The Slizzlesplotch

In a deep, brooding darkness, the Slizzlesplotch tears itself into our plane of existence.  This foul creature, for one could not call it a beast or anything of this natural world, followed the sounds of suffering and the smell of death and hungered for its source.  All it knew was the all-consuming hunger.  Though shrouded in black shadow, it was aware and could sense its prey lurking nearby.  It profusely salivated, or whatever its unnatural equivalent would be, in anticipation of the kill.

Outside the foreboding cave, five young men sat around an inviting campfire watching their noontime meal of venison roasting in the embers.  They were Paul, Alto, Nick, Tommy, and Stephen; a group of bright-eyed hopefuls learning their place in the world.  They were blissfully unaware of the encroaching evil.  It traveled soundlessly through the gloom for it had no feet to scuffle on the ground or with which to kick up rocks; it simply existed through the pitch darkness.

Soon it could see them - no, not see them, for it had no eyes, but feel them.  Its ravenous hunger could not be contained; it must be satiated.  It would spew a vile, unholy acid that would boil their flesh from the bones.  It would drink deeply from their souls as their cries quickly strangled into gurgles from their ravaged vocal cords.  Excitement enthralled the demon, and it lurched forward with stunning speed only to find itself slam against an invisible force barring it from passing through the cave's mouth.  It screeched in fury and reared itself back with all of its strength.  The lads were suddenly alert, for they were not simple travelers but great guardians of this place.  They were sworn to protect the sacred lands of Rogin from all evil that forced itself through this ancient pit of blasphemous darkness.

The warning was barely enough, for the men, despite their litheness, only just managed to leap out of the way as the Slizzlesplotch's amorphous shape came hurdling through the barrier. In its rage and hysteric exuberance it leaped too fiercely and too far and came crashing into the serene waters of Lake Liteot waiting below.  It was defeated, for it could not hold itself together in the holy waters as bits of it globular shape sank to the bottom and floated at the top.  The warriors stood at ready and reached towards the heavens, uttering the sacred words of banishment.  Angelic hands reached from the sky and pointed to the lake as its waters began to swirl and a great vortex banished the eldritch creature into the nether.  The world of Rogin was safe once more.