Corvayne's world had been trimmed down to the space under a stone bench. He was thankful that he had found a spot to hide at all, as laying under the stone slab was the first moment since his fight with the undead guards went wrong where he could actually observe and plan. He could see that huge undead dragon had started to wander away from the house it had been trashing. Most of the plaza on this side was a wreck and now he was faced with either trying to hobble around more then half the unexplored and hostile city on a broken leg, or trying to climb over a shattered wall with only three limbs and a dragon listening for him. He could just hide until his friends showed up and then team up to fight a building destroying monster, which would put their lives on the line for his overconfidence. He knew Grunt was strong but the man didn't have tools for fighting a dragon unless there was a bazooka in that basket of baseball bats.
He also thought of how he had told Hari that sometimes you just hit bad luck. He was proving himself wrong by making his own terrible luck. Hiding like a rat, hot, sweaty, huffing air reeking of ash, and with eye-watering pain lancing through his leg... with all that Corvayne still was the most upset at someone getting the jump on him.
He watched the huge dragon zombie, now covered in dust, pad it's way over the bench again while thankfully neither stepping on him nor bothering to look under the bench. The huge beast then tail whipped a section of building, and moved to the less destroyed section of homes further from where he had come from. He was pretty sure the dragon was trying to look into the houses to spot him. If he did nothing, it would eventually look under the bench. Or his friends would show up and get crushed and stomped to death. No, he couldn't sit still: he had to act. Corvayne had to fix his leg.
Seeing the dragon stick it's head through a wall, Corvayne rolled out from under the bench and made his move to the stone railing between the upper street and lower level. The fires he had started earlier were dying down to embers, but there was enough fire that he could see the dark form of the monster considering a building it had just stuck it's head into, then turning and whipping it's tail through it. Corvayne froze as it twisted about until he saw it was settling in with a commanding view of the plaza's remaining exits. He lowered his head slowly back under the railing.
Each foot he dragged himself was sending jolts of pain through his bad leg. Taking a few deep breaths, he tried to see if he could will himself back to the beacon. It didn't feel... ready. It felt like he might push it further and make it work, or messing with the link he felt might split the difference and send him halfway. Halfway being a point off the bridge over an endless pit: no thanks. He kept crawling, certain there were bone shards he was jamming further out of place. He really needed his leg fixed, and since he was wishing he could also use a plasma rifle and Wick waiting in his bed back at the warehouse.
It wasn't impossible though. There was one object he already knew about that might save him. If it was in the chest. If the fire he started didn't break everything in the chest apart. He didn't like all of the 'Ifs' he had pied up. He continued crawling along the rail to the nearest stairs, and sort of inch-wormed his way down the stairs along the wall. The dragon had put it's head down: From the stairs he couldn't see it's head but some of it's upper back was poised above the rubble it had settled on. Near the bottom of the stairs he risked looking at the stairs on the other side and spotted what looked like the weapons of the guards scattered by a burnt parts of limbs and bodies. So his guess was right: The dragon had no idea who it was supposed to kill and so went after the bright moving creatures. Something to consider in the tower: The monsters were not friends. He saw that everything in that corner was sitting still.
He was getting... used to crawling. His leg still was sending him jolts of pain as he laboriously pulled himself across the stone. He could feel how hot the stones were as he neared the park. Thankfully the chest was there, singed but not destroyed. It also had a pillar blocking where he thought the dragon was. He still had to push himself up to a sitting position. He asked his shadows to feel the chest and make sure it wasn't a Mimic. It felt like brittle wood and hot metal. He touched the lid and opened the hot top of the chest.
Inside he saw three red potions, which he had to force himself not to hoot and holler at, a glove that looked like it was made of some blue shimmering material, a light blue potion, a nasty looking throwing knife covered in angry red runes on it's curved surface, then what looked like wooden chain mail. It looked like wood and even smelled a little of cedar but was cool to the touch as if it was steel. First things first: He took one of the red potions and downed it. In a moment a numb feeling washed over him, then his leg felt like someone was stomping on him, mercilessly pounding bone and dragging it and ripping his leg. It needed more power and he pushed past the pain and drank another. The bones snapped back into place with a sound he heard inside his head like a gunshot. But his leg moved and after a few twinges of tightness flexing it, it felt as good as new... maybe not perfect: he had to pull a bone splinter out of his leg with a little prick of blood: the potion seemed to have made leftover bone and pushed most of the shards out while rebuilding him. At least, he hoped it was a leftover and not the potion skipping a step.
The glove had on the back what looked like a light blue gem, smoothed like a bubble. He saw hints of circuitry and recognized a force buckler: a good find since the energy shield didn't require a hand and weighed no more then the glove itself. He slid it on, careful not to summon a shield until he was ready to fight something. He considered leaving the mail in the chest but hefting it, the armor somehow made no noise. He now was regretting not taking any armor from The Watchers: anything protecting his leg might have prevented a break. He could have simply run from the guards and been on his merry way over the bridge by now if he had better defensive gear. Putting it on felt more like wearing a sweater then armor. The last thing he did was take the nasty looking knife. It felt like... a grenade or something. Push come to shove, he'd try to clip the dragon's leg with it. He had a basic plan forming: Distract the dragon with a rock, run up the stairs while the dragon head-butted a building, then climb over the rubble and haul his behind to the exit.
He stalked through the smoldering grass to a pillar and then crouched. Staying as low as possible he came up to the scattered weapons of the guards. Most of them had been mangled during the fight. A meat cleaver caught his eye: It had survived without a scratch and laid almost casually against the wall. Did it count as an axe or something else? Even if it didn't it might be better weapon for fighting a giant undead monster. His spear was really made for foes that could bleed. If he had to fight an animated corpse, hacking it apart would hopefully do the trick. If he could avoid doing so he didn't want to fight the dragon. But if it didn't let him go: He'd give it the fight of it's life... fight of it's death. He put his spear on his back and took the cleaver in hand. The heft of it felt good.
He picked up the snapped handle of the guardian monsters' mace, the same one that had bashed his leg into being unusable, and walked a few steps up the stairs then pulled his hand back and launched it. He started walking until he heard the tell-tale roar and something slammed into a building hard.
Corvayne ran, sprinting up the stairs and sliding a little as he pivoted then started running for the pile of rubble. He heard a roar and looked. The monster was turning around in the building, it's undead eye sockets narrowing.
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He looked back at the pile of rubble, then over at the charging dragon. Fine. Someone had to take out the trash. He squared up with the beast even though he was tiny compared to it. The dragon had it's head down and Corvayne could see rows of rotten teeth as it bared down on him. He tensed as if about to leap to the side then lowered himself and jumped forward along the ground as the monster's mouth clamped down on the air behind him. He attacked above him twice, two quick cleaver cuts then out from under the ribcage of the monster. It didn't seem to feel pain, but it knew he was under him and tried to slam the ground behind it with it's tail. Corvayne thought he had got away clean to the side of the monster but felt a hammer hit his chest as the tail snaked around and slammed into him. His worries about the armor were addressed as the tail flung him into the air: One of the spines had been caught by the chain mail before it could skewer him. He was also able to roll with the blow and twisted in midair. He clenched his glove and summoned the ghostly shield on it, using it to skid to a stop then rolling to his feet in the span of a second.
He didn't wait for the dragon to sort out where he was, instead running for a two story house with a balcony. He took the stairs two at a time then dashed down the hallway as the enraged dragon started charging at the home. He could see it out of the open door he was running through. He didn't stop, leaping to put his feet on the balcony as the dragon put its head down and tackled the home. He lept off the railing before the entire structure fell apart and gripped his cleaver in both hands overhead. [Cross Skill: Leap Strike] activated as he swung down, blasting the dragon's spine with a solid hit and then rolling off the back and tail as it ran through the house. He turned and planted his feet, then charged after the beast's back. The tail snaked around like it had a mind of its own, but Corvayne was not right on the monster. He stood off to its side and took the cleaver with both hands aloft like a batter. The tail managed to whip him in the arm with the very tip of a spine, drawing a nasty gash across it but not enough to stop him from holding firm. He could feel power saturating his hands and the weapon. Then the dragon extended its back leg to pull itself out, and he swung at the limb squarely in front of him. [Cross Skill: Grand slam] drove the blade deep into the leg then there was a cracking sound as the weight of the weapon dug into the bone a moment before Corvayne yanked it out. The monster roared and before it could move its leg, Corvayne attacked with his follow up: [Cross Skill: Limbtaker]. The cleaver felt like a mountain and he slammed it into the monster's back leg, the entire leg shattering.
Corvayne kept his head down and held up his shield glove then, backing away as the tail went into a frenzy trying to smash the ground behind the monster. He took another glancing blow from the tail on his arm, the limb ringing from being hit. He had his shadow hand hand him the runed knife as the dragon turned. [Expert Throw] activated as he fling the knife at the dragon's roaring mouth, aiming for where the creature would be after another moment of turning to roar. A moment later there was a flash of heat and hot magma blossomed from where the dagger stuck inside its cheek, overflowing out of its mouth and starting its neck on fire. The smell of rotting flesh being seared along with the stench of sulfur was almost more overpowering then the blazing heat now radiating from the monster. Corvayne moved as fast as he could away, recognizing that he would cook the same as the monster if it slobbered magma all over him. The monster's eyes glowed with the fire burning through it's skull. The dragon was rapidly losing flesh to the fire and hot slag, not to mention the few solid hits Corvayne had landed.
It was slowing down, and though it turned and charged at him the monster's damaged leg caused it to veer off to the side and sent it plowing through the same stone bench he had been hiding under just a few minutes ago. Corvayne waited for the tail, the real evil MVP of the dragons arsenal, to come whipping by at his head. He met the tip with [Shield Bash] from his glowing shield, sending the spined limb back as the dragon scrambled to stop its momentum instead of slamming into another building, tumbling onto its side. He charged after it again, this time letting the tool in his hand guide him. He didn't have memories of anyone using the weird weapon, but holding it made him think of how he'd attack with the tool. The shape his mind took for his attack felt right, and so he put it into action.
He waited until the beast started righting its self to standing then activated [Butchery] as he swung the cleaver. The effect was obvious both in the cleaver leaving a trail of phantom blood in its wake, and that when it bit into flesh to effortlessly seemed to slice through it. The bony tail's end was hacked off and fell dead to the ground. One less thing to worry about, but the titanic monster was whipping about.
Corvayne took a few steps back as again the dragon off with him, most of its front face burned off. Flickering flames ignited whenever a glob of the magma fell to the ground from its still oozing mouth. The bright light coming from within made the reptilian skull look pitch black. Corvayne drew his rapier and activated [Crescent Blade] as he jabbed out, all three ghostly images practically on top of one another, with the blade in very slightly different spots. He took a few quick back-steps as the beast sputtered another roar, then lumbered at him. Corvayne guided it into the images, one of its forward legs touching them and getting shredded, throwing its bite off aim and letting Corvayne calmly step out of its way and gash its flank with a one handed [Butchery], then rolling behind its tail-stump as it tried to turn the direction he moved. With his other hand he put himself behind the healthy leg and barraged [Backstab] into it. He didn't take out much flesh before he backed off. It looked like the beast was going down, but it planted its head on the ground, flaming skull and now blackened neck and ribs dripping magma. Was it dead? Corvayne didn't approach, but then the beast's bones started dissolving as an image formed. Wisps of energy were flowing to its skull.
The brittle colorless scales left on it flashed and grew bright green. Its missing horns curled out. Its eyes grew back, stemming the flow of magma. Corvayne didn't wait, and started hurtling for the fallen building blocking his way. He heard the beast inhaling and felt it drag him back a step with the intake of so much air. Corvayne sheathed his rapier as he ran and handed his shadowy hand the cleaver, spear rolling into his hand. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the image bringing its neck down. He hit the pile running, using the momentum to make two jumps on parts of a wall before he hit the top, took a breath, held it, and then activated [Flow Like Water] down the back side. Three steps later he immediately used the skill again as a wave of force and light exploded from the other side of the barrier, only not frying him because he activated the ability immediately after stepping out of the first. He was still in the middle of a firestorm as most of the buildings around him had ignited. He closed his eyes and pushed forward, searing his forearms and the back of his neck before he burst out of the fires around him.
He ran a few steps until he could risk breathing in again, the air hot but not enough to sear his lungs. Looking back he could see the dragon's image waver and then the skull fell into the fire, magic spent, the shadow of it dissolving into the fire. He was left to stumbling back to the group in pain, burns everywhere. Still... he felt like a champion.
He strode into the plaza with his friends. His skin was red with burns, he coughing a little from the smoke, and his armor actually steaming. Still, he felt himself smile. He had made it out alive, and was glad to see his friends were fine as well.
Wick turned from the pair of guard corpses they were looking at. “Ha! You look like you got your ass kicked.”