The horseshoe drew its final arc as Ramsey extended the rope. Waiting until the last possible moment to crank up the gravity was critical to keep it from overpowering its momentum.
At first he thought of aiming for the creature's head, knocking it out or worse, but that was too risky. Once the gravity kicked in he was sure to lose his grip, so missing was not an option. Instead he aimed for the largest body mass.
Blocking out the pain of his injuries for that brief moment, Ramsey devoted his complete attention to the improvised weapon, and exhaled so fiercely he yelled, "HAAAA!"
A thunderous crack resounded as the impact caved in the creature's gaunt rib cage, sending it flying torso first, its head and legs flailing in pursuit.
Tumbling end over end, the contorted body of the creature settled in a haze of dust some 30 feet away.
A horrid moan escaped the pile of flesh.
Wincing in pain, Ramsey hobbled closer.
Its torso had torn open from broken ribs perforating and shredding the skin. Sizzling organs spilled out onto the ground around it. Yet the dying creature looked up at its former prey with unwavering ferocity.
Ramsey pulled a spike from his belt and held it over the creature's head. He released his grip, controlling it to float in place. This wasn't mercy. He wasn't putting an animal out of its misery. Its death seemed certain - but knowing it wouldn't hesitate to kill him if it found a way - he wouldn't either.
Its final dissonant groan was cut short as the spike disappeared and a spurt of blood jumped from the collapsed skull.
"Dammit," Ramsey struggled to sit on the ground, needing a moment to rest and assess the damage.
[Defeated class 3 monster - Krewlhorn]
[Earned 2 free attribute points]
Ramsey could hardly think beyond the searing pain. Everywhere the viscous acid splattered, it quickly devoured his clothing, and burned through layer after layer of skin and muscle. Leaving behind charred bloody wounds or exposed bone, only stopping once it consumed enough to lose its acidity.
Thankfully, that time had come, however, the damage was severe and the pain was excruciating. He had been sprayed across his left shin, both knees, and upper right leg. His shin bone was exposed, as was his right knee, while everything else bled profusely.
'I gotta get back.
I'm an easy target right now.'
Arduously rising to his feet, Ramsey looked back at the krewlhorn carcass.
'I can't return empty handed.'
The torn and leaking remains slowly rose off the ground. Ramsey held on to one of its grand antlers as it ascended, pivoting it face down. He released his hold as it continued to climb, extending his hand toward it, to keep it within range. At nearly 12 feet the creature stopped. Ramsey shakily took in a slow deep breath and held it, then with an obscene speed, the creature slammed into the ground, folding in on itself with a concussive splat.
Ramsey was not proud of this moment. It was… too much.
The antlers had sheared off successfully, but the rest was unrecognizable.
Ramsey collected the spoils and started toward the town. Each step was agonizing, with his legs constantly failing, he fell atop the thorny branches several times. That pain was nothing in comparison, though.
A walk that should've taken 10 minutes, felt like an eternity.
Ramsey crossed the threshold of Harkynn in tears. With a few more painful deliberate steps he dropped the antlers and collapsed outside the medical building.
Resting his head in the dirt, his eyes focused on the only thing in the foreground of his vision, the long chain of the bell. He grasped it and pulled while closing his eyes, giving in to exhaustion.
***
"Quickly, help me get him inside," a frail man's voice begged.
"But, Doctor… these antlers... Don't you know what these are?" An anxious young female questioned.
"Of course I know! Look at his injuries.
Help me, then take those around back. After that, report to the guild office immediately. I'm not disobeying any more orders."
***
Awoken by the morning sun warming his blankets, Ramsey opened his eyes to an unfamiliar room.
He was tucked comfortably into a thin bed with an elevated head. Around the room were several cabinets and shallow shelves lined with bottles of liquids, plant clippings, and rolls of cloth. Through the window to his left, he could see Last Chance Supplies.
"That's right. I made it back."
"Oh!" A young woman seated behind him jumped at his words. "You're awake! I'll go get the doctor," she ran away as quickly as she appeared.
Ramsey looked down at the pristine white blankets, a bit shocked that he hadn't bled through them. He carefully peeled back the covers, hoping they weren't stuck to his wounds.
"Ah, good morning!" A small, energetic old man with curly white hair jutting out over his ears stepped into the room. He smiled as he pushed his spectacles back up his nose. "Yes, yes, good as new you see."
"Good as… new?" Ramsey looked at his legs in disbelief. Where the grave wounds had been, was now tender pink flesh.
"Well, technically it is new skin," the doctor removed the blanket, waving his hand over the large pink blotches, "but it will take some time to firm up and lose the sensitivity."
"You healed me. How? What happened?" Ramsey inquired.
"I expect you remember ringing the bell. Everyone always comes at night… I really should change my hours. Anyway, Ella and I brought you in and started healing you right away. You were quite a mess."
"You're both healers?"
"Oh, sorry, where are my manners? I'm Doctor Morten and this is my apprentice Ella," he gestured to the young woman.
She folded her hands over her white apron and nodded. Her pixie cut dark hair was just long enough to curl in front of her ears. "My pleasure," she smiled.
"As to how, well, if you've never been healed before, you're a lucky man! Healers like Ella and I have learned to advance our muse to grow more than just plants. You'd be quite surprised at what can be regrown actually. Granted, there are other types of doctors with different muses. For instance, blood doctors, now they-
"Doctor," Ella tried to get him back on track.
"Sorry, I could ramble on about medicine forever.
Now, young man, as much as I love helping people out of the kindness of my heart," he sighed disappointedly, "this is the Guild Healer's office, and we're required to report all healings.
Do you by chance have 20 gold to compensate the guild for healing services?" The old man hesitantly asked, as if already knowing the answer.
"20 gold… I don't have a single gold," Ramsey confessed. "I was going to try to sell the krewlhorn antlers, but I doubt they're worth 20 gold."
"So, you really did it?" Ella excitedly asked, "You took down a krewlhorn by yourself?"
"It didn't really give me a choice."
"What matters is that you're okay," the doctor assured, "but… ringing that bell means asking for the guild's help. And a guild representative should be here any moment to discuss.
I am truly sorry. But, they've been clear with me, if I don't report healings, they'll replace me with someone who will."
"Thank you, Doctor. I understand, you did what you had to. I'll be fine," Ramsey smiled.
"Good lad," the Doctor looked relieved. "After you speak with the guild rep, try to take it easy for at least a day. You may look and feel better, but a lot of the energy used to heal you came from your own body, so you'll tire quickly."
Doctor Morten shook Ramsey's hand and left Ella to wait with him.
"I placed your antlers around back. You can pick them up when you're ready. I'd really like to hear more about what happened-"
"As would I," a clean-cut, bronze skinned man in a scarlet coat stood in the doorway. Unlike the trio at the tavern, his coat was formally buttoned, adorned with embroidered symbols and two silver shield pins on his chest.
"My name is Erron Astor, 3rd Captain of The Chosen, I'm here on behalf of the Guild office," he approached Ramsey's still exposed legs, "regarding a healing."
This was the first time Ramsey heard a surname used on Elorr, it was assumedly a mark of status or nobility. However, the stunning revelation was the name of his guild, 'The Chosen, a bit ostentatious don't you think?'
Ella excused herself after receiving a look from the visitor.
Standing now just off the foot of the bed, he asked, "May I know your name?"
"Ramsey, Sir," he answered respectfully.
"Ramsey, before we talk about compensation, I'd like to know how you came about your injuries."
Ramsey told the story of being out for a walk and misjudging the time. How he mistook the sound of the krewlhorn for a rider, only noticing when it was dangerously close. Then how it had sprayed his legs, which the doctors were able to heal."
"They really are vile monsters, krewlhorns," Erron sighed looking out the window. "Debilitating their prey, then thrashing them with their thorns. They can't tear at your flesh with their teeth like most monsters. Instead they ram, pierce and shred with those antlers, until only a pulp remains for them to drink.
It's why when we need to hunt them, we always go out with at least 3 mages, so they can't choose a target.
So, Ramsey, how was it that you were not only able to escape with your life, but defeat a krewlhorn alone?"