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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Carnifex" data-source="post: 1393774" data-attributes="member: 227">Without hesitation, the hulking, armoured Toranite warrior bellowed his defiant warcry and countercharged towards the oncoming Hashrukkite assault, metal clashing as he stomped forwards with the massive bladed warmace prepared to strike. With a grisly crunch he swept it down into the foremost girallon, the weapon rending the flesh of the monster badly and sending glistening arcs of blood scattering across its diseased fur. Behind him, Jarvis moved to fend off the abberation that was pulling itself out of the shattered metal pipe, blocking its access to his wards; his crystal-bladed short sword flickered out and scored a deep strike into one of the reaching arms, but the beast didn't even seem to notice.At the back of the pack of festering disease-worshippers, the two flail-carrying clerics paused to utter more loudly their prayers, moving their hands in ritual gestures through the thick, incense-filled air around them and invoking the power of Hashrukk. With a shimmer of divine energy, an unholy wash of magic spread across their allies, bolstering them with the blessing, and then they imbued the nearest of the girallons with even more divine power, calling on the aid of the Daemonflesh to sustain it and to crush their foes. The massive beast roared with the invigorating power rushing into it.Shifting through the band like a skittering shadow, Ebri dove over towards her own ward, Melisande, where with quiet but holy incantations she called upon her deity to protect the aasimar from further harm. With a quiet hum, the air around the woman took on a dulled hue, slightly more shadowy than the rest of the room even in the light through the glass above.Meanwhile, Gaethras the Manipulator was yelling orders and cursing. He let go of the chain leads that kept the warhounds close to him; with snarls of delight, the twisted creatures leapt forwards towards the girallon that was already assailed by the Dread Slayer, but the ape-like beast easily fended them off with its powerful arms. Then, finally with his hands freed up properly, Gaethras fell back into an invocational gesture, one arm held high and the other out in front, and with an actinic gleam of light, sharp electricity began to dance down from his hands to his shoulders, highlighting his grin as the energy ran through him. Then he let the build-up loose, and the energy danced across the charging cultists and girallons. Two of the berserk men simply toppled, their corpses twitching as their robes caught fire, while others screamed in agony or jolted bizarrely. One girallon was seared badly by the bolt, but the other seemed virtually unharmed.Ansas'Turi was feeling more than a little out of place in the insane combat breaking out all around her, and backed off, trying to find a corner to hide in until this was all over. Nonetheless, she kept her weapons-bracer up and tried to keep an aim on the flitting movement through the mob that signified the diminuitive daemons, just in case one came her way.Recovering from their former surprise, the Carthagian militiamen now moved to fight back. Those with crossbows let loose a flurry of bolts into their attackers; another cultist fell, transfixed by a quarrel through the neck, and one of the girallons looked like it had arrows growing out of its shoulders, though even now the beast still seemed more angry than anything else. Led by their mage-captain, who conjured up a glowing shield of energy to protect himself, the remaining warriors swept forwards with swords and spears to engage their foe in melee, the girallons swatting at the assailants all around them with enraged bellows as their flesh was struck again and again."I'll see if I can slow them down," Cazamir barked as he moved away from Johanne. "Be wary of that steel door!" Pushing through the melee, he forced his way to the front, and brought up his foot to stamp down and send out a shockwave of mental force... only to find his concentration broken by the damned daemons! The little fiends giggling seemed magnified by the increased number now running around the place, and it reverberated around the metal pipes, grating against his mind. At the critical moment, his concentration - his focus of will - had failed.Then the entire place resounded not with the daemons laughter but with the empowered speech of Wyshira, raising up a powerful prayer to Ishrak herself for aid and protection. All around her, her allies gelt suddenly bolstered and strengthened by the prayer, while all her foes seemed to shrink back in fear for a moment; all, that was, except the berserk girallons. But even the daemons seemed to falter for a moment.But it was only a moment, before they sprang back into action, quite literally. One danced through the confusion, scurrying through people's legs up to the Ishrakite priestess, and with a moment's evil cackle, bit her leg with its quite considerable row of teeth. Wyshira felt the little fiend tear through the skin, biting down hard before... it was gone again, laughing and giggling as it dove away. Blood flowed freely from the injury, as did pain.Another, grinning insanely as it went, saw Sebastion loose off an arrow into the Hashrukkite mob, and pointed towards him menacingly, sending a stream of dark magic whispering out at him. Suddenly, the Huronese man found the laughter of the daemons infectious, hilarious, and saw no reason not to collapse into a pile of mirth himself. Sobbing with laughter, he fell to the ground, helpless. Meanwhile, the remaining cultists fought back against their assailants frenziedly, howling calls to Hashrukk as they swung their flails with abandon; under the sheer ferocity of the assault, the bloodied Carthagians could not help but falter and step back.At Cazamir's shouted warning about the iris, Johanne stepped away from the melee to watch it suspiciously, himself and many other of the wizards casting lesser protection spells; a host of shimmering shields and ethereal armours sprung up around them. As the metal aperture finally finished opening, revealing the gloom beyond, a massive metal figure strode through with a hiss of steam escaping pistons - another arcanofex, much like the one they had met in the tower entranceway; in fact, nearly identical. The head swept from left to right, assessing the situation, then began to stride towards the melee, pushing Carthagians out of the way with ease.Melisande brought up her hands to fling more sapphire bolts at the capering daemon atop the pipe that she had hurt before; but this time, even as she began to cast, it gibbered some insane incantation of its own, and with a push of abjuration magic, disrupted her spell. Its laughter at this minor triumph was even more irritating than before.Meg'anna too stepped up to bring battle to the enemy, her hands weaving nature magic together even as around her the air resounded with the cold hiss of glacial winds and the tinkle of ice falling to the ground; she let loose a blast of icy cold air that snapped and frosted across the cultists and a girallon; one cultist fell, literally frozen to death, and the girallon's fresh wounds crusted over with frozen blood as it staggered from the chilly assault.And then the girallons gathered their wits together and struck back. The beast assailed by the Dread Slayer, warhounds and numerous Carthagian warriors lashed out in pure rage; one of the Manipulated hounds was sent flying towards a wall where it lay, still and crumpled, in a pool of its own blood, and a punishing punch to the Dread Slayer left a permanent dent in the Toranite's heavy armour, blood seeping through the rent metal as the man staggered. Then it leant forwards and sunk its teeth into the shoulder of a nearby Carthagian, hoisting him up into the air as it worrried at the flesh until the entire arm came free and the screaming man dropped to the floor. The other girallon that had born the brunt of the spells, bolts and spears screamed and piled forwards, smashing men aside like ragdolls, leaving them limp and broken. The final beast managed to get itself free of the pipe at last, and unable to hit the dodging form of Jarvis, simply reached over him and rent one of the wizards behind him in two. Seeing the carnage they were wreaking, Burl flung out a spray of magical missiles towards the most injured one; even in its pure rage it stumbled now, badly injured. Then the arcanofex met with it head on, and with a resounding punch knocked it back, stunned; the impact of the attack pulverised flesh and bone, and one of the abberation's shoulders was left useless and crushed. Its animal eyes glared out at its attacker, but the impassive construct just moved in for more.* * *Deeply tempted to stay by Melisande, Ebri nonetheless felt conflict over her next course of action. Normally she might trust to Sebastion to protect Melisande, but the man had now lost all shred of mental discipline--For herself, she could not help but feel a small shock at having seen their scholar companion torn in two. It was over for him now, however, while she must survive this less physical rift--Protected and less visible as she was by the shadowskin, it only made sense that she move forward to the offensive...She reached into her wrap for one of the shadowskin globes, pressing it into Melisande's hand. "If the spell is insufficient--" she said, and darted towards the melee.* * *Melisade found it impossible to keep track of what else was going on around her; the vast hall echoed deafeningly with hideous roars, screams, demonic giggling, pounding, crashing and worse--ripping and splashing. She was aware Ebri had cast some sort of spell on her, and had noticed the light dim around her--another shadow-spell?--as well as the appearance of another tower arcanofex. She now implicitly trusted that if the arcanofex downstairs was their friend, then this one would be too, and decided to concentrate her energies on the daemons again.Then something smooth and cool was pressed into her palm."If the spell is insufficient...."Mel looked at the dark little globe in suprise. There was no time to stop and wonder. She stuffed it into her pocket and turned another blast of magic at the daemon up in the pipes. Surely it couldn't do that twice....* * *In the midst of the chaos, Cazamir believed he was losing his sanity. Deadly fires and lightning, hulking beasts, and the unceasing laughter of those little daemons swirled all around him, distracting him and causing the flames inside to falter.Concentrate, Caz… Concentrate. You will help no one if you cannot conquer the mind! To drive the point into his mind, Cazamir watched as one of the four-armed beasts casually slew one of the sages. It was subsequently punished by the Arcanofex, but that did little for his piece of mind.He quickly surveyed the scene, looking for the nearest opponent. He found one of the gorilla-beasts, and set off towards it. He couldn't allow it to grab him, so he would have to bring it down with quick, sharp kicks.* * *As Sebastion continued to roll around on the ground in helpless mirth, the savage battle continued all around him. The Toranite warrior's heavy mace struck true again and again, the massive bladed head of the weapon empowered further since the Dread Slayer seemed to have entered a state of berserk rage; Ebri and Wyshira could feel the dark energy roiling off him, divine power filling him with furious energy as the blood of the girallong before him spattered far and wide. The massive creature, besieged by men, howled in agony and thrashed around it, slaughtering more of the Carthagian warriors and the last warhound but unable to get its claws through the thick, heavy armour of the berserker. Jarvis continued to lash out at the lumbering behemoth that stood now before him, the blood of one of the men he was supposed to be guarding all over its claws, and desperately tried to get its attention onto him. Blades flashed and struck, one skittering off the diseased creature's toughened skin while the other brought forth a stream of blood, but it simply wasn't enough, for the beast seemed to have learned that the pathfinder was just too evasive to strike, and reached out once again for the wizards behind him. It was met with a hail of arcane attacks; bolts of energy and force, a host of minor hexes and curses, all cascading over it, and the assailed creature echoed its brethren's howl of pain, but charged into the band with pain-fuelled strength. Like a reaper it scythed through the aged men, claws and teeth flashing as it cut through them like corn, eyes glazed with insane rage.The foul ecclesiastics supporting the Hashrukkite assault wove forth new prayers and beseechments to their dark lord, and a blanket of cursing magic fell forth across their foes. All beneath the influence of the sinister spell felt their strikes falter and their morale waver, but then the superior of the two clerics stepped forth and thrust forth his hands, and with a grotesque ripple of the skin, they sprouted forth heavy barbs. Those who had faced the crazed wizard Cancer beneath Tarravus had a moment in which to recognise the spell from when it had been used then; and like a hail of darts, the barbs blasted forth. Most of the remaining Carthagian warriors fell beneath the assault; the thick press of combat turned out to be advantageous for those behind the front-runners, the corpses of those in front of them protecting them from the bulk of the agonising spray. Even so, both Wyshira and Meg'anna found themselves caught in the blast, both injured but Wyshira especially so. Every movement she took, the spines that had bitten through her flesh and protruded from her as if she was a pin cushion caused absolute agony.But then, darting from the shadows once more, Ebri struck forth at the censer-wielding zealots; her kama flashed in the blue light shed through the glass above, and with a gasp of pain the lesser of the two clerics fell, clutching at the slash across his throat.Angered at the death of his fleshtwisted warhounds, Gaethras prepared to hurl another powerful incantation, but the closely packed battle prevented him from being able to do so without striking his own side. Instead the Manipulator flung forth a flurry of force, arrow-like projectiles arcing in to strike unerringly the nearest of the girallons, the one assailed by the Dread Slayer; the bolts tore into it with small bursts of gore, and with a gurgling groan the beast finally toppled into a blood-sodden heap.Now the only one of the Carthagian warriors left was the mage-captain, who leapt gleefully forwards to join Ebri's assault on the last cleric, his glimmering magical shield filling the air around him. With a flash of steel, his blade bit, scoring a painful strike on the Hashrukkite who staggered and was now caught between two foes.The nearest of the girallons to Cazamir was now the one butchering his wards, and he set off towards it at pace, launching into the air at the final moment to assault it with a flurry of kicks and strikes. Repeatedly he struck true, rewarded with the noise of cracking bone several times, and the blood-soaked monster turned its fearsome eyes upon him, staring down with animal ferocity.  “Face me, you overgrown kurg!” he said to the towering girallon, using the colorful Huronese term.Nearby, Wyshira quickly ran to the side of the incapacitated Sebastion, hoping to protect him from any attention diverted his way. She drew forth a prismatic javelin and held it ready; her pose seemed to ward off the mischievous daemons and they stayed clear of her. In fact, with the tide of battle seemingly turning, the little monsters disappeared completely, seemingly shifting out of existence with little puffs of smoke and fire. Melisande found herself deprived of a target just before she was about to hurl more arcane missiles in the daemon's direction. Instead she redirected the spell towards one of the girallons, the sapphire bolts biting into it. Nearby, Burl conjured forth a magical knifeblade of freezing ice, hurling it at the girallon assaulting the scholars; yet his aim was poor in the confusion of battle, and the arcane weapon shattered against the wall of the room.Meg'anna's creeping cold continued to work its magic, and the final of the berserk cultist warriors fell, frozen to death in its icy grip; the girallon facing the arcanofex, who had also been caught in the spell, also continued to suffer as the rime continued to expand across its skin, coating much of it in a layer of ice. Then the druidess moved forwards to engage it in melee, flanking it and striking out with her enchanted spear; the flames of Rhaeygar flared up brightly, but even so injured, the monstrosity managed to evade her attack. It retaliated, the bulk of its ire directed at the arcanofex, but managing to sink a claw into Meg'anna as well, slashing deep wounds into her. With its other arms it sought to rend the construct before it apart, claws sparking across the metal foe. It managed to catch them on one of the construct's plates and with a scream of tortured metal, the panel tore off, revealing the pistons and gears of one of the arcanofexes shoulders beneath. In retaliation, the mechanised warrior struck back with hammer blows, repeatedly pummelling the corrupted abberation before one final punch shattered its skull and it toppled.* * *Pain engulfed her; it was all Wyshira knew. How many of the magical barbs had struck her? It felt like a half dozen or more, mostly in her upper body, although none had lodged in a vital area. Her eyes swam with tears, and the slight movement of wiping them away sent another wave of agony through her.When she could see again, she looked for a target for her javelin. Death was everywhere. Sebastian was still wracked with hysterical laughter on the floor, but at least no enemies were near enough to threaten him. One of the four-armed monstrosities still stood a distance away, and Wyshira steeled herself to launch the javelin at it.More pain than she had ever imagined possible followed. It was too much, and with a cry she fell to her knees. Sebastian's laughter echoed in her ears.* * *The berserk armoured Toranite; his first opponent crumpled before him, turned and ploughed into the last remaining girallon. A pulverising smash from his bladed mace reduced half of the monster's bestial face to red ruin, and then with a flicker of his shortsword, Jarvis darted across in front of it and sent its guts spilling out to the floor. It gurgled pathetically as it too hit the floor.Caught between the mage-captain and Ebri, the last Hashrukkite cleric was quickly finished off, his flanking foes hitting him repeatedly before the scarred cultist could recover.With the berserk howling of such fiendish monstrosities once again quelled, the chamber was dominated by the quiet sounds of the whirring fans, the quiet hiss of the arcanofex's steam vents, and the groans of the dying.Next Time: The aftermath. So many dead...</blockquote>

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