Chapter 44

The first sign that things were about to get complicated was movement around the edge of the clearing. Here and there small clumps of creatures had gathered, Boarfiends and Serpanthers, smaller versions of the Guardian called ‘Ursupines’, gathering together into small, impatient knots of movement. They didn’t move to attack, at first, instead simply watching the battle from a distance and hissing at anyone who came too close.

While we probably should’ve dealt with them as they appeared, the Guardian itself was enough of an enemy to keep us occupied, and the fact that they didn’t immediately attack was a relief more than a concern. Its’ movements were fast but predictable, and once we were spread out enough to force it to split its’ attacks, we felt rather safe fighting it, surprised that it had managed to slay so many before our arrival. Cenna had surprisingly been the most effective, weaving in and out amongst its legs and striking at its’ belly and throat, the poison on her daggers slowly adding up as the fight dragged out.

When we’d done a pretty serious amount of harm to the Ursupine Guardian, however, it reared up and howled, slamming down its’ paws, the impact enough to kick up a wall of blood and mud that shoved back everyone close to it. When the air cleared, it had hunched into a ball, vulnerable undersides protected by a shell of spines, no longer resting flat, but now sticking out at every angle, bristling like the spears of a phalanx. We didn’t have more than a moment to consider that before the edge of the forest exploded into motion, dozens of the beasts leaping forward to attack at once. The Boarfiends struck first, their reckless charge trampling over the tattered wasteland, throwing dirt into the air behind them in fountains. Those closest to the edges – mages and archers, mainly – were forced to contend with their attacks, retreating toward the scattered melee fighters in the middle. The Serpanthers were close behind, their movements erratic and swift, striking anywhere the Boarfiends met resistance, their lightning-quick attacks distracting and overwhelming. Behind them, the Ursupines rattled their spines, launching the occasional volley of quills on a ballistic arc toward those huddling behind the new front line.

I didn’t retreat even a step, instead turning to face the oncoming rush of Boarfiends and blowing away the first two with firebolts, stopping the third’s charge with a flame-wreathed punch to the snout, slamming it into the dirt with enough force to flip it over and slide past me. The Serpanthers moving in their support lunged, one from my right and the other from my left, attempting to pincer me between them. I spun out of the way of a snarling Boarfiend, narrowly dodging the tusks, and lunged closer to the Serpanther on my left, using a firebolt to arrest its’ lunge with a blast to the chest, and taking the extra space to avoid the others’ leap, punishing it with a pair of short-range blasts of flame. I barely threw up a flaming shield in time to absorb a hail of quills before having to address another Boarfiend, tusks tearing across my calf like hot razors. Before I could become overwhelmed, I channeled a brief surge of energy outward, letting it pour, undirected, from me. The flaming nova blew away the creatures nearest me, and incinerated another hail of quills, buying me enough room to address my attackers in detail; I was launching firebolts as quickly as I could conjure them, filling the air around me with dart-like bolts of flame, hammering down the nearest enemies and charging through the gap, slamming a flame-wreathed fist into one of the Ursupines’ broad head, sending it careening back into the forest.

Blocking the charge had not only bought myself some breathing room, but provided a solid wall for the others to put their ‘back’ against, the melee line forming a defensive wedge behind me while the concentrated casters and archers cut down the beasts from relative safety.

“The Guardian!” One of the archers called, his tone tinged with despair, as he pointed toward the huddled mass of the Guardian at the center of the clearing. Even with my attention drawn to it, it still took me a moment to realize what the archer had seen; blood no longer trickled from its’ wounds, clearly healing itself in its' defensive posture. “Damnit,” I snarled back, and began to run toward it, weaving between the others. If they couldn’t handle the beasts now, they wouldn’t be of much help against the Guardian, either. I pulled the oft-neglected wand from my sash, sliding it into my left hand while taking my staff in my right. I held the pair like the wand was the slow-burning fuse and the staff’s head was a cannon; I touched them together, held it for a moment, and released a torrent of flames from the wand. Under the influence of the staff’s brazier-like head, the cone of flame it launched was nearly thirty feet long, spraying an immense area with roiling flames that licked and lashed at the spear-like quills, burning them down to stumps on the patch of side directly in front of me; the ones around were less effected, the fur beneath still beginning to burn, but the quills themselves did not immediately begin to melt like those closest had.

I drew the two implements apart, and pointed the staff toward the gap I’d created, pressing my power into the head and my intent into the body. The burning brazier at the tip of the staff heated, red spilling into blue, and the flames I released were tightly controlled; a laser of heat that burned deeply into the hide, charring flesh, and igniting fur in an instant. After only a second or so, the Ursupine Guardian unrolled itself from its’ defensive ball, and roared with pain and rage, shaking itself out to its’ full size once more. The few beasts in the clearing alive retreated to the fringes once more to join those waiting without, gathering their strength for the next time the Ursupine Guardian summoned them to attack. I pre-empted a few by scattering fireballs across the edge of the forest, blowing up and igniting entire patches of trees and the creatures huddling in them, scattering the largest concentrations of enemies I could find.

The other fighters re-engaged the Ursupine Guardian, returning to the previous technique of striking at its’ stomach and chest, peppering its’ sides with powerful ranged weapons and magic attacks. I could see the battle wearing on it again, massively bleeding wounds staggering it, slowing its’ attacks and movements. I could tell the time was getting close for it to trigger the beast attacks again, the others already concentrating to prepare to defend from the outside of the ring.

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This time, when the beast reared up to make another slamming attack, its’ movement was intercepted. The enormous roar turned into a throaty cough as Marcus struck like a lightning bolt, his hammer catching the Guardian at the shoulder, driving the air from its’ lungs to strangle the cry to attack, the slam attack of its’ paws diverted into a drunken stumble. It slapped a paw out at him where he stood upon the edge of a shattered trunk, but he simply sidestepped the attack and rammed the paw down onto the trunk like a thick, blunt spike, driving foot-long splinters into its’ paw. This time, its’ roar was one of maddened rage, lunging forward to bite down onto his breastplate. He stepped into the attack, jamming the haft of his hammer into its’ mouth to block is’ bite. One hand yanked the haft forward, drawing the beast fractionally closer to land an enormous punch directly onto its’ muzzle. I could hear teeth crack under the impact, and Marcus yanked the haft free, dropping the head to build momentum into a wild, one-handed swing that nonetheless cracked bone where it impacted. Both reeling from the unbalancing force of the hit, Marcus was entirely unprepared for the broad-pawed swipe that followed, striking him hard enough to dent the enormous bulwark of his breastplate.

The opening wasn’t huge, but it was enough; the assembled creatures milled around the edges of the clearing, clearly wanting to intervene, but unable to fight whatever compulsion had drawn them in to wait.

This time, when the Guardian roared, I was ready for them. Those at the edge closest to me had already been worn down by my repeated fireballs, explosions and flames turning the edge of the forest into a different kind of wasteland. I showered the edge of the forest with burning attacks, slowing and dispersing the edge of the wave that came from behind us, setting the fallen trees and crushed bushes ablaze into a kind of barrier behind us, giving the wedge of warriors a defensive wall to hold against as I turned my attention to the Ursupine at the center, charging up close to it. Marcus was attempting to use his hammer to clear the quills away, but they were too flexible to snap, their spear-like length foiling his attacks. He finally slammed the hammer’s head down into the mud, and stepped forward, grabbing onto one of the quills and simply ripping it free with a surge of strength. He slammed it into the ground point-first and grabbed another, tearing them loose and planting them with workmanlike efficiency. I came up next to him and began scouring the hide with flames, burning away more quills around that, freeing up space for him to work. He twisted away as one of the defensive barbs found a gap in his armor, yanking it out and throwing it aside like a javelin toward one of the Boarfiends that had come too close. Some quills he ripped out whole, others he snapped in half, ripping his way closer through the phalanx of quills until he could reach the flesh of the beast itself.

The Guardian pulled itself back to its’ feet, reluctant to let the hammer-man too close to its’ unprotected side. The beasts in the clearing retreated, leaving behind the wedge of fighters, worn and harried, that had stood against it. Only Marcus and I stood within melee range of the creature, and it swiped at Marcus first. Its’ massive paw was met with a swing of the hammer, parrying the strike aside. A follow-up jab with the hilt drew a grunt of pain from it, and I deflected its’ attempt to bite with a cone of flame toward its’ head.

“Keep it blinded,” Marcus snarled to me, something in his tone lending it an inhuman growl. “I have a plan.”

I didn’t question him, spattering attacks against its’ face and eyes, trying to keep it off-balance; its’ muzzle was marked with small burns, though the fur refused to catch for more than a moment. Marcus twisted and struck, striking at its’ arms and paws in a relentless barrage, trying to keep its’ attention on him. He stepped backward, into the fence-like field of quills, and took an immense strike to his cuirass, staggering backward while his armor rung like a bell.

The beast reared up to once more slam down and call for its’ brethren, and Marcus shouted, “Get back!” He lunged forward, and slammed the head of his hammer into its’ back knee, causing it to lurch forward drunkenly, the beginnings of the roar turning into a groan of pain. It fell forward, and its’ front paws slammed down onto the short, jagged fields of broken quills that he had torn out, the spear-like tips jutting up through the Ursupine’s broad paws. I could see the field of quills pointed upward into a broad arrowhead, right toward the Guardian’s chest, but Marcus was nowhere to be seen; I hadn’t seen him escape out from under the other side of the falling beast, all too certain what would happen to someone trapped underneath that kind of weight.

Instead, I leapt forward and carefully slid between the barbs, using them to pull myself upward like very dangerous bamboo scaffolding. I got up onto its’ shoulder, and it swivelled its’ head back to bite at me, paws rooted in place where the quills pierced them through. With its’ head lifted, it was in the perfect position for my counterattack.

I jumped up, augmenting my strength and speed with [The Fire Within] , and poured as much energy as I could muster into a flame-wreathed fist, drenching my hand in flames so thick it looked like molten lava, droplets of condensed energy spilling outward to sizzle on fur and flesh underfoot. I dropped down, delivering an enormous descending punch into its’ muzzle, driving its’ head and chest downward – onto the field of spikes Marcus had laid, their purpose now stunningly clear as they tore into flesh, the Guardian’s own immense weight working against it to drive the long, barbed quills deep into its’ body. Prodigious amounts of blood spilled from its’ mouth as its’ last roar was drowned, nothing more than a wrenching gurgle as it collapsed fully to the ground.