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The Realms of Enlightenment: The Grey Companions
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<blockquote data-quote="Jon Potter" data-source="post: 985022" data-attributes="member: 2323"><p><strong>[PLAIN][Realms #228] The Devourer[/PLAIN]</strong></p><p></p><p>Ruze was the first to react to the shadowy movement in the cavern behind Ledare. He drew his scimitars, puffed up his chest, and began to speak. "Ledare, fear not, for we are with you!" he shouted. "We'll have this gate opened and you returned to our ranks in the twinkling of an eye! For the might of Shaharizod is on our side and with her divine aid, we cannot fail!"</p><p></p><p>The power of his words stirred the hearts of each who heard them.</p><p></p><p>Vade felt a courage that he only rarely experienced flood through him and he bounded forward, unfurling his Open Kit as he went. He immediately fell to examining the trap, paying particularly close attention to the seam in the ground and the section of floor that was affixed to the bars. It was here where he assumed the trigger must be located and he had no wish to set it off with him still on it. Courage or no courage.</p><p></p><p>Draelond reacted almost as swiftly as the little halfling, but he knew little of traps and was unmindful of any triggering mechanism. He moved quickly up to the bars, sparing a single glance into the cavern beyond and the misshapen thing that shambled about in the darkness behind Ledare. Then he grabbed two of the bars in his meaty hands and strained against them with all the strength of his mighty frame bolstered by the righteous nobility of Ruze's words. For a moment that seemed to last an hour, he strained against the thick metal, cords of muscle standing out along his neck and shoulders and visibly rippling beneath his chainmail. The iron bars creaked and groaned beneath the onslaught of Draelond's uncanny strength, but, although he felt that he had failed to overmatch their resilience by the narrowest of margins, they held fast.</p><p></p><p>Ixin stepped forward so that she had a clear view of the cavern passed Draelond's shoulder and reached inside her Cloak of Many Pockets. One of Dwardolin's scrolls found its way into her hand and she held it up, intoning the words that would release the magic that the Outcast Specialist had encoded onto the parchment. As she spoke the activation phrase, the scroll itself was consumed by fire and its magic thrummed pleasantly through Ixin's veins. "Ledare, duck!" she yelled and gestured at the noisome thing in the shadows. The mage needn't have bothered warning the Janissary as the three bolts of force that leapt from Ixin's clawed fingers swerved to avoid Draelond, the iron bars, and Ledare and then slammed unerringly into the lump of flesh beyond.</p><p></p><p>The thing let out a bubbling cry of pain, and Ledare turned to look at it, the momentary light from Ixin's Magic Missiles giving the half-elf an unimpeded view of the Devourer. She immediately wished it hadn't. The thing looked like a tumor given mobility and an obscene vitality. A thick tongue of flesh surmounted its misshapen body and two yellow eyes, set one above the other, regarded her from the tongue's surface. A tooth-filled vertical gash in its side drooled cloudy white mucus and gurgled wetly with each breath the thing took. It had two tentacles covered with a ropy network of veins and tipped with a paddle of flesh bristling with sharp thorns - or rather it had originally had two. One was currently considerably shorter than its mate, severed at least four feet from the end.</p><p></p><p>Ledare remembered the wound that Draelond had inflicted on the tentacle that had come up at them through the floor of the chamber above and smiled. Perhaps she would be able to do the same now. Of course, the Devourer had other ideas.</p><p></p><p>Its remaining tentacle lashed out from the darkness and slammed into Ledare's breastplate, knocking the Janissary back against the iron bars. The wind was forced from her lungs and her helmet rang against the gate like a bell. Before she could do anything more than grunt in pain, the tentacle wrapped around her torso and dragged her 15 feet away from the bars. Draelond, who stood just on the other side of the bars, reached out his hand to catch her, but he was too late. Her feet left twin furrows in the wet earth as she went.</p><p></p><p>The creature's dripping maw loomed very large as she was drawn toward it. She couldn't get to her sword and her breath was being inexorably forced from her lungs. She struggled weakly to loosen the tentacle, but it was to no avail. The thing was just too strong. It was like trying to pry off an iron bar.</p><p></p><p>"Ruze! For the love of Cyr, help me with these bars!" Draelond grunted, redoubling his efforts upon seeing Ledare's impending fate.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p><strong><em>More to come...</em></strong></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Jon Potter, post: 985022, member: 2323"] [b][PLAIN][Realms #228] The Devourer[/PLAIN][/b] Ruze was the first to react to the shadowy movement in the cavern behind Ledare. He drew his scimitars, puffed up his chest, and began to speak. "Ledare, fear not, for we are with you!" he shouted. "We'll have this gate opened and you returned to our ranks in the twinkling of an eye! For the might of Shaharizod is on our side and with her divine aid, we cannot fail!" The power of his words stirred the hearts of each who heard them. Vade felt a courage that he only rarely experienced flood through him and he bounded forward, unfurling his Open Kit as he went. He immediately fell to examining the trap, paying particularly close attention to the seam in the ground and the section of floor that was affixed to the bars. It was here where he assumed the trigger must be located and he had no wish to set it off with him still on it. Courage or no courage. Draelond reacted almost as swiftly as the little halfling, but he knew little of traps and was unmindful of any triggering mechanism. He moved quickly up to the bars, sparing a single glance into the cavern beyond and the misshapen thing that shambled about in the darkness behind Ledare. Then he grabbed two of the bars in his meaty hands and strained against them with all the strength of his mighty frame bolstered by the righteous nobility of Ruze's words. For a moment that seemed to last an hour, he strained against the thick metal, cords of muscle standing out along his neck and shoulders and visibly rippling beneath his chainmail. The iron bars creaked and groaned beneath the onslaught of Draelond's uncanny strength, but, although he felt that he had failed to overmatch their resilience by the narrowest of margins, they held fast. Ixin stepped forward so that she had a clear view of the cavern passed Draelond's shoulder and reached inside her Cloak of Many Pockets. One of Dwardolin's scrolls found its way into her hand and she held it up, intoning the words that would release the magic that the Outcast Specialist had encoded onto the parchment. As she spoke the activation phrase, the scroll itself was consumed by fire and its magic thrummed pleasantly through Ixin's veins. "Ledare, duck!" she yelled and gestured at the noisome thing in the shadows. The mage needn't have bothered warning the Janissary as the three bolts of force that leapt from Ixin's clawed fingers swerved to avoid Draelond, the iron bars, and Ledare and then slammed unerringly into the lump of flesh beyond. The thing let out a bubbling cry of pain, and Ledare turned to look at it, the momentary light from Ixin's Magic Missiles giving the half-elf an unimpeded view of the Devourer. She immediately wished it hadn't. The thing looked like a tumor given mobility and an obscene vitality. A thick tongue of flesh surmounted its misshapen body and two yellow eyes, set one above the other, regarded her from the tongue's surface. A tooth-filled vertical gash in its side drooled cloudy white mucus and gurgled wetly with each breath the thing took. It had two tentacles covered with a ropy network of veins and tipped with a paddle of flesh bristling with sharp thorns - or rather it had originally had two. One was currently considerably shorter than its mate, severed at least four feet from the end. Ledare remembered the wound that Draelond had inflicted on the tentacle that had come up at them through the floor of the chamber above and smiled. Perhaps she would be able to do the same now. Of course, the Devourer had other ideas. Its remaining tentacle lashed out from the darkness and slammed into Ledare's breastplate, knocking the Janissary back against the iron bars. The wind was forced from her lungs and her helmet rang against the gate like a bell. Before she could do anything more than grunt in pain, the tentacle wrapped around her torso and dragged her 15 feet away from the bars. Draelond, who stood just on the other side of the bars, reached out his hand to catch her, but he was too late. Her feet left twin furrows in the wet earth as she went. The creature's dripping maw loomed very large as she was drawn toward it. She couldn't get to her sword and her breath was being inexorably forced from her lungs. She struggled weakly to loosen the tentacle, but it was to no avail. The thing was just too strong. It was like trying to pry off an iron bar. "Ruze! For the love of Cyr, help me with these bars!" Draelond grunted, redoubling his efforts upon seeing Ledare's impending fate. [B][I]More to come...[/I][/B][I] [/I] [/QUOTE]
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