Rolled 7, 2, 17, 16, 17 = 59 (5d20)
>>5194841Once the two of you are presentable, you exit the room and find yourself face-to-face with two stoic-looking male humans, large and imposing if not especially bright-in-the-eyes. Labourers, perhaps. Behind them, The Incubus occupies the same shell as the previous day.
“Are you ready?” it asks.
“Yesss,” you answer, reverting to the local human dialect, “but the ssscroll-case sstayss with me, until we arrive and assessss the otherss.”
The Incubus grins. “I assumed you already would have! You have the Head Chimericist’s eyes and ears, after all, don’t you?”
You say nothing. Did the greater demon sense as much, or learn it by other means?
“Perhaps you were… Otherwise occupied last night?”
‘Fuck,’ Irinnile curses. ‘How much does it know?’
“Nothing happened!” Roth snaps, clearly taking the remark another way.
The Incubus just smiles wider, saying nothing more on the subject. Instead, it says “I agree to your terms. Why shouldn’t I? After all, I made you a promise to…”
Here, the demon changes tone and timbre, eerily replicating your own voice.
“…ceasse my liesss, and misssrepresentationss, never again decceiving you in any way, shape, or form while our alliancce holdss.”
You nod.
“Does our alliance hold?” The Incubus asks solicitously, seemingly calm.
“Of courssse,” you say.
“Good!” The Incubus says, clapping its hosts hands. “Then let’s be on our way.”
The Incubus seems to have acquired itself a carriage—not so nice as that owned by the Engelson Storehouse Company, and drawn by a mule, but it beats walking. Admittedly, however, it is quite crowded once the two burly human bruisers are loaded in the back with your and Roth—himself a fairly large male.
‘Eh, I’ve had bigger,’ Irinnile quips.
“It looks a little cozy in there,” The Incubus notes.
The demon holds out an arm, and a corvid descends from on-high, lighting upon it obediently.
“I’ll find my own way there,” says The Incubus, stroking the bird’s plumage.
