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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Ciaran" data-source="post: 470029" data-attributes="member: 756">You pull at the sticky web of roots, but they hold fast against your efforts.  The pain in your wounds makes you gasp.  Undaunted, you pull harder, applying all of your strength against your vegetable prison.  Blood pounds in your brain, and the world starts a slow, vertiginous roll.  Eventually, you hear a creaking noise, a crackling, and you wonder if your own muscles have started to tear under the strain.Then the roots around your arms and shoulders give way with a snap.Hot, dark fluid spills from the ruptured roots, scalding your abraded flesh.  All around you, the pale tendrils writhe and spasm, filling the chamber with a slithering as of a thousand maddened snakes.  The dim blue flow reveals no obvious exit – every available surface is webbed with roots – and from above you, you hear the rustling of vines.  The sound grows steadily louder as you disentangle your legs from their bindings.What do you do?</blockquote>