When a plan comes together...The Emperor never fully slept. It was one of the many modifications to his physical form he had undertaken over the years. There is a sea creature, a porpoise, whose brain sleeps one hemisphere at a time, leaving the other to remain active. The Court Wizard had recreated this phenomenon in JonathanCrazyJ.
Right now, while The Tentacle's Grip rested in the sewers below the castle, The Emperor was latched by his under-sucker to the ceiling, water pleasantly dripping through a crack and dribbling down his suckers. As the water dripped, he contemplated their fate. Drip. Drip.
He was musing over their weaknesses. Drip. Drip.
Formulating a plan.
Drip. Drip.
Drip. Drip.
The Emperor smiled.
"I dislike the idea. I have questions..." The Bard mumbled, quite obviously terrified.
"No further questions! Go, for the glory of Frostkracken!"
And Aves and Krzysiekxd left the group to explore the caves, the bard's luminous body lighting their way as they carefully slithered into the maze.
"Now, it will be several hours until they return - and they WILL return - with an idea of the safest route to the Dragon. In that time, we have work to do. I hate to say it, but if we face the dragon head on, all our magic, our enchantments, our armor and our courage will be useless. Something I have noticed, in my wisdom, while we have been on land... we are too slow."
"NO!"
"How can this be?!"
"I swim marathons at home!"
"Silence, fools, he speaks true" growled Espithel, "My lord, we miss the water."
"We do" replied The Emperor, "I miss it with every pore on every sucker. But on land, we are at a severe disadvantage. The dragon surely has allies within his lair, and even if our armor can protect against his flames, his bulk and talons will surely be enough to gut us like common trout. Yet.." he rested a tendril on the moist wall of the tunnel, "There is hope."
They stood before the blocked passage. Shards of light flickered through gaps in the boulders and danced across the Emperor's now, enchanted scepter. Beyond the pile of rubble lay the final challenge of The Tentacle's Grip.
"Are the Explosions in place?" he whispered, for the third time.
"Yes, my lord." Aves grunted, as he shifted his whale-stomach sack to the other shoulder.
"Good. Crusader! Slither forwards. Remember, you must be as irritating as possible. Taunt him, enrage him, do whatever it takes for him to use his flames."
"Irritating, gotcha. I think I can do that..." chuckled rob77dp while squirting a little ink at Silver Emerald's white body.
"Aww and I just shed my skin..."
"ENOUGH. Save your ink for the dragon. Enchanter, bring the Pulverizer."
The Grip's bantering quickly dulled to silence. It was time. Espithel raised the mace above his head and slammed it into the blockage.
CRACK.
CRACK.
"rrrrraaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!" The Dragon roared.
As the rocks crumbled into a small funnel before the great cavern, rob77dp slithered past Espithel and stood, silhouetted in the mouth of the tunnel. All great battles start with a war-cry, a famous charge for the bards to sing about for generations.
"SUCK ON MY SUCKERS, YOU FIEND!" screamed the crusader and, with surprising dignity, he arched his back and sprayed a great fountain of ink right across the cavern, into the dragon's face.
The roar was deafening. The flames were blinding.
Protected by their flame resistant armor, the savage fire seemed to ripple in slow motion past the brave crusader, and squeeze into the tunnel. As it reached the end of that stretch of the passageway, the explosions ignited. A chain of them, laid out floor by floor out of the dragon's lair, into the sewer, and finally into the reservoir that irrigated the city.
Drip. Drip.
Drip by drip, the sound grew. The Tentacle's Grip laughed deliriously together. They could hear the water, coming. Phase 1 of the plan was complete, and as their newly formed river gushed them into the cavern, The Emperor let go of his written notes. They all knew what to do now.
The Emperor's Plan
