Page 85 of Tusks & Saddles
Welborn scrambled to his feet, even as thoughts—his irrational,uselessthoughts, began frantically comparing the monster to the manticore that had changed his life. The mother was much larger than the manticore, or at least, he thought as much as he stole a glance at it over his shoulder. It let out a shriek so loud that it reverberated through Welborn’s bones, forcing him to cover his ears as they rang. The pain was so intense that for a panicked moment, Welborn thought his eardrums had burst. But there was no sticky blood dripping from his ears. Only the overwhelming tremors beneath his boots and the inhuman cry of a beast that saw him as prey.
Fear had long since taken root in Welborn’s soul, but he refused to give up so easily. The unexpected appearance of the giant worm had the cleric veering hard to the right. Not exactly in the direction of the water tower, but it didn’t matter which direction he went as long as it wasn’t toward Miss Eaves. Not even her fancy weapon could tackle something this big.
Large…no giant…bigger than the manticore, surely.
In fact, Welborn was certain it was big enough that it would haveeatenthe manticore if the Giant Sand Slither had the ability to fly.But Welborn wasn’t a manticore, he was a man. A foolish orc man who couldn’t fly and the mother clearly had the advantage—
Move, Welborn!
A burst of adrenaline, a second wind rushed through his body as Welborn ran as fast as his legs could take him. All the while his mind frantically went over all the divine blessings the All Seer had bestowed him. Banishing the monster wouldn’t work—the mother was far too massive for a single cleric to move, even with an arcane blessings from the divine. Fire, lightening, earth—the same problem persisted no matter how much his mind frantically searched for a solution.
Welborn cursed himself for not worshiping a god of storms or volcanoes as his lungs burned with every gasping inhale. He was willing to take any deity that had power over any element strong enough to stop the massive worm behind him. Blasphemy or not, Welborn needed all the divine guidance he could get!
The thought disappeared the moment Welborn heard Miss Eaves weapon fire. It was foolish to freeze but he couldn’t ignore the dread in his gut. The panic that she was facing down the infant Sand Slithers with only her weapon at her side. Guilt for not standing at her side, for not being a stronger cleric, a stronger protector. If something happened to Miss Eaves—
Debris flew into his field of vision. The earth cracked, large spikes the size of an infant Sand Slither jutted from the ground. Welborn stumbled, nearly tripping on his own boots as he fought to keep his balance. Arms winding at his side like some kind of wooden wind up doll.
Helpless.
Running had been futile. The mother was large enough that she had simply surrounded him the moment he tore away from Miss Eaves. Welborn’s hand reached up for the symbol of the All Seer. Their name, a prayer on the tip of his tongue—Welborn desperately wanted to ask for guidance.
So many mistakes in such a short amount of time. So many missed opportunities. Every regret Welborn had over the course of his short time in Ordia swelled as high as the mother did. An overwhelming creature that saw him as nothing more than an ant beneath its mighty weight. All sharp teeth and thick armored hide covered in deadly spikes.
It was over. This was how the High Cleric had perished and why he couldn’t be found. This was how Welborn would end. A short life that would become an even shorter story told around food and drink. All reduced to a single sentence.
Welborn Larokson had died saving the woman he loved.
He supposed there were worst ways to be remembered. Most people remembered his mother in a similar fashion. And just like his mother, the cleric could only hope Miss Eaves could save herself. That he could buy her enough time.
The mother reared her head back, its body casting a massive shadow across Welborn’s form. The brief reprieve from the harsh sun was the smallest of comforts before the end…but if things were going to end, Welborn had no intention of going quietly.
His hand encircled the symbol of the All Seer as a strange calm came over him. Similar to the sensation had crept over him when he nearly died years ago. The moment before he had lost consciousness while laying next to his dead mother. His yelloweyes desperately trying to hold onto her face for fear he would forget her in the afterlife.
One last miracle,Welborn thought.Please, All Seer, grant me one last miracle so I can save her…
The familiar tingle of electricity ran through the stone and into his fingers. A pulse of intention, of magic that Welborn had only ever known through the All Seer. Magic in hand, the cleric’s hold on it was like the grip on the stone. He just needed the right moment to let it loose. Timing was everything.
The tension in Welborn’s body grew as the mother’s jaw widened. Rows of jagged teeth the size of Welborn’s own body drew closer and closer. All he needed to do was release the spell before those jaws snapped shut around him. If he could take out the mother, Miss Eaves would have a shot at making it out alive—
I will save her.
I will save her.
I WILL SAVE HER.
The pull at the base of his spine caught Welborn off guard. It was a sensation he hadn’t felt before, one that he only realized was happening when the scent of old parchment being read next to a warm fire hit his nose. Whatever was happening, Welborn didn’t fight it. As his vision began to blur, as everything suddenly shifted, the cleric felt his stomach lurch.
Then there was nothing.
For a very brief moment, Welborn thought he had died…but he hadn’t. A burst of wind and suddenly he was stumbling over a small rock. He landed on his butt, completely disoriented. He had somehow traveled away from the Sand Slithers.
“Welborn!”
Whipping his head around, Welborn was stunned to see Miss Eaves. She was perched on a small rock formation that was no taller than knee height. It wouldn’t do much good against preventing the Sand Slithers from attacking, but Welborn quickly realized that wasn’t Miss Eaves intent when she shouted—
“Duck!”
His eye locked onto the barrel of Gambler’s Luck and without thinking twice, Welborn threw himself to the ground. Welborn had enough time to slam his hands over his ears as a loud explosion rang from Miss Eaves direction. The smell of black powder filled his nose as something flew past. There was no time to process what had exactly happened when a bellow rang throughout the desert.
