I determine that the only way that somebody can win at life is if they manage to raise a small army of literal rabbits to charge the enemy. As such, I pull out a
top hat, and connect it to a small device. Taking out a jar of Nightmare Fuel, some pig skins, and a few golden nuggets, I create the one device that shall grant me my aforementioned victory at life.
I stick the golden nuggets and pig skins into the top hat, and pour the Nightmare Fuel in as well. With a sprinkle of Liquid Death, I pull out a One-Man Band. Now, this thing is a masterpiece. The only problem coming from the fact that it places an immense tax on your sanity, but I haven't much of that anymore. With a flourish, I don the One-Man Band, and begin marching through the Crypt, banging drums of multiple shapes and sizes along the way. My vision twists and separates, shadows growing in the corners of my vision. Wonderful. Adding to the darkness.
Nine shambling horrors crawl forth from the depths, shadowed and mysterious. I continue to march about, banging the drums together with various mechanisms. With a flick of my hand, a number of animated skeletons burst from the ground, each wearing their own One-Man Band. With a quick drawing of Codex Umbra, I create a number of Shadow Puppets of myself, which also all don One-Man Bands, and charge into the fray. Soon enough, thousands of One-Man Band-wielding clones and skeletons march across the Crypt. Each draws nine more shambling horrors. I telekinetically drag slabs of limestone before myself, forming a staircase, so that I might ascend above all of my subordinates.
The army of creatures marches ever closer to Cranky Kong, growing in numbers by the second. Nobody can quite make out what the horrors are, sadly. Slowly, the light grows. The beings become more and more ostentatious. They are… they are…
Bunnymen. They are Bunnymen.
The bipedal rabbit-men continue to march with the army, compelled by our tunes and sorceries. And yet, in approaching the opposition, they know what they must do, and are not afraid. In this, I remove my One-Man Band, and hand it to a Bunnyman known as Alexander Earnwood.
—
Alexander Earnwood was having a bad day. First, some army of violent Descendants from above disrupted their crypt, then legions of deadly beasts followed, along with more deadly beasts. Earnwood was an avid musician and freedom-fighter. He sought for these murderous, bothersome Descendants to take their merciful leave from this horrific land, and for the war to return to the land christened Aboveground. Earnwood had never seen Aboveground, and never intended to. It was a frightful place, according to his grandfather, the vaunted Sir Eric Earnwood. His grandfather, along with his trusty cat sidekick, had ventured to the Aboveground in tandem with the host of Lord Rabbitor Xerivex during the Great War. Alexander thought his grandfather was, and remains to be, the best.
The next thing that happened to Alexander was rather eerie. He had been protesting for the wages of the less fortunate with a large amount of bunnymen friends, until he heard a banging noise from the direction of the Crypt. Curious, the entire group had departed that way, and found the most horrific, yet entrancing, of sights. A vicious murderer amongst an army of vicious murderers, banging a series of drums. Alexander liked the drums. His sister, Alyssa Earnwood, played them, and he had taken to recording her concerts as of late. Though Alexander knew it to be a trap, he marched forth with his compatriots, and headed toward the terrible being being fought by beings just as terrible. Alexander could not understand why he was doing this. Suddenly, a man tapped Alexander on the shoulder, and gave him one of the devices. Feeling suddenly wise and powerful, Alexander led his friends into battle, playing the melody of war. Soon enough, the being was torn apart by angry Bunnymen. Twenty minutes into the ordeal, Alexander came to his senses. What was he doing? He immediately dropped the device, and shouted at everyone to stop fighting, that they were essentially committing suicide. But they would not listen. So, Alexander headed back home, frightened of the fate of his friends.
—
I watch on as a singular Bunnyman returns home. Alas. With this knowledge, I command the Bunnymen to return home, having unleashed a serious amount of damage onto Cranky Kong. Well, hopefully. That shall be it for them, I suppose. I vaporize all of the drum-players of my creation, annihilating the infernal devices. I take my top hat back, and place it within my inventory, muttering to myself.
—
Trident && (Vial of Abyssal Ink && Demonic Blood Shard) = Haemal Analogue (Level 10: 10/11)
D20 && Alchemic Lexicon && Primordial Pearl = Philosopher's Kismet (Level 10: 9/11)
Crystal Splinter && Warded Potentia Jar && Wormwood Heart = The Polaroid (Level 7: 5/8)
Grandfather Clock && Manyullyn Compass && Unstable Node in a Jar = Tock (Level ???)
MANYULLYN COMPASS: A compass fashioned of the Nether alloy manyullyn. The thing is entirely useless, given that the metal manages to convince the compass that it is still present within the Nether, causing the needle to spin pointlessly. Hooray.
Apologies for all of the alchemies you have to designate the level of, Crystal.
+2 to Tazz; +1 to Cobalt.
Sodden Hollow 18/50 (+1 from Tazz)
Periculum 17/50
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Summoned!