Round 29 Transcript

Jeane's smile widens as she sees Hera's defiance. "Oh good," she purrs, "someone with spirit. That makes things more interesting." She claps her hands together once and a small orb of shadow appears hovering between them.*

"But make no mistake," Jeane continues, her voice losing all pretense of playfulness. "You're not leaving this room until we've satisfied our hosts' appetites—one way or another." The shadow begins to twist and writhe, forming into a grotesque facsimile of a human face. "And trust me," she adds with a cruel smile, "they have very... specific tastes."

The air in the room grows heavy and cold as the entity responds to Jeane's summons. It's not happy about being denied its preferred meal—Abby's innocence—but it's more than willing to settle for whatever alternative we offer.

Halia steps forward hesitantly, her expression torn between revulsion and morbid curiosity. "What... what do you mean by 'specific tastes'?"

Jeane's grin is predatory as she turns to face the cleric. "Well," she begins, "they seem particularly fond of—"

A sudden scream cuts her off mid-sentence. Silra, still lying on the floor, arches her back in a violent spasm before collapsing completely, her body convulsing uncontrollably.

Jeane's eyes narrow as she turns to face the source of the disturbance. "What now?"

The air shimmers and contorts around one corner of the room, solidifying into a grotesque figure—tall, muscular, with skin like polished obsidian and featureless save for two glowing red orbs where its eyes should be. It moves with an unnatural grace, each step echoing with the sound of cracking bones.

Jeane's expression shifts from annoyance to genuine concern. "Well," she says, her voice tight, "it seems our hosts are getting impatient. And they're not shy about showing their... displeasure."

The entity advances further into the room, its presence radiating hunger and malice. It stops near Silra, looming over her convulsing form. One massive hand reaches down—

CRITICAL CHOICE:

1. Act now to stop the entity from whatever it's doing to Silra (use magic, intervene physically)

2. Try to reason with Jeane or the entity itself

3. Focus on finding a solution that doesn't involve human sacrifice

4. Something else

I force my eyes open, still disoriented from the pounding Jeane just gave me. The sight that greets me makes my blood run cold.

This new... thing... standing over me? It looks like something spawned from a nightmare—all angles and wrongness. Its presence feels like a physical weight pressing down on my chest, making it hard to breathe.

Jeane's voice cuts through the moment of paralysis: "Well, it seems our hosts are getting impatient." She doesn't sound scared, more... annoyed. Like this creature is interrupting her plans instead of terrifying us all half to death.

I try to push myself up off the floor, my body still trembling from the aftershocks of being used so roughly. My mind races, calculating options and discarding them almost as fast. There's no obvious way out here—no secret passages I can spot, no items in our inventory that could handle something like this.

Halia looks like she wants to vomit and pray simultaneously—the classic cleric conflict when faced with pure evil. Abby's wide-eyed with terror, pressed against the wall like a frightened mouse. And Hera? She's still trying to be the hero, talking about finding alternatives instead of accepting the situation.

I catch Jeane's eye and try for some sarcasm, anything to break the tension: "So this is what you meant by 'extraordinary experiences'?" Her smile doesn't reach her eyes. Great—our resident psycho has even less sympathy than usual.

The thing looms closer, its hand reaching towards me with slow deliberation. Each movement feels like it's being dragged through molasses—either because time itself is slowing down or my brain is just processing everything at once before I check out for good.

This is bad. This is really fucking bad. And yet... a part of me wonders what this monster wants. What its 'specific tastes' even mean in the context of human sacrifice.

I shift, trying to move into a position where I can at least defend myself if it comes down to that. My body protests—Jeane left me pretty much useless—but adrenaline starts pumping. Maybe not the best plan, but it's better than just lying here like an offering.

My hand inches towards my belt where I keep my lockpicks and other useful tools. Not for picking locks this time, but maybe as a distraction or... something. Anything to feel less helpless in this fucked up situation.

The creature's fingers close around my ankle—cold as ice and strong as steel—and I let out an involuntary yelp before all thought is swallowed by the sheer alien wrongness of its touch.

Silra writhes beneath the entity's grip, her screams a discordant melody that grates against my ears. This wasn't part of our arrangement! I summoned this thing to serve us—not the other way around!

The creature's touch ignites something ancient within me—fear, yes, but also a twisted excitement. Its power calls to mine in ways even I find disturbing. You dare defy our host after summoning it here? My voice drips with venom as I stalk closer to where Silra thrashes.

I raise my hands, arcane symbols tracing themselves across my palms. Perhaps you need reminding of who's truly in control here. Power crackles around me—raw and hungry—but I hold it back for now. You'll pay for this insolence one way or another, little rogue.

The entity turns towards me then, its attention shifting from Silra to the greater threat. Its glowing red eyes bore into mine—a silent challenge that makes my heart race in a way that has nothing to do with fear. Very well. If you insist on testing our hospitality... I let the power loose in a burst of shadow and flame that engulfs us both.*

The world dissolves into chaos—fire and darkness consuming everything. When it clears, I stand alone amidst the wreckage, my chest heaving as I struggle to maintain control. Next time, think twice before summoning things you can't handle. I spit the words like they taste of bile even as a part of me hungers for more.

I turn back to face the others—Halia frozen in terror, Abby still pressed against the wall, Hera standing defiant but clearly outmatched. Well? Are we done playing games with forces beyond our comprehension yet? My patience wears thin; this little experiment has already gone too far off script.

CRITICAL CHOICE:

1. Try to re-establish control using magic

2. Attempt to bargain with the entity itself

3. Focus on finding a solution that doesn't involve human sacrifice

4. Something else

I watch in horror as Silra convulses under that thing’s touch—her screams a physical blow to my senses. The sight of her thrashing, helpless form on the floor makes something cold and sharp twist in my gut.

This isn’t what I signed up for. This isn't saving people or exploring ancient mysteries. This is... this is monstrous. What kind of 'extraordinary experience' involves human sacrifice? What kind of party includes this as part of the fun?

I can feel myself trembling, not just with fear but with a rising anger that tastes like bile in the back of my throat. How dare Jeane bring us here knowing full well what would happen? How dare she put Silra—or any of us—in this position?

My fingers tighten around the silver cross at my neck until it digs painfully into my skin—more grounding than comforting right now. I should be praying, finding solace in faith, but the words won’t come. My god didn’t prepare me for this.

I open my mouth to speak—maybe to protest, maybe to beg—but the sight of that creature looming over Silra makes my voice die before it fully forms. What good are my healing spells against something like this? What good am I at all in a situation where magic and faith seem powerless?

My eyes dart around the room, searching for any alternative, any way out. But the walls press closer with each heartbeat—trapping us here with our own twisted desires made manifest.

This is wrong. This is so fucking wrong. And yet... a part of me can’t help but notice how everyone else seems frozen in place by fear or fascination while I’m the only one truly horrified by what’s happening right before my eyes.

Maybe that makes me weak. Maybe it makes me naive. But at least I still have the capacity to be disgusted by our own corruption—unlike some others here who seem all too eager to embrace it.

I take a step back, putting distance between myself and this nightmare unfolding in front of me. This isn't my fight—not like this anyway. My hands may heal but they can’t unmake the evil already loose in this room.

"Jeane," I manage to get out, my voice barely more than a whisper. "What did you do? What have we become?"

CRITICAL CHOICE:

1. Try to re-establish control using magic (ineffective against this entity)

2. Attempt to bargain with the entity itself (equally futile—it answers only to its hunger and Jeane’s summons)

3. Focus on finding a solution that doesn't involve human sacrifice (the only viable path but requires immense creativity and courage)

4. Something else

I stare in horror at Jeane, my mind reeling. What did we get ourselves into? The scene before me is a waking nightmare—Silra writhing on the floor, Halia frozen with fear, Abby pressed against the wall like she's trying to disappear.

And Jeane... god, what has happened to her? She's always been intense but this? Summoning something that can do that and then just standing there watching it happen?

I try to take a step forward—to help Silra or confront Jeane—but my body feels like it's made of lead. My hands ball up into tight knots at my sides, fingers digging hard into my palms.

This isn't right. This isn't how we're supposed to be using our abilities—our gifts. We're here to save people, not... not this.

I swallow hard past the lump in my throat and force myself to speak, trying to keep my voice steady: "Jeane. Stop this. Now." The words come out harsher than I intend but there's no time for delicacy.

She turns at the sound of my voice, her eyes flicking over me with an appraising look that makes my skin crawl. When she speaks again, it's in a mocking tone: "Oh Hera, always so quick to judge. Tell me—what would you do in my place? How else are we supposed to appease our hosts without offering them something... substantial?"

I shake my head vehemently even as a small voice inside me whispers that maybe Jeane's not wrong. That maybe the price of power is always blood.

But I push those thoughts down, trying to focus on what matters now. "We find another way," I insist, hating how uncertain I sound. "There has to be something we can offer besides a human life."

Jeane just laughs—high and brittle like breaking glass. "Oh sweet summer child. You really thought you could come up here and walk away unscathed? That this was all just some game?"

She spreads her arms wide, the shadows at her back twisting into ever more disturbing shapes. "This is power. This is what we came for."

I feel like I'm drowning in my own fear and confusion. But one thing is clear: if no one else will stop Jeane, then it falls to me.

Even if I have no idea how.