B14

Bronwyn settled into a small stone building after spending the last hour clearing the ruins of threats and getting an idea of where the Urghat tracks led. The sun was starting to get low in the sky, and she decided it would be best to wait until the morning before following the tracks to wherever they might lead her. She hunkered down behind a fallen stone pillar in what was once probably someone’s home. Bronwyn withdrew a bedroll and a thick, dark blue blanket from her pouch. She thought about making a small fire but decided there might be other Urghat in the area and didn’t want them to see the light or smoke. Unable to cook, she just ate some dried meats and berries that she had purchased from the Contribution Store. Hops looked at her expectantly when she pulled out the berries, and she placed a few on the ground for him, most of which he gobbled up quickly, leaving just a couple to store in his shell for later.

After her cold dinner, she lay on her back, staring up at the stars of this strange new world through a hole in the long-ruined rooftop. Hops nudged the side of her neck and then curled up in his shell right above her shoulder, his soft, purring snore starting up almost immediately. Despite being worried about the coming days and the possible implications of what Grimjowl had said, Bronwyn quickly found her eyes getting heavy as a deep sleep took hold of her.

Bronwyn's eyes shot open as she heard the howling and braying barks of multiple hounds. The sky was painted red from the morning sun, and she could just make out her surroundings in the ruined building. She silently got to her feet and started packing up her camp when she heard a gruff voice out in the ruins. “Hah! I knew there’d be something left behind. Give the boyii that vest; they’ll find the scent in no time.”

“Right, right, smart as eva’, Underclaw Bloodfang,” another wheedling voice responded.

“Shit!” Bronwyn whispered. She hadn’t even thought of taking her old armor with her and had just left it lying next to the bodies. Trying to move without a sound, Bronwyn slipped all of her belongings into the pouch. She scooped up the still sleeping Hops and gently deposited him into her backpack. She finished strapping on her gauntlets as she edged towards the empty doorframe.

The ruined house she had taken refuge in for the evening was across a small square from where she had left the bodies. Looking out the door frame, Bronwyn saw that there was a large crumbling fountain, long dry, between her and the Urghat she had heard talking. The one she assumed to be Lord Bloodfang was massive, even by Urghat standards, probably around eight feet tall. He was wearing heavy metal armor and had no visible weapons. The smaller Urghat wore leather armor and held two leashed, brightly colored wolves. They were the same type she had fought the night the colony had been attacked. As she watched, he picked up her old leather vest and held it out for the hounds to sniff.

Bronwyn ducked down into a crouch and hurriedly stepped around the side of the building; she knew the hounds would catch her scent in no time. As soon as she rounded the corner and was out of sight, she took off into a dead sprint, trying to make as much distance as possible. It was only moments before she heard the excited barking of dogs that had found their quarry. She glanced over her shoulder and could see their brightly colored backs racing through the tall grass towards her, their handler just seconds behind.

She spotted a lone pillar of stone about fifty yards away to her left. Pushing herself to the limit, she sprinted toward it, hoping to reach it before the hounds caught her. She slid to a stop at the stone monolith and slipped behind it. One of the dogs raced past her left side, and as it did, she slammed her fist down onto it, the impact shattering its spine. It slid to stop a few yards away from her, unmoving. The other hound rounded the right side of the pillar and lunged towards her just as she finished her first attack. The large canine’s teeth latched onto her gauntlet as she brought it up in front of her face. The beast didn’t let go and tried to pull Bronwyn down to the ground. It was no match for her strength, though, and she lifted it into the air and slammed its body against the stone pillar; the sound of crunching bone filled the air as its ribcage impacted. The hound released its grip on her and growled, trying to stand, wobbling for a second before it fell to the ground.

The hound master, seconds behind his beasts, roared in fury at the sight before him and charged Bronwyn with two wickedly sharp knives. He was fast, faster than Bronwyn, nearly as fast as the creature in the cave; she felt like molasses as he assailed her with a flurry of stabs and slashes. While trying to block his cuts, she activated her Stone Skin, saving her from several deep cuts that got past her guard. One powerful stab got past and punctured even her Stone Skin, though; she could feel it sink an inch into her left side. She was sure that, without her magic, he would’ve buried that knife to the hilt.

Over the next few moments, Bronwyn accumulated a dozen small slashes and puncture wounds on her upper arms, legs, and torso. She was growing tired and more frustrated by the second; every time she let up her defense to swing out at the Urghat, he would dodge out of the way and land another strike. She was back peddling, on the defensive, doing everything she could to keep the daggers at bay when an idea struck her.

She took a few quick steps backward, gaining some space from the Urghat, and focused her Energy into the palms of her hands. She hadn’t done much spell casting, especially to affect other people, but she had seen Olivia practicing on multiple occasions. And she still remembered her lessons from the orientation. She concentrated on her Stone Warding spell, but instead of willing it to activate on her skin, she pushed Energy out of the node on her palm toward the Urghat. She willed her Stone Warding to form on the Urghat’s legs, conjuring it over and over. Streams of light grey sand shot out of her hands and started to solidify on his legs. The effect wasn’t immediate, and he closed to distance on her, giving her another handful of deeper cuts now that her stone skin was gone. She clenched her teeth and focused on the spell and on blocking his blades with her gauntletted forearms.

After a few seconds, the stone was thickly coating the Urghat’s legs and feet. His strikes and twisting dodges were still fast, but his footwork couldn’t keep up. Bronwyn could see that his slower legs were throwing off his entire combat style, and he started to slow and stumble, to the point where he was no longer landing any strikes on her as she danced around his swings. He roared with frustration and tried to charge her again, and, as he did, Bronwyn stopped channeling the stone and swatted his hands down, causing his face to jut forward from the motion. She was bleeding profusely now and nearly exhausted; she knew she had used up most of her Energy. Reaching deep, she pulled what little reserves she had left and swung an uppercut at his exposed chin. The Energy infused strike connected with a crunch as his head snapped back and his eyes rolled to reveal white, dead orbs. He fell backward, and Bronwyn sank to a knee. The Energy that flowed into her started to mend her most dangerous wounds, but it wasn’t enough; she could still feel many of them open and bleeding.

***Congratulations! You’ve learned Fetters of Stone - Basic***

It seemed that experimenting with her skill had paid off. Bronwyn turned and looked toward the ruins she had run from and saw the huge Urghat called Bloodfang slowly walking through the plains toward her, maybe a hundred yards away. She inspected her wounds and cursed silently to herself; there was no way she could win a fight in her current state. She had to get away and make it back to the Colony to warn them. She turned and began to run toward the colony, letting out a frustrated scream.

The wounds in her legs burned as she sprinted through the fields. There was a tree-line a mile to the southeast, and she bee-lined toward it, never looking back. When Bronwyn reached the stand of trees that separated the greater grasslands from the colony, she finally turned and found an empty field behind her. She scanned the horizon, searching for any movement, but it seemed that the big Urghat hadn’t chased after her. She breathed a sigh of relief.

***Quest assigned, Defeat Underclaw Bloodfang and retrieve Ur-clan missives. Time limit: 24 hours. Rewards: Energy-rich materials. Do you accept this quest? Yes/No***

“Fuck.” She stared into the distance as she let out a long breath and pressed her finger against the “Yes” button on the pale grey window. “Guess I won’t be going home after all,” she groaned, pulling the last remaining bit of healing cream from her pouch.

By the time Bronwyn finished dabbing the cream on a dozen different wounds, she’d used every last molecule of it. She had been hesitant to use the last bit of it in case she received some kind of mortal injury, but she knew she’d need to be in perfect condition for this fight. She had never been closer than fifty yards from Bloodfang, but she could see his presence, his aura, surrounding him even from that distance. It was nothing like the demon they fought in the cave, but he projected a raw power. Fighting him wouldn’t be easy, and she would need to get him alone somehow, but she wasn’t going to back down. Not again.

She rested for an hour, eating some more of her travel rations and allowing her Energy to refill slowly. During her rest, Hops finally woke from his slumber; she had no idea how he slept through the fighting and running. He scrambled out of the pack pulling a few berries of his own out from his shell and perched atop her shoulder to share breakfast. “This fight I’m heading into is gonna be a little rough; I’m pretty sure I can take him, though. You sure you wanna stick around? They seem pretty fond of eating, well, whatever you are. Might be dangerous.” In response, Hops finished off his last berry, wiping his hands and face on Bronwyn's hair, eliciting a slight sigh and chuckle from her. He wrapped himself in her long red curls and chirped happily, nuzzling into her neck. “Alrighty cutie, I’m glad to hear it.” She finished her jerky and stood up, stretching her freshly healed muscles before taking off in a light jog, back towards the stone obelisk.

The sight that greeted her upon her arrival was confusing. She was about fifty yards out when she realized Bloodfang had not left the area yet. He was sitting on a small stool in the shade of the obelisk where she’d fought the hounds and their master. He saw her jog into view and beckoned her closer, making no move to stand. Bronwyn carefully approached and saw that he was eating some kind of charred meat, and a small fire was smoldering next to him. He chewed his latest bite and looked up towards her. “Hope you don’t mind, but I’ll be finishing this meat before we get this over with. I’d offer you a piece, but this is the last of it.” He gestured with the remainder of what looked like a turkey drumstick. Seeing Bronwyn’s blank stare of confusion, he continued, pointing one of his clawed fingers towards the sky, “Seems as though they want one of us to die today, and well, I planned on killing you anyway.” He gave her a toothy smile and tore off another bite of meat.

“You got a quest to defeat me too?” Bronwyn was struggling with the scene - with the surreal sight of him sitting on a stool and waiting for her, with the way he spoke to her in a cultured, precise diction. She hadn’t really intended on talking to him at all.

“Defeat you?” Bloodfang let out a harsh laugh. “I’m supposed to take your head and capture that little fairy of yours, Blodwyn. Strong name, much better than the other Humans we’ve heard of. Let’s see if you can live up to it; I’d like to sound proud tonight when I boast around the fire.” He tore off the last chunk of meat and tossed the bone behind him. He stood up to his full, towering height; he was clad in metal armor from neck to shins, “Well then, shall we?” He pulled a dagger from his belt and sank the blade into his own hand. He ripped it away and chanted some strange words as the blood arced into the air. The droplets shimmered brightly and came together, forming a shining, bright red cutlass that thrummed with power. He stared Bronwyn down, a smile carving itself across his face.