“Alright, grass man, I’m kickin’ your ass!”
With those fighting words, Iman ferociously plucked at her mandolin, sending a bending wave of light dancing through the air. The music she played was folksy, with the twang of a traveling band that lived a life of blues. Azim watched as the visible sheet of music spewed from her instrument, flying toward the monster. Despite not really having opinions of anything, Azim was impressed by the nør elf’s musical abilities, listening to her melody with great interest.
The underslug, on the other hand, was not as amused. It tried to swat at the incoming wave with all four of its arms, to little avail. Iman’s musical wave simply cascaded around the thorn-covered creature’s limbs until finally reaching its face. The melody hit the underslug just above its tooth-filled maw, causing the monster to drop its limbs in a weird stance. Iman, Azim, and even Leone and Riva from the carriage paid close attention to how the movements of the underslug slowed, almost to a complete halt. It was as if the creature had completely forgotten what it had been doing, or just fallen asleep.
With her first spell successful, Iman continued her aggressive assault. She shifted the hand that held the neck of her instrument, setting up to play at a new fret. With the change in position, the young nør elf started playing a softer melody, one still with the same southern twang but a slightly deeper tone.
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“Give it to me, give it to me,
Give it to me, girl
Give it to me, give it to me,
Give me the whole world
Give it to me, give it to me,
Give it to me, girl
Give it to me, give it to me,
Give me your whole world...”
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The adventurers watched in wonder as the underslug started to convulse erratically for a few seconds, before reeling back as a strange energy was pulled out from its chest. The energy was a thinly veiled aura, almost transparent with a hint of green. At first, Leone and Riva thought it might be an aroma attack of some kind, but the travelers quickly realized this was not something the underslug was doing consciously. It was merely a consequence of Iman’s song. The translucent green aura wafted through the air, floating toward the young woman until finally entering her chest just as it had left the beast’s. She paused for a moment, closing her eyes and bending forward slightly, taking in the new power she had just received. Iman did not get to do this often because it required her to finish the lyrics of the verse. However, against a giant beast that could not speak, and especially against one that couldn’t move,… well she had nothing to worry about. All she had to do was enjoy her gift. And Viyona did she love it.
Opening her eyes once more, Iman smiled as she felt the influx of power seep through her. Grass giant mana. It was powerful. Why had she never bothered to use this on the creature before? It was a beautiful source to test her words on. She felt her muscles tighten as they were emboldened with new strength. She felt her lungs with every breath as her improved stamina and endurance manifested themselves. And she felt her magic grow as she connected with what once belonged to the ugly thing in front of her. “Aw, gee, I feel great!” She cried.
The young nør elf then rushed forward, charging the giant creature just as Leone had a few minutes ago, only it had not been stunned then. She slid her fingers along the entire neck of the mandolin, playing one long, sharp note. In response, her mandolin was covered in a yellow bubble of light. She then switched her grip on the instrument so that she held it upside down by the neck like a hammer.
“Check it, big guy!” wailed Iman as she slammed the reinforced instrument against the thin leg of the thorny beast.
The leg gave out, causing the monster to drop onto one knee. Following up the attack, Iman spun around to rush the other leg. She tripped for a moment, losing her footing, but quickly regained herself. “Hyah!” She cried as she smashed the other leg back, dropping the underslug onto both its knees and one arm.
By this point, the giant, four-armed creature was starting to come to its senses once more, the effects of the nør elf’s earlier spell wearing off. It noticed that it was now on its knees and stared down at the young woman beating its limbs senseless. In response, the underslug opened its razor-toothed mouth and screamed down at its attacker. Iman, however, would not be scared off. She was already riled up, and there was no extinguishing her fire. “RAHHH!” She screamed back with fiery passion, from all the way down on the ground. “I’m done with this, I’m done here, and I’m done. With. YOU!!”
With these final words, she swung her mandolin back over her head, gripping it with both hands. With a swing just as fierce as her scream, she brought her arms back in front of her and threw her mandolin upward, spinning through the air like a Viking’s axe. The instrument spun widely upward, its yellow field of energy radiating as it sailed, as if the sun was shrunk down into a flying frisbee. She watched in excitement as her weapon-made instrument made its way all the way up to the underslug’s head… and flew right past it.
“NOOO!!” Iman whined, throwing her hands up in the air. “Well, shit.”
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
The reawakened underslug’s four fists all crashed into the ground at the same time. With its composure back and its legs bruised, the monster was even angrier than it had already been, and wanted to put an end to this annoyance as quickly as possible. The dust cloud that formed as a result of the impact was huge, spraying up dirt and weeds amidst the earthy clouds. The mess was so thick that even the underslug could not see what lay waiting at its feet. When the dust finally cleared, however, the creature was met not with satisfaction but confusion. Down at its feet, where the green creature had pummeled the ground, was nothing but dirt.
Lifting its head toward where the rest of the travelers were, the underslug noticed the annoying young woman that had been assaulting it safe and sound, standing next to the thin, armor-covered stranger. Not that the creature could see, but the young nør elf was admittedly just as shocked as the creature, as she had not expected what happened.
She turned around to look at Azim, who stared at her blankly. “How— How did I get back here?” She asked the robot, concerned. “What’d you do, guy?”
The android continued to stare at her with a blank expression, simply saying, “I retrieved you from harm’s way. I do hope that is okay.”
“Well, look who’s rhyming now?” Iman chuckled. “Ever thought about making music of yer’ own?”
“I do not believe I have ever considered the thought, though I will be sure to save the idea,” Azim replied, again in a way that Iman did not fully comprehend.
“Well, alright, then. Oh, and sorry about missing. I totally thought I had that one back there.”
“It is all right. Your actions were impressive, and the emotions that fueled them were understandable. Though I do apologize if I upset you in any way.”
“Aw, nah, don’t worry about it, guy. You’re all right,” assured Iman, gently punching Azim in the shoulder as she spoke.
“Um… Excuse me?” Riva called out from the carriage. “But um, there is still that to deal with.”
Following the woman’s words, the robot and the nør elf both returned their attention to the thorn-covered monster. Iman pulled her lyre from off her hip, telling Azim that if he went in, she could give him a “boost.” Without going into detail why, Azim informed the young woman that it would probably not do him much good. She was confused at the metal man’s comment, as she had boosted knights and other adventurers before.
While her mandolin was more offensive, meant to be used on enemies and monsters to debuff or destabilize them, her lyre was more defensive and supportive. It was to be used on allies or even herself, granting buffs and healing. And with her lyre, she had helped countless travelers pass by this path when dealing with the underslug. While most often she just used her mandolin to put the creature to sleep, or dull it long enough for those passing by to knock it back into its hole, she had, on occasion, favored her lyre instead. She would use the instrument to temporarily strengthen those passing by so they could take down the creature with ease, heal those who were evidently out of their element, or boost their equipment for a cleaner takedown. And many times, she had boosted a traveler’s armor. So why was this guy telling her that her magic wouldn’t offer him anything helpful? She had the experience to say otherwise.
Azim waved his left hand over his right and chanted, “Reforming Alloy.”
Iman observed with astonishment as the metal man’s right hand flashed a bright light, only to look completely different than it had a second ago. Most notably, all of the stranger’s fingers were now wrapped around his disc-like wrist. How the hell had he done that? There’s no way that’s comfortable, Iman thought.
With his hand reformed, Azim simply spun his wrist rapidly, letting his whir in circles with his fingers spinning along the edges. With a little ingenuity, the cloaked robot had turned his right hand into a buzzsaw. “Please be careful,” the android warned the young nør elf. “Getting too close may cause you harm.”
Before she could respond, Aizm sprinted toward the underslug, who had waited long enough for the adventurers and was now stomping toward them. Noticing the metal man charging at it, the creature flicked all four of its arms forward, sending a concentrated stream of thorns directly at Azim. Stopping in his tracks, the robot threw up his spinning right hand and blended the thorny assault coming at him. While his transformed hand did an impressive job at shredding the thorns that came its way, it could not cover enough range to ensure the robot’s safety. Outside the buzzsaw’s circumference, several hundred thorns were still flying past and scratching the metal man’s armor, and Azim could tell any second now they would start to poke through and cause some serious damage.
Assessing the situation, the robot called out to Iman in a loud monotone. “Iman! Please play your melody again!”
“Which one?” She replied, a bit clueless.
“The melody that calmed this creature down!” shouted the robot, not adding even the slightest bit of irritation to his voice.
“OH! Yeah, okay!” acknowledged the nør elf.
Raising her right hand and flexing it, the magem on her hand wrap glowed brightly. Within a second, her mandolin came flying back toward her from out of nowhere, which she caught triumphantly. Leone and Riva watched the sepal with astonishment and confusion. “Alright!” she exclaimed. “Let’s go!”
Plucking at her mandolin once more, a similar yellow wave began to spew from the instrument, dancing through the air just as it had before. The bending light of yellow wavered its way to the thorn-spewing underslug, until finally hitting it in the face just as it had a minute or two ago. The stream of thorns that bombarded Azim began to slow down, until finally not a single one was being fired. The robot looked up to see the giant creature’s arms lowered once more, a sign that Iman’s spell had worked. With no pressure on him to defend, Azim charged forward once more toward the stunned beast.
With a hearty jump, Azim whirred his right hand and thrust it forward, plunging it right through the bright green creature’s abdomen and popping out the other side. As Azim fell, he found himself in a trajectory that would land him in the hole the underslug had sprawled out of. Taking immediate action, the robot dug his spinning hand into a wall of the hole, catching himself and stopping his fall. He pulled himself back out with his left hand, just in time to see the giant, thorny creature fall backward into the hole he had just crawled himself out of. The sign sticking out of its head snapped off as the falling monster’s body scraped against the inner walls of the hole.
Looking across the way, Azim saw the other adventurers staring at him in awe, utterly impressed by what he had just pulled off. Iman, by the whole display, but Riva and Leone, mostly by the transformation of himself. So far, the android had only repaired himself from damage and attached an inanimate object to himself. But this… this was new. He had performed a new kind of self-affecting magic, and they were ecstatic. Azim returned his hand to normal as he walked around the hole and back toward Iman. “What shall we do now?” the robot asked, not worried about any of the other adventurers’ open mouths.