The charging piasma swung its massive claw at the chest of its target—a troll runner called Hammer. Moving faster than the Awakened bear, the cybered troll shifted his body to the right, narrowly avoiding the violent blow. With the silver-haired bear drawn into a vulnerable position by its own inertia, the runner put all his weight behind the swing of his axe, burying it into the back of the enraged bear. The bear roared ferociously in pain as blood splattered everything nearby, including the troll. The piasma staggered backwards, and after a second or two, aggressively charged again at its prey, razor-sharp tusks lowered and ready to swing up and into vulnerable flesh.
“Chummer, are you sure this is the only way to collect this pelt? This seems a bit extreme to me,” gasped Hammer as he scrambled to get out of the way of the piasma’s massive maw as the bear snapped at him.
“Quite sure,” replied the calm voice of the human onlooker, standing just inside the camp. “You’re no good at using bows. And simply shooting the beast using a gun would contaminate the pelt with gunpowder residue and metallic residue. Enchanting with it after that would simply be impossible for me. Same thing goes with tranquilizers and other drugs. This animal must be killed with a properly prepared melee weapon per United Talismonger Association regulations, which in this case is the axe you are wielding.”
“How about magic?” the female elf called Silver asked. “I could simply stun this bear out with a spell, and make this a simple kill for him.”
“I’m sorry, my dear,” the talismonger replied. “Your astral signature could also affect the pelt’s aura negatively, potentially ruining the specimen for me. This needs to be a clean kill. If you want to be paid, this is how it needs to go down.”
The piasma charged once more at the troll. This time, the piasma connected with its claw, ripping into Hammer’s left shoulder with its claw and slamming the troll to the ground. Despite the obvious gash in his arm and shoulder, the troll rolled away from the bear towering over him on its hind legs and scrambled back to his feet with blood trickling liberally down the left arm of his body armor.
“And I’m sorry, there’s nowhere on that bear that I can jack into. So I’m pretty much useless here,” chimed in the team’s hacker, Megapulse. “Sorry, Hammer.”
“That’s all fine and good, but I also don’t want to see my chummer get killed,” Silver replied, simply ignoring their decker. After a few seconds, Silver asked, “Well, what if I were to cast on him? Would an armor spell on Hammer be out of the question?”
The talismonger thought about it for a few seconds. “No, I don’t see how that would screw things up.”
Without waiting for further explanation or permission, Silver cast her spell, enveloping the troll in a blue, translucent energy field, just as the bear swatted the troll again with its paw, this time connecting with the troll’s center mass. The troll once again went skittering along the forest floor, getting a mouthful of dirt in the process. But this time, the claws did not penetrate the troll’s flesh.
“ARGH … THAT FUCKING HURT,” roared the troll, grabbing at his ribs. It was likely at least a couple of them were broken from the mighty blow. Rising once more to his feet, Hammer swung furiously at the piasma. Swing after swing the troll struck the silver bear, drawing greater amounts of blood on the blade of the axe. Unrelenting, the very pissed-off troll swung his axe at the bear again and again until the bear fell before the Hammer’s feet, dead.
“There’s your fucking pelt,” growled the Hammer, throwing down the talismonger’s axe in rage. Looking at the female elf standing next to Mr. Johnson, Hammer grimaced, “First Cheyenne and that wonderful job that got both of our asses kicked, and now this! You certainly have a way of picking the crappy jobs for us! Never again will I go on one of these excursions where I get mauled! Contrary to popular belief, trolls are not meant to pick fights with Awakened bears!” The blood-stained troll started to move past the onlookers, heading toward his tent where he could patch up his shoulder and attend to his ribs. Glaring down at his chummer, Hammer looked down at his torn up shoulder and then back up to Silver. “And by the way, elf, you owe me a new set of armor.”
