Cog felt hot, viscous liquid dripping down his face, noting the dark substance's nature to be similar to paint; even its color was odd, being a flowing reddish rust color. He struggled to stand, getting helped up by a pair of horrifyingly powerful hands.
“Are you alright, Cog?” A familiar voice asked, but he was too woozy to make use of his memory. His thoughts were foggy as ever, though he was in too much pain for mental processing and far too exhausted physically to struggle free; after a few seconds, he didn’t really bother with thinking at all, let alone concocting a plan. He stood, swaying from side to side, before he saw a gloved hand filled with a fire engine red, mushy concoction shoved into his face and mouth. The sharp, bitter smell woke him from his pained daze, and the cuts on his face almost immediately went from painful to itching slightly - nowhere near a flawless recovery, but far more manageable than moments earlier.
“Cog?” The voice asked again, and this time, he recognized it; Xandir. Cog noted that the red goop seemed to mildly aid his brain functionality. Somehow.
“Y-yeah?” Cog muttered, rubbing his eyes the best he could with his still recovering limb.
“We must get you back to the hospital. You’re badly hurt. We’re also dealing with the sort of monster we wouldn't want a newcomer challenging; it’s a-”
Before Xandir could get another word out, Cog was startled by a massive, silver-blue form blurring past him. It collided with Xandir, shunting the now clashing pair a few dozen meters back. Cog’s once lazy attentiveness was rapidly being replaced by a prominent alert in his instinctual brain; his mind forced his body to wake up with a burst of adrenaline and, in turn, his brain honed in on the enemy.
It was a disturbingly large beast; despite it not stopping, Cog would guess it to be around eight feet tall and at least sixteen to eighteen feet long. It seemed to have some sort of antlers, though he couldn’t be sure until it was finally held in place by Xandir. Once the lanky man was able to stop the beast by using his arms and hands as a sort of makeshift set of jaws to hold its own off, Cog could definitively see a pair of sharp, jagged horns jutted from its head. A flash of movement in front of Cog's face revealed an imp-like tail that cracked like a whip, the end of it sporting what looked to be a singular, oversized razor blade slicing through the air.
He avoided the first strike, narrowly leaning back in time. The second strike taught him a valuable lesson in its potency, however; on contact, it sent him careening away from the beast and Xandir.
As Cog regained his senses, he looked for the void person. When he realized he couldn’t see the shadow man, he blinked and looked around once more. Despite Cog still being within what should be a sight-line of Xandir, the pech's new acquaintance was suddenly gone in a great time of crisis; while his logical brain registered him as some form of roguish or stealth class, his emotional brain screamed betrayal of the highest order.
Oddly enough, not even the massive beast was around; despite this, the primal portion of his brain did not rest. Instead, it screamed 'Danger' with ever-increasing fervor.
That's when he saw, for the shortest instant, a second silhouette. It was smaller than the previous one - it could only be four feet tall at most - but its shape was uncannily similiar.
Cog sprang into action as the new beast’s tail flicked at him; or, at the very least, he tried to. He attempted to catch the whipping appendage in his massive jaws on the beast’s first attack, but missed and narrowly avoided the subsequent swing. With the second blow, he went for another crunch, but couldn't close his mouth fast enough and was instead lashed for his trouble. Cog was sent sprawling at least a half dozen meters away. He groaned in pain before eyeing the beast, whose erratic movements were nearly unreadable to him.
He felt a frustration building inside of him that he hadn't experienced since he was a teenager, burning its way past his growing headache.
He took another breath before shakily standing up; it seemed the beast was more focused on the suddenly absent ally of Cog than on the pech himself. It stayed a tentative distance away, scouring the area for any trace of the more powerful combatant, yet still used its long tail to make lashing attacks at Cog. He had realized by that point that biting it wouldn’t work, nor would trying to evade its lightning-fast attacks. He knew even attempting to fight it was dumb, possibly suicidal. He felt a familiar frustration begin to fester once more upon considering withdrawal. He shook the thought of retreat firmly out of his mind. The perceptive fog he still felt hindered his senses, but he didn't care.
One way or another, he was going to land at least one effective hit on this... impudent… thing.
Cog exploded forward with a roar, making use of his legs to the best of his abilities. He hadn’t fully tested the physical capabilities of his new body, and despite knowing hip-checking something approximating a living, breathing motorcycle was far from the best approach to take with his scrawny build, he was driven to get the thing off-balance. He felt his heaving breaths shake his rib cage, his resolve slowly building.
Despite his burst of willpower, the fact remained that his basic perception simply wasn’t enough to read the creature's approach. Upon realizing this, he tried to use various aspects of the system, but nothing within it seemed to work in any way he could effectively use; the time taken for the attempt cost him another two ferocious hits from the beast's whip-like tail, one to the back of the head and the other to his knees. Fortunately, out of reflex or instinct, he bent his knees with the strike to avoid critical damage, but the blow still sent him stumbling - what's worse, he could feel a bruise forming already.
He frantically looked about as he tried to read the path of the creature, but even that was a waste of time. All it earned Cog was another painful thwack across his spine. The thing was simply too fast. He didn't have enough time to track its movements, and couldn't plan a course of action. No help from above this time, either, as the sky was clear. He felt his mind begin to tick over, streams of thoughts becoming loops as he took another blow, then another. He knew he had to act, he had to act. He-
Now.
The thought wasn't in his own voice, and in fact didn't seem like a 'voice' at all; despite this, the meaning behind the errant presence was clear. In the instant it took to overthink a single word, Cog took yet another blow, the end of the creature's tail piercing his skin this time. He hissed in pain, nearly whipping around to look for it, but his body... didn't want to move? Not as though it was paralyzed, but as though he didn't truly want it to follow his directions.
If you're a god, Cog thought, then you've got horrific timing.
For a moment, there was no response. This time, the pause cost him another pair of lashings. The tail hit his shoulder and funny bone.
Then, his eyes widened as he heard a loud popping sound accompany a third strike.
His good arm went limp.
“Fucking hell,” Cog hissed, feeling his numb limb dangle uselessly. He tested his still-healing arm; it seemed sturdy, though he could tell overtaxing it wouldn’t be the best idea. He took a deep breath, feeling a secondary adrenaline rush begin to pump itself through his body. Ignoring the rippling pain the best he could, he took stock between ducks and dodges. Despite learning the timing of the creature, his body still didn't feel capable of moving fast enough to dodge many, if any, of the attacks.
Now.
Cog felt it in his head, his gut and chest - an affirmation to strike. He hesitated for a split second, taking stock of his body in an attempt to dissect the mental command. Now... Now what? Now strike? Now dodge?
Just as the tail sliced a gash in his temple, Cog noticed something he hadn't realized before - his teeth had clenched at the command from his mind. He rolled his jaw around, opening and closing it a few times. His fangs were too large to puncture the wiry tail of the thing, and he had already failed to-
Now.
Cog, throwing his thought process away this time, yanked his jaw open with enough force to pop it, then immediately slammed it shut again. He felt something smash into the skin of his cheeks, then a rubbery texture against his teeth as fluid sprayed around his open mouth. A gut-wrenching, nearly human scream emerged from the lips of the thing as it was caught off-guard, savagely tugging at its tail before lunging at Cog.
The pech, out of reflex, held his hands in front of himself to guard his face, teeth clenching more to keep his enemy at as much of a disadvantage as possible - it felt as though he were playing tug of war against a quarterback with only his mouth. He yelled in surprise as piercing fangs dug into his outstretched hand, and he quickly made a fist to provide difficulty to the beast. As it turned out, this worked in both sides' favor as his hand became stuck in its maw. While the beast could not bite or whip with its tail and was highly limited in mobility, Cog was in the same position as it - he couldn't move for a better angle, nor could he use his most potent weapons, his hands and mouth.
Finally able to get a good look at the beast, Cog felt an involuntary shudder go through him. The thing's coat was an ominous blue-grey, much akin to heavy storm clouds. Its head did, in fact, sport a pair of antlers that seemed too small for its body, and its eyes - all four of them - were glaring daggers at the pech. Their oily black sclera and navy blue irises didn't help in easing his tension, nor did the egregious arch of its back. What Cog initially wrote off as a hump was more akin to a hunchback, its malnourished body letting its spine poke past its protruding arch. The thing's tail seemed to sprout from a clump of plumage on its rear, and its abnormally long legs were bent to add force to its escape attempt. Powerful paws sported razor-sharp claws at their ends, digging mightily into the ground but finding no good purchase. As it let out another howl, its maw opened wider than Cog had imagined possible - the only thing he saw that could match it was a picture of a Tasmanian tiger he'd seen years back. Before he could take advantage of the action, it somehow gripped his hand tightly with just its gums, as though they had their own sets of muscles. Perhaps the most disturbing part of it was the seemingly random protrusions of bone emerging from its head and back, lumps and jagged spikes haphazardly spread across its figure.
They circled one another, both making strained noises as they tugged at whatever they'd gripped onto. Ultimately, even if the canine let him go, he would get an advantage on it, and vice versa. They were at a stalemate, and both parties understood this; however, the pech had a single advantage over the hound.
Cog knew what he had to do. He just really, really didn't want to.
After swallowing his pride, he steeled his resolve. He began to grind his teeth, feeling a crunching and cracking as rubbery skin tore and flesh ripped. His maw was filled with liquid, and he had to puff out his cheeks to avoid swallowing any, but his actions clearly had an effect on the beast before him. It began howling in agony, more ferociously yanking on its tail in an attempt to escape. It had nearly stopped its grip on his fist, which allowed him to yank his arm out and kick it in the jaw. In the moments it was discombobulated, Cog took full advantage, using his arm to tug at the thin appendage. It felt horrible against his teeth and taste buds, and the smell of the fluid was like petrolium and sewage - even still, he continued to tug, yank and cut at the tail, which was proving to be far more resilient than Cog had thought before.
Finally, just as the thing sank its teeth into his good arm, Cog ripped the tail from the beast, spitting a half-stripped column of spine and a mouthful of foul, brown-orange liquid from his mouth.
Its eyes widened, pupils constricting as it stared at its shredded limb. It let out a hissing howl before beginning to retch, Cog joining it in an attempt to get the last of what he could only assume was its blood out of his mouth. When he saw what the other portion of the tail looked like - spewing ichor and stripped to the bone like a wire - Cog truly did vomit. When he looked back up, the thing had begun to recollect itself. It tried to dash about, but clearly, its tail was used for balance; it stumbled and fell on its side for a moment before scrambling to its feet and trying again.
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As he stood back up, Cog wiped his mouth and spat a few times, getting the horrid combination of tastes fully off his tongue. The hound was starting to make headway in rebalancing itself with what had to be a third of its tail remaining, but it was now slow enough for Cog to track with his own eyes. Not easily, but the fact he could see it moving at all was a vast improvement. Considering it didn't seem interested in attacking him right away, the pech took the brief reprieve to glance around the environment.
They were on a short plateau of grass and stone; weeds and flowers burst from sediments long since cracked apart, and the turf seemed to grow over the rock beneath. He silently wondered how in the world they could have gotten onto a plateau with a vehicle using tank treads.
Then, his gaze fell on the nearby Clanker, and he nearly vomited again.
All the oddly disgusting sounds, the violent bumps, the animal calls - it all made sense.
A veritable hill of bodies was crushed into paste, clumps of fur and bone and meaty organs spread across the earth and Clanker alike, tread marks ripping the skin apart on several of the corpses. The mound of bodies spilled onto the plateau from the ground below.
Every single one had the same imp-like tails and silver-blue fur, and each was far too mangled to see what the things looked like before.
Cog, for the first time since arriving in the world, held back his vomit as he knelt down by a verdant crack in the stone. Flashing glances at the struggling beast not ten meters in front of him, he ripped the notable weed from the gap, tossed it to the side, and gripped the stone from within the fracture. When he tugged upwards and it inevitably did not yield, he grunted in annoyance and looked at his fingers. His numb arm still worked, but didn’t feel like it could offer very much in terms of strength. His healing arm felt stronger than before, but he could tell it couldn’t take much abuse without tearing itself apart - not yet, at least. A single glance at the beast revealed its attempts at balance were relatively progressive, but it was obvious that it still needed more time.
Instead of trying to jump in, and after a very short debate with himself, he carved a dish-sized circle into the stone before him. He used his fingers to jab and slash into the rock, cutting through it like butter. He hefted, putting in far more effort than before and using his numb limb, and felt a shifting in both of his arms. He was about to stop out of fear of further injuring himself, but just before he could withdraw, the stone slab popped out with a sound akin to a grindstone. The two-inch-thick slab flew a few feet into the air, and he awkwardly caught it before it could be broken apart on the ground. He glanced back at the creature, which was now moving in a blur of motion around him in consistent bursts. Its tail was finally a neutralized threat, and the ranged assault on Cog was over for the time being. For a moment, he once more considered running, his logical brain finally overpowering his pride. This idea was quickly shot down as, with even a single step backwards, its motions grew a few feet closer.
He eyed the areas it was dashing along, trying to make sense of its movement patterns - a far easier task now that he could actually see it. He waited until the monster had moved just a bit too far away from him in its realignment. Then, Cog took a gamble.
He launched the rough stone disc like a frisbee where he assumed the thing would move next.
With a crunch and a howl, the creature was sent stumbling by the rocky projectile, which embedded itself halfway into its flank. The wolf-like monster slid a handful of meters before it finally stopped, and Cog took a moment to ogle at his body's raw strength, even in its injured state.
The creature let out a screech that made him think of a hissing snake getting punched in the throat. Cog took a breath, memorizing the thing’s appearance; it writhed on the ground, whimpering and hissing with a gaping wound on its side. The stone disc was lodged in tightly, spurts of the viscous, brown-orange fluid spraying out when it moved certain ways.
He wanted to feel happy about doing some damage to a genuine monster, but really only felt regret. A deep resentment filled his mind, which warred with his survival instinct.
His earlier nightmare flashed in his mind, but he shoved the bloody spectacle aside, once more having to hold back bile.
Then, he realized a change both unexpected and unwelcome.
Someone… No, something was pushing back.
Cog gritted his teeth, sudden surprise immediately shifting to anger. He hated not being able to get rid of thoughts on his own, so he had spent considerable time and effort learning how to suppress them himself. Whatever this entity was, be it god or otherwise, it was attempting to press the very thoughts Cog wanted to ignore into the forefront of his mind. He felt another, more potent pulse of adrenaline burst through his body, then noticed something else accompanying it. Cog narrowed his eyes at the feeling, allowing his gaze to falter as he tried to steady himself.
That was the precise moment that the monster had been waiting for, and it lunged at Cog.
Narrowly stepping out of the way, the pech used the thing's own momentum against it - he pushed it further ahead with a swift kick, and it was sent sprawling with a whimper.
Realizing he needed to be armed better than he was and knowing how to do it, Cog proceeded to use his feet to carve a rough parallelogram - a makeshift blade - into the stone beneath him. He was unsure if the claws on his feet would be able to carve stone like his hands; fortunately, though they weren't quite as effective, they still got the job done.
Once the thing broke into a sprint towards him, Cog held the improvised weapon aloft, then brought the stone down on the charging monster.
Unfortunately for Cog, one factor was working against him.
His body, though quite dense, was unexpectedly light when compared to the monster's own.
The tackle it hit him with not only drove the blade far into its flesh, but sent the two careening across the plateau's surface.
Cog painfully twisted his torso as his arms bent in ways any other creature would cringe at, body practically ragdolling with the centrifugal force. His foot caught the thing's lower jaw in the process, which caused its mouth to hook onto Cog's leg as the pair were sent from a straight motion into a wild tumble. They both took a moment to regain their senses after stopping mere feet from the ledge, Cog's human mind screaming that his leg had to be fully broken. Fortunately, his situation helped to subdue that instinct, though bending a leg that far in such a weird angle would still take quite a bit of getting used to.
When he looked up, he noticed the beast within a couple of feet of him, head facing the opposite direction of his position. He raised his arm, then harshly slammed a fist against the stone disc impaled in its hide. The monster let out a wailing cry, flailing on the ground, and the following, savage slash from Cog's claws landed right in the beast’s front paw. Once more screeching, it tried to scramble to its feet, but tripped over itself, landing hard on top of Cog. A slight bending and crackly, popping sound emanating from his chest caused panic to stir in the pech's gut.
A fervor, previously unknown, burned its way into his mind. He recalled the revelry and ferocious desperation he’d released in the nightmares, and felt the choice rear its head again. For a moment, he sat, fully still; this gave the monster time to buck him with its rear legs in its attempts to stand, the impact landing directly on his loose ribs. He felt something in his chest fully snap before letting out his own scream of pain. The monster used its back legs to further kick at the wounded goblinoid, but found itself unable to attack freely anymore. It let out a dismayed call, not unlike what he'd imagine a baying wolf choking on gravel would sound like, as it realized Cog was squeezing its hind feet in a death grip.
The hand that held them, half numb but still mostly strong, squeezed past the point of severing tendons and shattering bone. With his other hand, Cog slashed all along the underbelly of the monster, a viscous brown-orange fluid and eerily blue organs pouring from wide gouges. Despite being relatively immobile and severely wounded, the thing simply didn't give up its assault; Cog was beginning to tread the ragged edge, unable to fulfill much more than short bursts of speed and strength against the writhing beast. Despite this, feeling the give of its resilient body filled him with a primal sense of satiation.
Between Cog's attempts to gut the creature, it bit at him with jaws clacking audibly. Its internals had to have nearly fully spilled out by then, but it still kept trying to fight back. This close, Cog could even see the previous intelligence in it's eyes replaced with pure, feral bloodlust. Having expended more energy than he should have, he had to stop for a slight reprieve. The beast unleashed a burst of unexpected strength in its back legs within that moment, prying off Cog before it clamped down on his worse arm. It writhed and twisted its neck, trying to wrench the limb free, succeeding in partially tearing the still healing injury open.
Cog cried out in pain, reflexively and rapidly jamming his free hand's claws into the thing's head. The monster let out more whimpers and hisses through its clenched teeth, but refused to release its death grip. Again and again, dangerously sharp fingers plunged themselves deep into the monster’s skull, scrambling its senses and causing an ever-worsening concussion. Even still, it kept slowly but surely tearing away at the wound, unable to use its failing paws but not needing more than its viciously sharp teeth.
As more muscle was torn and more bone was chipped, the monstrosity before him gradually began to wear down. Its tugs were weaker, though the more it tore, the less it needed to try. While it was slowing down, however, Cog was entering a frenzy. He began frantically punching the thing's now visible skull, his own sharp knuckles managing to fracture - and eventually shatter - portions of it. As more chips of bone flew through the air, Cog's ferocity sped up his attacks.
Finally, with one of countless jabs, his hand smashed into something soft. A darker fluid, this one closer to the color of standard leather, sprayed out like water from a garden hose. He jabbed his hand into it a few more times to be safe until, blessedly, the beast went limp. Its jaws were still gripping Cog’s limb, but the pech took a long moment to catch his breath before using his fluid-lined arm to pry the beast’s jaws open and retract his nearly severed limb. It felt entirely unusable, no sense but pain left in the appendage; while it wasn't as torn free as with the fialtog, it was still easily two thirds of the way free of his torso. He cursed a string of expletives under his breath, then held the thing’s head up and slashed its neck a few times with deep, penetrating strokes. More fluid gushed out quickly, and he dropped the stone dagger to the ground.
Cog was startled by a window suddenly popping up in front of his eyes.
[You have slain 1 {Cacklewreath}! Would you like to loot {Cacklewreath}?
>Y/N]
Cog panted heavily, breath rapidly catching as though he'd been crying. He threw the thing's corpse to the side for some personal space. He mentally accepted, letting himself fall on his back heavily.
[Congratulations! You have slain 1 {Cacklewreath} [OT]! You have gained the following loot:
+1 YD (Enemy 1 threshold above you, +12 Cacklewreath Claws (Uncommon, Mediocre quality) +3 Cacklewreath Tooth (Rare, Average Quality) +1 Cacklewreath Tailtip (Epic, High Quality) +6 OD +12 RD] After he closed the window, his eyebrows raised slightly at a second follow-up window. [Your Racial Trait {AVARICE} has activated! You have looted the following additional items: +1 OD +3 RD +1 Earth Capsule +1 Uncommon Treasure] Unable to make any remark in response, Cog simply wheezed. His mind refused to work for the better part of a minute, just trying to get his faculties back under control. After a few more moments, Xandir suddenly stood over him with a sympathetic gaze. “My first one was rough, too,” he said, extending a hand. Cog grasped it as hard as he could, letting himself be pulled to his feet only to stumble back onto his rear a few seconds later. Xandir lightly sighed as he scooped Cog up. “You did a fantastic job with your second monster,” Xandir said, glancing back at the ravaged creature behind him. He noticed the orange steam slowly rising from the creature, dissipating into the ambient Chroma, and nodded. He took out a slightly glowing roll of what looked like linen bandage, wrapping Cog’s arms and shoulders in it before applying some kind of tape. Xandir nodded to himself, and Cog chuckled weakly. "That's for my arm?" he muttered, smirking. "In case it got fucked again?" "Yeah," Xandir said, eyes returning the mirth. "I explicitly requested a full roll. It re-applies the method used on your arm in an identical manner." There was a moment of quiet as Cog was carried along, hollowly laughing. The moment was broken only by Xandir's quiet voice. “I sincerely apologize that I had you fight that cacklewreath all on your lonesome, but you truly did do an outstanding job. I'm so relieved you're still alive, by the by..." He awkwardly scratched his neck with one hand, the other holding Cog's now unconscious body like a cat. "Let’s go repair the Clanker. We'll have to cleanse it at the garage later.” After hitting 'Accept' on his prompts, Xandir finally got the bloodied pech back to the Clanker, which was on its side. The air filled with colored mist; dozens upon dozens of cacklewreath bodies that had, moments ago, littered the ground around the plateau had simultaneously begun to dissolve. Blue steam slowly floated from their corpses into the open air, matching the azure sky in tone.