“Who dared?” a deep croak reverberated through the rock.

“WHO DARED?! Who broke my pretties?! Who slew us?!”

Vellom shrieked shrill enough to burst Dimrat’s eardrums, her face twisted with rage, then from nowhere Dimrat could fathom, a ghastly hand swollen foul and fetid seized her in a flash, like rotten sludge melding with her thorny defences, her own viscous acid squeezed from her like ripe grapes.

It came from the rock itself. Like a wound that gushed. Swarms of faces that culminated into one gelatinous mound of filthy flesh, sinking what remained of the only wall into the ground under its immensity, where it took the shape of a grotesque face. Then, it smiled. Dimrat's heart thudded against his chest cavity.

[Primal Sludge Pit ‘Tarface’ (XIX)] (Dungeon Sweeper) lvl: ???

It gurgled a rotten chunky slop that spewed down the wall. The heat from its breath drew beads of sweat down Dimrat's face that twisted with horror; a stench so pungant he foamed at the eyes and fell to the ground heaving with nausea. 'Dungeon sweeper?!', he thought, 'an agent of the master?!'

Then it spoke.

'Finally'

The ruins rumbled, and the protruding spires collapsed. Vellom’s acid, the more potent of the two, melted through its grip severing several fingers, but it wasn’t enough. She crumpled to the ground, into her own soup, robbed of all her strength, and looked up at Dimrat more resembling a frail girl than a predator. She could barely maintain her form, yet her eyes conveyed more to him now than any words could. He was familiar with the expression, but never had it been pointed at him. ‘...traitor.’

“Look what I found.” boomed the oozing mass, with an accent and tone distinctly dissimilar to when it first spoke. “A little weed from the swamp.” It’s voice changed drastically again. Dimrat had retreated as far against the wall as he could across what little remained of the ground, wishing for nothing more than to be a fly on the wall, when another voice, deep and sinister, echoed from within itself to the forefront. Another face emerged from its side and dissolved into the other, then spoke.

“Now, this is a surprise. Two Fallen?”

“and the little witch at that! What are the odds?”

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Another voice cut in. “..mhmmm, perhaps the last two? The master will be pleased”

Then another voice, aloof and despondent, “..and one of them just killed us. Be cautious”

The face advanced, and Vellom’s brambles exploded with growth. She turned incorporeal, like a banshee, and split into many phantoms of herself that scrambled to all corners of the room. Poisonous plants and mushrooms erupted in an instant to create a deadly barrier between them, while the real Vellom struggled to crawl away on her back hidden behind her defensive screen, vulnerable, the embodiment of fear, where she began to chant in a language he didn’t recognise.

His eyes could not follow, he could only hear it - the frenzy of Vellom's vines - a blur of whips so fast they shredded the face into a spattering mist. Mushrooms detonated on contact, cratering the face and shattering brickwork, but the face absorbed it all like the surface of water. More and more sludge poured into the room from behind, bolstering its strength, grinning through the chaos at an engagement that favoured it the more time passed.

Dimrat could only watch as the acid and venom flooded the floor, while poisonous spores blotted out the sky above. This fight was beyond him. He understood now. No matter who won, he would be the second one killed. He was running out of floor, out of time, when Vellom’s defenses broke. The face oozed through her thorny fungalbed, then shaped itself into a savage blade that severed her down the middle at terrifying speeds. She shrieked and fell backwards, then, the ground began to shake…

Her eyes overflowed with power. She was done chanting. Then slowly raised her hand to the rumble of rotten caskets that burst from the ground about them - coffins fresh from the grave - where they rattled and roared with anger. The lids smashed open, and out stepped skeleton soldiers, caked in mud and root and crackling with Vellom's necrotic energy. Those with legs lunged straight into the fray. Those without, crawled, but were no less menacing. Yet their metal and bones were broken quicker than they emerged from the ground. In the onslaught, a rusted dagger ricocheted and skimmed across the floor towards Dimrat, and without a thought he grabbed it like a sword.

[Ondrúnian dagger (broken) found!]

He spun to face Vellom with a scowl, a chance to demonstrate his loyalty to the dungeon sweeper, but hesitated. She looked back at him with an expression unsuited for an enemy. This one looked to him for help. It disarmed him. It stayed his hand. Why was she so sure of his allegience? Why did it cause him to doubt at such a crucial moment?

Her brambles began to fall limp, and her eyes widened with fright. That was all the face needed to grab her vines and yank her in. Its mouth opened and in she flew with a satisfying crunch. Like a dragonfly into a frog’s gullet. It chewed her slowly, and savoured the pops and cracks, the struggle, the moment, and a part of Dimrat wished he went first so he didn’t have to witness what would happen to him next.

Exotic plant life and fungal infections sprouted from and spread like wildfire across the face, still unwilling to give up without a fight - and for a moment Tarface looked surprised - but it was all absorbed just as quickly. Vellom’s acid bulged Tarface's cheeks and out spilled a twitchy mangled mess, what remained of her face still contorted with dread. The acid wound glooped back together, and the Primal Sludge Pit grinned.

His dagger fell to the floor. His breath left him. What hope did he have? There was no escape. This was his end. Then he clutched his ears with an agonized expression and fell to his knees. Something in his head throbbed like a drum. something wanted to get out. It was a piercing din that cracked his sanity.

One long string of absurd and unfortunate events. Why had these two great ones converged on him? He had not realised it, but he was already inside its mouth.

The ruins echoed with the horrific sounds of his own demise.

[You perished]

[Trial over]