Great. Eldritch spit. That's what this water needed.

Nectar? Don't swallow it, part of him remembers, which since he absolutely was not planning on swallowing it mostly makes him involuntarily imagine how horrible drinking this would be.

A fragile wooden wall blocks passage leading to the warehouse. A trickling stream of raw Nectar flows down the slanted floor, under the wooden wall.

"There it is. We ready for what's next?"

Deep breath of -- nope nope nope absolutely zero deep breaths of resolve.

"As much as we can be."

Yeah. That. "Ready."

Time to pry open the false wall, then.

The room was once some kind of shrine or sanctuary, constructed of the same sturdy brown stones as the passage outside. The walls are adorned with flaking plaster painted with a stylized mural of the Knights of Malta battling the Ottoman fleet during the Great Siege.

The sunken floor is flooded knee deep in raw Nectar. A foul, frothy soup that overflows the room and goes flowing down towards the tunnel. Your feet squelch as you walk. It oozes around their thighs.

They’ve all seen a Major Mouth before, but nothing can prepare them for its appearance. It grows, like a living thing, out of the center of the arched ceiling, fleshy and unmistakably physical. It must be thirty feet wide. Its teeth are broken and yellow; its tongue flicks out like an enormous tentacle. It belches and spews Nectar forth.

Mixed in the smell of Nectar, they can smell something light and floral. Perfume?

He walks through the false wall and tries to take in a proper deep breath and instead chokes on it and then cannot, cannot, cannot stop choking, it feels like the entire world is that mouth and not even the fresh air brings any physical relief because his lungs are full of the smell of nectar, is this panic, he thinks he might be panicking--

Montgomery flicks her eyes up and down.

"Took you long enough."

"The roof collapsed. Twice."

"I suppose."

"You certainly look beat up. Not the shortest shortcut in the world."

After a minute he recovers and tries to remember what they're doing. He's with -- Zoe, right, right. He can go with Zoe.

Zoe puts a hand on Oswald's shoulder and guides him to the side of the room.

Montgomery looks dismissively at Oswald, crosses herself with holy water, and begins to chant.

"Ia, Yog-Sothoth! Ia, Shub-Niggurath! Ia, Gol-Goroth! Ia, Cthulhu! Ia, Dagon! Ia, Azathoth!"

Zoe stations herself and Oswald at the room's entrance, alert to anyone approaching.

Oswald presses a hand against his neck in an attempt to take any actions that relate to the horrible sensation in his throat and also the rest of him.

The Mouth seems to notice that someone is trying to banish it! It spits a mouthful of Nectar at Mordred.

Mordred doesn't manage to dodge being spat at but he does cover his face. He does not stop chanting.

He tastes something in his mouth. It is the sweetest and most delicious thing he has ever tasted. It's all over his hands but there's no rush of competence.

Not entirely sure how to guard against the Mouth itself, Zoe holds her shotgun at the ready and steels herself to shoot if anyone comes.

The Mouth does not approve of this!

Its tongue snakes out and it captures Montgomery in its grip.

He presses down hard enough on his throat to drown out some of the intense panic until suddenly it protests and he finds himself hyperventilating instead and -- nonononono he's supposed to be doing something he's supposed to be keeping things from happening, he rushes forward with intent to stop this and discovers that everything is a swirling kaleidoscope of danger--

Montgomery shoves at the tongue.

She shoves completely uselessly. It drags her closer and closer to it.

She determinedly keeps chanting.

He keeps chanting and grabs Montgomery's wrist and keeps chanting and--