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<blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 7586165" data-attributes="member: 143"><p>Chapter 275</p><p></p><p>Natak moved with such unexpected speed that the fight was almost over before it began.</p><p></p><p>The dragonborn’s wings pulsed as he leapt forward. He might not have been capable of flight, but it was enough to carry him across the twenty paces that separated the two combatants in the blink of an eye. Even with Xeeta’s <em>haste</em> spell augmenting his resources, Bredan only just barely dodged the sweep of the deadly obsidian axe. It clipped his shoulder and knocked one of the plates of the dwarf-forged mail he wore flying, slicing through the mail links underneath as if they had been made of string. The edge just barely grazed his skin, but he could feel a trickle of blood start down the arm as he desperately tried to recover.</p><p></p><p>But Natak gave him no respite. Even as the huge dragonborn landed he spun, transferring his momentum to a heavy backswing. Bredan deflected the blade with his sword, but the force of the impact drove him back a step and nearly knocked the weapon from his grasp. A third swing came at his head with almost impossible swiftness, but he ducked under it and swept his own sword around in a rapid counter. Augmented by the magic flowing through his body, the swing should have connected, but it caught only empty air. Bredan recovered and looked up to see that the dragonborn had fallen back a step and was now watching him with an intense expression.</p><p></p><p>It was then that Bredan realized that his assumption that his foe would be in a berserk frenzy from the shaman’s drugs was mistaken. Natak might have been augmented, but he was in complete control.</p><p></p><p>The dragonborn waited only long enough for his enemy to come to that realization before he attacked again.</p><p></p><p>This time Bredan didn’t try to parry, but as the blade of the axe swept toward him he summoned a <em>shield</em> at the last instant that deflected it high. But Natak kept rushing forward in the wake of the miss, sweeping the long haft of the axe around and driving it under his defense into his belly. Even through the layered protections of his armor Bredan had all of the wind blasted from his body. He staggered back, instinct alone causing him to bring the <em>shield</em> around in time to meet the follow-up that would have taken his head off his shoulders had it connected.</p><p></p><p>In desperation, Bredan went on the attack. His opponent lacked armor, which should have given the human an advantage, but Natak smoothly parried the first swing, turning it without harming the wooden shaft of his weapon. Bredan managed to catch the dragonborn on the side with his follow-through as he drew back, but the blow lacked strength and he only managed to tear a shallow cut in Natak’s thick hide.</p><p></p><p>When the pair separated again, Natak met his eyes and smiled.</p><p></p><p>Bredan felt a sudden calm came over him. He lifted his sword, his boosted strength allowing him to lift the now-huge weapon, and fell into the simple fighting stance that his uncle had drilled into him over so many hours in the yard behind his smithy.</p><p></p><p>When Natak rushed at him again, he was ready. Their blades swept through the air, sometimes seeming to blur together as the combatants exchanged blows. Bredan took another glancing hit that drew blood, but it didn’t seem to cut as deep as it could have. He realized that it was the effects of Quellan’s spell, absorbing a share of the damage he was taking. He wished he could look over to make sure the cleric was all right, but he could not afford to let his attention shift from his foe for even an instant.</p><p></p><p>He managed to get another hit in, slashing the dragonborn on the forearm on his primary hand. Natak merely hissed and pulled back a step to adjust his grip on his weapon. Expecting another quick assault, Bredan fell back into his stance once more.</p><p></p><p>But this time the dragonborn did not charge. Bredan realized too late what he was doing, too late to evade the gout of fire that poured from the creature’s huge jaws and engulfed him.</p><p></p><p>Again Bredan devolved to instinct, bringing the hilt of his sword up, presenting the weapon point-down toward his foe. He could feel the magic surging at his call. The flames still hurt, but not terribly. As they died, he stepped forward and lifted his sword again. Flames clung to the blade as he swept it into his enemy’s body. This time Natak was caught off guard, and the stroke opened a deep gash just above his left hip. Bredan tried to follow with a thrust toward his face, but the dragonborn recovered swiftly and deflected it with his axe.</p><p></p><p>Now it was Natak’s turn to fall back. Bredan was not entirely surprised to see the flow of blood from the dragonborn’s wound quickly ease and then cease completely. Just like his own friends were boosting him, the shaman was aiding his champion. Apparently, the creatures’ code of honor did not preclude such aid. It was probably for the best; without Xeeta’s spell and Quellan’s bond Bredan thought the chief might have already killed him.</p><p></p><p>Natak launched another attack, and Bredan met it with another <em>shield</em>. This time he was expecting the follow-up, and while he took another hard hit across the body he got his foe off-balance enough to score another deep cut across his opponent’s chest. As Natak shifted to bring his axe around Bredan pulled his sword up low and tore it across his foe’s leg, opening yet another gash. The dragonborn was bleeding from several wounds now, too many for the shaman to counter.</p><p></p><p>But as Bredan prepared for his foe’s next attack, his muscles suddenly froze. He couldn’t move. His sword was halfway up into a defensive stance, useless against the attack that Natak was already launching.</p><p></p><p>The axe struck Bredan in the chest. The dwarf-forged steel held, but the impact of the blow knocked him off his feet. He flew back several paces and landed in the grass, trampling down a broad swath of it.</p><p></p><p>Twenty feet away, a stir went through Bredan’s companions. Weapons shifted, echoed by a similar motion on the far side of the circle. “Let me know when to start blasting,” Xeeta said, but Quellan held up a hand. “Wait,” he said to all of them, then focused his attention on the combat.</p><p></p><p>Bredan could only stare up as the hulking figure of his foe stepped into view. Natak had his axe up but hesitated; maybe his code of honor made him reluctant to strike down a helpless foe, at least while all of his people were watching. But finally he lifted the weapon above his head. Bredan focused his mind, tried to call upon the power that had aided him before, but he couldn’t shake off the shaman’s spell.</p><p></p><p>A collective hush spread through both sides watching the fight, but the killing strike didn’t come. The axe hung in mid-air. Natak’s entire body tensed, and Bredan realized that Quellan must have hit the chief with the same magic that the shaman had used on him.</p><p></p><p>Bredan took advantage of the delay, throwing the full force of his will against the spell. For a moment he thought that his muscles might tear themselves apart from the effort, but then he felt it come apart and he was free. He rolled back to his feet, stumbling a bit until he got full control of his legs again. He turned back to his foe, undecided about whether he should take advantage, but he decision was unnecessary. Natak too had recovered, and he was shaking out his limbs as he circled to the side. The dragonborn looked over toward his shaman and made a slashing gesture with one hand, but Bredan couldn’t tell if he was telling him to desist or calling for more aid.</p><p></p><p>Bredan knew that he was running out of time. He could only call upon his magic so many times, and Xeeta’s spell would only last a few more seconds at best. But beyond that was his own dwindling endurance. He was in good shape, his training augmented by the hard work he’d put his body to since they’d arrived in Weltarin, but he already knew that the dragonborn had a remarkable stamina. He had no idea how long the drugs that boosted their strength and constitution lasted, but he guessed it would be longer than his own muscles would take him.</p><p></p><p>He went back into his simple stance just as Natak launched another attack. He expected yet another surprise, and so he wasn’t caught entirely off guard when the two blades met in another violent parry and then his foe charged into him. Neither could use their weapons effectively in such close quarters, so Bredan let his sword go and grabbed hold of the axe. The dragonborn’s strength was overpowering, but Bredan had the advantage of size and position. Natak lunged forward, trying to knock his foe off balance, but Bredan dug his feet in and held his ground. The chief snapped his jaws around the warrior’s forearm, trying to shatter his grip and pull the axe free, but Bredan just gritted his teeth and held on. Natak thrust his other hand up, driving his claws toward his opponent’s face, but Bredan snapped his head forward and caught the attack with the brow of his helmet.</p><p></p><p>For a moment the two foes held each other in a deadly embrace. Then Natak tried one last gambit. The dragonborn spread its wings and leapt up, trying to free himself and attack his foe from above. Bredan held onto the axe, but then Natak drove one clawed foot into his chest, using the strength of his legs to pull away. The chief let out a roar of triumph as he sprang a good ten feet into the air, the axe coming up to strike. But when he looked down, he realized that he’d been tricked. Bredan’s sword was in his hands again and already swinging up to meet his foe as he started to descend. Natak tried to beat his wings in an attempt to evade, but it was too late. The sword struck him on the right side where his leg met his body. The impact shattered his hip and carved deep into his gut. The force of the blow swung the crippled dragonborn around. As he fell Bredan struck again, biting into his right arm and knocking the axe from his grasp.</p><p></p><p>A dismal sound passed through the gathered dragonborn as Natak fell to the ground. It faded into a pregnant hush as Bredan stepped forward over his fallen foe.</p><p></p><p>The <em>enlarge</em> spell had faded, restoring him to his normal size, but that only made the sight of the battered human standing over the dying dragonborn that much more impressive. Natak laughed as he looked up at his victorious opponent. Blood gurgled from his jaws as he turned his head, presenting his throat. The point of the sword hung over the chieftain as he waited for Bredan to finish it.</p><p></p><p>For a moment, it looked as though he would do it. A tense quiet hung over the meadow that had been transformed into a bloody battlefield. The sword waited only for a twitch of a hand for the killing thrust. But then Bredan drew back. Without taking his eyes off his foe, he took several steps back. He paused only to recover the huge axe and then made his way back to his companions.</p><p></p><p>Glori was the first to meet him. “Are you okay?” she asked, pouring a <em>cure wounds</em> spell into him.</p><p></p><p>“I’ve been better. Quellan, are you all right?” The cleric looked as though he was having some trouble standing. Blood had seeped out from his armor at all the places where Bredan had been struck by the chief’s axe.</p><p></p><p>“I’m all right,” Quellan said.</p><p></p><p>“We’re not out of this yet,” Kosk reminded them. Bredan turned to look at the dragonborn, both the cohort that had accompanied the chief to the duel and the dozens more still standing in a row along the far edge of the meadow.</p><p></p><p>“Maybe you broke some stupid rule by not killing him,” Xeeta pointed out. As Glori escorted Bredan back into their ranks she stepped protectively in front of him, her rod cradled too-casually in the crook of her arm.</p><p></p><p>“Nobody do anything aggressive,” Bredan said. “It’s their move.”</p><p></p><p>The companions watched as Natak slowly pulled himself to his feet. It was clear that it took a herculean effort just to get that far. Blood had poured down over the dragonborn’s legs, and trails of it had coursed from the sides of his jaws to stain his neck and chest. With his hip shattered he could only walk with an awkward, shambling gait that had to be inflicting agony with each step.</p><p></p><p>“If he gets to the shaman we could have another fight on our hands,” Kosk warned.</p><p></p><p>“He won’t,” Xeeta said.</p><p></p><p>But Natak came to a stop a good five or six paces from his allies. With a slow effort accompanied by wheezing huffs he drew himself upright. The six largest of the red berserker warriors stepped forward to form a circle around him.</p><p></p><p>Then, without any warning, all six leapt upon their leader and began tearing him to pieces. They did not use weapons, just their claws and teeth. Natak made no move to resist, and in fact seemed to be trying to stay upright until the last possible instant. Barely fifteen seconds passed before it was over. There was little left when the reds drew back and returned to their positions.</p><p></p><p>“Grim,” Glori said.</p><p></p><p>“It’s a grim world, here,” Kosk noted.</p><p></p><p>The dragonborn of the advance party didn’t even look at the companions as they retreated back to their fellows. One of them raised a horn and blew several long notes. Then they turned and made their way back into the jungle. They were still visible when a cohort of several dozen more appeared along the near side of the meadow and hurried to join their comrades.</p><p></p><p>The adventurers watched until they were all out of sight. “Think that’s the last we’ll see of them?” Glori asked.</p><p></p><p>“It doesn’t matter,” Bredan said. “They know what will happen if they challenge us again.”</p><p></p><p>“Do you need more healing?” Glori asked.</p><p></p><p>“I’m fine for now,” Bredan said, and in fact it looked as though he’d gotten his second wind. “Help Quellan, but quickly. I don’t want to stay here another minute longer than necessary.”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazybones, post: 7586165, member: 143"] Chapter 275 Natak moved with such unexpected speed that the fight was almost over before it began. The dragonborn’s wings pulsed as he leapt forward. He might not have been capable of flight, but it was enough to carry him across the twenty paces that separated the two combatants in the blink of an eye. Even with Xeeta’s [i]haste[/i] spell augmenting his resources, Bredan only just barely dodged the sweep of the deadly obsidian axe. It clipped his shoulder and knocked one of the plates of the dwarf-forged mail he wore flying, slicing through the mail links underneath as if they had been made of string. The edge just barely grazed his skin, but he could feel a trickle of blood start down the arm as he desperately tried to recover. But Natak gave him no respite. Even as the huge dragonborn landed he spun, transferring his momentum to a heavy backswing. Bredan deflected the blade with his sword, but the force of the impact drove him back a step and nearly knocked the weapon from his grasp. A third swing came at his head with almost impossible swiftness, but he ducked under it and swept his own sword around in a rapid counter. Augmented by the magic flowing through his body, the swing should have connected, but it caught only empty air. Bredan recovered and looked up to see that the dragonborn had fallen back a step and was now watching him with an intense expression. It was then that Bredan realized that his assumption that his foe would be in a berserk frenzy from the shaman’s drugs was mistaken. Natak might have been augmented, but he was in complete control. The dragonborn waited only long enough for his enemy to come to that realization before he attacked again. This time Bredan didn’t try to parry, but as the blade of the axe swept toward him he summoned a [i]shield[/i] at the last instant that deflected it high. But Natak kept rushing forward in the wake of the miss, sweeping the long haft of the axe around and driving it under his defense into his belly. Even through the layered protections of his armor Bredan had all of the wind blasted from his body. He staggered back, instinct alone causing him to bring the [i]shield[/i] around in time to meet the follow-up that would have taken his head off his shoulders had it connected. In desperation, Bredan went on the attack. His opponent lacked armor, which should have given the human an advantage, but Natak smoothly parried the first swing, turning it without harming the wooden shaft of his weapon. Bredan managed to catch the dragonborn on the side with his follow-through as he drew back, but the blow lacked strength and he only managed to tear a shallow cut in Natak’s thick hide. When the pair separated again, Natak met his eyes and smiled. Bredan felt a sudden calm came over him. He lifted his sword, his boosted strength allowing him to lift the now-huge weapon, and fell into the simple fighting stance that his uncle had drilled into him over so many hours in the yard behind his smithy. When Natak rushed at him again, he was ready. Their blades swept through the air, sometimes seeming to blur together as the combatants exchanged blows. Bredan took another glancing hit that drew blood, but it didn’t seem to cut as deep as it could have. He realized that it was the effects of Quellan’s spell, absorbing a share of the damage he was taking. He wished he could look over to make sure the cleric was all right, but he could not afford to let his attention shift from his foe for even an instant. He managed to get another hit in, slashing the dragonborn on the forearm on his primary hand. Natak merely hissed and pulled back a step to adjust his grip on his weapon. Expecting another quick assault, Bredan fell back into his stance once more. But this time the dragonborn did not charge. Bredan realized too late what he was doing, too late to evade the gout of fire that poured from the creature’s huge jaws and engulfed him. Again Bredan devolved to instinct, bringing the hilt of his sword up, presenting the weapon point-down toward his foe. He could feel the magic surging at his call. The flames still hurt, but not terribly. As they died, he stepped forward and lifted his sword again. Flames clung to the blade as he swept it into his enemy’s body. This time Natak was caught off guard, and the stroke opened a deep gash just above his left hip. Bredan tried to follow with a thrust toward his face, but the dragonborn recovered swiftly and deflected it with his axe. Now it was Natak’s turn to fall back. Bredan was not entirely surprised to see the flow of blood from the dragonborn’s wound quickly ease and then cease completely. Just like his own friends were boosting him, the shaman was aiding his champion. Apparently, the creatures’ code of honor did not preclude such aid. It was probably for the best; without Xeeta’s spell and Quellan’s bond Bredan thought the chief might have already killed him. Natak launched another attack, and Bredan met it with another [i]shield[/i]. This time he was expecting the follow-up, and while he took another hard hit across the body he got his foe off-balance enough to score another deep cut across his opponent’s chest. As Natak shifted to bring his axe around Bredan pulled his sword up low and tore it across his foe’s leg, opening yet another gash. The dragonborn was bleeding from several wounds now, too many for the shaman to counter. But as Bredan prepared for his foe’s next attack, his muscles suddenly froze. He couldn’t move. His sword was halfway up into a defensive stance, useless against the attack that Natak was already launching. The axe struck Bredan in the chest. The dwarf-forged steel held, but the impact of the blow knocked him off his feet. He flew back several paces and landed in the grass, trampling down a broad swath of it. Twenty feet away, a stir went through Bredan’s companions. Weapons shifted, echoed by a similar motion on the far side of the circle. “Let me know when to start blasting,” Xeeta said, but Quellan held up a hand. “Wait,” he said to all of them, then focused his attention on the combat. Bredan could only stare up as the hulking figure of his foe stepped into view. Natak had his axe up but hesitated; maybe his code of honor made him reluctant to strike down a helpless foe, at least while all of his people were watching. But finally he lifted the weapon above his head. Bredan focused his mind, tried to call upon the power that had aided him before, but he couldn’t shake off the shaman’s spell. A collective hush spread through both sides watching the fight, but the killing strike didn’t come. The axe hung in mid-air. Natak’s entire body tensed, and Bredan realized that Quellan must have hit the chief with the same magic that the shaman had used on him. Bredan took advantage of the delay, throwing the full force of his will against the spell. For a moment he thought that his muscles might tear themselves apart from the effort, but then he felt it come apart and he was free. He rolled back to his feet, stumbling a bit until he got full control of his legs again. He turned back to his foe, undecided about whether he should take advantage, but he decision was unnecessary. Natak too had recovered, and he was shaking out his limbs as he circled to the side. The dragonborn looked over toward his shaman and made a slashing gesture with one hand, but Bredan couldn’t tell if he was telling him to desist or calling for more aid. Bredan knew that he was running out of time. He could only call upon his magic so many times, and Xeeta’s spell would only last a few more seconds at best. But beyond that was his own dwindling endurance. He was in good shape, his training augmented by the hard work he’d put his body to since they’d arrived in Weltarin, but he already knew that the dragonborn had a remarkable stamina. He had no idea how long the drugs that boosted their strength and constitution lasted, but he guessed it would be longer than his own muscles would take him. He went back into his simple stance just as Natak launched another attack. He expected yet another surprise, and so he wasn’t caught entirely off guard when the two blades met in another violent parry and then his foe charged into him. Neither could use their weapons effectively in such close quarters, so Bredan let his sword go and grabbed hold of the axe. The dragonborn’s strength was overpowering, but Bredan had the advantage of size and position. Natak lunged forward, trying to knock his foe off balance, but Bredan dug his feet in and held his ground. The chief snapped his jaws around the warrior’s forearm, trying to shatter his grip and pull the axe free, but Bredan just gritted his teeth and held on. Natak thrust his other hand up, driving his claws toward his opponent’s face, but Bredan snapped his head forward and caught the attack with the brow of his helmet. For a moment the two foes held each other in a deadly embrace. Then Natak tried one last gambit. The dragonborn spread its wings and leapt up, trying to free himself and attack his foe from above. Bredan held onto the axe, but then Natak drove one clawed foot into his chest, using the strength of his legs to pull away. The chief let out a roar of triumph as he sprang a good ten feet into the air, the axe coming up to strike. But when he looked down, he realized that he’d been tricked. Bredan’s sword was in his hands again and already swinging up to meet his foe as he started to descend. Natak tried to beat his wings in an attempt to evade, but it was too late. The sword struck him on the right side where his leg met his body. The impact shattered his hip and carved deep into his gut. The force of the blow swung the crippled dragonborn around. As he fell Bredan struck again, biting into his right arm and knocking the axe from his grasp. A dismal sound passed through the gathered dragonborn as Natak fell to the ground. It faded into a pregnant hush as Bredan stepped forward over his fallen foe. The [i]enlarge[/i] spell had faded, restoring him to his normal size, but that only made the sight of the battered human standing over the dying dragonborn that much more impressive. Natak laughed as he looked up at his victorious opponent. Blood gurgled from his jaws as he turned his head, presenting his throat. The point of the sword hung over the chieftain as he waited for Bredan to finish it. For a moment, it looked as though he would do it. A tense quiet hung over the meadow that had been transformed into a bloody battlefield. The sword waited only for a twitch of a hand for the killing thrust. But then Bredan drew back. Without taking his eyes off his foe, he took several steps back. He paused only to recover the huge axe and then made his way back to his companions. Glori was the first to meet him. “Are you okay?” she asked, pouring a [i]cure wounds[/i] spell into him. “I’ve been better. Quellan, are you all right?” The cleric looked as though he was having some trouble standing. Blood had seeped out from his armor at all the places where Bredan had been struck by the chief’s axe. “I’m all right,” Quellan said. “We’re not out of this yet,” Kosk reminded them. Bredan turned to look at the dragonborn, both the cohort that had accompanied the chief to the duel and the dozens more still standing in a row along the far edge of the meadow. “Maybe you broke some stupid rule by not killing him,” Xeeta pointed out. As Glori escorted Bredan back into their ranks she stepped protectively in front of him, her rod cradled too-casually in the crook of her arm. “Nobody do anything aggressive,” Bredan said. “It’s their move.” The companions watched as Natak slowly pulled himself to his feet. It was clear that it took a herculean effort just to get that far. Blood had poured down over the dragonborn’s legs, and trails of it had coursed from the sides of his jaws to stain his neck and chest. With his hip shattered he could only walk with an awkward, shambling gait that had to be inflicting agony with each step. “If he gets to the shaman we could have another fight on our hands,” Kosk warned. “He won’t,” Xeeta said. But Natak came to a stop a good five or six paces from his allies. With a slow effort accompanied by wheezing huffs he drew himself upright. The six largest of the red berserker warriors stepped forward to form a circle around him. Then, without any warning, all six leapt upon their leader and began tearing him to pieces. They did not use weapons, just their claws and teeth. Natak made no move to resist, and in fact seemed to be trying to stay upright until the last possible instant. Barely fifteen seconds passed before it was over. There was little left when the reds drew back and returned to their positions. “Grim,” Glori said. “It’s a grim world, here,” Kosk noted. The dragonborn of the advance party didn’t even look at the companions as they retreated back to their fellows. One of them raised a horn and blew several long notes. Then they turned and made their way back into the jungle. They were still visible when a cohort of several dozen more appeared along the near side of the meadow and hurried to join their comrades. The adventurers watched until they were all out of sight. “Think that’s the last we’ll see of them?” Glori asked. “It doesn’t matter,” Bredan said. “They know what will happen if they challenge us again.” “Do you need more healing?” Glori asked. “I’m fine for now,” Bredan said, and in fact it looked as though he’d gotten his second wind. “Help Quellan, but quickly. I don’t want to stay here another minute longer than necessary.” [/QUOTE]
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