“Shhuuuurrrijnth jelllurregth ooytttt!” They answered in their raspy sounds. Atticus and Loxo watched in confusion as the Brambillions raised the makeshift diving bell from the water and began to congregate around Morell.
“Shoorrrruunnntthhpppiiilll!” he shouted, holding his arms out as wide as he could before pointing toward the center of the pool. “Shoorrrruunnntthh hhurrnntttpppiiilll!” Several of the Brambillions responded to this by unravelling their entire bodies down to writhing vines. What the visitors perceived as titan sized statures were nothing more than collections of wound coils that had only been amassed to mimick them. Their hosts went to work in combining themselves into strange elongated forms upon the ground.
“What are they doing?” asked Loxo.
“They’re shape shifting.” Morell said sourly as he wiped away more blood from his wounds. At this point he wasn’t sopping it up or getting rid of it as much as he was smearing it about. “I need a contraption, a fabrication to get the nest out and can’t do it while the eels are trying to devour me. Our new friends are going to give me what I need to get rid of their blight once and for good.” Leaves and stalks splayed and stretched themselves into odd configurations until they produced the final product; an incredibly long, braided vine with another diving bell close to the end. The animated coils slithered like eels themselves as they got into position. When they stopped moving, Morell picked up his knife and flicked his hand free of the excess blood ripping off it. A dour mask of determination was his only expression. “Ixxxtthurrriinnttdtt!” He shouted, stomping his foot upon the rock. Vines started to move again and didn’t slither as much as they rolled like logs toward where he stood. Loxo and Atticus backed away as it approached. When the tip of the stalk dipped into the water, the large bulb opened wide like a blossoming flower. Once open, Morell picked up his magical mace and walked over to stand in the center. The leaves retook their previous shape of a sizeable dome around the boy. “Don’t worry, “ he told the two men as it closed around him. “It will work this time.”
Loxo and Atticus watched aghast as the great vine pushed itself into the water, taking the sealed bulb and the boy with it. Yard upon yard of vine followed it like an enormous green snake going for a dip. Atticus looked to his companion.
“This place is a nightmare that makes no sense.” He told the pirate. “When this ordeal is finished and we find a proper tavern, I’m going to drink until I can forget this place.”
“I’d happily join you, brother, but I fear there is no amount of intoxicating drink that will wipe this scene from our heads for good. Nonetheless, we shall try in earnest to make your plan come true.”
The leaves of the chamber wavered and wafted as the bulb descended to the bottom once more. A central vine ran down the middle from the top to the bottom and below his feet. The light within the gel was getting a little dimmer. It wouldn’t last much longer so timeliness became of the essence. When the tip protruding out the bottom was almost to the floor, the bottom of the bulb splayed wide to create a small chamber of trapped air being forced downward. Morell held tight as the pressure pushed the water aside and out of his path. Below his feet, the eels inky nest came into view once more. The eels had held the advantage once but never again. His skin stung and continued to weep from their vicious bites. Morell’s ears popped when the chamber approached the floor the boy’s contraption of ingenuity and plant life did its job all too well. Like a cup turned upside down in a bucket of water and pressed against the bottom, the atmosphere of water that the eels required to be a threat vanished. Without the water to support the weight of their nest, their greasy nest of tubes flopped over on its side and spilling them out at Morell’s feet. They flipped and flopped helplessly for only a second before Morell was on them with his mace well in hand.
“Come here, you filthy biters…” he seethed as he reared the weapon back to his ear. “I have something new for you bite on.” The mace came down two, three four, eight times, each blow smashing the heads and bodies of the eels to black mush. They tried in vain to slither away but the minimal amount of water left between the air and the floor wasn’t enough for them to escape or swim properly enough to fight back. So heavy were the blows that the impacts could be felt in the feet of his companions high above. Each of them exchanged a look of worry. The mace came down a dozen times, two dozen, three. Morell’s body cried in pain him in protest, and it didn’t him from stop slamming the weapon until he was ankle deep a soup of blood and bashed eel. Jaws and teeth lay scattered amongst the final twitches of the dying. All assailants lay smashed at his feet but the oily nest remained. “And now for you.” he huffed. Quick hands went to work tying the end of the vine around the base of the nest. Like a sailor tying knots he looped it tight around the base and pulled on the end as hard as he could. His task complete, Morell hooked an elbow around the vine before pressing his lips against it. “SHHHOOOODDDENNFIITT” he whispered into it. The vine responded by cinching tight as a noose around the base of the nest. Slowly it moved, then faster and faster still. The tube cluster coming free from its roots was like that of a tree trunk cracking during a windstorm. Roots split and cracked, the entire tube system breaking loose from its moorings. The whole pod shuddered as the leaves came back together at the bottom to collect it all. Like big green shovels the leaves scooped the ankle-deep ichor of black ooze and gore. Once resealed, the whole thing began to rise toward the surface. Morell’s ears popped again, painfully this time. When it reached the surface, he could feel being lifted into the air and moved away from the water. The pod set down and opened again, flushing the mess of bashed eels and blood splashing upon the ground. Twilight fell upon Morell once again. He took a few steps to get out of the muck puddle to stand before the two men; a boy with a mace splattered with victory. As the adrenaline coursing through his body began to dissipate, the collective pain of the many bite marks came hard. He shook with agony, his legs quaking to keep him upright before he collapsed in a long pitiful yelp.
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“Morell!” Loxo exclaimed, rushing to collect him.
“Morell?” Atticus asked to get his attention. “What’s all this mess?”
“Burn it!” he replied weakly through gritted teeth as the mace fell from his hand. “I have a burnable shroom in my pack. Get it. Bring me my pack.”
“Move the boy.” Atticus said to the pirate. “I’ll create a fire.” Loxo did as he was told, and Atticus retrieved the pack and brought it to Morell. The boy’s hands shook clumsily but he did fish out a jar with a strange spore. Per Morell’s instructions, he opened the jar and crushed the dry shroom delicately but thoroughly until the entire sample was a fine, fine powder. After that, he sprinkled the two handfuls of dust evenly across the nest and the corpses before leaving a small trail to the edge.
“Now light it, but keep your distance.” Morell whispered weakly. Atticus did as he was told and took flint and steel to strike up the sparks. It took a few tries but when a lone ember leapt onto the edge of the powder it began to sizzle and glow a bright red before rapidly spreading to the rest. The Brambillions retreated to a safe distance from the growing flame while the three humans looked on. Fire spread quick to ignite more and more of the spore which burned redder and hotter. Before either man had a chance to ask how it reacted in such a manner the entire nest of blight and its occupants were completely engulfed in a fire that burned a bright unnatural red. It was only a few handfuls of shroom, but it burned hot and expelled so much heat that the three had to back away from it. The fire consumed it all and even went as far to scorch the stone ledge of the pool white! A terrible choking white smoke caused Loxo to gag and retreat further. When the fire finally breathed its last, there was nothing left. The blight that had plagued the Brambillions was vanquished for good. Only after the last sparks of the fire died did the last of Morell’s strength abandon him. He’d been leaning up on one elbow. Once he saw with his own eyes that the job was finished, he fell onto his back in a wet “shlorp”. Loxo came to his aid and propped up his head.
