If you've never been awakened in the middle of the night to an improbably-bearded man threatening you with a spear, then you probably won't be able to understand the feelings that assail me in this moment.

[Verkremond the Slayer has requested your quest 'Retrieve Knife from Schang Cat'.]

The hard look in Verkremond's eyes makes it entirely clear that 'no' is an unacceptable answer. The spear leveled at my face makes it entirely clear that my survival hinges on surrendering my quest - and with it, any claim to the most important tool I have.

But I'm not the sort to hand over what's mine without a fight, odds be damned.

I flip the schang cat corpse up into the air, imposing its body between myself and the glowing spear just as Verkremond registers the action as defiance and stabs downward. His spear sticks in the dead cat, letting out a truly vile stench as he punctures something that should not be punctured.

"Bless! Haste!" I call out the spells as I scrabble back, then roll to my feet. This time, thankfully, they both activate. Level 3 for the win!

Bless floods me with clarity and focus, while Haste feels colder and sharper, centered in my head but prickling all down my body, as the world seems to slow around me.

Not dramatically, I'm not suddenly quicksilver fast, but it buys me an extra split second between breaths, just enough to give me a dramatic edge in an equal fight.

Alas, this fight is not remotely equal. Verkremond is fast, and moving to kill. His mount, another of the crocodile-mouthed dinosaurs, is charging forward at me with equally violent intentions.

I jump behind the dinosaur corpse, which it looks like some quiet scavengers have been nibbling at while I was asleep, just evading the tip of the silver-glowing spear. It skids off the dead dinosaur's scales, sending up a scree of sparks and the shriek of metal on chitin.

"Give it to me!" Verkremond bellows, his voice clipped with an utterly foreign accent that my mind still somehow placed as 'between French and Indian'. "You stupid creature, you do not need to defy me for so little. It is only a quest!"

Yeah, right. 'Only' something you're willing to fight to the death over.

"You want my quest, well, too bad. You can't have my quest! It's mine, I found it, it came to ME!"

[Quest retained: 'Retrieve Knife from Schang Cat']

I have no way of knowing how valuable quests are in this world, but so far the evidence points to 'pretty valuable'.

So I run.

Haste gives me the edge there, allowing me to outpace Verkremond as he charges after me. His dinosaur, though, is another story. It may be big and slow in a fight, relatively, but get it going on a straight and it builds up some serious momentum.

I swerve in an arc, circling my campfire toward the open plain - as much as I'd love to trick it into slamming itself headfirst into a tree, I can't see in the dark. I'd be more likely to slam myself into a tree.

My mind races as I sprint, trying to think of some way out of this. I can probably take either Verkremond or the dino in a one-on-one, I trust my ability to heal whatever damage they inflict and can afford to ignore defence to go straight for the kill, but there's no way I can take them both if they can support each other.

I glance back, and see Verkremond's spear alongside the dinosaur's head. They've reunited, the man again seated upon his beast, and my fate is likely sealed.

But I wouldn't be me if I sat down quietly for Fate to do what it pleased. I'm going to survive. I'm going to win. And I'm not going to give up my quests to do it.

I crouch, hoping he can't see perfectly in the dark. His spear tracks me. Curses.

Well, then it's a good thing I prepared ahead of time this time.

You see, I found it... mildly infuriating, to say the least, that the closest thing I had to an attack spell - Needs Salt - couldn't be used in combat. So I took my ruined shirt, the front tattered into complete uselessness, and tied it into a rough bag, then cast Needs Salt about a dozen times until I ran out of energy, turning it into a manual salt bomb I could swing around by its tattered ends. The outside is crusted in salt, the inside is bulging with it.

It's currently sitting innocently by my campfire, waiting for its moment to come. As I jump to my feet and continue running, I circle us around back toward the glowing embers, barely visible but still bright enough to show up in the darkness.

I'm still moving faster than my pursuit, just barely, as long as I randomly change direction regularly to throw off the dino mount's momentum. I can't keep this up forever, so I'll only have one shot at this.

I turn and sprint straight toward the campfire. My heartbeat thuds in my ears, unbelievably fast, as I slow and grab for my salt sack.

For once, things go right. My hand lands on the knotted cloth and I scoop it up, jump over the fire, and continue running. I swing my impromptu weapon to get a feel for its weight. I'd have preferred having a few test shots to determine the range, but I'd have to wing it.

Hopefully, Bless will have me covered.

I pretend to stumble and flail, which turns into a real stumble as I misjudge my facade and slam face-first into the grass.

Well, at least this should get him in close. I wince preemptively, vividly imagining being skewered on that spear, as I roll to my feet and glance back.

He's too close. I'd hoped to have a bit more of a run-up, but there's no time.

I grab the shaft of his spear just behind the head and yank hard, hoping to tug it from his grip, or at least knock him off his dinosaur mount.

Instead his momentum drags me off my feet, the spearhead slamming painfully into my hand and the shaft leaving a friction burn, like trying to grab a tree branch from a moving car. (Do not attempt, very stupid and painful. Trust me.)

For a sudden disconcerting moment I can't tell up from down, my feet unable to find purchase on the ground, as Verkremond shakes his spear violently to dislodge me.

This guy is insanely strong. I'm sure I can't lift a human at the end of a spear with one hand while riding a dinosaur. I'd be impressed if I manage one of those things. Like, really impressed.

But the fact remains, he's trying to rob and murder me, and I don't want to be robbed or murdered. So... irreconcilable differences.

I'll have to ask someone else for workout tips.

I wasn't planning to do this while being dragged along by a dino-riding spearman, but... well, this is the situation in which I find myself.

I continue scrabbling my legs, trying to get enough of a footing to kick off from the ground. Even an instant will be enough.

"Haste, Bless," I say again, just in case they're starting to wear off, and the twin powers flash through my body once again. That seems to do the trick. My foot lands flat on the ground for a split-second, and I jump with all my strength while tugging on the spear shaft and swinging forward with the salt-shirt as hard as I can.

It works even better than I could have dreamed. The strained fabric bursts open upon contact with his face and he roars in pain as his eyes, nose, and open mouth are flooded with magic salt.

His grip on the spear loosens and I tumble free, glowing spear in hand, as he rubs at his eyes and spits and coughs and basically loses control of his dinosaur completely.

It, sadly, has its own grudge against me. Even with its rider temporarily out of commission, it knows its enemy.

It pulls up short, turns, and lets out a snarling roar that echoes off the hills, then charges.

I say my prayers and set my spear, bracing for impact. This is not going to be pretty.