Fixated on the adversary with unblinking obduracy, it was the smell that first caught their attention. A thick cloud of ammonia and urea that stung so heavily in eyes and throat, it would have nearly killed Oceanus, for closing his eyes for even a moment, or his body being shaken by a fit of coughing may have been enough to end this bout. In a situation so grimm, it took unwavering optimism that only Oceanus could produce however, when Morganas labor bore fruit.
With the sound of a tearing membrane of organic nature, the bloody writings had given way for an entry from a place that was better left unexplored. From the stinking, foggy darkness of this nightmare, a gooey tentacle of grey color slithered its way into our world, corrupting it with its presence. Bulbous, bubbling suction cups adorned with tiny, hook-like protrusions of chitin covered it in irregular, nonsensical intervals along most of its length, whereas the final stretch, about half a meter in length split into uncountable grasping and prodding feelers, that moved chaoticaly, but with clear purpose. This abominable flesh, muscles and membranes, cartilage and sinew obeyed Morganas command, and seized up the templar. Or perhaps it had just taken offense in this meat-less being, so much unlike itself. Immobilized as such, Oceanus finaly caught a moment of respite, and a bit of laughter nearly escaped him at the grotesque display.
"Quick.....this...huff...is harder than it looks..."
Blood was dripping from Morganas tearducts.