Our minds were burned with something which will never let us breathe easily again…
Typical Threnodite drama.
Philico crouched in the Forests of Hell, keeping the Elder Things at bay as he had done for the entirety of the trip. While the power and corruptive force of the Things had driven Danforth and the others past insanity into something else, where they were held captive by the whims of the Things, Philico lassoed that power and kept it in check. Controlled it. Made a… Connection with it, so to speak.
He could breathe just fine, too.
His accomplices, however, were doing worse than not breathing easily, that is not breathing at all. One by one Philico had watched them die… Vonne from a stray Spell that Fade himself had cast, then Fade for being seen killing in the night, and most recently Danforth- caught up in his own glory and too far gone to show any symptoms of insanity. It was just a process of elimination for the expeditioners.
But Philico…
Philico still lived. And hopefully still would, when this all was over. It had to come down to just one other. The one called Azmine. He had come to Philico earlier in the trip, confiding to be an Expert in the behavior and aggressiveness of the Shades. It would be tough to kill that one. Easier, now that Philico had stuck a knife through Silence Montane’s throat- a feat only possible because of poison he had so callously slipped into her drink the day before- but still difficult.
Philico grinned. This… would be a challenge. He liked a challenge.
The grin turned to a giggle.
Philico paused.
Perhaps he was a bit crazy after all.
Shaking his head, Philico rose from his resting point. He had to pay a visit with the expeditioners’ favorite professor.
* * *
As he crept through the underbrush, surroundings completely encased in shadow, Philico was again glad he didn’t see like humans did. Or didn’t, in this thick of darkness. His steps were silent, leaves not even making a sound.
A few moments later, a small light appeared in between some trees, inside of a tent and illuminating only the form of it. Approaching a bit closer, Philico could see the shadowed forms of two people inside, in hushed conversation. That horrible reporter, Starlingo, and William Dyer himself.
Once Philico got within a few feet of the tent, a sharp whine pierced his head suddenly, as if a high-pitched siren went off in between his ears. The Elder Thing within him shriveled up and screamed a silent plea of pain. The pendant was doing its work.
Philico gritted his teeth and stepped forward, carefully positioning himself so as not to be in the beam of light steadily shining from inside the tent. He couldn’t have Dyer spotting him prematurely- or at all, if possible.
Philico paused right outside of the corner of Dyer’s tent, and reared back his foot, planning to deliver a swift kick with the hope of breaking the pendant. Perhaps the whine was messing with his thinking, though, because that was a terrible idea- a fact which he caught mid leg-swing. He needed something… better. Far better.
Still being as quiet as sleeplessly possible, Philico turned so his back was to the tent and began to weave a little something out of himself. Hordelings sewed together to form a dark and evil shape, a different, more natural evil than his own from the Things. Not that it was natural, just… more so.
Philico sent the Shade imitation forth, ripping open the tent doors and grabbing Starlingo by the hair. She didn’t have time to scream. To her, he was sure, it felt like the very spirit of existence was being stolen from her body when in reality nothing was happening. But suggestion was a powerful thing, especially on this planet. When you thought a Shade was eating your soul, a Shade was eating your soul.
Dyer futilely tried to wave Philico away, but he held fast. Any moment now, Starlingo would collapse, thinking herself dead… perhaps she would be dead…
The whine suddenly grew to a screech. Philico screamed, a feeling like a nail being pounded into his head shook his whole body. He recoiled, his Shade self rigid and unmoving as he writhed on the ground. Philico never would have attacked directly if he had known that Starlingo had the pendant, if he had known the pain that would come. Briefly, Philico saw Dyer also on the ground, hands to his ears.
Starlingo then began to chant, a ritual that sounded ancient and made-up, but with the power that filled the air it clearly wasn’t. Philico’s Shade section moved to cover Dyer, encasing the man in pitch black hordelings. His scream was drowned out by the energy that vibrated existence as the spell finished. It was as if the world was a mirror that someone had just shattered.
Philico fled.
The pain was too much, but he managed to dissipate into hordelings and blanket away, about two hundred yards out from the tent. There he took human form once more. Panting as he watched Dyer’s tent. They’d never be able to see him from here, if they had survived.
What in the name of Adonalsium had just happened?
“I see you, Philico. You cannot hide from the magics that gave you power.”
Philico cursed. Starlingo had survived after all.
“Sally?” He said, trying to sound natural. “I was just-”
“You killed Sally with your Shade,” Starlingo said. What? That doesn’t make any sense. “This body is sustained by a sacrifice. A life taken to the void.”
Philico tried to make sense of what had happened, but he was truly at a loss. Who was he talking to? Or what? Had the Evil taken control of Starlingo’s body, coming back to taunt him?
He scrambled back, suddenly afraid of the reporter. She continued, speaking in a crazed voice that rose high above the trees.
“As I have been marked with an Elder Sign, I mark you, Sleepless One, for death. I will have your lifeforce, and with it, the knowledge how to use this gift.” She raised her hand, and a symbol branded on it glowed in the night. She smiled, but there was no warmth within.
Oh no you don’t, witch. My lifeforce isn’t done with me yet.
Philico split in two, one horde rushing towards Starlingo and the other fleeing back to the main camp. Simultaneously he encased Starlingo as well as swept into his tent, snatching up the leftover Fenweed and rushing back out into the night. Quintus poked his head out of the tent. “It’s Philico!” he said aloud.
Azmine and Szeth emerged from theirs as well. Philico was long gone before they could give chase, leaving them staring at each other in the darkness, knowing they were at long last safe.
Philico’s hordelings burned at Starlingo’s touch, some getting fried completely and falling to the ground as dead as anything else the Elder Things touched. Starlingo fell to the ground, screaming a mantra of life and death and starlight that Philico ignored. He then left her on the ground, hordes reconveining, rushing back into the heart of the Forest. Towards to Perpendicularity.
He was done with Threnody, but he had unfinished business here. Threnody likely wasn’t done with him. The Elder Things were both a nuisance and an ally, but their influence only went as far as the planet they resided on. When he left, they would leave him.
He thought back to Starlingo, shrieking on the ground as she tried to eat Philico’s life.
Yes… Perhaps that was for the better after all.
* * *
Did I fool anyone?
Whew, what a game. There's lots I could say here... I could point out how the ruleset seemed village favored; how not a one of us was caught outside of mechanics (Araris and I through DtH, Vonne through a Spellbook misfire, Quinn through Insanity [or the lack thereof]) and probably some other things I'm forgetting. And I guess by saying this I'm pointing it out anyway :P.
But honestly? I don't care, because I had a blast this game. @Araris Valerian, @Quintessential, and @vonnegut were awesome teammates and so fun to work with. I made more elaborate and last-ditch plans then any other game, ever- except maybe LG72- but even then I'm not sure. And though they didn't work, though RNG really hated me this game, it probably was one of my favorites, up there with the aforementioned LG72 and MR42, my first. So thanks to @Elandera, @The Unknown Order, and @Devotary of Spontaneity for making that happen.
Now, that's not to say I wouldn't change some of the rules around a bit for a (re)rerun I do think Discover the Hidden needs a downgrade if it's still gonna be made available to everyone. Danforth not going insane ended up being more of a crutch, which was something I wasn't expecting, so I might change that too. The Spellbook was our own error, so that's fine. Overall I thought it was a pretty good balanced game- it did come down to the wire, after all- but the little bit about all 4 of us being killed through mechanics one way or another is a statistic that exists The village does deserve some more wins, but they've taken 3 out of the last 4 LGs, so maybe it's time the elims got one back
Thanks to all my PM buddies for making it fun, too. I very much enjoyed your roleclaims. Along with narrating basically everything you said to me into the elim doc Which, by the way, is 82 pages. That's what you get with me/Araris/Quinn
Speaking of which, I need to read the dead doc. I hear it's shorter, but I don't expect it to be too much shorter, that'd be disappointing. I may comment on some of those things idk.
Final thoughts would be 1) I need to stop losing elim games via mechanics, we're up to at least 3 now xD and 2) I need to survive more games, too. Only lived through 5 smh.
Off to read the dead doc...
It's kind of funny though- the game might have gone worse for us if you had read it right. We probably would have had you protect one of us submitting the kill, meaning that me or vonne would have been scanned even earlier- I think both of us were scanned N1 So it all works out.
Edit: Read the dead doc and commented on things, but lost it all trying to edit it into this message :P. I approve of all the mechanic changes though, and it was nice to see that was a big discussion point early on.
