Bacon Macleod
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Runeblade Chapter 10: Kiting
🕑 Added 2024-09-29 06:55:53 +0000 UTCFrom his vantage point Kaius was able to make out fifteen undead.
They milled around the hunting compound that was recessed into the cave wall. Some drifted from building to building, patrolling the area in some mockery of a lively camp. Others just stood there, swaying in place.
It was unnerving. The unnatural stillness with which they stood, unbroken by the micro-movements and twitches typical of the living. The way they burst into motion without warning, speed and power juxtaposed by a jerky and almost mechanical lack of grace. It set his teeth on edge. It looked wrong. Unnatural.
He hated the undead.
Fifteen would be the most amount of anything he had faced in single combat. He had skill and dexterity on his side, but it was still a lot of bodies.
At the very least they all seemed about as well armed as the patrolling party he had faced an hour or so earlier. Half rotted leather hunting gear, not even true armour, and a smattering of hatchets, axes, spears and knives.
Unnatural and disgusting they may be, the fact that they were undead would play in his favour. They would have nonexistent Endurance. No Health to regenerate wounds. His father had told him of great and terrible spirits of death who could heal with Mana. Not here though. Deep, far deeper than he would ever reach for years.
Strong, indefatigable, and immune to blows that would mean the end of anything with a heart beat. They were also dim, clumsy, and had no Health.
He could fight them defensively, utilising positioning, the environment, and superior coordination to whittle them down one by one.
Fifteen was still a lot of bodies. He gulped.
Kaius took a deep breath, quelling the nervous tension within him. Despite their numbers, he couldn't deny that the prospect of facing off against such a large group was as exciting as it was anxiety inducing. Plus the dangling carrot of the store house was too great to ignore.
There was something more than the promise of glory and loot that made the risk so enticing however. The pressure and push of facing so many foes at once would force him to the edge, he would have to capitalise on every single mistake the undead made.
The urge to merge his next legacy skill had been a constant buzz in the back of his mind. Every one he completed would make him just a little safer, give him another powerful tool to work with as he tried to survive in an environment he had no right to be in.
The battle ahead was sure to level Sense Weakness, in all likelihood more than once.
He needed that. Needed the edge his next legacy skill would bring him. Needed to start on the next one after that, that would bring him some much needed survivability.
Tightening his grip on his spear, his knuckles went white.
Kaius launched himself forward, pushing off a root and shoving the trunk he was hiding behind to bring himself up to full speed in a burst of acceleration.
The light brush standing between him and the end of the treeline whipped against his legs. Quickly forgetting the stinging mark of their passage as he bent his mind to the singular goal of closing the gap between himself and the closest of the wandering undead.
He brought the point of his spear up and level, turning his run into a charge.
Soft breeze covered his advance, the rustling of leaves enough to drown out his heavy breaths and the soft thumping of his feet on soil.
He was almost there.
Some of the undead, those who just so happened to be looking in his direction, had already noticed him. Ambling limbs readied glorified farm tools as they drew in his direction on stumbling. His target did not move. Too dimwitted to experience even vague curiosity at what had riled up its fellows. Kaius grinned, surging blood making his face grow hot.
The point of his spear rammed into the back of its head with the force of a charging bear, driving deep into its liquified brain. Black blood sprayed out as the undead was flung forwards from the force of the collision. The machete it held in its hand tumbled to the ground.
*Ding! level 12 Undead Scout slain*
Vibration shot through his spear and into his arms, stinging the palms of his hands. He was forced to plant his feet, sliding in the soft earth to arrest his charge.
Ripping his spear free from the body of the dead scout, he turned to face the rest of the undead, now well aware of his presence.
In an instant he assessed their composition. They were still spread out, those first few who had seen him only now just beginning to cross the courtyard between the lodges buildings. He still had time. Unfortunately, whatever mindlessness impeded the undead’s senses and cooperative abilities also seemed to make them impervious to surprise. They all just seemed to notice he was there, and then got ready to gut him where he stood without taking any time to think about it.
The closest to him was a trio who had been standing in the shadow of the smokehouse. One with a spear, One with a hatchet, and another with a knife.
Kaius was already moving, a burn settling into his legs as he launched off in a new direction. The spear-wielder tried to ward him off, waving its duplicate of his own weapon at him. He feinted a lunge, smiling as it reacted with a clumsy stab. Lashing out with his spear, he batted away the threatening point of the weapon. Committing to his riposte, his spear point sank into the undead's shoulder with a sickening crunch.
It tried to bring its spear around for a slash, but its shattered joint inhibited its motion, achieving nothing better than a slow, shaky, slide. Kaius pulled his spear free from the joint and pivoted on his front foot, stabbing out to catch the nearby undead knife-wielder full in the chest, utilising the lugs at the base of his spear point to shove it backwards.
Black blood sprayed from its chest as Kaius ripped his weapon free from the second undead. He whipped his spear back around to his first target, the leaf-like blade tearing a path through the spear-wielders quad.
It collapsed onto one knee.
While the knife holding undead was scrambling its way up from the ground, the last of the immediate undead charged at Kaius. Happily kicking over its ally that struggled to rise with a partially severed leg.
He stabbed its face. It parried. Pushing his spear point down with a savage chop of its hatchet. Moving with the strike instead of contesting it, Kaius stabbed the undead in the hip. Reverberations resonated up his spears haft as its point ground along bone, making a mess of the joint.
After he ripped his blade free, it took a slow haltering step forwards on its injured leg. Satisfied the wound had hampered it enough, Kaius lunged towards the one with the knife, who had almost fully recovered from their fall.
Organ damage or no, the blow to its chest hadn’t done much to slow it down.
His spear point punching through its undefended face solved that.
*Ding! level 14 Undead Huntsman slain*
The initial pack dead or disabled, Kaius looked up to survey the rest of the lodge.
The front runners of the remaining eleven were getting uncomfortably close, with the rest not far behind. He decided to fall back, unwilling to tangle with such a large group while leaving even crippled allies at his undefended back.
A few quick stabs left deep cuts on the remaining standing undead, nicking the muscle of its arms and hampering its movement. He would have liked to drop it where it stood, but it would take time to work his way through it’s guard.
Kaius jogged backwards, parallel to the cavern wall. Neither of the two still ‘living’ undead he had engaged were able to follow him, their damaged knee and hip hampering their movement.
He looked past them, focusing on the mob that rapidly reached where he had just been standing. The shambling staccato of their feet striking a discordant note with the strong and even beat of his heart hammering in his chest.
The leader of the pack held an axe. Taller than most, it struck an imposing figure. Kaius no longer feared them though, any anticipation he held as he watched from the treeline was washed away by the roaring rhythm in his blood and the savage joy of combat.
Kaius had gotten their measure now. Disgusting creatures they might be, but no real threat. Too clumsy. Too many openings.
The large undead reached him, a stumbling chop swinging wide and leaving it over extended with a simple back step. Sense Weakness screamed at him. A smooth step forward. A simple thrust.
Another spray of black blood. Another body crumpling where it stood.
*Ding! level 16 Undead Logger slain*
His compatriots quickly followed, mobbing him. Wild, uncontrolled swings were avoided with tight and efficient movements. Those he could not dodge, he pulled off centre with simple bats of his spear.
The undead’s numbers quickly began to work to their detriment, ungainly strength and dim witted minds turning the rabble into an unreasoning pit of aggression more than any cooperative fighting force. None tried to force him into a corner. None tried to attack in unison, or create openings for a fellow.
Kaius feinted, an undead with an axe taking a wild swing only to elbow a fellow undead holding a knife, sending it realing. A quick stab caught the flat footed undead, returning it to the embrace of true death.
*Ding! level 14 Undead Huntsman slain*
Kaius continued to back up, making use of the strip of open space that separated the vale from the edge of the cavern. “So mindlessly aggressive,” he thought to himself as a spear-wielder's botched swipe slapped an undead holding a machete, who had committed to a thrust at the wrong moment.
Unfortunately the blunder didn't leave either of them opening for a killing stroke. Too many of the mob still standing, a committed lunge would leave him far to open to a strike from their allies. It didn't, however, mean he did nothing. A light thrust scoring a line across the offending undead’s forearm, hopefully deep enough to hamper its grip.
His retreat from the mob was slow. Measured. All he had to do was wait. He had already seen so many openings. Sense Weakness remained silent, no more than a low level hum in the back of his mind. Too many opponents for him to capitalise on the failure of a single individual.
Still, his time would come. He just had to be patient.
Another avoided wild swing. The dance continued.
An axe wielder struck, its terminal arc ending with a violent crunch in one of its allies' knees as Kaius dodged the blow. The unfortunate undead pitched forward, mangled leg collapsing as it tried and failed to take another step. Sense Weakness twitched in the back of his mind.
Kaius’s leaf-shaped spear point arrested its fall.
*Ding! level 16 Undead Huntsman slain*
He stepped back, back burning as he wrenched his spear free in order to keep pace with the thinning crowd.
Looking to the tree line off to his right, he considered if it was worth it to dive into its embrace, before deciding against it. While his heart thumped, and his legs burned at his continual giving of ground, nothing had yet to turn against him.
Kaius took his time, allowing the uncoordinated mass of limbs and flesh that pursued him to work to its own destruction. False openings were seen through, as he trusted in Sense Weakness to lead him right. It wasn't perfect, he was sure if it was a higher level it might have been able to direct him to capitalise on more delicate openings instead of only the most obvious. It was still enough to stop him falling into a trap.
Steadily he whittled away at the small horde of undead. A tangle of limbs here, a wild swing shoving another out of position there, at one point one enterprising undead even managed to bury its hatchet in one of its compatriots foreheads.
It wasn't easy, not by a long shot. A quick glance at his resources showed his stamina was getting uncomfortably low, closing in on half full. His legs burned something else, unused as he was to an extended jog backwards while fending off infernal corpses. The scavenged spear was also looking worse for wear, its once stout haft ragged with chips and deep scratches from warding off blows.
Finally, when there were only three left, he received the first of the notifications he had been waiting for.
*Ding! Sense Weakness has reached level 19!*
“Took long enough!” He thought as a grin split his sweat streaked face.
