Piker stares down in horror as a violet fungus busily attaches itself to his body. He wriggles like a talented street performer impersonating a successful escape artist, and surprisingly evades capture. Once free he quickly dives and rolls toward Morcant who is in a far worse situation.
Drawing his rusty dagger from it's sheath, Piker slices repeatedly at one of the thick tentacles binding Morcant. He is soon joined by Ptolmek who also begins damaging the violet fungus threatening Morcant's life.
Lisabelle grimaces as she rips at the fungus planting itself on her body. Lockjaw emerges from the mist covered in shrieker blood. He spots a fungus taking hold of Lisabelle's tunic and pounces. As the badger rips the fungus apart, the stink of blood on his fetid breath covers Lisabelle. And she's never loved him more.
A quick glance around lets her know everyone could use more help in this situation. Hopefully the Albino Elk will provide. Calling another flame to her fingertips, she closes her eyes and begins praying. With eyes closed, as heat builds around her outstretched hand, Lisabelle hears the slowly building chorus of squeaks and grunts. A pack of dire rats emerge from a small crack behind the altar and begin to chew on the many tentacles still tying the party down.
Gurin felt his legs bind up. No worries a quick swing of the axe... oh seems they've got that too. Never one to panic, Gurin pummeled the violet fungus tentacle with the a thundering fist from his non-axe hand. "Let's introduce these little snots to Mr. Pain." The proboscis jumps, but redoubles it's efforts, aware it reached living prey. Gurin continues pummelling the plant as a dire rat approaches and begins gnawing it as well.
Morcant viewed a room filled with the auras of starving creatures. He kept a level head and projected a feeling of being completely stuffed and tired from digestion. Almost sending himself into a food coma, wanting nothing more than to sleep after having been stuffed, he was glad to see it seemed to be working. The plant fibre tasting his neck released first and began to lay slack on the floor.
The small success gave him the encouragement needed to broadcast his thoughts into the entire room. Although his eyes were closed, he could sense the auras shifting toward satiated lethargy. Not only were the violet fungus feeling satisfied, but the dire rats sense the tired and dormant prey. They begin feverishly devouring the waiting buffet.
As the commotion of the room begins to settle so too does the thick cloud of mist. Almost dissipated completely as the party finds itself free of the threat of violet fungus. The dire rats sent by the Albino Elk retreat far faster than they arrived. And, once more, they adventurers stand in the close quarters of the ancient chapel. Surrounded, at this time, by the dead corpses of a far different congregation than any of them ever convened.
What do you do?