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#he is the church grim in the graveyard of the world mortals forgot about
darktyrannomon · 1 year
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Grimmelfeld’s Death
The howl and rush of the blast echoes in your ears, so loud that you feel that you may lose all your senses at once. The dragon, as large as a small hamlet, shields the best of it from you, his hulking shadow the only protection from true annihilation. You can hear his pain reverberating in the forest that is shaking all around you, with the trees being forcefully ripped from their roots and turned to ash, creatures screaming as they too splinter into dust. Anything and anyone who was lucky enough to be close to you has rushed to the shelter of the elderwyrm, his kindness protecting predator and prey under one ailing body. The wolf and deer, the fox and rabbit, humanoid creatures that some of you have never seen before all huddle against his body, forming an island of green against a sea of grey ash and golden flame. Those who weren’t flash fried by the blast staggered into the circle with shrapnel tearing their bodies apart, legs crushed by falling trees or splintered with rocks and metal from the war machine. 
Your eyes slowly open to the hellscape, first only noticing the trembling creatures and persons able to seek this only shelter in the explosion, then noticing the wounded, of which there are many. The stench of blood and fear hit you through the tang of sulphur, the cries of the wounded feeling like they are forever away as the blast threatened to deafen you, the ringing in your ears drowning out thought, reason, and rationality. You think you can hear shouting, howling, crying, but sound is so drowned out it you fear it could be your imaginations. 
Roll con saves, roll charisma saves
Successful saves see Janus, at a crossroads, two doors in the distance.
You see what looks to be a man, clear as a picture in the middle of the smoke and dust, two horns connect behind him and seem to connect to something on the other side. He is wearing a sharp business suit and gestures to you to a door behind him. He turns, and another face, on the back of his head, also with a second set of arms, gestures to a second door. “It is not often we get to witness a choice that shapes the world.” they say, overlapping each other in eerie harmony. You blink and they are gone, but the doors in your minds remain out of your peripheral wherever you cast your gaze. 
Everyone except odette and zach make a perception check
You see the Magpie King, standing vigil next to the huge body of Grimmelfeld, who with laboured breaths seems to be trying to speak. He does not notice the Magpie King, but perhaps that is the point. In a solemn, pained gesture, the Magpie King summons a weapon, a glaive, died with obsidian and mercury. The head of the glaive elongates to a scythe which glows a soft gold and it becomes clear to you, those that have died and have seen the Raven Queen herself, that Grimmelfeld has moments left to live. Unable to speak, a voice reverberates in your heads.
“I am dying. In my final moments I can provide for you a gift, a gift of which you have asked of me already, but I only have the strength to do one or the other. I can give my soul to you to anchor one of your weapons of fate, knowing I can never return to my body, as it will be not fit for me to go back unless I turn into a dracolich or similar. Or, I can heal your friend. I can cast wish for Mina. I will be nothing more than ash on a skeleton soon, you must choose quickly.”
Looking at his body reveals that scale, skin, and muscle are starting to pull away, disintegrating off of the skeleton in a slow, beautiful manner as though flames were drawn by a spider web. Radiant energy slowly consuming the flesh until only bones remain. You must make a decision and quickly. Harness the soul of the dying dragon to save the world, or heal your friend of a dreadful curse?
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