Weaponless: The Beast
Dorus climbed up the rock face to where Torin was crouching. His upper left hand was carrying the bag over his back, the bag containing the wretched armor which was getting heavier and heavier, and all of the rest were sinking claws into the stone in order to climb. He placed one hand on the end of the boulder and pulled himself up so he could see what Torin was watching.
“Over by the second cliff,” The illusionist whispered. “Behind the boulder. See?”
In this state of the world, with the clouds constantly covering the skies, with ash and rubble omnipresent in the air, Dorus’ eyes were better than Torin and he spotted the creatures easily. They looked like a pack of mongrel, mangled dogs with some important parts subtracted and some strange parts added. They hovered over something, presumably the carcass of the last unfortunate being to travel through these passes.
“The opening is behind them. That is the road to the fort.” Torin said.
“And you can’t draw them away? Cast a copy, another body?”
“I can barely walk. If I try any magic stronger than fog I will most likely pass out. And fog is not something we’re missing.”
“I will take care of it then.”
“No, Dorus. Wait.” Torin didn’t want to shout but Dorus was already on the other side of the rock, climbing down, with the bag of hated armor still held in one of his hands. Torin wasn’t sure if he wanted to watch this or not. This ordeal will end badly for both sides. The only question is which would be the worst for wear.
Dorus walked slowly, stepping lightly on the ground, trying to mask his presence. His sandals crushed rubble underneath his feet and it was obvious that it was only a matter of time before the hounds noticed him. He held the bag at his side, letting its edges unravel and open. Torin averted his eyes without a second thought this time. He knew what happens to those who gaze at the armor. Dorus took the armor out of the bag, letting the dark canvas fall to the ground. He had to use it. Without it he would be swiftly overrun. These hounds were a match for him but they were no match for the Beast. He put the armor on. It was the screams that told Torin he could open his eyes again.
When he turned to look, something was already ripping through the demon hounds but it wasn’t Dorus anymore. Not completely. It was a beast, as tall as Dorus, with his peculiar skin color, four arms and claws but it wore that hellish piece of metal from which wings sprouted to several arm lengths each. It was hard to see what exactly was happening from where the illusionist was perched but it was probably best. The hounds were circling it, searching for the open spot, the tender spot, a time and place to lunge and bite and tear and shred. One of them launched at its back, attempting to bite one of its wings but almost as soon as it had grabbed a hold, one of the beast’s strong arms reached back and pulled it away. The hound tried to claw and gnaw but all four hands, each with its big strong talons, took hold of the thing and literally pulled it apart, throwing the writhing bits to the ground. The other hounds did not give up and jumped him two or three at once. One was impaled with a powerful jab. Another caught in mid-flight as the beast’s talons sunk into its stomach. The third impacted and sent the beast to the ground. It tossed the hound still twisting in its grasp over the edge of the cliff and shed the one hanging from his arm while focusing all of its attention and dexterity on the third. There were only two now and the last was about to take advantage of the new situation but the beast wrenched away the one on top of it and threw it at the remaining hound. Both of the demons went flying several meters, sliding to a stop on rubble strewn ground.
Both adversary factions got to their feet, eyeing each other fatefully. The beast’s eyes glowed and fumed, sickly green vapors rose from its sockets. It was hard for Torin to see it at this distance but he had witnessed it all before. The hounds seemed to consider whether they could still vanquish this strange foe then thought better of it and scuttled away.
Torin slid down the rocks and ran towards the beast as it was still preoccupied with the departing demon hounds. It looked around for more that might attack it and now it was facing Torin. He looked up at it but its elongated, beaky face with full, bright green eyes was unreadable. At once it both still looked like Dorus and was nothing like him. It was hardly visible in its eyes but Torin knew of the inner struggle, the beast trying to take hold and Dorus fighting it back and trying to direct its power at the same time. Torin raised his hand and painted an intricate symbol in the space between them. Shining letters shimmered in the air then sunk and faded. The beast’s eyes flickered, it seemed to try and remain standing but fell to the ground in a short rumble of heavy limbs.
It was a simple sleep spell with an inner anchor for increased effect. Torin and Dorus worked it out between them the last time something like this happened. It allowed one to remove the wretched armor without risking dismemberment from an angry beast. Torin dropped to his knees and started undoing the clasp.
Posted in From the Writing Desk by Eran with comments disabled.