Balon could do little save roar in defiance as he suddenly was stopped in his fall, swept up, promptly wedges and crushed between some rocks in the ceiling of the tunnel, and then left as a feast for the strange eel creatures. The pressure of the rocks was cracking his huge suit of bronze armor, and was enough to make breathing nearly impossible. Fortunately, Balon was not unlike Xir'ain in that breathing was unnecessary. Balon's armor was soon reduced to little more than chunks of scrap metal as the runners tore at it, much to the giant's chagrin. It had taken a throng of enslaved blacksmiths, months of time, and wagons laden with ores in order to forge the armor. Replacing it would be nigh impossible, assuming that he even made it out of this hellish abyss alive.

Balon could sense what the runners were doing from the disturbances they left in the water; by using their tails to hack at his body and then quickly darting back, they no doubt hoped to avoid his blood and not be moldered away by the plague. It was no matter, the old king would at least avenge himself against those worms, if not the sea-witch and the oily, black fluid that seemed to control her. Using his tremendous strength to squirm between the rocks, Balon was able to free a single arm before the slabs of stone adjusted themselves. The stones tightened even more than before as punishment, but the giant paid that little heed.

His thrashing driving the runners into even more of a frenzy, they all drew close. Balon moved his arm in a swirling motion, grimacing in pain as the creatures lashed out at it. He then muttered a few words, not at the instruction of whatever wretched thing had trapped him, but as part of a repugnant spell. The runners would have a brief second of warning, as the water in the tunnel suddenly had a revolting taste. Then, vile fluids swirled outwards from the giant's hand and began to diffuse outward.

Balon had expected his magic to have converted the entire tunnel in a river of plague-infested water, but something resisted him. It was with great difficulty that Balon managed to wrap the plague around his own body and stave off the runners, since the very water itself seemed to oppose his will. This dark abyss was undeniably the domain of another, completely subject to its whims, as evidenced by the rocks that trapped Balon. The giant's bones were now beginning to feel the strain of the pressure. Infuriated at how for once, he couldn't simply smash his way through and overpower a tiny enemy, Balon thundered, [b]"RELEASE ME!"[/b]

The giant had half a thought to try using his magic to summon a water current to pick up his dropped spear and drive it through the sea witch, but Enly'air was now motionless. With all three of his eyes blinded, Balon couldn't tell where the inky monster or the female had gone, and flying his spear around would be worthless. So he focused his energy on struggling to maintain the plague that staved off the runners. What serendipity- escaping from one black chasm under the sea, only to wind up in a different one, this time full of ravenous monsters and some dignified blob of waste that demanded Balon show his 'intelligence'.