I scowled as the air in the center of the arena began to shimmer, and I retracted the magical fire blade back into my Hilt of Holding. If this was what was going to happen, then swinging around a flaming sword was just as likely to get me burned as it was to do damage to my opponent.
The shimmer started to become more and more solid as the animal emerged into this world. It reminded me of watching illusions manifesting, though more dangerous. The whole process was faster than I expected, taking thirty seconds at the most, and I was looking up at a large black eye staring down at me.
Standing in the center of the arena, warbling loudly as the crowd all around us cheered, was a thirty foot tall chicken.
The same one that plagued the camp back in the first wagon dungeon, if I had to guess. It looked like a common rooster with brown plumage, black feathers at its tail, yellow feet and beak, and dark red comb and wattle. As we stared off at each other, something stung the back of my head though I didn’t dare move to slap whatever bug just bit me.
When the pain disappeared, I realized that I knew what this was. It wasn’t just a Dire Chicken, but a Temporal Dire Chicken. The rooster was stuck in an anomalous state that kept it outside of the world as a whole, appearing only for an hour or so every week. It didn’t have any control over this ability, but it would continue to pop in and out of time until it was dealt with permanently.
A part of me thought that this was an incredibly dumb creature and wondered what the Dungeon Master was thinking putting it in his dungeon, but another part of me put the pieces together. The arena was built specifically to house the Temporal Dire Chicken. It appeared dead center, as if waiting for it to arrive. Would it have been different if we had killed it on Gar’s request? What did the continuity look like? Was there any continuity at all?
I didn’t have enough time to think it through. The rooster did not seem impressed by its latest offering, or whatever I was supposed to be to it, and crowed directly at me. Daggers shot through my ears as I grit my teeth, the pain of the loud cry dissipating quickly though it left me disoriented. I shook my head, trying to regain my sense of equilibrium, as a shadow loomed over me.
There was no waiting for my head to clear or for my condition to improve. I ran and dove out of the way. Dust flew in every direction as the chicken landed where I had been just seconds earlier. The spurs on its legs, each far larger than I, slashed against the sandy ground.
With one last shake of my head, I fully grasped my situation and shot to my feet. This was just another obstacle on the path to taking out Raitheus Razorbeak, and it needed to be treated like one.
The rooster lowered its head, opening its beak as it tried to swallow me whole. The attack was easy to anticipate due to its massive size, and I dodged out of the way while I spun the dial on my Hilt of Holding.
The rooster wasn’t done, however, and it turned its head. With mouth agape, it didn’t discriminate between me or the sand as it swept towards me. I ran as fast as I could, making sure that the dial was exactly where I wanted it, and just in time.
I felt the rooster’s tongue push against my back as the beak closed in on either side. In order to make sure my feet survived without getting bitten, I jumped.
Darkness overtook me as I was bashed and battered by the rooster’s tongue. Despite my precarious position, I could still hear the cheering of the crowd at my assumed demise. It wasn’t a bad assumption as I was already being pushed back towards the creature’s gullet. Not liking where this was going, I activated the rune on my Hilt of Holding.
A twelve inch blade made of green metal similar to the one that made up the hilt popped forward. It featured several serrated edges, reminding me of a shark’s tooth, and a black liquid dripped from each point. Before the rooster had a chance to swallow, I plunged it deep into the writhing tongue.
The Temporal Dire Chicken cried out in pain as its mouth opened. My ears hurt from the proximity, but not nearly as much as it had before. The errant thought of having that checked out later hit me in case there was permanent damage crossed my mind, but it flitted away as quickly as it came as I continued to slice and stab at the beast’s tongue.
It didn't take long before I was pushed out of the rooster’s mouth.
At some point while I was inside, the monster had stood up to its full height, and I found myself falling towards the ground. I reached out in order to try and grab its wattle, but my short arms betrayed me. Instead, I found salvation as the rooster shifted, waving its wings wildly as it concerned itself with the wound on its tongue. It took a step forward, and I landed in the feathers lining its chest.
I fell through the bird’s plumage and tried to get purchase. Each of the feather’s shafts were as thick as tree branches. I wasn’t sure how far in I fell before grabbing onto a fistful of vanes.
The barbs were stiff and scratched at my skin, but gave me a good way to stop my descent. I was being tossed back and forth by the rooster, still in the throes of pain, but my grip was solid. There was time to think. I looked at the blade in my hand and weighed my options.
A couple of ways to fell this beast came to mind. If I could cut through one of the spur on its legs, the blood loss would eventually catch up with it. The knife-like protrusion was made of the same sort of material as my thumbnails, but scaled up it may be too hard for me to cut through in one go. It was certainly too large for my letter opener. Not to mention I would have to contend with the feet.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
After what happened in its mouth, I didn’t expect it to want to try swallowing me again. My original few stabs were to test how a giant rooster would react to the debilitation effect of my poisoned blade. The liquid pouring out of my dagger was magical, but based on how it was acting so far I would need to make a lot more strikes to effect a beast of this size. Striking its chest might get it to the heart faster, but I felt exposed here despite being covered in interlocking feathers.
Finally, I looked upwards. Climbing the rooster would be difficult, but all I would need was a few good shots at its skull to put it down for good. I would have to hold on for dear life and watch out for its wings, but it felt like the right choice to me. I shifted the Hilt of Holding and put the grip in my mouth, careful not to let any of the poison slide down the blade into my mouth, and started climbing.
The barbs of the feathers kept them all tightly interlocked, and pushing through was a pain. I was able to climb up fairly quickly through the path I fell through since the rooster hadn’t fixed them in its panic, but the moment I hit the beginning of where I descended it was like pushing through a thorned bush. Bracing myself between a few feather shafts, I took the Hilt of Holding and retracted the blade.
Spinning the dial with a practiced hand I selected the scimitar and, aiming upwards, reactivated the magical item. A silvery curved blade popped from the hilt and sliced through the vanes of a few feathers above me. The unadorned and simple blade made short work of the feathers in my path, though it often veered unusually close to the chicken’s flesh.
I had told Ferrisdae that the scimitar drank blood, but I didn’t know where it went nor was it a cursed item. This was true. What I failed to mention was that it actively sought out the blood of my enemies.
Luckily there weren’t any blood feathers on my way up the beast so I was able to avoid slicing through any of the shafts, which was something that would undoubtedly get the rooster’s attention even more than my climbing.
Though not for long, it seemed. The panicked shifting of the Temporal Dire Chicken was starting to slow as it got its bearings. I felt it shifting its head back and forth, looking for the insect that had dared to attack its tongue in such a manner, but I didn’t stop moving. I continued to climb.
Its heavy footfalls reached my ears as the rooster continued to look around. The crowd’s yelling was muted, but I could tell that they were upset. They knew where I was, the problem was getting the chicken to figure it out. I shifted to the right in an attempt to go around a dense cluster of feathers when I heard a loud whistle. Immediately after a gaping wound was torn into the animal’s flesh where I had just been.
“A bullet,” I swore to myself as the chicken’s panicked flailing renewed.
I started chopping and climbing with reckless abandon. The smug look of Razorbeak reloading his blunderbuss filled my mind, obviously tired of my uncontested climb. Sure enough, the shrieking rooster’s beak started picking at the spot I had just left, causing me to slide my scimitar into its chest to keep my balance.
The feathers parted and its large black eye, as big around as I was tall, lingered on me. With a wordless roar, I ran down the closest branch-like feather’s shaft towards its head. I jumped when I felt the beam I was on become too small for my needs and held the scimitar high above me.
The Temporal Dire Chicken recoiled away as I went right for a part of its skull behind the eye, and I thrust my blade forward. It looked like it was going to miss by inches, my charge too slow, but the properties of the scimitar helped me. It sought out the blood of the beast and slid into its flesh without issue. I was able to reach out and grab the smaller feathers around the rooster’s crown as the scimitar sunk deeper.
It wasn’t enough. I pulled out a bloodless blade as the rooster shook its head, trying to dislodge me and end its pain. My grip was tight, however, even as I felt the barbs of the feathers digging into my hand. I slashed at the side of its head, cutting through the feathers and eventually its skin. Blood trickled down its neck and I felt it stop.
I didn’t slow my attacks. Darkness fell over me again as a gargantuan wing struck me on the back. I grit my teeth through the pain and continued swinging. More and more blood began to get sucked up, and soon I could see white bone keeping its brain safe. I was almost there.
The rooster dropped to the ground, and in a moment of surprise I looked at its eye. It was looking back at me with both fury and fear. In the reflection I could clearly see that it was attempting to slam me into the ground. An undoubtedly effective tactic. I was forced to jump away when I was closer to the ground, rolling to my feet.
I retracted my blade as I pivoted and jumped back onto the beast. “THAT THE BEST YOU’VE GOT!?” I yelled as I pushed the Hilt of Holding against my jacket, spinning the dial without using two hands.
The bird’s cries of pain and panic got louder as I brought out my flaming sword once more. “Ignite,” I whispered, causing the blade to light up with magical fire. If it were panicked before, this was certainly reaching a new level.
It lifted its head again as I began stabbing, trying to break through the skull and finish this. It was a lot sturdier than I had been anticipating, likely due to its great size, but I was chipping away. I managed to gain purchase as it slammed down one last time. My hilt hit the ground first, allowing the force of the blow to finally pierce the skull and begin frying the brain inside.
I was the second to hit the ground, and the wind was knocked out of my lungs. The Temporal Dire Chicken laid atop me, its eyes losing the light of life inches away from my face, and I let out a sigh of relief.
While the rooster wasn’t a skilled combatant, it was powerful in many other ways. Reaching into my pocket with what little room I had, I grabbed a potion. After uncorking it with my teeth and drinking it, I felt the wounds all over my body heal and my hearing coming back to me.
The arena was quiet, and I imagined the disbelief they must have been feeling. If the story dungeon was as I guessed, this rooster was a way of life for them. They likely gathered here to watch prisoners be executed by the giant bird. To see it slain was something they might not be able to quickly wrap their mind around.
Once I had caught my breath thanks to the potion, I shifted around until I was able to lift the bird’s head off of me. It was tough, but a chicken was still a chicken and I was still as strong as ever. My flaming sword fell to the ground as I kicked the head away off of me. Dust and sand obscured me, and I grabbed my weapon as I stood up. The hush didn’t last as the crowd screamed in confusion.
My eyes were already on Razorbeak and his mage friend. As I walked past the feathers of the Temporal Dire Chicken, I stuck my blade between them. The fire caught quickly and easily, leaving behind a trail that began spreading all over the body.
“One bird down, Razorbeak, two more to go!” I yelled up at him. “Get down here and fight me yourself, you glorified parrot! Or are you an even bigger chicken than this one?”