RP:A Present from Mr. Snuggles

Part of the Venturil's Bane Arc

This is a Necromancer's Guild RP.

Blood Fountain, Vailkrin

Dyzz stalked the streets of Vailkrin quite often. There was much to see, and she was hardly perturbed by even the most terrifying and grotesque sights that the lands had to offer. Being a witch herself, she dealt enough with black magics and undeath to have a decent grasp on the subjects. Not that the magic was her strong suit though, really... she'd hit a brick wall recently in advancing her magical crafts. She'd turned more towards her physical prowess to cope, and her barbaric ways served her well, with the guidance of Jacoby and the strange goblin Shiny. Strapped with her witch paraphernalia, and her own customized Savage Arsenal, Dyzz was ready, and even looked to be looking, for a fight, most of the time. Still, with as much skin as she showed, as the skull bra and loincloth didn't cover too much, she looked like a simple, if beautiful, savage. Some bright orange facepaint, and the chinking, glowing blue seashells in her crimson splashed hair served to further set her apart, as such vivid colors weren't commonly seen in this morbid setting.

Maladroit was lurking in the fountain. It wouldn't be apparent right away - that bland, churning blood was deeper than it looked - but now and then a pair of gnarly, curved horns would break the surface, or a pair of wing-tips, perhaps a set of manyjointed fingers, before the gaunt went back to skulking at the structure's bottom. What -would- be more noticeable, however, were the shreds of flesh and bone-shards the abomination was flipping over the side. Slap, slap, thud! Bits of gore, left and right, rained in a veritable, bloody hail of leftovers. Of course, the why of it was entirely a mystery, at this point.

Dyzz was walking by the fountain, as it happened. In a land of many oddities, however, seeing fresh, bloody meat and bone tossed about carelessly.... was, uhmm... well... It delighted Dyzz. Now, Dyzz has a very wide palette... she eats livestock, and I do mean live... and whole... and she eats trash, with no problem whatsoever. Her stomach was supernatural, ya know? And her hunger was ravenous. So, with a rather delightful little squeal, Dyzz plopped down beside the fountain where those gory chunks landed, and started greedily shoveling them into her mouth, uncaring whether it was flesh, bone, or a mix of the above. And she was a rather messy eater, at that. She looked like a 2 year old smearing her face with barbecue, and whether more got on her or in her was questionable.

Maladroit would not mind the troblin acting as an impromptu clean-up crew one little bit. The creature he'd dismembered had not been its primary goal on this little diving trip. Of course, the Necromancer's familiar had no sensory organs with which to see the happily snacking Dyzz, but its preternatural abilities allowed it the knowledge that it was not entirely alone. Dyzz was left to enjoy her meal while the gaunt groped about madly in the fountain, and the fact that it soon located what it had been looking for resulted in a sudden -whoosh- and shower of blood as the thing sprang from out of its liquid lair, wings snapping open to shake them free of blood like two ugly umbrellas. Rubbery skin shining wet and red, its blank face tilted in curiosity, and in its hands a small, black box - Maladroit 'peered' at Dyzz in its own peculiar, improbable way.

Dyzz was showered in blood. It was a good sauce, but too much was just untasteful... especially all over her! Kinda sticky. She looked up after being soaked, not really that disturbed by it, and blinked at Maladroit, the odd gaunt with his little black box, dripping red life water. She blinked. And blinked again. Jacoby soared into awareness within her, the legendary headhunter of old drooling at the chance to hunt this thing.. whatever it was. But Dyzz held back that shake and shiver, and instead, stood up, leant over the pool, and stuck her arm down in it, down to the shoulder, to see if there was anything else left to eat in there. The gaunt and his box 'somewhat' ignored for the moment.

Maladroit paid no heed to the barbarian's lackeys. It was far more interested in the goblinish aura Dyzz gave off. Some dim memory stirred in its spongy head, where no proper brain existed... Its former life, when it indeed had 'lived', was still adherent to its cellular recall, and the atrocity experienced an altogether alien pang of something like.. nostalgia. Which did not in the slightest inhibit its wondering whether Dyzz might make a good after-swim snack. But other business was afoot, business for which the arrival of one with goblinish heritage was more than merely a stroke of good luck.... Clutching the box under one rubber-skinned arm, the familiar wibbled the strange fingers of its opposite hand and poked the bent-over Dyzz in the back of the head.

Dyzz was searching around that pool real good! She wasn't finding anything, though. The thingy loitered, and poked her in the back of the head, which caused her wave her arm in a shooing fashion, and go, "neegggghh" in that classic lazy leave me alone fashion. She wanted more food! That small snack had given her an appetite. Speaking of which, wasn't that leftovers from whatever this creature had killed? She looked up, her crimson hair plastered wetly to her body, and gave it a tusky grin. "You's gots more foods? Dyzz hungry." She looked up at it expectantly, seemingly fully expecting a coherant answer. Little slow there, troblin.

Maladroit had no mouth at all, a fact which vastly aided in its general unwillingness to condescend to speak to anyone. Dyzz was 'studied' as one might study a particularly interesting insect. For a moment. After which, the gaunt sheared its sharp-edged wings through the chill air, shaking off the last bloody wetness. It would then make a snatching motion, a blindingly quick one, for the troblin's nearest appendage. If successful, she would be airborne in a trice. If not.. well. Perhaps Maladroit would decide it was hungry, after all.

Dyzz was quick, but that was generally when she wasn't so... lazy. Right now, she was asking a black evil looking thingy for food, so it was safe to say she was in lazy mode right now. With a whoosh, and a 'whoop!' she was airborne, and off for crazy adventures with her new friend! Dyzz 'whooped' and 'weee'd' for excitement, being flown up high! By her ankle. Upside down. That was always fun! Her thick troblin blood rushed to her head, and made her very dyzzy when she was upside down, which had a very powerful calming effect on her, which in this case was somewhat countered by the excitement of flight. Dyzz batted at her loincloth a few times as it hung by her face.

Somewhere Over Cenril

Maladroit took off... to where? Perhaps Dyzz' dyzziness was not at all improved by the gut-churning -change- of location that happened next. And so quickly.. oddly so.. frighteningly, so. One second they were under Vailkrin's abysmally dark sky and the next - why, the unlikely pair were halfway out to sea, somewhere over Cenril's coast. The gaunt, with troblin-ankle in hand and with the mysterious black box under its other arm, took to soaring wide circles over that choppy bit of ocean, scaring the heck out of the feasting gulls that were formerly festooning a fish-boat's chum toss, somewhere below. The air about them filled with gullish shrieks and a maelstrom of frantic, white wings.... Maladroit did its best to remain in the panicking flock's midst - for ‘She Who Tastes Vaguely of the Past, Who Hangeth With Both Arms Free of Encumbrance’ had expressed a desire to refuel, after all.

Dyzz was, quite suddenly, flying over the Cenril coast, baby! It was a sea she had been many fathoms to hunt a giant clam only recently, and where she had met many Jersher. Not that that was what was on her mind now. Now, there were squawking seagulls everywhere, and Dyzz was giggling madly whilst snatching any that came too close out of the air, fearlessly shoving whole squawking birds in her mouth and swallowing without chewing. She had gigglefits while swaying too and fro many hundreds of feat above the choppy waters, oblivious to the idea of danger entirely. Her new friend was simply the COOLEST! She wanted to take him home and show him off!

Maladroit continued its swooping until the last of the birds had worked out they were a flying smorgasbord and taken off for Selen Island. Sensing the troblin might have had sufficient seabird snackery, Maladroit flapped in its own glum fashion fo9r the shore. In a peculiar fit of kindness, it even descended to just a few yards above the sand before letting go of Dyzz's ankle.

Dyzz was full of good duck... or chicken... or whatever she'd just eated. She was spitting out feathers here and there when she felt that funny falling sensation, and then her face become acquainted with sand, and her butt with air. She lifted her head up, and swung it about, sand sticking to her her sticky icky form all over. A quick dive and dip in the water, and she came back on the beach none the worse for the wear, fell on her rump, shook her head and wrung her hair, and looked around for her friend with a big ol grin on her face. What a cool evening!

Maladroit landed. It was, considering its misshapen form, rather graceful as it did so, ending up perched on three sets of knuckles, its barbed tail curled, cat-like, around its feet. The box was still under its arm, and the gaunt showed no intention of opening it. Rather, it 'peered' in a generally disturbing way at Dyzz, while remnant gull-feathers dried, where they'd tangled in her hair.

Dyzz chewed on something gristly rather absentmindedly, while simply staring back. She didn't notice the feathers, but if she did, you can bet your bottom she'd have made them totally part of the style. Maybe they were anyway, ya? She just chewed on whatever it was, and stared right back, goofy smile on her face, little tusks peeking out.

Maladroit ... stared. Well, pointed its blank, bullet-shaped head Dyzz's way. Abruptly, they were not in Cenril anymore. In fact, this place which had, from one blink to the next, sprung up around the odd pair was a little bit like Vailkrin, so Dyzz could not be blamed for mistaking it as such. For a short time. For all around them, the air was redolent with the thick scent of blood, and phantasmal beasts, huge and hideous beyond even a goblin's worst nightmare, lay writhing in their death-throes upon the barren ground. Other creatures suffered, too - humanoid. some of them.. but warped into.. whatever-they-weres, with chasms of fangs for mouths and batlike noses. All were dying, or dead, and through this violence strode a woman dressed in gold and bone filagree, black and spiked metal, a tiny woman that exuded the aura of a monster more monstrous than any of the fell and mortally wounded beings that lay at her boot-clad feet. Black of hair, green of eye.. and something horribly.. wrong...about her. The vision vanished. It was a bright, bright sunny day in Cenril again. Maladroit handed the box to Dyzz, waiting patiently for her to take it. Annoyingly, she'd find it firmly welded shut.

Dyzz looked around at the sudden vision, but even at this, remained unperturbed. Her jaunts into the unformed land, and various other spirit realms gave her experience with such visions. She was very curious, though, and looked about with a wide eyed interest not unlike that of a child. When it finally vanished, she looked back at the gaunt, blinking, and smiled again. Her friend approached, and handed her that little box it was carrying. Dyzz looked it over turning it around, tried to open it. Since it didn't open easily, she didn't worry too much about it, and instead set to chewing on it, while watching her friend, Mr. Snuggles. For that was his new name, in her head. "Thanksies Mr. Snuggles!" Awww, a big old thank you. It was a wonder whether or not the daft little thing could connect the vision she'd been given to the box. Maybe? Or maybe there was air in her head where a brain should have been.

Maladroit had no throat, no vocal cords, no means of speech and nor did it often wish to share its otherworldly thoughts with any of this world's denizens. But now it groped a telepathic pseudopod toward the troblin's mind, aerated or not.. and the mind-borne message, a series of sensations and glyphs that would somehow manifest as sensical to her, would carry a vibe of great import. ~~Thou Blue One, Who Muncheth and Is Grateful, Who Goeth About Gnawing, Who Hath the Blood of Olden Days and Goblins, and Other Things Unworthy of Present Mention, Who Is Charged With the Guardianship of the Box, In Which is a Thing of Great Significance, Who Must Guard It With Her Very Life, Listen Now: Fear Not the Gem of Hykthras the Maggot. I Shall Return.~

Dyzz properly oo'd and awww'd this telekinetic picture show, with 4D feelings. She watched, and nodded, and chewed on the box. Her friend could do some really neat stuff! This must be a really neat game. She smiled, and nodded quite enthusiastically. "Dyzz'll protects the box. Ya aint got's nuthin to worries about with Dyzz on the job, yup! Dyzz is totally reliable!" Oh, well. She liked to think so. The box would probably survive, Dyzz was having fun, after all. As long as she didn't trip and drop it in a ditch or anything, they'd be good to go! Dyzz puffed out her chest, and straightened her back. She showed some pride and dignity as the box-keeper.

Maladroit seemed satisfied with whatever it had managed to make of her utterances. It peered at her in necessary silence a moment, then pushed off the ground in a great flurry of leathern wings, its feeder-pseudopods dangling free of its abdomen-cavity. Maladroit had, apparently, built up something of an appetite during their 'adventure'. Thus, it abandoned the troblin on the beach, winging free across the ocean in search of something large to desiccate.

In her hands, the box Dyzz held would hum, or buzz, a vague vibration that in time may shed upon her a strangeness she could not have imagined. Right now, it just buzzed a bit,. and then was still.

Dyzz had a buzzing box in her mouth! She looked at it, as Maladroit flew away, peering at it interestedly. It... buzzed! But then it stopped buzzing. Awww. Phooey. Well, a little shaking, a little more gnawing, and maybe it'd do it again! Dyzz looked forward to more crazy adventures with her flying compatriot and his silly toys.