[Warning: Injury Detail Bears and She-orcs alike.]
Bron’s advice to lie low was good, but Rhun awoke with a raging hunger. She began scouring the area around the campsite for anything that could be edible. Fortunately, the thin layer of snow had melted away as a light rain fell.
She gathered mushrooms, roots, or even grass. On the way back from the manor, they had made a roughly shaped pot out of some metal from a destroyed carriage. The orc boiled the terrible stew, and its stench wafted back into her face. Rhunal choked back a dry retch. If she had anything in her stomach, she would have hurled the contents immediately. Individually the items did not have much odor. Even the mushrooms had a fairly neutral smell by themselves.
Perhaps cooking it for a while would burn out the worst of the taste? Almost as a portent, dark clouds formed, blocking out the sun. The light rain became a deluge as the clouds kept building. A major storm was on the way. The sky darkened with every passing minute.
She reluctantly took a wooden spoon, and tested the putrid, plant broth, spitting it out in disgust.
The fire was spitting from the constant rain. Lightning, once far away, landed closer and closer. A boom of thunder exploded right over her head, so loud it surprised her.
"Little cockroach! Turn around and fight!" a voice called from the sky.
The insult was a surprise, but the massive shadow looming over her, created by the lightning, was more alarming. She heard loud breathing and a low, huge growl behind her. In the noise of the storm, the smoke, and the sizzling fire, the monster bear had crept up on her.
Rhun spun around on her heels, grabbing for her short sword. She got her hand around the hilt and lifted it free of her make-shift scabbard. Two massive paws scooped her up in a crushing embrace. Rhunal gasped from the pressure, and the sword dropped from her hands. The paws pinned her in place, crushing her against the bear, and their grip sliced her back to the shoulder blades.
Her bones creaked from the pressure as it compressed her torso against its body. But her orcish bones held firm at least for a moment. In front of her was a wall of fur capped by a visage full of teeth. Her hands fiercely pushed against something, anything, to fight back.
Another flash of lightning illuminated the beast, and Rhunal saw a patch of bare skin, from an old burn, along the side of its neck and jaw. She slammed upwards against the bear’s chin with both hands, kicked upwards with her heels, and shot out of its crushing grip, only freeing herself from its claws by tearing her skin further. Pain screamed down her back, followed by the slick feeling of flowing blood. The bear’s neck muscles flexed as it resisted her desperate upward shove.
Rhunal bared her own fangs and tusks and bit down deeply into the thick neck where the artery would be. Her long teeth went deep, but the animal’s bull-neck gave a lot of protection.
The beast fought back at the green devil tearing at it. Its claws raked across her back as it grabbed at her again, cracking a couple more ribs. The build-up of injuries was becoming critical, and Rhunal knew her bleeding was becoming deadly. But, the exchange of wounds emboldened her and the Blood Rage was building in her soul, blocking out almost all the pain. Her skin became red from the influence of the Rage. Finally, she ripped her teeth clear of the bear’s neck, taking a sizeable chunk of its flesh with her.
The beast howled and staggered back. Its grip lessened, but it did not let go. Rhunal got a quick look at her opponent’s face for the first time. Weeks ago she had slashed it across the left eye with shards of flying sword chunks. Ragged stripes of fur were still missing from its face, but the eye was perfectly recovered. The beast had a potent ability to regenerate wounds. The orc had time for one spell, but rather than one of her offensive spells, she had an idea.
“Let’s see you regenerate the eye this time!” she shouted.
Rhunal channeled her chosen spell, then forced her hand against the creature’s left eye. The spell, a flare for illumination, flashed into existence inside the creature’s eye socket, searing the eye and everything around it away. The bear howled in pain, unclasping its grip around her back as it flailed its paws outward in a moment of agony.
For a crucial moment she was free. The she-orc kicked away from the bear’s chest, landing on her feet. She could feel her back slick with blood, could feel it running down her entire body. At any other time she’d already be unconscious, but the power of the storm and her blood rage was propping her up. The bear righted itself, its eye-socket was a charred circle, but the fire was out. It stood motionless for a moment, its right eye fixed on her in nothing less than pure hatred.
“I. REMEMBER. YOU!” It roared in a sequence. The words on her forearm glowed silver as she heard meaning in its roars. “YOU. ARE. PREY!”
Thanks to the power of the storm and her Blood Rage, she was already channeling her fireball, the first she’d cast in her life. The energy of it built up in her body. The sheer power of it made her feel bolder, stronger, and better. She knew that fire-casting allowed the God of Inferno into the mind, and she welcomed it. Hatred for her opponent built in her mind, an invasive emotion that did not come from within.
“You hate fire? Come and get some more! You think I’m prey? Fool! I’m just like you, a predator!” She leaned forward, challenging the animal to rush forward with every aspect of her wide stance.
It charged, tearing the ground under its feet in its rage, but she unleashed the massive fireball right into its path. The explosion slammed into its right shoulder, blasted away dense fur and thick hide and rocked it back, but it quickly regained its balance. When it rushed forward again, Rhunal unleashed a second fireball which landed right across its neck. Its right eye survived the blast, but the flash of light and fire momentarily blocked its vision.
It stumbled forward, slashing blindly, and barreled into Rhunal in a mass of fire and claws. She tried to spring clear, but either by instinct or luck, the back of one hurtling paw shattered her iron jaw, snapped off her tusk, and sent her flying backwards out of the campsite. The blow knocked her senseless, tumbling down the hill into the dense brush below.
The bear, on fire and smoldering, roared mournfully as it charged out of the campsite, snapping trees, crushing bushes, and lighting fires as it ran through everything in its path.
Comments (14)
See all