>>5705514>>5705523>>5705527>>5705541>>5705595>>5705604>>5705605>>5705632>>5705727>>5705731>>5705741>Three goblins in a trenchcoat?The way this suit seems to shamble with unseemly abandon, plates interlocking and overlapping impossible anatomy, the strange, ungainly cadence and tone of voice–you’ve a sneaking suspicion that this devil isn’t quite what he claims. You begin slowly approaching the figure, easy on your step.
“What are you–” The baron begins his remand, but you pay him no heed. You just rest a single flat palm atop his plackart and gently shove him.
The illusion dissipates all at once–armor lurching back like a tree in the wind, sabatons grinding into the ground and gauntlets clawing at the air, the “baron” can’t quite maintain his precarious position at such a sudden onset force. “G-gah..!”
The claw slips from his forearm and a swathe of small green arms lunge out to pick back up at it. The gaps in the greaves, too, reveal bits of olive green flesh, and flashes of white eyes and yellow fangs catch your gaze through the canals in his cuirass. The helmet slips to face his reverse as more green arms shoot out to right it.
“You can’t be serious.” You struggle to stifle your laughter, a palm over your mouth.
The “demon baron” appears to be no more than an assemblage of goblins that have stuck themselves into an old set of armor–a few set to operate the arms and legs, a handful in the chestpiece for stability, and one at the top as the mouthpiece. BARON STREGA rights himself as his armor refits into place, but the damage is done to his image.
“...” The devil (or more accurately, the goblins) eye you up silently.
>Grab the wands and leave this fraud behind. Gotta find your master.>Try to cut a deal with the goblins. Maybe you can convince (strongarm) them into leading you out to find your party.>Maybe try to reappropriate the armor for yourself? Though, you don’t think it’ll fit you.>Cast a spell on him. No playing around with goblins.>Write-In. 