7. MARY’S LAMB-AGGOTH
The lamb-aggoth rose upwards, dwarfing the heroes. A dozen insectoid arms erupted from its neck, each ending in grasping hooks. The buzzing of a thousand flies filled the air. Any sane person would have been terrified – Rotcel ‘Loc was shaking in fear, and even Dren felt a growing sense of disquiet that he might arrive at the big library in the sky far too early. Nanoc did not feel scared – there was no room in his little gnome heart for more than one emotion.
“You scared Mary!” he shouted at the beast. “And you made her grandfather miserable! You’ve been a baaaa-d sheep, haven’t you?”
“Don’t get it angry!” Rotcel ‘Loc pleaded. “We just need to take the crown and run! Don’t get it angry!”
It was too late – the mere mention of Mary drove the lamb-aggoth into a spasm, its body thrashing this way and that. Nanoc used the distraction to charge the beast, leaping up its body until he reached its head.
“It’s time for… a lamb chop!” Nanoc shouted, using his incredible strength ability to smash his club into the lamb-aggoth’s head.
He had expected a mighty blow capable of felling his enemy, but the club bounced off one of the bony plates that covered the lamb-aggoth’s body.
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Attack failed!
Bludgeon attacks are very ineffective! Try something else!
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Nanoc’s attack hadn’t hurt the beast at all, although it was entirely possible that his terrible pun might have. The lamb-aggoth slashed at Nanoc with one of its many legs, catching the gnome and flinging him headfirst against the barn wall. He bounced off and landed on his shoulder with a crunch. Nanoc stared at his club, amazed it had failed him. He dropped it to the ground and rolled away as a dozen of the lamb-aggoth’s impossibly long arms reached for him. They chased him around the barn, swiping and grasping, but the little gnome was a tricky target.
“A little help would be nice,” he shouted as he ran past his friends, who were still cowering behind a bale of hay. “Do something, Rotcel ‘Loc!”
“But it doesn’t even have pockets to pick!” the lizardling replied. “Oh… you mean like fighting? Then… let’s try this!”
The lizardling drew a blowgun from a pouch and shot a set of darts at the lamb-aggoth with a series of piff putt poffs. Two of the darts bounced off the beast’s armored skin, but a third hit one of the many eyes.
“OUCH!” the beast protested. “What kind… of a hero… uses… DARTS!”
“Poisoned darts,” Rotcel ‘Loc shouted back. “Can you feel it working, you monstrosity?”
“I… cannot be… POISONED! You are… PATHETIC! At least… the gnome… IS FUNNY!”
The lamb-aggoth laughed so hard that the ground shook, then turned back to chasing Nanoc. Rotcel ‘Loc’s shoulders slumped in defeat. Then a thought occurred to her: if poison had not worked, what might?
“Dren, if this beast serves Horror, then what would its weakness be?” Rotcel ‘Loc whispered.
“Do you know, Horror’s twin is Romance, fourteenth born of the third generation, goddess of yearning and chocolate. I bet this beast is allergic to chocolate.”
“Great!” Rotcel ‘Loc said eagerly. “Do you have any?”
“No. Do you?”
“No!”
“Ah. Do you know, that’s not very helpful then?”
“It was your idea!”
One of the beast’s long arms caught Nanoc around the ankle, tripping him up. Rotcel ‘Loc leaped onto the hay bale she had been hiding behind and threw one of her many knives at the arm, severing it and freeing Nanoc. The lamb-aggoth switched its attention to the lizardling, charging at her.
“Oh no!” the lizardling shouted as the lamb-aggoth’s arms switched their attention to her, wrapping themselves around her body.
“Scissalc Magic missiles!” Dren shouted, pointing his finger like it was a gun. A dozen glowing orbs shot out, each one homing in on a tentacle and frying it.
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The lamb-aggoth roared in pain.
“You… will… regret… THAT!” it screamed, slamming its huge body forward.
Dren and Rotcel ‘Loc dodged just in time as the whole barn jumped from the impact. The lamb-aggoth chased the lizardling and elf into a corner of the barn. They were doomed… except like all creatures of Horror, the lamb-aggoth didn’t want to kill its prey too soon. It liked to make them suffer, to mine the full range of despair from their bodies, like a six-ton cat playing with its prey.
“Got any more of those magic arrows?” Rotcel ‘Loc asked hopefully.
“I… you know, I don’t.”
“Pity. Nanoc!”
The little barbarian was on the far side of the barn, where he had found a pitchfork to replace his club. His fire elemental jumped the shaft and slid down to the prongs where it clung tightly.
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New weapon: Firey pitchfork!
The Firey Pitchfork incorporates is perfect for the rural mob leader as they storm the castle and confront the evil monster within!
Strong against: Horror, wood, grass, vampires
Weak against: Water, armor, scarecrows
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“Nice.”
Nanoc threw his club over his shoulder and turned to his enemy.
“Hey, you baaa-stard!” Nanoc said, taunting his opponent. “Stop picking on my friends and come fight me!”
It worked; the lamb-aggoth turned away just as Nanoc attacked, stabbing with his pitchfork. The fork found a break in the beast’s armor, cutting into flesh. There was a sizzle as purple blood met flames, and the lamb-aggoth howled in pain. Nanoc stabbed again through chitinous plates and red-stained wool to cut right into the vulnerable flesh below, searing the sides.
The lamb-aggoth spun with a grace that should have been impossible for something so large, hitting Nanoc with its tail and sending him through the air right toward his friends. Dren caught him awkwardly, setting the gnome down. The three of them faced the beast.
“I will… CONSUME YOU!” the lamb-aggoth roared again, waving its tentacles in the air. “Come here, and let me EAT YOU!”
Nanoc considered his options. The beast was very, very large. He’d have to stab it a million times to kill it, and who had time for that? It was time to try something a little more… creative.
“I have a plan,” the gnome barbarian said to his friends.
“I don’t like it!” Rotcel ‘Loc snapped.
“You don’t even know what it is!” Dren protested.
“So? I know it will be terrible,” the lizardling said, desperately pushing up against the wall.
Nanoc nodded. “It is terrible,” he agreed. “Terribly brilliant! Dren, can you shoot me at the beast with your magical telekinesis or something?”
“Do you know, it’s possible. I read a spell about this once… I’ll need a minute to find the right notebook.”
“Good. While you do that, the lizardling and I will distract it, then bam! and we’ll take this beast down. Right?”
“Wrong!” Rotcel ‘Loc said. “I—”
The lamb-aggoth charged forward, scattering the trio as it slammed into the barn wall. Nanoc ducked and rolled, then jumped back to his feet just in time to see Rotcel ‘Loc being lifted toward the beast’s mouth. He stuck his pitchfork into a bale of hay and turned to Dren.
“Ready, Dren?” Nanoc asked.
“Ah… well, there are two spells I could use and…”
“Just use the first one!” Rotcel ‘Loc said as she dangled above the lamb-aggoth’s giant mouth. “Dren, hurry up!”
“Right, right…,” Dren said agreeably. “It’s just that this might be a good time to test which spell— oh, it's not? Okay. Ylla-dab’s Friendly fire!”
There was a boom as Nanoc was flung through the air like the world’s least aerodynamic missile, the fire on the end of his pitchfork burning white-hot and eager. He landed on the lamb-aggoth’s mouth, balancing precariously on a tooth.
“I hope you like hot food!” Nanoc shouted, dropping the bale of hay down the beast's open mouth. The fire elemental jumped after the hay, burning it up even as it fell. The burning bale hit the lamb-aggoth’s stomach with a disturbing combination of pop and hiss. Nanoc grabbed Rotcel ‘Loc and they dropped to the ground as the great beast thrashed and spasmed from the pain within it.
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Critical hit!
Everything’s on fire!
Double damage! The beast is weak to fire!
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The lamb-aggoth choked, its many eyes bulging as it tried to spit out the unwelcome meal, but the elemental was having too much fun to stop. The great beast burped so loudly that the barn roof was lifted off the walls for a second.
The lamb-aggoth burped and growled in pain.
“Let me see, let me see,” Dren said. “Fire burns well… so let’s try Retsilb’s fireball!”
The scholar sent a stream of fireballs at the lamb-aggoth, burning its skin and revealing pink flesh beneath. The lamb-aggoth fell forward, rolling in the dirt to try to put the flames out.
“What now?” Rotcel asked nervously.
“And now this!” Nanoc said, charging at the lamb-aggoth and ramming the pitchfork into the beast’s huge head.
The lamb-aggoth grunted in surprise at the blow, its many legs twitching until at last they fell still. The beast gave a last ragged breath as its eyes closed. The fire elemental burst out of its nose and danced over to Nanoc. He lowered his pitchfork to the ground to let it jump back on.
Mary’s lamb was dead.
Rotcel ‘Loc, always the professional hero, walked to the back of the barn and immediately started ransacking it for loot. Dren and Nanoc stood by their fallen foe.
“Do you know, I had expected more from this thing,” Dren said, frowning.
“Me, too,” Nanoc said, prodding the giant corpse with his foot. “I was just getting warmed up. Hey, where did that crown get to…”
Rotcel ‘Loc turned around from her search and gasped when she saw how closer Nanoc was to the corpse.
“Get back!” Rotcel ‘Loc warned. “Nanoc, get back!”
“Why? What’s it going to—"
He had forgotten: Horror was the god of jump scares. The lamb-aggoth’s body split like an over ripe fruit, spilling long purple tentacles across the barn as a huge, soft body unfolded. The beast’s new form was amoebic, shapeless and gooey, eyes and mouths forming and disappearing into its bulk, tentacles sprouting from every side of the beast, flailing in the air.
“Now… I take… my final… FORM!” the lamb-aggoth roared in a deep voice that shook the barn. “Be… warned… mortals… your death has… COME!”