Fight, Fight, Fight

August 25, 2014

Jack struggled up the steep boulder covered mountain, as the war cries of the Ripperkah grew closer. Looking back, he saw that over a dozen of the corrupted natives followed in his wake. As before, they adorned themselves with red feathers and scarlet tattoos.

In another situation, Jack could have felt remorse for what he would be forced to do. This was their lands, hell this wasn’t even his world, but the Xemmoni were a foul curse and Darkened the souls, as well as the minds, of the minions they infected with their evil. Jack had no doubt that friendlier tribes would be beyond pleased by every kill he could make against these demon lovers. That is, if these Ripperkah hadn’t already killed all the other tribes off.

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Gazing ahead, he saw what he’d been searching for. With a grunt he tried to increase his pace. They still gained on him.

Thirty feet of cliff still separated him from the thick cluster of trees that grew around the stream he followed. On the other side of that clearing the canyon rose into a steep cliff. “If I can just make that clearing…”

Upon reaching the base of the thirty foot cliff, Jack turned and readied his looted javelin. To a man, the Ripperkah used their Rapidity bestow, which increased their speeds two or three fold. A young Ripperkah wearing some type of lizard skull over his head can into view not fifty feet before him. His reward for being the leader of the pack was becoming the first to die. The Javelin hit him in the center of the chest. The man lost balance and went toppling over backwards to land on the sharp stones forty feet below.

Jack hated to part with the spear he worked so hard to make, but knew holding it would slow his climb, so he lunched it at another one of them. He cursed when the man’s increased speed allowed him to duck under it.

Strings of curses continued to erupt from his lips as he set himself to climbing. He had only made it halfway up when weapons began to clatter around him. Everything from flint napped spear heads, to obsidian hand axes collided with the stone face he climbed. A few weapons connected with him, but failed to penetrate his protection afforded by Yig. A large stone encrusted club smacked him on the back of the head and when a javelin pierced his thigh, it became all he could do to just hold on.

Somehow he made it up to the clearing between the cliffs. Pausing only long enough to draw the javelin from his leg, he sprinted as fast as his wounds would allow to the other side of the clearing.

Once there, he readied his javelin, but held off. The evil warriors came over the lip of rock like a manic red wave. He counted thirteen of them. A well tossed javelin made it a dozen.

They screamed in anger and charged him, but he was ready.

With a silent command, Jack used the powers of Yig to make the forest come alive. Animated trees clawed and clutched at the Xemmoni. Some received long lacerations, while others were grabbed and then tossed back over the cliff.

But Jack wasn’t done. Even though he felt his Ki quickly draining from him, he burned through his mystic strength to have the earth itself aid him. The ground spread creating pits where there were none. Rocks toppled off the sides of the cliffs that lined the clearing.

Once the process had started, Jack grabbed his throwing knives and added to the chaos with well placed shots. He quickly went through his five steel daggers, but then threw the three obsidian daggers he had collected earlier.

Only five had survived the mystic assault of the Earth and Jack had dropped two of these with his daggers. Of the remainders, one still charged him, while the last two lingered on the other side of the churning ground, appearing more uncertain.

With a loud scream, the nearest one charged him. The man fought with a large obsidian encrusted club in each hand.

Jack had drawn his steel hand axe and long war dagger and engaged the man. He blocked the first swing with his axe. He drove in and took a hard blow to the back, but again survived it with the help of Yig’s protection. The Ripperkah had no such defenses and his dagger took him in the guts.

The Xemmoni screamed in anger, but this quickly changed to pain, when Jack drew the dagger through him sideways. The Ripperkah stumbled and fell and in an act of mercy more than anything else, Jack’s axe split the back of his skull.

The other two Ripperkah looked his way and then took of running. They leapt from the cliff in wild abandon.

By the time he reached the cliff, it proved too late to stop them. “Looks like I may end up with even more company soon,” he grumbled.

He tried to heal himself, but found his mystic well all but dry. He was able to take the edge off his wounds, but little more. Still feeling stiff, he set himself to recovering his daggers and collecting weapons.

Against his better judgment, he wasted fifteen minutes retrieving his spear. He gathered up eight javelins and tossed them in a pile. Two of his throwing knives were gone, but he gathered up five good flint napped daggers. As the sun began to set he also found about twenty of their war clubs, which also went into a pile.

After drinking some more water he sat and allowed himself a moment to think. His eyes looked over the stacks of weapons and then lingered on the grove.

“Who knows how many more warriors these pukes have? If they’re like the Mayans that they appear to be, there could be hundreds lingering around in their jungle pyramids.” He looked up at the cliff face behind him. “I’d like to see if there are any friendly tribes around here, but the Rips going to expect me to run.”

Standing up, he continued, “Yep, they’re going to expect me to run, so screw them. I’m drawing the line in the sand and claiming this grove for Yig and may the All-Father Serpent have pity on the souls of anyone that tries to get me in here.”

 

To be continued next Monday

 

Find out how Jack’s Adventures Started Here!

 

 

 

 

The Whole World Versus Me

August 11, 2014

The sun cut through the haze he had grown so accustomed to and pressed down on Jack’s back like a living thing. How could it be that the higher I rise in elevation the hotter it seems to be getting, he mused, but then set himself to more vital tasks.

The prisoner before he had begun to moan and show sighs of regaining consciousness. Jack used some of the cords and belts from the man’s fallen comrades to bind his ankles and wrists. Then he set himself to go through the weapons.

 

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His own had grown thin, but he put his hand axe back into his shredded leather and counted his five throwing knives before the heat forced him to hang his jacket on a oak twisted into the shape of a crawling hand. He had retrieved his spear and found a thin javelin. These he placed these against the oak as well. Three obsidian daggers joined his throwing knives and he leaned three of the Ripperkah’s war clubs against the base of the tree. When he had finished, he turned and found the Ripperkah glaring at him.

“Don’t suppose you speak my language, huh?”

A string of spitting syllables thundered his way. The warrior’s eyes passed over his fallen allies weapons and the Xemmoni began to struggle against his bonds.

“I know these might be your lands and not mine, but I’m also willing to bet there could be decent folks around here that your kind preys upon.” Jack’s gaze took in the trees that rose up into the massive mountains. “Or at least I hope there are.”

“Yep, buddy, it may be your world, but finding Xemmoni here, Ripperkah no less can’t be-”
The sun cut through the haze he had grown so accustomed to and pressed down on Jack’s back like a living thing. How could it be that the higher I rise in elevation the hotter it seems to be getting, he mused, but then set himself to more vital tasks.

The prisoner before he had begun to moan and show sighs of regaining consciousness. Jack used some of the cords and belts from the man’s fallen comrades to bind his ankles and wrists. Then he set himself to go through the weapons.

His own had grown thin, but he put his hand axe back into his shredded leather and counted his five throwing knives before the heat forced him to hang his jacket on a oak twisted into the shape of a crawling hand. He had retrieved his spear and found a thin javelin. These he placed these against the oak as well. Three obsidian daggers joined his throwing knives and he leaned three of the Ripperkah’s war clubs against the base of the tree. When he had finished, he turned and found the Ripperkah glaring at him.

“Don’t suppose you speak my language, huh?”

A string of spitting syllables thundered his way. The warrior’s eyes passed over his fallen allies weapons and the Xemmoni began to struggle against his bonds.

“I know these might be your lands and not mine, but I’m also willing to bet there could be decent folks around here that your kind preys upon.” Jack’s gaze took in the trees that rose up into the massive mountains. “Or at least I hope there are.”

“Yep, buddy, it may be your world, but finding Xemmoni here, Ripperkah no less can’t be-”

 

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Jack’s dialog was cut off when the Xemmoni flung himself at the Stalwart. While Jack talked, it had grown sharp edged ridges of bone along the lower wrist of each hand. It had not only used these to free itself from his bonds, but intended to slice Jack’s throat open with them.

Jack backpedaled, while grabbed up one of the rock encrusted clubs. “I should have remembered you freaks can do that sort of thing.” He made a wild swing just to keep the Xemmoni at bay. “Pretty much impossible to tie up a Ripperkah.”

The Ripperkah’s bonish blades continued to grow until he had machete lengths of jagged grey protruding nearly a yard past his hands. These flashed and stabbed at him and one managed to score a deep wound on Jack’s left shoulder.

It was his turn to curse. “Hell, I don’t have time for this crap.” He kicked out and knocked one arm away. The other elongated bone trust at his face, but he turned his body to the sideways and then stepped in toward the Xemmoni. With a yell, the club came down with a two handed smash. The impact was so strong it did three things at once. The blow cracked the skull so loudly it echoed through the canyon, the club snapped in half, and the man’s head burst like a watermelon tossed from a roof.

Jack looked down at his gore splattered form while he just tried to catch his breath. “Man, those guys are pretty tough. If these woods are crawling with them, this might end up being all she wrote.”

With a sigh, he used a bit of his mystic strength to heal himself and began to collect his weapons. He hid the clubs under some leaves. He doubted he would even be back to retrieve them, but no sense in letting his enemy find extra weapons to use against him. The heat made him tie his jacket around his waist and he held his spear in his right hand, while the Javelin filled his left.

Using the spear and javelin to help him climb allowed him make better progress. He covered some ground, but the lack of water took its toil. He wondered again why none of the men he fought had so much as a canteen on them, but figured things couldn’t be that easy.

Every chance he got, he tried to survey the rising mountainside before him. He almost didn’t trust his eyes when he saw a thin sliver of silver cascading down the side of a moss covered cliff. Smiling to himself he hurried that way.

 

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Those last few hundred yards felt like the longest of his journey, but he reached a three foot wide stream and pledged his face into it. A chuckle escaped him as he poured handfuls over his burning brow and let it soak his hair.

After he had drunk his fill, he sat next to the stream. “Finally, well I see no reason not to just camp here tonight, I…”

Cries of anger erupted from the direction he had just traveled. Hoots and war cries quickly followed.
“Son of a bitch, talk about jinxing myself.” Looking up and the mountain that loomed above him, he continued, “Well, they want a fight, I say bring it on. If they never experienced fighting a servant of Yig in the middle of the forest, they are about to learn.”
To be continued next Monday

 

Find out how Jack’s Adventures Started Here!

 

Grey Woods

 

Speed Versus Steel

August 5, 2014

Four more of the red feathered Ripperkah tribesmen raced at Jack while undoubtedly cursing him in their native tongue. Jack started his assault by smashing the choking man, at his feet, in the side of the head with the butt of his spear, which proved enough to knock him unconscious.

The other four had raced within eighty feet of him, when he took aim with his spear. The taller one with the tattooed scarlet mohawk tried to dodge his throw, but Jack’s spear stayed true and drove deep into the man’s chest. He toppled over and didn’t look like he’d be getting back up.

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Jack grabbed up the unconscious man’s club and tossed it, but the big man in front batted it aside with his own war club.

The man to the left had a spear of his own and launched it at Jack.

Jack watched it arc toward him. He waited until the last second and then his arm lanced out and he snatched the feathered spear out of the air. He spared the remaining three warriors one last look and then took off running. He remembered too late that he had a thirty foot cliff behind him.

Turning, he sprinted to a cliff face to his left. It looked like it would be a difficult climb, but there was a ledge about ten feet over his head. He tossed the spear up onto the ledge and then scrambled up the loose stone as quickly as his feet would take him. A flung flint napped dagger took him in the shoulder, but only drew a trickle of blood.

He had just made it to the ledge when the Ripperkah reached the base. Their tattoos looked like ribbons of fresh blood and they shouted as the pack rushed up the short cliff.

 

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Jack had just gotten his feet under him when the first one’s head appeared over the lip of the ledge. His reward for winning that race was a spear plunged through his eye. He fell away with a scream, but Jack retained his spear.

The Stalwart tried to repeat his attack, but the next man ducked back down. While Jack moved into position for an overhead stab, the biggest Ripperkah gained the ledge. He turned to attack this Xemmoni with his spear and had the top two feet of it smashed away.
The man had a stone dagger in his left hand and only blocking with the remainder of his spear kept Jack from being disemboweled. Jack brought the thin spear around like a staff and smashed the man on the side of the neck, but this only produced a greater rage and his war club broke Jack’s spear in two.

The second man had gained the ledge behind him and Jack knew that keeping him at his back could be a fatal mistake so, without warning, he leapt off the ledge.

He hit the ground with a roll. The fall shocked his system, but he didn’t detect any serious injuries. Once on the ground, he took off running. He let his hand axe and a throwing dagger fill his hands as he sped away.

With manic yells, the pair leapt after him.

He turned and fired his hand axe as the smaller one. The Ripperkah was still recovering from his jump and it hit him in the cheek. The man stumbled back with a cry, but Jack had already thrown his knife at the man.

“Let me introduce you to something. It’s called steal!” Jack yelled as the knife spun toward the wounded man. It took him blade first in the neck and he tumbled back so far that the thirty foot cliff claimed him with a drawn out yell.

The biggest Ripperkah went berserk and threw his club at Jack. When Jack dodged to the side it only made the man angrier.

He drew two more throwing knives. “I’ll trade throws with you all day, if you like.” He launched the knives, but the man blocked one with his own knife and ducked under the second, which send it tumbling down the dry waterfall. “There goes another one.”

Spitting red anger, the last man charged him with his dagger in the murder position. He yelled a few phrases with included the word, “Herekcul,” which Jack guessed might have been the man’s name.

With a casual motion, Jack bent down and picked up and handful of dirt and sticks. As Herekcul rushed at him, he received this to his face. This stunned the man long enough for Jack to give him the meanest right hook he could muster to the side of his face. He quickly followed this with a left jab to the gut.

The Herekcul slashed forward with his knife, slicing through Jack’s leather, shirt, and then finally skin.

 

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Jack backpedalled while drawing his war dagger of Yig. “You want a knife fight so bad, I’ll be your huckleberry, you son of a bitch.”

Then Herekcul was everywhere at once. Cutting and slashing. His Rapidity spell burned faster than his comrades and Jack struggled to just stay ungutted. Even with his defensive fighting, he still received cuts and lacerations. He almost dropped his blade when the obsidian dagger slashed a deep line across his knuckles.

The Ripperkah had overextended himself for that last attack and underestimated Jack’s empty hand and he let him have a left hook to the stomach. This bent the Herekcul over and Jack punched forward to his dagger. The man dodged sideways but the hilt of the dagger still broke his nose with an audible snap.

The Herekcul stumbled backwards and it became his turn to fight defensively. He continued to backpedal until he reached the side of the dry waterfall and then leapt.

Jack hurried to the edge… but the man was gone.

He searched around, but there was no place to hide, let alone a way to survive the fall.

“Um, that can’t be good. Who knows how many other freaks like him he could have on my heels. Crap.”

Jack hurried to collect his and their weapons and make his way back to his prisoner, who was luckily still there. “Maybe I can learn something from this guy before the mountains are crawling with his kin.” Looking over his shoulder at the blazing sun, he said, “It looks like this is going to be a long day.”
To be continued next Monday

 

Find out how Jack’s Adventures Started Here!

 

 

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