Weylan frantically dragged his feet to avoid the snapping jaws of the leaping shraal. He tried to pull himself up another section of the rope but couldn't manage it. His strength and endurance failed him. Weylan waited for the shraal to get ready for the next jump, pressed his feet against the rope beneath him and pushed himself a little higher. He cursed: "Gods, how did it all go so wrong?"
Trulda casually pulled herself up by her rope hand over hand on the other side of the ambush and swung her legs over a branch: "We didn't think the creature would dodge so quickly either, grab the spear with its mouth and then just bite through. Or that its companion would find a way underground to the area behind us we thought was safe."
Skorr Callad threw a javelin from a tree on the other side of the clearing at the shraal. The projectile flew elegantly through the air toward the creature's neck... and bounced off the shraal's horn-armored shoulder. "I didn't think the critters could jump that high!"
"You don't say." Weylan hung from the rope high in the tree, arms trembling and hands dripping with sweat. He would surely survive the fall down into the soft swamp. For about three heartbeats, until one of the two shraal would bite him in two.
That was about as long as he would be able to stay up here. Time for desperate maneuvers... if only he could think of one. He slid down a little further. The shraal took this as an opportunity to jump again. That was it. He turned his head and had difficulty looking up. Trulda was on her way to get to his rope. She wanted to pull him up safely. Maybe he could hold on long enough... But then they were all just trapped in the tree.
Time for heroes.
Iron Ma'am flew through the air in a high arc from her hiding place, a short sword in each hand. The plan had seemed almost insane to Weylan. Now that he saw the result, he changed his mind. It was utterly insane. She’d used up most of her mana in one overpowered jump and flew in a high arc, whirling uncontrollably on her axis, straight towards the female shraal's back. She hit the beast's back with a painful thud and rolled off it. After a turn and a half, she managed to dig her short sword into the body and grab hold of it. She began to stab wildly at the shraal with the other short sword. Weylan drew strength from the fact that at least part of the plan was working. Pinned on her back, out of reach, she would be able to finish off the female shraal. With only one opponent left, they had a chance of at least putting him to flight.
The shraal curled up and bent her tail unexpectedly far back as she arched her back. The tail swept vigorously back and forth and swept Iron Ma'am down. Her attempt to hold on with the stuck short sword tore the blade in a deep gouge through the flesh while she was thrown away. The shraal writhed in pain. Bright, almost colorless blood sprayed out in a sickening fountain under the beast's rapid pulse.
The shraal beneath Weylan whirled around to check on its roaring partner. Weylan saw the shape the shraal's back formed and made an instant decision. He let go.
Even on the short way down, he concentrated on his shadow magic. He sensed the shadows of the tree from which he fell. A pattern of branches and leaves stretched across the beast's back. For a moment, he was unsure if the shadow was dense enough for his plan, but his own shadow would fill in the gaps as he landed. Hopefully.
He focused his will on the one quality of shadow he needed: frictionlessness.
He called to his shadow magic on his feet and back. The tree's shadows were drawn to him and when he hit the scaly back, he focused on the property of shadows to have no frictional resistance. Like butter sliding down a hot pan, he zipped down the creature's spine and swiftly shot up its curved tail. Before the shraal could even comprehend what was happening, let alone react, he was already airborne, using the tail as a ramp to propel himself toward another tree. He soared through the air, crashing into the branches with full force.
He clung to a branch with both arms. Selvara fluttered down from the foliage above him and hovered beside him. She applauded very slowly: "Great. Really great. That looked really impressive. But... what exactly did that get you? You're hanging in a tree again. Couldn't you have stayed over there?"
Weylan took a few deep breaths until he had caught his breath. Then he grinned. He put his finger over his mouth and spoke very quietly: "Firstly, the shraal doesn't know where I am at the moment." He pointed with his chin to the shraal that had just jumped up into the tree from which Weylan had just disappeared. He tossed his head back and forth, searching. Then, annoyed, he rammed against the tree and looked up expectantly. When the shraal could see nothing there, he searched the ground.
Weylan pointed at the shraal: "Secondly, he is now almost exactly in position for Skorr's plan B."
Selvaras gaze flashed back and forth between the shraal and Weylan's face."
"We agreed that one was pure madness!"
"That was your opinion. Watch out..."
Skorr swung out of the tree in a high arc. He held on to the rope with his left hand and swung his war pick with his right. Similar to a regular mining pick, but with sharp edges all around. One side ran to a point, the other to a flat end that could be used much like a war hammer. Forged from hardened steel. Weylan had very carefully applied a sticky corrosive poison with a brush before the fight. Malvorik had not been sure how effective the poison he gave them with their potion set would be since that was something he’d never tried to make until now. At the highest arc, Skorr let go of the rope and flew off. He grabbed the pick with both hands and put his momentum, his body weight and the strength of his arms into a single stroke. Stone-piercing Strike, his skill feat for his war pick skill, let him ignore most armor. The tip of the pickaxe struck the shraal's forehead perfectly. Then his body slammed with full force against the monster.
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The steel point penetrated through the thick leather hide and the skull up to the handle. Blood and a white mass spurted out. The shraal reared up, and Skorr toppled lifelessly to down.
Weylan cursed: "By Cofefe's tiny hands! He's unconscious. We have to save him. You are faster. Go!"
He pulled a vial of healing potion from his belt pouch and held it out to Selvara. She grabbed the vial with both arms and flew off.
Weylan drew the magic short sword and pulled the handle out as far as it would go. The pole reached almost to the ground. He held it diagonally forward over the walkway and jumped. The handle bounced against the wooden planks and spun him in an arc to the other side. In the air, he retracted the handle to spear length with a mental command and whirled his weapon around. Point first, he pierced into the shraal's back. His weight pressed the blade into the monster up to the hilt. Before he also crashed into the back of the beast, he let go and turned his impact into a tumbling roll over his shoulder. He rolled over once on the shraal, then once in the air, fell down and smacked feet first into the swamp. His momentum sank him right up to his waist. He looked down: "Crap. That wasn't part of the plan."
The Shraal roared, reared up even more and then fell limp. A geyser of blood spurted from the wound Weylan had just caused. Again. Again. Then the spurts slowed and dried up. The shraal was dead.
Enemy defeated: Shraal (Monster, level 8)
He thought he saw a number below the text, but the message flickered and changed.
Enemy defeated: Shraal (Monster, level 8)
High XP, awarded to the team members with the lowest level (Trulda and Ulmenglanz) as per team setting
He remembered the team setting they decided on. All XP would go to the members with the lowest levels until they caught up. This made sense, especially as it helped them enter the Journeyman tier. But why didn’t it show the concrete number of XP? Was that due to the team settings? He noticed a blinking icon at the edge of his field of vision. Something that happened would be if some notification came up while he was fighting so as not to distract him. He mentally called it up.
World Announcement
After receiving 354.254 complaints and requests for clarification on the exact XP calculation, XP gains will no longer be shown as specific numbers for players above level 5. Instead, you will be notified when you are eligible for a level-up.
Complaints about this change and requests for clarification on this topic will result in a one-week ban. There will be no exceptions.
Weylan shrugged. That didn’t sound so bad. He turned to look at the defeated monster and made a pumping gesture of victory with his fist: "We showed him!"
He looked around. He was too far away from all the trees and bushes to get out of the swamp on his own. However, that didn't seem to be a problem for him at first. One of his friends would rescue him. He had learned from the villagers that you didn't sink into the swamp on your own unless there were creepers to pull him down. Or giant leeches. Or a swamp vortex... "Hey, Selvara! Skorr? Are you there?"
Selvara flew towards him close to the ground, waving her arms vigorously. What was she trying to tell him... A loud roar echoed through the swamp. Yes. Of course. The female Shraal was still nearby. And he had just drawn attention to himself. He reached frantically into his belt pouches. Nothing useful. He lifted the signet ring and activated the enchantment that removed his scent from the area. Even if it was probably of little use. Shraals searched for prey mainly with their eyes and their sense of vibration. They sensed the waves of movement in the swamp. He froze as he thought about it.
The roar came closer quickly.
Selvara slowed down close to his head and stopped, fluttering in the air. She whispered directly into his ear: "Is hiding in the swamp part of your plan?"
Weylan shook his head: "Do you have a spell that can get me out of here?"
She thought momentarily and then blew out a blast of ice-cold air. The frost breath hit the ground before him, and the swamp became covered in hoarfrost and ice. She turned her head slightly, but then her breath went out. Her wingbeats became irregular, and she began to sway. Weylan quickly held out his hand, and she landed on it. He leaned to the side and set her down on a piece of wood that easily held her weight but would do him no good. He leaned forward and grabbed the edge of the ice. The thin layer of ice cracked under his grip. He slid back a little and waited until it was still again. Slowly and carefully, he tried to pull himself onto the sheet of ice in vain. As soon as he put weight on the edge, the ice splintered. He hesitated momentarily, then carefully lifted one leg higher and stretched it out in the mud. With the increased resistance, he pushed himself up a little and placed his hands on the ice, trying to distribute his weight over as large an area as possible. However, as soon as he tried to lift himself out of the swamp, a web of cracks opened around his hands. He slowly shifted his weight back down and whispered to Selvara: "I’m stuck. Where are the others?”
The tiny fairy held her gaze nervously in the direction from where the other shraal still came nearer. “Ulmenglanz is busy healing Skorr, who’s still unconscious. Trulda is climbing down that tree, she’ll take a while to get here. Iron Ma’am is also on her way to assist you, but she’s injured and out of mana.”
Weylan shook his head and spoke quietly, as he’d learned from his master that would carry less than whispering: “Get her out of here. She’ll just get killed again. I’d appreciate it if she could lure the beast away, but I doubt that’ll work. I’ll hide here.”
Selvara nodded and flew away. He concentrated on his magic. Shadows moved and flowed around until his silhouette was mostly obscured. The shraal was too near to do anything else, so he just stood still and waited.