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Paladin's Downfall (Red x Causeway)

"I have no intention of surrendering to you, heretic!" Castiana said, brandishing her pollaxe, head high, spike gleaming in the light of her invoked halo. She knew not what dark gifts had been bestowed upon this blasphemer, but it would not matter!
 
Oh, pet... you really didn't listen at all, did you? Of course not. If she'd listened, she'd have stayed with mistress where it was warm and safe, having her cunt tongued right at that moment. So much to learn...

A sickly grin touched the man's face, eyes as dark as the void of space watching her every move. "You have no power here," came the dry voice. "Everyone here thinks they hold the true power... yet it is held in the grasp of so few alone." The unsightly bulges beneath the cloak began to writhe and twist, the cloaked figure seeming to almost stiffen with pain. "And you... you are not one of them." That writhing bulge loosed itself then, tearing right through the ragged black cloak. It struck her in her center mass, knocking her to her back on the cold stone below. In the dim light, she'd see just what it was that had hit her. Like the tentacle of some hideous sea creature, thick and wide, smooth and rubbery on one side while the other was covered in what must have been a thousand slimy little feelers and suckers. It was... a part of him.
 
"Do not think you can intimidate me with words about power, heretic!" The knight said, as the figure writhed. She braced herself, and when the tentacle burst forth and struck her, she fell back into a rolling flip, coming up standing. In order to better defend herself from the grotesque appendage, she drew forth her longsword, the two-edged blade better suited for dealing with the demonic mutation. She began to recite the Litany of Righteousness to empower her against the heretic.
 
It seemed that the huge, slimy tentacle was... an arm? Indeed, it seemed to be fused to the man's torso in place of any sort of proper human limb. This was a man who had long since given in to the gods of the dark, who had let them mutate him and drive him mad. He was but a servant to fouler things, though his power was still quite considerable. A mage he'd been once, trained at prestigious academies and sent to do good in the world at large. That quest had brought him here... and, in the end, he submitted, as they all did.

The Litany was poison to his ears, a snarl escaping him. "Do not spout your filth here!" A wave of raging, punishing force rolled off of him, buffeting her in an attempt to knock her back. His magical might was more than any steel could hope to match.
 
Steel alone would not suffice, this was true. As Castiana stumbled back, she put herself on the defensive, and begun reciting the Litany of Protection to shield her from dark magics. Then she went on the offensive, slashing at his limbs.
 
Another blast of the foul magics... but the woman knew her trade. The Litany shielded her well, the darkness simply swirling around her but never touching, unable to even come close. While she rushed him, the mage roared his anger, his ancient masters having put an utter hatred of the light in him. Her blade bit at flesh, drawing wounds in the great tendril that was his arm, his other hanging useless at his side; he had long since granted the hand of that arm in exchange for power. Black ooze bubbled where she sliced, but the limb was thick and sinewy; it would take much to sever it. While she kept him on the defensive, he lashed out with the huge tentacle again, seeking to take her legs out from underneath her with one great swipe.
 
It would most certainly require more finesse than such a sloppy blow as that. Without his magics, one would wonder how a Mage, even one so twisted, could hope to stand before a trained warrior such as Lady Castiana the Sword Sister. At least, not without help...

Her feet shuffled back, easily avoiding the blow, and she brought her sword down upon the appendage. The silver-steel blade had holy runes etched into it, and bit deep into the putrescent flesh, and boiling black blouse flowed.
 
The mage was unaccustomed to this form, it seemed. Were she some hapless maiden, perhaps, that would have been enough. Unfortunately, she was a woman of war, highly trained and, despite her previous rapes, a formidable foe. His blow was poorly struck, and he was punished for it. The stab was painful in and of itself... but the holy runes caused the blood to begin boiling, the flesh burning white-hot. A scream tore from him, and he pulled haphazardly away, making quite a bloody mess of his gifted flesh. "FOUL WITCH! AWAY WITH YOU!" There was no fighting her. He turned and fled, seeking the respite of the shadows... and, perhaps, some aid from his betters.
 
Castiana wiped the blood from his tentacle off of her blade, and returned it to her scabbard. She regarded the mage as little more than a nuisance, dabbling in powers beyond his control. Reaching down, she picked up her pollaxe, likewise equipped with holy runes and forged of silver-steel. Such weapons were lethal both to creatures of flesh and darkness. Soon the beasts here would feel its bite.
 
It was Iliana's voice she'd hear then, shadows seeming to coalesce at the paladin's side with little more than a pair of golden orbs to signify just who it really was. "You're just going to let him go? Oh, pet... you delight in confusing me, I think." The shadowy, wispy mass flitted forward, gazing down the cavernous tunnel. "You do realize he'll be back, right? And he'll be far from alone? You're asking for a fair bit of trouble, dear Castiana..." A sigh. "But fear not." Footsteps in the dark. "I'll be there to save you, once your slutty cunt has had its fill. I'd never abandon my pet for long..."
 
"I was hardly letting him go," Castiana said, as she pursued him. "I intend to catch him before he can get to help." She charges after him, her pollaxe spike held high to impale the first wicked beast to cross her path. "I do not intend to need your help in rescuing my 'slutty cunt.' It has had quite enough already!"
 
"Yes, but you should have killed him! I've heard nothing from you but how mighty you are since your orgasm, dear... though, I'll admit, your wound was impressive." However, one thing was certain: She was indeed faster. "Now put the poor bastard out of his misery," hissed Iliana, cheering her plaything on from the shadows. Though there was a short, derisive laugh to go along with it. "Oh, pet... the fact that you say such things definitely means you've not had nearly enough. But, go on. Do your thing."

The paladin would indeed catch up to the mage, his stiff gait a poor method of escape compared to the knight's swiftness. "TO ME! TO MEEEE! INTRUDER IN THE DEPTHS!" Those would be the last words he could manage before Castiana no doubt brained him.
 
Indeed, Castiana brought her axehead down on his skull, cleaving it asunder. The two halves of his brain fell out, landing on each side of him with wet squishes.

"Since you approve of your dark gods so much, I send you to them," she said, then crept into the darkness, preparing to ambush anything that came to answer the mage's cries.
 
The mage died with one brutal cleave, corpse tumbling onto the dark stone. She was right, of course, about sending him to his dark gods. As his life left him, his body began to crackle with black flame, the corpse consumed in moments. Where it went, and what its fate would be, was a mystery, and a grisly one at that. One she'd not have time to worry about as footsteps powered up the passage.

The mage was not the only mutated servant in those depths. Creatures who had once been men before they succumbed to darkness in their despair now marched up the tunnel, their forms equally as horrid. What might have once been a knight, clad in rusted plate and chain, lumbered forward with the stiff walk of the damned. His breastplate bulged in an unsightly manner, one massive arm gripping a greatsword in a single-handed grip. The other arm was... strange. Like the pincer of a great crustacean, though rather than serrated spines within, there were what looked like rubbery, slimy feelers.

His - for it had, undoubtedly at some point, been a man - comrade marched alongside him, clearly more the type for skullduggery. Glowing red eyes gazed out of a bloated skull, mouth distended with one great, writhing tongue hanging halfway down his chest. Clad in dark, ancient leathers, he was a good deal quicker on his feet, scouting ahead in the darkness. Her presence would not go unnoticed for long.
 
Castiana noted the strange mutations of these new foes, and wondered with a bit of concern what unholy advantages they would give their owners. Fighting two to one against creatures such as these were not good odds, yet she had to do what she could.

She attacked first, striking out at the smaller one, with a swift blow from her pollaxe.
 
Martial strength met unholy swiftness in a flurry of activity, her mistress watching with no shortage of amusement. Lust wasn't her only delight, after all; who didn't enjoy watching a good fight? Whatever happened to Castiana, the succubus won in the end. Even if she were to come across... him... Iliana had no cause to worry. For now, she watched as the swift scout danced aside, her weapon narrowly missing his lithe form. "Cassius! Cassius, you fool! Up here!" How the scout could speak with his mouth in such a state was a mystery indeed. No doubt some sort of magical enhancement. However, the great brute that had once been a knight lumbered towards them, his blade raised over his shoulder menacingly. "This is what I was called for? Just this?"
 
"Just for this?" Castiana scoffs, insulted. She then bashes the small one in the groin with the back spike of her pollaxe, before turning around to face this newcomer.
 
The smaller mutant was cracked in the crotch with her weapon, falling to the ground in a swirl of pain. However, he was little and less compared to the great brute that stood before her, who had been named Cassius by the smaller creature. With a roar, he raised his greatsword, bringing it crashing down towards her in an arc. Slow, but powerful. It would certainly be best if she avoided everything he threw at her.
 
Castiana sidestepped, raising her pollaxe straight up and down, perpendicular to the beast Cassius's blade, and bashing it to the side. She then brought the axe head down towards his shoulder, her eyes full of righteous fury.
 
The mighty weapon was parried and tilted to the side, causing the steel to bite stone as its arc ended with a great slam. Her followup got the once-knight's attention, teeth bared in a snarl. However, if she thought him defenseless, she had a great deal to learn. His great, claw-like arm slammed up and into the haft of the weapon, bashing it aside with some speed before moving to bash her with a quick swipe. This was a foe that wouldn't go down easy... and somewhere in the back, his scout friend was recovering.
 
Castiana stumbled backwards from the blow, reorienting her polearm in a more defensive stance. Thinking quickly, she began to recite the Litany of Rebuke, since the smaller one had been foolish enough to say Cassius's name in her presence.
 
Cassius had been a knight, but no holy man. He had no idea of the danger he was suddenly in. No, right then, he was following through on his successful strike while she was set off balance. While she tried to take a defensive posture, he lunged in with that claw again, trying to seize her within the tight, wriggling grasp. His friend, however, who had never had cause to give his name, quickly darted over and barreled into her from behind. "Stupid bitch! Quit your chantin'!" Of course, this was done out of fear. Should she finish that Litany... Cassius was quite doomed.
 
Castiana continued the Litany, even as she grabbed the smaller one's long, floppy tongue in her gauntleted hands, and used it to throw him over her shoulder, landing in front of her on the ground hard. The smaller creature simply didn't have the strength or mass to successfully grapple with a plate-armored knight. She then brought a heavy boot down on his skull.
 
The scout was quite taken aback by her choice of attack. That long, flailing tongue was gripped, and it resulted in him being grounded after one hard throw. A shriek of protest was her reward, though it was immediately cut off. Her heavy boot crunched sickeningly against his head, the skull cracking inward and rupturing the brain within. A slow, painful, twitch-filled death for the beast. Meanwhile, while Castiana grew nearer to the end of her Litany, a golden glow seemed to be taking Cassius, as if he were becoming bright with light from the inside out. Even as his clawed grip missed, forcing him to follow up with the sword in another devastating strike. Soon... soon, she would have him.
 
Castiana could now focus her full attention on Cassius, even as she neared the end of the Litany. She knew that his blows could come from either his sword or claw, and was prepared to deflect a strike from either. As his sword came down, she caught it in between the upper horn of her axe-blade and spike, and twisted, placing great force on the corroded, rusty blade.
 
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