Monday, June 10, 2013

Taking a Tumble

I took a moment longer to focus on my next destination, as the exact location would be of highest importance.  But I still had to move quickly before Halkkor could regain his bearings and claw my leg off.  As soon as I could, I teleported again.

I appeared at the edge of the grand fiery chasm between the Barracks of the Damned and the Department of Torture.  To my delight, I discovered that my desired effect had been achieved--I was standing on the edge of the cliff and Halkkor was suddenly thrust out into the air above the enormous pit of bubbling lava.  What I hadn't considered, of course, was that when he appeared above the lava and immediately fell, he might keep his grip on my ankle.

Halkkor fell with a low yelp.  His claws dug deeply and painfully into my leg.  He held on and swung with a thud against the rock face.  All of his weight pulled at my ankle.  I lost my footing.  I hit the ground hard on my side, sliding quickly toward the precipice over which I'd hoped to dispose of my foe.  Instead, it looked like we'd both be taking a swim in the lake of fire.

Swearing unavailingly under my breath, I grappled with the dry shale as I slid, searching frantically for a handhold.  I found one--then two.  But they were both tiny imperfections in the flat expanse of stone and I was literally hanging on by my fingertips.  For the moment, however, I was safe from the lava.

And, of course, now tenaciously digging his fingers into my flesh with both hands, Halkkor held on.

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