Chapter 11 - First Contact IV
Though the hourglass-shaped bug snake reared its head as soon as Claire entered the corridor, it didn’t quite grasp her intentions right off the bat. It gawked at her for a good few seconds, before finally lashing out with its tail. The halfbreed was able to avoid the poorly aimed haphazard attack, but soon found herself staring a minor issue in the face nonetheless. Following through on her plan was impossible. The living hourglass’ scales ran from front to back and facing it head on denied her the angle required to weave her spear through its armour. There were only two other potential vulnerabilities to attack, its face and its legs. And Claire, for reasons that did not need to be explained, chose the former.
Given her situation, it seemed like the obvious solution. There was always the argument that the scaleless legs were easier to damage, but the head was a veritable treasure trove of weaknesses. The half-insect had an open maw, a pair of eyes, and two soft-looking antennae. Even its nostrils could have been the subject of an attack if she was feeling adventurous enough; its nose’s interior was sure to be soft and unprotected.
Claire’s first target was an eye. She thrust her spear, knowing that the glowing green orb was well within reach, only to find her foe undamaged. Her aim was not at fault. The weapon had struck true. Two of its three blades had landed on target, but they left only the smallest of scratches as they slid off the unguarded organ as they would have a smooth rock.
The monster struck at her while she was focused on her failure. Its tail came from a blind spot, clobbering her in the side and sending her crashing to the ground. Her ribs creaked under the weight of the blow, but they didn’t give, no doubt in part thanks to her increased vitality.
A second swing came immediately. Gritting her teeth, she rolled out of the way, scrambled to her feet, and got to a safe distance. The creature screeched at her as she took a moment to catch her breath, her gaze focused on the light green aperture her spear had struck.
It isn’t an eye.
No longer in motion, the rogue realized that she had been fooled. The supposed organ that she had struck was a motionless prop.
It almost looks like one.
The false optical receptor featured a narrow blackened slit surrounded by dark red markings reminiscent of bloodshot veins. Both it and its pair even seemed to shimmer beneath the glow of the thousand irradiated rocks that filled the corridor. A closer inspection, however, revealed that they were not eyes. They were scales, oddly vibrant scales whose sole purpose was to throw off their beholders.
I’m such an idiot.
The folly of falling for its mimicry could have been easily avoided had she spent any more time examining it. Her lack of patience and caution had cost her dearly. She was missing a whole fifth of her health. And she’d gotten off lucky. A blow like the one she suffered could have easily debilitated or killed her had it hit her where she was more vulnerable.
Dismissing the thought with a shudder, the rogue raised her spear and prepared for the next exchange of blows, and just in time. Having recognized that she had no intention of retreating, the living hourglass reared its head before smashing it down at her full force. It used its tail as an anchor and its own skull as a weapon, swinging it with such speed and vigour that Claire almost expected to see its narrow midsection snap. The attack was backed by enough momentum to render it a deadly strike. But also a predictable one. She was able to dodge it with a quick sidestep. Thinking herself safe, she moved to swing her spear, but stopped herself short. She dove to the ground instead, narrowly avoiding a sweep of the serpent’s tail. The insect followed with another blow with its head, and then another with its rear, and so on, and so forth. It was a consistent pattern of vertical and horizontal swings, one after another. A method of attack equal parts numbingly simple and painfully effective.
The halfbreed found herself struggling to keep up. Avoiding the incoming blows took everything she had. While there were certainly a few opportunities to counter, none proved themselves particularly lucrative; she was unable to strike at anything but scale. Just when she felt like she was going to be stuck in a series of deadly perpetual coin flips, she recalled a lesson, a solution that allowed her to escape the insufferable sequence of crippling blows.
She raised her spear when it struck with its tail, blocking instead of dodging. But rather than holding her ground and competing with raw force, she leapt in the same direction as its strike, both to dampen the blow, and to leverage its momentum. The combined forces propelled her outside the monster’s effective range and allowed her a moment to regain her composure.
Contrary to her expectations, her spear was still intact. It was a fortuitous miscalculation, but not one that mattered, at least not right then. She cast the weapon aside and drew her club in its place, hoisting the heavy bone over her shoulder as she slid one leg forward and took a deep breath.
When it lunged at her again, she was ready. She stepped just outside the range of a heavy vertical headbutt and drove the bone straight into the creature’s skull as it entered her reach. The moment of contact was the moment she realized that her evasive maneuvers were pointless. It wouldn’t have touched her, even if she had held her position. The cleaving strike she landed on its head had displaced it, knocking it a whole meter to the right. Much to her own astonishment, the attack had managed to do much more than simply deter the beast or twist a few of its scales out of place. There was damage, significant, obvious, visible damage. The scales to bear the brunt of the blow were as crumbled and broken as the legs that had occupied the right side of its face. A deep blue liquid—blood—oozed from its wounds, staining the beast and her mace alike.
I was NOT expecting that.
Still staring with her eyes wide, it took the greenhorn a moment to chain her next strike; the heavier overhead blow she prepared came too late. Though the multi-legged freak no longer moved with its prior swiftness, it still managed to evade, leaving her mace to smash itself into the ground, leaving in its wake a small but undeniable crack in the cave’s rocky floor.
The snake bug tried bashing her with its head once more, but again, it was met with resistance in the form of a mace. This time, Claire was quick enough to deliver the crushing blow she had previously missed, smashing the front of its snout and breaking its jaw.
Maybe I should’ve chosen Barbarian after all… Wait, what the heck am I thinking!? Get ahold of yourself, me! You’re a proud Lady, not some uncouth Barbarian!
She tried to finish it, but the many legged serpent skittered off before she could. It retreated all the way to the T-shaped intersection at the opposite end of the corridor before rearing up, looking at her, and screeching in anger. The sound revealed its true nature; it was one that no real snake could have ever made.
Dagger Mastery was the only reason she was aware that it was looking at her. One of the skill’s secondary effects, its ability to locate weaknesses, had finally kicked in. It revealed that the creature’s eyes were hidden beneath its head. The tiny black circles, numbering eight in total, were hidden amongst its scales. She was fairly certain that it was using all eight to look at her. And she was right. It was looking at her. But what she failed to realize was that it wasn’t just looking at her.
It was aiming.
A jet of clear liquid shot from the insect’s mouth, visible only because of the way it distorted the light. She reacted, but not quickly enough to dodge it entirely. Her left arm was splashed with the runny fluid and drenched from the shoulder down.
Wailing like a banshee, she dropped her weapon, fell to her knees, and nearly blacked out. The pain started at her arm, but it didn’t end there. It rapidly coursed throughout the rest of her body, assailing it with burning despair, a constant fiery agony. It almost felt like she had been cast into a forge.
The liquid that the hundred legged snake had spat at her was not a problem in and of itself. It was just water. Plain, old, drinkable water. It hadn’t been fired at an incredible speed, nor had been concentrated to amplify its pressure. In fact, the impact itself was nothing of note, containing only the force of a gentle stream, but it pained her nonetheless. Because of its temperature.
The water had been heated above its boiling point, forcefully kept in liquid form through magical means. Enchanted, the fluid was so scorching hot that even a brief moment of contact turned her fair skin a deep shade of red. She was literally steaming, half-cooked, half-alive. The quarter of her health that remained would have been promptly removed had her opponent not suffered from its own attack. The burning liquid it synthesized hurt it as much as it hurt her. Its throat and mouth were no longer functional. It too was suffering. But that was simply the cost that came with using a borrowed ability.
Though they had taken similar amounts of damage, the insect was the first to recover. It was aware of the nature of its attack, and unlike her, it had managed to brace itself for the unreasonable pain. It crawled back over to her and smashed its tail into the ground, a blow heavier than any of its others. She was barely able to roll out of the way, spurred on only by the need to survive.
The pain never receded. Her arm screamed at her and refused to follow any of her commands. Steam rose from the affected flesh, her blood literally boiling. But still, she stood. She forced herself to her feet before the next strike came. Claire didn’t care that her health was mostly drained. Thirty was still more than what she had started with when she first arrived. She hadn’t escaped from the manor with her life so that it could be taken by something that couldn’t decide if it wanted to be a reptile or an isopod.
Side stepping another swing, she drew an antler from her bandolier and swung at the latest chink in the freakish bug’s armour. The bone pierced right through the soft-boiled scales and embedded itself into its thorax while the accompanying phantom strike created by her Double Stab skill chipped away at the centipede’s health.
Not wanting to waste any time pulling it out, she left the weapon as is and dove to the ground to dodge a horizontal sweep. The next time she rose from the floor, it was with a dagger in hand. This too was shoved into a weak spot, a small but visible eye socket.
Though her body felt sluggish from all the damage, she was able to spin around the pseudo-ophidian’s trunk and reach the back of its head with her other antler. In one swift motion, she used the sharpened bone to remove both its antennae. The result? Complete and utter chaos.
The loss of both its thermal sight and its sense of smell caused the legged serpent to panic. It started screeching nonstop and attacking haphazardly. It was so desperate to get her off of it that it bashed its tail against the back of its own head. Even though she was no longer there. Not anymore. Claire had used the confusion to slip away from her prey and retrieve her club, the weapon that had proved itself most damaging. She dragged the oversized femur across the floor as she moved. Not by choice. She wasn’t able to lift it, not with just one hand, and not while half her body felt like it had been lit ablaze. The sound it made as it scraped its way across the mossy floor was barely audible, but the insect noticed it nonetheless.
It raised its head and pointed its eyes in her direction, and then, in what seemed to be a fit of rage, it launched itself at her. It was still accurate even without two of its senses, but the attack’s wind up was significantly longer than it had been earlier in the fight. The amount of forewarning before each blow allowed her to dodge with ease.
Dancing her way around two heavy strikes, Claire spun her body around, making use of the momentum to compensate for the loss of her second arm. The twirling strike wasn’t anywhere nearly as powerful or accurate as a two-handed overhand smash, but it was still devastating enough to fulfill its purpose—pulverizing the creature’s thorax. Once the scales were broken, she dropped the mace in favour of the final dagger she had on her person, plunging it straight towards the source of the insect’s life force. The fang pierced straight through its chest and tore its way into the false serpent’s heart. She drove it as deep as she could, embedding half of its length into the blood-pumping muscle. But not deep enough.
Even with its pulse broken, the bug attempted to shake her off and go back on the offensive, but she was one step ahead of it. She grabbed the antler stuck inside its neck and tore downwards right as the snake tried to raise its head, mutilating its flesh and leaving a meter long gash down the length of its front. Blood splattered everywhere, covering hunter and hunted alike in cerulean.
Somehow, not even that was enough to finish it. It remained capable of movement even with its lungs hanging out of its chest. If Claire had been subjected to the same amount of punishment, she would have found herself dead three times over. She had to admit, its vitality was impressive, awe-inspiring even. But that was not going to save it. Nothing was. It couldn’t beat her in close combat without all of its legs.
It collapsed as she destroyed its lungs, her antler-sword literally gouging them out of its chest. And with one last Double Stab to the face, the battle finally drew to a close.
Chapter 11 - First Contact IV
Though the hourglass-shaped bug snake reared its head as soon as Claire entered the corridor, it didn’t quite grasp her intentions right off the bat. It gawked at her for a good few seconds, before finally lashing out with its tail. The halfbreed was able to avoid the poorly aimed haphazard attack, but soon found herself staring a minor issue in the face nonetheless. Following through on her plan was impossible. The living hourglass’ scales ran from front to back and facing it head on denied her the angle required to weave her spear through its armour. There were only two other potential vulnerabilities to attack, its face and its legs. And Claire, for reasons that did not need to be explained, chose the former.
Given her situation, it seemed like the obvious solution. There was always the argument that the scaleless legs were easier to damage, but the head was a veritable treasure trove of weaknesses. The half-insect had an open maw, a pair of eyes, and two soft-looking antennae. Even its nostrils could have been the subject of an attack if she was feeling adventurous enough; its nose’s interior was sure to be soft and unprotected.
Claire’s first target was an eye. She thrust her spear, knowing that the glowing green orb was well within reach, only to find her foe undamaged. Her aim was not at fault. The weapon had struck true. Two of its three blades had landed on target, but they left only the smallest of scratches as they slid off the unguarded organ as they would have a smooth rock.
The monster struck at her while she was focused on her failure. Its tail came from a blind spot, clobbering her in the side and sending her crashing to the ground. Her ribs creaked under the weight of the blow, but they didn’t give, no doubt in part thanks to her increased vitality.
A second swing came immediately. Gritting her teeth, she rolled out of the way, scrambled to her feet, and got to a safe distance. The creature screeched at her as she took a moment to catch her breath, her gaze focused on the light green aperture her spear had struck.
It isn’t an eye.
No longer in motion, the rogue realized that she had been fooled. The supposed organ that she had struck was a motionless prop.
It almost looks like one.
The false optical receptor featured a narrow blackened slit surrounded by dark red markings reminiscent of bloodshot veins. Both it and its pair even seemed to shimmer beneath the glow of the thousand irradiated rocks that filled the corridor. A closer inspection, however, revealed that they were not eyes. They were scales, oddly vibrant scales whose sole purpose was to throw off their beholders.
I’m such an idiot.
The folly of falling for its mimicry could have been easily avoided had she spent any more time examining it. Her lack of patience and caution had cost her dearly. She was missing a whole fifth of her health. And she’d gotten off lucky. A blow like the one she suffered could have easily debilitated or killed her had it hit her where she was more vulnerable.
Dismissing the thought with a shudder, the rogue raised her spear and prepared for the next exchange of blows, and just in time. Having recognized that she had no intention of retreating, the living hourglass reared its head before smashing it down at her full force. It used its tail as an anchor and its own skull as a weapon, swinging it with such speed and vigour that Claire almost expected to see its narrow midsection snap. The attack was backed by enough momentum to render it a deadly strike. But also a predictable one. She was able to dodge it with a quick sidestep. Thinking herself safe, she moved to swing her spear, but stopped herself short. She dove to the ground instead, narrowly avoiding a sweep of the serpent’s tail. The insect followed with another blow with its head, and then another with its rear, and so on, and so forth. It was a consistent pattern of vertical and horizontal swings, one after another. A method of attack equal parts numbingly simple and painfully effective.
The halfbreed found herself struggling to keep up. Avoiding the incoming blows took everything she had. While there were certainly a few opportunities to counter, none proved themselves particularly lucrative; she was unable to strike at anything but scale. Just when she felt like she was going to be stuck in a series of deadly perpetual coin flips, she recalled a lesson, a solution that allowed her to escape the insufferable sequence of crippling blows.
She raised her spear when it struck with its tail, blocking instead of dodging. But rather than holding her ground and competing with raw force, she leapt in the same direction as its strike, both to dampen the blow, and to leverage its momentum. The combined forces propelled her outside the monster’s effective range and allowed her a moment to regain her composure.
Contrary to her expectations, her spear was still intact. It was a fortuitous miscalculation, but not one that mattered, at least not right then. She cast the weapon aside and drew her club in its place, hoisting the heavy bone over her shoulder as she slid one leg forward and took a deep breath.
When it lunged at her again, she was ready. She stepped just outside the range of a heavy vertical headbutt and drove the bone straight into the creature’s skull as it entered her reach. The moment of contact was the moment she realized that her evasive maneuvers were pointless. It wouldn’t have touched her, even if she had held her position. The cleaving strike she landed on its head had displaced it, knocking it a whole meter to the right. Much to her own astonishment, the attack had managed to do much more than simply deter the beast or twist a few of its scales out of place. There was damage, significant, obvious, visible damage. The scales to bear the brunt of the blow were as crumbled and broken as the legs that had occupied the right side of its face. A deep blue liquid—blood—oozed from its wounds, staining the beast and her mace alike.
I was NOT expecting that.
Still staring with her eyes wide, it took the greenhorn a moment to chain her next strike; the heavier overhead blow she prepared came too late. Though the multi-legged freak no longer moved with its prior swiftness, it still managed to evade, leaving her mace to smash itself into the ground, leaving in its wake a small but undeniable crack in the cave’s rocky floor.
The snake bug tried bashing her with its head once more, but again, it was met with resistance in the form of a mace. This time, Claire was quick enough to deliver the crushing blow she had previously missed, smashing the front of its snout and breaking its jaw.
Maybe I should’ve chosen Barbarian after all… Wait, what the heck am I thinking!? Get ahold of yourself, me! You’re a proud Lady, not some uncouth Barbarian!
She tried to finish it, but the many legged serpent skittered off before she could. It retreated all the way to the T-shaped intersection at the opposite end of the corridor before rearing up, looking at her, and screeching in anger. The sound revealed its true nature; it was one that no real snake could have ever made.
Dagger Mastery was the only reason she was aware that it was looking at her. One of the skill’s secondary effects, its ability to locate weaknesses, had finally kicked in. It revealed that the creature’s eyes were hidden beneath its head. The tiny black circles, numbering eight in total, were hidden amongst its scales. She was fairly certain that it was using all eight to look at her. And she was right. It was looking at her. But what she failed to realize was that it wasn’t just looking at her.
It was aiming.
A jet of clear liquid shot from the insect’s mouth, visible only because of the way it distorted the light. She reacted, but not quickly enough to dodge it entirely. Her left arm was splashed with the runny fluid and drenched from the shoulder down.
Wailing like a banshee, she dropped her weapon, fell to her knees, and nearly blacked out. The pain started at her arm, but it didn’t end there. It rapidly coursed throughout the rest of her body, assailing it with burning despair, a constant fiery agony. It almost felt like she had been cast into a forge.
The liquid that the hundred legged snake had spat at her was not a problem in and of itself. It was just water. Plain, old, drinkable water. It hadn’t been fired at an incredible speed, nor had been concentrated to amplify its pressure. In fact, the impact itself was nothing of note, containing only the force of a gentle stream, but it pained her nonetheless. Because of its temperature.
The water had been heated above its boiling point, forcefully kept in liquid form through magical means. Enchanted, the fluid was so scorching hot that even a brief moment of contact turned her fair skin a deep shade of red. She was literally steaming, half-cooked, half-alive. The quarter of her health that remained would have been promptly removed had her opponent not suffered from its own attack. The burning liquid it synthesized hurt it as much as it hurt her. Its throat and mouth were no longer functional. It too was suffering. But that was simply the cost that came with using a borrowed ability.
Though they had taken similar amounts of damage, the insect was the first to recover. It was aware of the nature of its attack, and unlike her, it had managed to brace itself for the unreasonable pain. It crawled back over to her and smashed its tail into the ground, a blow heavier than any of its others. She was barely able to roll out of the way, spurred on only by the need to survive.
The pain never receded. Her arm screamed at her and refused to follow any of her commands. Steam rose from the affected flesh, her blood literally boiling. But still, she stood. She forced herself to her feet before the next strike came. Claire didn’t care that her health was mostly drained. Thirty was still more than what she had started with when she first arrived. She hadn’t escaped from the manor with her life so that it could be taken by something that couldn’t decide if it wanted to be a reptile or an isopod.
Side stepping another swing, she drew an antler from her bandolier and swung at the latest chink in the freakish bug’s armour. The bone pierced right through the soft-boiled scales and embedded itself into its thorax while the accompanying phantom strike created by her Double Stab skill chipped away at the centipede’s health.
Not wanting to waste any time pulling it out, she left the weapon as is and dove to the ground to dodge a horizontal sweep. The next time she rose from the floor, it was with a dagger in hand. This too was shoved into a weak spot, a small but visible eye socket.
Though her body felt sluggish from all the damage, she was able to spin around the pseudo-ophidian’s trunk and reach the back of its head with her other antler. In one swift motion, she used the sharpened bone to remove both its antennae. The result? Complete and utter chaos.
The loss of both its thermal sight and its sense of smell caused the legged serpent to panic. It started screeching nonstop and attacking haphazardly. It was so desperate to get her off of it that it bashed its tail against the back of its own head. Even though she was no longer there. Not anymore. Claire had used the confusion to slip away from her prey and retrieve her club, the weapon that had proved itself most damaging. She dragged the oversized femur across the floor as she moved. Not by choice. She wasn’t able to lift it, not with just one hand, and not while half her body felt like it had been lit ablaze. The sound it made as it scraped its way across the mossy floor was barely audible, but the insect noticed it nonetheless.
It raised its head and pointed its eyes in her direction, and then, in what seemed to be a fit of rage, it launched itself at her. It was still accurate even without two of its senses, but the attack’s wind up was significantly longer than it had been earlier in the fight. The amount of forewarning before each blow allowed her to dodge with ease.
Dancing her way around two heavy strikes, Claire spun her body around, making use of the momentum to compensate for the loss of her second arm. The twirling strike wasn’t anywhere nearly as powerful or accurate as a two-handed overhand smash, but it was still devastating enough to fulfill its purpose—pulverizing the creature’s thorax. Once the scales were broken, she dropped the mace in favour of the final dagger she had on her person, plunging it straight towards the source of the insect’s life force. The fang pierced straight through its chest and tore its way into the false serpent’s heart. She drove it as deep as she could, embedding half of its length into the blood-pumping muscle. But not deep enough.
Even with its pulse broken, the bug attempted to shake her off and go back on the offensive, but she was one step ahead of it. She grabbed the antler stuck inside its neck and tore downwards right as the snake tried to raise its head, mutilating its flesh and leaving a meter long gash down the length of its front. Blood splattered everywhere, covering hunter and hunted alike in cerulean.
Somehow, not even that was enough to finish it. It remained capable of movement even with its lungs hanging out of its chest. If Claire had been subjected to the same amount of punishment, she would have found herself dead three times over. She had to admit, its vitality was impressive, awe-inspiring even. But that was not going to save it. Nothing was. It couldn’t beat her in close combat without all of its legs.
It collapsed as she destroyed its lungs, her antler-sword literally gouging them out of its chest. And with one last Double Stab to the face, the battle finally drew to a close.
