Yep, to my distress, the invitation was quickly accepted by both prisoners, and the rogue and beastling were already beginning to stalk toward us.

“Um, preferably one at a time,” I added, backing us away with my sword arm extended. “Is it ah… too late to add that to the small print? Heh.”

I glanced to the dwarf, who looked embarrassed.

-[ Your quest has been declined by S’kraag (Demon, level 6). ]-

I hastily turned to the demon in question. He had just finished closing down my (accidental) offer for him to kick the shit out of my noobish avatar and was shaking his head in disbelief. So, he’s even too lazy to rob the dwarf and his inept bodyguard, eh? Well, at least that was something to be thankful for.

“Um, help request to Mai?” I announced, clutching at straws. “Swordsnoob to help-file, come in, help-file.”

“No help files available down here, lad,” sighed the dwarf.

“You’re outclassed,” scoffed the rogue, as he moved into position to surround me. “If you’d put any base points into perception, you’d know that.”

“You can see my stats?” I gasped, shocked by the revelation.

The rogue stared at me for a moment, before finally declaring: “Fuck, what a noob.”

“What did you see?” asked the beastling, confirming that he did not possess this mysterious stat-reading ability.

“Pretty-boy has zero perception,” replied the rogue, with a laugh.

“Fucking hell,” responded the beastling, roaring with laughter. “Even I put two base points into perception. How does he expect to survive without the ability to read his opponents?”

I quickly realized that even the dwarf was looking at me like I was a fucking idiot. Dammit, so that explained perception, then. In hindsight, I probably should have asked Mai to explain it to me. My opponents knew more about me than I did about them, just by studying my avatar. It wasn’t a great position to be in before a fight, admittedly.

The dwarf began to assist me by reading off our enemy’s stats, but I was too distracted to pay attention. The creature was now lunging at me, and the fight was on. I’d put 2 base points into speed, but the beast was naturally gifted in that area, easily surpassing me. It closed the gap between us with a powerful swipe of its arm, tearing into my skin with its clawed fingertips before I could even raise my ridiculously weakened sword.

-[ Beastling’s claws cut you for -8HP damage. ]-

The beastling’s fingernails sliced into my soft face, missing one of my precious eyeballs by little more than a hair’s breadth. The bastard was trying to blind me. Wincing in pain, I swung on the balls of my feet and slashed wide with my paltry weapon. Luck, not skill guided my blade, willing it to graze the creature’s thigh. My attacker winced, momentarily halting his advance.

-[ You have cut the beastling attacker for -4HP damage. ]-

…chirped my status bot, as I returned to a defensive stance.

“-4HP? Is that it?” I protested, wiping my own blood from my eyes. “I did worse to the goblin guard when I shattered its nose, and I wasn’t even armed back then.”

The dwarf shrugged and ducked behind my legs, before reminding me: “keep an eye on that bloody rogue, lad. Sneaky kills are his specialty.”

I glanced to the rogue in question, but he was doing little more than standing back and observing the fight. Either he was waiting for the ideal moment to strike, or he considered himself to be redundant in what was already a badly lopsided contest. Neither possibility bode well for me.

Okay, I thought to myself, trying to think this through in what little breathing space I had. I spawned with 80HP, and this hairy bastard’s as freshly minted as I am. I gained a little XP helping the raid party, but for all I know, the beastling went through something similar, and his body has clearly been built to take more damage than mine. His claws lack the range of a sword, but ah… so does my sword, thanks to that damned shadow stallion. With that in mind, his superior reach almost makes us even. Except he has a rogue for backup, and I have an unarmed, combat-averse dwarf.

I came to a conclusion, which I promptly shared with my new employer.

“Samusk, I think we’re in serious trouble here.”

“No shit,” replied the dwarf, his gaze fixed firmly on the rogue.

The beastling put his hand to the paltry cut I’d dealt him, then raised his bloody fingers to his mouth, licking them clean. throughout this odd display, his gaze remained firmly locked on my avatar.

Creepy bastard, I thought to myself, raising my badly-damaged weapon as I got into a defensive stance.

Without warning the beastling lashed out again, claws flailing wildly. What he lacked in technique, he more than made up for in ferocity and power. But as I attempted to parry, I suddenly realized that I had one clear advantage in this scenario: the beastling’s inbuilt weapons were deadly, but the hands that wielded them were vulnerable. Unlike a swordfighter who can block with their sword as well as strike, the beastling couldn’t afford to parry, lest I sever his hand off at the wrist. With that in mind, I flailed just as wildly with what remained of my once impressive blade, fending off the ferocious beast’s strikes with a chaotic web of swordplay. He fell back, doing his best to avoid my flailing attack, and eventually, I got lucky…

-[ You have cut the beastling attacker for -6HP damage. ]-

The creature howled and flinched backward, grasping its bleeding wrist. I tried to press the advantage, rushing in to bury my blade in the creature’s gut, but stumbled as my attack was cut off by a burning sensation that erupted in my lower torso.

-[ Projectile stabs you for -14 damage. ]-

I cried out in pain. Projectile? Looking down at my bloodied tunic, I realized that the smirking bastard of a rogue had thrown his dagger at me, the hilt now protruding from just under my rib-cage. It burned like holy hell, and it was just the opening the beastling had needed. He pounced, throwing the entirety of his weight onto my avatar, knocking me to the ground and clawing wildly at my sword-arm.

-[ Beastling’s claws cut you for -7HP damage. ]-

I instinctively released my sword as a searing pain shot through my arm. The beastling capitalized, immediately swiping my weapon away, leaving me cursing my own stupidity for allowing my best hope for survival to slip from my grasp so easily. Then he smirked, drew back his other huge claw, and brought it down hard, opening up my vulnerable chest with a powerful, raking strike.

-[ Beastling’s claws cut you for -8HP damage. ]-

As my assailant’s weight pressed down upon me, I realized that this could no longer be classified as a fight. I was being mauled. Bleeding and wracked with pain, I tried to cover up my face with both arms. But my guard was easily broken by another slash of the creature’s claws.

-[ Beastling’s claws cut you for -7HP damage. ]-

I quietly cursed the fact that I’d put nothing into my defense stat. Of course, what use was flesh when it came to shielding against claws anyway. Crimson was now soaking into my tattered tunic from my chest and neck, blood trickling into my eyes from the gashes in my face, and a growing number of slash-marks riddled my defenseless body. Had I been able to reach my dagger, I’d have waited for the opportune moment, then jammed the blade deep into the bastard’s muscular neck. But purchasing the ankle strap hadn’t been enough to equip my secondary weapon. I still had to take the items from my inventory before I could use them, and there was no way in hell this thing was giving me time to access my inventory. Then it dawned on me. My purchased weapon wasn’t the only dagger I had access to. Desperate to fight back, I grasped for the assassin’s dagger that was still embedded deep in my flesh. Pulling it out would be risky, but doing nothing was much riskier. My hopes were dashed as the cocky bastard intercepted me, yanking the blade from my body and casually tossing it aside.

-[ Warning: You are now bleeding from an untreated dagger wound. This injury has a damage over time effect. -5 HP per minute. ]-

My gamble had failed, and my chances of reaching my healing herbs were non-existent. The beastling responsible smiled, no doubt privy to the same message, being the party responsible for opening the wound. Without words or warning he grabbed my wrists, pinning them to the stone floor with his not inconsiderable weight and strength. Then he leaned in, his tusks mere inches from my face, and mouthed two words that summed up my predicament: ‘you’re fucked.’

Dammit, I can’t afford to lose another level. But even if he doesn’t strike me again, I’m trapped. I’m going to bleed out.

I frantically scanned the chamber for options, my neck being the only limb that was still free to move. The assassin’s blade was close, but the dwarf that I’d hoped might retrieve it for me was not. In fact, he was as far from the fight as his chain would allow. Coward.

“About time you returned that,” scoffed the rogue, casually strolling into my view and pocketing the bloody dagger into his inventory. He was carrying the remains of my sword. “What, this?” he asked, following my gaze to the broken blade. “It’s badly damaged, true, but I’m sure we’ll get something for it.” Then he walked closer, stopping to crouch by my head, dangling the shattered weapon over my vulnerable head like the sword of Damocles waiting to drop. The beastling laughed, continuing to hold me in place. The bastards were toying with me, while my avatar slowly died. I couldn’t afford a five-year penalty. I needed to get my offense back, and fast.

One quick insinuation that my assailant got his looks from his mother’s dalliances with the local wildlife later, and my arms were free again. Of course, that was only because he had found a better use for his own appendages. The beastling roared, raining down a brutal succession of more conventional blows upon my stricken face.

-[ Beastling hits you for -5HP damage. ]-

-[ Beastling hits you for -5HP damage. ]-

-[ Beastling hits you for -4HP damage. ]-

The wild swinging blows were promptly followed by a look of smug satisfaction, as the beastling surveyed his bloody handiwork. I gave thanks for the small fact that I was still conscious. My resilience, like my strength stat, was impressive. For a noob at least. That was probably what was keeping me alive. That and the fact that his own noob-level claws were short, so the cuts weren’t penetrating deep enough to hit anything vital. But the dagger wound would soon take its toll. And the hits were building up. High resistance or not, I couldn’t take much more of this. I’d put next to nothing into unarmed combat, which meant freed arms or not, this still wasn’t a fight. It had gone from a mauling to a medieval mugging.

Without warning the beastling returned to his previous tactics, as yet another claw trailed across my skin, ripping open my tunic.

-[ Beastling’s claws cut you for -8HP damage. ]-

-[ Warning, HP count has fallen below 20% - Current level 14/80 ]-

There was blood everywhere. And to make matters worse, almost every damned speck of it was mine. I only had one chance. I had to take the bastard by surprise.

I picked my moment, waiting for him to draw back his claw, leaving his torso unguarded. Then I threw my strength into doubling myself forward, throwing my not-too-shabby strength points into a punch to the gut that winded the bastard.

-[ You have struck the beastling for -10HP damage. ]-

Not as impressive as the punch I gave the guard, but it was enough to get the job done. The beastling rolled off me, clutching its stomach, gasping for air. This was my chance.

The damage over time effect of the stab-wound claimed its first prize, taking me down to 9HP. But I ignored it, calling up my inventory. I finally had the breathing space I needed to access my healing herbs, but I knew I might not get this chance again, and I had to even the odds. So instead, I selected my dagger, clutching it in a downward motion, readying it to bring a violent end my distracted opponent. Without a moment’s hesitation, I made to pounce on my winded foe. But was aggressively jolted backwards, a metal choke-wire taking me by the throat and yanking me back to the floor with a thud.

-[ You are being choked. Secondary DOT effect initiated. 5HP penalty has increased to 10HP per minute for the duration of the attack. ]-

Two leather-clad legs were firmly wrapped around my torso from behind, and the wire was pressed hard into my neck.

Dammit. The rogue. And the sneaky fuck is living up to his name. I didn’t even hear him approach.

The dwarf cowered from what distance his chain would afford, as the rogue attempted to choke what little life I had left out of me. I forced myself back to my feet, an impressive act of strength and willpower, and drove the attacker into the nearest wall. But my new assailant was fresh to the battle, and he held fast.

Starved of oxygen, status message after status message rang out in my head, but I was beyond the ability to focus on the words they were desperately attempting to relay. Inevitably, my legs gave way. And for the third time since my sentence was passed, the world around me went dark.