[center][h1][color=red][u]G R A V E S[/u][/color][/h1][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][hr][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent]  • Tʜᴇ Dᴜɴɢᴇᴏɴ • [/center][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][hr][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent]

The party rallied, tearing the initiative away from their attackers as they pressed forward for the first time since the battle begin. They had a plan of attack now; no longer were they simply reacting to the encroaching mob. Graves led the frontline forward, sweeping his halberd through the teeming mass of frozen gelatin. It's flaming ax-head made quick work of individual slimes. Yet for each one the tank cut down, it seemed like two more rose up to take it's place.

Graves felt like his muscles were on fire. He threw his strength behind every harrowing swing, his mind occupied only by the unflinching desire to get the [i]hell[/i] out of that death trap. He knew what was at stake- they all did. Death here was no longer a simple inconvenience, but the end of everything. He could give no less than his all.

Even still, he could feel himself slowing. He made less progress with every step. His polearm swung with less and less force each time the digital warrior swept it forward. Muscles cramped and fatigue's deadly venom began to creep ever so slowly into his veins.

Luckily for the brutish tank, he was not alone in this fight.

Assistance came in a call of his name from the fiddle-wielding necrobard. Tiferet's magical music changed it's tune from the precise, elegant and swift [i]Kronos[/i] to something...stranger. A swing band of all things began to echo from that damnable device of hers. Quick, powerful, yet utterly chaotic.

The buff hit Graves full-force like a baseball to the forehead.

Every inch of his body was shot full of a pulsating, electric energy. The strength that filled his taut muscles would've been appreciated, if not for the buckets upon buckets of itching powder he felt slipping in every pore, crack and crevice. [color=red]"I do [b]NOT[/b] like this song!"[/color] The giant howled.

He poured his irritation into every swing of his weapon that followed.

Energized hands spun the polearm about with surprising dexterity for a man of his size. He spun in his advance, dragging the ax along the sea of gushing slimes from side to side. Great, sweeping brushes preceded each forward step from the titan. Graves set the pace for the other frontliners to follow in the stead of his violent march.

All about him, the rest of the party worked to clear the path toward their chosen exit. Landon and Redsky's combined arms attack washed the enemy in searing malice, burning away a mass of gathered monsters on the ceiling as well as directly in front of them. That burning swath of dead made for an easy push for Graves, Ochre and Rael- they merely had to make sure the rest of the slimes didn't fill in the way in place of their dozens of dead.

[color=red]"Move! Move!"[/color] Landon and Sky's opening wouldn't last long. They had done little to stem the overwhelming tide of creatures still filling the chamber, even with the stream of fallen they trod over; it would not be long before the frost slimes managed to overwhelm them if they did not escape in short order.

Graves reached the other end of the room, his shoulder slamming hard against the gate as he came to a sliding halt. The floor was horrifically slick from squashed slime corpses spilling their innards across the frosty stone. [color=red]"Through the door, now! Fucking hurry!"[/color] From where he stood, the bloodied tank could see the ooze creatures massing at the back of the party. They were flooding forward like a singular, conjoined wave. It was a slow, sticky wave, mind you; but it wasn't something Graves would want to be caught under.

He remained outside the gate, half to keep the monsters back and half to catch anyone that might (understandably) fall thanks the messy ground. 

Once the last person was through, Graves slipped in behind them, planting his feet on the stone. [color=red]"Get this shit shut before they get through!"[/color] He barked, his halberd clattering to the floor as he lifted both of his palms up to the gate. Graves pushed with all of his might, forcing the creaking mass to move for likely the first time since it's creation. It took no small amount of effort, but the ooze slipping in between the two great doors was all the motivation the tank needed to continue.

Like a clap of thunder the doors were forced together, and the threshold closed off. A batch of slime attempting to wiggle through was cut in twain by the shutting of the gate, and silence fell over the creeping halls of the crypt once more.

Graves stumbled backward, his back hitting the wall as he slid down onto his rear with a loosed sigh. When he leaned back, the telltale [i]shlick[/i] of something cool and sticky drew his eyes to the little beast still clinging unknowingly to his shoulder. [color=red]"Fuckin' hate these things."[/color] He snarled, tearing it off and throwing it away. If it weren't for the stacking cold resistances thrown on him by his supporting allies, that creature might've taken an arm off if the bounty hunter's luck had continued the usual downward trend.

[color=red]"Anybody dead yet?"[/color]