Andorax
2012-05-01, 12:55 PM
Adapted from an Illithid encounter I once utilized in a play-by-post I ran years back.
The battle actually ran for about 20 rounds...which, if you've ever done play by post...is a long time.
Zanas - Shadow Elf Rogue
Gron'Rindul - Dwarven Cleric
Khasar - Tuigan Barbarian
Qayan - Tiefling Rogue/Fighter/Wizard
Valarion - Elf Wizard
As Gron'rindul and Qayan consider the stocks, Valarion and Khasar move further into the second dome, and Zanas backtracks to explore the column of the first.
Qayan cannot make out anything in particular about the wounds...they seem "normal", so far as four burrowing tentacle wounds could be considered such.
Valarion and Khasar find the second dome to be much as the first...Valarion's keen Elven sight just making out another distant tunnel leading away from the northern part of the dome.
Zanas creeps softly into the chamber. First, and most noticible, is a small pool, perhaps ten feet across, within the center of the room. The smell of brine is immediately apparent. Other than that, much of the room is taken up with a few chairs, a couple of tables. A bulky iron aparatus of unknowable nature sits partly upon the stone floor and partly atop the edge of one table.
The ceiling of this chamber rises well into the thickness of the column itself. Fully thirty feet in height, it appears there are several more shelves built into the stone itself, and something that looks like a strangely-built hammock hanging within but a few feet of the ceiling.
"Come, Valarion, lets see what is inside this column." Khasar says as curiousity gets the better of him. He then proceeds to the southern entrance of the northwestern column.
Gron'rindul moves himself in a position where he can almost see the inside of both columns, but put most of his attention on Zanas.
As Khasar begins to head for the second column, he feels a strong itching sensation in the back of his clawed hand. The itching soon becomes extreme and, moments later, the claws draw back, the hand shrinks inward upon itself, and is returned to normal.
A brief sensation of tiredness, followed by one of readiness, flows through Khasar.
Khasar nods his head and pauses for a moment to mental measure out the time it took the claw to retract. He then reaches behind his back and draws spell-breaker and proceeds to the column.
Valarion follows Khasar into the column and inspects the inside of it, and then goes back to the first small corridor leading left from the first dome for further exploration.
The second column has a smaller circular chamber. Unbeknownst to you presently, it is much like the first one, with a small briney pool and several tables and chairs. There are several odd objects scattered about the room...strange-shaped tools, strips of what may be humanoid flesh, even a curious (yet disgusting) object lying upon one of the chairs that looks like a fleshy sack with several bones protruding at various odd angles.
Your attention, however, is more immediately captured by the waves of psychic force beating down upon you from above, and by the sound of a large iron portcullus that makes an echoing clang as it drops down mid-corridor.
Combat has begun.
Hearing the portcullus fall, Zanas snatches the light crossbow from its case, darting across the distance like a dark blur, scarcely noticible and incredibly swift. She comes to rest, not even breathing hard, just alongside the tunnel.
Qayan darts forward as well, hurling himself upon the portcullus and heaving upwards. The portcullus shakes, and lifts a few inches, but then drops again.
The alien, milky-white eyes of the Illithid gaze down upon Valarion and Khasar, and once more a wave of psychic force hurtles down upon them. Reeling from the first blow, the second is too much to overcome. Overwhelmed by the psychic assault, Valarion and Khasar both drop to the ground, unconscious.
Cursing upon seeing the portcullus go down, Gron'rindul moves quickly over to it, in preperation of lifting it.
No! They have fallen! This is not good, they could be killed in front of our eyes by that . . . thing!
Not seeing the Mind Flayer yet, and knowing that she would just crowd the others at the porticullis, Zanas reaches into her pouch, pulls out a vial of poison, and applys it to a crossbow bolt, locking the bolt into place and waiting.
Clenching his teeth, determination on his face, Qayan tries again to lift the portcullus, but still cannot quite manage the weight. He stares hopelessly as Valarion's body is dragged out of view.
Summoning the power of Clangeddin, Gron'rindul intones, and pours strength into Qayan from Clangeddin's might.
Silently, Zanas waits, hoping for an opportunity to slip past and find her target.
Qayan once again heaves upon the large iron portcullus, and the bars lift a handspan, then halt. It would seem that they have slipped out of alignment from the tracks in which they fell. The strain of holding such weight overcomes Qayan, and once again he drops the iron grating.
The silence in the room ahead is like a sentance of doom.
Seeing the latest attempt fail, Gronrindul will squeeze in next to Quayan, and aid him in lifting the portcullus. Gron'rindul braces himself, preparing for Qayan's next effort, gazing upwards to try to shift the heavy grate into the off-centered channels.
Not good! Valarion has been dragged off! This means. . . No! That cannot happen! Feeling very disturbed and helpless, Zanas cannot think of anything to do. She decides to poison another bolt, seeing nothing else, and carefully tucks the second poisoned bolt into her belt, ready to fire it as needed.
With a cry partly of exertion, partly of pain as the muscles in his back and shoulders begin to scream in agony, Qayan thrusts the portcullus upwards. Guided by Gron'rindul, who also lends a hand lifting it, the heavy grate comes to rest nearly at shoulder level. Qayan's arms aquiver, he is able to hold the grate steady...for now.
Again, the room lies silent.
Steeling himself with his lord's power, Gron'rindul goes forward into the room, looking west and upwards. He is immediately met with two grim sights. To the west, he finds Valarion. His hands are bound above him, hanging from sort of hook set in the wall 20' off the ground. About 5' to the right (and above) Valarion is a large iron lever...you would guess the trigger for the portcullus.
East of him, however, is where his quary floats. The Illithid gazes down at the new intruder, no expression visible in his milky white eyes. More disturbing, however, are the tentacles writhing about below his face. Reaching nearly to the creature's two-toed boots, the tentacles each seem to end in a sharp, hollow-pointed shaft, halfway between a broad spearhead and an impossibly-large needle.
Zanas slips by Qayan, preparing to shoot the Mind Flayer. "Wait, they blast things. Maybe if we spread out, he will pay a little less attention to each of us!" Zanas then moves past Gron'rindul, into the north-eastern area of the room. Only after moving to her new position does she realise she's standing almost directly below the creature! A moment's shock, and taking in the full room, is enough for her to briefly forget about her loaded crossbow.
With a loud clang, the portcullus comes crashing to the floor. Qayan snatches the pistol from out of his belt, striding into the room with grim determination. He takes aim, and fires at the floating creature, but his shot goes wide to the right.
An almost physical sense of psychic force crashes down upon the party, but each in your own way, you have steeled yourselves against it and withstand the blow.
Groggily, Khasar begins to come 'round. Valarion, likewise, regains consciousness, but it is to agonizing pain as his arms protest their rough treatment!
Gron'rindul again invokes the Lord of Battle, summoning forth a glowing axe, which immediately attempts to cleave into the illithids side. Moving to underneath Valarion, he draw forth his small axe, glanceing upwards again to see, to his dismay, that his glowing axe has shattered against the foul creature. Gron'rindul calls out, "This is no ordinary illithid! Be wary!"
Focusing his strength, Valarion calls out, "Argggh... your simple torture device will not stop me, I am a Thayan wizard. You want to have some fun? How about standing on the ground and wrestle with that big guy with your filthy tentacles? Don't you like that?" Incanting a spell even though bound, Valarion unleashes the spell which battles the mind of the mind flayer. He feels tendrils of telepathic communication rebounding towards him as his spell breaks like a wave upon the rocks. family:georgia;"Foolish Elfling Wizard...if these other rabble hadn't intervened, that is exactly what I had intended...a bit of sport."
Leaving Spellbreaker on the ground where it fell from his unconcious hands Khasar shakily makes his way to his feet at readies his bow, as a howl of rage erupts from his lungs, and the point of a deadly longshaft aims towards the creature above.
Slightly shocked by her stupidity at blindly running into the room, Zanas composes herself and runs to the other side of the room. She then turns and shoots at the odd Mind Flayer, her crossbow bolt striking it in the shoulder, and drawing a pain-induced writing of the four long, spiked tentacles.
Cursing under his breath at his errant shot, Qayan dives forward into a roll to the opposite side of the room. Springing back up to his feet, the tiefling produces a throwing axe and – using his roll for added momentum – hurls it skyward toward the hovering aberration. Alas, the throw also goes aside, clattering against the ceiling.
Qayan is afforded no time to curse, however...another wave of psychic force rains down upon the floor of the chamber, and it staggers him, nearly bringing him to his knees. Zanas' crossbow clatters to the ground, as both hands are thrown forward to catch herself upon the top of the table, agony plain on her face. Khasar is too far gone in his rage to let this dissuade him again, and Gron'rindul perserveres through sheer Dwarven determination.
Once again, Valarion hears a thought in his mind. family:georgia;"Though perhaps...yes, the stout Dwarf creature seems quite stubborn. Perhaps he might be better sport after all, when the tall one finally quits his foaming and holds still."
Cursing under his breath, Gron'rinul readies to hurl his handaxe at the strange illithid if it tries to use any more of its powers.
"Cut me down, else I will be useless for your cause!" Valarion calls out. For the lack of better choices at the moment, Valarion concentrates on the actions of the mind flayer, hoping to take immediate action once his current grim situation has been altered.
With speed born of his rage Khasar looses two arrows at the Mind Flayer. The laughter that rips from his throat bordering on madness as the arrows strike the creature...but seem to do it little harm. Either the creature has some foul constitution strengthening it, or else there is some sort of armor beneith those flowing robes.
The creature begins to drift downward, and as he does so, the spikes on the tentacles drag him along the wall. He comes to rest about eight feet above Qayan and wraps the tentacles about his arms. With a heave, the creature pulls Qayan up, wraping its' arms about his chest as well, and pressing close to the wall, using Qayan as a shield from any further missile attacks.
The tentacles writhe and curl about Qayan's upper arms, and one traces a line of blood across his brow. family:georgia;"Elfling, you are already useless to their cause. Your powers will not harm me, your frame is too weak to do battle. Lie quietly, and your questioning will be...less painful."
"Mindflayer huntings are dangerous. The books are wrong... mindflayer hunting is suicide! Why did not not research something useful like teleportation movements? I don't want to die here, I don't that thing to eat my brain..." Obviously feeling desperate, in his first time against an opponent whose brain cannot be easily dealt with, and an opponent that deals with brains "a different way", Valarion's mind is almost completely blank even without those psionic attacks.
Gron'rindul curses. "By the Silverbeard, I don't see how I can cut you down if I can't even reach you...but I suppose I could try." Gron'rindul moves out in order to get a good line of sight on Valarion, and brings up the hand axe. "Now hold still..." He throws the axe with the intent to sever the cords binding Valarion's wrist. The axe turns end over end, and rings sharply off the stone directly above, dropping down to the desk with a loud thud right nearby Zanas' hand, a large chip marring the blade.
Letting out another growl at seeing his friend in the clutches of a brain eater, Khasar drops his bow and charges the mind flayer. Leaping atop the table, he jumps upwards once more and grabs the creature 'round the waist. Too much for the creature's levitation abilities, it drops Qayan to the ground with a thump.
Hanging in the air, with Khasar about it's waist, the Illithid lashes out downwards with it's bladed tentacles. Khasar manages to keep a solid grasp about the creature, and bat several away, but one drives into his skull near the back, causing an agonizing shudder of pain to pass through the Tuigan. The others continue to lash out at Khasar, darting about and waiting for a chance to strike home.
Seeing Khasar jump at the mindflayer and its response, Valarion utters some meaningless sounds from his throat, then calls out, "Go help Khasar, I am useless anyway, we can't afford to waste anymore time if we are to survive this." He then stares at the struggle between Khasar and the filthy creature, family:georgia;And we will. We will clear you and your friend out of this place. I wouldn't say it's because it's a righteous quest of the dwarf, rather, it's more personal at this point. How would you like your brain served?A
Gron'rindul nods. "You are right. May Clangeddin see us through this battle." Gron'rindul moves to Qayan, and, since he cannot yet reach his foe, attempts to shake Qayan out of his current stupor. Even a strong backhand from Gron'rindul's armored gauntlet fails to bring Qayan 'round though...he still reels under the powerful psychic assault inflicted upon him by the creature.
Glad to finally be fighting up close, where he is more comfortable, Khasar draws his dagger and wraps his legs around the illithids so he can better support himself.
"You are MINE now brain sucker." he shouts with glee as he attacks the creature with his dagger. The blade is driven into the creature's chest as Khasar continues to pull himself upwards, heaving on the blade as a handle. His hand is covered in a thin blue-black ichor. Small bits of mail are visible underneith the robe and through the bleeding wound.
family:georgia;"I think not, manling you wi..." the mental intrusion into Khasar is abruptly cut off as Khasar slams the Illithid's soft, pulpy head into the wall with his free hand, growling "Not interested."
Valarion laughs, but the laughter halts as his action hurts his own body due to the boundage. Letting own a load moan, he resumes snickering. family:georgia;Ooooh it's not looking too good, is it? A bolt there, a cut there; looks like your force of will is not doing much either... hey, you are right! I am useless for their cause, because they don't need me to extract your brain!.
"Silverbeard, ward this one from the evils of this place," intones Gron'rindul, touching Qayan briefly, then climbing up onto the table below the Illithid.
The feel of blood running down his arm and the sound of the illithids head hitting the wall is heaven to Khasar. Letting out a laugh of primal glee Khasar rips the dagger out of the flayer's body and rams the weapon into the side of his neck, where it and his shoulder meet. The blade, however, cannot find another gap, sliding twice off of the under-robe mail. Even so, Khasar looks into its milky white eyes and smiles.
The milky white eyes gaze back at Khasar, and the malelovance blazes forth once more. A psychic blast strikes him, and only him, full-force and point blank...and Khasar grows limp within the Illithid's grasp. The creature drifts upwards, out of Gron'rindul's reach once more, and comes to float again above the briny pool, holding Khasar between himself and Gron'rindul.
family:georgia;"Foolish Elfling," the reply drifts back to Valarion. family:georgia;"You should have been more quiet and respectful. This feedsack may have injured me, but it's fate is now decided.
family:georgia;Respectful? One must first respect oneself, should he wish to be respect by the others, or so as some old wiseman says. You put on these nonsensical... decorations, that I believe do not appeal even to your own kind, how will that command respect? There is also another saying that to be able to be respected, you need to first respect the others. You first fail to respect the local authority, and you fail you respect these victims that you murdered as well, not to mention you did not exactly show us respects by trying to drill holes to our brains later on, how would that induce others to respect you? You know, perhaps I understand, that you squidheads can only receive other's emotions by using magical or supernatural powers eh? False emotions, Mr. Squidhead, you and your kind does not naturally attract true emotions from others, and thus you rely on these supernatural or magical abilities... sad, isn't it? You know, can you comprehend something diffcult such as love? Undoubtfully what you claim to understand are simply figments of your own logic imposed on others... I would say, that...
Gron'rindul screams, "You will not have him while I draw breath!" Allowing his god's power to flow through him, Gron'rindul causes Khasar to double in size. The sudden shift of weight causes Khasar to fall like a stone, hitting the water, and splashing liquid throughout the room. The Illithid is suddenly wrenched downwards, and the tentacle clutching Khasar is severed. No, not quite. A limp, tentacle-like tube hangs from the blade in Khasar's head, but it is hollow. The shortened tentacle writhes angrily, looking out of place amongst the three longer, bladed ones. Meanwhile, Gron'rindul moves off of the end of the table and draws Qayan's other throwing axe.
The Illithid, as far as can be told, is furious. It drops lower, to only about 10' off the ground, and unleashes yet another psychic blast at Gron'rindul, but the blow rolls off of the stubborn dwarf with no harm done.
Valarion snickers mockingly, family:georgia;Ah, that cannot be pretty. Ready to give in now? Your powers surely is strong, but you must have realized by now, that you cannot get all of us at once. Why not flee while you still have the chance? Oh, I am sorry, I meant to say why not "tactically move to a saver location".
Gron'rindul gives out a cry of victory. "Foul and foolish abomination! Now you will perish!" Gron'rindul hurls the axe at the illithid, but the blow once again crashes against a nearby wall, missing the creature entirely. Gron'rindul then moves forward again, scooping up the axe Qayan had so recently thrown.
family:georgia;Be silent, flesh sack! The telepathic shout within Valarion's head echos, and it then followed up by another blast of psychic force...and blackness. Valarion hangs limp from the bindings, leaving Gron'rindul to face the tentacled horror...alone.
Gron'rindul yells, "Stand and face me, coward! You know nothing of bravery save what glimmers are left in the minds you consume. Stand and face your fate! Can you not hear the call of battle?" Gron'rindul tucks the axe in his belt, then summons forth the trumpets of war. A volumnous blast erupts in the air around the Mind Flayer, but it seems completely unfazed.
family:georgia;"You come as thieves in the night. You slay my servant, break my slaves, steal my posessions, assault my person...and now call me out for not fending off invaders as best I am able?" The creature draws a pair of flasks from a pouch at his side. Never breaking eye contact, he runs the bladeless tentacle over their surfaces, stuffs one back in the pouch, and downs the other. family:georgia;"Very well, Dwarf, if you think yourself able. Come...earn the death you've fought for with your stubbornness. I'll give you the first blow." The Illithid drifts to ground level, standing before Gron'rindul and atop Khasar's limp form, tentacles writhing madly like a nest of cobras ready to strike.
Gron'rindul continues to shout at the illithid. "You come to a world where you are not welcome, and feed on the minds of the innocent. You skulk about in the dark, playing formerly free-thinking people like puppets. Nay, it is you and your ilk who are the thieves!" He summons his god's power directly into him and strikes at the tentacled horror before him, but his blow cannot penetrate the armor beneith.
The Illithid's intense gaze continues to burn into Gron'rindul. family:georgia;"People? I do not regard simple creatures such as yourself as people, any more than you would the cattle you feed upon and the mules that serve in your mines. Do you regret your own slavery and slaughter of such creatures? Why, then, should I. You, and your kind are food, nothing more." As he continues this psychic diatribe, the tentacles lash out from left and right. Glancing against the Steel Shell, Gron'rindul manages to dodge the worst of it...but one blade worms in near the shoulder and strikes home. Quickly, he pulls free of it before it can find a hold.
Nearby, Qayan groans, as if beginning to recover. Gron'rindul hears the sound faintly, and has it confirmed for him when the Illithid also turns towards the noise.
Gron'rindul shouts even louder, "Were a cow to speak to me, then I would reconsider. The fact that we can communicate should make you change your mind as to what is and is not food. Perhaps you are right, and I should not be angered at you simply playing out your nature, but neither need you be angry when I am doing what I must." And with that, Gron'rindul swings fiercely with his axe, cutting into the creature's side and causing another spurt of ichorous blood.
The Illithid coolly replies, family:georgia;"Communication? Ask of the surface folk who dwell in the woods. There are those who speak with cows. They do not think them equals, however. And no, I do not blame you...nor your people in the Rift. We all do as we must, as I have done here."
That last comment is punctuated by a blade burrowing into the back of Gron'rindul's neck. The pain is oddly slight, but the presence of the tentacle pressed against his flesh is obvious and irrefutable, and the moment's distraction it affords is enough for the Illithid to glide forward, inside the reach of Gron'rindull's axe. Cold, clammy hands grasp the mail-clad Dwarf, holding him fast.
Still, a glimmer of hope remains. Both Qayan and now Zanas appear to be shaking off the effects that held them fast.
Gron'rindul makes a sweeping grab with his arms, his axe clattering to the floor, and tries to trap the Illithid's writing tentacles against his body...but cannot grasp the slime-covered appendages.
The Illithid, however, is equally unable to get a purchase with the bladed tentacles against Gron'rindul's flesh...his thick arms wildly waving and batting them away. Settling for drawing his foe upwards, the two levitate towards the ceiling.
Qayan and Zanas both stagger back into life, taking in their surroundings anew, with little recollection of the past minute.
Struggling against the writing tentacles, Gron'rindul grasps for the handaxe on his belt. His first attempt is thwarted by the creature's claw-like grasp, but the second time he manages to grab ahold and rip it free!
What has... oh no. Oh no. The Illithid has him. The Illithid has him good. Zanas, staying on the ground, grabs her crossbow. She then loads it, and aims at the Illithid. Remember what he said. If something's fighting someone like that, you can get a good shot at them. Zanas' shot, however, is not as carefully aimed as she would have liked. Gron'rindul, struggling to get his axe, lurches in front of her shot, and the blow deflects off his shoulderplate.
Upon gaining clarity, Qayan quickly assesses the situation and rolls beneath the table to the north. He hurriedly retrieves the Fly scroll from his sling, and begins to incant, forcing himself to focus on the words. He manages to complete the incantation, though it leaves a slight headache in his wake, and he feels himself rising up off the floor to bump gently against the bottom of the table.
The Illithid, infuriated by discovering the others down below are now freed of his influence, redoubles his efforts. Gron'rindul's helm goes flying off, it's chinstrap severed by a tentacle blade, and the three remaining blades burrow into the sides of his skull with a furious frenzy. Turning slowly in midair, the Illithid comes to rest it's back against the wall of the chamber, using Gron'rindul's body as a shield.
Meanwhile, Khasar begins to groan groggily, as if starting to throw off the influence of the Mind Flayer as well.
Cursing, Gron'rindul attempts to wrench his way free of the Illithid. He tries determinidly to yank the tentacles free from his head, but each seems firmly and solidly affixed. A roaring pain begins to swell in Gron'rindul's head.
“Raaaaaah!” Qayan rockets out from underneath the table and plows into the Illithid ramming him against the wall. The Tiefling’s eyes flare as he locks his arm around the loathsome aberration’s rubbery skull, digs his bare hand up under its tentacled maw, and attempts to wrench the beast free from Gron’rindul’s pate. Unable to do aught to stop the rampaging Tiefling, the Illithid simply turns a pupilless milky white eye towards him...glaring perhaps.
Realizing that a crossbow bolt could easily go astray, Zanas holds off on shooting for now. She does, however, take the time to get up and move a bit closer and watches intently for an opening.
The battering of the Dwarf, and the determined interference of the Tiefling, is causing quite a disruption. The Illithid drives the tips of the tentacles in a bit further, but then has them yanked back and nearly pulled free. One misshapen hand presses against Qayan's face, the other is wrapped about Gron'rindul's right wrist, as the creature continues to try to force his way through Gron'rindul's skull.
Realizing that she is of no obvious use to the battle, Zanas starts to look around the room, searching for some sort of mechanism that would release Valarion. Alas, the only mechanism visible is a lever set twenty-five feet up the wall, in the northwest corner.
Gron'rindul yells, "You will not have me!" and attempts again to break free of the Illithid's grasp. Like a steel clamp, the tentacles remain stubbornly affixed to him.
Khasar unsteadily gains his feet and stumbles out of the pool. Drawing Thunder's Edge from off his back, he turns back to the fray, "Drag him down here!" he shouts to his comrades, his voice echoing through out the room, punctuated by the low thunderous rumble of the just-freed blade.
Turning the entire floating melee end-over-end, Qayan crashes the combat to the floor through the use of his magical flight, himself bottommost of the lot. He bites at the abomination’s glaring eye and continues to do everything in his power to thwart the Illithid’s attempt at a meal, but nothing seems to loosen it's grasp upon Gron'rindul.
However, the continued interference prevents the creature form making a meal of Gron'rindul either, and the creature seethes in anger and frustration as it continues focusing it's efforts, determinedly, upon Gron'rindul. The Illithid again tries to force the group to rise into the air, but Qayan counters with his own mystical force, continuing to keep the whole of them grounded.
Noticing the fact that the others are on the ground, Zanas sees a chance to help a bit. She goes the long way around to the others, ending up about eastish. While moving, she draws the longsword, and then attacks the Illithid...but the blow slides off of the armor beneith.
Gron'rindul again attempts to free himself from the tentacles, but still cannot manage to tear them free.
As the tangle of bodies comes crashing to the floor, Khasar grins, raises Thuder's Edge above his head, and wades into the fray. "Your doom is upon you fiend!" he shouts as his sword drops again and again, but each time turning the blade slightly aside to avoid slicing into either Gron'rindul or Qayan. Unable to pick the Mind Flayer out of the swirling mess, Khasar shouts in fury and frustration.
Oblivious to the danger of Khasar’s impending swordstrokes, Qayan rips, spits, scratches, and tears, in his continual effort to counter the illithid’s attempts to kill Gron. In addition, through the use of his magical flight, he will strive to maintain the melee’s position on the floor – where assistance from comrades can be had. Finally, he gets a solid grasp on two of the tentacles, wrenching them out of the side of Gron'rindul's head. Qayan turns, punches the abomination in the face, and then yanks the last two tentacles free.
Just as he does so, a voice echos inside Gron'rindul's head. family:georgia;"So, I am defeated then...but it matters not. The Creative believes he found what he sought here, and has already returned through the portal." The creature begins to darken in color, turning black...and fading from your presence. family:georgia;"When the secrets are fully uncovered, the Rift will be ours!".
With that, Qayan falls hard against Gron'rindul, right through where the Illithid once lay. Zanas, alone, looks knowingly upon the sight, for she has seen before when someone journeys into the Shadow.
Meanwhile, near the ceiling of the room, a groan of pain escapes Valarion's lips as he slowly comes 'round.
End of Combat
"Arghh..." Valarion opens his eyes and adjusts his visions before finally looking up. "It's... done? He escaped?" Inquires Valarion as he finds no trace of the corpse of the abberation.
"Damn it!" Khasar spits as his prey vanishes before his eyes. Standing in disgust for a moment he quickly comes around when he hears Valarion's moan.
"Quickly, someone help me release Valarion." He pauses to scan the rest of the party, "Zanas, would you mind if I gave you a boost so that you could reach Valarion's bindings?"
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