Shaking, Anagra held out his arm, as the Rogue pulled out a red vial. His pain was beyond comprehension, and his skeletal minions were in desperate need of his aid. As he revealed his arm, Anagra looked at it, and was almost astonished.
The entire arm was burnt to the bone, and the harlequin burns gave it a rather odd aura. He tried to move his fingers, but failed. The shaman's fireball seemed to burn away most of the muscle, and what was left of the skin was burned ash laying on the bone.
"Help me...." murmured the Necromancer, his wide eyes staring at his arm. The wound looked bad, but Celia had been surprised by the healing powers of Akara's potions before. She had seen many amazing things accomplished by the magic of the sisterhood, many good, many horrific.
"It will sting a bit, but the pain will soon be gone," she said, trying to make eye contact with the Necromancer, get his mind off his arm and onto something else. "You have to hold still, though, or it could be wasted."
With that, she opened the vial and began to slowly pour it on the damaged skin. She had felt it heal burns before, though less severe, and knew that the sensation was less than comfortable. It would fade shortly, but she did not doubt that he was in agony. As the red liquid came in contact with his burned flesh, it began to hiss and bubble. She could tell he was getting antsy, but already his flesh was starting to regenerate itself.
"Just remember to hold still. Here," she said, pouring all but a little of the potion on his wound, "why don't you drink the rest of this? Do some of the work from the inside."
The potion hissed and for a moment, it felt like it was causing another burn, but the flesh on his arm seemed to start rebuilding. Strings of muscles were put back together, and his skin was returning back to normal. It was painful, but nothing as bad as before.
"Why don't you drink the rest of this? Do some of the work from the inside." she said.
He took the vial from her, and drank what was left. The potion tasted like nothing, but a sheer gelatin texture to the tongue, even though the liquid seemed lighter than air. At once, all the cuts on his body were healed, and his arm was almost back to being battle ready. He glanced at the Rogue, and then stood up.
A simple thanks was not in his vocabulary. Yet she might have saved his life. The Den was burning, and the monsters were falling like rocks. He reached in his cloak, and threw her a sash of potions, yet they not healing or energy potions. They contained battle potions: poison potions, exploding potions, fire potions, ice potions, and many more.
"This is my collection of battle potions," he said. "They are hard to make, so use them wisely."
Anagra got up, picked up his dagger, and tore off the quilted armor off the nearest fallen. He could not afford to have another close encounter to injury like that again.
The group of heroes vanquished all of their enemies as they continued their path to the depths of this abysmal cave. Not a single demon was spared their life. Gruesome acts were needed to equal the gruesome acts of these demons. Fighting back and forth, the group took their victories and healed their losses.
Venturing to what appeared to be the end of the cave, a group of zombies stood ready to attack the group. These zombies, however, looked stronger than any they had encountered thus far.
"Ready yourselves" Tre shouted out to the others hoping none would charge in thinking they would drop as easily as the others. "That one in center seems to be the dominant one in the group. We should try to pick off the others before we assault that one."
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The main zombie had something different to it. For one, the flesh of it was older, rotten, and defiled. Yet its mouth had fangs instead of broken teeth, and it had an aura of fire to it. Its skin had a very strong defensive hide to it, and the fire around the cave did not seem to affect it, along with its zombie protectors.
Anagra's skeletons did not need an order to act. They recognized the great power of the central evil of the Den, and they went for the protecting demons. The Central Demon tried to help it, but the skeletal minions were too quick. Before their rotting brains knew what was happening, their defensive resistance was melting off, and bone swords were swung at their necks.
"What do you see of that zombie in the center of the area?"
Anagra didn't answer. He didn't want to. If this necromancer could not sense the demonic force of this zombie, then he could not surely be a well qualified necromancer.
The zombie had fangs on it, and it moved faster. His skeletal minions tried to attack it, but its hit was dangerous. It seemed to keep its mind as well, as the zombie did not simply move aimlessly and attack what's near it.
"Kill it... now..."
The Den was on fire, and was quickly falling apart. They needed to kill what was in here, and fast.
The group charged at the demon, and at once, they dug their weapons in his flesh. At once, its body roared in rage, and its fangs tried to bit whatever was near it. Yet it was too much for it. The rotten flesh that was promised redemption by Andariel if it took out the Rogue Encampment started to burn, and soon, only ash remained.
The dark aura of the cave was lifted, and light shined through the cracks. And the demonic soul, in a violent yell, disappeared.
Yet the Den was on fire. And the entrance was blocked by a roar of flame.
"We need a way out!"
They were stuck, and they fire was getting bigger and bigger, slowly closing on the group's position.
Celia's eyes darted to and fro, looking for an exit from the cleansed Den. All routes seemed blocked by fire and debris. Corpses turned to stone in the light of day and fallen rocks blocked the way. She struggled hard to remember her youth, a dark time of which she did not like to think. She recalled leaving the encampment with her friends, the girls giggling as they followed loosely behind their guide... She furrowed her brow, trying hard not to think about Raven or the other girls and focus on her predicament. She remembered coming to the caves and staying overnight. It had seemed so safe and benign back then. Now it harboured nothing but bad memories and a rotting death.
I've heard that there were special magical scrolls that could create a portal to somewhere else, i wonder if perhaps one of the creatures had one... hmmmm "search the creatures for a scroll, I've heard of magical scrolls that create portals to other places, we could use one to get out of here!"
Algranon crossed his fingers and hoped that they would find one, and that they even existed!
Keeping his calm, yet growing frustrated with the unbearable heat drawing closer to the group, Tilika started searching some of the bodies for whatever supplies he could carry with him.
From a walking dead's decaying corpse he removed a somewhat torn leather tunic. Putting it on, it fit him remarkably well. He continued to search through the still corpses on the ground..
Finally, he found what he was looking for. Anagra found the scroll that contained the arcane magic of teleportation to the nearest settlement. It was torn, ripped, but readable. Perhaps found by a fallen off of a dead body and it collected it as loot. No matter why it was there, Anagra picked it up, and read from it.
He threw is down on the ground, and it automatically vanished from sight. For the moment, it seemed like nothing had happened, and that they were to be doomed in this forsaken cave. But then, the navy blue gateway opened up, forming a swirl in the air.
The cold air of the Rogue Encampment was an instant relief of the heat of the Den. As Anagra looked behind him, he caught a glimpse of the Den, and saw it slowly fall apart behind him. The rest of the group were behind him, energized, while Anagra was quiet. He was one step closer to his goal, and now he hoped he earned the Rogue's trust so they could send him to Tristram.