The trembling stopped some time later and I lay on the dust-strewn ground: a bit of soreness still radiating out of my stomach. I pulled open the flap of the small bag, and dug around past the clustered kerosene bottles stuck inside of the red berries to keep them from jostling and breaking whenever I jumped out of the window; relieved to find no shards of broken glass within them, I pulled out a singular berry and pop it into my mouth. Its tart taste filled my mouth and flowed down my burning throat as it settled in my stomach. The hunger I was beginning to feel had fled.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone. Fresh cracks spiderwebbed across the screen and I cursed my luck as I turned it on 11:30 PM, December 23rd. I set my phone down on the ground and draped my arm over my eyes as I took another deep breath. That was close...I had brushed against death and had barely missed its call. I need to take this whole thing more seriously than I have been.
“Did I level up?” I asked.
Twice.
“Put half the points in Magic and the other half into Strength.”
Strength? Are you planning on abandoning your idea of becoming a mage?
“I just want to get out of this alive,” I mumbled.
I hissed as heat rushed through my body as both stats rose from 12 to 15. It was as if I had stepped into a bath of boiling water, and swallowed a dollop of it as well as the burning spread to my core. After a moment, the burning passes, and my body feels slightly stronger. I pushed myself up, and the little bit of pain I had always felt in my lower back was gone, and I was able to stand up completely straight for the first time in half a decade. I turned on my flashlight, and looked around the room: my eyes immediately focusing on the well in the middle of the room.
The water rushing within the well was like a siren’s call. I leaned over the rim: the stone was rough and sticky, like granite, and the water glimmered like a million diamonds as the white light of my phone’s light. Saliva formed in my mouth, and flooded it. I swallowed as I looked around the room.
An old bucket and a rope sat near the rim of the well, I set my phone down on the rim of the well and picked it up. It dropped into the water with a soft splash. The current tugged at the rope as if it were trying to yank it out of my grasp, and so I wrapped the length around my knuckles as the bucket filled, and lifted it up. The water sloshed in the bucket as I pulled it from the depths. As soon as it was close enough, I leaned down and pulled it up put the rim of the wooden bucket to my lips, and practically moaned as the water flowed down my smoke-dry throat, and cooled the fever simmering across my body. Once my thirst was quenched, I lifted the bucket over my head and poured it over myself. The frigid floes rinsed the ash, sweat, and blood stuck on my scalp, and soothed the itching. I let the runoff drip down into the sparkling water underneath, before grabbing my phone and using it to navigate to the cellar’s hatch.
I climbed the staircase and pushed up: holding the phone in my teeth. As soon as the hatch was open, the white light twinkled off the black eyes of a ratman. Scarred, pink skin covered its body in patches through its wiry white fur: stained now with soot and ash. It clutched one of its hands over its side, as red liquid seeped out from between its clutched claws, and its long, pointed snout was drawn back in a pained grimace.
I pulled myself up out of the cellar as quickly as I could and threw myself toward the injured ratman in a forward tackle: bringing him to the floor underneath me as it tried to pull its blade hanging at its side out of its sheathe. I pinned its right arm to the ground by planting my knee on its wrist and, before a warning sound could escape its lips, I wrapped my hands around its throat and squeezed. It punched scratched and flailed with its left arm, as its black eyes began to bulge out of its socket. Its punches grew weaker and weaker, until, at last, it couldn’t lift its arm to strike at me any longer.
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18/23
Five left, huh? I shoved the ratman over with my foot and pulled the silvery ring off of its tail. I tossed it up in one hand and stuffed it into my pocket, I then unhooked the blade off of the creature’s belt. The spear I had used as a crutch was mostly ash at this point. The point had crumbled off as soon as I drew it from the creature’s throat. I drew the blade from its marred steel sheathe, and turned it over in my hand: the metal was black, yet shimmered like a mirror. The shape of the blade was closer to that of a scimitar, with a dull point. A purely slashing weapon, perhaps? I swung it. The balance was centered in the middle..but what choice did I have? Use the dagger? No. That would put me at too much risk.
Why did the trap work so well? Perhaps they weren’t used to tricks like that in their wars. A thousand other possibilities played at me, but there was one thing that I knew: I was lucky. Luckily it had worked so well. There were a thousand possibilities.
I slash downward, and the blade neatly cuts a line through the flesh of the creature's arm. It was sharp, but the chips and cracks already formed on its blade gave me the impression that it wasn’t long for this world. Good enough. I sheathed it and pulled out my wand and trapped myself on the top of the head.
“You that bind the all, protect me from all those that might do me harm.”
Repel glimmered around me, and I pushed out the door. Two pillars of smoke rose to the skies, as Efrans ran from house to house carrying buckets of water from their wells. The fire I had started in the trapped house had spread to the house beside it as well. One Efran — a gray-furred dogman, uninjured by the looks of it, emerged from the house beside the one I had stepped out of and glanced in my direction. It barked and howled, and its warning bay was echoed.
The dogman sprinted toward me.
“Gnomes, servants of Gob the Magnanimous, I beseech thee to seize my enemies.”
I finished the incantation just as I was in range from a downward swing of its mace. It crashed against my head and bounced off Repel, and I retreated a step as the hand of stone reached up from the ground and wrapped around the dog’s ankle. The force of the blow had transferred through the invisible armor and left me dizzy as It tried to take a step toward me. It glanced down and began to try to destroy the stone hand with its mace. I drew the blade and tossed its marred sheet to the side as I swung downward onto the creature’s exposed neck.
The blade sliced halfway through before getting caught on bundles of built-up flesh.
19/23
Its body collapsed to the ground, as a ratman charged forward with a raised blade, similar to the one I was using. It swung its sickle-like sword toward me. I gripped my blade in both of my hands and swung down to intercept. Its horizontal swing aimed up at my throat skittered off Repel and destroyed it, while my downward sliced clean through its wrist. A horrid scream broke through the creature’s mouth as it clutched its missing limb. I swung the sickle-like weapon like a baseball bat into the creature’s head. It cut through the skull and broke a quarter of the way through.
20/23
My feet leave the earth, as a rather large dogman mounts me like an MMA fighter. In both his hands he carried a wicked-looking dagger, pointed down toward me. I raised my right hand just in time to intercept. I muffled a scream as the blade pierced through my palm. I bent my palm down, swept the ground beside us, and picked up a handful of dust with my other hand, and tossed it into the creature’s eyes. It pulled its head away, and I groped blindly until I found my dropped wand. I stuck the point right into the creature’s nostril.
“I allow the blood of the salamanders to flow through me.” I incant through gritted teeth.
As soon as the upwards triangle glowed red, a howling scream erupted from its canine maw. It let go of the knife and gripped its nose as the burning ash worked its way down its sinuses. I thought for sure that would kill it or knock it out...
I reached up with my left hand yanked its throat down toward my face and bit into it. It howled again as its copper blood flowed down my throat. I then raise my knee and push it away from me while keeping my teeth clamped down on its throat.
21/23
I pushed the gurgling body off of me and stood. A large dogman was coming down the street. It wore a heavy chain jacket underneath a white tunic with a red dagger piercing through a red skull emblazoned on its chest like a Templar’s Cross. Its fur was red and wiry like the fur of an Irish Wolf Hound, with hints of gray staining the tips. It stood a good head taller than I did and carried a simple fauchard with no fancy adornments that competed with the tips of its pointed ears in height. Its short snout maw widened in a grin when it laid its eyes on me. I pulled the dagger from my hand and steadied my beating heart as I tapped my thigh with my wand.
“You that bind the all, protect me from all that might do me harm,” I mutter, as the dogman spun the polearm in the air above its head and pointed it at me.