by Cheek, Jason
With his eyes watering uncontrollably from the pain and the ground stone imbedded in the bare muscle of his face, Mike clawed his way to his knees. Anxiously looking around, he immediately realized why the rest of his body hurt so much. He’d been blown completely off his perch and must have hit the ground hard. Doing his best to ignore his broken ribs and bruised body, Mike scrambled for the bow that had fallen to the ground a few feet away from him. As he got his hand around the leather grip, he began to notice that the ground was shaking beneath him. Nervously looking up, his bleary eyes focused on the horrific sight of Zenma Mandula of the Putrid Dugs two pendulous skull pierced teats coming directly for him.
It took all of Mike’s will power to Shadow Step ten yards ahead. He only managed that by looking between the Elite Matriarch Shaman’s putrid gray colored thighs as the meaty jiggling things filled his vision. At the same time, out of the corner of his eye, Mike saw the skull head of the massive staff swinging down at him. Never before had he been so relieved by the comforting darkness of Shadow Step as he was when he disappeared a hair’s breadth before the grinning skull pulverized the spot that he’d been kneeling.
Popping out of stealth, Mike heard a guttural bellow of triumph from Zenma Mandula behind him as he fumbled at his belt for a Healing Potion, while doing his best to ignore the blood that seemed to be everywhere. His dirty fingers ran over the smooth flasks of his belt until he found the symbol for Healing, before blindly popping the lid and gulping the liquid down in one go. Tossing the flask away, he recast Shadow Shield for some minimum protection as he drew an arrow while struggling to his feet. From everywhere around him, Dark Elves were either screaming in pain or shouting out urgent warnings as he stood up straight.
A quick glance around the plateau showed Mike that his people were a mess. Five were outright dead while the rest were hovering around half health or less. The tribe of Elite Mountain Trolls were pummeling everything in their path with their massive spiked clubs as his surviving Shadow Assassins barely managed to keep ahead of the overwhelming assault.
In that moment, the only positive thing that was going on was that the agony of his face seemed to be lessening, when a bellow of outrage from behind him pulled his mind back into the battle at hand. Looking back over his shoulder, Mike’s face noticeable paled as the hideous female Troll’s head cranked around to glare at him balefully. Seeing that he was still alive and whole, her thick lips drew back from her tusks in fury.
“Fuck my life,” Mike exclaimed sharply, as Zenma Mandula of the Putrid Dugs launched herself into the air as if she were a Pro Wrestler executing a Corkscrew Diving Splat. It was an eye popping experience in the most horrible sense. There was that surreal moment as the massive female Troll hung midair over the top of him in all of her disgusting glory which gave him a chance to target the back of her open tusked maw that was wordlessly howling at him. With a snarl of rage, he released another Headshot into the back of her throat, before Shadow Stepping straight up.
Appearing ten yards above the Elite Matriarch Shaman, Mike twisted his body around in midair as the arrow he shot punched through the back of the female Troll’s head and flew past his surprised face. Cursing in annoyance at almost shooting himself, he sent another Headshot into the back of the Elite Matriarch Shaman’s head as she belly flopped onto the rocky ground with bone crushing force. It was a beautiful double shot that dropped her hit points below half for the first time in the fight. While all of that was well and good, Mike caught himself in the unenviable position of waiting for his Shadow Step’s timeout to reset as the ugly female Troll flipped around onto her back preparing to jump back to her clawed feet.
That’s when it happened. The Money Shot. Or, probably something that Mike wished had only been the Money Shot as the Elite Matriarch Shaman’s loincloth flipped back from her movements while she was spreading her legs to leap to her clawed horn-skinned feet. Though, to any other viewer, in that split-second before impact, the absolute look of horror on his face as his arms windmilled through the air would have been priceless.
It was one of those incredible feats of chance that you could never repeat in your life no matter how many times you tried. That one in a million hoop shot from three quarters of the court thrown after the buzzer goes off that wins the game after everyone thought the other team had won. Though, in Mike’s case, it was more like the video of the man bungee jumping over a swamp-like lake in Australia only to get his head snapped off by a humongous Crocodile. Yeah, it was a made-up Fosters commercial, but you get the drift. If anything, that example fit the current situation Mike found himself in the best.
Sadly, Mike had opened his mouth to scream just as he fell face first between Zenma Mandula of the Putrid Dugs’ spread legs. Even though he’d landed spread-eagle with his arms locked straight out, his face still plunged deep into the slimiest, stinkiest, sag-fest of labial hangers that he’d ever seen. It was beyond horrific. As soon as the momentum was spent, Mike was able to push himself up once more, but not before his face was completely covered in a thick yellowish mucusy-like substance.
“Iiittthhh’sss aaalll iiiimmm mmmaaa mmmooouttthhh!” Mike unintelligibly wailed in pure disgust and horror as he met the Elite Matriarch Shaman’s stunned face. The flavor was indescribably horrible like decayed fish mixed with melted rubber but worse. At the same time, in the back of his mind while all of this was going on, Mike could only pray that Star would never find out about this. Well any of his friends for that matter or they would never let him live this down.
The gleam in the female Troll’s red eyes only made the entire situation that much worse, if that was even remotely possible. Not that he was in the right place to even imagine what was going through her mind in that moment. Well, some sick fuck might have said he was in the right place, but … Mike choked back a body shaking dry heave, but it was no use. Even though he tried to breathe through his mouth, the entire ordeal was so horrendous that it was beyond any words to describe.
Urgently, Mike did his best to gulp in air through his mouth and out through his nose to stop what he knew was coming, but it was no use. Zenma Mandula of the Putrid Dugs face turned purple in anger as she realized what was about to happen. Before either one of them could react, Mike’s entire body clenched up as he projectile vomited onto her gaping-open rotten cooch. It felt like he’d puked out his soul as the unending stream finally ended in stretchy ropes of stomach bile. As he looked up and gave the female Troll a weak smile, she roared and surged forward to snatch him up in her large meaty hands.
“Gah!” Mike screamed in agony, as his body was crushed in the vise-like grip.
“Ow daar u inzul-t ma beutai!” Zenma Mandula snarled in Mike’s face, as spittle and leftover rotten meat pelted him.
“Beauty?” Mike openly scoffed in spite of himself, realizing he could make out what she was saying. Knowing he was going to die either way, he openly laughed in her hideous face as her eyes blazed in hate. “First, how about you say it and not spray it, honey, and then we’ll talk!”
“Ai vil taar ur aaarmz und laaags uot ov daaar zoketz bavor skuinun u ah-aiv!” Zenma Mandula of the Putrid Dugs snarled, as she unhinged her jaw and pulled him forward to bite his head off.
At least, that had worked, Mike thought in relief, as he waited for death. The last thing he wanted to do was experience a gruesome death like that in-game. Before the Elite Matriarch Shaman’s tusks could punch through his chest, Ghemrah and Vustrai suddenly appeared behind her back to plunge their blades deep into the female Troll’s spine. As she threw her head back and let out a bellow of agony, Iarviagod materialized next to the Elite Matriarch Shaman’s wrist that was holding Mike and slashed his blade clean through the bone and skin, amputating the hand cleanly.
Appearing next Mike’s side, Sub Leader Pevnuth managed to yank him free of the frozen fingers so he could Shadow Step away just as Zenma Mandula’s baleful eyes focused on her in unbridled outrage. Without a second thought, Sub Leader Pevnuth loosed a
Multi-Shot into the female Trolls face as the Head of Midnight disappeared into the shadows. Ignoring the iron shafts that pierced her bulbous nose, the Elite Matriarch Shaman bellowed as she swiped at the Dark Elf’s smug face with her skull topped staff.
In that second, Sub Leader Pevnuth knew she was dead. While Iarviagod managed to Shadow Step out of the way in time, she was still waiting for her own spell’s cooldown to pop. Even though she did her best to evade the terrible blow, the grinning skull still hit her full in the chest and blasted her off her feet as if she weighted nothing.
Chapter Thirty-One
(First Assault Group: Sub Leader Pevnuth and the Elite Mountain Troll fight)
Sub Leader Pevnuth bodily slammed to a stop against the rocky side of the mountain so hard that she swore every bone in her body must’ve been broken. The agony was almost too much for her to bear as tears streamed from her eyes. Wishing that she’d lost consciousness as she slid down the wall to collapse in a stunned heap, Sardren helplessly watched as the enraged Elite Matriarch Shaman furiously tromped towards her. Though her life was now forfeit, Sardren felt satisfaction in knowing that she’d been able to earn back her honor by saving the Head of Midnight from certain death. Without fear, she watched the massive clawed foot raise up to crush her skull, when a grayish figure suddenly appeared from out of nowhere.
“Hhhuuurrraaahhh!” The battle cry reverberated off the side of the mountain as the Elite Matriarch Shaman was physically knocked back several strides by the muscular Half-Orc that had bodily slammed into her.
For a second, Sardren couldn’t process what was happening as she incredulously watched the action unfold before her eyes. The Half-Orc expertly dropped to his clawed feet and spun around to lay into the Troll Matriarch with his two-handed battle axe. From the surprised look on the Elite Matriarch Shaman’s face, the power behind the strikes had come as a surprise. With her face clenching up from the effort, she went on the attack as the rest of the raid swarmed onto the plateau.
While Sardren’s eyes easily made out Sub Leaders Chuzedros and Zuvnabod’s Assault Groups Shadow Stepping around the plateau to engage all of the Elite Mountain Trolls, they were only a small portion of the total number of the forces in the attack. Even more confusing, the only ones that had come to her aid was this low-level halfling who couldn’t hope to face off against a level 60 monstrosity like this. Even as that thought was going through her mind, Sardren saw a flaring cloud of purple stars smash into the Elite Matriarch Shaman’s face as furry hands lifted her up and brought a Healing Potion to her lips.
“I’ve got her, Toxi!” A red-furred Panda female shouted over Sub Leader Pevnuth’s head, as the Beast Kin female forced the healing fluid down her throat. Tossing the empty flask away, the Panda female looped an arm around Sardren’s chest to half-carry/half-drag her away from the fight.
“Fall back like we planned, Steph!” The Half-Orc bellowed, as he began to take a serious pummeling from the female Troll’s two-handed staff. Looking at the dexterity that the Elite Matriarch Shaman was using to drive the Barbarian back, Sardren realized the female Troll must have grown back her hand in the short time it had taken for her to reach her. Why did either one of these halfling newfar stay if they knew it was a hopeless fight?
“I’ve got you,” another voice shouted out behind Sardren, as the Barbarian did his best to dissipate the force of the blows with his heavy shield. Almost immediately a flurry of ice bolts began hammering against the Elite Matriarch Shaman’s swinging breasts as another halfling stepped up to hook an arm under Sardren’s shoulder. To Sub Leader Pevnuth’s shocked disbelief, this halfling was a Dark Elf-Human mix. Why were these halflings trying to drag her to safety while their friend fought a hopeless fight? It went beyond all reason!
“We’ve got this, Toxi!” Another Warrior type of Dark Elf-Human halfling called out, as he rushed into the fight with a Beast Kin Warrior at his side. With three minutes left to her stun, all that Sub Leader Pevnuth could do was helplessly watched as the group of halflings and Beast Kin fought to save her with everything they had. In the distance, she saw the large Half-Orc step back from the pounding he was taking as the two new Warriors moved up to take his place. They were all selflessly working together to take out the overwhelming powerful enemy. In that handful of seconds, Sardren felt like her entire world view had been turned upside-down.
“Thanks for the help, Rassilon,” the Panda Kin female said to the Frost mage halfling, as they both continued to hammer the Elite Matriarch Shaman with everything they had. While their spells barely seemed to be doing any damage, with them working together, it was enough to keep the female Troll off-balance while more and more newfar charged in to help. Even so, at level 60, Zenma Mandula of the Putrid Dugs wasn’t going down anytime soon. As if to prove Sub Leader Pevnuth’s point, the Elite Matriarch Shaman let out a guttural bellow as she raised her skull-headed staff into the air.
“She’s releasing an AOE!” Sardren heard the familiar voice of the Head of Midnight call out in raid chat. “Shield or get behind cover!”
That was all the warning the rest of the raid got before Zenma Mandula of the Putrid Dugs slammed the butt of her skull topped staff into the ground and bellowed “Ole Tao!” in a move that Sardren was all too familiar with. In her heart, she knew there was no way she could survive such an attack in her current state. Refusing to die with her eyes closed, Sardren proudly waited for the stone javelins to pierce her bloody body and end her life, when the unthinkable happened. Without a thought for their own lives, both the halfling and Beast Kin mages dropped her to the ground and used their own bodies to shield her from the attack.
The selfless act brought tears to Sub Leader Pevnuth’s eyes as she felt the impact of the stone javelins piercing the newfars’ bodies. If both of them hadn’t acted together, she would’ve surely been killed. A quick glance at the raid interface and Sardren saw that only a small portion of the total raid members had been damaged. Most of the rock javelins had been blocked by the circle of defensive tanks around the Elite Matriarch Shaman. Her attention was pulled away from the rest of the battle as the mages painfully pushed themselves off her stunned body.
“Well that sucked,” Steph said, as she helped her friend up and removed the shaft that had pierced his shoulder.
“You’re telling me,” Rassilon agreed through gritted teeth, as the Panda Kin female slid the stone shaft free. He jerked his chin towards the ongoing battle. “Looks like they’re bloody ripping through those knobgobblers.”
A golden radiance appeared around both mages as they sighed in relief. A split-second later, the agony of Sub Leader Pevnuth’s broken bones began to dissipate as a golden glow momentarily surrounded her too. She immediately realized the spells Minor Mend Bones and a Regeneration had been cast on her broken body, as both mages turned around to salute an older looking halfling that was another Dark Elf-Human mix.
“Appreciate the heal, Mikhail,” Steph called out in thanks.
“Is no problem,” Mikhail replied back good-naturedly, as he kept one eye on the pair while keeping the other on the fighting. “We Rangers decide is best no waste arrows on Trolls, so we heal instead.”
As Sub Leader Pevnuth watched her Stun debuff start counting down the last ten seconds, she could hear the fighting ending across the plateau. Though she couldn’t see what was happening from where they’d dropped her on the ground, she could make out the sounds of blades hacking through meaty flesh. That was quickly followed by the distinct odor of burning flesh as the shrieking howls of the Elite Mountain Trolls almost completely stopped altogether.
“Gah,” Sardren said, sitting up as soon as her Stun faded away.
“It’s about time you stopped laying around,” Steph jokingly said, as Rassilon laughed along with the Panda girl.
“Welcome back to the realm of the living,” the Dark Elf-Human halfling said without any malice. “You looked like you took a beating from that beast.”
A part of Sardren
wanted to take offense at the innocuous remark, but after having been saved from certain death by the two of them, she just couldn’t seem to feel any anger towards the odd pair. As Sub Leader Pevnuth was contemplating that simple fact, without a second thought, the other woman held out a wine flask for her to take. Numbly taking the flask, she took a mouthful of the liquid to wash the blood from her mouth, before taking a deep pull of the wine.
The old Sub Leader Pevnuth would’ve never shared a drink with a Beast Kin or a halfling, especially not a Dark Elf mix breed. It was just the way it had always been in her society. Although now, after everything that had happened, she was at a loss as to how she should feel as Lord Ironwolf’s harsh criticism came back to her in a way that she’d never would’ve expected. Swallowing the shame that suddenly flared in her chest, she hesitantly spoke to the red-furred Panda girl.
“Why did you save me?” Sardren asked, feeling adrift as she studied the female’s furry-red face. Reading Beast Kin expressions was always considered difficult, but this time she found it somewhat easier due to her change in outlook. Though, a part of Sub Leader Pevnuth admitted that it would’ve been easier if the Panda girl had simply lashed out at her for being a Dark Elf. Instead, she simply gave the Dark Elf a sad smile.
“Why wouldn’t I save you?” Steph asked, in an earnest voice that held no malice towards her whatsoever. “You Shadow Assassins are the ones that are saving our asses out here and aren’t able to respawn. I figured it’s the least we could do as a thank you.”
“Trust me,” Sardren said, as her voice deepened from the strong emotions weighing down on her heart at being saved from certain death. “I can’t thank you enough for saving me from certain death by that hideous Troll." A fragile smile touched her lips as she held out her hand. “I am called Sub Leader Sardren Pevnuth and am in both of your debts.”
