Orc, level 10

[Appraisal] called him an orc, but I didn't need any skill to tell me this was a monster. He had a distinctly pig-like head stuck onto a twisted humanoid body, curved tusks jutting out from his face and exhaling great clouds of mist into the cold winter air. His stomach was bulging, but his limbs were muscular. His feet were clawed, and he wore nothing except a loincloth. The skin was a greyish green, covered in welts and patches of bristles, and even from this distance the thing stank. His arms and hands were oversized, reaching down below his knees, and his right hand gripped a massive tree branch as if it were a club, twigs and leaves scraping along the floor.

Given how quickly he had caught up, I knew he was faster than me. From the way he was casually swinging around that tree branch, he was definitely stronger than me too. His claws were long enough that I was certain he could eviscerate me with one swipe. From his size and the thickness of his limbs, I was almost certain that I wouldn't be able to hit him hard enough with [Far Reach] to achieve any effect. This was not an opponent I should fight, yet with my movement restricted by the forest, [Far Step] wouldn't allow me to flee. Cluma had got away safely. That was the important thing. All I had to do was evade for ten minutes until reinforcements arrived.

He swung down at me with his branch and I threw myself to the side before running again towards a dense thicket of trees. I couldn't get too far away from where we were, since our reinforcements needed to find me, but in the denser forest my small size would work in my favour. The orc was thrown off balance by his swing, letting me put a little distance between us, but he would soon catch up again. I dodged between trees, and the orc followed. If only it had followed Cluma she could have outrun it and led it straight into our ex-delver guards, but alas he had decided to continue being my problem.

The trees were playing against the orc, but the undergrowth was more problematic to me. It dragged against me, tearing my clothing and scratching my skin while the orc stepped through it like it was grass. I was hoping for trees dense enough to block the orc, but luck was against me. I ran into a bramble patch, covered in vicious spikes, growing over my head height and extending in both directions. There was no way to run through it, and the orc caught up before I could run around it. I spun to face my opponent again, and this time I had nowhere to run.

Of the bits of my brain still capable of thinking about anything other than the two-and-a-half metre wall of muscle and death standing in front of me, most were screaming 'how is something like that here?' over and over. But there was one bit, one insane, foolhardy bit that was obviously tired of living, that insisted on pointing out that this monster was level ten and I was still rank one. Cluma had run away, and I was now solo. I met the requirements. Could I kill it?

I had full mana. I had my staff, and it was a good staff with metal reinforcements I'd made by combining [Basic Smithing] and [Basic Carpentry]. I'd lost some stamina from that run, but not a horrific amount; he had caught up too quickly. While telling myself that I wasn't really listening to the suicidal voice in my head, I argued that the best defence was a good offence; if I crippled a leg on this thing, I could run away safely.

All that thinking had cost me too much time and he was already on top of me, arm raised overhead and prepared to swing again. I stood no chance of parrying; that branch he was wielding could almost have been a tree trunk. I didn't need the trickle of knowledge and instinct from [Weapon Proficiency: Staff] to know that one strike would shatter my staff into splinters. Then here goes nothing...

I hit him with [Minor Slow] as he began his swing, stepping behind him with [Far Step], boosting myself with [Minor Strength] and swinging with all my strength into the back of his leg. There was a resounding crack, and hairline fractures spread along my staff where it had impacted. The Orc stumbled forwards, and not wanting to waste my half minute of boosted strength I spun around in time with the deflected movement of the staff in order to inflict a second blow. The orc was faster, reaching out a huge hand to pluck my staff from the air mid swing. My staff impacted on the hand with a second crack, and the topmost section snapped off. The splintered wood scraped along the hand, drawing blood.

The orc roared, swiping his branch sideways in a giant arc. I was still off balance from my interrupted staff swing, and my feet didn't have sufficient purchase on the ground for [Far Step]. Despite the orc still being slowed, I had no opportunity to dodge. I cast [Minor Endurance] and fell away from the strike to try to decrease our relative velocities, blocking with my left arm.

My consciousness flickered as I crashed back-first into a tree, but I forcibly held on. If I let myself get stunned, I'd die. My left arm was completely shattered and was hanging limply, leaving me to wield my staff with a single hand. Fortunately, I was right-handed. Unfortunately, the orc was charging towards me.

The orc hadn't got away uninjured. The cuts on his hand were superficial, but he was struggling to put weight on his damaged leg. I still had a few seconds of boosts left, so I added [Minor Dexterity] onto the pile and [Far Step]'d behind the orc for a second time. Unlike the slimes, this monster was not completely dumb and immediately turned, sweeping his branch horizontally again as he did so. This time I had good purchase on the ground and four more dexterity, and evaded by pointing [Far Step] straight up. The orc flinched as I appeared in front of his face, his weapon sweeping past far below me, and I stabbed the broken and splintered end of my staff directly into his right eye. He swiped me out of the air with his free hand, and despite blocking with my staff, I was again sent sailing into a tree, crashing painfully into it with my left side. Blood dribbled down my face, and my status informed me I was down to less than half my health. Accounting for what I would lose when [Minor Endurance] wore off, another few points of damage would be fatal.

This time the orc didn't immediately chase me. I'd done some good damage with that last attack, and the eye I pierced had been rendered useless. I hadn't been able to impale deeply behind the eye though, so aside from the partial blinding, the attack would have had little effect on his health. I should run... With his injured leg I could make it out of the forest, and even though I'd used more than half my mana I still had enough that I could use maximum range [Far Step] to put enough distance between us for Cluma's reinforcements to rescue me. I really should run...

I didn't. I refreshed [Minor Strength] and [Minor Slow], which had expired, and began [Far Step]. The orc was learning, but not quickly enough. That left me an opening; he spun around before I'd even landed, to no avail. I'd stepped in front of him this time. I swung my staff once more, targeting his injured leg and eliciting a pair of snaps. One was my staff, which had cracked in two. The other was his leg. He buckled and fell, the broken leg no longer able to support his weight. I saw bone pierce through his skin as he landed, blood starting to pool on the ground.

I used [Far Step] to get out of his range as he roared once more and swung his branch downwards. The impact of the branch on the ground caused him to lose his grip, but rather than reaching for it, he employed his hands to start pulling himself to his knees. I used [Far Step] to draw near once more, ramming the remaining section of my staff into his throat. The splinters scraped away his skin and drew blood, but the wound was shallow. He swiped a hand at me again and my attempt at evasion was too slow, sending my weapon from my grip and me rolling along the ground.

I dragged myself to my knees in a mirror of the orc moments before. Both remaining sections of my staff were out of my reach. I saw the orc reaching for a rock. If he threw that... I reached down to my waist for my final weapon, the one that had too much of a sentimental attachment for me to ever throw away. My first dagger, sharpened somewhat during my time helping Remous, but still unbalanced and misshapen. The orc grabbed the rock and turned to look at me, pulling back his arm and preparing to throw. I activated [Far Reach] and gently pushed my dagger into his wounded neck. The rock fell from his hand as he grasped at his throat, ripping out the dagger. A spurt of blood followed it, and the orc roared no longer, the only sound he was making now a gurgling choking.

I tried to pull myself back to my feet, but my legs seemed to have forgotten how to do their job. My left arm dangled limp and useless. My right arm seemed to work, but had lost all feeling. Blood was dripping into one eye, making it hard to see. My head was pounding. The side where I'd been struck was numb, and there were bubbling sounds coming from my lung that really didn't sound healthy. No doubt I had shattered ribs. I really should have run...

My status told me that my health was down to three points out of twenty, and it dropped to two as I watched. I only had a few more seconds of [Minor Endurance] left, and once it wore off I'd lose four points of health. Damn. I really really should have run. I had enough mana left for one more cast; forty seconds more to live, assuming I didn't finish bleeding out into my own chest cavity first. I fell to the ground and fired off my final [Minor Endurance] taking me down to barely more than one point of mana. My low health, stamina and mana dragged at my consciousness, and the world faded to black. The last thing I saw with my failing vision was the orc falling too. Our fight was a draw then. Thank goodness Cluma escaped, but please don't end up as full of regret over this as your father...

Angus POV

"Angus! Grab a weapon and get out here!"

Why? What good would I do? Warren would be better off going on his own. But regardless of what I thought, his voice sounded urgent and my body reacted on its own whether I wanted it to or not. Apparently some of my old training had yet to wear off, and I found myself outside, a dagger in hand. I didn't have my armour or my usual bow. I wasn't even sure where they were any more, and nor did I care. I never wanted to use them, to even see them again. All I wanted was to go to sleep and never wake up. But these villagers were nice and had made us feel welcome. Even someone as useless as me... I should at least pay them back a little. Warren was already running ahead, so I chased after him.

We didn't have much to go on. Peter was fighting a 'giant monster'. A kornakouneli? They could be aggressive, but from what I'd seen of Peter he could handle one bare handed, and it wouldn't qualify as 'giant' either. A saliazo would be bigger, but the only danger one of those would pose would be drowning someone in slobber. Certainly Cluma wouldn't have charged into our house so distraught. She sounded like she thought Peter was dying out here. Some sort of monster? But monsters didn't come out of nowhere. Even if another mana field had appeared, it shouldn't have been possible for him to run into anything dangerous. At least, nothing he couldn't escape from.

As well as not knowing what exactly had happened to Peter, we also had little idea as to where. The forest was a big place. As we got closer, I was able to use my [Tracking] skill to follow Cluma's trail into what was hopefully the correct section of woodlands, but as we got further in my confidence wavered. If a fight was going on nearby, we should be able to hear something, but it was silent. Did I get it wrong? Is my uselessness going to get Peter killed now, too?

"Over there! Look at the branch!"

Warren was pointing at a tree a distance away, outside of my [Tracking] range. Running over, my skill picked up a gouge in the ground; some sort of large and heavy impact. It wasn't just the one broken branch either; there were many. Something big had come through here, over two metres tall. Then my skill picked up the footprints.

"Orc!"

Warren's eyes opened wide in surprise, and I agreed with him, but there was no doubt that it was true. However inept I may be, my skill wasn't that bad. I knew the footprints of an orc. I knew the smell of an orc too, and now that I know what to look for, I could detect the faint but disgusting scent on the air. I ran onwards again, easily following the trail of destruction that was far more obvious than Cluma's light footprints had been.

There was another scent on the air too, one that got stronger the further we ran. Blood. But there was still no noise. If there was an orc here, we would know; orcs and stealth are not two words one would typically associate together. We ran into a patch of flattened ground and broken wood, and the smells got stronger. Both of them. I saw the orc first, lying unmoving in a pool of its own blood.

"PETER!"

Warren was running over to a much smaller but equally unmoving body. His whole left side was caved inwards and his left arm was curved in a way that made it clear the bones inside had been completely shattered. His skin was deathly pale and his lips were blue. Laying there, he looked more like a broken doll than a human. So we were too late after all... Once again, I've proven myself useless and let someone I was supposed to be protecting die.

Warren drew out a potion and forced it into Peter's mouth, as if that would do any good. I could see from here that he wasn't breathing, and no potion would work on the dead. Warren could keep his fool's hope; I'd take care of the other side. The orc, still clinging to life, gurgling quietly as bubbles escaped the hole in its throat. I plunged my dagger into the wound and tore a deep gash through its throat and neck. The motionless orc didn't even twitch as the last of its blood drained and the gurgling came to a stop.