First Draw

by Tim Moon

  When the object hit the ground, purple black energy shot out in twisting ribbons that arced toward Karkash and the dead goblins. Jaron’s eyebrows rose in growing panic and his pace slowed.

  He’s raising the dead, Jaron thought. His suspicions were confirmed when the energy touched one of the goblins and it sat up. The dead goblin stood with stiff, jerky movements and let out a wheezing moan.

  Magdud threw a bead from his necklace at Jaron. He was too distracted to move and felt a burst of cold that froze him in place just as Magdud had done with the badgers. Jaron was frozen in mid-stride. He couldn’t move at all, yet his senses still working. He could see everything in his field of view and could even hear although sounds were muted.

  Magdud ran past him, completely focused on Vayvnu. Several goblins were on their feet now, trudging across the battlefield the way only the living dead could. Their eyes glowed purple rimmed in black. They held no weapons as they closed in on the frozen badgers, but they naturally had sizable claws on their fingers. That would be weapon enough if the animals remained immobilized. They would be torn apart, unable to defend themselves.

  Jaron could only hope the freeze spell elapsed before it was too late.

  In his peripheral vision, Jaron noticed Karkash’s hands clawing at the hardened ground he was encased in, trying to free himself from his grave. Wurmza still lay on the ground, unable to stand but capable of crawling. Worst of all, the orkkan was moving straight towards him.

  Jaron roared inside him mind, willing his body to move. He did not want to die again. Not like this.

  Magdud dodged another tail slap that made the ground tremble. Vayvnu was incredibly powerful but her injuries were substantial. Magdud climbed a boulder, ran across a mound of dirt, hopped on Vayvnu’s back and immediately began to slash at her scales. They were tough but she was young, and it was obvious to Jaron that she had not fully developed her power. Everything he knew about dragons said they grew more powerful over time. Vayvnu had not had much time. Analyze had shown she was only 18 years old. That alone nearly blew his mind. She whipped her head around to snap at Magdud.

  The goblins groaned and began to claw at the badgers. A second later, the spell broke and the wild animals went full on beast mode. All Jaron saw were green goblins and blurs of black fur. Snarling and groaning mixed with grunts and growls. Arrows zipped out of the trees, striking the zombie goblins though Jaron couldn’t tell what effect they had.

  The battle was on.

  And all Jaron could do was watch, frozen in mid-stride. He strained against the hold of the spell, but it did nothing. He couldn’t budge at all and Wurmza was closing in.

  Come on, Jaron thought. Any moment now.

  Karkash had cleared the dirt away from his head and shoulders. It wouldn’t be long before he had climbed free of his grave. Jaron had to get back into the fight or they were doomed. His helplessness was infuriating.

  Only a small measure of satisfaction could be taken from the fact that he had a front row seat to watch the badgers mauling the shit out of the goblins. As he watched, brown blurs joined the fray, dropping from the trees overhead. He couldn’t see what they were, but he saw flashes of metal. One second later, a goblin. Then another goblin died for the second time a few seconds later.

  A rough hand gripped Jaron’s ankle. His heart pounded. If his eyes could have widened in fear, they would have. His stomach lurched at his pending death.

  Then the spell broke and he stumbled forward.

  Jaron had his cutlass in hand already, and he swung backwards at Wurmza’s face. It opened a gash that exposed his teeth through his cheek. Wurmza’s clawed hand released Jaron’s foot to cover his wound. Channeling his inner badger, Jaron shouted, “Beast mode!” and let loose a flurry of cuts and slashes that left Wurmza looking like discolored carne asada beef.

  After the unbridled slaughter, Jaron staggered back a couple of steps to catch his breath. Energy pulsed through him and he felt more alert and alive than he had all day. He turned to survey the battle and set his sights on Karkash who had just pulled himself free of the ground. Karkash got to his feet and moaned. His glowing purple eyes fixed on Jaron and the orkkan lurched towards him with outstretched arms. Clumps of dirt fell off his head and shoulders.

  Jaron wasn’t too concerned though. He knew how to deal with zombies.

  Aim for the head.

  Jaron strode to Karkash, dodging his grasping hands and stabbed him in the face. The blade entered just under his eye. Bone gave way with a crunch and the glowing purple eyeball bulged from the abnormal pressure. The light in his eyes went out and the orkkan’s moan died. With a sharp twist, Jaron withdrew the cutlass. The goblins were no longer a threat either. Jaron blinked in surprise at the disappearance of the badgers and whatever else had joined the fight. With a shake of his head, he turned to see how Vayvnu faired against Magdud.

  Blood trickled from cuts along Vayvnu’s side and legs where some of Magdud’s strikes began to get through her natural armor. She moved with great effort due to the harpoon that crippled one wing. Jaron ran to help and once again her tail proved a formidable weapon.

  Jaron hadn’t even noticed Gnorm until Vayvnu’s tail wrapped around him like a python. Bones snapped and crackled like popcorn as she squeezed. Some of his guts bulged out of his mouth before she flung him away.

  Jaron dove to the side to avoid the body. Gnorm tumbled across the ground and slid into Karkash’s old resting place. The sight of him disappearing into the recently vacated hole made him grin.

  “Hole in one,” he muttered.

  Jaron ran to the hole and was shocked to see Gnorm wedged in place as if he was stretching to touch his toes. He hacked Gnorm’s head off just to be sure he wouldn’t rise again, no matter what.

  You have slain the undead orkkan, Gnorm for 100 XP.

  Vayvnu’s screaming roar of pain proved the battle wasn’t over. Magdud swung at a gash he had already made and hacked off half of a huge chunk of Vayvnu’s tail. A gout of blood shot from the wound. Vayvnu mewled like a wounded dog and the sound tore at Jaron’s heart.

  Casting stone spike at Magdud, Jaron watched the orkkan’s fierce grin vanish and twist into a scream of pain. With a faint whoosh, another round of tiny arrows sprouted from Magdud, one in the face and three in his neck. The orkkan growled and plucked them out. With a determined look, Magdud grasped his leg and pulled himself off the spike.

  As impressive as that was, Jaron was more concerned that Vayvnu might have passed out or died. He sprinted towards the orkkan with everything he had left. Magdud clambered onto Vayvnu’s back. With a huff of pained effort, she arched her back and shook her body, but Magdud managed to hold on. Relief washed over Jaron that the dragon was still clinging to life.

  Magdud crawled to her shoulder. He grabbed the harpoon and pulled on it, eliciting another chest rattling roar from the dragon. Vayvnu’s eyes rolled and looked like she was about to pass out.

  Jaron growled in frustration as he closed the last few dozen feet.

  “Pardon me, Vayvnu,” Jaron said as he climbed atop her injured body to stop Magdud.

  She growled in response but didn’t move.

  “You dog faced bastard,” Jaron shouted as he approached the orkkan. “I’m going to take your head just like I did with your friends.”

  “Ain’t got no friends,” Magdud snarled.

  “No surprise there,” Jaron said.

  “And who you callin’ dog faced, goblin skin?”

  Goblin skin? That motherfucker, Jaron thought.

  “Seriously Magdud, did your whore mom bang a gnoll?” Jaron waved a hand in a circle indicating the orkkan’s face. “Because that, is just a nightmare.”

  Magdud’s face flushed and he unleashed a roar as he hobbled along Vayvnu’s back towards him. Jaron widened his stance to absorb the momentum and raised his sword to counter whatever attack would come at him. He couldn’t believe he was about to fight on top of a wounded dragon.

  Vayvnu h
ad other plans though. Her body shifted beneath them in a way that created a bend in Magdud’s path. The shift put his foot along the curved edge of her body, so when he stepped his good ankle bent to the side with a loud crack.

  Jaron fell to a knee to keep his balance and stay atop Vayvnu. Magdud fell over the side and landed hard on his back from the five-foot drop. Seizing the moment, Jaron cast stone spike.

  A stone spear pierced the shoulder of Magdud’s sword arm. It wasn’t the right target but it was good enough.

  “You wandered into the wrong forest and picked a fight with the wrong people,” Jaron said.

  Analyze showed the orkkan’s health had fallen to just 32 hit points. Jaron slid off the dragon—he’d been on a dragon! —to finish off Magdud. To Jaron’s surprise, the orkkan grasped the spike, broke the protruding tip off and sat up. The stone came out with a wet slurping sound.

  This dude has grit, Jaron admitted to himself.

  Another knife appeared in Magdud’s hand and it flew at Jaron too quick for him to fully duck out of the way. It wasn’t aimed at his head though. Instead, the blade dug deep into the meat on the side of his thigh and although it didn’t stick, the gash buckled Jaron’s knee. As he fell, Jaron reached out with his cutlass and flicked his wrist. The tip opened a line across Magdud’s throat. The orkkan clutched his throat with one massive hand, trying to hold in the blood that oozed between his fingers.

  Jaron tipped sideways and hit the ground with a grunt, clutching the gash on his thigh.

  You were hit by throwing dagger for 9 damage. You are bleeding for 2 hit points per second for 20 seconds.

  Where the hell did the knife come from? It was like they just appeared out of thin air.

  Get down, Vayvnu’s voice said in his mind, interrupting his thoughts.

  Jaron flopped to his stomach and rolled away. The sudden hiss of her breath attack whooshed overhead. He rolled again and again, hoping to avoid the deadly liquid.

  Vayvnu’s acid melted Magdud’s legs in seconds as he crawled away. He didn’t stop crawling either. It was like one command repeated in his mind and his body couldn’t stop. The acid clung to him like napalm, eating away at his flesh and Jaron watched in horror as his torso separated from the rest at his waistline, like a marshmallow stretched too far. Intestines trailed in the dirt behind him, but Magdud kept moving.

  Jaron covered his mouth and had to swallow hard to keep bile from stinging his throat. He found he couldn’t look away. The unnatural horror of it mesmerized him.

  Magdud pulled himself another ten feet, just beyond Vayvnu’s ruined tail before he slumped to the ground. The remnants of his body rose and fell in quick breaths. Magdud no longer posed much threat, but Jaron kept an eye on his hands for those goddamned knives. He wasn’t going to fall for that trick again.

  “I have questions,” Jaron said as he limped after the mortally wounded leader.

  Probably more questions than the guy could answer before he died, Jaron thought. It was a rare opportunity to gain some valuable intelligence though. So, he had to try.

  “Are more of your kind coming?” Jaron asked. His voice growled Magdud’s language. Although it sounded harsher than goblinspeak, the sentences were mature and fully formed.

  “Pound dirt, forest rat,” Magdud snapped as he rolled onto his back and leaned on one elbow. Blood stained his lips and he tried to spat on Jaron but lacked the strength. The glob flopped out of his mouth and landed on his chest. “Enjoy your victory while you can.”

  “Others are coming then. I approve,” Jaron said with a scowl at the translation. He had meant to say thanks or thank you. Did orkkan lack a word for that? He tried again, “I approve.”

  Weird.

  “How long until they arrive?” Jaron asked.

  “The Master will make you all pay,” Magdud said, slumping back to the ground.

  “Who is the master?”

  “The Master will…rule…all.”

  “Is he coming here?” Jaron asked.

  Magdud’s barking laugh sounded weak. “You are…nothing to…him.”

  Jaron glanced up to see Vayvnu watching the exchange with a curious expression. Her eyes widened and he snapped his head back, barely catching a glint in Magdud’s hand.

  He ducked to the side and pushed Magdud’s hand away. Taking a steadying breath, Jaron couldn’t believe he almost fell for it again. Magdud’s shaky arm held the knife unsteadily. Jaron gripped Magdud’s hand firmly in his and forced the blade down towards his neck.

  Their eyes met and Jaron detected fear swirling in his golden-brown eyes.

  “Your master will fail,” Jaron said through clenched teeth. “The way you did. The way your kind always fails.”

  Before Magdud could retort, Jaron pressed the blade into the soft flesh beside the trachea. Magdud’s eyes widened in primal alarm as the blade pierced his flesh and released the blood pounding through his carotid artery. A hot fountain of blood pumped over Jaron’s hands until it grew weak and the light went out of Magdud’s eyes.

  You have killed an orkkan sergeant. Doing so has earned you 150 XP.

  31

  After catching his breath and wiping away some of the blood covering his hands, Jaron limped around Vayvnu’s broken and battered body. The poor dragon did not look long for this world. Seeing such a proud magical being brought low made his heart ache. Jaron’s inability to heal her added to the sting. Without help she would certainly bleed out before she could recover enough to heal herself. He used analyze and saw that her mana did not seem to be regenerating on its own. Jaron’s stomach dropped when he realized what she had done. A swell of emotions well up inside him.

  “Why did you heal me?” he asked, looking into her golden eyes. “You needed it more than I did.”

  My injury cannot be healed by magic, Vayvnu thought at him. The harpoon prevents it.

  “Poison?”

  Vayvnu shook her head. Magic ward. So, you see, my best option was to save you.

  “I-I…” Jaron’s stomach sank again. “I cannot heal you. I’m sorry.” His apology felt hollow. “Let me try to remove the bolt. Then you can heal yourself.”

  “No,” Vayvnu said aloud. Her voice low, exhausted. “It would take my remaining strength, but perhaps…” her voice trailed off as she stared into his eyes and seemed to be thinking intently. “Yes, you can fulfill the promise and perhaps succeed where I failed.”

  Jaron’s eyebrows shot up at hearing her speak. Seeing her lips move like a human was odd to say the least. Then her words sank in.

  “Wait, what?” He took a wobbly step backwards. “What could I possibly do that you couldn’t?”

  Vayvnu tilted her giant head like a dog and blinked at him.

  “There is much good within you. I can sense it,” she said. “You are a being of destiny with a vast well of potential.”

  Jaron waved his hands. “No, no, no, no, no. Why do people keep saying that? I’m just a guy, just a normal dude. There’s nothing special about me. I’m good at some stuff but I’m not a being of destiny. What does that even mean?”

  Vayvnu eyed him closely and then her gaze shifted to something behind him.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Please, introduce me to your guardians,” she said, staring behind him.

  “My guardians?” Jaron asked like a dolt as he spun around and brought up his sword. Then it dawned on him. The secret arrow guy.

  The bushes at the bottom of a tree trembled. Leaves rustled in the shadows of the forest, a branch high in the tree shook and a snuffling sound came from behind a rock. Jaron’s gaze darted from location to location with a growing sense of apprehension. Tightening his grip on the cutlass, he braced for another battle.

  Jaron’s eyes grew wide as figures began to emerge from their hiding places.

  One little being on a tree branch hopped down from limb to limb until it came to a low branch and ran to the end. As the limb sank under his weight, the being leaped off in a tight summersaul
t. He spun through the air before landing lightly at the edge of the forest. Using his momentum, he tucked into a roll that carried him several feet, before hopping to his feet. A large, black and brown badger ran out to join him. Another figure seemed grow out of the bushes, wearing a green cloak seemingly made of leaves and moss. Her long braids twirled in the air as she cartwheeled across the ground and came to a stop beside her badger companion. The third figure darted out from the shadows. He wore dark leather armor and moved gracefully from cover to cover, until finally coming to a halt alongside his companions. Its badger stood from its hiding place and shook dirt out of its fur. It trotted over and nuzzled its master.

  Last, but not least, came a strong, proud figure riding atop a large badger with silver streaks in its fur. He stood with one foot on a tiny saddle and the other just behind the badger’s head. The badger came to an abrupt halt behind the first three companions and the small man leaped into the air, diving forward into a rather impressive combination of spins and flips, like a gymnast. The flourish ended with a forward combat roll and the figure bounded to his feet and standing at attention like a soldier.

  Jaron reeled back, exasperated. “Wha- Who- Why-,” he stuttered waving his hands. “Holy shit!”

  Who were these little people that moved like acrobats? Equally surprising was that all four had followed him virtually without detection. Jaron cocked an eyebrow. There was that one time along the ridge when he thought he glimpsed something in the forest. Could that have been these four?

  His brow furrowed and he growled accusingly, “You’ve been following me?”

  The leader turned his gaze to Jaron.

  “Yes,” he said simply with a nod. “You have been graced by the Mother and we aided you when appropriate.”