The Mehliad

Chapter 52
Continuing the tale of young Dan Fogelberg (no not that one), who fell asleep in a storm and woke in a fantastical, creepy land. Beyond that, your guess is as good as ours.

It came to this. Me and my trusty ward Aoelh faced the greatest menace the universe had ever seen: giant slugdicks that wanted control over literally every aspect of life itself. The Overlord Prime. I nodded to Aoelh and we leapt into action.

I swung the fireaxe viciously into the nearest glowing tendril, splitting it with a sickening thump. It writhed wildly, and I swung at the next. Aoelh produced a nearly limitless supply of his useless silver discs, and suddenly I realized their worth. He fired them in rapid succession, the razor-sharp edges shearing tendrils and tentacles and vines with ease.

We were whirling dervishes, all axe blades and death. The sickly yellow glow in the tentacles leaked out with each wound, but the Overlord Prime seemed unable to stop us.

“What are you doing,” it hissed, “Stop it!” Tendrils slapped feebly at us, but the initial shock had taken the Overlord back. “You don’t know the damage you’ll do!”

“I have a pretty good idea,” I grunted through clenched teeth. And I kept chopping.