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#and what you expected is a giant verminous insect
notsp1derman · 1 year
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a straightforward review of "the metamorphosis", by franz kafka
[may contain spoilers]
"The sister played so beautifully. Her face was tilted to one side and she followed the notes with soulful and probing eyes. Gregor advanced a little, keeping his eyes low so that they might possibly meet hers. Was he a beast if music could move him so?"
Finally, I've come around to read an author I've been very curious about for some time. Despite knowing already what the story entails, just from its status as a modern classic, I had no idea what the book's message actually was. But boy does it deserve this status.
With his simplistic writing, Kafka hides many layers of opinions, criticisms and symbolism, that can quickly escape your grasp if you don't pay enough attention. There are freudian slips, digs against figures of authority, some pretty relatable metaphors about mental illness and very obvious parallels between Gregor Samsa and Franz Kafka; all which can pass through unseen if you loose yourself in the more direct and absurd aspects of the book.
What stood out the most for me, however, was the slow change in Gregor's relationship with his family after being transformed, and how it was directly connected to his position as the family's only provider. Despite the hardships and him not really liking his profession, Gregor always made sacrifices for his family, a choice that persisted even though he thought himself less than human by the end of the narrative.
He was freed from the shackles of the average western life, but at the cost of his bonds with those closest to him, who shunned who they thought was a monster because they quite literally didn't understand him. And it is with this sense of absurdity and despair that we are left after the liberating but tragic closure. Much like real life, sometimes.
★★★★☆
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velvetwarfare · 6 months
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DO YOU REMEMBER WHY YOU KEPT THE NOSFERATU LEASHED?
EXTERMINATION DAY RESOUNDED THE GONG OF THE TOWER. LUTE HAD HIT HARDER THAN EXPECTED AFTER THE FIRST MAN PLUMMETED TO HELL TO JOIN THE VERY SINNERS HE SWORE TO ERADICATE.
Swarms of the newly trained angels BLED FROM THE REDDENED SKY, THE CHORUS OF AGONY SEEPING THROUGH THE STREETS. BLOOD coated the cobblestone in only a matter of minutes, families running for cover and the unsuspecting getting IMPALED BY ANGELIC STEEL.
This time, the V tower was targeted. Betty didn’t think much of it at first — what were a few measly winged vermin? But upon seeing how RAVENOUS they were, they started to resemble HARPY more than ANGEL. This caused PANIC to brew in her heart, the red head hardly getting time to react before the window SHATTERED, A BARRAGE OF THE DISGUSTING CREATURES OOZING IN WITH WAR CRIES. BODIES OF THE LOWLY LITTERED LIKE DEBRIS AND A RAIN OF BOTH BLOOD AND GUNPOWDER COATED RICH TILE, A TORRENT OF MORTIFIED SCREAMS ERUPTING FROM A TSUNAMI OF SINNERS.
The undead did her best to fend off what she could on the way to the Vee’s — but surprisingly found herself having DIFFICULTY. Even with her blood magic and bloodlust, there was just TOO DAMN MANY WITH AN EQUAL AMOUNT OF AGGRESSION — OUTNUMBERED.
SHAKY HANDS GRASPED THE AMULET THAT KEPT THE BEAST CONTAINED. WOULD IT BE WORTH IT? WHAT ABOUT THE VEE’S? WOULD THEY SURVIVE? ANGELIC STEEL WOULD KILL THEM PERMANENTLY. THIS WOULD BE THE BEST OUTCOME FOR THEM SHOULD SHIT REALLY HIT THE FAN —
AT LEAST THEY WOULD PERISH TO HER BLOODIED CLAWS INSTEAD OF SPEAR AND RETURN SHOULD SHE END UP MURDERING ONE OF THE TRIO IN THE BESERK RAGE.
The last image that flashed in her clouded mind as she SLAMMED THE AMULET ON THE GROUND was that of the trio laughing with her — and feeling a SICKENINGLY STRANGE SENSATION OF HOME.
— — —
DO IT FOR THEM. SAVE THEM. YOU CAN SNAP OUT OF IT IN TIME, CAN’T YOU, VAMPIRE?
AN UNHINGED JAW CLAMPED DOWN ON AN EXORCIST’S STOMACH, SQUEEZING HER BODY BENEATH ROWS OF SHARP TEETH BEFORE RAG DOLLING HER AROUND LIKE A DOG TOY. The lifeless body was then TOSSED FULL FORCE INTO THE WALL AND SPLAT LIKE A SQUASHED INSECT.
Slowly, upon sensing another FEARFUL presence behind her, the nosferatu turned to meet eyes with Vox. A HULKING BEAST ROUGHLY ABOUT 7’8 WITH GIANT, TORN WINGS AND A BLEEDING MAW LUMBERED TOWARD HIM IN A PREDATORY GAIT — UNABLE TO RECOGNIZE THE PERSON IN FRONT OF HER AS ONE OF THE TRIO SHE WAS MEANT TO SHIELD.
She then TOWERED above him, the TVs surrounding the two video taping the entire dilemma. ALL AROUND THEM WERE REFLECTIONS OF THE NOSFERATU’S TERRIFYING APPEARANCE, AMPLIFYING THE DETAIL JUST AS SHE GOT IN A POUNCING POSITION.
SAVE THEM.
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@hazbinhive
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monstersdownthepath · 3 years
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5e Otherworldly Patron: The Mother of Filth
scratching squirming skitter gnawing swarming stalking slither clawing wasting breeding dripping screaming rotting feeding sickness dreaming
Something is wrong with you. There’s this itch, this... foulness you cannot alleviate. You picked it up from somewhere, something, someone, and it hasn’t lessened in the time you’ve had it. A persistent cough, a rash you cannot get rid of, some sour taste at the back of your throat, some crawling within your ears, or nose, or behind your eye. It’s something, it’s there, it won’t go away. An illness, you’ve told yourself. A simple disease. It will pass, you’ve said, it will pass in time.
it has been years.
Years of this. These symptoms, these rashes and sores and blisters, this coughing and sneezing and aching and fever. It’s made you pitiful. No one will look at you anymore, not directly. They’ll talk to you, yes, but only if you talk to them first. Sometimes, though, they’ll act like they can’t hear you. Many of them don’t even seem to notice as you move towards them, silently standing aside to let you pass without interrupting whatever they were doing. Sometimes it seems like they don’t even know they’re ignoring you.
Maybe you’ve started taking advantage of that, maybe you cannot stand it, but once you realized it was happening, something in you changed. Your sickness became worse, the symptoms more pronounced. Nothing could alleviate them. And then, a... thing formed inside you. A lump or a weight in your belly, or your chest, or your head. Now that it’s here, it feels... strange. It’s not comforting, but you feel it’s natural. Like this was supposed to happen, some logical progression of whatever foulness has seeped into you. In a way, you feel like you expected it. Maybe you were even waiting for it.
Now, in your fevered dreams, you swear there’s something else in them with you. Something trying to communicate with you. There are no words you understand, merely feelings. Ideas. Sensations. Some sort of... directions or instructions. In your addled mind, you’ve found yourself wondering: just what would happen if you followed them?
EXPANDED SPELL LIST The following spells are added to the Warlock spell list for you:
1st: Grease, Ray of Sickness
2nd: Web, Blindness/Deafness
3rd: Stinking Cloud, Feign Death
4th: Greater Invisibility, Giant Insect
5th: Cloudkill, Insect Plague
-Miserable Pity
By 1st level, you’ve already lived with this illness for years. It’s made you an unapproachable creature, a leper, something that mortal minds view with a mix of pity and fear; others will interact with you if you interact with them, but most of them will unconsciously avoid looking at you, listening to you, and especially avoid touching you.
This does have its benefits: Once per short or long rest as a reaction to being targeted with an attack or a spell attack, you may force the attack roll or spell attack roll to be made with disadvantage by momentarily revealing your pitiful nature. In addition, this pity largely prevents you from suffering penalties when interacting with other living creatures, as they subconsciously refuse to notice how much the sickness has taken from you. In their minds, while you don’t appear healthy, you at least resemble a functioning member of society. Undead, constructs, and most animals can see through this aura; aside from verminous creatures or well-trained mounts, animals will often refuse to approach you, shrinking away unless pressed into the interaction, which could have consequences. Certain other creatures, such as Fiends or Celestials, may also see past this aura of pity as well at the DMs discretion.
-Averted Eyes
This subconscious ignorance of your presence has an additional benefit: At 1st level, you gain proficiency with Stealth. If you are already proficient, your proficiency bonus for this skill is doubled.
-Scratching Squirming Skitter Gnawing
inside you feel them inside chewing eating everything else that would hurt you. they’re your allies, not your enemies. Certainly, it may have hurt at first, it may have been repulsive at first, but they’re here to help. They’re here to provide for you, protect you.
At 6th level, your body plays host to grotesque parasites that conditions you to things far worse. You’re bolstered against foul elements, if only because there’s less of you to affect. You become resistant to Poison damage, have advantage on saving throws to avoid becoming Poisoned, and you are unharmed by any disease you contract, though you still bear their symptoms and contagious diseases you contract remain contagious. Diseases you contract never heal on their own.
-Swarming Stalking Slither Clawing
Some days in the past you’ll wake up to find a rodent or roach perched on your chest. Now, though, there’s significantly more. Vermin crawl within your clothes, skittering across your skin, nesting in your hair. They mean you no harm, nor will they cause any. In time, you may grow used to them. You may love them as they love you.
At level 10, each time you complete a short or long rest, vermin will gather onto your person, attracted by the call of your illness. They move to shield your body from attacks, granting you temporary HP equal to your Warlock level. While you have any temporary HP from this ability you have resistance to Necrotic damage. In addition, verminous creatures (such as rats and mice, centipedes, flies, spiders, etc) will never willingly attack you unless you cause them harm first.
Your Miserable Pity ability keeps others from noticing your vermin coating just as easily as it kept them from noticing your pox.
-A Mother’s Love
New life. That’s all that it is. New and beautiful. Others call it Filth, call it garbage, or waste, or even worse: A plague, an infection, a cancer. They can’t understand; this isn’t a plague, it’s a blessing.
At 14th level, the Mother gives you a grand gift. A piece of her manifests within you, a tumorous growth that partially emerges from an unobtrusive location on your body, such as your stomach or back. This bloated thing alerts you to incoming danger and can even take hold of your spells for you should your attention falter. You gain Blindsense out to 10ft, able to sense hidden or invisible creatures within that radius. In addition, if your concentration on a spell is broken, you may use your reaction to re-establish a hold on the magic, as though your concentration was never lost. Once you do this, you must complete a long rest before doing it again.
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INVOCATIONS
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Hacking Cough Prereq: Mother of Filth patron
As an action, you can share your misery, retching and coughing upon a creature within 10ft of you. That creature must succeed a Constitution save versus your Warlock spell DC or become poisoned for 1 minute. A creature poisoned in this way may make a Constitution save at the end of their turn to end the condition, but they take 1d4 Poison damage on a failure. Once you’ve used this ability a number of times equal to your proficiency bonus, you must complete a long rest before doing so again.
Scrounger Prereq: Mother of Filth patron
Desperate times call for desperate measures, and you have been desperate for a very, very long time. You gain proficiency in Constitution saving throws, and can consume rotted or diseased food and drink without suffering any consequences. 
Record of Roaches Prereq: Mother of Filth patron, Pact of the Tome
Your Book of Shadows is replaced with an unnerving, chitin-covered tome. While in possession of this tome, you may conjure a swarm of ravenous roaches in a 10ft cube within 30ft of you as an action. This space is difficult terrain, and creatures entering it or beginning their turn in it take 1d6 magical slashing and 1d6 Poison damage. This corrupted space lingers for 1 minute, or until you use this ability again. You may use this feature three times, and regain all uses after a long rest.
Dripping Blade Prereq: Mother of Filth patron, Pact of the Blade
Your pact weapon becomes coated in a layer of toxic grime. A creature damaged by your pact weapon takes an additional 1d6 Poison damage. If you critically strike an enemy with your pact weapon or strike a creature who is not aware of you, that creature becomes infected with Sewer Plague, which incubates and progresses as normal.
Fecund Familiar Prereq: Mother of Filth patron, Pact of the Chain
When summoning a new familiar, instead of choosing an empowered familiar from the Pact of the Chain, you may instead summon two of the following in any combination: a spider, a rat, a bat, or a cockroach (use the statistics of a crab). Both of these creatures are your familiars and share a mind split between multiple bodies. At level 10, you may maintain three familiars at the same time. At level 16, you may have four.
Filthy Friends Prereq: Mother of Filth patron, level 5
Sometimes they were all you had. As an action, you may command vermin from your surroundings to a single point within 60ft of you that you can see, summoning either a Swarm of Insects or a Swarm of Rats in that space. These swarms will obey your mental commands until brought to 0 HP or until 1 minute passes, at which point they disperse. Once you use this ability, you must complete a short or long rest to do so again.
Tatterdemalion Prereq: Mother of Filth patron, lvl 6
Over the course of a long rest, you can construct a piecemeal armor for yourself from rags, scavenged leather, and broken metal bits. Wearing this makes your AC equal 10 + your Constitution modifier + your Charisma modifier. Only you or another Warlock of the Mother of Filth can benefit from this armor, and it may be enchanted as normal armor can be, if you desire.
Pernicious Poison Prereq: Mother of Filth patron, lvl 7
Poison damage you inflict with your Warlock spells and abilities does full damage to creatures with resistance to Poison, and upon reaching level 12, your poisons deal half damage to creatures immune to Poison. In addition, once per long rest, you may use your bonus action to select a single creature within 100ft that you can see, infesting them with insidious Filth. That creature loses any immunity to the poisoned condition it has and gains vulnerability to Poison damage. At the start of that creature’s turn, it may make a Constitution save against your Warlock spell save DC to end this effect.
Don’t Ignore Me Prereq: Mother of Filth patron, lvl 8
If they won’t look at you, you’ll take advantage of it. Once per turn, you can deal an extra 2d6 damage to one creature you hit with an attack if you have advantage on the attack roll. The attack must use a finesse or a ranged weapon. You don't need advantage on the attack roll if another enemy of the target is within 5 feet of it, that enemy isn't incapacitated, and you don't have disadvantage on the attack roll. At level 12, this damage increases to 3d6, and it increases to 4d6 at level 16.
Vermin Lord Prereq: Mother of Filth patron, level 10
You can cast Dominate Beast at will as a 5th level spell without expending a spell slot, but only to control verminous creatures (an insect, arachnid, or rodent Beast with an Int of 2 or less). This control lasts for 10 minutes and requires no concentration from you, but you may only maintain control of up to 5 creatures at a time (a swarm counts as 1 creature). Controlling a new one ends the oldest instance of the effect. You cannot target the same creature with this effect again until you complete a long rest.      
Retching Wretch Prereq: Mother of Filth patron, level 10, Hacking Cough
Your Hacking Cough’s range becomes 30ft. Whenever you successfully poison a creature with Hacking Cough, choose one of the following options:
Clawing, Gnawing: The creature is wracked with muscle aches. As long as it is poisoned, it takes a -2 penalty to Strength and Dexterity-based attack rolls, skill checks, and saving throws.
Dreaming, Screaming: The creature is afflicted with a terrible delirium and fever. As long as it is poisoned, it takes a -2 penalty to Intelligence and Wisdom-based attack rolls, skill checks, and saving throws.  
Plaguebringer Prereq: Mother of Filth patron, level 10
You add Infestation and Contagion to your list of spells known. These are Warlock spells for you, and do not count towards your total spells known. You may cast Infestation as a bonus action so long as you still have temporary HP from Swarming Stalking Slither Crawling.
Contaminate Prereq: Mother of Filth patron, lvl 12
As an action, you can will the Filth to well up from the world around you, choking the ground and air. The Filth coats a 30ft radius around you with noxious gas, slick muck, and crawling things, transforming it into difficult terrain for everyone but you. Any creature besides you moving into or within the area takes 1d8 Poison damage per 5ft it travels. This supernatural muck lasts for 24 hours before fading away. You may use this ability once, regaining its use after a long rest.
Wasting Breeding Dripping Screaming Prereq: Mother of Filth patron, level 15
The lump or weight within sups upon your flesh and blood in amounts so minute you likely won’t even notice, but it’s always hungry for a more substantial meal. If you take slashing or piercing damage from an enemy adjacent to you, you can attempt to feed it by using your reaction; a Swarm of Rot Grubs erupts from the wound into the space of your attacker, and the swarm immediately uses its reaction to attack them with advantage.
This Swarm of Rot Grubs is friendly to you and any creature you designate as an ally, and will follow you telepathic commands. If left without orders, it will crawl towards the closest living enemy it can perceive to attack them, or to the closest pile of carrion within 30ft. After 1 minute passes, the swarm is too consumed by hunger and turns on itself, dying messily. Once you spawn a swarm in this way, you must complete a long rest before it can be done again.
Sire of Stagnation Prereq: Mother of Filth patron, Contaminate, lvl 20
Patches of Filth created by Contaminate last until cleaned up by an outside force, such as a massive storm, powerful magic, or the concentrated efforts of a group of people working for 12 hours. Each day the Filth patch remains, it spawns a swarm of Filthbreed Vermin (roll 1d6; 1: swarm of rats, 2: swarm of insects, 3: swarm of maggots, 4: swarm of spiders, 5: swarm of scarabs, 6: swarm of rot grubs). A Filthbreed Swarm creates a 5ft patch of Filth otherwise identical to the one spawned by Contaminate when it is slain, requiring a concentrated effort to clean that takes 4 hours.
At the DMs discretion, more powerful Filthbreed creatures may arise from especially massive patches of Filth.
Hive Mind Prereq: Mother of Filth patron, lvl 20, Vermin Lord
You may maintain control of up to 25 creatures at once with your Vermin Lord ability, and the effect lasts indefinitely until dispelled. They no longer receive saving throws.
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Fun author’s note: Going to make a more generic version of this Patron later to fit into other people’s sessions without relying on my cosmology; you can indeed just use this creature as a different spirit of pestilence and filth, but I’m also just creating a Horseman of Pestilence-esque patron later as soon as I’m more inspired which shuffles a bunch of stuff already present here around while adding some new, more obviously vile options.
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writer-and-artist27 · 4 years
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One Lostbelt King to Another
Summary: Scathach-Skadi came from a world that never saw an end and Humanity’s last hope dying alone. To see one of the creators of said worlds discard the Yaga as nothing while baiting a little one into becoming a murderer, she cannot stand for it. Not when said little one gave Skadi another meaning to the word “love.”
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Note: Inspired by this comic and how Skadi came to my Chaldea back in Epic of Remnant. Roughly based on my experience going into the Grand Battle of Lostbelt 1, where Skadi and Achilles were the front-liners on my team to beat Anastasia, well... Writing this felt good.
And, hey, since I’m publishing this just when I finished Lostbelt 2 and finally ascended Skadi to her final form, I’d like to think this is a small thank you to the purple-haired Caster who came to Chaldea when she was needed the most. This is also based off of a headcanon that Leo had given me once, where my Skadi came to me before any version of me encountered the Lostbelts, so she saw a doomed future. Thus, this story happens.
For those not in the know, this oneshot is a distant sequel to all my previous Fate/Grand Order works, and giant spoiler warning for the ending of Lostbelt 1 and certain plot elements of Lostbelt 2. 
Dedicated to @withanina​, who’s seen me through my own journey in this very tumultuous mobile game. 
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Patxi had fallen first, his snout buried in the snow and a smile stuck to his dead face. Blood was already staining the white snow red, and no one said anything except for the occasional sob from the Chaldean Master. 
It would’ve been the perfect time to strike.
But before anyone could say anything, a rune was already writing itself into the cold Russian air. Kadoc could faintly make out the purple shimmer that read destruction before Anastasia was being thrown back, and he felt himself scream before he could hear it.
“ANASTASIA!” 
He didn’t realize how painful it was to hold up his Command Spells for supporting his Servant until she appeared with a gust of cold wind in front of Humanity’s last Master.
It was supposed to be impossible.
Vy, a simple foolish girl who shouldn’t have amounted to anything, shouldn’t have had that Servant come to her aid. That Servant should have been in Ophelia’s Lostbelt over in Scandinavia. Not in Russia, not here. She shouldn’t have been helping a girl who was fighting for Proper Human History.
“You…” Anastasia was just as shocked too, if her wide eyes were any indication. “You are a Lostbelt King. You shouldn’t be here.”
Scathach-Skadi simply brushed some snow off her purple dress as Vy slowly stood up from her knees, tears in her eyes. “Skadi…sama?”
“Either I have lost my hearing or I must have heard something insignificant. Nonetheless, I am here.” Skadi turned her back on them and Kadoc grit his teeth. She was — she was underestimating Anastasia. She was underestimating him, Kadoc Zemlupus, as an opponent in favor of focusing on the weaker, crybaby Master. What was going on here? Why was she— 
Mash Kyrielight let out a shaky breath. “Skadi-san, you—” 
Skadi sighed. “Hm. You seem to have found yourself in another troubling situation, little one. Your shield maiden has certainly grown tired.” No one in the cold area missed how the Lostbelt Servant’s voice softened in Vy’s direction as she brushed her ponytail back past her shoulders. “Allow me to help you once more, especially in defeating an insect who dares call herself a Tsar.” 
“Insect...!?” Kadoc could see Anastasia bristle before he could feel it in his hands through her shoulders, and she clutched Viy to her chest. “How dare you call me an insect! You shouldn’t be fighting for Proper Human History!” 
“You certainly act like an insect, along with your pitiful sight of a Master, Tsaritza.” Skadi sighed again, reaching out to Vy with one hand to help bring her back to her feet and steady her. “How very much like a mere rat to not even know what you have follied in. To know I share a former title with you is now a burden of shame on my shoulders that I feel the great need to brush away.” Skadi then shook her head. The motion was almost like a mother disappointed with her child. “Who I side with is none of your business.”
Great. Another nutcase in Vy’s favor. 
A single tear rolled down Vy’s cheek as she continued to stare up at the Servant in front of her. What a fool. “Um… Skadi-sama?”
“Not that honorific, little one,” Skadi said without skipping a beat, briefly turning around to press one gentle hand against Vy’s head, patting her hair. Her voice had softened all over again. “‘-san’ is sufficient. ‘Skadi-san.’ Otherwise, please do not force yourself any more. You have done enough for now.”
“But— But I—” 
Kadoc felt himself go silent once Skadi reached over to press a soft kiss to the top of Vy’s hair. Kyrielight gasped, Kadoc felt bile start to climb up his throat. What the fuck am I seeing right now? 
Anastasia hugged Viy tighter to herself once Skadi stepped back, and by then, Kadoc could clearly make out the horrible, ugly red that stained Vy’s cheeks. “Sk-Skadi-san?”
“Good child. Now stand back.” The Lostbelt Servant smiled before slowly turning to meet Kadoc’s eyes. And, for the first time in his life, Kadoc felt a shiver travel up his spine. “I will handle this.”
If there was a descriptor for “godly bloodlust,” then perhaps the dictionaries in Lostbelt histories should have included Scathach-Skadi’s name. 
“You vile Crypter,” Skadi whispered vehemently, raising her wand. “How dare you traumatize one of my children and give so many others false hope.”
“False? How is it false when—”
“It is false when these lines of history are doomed to die, vermin,” Skadi hissed. Without a single ounce of hesitation, Skadi then pushed her ponytail back to write another rune in the air, clearly one that was Primordial, and Kadoc raised his hand without thinking. “To give the people of these Lostbelts false hope of living alone in victory is a crime deserving of divine punishment. You made all of us think we could live again in a miracle. But no. We were all doomed from the very beginning, even if the Trees of Emptiness grew, and you dared to make us believe that we could survive. You deserve far more than divine punishment.” 
Kadoc wasn’t expecting the newly made rune to go to Vy and Kyrielight of all people. He should’ve expected it, but for some reason, his legs couldn’t move. The Ortinax armor glowed a soft purple hue, accentuating the shock in Kyrielight’s eyes transforming into grim, fierce determination as she then ran to place her shield in front of her silent Master. “Senpai, please stay behind me. Everything will be alright, I-I promise. I’m here.” Kyrielight then threw her head towards the towering purple-haired Caster. “Skadi-san?”
“Shield maiden, protect the little one for me,” Skadi said softly, shaking her head. Her wand was raised, poised to write in the air again. “I have some insects I must swat.”
“R-Roger that, Skadi-san!” 
“…I don’t understand. My Master is doing the right thing in trying to raise the Tree of Emptiness and expanding our Russian Lostbelt. You should know this since you are — were a Lostbelt Servant, Scathach-Skadi.” Anastasia said finally, narrowing her eyes at the opposing queen. “You should know just as well as I do of the responsibility that comes with trying to prevail with our worlds.”
“Do not call me by that title when I have already lost my world,” Skadi snapped darkly, and this time, Anastasia stopped. Kadoc felt his blood freeze too because the Russian air seemed all the more colder. What did she just say? “I lost my subjects — my people, my Scandinavia — no thanks to you insects. Surtr destroyed everything with his flames and you Crypters did not even care in my reality. You left me — all of us — to die.” Skadi shook her head, waving her free hand to create the beginnings of a giant icicle behind her. “It was only when I lost everything to the flames that I found another chance. It was through my folly that I found this little one in the wreckage of Chaldea.” 
This time, Skadi didn’t turn back to meet Vy’s eyes. The fighting stance Skadi was in didn’t allow for that. Kadoc could easily read the emotions on Vy’s face, from the awe to surprise to tired resignation, and even then, there was a touched glimmer in those brown eyes behind the long brown hair and black glasses that had him reeling. 
“I had thought that I knew what it meant to love in that miracle of my Scandinavia. To kill and to love. But I was wrong. You all were wrong.” Skadi nodded to herself, closing her eyes as she turned back to face the battlefield. She pressed her free hand to her chest. “Love is to care for others outside of yourself. Love is asking what one can do to help, even when you are weak and unsure. Love is enjoying every day of life as it comes in the world. Love is—”
Selfless. 
“Love is making sea-salt ice cream together and laughing over the failures,” Skadi finished.
Kadoc blinked. Anastasia did too, lowering Viy. “…What?”
“Of course you two wouldn’t understand. You gave up your humanity just to make this long journey to validate your own selves. How pitiful.” Skadi wrote another few runes in the air with her wand, the purple glow accentuating the glare in her violet red eyes. The giant icicle behind her head seemed to grow all the more massive. “Making a nightmare of others’ lives, killing more than 7 billion people in reality, and then villainizing the one girl who is trying to give a form of salvation to all living this hell? Disgusting. Not even worth my time and love.” 
Kadoc bit the inside of his cheek enough to taste metal. “Why you—”
“That is enough, Skadi. Even if you are a former Lostbelt Servant, I will not tolerate you insulting my Master,” Anastasia interrupted, brushing her cape behind her. Viy was already emitting a dark aura. “You will all die here.”
“No,” Skadi smiled for the first time Kadoc had seen, and Kadoc grit his teeth once his eyes suddenly focused in on the green hair and orange scarf hovering behind the purple-haired mage. No way. “You both will perish under my heel. I am not the only one here to put you out of your misery.” 
No way.
Vy wasn’t supposed to be able to summon Heroic Spirits bordering on the powers of Gods. She wasn’t strong enough. 
So then— 
“Both our heels,” Achilles of Greece suddenly interrupted, and with that green spear shouldered between his neck and shining gold armor, the smirk on his face matched Skadi’s smile as he raised one fist in the air towards Kadoc’s direction. “Because you two did something worse than give people false hope.”
“Indeed, famous Hero of the Trojan War,” Skadi hummed, the Runes in front of her immediately flying over to the allied Rider, “they follied more than they thought.”
Achilles rolled his eyes, lightly elbowing Skadi in the side once the Runes stuck to his chest armor and disappeared, and Kadoc couldn’t believe his eyes. These two Servants — they were familiar? A Lostbelt Servant and a weak Servant from Proper Human History — they could be friendly? “Cut the cutesy language, Skadi. We know what we have to do.”
Vy gripped her hands behind all the Servants as her Command Spells glowed against her black Mystic Code, tears still in her eyes. 
“Of course. May you take the first blood, Achilles?” Skadi said softly. “Teach these insects how they could not have prevented the Incineration of Humanity with their follies.”
“Sure.” Achilles then grinned and leapt forward, and Kadoc found himself yelling out once the back end of that same green spear was nearly in his face if not for Anastasia. “You two jerks have a lot to answer for, y’know.” The words were said casually, almost too casually when considering the amount of strength being used to handle the spear so close to Kadoc’s person and Anastasia’s pained grunts under the weight. 
“I-I have no idea what you are prattling about, Hero,” Anastasia growled. “Viy—” 
“Oh? I’m wounded, miss Tsar.” Achilles then kicked Anastasia hard and Kadoc felt himself flying too once Anastasia collided with him. If not for the Russian winds and dodging the sudden ice projectile coming towards him, he might not have heard it.
“You hurt our Master. Our kind, workaholic Master who should’ve rested back at home with her family once Goetia disappeared. But instead of helping her, you took her home away from home in Chaldea and hurt Mash by killing the only familial figure she had left. So, what happens after this is simple.” Kadoc clutched Anastasia to his chest once they landed in the snow. Achilles then put his fingers in his mouth and whistled. Kadoc could feel the blood start to rush to his head once that chariot came with the fanfare of loud green lightning and horse neighing.
Noble Phantasm. Shit.
“You hurt our family, you die.” 
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[Image Description: A screenshot of a team lineup in Fate/Grand Order, simply titled “Front Line.” The Servants in the lineup include, from left to right: Scathach Skadi, Achilles, Marie Antoinette, Chevalier d’Eon, and Mash Kyrielight in her Ortinax costume. End Description.]
This is the least I can do for the Servants who helped me through some of the hardest fights I’ve had emotionally. This isn’t a full replication of the team I used when going into fighting Kadoc and Anastasia, but the main players of Skadi, Mash, and Achilles are here at least. 
Let’s go save the world, everyone. Thank you for staying.
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Vermin Tamer (Cavalier Archetype)
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 If you grew up fascinated by insects, arachnids, or other things that crawl, you probably fantasized about being able to shrink down, or alternatively, grow one to massive sizes, and see them from their level.
The idea of riding on physically-improbable giant arthropods is a classic trope in fantasy, particularly in regions or settings where more conventional mounts are impossible or just non-existent, so naturally, one would want to emulate this in Pathfinder. Alas, in Pathfinder, the vast majority of vermin mounts are poorly-sized for most medium player characters, which is where today’s archetype comes into play!
Vermin tamers, as the name suggests, specialize in vermin mounts, though it’s more accurate to say they specialize in mounts found beneath the ground in the Darklands, or Underdark, or whatever you wish to call your secondary world of subterranean delights and dangers.
Of course, if you wish to expand this list to include other sorts of vermin companions, by all means, though for balance issues, I’d limit access to those with fly speeds until after 7th level, or at least those that can fly agilely.
Regardless of what limitations you put on this class, these cavern-dwelling cavalry make use of the unique advantages of vermin mounts, as well as mitigate their weaknesses.
Side note: The art for this archetype depicts a dwarf in full plate riding a rhinoceros beetle and wielding a lance, and it is just, the best thing.
 The cavalier gains access to the vermin mount at first level, but this is more complicated than a simple swap-out, for if the vermin companion in question is too small for the rider normally, they train to ride it while lying across it’s body, instead of sitting, redistributing their weight to accommodate for their undersized mount. Those that are the right size though instead train them to carry the similarly-distributed weight of light barding.
Vermin companions have a tendency of being able to climb up walls, and to take advantage of this, these riders have learned the best ways to strap in so they can remain mounted while climbing up walls and onto ceilings, getting used to the sensations.
These giant creatures do not move like a conventional mount, and these cavaliers capitalize on it when making their challenges, becoming harder to hit as long as they stay mounted.
Do you want to ride around on a giant bug, slug, arachnid, crustacean, or perhaps even a cave lizard? This archetype gives you the strengths of the cavalier class with a few assets for making the most of your unusual mount. Naturally, if you’re taking such a mount you probably want a mounted build, but beyond that it’s your call how much you wish to invest in it.
 Giant bug mounts are easily one of the coolest things to ride around on, right alongside dragons and other mythical creatures, so I’m very glad this archetype exists. The given flavor has the expectation of the darklands, but anywhere where giant creatures of the vermin type might have similar mounts if they figure out how to tame them.
  All sorts of strange things dwell beneath the streets of Starburn, the City of Alchemy, not just hazardous oozes like alchemical ooze swarms, but also giant vermin mutated by the runoff from the many experiments within. Sewer-dwelling folk like ratfolk sometimes tame the beasts to use as mounts when carrying trade goods in and out of the city.
 The Hardshell Guard is a dwarven company of giant beetle riders that protect their homeland atop sturdy and powerful steeds, and hold fierce competitions to determine what species and breed of beetle is superior. The rivalry between the Stag and Hercules clans in particular is legendary.
 Few took them seriously when the merfolk declared war on the coastal city of Moracin, but few are laughing now when the navy vessels were capsized from below, and merfolk archers riding immense crabs marched up the beach as the sky darkened with magical storms.
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paperanddice · 6 years
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Arbeyach and Spawn
There’s only a single arch-devil that I’ll be doing out of order right now, and it’s Arbeyach, the Prince of Swarms. Conceptually similar to Akyishigal, in that it’s a powerful fiend with a domain covering insect life, but Arbeyach’s domain and power are much more significant. Swarms of all kinds rather than a single form of insect, and coming in at level 21 instead of 12. Where Akyishigal could be considered to be rising in power and influence though, Arbeyach is instead slowly on the way out.
The fluff for Arbeyach posits him as a cloud of vermin spawned by Beelzebub to devour the first mortal souls to arrive in the Hells, merging with them and becoming a significant power. Arbeyach has a much more rigid, you could say restrictive, view of the multiverse than even his fellow arch-devils. He makes no attempts to corrupt and gain the worship of mortals, focusing instead on active destruction of everything they are. The disorder present in mortal existence is too enraging for him to accept existing in any way, and this incredibly limiting view has resulted in his slow descent from power. Expelled from his spot under Beelzebub, he now weakens as his authority and relevance fall away and unless he makes some kind of change one of his rivals may find the opening to remove him entirely.
Arbeyach’s stats don’t look that impressive at a glance, though it may be something that requires some proper play to get the balance of it. He has quite a few resistances and immunities to consider, along with stellar saving throws plus legendary resistances and magic resistance, so using almost any form of magic against him should be very difficult. His hit points and AC are low for this level though, and his damage output per round outside of spells is pretty middling. Some of his spells are very significant, though he doesn’t really have enough variety to be a truly devastating spellcasting foe, and nearly all of them require concentration to function. His multiattack routine nets an average of 62 damage per round, a significant amount of it in poison damage, but at least he sets off an aura that ignores poison resistance and immunity. It also forces disadvantage on saving throws to resist the poisoned condition or poison damage, but I feel like giving creatures that don’t start with resistance or immunity a vulnerability instead wouldn’t be amiss in the effects of it.
His vermin breath is a very strong attack though, and may be a significant portion of what allows him to compete with PCs near his level. Averaging 54 damage per person caught in a 120 foot long, 10 foot wide line, and forces a high DC save against a curse is pretty nice. The summoned swarm is fairly insignificant at this level, unless summoned right beside a very low AC character. Expect it to be melted before it’s next action if it poses the slightest threat to anyone though. Any targets of this breath will be within his aura of virulence, so no resisting the damage of this effect either.
I think I’d need to run him in a proper battle against a group to get a true sense of how tough he is in a fight, but with the experiences I’ve had with even level 11 groups being able to put out very high damage against a high AC opponent in a very short time frame I’m a little iffy on his ability to survive long enough to use any of these features. Watching 300 hit points behind AC 20 go down in a single round to a party of 5 has had an impact on me. The fluff and ideas behind the mechanics are fun and interesting though, so I’d definitely see plenty of potential to use him in a game. Maybe tailor the hit points to what your group is able to put out.
Arbeyach has his own spawn, and the very first time I read the stat block I thought it was a copy of Akyishgal’s spawn. A quick review showed that it is distinct, but the basics line up quite a bit. Similar attacks, similar ability to speak with and control insect swarms, both have an ability to summon swarms, though the mechanics of that one differ. They’re a little less significant in battle alongside their master than the spawn of Akyishigal, since a party capable of taking on a level 21 legendary foe can deal with a few level 5 minions, but a party that’s struggling with the boss might not appreciate the distraction, or even just a few points of damage here and there.
The blood of an arch-devil must be spilled by a powerful artifact weapon if the plan to destroy it is to succeed. Many potential targets are on the table, but Arbeyach has several aspects that make him a viable target for the action. He is more powerful than many other arch-devils, but unlike them is on the outskirts of Hell’s bureaucracy and thus under fewer protections. Any plan to attack him is still very risky, as the arch-devil is an incredibly dangerous being and rarely vulnerable to a simple attack. It is very unlikely that the group would be able to slay him, simply making the needed attack to spill the blood and escaping will be challenge enough. Afterwards though, any who harmed the Prince of Swarms may find themselves with a powerful, vengeful foe hunting them.
A lone goblin staggers into the center of an adventuring company’s camp, suffering from a terrible stab wound that seems infected. She tells them that she’s the last surviving member of the Skitter-Burrow tribe. Their tribe had learned how to tame and train giant ants using queen ant pheromones, but suddenly this creature found its way into their burrow and simply turned the ants against the tribe. It killed all the other goblins, and is now turning the giant ants into a force to do more than simply raid the nearby towns and trade roads.
Arbeyach is setting in motion a plan to prove that he has not lost significance in the struggle over the material plane. Dozens of his spawn marshal armies of giant insects, pushing them to expand their hives to incredible size and spread over the landscape. Massive ant colonies spread underground, while bee and wasp hives settle in specific locations where they wouldn’t normally, skirmishing with humanoid settlements as they push into unnatural living spaces. A map of these spreads would show that they’re forming a massive rune over much of a continent, ant tunnels making up the strokes and the hives located at key junctures and other points. If the rune is finished, the minds of every single vermin on the continent will be directly connected with Arbeyach and he will be able to direct hundreds of millions, possibly billions, of vermin into an unstoppable swarm to devour every single beast and creature, utterly destroying all non-swarm life. Killing the individual hives of insects will not be enough to end this plan, as Arbeyach has enough spawn to continue forcing the issue, and he only has to succeed once to destroy all life. Instead, a strike force will need to go for the Prince of Swarms himself, isolated as he is with hundreds of his spawn and other allies directing efforts on the material plane.
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ssfpubliclibrary · 4 years
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Book Review
Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka
Review by Kellan
Although written almost a century ago, The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka remains as an effective piece of commentary regarding society, expectations, and individualism. Kafka, known for his surrealist, unorthodox ideas and artistic style, wrote a piece of literature that is bizarre in premise but grounded in themes and conflict. In the book, he voices his beliefs on the downfall of man in modern society and how it removes the values of humanity in all of us through a narrative about a giant insect.
Summary: Metamorphosis tells the story of Gregor Samsa, a traveling salesman, who wakes up to find himself transformed into a giant insect. His monstrous form inhibits his physical abilities and prevents him from going to work as the breadwinner of the family. The family discovers his condition and locks him up in his room, giving him what food he needs to survive as they consider what to do about their situation. 
Plot: The structure of the novella is an unconventional one since it starts with the most climactic event happening in the beginning with Gregor transforming into an insect. All of the events following the beginning are the fallout of his transformation and how his family deals with him. It is slowly paced in the middle to create vivid descriptions of his room which is important for character development. Midway through the story, it could be a drag to read since much of the content are descriptions of his past and his association with the environment. Kafka needed to sacrifice pacing for better descriptions to create better thematic connections. Luckily, the story is split up into 3 parts which help with the pacing issue that most modern readers might face. The slower parts of the story also help contrast with the more intense parts so there is a good balance of calm and intense sequences. Overall, if you are attracted by the premise by a man turning into an insect at the beginning of the book, it would help carry you through the story. The slow pace may be a hindrance to some readers, but it is essential to the themes, world-building, and character development of the plot. - 7.5/10
Characters: This is where the novella really shines. Gregor Samsa is introduced as a hard-working salesman but was unfortunately metamorphosed into an insect. His first thought after realizing his new form was how he was going to work. For such a weird event, he acts like it was like a normal inconvenience. The theme of being chained by expectations is embodied in this scene and all of the moments with Gregor. As he starts acting more like an insect, his family comes in to remove his possessions from his room, causing him to defend his property. The possessions are linked to his humanity and there is a deep irony in him acting like an animal to protect his past identity of a human. Some can relate to him for being devoid of human connections since his family takes care of him to keep him alive but neglects his needs as a person. The shift in expectations as the breadwinner to a vermin takes a toll on the whole family, exemplifying Kafka’s intent of commentating on expectations. Another major character was Grete, his sister, who had an interesting character arc throughout the parts. At first, she was the only one that treated Gregor kindly by feeding him and being concerned for him. Gregor built a relationship with her in his current form and trusted her for her early actions. However, she suggested taking out the furniture to allow Gregor more space to roam around the room. As stated earlier, Gregor disliked his possessions being taken away, displaying a discrepancy between the beliefs of the two characters. The interaction could also symbolize how humans are often disconnected from one another on a deeper level, creating misunderstandings that drive us further apart. Grete also conformed to society's expectations of Gregor by treating him more like an animal as the story progressed, showing society’s power of changing the ideologies of man. Every other character plays a smaller but important role as different viewpoints for society as Kafka creates realistic characters for an imaginative story. -8/10
Content: The novella is full of hidden meaning that Kafka masterfully weaves in his narrative. As already mentioned, there is a major theme of expectations and society. The themes are the major highlights of the story and it makes you think about what Kafka actually writes about. However, major details could be missed through skimming or light reading, but an observant reader could pick up on the details. The shock value of the beginning helped bring the story to fruition and help support the commentary on modern society later on. Every detail connects with the major themes and Kafka does not waste any space writing something unnecessary. Each detail could be interpreted differently and could confuse the reader at times. If you enjoy thinking deeply in literature or want to read a still-relevant commentary on how modern society ruined the individual, this read will not disappoint. -9/10
Style: Since this novella was originally written in German a century ago, there are multiple translations of the story that might create different experiences between readers who read different editions. The translations try to be faithful to Kafka’s original work, so expect to find old-fashioned diction and syntax. It is readable for modern readers to understand but it is recommended to stop every once a while to gather your thoughts and comprehension. It could be a drag to read and might disinterest those who are not into reading old literature. Also, the odd structure of the story calls for unconventional styles of writing that may take readers a while to adjust to. However, Kafka is effective in using the right diction at the right time to create a style unique to himself that plays with your feelings. -7/10
Enjoyability: The reason I got hooked on this book is because of its weird premise which I’m a sucker for. The themes and the interpretations I discovered while reading made it even more enjoyable since I could create meaning from the novella that can apply in my life. It was tough coming to my conclusions on the deeper meaning of the story but I think it paid off with all the interpretations I could come up with. Initially, I disliked the slow parts but I built a greater appreciation for it with how many details Kafka can hide in the mundane areas. It also pushed how far I could analyze a piece of work and how it could affect a readers’ mentality. I want to also add that this novella is referenced in different media many times such as in movies, other novels, art, jokes, and on the internet. After reading the novella, you appreciate how big it impacted modern culture even 100 years later. -8/10
Overall, I enjoyed reading this book for its weird premise and the themes that were expressed throughout the novel. The characters fill their roles nicely as being different views in society. Every detail has relevance and it could be interpreted in many ways. My only gripes with it are being slowly paced in the middle and the old fashioned writing style that might give some modern readers trouble. It is a novella so it is a shorter read, perfect thinking material for a busy student. In conclusion, if you like realistic themes and characters with an unconventional premise and storytelling style, this is an enjoyable read that tackles the shortcomings of the modern world and human condition. After reading this story, I would recommend Tyler Knox’s Kockroach since it is a reimagining of The Metamorphosis, but a cockroach turning into a human as a twist and discovering the nuances of humanity.
Plot- 7.5
Characters- 8
Content - 9
Style- 7
Enjoyability- 8
Total - 7.9
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tomerasange · 5 years
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Chapter 10: Wyvern Tor
“Your punishment for the actions taken today will be significant and swift. You are hereby banned from the arena, and you will be expelled from the walls of this city.” “Damn your consequences! I am here for victory, and you have stolen it from me!” “We have rules you must abide by.” “I will have my justice and vengeance. I swear my life on this.”
As I awoke, the words of a memory reeling in my head, I could see my effects in the room sustained by the morning air. The night hung on my conscious person, and I arose to greet the day.
My hair was starting to fray and crosshatch from its standard curtain of poise, and my personal opinion was the sooner I could find a measure of peace, the sooner I could attend to my appearance once more. Somehow never to know peace in the traditional sense again, I heard a clatter and a boom from below my location. I could only guess to the reason, and I dressed and descended.
In the tavern’s main room, Urnig had awoken and in a fit of action was eyeing up a half-orc, who was acting in earnest. In a ceremonial beating of the chest, Urnig challenged the half-orc to a contest of might. They had locked arms in a test of strength, only for Urnig to find himself clocked upside the head and driven into the floor. Epide and Artemis sat off to the side with breakfast cheering on the scrum as Fardahr dug into his plate of humble meats. The barkeep was in a row over this impromptu melee, crying out, “Why must you have this dispute in my bar? Can’t this be held outside?”
In a moment of lucidity, I decided against involving myself with the hoi polloi, lest I suffer a deck against the cheek. I walked towards the front of the inn and tried to redirect the poor barkeep’s attention with a nonemotional response. “Just allow them to have this moment, darling. Now, onto breakfast. I think a coffee and... perhaps a light serving of bread.”
The barkeep only shook his head in disbelief, and turned to his work. As I proceeded to survey the ongoing fight, Urnig went for another attack. The half-orc blocked heartily again, and ended it with a punctuated blow. Both Epide and Artemis were stunned that Urnig, the mountainous sorcerer whose violence met no quarter, was fell by this newcomer. I walked over, silver tongue at the ready, to engage with our guest.
“My, my. Quite the showing, there. Absolutely powerful. The name is Tomera Sange. And what might your name be?” “Rokk” “Pleasure to meet you, kind sir. I must ask, however... why did you choose to fight our friend?” “Challenged me” “I see, I see. I must ask, out of sheer curiosity, what your purpose is in Phandalin.” “Lord’s Alliance sent me. I’m your backup.”
A chill and sudden flattening of mood swept though me in a perhaps comedic sense. While I did find another ally in our party perfectly acceptable, to think the Alliance was growing tired of our supposed lack of results. Perhaps they were worried that Glasstaff’s betrayal might occur once more. Perhaps they were still concerned about the safety of Gundren, whose location still evaded us. Perhaps Sildar had been so concerned with other incidents that his report read in listed form cut down to only needed details, like the events of a warfront, and failed to acknowledge we might have no need for backup.
I kept a diplomatic face. “Ah, yes. The Lord’s Alliance! Wonderful, darling. As a representative, I will see fit that you are acquainted well into our group.”
Rokk only nodded in curt acknowledgement and sat down with Artemis and Epide. Urnig, still reeling from the fight, stood up and dusted himself off, content with the results. At this time, Aurora joined us downstairs. With the group rejoined, we greeted our newest company member:
ROKK, the Half-Orc Fighter. He wielded a wooden club with a measure of unbridled confidence, and possessed a fighting style quite unlike mine. A brutish and physically taxing art, he seemed more adept at taking blows than most of my compatriots, let alone my own frame. While we were deciding towards our day’s itinerary, Artemis took a vested interest in talking with him, wanting to know of his exploits.
We sought out the decision for our next exploit. Given we weren’t any closer to discovering the location of Wave Echo Cave, and a travel towards Thundertree seemed like it could wait for us, we agreed that clearing the Triboar Trail would do us and Phandalin the most good. The seasons were turning a colder sorts, and soon winter would come to the continent.
As I examined a map of the Sword Coast, I realized this would be quite advantageous for my reputation. Clearing the Triboar Trail would allow supplies to flow between the North and East and Neverwinter, and in addition give the chieftain of Triboar more weight in the continent’s economy by superseding the high and low Dessarin Valley and Long Trail via the town of Beliard, another frontier town even smaller than Phandalin. Having convened with Triboar’s leader, this would give me a great reputation of one who secured the trade routes.
We set off for town and upon closer examination of the distance to travel, it would take roughly a half day’s travel to the settlement of Wyvern Tor, where most activity was occurring on the trail.
Aurora made the initial suggestion. “Perhaps it would be a boon for our purposes to rent a team of horses and cart for travel. If we come across a lode or treasure.” “So, a visit to Barthen’s Provisions before we leave?” “Would be in our favor.”
As we approached the storehouse, the workers were hard pressed at work unloading supplies for the town, having no more concern for raids by the Redbrands. Barthen was in his store when we arrived. “Aye, welcome back! I’d like to thank you again for your work on the town. You’ve given me and a great deal of people a good boost of confidence. Now, what will you be needin’ today?” Aurora handled the transaction. “We are in the need of a team of horses and a cart to pull. Off to Wyvern Tor to halt the orc raids, and we might happen across some interesting pieces. At the very least, we’ll be given transportation.” “Smart on you to do that. I’ll have the lads hitch a team for you, and that’d run you... twenty gold to rent. In addition, I’d expect additional fees in the case of damages to the cart or horses. Bottom line and all that.” “Of course.” Aurora looked back to me with a knowing stare, and it occurred to me we were in the most advantageous position financially to rent the cart. We payed our share, and awaited outside for the cart.
The midday sun hung high above the town as we set off North. At the helm was Fardahr, driving the horses. Urnig and Rokk took to covering the sides of the cart. Epide, Artemis, Aurora, and I sat in back. I thought back to my first travels toward Phandalin, nearly a week’s time removed from my current situation. And yet, the ease of the ride brought back a similar fondness. The sun and peace let me rest my eyes for a moment.
As we neared the Wyvern Tor, the cart jolted to a halt. I was awoken to the sight of Fardahr looking off in the distance. “What’s the matter, Fardahr?” “Can’t tell. I’m seeing odd movement up ahead.”
I readied my sword in preparation, only to be nearly thrown from the cart as the horses bucked. Something terrified the creatures and the cart took off. Fardahr still at the helm, I had to make a quick decision, and in the confusion I jumped from the wagon. Thinking the wooded area would have a measure of soft loam, I was immediately hoist by my hubris as the ground gave way to a hardened soil. My shoulder hit the ground with a thud and I tried to gingerly ascend to my feet. As I tried to scan for what Fardahr had detected, I could see in the tree line to the left of the road that weapons had been drawn.
As I ran ahead, rapier drawn, I could see Urnig and Artemis pinned in a swarm of vile creatures. They appeared as giant insects, flying and encircling with rapidly beating wings and bodies filled with claret, a long and sharp proboscis the instrument of torture. Aurora had taken her harp from her side and dipped behind a covering in preparation to unleash her magic. Seeing me, she exclaimed, “What a situation we’ve found ourselves in!” I couldn’t agree more, as several of the vermin flew into our vicinity.
From behind, Fardahr wielded his crossbow and attempted to catch one of them before it collided with us. The bowstring snapped with authority, but the arrow soared wide, as the insects continued on our trajectory. Aurora met one in combat, but was quickly stabbed through the arm.
As I set my eyes on one of the smaller blights, the creature lost its height and collapsed to the ground. Turning about, I could see a familiar figure standing no more than six inches tall, floating in a bag of detritus and odors. Epide had cast a spell of sleep on the local fauna, making our task that much easier. Unfortunately, this had the added consequence of putting Fardahr immediately out of commission. This matter would have to be attended to before our eventual conquest against the orc population.
Having seen another of the flying creatures darting into my vision, I stuck the rapier through its carapace, instantly dispatching the creature. It was in this sudden attempt at skewering my foe I remembered the creature was filled to the brim with the blood and sinew of local creatures, and my blade was immediately coated with the viscous red. Gently, I set about removing the still twitching corpse from its perch, which proved simple given the base anatomy of this particular specimen. Still, the effort was disgusting, and I would need to clean my blade in the aftermath.
As the fight progressed, I could see Rokk pulling his measure of the fight. With a unheard-of measure of dexterity, he plucked one of the insects from mid-air and proceeded to bash it into a nearby tree. The resulting mess caused that portion of the field to be drenched in claret.
In this moment, I sought to help Aurora with the creature that had stabbed her through, but before I could react, she had used her rapier to silence the creature. With a taut and simple “No”, acknowledging the corpse that lay at her feet, she rose, ready to dive back into the fray. 
Urnig, seeing his sparring partner take the opportunity to destroy one of the insects with brute force, thought it fair to in turn unleash his magic savagery on one of the insects that had flown into his range. With a fist that rivaled my own skull in size, he grabbed the creature, and cast a blast of magic, slamming the beast over his knee and producing a similar explosion of blood that coated his entire body. Perhaps my time with Urnig had dulled my senses to abhorrent violence, or perhaps I was allowed predisposition, as such from my history of battle, but a peculiar sense of calm washed over my person knowing his simple savagery might win us the day.
Our halfling companion Artemis sought out one of the insects in the swarm she was entangled in and with a further brutal showing used her own rapier to cleave one of them in twain. This was further compiled upon as she used her boot to grind the body into the ground, effectively rendering any postmortem movement silent.
With most of the assault dispersed, Epide took this time to attempt to wake the sleeping Fardahr. The dwarf slept fitfully, a loud commotion coming from his person. A few slaps across the face proved incapable of rousing the man, so Epide, in a fit of complete madness from my perspective, dumped his floating bag of water, his method of transport and container of various corpse trophies, onto the sleeping victim. Fardahr arose from his sleep and immediately at the presence of the stench retched his breakfast twice over.
Epide was not complete with his effort of madness, as he began to run about, leaping onto one of the already dispatched insect and ripping its nose off in an effort to find a suitable weapon. This nose was, in essence, a shortsword to Epide, and I applaud his improvisation, but still condemn his method.
Having now reduced our quarry to two remaining foes, one of which remained asleep from Epide’s spell, I stepped toward the tree line and wielded my blade with a flourish to run the insect through. A costly mistake, as the blade fail to land the killing blow. Rokk, at this point next to my own person, to his chance to land the blow to conclude this fight. Unceremoniously, he missed the swing of his club, and we were both stunned in silence. Which gave way to a tirade of both Rokk and I unsure why this creature was not dead. Artemis, for her part, began rolling on the ground peeling with laughter at our misfortune. While I don’t recall what was said between Rokk and I, the resulting commotion might have been the triggering incident to cause what came next.
As Artemis lie in tears of joy over this sight of incompetence and Urnig dispatched another of the insects for good measure by slamming it into the same tree Rokk had previously used, a sudden rumble from the ground arose. In the woods to my left, the sound of a roar shook the air. It filled me with an oncoming sense of horror, as the very structure of my body was suddenly shaking with the reverberations of the air.
I turned to see a massive form rise out of the wood. I only had to notice the creature’s face to know what matter of violent beast had been summoned by the commotion. This was an owlbear, a creature born of the fiery imagination of lore and reality, a great beast that many knights of yore have slain and few have tamed. To now come upon its form was a measure of daunting I was not prepared to witness.
With a grown sense of immediacy, Fardahr loosed a bolt from his crossbow, only to see the projectile snap against the beak of the owlbear, doing no damage to the beast. If any result occurred, it was the owlbear’s humor becoming perturbed, and I found myself face to face with the creature.
Before I could make my attack against it, the owlbear reared back its claw and swung, connecting with my body. The two entry wounds where I had been impaled with javelins days earlier immediately opened, and as I was thrown against a tree, I could see my blood began to pool on my attire, the red staining my white under attire through. It took all of my fortitude to remain awake in this sense, as I saw the others begin to take their measures in retaliation.
Epide, though small in stature, raised his hands in defiance. Again, a vibration shook the area, as the ground turned in on itself. Below the owlbear, the earth became near impossible terrain, and Epide jumped for joy at the sight of the temporarily confused creature. Taking advantage of this distraction, Rokk took the chance to summon a well of energy and his eyes became a visage of death. With the fighting spirit of a whole regiment, he unleashed a vicious assault on the owlbear, yet the creature held firm.
As I roused myself to wake, I found myself cornered by the last of the insects, with the owlbear’s back turned. Were I to choose a target, it would have to be one that did not pose immediate threat to my wellbeing upon a strike. I lunged in desperation at the insect, as it dodged frightfully out of my grasp. I was beset by fear, violent and tremendous, and I stabbed further still at the owlbear. Again, no luck, and I felt my arm give way to intense pain. The only measure that remained was to flee from the melee in an act of desperation. As I ran in self-preservation, I felt the warm breath of the owlbear on my back, and was met with a stab of pain as the beak wrought itself into my back.
I was safe and away for the time being, but it was clear that I would by on death’s door if struck again. I collapsed to the ground, blood now seeping throughout my clothing. From afar, I only had time to see the hand of Aurora rise up through half-closed eyes, and I felt a burst of magic run through my person. One of assurance and protection, no doubt, but inherently still my being had been compromised. All i heard in my head, ringing like the bells of a cathedral.
I am a coward
I am a coward
I am a coward
I saw Aurora raise her hand again, this time in the direction of the owlbear. With a pluck of the strings, the beast burst into a conflagration. I could not appreciate this move fully, only feel the burning sear of the flames and the rancid smell of flesh and fur alight, only further choking my senses.
Fardahr dove beside me, and with a tuck and roll let loose another bolt towards the owlbear. Striking dead center in the face, the resulting spray of bodily fluids mingled with the flames, setting the face in a permanent shriek as the body collapsed and lay still. I hadn’t the will to cheer or whoop in excitement. Aurora immediately extinguished the fire and set about the body along with Epide. He later gathered the corpses of the insects for his vile machinations.
As I lay there, blood still pooling about me, I felt the warm touch of a guiding hand. I was not unconscious but still beyond any measure of good health, and the divine spell Fardahr cast on me aroused me from my state. My blood began to retreat back into my person, and my wounds were sealed in a process that despite its effect did not hurt or cut with pain. I sat up, with Fardahr holding my shoulder. “You gave me a scare, young man. Are you okay?”
I shook my head awake, my hair a tangled mess getting into my eyes. “I am now. Thank you, Fardahr.” I stood up, groggy and unstable, but better still. Patting his shoulder in acknowledgment of service, I stood up and made my way back to the horse cart. Only to hear further retching from behind me.
Aurora was beside herself with joy at the sight of an intact owlbear. I could see her eyes alight with glee at the prospect of the clothes this pelt would divine. The feathers adorning the arms and legs were still in beautiful condition as adornments. Even the teeth could be split, separated, dried, and crafted into ivory jewelry of untold wealth. I am only keen to this as Aurora began listing these elements shortly after we loaded its corpse into the horse cart, a bit of mania overtaking her eyes in anticipation for its dissection. We were slower going, and it only aided my situation as I still felt a measure of pain while walking. At some point, we halted and I was loaded onto the driver’s perch with Fardahr, allowed to rest and recoup. It was still fitful, having to sleep some time next to the creature that nearly ended my corporeal existence.
The Wyvern Tor itself is a crevasse in the hills of the Triboar Trail, and despite utilizing this route in the tour towards Neverwinter, my caravan had stayed north of the locale, having been alerted previously by members of Triboar of the orc camp. The natural feature has held many different hosts of fauna, given it’s advantageous position when seen from the trail. As we neared the location of the tor, I first smelled the telltale signs of a campfire. We could hear two orcs posted as guards towards the mouth of a cave, with others still in the open. I received in my mind a flash of the goblin outcropping that began our time in service.
By the time the cart stopped some distance away, my injuries had been attended to, as had Aurora and Urnig. While I was clearly in better health, I couldn’t shake the feeling of horror the owlbear had beset upon me. I had never seen a beast as large nor as powerful in combat. I was deemed only useful in duels of honor and fairness. Surely, I had realize the world did not allow for such contests consistently. Surely. Yet, in the deepest hole of my mind, I felt betrayed by this turn of events and fearful still for my life.
We huddled in planning, and agreed Artemis would take the first stab at the orcs, in both a figurative and literal sense. Her size and speed combined with precision would allow a swift attack and retreat back into our party’s numbers. We lie in wait, preparing our methods of war, as Artemis clutched her daggers with pause. Then, she was off.
Across the field she tore through the grass, faster than anyone had anticipated. Rounding the circumference of the open field against the trees, she rounded the final corner and went for the orc guard on the right. In a flash, she slammed headfirst into it and cut the throat, an instant and painless death. Further still, she marked the other guard and again tore into it, a bass cry of pain ringing through the air. With a dash back, she had given us the element of surprise.
With a ravenous want, Epide saw the corpse and began to run towards it across the ground. The blood that had sprayed from the orc’s body apparently was enough to distract him, as he bathed in it like a duck bathes in a lake. Despite this horrid distraction, he still summoned the wherewithal to again form the ground anew, creating a pitfall that trapped one of the orcs.
Fardahr, having reconstituted himself from retching, began to channel a spell with a mischievous look on his face. A form of light took shape on front of him, but suddenly a look of frustration came across his demeanor. Having resigned himself, almost as if the god of his dominion came to warn against a cruel prank, he concentrated further and produced an iron brand, still wielding with an air of confidence. I was confused by the sight, but was quickly made aware of the power of a holy weapon as Fardahr hurled it towards a nearby orc, striking it clean.
Artemis, having set herself once more towards the orcs, struck the trapped orc and produced a rude gesture in its direction. Against the field, I could see more and more a chaotic, ramshackle fighting. I was still in pain. I was still terrified of the scene before me. But again, I felt magic turn to me, as Aurora cast a spell against me. I was grateful for her art, and only wished I could repay in kind her help. I grasped my bow and arrow and took aim at an orc, but my hand slipped in disorientation, ricocheting off the brand. I was lost.
Artemis again was engaged in combat, dodging and weaving with precision, all strikes against her missed. 
I’m back where I started.
Fardahr took a shot and found his mark.
Five years alone, talent wasted.
Rokk, without mercy, decapitated an orc and let a war cry.
I’ll just hope to fire my bow from afar and not get hit. This accursed weapon. It’s brought me nothing but strife.
As it looked like my group of fellow travelers were on the cusp of turning the fight and seizing victory, we were stunned to silence as a mighty roar escaped the cave. From inside, only darkness permeated. Only dank and must. Only sound escaped the cave.
And then it came.
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jinja-neko · 7 years
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Godzilla vs. Mothra 196
so, I missed last night because I got wrapped up in a project, but I don’t have to work early tomorrow, so I’m back with a drink and more Showa era shame! Prepare for the original sub of Godzilla vs. Mosura, because if a movie is going to be bad, it should be bad on it’s own merits and not because of poor dubbing, dangit.
- Ah the days when all the credits had to be at the beginning of the movie.
- So so far we’ve gotten lots of shots of stormy seas, and now a water filtration plant. I’m guessing this movie’s theme is ‘the ocean’.
- HA! THE REPORTER LADY JUST CONFIRMED IT. ‘I’m looking for a theme!’ ‘THE THEME IS THE OCEAN, RIGHT THERE!’ says other reporter guy.
- I don’t trust this guy’s mustache.
- Ah, I was right, he’s apparently draining the ocean out of a part of the bay? Because of .... reasons? Reclaimed land? I’m not sure.
- Hey look at this strange piece of shiny floating trash. I’ll just pick it up with my bare hands. 
- Egg eating guy is told cover a news story about an egg in the ocean. Funny.
- Priest: ‘I’ve asked the gods to bless the giant egg. Nothing can go wrong, it belongs to us!’ Fisherman-dude: ‘Yeah, that sounds right!’ ...how dumb are you fisherman- dude?
- scientist guy: ‘isn’t this a bit unusual’ he says while STANDING 4 FEET FROM A GIANT, IRIDESCENT, EGG FROM THE SEA.
- some dude straight up bought it from the fishermen. At wholesale price. I wasn’t aware that giant monster eggs could be bought and sold wholesale. 
- ‘This giant egg is equivalent to 153,820 chicken eggs’ I’m curious to know where you got that figure from just by looking at it.
- And some other guy bought it to put in an amusement park. That’s....really boring.
- IT’S THE TINY TWINS! This hotel is infested with  tiny magical girl vermin.
- Honestly though. I watch this knowing about them ahead of time, but people watching this for the first time back in the 60′s must have been SO confused.
- Ah, tiny twins are trying the reporters now. Oh won’t someone give them back their egg?
- HI MOTHRA!
- These guys are being remarkably calm for being confronted with tiny speaking people telling them about a giant moth egg that formed on an island exposed to the H-bomb.
- This is such a socially responsible monster. It comes with it’s own warning system that lets people know about the destruction it’s going to cause ahead of time.
- HA they brought the tiny twins to a business meeting in a box.
- aaand skeezy mustache dude just offered to buy them. Why am I not surprised. At a lower price than he paid for the egg too!
- BYE MOTHRA!
- how surprising. Slimeball business guys haven’t paid their workers. There’s NO WAY this isn’t going to come back and bite them in the butt.
- wait......they’re....COOKING the giant mothra egg?! Oh...no, they’re ‘incubating’ it... with steam.
- don’t worry, we just gave you a radioactive bath. WHAT?
- oh wow, so that thing you picked up early in the movie is SUPER RADIOACTIVE. No biggie though. You’re fine I’m sure.
- Third of the way though, and still no Godzilla.
- OH WAIT, THERE HE IS!
- coming up out of the dirt in the now-drained-of-water bay like some sort of fucked up daisy. Dude was napping remarkably close to land, and no one noticed.
- The sirens on these fire trucks sound like slightly concerned ghosts. “oooOOOOOoooooh?’
- Ok, either the Tokyo Tower wasn’t always red, or the model builders in this got lazy and didn’t paint it.
- it’s neat that this one is within Tokyo proper. People are running past the castle and I’m all ‘hey! I’ve been there! Neat!’
- Godzilla tripped on the moat and fell into the castle. He then proceeded to trash the castle, because HOW DARE.
- Oop and now Godzilla has managed to find that Magical Open Void Space in Tokyo. Apparently it’s just past the imperial palace. Funny I’ve never noticed it before.
- Yes. Let’s sick the giant winged insect against the giant walking lizard. The Moth can TOTALLY take Godzilla what are you talking about shut up.
- So. we’re now on a super radio active island to ask for Mothra’s help. 1) they’re only wearing yellow rain coat suits, not hazmat suits  2) are the inhabitants small like the twins? 3) IS NO ONE GOING TO NOTICE THAT THE TURTLE SKELETON IN THE BACKGROUND IS BOBBING IT’S HEAD LIKE SOME SORT OF DEMENTED DASHBOARD DOG DECORATION?
- oh, the inhabitants are regular sized. But primary-red.
- I’m pretty sure these guy’s costumes are insulting in some manner to every single native culture that has ever existed anywhere.
- So....the tiny twins are telepathically linked to Mothra. Talk about pulling the short straw of super powers.
- o/~ MOSURA YEH! MOSURAAAAA! o/~ That song that everyone knows but doesn’t know the actual lyrics to.
- back to the army plan! Lets throw a giant net over Godzilla and zap him with ‘artificial lightning’. Do you mean electricity?
- I love how one guys’ reaction to seeing Godzilla outside his window is to get his pistol. Whatever makes you feel better dude.
- Gozilla’s after the egg. Godzilla SNACK!
- Mothra’s having NONE OF THAT. She’s actually got Godzilla by the tail and is DRAGGING HIS GIANT FACE THROUGH THE DIRT. Somewhere, physics is crying ugly tears of frustration.
- Godzilla set Mothra’s wings on fire. WHO’S UNSURPRISED BY THIS DEVELOPMENT? 
- Apparently the humans of the film are. WHAT DID YOU THINK WAS GOING TO HAPPEN WHEN YOU SEND A MOTH AFTER A NUCLEAR FIRE BREATHING LIZARD?
- HA! Mothra somehow managed to knock Godzilla ass over tits into the dirt.
- And Mothra’s toast. Figuratively and literally. She landed all dramatically on the egg though.
- Ah the days before they used MAZER tanks, and had to use regular tanks, which are just as ineffective against Godzilla.
- Wow...are these guys even TRYING to aim? Seriously, HE’S A GIANT FUCKING LIZARD. HOW HARD CAN THAT BE TO HIT.
- Apparently very. A moment of silence for the entire countryside surrounding Godzilla that is now on fire. 
-’ HERE COMES THE GIANT NET! hey, it’s kind of working! BRING IN ANOTHER NET! ah we fucked up. shit.’
- I love the expressions on all the military guys faces when ‘HOLYSHIT THAT DIDN’T WORK. NOW WHAT.’
- PEEKABOO GODZILLA! Japan’s mountains makes for the best game of hide and seek.
-  Clap your hands.. no wait, SING IF YOU BELIEVE IN MOTHRA!
- I DO! I DO BELIEVE IN MOTHRA!
- Ooh, Technicolour egg hatching. SHIT THERE ARE TWO LARVAE NOW.
- dang, there are school children on the island Godzilla is heading for. OH WON’T SOMEONE THINK OF THE CHILDREN?!
- FUCK THESE FISHING NETS! FUCK THAT HOUSE! FUCK THIS TOWN IN GENERAL!
- Being a model builder for this series must be such a thankless job. You go to all the trouble of making your towns and buildings super detailed and believable, and you see it for two seconds before it gets stepped on, set on fire, or both.
- Guys...they’re moth larvae. I’m not entirely sure what you expect them to do against Godzilla. OOH BIT HIM IN THE TAIL. nice.
- wait.....so the larvae cover Godzilla in silk, kick his ass into the sea, and that’s IT? THAT’S THE END OF THE FIGHT? YOUR BREATH CAN LITERALLY MELT ROCKS. SET THE DAMN SILK ON FIRE.
- WHAT A LAME ASS ENDING! Boo.
- Still a better film than Godzilla V. Hedora.
- BUTSTILLBOOOOOO.
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sleepofgiants-blog · 8 years
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Prodigal Fathers (A Star Wars Story)
The glossy black floor was cold and spotless. The structure in the center of the room was under harsh spotlight and the reflective surfaces created a resemblance of moonlight across still water. The hermetic seal on the meditation chamber was broken with an angry hiss as the upper level of the clinical sphere was mechanically shorn away and brought to the ceiling. A stoic black figure is revealed in contrast with the chamber's sever white walls and pastel flashing panel lights. The silence is accosted with a sharp pulmonic strike. The first in a unnatural and constant rhythm only a computer could call breathing. Darth Vader stepped from the platform as the meditation chamber began its hibernation mode. The overhead light was cut and replaced with another off to the side revealing a second platform. Vader's tall black form pulsed across the room and ended in a kneeling position next to the holotable, his cape blooming at his feet. “What is thy bidding, my master.” He asked, as a disembodied profile crackled into view. “The Jedi are all but erased.” Emperor Palpatine said, “The time has come to reach into the pitiable holes they have cowardly climbed into. There is a purulent world in the Sluis sector that is satiated in The Force. The Jedi were so kind enough to keep document of such things to aid in their own destruction. I expect they might think it clever to hide among the muck and mire of this planet. Go. Rip any remaining Jedi from their perceived safety.” “Yes, master.” Said Darth Vader without hesitation as the image of Palpatine was cut. Vader rose and toggled a switch on the platform triggering another profile of a man, only this one much smaller and much less intimidating. “Lord Vader?” He managed. “Prepare to make a launch to the Sluis sector. I've fed the specific coordinates.” Vader ended the transmission before the receiving end could answer. He already knew how they would respond. If Vader's breathing apparatus had allowed for scent, the mud pit of a world tucked away in the Sluis sector would stink like the entire surface of Felucia was uprooted and flipped over. It certainly looked that way. Temperatures were hot and the humidity was high, but Vader could only tell that by the readings in his suit and the condensation forming on his lenses. He felt nothing but dense anger. The troopers had been sifting through the region for a week, each time returning with less men but more tales of the swamps and trees coming alive and swallowing troopers whole. Tales of a creature lurking in the mists. Finally, when scans showed an underground structure, troopers confirmed a small nearby camp with fires still hot. Landing on the jungle floor was not difficult after the bombardment of thermal charges reduced a number of trees to a charred black landing pad. The armor clad band exited their shuttle, the gleaming white troopers followed behind their dark leader into the depths of the wet forest to the location of the temple. When they arrived, they saw just a small cave-like opening and vine covered steps leading down into the submerged castle. Vader paused at the entrance. “I sense something down there. Powerful. Steady.” “Yes, sir.” A trooper dimly yet dutifully replied as they made their way down. Vader ignited his Lightsaber to cut away vines and snakes and anything else in his way. The short stairway led to a hall, which seemed to close completely with swamp life in the distance. “Hold.” Said Vader and the troopers stopped. There was an accelerated slithering sound as the vines and roots and mud swirled to life and choked the hallway. The troopers opened fire at anything that moved and Vader swung his Lightsaber as he walked forward to his undiscovered goal. The enclosure was filled with plant life and dirt and water until Vader and his men were forced to their hands and knees or on their backs. They were being swallowed whole by the lost temple. Though they could hardly move themselves, they were being carried away in dizzying speeds and patterns. Vader felt through the Force when one of his troopers’ head turned 180°. It would seem this was a journey not to be survived by weaker men. Vader called upon his rage and pushed out with the Force and ripped through the green torrent of deadly flora that delivered him and his followers to an atrium. And a 30 foot drop. Ancient bricks and freshly torn vines share the freefall with once crisp armor. Vader corrected his path and slowed his descent. Two lucky troopers were saved the fall by being close to the Dark Lord's telekinetic field. One was not. The unfortunate trooper hit the ground first with a pathetic crumple. Vader and his last padded lightly on the ground next to him. Vader's cape had been damaged and now fell to the floor behind him as they carried on through the stale abattoir. Ornate carvings and busts surrounded them. Relics of a budding Jedi order. “Pain. Hatred. Leave here, you will not.” The voice shook in the emptiness of the dark, tired but firm. “Ah, another of my old masters.. Beaten and hidden. Now your destruction will be complete.” Yoda jumped down onto the head of a statue of a stern faced Jedi Master. He wore a tattered beige cloak with holes cut in the hood for his ears. He threw his arms out to full length in front of his chest, his palms toward the faraway ceiling already damaged from Vader's entry. He pulled inward as he tightly closed his three fingers into fists and the stone collapsed. Giant portions of rock were now speeding to meet Vader below. Vader unleashed a burst of Force speed to dodge to the right and avoid a boulder, which instead caught a Stormtrooper by surprise. There was a short yell and a wet crunch as Vader was already dashing forward to avoid the next slab. When the remaining Stormtrooper began firing at Yoda, the old master deflected the first bolt and sent it back towards Vader, causing him to ignite his Lightsaber and backhand strike the bolt  carelessly returning it to the shooter behind, killing him. Fluidly, he reversed momentum of his arm into an underhanded throw of his Lightsaber in the direction of Yoda's perch. Sacrificing his advantageous position, he lept away from the spinning laser sword and landed on the floor to face his enemy in close combat. Yoda sprinted low to the ground and vaulted at the helmet clad monster, grasping his Lightsaber with the Force and switching it on midair. He swung down at Vader's imitation face and was blocked by the length of crimson heat protruding from Vader's gloved claw. Tense vibrations held weight before an entire planet of life, silencing every detail until Yoda expelled a fierce shout and jumped over Darth Vader, spinning overhead to grab at the exposed swath of robes covering the cyborg's back and yanking him to the ground and delivering a series of Force assisted blows to the head with his free hand. On the last of the punches, however, Vader caught Yoda by his arm and hurled the small opponent twenty feet across the arena, giving himself time to stand. Vader's face plate had been dented and the left lense had been shattered but the vacuum seal remained intact for now. He had had enough. He knew the Dark Side was more powerful. He drew from it deeply. The dank room grew cold and the various plants accumulated a layer of frost. Countless insects and small vermin fell dead, their life energies drained in an instant. Yoda knew the advantage had changed. A typical being might feel fear at the face of this challenge. Yoda only felt determination and sorrow. The ground beneath them rocked violently, though it was clear that it wasn't Vader's doing as he dropped his stance when his automated legs attempted to steady in the quakes. No, this wasn't the Dark Side nor the Light. This was the living Force itself, making a decision to protect the safety of the planet. Not choosing sides, just enforcing the balance. Vines clinging to the walls flexed and broke free of the newly formed ice and darted like whips at Vader, nearly clipping Yodas pointed ears in the process. Vader cut down the first volley with his Lightsaber, and the second, but the vines were coming too fast and too frequently for him to stop them all. Yoda backed slowly towards the wall and watched in trepidation as nature smothered machine. Vader was largely covered in mighty flowered vines. His body was being lifted up and pulled. Sparks came showering from his suit, his robotics cracking and failing. The constricting green ropes had dragged Vader up to the thin remains of the ceiling. Hot jungle sunshine was trickling in through gaps as Vader was being crushed by the planets will. No, this was assuredly not the end of Darth Vader. He would not allow it. He coalesced his dark energy into a swirling sphere of survivalist rage. Tearing the vines to pieces and tearing the pieces into mulch. Sections of the temple ceiling were coming with it, turning into a dark powder, letting more and more sunlight in. There was now a massive hole in the world as Vader levitated in the void. “You are no match for the power of the Dark Side. My master has broken your order and now I will finish what he started. You, alone are no rival to me.” “A Jedi is never alone, Anakin.” The soft voice lilted on the air like a warm breeze on a spring afternoon. “What is this.” Vader demanded as he at last planted his feet back on the ground. The wind spiraled slowly to a stop and soil and miniscule debris scattered around. Yoda came out of the shadows into the golden light in the center of the temple and closed his blade. He looked up to the sky and watched as the sun seemed to swim closer. Magical light brightened next to Yoda and room the form of a translucent man with long hair pulled back and pleasant robes. “Good to see you, it is. Qui-Gon.” Yoda said. Qui-Gon smiled and nodded somberly before directing his attention to Vader, who seemed to be immobilized with anger. “Anakin, what has happened? Your mother would-” Qui-Gon is interrupted by Vader who has charged at the two Jedi, hell-bent on seeing this finished. Vader swung his Lightsaber through the Force Ghost, which shimmered back into thousands of small lights and wafted away. Vader, hungry for a tangible target, turned to Yoda and struck just as Yoda rolled to the right and curved around to the unguarded backside of Darth Vader. He lit up his Lightsaber and sliced across Vader's legs, making him fall to his knees. Yoda aimed his Lightsaber at Vader's head, but Vader blocked with his right hand, saving him from death but taking away his fingers. His helmet was partially severed at the top, breaking the hermetic seal and exposing his scarred flesh. It was hard for him to breath now. He would lose this fight. Reaching out once more to the Force, Vader swept up a barrage of rocks, bricks, and other debris and sent it against Yoda in a gale. Taken by surprise, Yoda suffered many blows to the face and chest before being sent back and to the ground giving Vader time to wearily stand. Vader crouched and flexed, preparing to attempt a Force jump out of the dilapidated temple. He pushed with everything he had left and stiffly ejected from underground. Upon making it to Dagobah’s topside, landing was another challenge he would fail. His broken armored body crashed against a tree about a mile away from the temple. Vader pressed a button on his chest module with his remaining metal fingers. This would contact the Devastator above for a retrieval. Some lucky pilot was about to get promoted for their discretion. Or eliminated for their disloyalty. Vader sat in his meditation chamber. Helmetless, he focused his rage and humiliation of defeat. He cycled his thoughts over and over. Thoughts of Qui-Gon, of Dagobah, of Obi-Wan. Thoughts of hate and betrayal.
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