A/N (no really read this before proceeding): This story was a description of what my character was doing in a Pathfinder campaign a year or two ago. Unfortunately, this means that it's full of in-references so I'll try to give the necessary background here as quickly as possible.
The gameworld is split into seven nations each run by a divine version of some mythical beast. The mythical beasts are the generally worshiped gods, but the standard book gods exist, or did exist and well it's complicated but not all that relevant.
The protagonist is my character: Shard/Cog a level 14 (plus a really weird ECL) Chaotic/Lawful Good Boggle Master Chymist (hence the whole Jekyll/Hyde thing). He grew up in the Troll Nation, which is known for its massive mad-science powered war machine. Particularly, they have this highly addictive super-soldier potion called bane. Anyway, Cog, (the name he was born with rather than the alternate personality that cropped up later) was an apprentice in one of the alchemical labs. Eventually though he fell in love with one of the test subjects (read: POWs/torture victims) name Lissa. This leads Cog to realizing how really terrible the whole project is and eventually he turns traitor and rescues Lissa, but she falls into a coma and he sets off to find a cure.
The story is set in the capitol of the Dragon Nation, which is known for its magitech and its excessive bureaucracy. Also, the DM gave us some houseruled stuff including a box that blocks magic detection, a potion that turns you into a meteor and shoots you about a mile, and an ability my character had to call up a diamond skin armor thing.
OK. Hopefully that covers most of the plot relevant stuff. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: The characters are mine, but the setting is the DM's, and the Pathfinder system is Paizo's.
There I was. Sitting in the center of my despicably tidy room, as I crouch over my object of study, a vial of bane. I run my fingers over the container, as I recall the power and confidence that coursed through my veins during my last trial with it. My reminiscing is cut short as I realize that, without thinking, I had brought the vile stuff halfway to my mouth and was in the process of removing the cork. I angrily reseal the vial and return it to my cloak. Damnation this stuff is addictive.
My research into finding a way to counter this weapon had not been going well. That thrice damned block. "Cannot attempt to reveal information about the project to those not in the employ of Dr. Stormbrew". Well apparently despite sharing a body with me, The Bastard counts as someone else. Never knowing when he's going to crop up makes it almost impossible to take notes on this project, and working in my head only goes so far. On the other hand, since he can only steal my body for brief jaunts these days, the job of making a counteragent falls on my shoulders. I'm stuck solving this impossible problem under unreasonable constraints, while he gets to go research new extracts, craft more bloody equipment and do whatever else he's been up to. Bastard's been awfully secretive lately. I'm about to get back work, when I feel him start to take over. By the Seven…
As The Bastard does his thing, walking around in my feet, making use of my hands, I dream. I dreamed that I had finally recovered that water from the healing spring (or was it the stuff from the elemental valley?). I approach Lissa's unconscious form, finally ready to repair the damage I had once done. I take one last look at her distorted form as I gathered my courage, and them empty the vial into her mouth. Seconds pass with no response. Then her body begins to twitch. She screams and begins to mutate, not to her original halfling form, but into some new, twisted monstrosity. "YOU!" she yells at me. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?"
"I'm t-trying to help you," I stammer. "The manifestation, he- he said it would cure you."
"YOU ARE TOO LATE" She yells. Her skin rips open as crooked new limbs sprout from her sides. "THERE IS NOTHING LEFT IN ME TO CURE. YOU SHOULD HAVE USED THE SPRING WHEN YOU FIRST FOUND IT." Her eyes cut into me accusingly.
"But- the guardian, I—"
"EXCUSES!" She screams. "YOU HAVE FAILED. YOU POISON ALL THAT YOU TOUCH. NOW I AM NAUGHT BUT A MONSTER. AS ARE YOU."
My reply dies on my lips as I see visions of dreads rampaging through a town, slaughtering those they cross. I see sailors drowning as Balthezar's ship sinks beneath the waves. I see Nurell laughing, awake in the world once more. I look down at my own unnaturally pointed form and stare in horror as my skin flakes off to be replaced by pages covered in glowing ruins.
I awake in an alley with my heart thumping in my ears. Where did The Bastard leave me this time? I try to scan my mind to see if he left any memories of what he'd been up to, but come up short. Looks like this is another one of his nasty secrets. I try to figure out what to do next, and find my thoughts to be unreasonably sluggish. After brief contemplation and I realize the cause: My headband of intelligence is missing. A quick inventory reveals that my other equipment is similarly gone, replaced instead by a set of common workman's clothes. I feel some unusual alchemy lying dormant in the stomach and begin to panic. What in Hell's name has The Bastard been up to? It's then that I notice the note glued to my palm. I quickly detach and open it. The note reads:
"Shard,
I regret to leave you in such a position with so little forewarning, but it is necessary. All will be explained in time. For now, note that an unusual extract has been put into your system via delayed consumption. I beg you to not expend it until the time is right. Also note that extracts of invisibility and detect thoughts can be found in your left shirt pocket. I suggest that you take them now. No really, I mean it. Now.
-Cog"
I crumple the note, and reach into my pocket. Sure enough I find two small vials there. I quickly drain their contents and vanish from sight. I hear footsteps about the same time I can feel his thoughts approaching. A human male strolls by me down the alley, and I stand there in shock as I recognize him as my old mentor, Richard Stormbrew.
Blood and fire! Why in Hell's name is he in the Dragon Nation? Access to the library? Contact with the Mage's Guild? There's only one way to find out. He walks past without noticing me, so I begin to follow him. His thoughts are a jumble of unusual alchemic formulae, and I struggle to keep up with them. Eventually, he enters what appears to be an alchemist's shop. I feel my invisibility wearing off, so I duck behind a corner.
This is where he's set up shop. The Bastard's voice rings in my head. He would still recognize me, but I took the liberty of filling out an application for a janitor's position in your name. The interview is scheduled for a few minutes from now. I suggest that you start getting ready. I growl at The Bastard's insolence. I have no idea how he put those words in my head or what he thinks gives him the right to boss me around like this. I feel the part of my mind where his smug little personality lives and find it happily dormant. I look back at the shop door. I almost turn around and go home, but I need to know what Richard is up to. I take a deep breath and walk inside.
My eyes go wide as I walk in. This has to be one of the best equipped alchemical supply shops in town. Manticore teeth, mummy tape, hellcat blood, they seem to have just about everything. My blood goes cold as I notice the cyclops owls watching the door. Good thing I'm not wearing any of my magical items, or they'd be hooting about it. As I get past them and start to make my way to the information desk, The Bastard's voice makes a reappearance. There's a box in your right pants pocket. Inside is a potion of glibness. Take it. I expect you'll need it. His mysterious act is really starting to piss me off at this point, but I check the pocket and sure enough I find a box. It's not just any box though. Closer inspection reveals it to be the box that once carried Cartez's amulet. I guess that's one way to get things past the owls. I open the box to find my bag of holding and, in fact, a potion of glibness. I check to ensure that nobody is looking, and consume the potion. I consider recovering my inventory from the bag, but think better of it. I'm applying to be a janitor after all, not an adventurer.
I make my way to the main desk, climb the steps for us little people, and end up face to face with the human woman keeping shop. "Uh, I'm here for the janitor position," I say lamely.
She takes a long look at me, and shrugs. "In the back room." She points. "Talk to Dr. Stormbrew."
I swallow hard as I push my way through the door to come face to face with my old mentor. It's been over a year since I ran away, but his angular face still haunts my dreams from time to time. I nearly back out then and there. This is the brilliant Richard Stormbrew, how can I possibly hope to outwit him? "I'm here for the janitor position" I say. I feel his gaze upon me and am incredibly glad that The Bastard and I look nothing alike.
"Papers?" He asks, holding out his hand.
"Uh, I—" Left pocket. Don't worry they're completely legitimate. This place gives separate identity papers to registered alternate personalities. "Sure," I finish, fishing the papers out of my pocket and handing them over, suddenly very worried that I'm officially registered as an "alternate personality".
He takes the papers and begins to examine them. "It says here you're a goblinoid?" He asks.
"Uh yeah. My mother was a goblin. My father…" I shrug. "I dunno. Probably a porcupine." I say, displaying some of my spikier regions.
He does not seem amused. "This job requires being able to clean things high up. You're a little short. Sure you're up for the task."
"Don't worry," I say. "I've done this sort of thing before. I can climb to reach just about anything. Don't worry, I'll be careful not to break anything."
He stares at me, considering. "Be sure that you don't. One more question, can you keep secrets?"
This is it, I guess. Time to see if that potion is all it's cracked up to be. "Look," I say, "whatever you're doing here is none of my business. I'm just here to clean and get paid."
"That's what I want to hear." He smiles. "Right this way, we just have some paperwork to fill out." He leads me to a small adjoining room with a desk. I do my best to hide my immense relief as I follow him.
"First off, this is a standard non-disclosure agreement." He passes the form over to me. I sign it without reading. It's not like I intend to obey it anyway. He nods. "Next, about our benefits packages, there are…"
387C. Trust me.
"Uh, I'll go with the 387C," I say.
Stormbrew gives me on odd look before moving to finish filling out the form. "Very well then, just sign here please." I comply quickly. "Welcome aboard," he says, putting forth his hand. "Ready to get started?"
I can't help but grin as I shake his hand "Yes. This means more to me than you know."
Thank the Seven. Well six of them anyway. I doubt the Troll would approve. In any case, you're in. That employment contract, and particularly, the pension plan, mean that we are both, technically speaking, in the employ of Dr. Stormbrew- even if he ends up firing you. As this gets around one of our recent problems, you should know that my notes on bane are stored under the third floorboard to the left of the door. Now…
I space out as The Bastard blabbers on. Something about a floor plans obtained from public records and maybe a library or something. In any case, Stormbrew has delved into some equally pointless speech about getting me oriented or some such. Whatever. It's not like I plan to make a career out of this. Eventually, I'm handed a mop and told to start cleaning.
Finally free of supervision, I begin to look around the back rooms. The results are depressingly mundane. Some offices. Some laboratories. A few well-equipped stock rooms. Nothing too useful unless my plan is to make off with expensive reagents. Eventually I find a door guarded by two brutes. The alchemically enhanced humanoids are twisted and hulking, their original race now next to impossible to determine. They stand there stoically, but are quick to turn me around when I try to pass through the doorway behind them. I figure that checking to see if this place is actually off limits to me is probably a bad idea, so I need another way in. I slowly mop the floors while considering my options.
As I make my way around the room, my eyes are drawn to the table in the middle of it. Did somebody just leave a pile of fire salts next to chopped imp weed? Heh. Looks like they did. Idiot. To be fair, when I "accidently" bump the table with my mop handle, the resulting explosion is not so much dangerous as it is loud and distracting. But noise and smoke are plenty to get the brutes' attention, poor dull bastards. In any case, they are completely oblivious to my movements as I make my way past them.
Finally, I'm getting somewhere. I decide that it's time to drop the mop and start sticking to the shadows. I've gotta work quickly before they figure out what's going on. I make my way down a hallway and freeze in my tracks as I hear screams coming from one of the side rooms. I slide over to the door and draw it open just enough to peak through. What's inside is enough to bring back bad memories.
There she lies, strapped to a table. She was probably once a goblin, but it's hard to tell with all the burns and scars and growths about her. The feeding tubes are attached to some bubbling fluids. One of the lab workers begins to cut her open so that her innards may be better examined. The rest take notes as she screams.
I feel the anger building within me. If they continue, she'll have but hours to live, and if she does, she may well end up in a coma. Like Lissa did. I've caused enough horrors in my past. It was long past time to do something and stop this one. I prepare to open the door and charge in. I have no plan. I just want to stop it. My hand is on the door ready, ready to yank it open, but instead I pause. I am trying to bring down the whole Troll Nation weapons program. If I get caught saving this one person, thousands more could suffer because of my failure. That Bastard Cog would do it anyway. He finds nobility in that kind of futile act. With that thought I calm myself, close the door, and continue onward.
It's not long before I find a more promising room. This one has "Richard Stormbrew" written on the door in large golden letters. It's locked, but not well, and my picks make quick work of it. Inside is a desk stacked with papers. I greedily paw through them. Ingredients for bane, theories on improvements, inventories, case files, specifications, everything is there. In a dash to find the most useful information as quickly as possible, a string of numbers catch my eye. One that is burned into my memory. Case file #113-095. Lissa's case file. Here were the answers that I needed.
And of course The Bastard noticed too. I could feel his mind waking within me, trying to wrest control away.
"No" I scream. "I found it first. You are not taking this from me."
WHO FOUND THIS PLACE THEN? LET ME OUT! The words fill my head as we struggle for control.
"Leave me alone Bastard." I scream, shoving him back into place.
WE HAVE THE SAME PARENTS, YOU IDIOT, he replies before finally subsiding.
Back in control, I take a deep breath to center myself, but am startled by a voice coming from behind me. "You know, for a spy, you could stand to be quieter". I quickly slip Lissa's file under my shirt and turn around to find Stormbrew, flanked by a couple of brutes in the doorway. The brutes descend upon me, and before I can respond, I am lifted in the air with my arms pinned behind me. Their grip is like iron, and I struggle, but to no avail. "Throw him below." Stormbrew says, and they begin to carry me down the hall.
OK. Things look pretty bad for me at this point. I have none of my equipment, none of my extracts, potions, or bombs. I can't move my arms or run away. I can bring The Bastard back for all the good it will do. I can turn on my diamond skin, and again nobody cares. I could use this mysterious delayed consumption potion. He did tell me not to…but hell. Screw that jackass.
I release the energy dormant in my stomach, and suddenly the clothes I'm wearing are swapped out for my real equipment. It's all there: boots, belt, cloak, armor, ring, headband (thank heaven I can think again), and most importantly my latest addition. My new "hat" is a device of my own invention. Inside is a small pouch of liquid connected to straws leading towards my mouth. A hands-free beverage delivery service. Which is useful given that I have no free hands at the moment. My guards stand there puzzled by the sudden change, while I bite down on the straws and suck them dry.
My skin tingles as the freedom of movement extract fills my body, and I slip easily out of my captors' grip. Unfortunately, they each get a good swing at me as I try to get away. Damn those guys hit hard. Take the delayed potion. Now! "A bit late, you little shit!" I yell as the two come charging after me. I need time to think. Time to boost my defenses. Time to get away. I reach into my cloak and down an accelerate extract…and suddenly the specter of some old goblin is telling me that the best way to deal with tall people is to stab them in the knees. Blood and fire! I will never understand that Bastard's organizational scheme. I was looking for accelerate and got ancestral memory. In any case, while my great grandpa spouts his useless advice, the brutes arrive to pummel me. I take a nasty blow to the head, and a kick to the ribs, the latter cracking open one of my potion vials. Before they can do any more damage though, I throw a stink bomb into one of their faces. He screams as the fireball engulfs his head, and I use the cover of the green cloud that follows it to make my getaway. Then I'm off down the hallway as the brutes stand there retching and my ancestor congratulates me on a job well done.
Rooms blur by me as I make my escape. My mind is trying to recall how The Bastard's extract organization works so that I can manage some decent defense. Slip into a side room, and manage to find stoneskin, barkskin, heroism, healing potion, and what the hell, shield, spell resistance, and anticipate peril to boot. The mass of potions leave a nasty aftertaste in my mouth, but at least I'm ready for when the brutes find me.
I finally have a chance to catch my breath and take stock of my surroundings. My jaw drops as I survey the room around me. This room is filled with by far the most complex alchemical apparatus that I've ever seen. Reagents are fed in from a dozen different points, mixing and heating and cooling and separating are performed by a hundred automated gadgets. Waste products slosh onto drains on the floor. And the final product is produced one drop at a time. Dripping into the clear tank in the middle of the room. A tank full of bane.
My eyes go wide. I stand transfixed. The contents of that tank must be worth millions at the very least. I can almost feel the power radiating from the liquid within. I find myself drawn to it, unable to resist its call. I stand there salivating, head pressed against the glass. Things would probably have gone poorly if a danger signal picked up by my heightened senses hadn't caused me to spin around to find doctor Stormbrew standing by the door, bomb in his hand, grinning at me.
"Step away from the tank and I'll let you die quickly," he says. Crud! Taking stock of the situation: I'm in enemy territory, cornered by a superior adversary, one who wasn't just beaten half to death, one who doesn't have to deal with an alter ego's messed up filing system. And what have I to defend myself with? My standard gear, a few defensive spells, my wits…and that potion of glibness.
"You've got me all wrong" I say. "Internal security. Looks like I botched my under cover spot check of your lab, but hey, at least I can't say anything bad about your security."
"Why should I believe you?" He asks, eyes narrowing.
"What? Besides the fact that I know you're Richard Stormbrew of the Troll Nation, former director of the seventh lab, and a founding member of the bane project?"
My heart beats heavily in my chest as he considers my words. "I'd like to see some documentation." He says.
"I think it got lost somewhere in the fight with your goons."
"Then why don't we just wait here until they recover it?" he says, his lips curling into a wicked grin.
"Wait" I say, starting to panic, "I think I have a backup over here." I begin to approach him, pulling some random scrap paper from my pockets and slipping in a couple of bombs behind it. He walks forward to accept my offer, and BAM! The force bomb knocks him to the ground and the tanglefoot bomb leaves him glued to the floor. I laugh as I see my mentor stuck on his back, struggling to escape.
My victory is short lived as I am hit almost immediately by a blinding flash of light and fire. As I struggle to regain control of myself and clear my vision, The Bastard surges up from the back of my consciousness. I feel my body begin to twist itself into a new shape as he wrests control of it from me, and I feel my mind retreating into blackness.
I awake to pain and darkness. I feel the throbbing in my face and side and wonder what mess Shard has gotten me into. Crucial seconds are wasted in an attempt to discern my surroundings, but are thwarted by my apparent blindness. My thoughts are soon interrupted by a deep chuckle. A shiver races down my spine. I would know that laugh anywhere.
"Well, well, well, it looks like the traitor has returned." Stormbrew's voice seems to be coming from all around me. "I'm going to enjoy watching you suffer."
"You left me no choice." I reply, "One does not treat one's fellow beings as you did."
"Enough with your righteousness. You were in as deep as I. Were it not for the girl, you still would be."
The words sting as badly as my wounds, not the least because of their truth. Enraged, I strike out futilely at the darkness in front of me.
Stormbrew laughs at my wasted effort. "You want to know the sad part of it all though? We have her again." I stand there, shocked, as he continues, "What? Did you really think that the Mermaid Nation was safe? From us? Given the state of the war?"
I search desperately for a reply. Something to prove him wrong. Some way for her to be safe. But my search comes up dry. Stormbrew's voice comes as a snarl from behind my right ear "But that's enough stalling." The next thing I know, a flaming claw is ripping through my shoulder.
I scream as I feel my flesh catch fire. Another strike tears into my arm as I reach into my cloak for a bomb. I throw the bomb to the floor beneath me. I can feel the explosion rattling through my bones, and smell the thick smoke released by it. I roll to the ground and feel the air whip past as another attack misses my face by mere inches. The smoke stings my still useless eyes, but at least inside it we are on equal terms. The smoke and the ground seem to have put out most of the fires on me, but I can hear my adversary lumbering towards me. I draw speed from my boots as I make a blind dash away. Glass shards tear into my face as I crash through an unseen apparatus. I reach for my cloak, drawing out an extract of universal formula. It fizzes in my mouth as it changes into remove blindness.
My vision returns just in time to vault over a vat of what appears to boiling demon blood. I spare a fraction of a second to take in my surroundings: complicated alchemical apparatus, Richard in the form of a fire elemental, his twin form copy dazed on the floor, a flask on a collision course with my head. I duck just in time to avoid the bomb and feel the searing heat on my back as it explodes behind me.
I throw a frost bomb at Richard, hoping to delay him as I bolt for the door. Unfortunately, the effect, if any, is insufficient, for a barrage of bombs begins to fall upon me before I am half way there. I spin to return fire, and activate my diamond skin hoping to soak the damage. The crystal coating covers my body just as the first of the bombs collides with my chest. As the fire washes over me, I note the bomb's twin shattering in the clone's belt. I have no more time for observation. The room is wracked by alchemic energies as both our volleys explode.
My extra skin lies shattered, and the ringing in my ears is deafening. My head clears in time to see Stormbrew grinning at me. Other than a few scrapes, he appears to be largely unaffected by my recent attacks. A fiery hand reaches for his belt as he prepares another volley. I don't think that I can survive another wave, so, as the first bomb begins its arc towards me, I dash over to the twin and stomp on his bomb belt. Glass shatters beneath my boot and its twin in the air breaks with it. I am hit in the face by shards and stinging alchemic fluids, but not by the explosive power I had feared. My foot comes down again. The sound of breaking glass fills my ears as the spilt concoctions begin to smoke and sizzle. I stomp a third time, but by now my adversary has caught on to my tricks. With a snap of his fingers, the spell is dismissed and his clone crumbles to dust before I can do any more damage.
My foot lands in the alchemic glue. Were it not for my freedom of movement, this could have caused serious problems. From across the room, Stormbrew charges at me, hatred clearly showing in his flaming eyes. I take a bomb and launch it in a slow, underhand arc directly at the tank of bane in the middle of the room. He swerves to catch it, grabbing the flask just in time for it to explode, leaving glue binding his hands and face. I do not have time to wait for him to escape, so I flee out the door, downing an invisibility extract as I go.
The shop appears to be on high alert now. I dodge more brutes as I make my way through the hallways and find a corner to hole up in. It won't be long until they find me, but the invisibility has bought me enough time to collect myself. As I brush the broken glass off my face and arms, I struggle to piece together Shard's memories of the last half hour. What I desperately need is a plan. I would try to escape and go to the police, but the non-disclosure agreement that Shard signed would invalidate any testimony I bring. I need someone else. Like the captive. Wait. Stormbrew said to take Shard below. The floor plans didn't include a basement, but they did include what looked like the perfect place to hide a secret room – or staircase for that matter. My success will depend on being right on several counts, but I need to try.
The two extracts of cure light wounds taste like honey and restore me to a semblance of health. I quickly orient myself and proceed from memory to the necessary location. Expeditious retreat speeds my progress further. I hear a shout in front of me and stop just in time to see a squad of brutes blocking my path. It seems that some of them can see through my invisibility, so I consume burst of speed in order to get past them. I sprint towards my destination, as they turn and pursue me.
You should be approaching the secret records stash. My own voice echoes in my head. It appears that I was wrong on that count, or at least I hope I was. In any case, I arrive at what appears to be a dead end. My pursuers are closing in fast. I take an extract of detect secret doors and pray that it works in time. I note the door I am seeking almost immediately, but it costs me precious seconds to find the mechanism. A quick glance behind me reveals bulging head of the first brute as it rounds the corner. I was out of time. I stab my claws into the wall. The wood splinters beneath my hand. My fingers find the panel I seek. I force my shoulder against the wall for leverage as I pry the hidden door open. The first brute is upon me as I leap through the hole.
I tumble down the staircase, scrambling to stay ahead of my pursuers. A cyclops owl hoots a warning as I pass it at the bottom, or it does until I claw its eye out. The next room is crowded with apprentice alchemists, but three bombs fill it with enough poison gas to leave them quickly incapacitated. The door on the other side has smoke seeping out from under it. I worry about what might be on the other side, but I have little choice for the brutes will be here shortly. I take an anticipate peril and press on.
The room beyond is filled with smoke thick enough to block vision beyond a foot. I proceed rapidly through it, but my instincts kick in just in time to step out of the way before an enormous… something… slams down upon the space I occupied mere moments ago. I feel the hot breath of my assailant wash over my body. I begin to slowly and quietly draw myself away, but it lumbers after me, sniffing loudly as is moves. Ah, yes. It tracks by smell here. I consume my remaining universal formula for negate aroma.
On my next attempt I manage to successfully disengage. I make my way softly to the wall and proceed to feel around until I find the exit. Unfortunately, the door seems to be locked and heavily reinforced. I might be able to pick it, but given the noises starting to come from behind me and the fact that I can scarcely see, another plan is called for. I hear the beast plodding around behind me and suddenly I know what to do.
I step to the side as I uncork my extract of magic jar. I drink and feel a moment of disorientation as my spirit is sucked into the gem in my pocket. A sense of calm washes over me as I leave the cuts and bruises of my body behind. From the jar I can feel the life force of this beast. It is quite impressive. I am glad that I did not have to fight it directly, but it should be perfect for my purposes here. I fill with anticipation as I prepare to jump. I meet little resistance as my spirit takes over its lumbering body. I spend a few seconds acquainting myself with my new limbs (six legs and a tail). I revel in the raw strength of this form. It is not long before I have located the exit.
My new claws begin to tear at the door, but with little success. If the door was designed to keep this beast in, it's going to take more than simple brute force to get through. The shouts behind me are getting louder, but I ignore them to focus on the problem at hand. Scraping along the edge with one of my claws, I manage to find the hinges. Perfect. With a scrape, and tear, the first one's down. I can smell the brutes as they enter the room behind me, but keep going. The second hinge is taken care of, but the brutes have reached me and started to tear into my tail. I work through the pain, hoping that they won't find my real body in time. Finally, the last hinge is gone, and I tear the door from the wall. The brutes are swarming over me now. I roll over in an attempt to dislodge them and start to counter attack. I swipe two away, and then roar in pain as a sword hacks into one of my legs. I nearly lose myself in this beast's fury, but manage to check myself in time. I return to my body, leaving the monster to fight its own battles. The sounds of fighting ring in my ears as I slip out the door.
There I find the prison. Stone walls and iron bars ensnare a dozen prisoners, penned in with barely the space to sit down. A couple appear healthy. Most suffer from deformities. Something in the back of my mind begins to catalogue their injuries and attempts to extrapolate the experiments being performed upon them. They stare at me, clearly terrified. I simply smile. The battle rages behind me and there are no other clear exits. I am unconcerned. I consume one of my few remaining extracts, burrow, and get to work.
I tap into my boots of speed to save time, but digging through stone is never easy. Precious seconds have been wasted by the time I have dug under the bars and into the first cell. The beast behind me screams in pain by the time I have reached the others. The brutes arrive in the room as I start to dig towards the surface with the prisoners crowding behind me.
The streets are eerily empty as I break the surface. "Run" I tell the elf behind me. "Five blocks that way is a police station. Don't stop until you get there. Tell them everything." He is on his way before I finish. I look up to see that the side streets are blocked by more brutes. A pair of bombs clears the way for my new friends. Two smoke bombs provide cover. By this point, the rest have noticed me and begin to converge on my position. One bomb, two, and then they are on top of me.
I have never been outstanding at close fighting, but I can hold my own when it comes down to it. I slide past a pair of approaching brutes, my claws tearing into their thighs as I pass. A third, behind them catches me in the stomach with a vicious kick. I can almost feel his toes even through my armor. I grunt and double over. Motion catches my eye, and I pull my head to the side just in time for a fist to fly past it. I bite down on the exposed arm, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth. The arm's owner screams, pulling it back and me with it. I take the opportunity granted by this elevation to let go, leap onto his face and begin to claw at his eyes.
I hear a scream coming from behind me. I attempt to disengage, taking a few more scrapes on my way back to the tunnel. I arrive to find the goblin from before struggling to reach the surface. I grab her arm and begin to pull, but before I can bring her out, a flash of teeth in a reptilian mouth tear her in half. I stumble backwards suddenly covered in her warm blood.
"CAPTURE THE TRATIOR! DO NOT LET HIM ESCAPE!" Stormbrew's voice booms out of the gleaming draconic form that rises from the hole. I scuttle backwards to find myself surrounded by brutes on one side and my mentor, in dragon form, on the other. As they close in on me, I stare upwards at the blue sky above. I take alchemical allocation to preserve the valuable meteor potion that comes next. As I spit the potion back out, I see my enemies closing in, but I care not. I can already feel my limbs turning to fire. I suspect that my foes will be mightily surprised as I rocket into the sky.
I come to again a mile above the city. The clean, orderly streets laid out beneath me like a map. I just need an extract of fly in order to make good my escape. I reach into my cloak to take it, but am horrified to find that it is missing. Shattered more precisely. It must have been broken by that kick Shard took. I look down again and feel the wind begin pick up beneath me. No problem. I just need to make another fly extract before I land. I take an accelerate to speed up the process and get to work.
Step one: Mashed arrowvine. I pull the plant from my supplies. There is no time for mortar and pestle, so I throw it into my mouth and begin the chew. Step two: powdered gryph beak. I pull the beak from my bag. I can't do a proper job of pulverizing it, but do my best to crush it between my hands. It's only half ready, but the air is speeding past me, and I can begin to make out carts on the street below. OK. Step thr-
I see the dragon rising up below me. He opens his jaws and emits a jet of flame at me as we pass in mid air. The fire hits me head on. I nearly pass out from the pain as I feel the skin on my face burning away. Pain fights with terror and terror wins. I need to finish this before the fall turns me to mush.
Right. Step three: fire. Check. I throw the now signed beak-paste into my mouth followed by a vial of salt water. The ingredients taste like ash and rot, but I slosh them around in my mouth as fast I can manage, hoping that they combine in time. The ground below is frighteningly close. I see the brutes backing off from the spot they think I'll land. I pass below the level of the spires near city hall, as the ground rushes to meet me. I feel a jolt as the ingredients react. I swallow, and focus all my will on stopping my descent before I collide with the cobblestones.
I nearly succeed. The jarring sensation in my legs as I hit the ground turns out to be merely excruciatingly painful rather than simply deadly. Through a red haze I see the brutes lunging at me. I'll deal with broken bones later. Now I need to run.
I leap back into the air, my foot giving me final jolt of pain as I push off. I manage to slip between my assailants and begin my flight. I look up to find the dragon descending upon me. I down displacement in an attempt to make myself harder to catch, but then he is upon me. My attempts to outrun him fail. The dragon manages to keep pace with me snapping at my feet as he goes. I take a quick inventory of my options. Only a handful of extracts remain and but a single bomb. I have nothing sufficient to fight him with and cannot escape while he's in form of the dragon. I grin. I know what to do.
I veer sharply upwards and he follows me. I swerve and dodge, doing my best to stay away from him, but he manages to close his teeth around my foot. I scream and flail and somehow manage to shake myself free to continue the ascent. I feel what little blood have I left rushing to my feet and begin to wonder how much longer I can keep this up. 100 feet high. He's still gaining on me, nearly in position to use his claws. 150 feet. He lashes out with everything. Fortunately, it's against my double. I escape unharmed, regaining some distance. 200 feet. I ready two of my last extracts, but my vision is already starting to go black. 250 feet. Good enough. I swallow the true strike and heroic fortune and utter a quick prayer to any god willing to listen. I turn to see teeth and claws speeding towards my face. I mix in the catalyst and throw my final bomb at them.
A loud bang goes off as dispel magic does its work. The dragon's form changes back into that of Richard Stormbrew. A shocked look appears on his face as he begins to fall. I watch as he tumbles out of view and onto the ground below. I let out a sigh of relief and exhaustion, as I begin my own, much more measured, descent.
I find myself to be in no shape to check on the state of the lab personally, but I cannot resist sending an arcane eye to check things out for me. Dragon Nation police have flooded the premises. The brutes are being rounded up, and the supplies impounded. I know that there will be an extraordinary number of questions to answer and forms to fill out regarding my involvement with this incident. But I am too tired to deal with them now. I smiled as I stumble into my bed. "Let Shard deal with it" I think as I drift off to sleep. "He hates that kind of stuff."