The Jungle Frontier: A "The Novice" Tribute Story

Part 6: Cold

The world was hazy and indistinct. 

It was difficult to focus on anything. A constant ringing disrupted any attempts at coherent thought. It was more than a little scary.

Where am I? 

What happened?

His thoughts only became more panicked and blurred as his senses, which were just coming back to him, began to dull once more. The light that had been slowly growing brighter in his eyes dimming rapidly. The one sense that he seemed to retain was sound and as his other senses dulled he began to hear sounds he had heard before with growing clarity. Sounds he wished to never hear again.

Screams of panic and terror struggling to overcome the sound of fire and death as buildings collapsed and people were slaughtered within a town burning to the ground. The war cries of orcs and the calls of monsters.

The monsters were the worst. Eerie howls, rattling hisses, earthshaking roars and disturbing clicking made up the bulk of the cacophony produced by the Orc demons. The worst of all was the bird-like cries of a beast he would later come to know as the Nue. The unseen monsters cries shook him to his core and made him want to throw up even now in this dream. When he heard the cries he realised he was partially reliving the worst day of his life. 

Pressure build in his chest and Dustan woke from the hallucination. He realised he was choking and he felt his chest start heaving as he coughed warm fluid out of his lungs. Struggling to force his eyelids apart and clear the dried blood caked on them, Dustan managed to finally see the world around him, although the haze that had taken over his senses had not completely faded.

The first thing he realised was the warm fluid he had coughed up before, the fluid which was now drying on his lips, was his own blood. It was all he could taste and if he could guess it was probably filling one or both of his lungs. He could hardly breathe.

The second was that he couldn't get up.

Dustan could feel that he was in a seated position and every attempt to move was met with a strong, forceful pressure in the left side of his body. He desperately tried to turn his head so he could see what was wrong. When he finally processed what he was seeing it felt like a punch to the gut. He was dead, no question. His body just hadn't realised it yet.

A massive Orc spear, likely thicker than his own arm, had impaled him straight through the left side of his chest and was now stuck fast in what Dustan assumed was a tree, leaving him trapped in a seated position and left to bleed to death.

Dustan began to panic as the haze clouding his thought lifted and the gravity of his situation hit him. The pain began to hit him too as the numb state of his body and injuries caused by his adrenalin and passing out wore off. 

Dying like this? It terrified him. The panic quickly took over his thought and Dustan desperately looked for any way he could escape the horrible death that faced him. As his senses cleared Dustan's surroundings came into focus. A darkened grove of trees lit only by patches of moonlight getting through the canopy above, filled with flat rocks covered in mud and crushed plants and grasses. 

In his panic Dustan noticed one of the rocks covered in mud rested near his arm, shrouded in the darkness of the night, and picked it upon the hope that he could use it to dislodge the spear pinning him to the tree. If he could get the spear off the tree he could maybe get to safety. 

Gripping the rock Dustan raised his arm, preparing to desperately break the spear and free himself, however the movement sent a jolt of pain coursing through his body. Dustan gasped in shock and dropped the rock, which hit the ground with a wet thump.