♫ Update, wooo oooooo! ♫
Anyway, good music for down and dangerous nighttime guerrilla combat
They had come again.
Whether they did not know of what he had done to their brethren in the north, or had mastered their fear and sought revenge, he did not know.
He had lit his watchfires in the woods to protect him as he slept, as he had always done, and soon after a pack of wolves had appeared. He sent them yipping away with a few arrows, leaving one dead, before he settled down to sleep.
Deebus did not sleep for long, however. A horrid laughter of many unworldly voices split the night, bringing Deebus to his feet in an instant. From the glow of his fires he saw a gallery of unnatural faces staring at him, those that had mouths peeled back in hideous grins. Many were eyeless, twitching long, horrible feelers around the edge of the circle. Deebus knew that they could not reach him as long as the fire burned, but he could not sleep while they waited to devour him. If they had forgotten their lesson from last time, then it was time they learned to fear kobold kind again.
As he readied an arrow to smite one of the evil spirits, though, he saw something thrashing in the darkness behind. No, not thrashing: flapping. A nearly skeletal creature with cavernous eyes leaped into the air and into the circle, stretching out its impossibly taut wings. Deebus thrust forth his spear, meeting only air as the spirit bobbed back. He thrust again, but it ducked and lunged for his leg, grabbing it in its mouth. Deebus could feel the pressure of the bite, though his bear-pelt stopped the spirit's teeth and he drove it back before it could begin worrying him about.
This spirit proved slippery, easily dodging two more of his strikes before tackling him to the ground. They repelled and stood up, Deebus barely blocking the next strike as the spirit recovered first. It began to strike faster and faster, kicking and punching him about the limbs. His padding was saving him from all but bruises, but it was getting through his defense. Suddenly, he felt a flash of pain in the finger, the end of it smashed open. Before the spirit could hurt him worse, he lunged at it, managing to nail its foot to the ground.
The injury wasn't through a very crippling part of the foot, though, as it responded with a kick to the head. Deebus felt his horse-skull smash against his ear, a warm pain radiating through the side of his face. All about him, the wicked spirits jeered and howled into the fire, lusting for his imminent painful death.
No. As the spirit seized his foot, preparing to twist his leg to breaking, Deebus used his other foot to bring himself upright and his spear into its chest in one swift motion. Bringing his other hand up, he brought his shield crashing into that horrible face and sent the creature reeling back. Deebus bashed it again, sending it tumbling backwards into the fire. He laid into it mercilessly, beating and stabbing it as it thrashed about and lashed at him in futility. With one spear-strike he spilled its filthy guts into the fire where they hissed and steamed, and with another he severed its bleeding foot. Finally, with one long, blood-curdling shriek, the spirit bled to death and dissolved.
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Topic: The journey of Deebus, a kobold story. (Read 193844 times)