Prince of Sand Part 2

The move would begin at sundown, the harsh heat of the desert being foolish to move about in when one didn’t have to. He slowly made his way back to the Shamans tent, each step sending a lancing pain along his ribs and deep into his chest. The claw had done damage, nothing internal he believed, as he doubted he would be on his feet today, but enough to put him out of commission. I need to learn to dodge faster, he thought, the memory of what had happened not a day ago flashing through his mind.

The She-Worm had exploded out of the sand dune next to him with a ferocity that rivaled that of the legendary leviathan, a literal whirlwind of teeth, claw and horn, he had leapt aside nearly too late, the sinking sand slowing him down and nearly causing him to lose his balance. The split second lasted an eternity as the talons on the scaly hand swept out to gut him, the leather armor woefully inadequate to stop something with the strength of this beast. She was huge, nearly as large as an elephant, weighing in at nearly two thousand pounds she was all muscle, scales and bones, incredibly hard to kill and able to burrow into the sand at a moment’s notice, which to Josh’s chagrin after missing her ambushing strike she immediately did so. The sand rippled as she vanished amongst the golden grains, the ripples she created with her passing disappeared in seconds. Joshua’s blades were out and stabbing, the blades sliding through empty air. He cursed under his breath and ran. There was a rock outcropping not a hundred paces away, and he ran for all he was worth, the skip step of desert running nearly second nature to him now, but not quite. A true native could run without sinking, Joshua had not quite mastered the art and it slowed him. The sound of silk sliding over a rough hand was all the notice that was given to him and he threw himself down again, the monster flew over his head a bare hands breath away, her teeth closing on his head dressing nearly wrenching his neck as it was pulled off him. He turned the force of the pull into a roll, and finished the tumble on his feet and sprinting again, almost there… He would never win if he didn’t have solid ground beneath his feet, fighting a wyrm in the desert in their element was deadly at best.

The young warriors booted sole finally hit solid rock and he scrambled up the small embankment until he was one something of level ground. The loose sand from the wind storms and the gravel made for unsteady footing but anything was better than the shifting tides of the dunes. He was unsure if the She-Wyrm would follow him up here without enticement , but with the sack of Wyrm spawn stench, he was positive he would be able to force her to come. Still… Something told him to duck, wether it was a sixth sense, a warning from God, he had no idea but duck he did and when the venom tipped stinger on the end of the tail slammed into rocks, Josh brought his sword up in a vicious arc, and was foiled when the blade glanced off the natural armor the creature possessed. The Drakken blood lust rose in his veins and he fought to keep it down, slipping into a bezerk rage now would only end in death, the Wyrm was too big, too fast and too smart to be beaten by a man locked in battle frenzy. Instead, he fought it down and pulled a vial from a pouch, the liquid inside was a blue that seemed to glow from an internal light, harvest from a flower in his home land, the noxious fluid was worth a small fortune, and he winced as he launched the vial through the air and directly onto her hide.

The glass bottle tinkled as it shattered, the blue runny liquid exploded onto its scales, the fluid seeping in seeming to find the chinks, the small cracks impenetrable with arrow or blade. The liquid was a real work of art, extracted from the roots, and then placed within a chemical concoction known only to the Alchemists of the Zwhula, and then cured for a year in constant heat, the poison it created was so voilatle, a drop would put a full grown man into a coma for a week, and the bottle had carried an ounce. The beast screamed and its claw shot out once more, this time caught completely flat footed, Joshua could only spin and throw a belated parry, the sword and the roll spared his stomach, but the talons opened a gash and pumped the reptiles venom into his body, he could literally feel the toxin making its way into him and he fell, the lack of pain shocking him. He barely managed to keep the presence of mind to pull the powder of the antitoxin and pour it his hands shaking onto the gash, the powder burned and nearly caused him to black out when he finally gave in and slipped into the Battle Lust.

His golden eyes began to glow, and the world seemed to slow, the huge reptile began to move pitifully slow, his pupils dilated, the world took on a bright appearance and he exploded into action. His legs coiled and he sprung into the air, both sword whipping down to slide seemingly effortlessly into the soft skin beneath the Wyrm’s neck, the Frenzy pushing his muscles to an extreme that would stagger the worlds best doctors, of course, he couldn’t remain in this state long, the toll on his body would kill him. He completed the maneuver and spun in place his swords in a guard stance ready to fight but, the Wyrm had stumbled and fell. He rushed once again, and danced aside as the reptile swiped at him, his blades snaked out and slid into the armpit, a twist and he danced away again. The She-Wyrm groaned and he stepped further back, the blood loss making him weak as he slowly slipped from the Rage and he staggered, his swords appeared almost magically back into their sheaths, he finally fell….

Joshua winced his hand on his newly stitched side and stared at the rising sun. Today was going to be hot, and from the black mar on the horizon, a storm was on its way. Patriarch Wyrms hunted in the sand storms. Tonight would be interesting, the pain lanced through his side once again and he began to stride to where the shaman resided, he was going to need help….