A spear thudded and sunk deep into the wood of the porch beside TJ’s head. He remembered how much he’d struggled to catch the first pukwudgies he’d fought, and with a thought, pulled his Status Sheet up while still dodging the three pukwudgies’ attacks. One spear struck home in the center of his body as he made the decision without thinking further about it.

Status Sheet

Name: TJ (Thiago Jorge) Harris IV

Race: Coatl – lvl 5

Class: Neophyte lvl 5

Occupation: Savage lvl 5

Level of Divinity: Dirt (0)

Divine Bloodline: Kukulkan

Health Points (HP): 764/800

Mana Points (MP): 220/220

Stamina: 740/740

Attributes

Strength x2: 42

Agility x1.5: 24

Endurance x2: 74

Vitality x2: 80

Toughness x2: 66

Wisdom: 23

Intelligence: 22

Perception x1.5: 39

Willpower: 34

Fixation: 26

Free Points: 6

Skill List: Hidden

Titles: Irregular

He still wanted to hold on to the Free Points for some other opportunity, but this was just one of the times when he’d need to commit them. Four points put in Agility became six as a coatl, and took his total to 30. A surge of electricity tickled TJ’s mind, and he twisted his neck in such a way that the next spear’s thrust rolled off the thick feathers in his mane. He was too slow to dodge the next attack, but between his heightened Toughness and Vitality, taking a solid blow from a spear was a mere flesh wound.

A flashing reminder that he had a Skill to choose refused to leave him alone. TJ ignored it, snapping his jaws at one of the blurry creatures. With his heightened perception, he could see some of them, but others had a more advanced camouflage. Level 5 benefit? Maybe. Didn’t matter why. The three attackers had doubled to six, and TJ forced himself entirely out of the bounds of the cabin. Then, with the weird inhale he’d done before, TJ pulled the closest two pukwudgies off balance as his tail whipped around. It smashed through one’s legs and the other’s ribs alike, the chorus of wet crunching of bones snapping mixing with the pained pukwudgie screeches filling the air.

Before TJ could do something to finish off the crippled foes, two more dropped their camouflage and lunged forward. Forced to pull back or risk his eyes, the last two goblinoids pulled their felled companions out of his immediate reach. The injured out of his reach, the two visible ones retreated a step and re-camouflaged themselves. TJ hissed his anger, unable to kill any of the enemies, and he could taste more in the area, though he couldn’t say exactly where they were.

“You done in there?” TJ demanded. “I can’t take this many, and there’s more coming!”

The quiet cough of a low caliber bullet answered him. Another pukwudgie screech rang out and one of the four assaulting TJ stopped whatever was masking its presence. Its dominant arm bled, the spear clattering from insensate fingers to the wood porch. The other three redoubled their assault, no longer seeking to wound TJ himself. Instead, they leapt over him, trying to get to the dangerous Stanton inside. TJ puffed and coiled himself up in front of the doorway, but two of the three were too quick.

A quick bite caught the straggler, and TJ worked his jaw furiously, his long sharp teeth shredding through the distended stomach of the pukwudgie. Its thick fur prickled the top of his mouth while its blood and screams both flowed freely out. TJ whipped it up and down, and its spine snapped with another sickening crunch. There was no time to acknowledge the death notification. The two wounded behind him were unimportant. Two pukwudgies lunged at Stanton, their spears unseen but still deadly.

The old man, however, stood with a faintly glowing pistol held in both hands. In a practiced, shoulder-width stance, he lined the shot. Again, the surprisingly quiet sound of a .22 being fired barked out, and one of the hidden assailants dropped into visibility and to the ground. A puddle of blood began pooling beneath the corpse as another death notification went unheeded.

“I’m out!” Stanton shouted, and TJ lunged towards the still-standing pukwudgie. It still rushed towards Stanton, but TJ’s jaws caught its leg. It screeched and struck down with all its strength to put out TJ’s eye. He ripped his head back without releasing the leg, and the diminutive creature’s strike skittered off TJ’s scales between his eyes. The coatl didn’t hesitate to smash the pukwudgie against the tiled floor, the sound of a wet splatter accompanying the cracking of flooring.

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Another death notification, and TJ began to calm himself. His tail being pinned to the floor with a spear through it convinced him otherwise. He screamed a hiss at the offending pukwudgie and slithered back out the door. The two injured pukwudgies were nowhere to be seen, but at least another ten had appeared and TJ could see the different varieties. Some were nearly invisible, even to his enhanced smelling/taste while others were easily visible and bulkier than the rest.

“I’ll hold the door!” TJ shouted to Stanton. “You have any more bullets?”

“Takes me ten seconds for each one!”

“Shit!” TJ cursed as he coiled himself in the doorway. To do so, he needed to break the spear through his tail, and doing so hurt like hell. Even so, he needed to hold the line. A dozen goblins fought to kill him, and it would be nearly impossible to escape at this point. He and Stanton needed to kill them all or drive them off. He glanced at his HP: 642/800. Though the injury in his tail was agonizing, it wasn’t going to kill him. Yet.

With his new goal being to keep pukwudgies out of the house without sustaining too many wounds, TJ hissed menacingly while lunging out, never committing himself. That worked for only a moment, before the two burly ones jumped forward and wrapped their arms around his mouth to keep it closed. He whipped his head back and forth, trying to dislodge them, but to no immediate success. Their combined weight proved too much for TJ to meaningfully smash them against anything. The others began stabbing him repeatedly with their spears, most unable to pierce deeply. Several, though, plunged halfway through him with each strike, and TJ felt how close death was.

In a flash of desperation, TJ disabled Divine Transformation, becoming a naked human surrounded by a dozen furious floral-scented goblins. Those stabbing at his tail missed their next lunge, their spears thunking into the wooden porch and walls. The two holding his mouth shut were sturdily held onto TJ’s head, and all twelve of the attackers looked at TJ with just a moment’s hesitation. In the silence and brief peace, Stanton’s gun fired once again. One of the big ones on TJ, the one he’d been making eye contact with, dropped without another word as its eye exploded. Eleven left.

The peace broken, TJ grabbed the remaining large pukwudgie’s hands and tried to wrest it from his head. It was surprisingly strong, and as it smashed its arms together to retain hold of his head, TJ’s vision swam. With a thought, he reactivated Divine Transformation and as a coatl, wasn’t nearly so threatened by the crushing force of a pukwudgie hug. Now that only one held him, TJ wielded his head and the little grappler together as a club, managing to catch one of the slower goblins with the destructive force. It went tumbling ass over teakettle down the stairs, taking another with it. They’d be back soon. Nine still on the porch.

With a stifled roar from his mostly closed mouth, TJ smashed his head against the nearby window. With an explosion of glass, the window shattered, and the grappling pukwudgie groaned in pain. Dimly, TJ felt a flurry of attacks against his torso, but couldn’t care about that now. Beyond that, he wasn’t finished with the nuisance, and smashed it again into the remaining glass shards in the panes. The death notification was reassuring, and its weight dropping from his face was glorious. Ten alive, eight attacking him.

Now freed, TJ drunkenly lurched to the side and towards the remaining pukwudgies. They dodged in, attempting to strike hom, but TJ heard Stanton’s voice from the window. “Duck.”

He didn’t hesitate, his jaw smashing against the wood as the full weight of most of his body smashed a pukwudgie to the ground beneath him. Two shots of Stanton’s pistol sounded out, and one of the little bastards went down with a death notification. The other spun out of its camouflage, a heavy wound wetting its lightly furred chest. Nine living, six left in the fight. A quick glance told TJ that his HP was at 298/800, and he’d disregarded his Moderate Bleed Affliction notification as well. This would be close, but he could feel the relative closeness of the next level. That could sustain him to the end of the fight.

Pure animalistic aggression and rage drove TJ as he whipped his mouth down and decapitated the pukwudgie below him with one bite. Still no level notification, without healing, there was no option left but to leap out of his coiled position to attack the pukwudgies. Those that he suspected were Level 5 were the first targets. They lunged in, trying either to kill or slow him down. The crazed coatl couldn’t give them the opportunity to escape. His jaws flashed again and again, biting whatever flesh he could find while his deeply wounded tail lashed out. One fell to his maddened assault, and the .22 coughed out another bullet. Two death notifications. No level.

TJ’s tongue flicked wildly out of his mouth, tasting the trail of the wounded. Two from his initial defense, and an additional one was severely wounded. His HP continued to tick down as TJ raced to find them. The first’s skull was crushed under his tail. No level. The second and third ran together, and he struck out and managed to trip both. He constricted wildly, his muscles tightening with agony and necessity alike. With a sickening pop, their necks broke, and TJ received the blessed notification.

12 Pukwudgies, Level 3-6, slain. Experience gained.

Class: Neophyte has advanced to level 6.

Attribute points allocated: Endurance +3, Vitality +3, Toughness +2, Wisdom +1, Intelligence +1, Perception +1, Willpower +2, Fixation +2, Free Points +1. Additional Free Points currently available. Skill selection available.

Even with the healing and revitalization provided by leveling up, exhaustion had settled into TJ’s bones. With a low grumble, he turned and began slithering back to the cabin, passing the strewn bodies of a dozen pukwudgies as he did so. The little creatures, now dead and unthreatening, were almost cute in a troll doll way, and the reality of what he’d done, of what had happened in the past half hour, settled into TJ’s bones. Bile fought to choke him and he knew he’d have vomited were he in his human form, but the coatl was more hesitant to puke.

As his body flowed smoothly up the steps towards the cabin’s door, TJ finally saw his body. Blood and gore coated him, the remains of a dozen thinking creatures splattered over every scale and tied together with the remnants of his agonizing stand. The smell and taste of his struggle soured his throat even more, and with a heave of his body, TJ whipped his head around and vomited blood and bile over the side of the porch. And again. And again.

Nothing came up as his body wrenched again, and TJ’s Divine Transformation dropped, leaving him naked and filthy and miserable.

“Come in, kid.” Stanton’s voice called, soft. “Let’s get you cleaned up, then we can talk about all this. And, what we’ll do next.”