Trial by Combat

There was no small amount of luck required for John's plan to work. Firstly, both Gnolls needed to have arrows at the ready and looking in his direction and, secondly, his target had to not have moved far from when he had last seen it. From there his plan required the terrain between the two to be passable and, lastly, John needed to not trip on the way. In defiance of the odds, it went off without a hitch. The problem from there, however, was what to do afterwards.

Knives equipped, John knocked most of the wind out of himself when he collided with a large, furry, and decidedly stinky obstacle. A startled grunt followed, but was cut off into a garbled yelp as a thin blade jabbed at its side.

8 damage, piercing
7 damage, piercing
8 damage, piercing
6 damage, piercing

Both of John's knives came back with streaks of blood as he repeatedly stabbed the Gnoll. The action was more akin to a child pounding on a door amidst a tantrum than it was a display of skill or precision, but it did the job. He could see well enough now to catch the Gnoll's grisly maw closing in for a chomp at his shoulder and took an imbalanced step back to avoid it.

-9 hp

But that didn't help him avoid the following swipe of the monster's claw, jagged and covered in filth. His armor suffered the worst of it, sporting three new gashes that revealed corresponding cuts in his side. John hissed in response to the pain as the Gnoll yelped out the strangely cackle-like call indicative of its species. John swore. If its friend didn't know where they were, it did now.

He didn't allow that to distract him from the situation in front of him, however. John backpedaled a bit more when the Gnoll grabbed a hatchet off its hip and swung its limb outwards for a powerful but clumsy chop. It was much closer than John was comfortable with, if one could really be considered comfortable with an axe flying at them. He'd grown used to fighting Adelle, and his only other experience against humanoids was against the diminutive Kobolds and Goblins. Well, there had been Golem, but it was so massive that it didn't really qualify. Lazakall and Adelle had been his only human sized opponents so far, and even then the former had fought more like a beast than a man. Altogether, John realized he hadn't accounted for how disproportionately long the Gnoll's arms were, maybe six or so inches longer than a Human's, by his estimate. It was a mistake that could have been lethal. John processed his enemy's appearance with what little time the opening provided him.

-
Gnawgrime Hunter
Level 5 Gnoll Ranger
One of the natives of the Crystalline Caverns, skilled in tracking and archery. Although Gnolls in general love the smell of rot and musk, the Gnawgrime in particular revel in being as filthy as possible.
-

Gross

The creature before him was a little below John’s height, but that was only because it stood with legs bent and a permanent hunch. Its too-long arms hung low enough that its too-large hands ended at the knees. Each hand bore stout, sharp claws blackened by dirt, one of which now dripped with John's blood. Overall, its shaggy, coarse fur was grey and mottled with blacks and browns, but a thick, black mane ran in a stripe from forehead to spine like an untamed mohawk. It wore little in the way of clothing, a crude shirt of improperly tanned leather and a matching loin cloth held together by some kind of twine. Its face, teeth bared in an expression indistinguishable between a grin and a grimace, was more hyena-like than not, with its only human-like traits being a pronounced brow, cheekbones, and a spark of intelligence in its eyes.

But none of those traits were nearly as attention grabbing as the stench. Dear lord, the stench. John retched upon the first nausea inducing whiff and resolved to breathe through his mouth as much as possible. It was like a stew of rotten eggs, sweaty socks, vomit, and roadkill, all left to ferment for a week next to the dump and thick enough to taste on the air. John was all but certain that a noseful of eau d’Gnoll would be enough to knock him out cold and, by the way his opponent’s mouth curled at the edges, it knew it too. John could see its grip tighten; it was time to fight for real.

The ensuing exchange of chops, slashes, and sidesteps taught John that Gnolls weren’t particularly nimble. There was clear power in their musculature, but they were awkward creatures, topheavy and inflexible. All of this was useful information, but what caught John most by surprise was his ability to process it all in such a short amount of time, while also focusing his attention on staying alive. For once, he felt like all the rigorous training he’d been through was actually paying off. Erica constantly hounded John to observe Adelle every time she was instructed to adopt a new guard, scolding him more often than not for missing something supposedly obvious that would have prevented him from making a mistake. He never felt as if he was getting much better at it, but when the cards hit the table, John put his lessons into practice as if on instinct. He was proud of himself. He was sure Erica would be too - at least until he heard a distant twang and felt a burning impact of fierce pain near his spine.

-12 hp

The **** of the arrow caused John to lurch forward, directly into the incoming axe that definitely broke a rib or two in the process of burying itself in his side.

-17 hp

Okay, maybe not that proud.

John extricated himself and wheeled backwards for a little breathing room. Therein lay a problem, breathing hurt quite a lot. The pain in his side was ebbing as Gamer’s Body did its work, but there was no such relief for his back. A hot ache radiated from the puncture point, courtesy of the arrow sticking out of his torso. The pain worsened whenever he moved and broke through any attempts to ignore it and focus. John winced as he stowed away a knife and reached back and groped for the shaft. In the normal world, he knew this could be a terrible idea, but this wasn’t the normal world, so he gripped tight, grit his teeth, and yanked backward.

“Fuck, shit, damn, piss, FUCK!”

His last swear came out garbled as he coughed up some surprisingly viscous blood, but the arrow pulled free and clattered to the ground. There was no time for self congratulatory reassurances, given that his opponent had taken the time to close in again. John backstepped a horizontal swing, re-equipped his dagger in a reverse grip, and slashed upward at the Gnoll's outstretched arm.

3 damage, slashing

Moira was right, John could feel how much thicker the skin on its limbs were. Still, John was happy to acknowledge that landing the retaliatory strike meant he'd gotten used to the Gnoll's range of motion. He felt the unfamiliar swell of confidence in his chest and smirked, but some switch in his head flipped, and he set his lips tight. John did his best to tamp down his cockiness, lest he become sloppy. Erica taught him better than that.

John heard the telltale twang of the second Gnoll loosing an arrow and hurled himself clumsily to the side, putting in an effort to exaggerate his movements. The arrow soared overhead, a clean miss even if he hadn't dodged, but the Gnoll he was engaged with saw the opening John's apparent lack of balance provided and chopped down, hard. Prepared, John's eyes flicked to meet the Gnoll's and he swung his left arm up, backhanded and grip reversed.

15 damage, slashing

The blade plunged into the pit of the creature's arm, all the way down to the hilt. It killed the momentum of the attack. John felt the Gnoll's arm fall limp and the axe bounce harmlessly off his back. As much as John was surprised that it was still alive, the Gnoll was likewise too shocked to react. John clenched his eyes shut and gouged out its throat with Black Claw's hooked blade.

14 damage, slashing
+60 exp!

The splash of hot blood over his face told John all he needed to know, even without seeing the damage numbers. Instinctively, he pivoted the now dead Gnoll's weight to get it between himself and its partner, already nauseated by the stench despite holding his breath. Another twang was followed by the dull thud of an arrow hitting the corpse and an ululating howl of rage. John heaved the body aside with all the strength he could muster and charged headlong towards his remaining assailant. One second into his charge, he remembered to run serpentine, and was rewarded by not getting stuck with another arrow as it shot through his former position. He was running mostly blind, only able to use the direction the arrows were coming from as a guide, and that had become a lot harder now that he was travelling in an erratic zig zag. The tactic worked, until an unseen rock formation caught John's foot and he spilled to the ground. He tried to scramble to his feet and get moving again as fast as possible, but it wasn't quick enough.

-11 hp

John felt the sharp pain in his thigh just as he was getting back to his feet. His wounded leg gave out as a result, and he flopped back onto the cold, stone ground chin first, narrowly avoiding chomping his tongue off. He groaned, head still rattled from the impact and muscles aching for reasons including but not limited to there being an arrow lodged into one of them. Quiet pounding drew his attention. The Gnoll had tossed its bow to the ground and was rushing forward while John was ****. It unsheathed a thick, rust-flecked blade, somewhere between a machete and a butcher's cleaver, and let out a loud, reverberating cackle as it ran. Without any time to get up, John rolled sideways to avoid becoming tomorrow's deli meat, towards the Gnoll. He winced and shouted when the arrow in his leg met the ground. It snapped, but not before being driven further into his leg. Meanwhile, he collided with the Gnoll's shin, and unwittingly caught a whiff of its scent. They smelled horrible enough face to face, but the foul stench emanating from the creature's… undercarriage was enough to make John vomit some of his breakfast onto the cavern floor. Fortunately, the Gnoll tumbled to the ground, yipping and yelping until it rolled to a stop. Both of them took the chance to shake off their disorientation and stood, squaring off. The terrain was clear, with naught but a thick stalagmite jutting up some distance behind the Gnoll. Any other features were too far away and too shrouded in darkness for John to see.

This Gnoll was a little more wiry than the first, but that didn't necessarily mean it was less deadly. John could clearly see how dense the muscles in its limbs were, tensed to strike. They circled each other for a few seconds, Gnoll snarling and John staring until some of the blood covering his face threatened to drip into his eyes. He instinctively wiped his brow with the back of his hand, obscuring his vision enough for the Gnoll to take the cue to charge. John knew he had made a mistake the moment his hand met his forehead, but it was too late to do anything about it. Vision cleared again, John wheeled backwards, thigh screaming in pain, to maintain enough room for him to hurl his steel dagger at the charging Gnoll. There was a sharp bark of pain.

10 damage, piercing

It landed clean, just below the collar on the Gnoll's right side, its dominant side. Good, John reasoned, at least now they both had wounds limiting their mobility. Not enough to stop the charge, much to John's chagrin. He narrowly avoided the incoming blow with a sidestep, then flubbed an attempt to retaliate as the Gnoll continued past. Down to only Black Claw, John knew that he needed to get within the overgrown hyena's elongated range, he couldn't afford to throw his one remaining weapon. Its bite was an additional problem, however, an extra layer of offense even within the creature's guard.

"Maybe I should have stuck with a glaive," John muttered. He shook his head. "Nevermind," he said, then shouted, "Come on, fleabag, show me what you've got!"

Easily roused, the Gnoll took the initiative once more and rushed John. He braced himself, deliberately telegraphing another sidestep, then crouched at the last moment to spring forward, below the Gnoll's overhanded chop. He held his knife high as the Gnoll's muzzle shot downwards, wide open for an almost certainly disease ridden bite, but it met only the petrified blade of Black Claw. John wrenched to his right and the hooked edge caught the monster's jowls and tore out a chunk of its cheek. It howled in agony while John prepared to pivot around the Gnoll, stooped low, to try and cut out its knee from behind, but he was stopped dead by an impact that **** the air from his lungs and a blazing pain that shot through his entire system.

12 damage, slashing

-20 hp

The Gnoll had buried John's own dagger into his back, freshly yanked from the creature's furry, filthy chest. It knew he was feinting the dodge and was prepared to counter strike, even if it couldn't prevent the incoming attack. John fell to his knees and cursed loudly and repeatedly. Moira had warned him not to try the same trick twice, but he had forgotten in the heat of the moment. It took all of his willpower to **** himself to scramble forward and back on his feet, wounded leg throbbing in pain all the while, and the blade in his back **** him to draw in only short, staccato breaths. He peered back and saw the Gnoll likewise reeling from its own immense pain, holding a paw to its mangled face. John didn't have the strength to make another attack, he could barely stand. With one last glance at the Gnoll, he sprinted for the stalagmite for cover. He would have screamed the whole way if he could afford the breath, injuries radiating pain throughout his body, but he could barely inhale enough to endure the burst of motion. His vision was darkening at the edges and pulsing with his heartbeat by the time he reached the rock formation and spun himself around to get behind it. There was no way it didn't know where he was, not with its ability to see in the dark, keen sense of smell, and the sound of John's labored panting. Safe as he was for the moment, John knew he had bought himself a few seconds at most. He tried to summon up enough focus to come up with even the beginnings of a plan. Surprise had been his friend so far, but how could he surprise an enemy he could not see, but knew his location?

That's it!

John closed his eyes and tapped into Lifesense. He may have griped about its two meter maximum range when he first got it, but two meters was more than enough in this situation. He didn't detect anything yet, which was a good sign. John knelt to tug off his boot, hastily and painfully. It was just as he'd gotten it off that a small blip of awareness popped into his brain. Somehow, not in a way John could really understand, it gave him an awareness of where the Gnoll was in relation to him. It was drawing nearer, slowly, silently. Strain as he might, John couldn't hear its approach over the sound of his heartbeat pounding in his ears. But then again, he didn't need to. He quietly nudged the boot off to one side, the side marginally closer to where the Gnoll was. He crouched low on the other, muscles taut, and hoped his foe would take the bait.

Maybe it was luck, maybe the Gnoll had seen the boot first as planned, or maybe it had sniffed out the powerful odor of not-quite-properly taken care of footwear, but when a rusty cleaver swung into view, it hit bare stone above the boot rather than John's face. A CLANG resounded through the caverns from the **** of the blow and John tightened his backhanded grip on Black Claw. He sprung into action the instant the Gnoll's snout peeked around the corner to see what had happened, arcing his arm upwards, aiming the claw's wicked point for its chin.

"Bye."

Sneak Attack!
32 damage, piercing
+60 exp

Reinforced by John's other hand, the tip pierced between the creature's jawbone, through its tongue, and into its brain. There was no flash of recognition on the Gnoll's face, no acknowledgement of what had happened, only a brief glimpse of the life fading from its eyes before it crumpled to the ground, dead. Letting out a deep, painful sigh, John followed suit, and slumped down against the stalagmite. He let his head fall back against the cold stone and waited.

-
<Skill Level Up!>
Lifesense Lv. 2
-

Some amount of time passed; John couldn't be sure how much. Everything was still swimming in a haze of adrenalin and exhaustion. He was still focusing on breathing when the corpse beside him abruptly lurched and flopped onto its side. John jerked in panic and surprise, fearing some unseen threat, but a familiar boot planted itself on the fallen Gnoll's chest. Moira Brighton stared down at him with a look of appraisal on her face, but a faint smile peeked through. She knelt and offered John a gauntleted hand.

"You did well, Newman."