"Omph!" "Ahh, right there." Cantique moans as Nanaive massages a sore spot on her back.
"What have ye been doin ta get sa kinked oop?"
Cantique looks over her shoulder at Nanaive, "It's joost a Krick."
Earlier that day. . .
The five Illuminati ran back through the pit of Saron to re-engage a leper gnome and his vehicle, a plaque eruptor. As Zaonena's Guard shifted into Cantique's periphrial vision, she jumped a bit and muttered something about making it wear a pink vest.
"Okay, Steinhammer said, "we've learned a bit about these guys. They're tricky -- no matter what they do, run out of the way." Cantique was standing bent over with her hands on her knees, breathing hard.
Grinning,Steinhammer charged in, Melyar shifted to feral and stiffened his stance. Zao's demon stomped forward and Melyan stood as calm as a moonbeam.
"Why did I even think I could cast healin's instead of hurtin's today?" Cantique worried and stood with arms akimbo, waiting for signs of injury on the others.
Suddenly a toxic cloud appeared and they were ALL on the move.
That crazy leper gnome, Krick -- on the back of Ick -- seemed a bit unstable as he yelled "No, that one, THAT ONE!, Get that one!" And obediently Ick would turn and chase one of them. But then Krick yelled, "I've changed my mind -- get that one instead. What are you attacking him for? The dangerous one is over there, fool!" The Illuminati scattered and fought on the run, all of them careful to stay out of toxins and away from the edge of the pit behind them.
"Enough moving around -- hold still while I blow them up!"
The five began dodging the mines that Krick conjured up and as the others stabbed, slashed, hit, and burned the tempo in Cantique's head reminded her of her duty for that day. Heal, heal, don't hit, heal, heal, don't hit.
Cantique tries to relax as Nanaive massages her back for her. "Whut were ye thinkin?"
Wincing in pain, Cantique replys, "Joost rub that krick outta mah back will ye?"