Lore

Macing the Competition


The fight wasn’t going very well for Taggart. Every blow landed glanced off the seemingly-indestructible suit of armor. A sword warrior for life, Taggart only knew and preferred sword fighting in his very short career thus far as a warrior, and against this particular monster, his sword was useless. The creature, a disembodied suit of plate mail floating in mid-air and armed with a longsword and shield, looked like it had been in many battles previously, both with a wearer and without. Scratches and dings marred the surface of the armor, and Taggart was adding to them by the minute.

“What are you?” Taggart screamed at the armor. “Why won’t you die?!”

More clangs of steel upon armor as Taggart futilely plied his sword against the armor over and over, but still it kept coming. Bloody and exhausted, Taggart sensed his fate was coming. He had met the foe that he had no answers for, the foe that he knew would claim his life.

A few more futile swings at the armor brought more ringing to his ears, and then the inevitable happened. His sword, also fatigued and tired of use, breaks and clatters noisily to the cavern floor, skittering away in three separate pieces.

“Just great.” Taggart uttered in an unsurprised tone, noticing the creature moving in for the kill. “I suppose this is it then.”

The monster moved in closer to Taggart, raising its sword high to bring it down upon Taggart. Glancing around desperately, Taggart notices an old corpse laying off to one side, a mace still clutched in its bony hand. Lunging, Taggart dives for the corpse and mace, but in doing so, takes a vicious sword slash across the neck. Falling to the ground, and with blood now spurting violently from the wound in his neck, Taggart reaches down and grabs the mace with one hand and puts his free hand to the wound at his neck. Blood oozes between his fingers and drips down upon his fractured chainmail as he raises the mace in self-defense, as the plate monster moves in.

Coughing up blood, Taggart waits for the monster to get close enough, and lunges wildly at the torso plate of the beast, solidly impacting the plate chest of the monster viciously while the creature’s longsword squarely impales him through the chest simultaneously.

Feeling the life ebb out of his body, Taggart says a prayer to his god and notices the mace has completely crushed and caved in the chest piece of the creature as he sees the sword protruding from his chest. The creature twitches a bit and backs away, removing the sword from Taggart’s chest in the process. In doing so, Taggart fades away into unconsciousness, and then, nothing.

I should have tried more than the sword.

the ages

stories

written lore

places of lore

people of lore

organizations

raknar

dragons