Hungry Necromancer

I've never been the best swimmer, not even close to the worst either. Past and new life I've stood on the sidelines and watched others take a dive, not because I was afraid of drowning, no, anyone can kick their legs and flail their arms to keep afloat. But I stopped because I hate the feeling of water in my eyes.

It stings, it's unnatural, water in the eye on a constant. And I'm expected to use the same eyes, eyes going through a permanent hum of pain from the water, to navigate my way around the deep ends of the water.

I never spent more than a few seconds or if by miracle I spent a minute or two in the water. I have no experience with this and I'm not looking to get some. The stinging can't be helped, but in the water I found I can minimize how much it stings by peeling them open to have a look at where Jungle is headed every so often.

Anselm has been a joy though, the depths are set in an impermeable darkness but he's done us a service by turning himself into a torch with the glow of Frozia's power imbued in him.

The depth, illuminated by Anselm, is like any underwater pit you jump into because you have no caution. I'd sigh and shake my head but that too hurts underwater.

The depth has little to no movement in it aside from us, but Jungle was right, there is an underwater system here, large enough to dwarf the gaping hole with which we entered as we swam deeper into the depth.

It's another thing to be frightened about, even though I haven't glimpsed a single living thing aside from us, I'm still nervous that something will pop out of the unlit places, the places where Anselm's glow doesn't illuminate. 

No, this isn't nervousness. This is experience speaking. It's only a matter of time before something does that. In that vein I pull and mould my mana, getting ready to unleash a spell on whatever charges out of the darkness.

Gruesome, stinging moments pass and we're still swimming. My muscle begins to ache and cramp with each thrust and push that wads me through the dark waters. I begin to doubt Jungle knows where he's headed when I peek at spots of light ahead, a few at first and the closer we get the more appear.

By the time I can make out the lights as multi-coloured bulbs floating in the water something zips past Jungle, knocking him aside. Another zips towards Anselm but he's ready, freezing a portion of the water in front of him to form a solid shield that cracks upon impact with whatever heads the assault.

More and more of the things zip past us, soaring through the water, relentless in their attack. Behind Anselm I'm saved, I worry about Jungle but the bright sparks of fire and rapid bubbling of the water tells me he's holding his own.

A final impact lands on Anselm's shield and I haven't a moment to worry about Jungle as the white beings begin zipping toward me. Unable to react as needed, my hide is saved at the last moment by none other than Shaco, my familiar.

Slithering out of my shirt he expands rapidly and wraps around me, taking the brunt of the attacks and snapping back as he can while I ready my spells. Within a second I'm ready and Shaco unwraps so I can unleash the tendrils of wispy green necrotic mana, latching on whatever the things are.

The horde slows with our counterattack, no longer zipping towards us like artillery but still milling about and eating at us. Snakes. They're all medium sized white snakes with no bones whatsoever.

'Strange.'

Anselm lets himself be gathered, taking the hits and then trapping the lot of his attackers in a solid sphere of ice with him at the centre, turning intangible to set himself free.

Jungle has more trouble with the beasts, his spear not all that suited for underwater combat like this. In the spirit of camaraderie - and also my interests in killing this Beast Mother - I send out Shaco to aid him against his lot.

It takes a few more struggling moments but we weather the attack well, Anselm gifting the water several spheres of snakes, Jungle and I delivering sliced and diced pieces and Shaco mauling the most with his large fangs.

He does me proud at his transformed size, larger than an anaconda and frighteningly flexible with his attack. 

'At the start he never grew this big, how did he progress? What powers him?' 

Questions I wouldn't have bothered to ask before meeting the 'familiar' of the Goblin Shaman, the giant powered by a [Soul Gem]. As far as I know, Shaco doesn't draw on my personal mana unless I give him permission to do so, and when he does it's for spells and attacks, never to change his shape.

'When we get out of here I'll ask.'

Resolved to find more answers, I follow after Jungle and Anselm. Ahead of us, closer to the cluster of the multicoloured plant bulbs that illuminate this part of the water, there's an opening, a cave of sorts.

There's only more water to be seen as we duck under the ceiling of the entrance, but the further we go, the more of the bulbs there are and the higher the ceiling gets. Until finally, we're at the bottom of something of a well, the ceiling ascending past what my eyes can make out in the low light.

Pushing our heads above water we all gasp for a fresh pull of air, it's never felt so good to breathe. 

"Anselm." I start, but he nods, already floating into the dark open space above us to check what else there is to see.

In dead silence, Jungle and I watch as Anselm's blue light continues to rise and dim the farther away he gets until his light is no more than a sparkling dot in the darkness.

"How far does this go?" Jungle mutters, sharing a baffled look with me. 

We wait some moments longer and just as I begin to worry, Anselm's blue descends towards us, "Guys, there are a lot of tunnels, but this main one leads topside, to the Forest. The others I'm not sure but…"

"But?" Jungle demands.

A grim look on Anselm says, "I think there's a whole other world in there, its full of weird plants, glowing rocks and, well, a lot of weird large snake corpses. Jungle was right, this is where they live."