[center][h3][color=ff9900]Týfurkh[/color][/h3][/center]

[color=ff9900]"If everything works well you won't have to take them down!"[/color] Týfurkh shouted, although his voice was seriously muffled whenever not directly speaking through one of the holes Chres had deliberately left open. These... heat constructs... were one damn handy thing to have, that was for sure, and Týfurkh couldn't help but secretly admire the man who was able to weave them with such accuracy despite massive repetition again and again.

Not that anybody else in the party had lacked their skill or not proven to be of great benefit for them all so far. The question was: Would he be in the end, too ? All he could do was work on it! Týfurkh started moving his mouth, his colossal chest greedily consuming the air around him so he could let it pass through his vocal chords to form an invisible trap. Or was it even invisible to the sightless ? Maybe not, but Týfurkh could not care less at this point for it would still need the sightless to actually find out that 'it' would be able to prematurely trigger the spell by moving one of the tentacles into it, which in turn however would also mean that said tentacle would no longer be available for going after anybody else while being busy preventing another buildup to an explosion. So in any case they would win, would they ?

Týfurkh's hope was that the sightless indeed was not able to see what was going over its 'head' in the first place however, and the chance of any tentacle accidentally triggering the spell was pretty low for he had placed it not directly as deep in the hole as possible from his position, but on the contrary directly below the ceiling. The plan was for the shockwave to be reflected downwards by the massive stone and then having nowhere to go down in the hole, forcing any of its contents to go up sideways and upwards.

Yes, it was a very veritable mess he was approving. There were quite a few dead bodies down in that pit and these might come up as well, but what was the alternative ? Going into melee they'd have to even step onto them anyway!

Time almost seemed to slow down for Týfurkh despite the fact that no temporal magic was involved for certain. The moving tentacles started to blur in his vision more and more, their various impacts became less and less distinguishable from each other in his ears as he transferred as much of his mental capacity as he could onto weaving the trap. Maybe not having participated in the previous fight now would even pay off a bit, even if completely unintentionally, because he was not tired yet.

Ready! Týfurkh now just neeeded to set the thing off himself and the perfect tool for this was his crossbow and one of the holes in the shield to shoot through. He aimed at the ceiling knowing that he was going to blast through an invisible beehive full of what was basically sound beyond a deafening intensity.

[color=ff9900]"Cover!"[/color] he yelled, then pulled the trigger.