Galgrin grinned, and raced not yet for the exit, but the infrastructure of the Forge--its very skeleton: the towering poles and tanks that held the entire thing upright. Snarl was already turning, ripping down the exhaust piping, letting it crash down into the molten rock.

Piru kept watch for those last few moments.

At last, mere moments after Gravedigger opened them a new exit and began to dig, there was an enormous explosion behind him. Or if not an explosion, something collapsing: something enormous, falling, destroyed so completely that the ground shook, a cloud of smoke and dust blackening the air and filling the new tunnel just behind him. Metal beams, scaffolding, shelves and valves, rods and poles and fencing, all came crashing down: entangled, a domino effect of the outside of the place losing all stability and dragging itself into melted oblivion. The Valkhounds wouldn't see what it looked like by the time the smoke cleared, unless they lingered for the view. But the only word for it would be devastation: tangled, melted metal half-crushed by fallen rock. Piles of boulders, the molten rivers overflowed and covering the entire floor of the pit, destined to burn and seethe and bubble for days to come before at last hardening decisively over all the the technology these men had worked generations to build up.

Their forge--the source of their weapons, their armor and their machines--was destroyed.

Already, shouts of dismay were rising from the city around the Pit; but there was no one to spare, no army left that was not already struggling to engage with the forces that were already tearing through the city.

Gravedigger and his small crew had time to escape at their leisure, if they so chose. "Let's GO!" came a voice, as they piled in behind. It wasn't clear if it was urgently alarmed, or cheering.

@Gravedigger

All your dreams are down below

the gravedigger

It was glorious. The Gravedigger pulled out its own piece of the structure and watched briefly as the entire thing collapsed, a sound that nearly shattered its sensitive eardrums. It didn't care, though. It was as euphoric to it as the taste of blood to other Valkhounds. This was what it had been made for - this destruction.

Never mind that it hadn't actually assisted directly in the collapse of the forge, but it wasn't thinking of specifics at the moment. The softer, kinder Gravedigger was gone. Only the valkhound remained.

It turned and shoved itself into the tunnel moments before the others piled in after it, scrambling up the slightly slick incline - the drawback of magic over its own physical tunneling. It was already at the top of what the magic had done and beginning to crunch down on rocks once again to push them forwards. Its plan now, not a new one but the old one that was sticking through the eruption, was to get the three valkhounds up to the surface - they'd done their diligence here, destroying the machine. They could help it no longer on its next mission - better get them killing.

It snarled as it worked, rabidly biting at the rock and stone, perhaps not as efficient as it was when it was more reasonable, but it could not be denied that it was putting a lot of heart into its job. It tunneled up, as steep an incline as it could without sending the others tumbling to their deaths, before at last breaching the surface. It had only made sure that the tunnel was still within the walls of the castle. How far from the fighting, well, that it hadn't calculated.

The Gravedigger burst right up through the ground and climbed out of the tunnel, making way for the three valkhounds that had followed, eyes almost gleaming with its excitement. "Good work. Go and kill now - I have more tunnels to build." Its voice was a delighted snarl, still reveling at the mechanical carnage they had just unleashed. Something underneath hoped that it would see these three again at the end of the fighting.

buried under broken bones

The stone was breached, and the muffled heat of the earth replaced with the roar of battle and the tang of blood on the air.

The trio raced out into the open, eager to engage. Almost at once, they skidded to a halt, thrust back by the momentum of bodies. Living bodies, at least: Valkhounds, but pushed back at spearpoint. Most were snarling. Some were still tearing weapons from the hands of their bearers, or thrusting aside shields. A few were still scoring kills, and clearly, the battlefield behind them--what had been the market square of a city, by the looks of things--had gone mostly in their favor.

Human remains were strewn about, a field of gore so thick that the ground squelched underfoot, the thin layer of earth atop the black rock turned to scarlet mud. But while the monsters had slaughtered civilians, the soldiers holding the walls had turned. It left the walls largely undefended, but did they need to be defended? No; the enemy was now inside. There were fewer than a hundred men and women pressing the Valkhounds back, but the beasts were finding it surprisingly difficult to rend past the thick armor. And all it took was the lash of a blade, or a well-placed spear thrust, to send a Valkhound staggering back, choking up its own Oily blood.

The battlefield had a few of these monstrous corpses scattered among the men already.

The chokepoint ahead--a narrow gate between city districts--was being retaken by the men; the Valkhounds were being pushed back toward Gravedigger's location. He could join them and attempt to push forward, perhaps. Or offer his escape route; or something else entirely. Though it was likely hard to think straight, with the tantalizing scents of murder on the air.

@Gravedigger

All your dreams are down below

the gravedigger

Oh, the delicious smell of blood in the air was almost enough to send the Gravedigger charging right into battle. So many humans to crush beneath its claws, armor to break and rip open, for the tasty morsels clinging within their steel shells. But the thing that kept its reason in tact was the sight in front of it - not as and a whole lot of spears pointing and poking and spilling oily blood.

Gravedigger hadn't been made as a brute attack dog. There were plenty of Valkhounds that filled that role perfectly well. Yes, he had done part of his purpose already - they'd infiltrated the castle, they'd destroyed the forge, all thanks to his tunneling. But...would any of it be worth it if so many valkhounds died here and now, unable to fight another way, to die on this choked, ashen planet because their digger had thrown himself into bloodshed with the rest?

No. NO. It enjoyed the taste of blood as much as the next valkhound, but what it really craved was DESTRUCTION.

A VOLCANO DOES NOT HUNT OR TARGET THE INNOCENT, IT DESTROYS EVERYTHING IN ITS PATH!!!

The valkhound threw itself forward, indeed to join the valkhounds at the gate, but not to attempt to push its way forward towards the humans, but rather at the wall, clamping jaws and claws into the stone, acidic saliva pouring out of its mouth to tear open a hole in the wall. No more chokepoint - the valkhounds could rush through and taken the humans by force.

buried under broken bones

Gravedigger barged past the Valkhounds who were tumbling back, his bulk forging his path. When his jaws fixed around the stone of the wall--in one place, and then another, rending and tearing--the wall began to crumble. Metal struts along the frame of the gate sputtered and hissed, and began to glow, as his saliva sprayed with his snapping tears.

It began to bleed: a horrifying sight, rust-colored dissolving metal sludge sliding down the chiseled stone and smooth black steel like blood. The men behind the wall began to cry out in horror, unsure of what they were seeing--and when at last the rock began to tumble, a new gate tearing open in the inner wall of the city, the soldiers who'd been atop it were thrown down to their deaths.

"NOOOOOooooo-" One of them died loudly; the rest let out sharp cries cut short as they either impacted the earth, or were pounced upon by a Valkhound and torn to pieces an instant later.

The flood began to shift, the tide to turn, the bodies to flow back into the breach. Gravedigger's army began to cheer him, the combined voices a roar of bloodlust, a chorus on the stage of rising smoke and pooling blood.

@Gravedigger

All your dreams are down below

the gravedigger

The screams and cries of the humans was invigorating, and it dragged the Gravedigger forward - as soon as the wall was crumbling down, it was thrusting its way through with the other valkhounds. It knew it had a further job to do - there were more walls to tear down, more openings to make, but oh, LET IT KILL just ONE person!!

The haze of bloodlust overtook it for a moment as the wave began to break and the humans began to fall back. They looked so vulnerable, even behind their metal shells and their false talons, their flesh was so thin, so easily breakable, their bones like the twigs of trees. Gravedigger just wanted to feel it once before returning to its tunnels.

So it lumbered on into battle, choosing a human close by to throw itself at, lowering its head to slam armor-first into the poor creature, to throw it on the ground. It would make quick work of it once it was vulnerable - a slam into the dirt and a snap of its jaws around its head and it would feel that surge of endorphins. Blood on its tongue, in its throat, heating its belly like fire.

buried under broken bones

The roar of battle was a backdrop to the more personal scene that Gravedigger now orchestrated: a single death, life slipping--or torn--away beneath his massive claws.

There was a brief moment of eye contact: light brown eyes, wide and brimming with emotion. Gravedigger likely didn't care to pause, to analyze those feelings, but there was terror there. Horror, at the monsters' maliciously misshapen bodies, at Gravedigger's alien and predatory form. Defiance, a desire to defend her people. Rage, so light as to be drowning beneath the terror. Agony, as her ribs snapped beneath his lunge--and her single, choked cry of pain was all she managed. There were no last words: no rallying cry, no final clever rejoinder.

There was a brief acceptance, or maybe relief, as his jaws closed in. At least it would be over now.

Then the taste of crushed metal as her helmet was imploded. Blood and flesh and sweat pouring across his acidic tongue. Her body was engulfed by the blooded mud below, pressed in like some horrifying clay form by his sheer massive weight.

It was easy. It was easy to kill them, despite the armor, despite their numbers, despite the walls.

He tore them down: the armor, the people, the very walls themselves, and yes, he dug their graves. Witness this first true victim, still crushed and sinking into hers.

@Gravedigger

All your dreams are down below

the gravedigger

The human's blood was a drug and a toxin all at once, poisoning its mind towards further thoughts of violence, spurring its bloodlust and edging it into an uncontrollable rage. But it was not a rabid beast. It had been trained. It had been focused. And so in the back of its mind it knew it could not simply throw itself back into battle yet. It had a job to do. The outer walls still stood.

With a last stomp onto the now decapitated body of its victim, the Gravedigger looked towards where it knew the distant outer walls would be. There was a battle raging around it now, humans screaming in terror and valkhounds roaring with joy as blood and bones and spittle flew through the air. Going straight through was quite a stupid idea, so Gravedigger decided to take the longer way, around the edge of the fighting. It would have to shove its way out, though, and find the best way to the walls, the path of least resistance.

It took off through the swarm, head lowered to barrel its way through enemies, head bucking to kick away spears and swords that stabbed its way. It was not going to stopped on its way to the wall, no matter how hard the humans tried.

buried under broken bones

Gravedigger was not alone in his compulsion toward pure violence. The screams that rose around him now weren't human voices raised in horror, or fear: they were howls of delight, shrieks of indulgent rage, choking snarls of thrilled satisfaction.

The sounds of bloodlust began to drown out the cries of the damned.

They pressed on, to either side of him, pouring through the gap he'd opened and tearing into the men beyond. His way, to his left and his right, was clear. And anyone who stood before him--a swinging axe, a thrust of a blade... whether a few hit their mark, whether they granted him the molten blood flow that might later heal into the scars of brutal battle... they were soon tossed aside, leapt upon, torn apart.

The way forward was not clear, but by fang and claw, it would not be blocked. The wall lay ahead, through smoke and flowing blood.

The battle horns were blowing, but no one was left to answer their call.

@Gravedigger

All your dreams are down below

the gravedigger

With its path clear, the Gravedigger stormed towards the outer walls of the city, picking a spot seemingly at random that it hoped didn't lead to a sheer cliff or something, and could give the valkhounds on the outside something to scale, so they could get in.

And it threw itself upon those stones, jaws open and acid burning, claws bared and sinking right into their pitiful defenses. It hooked those black talons into cracks between the rocks, acid burning leverage so it could clamp its jaws into the stone and begin tearing it right out. It would take a bit of gnawing and clawing, glowing spittle flying from its mouth and sizzling against the stone, but eventually it began to give way under its attacks.

Just as the inner walls had collapsed, this one too began to break through, a gaping hole forming and the weight of the rest of it beginning to fall down in the wake of its loss of support.

It knew when to pull back, as soon as it felt everything begin to collapse, the Gravedigger pulled back, snarling with delight and waiting for the rocks to tumble, so it could observe the aftermath of its work.

buried under broken bones