Jürgen raced through the burning town, guiding the family behind him to the darkness of the forest, which not even the lights of the inferno could fully pierce. As he guided them into the unharmed woods, another explosion boomed in the distance, likely hitting the fields. They had been hit the hardest.
He pointed deep into the woods. “Keep running until you can’t see the flames anymore. The elves will pick you up by morning. Go!”
The beastkin family took off, their twin children being carried by their parents. Jürgen turned back towards the town, and saw the silhouette of John walking to him, his dwarven contraption swaying at his side.
“Jürgen! Was that the last of the Main Street folks?
“Yes!”
John got closer, and Jürgen could see the grimace on his face. “Good. Now that the rest of the civvies have been evacuated, we need to come up with a defensive plan.
Jürgen gaped. “Defensive plan? Against these things? Are you out of your mind, John? I knew you were old, but not crazy!”
John grinned. “This whole thing is crazy! Ya think that we're gonna get anywhere by moaning about how it can’t be done, oooh it’s impossible, oooh I’m lazy!?”
Just then, the loud crack of thunder split the air, louder than the background noise of constant bombardment from the explosive eggs. They looked more like rods, really though. Not eggs.
Jürgen and John looked to their right, and saw a crooked line of blue touch down onto the earth, then ricochet back up at the dark shadow of the Vultures.
That’s a damn good name. Vultures. Yeah, he’ll stick with that.
The Vulture, after being hit, dropped from the sky like a boulder, disappearing beyond the wreckage of buildings.
“I think we just found our crazy idea Jürgen!” John dashed away, moving surprisingly fast for someone his age. Then again, he was John.
Jürgen followed. When they arrived at the source of the lightning, they found a mage with a long staff, covered in vines. He thrust his staff into the air, then when the lightning bolt came down, he flinched, as if taking a blow. Then, he threw the concentrated energy at a passing Vulture, only hitting a glancing blow this time.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
“Hey! You there! Mage boy!” John yelled, before rushing to his side. The mage looked at him in surprise when he spotted the pair.
“Greetings!” The mage yelled back. He was youngish, 30-something. “If you don’t mind, I would appreciate some-” he grunted as he took on another bolt from the clouds. “Help!” He hurled it at a passing shadow, which may or may not have been hit.
“That won’t be a problem, my friend!” John raced to his side. “Do ya got any spare wands for me and my friend here?”
The mage glanced at Jürgen, then nodded roughly. “In my bag! It’s on the ground next to you!”
Jürgen crouched to the ground, digging out a single wand that the mage likely only used as a last resort, when his best weapon, the staff, was unable to be applied. Nevertheless, it was his only option. He gripped it tightly, then snatched a low-quality catalyst out of the bag. He didn’t have any magic, so the catalyst would allow him to use the wand, albeit with reduced efficiency, due to the low quality.
John had no such qualms, however, as he swiped his dwarven weapon (Jürgen called it a dragonstick) from his belt and began unloading on passing Vultures.
“So!” John began, reloading his dragonstick. “How’d ya find yourself in THIS dump, eh?”
The mage coughed out a chuckle. “I used a teleportation spell to get here! I was here to notify the Elvens about some strange developments up North!” The mage heaved another spell at the sky, downing a potion he grabbed from a chest-strap. Likely meant to ward off magic exhaustion.
John looked at the mage. “Really? What kind of developments?” John lowered the gun. Jürgen stopped his meager defense against the Vultures to look at John in horror. Was he stupid? Why was he stopping?
The mage stopped as well, further worrying Jürgen. “Well, I personally haven’t seen any myself, but many beastkin I encountered talk about men of honor going around and freeing slaves.”
Jürgen tried to intervene. “Uh, we have a fight to win? Pay attention for a god's sake!”
The mage continued. “They’ve been labeled with monikers ranking from militias, to soldiers of some knight’s order dedicated to good, to revived spirits sent from above by the beastkin gods to redeem man’s name. However, everyone I’ve spoken to seems to agree on one thing, they all-”
“Uhhhh, John, why aren’t you stopping him! We could die at any moment!”
“Shut up Jürgen! This stories good! Go on, mister mage sir. Apologies for my grandson.”
“I’m not your-”
“-have unorthodox spells! They wield strange magics that revolve around an explosion-propelled object, which flies into the target at high speeds!
Jürgen saw a shadow approaching in the smoke.
“Wow! That sounds awfully, almost suspiciously like this here weapon I possess!”
“Where did you get that thing anyway? It seems dwarven!”
“Well, it ain’t dwarven, that’s for sure! I received this god-given gift when-”
The shadow turned into a Vulture, closing in on the group at high speed. Jürgen watched as a small rod slowly lowered itself from a gap that had just appeared in the belly of the beast. Then, the rod launched itself, and the Vulture pulled up.
“LOOK OUT!” Jürgen screamed.
Both the mage and John looked as the rod streaked towards them, and, almost as if in slow motion, headed straight for the ground beneath the mages feet.
Then, it exploded.
Jürgen landed flat on his back, strangely numb. He looked up at the dark black sky, obscured heavily by gray smoke, but a few stars twinkled hopefully through. Was this the last thing he would see before he died? He could actually see some now, twinkling through a strangely bird shaped cloud of smoke. A large white one, with a stripe in the middle cutting through it. It was beautiful.