Zeya attempts to open the barrier

Can Zeya channel the power of the staff to open the way?

Yes/No (Likely): [6,1] Yes, but… the flow of the Daemonic magic proves somewhat overstimulating

—

Zeyariel makes for the barrier, the staff of Reculus under one arm. As she nears it, she shrugs off her pack. Slipping the ring of translation onto her finger, and holding the staff aloft. She digs her heels into the soft terrain, eyes fixed on the swirling pattern of runes before her.

Distantly, she can hear the sounds of metal clashing, and Lavorra scuffling with the Daemons. But she keeps her focus, and finds the world slipping away as she wills the magic of the staff and ring to take effect. The runes shift before her eyes, the surface of the purple barrier coming alive with words that she understands.

The barrier wobbles, the staff unbinding its arcane locks, but she feels something within her shift.

A burst of magical energy hits the staff like a lightening rod, crashing over her. The barrier begins to peel back, revealing a scorched path into the Delwald, but she can feel heat and power coursing through her.

Her feet lift off the ground, and she writhes, gripping the staff for her life, as her body convulses. She feels something groping, something wicked, travelling over her skin, caressing her roughly. Her lips part in a silent scream, and invisible, intangible energy flows inside her.

She feels full. Filled. Daemonic energy coursing and thrusting inside her, into her mouth, between her leg, forcing its way inside her rear. The **** is consuming and oddly completing, her body reacting with an almost painfully intense wave of pleasure, as it feels as though an entire army of souls have their way with her. She shuts her eyes tight, and can almost taste the penetrating entities, thrusting forcefully into her holes.

Zeya shudders, feeling her soul rock with incorporeal climaxes, her spirit opening not just to the Daemonic ****, but to a magical awakening. Her hands grip the staff, and it feels warm and firm in her hands. Power like sexual release flows into her, filling her throat, her womb, her ass.

She raises the staff into the air with her, and gasping, slams it back to earth.

She follows it, as the energy dissipates in an instant.

Gods below. That was a Hell of a thing.

Hell. Heh.

Try as she might, the humour doesn’t quite ring true. This will take some getting used to.

Zeya gathers herself on the ground, shivering, using the staff to clambering back to her feet, even as her thighs shake helplessly. She looks up sluggishly, body still rippling with the afterglow of the magical forces that took her, and still linger within, and sees Lavorra headed her way, looking a little worse for wear herself.