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VerboseVillain
Super-Earth
- Joined
- Oct 17, 2018
Deep breaths echoed off of unfeeling stone. Aurilax slumbered, having taken his last meal of the lich's phylactery. A tomb wasn't the best place to make your home. Unless the tomb was that of an undead wizard and one sipped upon magic like so much wine. The perfect place for an irlic to call home for a short while.
Aurilax's mouth tentacles drifted in the stale air. They were grey and hung about two feet long, just to the middle of his bare chest. Pronounced muscles cut through the grey skin of his chest. He did not care much for clothing, although he wore a pair of threadbare pants to protect his senstive genitals. After a mishap with an unseen ooze, he always wore them, even when he left society aboveground.
The room itself was lined with fitted stone. A singular throne with a skeleton occupied the center, while Aurilax slept on the ground behind it. The lich had put up a bit of a fight, but it was difficult for a wizard to attack a creature that ate spells like candy. Aurilax had gotten so full during that fight that he'd had to eject the extra energy from his tentacles to keep from bursting. But once the undead wizard's defenses had been exhausted, the irlic had been able to feast on the magic of its dying corpse for weeks. A fair compromise.
A long hallway went from the room to a secret door. The lich had hoped to keep interlopers at bay, but hadn't considered the bloodhound-like determination of an irlic who could smell magic. A few traps had left scars on Aurilax's arms, but he considered himself lucky. Life was much better here where there was no suspicion or prejudice from wizardry-based society. He could simply eat magical energy to his heart's content.
His tentacles began to bunch and rise. Their sensing nodes could detect something magical close and getting closer. Or someone.
Aurilax's mouth tentacles drifted in the stale air. They were grey and hung about two feet long, just to the middle of his bare chest. Pronounced muscles cut through the grey skin of his chest. He did not care much for clothing, although he wore a pair of threadbare pants to protect his senstive genitals. After a mishap with an unseen ooze, he always wore them, even when he left society aboveground.
The room itself was lined with fitted stone. A singular throne with a skeleton occupied the center, while Aurilax slept on the ground behind it. The lich had put up a bit of a fight, but it was difficult for a wizard to attack a creature that ate spells like candy. Aurilax had gotten so full during that fight that he'd had to eject the extra energy from his tentacles to keep from bursting. But once the undead wizard's defenses had been exhausted, the irlic had been able to feast on the magic of its dying corpse for weeks. A fair compromise.
A long hallway went from the room to a secret door. The lich had hoped to keep interlopers at bay, but hadn't considered the bloodhound-like determination of an irlic who could smell magic. A few traps had left scars on Aurilax's arms, but he considered himself lucky. Life was much better here where there was no suspicion or prejudice from wizardry-based society. He could simply eat magical energy to his heart's content.
His tentacles began to bunch and rise. Their sensing nodes could detect something magical close and getting closer. Or someone.