Stand Against Darkness

Green whips of crackling hellfire crashed against my truesilver armor, scorching and marring it with a terrible hiss as I looked up, finally coming to terms that this was actually happening. I was going to fight an Infernal.

Bolgrim brought his fiery fist down on where I stood and I forced myself to roll out of the way just in time as the chunk of animated stone pounded into the ground with a violent explosion. I clumsily skittered across the floor, just barely managing to bolt back to my feet with some amount of grace. Even armor made of truesilver wasn’t light, and the nagging exhaustion in my limbs didn’t let me forget that fact.

But this was do or die, and exhaustion meant little to me in that moment, my aching body refusing to give in. I lifted my sword in one hand, rearing back with the other, a sphere of swirling, golden energy beginning to spark and coalesce in my open palm.

I quickly ran my open palm along the length of my on-fire blade, the holy flames swaying and bending around my hand as the metal of the sword itself began to glow radiantly, intensifying to the point where it looked as if it was made of pure light, surrounded in a halo of fire. I finished casting a Blessing Of Might, and quickly refocused my efforts on strengthening my defenses, a barrier of pulsating, unstable light energy encasing me in a protective bubble. Shielding magic was a priest’s specialty, but paladins could make do when needed.

Another massive fist crashed into the floor beside me, forcing my attention back to Bolgrim as I scrambled out of the way, tendrils of green flame charring the destroyed ground. He looked at me with his fiery, sparking eyes as he wrenched his fist out of the ground, and even through my shield, I shuddered in fear.

There was no time to waste though, and with a vigorous shake of my head, I refocused myself, gripping my sword with both hands and steeling myself. I took a deep breath, sizing up Bolgrim, trying to decide where best to attack as he finally pried his hand out of the crushed floor, rising to his full height once more. He was nearly thrice as tall as I, and as wide as a giant. This wasn’t going to be easy.

Pushing aside my doubts and fears, I let my instincts carry me as I pushed forward, surging into the crackling inferno of hellfire without hesitation. The frenetic thud of my metal boots against the floor resounded in my head, only to be drowned out by the terrible sound of stone crashing against stone as Bolgrim attempted another heavy handed strike, the lumbering Infernal’s blow ripping apart the floor where I had been a mere split second earlier.

I couldn’t help but let loose a defiant cry of anger as I finally reached the end of my charge, bringing my blazing blade down for a horizontal, sweeping strike on the slab of igneous rock that composed the Infernal’s left leg. My sword bit into Bolgrim’s leg with a hissing screech, even the empowered, radiant blade struggling to muscle through several feet of igneous stone.

Still, after a brief moment of concentrated effort, my sparking, ignited blade slipped out the other side of his leg, a jet of concentrated green flames pouring out shortly after, almost like blood.

I swiveled around, readjusting my stance as Bolgrim began to recover with a groaning rumble, lifting his heavy fist from where he had missed me as I had surged past him, only to find his footing giving out. He attempted to reposition his left leg, the stump of what was left of it lifting away awkwardly, leaving the motionless, severed portion of it behind.

Hands gripping, muscles tensing, I lunged back at the confused Bolgrim with zealous fury burning within me, devotion and the will to survive carrying me into the air as I left the ground. I aimed my jump well enough, managing to strike at Bolgrim’s chest, plunging the entire length of my blade into his chest with a searing slice. I hung onto my blade for dear life as I slammed into him, gravity beginning to pull me down as I tightened my grip.

Down and down I went, dragging my blade through Bolgrim’s stout chest with all my might, hissing and roaring flames trailing my descent as they poured out of the massive, deep gash.

I felt so confident in that moment, so proud and alive. Everything I’d trained for had culminated in this moment – I was doing a paladin’s work. For a second, I even felt like I might end it right then and there with that single, decisive blow.

I was dead wrong.

As I came to the end of my descent, my blade popping out of Bolgrim’s chest with a fiery crackle, I felt myself falling for a fraction of a second, the unmistakeable sensation of weightlessness overtaking me as I plummeted to the floor from Bolgrim’s hulking form.

That sensation shattered into a thousand glass shards that pressed into my bare flesh, as I suddenly smashed into something with a clatter, an iron, unmoving grip settling around me in an instant. It crushed my arms inwards with a sickly crunch, forcing me to release my grip on my sword, even as I attempted to hold on. It clattered to the ground, the blade itself returning to normal metal, while the flames encasing it flickered, and died. The air was forced from my lungs as I realized what was happening through my blurry vision.

Bolgrim had caught me as I fell.

I writhed and thrashed violently in his grip, grunting in impotent rage at what was happening, tendrils of slinking, animate hellfire writhing towards me from the cracks in Bolgrim’s stone carapace. Their heat was unnatural and immediate, washing over me and suffocating me with their sulfurous stench.

I ceased thrashing for a split second, just long enough to make out Bolgrim wobbling uneasily on one leg, green fire gushing from his chest where I had dragged my blade through. My sight was blurry, and his crushing grip on me was disallowing me from breathing. Black spots peppered the edges of my vision, but even through the haze of pain and oxygen deprivation beginning to wash over me, I could feel the world around me tilting.

My eyes closed, my lungs burned, and my body ached as I felt myself falling, Bolgrim’s vicelike grip receding just as instantly as it had set upon me. I connected with the ground sharply, so hard that I’m fairly certain I broke my shoulder, and shattered my arm. The ensuing pangs of crippling, debilitating pain seemed to agree.

All of a sudden I was aware again as that pain swept through me, forcing me to take notice of what was happening once more, forcing me to breathe and blink rapidly as air flooded back into my lungs. The black spots marring my vision receded and I was instantly able to see the scene unfolding before me.

Bolgrim, unable to support himself on a single leg had toppled over into a heap of writhing fire and brimstone, and I had been thrown from his grasp as he faltered. I lay only a few shallow paces away from the stump of his severed leg, and he no doubt knew I was still within reach.

I rolled to my right doggedly, pain wracking me, both deterring me from pushing on, and encouraging me that this was worth it. It made me feel like I was doing something worthwhile, made me feel alive. It can be easy to forget just how motivating and refreshing a bit of real, genuine pain can be when you can just heal your injuries with holy magic.

I hated, and loved every second of it.

A massive stone fist crashed into the ground where I had been not a mere moment earlier.  I scuttled away, kicking and thrashing while clutching my arm in pain. Tears began to form at the edges of my eyes as I began to chuckle under my breath. There wasn’t really anything funny to laugh at, but in moments like these, when things seem impossible and the world is against you, sometimes the only thing to do is laugh at the abdusrdity of your misfortune.

Gritting my teeth in pain and exertion, I willed holy magic through my armor, and into my shattered arm, grunting and laughing out of sheer pain as the bones mended themselves, damaged flesh reforming and healing itself rapidly. I snapped my dislocated shoulder back into place with a sickly pop and a jolt of pain that really woke me up.

Another fist crashed into the ground  mere inches from my feet, and I immediately picked myself up off the ground, realizing just how close Bolgrim was. He was lying on the ground, stomach and chest pressed to the floor while he worked his massive stone arms, dragging himself towards me, attempting to smash me with every movement.

I backpedaled, letting the swirling aura of golden healing magic coalescing in my palm mend my injuries as I searched for my sword, being careful to stay out of the Infernal’s reach.

Bolgrim was beginning to get visibly angry, and that was quite the feat for a person who was literally on fire. The divet carved into his flaming  rock skull that passed for a mouth ignited with verdant flames as a sound unlike any other rippled through the room, shaking the floor. It was like listening to the wind itself battle against fire, an impotent bellow of rage cutting through the crackle of his flames.

Tendrils of hellfire slinked outwards from the cracks in Bolgrim’s carapace, slashing and scorching the earth around me as each one attempted to strike me. I dodged desperately, rolling and dashing out of the way as nimbly as I could, but there was no escaping their reach for long.

The first strike that made contact smashed into my back, biting through my unstable bubble of protective light without pause, breaking it apart like glass into rapidly disintegrating shards of useless holy magic. The blow forced me to the ground, my truesilver armor struggling to stay solid, the intense heat having reducing a small section of it to molten slag.

The pain was unlike anything else – completely debilitating, absolutely malevolent in it’s intensity. The smell of cauterized flesh, liquefied metal, and sulfur flooded my nostrils as I attempted to lift myself off the ground, dragging myself away from Bolgrim. I glanced over my shoulder, watching in terror as he stared back at me with those verdant, fiery eyes of his. If there was anything besides fury and anger behind those veiled orbs, I didn’t see it.

I stared for a moment, letting my eyes wander to the ground right in front of him, where he was dragging himself, the glint of metal catching my eye. It was my sword.

Another lashing length of flame came down on me, snapping me back into action as I dragged myself away, deeming my weapon a lost cause, and attempting to get to my feet. Bolgrim refused to let me stand, the force of the strike sending me floundering back to the floor in pain as I attempted to heal myself.

Everything seemed to slow down in that moment, as I took stock of my situation. Bolgrim’s weighty fist crashed into the ground behind me, crushing my sword and shattering it into shards of useless metal, the blow sending up chunks of broken stone in a terrible explosion of force, and it was at that moment that I realized, I wasn’t going to win. I wasn’t going to be able to defeat Bolgrim.

I wasn’t strong enough.

And suddenly, I was scared. I didn’t feel confident anymore, didn’t feel like this was what I was meant to do. I’m a paladin, but I’m also human, and in that moment, I was more human than paladin. I felt real, true fear.

My movements became erratic and hyper, undisciplined and frantic. I skittered away, dragging myself as fast as I could towards the entrance to the room, towards the hallway. It was too small for Bolgrim to fit through, even lying on his torso like he was. I didn’t care about winning anymore, didn’t care about my creed as a paladin, didn’t care about this damned Infernal.

I wanted to live.

I wanted it more than anything else, and it drove me onwards, through anguish and terror. Bolgrim’s tendrils of animate fire crackled and snapped  behind me, smashing into me over and over without mercy, whips of fiery judgement tearing through my armor, biting into my flesh with a sickly hiss as I was seared alive.

Second after second, agonizing moment after agonizing moment, I continued on, my legs and back bearing the worst of the assault as my truesilver armor was scorched and liquefied in several places, chunks of cauterized, smoking flesh poking through where my armor had broken.

We continued like this, Bolgrim trying in vain to smash me with his fists, me dragging myself just out of reach as his whips of outstretched fire battered and burned me, punishing me for my cowardice, until finally, I reached the threshold of the door.

I gripped the side of the doorway, heaving myself through with the last of my strength, the light of the room behind me giving way to darkness as I reentered the endless hallway. The pain was so great, so debilitating and all encompassing, as if every fiber of my being was crying out, pleading to be put out of its misery.

But I couldn’t stop just yet. I felt my hands trembling, my scorched legs not responding to me, even as I tried to stand. The pain was too great, and so I was relegated to simply dragging myself along desperately, every rough motion intensifying the anguish washing over me.

Just one more push I told myself, one last gasp, and I would be there, out of Bolgrim’s reach.

I glanced over my shoulder, watching, as expected, as Bolgrim jabbed one of his arms through the doorway, thrashing and smashing in impotent rage as I pulled myself out of reach, even his lashing whips of green fire unable to touch me. Another rumbling bellow rang out from behind me as I dragged myself a little further away, Bolgrim’s jammed arm wriggling about violently, searching and smashing around for me, but all to no avail.

I was in the clear.

My body gave out instantly the moment I saw that I was relatively safe. My arms wobbled and refused to carry me any further, my legs were numb with pain, and my hands trembled in agony. I reached up, lifting my helmet from my head, unfastening the clasps, and letting it tumble to the ground beside me with a metallic clank as it rolled away. Sweat rolled down my forehead in thick rivulets, my skin glistening with perspiration. I shuddered for a moment, chuckling in disbelief and pain at my situation.

There, in the darkness of the hallway, I took a deep, fresh breath of air, gasping in relief and awe. I held the breath for a good long while, basking in just how good it felt to be alive, to have air in my lungs, even though the pain coursing through me begged to differ.

I exhaled, and began to concentrate, putting all of my evaporated effort and strength into mending my legs, at least enough so that I could walk.

I didn’t win, but I had survived.