I raise my bow and take aim. As the first lizog is silhouetted against the light, I fire. It’s not ideal to be shooting into the light, but the advantage is that the lizog probably can’t see me as well as I can see it. My practice with the bow over the last few days is really paying off: I hit it in its throat as it lifts its head to sniff the air. That by itself is a bad wound, my strength, the bow’s power, and the short distance all contributing to the arrow digging in deeply.

Still, it’s not enough to finish the creature off, especially considering the arrow has stuck in there and is plugging the hole. Fortunately, I’m not relying on creating lethal wounds. The poison River made while I was watching and afterwards carefully applied to each of my arrowheads is no doubt already running through the lizog’s blood. Adrenaline is certainly running through mine, banishing tiredness. I see in the alertness of my companions that they’re experiencing the same sensations. We’ll probably pay for it later, but hopefully the bill will come due when we’re somewhere safe enough to rest.

For now, though, we’ve got incoming threats. The reptilian pit bull isn’t willing to stand there and wait for death, instead running towards us with a menacing rumble. I don’t pay too much attention to that: close quarters is my companions’ concern right now. The next lizog has appeared as a silhouette and I fire again.

The number of lizogs multiply, pouring into the tunnel quicker than I can shoot them. Setting my teeth, I do my best to keep up, though privilege accuracy over speed when I have to choose – my job is to get as many of them affected by the poison as early as possible. When I have a moment, I dart a glance at my companions.

River is the second damage dealer. He’s standing behind our rocky barricade, and is stabbing down at the lizogs with a spear that’s also got a coating of poison. Bastet is prowling back and forth. Without any external weapon to coat with the stamina-damaging poison, her job is as final defence if any of the lizogs get through the barricade. Which is likely, I admit.

The rubble wall is working very well, but there’s a section where the rocks are smaller, offering more of a slope than a wall. We’d noticed that before the fight started and had taken preparatory measures. When one lizog realises that there might be a route up to us via the slope, I put these into action.

Picking my burning torch up from where it’s smouldering behind me, I quickly lean over to touch it to the stones. The salamander’s explosive liquid quickly lights, badly burning the lizog and making it immediately turn tail. It tries to bury itself among the other lizogs, but, in a happy accident, it appears to have got some of the liquid on its body. Where it rubs this off onto its pack-mates, they light on fire too, hissing and yelping.

The fire doesn’t last long, and doesn’t actually do much damage apart from to the first lizog – it’s just too diluted once it’s rubbed onto others. However, it does cause a fair bit of disturbance, allowing River to keep stabbing, and me to continue firing arrows. I doubt I’ll get the chance to renew the salamander oil, though, so it’s only a matter of time before another lizog summons up the courage to try the slope again.

With the poison, however, time is on our side. Sort of. We’ve also got our own effective time limit based on how long we can keep running on fumes. But either way, having the lizogs take a bit of time to manage to find a way over the wall is better than having them already tearing our legs to bits. Plus, if they try to bite through and break their teeth on the stone, all the better.

Eventually, it seems like all the lizogs have joined the fight: no new one has appeared in the last few seconds. I use up the rest of my arrows by shooting at the lizogs in the middle – ones which are pressing their pack-mates forwards, but are not actually in range of River’s spear. It’s not long before I run out of arrows: there must be at least fifteen of the reptilian dogs here and neither of us have really made any kills yet. Not that we need to right now, but obviously, the fewer lizogs threatening us, the better.

Taking a step back, I lean down to grab my own spear, a makeshift one I quickly created by sharpening a bit of firewood. It wasn’t in my Inventory because I wasn’t sure whether putting it there would do something to the poison on the wooden head. As we were already low on the stuff with the number of weapons we needed to coat, I didn’t want to risk wasting some by testing it. Still, it’s barely an interruption to the flow of battle, and I needed to put my bow down anyway.

Stepping back up to the barricade, I start stabbing alongside the lizard-man. The difference between our physical stats is far too obvious: River’s strikes pierce the lizogs’ bodies with relative ease; mine struggle to make it through their toughened, armoured skin. Of course, it could also be partly to do with the fact that he’s got a proper flint head to his, where I’ve just essentially got a sharpened stick. But since I was providing ranged support at the beginning, we decided that it would make sense for him to keep the better spear.

On the other hand, my increased mental stats seem to help me in identifying where to strike to have the most effect. Actually hitting the spot dead on is another question; I think I need to gain more points in Dexterity to improve that. Pushing questions about stats to one side, I lose myself in the river of bodies ahead of me. Honestly, the way the little light in here reflects off their dark scales really does make it look like water.

I’m broken out of my focus when a searing pain shoots up my leg. A lizog has managed to find another way through, perhaps clambering over another set of rocks, and is crushing my leg. At least, it’s attempting to crush it – while the teeth are sinking in, they aren’t crunching through my bone as both of us would have expected. For a moment the lizog and I stare at each other. The lizog looks baffled: it seems to be saying this usually works. With gallows humour, I think back at it: well, performance issues…

The moment breaks, and the lizog tries to double-down on its attempt to bite my leg off. I bring my spear up and, with it this close, I’m able to line up a perfect angle to pierce through its eye and into its brain in a single, brutal shove. Even as the light dies in its eyes, its teeth hold on tightly. Dropping my spear for a moment, I grip its jaws with both hands and pull hard.

For a moment, its jaws don’t shift and I’m worried that I’m going to have to continue fighting with teeth deep in my calf. Then, as desperation increases the strength I use to a level I didn’t realise was possible, there’s a small movement. Not daring to let up for a moment, I strain, my face probably going as red as a tomato; I probably look particularly constipated, too. Suddenly, there’s a crack and the lizog jaws go limp.

The deep bite in my calf is painful. Before my recent experiences, I might have called it agonising, but I find my definition of agony has changed. The lizog didn’t succeed in biting through my bone, but it certainly reached it with its teeth. Blood is pouring out of the wounds; I need to heal. Crouching down, I put my hands around the wound, ignoring the pain of my touch. With the pressure, the blood isn’t pouring out in the same way, but I can’t hold back a flood with my hands alone. I reach for Lay-on-hands, a sense of urgency building.

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I know that the last time I tried this, it didn’t work, but perhaps it’s healed a bit? My hopes are high, but for naught. The first attempt I make at grabbing for some mana, I have to abandon as an awful pain shoots through me, worse even than the agony radiating up from my leg. If my new pain management Skill is doing anything, I can’t tell. I don’t want to touch that shattered glass vase again, but I have no choice. My body might be sturdy enough that lizogs can’t just bite through it now, but I’m not invulnerable. My health bar, already not in a great shape, is decreasing even further as my blood pumps out of my body. I need to heal.

Gritting my teeth, I go slower, clumsily attempting to pull mana out of my Core manually, rather than using the automatic function of the spell. It’s the equivalent of using a finger and thumb to tease out some mana, rather than reaching in with my fist the way I was before. It still hurts, but less so. More like the hands around my leg that are holding in my blood than the teeth that ripped it apart. Excruciatingly slowly, I pull out a thread of mana and redirect it down my leg. Commanding it to heal flesh and replenish blood, I’m relieved when it does just that.

It’s painful, and the more mana that leaves my reserve, the more agonising it becomes. I can’t help but remember that most pain is a warning from the body: pushing past pain often means causing more damage to one’s body. I stop directing mana as soon as my health bar stabilises. I’m not healed, not even close to it. But it will have to do.

Panting, I open my eyes and access my Inventory to pull another half-torn shirt out. Wrapping it around my wound, I – hopefully – stop it from breaking open again as I move. Standing up, I bring my spear back to a ready position, but fortunately there are no lizogs right by me.

Scanning the action, I look for anything that has changed since I was bitten. Bastet’s grappling with a lizog. She seems to be doing fine, though is using her body to block another attacker on the previously attempted slope. Now that we’ve used up the salamander oil I’d splashed onto it earlier, it’s her job to guard the area. She must have accidentally let one through, or maybe one slipped past where she’s fighting. Fortunately, it seems that the narrow passageway is still limiting their numbers, so she isn’t being overwhelmed. Yet, anyway.

River’s stabbing away steadily, and the lizogs in front of him are looking rather worse for wear. There are fewer lizogs in general. The light doesn’t let me get a good headcount, but I reckon that we must have cut the numbers in half already. I shift over to Bastet’s area to help her out. Not wanting my other leg to get shredded too, I keep a little bit of distance from them, using the barricade to shield myself. Unfortunately, they seem to have realised that this is the only way through to us, so the pressure of the lizogs behind is pushing the front one forward, even as we block it. Soon they’re gaining ground on us and I’m trading attacks with one while Bastet is fighting another.

Was that poison a dud? I wonder as I dodge the lunging bites of the lizog, while at the same time trying to pin it with my spear. Maybe I should switch to my mace: I don’t see any sort of stamina deprivation. It’s soon after I think that when I start to see the poison’s effects. The lizog I’m fighting suddenly starts slowing down, its attacks becoming more sluggish, its dodges less effective. I quickly find an opening and down it with a stab through its throat.

Returning to the barricade, I see that the remaining lizogs are also starting to show the effects, the ones on the business-end of River’s spear particularly effective. Perhaps it just takes a bit of time for the poison to accumulate to the point where it’s overwhelming the lizogs’ natural stamina regeneration. It wouldn’t surprise me if they were powerhouses in that stat, along with Constitution. When the area in front of his section goes still, we both converge on the last two fighting Bastet. They’re less impacted by the poison since they’ve probably only had a couple of wounds from poisoned weapons: for obvious reasons, we couldn’t coat Bastet’s claws.

Finally, the battlefield goes quiet except for the sound of our panting. All three of us are breathing heavily, Bastet particularly so. She’s exhausted – I can see by the drooping of her wings as she hangs her head.

Rest, I tell her tiredly. She’s been the most active of all of us and needs a break. She eyes me, asking for meat. I grab a carcass out of my Inventory and drop it for all and sundry to eat – I’ll need to check with River whether we can eat the meat of the lizogs without being poisoned ourselves. The raptorcat tears off a big chunk of meat, then slumps back along the tunnel to join Lathani and the cubs. This time Lathani hadn’t protested against being stuck guarding the cubs: she’s as tired as the rest of us. She accepted that we needed someone there to keep the cubs safe in case a lizog broke through our battle-line without argument. Of course, a large part of my motivation was also returning Lathani to her mother with all limbs intact, but I didn’t tell her that.

In appreciation of both Bastet’s and Lathani’s efforts, I move the rest of the killer-chicken corpse closer to the little group so that they can eat freely. As for River and I, we start tiredly clearing up, collecting as many of my arrows as we can. We can’t stay here very long: all the blood and gore will attract other predators. Still, no point in leaving so many potentially useful corpses around. If they’re safe, that is.

Will these be safe to eat? I check with my Bound as I approach one of the bodies.

Yes. We usually use this poison for hunting. The poison quickly loses potency once its prey is dead. That makes sense. Satisfied with the answer, I start to pile lizog corpses into my Inventory. As I’m doing it, another thought occurs.

Remind me again why we didn’t use this poison on the salamander? He pauses what he’s doing to look at me steadily.

I did. I took a moment to coat my weapon with the last of my pre-prepared poison before we engaged in battle. My eyes go wide and I stop to stare at him.

The salamander was that powerful? I hadn’t noticed any easily discernible effects on the massive creature, not like I’d seen with these lizogs. River shrugs.

It had an Energy-Heart. I wasn’t surprised that a few doses of it weren’t enough to make much difference. Large creatures are already harder to take down, and ones with Energy-Hearts even more so.

No kidding, I remark, turning back to my task. It makes me wonder just how much poison Kalanthia must have been stabbed with to have the effect on her it did. Then again, maybe it was the stronger version of the poison which River doesn’t have with him. I simply can’t believe that Kalanthia doesn’t have an Energy-Heart, considering her clear power and ability to use magic.

Trying to put a lizog body into my Inventory, my eyebrows knit together when it doesn’t work. Checking my Inventory, my frown deepens. It can’t be due to lack of space – since all those level-ups, I’ve got more slots available than seem possible to use. Looking at the lizog’s eyes, I realise the issue.

The lizog isn’t dead.