Feb. 19th, 2017

You're led down a hallway that more resembles the size of a freeway lane. The fae in front of you drifts slightly as she walks, and does not speak, her hands clasped behind her back politely.

As you ascend a wide staircase, you can hear music, growing gradually louder—the sweet strains of a violin. The song ends as you approach and enter into—

Something partially, it seems, between an amphitheatre and a throne room. Half the room is roughly hewn out of glittering rock, polished and segueing directly into the side of the mountain. A wide, dark entrance leads off into a cave, wide enough to drive a truck through. In front of this stands a pair of lithe fairy guards, dressed in blue and silver livery.

There are small doors that leave this area as well, most likely leading back into the main area of the mansion. As you enter, the fae that had been playing the violin is escorted back out through one of these, away from the wide stage they'd been playing on. Deep blue curtains are pulled back to expose a platform fit for any kind of entertainment, and in front of it—

Well, he's human-sized, and human-shaped, mostly, lounging sprawled across an elaborately comfortable-looking "throne." His eyes are narrow and slit-pupilled, gleaming like gold coins. He has silver hair swept back from a high peak, coiling around a heavy pair of twisted horns and pointed ears, though it's hard to tell where the hair starts and when the iridescent blue scales on his forehead begin, lining his nose, his jaw. His eyes are lined with a swipe of gold and black—fine scales, or careful application of makeup, it's hard to tell—and he's wearing an elaborate set of robes embroidered with enough riches to buy an entire second castle, or mansion, or both.

More notable, likely, is the distinctly non-humanoid, heavy tail curling out and draped on over the edge of the chair like a scarf, or the cruel hooked claws as he lightly taps two long, elegant fingers against his lips. There is a thin silver ring near the corner of one, attached to a chain that connects to a sapphire glittering in one ear. His smile is full of teeth, and his voice is like liquid, low and coaxing.

"This is a sssurprise," the dragon Mianythoth says. "I haven't gotten sssuch interesting visitorsss in a long time. Let'sss not stand on ceremony, however. Unlesss you've got sssomething else to sssay, all I want is that music that I heard in the foressst. Where did it come from? Give me that, and you can leave. Unlessssss," he draws that one out, looking the group over, "You have sssomething else you'd like to offer?"
There's a really uncomfortable few minutes after Lucifer vanishes with the trumpet. A hush settles down over the group, and most likely that awful moment of doubt. I mean, you did just make a deal with the adversary, the Prince of Darkness, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Father of Lies

. . .

Then there's a soft popping sound, and someone appears midair, about twenty feet up, dropping fast.

"AH. Oh, come on, Luci—"

The newcomer is wearing a black hood, and abruptly catches himself with not one, not two, but three pairs of wings, skinny legs pinwheeling only sort of elegantly as he catches himself in a little stumble, landing and dropping on his knees in front of them with a sharp gasp, legs splayed to either side.
Maon leads the way back towards civilization—somehow making his way easily back out through the woods, and you know, there's some things you just don't ask about.

It's a little longer walk back than it was getting there—you'd ended up popping out in a slightly different location. The sun isn't quite up enough to be causing any adverse side effects, and somehow as you walk, you find any fatigue or pain or chill drifting away, leaving you feeling rejuvinated rather than exhausted. The really happy archangel might be partially to blame for that.

The cottage soon comes into sight. Siùsaidh is sitting on the porch waiting, and Tristan's car is once again parked outside.

"Tis about time ye got back," she says firmly. "Tis been three days, and I can only mind an incubus in my home fer so long. Step inside for breakfast, now, won't ye?"

[we will continue to pick at threads in the Endgame but feel free to hit up anybody anywhere in the Epilogue! thanks for the game, see you again in three years soon ♥]

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Ars Goetia

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