[center][b][u][h1]Catacombs: Nearest Ssarak and Tyrael[/h1][/u][/b][/center]

They had been traveling for days, their tails slithering across the stone and rough terrain as they were persuaded for days by the Ridge Hound pack. It had been a good idea at first until the creatures had turned upon them, still starving even after wiping out the whole Yasomere army. They pressed the large group of hundreds into the Ravine but only eleven made it to the college. It was the Naga that opened the seals Tyrael had set, their intelligence and quick thinking barely keeping them ahead of the monsters hunting them down. Only time of great risk did Naga ever manage to work together, their minds united and bodies moved like a well oiled machine in defending the last matriarch from falling. 

Lyamis, Marya’s brother, was among those individuals. 

The ridge hound reptile like bodies flickered in then out, each time their moves made to avoid the stabbing weapons greeting their approach. Some were struck and promptly became a new meal for their brethren causing Lyamis to mentally huff in disgust at the waste and lacking loyalty. His spear darted in again to nail a charging hound as the point buried itself into the creature’s shoulder, oozing fresh blood across its wrinkled hide. It easily toppled to its side whimpering  while Lyamis jerked his weapon free viciously. Immediately it tried to wiggle back onto its feet before another Ridge Hound collided with its throat, ripping it out. Another went to the side, slashing the underbelly to cause intestines to crumble out across the floor. In a rabid frenzy the animal was becoming a meal for seven to eight creatures of its own kin. 

Each time one crumbled down, the ridge hound was hauled away to rip into pieces and devour. This made making a wall of flesh between his tribe and the attacks difficult when the ‘bricks’ were vanishing. As a sister covered his flank, Lyamis looked over his shoulder. Huddled in the corner was the single elderly Naga, Amaryllis, and the remaining matriarch for Mar’s tribe. Her skin was albino and smooth, all color lost when she stopped going out into the sun when she became the head. Her white hair hung off her skull and draped down past her shoulder blades, her red eyes flickered with a calm and steady gaze. 


Lyamis spared only a moment when he spotted another female Naga crumble under the sheer numbers. Ridge hounds bite and clawed, her screams started then ended suddenly. Immediately several were flung from the now ‘dead’ corpse while she rose upright, her eyes empty and fangs out. Pieces of flesh dangled off her bones exposing the red and white underneath the flesh. Her fingers no longer grasped her weapon when she turned toward Lyamis, her mouth opened hissed, as she lounged forward. Lyamis’ weapon went up instantly allowing her fingers to seize the handle of his spear. Larger weight easily sent him back as she snapped her jaws, stretching her neck out to sink her fangs in.