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A sharp dressed imp, the saga continues

ZagreusZagreus
edited December 2020 in Event Scrolls
Voice muffled by his mask, Necrochemist @Uzriel d'Vanecu, the Demagogue of Dissonance says, "Have you seen the imp with a hat on Nil?"

You ponder the situation.
You say, "Probably."

The Carillon of Screaming Hatreds.Fire jetting out of his nostrils, Ashtorath bellows here in rage, beating his mutated chest with enormous clawed fists. A huge archdemon looms here, surrounded by black mist. There are 6 wights here. A black-skinned imp wearing a hat squats here, long tail twitching.
You see a single exit leading down.

This creature is a shrunken humanoid with black skin, horns and a long tail. Its hands have sharp, spiked claws, whilst its feet are small and pointed. Two small wings protrude from its back. Its face is thin and twisted, prominent veins throbbing around bright red eyes and pointed teeth. Perched upon its head for no discernible reason is a ceremonial auburn turban, adjusted just a smidge off center.
A squat imp in a hat is not one to be trifled with.
He weighs about 60 pounds.
He has a great resistance to excorable damage.
He has a moderate weakness to divinus damage.
He is loyal to the Grand Dominion of Magnagora.
You cannot see what a squat imp in a hat is holding.
It has the following aliases: imp, demon.

Uzriel greets a squat imp in a hat with a sincere smile.
A squat imp in a hat sniggers evilly.

"Heh heh heh" you chuckle.

The cold voice of Uzriel sends chills down your spine, "Not related to solstice to be clear, Jatius gave him money to buy a hat, or gave him the hat."

You greet a squat imp in a hat with a sincere smile.
A squat imp in a hat sniggers evilly.

Voice muffled by his mask, Necrochemist Uzriel d'Vanecu, the Demagogue of Dissonance says, "All the other imps will get jealous."

You say, "The latest fashion in impish designs."
You say, "Guess I hadn't see it."

Voice muffled by his mask, Necrochemist Uzriel d'Vanecu, the Demagogue of Dissonance says, "I'm waiting for imps in valet vests."

With your mighty index finger extended, you poke a tacky Solstice vest.

Voice muffled by his mask, Necrochemist Uzriel d'Vanecu, the Demagogue of Dissonance says, "I put mine in the Megalith."

You say, "Here, imp, take this offering."
You give a tacky Solstice vest to a squat imp in a hat.

You say, "Now you have the whole solstice spirit."

You grin mischievously at a squat imp in a hat.
A squat imp in a hat sniggers evilly.

Voice muffled by his mask, Necrochemist Uzriel d'Vanecu, the Demagogue of Dissonance says to you, "He accepted it?"

You say, "He has it."

Voice muffled by his mask, Necrochemist Uzriel d'Vanecu, the Demagogue of Dissonance says to a squat imp in a hat, "Enjoy your solstice vest, hope it goes well with the hat."

A squat imp in a hat ponders the situation.

You say to a squat imp in a hat, "Yes, direct your hatred to him. He gave it to you, yes, it was totally him."

A squat imp in a hat glances askance at the vest in its hands.

The cold voice of Uzriel sends chills down your spine, "Now he's going to taunt Ashtorath with it."

Your voice hisses sibilantly into the mind of Necrochemist Uzriel d'Vanecu, the Demagogue of Dissonance, "As if beefy boy needs more reasons to rage."

A squat imp in a hat says, "Other demons won't laugh at me?"

You say, "If they do, send them to Lord Ashtorath."

Nodding, Necrochemist Uzriel d'Vanecu, the Demagogue of Dissonance says, "They would only laugh out of jealousy."

Wisely, a squat imp in a hat says, "They do that a lot."

You say, "We hear tacky vests are the latest in Solstice fashion, but then again, what is fashion anyway."
You say, "As long as it keeps your icy heart luke warm at night."

This creature is a shrunken humanoid with black skin, horns and a long tail. Its hands have sharp, spiked claws, whilst its feet are small and pointed. Two small wings protrude from its back. Its face is thin and twisted, prominent veins throbbing around bright red eyes and pointed teeth. Perched upon its head for no discernible reason is a ceremonial auburn turban, adjusted just a smidge off center. For some unknowable reason it is also wearing a tacky Solstice vest.
A squat imp in a hat is not one to be trifled with.
He weighs about 60 pounds.
He has a great resistance to excorable damage.
He has a moderate weakness to divinus damage.
He is loyal to the Grand Dominion of Magnagora.
You cannot see what a squat imp in a hat is holding.
It has the following aliases: imp, demon.

A squat imp in a hat dons the tacky vest with pride.

Uzriel gives a squat imp in a hat a wild cheer!
A squat imp in a hat opens his mouth in a wide smile, revealing rows of sharp teeth.

Your voice hisses sibilantly into the mind of Necrochemist Uzriel d'Vanecu, the Demagogue of Dissonance, "Probe him!"

You cackle hellishly.

The cold voice of Uzriel sends chills down your spine, "We've created a monster."

You say, "This is awesome."
You say, "It.. it must grow. We will build this imp into a veritible monster of knitted wares."
You say, "What footwear do imps like?"

Voice muffled by his mask, Necrochemist Uzriel d'Vanecu, the Demagogue of Dissonance says, "I feel like sandals with socks."

You say, "Kneehigh socks."
You say, "Ghostly white."

A squat imp in a hat says, "Shoes bad! Claws."
A squat imp in a hat says, "Must defend with claws and grip things when perching."

You say, "Sandals with open toed areas!"

A squat imp in a hat exclaims, "No perching!"

Voice muffled by his mask, Necrochemist Uzriel d'Vanecu, the Demagogue of Dissonance says, "Flip-flops!"

You say, "Loosely knitted foot mittens."
You say, "So the claws can go through, but it keeps the fleshy meat flip flaps warm."

A squat imp in a hat says, "I don't know mittens, they sound fancy."

Voice muffled by his mask, Necrochemist Uzriel d'Vanecu, the Demagogue of Dissonance says, "You can use them to grab really hot and really cold things."

A squat imp in a hat says to Uzriel, "I can do that now. It just hurts."

You say, "Be right back.."

(shopping)

You wave a black leather pair of bloody torturer's gloves about energetically.
You give a black leather pair of bloody torturer's gloves to a squat imp in a hat.

You say, "Now you can poke your claws through, and torture in style."

Voice muffled by his mask, Necrochemist Uzriel d'Vanecu, the Demagogue of Dissonance says, "Ooh, with gloves like that even the Queen will be jealous."

You say, "Shhh don't invoke Nif...her name."

A squat imp in a hat looks at the gloves curiously.
A squat imp in a hat says, "I don't like, no room for claws."

You say, "No no!"
You say, "You poke the claws through!"

You say, "Margaret gifted us a matching apron!"

You peer at a bloody black leather torturer apron unscrupulously.

A squat imp in a hat says, "Apron and vest?"

You say, "Margaret is coming, she can gift this one."

A squat imp in a hat says, "You are sure that is the fashion?"

You say, "You'd not want to get blood all over the vest now would you?"
You say, "When you cook up some torturous delights."

Thoughtfully, Necrochemist Uzriel d'Vanecu, the Demagogue of Dissonance says, "I don't know, a bloody solstice vest might be more jolly."

You say, "Hmm, that's fair."

A squat imp in a hat exclaims, "I can try, give!"
A squat imp in a hat looks the apron up and down and casts it on the ground. "Too big, hides vest."

You say, "Alas."
Voice muffled by his mask, Necrochemist Uzriel d'Vanecu, the Demagogue of Dissonance says to you, "The imp knows what he likes, a creature of taste."

You say, "That's probably for the best. Before long we'd have you wearing fifty shirts, looking like a plump apple."

A squat imp in a hat bites into the gloves and tears off the fingers. He puts them on tentatively and pushes its claws through.

Wryly, Necrochemist Uzriel d'Vanecu, the Demagogue of Dissonance says, "Or like an adventurer wearing 5 different kinds of artifact shoes?"

This creature is a shrunken humanoid with black skin, horns and a long tail. Its hands have sharp, spiked claws, whilst its feet are small and pointed. Two small wings protrude from its back. Its face is thin and twisted, prominent veins throbbing around bright red eyes and pointed teeth. Perched upon its head for no discernible reason is a ceremonial auburn turban, adjusted just a smidge off center. It is also wearing a tacky Solstice vest embroidered with miniature presents and a depiction of Jolly Bundy on the back, and a pair of black leather gloves with fingers bitten off and its claws piercing through.
A squat imp in a hat is not one to be trifled with.
He weighs about 60 pounds.
He has a great resistance to excorable damage.
He has a moderate weakness to divinus damage.
He is loyal to the Grand Dominion of Magnagora.
You cannot see what a squat imp in a hat is holding.
It has the following aliases: imp, demon.

You say, "Hold still."
You say, "Ooh, spicy sketch alert."

You lift a wizzer image box up and pull the lever. It begins to make a series of clicking and whirring sounds as a light extends and emits a bright flash at a squat imp in a hat. A piece of paper floats from the front of the camera into your hands.

You give a sketch of a squat imp in a hat to a squat imp in a hat.

You say, "There, a little sketch to remember this moment by."

A squat imp in a hat says, "Fiends will be jealous of attention."

Proudly, a squat imp in a hat says, "Good, admire fashionable imp, envy of Nil."

A squat imp in a hat says, "I go show other imps."

A squat imp in a hat waves a gloved hand.

Voice muffled by his mask, Necrochemist Uzriel d'Vanecu, the Demagogue of Dissonance says, "Enjoy, sir imp."
image

Comments

  • ParhelionParhelion
    What's next, rats with hats wandering the streets of Magnagora?
    Her voice firm and commanding, Terentia, the Even Bladed says to you, "You have kept your oath to Me, Parhelion. You have sworn to maintain Justice in these troubled times."

    Yet if a boon be granted me, unworthy as I am, let it be for a steady hand with a clear eye and a fury most inflaming.
  • JatiusJatius
    edited December 2020
    I absolutely wasn't expecting anything like this to come out of giving an imp some gold and telling it to go buy itself a hat. I need to go bug him. Alas, holidays.
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