Guess what Heroic Ability Neriglissar got.
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The whale moved towards Fraal, its blubber rippling as it swam past the smaller, crippled Atlantian Queen. Fraal noticed the arms and realized that it was another Atlantian, though an especially large and fat one.
Fraal continued his charge, slamming into it with full force with his comrades. He even managed to tear a gaping wound in the thing's stomach, though it didn't seem to care. As others tore in, he noticed that both the Atlantians regenerated unnaturally quickly.
He ducked as a vast quarterstaff appeared from the rolls of the thing's thick chest and slammed right past him into his friend. He stabbed again, but the thing ignored his trident and carved a path of destruction through his friends.
One of the survivors, a triton Fraal couldn't recognize, turned tail and retreated. Fraal followed, and soon the whale-with-arms was far behind them, huffing and puffing as its cheeks turned a strange color of purple, struggling to catch up to an army of Tritons in their element. Fraal was already trying to decide where to hide--go back to his village? Join a mercwenary band prowling the waters? Or perhaps with mysterious Khreshaal who had promised the commander riches?
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Cax Kulu glanced nervously at the Basalt King. He had suggested the try out the new formation on a smaller target first, but the King had insisted on attacking the prestigious Amber Clan. The soldiers were clearly agitated as well, though the Deep Ones seemed to still be excited about the prospect of fresh meat. The rushing sound told him before he even looked that the Tritons were charging, and the battle was on.
The well-defended Shamblers and Spearman took up the first wave of Atlantians, charging forwards with their shields ready to take the tritons' tridents. The Amber Clan elite tore through them like butter, aiming at the poorly-defended heads or simply smashing through the thin shields. The survivors put up a meager attack as the second wave attacked.
The Deep Ones loped towards the tritons on all fours, jumping and clawing and biting at them. The armor simply withstood all but the most fierce attacks. Cax Kulu pushed and shoved, desperate to get to the front where he might do some good, but the Atlantians resisted him with as much vigor as they did the enemy. Looking for the King, the noticed the vast monarch was simply standing back and admiring his sword.
The counterattack was vicious. The unarmed and unarmored Deep Ones gave no resistance to the enemy tritons. The few men remaining took a look behind them and ran full-speed for the hills. Looking with them, Cax Kulu saw that bastard King running away, already farther ahead than any of the others. Not wanting to be left for dead in a rout, he followed the lead of his men.
The tritons swam past him, crushing the Deep Ones. A whole group went after the Basalt King; the fool simply continued to run even with the tridents speared through him. Cax Kulu gave himself a moment to--
A trident slammed through the back of his head, through his eye. He fell with a soft crash, the spikes on his armor breaking as they touched the ground.
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I give the good-for-nothing a sword. A fancy, shiny sword that's supposed to make him more awesome. What does he do? NOTHING.
