Grand Game 095: A Romp in the Forest (Patreon)

Day Two. Night.

After another long pause, I turned around and followed in the players’ wake. Like the two bounty hunters I had encountered before, this group was also afraid of the dark and kept their torches burning.

They were in a hurry, too, scrambling through the forests on a southerly heading. But for all that, the players moved in a well-knit and coordinated unit that scanned the surroundings constantly. Still, their lack of night vision made it easy for me to track them undetected.

Multiple hostile entities have failed to detect you! Your sneaking has increased to level 45.

I followed the party closely through the forest, even while remaining uncertain of my own intent.

Considering the matter further. I realized that even though the players bore Dark Marks, there was no reason to believe they belonged to the Awakened Dead or owed allegiance to Erebus or any of his ilk. After all, I was also Dark-marked.

Still, I didn’t think the group would be well disposed to me. They might not be bounty hunters out to claim my scalp, but I could not afford to think kindly of them. Revealing my presence would not be wise.

A roar shook the forest. Below me, the player squad froze in place.

“What was that?” one of them whispered fearfully.

I, too, stiffened. The sound was familiar. It was from the same sort of creature that I’d encountered yesterday. “Rhomodillo,” I whispered.

The roar sounded again, much closer this time.

“Ready yourself,” the half-orc, Ultack barked. “Whatever it is, we are not going to outrun it.” The players unhooked their weapons. Four of them wore shields and carried axes or spears.

Another four were archers, and they withdrew to the center of the party’s formation. Two raised staffs. Mages. Cecilia was one of them.

Ultack glanced over his shoulder at his commander. “We’ll hold it,” he said. “Whatever it is. You and Sora damage it.”

Cecilia jerked her head once in acknowledgment. Another roar split the air. This time, from the edges of the clearing.

The rhomodillo had shown itself.

I was in a tree directly overhead the party, and for the second time in as many days, I got a close look at one of the brutish-looking creatures. Snorting in fury and pounding its forelegs against the ground was a beast as large as the wyvern had been, only stockier. Heavy black plates covered nearly every inch of its skin, and its horn, pointing upwards in threat, glinted in the torchlight.

I frowned. By all appearance, the rhomodillo was the same one I’d encountered yesterday.

Damnation, has it been following me all this time?

With a snort of disdain at the party arrayed against it, the beast thundered across the glade, its hooves trampling grass and vegetation underfoot.

To the players’ credit, they did not flee. Closing ranks, Ultack and the other fighters prepared to meet the creature’s charge.

They stand no chance, I thought, watching silently from above.

~~~

I’m not sure what spurred me to act.

Maybe it was the suspicion that the rhomodillo was following me. Perhaps it was knowing that the party stood no chance, or maybe it was that despite believing it unlikely, I still held out hope of befriending the players.

Whatever the case, I chose not to ignore their plight.

As the rhomodillo closed in on the fighters’ line, I dipped into the well of my consciousness and sent tendrils of psi racing towards the creature.

The beast was oblivious as I slipped into its mind. Superimposing my will over the rhomodillo, I forced my needs upon it.

A level 51 rhomodillo has passed a mental resistance check! You have failed to charm your target. Your mental intrusion has gone undetected!

I growled in frustration as my spell failed. I had only a split second to decide my next move: to intervene more directly and in a riskier fashion or leave the players to their fate.

Quelling my doubts, I raced forward along the tree bough and, gauging the rhomodillo’s speed, carefully dropped down.

My timing was impeccable.

A few yards before the beast crashed into the fighters, I landed on its back. Sensing my sudden weight, the creature dug its hooves into the ground and flung back its head.

It is going to try skewering me, I thought, eyeing the approach of its gleaming horn. But before the rhomodillo could stick me, I wrapped my hands around one of its hardened plates and cast stunning slap.

Psi coursed from my palm and directly into the creature, flooding its muscles and freezing it in place.

A rhomodillo has failed a physical resistance check! You have stunned your target for 1 second.

Locked motionless, the beast lost its stride, and its limbs collapsed beneath it. The impetus of the rhomodillo’s charge was not entirely spent however, and it slid headlong across the ground. Balancing atop the creature, I tried riding out the crash.

Unfortunately, a dead tree stump had other plans.

Midway to the line of fighters, the creature struck the wooden protrusion. Its body twisted, falling over. Realizing my danger, I flung myself free and escaped the overturning behemoth.

I hurtled through the air and towards the ground. With outstretched hands, I cushioned my fall and sprang back up a few feet from the dazed rhomodillo.

My gaze flew to the startled players. They stared at me, mouths agape. “Don’t just stand there!” I snapped. “Attack!”

Not waiting on their response, I turned back to my foe. The beast was lumbering back to its feet, shaking its head to clear it of the dirt and debris that coated its face.

I sprang forward, blade in hand.

I didn’t fancy facing the rhomodillo at close quarters once it recovered. I had to keep it on the back foot. Behind me, I heard the half-orc barking orders. I hope those aren’t to retreat, I thought in a moment of dark humor. Then I might just be in trouble.

Closing to attack range, I focused on the task at hand. The rhomodillo still hadn’t realized the danger.

Striking out with spider’s bite, I whacked the beast on the right leg.

Blade met hardened hide and skidded off, doing little more than scratching the beast’s armor. But I had expected that. Channeling stamina through the shortsword, I cast crippling blow. Energy gushed out of the blade’s tip and into my foe.

To no effect.

A rhomodillo has passed a physical resistance check! You have failed to cripple your target.

I bit off a curse.

The beast swung around to pin me with a glare. We were barely a foot apart, and I thought I saw joy spark in the creature’s beady eyes as it caught onto that fact.

With a snort of unmistakable delight, the rhomodillo charged. Lowering its head, it angled its horn to skewer me. I was not unprepared. Springing off my haunches, I leaped upwards—not to evade, but to attack.

Somersaulting mid-air, I land on my foe’s back again. A shudder rippled through the beast beneath me. I grinned. Didn’t expect that, did you? Before the rhomodillo could react, I slapped down my left hand.

You have stunned your target for 1 second.

I hissed in relief at the ability’s success. I’d been half-expecting another failure. Beneath me, the beast stuttered and sank. I rode it to the ground and renewed my stun.

The tread of soft footfalls across the grass caught my attention. The Dark players were approaching, albeit with an abundance of caution.

“Attack already!” I yelled, “It’s helpless, and I won’t be able to keep it pinned forever!”

Right on cue, the beast beneath me stirred.

Oh no, you don’t, I thought. Renewing my stun-lock, I shoved spider’s bite into the seams between the rhomodillo’s ridge plates and tried to pry one free.

I failed dismally.

God damn, is there no way to injure this beast? Stunning the beast anew, I tried to work my shortsword deeper.

“Here, let me,” a voice said from my rear. It was Ultack.

Taking his axe in a two-handed grip, the half-orc raised it up high before smashing it downward in a devastating blow. The axe edge hit the rhomodillo with a resounding screech but otherwise didn’t seem to fare any better than my shortsword.

I scowled up at the fighter. His blade had struck less than a few inches from my outstretched fingers.

The half-orc shrugged, “I didn’t hit you, did I?”

I had no response to that.

“Did it work?” he asked a beat later.

Ready to ignore the near-miss, I squinted at the rhomodillo’s hide and spotted a hairline crack. “It’s working,” I said. “Hit it again.”

The half-orc did so. His fellows joined him, and soon the group was striking rhythmically at the rhomodillo’s rear while I kept it stunned beneath me.

“Hurry,” I urged, watching my depleting psi pool.

More cracks appeared on the beast’s hide, but the fighters had yet to penetrate its armor. My psi was draining fast, and soon, I knew I would not be able to keep the behemoth contained. Ultack hit it once more, as did his companions.

Then they hit it again.

And again.

Eventually, a chunk of the rhomodillo’s armor broke free, but the moment had come too late, I feared. My psi was down to its last dregs.

You have failed to stun your target. Insufficient psi.

The beast trembled, then began to clamber to its feet. “Dammit,” I growled. “I can’t hold it anymore.” There was still one more thing I could do, though. Taking spider’s bite in a two-handed grip, I plunged its hilt deep into the vulnerable flesh beneath the destroyed chunk of hide.

You have critically injured a rhomodillo.

The beast roared and shook violently, tossing me airborne.

I was flung through the air and glimpsed the fighters beat a hasty retreat. Tucking in my limbs, I transformed my tumble into a controlled dive and rolled back to my feet as I hit the ground.

I took quick stock of the battle. Spider’s bite was still embedded in the rhomodillo, and the beast was laying into the closest fighter, its horn spearing deep into his torso as it gorged him.

Jalin has died.

I winced and drew my remaining blade. Ultack was reforming his fighters into a defensive line while from behind them, the four archers loosed their arrows at the rampaging beast. But the projectiles bounced off the creature’s armor and failed to do more than annoy it.

“Aim for the short sword, you idiots,” Cecilia ordered. “Its armor is impervious.” Lowering her own staff, the mage hurled a flaming missile at the beast. Her companion did the same, sending lightning crackling towards the creature.

Charged bolt and flaming dart struck the creature simultaneously. The rhomodillo grunted in surprise but appeared otherwise unaffected. The magical attacks had done little more than irritate it. Fixing its gaze on the two mages, the beast charged the fighters shielding them.

Blade in hand, I sprinted forward. Focusing on the other players, the rhomodillo had turned its back on me.

Now was my chance.

The beast crashed through Ultack’s hastily drawn up defensive line trampling two other players underfoot.

Timothy has died.

Saul has died.

In seconds, the pairs’ lives were snuffed out. Nor was the rhomodillo done yet. Before Ultack or any of his companions could intervene, the beast charged the mage, Sora, and pinned her against the tree with its single, sharpened horn.

Sora has died.

This thing is devilishly strong. In only a handful of seconds, the rhomodillo had killed four players—each with a single hit.

But the beast’s last attack, as devastating as it had been, had stemmed its rampage, if only temporarily. Leaping forward, I activated one-step midair and, kicking off again, landed on the rhomodillo’s back.

Its horn was buried in the tree, and while it struggled to free itself, I plunged my second short sword next to spider’s bite.

You have critically injured a rhomodillo.

With a bellow of rage and pain, the beast freed itself, ripping a good chunk of tree in the process. Backflipping, I extricated myself from the creature as it swung around.

“Charging,” Ultack shouted and flew forward, straight at the snorting beast. My mouth dropped open on witnessing this display of amazingly stupid bravery. He’s a goner for sure. But to my surprise, when the two collided, it was the beast that faltered.

A rhomodillo has failed a physical resistance check! Ultack has stunned his target for 3 seconds.

“Now!” Cecilia yelled.

The remaining fighters rushed in, thrusting their blades into the beast. The mage herself plunged the tip of her staff into the vulnerable flesh exposed by Ultack earlier and sent fire coursing directly into the beast.

Three seconds was not a lot of time, but it must have felt like forever to the rhomodillo beset by fire and iron from surviving party members.

“Get back!” Ultack roared.

A moment later, burnt, dazed, and bleeding profusely, the beast shrugged off its stun and peered at the players surrounding it.

How is it still alive? I wondered.

Scanning the glade quickly, I spotted a short sword lying near one of the downed fighters. Gliding towards it, I picked it up.

Ultack stepped up beside me. “Can you stun it again?”

“No,” I paused. “Can you?”

“I can,” he muttered. “But I will be useless for much else thereafter.” His eyes narrowed as he studied me intently. “Make sure you finish it.”

I nodded.

With another roar, the half-orc charged, his form blurring as he activated his stun ability.

Ultack has stunned his target for 3 seconds.

Ignoring the rest of the group, I raced forward too. The other players were converged on the beast’s rear to plunge their own blades in while Cecilia burnt the creature again.

I, on the other hand, made straight for the rhomodillo’s face and, before the creature could recover from Ultack’s attack, plunged my sword into one of its eye sockets.

The blade went in without resistance.

I’d guessed right. The armor covering the beast’s eyelids was nowhere near as dense as that over the rest of its body. Pulling out my sword, I plunged it into the beast’s second eye.

You have permanently blinded a rhomodillo.

A rhomodillo is no longer stunned.

I completed my attack and leaped back as the beast’s paralysis expired, and it gave vent to its pain with an earsplitting scream.

Stumbling back to its feet, the beast swung about slowly. It was half-dead and blind to boot. But that did not stop it from charging.

“Get back.” Cecilia roared.

Her companions dashed out of the way as the rhomodillo crashed headlong into another tree. Dazed, it staggered back. It spun about, making no move to retreat, and hurled itself across the glade again, only to crash once more.

I retreated to the edge of the glade. To my mind, the battle was already over. Without its sight, the rhomodillo was too impaired to be of much threat, and it was only a matter of time before the beast died.

I eyed the surviving party members.

Now, only to wait and prepare for whatever comes next.