...
Seething in anger, the thinly preacher snapped her teeth at the weapon being set free.
But they could do little else but curse in vain as the elongated blade abruptly swung and slapped them to the side, crushing them into the stone like a spatula. The pale lights lessened visibly, though it was hard to see if it was because it was actually destroyed or because the others were stepping over the crumbled body, undeterred at all by the loss. It wasn't clear whether this apathy was because they simply lost the ability to properly feel, the mindless eyes of the mob staring unflinching to the violence, or because they were able to recover any losses seemingly at will. As to answer the question, a few of these ceremonial figures quickly stopped their march. They appear to be conducting a similar ritual as they did with another of their fallen comrades. Although this one seemed there needed more time and intricacy to recover one of these from the beyond. The flames of the lanterns now blinked, splashing speckles of glittering dust at the back as a low chanting filled the hallway. The remaining couple pointed their flesh-dripped fingers and the twisted mob charged their final stretch towards the party. The discomforting metal scraping reached a screeching climax now, the sound bouncing off the stone walls and into the diverging atrium like a deathly wail.
The element of surprise and stealth going forward must be long gone at this point. Shuffling and faint rumbles can be felt rising up from deep below as the temple and her maddened inhabitants began to awaken. May a path of blood be fitting for the heroes meant to reclaim a dying world, befitting for those who carry their very sins like shackles.
@Eklispe@Jerkchicken@Rune_Alchemist
The two flesh-hounds spawned earlier lunged first, barreling at a breakneck speed alongside the walls towards the 'Unnamed' one and Isabella, seeing their obvious fatigue. The crawling body halves, though more like grotesque spiders, seemed happy to engorge themselves as they leapt with rib-jaws drooling black sludge.
Just as one creature was about to pounce upon Isabella, the other attacking in unison at an opposing angle that rendered it impossible to react for ordinary reflexes, a large black shard pierced through one of them and zoomed down the hall. That left only one remaining to finish the action. The sudden shard was produced from the wolf-bow of Solomon, which provided a greater effect that they, or anyone, might've expected. The arrow-spear brought the corpse like a wrecking ball into the mob, smashing a number of the twisted backwards as his intial target disappeared in the sudden chaos. The light faded noticeably as another lantern was, without doubt, destroyed by the impact. Even if his target were to survive, that alone was a great victory. An upcast of smoke and unsettled dust now filled the hallway, only a twinkling of the remaining lanterns left to illuminate the shadow printed plumes cast forth.
These weapons have more power than it seemed at first. But at what cost? The beastly maw had bit into the flesh around his wrist, siphoning his strength and lapping up his blood to use for fuel. He would suddenly feel drained, the large weapon growing almost unbearably heavy in his arms. Perhaps the bow component was some sort of last-resort?
@Everyone
Only a few of the twisted beings made it past this point, snarling as they rushed towards those in the front, seemingly unaware of the lapsing in their comrades.
Closer up, they were no larger than any other ordinary human, save for the disproportionate growths here and there, like aged shrubbery sprouting twined limbs and peculiarly swollen at other places. They appeared to be wearing aged garbs of leather and cloak, akin to old adventurers, rusted ornate blades and spearheads long melded into their hardened, blackened arms. Faded heraldry can be seen on the frayed clothing still pinned to their spined backsides. Only a glimpse of intelligence can be seen in their hollowed eyes, staring with a primal focus on the invaders. Though all sense of control or skill has been lost to them, the grayed husks reduced to swinging around the deadly appendages wildly, hoping to land hits. Getting caught in these wide, unfocused arcs would still prove dangerous, lethal even, to those frailer amongst yourselves.
The fettered smoke behind these separated blighted provided the party with some cover, but it also made it hard to tell exactly when more might leap out or how many were left. This was a good chance to pick off these few before the mob salvages, or to try and find another option. Retreating down one of the other hallways was made a possibility again through the guise of the smoke, but judging by the commotion beneath their feet, there probably wasn't anywhere left safe to go. Then again, the sounds to the East seemed quite remote and far-away, so maybe there was a chance. With any sort of luck left, there might still be pockets of emptiness somewhere in the massive temple.
...
Daemos