Rave for Phoebus (the character, not me, that would be weird) being my go-to subject whenever I think, "I feel like making a dumb 2 frame animation". This time's result:

BUT WHERE IS ALL THE DARAIUS FANART

#1 Estarra: 09/02 02:48 "Sorry for a late response on your issue. Let me know the # of the mine in
your manse and I'll change it (remind me which one you wanted)"
#2 Estarra: 09/02 04:47 "Your mine was updated!"

I don't post much but I want to throw out a Rave to Estarra. Much much love for the Creatrix. You rock!!

With passion and eloquence, you urge an enslaved, marbled geomycus to rise up and revolt against the
establishment, ensuring her that Gaudiguch will protect her from any recrimination.
An enslaved, marbled geomycus slaps her knee and declares that, by the gods, the Village of Ixthiaxa
should follow the Province of Gaudiguch after all!
Shouts rise up from the Village of Ixthiaxa, as its denizens loudly pledge themselves to the
Province of Gaudiguch.

You have completed the Necromentate's final task!
Silvanus rushes off, as if called by the some distant sound.
The thunderous call of the Necromentate pierces your mind, and you cannot help but answer the call. You travel fluidly across the Basin of Life, almost unaware of your travels. Before you know it, you stand before the Necromentate.
The Pit of the Necromentate.

The Horn of Urlach is blown, and an ominous, dark note reverberates across the land from the middle of the Inner Sea.

As the Horn of Urlach's sound rises up throughout the Basin of Life, its peal grows in strength and volume.

Distant forms begin to rise up from Spectre Isle and Shallach, wavering and insubstantial as they struggle fitfully in the skies above.

As if dragged by invisible bonds, the spectres, spirits and undead wail violently, some in protest others in ecstasy, as they are slowly funneled toward the tainted city of Magnagora.

With a horrendous sound, the undead are funneled, slowly at first and then at a rapid speed, into the tainted miasma that surrounds the city, disappearing. Soon, their wailing ceases.

Great flurries of spectres and undead go shrieking past you, clawing and grabbing at you in passing as if looking for some safe purchase. Soon their wailings silence, as the last of them are sucked beneath the city.

The Necromentate opens his mouth as a great host of spectres and undead come flying in from nearby, shrieking and wailing in protest. Several grab onto you, which you bat away compulsively. One by one they are consumed by the Necromentate - then, two by two, and soon it is in uncountable masses as the wailing forms race by, each indiscernible from the next.

As the last of the spectres pass, the Necromentate's tentacles whip up suddenly, lashing about.

The Necromentate's tentacles lash out, grasping ahold of you, yanking you angrily into the pit with it.

With a hungry, terrible roar the Necromentate shoves you into his mouth, and all goes dark. After long moments, your surroundings flicker into existence, completely insubstantial yet vaguely familiar.
Within the Infernal Machine.

As your vision clears, you find yourself within a horrific machine of flesh and blood. Grasped within your hand is an iron key, its demonic skull handle grinning up at you.
The Iron Key to the Infernal Machine materialises in your hands.