718 Vhalar 56...
The child behemoth was close enough now that Mathias could make out the shifting shadows that still partially obscured it. His dagger cut harmlessly against the creature’s flailing arms while his knife was knocked out his hand to land with a dulled clatter against the writhing creep of the floor; more and more of his shields were knocked away, the spent ether drifting into nothingness. Closer and closer he came to sustaining actual damage – and he doubted he’d be able to take more than a punch or two, let alone twenty.
Foot still trapped, Mathias tried once more to jerk his foot free, stumbling back as he narrowly avoided a kick from one of the multi-limbed “man’s” left-ish legs. “She” still gripped him tightly; much of the creature’s strength had been lost, specifically the crushing force of the vice from before, but there was enough life remaining in the beast to keep his foot captured in the thorny brambles of its grasp.
The “man” advanced, the clunky collection of legs shifting like those of a spider, arms still waving wildly. For lack of anything better to try, Mathias reached out and grabbed onto one of the arms with his free hand, pulling on the creature in an attempt to knock it off balance. Instead, he found himself lifted up off of the ground as the creature raised its arm. The sudden force wrenched his foot free of the “woman’s” grip, but, as quickly as he rose, the other arms surrounded him, locking him into a deadly embrace.
Cold burned against his soul, and he had no doubt his ether flared to stifle what should have been fear. Instead, he stared ahead with a determined focus at the bleeding throat before him, dagger in hand, not yet captured. As the creature attempted to squeeze and beat the life out of him, Mathias slashed at the creature’s exposed neck, tearing the flesh open just as he’d done to the “woman” before. A loud, gurgling roar thundered from the thing, spraying the dark green ooze all over as it erupted out of the gash in its neck.
Shoving his abrogant’s shield forward with a jerk of his head, Mathias widened the cut with his dagger as the shield smashed into the thing’s face, forcing the head back and the neck to tear even more. No longer needing to cling to the arm he’d first captured, Mathias reached forward and plunged his hand into the now gaping wound in the creature’s neck. He felt his fingers close around something hard amidst the sticky, wet ichor of its insides, and, without worrying too much about what it even was, he yanked back on the thing.
There was a spluttering gurgle and a sickening snap of something hard snapping. Though he couldn’t remove what it was he’d managed to get a grip on, it seemed to be enough to cause the arms around him loosen. Not wanting to waste his momentum, Mathias quickly jabbed at the thing’s eyes, cutting through the soft, milky tissues, before he shoved against the thing’s chest to free himself from its embrace.
Covered in sweat – and, thanks to the etheric armour that still surrounded his body, comfortably separated from the blackish green goo that dripped from his chin –, Mathias staggered backward. He needed more distance, needed to gather himself before-
Too late.
He wondered, as the child behemoth of heads and hands and limbs and vines and plant-like tendrils walked over the broken bodies of its comrades, crushing them beneath its weighty amalgam of bundled limbs if he had even needed to do anything. With a wet crunch, the “woman’s” head burst beneath one of the behemoth’s three sizable limbs, while the “man” let out a pathetic, shuddering moan as several of its arms and legs snapped under the force of the passing creature.
Mathias made a mental note to avoid getting trampled. He doubted his shields would be able to hold up against that.
As large as the newcomer was, Mathias was just able to pick out the figures of two more behind it, shadowed by the darkness but most certainly there. Breathing heavy, he readjusted the grip on his dagger and continued backing away – right back into the room he’d first fallen into. In the larger space, the behemoth wasn’t nearly as restricted, but neither was Mathias – and neither were the two unknown creatures.
They darted around the larger creature, who’s multiple child-like eyes swivelled to watch them pass, and Mathias found himself, once more, at a disadvantage. The two creatures were mostly animal, though one of them had two distinctly different human arms – one muscled and the other slim and delicate. Their bodies were, presumably, those of large dogs, but most of the hair had fallen out and been replaced with a writhing cover of creep. While the cavern was lighter than the tunnel thanks to the smashed bloodlight, the shadows were cast mostly upward and made it difficult to discern any more detail than he was able to gather with a cursory glance.
In the next moment, the beasts were upon him. The first lunged toward him, sharp teeth snapping at the empty air as he hopped backwards, but the second leapt through the air slammed into his chest before he should shift his shield to block it. Though his shield absorbed the force of the blow itself, the weight of the creature knocked him off balance and right onto his back.
Reflexively, Mathias stabbed the beast in its side with his dagger, eliciting a howl of – rage? pain? surprise? – before he quickly withdrew the blade and used his forearms to shove the creature off of him. Staggering back to his feet, he found himself once more upon the ground, this time held down by human hands as sharp fangs tore into his armour. He struggled against the creature, his own teeth grinding against one another from effort, but wasn’t able to overpower it.
To keep the thing from whittling away his etheric armour to nothing, he forced the shield between himself and the beast’s mouth with a flick of his head; the other canine-like creature circled the pair, waiting to strike, while the behemoth continued its lumbering approach. He tried to position his legs in such a way that he might kick the creature off of him, but his attempts proved ineffective – perhaps in part due to his increasing fatigue.
At last, he managed to wrest a hand free, and though his dagger was still trapped in his other, it was enough to jab his thumb into the thing’s eye to disorient it. The other hand loosened, and soon the dagger found its way across the creature’s throat as he finally managed to kick it off him, rolling over and on top of it before he rose to his feet, knees bent, and shield ready for the next attack that came without hesitation or pause.
The other beast launched itself into the air, jaws snapping wildly, but instead of colliding with him as it had done before, it slammed into the hastily positioned shield and tumbled to the ground with a yelp. The moment he knew the creature would be thwarted, Mathias turned his attention to the behemoth – and ran.
He was too tired, too weak, and far too near the limit of his armour’s protective capabilities to continue the fight. Though he had no doubt the hound would pursue, it was a far more manageable foe than the towering monstrosity, whose multitude of eyes all shifted to stare at him as he passed it by. He paid them no heed, and barely noticed the crack of the stringy vines that hung from its shoulders that snapped out toward him like whips, missing him by just a hair.
A very lucky, very fortunate hair.
Though his breath burned in his lungs, and his legs felt at least twice as heavy as they usually did, he pressed onward. Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot. Thump-a-thump-a. Breathe in, breath out. He didn’t know where he was going, only that it was away from the behemoth. When he came to the broken bodies of the first two creepborne, he wasted no time in stumbling over the corpse of the now still “woman”, avoiding the “man’s” still weakly waving arms – he had no desire to be entrapped once more.
As he ran, ether slipped from his skin, the whirring spheres repairing the damage to his defences. He felt dizzy and nauseous; something he was well aware didn’t come from the pounding beat of his feet against the ground and pumping, rhythmic motion of his arms; he was at his limit. Still, it was far better to take precautions and live with the consequences than it was to die without them.
And he was glad for his choice as he was knocked off of his feet once again, the hot, rancid breath of the creepborne beast on the back of his head right before its teeth snapped around his neck.
The child behemoth was close enough now that Mathias could make out the shifting shadows that still partially obscured it. His dagger cut harmlessly against the creature’s flailing arms while his knife was knocked out his hand to land with a dulled clatter against the writhing creep of the floor; more and more of his shields were knocked away, the spent ether drifting into nothingness. Closer and closer he came to sustaining actual damage – and he doubted he’d be able to take more than a punch or two, let alone twenty.
Foot still trapped, Mathias tried once more to jerk his foot free, stumbling back as he narrowly avoided a kick from one of the multi-limbed “man’s” left-ish legs. “She” still gripped him tightly; much of the creature’s strength had been lost, specifically the crushing force of the vice from before, but there was enough life remaining in the beast to keep his foot captured in the thorny brambles of its grasp.
The “man” advanced, the clunky collection of legs shifting like those of a spider, arms still waving wildly. For lack of anything better to try, Mathias reached out and grabbed onto one of the arms with his free hand, pulling on the creature in an attempt to knock it off balance. Instead, he found himself lifted up off of the ground as the creature raised its arm. The sudden force wrenched his foot free of the “woman’s” grip, but, as quickly as he rose, the other arms surrounded him, locking him into a deadly embrace.
Cold burned against his soul, and he had no doubt his ether flared to stifle what should have been fear. Instead, he stared ahead with a determined focus at the bleeding throat before him, dagger in hand, not yet captured. As the creature attempted to squeeze and beat the life out of him, Mathias slashed at the creature’s exposed neck, tearing the flesh open just as he’d done to the “woman” before. A loud, gurgling roar thundered from the thing, spraying the dark green ooze all over as it erupted out of the gash in its neck.
Shoving his abrogant’s shield forward with a jerk of his head, Mathias widened the cut with his dagger as the shield smashed into the thing’s face, forcing the head back and the neck to tear even more. No longer needing to cling to the arm he’d first captured, Mathias reached forward and plunged his hand into the now gaping wound in the creature’s neck. He felt his fingers close around something hard amidst the sticky, wet ichor of its insides, and, without worrying too much about what it even was, he yanked back on the thing.
There was a spluttering gurgle and a sickening snap of something hard snapping. Though he couldn’t remove what it was he’d managed to get a grip on, it seemed to be enough to cause the arms around him loosen. Not wanting to waste his momentum, Mathias quickly jabbed at the thing’s eyes, cutting through the soft, milky tissues, before he shoved against the thing’s chest to free himself from its embrace.
Covered in sweat – and, thanks to the etheric armour that still surrounded his body, comfortably separated from the blackish green goo that dripped from his chin –, Mathias staggered backward. He needed more distance, needed to gather himself before-
Too late.
He wondered, as the child behemoth of heads and hands and limbs and vines and plant-like tendrils walked over the broken bodies of its comrades, crushing them beneath its weighty amalgam of bundled limbs if he had even needed to do anything. With a wet crunch, the “woman’s” head burst beneath one of the behemoth’s three sizable limbs, while the “man” let out a pathetic, shuddering moan as several of its arms and legs snapped under the force of the passing creature.
Mathias made a mental note to avoid getting trampled. He doubted his shields would be able to hold up against that.
As large as the newcomer was, Mathias was just able to pick out the figures of two more behind it, shadowed by the darkness but most certainly there. Breathing heavy, he readjusted the grip on his dagger and continued backing away – right back into the room he’d first fallen into. In the larger space, the behemoth wasn’t nearly as restricted, but neither was Mathias – and neither were the two unknown creatures.
They darted around the larger creature, who’s multiple child-like eyes swivelled to watch them pass, and Mathias found himself, once more, at a disadvantage. The two creatures were mostly animal, though one of them had two distinctly different human arms – one muscled and the other slim and delicate. Their bodies were, presumably, those of large dogs, but most of the hair had fallen out and been replaced with a writhing cover of creep. While the cavern was lighter than the tunnel thanks to the smashed bloodlight, the shadows were cast mostly upward and made it difficult to discern any more detail than he was able to gather with a cursory glance.
In the next moment, the beasts were upon him. The first lunged toward him, sharp teeth snapping at the empty air as he hopped backwards, but the second leapt through the air slammed into his chest before he should shift his shield to block it. Though his shield absorbed the force of the blow itself, the weight of the creature knocked him off balance and right onto his back.
Reflexively, Mathias stabbed the beast in its side with his dagger, eliciting a howl of – rage? pain? surprise? – before he quickly withdrew the blade and used his forearms to shove the creature off of him. Staggering back to his feet, he found himself once more upon the ground, this time held down by human hands as sharp fangs tore into his armour. He struggled against the creature, his own teeth grinding against one another from effort, but wasn’t able to overpower it.
To keep the thing from whittling away his etheric armour to nothing, he forced the shield between himself and the beast’s mouth with a flick of his head; the other canine-like creature circled the pair, waiting to strike, while the behemoth continued its lumbering approach. He tried to position his legs in such a way that he might kick the creature off of him, but his attempts proved ineffective – perhaps in part due to his increasing fatigue.
At last, he managed to wrest a hand free, and though his dagger was still trapped in his other, it was enough to jab his thumb into the thing’s eye to disorient it. The other hand loosened, and soon the dagger found its way across the creature’s throat as he finally managed to kick it off him, rolling over and on top of it before he rose to his feet, knees bent, and shield ready for the next attack that came without hesitation or pause.
The other beast launched itself into the air, jaws snapping wildly, but instead of colliding with him as it had done before, it slammed into the hastily positioned shield and tumbled to the ground with a yelp. The moment he knew the creature would be thwarted, Mathias turned his attention to the behemoth – and ran.
He was too tired, too weak, and far too near the limit of his armour’s protective capabilities to continue the fight. Though he had no doubt the hound would pursue, it was a far more manageable foe than the towering monstrosity, whose multitude of eyes all shifted to stare at him as he passed it by. He paid them no heed, and barely noticed the crack of the stringy vines that hung from its shoulders that snapped out toward him like whips, missing him by just a hair.
A very lucky, very fortunate hair.
Though his breath burned in his lungs, and his legs felt at least twice as heavy as they usually did, he pressed onward. Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot. Thump-a-thump-a. Breathe in, breath out. He didn’t know where he was going, only that it was away from the behemoth. When he came to the broken bodies of the first two creepborne, he wasted no time in stumbling over the corpse of the now still “woman”, avoiding the “man’s” still weakly waving arms – he had no desire to be entrapped once more.
As he ran, ether slipped from his skin, the whirring spheres repairing the damage to his defences. He felt dizzy and nauseous; something he was well aware didn’t come from the pounding beat of his feet against the ground and pumping, rhythmic motion of his arms; he was at his limit. Still, it was far better to take precautions and live with the consequences than it was to die without them.
And he was glad for his choice as he was knocked off of his feet once again, the hot, rancid breath of the creepborne beast on the back of his head right before its teeth snapped around his neck.
