Back to the Deep

In the space between heartbeats, Hethir's view changed from the monster's toothy maw to gleaming armor. Struggling to haul himself upright, he saw Trace standing in front of him, shield held up as though he would fend off the massive monster with it. Strangely, it seemed to be working. Golden sparks fizzled and shot away from the shield, and Hethir realized that the knight was using the shield as a focus; blocking with magic and not mere steel. The teeth of the beast continued to grind and gnash on the barrier to no avail. Though as Hethir watched, he could see Trace shaking with exertion. The effort of holding the beast back was clearly taking its toll. "Trace, do you think you could kill that thing if I got you close enough?" Hethir regained his feet shakily, but his gaze was steady again.
"Maybe? It isn't of this world, Lumis will want it destroyed."
"Good enough, get ready."


Trace didn't have time to ask what was going to happen. Hethir gripped the straps holding his breastplate in place and shot upwards into the air, hauling the knight up with him. The shield collapsed almost immediately, but the creature's weight unbalanced and its head smashed into the deck. It recovered quickly, but not quick enough. Hethir ignored the creature's heads and tentacles, instead carrying them both over the side of the ship, towards where the bulk of the bizarre creature still still rested in the water.
Michael and Garius charged the head which had lingered too long near the deck, distracting the monster. Mary was now suspended in a bubble of magical force that seemed to defy the many attempts the creature was making to break it. Hethir and Trace passed over the edge of the deck. Below them was a bulk of vilely squirming flesh and veins draped over the side of the vessel and down into the water. Trace shifted in his grip and Hethir's fingers strained to hold on. "Let go Hethir, the creature will die..."
Only too willing to comply, the knight dropped like a stone, sword point first. Hethir gained a bit more altitude to put himself out of easy reach of the beast, and felt power surge back into his mind. Glancing down, he froze in shock. The beast was frozen, unmoving. Golden light rippled through its skin, running out into heads and tentacles as though it were following the blood in its veins. Where the light touched, the creature began to wither. Within seconds, most of the tentacles either flopped uselessly on the deck, or had fallen overboard--drawn by their own weight. The sailors set about hacking tentacles free of rigging and sails with a will, throwing the pieces overboard as quickly as possible. The greater mass of the monster now appeared to burn, the light piercing its skin with angry golden radiance. Trace stood on the greatest part of the beast visible above the water, sword buried nearly to the hilt in its vile flesh. Both his hands still gripped the hilt, and power poured down his arms into it, the sigils on his hands shining like the sun.
Praise Lumis for his blessings. Hethir thought to himself, not entirely sarcastically for the first time in decades.