The Thrall spins its head around to glare at me, as though not believing I managed to dodge. If I had a weapon, I could have fought back, but without one I was limited to just dodging and hoping one of the others could do something. Thinking fast, I ripped the concepts from the dirt and grass around me, quickly shaping a very rough shield to defend with. A large pit appeared in front of the Thrall's charge, the edges already crumbling as it falls into it with a horrific shriek. I [Inspect] the shield quickly as I see a clawed hand grasp the edge of the pit.

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Golemic Bulwark

A hastily forged shield created from the very earth itself, it will refine itself over time to reach its full potential.

Can bind itself to a person, moving to protect them on its own so long as it has contact with the ground. Currently Bound: Lycara Mallin

[Aeons]: Slowly absorbs mana and earth from the surrounding area, repairing damage and slowly refining the shield.

-==÷==-

Not my greatest work, but it'll do for now, and fix itself later.

I slam the massive tower shield into the ground, the dirt flowing like water to encase the base of it. And not a moment too soon, as the bulwark drops into the ground and reappears just barely in time to intercept the lance, a large hole being punched in it but stopping the blow. The lance retracts as I rush to move away from the psychotic Thrall, and grass weaves itself into the gap, stone slowly closing over the damage but not nearly as fast as I would like it to. A hellish shrieking comes from the Thrall, and I risk a glance back to see a massive spear of ice piercing through its side from Allysa, who had been charging the spell for a while. Black sand runs from the wound, the ice decaying into nothingness on contact.

Great, acidic sand blood. Wonderful.

“Lycara! Get over here, we'll keep it distracted!”

Draven calls over, his axes already midair. One of the Thrall's arms bursts apart at the impact, but I can already see the blades rusting, pitted scars littering them from the sand. I manage to get liver to them as the Thrall regenerates, spearing one of the bandit corpses on the ground to drain what man's and blood remains. The corpse collapses into dust, and the Thrall’s arm regrows in a moment. It shrieks again, a grating sound like two rocks scraping together as it charges at us. The crooked lance hums ominously, symbols flashing erratically as he rushes at us, the bulwark slamming into place to halt his momentum and sending him reeling back from the impact. Allysa continues launching shards of ice at the creature, dealing no real damage but slowing it down considerably. Draven's axes return, much worse for wear as he launches them once more, the handles breaking off halfway through their flight as the ruined blades slam into the Thrall’s chest and rip out its back. It stumbles, sand pouring from the missing ‘flesh’ and decaying the dirt around it. It gives one last scream before falling to one knee, facing itself with the lance which is still held in a death grip, even as it itself dies. Draven retrieves a spare set of throwing axes from his spacial bag and yeeting them once more. Pala meanwhile is still holding the barrier, our attacks going through with no resistance but any returned ones stopping with a flash of verdant light. The Thrall starts throwing rocks at the barrier, each one making a sharp crack of displaced air, before it seems to give up after a few seconds of this. It slumps to the ground, unmoving, and Pala drops the barrier with a relieved sigh, sweat coating her brow from the effort of maintaining it. Draven drops his axes into their loops, and the barrage of ice from Allysa stops as we all just stand there, panting from the exertion of the rapid battle. I slump a bit, wondering what I'm supposed to do now that I have no usable weapon, and glance up at the corpse of the Thrall. It's right about then that I notice something is wrong: the glyphs are still glowing on the lance, and its eyes are still bright with rage, its mouth twisted into a feral snarl. Its arms twist unnaturally, and the lance blurs from its grip, directly towards us. I follow its gaze, time seeming to slow as I realize its target. I watch as the lance splits the air, flying unnaturally straight for such a warped shape as the cursed weapon moves straight at us, intent on one final victim in its short rampage. I see the others begin to turn, but no one has the speed to react. Except me. The bulwark is already rising, but it won't be fast enough. The Thrall screams, bursting into a cloud of sand before rapidly vanishing, but I'm too busy rushing to intercept the lance to notice. Allysa turns, eyes widening as she sees the lance approaching her, aimed directly between her eyes. They widen further as I launch myself into its path, halting it with a sickening wet crunch as the tip pokes out of my back. I go down hard, the lance speared through my stomach as I cough blood, already feeling it draining me. I draw on the dregs of my mana in a panic, ripping the lance to shreds and crystallizing its essentia straight into my storage, leaving behind a gaping fist sized hole in my guts. Nothing will bring back that tool of destruction, and I take a shuddering breath as I feel Pala pouring her remaining magic into healing me. It won't be enough. My vision is already dimming, and I feel lightheaded from blood loss as I faintly hear Allysa screaming at me to hang on. I give her blurry outline a weak smile, before falling limp, unable to keep myself upright, my strength fading rapidly. The last thing I see before unconsciousness takes me is a system message appearing.

Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

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Failsafe Item Initiated.

Dreamer’s Needle Activated.

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