Bay 12 Games Forum

((I'm pretty sure those guys fighting are the underworld contacts.))

((Huh. Well, hopefully the actual guy in charge with the orange voice can rein the bloodlust dude in or somesuch. I'm not in a position to IC do that, unfortunately.))

*annoyed blurble*

Climb my way out of the trough. Use my knives for climbing if I need to. Recapture my prey.

"Very well then. Gather a bit more, warbeast, and we'll depart."

Have the warbeast gather a few more trees beyond the amount we'll likely need to rebuild the structures just in case of fuckups, and then do the Xan thing and throw a bigass fireball into the tree lake (after everyone else is out of it).

"I make my own luck anyway," says Daniels. He briefly considers the juggler's situation - it's entire world is pain and it has no means to survive, rendering its entire existence nothing but abject misery and agony. He licks his lips at how that's going to taste and decides that this poor bastard needs some reassurance.

"Hey! OI! Juggler! Quiet down! You don't know what's going on and everything in you is excruciating, true. But you're forgetting something - everything in this world has a purpose! I'm on the path to finding my own, and it'll take a while to do that. But you're luckier than I - your purpose is to be sustenance for others, to give of your own flesh so that others may live! You are food of the highest caliber! So fear not oblivion, for it brings both salvation for others and also a great amount of karmic weight for you - when you are next reborn, it will surely be in a sublime body for your self-sacrifice here today. Let me help you achieve your purpose. I can promise that it will be over quickly."

Philosophy battle the food! Always tastes better after putting some work into it. If my words get through to it, herd it back into the oven. If not, or it keeps screaming or something, SILENCE it so that my words may reach its core.

Play 'This Little Piggy' by pulling out his remaining finger and toenails. Then make him eat them.

Daniels pulls out his speaking trumpet, having gotten thoroughly into the spirit of things. "Oi! You juggler thing! That was very rude, get back in the oven to be cooked for us."

Make sure I'm not allowed to just slice this thing up with my murder-thought. If I am, try cutting it in half or something. Assuming I'm not, though, just use my murder-thought to prevent it from going in any particular direction I don't want it to go, and use the door I have to push it back into the oven without burning myself.

"By donation, do you mean of money or just helping you guys out? I can do either, I've got time."

Do the chefs want help? I've got pretty much the ultimate knife, after all.

"Aw, you almost made it out! Look, there's even others and stuff ready to help you.
...
Well, that's enough of that. Time for me to have a bit of proper fun."

Take my boredom out on the poor kid. I can't exactly say what form this takes, so I'll leave it up to you and the dice - some form of physical/psychological torture.