... what now?
Assist Mortecia, Akashir willing.
Remain inside the warehouse until further notice.
Mortecia dozes off slumped against the wall.
There isn't much to assist Mortecia with, so Erescal spends this time meditating in a trance on his Lord, Akashir.
Make him drop me with sound wave, then kill him and sterilize my would with alcohol.
Siri wriggles desperately in her mystical fetters, managing to free an arm for spellcasting. Stretching out her palm to the elderly store owner, she
overcasts Soundwave. The old man takes notice of an approaching soundwave and barely manages to cover one of his ears. His torso ends up taking the brunt of the wave and he feels his heart beat irregularly in response to the intense vibrations.
"S-Shit! My... heart.." Clutching his chest, the store owner collapses to the floor and breaks a few teeth on impact.
The golden rings dissipate in the same arcane glow that they appeared in. Siri is free of her bindings- moreover, the liquor store owner has been incapacitated.
Siri knows that she must make sure of his pacification, so she does it like a true Dunewalker- walking around the counter and viciously stomping the bony old man's skull into a fleshy pulp. Finally, she takes a decently priced bottle of gin off a shelf and pours it over her hip wound. The liquor
really burns, so she figures it must have worked.
Stick my Sword into its back where its Spine probably meets its arms, Drag it down its body.
With the homonculus now in a relatively helpless position, John thrusts his chainblade at a higher point of the beast's spinal column.
Something unexpected happens, though- John leaves a small opening for the beast to retaliate. The homonculus pounds a quick right hook into the ground, rolling itself over with the massive wave of force. John wobbles a bit in response to the shockwave before the beast expels a glob of acidic spit from its damaged face. John, being stunned as he is, doesn't have even the slightest chance of dodging it, so the vitriolic blob splats right on his face and starts dissolving his rugged visage.
John has sustained major injuries.(( Sorry for late reply, my main computer had motherboard issues. ))
If it looks like John has the homonculus handled, Valith quickly examines the bodies of the dead or dying alchemists and takes their guns, in addition to any important-looking documents and the like they may be carrying. There won't be time to fully get the bodies out before the fire consumes the building, most likely; too bad. Sierris won't be pleased if Valith doesn't make something good out of this mess. So if there's time, he makes a point to cut out the heretical eyes of the poor bastards, pocketing them with one of his cloths.
If the homonculus is still a threat, then Valith instead reiterates his prayer to Sierris for mutating his hands into deadly claws, then approaches the abomination with a purpose. Then he proceeds to carve out its eyes and rip them from its skull. That is, if it has eyes. If not, ears will do fine. I just want some part of its face as a keeper, damn it. Let it be known that no hermetical construct is safe from inclusion in Sierris' beautiful tapestries.
Assuming I don't get the claws, then I take the gloves off one of the dead or dying alchemists (they have to have some kind of protective gear when working with acids THIS deadly, right??) and put them on, drawing my knife at the same time. Then do the same thing as above.
Rip and tear. Until it is done.
Valith knows that with John taking the wounds he is, finishing the fight will likely be his job. Uttering a desperate prayer to Sierris for a new Gift of Flesh, he hears a disembodied and matronly voice respond. "
As you wish, childe." A sudden and rather pleasant tingling sensation appears in his hands as he notices each of his fingers twisting into an individual
talon.
After silently thanking the Mother of All, Valith launches himself forward and onto the collapsed beast. The moment his knees land on it's chest he swipes several times for the beast's eyes, viciously dicing up its face and pulling its eyes out of socket. Quickly severing the optic nerves with his free claw, he then scoops them up in the other before rolling off and screaming in sadistic ecstasy. The beast screams likewise, but not the satisfied sort of scream- the horrified kind that having your eyes plucked out by a psychotic cultist of a raptor-man elicits.
Although it is clearly well alive, being completely drained of its ichor has clearly knocked the homonculus into a mostly inert state.
Sierris is considerably proud.