>>5673085The weight and momentum of the rock-creature bashes brutally into the Steeltalons who first move to meet it, shith shoudlers forward and ehads bowed.
>12They are not enough.
>9Two steely-thewed males, brave or desperate, break beneath the stone, belting out death-knells before the sound of tumbling stone drowns them out.
“No!” cries your so-called Successor, and makes to run…
>7…But as the others were too weak, he is too slow. The impact his him hard, not slowed in the slightest by the destruction of two Reptilian lives. It crashes into him as well, and all his spellcraft and status cannot save him. He is hurled forward by the impact, his fancy magical khopesh-balde falling from his hands. He falls face-first in the stone-turned-to-mud, and even as he struggles to crawl away, the stony shape of your monstrous adversary (and unwitting ally-of-convenience) rolls over him as well, like time itself catching up with the Old Ways.
Had you human lips, you would have smirked. As it is, you allow yourself a quiet rattle of laughter.
Behind you, the females and the kobold scream. The deed is done, though—the threat to your rule ended. The Chaplain of Bloodrise is dead—long live the KING! With a rebellious roar, you finally stride forward, arms spread wide to catch the impact and divert it—to halt it or turn it away!
>17…
>17…Oh Gods. It’s not enough! The strange earth-entity wasn’t slowed down in the slightest, even by its last conquest, and it isn’t slowed even by you. Your hands are rubbed raw by the spinning of its rough surface in your grasp, as you desperately move your feet to maintain your stance and avoid being instantly bowled over and crushed flat. You strain with every muscle in your body to protect those behind you—to safeguard your subjects, lovers, friends. You cry out in prayer, KNOWING you have it in you to stop such a thing. You bested the Paladin Prince! Destroyed the Devourer! Slew and subjugated the Shoggoth!
>15…But you are not invincible. You feel your feet sink into the muck behind you. You lose your footing, your balance. You are pressed beneath a thousand pounds, or more, of raw power from the dee-places of this world, buried in a tomb of mud. You feel your bones break along familiar fault-lines. The fall from the sky broke you last time, but now you break from below. Where water swallowed you up, now it is earth.
…Or perhaps you fell to hubris.
