Tormacc knew he fucked up. It was obvious in hindsight. He had gotten too used to the tunnels where there was little to no ambient sound and the clack of claws would easily alert him to the presence of an enemy. In the real-world, things didn’t work that way. There was always something to distract you, something to pull your attention away and mask what you needed to focus on. He should have been the one using that to get the jump on his enemies, but instead, they had used it to get the jump on him.

Slowly backing away, he watched as the moles sniffed the air. He wasn’t sure why, but he thanked his lucky stars they didn’t immediately charge him. Because of the light difference between the tunnel and the cave they had to have known he was there before he saw them, but they hadn’t attacked. The next few minutes featured an awkward standoff, where Tormacc did his best to back down the tunnel to the cave without making any sudden movements while the moles sniffed the air, slowly advancing as he was retreating. When he finally reached the cave he felt relief course through him, but it was short lived, as almost in tandem, the moles turned on him with their beady little eyes, now shining a bright red.

In sync, the moles charged while Tormacc dove to the right, barely avoiding their gnashing teeth. Unearthly screeches filled the cave as the moles turned, claws scrabbling for purchase on the leaf-strewn floor. As he dodged their charge a second time, he realized why there were so enraged: he was still covered in blood. They must have smelled their comrades but been confused about the source. Perhaps as expected of creatures that went berserk at the drop of a hat, they didn’t seem that bright.

Most of his plans for fighting two moles at once involved him dealing a killing blow to one before focusing on the other. That was a lot easier in theory, as in practice it was all he could do to avoid death as he danced around their reckless charges. Had the moles coordinated their attacks he would have long ago been ground to mush. All they had to do was have one charge, and while he dodged the first one, have the second one swoop in for the kill. That seemed to be too complicated for their enraged brains to understand though.

How it played out instead was they continued their reckless charges with unstoppable forward momentum, but because of their weight they were unable to turn in time, letting him escape with millimeters to spare by moving laterally. The dodges were always close, but he felt like as long as he paid attention he wasn’t in any real danger. But eventually the moles would coordinate their charges through sheer luck. He had to act before that happened.

It only took a second’s slip up for disaster to strike, and while he was distracted trying to search the cave for advantageous terrain he forgot to keep track of what was below his feet. Instead of his planned juke to the left his foot slipped on some moss and Tormacc found himself flat on his back, head ringing.

That should have been the end, but as chance would have it, his positioning put him smack dab in the middle of the two moles, and instead of them slowly closing in to finish their downed prey, they both charged, leaping forward with their powerful hind legs and smacking into each other head first. It was a freak moment, all three participants in the battle stunned and down for the count.

Tormacc recovered first, rolling to the side and slamming his dagger into the skull of the closest mole. The angle was a bit off, and as the blade entered he could feel it snap, breaking off and lodging inside. But his strike was true, and the fight was no longer two versus one. He wanted to capitalize on his momentum and finish off the second mole, but as he stood up the world tilted, and he found himself kissing the ground once more.

The other mole was still recovering too, so he took the time to stay down and recover his center of gravity, trying to use even those few seconds to activate the healing effects of his ritual. Soon enough the mole was back on its feet and the battle commenced once more. He now had to take down his foe without a weapon, but he would take his current position over fighting two enemies any day. When fighting two on one there were too many variables. Even if was forced into a more passive role in the current fight he was still in control. He just needed to create an opening.

While the moles were dumb, he didn’t think they were dumb enough to run into a wall at full speed, although apparently that didn’t apply to each other, but he didn’t want to box himself in by going near a wall either to try and attempt it. Them running into each other had been a happy accident, but it did give him an idea. Ducking a claw swipe, Tormacc maneuvered his way around the battlefield until he was in position. This time when the mole charged, he barely moved to the side. The mole, seeing an opportunity, adjusted course. But while its previous path was obstacle free, that tiny alteration to its trajectory caused it to brush against its fallen sister. The mole careened off course, spinning around, its right claw getting caught on its dead comrade. Waiting for his chance, Tormacc struck, sending an axe kick onto the mole’s head.

The first blow only stunned it, but after two more its head cracked like a watermelon dropped on concrete. Catching his breath, he sank down to the floor. He had to stop getting himself into these situations. The battle had been too close for comfort, and now he had lost his only weapon. One more unknown variable would have done him in.

As if in response to his thoughts, the body of the second move quivered, and he jumped to his feet, taking a fighting stance. His thoughts were racing, going from zombie moles, to exploding corpses. But instead of exploding, the corpse quivered again, before imploding, sucking into itself until with a small pop all that was left of the corpse was small, glowing crystal.

Wary of the unknown, it took him a few seconds to work up his courage to go near it. He wasn’t used to things imploding like that. Picking it up, the crystal was rather small, not even the length of his pinky. It had a soft white light suffusing it that was quite beautiful, each facet of the crystal clearly outlined and backlit by the inner glow. After a few seconds of examining it he felt it pulse with energy before he heard a voice in his head.

“Weapon or armor?”

He almost dropped the crystal in surprise. If it weren’t for the pulse of energy he would have thought he was going crazy. That, or there was a powerful telepath screwing with him. But he had a feeling this crystal was related to The Tower, and after checking his fate wheel, he noticed he didn’t get the Essence for killing the second mole. It appeared he got this crystal instead. Without any more information, he mentally responded “weapon”. The crystal then pulsed with energy three times, and after the third pulse he was no longer holding a crystal and was instead holding an axe. Which he then proceeded to drop, not expecting the sudden weight.

Sheepishly glancing around, he reached down to pick the axe up. It was a beautiful weapon, with a dark wooden handle and a dull, matte grey head. It was about as long as his arm, perhaps a bit shorter. Feeling the heft, it didn’t seem balanced for throwing, but he was sure it was perfecting for splitting someone’s skull. It was single-bladed, with a square shaped head. Just glancing at it was enough tell how sharp it was, and after giving it a few good swings he was quite satisfied hearing the blade whistling through the air.

This was a real weapon. Nothing like the knife he had been forced to use before. He was picturing how the previous battle would have gone if he had this axe. Two quick chops and done. He could already imagine the satisfying thunk of his axe cleaving a mole in two. With this he didn’t have to tiptoe around anymore. He could go on the hunt.

But before that he needed to retrieve his knife blade. He was enamored with his new axe, but it wasn’t useful for things like chopping vegetables or skinning corpses. He would have to create a makeshift handle, but it was worth retrieving the broken knife blade. After extracting the blade from the head of the mole, a task made much easier with his new axe, he picked up his pack from where he had thrown it earlier while he was in a standoff with the moles before choosing a tunnel. He was going to explore them all anyway, so he just made a mental note of which one he chose and which one he came from before heading in. With his new axe his plans had changed, and it was time to hunt some moles.

The tunnel started out much like the one he came from, filled with gouges and moss. But unlike before, Tormacc strode down it confidently. There were surely creatures that could threaten him, but now that he had a proper weapon, especially one with reach, the moles no longer fell into that category. The winner of a battle was determined by who could safely defeat the enemy, the key term being safely. A pyrrhic victory was no victory at all. Those that won were those who lived; nothing else mattered after a fight other than who walked away alive. Still, he felt much better about facing his fights head on rather than skulking around like a rat. Surprise attacks had their place, and he would use them when necessary, but conquering all with strength was the way of the warrior.

But when he heard sounds coming from the tunnel in front of him he still slowed down and showed caution. Much better a living warrior than a dead one. Holding his axe at the ready he advanced forwards, keeping an ear out for the sound of other moles. A short distance later and he came upon a lone mole feasting on red crystals. He was practically on top of it when he found it, as it was in a particularly deep gouge, almost a tunnel in its own right. The mole didn’t notice him, and he took the opportunity to advance a little way past it, straining his ears for more noise. Hearing none, he turned back to confront his foe.

Standing at the opening to the faux tunnel he tapped his axe on the tunnel wall, producing a loud clang. It took a moment for the mole to stop eating, but when it did, it turned, and seeing the intruder, charged, eyes glowing red. Waiting until the last possible second, Tormacc gave a short hop to the side to avoid the charge while swinging down with his axe. The mole never knew how it died. One second it was charging the enemy that had invaded its nest and the next it had a piece of metal in its brain.

He wouldn’t have normally provoked the mole like that, but he needed to test out his weapon in a real battle. It was one thing to have a battle plan visualized in your head and another execute that plan. He needed to know how he would perform with his new weapon, and he had passed the test with flying colors. For all the moles prodigious strength, they had rather weak defenses. As long as he could safely avoid their claws it should be relatively straightforward to deal them a killing blow.

With his new axe now christened with the enemy’s blood Tormacc resumed his exploration of the tunnels. He had been built for battle, and it was time to fulfill his role. It was time to conquer.