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Even with Orge down and out for the count, there isn’t anyone in the immediate area who isn’t high strung. The tension in the air is thick enough to cut with a knife as everyone, demons and humans alike, collapses against a tree or wayward stone to catch their breath. God only knows how much noise your battle made, and the possibility of running into another demon is all too real.

Vicky pushes up her faceplate with an audible CLANK, and, with a look of visible fatigue on her face, succinctly describes the current mood among the squad in a tiny voice: “…that could’ve gone better.”

Silence…and then Fitz begins to laugh uncontrollably.

Eventually, the five of you are able to pick yourselves back up and take a full look at yourselves. Other than a few bruises and some injured demons, no one seems to be incapacitated or otherwise incapable of continuing on with the mission. And even those are short-lived. A quick healing spell from High Pixie addresses a majority of everyone’s aches and pains.

The most grievous injury, however, went towards Hairy Jack. It was a miracle that the tree branch Ogre impaled him on missed everything vital, as far as you can tell. Other than what looks like a thicker musculature and bone density, Brady’s demon doesn’t look any different from any other normal dog. The branch went through and through, punching through the ribcage and only pushing aside organs as opposed to obliterating them outright.

A single Recarm spell is enough to seal the terrible injury, and bring the dog back to consciousness. Although judging from the way High Pixie is screaming in panic as a grateful Hairy Jack chases her…eh, she’ll be fine. Maybe you should get her something to make up for putting up with two very enthusiastic doggos in a single day.

“Okay, okay, enough clowning around,” you call, clapping your hands together. “Remember, guys, demon-infested swamp. Let’s clean up as best we can before heading out.”

“What about Ogre?” Vicky asks, gesturing to the unconscious, bleeding body of said demon. “As…nice as he was, is it really okay to just leave him lying around?”

MacKay shakes his head. “Agreed. I’m not an expert on the healing rate of demons, but from what he inferred before he collapsed, whatever contract he’s bound by will force him to fight should he regain consciousness. That is not something I'm particularly enthusiastic about...”

Fitz struts over to Ogre, jabbing at him with the steel toe of her combat boots. After finding a satisfactory lack of response, she taps her shotgun, a grim look on her face. “Realistically, the only way we’d be really sure about him not getting’ back up is to neutralize him for good-”

(cont.)

“Jesus fucking Christ, Fitz,” Brady cuts in, an indignant expression on his face, “Could you tone it down a little? That’s a little too much, don’t you think?”

She shrugs, scowling. “I’m just callin’ it as I see it. No need to bite my goddamn head off, Brady. Takin’ him out while he’s down is the only way he ain’t gonna be able hurt anyone anymore.”

He snorts derisively. “Huh. If that’s what you’re advocating for, then I guess you really were a cop-”

You stop midstep, intent on breaking it up before things got heated, but it’s too late. Even before Brady finishes his sentence, the temperature of the clearing drops by several degrees. And honestly? The fact that Fitz isn’t shouting back or outright cussing is an extremely worrying sign, a sentiment shared by Vicky and MacKay as they shoot you looks of alarm.

“…say that again to my face, Brady.” The look on her face is a far cry from the amicable belligerence of her usual attitude. The sensors on your headset pick up the audible CREAK of her shotgun as she grips it tight enough for the metal to groan. “Why don’t you say that again to my fucking face? Unless you don’t have the stones for it, you limp-dicked-”

This has gone on far too long.

Dialing the speaker of your DEMONICA to an almost uncomfortable volume, you shout, loud enough for everybody to wince through the white noise, “Okay, okay, that’s enough! Are you two seriously doing this right now? We’ve got enough enemies in the woods without having to worry about fighting among ourselves!”

They offer no response. Both of them go silent, but the tight-lipped, lingering glare they flash each other suggests that their little "argument" is far from over.

>Chastise Brady.
>Chastise Fitz.
>Chastise them both. [HIGH SOCIAL DC]
>Reprimand them later.

>>2843377
>>Chastise them both. [HIGH SOCIAL DC]

>>2843377
First for fugging fitz /s
Good to see the quest running again, Kaz.

We can't afford to have unit cohesion falter right now, so I'm leaning towards reprimanding both. Would that be two DC, one for Brady and one for Fitz, considering we have Lady Killer, or just one DC for both of them Kaz?

>>2843377
>>Chastise Brady.
That was way out of line. Considering her usual attitude, that was a mellow reaction for her.

>>2843393
Adding on to this.
>Brady, stopping trying to provoke Fitz when she's trying to be through and keep all of our asses alive.
>Fitz don't fucking threatened Brady even if he was acting like an ass.
>Both of you, stop getting into a dick measuring contest like a bunch of high schoolers and get your head on mission.

>>2843377
>>Chastise them both. [HIGH SOCIAL DC]

>>2843394
My DM tabletop instincts says two, but my gut says one DC for the both of them given the fact that you're speaking as a squad leader and not as their friend. Although both are gonna respond in their own way, (i.e. having different thresholds), but any miss-rolls you make can always be patched after the mission.

>>2843377
>Chastise them both. [HIGH SOCIAL DC]
"Fitz you know better to rise to that bullshit. We don't threaten teammates, even if they are making an ass out of themselves."

"Brady that was incredibly uncalled for and you will not try to start shit again while you are in my squad on mission. If you want to advocate against a suggestion don't be a prick about it. Is that understood? We are also going to talk later about you breaking formation to save Jack.

>>2843399
Don't say
>Both of you, stop getting into a dick measuring contest like a bunch of high schoolers and get your head on mission.

Cause that isn't what they are doing.

>>2843402
Sounds about right to me.
>>Chastise them both. [HIGH SOCIAL DC]

I'll support the gist of what this anon is suggesting >>2843408

>>2843393
>>2843394
>>2843399
>>2843401
>>2843408
This is neither the time nor the place for settling inter-squad arguments, but the last thing you need is a complete and utter meltdown of squad cohesion. Oh for fuck’s sake…

“Fitz…” The policewoman flashes you a belligerent look as you approach her first. “You know better than to rise to that BS. Don’t rise to the bait, and don’t threaten teammates…” Pausing, you add under your breath, “Even if they are making an ass of themselves.”

Turning away from her, you regard Brady with…well, it isn’t necessarily hostile as much as it is that of “really, dude?” and wariness. “I honestly don’t even know where to begin,” you say, “But let me just get this out of the way: in no way, shape or form was that called for. Do not start shit, especially when we’re on a mission, and especially when you’re in my squad. If you want to make an alternative suggestion, then you don’t need to be a jerk about it? Alright?

“Also…” Your eyes lower down towards the bloodstains on his arms. “I get that you value your demons a whole lot. And we do, too. But we’re gonna also have some words about you breaking formation. Nothing now, but…later. Understood?”

>Roll 1d100+20 Social.
>Best out of three.

Rolled 4 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>2843443

Rolled 19 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>2843443

Kaz is here? what a strange world we live in

Rolled 39 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>2843443
Nat 1 baby

>>2843455
>>2843456
>>2843457
>tfw when tabbing back just in time to see us job at our forte
Oh boy

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Great. Brady is going to become even that much more insufferable.

>>2843485
It's okay anon, we'll just have to use the power of friendship™

>>2843485
He seems to be slowly turning into a bleeding heart over time, which is odd given our line of work.

Also, how many different images is that image made of?

>>2843463
At first thought it was a great roll then I remembered that it was d100...

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>>2843500
>Also, how many different images is that image made of?

Not sure.

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>>2843455
>>2843456
>>2843457
“…fine, fine!” Brady grimaces. “Okay…yeah, mate. I’m…I’ll be all sorted out for the rest of the mission…so long as she is.”

The smile she gives him is placid in every single wrong way. “Yeah…so long you are too, Brady-boy…I ain’t gonna have too much of a problem…for the remainder of the outin’, at least.”

…on one hand, crisis averted. They’ll behave themselves for the rest of the mission. But you’ll eat gauze if you think that their argument is anywhere near being resolved. They’ll keep each other alive for the rest of the mission, if only to make sure that they’ll be able to shout at the other once everyone gets back to base.

Christ, they aren’t paying you enough for this shit.

>Fitz disapproves -10.
>Brady disapproves -10.

A brusque cough interrupts the three of you. MacKay manages to draw everybody’s attention from the tense air between the three of you. “If you’re all quite finished,” he intones, “Then may I suggest that we get back to the task at hand?”

Vicky remains on edge as the five of you regroup around the comatose ogre. The mechanic seems to be torn at casting worrying looks between both of them. Seems that she’s equal friends of both and unsure of where she’s going to side. Impartially, you hope, but that might be too much to ask. It’s going to be a coin toss for sure.

“So…Arachne, huh?”

Everybody’s eyes shift towards Pixie. The fairy, bless her little heart, strokes her chin in the mnemonic of a thinker’s pose. At the sudden attention, heat floods her cheeks, and she waves her hands frantically. “I-it’s the only obvious answer! The ogre said that his mistress was ‘the Mother of Spiders’, right? I’m not the most worldly of fairies, but even I know my mythology.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of your lip. “That’s right. Arachne is the most obvious answer, but unless there are other Mothers of Spiders from other mythologies and legends I don’t know about…”

Brady holsters his gun, pulling up his COMP with a few taps of his fingers. “…there’s a whole bloody lot of them. Sumerian goddess Uttu…Egyptian goddess Neith…African creation deity Anasi…”

“In other words,” MacKay gently cuts in, “We simply do not know. There are too many possibilities for us to be certain.”

Casting a look to the unconscious demon, Vicky sullenly mutters, “If only the ogre was a little more forthcoming with the details of his mistress…”

And you can’t exactly wake him up either. But since everybody’s attention is now on the ogre proper, perhaps it’s now best the time to address that little situation. “Whoever the goddess, we still need to take care of this fellow over here. Can’t just leave him lying around…”

All eyes are on you as you consider your options…

>Kill the ogre. You’re not taking any chances.
>Restrain the ogre. Come back for it later.
>Custom option.

>>2843571
How could we even restrain this guy?

>>2843577
Freeze him in a magical block of ice with a Bufu spell? Not like he's awake, not to mention strong enough to bust out in his current wounded state.

>>2843579
Mmmk. I was worried cause we didn't have the Bind ailment but that works too.

>>2843571
>Restrain the ogre. Come back for it later.

>>2843571
>Restrain the ogre. Come back for it later.

>>2843571
>Restrain the ogre. Come back for it later.

>>2843571
>>Kill the ogre. You’re not taking any chances.

>>2843571
>>Restrain the ogre. Come back for it later.
The guy's an ok sort. Just don't make us roll for the ice

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>>2843583
>>2843585
>>2843586
>>2843588
>>2843657
>>2843657
>>You restrain the ogre in a block of ice and several layers of weakening spells.
>>Brady approves +15
>>Fitz disapproves -8

If you were a danger enough for the demon’s personal bodyguard to come out and fight, then the entrance to said demon’s Domain must be nearby. Deciding to follow the ogre’s trail as best you can, the five of you set off once more into the woods, guns and demons at the ready. The unconscious demon is soon left behind, trapped in his makeshift prison of ice and magic, quickly disappearing as you likewise vanish into the undergrowth.

Between your navigation applications and the tracking abilities of your demons, finding a warm trail does not take too long. Within minutes, you find yourselves on the reverse path that the ogre took to follow you.

But as you travel deeper into the forest, every single step brings about a profound change. The overhead light of the late afternoon quickly disappears, and the overhead canopy thickens into a curtain of twisting branches and leafy vines.
What little light of the forest comes in tiny pockets of sun that poke through the tangled overgrowth, creating a darkness not profound enough for a switch to infrared vision, but enough to cause sweat to break across your brow.

There are no sounds of birds, no wind that rustles through the trees. Every single twig snapped underfoot or branch falling in the distance raises gooseflesh and rifles alike, guns and demons aiming at shadows in the undergrowth. By some tender mercy, the swampy forest lets you pass unmolested, but between the maddening silence and the thickening tension, you’d almost welcome a distraction.

“Eenie…meanie…miney…there!” High Pixie’s face breaks out into one of smug triumph and she zips away down the path ahead of you. “Follow me, Master Adrian. The entrance is just right up ahead!”

The entrance appears to be a stagnant pond, a fetid and steaming pool of water ringed by a copse of willow, oak, maple and chestnut. Not all are alive, and some have long since collapsed, little more than exhibits in various stages of decay. Mosquitoes and flies hover above the surface, disturbing the reflections of hunched and withering plant life.

If not for the lack of a discernible bottom, and the fact that your COMP is going haywire at the signature of demonic magic, you’d have thought this to be an ordinary, albeit smelly, pond.

Gesturing for the rest of the group to set up a perimeter, you crouch, thumbing the side of your helmet. A brief hiss of white static perforates your ears before simmering down into the low rumbles of white noise communication.

“Burning Sky, Squad Bootes, this is Carina-Actual, do you read? Carina Squad has located the entrance to the demon’s domain, requesting sit-rep for the rest of the company, over?”

(cont.)

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>>2843684
The lack of a response for the first minute does not worry you at first. But as you try communicating with them again, for a total of five times over the course of ten minutes, the anxiety is nearly impossible to stave off. On all frequencies, from the general frequency to the emergency tightbeam, there is no response from either the pilot or your fellow Devil Summoners.

“It’s gotta be some kind of jamming,” Brady suggests when you report your findings. “Though buggered if I can’t figure out what it is.”

Vicky frowns. “But we aren’t even in the Domain yet! The manual says that interference with our hardware only comes into effect once we’re in the envelopment cloud…or space.”

“Rules are meant to be broken,” Fitz drawls, casting a withering glance towards the pool. “But on the off-chance that the demon ain’t fuckin’ with our equipment from beyond its hidin’ hole…” Her voice trails off on an ominous tone.

“Then it means that something has happened to both Burning Sky and Bootes Squad that is preventing their communication,” MacKay finishes grimly. The priest looks particularly somber as he delivers the only conclusion that you can find. “And if not…nobody knows where we are, save for our last general location.”

Cripes, what a mess. What the hell are you supposed to do?

“We could split up?” Vicky suggests, “Send three people into the Domain, and two re-establish comms with the others. Or even one person who has the best and strongest demons…”

Fitz grunts, “Or we could hold off divin’ into that shithole and rendezvous with the rest of them. Make sure that they’re all squared away and alright before we do some housecleanin’.”

Everybody has their own ideas and suggestions, but ultimately, MacKay dispels them with a decisive wave of his hand. “It’s your choice, Adrian. What should we do?”

>Backtrack and take everybody to regroup with Bootes.
>Split the party between the Domain and regrouping.
>Take the entirety of Squad Carina into the Domain.
>Custom option.

>>2843738
>Take the entirety of Squad Carina into the Domain.

>>2843738
>Take the entirety of Squad Carina into the Domain.

Let's stick with the mission and kill this Mother of Spiders ASAP. That'll take the pressure off of Bootes which they are counting on us to do. Hell we make enough noise here the rogue devil summoners might come to assist this Mother giving Bootes time to flank.

>>2843738
>>Take the entirety of Squad Carina into the Domain.
If they are already dead back tracking won't help
If they are alive and fighting ending this sooner will help more than going back and forth wearing ourselves down

>>2843738
>Take the entirety of Squad Carina into the Domain.

Splitting our forces sounds like a recipe for disaster if comms between unit members are also down.

>>2843738
Hey Kaz, you ever make a gif of that DSP animation on your twitter and you willing to post it?

>>2843877
Oh yeah. Man, that's been over a year now, huh? You'll have to wait until tomorrow for that, though. That's on a different computer than the one I use to type. And After Effects went through a few updates since I last worked on it, so I'll have to spend some time fine-tuning it before I can get a final version out.

>>2843907
Neat, thanks. That thing is really cool.

>>2843738
>Take the entirety of Squad Carina into the Domain.

Lets do this

So we done for the night?

>>2844288
Not yet. Just gotta take care of a quick errand and I'll be back in an hour-ish.

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>>2843919
Here's the gif, anon. Sorry it took a while to get to you.

Writing...

>>2843748
>>2843767
>>2843774
>>2843775
>>2843986
Is there even a more obvious answer?

“We keep going, we complete the mission we chose,” you say emphatically. “And I’m more than willing to bet that this whole communications fuckup…they’re still alive. If those guys’ve been busting demons long enough to get nicknames and official call signs, then I have severe doubts that some amateur devil summoners would be able to take them out.”

Your words restore some confidence in the rest of the team. Their worry hasn’t left them completely, but they’ll be focused on the task at hand. Because once they’re done, you’ll all be able to answer that burning instinct in your gut to go help out the rest of your fellow operatives.

“‘Come into my parlor…’” You mutter, gathering both your squad and your nerves. “Is everybody ready?” One by one, everybody sounds off, confirming that they’re all squared away and braced for the incoming breach.

Fitz claps you on the shoulder as she takes point at your side. The former cop flashes you a cocky grin before slamming the plate of her helmet shut. And even through the dry and static hiss of the comms relay, you can still hear the smirk in her words. “We’re right behind ya, Sawbones. So don’t worry about gettin’ the jitters for your first breach. Once ya pop that cherry, it'll be easier.”

Even as you bark out a laugh, an odd mixture of warmth and confidence spreads throughout your body in spite of her crassness. But before you can explore those feelings any further, you gesture for everybody to take up positions. And in an instant, all of Carina Squad are ready to breach into the Domain of the Mother of Spiders.

“Alright…on my count of three…” You intone, flicking the safety off of your gun. “One…two…three! Go, go, go, go!”

Fitz is the first one to dive in, leaping off the side and into the water with a wild and gleeful yell. The rest follow quickly, you, Brady, Vicky and MacKay who has the rear. And even before your friends touch the water, the surface almost seems to ripple, trembling as five humans and their demons are about to touch down.

There’s a sudden shift in the wind, and a noise unlike any other you’ve heard. And as soon as your feet touch the water, the entirety of your world shifts.

Reality seems to bleed away into a mess of colors, a vignette of noise and chaos. The closest thing you can describe it is like the sound of something swallowing you, and it’s all you can do to resist the urge to panic. Your nerves hold, but as the surrounding area disappears, trees and foliage giving way to colorless patterns, the sudden claustrophobia and limited vision of the DEMONICA becomes too apparent, too hot, too tight...

(cont.)

>>2844608
But the sensation is fleeting. Within another few heartbeats, reality asserts itself once more on you, as well as gravity. And it is in a tangle of flailing limbs and a screaming High Pixie that finds the both of you almost spat onto the floor of something too wet and yielding to be earth or soil.

“Ow…motherfucker…” Cursing as you collect yourself, you quickly bring your weapon about as you scan the surrounding area…

>Roll 1d100
>Best out of three.

Rolled 85 (1d100)

>>2844612

Rolled 71 (1d100)

>>2844608

Rolled 9 (1d100)

>>2844612
I sleep

>>2844562
Eh, time is a thing. Thanks though, man.

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>>2844613
>>2844614
>>2844617
>Carina squad did not scatter.

…to find everybody in a similar array…or, disarray, rather. Groaning and muttering their own curses and profanities, they quickly come back around you and fall back into formation. Once you ascertain that there are no immediate threats in the vicinity, you allow yourself a momentary breath, and gesture for everybody to lower their weapons.

The best way you can describe the current area would be that of the entrance to a very long hallway. The floors, the walls, the ceiling…almost everything appears to be organic. Yellow-brown tendrils are spread along all surfaces, and you swear that you could see the corridor constrict ever-so-slightly, like a living organ. Reinforcing that particularly nasty idea is the sight of red lights traveling along the tendrils, crimson pulses that race from ground, wall, ceiling and ground again in sporadic, random cycles.

With everybody’s faceplates down, there’s no way of reading their expressions or gauging their reactions. But from the way Brady’s hands seem to clench nervously, and how Vicky’s helmet darts from one end of the room to the other, it seems that the sight has had just as much of an effect of unsettling them as you.

“…Ridley Scott references and quotes are banned.”

The words come out of your mouth before you can think, but Brady releases a hysterical laugh. Not long after, MacKay begins to shake in quiet, restrained chortling. Only Fitz and Vicky seem to be confused, though not nervous anymore (at least in the mechanic’s case).

Uncultured philistines, the two of them. But that can be rectified on movie night. Regardless, laughter proves to be an effective treatment against the fear. The others have returned to some vestige of calm, or as calm as they can be in the Domain of a powerful demon. And receiving orders gives them something else to think about beyond the impending danger.

“Close ranks, stay in tight formation. Do not even think about splitting up, and stay in constant communication. Brady, think you can make a map with your COMP? Does anybody have any elemental ammunition for Fitz’s shotgun…”

The minimap on your HUD is useless, A command to the VI in your helmet dispels it, replacing it with the icon of a dancing creature. The proximity alarm will alert you to the presence of demons, swiftly changing from green to orange, and then a violent red upon contact with a hostile entity. The icon is currently green, but you have little doubt that it’s going to change colors more than once for the duration of this operation.

It’s a small comfort that the halls are wide enough for six. There is more than enough room to accommodate your formation, or leave enough room for a fight.

Gesturing towards the hallway, you raise your fist in a gesture of solidarity. “Keep an eye on that proximity alarm and keep up the chatter. Let’s go hunting.”

>Roll 1d100 for Encounter.
>Best of three.

Rolled 83 (1d100)

>>2844657

Rolled 47 (1d100)

>>2844657

Rolled 27 (1d100)

>>2844657

Rolled 99 (1d100)

>>2844657

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923 B PNG

>>2844662
>>2844665
>>2844670
Constant communication not only keeps morale up, but ensures that everybody is where they are. Nothing straight from H.R. Giger’s wet dreams have come out of hidden ducts and absconded with squaddies without your notice. Inevitably, the deeper you travel, the more the group finds itself desperately searching for something to talk about.

But regardless of radio discipline, the demons that you do encounter are barely worth noting. Slimes, Pretas…all weaklings that were disposed of with carefully placed gunfire and physical attacks. Nothing nearly capable of serious injury, but it’s when one’s guard is down that the demon gets them. Everybody is too trigger-happy to relax, anyway.

At any rate, it seems that the strongest fighters of the Domain have more or less vanished. Perhaps Bootes was raising a hell that required their hard hitters to leave the “garrison”. Not that you’re complaining. The less enemies, the weaker the foes you have to deal with on your way to the center of the Domain, the better.

“…do you hear something?”

Vicky cuts through an interesting story about MacKay and a seminarian prank gone wrong, and everybody clams up in an instant.

“I didn’t hear anythin’,” Fitz mutters. “How ‘bout y’all?”

Though your responses vary in verbiage, the men of the squad testify that they, too, have heard nothing. Behind her faceplate, you can imagine the mechanic rolling her eyes before she starts to tap on her COMP.

“I’m not going crazy…” she mutters, opening up a new panel in everybody’s HUD. “…it had to have been…just around…there! Playback audio from twenty seconds ago.”

“What exactly are we-”

“Shhh!” She cuts off Brady before he can raise any sort of question. “Just listen!”

For a few seconds, the audio playback is nearly a flat line, marred only by the sound of your squad’s movements and the eerie noises of the Domain interior. Then, it’s only for a moment, you can see something register at the highest end of the frequency scanner. It’s at best a trill, not quite a screech, that comes and goes in cyclical waves.

“That’s bloody strange,” Brady comments, and you can hear the disbelief in his voice. “That high up, that sound should’ve fucked with my implant, let alone reached me.”

Vicky raps the side of her helmet. “Adjustable audio input and insulation,” she declares with a definite smugness. “Here, you can adjust the sensitivity in the settings…lemme see…”

But before she can even take a step in his direction, the noise comes again. This time, you can hear it. With each heartbeat, the noise grows louder, and the time between cycles is cut shorter, shorter, to the point of being an incessant trill…no, it isn’t a trill. It’s almost like…skittering.

(cont.)

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Without any warning, the proximity alarm in everybody’s suit goes off, and the dancing icon flares with a bright and bloody crimson light. You stare, equal parts amazed and alarmed, as the icon multiplies, becoming two, three, four, before ending at five symbols of incoming demons.

“It’s a goddamn Horde,” you curse. “A goddamn fucking demon Horde.”

“Hey, look on the bright side,” Fitz drawls, pumping her shotgun with savage enthusiasm, “’least we’re guaranteed to hit somethin’.”

Brady is not nearly amused. “A small bloody comfort that’s gonna be!”

The unflappable MacKay quickly assesses the situation. “They’re coming in from the northern side in a large concentration of demonic mass and energy…ETA is about twenty seconds for them to turn the corridor, another fifteen to reach our position at their current speed.”

A veritable eternity. And more than enough time to bunker down and set up a crude firing position.

“Demons, MGs to the front!” You order, and Victoria and MacKay fall in line beside Fitz. They summon their demons, and the familiar sights of Hua Po, Lham Dearg and Gremlin take up positions alongside their newer comrades. “Shoot anything that looks like it might be a leader.”

Nobody needs clarification for who that order goes to. Brady nods, taking aim with his rifle. “Understood.”

High Pixie takes up position beside your shoulder, streams of energy crackling at her fingertips. “We’re ready when you are, Master! Let’s give those demons a good beat-”

The bravado in her words quickly dies, and even in the dim lighting of the corridor, you can see her face pale as the demons turn the corner. And they are soon replaced by a panicked screaming.

“ingaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Spirit animal, thy name is High Pixie. Because it turns out that you’re living in one of Geiger’s wet dreams after all.

There are dozens of them, a heaving mass of spindling legs and too many eyes, a wave of disgust and horror. These demons propel themselves forward on chitin legs too thin to support the bulk of their central mass. It’s entire body is that of an infantile human’s torso and a skull to match, with grubby hands that claw at nothing and beady eyes that stare at everything.

As your HUD struggles to put targeting vectors on all of them, you are dimly aware of somebody’s voice channel flocculating with the terror of their own screaming.
“mOtHEr?” “wHErE iS mOtHEr?” “hUMaNs cANnOt Be MoTHeR.” “dEvOuR tHEm, MoTHeR?”


(cont.)

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To make matters worse, these creatures are not alone. Traveling among the tide, like debris being borne across the sea of writhing bodies, another set of demons are present among the horde. These are unholy fusions, a horrific contrast: beautiful women from their lustrous hair, perfect features and generous bosoms, but their humanity ends at their waists. Where there might be legs, hips, groins, there is naught but the slimy, writhing pale-green flesh of a worm, struggling on pointed legs to propel themselves forward.

“There they are, children!” One of the demon women groans, pointing with a finger towards your group. “These are the ones who would harm your Mother!” Devour them, rend them, kill them all!”
And the demons surge forward with a frenzied cry.

…

MacKay manages to summarize the group’s current feelings in a succinct and brief expression.
“Oh dear.”

>Roll 1d100+30 Combat.
>Best out of three.

Rolled 51 + 30 (1d100 + 30)

>>2845939
We should summon Pyro Jack and have him Maragi the horde if we get the chance.

Rolled 59 + 30 (1d100 + 30)

>>2845939

Rolled 1 + 30 (1d100 + 30)

>>2845939

File: Things are getting spooky.gif (87 KB, 192x197)

87 KB GIF

>>2845966

File: 1aa.jpg (52 KB, 737x737)

52 KB JPG

>>2845966

File: 1506970253827.gif (1.96 MB, 250x195)

1.96 MB GIF

>>2845966
Yup

>>2845944
>>2845950
>>2845966
Everything goes well at first. Pyro Jack quickly answers your summons, and takes to burning the spider demons with vigorous enthusiasm. The squad maintains cohesion, emptying everything they have into the oncoming horde. Between bullet and magical blast, claw and enchanted shot, Carina holds the line with successful results.

The insectoid/arachnid demons, identified as Ubu and Okiku-Mushi, are not fond at all of Fire, but it turns out, they have a particular loathing towards Lightning. High Pixie is perhaps too enthusiastic as she delivers volley upon volley of Mazio spells, all the while screaming profanities and obscenities at the top of her little voice. It seems that your first demon, for all her bravado, is possessed of a strong fear of spiders.

“Does anybody have a shoe!?” Vicky shouts, slamming a fresh clip into her rifle. “A boot, anything?”
You can hear MacKay hiss over the comm as a projectile manages a lucky shot towards his head. The needle deflects with a noisy clang, but even the good priest is forced to take a step back. “I fail to see how this has to do with the current subject.”

“It’s the legend! Throw them a shoe, and they’ll leave you alone.” She answers, opening fire on a group that scuttles along the ceiling. They explode into demonic gore, their flesh turning into a red and viscous jelly as they crash onto the ground. “…I shouldn’t be this chevalier about murdering demons that look like babies, my goodness…”

Brady is nowhere near amused, cursing vindictively as he puts a round between an Okiku-Mushi’s eyes. The force of the impact knocks the worm-woman back, halting whatever spell she was planning to cast. “A shoe?! We’d need a bloody department store’s worth of them to get these buggers off of our back-”

“Less talking, more shooting!” Fitz roars, blasting an incoming wave of Ubu with an incendiary shot. “Run your gun, not your mouth-”

And then everything promptly goes to shit.

The hammer of your rifle slams on an empty chamber. You step back from the front, quickly trading places with MacKay to reload your gun. But as your finger goes to the magazine on your harness, you can feel the ground tremble, even through the thick material of the DEMONICA suit.

Without warning, a sudden pressure encases your legs in a vice-like grip. They pause only for the slightest moment, finding their purchase against the DEMONICA suit. Then, a quiet groan as the plating resists, then cracks under the pressure, and the bones of your lower leg shatter along with them.

For a moment, there is no pain. And then in a heartbeat, it suddenly feels like someone has poured molten lead into your body.

Your scream of pain cuts through the din of battle. Everybody stops, demons and humans on both sides alike. As one, they turn to the horrific sight of your lower body slowly being crushed by two monstrous, claw-like appendages.

(cont.)

File: 07-07rimfog.jpg (11 KB, 640x480)

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“Sawbones!” “Boss!” “MASTER!”

The last sight you have is of your squad breaking ranks, all four of them desperately trying to reach you. And for a fleeting moment, you think that you might reach out, throw away your rifle to take one of their hands in a desperate bid to get free.

Alas, that is not the case. The pressure changes, and you are pulled through the ground in a violent motion. The panicked forms of your team disappear, and the entirety of your HUD is nothing but alarm systems and injury alerts against a void of nothingness.

A sharp blow to your head. Hard enough to crack the helmet. Sudden pain, like a lance through your frontal lobe. Blood fills the helmet, staining your HUD in a deep and crimson red.

And then…

“You seem to pick the most unusual moments for us to meet.”

The smell of open soil and earth. A fog so thick you can barely see your arm. The sensation of a moist and virgin soil seeping through your bare and naked feet.

“I would hope that the others did not give such a bad impression of us since our last meeting.”

A familiar shape, a familiar voice. A half-forgotten memory from almost an eternity ago. Then…

“…you.” And your voice is suddenly filled with an uncharacteristic loathing and disgust.

Beneath her hood of mist and fog, you are dimly aware of the Crone’s mouth twisting in a cold smile. “It’s been a very long time, Son of Man. Alas, if only the circumstances were a little more pleasant…”

>“Don’t have any time to deal with this.”
>“It’s only pleasant with the others…not you.”
>“What the fuck do you want?”
>Custom option.

>>2846115
>"If you're not about to offer help, then I'm going to spend this time thinking up a battle plan."

>>2846115
>time had better be slower here than in the waking world or else i'll be in no shape to help anyone in a few seconds.

>>2846115
>“Don’t have any time to deal with this.”
"I'm think my leg is gone and I am going to need be out there instead of in here so I don't lose anymore."

>>2846115
>>“Don’t have any time to deal with this.”

>>2846119
Supporting this

>>2846115
>>“Don’t have any time to deal with this.”

>>2846119
>>2846121
>>2846123
>>2846130
>>2846133
>>2846146
In this dream-like state, it seems that the injuries from the waking world do not carry over. After all, you’re standing, and there’s no sense of pain at all. A cursory inspection reveals that you are indeed absent of any sort of injuries.

“…Son of Man.”

You’re not a betting man, but you’d place your tuition on the Mother of Spiders as the primary culprit. Only the master of the Domain would have that level of mastery to warp the territory as they saw fit. Was this some kind of pincer operation then, where her “children” distract you and she plucks you one by one?

“…have you been struck dumb since the last time we met?”

It could have been bad luck, but it could just be that as well. The worry you have for your squad is only mitigated somewhat by MacKay’s presence. The priest is more than capable of being a temporary leader in your absence. All that’s left to figure out is establishing contact with them once more. He’d have to have gotten the rest of the squad out of that corridor after you disappeared-

The only warning you have is the sound of the soil angry churning before you are struck across the face. Snapping out of your thoughts, cursing at the pain, you turn to see the coalescing form of the Crone pulling back a vaguely-defined hand.

“It’s discourteous to ignore a woman when she’s calling for your attention,” she snaps, “Not to mention extremely rude to pace around like some moon-struck fool.”

The memory of your last encounter has not been forgotten. But in spite of what she’s capable of, you’re not nearly that concerned with playing too nice. Between kicking yourself for your own stupidity and the anger of not being in the waking world, you couldn’t give a single flying fuck about manners, forgotten goddess or not.

“If you’re not about to offer help, then I’m going to spend this time thinking of a battle plan,” you answer curtly. “Because if time is slower here than when I’m awake, I’d better be putting to good use when I wake up.”

“If you wake up, mortal,” the Crone says dismissively, almost with a bemused sniff, “That strike was filled with no small amount of malicious intent.”

Retorting, you answer in a cold voice, “If she wanted to kill me, then I’d be dead. So for whatever reason, she wants me alive. And that’s extremely fucking worrying.”

“How do you know that you’re still alive? For all you know, you might be similar to us, a disembodied spirit trapped in a limbo between the realm of the living and the cold oblivion of inexistence?”

That thought does stop you cold in your tracks. Doubt begins to set in. Perhaps she’s right. You’re dead and your actions are a futility. But then…

“Nah…” you smirk in spite of yourself. “There’s already somebody with a claim on my soul. And last time I checked, this doesn’t look like the pearly gates.”

(cont.)

>>2846187
A trace of what seems like amusement seems to enter her voice. “You presume much to think that you’d be granted a place in the realm of the White God.”

“True, but Saint Peter’s gonna have to at least hear my case before he sends my ass to perdition for God knows how many sins I’ve committed. And last time I checked, you don’t nearly have the beard or the key to be him.”

The Crone’s laughter is mirthless, a sardonic sort of amusement. “But you truly think that your soul belongs to the White God? Then you are a bigger fool. Your body has already been marked by that whore queen of the fairies. Titania is little better than that harlot Medb when it comes to dispensing favors to her favorite toys.

“But…” You resist every urge in your body to swat her away when she comes too close for comfort. “I cannot detect any other scent beyond the fetid stench of my contemporaries. It seems that you are virginal to carnal relations with demons still.”

“…is that disapproval I hear?”

A dismissive wave of her hand. “Completely irrelevant. That harlot of a Mother might take offense to being the second, third, fourth demon to have its way with you, but I care not for the more base urges of humans and demons alike. We have things to discuss, namely that of how you will return me to the waking world-”

“And I don’t particularly care about this line of discussion either,” you answer, “Because as much as I don’t love talking to you of all goddesses, I’ve got bigger fish to fry.”

“Says the fish inside of the frying pan.”

Shaking your head in wary disgust, you collapse onto the dirt, ass first into the wet and welcoming soil. “…they said that they each have a case to plead. For a desperate goddess, you don’t seem to be particularly concerned about your only way out of this place being in danger.”

She offers no answer.

Pressing on, you continue, “…if I were in your position,” you slyly add, “…then I’d be doing my best to help my lifeline stay alive…instead of antagonizing him with trivial banter…perhaps it might make him see me in a better light after filling his mouth with the taste of rot and shit...”

Still no answer, and the silence between you only grows more profound. But you can swear that you can hear her teeth grinding.

>Make an argument for her to help you in the waking world.
>See if a more amicable goddess will come to your aid.
>Custom option.

>>2846254
>I'm not really in the market for help, so you even just letting me go sooner would be appreciated.

>>2846254
>Make an argument for her to help you in the waking world.
"Does the idea of helping me out really irritate you that much? If we are going to be seeing each other more and more often we should at least try not to be at each other's throats every time we meet."


>It seems that you are virginal to carnal relations with demons still.
Lucifer hides his/her scent well I see. :^)

>>2846254
>Make an argument for her to help you in the waking world.

>>2846254
>Make an argument for her to help you in the waking world.
Supporting this anon's initial line of argument >>2846273

>>2846254
>>Make an argument for her to help you in the waking world.

>>2846254
>>Make an argument for her to help you in the waking world.

>>2846262
>>2846273
>>2846284
>>2846293
>>2846336
>>2846693
“Look, I’m gonna be as blunt as I possibly can be, alright?” The Crone makes no other indication of having heard you, but you keep on going without any sign of stopping. “Does the idea of helping me out really irritate you that much? Just to…lower yourself off of that pedestal and give a lending hand now and again? Because if we’re going to be seeing each other more often, we should at least try not to be at each other’s throats every time we meet.

“There’s a saying among humans…” You pause to take a breath. “That if you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours. Because right now, we’re not getting anywhere. You have no desire to talk about an exchange, but you’re not exactly letting me wake up. So unless you start talking or just let me go outright, none of us are gonna be getting what we want.”

A fistful of soil runs through your fingers, falling back into the ground as you let it slide through and down your digits. “…you aren’t
exactly helping yourself, you know? The Maiden is unfailingly polite, and at least the Mother seemed to learn from trying to kill me the last time we met. You, on the other hand? You haven’t changed a bit. So you better not get too upset that I’m gonna be friendlier to the two of them over you-”

“…what do you want.”

It does not come as a question. It is a statement, made through clenched teeth. You blink, surprised at the reply. It’s almost too quiet for you to hear, nearly lost in the dull roar of the nothingness of your surroundings. “Say that again?”

The Crone makes a disgusted noise before drawing to her full height. “So be it, then! If I am to curry favor, I must dole out aid to the mortals!”

“…but you’re a goddess…shouldn’t that come natural to you?”

Where the deity’s mouth might be, you can imagine a sinister smile, a display of an arsenal of teeth. “Some revere and adore their gods…others fear them and placate them…ours is a prideful existence, Son of Man. We all cannot be granting favors here and there like those…lesser spirits and demons.

“But it is as you say. Your life is in danger. And I would be a fool to not take advantage of this opportunity. You wish for my help? So be it! Even as a forgotten goddess, you will have the privilege of receiving a boon.”

The Crone extends a talon, grasping your shoulder with an iron grip. You wince as her nails dig into your flesh, not nearly hard enough to cause bleeding, but painful enough nonetheless.

“Let this tip the scales in my favor, Son of Man,” her voice whispers in your head, coiling through your mind like a treacherous snake, “Would that little chit and bitch do the same for you?”

(cont.)

>>2846765
You offer no answer to that question, and the Crone cackles at your lack of an answer.

“Take my power! Forgotten I may be, but these domains are still mine to command. Do not get too comfortable with them, for this is only temporary. Choose wisely, mortal…for this Mother of Spiders will not be an easy foe…”

>The Crone is a goddess of many realms of power.
>Through this temporary link, you will receive a unique ability.

>>Choose two domains from which you wish to channel power from.
>Divine. Gain knowledge of the Crone’s most powerful spell, Megidolaon.
>Life. Gain knowledge of Healing spells, up to Salvation and Samarecarm.
>Rot. Gain knowledge of Darkness spells, up to Mamudoon and Dark Grudge.
>Water. Gain knowledge of Ice spells, up to Mabufudyne and Ice Age.

>>2846792
>Divine. Gain knowledge of the Crone’s most powerful spell, Megidolaon.
>Life. Gain knowledge of Healing spells, up to Salvation and Samarecarm.

>>2846254
>Life. Gain knowledge of Healing spells, up to Salvation and Samarecarm.

This is a MUST

>Water. Gain knowledge of Ice spells, up to Mabufudyne and Ice Age.

She's weak to ice.

>>2846800
>She's weak to ice.
Do we know that? Almighty seems like the safer bet.

>>2846800
Do we know what grabbed us? Cause if not, Megidolaon is good to take.

>>2846799
Supporting this - Life for support utility, and Divine for reliable offense against whatever it is we're facing

>>2846792
>>Divine
>>Life

>>2846792
>Life
>Water
Ice age is a great move, and dem megido spells are a tad slow for mowing down waves.

>>2846792
>>Life. Gain knowledge of Healing spells, up to Salvation and Samarecarm.
>>Water. Gain knowledge of Ice spells, up to Mabufudyne and Ice Age.

>>2846841
>and dem megido spells are a tad slow for mowing down waves.
What? Have you not used Megido- spells against hordes? What do you mean by slow?

>>2846849
there's been a dramatic charging whenever we've seen megido spells in this quest. Whether from Titania or High Pixie, it's got a long enough charge time to warrant covering for the person charging.

>>2846792
In pure combat mechanic terms are Megido spells things that need multiple 'turns' to cast?

>>2846888
Nope. Reason Titania took so long was that she spend a "round" charging up the spell with Mind Charge.

>>2846877
We should be good then on the speed department.

>>2846890
What about earlier in this mission, where we provided covering fire for High Pixie?

>>2846892
Flavor text for dramatic effect/Ogre having a faster initiative.

File: 250px-EggSac_Spider.png (51 KB, 250x193)

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>>2846799
>>2846800
>>2846828
>>2846836
>>2846841
>>2846845
>Divine.
>Life.

The first thing you are aware of is the sensation of sharp pain in your legs. As far as you can see, in spite of the rope that binds you against table, those limbs are still attached, albeit horiffially mangled. A tender mercy. You’ve not fallen into shock.
Whatever attacked you saw fit to pry your helmet off, and attempted to do the same with the rest of the DEMONICA. It succeeded to a certain extent, slicing through the armor plating and fibrous material as far down as your waist. But in spite of the relative warmth of the Domain, the skin that makes contact with the flesh-like table raises gooseflesh and sweat in equal measure…or is it an altar?

As you strain against your bonds, you take quick stock of the room. It is a large space, easily the size of a small auditorium. And even with your limited range of vision, you can see that you are in the center of the cavern, atop a dais. Beyond your prone self and the altar, however, what look like man-sized pods are scattered across the area. They lull about on the floor, hang from the walls and ceiling from what looks like webbing and adhesives alike. Some show signs of a forced exit, others remain inert and whole, perilously too close to your prone and helpless position.

...it seems that the Demon is a fan of Ridey Scott. This does not comfort you in the slightest.

“The thing about pain, Devil Summoner,” says a sudden voice, “Is that it hurts.”

High above the cavern, a colossal web hangs in a macabre delight. What appears to be gossamer silk the size of steel cables intertwines almost lovingly with the tendrils of the Domain, creating something of a twisted and eldritch beauty. It must be incredibly strong to bear the load of its sole occupant, a formless shadow just out of vision beyond your limited sight.

All that you can see is a pair of red eyes, crimson orbs that dance from one dark end of the web to another in an almost hypnotic sway. “It does not even matter what kind of pain one suffers,” the voice continues, a feminine contralto in a somber and almost mournful tone, “Whether it is the physical pain of one’s legs being mangled…or the emotional pain of a child losing their parent. Both cut very deep, one even deeper than another.”

…she’s giving a monologue. Of course she is.

The web suddenly quivers, striking a discordant note with every step its occupant takes. Then, a little noise, almost a tiny hiss before a gossamer cable descends from the darkness. And with it, comes the Mother of Spiders.

(cont.)

File: Arachne.jpg (109 KB, 550x722)

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>>2846894
The mass of shadows seems to writhe, contorting in on itself with alarming ferocity. But by the time it strays within your vision, what was once a collection the size of an eighteen-wheeler has become no larger than that of a human being.

The toga is a dead giveaway. But for all intents and purposes, Arcahne appears to be no different than a woman just barely over the cusp from youth to maturity. The fabric of her clothes whisper with every motion, murmur in the way only the finest silk can make as she slowly descends with the leading thread.

But what truly separates her from a normal human woman is her eyes. They are orbs of pure crimson, devoid of any visible iris or pupil. And just from the way she moves, almost too stiff and abrupt, as if she is unused to her own body.

“Are you in pain, then?” she softly whispers, tracing a delicate nail along your arm. “You must be. But I wonder which one hurts more…your legs…or the absence of your friends.” You offer no answer, and the sigh she exhales is almost human-like in its mannerisms. “…you men are all the same, hiding your pain behind stern, unfeeling exteriors…”

…you need to heal your legs. With the power of the Crone coursing through your veins, that shouldn’t be a problem. However, Arachne might notice you casting magic. But if you manage keep her monologing…

…hopefully your talent with the fairer sex extends to demon ones as well.

>“It’s an honor to meet a Greek legend.” [Amicable]
>“You’re gonna regret breaking my legs.” [Confront]
>"What exactly do you plan on doing with me?" [Neutral]
>Custom option.

>>2846904
>"Might I inquire as to why a Greek Legend decided to expand her territory here?" [Polite]

>>2846904
>"Might I inquire as to why a Greek Legend decided to expand her territory here?" [Polite]

>>2846904
>>“You’re gonna regret breaking my legs.” [Confront]

>>2846904
>>“You’re gonna regret breaking my legs.” [Confront]

>>2846904
>"Might I inquire as to why a Greek Legend decided to expand her territory here?" [Polite]

>>2846909
>>2846910
>>2846911
>>2846921
>>2846925
>>2846940
“…might I inquire as to why a Greek legend decided to expand her territory here?”

Arachne pauses, regarding you with a curious expression. “…you aren’t screaming? Are you not in a state of suffering?”

You shrug as best you can, offering a friendly smile through the sharp pain in your legs. “I suppose I am.” No thanks to you, you hairy bitch. “…but screaming, moaning and complaining about it isn’t going to get me anywhere.”

The line of her mouth curves just a little too far beyond what would be considered a normal smile. “Now you’re a very odd human. The men I’ve had strapped to the stone tend to scream, cry and soil themselves. It seems that you are cut from a finer cloth than the rest of the mundane mortals, Devil Summoner…but you seem to have me at a disadvantage.”

A disadvantage? With both of your legs broken, arms restrained and your armor completely sundered? The spider goddess has a funny notion of what constitutes an advantage.

“As you seem to have guessed, I am Arachne…of Greek legend,” she says with a rancor that sets your hair on edge, “Mother of Spiders and mistress of this Domain…but I have little idea as to who you are supposed to be…”

“Adrian Brown,” you offer. “I’d say that it’s nice to meet you, but…” Her eyes follow the gestures you make with your hands and the pathetic wiggle of your broken legs. “…well, that’d be kind of a lie.”

“A pleasure.” Ignoring that last bit, she continues to observe you with a worrying intensity. “Were we in Lydia, I might offer you bread and water. Alas, the only food I have here is fit only for the consumption of demonkind.”

“Nah, don’t worry about that. I ate before coming here. But I’d think that…this whole setup doesn’t exactly go along with the whole ‘hospitable Greek’ archetype. The hell is it...I got an ‘A’ in AP English, I should frickin’ know this…”

The smile on her face grows impossibly wider as she traces along your pectoral, driving her nail through the fabric of the undershirt to touch the skin of your chest. “Xenía. That is the ancient word. You have the body of a warrior, but the mind of a scholar. What a rare and remarkable human…

“Ah, but I see that I’ve strayed so far away from the question you asked. Very well. You are deserving of that much.” Withdrawing her hand, Arachne looks at you with an unreadable expression. Her eyes alone cannot give you any details, but from body language and facial gestures alone, it seems that you’ve at least piqued her interest.

Good news: she’s not going to kill you immediately.

Bad news: she’s interested in you.

At what cost have you purchased this extension of your life?

(cont.)

>>2846963
>Good news: she’s not going to kill you immediately.
>Bad news: she’s interested in you.
>At what cost have you purchased this extension of your life?

I swear to YHVH if we win this with Marin Karin...

>>2846967
I want to nuke her. It's not often you get to flex with Megidolaon

>>2846963
“The answer in its most honest state is that I must have power…” She says, reclining against the stone of the altar almost like a cat. She raises her hand, regarding it with a curious expression as she flexes and rotates the limb. “…it is what all demons crave. The power to carve their own destiny independent of the rule of Law and the established order of the world. Power to also forge protect my dreams from the Chaos that would seek to tear it down.”

There’s something about the way she said those words that makes the hairs on your neck stand on end. She speaks not of some established rule set in stone, paper or data, or of the mundane pandemonium of day-to-day living…but of something that cuts deep within the very essence of your being.

Law and Chaos.

But beyond pondering those terms, you quickly seize the moment to heal your legs. While Arachne is distracted, you stretch your hand as far as it can go towards the uppermost part of your thigh…

And the sensation of magic nearly overwhelms you when you call it forward. It passes through you, like a mighty river coursing through a solitary stone in its path. It is a feeling of power, a rush of energy that fills your body with a euphoric, throbbing energy. You’ve never taken recreational drugs in your life, but if this is anything close to the high that you’ve seen people get…

…you’re not about to start sticking yourself with needles, but you can see why some might be inclined to do so.

Ever so slowly, the magic takes hold, so not as to alert the pondering Arachne. You can feel every single shard of bone in your leg, every single fragment coming back together into its proper alignment. It’s all you can do to stop from screaming as your flesh contorts and writhes to restore your legs to their pristine and whole form.

“…even if it means killing innocent civilians?” you say through gritted teeth. “And forcing your way into the world of humans? Conflict between you and Devil Summoners was inevitable with what you did.”

She mistakes the forced tone in your voice for anger, but she does not otherwise turn around to face you. The tone in her voice almost seems…melancholic.

“…but you seem to have forgotten, Adrian…” she sighs, “…that I was not always the Mother of Spiders. I was once human as well, no different from you and the rest of your friends…don’t worry,” she adds, as if she could sense the sudden tension in your body. “They’re still alive. Merely lost and wandering in the Domain, searching for you. It is admirable, really. I do not offer any jest…

“But…to go back to my reason for expanding my territory?” You can almost hear the smirk in her voice. “I require an army. Disenfranchised demons…rogue devil summoners and magicians of the modern era…even my own children, even though they are of not my brood. They all serve willingly for the cause that I offer.”

(cont.)

>>2843377
Brady is a pussy

>>2846979
“And what cause is that exactly?” You ask, terse.

“Revenge,” she answers, flexing her hand into a tight, white-knuckled fist. “Justice for a crime done two millennia ago.

“Simply put, Adrian…” She finally turns around, but her eyes do not go towards your legs. They instead meet yours with an inhuman intensity. “I wish to lay siege to Mount Olympus and rip the tawny wings from the goddess that wronged me. And I care not for what comes after so long as I have my vengeance.”

…lay siege to Mount Olympus? THE Mount Olympus? The thought would have had you laughing were it not for the look on her face. She wishes to take an army to the home of the Greek gods? Mighty Zeus and his javelins of thunder, Hephaestus and his forge of wonders, Ares and his warmongering talents, Athena-

The blood in your veins suddenly runs cold.

She laughs at horror that dawns on your face. “I can see that you’ve realized the object of my vengeance…and if you are as well read as I believe you to be…then you know how far I will go. I will have power, Adrian. And if it requires ten, one hundred, a thousand of my former kin for me to reach the zenith of my divinity, then it is a price I am more than willing to pay.”

>“But you were once like us…you’d be no better than them!”
>“I’ve heard enough.” [Megidolaon to the FACE]
>“YOU were the one who offended the gods!”
>Custom option.

>>2846984
>“I’ve heard enough.” [Megidolaon to the FACE]
"And you're about to find out how far I'll go to protect my kin."

If we can summon demons get High Pixie and Pyro Jack out.

>>2846984
>“I’ve heard enough.” [Megidolaon to the FACE]
Yeah fuck this cunt.

>>2846984
There wasn't a better way to recruit than to stir enough shit in the human world that we sent an army to stop you? If this is the best you can do you will never reach Olympus

>>2846984
>>“I’ve heard enough.” [Megidolaon to the FACE]

>>2846984
I’d say try to keep her talking, but Blast Her seems unanimous

>>2846984
>>“But you were once like us…you’d be no better than them!”

>>2846984
>"What happens after?"

>>2846984
>But you were once like us... how would that make you any better than them?

She's crazy, but chatting her up is definitely worth it, stalling for our teammates if nothing else.

I wanna try and recruit her desu

>>2847092
>demonicapixie
>titania
>arachne
>angel evolved into more powerful but still unusually feminine forms, culminating in fem!Metatron

Adrian's endgame demon harem stronk

>>2847092
Man recruiting her would be dope

I'm all for trying

>>2846984
>“But you were once like us…you’d be no better than them!”
>They’re the literal poster children for dickass Gods. You have a very understandable hatred of them, but lashing out at others to get your revenge, is much like Athena lashing out at you because of what others said.

>>2847092
>>2847116
>>2847145
1. You can't recruit and use something higher level. You'd just throw her into the auction at best.

2. The best way for our squad to find us would be to make noise via Megido. Stalling for a couple minutes for an extra conversation or two won't somehow teleport our squad to us unless they were right next to the door to begin with.

3. She seems pretty set in her path and I doubt 'You'll be as bad as them!' will deter her after she just said she'd stop at nothing.

>>2847245
1 I forgot we were playing with video game rules
2 would it be so bad to put her in the auction? It's still extra power for our side

And yes, "you're just like them" is probably the dumbest fucking thing to say to a several thousand year old greek monster.

>>2847280
>2 would it be so bad to put her in the auction? It's still extra power for our side

Sure, if I thought we could reliably get her in our COMP I would be for it.

But this is a Greek monster nursing a two millennia old grudge that's already assembled an army and is gaining power. Why would she drop all that to join us? Her interest in Adrian only extends so far and even then we'd have to throw her into auction which would probably piss her off royally.

Also I forgot one more point.

>>2847245
4. Speed is still key. The longer we take here stalling (for no real reason) the longer Squad Bootes is out there fighting without communication.

>>2847245
1) We can recruit her just fine, we just wouldn't be able to use her

2) Starting a death battle with a quasi-goddess while our squad is who knows how many levels away and we're unarmed and bound to a table is a terrible idea

3) The point isn't to make a point that'll make her do a 180, her millenial thirst for revenge probably won't let her anyway, the point is to /keep her talking/.

>>2847291

Forgot
>can't use her YET.

we can still negotiate after our squad arrives and we've kicked her ass from here to the Demonweb Pits. Promise to help her get her revenge if she helps us fight. As long as none of our superiors are using Greek Gods to fight, it'll be win/win.

>>2847291
>>2847300
Megiolaon is the best of the best. Samarecarm and Salvation can heal any casualties, Pyro Jack can burn webbing.

We have more than enough power to take down a greek monster.

I think your /keep her talking/ is a waste of time and won't last as long as you think it will.

> Promise to help her get her revenge if she helps us fight.
You're playing a dangerous game making promises you can't keep. What are you going to start shit with the Greek Pantheon on her behalf? Or are you telling her what she wants to hear only to do jack shit and have her betray us later. Loyalty is a stat remember.

>>2847303
fire doesn't actually burn web. It only sets fire to the dust that collects on it. The main thing it does is cause the web to slacken from temperature, overstretching it and making it easier to tear.

>>2847305
Huh. The more you know.

>>2847291
If your main goal is to get teammates here using Megidolaon repeatedly is like sending out a signal flare. We can win an attrition fight with our healing skills long enough for the squad to arrive if not just outright win.

If your main goal is spider pussy I can't help you there

>>2847308

>Using Megidolaon repeatedly is like sending a signal flare

We're in an enclosed space, they aren't going to see it and we have no way of knowing if their DEMONICA suits can detect it through however many layers there are between here and there. Even if they could pinpoint our location using it, there's no way they would reach us in time unless they were already on top of us.
Moreover, Crone was very clear that those powers are *temporary*. I.E. We don't know how many shots we get. And without backup or a weapon, we aren't doing shit to Arachne on our own. She's not trying to rip us apart just this second, why are you in such a hurry to initiate hostilities when time is on our side?

I'm going to ignore allegations as to carnal relations with demons. Pixie best girl anyway..

>>2847303
Who says we can't keep it? If the Greek gods exist, they're demons. If they're demons, we're bound to run against them sooner or later. Arachne waited three thousand years already, she can wait however long it takes, especially if her other option is annihilation.

>>2847313
Time isn't on our side. Bootes is out there is in a potentially shit situation.

I guess this coming down to assumptions.

I assume we can take her, that our powers being temporary means a length of time instead of expenditure cause I think the Crone would have alluded to that, that Megidolaon will bring our friends here faster than talking.

You assume that poking at the motivations and methods of a spider goddess with a big chip on her shoulder will last long enough for the squad to get here as they wander a labyrinth before she decides to kill us, that our powers have only a few shots, that we are alone (we aren't we have our demons), that we can't take her with our new powers or at least hold her off until help arrives.

>>2847314
You really want to start a war with the Greek Pantheon over some demon? What if the Task Force has cordial relations with the Pantheon. What if we need Athena's help somewhere down the line? This spider bitch isn't worth it.

>>2847313
>there's no way they would reach us in time unless they were already on top of us.

Same and even more so with your talk-no-jutsu

>>2846984
>>“I’ve heard enough.” [Megidolaon to the FACE]
I'm probably too late, dunno if the vote was called yet.

>>2847336
Every second we spend talking is a second we're not engaged in mortal combat under far less than ideal conditions. I don't know why this is so difficult to grasp.

Or rather I do. Geez guys, I know the new Megidolaon button is big and shiny but that doesn't mean you have to push it at the first opportunity, especially when we don't even know if we get a second shot.

>>2847374
You erroring on the side of caution this hard is going make this shit situation even worse. We'll lose the element of surprise, our teammates will still have no idea where we are, and Bootes will have to last longer under assault.

I know the getting a new demon button is big and shiny but that doesn't mean you should always push it every single time, specially when it's not likely to work and comes with some shit baggage.

Why do you think a cast of megidoloan will let us win? She is absurdly high level, we are alone and in her domain. Even if it harms her greatly she can spawn or summon probably hundreds of demons to fuck us up. She's an ambush predator, there is no way she doesn't have other demons in position to ambush us. She's thousands of years old this can't be the first time she's caught a man a not the first time she gets someone feisty enough to fight back. She's surely had more than one romp with a hero

>>2846998
>>2847017
>>2847067
>>2847077
>>2847092
>>2847145
“‘Thousands of your former kin’, huh?” She seems surprised as you shake your head in undisguised loathing. “Guess you really aren’t human anymore. Because what you’re doing is no more different or better than what they would do.”

What child hasn’t heard of Greek mythology? Even before Rick Riordan, you indulged in the legends of those great and mighty heroes, and the gods that supported their endeavors. Brave Perseus, slayer of the Gorgon Medusa, mighty Heracles and his Twelve Labors, the tragedies of Achilles and Hector…all but a handful of the legends and tales you were weaned upon.
But with age comes the removal of rose-tinted lenses, and with it, the ugly reality of the world beyond childhood innocence.

The gods and heroes of Greek mythology are not the nicest of individuals, and they place a close second when it comes to screwing over mortals, losing only to the Aztec gods of infamous blood sacrifice. Hera is a spiteful bitch who could only punish her husband’s infidelity by going after his mortal lovers. In spite of her wish to remain a virgin, Polyphonte was cursed by Aphrodite to copulate with a bear, and Artemis abandoned her in disgust. Odysseys paid for his return to Ithaca with the lives of his crew with his reckless decisions. Jason and Theseus abandoned Medea and Ariadne when both had outlived their usefulness.

And who could forget about poor, poor, Medusa? Her sole crime was to be born “a ravishingly beautiful maiden”, and for that, Poseidon raped her in the temple of Athena. And after the deed was done, the goddess of wisdom cursed her hair to turn into snakes, and for her visage to turn her into stone.

...come to think of it, Poseidon might have been a serial rapist. At least Zeus had the common courtesy to seduce his marks or disguise himself. But with the god of the sea…wherever he goes, he must rape. Guess that didn’t make the final draft of The Lightning Thief.

Arachne’s eyes narrow at the accusation you throw at her, and her mouth twitches as an angry hiss leaks from her teeth. “I am no different from them? Perhaps that pain addling and dulling your senses, Adrian. Justice is on my side.”

You know that tone. That’s the voice of the self-righteous, those who are so caught up in their own cause that they can’t be wrong. You’ve heard it from just everybody in your life: shitty TAs, aggrandizing parishioners, arrogant residence doctors…

“Then tell that to the people you’ve sacrificed so far…and however many thousands of nameless, faceless humans you intend to harvest before you even reach the power of a true goddess…”

She cocks her head, almost taking her neck beyond human limits with how far she tilts. Then, that all-too-wide smile returns to her lips.

(cont.)

>>2847451
So your plan is to do absolutely nothing and pray you pass a very high social roll/hope the squad is literally around the corner so these five minutes you buy are worthwhile?

You guys are geniuses. You better hope Kaz pulls some dues ex machina and teleports the squad next to us.

>>2847453
“…Laura Foster…Dawson Rush…Rowan Whifield…Steven Ortiz…Jamie Brooks…Melissa Fox…” Some of the names she recites are mangled, as if she stumbles over the more complicated ones. “You could not be further away from the truth. I remember every single face, every single name of all the humans that have helped me come this far.

“You would be surprised by how many willingly offered themselves up to me…lost and lone…without purpose in their lives…I offered them a chance to become part of something greater, a blade of justice that strikes at the heart of evil. And there were many who took it.”

Pushing off from the altar, she makes a grand gesture to the cavern at large. “Some chose to wield grimoires and crude magics of binding demons to their service…the more destitute chose to offer themselves as a harvest so that I might partake of their energies.”

So that’s her rationale. “A choice, huh? You’re better than the gods because you’re giving them a choice? What about the others who refused…and the unwilling you’ve had to have killed. Don’t tell me you haven’t abstained from that.”

She offers a shrug, a surprisingly human expression. “I won’t deny that I’ve had to forcibly take my fill when absolutely necessary. I only regret a handful of things, but take comfort in my reluctance to prey upon human flesh save for the direst of circumstances.”

“Yeah, big comfort for me. Not much for the dead you’ve consumed who probably weren’t interested for your little cursade.” The urge to spit is almost overwhelming. “Face it, Arachne. You keep this up, and even if you do manage to clock Athena-”

“DO NOT say her name,” she suddenly hisses, her features rippling in a violent contortion of unadulterated rage. “Do not speak her name in my presence…else I might lose my temper…”

“…the goddess of wisdom, then. You hear yourself talking? You said yourself that you don’t give a damn for what happens after. You do what you want without care for the mortals that it’s going to affect. So as far as I’m concerned, you’re acting just like they would.”

There is a tense moment of silence as she simply stares at you with an unreadable expression. And even as you offer a defiant glare, you can’t help but wonder if you overstepped.

“…I’ve gone too far to turn back.” Arachne’s face sets once more into a serenely inhuman calm. “I would be betraying everything and everybody that gave themselves up if I stopped now. If not for my sake, then theirs for why I must continue…

“But I can’t help but wonder…” In a surprising feat of dexterity, she vaults onto the altar, draping herself languidly across your body. You immediately seize, stiffening at the cold sensation of her flesh pressing against your own. The bones in your legs haven’t finished healing yet, so you don’t need to fake the pain in your voice as she straddles your waist.

(cont.)

File: Whisper.gif (524 KB, 500x278)

524 KB GIF

She offers a tittering laugh, almost the sound of clattering mandibles, as she traces a finger along the contour of your jawline, raising a path of gooseflesh as she travels down your neck, pectorals, abdominals...

Exhaling in a breathy voice, she leans into your ear, whispering, “You are well versed with our mythology, Adrian…what do you think, then? Who was in the wrong that day, when that sow disturbed my daily life with her challenge to weave? What do the scholars of this age say, the Ovids and Pliny’s of your time? The bitch goddess who could not abide such an affront against her pride…or the Lydian weaver who surpassed her work and wove a truth she could not handle?”

>“Obviously, the ‘bitch goddess’ was the wrongful transgressor.”
>“They say it was your pride that brought her to your doorstep.”
>Custom option.

>>2847483
I will concede that I didn't know our legs were still healing and that is a good reason to stall for time.

The only good one so far.

>>2847497
>>Custom option.
>[Megidolaon to the FACE]

>>2847497
>Assuming the tales are accurate and did not add or omit anything, both of you. You for declaring you were better than her, and her for over reacting and doing what she did when she beat you cleanly.

"y de fug my pp so hard"

>>2847474

THE PLAN is to avoid fighting the quasi-divine demon with our borrowed power for as long as possible. We aren't losing the element of surprise anymore than we would at any other time, Bootes is more likely than not already done with their assignment, and our squad is getting closer with every minute. In short, *genius*, TIME IS ON OUR SIDE.

>>2847497

>obviously, the 'bitch goddess' was the wrongful transgressor

>>2847547

Actually, half the legends say Arachne won but got turned into a spider anyway.
Either way don't aggravate the crazy spider lady.
Don't stick your dick into crazy neither, mind you.

>>2847497
>Couple of details I need to confirm. WHY did you challenge her? The 'bitch goddess' was definitely in the wrong, but picking a fight with her....what were you hoping gain?

fuckit, let's see if we can talkfu so hard we don't need to explain to Command how that megidolaon got there.

>>2847497
>Couple of details I need to confirm. WHY did you challenge her? The 'bitch goddess' was definitely in the wrong, but picking a fight with her....what were you hoping gain?

>>2847577
>We aren't losing the element of surprise anymore than we would at any other time,

Well to be fair the moment she decides to kill us if you fail the social roll is the moment her guard will be up more and we'll have less of clear shot as opposed to right now where it would be most effective so he is kind of right about that.

>Squad is getting closer every second
Don't really know that. They could be going in circles. That assumption is the core part of this plan so it's a little flimsy.

But whatever, Adrian will roll a 90+ on the lady demon like he always does and invalidate these arguments.

>>2847593

Her guard is already up, as evidenced by the fact that we're still tied to the table. Maybe we have a slightly better shot now than we will if she decides she doesn't need us anymore, but the entire reason we're not dead yet is that she wants something from us. We'll have a much better shot later if she actually thinks we're willing to play ball.

>squad could be going in circles
That's true, but even so they have a mapping utility. Every wrong path they take is still a path mapped and avoided. They'll get to us given time.

>>2847603
>The minimap on your HUD is useless, A command to the VI in your helmet dispels it, replacing it with the icon of a dancing creature.

Sorry man, doesn't work here. You know what would work? Your favorite M word.

>>2847547
>>2847579
>>2847583
>>2847584
Ovid says that Arachne was the culprit, and that her story is a tale of warning mankind to not transgress against the gods. But you’re not nearly that idiotic to answer with that.

You try to keep an even voice, even as she runs her fingers along your waist and prods curious touches at the DEMONICA suit. “Never really sat down to think about it…or write an essay on the topic…but…you want my honest opinion?”

At her lilting nod, and the half-lidded eyes that invite you speak, you swallow, continuing, “…assuming that the tales are correct and didn’t add or omit anything…both of you were in the wrong. But WAIT just…” Wincing as she digs into a bit of flesh and squeezes just too tight, you grit your teeth and push through, saying, “…just hear me out first…”

She does not relinquish her hold, but the grip on your groin loosens to only a slight feeling of discomfort. “The ‘bitch goddess’ was definitely the wrong for being a sore loser and overreacting, but…picking a fight with her? That was your own entire fault. What in the hell were you even hoping to gain from that?”

Arachne blinks, and even behind those monochromatic eyes, you can see the cogs of her brain slowly turning behind another one of her enigmatic expressions. And all the while, she continues to play with both your body and the shredded remnants of the suit.

“…I suppose it was hubris...” she slowly intones, bringing herself up to her full height, “…a sort of pride that was so completely and utterly human of me in those peaceful, bygone days…”

“Pride,” you repeat. It isn’t a disappointment, but you can’t help but feel…underwhelmed that Ovid and Pliny were right. “You challenged the goddess because of your pride?”

Suddenly, she laughs. It is not the lilting, tittering laugh she had before, but a full-blown, all-out seizure of amusement. For a moment, the entire cavern shakes, and viscous fluids drip from the web above, splashing on the ground, the altar, even your own flesh as the mistress of the Domain is struck by uncontrollable laughter.

Suddenly, she stops, and her eyes go wide with a surprising intensity. Her gaze locks with yours, and she doubles over, crawling along your torso before coming inches away from your face. “But went deeper than that, Adrian…" she whispers, nearly spitting in your face with the vehemence of her words. "In my time, we did not romanticize the gods. We knew them for what they were, powerful beings with unrestrained power, capable of doing as they fit. Lording high above the mortals, accepting their sacrifices, sinking their ships or flooding their lands if they even got up on the wrong side of the bed or were wronged by their fellow deities...

(cont.)

“I think that I want to prove…” she says, gently caressing the gossamer thread that hangs from the ceiling, “That humanity could achieve great wonders without the aid of the gods. What did I owe that bitch, who had the temerity that I should offer sacrifice to her for my talent? I was a talented weaver and a prodigy to be sure, but only after years upon honing my trade and craft. What does she know of bloody fingers, split nails, and the pain of spending over ten thousand hours, hunched over a loom, struggling to provide for a singular parent?”

Her voice has reached a fever pitch, and her breath comes out in ragged gasps. But even as the disheveled nature of Arachne tantalizes your senses, teases your libido with every sigh that washes across your chest, you do not doubt for a second that she could kill you in a single moment.

“Ah…but father…” To your surprise, you can see moisture gathering in the corners of her eyes. She wipes away her tears with the back of her hand, before her features twist into a fierce and ugly visage. An in a voice dripping with hatred and venom, she intones, “They said that I was the one who hanged myself after she humiliated me and destroyed my work. That the bitch was the one who cursed me as ‘mercy’, so that I may weave forever as restitution…”

She pauses, brushing aside more tears before snarling, “They do not say what happened to Idmon of Colophon, or how he went mad with grief when he came home to find his house a ransacked mess, and his daughter nowhere to be found. But I was there, in a little corner of the room he built me, right by the sea so that I would have something beyond my loom to gaze upon…

“Yet I could not gain his attention. Dusk had fallen, and nothing I wove could get him to raise his head, to see the miserable, pathetic form his only child was reduced to. And in the end…he weaved something as well, just as I tried to spin a message in a web. Only instead of a textile…he wove a long rope and hung just as I did from atop the ceiling…except there was no coming back down…”

Your blood runs cold as the full extent of her story crashes down upon you. In that same situation, watching a parent commit suicide when you could have done something to prevent it…and to carry that grief and guilt for over two thousand years…

“I do not regret challenging Athena for my ideals of human independence,” she declares, and the vitriol in her voice is enough to make you recoil, “But do I regret my father’s fate…and I intend to pay her back for that a thousand fold…”

It takes a significant moment for Arachne to regain control of her breathing, to let the anger seep out of her body. Mercifully, your legs are almost finished, aching with the pain of a minor sprain as opposed to a crushed femur. And she still doesn’t seem to notice…

(cont.)

“So if not for my followers or my own vindication…then for my very human father…” she exhales, and the motion causes the generous swell of her chest to heave with exertion, “And all the other mortals that she has wronged both before and since my challenge. I will have my vengeance, Adrian…and you are going to help attain it…” Her words slowly die away, as she regards you in a new and disturbing consideration. “…but you would be wasted a food source or a mere footsoldier.”

Frowning, you reply with a forced laugh, “Much as feel sorry for you…and I really do mean it…it’s gonna be a cold day in hell before I’m betraying the Task Force for your cause.”

The smile on her face turns absolutely sultry, devoid of the lifting coyness and hesitation of her prior entrance. Now she appears to be truly the predator that she is, a Mother of Spiders, a demon way above your punching weight. And worst of all, you can’t tell if she’s more of a danger than Titania.

Cupping your face almost tenderly, she whispers, “…but you forget that I have no regrets in pressing humans during the most dire of circumstances…and if you are so insistent on resisting, than you may put up a struggle to ease your troubled mind. It doesn’t matter either way.”

...wasted as food…okay, that’s a relief. Common footsoldier? You’d think you’re better than a grunt given your command of Carina Squad and how well you impressed her. But beyond leading her “army” into battle…

“Quit beating around the bush and tell me what the hell you’re after,” you grunt. “What do you need me for?”

Her smile turns too wide once more. “Leaders…summoners to command my army of demons…they all must be human, for what better way to prove to those Olympians that in the end, the creations of a Titan, their sworn enemy, were better than them?

“But before all that…” The free hand that isn’t caressing, tracing over your body with a nail on the thin line between pain and pleasure, that hand goes to gently caress the front of her stomach. “Your companions and compatriots were too thorough in their battle against my children, a loss I can ill-afford now that I have revealed myself. I cannot lead this cause if I have nobody to leave, take revenge on that bitch if spiders do not devour her from the inside and out.

“So, what I require from you, Son of Man…Adrian Brown…” a little noise of amusement warbles in the back of her throat as she her hand descends, finally tracing lightly above the object of her desire. “To breed a new army to lay siege to Olympus…I will desire greatly of your seed.”

…

...for a moment, there is only a heavy and profoundly pregnant silence as you struggle to process the words she uttered. And your mind has a terrible time struggling to comprehend the sheer magnitude of what she wants from you.

(cont.)

I feel like this is becoming a theme in both quests.

>>2847691
>Adrian right now
>Alright which love god/dess cursed me and why?

>>2847697
Don't worry, it's just the set up for a dramatic rescue. You know like in those Bruce Willis-esque films where the bad guy has the female hogtied to a bed, and then the male hero busts in at the last second to save the day and her dignity? Kind of like that, only with the genders reversed.

Writing...

>>2847704
>Spoiler
PIXIE TO SAVE THE DAY!

>>2847704
Huh. I guess they really were right around the corner

>>2847691
…

…what is this, the second…third demon that’s tried to jump your bones?! First the Mother, disembodied fog goddess, then Titania, Queen of the Fairies…now Arachne, the first spider.

…

…you’re not quite sure what the expression on your face is. Too many emotions are coursing through your mind at breakneck speed for you to be definitely sure. Confusion, disgust, arousal, horror, panic…it must make quite the sight. And the laugh of the Mother of Spiders (and you are suddenly very uncomfortable referring to her that way) echoes throughout the chamber.

“It would be waste because you are easily the best human that I’ve come across in many, many years,” she muses, gently undoing the sash that holds her toga in place. Her eyes do not glitter as much as glisten with want and need. “A warrior with the mind of a scholar…they would definitely be a stock above the last generation I bred…”

“Huh!” You grunt, almost hysterically as you flex against your restraints as best you can. What limited motion you do have is cut all the more further by the grip on your crotch. “Just a quick question though…what happened to the last guy?”

“It’s uncouth to ask a woman about her prior lovers…but if you must know, the last one I invited into my web was merely a follower. Adequate of stock with no small amount of devotion to my cause.

She looks upon the egg sacs in the cavern with pity in her eyes. “But…as much as I loved them, the children were painfully average…little better than fodder. But I have little doubt that I will have that problem with you…and why would I bring harm to you? I plan to get as much value as I can from you while you’re in my care…”

Arachne pauses, regarding your struggles with a playful smirk. “Of course, I’m not entirely objecting for you to be a more…active participant in this exchange. Monster though I may be, and lack of experience in this…form, I am still beyond any sort of pleasure that mundane mortal can offer. And your restraints look so uncomfortable…”

The sash around her waist falls, carelessly floating down to the ground from the raised alter. And in a singular motion, she undoes the knots and cords holding her toga together, and these cascade off of her shoulders, sliding ever so slowly to reveal tantalizing, unmarred skin.

(cont.)

>>2847735
These, she kicks away, pulling her hands away from your body to tease and highlight her body. The swell of her breasts, generously ample for you to hold in your fists lift up and stare invitingly with every breath she takes. Immaculate, flawless legs that goes on forever, ending with the contour of her hips and a patch of dark curls between them.

And even with those inhuman eyes, those pits of complete and utter darkness...they are half-lidded, teasing, cajoling, begging for you to take her.

“I may not have much experience in this other form of mine,” she quietly whispers, “Walking among the world in the guise of my previous shape…perhaps you can show me how creature copulate with only two legs and not eight…it would be learning experience for the both of us, I'm sure...”

>“…yes.” [Wait for a moment to strike when her guard is down.]
>“Nope.” [Megidolaon at point-blank range.]
>Custom option.

>>2847737
>>Custom option.
"I'm going to need both hands to really teach you. These fingers can work wonders."

After getting let free hopefully

"Are you sure about this? I can be pretty rough. How about a safe word? Let's go with: Megidolaon

>>2847737
I'll second this >>2847753

>>2847737
Titania didn’t break my legs and I turned her down. Flattered but no. As a consolation have a megidolaon!

>>2847737
>>“Nope.” [Megidolaon at point-blank range.]

>>2847753
Lol

+1

>>2847737
Welp, sorry for your practice Kaz, but I'm not voting for a lemon with a random demoness at this stage.
>Custom option
>convince her to free you from your bonds, then sucker punch her

>>2847753
Supporting this. Are we going to need a social roll to convince Arachne to loosen our bonds Kaz?

Hey Kaz, Bladebound wen?

>>2848564
clearly Kaz was getting blueballed from Marcus not getting laid, and so tried to get his fix from Adrian. If we keep avoiding sex, logic dictates that we'll move onto the middle-aged sorceror in a dungeon.

>>2848564
At least a couple months.

>>2848564
Next week or so, IRL willing.

Writing...

>>2847753
>>2847758
>>2847778
>>2847874
>>2847934
>>2848028
>>2848036
“…I’m going to need both hands to really teach you…” you answer in as saucy a tone as you can muster. Hopefully whichever god landed you in this situation has a good sense of humor to at least let you dig yourself out of this hole. “These fingers of mine…well, they can work wonders. Human women really love that kind of…stimulation. If this gonna happen…I may as well get some enjoyment out of it, huh?”

The bones in your leg finish healing, and a cursory twitch reveals no residual pain. Beneath what you hope is the detached and flirtatious air of a playboy, you hope that both your relief and disgust aren’t showing on your face.

Gag me with a spade because I want to fucking die.

Maybe death would be preferable than being discovered by your friends in this…compromising position.

As she stretches towards your restraints, taking her time to let tips of plum-colored nipples graze the front of your chest. “And how do I know you’ll not try to attack or strike me?”

Think fast. “I’d be foolish to do so.” Not technically a lie. This whole plan of yours is a borderline cockamamie, flying on the seat of your pants. Hopefully, with no visible defenses on her body, and in a form not suited for combat, she’d at least have a negative reaction to the power slumbering within your body.

Her smile turns sultry. “And I think you’re not nearly stupid enough to try anything…”

With a flick of her wrist, the restraints on your wrist are sundered, clean and through. Rubbing the circulation back into them, you notice that your COMP is…well, it’s in one piece, but the damn thing is partially covered in some of the web. That’s…definitely gonna put a crimp in getting your demons out.

“Are you thinking about calling for your friends?” Arachne gently takes the front of your chin, turning your gaze from the COMP towards her own face. “I did not think you were one to enjoy being spied upon…”

You don’t dignify that with an answer. As you sit up, pantomiming the winces and pained expression of having broken legs, you grasp the woman…the demon by her hips and place her firmly upon your lap. She offers no resistance, daintily draping her arms around your shoulders, her legs across her waist. And for a perilous moment, the slow, burning friction as your groins come into contact nearly overwhelms your mind. Hers as well, judging from how violently she shivers in your embrace...

You don’t need to pretend to make your voice sound ragged, “The best position I can do with both legs of commission…but that’s not gonna stop me in the slightest…”

(cont.)

Rolled 21 (1d100)

>>2848850

Her eyes go wide with anticipation as you wiggle your fingers in front of your face. “Five digits on each hand…I think they’re better than just having eight limbs with single points…”

Arachne trembles as you bring the other hand, gingerly tracing a path down her arms, torso, hips, just stopping tantalizingly short of the burning heat between her legs. For a brief moment, the rough and hardened calluses glide just above that tangle of black hair…but you pull it back in an instant.

The growl in her throat is equal measures a whine of protest and a snarl of frustration. “…why did you stop?”

“Sorry…” you offer, gently patting her arm in a placating gesture. “I just almost forgot…are you familiar with safe words?” The look of confusion you receive is more than an adequate answer. “Right. Well, humans can get a little…rough with each other. So to keep from hurting the other, we have the safe word. If you feel any distress or discomfort…then you say the word and I’ll stop what I’m doing…”

“…I see-” But before she can finish her affirmation, you resume the gentle ministrations of your hands. One gliding across the swell and curve of her breasts ,the other tracing patterns along her upper thigh. The words die in their mouth, cut short in a low and throaty purr.

You lean forward, whispering in her ear, “…but the safe word can’t be something that we might say in the throes of passion…sometimes we don’t respond well to ‘stop’, or ‘no more’…those might have the opposite effect, and might goad us on to do more. The word must be something beyond the ordinary…something…you wouldn’t be saying in an everyday expression…”

The Mother of Spiders shudders, heaving as you place a hand underneath a generous breast, and your other just in front of her hot core. “…and…what word…do you…”

Here we go. you think to yourself as you take her breast in a firm grip, and cup the entrance to her moistening entrance. She seizes, nearly stiffening at the contact as your fingers brush across a plump nipple, the run along the glistening folds of her sex. And again, were it not for the monochrome midnight eyes, the jerkiness and stiffness of her earlier movements...

...and the petty anger of a vindictive and haughty goddess...

...she might not be any different from Alyssa, or any other handful of girls you've had in your arms.

In this moment of distraction, with her mind clouded in pleasure, you whisper the word with an almost apologetic tone.

“Megidolaon.”

Forgive me.

…and the world vanishes in a searing void of pain and white.

>Roll 1d100+30
>Best out of three.

>>2848853
Sorry about that. Minor formatting error and some stuff that didn't copy/paste from my word processor.

Rolled 48 + 30 (1d100 + 30)

>>2848859
Fuck, this is what I get for mobile posting. Don't worry about it, Kaz.

Rolled 21 + 30 (1d100 + 30)

>>2848859

Rolled 97 + 30 (1d100 + 30)

>>2848859

>>2848870
Kaboom

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>>2848870
Well okay then

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>>2848870
Well, that was one explosive orgasm we gave her.

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>>2848866
>>2848868
>>2848870
The world as you know it becomes one of violent motion. The sheer force of the blast knocks you off the dais, sending you flying for a good, long moment before a sudden and abrupt wall arrests your motion. Gravity shortly takes hold soon after. You’ve barely any time to wheeze at the breath being driven out of your lungs before you slide down the wall, crashing into a pile of empty spider eggs.

You do not fall unconscious. The pain is too much for you to even find respite in that distant realm of bickering goddesses and dreamless sleep. Upon your impact, several things cracked, most of them, not yours. The husks of the eggs cushioned your fall somewhat, and what’s left of your DEMONICA has escaped with only a few scratches and cuts.

The same, however, can’t nearly be said about your hands. It is a tender mercy that there are no signs of massive trauma, but discoloration of your appendages…how some of it sloughs off to reveal pink and blistering flesh, spell at least of second degree burns. There’s no way in hell that you’re going to be casting anything else without risk of searing the flesh and muscles off your hands…point, blank, at any rate.

But before you can even think about tapping into the Crone’s power, a bone-chilling voice rings through the echoes of the explosion.

“…tHaT hURt…”

From underneath the pile of egg shells and rubble where her body flew, a terrible mass rises from out of the debris. The mass of shadows twists and contorts, growing impossibly bigger with every passing second. Only when the shape rises to a height of nearly twenty feet does it stop growing, and the darkness parts to reveal the Mother of Spiders.

There are too many spikes, is the first thought that pops to your mind. The lower half of her body resembles that of a particularly fat arachnid. But in lieu of hairy skin, an thick armor of chitin covers her thorax completely. And her legs, almost impossibly thin and sharp on their ends, stamp and churn the ground as their owner struggles to stand.

For all intents and purposes, everything above her waist has remained almost identical to her human form. The only noticeable differences, however, is the distended jaw, and the mandibles that twitch and crash together in a chittering rage. Her nails have extended into truly wicked talons, and another pair of pitch-black eyes has opened on the side of her temples.

Of course, the fact that her face is now contorted in a hot and fiery rage should go without saying.

“YOUR STUPIDITY WILL COST YOU EVERYTHING.” Arachne’s voice comes in a slur, spraying the air with a fine spittle of venomous saliva and blood. “I WOUL D HAVE LET YOU RETURN TO THE WORLD OF THE LIVING, BUT NOW YOU HAVE FORCED MY HAND, FOOLISH DEVIL SUMMONER.”

(cont.)

>>2848987
"Thought we'd try some foreplay first."

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>>2848987
The wounds you have inflicted are serious, if not outright-life threatening. Her left breast is completely gone, blasted away from the sheer power of your attack. Nothing remains save for a steaming, angry hole that you might fit a DEMONICA helm. And the less you say about the mess of where her waist meets her thorax, the better.

>Arachne is Injured.

“Foolish and brave are two sides of the same coin!” you shout back, reaching into your body for that same surge of power. This time, you don’t bother with hiding anything as the Crone’s power knits the flesh of your hands back together. Dead skin flakes off, and the angry blisters fade away. Within seconds, the flesh of your hands are hale and whole once more, albeit a little pink.

Her jaw distends, and the noise that issues from it is enough to curdle your blood, raise every hair on your body, and cause the erection between your legs to soften almost instantly. Tender mercies where you can find them. You’re not about to go into battle waving a stiffy.

“I DON’T KNOW HOW YOU DID IT, BUT YOU WILL REGRET USING THAT POWER. I WILL WRING THE SEED FROM YOUR MANHOOD, CRUSH BOTH OF YOUR ARMS ALONG WITH YOUR LEGS…”

“A little too kinky for me…besides, I thought we’d try some foreplay first-”

Without warning, a sudden explosion rips through the cavern, almost enough to knock you off of your feet. The sharp and acrid scent of chemical explosive fills the air, and with eyes watering from the smoke, both you and Arachne turn towards the new hole at the other end of the cavern, another source of light.
And before you can even think or say anything…

“GET YOUR DIRTY HANDS OFF OF MY HUMAN, YOU FILTHY, FILTHY SPIDEERRRRRRRRRRRR!”

Like a firefly straight out of hell, a small demon zips right through the hole with all the speed she can muster. Her entire body is wreathed in lightning, from the tip of her fingers to the hem of her kimono, and the shadows they cast against her face paint her in the light of a vengeful god.

“Zionga!”

A singular bolt of lightning screams from the tip of High Pixie’s finger. It strikes home, and the Mother of Spider screeches as the impacted flesh steams and cooks from the impact.

But even as your first demon rains a vengeful storm upon the enemy, you realize that she not alone. Marred against the sudden light of the hole, all you are aware of is a singular silhouette in the gender-less armor of a DEMONICA suit.

Ah…you can’t help but smile as they charge in, weapon blazing and shouting joyous relief at your (relatively) unharmed presence. It seems that the person that has come to your rescue is…

>A trusted confidant.
>Your closest friend.

>>2849049
>>Your closest friend.

>>2849049
>>A trusted confidant.
McKay?

Pretty sure friend is Fitz.

>>2849049
>Your closest friend.
Cavalry is here. Pixie needs to spam Luster Candy.

>>2849049
>>A trusted confidant.

>>2849049
>Your closest friend.

>>2849049
>>Your closest friend.

>>2849049
>>A trusted confidant.

>>2849049
>A trusted confidant.
This is brady isnt it?

>>2849049
>>Your closest friend.

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>>2849059
>>2849061
>>2849066
>>2849068
>>2849096
“What the fuck is it with yer crotch and attractin’ female demons, Sawbones?” Even with her faceplate down and voice heavily modulated through the DEMONICA helmet, you can practically see the grin on her face. “I was startin’ to think it was a demon thing, but with this crazy eight-legged bitch tryin’ to get into your pants…we’re gonna need to stage an intervention fer you and yer crotch.”

In spite of the situation, with the cacophony of lightning and the still-crumbling cavern, you can’t help but smile. “I’d like to think it’s my animal magnetism and my raw sex appeal.”

“Ha! ‘Animal magnetism?’” She shakes her head, firing a blast towards Arachne for good effect. “Last time I checked, bestiality is still illegal in the state of West Virginia. And I don’t know, Sawbones…sure, she’s half human and all, but I don’t really think I’d be too eager to stick my junk inside a spider’s ass.”

It comes unbidden, almost reflexively before you can even think about stopping it. “…you’ve got junk to stick in her?”

A momentary pause, but she recovers without any sign of discomfort. “’course I do! My massive, throbbin’ five-inch cock, courtesy of Brady. He don’t seem to have been usin' it for a while, so I pawned it off of him for the operation…hey, don’t gimme that look! He ain’t here to complain about me shit-talkin’...”

“So he isn’t…” you observe, squinting at the hole. “I’d ask about the hole, but where the hell are the others?”

She shrugs, gesturing with her thumb behind her back. “Close behind. They shouldn’t be too far out…

“Ah…but fuck me if I can’t see jack shit in this thing…” There’s a sharp hiss of air as Fitz slaps the seal holding her helmet to her suit. With series of profanities and curses, she eventually pries it off of her head, shaking her blonde hair free from its sweat-slicked tangle. It falls to the ground with a heavy thud, promptly ignored for you.

“Get up, Sawbones…” Fitz drawls, dangling her hand in front of your face. “Squad leader shouldn’t be sittin’ on his ass when there’s work to be done.”

Rolling your eyes, you accept the proffered hand. But when you take it, she grips tight, and with a strength beyond her appearance, hauls you off of your feet in a single, sudden motion.

“…don’t you fucking do that again, Adrian…” She hisses into your ear in a low and angry tone. Even with her other hand holding onto her shogun, the one-armed embrace she has you in is tight enough to be felt through the material of your own suit. “…disappearin’ like the way ya did, dragged off by some fuck-huge demon to God knows where we don't even know...”

(cont.)

So we are watching Tremors when we get back to base right?

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>>2849143
That familiar mix of emotions churns in your gut again. Still, you return her embrace as best you can around her gear and your own mangled equipment. It’s awkward, ugly and pretty damn uncomfortable…but you’d be a liar it wasn’t the thing you needed after getting too close to Arachne.

“…I’m sorry,” you offer, “…sorry for making you worry.”

Her body seizes in a forced chuckle. “Worry? You think I’m worried about your ass?”

“Oh, I’d like to think that it’s a nice ass worth saving…” But enough with the banter. Time to cut to the pith of the discussion. “…but thanks. Really means a lot. Mean it, too.”

Fitz grumbles, “Well I’m gonna pop a cap in that ass if you scare me again like that…taking out the leader is the quickest way for a squad to lose cohesion and morale.”

“I’ll try not to make it a habit then,” you reply, and gently extricate yourself from her embrace.

For a moment, the two of you hold your gazes, her blue eyes meeting your light brown. Fitz doesn’t seem to be too keen on breaking it, even as your mouth curves into a small smile. There is nothing else in the world beyond Adrian Brown and his subordinate, Sarah Fitzgerald. In her face is relief poorly masked by a sardonic smirk…but the slight strain in her breath…is that exhaustion from fighting and running, or hints of something else-

“EAT LIGHTNING, COCKROACH!”

And the solemnity moment is promptly ruined by High Pixie blasting the Mother of Spiders with the fairy equivalent of a magical bug zapper. And the both of you suddenly realize where you are, pulling way, only to stand side-by-side, as opposed to face-to-face.

“Ahem…” Clearing your throat, you fight down the sudden awkwardness of your close proximity, gesturing towards her shotgun. “Speaking about ‘popping caps’…you wouldn’t happen to have a spare gun, would you?”

It seems that she only now discovers your distinct lack of a firearm and upper body armor. Fitz chews on her lip, thinking almost visibly before she makes a decision. Reaching towards her hip, she draws her Sig Sauer, presenting it butt-first with perhaps the most serious expression you’ve ever seen her make.

“…this was my old man’s service pistol,” she mutters with an audible fondness, and her eyes seem distant as she remembers something far away from here, “Back when he was on the force. This thing kept Northern Virginia safe for almost twenty years ‘fore he retired.”

…you don’t know what to say. “…of course,” you say her, gently taking the gun, “I’ll be extremely careful with-”

But before you can even take it, she doesn’t let go. Her eyes meet yours once more, and unlike the prior time, this shared glance has none of the previous warmth.

“…if you lose or break this, I’m gonna castrate you,” she says bluntly, and with a completely straight face. “With a rusty spoon. We clear, Sawbones?”

“…crystal!”

(cont.)

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With a sinister laugh, Fitz pumps a fresh round into the chamber of her shotgun, and the two of you face Arachne, weapons and demons at the ready. There is a lull in the combat as Arachne struggles to move with all the electricity in her body, and High Pixie promptly takes advantage of this in the way only she can.

“MAASSSSSTTEEERRRRRR!” She slams into your arm at a high speed, hugging and wailing into your sleeve. “I WAS SOO WORIED THAT YOU’D BEEN EATEN!”

…as she continues to blubber and stain your uniform with tears, both you and Fitz get ready as the Mother of Spiders slowly recovers from her paralysis.

“Just for the record,” Fitz says, summoning Lham Dearg and a nervous Moh Shovuu, “I ain’t scared of spiders.”
Through the hole in the wall, Pyro Jack bobs into the cavern and you eagerly flag him down, replying, “I didn’t ask.”

“Good! Because I wasn’t the one screamin’ like a bitch earlier!”

“Didn’t ask about that either!”

>Arachne is Injured, but is still more than capable of battling the two of you and your demons without too much exertion.

>>You should…
>Fight Arachne and wait for the others to arrive.
>Retreat and reunite with the rest of the Squad.
>Custom option.

>>2849214
>>Custom option.
COMBINATION ATTACK!
DOUBLE MEGIDOLAON WITH PIXIE!

>>2849214
>>Fight Arachne and wait for the others to arrive.

>>2849214
>Fight Arachne and wait for the others to arrive.
Rather not show my back to this thing or let it do it's spider thing and go into ambush mode. Let's just hope the others hoof it.

>>2849214
>Fight Arachne and wait for the others to arrive

>>2849214
>>Fight Arachne and wait for the others to arrive.

I sleep now. Be sure to use Pixie's Luster Candy guys. Buffs might be the key to evening the playing field and surviving long enough for the squad to get here.

Goddammit, don't post anything. Lemme fix that first...

>>2849217
>>2849221
>>2849222
>>2849225
>>2849262
“When are those guys gonna get here?”

“Soon.”

“…better not keep her waiting…”

“That’s what I like to hear!”

>Fitz approves +30.

It seems that High Pixie’s attacks have finally driven the Mother of Spider to a rage beyond comprehensible speech. Arachne’s roars are interlaced with Greek profanities, neigh incomprehensible with the way her mandibles twitch wildly. She lunges at anything and anyone that comes into her range, gouging furrows into the floor with claw and leg alike.

Alas, for her size of twenty feet, it leaves the six combatants plenty of room to work with.

Your demons take advantage of this with extreme gusto. As Lham Dearg distracts her with the bulk of his body, Moh Shuvuu and Pyro Jack weave in and out of her attacks, blasting her with scythes of wind and tongues of fire. What little damage they receive from AOEs and lucky strikes are quickly healed by the supporting High Pixie.

Fitz closes the distance, blasting what exposed flesh she can with powerful bursts from her shotgun. Flames, electricity…even light, at one point, belches from out of the barrel of her weapon. And with the combined enhancement of High Pixie’s buffs and the DEOMONICA suit, she can shrug off the worst of a rending strike or Blast Arrow without too much visible damage.

On the other hand, you take up a careful position and fire at Arachne with Fitz’s pistol. Even with your body reinforced by your fairy’s magics, you’re not nearly comfortable to close the distance and try again for another point-blank Megidolaon. And you’d be a damned idiot before you drop an Almighty spell with everybody so close to her.

“ENOUGH!” Arachne raises the bulk of her body off of the ground, and both demons and humans scatter as she brings it down with a tremendous CRASH. “COME MY CHILDREN, YOUR MOTHER NEEDS YOU...”

Before you can stop her, she fires a silk thread from her back and retreats up to her web in the shadows. But you’re not soon left alone by yourselves. A symphony of crackle echoes throughout the room as the egg sacs along the walls and ceiling crack at the demon’s command.

Some are fully formed demons, the familiar faces of Ubu, Ukiku-Mushi and other insectioid demons from across various myths and legend. But a great many are but Silme, protoplasmic residue from a premature gestation, but still strong enough in numbers to the unprepared.

This isn’t good…

“What the fuck do we do?” Fitz shouts, blasting a Slime as it surges towards you. “We need a plan, Sawbones!”

You can think of two immediate objectives…

>Burn the eggs to prevent reinforcements. [Medium DC]
>Destroy the support beams of Arachne’s web. [High DC]

>>Choose one:
>Adrian will destroy the eggs, Fitz will flush Arachne out.
>Adrian will flush Arachne out, Fitz will destroy the eggs.
>Custom option.

Hitting the hay. Will resume tomorrow evening.

>>2849267
What if we just run now? Pyro and pixie can fire/thunder weakness their way to clear a path, we've already secured a major advantage by forcing the slimespawn.

If arachne intends to ambush us, we're better off moving than sitting still being distracted by the horde.

>>2849274
>Destroy the support beams of Arachne’s web. [High DC]
>Webs burn yeah? Pyro jack set them alight!

>>2848588
I love that one. Shame no one else likes the crossbow girl.

>>2849274
>Adrian will destroy the eggs, Fitz will flush Arachne out.

Fitz has a better weapon and better armor. She's better suited to flushing out Arachne and forcing her into direct combat, I'd say.

>>2849274
>>Adrian will destroy the eggs, Fitz will flush Arachne out.
We are now Ripley and Pyro Jack is our flamethrower.

>>2849471
>>2849274
As an addendum to this vote Fitz should use her Inugami to burn the supports with Agilao

>>2849274
>Adrian will destroy the eggs, Fitz will flush Arachne out.
Supporting this Anon's idea as well >>2849514

>>2849274
>>Destroy the support beams of Arachne’s web. [High DC]

>>Adrian will destroy the eggs, Fitz will flush Arachne out.

dead kaz

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>>2851411

>>2849276
>>2849362
>>2849471
>>2849573
>>2849773
“Split up!” you call, sprinting before you even finish your command, “I’ll take care of the eggs, you get the spider web! See if you can’t hit those support pillars and set the web on fire!”

“Motherfuck...Sawbones!” Fitz shouts angrily as you dash away, “...god fucking…fine!” Cursing underneath her breath, the policewoman brandishes her gun wildly as she charges towards the web. And within seconds, the cavern echoes with the blasts of her shotgun and the perfunctory profanities of your closest friend. “Eat lead, ya googly-eyed bitch!

It’s almost enough to bring a tear to your eye.

“Orders, master?” Pyro Jack queries.

Coming to a stop by a dense cluster of eggs, you gesture towards the collection, simply saying, “Burn them all.”

“Understood.”

The flame within his lantern burns a hot and incandescent red. You can almost make out the sound of a high-pitched whine before a tendril of fire coils out of the tool. It is a vortex of flame, a tongue of pure heat that coils around the demon before lashing out towards their targets.

What must have been several weeks of gestation takes only a handful of moments to destroy. It takes only mere seconds of close proximity with the flame before they boil, their shells withering, shriveling and belting underneath the heat. Some even explode, showering the area with steaming, demonic chunks of flesh, blood and bone.

Cursing as some of the worst of it goes up your nose and into your mouth, you spit out the swill and suppress the urge to vomit. “Hey, Pixie…”

She’s already hovering right in front of you, arm held out protectively as she stands between you and the oncoming horde of spider monsters and demonic slime. The little fairy’s breath comes out in short, ragged gasps as she struggles to maintain her flight pattern. It touches your heart, the sight of her keeping a stiff upper lip even as she tries to hide the unease and exhaustion at the enemies before her.

High Pixie yelps as you tap her shoulder, but she offers no resistance, as you gently turn her around. “…take five, will you? And if not that, at least a couple of headache pills…even some of that fruity crap we picked up in the fairy forest.”

The fairy shakes her head, and the motion almost upsets her balance. “…I…can still fight…”

“And I have no doubt about that,” you answer, “But I saw that your daring rescue of my sorry ass took a whole lot out of you. Wreathing your body in lightning, those reparative attacks, constantly buffing the others…”

Pixie meets your eyes with as much of a defensive, petulant glare as she can. “…necessary…”

Countering, you slap the contents of your utility belt, miraculously left undisturbed on your person. “And so are these. This is non-negotiable.”

(cont.)

Worry creases her brow, shifting to outright fear as you gesture for her to fall behind you. “…but you only have a pistol…and your DEMONICA is ruined…you aren’t gonna…stand a…chance…”

Flipping the safety off of Fitz’s handgun, you can’t help but grin at the sight of her words dying in her mouth, and her jaw completely dropping as magical energy gathers in the palm of your hand. “Wanna bet?”

"...but...that's...you can't be..." Her resistance quickly turns to wide-eyed shock, and frantic pointing towards the ball of magic dancing at your fingertips. "...that should't be possible!"

"I'll explain later," you promise, taking aim with both gun and hand at the charging demons. "You can count on that."

>Roll 1d100+20 Combat.
>Best out of three.

Rolled 52 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>2851597

Rolled 42 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>2851597

Rolled 55 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>2851597
Come onnnnn nat 1, make Adrian look like an utter buffoon!

>>2848660
*Anon will remember this*

>>2851932
Pro tip: IRL is never willing.

>>2851599
>>2851607
>>2851609
A bullet between the eyes is a normally lethal and permanent way of putting down a demon. Of course, that all depended on the caliber, the thickness of the demon’s skull, and whether or not it had caused sufficient brain damage. For the Ubu demons, it isn’t as much as the bullet in the forehead as much as how jumpy the little bastards are. The ideal weapon for these twitchy things would be a shotgun or automatic.

That being said, the Crone’s gift provides just as much range, if not more, than those aforementioned firearms. Wave after wave of baby-spider demons disintegrate underneath the sheer force of your Megidolaon, leaving nothing but fine mist and charred residue.

You place your shots towards the Okiku Mushi and the Slime, the slowest elements of the horde. The worm-women and (barely) sentient protoplasm fall just as easy to your bullets as they do to Almighty magic.

Dispatching the charging horde is merely an exercise in trigger discipline, if not an outright chore. Shoot one demon, clear a wave with Megidolaon, shoot another demon, blast the next wave…and so on and so forth. The only time this cycle comes to a halt is when the firing pin makes a loud and noticeable CLICK.

It is a tender mercy that the ammunition left on your belt is compatible with Fitz’s pistol. But no matter how fast you reload the weapon, those precious few seconds leave you vulnerable to attack.

What’s left of your armor puts up a valiant defense, but even it can’t hold off every single blow. The Ubu don’t nearly have the teeth to bite through your reinforced boots, but their claws scratch and perforate through the weaker, cracked sections.

What projectiles come your way tend to be easily dodged, thanks to High Pixie’s magic. However, the odd Needle Shot that manages to land hurts like a mother, but doesn’t penetrate too deeply, barely more than an inch or two. A tender mercy, if not the worrying number sticking out of your arms and chest.

>You have suffered minor injuries, but are still able to fight.

High Pixie seems to have gained a fierce second wind. The little fairy zips around the battlefield, cooking what enemies you miss or try to outflank your spell range. “Get away from my master, you…you…ugly cockroaches! Worm-women! Ritual rejects!”

By now, what was once a warm and comfortable heat at your back has grown into something truly intolerable. A disgusting, putrefying, eye-watering stench accompanies the acrid smell of smoke. The little fire from Pyro Jack’s lantern has turned into a veritable inferno, consuming the wall of eggs in a merciless and ravenous hunger. Some of their occupants simply cook inertly, while others burst from the sheer temperature of the blaze.

Worse still are those who struggle to escape, desperately clawing their way out, falling onto the ground with sickening noises, all the while crying for mother before underdeveloped lungs choke in the fumes of the smoke.

(cont.)

…on one hand, you can’t help but feel nauseous, horrified and disgusted at the sight before you. Even with their small mandibles, unnaturally large eyes, and the eight legs propping up their little bodies…the demons almost look like human infants. Their howls of pain, and gurgling, choked screams will be haunting you for the foreseeable future.

…on the other hand…this is as close to being Ripley that you’re going to get, and you’d be damned if you didn’t enjoy that moment to the fullest extent. Damn shame you don’t have the XX or YY chromosomes to complete the emulation.

“Quit skitterin’ around and stand still!”

…speaking of the fairer sex…

It seems that Fitz had the same general idea as you did when approaching her task. Namely, that of liberal and copious amounts of fire. As Lham Dearg runs maniacally, chopping and stabbing at the slightest movement in the web, an Inugami coils protectively around her. Smoke pours out of the demon dog’s nose, and every bark summons a brilliant conflagration of flame.

Already, several portions of the web are alight, burning merrily as they slowly inch from the ground and up towards the ceiling. The flickering tendrils eat into the darkness of the uppermost part of the room, slowly revealing the true “home” of the Mother of Spiders.

You can count at least three objects the size of small cars, suspended in the web by a lattice of reinforced silk. Their contents are a mystery, but with the smaller bundles, with the husked remains of human bones and withered corpses sticking out of them…you can guess as to what might be in them.

Hopefully they were a part of the “willing sacrifices” or “regretful meals”, and not the lovers she admitted to taking into her parlor…web…whatever.

Even as you process this, however, there is still a large number of demons in the horde that survived your impromptu battle. Easily no more than several dozen, but you don’t think you have the ammunition nor the time to engage them. And from the hesitant looks on their faces, as well as the worried looks they cast to you, your demons and the burning wall behind you, they aren’t too keen on fighting you as well.

It seems that pure instinct has kept them from attacking you, delegating all three types of demons to regard you with wary and hesitant expressions. But that could all change in an instant, especially if their Mother gave them orders to attack.

>Follow through the mission and slaughter them all.
>Show mercy and let them flee from the Domain.

>>2854959
>Follow through the mission and slaughter them all.
They may not be hostile now, but leaving a group of enemies undistributed sounds like a recipe for getting ambushed or attacked later on.

>>2854959
>Follow through the mission and slaughter them all.

>>2854959
Killing them is all well and fine, but we're spent too. I'd rather let them go both to catch a breath and to let the mob of demons leave a trail for the rest of the squad to follow.

>>2854959
Step aside to let them run. We’re low on ammo and mana. Any that don’t die.

>>2854949
>>Follow through the mission and slaughter them all.
A bunch of demons running on instinct who are about to lose their guidance from their Mother? It would be a bad idea to let them go free.

If we and our current demons are drained just summon Tengu to clean these guys up.

>>2854959
>>Follow through the mission and slaughter them all.
No survivors

>>2854959
>Follow through with the mission and kill them all

RIP AND TEAR until it's done.

>>2855107
>>2855142
>>2855238
>>2855293
>>2855298
“It’s nothing personal, guys. Really mean it, too,” you mutter, holstering your borrowed pistol. For a moment, a spot of hope appears in their eyes, and tentative smiles at the mercy they will receive. But it quickly fades away, ceding to confusion, then horror as your raise both of your hands towards them. “…it’s just business.”

>Together with Pyro Jack and High Pixie, you exterminated all of Arachne’s children.
>+5 Law

The only proof that the horde existed are scorch marks, seared into the ground through the sheer power of your combined magic. Not a single demon survived the assault. A draft in the cavern carries the remaining particulates and the smell of burnt flesh up and throughout the room.

“Master…” High Pixie hovers before you, concern written across her features. She must have seen the look on your face.

Offering a tired, but genuine smile, you brush off those silent questions with a wave of your hand. “I’ll be alright.”

A sudden and terrible scream fills the air, dropping the three of you to your knees. It is a guttural howl, something that no human could have ever vocalized, but it is not so alien. A complete and utter primal despair, a monstrous hatred, and the lamentations of a mother…emotions that all too human for something as far removed as the Mother of Spiders.

There is a sharp noise, a muffled curse as Arachne sweeps her arm in a vicious and motion. Caught unaware and in the middle of burning her last support, the blow knocks Fitz completely off of her feet. You watch in horror as your friend flies through the air at a violent speed. The noise of her impact with the wall sends releases a sharp and piercing CRACK throughout the room.

You can’t help but scream. “Fitz!”

She offers no response. The speakers of her DEMONICA are silent as she stirs listlessly, before crashing down onto the floor. For a terrible, dreadful moment, you fear the worst, and you couldn’t give a damn about anything else in the room or the world than the crumpled form of your teammate.

In the distance, as if an entire world away, you can hear Arachne screaming,howling over the ruined eggs and ashes that sift through her fingers. The Mother of Spiders is inconsolable in her own right. How could she not? The emotional bond between parent and child is something that is shared between almost all species in the entire world. Demons are no exception, even ones that used to be human.

(cont.)

Fear gives you a speed beyond magic, and the distance between both of you closes in almost the span of a few heartbeats. But before you can even get too close, a tremendous force almost knocks you sideways. Lham Dearg doesn’t look backward, but Inugami offers a low and threatening growl as they circle protectively around their master.

“Hey!” High Pixie shouts, flashing her teeth in anger. “The hell was that-”

The dog demon cuts her off with a fierce snort, pointing to you with the end of its tail. “Master like this because of him, his orders.”

“…she knew what she was getting into!”

“Because he was too weak to fight her.”

As the two of them argue back and forth, the Scottish ghost keeps a wary eye on the mournful Arachne. After determining that she won’t suddenly attack, he lets you pass without batting a single eye. His priorities lie elsewhere, it seems.

Trembling hands reach for what paltry supplies are at your belt as you assess the situation. A large gash on her forehead, contusions along her neck, blood matting the blonde hair she’s been growing out. Mercifully, she is still breathing, but with an impact like that, especially without a helmet…

The human brain is a fickle thing, a complex organ responsible for all of the body’s functions. Even the slightest of head injuries has lasting consequences. A mere chemical imbalance can cause depression or manic behavior. Sufficient trauma can leave someone comatose or braindead-

“…did ya get the plate of the truck that hit me?”

For a moment, you thought you imagined her voice. Then, the relief is almost enough to drive you to your hands and knees as her eyes struggle, then open past the blood pouring down the side of her face. Releasing a deep, shuddering breath, you can only laugh as the slowly moving form of Fitz continues to utter profanities underneath her breath.

“…I’m alright…just takin’ a quick breather, Sawbones,” her voice rasps dryly from the external speakers. Cursing, wincing at every single motion her body makes, she is somehow able to prop herself up. “…no more than a minute or two…then I’ll be back in the fight…”

The thick material of the DEMONICA obscures everything and anything that could be too obvious. Nothing seems to be visibly broken, but not all symptoms are as easily visible as bones sticking out of skin. No blood either, and she doesn’t appear to have any trouble breathing. But as she tries to reach out towards her shogun with her arms, one of them only stirs idly.

“…the fuck?”

“Dislocated shoulder,” you automatically answer, quickly moving to the affected area. Litanies of expletives hiss from out of her mouth as you apply a small amount of pressure at certain spots along her arm. The plating of her armor seems to be broken in multiple spots, but hasn’t otherwise injured her. “…we gotta get you out of this so I can pop it back into place…assess further damage…”

(cont.)

>>2856355
Or you can just Salvation her, but I guess Adrian wants to flex his medicine muscles.

>>2856355
Her laughter, or the wheeze that you assumed was a bark of amusement, lasts only for a handful of seconds before it devolves into a coughing fit. “…’spose that’s only fair…considerin’ that you’re halfway to bein’ naked yourself…”

“This isn’t the time to joke around!” She offers no resistance as you place a hand on her brow, but her eyes go wide as the Crone’s healing spell takes effect on her body. The gash quickly closes shut, leaving only the faintest of scars, barely visible even with the fading motes of light. Before she can even protest or demand an explanation, you cut her off. “You could have broken ribs, a thrown clot, internal hemorrhaging…”

Her good hand suddenly comes up, gripping your arm with a surprising strength. “Forget about treatin’ me…” Fitz growls, her voice low and sharp, “…you’ve got somethin’ more pressing to worry about than my sorry ass…”

Almost as if on cue, Arachne unleashes another keening wail, this one sharper than the one before. Inugami and High Pixie cease their argument, falling into line with Pyro Jack and Lham Dearg as the Mother of Spiders turns all eight of her eyes towards you in a single, baleful glare.

“MURDERER,” She roars, and the very walls of the cavern shake with the intensity of her fury. “MONSTER, DECIEVER, LIAR, CHILD KILLER. THEY HAD NOT EVEN HAD THE CHANCE TO LIVE BEFORE YOU SNUFFED OUT THEIR LIVES, CRUSHED THEM IN THEIR SHELLS.

“IT WAS A MISTAKE TO OFFER YOU A ROLE AS BROODFATHER. YOU ARE NO BETTER THAN THOSE WRETCHED, ACCURSED OLYMPIANS.”

Ignoring the unspoken question and critical eyebrow from Fitz, you shout back…

>“I only showed you how far I’d to go to protect my kin…demon.”
>“Lives you would’ve sacrificed anyway for your own vengeance!”
>“Stand down, Arachne. You’re finished, and there’s nowhere to go.”
>Custom option.

>>2856480
>Dead on their feet or dead in the egg, you were planning to sacrifice them all anyways just to have your vengeance. All they were to your were tools, now with their passing you claim to care for them? I showed you what it would cost, nay I showed you a FRACTION of what you rage would cost you Arachne. After all we're just new and inexperienced summoners, and you plan to try and tackle a pantheon that would have a sizeable chunk of people like us but better armed and equipped backing them up. Your ambition ends here one way or another.

>>2856480
>“Lives you would’ve sacrificed anyway for your own vengeance!”
"Arachne if you truly remember the choice you made that day when you stood up to Athena, where you were tired of powerful beings using humans or sacrifices for their own gain you should know EXACTLY why I am fighting you right now!"