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.
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