You instinctively move your right hand to your face, trying to cover it, and you feel your magic ring pushing the dog back, as it growls, confused. Another dog is getting near you to your left, looking at you, with both fear and hunger dashing in its eyes, but you don't see the fourth one coming from the other side until just before it tries to bite your thigh...
And making it, but the claws don't nail into your skin. Of course, the bag! You had bought the amulet, supposed to toughen your skin, to a gnome merchant in Absalom, right before you got rid of him (he had rich enemies). He said there were dragon scales inside the bag, but warned you not to open them, or it would stop working.
You had never felt your skin different before this moment, so you thought it had been a con.
Luckily, it wasn't.
Before the other dog aproaches you, you quickly react (something you have learned the hard way), getting a jerky out of your backpack and throwing it to the dog in front of you.
You feel a shiver as your mystical energy activates, turning you into a being of pure speed.
Another of the dogs tries to bite you, without paying attention to the jerky.
But its claws collide with your armor, and it retreats barking.
Your attention goes back to the dog in front of you, and you see he is distracted, with the beef in its mouth. It may have not tamed the animals, but you earned valuable seconds.
The dog to your left keeps barking, and feints a bite, but it does not seem like it is threatening you.
You feel another bite in the leg, but not strong enough to surpass the protection the amulet gives you.
You have defended yourself succesfully until now, but the dogs don't seem like they want to back down.
Glaring at the beasts, Vincent would let out a sigh. He had given them their chance and they had refused to take it. At this point it was no longer his problem. Finally drawing forth his blade, he'd swing down at the first one of the dogs no distracted, the one that had almost bitten him. As far as he was concerned, the beast had this coming.
The blade cuts easily into the dog's side, and you feel the magical scimitar pulling itself deeper into it.
The animal mournfully whimpers and tries to run away from you, up the road.
Vincent would consider striking the beast again, but instead let it go, deciding to let it lick it wounds and take off. He'd yell at the dog as it took off, yelling out at it that it indeed better run before turning to the others. He wasn't a fan of hurting animals, the idea not necessarily being cruel, but more so being pointless. There was no money to be made harming animals that only chose to exist.
The dog in front of you is done with the jerky, and it doesn't seem satisfied.
It starts barking at you again, as the hurt dog runs, but its attempt to bite is not serious.
With one dog less, you can pay more attention to the one at your right.
But it bites and holds to your leg eventually surpassing the protection the amulet gives you, its fangs nailing into your skin.
"Urrgg...you're trying my patience dogs!" he growled as the other bit into his leg, now having lost all patience when the one that ate his food still seemed to harbor distaste for him. Damn beasts, good companions if loyal to a worthy owner but stupid when they remain loyal to a clearly awful one. With another sweep of his blade, he made attempt to beat away both beasts with his magical weapon.
You swing your weapon hard and hit the dog in its snout with the blunt side of the scimitar. The animal moans and drops your leg, but doesn't stop attacking. You try attacking another one, but in that second your speed goes back to normal and you miss, confused for what happened.
The three dogs have filled the gap left by the one you hurted, and they are surrounding you again. Attacking from all sides.
The dog to your left bites your hand, making it bleed, as you concentrate in the other two.
The other dogs are all practically on you, and their fangs start getting closer to vital points. Your armor and your ring protect you well, but any mistake can be fatal. These foes are proving to be specially feral.
The young spell fencer growled in frustration as they seemed to press on even more. He had had enough of these creatures and was done holding back. It seemed they had did not fear his sword, so perhaps they would fear his magic. Stepping away quickly from them, he would whisper the anciest words of arcane power, twirling his blade while pointing out his palm towards one. He'd let out a ray of scorching fire, quickly directly his palm to the next dog before the second shot burst forth.
He'd growl again as he missed badly with the first shot in his rush, but the second would strike home, smirking as the heated energy hit the canine roughly.
You feel warmness in your hands. In a couple of seconds, two beams of fire will obliterate the dogs, but they don't seem willing to let that happen. The one you hit in the snout scratches your plate with its fangs, and the other one grabs your ankle while you focus in the others and the spell.
The dog bites your displaced image, and, before any of them can do anything else, two beams of red fire shoot from your hands. One of them bursts away from the fight, reducing the leaves of a tree to ashes, but the other hits one of the dogs, again on the snout, but producing a far more deadly effect.
The few fur in the dog burns away, along with its most of its skin, and it falls to the ground before it can howl or growl. Its breathing is slow and laboured.
Two dogs are left unharmed, but one of them barks a few times and runs away, scared by the fire.
The other one makes one last desperate attempt to take a good bite.
But it doesn't even come close to you.
Vincent wouldn't wait to give the dog another chance to join the one smart enough to run. He'd merely swing his blade down at the beast, attempting to either hit it or make it flee. He'd try to help the one laying at his feet if he could, but after this it was hardly a priority. More than anything, his rage bubbled at whoever or whatever had sent these dogs on him. For risking them like pawns in its game, he promise a slow death...free of charge.
You hit the dog with ease on the side of his head, hurting his ear and making him even angrier.
The dog takes a few steps back , feinting bites and barking, but not retreating.
"You've chosen a poor time to pick loyalty over life mutt! Vincent snarled at the creature, his mercy for its life now extinguised as he swung at the creature angrily, looking now to injury it or push it back but now to end its life. His now rage at the creature would cause him to swing less precise as he was normally capable off, causing him to miss both his swings.
You miss the dog, but, as it jumps to its right to avoid the blade of your scimitar, you have another chance of attacking.
Swinging again at the dodging beast, Vincent would feel the glancing blow connect some, the man hoping to finally put the damn dog down for good. This one had been the biggest pain of the pack, and he would be glad to send the thing off to hell.
You thrust the scimitar ahead hard, and it penetrates under the dog's neck, half of the blade dissapearing under its skin and muscle. When you pull your bloody weapon back, he falls to the ground, unconscious and barely breathing.
Vincent would kneel down, checking on the two dogs that lie on his feet on after the other, working to attempt to stop their bleeding. The stupid beasts had infuriated him, but he knew it wasn't truly their faults. They were animals, and with the right care and treatment they could be taught against whatever they had been up to.
After doing what he could, he'd glance up at the treeline, half expecting an ogre or some other creature to show up, likely the owner of these creatures. He had words, or moreso, actions to take up with the owner. Vincent would slice his throat and leave him for the crows if he showed up.
It is unfortunately too late for the dog you burned, he's already dead.
You inmediately head to the other, and ripping out a piece of your robes, you try to stop the bleeding. The wound is big, though, and it doesn't seem like he will recover, until the talisman in your neck starts glowing, and the hemorrhage suddenly stops.
The dog is not in immediate danger, but you start hearing many deep, guttural voices coming from the forest, almost shouting, and then, heavy steps, crushing the leaves and the mud.
Vincent smirked as he heard the footsteps, stepping over and away from the dog to face his incoming enemy. His sword was out and ready, his eyes watching the treeline and his body at the ready. He whispered a spell under his breath, swinging the blade as part of the components as cast a mirror image spell as he had in his dream. He would wait for the ugly thing. He had such anger to unleash.
A misshapen, gray-skinned monster, about 10 feet tall and with a bulbous and reddish nose comes out of the woods. He is holding a greatsword, and wears only short brown pants, a green cape and a grey hide covering the upper part of his back. At his feet, a black wolf, quite bigger than the dogs you just fought and just as angry, stares at you, drooling.
The ogre bellows, and the two beasts prepare to attack.
"Bought time you showed yourself you ugly, stupid thing. I'm gonna make you regret making me work for free. Don't worry though, your punishment is worth being free of charge!" he growled at the creature after casting his spell. He would remain close, not wanting to give the creature too running room to come barreling at him, but still moved away from the cliff edge, not wanting to be knocked off. His eyes would remain on the ogre, prepared to do all in his power to drop it.
You open your hand and the figments of light that go away from it instantly turn into exact copies of yourself. When you talk, they follow the words so exactly it looks like only one person had growled.
The beast looks at you confused, babbling uncomprensible words. He steps further into the road while he retrieves a bow and two arrows from the back of his cape.
"DIE!" he shouts just before shooting.
It looks like he knows a bit of Common.
The first arrow hits one of your doubles right between the eyes, and the image dissapears instantly. The second one lands in your chest, nailing into your armor.
The black wolf, much better fed than the dogs, runs to you and tries to land a bite, still under the shadow of the trees.
Its hungry snout rips the arrow out of your chestplate, but it does not hurt you.
With three images left, Vincent chose to ignore the wolf and what it could be capable of in favor of the grotesque archer. He charged the ugly thing, calling upon his latent pool once more not to enter his battle state, but instead to empower his weapon for the moment. He could feel his eldritch magic channel into his weapon, empowering its bite and keening its edge. With his magic flaring and his anger boiling, he charged headlong into the brute, swinging his blade for his exposed flesh.
You run to the ogre. Jumping to a side to avoid the wolf, you don't pay much attention to the attack of the ogre, who hits you in the chest with his huge sword, leaving you breathless and in pain, but still able to return the attack, swinging the scimitar under the thick skin and pushing hard, leaving a slash in the ogre going from one side of his chest to the other.
You are dizzy from the hit, and you can see your copies staggering, which means you are too.
The ogre, with an evil grimace on his face, attacks again, splitting the head of one of your copies in two, and cutting across the belly of another with a thrust. For a second, before they dissapear, you can see what could have happened to you if the had gotten the right person.
The monster shouts a command, and the wolf jumps behind the last illusion, destroying it. It is now only you against your foes.
Hardly willing to back down against the ugly beasts and its companion, Vincent channeled more of his eldritch power. He would reactivate the energies of his blood, calling for the Displacement energy as well as a hardend shell of the spell Protection from arrows. With the spells in place, he'd swing at the ogre, looking to take down the more dangerous target swiftly in order rid himself of the headache it caused. He wouldn't let the ugly creature go that easily though, preparing to combat with his spell, his first swing coming in hard with the channeled power of a shocking grasp spell.
You slash the ogre again, and you feel a pull in your elbow as the electricity shocks him.
"Graaaah!" he shouts, dropping his sword. The coward beast runs up the road. Followed by his wolf, they are trying to escape.
In front of you, the greatsword is making strange clanking sounds.
Vincent would glance at the blade, before returning his gaze to the fleeing ogre. His stare cold, he'd raise his palm high, pointing it at the back of the fleeing brute. "No...the wolf can live, but you will not. That is the price you pay for your mistreatment of dogs and assault on my person," he growled, not loud enough though for the running ogre to hear before beginning the chant of a spell, calling forth the power of the Scorching ray spell.
It would be after his attack that he would reach down for the blade, if the beast still hadn't fallen after his parting gift he wouldn't hunt it down. It would have earned its life back after such a blast, though he doubted it would make it.
The first ray hits the ogre in the side of the head, and the second in the leg, you hear him scream, but he keeps running with his wolf. You walk back to the sword, but, when you grab the hilt, the blade detaches, and a glass bottle falls to the ground from somewhere inside the handle. It is half-full with a brownish liquid.
Vincent would give the liquid a disgusted look, holding the bottle up and shaking it. He certainly didn't immediately recognize it, daring to open it and risk the smell in order to attempt to decipher what its contents were. He was prepared to reattach the handle after, not wanting to let the ugly beast recover its blade, though he was sure it was a goner.
A few bubbles appear when you shake the bottle, but the liquid has no smell at all.
Vincent would try to used detect magic and identify what the liquid was. He'd observe it for a moment, concentrating on the vial as if the contents would be of some concern. Lucky him it hadn't smelled of something foul, but he had to wonder what could that ogre have worth hiding.
When you say the spell, you immediately feel the aura waves. The liquid is a potion, and it seems like it was made by a very powerful magician. You feel many waves coming every second, making you a bit dizzy, but the exact nature of the potion is not identifiable.