Solid Judgment

"Solid Judgment" is a BOTGD 2 Act 3 thread started on [IRL DATE] and finished on [IRL DATE].
==Summary==
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==Full Text==
The crumbled stone meeting hall like the elongated ribs of a sunken sea creature, yearning upwards for patches of faint scarlet light from the blood moon shining above. Though the meeting was lantern-lit, the six weary people at the table could notice that the light began to very shift and flicker, the same way that the day flutters through slow-moving tree branches. 
ᴛʜᴇ ᴊᴀɢɢᴇᴅ, ʙʀᴏᴋᴇɴ ᴍᴏʀᴛᴀʟ ғᴏʀᴍ, ᴅᴇsᴘᴇʀᴀᴛᴇ ɪᴛ ᴍᴜsᴛ ʙᴇ.
When they looked up, it was as though they were at the bottom of a deep well, the walls around them reaching impossibly high. The scarlet moonlight was being periodically obstructed by some kind of…thing. There was no better word. It was only a silhouette, and yet it was already clear it had more limbs than a dragon, and in an unfamiliar configuration. It seemed to be bracing itself against the walls of the new, deep pit, slowly descending, one limb at a time. Every now and then a slight puff of fine dust would fall downwards, the sound of stone grated against stone, and it would creak lowly, building an unnerving resonance around the fallen nobles. It was approaching, but it was in no hurry.
ᴀɴ ᴀʀᴄʜᴀɪᴄ ʙᴇᴄᴋᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ғᴇᴇᴅ ᴀᴍʙɪᴛɪᴏɴ. ʙᴜᴛ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴀᴍʙɪᴛɪᴏɴ...ᴏɴʟʏ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴛᴇʟʟ.
To not become weak at the knees would have been impossible for the group. But the demon was right. They indeed were jagged and broken. For years they had been forced to work. Some of them almost as hard as the slaves they had once kept, and enabled across the continent...almost.
It had nevertheless left them hollow. No lesson had been learned. No humility gained. No insight. Only resentment, and bitterness.
Their lives as they knew it had ended the day they laughed in the face of the rebellion's brief period of diplomacy, only to be hit harder than they had ever been in their lives. For many it had been the first time in general. Each of them hadn't forgotten it. There had been no one to cry to, no immediate, cruel retribution they could enact with a click of their fingers, and the memory of it burned them like coals.
So even as their legs shook, and voices dried, the group just stared up at the demon with empty eyes, and waited. Waited for the chance to have revenge like a drop of water on parched lips.
The beast paused, and the majority of its body seemed to tilt oddly, as though considering them. ʏᴏᴜʀ ғᴀʟᴛᴇʀɪɴɢs ᴇxᴘᴏsᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴡᴇᴀᴋ sᴛʀᴜᴄᴜᴛʀᴇ, ʏᴏᴜʀ ғʀᴀɪʟᴛɪᴇs. ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪʟʟ sᴘᴇᴀᴋ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅᴇsɪʀᴇs. The voice held physical weight, as though a lowering ceiling had just brushed the tops of their heads. Not only was it an earthshaking command, it was a divination of what was to come. There was no chance for them to not do so. It would happen. 
"At every turn, the result of Darien Whiteland's failure has plagued us." The first man spoke without any further hesitation, as if the demon had yanked the words straight from his mouth. He was old, gauntness in his cheeks and deepness under his eyes. His thin grey hair was pressed back over his head, and his dropped shoulders held only a ghost of the prideful certainty of the officer he had once been. A twisted, horizontal scar cut across in line with his upper teeth on the left side of his face. "What began as a bright promise and cornerstone of our reign was soiled by fragility and misfortune. At every turn...we have been foiled...since the fall of the dungeon."
His eyes became wider, even as his body was locked in rigid stillness. "It's not possible that the rebels could have beaten us they way they have!" He cried, even though his weak chords could barely stretch his voice past a whisper. "If they had not secured the weapon that was supposed to be ours. Subdued it the way we were supposed to subdue it, then they never would have won!"
His teeth clenched together as sweat began to dot his brow. "We have six souls, loyal to Central, and willing to do anything to rip what must be the core of this rebellion out by its roots! She cannot be afforded to stay...!"
"Kill the demon..."
The creature above them radiated engrossed interest, at a level that made it clear that this was an uncommon emotion for it to experience. All present beings felt a cold burning sensation trail across their missing extremities and deep scars. A cavernous sense of deep longing suddenly flooded their hearts; they were not enough as they were, they would never be enough. Not only did they wish that their bodies were whole, they could picture themselves as more–multiple faces sharing multiple pale eyes, heavy mantles melding seamlessly into their shoulders, the folding and unfolding of countless limbs, consciousnesses completely ingrained into soaring granite monuments. Generations of the toil of Central and its predecessors, solidified into eternity, unable to be worn away even by time itself. 
They could not triumph if they did not become perfect. They could not be perfect if they did not shed what was broken and wrong about themselves. And above them hovered the perfect chisel to make it so. The air shivered with a vibrant resonance as they came to this realization, visions forced upon them by their newly forged connection.
ᴛʜᴇ sᴘᴀᴡɴ ᴏғ ᴍʏ ᴋɪɴ, the stone demon mused. ᴡʀᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴏғ ᴅᴇsᴛʀᴜᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴀs sʜᴇ ᴅᴇsᴛʀᴏʏs. It continued to creep, the shadow across the table growing darker and darker. ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴇxᴀᴅ ᴏғ sᴏᴜʟs ᴛʀᴇᴍʙʟᴇs ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ᴍᴇ, ʏᴇᴛ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜ ɪ ʀᴇǫᴜɪʀᴇ...ᴍᴏʀᴇ. The word struck an impossible bass note that the nobles felt in their throats. ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴜᴛᴛᴇʀʟʏ ᴅᴇᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ, sᴏᴍᴇ ɴᴜᴍʙᴇʀ ᴏғ ʙᴜʀɴɪsʜᴇs ᴀᴡᴀʏ ғʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ sʜᴀᴘᴇs. ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴏᴡ ᴍᴀɴʏ ᴍᴜsᴛ ᴛʜᴏsᴇ ʙᴇ? ᴀ sɪxᴛʜ ᴏғ ᴇᴀᴄʜ, ᴘʀᴏᴠɪᴅᴇᴅ ʙʏ sɪx, ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴀ ᴘᴇʀғᴇᴄᴛ ᴡʜᴏʟᴇ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴇʀɢʏ ɪ ʀᴇǫᴜɪʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴇɴɢᴀɢᴇ sᴜᴄʜ ᴇʀʀᴀᴛɪᴄ ғᴏᴇs. The alien mind touching theirs rippled and inspected their own, seeking for flaws physical, mental and emotional, like a surgeon searching for a cancerous rot.
The older man who had spoken first once again took the helm of the conversation. Those around him, although resolute with their present choice, could do little more than stand firm on account of the awe that had struck them.
"I'm sure that for centuries you have had to deal with the peddling of desperate, yet ultimately selfish, people. Scrambling to you to undo a mistake, or save them from peril or heartbreak, while still being unwilling to give up anything that would truly matter as payment."
He drew a thin breath in through his nose. "So consider this a blank check. Request what you need. Take what you want. Whatever will ensure that the demon we speak of is destroyed forever..."
It felt like he was inscribing the words into a pale slate. The demon’s connection filled his mental pen with indelible ink. He absorbed similar consent from the others, and like poured concrete, the details of their arrangement began to solidify. The strange being from above, nearly close enough to touch yet still shrouded in darkness, seemed to consider the group once more. 
ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ sᴇᴇɴ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪs ʀᴇǫᴜɪʀᴇᴅ, ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴏsᴇ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ᴍᴇ ʟᴀᴄᴋ. ᴏғ ᴛʜɪs, ɪ sʜᴀʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴊᴏɪɴᴅᴇʀ; ᴏғ ᴛʜɪs, ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪʟʟ ʀᴇᴄᴇɪᴠᴇ. 
In a frightening display, five platinum psychedelic arms exploded from the center of the stone being and reached downwards, striking all but the spokesman in the very centers of their beings. They all cried out in various acknowledgements of pain and horror, and the mouthpiece of them all watched as they began to contort and shift. The demon began intoning phrases in grinding Daemon, although the mortals still understood every word.
ᴛʜᴏᴜ ᴏғ ɢʀᴇᴇᴅʏ ʟɪᴘs ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜɪʀsᴛʏ ᴛᴏɴɢᴜᴇ, ᴏғ ᴅʀᴜɴᴋᴇɴ sᴏʀʀᴏᴡ…ᴅʀɪɴᴋ ɴᴏ ᴍᴏʀᴇ. The first clutched at her lower face as the insubstantial hand covered it, as though to smother her. The memories of uncontrollable shivering withdrawals, the comforting grasp of the flask hidden in her coats, the desperation for the cloud of intoxication, all were dredged up through her very soul, and the very power of her dependance and shame seemed to be pulled inward to the creature above that slowly began to descend into the light. Skin began wearing away into solid, inorganic material, the heaviness permeating down through her esophagus and spreading through her failing internal organs. A jaw set awry by a well-placed punch cracked and re-set within the transformation. She dropped her hands from her face, which was now half-made of sandy stone and removed of its mouth, and she scrambled for the very alcohol she had been clinging onto through the beginning of the assault on High Central. It clattered loudly against the table as she threw it from her, the contents spilling across the surface and soaking the books and papers strewn across it. 
ᴛʜᴏᴜ ᴏғ ᴅᴇᴄᴇɪᴛғᴜʟɴᴇss, ᴏғ ʟɪᴇs ᴀɴᴅ ғᴀʟsᴇʜᴏᴏᴅs…ғᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴛʜʏ ʙᴇᴛʀᴀʏᴀʟ. The second gasped shrilly as the hand pushed through his chest, but it did not disappear–it was visible to everyone present. He began to dry-heave, but bile did not spill from his mouth. Instead, he felt the dredges of a half-formed plan splatter across the arm protruding from his very torso. The seeds of a double-cross, unsure of the right time to strike, but full of the resolve to seize the opportunity should it arise. A willingness to backstab every person present should it get him his way. He writhed unnaturally as from the wrist of the demon’s arm, his body began to fill with glistening glass, polished so brightly that one could see through him to the flickering firelight behind, completely transparent. The body of the demon–or its emissary, they were unsure–rested on the table with a resounding thud. It almost resembled some kind of large canopic jar or strange reliquary, carved out of a stone buffed so cleanly it could have been mistaken as steel, with intricate markings, runes and details crammed across its surface in a mesmerizing display. Most notably were the carved faces around its top, blunt masculine features with mouths that stretched all the way down to its base. It was taller than anyone present, and easily as large as a dragon-drawn carriage. Its legs were arched limbs like that of a cathedral, straddling the room’s walls as it settled, the astral arms still fishing for the demon’s named prices.
ᴛʜᴏᴜ ᴏғ ᴍᴀɴɪᴄ sᴜsᴘɪᴄɪᴏɴs, ᴏғ ғᴇᴀʀғᴜʟ ᴘᴀʀᴀɴᴏɪᴀs…ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴛʜʏ ᴇʏᴇs. The third crumpled to her knees, forehead bruising the ground below, and hands gripping the dusty floor in agony as the demon’s hand contorted across her back, each finger piercing a divot into her spine and pushing inwards. With the intense, alien pain came a sudden relief, as new nerve endings began to form across her body. Bloodied, fuzzy images began spilling into her mind, and, beneath each digit, an eye began to form, at first rolling in pain but then blinking wildly and darting around the room, each one moving independently of the other. With the new growths came a surety, a dizzying confidence, that she would never be surprised, that she would never need someone to keep watch for her again. Her form remained prostrate, as though in worship of the power bestowed upon her. The vessel on the table before them began to hum and quake, and the mouths surrounding the structure began to slowly open.
ᴛʜᴏᴜ ᴏғ sʟᴏᴛʜ ᴀɴᴅ sᴇʟғɪsʜɴᴇss, ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴᴀʙɪʟɪᴛʏ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴇʟᴇɢᴀᴛᴇ…ᴇᴍʙʀᴀᴄᴇ ᴘᴏssɪʙɪʟɪᴛʏ. With a wrenching sound, the fourth found his arms pulled forward and then down by another hand, and they both began to split. In the forced movement, he knocked over a lantern across the table, and as it shattered, the flames devoured the spilled alcohol and threw radiance across them all. Like the mysterious carved object in front of them, he too began to grow additional limbs, two more pairs of perfect arms to contrast his own mangled fingers and askew wrists, and all of them began to creak and grind as the same sandstone and glass that overtook his comrades began to spread over his skin. While shedding involuntary tears, he smiled, for now he had hands to serve, and burdens to lighten with the ones standing around him. Freed of his own frenzied responsibilities, he reached forwards with six palms, getting to his feet, at the same time that the others did, drawn to the vessel through which the demon’s voice emanated. The mouths had yawned open to show six dark openings, large enough for a human to stand in, almost gravelike in their appearance.
ᴛʜᴏᴜ ᴏғ ɪɴᴅᴇᴄɪsɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇxɪᴛʏ, ᴏғ ɴᴇᴇᴅʟᴇss ɪɴᴛʀɪᴄᴀᴄɪᴇs…sɪᴍᴘʟɪғʏ ᴛʜʏ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛs. The fifth grabbed at both sides of her head as a single finger pushed through her head, and shrieked as her very mind seemed to be compressed by an otherworldly force. Before, her inner dialogue had raced madly like a hunted rabbit, like a frantic bird escaping its predators. She was computing calculations, comparing outcomes, creating contingencies. It began to slow, weighed down by the demon inside her head. Things became simpler. Words grew short. It was quiet. It was easy. Everything would be fine. Finish the contract. Enter the vessel. Kill the demon. Rest. Forever.
As the fifth joined the rest in moving towards the stone before them, walking through flames without so much as flinching, the demon turned the full weight of its attention to the final man. ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴏᴜ ᴏғ ᴜɴᴀssᴀɪʟᴀʙʟᴇ ᴘʀɪᴅᴇ, ᴏғ ɪᴍᴍᴇᴀsᴜʀᴀʙʟᴇ ᴇxᴘᴇʀɪᴇɴᴄᴇ…ʜᴜᴍʙʟᴇ ᴛʜʏsᴇʟғ. sʜᴏᴡ ᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜʏ ᴇɢᴏ, ʟᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀᴛʜ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀs ᴍᴜsᴛ ᴡᴀʟᴋ. The sixth’s companions slowed, watching him, waiting for him to act. The flames roared higher, lighting the hollow opening that awaited him. 
Even as he was spared, one of those astral hands may have well reached in to rip away the speaker's mind and soul over what he had witnessed.
He stared up at the demon, his breath shallow as its final words etched themselves behind his eyes, and gave the barest shake of his head.
"What else...could the likes of me...possibly do..." The man surrendered. Then, with his eyes still locked in their stunned, hollow gaze, the man pitched forward to let himself be consumed by the shadows.
The five did the same, and the mouths of each crypt began to close, and the oversized jar on the table hummed in satisfaction as the flames raged around it, reflecting brightly off of the beads of molten glass that welled up from its mouth. Red and orange with heat, the molten liquid bubbled stronger and stronger, pouring over the sides, the table, the floor, in impossible amounts, stream and smoke reaching upwards for the cold red moon watching overhead. The translucent mounds began to shift and writhe, like a newly-born infant trying to escape its amniotic sac.
ɪғ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴍʏ sɪsᴛᴇʀ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡɪᴛɴᴇss ᴛʜᴇ ᴠɪᴛʀɪғɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ʜᴇʀ ᴘʀᴏɢᴇɴʏ.