James lept away from the burning bush. He spun and stared at it as he backed away. The flames looked … unnatural. They ate away at the bush, but didn't spread to the trees and bushes nearby. At least I don't have to worry about a forest fire. James thought, although the thought didn't bring him much comfort. The flames were clearly magical, and whatever made them would definitely be dangerous.
As he watched the flames, slowly backing toward the lake, he jumped as he noticed the flames watching him back! A head was emerging from the flames. A hooked beak, like a large bird of prey, the dead orange of coals burning in the stove. Eyes, staring right at him, with pupils the shimmering darkness of coal and surrounded by the deep red of the heart of a flame, fading to a bright orange. As the bird continued to emerge, James saw a neck and body, covered in feathers like flames. Mostly a deep red fading to orange, like the eyes, but occasionally a streak of blue would flash through one of the feathers. Its talons were the deep orange of hot metal, and as the bird walked the heat they gave off instantly charred anything the bird stepped on. It flared its wings and screeched, its wings flaring backward like a large fire in a strong gust of wind. When it screeched, it sounded strangely similar to that of a red-tailed hawk. James wondered for a split second if the two might be related.
The thought only lasted a moment as a more important thought took its place. A phoenix! What is a phoenix doing here? There used to be wild phoenixes near here, but they had all been hunted, and the only remaining wild phoenixes were in the southern deserts. But this bird perfectly matched the description of a phoenix he'd heard from an adventurer who'd passed through the village a few weeks earlier. But a phoenix here had only one explanation. It's a dungeon monster! James had heard of rogue dungeon monsters being found near recently killed dungeons, and they were always vicious, killing everything they came across until the adventurers' guild sent someone to deal with it.
James knew his chances of survival were low, but he wasn't going to give up without a fight. He lifted his spear and pointed it at the bird. Suddenly his homemade spear seemed a lot less impressive. He remembered the adventurer telling about his fight with a phoenix. He could almost hear the low, gravelly voice of the scarred adventurer; he could almost smell the smoke of the campfire.
“We were nearing the end of our run, and approached the final room of the floor, the boss room. The most dangerous enemy in the entire dungeon … a phoenix. Our group consisted of me, a healer, a mage, an archer, and another fighter.
“A phoenix isn’t a quick fight. With many monsters, the fight is won or lost within moments. A phoenix is different. They are endurance fighters. As long as they have mana, they will be reborn from the ashes of their previous body. They aren’t especially strong, but they will wear down a fighter with fight after fight. Their magical attacks are also nothing to ignore, although every attack they use means they will revive less times. The larger the bird, the more powerful. The phoenix we faced stood nearly 10 feet tall, with a wingspan of almost twice that.
“Our first attack was an ice arrow from our archer, killing the bird instantly with a shot through the eye. As the bird crashed and became ashes, our other fighter ran up to the ashes, thinking to get a cheap shot in while the bird was on the ground. As he used a mace, he had very little chance of hitting anything flying. Little did we know, the rebirth of a phoenix is no calm event. A massive explosion of flame smashed him into the wall, where he slid to the ground. As our healer ran over to him, the archer tried to kill it again, but the bird spun and took the arrow to the wing instead, injuring but not killing it.
“The bird sent a massive wave of flame at the archer, but was blocked by a quick shield from our mage. I taunted the bird, drawing its attention away from the more fragile members of my team. I crouched behind my shield as it sent a condensed stream of fire at me.” He gestured to the shield on the ground next to him. The metal was warped, melted in places, and looked like large grooves had been cut in it.
“The bird attacked while I was behind the shield, carving massive scratches in the metal. I swung with my sword, removing one of the legs of the giant bird. This hit cost me as well, however, leaving a glowing dent in my sword as if I had struck a rod of pure heat. The next shot from the archer sailed true, entering the back of the bird’s head. While the birds are magically strong, they are relatively weak physically. They are quite easy to kill, but the problem is you have to kill them an impressive number of times.
"This time we gave the ashes plenty of distance, and when the bird returned, the flames in its wings were noticeably less than when we began.
“Our mage led with an attack this time, sending a massive ice spear towards the bird. The bird responded with a wave of heat that evaporated the spear, but significantly dimmed the flames of its wings. I taunted the bird again, and the bird swerved away from an attack on our healer. It came at me again, and I dodged its swoop while beheading it. I paid dearly for this attack, however, as the intense heat melted my sword. The heat in the neck was far greater than the heat in the legs.
“As we stayed well back from the ashes, the bird returned. Reviving took very little mana from the bird, but had gained our mage enough time to prepare a large attack. A storm of icicles flew toward the bird, who defended against most of them with another wave of fire. However, the bird missed a few, and where they hit, the flames of the bird dimmed significantly. Again the bird attacked, and once again I taunted it to gain its attention. As I huddled behind my shield, weaponless, I could feel the heat from the massive bird as our archer again placed an arrow in the head of the mighty bird.
“At this point, we were growing weary, but fortunately the wings of the mighty bird were the color of the final flames flickering among the coals of a dying fire. Our mage put everything he had into a final attack, passing out from mana exhaustion. The bird was caught in the center of a whirlwind of ice blades, which cut dark grooves in the flames of the bird. When the mighty beast finally escaped the whirlwind, it could barely fly. Our archer hit it with a final arrow, and the beast had been defeated.
“We had not escaped unscathed, however. The second warrior had been killed in the explosion when the bird returned, and the mage had nearly overextended on that last spell, risking everything on one last attempt to take down the phoenix.”
“What would you have done if the bird had returned while the mage was unconscious?” James remembered one of the youth asking the massive warrior.
“I would have died.” was the response given. “A phoenix cannot be killed with normal weapons. Remember, I had already lost my sword, and you can see that my shield wouldn’t have lasted much longer. A phoenix also spends almost no mana when returning. There was once a researcher who wanted to know how many times a phoenix could revive if it didn’t use spells. He took a bag of holding, which can hold more than it should, filled with hundreds of swords, and an enchantment to prevent spells in the near area. He killed the bird five hundred times before he gave up. The flames on the bird’s wings were still bright and powerful. It has been estimated that even a weak phoenix could return at least a thousand times if it didn’t use spells.”
James had been glad he wouldn't ever have to fight a phoenix, but that didn't seem nearly as encouraging now. He knew his spear wouldn't do much to the bird. Fortunately this bird was only about 3 feet tall, and was clearly far weaker than the one in the adventurer’s story. Still, that didn't give James much comfort as he continued backing away from the large bird. As the bird got close, James jabbed at it with his spear.
The bird flapped backwards. The heat from its wings felt like standing too close to a bonfire on a hot summer day, and as he glanced at his spear, he could see that even though he never even touched the bird, the hairs on the hide strings he'd used to lash the tip to the spear had singed off. He knew he needed a different plan if he was going to escape, because his spear would probably only last one hit.
At this point James only wanted to escape. He could see that his spear wasn't the answer. He looked behind him as he continued to back away from the bird, and he saw it. Like one of the legendary blades of planar sundering, there it lay: a fist-sized round stone. OK, maybe not quite as good, but at least it was fireproof and a ranged weapon. The phoenix paused and cocked its head to the side when James picked it up, as if considering this new threat, before it continued stalking towards him. That was encouraging. If the bird was being cautious, perhaps James could escape.
Fortunately, with his dexterity score of 13, James had always been good at throwing things. Turns out all of that time throwing rocks at stuff wasn't a waste of time after all! He got ready and let it fly. Yes! It hit the bird in the right wing. The large rock knocked the light bird back several feet, and when the bird stood, its right wing was clearly broken, trailing on the ground, useless.
Maybe James had a chance. He allowed a flicker of hope to ignite in his chest. If he could hurt the bird so it couldn't chase him without killing it, he might be able to escape. He picked up another rock, but as he looked back at the bird, the bird opened its beak, and James could see its throat start to glow. He jumped behind a large rock, and just in time. A wave of flame slammed into the rock, and James felt his eyebrows singe from the heat. Fortunately, it only lasted a few seconds, and James peeked back around the rock as it finished.
The bird was clearly being more careful, keeping its good wing tucked in close to its body. The flickering fire actually made excellent camouflage for the wing, and James couldn't tell where the body ended and the wing started. But he hadn't stayed the champion rock thrower for 4 years in the village by only hitting large targets. He readied, and launched his second rock. It flew true, smashing into the bird’s left leg! Again the bird went down, and James allowed himself a bit more hope, as the flicker turned into a small blaze of hope.
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As he was getting ready to run, though, the bird stood again. Apparently, the legs were made of stronger stuff than the wings, as he should have guessed from the adventurer’s story. Still, the leg was clearly damaged, and the bird was having difficulty walking. As James got ready to throw again, the bird opened its beak again. James immediately ducked behind the rock again, and just in time. A concentrated beam of heat passed right through the space he'd occupied a moment before, continuing for about 50 feet before dying out. This further solidified the knowledge that James had to prevent the bird from following him if he wanted to escape.
He popped up from behind the rock and hurled another stone. Again it crashed into the bird’s left leg, causing the bird to collapse again. James quickly ran to another large rock a bit further from the bird, as the bird had been getting a bit closer than he was comfortable with, although it had made hitting it easier. As he looked from his new fortress, he could see that the bird was still able to walk, but it was clearly very hurt. It had to use its left wing to help support it each time it stepped on its left leg.
James wasn't going to pass up an opportunity like that. He grabbed another rock, grateful there were lots of good throwing rocks on the outcropping. It appeared that all of the bird's attacks came from its mouth, so if he could take the bird down, he'd be mostly safe and able to escape. He just had to make certain not to accidentally kill it all the way, or it would be back at full strength. He peeked around the rock, only to immediately pull back as he saw another ray of flame go through the space his head had momentarily occupied. He quickly smacked out the fire that had started in his hair. Fortunately, the ray was more concentrated than the first blast had been, so the rest of his face only felt like it had gotten a bad sunburn.
Again he popped up and launched his mighty stone. It flew through the air, careening into the left wing of the bird. Again, the light bird was knocked backwards by the impact, and this time it couldn't seem to get up. It tried twice, three times, and James felt the little flame of hope in his chest become a burning bonfire of hope. If the bird couldn't follow, he could escape, keeping obstacles between himself and the bird to be safe from its fire rays. Obviously the bird had come to the same conclusion, as it screeched angrily, craning its neck around to look at James.
As James got ready to run, the bird opened its beak again, its throat burning brighter than ever before. James dropped behind the rock again, but peeked around the edge just in case. As the brightness grew to a maximum, the bird did something James hadn't expected: it turned its beak into its own chest. A massive blast of fire hit the bird, followed by an explosion that shook the outcropping. When James looked again, all that was left was a pile of ashes.
The bonfire of hope had just gotten soaked by the entire lake behind him. James started running up the outcropping, aware of what was coming next. Sure enough, a large explosion followed a few seconds later, sending James skidding, skinning his palms and knees. He looked back, only to see the phoenix staring angrily back. Its flames were visibly weaker, and obviously that attack had taken a lot out of it, but it was just as obvious that it was still strong enough to finish James, and now it was angry.
James started to back away again, but his foot hit the edge of the cliff. He was cornered, and the bird knew it. The phoenix took off, flying right towards him. He still held his spear, somehow having kept ahold of it throughout the entire fight, but James knew that having that explosion right next to him when the bird came back would be a death sentence. As the bird was flying up the outcropping towards him, he remembered a story his mother had told him and his brothers when they were little.
"Once upon a time there was a mighty fighter. He roamed the kingdoms slaying any creatures he encountered. His compass treasure was the fang of a cave bear he had killed, and he traveled far and wide, looking for something to challenge himself.
"Once while he was in the southern deserts hunting down a sand lion pride that had been stealing sheep from a nearby village he heard a sound that made his blood freeze. It was a screech with the power of a hurricane and the hunger of a forest fire. He spun around, and in the sky above him he saw a flaming bird the size of a tree. Despite his great strength, he knew his weakness was against magic, which could easily defeat him from range.
"As he looked for any escape, he saw a small cliff containing a small cave. Knowing the bird would have a hard time getting into the small space, and hoping it would give him better chances than in the open, the warrior sprinted for the cave."
James remembered clutching his blanket to his chest as his mother had expertly increased the tension without making it too scary for young children, like he'd been back then.
"Before he'd made it more than halfway there, the mighty bird was almost upon him. He spun and launched an arrow as the bird was diving. It was a perfect shot, piercing the skull of the swooping bird and killing it instantly. He continued towards the cave, sprinting as quickly as he could, knowing that the bird wouldn't be far behind. He reached the cave just as a wave of heat let him know that the bird had been just moments behind him.
"Fortunately for the mighty warrior, the cave took a sharp turn just within, preventing the bird's spells from reaching him, and the bird itself was too large to enter. At first the bird had tried, squeezing its head into the cave, but this put it in too vulnerable of a position, as the warrior could easily slay it before it got him. He was glad that he'd fashioned a spear from the remains of a fire giant he'd killed, as it was able to withstand the great heat it was subjected to each time he killed the phoenix with it.
"Stuck in this stalemate, the warrior kept the mighty phoenix at bay for weeks. He was able to sleep at night, as the brightness of the bird would wake him if it tried to enter during the night. But he had to be constantly vigilant for much of the day, as the bird would occasionally try to surprise him. Reviving hardly cost the bird anything, and the warrior didn't have any spells that could truly harm it. His one hope was that the bird would grow bored or find easier prey and leave.
"Unfortunately for the warrior, prey is scarce in the southern deserts, and the bird didn't grow bored. Eventually, his food ran out, and he knew he'd have to make a run for it. The bird had been coming less often during the night, so he made plans to escape the following night. That whole day he took a risk and tried to sleep, making certain that he would have as much energy as possible the following night. Although with the amount of adrenaline that was already pumping through his veins, he didn't think that would be a problem.
"That night, as the sun was down and it started to get dark, a miracle occurred. It began to rain. In the southern deserts, rainstorms are rare, and the ones that make it that far are powerful things of wind and pummeling rain. The warrior knew this was his only hope, and as darkness fell, he left the cave and started running.
"He ran for almost half an hour. His spirits started to rise, as he knew that the longer he went without being detected by the mighty phoenix, the better his chances. Then, the worst occurred. He heard a screech of anger over the rushing winds, and he knew that the phoenix had discovered his escape. His only hope was that the bird would search in the wrong direction, but after only a few minutes he could see a bright light through the storm. He stopped running and caught his breath, knowing that any further running would only tire him out for the inevitable fight.
"The mighty bird swooped through the storm, rain evaporating on its fiery plumage and creating a train of steam like the tail of a comet as it plunged towards him. The mighty warrior stood his ground, readying his spear. As the bird dove towards him, he dodged the outstretched talons, stabbing the spear deep into the body of the great bird. He didn't escape unscathed, however, receiving bad burns on his hands from the heat released as he pierced the massive bird and from the scalding steam following in its wake.
"The bird collapsed into a pile of ashes, as it had so many times before, and the warrior crouched, preparing himself for the imminent explosion. In the cave he'd been protected from the blast by the bend in the cave, and fortunately the bird's dive had carried it a distance beyond him before it crashed, but he still was ready for the shockwave he knew was coming.
"The pile of ashes started smoking lightly. And kept smoking. As the warrior watched, the massive rainstorm was keeping the ashes from building up the requisite heat for the bird to be reborn! Eventually the smoke stopped. The warrior wasn't sure whether he could allow himself to hope, but then, atop the pile of ashes appeared a single feather. It was a phoenix feather, an item only found upon the death of a phoenix, and then only rarely.
"The mighty warrior ran to the ashes and grabbed the feather. He fell to his knees in the wet ashes and sand, and he wept. The rainwater mixed with his tears of joy as he looked at that feather. It was a powerful magical item, but even more importantly to him, it meant he was safe. He would live to see another day."
James had let loose a great sigh of relief, matched by those of his brothers.
"So you see," His mother had concluded. "Sometimes it is better to use your head before starting a fight. The warrior could have faced the mighty phoenix that first day, and he would never have been seen again. Instead, by waiting for conditions that favored him, he went on to live a long successful life."
All of this flashed through his mind in the moments as the bird was flying towards him up the outcropping. James glanced up at the sky. He might be able to kill the mighty bird once more, if it would just start raining. But the sky was clear for as far as he could see. As the bird approached, James lifted his spear. The bird continued unphased, knowing that in death it would win. It didn't even ready its talons, depending on the explosion of its rebirth to defeat James.
Then James did something that surprised the mighty bird. He dropped his spear. As the surprised bird crashed into James, he wrapped it in a massive bear hug, turned, and leapt off of the cliff. As his arms and chest were burning, as they were plummeting through the air, he finally heard a sound from the bird that raised his spirits: fear. As they plummeted toward the lake below, James smiled. You may have gotten me, but I'm bringing you down with me.
The fall seemed to last forever. He was burning as the phoenix tried to escape, but James' grip was as strong as iron. Still, the pain was the worst James had ever felt. Everything was burning. His arms, face, chest, it was all pain. And then the fire was inside of him, and he screamed. It felt like liquid fire was coursing through his veins, and as he screamed fire got into his mouth and throat.
Finally James felt them hit the water. He felt bones breaking under him. He had managed to spin in the air so he was on top of the bird, sealing its fate. Then they hit the bottom, and James' world went black.