by Rachel Ford
Migli, somehow, outpaced him. How a three-foot dwarf could run faster than a six-foot man, he wasn’t quite sure. Videogame physics again.
But he found himself annoyed with the dwarf’s cowardice. Some prince you are. “Chicken scratch.”
Migli ignored the mangled insult. They came to a halt on a sunny bit of road. The swine scattered into the forest around them, sticking to the shadow. Jack breathed a sigh of relief. “We need to get the heck out of here before night,” he decided.
Granted, it was what Migli had been saying all along. But now he knew for himself the reason why.
The run-like-a-chickenshit strategy worked the first four or five times. But the sun was setting, and the shadows drew longer. And finally, by the fifth try, the AI anticipated his move.
Jack and Migli neared the end of a patch of sunlit road, and straight ahead of them were the Susmala – the great one with the scar, and three lesser pig demons.
He turned around, wondering if there was some way to double back and cut through the forest. Four more Susmala stood there, their eyes glowing a hateful yellow at the edge of the shadow.
“Now comes the moment when we draw blades together, Sir Knight,” Migli said gravely. “May the gods be with us, and may we prevail. But if we do not, know that we have died with honor.”
Dying – with or without honor – wasn’t top on Jack’s agenda. Not at the hands – or tusks – of pig demons. “Alright,” he said. “We need a strategy.”
“Fight with honor,” the dwarf nodded.
“Yeah, I’m going to need a little more detail than that. Listen, how about this? We’re surrounded, right? We can get to either side, but they can’t get to us. So we need to pick them off, one by one. Let’s start with the guys behind us.” It made sense to clear their retreat, if they needed to retreat. But, also, Jack didn’t want to fight the scarred pig demon. Not until he’d figured out how to kill these things anyway.
He moved toward the shadows behind him. The Susmala snorted out great blasts of mist and stomped up clouds of dust. They chomped their teeth and came as near as they dared to the edge.
Jack swallowed hard, and then charged forward. He jumped, one of those impossibly high jumps, and vaulted over the first pig demon. He landed blade first on the second. The sword shivered and then plunged through its thick hide, deep into the tissue behind its neck. He twisted the blade from side to side, and he felt more than flesh give way.
The pig squealed and grunted, and then slumped to the earth in a puddle of black blood. One down, three to go.
The move had taken the other swine by surprise. This gave Jack about a second and a half of advantage. He wasted none of it, leaping up, toward the next in line for death.
But the Susmala didn’t go down without a fight. As Jack propelled himself into the air, the pig leaped too. It caught the broadsword between two of its tusks and wrenched its head hard to the side. The sword went flying in one direction. The crown of the pig’s head careened into Jack a second later, and he went flying in the other.
“Bleep!” He jumped to his feet, just as one of the other Susmala reached him. All he had now was a bow, which was useless at this range, and a dagger, which wasn’t much better. A dagger was an up close and personal kind of weapon, which was exactly the opposite of what he wanted to do with these guys.
Still, he chose the best of the two terrible choices. And with his dagger in hand, he vaulted upward. His free hand grasped at a thick, low-hanging bow, and he grabbed a good hold just as the boar’s tusks reached his legs.
The double tusks cut through his leggings and deep into his flesh. His health meter dropped a third, and alerts ran through his thoughts.
Right leg, crippled.
Left leg, crippled.
He yanked himself, and the dead weight of his legs, up onto the branch and fished out one of his healing potions. He still had two-thirds of his health, but that wasn’t going to do him much good without being able to walk.
He popped the cork and drank down the sugary sweet beverage. He felt the use of his legs return. “Alright you rascals, now you’re going to pay.”
He swapped the dagger for his bow. He only had five arrows, so he took his time aiming. The Susmala were in a frenzy at the base of the tree, battering the trunk with their great tusks. It was a solid old thing, but every now and then one of the hits would shake it to the roots.
Jack picked one of the demons – one that was angled toward him. He remembered how much resistance the first one’s hide had given, so he aimed for the eye. He drew a deep, steadying breath and loosed the shot.
The Susmala lurched backward, spasmed once, and then collapsed in a heap. The others picked up their frantic dance of death now. They moved faster and squealed louder. They beat the tree mercilessly, and it rocked more frequently than before.
Jack took aim at another. He couldn’t get a clear shot to either eye. It was moving too fast for that. But he held his breath, waited until the creature started to turn its head, and loosed the arrow.
It clattered harmlessly against its tusks.
Three arrows left. Two pigs. I can do this.
He took another breath. The tree rocked, and he had to catch himself before he plummeted to his death. Then he steadied himself and aimed at the other pig. This time, he hit. The arrow went in a few inches above the eye, burying itself perhaps an inch deep. He hadn’t pierced the skull. He’d only pissed the thing off.
And had he ever. It dragged its tusks in wild, angry swipes up and down the trunk, pulling long strips of bark and then wood free.
There was no way he’d get a good shot at its face. But Jack figured he might be able to get one into the back of his head. He aimed just below the skull, right where the neck joined the head.
He loosed the shot, and whooped with delight as it hit its mark. Meeting the pig demons might have made him forget it for a minute. But Jack Owens was one hell of a player. He’d played every type of video game ever made, and he’d specifically devoted thousands of hours to Marshfield Studio games. His intense, almost obsessive, attention to detail in their worlds was one of the reasons they’d hired him as a beta tester.
He smiled smugly. Well, that’ll make some damned good footage for their promotional videos, won’t it?
Then the last boar barreled into the tree, furious puffs of steam raising from its nostrils. The tree shook – just enough to knock Jack from his perch.
“Bleep.” It was an inauspicious last word. But it was his last word. He landed straight on the monster’s tusks.
Chapter Eight
He respawned right before the fight, and he followed roughly the same plan. He vaulted over the first Susmala and took down the second. This time, though, he didn’t waste time – or a healing potion – trying to pull the same trick on another swine. He jumped straight up to the branch and reached it without taking damage – or losing his sword.
He took the same shot through the eye and dropped the second pig. He saved the wasted arrow and went straight for the back of the third pig’s head. Two arrows, two pigs.
That left only the one who had killed him last time. He wrapped his legs around the branch and took his shot. His aim was off, and it went wide, landing in the tree trunk. He still had two arrows, though, so he wasn’t worried.
He shot again, and at the same moment the Susmala leaped. The shot missed. Now he had one arrow left, and a very angry pig demon.
He took a steadying breath and fired the last arrow. It went straight into the Susmala’s hide. It roared and seethed, but other than a little pain, seemed unfazed. “Dangnabbit.”
The beast did the same trick with attacking the tree, and Jack realized his time was limited. He had to act, and fast, or else he was going to wind up in the same straits as last time.
So he drew his dagger and put it between his teeth. Then he drew his broadsword, and leaped point first off the tree toward the final Susmala.
It turned from the trunk and jumped at him, catching the blade
between its twin tusks. Jack didn’t hold on and he didn’t fight. The pig twisted his head to the side to fling the blade away. Jack grabbed the dagger from between his teeth and plunged it straight toward the Susmala’s eye socket.
It went in easily, without any resistance; and the pig went down.
Jack caught his breath, retrieved his sword, and then turned his attention to looting his fallen foes. He was able to harvest meat from all four. He wasn’t quite sure how he felt about eating demon flesh. But, he told himself it probably tasted like porkchop, and he liked porkchops.
He was able to harvest tusks from two of the four dead, too. They had mystery properties, but he couldn’t tell what yet.
He was also able to retrieve a single arrow from one of the downed demons.
But most satisfying of all, a series of thoughts entered his mind.
You’ve gained a level in archery.
You’ve gained a level in dexterity.
You’ve gained a character level.
That was a pretty sweet reward for a difficult fight, and he looked around for Migli. “We did it, dude.”
The dwarf was standing at the edge of the shadow, humming about dragons and gold. Jack frowned. The fact was, he couldn’t actually remember Migli doing anything to help him. He couldn’t even remember him taking part in the fight.
“Where were you, Migli?”
“A difficult fight,” the dwarf said, “but well done. We make a formidable team, my friend.”
Jack harrumphed. “Alright. Well, let’s go get those other guys. I’ve only got one arrow, so we’re going to have to figure out something that doesn’t rely on ranged fighting. Which means, you’re going to have to pull your weight.”
Migli ignored the comment. “Shall we proceed?”
He nodded and didn’t wait for the dwarf to usher him forward. He just went. The four Susmala were waiting where he’d left them. He stopped a few yards ahead of the shadow. It had grown longer in the interval, as the sun had dipped a little lower in the west.
The giant pig demon stared at him and snorted, licking its teeth greedily. Despite having just dispatched four of these things, this one still sent a shiver up his back. He figured he could probably take the other three easily enough if he danced in and out of the shadow. But this one?
He didn’t know. The Susmala seemed to sense his fear. It squealed and growled and stomped the earth.
But what it didn’t do was move its head. It was staring straight at him. Right in line…for the perfect shot.
Jack had only one arrow left, but one arrow through the eye had been all it took to fell the other pig demon. So he nocked his last arrow and aimed for the beast’s eye. It stared at him, gleaming with murderous intent.
Jack loosed the shot, and it flew straight and true. The Susmala shivered as the arrow stuck into its eye socket and collapsed to its knees.
But then, black blood staining its dark, leathery face, it pushed to its feet.
“Well stuff-and-nonsense,” Jack said. Somehow, the monster had survived. Now, it looked even angrier and more murderous than before. “Alright, new plan Migli. We’re going to fight like cowards. Run into the shadow, strike, get out.”
It worked well for the first several strikes. He got a couple of good blows into one of the smaller pigs and dodged their attacks. One of them got a little close to the edge of the shadow. The end of a tusk dipped into the sunlight, and instantly turned to stone.
Jack stared in fascination. He was in sunlight, so he had the option to stand still for a few moments. The tip of the tusk had morphed from off white to gray, the smooth surface of the ivory pocking and rippling like rough granite as he watched.
“Huh. Well that’s handy.” He glanced around, wondering if there was any way he could turn that vulnerability into a win for himself. But he didn’t see one. He couldn’t get to the trees without being in shadow, and he didn’t have a saw. And even if he somehow got around those setbacks, he doubted very much the monsters would stand around and let him saw down the tree they were standing under.
So he turned his mind back to more practical solutions. He’d injured two of the pigs, and one of them rather significantly. It was losing a lot of blood, and it limped when it moved. The others seemed to have picked up on his strategy, though, because they moved in front of the wounded Susmala.
He thought about jumping like he’d done in the first fight – vaulting over the frontmost swine and finishing off this one in the rear. Then again, they’d watched him do that to their compatriots. And something told him the scarred boar wouldn’t let him get away with it a second time.
So Jack turned his attention in that direction. This was the leader of the four, that much was obvious. He’d already taken a wound, though clearly not a fatal one.
Still, Jack set to work harassing the big pig, siphoning off his hit points. He ducked into the shadow to swipe here and jab there. Most of his hits barely made contact. A few of them almost turned into disasters. The big pig was faster than any of the others; and they were already insanely quick.
Still, he kept doing it for a good minute or so. Then he sprang, vaulting over the other pigs and onto the injured one in the rear.
It worked. The big pig was so wrapped up in their back and forth, he didn’t anticipate this move. So Jack got past him and delivered his killing blow.
Then, he ran and jumped and darted and dodged like hell. The other three pigs fell on him in a frenzy, and every time he tried to jump back to the sunlight, the leader of the trio leaped for him.
Somehow, instead of getting out of the shadow, the Susmala drove him further into it. It took everything he had to avoid being skewered – and it wasn’t enough to save himself from a thousand swipes and gashes.
He threw a desperate glance around. He was bleeding like crazy. His hit points had dropped to about half and were steadily declining. But there were no low hanging branches like before, and no unnoticed patches of sunlight either. There was nowhere to climb, and nowhere to go.
So he tried to run. That didn’t work either. The big pig jabbed one of his twin tusks into his side and threw him onto the ground. His health meter dropped to just under a quarter. Blood pooled in the dirt.
He couldn’t feel pain, but he felt weakness and fear. And he smelled blood. His own blood.
The scarred Susmala stomped his hooves in the dirt and charged. Jack went to raise his sword, but realized it lay a good four feet away in the dust. “Dangnabbit.”
He drew his dagger instead and pushed to his feet. He was a dead man. He knew that. But he wasn’t going to go out without a fight.
And then, a strange groan filled the air. A moment later, sunlight washed over the path. The big pig turned to stone, and two and a half of the other pigs beside him did the same. A half, because one of the Susmala’s head and shoulders remained in shadow. Its hindquarters had turned to solid stone, though.
Jack didn’t quite understand what had just happened, but he had the presence of mind to scramble toward his blade and finish the half-pig off. Then, when all four had been duly dispatched, he looked around.
Migli stood by a great downed tree, his massive axe in hands, and an equally broad grin spread across his features. “Good work distracting them for me, Jack. I wouldn’t have been able to take the tree down if you hadn’t kept them busy.”
Jack blinked, first at the downed tree, then at the Susmala statuary, and then at Migli. “That was…you?”
The dwarf nodded. “You seemed to have your hands full, so I figured you could use a little help. Nothing like sunlight to drive away demons.”
“Huh. Wow. That was…actually really good thinking. Thanks, Migli.”
“Come, sir knight: the sun will soon set. We must be out of these woods before that happens.”
There wasn’t much to loot this time. He got a slab of pork from the half-stone Susmala, and another from the first of the band he’d killed. Neither had tusks he could harvest. So they moved on.
“I am no mage, Sir Knight. But the witches say they contain powerful magic.”
“What kind of magic?”
“That’s a question for a mage, I’m afraid.”
Jack nodded. His guess, then, had been right: they’d get into magic soon. In the meantime, he kept walking. The journey so far and the fights had worked up an appetite, plus his health was low. He figured eating might help replenish his health meter without wasting a healing potion. And even if it didn’t, it’d get rid of the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach.
He fished through his pocket for food. He had raw demon pork, which looked about as appetizing as it sounded. He passed by it, and the stew too. He didn’t want to be trying to eat stew and walking at the same time.
Instead, he drew out the roast. It smelled as fresh and mouthwatering as when he’d stuffed it into his magical pocket. It was still hot, too – so hot, it burned his fingers.
But with a few minor burns and a lot of juggling, he managed to hold onto it while it cooled enough to eat. He took a bite.
Never in Jack’s life had he repented being stingy as much as he did now. The food tasted like cardboard. Not figuratively. It tasted like literal cardboard. He almost gagged. He figured the flavor was because he’d skipped the salt.
The apple pie he’d eaten earlier tasted like real apple pie. Hell, it tasted better than real food. So he knew the game could replicate flavors. This had to be some kind of heavy-handed guidance on the part of the developers, like their arbitrary weight and value system.
Still, he needed to eat, and he wasn’t quite sure he could make it through another bite. So he said, “Speak to supervisor.”
Migli turned around. “Yo, what’s up, dude?”
“Richard, this tastes like arse.” He scowled at the substitution, which, he felt, didn’t come close to conveying the actual horror of the flavor.
“Actually, that’s cardboard.”
“What?”
“The flavor you’re tasting: it’s cardboard.”