<span style="font-weight: bold">Map of hut-area and temple portico. Wall extending across the top of the image is the front side of the temple proper – as yet unexplored</span><br/><br/><img alt="Image" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v475/emberice/templeapproach.png"/><br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">Alizome</span><br/><br/>Alizome crept towards the ruined temple, a wraith in the darkness. She's able to see the temple portico, eight great granite pillars lit with flickering torches. Behind, great steps lead up to the great temple doorway, shrouded in impenetrable darkness. Between the pillars, a low wall rises, forming a circle ten feet across, perhaps a well for small offerings or a pedestal for preaching. She sees no sign of Xarces.<br/><br/>OOC it's up to Sansuki whether they want to roll stealth and perception again – the existing rolls can continue to carry for the exploration, if they wish. Choices, broadly, are<br/>1 – return to the group,<br/>2 – head across to the Poison Dusk huts to see if Xarces is there. This is where Xarces and Shaklik actually are, and Shaklik is a Poison Dusk, so its not a ridiculous assumption. On the other hand they're not actually in trouble, so it may not be an interesting option.<br/>3 – head into the Portico, maybe using the pillars as cover to try to get a look inside the temple, or investigate the Portico itself more fully<br/>4 – sneak around the back of the temple... see if there are other entrances... maybe try to get up on the roof – Alizome mentioned a rope...<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">Aethon</span><br/><br/>The Blackscale snarled as power<span style="font-style: italic">bound</span>him. He was a coldblood. He was a Blackscale. He was a chosen of the God.<br/><br/>He couldn't move.<br/><br/>The warmblood approached, large but malformed, half-half-crippled carrion-eating ape and half-<span style="font-style: italic">plant</span>muncher.<br/><br/>It reaches down,<span style="font-style: italic">seizes</span>him, how dare<span style="font-style: italic">it</span>lay its hands on<span style="font-style: italic">him</span>, its jaws parting and<span style="font-style: italic">no, no!!!</span>This could not be happening,<span style="font-style: italic">was not happening!!!</span><br/><br/>But it<span style="font-style: italic">was</span>happening. The foul centaur had to kneel, unable or unwilling to support his weight. Surely his broad, Blackscale shoulders, corded with muscle... but the nightmare centaur managed those, too, though he could feel the strain as its taut lips slid down his arms. More and more of his powerful torso, the cold-blooded body he was so proud of, slipped between the centaur's lips - as his head was drawn down by the powerful suction of its throat. Under his weight, he felt the centaur –<span style="font-style: italic">weak, weak</span>– settle to the ground. But the position only aided his inexorable slide into its belly. Already, eager gurgles could be heard ahead, so much more loudly than when he'd swallowed a meal of his own. He couldn't even fight the weak muscles of the warmblood. Power – treacherous, underclawed<span style="font-style: italic">power</span>rendered him...<span style="font-style: italic">helpless</span>...<br/><br/>No! It could be overcome. It<span style="font-style: italic">would</span>be overcome. No other outcome was imaginable.<br/><br/>Gradually, gulp by gulp, he was forced down into the centaur's stomach. It's walls were tight about his torso, yet the centaur inexorably forced his legs down, bending powerful thighs to fold him into a tight mass that still stretched the expanse of the centaur's belly. He could feel himself<span style="font-style: italic">dangling</span>– then,<span style="font-style: italic">not</span>, as the centaur's full body weight came to rest atop him. The belly gurgled around him, its sides beginning to slick with acid. It burned his nose, eyes, mouth. Soon, his scaly skin began to itch...<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">Linda</span><br/><br/>OOC – a DC15 fortitude save will be required to resist the effects of the narcotics you've ingested.<br/><br/>Linda's hair writhes like a Medusa’s, its tentacles coiling around the badly-wounded Blackscale. There's little resistance, if twitches and moans can be so called, as it's bodily drawn in to her eagerly gaping maw. Her throat welcomes its meal enthusiastically, stretching wide around the great mass of the Blackscale, emphasising that, despite her pretty looks, the naga is far more snake than human – and it is down into her snaketail that the Blackscale slides, a great mis-shapen lump beneath the otherwise smooth scales... Already Linda's belly can clearly be heard, gurgling and working to restore her sleek form...<br/><br/>Skeletal entourage in tow, Linda approaches the barely-conscious Blackscale female. The mass bulging her her belly resists the motion, its dull inertia dragging it further down her tail.<br/><br/>Making room for seconds.<br/><br/>Her eyes, gazing down at the helpless piece of meat, are<span style="font-style: italic">hungry</span>.<br/><br/>She licked her lips.<br/><br/>The sensation of being<span style="font-style: italic">full</span>and, at the same time, being further<span style="font-style: italic">fed</span>is indescribable. Linda savors the flavor, as the Blackscale struggles weakly. Both know there's nothing now that can prevent her fate. For the first time, even her vast snakebelly is overfull, welcoming the Blackscale female's powerful legs but quite unable to take her torso.<br/><br/>It matters not. Linda's human stomach is more than willing to absorb – and absorb it will – the remainder. For now, the Blackscale's striking face and her firm lizardbreasts can just be seen, outlined against the smooth, distorted skin of Linda's tum.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">Jules</span><br/><br/>OOC – Sorry, I don't have anything for you at this stage... you could do a heal check [or similar, your choice if you have another applicable skill] to give Linda a bonus on her fortitude save...<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">Xarces</span><br/><br/>Trigger warning for rough-ish but much enjoyed sex and digestion<div style="padding: 3px; background-color: #FFFFFF; border: 1px solid #d8d8d8; font-size: 1em;"><div style="text-transform: uppercase; border-bottom: 1px solid #CCCCCC; margin-bottom: 3px; font-size: 0.8em; font-weight: bold; display: block;"><span onclick="if (this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display != '') {  this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = ''; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;hide&lt;/a&gt;'; } else { this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = 'none'; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;show&lt;/a&gt;'; }"><b>Spoiler: </b><a href="#" onclick="return false;">show</a></span></div><div class="quotecontent"><div style="display: none;">Shaklik purrs, as she as Xarces settle into a matching rhythm. His warm-blooded skin is hot against her scales, but he's hotter, so much hotter, within her. He's larger than her, and correspondingly <span style="font-style: italic">thick</span> and <span style="font-style: italic">long</span>, long enough to reach the deep places... little yips of pain and excitement are drawn from her, as his girth <span style="font-style: italic">rubs</span>, just enough to know more would be too much. To know that this is <span style="font-style: italic">perfect</span>, just <span style="font-style: italic">perfect</span>...<br/><br/>Her belly sloshes, as full as her cunny and treating its <span style="font-style: italic">guest</span> far less pleasurably. She can feel him writhe and struggle as he's bounced, and its a true thrill to know there's <span style="font-style: italic">nothing</span> he can do but be digested.<br/><br/>Shaklik whines, as Xarces pulls from her, though she's <span style="font-style: italic">not</span> finished, and neither she thought had he-<br/><br/>He slapped her tum, hard enough to hurt, but far worse for her meal. She <span style="font-style: italic">felt</span> scale snap, acid rushing onto vulnerable flesh. Blood rushing from the wound, carrying the promise and the flavor of <span style="font-style: italic">nutrition</span>.<br/><br/>"Fuck!" She screamed. "In me. Oh fuck, <span style="font-style: italic">in</span> me[/i]."<br/><br/>Xarces obliged, a hard stroke that would've hurt had she not <span style="font-style: italic">needed</span> it so badly. She burped, fully and long, all over Xarces face, the smell of stomach acid and fresh-digested flesh. Her belly shrinking by at least half as the lizardman within was unceremoniously squeezed by Xarces's strength, forcing him to curl tight even as the air rushed out and acid rushed up. It brought her fast, to an orgasm Xarces's barely seemed to notice – to her delight, as he began to gently pleasure her once more with smooth, measured strokes. Within, she could feel her meal choking as Xarces pulled back. Her meal would live a very little longer, till she was done digesting him, but he'd surely swallowed <span style="font-style: italic">some</span> acids, that would begin to work from within even as her stomach worked from without...<br/><br/>Shaklik's muscles <span style="font-style: italic">tested</span> her meal... and found no resistance to their pressure. He'd accepted his fate, and now both knew he was nothing but food, eaten and digesting, resigned to his destiny of waiting out the – short – wait till she melted him down to a nutritious paste...<br/><br/>Together, the slow fucking of Xarces and the slow nutritious melting of her meal... it was wonderful. Slowly, she let herself build once more. <span style="font-style: italic">You won't have long to wait, my sweet</span>, she thought, to lover and meal both, as a new peak, somehow deeper and <span style="font-style: italic">dirtier</span> rose within her. She could feel it happen, her meal's dying, the completion of its digestion as its nutrition slid into her as fully as her lover's cock... <span style="font-style: italic">together</span>, the two things brought her to orgasm, cum pouring into her cunt as nutritious slurry – the remains of the lizardman – drained into her gut, ready to be absorbed.<br/><br/>"He's gone," she murmured. "He's gone and you've come," she smiled. "That was <span style="font-style: italic">perfect</span>, just <span style="font-style: italic">perfect</span>." She paused, afraid to seem greedy and yet... <span style="font-style: italic">"I'm going to want a lot more of it,</span>" she said. "So don't you think we'd better rejoin your friends and..." she blushed. Already she was thinking of her fellow lizardpeople... Blackscales, the <span style="font-style: italic">chosen of the gods</span>, as, well... potential meals. It was alright. Her divine lover would feed them to her. "And make a start on <span style="font-style: italic">getting</span> some?" She finished.</div></div></div>