His two arms stretched to grasp the cliff wall. His one good leg bridging the gap to the opposite side. His one useless stump jiggling into the empty air. One wooden monster up there at the edge, flailing its longest roots downward, slim and wormy white. One stone dynamo, glowing purple, stuck to a dagger, stabbing the mineralized bark, shouting, “stab, stab, stab.”
And they called this a game. Roots crawled over him, grabbing at random, coiling loops after loops. One went into his nostril. One scratched his eye. He bit the one coming for his mouth. It tasted of iron, wooden fiber and dirt. Enoch spat, wiggled, raged. Hanged as a drying ham.
The explosion again. The spike again. [-1 Health]. Direct hit to his duffel bag, of course. The force turned him into a V, almost broke his back, definitely broke his spirit.
He lost his holds under the impact. The roots held him in place, began to snap. One of his hand grabbed back the tiny nook, fumbling blind – no time to look. One foot there, on that micro ledge. Last hand straight to the rock wall, pushing for traction. Stable once more.
The whole time, the soundtrack continued with a chill wave. It was, after all, an easy fight and his Health was over a hundred.
“Alright, you dumb, brainless, instinct programmed, hardened twig. You want my cargo? You’ll get my cargo.”
“Choo, stop the useless poke and come here.”
The artifact dropped his dagger over the edge. Swish. Two inches in any other direction and it would have stabbed Enoch on the way down. Luckily, the blade bounced uselessly on his bag.
“Leave my backpack alone.”
“Understood, master.”
“Never mind, you’re going in. You have some Intellect, right? One point should be enough. Go in there and use Animate Object on a wand.”
“But master, we don’t know what type –”
A root closed around his neck, he continued, half choked from strangulation, half choked from hanger, face twice as red, “no one cares, just animated it, point it at the stump and activate it. It should at least do something.”
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Purple lights danced around him, loosened the bag’s drawstring. Choo went it, foraged around, said, “there’s broken pieces of glass in there.”
“I know, just get the wand.” His lips were blue. He knew it just from the feeling. Engorged and numbed. He started growling.
The bag jiggled, things moved about, pushed his ribs, poked his kidney.
“Just get the wand out.”
Choo came out with the whole bundle which immediately fell, spread and bounced like dropped spaghettis. The purple core caught one, stuck to hit.
About damn time. The little guy flew up in a spiral, announced his charge to the classic, “Choo Choo!”
Of all things, the chat popped in his interface.
“He looks like a grape.”
“Hangs in there, I know you can do it.” Tip | 40$
“Look at his face, look at it.”
The ravine lit up as the surface of the sun. [-44 Health]. A deafening blast elbowed Enoch straight to the bottom of the pit. The grasping roots ripped. His own tenuous holds irrelevant. Back bent the wrong way again. Legs and arms wiggling behind him from the speed. And the ground, searing white, dove up to meet him.
[-34 Health]. Fall damage. Mineralized barks, wood chips and whole chunks of rock rained on him. The catchy tune played. Lights encircled him. Level up.
He waited two second, ear ringing, tried to turn on his back. Stuck sideway, duffel bag in the way.
Enoch raged, flapped as a beached dolphin, tried to flail his way out of his of bag, realized that it was pinned to his gambeson. He reached around, strained against the two spikes.
“Woo hoo,” said Choo Choo as he came down.
Annoyance oozed out of Enoch, icy cold, “Drop the wand.”
“Why, it vaporised the bad tree.”
“Drop it immediately.”
The core bobbed, dropped the wand, made a loop and said, “Did you see that? The monster exploded it a thousand pieces.”
“Kind of, I saw the after glow, parts of it anyway. What was that?”
“It’s a wand of Artillery Fire, military grade.”
“I’m carrying a bundle of Artillery wands?”
He shook his head in denial. Strained once more, freed one spike. The other one stayed stuck. Enoch took a mental pause, chat scrolling widely, unread. He didn’t move, didn’t think. Choo Choo rolled in the air, probably talking.
Nothing came through. Blank mind. And then a spark of awareness. The bitter trio had probably noticed the explosion. He rolled on his stomach, got on all four and removed his armor. He gathered his belongings, asked Choo to pick up whatever was left up the ravine. He managed to dislodge the last spike. Opened his bag. Incredibly, the remaining potions and alcohol bottles were intact.
He tied the arms of his shredded gambeson, used it as an awkward bag and filled it with the biggest pieces of mineralized wood he could find. Valuable stuff. He stopped a few awkward strides in, holding a big chuck and said, “Master core, it’s time for a little crafting.”