glitter revenge event

The journey was a long one. Sparklebottom village was a far way from Achyon - and it had been a long time. Landmarks weren't the same as they were on the map drawn by the thankful fairies.

Where there was supposed to be a grand forest, full of little fairy houses, there was stone. Deliberate, well-structured pathways littered the supposed 'village...' and all the roads lead to one place.

A massive building, with huge, glittering lights at the top, and a winking fat man.

GREENZ CASINO,

it was labeled.

A bouncer stood at the gates... staring at our party. He looked pretty intimidating. Massive, for an otherwise ordinary-looking man.

"You got your ticket?"

He asked no one in particular, probably a pointed question toward the entire party.
[Narrate]

Wandering about.

None of this looked like the beginning of a fairy tale. None of this looked like what Celicia described.. and as far as he could tell, it's something that has been long gone- surely, they couldn't weed out all magic in just a year or two.

This was probably the work made throughout the years.

When they approach the large building with glittering lights on top, he squints once- he read somewhere that home, back in Barsburg, had similar places like that..

The places of entertainment.

But.. before them stands a very, very large man. He squints.

"Uh.." Tickets?

He gives a glance at Celicia. Were they supposed to bring tickets?
(Marcel Delisle)

The bouncer stares at the party through his slick, very cool shades. They sparkle at completely random intervals... with a supernatural light.

He said,

"Greenz Casino's invite only. You don't got a ticket, you don't get in."

Damn.

It looked like they only had a few options here.

(THE PARTY HAS A CHOICE TO MAKE! YOU HAVE THREE OPTIONS THAT CAN RADICALLY CHANGE THE COURSE OF THIS EVENT!

The party can:

Try and force their way past the bouncer!

Try and con the bouncer into letting them in!

or

There seems to be an old man puking his guts out over a railing, maybe he has a ticket...?

What will they do!?)
[Narrate]

The Greenz bouncer doesn't seem to be convinced. He says,

"Mister Greenz says nobody without a ticket gets in. Don't matter how important they think they are.

Get a ticket."
[Narrate]



"..."

None of this worked. And while Ryker opts out to try and rift the big bouncer, which arguably wouldn't even fit inside the rift anyway, he was about to briefly remark to Celicia, but..

Before he does that, it seems she has a plan of her own.

"--Hm."

Just as he was about to assign that to Celicia, he goes off to go speak to the old man who's probably having the worst time of his life.

"What I don't do for the Empire.."

A tiny sigh, and he approaches the no doubt awfully smelling scene next to that old man.

"Hey, uh-"

"Have you been inside there? Do you have one of these tickets?"

He won't try his luck with the bouncer. He's probably getting annoyed by now.
(Marcel Delisle)

Marcel and Ryker notice the short, puking old man is entirely unaware of his surroundings. He's puking so badly that it has eroded his sense of worldly awareness.

They also see he is indeed carrying a ticket.

They can roll a d6 to attempt to steal the ticket that is hanging out of his back pocket.

3 or higher is a success.

Matryona, you may roll a d20 to attempt to intimidate, but you have to take the lower of two rolls because you're much smaller than him, and he is wearing sunglasses.
[Narrate]

Ryker pyr Docro rolled a dice and it landed on: 6

Ryker manages to snatch the old man's ticket without him noticing at all.

Just in time for the bouncer to say to Matryona,

"Godfather might not be happy, but I've seen Greenz eat a man whole for lettin' his pals in without a ticket.

I'd rather try my luck with the one that don't eat a man whole."
[Narrate]

"--Hm."

In case it might not, the Corporal is quick to whisper quietly to Ryker.

"Hey.. Captain.."

"If it doesn't, can't you walk in, mark the ground for your rifting, then walk out and get us all in?"

"Just a thought."

After all, the bouncer might say this ticket applies only to Ryker.
(Marcel Delisle)

The bouncer gives an affirmative nod to Ryker. He doesn't seem to care that it isn't even their ticket. Just that they managed to get a ticket.

"Welcome to Greenz Casino. Get your tokens from the receptionist."

As soon as the bouncer steps aside, the gates seem to open on their own, and they are free to enter the casino.

Right when they push their way past the gates, they're greeted with a glittering golden walkway down to the first floor casino. The receptionist gives the party 500 TOKENS!

CURRENT PARTY TOKEN INVENTORY: 500

"WELCOME TO THE SLOTS FLOOR!" Says a seemingly automated voice. All the slots are occupied by haggard looking, unnatural old folks. Some of them look like they might be quite rich.

Conveniently, only one slot machine is open for the party to use.

GREENZ GAMBLING GALA OF GREATNESS!

A very wordy, and gaudy title.

OOC:

Now is your chance to gamble!

Here are the rules of SLOTS -

Your minimum bet per spin is 50 tokens!

Your maximum bet per spin is 500 tokens!

After betting, roll 1-99!

You win on DOUBLES!

Example: 11, 22, 33, etc.

If you win, your winnings are multiplied by the amount of the final digits

So 11 would win you your tokens back, 22 would double it, 33 would triple it, etc...

The only exception is 77 - 77 = JACKPOT! Hitting it will award you TEN THOUSAND TOKENS, REGARDLESS OF YOUR BET!

LET'S START PLAYING SLOTS, GANG! Will you hit the jackpot?!
[Narrate]

At last, they made it inside.

There's only one last glance at the bouncer before he begins to advance inside, but.. the moment that his gaze trails all over the place? He seems rather surprised that this could be established at all..

It's his first time in casino.

But if gambling with gacha boxes taught him anything, it's all about the odds. The Corporal's gaze inspects the glitter all around, and yet he finds himself intrigued by the voice of announcer- conveniently, he finds himself reading up on the gambling rules.

To see what combinations would net them anything at all.

"Hrm.."

"The odds we win anything are one in ten, essentially.. or rather, ten in a hundred."

"I don't like these odds."

They're far more likely to lose than they are to win anything- perhaps, it's why they're given tokens like these.. to give them a tasteof the casino, to draw them in.

Then to make them spend money on more tokens.. in hopes they get more.

Yet, Delisle decides to ask the receptionist. Better to be well-informed than not.

"--What's the exchange rate of coin to tokens, and vice versa?"

Surely casino is here to make money. It'd be odd if they weren't.
(Marcel Delisle)

The receptionist, who was just about the only ordinary looking person in this casino, answered Marcel's question with another question,

"One coin to one hundred tokens.

Keep in mind that you did not pay to enter, sir... you were invited... and our odds are very forgiving..."

A rather forced smile was sent his way.

"Our aim isn't to make a monetary profit at the Greenz Casino... it is to promote fun! Rest assured, you will hit big..."

They probably HAD to say that.

Meanwhile, as Celicia tried to solicit donations from the other patrons, she would notice that they completely tuned her out... not all that different from the vomiting man, when one thought about it. Only they weren't puking.

They were just... glued to their slot machines.
[Narrate]



[PARTY DISCUSSES THE PLACE & GAMBLES]


"One coin to a hundred tokens?" Marcel squints.

"So we're given.."

"An equivalent of five coins.. and your jackpot is equivalent to one hundred coins."

That alone makes him realize this isn't particularly anything you actually get rich with right away- if anything, while he looks around at patrons who are all very, very old..

He comes to conclusion.
One spoken to the rest of the party, as opposed to receptionist.

"I think they're lured in with the promise of eventually winning enough coins to get rich, over time."

"But even if someone scores jackpot, they blow that coin away - because a hundred coins gets you not much at all."

In other words.. they're in perpetual cycle - where casino keeps winning little over time, but it all piles up to large amounts with so many people.

Though, given the amounts, Marcel seemingly lost all interest.

"Celicia."

"We intended to head elsewhere, didn't we? For... particular creatures."

He implies faes, of course- but something is telling him he shouldn't say it out loud.

Just a hunch.
(Marcel Delisle)

The Receptionist shakes their head.

"Sorry, you can't buy tokens. You have to gamble the tokens you've got. It's Mr. Greenz' policy."

Just as Emery tries to insert fraudulent tokens inside of the machine, the soldier feels a cold hand on his shoulder.

Was it the bouncer...?

No.

It was a very tall, intimidating bald man... also wearing intense looking shades.

"Why don't the five of you come with me? It seems like you're having trouble figuring out how to use our slot machines.

We have a room for people like you to gamble in a safe environment, where they can't damage our machines."

The big bald man then seemed intent to lead the lot of them into a room off in a corner somewhere. It didn't seem like it would actually go to a room where anyone would willingly gamble...

uh oh.
[Narrate]

Can't buy tokens..?

It felt like.. a lie. How else is the casino supposed to make money if they're not really getting money from the outside, and just give people tokens? How do these people keep going, when statistically speaking, they should run out of the tokens - especially with all those losses?

Unless..

Marcel squints at the patrons once more. All of them look withered, old- almost on death bed; and one of the old men outside was puking his guts out, even though he can't seem to find anything he might've gotten food or alcohol poisoning from - there is no bar, nothing he notices right away.

Were they..
Gambling for their lifeforce?
Or something similar?

"..."

When such realization strikes him, he makes his way back to the party- there's a quiet ushering made.

"--I don't think they make coin here."

"Look around. Can't buy tokens, but people look withered? They're gambling their lives."

"They seem... hooked. Too hooked."

Using humans as batteries was an old time practice- there was wicked magic in existence that does similar things, and as far as he's concerned, that's likely the case.

With the tall, pale man approaching them, there's a pause. His lips purse, but..

Underneath that jacket, Marcel carries a gun.
He always does.

"--Ah. Of course."

"Show us."

If they're suddenly ambushed, he'll be ready; but they won't get to the truth if they just wander around here.
(Marcel Delisle)

The party is brought into the room where they're meant to be 'gambling safely,' but just as they enter, they don't even have time to take in the scenery. The lights go out, and in the dimness, the only thing illuminating them is a pair of fists lit up with blue energy.

Raw power coursed through a pair of gloves the bald guy was wearing... and unfortunately, he wasn't the only pair they'd see light up in front of them.

Now it was a group of enforcers, ready to punish the unruly guests, starting by dogpiling on Emery, the poor son of a bitch.

"Mr. Greenz sends his regards."

(GET READY TO RUMBLE)

[NARRATE]

The entire time that Marcel was led along, his hand idly clutched at something across his jacket- it might seem like he's holding up his hands in jacket pockets, but..

In reality, he always held onto his gun.

If only then where they're brought in to the room, the Corporal smiles sheepishly- gazing at the arrival of group of enforcers.

"What's this?"

"Such nice, tidy uniforms."

"Oooh, I'm so scared.."

Is it to taunt them on purpose?

"What, you guys don't have sarcasm anymore?"

Knowing his odds of defensive techniques, perhaps, just maybe Delisle is doing this on purpose; he can take plenty of beating, plenty of being focused, but..

They dogpile on Emery, still.

The gun is immediately drawn, quick- there's no delay, no hesitation, all that is heard is..

Click..
BANG!

Marcel doesn't wait.
He shoots first.
(Marcel Delisle)

Marcel and Ryker roll 1d6

Matryona, you may RP defeating the five bald men as your friends watch in awe at your power.
[NARRATE]

Matryona and the gang dealt with all of the bald men, one way or another, leaving one alive, and threatening his life to let them in the higher floors. The look on the big guy's face was one of pure terror...

But he wasn't afraid of Matryona killing him... he was afraid of something else. He knew that he was going to die here either way, but he had a choice to make.

Was it going to be at the edge of a blade, or in Mr. Greenz's fat, disgusting stomach?

He made his choice. His hand slowly reached for Matyrona's blade, and he took a firm grip of it, before pulling as hard as he could, to ensure a strike clean into his neck.

Blood bubbled from his mouth, and he coughed out his last breaths before fading away...

finally, the lights came on.

Destroyed at Marcel's feet were one of the power-gloves the bald men were wearing. It was the only one that had remained intact - but barely so. A marvel of technology. Mr. Greenz must have secured some fine works from the Empire himself for his workers, with his vast degree of wealth.

Also worth noting was exactly 15,000 tokens lying on a table nearby.
[NARRATE]

It was a rough tumble.

Rough enough for Marcel to get hurt- to be bruised by the Enforcers that seemingly took a liking in striking him down as the fight went on, as opposed to striking Emery. The ion barrier was tested to its limit, lightning striking back at the men as they tried to take down Marcel and Ryker alike, and yet..

It was pierced.

Strike after strike- the Corporal did his best to defend himself, quite often either dodging the strikes that could prove to be too dangerous, or refreshing the ion barrier that was broken. There's one strike that he didn't see coming, but..

The earthen defense protected him.
Enough to ensure he won't get hurt more.

Delisle stared at the fallen Enforcers- in particular, the ones that were closest next to him. He spat out a clot of blood from the busted lip, a frown worn on his expression.

"--Didn't fall."

An idle 'hmph' followed, with a gaze at the gauntlet. Perhaps he'll be able to actually meld it into something curious..

And Marcel collects it. There's already an idea what he can do with it.

"..Interesting."
(Marcel Delisle)

"WELCOME TO THE HIGH-ROLLER FLOOR!"

An automated voice calls out to all of the party members as they ascend the stairway in the center of the casino without any difficulty - the strange admittance system somehow knew their exact inventory of tokens.

Interestingly enough, there is nobody here... nobody except the dealer for a single table - the Roulette table. He was wearing a strange, leopard print tank top, and he was ugly as sin.

Has nobody ever become a high-roller at the Greenz Casino?...

Even the Roulette clerk seems surprised to see them, but it quickly turned to a customer-friendly smile. He says,

"Step right up, folks. The most lucrative game in the Greenz Casino is here for play!"

OOC:

HERE ARE THE RULES FOR ROULETTE

The minimum bet is 1000, there is no maximum bet!

You can bet on either EVEN, ODD, or 0 (represented by rolling 100)

A successful bet will triple your token bet if it is on even or odd!

A successful bet on 0 is JACKPOT and will 100x YOUR BET!!!

Unlike other roulette tables, you cannot make bets on multiple different outcomes. You must choose one of the three.

ENJOY YOUR GAME!
[Narrate]

An oddity.

As much as Marcel walks with the rest into the higher leagues, he can't help but observe this place, noting the eerie lack of presence for practically anybody else.

Except the clerk.

They needed more in order to gamble with the so-called Mr. Greenz, did they not? This is something that he began expecting to be a hostile encounter at the end - especially if the rumors about him eating people alive are true. Though..

"Huh.."

"I don't think my luck is that good." Especially not after what happened in the previous encounter.

That.. could've gone better.
(Marcel Delisle)



[GROUP GAMBLES FOR A WHILE]


"...This is going to take forever."

The Corporal was getting rather.. tired of it; they could spend a very, very long time trying to bet enough tokens until they finally reach one hundred thousand.

There's a quiet hum, and he comes up with idea- an idea spoken quietly, whispered even.

Both to Ryker and Matryona.

"Commander. Captain."

"How about we bet on zero, and I'll try to gently push the roulette ball onto it with air magic?"

"The clerk probably won't notice."

It might be just their way out of this- otherwise, they could be stuck for a very long time.
(Marcel Delisle)

While Emery was disgracing the empire with his poor rolls, Ryker managed something no man ever had in the Greenz Casino.

He rigged the game...


for himself?

The clerk didn't even notice. As the ball fell onto the roulette table, a tiny, ball-sized rift slipped it through the fabric of reality, and it came out on the other side. It was slick enough that if you blinked, you'd miss it...

That roulette ball landed directly on 0.

"Holy fuck," the clerk said. "I think I just lost my job."

NEW INVENTORY: 116,250
[NARRATE]

Marcel Delisle says, "--Or that."

Suddenly, a strike force comes ziplining through the windows. A squad of at least two dozen heavily armed soldiers with advanced looking magitech armor have their rifles spun up, aiming for our party.

"DROP THE TOKENS, CHEATER.

THIS IS A FAIR AND HONEST ESTABLISHMENT OPERATING UNDER A RULE OF INTEGRITY AND TRUTH.

YOU HAVE FIVE SECONDS TO COMPLY."

oh no.
[Narrate]

The Corporal was suffering.

Waiting until they'd meticulously collect coins until a hundred thousand, and even then, they weren't anywhere close - they didn't even collect twenty thousand, and that's just one-fifth of the whole gamble.

No. He isn't intimidated by the armed guards.
He's intimidated at the thought of having to wait again.

"NO."

"I'm not going back there! Not again!"

Delisle, a man who was used to being busy all too often, was practically losing his mind in absence of having anything to do- a busy mind could not have any time to face any internal issues, or the thoughts that plagued him often.

Idleness and inaction, however?
It forced him to confront these.

Of all group, he's the first to begin firing the shots at the security; the ion barrier quickly forms around him as well for protection.

Desperate. He'll never want to experience that again. He'd rather get into situation that directly threatens his life and health.

It's that bad to him.
(Marcel Delisle)



The gang manages to repel the MEGA SECURITY, with Marcel being the one to defeat the very last soldier.

Feel free to detail the ensuing execution, Marcel!

All Party: Roll 1d6
[NARRATE]

So many.

Surrounded by the soldiers equipped in top-notch magitech armor, with their training obviously oriented around suppression, Marcel didn't panic nearly as much as he probably should have; the fear of falling into stagnation was always there, but.. when it comes to fighting, the Corporal was rarely intimidated.

They weren't surrounded.
It just meant they can fire in any direction.

Such testament proved to be true, especially for someone like Marcel; the vicious winds shredding in all directions, and the thunder that strikes seemingly everywhere- is it not the beauty to observe such brilliance in combat?

Perhaps, it would be..
If they weren't taken up by the fighting itself.

With soldiers falling apart, one by one, it falls upon Marcel's shoulder to finish the last of them; seeing that they were far too intimidated to even speak the last time, no doubt due to intervention of Mr. Greenz, he figured there's no point in keeping them alive.

With the last one, Marcel didn't risk approaching the volatile, cornered soldier- seeing the flames and explosions all around, it was the only reasonable solution he could imagine. The aim is taken, pointed right at the last soldier, until..

BANG!

Shot through the chest; piercing lightning, one that not only burns heavy, but disintegrates the flesh, leaving a less than slightly mess- perhaps he survived it initially, but..

There's no doubt he'll bleed out without urgent aid.

"They're down."

If there was any point in asking the dying magi-tech soldier anything? Now was the time.

Otherwise, he'll die soon due to injury.
(Marcel Delisle)

The squad was overwhelming to deal with, but it was evident that the forces of the Empire could more than handle them. They'd have a run for their money, given how they were totally outnumbered, but ultimately they came out on top in the end.

A pierce of lightning caught the final soldier in the heart, though he was still breathing for a while. Somehow... the cybernetics and magitech that he seemed to be fitted with were completely out of this world.

"Kuh... see you bastards in hell."

He slowly reached for a button on the back of his helmet... and suddenly he engulfed entirely in flames, exploding violently in a shower of ash, blood and guts.

It did not catch any of the party in it, although a piece of his armor fell at Ryker's feet.

That fire? It didn't stop burning... but it was not hot to the touch to pick up the piece if he so desired to.
[Narrate]

A door labeled Manager's Office swings open entirely on its own, with a very loud buzz.

An invitation from Mr. Greenz, perhaps...?

The alarms have stopped sounding. It's time to go in and figure out why the workers seemed to fear him so much.
[NARRATE]

They'd have to see something monstrous.

At least, that's what he was so certain about- after all, as far as he can tell, people around here were heavily intimidated of this so called Mr. Greenz, but..

Given that the Corporal was still not injured this whole time through? Surely, they'll be able to take him on just fine.

He walked with the rest, prepared.
(Marcel Delisle)

As they enter the Manager's Room, they're faced with something too horrifying to comprehend.

It's a big, green blob of a man, sitting back in a huge chair at a desk with a blackjack deck sitting beside him.

"So..."

He said, bile spewing out of his mouth onto his undoubtedly expensive suit.

"You think you can rig my fuckin' games, do you?"

He placed a hand over the blackjack deck.

"Well,

Let's see if ya can rig one... when the stakes are a little higher."

The door slammed behind them, and seemed to be barricaded by a cage of iron-clad bones.

"We're playing for keeps. Minimum bet?

Your SOULS. AH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!"
[Narrate]


Revolting.

Even a mere stare at him caused Marcel's face to contort in visible disgust- his features physically cringing at the mere prospect of someone like that even existing; perhaps Empire might do dubious things on their own as well, but..

Never it has gotten this bad.

Is this what happens to people that overindulge, or become so consumed with their greed and gluttony that they'd find themselves unable to stop the transformation into something horrible?

Maybe it's best to not even know the answer to that question.

"Holy shit."

"You are one ugly motherfucker."

The Corporal doesn't even bother saying much else to him- the aim of the rifle is instinctively taken at the Greenz, and there's a silent click! coming from it.

"Never liked the whole spirit juju anyway."

What follows is very much known; if the Corporal doesn't like something, or finds something dangerous..

He shoots it.
(Marcel Delisle)

The disgusting creature's laughter didn't stop.

"I'm willing to bet it all, you're not going to be able to stop me... you're not going to be able to lay a FINGER on MR. GREENZ!"

He slammed a briefcase on the table, filled with golden versions of the tokens that they were carrying around. It was FIVE MILLION of them. Had to be. They glittered a radiant gold, unlike anything one would have ever seen.

"These are the real tokens. Made outta pure fairy dust. Ground 'em up, condensed 'em into the most valuable and powerful metal that a man has ever made.

If you can beat Mr. Greenz... they're yours.

But the house always wins, chumps."

He shuffled his blackjack deck, and got ready to draw. As soon as he did, the entire room filled with a green mist...

"Oh... looks like I'M DOUBLING DOWN! AGAGAGAGAGA!"

(the battle begins)
[NARRATE]


1 down: Marcel, Ryker, Celicia
2 downs: Emery, Matryona

All of you roll 1d6

Matryona, you landed the last hit on this revolting mess of a man.

----

NARRATION:

Mr Greenz is slain through the combined efforts of the people of Achyon.

Through his vomitting, and his revolting death, he manages to squeeze out a final AGAGAGAGAGAGA before his eyes shut for the final time.

Mr. Greenz was gone.

The house didn't win this time.

He leaves behind two prizes:

A strange deck of cards, and the briefcase full of literal fairy-coins. Millions of them.
[Narrate]

With Mr. Greenz dead... the whole casino seems to get a bit dimmer. A bit greyer. It all goes quiet.

He leaves behind a fabulous amount of the fake tokens that they used for casino winnings around here, too.

+883,750 TOKENS!

GRAND TOTAL: 1,000,000 TOKENS

As they prepare to leave, they see that outside, the entire place is desolate. The building is empty. There aren't even any roulette tables or anything on the High-Roller floor. The dealer isn't there anymore either.

When they descend to the main floor, they're greeted with the same sight. A desolate, grey slot-machine floor. Even those old folks aren't there. What the hell was this place?

The only one left was the receptionist.

They exchanged the party's winnings for coins.

TOKEN INVENTORY: 1,000,000 / 100 = 10,000 COINS!

They are placed on the windowsill for the party. It looked like the journey was over.

Except for Emery. Emery had something much worse to deal with. Something was in his pocket. Something that was moving.
[NARRATE]

He probably should've stayed further away.

Not only the revolting mass of goo and puke was all around, but the Corporal was struggling to get away from everything in a timely manner- it's almost as if there was no escape from it, no matter how far he could try and flee.

No escape from the disgusting substance.

For every shot fired, the revolting mass of green was spewed all over- for every shot that actually penetrated the body of Mr. Greenz, he was leaking out even more of it; at some point, Delisle was far too unfortunate.

He got too close, and..
Puke. All over him.

Slimy and disgusting, Marcel found himself backing off- thankfully, Mr. Greenz's end was right around the corner, and with the explosion that burst out from his body, it was over at last. But..

"Ewww.."

There was strange compulsion to him; a strange feeling that he may have experienced before, but never to such extreme degree- but a curse is a curse, and as much as this feeling was etching at him from within, it also weakened him.

"I think- I think I'm going to be sick.."

The disgusting mass was something he'd do his best to wash away once they're all home; the journey was over, but there's still a remark to it.

"Let's just go home.."

"I can't stand this."
(Marcel Delisle)