Persepera

The 25th of Elaphebolion

The Year 4631 in the Era of Mortals

Lyssa took a deep, measured breath and sighted down the shaft of her arrow. On the other side, plus an additional fifty meters, stood twenty beastmar. On her right, Tess crouched, knives in hand, glaring at the beastmar with as much hatred as Lyssa felt. They had emerged into the cavern to see it had mostly emptied, the rest out searching the dungeon for them.

The few beastmar left lazed about, conversing in groups or sleeping. A couple sharpened blades with large, flat stones, another few harried prisoners in a cage made from bone. Arche had told her there were a dozen in the cage but that number had dwindled down to six.

They hadn’t been fast enough to save those people. In truth, they’d barely been fast enough to save themselves and not completely. Arche was still lost. Lyssa’s fingers clenched around the oiled wood of her bow as she activated a Student maneuver, Drill Shot. The arrow lanced through the air, spinning and shrieking like a banshee the entire way.

The beastmar froze when they heard the noise, unable to see where it was coming from as the sound echoed off the stone. The arrow struck one beastmar in the side of the head, plunging straight through to embed itself, still spinning, into another’s torso. The first had been killed outright, but the other howled in agony as the arrow continued to churn inside its flesh. It wouldn’t kill the second, but it removed the threat, for the time being.

The maneuver would continue drilling for another five seconds but Lyssa had already moved on to her next arrow. She stood, letting the beastmar get a good look at her, then loosed another shot. Tess activated Stealth, disappearing even from Lyssa’s sight. Knives struck down unsuspecting beastmar, coming from seemingly nowhere as the Rogue flitted in and out of sight like an apparition.

Things were going better than expected, all things considered. Together, they had taken down over half a dozen of the beastmar, with another dozen well on the way. Lyssa strafed to the side, each draw of her bow spelling death for the monstrous things before her.

The air hummed and filled with static. Lyssa abandoned her shot and dove for the ground. As fast as she was, the lightning was faster. It crashed into her and blasted her away. She tumbled across the rock, feeling every nerve in her body twitch and spasm with pain. Her combat notifications triggered, giving her the information without distraction.

Lightning Bolt: 184 Damage

Stunned: 00:03

Sparks flashed up and down her body. Every attempt to move was met with blinding pain as her limbs ignored her commands to instead jerk and flail of their own accord. Three seconds might as well have been an eternity. The lightning had cost her precious time, time that the beastmar had used to catch up with her. Her bow was gone, flung from her reach by the muscle spasms.

With fried nerves, Lyssa got to her feet, still feeling unsteady. The beastmar had split into three groups. Three beastmar approached her, weapons and claws raised. Another five attempted to surround Tess, who still flickered in and out of stealth as she fought. The last three were ranged fighters, two stringing bows while a robed beastmar—the only one Lyssa had ever seen wearing clothing—chanted and waved a blue-white wand. That meant trouble, but there were more pressing concerns.

Lyssa side-stepped, dipping her head as a beastmar with large, bear-like claws slashed at her. She twisted and the claw sailed past, less than a hair’s breadth from rending her flesh. Then she dove forward, rolling beneath the trampling horse-like legs of another beastmar that resembled a corrupted centaur. She brought one arm up as she came back to her feet, a kopis materializing in time to deflect a swung axeblade harmlessly to the side. Lyssa turned with the momentum and threw an elbow into the axe-wielding beastmar’s face.

Over its shoulder, Tess spun and danced, knives flashing as the rogue flipped and rolled, always moving and stabbing at the five beastmar still working to encircle her. As close as the beastmar were, the Rogue couldn’t disappear into Stealth any longer.

Huge hands grabbed Lyssa from behind, then she was flying through the air. She spun, trying to get her feet under her, but to no avail. She hit the ground back-first, bouncing and rolling across the stone floor. Pain lanced through her side as she fought to get her feet under her. Hesitation was death; the pain could be dealt with later.

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The centaurian beastmar bore down on her, wielding a large spear pointed forward to run her through. Lyssa deflected the spear tip high with her sword but momentum carried the beastmar forward. They collided and Lyssa was thrown to the ground. Her head smacked wetly against stone.

Lyssa blinked hard, bleary as she tried to gather her thoughts. It was dark, but she couldn’t hear the night insects or see the moons. Strange. She didn’t normally spend the night outside of Dawnwood. It wasn’t safe.

A combat notification flashed in front of her.

Dazed: 00:07

Reality wormed its way in slowly. Dawnwood was behind her, a past she would never see again. She was deep below ground, far away from her beloved forest, in a battle to the death – but in the moment, it was hard to care. She missed the open air, the forest, her brother. Anywhere was better than here.

Lyssa tried to push herself to her feet but her body was rebellious and her legs wouldn’t respond. Four seconds left. Pressure gripped her wrists. Lyssa shifted, trying to wrench away but it held her fast. Something impacted the side of her face.

Lyssa blinked hard and the world swam back into focus. She was suspended, held aloft by rope that now bound her hands together, lifted by the centaurian beastmar. Its distorted grey-brown face snarled at her triumphantly. Lyssa bared her teeth and snarled back, wriggling side-to-side, trying to loosen the beastmar’s grip.

A heavy fist slammed into her face, rocking her head back. Green blood flowed steadily from her nose, dripping down her face and onto the ground below but, if anything, it only made her angrier. The beastmar hauled back for another blow but Lyssa was ready. She drew herself up, pulling on the rope until her arms protected her head; she curled her legs in and kicked forward, planting both feet into the beastmar’s face. It reeled backwards and dropped her. Lyssa twisted in the air, landing hands-first, and tucked herself into a roll.

Static charge rent the air and Lyssa threw herself to the side. A blast of lightning flashed above her, deafening thunder echoed off the cavern walls. Lyssa blinked, trying to clear the afterimage from her eyes. An arrow clattered against the stone ground next to her, splintering on impact. Lyssa grabbed the shattered arrowhead and turned the sharpened edges of metal against the rope tying her hands.

She had barely scratched the rough-spun when she was forced to dodge again. The centaurian beastmar bore down on her with its bloodied, fierce visage matching her own in all but color. The beastmar reared up on hind legs, aiming to trample her. Lyssa cursed and stumbled back, coming up against the bars of the cage. Her mind raced but there was no way out.

The centaurian beastmar swung around to charge her once again. Behind it and to the right, the magic-wielding beastmar and his archer accompaniment focused on pinning Tess down, whose armor was stained red from a dozen minor wounds. The Rogue kept moving forward but her movements grew slower by the moment. In her wake, several beastmar clutched mortal wounds, spilling the last of their black blood onto the rocks. The rest attempted to catch her before she reached the archers. The more immediate concern to Lyssa, however, were the three beastmar intent on ripping her limb from limb. The bear-claw beastmar charged from the right, the axe-wielder from the left, and the centaurian with the spear was in front.

No fear gripped Lyssa as the three beastmar bore down on her.

She had no weapons, nowhere to run. Her hands were bound but she held her head high. Blood flowed from her nose and she spat more from her mouth, letting loose a savage war cry that held every broken thought and feeling she’d repressed for the last ten years. She filled it with her pain, her grief, and her rage.

They would kill her – but she would have them know fear before the end.

Hands grabbed her shoulders and pulled her backward, between the bars and into the cage. She fell into a pile of tangled limbs as the beastmar collided in front of her. Iron and bone buckled and bent around the weight of impact; the whole cage gave a threatening shudder. There was a wet squelch as the centaurian beastmar’s spear, which had been leveled toward Lyssa’s heart only a moment ago, was too slow in moving off-target and pierced clean through the torsos of the other beastmar. They howled in agony, not dead but gravely wounded.

Lyssa felt the rope binding her hands fall away as the prisoners of the cage came to her aid. One moved forward and grabbed the spear, wrenching it from the centaurian beastmar by pulling it through the other two. A hoarse cry broke free from one of the prisoners, a dwarf, who snatched up the fallen axe of the beastmar and slipped through the bars of the cage. More of the prisoners surged forward, three running through the gaps between bars to pummel the beastmar with fists and feet. Someone grabbed the centaurian beastmar’s leg, holding it fast while the dwarf swung his axe into its side.

“Die!” one of the prisoners shouted, striking out with a broken length of chain.

The tide had turned. Tess closed in on the archers, one of which had already fallen to a thrown knife. Two beastmar gave chase but they wouldn’t catch her in time. The mage beastmar raised its wand into the air and barked a word of power. The air rippled outward from the wand’s tip. A primal instinct told her to make herself small. She stuck her fingers into what was left of her ears and closed her eyes. The ripple crashed into her like a wall of sound. A screeching, horrible, burning noise that drowned everything. Blood dripped from her ears, squelched against her fingers. Lyssa fell to the ground, throat hoarse with screams, silent against the noise. It was too much. Too much by far.

The sound faded, echoing off the stone in a phantom cry. Lyssa gasped and smeared tears into blood with the back of her hand. The magus was far across the cavern, moving toward a passage that would lead to a smaller cavern, if Arche’s map had been accurate. A dull roar echoed from behind Lyssa, coming from the tunnels that led to the rest of the complex. The other prisoners stopped and turned as well. Howls, barks, and cries for blood and battle echoed back.

The horde was coming.