Landing on the wizard wasn’t the challenging part. It was making sure I didn’t get pulled underneath her as I dragged her down to the ground, my blades digging deep into her shoulders. She barely had the breath in her to yelp, but she groaned as I braced my legs against her front and yanked the blades out. I reversed one blade for throwing, and quickly stabbed her again in her eye with the other. That was all the time I could spare as I darted toward Justin.
The two wizards ahead were both turning, and I hoped the confusion of seeing three, bright, and opaque guidance screens, stacked vertically, would confuse them. I could see them just barely through the slit in the two lower ones, and threw my dagger at the closest one, who staggered back and into the right hand side alley next to Justin.
The leader was quick with a shouted word and a spray of sharp ice blasted towards me, most of them aimed above my head. I felt blood trickle down my face and my health, according to my status guide in my face, dropped twenty-four hit points.
I threw myself into the lead mage. Most university spellcasters were not nearly as dangerous as Justin would have been at melee range with his nigh supernatural agility and hand-to-hand stat.
The wizard boweled over, and my blade scrambled for purchase through the robes. My free hand clawed for his face or his collar, whichever I could manage first. He fell hard against the ground and my blade finally found purchase somewhere around his gut, and he made a feeble mewling noise.
Several impacts of pure pain threw me off the leader, and I rolled forward to my feet and turned. The second mage had already pulled my dagger out of his thick robe. I noticed only now that the robe was studded with metal and lined with leather. A war mage was not what I needed right now. I leapt over the wizard pawing at the blade I left in his gut and pulled my short sword.
I sprinted as the warmage made a few motions. I advanced through the sudden blast fire, holding my cloak before me with my free hand. I’d have blisters on my arm. Assuming I lived. Some of the fire brushed Justin’s back and he said something I had no time to interpret.
With a few quick motions I arranged my guidance screens horizontally, so that the wizard wouldn’t be able to see my blade until the last, both of us glaring at one another in the shadows cast by the globe of light still floating behind me.
I thrust with my blade and his right hand raised in an open palm. A barely visible shimmering barrier deflected my blade as his other hand thrust forward as more flame burst forward. I fell nearly to the grimy alley floor. The flames ran across my back, and I could feel my feathered crown catch flame. My vision was growing blurry with tears and pain. I reached through where my health was listed - thirty health left and dropping - and grabbed his extended wrist.
The look on the mage’s face said he wasn’t expecting me to grab him. I half yanked myself inside his guard and half pulled him down to me. My short sword wasn’t finding purchase in his robes and his free hand quickly began to make new motions. Without options I opened my mouth and bit his hand, as hard as I could.
The base of my skull, where my feathers met my spine, felt like it was being sawn at with a cheap blade. I was losing track of who’s hands were where and what was happening as we fell together in a heap. I kicked and clawed and stabbed, while the mage seemed to be trying to stifle screams with half finished spell words. My stamina drained steadily as I pushed beyond the limits of my strength. It would end any second, but I could no longer see anything but blood and robes.
My shortsword hand was suddenly wet and slippery, and I renewed my focus there, vigorously wriggling the blade back and forth as I could manage. The war mage gasped, and my face was coated with more blood. He shuddered still. After another few seconds, I vaguely remembered I didn’t need to claw and bite at a dead body.
I lay there on top of him for a moment, silence in the alley but for some small moans of someone nearby. I ached, my whole body buzzing with reactionary pain from all the burns. Blood dribbled into one eye from a wound I couldn’t recall recieving. Was it from the ice shards?
I don’t know how long that moment was. But at some point, I recognized a whisper of a voice. “Scaleen? Scaleen, are you okay?”
I lifted my head and keened a bit, the battle furor no longer masking all the pain. Slowly I gathered myself and shakily stood up.
“Scaleen?”
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I’d began, with renewed vigor and focus as my stamina slowly recovered, patting down the warmage, until I found a waist-pack. I cut it free. I sheathed my sword as I glanced into the pack. Vials labeled for spells, a coin purse, not what I was looking for. I stood and hobbled back towards the mage whom I’d partially gutted, still alive.
As I walked behind Justin - both arms still nearly shoulder deep into the wall, his face unable to turn and look at me - he pleaded, voice cracking, “Scaleen, please, talk to me.”
I ignored him, cautiously advancing on the mage who still had my other dagger wedged in his robes. It could be a ruse, all the same, but my Discern told me this was the earnest whimpers of a rich mage who had never been so close to the end of their life. He looked at me with fear and a glimmer of hope.
I growled very plainly, “How do I free Stormhallow.”
“What, who a- are you-”
I’d reached him and pressed one foot against his crotch, bare inches from where the dagger was sunken in. Leaning in, I shoved my bloodsoaked muzzle into his face. “How!”
The orb light from his spell washed our faces in painfully bright, white light, but it would do for my intent to coerce his help.
“Please, please don’t kill me. I- I’ll pay. I was just following or- orders.” Pain made him stutter. “I will tell you if you d-d-d-don’t kill me.”
It took all my effort not to kill him anyway. I was so angry, and never had I ever had such catharsis at hand. Everything hurt so much.
I spat the blood and saliva and bits of flesh onto his face. “I won’t kill you. How!”
His hand shook as he reached for a pocket inside his robes somewhere. He was taking too long and I shoved my claws into his robe, found a pocket with a button, ripped it open and pulled out a small flask. It couldn’t be more than a couple ounces. I waved it in front of him and he stuttered, “Just p-pour it on him. It will counter the spell.”
I walked over to Justin, face red and covered in the result of his sobbing. He looked like he wasn’t sure he was happy to see me, now that he could see me. I might have been projecting, I was not feeling charitable. Purpose was the only thing that kept me from pausing to evaluate just how bad my wounds were.
I splashed some of the liquid on his face, before dumping the rest down his chest, where I could reach. His hands suddenly were free of the wall, and he stumbled back.
I walked back over to the dying mage, my short sword in hand again. The whites of his eyes were huge, “You said-”
I drove the blade into his throat, a quick clean stab. The light extinguished, the alley in almost complete darkness again.