Suddenly, the portal flares with blinding light, and a massive figure begins to emerge. My eyes widen as I take in the sight of the creature stepping through the portal. This Lorg is unlike any I've encountered before. It stands at least fifteen feet tall, its fur a deep, mottled black that seems to absorb the light around it. Its eyes glow with a fierce intelligence, and its muscles ripple with power.
This is no ordinary Lorg.
The creature lets out a deafening roar, the force of it shaking the ground and sending a wave of fear through me. I steady myself, drawing on every ounce of my training and resolve. I can't afford to be afraid now. This is the final challenge.
The massive Lorg charges at me with incredible speed for its size. I dive to the side, narrowly avoiding its outstretched claws. I come up on my feet, my enchanted axe and dagger at the ready. The Lorg swings its massive arm at me, and I roll under the blow, slashing at its leg with my dagger. The blade cuts deep, but the creature hardly seems to notice.
I need to find a way to slow it down. I leap back, nocking an arrow and aiming for the Lorg's eyes. The arrow flies true, but the creature swats it out of the air with a casual flick of its wrist. It charges again, and this time I can't dodge in time. The Lorg's claws rake across my chest, sending me sprawling to the ground.
Pain sears through me, but my regeneration skills kick in, healing the worst of the wounds. I push myself to my feet, just in time to dodge another swipe from the Lorg. This creature is faster and stronger than any I've faced, but I can't give up now.
I need to be smarter, use my agility to my advantage. I dart around the creature, striking at its legs and arms, trying to wear it down. Each strike is met with a roar of anger, but I can see the Lorg is starting to slow. Its movements become more sluggish, its attacks less precise.
The massive lorg senses my tactics and adapts with terrifying swiftness. As I dart in for another strike, its immense paw lashes out with blinding speed, slamming me from the side.
White-hot agony lances through me as I'm sent hurtling across the clearing. I crash into an immense oak trunk with bone-jarring force, slumping to the loamy ground in a crumpled heap.
Blackness encroaches on the edges of my vision as I struggle to maintain consciousness. Fighting through the haze of pain, I force my head up to find the source of the fresh torrent of blood soaking the forest floor.
My left arm...it's been torn completely from its socket, hanging by a few shredded tendons and raveled muscle. Waves of nausea crash over me at the sight of the mangled stump.
The lorg bellows its triumph, beady eyes glittering with feral malice as it begins advancing again, each titanic step shaking the earth. I know in that instant that if it reaches me, I'm dead, regenerative abilities or no.
Staving off the creeping blackness, I drag myself upright using the tree trunk for leverage, clutching my ruined shoulder to staunch the obscene flow of blood. I have to...keep moving. Have to...escape.
Pushing past the blinding veil of agony, I turn and run, half-stumbling, half-lurching, deeper into the tangled forest depths. Each jarring step is a fresh torment, but the lorg's thunderous footfalls pursuing me are even greater motivation.
I can feel the regenerative process already starting to work, sinew and bone slowly re-knitting at an agonizing crawl. But it's not fast enough, even if I use {Rapid Regeneration}. The earth shakes violently as the lorg closes the distance, each crashing footfall bringing it nearer.
My arm is not the only wound I have, some bones and muscles are broken and sprained, so I decide to control my vitality to regenerate first the parts I need to run.
Even as I try to escape, the lorg manages to reach me, and in a fast swing it attacks me again. So I grit my teeth, move my left shoulder and block its attack with my bad arm, but that tears the last muscle and sinew that was keeping my arm attached.
My arm drops to the ground with a sickening thud as I scramble backwards, clutching the fresh stump to my body. The lorg rears back, jaws unhinged in a deafening roar of rage at having its prey elude it once more.
Agony lances through me, but I dimly register that by sacrificing my arm, I've managed to temporarily halt the rapid loss of blood. Calling on deep reserves, I divert the regenerative energies to knitting together my shattered ribs and battered legs - anything to keep me mobile and able to evade.
The lorg charges again, and I roll between its crashing strides, flecks of spittle and its fetid breath washing over me. I burst into a ragged sprint, half-crawling, half-running, fueled by desperation and the primal need to survive.
My vision swims and tunnels, the world tilting dangerously. But I don't stop, can't stop, not with that thunderous hell-beast still giving pursuit behind me...
Up ahead, a narrow crevice between two towering boulders...just large enough for my smaller frame to pass through, but surely too tight for the lorg's massive bulk. Putting on an extra burst of speed, I hurl myself towards the slender gap as the lorg's claws whisper through the air behind me.
I hit the ground sliding, squeezing my body through the tight space as the lorg's bestial roars of frustration shake the stones around me. Squirming deeper into the crevice, I finally reach a point where the aperture narrows too far for the lorg to follow.
Safe...for now at least. I collapse back against the rock face, chest heaving, cradling the stump of my arm as a cold sweat drenches my brow. Looking down, I can see the first signs of regrowth, fresh tissue and muscle beginning to knit outward from the grievous wound.
With some time and recovery, my regenerative capabilities will restore me fully. But that lorg...that unholy behemoth...it will still be out there, lurking, waiting to continue our battle. I run a trembling hand over my face, forcing myself to remain calm and focused.
I cannot show fear. I cannot afford even an inkling of doubt or hesitation. To survive, to be immortal.
Suddenly, the portal flares with blinding light, and a massive figure begins to emerge. My eyes widen as I take in the sight of the creature stepping through the portal. This Lorg is unlike any I've encountered before. It stands at least fifteen feet tall, its fur a deep, mottled black that seems to absorb the light around it. Its eyes glow with a fierce intelligence, and its muscles ripple with power.
This is no ordinary Lorg.
The creature lets out a deafening roar, the force of it shaking the ground and sending a wave of fear through me. I steady myself, drawing on every ounce of my training and resolve. I can't afford to be afraid now. This is the final challenge.
The massive Lorg charges at me with incredible speed for its size. I dive to the side, narrowly avoiding its outstretched claws. I come up on my feet, my enchanted axe and dagger at the ready. The Lorg swings its massive arm at me, and I roll under the blow, slashing at its leg with my dagger. The blade cuts deep, but the creature hardly seems to notice.
I need to find a way to slow it down. I leap back, nocking an arrow and aiming for the Lorg's eyes. The arrow flies true, but the creature swats it out of the air with a casual flick of its wrist. It charges again, and this time I can't dodge in time. The Lorg's claws rake across my chest, sending me sprawling to the ground.
Pain sears through me, but my regeneration skills kick in, healing the worst of the wounds. I push myself to my feet, just in time to dodge another swipe from the Lorg. This creature is faster and stronger than any I've faced, but I can't give up now.
I need to be smarter, use my agility to my advantage. I dart around the creature, striking at its legs and arms, trying to wear it down. Each strike is met with a roar of anger, but I can see the Lorg is starting to slow. Its movements become more sluggish, its attacks less precise.
The massive lorg senses my tactics and adapts with terrifying swiftness. As I dart in for another strike, its immense paw lashes out with blinding speed, slamming me from the side.
White-hot agony lances through me as I'm sent hurtling across the clearing. I crash into an immense oak trunk with bone-jarring force, slumping to the loamy ground in a crumpled heap.
Blackness encroaches on the edges of my vision as I struggle to maintain consciousness. Fighting through the haze of pain, I force my head up to find the source of the fresh torrent of blood soaking the forest floor.
My left arm...it's been torn completely from its socket, hanging by a few shredded tendons and raveled muscle. Waves of nausea crash over me at the sight of the mangled stump.
The lorg bellows its triumph, beady eyes glittering with feral malice as it begins advancing again, each titanic step shaking the earth. I know in that instant that if it reaches me, I'm dead, regenerative abilities or no.
Staving off the creeping blackness, I drag myself upright using the tree trunk for leverage, clutching my ruined shoulder to staunch the obscene flow of blood. I have to...keep moving. Have to...escape.
Pushing past the blinding veil of agony, I turn and run, half-stumbling, half-lurching, deeper into the tangled forest depths. Each jarring step is a fresh torment, but the lorg's thunderous footfalls pursuing me are even greater motivation.
I can feel the regenerative process already starting to work, sinew and bone slowly re-knitting at an agonizing crawl. But it's not fast enough, even if I use {Rapid Regeneration}. The earth shakes violently as the lorg closes the distance, each crashing footfall bringing it nearer.
My arm is not the only wound I have, some bones and muscles are broken and sprained, so I decide to control my vitality to regenerate first the parts I need to run.
Even as I try to escape, the lorg manages to reach me, and in a fast swing it attacks me again. So I grit my teeth, move my left shoulder and block its attack with my bad arm, but that tears the last muscle and sinew that was keeping my arm attached.
My arm drops to the ground with a sickening thud as I scramble backwards, clutching the fresh stump to my body. The lorg rears back, jaws unhinged in a deafening roar of rage at having its prey elude it once more.
Agony lances through me, but I dimly register that by sacrificing my arm, I've managed to temporarily halt the rapid loss of blood. Calling on deep reserves, I divert the regenerative energies to knitting together my shattered ribs and battered legs - anything to keep me mobile and able to evade.
The lorg charges again, and I roll between its crashing strides, flecks of spittle and its fetid breath washing over me. I burst into a ragged sprint, half-crawling, half-running, fueled by desperation and the primal need to survive.
My vision swims and tunnels, the world tilting dangerously. But I don't stop, can't stop, not with that thunderous hell-beast still giving pursuit behind me...
Up ahead, a narrow crevice between two towering boulders...just large enough for my smaller frame to pass through, but surely too tight for the lorg's massive bulk. Putting on an extra burst of speed, I hurl myself towards the slender gap as the lorg's claws whisper through the air behind me.
I hit the ground sliding, squeezing my body through the tight space as the lorg's bestial roars of frustration shake the stones around me. Squirming deeper into the crevice, I finally reach a point where the aperture narrows too far for the lorg to follow.
Safe...for now at least. I collapse back against the rock face, chest heaving, cradling the stump of my arm as a cold sweat drenches my brow. Looking down, I can see the first signs of regrowth, fresh tissue and muscle beginning to knit outward from the grievous wound.
With some time and recovery, my regenerative capabilities will restore me fully. But that lorg...that unholy behemoth...it will still be out there, lurking, waiting to continue our battle. I run a trembling hand over my face, forcing myself to remain calm and focused.
I cannot show fear. I cannot afford even an inkling of doubt or hesitation. To survive, to be immortal.
