Aenar lept at the creatures arm to attempt to free trannigan. The beast used it's free arm to swipe Aenar away slamming him into a tree. The Nord attempted to block the monsters next strike but the beast reduced his shield to splinters. Aenar stabbed at the beast letting out a vicious war cry.

Hroggar

Hroggar frowned as the Imperial and the Nord distracted the beast, disappointed that he wouldn't be getting a chance to be torn limb from limb and devoured by it. The Nord was hacking at the beast, who had so far held it's own against him. Overall, it appeared that it was winning. He did love to see such destruction at the hands of an inhuman abomination.
Hroggar prepared himself and ran towards the monster as the Nord attacked it, jumping on top of it. He charged a spell into his staff; a blast of pure arcane energy to eat away at the creature's flesh. Grabbing onto a jagged bone sticking out of the creature's back, he slammed his staff down onto it's head (or what he assumed was it's head), letting loose most of his remaining power.

He assumed that the creature would buck him off after he'd cast the spell, but instead a number of tendrils of rotten yet strong flesh came rapidly slinking out of it, wrapping around his arm and grabbing tightly. He howled in pain and bashed it's head again, this time without any magic. However, the beast refused to let go, simply tightening it's grip on him.
"Oh, by Dementia..." He moaned, trying and failing to pull away. It looked like being slowly devoured by the undead beast wasn't so fun...

Gearalt saw the mad man atop the creatures back, slowly being consumed. The Nord canceled his spell and ran into the fray with the intent of freeing the man. With one mighty slash, the claymore sliced a tendril that had wrapped itself around the crazed man's arm.

Gearalt (panicked): "Get off of it you damned fool!"

The decapitated tendril writhed and squirmed on the ground, eventually wiggling it's way back to the fleshy monster.

Julius Scipion, Weye


Julius watched as the monster leapt out at his comrades he stumbled back and watched as in a split second everyone leapt into action he drew his katana and set to work sending magicka down his katana he set it alight then stepped into the fray twirling his katana then using all of his magicka he formed a fireball in his left hand and cast it into the monster before retreating to gain clarity of mind, but still stepping in to slash at the monster.

Terrortrouph, Weye

The beast hissed in glee as the mad Nord leapt upon its back. Arcane energy frizzled against the Terrortrouph’s form, but that spell was practically useless against the hunter’s unholy essence. Tendrils raced from the creature’s back and wrapped around the Nord’s arm, drawing the life from him. Do you feel that? the Terrortrouph whispered into the madman’s brain. Do you feel your life draining from your body?

Another screech of glee was about to escape the beast’s mouth when a burly human’s blade, sharp as obsidian cut through the tendril, severing the connection. The screech it emitted was no longer of elation, but wild fury. A blur of black motion sent the filthy human who defiled the Terrortrouph’s body back, flying through the air at the mercy of a vicious backhand blow.

Suddenly another blast of flame pushed the creature back. The heat was intense, but annoying at best. The beast lost its grounding and stumbled, the man who cast the fireball leaping forward with a curved sword, attacking with articulate slashes. If the battle kept going at this rate, the beast would be lucky to leave the fight with his life, but at least most of the mortals would be dead, or worse.

With an angry hiss, the Terrortrouph’s taloned palm seemed to boil and dissolve, three spindly tentacles lashing forward at a speed that the mortal’s petty eyes would be unable to comprehend. The tendrils wrapped around the attackers sword arm and leg, pulling him to the ground. The beast’s foul magic began to work immediately, the deceased and tortured souls that composed the Terrortrouph surging forward in anger, drawing the life from the victim. Another mortal wishes to test their pathetic metal against me? teased the monster through the mental link, screaming into the man’s mind. You are nothing to me, nothing but a play thing, a snack!

Julius Scipion

Julius fell backwards and heard the creature taunt him he felt a surge of anger and with a roar leapt to his feet using magic he enhanced his speed sliding under the monster he inflicted a gash on its side before jumping on to the creatures back he ran up slashing before placing his katana above the creatures head and shouting "I am not a plaything I am high elf" and stabbed downwards into the creatures head as the katana was in the creatures head he sent a surge of shock magic down the katana.

wow amazing!

Parvo

The beast, the thing, whatever it was was laying into them. Parvo laid his hand on the handle of his mace and in an ugly motion he pulled it free of its holster. He practiced with it for years, learning it's weight and movements. He moved towards the massive creature, swinging his mace in a free circle. It didn't seem to have seen him, being otherwise occupied with the barrage of magicka striking it. He crept around to its flank and lashed out powerfully with the steel in his hand.

The thing swung a limb out at him, knocking his mace clean out of his hands and out of reach. A second appendage shot out at him, viciously barbed and sharpened. It struck him in the chest. It pierced his armor with ease and passed out the other side of Parvo before the pain had even registered. He looked down at the wound, blood was already leaking into the white and purple of his cuirass. A cry of surprise turned into a cough of blood. Parvo stumbled backwards away from the zombie, the warm blood from his chest now trickling down into his breeches. He fell to his knees coughing blood. The creature, almost mercifully, dispatched him with a powerful blow to the back of his exposed head. The last thing Parvo saw was the beast moving away from him. For all his skill, his experience, his faith, Parvo died bleeding into the ground surrounded by strangers and very much alone.

While the battle continued in the real world, Trannigan was struggling to fend off the monsters influence.He was still being plagued by horrible visions of hurting his loved ones, as well as those that he had met just moments before in the Inn. He writhed around on the ground as he tried to focus his mind but the beast would not let up with it's manipulations. Slowly Trannigan pulled himself up on his knees and with a combination of willpower and rage, he focused a blast of fire onto his own hand. The fire managed to burn off a good bit of the part of the creature that was stuck to his arm, and the pain of the fire burning his own flesh helped sober his mind back to reality. He looked over to where the creature was slowly winning over the others, and he struggled up to his feet. Seeing that the beast was still able to take so many forms of attack was beginning to greatly trouble the Imperial, and he began to give up hope until he remembered that Lake Rumare was nearby. Perhaps if they got the thing in the water, they could better encase the thing in chilling ice or use the water to enhance shock spells a little more. Hell maybe the thing would even begin to dissolve if soaked in the lake. This thing has to have some kind of weakness.

"Try to draw this thing toward's Lake Rumare!" He shouted loudly to the others. "We may be able to use the water there to our advantage somehow."

Nine divines watch over my soul if i should fall this day.

Aenar heard Trannigan shout and lept over the shadowy tendrils of the beast. He looked in the direction of the lake and began pounding the pommel of his sword against his armor hoping to catch the attention of the creature.

"Hey! Over here you great big [censored]! Come over here if you think your man enough!" He slowly worked his way towards the lake keeping his eyes on the creature at all times.

Terrortrouph, Weye

The Altmer that was under the beast’s influence suddenly conjured enough rage and will to break free of his grasp, mentally and physically. “I am high elf!” roared the pitiful Mer as he lunged forward, cutting the beast across the midsection, and thrusting his blade downwards into its skull, along with a surge of painful magic with it. The Terrortrouph screamed in agony as it bucked its head, sending the Altmer soaring through the air, landing on the earth with a bone breaking force.

How could a mortal, even a powerful Mer escape the grasp of my will? The Terrortrouph found the answer quickly, a Dunmer in a black coat was channeling his sorcery through the rest of the humans, making them stronger, faster, and far more willful. The beast took a step forward and staggered, the wound delivered to its skull was deep and painful, nearly fatal, but it was beginning to heal nicely. Any more wounds like that would surely end the beast, though the pathetic mortals would need strong weapons for such maneuvers- it is a surprise that the katana didn’t snap upon breaking through the chitinous plates of the Terrotrouph’s skull.

A mace came towards the creature before it could take another step. Anger surged through the beast, and multiple appendages sprouted from its back. One swiped the weapon from the armored man’s hand, the other impaling him through the chest. An easy kill! squeed the creature as it crushed the man’s skull.

One of the mortals rose from his prone and injured position from the ground, sending a gout of spellfire towards the Terrortrouph. The flames washed over the creature, and it screamed once more. The fire was beging to become more than just a nuisance, but an outright torturous procedure. Heat, ungodly heat throbbed beneath the beast’s rubbery flesh. This needs to end now, and I will start with the sorcerer. A big man was banging his weapon stupidly against his armor, shouting something in his idiotic language. You’re next.

The Terrortrouph sent a tendril lashing towards the man who shot the fireball as it ran by, but didn’t slow down to see the result of the attack. The creature closed the distance between itself and the Dunmer, the fear growing in his eyes. Once the Dark Elf was dead, the spell giving the others enhanced abilities would fall, as would the humans.

OOC: [censored] post.

Hroggar

The force of his landing knocked Hroggar cold for a few minutes, making him oblivious to the battle that was raging around him. He had a wonderful nightmare where he was King of All Bruma, and he feasted on a merry elk along with his subjects, only for it come alive and devour him whole.
Upon waking, he saw that the battle continued; some of them were trying to attract the beast in the direction of the lake, and it was charging at a Dunmer. Thinking quickly, Hroggar searched for his staff. It was laying on the ground a few feet behind the charging monster, pointed right at it.
Perfect, Hroggar thought, drawing on his connection with the staff. He thought of a spell to cast; something that would at least slow the creature down, if not end it's gruesome life in a bloody explosion. Unsure of what might have a deadly effect on the beast, he chose to cast a strong spell of Burden; it would slow the creature down enough so that the Dunmer could get out of the way, assuming he could cast the spell on time. He pumped as much of his power as he could into the spell and fired, collapsing to the ground from loss of energy. He only hoped that, assuming the spell failed, the Dunmer's death would be entertaining.

(OOC: Sorry for the [censored] post, I just figured I should post something or else I'd fall behind).

Daedalus watched the events unfold with a mixture of awe and terror. The whole time while his comrades had been battling the beast, the Breton had been anolyzing it- searching for any signs of weakness.
His thoughts were interrupted by the creatures roars as it charged after Varth.

Daedalus unsheathed his blade and against all his brain was telling him, ran towards the monster. While running towards the backside of the Terrortrouph all the while dipping his dagger into a bottle of a very
deadly concoction known as lotus extract.

For reason be it his nervous fear or a new-found ferocity the Breton began to sing

"Oh there once was a hero named Ragnar the Red who came riding to Whiterun from old Rorikstead!"

The monster turned to face him.

"And the braggart did swagger and brandish his blade as he told of bold battles and gold he had made"

Much to Daedalus's surprise, the monster seemed to shrink back at the "joyful" song

"But then he went quiet, did Ragnar the Red when he met the shieldmaiden Matilda who said:"

The Terrortrouph shrieked in rage and extended an appendage in a slashing motion.

"Oh you talk and you lie and you drink all our mead, now I think its high time that you lie down and bleed"

Daedalus ducked under the attack and ran his blade across the monsters body

"And so then came clashing and slashing of steal, as the brave lass Matilda charged in full of zeal"

"And the bragger named Rag-"

Daedalus was cut off as the demon smacked him in the chest. The young Breton was launched back several yards and lay sprawled on his back. The Dunmer named Varth ran over to him
and crouched by his side.

"Take this." Daedalus managed to gasp as he pulled a Grand Elixr of Exploration from his pouch. He had considered using it earlier, but he knew that Varth could make better use of the powerful potion.

"and make a joyful noise friend." Daedalus smiled as he passed into unconsciousness.

Gearalt watch carefully as the unholy assemblage of flesh and bone writhed as the lotus extract took it's toll.

Gearalt: "Good, looks like that manmer did something after all."

Noticing that everything was clear, Gearalt ran up to the beast, claymore at his side. When the approaching Nord was close enough, Gearalt used all his weight and momentum to swing the silver claymore in a full circle. Silver met flesh as it ripped the creature in half. The heavy swing threw Gearalt off balance and he fell to the ground. His arms wore themselves out.

Gearalt: "This hasn't happened since I first joined the Fighters Guild, heh".

Upon hearing Trannigan's idea, Aener began beating his weapon on his shield to distract the beast. The group slowly made their way towards the water and kept trying to hack at the beast along the way. It managed to kill one of them, and had already greatly injured 2 or 3 of them, not counting Trannigan. The flame spell that the Imperial used to break himself from the demons influence left his spell hand badly damaged, enough that he wouldn't be able to use it for a large amount of time once the adrenaline of battle wore off.

The older Nord who had been behaving in the Tavern as if he was a crazy man picked his staff from the ground, and hurled what seemed to be a spell of Burden. The spell seemed to have a small affect on the creature as it slowed down a little bit then some of the others blasted it with more fire spells and other such effects. Trannigan began to notice that fire seemed to actually be causing the creature some pain, and also that as they attacked it enough times with the weapons enough times it did not regenerate its limbs as quickly, as evidenced by the Breton's attacks before he got knocked away, and by the Dunmer and Gearalts attacks with his silver Claymore.

Looks like a new plan then. Time to just burn this nightmare into dust! He thought to himself and let out a sly grin. Gripping his blade tightly into his left hand he ran up to the threat, plunging his sword deeply into the creatures eye socket. The beast let out another roar and he left go of his sword, then took a few steps back and while lifting both hands he pumped as many bolts of fire towards the creature as his magicka reserves could muster. Surely using his already burnt hand was causing the burns to worsen but the Imperial still had a feeling of desperation blaring in his head.

Julius Scipion, Weye

Julius flew through the air to land on a grassy knoll he stood up dazed before the adrenaline pumped him back into action the creatures back was turned away from him Julius picked up his Katana and ran towards the creature Slicing down the creatures back before climbing onto the creature again the wound in it its head was already healing Julius threw of his blades gauntlet and then charging a fireball into his hand placed it on top of the creatures head he summoned the all of his magicka and applied as much fire magic through his hand as possible downwards into the creatures head all Julius remembered was an explosion before flying through the air and falling into sweet unconsciousness.

Aenar continued his path towards the lake hacking and slashing at any stray tendrils that came near him. He watched as the the others began to attack the creature from all directions. He saw a few use spells and at his point he wished for some magical skill or even a bow so that he could strike from afar.

Hroggar slowly forced himself to get to his feet, scowling. The singing merry tiger lillies were going mad in his head, writhing and trying to force their way out of his skull, but he forced himself to focus on the battle. The others were closing in on the creation, using primarily fire magic. It appeared that fire stunted the beast's healing ability; clever...
Regaining his balance, he picked up his staff and pointed it at the creature. His head was still throbbing, but he'd recovered just enough power for one more spell. He aimed his staff carefully at the creature's face and released a tendril of flame, which wrapped itself around the beast's throat. He wasn't sure if the creature breathed, but it would at least burn it badly. He quickly tightened the tendril of fire, cutting into the creature's neck. It's head fell clean off, landed on the ground and rolling for several feet.
Expectedly, the creature continued to fight for a few seconds, not bothered by it's sudden headlessness. However, it eventually fell over, twitching for a moment, and then stopping.
"Too bad," Hroggar proclaimed loudly, "That Baligwog-spawn of a monster had style."

It seemed that the insane Nord had managed to end the beast for good. Trannigan stared with a shocked expression for a few moments, then gave a little shiver because he still did not fully believe that what ever that thing was had actually dead. He walked up to the beast, pulling his sword from it's mangled body and placed it into it's sheath. He then stared at the thing for a good few minutes before the feeling of uneasyness became overwhelming to him. The Imperial began to move around for any fairly large pieces of wood he could find and began placing it around the beast. Then he used what magic he had left to light the wood on fire, then turned to the others, saying out loud that he will feel much better once that strange creature is burnt to ashes and bones.

OOC: Sorry it is sorta crappy. Am pretty tired from the car ride.

The pain in Gearalt's arm vanished instantly when he laid a healing hand on his shoulder. Slowly, he pulled himself up and observed the motionless pile of flesh. Pieces of the monster were strewn across the ground, each one being burned away by the others in the group.

Gearalt: "Can't be too careful."

He gawked. But the mages paid no attention. Gearalt turned his attention to the mad Nord who had delivered the final death blow. He was surprised how quick the madman progressed from a would be dinner to the beast's slayer.

Gearalt: "Nice work there brother. Wouldn't let the beast have his way with you again I reckon?"

Gearalt let out a hardy laugh.