《Berzerker》Big Ugly Round 2
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Torbin grumbled pretty hard as he and the other team members faded into view at the side of the arena.
“Merc, you have to put more distance between you and Big Ugly. Sonya had to get involved way too soon this time.”
“Certainly, Napoleon, had I but moved quicker, I could have bought her an entire additional second!” the bard retorted shortly.
“Iris, I thought you were going to upgrade your darts, make ’em long enough to get through his skin.”
“I did, but they’re Drilling Darts. They take time to burrow through and inject the poison. I can’t get Diamond Tip Darts to drop, and that’s what we really need. Without them, we need more time for the Drilling Darts to get through.”
“That was awesome!” Arron cheered, unable to contain his excitement. “The way you guys worked over those Blood Fiends was inspired. They didn’t stand a chance!”
Torbin and the group reluctantly nodded. “Aye, the mobs we can cover. It’s the big beasties we have issues with.”
“You mean the ogre? That thing was nasty. How the hell are you supposed to deal with something like that?”
“By dealing as much damage as possible before it can catch us,” Torbin replied. “It works… occasionally. Our problem is we’re specialized towards dealing damage over a wide area. Area of Effect stuff, making it great for groups of monsters like the Blood Fiends, but not quite enough to cap anything with higher Hit Points. I can do more single target damage, but I end up playing the healer too quickly. Same with Mercutio, but he ends up running to keep the big’un from crushing him with its club.”
Torbin put his hands on his hips and grinned. “We’re hoping that’s where you can come in.”
Arron’s raised eyebrow was all the response he got.
***
“Ladies and gentlemen, Torbin and gang are going to try yet again! Place your bets. How long will they last this time?”
The announcer’s overly cheerful voice grated at Arron’s nerves. His excitement clearly at watching the group get wrecked again.
“What a dick,” he muttered.
That brought a small smile from Sonya.
Little twitches started in his back, miniature explosions from the nerves he was feeling. The onlookers laughing and pointing at their group unsettled him.
Not that he had long to be concerned. Almost without warning, the iron grate opened, and a multitude of tiny blood-sucking fiends were flying his direction.
“Here. We. Go!” the announcer shouted.
“You dick, Guthrie!” Torbin shouted, rushing toward his place. “Positions!”
The group scrambled.
Arron gritted his teeth, readying himself. There were so many fiends! Were there this many last time?
He shoved his fear aside, and with a scream ran straight into the storm of wings and teeth, swinging Mule left and right, cutting through the cloud like windshield wipers.
This proved to be a mistake.
Almost immediately, he was covered in the devilish little creatures. The blood suckers hanging off his moving body with their sharp, needle-like claws buried in his skin. Blood flowed as they bit sections of his skin away, licking at the pooling blood with long, tentacle-like tongues.
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Arron spun, batting at the creatures, trying to dislodge them, even going so far as to hit himself with his hammer in an attempt to crush a few.
“Hey, creepy critters! Your Mother smelled of elderberries!” Mercutio yelled, drawing the attention of the swarm.
All at once, Arron was free and the creatures were flying toward the bard.
Arron stumbled a bit from blood loss, fighting to focus his spinning head as he returned to the party. He grunted when three darts hit him in the chest. Immediately the darts did their work, washing away the pain and fog over his mind.
“Boy, work with the team! You’re not solo, damn it!” Torbin shouted across the arena.
By the time he returned to his position, chiding himself for his lapse in judgment, Sonya was placing the “roof” on the wall structure, sending the sound of screaming fiends floating out across the arena floor.
“You ok?” Sonya asked with genuine concern.
“It doesn’t help to split the party, new guy,” Iris snipped, appearing out of nowhere. “Get it together.”
Arron nodded, chagrined.
Then the fun started. The Blood Ogre screamed from within the tunnel, roars echoing across the killing field. Its footsteps were fast and heavy in the bottom of Arron’s feet, eliciting a brief instinctual panic at the size of the thing he was about to fight.
And then it burst into the arena.
The ogre didn’t bother to slow as it exited the tunnel, its body bent over in a misshapen hunch, screaming at the group as it charged with its massive club dragging behind.
As before, Sonya attempted to create obstacles to slow the creature down. When that failed, Mercutio taunted the beast to buy the group some additional time. The ogre chased Mercutio and was nearly on top of him when Sonya started pummeling it with her damage spells. The torrent of ice slammed into the ogre, predictably drawing its attention.
Arron watched the fight unfold the same way it had before, unsure of where to participate.
He caught more than one glare from his team members while he stood back, uncertainty preventing him from helping.
The beast was so big! His breath nearly stopped as the ogre focused on Sonya, shrugging off another taunt by Mercutio. It smiled as it raised its club high overhead, and with all its considerable body weight, brought the dead tree down on the spot where Sonya stood.
This time though, the club hit empty earth.
Confused, the beast looked for the tell-tale smear that used to be a person in its weapons divot.
Arron smiled at the dirt-covered Sonya, mouthing, “I’m sorry.” He turned from where he’d pushed the mage, and took a deep breath, finally recognizing where he could be helpful, and joined the fight.
Running, Arron jumped into the air and kicked off the knee of the grotesque creature. Soaring up, he contorted his body, putting all his weight into a massive upward swing with Mule.
Time slowed as he felt the air rush by, the hunger within Mule calling to him, its desire for battle stirring something familiar deep within his guts.
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And oh the satisfaction when the head of the hammer connected with the blood ogre’s chin. Crack! Ecstasy.
The ogre stumbled back, shaking its head from the mighty blow. It scowled at Arron, letting loose a low rumble.
There was raw threat in that stare. A primal drive meant to drill into the opponent’s soul and weaken their resolve.
Except it was creating exultation in Arron, a growing readiness to meet that confrontation. He roared his own challenge, slapping the side of Mule’s head against his chest.
Arron’s voice boomed across the arena, an almost physical blow to those who heard it.
Adrenaline burned in his veins, his nerves singing as they became hyper-aware. His teammates and the ogre, all seemed to slow even further.
Red tinged his vision, not the crimson spots of injury, but the subtle hue shift of his Mindless Fury taking hold.
The ogre bent almost double, breaking into a run, head down, charging its new foe.
Arron welcomed the fight. His vision narrowed to only the ogre, and he lost focus on anything else in the world. There was only here and now. Him and his foe.
He found peace in his fury. Calm in the chaos. Nothing in the world mattered at this moment except killing this beast that had dared challenge him.
Arron leaped to the side and its massive club smashed the ground. Twisting his body, he swung Mule Near, managing to connect with the little finger on the ogre’s hand. The ogre’s bone turned to dust, a squelching crunch reverberating through the shaft of his hammer. Arron was rewarded with a pained scream and a happy buzz from Mule.
Smiling, Arron bared his teeth and swung again, ready to deliver more punishment.
But before the hammer could connect, the beast backhanded Arron, sending him flying across the arena into a wall of ice Sonya was magicking up.
“Hey!” Sonya shouted as Arron crashed through, ruining her work.
There was a pinch in his shoulder and he swept the small dart from Torbin out of his skin as he picked up his hammer and stalked towards the Blood Ogre, murder in his gait.
The two ran at each other again, the distant screams of his companions not registering to Arron.
The club swung high, blotting out the sun as Arron rolled to the side at the last minute. He sprung left as a massive fist crushed the ground beside him and then screamed as he brought the head of Mule Near directly into the cap of the ogre’s knee.
A crack like a red oak snapping echoed through the arena as the ogre’s kneecap shattered. The strange deformation was evident under the skin of the screaming beast as it stumbled to take the weight off its injured smaller leg.
Turning the hammer, Arron slammed the wedge-side with all his strength into the tendon behind the Ogre’s ankle. The skin bunched sickeningly as the tendon split.
The ogre fell backward, crashing to the ground, randomly sweeping its club sideways. It connected with Arron and launched him fifty feet through the air before slamming into the area floor.
Blood dripped from his mouth, the red tinge to his vision turning crimson in fury. Or was that injury? It didn’t matter.
He moved his left hand, trying to push himself off the ground, and found his arm hanging limp at his side. Using his other arm, he stood and picked up his hammer. Without thought for his injuries, he ran directly at the ogre, wielding Mule Near one-handed. He knocked aside a reaching hand by striking the wrist, crushing the joint to splinters.
And then he was standing on top of the beast’s chest. He swung his hammer over and over, connecting with cheeks, arms, neck, ears, and torso. Any exposed skin was a target, and the ogre wasn’t wearing any armor.
Over and over, he struck, the world around him fading into the background behind the blows, frustration, and the exorcism of his personal torments.
After several moments, a calm hand on his shoulder almost caused Arron to strike Sonya.
Stepping back, she raised her hands. “Hey, kiddo, we’re on the same team, remember?”
Arron stared for a minute, wildness in his eyes. She watched cautiously until his hyper-focus faded and he stepped back.
The ogre was a pulpy mess. An entire side of its face smashed in by what could only be a very stubborn person with a hammer.
“Did I do that?” Arron asked, coughing.
“Some of it,” Sonya smiled. “It was a team effort. You’ll find darts that were able to drill their way in far enough to work their magic in its calves, multiple gunshot wounds from Torbin, some burns from me, and some thrusts from Mercutio across that body. But you certainly kept its attention while we laid on the damage.”
“I didn’t even notice you guys.”
Sonya studied him for a moment. “No. I didn’t think you did.”
The rapid sound of footfalls drew everyone’s attention as Torbin came in at full speed, a massive smile across his face. “Yaaass!” The dwarf jumped through the air, tackling Arron with enough force to pull him horizontal before crashing to the ground with Torbin on top.
“Ah, boy, I could kiss ya!” Torbin yelled, shaking Arron’s shoulders rather violently. “Twenty-three times. Twenty-three times we’ve tried Big Ugly. We brought on a Shieldmaiden, a Shimin Samurai, two different knights, even a damn pirate! But you! We throw you in the mix, and he goes down first attempt? Did I say I could kiss ya, boy? Cause I could kiss ya!”
Laughing, the rest of the group shared congratulations, enjoying the victory of the moment.
“I believe this calls for food, does it not?” Mercutio asked, and everyone agreed to cash in the celebratory dinner the game awarded for defeating Big Ugly.
“What’s really exciting,” Mercutio mentioned as they made their way to the restaurant, “is now we can put these blossoming teamwork skills to actual work.”
“What do you mean?” Arron asked.
“I mean, baby boy, it’s time we descend into a dungeon and face its unholy perils!”
“A what?”
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