Battle Mage: Winter's Edge (17 page)

             
“Stone hand,” Sebastian improvised using the stone skin spell to enhance the skin of just his right hand. Delivering a blow like a stone hammer to the creature’s face, blood sprayed onto his white jacket as its nose flattened beneath his fist.

             
Squalling in pain, the orc lost interest in its hold on him and fell back holding its face.

             
Spinning away from the fallen attackers, Sebastian took quick stock of his situation. Nereith was closest to him. A pair of orcs had her pinned down and rope was being pulled out to tie her hands. A flash of flame from off to his right proved that Rilena was still fighting, but there were too many orcs to see through to tell how she was doing. Druick was masked from his eyes completely. Then the split second was over and the battle mage was moving again.

             
Surging towards Nereith, Sebastian sought to free her from her captors, but these orcs weren’t alone. Bestial looking white furred creatures with the faces of the snow lions of the north moved to stop him. They were fast. Even with his sped up reflexes, these creatures could match his movements and their strength was greater than his. Still, it was no ordinary man they fought, but a battle mage.

             
“Shield,” he ordered calling up the magical blue protection over his left forearm. The claws of the first beast glanced off the energy even as Sebastian swung his stone hardened right hand towards the second white fanged lion. The stone slowed his strike a bit and the creature dodged the blow. If not for the mage’s quick use of his shield, the retaliatory strike of its claws would have gutted him.

             
A snarl from behind narrowly alerted the man to a third attacker. Wheeling around, the shield deflected one set of claws as the outstretched arms tried to grip him in a deadly hug of claws and teeth. The mage felt pain as the right set of claws raked his jacket tearing through to skin in an instant. As he twisted, his leg caught the first attacker on the side of the face driving it back momentarily.

             
Even as his breath came more and more ragged to his ears, the mage gasped, “Fire breath!” His hands occupied, it was his first try at such a maneuver. As flame gushed from his mouth into the face of his rear ambush, he quickly realized why no one ever thought to try this before, let alone thought to teach it. The heat of his own fire rushed forward in a geyser towards his assailant catching its fur in a scorching blaze of flame driving it off screaming, but even as it burned he felt his nose ache from the heat. He had a feeling the fire might even have burned some of his own hair in the attack. The other draw back was that he had to close his eyes from the heat and the overly bright light of the fire so close to his face.

             
Blinking from spots in his vision, Sebastian nearly missed the claws of the second lion trying for him again. He tried to call a fireball to his right hand but could barely muster a croak. Rolling aside he tried to clear his throat. He would never try that spell in combat again, the mizard vowed to himself, even if he lived to try.

             
The creatures were so fast and dangerous; Sebastian suddenly realized that he had lost the others in the confusion. He had been driven back and though the mage had wounded a couple of the beasts they seemed to be gaining numbers. His reflex spell was now wearing off also. Their moves were getting harder and harder to defend. His stamina waning, the mage knew that he was unlikely to save the others. In fact, Sebastian was unsure if he could save himself now.

             
“Stone skin,” he managed to gasp while touching the side of a creature’s face. It reeled back in alarm. A simple spell, but insidious in its effect. The monster’s jaw locked open in its howl as the fur, skin and bone all began turning to stone.

             
One more down, but they were pressing despite their fellow’s plight. He had hoped it would have distracted them at least for a second.

             
“Fire lance,” he summoned a glowing wand to his right even as his shield continued to protect his left. One of the more basic of spells, the shield was his life line in this battle. His new weapon slowed the creatures slightly. Fire was usually something to spook the instincts of most animals. He didn’t know of their creation, but he could assume something primal remained to their thinking.

             
Still they fought and drove the mage back. He sidestepped trees using them as shields to keep their numbers from overwhelming his defenses. Roots sought to trip him, but the creatures tripped on occasion as well.

             
“Gust!” a whirl of snow blew up in between him and his attackers. Two slowed to wipe at their eyes.

             
Maybe he could defeat them yet, the young man thought brazenly gathering new hope despite his waning energy. Training for hours and hours as a student had given him great stamina, but even he could be worn down by such an intense battle.

             
In the midst of the fight, Sebastian missed just how far he had been forced away. The rounded terrain had gathered steepness. A misstep now meant tumbling several feet for him with creatures all around seeking to slay him. A shield blow could send the monsters well past and force them to climb back towards him also, if he timed the maneuver correctly.

             
Just as the mage had begun to realize the terrain’s advantages, he found a major disadvantage. As Sebastian stepped back in his slow retreat, his foot suddenly found only air. Sagging back in a stumble, the heel of his boot still found nothing, and that was the end of the battle.

             
Howling cheers at his misfortune, the beasts halted just before a steep fall. Sebastian twisted away as his head fell past the drop off. Searching the space below him as the world seemed to slow around him; he gaged his chances of survival. The mage was looking down at a large drop before he would impact with a strip of earth that was on a steep incline.

             
“Stone skin,” he called forth the protection for his own skin in the hopes that it would aid in his survival. The impact with the sloping face was still bone jarring. “Gust” gasped the mage as he called forth a wind to stir up an obscuring cloud as he tumbled down the rock strewn slope. It was a long tumble with more than a few drop offs. The second landing knocked his breath from him despite the protective stone shell. A third left him far below the watching werelions. The stirred up snow cascaded down the slope becoming a small avalanche all around his tumbling form. Gathering him up, the snow covered him, throwing him even further below the cliff’s edge and away.

             
Minutes soon passed. The werelions looked for movement from their safe perch above the avalanche. The beast’s eyes were very acute as were their other senses like that of the sense of smell that had warned the orcs of the four pursuing them, but there was no new movement. The snow settled with the avalanche was over save for the final jostling of the smallest of clumps of snow and rock.

             
They could see no body above the freshly gathered snow. They could hear no sound of a man trying vainly to claw his way free of several feet of snow. There were no moans of the dying.

             
Satisfied, the creatures gathered themselves and returned to their orcish masters.

             
More time passed and still there was no noticeable movement from the hill of snow.

              The light had begun to fade as the short winter’s day gave way to a much longer night. At the base of the cliff, the snow stirred. First, a hand wriggled free of the fresh snow, then a second followed by the twist to the side for a shoulder and head to slide free. A gasp for fresh air could have been heard as the man struggled for his first full breath in nearly an hour had there been any to witness the feat.

             
As Sebastian slowly worked his way from the heavy snow, the mage tried to figure out how injured he was. Pains were trying to let him know of their existence from so many sources that he could hardly begin to take stock. The mage knew he was hurt. Both the claws of the werebeasts and the fall had done much to beat him down. He wished there was a healer in their party beside him now. Sebastian could heal others well enough, but to work on one’s self was impossible and even a mizard couldn’t find an answer to get around that fact.

             
Standing up shakily, Sebastian took stock of his condition just from his appearance. Several claws had torn through the stout cloth of his jacket and pants. Red stained the white and gray of his camouflage ruining that aspect of his gear. The red would draw enemies to him easily and the smell of blood was likely to give him away just as much thanks to the lions’ excellent sense of smell.

             
Removing his pack from his back, Sebastian pulled the few items he had carried along. The bulk of his gear was with his horse and the party guarding the ambassador now, but he had bandages and alcohol for his wounds at least. As he pulled off his jacket, the mage replaced the air shield to try and maintain his heat and to repel the gently falling snow. It was getting colder and he would need shelter soon even with the magical aid.

             
Binding his arm was the easiest of his wounds though tying off the bandage with one hand proved pretty difficult. Adding alcohol onto the wound drew a hiss of pain involuntarily. The falcon barely restrained the cry of pain as he feared giving the enemy evidence of his presence if they still remained near enough in a patrol.

             
A gash on his side from a swipe of claws, a scratch to the thigh, and most likely a cracked rib or two were added to his damage tally. His ankle hurt also as he had nearly sprained it toppling down the nearly vertical face of the cliff. Amazingly, he actually felt that he was not in too terrible of shape, if it came down to it, he could still put up a bit of a fight. If not for the stone skin spell, the mage would certainly have faired worse from the fall though.

             
Wounds were sealed as best he could make them in the cold and falling snow. Hurrying after his makeshift bandaging, the mage replaced his jacket having never removed his cloak to help keep his body heat. Finally, Sebastian felt he could try to move onward. He appraised the cliff above and the base where he had come to land. The ground near him still angled lower from his ledge down the cliff side. Though not completely into the true mountains of the Dimples, these hills nearly qualified as such. He looked back at the steep stone wall again. If the mage were completely healthy, Sebastian figured that he might be able to scale it, but without proper gear, and his current injuries, there was no way to accomplish that now.

             
Shelter. Though he wanted to try and save the others, there was no way he could do it alone against so many. Throwing himself after them would only lead to his own destruction. The mizard needed time to think and a place to try and get warm.

             
As he wandered in the general direction that they had been following from above, Sebastian eventually found an opening behind some scrub and trees. Even with the loss of most of its foliage brought on by winter, it was hard to see unless you were nearly on top of the small cave and it was only luck that Sebastian had been following the cliff base very closely. Hoping to escape the wind that was beginning to pick up as day turned to night; the mage took the offered cover and entered gratefully.

             
“Vision,” he croaked finding his throat parched from the cold and probably his injuries as well. The spell worked despite the condition of his voice and his vision attempted to brighten the darkness like it was early morning.

             
The interior of the cave was surprising as the mage took stock of his surroundings. It wasn’t merely a single hollowed out room in the stone of the cliff. Instead, Sebastian found that it continued to run deeper as an irregularly formed tunnel. It wasn’t man made, he thought. This was most likely the results of the great quakes of the cataclysm that had torn the southern part of North Continent from its peninsula as the phenomenon created new islands from the ocean. Mountains such as the Dimples were yet another result of the cataclysm that history had recorded, though the exact happenings of that time were sketchy at best, it could be assumed that the resulting mountains had gone through tremendous growing pains.

             
“Fire sword,” Sebastian ordered feeling the need to check further to make sure that he was indeed alone. It wouldn’t be smart to try and sleep here if the tunnels hid a bear or mountain cat hiding from the weather or using the space as its home.

             
As he continued further and further, the mage found that the tunnel never thinned to more than the width of his shoulders and the ceiling only made him stoop twice. He doubted a bear could’ve squeezed through and most likely a mountain cat wouldn’t bother to wander so deep inside of the earth. Contemplating just how far he should push his luck, Sebastian found his strength waning quickly even as his various pains were beginning to make themselves known more fiercely.

             
At least it was warmer this far beneath the stone, he decided wearily. The winds were already a distant memory here, even as his mind began to fog with exhaustion.