His nose crunched up once more as the sweetness intensified, but Isidore grabbed the massive seed anyways, pocketing it. More of an egg than a seed, from his reckoning; even the great oaks back home sprung into life from something much smaller. He turned to the others, tilted his head in the direction of the exit, and strode off.
Forty five minutes left at this point. He’d have to make use of it while he could.
Tendrils and vines snaked upwards, the chambers and staircase rumbling as the demon flower moved to honor its part of the deal. With its child in tow, it had no recourse but to obey, after all, even if that meant challenging the warden that kept it locked in here. And as for Nick...through the enhanced eyesight that his own energies provided him, Isidore didn’t catch any sign of the brunette’s corpse amongst the five shambling monsters that laid ahead. More thralls of the garden, perhaps? The flower really didn’t keep its children well-disciplined.
He breathed in, but this time, only so he could speak.
“Augusta, Donovan, keep running. I’ll catch up.”
Those plant-like blades had been potent once, but now that his death-defying will was made manifest, it would no longer harm him. Not to the extent where he needed to play as safe as he did before. Not to the extent where the others will have to assist him in the slaughter.
Bringing his blade up, Isidore drew his left palm against the ancient edge, the ice-hot kiss of a cut further bolstering his armor’s defenses as scarlet stained the arming sword. That scarlet turned a bright red, then burst to flame after, infused with the crackling heat of his soul. A sword of fire, straight out of fiction. What would his wife think, if she saw her husband gallivanting like this?
Probably yell at him for inflicting such a pointless injury.
Mirth flickered, then faded, the cold calm settling back on his features.
And then, Isidore launched himself, a flurry of flame and steel, his armored forearm concerned only with protecting his vital organs as he slashed at the parasitized experiments.
Virtual mana veins fired up within Amulak’s body again, shearing away only a small portion of the reservoir that now made up his mana pool. Directing it upwards, he crafted a spear of arcane energies above the centipede woman’s midsection and dropped it down. The earth itself cracked from the force of the magical attack, the feedback of that sensation of ‘release’ sending shivers up the mage’s arms. He could see clearly as those same energies seeped through the centipede woman’s exoskeleton and into her own veins, working to paralyze her body. But her body was long, and her feet were many. Even as six of them twitched, unmoved, ninety-four of them still propelled her towards Raime.
The ranger was not her meal for tonight though. Muscular, stocky men had stringy, tough flesh; from experience, the centipede women knew that it was Immortal women, their bodies sculpted to perfection within the Upper Realms, who held the tastiest flesh.
Raime’s reflexes and speed, a single step faster than the monstrous woman before him, afforded him the ability to narrowly avoid getting gored by her over-sized teeth. Half his body collided with her boulder-hard cheekbone instead, and his physical resilience was unable to withstand such tremendous force. Launched ten meters, he crashed into the branches of a thorny bramble, chest heaving but lungs painfully unable to draw in air as his health dropped by another 57 HP.
And Ari, for all her speed, found herself arrested all of a sudden by something warm, something wet. The centipede woman’s split tongue wrapped itself around her arm, her blackened eyes narrowed into sadistic slits as her mouth opened wider and wider. There were teeth inside too. Lining the roof of her mouth, the throat, the uvula, the esophagus. Pinkish flesh, pulsating in anticipation.
With a shlurp, the tongue retracted, and the cat girl was pulled towards that gaping maw. @Psyker Landshark@Cu Chulainn@Searat@GreenGoat Certainly, it was a bold move, stepping out to the open and breaking out into dance. At the very least though, Magpie didn’t dance poorly. Her accelerated sense of time hadn’t yet kicked in, but her control over her body was on point as her forearms flicked in and out, as her body gyrated like a blender, as her feet went fast against the ground.
Throughout her entire dance, the three oni watched, their expressions unreadable to a human. But as she settled down, the blue one rose up. He slapped his belly once, drained the last of whatever noxious alcohol was in his flask, and then spewed it out into a fine mist above him. Raising his hands upwards, he allowed himself to be purified in the spirits, before raising one leg straight up. Skywards.
BOOM.
His foot struck the ground like lightning, a shockwave that blew Magpie’s hair back. Behind the tree, Ames had to cover his own ankle bell, lest they chime in the wake of thunder. The two red oni beside him bared their teeth, still bloodied from the meal they partook in, as the blue one’s hands clenched into fists that could shatter mountains.
Silence suffused the space.
His fists swung out to one side. His arms and shoulders began to rotate.
His fists swung out to the other side. His arms and shoulders rotated even faster.
He raised them upwards again, sliding sideways as both booty and belly jiggled in a blur of movement.
But, like any horror movie, it was always the buff ones who professed that they had no fear of the monster that chased them. The ones who took the fight to the monster. The ones who died, if not first, then certainly second. Perhaps the mountain man had drowned himself in his fears so much that he had missed out on that particular trope.
Regardless, in deciding to press the attack, he had lost his opportunity to escape.
You make crafting this nightmare so easy…
The giggling of children sounded in the boughs of the blooming tree as the Brutal Cleaver drove itself deep into the tree’s trunk, a force that shook some of the petals loose. They fell down, the kiss of their forms against his skin gentle and warm, before dissolving soon after. The sap that seeped out from the tree was a dark green, while the crick-crackling of the roots behind him alerted Klein to the fact that a fence of thick roots now enclosed him in close combat with the tree.
A tree that continued to bloom and shed these pink petals.
His health had yet to fall, but something else did in its place. @Shovel
Isidore did not turn his gaze from the flower bud up above, even with the flurry of violence and the deathly voice that emanated from the corpse. Perhaps it was a pointless display of fearlessness to such an alien creature, but his old habits died hard. In the face of danger, he cooled down as others tensed up. The man kept a tight grip on his sword, kept an eye on his surroundings, and then spoke up, bold and clear.
“What can you offer us in return?”
“Speak...difficult. You want...away. We know out. Lead. Or...reestrain the stone.”
Its disjointed speaking was likely hard to follow. Perhaps it was proposing it knew a way out, or that it could hinder the giant in some way? Of course, helping to revive an obviously demonic being couldn't possibly come back to haunt them at any point in time. “If...disapprove. Then must...feed. Hunger. Satiate. Must grrrrrow.”
Don grimaced at the demon’s offer. Were this creature anything else, he himself may have even been perfectly happy to cooperate with such a deal… But planting a brand new demon factory? Hell. Fucking. No.
It was bad enough that this hellish garden was threatening to spread beyond the prison; as the guardian would most likely be able to outlast whatever limited food and other resources the garden had access to. Taking a fresh seedling to plant in an area where it could actually thrive? That was just asking for trouble.
"Augusta." Don hissed to the elf in a hushed tone as he brought himself close to her; his eyes scanning the many vines around them for any signs of movement. "I think yah missed somethin’ on meh earlier. Could ya take another gander?" Hopefully, between her eye, and his newly acquired powers of purification; the girl would understand what he was suggesting.
Augusta stood back and considered her available options. Of course, there was the suggestion the demon gave. Help it, it helps us. There was the inferno option she was sure Don was suggestion. Perhaps there was another option but she wasn’t thinking of it at the moment. Perhaps she could get more information out of it. A quick glance at Don’s information again showed a bit more information about something new but… Well, that wouldn’t help anyone involved.
“Personally, I have no concerns with helping.” The elven woman mentioned, looking fairly calmly between Isidore and Donovan. “My concerns lie after that, however. I wish to know why you were sealed down here, Flower Demon. I’d rather not get myself involved with something As Augusta glanced at Don once more, his information seemed mostly the same, except one little extra added detail in the status and ability section.
Whispers of a Nameless God
He has invoked the power of an ancient Diety that has decided to give him a bit of its favor, for now. As long as he maintains this favor Donovan can purify and protect to some extent------
This man's name is Donovan. Like you, he is a traveler from another world chosen by the Goddess. His overall abilities are comparable to yours. Like yours, his body seems to be naturally conductive to Magical feats. Like yours, his body has been strengthened through some unknown means. He is in peak physical condition. No status abnormalities. Aggressive and cautious towards something else.
It seemed like the ability had more to say about the whispers, but something seemed to currently be blocking Augusta's sight.that could end the world that I’ve just started to find my way in.” She crossed her arms with a seemingly different line of thought than the others.
Isidore’s eyes flicked from side to side, glancing at Donovan and then at Augusta. Though the proposal of the demonic flower was interesting, it was bland too, and the threat of death was pointless as well. Assistance in escaping from that oversized warden may be beneficial, but considering the movements of that stone giant, it wasn’t impossible to do so without demonic aid either. His hand moved upwards, towards his mouth, and then dropped down again. Right, no smoking.
“Two more things,” Isidore said, raising two fingers up on his left hand. “What happens to you when we take the seed? Is this dog more loyal to you or to us? The more you tell, the more...mutually beneficial an agreement we can form.”
“Before death. Lived. One was...buried here. Old humaaaaans, could not survive on surffaface. Lifeless. Kiiiiiled. Imprisoned. Experimented. Must...replant surface...only sssssource. Thought...purify? But not part of.” It turned its head back towards Isidore. “ Iiif leave...death. No food. Starvation. Wilting. No caretaker. But seed wiiiil not.”
While it seemed sociable, it didn't seem to know what exactly Isidore and the group wanted to know. Augusta already confirmed it had limited intelligence, likely only being able to relate what was a danger to it, and what would help it survive.
“Kkkr, What...does human wish to t-talk? Beast was...garden. Is garden. Part of. Only used to...talk.” If Augusta had remembered what it said about not owning octavia, then it was likely this 'Garden' was the one who currently had control over the pup.
Don’s brow furrowed as he rubbed his chin in thought. If the garden was indeed already dying-- then that meant sending away the seed was meant to be its ‘last hurrah’. All things considered; the large man had come up with a plan, one that would minimize any potential threats to the group, while still denying any further quarter to this monstrosity that sat before them. "Aye agreeh tah yer terms." Don said, nodding slowly. "Aye’ll carryeh th’ seed to fertile ground, and in rehturn you restrain th’ guardian. Deal?"
“With one addition,” Isidore said. “Relinquish control of the dog to us.” He could see the line, the boundary here, and would not trust another’s hound. Not if Donovan’s swift agreement meant the man planned to destroy the seed once they were out of this monster’s reach. “Augusta, any other demands to make?”
“Oh? Any other demands?” Augusta questioned, looking at the man who requested control of Octavia. “Perhaps just that if we do this, there will be no harm brought to the world above.” She was mostly happy with the demand Isidore laid out. “I can think of none aside that and what you mentioned. Octavia’s such a cute pup so I wouldn’t mind keeping her.” The elf mentioned with a smile. “But none aside. I believe that this deal would benefit us all, would it not?” She was sure to keep wary of Octavia after witnessing what exactly happened when one was infected with the black blood but it seemed to be a fine deal so far.
Raime had become fast, but Lugh had become strong, and though the scout reached Ari before Lugh did, him slowing down as he approached meant that the warrior may as well have struck him at full force.
It was like being hit by a battering ram, except the battering ram had hooks attached to it that tore into the flesh of his back, and the agony, though he had become almost accustomed to such terrible pain from yesterday’s battles, was still such that Raime’s entire body went numb as a lightning-white pain burst into his vision. Just like that, 64 points of damage was dealt, the scout stumbling into Ari before clumsily grabbing at her head and running off. Dirt exploded with every footfall, a nauseating sensation making it up Raime’s brain as he exerted himself to his physical limit while dealing with his pain, but he did what he could, removing Ari from the vicinity of combat before slowing to a halt and turning around.
Just in time to see the centipede woman’s face loom before him, skinny legs pounding frenetically into the ground.
While the scout had troubled himself with Ari’s plight, the monstrous being had twisted her head out of the way of Lugh’s thrown talisman, her elongated body twisting into a spiral as the blessed projectile flew off into the distance. And while Lugh had grounded himself, posturing defensively, she hadn’t stopped moving at all, skittering past the warrior at the same inhuman speed that she had ambushed Ari with. He would have his opportunity to strike at her body, but so what?
Raime, with Ari in tow, had slowed to a stop in order to admonish the reckless catgirl, and now they were both sitting ducks.
[Assess] pinged in, and, mere meters away from those beautiful lips from which horrid teeth jutted out, Raime understood that she was certainly an enemy to be feared: just as fast as he was, but far surpassing him in strength and durability. @Searat@Cu Chulainn@GreenGoat@Psyker Landshark
Ying Yue furrowed her brows again. This white devil was certainly a strange one, to disavow the consumption of all food other than the corpse-flesh of the demonic barbarians. She could respect the desire for further power though, and with Eri Ka's promise of freshening up before their rendezvous with the King of this monster-infested Empire, the young noblewoman gave the woman a nod, and strode on off, leaving the ramblings of the islander to be lost to the wind. Certainly, those west and east of the Central Kingdom used strange words. Stats? Leveling up? The foreign goddess had whispered such words into Ying Yue's mind as well, but she had ignored them, treating them as largely irrelevant. What hero was so mad as to give in to the words of an aberrant voice within their mind?
Her eyes narrowed slightly in the islander's direction, his fervor and speed of speech bringing forth a particular idea. That of a slimy merchant or a desperate boy, eager to court the affections of any lady who'd give them a chance.
Eri Ka ate monsters though, a feat that even Ying Yue herself couldn't replicate. Certainly, she could handle her own against a pale-skinned child. Casting them out of her minds, the noblewoman strode towards the portal and into the light. Judging by what she felt, it wouldn't be hard to get out of the situation, even if the King turned out to be a corrupt tyrant.
If it had been just yesterday, Ari’s disappearance would have been inevitable, her min-maxed build allowing her to outstrip anyone else in terms of sheer speed. But while she had died, others had leveled up, and now, compared to the three men who pursued her, she was undoubtedly the slowest of them all. Her solitude, granted to her by both the party’s confusion about what they were going to do, lasted all of three seconds before Lugh, followed by Raime and Amulak, emerged from the fog after her. A solo adventure this time, at least, seemed unlikely.
As the three approached, however, Ari could hear something else. The rattling of dry branches within the obscuring mists. Was that the wind? No, there was no wind. So what…
A woman’s face, pale and warped in eternal wrath, shot out from behind Ari, her split-tongue slipping out from a painted red mouth that was lined with thirty-eight razor sharp teeth. Her hair, jet black and glossy, ran three meters long, tangled as it was with branches and bones, while her body was a sinuous twenty meters, sectioned off onto half-meter long portions armored with a dark brown carapace. One hundred spindly legs, human legs, extended out from the sides of the centipede woman’s body, and in that instant, everyone’s perception of time slowed down.
Slowed down enough that a thought could form in all their heads.
If neither Lugh, Raime, nor Amulak acted, Ari, as fragile as she was, was certainly dead. And they only had a split second to do so. @Psyker Landshark@Cu Chulainn@Searat@GreenGoat While the boys chased after the catgirl, the real girls had better things to do. The A-team may no longer be around, but both Magpie and Ames had plenty of chances to improve, both in terms of equipment and in terms of attributes. Each of the brawler’s punches now struck with the force of twelve men, while the warrior wielded a real weapon, the sword of a fallen adventurer having claimed many lives in retribution. Ignoring Ari’s suicidal nature, the duo strode off on their own, until the footfalls of their allies were lost within the fog.
Between the two of them, there was only one Purification Amulet that Raime had given them, one tool that would enable them to actually harm the incorporeal monsters that were rumored to linger within these parts, but, well, what of it? Surely the game wasn’t so cruel as to completely neuter players who took martial classes? Surely, there were enemies within the Thunderstruck Grove that could be slain with a strong punch and a sharp sword.
After some wandering, their belief was rewarded with the sound of snapping bone, slurping meat, and raucous, bone-rattling laughter. Taking to the shadows of the skeleton trees, Ames and Magpie spied three humanoids of impressive proportions. Two were red-skinned and one was blue, but they were all mountains of muscles, three meter tall monsters with two horns stretching up from their bald heads. Their mouths were open, a mess of yellowed teeth jutting out in a way that was impossible for their lips to close over, and they tore chunks of flesh out of a boulder-sized bear that still sparked faintly with electricity. Wounds, lacerations and burn marks, covered their bodies, but the oni all seemed to be in a good mood. The blue one took a swig of some bottle before passing it around to his brothers.
Their weapons, a blackstone bonesaw and two iron clubs the length of themselves, laid propped up against the bear that had been slain.
Though Magpie and Ames were outnumbered, their quarry had already been injured and looked to be unaware of their presence. Was this an opportunity for an ambush? Or was this a trap? It didn’t look like the two had long to deliberate though. With every second that passed, the wounds on the monsters’ bodies began to dissipate. @Yankee@OwO Really, whose idea was it to go through the haunted hellscape alone?
Right, it was his own idea.
Adventuring solo through the blasted woods, the silence amplified every small sound around Klein. The skittering of some vermin. The cawing of a far-off crow. The scream of a dying creature. The splintering of broken wood. It all surrounded him, and the air, humid and cold, became suffocating, water catching into his lungs. His imagination, infected by stories and childhood terrors, made monsters out of the shadows behind the trees, made gravesoil out of any patch of dirt that felt oddly soft. The Brutal Cleaver offered only meager comfort, while the Goblin Warpaint made the man feel more goblin-like than war-like. Really, why was he even here? Even during day, the Thunderstruck Grove looked like the setting for a horror movie; what would he do if he got himself lost, and got stuck here all the way into the night? Not like Cacophony Concord had teleport waypoints that he could just access willy-nilly.
As those thoughts all pounded into Klein’s skull, his foot caught on a root, and he fell face-flat into the dirt, the shock of imbalance briefly pulling him out of his mind. Pushing up, the mountain man tried to stand up, only that same foot to be stuck again. Stuck on a dark, writhing root that had wrapped all the way around his ankle.
Behind him, the tree, once inanimate, began to shudder, pink blossoms sprouting from its bare branches as more roots burst out from the ground, showering Klein with dirt that smelled of blood. The tree didn’t roar, nor did it speak, but if Klein didn’t fight back, he was going to be buried alive. @Shovel
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.
“Burn.”
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. "Augusta! Take care o' tha one in th' back-- aye got this un!"
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 power. 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 out, 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 divine 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 think. If it could think, it could plan. "Sly little bastard, ain't ya?"
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.
"At th' beginnin' uh time-" Don began as the power within him began to stir once more, "-there was only tha void." Reaching up, he yanked his emerald broach free from his neck, before pulling the star-serpent emblem from his pocket. "And from within tha void-" Donavan calmly bound the emblem to the handle of his weapon with the thin cordage of his broach, "-all uh realiteh burst forth." Don readied a swing of his warhammer, the strange magical power within him ramping intensity with every syllable that left his lips. "Heat, gas, and dust gathered in its wake- " power surged forth; focused through the emblem and hammer as Donovan swang in a wide arc, "AN THA' STARS WERE BORN!"
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.
“They’ve heard us, but not seen us,” Isidore said, his tone as measured as always. “Let’s continue. Quickly and quietly. Donovan, cover the back. Augusta, stay center.”
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.
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.
“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.
“Hrm.” 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.
“Donovan, I won’t die before the hour ends. Protect Augusta.” 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.“Now, let’s talk.”
Verjil
AThousandCurses
Kero
High Moon
Phase
Rabidporcupine
Citrus
Candelabra
TheMushroomLord
