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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Joshua Randall" data-source="post: 9618641" data-attributes="member: 7737">94We rush at the huge hand and fling a handful of sand at the massive wrist. "SHHHHHHH!" we utter, although we wonder if our Sleep spell will affect the giant creature.The grains of sand strike the creature's arm, only to turn into drops of water. Dalris is lifted out of sight into the stinking fog.[In two paragraphs we’ve targeted three different parts of marid anatomy: hand, wrist, and arm. Wheeeee!]Turn to (119).---119"Foolish human! Do you dare attack Shanif, mightiest of marids, with such puny magic?" The creature's telepathy is so powerful that his words seem to come from our own mind rather than an external source."What is a 'marid', Master?" Rufyl wants to know."I am the Lord of the Yellow Marshlands!" booms the answer in our minds.We shout Dalris's name and she replies that she's all right.Suddenly "a soft whistling sound is all around [us]" as the sulfuric haze condenses into a mist that clusters into a yellow rain, drenching us in a stinking downpour that stains our clothes and turns Rufyl an unsightly orange.The shower passes, "leaving the noon sun beaming down upon you and your familiar, and upon the giant creature whose own magic was far stronger than yours."Thus belittled, we continue at (142).</blockquote>