The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

Randidly looked around warily as the light began to fade and reveal the surroundings within the Skull of Truth. Sensations arrived gradually. First, he felt suddenly freed of the lingering headache that crouched on the bridge of his nose, due to the fact he hadn’t had enough time to sleep during the second half of the party. Second, he became abruptly aware that his body was morphing and swelling beneath him into something grotesque.

Alarmed, he made to move back, but his form simply rippled. His hair grew and thickened into vines sporting dangerously sharp thorns. His joints grew chitinous grey spikes and his limbs stretched and flexed. Meanwhile, his ribcage appeared to be opening up like a blooming flower, revealing a vast seed of darkness that sought to devour everything. Tongues of oblivion flicked out, tasting the air.

With a firm application of Willpower, those shifts halted and then began to reverse. The misbehaving limbs pouted but obeyed. His strange metabolism came under his control and his form shifted back toward his current physical look. But Randidly examined his fingers in wonder. An image body? Is this how we will be competing? That does not bode well for our ability to resist. My control is comparatively lacking.

However more than that… the sense of wrongness is even stronger here… This Skull of Truth-

“Welcome all!” A voice brought Randidly’s focus up. Don Beigon floated in the middle of the softly glowing space, beaming around at them all. Occasionally an amorphous shape briefly condensed behind him, but mostly they seemed to be suspended in an oblivion of soft illumination. Randidly glanced back and forth, noticing he was just one in a long line of similarly monstrous figures.

None of them flickered, earning a small frown from Randidly; it was clear that most relied so constantly upon their images that they were dependably solid. It was only from a golden-haired maven holding the keening blade Clarent that he saw other signs of instability, but considering how recently Claudette had acquired the image, it made some sense.

Looking around, Randidly once more felt that strange, worrisome instinct as he looked at the soft white space. Those shapes came and went quickly. Their construction seemed to speak to him. The Nether King told me not to trust the Skull of Truth… but even without that warning, there is definitely something wrong with the space. What the hell are these patterns I’m sensing…? They make my hair stand on end.

“This is an interior space within the Skull of Truth,” The Don boomed, without noticing Randidly’s discomfort. “I’ve deactivated the image reflection function that you’ve likely heard so much about- for now, be satisfied with your current images. They are your greatest weapons! I’ve projected you outside your bodies, but just to have a bit of fun. There is a physical location waiting below for the treasure hunt… but the body you use there doesn’t necessarily have to be your own!

“I’ve randomly assigned an order to all of you, and you’ll pick which body you use. So first… Allilia Dusseau!”

The soft light in front of them parted, revealing a long line of bodies opposite the image projections. Randidly felt his neck shifting into a thick trunk with several leafy protrusions as he turned to look down the line of consciousnesses waiting to choose. Most Randidly didn’t recognize, based on their image body. But he realized they were already in line, because the person three to his left pulsed and release a voice: it had been the central figure of the rebels. Her melodic voice was extremely memorable.

“I… choose my own body.”

The Don cheerily accepted, and suddenly the woman stood where her image projection had been, wearing her worn leather armor and looking around warily. She flexed her hands, checking her own condition.

As it proceeded down the line, Randidly announced his intent to use his own body, just like every other person. In the first half of the group, there were two of the rebels, Kyl MacDuul, Randidly, the Engraving Guild representative, and Moonlight Blade. As each asked for their own body, Randidly identified Claudette, obviously, but also Yust and Neshamah, further down in the queue.

The idle call and response from Don gave Randidly more time to examine the surroundings. He tried sensing the emotions and the ripples and viewing the intermittent shapes from that perspective, but he could glean nothing. The source of the wrongness eluded him.

Things began to shift when the line had moved into the second half, when the pulsing mass of muscle and ferocity and a weird gas that was Yust cleared his throat and spoke awkwardly. “I… ahem. I-I would like the b-b-body of Randidly Ghosthound.”

Everyone who had gotten their own body turned to look at him and the waiting images pulsed in confusion. But the Don simply nodded and there was a second Randidly Ghosthound, looking awkwardly down at his body. Even Sulfur appeared to have been duplicated, meaning that the copies wouldn’t need to fight with one arm.

The mysterious stranger with the Engraving Guild representative went next, choosing his own body. Then Tyune and the final rebel did the same. But when Neshamah and Claudette came up, they also selected Randidly’s body, with increasing confidence.

Randidly chewed on his lips as he watched the developments. His mind whirred. ...might take them a while to get familiar with my body, but having our entire team with it will definitely give us an advantage; this way, no one will die easily from clashing against an opponent’s image.

In addition, Claudette is hidden within one of the four Randidly’s, His smile widened as he considered. Despite the fact that all these people might be treating her rather casually, I suspect the alliance with the Beigon Family will be seriously jeopardized if Claudette is seriously injured. Or at least, Don Beigon will regard the perpetrator with suspicion. And in fights like this, a moment hesitation-

“I would also like to try little Randidly’s body.”

After a long pause, Randidly turned to look at the figure on the far end of the line of people. A crackling black mass of lines and spikes, filled with strange, violent seeming outbursts of red. It was a mass of chaos that held a larger promise of wrongness than the environment of the Skull of Truth. Then suddenly it was him, grinning widely with a Cheshire smile he had worn on his own face at points in his life. But there was something about this figure that made his skin crawl.

Devick. The Fifth Randidly. He thought with a strange bleakness. This means-

“How fun,” Don Beigon said softly. Then he gestured. “I wish you all good luck.”

The light rose abruptly, seizing them all once more and depositing their bodies, upon a harsh and hot mix of orange and brown rock. The transfer happened in a flash. Instantly, the headache was back, but Randidly still found comfort in the feel of his limbs and the flow of Nether through his veins. He crouched down and scanned the surroundings.

Dust, harsh sunlight, jutting ridges of orange stone, and scrubby little brush peppering the ground. He had been placed on top of ridge overlooking a wide and rugged desert. He hopped down into a small canyon next to him, his mind racing. There was quite a lot of open space around him and he didn’t know how far away another participant would be. First, he wanted to meet up with his allies as soon as possible. Once he had accomplished that, they could then begin their plans to neutralize the main threats to Claudette.

As he settled, he noticed his inability to sense any reverberations from both Sulfur or the Alpha Cosmos; both seemed suddenly inert.

He crouched and took a long breath, feeling the heat underneath his feet. Probably for the best; that means none of the others will have access, even if they had chosen my body. Or rather, its confirmation that this isn’t really a duplicated version of my body; we all received knockoffs. Which proves that the Skull of Truth isn’t omnipotent.

Also, although I can’t sense the Alpha Cosmos, that strange sense of wrongness is more pervasive than ever. Randidly raised his head. The patterns happened more often here, in a swaying branch of one of the bushes or in a drifting cloud. Yet as soon as they formed, they broke to pieces. More than anything else, it reminded Randidly of the way the Nether King could utilize patterns; every piece seemed to be part of a grand plan. Even worse, those patterns appeared to close off the world, reducing the edges of his senses.

He spun slowly in place, trying to see if he could find out the source was. As he did so, something caught his eye that made his expression go blank. Another version of him stumbled down the slope, clearly having trouble controlling the physical power of Randidly’s body. That version of him lost his balance, stepped, but ended up just stomping hard enough to crack the ground and force in his bare foot.

One foot, transfixed, that individual flopped forward onto his stomach and cursed.

Randidly’s lips twitched. Well, I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but it really seems like that Randidly isn’t Devick. If I had to guess… Yust… Yea, that curse has the right amount of bluster for the tiger man.

Randidly hopped down a little deeper in the canyon, intending to head over to speak to this struggling and inept version of himself. But he stiffened as there were suddenly two additional Randidly’s on each side of him, moving carefully down the slope into the lowest area, clearly making a beeline for the struggling him.

Shutting his mouth, Randidly planted his foot and streaked through the intervening space, and arrived at the fallen Randidly. Compared to the other two, this one was more trustworthy, if just for the abject lack of threat he represented. The fallen fellow in his body squawked and wheeled around, cracking the ground further with his flailing arms. Randidly easily grabbed him underneath the armpits and lifted him out and onto his feet.

“Even if we both have the same body, being able to keep up with the information it feeds you will take some work,” Randidly said lightly as he looked at a very wide-eyed version of himself. Then he raised a finger to his lips and used his other arm to point. “But we don’t have time to have you slowly find your feet; we have company.”

“Wait!” The Randidly at the base of the canyon bounded forward, clearly underestimating his strength and then scrambling to catch himself in a patch of tiny bushes. That Randidly straightened and patted himself down with his hands when he regained control of his momentum. “We are working together. I’m Claudette!”

“And I’m Neshamah.” The final Randidly sidled down out of the hills, Compared to the others, this one garnered the most suspicion with his movements. Although this Randidly moved slowly, he was definitely more sure of his footing than either of the other two.

Randidly looked back and forth, looking at the energy ripples they released. His frown brought the lingering headache back to the forefront of his mind. All three of these individuals seemed relatively calm as well, as he attempted to taste their emotional state. Is this a coincidence that we are all here? Or did the Don arrange that the groups would be dropped near to each other? Claudette is also probably who she claims to be, but could the final me just be Devick, pretending? She might not know how to be me, but she’s definitely monstrously clever.

The Randidly who claimed to be Claudette cleared her throat. “I know it will be difficult to get rid of all suspicion, but I think if we spend some time talking-”

BOOOOOOOOOM!

The impact wasn’t close to them, but the force shook the ridges and sent pebbles skittering down the slope in a wild scramble. Randidly crouched, while even the third, suspicious Randidly windmilled his arms and attempted to keep his balance. The Yust Randidly directly flopped onto his back, trying to maintain his standing position and slamming the back of his head into the ground.

On the heels of the impact, a voice boomed out over the mountain. “Bahahaha! It is I, Randidly Ghosthound! Elhume can go fuck himself! The Nexus is shit and everyone is just the stinky assholes! How dares challenge me to single combat? Let’s have some fun! Hehe.”

His three teammates within his body shared awkward smiles. Randidly reached up and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Well, at least that takes care of that problem.

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