/q/ - Quest

>Both
Yet again, you're forced to perform a head-count, as your weary comrades draw closer, sitting down together regardless of faction to treat one another's wounds at long last.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MX1hS7PwgRU

Those who did not survive – these are their number.

The skeletal knight who sought to tame the demon possessing him through the cultivation of wisdom and qigong – Eligos.
Doctor Galton's soft-spoken, melancholic understudy, the genius stained glazier – Viper.
Living Saint Zoantharia's grumpy, yet kind-hearted monk-squire, who tirelessly collected alms for the poor – Monkey.
Holy Hours's boisterous entertainer and unforgettable clown – Rooster.
The pony who always sought to stand up for truth, justice and the Accorsian way, who had earned through blood sweat and tears (mostly blood) the title of Mortalkind's Strongest Demon Hunter – Hurricanrana.
Buiwong's dedicated emissary to the Buffalo clans, who survived the One Night War and the Rapture at the heart of the bloodiest battles between angelkind and demonkind – Temper Tantrums.

And…

The power-devouring gremlin who navigated the membranes between Worlds to chase down the rogue voidling Observer – once known as Yes Mare for lack of social grace… Hafaza.

The trio of musical angels, always ready to jam with anybody whose soul needed a lift… the Malakhim.

Those few who remain of the Saviors sit beside you in particular, unable to muster more than a few words as they try to heal yourself and themselves. Yet it's not going well… nobody has the energy for it. Least of all Flow, and Observer, and Great Journey.

>>767919
Shorthorns takes full stock of their lost members, sitting down slowly in particular as she realizes Temper Tantrum is no longer among them. She weeps for all their fallen compatriots, of course, having gotten plenty of time to know all of them - too much time, it almost feels like - but Temper Tantrum is a particularly heavy blow as a fellow Buffalo, and a fellow Climbing Fire at that. He was a warrior worthy of admiration, and Shorthorns can only hope he went out in a manner befitting such a strong and noble bison.

She looks around for Great Journey, feeling as though he might feel the same (and just to affirm to herself that he is still here among them all)

>>767919

"We're almost done, then everyone will be saved," Amy says with determination as much for her own benefit as everyone else's.

>Shorthorned
Great Journey leans his head against yours, weeping in bitter silence. Nearby, Buiwong clears his throat.

"I've got him," Buiwong says. "…We ain't losing him to Tartarus… We ain't losing anybody. Once we're back on the surface…"

Buiwong sighs, as if even the hope of escape and resurrection were itself too much to process right now.

>Both
As your allies struggle to bind up one another's wounds… you gradually sense that you are not as alone as you may have felt. For a sensation of a presence builds around this battle-worn Anchor, growing in all directions.

As your allies hastily rise and reach for their weapons– you see a weary remnant of GREED's soldiers gathering around you. At their head is a tall figure, clad in a suit much too big for his frame without even counting his pointy shoulder pads… Bloody, bruised and wounded, this may be an historic time for the Layer of GREED, for now in MISTER MOOLAH they have a leader who fought alongside his troops and outsourced contractors, rather than sit back and hide behind his dirty money.

"Finally…" Moolah sighs as the troops of GREED surround you. "It's… done. It's all done."

>>767922
Shorthorns gently rubs her head against Great Journey's, sitting in silence with him as they silently mourn their fellow clansmate, tears flowing down her eyes as well. "I miss him too…" she says to him, drawing on him for strength.

As Buiwong says he has him, she looks to him, nodding in gratitude. Her feelings towards the spider god are complicated, but for this she has nothing but thanks. "Thank you, Buiwong…"

>>767922
As they all gather to lick their wounds and mourn their fallen, Shorthorns is suddenly distracted by the arrival of weary remnant of GREED's army. They look as battered and bruised as all they do, but in truth, Shorthorns can't help but feel a sense of wariness as they seem to surround them all. She turns to MISTAH MOOLAH, gauging him cautiously for what he's about to say or do.

>>767922

Amy transforms back into her wolf-pony form and sits next to Mudi. "Almost," she responds to Mister Moolah. "We still don't know ANYTHING about Fraud."

>Both
The remnant army of GREED reaches for their packs…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BlAd2KSXD2k

And in a flash, fireworks and confetti fly up all about you. MISTER MOOLAH's kicked off into a frenzied and memetic dance, whooping and cackling with the ecstasy of victory. "We won! We won!!! GREED really is good, just like they said!!! Talk about a five finger discount!!! Hot diggiTY DAWG!!! YEEEEEEEEEEE-HAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!"

The forces of GREED start passing out these cheap-ass little drawstring vinyl backpacks – commemorative swag bags. Inside you find a flimsy plastic water bottle that can't hold enough to quench anybody's thirst; then there's some misprinted BELPHECORP stickers with an awful-smelling adhesive. Then there's a one-size-fits all BELPHECORP t-shirt, pure recycled cotton (not pre-shrunk). You also see… little figurines made in the likeness of all your dead allies. Surprisingly, these look pretty high quality. You can even move their limbs to pose them like action figures.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhh I couldn'ta done it without you guys!" MOOLAH continues, gyrating like in a trance. "We're all getting promoted for this one! They might even give me a raise! First one I'll have ever gotten since I started working here… and maybe… just maybe, while I'm dreaming… maybe Shirley will let me have joint custody again!!!"

Your remaining allies glare at MOOLAH like they're about to rip him limb from limb. Even Scorpan's looking around for something to beat him senseless with.

But… you feel the faintest sense of another presence… one last guest for this celebration.

>>767925

"What's 'joint custody'?" Amy asks before becoming distracted by this other presence she senses.

>[1d10] to locate it

Roll #1 10 = 10

>>767925
As Mistah Moolah's forces suddenly send up a flurry of fireworks and start cheering in celebration, Shorthorns releases the breath she'd been holding.

"Phew…." she says in relief, falling in exhaustion against Great Journey's side. "I'm too tired for any more surprises today…"

As she gets her gift-bag, filled with figurines of their fallen allies, Shorthorn's expression takes on a scowl. She wants to argue this is in poor-taste so soon after their loss, but at this point she's just thankful this is all she has to worry about from Mistah Moolah.

>Both
As MISTER MOOLAH proceeds to go on an explanatory rant about how his ex-wife robbed him for all he's got, Amy's nose regains its sense of direction.

Only… the presence you sensed is coming in from all directions, and yet none at all– each forewarning, a false one. You look about at all angles, both outwards and even inwards, yet you just can't find–

Only, at the last moment, Amy happens to glance at the Vorpal Sword, still held by Shorthorned.

And, at the broken, shot, stabbed, bludgeoned, sliced, burned, hexed and all-other-ways-damaged body of the Storm King, Lord of GLUTTONY. With his left hand he reaches for the handle of the Vorpal Sword, for his right hand is but a stump.

>roll perception

>>767928

Amy barks at the Storm King, blasting a wave of holy flames at him.

>Wrath [1d10+4]

"That's not your sword any more," Amy says as she rushes at him.

>[1d10] perception

Roll #1 1 + 4 = 5 / Roll #2 6 = 6

>>767928
Shorthorns' meaning of rest is interrupted as the presence suddenly distracts her, looking around for where the source could be coming from.

"What is that…?" She says, not yet aware of the growing danger just on her back

[1d10] Perception

Roll #1 4 = 4

>Both
In the very instant that Amy barks out her holy fire, a curl of flame passes between her eyes and the Storm King– obscuring her view of him. The very next instant, the Storm King is gone, and so is the Vorpal Sword.

Then, the Storm King stands near Amy, yet inflicts no retaliation or counter-attack against her for the assault. He holds the Vorpal Sword up, in his good hand and his stump, beholding its inscription with exhausted eyes.

"Finally…" the Storm King sighs. "It's… done. It's all done."

Only… as you look at the stump, you realize something's amiss.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1AxkHZ5WGMc

It's hollow.

Where one would expect to see meat and bone, cauterized or otherwise, there is a void. The circle of his wrist is neither fleshy nor raw, but dusty instead. His arm is made completely out of some kind of hollowed-out rock, and you can see the crack where his severed hand would fit neatly, a geological puzzle piece.

The wounds on the rest of his body are just the same: hollow openings. None of the blood upon his body is his own. As he caresses the Vorpal Sword, his hollow body moves awkwardly upon its frame, wobbling from side to side, like clothes hanging upon a mannequin too small for the tailoring.

Your other allies back away from the Storm King in silence, for even those who did not meet the Storm King recognize him for a Lord of Limbo from power alone. MOOLAH's celebration continues, heedless of this final guest.

>>767931

Amy frowns as she looks at the pathetic sight. "Even if you were the fairest once, you're definitely not now. Are you even undefiled anymore?"

>Mantra of Equality to get him to see the reality of the situation: he has lost the fight and doesn't deserve the blade
>[1d10+4]
>DC-4

Roll #1 5 + 4 = 9

>>767932
>>767931
Shorthorns looks on as Amy's fire suddenly catches her attention to the new threat, put on her guard as she feels the Vorpal Sword taken from her back.

"AH!" She says, looking up in surprise to see the Storm King having survived his encounter with THE BEAST after all. But, as she looks at the looming, powerful figure, she can't help but notice the differences from before - his strong, imposing figure now dusty, hollow, cracked… like he's falling apart at the seams, caressing his blade as he wobbles from side to side. Where at one point Shorthorn felt trepidation from this figure, it's now replaced by a new feeling… pity.

She moves in front of Amy as she barks at the Storm King, waving her hands in front of her. "Wait, Amy, it's okay!" She says, trying to get her to stop. She turns back to look at the Storm King.

"It's his sword. He hasn't done anything to deserve us taking it away from him."

>Amy
"I know… I know…"

Perhaps surprisingly, the Storm King responds to you.

Only… it is the right side of his face which responds to you. The right side sags, weary and pained, and twitching like it's trying to get away, to leap from the body and hide behind you.

The left side, on the other hand, may as well not have heard you at all, for it still regards with maternal love the Vorpal Sword which shows the left side's reflection.

"Please… help me," the right side of the Storm King's face begs.

Yet the left side has other plans.

>Both
The Storm King jolts back, nearly snapping his spine at a 90 degree angle as he wrenches upwards, arms outstretched in joy. "I've done it!" cries the left side of his face. "I've won! Everyone who stood in my way of becoming the Lord of LIMBO once once more is dead! They're DEAD! DEAD!! DEAD!!! And I still stand!!!"

A hideous screech rips from the Storm King's throat, ascending vertically from his usual sonorous, honeyed octaves into an unrecognizably shrill trilling.

…Even as his wuthering victory cry grates your ears, his words ring familiar. Yes, he has said before that he was once the Lord of LIMBO. Not a contender, but truly taking the mythical throne as the uncontested LORD… This means he once reigned victorious in a previous competition… and then either abdicated the throne, or more likely, was torn off of it.

The question is, then… exactly *when* was the Storm King the Lord of LIMBO? As you heard from Asphodel, the previous Lord was not from GLUTTONY… but from…

>>767934

Amy's frown deepens as her eyes narrow. "There's two of you…" Amy says as both an accusation and a realization.

"If YOU are the Storm King," Amy says, pointing to the right half of his face. "Then, who are YOU?" she asks, pointing to the left.

>>767934
Shorthorns is perturbed by the bizarre 'split' in the Storm King's personality. She attempts to approach him, but is caught off guard by his suddenly ear-piercing screech.

"Agh… Storm King, listen to me!" She says, attempting to bring reason back to the broken and head-splitting monarch. "Yes, the battle is over, but look at yourself! Don't you see what's happened?" She says, trying in particular to appeal to the left half to bring it down to earth

[1d10]

Roll #1 3 = 3

>Both
By now, the remnants of your allies have drawn their weapons, but look just as ready to cut and run from this sordid scene. And, the forces of GREED have finally gotten MOOLAH to pay attention to what's unfolding in front of him.

The Storm King tilts his head your way, a look of confusion coloring the manic left side. "Ah…? Oops! Sorry, didn't quite have time to change back into my Sunday finest for the big moment!"

The Storm King's left hand raises the Vorpal Sword high. The stump of the right arm extends outward, yet quivers and twitches as if the Storm King – or more accurately, his right half – didn't want to do this. Then, the left hand tilts the Vorpal Sword, hanging the blade above the right wrist.

(1/2)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zLJW4lBlNAY

"P-please," groans the right side of the Storm King's sunken, sloughing face. "You can't do this… let me go… I did all you asked! W-we had an agreement!"

The right side of his body quivers, rapt with tremors, as if trying to escape the left side, yet he remains trapped by paralysis.

"An agreement?" the left side of the Storm King's face repeats, all parts of it curling up with contemptuous mockery. The left side of the body shakes too, quivering with glee. "We had an aGrEeMeNt!? Puhuhuhu! You should already know the problem with THAT argument!!!"

The two halves of the face divide, the right side weeping with terror, the left side cackling with hysteria, as the Storm King's left hand raises the Vorpal Sword to the sky.

"H-HWUUUUUUUAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAHAHAHAAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!"

The Vorpal Sword guillotines down, slicing off the very end of the Storm King's right wrist. Against the begging and sobbing of the right side of his face, the blade rushes back up, slicing off another cut of the wrist, chopping it nice and thin as if it were so much deli meat.

Screaming and giggling, the Storm King pirouettes, twirling into an ecstatic dance of torment. With each turn and curl and bend, his left hand hacks off bit and bit of his own body with the Vorpal Sword, showering the field with rock dust and scattered aether. First his right arm, then his horns, his ears, even his hooves and ankles and calves, yet even without those, the Storm King floats in the air, puppeteered by something inside him.

Taking the sword in his teeth, the Storm King thrashes at the neck, headbanging until he at last shreds his left arm into fine fragments of rock. As the fragments fall he flings his neck all the way back as if to twist it off his shoulders – yet it spins all the way back around like a spring released, launching the Vorpal Sword through the air.

"Now, my dear Vorpal Sword!" the Storm King bellows. "I dedicate thee – reveal to us thE FAIREST ONE OF THEM ALL!!! HWAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAARRRGGGHHHH!!!"

The Vorpal Sword boomerangs back around, returning to the summons of its true master.

Before you can blink the Vorpal Sword beheads the wuthering Storm King, and his corpse falls backwards – before some kind of bestial limb jabs out through one of the stumps of his legs. Then another animal extremity through an arm-hole, and horns through the neck-hole, and yet more appendages out of his back and elsewhere.

Dear reader, it would avail us of no good to describe each myriad figment of flesh that is now exploding through the hollow stone body of what was once the Storm King. For there are so many beasts comprising the chimeric marionettist who wore the Storm King's body like a costume that you may as well just imagine whatever you like! In fact, damn the description, and damn the narration altogether!!! For there is none in this sordid tale who defies description, reason, and good taste more than–

SHE WHO BEGETS STRIFE WITH STRIFE UPON STRIFE;
CHAOS CON CARNE;
THE UNHOLY QUEEN OF THE EIGHTH LAYER: FRAUD;
ERIS.

>>767937
Shorthorns is appalled and caught off guard as the Storm King begins to massacre HIMSELF, tearing off his limbs and face bit by bit as some unknown presence seems to tear him apart from the inside. It is only now, too late, that Shorthorns understands what is happening.

"That's not the Storm King!" She shouts to those in case it was not already obvious, and she moves into action, throwing herself towards the Vorpal Sword to knock it free of the hand of its new mysterious wielder before they manage to complete themselves in this horrid transformation

[1d10+3] All Or Nothing

Roll #1 1 + 3 = 4

>>767938

Amy takes a few steps back as she watches the horrifying transformation take hold. She'd already been putting the pieces together as it began to happen in front of her. And, as Eris reveals herself, Amy suddenly nods in understanding.

"Oooooooh! THAT'S why the Storm King was coming off as more of a pitcher than a catcher!" she says as if all is right with the world now. "ERIS is totally a catcher!"

"Wait.. ew. Does that mean I was flirting with YOU?" Amy asks Eris. "I mean, no offense. I'm just not really into mares…"

>>767939

As Shorthorns inevitably hurts herself in the attempt, Amy tosses a potion in Shorthorns' direction.

>[1d10+4] Natural Remedy

"Well now, hang on a second, Shortyhorns. Eris is just here to become Lord of Limbo. We're not really here to do that. I don't see why we can't make a deal with FRAUD," Amy says in a sort of glib tone.

Roll #1 9 + 4 = 13

>Shorthorned
As the queen Draconequus explodes forth from the Storm King's body, you leap forth to suppress her– only to stare down the barrel of a flintlock pistol, clutched in ERIS's chimeric hand.

Nearby, Anzu gasps, looking at the empty space in her hoof where she once held her gun, now appropriated by the Queen of FRAUD.

ERIS pulls the trigger.

Out pops a little flag that says, "Bang!"

Then an explosive force launches you across the rocky diskos, and you tumble across the stones before skidding to a halt at MOOLAH's feet. He barely looks down at you before looking back up in shock and awe at the figure before him.

>Shorty loses 1 Wound which is immediately healed

"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaait-uh!" ERIS cries, doing that thing where someone with a whiny voice appends an "uh," sound to their words. "Staaaaaawp-uh! I won! I already won! Aren't you guys tired of fighting after all that business in Midnight Castle!? Can't we just get along!?"

>Amy
"Honestly, so true!" Eris says to your description. "I don't know why the narration said I was unholy, I'm totally known for my holes! Puhuhuhu!"

…Dear reader, you will soon discover, if you have not already, my trepidation in bringing you to this point. Be careful around her…

>Both
ERIS stops to think, tapping the golden pommel of the Vorpal Sword against her temple. "Well… I guess we do have some unfinished business. Still gotta figure out who owes who favors!"

You recall the "IOU" that the Storm King – or rather, ERIS in disguise – wrote you when you first helped her find where the Vorpal Sword had been hidden by her unnamed "enemy." And you recall the suspicious portrait who offered you help in Midnight Castle as you and the BEAST hunted one another. If that portrait and its favors turned out to be one of ERIS's workings as well… you could very well find yourself in debt, true or fraudulent, to ERIS.

Your allies silently watch the Queen of FRAUD, weapons raised despite her demand for peace.

>>767941

Amy laughs at the 'holes' joke.

"Guys, it's a draconequus," Amy says to everyone still looking for a fight. "You're not going to get anywhere without going with her flow. Plus, I mean, she's Eris. The rest of Tartarus's Lords couldn't even kill her together. It took all this cheating just to undo what they did to her. You're not going to redo it to her with weapons."

Then, Amy takes a moment to think about Eris's words. She mentions a narrator. It's not the first time someone has said something like that, though she can't remember when or why she feels that way.

It DOES remind her of the times she's been trapped in stories - like the one with Regina or the one with Wineberry. She doesn't think that what's happening right now is like that. But, then she's reminded of all the times lately she just… knows things. She forgets where the information comes from. She ponders on this for a moment.

>Vestigial Sunlight to determine if there's a connection between people's awareness of the narration and Amy's own usage of Vestigial Sunlight
>short of that, Amy wonders what in general Eris is talking about
>[1d10+2]

Roll #1 6 + 2 = 8

>>767941
>>767942

Shorthorns winces as she comes face to face with the barrel of a flintock, eyes opening wide as she fears she stares death in the face… but as the BANG flag shoots out and knocks her back with the explosive force, she grunts and tumbles to a halt, thankfully spared damage thanks to the healing salve Amy through at her.

"Ugggh…." Shorthorns groans as she rises and rubs her head, looking to Amy as she explains who this is, and she turns her attention to the Lord of FRAUD herself.

"Another LORD… here I was thinking we were finally almost out." She says, shaking her head as Amy comments on her being a draconequss. "She definitely seems strong, but do you really think we can work with her? We don't even know anything about her, do we?"

As Eris mentions there being favors left unfulfilled, Shorthorn's eyes open wide. "Wait… how did you know about Midnight Castle? You… YOU were the voice we heard! The one in the painting, that was you?!"

>>767943

"Well, she's the Lord of FRAUD, so of course we can't work with her," Amy laughs. "But, that's exactly why we CAN work with her!"

>>767944
"I am so lost." Shorthorns says with genuine confusion, "Which is it?!"

>Amy
"Well…" ERIS mumbles, poking her mismatched index fingers together as you talk about cheating. "To be fair… I mighta started the cheating in the last war… I was totally gonna die so I put in a cheat code to stay alive! But in my defense, they were totally trying to focus fire me!"

Tuning out her inane ramblings, you consult the chorus whose existence you do not know.

ERIS's touch, her words, and her knowledge, is certainly reminiscent of those previous times in which you were trapped in stories… yet, there's something… still missing from her. She may be likened to a performer in a musical, or a play, who leans out over the edge of the stage to engage the audience in the fun… yet, even that leaning upon the wall between performer and audience… is it not written in the very stage directions of the script?

>Both
"Yep, that was me!" ERIS laughs as Shorthorned figures it out. "Oh, and… by the way, a word of advice for the future…"

ERIS looks at you.

Not at Shorthorned, nor at Amy.

No.

She looks– across. Her gaze crosses the Labyrinth between Dimensions, across time, across space.

ERIS looks at (You), dear reader.

"Any time you're trying to solve a murder mystery in which there's multiple deaths, there's always something screwy with the first death!" ERIS says. "And those discrepancies end up being the key that solves the subsequent deaths!"

The audience blinks in silence at this worthless advice.

ERIS hangs her head in shame. "Well, I think it's worth something… anyway, I think when we math it all out, you guys owe me! I totally helped you get through Asphodel's defenses, then I helped you… in Midnight Castle! Yep! Definitely helped keep the BEAST moving around the Castle before he could kill anybody!"

Is that so…?

>>767946
Thanks for the advice, Eris. I'll keep a closer eye out for such details in the future, but I enjoyed the surprise of your entrance.

Anyways, Shorthorns looks at Eris with a perturbed look as she seems to stare off towards nothingness, but as her attention is returned to her, she raises an eyebrow as she insists that THEY somehow owe her. "Huh? I mean…" she thinks about it and the logic behind, then shakes her head.

"Wait, no, we're even! See, we got the Vorpal Sword for you in the first place, then you helped us get to Asphodel. Then you helped us with the BEAST, but then-" she points to the Vorpal Sword in her possession, "We're the ones who slayed the BEAST and got you the Vorpal Sword back! If it wasn't for us, it'd still be stuck there and it'd still be rampaging. So, as far as I can see, we're even."

>>767947
>>767946

Amy nods vociferously along with Shorthorns words. "We helped you, you helped us. Then, you helped us help you. That's everyone helping everyone else an equal amount."

>Shorthorned
ERIS gulps with surprise, evidently not expecting (You) to talk back to her.

>Both
ERIS pulls out an abacus from somewhere, and starts sorting the beads to count favors.

https://youtu.be/lEH5EVCS0yA?feature=shared

"Let's see…" ERIS says. "You helped me find the Vorpal Sword after my idiot cousin hid it away, for which I owed you one." She moves a bead over. "Then, I helped you get past Asphodel's defenses. That makes us even… until I also helped your slowpoke friends get past Asphodel as well! Puhuhu, now you owe me one!"

A stir passes through your allies as ERIS makes this spurious accounting. You get the sense that they intend to argue, but an overwhelming sense of caution keeps them from speaking up just yet.

"You may have also heard," ERIS continues. "That the forces of GLUTTONY were acting weird all throughout the war. They were totally useless, and got themselves killed! This put more strain on old 'TNT', forcing LUST and VIOLENCE to pick up the slack against WRATH and HERESY and all the other looky-loos who came to fight. Another point for me!"

She slides another bead to her side, putting her at 2-0.

"Finally…" ERIS says. "In addition to messing with the BEAST's teleportation inside Midnight Castle, you agreed to accept MORE help from me in the final hunt. Add to that the fact that the Vorpal Sword was the only way that you could have killed the BEAST, that's one, two, three favors from me! 5-0! Puhuhuhu!"

Your allies, finally abandoning the idea of confronting ERIS in a battle, lower their weapons and huddle up around you.

"Es ist bullscheisse!" Freischutz sneers.

"I know," Great Journey says. "But that's her Layer's whole thing, isn't it?"

"Calm down," Evil's Judgment orders. "We'll just need to bullshit her back."

"Right," Blessings says. "…how much can we finesse our accomplishments to even up against her?"

Vizsla taps her chin. "Or, failing that, discredit her supposed favors…"

>>767950

"No, no, no," Amy says shaking her head at the last parts about 'help' killing The Beast.

"That wasn't you helping us, that was US helping YOU. You were trying to get the Vorpal Sword BACK. Helping us help you is just helping yourself. If anything, those last three should count as you owing yourself."

>Mantra of Equality
>[1d10+4] DC-4

Roll #1 5 + 4 = 9

>>767950
Shorthorns looks at the abacus, trying to think of a way of how to argue her way out of this… but as her brain rattles off from each count of the favor she owes, Shorthorns shakes her head in confusion. "Ugggh…. this is making my head hurt. Mathematics were never what I was best at…"

She raises her hoof, "Now, hold on one thing there… the Vorpal Sword COULDN'T kill the Beast on its own, you can't count that as your helping any more so than we should count me using my head," she says, knocking it with her hoof, "To push it all the way through, otherwise it was just stuck! That definitely doesn't count as a favor."

>Both
ERIS narrows her eyes as Shorthorned elaborates on the BEAST's death.

"Insooth!" Gegenschein agrees. "The Vorpal Sword was stuck in the BEAST's neck, and your macabre 'glove' was still attached. Obviously you stabbed the BEAST… but you failed to finish the job, and had to retreat lest the BEAST land a fatal hit on you!"

"Grr…" ERIS grumbles. "Okay, I'll take off the last point… but that's all you're getting back! I'm up 4-0!"

MOOLAH and the forces of GREED sit on both sides of the scene, chattering among themselves in awe.

Your other allies think and whisper among themselves… all except Buiwong, who doesn't look too worried at all.

>>767953

"Hang on, that just makes what I said more true. If you couldn't kill THE BEAST yourself, then none of your helping us helping yourself kill the beast should count! YOU wanted THE BEAST dead. That's not helping us, that's working with us, and that's a form of helping yourself!"

>[1d10] to stick with this argument
>DC-4

Roll #1 2 = 2

>>767953
>>767953
Shorthorns grimaces, finding that trying to reason with Eris is proving a very up-hill battle and just getting her down from 4 to 0 favors is going to take a LOT of haggling that she simply doesn't have the most experience in doing. However, a light-bulb goes up in her head for another way around this sticky problem.

"Okay, well, I should point out that WE were the ones that went to go find Asphodel in the first place, AND we convinced him to join our cause. Without him, NONE of this would be possible… so that's 1 you owe us."

"Then," she says, "The only reason there was a BEAST for you to slay in the first place was because we beat Tirac and Grogar, at the same TIME, and threw them into the bottomless bog we came across. That's 2 you owe us."

"After that, a Son of Perdition nearly took us all out, and if that happened we could have never helped you in the first place, BUT I managed to help her resist her evil mother's control, from inside a locked CLOSET, so she wouldn't hurt anyone. That's three you owe us."

"And finally," she said, puffing her chest out, "We managed to take down the Vestal of Peace, which is the only reason ANY of this happened in the first place. If it weren't for that, you'd still be exactly where you were before, so you owe us FOUR in total." She grins, "So, why don't we just call it even then?"

[1d10] Persuasion

Roll #1 9 = 9

>Both

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UFcJmOs8DRQ

Just as ERIS starts to cook up some smart-ass answer to Amy, Shorthorned pushes her way to the front and buffaloes ERIS the way only a buffalo can. With each argument that Shorthorned makes, ERIS mumbles some back-talk, but Shorthorned's already onto the next point. You can almost hear some kind of "BANG!" or "POW!" sound effect as each breakdown lands, and a bead of the abacus slides back to the other side.

As Shorthorned suggests you call it even, ERIS gawks, jaw ajar, at the abacus, which has rendered its judgment – you're square.

Buiwong looked like he had a mild interest in adding something, but instead silently chuckles, and slips back away from the forefront.

Meanwhile, the crowd of GREED is chattering to one another in excitement and intrigue. MISTER MOOLAH, most of all. He shivers like a fanboy with front-row seats to his favorite act, nearly going to burst. But he also looks a little… shy? As if he may need help speaking up…

>>767956

"So, now that we're all agreed that we can all help each other the same amount…"

"What are we doing here?" Amy asks, looking around to everyone present.

>>767956
>>767956
As the Abacus slides move one by one back into their favor, Shorthorns's confidence swells with each word that comes out of her mouth, suddenly finding herself believing in her own claims and feeling bigger than the tallest mountain as Eris is put on the backhoof. As it finally clicks down to the final tally, showing everyone is completely square, Shorthorns smiles, looking around at everyone as they watch the scene with rapt attention.

"Hah… hah… well, now that's settled…" she says, looking to Eris once again. She bows her head, "Thank you for all the help, Eris. It was great working with you," she says, extending a hoof towards her. "Friends?"

>>767957
>>767956
"Hmmm…" SHorthorns thinks for a moment, remarking on how Amy suggested we *could* perhaps make use of Eris.

"Hypothetically speaking, Eris, if we WERE to do you a favor… one that would, in turn, mean you'd owe us another favor, what would you have had in mind for us to do?"

>Amy
Mudi motions for you to keep your voice down. "Once everyone was well enough to move, I was going to lead the way to the Momentary Lake. It should be somewhere in the wreckage of GROGAR's mobile empire here… but if ERIS finds out, it's likely she'll try to lead us into a trap."

>Both
"Don't get ahead of yourself!" ERIS suddenly barks, swishing the Vorpal Sword about in frustration. "Midnight Castle had Nine Layers, each comprised of Nine Floors, for a grand total of eighty-one possible locations you could have ended up… and that's just the ones I knew about! You think it's a coincidence that you all happened to be close enough to regroup!? That was my doing too! Those fashionable fits!? All me, baby! And I could have easily killed Asphodel – I just let him go! Yeah, and what's more–"

As ERIS goes on a furious rant, more beads on her crooked abacus slide over in her favor, no matter how spurious her logic might be. A chill passes through your allies as they rack their brains for more bullshit…

Among them, you notice two figures stirring. Buiwong leers at ERIS, nervously calculating his next move. So is MISTER MOOLAH, but the latter's trying to smooth out his hair and sharpen his suit. Another GREED soldier helps him apply cologne…

>>767959
"Wait, YOU were the one who put me in this?!" Shorthorns cries out, still referring to her orangeish princess outfit that she's presumably still wearing and hasn't had a chance to change.

"You call this a favor?! You made me look like some kinda prissy pony princess, how is THAT fashionable?" She says, as bullheaded as any buffalo could be at arguing as she tries to stem the tied of the Abacus sliding towards Eris' favor. "If I didn't ask for it, it shouldn't count as a favor!"

[1d10]

Roll #1 5 = 5

>>767959

"Yeah, no, I get what our plan is," Amy says to Mudi, not, in fact, keeping her voice down. "But, I'm asking how our plans are going to work out with everyone else's plans here."

>>767959
>>767958

"See?" Amy says, pointing to Eris as she makes more shit up. "Eris KNOWS we can help EACH OTHER, but she's still trying to make it about herself."

"And, it's not just her either," Amy points out. "Buiwong's over there with some secret up his spider-sleeve like always. MISTER MOOHAL is over here trying to find a way to make this work to his advantage."

"That's what I'm asking. What are WE doing here? Are we just going to sit here all day disagreeing about who can help who when we can all just help each other instead?"

>Mantra of Equality to get everyone to just get along
>[1d10+4]
>DC-4

Roll #1 5 + 4 = 9

>Both
As Amy calls everyone out, ERIS, Buiwong and MISTER MOOLAH in particular, a shocked silence breaks the tension. Buiwong raises his hoof like a divine icon, ready to bestow wisdom– but quickly backs up as MOOLAH finally works up the chutzpah to make this his moment, just a Amy had accused him of doing.

"Ex-ACT-ly!" MISTER MOOLAH says. "Just the kind of rousing teambuilding I'd expect from my spokesdemon, thank you, Amy!"

"Ah?" ERIS mumbles in confusion.

MISTER MOOLAH turns toward her. "And, ma'am, can I just say… it is SUCH an honor to meet you! I'm a huge fan of your work!"

ERIS's pouty, petulant demeanor suddenly brightens. "You are!? Wow, didn't think I'd find someone with such good taste all the way out here!"

"T-thank you!" MOOLAH says. "I've read all your published works!"

"Really!?" ERIS gasps. "Now that's impressive. Even the ones they tried to burn because they were making everyone who read them go insane!?"

"I even reviewed them on my blog!" MOOLAH declares (and truthfully too!). He produces a worn leather book and a pen. "C-can I have an autograph?"

ERIS giggles. "I dunno, can you?"

MOOLAH's eyes narrow, ever so slightly. "…May I have an autograph."

ERIS takes the pen and book. Your allies sigh with relief now that the Queen's been distracted.

>>767962
>>767961
As Moolah tends to Eris, seemingly starting to win her over into something of a more reasonable exchange of services, Shorthorns turns to Amy and the rest of her allies as she asks, "Is it a good idea to let MOOLAH handle negotiations like this? What if he demands a consultation fee or something, like we'll be owing another favor to him instead if we let him handle her?"

>>767963
>>767962

Amy shrugs. "At this point, I think it's more likely he'll just drop out of the running of Lord of Limbo for Eris. And, that'd be fine too."

>>767962

Amy smiles. "I like it when people get along. That's all I'm here for. That's why asked what WE are doing here," she reiterates her question.

>Shorthorned
"I think it'll be alright," Buiwong says. He motions for you to scoot back.

>Both
"To whom am I making this out?" ERIS asks, doing a sick pen twirl around her fingers.

"Uh…" MISTER MOOLAH says. "MISTER… M-I-S… yeah, yeah. MOOLAH. M… uh, no, there's no 'u' in MOOLAH. It's O-O."

"But 'o' doesn't make that sound, silly," ERIS says. "The letter 'u' does!"

MISTER MOOLAH sputters with barely-contained disbelief and exasperation. "It's like… how a cow… uh… ah, here." He hands ERIS a business card. "Just spell it like that."

"Uuu!" ERIS says. "Thank you! …And… done. Here ya go." She looks over the business card again after handing the book back (she steals the pen). "Oh, cool!"

"Y-yes?" MOOLAH asks.

"You work for BELPHECORP?" ERIS asks. "Like *the* BELPHECORP?"

"The very same!" MOOLAH declares, beaming with pride. "In fact, and I don't want to count my basilisks before they're hatched, but I could very well be looking at a promotion after I report our vic… tory…"

MOOLAH's voice trails off as thoughts coalesce in his mind.

"The BELPHECORP, headquartered in the Layer of GREED," ERIS says. "…Which is participating in the War for the throne of LIMBO."

Sweat beads upon MOOLAH's forehead.

"Making you their representative in the War," ERIS says.

MOOLAH gulps.

ERIS puts her hand upon his shoulder and smiles. "You're coming with me, pal."

MOOLAH blinks. "…In a good way or a bad w–"

ERIS launches into the Abyssal sky with explosive force, dragging MOOLAH away with her.

"–AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYyyyyyyyyy…"

As the two fade from sight, you get the sense that you will not be seeing either of them again soon.

>>767965

Amy just watches passively as Mister Moolah is whisked away. She blinks a few times with an almost completely blank expression.

Then, she lifts a hoof paw to her face and cups it by her mouth and yells, "That doesn't count as a favor," up into the abyssal sky above them.

Amy turns to everyone else and says with a satisfied nod, "Honestly, I don't see how that could have gone better.

>>767965
>>767964
Shorthorn's attention is torn away as MOOLAH and ERIS both take off into the sky, losing track of them quickly as they fly off to who knows when. She feels little sympathy for MOOLAH, who despite having done well by them hardly did it out of altruism's sake, but feels concerned that ERIS will prove more trouble for them down the line. However, with the two LORDS out of the picture, quiet falls once again on the discarded shell of Asphodel's broken piece of spine they all stand upon.

"Well, at last… that seems to take care of all the LORDS, one way or another. I'm still worried about Asphodel, but…" she pauses, looking at Amy. "I guess… there's nothing really standing between us anymore, huh? Between us and the reason we came here."

>Both
Once more, silence settles around your allies, as the last two contenders for the throne of Limbo vanish, and are seen no more.

The rag-tag remnants of GREED look at each other now that their boss is gone. "Coffee break?" one suggests. "Coffee break." "Coffee." "Do we still have any decaf?"

GREED's soldiers wander back to their base, idly chit-chatting and chilling.

Scorpan steps back a little as your allies check their bags and things. He offers you a light bow. "As for myself… this is where we go our separate ways. Thank you, all of you. I… shall not soon forget what you've done for me. And… for Tirac as well. Take care of yourselves… and of one another."

Your allies stop to give their goodbyes and thanks to Scorpan– Mudi, Gegenschein and Buiwong in particular.

Once you have finished saying your goodbyes to Scorpan, you do him the favor of watching him as he leaves for the ruins of Midnight Castle, keeping him in your observations to see his safe journey off.

With him gone, Shorthorned's words ring true. The War is at last won. Although you hadn't been conscripted to see it through to the end, you certainly did… just not in the way GREED would have hoped. But that is their problem, now. You have yet another problem to see too– the one for which you entered Tartarus in the first place, seeking to solve.

"…Right," Vizsla says. "…We should be able to look for the Momentary Lake in peace now."

"Hoohoo," Doctor Galton hoots. "Nothing like a nice quiet hike to clear my mind."

"Everyone ready?" Mocha asks.

"Always," Hope says.

"But of course," Chorazin declares.