Vile
The horror poked a slimy appendage from the crevice startling the man on the horse. A black hook on the end of a bristly spear-like arm. Diodes and gears whirred and whizzed, encrusted into the flesh. The rider gawked and said nothing as seven more legs appeared, followed by a great hairy black mass of fangs and eyes. The head was augmented too-wires popped and sizzled along the horrors mechanic carapace...
Then it spoke.
"Give me the horse human, I am hungry and you are alone," it said in a coarse, trite voice. The words were fuzzy and analog, as if recorded centuries ago..
The man considered the horror. He knew they lived up here in the high wintry passes, had seen them in ancient charcoal sketches on cavern walls; heard Momma Nelly talk about them in a story or two. But the thing was beyond imagining, beyond a few spoken words in a dingy saloon. It was horror incarnate. But it was wrong about one thing-the man was armed.
The spider lunged and the horse bucked the man back. But the spell was already in his mind-the words spinning from his lips in no more than a whisper...
Blue flame crept from the mans fingers, even as he slammed into the ground, bolts of eldritch fire rifled across the air. The spider halted the assault on the horse as the spell struck it in the cephalothorax, right behind the eyes. Springs and gears flew from it's head all covered in green ichor.
The horse was screaming, kicking and spinning in the dirt road, foaming green death from curled lips. Two fang marks bled freely from its neck. It lay still suddenly.
The blue fire of the spell dissipated. The horror hissed and retreated further, but not before it stuck one long leg into the horses ribs and dragged it along with it, shimming its hairy black mass into the hole.
"Now you owe me a horse, monster," said the man wiping the dirt from his long black leather coat.
The spider crept further into the cave it had emerged from. "Come into the dark sorcerer," it said in a raspy voice. "See what I have for you down here."
"I am afeared of no dark, monster," said the man stalking towards it. Two pistols emerged from holsters, charged with eldritch flame. He ran after the son-of-a-bitch firing blue bolts of death..
Then it spoke.
"Give me the horse human, I am hungry and you are alone," it said in a coarse, trite voice. The words were fuzzy and analog, as if recorded centuries ago..
The man considered the horror. He knew they lived up here in the high wintry passes, had seen them in ancient charcoal sketches on cavern walls; heard Momma Nelly talk about them in a story or two. But the thing was beyond imagining, beyond a few spoken words in a dingy saloon. It was horror incarnate. But it was wrong about one thing-the man was armed.
The spider lunged and the horse bucked the man back. But the spell was already in his mind-the words spinning from his lips in no more than a whisper...
Blue flame crept from the mans fingers, even as he slammed into the ground, bolts of eldritch fire rifled across the air. The spider halted the assault on the horse as the spell struck it in the cephalothorax, right behind the eyes. Springs and gears flew from it's head all covered in green ichor.
The horse was screaming, kicking and spinning in the dirt road, foaming green death from curled lips. Two fang marks bled freely from its neck. It lay still suddenly.
The blue fire of the spell dissipated. The horror hissed and retreated further, but not before it stuck one long leg into the horses ribs and dragged it along with it, shimming its hairy black mass into the hole.
"Now you owe me a horse, monster," said the man wiping the dirt from his long black leather coat.
The spider crept further into the cave it had emerged from. "Come into the dark sorcerer," it said in a raspy voice. "See what I have for you down here."
"I am afeared of no dark, monster," said the man stalking towards it. Two pistols emerged from holsters, charged with eldritch flame. He ran after the son-of-a-bitch firing blue bolts of death..
Please go to the OOC...
