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Comments
- With sharp, crackling tones, Kyrra tells you, "The ladies must love you immensely."
- (Eleusian Ranger Techs): Savira says, "Most of the hard stuff seem to have this built in code like: If adventurer_hitting_me = "Sarathai" then send("terminate and selfdestruct")."
- Makarios says, "Serve well and perish."
- Xaden says, "Xaden confirmed scrub 2017."
That roleplay thing...I'm doing it right...right?
art stream / twitter / ko-fi
Just wanna thank @Carmain, @Mathonwy and @Ulrike for the help. And also @Taraus for helping with the item itself - It's hard to make a little orb interesting but hot dang, you have a gift.
The item itself is now in our house and it has a series of interactions that I think are pretty damn fun!
There will be some spammy chanting and such, so don't mind that, but for any interested in daemonic entities, do feel free to read!
http://pastebin.com/8KnqaQnx
That love soon might end You are unbreaking
And be known in its aching Though quaking
Shown in this shaking Though crazy
Lately of my wasteland, baby That's just wasteland, baby
expressed.
You say in Mhaldorian in a trenchant voice, "Mhaldor, I present to you a holiday
gift, a work of art in the form of both oppression and suffering, unified into one.
Something I've been rebuilding for quite some time now, ever since I found a few
curious cogs in the rubble of our history."
Kitiara raises two fingers into her mouth and with a sharp whistle you hear the
gates of Mhaldor swing open from the down as a tall structure is seen in the
distance.
A great chorus of shouts and cries stir themselves into existence as Kitiara's eyes
flicker eagerly. The sound of rattling chains and groaning metal seeps through the
fray as a huge machine is drawn into the room by a large gang of heavily clad orcs.
Its huge wheels turn slowly and arduously as it grinds its way along.
You say excitedly in Mhaldorian in a trenchant voice, "Behold! A musical instrument
for the exquisite sounds of torture!"
With a wave of her hand, Kitiara gestures at what seems to be a massive, archaic
musical organ. Tall, bloodied torture racks stand erected at the top of a platform
above where pipes would be normally be.
Kitiara claps her hands together once with glee as she looks up at the magnificent
structure. Various sized mhun slaves are tightly strapped naked to each of the
racks. Their eyes filled with pleading terror as you observe an array of blades,
needles, clamps and other more unspeakable instruments of suffering, hovering above
them idly. Each tool connected to cogs and wheels that twist into a maze of
mechanism before ending at a keyboard arrangement at the base.
You say in Mhaldorian in a trenchant voice, "Witness the beauty that is suffering.
For each scream is a chorale to Him in a blood soaked cacophony of torment."
With a maddening hop skip to the machine's base, Kitiara flips the tails of her
coat back as she sits on the stool in front of the keys. She laces her fingers
together before cracking them and lightly places her fingertips on the board.
A sadistic grin creeps up Kitiara's features as she pulls one of the many knobs on
the backboard of where the keys rest and looks up at the ominous machine. A series
of movement within the grinding gears turn about before numerous massive metal
blocks, previously hanging above each other mhun slave's heads, come crashing down
simultaneously into their mouths. The loud sound of crunching teeth pierce the air.
The slaves' distressing cries become quiet and muffled.
Kitiara presses and holds down on a single key as she looks up at the ominous
machine. The silencers are released, lifted out of their mouths, as a few blades
sway in the air as they cut into delicate flesh. Screams and wails intertwined
together in a agonizing acapella as blood of their wound drips down into a trough
below.
A sinister cackle escapes Kitiara's lips as she continues to press various keys as
the thunderous cries echo into the city. The low gurgling howls undertone the high
screeches of the younger slaves as their weeps and lamentful murmurs form haunting
hymns of pain.
Kitiara lifts her fingers from the keys, causing the silencers to come smashing
back down into the mouths as the blades halt in the air.
Kitiara smirks as she glances up from beneath her brow. Her fingertips start
majestically gliding over the key, pressing them in a proficient and intentional
order. The various tools of torture equally glide and sway at her keystrokes as the
mufflers are released to the sounds of agonizing cries.
Sharp tools pierce deeply into the flesh as they twist and rip chunks out of the
captives. Blades whirl about as they cut the sign of the Seven across their chest
and thick blood starts to coat their naked bodies. Blood splashing about onto the
ground. Kitiara closes her eyes as she listens to the soothing sounds of torment.
Ainly smirks.
With a pull of another knob, all but one silencer comes crashing down to silence
the screams. Kitiara glares up at the mhun slave who continues to scream without a
silencer. The torture tools stop as the slave's eyes become hollow and his body
trembles.
Saeva takes a step back as a spray of blood gushes towards her.
Kitiara pushes a button and a three pronged metal tool hovers above the slave's
nether regions. Grasping tightly around him, the tool spins and rips him apart as he
cries out in agony before passing out.
You clap your hands together merrily.
The blood filled trough becomes full as Kitiara continues to play. The screams
start to die down with each mhun passing out one by one. The trough, weighted by the
crimson liquid, shifts and totters to the left as the blood pours into a metal
container with a spout.
Kiet finds the largest nearby living shield, Aegoth, and steps behind him to avoid
any sprays of blood, too.
Aegoth lets the blood soak him, reveling in a war, cleansing shower of blood. With a
rumble, he shakes himself, splattering blood everywhere, coating everyone in
droplets much like a shaggy dog full of mud would.
Kitiara presses another button as the container shifts and cranks before violently
spitting out blood high into the air. The scarlet fluid rains gloriously down upon
all who observe.
Kitiara stands back up and turns to the crowd. She extends her arms wide as she
twirls in blood before removing her top hat as she takes a step back into a deep bow
as blood continues to drench the area. Each scream and cry dwindles down one by one
into silence as death consumes them.
Saeva wipes the rained blood from her eyes with a neutral expression.
Kiet creases his brow in a frown.
Saeva glances at the mutilated mhun bodies.
Ainly says to you in a deep voice, "That was enchanting."
Saeva Aristata, Insid'atori says to you, "Quite the performance, Purifier."
Kiet says in a clear, confident voice, "Very... interesting."
Tyrannus Xinna Dracrotalus, Dread Legate says in Mhaldorian, "Very... messy."
Kitiara nods at the massive orc slaves as she orders them to take the machine to
clean it. They hastily obey and drag it back out to the down.
The corners of your mouth turn up as you grin mischievously.
Ainly says to you in a deep voice, "I would like to give that instrument a go one of
these days."
You nod your head at Ainly.
Taraus takes a moment to wipe the blood from a disheveled eyebrow before she offers
you a smatter of applause.
Kiet claps very, very uncertainly, looking around the gathered crowd to see if he's
the only one.
You say to Ainly in Mhaldorian in a trenchant voice, "Certainly."
Aegoth rumbles a bit as he casually licks the blood from his claws, muttering "Yes,
yesssss... nicely done," while his eyes are transfixed by the scene.
You say in Mhaldorian in a trenchant voice, "Thank you for relishing in the
performance."
Ainly says to you in a deep voice, "Such a clever use of torture reminds me of my
youth. Thank you for that."
Sylphiel allows the blood to soak onto her simple clothing. Small sprinkles of blood
coat her face. Her eyes looking up at the organ, watching the blood continuing to
drip.
Medi says, "If kit says to show up somewhere, bring an apron."
Medi says, "Rule of thumb."
Still, very nice! I would have giggled at it.
Medi says, "If kit says to show up somewhere, bring an apron."
Medi says, "Rule of thumb."
- With sharp, crackling tones, Kyrra tells you, "The ladies must love you immensely."
- (Eleusian Ranger Techs): Savira says, "Most of the hard stuff seem to have this built in code like: If adventurer_hitting_me = "Sarathai" then send("terminate and selfdestruct")."
- Makarios says, "Serve well and perish."
- Xaden says, "Xaden confirmed scrub 2017."
[ SnB PvP Guide | Link ]
Please tell me this was the inspiration.
Medi says, "If kit says to show up somewhere, bring an apron."
Medi says, "Rule of thumb."
-dons a black veil and sneaks into Mhaldor to place flowers for Demian-
Mhaldor-encouraged mudsex oh my. It was at least somewhat tasteful.
RIP demonic prostitution.
Penwize has cowardly forfeited the challenge to mortal combat issued by Atalkez.
"Oooooooooh!" you say to a piece of biscotti, eyes wide with wonder.
You take a piece of biscotti by the hand, draw it into you, and whisper, "I love
you."
You playfully nibble on a piece of biscotti's lower lip before giving it a soft,
sweet kiss.
Yae Longshanks says to Mycen, "Your husband is cheating on you with a biscotti."
You twirl about in front of a piece of biscotti, laughing gaily.
You display a piece of biscotti for all in the room to see.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You are holding:
Misc:
biscotti263702 a piece of biscotti
Long and cylindrical, this slice of biscotti is firm and possessed of a cookie-
like crunch that sheds crumbs with every bite. Almonds are embedded in it,
lending a mild hint of their flavour to the mellow cocoa of the delicacy. Its
shape and structure seem perfect for dunking, while the taste perfectly suits a
kawhe enhancement.
It has about a month of usefulness left.
It weighs 5 ounce(s).
You sidle up to a piece of biscotti and drool on it.
You regard a piece of biscotti with shifty eyes, looking it up and down.
You eat a piece of biscotti with gusto.
Your breath sizzles as you say, "Now I am sad."
Your breath sizzles as you say, "For I have no biscotti."
A lump forms in your throat as emotion overwhelms you; a single tear runs down
your cheek.
Mycen says to Yae with a soft, purring accent, "He does it often."
[spoiler]
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