07-28-2018, 10:25 AM
I manage to strike first, giving a wordless battlecry as I thrust one-handed, and the tip of my javelin connects powerfully with the greenskin’s midriff.
He laughs.
I blink, frozen in place, too stunned to react as I realise that my spear has been blocked solely by a set of abdominal muscles like steel cables. He has no magical defences, as I do… this resilience is purely biological. Insane. The javelin’s point barely penetrated half a centimetre past his skin.
“Huh huh, batta’ up!” Whompt hefts his greataxe and swings with both hands, his whole body twisting as he puts everything he has into this movement. My Protections, already weakened by the shapshifter’s relentless swipes, just aren’t enough this time... though at least I don’t get choped completely in half, as I’m sure any normal human would by such a tremendous blow.
With a flash of golden fire and a splash of crimson blood, I go flying, spinning through the air, at least two ribs broken and bleeding profusely. I strike a thin palm tree and with a splintering crash and carry on moving, as the tree snaps in half.
I tumble gracelessly a little way across the sand before coming to rest, gasping for air and struggling futilely to rise whilst pressing one hand to my wound in a vain attempt at staunching the flow of blood. Even if I could manage, that would hardly do much good; I’m still covered in long, ragged cuts from Amber’s claws. The freely flowing fluid has my sari stained sanguine; it’s clear that I’ll have to heal up soon if I’m to avoid passing out from blood loss.
“Baha-” I begin, the moment I have the breath to speak again, only to see my axe-wielding attacker appear above me, his weapon descending rapidly. I jerk my head to the side and merely lose an ear, rather than having my skull cleft in half, “-aagh!”
He drops the axe and picks me up by my top, then proceeds to slam his fist into my face a few times. I scrabble weakly at the hand clutching my clothing, failing dismally to free myself. Then the orc tosses me away casually and I roll through the sand again, leaving a scarlet trail on the ground to mark my passing.
Unhurriedly, he lifts his weapon and, grinning, swaggers over towards me. This isn’t even a fight anymore, merely an execution. I’m worn out already, and I’ll be entirely exhausted if I heal, I know. I’m a little tempted just to refrain from reacting. Right now, sleeping like the dead for a week or so doesn’t seem like such an awful prospect.
But then Larva screams shrilly from somewhere in the distance. I groan, force myself up onto all fours, limbs trembling, and spit blood, glaring at the greenskin.
“Bahaal.” I say, my voice clear and strong, despite my pain. Golden flames burst outwards.
I can feel my flesh knitting together, though the all-concealing radiance of the Restorations keeps me from observing the process with my own two eyes. I stand, somewhat unsteadily.
When the fire vanishes I see Whompt has backed up a bit, so I spare a moment to glance down at my sweat-slicked body and rearrange the torn remnants of my top and sash in an attempt at retaining some semblance of modesty; though my wounds have healed over—on the surface, at least—and the blood has all been burnt away, the healing magic has done nothing to fix my outfit, and Amber’s claws did a real number on it.
The greenskin roars and charges and I leap into the air, straight at him. Between the effort of the fight and my lack of enough power to heal myself fully, my whole body aches. I’ve quite some skill in acrobatics, though, and I didn’t get this good by giving up whenever my muscles got a little sore.
My foe swings clumsily—not anticipating an aerial attack—misses, and I land on top of him, one foot on his shoulder, the other on his face. Before he has time to react, I kick off, using him as a living springboard. I twist in midair, forging a spear as I spin, aiming then launching the projectile at the enormous panther several metres away.
It sinks into her side, and Amber howls in pain and surprise, stumbling slightly and allowing a thoroughly bloodied fairy to slip from her grasp and take to the sky, unleashing a fusillade of scales which flash brightly upon impact and send the beast crashing to the ground.
The moment I land, I roll forwards. It’s not an instant too soon, for a fraction of a second later Whompt’s axe head slams into the sand where I’d been.
I twist to face him as I roll, and come out of the movement in a crouch, another javelin forming in one hand as my goliath of an opponent roars and loses no time in charging me once more.
I have not the slightest idea how I’m going to defeat this creature.
He laughs.
I blink, frozen in place, too stunned to react as I realise that my spear has been blocked solely by a set of abdominal muscles like steel cables. He has no magical defences, as I do… this resilience is purely biological. Insane. The javelin’s point barely penetrated half a centimetre past his skin.
“Huh huh, batta’ up!” Whompt hefts his greataxe and swings with both hands, his whole body twisting as he puts everything he has into this movement. My Protections, already weakened by the shapshifter’s relentless swipes, just aren’t enough this time... though at least I don’t get choped completely in half, as I’m sure any normal human would by such a tremendous blow.
With a flash of golden fire and a splash of crimson blood, I go flying, spinning through the air, at least two ribs broken and bleeding profusely. I strike a thin palm tree and with a splintering crash and carry on moving, as the tree snaps in half.
I tumble gracelessly a little way across the sand before coming to rest, gasping for air and struggling futilely to rise whilst pressing one hand to my wound in a vain attempt at staunching the flow of blood. Even if I could manage, that would hardly do much good; I’m still covered in long, ragged cuts from Amber’s claws. The freely flowing fluid has my sari stained sanguine; it’s clear that I’ll have to heal up soon if I’m to avoid passing out from blood loss.
“Baha-” I begin, the moment I have the breath to speak again, only to see my axe-wielding attacker appear above me, his weapon descending rapidly. I jerk my head to the side and merely lose an ear, rather than having my skull cleft in half, “-aagh!”
He drops the axe and picks me up by my top, then proceeds to slam his fist into my face a few times. I scrabble weakly at the hand clutching my clothing, failing dismally to free myself. Then the orc tosses me away casually and I roll through the sand again, leaving a scarlet trail on the ground to mark my passing.
Unhurriedly, he lifts his weapon and, grinning, swaggers over towards me. This isn’t even a fight anymore, merely an execution. I’m worn out already, and I’ll be entirely exhausted if I heal, I know. I’m a little tempted just to refrain from reacting. Right now, sleeping like the dead for a week or so doesn’t seem like such an awful prospect.
But then Larva screams shrilly from somewhere in the distance. I groan, force myself up onto all fours, limbs trembling, and spit blood, glaring at the greenskin.
“Bahaal.” I say, my voice clear and strong, despite my pain. Golden flames burst outwards.
I can feel my flesh knitting together, though the all-concealing radiance of the Restorations keeps me from observing the process with my own two eyes. I stand, somewhat unsteadily.
When the fire vanishes I see Whompt has backed up a bit, so I spare a moment to glance down at my sweat-slicked body and rearrange the torn remnants of my top and sash in an attempt at retaining some semblance of modesty; though my wounds have healed over—on the surface, at least—and the blood has all been burnt away, the healing magic has done nothing to fix my outfit, and Amber’s claws did a real number on it.
The greenskin roars and charges and I leap into the air, straight at him. Between the effort of the fight and my lack of enough power to heal myself fully, my whole body aches. I’ve quite some skill in acrobatics, though, and I didn’t get this good by giving up whenever my muscles got a little sore.
My foe swings clumsily—not anticipating an aerial attack—misses, and I land on top of him, one foot on his shoulder, the other on his face. Before he has time to react, I kick off, using him as a living springboard. I twist in midair, forging a spear as I spin, aiming then launching the projectile at the enormous panther several metres away.
It sinks into her side, and Amber howls in pain and surprise, stumbling slightly and allowing a thoroughly bloodied fairy to slip from her grasp and take to the sky, unleashing a fusillade of scales which flash brightly upon impact and send the beast crashing to the ground.
The moment I land, I roll forwards. It’s not an instant too soon, for a fraction of a second later Whompt’s axe head slams into the sand where I’d been.
I twist to face him as I roll, and come out of the movement in a crouch, another javelin forming in one hand as my goliath of an opponent roars and loses no time in charging me once more.
I have not the slightest idea how I’m going to defeat this creature.
Quote:Word Count: 848 (according to WordCounter.net*)
*After adding +4 for the two pairs of em dashes.
Spending 4 SP on Advanced Regeneration to heal 12 damage.
Ahana appears fully healed, though she was actually injured badly enough that she still has some residual muscle damage under her skin.
SP Remaining: 0/4
![[Image: Ahana_Sig_V3.png]](https://image.ibb.co/bAZXiJ/Ahana_Sig_V3.png)