Hal Henderics

"Hello!" Dackly shouts, waving. "Oh sweet, you've got Dark Magic? I've been needing some, go ahead and fire it over!" She says, unaware of his intent to harm.

"I believe it may be good to dull any pain that might occur." Mar creates a small bottle, stuffing it with cotton, sugar, and yeast, infusing it with magical energies to rapidly ferment it.

"Look, it's symbolic, either I get all of your hair, or there's a non-zero chance the book comes out with a hatred and desire for your death." Dackly shrugs, as her Soldierfriend stumbles over to a chair.

Holding up the glowing, glassy sphere, Mar shrugs. "Be at ease, Alexandria, this sphere is made of a foam which turns light to heat, and coated in a crystal which turns light into an energy which fuels any process." "It is inefficient, but should sustain this living doll, who requires unique fuels normally, to survive." "I would be happy to give you a sample of the Lightite, if you so requested it." He says, producing a tiny piece of glass which turns light into a tiny, meagre amount of literally generic, literally indistinct, glowing energy.

Mar, meanwhile, scanning over the materials, picks up the plastic bag. "Perfect. This should do admirably." He claims, strangely enough. "Rather than try to protect the lensite, I shall instead grant this plastic the properties of Lensite, via transmutation." Mar begins summoning an orb of energy from his chest, holding it between his palms. The energy looks almost invisible, aside from making the air shimmer, as though it were a heat haze.

"It may act unpredictably, but I could perform Transmutation rather than Synthesis. Do rubber or plastic lack silicon in them? If so, I could transform it such that it might take on the properties of Lensite." Mar asks. "My magic can produce substances when applied to Silicates, but if it is attuned to a Silicate and applied to a non-silicate, it instead transmutes the substance in the manner it might have produced a magical material." He explains. He digs around the room, pulling out his stone tablets of research material. "I have been recording the details of every material and combination of materials I test for Magical Attunement Properties here."

"Hmm, A few things." "Moonsilver, Cell. It is a magical material we found in another world. It's properties are interesting." "Say, Edmund, you mentioned Acids. I have a magic which acts as an acid. Perhaps your knowledge might help me in using it more effectively." "But before that, I will start by saying, I have a substance will will work admirably." Mar pulls from his satchel what looks to be a bottle filled with light, a beam of light is flowing from it's open mouth, and it is shaped like two spheres, welded together. "This substance is known as Lensite, I have created it using magic attuned to both an Eyeball and Pure Silicon." "Magic and any Light which touches it is sucked within, and beamed out of wherever there is a dip in it's form. A sphere, therefore, absorbs mana and light, and constantly recirculates it within, concentrating and containing it. A hole in the sphere results in a constant, more concentrated beam, and two spheres together form a buffer, in which the loss of mana is regulated by a second sphere slowly draining into the first." Mar explains, handing the bottle around so it can be examined. "Lensite takes time, but no great effort for me to produce, as converting any energy, even one as incredible as Magic, into solid matter requires a great deal of it." Mar demonstrates by synthesizing a small amount, with a large quantity of mana. "It's flaw lies in that it has the properties of glass."

Mar only laughs harder, digging around in his suit to pull out a bottle of his own. A simple, round bottle filled with a roiling blackness that eats all light that touches it. The room grows colder, even without him unstoppering it, and the bottle is warm to the touch. Burning, in fact. An unnamed fear arouses in the hearts of those who look at it. "Reaper Grog, my latest little brew." he says. "It'd probably kill an ordinary man!" Mar claims with a grin, pocketing the bottle once more.

"Cell." "A Fine name boy! You'll get on with us just fine!" Mar laughs, slapping his back. "Well do you drink, Cell, or is your fancy face beyond such things!?" Mar says enthusiastically rooting around in his stocks.

"Do so, then. I look forward to your efforts." "Are you a warrior, newcomer? You have the rugged garments and intriguing appearance of one who seems to have been in a great many fights." "I look forward to learning which battle required your face be restored with moss."

Deadlift picks up a rock, enhancing it's strength with another scream. "At last, a test of strength."

"I lack a means by which to refine it well." Mar says. "My only magic which can requires a great deal of time and effort."

"I am not fully aware. It seems to be associated with gravity, and the moon." Mar admits. "It also seems to have magical properties that make it grip, and restrain magic."

At the same time, Mar arrives, carting in his haul of Moonsilver and Tainted Moonsilver Ore, stalking back from the strange results of his experimentation. "Greetings."

"Fantastic!" Dackly shouts. "Let's be friends... Shall we?" She says, sealing the deal with a grin.

"Perfectly workable!" she says. "Let me just..." Dackly burns one of the Lahmu she petrified earlier as fuel, using it as an Earthen Emerald to power the Crackpot, while she does a few things. Step one, she takes a chunk of wood, and using a combination of Soften and Petrify, turns it into a syringe of Stone, Wood and Softened Material. This is dumped into the Crackpot alongside a clay mold of the Alchemical Rune powering it, with the intent of making a Syringe which can hold alchemical fluids. If this works, she also makes a Phial which can hold alchemical fluids. Assuming these work, she worms her way into the nearby Mine, grabbing just enough moonsilver to construct a Bow and Chainmail using soften to shape it more easily, before using the Moonsilver Bow to fill the Alchemical Syringe, and the Moonsilver Chainmail to fill the Phial. "From here, young man, you have a choice." "This Syringe contains the Bow Essence you desire, and the Phial contains the Chainmail. I can apply them, or you may have one of your own doctors apply it." "Or, if you join me on our quest, there will be yet more to be obtained, in addition to what I give freely now, and a noble task for you to complete, of saving other worlds from the very things that sought to claim your own." "The choice is yours." She holds up the stoppered bottle, and the sharp, stony syringe.

"You've got it in one. I have a special tool, you see, able to distil and reform the very essence of objects." "And it's rules are not those of arcane study, but rather, of literature, wordplay, and wit." "Imagine a crucible which turns not only metals, but anything imaginable to fluid, a tool which follows the "should be"'s of the world, where anything put into a scabbard becomes the sword that belongs there, a man who, upon rubbing iron into his skin, gained skin which was like iron." "This tool is so simple, that, in the land I obtained it from, even very young children were able to use it to perform incredible feats with whatever they can imagine ti put within it, setting it to liquid, and pouring it into places where other things belong, or onto things which absorbed them." Dackly unfolds her Plasteel Crackpot, setting it on the ground. "What traits do you admire in natural objects, and in the creations of man, that you would want for yourself?"

"Ahh great!" She says, with closed eyes and cheer as she slithers "I just wanted to reward the hard work of the people that helped us fight off those terrible, evil foes, and, with my grand and malevolent-" "Benevolent." "-Benevolent, right." "With my benevolent powers, I believe I have the power to make one lucky man into a Supersoldier." "Are you familiar with what that word means, my dear boy?" she asks. "Because I assure you, it's a very delightful adjective to have appended to one's profession."

Cicirega follows swiftly and silently, grimacing.

Dackly suddenly freezes, and obtains a wonderful idea... An AWFUL idea... She obtained a wonderful... AWFUL... Idea. "Hey! Any of you maggots worked with the Crystal Balistae?" Dackly yells slithering through the throngs of soldiers, while Gozer follows, an unknown, terror-like sensation emerging in his heart.

Dackly, meanwhile, is throwing a veritable tantrum. "This entire trip has been an absolute slog! Hardly any Statues, my poor Dragon skeleton baby is gone forever, and that darn horrific monster disappeared..." She whines. "We still have our lives, and you obtained that weapon." Gozer rebuffs. "Well it sure doesn't feel like it." she huffs.

Cicirega simply shrugs at their admission, continuing to polish their musket. They haven't had a not-fucked plan for their jobs in weeks. Every once in a while, they twitch from paranoia, dulled by booze.

Grant fires his Roulette Pistol at Tiamat, dealing 6d4+12 Damage, if he gets a 6 on a 1d6!

Gozer strikes again with Starlight Spear on Greater Lahmu A, while Dackly Parries It's Starlight Spear Attack!

Deadlift screams and glows with energy to make light, and moves towards the sound.