RUBALBoarbusted was unable to see it at first. He was looking down, between great pillars of muddied stone, where he knew that the tarantula's lair must be. Two of his fellows were already down there, pikes in hand. There was something...
off, though. He'd heard tales of Rubal. They said that its name was from the hollow sacs of skin that were left of its victims, and that its mere presence filled the mind with negative thoughts. He didn't think that it would happen from this far away, though.
Slowly, ever so slowly, the great pillars of rock undulated once and then stood still once more.
The two serpent men, far below, moved nervously. And then one of them saw it.
The gentle movement of a massive fang was the first thing that gave it away. A few digestive acids were flicked off of the tip, scarring the land where it touched. Rubal stood, feeling the air with the two arm-like limbs on the front of its body, and then made up its mind.
One lizard man had dropped his weapon, gawking up at the beast above. The other had enough sense to flee for his life. Neither was going to live.
A sudden movement, and an impossibly large fang touched the ground. On the tip, a writhing serpent man had been speared. Boarbusted nearly threw up as he saw the slow inflation as the acids entered the body, and the corpse was starting to drip from the eyes before it suddenly and rapidly deflated as Rubal drained it dry. It flicked its fang, and the pile of half-digested tissues fell to the ground. It felt the air again, and massive footsteps wracked the landscape as it homed in on its catch. It moved effortlessly despite its great size, like a thundercloud dragging eight great pillars alongside it. It stopped, and once more, it speared the serpent man in a single movement. The second one died in agony, as had the first. The skin deflated once more, and Rubal flicked the leftovers into the air where they tumbled down the slope of one of the many great pillars that dotted the landscape.
Boarbusted gulped.
And charged.