He was right, and he took no pleasure in being right either.

These creatures, no longer merely wretched organisms twisted by inhuman experiments alone, lumbered towards them, Augusta’s light affording the group a clear look at their dismal appearance. Consumed by aspects of vegetation, from thorns to roots, they were armed from head to toe, most likely possessed by the same sort of suicidal madness that the creatures aboveground were. Against methheads, Isidore had always preferred the comfort of a well-maintained handgun, but dancing in the dark, he’d have to make do with just a sword.

One charged at him with swiftness surpassing any other, and he released his hold on Octavia’s chain, allowing the pup to do as she saw fit. He coiled his legs, timed its speed, cleared his mind, and sprung into action. The ancient sword flashed out as Isidore surged forwards, striking the creature’s thorn-studded arm. If it cut through cleanly, he would reverse his grip and ram the sword into the creature’s face next, hopefully killing it instantly.

Isidore released Octavia, allowing the pup to do as she wished. He focused entirely on the creature in front of him. The creature hissed, black blood spilling from the cut as the blade only made it halfway into its target, its skin almost acting as a sort of natural armor almost. The creature followed up with its own blade, slicing into Isidore's shoulder.

Yet, Isidore felt no pain. Only a mild discomfort as the color of his skin around the wound turned black, stopping the blade from cutting more than a few centimeters into its target.

One hour left, starting from now.

With the momentum of his sword stopped, there was no longer any way for Isidore to cleave through it, so he sliced it out instead, black blood flicking off the freed sword. His left arm, covered in links of chain, swung out to bludgeon the monster’s own uninjured arm away, rusted metal cracking against wood and thorn to clear up a path. If his body had adapted to the attacks of this creature, then fine.

Right foot stomping onto the monster’s own foot to prevent escape, the dark-haired youth with the shining eyes thrust his sword towards the monster’s chest, right below where the solar plexus of a human was, and drew in a sharp breath of the cloying, salty stench as he forced his energies into the length of the blade.

When he had first stabbed someone, their blood ran hot on his hands. As hot as fire.

[b]“Burn.”[/b]

And in that instant, he colored the blue of his soul with the red of anger, fear, and hunger, wishing to immolate this ugly beast from inside out.

The creature seemed utterly helpless against Isidore's brutal assault. It attempted to entangle his arm with its, but it proved useless as Isidore's foot slammed onto its. The creature hissed, growling in pain as its foot was crushed beneath Isidore's weight, but before it could react ancient steel pierced the rotten flesh.

A moment of perhaps, poetic silence followed.

A horrible shriek ended it, as Isidore's fury turned his blade red hot, flames burning along the blade for only a moment. The monstrosity's body jerked, the sickeningly salty sweet air was tinged with that of burning flesh and foliage as its body lit up form the inside, burning alive, inside out as it weekly lashed out at Isidore, until all at once it ceased, slowly burning to ash.
    
Don gritted his teeth as adrenaline surged through his veins, and fury burned in his heart.  Whatever these monstrosities were, they used to be human-- or something close to human. If this mass of tar and vines made it past the guardian and escaped… There was no telling what might happen. [Color=lightgreen]"Augusta! Take care o' tha one in th' back-- aye got this un!"[/color]

Don brought his shield to bear as he moved to intercept the creature charging at the elven woman.  How hardy these creatures were had yet to be seen, and if these things propagated like he suspected; through some sort of parasitic invasion, now was the wrong time to risk not killing them in a single strike.  Even if he'd had his doubts initially, it was clear to Donovan that the strange star-serpent symbol was more than just a logo. It didn't just exist as a representation of whatever organization had once controlled this ruin, it was a symbol that invoked [b]power[/b]. What kind of power; Don had no idea, but it was clearly something that directly opposed the hellish garden that sought  escape from its prison. 

The symbol of his star-serpent emblem at the forefront of his mind's eye, Donovan poured magical energies into his shield as he rushed the oncoming creature. The moment his shield would slam into the mutant, is the moment Don would drive the gathered power [b]out[/b], intent on blasting this abomination off the side of the walkway and into the abyss below.

Deciding to put his faith in this emblem he found. Curious, how was he so certain that the emblem held any divine power? Augusta had said it was enchanted, but divine? Or was it because of the similar markings on the door leading to this place? Either way, he would soon find the fruits of such an action.

He gathered the power in his shield, using the image of the emblem as a catalyst for channeling it. The creature didn't seem to react as it was intercepted, likely not caring so long as it had a target. Its swiftness however, would be its downfall. It slammed into Donovan's shield, hard enough to cause his muscles to strain from the impact.

The power released.

For a moment Donovan swore he heard the ticking of a clock as time seemed to slow for just a fraction of a second for him. Was it adrenaline? Or something else? He could see it clearly – a wave of almost invisible energy slamming into the creature before knocking it cleanly towards the edge of the walkway, and careening towards the edge...only to have a large root grow from under the walkway, curving upwards and stopping the creature before it could fall over the edge.

It jerked back to its feet, not seeming too injured...but it didn’t move towards Donovan. It seemed...cautious?

Don paused for half a moment, his eyes wide as he marveled at what he'd just witnessed. Had focusing on the symbol altered time itself? If such a thing was true-- that had to mean he'd just tapped into something of likely [b]divine[/b] power. As much as he wanted to explore the possibilities this discovery opened up, there was still an impending threat that needed to be taken care of.

The man's eyes narrowed at the thrall, taking note of its ability to somehow call upon the already existing vines to aid it.  From its tattered remains of clothing, and less sickly appearance; this had to have been a normal human when it was enthralled, unlike the malformed creatures the group had encountered higher up in the prison. Its seemingly cautious attitude didnt escape Don's notice either. If it could act cautiously, that meant it could still [b]think[/b]. If it could [b]think[/b], it could [b]plan[/b]. [Color=lightgreen]"Sly little bastard, ain't ya?"[/color] 

If the size of the vine was anything to go off of,  there were likely far more at the edge of the walkway, and the thrall was probably trying to bait him into their reach. He needed to finish  this thing off from range, and Don knew just the thing to do it with. 

[Color=lightgreen]"At th' beginnin' uh time-"[/color] Don began as the power within him began to stir once more, [Color=lightgreen]"-there was only tha void."[/color]  Reaching up, he yanked his emerald broach free from his neck, before pulling the star-serpent emblem from his pocket.  [Color=lightgreen]"And from within tha void-"[/color] Donavan calmly bound the emblem to the handle of his weapon with the thin cordage of his broach, [color=lightgreen]"-all uh realiteh burst forth."[/color] Don readied a swing of his warhammer, the strange magical power within him ramping intensity with every syllable that left his lips.  [Color=lightgreen]"Heat, gas, and dust gathered in its wake- "[/color]  power surged forth; focused through the emblem and hammer as Donovan swang in a wide arc, [color=lightgreen]"AN THA' STARS WERE BORN!"[/color]

Perhaps he was messing with something he would be better off not knowing. After all, who was to say this divinity, if it was that, was even benevolent or sympathetic. Perhaps though, he hadn't much of a choice were he to leave here unscathed. The same power he felt before began gathering in the hammer, pulling as much as he could from the Emblem and began chanting.

The creature however, much as Donovan surmised seemed to know he was doing something. Before even the second verse left his lips it began charging towards him, intent to try and silence him before he could finish his incantation. Donovan would barely have a moment to register the head of his hammer lighting up, bright as the stars he had just invoked. The creature leaped...and had its body slammed right into Donovan's hammer.

There was a flash of light, the sound of what seemed to be the sound of perhaps a loud gong. The creature was knocked backwards, a sickening crack heard as whatever bones in its body were broken from the impact. As it hit the ground, it did not move. Noticeably, the foliage on the creature's body began to shrivel and wither, the flower that had replaced its head rapidly seeming to die.

Augusta’s heart was racing some as the creature launched itself at her.  Being able to fully see the creature’s features was something else to be sure.  They seemed rather normal. Or, some did at least.  She was glad when Donovan intercepted it and told her to take care of another one.  “Fine. If you insist~  These things are called ‘Garden Thralls’.  Similar Physical Strength, burns easily.”  The Elven woman mentioned before stepping back to take aim at the one Donovan had asked her to handle.

Well.  She had inflicted a Magic Missile. Created a Mage Light.  Maybe that means she could do a bit more.  These things were easily burnable right?  Perhaps she could make a firebolt.  She nodded to herself and took aim.  She focused the magic in her hand like she did for the magic missile.  But to make it fire…  Make it hot?  High heat.  Basically feeds on oxygen… Something of the sort?  Heat is just energy right? That’s what she learned in her schooling at least.  So… Put a high amount of magical energy into a small area and maybe that would work?  She fired what she thought was the proper calculation (a huge guess) and fired it at the monstrosity in her sights.

At the same time, Augusta channeled her magic, drawing on some earth principles to help speed the process along. Fire was hot, right? And in physics, the more energy something had, the hotter it became. In theory, perhaps that would apply here as well. She drew upon more energy, focusing it briefly in her hand and – a small fireball flickered into existence, sailing towards the same creature in the back.

The fireball slammed into it before it could get whatever was building up in its head out. It shrieked, a loud, painful wail as the flower on its head burned to ash. The creature in question started burning, small embers falling onto the grass below it, setting its sight on Augusta. In a pained frenzy, waving its arms and blades erratically it began charging towards the elf, only to be intercepted by Octavia. She once again latched onto the creatures ankle, pulling its feet completely out from under it.

“Good girl, Octavia.”  Augusta mentioned as she smirked and aimed her hand at the Garden Thrall’s head.  This time, she blasted a Magic Missile at the thing’s head, hoping that would end it.  She wondered to herself, though.  The goddess note mentioned something about “questionable intelligence” so perhaps…  There was some.  Or perhaps it was the garden.  “You guys, know what?  Perhaps we should burn this whole garden down if they’re as easily flammable as this flower on this Thrall’s head.”  She mentioned aloud to her comrades as she started to ignite a fire in her hand and tossing it on the same thrall.

The bolt slammed into the thrall, the creature thrashed only a few more moments before falling lifeless.

By now though, the commotion seemed to have attracted other thralls that had been inside the garden. Isidore could see them easily, shambling their way over to their location. It was quite likely once they had spotted the group, they would swarm like these three had.

The pup, however, did not seem bothered and merely continued trotting towards the flower. The massive flower in the back seemed to sway in an unfelt breeze.

Isidore stepped away from the fuming corpse, black blood sizzling still on the flat of his sword. As the rush of adrenaline faded, he began to feel that dull ache on his shoulder. Less pain than he’d have expected from such a cut, but perhaps that too was a sign of a different body than what he once had. The others too, had finished their tasks, though their work was about as loud as can be expected. His gaze briefly fell upon Donovan’s hammer, the celestial light just about faded from its head, before turning upon the garden. This attack would not go unanswered; it was time to continue.

[b]“They’ve heard us, but not seen us,”[/b] Isidore said, his tone as measured as always. [b]“Let’s continue. Quickly and quietly. Donovan, cover the back. Augusta, stay center.”[/b]

He continued down the pathway again at a clipped pace. The great flower beckoned, and now that fire was something that could be made manifest from one’s soul, Isidore was feeling...diplomatic.

Augusta wanted to protest them leaving, but the small horde of thralls kept her lips sealed.  If they were “black-blooded” like her eyes told her…  Then they and Octavia were related.  The hellhound would likely be safe enough though Augusta was loath to leave in this manner.  Perhaps she should just try burning all these thralls, but the time was past with Isidore making his way out.  She followed behind Isidore, not wanting to have to fight more of those by herself.

The path forwards led around the garden and towards the beautiful yet baleful flower. As they neared it, its giant roots retreated, lifting from the ground and coiling into an archway. An open door. An invitation into the garden's heart. The flower loomed above, the remnants of a stone walkway beneath overgrown with the gardens grass. The sweet smell was strongest, and the purest here. Intoxicating, almost, as was the beauty of the flower itself.

A pool of black tar collected in the center of the small courtyard area, the source of this garden in all likelihood. Tar slowly dripped down the plants stalk from its unbloomed flower. A large slab of stone had impaled it through its stalk, from the ceiling to the ground below, ensuring it was unable to move easily. Another flower bulb closed tight was situated at the base of the slab, leaking more of that blackened tar into the pool in large quantity. Octavia moved towards it, pawing and attempting biting it.

A quick look into the garden, would show the thralls slowly converging on the spot they had previously been, but having apparently taken note of their fallen allies, perhaps, they had started to spread out, some heading towards their position.

[hider=Goddess Note]
Classification: ---------- Nursery
Physical Attributes:
    Stronger than you
Magic Attributes:
    N/A
Weakness:
    Fire
    Divine purification
Abilities:
    Incubator
        Able to birth countless demons to defend itself.
Special attributes:
    Grave garden
        An ancient being was executed and their body interred here. A garden foul garden sprang from their corpse.
    Shackled.
Ancient seals keep the garden from spreading too far above. Yet its roots seem to extend down nearly infinitely even into the depths of the ocean.
What would first appear to be a flower to the untrained or uneducated, is in fact a sentient, living plant like demon. Within its body and roots flows thick tar which it spreads in an area to take root, thus making a 'garden' where it proliferates and births demons like itself. An incubator that grows, breeds, and revives demons of its family.
Limited intelligence. Usually docile and inactive except in cases of self-defense where it will call thralls to aid it.
[/hider]

“This garden is a bit of an inconvenience.”  Augusta mentioned, looking at the information her eye gave about it.  “Bright side is, even if we left it be, it shouldn’t prove a threat outside this chamber.”  The elven woman mentioned aloud.  “A demon of limited intelligence, it says.  Shackled and it’s roots dig deep.  It’s probably not leaving here. For now, at least.”  Augusta mentioned, looking over the plant-like demon. If it were sealed here, either it was to keep it from harming things or it was for an experiment. Considering the rest of this place so far it was hard to tell.  It seemed like it’d be easy to off, though if the roots were as deep as the text implied it might be rather difficult.

[b]“Hrm.”[/b] Not a plant then, but a parasite, one that drew in the wretched creatures to take control of them. Isidore’s eyes slide towards Octavia, who had so early rushed into the courtyard of the demon-plant to gnaw at the flower bud. One similar to the tar-plant that had birthed her.

Interesting.

Furrowing his brow against the sticky-sweetness of the flower, Isidore strode through the archway and into the courtyard. Whether Octavia had been bait to lead them into such a trap as this was irrelevant; if the flower was just here to kill them, there was much more that it could have done before they got this close. And if it thought to change them...well, he wasn’t human to begin with, and he wasn’t supposed to be alive either. In a world such as this, with a sunless sky and abominations dwelling beneath the Earth, with a body many times improved from his past life, he would live as he wished, claiming what he required.

[b]“Donovan, I won’t die before the hour ends. Protect Augusta.”[/b] Isidore turned his gaze upwards, to that beautiful, yet baleful flower dripping black tar from above. The stench reminded him of those Amazonian plants, sating carnivorous appetites by drawing in flies with the smell of rotting fruit.[b]“Now, let’s talk.”[/b]