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Attack the weak point

Chapter 6

"You need to get running"

He spoke with an alarmed urgency, as if I didn't already know that! Have to get up. Hurts to stand, hurts to breathe, my entire belly ached all over across the full surface of it. My tail could swish, and in my agitation it crashes against stone walls.

"Just ... just give me a ..." talking hurt so badly. But if I don't run then I'm going to be skinned alive!

That small ratling nestled onto my neck using my horns as handholds kept twisting around to mess with a bag of supplies. Still naked and still warm, I wish the feel of his bare crotch into the back of my skull was more distracting than it was. Truth be told a mammal's fur felt a bit like being pressed up against a heated pillow. Or maybe a shirt that someone microwaved.

"Give ya a moment? Give a beating? How about I give ya a kick in the tail, where did all that braggin about takin down orcs go?" My eyes closed, but I could hear snaps and clicks as he was assembling something. Metal bracing into metal, wood fitting into slots.

All of it so much less attention grabbing than the clank and thud of boots on stone.

It really was time to move. Faces rounded the corner, a Kitsune in full armor with three tails waving behind him, a huge orc with a shortsword in one hand and a baton in the other. A much smaller orc wielding a spear and covered in chainmail. They seemed to balk, nervous and scared, but they were blocking the exit.

Had to stand.

One clawed hand grips the stone floor, and in my pain I couldn't help but clench. Fingertips digging through the floorboards, growing cracks and fissures appear as the tile is torn apart. Weak and flimsy with poor craftsmanship, clearly either made by hand or by some cheap wizard's spell. There's no way proper cement would be this fragile.

My hind legs bracing against the floor, my stance low and my face twisted into a grimace of pain. But I was up.

I was on my feet, my belly still giving a throbbing ache as it demanded attention, and the three guards seemed to hesitate rather than charge. None of them had handcuffs on their belts, so given the lethal weapons held by all three it only makes sense to assume the rat was telling the truth. They didn't plan on taking anyone peacefully.

"B-by order of the mayor ..." the Kitsune speaks, his voice gentle and stuttering before he picks up some confidence. His words tasted like chalk, bitter and brittle yet filled with a superficial color. Wait, was he using magic to enhance his speech? "You are hereby commanded to step down and return to your cells, the case of your crimes against this good village will be addressed at dawn!"

Steam comes out of my maw, breath fogging over in the chilled air. A strained hiss escaping my gritted teeth, and it was a serious effort to try and talk at all. Every attempt was coming out as a dull groan or a pained drawl.

"Fat chance three-tails. How many souls ya gobble up to get that magic? Was it two? Or did ya need to kill a whole three to make up for yer first tail bein so limp."

The orc to his left spoke up. Aiming a spear right at my head, which just left me more relieved than anything. Getting stabbed in the nose would hurt far less than a minor flick to the tummy at this point.

"None of yer business, an you aint part of no deal here. Drop the weapon, hands behind yer head, and we'll end you right quick. Not even a lick of torture, see?" his words tasted like contempt. A disgust filled hatred for the tiny arm sized thing, the rodent about as small as a human child and easily able to fit into the palm of my hand. The orcs hands were about as big, just with less claw.

I wanted to stand up for him, but when I tried it just became a breathless gasp. All three of the guards took a single step back regardless. Then ... then I did a double-take. Drop the weapon?

"How about ya tell Mayor Thisan that I figured out her troop movements. Really need to fire that messenger, he's sloppier than that chick givin ya blowjobs last night." The taste of this mouse boy's words felt wrong somehow. Aggressive, passiveness, a sickly sweetness with a hint of pride. They tasted like deception ...

"HEY!" the big orc growls out, pointing the wooden baton in my direction. "And you think yer gonna get out of here alive to tell anyone? The best thing a little vermin like ya can hope for is ending up skinned and repurposed as a pillowcase for Thisan. We do worse to spies around here."

I was shuddering, because this orc's words didn't have a trace of deception at all. They just tasted blunt and happy, as if he were looking forward to whatever comes next.

Trying to take a step back, I instead stumbled forward. Just a step. Just enough to make everything flinch and point their weapons at me.

Fear was everywhere. On me, on the rat, on the Kitsune and those orcs, the hallway as a whole reeked of it. But I didn't know what to do. Run away? Is there any other exit? Fight them? But they have weapons! I'd loose. Try to talk them down, say this whole thing was just a big misunderstanding? But these people just seemed downright evil, I don't know if it's possible to convince them of anything. To say nothing of the fact orcs hate dragons.

Needed to think, needed to have a plan, need to at least move! But my stomach. Ohgodswhy my stomach still hurt so bad, if I could just find time to sprawl out and stretch then I could fight better. Maybe even get in a massage, just one tiny massage so the throbbing bruises die down. There has to be something, has to be some sort of esca- ...

"Dragon." The rat's voice commands with a biting authority. He tasted of calm assurance. His words tinged with the flavor of certainty. "Charge."

The Kitsune raised a sword and stepped behind the big orc.

This seemed like a dumb plan, but what else was there to do?

"CHARGE!" he shouts, louder now. His thighs squeezing around my neck, his left hand bracing onto my horn while his other seemed to be raised. He must have had a weapon, some small dagger or a stick maybe. Could even be a stolen crossbow.

The fear rose off of everyone and the tangible need to move, to start running, just builds and builds. I couldn't take it anymore, but the pain was so bad!

"FOR THE GREATEST OF SQUEAKS, WE CHARGE!!!"

And so I staggered forward. One claw in front of the other, a jerking and lopsided run that left my sides scraping against the walls. Lips twisted in an agonized grimace, just the vibration of my own body in motion sent ripples of pain through every step. Maw opened into a feral scream, whimpering and tiny as I tried to shout my way through.

The fear, the confidence, the bloodlust and the excitement, I could taste it all from everywhere. Soon it was hard to tell who was feeling what.

Kitsune first, thin jabbing rapier in hand, a thrusting lunge directly aimed at my left eye.

CRUNCH! And in a single sweeping motion I saw the rat's arm extend past my head, a huge sheet of black riveted metal that looked more like a surf board than a sword came swinging from right to left. The edge connected, kitsune's blade was torn in half, and the stunned fox ended up shoved over my shoulder when I didn't stop. Crack and scrape, the walls tearing apart around me, I couldn't stop. Not now.

Big orc raises his baton high overhead and starts bashing down at me. I kept barreling through, heard a meaty clack of wood against bone and knew my rider had just gotten a welt across his face. My own head pushing into the big orc, I shoved and kept shoving and knocked the man off-balance. Face into his own belly, my skull pushing hard, I could see his feet scraping against the floor as he tries and fails to hold me back.

Smaller orc in chainmail keeps backing up, maintaining distance with the big guy acting as a meatshield and jabbing his spear around the side. It glances off my shoulders with a hard clack, entirely harmless.

Then the mouseboy moves, arms raising high and his sword swinging around to continue the momentum. Had to be the blade I saw him with before, but that thing was huge. It still is huge. No way it could have fit inside those bags he'd carried out!

CLANG! He brought the flat side of his sword down and used it as more of a club than a blade, bashing the orc's face in with what amounts to being smacked by metal sheet. He'd obviously tried to parry with his little shortsword, and might have succeeded if there was a thin edge to deflect. Instead the weight of the blow just carried through, knocking the huge orc further off-balance and now leaving him stunned and draped over my neck like a meaty rag.

The Kitsune from before was standing up, the huge orc had dropped his baton and now tried holding onto me with those wrecking ball hands. The spear guy in the back was having trouble keeping up with my charge, backpedalling as fast as he can down narrow halls.

I try to shake the big orc off me, but it was mostly just growls and waggling and trying not to think of the pain in my guts. Or the fact my face was technically flanked on either side by huge pink cocks that'd I'd have much rather enjoyed in a less violent scenario.

Swoosh! SMACK! The rat on my head now swings from left to right, that broad flat edge of a sword so large you could hide behind it like a shield connecting with the big orc's shoulder. He isn't so much struck as he was pushed, shunted off to one side so that he could be crushed against the wall by my bulk when driving past.

The Kitsune was running to keep up and noticeably gaining on us, but now the only foe blocking our path out was the chainmail guy.

He jabs his spear toward the rat instead of me, and judging by the lack of blood or the fact he was still jamming his crotch into my neck meant he must have dodged. The whole while this spear guy was running, rushing, failing to keep ahead of us.

When I'd caught up I saw the full length of that sword, huge literal surf board with a broad tip, extending as long as that spear with an oversized handle. It stabbed into the orc's chest. A grunt of pain, a splurt of blood, the clink as chains are broken off and bits of mailwork are scattered around like coins. It obviously didn't penetrate deeply, and the more I ran further the sharper the point was dug in, driving that orc back.

At least it was, until my rider simply lifts that sword up high with the orc still attached. Feet no longer on the ground, head scraping against the ceiling, he drops his spear and starts using both hands to try and remove himself from this awkward impalement. Small for an orc still meant fairly tough, and this blade was too huge to slide past his ribs for an actual shot at the vitals.

But that still begged the question, just how strong was this rat guy? Not strong enough to tear a brittle door down, or to even break bones. Yet he was somehow lifting several hundred pounds in one hand?

Given my own agony at the moment, I surprised myself upon discovering I wasn't sure if I liked the fact he was still alive or not. I don't like watching things die, but if getting outright impaled wasn't enough to deter these orcs then how would any of us fare in a real fight.

A question that didn't need to be answerd, ratboy's solution was to flick his wrist and spin the blade around, tossing the smaller orc off his sword and sending him clattering to the ground. There was only light trampling as my claws and belly smoosh against him while shoving past.

"G-gaaaahhh!" w-why ... why did he have to elbow me in the gut in that exact moment! WWWHHHhhyyyyyyy!

"Don't stop moving!" The ratboy shouts, and ahead of me now I can see a brightly lit room, some metal bars and a locked door, wood frames and a window to the snowstorm outside just beyond. There were three Kitsunes ready in padded winter armor with crossbows in hand.

Before I can even worry about whether they'd stab out an eye or not, my vision is blocked by a huge sheet of black metal. Couldn't see around it, the flat sword larger than my head, and ....

Clink, clink, clink, iron tipped bolts bounced off harmlessly.

"KEEP RUNNING!" my rider shouts with even more urgency, and so dutifully I barrel throu- ...

"With pleasure!" ... what? A voice was shouting from behind, while more plinkclinks bounce off the metal sheet in front of me.

"Tail slap! Dragon, whip your tail NOW!" the rat demands, which felt more than awkward to try as the pain and my rushing charge continue. But all the same I try, a long fwip starting from the base and sliding out, I could feel the slight crunch as the end of it slams into the wall.

Then bright light. The blade pulled back and over my head, revealing three very alarmed Kitsune struggling to reload. Before I could topple all of them to the ground this mouse's sword swings wide from left to right, slapping against the leftmost one and simply pushing all three out of the way. It was a harsh shove in which they're tossed to the wall, but it meant I didn't have to worry overmuch about stepping on anyone.

For a massive fuckoff sword that thing was surprisingly non-lethal, and in this moment I felt assured that such was a good thing. Leaving corpses everywhere couldn't be good for our reputation, even if they were smelly orcs.

"Tail whip again!" the mouse surprises me, while a sharp yank tugs my head to the left.

I slap my tail in a random swirling direction, not even sure what I was supposed to be doing with it. And following his lead I turned away from the window, crunching over a table and a few chairs, and strait on toward the exit.

Then I felt a soft slap ...

Something very soft, very light, and warm to the touch gracing over my flank, feeling far too much like a fur blanket.

"G-gaaaaah!" my rider shouts. This time I felt blood trickle down my neck. "K-keep ... running!"

Ohgodnowhywhat ... w-what was even happening?!

Struggles, sways, slaps and claws, I could hear fur being ripped out and saw when that huge sword swung wildly or clattered against the walls. There was a single orc who'd opened the door to enter, saw me charging, and then immediately shut the door in front of me.

Keep running ...

Pain or not, worry or not, this door didn't stop me any more than the last one had. Head forward, horns in front, CRUNCH! The wood splinters in a shower of pulp, the orc standing outside get's head-butted to the gut and topples over holding his tummy the same way I desperately wanted to. A Kitsune is hurtled off my back and sent sprawling into the snow, the jolt of my impact enough to knock it off.

That's what the tail slaps were for.

"H-head ..." my rider starts to speak, interrupted by a cough and the need to shout over swirling winds. "H-head left! Then go strait. Don't stop for anything."

And so I turned, crunching through the snow at a slow jog. It was pitch black save for the warm lighting that flashed through several distant windows. Biting flakes of ice thrown all through the air in aggressive swirls, making it even harder to see.

"G-get back here!" The Kitsune I'd dislodged was getting up, and trying to stagger after me. It wasn't going to catch up ...

And then I tasted something bitter. The taste of agony, a cold heartlessness, a clawing vacuum that ripped the flavors straight out of the wind itself. As if the very vitality of the air was being siphoned off. That Kitsune behind me was waving his arms above his head in a motion to scoop, to build, to wad magic around his chest in the shape of a ball.

"Expect a very negative hotel review ya blimy gits! I wouln' come back here if'n ya paid me for it! HAH!" the mouse shouts back, straining both under his own breath and to try and be heard over the blasting winds or the crunch of my feet into snow.

Then the Kitsune three that bundle of awful tasting magic. Shards of ice flying free, aiming toward my rider's back.

A splash. A scream! The awful taste of pain ringing mixed with a golden determination. I could feel the mouse's weight shift on my back, and I already knew what my part of this plan was. Just keep runni- ...

"Tail swipe, vertical, NOW!"

Ohgodspleasedon'tmessthisupaaaahhhh! I swing my tail from low to high, trying to go right down the center and completely horrible at aiming it. I felt something cold and hard stab against my tailtip and then spread over the hard scale plates like jello. But it was just simple shards of ice, which tear away almost instantly the moment I flex.

A swing. A CLASH! And then the tinkling explosion of more ice shards falling down onto my back, the rodent having swiped away another shot with his blade.

So long as none of this hits my belly I'll be fine.

"Horizontal swipe, tail. TAAAaiil!" The mouse cries with impatience and urgency, and dutifully I try to swing my tail wide. Moving slow and panting for breath, passing one house, then two, now three. To my right I saw that slow bundle of magic flying ... past me? And angled down.

My rider presses his belly over my head and extends his arms. I can see his chest, muscles toned, I can feel every inch of his body rubbing over me, forceful and rapid just as it was soft and warm. I could see the wound on his ribs, with what looked like a knife cut across his bare fur.

But he was reaching out with his sword to swipe the spell I'd missed. And just like me, his swing fails to connect.

Ahead of us the magic touches ground, and right where it slams a massive wall of ice starts jutting up. Going from chest height to far above my head in an instant!

"Keep running!" my rider practically chokes out with a wheezing gasp, words he's repeated far too many times now. Oh by the gods, if you have any mercy at all, please do not let an entire ice wall pop up just below my belly! I'll accept any punishment, I'll grant any wish, just please not that!

Running. Crunching. Charging. Sword ahead me and the mouse rearing back. A few paces from the wall. Almost upon it. Right next to it! SWIPE!

The blade comes down in a vertical slash that sprays ice and snow in all directions like a flurry puff of cold bitterness, the wall rending in half to form just enough of a hole that I could ram my face through. From there tugs on my shoulders, digging my feet in, squirming and clawing until the ice on either side of me broke apart in chunks and the drifting sparkles of snow rain down in all directions.

"Nnnnoooo!" the Kitsune's voice, distant and defeated, echos across the wind. Crossbow bolts plink in my direction, but the shots were blind, poorly aimed, and disrupted by so much wind. To say nothing of the fact they'd be harmless to me even if aimed well.

Keep moving.

HAH! My belly was alright! It still stung from the trap, but all I'd suffered since then was a mild elbow jab! Now I need only get to the woods and hide away and ... wait. What's that darkness ahead.

"S-siirr ..." I mumble out, able to taste the void ahead.

"Don't stop, we're so close now." The mouse urges, sounding panicked.

"B-but uh ... guy, mouse, whatever y-your name is ..."

"Call me the butterscotch fairy for all I care, just don't stop running!"

Closer and closer, the gaping drop as air changes pressure, the slight shift in wind as it's funneled down over a ridge. The subtle shapes of lighter and darker blackness giving me clues. There was a cliff face ahead, a sheer drop-off.

"B-but we're going over a cliff!?" I cough back, only slowing down a little bit and wishing I'd had the chance for a belly massage.

"Do ya squeakin trust me or not!?"

"I ... I ..." did I trust him. Did he taste trustworthy, and would that even matter? Did he have some plan, was there some secret I didn't know about?

"This is the only way ya outrun them kid, now run. Faster. Keep running ..." he urges. Squeezing his thighs over my neck and holding tight onto my left horn. I could feel cold blood dribbling down further, his efforts taking a toll.

Did I trust this man, someone who quite possibly saved my life. Or turned me into an international criminal just to get his stuff back.

Did I ...

"JUMP!" he commanded, and I noticed we were right on the edge of the cliff. Momentum still carrying forward. "NOW!"

There were splashes of bitter tasting ice magic whirling past my head, flung from distance and darkness and thus poorly aimed. A stray bolt clinks into my scales, wedging between the plates and sticking like a needle. There were far off cries and a thrumming war-horn, as the entire city was mobilizing to stop me. To stop us.

"O-okay ..." and so I jumped.

Do you want to know how terrifying this was? Imagine vertigo, like rising up in an elevator. Now imagine it's pitch black, white flecks are swirling across your vision, and you can't see the ground. No idea how far down anything is, nothing to grab onto, nothing to orient with. The blind panic only shifted into knowing panic when that white sheet of snow pretending to be the ground popped up before me like a jumpscare.

SPLASH! CRUNCH!

And then, of course, my entire weight and momentum had to find the one bolder buried in snow with just enough of a tip on it that it could stab into my gut. A pain worse than the orc punches, my head shoved forward into the ice, my breath just gone. And yet I didn't even have the luxury of holding still and worrying about the fact I'd just belly flopped onto a snowbank.

For the boulder my gut smashed into was ice slicked, and the snow pile we'd landed on was sloped.

We slide. Rushing ... rushing faster ... no control, no vision, my belly rubbing over smooth powdered snow and my weight forcing us to pick up speed.

Still gasping for breath, I was hardly able to speak when my rider tosses his sword into the snow next to me, and like a surf board it continues alongside me at an even pace, sharp end forward to cut up the snow as it swishes down. The mouse gingerly steps from the back of my head onto his board, and to my greatest surprise takes to riding that instead.

Faster, and faster, the soothing comfort of snow rubbing across my belly actually felt like something of a massage, yet I couldn't see where we were going or what was in the way. Cold wind rushing across my face, the friction and velocity tearing at my scales. Causing the mouse's ears and tail to fold behind him like a streamer.

Then still faster. Alarmingly fast. Annoyingly fast ...

Too fast to dodge when I saw yet another boulder ahead of me, juuuust enough for my gut to bump into it, but not high enough that it would slow very downhill trip.

I see how it's going to be universe. Don't think I don't know what you're doing ...