Tendrils sweep and probe blindly as the Lumpy humanoid advances into the room. Watching for a bit I try and determine a pattern to it's blind advance before trying to attack. First is a ground sweep, then a chest high swipe, followed closely by multiple tendrils slamming erratically into the ground before it steps forward and repeats. At least know I know why there's so little shrubbery on this floor despite it being infinitely more overgrown and mutated than the 5th.
After a deep swallow, I charge! Jumping over the sweep, ducking under the swipe, then rearing back my club before swing for the misshapen things skull disrupting the slam down!
STHUK!
"AHHHHHHH!"
It's whole body convulse violently as my clubs claws sink into its skull and electricity fills it frame. The creatures chest ripples open inorder to violently scream, before haphazardly spinning like a demented ballerina!
Detaching my hand, to leave my club imbedded and dischargeing into the monster. While trying to retreat, I get battered over a dozen times and flung into the rooms far corner.
By the time I stand back up a feeling minutes later the Lump is already on its last legs. Apparently spinning and screaming were its only real defensesive measure, nether of which worked to dislodge my unnaturally vicious weapon.
Hauling myself to my feet I begin carefully stepping over the twitching limbs, finding myself very thankful for the creatures natural blindness. Eventually I reach the main body whare my club is now just sparking pitifully as I've all but run out of Force to feed it. A wave of desire for more hits me as i reattach my hand and begin prying my club free from the monsters head.
" I'm tapped again, you glutton. We're gonna have to finish this the old fashioned way."
Hiking my club up as I'd seen my uncle do before with his axe when chopping wood. I begin repeatedly plunging my spiked club into the incapacitated monsters side. With dread I watch as this more advanced lumpy creature seems to regenerate despite being separated from the mutated fleshy terrain. So with renewed determination I set about out paicing its recovery.
After what feels like hours but was only about 3 minutes I'm rewarded with a flood of Force poring into me on a scale I've never experienced, at least not consciously. Wanting to use the Force to heal my spirit-body I close off my center with an effort of will.
After a few minutes of feeling like I would explode, the unclaimed Force begins getting absorbed by the five gates that bind my hands, feet and head to me, regardless of distance. Eventually it all pores into my spirit-body like a soothing blam, having undergone some sort of change.
My weapon not wanting to miss a chance also absorbs some of the condensed Force before it can leave my physical body, but seemingly chokes on it due to the density ."just be patient you glutton. We'll fight again in a few hours." I say though gritted teeth as more and more of my sense of touch is restored due to my spirit-body being mended. Perhaps it's due to living as a pile of barely held together chunks of a proper person for most of my life, but i find myself hating the burises that are rapidly beginning to populate my skin after each fight.
Turning away from the corpse we flee the room Intending to hide in for another untainted forested one further down the hallway. We Stope only to crush the tumorus growths of flesh and root, that I suspect will eventually become Lumps Of False Life should they grow large enough.
Thus beginning a tenuous cycle of fighting , healing, fleeing, recovering and more fighting.
-
Strike!
Back step. Lunge. Strike!
Disengage/DISCHARGE!
Bask!…Coalesce. Advance…Advance…Adance!
It's with greater ever accumulating exhaustion we half collapse into a sit in a clean room and reluctantly recover while desperately trying to untangle or emotions and desires.
For the passed… day maybe? I've be half possessed following Gluttons lead. My wepon can't talk, but by following its emotions. Or more accurately letting its emotions guide and control me, I can almost understand it. Glutton as I've come to all the wepon wants nothing more than to emulate a real storm. No it's more accurate to say it wants to become a calamity, a natural disaster that's permanently afixed over a region. Dominanting and shaping a whole realm!
Yet they are too small, or rather young. Glutton doesn't remember what they were before becoming a weapon, but they do remember the hunger, the electricity, and the need to dominate standing above its own kind! Above everything!
What little sense of self I have in this state is spent regulating and regenerating my Force reserves rather than haphazardly and eagerly jumping into new fights. Forcing my body to recover after each fight and funneling the kill energy we receive into my spirit-body. Slowly mending the cuts and burns that weigh me down instead of building a proper Core. Something I'm starting to think is very important to have in this new world. As I've collected a few from the more developed Lumps Of False Life.
Mabye if I was a skilled fighter, or could resist the Aure of dread that all the Lumps Of False life seamingly emit I wouldn't need to let myself go like this… but I suck at fighting" I admit Glutton, you, which are by all accounts an infant are a much better fighter than me…. Oh don't be so smug."
The club practically starters purring at my admission of weakness. Small amounts of electricity bouncing between its three claws managing to emulate the sound.
"No we need rest." I say cutting of the Foce the wepon was siphoning from me. Clearly upset I get to feel the Flase Rijue bite me in retaliation for my refusal. All the while my emotions tremble, shifting between rage, desire for battle and, a bone wary exhaustion, that not even the wepon can hide any longer.
With a grown I stand up and begin stretching, trying desperately to relax my aching muscles and distract my mind from Gluttons desires. Im discovering that Willful Vessel is a truly miraculous trait. So long as I have the Will to do something I can always find the energy to do it. Physical and mental fatigue are still there, it's just not as important. Then again I never gave much care for my bodies limitations until I completely lost the ability to move. Additionally im almost positive that without this trait I'd be functionally enslaved to Gluttons Will. As every invisible bite or scratch is always followed by an insidious infusion of desire.
It's 30 minutes later that i suddenly realize that something is wrong. Mid stretch my exahghsted mind finally noticeiI haven't been rudely interrupted by a wandering tumor as I normally am every 10 minutes or so.
While a part of me doesn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth… a separate part of me Is incredibly frustrated at being ignored! Hefting Glutton into my shoulder we began stalking the hallways trying to find ware all our Prey has gone.
After rounding a third corner we finally hear it… feet trampling along the warped ground. I freeze in surprise as Ghost darts past me whiteout says a word. But before I can pice together a question I'm suddenly accosted by 3 lumpy humanoids, each one far more developed than any other I've face. My heart drops for just a moment before Glutton floods my mind with its desire for battle.