Current Wealth: 196 gold 19 silver 32 copper
The day progressed, and Alora’s headache, fortunately, faded away well in advance of her match. That was the end of our good luck, because once she was called out for her own fight, it was Aja the Pithound who strolled into the arena to meet her.
Alora eyed him, glanced up at the organisers’ box, tilted her head in thought. Then turned around and walked out of the arena without another damned word. The match was called as her loss, and Beam was left with the next match.
Luckily, our hidden enemies seemed to have run out of psychopaths and one-man armies by then.
We were tense, regardless, as Beam faced off against his enemy. A smaller man who nonetheless had physical stats almost on-par with our brother. Whether this was bad luck or another attempt at fucking us by the organisers, it was difficult to tell. Had it been the latter, though, they were in for a nasty shock.
This guy would’ve had decent odds at victory the day before. Not now.
Beam closed in and took him apart in a way that humans just didn’t manage against other humans. It was like watching some machine at work, not a person. Wood in the chipper, meat in a blender. In under twenty seconds he was standing over a beaten down, surrendering enemy surrounded by chips and flakes of shredded steel. His rapier was barely hurt, and shone in a light which looked almost impossible for the day’s intensity.
As a fact, it was impossible. Solitaire had had the idea to try conjuring some ethereal enamel for his weapon to add anti-armour capabilities, and three days had been enough time to practise it. This was the first time I’d seen it used in anger. It didn’t disappoint.
Nightne came next, and I won’t even bother describing his victory. It was quicker than Beam’s, that’s about what you need to know. Argar was the last. His was harder fought, but not by much. I hadn’t paid much attention to his training, but I was there when we were fitting him with his armour, and I swore he had actually dropped at least a few pounds around the belly. Certainly moved like it, too, because his enemy was probably the equal of Magnus, and had armour on top of that. It wasn’t an advantage which afforded him much.
“I taught him that move.” The man himself noted, watching Argar from the seat beside me. “Used in my home country, good shield-breaker.”
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The term shield-breaker probably wouldn’t have been used literally, most of the time, which only made it more impressive to watch Argar smash his enemy’s shield fully in half, then send the wreckage of wood and iron-rimming flying to one side.
He still favoured an axe, Argar, but he used it a lot better now. Seemed to have picked up more in six days than I had in weeks.
“So he’s better than you?” I prodded Magnus, well aware of how easily his ego bruised. The man sniffed, about as short-fused as ever. “Might be one day, but not today.”
Elizabeth snorted beside him, eying the man as if he’d just drooled on himself.
“Didn’t he throw you yesterday? Not like Beam, I mean, actually throw you. As in he picked you up and…You know. Like a javelin.”
Magnus glared. He tended to do that a lot, I’d found, and more specifically he tended to do it with Elizabeth. And Helena. The two of them seemed to have formed some sort of blockade. Of all our new recruits- save Arthur- none hated fighting as much as them, so it made sense to me in that regard.
Solitaire, being Solitaire, had suggested they were also sleeping with each other. I’d dismissed that as the ramblings of a pornography-obssessed creep, but he was undeterred as ever.
Down below, the fight finished in quite a spectacular degree. Argar smashed the blunt side of his axe down hard enough that, had his enemy not been superhuman, I’d have been fearful for his life. As things were I saw a notable lack of any skulls being driven down into any spines, and, thankfully, an even greater lack of consciousness. His enemy crumpled, and the match was called. Argar actually collected a fair number of cheers on his way out.
“He’s become a bit of a favourite.” Beam informed me, clapping along with so much of the audience. “This has always been a noble-dominated event, but there’s enough commoners filling out the stadium that Argar’s getting a following for his birth alone.”
I smiled, happy for the big guy. Solitaire for his part smiled even more happily as he collected a few silvers from betting. He’d come intending to wager quite a lot, but had quickly decided against that as he realised the competition’s quality. Fair enough, better to keep less money than lose more.
One more match came, this one between two fighters that none of us considered particularly noteworthy. Their fight was barely moreso, ending shortly and easily. With it, ended the round.
We all sat there for a moment, processing our progress. Then I turned to Beam.
[Appraisal]
- Class: Dragonknight
- Level: 18
- Condition: Fine
- Modifiers: +4 Strength, +5 Speed, +5 Toughness, +6 Alertness
- Statistics: Strength 13, Speed 13, Dexterity 8, Stamina 9, Toughness 13, Alertness 14, Charisma 6, Intelligence 5
- Inventory: Local wear, plate armour, rapier
- Class abilities: Beloved II
- Current Experience Points: 386/560
- Unspent Skillpoints: 4
God, could he actually win this thing?