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| Some might call it a "River Horse", from here. |
Mithra Katkar was unintimidated by the hippo across the waterway that snuffed and bellowed at him and his fellow explorers, and so decided he would deal with the creature through a magical spell that would cause a violation of time and space around both he and it, and perhaps kill it.
He directed his magics toward a nearby tree, which rose up great and tall near the river's edge. The effect of his magic was subtle and profound once it was noticed: a portion of the trunk of this tree could be seen existing where it ought to near the water, and also where it ought not: some fifty feet above the great hippo across the riverbank. Mithra directed this great hunk of wood to be above the hippo, its cast shadow drifting along the bank to stay above the beast.
Although his hope would be that this second trunk would plummet like a great weight and strike the creature dead once the magic had subsided, it instead vanished from the sky and reappeared as a woven wicker effigy at the exact location of the original; so precisely tightly wound that it instantaneously burst apart, causing an irritating shower of shredded material to shower all over them.
Frustrated at this miscalculation Mithra then attempted to call forth another enchantment, but this was less successful than the first one. Instead of manipulating the space around him his magic became deformed, and instead warped the interiors of his mind. He looked up, and instead saw the sky for what it truly was: a vast open hole like a mouth, ready to swallow him like dust up a nostril at any second with no notice. Horrified, he covered his face and closed his eyes, and he knew he could not bear to gaze upon such horrors ever again.
The hippo still paced, unharmed.
He directed his magics toward a nearby tree, which rose up great and tall near the river's edge. The effect of his magic was subtle and profound once it was noticed: a portion of the trunk of this tree could be seen existing where it ought to near the water, and also where it ought not: some fifty feet above the great hippo across the riverbank. Mithra directed this great hunk of wood to be above the hippo, its cast shadow drifting along the bank to stay above the beast.
Although his hope would be that this second trunk would plummet like a great weight and strike the creature dead once the magic had subsided, it instead vanished from the sky and reappeared as a woven wicker effigy at the exact location of the original; so precisely tightly wound that it instantaneously burst apart, causing an irritating shower of shredded material to shower all over them.
Frustrated at this miscalculation Mithra then attempted to call forth another enchantment, but this was less successful than the first one. Instead of manipulating the space around him his magic became deformed, and instead warped the interiors of his mind. He looked up, and instead saw the sky for what it truly was: a vast open hole like a mouth, ready to swallow him like dust up a nostril at any second with no notice. Horrified, he covered his face and closed his eyes, and he knew he could not bear to gaze upon such horrors ever again.
The hippo still paced, unharmed.
Seeing his new companion now suddenly brought to near apoplectica by the sight of the clear blue sky and hot sun, Edoni gazed upon the hippo, and saw that around its left tusk was some small glittering object. Taking a keen interest in this object he pulled out his great rifle and dropped to one knee, leveling it and taking aim at the great waddling beast. His shot blasted echoing through the humming jungle, and there was a great cloud of smoke from the barrel and a wet thud before a roar from the big gray beast as the bullet punched through its hide and a great red gout of blood spurted out into the waters.
The hippo, now enraged, charged into and under the water. Realizing his single bullet was not enough to slay the creature, Edoni dropped his rifle and began hurriedly muttering the incantations to call forth some abyssal creature that might be able to fight back against the great gray monster that would soon be upon them.
As the final words left his lips the sand before him began to shudder. A large round patch began to quiver then rise up, a mound forming and then shaking to scatter off a layer of mud to reveal a pinkish undulating landscape beneath. A tremendous brain lay there wriggling in the muck. It weighed perhaps some 200 pounds, and projected an aura of complete submission and servitude towards Edoni as the 4000 some-odd pound hippo erupted from the water like a roaring boulder and began charging towards them with it’s great gaping maw wide open.
Mithra, now twice horrified, ran towards the somewhat docile mound of flesh Edoni had called forth. He had in his repertoire another enchantment which he thought might save him: he placed an eldritch mark upon the damp flesh of the brain, and this mark caused it to function as a sort of portal. Mithra then stepped into the brain, appearing to walk down between the crack of the two lobes as if there were a tiny stairwell.
Mithra Katkar then existed in a very strange and uncomfortably moist place for a brief moment, but then was able to navigate towards and emerge from a doorway he had prepared inside his humble home for an occasion like this one.
Along the river's the grotesque brain was nearly made unconscious by the strain of Mithras passing, but managed to maintain itself just long enough for the massive body of the hippo to collide with it and then squish into and tumble through the very same obscure portal that had been opened by Mithra. It existed in an uncomfortably moist place for but a moment.
Mithra stepped out from the darkness of the room beyond the doorframe he had kept in preparation as a receptive portal, and then stretched his arms up victoriously and sighed with relief, the sour stink of the jungle still burning in his nostrils as the hippo shot out of that portal too, as a cannonball leaves the barrel.
It’s maw snapped shut on him, and Mithras chest and head were then both crushed and perforated by the great teeth of the creature, his body also battered and smashed as it thrashed him about the room, the walls of his home crumbling as the creature continued to rampage trapped in a space too small for it to ever enter naturally.
On the river's edge the large brain went still, then began to deflate and also sink down into the sand until it vanished.
Though many who would think to steal the great tribute of silver from the forbidden temple on the plateau do indeed manage to find their way towards it using both bravery and guile a great many also do not.
A man named Jonathan Dowe did travel to Nigeria, and would perhaps have made it were he not ended by a plague that reduced his innards to a brownish paste, and turned his bones into a crumbling powder.
The adventurer known as Robert Paulsonne perhaps would have too, were he not to have traveled to Akabo before Khirima, and had his flesh torn off and consumed by the murderous resurrected dead.
The Portuguese soldier called Juan Montoya was one who did indeed make it into the plateau, but now found himself without weaponry or companions as he sprinted through the jungle. He and his fellow adventurers had gone to sleep in the deep jungle, in the midst of a bit of serious drinking. From this Juan awoke disoriented, as his companions were assaulted by a crowd of ravenous baboons that were rapidly tearing them to ribbons. He ran, as fast as he could manage, having only time to throw on his armor he abandoned even his weaponry. He went towards the river, the only landmark he knew.
He came upon a strange scene, with much wailing and unearthly noise, and after parting the leaves and stepping forth he saw before him the two figures he would soon know as Gerald and Edoni, standing before a raft that would soon depart with the three of them after a brief introduction and proposal of companionship.
The three drifted down the river with a sting in their noses and eyes from the mauve and oleander haze in the air around them, sniffling while the river became more tumultuous. It then curved suddenly, and revealed that it was now rapidly rushing them towards a falls.
Quick thinking and quicker movement allowed them a chance to quickly shove the raft to shore, and secure it there before it might tumble off the edge. All immediate paths down to the water below were slick and wrapped with tangled roots, so the three of them decided to instead venture further into the jungle and see if there might be another way.
Edoni, Gerald, and Juan then stumbled through the stinking hazy jungle, hoping to find some egress, some way to the river below. At one point Gerald was overcome with a feverish vision, a beautiful island with a shining hill now existed in the center of the great lake near Khirima. On this island was She-Who-Never-Lives, and she knew who Gerald was, and she was aware of Gerald, and Gerald knew this too.
Their march through the jungle was suddenly halted, as the three were now faced with a new obstacle. The jungle around them was now withered and dead, with bare scab colored dirt below their feet. The pink haze now almost like smoke, and they saw ahead of them a great gouge in the earth, something like a sinkhole after a storm. It churned and bubbled with a thick red fluid, and this spewed and spit into the air and was the clear source of the corruption. They looked upon it perplexed, and unsure.
It was then that Gerald was the first to be transformed. He felt his skin become waxy and tight on his face and back, his body painfully dry and hot all over. His chest compressed, he felt his head drop and his body lower to the ground. With a sensation like knives being pushed through his toes thick claws now burst through the tips of shoes, and his shirt ripped in half as his feathery torso spread wider. There was both cracking and tearing as the twin wet wings spread upwards and outwards from either side of his spine towards the sky.
Edoni looked to his hands and saw them widen, then flatten, then spread and disappear. His arms thinned and widened, he saw the hairs on his forearm thicken and fray into coarse feathers. They moved backwards, and wider, they now rested differently on his body. His knees bent him down, and his armor split and fell off of him.
Juan saw this and so understood what the pain must have meant as his hands too began to melt and stretch, but as his new wings began to spread his overall anatomy began to fail him. This malformation was too severe for him, and blinded with stinking fumes and squealing with unbearable pain his lungs ceased to draw breath as his transformation completed, and he fell dead; unrecognizable as the man he once was.
Gerald and Edoni could each hardly recognize the other, but could see that each of them was still alive (albeit changed completely). The fog no longer burned their nostrils, and while their wretched, half-scaled and feathered bodies were crying out with soreness their new limbs felt understandable, even as natural as their old hands and legs had been.
After a few tentative swipes they then found themselves able to achieve flight, able to rise above the haze and look over the vast canopy of the jungle below.
They then realized a raft was no longer needed.
