by Adam Drake
The other pech looked to its companion in alarm, and Rob lunged forward to slash it across the chest.
The pech yelled and swung its shock stick wildly, whacking it against the buckler.
The shock bit savagely into Rob's arm, and he grimaced against the pain. Even knowing what the pain was like, he could never really be prepared for it.
Rob tried to swing at the pech, but it danced away.
For several moments they swung at one another, each dodging the other's attacks.
Rob's apprehension was off the scale. Other pech were coming to this spot at that very moment. He had to go.
The pech he'd struck with the Sun Bolt recovered and rejoined the fray, the skin on its face burnt red. It charged at Rob heedlessly, shock stick held out straight.
Rob swung and caught the stick in the middle, snapping it in two. The running pech collided with his buckler, its spikes biting into the being's armor.
The other pech jabbed Rob in the gut, and he felt his legs go rubbery beneath him. Stumbling backward, the two pech closed in on him.
Gritting his teeth, Rob swung at the burned pech catching it across the throat. Blood fountained from the wound and gushed over the buckler. As the pech collapsed, the other pech jabbed Rob in the gut again.
You have killed a Pech Warrior. You have gained 350 experience points toward your next level.
Moaning with pain, Rob suddenly vomited over himself and stars danced across his vision. He dropped to his knees and his arms went limp.
The pech stood over him, grinning. It looked up to call out to its companions.
Through his haze, Rob saw something on the ground by his knee. As quick as he could, he dropped his axe and picked up the broken shock stick and stabbed it into the crotch of the pech.
The pech's shouts turned to horrid gasps and its eyes rolled in the back of its head. As it doubled over, Rob retrieved his axe and brought it down on the back of the pech's neck.
You have killed a Pech Warrior. You have gained 350 experience points toward your next level.
More shouts, this time close by and from all directions.
Rob ran the only way that didn't seem to have pech chasing after him. As he raced through the trees, he could hear the sounds of pursuit behind him.
He was struck with an image of himself, hands bound, with a metal bit in his mouth, sitting in one of the stockades, surrounded by his people who all stared at him in disappointment.
A pech suddenly popped out from behind a tree in front of him, but its back was turned, looking around.
It whirled at the sound of his approach and Rob charged into it with a running Shield Bash.
The surprised pech was sent flying into the bushes, its shock stick pinwheeling away.
Rob kept running, altering his course as the sounds of the pech drew closer. From somewhere ahead he could hear the rumbling of water.
As he ran through a small clearing, three pech appeared to his left. Shouting, they chased after him. He had a dozen paces distance on them, but it wouldn't take much for them to catch up.
Suddenly, he broke through the trees into a clearing next to the high banks of a river. A pech standing further down the banks spotted him and shouted.
Rob ran for the river. It was his only hope of escape.
A shock stick suddenly whizzed over his shoulder. A backward glance showed a half dozen pech running out of the trees into the clearing. They were throwing their shock sticks like spears .
Hey, that's not fair! Rob thought as he tried to pick up speed. A shock stick glanced off his left shoulder. The electric pain instantly blossomed over his side, and his buckler arm went limp.
Cursing, Rob zigzagged as he ran. Several other sticks missed him as a result.
There were more shouts from behind, but he didn't look, his focus was on reaching the river bank.
Only a few paces away from it, he was hit by a shock stick on his right hip. Then another landed against the back of his neck. Suddenly, his entire body seized up with convulsions. He couldn't move his arms or legs.
But his forward momentum carried him along and he pitched over the ledge.
He splashed into the river and was instantly submerged.
As his body bobbed to the surface, he found himself completely paralyzed. He was quickly pulled along by the frothing waves of the river.
His last conscious vision was of the pech standing on the banks of the river, shaking their fists in anger.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Floating down a river while unconscious is not good for one's hit points. Rob learned this the hard way when he opened his eyes to find himself underwater.
Alarmed, he tried to swim, but his arms and legs were like pillars of lead. Fortunately, the strong river current carried him over a series of rapids, bringing his head above the surface.
He coughed and sputtered up water, only to be dragged below, again. The rocky riverbed raced by his vision as he attempted to swim. His right arm was moving as if controlled by someone else. The left arm still had his buckler, its tight straps digging into his flesh.
Suddenly, he surfaced. He coughed up water and gasped, his lungs starving for air.
The rapids diminished, and the current slowed, but only a little. He made several attempts to grab onto an exposed boulder, but only managed to collide with them and bounce away.
The feeling in his legs slowly returned, and he kicked them, desperate to gain some form of control. He was in the middle of the river, the shores on both sides speeding past.
You have learned a new skill: Swimming
Advancement in this skill will allow you swim in strong currents and hold your breath underwater for long periods of time.
Rob tried to curse the message, but got a mouth full of water for his troubles.
He used his right arm to paddle toward the shore and kicked his legs with all his strength. If he could get close enough, he might be able to snag an overhanging branch, or an outcropping of rocks.
From over the din of the river's noise, a deep consistent rumbling could be heard. In seconds it got louder.
Pulled around a turn in the river he caught a glimpse of a line of frothing water ahead. His tired mind screamed at him in alarm.
Waterfall!
Despite his sapped energy, he doubled his efforts to reach shore, but the current was getting stronger as the water was pulled over the falls.
You have advanced in Swimming! Skill has increased from 1% to 2%.
Ahead, a tree on the shore had fallen into the river, its branches stripped of leaves by the rushing water that surged over it.
Rob paddled and kicked until his muscles became numb with the effort. His buckler was hindering his movement, but he couldn't shake it loose.
Thankfully, the current did his work for him. It carried him along until he crashed in the fallen tree. But the water yanked him downward, and he flailed with his right arm, barely managing to wrap it around the tree's narrow trunk.
For several seconds, Rob held on, stunned as the water surged over his shoulders and around him.
Coughing up more water, he looked down the tree's trunk to the shore. It appeared to have fallen over with most of its roots still dug into the soft earth. He could see the entire mass of the tree moving up and down with the pulling of the water. It was barely holding his weight.
Almost there, baby-king, Rob thought, feeling the power of the river push against his back. Just keep moving.
With a grunt, he pulled his buckler arm up out of the water, and threw it over the tree. After taking several seconds to collect himself, he started to pull along the trunk, one arm movement at a time.
Inch by strength-sapping inch, he moved down the length of the tree. All the while the river conspired against him, threatening to pull him underneath and over the roaring falls.
He didn't know how long he did this, but it felt like an eternity. Soon, he got close enough to the shoreline that he could feel the river bottom. As he desperat
ely sought purchase against the current, he felt rocks jab the bottom of his feet. He realized he'd lost his boots.
Pulling harder and using his feet along the riverbed, he finally managed to pull up onto the shore.
He couldn't stand, so he crawled out of the shallow water and collapsed onto dry land.
Racked with bouts of coughing, he turned onto his side and wretched up what seemed like the entire river. His body was dead tired with every fiber of his being aching for rest. Unbidden, he fell asleep.
He woke with a start and sat up in alarm. The river raged past him and the roaring of the falls consumed all other sounds. Wiping water from his face, he looked around. He was on a small rocky beach with a mountain lording over him. A small path led away and up into the boulder strewn terrain.
He looked down at his bare feet, still submerged in the water. Well that sucks, he thought.
He suddenly noticed his health bar was down to twelve hit points. He fished out a medium potion to guzzle it. As he was about to pull out the stopper he remembered his Heal spell and looked to his mana which had regenerated to nineteen points.
Returning the potion to its bag, he cast his Heal spell. Instantly, his hit points began to increase.
Nice, he thought. When he felt strong enough, he stood up and looked himself over. Other than some rips and tears in this clothing and leather jerkin, he appeared no worse for wear.
Then he realized he wasn't holding his axe. He looked around the shore, but didn't see it. Panicked, he reentered the river up to his knees, searching the riverbed, but couldn't find it there, either.
Cursing up a storm, he alternated between searching the rocky shore and the riverbed for several minutes. But he knew it was futile. His axe was gone.
“Son of a bitch!” He shouted into the roar of the water. His axe! His beautiful bleeding axe!
Then another, more chilling realization hit him. He didn't have another weapon to use. In desperation, he pulled out the Sword of Pain from his soggy backpack, but still couldn't lift the tip more than a few inches off the ground. God damnit! He only needed one more strength point to wield the thing. But there were no other weapons in the pack because he had decided, like a dolt, not to bring any others along.
He could have brought the damn steel sword that he left in the manor. Or the damn steel sword that he'd taken off of Dodger.
“Idiot!” he said, in frustration. He'd lost his axe in the river and his dagger in the tunnel. All he was left armed with was a dented buckler, the helmet strapped to his head, and a shitty attitude.
Great. Now what was he suppose to do?
Standing around the shore wasn't going to improve things, and he really wanted to get away from the damned river. So he walked up the rocky shoreline, following the path.
He winced at every rock and pebble he stepped on with his bare feet, grumbling all the while. Going back to the slaver camp was the only thing he could think of doing. But what then? The pech knew about him now. Even if they thought he died in the river, they'd be on their guard.
Sullen, he followed the pathway which led him along the rocky terrain, parallel to the river. Soon, the water vanished from sight, although he could still hear it.
After a short while he noticed his mana bar had regenerated to its halfway point, so he drank a medium mana potion to speed up the process. He might not have any physical weapons to use, but he still had Sun Bolt, although he was limited to two castings of it.
Gotta work with what you got, he thought. As he walked he tried to judge how far away he had to go before he reached the camp, again. Fortunately, he had pulled up to shore on the same side. If he ended up on the opposite side, he'd never be able to cross.
Checking his map, he could see the camp plainly marked as Pech Camp. But he had no idea how to judge the distance. An hour's walk or more? He didn't know.
As he slid the Location Scroll back into its bag, he noticed a small cave up ahead.
Moving toward it, he caught a glint of something shiny inside. What was that?
Suddenly, a shadow passed over him.
Instinctively, he quickly moved over to press against a large boulder and looked up.
The dragon flew through the sky. But it was a fair distance away and heading up river. He caught several brief glimpses of it through the canopy, then it was gone.
Was it the same one? Ynette had used the plural, dragons, when she warned him about them.
Rob shuddered to think there were other giant monsters flying about. His encounter with one was more than enough. He swore never to have anything to do with dragons again.
With the dragon gone, he walked to the small cave and peered inside. The roof was low, and it extended into the rock a dozen paces or so, barely constituting a cave, more of an alcove. As he squinted, he could see some items strewn along the ground at the back wall.
Enough sunlight entered the cave to allow him to see, but he didn't want to risk missing something, like another trap, and cast Light.
With the alcove brightened, he could see the items at the back were that of a human skeleton, clad in tattered clothes. It held within one skeletal hand a strange-looking object. Rob's heart jumped. It appeared to be a weapon.
Cautiously, he ducked through the entrance and moved toward the skeleton. As he got closer, he recognized the weapon to be a mace, with a round head covered in jagged spikes.
“Oh, nice,” Rob said. Just what he needed.
Behind him, something moved into the entrance of the cave, casting a shadow on the floor.
Startled, Rob spun around.
A giant brown lion stood at the entrance, its eyes on Rob. From its upper jaw protruded two enormously thick fangs which curved past the sides of its chin.
As Rob looked in surprise, it paused to watch him, its long tail flicking back and forth.
Creature: Sabretooth Tiger
Hit Points: 100, Mana: 0
Armor: 5, Speed: 13
Rob stared at the tiger, wide-eyed. “Oh, crap,” he said.
The tiger's deep growl rumbled around the little cave. It took a step forward, its paws as big as dinner plates.
He had to get to the mace, and fast.
Pulling his buckler closer to his body, Rob raised his free hand and said, “Easy, kitty.” He slowly stepped backwards.
Being called kitty only seemed to agitate the giant feline, and it took several steps closer, growling louder.
“God, damn, you're a big bastard, aren't you?” Rob said. It probably outweighed him, twice over. He took another step back, glancing at his mana bar. Seventeen. If he hadn't cast Light he'd have enough for two Sun Bolts. But now he could only defend himself with one.
The big cat suddenly sprung forward, front paws raised, mouth wide.
Rob backpedaled and cast Sun Bolt. The beam hit the leaping cat on its side, but not before it reached him.
The lion landed against him, slamming against his shield. Its massive twin fangs bit down over the buckler's edge, and it slashed at him with its claws.
Rob shouted in pain and terror as the claws easily tore through his leather jerkin and into his chest and shoulders.
If the Sun Bolt had done any damage, the cat didn't show it, caught up in its furious attack.
Rob found himself suddenly pressed up against the cave wall, Sabretooth tiger gnawing at his buckler and shredding his flesh.
He tried to push at the creature, but it was incredibly heavy. For several seconds, the beast ravaged unhindered.
Somehow Rob managed to push the big cat back onto its haunches.
Stepping forward with all his weight he slammed into the tiger with a full Shield Bash. He felt the impact as his buckler cracked against the beast's head and oversized teeth.
Hissing in pain, the tiger leapt away, shaking its huge head.
Bleeding and in great pain, Rob forced himself to turn away from the creature and lunged for the mace on the floor.
You have taken an item: Mace of Anguish
Damage: 5-10
+1 Damage
5% chance to render a target unconscious for 10 seconds.
Value: 2 gold pieces
Hefting the heavy mace, Rob spun about to catch the tiger leaping at him with a roar.
He ducked behind his buckler as the beast crashed into him. His bare feet stepped on the bones of the skeleton and caused him to slip and lose his balance.