”
Tapheon’s voice is calm and matter-of-fact in their heads. He has clearly mastered his temper.
“Your friend here cannot breath and will soon suffocate.”
Aravis immediately begins to cast a spell, but stops at a threatening gesture from Tapheon.
“Stop that, Aravis Telmir. It won’t work, and will only anger me further. Besides which, you are wasting valuable time. Your friend is dying. What would you like to give me, so that I will return him to his normal, air-breathing form? Items of monetary or magical value will suffice for this... sub-negotiation.”
Aravis whips the magical wizard hat off his head; it’s been a long time since he’s pulled anything out of it. He ends up with a small glass globe, half-filled with a shimmering grey liquid.
“What is that?” asks Tapheon amusedly.
“Mercury. I think,” says Aravis.
“Toss it over.”
Dranko is almost as confused as he is tortured. He has no clear sense of his body, not even of where his feet are. For that matter he can’t even feel his feet. One of his fish-eyes is fixed on the party, and the other is on Tapheon, but he can neither blink nor turn away from either. His field of vision is distorted and alien, like he’s looking through two blurry spyglasses each pointed in a different direction.
Of course, it’s hard to think clearly about those things given how much pain he’s in. The others can see his tendons and ribs and fleshy fish-bits through the holes ripped in his body.
One of Tapheon’s eyes follows the globe of mercury as Aravis rolls it to the base of the throne. The Demon Lord shakes his head, taps his foot, and casts two of his eyes meaningfully at Dranko.
Grey Wolf offers up his ring of the berserker. Ernie gives up a seldom-used +1 short bow, and Flicker reluctantly sacrifices his glove of missile snaring. When Tapheon still looks unimpressed, Kibi fishes out his bag of reserve gems and starts pulling out handfuls. When he’s emptied over 1000 GP worth into the pile, Tapheon nods his head slightly.
“Pathetic. But acceptable. This sidelight is about instruction, not extortion.”
He squeezes the Despoiler of Flesh and the tongues wriggle and writhe. Dranko congeals back into an un-stretched fish and then quickly back into his half-orcish form. The pain switches off, leaving only a hideous memory.
Tapheon stretches out a hand and the pile of loot slides itself behind his throne and out of sight. Dranko watches and can’t stop himself from exclaiming, “That’s was it? You ransomed me for that? I though I was worth ten times that much!”
“If you wish, I can turn you back, and your friends can give up more of their valuables.” It’s hard to tell if he’s joking.
In as steady and stern a voice as he can manage, Ernie says, “Dranko, I’m your friend, and I don’t ask you for much. But I’m begging you... Shut. Up. I don’t want to stay here anymore, and I don’t want you to die here.”
“I’m not afraid of that,” says Dranko, full of sincerity and bluster together. “My soul is pure. Ish. Pure-ish.”
“Your soul is most certainly not pure,” Tapheon scoffs. “But then, very few people can say that. Not even you.”
Here he looks meaningfully at Once Certain Step.
“But like I said, we’ll get to you presently. Now. Shall I ask the question again, now that I can expect more reasonable answers?”
“No, there’s nothing you can offer us,” says Aravis wearily.
“Pity. And I ask for so little.”
“Like we said,” says Morningstar, “It’s entirely likely that if he attacks us, you’ll get what you want anyway.”
“I suppose I’ll just have to make due,” says Tapheon with exaggerated resignation. After a few seconds of silence the Demon Lord speaks again, his tone lighter..
“Step. Come forward please.”
Step walks forward slowly until he stands directly at the foot of the serrated throne. Ernie goes with him, and Tapheon does not object
"I’m going to make you an offer.” Tapheon’s voice is now full of magnanimity. “It only applies to you, so the rest of you, don’t get any ideas. I’m going to offer to let you kill me.”
Er. What?
“I won’t defend myself. I haven’t done anything to you personally, yes, but don’t let that stop you. I’ve committed atrocities of such magnitude, and in such numbers, that there is no doubt I deserve death, or worse. So, because I sense you want it so badly, and because you’ll be doing the world a great service... you may kill me.”
Step instinctively grips his sword, but Ernie whispers to him: "Temptation is temptation, Step. Think about what you’re doing.”
“Temptation? That’s such a crude term.” Tapheon shakes his head at Ernie, then turns back to Step. “Don’t you think I deserve to die? Did you see what I did to your friend? Step. You’ve wanted to. I know what you want. I’m offering you a once-in-a-lifetime congruence of what you want, and what is right. It is not right that I should be alive. Would you like me to show you deeds I’ve done? The torments I’ve visited on a thousand souls? Once you’ve seen them, you may have no choice. Your conscience, that which makes you so noble, will move on its own to strike me down.”
“Don’t do it, Step,” whispers Ernie.
Step doesn’t release his sword, but he says haltingly: “I know what it is you offer.”
“Oh, I doubt that. The obvious answer isn’t the right answer in this case, One Certain Step.”
Conflict darkens the paladin’s complexion. He thinks he sees the trap. He’ll move to strike this creature, a vile monster more deserving of death than anything that’s been in the reach of his sword. But Tapheon is lying, and won’t allow himself to be killed. Step will accomplish nothing save breaking his own code of conduct. But would it, really? Didn’t Tapheon strike first when he... changed... Dranko? What would Kemma’s judgment be if he dies having rid the universe of such a loathsome beast as this? Or having struck down in anger a being offering no resistance? Aren’t the giants of Surgoil enough of a blemish on his soul? Must he add this as well?
“You see, Step, what you’re thinking is: ‘I’m being tempted to strike you because the right thing to do is, never strike first.’ They do teach you that sort of thing, right? But in this case, the temptation is deeper. In this case, the temptation is: are you so bound to your promises that you would doom thousands of people, all those who I will go on to torment and kill in my life, to uphold an abstract ideal that frankly means nothing in this context? Think of the suffering you will cause, by not killing me.”
“And you’re making this offer out of the goodness of your heart?” asks Morningstar.
“I have good reasons, that you will come to appreciate. Step, strike me.”
One Certain Step starts to pull the sword from his sheath, then stops. With a great effort he releases the grip; his hand finds Ernie’s hand, lifted up to him, and he grips it, trembling.
“You know so little of Good,” Step utters, exhaling a long-held breath.
Tapheon steps back. “My friend, I know more about Good than you. But, well done! You’ve passed the test. Your soul is pure. Pure enough. A lesser man would have struck me, I’m sure. But now you are ready to atone.”
Step goes pale.
“It is necessary, isn’t it. I can sense it. Can’t you?”
The paladin nods instinctively. Yes, he can sense it. The Lightless Room...
“He’ll need all his faith, all his purity when the time comes, won’t he?” Tapheon addresses the others. “I don’t know why. That moment will come beyond the Lord of the Roses and beyond my sight. But I feel it will be so.”
Tapheon manages to convey a contented smile despite his lack of mouth.
“Now I’ll tell you something more, and this truly is of the goodness of my heart. Mostly. I’m also telling you this because I don’t know what you’ll find past the Lord of the Roses, and this information may be useful to you. And, it pleases me to think you may owe me something in the future. Not that you have any intentions of paying me back; you won’t consider this a debt, and I don’t blame you. But I digress.
“The Black Circle Wizards, they also deserve death. I know why this all started, and it’s their fault. They had the gall to come to the Abyss, set up shop. They were attempting something very strange. They were setting up... a beacon. Sending magical signals into the adjoining planes.”
He turns to Aravis. “You know of what I speak, Holy One.”
Holy One? What? Tapheon continues.
“The coterminous planes, they call them. The Black Circle devotees sent this signal out, as if they expected something to hear them. There are parts of these coterminous planes that can only be reached through the Abyss, or the Hells, or some other Outer Planes. Nothing answered them. I don’t think there was anything there to answer. But they attempted to augment this with a wild-magic item. That was a mistake. I suppose I could have stopped them, but I found their efforts fascinating. It is always bad news for people on the Primes to open permanent ways to the Lower Planes. They meddled in things they knew not of, and look what happened. The Slices. Their power source got out of hand.”
“We know they were trying to summon what they believe to be their Lord,” says Aravis.
“Yes. And what is that? Do you know?
The Company shakes their heads.
“Something immensely powerful, I imagine. Trapped, unable to find its way home. I suppose I should be glad whatever it is didn’t answer. If it did, it may have traveled through my domain and challenged my power. I have better things to do.
“And now, this interview is at an end. You will be escorted to the borders of the Abyssal lands. Beyond that you will have no option but reach the Lord of the Roses. He has seen to that. By destroying certain of the Ways he has made a corridor between me and him, as we have wrestled from our seats of power. He... can turn off Ways, to better channel his power. But he has not turned off the ways necessary for you to reach him. He desires that.”
“Does he have the power source that the Black Circle used to make the beacon?” asks Kibi.
“My guess is yes. I sense it is the same type of power.”
Not for a single second in all of this encounter has Tapheon's upper left eye strayed from Kibi’s feet. Now the other three eyes flick again toward Scree. Then Lord Tapheon gestures, and the red circle blinks back on.
“Queylic will escort you. Good luck.”
Soon the Company is back in the long corridor. Queylic is there, with two Vrocks attending her.
“This way.” She slithers down the corridor.
“I never thought I’d be glad to see her,” says Morningstar.
Queylic soon leads them to the large room with many doors, and then out and down the huge iron ramp. The screams of impaled souls sound loud and terrible in their ears.
“It is not a long walk to the next Way out,” says Queylic, gliding on ahead of them. “I hope that your audience with Lord Tapheon went well?”
“As well as could be expected,” says Dranko.
“We’re all still alive,” adds Kibi.
“Yes. Most unexpected,” says Queylic, sounding honestly surprised. “He must want something very badly from you.”
“He does,” says Dranko. And then he adds: “You were right about him not liking jokes, though.”
... to be continued...
Last edited:
el-remmen
Moderator Emeritus
coyote6 said:
Sarellion said:
shilsen said:I wouldn't count on it. As the saying goes, it ain't over till the four-eyed noseless, mouthless demon lord sings. Or something like that
Come on! What part of "
" don't you guys understand? 
I mean, first Tapheon polymorphs and tortures Dranko, and then to show the party that they will do what he wants he demands a paltry little thing from them (some minor magic and gems) just to show his "generosity" because obviosuly if he wanted more from them he would have it.
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