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a76809.jpg
Ribbon Prancer
a76809
>>261805
[EVENT TRIGGER]
>>261762
[14]
>>261768
[7]
>>261770
[21]
>>261776
[17]
>>261780
[29]
>[14+7+21+17+29=88]
>>261760
[rolled 20, 71, 62, 88, 22]
>[Sum of five poster rolls meets one highest encounter roll, is less than one third of collective value of encounter rolls]
>OHBOYHEREWEGO.jpg
There is a sound. I know this objectively, from the vibrations racking my form, from Keddic and Bang both reacting so sharply, Dulu and Figment the only ones to stay unresponsive. It is a weight on the air, something so pervasive I could make no effort at triangulating its source... but I know where it came from. Broggamek, that massive dragon so many miles overhead, still watching us from the cold beyond the planet's surface.
"How persistent is Broggamek?"
BASED ON WHAT WAS WITNESSED OF SPACE PIRACY, BROGGAMEK'S CHARACTER IS COMPLETELY IMPLACABLE AND UNABLE TO BE DETERRED FROM GOALS. THIS IS ALL BASED ON HIS TENDENCIES AT HORDING ITEMS IMBUED WITH BELIEF, IT IS UNKNOWN HOW WELL IT TRANSLATES TO LIVING BEINGS.
I am about to speak again as the cry passes-when I hear the answer. From hundreds, thousands of throats, I hear the keening roars of obedient followers, hungry voices taking flight. In five seconds, the air fills with dragons as they pour from their every perch, nook and cranny, all taking to the sky-
All focusing on Nidhogg. Keddic, now down to only his own blood and that on the Blood Toga, looks conflicted about how he could help, while Bang, his scarf only partway recharged, seems more reserved than he normally does when faced with an impending fight. Dulu, still not cool enough to safely seat on Nidhogg, shifts again, body becoming swoops and curves, arms flying to strum strings, barrages of arrows flying from his arbalest-themed body. Nidhogg looks to me, as Bang and Keddic, both cursing their own current state, likewise turn my way. Keddic and Bang at best will be of nominal help... by my own and Dulu's hands alone, we are to be saved? ...What of Figment?
"I don't suppose you feel like interfering?"
THE STORY YOU PLAN TO CHANGE IS A GRAND ONE. IF THE CHARACTER MORDRE CANNOT NAVIGATE THIS, HOW COULD CENTRAL CHARACTER LUBU'S TALE BE ALTERED?
...So, on my own, then.
Well, I have that soul mass prepared, 412 of my stored souls, as much as it took to match my own form. I try to feed more lives into the mass, but it seems to threaten rupture. ...Now I consider just how complex what I make shall be, even as I speak, twisting words in the hope of finding a way to live openly.
"...I have something I can try,
A function of this Soul Grave to tap...."
>>261768
>>261769
>>261771
>>261783
>>261821
>>261842
[-412 SOULS-----TOTAL SOULS REMAINING:-----14,543]
[-3 PRISTINE SOULS-----TOTAL PRISTINE SOULS REMAINING:-----02]
[-15 DEEP SPAWN CORES-----TOTAL UNSPENT DEEP SPAWN CORES:-----20]
I come to a grim determination: Of my thirty five remaining Deep Spawn cores, a full fifteen will go towards building my soul. I hope the collection of Deep Spawn souls will grant me the depth of power it seems I must have to operate on a global scale. With them, I send a trio of Pristine Souls, keeping them at bay for a moment as the fifteen Deep Spawn cores meet the four hundred and twelve souls. I feel the Deep Spawn eggs eroding the few glimmers of identity left to the souls around them-even as their own Names are being stripped away in their contest. It takes Keddic calling to me to make me pay attention to the outside world again, and not just carefully monitoring the slow wiping of any quirks from the building Soul Mass. ...It is at this point I note my body is LEAKING magic, Bang is staring at me with an unreadable look, and Keddic looks concerned. I note the air about me is crackling and warping even as the scion of the Harksburton house speaks.
>"...Are you alright?"
"...I can keep going.
No escape vector,
Not enough munitions-
I need a magical solution,
And I'm... almost...."
The air hums and sings, a dull throb rocking wildly out from my body, a hollow parody of my own artificial heartbeat as the Soul Mass loses its last semblances of identity, and the Pristine Souls I held at bay are let loose as the encircling net of thousands of ravenous dragons continues to close, the frontrunners already whipping back their necks as they ready for acidic discharge. Light goes wild around me, paths of blazing light and murky shadow rippling and writhing as if tangible about me, just as Dulu puts a bolt through the eye of his fifth Dragon so far. I feel those three working in concert, binding together the disparate elements, fusing soul to soul, weaving it all together, until where once there was nothing but a writhing mass of turbulence, there is but one massive, the would-be lives of the Deep Spawn not so much ended as homogenized, a quiet soul-to-be, not a whit of life experience or character imprinted on it, ripe for the taking. I feel the richness of power, the full scope of Mortal Magic open to this, as well as Deep Spawn workings.... I say my next bit before I take the plunge.
"...Nearly....THERE!-"
I dive into the mass waiting all around me, extending my will, my ownership, my essence into its open embrace.
The sky shakes, wild winds race and whip about without warning as my whole body vibrates so harshly it acts like a massive tuning fork. I feel power fantastic flow into my grasp in a manner far more intimate than any power of my Soul Grave has yet felt. I see the reaction to this not just in my allies, but in the narrowing eyes of approaching dragons.
>>261850
>>261857
>>261867
[LYRICAL TRIPLE BONUS: KNOWLEDGE]
In my rush of new sensation, feeling a soul of my own, even as the ripples of warping reality begin to fade with my working complete, I gain an innate sense of just what I can do.
>-Mordre can learn any magic that a mortal could learn in equivalent circumstances.
>-This does not mean Mordre's soul innately knows all the magics it casts through the Soul Grave, even though they are still fully usable. It just has the means to tap them freely.
>-Mordre can learn any and all Deep Spawn magic, including Administrator magic.
>-Mordre's soul is currently of a well-established Hero level, benefiting from having Deep Spawn regeneration inbuilt. This passes on in some form to anything Mordre possesses (Currently can only be Soul Grave).
>-Mordre can directly dominate and command the souls of the dead so long as they are not Hero level or above, or otherwise warded from influence. This allows normal souls to be used as fuel for basic Soul Magic.
My gaze sweeps out in one fell rotation- Three thousand, two hundred seventy eight dragons. At least I see none of the Elder dragon class amongst them-does Broggamek not command the Elder dragons? This thought seems too large in my mind as I reach into my soul furnace, and hardly knowing what I do cast what I grasped out, hurling it away like a metaphysical spear.
The Soulfire about my floating skull flares to white, suffusing so heavily with Chaos I scoff at myself for ever thinking its default form chaotic, as a rain of souls rocket forth in every direction.
[-3,278 SOULS-----TOTAL SOULS REMAINING:-----11,265]
The air roiling in their passing, my blazing stars, each as hot as an Inferno Golem, scream across the gap in an instant. Where they touch dragon flesh, those wild, white flames spread in seconds, burning everything to ash. I sense nothing, no Blood Iron, no carbon, nothing of value descending in those clouds of ash, the dragons wholly consumed in a handful of seconds. For a brief moment we are within a blazing sun as our would be attackers burn and scream. As the last of them falls, nothing is said for a moment. I dare not even move, until-
"...Uh, Mordre? Dude? ...What did you just do?"
This is it. This is where I make or break my attempt to finally find a way to live openly without being defamed for being Anathema. These are to be the witnesses to my 'accident'....
What should I say or do?
>[Please give me actual dialogue, leaving it up to me will not guarantee success.]
Should this be navigated safely, what should I do?
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