It was dawn. Urdim squinted as he watched the sun rise.
Breakfast was alligator meat. He surveyed his map. According to the rumors, the next lair was in a few hours of travel to the south. Maybe more, since he could not stand straight anymore. The foot would not heal and was badly infected. He tried to sleep it off and rested for several days, but it didn't help. He did not know of a doctor who would help him; if it still would not heal, he would have another reason to find a mountainhome. They usually had hospitals and if he found a doctor, they should be able to help.
He crawled on. Even not being able to stand, he was now an accomplished fighter, so he was pretty confident. He would destroy the second creature of night in the next lair and then proceed to Roofbowel. It was his responsibility as a protector of his kinsmen, after all.
A river. He crawled nearer and put his foot in the water, letting the flowing water clean it and cool it down. He still could not feel a thing with it.
He crossed the river cautiously, wary of any dangers that might lurk in the water.
Several hours later, he was getting closer to the lair when he saw a figure in the distance. It was heading his way.
I am Stral Noseslushed, - it announced in a dry, low voice. Then with giant leaps it started to close the distance between them.
Urdim's heart filled with fear. A mummy! Almost forgetting about his foot, he tried to back away, but there was no chance of escaping in his condition. He took the first thing there was in his backpack: a copper battleaxe he picked up at some point of his journey. Swinging his arm, he hurled it at the bandaged enemy, but missed.
The mummy jumped at him, but he blocked the attack with his shield. The blows came raining. They were incredibly fast, but his reflexes kept up. He blocked several slashes of the mummy's slicing knife and struck with the pick, but the mummy easily dodged the attack. Then the same thing happened. And again. The mummy attacked in a flurry of strikes, he blocked and counterattacked, but the mummy would dodge or parry. He struck with his right leg and managed a leg lock on the mummy's head. As he was preparing to throw it down, the mummy slashed at his right foot and cut it off. Urdim screamed and struck with the pick, missing the mummy. The mummy kept striking, he blocked, but the things were getting worse. He was bleeding. He missed every time.
The mummy reached his leg and tore it apart.
He blocked and blocked and blocked, but his hits never landed.
The mummy stabbed his leg and twisted its knife in the wound. Urdim's eyes widened with pain and terror. It slashed his left leg and it sailed off in an arc. Then the mummy struck his wielding arm with a free hand. Urdim felt his hands lose strength and he dropped the pick.
He finally gave in.