Re: The Savage Brawl [Round 2: Giant's House]
03-31-2010, 05:47 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Not The Author.
Gormand had a problem.
Well... He had several problems, but there was one pressing matter he would have to deal with soon. Namely, he wasn't nearly as large as he should be.
Gormand had been accompanied for the majority of this round by Konka Rar, who was not a stupid lich. And even if he were an imbicile, there was no conceivable way the necromancer, or anyone for that matter, could fail to notice his companion expand nearly a meter diametrically.
Which was (to flay the desceased equine) a problem.
Gormand had eaten about seventy centimeters worth of cheese, but had only grown three centimeters between leaving the mousetrap and the present, a rate of growth that would leave him feeling uncomfortably overcooked for at least an hour or so. The cheese hadn't even been that great a meal, since most of it would go toward the considerable volume lost during the scuffle at the end of the previous round. For the moment, he'd shifted most of the extra matter to his outer shell, which was typically thicker anyway, but his insides remained uncomfortably dense.
There were three immediately obvious solutions. The first, rapidly expand regardless of the attention it would attract, was tactically inadvisable, as it revealed one of his abilities that dispicable woman had failed to mention. The second, convert the excess matter into an additional organ, was inviable in that the only useful organ that he had the mass for and was hidden from prying eyes was a Viral Gland. Gormand was having enough trouble keeping the Virus off his companions as it was without churning out more of the stuff. Which left option three - his opponents had already been informed of this talent, and his allies wouldn't object much.
"Speaking of betrayal..."
Konka Rar looked away from the ascendant figure of Hoss. He was expecting Gormand's next line of inquiry to be centered on Calm and Diego. He was half-expecting Gormand to accuse him of some form of treachery or another.
He was not at all expecting three of Gormand's limbs to fall from his body and disintegrate into a pile of pink, sticky sludge.
The necromancer gazed on in morbid curiosity. A new trio of noodles had sprouted to replace those now decorating the floor, while Gormand simply appeared to be glaring at the heap of goo before him. Konka Rar was only marginally surprised when the slag lifted clear of the floor and formed a rough orb hanging in front of the meatball; less so when the one sphere split into six.
The pâté spheres split into a pair of threes: two smaller balls orbiting one larger ball. These stretched vertically into cylinders, then thinned sharply at the ends while widening in the middle. The end result looked vaguely like a bunch of rolling pins made of meat paste. But whatever Gormand was doing, it seemed he wasn't done. The tubes started taking on definition, forming into what appeared, at first, to be curious lumps on a stick. There was a sizzling noise, a pleasant smell, and the sticky pink shapes took on new texture and color. Konka Rar realized that "curious lumps on a stick" was practically the definition of what Gormand had made.
The entire process had taken approximately fifteen seconds.
Though he was fairly certain of the answer he would recieve, Konka Rar asked anyway.
"What are those?"
"Kabobs."
"I can see that."
Various cooked meats and vegetables impaled upon a pair of wooden sticks hovered a few inches off the ground, each orbited by two shorter, metalic, more sparsely garnished skewers. They appeared to be looking at Gormand, though how the lich arrived at such a conclusion was something he never quite understood.
Gormand, meanwhile, had almost made the error of instructing his units mentally. While it came more naturally to him, and was generally more convenient, it posed the same problem as suddenly growing considerably larger: it would raise questions he'd rather not have to answer. One of those questions would invariably be 'where are those things going,' anyway.
"You, assist Diego and Calm. They'll have arrived at the bed by now. You. Track down Ekelhaft. He's most likely somewhere around the living room table. If you find him, observe. Do not engage him in combat." He waved an arm, and his minions sped off on their missions. The meatball turned to his companion. "That should help us keep tabs on everyone. Now, if you'll excuse me..."
Gormand swept past Konka Rar, gaze firmly affixed to the pristine white monolith at the end of the kitchen. "...I have to figure out how to open a refrigerator the size of a small house."
Gormand had a problem.
Well... He had several problems, but there was one pressing matter he would have to deal with soon. Namely, he wasn't nearly as large as he should be.
Gormand had been accompanied for the majority of this round by Konka Rar, who was not a stupid lich. And even if he were an imbicile, there was no conceivable way the necromancer, or anyone for that matter, could fail to notice his companion expand nearly a meter diametrically.
Which was (to flay the desceased equine) a problem.
Gormand had eaten about seventy centimeters worth of cheese, but had only grown three centimeters between leaving the mousetrap and the present, a rate of growth that would leave him feeling uncomfortably overcooked for at least an hour or so. The cheese hadn't even been that great a meal, since most of it would go toward the considerable volume lost during the scuffle at the end of the previous round. For the moment, he'd shifted most of the extra matter to his outer shell, which was typically thicker anyway, but his insides remained uncomfortably dense.
There were three immediately obvious solutions. The first, rapidly expand regardless of the attention it would attract, was tactically inadvisable, as it revealed one of his abilities that dispicable woman had failed to mention. The second, convert the excess matter into an additional organ, was inviable in that the only useful organ that he had the mass for and was hidden from prying eyes was a Viral Gland. Gormand was having enough trouble keeping the Virus off his companions as it was without churning out more of the stuff. Which left option three - his opponents had already been informed of this talent, and his allies wouldn't object much.
"Speaking of betrayal..."
Konka Rar looked away from the ascendant figure of Hoss. He was expecting Gormand's next line of inquiry to be centered on Calm and Diego. He was half-expecting Gormand to accuse him of some form of treachery or another.
He was not at all expecting three of Gormand's limbs to fall from his body and disintegrate into a pile of pink, sticky sludge.
The necromancer gazed on in morbid curiosity. A new trio of noodles had sprouted to replace those now decorating the floor, while Gormand simply appeared to be glaring at the heap of goo before him. Konka Rar was only marginally surprised when the slag lifted clear of the floor and formed a rough orb hanging in front of the meatball; less so when the one sphere split into six.
The pâté spheres split into a pair of threes: two smaller balls orbiting one larger ball. These stretched vertically into cylinders, then thinned sharply at the ends while widening in the middle. The end result looked vaguely like a bunch of rolling pins made of meat paste. But whatever Gormand was doing, it seemed he wasn't done. The tubes started taking on definition, forming into what appeared, at first, to be curious lumps on a stick. There was a sizzling noise, a pleasant smell, and the sticky pink shapes took on new texture and color. Konka Rar realized that "curious lumps on a stick" was practically the definition of what Gormand had made.
The entire process had taken approximately fifteen seconds.
Though he was fairly certain of the answer he would recieve, Konka Rar asked anyway.
"What are those?"
"Kabobs."
"I can see that."
Various cooked meats and vegetables impaled upon a pair of wooden sticks hovered a few inches off the ground, each orbited by two shorter, metalic, more sparsely garnished skewers. They appeared to be looking at Gormand, though how the lich arrived at such a conclusion was something he never quite understood.
Gormand, meanwhile, had almost made the error of instructing his units mentally. While it came more naturally to him, and was generally more convenient, it posed the same problem as suddenly growing considerably larger: it would raise questions he'd rather not have to answer. One of those questions would invariably be 'where are those things going,' anyway.
"You, assist Diego and Calm. They'll have arrived at the bed by now. You. Track down Ekelhaft. He's most likely somewhere around the living room table. If you find him, observe. Do not engage him in combat." He waved an arm, and his minions sped off on their missions. The meatball turned to his companion. "That should help us keep tabs on everyone. Now, if you'll excuse me..."
Gormand swept past Konka Rar, gaze firmly affixed to the pristine white monolith at the end of the kitchen. "...I have to figure out how to open a refrigerator the size of a small house."
![[Image: 2vcggp1.png]](https://i42.tinypic.com/2vcggp1.png)