The Chronicles of a Scalebound Sage

[6] Broken

They rolled down Thrand’s back, his massive wing creating a ramp to the rocky ground below. They were in a clearing in the middle of the forest, facing the base of a crag in the landscape. The fall was not pleasant as the rocks and speed caused them both to be rattled with pain. As soon as they came to a stop Lord Salstar released the spell, choking them while he watched from high atop Thrand.

Freja had been sure this would happen the moment she saw her brother at the school. This was a shiagaunt, the removal of a potential heir to a noble house. It made her a pariah and would serve to separate her from her house. Since her older sister died, technically she was next in line to become head of the family after their father. However, invoking a shiagaunt in front of spectators, bowing to her younger brother, and him grabbing her antlers showed that she recognized him as her superior. All that was left was for her family to abandon her. She was prepared for that outcome but hadn’t thought it would come so soon.

Lord Salstar used magic to amplify his voice as he stated with disdain. “Freja, for too long you have been the stain on the honor of our family. I can see I was wrong to believe a mere wizard was worthy of the name Salstar when all you did was fail again and again. I listened to your sister Helga and believed that maybe you would be useful.” He shook his head. “Well, let's see if you can be useful. If you have learned anything in your studies worth a damn.” He pointed behind her. “In that cave is a troll. I assume you know what that is. It has caused problems for the people of a nearby village. Any Salstar worth their name would be able to kill it easily. Prove to me you are worth my time.”

Thrand's wings flapped hard, and in seconds the dragon was far off in the skies above. Bjorn was much faster to recover than Freja, who appeared to be in shock from being left with such a dangerous creature. She knew it was true that a trained mage with battle experience could take on a troll alone, but she was not a mage nor trained in combat. Her family just left her to die. To get ripped apart brutally by some crazed beast. She was still reeling from the tumble, the choking, the slap, and now this. 

Before she could even stand the world went silent as all animals in the area fled. A thunderous roar came from the cave a little over 300 feet away. The beast stepped out into the sun, irritated that some weak intruders dared step into its territory. 

The brute stood over eight feet tall, its muscular form hidden under a thick hide. Its arms were long and hairy, its claws caked with the dried blood of its previous meal. Its form was oddly humanoid, but wrong and misshapen. Its mouth was full of jagged blackened incisors. It took another step out of the cave and let out another roar, this one even louder.

Bjorn once again inserted himself between Freja and danger. The young girl's eyes were locked on what she was sure would be her death in a few more heartbeats. Fighting was suicide, Bjorn knew that, but if Freja ran maybe she could get away. Bjorn turned and bit her shirt sleeve to try to get her to move. She was so scared she couldn’t even stand. The troll took another step and Bjorn could taste the creature's anticipation; he was eager to hunt and his eyes were locked on Freja.

“I think we should get out of here, like yesterday, Bjorn,” Failsafe said, panicked.

“Damn-it she won’t budge. She’s in shock,” Bjorn responded. 

“Yeah, I noticed, but we can move, we can get out of here,” Failsafe said.

Bjorn paused; he hadn't even considered leaving Freja. The idea was asinine, or was it? He knew his protective instinct for the girl was because of the familiar contract. He could break that contract and run. Yes, that would mean leaving this girl to die but shouldn’t he prioritize his own life? He obviously cared a lot about himself, seeing that his previous life created a return from death magic in the form of Failsafe.

He thought back to the dream he’d had before waking up as this lizard thing. It was fuzzy but he knew it was how he died, his last memory. In that last moment he didn’t think about saving himself. He was putting his all into a spell that would save the people of that kingdom. Bjorn would like to think that was who he was. A man who put others first. He knew he was grasping at straws and romanticizing his death like it was something noble. In truth for all he knew he caused that destruction in the dream. 

The lizard took a deep breath. “How do I activate one of the skills? The poison scratch one.”

“Are you seriously going to try and fight that thing?” Failsafe screamed in disbelief. “You’re going to get us ki-”

“Failsafe,” Bjorn said in a tone reminiscent of a man ready to die. “How do I do it?”

Failsafe was quiet for a few heart beats. “Since you are an animal it should be automatic. Focus your magic on your claws with the intention of infusing your venom into them. No chanting or anything like that, it’s just directing the flow of mana.”

“Thanks,” Bjorn said solemnly.

Failsafe took a long breath. “Well, this was a short life but it was nice being here with you.”

Poison Scratch

Magic Cost: 1

You can infuse your claws with neurotoxic venom, making even small scratches fatal over time.

Bjorn focused on the flow of his mana, moving it around his body. He felt his only point of mana drain from his core into his claws and they started to steam with a sickly green vapor. With the troll focused entirely on Freja he decided to run in an arc, making it first look like he was running away. The troll watched him only for a second before turning his attention back to Freja. The beast hunched over and began running on all fours like an ape. 

Freja screamed as the creature drew closer, snapping her out of her frozen state. She frantically looked around for Bjorn, only to see him running away. She turned her head, knowing she was going to die alone, abandoned by her family and her own familiar. She tried to get up and get running but slipped as she tripped over herself, only managing to crawl in a pathetic mess of frantic terrified motions. 

That’s when she heard the troll scream in agony. It howled as the running thumps of its footsteps stopped. The sound of it wrestling with something drew her eyes back around. She saw Bjorn on the creature's back, biting and scratching as many times as he could. The cuts were superficial at most, barely drawing any blood. Besides that, she knew trolls had an extremely fast healing factor. Cuts and bites would heal up in minutes. 

“Bjorn, run!” she called out as she finally reached for her wand.

The troll thrashed his arms wildly, trying to reach the nuisance on his back. His animal intelligence didn’t allow for him to think of any better strategy than wild rage. It was all he needed after all, and soon Bjorn was knocked free. The troll whirled around with speed unbefitting its size. His ape-like hands clasped tightly on Bjorn’s torso while his claws dug deep into the lizard's ribs. The monster's other hand quickly reached for the lizard's neck, and with a twist and a shower of blood decapitated the struggling Bjorn.

Freja chanted her spell, but when she saw the troll drop Bjorn's body her words petered out. The spell failed, which was expected since she’d never tried offensive magic before. The troll rushed Freja, and with a slash of its claw she was sent flying. Her body burned with pain as flesh tore. Her vision blurred as she breathed in a mountain of earth. She found herself face down in a muddy red pool of her own blood. She rolled onto her back but could not sit up. The troll stepped on her right leg as it approached, shooting blinding pain into her.

The creature raised both hands over its head, ready to bring them down on Freja and end her life in one quick and decisive blow. Freja looked up, past the hulking giant into the sky where Thrand circled overhead. She reached out her right arm since the other was broken; she only had one thought in her head. Through the pain. Through the sadness. Through the abuse, the torment, the years of hatred. She didn’t want to die, not like this, not to this beast in this field. 

Her heart darkened, and all she could think was to curse her fake fucking family. She cursed them over and over again. She screamed all of the rage she’d built up over the years. Every profane thing she could think she wished upon them. Even through it all there were no more tears, not for her sad life.

That’s when she noticed the beast had not brought down its hands. She turned her attention back to her executioner as he stumbled dizzily off of her pinned broken leg. The creature continued to drunkenly wobble as blood began to foam in its mouth. It spun and Freja saw that none of the wounds Bjorn had given it had healed; they all seemed to only grow more intense and bloody. After a few minutes of this the creature fell over, going into a violent seizure. 

Trolls were notoriously tough creatures, their healing factors usually meant that your first strike had to be a decisive killing blow. Their bones were as tough as iron, their hide ridged leather. They could regenerate from near anything. They were resistant to poisons and venoms and even weaker magics. Freja knew all this, and could not believe what she was seeing. A troll felled by venom… It was unheard of, it was damn near impossible.

As the creature let out its last few death throes Thrand landed in the clearing with a tremor that shook the landscape. Moments later Lord Salstar, Lady Ingrid, Ragnar and a few servants descended the dragon’s back. Ingrid still refused to look upon her daughter. Ragnar had a bemused look on his face; he hadn’t expected her to survive and kill the troll. Lord Salstar, on the other hand, watched her like a hawk preparing to strike.

Lord Salstar and two of his servants approached the heavily bleeding girl. Her mother and brother were ordered to keep their distance. The servants dropped Freja’s belongings on the ground in a pile before they too distanced themselves, leaving the Lord alone with his estranged child.

“You could not cast a single spell. You froze and got your familiar killed, and here you are, only alive because of a fluke. It is like you were born to disappoint me,” her father said with uncaring eyes. “I can not believe Helga convinced me to keep you around for so many years, may she with the Forest Father. It looks like your mother was right all along. We should have removed you long ago. The Salstar family will be all the brighter after today.”

“Fuck you,” Freja said. Her mouth was dry, dirty, bloody and was barely able to speak. “You tried to kill me. You killed my familiar. You ruined my life. Fuck you, Ulfar Salstar.”

The Lord clicked his tongue in disapproval. “You are stripped of any nobility my blood would have granted you. You are no Salstar. You are trash. You are disowned, never use the Salstar name. Never return to the Salstar territory or any of our towns.” He bent down and placed a small potion and a silk bag on the ground. “I pray you have a short life and for your sake we never meet again.”

It only took a few moments before her family was gone, back on Thrand and into the skies. 

Freja laid there in agony and rage. She looked at the potion her father left her. A small health potion, not enough to fully heal her wounds of course, but maybe enough to set the bones and stop some of the internal bleeding. She reached for the potion and drank it in one gulp. 

The girl screamed as her broken arm, ribs and leg bones reset but didn’t heal. Her body grew hotter and some of the more grievous wounds stopped bleeding. The pain was quick but unforgiving, and as soon as it was over she passed out.

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