webnovel

The Unusual Shepherd

Follow Seth into a world of Chaos and Order, where Daemons and humans wage war and the blood of a slain foe empowers your abilities and talents. Magic and Will can be manipulated by the strong, shaping the world and enslaving the weak. Monsters and cosmic horrors lurk in the shadows of Silva's landscape, promising a painful death to prey or the glimmer of unimaginable loot for the triumphant. In the hourglass of time, the alignment of Gods is shifting with the sands. The human settlements, once beacons of high society, now teeter upon the precipice of moral decay, descending into cesspools of sin and indulgence. The horns of Daemon hordes resound on the distant horizon, signalling the abandonment of tribal strife in favour of a unified empire. From the ether and unknown, a secret hand tips the hourglass for their personal gain. Reaving the sacrificed and empowering new legends with a trickle of substance and a torrent of deceitful promises. I no longer upload on Webnovel, please follow the link to the book on RoyalRoad. https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/69924/the-unusual-shepherd

Chaperone_Tales · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
12 Chs

A Dance with Death

It charges with an unnerving speed and silent stride, powerful legs pumping underneath as it clears the long tent in a breath. It leaps like a bird-of-prey diving out the sky, talons first. I hold the Xiphos sideways, hoping to put as much metallic surface area between me and the raptors' sickle-shaped claws. It collides like a scaley comet, my weak arms fold under the impact, my own blade lashes backwards to cut open my right cheek, barely missing my eye. A maelstrom of colours and blurry shapes consumes my vision as I fly through the air. landing hard on the ground, my head hits a bag with force, fortunately, it was full of soft bedding.

My concussed brain slowly registers my hand is empty, where is my sword? I roll over expecting another furious attack, no claws come this time. A crashing noise draws my eyes across the room, the 4ft tall green dinosaur is writhing at the other end of the tent. Caught amongst the leather, it was now going ballistic with frustration, claws and talons lashing out, shredding and ripping the fabric.

I scan the contents of the room and see a smoking pile of bedding and baggage with my Xiphos's hilt sticking out. Why the hell is there smoke? Gracelessly, I scramble on all fours across the floor and seize the handle. Standing tall and thinking courageous thoughts, I yank my sword out of the pile and reveal a neon blade shimmering on one side.

Holy Excalibur, I have a magic sword. I move the blade before me, leaving red lines in the air. Bringing the blade closer to inspect the edge, I notice the glowing side is dripping with my blood. An intense heat radiates off like a blazing oven.

I focus back on the raptor, its crazed movements were intensifying as its entanglement prolonged. The fabric is mere ribbons now, however the rope holding the tent together is tightly wrapped around its powerful body. All that frantic straining has ensnared the beast further and the rough rope was beginning to cut into soft flesh.

Good, I have no qualms with killing a trapped animal, especially one that would rip me apart.

Advancing on the raptor with my shimmering blade held before me, ignited my confidence. I should be careful, a cornered beast can be even more dangerous.

As if hearing my thoughts, the beast's reptilian eyes clock my movements.

I recognise the red eyes, they perfectly mimic the Guardian's that almost attacked us. I see pure rage and destruction pulsing through them. I'm close enough now to observe its physiology more clearly without being lacerated. Chitinous plates cover the front of the raptor, from the bottoms of its long shins to the top of its large head. The plates and leathery skin underneath warp and mix with browns and greens that would make the animal invisible amongst Silva's underbrush. The only colours on the raptor that would stand out in the forest are its red eyes and the gleaming blood covering its claws, snout and tail.

A thin trail catches my eye, I concentrate on the wet blood splatter across its tail and see thin red smoke wisping off. That looks exactly like -

The raptor suddenly lurches with its mighty body, causing the whole tent to sway.

If this thing comes down on me, I could be trapped with it.

The rope wrapped around its entire body severely restricts any movement though it could still attack if it weren't for the main knot connecting its left arm to a tent pole and peg. The raptor's enraged brain and survival instincts kick into overdrive and it begins to gnaw the rope and arm. Blood flows through the rows of razor sharp teeth.

Mother help me, I need to end this thing now.

I rush forward just in time to see the neon blade snuff out, along with my confidence. A loud snap signals the raptors freedom, one arm now attached with only a slither of muscle and skin.

The creature charges, jaws wide open and displaying serrated teeth. I swing my dull blade in a full arc, aiming for those fiery eyes. The chitinous plate protecting the eye deflects the blade away, the impact causes the raptor's head to snap away from its target, me.

My ricocheted slash leaves me unbalanced and stumbling, the experienced predator recovers in a heartbeat and lashes out with razor sharp front claws.

Lucky for me the reptile attacks with its mangled left arm, clearly forgetting about what condition it's currently in. The muscular stump jerks forward at my vulnerable neck, only for the remaining skin and flesh connecting the clawed forearm to tear away. The dinosaur roars in rage and pain as the arm flies across the tent, a fresh spray of blood paints my bear poncho and my face. I taste the metallic blood in my mouth and spit it back at the raptor's face. Not sure I should be baiting the already raging beast. If I can just get behind, I can hit the unprotected areas on its back where the plate ends.

It squats slightly for what I anticipate is another leaping attack, I step sideways and swing my blade, hoping to catch its back mid-flight.

The raptor has another move, its muscular leg snaps up and down in ferocious hammer kick, hoping to cleave me down the middle with those giant talons.

The side step saves my life from being split in two. My poorly judged swing leaves my naked arms in the talons path, the flesh on my recently healed forearm parts like an overpacked sausage. Blood geysers out as my swinging momentum doesn't connect with anything solid. The pain shocks my system causing me to drop my sword, I stumble away while cradling my gushing limb. The raptor whips its long body around and clubs my ribs with its thick tail. My thick poncho reduces some of the force stopping my entire torso from shattering.

I slam the ground hard and like a scared child I protect myself in the foetal position.

I'm screwed, there's no Piia here to save me this time.

The raptor lashes at my body with its bloody talon, the poncho saves me again and somehow stops the razor sharp claws from maiming me further.

Now I'm the cornered animal and karma's laughing in the back.

Screw dying on the floor like a rodent, I'm the motherfucking Shepherd. I was brought to this world to be a hero by a God. I grab the imp dagger from my belt.

Sensing my protective wear, the raptor snaps its mighty jaws at my exposed throat, hoping to finally end this.

I stab hard and my aim is true. The dagger slots just between the plate armour and into its soft eye-ball, popping like an overripe tomato.

Its screech almost ruptures my eardrums, I feel the animal's pain second hand. It lurches around in a panic and slaps me across the face with its tail.

My brain shakes in my skull, dazed and wounded, I think I've won the battle.

I look up and see the tent shaking violently, ready to collapse. The raptor is spinning around trying to pull the dagger from its eye socket, but its short forearms can't reach it.

I see the rage still burning in its remaining eye, how long do I have before it's focused back on me? I need to kill this thing now.

Forcing my exhausted broken body to stand, feeling light headed my vision swims.

Don't pass out, you will never wake up.

The smell of thick smoke invades my nostrils, waking a primal reaction in me, fire. It must be close since the tent is filled with a haze. I look around and see a bonfire beginning in the Daemon's baggage and bedding.

My blade sits at its source, crimson neon edges shining through the blaze. The magic is back. I stumble over like a patron after an all night bender and shield myself against the excessive heat. I look between the frenzied, distracted raptor and my salvation encased in fire. I can just run while the beast performs its dance of suffering and rage. The predator catches my look and focuses its berserk mind. It launches towards me.

Now trapped against the inferno, my hesitation killed any chance of flight.

I seize the pommel, burning flesh and pain engulfs my hand as I swing in a blind hail mary. The Xiphos passes through the chitinous plates, lean muscles and hardy bone as if they were made of air, severing the raptor's skull. A bright neon line briefly remains, marking my gambit swing. Anticipating resistance that didn't come, I overbalance and topple over, fluking a last second dodge as the dinosaur's body passes mine with the momentum of its attack, plunging into a self imposed cremation. The flames amplify with the accepted sacrifice, embers explode as the blaze licks the top of the tent. I roll away from the intense heat, the smell of my burning skin adding to the overpowering odours of the camp.

I crawl away, stopping at a questionable safe distance from the flames, I feel my heart pounding with adrenaline from another near death experience.

I hold the blade before me, watching until the lights dull and the metal instantly cools.

How did I activate the magic? I think about each time the crimson neon has previously ignited, all the way back to the sword's original owner.

Ramhead had waved his hands over it in a strange gesture, but I never did anything even similar.

Looking deep into the gunmetal I see a distorted reflection of myself in the metal, only obscured by rivers of dried blood.

Ramhead had showered the blade in his blood, as I have each time.

I peer into my own flowing blood that was still leaking heavily onto the floor, my adrenaline was declining rapidly with it.

The fight, loss of bodily fluids and lack of clean air were leaving me drowsy. I pull my mind back to reality, the ceiling has succumbed to the expanding bonfire, with me still inside. I look around for the nearest exit and see a slashed hole close by. I crawl through the suffocating air, anticipating the fresh air outside. I concentrate on staying conscious and moving forward, my hand lands on hard, warm flesh.

Would you like to loot Verox?

I barely see the outline of the velociraptor's severed forearm lying before me.

I try to form saliva to spit on its remains, my parched throat is too dry from the smoke.

"Enjoy death, you overgrown chicken." I feel no guilt for ending its life. This wasn't an animal trying to survive and predate naturally, this beast was deranged with rage. I slap the raptor's foot and loot it.

Loot added to inventory

Imp dagger

Verox vambraces

Verox talons

I don't waste time inspecting my new loot, I have to get out of this tent before I die from asphyxiation. Crawling through the gap and into the open world, I suck down the freshest air in thick gulps, whoever thinks air has no taste needs to sit in a confined space with fire burning in the corner.

A pleasant breeze flows through the camp and begins to cool me down. My eyes stream with tears from the haze and the traumatic dance with death I find myself frequently partaking in.

"Seth!" Piia races across the open centre of the camp.

"Piia, are you okay?" I see two of her crouching down next to me, I'm slipping out of reality here.

"Mother's blessing Seth, what happened? Let me see your arm." She turns my arm over and grimaces at the sight.

"I need to dress this. Mother will provide in the forest, but not in this tainted Daemon world." She says with worry. Tearing a nearby sack into strips, Piia wraps a temporary bandage around my arm.

She then reaches under my armpits and drags me towards a fairly unscathed tent.

Panting heavily, we make it just inside the entrance. I can just see the sky outside and realise it's the first time I've been able to view it since arriving in this world.

It's a blue bird day, with unimpeded sunshine illuminating the world.

Native to the British Isles, blue skies and sunshine always bring a smile to my face.

Piia props my head up with a bag and looks down at me with concern.

"Seth, how are you smiling in this situation? You have lost a great deal of blood." She thinks I've gone mad with blood loss.

"What… a beau…tiful daayy."

I can barely form the words to answer, Piia's image is difficult to focus on.

"I need you to hold on until I get back. I'll be fast." Hesitating for a second, she mutters a quiet prayer "Mother watch over our Shepherd". She turns and races out of sight.

I look out at the open sky, strange blurry objects hanging in an expanse of turquoise. I try to concentrate on them, but my vision falters further. Head pounding with the strain, I close my eyes to help mitigate the resonating headache.

What did Piia just say? I open my eyes to ask her.

Where has she gone? "Piiiiiia!" I half yell her name. Unconsciousness beckons to me, coaxing me with the promise of peace in a deep slumber.

The world is a hazy image, I can barely make out my surroundings. My eyes flutter and I start to give in to the sweet dream of rest. A large dark shape appears and slowly, very slowly grows. It blocks the beautiful sunlight, filling the whole entrance to the tent.

Shaped like a boulder, my muddled brain can't process what's before me.

The boulder leans down close, wet liquid dribbles out and onto my face, hot and heavy breaths wash over me.

I weakly raise a hand to investigate the shape, like a baby discovering the world, it rears back and deeply sniffs my hand.

"Im Se..th the… shep…herd." My brain is shutting down, these final thoughts will be my last. The dark shape, having sniffed my hand to its satisfaction, pushes a wet and rubbery snout into it.

"Want… to jo…in my… flock?" I close my eyes. The feeling of tickling whiskers and rough moist skin rubbing against my hand is my final sensation.

Fade to black.