Reroll

“Coming!” We hear Rachel's voice from the other side of the door, and it opens a moment later, “Oh, if it isn't my favorite players! Come on in!”

She's wearing the same bathrobe, and steps back to let us in.  The room is still set up the same way… but now she has a stack of parchments sitting on the table.  A TALL stack of parchments.  There's got to be at least forty or fifty of them.

We enter, and Jim starts, “So… clearly we…had a disconnect on expectations. Would you please fill us in on what happened?”

“Oh, it's just what I advertised,” Rachel remarks, “A Pathfinder game in real life. You have everything your group asked for, and your asks are what make you my favorite group.”

Something is off about her answers, but I can't finger it just yet.   Ed goes next: “How is THIS what we asked for?!” he gestures at his chest.

She laughs, “‘Random appearances' and ‘no brothers’ combined wonderfully… at least from my perspective.”

“WHY YOU…” Ed starts…

…but I step between the two and face Ed, “Calm down. Anger gets people in more trouble, remember?”

“Smart girl…” Rachel comments.

Which stings a bit, but that’s okay… and I think I have a finger on what's bothering me, “Why do you answer every question?”

“I'm required to answer by the binding, AND to speak no falsehoods,” she answers easily, “but as I’m reasonably confident you've guessed, ‘telling the truth’ isn't the same as ‘not saying false things’.”

"Very true…” Jim starts in, “What’s with the mind control? How's that part of the agreement?”

Again, Rachel laughs, “The only mind control on you is the prohibition on using your old names… everyone's supposed to speak in character as much as possible; it’s part of the rules, and it’s barely enforced.”

I think I understand this game… “I'm slightly more concerned about my lack of stuttering around hot girls, how I know things I shouldn't, how I got ready on autopilot, and things of that nature. What's up there?”

“You would hardly have the abilities if you couldn't use them. So yes, you have some implanted knowledge and routines,” she pauses, “You're welcome.”

Yeah… “I suppose that is necessary… can we amend the rules at this point?”

She laughs hard at that one, “Most groups could if I agreed; we'd write a new contact that released you from the old.”

Ed considers, “Most?”

“You can't,” she smiles very wide, “because you just reroll instead of leaving play.  That's what makes your group my favorite.”

“Would you agree to an amendment even if it was an option?” Jim seems to have figured something out.

“Of course not,” she laughs again, “What's in it for me? I have to expend the power in the bindings before I can get back home, and canceling a contract would require I put the power back… and I'm almost able to leave as it is. Besides… I like chaos, and your fights with the local inquisition will be epic… not that I'll be here to see them.”

“Local inquisition?” Jim seems concerned at that.

“I'm sure I mentioned this will be a high lethality campaign,” she begins… and yes, you did, so I nod and she continues, “Well… they’re why. That oh so powerful but oh so inexperienced woman that summoned me here had just lost her mother to them… so she applied her power through her blood.  And she applied SO much power… heh. She had quite the bloodline, AND was a virgin, AND killed herself making the bindings…” the being shakes her head, “So I had a LOT of power to drain before I can go home.  You got some, each of them got some…” she gestures at the pile of parchments, “and do please keep asking questions: Each drains a tiny amount when the bindings ‘force’ me to answer, and I really don't like being here… I want to go home. ”

So we only get so many questions, then… well, I have to ask: “What are our options if we don't like our bodies?”

She cackles, “Just leave play.”

At our stony looks, she continues, “Oh, don't be so droll. You can't ‘leave play’. Anything that would qualify instead causes you to reroll in a safe-ish place reasonably nearby.”

“Define ‘safe-ish’ and ‘reasonably nearby’,” Jim insists.

“The closest place that has enough room that’s not going to kill you if you hang out there for a few hours,” she rolls her eyes, “which means I can't give a hard definition… when the local solar primary dies, it will be quite far indeed… well, unless you pick a race that's fine on a barren rock.”

She pauses, “I can demonstrate if you grant permission.”

I know I'm going to regret this… “Just once.”

Rachel smiles, and drops her robe entirely… I'm entranced by her nude body… those big, round, pale globes topped with dark points, that thin waist, those luscious hips, that bare slot just begging to have something stuck inside.  She steps up to me, kisses me firmly on the lips, brings one hand to my cheek, and slips the other into my exposed lower opening… I melt into her arms, whimpering in pleasure as her skin turns red and a sharp pain runs under my jaw from one side to the other.

She steps back and I see her full form… a red skinned woman with snake eyes, ram’s horns on her head, serpent's fangs in her mouth, claws on both hands, red-furred goat's feet, a tail ending in a barb… and blood dripping from her claws.

And I feel warm and wet on my chest as I start to feel cold everywhere else… I look down, and see a thick red liquid pouring quickly all over my armor.  I try to say something, but all that comes out is a bubbly gurgle.

As everything starts to go black and I fall to the floor, I hear Ed scream, “Oh Pelor! She killed Kenny!”

…

I find myself back in the room, but alone, and the lighting faintly red… I smell sulfur… there's a blank character sheet on the table, as well as a quill, an inkwell, and a blotter… and I'm ME again! I head to the door and open it… then immediately slam it back closed.

No thank you. I am not stepping into that screaming inferno.  Which means… I look back at the character sheet. Ah, I need to reroll.

Hmm… nobody here… I wonder…I write “9999” in the box for my strength score… and the ink simply fades out.  Aha, it won't let me cheat, at least not that blatantly, huh? Ah well, worth a shot… well, I just did a Druid//Hexblade… maybe a Cleric//Ninja this time? All good saves, d8 hit die, wisdom to AC, wisdom-based casting… should be fine. I go with Time(Past) and Animal for my domains… that should give me a meatshield properly next level… I spend a feat on Wild Cohort for the disposable meatshield… skills, gear, spells, other feats… I  spend a good hour tweaking the character, and find that yes, the rules are quite well enforced. Pity.

Hopefully folks didn't panic too much… I fill out the last spot… a signature line at the bottom, not found on most sheets… and the world goes black.

“Oh relax, would you?” I hear Rachel's voice, “She's FINE. You guys can't die. That would make you ‘leave play’. You can't even be trapped for long, for the same reason.  You're all very high end immortals now. She certainly won't come back the same, but she'll be back lickety-split.”

I open my eyes, and see the ceiling of the dorm… and that's how I notice the projector isn't even plugged in. Great. All for show… “She's not lying,” I speak in my very feminine voice, “I'm back. How long was I out?”

“You...  well, your corpse, anyway… just hit the floor seconds ago,” the demon, Rachel, informs me.

“How is that possible?” I climb to my feet, “I spent hours there.”

“Time doesn't run at the same speed in all layers of reality. It's part of why I want to get home as quickly as possible; I don't want to have to start over from scratch with my holdings. I've been here far too long already.”

“You said you were close…” Ed begins, “How many questions left before you're gone?”

As the demon fades from existence, she gives a grin fit for the Cheshire Cat as her words linger in the air, “That was the last one….”

I walk over to where I was standing a moment prior, and look down at myself… err, my corpse.  Oh man that's… urgh. I don't feel so…

I lean over and dry heave for a while.  My first corpse that's not dressed up for a funeral… and it's mine.

“You'll be okay Debbie,” Ed packs my back.

Umm… “Debbie? My name's not Debbie, it's Debbie… ugh. Not this again. Call me Kenny, I guess…” I look down at myself and groan.