Chapter 5
A strangely calm and collected part of Mike started to a.n.a.lyze what he saw. Thinking back to a childhood obsession with dinosaur-related stories he tried to identify the creature. [A little too small to be a Tyrannosaurus, besides the head and the arms don't seem right. It looks a bit like an Allosaurus, but I'd need some reference material to be sure.]
The rest of Mike, however, was thoroughly panicking. [AAAAAHHHHH, IS THAT A F****** DINOSAUR?!! WHAT THE F***!!!! WHAT THE F***!!!! THAT D*** FIREFLY SENT ME TO JURa.s.sIC F****** PARK!]
Knowing that the stand-off couldn't last much longer, Mike decided to take the initiative and started running as fast as his legs could carry him. He easily jumped the pond before moving towards the tree line, not daring to look back as he heard a ma.s.sive roar followed by the sounds of pursuit.
Mike ducked under a low hanging branch before taking off through forest weaving in and out of the trees. In a clearer state of mind, he might have recognized that his actions were actually the best possible plan for him at the moment. He could never hope to outrun the beast on flat ground, so only by taking advantage of the terrain could he widen the gap. Unfortunately, he was fleeing in blind terror. He couldn't stop imagining those long, terrible teeth tearing into his unprotected back.
The sound of cracking wood and falling trees filled the air behind him, causing him to dig even deeper and run even faster.
As the thunderous footfalls got progressively closer, Mike found himself running along a steep embankment. Something flashed in the corner of his vision. As he turned to look at it, he noticed the creature leaning forward, mouth opened. Mike's breath caught as he stared down into the creature's maw. A hot moist breath buffeted his face, carrying with it the stench of rotting meat.
Seeing death swiftly approaching, he closed his eyes and waited for the pain. Luckily, as he was still running this caused him to trip over an exposed root and start tumbling head over heels down the embankment, narrowly avoiding the creature's bite. A loud *chomp* filled the air as the creature's jaws closed on the s.p.a.ce Mike was occupying a second ago.
After a few moments of confusion, leaves and dirt flying, the embankment Mike was rolling down ended in a sheer drop. He plummeted a good two meters before something pliant broke his fall. He heard a faint *Ompf* of expelled air before hitting the ground and rolling a few more times.
As Mike tried to gather his
Once his head finally stopped spinning he looked up and was greeted by the face of a large bearded man looking down at him. The man was quite frankly ma.s.sive, standing close to 1.9m. A battered looking suit of chain mail barely contained his broad-shouldered, barrel-chested form. His face could have been considered kindly if not for the three long, claw-like scars reaching from his left cheek to his mouth before being lost in his salt and pepper beard. Mike could see the handle of weapon sticking out over his right shoulder, but a well-worn travel cloak obscured the details. A long spear with a wicked, serrated edge was grasped in his right hand.
"I think so," Mike said with a faint nod as he struggled to get up. "Something broke my fall." He noted as he glanced around that the man wasn't alone. Another similarly dressed and armed man stood a little distance away, behind him Mike could see a group that seemed to be headed towards the commotion. All of them were standing on a muddy-looking trail that cut through the woods following the ridge line he had fallen off of.
The bearded man gave a full throated laugh, "Aye, that would be Kaya over there. I think she might be meaning to do you some bodily harm once she gets her wits about her."
Mike followed his gaze and saw young blonde woman, also dressed in chain mail, struggling to get to her feet. A look of anger and offended dignity etched on her mud-smeared face.
Mike gulped wondering if perhaps he hadn't been cursed with bad luck by that showy G.o.ddess, but suddenly remembered why he had fallen in the first place. "Listen! We need to move. I was running away from huge dinosaur. I barely managed to get away, but it should still be following me."
"Dinosaur?" The bearded man asked quizzically.
Mike was about to explain when a ma.s.sive crash sounded and the creature staggered out onto the trail. Its head swung about, sniffing the air, before it fixed its gaze on Mike and let loose a terrifying roar.
"That! That's what I'm talking about." Mike exclaimed, but the bearded man was already taking action. Stepping forward to place himself between the creature and the rest of the group. He started to bark quick, efficient commands.
"Morris, grab the boy and get the men into line! Give me a signal when they are ready to fire. Kaya, with me! We'll stall it till then."
The other chain mail clad man grabbed Mike, and with an ease belying his thin frame slung him onto one shoulder. He jogged over to the rest of the men while shouting, "Double-Line!"
Mike watched from his new vantage point as a group of twelve leather clad men formed up into two lines of six across the trail. The front group fell to a knee and brought weapons, which Mike recognized as guns, up to their shoulders. He noticed a faintly glowing crystal in the in the firing mechanisms, before the man called Morris dropped him carefully behind the formed lines. He managed to glimpse furious movement around the legs of the dinosaur, as it let out some pained cries.
"Ready!" Morris called to the two engaged in combat.
The bearded man glanced back before yelling, "Fire after we disengage!" Both of the combatants suddenly jumped to the right and left of the trail, leaving the dinosaur to look mildly confused.
Morris didn't miss his chance, "Fire!"
A deafening roar crashed through forest as all twelve men fired in unison. Small gouts of blood appeared from the creature's skin. It emitted a screech of pain before turning tail and heading back into the forest.
The group let out a collective sigh of relief. Inquisitive gazes fell on Mike, which was fair considering the circ.u.mstances. Now that the crisis had been averted, Mike was once again reminded that he was still completely naked, and now had a nice collection of sc.r.a.pes and bruises from his headlong flight through the woods.
"I don't suppose that any of you fine gentlemen happen to have some clothes I can borrow?"
This was met with a smattering of chuckles from the group. The man called Morris walked over and placed a friendly hand on his shoulder. "I'll lend a pair of mine, but I would recommend cleaning yourself up first. You're still covered in mud."
"Right. Do you happen to know if there is a stream or a pond nearby I can do that in? Also, if you have any soap it would be much appreciated."
Morris paused, looking a little apologetic. "Sorry, didn't know you were one of those. Almost everyone here can use Lifestyle Magic, so we usually don't keep track of that sort of thing. We'll try to find something that will work." He turned to the rest of the group.
"Wait, Lifestyle Magic. How do you use that?"
Morris stared at him incredulously. Mike could hear the doubt in his voice. "You just think of the effect you want to create, and will it to happen. So long as you have enough mana, anyway."
Mike looked down at himself and imagined himself clean. He felt something like a mental click and a quick wave of weariness pa.s.sed through him. He watched, mystified, as the dirt and mud seemed to simply fall off of him. Once it was done, his skin had taken on the clean, smooth appearance typically seen after a lengthy bath. He beamed, [I just did magic! This is so cool.]
He looked up just in time to see a mailed fist swing towards his head.