The priest had not the slightest idea of what to do when he was about to be mauled by the two women. The elf's bladevines managed to find their way under the armor, making neat incisions where their movement was inhibited by naught but flesh. Janna's sword and axe combination bit into him. Blood spattered and dribbled from his mouth, and he was then lying in his seat, unmoving. Whether or not he was dead would take more than a glance to determine, but if he was not dead yet, he was not far from its grim clutches.<br/><br/>hen Mirnea finished her incantation to become a dragon, she would feel as though all of her bones were breaking as they realigned themselves. Her skin would red itself as the spikes and horns showed, and it all happened in less than five seconds. She was, from the tip of her snout to the end of her tail, abut sixteen feet long, and with a face just as fierce-looking as Falameezar's. Who, as it turned out, had finally gained an upper hand in his battle with the nalfeshnee. Unable to reach it with his mouth, the black dragon instead opened its mouth. From it sprayed a jet of fluid that had the yellowish color of vomit, and smelled far worse as it all gushed into the demon's face. Though it would have done far worse to any other sort of being, the nalfeshnee still bellowed out in agony as its face sizzled and popped from the acid eating away at its flesh. Falameezar then took advantage of the newfound opportunity and kicked from its stomach, readying himself again in a position not unlike a giant tiger, daring for the demon to even try to make its first move.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>