Tyroden sighed disappointedly, like a child who had his toy taken away, when his spell burst apart the squid like overripe fruit. His mournful frown was replaced by a grin of exhilaration when he saw that the skysquid had reformed into smaller versions of itself. Yes. More to rip and tear. More to destroy. More flesh to savor. 

“ You!” Tyroden pointed a finger towards one tiny sky squid. “ You think you can escape the wrath of - “ 

That was when the explosion hit him. It felt as though the ground had crumbled beneath his feet, the wind knocked out of his sails as he landed on the grass. Instead of one singular pixie dictator puppet, it was five different finger puppets that stood up. The Penta Posse had seized control of Nick Nack's platypus thrall who was now limping along. 

“ Enough grandstanding from the warlord.” One of the fingers proudly announced. “ It’s now my time to shine.”

The clouds darkened as the platypus raised both of his hands in a T-pose. The five fingers began contorting and twisting into odd shapes and symbols, an eldritch language erupting forth from the platypus bard's maw. 

“ I cast Ritual of the King! Arise from the pits of the Potato Planes! Arise the Bane, The Hamburglar of the Infernal Fryer!”

There was a crackle of aetheric energy surrounding the pentagram. The smell of corn syrup and artery clogging death suffused the air, the walls of reality began to crumble around them deliciously. An enormously large hand the size of a Arobrean mountain giant pushed through the crack, widening it open. Mailed in hamburger meat, the hand clawed its way through and stepped into the material realm, a head that suspiciously looked like a large chicken nugget poking through. Whatever the Penta Posse had casted, it was something nightmarish indeed, something to spook the minds of elvish vegans and dietary professionals alike.

Well, it was horrifying for five seconds. The opening quavered in place for a moment, the energy emanating from it carving trenches into the pastoral landscape. Like a blooper reel, it then collasped on itself, just as the torso of the Hamburglar was beginning to emerge. A brackish spray of jaundiced blood soaked the soil, the Hamburglar crying out in sheer agony. Its guts were strewn about, distended from its bisected torso. Instead of a monument to the sins of fast food, it was an abortion of high cholesterol proportions. It looked towards Clara and raised a meaty hand towards her in a begging motion, pleading with her. 

“ K-kkiilll…...me……...please…….” it warbled, coughing out globs of fry oil. Meanwhile, the Penta Posse stood in silence before one of them spoke out. 

“ Bob, did you forget to charge your mana this morning?!”

"YOU IDIOT!" The index finger glared at the thumb. " LOOK AT HIM! LOOK! How is this supposed to inspire fear into our opponents." 

“Ah, never mind that.” The Penta Posse strode over to the twitching and wracking body of the dying Hamburglar, taking cover underneath his body, the stench of ketchup and soggy french fries suffusing the air. They then shouted towards both the ratfolk and the necromancer. " we'll be taking cover under him if you don't mind! If you want to get hit by the next volley, be our guest!"