|
Tonight I was bored at work, so I took this challenge and ran with it. Here are the results.
The moon hung low over the barren landscape, flooding it with an eerie light. Goddess watch over me, I muttered to myself as I jogged lightly over the desert, disturbing the sand slightly and leaving bootprints in my wake. Much had to be accomplished; I had put off some of my missions too long and the deadlines loomed large. I paused a moment on the crest of a small hill to coat my daggers with the poison I had crafted that afternoon. Fumbling for the vials in my pack, I didn’t see it coming.
I felt the sting before I could turn around, dropping my pack and vials as I hunched over in pain, stunned. Unable to respond, the monster attacked again, this time with a lash of its armored tail. The second hit nearly sent me reeling, but I managed to pull my daggers out of their holsters and hit out at the creature, managing to land a single strike. Damn scorpids, I swore as the creature struck me with its thick claw and again attempted to sting me with that terrible tail. I dodged the attack, moving low and aiming for the scorpid’s joints. Even without their poison coating, my sharp daggers could still do terrible damage when properly applied.
Getting into the rhythm of strike, dodge, strike I lulled the creature into expecting my next move. Instead I viciously gouged the creature with the dagger in my main hand, dazing the scorpid and allowing me to slip to the side, sliding my dagger ruthlessly into a soft spot present on its back. I managed to strike another blow before the scorpid came to its senses and attempted another hit with its tail. With an evasive maneuver I avoided the lashing tail and the slashing claws while still attempting to place my dagger into the joints of the monster. Eventually I got angry and let loose a barrage of hits with my dagger, slicing and dicing the scorpid to shreds.
When the monster hit the ground with a thud, I stepped back to admire my handiwork: I had completely disjointed the scorpid, despite its tough exoskeleton. At least I could get something out of the kill: taking my dagger, I sliced off a section of the tail and fished out the small venom sac present there. Sitting down between the lifeless corpse of my foe and my hastily dropped pack, I collected my things and placed them back carefully into their slots, including the newly acquired venom sac. I paused a moment to rest, taking the opportunity to bandage myself and finally coat my damn daggers with the helpful poison.
My daggers glowed green in the moonlight once sufficiently covered in the liquids—one, a wound poison, would prevent enemies from healing themselves, while the other, a crippling agent, would prevent them from fleeing my attacks. Between the two, they would greatly expedite the killing I had to do that night and every night following. In my life, blood and death are waiting like a raven in the sky come any midnight, despite the light of Elune. Never will I escape that.
__________________
If I am not better, at least I am different. --Jean-Jacques Rousseau
|