Friday, September 13, 2019

F³ Backstab


Carl leaped, and the lightning stuck, lancing down behind him, exactly where I wanted it, too. The blast hit six feet from where he had been standing, but it was still close enough that some watts went his way. More importantly, the blast of the lightning propelled him towards me, but he was no longer controlling his jump, not after the ear-splitting thunderclap washed over him.
Without concentration, his armor and sword faltered, and I launched a blast of wind at his feet that made him windmill as he tumbled to the ground. I held up a hand as walked over to him lightning dancing across my palm.
“Game, set, match,” I said.
“What?” he shouted. “You bastard! I can’t hear a thing!”
I let the lightning go and held out a hand. “Loser pays for lunch.”