Chapter 24

In the aftermath of the gathering and Seven’s ambush, the village slowly began putting things back together. Roden, Errrkkkk, and Riakon did what they could to help fix up the house of the ancestors, but the damage done from their fight was going to take much longer to fix than a single afternoon.

Riakon was quieter than usual, still clearly reeling from his encounter with Tiamat. Helping around the camp seemed to do him some good, but Errrkkkk and Roden had decided it was best to get him back to Coastall. When they told Mu’tumbo of their plan, he agreed that a change of scenery was in Riakon’s best interest.

“No be strangers now, com by anytime.” he said as they said their goodbyes.

By the time they made it out of the trees and back on the meadows of the Green Sea, Riakon was already looking a little better. They set up camp in their usual place by the bank of the Wild’s river. Roden would still place his wards, but now he also had the added job of conjuring their treehouse. While Roden was busy, Errrkkkk did his best to get Riakon’s mind off of his troubles with some light sparring.

In terms of hand to hand combat, Errrkkkkk’s skill was far superior. However, with his hammer Riakon was the epitome of a knockout artist. Their fight was a contrast of two styles. Errrkkkk would dart inside Riakon’s guard and deliver rapid punches before darting back out of his range. While Riakon would try to anticipate Errrkkkk’s rushes and counter with a big shot from his hammer. For every two hits Errrkkkk would land, Riakon would follow up with a strike of his own.

Roden watched from the sidelines with Grok, who was riveted by the action. His eyes were glued to the exchange between the two men. Roden had to admit it was pretty cool to sit and watch these two trained warriors go at it. They clearly had done this often and knew each other's tricks and traps. Before coming to this world Roden wasn’t much of a fighter. He hadn’t been in anything that could really count as a fight since High School.

He had learned some things and had dabbled in a lot of different martial arts, but rarely found himself actually having to fight. The thing that all that training had done was give him confidence and an appreciation of being able to fight if necessary. His past experiences allowed him to follow these two. The interesting thing to him was how much his magic had changed him.

All of his conjured weapons granted him a different insight into fighting. His Flame blade instilled a philosophy of fighting that took advantage of the fact he was using a weapon made of fire. It emphasized quick cuts and powerful thrusts reminiscent of fencing. If Roden was being honest, every time the weapon formed in his hand he thought of Count Dooku from episode two when he dismantled Anakin and Obi-wan.

His other sword was a different story. Rather than instilling him with forms and a particular fighting style, it granted him the instincts of a warrior. It made it so his body would move and adjust as needed on the fly.

It was a strange feeling to have something directing his movements and influencing his decisions. It was a shocking discovery for him as those effects were not part of Adventures and Antics. They were just spells that had an effect, no more no less.

It wasn’t terribly necessary for a player to consider how the spell took someone with minimal weapon experience and made them more effective than a seasoned fighter. Yet, here he was a full blown caster with a skill set that required him to get up close and personal.

The benefit of that was now he could watch these two and keep up with their movements. He had used the spells enough that their influence was bleeding into his skills even when the weapons weren’t active. Their sparring session grew more intense and had Grok and all fours, his excitement no longer able to be contained by sitting.

Errrkkkk’s speed was difficult to follow so Roden cast Immediate Focus. His improved sense caught something interesting amidst the exchange. Errrkkkk had set up a devastating combination.

He fainted a low kick, which caused Riakon to block low then twist to counter with a power shot. However, Errrkkkk was way ahead of him. He had leapt into the air and rotated himself around. He used his wings to generate more and more torque as he brought his kick careening towards Riakon’s head.

With Roden’s enhanced vision he could tell it was over. Errrkkkk was too fast, his kick would be devastating. It would disrupt Riakon’s strike and leave him vulnerable to a finishing combination. Except, at the last second Errrkkkk pulled back ever so slightly. His kick just grazed Riakon’s cheek. Errrkkkk continued to rotate and spun directly into Riakon’s hammer blow. Riakon’s attack sent him sprawling across the ground.

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“Okay, you got me. I yield, cacaw.”

Riakon and Grok both let out shouts of victory. Before Riakon helped Errrkkkk to his feet.

“It was a great fight brother, you just missed on that kick.”

“Yeah, it was close, cacaw.” Roden could just make out the tiniest hint of deception in Errrkkkk’s voice. Roden knew in that moment his suspicion was correct. Errrkkkk had let Riakon get the best of him.

Roden had to admit, perhaps it was for the best. Riakon hadn’t been himself since the gathering and his encounter with his mother. A little boost to the ego would do him some good.

“Hey Roden, spar with me.”

Roden was taken off guard and could only manage a bewildered “What?”

“Yeah, Errrkkkk and I got some practice in. It’ll be good for ya.”

“Oh ummmm I don’t know, I’m more of a ranged guy.”

“Nonsense, I see you out there with your swords. I want to see what you can do for myself.”

Roden knew he was cooked. There was no way out of this. “Okay, okay as long as you’re alright with me using my swords.”

“Sure, it's only fair.”

Roden pulled out one of his hunks of wood from the last time they were at this camp and conjured his Grove Armor. It spread across him, the helmet formed seconds later obscuring his vision. He flipped open the visor and saw Riakon take his stance.

“To Arms.” Roden’s golden sword sprang into existence in the air to his right blade down. He grabbed the hilt and twirled the weapon around before bringing it up to a guard position. Man he loved magic.

“Fancy, but can you hold up to years of training?”

“Begin, cacaw!”

Riakon charged at Errrkkkk’s signal. Roden waited until Riakon raised his hammer then he dove to the ground to Riakon’s left. He rolled when he hit the ground and popped up on the other side of Riakon. He was facing away from his attacker so he twisted and swung his blade in a wide looping attack. Riakon used the momentum of his swing to spin himself around and caught the blade on the shaft of his hammer.

“Good move there.”

Roden knew he couldn’t win a war of attrition with Riakon. That would be playing into the Dragonkin’s game. Roden felt like his only chance at a win was to flurry and hope he could overwhelm an already tired Riakon.

Unfortunately, he had chosen the wrong weapon for the job. His golden sword was heavy compared to his Flame blade. It made his style a little more knight of the round table and less Inigo Montoya. This afforded Riakon enough time to begin an assault of his own.

Their swings met in the middle. Each man attacking and defending at the same time. Riakon would expertly block his sword with a swing of his hammer and then close the distance for a follow up before Roden could get his footing.

Luckily, for Roden his sword wasn’t just a sword. On one such exchange, Roden tossed his blade forward when Riakon blocked. It sailed behind Riakon out of reach, he then drew it back towards him with a thought. A smug grin had spread across Riakon’s face as he went to deliver a power shot that was interrupted by the sword jamming itself in his right shoulder from behind.

“Oww” Riakon said flatly, “You’re going to heal that later.”

Before Roden could answer, Riakon pulled himself off of the blade directly into another attack. Without a weapon to guard himself, Riakon was able to batter Roden’s armor. Roden did his best to fade with the blows so he didn’t take the full force, but even still they were enough to crack his layer of wooden protection.

Riakon was taking advantage of his weaponless opponent. He poured everything into a series of powerful strikes. He knew the next hit was going to be the finisher. He had used a downward strike, he was sure would most likely miss to build up an unstoppable amount of momentum.

His hammer was cutting through the air at such a rapid speed Riakon had to lean away from the hammer’s head in order to maintain his balance. He had planned it perfectly.

Roden was right where he wanted him and the attack would shatter his breastplate ending the contest. Just before the attack connected, Roden vanished, Riakon’s swing cut through the faint shimmering image left behind by his teleportation spell.

Riakon whirled around, frustration and dismay all over his face “Hey no spells!”

Roden allowed his armor to recede back down his body to reform into the disc of wood he used for the ability’s activation “Oh I know, I yield. There was no way in hell I was going to eat that attack.”

A grin spread on Riakon’s face “Haha fair enough.”

Roden went to take a seat next to Errrkkkk, when Grok trotted out and stood opposite Riakon as both men had done before. Despite the teeth and claws, Grok was adorable and he was too smart for his own good. Roden had a suspicion the garg knew they wouldn’t let him fight for real, but he suspected the garg also knew they couldn’t deny him if he did it just right. The sight of Grok on all fours crouched with his game face on, ready to pounce was too much for Riakon to ignore.

“Okay okay little guy. We can wrestle.”

The garg let out a squeal of delight and bounded at Riakon. The two tussled, Riakon being way too big for it to be a fair fight. Grok was growing rapidly, but was still only a few months old, but was gaining a pound or two a day depending entirely on how much food he could get out of Riakon. Even in the last week he was noticeably longer and was starting to spend more time crouched on his back feet than on all fours.

By Roden’s estimation Grok was probably around four months old. If he remembered his notes correctly, gargs were fully grown around a year, but were considered mature around six months. It felt crazy for him to think this ball of fur the size of a large dog would be standing nearly five feet in just a couple months. The impromptu wrestling match was entertaining to say the least. Grok was a handful, but actually followed the unwritten rules of sparing. He never clawed at Riakon’s face or bit sensitive areas.

As Riakon tired, he had decided to let the garg win, but just as he was about to feign defeat the garg rolled over belly up and let his tongue hang out. Roden wasn’t positive, but he had a feeling Grok knew what he was doing. He had watched the other two fights and had seen what the others did.

Errrkkkk gave Riakon the win in the only way he could. Roden had given him the win by disqualifying himself. Now here was Grok, giving up in the face of a staged victory. Errrkkkk and Roden could only laugh at the situation and the dumbfounded look on Riakon’s face.

It was a truly sweet moment between the garg and his chosen savior, Grok had known what his friend needed and had supplied it in his own way. Roden was positive, that little guy was too smart for his own good.