The Bizarre Adventures of a Half-Elf

Breathless

**Combaaaaaaaaaaaaaat

The sleep did not last long. Shouting erupted from the others. "Charlotte! Timoré! Help!"

Charlotte scrambled to her feet, picking up her swords and dashing over towards the commotion. The scene around her was chaos. More of the Black Skull bandits seemed to have descended from nowhere, sending her companions scattering. But the biggest problem was a giant of a man in full plate armor who was brandishing a large sword that was completely coated in fire. He was swinging it wildly towards Tobias and Gretta, and when Tobias lifted his shield to block, the metal was instantly set alight. The warrior yelped and dropped the shield onto the ground. Charlotte thought the grass would go up in flames, but the fire seemed self-contained.

"It's magical fire," Timoré yelled, suddenly next to her, "We have to disarm him!" He turned towards her. "Get in there, I'll try to paralyze him."

The rogue nodded and charged into the fray. On her way to the man with the fire sword, she silently skirted behind the bandit engaged with Guillotine and swiped both her swords across his back, sinking them into his spine. "Aw, kill-stealer!" The great sword-wielder called after her. Charlotte allowed herself a small smile, but it disappeared as she skidded to a halt in front of the large bandit. He must have been half-giant and twice his normal bulk with all the armor on. Her mouth went dry as he turned his cruel gaze towards her.

With a heavy grunt, he hefted his sword up to ready for a downwards strike-- and then a Spark hit him directly in the torso. The electric shock was amplified by the plate armor, sending spasms all up and down his body in waves. Charlotte relaxed a bit, until she saw his eyes in the gap of his helmet burning with fury. With a strangled cry, he tried to swing his sword down on her. But his motions were jerky, and so Charlotte was able to sidestep and knock the blade away. However, she underestimated the weight behind it, and it sent one of her swords spinning off into the dirt. She also completely neglected to see his foot before it kicked her in the abdomen. Her boots slid in the dirt as she was pushed back a few feet, a whoosh of air leaving her lips. Then he was on her in two large strides, picking her up by the throat. He had dropped the fire sword, and her companions were closing in. But she needed to worry about breathing.

Charlotte grasped at his gauntlets and weakly kicked at his armor, trying to find any sort of wiggle room or purchase, but she could find none. Her vision began to blacken around the edges and her movements weakened as his hands crushed her windpipe with great strength. Her mouth gaped open like a fish, and she could feel her eyes bulging out of her sockets as if they would explode from the pressure. She could vaguely hear shouting, but it was as if she was underwater and listening to people talk above the surface. Then she saw a green blur as Grom tackled into the bandit, and suddenly she could breathe again.

She dropped to the ground, collapsing onto her side. Her vision swam, and there was a slight ringing in her ears. She tried to take deep breathes and prop herself up on a forearm, but her body would not comply. She slowly sunk into the grass, her vision going darker and darker...

When Charlotte came to, she was moving. Not voluntarily, but being dragged. She felt her arm draped over someone's shoulder, and another arm that was not her own wrapped firmly around her waist. Her body was mostly off the ground, but her toes dragged somewhat. Flittering open her eyes, she recognized that she was still in the Ghost Wood. But when she turned her head, she was surprised to find Timoré carrying her. He did not seem to notice that she was now conscious and was looking studiously ahead as he labored to carry her dead weight. The Half-Elf let her head droop again, not yet sure if she was ready to fully become conscious.

After some time, Timoré gently set her down on the ground. Charlotte opened her eyes again to see that they had reached the edge of the wood. The mage plopped down next to her, breathing hard and wiping perspiration with the sleeve of his robe.