Alinn’sora made what appeared to be a simple dismissive gesture in the air, that would have been if her finger-tips did not leave a nauseating smear of purple light to mark their passage.<br/><br/>All around the dungeon the very air itself seemed to ooze and coagulate. The heavy spore particles that had been so recently drifting through the air sank towards the floor and gathered in large pools of spreading black ooze. Some of it fed upon the gory red smear of the dead daemon, infesting his carcass and devouring it. Everywhere the spores settled sickening black forms began to sprout upward through the cracks in the flagstones. Humanoid forms growing and gibbering, taking on bulk as they sucked more spores out of the air to feed their own rampant growth.<br/><br/>The bull’s carcass jerked upright, bubbling with thick tar-like foulness from every orifice. It snapped upward like a marionette brought to life, its head replaced by a streaming fountain of the same hideous black substance. Black veins pushed to the surface through discoloured arms and split as fungal rot forced itself out into the open. The beast shuddered and snapped as its bones shattered and reformed to whatever hideous living proxy Alinn’sora had commanded of it, reshaping constantly until there was nothing left of the daemon as it once been.<br/><br/>It dragged itself toward the nymph with increasingly well-formed strides. By the time it reached here the bull was completely gone. In its stead, fully fleshed out by her dark magics stood a slick and glistening black destrier, pawing at the stones with its hooves, its head dipping irately as it waited impatiently for its mistress to be done.<br/><br/>Yet Alinn’sora was far from done. By the time her mount had formed there were tens more of her fungal minions slipping and slurping into existence. Each one carried a sharp dagger of rank wood and wasted no time in swarming the remaining Taurus. His climax might have left him oblivious to the demise of his brother, but there was no way even his sluggish mind could put pass the sudden explosion of sickly, twisted life erupting into being around him. He swung at the fungus minions with fists the size of hams, felling the fresh-formed creatures in droves. Yet there were always more, and those wooden daggers drank deep of daemon blood.<br/><br/>Small in stature, pathetic of strength, the new minions were nevertheless relentless. Their pinprick blades pierced the bull’s skin in hundreds of places. Ripping and tearing as jagged barbs thrust out of the smooth pieces of black wood. Skin split, eyes were gouged out in nauseatingly bloody gushes of jelly and rent flesh. The daemon screamed and fought back with all his prestigious might, but the rot was inside him now.<br/><br/>Alinn’sora laughed like a daemon herself, throwing her head back with violent and maniacal glee as her children enacted her will. Some of the mycological beings thrust themselves into the wounds they had created and slithered like ebon ooze into the failing form of the daemon. They occupied his body and made it swell and burst from the inside. Muscles came apart and splattered to the floor in a waterfall of greenish-red-black foulness.<br/><br/>Throughout it all Alinn’sora laughed and chuckled her glee, the sheer delight of releasing herself showing through in every glorious smile and movement. She made another arcane gesture and muttered something under her breath, then smeared her clammy hand across a swathe of the bars of Elir and Izzy’s cage, deftly avoiding the puddle of rotten meat that had been the Taurus. Wherever her fingers touched the metal discoloured and rusted in a matter of seconds, falling apart under its own weight.<br/><br/>Without bothering to look back she made her way to the nickering steed she had created and kissed its sticky muzzle. In the moments of silence that followed the echoing sounds of chaos could be heard funnelling down into the dungeon from the castle above. She made a gesture toward the stairs out of the place and her remaining minions surged toward them, save for the two that had not yet left her side. Yet even they looked bolder now, bigger and even more threateningly deadly. Their tiny pinprick blades had lengthened into hideous grooved wooden swords that oozed with an obviously noxious secretion.<br/><br/>‘It would seem that you have your freedom.’ purred Alinn’sora without looking up for the beast she nuzzled affectionately at. ‘I would suggest that you do not squander it while my creations provide a distraction upstairs.’<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>