The regrets of darkness [Crystal Swords Battle]

[Mari]

Amari punched the wall again, trying to diffuse her anger, whatever small glimmer of coherent thought trying to calm herself down, and push her anger away from the black haired woman toward the beast. It was it who seemingly dragged them here. It was itwho spawned those strange black blobs, and it was it who had killed Shinsou.

Amari went to throw a third punch but something caught her eye, something so incredibly bizarre and surreal it was as though everything had paused to see the spectacle. A single dingy chest plate bounced across the floor, as though it were being tugged by an invisible force. Amari's eyes followed up, as it soared into the air and.... and...

What the actual fuck?

And there was Storm, riding it like some sort of villain atop a mighty steed. Except in this case the steed was a hunk of metal. Whatever the fuck Storm was doing, it did the trick, it baffled Amari so much it snapped her out of her rage. She glanced down at her bloodied fist, then back to the Crystal Snake Sword, it's blade still in the form of a snakes head, writhing and twisting, waiting for her swing, waiting to bite down into the unsuspecting flesh of its prey.

Finally....finally Amari shifted her gaze to the eye riddled beast once more, following the trail of literal rats that burst forth from Storms sword. Guess he has a sword based on rats...and that woman... Her eyes shifted to Josette who was making an escape atop a mighty steed. A horse. So each sword has a manifestation of its animal...

"A-Amari...g-go through...can't hold...m-much longer..." Jake gasped as he tried to push himself up off the ground. Amari glanced at him, then at the fading portal. If she were to go through now she'd be landing in a pile of blood, ichor, and writhing rats, with no sure way of using the portal to get away from the beast. I've been through worse

Amari gripped the sword, giving a small nod toward Jake. "Right."

You know what they say, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and Amari was well and truly scorned.

She didn't offer Jake any words of thanks, she didn't offer him words of encouragement or reassurance. Such things had no place in battle. They each were playing their part and this beast was the last thing standing in their way. She dove through the portal, landing square in its gelatinous eye, part of it had already been torn open by Josette, a feat Amari would have to later thank the girl for, if she ever remembered. (And no doubt for the next month she'd sleep with damn shoes on. Monster eye juice between the toes does not make for good feel times)

The eyes were no longer her target. Josette made sure of that. Instead, Amari slid down, sword held high over her head as she let out an almighty scream of vehement rage, she slid past the writhing tentacles, past a dozen more eyes and...

plop

Into the beasts gaping mouth, she landed on its tongue and one false move would land her into a stomach filled with acid.

I've been through worse...

She repeated to herself as she lifted the sword high above her head, the blade lashed out at the monster and the snakes head dug into the beasts flesh. It's teeth sinking into the roof of its mouth. The skin and flesh around the bite began to immediately decay and rot.

The dying beast gave out a guttural roar which echoed around the red headed assassin as she held fast to the handle of the blade. It's tentacles began to thrash wildly, but she was safe, at least from the tentacles, within its gaping, dripping maw.

[Hysteria]

Seph was forced to watch as the various warriors did their own thing. With the portal humming next to him and two of the female warriors diving in, Seph knew he had to do something. The rogue pulled back the magic creating the shadow clones and all ten puffed out of existence. That left only the monk to face the tide of horrors.

“Oi! Floaty man!” shouted Seph at Storm, “Save the monk and this guy!”

With his orders given, Seph dived into the portal after Amari. It would be up to Jake, Master Orshi and Storm to keep themselves safe from the tide of horrors that continued to flow from under the monster’s neck.

Seph found himself in free-fall. The portal was high above the monster’s head, just below the glowing crystals. The rogue’s jacket flared behind him, while his eyes were narrowed against the air that rushed passed his face. A few simple words echoed through his mind as he fell… What the fuck was I thinking… The monk has been proven right, despite it all he had followed the two women on their doomed task. One had already ridden down the side of the monster, the second launched herself into the giant mouth. Seph poured magic from his blade through his body and into his hand. Dozens of tiny black petals flowed from his palm a formed a spear. It was comprised of hundreds of the tiny black petals, each one moving over each other to form a continuously churning mass of razor sharp death. The rogue threw the spear at one of the remaining monster’s eyes and then prepared to try and thrust his sword into the beast to slow his decent. All the while he felt like the biggest fool in Radasanth.

* * * *

The giant tentacle monster roared with pain. The first of its eyes has been sliced in two by the horse blade; the second was struck by Ma herself and exploded in a disgusting burst of burnt eye-juice. A third eye was struck by the spear summoned by Seph. The twisting, churning blades tunnelled through the eye and deep into her flesh. The creature’s mouth, until then permanently agape, started to close and threatened to crush Amari. Deep injections of She’s venom already worked their fiery acid on the kraken’s gums. So far, the beast has been struck multiple times, and yet the attacks had crippled rather than killed.

It would be left to the remaining warriors, either the three spread around the giant monster or the three facing the barrage of tentacle horrors, to strike the beast. The three gaping eye holes offered some chance to inflict mortal damage, or perhaps the pulsating skin beneath the mouth where the tentacle monsters were constantly emerging from. Perhaps even the environment could play a part in the death of the giant horror. The monster was completely unaware of the faun behind it.

[Jake Narmolanya]

Jake watched three warriors jump through his portal, and emerge in a series of flashes from its twin above the monster. They dealt its eyes and mouth furious damage, but still it roared and writhed. He forced himself to his feet and drew his crystal sword, but the momentary lapse in focus caused the portal to dissipate. Fatigue hung heavy on the young half elf's face, and he clutched his sword in both hands, but still the blade shook with the effort.

Long, hear my call. I need your help again. The sword vibrated slightly and the ethereal green dragon appeared next to Jake. She floated in front of him, long body weaving sinuously to a stop. The half elf reached out a hand. Long seemed to be made of nothing but light, and yet his hand struck solid matter. Warm, but not quite fleshy nor scaly, just... there. Long tossed her head like a horse. The indication seemed clear. Jake clambered atop the dragon's back and away they flew!

... Slowly. Fortunately they went almost straight up, above the seething mass of nightmare creatures conjured by the main monster. As they neared the gaping maw more tentacles struck at them. Jake's sword carved a protective swathe around them. He had not ridden since the recent loss of his late steed Gunner, but he was well practiced in the art of mounted combat. He shifted from one handed grips to two, stabbing and slashing at the tendrils, even using the sword to push some of the larger ones away. With all the speed of a young grandmother out for a brisk stroll, Long and Jake navigated the treacherous airspace.

Eventually they neared a point where they were within a proximity of Philomel, Amari, and Josette. They hovered some yards off the ground, still weaving slightly. Tentacles lashed angrily at them, but between the dragon's movement and the half elf's blade, the pair remained untouched.

The sword had become an anvil in Jake's hands. He no longer employed single-handed grips for fear he might lose the weapon entirely. Its curved blade rose and fell, the keen edge scoring deep hits among the different sized tendrils. Jake's chest sagged with each breath. The tentacles had not touched them... for the moment. But he knew he could not maintain the pace for long. Soon, he would be overwhelmed.

Within the sword, and beneath him in Long's body, he sensed a swelling of magical energies. Whatever is going on, I sure hope it's something more helpful than a bunch of wooden spikes.

[Philomel]

THUNDER.

The room filled with the cacophanous roar of rock, ground and foundation shuddering together. Stone met earth, pebble met boulder as the entire section of the cavern shook with violent spasms. In an arc the size of a thin angle at the point of origin, but rapidly expanding as the vibrations fled out from there, the force of furious nature travelled towards the barbarous kraken head. Four eyes had been injured, four eyes blinked still - but none of those eyes were focused on the creature behind it which had appeared from rocky portal.

The crystals above sang with melancholy as the furthest remanants of the earthquake reached them. Tinkling in delight they merely hinted at what the two hooves, planted into the ground just a few metres from the beast, had in store. It was horror and vengeance, instinct and rage, dust, blood and bone that shattered the earth into lines, cracks and splinters, all born from the power of the goat.

Direct went the cavern convulsion, straight to the unseeing behemoth head. The mighty goat let out the greatest bleat, powerful and demonstrative, crying:

"Here I am. Here is where I have been. Here is where I will end you!"

But before the creature could move to strike back, before it could utter any phrases or actions of vengeance, the great caprine monster that was Philomel vanished into the earth. She left her powerful quake to make its mark, and shatter whatever bones they might be able to sunder. Maybe an eye or two rolled around to try to search for her, and maybe the tentacles would dance with rage, but she would be gone. She was gone, through rock and dust and dirt, appearing to -

Collapsing. Falling down, as she struggled to breathe in and her body, already through hardships and trials, began to shimmer at the outline. Veridian ran to her, over to where she emerged from the ground a few metres from him. Rapidly her body was rejecting the violence of her dire goat form, crying out as the energy needed to sustain it, to keep up that magic was wreaking through her. It could no longer be contained, there was nothing more, except to turn back into the perfect form that she had been born in.

Heart collapsing to a third of the size, skin moulting and peeling from her flesh, slowly the goat turned back into the faun. It left her shaking, shuddering, gasping as her mind was suddenly set back to one of reason. And she became what she had always been; the thinker, strategist, whore, left naked and bare, without any weapons.

Save for the dull clink of the rabbit sword now dropping from nowhere, back into existence beside her.

Veridian nuzzled her gently and moaned in his silky voice. He let his soft fur glide against her cheek as he settled down to help her transforming body.

You have found me, he murmured, And now you can rest.

Philomel sighed, long and deep, given what she could, for now. She closed her eyes as he closed his, and together they fell into a mental state of relaxation, letting the earthquake take its work and admitting to one another that their forms today had done well. Too well.

Mediation. Taking in the silence, reaching out. Holding on, knowing that they had no idea where they were but at least they were together. In harmony. Mentally connected. The two of them, hiding behind the rock. A duet, a pair a -

A third. A rumbling deep in the rockbed of the planet. A source of fire and fury and anger. The last of the three, finally coming, eating through the soil to fight where they could no longer.

Delath the rock dragon had finally arrived.

[Josette]

Up and over the lip of the lake they rose. Josette heaved an audible sigh of relief as they continued to put distance between themselves and the beast, for if she had not had Ma, she doubted she would have made it out alive. One hand gripped the mare's flaming mane, though the blaze did not burn her bare skin. The other inched forward along Ma's neck, the muscles rippling beneath Josette's palm, and she gave her savior a pat. How many times had a horse saved her life? How many more instances would there be?

The pair neared the edge of the cavern, slowing to a bouncing trot as they drew closer to the waiting warriors. Some appeared too weak to continue, hunched against the rugged wall, or clutching various body parts. Yet even as the individuals settled in to rest, the tentacled minions continued to swarm. The raven-haired woman's lips drew into a thin white line as she glanced back at the behemoth. It continued to bellow in outrage, the sound drowning out all other things; were Ma a more skittish mount, Josette imagined she would have been thrown long ago. Blinded now, the creature's movements were more panicked. She was grateful that she had fled when she did.

But the girl with the pink hair remained, trapped in the mouth of the monster. Jake, now mounted atop his dragon, drew closer as well. They rode into the fight, as she had, yet they remained while she had left. A powerful urge to return gripped her, but the knight kept her sights on the flood of smaller monsters. Who would protect the others were she to leave once more? She and Ma had damaged two eyes, and perhaps that was enough for now.

So Josette threw her right leg up and over Ma's withers, and slid until her boots met hard, packed earth. Now riderless, even the enormous mare positioned herself between the charging tentacle-creatures and the struggling soldiers. Again, Josette mused, they had the same idea.

The woman drew her crystal sword, readying to strike when the moment presented itself. But even with her bent legs and balanced center, she began to rock as the earth heaved beneath her.

[Storm Veritas]

The rats burrowed and seemed to attack the sadistic monstrosity from the inside. The faint green apparitions dug in with an unbridled, unrelenting ferocity that ate and chewed and cared not for reason or order. They were entropy, and they were delectable. As he considered how magnificent the little beasts were, his attention was called by a young warrior, pleading with him in his banal little tone to save the monk and the boy. The boy, Veritas considered, was likely more than capable of saving himself. Still; his admirable courage had left him seemingly worthy of concern for the electromancer. Turning to aid the vulnerable young warrior, the wizard focused his…

The hell!?

Stunned, the magician watched as the boy summoned a floating dragon from the black dead of night, a glowing emerald beast which carried him up to safety. With some jealousy, Storm hopped down from his metal chestplate, landing wounded on his sore ankle and limping gingerly. He tossed the breastplate over his shoulder, securing a leather strap across his bare chest. It wasn’t a fit for his torso, but made a hell of a tool for him.

“OK, old man. I guess it’s time to get you the hell out of here.”

The wise monk looked at his junior partner with disdain; a great deal of pride and knowledge was owned by the elder who certainly felt no particular allegiance to a snarky, know-it-all punk of a warlock who showed up to battle in threadbare trousers reeking of whiskey and broken promises. With a sneer, the old warrior simply backpedaled and kept his blade aloft, motioning for tentacles which now moved with a blind anger towards them.

A flailing appendage swung violently at Storm, who held his own Rat blade at the ready. Before the great length of slippery muscle could strike, it had been severed, leaving the serpentine segment to spin wildly and dead by his feet. His sneer tempered, the monk simply gazed towards the brazen electromancer with a squint. He needn’t say anything; his successful assault was enough.

“Point taken. Age before beauty; lead the way.”

Gesturing behind him, Storm put the weight of his body on his strong leg as his injured ankle was held before him in a gentle tap. He hopped and pivoted off the strong foot, easily striking at two more desperately flailing tentacles, the slashes not severing but further wounding the beast.

Do I have enough juice left to just fry this f*cking pig?

He pondered for a moment, but decided upon discretion for now. Backpedaling slowly with the monk, he was physically drained. Several powerful blasts, the hovering, and the concussion that still spun his mind a touch had taken their toll on the grouchy old veteran. Should he attempt to finish the cephalopodic swell of terribly, there was a good chance he’d be out on his feet, and far too vulnerable for whatever next insane wave of evil came pouring out.

No, screw it, I can feel that rumble underfoot. Phi’s little buddy. I just need to get the hell out of here.

The monk moved backward, and with him the wizard hopped away, yearning for safety.

[Mari]

It worked.

Well...Sort of.

The signs of rot and decay continued to spread from the bite that her snake blade left, Amari would have struck again if it were not for more pressing matters...Literally. The small tooth riddled opening began to close, and Amari knew she had to prioritize not being eaten over striking it again. "Shit." she grit her teeth as she sloshed through the pooling saliva and slid between a gap in it's giant teeth which seemed more for show than anything else.

In her cavernous adventures, Amari had missed a few things that occurred on the outside;

The first thing she noticed was the giant hovering ethereal dragon above their heads, aglow in a shimmering emerald hue, and astoundingly enough... with Jake riding it. Seeing it made Amari a tad envious. Her sword was not the only thing to have a psychical representation of it's animal. As amazing as Amari's sword was, it was incomparable to a giant (albeit slow) dragon. It's redeeming factor was how well it seemed to mesh with her persona and character, Amari never really understood the whole 'your blade is an extension of you' crap until she held the crystal sword in her head, working in unison with it.

Another thing she noticed, was the distinct lack of a floating half naked man in the air. A quick scan of the area found him with an older man she did not recognise. Storm was backing away slowly as he tore at the onslaught of tentacles that persisted to fell them. Another rumble vibrated the cave, and Amari could hazard a guess that the snarky man knew exactly what was coming, and that it may be a good idea to follow suit and attempt to escape.

Alas, Amari was never one to follow through on 'good ideas'

There was another rumble, followed by the ferocious and threatening bleat of a goat.

Hang on that doesn't fucking sound right... Amari thought to herself as she gripped onto the slimy beasts body, hauling herself back up onto its head, she planted a foot into one of its smaller eyes for good measure, shivering as it tore through the thing and her soaked sock landed in viscous ichor.

There, behind the writhing tentacle monster was another monster, a giant goat lady who looked remarkably like Philomel. "Well fuck me sidweays..." Amari muttered, there wasn't much else to say, what does one say when they see a giant goat lady attacking an even larger tentacle blob? Just as quickly as Amari caught sight of the monstrous Philomel, the woman was gone again, disappearing underground.

Amari tore her attention away from Philomel, away from Josette and the mighty fire horse, away from Storm and the old man, and away from the half elf riding a dragon.

Amari ignored the violent tremors and turned her gaze downward to the monster, several of its remaining eyes were focused on her. It's tentacles flailed wildly around them, but it dare not strike its own body. With a guttoral roar it tried to heave her off of it.

Amari braced herself. "Not today fucker!" She hissed as she lowered her form, half crawling and half clawing her way across its many eyes being sure to stamp out any still blinking pupil with a foot or a fist. Amari neared the largest of the eyes, already gouged out by Josette. "Don't fail me now snake." She drove the slithering creature toward the eye and again, the snake head made contact, this time with the delicate flesh beneath the creatures eye.

The venom took its toll, instantaneously rotting and blackening its flesh. The snake slithered back into a sword shape and Amari was left gripping its handle as the blade was driven deeper into the krakkens skull.

The red headed assassin was dripping in saliva, eye gunk, blood, chunks of flesh, and who knows what else. She stank to high hell and her breathing was staggered. But to hell if she was going to let this thing beat her. Amari's left hand glowed an angry red, her energy was almost expelled but she still had fight in her.

With a final push Amari lifted her hand above her head and then drove it deep into the monsters flesh, her hands slicing through it like a burning knife, the scent of seared skin and meat stung her nostrils and caused her eyes to water but Amari did not stop, instead, she moved her hand upwards, continuing to tear the beast apart from the inside.

[Hysteria]

The cavern echoed with the sounds of violence. Battle would have been the word to choose, if indeed there had been equal fighting on both sides. The horror and warriors continued dancing as they had since it appeared. The giant, bulbous body of the horror waddled towards the cavern wall as its minions spread out like a spiked, tentacled wave beneath it. Amari and Seph were like specks on the giant’s face, but specks that had managed to nearly completely blind it.

The monster roared as sections of its flesh were rotted away by Amari and the snake blade. The creature continued to flail countless numbers of tentacles at the warriors who were spread around its base, but on its body, was a bastion that it could not strike… at least not with its tentacles. The creature’s flesh started to slosh off in gallons. The monster’s skin slipped from its body in thick, mucus-like waves. Amari’s legs were caught within them, as was Seph’s and his sword. Both warriors were dragged with the mucus down towards the base of the creature. If they were not able to free themselves they would meet with the dozens of the small tentacled horrors that waited at the base of the creature. The glue would not be easily shaken off, pressing into it would just spread its hold even further. The giant kraken-like monster speeded up production of the smaller horrors. What was a dozen became thirty, thirty into fifty. The pain and rage of felt by the creature threatened to literally swarm the warriors under the weight of its minions.

The cavern’s floor had nearly returned to the bloodied wasteland that it had been before the cleansing whirlpool of water. The ground was slick with the blood of the tentacles, both the smaller horrors and those of the giant kraken. Despite the warrior’s best laid plans, they had not managed to strike the critical blow needed to end the giant. Instead they continued to make superficial attacks against the creature. Dozens of horrors had been slain, and dozens of tentacles cut. What would be needed to strike the creature down? An earthquake under the monster slowed its movements, but failed to hurt the gelatinous body. Perhaps soon they would find a way to strike it down. If they did not, they would surely lose the battle of attrition.

[Philomel]

Once upon a time there was a group of goddesses. And they were deities of nature, with the power to give life and take them away. To some these goddesses were merely an arrant thought, some spare holies that were lesser than their own, mightier ones. It was true that the many races crawling over the face of Althanas had each their own creators and pantheons, but these goddesses were powerful. They were mighty. They had strength ... and creations of their own.

One such goddess was the goddess of certain trees, Drys the Fair. With hair as soft as wheat sheaves and a heart as determined as a havian stallion, she set about making her own mark upon the world. With love and with attention she made the earth-spirit kin, born as they are under her tree. And as a gift to the bipedal races she gave fauns, into whom she poured her hope and joy. As time passed, however, and gods came and went, the unending Tap securing its future, and the Ancients were given their name, the fauns lowered themselves in her expectations. The holy drink they made, called headbutt by the many, was drunk to excess, and the Fertility Festival, the Gersh'Ra, became something of an orgy for fanatics. Drys was horrified to find her children thus so, and she began to search until she found a possible saviour for her beloved people.

And search she did. And find she did. In a small brothel called the Crouching Tiger, tucked away in the backstreets of Radasanth, in the heart of a young faun by the name of Philomel. In Philomel Drys found the passion and the strength to continue on, she found the power and ability to fight where others would not. And she found the love of an earth-spirit, the other race Drys had helped to make, and thus she blessed the faun with her power, devotion and love. She gave her strength, and gave her magic, and in time she gave her a gods-be-damned, flightless but not failing, rock and earth dragon.

A dragon who was currently bursting from the very ground that the behemoth squid was upon.

It started as a crack. A rumble. And in a matter of seconds the earth split hard into two. Spilling from the ruined, and still damp, cavern floor, Delath the mighty reared out his ugly head. Twenty metres from nose tip to tail he stood as brown and mottled as the colours of the earth. His claws were like daggers, crushing into the ground, and his maw was open, hungrily tasting the air before his inevitable battle. From elsewhere within the cave he felt the presence of his mistress and guide, Philomel van der Aart, the One With The Hooves, and her ever present companion, the fox thing. Eyes darted around, spying mistress-sized figures running around beside and away from him, as he heaved out the rest of his body from the earth.

Now completely out of the rock, surviving the inexorably long journey under sea and through moutains, Delath twisted until he could see the monster before him. Its arms failed and its surviving eyes blinked, though it was clearly ill in some way as its skin was melting and turning into ... well. Black muck. Not the type of muck that dragons liked, for it wriggled and jiggled before him. Sharply, the earth dragon stomped a foot on one and it lightly went squelch! under it. Still there were more, spasming out from from the central kraken like angry hatchling spiders.

Delath considered what he could see, and what he knew. Though his intelligence was not like that of the master strategist Philomel he could still reason, and consider. He saw a battle before him, coming in and out of ability and winning, and it was not an easy one. It looked as though some fighters had already died. And they carried with them each a glowing sword of slightly different colours. They were the same shape, however, of that great blade that his mistress had pulled out of the monster rabbit not a short while ago.

A sword for a captain, for a hero. Delath swished his tail and let out a grumpy grunt, and then he saw a red-haired girl began to slip on muck. It was the same girl that he had seen in Philomel's mind before.

Right. So focus on her.

He nodded to himself, and then surged forwards. His maw opened once more, but it did not spill out a roar, or a tongue of flame. Instead it began to spew a cloud of mist. In that cloud of mist were tiny seedlings, and they - well they had a magic of their own. Like spores they would land on the closest material they could find - that being the tentacled beast here - and then begin to grow lavish vines that could bind and constrict. Some simple moments later (two seconds to be precise) flowers would then grow - flowers that would soon bloom a dust that would begin to eat savagely away at the very flesh of the mutating beast, eating it from the outside in.

First, however, before those flowers bloomed, Delath needed to get the girl away - and probably perhaps her slipping friend who was there also. That was easy - as he threw himself, and his deathly breath at the enemy, he raised a paw and swatted at the beings. They were freed with a single blow to their sides, likely sending them catapulting halfway across the cavern. But that would mean at least they were out of the way - and that was all he needed to do. After all, he was a dragon, and he knew how to handle existence. He knew the world needed him, with his proud heritage and glorious beauty. He was saving those two for his mistress. And that was it.

What Delath is supposed to look like.

[Hysteria]

Seph tried to pull his arm free of the thick mucus to no avail. His whole body was slowly pulled down the side of the beast. There were no other options, he had to launch himself away and trust he could manage the fall. Magic coursed through his body, shifting his physical form into a flash of darkness as he dashed directly out from the creature with a thick slurp as the mucus begrudgingly released its grip. For a moment, the rogue was in free fall, his arms out wide and his face caught in the illuminating crystals above. It was a moment of clarity as time seemed to slow. Seph looked up at the giant crystals above, and for the first time he noticed the slight sway. The faun’s reckless earth magic had driven the crystals close to collapse, perhaps a few knocks might just dislodge them.

The rogue pulled against his own magic, drawing five earthen fists from the air. Focusing his earth sense on the crystals, their structure and form, but most importantly, the cracks. The five fists shot towards them, smashing into the glowing formations in a shower of glowing sparks. With that rogue was left to fall into the waiting tentacles of the horrors below. Be braced himself, unsure if he had signed his death warrant. With a thud Seph hit the ground and the air was knocked from his lungs. He expected to be set upon instantly… but instead he found himself bouncing up and down. The rogue’s nightly pray to the Thayne of luck had paid off and he found himself upon the back of Delath. It may have been rather unceremoniously so, given his sprawled, backwards sitting on the creature’s back. At least, he thought as he held on for dear life, he hadn’t died.

High above the, perhaps temporarily, safe rogue the crystals started to fall. Large chunks of glowing rock smashed into the giant creature. The light magic of the mysterious crystals were suddenly thrust into the darkness of the creature, and neither liked it. The crystals burnt through the giant monster’s flesh. The creature would have perhaps been able withstand the barrage, but the large gaping wounds in the creature’s eyes offered the perfect purchase for the crystals to burn through the monster’s flesh.

The monster had been sustained in its assault, albeit slow. As the crystals burn through the giant’s head towards what constituted as its brain, the creature entered its death throws. Tentacles, larger than a human started to flail. They struck everything, the ground, the sides of the cavern, even the crystals upon the roof. They, and the falling crystals could all spell certain death for the warriors, only moments from victory.