ThemefinlandYCH for Kyleb99 (Tarborn), Scorchy_Boi (dragonborn on the ground) and Clevethe-Mt-Ram (converted tarborn on the right)
"That does not belong to you"
The tarborn growled, as if its entire body was vibrating as it spoke. The orb slid away from Scorch's grasp. The claws on the beast's foot dug into his chest.
"You came here for treasure, but you will leave with something far greater than you thought."
The ichor had begun to spread from it's legs over Scorch's chest. It wasn't painful, but it was extremely discomforting in how unnatural the sensation was. It was as if his lower half was becoming numb in the areas where the goo had spread. As if his lower half was missing entirely, or was becoming unresponsive. Just behind the beast he could see forms rising from the tar where his comrades had fell. A legion of anthropomorphic creatures, their features and limbs slowly becoming defined from beneath the ooze.
"Within the orb Boroxis calls for us, and you too will become one of his servants. I will make certain of it. From the ichor our species has come, and to ichor we shall return."
The tar had begun to spread from the black orbs that were hovering above its claws. Rapidly engulfing Scorch's left arm. Straining to pull away Scorch inhaled deeply once as the ooze threatened to cover his head, and then it did. The world became enveloped in black.
Time had passed, Scorch couldn't tell how much. He could feel a newfound strength and a presence of something greater within him, Boroxis. The world was blurry as if seen through groggy and crusted over eyes, but slowly he was gaining his senses of the surroundings and himself. For a moment he wondered whether it was all a hallucination or some kind of a bad dream. But as he looked down, he could now see and feel his tar covered claws, dripping with goo as he held them in front of his eyes. Beyond them, his legs were still slowly forming from the stains of tar all over the ground.
He was shocked, but at the same time, as the creature that had done this to him spoke. His voice felt wise and intelligent painting their descent into monsters of the foglands not as such, but as an ascension. It made him and everyone else feel like this wasn't a curse, but a blessing.
The camp was left bare, torn and scattered as the members of the party scattered into the foglands in their new forms. And they would not be the final party to succumb to the tarborn.
"
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2024-12-20 12:09:05 +0000