The canine creature rushes toward me on its hind legs. I barely have time to raise my arm as I catch the glint of something metallic in the grass at its side. A blade sings through the air as it slices its tops off. The scimitar clangs against the gauntlets with such force that a bruise begins to form underneath. The Dogman doesn’t relent as he swings once more for my neck. I raise my right arm to intercept it. Pain surges through my arm and I step back just as the creature took a downward swing aimed at the crown of my head.
I frantically pull out my wand as he recovers his position. As I point it toward him, he swings for it. I rotate my wrist so that the blade of the scimitar skips off the metal.
“By the order of Gob,” I begin.
The dogman swipes forward once again; lunging forward just as he began to draw the arc in a horizontal swipe to my stomach. I retreat a step. The tip of the scimitar slices through my hoodie and cuts a thin ribbon across my stomach. If it weren’t for the layers of fat, and for the step backward that probably would have been the end of me.
“K-king of the spirits of the earth, I order you,” I speak in stuttering tones as I stammer through the pain, “Oh gnomes..”
The Dogman stabs forward. I bring up my left arm to intercept. The blade skittered off, yet the Dogman pushed forward with the stab; sliding off the gauntlet until the tip of the blade sank beneath one of the segmented plates and into my arm beneath. I feel the point scrape against my bone
“SIEZE MY ENEMIES.” I finish the incantation just as Dogmen drew his blood-tipped blade from my now limp arm and raised the blade above his head to deliver the final strike against me.
A massive soil hand erupts from the ground and grabs hold of the Dogman’s haunch at the knee. I step back just as it finishes the swing. The momentum, and its trapped leg, causes it to fall face-first into the soil. It begins to pull at the hand, and cracks quickly begin to form.
“I allow the blood of the Salamanders to flow through me.” I incant as I grasp my bleeding stomach.
A deluge of burning ash rushes out of my wand and buries the head of the Dogman until only the tips of its ears, the point of its noise, and the top of its pointed helmet were visible. It yelps in pain as it yanks its head up and out of the burning ash. The quick surge of pain caused it to release the scimitar. I step on top of it to lock it in place.
The Dogman lunges forward while on the ground and grabs hold of my ankle with both of its hands and pulls hard. I fall backward, and it lurched forward and crawled over me. I hear the soil hand crumble as it positions itself over me. Burnt clumps of hair and flesh melt off its face as its slathering maw open. Foamy saliva drips from between its teeth and onto my face in heavy, slimy drops.
It pins me with a heavy hand on my left shoulder and draws a dagger from its thigh as it spits a curse in its growling, barks of a language. It stabs down for my heart with the dagger. I move my hand to intercept it. The point of the dagger bites through the flesh and pierces through the gaps between my knuckles. I grab hold of the creature’s hand with my own, bloodied hand. The movement splits more of the tendons and cartilage in my hand, but I’d slow it. I’ll slow it for however long I could. I lift my neck and press my nose against its clavicle. It smells of dust and burning flesh. If I was going to die, I was going to die fighting.
I bite hard into its muscly neck; where its jugular would be. Hot copper rolls down my throat as the Dogman begins to thrash to pull me free. I pull as hard as I can away from it as my teeth dig further and further into the artery there. It releases its grip on my left shoulder and slams its mailed fist into the side of my clenched jaws. All that does, however, is increase the speed of the ripping. It finally manages to free its hand from the mangled mess of mine, and as it aims the dagger down for one final stab, I manage to rip out its foul-tasting throat. I spit it in its face.
Bright red blood washes over me as it pours from the wound on its neck. It pulls its hands up and presses them against the flow in a vain attempt to stymie flow. It was like asking a single brick to stop the flow of a river, however. The animating light in its panicked eyes fades as it slumps forward, and collapses onto me, never to move again. Maybe new, invincible teeth weren't so bad of a wish, after all.
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I manage to roll it off of me somehow. The pain lessened enough for me to grab hold of my wand buried in the grass.
“By the light of Yahweh...”
This time I am able to cast it ten times before the headaches return. It’s not enough to heal my right hand fully but is enough to stop the flow of blood from my stomach and to seal the white, fatty layers, and enough to get my left arm moving again.
I wait ten minutes and cast the spells once more. Ten more minutes, and again. And again, and again. I cast it until the wound on my right hand is completely closed, and I could grip my wand once again. An ugly, diamond-shaped scar marred the middle of my hand. Proof of my survival. I pull off my backpack and pull out my water bottle and drink heavily from it until I feel like puking up the water.
I hold up my wrist and huff.
“Can you show me my stats?”
The Shard splits and spreads out into the gray screen above me.
NAME: LAWRENCE ABLE
AGE:30
OCCUPATION: NOVICE BATTLEMAGE
LEVEL: 9
EXPERIENCE: 30/700
ADDITIONAL STAT POINTS 3
SKILL POINTS 1
STATS:
STRENGTH: 11(-2)
STAMINA: 11(-4)
PERCEPTIVENESS: 10 (+3)
INTELLIGENCE: 16
CREATIVITY: 15
ENDURANCE: 13 (-6)
MAGIC: 14 (+3)
“Put two in magic, and one in intelligence.”
The numbers change and I feel my core and brain burn once again. I wait until the pain passes.
“Can you show me what skills I can get?”
The skill tables open up. I think of fire, and the page scrolls to the fire section. Beneath, ‘ember,’ is the spell, “spark,” I put my finger over it.
“A spark to beget the mighty inferno.”
It’d just be like the strike of a lighter, I think of Earth, and the screen focuses on that. I’m able to unlock, “rock throw,”
“The spirits of earth hoist a stone from the earth and toss it at your target.”
At least it's ranged. I look further down the list. Two connected lines away was the spell, “Earth spike,” if that did what I thought it did, I wanted it. I decide on rock throw. The information on how to cast it flows into my mind, and, as if I had known it all along, I recite the incantation.
“Bombard my enemies, O’ though servants of Gob, the magnomious.”
Who was this Gob? He was awfully conceited. What an ugly name. I draw the rune — it's the same as ensnare; an upside-down triangle with a line going through the apex point, and, as if responding to my mental mockery, a fist-sized stone rips from the earth and flies skyward in the direction of my wand. It comes down hard and fast and smacks against my solar plexus. I let out a pained oof, as I roll over and grasp my gut.
A trickle of blood from the wound on my stomach causes me to spend another few minutes healing myself.
“Can you show me my skill page?” I ask the Shard.
I like seeing the numbers go up. The skill table flashes.
COMBAT SKILLS:
MAGIC
LESSER HEAL 15/999
EMBER 8/999
ENSNARE 6/999
ROCK THROW 1/999
GUST 4/999
MEDITATION 6/999
CLOSE QUARTERS COMBAT
JAB 13/999
STRAIGHT 12/999
HOOK 16/999
GRAPPLE 20/999
BITE 1/999
WEAPONS:
SPEAR 4/999
KNIFE 2/999
DAGGER 6/999
PASSIVE SKILLS:
MAGIC AFFINITY 5/999
DUELING 4/999
HEALING AFFINITY 10/999
MANA SENSITIVITY 1/999
FIRE AFFINITY 2/999
EARTH AFFINITY 2/999
WIND AFFINITY 2/999
GRIT 5/999
SHADOW RESISTANCE 3/999
PAIN TOLERANCE 12/999
CRIME SKILLS:
LOOTING 12/999
UTILITY SKILLS:
FAMILIAR CONTRACT 10/999
CAT'S EYES 1/999
Sweet, sweet dopamine.
“Can you show me the numbers in real-time?” I ask the Shard.
"I can." Came the reply.
“Please do.”
I lay on the grass for a moment longer; reveling in my victory. Reveling over the fact that I was alive, and this creature, bent on conquering the earth, wasn’t. I glance down as I push myself up. Blood stains...well everything. I’m going to need to find something else to wear; else that ghost story out there will experience a rather gory turn. I should start packing extra clothes.