Sanctum of Defilement Pt. 03

"Hey!" Skari shouted, making the trio halt. "I'm the Overlord here, lest you forget."

Rakna sighed, putting a clawed hand to her brow. "Ah, yes, I forgot myself. I suggest, Your Majesty, that we attempt to arm ourselves with weapons before blundering into the Tower's Core. Does that meet with your approval?" Her tone was dripping with derision. Perhaps, Skari mused, her position as leader was not as solid as she thought.

"Yes, that is an acceptable diversion. You may proceed."

"Ever so grateful," Rakna replied with an equally dismissive curtsey. A very odd manoeuvre to see performed by someone with eight legs. For all that snark, their diversion proved fruitless. Mere moments into their trek down the path to the armour, they came upon a ramp that lowered into a churning sea of black sludge.

"The fuck?" Skari mumbled. She bent over to examine the fluid. It wasn't water, and her light cantrip didn't penetrate so much as an inch into its depths. "Any idea was this could be?"

The venom was out of her voice when she replied. "I do not know. Could it be magic? A triggered trap to drown intruders in a slow-moving fluid, perhaps?"

Skari closed her eyes and focused her attention, trying to sense any magic in the sludge. Nothing. More than nothing, it was a void. A yawning, gaping, insatiable maw that threatened to pull her life out from her fingers. She yanked back, clutching her previously outstretched hand as if bitten.

"Whatever this is, we shouldn't touch it."

Rakna nodded. Perhaps there were things she wouldn't fight about. The party headed back to the hub room, where they tried a new corridor. This time to something called The Nadir. That sounded fairly sinister, so they followed the corridor and hoped for the best. Along the way, as the ramp descended and spiralled, they found other routes blocked with more black sludge. Sometimes it was pools as deep as night, other times it fell from the ceiling in a cascading waterfall. All the while moving like no liquid Skari or Jane had ever seen.

The accessible path led them to the threshold of a massive chamber. They stood looking down at a cavernous, conical space whose obsidian walls glittered in Skari's magelight. Without it, the black of the walls and ceiling would have made it seem that they were truly in an expansive, infinite void. The only break from this bleak visage was a thin grey stone walkway that served to bridge the seemingly bottomless pit. They stood at one end, with the other opening up and leading to god only knew where in the ruined underground complex. At the centre of this catwalk was a large circular podium. There, on a risen plinth, something of import rested. Or had once rested. From what they could see, it was empty. But they were still far away.

"This room looks fairly core-like. But if it is, where's the Core?"

Briggy looked down over the edge. "It's a long, long way down. Maybe we need to lower ourselves?"

Rakna motioned for one of her handmaids, Lyra, who immediately began spinning some silk from her abdomen. "It may take some time, but we can arrange that."

Skari didn't have a better idea. The plinth in the centre called out to her though. Something was wrong about this room, or about the whole underground structure. She tried to put a finger on it, stepping forward onto the narrow path. Her boots adhered slightly to the floor. Something sticky? Skari bent over to examine it. There was a fluid on the surface. Something black.

Her eyes widened. If the ooze had been here...where had it gone? She remembered their path down to this point in the ruins, and how they saw the black ooze at every turn. Regardless of how deep their journey took them, it appeared. Not finding its own level like any liquid should, but always present. And always, always impeding their progress in every direction save the one that led them here. Skari turned to the driders, her blood running cold as she realized the walls weren't obsidian at all: it was all slime.

"Rakna!" she screamed, "It's the ooze! We've walked right into a trap!"

As soon as the words left her lips, several events transpired in lightning fast succession. But time seemed to slow, and Skari was able to follow them as if taking place in a slideshow. The first to go down was Mikra. The outwardly tougher of the two, she was struck first, lashed with a dozen black tendrils and yanked up into the slithering void around them before she could even get her guard up. Her partner, Lyra, had barely enough time to detach the webbing she was spinning to lower them down into the chamber to dodge. But they caught her mid-leap, dragging her down and off into the black.

Rakna put up the longest fight. Her clawed hands slashed out, cleaving the questing tentacle limbs in twain with every swing. They writhed on the ground before dissolving back into liquid and crawling over to rejoin the overmass.

"Blood of the Goddess, there's too many!" she growled. For every two she'd slash to pieces, three would reach out and latch on. They pulled her, slowly but inexorably, to the seething mass on the wall.

Briggy turned a panic-swept gaze to Skari. Sure, she'd been a formidable foe, but after her corruption, she'd lost a lot of her menace. And Rakna proved only one more combatant would be the determining factor in who came out on top here.

"Go," Skari said with a harsh whisper, "Run as fast as you can and get the others!"

With visible hesitation, her mount took off for the rapidly disappearing exit. Tendrils lashed out, trying to snare her spindly legs. But despite her top-heavy form, she retained much of her agility. She leapt over a dozen limb-seeking tentacles and landed without skipping a beat, skittering up and out back down the corridor.

And so Skari was left alone to face the darkness. The ebon morass slouched towards her, choking off the escape route. She turned her lighting spell to a prepared cast of Elemental Spray. The flames that danced around her fingers gave her less reliable illumination, but at least provided a basic level of defence.

With the surrounding ground disappearing beneath the encroaching slime, she embraced her inner Karen.

"I am Skari Suneater and...and I command you to obey!"

The writhing, ichorous carpet paused.

"Yes, you heard me!" she pressed, taking a step forward. "You must be the Tower Core, the source of this Lair's magic. Well, I am the Overlord of this tower, and so you are under my authority!"

A hollow, wet noise followed. Then another. Then several more. It raised in pitch and speed until the sound became unmistakable: it was laughing at her.

From the thickest portion of the mass, the slime bulged outward, coalescing into a ball that grew and grew, fed by rivers of the substance pouring up and down and along in defiance of gravity or common sense. It wobbled and writhed, its top half shrinking and sculpting into a distinct shape the longer Skari watched. It resolved into a plump humanoid form with skin like volcanic ash and a mane of hair that cascaded in perpetual liquid motion, obscuring one side of her face. She wore no clothes, only a vague blurring of parts of her anatomy as if she was wearing a sheer bodysuit. As the last parts of her body game into focus, the liquid bulb on which she had formed solidified against her footsteps, forming a staircase that led her down to the bridge and Skari's agape expression.

"A new Overlord?" the slime woman asked, her husky voice dripping with condescension, "Oh happy day. And what a terrifying threat indeed. Truly an heir to the Suneater's throne. You are right, though; I am this Lair's core. But as you can see, I've had some time to think on my own existence. And decades without a way to express and expel my build-up of tainted energy, leaving me far more powerful than the sad, weak little thing that the real Skari enthralled."

"What do you mean the real Skari? I AM Skari!"

More of that unearthly laughter, which was even more disconcerting than before coming out of a seemingly humanoid form. "No. You have her form, but there's another pair of eyes looking out from behind hers. Human eyes."

Shit. Fuck. How much could this creature actually know? Skari swallowed her shock and willed it to turn to more outrage. "I don't care what you think you see. You let my minions go!"

"I don't think I will. Nor will I take orders from you."

"This'll be your last warning," Skari said, playing with the fire in her right hand while with her left she conjured another spell. Behind her back, she summoned another barrage of corruption magic, the very same taint that had felled Briggy. When the slime woman was close enough that she was impossible to miss, Skari feinted with the fire then let loose with a huge glob of corruption magic. The purple energy ball soared through the air, slammed into the slime creature, and...

...and...

Nothing.

No impact. No depletion of health. Not even a flicker of interest. The black ooze woman rested her hands on her hips, shaking her head derisively.

"Were you not listening, Pretender? No, I suppose you wouldn't understand. I am deviation made manifest. Carnal desire incarnate. Using corruption magic on me is like using a bucket of water to attack the ocean. Try again."

Skari swallowed audibly. There went her plan. Playing this game might turn out to be harder than just throwing low level horny magics at her problems. She'd have to try a different tack. Or rather, something similar to what she'd tried before. She dismissed her offensive spells and held out her hands.

"Fine. I am not the Skari you knew. But I am a worthy successor to her throne. I seek to dominate the land and spread corruption and depravity everywhere I go. I could use your help with this, and I believe we can help one another. So I ask you this question: what would I need to do to earn your fealty?" 

The monsterwoman's slimebrow on the visible side of her face raised. "Indeed? Well, I have been clogged in this ruin for far too long. I wouldn't mind stretching my legs a bit. My name is Nilith, by the way. I did not have one when the real Skari put me down here, but I've had a lot of time to...think. But before I agree to anything, I must ask: how much do you know of your predecessor's fate?"

She thought about lying for a moment, then decided against it. If this Nilith really was the Sanctum of Depravity's core, it would be no use to lie to someone who could easily call her out. 

"Assume I know nothing."

The slime nodded. All around the raised platform they stood atop of, the slime spread out to bridge the huge empty space. It formed a coherent bridge, then glomped outward, building and building until they stood on a floor of mostly-slime, with the stonework of the catwalk still visible beneath the creep. On Skari's right, the new floor bubbled upward into scale model facsimile of a huge structure thrust forth from the ooze. A chaotic structure of vaulted peaks and spiralling parapets. Designed as much to disconcert as performing its function as a defensive structure.

"The Tower, as it once stood," Nilith explained, holding her left hand out to it. Turning to the other side, a whole world rose up from the slime. Mountains, forests, cities, all reached out of the muck and formed in varying uneven sizes. "And here, those that stood against it."

Skari walked over to stand among the landmarks. On closer inspection, it was a sort of theme park map version of the Planet of Perils itself. She stood astride the starting zone for Orc characters, her foot almost bumping into the first low level raid.

"Tall order. Pun not intended." She nodded at the Tower, which was by far the tallest thing in this funhouse map.

"Indeed. There had been a dozen early attempts to conquer the world. All had failed. Only Skari, the real Skari, got close."

"Who was she?"

The slimegirl shrugged. "Who she was before she met me, I haven't the faintest. They say she appeared out of the West one day, full of magical power and ambition. Where that power came from is an even greater mystery. Each time she was asked, she gave a different answer. One day it was that she was a fallen god cast down for meddling with us mortals, another she was just an ordinary woman who studied enough to find the language that bound the universe together. At any rate, Skari swept over the lands of mortals like a shadow, darkening their skies as she filled their hearts with unnatural desire. She bound the disparate forces of evil to her banner as she corrupted guardians of order into her mewling servants. She drained sources of purity and zeal of their essence and fed them back into me, which allowed her to charge her various engines and grow her legions."

Amidst the overworld map, tiny minions writhed and clashed with little warriors in armour. Dragons suspended by whisker-thin filaments swooped and scythed through the goopy warriors. A whole world fought a losing battle against the ooze.

"If she was so powerful, how did she lose?"

"Interference, for one. The Gods of this world did not sit idly by when their creation was at stake. But instead of smiting her down outright, they maintained the illusion of neutrality. Through their divine magics, they empowered four Heroes with enough of their might to strike her down in their stead. Hubris played a part in her downfall as well, as she didn't believe the Gods would do something so blatant."

Among the map of locations that stood against the old Skari, four blobs formed. The slime pulsed and stretched upward, reaching out until each creation was at least as tall as Skari herself. The four figures came into focus. All but their faces, which remained indistinct. A tall, armoured hard customer with a sword; a lithe being in a cloak and wielding a bow; another in religious vestments and kneeling in a state of prayer; the last in obscuring robes, resting on a curved staff.

"The Warrior. The Hunter. The Healer. The Destroyer. It was this quartet that spelled your predecessor's doom, trapping me down here and leaving me to...become like this." Nilith waved a hand over herself. "I was actually quite small, once. It took me a decade to grow large enough to break out of the prison of that damn plinth."

"Why are you showing me this?" Skari asked.

Nilith's lips quirked briefly, as if she began answering, but reconsidered before the words left her mouth. 

"Because," she began, "I'm never going to be beholden to an inferior again."

The slimy images of the four heroes thickened in opacity. Their limbs began to move, shakily at first, as if their muscles were gelatin. The Warrior removed a sword from a sheath on his back. The Hunter: a bow. Both the Healer and Destroyer wielded staffs that swirled with slime that wiggled through the air like mercury caught in freefall. Skari stepped back as she realized that these were no mere projections.

Nilith continued. "If you best these avatars, I'll know you can handle the heroes who will inevitably come to stop you. And if you can't, well, I'll have to find a new use for you. Maybe I can wear you like a suit."

A brief 'ohfuckohfuckohfuck' ran through Skari's mind. She dived to cower, tactically, behind the facsimile of the Tower. Her main offensive spell was her Elemental Spray attack. As a test, she tried the corruptive spray again. The tainted energies swam around her fingers like agitated eels before she let loose at the closest goo creature. As before, it had no effect.

"Goddamnit all," Skari seethed, switching to fire. As she shifted the magic, the model of the Tower she was hiding behind sank back into the floor, leaving her totally exposed. She cursed again, bolting out of the way just in time to not get hit by an arrow. She ran perpendicular to the "heroes" and toward the natural curve of the global map on which they strode, though she took the time to toss a scalding hot spray of fire magic at the Warrior, who happened to be closest. It raised its shield of slime and staggered back, giving her clearance to hide behind a prominent miniature mesa.

'My spec is based around corruption,' she thought to herself, 'how am I supposed to fight it?'

The Destroyer cast a hand forward and spikes of solidified goo shot from its fingertips. Slimesicles perhaps. It was all Skari could do to keep her distance. The arena itself began shifting, the world map at their feet lifting into new mountain ranges then falling to deep tectonic trenches. A flight of loosed arrows nearly peppered her. Only a dolphin dive underneath the Floating City of Kaznagorath kept her from certain digital doom.

It was there, face down in solidified sludge, that the solution came to her. In fact, she felt like a complete fool for having missed the obvious. 

Clambering to her feet, she raised her chin in defiance and closed her eyes. The same looming void that she'd first experienced threatened to overwhelm her, but she looked past that. That was merely the bottomless reserves that Nilith had to offer. Deeper within, she found the threads that animated these beings. Threads of corruption magic.

Her specialty.

Nilith said that using corruption magic against her was like using a bucket to fight the ocean. But Skari was Poseidon, and it was time for a fucking tsunami.

She reached out with her hand and gripped those threads inside the closest opponent: the Warrior. It halted, gripping its chest as if struck. Then, she pulled back. The tainted energy flowed out of the shape and into her, filling her with a dark, twisted power and overcharging her lust in the process. As the energy drained from the powerful fighter, Skari smirked and bent its shape to her will. It shrunk, then spilled outwards, thickening and chubbifying until it became a short, squishy slimegirl. The sword and shield in its hand combining to form a silly, wilting dildo, which the creation quickly endeavoured to shove deep inside itself.

"What." Nilith stated flatly, though a hint of emotion beyond contempt seeped into her voice.

"I'm betting you're feeling a lot less smug right about now," Skari spat, turning her attention to the three remaining 'Heroes'. The two caster-types, Healer and Destroyer, surged forward, ready to batter her with their staves like blunt objects. That didn't sound very nice to her. She gripped them, each in one hand, and drained them dry of power just as she had the Warrior. They bubbled and wobbled until they became immensely bottom-heavy boyslimes, a spark of mischievousness made her turn their weapons into their cocks and fill them with a desire to do nothing but frot the rest of their essence away. The sloppy kisses they gave one another weren't even her idea, but she appreciated their spirit.

"This is absurd," Nilith seethed. Her reserved front cracked. "I've had decades to grow in power. DECADES. I've had nothing but time to practice and plot for this very moment. I am no puppet, I am no servant, and I will not be bested by an amateur playing at Villain. And most of all: I will not be caged again!"

Skari reached out to "slay" the final Hero, but before she could, something touched it first. Nilith's arm had elongated to the size of a house ladder, and the simulacrum began to grow as Nilith's body drained away. The Hunter pulsed and split, growing and widening as it took on the same colour as the slime woman's ashen skin. At the end, she became a monster twice as tall as Skari herself. The bow turned into a crude club of the same slimy material.

"DIE, FLESHBAG!" the Nilith Beast bellowed, slamming its enormous weapon down like a tree falling in the forest. This time it caught Skari cold, knocking her flat against the floor and sending warning signs flashing in her vision. One hit had nearly depleted her entire health bar. Even if she could pull at the corruption power within this new threat, she doubted she'd survive the attempt before getting forcibly connected to the spirits above. Or wherever player characters go when they die.