City of Torment Read Online Free PDF Page A

brain blast. She didn’t want to end up a meal, or worse, a mind-dead thrall. But she was being foolish, of course; how could that happen? The cyst was obviously long bereft of its former dwellers. The senior whip urged the catfish deeper into the demolished community. It could be that which drew her into the depths below Faer�uld be found in this very space! The far wall of the hollow remained obscured in haze, and she wanted to be sure of the cavity’s bounds. The sea coach was drawn inward. It passed only feet over crumbling edges of unspecified structures without roofs, now only unmarked crypts where many monstrosities had met a sudden, moist end. A new structure began to resolve from the swirling water. Its architectural style was different from the foregoing ruins. It retained most of its walls and many of its roofs. It was several stories high, unlike any of the other structures in the cyst, and it had no windows. Something about the new structure reminded Nogah of how the linchpin prayer had almost failed. Was it coincidence the divine ritual most vital to their foray would show instability just as they descended to the depths of the dead illithid community? Perhaps the charm’s collapse and the ruined cyst’s proximity were no accident. Nogah pulled back on the reins. “Curampah�” The catfish screamed, a scale-shivering sound so intense Nogah dropped the reins. A region of free-floating detritus whirled in on itself, becoming a tight column of spinning water. Nogah scrambled for the reins. A moment later the whirling column expanded into a humanoid shape. Violet slime glistened over its rubbery skin. It�s awful head riveted Nogah’s attention. Four long tendrils writhed there, muscular tentacles with bloodstained tips. Its eyes were darkened hollows, empty save for seawater. “It’s undead!” croaked Curampah, bubbles escaping his mouth in two exclamatory clusters. His pincer staff quivered in his unsteady grasp. “Mind flayer undead!” Nogah forgot the reins. She yelled, “Curampah! Think!” If Curampah would stop panicking, they could� Malign influence burst upon Nogah’s brain, trying to insinuate alien desires into her core awareness. The catfish’s scream burbled away. Curampah gasped and let his pincer staff float free. The vacant-eyed mind flayer drifted toward them, making no movement yet accelerating. It had gained a facility in the water in undeath that its kind did not possess in life. What hoary god empowered this husk? It should have rotted to nothing like all its compatriots. The very fact she could still formulate questions meant she had avoided the brunt of the blast that had left Curampah drooling. But without her fellow whip, she couldn’t co-generate an answering stroke strong enough to offer salvation. She tried to think through the terror. Curampah wasn’t dead. It should still be possible… She slapped Curampah’s limp shoulder with her empty palm. Instantly, the tingle that alerted fellow whips to each other’s presence intensified into a full-fledged connection. An electric spark burned between them, an eel of chaotic, fluctuating light. The contact literally jolted Curampah from his mind-numbed haze. The junior whip blinked witlessness from his eyes. Thank the Sea Mother! In the Spellplague’s wake, many whips had lost the ability to co-generate the storm’s sword. But not her, and not Curampah. Its call to destruction burned away the aftereffects of the mind flayer’s blast. The illithid undead slowed its approach, its tentacles suddenly writhing in some new configuration. Nogah drew back her hand, and the lightning bridged the two whips. The crackling arc widened, then began to curve, bowing out toward the approaching illithid. The creature’s tentacles writhed so fast now, the water began to froth. The hollows of its empty eyes glimmered with red light. The connecting spark widened, grew into a ravening bolt that seared the water, creating a shroud of