Guns of Legend: Chapter One
This is the first chapter of a story I'm experimenting with. It's a
fantasy story set in a cowboy western type of world. It's currently
untitled, but I'd like to know what you think of it, if you don't mind.Chapter One
The sharp crack of Kulgan's pistol
rang out six times through the cold desert night. Six bullets were sent flying towards the
massive goyles as they sprang up from the sands around him, and then he flicked
the chamber open and loaded six more bullets into it. They were sandgoyles, so their bodies
exploded into fine powder wherever the bullets struck them, only to be replaced
as more sand shifted to fill the holes. Still
more goyles rose up from the sandy ground as he watched, and he quickly took
aim and fired again.It was stupid of him to venture
this far into the desert so close to sunset, and Kulgan knew it. His tail twitched in annoyance as the monsters
converged on him, snarling with bloodlust. Sandgoyles were difficult to kill on solid ground, a task made nearly
impossible on their natural habitat where they had limitless sand to heal
themselves with. There were no less than
twenty gathered around him now, and if the shifting sand below his feet was any
indicator, there were plenty more ready to join them. He'd inadvertently walked directly into their
nesting grounds.The goyle closest to him raised its
hand, its claws ready to dismember Kulgan.
Before it had a chance to strike, though, the nimble zik fired again,
shooting off its hand and placing two bullets into its chest and stomach. They weren't enough to kill the monster, but
they would at least cause it enough pain to force away. With a howl of rage, the sandgoyle backed
off, glaring at its furry foe with animalistic hatred.Despite his skill, Kulgan knew was
in trouble. There were simply too many
goyles for him to fight. If he kept this
up, he would be out of ammo within ten minutes, and then the sandgoyles would have
him at their mercy. His only chance was
to escape. Before the goyles could work
up the courage to come at him again, he reached up and tapped his claw against the
pendant that hung around his neck. Magic
spewed out of it, seeping through his body like sludge water through his
veins. Two large bumps formed on his
back, straining the fabric of his shirt before bursting free with the sound of
tearing fabric. Two wings now protruded
from his back, thin and fleshy like a bat's and growing larger with every
passing second. The sandgoyles recoiled
in terror. A zik was not supposed to
have wings! Even a stupid monster like a
goyle was smart enough to recognize the Dreadwave that accompanied a Twisting. He was throwing Nature itself out of balance. Kulgan grimaced at the thought.
Kulgan raised his new wings and
thrust them down, rising off the ground a few feet. He flapped three more times, putting himself
safely out of the sandgoyles' reach before angling himself to the north and
flying away. The goyles made no attempt
to follow him, but he still flew more than a mile before landing. Tapping the pendant again, he felt the magic
retreat back into the necklace with an obscene slurping sound. Without the magic to sustain them, the wings began
to shrivel and die, the flesh rotting and falling off while the bones retreated
painfully back into Kulgan's spine. With
a gasp, the zik was in his normal form once more.Removing the tattered remains of his shirt,
Kulgan cast it upon the ground. It was proper
to burn any clothing that was destroyed by a Twisting, but he wasn't willing to
risk attracting whatever other predators might be stalking the night for a
stupid superstition. Hopefully the dull grey
fur that covered his body would be enough to ward off the desert cold until he
reached civilization. He plucked his hip
flask from his belt and considered taking a long swig to fight off the
cold. Instead, he put it back. The Dreadwave was still coming off of him hard
enough to make the flies steer clear of him, and would most likely still be in
effect when he made it back to Everdry.
If he used up all his whiskey now, he'd have a very hard time getting
more from Olgi's pub until he was able to be around other people without his
mere presence frightening them away. That
was the price of Twisting, but in his line of work it was worth it. The real problem would arise when he was
forced to tell his employer that he'd lost the tracks once again when the
sandgoyles appeared.
Oh well, one more child wouldn't be
too high of a price, right?