Bones
shattered, the edge of the sword cut cleanly through an arm but the ribs broke
against steel as the blade passed through. The skeleton's spine was severed
high where its heart might have been; a shoulder blade spun away like a disk
and the joint where its other arm pivoted back and forth split in two, the knob
of bone and length of arm fell to the floor. Another skeleton was a step behind
the first. It walked into the sword's path as it swung up from the ruin of the
first, the tip lodging in its skull tearing the head free from the neck. Yellow
teeth gnawed at the metal of the blade, the skull became a ghastly trophy at
the end of Harald's sword. Both bodies fell to pieces and rattled upon the
stones as they came crashing down. Whatever force animating them was severed by
Harald's scything blade just as the bones of spine, shoulder and arm had been.
"Are
there more?" bellowed the ranger.
"Yes!
Yes!" shouted Harold. The thief ran forward, his small sword drawn, Little
Rat pulled two smaller blades from hide sheaths he'd made from a wolf's pelt
and attached to the old rope he used as a belt.
"Where?"
the ranger swung his blade but this time through empty air. "I need
light!"
"There
is one about ten feet to your right," Harold called to him. "The
left, the other two are on your left, they're near!"
The
ranger turned the blade to the right, but at the halfling's word he brought it
swinging to the left. The ranger clipped a wooden frame and thinking that he'd
hit a skeleton, Harald drew the sword back and struck with all his strength.
The ancient wood splintered, the frame flipped over and cracked apart, old
cloth shredding into fragments billowing out in a cloud of dust. The corner
post that formed a headboard broke away, one half sailing through the air.
Teeth shattered from the still animated skull, it bounced from a wall only a
moment after the broken post.
"You
hit a bed!" Harold yelled at him.
"Hells,
get me some light!" the ranger cursed.
"To
the right!" yelled Harold. "No, the left!"
"Make
up your mind!" grumbled the ranger.
A
skeleton leapt over the heap of broken wood, it collided with the ranger as he
tried to bring his sword around. Its bones were light; it had no flesh to add
weight to its attack. The ranger's arm and shoulder knocked it hard and threw
it back into the fragments of the bed. Bony hands closed on the ranger's arm,
he could not bring his blade against it while it grappled him. From the left
another skeleton clutched him by the throat, its fingers like a fist of
branches, sharp ends gouging into skin. One handed the ranger used the pommel
of his sword to beat away the strangling grasp. He spun and lifted both
skeletons from their feet but he could not break their grip. The pommel was a
poor weapon used blindly in the dark.
"Get
them off me," the ranger gasped, but the halfling and the orc could do
nothing while they shook clutching to both throat and arm.
"Stop
twisting!" Harold shifted trying to find a place to strike a boney leg or
hip without cutting the ranger as well. There was a solid crack, the metal
pommel had connected and broke a skull like the shell of a hollow egg. Clawing
fingers dropped from the ranger's throat, the skeleton fell apart like a puppet
with its strings and bindings cut.
*
* *
Dust
began to billow, the shattered bedframe shook; loose pieces of wood fell from
the rising bones. With unnatural strength it tore a three foot length of board from
the pile of debris. The skeleton brought up its makeshift club and advanced on
the ranger who struggled blindly in the dark. A blade gouged into its shin, a
second hacked into its thigh and carved out a divot of bone. Little Rat howled
out a challenge and tore into the skeleton with a flurry of blows. The boney
horror stared down with empty sockets, it swung the length of wood, but Little
Rat ducked beneath the blow. He sidestepped and brought his dagger skimming
along the outstretched arm shaving off a curl, whittling the skeleton down with
every stroke.
The
ranger heard the young orc howl, he knew where the sound had come from but he
could see nothing. One skeleton still clasped his arm, it clawed at him, finger
bones digging into the sleeve of his shirt, each digit strong as a metal clamp.
He could feel the flesh bruise, mashed beneath the crushing strength. The
skeleton rattled, he shook it like a housemaid would shake the dust from a
carpet, but he could not shake it loose. A flash of light lit the room, the
beams swayed to the right then toward the ranger.
Ivo
had come through the misty portal, the enchanted torch casting its rays into
the room. Little Rat squealed, he brought up an arm to protect his eyes but the
skeleton was unaffected by the sudden illumination. The board came down and
this time struck the small orc squarely atop the head. There was a crack, part
of the wood snapped off and a line of blood seeped from Little Rat's lank hair.
Harold ducked his head, he'd been slashing at the skeleton that grabbed the
ranger's arm and as he did he caught a glimpse of the light that that shone
from Ivo's torch. The edge of his knife opened a foot long gash in the ranger's
cloak, he'd try to pull his blow, only luck or the hand of fate kept him from
doing the same to the ranger's leg as he did to the cloak.
"What's
this?" Ivo said, startled as he walked into a fight. A pair of skeletal
feet slapped across Harold's face, Little Rat growled and waved his knives but
the skeleton with the wooden board struck him again. The ranger managed to
shift his sword from one hand to the other and now that he could see, he deftly
smashed in the skull of the skeleton hanging on his arm. Everything happened at
once before Ivo could do more than blink. Blood was pouring from Little Rat's
head; he staggered like a drunk on a three day binge, but managed to lash out
with his knives. The blades no more than scratched the monster's bones. It
raised its board again for a vicious stroke but there was a shriek of steel as
a blade sliced through the air. There was a glint of metal, a dark shape passed
above the young orc's head and the skeleton was gone. Arms, chest and spine
were chopped cleanly through and flung back against the wall. The last of the
skeletons was destroyed. The ranger's head twisted back and forth looking for
another foe and Little Rat sat on the ground holding his bleeding head between
his hands.
"Here
is your light," Harold said to the ranger, nodding toward the gnome.
"Next
time you're going through the door first," the ranger said to Ivo.
"Next
time you'll take the light with you," Ivo told him.
Alright, a little too much damage description . . . .considering that no one -- or almost no one -- can actually see what's going on. "The Ranger" is actually "Blind Fighting" here.
ReplyDeleteBoth Harold and Little Rat can see in the dark, but you as the reader can see everything I want you to.
ReplyDelete