Headed by a Snake

459 Fearsome Fist

The gorgon half-collapsed, its front hooves kneeling onto the stones with loud metal bangs.

"GRAHH!!" Furious, the bull-centaur swiped his thick-muscled arm out, back-handing Ariadne away and the fully-petrified Bannok statue away.

"You... (disgusting... pink-skinned filth...)" His metallic hands clawed at the ground, scraping lines into the Dungeon stone... "I'll crush you... to PIECES!!!"

The horned creature raised its fist up high above the defiant Karodin, snorting in a deep breath...

The human stood his ground, shield at the ready, sword poised to strike... He was the exemplar of a perfect Tyrion Legionnaire, his will unwavering, his courage beyond reason or logic.

Tycondrius would not allow him to die this sun.

"Stand STRONG!!!" Tycon bellowed, "Legionnaire KARODINNN!!!!"

⟬ ⌈Jumping Knee Counter⌋ activated. Reaction ability. Targeted ally's physical defenses are improved against a single attack. Target is compelled to make an instantaneous unarmed strike against an enemy with increased accuracy. ⟭

Something felt like it snapped in Tycon's head. His headache eased slightly and he felt a line of blood drip down his nose. It was reckless of him to activate a second skill while his movement speed was increased by his ⌈Shadowfang Strike⌋...

The gorgon's heavy fist slammed against Karodin's shield, the metal-on-metal clang reverberating throughout the cavernous Dungeon. Screaming like a madman, Legionnaire Karodin thrust his sword into the gorgon's bull-nose, then slammed his Tyrion shield into the side of the creature's head. Holding onto his shield with both hands... Karodin thrust it upward, striking the underside of the bull-centaur's chin and turning its gaze skyward.

Tycon ended his stealth effect in front of the gorgon, between its front hooves... and he sank his short sword deep in its abdomen.

Urging his body to move faster than he could think, he drew his long curved blade, slicing in an arc above him. With the creature's throat slit, he was showered in the beast's filthy blood.

Finally, he threw his adamantine scabbard at Karodin's shield. The human didn't even have time to yelp in surprise before being sent sliding across the stones from the impact... to safety.

If he could survive a Gold-Rank rear kick from a near twenty-fulm tall magical metal bull, he... should reasonably be able to survive that, too.

Then... the gorgon breathed its last breath... and Tycon was shrouded in the noxious green gas...

...

⟬ Some time later... ⟭

Karodin of Emberhold ran his hands down his sturdy tower shield. A vicious crack ran down its center from where the Tactician threw... something at it. He would abandon it in the Halls of the Dead Serpent... replacing it with one of the too-many shields from the fallen.

It felt like he lost something... lost a lot, actually.

Felinus had died.

He and the Elven Hunter hadn't really spoken much... and the guy only appeared when he wanted to... and honestly, Karodin was a little creeped out that he was friends with what seemed like a ghost.

...but Felinus was an integral part of the Brazen Guard. And it was nice to think that an allied Gold-Rank was watching from the shadows, no matter how pointed his ears were.

And Bannok...

Karodin shook his head... but was suddenly overcome by a fit of coughing.

He stifled it with his hand... opening it after. Dimly lit by the Dungeon's luminance, his hand was covered in blood.

He had internal injuries, for sure. It had been a little hard to breathe... so that made sense.

Was it darker than normal blood? That would be bad...

"Karodin..." Ptolema gently cooed, approaching him from behind... "You need to see a healer."

He silently cursed to himself. He wasn't able to hide his injuries from his wife... That meant he could expect a few bells of her well-meaning nagging.

"What, this?" Karodin put on a smile, hiding his hand behind his back. It was always easy to smile around her... "I'm fine, for now... There are others with more severe injuries. More importantly, how are you? Are you fine?"

"Have you seen my face?" Ptolema sighed, betraying a soft smile, "It feels like it's on fire. Is it starting to scab yet?"

"Still as beautiful as the day I first saw you," Karodin bowed his head... which he wished he hadn't, because a sharp pain jolted through his chest. He probably had a broken rib or two. He was in such a good mood, seeing Ptolema, that he'd honestly forgotten...

The Duelist rolled her eyes, "Back then, my hair was so short, you thought I was a man."

"Well, I mean after," Karodin bared his teeth.

He was really no good at talking to women... especially the one woman he liked.

"It's fine..." Ptolema glanced to her left and right... then she shyly and stealthily kissed Karodin on the cheek.

Warmth flooded his heart. That was all the healing he needed.

"I don't trust that Flame-taken Tactician..." A too-loud voice echoed off the walls. It came from one of the guild huddles, nearby.

Just when Karodin thought everything was going to be alright, Anger immediately welled up in his chest-- anger intermixed with the pain of his fractured ribs. Who would be so stupid to talk that way about the Brazen Guard's best chance for survival?

"It's not worth it, Karodin," Ptolema hardened her gaze.

Ahhh... Even when she was upset, she was cute.

"It is, to me."

Karodin swept off his armor and began walking towards where he'd heard the voice, "Hey! What are you guys talking about?!"

The huddle opened up, allowing him in.

Looking around, Karodin identified the voice as belonging to the guild leader of the Brightstars, a veteran Iron-Rank Scout named Pavlos.

"Hey, Karodin-- we were just talkin' about--"

"And before you tell me..." Karodin took a deep breath... "I wanna know who the f*ck you think you are?"

"What the?" The Scout's smile fell into a confused grimace... "I'm a Flamescarred leader of a guild that's been with the collective for twelve years, Karodin. You can't talk to me like that! I have *seniority* over you."

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