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Heirs of the ponderousness. Episode two Brath of the Tappan's Part two. Absolutely trying to hold the piece of which she was being dragged across the cave floor by digging her hands into the rocky, uneven surface.
But the Titans were pulling ahead with such ferocity that the resulting friction tore strips off her sleeves and sheared off the skin on her palm.
She was glad she didn't bring her Ballan for this mission. It would have broken in half by now that she's still had her short sword. But her locomotion along the floor was so jarring she feared she would lose the weapon if she unsheathed it. Surprisingly, the Tamils were not dark. Fires burned and still brassieres along the walls and the flames dancing in them highlighted his plight. As she let out an anguished cry, she shouted, even though she was certain he was too far away from her.
As luck would have it, her left hand encountered a rock and she grabbed onto it with all her strength. The talent hands pulling at her strained as she brought the journey to a jarring halt. She then pulled one leg out from the tangle of cold hands and kicked forcefully. It sent some of her captors sprawling onto the K4. She wrenched the other leg free and tucked and rolled backwards. Disgruntled yelps through the air as she stood up waving a sword.
Come on, you, Richard Pest's, she said, levelling her saw that the gangs of Chatham's encircling her.
They were as tall as a 10 year old human child. Their skin was a challenge of yellow and green with a slightly scaly texture to it.
They had sharp use that pointed backwards and their face was set in a permanent near. The same attitude was reflected in their mounts, which featured a set of needle, sharp teeth, mousy brown hair, covered the top of their heads and their pubic regions in thin strips like Green Cat that shown in the light of the flames, cast cruel glances and filthy.
They brandished their claws and mouthed obscene chittering sounds as they circled for the. Some of the more crude storage weapons comensoli in their clawed hands. The world and spun and flourished here, soared as you leaned back into a combat posture to address the challenges of the 30 or so creatures baying for her blood. This should be fun, she said.
The Titans leapt at her from all angles, weapons raised hell bent on carving rooms into his flesh.
She swept her sword in a 360 degree arc, filling the first wave of enemies, rushing her.
A blade carved their soft flesh, dismembering and killing many shrieking foes, jet black blood streaked the walls and pulled on the floor where her former captors fell. Another group glanced at her and suffered the same fate.
But two of the determined critters latched onto her leg and her back and stabbed into her flesh with sharp rocks fashioned into rough hewn blades while Druzes outerwear stopped the weapons from piercing flesh.
They still hurt the whack to the head of the Tufan, but the flat portion of her blade knocking it out.
She then chopped off the arms of the assailant on her leg, only to receive a vicious bite, she screamed in pain before kicking it off and squishing its head under her foot. She lashed out with her weapon repeatedly to the hold was thinned and the last few creatures hurried off into the distance shrieking.
She bent over and coughed and spat. Then she took in some deep breaths. She gave chase to the retreating critters and jogged for some distance, only to realize that they've got distracting her. Another group had sneaked in behind her. A heavy net fell on her and trapped her under its knotted weight. Dutra knew he only had a brief window before this Huffins transported him so deep into the cave system that an escape would be impossible even if he conquered his enemies, he would be left wandering the labyrinthine world for months and finally die of thirst and hunger.
He needed to act here and now. The warrior monk stopped struggling. The finger is on his left hand from the Humza Mukhtaran. He let himself be dragged freely for some distance by the vile goblin's. As he focused on awakening his money the home and chanted as he drew in the frantic energy coursing through his body and directed it towards the blazing heart of the activated chakra. But Idra grew heavy as a mountain and the mob of taverns were yanked to an instant halt, that job, their bones.
His body was an immovable mass, the vine creatures cheated and cried in confusion and attempted to move their quarry many times before finally giving up. They gazed at each other with confused watery eyes and barked, yelped while pointing to different directions.
Some argued amongst themselves about the best course of action to remedy the situation, and fisticuffs broke out when agreements couldn't be reached or redress could not sustain the magic facilitated by his partner anymore.
There was a time limit to how long it could be employed to alter the rules of physics.
He took advantage of the confusion and the arguments amongst the chaplains to enact his escape plan. In one graceful motion, he leapt up into the air and let the last of the pounding magic surge into his staff.
He then smashed the staff into the midst of his captors with enormous force. The earth trembled as an invisible blast of magical power radiated out from the ground where the weapon contracted with the earth. The creatures were thrown in many directions. Some squashed to pulp as they hit the walls at enormous speeds. Others broke every bone in their body and slumped to the floor like puppets parted from their strings. The few who survived the magical attack lost their nerve and scrambled over rocks or stuck into crevices or ran deeper into the cave system.
Bruguera waited for the last of them to vanish from his sight before grabbing a torch from one of the brassieres and heading back to the location where he had parted ways with his dear sister.
He was exhausted. This always happened when he used his Chapela magic. It would be a while before he could recharge his energy, his load, his expected breathing and calmed his mind. He would need to access the powers again to obtain a psychic trace of Brodies necklace. It was the only way to find her in this underground labyrinth.
Heirs of the Punitiveness is a wine studio production written and narrated by Nikesh Moodily, produced by Sonia Karana and B.J. got them. Sound design and editing by Shree Oberoi are designed by Russian comrade.