This particular station is attended: a large cloaked figure leans back against the entry, watching as Nicora approaches. "About time you showed up," the figure grumbles, the harsh voice sounding familiar. But would a Yodhblakat be involved with Gorphat?
"The only time I keep to is my own, thank you," Nicora remarks rather dryly to the Yodhblakat. She doesn't particularly want to be here, since it is the last one; and what happens after that is unknown, but likely unpleasant. "Why are you here?"
"Because I was asked to be here," the Yodhblakat claims. "Apparently we're supposed to be part of this thing, and tradition is tradition. Also there aren't any Yodhgorphat to do it."
"Or you're just looking forward to trying to hurt me," Nicora points out, then rolls her shoulders. "So, what now?"
"Come inside," the bigger woman says, and then enters the shrine.
"At least she has a nice butt," Nicora thinks as she follows after the Yodhblakat. They get exercise, after all!
The first chamber of the Station is carved out of the mountain stone. The Yodhblakat has lit a lamp, which illuminates a narrow passageway, a pool of silvery liquid.. and a large basket. "Clothes, jewelry.. anything that can come off, it goes into the basket," the rough woman states. "And your 'magic dagger' too, if you have it. You aren't to use any special abilities or magic for this trial, since it's about Strength of Will."
"You don't intend to run off with it, do you?" Nicora asks as she distobes first, then has to go about removing her copious jewelry. It's a workout putting on or taking off this stuff anymore. The last thing that will go in the basket is the dagger, of course.
"If you make it through this, you'll be a Yodh, so.. no," the woman says, sounding disappointed.
"Oh, I'll make it through," Nicora insists as she drops the dagger into the basket, leaving her completely naked. That feels quite strange these days. Nothing dangling; well save her tail.
Once Nicora is left with nothing but her fur, the Yodhblakat points to the pool. "I hope you can swim. You need dive under that pool. There'll be an opening to the next chamber, and you need to find it and go through it - it's not far. Don't open your eyes in the water, don't breath any of it in. I'll see you on the other side. I get to use the passage. Any questions?"
"What is in that pool?" Nicora asks.
The Yodh looks. "It's not water," she admits. "I doubt there's anything alive in it either." She takes a cautious whiff, then covers her nose. "Ack, smells like piss."
"How delightful. And I have to swim through it? Blind?" Nicora asks, then shakes her head. "Very well." She approaches the edge and folds her wings in. There are several deep breaths in preparation, then she closes her eyes again. Another deep breath, then she dives in! At leas sound travels well under water; should be able echolocate the passage...
The pool is deep but narrow and curved like a drain. It's easy to find her way by touch, since the tube is too narrow to get turned around in. But it feels like swimming through milk or something of similar density, and it's making her ears start to burn and skin crawl. But in less than a minute, Nicora is breaching the surface in another chamber, but feels like she's covered in goo.
"I'm just here to hold the lantern right now," the Yodhblakat notes. "I'm not going to help you out or anything."
Nicora crawls herself out of the pool before she finally takes a gasping breath after that long swim. Her eyes also remain closed until she's all the way out and feeling oddly ... drippy. First thing she does is wipe at her eyes so they're clear of the goo and she can actually open them. She feels ... funny. Off. Something about her body feels completely wrong.
As Nicora pulls herself out of the pool, the goo starts to slide off.. leaving bare black skin behind. Her fur and hair seem to have been liquefied.. or gooified at least. It puddles at her feet.
"That is nasty," the guide notes, shaking her head. "It is definitely not attractive."
Nicora feels over her head, shocked to just feel scalp. She's with even less hair than Snowcora! The feeling is ... disturbing. Cold and sensitive. "I'm bald," Nicora cmplains loudly. "Do you have a mirror?"
"You don't need one, take my word for it," the Yodhblakat says. "Now, I'm supposed to offer you an out right now. You can still turn back, accept whatever curse will befall you - or you can push on."
"So, you're telling me I'm now seriously ugly?" Nicora asks as she feels over her oddly bare face. She then shakes her head. "No, I've gone this far and I'm now hideous; I may as well continue."
"You're disturbing.. you don't look like an Eeee and.. that tail is even more disgusting when you're all furless," the Yodh notes. "Okay, follow me to the next chamber then," she says, and shudders a bit before turning away to go through the next passage.
"It feels rather disturbing too," Nicora admits. While she could grow her hair back; she fears offending Gorphat ... so for the time being she's going to be completely denuded and hideous.
The next chamber is bare rock, just like the others so far. It's a little larger as well, but other than a single flat-topped rock 'stool' in the center and a passage leading further, it's empty.
"Do I sit there?" Nicora asks as she approaches the stool. Boy is she cold like this.
"You're a real genius aren't you?" the Yodh notes. "Of course you sit there."
"Well, it could be that you sit here and I cast curses on you," Nicora points out as she sets her bare butt down on the stool. Eeep! Cold.
The Yodhblakat begins to circle Nicora, the lamp making her shadow orbit the room. "You are the most pitiful creature I have ever laid eyes on," the warrior notes.. and spits on Nicora, hitting her right on the forehead. "And don't you wipe that off! You're no better than a follower of the Goddess of worms and feces. The Yodhgorphat are the most hated creatures in Babel and beyond. The other Sisters are feared, or respected.. but the Yodhgorphat instill disgust."
Part of this actually doesn't upset Nicora that much; as a Gypsy, she had her fair share of ridicule from townsfolk; and as a vampire, even more. She doesn't move to wipe the spit off, she instead just watches the Yodhblakat and arches her brow. Then she smiles.
"Oh, is that pride?" the burly woman asks when Nicora smiles. "Do you enjoy spreading weakness then? Robbing people of their strength, because you don't have it yourself? Tell me why you follow this path? Why do you aspire to the cesspit?"
Nicora's head tilts. "Because it must be done. This city is dying from the inside out and someone must purge it. I don't seek thanks for doing it; it is a sacrifice made for others," she answers simply. "It is a path I chose, not one forced upon me like many Yodh."
"Oh, all praise the Holy Enema!" the Yodhblakat says, raising her hands to the ceiling. "Babel belongs to the strong! When the soldiers of Rephidim came, only the Yodhblakat put up a real fight! I'm here today because for every one of us they took down, they paid with three of their own. We weren't dependent on our High Priestess and other leaders. If Babel falls, the Yodhblakat will still be here. The Yodhgorphat don't deserve to survive!" This last part is yelled right into Nicora's face.
Nicora's eyes narrow, and she continues to smile. "And yet we do. What you see as weakness I see as strength," she says simply. "I can walk in places others cannot. I can bear what others cannot. And I can teach others how to survive in the worst situations as well; and make them strong enough to. I can survive plague. Can you?"
"I can survive anything, because I'm strong," the Yodhblakat claims. "Even a plague of hope, the very worst disease. But even if you can survive where others cannot, what good is it? You are alone. If you fall in battle, or are injured or are not quite pious enough to be unaffected by disease - who will offer you a hand up? Nobody helps a Yodhgorphat."
"Not true. Gorphat does," Nicora points out. "We do not need any other help. And if we do fall, it is our own fault for faltering in faith."
"Let's test that," the Yodhblakat says, grinning now as she removes her cloak. She's wearing mismatched and salvaged leather and chitin armor, and also a belt with several knives. "Proclaim your love for Gorphat," she asks almost sweetly.
Nicora remains seated, still. Her eyes flick to the knives, and wonders what they are for. She has some bad ideas, but she's hopefully wrong. "With a knife?" she asks equally sweetly? "Or through word on my devotion to my Mother?"
"You've got your voice, and not much else," the Yodh says, and loudly cracks her knuckles. "I suggest you use that."
Nicora then smiles again. "How could I not love my Mother, Gorphat? She passed me through rebirth. She taught me to see the suffering in others. She taught me to feel it and understand; when I bore a clutch of horribs within me. She taught me that as long as I had faith in Her, I would survive; and I did," the denuded Eeee answers. "She has taught me how to purge this city of the sickness spreading through it. Gorphat is my Mother, my Lover, and my Life," she says.
If Nicora saw the blow coming, she doesn't remember it. One moment she is on the stool, and the next she is on her back, staring at the ceiling through dark spots in her vision. The left side of her face is a throbbing knot of pain. "They throw stones in the villages," the Yodhblakat notes. "Sometimes they burn you alive, to make sure your diseases die with you."
Nicora winces, but she slowly sits herself up and climbs back on the stool. She's been in fights before. She's fought in bars. It isn't the first time she has been sucker punched. "And that matters? What matters is I do my duty and I make others stronger," she insists; resisting the urge to rub the side of her face.
"Is your duty and faith strong enough to keep you from defending yourself?" the Yodh asks. "Can you surrender yourself to it?"
"Yes," Nicora answers simply. "You can change the world by showing faith; willingness to hold true to matter the threats. And by holding true, you instill faith in others."
As a test, Nicora feels the Yodh's claws rake across her breasts - nearly coming close to ripping off a nipple! The stinging scratches bleed. "Still believe that?" the brutish Eeee priestess asks afterwards.
The pain causes the Eeee to hiss and grip her stool. Another couple breaths and Nicora lifts her hand and runs a finger on the scratch, collecting the blood. She licks the blood off slowly as she eyes the Yodhgorphat. "Yes," she answers.
The Yodh growls, and says, "Normally, I would rather kill you than make this.. offer. But Blakat has told me that I must. So, I am going to give you power. Power over me. And that power is a word: Stop. Say it, and I will stop, and this trial will be over and we can both leave. Otherwise, it will be up to me to judge when to stop. Do you understand?"
"I understand and accept," Nicora says. One thing she feels comfort in; she can punish Blakat later!
"Very well," the Yodhblakat notes.. and the pummeling begins. The blows are not random; each is meant to debilitate. Kidneys, breasts, genitals - the bruising is meant to be more painful than the blows. She keeps it up until Nicora can barely stay on her hands and knees, her vision clouded by blood and her face cut and bruised.
Nicora ... has been through some of this before. The time Dack's guard attacked her in the first journey. The time she was drugged, beaten, and sold into slavery. The times she felt the pain Autumn-Storm felt. Even the time she felt the city's dead scream. The stool is long forgotten, and it's remaining on hands and knees as much as she can. the only sounds are huffs of air, hisses, and grunts. She isn't going to give this Yodhblakat any satisfaction bby asking her to stop. Instead she just focuses inward, stillness of mind; and rides out the agony. She can make it.
"My disgust is nearly at its peak," the Yodhblakat says, pausing in the beating. "Can you crawl? That's all that's needed of you next."
And Nicora answers this by taking a breath ... and crawling her battered and stripped bare body.
"Follow the light, if you can make that much out," the Yodh says, and then picks up the lantern and heads for the next chamber.
Everything hurts. It's like having a full-body hangover as she crawls slowly and painfully after the light and to the next chamber. "This is by far the worst physically," she thinks.
The next chamber is smaller than the others, barely large enough for two Eeee to stand up. It's actually more of an alcove in the side of the passage. There's a hole at floor level in one wall of the alcove. "I have to tie this rope to your foot," the Yodhblakat explains. "You have to crawl through the tube to the next part, and the rope is to pull out your corpse if you die in there." She sets the lamp down on the floor near the tunnel, lighting up the interior. It's lined with sharp crystal growths, like a geode in tube form. It's also not straight, but curves so that Nicora can't see how long it is.
"I'm going to be cut up in there," Nicora realizes when she looks through the tunnel. Inwardly, she winces at this; but what can she do? It's press onward or die. She's gone this far. So, she pulls her wings in close to her back and waits for the rope; then will begin the painful crawl.
The rope at least is light - airship cord, made from zolk. Less likely to be frayed by sharp edges. "Any last words?" the Yodhblakat asks. "Ready to quit?"
"See you on the other side," Nicora rasps; then heads into the tunnel on her hands and knees. If nothing else, a Yodhblakat is actually motivating; she doesn't want that Eeee to have satisfaction.
The tunnel starts out tall enough to spare her wings, but soon it varies and Nicora has to decides on whether to expose her back or underside to the sharp crystals. By the first turn, her hands are knees are already bleeding freely.
Nicora ends up picking her underside, out of fear for her wings. "Ow, ow," is all she thinks. She has to wonder why she did this; or if any curse could have been worse than this.
The tunnel seems to go on forever, but that could just be from the slow progress of dragging herself through it. The pain is spread out enough that no one area dominates, but the blood loss is getting to her, since she's sure there's no way for Phlagaea to be here in the tunnel, talking to her. "See, this is why the Yodh start out young," the Blessed One tells her. "Adults are a really tight fit in here. But hey, I did it, and I was like.. eight.."
"And I'm twenty-eight," Nicora thinks grimly as she crawls, and crawls. You really have to focus inward in this, and try to block out the pain by other thoughts and distractions. She even tries to imagine this as the agony Mordecai put her through.
Finally, there's light ahead. The tunnels ends in another stone chamber, where the lantern and Yodhblakat are waiting. And the Yodh is apparently having a lunch break, noisily drinking from a canteen and chewing on something crunchy.
"I told you I would see you on the other side," rasps Nicora as she drags herself out of the tunnel, then collapses into a bloody, furless, heap.
"I assumed you meant the other side of Death," the Yodh admits, and seems in no hurry to finish her bug sandwich. "Rest up," she says, and then points to the far side of the chamber, where there is another pool waiting. This time it's bubbling like a cauldron. "More swimming. You can untie the rope yourself too.. I don't want to get blood all over my hands down here."
Nicora does rest for a bit until the ache lessens a little. Maybe it's just the blood loss that makes it hurt less, but eventually she unies thw rope from her leg, then crawls to the pool. She doesn't ask what is in it this time; this time she just sort of slides into the pool and under the surface to find the passage through.
The liquid must be some sort of diluted acid from the feel of it. It burns what unscathed skin Nicora has left, but her cuts and bruises and other wounds scream as if being doused with liquid salt. There's no holding in her breath with this pain, and it feels as if she's leaving her skin behind whenever she touches the sides of the tube. But the other side is reachable, and unfortunately the air burns even more against her wet skin.
When Nicora erupts from the other side; this time her voice is a scream. It's laced, saturated, with pain, as she drags herself out of the pool and collapses on the floor to wait out the searing agony that wracks her body. It's also when she sees her bone-white and blotchy skin. She must look horrible now. Part of her wishes she could see her face.
A cloth is pressed against Nicora's head, and.. it feels soothing. "Try not to move," a soft, familiar voice says, along with a clinking of chain. Gephesa begins to wash and bandage the battered Eeee.
Nicora is grateful for the soothing cloth, and even the bandages to come. "Thank you," she murmurs weakly from where she lies.
"Normally this would be done by the High Priestess," Gephesa explains. "It wouldn't be right to let a Yodhblakat do it. Nor could Gorphat do this. So, you get me instead. I hope you don't mind?"
"Of course not. I hope you don't mind how horrible I look," Nicora remarks, and even manages a small, weak, smile. It's a chance to rest, and Gephesa's hands are soothing and gentle.
"You look brave," the once-upon-a-time goddess claims. "Your wounds will heal though. I thought you found this look attractive in others?"
"I do," Nicora admits. "It is weird being so completely bald like this; but I will get used to it. If the fur never regrows, so be it."
"You've met other Yodhgorphat," Gephesa points out. "You know the fur grows back. Eventually." As the goddess wraps Nicora's arms, she says, "So, do you see now why the bandages are a badge of passage?"
"To cover the body until it recovers, yes," Nicora admits. "No hiding what this body is now."
Gephesa even wraps up Nicora's tail. The bandages don't completely cover her, but do cover all of the actual wounds. They're marked by the staining of the gauze. "Do you think you'll be able to stand and walk?" she asks.
"In a minute more or so, yes," Nicora says. True to her word, after another minute or so, the Eeee struggles to stand, groaning and hissing the entire time. Even once she is back on wobbly feet, she can't help but hiss as pans flare up here and there.
At least she's clothed again, sort of. Gephesa helps steady the woman, then says, "It's not much further now, just follow me."
Nicora nods ad this and follows after the former Goddess; though her gait is wobbly and pained.
There's another passage, and then a wider chamber. This one has had some effort done to smooth out the rough edges - it nearly looks like the Temple of Gorphat; at least, the areas inside the mountain. There are even glowing lichens and mushrooms to provide light. There's a better looking passage at the far end, some stone benches around the circumference and a small, backless stone throne near the center.
Gephesa walks to the throne, then turns and sits - transforming into Gorphat by the time her rump touches the stone.
Even though her neck hurts when she looks around, she looks anyway. Her walk towards the thrown is slow and pained; she even stumbles here and there. Once she reaches it, she lowers down to kneel before Gorphat; though her kneel is awkward and causes more pain when pressure returns to her torn knees. "Mother," the hideous Eeee murmurs and bows her bandaged, bald, head.
"You've proven yourself, Daughter," Gorphat says. "Are you ready to take the final step, leaving the Path of Affliction and becoming my Yodh?"
Nicora actually reaches out, takes Gorphat's hand, then takes it to her lips and kisses it. "Yes, Mother," she murmurs, "I desire to be your Daughter true."
With milky eyes, Gorphat watches Nicora, and then asks, "And more than that, are you prepared to become my Champion?"
Nicora lifts Gorphat's hand, palm up, and kisses it, then places it on her cheek. "I am," she says. Inside, she's terrified; but the path is complete, and she must move forward; even if it means she must become a monster.
Gorphat smiles (drooling a bit out of the corner of her mouth), and stands. "Rise up," she commands, "And receive your name as a Yodhgorphat."
Nicora rises on wobbly legs. She takes several deep breaths, then even lets her eyes close as she awaits her final anointment.
The Goddess of Affliction gives Nicora a gooey kiss on her bandaged forehead, and whispers, "Henceforth, while in My service, you shall be known as Yodhgorphat Scourge." With the uttering of the name, Nicora can feel her flesh begin to cool and.. change.
Nicora inhales sharply when the name comes, along with the cooling. Part of her wants to keep her eyes closed throughout, but she cannot. They open ... and she lifts her bandaged hands to look at them.
The skin is turning black again - but not the black of Eeee skin. Fingers are thickening, becoming webbed. Everything is thickening! But at least the bandages aren't falling off, and there's no ache of shifting organs and bones. Her tongue swells, filling her mouth before it too shifts and becomes larger. Ears are replaced by.. tendrils? A frill of tentacles sprouts like hair from her head, her tail becomes massive and.. something happens to it. It's not clear what, but it feels odd. Within a few minutes, Nicora has become a bandaged, black.. dragony thing.. with glowing green markings.
"So beautiful," Gorphat says, picking up Nicora's altered chin and rubbing her cheek against the toothless mouth.
Nicora can only stand there and shudder and changes flow rapidly through this body; removing any vestiges of Eeee and becoming quite alien. Everything feels somehow wrong. "No teeth?" a hollow, reedy, voice comes from her through when she speaks; sounding shocked; not to mention how strange it feels to be without teeth. She flexes her awkward, thicker, webbed, hands and then tries to look over her body; checking her chest, her gender, and soon ... her tail.
Everything is smooth and seamless, with no indications of gender (or even of, say, having bowels). The tail has become thick, long and grooved along the final half... and doesn't feel right. As if there's something Scourge hasn't quite figured out yet. The same could go for its tongue.
"You don't need teeth," Gorphat coos. "You are the extension of my power into a realm that I thought barred to me: the mind. Or more precisely, diseases of the mind. Your sustenance, beautiful Scourge, is madness."
Yodhgorphat Scourge sticks her? Its? tongue out, trying to get a look at it; or worst case, feel it. It also tries to bring its tail around to examine that odd tail. She looks at Gorphat, wide-eyed. Or at least it thinks wide-eyed since it cannot actually tell what its eyes look like.
The tongue.. just keeps coming. It's at least three feet long! And like the tail, it has strange grooves and feels strange when it moves.
The tongue ... nearly freaks Scourge out! She keeps staring at the massive length; and amazed it can talk at all. The grooves continue to get inspected by stubby fingers, trying to figure out just what they are. She even gives Gorphat a questioning look, then points at her disturbing tongue.
There are other odd things becoming apparent as well. The room seems brighter.. or at least the glowing fungi do. The tendrils trailing behind Scourge's head tingle with an unfamiliar sense.
"Ah, well.. I imagine you use your tongue for feeding, of course," Gorphat notes, grinning. "You should try that."
Scourge actually tries to see how far that tongue extends. And as new senses seem to 'kick in', a ripple rolls through its body. It again looks at Gorphat, unsure of what it can feed on here.
And then a disturbing thought comes to Scourge, as well as a singling feeling in its stomach of a sort. It focuses ... and tries to see if the grooved ends of its tail and tongue can be spread apart.
The tendrils writhe and.. taste the air? No, it's not quite that. It's more like one of Snowcora's auras.. and a bit like kenning.. For some reason, the word sussing comes to mind. And Scourge can see-taste the Yodhblakat. Orangy-red, with sparks of blue and white. She's still in the previous chamber, and for this sense the stone wall may as well not be there. There's no connecting passage, after all: only the acid pool.
With a bit of effort the grooves of Scourge's tail split open, turning the end of it into four independent tentacles, each a yard long.
Scourge goes wide-eyed at the split tail. It brings it up to see if there is a mouth in the middle of those tentacles. And worse, It also continues to see if its tongue also spreads...
The tail-tentacles are smooth and muscular, with no breaks in the skin. Getting the tongue to split reveals something different. For tentacles, about eight inches long spread apart. They've got green-glowing suction cups on the inner surfaces and are triangular in cross section.
Scourge is actually afraid of itself right now! It looks to Gorphat, then nods towards the pool, and the chamber beyond where the Yodhblakat is.
"Hmm? Oh, she's still there? Tell me, for a Daughter of Conflict.. does she have any madness in her?" Gorphat asks.
Scourge tilts is head back towards the wall while drawing its dirturbing tongue back into its mouth, and letting its tail collapse back together. It focuses on those new 'senses', tryingt o make out the state of the Yodhblakat.
There's anger, certainly - plenty of it. But nothing.. appetizing. No true madness, which.. would suss differently, Scourge is sure.
"No, Scourge answers, sounding disappointed by this. It drops down to all fours after that and coils about, circles, and rubs up against Gorphat like a giant cat.
"Hmm, do you know where to find someone stricken by madness then?" Gorphat asks, stroking the creature's tendrils.
"One place; back in the bunker. A man stricken by the madness of the Yodhiphath," Scourge answers; practically purring at being petted.
"Go to him, then return to me," Gorphat says. "The passage behind us leads into the Temple."
"A question, Mother," Scourge asks, pausing in its path to the passage and up, "Is Hosheb permitted to visit me again?"
"Yes, you are free to associate with any of the Seven," Gorphat says. "Especially Hosheb."
Scourge smiles toothlessly. "Some of my forms have become very fond of horribs; Hosheb is the favorite of the Seven," the monster notes to the Goddess.
And with that, the odd creature heads up the passage, to the temple.
It doesn't take long to get oriented, Nicora having spent plenty of time exploring the Temple. The exit to the passage is hidden behind an ugly mat of hanging stink-moss, which is why she hadn't found it before. Soon enough the newborn creature reaches the open air. The city.. it's lit up! Not with light, but minds. Sparks and glows and auroras and rainbows and dark sucking clouds as well. And that's just what Scourge can suss. Its range is nearly a quarter mile, at a guess.
"This is incredible! the toothless monster thinks as it wings its way back towards Mount Inala. It's so caught up in examining the lights it doesn't even find it disturbing when its three-foot or more long tongue absently licks over her entire head.
The Temple of Inala is dark, save for.. yes, something in the dungeons. It susses purple-black, like a livid bruise. It would make Scourge salivate if it could do that, which apparently it can't. No use for saliva when you don't chew or swallow. While closing in, Scourge realizes something else: while Tulani might be out, Mave wouldn't be, and there's no sense of the Yodhinala. The bunker really must be warded against detection.
"/I'll just have to explain this is a new form to combat madness, crafted by Gorphat,/" Scourge thinks, "/If I have to explain at all. I will hopefully just sneak by..." It wings in closer, and closer, preparing to enter the bunker.
The closer Scourge gets, the more its hunger is stoked. It's difficult to focus on the physical, causing it to occasionally slip on a stare or bump into a wall before realizing it's there, in the way. But with a bit of focus, the creature finds the right hall, and now can hear the wailing of the deranged Eeee further in.
"Dinner..." is the only word that rolls through Scourge's mind as it slinks and slithers on all fours through the hallway towards the cell. Once it reaches the door, it cannot get the door open fast enough!
Whether the man tied to the wall sees Scourge or not, it doesn't affect his wailing. There's.. something else, at the edge of Scourge's awareness but it's just not important now. Now when it's feeding time! The long tongue extends, splits and wraps itself around the striken man's ripe, juicy mind. The madness is like wine. It's wonderful, smooth and chaotic all at once. Warm and cool. Crunchy, in places. A feast!
The sounds that Scourge makes are guttural, slurping, and oh-so-pleasurable! The tongue undulates while its tail whips around, splits, and wraps the man up to keep him from moving, lest it disturb the feast. If the creature was thinking clearly, it would be horrified at what it has become, and what it does. But right now all that matters is the hunger and the meal.
It's like the tentacles of the tongue reach in to the man's brain, and slurp and scour and chase down every last bit of that delicious bruise. But all too quickly.. there's nothing left. Just the blue and white and yellow and other non-bruised colors that are beginning to come back and spread to the madness-cleared regions.
The whine the creature makes is of disappointment. All too soon its tongue has to release that scoured mind and come back together. It's now its mind is clear enough to think, "What have I become?!"
The former meal slumps limply in Scourge's tentatails. But.. he's not wailing anymore. He actually seems.. calm. He's even smiling despite being unconscious.
"At least what I've become allows me to help ... these. If I haven't destroyed his mind," Scourge thinks. It also realizes it should leave quickly before it is discovered; and return to its ... Mother.
"I wish I had had a diagnostic spell running during that," a voice says from one shadowed corner of the cell. Ah, right.. without the purple madness overpowering Scourge's mind, it recalls that other slight thing at the edge of perception: the smooth, dark glow of a shielded mind.
"Hello, Cyprian," Scourge rumbles as its odd head turns to face the corner. "I am no threat to you."
"You know me," the Mind Mage says, stepping out of the shadow. "That is not especially worrying, however. You bear the mark - and raiments - of Gorphat. That too isn't so very surprising, as there's been all manner of divinely marked beings of late." At the assurance of not being harmed, he goes to the side of his patient and checks his pulse.
"You also know me," Scourge points out as it moves out of the way. "Gorphat created this ... form, to help battle madness, and bestowed it on me," it claims, then proceeds to test-lick Cyprian while he's distracted.
"What.. is that a tongue?" the Mage asks. He stands up, and says, "The patient seems to be resting, finally. What did you do to him, exactly?"
"Would you believe I consumed his madness?" Scourge explains, and licks Cyprian again, with nearly all three feet of tongue. "If another is captured, would you want to actually examine the feeding next time?"
"Yes, of course I would like to observe it under controlled conditions," Cyprian notes, and bats at the tongue. "It is clearly some form or magic, and thus should be knowable. I'm most interested in seeing if a treatment could be created from it."
"Only if you name the cure the magic lick," Scourge comments, and grins wide toothlessly.
"That is a tongue, isn't it?" Cyprian asks, arching an eyebrow.
"Of course. What did you think it was?" Scourge asks.
"I have no idea what it.. or you.. are," Cyprian notes. "You appear to be some sort of dragon, since you have wings.. but lack scales. And have tentacles."
"I'm the Eeee you have been helping with mind fortification," Scourge claims, "Just .... given a new body by Gorphat. Speaking of her, I must return to Her soon."
"I'll sit with the patient until he awakes, or the dragon-girl comes and can help carry him to Mt. Sunala," the Mage says. "Give my regards to Gorphat."
"Do you wish Her attentions?" Scourge inquires, grinning.
"No," Cyprian admits. "I am quite challenged enough, thank you."
"Pity," Scourge rumbles. "I will visit you again soon, in a more normal body. I promise. You still had things you wished me to try."
"Yes, if you have a purpose that is devouring madness.. then I suspect you are meant to seek it out," Cyprian notes. "Testing and strengthening would be wise."
"Indeed," Scourge rumbles. IT drops to all fours and heads back out of the cell in a disurbing, slithering, gait. Soon it is climbing the stairs ... and the night air awaits its flight 'home'.
It takes a moment to get its tail to go back into 'tail' mode to make for stable flight, but Scourge manages to return to the Temple without incident - no doubt aided by knowing when there's someone around, visible or not.
"So, did you sate yourself?" Gorphat asks, once Scourge is back in the thrown room.
Scourge slinks over to Gorphat's throne and 'sits' at her feet. "I did, Mother," the creature claims. "It was exquisite. It was also terrifying. You have completely changed me."
"Oh no, my Child," Gorphat says, and scratches under Scourge's chin. "I simply woke you."
"How do I shift from this form?" Scourge asks, "Or is this ... now the permanent me?"
"How do you change from the Shrine Maiden, or the Wraith?" Gorphat asks instead of answering. "They are your siblings. Or rather, all three are aspects of the same being."
"So, I just will it and it will happen," Scourge adds. "And my natural form ... there is no mistake that I am Your Daughter now. Bald and scarred."
"Is that your natural form?" Gorphat asks. "I don't think it is the one you were born with. The wounds will heal in time: they were to make you stronger, not disfigure you. I'm the ugliest of the Sisters, but I do not force it upon others."
"Even if it did not heal, I would wear the furless skin in your honor, Mother. I do not regret it or dislike it," Scourge claims as it nuzzles Gorphat's bandaged leg. "It is a reminder of being your Daughter."
"And I intend to have your mark, the Wound, tattooed upon it when I have the opportunity," Scourge adds.
"The Shrine Maiden is bald-skinned, and not homely," Gorphat notes. "And Mordecai, the very model of an ideal Bargorphat.. but so enamored of Inala, alas."
"Mordecai is a lover, and I think will appreciate that form; but I will have to deny him access to my Altar, lest your blessing harm him," Scourge rumbles.
Gorphat laughs at that. "Do you think he would be dissuaded? He robes himself in the trappings of Sunala, indulges in the desires of Inala, and turns his weakness into strength in honor of Me," she points out. "Why else do you think you can visit him as you do?"
"You could always lessen the blessing on me for his safety as well," Scourge adds with a hopeful (foolish I know) grin.
"He is of the Yodh, in his own way," Gorphat says. "If he is special, then the blessing will go lightly on him. Do you have faith in him, Child?"
"Of course. Faith enought hat I allow him to do whatever he wishes with me," Scourge admits.
"We all play our roles," the goddess notes. "He is the Artist. We are his Muses. And you are the Canvas. This is another trinity, like our own, and yours."
"I do intend to ask him if he would tattoo your mark, the Wound, upon the Altar of that body," Scourge admits, "If it would please you, of course."
"You do not need to please Me," Gorphat notes, stroking Scourge's tendrils. "Only serve me. I am not so needy or vain as my Sisters. Do it to please yourself."
"It will please me to bear that mark. How else may I serve you this day, Mother?" Scourge now asks, chin resting in her lap, "Or should I return to my room and rest?"
"Rest," Gorphat says. "Prepare yourself. Learn what this new body can do, and what it cannot. Soon, you will hunt."
One more nuzzle of Gorphat's leg, then the strange monster rises and slinks off to the chamber set aside for Nicora. Once there, it sits on the edge of the bed and focuses, trying to shift back to just being an Eeee, even if it is an ugly one.
It feels different this time. Maybe it's because the body is different? The bruises and scratches are still there, only now the bandages are a bit loose on her. Everything itches. There's also a basket in one corner of the room. Either the Yodhblakat brought it, or Gorphat arranged delivery. It might have been carried by a small horde of vermites for that matter.
And that's where Nicora undoes enough of the bandages to fit all her jewelry back in, as well as get a better look at her stark-white body. "I really do look like Mordecai now," she admits. It's also her chance to find and look in a mirror in the room to see what her face actually looks like.
The bruising makes it difficult to get some of the pieces back in easily, due to swelling (and occasional oozing). The bruises also ruin the otherwise 'pure' look of the bleached skin.
"Ow, ow, ow," Nicora complains as each piece goes in. Even re-fitting the nose-ring is rather uncomfortable. When she goes for the mirror, she also picks up the stuffie to hug.
Devoid of fur, her face looks.. thinner. Certainly more predatory, like Mordecai. Most disturbing is actually the lack of hair on top. Nicora never realized Eeee have such flat-topped skulls.
"No rune mark on my forehead," Nicora says once she can actually check under the bandage. "I am hideous," she admits, shighing.
In a white face, silver irises seems all but invisible. If not for the pupils, it would be like she didn't have eyes at all.
Nicora heads back to the bed and holds the stuffie to her chest. Her eyes close and she thinks of something, horrible, terrifying, monstrous, and evil. She thinks of Hosheb! He can now know she has passed, and that he can visit her again.
"That thing is disturbing," the clicky voice of the demon says, coming from next to the bed.
"The doll?" Nicora asks as her eyes open and she sets it aside. "It helps remind me of you; and that I was once a horrib-host," she explains as she looks over to the demon.
"How does that pillow help remind you me?" Hosheb asks. "I am not soft or cuddly. My eyes are not.. so.. round."
"It is horrib-like," Nicora says as she now traces bare fingers over the demon. "I walked the path, and am now Gorphat's Daughter. I can now spend time with you again," she explains. "I hope my appearance now does not bother you."
"Your appearance?" Hosheb asks. "You wear the bandages of the Yodhgorphat now. Is there some other change?"
"I have no more fur. It was all removed," Nicora explains, then shows a bare arm.
"Oh. You had fur before?" Hosheb asks. "You just seemed.. soft. Unarmored. That doesn't seem to have changed."
"So, you still wish to be my lover, then?" Nicora asks the horrifying creature.
"Again? Have I stopped?" Hosheb asks. "You are sometimes pale and furless. Sometimes dark and furred. I remember now. Does it matter?"
"No, it does not. I need to rest, and I thought of asking a favor of you. My body aches and it itches. Will you ... sting me so that numbness will allow me to sleep and recover for a time? Also, is it ... safe for you to feed me still? A real meal may also help me recover," Nicora asks nervously and rubs her hands together.
"My nourishment will not help your hunger, but I can try if you wish," Hosheb says, and his impressive stinger rises up over his shoulder.
"Even if it doesn't, I found I liked it when you fed me," Nicora admits, bare skin feeling a bit flushed and hot. She shifts a bit again so that she's lying on the bed next to the perched demon.
Hosheb is 'gentle' with the sting, rather than plunging it into the Eeee's body. The numbness begins to spread, canceling out the itches and aches. Only after the venom has had a chance to work does the rigid feeding tube extend and pierce into Nicora's stomach.
Nicora is grateful for the numbness when it comes. A moment of soothing nothing after a day of absolute agony. When the feeding tube comes, she also sighs. She can't feel it inter, but she can see it. "I miss the eggs," she admits to Hosheb, "I was scared at first, but in time they were a part of me and kept me alive."
"Perhaps you will host again, in a different way," Hosheb says, once he's filled the woman's stomach. "You will be hunting the alien thing soon, won't you?"
"Yes, I will," Nicora admits, unable to move, "I must find the lair of a beast, and destroy it." There's always this tinge of fear when she's with one of the demons, but at least this one she has come to know well and trust.
The chitinous parts of Hosheb's mouth gnash about for a bit, until he says, "I can help. When you know your course, come to me at the hive."
"The hive? The place where I was implanted?" Nicora asks. "How will that place help me? And won't it be dangerous?"
"There is no danger to you from the horribs," Hosheb claims. "Only you though. I do not know how it will help you, only that it can. You will know when you are ready to come, and can tell me."
"They won't grab me again?" Nicora asks, just to be sure.
"No, they recognize you now," Hosheb assures.
Nicora yawns slightly. "Well, I should rest now. It was .. nice seeing you again, lover," she murmurs to the terrifying demon.
Hosheb looks at the Eeee, and once she falls asleep, he makes sure the stuffed horrib doll is firmly clenched under her arm.