15. Work three of these…
Today’s Prompt
15. Work three of these verbs into a scene: howl, moan, creak, clap, slosh, entangle, pare, squawk, spun, bleed, detonate, drift, chomp, snarl, hiss, trample, shimmy, gush.
400 Creative Writing Prompts Workbook Story Prompts for Journaling, Blogging, and Overcoming Writer’s Block Compiled by Debra Chapoton All rights reserved Copyright © 2020 by Debra Chapoton
Response
Samira landed atop a nearby knoll just as one of her warriors came flying up from the valley toward her. Not flying under his own wings, but sailing through the air, his wings curled around his still form, to crash down into the earth beneath her. Samira recognized him: Eldrast. A young lad with a promising future in the Guard. Hopefully not a future lost in this attack.
“See to young Eldrast,” the queen commanded the support squad to her left, as she prepared to enter the valley.
“My queen,” Eldemere reached out as if to take her arm but holding his hand a respectful distance from her royal person. “Perhaps it best to let me assess the situation before you get too close.”
Always so protective, her second, Samira thought to herself. He seemed a bit shaken by the way one of his young up and coming warriors appeared ejected from the battle.
“I will make my own assessment, old friend,” Samira, with a slight smile to soften the contradiction.
Samira flew into the valley and into carnage.
The beast stood on its hind legs swiping fae warriors left and right, its claws flashing like a scythe before wheat. It stood several meters tall. Built like a bear, Samira saw that it would be just as comfortable running on all fours.
Several warriors dove from above extending swords for the creature’s head while its attention was focused on the fae on the ground, who were keeping that attention by using their long lances to stab at it. But without seeming to look, the creature reared its head side to side, using its long slightly curved horns to knock the flying fae from the sky, causing a sickening sounding crunch with each collision of warrior and horn. More than one moan could be heard around the valley of other fallen fae clutching broken ribs or holding legs where bones protruded. The support squads Samira had brought with her were going to be busy.
Samira surveyed the situation in an instant and flew over to the ranking warrior directing the lancers. “Fall back, commander! The lances are too small.”
“Your majesty! You’re here. Thank the gods,” the commander spoke a little too rapidly as if fighting off panic. “At once, your majesty.” He turned to deliver her orders.
“Eldemere, take command of the sky. Diamond formations, staggered runs, get close enough for enchanted arrows to find soft flesh but not so close he can use those horns.”
Without bothering with words, Eldemere launched himself upward to take charge of the flying units.
“Commander,” Samira returned her attention to the ground fae forming up in front of her after their brief retreat from the beast. “Distance is required. Do you have casters?”
“Only three with us, your majesty, our mission here didn’t anticipate combat of this level,” the commander replied.
“I want one on the left, one on the right, and the strongest in front. I’m going to turn the beast around to provide the casters open targets. Instruct them to use the sharpest blade-spells they can launch.”
Samira rose into the air as the triangular formations of flyers began harrying the beast from above. As Samira had hoped, its attention turned to the sky, howling its frustration at not being able to reach any of its attackers. However, it still faced all her ground fae who were ill equipped to handle something this resilient.
Pulling forth her enchanted blade, Samira, held it in front of her, focusing her will and her magic onto its crystalline blue surface. She extended her power until a ghostly blade of a lighter translucent blue power extended over and out from the sapphire sword. Samira forced the power into a razor edge until it appeared that a sword the length of one of the fairy lances hovered before the queen.
Samira folded her wings and plummeted toward the beast. As she expected, it turned its head to bash her from the sky. She thrust out her wings, twisted in midair, and screaming her fury at her fallen warriors cleaved her outsized blade of power through the horn swiping at her.
Time seemed to freeze just a second as the horn resisted the cut. But after that half-second, everything sped forward as the horn came apart from the beast which screamed its pain and rage into the air. Wide rolling eyes sought the source of its pain. She worked her wings hard, seeking a safe distance from the beast but also staying at a low elevation so that it could find her behind it. The beast turned, catching sight of Samira’s silver tunic.
When it was facing away from the bulk of the fae warriors, the casters unleashed their magic. Three bolts, one green, one blue, and one red, flew through the air at the beast. All found their mark and sought to skewer the hide, which seemed to be covered in a short sharp stubble.
All three failed.
The beast reared up as if merely tickled and began to turn round again.
“Eldemere, keep it facing this way!” Samira screamed to her second.
The triads of flying fae redoubled its attacks, at slightly lower elevation keeping the beast’s attention.
Samira spun around, scanning for the severed horn. She was both sickened and reassured to see the beast bleed from the stump she’d created on its head, but needed to know more about the nature of this brute. Spotting the fallen horn, she swooped low, scooped it up, and staying low while the beast raged at the flying attacks, pulled free of the combat area and landed with the horn in her hands.
Surprisingly warm to the touch, she examined it closely, both with her eyes and with her magics. It was a dull yellow in color, like old butter. The few remaining drops of blood oozing from the cut end appeared to be a deep purple in color. Samira had never seen or heard of any such taxonomy. Even more disturbing, her magic probing the horn could only enter through the cut. The exterior of the horn seemed impervious to her sense, as if the hide covering it, the same that covered the rest of the beast, naturally warded against magical assault.
The horn ended in a wickedly sharp point. Clearly these were not meant only as defensive weapons, should more than one of them fight each other. Samira shuddered inwardly at the thought of multiple of these monsters clashing against each other, but at the same moment came to a conclusion about how to save her people. She grieved the necessity.
