76th of Ashan 719, ~06:00 Continued from here.
Varthakh hurtled across the mountain range at the heavy slam of the Sakarum to their side. The impact had taken them by surprise and stole the air from their lungs. While they soared, they managed to collect themselves and tumbled through a boulder before they rolled to their knees with one hand pressed to the ground. They stared down the direction of the impact in time to see the blur of the Sakarum rushing toward them.
They had little time to react, but they had the reflexes and bodily control to dodge an arrow that they'd noticed a mere ten feet from impact. On top of that, they had the benefit of their increased speed to help them receive and counter the attack. When they lifted their arms to catch the Sakarum, they noticed something strange about the attack. A drawing of pressure in the muscles of the creature near the neck, as though it was augmenting the pressure of their strike just a trill before impact.
With a growl, they put all their strength into receiving the attack in an effort to counter it, but the bash of its head knocked them off balance and sent them tumbling back over their knees, then landed them flat on their back. Quick as a flash, Varthakh rolled to their feet and deftly stepped out of the way of another one of the creature's charges. They looked to their arms as it rushed past, and realized that their scales, which was the adapted skin of the Solghannon, had been shattered by the force of the strike.
The searing dull ache in their arms, it was a pain they hadn't experienced in some time. It had been Arcs since they truly pushed themselves, even longer since they faced a worthy opponent, one that could give them a run for their money even while fighting at their strongest.
Their strongest being Reiner, the Lurker of the plains totem that they had assumed with a dense skeleton, cushioned by steel-like muscles and wrapped in thick, Solghannon armor with runes of speed carved into their form. They were, what they'd previously believed to be, indestructible and unstoppable, but just one of Gauthrel's finest was putting them to shame.
Was it because the world didn't feel real? Because they felt as though they were merely a passenger in their own body? it certainly dulled their drive, their ability to fight. One thing they knew was real, though, above all else, was the pain in their arms. It had been so long now since Reiner, of all their totems, was hurt by another. That pain was real, and they knew it so.
The tremors of the earth sounded again, and they looked in time to see the Sakarum hurtling toward them, rolled up in a ball like an armadillo. It was the attack that they'd seen destroy city walls; the battering ram. They couldn't take the Sakarum's strength, the blood that ran from the cracks in their armor told them just that. So, with their impressive speed and reflexes, they dashed aside of the strike in a blur, then drove their fist full force into the side of the beast while it rolled.
They used their well-practiced ability: Tectonic Strike, which sounded a loud, boom of thunder that rippled across the mountains. The force of the thunderous impact also sent a powerful shockwave, which knocked the Sakarum from its tumbling roll-attack and even knocked it, the twenty-ton monster, clean off its feet.
The creature didn't roll far, though it landed on its shell-like back with its soft underbelly exposed to them. Varthakh took immediate advantage and bolted toward the beast. At once, it curled back into a ball at speeds they hadn't anticipated. Its sharp tail was suddenly on a collision course for their head, so Varthakh brought themselves to a halt, but all too slow. Traveling at ten-times their usual speed without additional grip on their feet, they skidded across the stone and crashed into the creature's side again.
The beast tumbled but maintained the curl of its hard, shell-like armor. It was then that they noticed that the beast didn't have so much as a scratch on the plate of its hull, let alone a crack or a dent as they had hoped for. "Gods!" They spoke in their own head, "We know, it's tough," replied the paltharnum to themselves. "Don't give ups, it must get tireds!" Came the Wyvarnth's voice in their head. Varthakh scrambled to their feet as the creature adjusted, then they slapped themselves in the forehead with their palm; an effort to wake themselves, to try and gain some sense of the situation.
Still, the thickness of their dream-like euphoria hung over them and they couldn't seem to clear their head despite their skill in meditation. Another slam hit them head on and knocked them clean over the rolling ball of monster. Along their front, their scales were softer. Those plates stood no chance against the kinetic force of the Sakarum. All across their stomach, deep gashes opened in their body and they bled quite badly. Their muscles were quite well-attuned to receiving blunt force trauma, though.
Again, all the wind was knocked from their lungs, and they found themselves breathless with their battered diaphragm. Despite all their endurance, the inability to breathe was taking its toll on them. The Sakarum wasn't slowing down either. It had turned on a dime and was hurtling toward them again. Varthakh was left on their knees, clenching their stomach while they tried to regain their ability to breathe. The monster didn't offer them that opportunity, however. With a draw of effort, they pushed themselves out of the path of the comparably slow opponent and swung their free fist in a broad curl, which landed another tectonic strike against its hull.
Just like last time, it did little but knock the Sakarum momentarily off balance without so much as scratching the shell. "I can't break it," they said to themselves in their head, still on autopilot. "Are you kidding? You're not even thinking!" Replied the Paltharnum. "Yes, not thinks," came the Wyvarnth. "I can't think either," they told themselves. Indeed, it was hard. They'd retreated into themselves and let the world roll on without them in wake of their grief and loss. "This creature, you've seen it knock down castle walls with its charge. Our punches won't do anything to a hull like that," said the Thiussum. The Lurker blinked then as the beast recovered from its tipped position, for they understood and the claim made sense.
"Your fists have too broad a surface area, you're just pushing it around with your strength. If you could focus all that strength on a much finer point, you might be able to pierce its hull," added the Thiussum. "I agree, you need to stab the fucker," the Paltharnum said following the assessment. "Yes, stabs" agreed the Wyvarnth. It was a decent observation, but it seemed their totems had overlooked one detail. "We have nothing to stab it with, your speculation is pointless." For a moment or two, they felt smart for the rebuttal of their plan, until the three unanimously slapped their own faces with open palms. "...What?" Asked the Protean in their own head. "Look up," instructed the Thiussum.
They returned from their momentary reprieve to see the Sakarum on its feet in the distance. It curled into a ball then, though it only appeared as a blur of brown. They looked upward as they'd been instructed, but saw nothing but the blur of the dark morning sky, their forehead, their horns, their hair... Their horns. If they'd said they felt no shame at their oversight, they'd have been lying.
The ground shook ahead of them as the Sakarum rolled and built momentum while it hurtled toward them. Without pause, they reached to their horn and pulled. Their head moved with their pull, but they engaged their neck muscles and pulled against it. The bone creaked and groaned beneath the strain of their strength while they clutched their bleeding gut. Massive pressure built in their head as they tried their damned hardest to break off that piece of themselves.
The monster drew ever-near, hurtling with great momentum. Out of time, they released their gut and gripped their free horn, then pulled in both directions on both horns. The Lurker screamed in pain then as the bone splintered, then snapped. And just a trill before the impact of the beast, they slammed the point of the horn full force into its hull and pierced the creature deeply. The momentum of the monster's charge carried through and it tumbled into them regardless of their effort. It knocked them to the floor with a slam that they could have sworn stopped their heart for a trill.
The Lurker skidded across the stone of the mountain with the oppressive weight of the beast atop them. It unfurled upon them and ground against the stone before it drew to a halt. The Lurker coughed and sputtered as they tried again to draw breath, then lifted their head from the floor to look at the Sakarum, which was impaled completely through the head on their broken, bloody horn.
With a deep exhale, they laid limp against the stone and just breathed. In their head, there was a rejoicing chorus of cheers, hisses and animalistic noises that all seemed to congratulate them on the fight. It was all their totems, rejoicing in their victory. All that was left to do then was pick up the pieces. They dismissed their runes of speed in favor of runes of strength, which allowed them to quite easily lift the Sakarum carcass from their body. Once they were free of the pressure, they cast Chrysalis during meditation and regenerated all their wounds.
Once they'd collected themselves and properly recovered, they snapped off one of the creature's toes and stowed it in their mane for a later date, then gripped the Sakarum by its jaw and dragged it through the dirt on their way back to Kaer Jeger.
Varthakh hurtled across the mountain range at the heavy slam of the Sakarum to their side. The impact had taken them by surprise and stole the air from their lungs. While they soared, they managed to collect themselves and tumbled through a boulder before they rolled to their knees with one hand pressed to the ground. They stared down the direction of the impact in time to see the blur of the Sakarum rushing toward them.
They had little time to react, but they had the reflexes and bodily control to dodge an arrow that they'd noticed a mere ten feet from impact. On top of that, they had the benefit of their increased speed to help them receive and counter the attack. When they lifted their arms to catch the Sakarum, they noticed something strange about the attack. A drawing of pressure in the muscles of the creature near the neck, as though it was augmenting the pressure of their strike just a trill before impact.
With a growl, they put all their strength into receiving the attack in an effort to counter it, but the bash of its head knocked them off balance and sent them tumbling back over their knees, then landed them flat on their back. Quick as a flash, Varthakh rolled to their feet and deftly stepped out of the way of another one of the creature's charges. They looked to their arms as it rushed past, and realized that their scales, which was the adapted skin of the Solghannon, had been shattered by the force of the strike.
The searing dull ache in their arms, it was a pain they hadn't experienced in some time. It had been Arcs since they truly pushed themselves, even longer since they faced a worthy opponent, one that could give them a run for their money even while fighting at their strongest.
Their strongest being Reiner, the Lurker of the plains totem that they had assumed with a dense skeleton, cushioned by steel-like muscles and wrapped in thick, Solghannon armor with runes of speed carved into their form. They were, what they'd previously believed to be, indestructible and unstoppable, but just one of Gauthrel's finest was putting them to shame.
Was it because the world didn't feel real? Because they felt as though they were merely a passenger in their own body? it certainly dulled their drive, their ability to fight. One thing they knew was real, though, above all else, was the pain in their arms. It had been so long now since Reiner, of all their totems, was hurt by another. That pain was real, and they knew it so.
The tremors of the earth sounded again, and they looked in time to see the Sakarum hurtling toward them, rolled up in a ball like an armadillo. It was the attack that they'd seen destroy city walls; the battering ram. They couldn't take the Sakarum's strength, the blood that ran from the cracks in their armor told them just that. So, with their impressive speed and reflexes, they dashed aside of the strike in a blur, then drove their fist full force into the side of the beast while it rolled.
They used their well-practiced ability: Tectonic Strike, which sounded a loud, boom of thunder that rippled across the mountains. The force of the thunderous impact also sent a powerful shockwave, which knocked the Sakarum from its tumbling roll-attack and even knocked it, the twenty-ton monster, clean off its feet.
The creature didn't roll far, though it landed on its shell-like back with its soft underbelly exposed to them. Varthakh took immediate advantage and bolted toward the beast. At once, it curled back into a ball at speeds they hadn't anticipated. Its sharp tail was suddenly on a collision course for their head, so Varthakh brought themselves to a halt, but all too slow. Traveling at ten-times their usual speed without additional grip on their feet, they skidded across the stone and crashed into the creature's side again.
The beast tumbled but maintained the curl of its hard, shell-like armor. It was then that they noticed that the beast didn't have so much as a scratch on the plate of its hull, let alone a crack or a dent as they had hoped for. "Gods!" They spoke in their own head, "We know, it's tough," replied the paltharnum to themselves. "Don't give ups, it must get tireds!" Came the Wyvarnth's voice in their head. Varthakh scrambled to their feet as the creature adjusted, then they slapped themselves in the forehead with their palm; an effort to wake themselves, to try and gain some sense of the situation.
Still, the thickness of their dream-like euphoria hung over them and they couldn't seem to clear their head despite their skill in meditation. Another slam hit them head on and knocked them clean over the rolling ball of monster. Along their front, their scales were softer. Those plates stood no chance against the kinetic force of the Sakarum. All across their stomach, deep gashes opened in their body and they bled quite badly. Their muscles were quite well-attuned to receiving blunt force trauma, though.
Again, all the wind was knocked from their lungs, and they found themselves breathless with their battered diaphragm. Despite all their endurance, the inability to breathe was taking its toll on them. The Sakarum wasn't slowing down either. It had turned on a dime and was hurtling toward them again. Varthakh was left on their knees, clenching their stomach while they tried to regain their ability to breathe. The monster didn't offer them that opportunity, however. With a draw of effort, they pushed themselves out of the path of the comparably slow opponent and swung their free fist in a broad curl, which landed another tectonic strike against its hull.
Just like last time, it did little but knock the Sakarum momentarily off balance without so much as scratching the shell. "I can't break it," they said to themselves in their head, still on autopilot. "Are you kidding? You're not even thinking!" Replied the Paltharnum. "Yes, not thinks," came the Wyvarnth. "I can't think either," they told themselves. Indeed, it was hard. They'd retreated into themselves and let the world roll on without them in wake of their grief and loss. "This creature, you've seen it knock down castle walls with its charge. Our punches won't do anything to a hull like that," said the Thiussum. The Lurker blinked then as the beast recovered from its tipped position, for they understood and the claim made sense.
"Your fists have too broad a surface area, you're just pushing it around with your strength. If you could focus all that strength on a much finer point, you might be able to pierce its hull," added the Thiussum. "I agree, you need to stab the fucker," the Paltharnum said following the assessment. "Yes, stabs" agreed the Wyvarnth. It was a decent observation, but it seemed their totems had overlooked one detail. "We have nothing to stab it with, your speculation is pointless." For a moment or two, they felt smart for the rebuttal of their plan, until the three unanimously slapped their own faces with open palms. "...What?" Asked the Protean in their own head. "Look up," instructed the Thiussum.
They returned from their momentary reprieve to see the Sakarum on its feet in the distance. It curled into a ball then, though it only appeared as a blur of brown. They looked upward as they'd been instructed, but saw nothing but the blur of the dark morning sky, their forehead, their horns, their hair... Their horns. If they'd said they felt no shame at their oversight, they'd have been lying.
The ground shook ahead of them as the Sakarum rolled and built momentum while it hurtled toward them. Without pause, they reached to their horn and pulled. Their head moved with their pull, but they engaged their neck muscles and pulled against it. The bone creaked and groaned beneath the strain of their strength while they clutched their bleeding gut. Massive pressure built in their head as they tried their damned hardest to break off that piece of themselves.
The monster drew ever-near, hurtling with great momentum. Out of time, they released their gut and gripped their free horn, then pulled in both directions on both horns. The Lurker screamed in pain then as the bone splintered, then snapped. And just a trill before the impact of the beast, they slammed the point of the horn full force into its hull and pierced the creature deeply. The momentum of the monster's charge carried through and it tumbled into them regardless of their effort. It knocked them to the floor with a slam that they could have sworn stopped their heart for a trill.
The Lurker skidded across the stone of the mountain with the oppressive weight of the beast atop them. It unfurled upon them and ground against the stone before it drew to a halt. The Lurker coughed and sputtered as they tried again to draw breath, then lifted their head from the floor to look at the Sakarum, which was impaled completely through the head on their broken, bloody horn.
With a deep exhale, they laid limp against the stone and just breathed. In their head, there was a rejoicing chorus of cheers, hisses and animalistic noises that all seemed to congratulate them on the fight. It was all their totems, rejoicing in their victory. All that was left to do then was pick up the pieces. They dismissed their runes of speed in favor of runes of strength, which allowed them to quite easily lift the Sakarum carcass from their body. Once they were free of the pressure, they cast Chrysalis during meditation and regenerated all their wounds.
Once they'd collected themselves and properly recovered, they snapped off one of the creature's toes and stowed it in their mane for a later date, then gripped the Sakarum by its jaw and dragged it through the dirt on their way back to Kaer Jeger.
