Congratulations! You have chosen the Path of the Sword Sage! May your decision bring you weal and deal woe to your enemies!

What did that mean? More importantly, what was I supposed to do now?

Paol! Attack now!

“But…”

Now!

Veritas’s tone brooked no argument, and indeed Scar-face was on the verge of pounding Rose into the ground. Ignoring the pain in my chest, I raced across the field to her defense.

Congratulations! You have learned the skill Pain Endurance. Level 1.

As always when I used Flashpoint, the movements of everything around me seemed to slow. I saw the huge troll smash Rose’s shield once more with her sword, and the shield finally gave way and broke in two with a loud crack. Rose lay stunned, holding her arm, as the troll raised the sword for a final strike.

Six inches in front of her face, I parried the blow and sent it careening to the side. The troll snarled and recovered, swinging at me. The blow had all of the monster’s strength behind it, and I knew I’d never be able to parry the attack so I leaped backwards. The blade whooshed through the air close enough to rip the leather over my chest, but I was unharmed.

I counterattacked and struck the beast in its side.

You hit Troll for 72 damage. Troll is bleeding and will lose 5 hp/min until the wound has been bandaged or healed.

What? How had I done so much damage?

The creature recklessly swung at me again, roaring in pain. Once again I dodged backwards and used the seconds afforded me by the Troll’s momentary lack of control by stabbing the creature deep in its abdomen, almost to the hilt. When I withdrew Veritas from its body, green blood spewed forth violently from the wound and then slowed as its self-healing began to close the cut.

The troll spat, and green blood sprayed from its mouth. I must have hit a lung with that last thrust.

The beast glared and pointed its sword at me before leaping forward in an attempt to spit me on the blade. I dodged to the side automatically and its motion missed me by a hair.

My eyes narrowed. I couldn't do this. It was huge but also fast. I was barely dodging its attacks. I knew this was a creature too powerful for me ot defeat. What could I do to it? How could something so big be so quick? The only way I could--suddenly, I felt a strange draining sensation. Somehow I knew that my stamina was dropping madly. I could feel it in my body. What was happening?

The world slowed down to a crawl.

I watched the sword float lazily by and saw the Troll’s arm muscles clench as it began to arrest the swing in preparation for another strike. My eyes flicked down. The muscles of his right leg relaxed and then tensed, and I knew he was about to take a step forward. I could see his weight shifting. To my left I heard a hissing sound, and I was sure that another of Amelia’s arrows was flying towards us. The Troll’s chest leaned forward as his center of gravity shifted. I felt a pearl of sweat roll unhurriedly down my temple.

The arrow would arrive...there...in the Troll’s arm--where it would do nothing, like all of the other arrows that sprouted like a pincushion from its body. My gaze fell upon its neck which seemed to glow in my sight, and somehow I knew that the skin there was one of its vulnerable spots. I calculated that if I could move the Troll two inches forward and three inches down, the arrow would strike it in the neck.

Even my own motions seemed calm and sedate, as if moving through water, and I marveled that I could feel when each individual muscle in my body clenched and unclenched as I shifted my blade and swept it at the Troll’s leading leg while ducking down into a roll that would take me under its sword and to the right. Veritas gingerly slipped through the Troll’s ankle tendon, and the creature found itself suddenly falling forward as its leg collapsed underneath it.

You hit Troll for 24 damage. Troll has been hamstrung. Movement slowed by 50% until wound has healed.

Amelia’s arrow pierced its throat and sank in for half its length. I saw the monster choke and grab for the shaft to pull it out. Coming out of my roll I flung myself forward and reached with the tip of my sword, and Veritas clipped the middle of the arrow’s shaft. The arrow was cut right where it exited the Troll’s neck. Half of its length fell to the ground and the other half remained in the Troll’s throat.

Scar-face tried to growl but only managed to cough. I glanced down and saw that his hamstring was already beginning to heal, but he made no effort to stand. Instead he scrabbled desperately at his throat, trying to pull the arrow out. His thick fingers were unable to grip the small remainder of the arrow’s shaft that still lodged in its neck--like a splinter that’s so small that you can’t grab it with your fingernails, and then I saw his neck wound close up. Half an arrow was still inside.

Coughing again, he scratched and dug at his neck. With his immense regenerative abilities, the wound was no danger to him, but how easy could it be to ignore a sharp stick blocking your throat?

Apparently, impossible to ignore.

The monster rolled around and around, scratching at its throat while coughing and hacking. It had completely lost interest in us, unable to make itself do anything but claw at the arrow shaft that it was unable to reach.

The world sped up, and I staggered to my knees. I was so TIRED. I felt I barely had the strength to move. Glancing at my HUD, I saw that I had only 1 point left in my stamina. I had drained my body to its limit. How had I done that? Was this how Sword Sages fought? If so, I had made a mistake. Being unbeatable for a few seconds and then collapsing from fatigue was not a good trade-off.

Veritas had a lot of explaining to do.

I saw boots in front of my eyes and looked up to see Rose standing before me with blade in hand. She held her left arm close to her body, and I could see that it was not straight. Features pinched white with pain, she motioned toward the Troll with her sword.

“Help me kill it. I’ll immobilize the head. You cut it off.”

I nodded wearily and pulled myself up. The monster was still rolling around, scratching at its neck and spitting and coughing. Stupid creature. It should have gotten a knife and cut the thing out of its throat. After all, it could easily regenerate from the wound.

We stood across from each other with the Troll’s head between us. Rose’s eyes narrowed and then with a sudden thrust downwards she stabbed her sword one-handed straight through the monster’s eye and out the back of its head, pinning it to the ground.

“Hurry!” she ground out as the Troll stopped grabbing its throat and reached for the blade sticking out of its head.

Amazed that the creature’s regenerative abilities kept it alive even with such an incredible head wound, I lifted Veritas high above my head with both hands and mentally asked her for fire. She lit up with an intense flame, and I felt the heat of it beat against my cheek as I swung her down like an axe.

Cutting easily through the Troll’s forearm like a piece of soft bread, Veritas continued inevitably down and through the Troll’s neck. That monstrous green head detached from its grotesque body, and Rose immediately flicked her sword so that the head flipped off of it and rolled away.

You strike incapaciated Level 21 Troll Brute with a Death Blow. Instant Death! Troll Brute has been defeated! You gain 15000 experience!

The battle was over.

I knew I should get up and see to the injured men on the ground, but it was difficult even to move. My stamina was at zero and was blinking red. I didn’t know what that meant, but it couldn’t be good.

Amelia hurried by me pulling bandages from a pouch at her side and knelt next to Barnabas. Her red locks swung freely down the opposite side of her face, and I saw her expression in focused concentration as she examined the poor man’s wounds.

Rose simply sat on the ground, gingerly holding her injured arm

Clara made her way slowly across my vision. She looked a little green and sickly, but she had no physical wounds. She also pulled some bandages from a bag and approached one of Duke Benedict’s fallen warriors.

I wondered how many of them were dead.

Where was Rafe? He had left with Amelia. She was here, but there was no sign of him.

“Amelia,” I called. “Where is Rafe?”

“Still scouting,” she answered. “A large body of creatures is gathered deeper in the forest. Monsters. He sent me back to warn everyone while he determined their composition and numbers.”

“You need to get him,” I said hoarsely. “We have too many wounded. We need his help to get everyone out of here.”

She nodded grimly. “Aye, just let me finish--”

The red-headed archer went flying through the air and landed on the ground with a thump and a moan.

Emerging from the edge of the camp was a tall woman with dark brown skin, jet black hair, and a necklace of small skulls draped around her neck and across her chest. A troll stood at either side of her, armed with huge iron maces. These beasts were even larger than the ones we had just fought, standing a head taller than Scar-face.

Appraise.

Troll Chieftain. ???

Human. ???

Was this skill ever going to be any good to me?

The woman swept forward, one elegant black eyebrow crooked in amusement.

“Well well well. What do we have here? I was told this forest was empty except for the odd woodsman or hamlet.”

Pale but determined, Clara clenched her fists and stood tall with her back straight and her hair flapping in the breeze. It would have been more impressive if the petite woman’s head had been able to reach higher than the trolls’ groins.

She opened her mouth to speak and then gasped.

The skull-adorned woman had gestured with one hand. Clara rose three feet in the air. Her feet wagged furiously as if reaching for something to stand on while she grabbed at her throat in an ironic imitation of Scar-face before we killed him.

“I sense that you were about to say something foolish and brave, so I’ll give you time to think carefully and choose your words more wisely.”

The woman lowered her hand, but Clara remained floating in the air, turning red and clutching at her neck. My stamina inched upwards, and I was starting to feel merely incredibly fatigued instead of completely incapacitated.

Amelia looked to be unconscious, Clara was choking, and Rose was cradling her broken arm. Everyone else was prone on the ground either dead or unconscious. With a groan I pulled myself up on one knee and then stood up. I wobbled but managed not to black out.

The strange woman tilted her head at me as if to say, “Yes?”

“First,” I said, “could you please let her down? She’s choking to death.”

I gestured at Clara.

Her eyes met mine and then she smiled. Her smile was quite charming, and in different circumstances I might have wanted to get to know her better. The grinning skulls around her neck kind of ruined the image.

“Well, since you asked nicely,” she said airily before flicking a finger.

Clara fell to the ground in a heap, gasping for air but glaring at the intruder.

“Now, how about you tell me who you are and what you’re doing here?” she asked sweetly.

No one else said anything, so I began haltingly, “Well, that is, we’re a band of mercenaries, and, uh, we were just--”

She laughed, and the sound was light and fresh and full of joy. Her words however…

“How cute. You’re trying to lie to me! Deceit is a wiser course to take than direct challenge--such as your foolish friend was about to do--when facing someone so much more powerful, but in order to be successful, you have to actually be good at deceit.”

She clenched her fist and pain blasted through me, pain unlike anything I had ever felt before. It permeated my entire body, agonizing and debilitating. I felt every single muscle arch and twist. I had lost complete control of my body, and I could only hope that I didn’t befoul my clothes.

All of a sudden the pain was gone. I lay shivering on the ground. Sweat poured off my brow, and my body was curled up and shaking in remembered torment.

The woman sighed. “Well, I guess I’ll have to display good manners first. I’ll tell you my name, and then you all will tell me yours.”

She smiled wide, and this time her smile wasn’t charming. Not even a little.

“My name is Kali.”

That meant nothing to me, but I saw Clara begin to shake.