Scald-Crow: Trouble 2

Jan
28

Scald-Crow: Trouble 2

The muck of flesth around my arm only served to hold me in place like a rotting vise. I wasn’t interested in dying in the thing south so as the last bit of the incantation left my lips I could feel a shock of electricity. Energy surged along my free arm as arcs of magic tingled and then twisted up my exposed skin. A series of lines and dashes, the ancient ogham of the gods started scrawling onto my arm. I could feel a series of whispers cahnting in my inner ear, as the air around me was filled with errant static. All I could do was sstare up at the sky and the darkness pervading my vision.

Clouds, that high flying kind that always trapped out the light of the moo. I forgot what their actual name was and I had not damn care at all for what it was. I centered my vision, I could feel my captured fist tightened as a rush of air smacked the sluagh’s exposed side, and my hair shifted from the sudden shockwave of air and the change of pressure. My ears popped as something shot past my vision and into the creature’s side. A sickening crunch of bone and muscle rolled through my body as I didn’t just hear the creature concuss from the blood. I could feel the meat of it’s body roll with the impact.

“CURSE YOU WAR-CAST! CURSE YOUR KIND TO THE NULL!” I heard it croak in that gravel-rock voice of it’s. I use the shock from teh wound as the monster teeth released their grip and I yanked out my arm. I could feel bits of my dermis being sliced open along the way, and pain lanced up my arm. But, I was free, I used my legs to push off the beast and snag leverage myself against the spear haft to pull it free. Gore was sloughin goff the thing as I did the trick and my weapon was in hand.

“Seriously?” I heard it cawing at me to curse my name, what was this thing a medieval villain fro a grail quest?

I scoffed and twirled the spear over my shoudler as I angled across my arm for a hard thrust.

“I am the daughter of mortals, but my blood is divine,” I grinned revealing sharpened white teeth, “You’ll give me back my memories stitch thing. And when you do, the null will have you.”

My angle was set and my aim true and as I thrust the weapon struck throw the creatures twice thick ribcage. Bone chipped but held. I gritted my teeth again. The creature coughed out a laugh. I twisted free my weapon ad the monster parried me with a single hard swing of one of its ape-liek arms. It struck my side and sent me rolling across the ground like a broken rag-doll.

My limbs screamed as I was sure only my regenerative abilities were keeping me intact. The creature slammed a four-fingered clawed hand into the ground to tear it up. It’s body began to shake as my spear let off a wave of sizzling heat. Boar Ripper was a legendary weapon, insane except for the most stalwart fighters. In fact, I never kept it in my home dimension.

I could feel my bones knitting themselves back together, and I could smell the arrow as I pop a leg back into it’s socket. Wait, marrow? How did? I saw the blood, great, I had ruined another pair of leggings.

Now to deal with the monstrosity, and end this dumpster fire of a day.

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More Next Time.