There’s a pink, smokish aura from the gong that digs into Lil’s eyes. No. No no no no no! Is it an enchantment? Can I dispel it? I don’t see any runework! It’s more like a spirit reaching out—, glp. A spirit reaching out and possessing Lil, making him approach the gong to ring it. If—, if that’s a spirit in the gong, and it’s already possessing Lil partially—. What happens when it’s completely freed? Does it materialize a body, manifesting it for itself? Or, glp—. Or does it finish fully possessing the host?
My world begins to shatter, time breaks into pieces as Lil continues trotting all the more hastily towards the gong. As I rush to catch up, Lil headbutts the gong before I can even get within a few paces of him. The massive wash of smoky spiritual aura that encompasses him answers my prior questions. It answers and confirms my worst fears. The only thing I can think to do in the moment is to smash and shatter the majority of this gong, at least its frame, as Lil begins to turn upon me, grinning maliciously.
Gulping, I can’t help giving in to the cliche as I shout something that never works, “No, no no no no! Lil, Lil buddy, snap out of it! Come on pal, come to your senses. Kick that thing out!”
Dodging a swipe of Lil’s fore-claws, I shout once more, “Lil, come on! Take control! Take control, and cast that pinkish punk-ish, hellhole smoke rollin’ on in, back out of you!”
This—, glp, this isn’t working. Worse, a voice I recognize calls out through Lil’s mouth, “What’s the matter dance partner? I thought you asked to cut in.”
Vorzog? In, wh-what? But, but, but—. How? Focus Reggie, genre senses. Right. The gong, it’s a phylactery. Launching myself at the gong, I begin laying into it, hammering away at the framework, unable to more than lightly dent the mass of bronzeish metal itself. I ignore my danger wraps’ sensory warnings, hoping to find a way to shatter this thing and free Lil, before too late. Lil’s head is gyrating and vibrating crazily, as if he’s got a split personality that he’s fighting with almost physically over control of his body.
No, no no no no! If Vorzog wanted revenge, if he wanted to hurt me, this is it. This is the way. Taking Lil from me, taking and corrupting my best buddy, and turning him against me, using him to attack me. Choking back sobs, I can’t afford to— Oof! Koff, koff. I forgot how strong Lil is, especially with that storming girdle. What, what’s going on? Something’s happening. Something’s draining from me after the impact.
Dazed from slamming facefirst sideways into the wall, coughing from the impact of Lil’s claws shattering my right ribs yet again, I stagger to my feet, trying to make sense of what my senses are sensing. Blargh. Brain, redundant, hurt. Can’t, can’t dodge in time! Horf! I’m uppercut, sent sailing towards the ceiling, and barely avoid having my skull caved in by the ceiling as I tilt in midair, slamming only lightly up against it as I hit the apex of my climb. Another point of contact from Lil, and something else is draining, something’s happening. I—, I can’t. I can’t think. I can’t orient myself.
Vorzog nearly decapitated me with that earlier uppercut. Now my neck is nearly split and snapped sideways by a haymaker from Lil to my chin, knocking my helmet and circlet off. I’m sent spinning and reeling. I end up skidding on my back across the floor, coughing and spitting up blood. More, more is leaving me, I don’t know what. What am I missing? What, what don’t I remember having? What did I use? I, I had powers, right? I’m, I’m just some humanoid, with some magic gear. How did I get tossed into the deep end of a war with dragonkind? Something is wrong. That’s not right. I’m, I’m married to someone. She wouldn’t have done that. She wouldn’t have sent me to die senselessly, unable to defend myself.
How did I defend myself? Shouldn’t I have some sort of abilities, or powers? I—. Spells, enchanting, shapechanging, that’s right. I had those things. That’s how I infiltrated the keep. Why don’t I remember them? What’s going on? Wait. Oh no. What about dragonforce? That’s a thing I needed, right? Do I still have that? Hooooof!
Blurp. I vomit a torrent of blood as Lil drives his dominant claw into my stomach. Gushing blood, and crying, I fight to stagger away, off of Lil’s limb. Wait, brain, no, don’t do this, please. Please don’t do this. Don’t blame Lil, don’t think of it as Lil’s limb. Remember, it’s Vorzog. Right, right. I, I don’t get it. My muscles feel weaker, I can’t sense any abilities, or figure out how to make magic, or anything. Lil looks more powerful by the second. What’s—.
Vorzog is draining me, my skills, spells, powers, abilities, probably even stats and levels, maybe even memories, in order to gain an even stronger hold over Lil. He’s turning every bit of me into some sort of energy that lets him oppress or suppress Lil further. If Vorzog finishes me, he will completely subsume Lil’s will, trapping, or finishing off Lil’s consciousness, forever.
My limbs quiver with effort as I drag myself away from Vorzog-Lil. I struggle in an attempt to stand, and make it to a mostly hunched crawl. It doesn’t last long though. Slumping, I tumble after limping, and drag myself once more. I’m little more than a bloody lump, leaving a gory smear across the floor of this room. Every bit of motion is a hellish agony as I struggle against the worst weakness I’ve ever felt. My muscles quiver under the strain of even moving the slightest bit of me.
Didn’t, didn’t I have things? Items, magic items, stuff. How. How did they work? Vorzog’s getting closer, oh god. Vorzog has Lil, and he’s going to get me, and he’ll have Lil forever because of my weakness. He sneers while stalking me slowly, toying with me the way a cat plays with a half-dead mouse. I double over from my already hunched position to vomit another torrent of blood. My vision crosses and blurs no matter how hard I try to focus. I prop myself against a wall, trying to fight and struggle to my feet. I can’t, can’t just keep crawling, and dragging.
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Just—, just head, head towards, a, a trap, anything. A commanding voice reaches my psyche, “Sweetie, you’ve gotta split. Jump out the window, now!”
Wh-what? Someone I trust. Something, a silhouette plays a shaky, staticy image in my mind. It’s a flipbook, or stop motion animation, a memory. The person is cheeky. Do what they say when they say it. Bob with bangs. Smiling face. Trust. Believe. Trust. Dragging myself up the edge of the stone wall to the windowsill, the stained glass broken and shattered from the earlier storm, I hurl myself out into the open sky, eleven stories off the ground, as Vorzog-Lil observes me with bemusement.
Plummeting through the sky towards the ground, I should react somehow, I should know something, somehow, do something. Memories, magic, abilities, everything is drained. Didn’t I have something for situations like this? I can’t help hyperventilating in fear. What looks like a river of lightning approaches me. Lightning strikes me. I think.
I find myself surprised that I’m not dead from the lightning strike. Or, whatever is now carrying me. It’s—, it’s a someone, not a thing. She’s a someone. Someone precious, loving, protective. I know her. I know this. She gazes at me with worry, fear and sadness in her eyes. She’s choking back tears, and gulping down her sobs. She needs me to remember. Someone that needs me to remember something. Luni!
As we drift further from where Vorzog-Lil stands at the window of his keep, memories begin flooding back to me, but my powers, abilities, and stats do not. I limply curl into Luni’s embrace, too tired, and hurt, to even cry. My limbs are too weary to even wrap around her, my savior, My Anchor. Oh Lil. Luni’s beloved Lil, my best buddy, my adoptive son in law. No. No. I gain back just enough strength to cry, to sob my heart out.
Vorzog-Lil shapeshifts, and leaps out the window, crashing down into a strong three-point landing, seemingly completely unfazed as he dusts himself off to begin pursuing us at a leisurely pace. His form is a combination of Lil’s human shape, and his own Draconiac scaled visage. We’re approaching the wounded. Lu, what are we doing? We’re going to get people killed. Lil could just breathe fire on all of these wounded people. Sniffling, choking and sobbing, I try pushing myself out of Lu’s embrace, begging her to stop.
Pleading, I cry out, “Lu, stop, please! We can’t let him just kill everyone!”
Desperate to not bring harm to others, I wriggle, and drop from Luni’s embrace. She lands next to me and her voice seems to fritz as she coughs while she whispers, “It’s okay sweetie. Look. K—. He’s coming, and everything is going to be okay—. K—. He’s going to take care of everything.”
My gaze is frantic as it turns towards Luni in wide-eyed horror, momentarily believing she’d set me up, that she’s somehow on Vorzog-Lil’s side. There’s heartbreak in her eyes at the accusatory nature of my thoughts. She’s pointing somewhere, at someone. Oh. Our son. Lucky. Lucky’s coming, and everything is going to be okay. Lucky’s going to take care of everything. Lucky sails through the air, and meets Vorzog-Lil head on. I, I can’t watch. I can’t bear it if one of them kills the other. Lu, what are you thinking?
I crumple further inward on myself and sob, bawling my eyes out into my palms. Lucky begins engaging a slew of abilities, abilities that I’d granted him. Lucky manifests an eighth tier monstrous mana construct, but his are special. Lucky calls into being three creatures that seem like male eagle-harpies. They’re all endowed with seemingly enchanted platemail, and their shields and armor are adorned with sigils, symbols of faith, belief, strength in unity. My genre senses say that they’re paladins of some unknown faith or deity.
Wait. Paladins. Hellfire-skeletons? Undead? Phylactery? Lich. Phylactery. Lich, phylactery. Lucky you’re a genius! Struggling against Lu’s comforting hand that feels so heavy a weight atop my shoulders, I reach my full height, and fight every inch of myself for every last bit of energy I can muster. I spy FFS taking care of the prisoners, the wounded. That’s quite an odd job for an elemental whose nature I usually rely on to cause carnage and chaos. It’s also not what I need to pay attention to though. Every bit of me aching, I agonizingly slowly work to equip my holy halefire double-barreled wrist crossbow.
My eyes cross, my vision doubles, and I wobble once more. I try to raise my arm, to take aim, but Luni stops me, shaking her head. What? But, but—. She shakes her head and smiles softly at me as she whispers, “Not yet, Hero, not yet. Just a little longer. You’re so brave, and so good. You’re so good. You always have been, and always will be. It’s okay sweetie. I love you, Lucky and Lil do too. We’ve all got this, always have, and always will.”
I choke on a sob as I lean into Luni’s embrace. My limbs quiver and quake with the strain of even existing. Gazing down, I even appear emaciated. I’ve been drained of most everything. I—, I need moisture, nutrients. I—, hah, thank you Chuck. I could almost cry, no, I do cry, as I loose a few laughs, and begin eating soft, moist cheeses. Wow, these are fragrant, and have an incredibly strong flavor. I’m suddenly feeling much more alert. I’d almost think these were laced with cocaine or something to—. Crap. Haha. No wonder Chuck seemed to be nearly dying on the toilet. Someone laced his cheese with stimulants, and perhaps laxatives. My guts burble incessantly, despite having no sort of gastric system to speak of.
My body decides that it can’t handle the chemical concoction lacing the cheese, and I loose up my sick once more, though with far less blood than the last few times. Gazing down at myself, I’m surprised when I see talons covered in armor. They aren’t mine, but it’s a surprise that something has invaded my personal bubble so closely so quickly without me taking note of it until now. An eagle-like humanoid has landed before me. He makes squawking noises at me, but, as usual for Reggie Shellcracker, there’s a language barrier to overcome. I sigh quietly to myself, unsure what exactly to do here. Luni nudges me, and nods towards the bird-man.
I tip, and tumble into the bird-man’s grasp, and begin to feel vitalized and invigorated. I don’t think anything is really returning, but I feel healthier, and much-less like I’m going to drop dead any moment from weariness and muscle-exhaustion. Perhaps he did remove some of the curses that Vorzog was able to layer upon me that prevented me from accessing some of my statistics or abilities though. At the very least, I’m pretty certain I recall how to use my equipment again, and the majority of my magic items no longer seem to be mysteriously non-functional upon me.
Despite the curative magics, my guts burble a bit, and I’m caught burping up some disgusting gases and acidic, bile-like liquid. Loosing the grossness to my side, I find myself hoisted by the bird-man. I’m still worried though. I don’t know what or when I should be looking out for, in order to strike back against Vorzog. The bird-man flies us into a position where we can watch Lucky holding his own against Vorzog-Lil, as Vorzog attempts to learn and commandeer more and more of Lil’s powers and abilities. We need to split Vorzog’s essence from Lil in the next few moments, or I’m afraid I’ll lose Lil forever.