A Crimson Shore, 30.2 Wrath, Not Rad

The skinny figure before them watched the slaves run for their lives. Something felt wrong about that look Zy’an thought. He couldn’t place the emotion perfectly and yet it was utterly familiar. Above them, where the sky had just fallen and the great gem that had held them entranced had cracked, climbed all manner of foul things, falling along the walls, down to where they now stood. Their many eyes, like insect eyes or lizard eyes, fixed upon the prey that was now loose.

Rad smiled and held his hands out. “Well, they are free!” His grin hung on his face, and it suddenly struck Frank that he had yet to see him smile. Ever. “Thrak, you won’t have to worry about joining with the host now. You can make a run for it like the others are. You won’t get very far though. They’ll catch you you see. And drag you screaming down to Ket.”

Zy’an pivoted slowly towards Rad. He was in a total body control, waiting for one of the many creatures seeking the escapees to attack them. Surely, it wouldn’t be long. They were standing right in the middle of the place.  Yet, none were. The whole place was awash with the most despicable of enemies and yet here he was, worried about this skinny lad. “No one will be dragging us anywhere, boy. We’ve freed the Celns, now it’s time to follow them out to the griffons. It’s time to go.”

“I don’t think you’re ready for that yet, monk. The Host knows you’re here you see. Your serum can not protect you any longer.”

Frank slammed a creature with twisting mandibles to the ground and smashed it’s head in with a mace. Green acidic goo oozed from the skull. “No, I think not. We took the serum. The Host has no idea. You can stay here if you like,” Frank’s eyes flashed red, “But for me, this place needs to work on their customer service. Two stars.”

___________________________________________________________________________

It all happened in the blink of an eye.  The joy of freeing the slaves, finding Thrak, was cut short as the denizens and slavemasters of this place sprang from their crevices on spider legs.  Nightmarish, haunting and unreal.  Iricah stood there, watching it all. Time slowed.  She was ready to decide what to do, and then before she could, she felt a twinge in her back.  A frozen, searing pain crept from a single spot in her back, and rose up towards her neck.  She had just the time to turn slightly and watch the figure she knew as Rad transform into a much larger, gigantic form.  A feminine form, gloating, laughing diabolically. Like a tree springing instantly from it’s seed, it rose higher and higher, until it towered over her and the others.

“The Host knows you are here, Heroes!” The giant demon thundered. Iricah watched a huge fist rise above her. She’d be crushed, instantly. And because she knew this was it she opened up her magical bag, and spoke a command word, just as she was pounded into oblivion.

Instantly, Zy’an, Thrak and Frank disappeared.

Wrath stood over Iricah, who was breathing her very last breaths.

“LOOKS LIKE YOU’VE BEEN BETRAYED BY YOUR FRIENDS, IRICAH!!”

 

 

 

 

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