Mind's Journey 2: Of Monsters and Men (A Gamelit Fantasy Adventure - Book 2)

by William H. Dewayne

  “Yes, and now we have a new plan. It was a little spur of the moment, even for my tastes, but that’s how it is.” He does not explain further. Did he think that was a good enough explanation? It would seem that our self-appointed leader needed to work on his communication skills.

  “Why?”

  He turns back to the monster at hand. “Don’t worry,” he says. “Just leave it to David.”

  I almost say more, but we are out of time. The monster’s injuries have vanished, regenerating part of the health bar. As soon as the bleeding wound scabs over, the eyes narrow, and the head rears back for another strike. The question is which one of us would it go after next. Who am I kidding? That’s a dumb question, I sigh to myself.

  The Serpopard’s head wastes no time lashing toward me, forcing me to spring back, but that is not enough to keep me from harm’s way. As soon as my feet touch the ground, I have to jump again to avoid the snapping mouth. “But since you’re here now, I could use the help,” I admit, as I dive behind a nearby tree. If this creature was not so mobile, the trees would be the perfect shelter, but all it provides is a quick breath before I flee as the head rounds the trunk.

  “I got ya, buddy,” G. yells, jumping in. As soon as the creature sees the spearpoint, it halts its darting assault. He spins his spear around as a defensive measure, turning his back toward the tree, offering me a place to rest. While catching my breath, I struggle to think of something while wondering how much longer I could keep this up. “You know, this is not the first time I’ve dealt with a critter like this,” G. blurts.

  “What?” I exclaim. Why didn’t he mention this before?

  “Creatures like this have a distinct advantage in fast attacks, but what they give up is maneuverability. Despite the reach it has, when it strikes, it has trouble moving from side to side. That is the main advantage we have,” he bites the top of his lip in concentration. “Still, the rest of its body makes up for where its head lacks.”

  “I already knew that,” I reply. As G. twirls his spear around, the Serpopard looks for a way around this defense. I knew he would find a way, but I did not expect it to be so quick. The snake eyes glint as the neck reaches above us and bites into the tree. At first, I expect it to bite clean through the truck. To my surprise, the jaw locks around the tree, and pulls. In the blink of an eye, the entire tree rips out of the earth by the roots.

  “Move,” G. yells. We sprint away as the monster makes the tree collapse where we stood a moment before. “They never cease to amaze you,” my companion remarks. “Let’s see how he likes this.” He turns around and hurls his spear. G. used Piercing Lance, the Voice announces. The spear leaves G.’s hand like an arrow from a bow. Our opponent did not see it coming. As the Serpopard turns away from the fallen tree, it greets the projectile with the top of its left leg. A loud, sickening thud resounds. It was effective, the Voice adds as the green bar drops more than it did earlier. Still, that is not enough. However, one thing gives me a glimmer of hope. A few words appear around the creature. Speed: -5.

  “Awesome,” I yell.

  “Of course it was,” G. agrees, clapping his hands with satisfaction. “C’mon, we can’t let up.” He rushes forward, and I would have followed, but the fresh wound made the monster difficult to approach.

  The Serpopard writhes about at its newfound pain. The clawed paws stomp around. As its left leg moves with the spear protruding, a pained hiss slips from its thin lips. The head reaches down to its leg. In one clean motion, it rips the weapon from its body and hurls it away. The spearhead drives deep into a tree, far above its head. The Serpopard’s blood drips from the tree.

  “Hey,” G. yells, glaring at the monster, pointing at his weapon. “That was uncalled for.” His towering foe whips its head around and lashes forward. Though it is weaker, so is G. without his spear. Despite its drop in speed, the Serpopard clears the distance between itself and G. My companion jumps back, but he is too close and unarmed. What did he hope to accomplish like that? “Woah,” the large man cries as the long neck loops around him. In a flash, it ensnares him in a tight embrace. G. pushes against the oppressive coils, but it is too late. G. was caught, the Voice declares, to my chagrin.

  “I can see that for myself,” I groan. Back to square one.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The Calvary Arrives

  2

  As the Serpopard’s coil crushes G., I realize once again that I need some kind of strategy. If I had a mind like David, who knows what I could do? Perhaps I could think of some elaborate way to bring this beast down. Glancing around, I look for anything that could give me an edge in this conflict, but as far as I could see, I have nothing. It is now, for the first time since this ordeal began, that luck seems to be on my side. I hear a noise above my head and the creature’s neck jerks back in sudden pain. Did G. use some skill I’ve not seen before?

  Something glints against the snake’s scales. A sharp dart, no bigger than a dagger, lays buried in the monster’s neck. Green fresh blood drips from the wound. The creature rears back, hissing in pain. G.’s legs and arms flail around to escape, but the coil holds tight, not allowing him to get away. To no better effect, the dart rips out of its neck, pulled by a rope. Blood pours from the open wound. It flies over my head and lands in the palm of a light-skinned woman appearing at the edge of this battle. Her brown-ringed armor covers her strange, mismatched red and green clothes that seem too tight for her body. Her blue hair falls around her face in a disregarded mess.

  “About time you got here, Maris,” G.’s muffled voice yells, his eyes glaring through an open spot in the coil. She says nothing; her pale face gazes on the battle in open disinterest. She takes a step forward, but freezes, her hand reaching up to her mouth. Her other hand holds herself up against a tree as she throws her breakfast up in a sick beige bile. Great. Her motion sickness again, I groan. It would seem that luck is not on my side. She won’t be any use for the rest of this battle. Could this get any better?

  As if in answer, a hiss echoes through the forest. They fight in pairs, Aurora’s voice rings out in my head, and I feel an icy chill in my blood. That is the Serpopard’s secret weapon against their foes. I don’t know what is more terrifying. Was it the cruel hiss that this creature produced or that it doesn’t care if we can hear it? A pale-faced young man wearing round spectacles bursts into the clearing. His clothing is almost identical to G.’s, his closest companion. He stands about half a foot shorter than me, but size isn’t a measure of his abilities. This is our great strategist, David, and he isn’t in control of this situation.

  Panic flashes through his eyes. “Hurry up, Harva,” he yells behind him. No one replies; this fact sends a chill through me. Gripping my staff, I rush forward, knowing that I can’t live with myself if the worst should happen. In his hand, David holds his slingshot. To most, it’s a weak weapon, but it is surprising that a simple tool can pack such a punch. I hope I never end up on the receiving end of it. Accenting my point, he spins around, aiming it into the forest. David used Ricochet Bolt, the Voice says. The thick pellet flies from the slingshot, bounces against the trees, and vanishes out of sight.

  Another hiss echoes, but the rasp is far more violent. Following this noise, a second fearful cry rips out, one far more human. At last, Harva, a tan-skinned child with wild brown hair, runs into view. Small, dark bronze armor covers her tattered clothes, which could use a good wash, as could the rest of us. Her face is radiating with fear, which is common for her. I find it hard to believe that someone so young can face these dangerous beasts. There’s no way I could have done the same at such a young age.

  She runs with her shield, a snake encircling its face, strapped to her arm. Every time I see that, I can’t help but stand in awe of the little girl. Who cares if she looks scared? How she can lift it is impressive. We meet each other halfway, while David joins Maris by the tree. The sick woman places an arm over his shoulders, allowing him to help her limp along. I keep my eyes on the Serpopard, w
hich is preoccupied with its wounds and keeping G. captive. “Are you okay?” I ask the panting Harva.

  “Yes,” she replies between gasps, but I know that’s a lie. I can see the truth in her eyes, but I let it slide, knowing that addressing it will only make things worse.

  “Where’s Aurora and Queen?” I ask, deciding to change the subject.

  My weak attempt almost works. “They are right behind us,” she starts with a hopeful grin. It falls. The color drains from her face. Sudden terror takes over. She spins on her heel and yells at David, “We have to go back for them.”

  “No time,” David replies, glancing back. He’s right. The second after those words leave his mouth, the second Serpopard appears, maw gaping and fangs baring. The red tint of the enemy surrounds it. In terms of appearance, there is no difference between the two, except for the different wounds inflicted on their golden scales and spotted bodies. Both have the same enraged hunger in their eyes. Looking at the H.P. of the second creature, a relieved sigh passes through my lips. They inflicted some damage on it, but it doesn’t matter. Just like with the Orthrus, it will heal soon. The only good thing about it is that the Serpopards do not heal as fast as that ravenous dog. If we move quickly, we can end this.

  “Please tell me you have a plan,” I yell at our strategist as the little girl draws closer to me. She raises her shield, preparing for whatever is about to happen next. Her eyes stare at David, with child-like longing. Poor girl. If he told her to jump out of a high tree, she’d do it without another thought, hoping for his approval.

  “Of course,” he replies. I wait for him to explain, but he doesn’t say a word. David can be a hard man to read, since he likes to keep most of his thoughts to himself. I won’t know what he is planning until he’s ready to tell me. There was a time when he had an organized plan to deal with these monsters, but we learned fast that monsters ruined all prepared plans. All a strategist can do is make it up as he goes, and that is a bit unsettling, even if David only continues proving his skill. A gulp rocks my throat, hoping that whatever it is will work. “I have to wait until all the pieces are in play.” My eyebrows raise, wondering what he meant by that.

  The two monsters look at one another. In tandem, they give a low hiss. “Stop them,” a woman yells. Aurora used Thorned Barricade, the Voice says. The branches overhead creak as they bend down, growing until they reach the ground. Each limb intertwines with another, creating a web of branches. At last, a thick barrier divides the battlefield in two. David and Maris stand on one side while Harva and I are on the other. Each group has a different Serpopard to deal with. Our monster holds G. in a tight coil.

  Joining the fray, a beautiful blonde woman limps out from behind a tree, leaving herself on David’s side of the barricade. She rests against a long scythe, wiping the sweat off her brow. Even in this disgruntled state, I can’t help but feel a little flustered looking at her. Her road-worn blue dress clings to her body’s sweat. I glance away quickly, so she doesn’t notice I’m staring. Why doesn’t she wear any armor? I wonder to keep my mind on something else. “I’m sorry,” she says, her head hanging in shame. “But I don’t think I’ll be much help for the rest of this.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” G. calls from the coil, his dark hands waving against the golden scales. “You can sit this one out. Someone just get me out of here. Maris?” His potential savior lets go of David’s shoulder and holds both hands over her mouth in a tight clasp. A muffled gag escapes her grip. “David?” His bespectacled friend says nothing, choosing to survey the battlefield. “That’s fine,” he says, his voice quaking a bit as he tries to convince himself. “Just get me when you can. I’ll wait.”

  The two Serpopard’s look at one another through the barrier, each determining the best way to deal with this new situation. Their large eyes look at us, their foes, realizing that we outnumbered them. Still, in strength, there was no doubt who had control. They hiss between themselves. Both sides avoid fighting for the moment as we decide the best course of action. “David,” I call. “I don’t think we can wait much longer.”

  “When did G. lose his spear?” he asks, uninterested in my question. I look at the spear a few trees away, then back at him. There’s a glint in his eye. That was all he needed. “Hold on G.,” he yells, loading another pellet. “Felix. Get that spear. I’ll leave it up to you how you make that happen. Harva, help Felix. Maris and Aurora, provide backup support for me. G., once you’re free from that monster, hit that beast with your strongest attack. Go.”

  He did not need to elaborate any further. I trust him. From where I am standing, I can scramble up the tree and use it on our foe. I have little practice with the weapon. For all I know, it might be too heavy for me to carry; that’s assuming that I can reach it at all, but all I have to do is help G. get free. Once that is done, I can turn everything over to him.

  I glance at Harva. “Can we do it?”

  There was a time when I wouldn’t want her anywhere near a monster, but her skills improve more with each day. As long as I watch out for her, she’ll be fine. She gives an awkward grin. “I hope so.” We nod and race toward the spear’s tree.

  “Take your time,” G. hollers. “A Hilltop Bear hugged me once. This is nothing compared to that.” As he speaks, his words sound more muted. I need to make quick work of this. The Serpopard is near the tree, but not close enough that it can block my way.

  As we approach, it redirects its attention to us. The beast wastes no time racing in our direction. In the neck’s coil, G. legs bop in random directions. “Harva,” I yell. The little girl raises her shield, taking it off her left arm and grabbing it with both hands. Harva used Boomerang, the Voice announces. She stops running and hurls the defensive disk as hard as she can. The projectile sails through the air, aiming straight at the snake’s head.

  Unsurprising, it weaves its neck to the side, avoiding the attack. The shield continues flying, passing its target. A hiss that mimics laughter fills our ears. Harva smirks as she raises her left arm. At her unspoken command, the disk redirects its aim, flying back toward her hand and the monster. I run faster, knowing that I will only have a moment to make this work.

  The shield strikes the unsuspecting beast on the back of the head, then continues flying to its master’s hand. This attack drains only a little of the beast’s health, but that is not the point. The Serpopard is Confused. As I race by, the snake’s head moves with no focus as if it does not know what to do. When the shield hits her arm, Harva slides back but does not fall, as she has before. I can’t remember how many times she has practiced this move, but her hard work is paying off.

  While she hangs back, I put some distance between myself and my foe, thanks to Harva. Reaching the tree, I spring up, catching the first branch, and pull myself up. In one hand, I grip my staff tightly. Despite my weary state, I scale about a fourth of the way toward the spear. It rests in place, waiting. I’m not the best one to retrieve it, but with its owner tied up, we’re out of other options.

  Keeping my eyes on the beast, I watch it shake its head about, trying to alleviate its ailment. The Serpopard’s Confusion wore off, the Voice announces as the Serpopard’s eyes narrow at Harva. My stomach drops as I realize what is about to happen. We have to get it away from her. Glad I’m not the only one how noticed. “Throw it again,” David calls to Harva from across the barrier. “Don’t bring it back. Trust me.” The little girl didn’t need many reasons to trust David, if any. Without question, she hurls her shield. It sails through the air, flying past my tree. For a moment, the Serpopard chases after the shield to rip apart the lump of metal that brought it harm, but the shield moves too quickly for it to catch. It is then that the monster turns and focuses its attention on me, which is a far easier target than the flying metal disk.

  I climb as fast as I can, knowing that I have mere moments before I’m staring down its maw again. It rushes toward me, its legs clearing the distance faster than I hoped but not as fast as I thought. I co
ntinue scrambling up the tree as quickly as I can. The Serpopard’s head stretches out to meet me. Having G. in its grasp seems to limit its movement and speed. Just what I need. I plant my feet on the branches underneath and grab another with my free hand. Turning my body around, I meet the monster as it rises to meet me. My staff smacks the snake’s head between its round eyes. It recoils back. As soon as it does, I see G.’s legs thrash around faster and harder than before. Part of his torso slides out of the coil. For an instant, I see a different expression in the Serpopard’s eyes. Panic. The long neck tightens up, and the snake’s head pauses its pursuit, paying no attention to me. I continue climbing up the tree again. Though I’m tired, I know that I can reach the top; at least I hope that is the case as I see how much further I need to go.

  The Serpopard recovers, securing its prey, and keeps stretching up the tree. This time it remains at a safer distance. “Felix,” G. yells through the muffling flesh. “Anytime would be great.” He shouldn’t have to keep waiting for much longer. For the first time in this battle, I have a glimpse of hope. This creature can lose. If it couldn’t, it would not panic at G. almost escaping its grasp.

  Branch by branch, I get closer to reaching my goal. Keeping an eye over my shoulder, I watch the snake’s head try to keep reaching for me. As soon as it draws too close, I try swinging at it, but this monster learned its lesson the first time. The moment I turn, it draws back far enough that my staff cannot reach it. I pay this no mind and continue climbing.

  At last, I reach the spear, and that is when the snake’s head makes its true move. I’d be lying if I did not half expect it, but I hoped that it wouldn’t. Without hesitation, I hurl my staff at it. You threw away your Staff, the annoying Voice says. If that voice were a person, I think I would hit it over the head with the nearest blunt object. A sad song plays. Stats Decrease: Courage -4, Brawn -3, Stamina -2, Perception -3.