Once more you draw upon your magic, this time using it to strengthen yourself, to make your claws as hard as steel and your body tremble with unholy vigor. Sparks leap from the spirit’s eyes. “Begone, foulness.” It growls at you again, and then with a roar loud enough to crack the stones, you leap at each other.
Your horns bite into its chest, the hide tearing, but slowly. Meanwhile its claws gouge at your sides and rip open several vicious gashes. But it matters not. You will not yield, and you dig your horns in deeper, angling for where its heart would be, while it slashes at you with its mighty paws and frantically tries to bring its head around to bite you.
It changes tactics, ripping itself off you, the flesh knitting itself back together. It leaps up into the air, and you jump after it, your claws ripping into its tail, but not catching much more. It tries to dive down on you and bring you to the ground…but that proves its undoing, as you slip out of the way and gash it from neck to tail while it flies past you, wriggling frantically in an attempt to regain control.
Its head speeds towards you, the teeth just barely scraping your hip, and then it crashes to the earth and lays still.
You revel in the triumph for a moment, as the beasts below watch, horror stricken, paralyzed, and you roar once more, before licking at your bloodied claws, imagining what glorious weapons and instruments of torture the spirit shall make…then you notice its body is dissolving. Desperately you swoop down, but you are too late.
Almost. Out of the pile of disappearing goo, you manage to scoop out some claws, a scrap of hide, a broken tooth…and its heart, still pulsing rhythmically in the palm of your hand.
There is power in it, and something else as well. The beasts turn to you, and as one they bow, growling your name as best their feline throats can. You can sense them now, like you can sense your followers…but it is more intimate. For a moment you feel a sudden urge to run with them as a member of their pride, but you assert your identity and the urge fades. And you know they must be feeling what you want…
Current form: A mighty man with the head of a bison and vicious, bloody claws. Currently a bit banged up.
Arms: 18.5 (Damage, evil)
Body: 17.5 (Damage, evil)
Mind: 18 (Damage, evil)
Magic: 19.5(Damage, evil)
Other: A bit sore, and holding a spirit's heart.
Samana
Arms: 4
Body: 3
Mind: 1.5
Damena
Arms: 1
Body: 1
Mind: 3
Magic: 4.5
49 followers
3 servants(Leplenas)
Scythes of Beleth
49 cultists
30 power (10 for totems, 5 for worship)
Led by Samana and Damena.
Author
Topic: The Exiled Demon (Read 37954 times)