Max the Dragon Warrior

by Whiskey Flowers

  “What happened?” Max asked curious.

  “Well in the end a street rat became a griffin rider” Rolfe said laughing. “He was quite a bit older than the people in the tournament and won easily against little kids. Many people cried foul but it wasn’t the winner’s fault no one wanted to show up to fight in the rain. The dragoon riders though, no real surprise with that lot”.

  “Did another street rat win?” Max asked.

  “Fuck no” Rolfe said laughing. “The big boys play there, mostly it has been seasoned soldiers from the army or body guards of the wealthy ladies beating the shit out of farmers and anyone else stupid enough to bring old rusty swords against people who do this for a living. The last tournament was won by some fat noble armed with some kind of Warhammer. Although that had nothing on the excitement of the first tournament which saw a dragoon rider crowned. The freaking Axe showed up and after nearly killing the first two people he faced someone found out who he was and just gave him the tournament”.

  “You’re not talking about the bandit the Axe are you?” Max replied.

  “Yeah I am” Rolfe replied. “Ask Mouse if you don’t believe me, the Axe walked right into the tournament wearing his pitch black armor and holding a big fucking Axe. The knickers didn’t even try to arrest him; after he won he signed on to the army and was given a dragoon. I hear they go to a special shortened class in your old city. Can you imagine the freaking Axe riding a dragoon? I bet he wins the grand tournament as well but no one will roll over for him there”.

  Max knew all about the Axe, everyone did. The Axe was the leader of a group of bandits that on one occasion even tangled with a mage and lived to tell about it. No one stole anything from the Axe, if you knew the stuff was his you left it alone. Max remembered hearing a story of how the Axe and his crew attacked a noble Lady’s estate and castrated her husband. There was even the tale of the Axe on a horse going blow for blow with a dragoon rider. The Axe was wanted all over Gale, the fact they let him walk in and fight showed how desperate the situation must be with the war looming. Rumor hand it in four or so months people would start getting pressed into service.

  “Well I am staying put until it’s time” Max said as he finished thinking.

  “Suit yourself Max” Rolfe said with a wave.

  Max waited for everyone to leave until he was alone, Francis had some hair brained idea about selling strength potions and had left with his brother. Max looked around and made a final check and looked down at his scales, he was lucky he didn’t sweat or he would be really stinky but nonetheless Max still needed to bathe himself. Max would use the bucket of water in the corner and scrub himself with the bar of soap. It did not take Max long to bathe, afterwards he slipped on another pair of clothes he had gotten and wondered about his next step. With the tournament over the money and job was likely to dry up, the merchant Clara had mentioned something about traveling to other places so that was one option. The army was looking for early recruits so that option was also available if Max wanted it. Whatever he chose he would have to do it quick, the tournament would be starting soon. Max grabbed his sword and his leather chest protector, hopefully he would get far in the tournament since the rule change went about. The final 32 men in the tournament received a monetary prize, the longer you last the more money you get. What was even better than that there were rumors the princess was here to see a tournament in the flesh. If Max could make it to the semifinals he might even get put in the Grand Tournament. Max made his way outside and as he thought the streets were empty. Everyone had to be at the town square which had been converted into a make shift arena. The rules of the actual fight was simple, keep someone on the ground for a count of three counted as a win. Any strikes that would normally be considered a kill shot would also count as an automatic win. Other than that contestants could score points on each other with every successful hit, first one to ten won the match.

  Max got to the square and could see everyone looked ready to fight, if a war broke out right now Max was sure this town could defend itself. Max was dressed like many of the men from the village, the poor ones anyway. He wore a cheap looking leather chest protector on top of some baggy clothing. Some men, probably rich nobles who saw this town as being filled with undisciplined fighters were garbed in excellent looking armor and weapons to match. The first tournament was for the honor of being a dragoon rider, Max had met several boys who had that job and thought they were all pricks and had come to a decision that he wanted nothing to do with them. However the money and the chance with the princess got everyone wrapped up in excitement.

  “There you are Max” mouse said as he tugged at Max’s shirt. “You are the first up against some old man armed with a pitchfork. He looks to have had his left leg shot off and I don’t think he has all of his fingers on one hand”.

  “Are you certain?” Max asked shocked.

  “Nah I’m lying Max” mouse said with a grin. “You are first up all right but your opponent is bigger than you are and has a hammer to fight with. There aint no cowardice in running from that bloke”.

  Max shook his head and got into the square, people cheered him as a man directed him to stand on the far side while a man in a breastplate stood across from him. The hammer wielder was big alright, he looked to have had outweighed Max by a decent margin but it was all stomach. There was no doubt this man was strong and could probably surprise some people with his speed like big dumb Gary had when he caught Max. Max had no time to think about that though as the signal was given and the fight began. Max’s opponent charged over and went to swing his hammer, Max instead of trying to block just dodged to the left and gave himself some space as the hammer wielder went for another blow. Max kept on his back foot as he was chased around the arena with the hammer wielder after him swinging wildly. Max went through the simple steps Francis had taught him, the hammer wielder saw it coming but moved too slow as Max scored a hit. The hammer wielder went wild and kicked Max in the chest which sent him crashing on his ass to the floor. Max was surprised at the maneuver but quickly got up just as the man brought his hammer down. He wasn’t trying to score, this man was trying to seriously hurt Max. Max attacked him again, this time he landed on the man’s arm then spinned away and attacked again with a reverse slash which caught the man on the back. The judges caught them both as Max then backed up as his opponent tried to strike back. Max was scoring at will now, he could strike and retreat often before his opponent could do anything. Max had the score at 9 to 1 and taunted his opponent who tried a kick again. Max saw it coming, twisted to the right and brought his foot solidly and connected with the man’s balls, sending his opponent crashing to floor cursing the whole way down. Max tapped him with his sword and was declared the winner as the crowd cheered.

  “You was supposed to be the lamb going to slaughter” Mouse said laughing. “That bloke was thought to go deep in this thing, but with the sun and everything no one expected him to win. Well the only thing he is going to be doing now is holding his poor balls”.

  Max laughed off Mouse’s comment and looked at the rest of the action, it looked for the most part that all of the toughest competitors were in his side of the bracket. This could have been done so the locals wouldn’t get discouraged but it was effective in thinning the herd. Max’s next fight went by easy enough, his opponent was a soldier but not a particularly flashy one. He was okay with the sword but gave up height and size to Max not to mention the considerable speed advantage. In the end the score was 10 to 6 which saw Max advance to the round of 32, he was guaranteed a couple of coppers just by making it here but most of the pushovers had been eliminated. His next opponents were all dangerous and used all kinds of different weapons. These men had skill, speed and strength so the easy wins were over with. Max had seen his next opponent fight before, this man used a real thin sword to fight with. The sword was good for attacking, the small flicks of the wrist this man used had his opponents bleeding from dozens of little cuts on their arms and legs. Stan
ding back and letting him opponent dictate the pace was something Max could not do.

  Just before Max’s battle was about to begin, the sound of an animal roaring got the crowd excited. It made Max jump a little, that was the sound of a dragoon Max still remembered how he could have been killed by one when the highborns hunted him. Max turned his head as a man led out a dragoon, this one was still a juvenile, about twice as big as a horse and snapped and growled at the sky as a team of handlers led it into the arena. When they gave the animal some meat it calmed down considerably, enough so that the warriors remaining were invited to touch it and give it a little piece of meat. Max stayed away from the animal as the crowd started oohing and aahing. As they led the beast off, horns started to sound. On the second floor of the inn that overlooked the square a window was opened. A female with long brown hair placed in a single braid that went over her shoulder stuck her top half out. On top of her head was a ring of some type Max thought at first until someone pointed and screamed it was the princess. If Max thought the applause the dragoon got was something then the noise level the princess got was deafening. Max’s opponent was already in the square waiting for Max as he went through a complicated routine. Max grabbed his sword and willed it to get hotter, in the early rounds he thought he could win without it, with this opponent that would be impossible.

  Max held his sword to the sky as the match started, he was not sure how hot it was but knew the radius that anyone could feel the heat coming off of it was not very far. The nimble soldier closed distance before Max could even drop his sword and scored a hit before bouncing away. Max charged him swinging and could tell the heat was working, just being in the vicinity of the sword made his opponent back up quickly. Max chased his opponent who despite not being as fast was definitely slippery as he landed another hit on Max. Max decided to rethink his game plan when his opponent scored twice more. Although Max’s clothes were ripped he definitely was not bleeding as the thin sword stood no chance of going through his scales but that couldn’t help him now. His opponent was crafty enough to avoid the heat Max put off with his sword to the point Max could not even lock swords with the man and already Max was down 4 points. Max cooled his sword and stopped chasing his opponent around. His opponent seemed happy to stop also and Max struck out with a wide sweeping attack. Just like he thought his opponent moved in for the score. Max dropped his sword and wrapped his hand around the thin blade and yanked hard, pulling the person attached to it within his grasp. His opponent looked shocked and tried to pull back as Max landed a hard punch to the man’s temple. His opponent crumpled to the ground as Max ripped his thin sword free and tossed it. The scales on the palm of his hands were not as tough as those found other places and Max could tell yanking the sword had caused its edge to bite into the scales and leave an uncomfortable feeling in its wake. It wasn’t pain or anything but the shredded but still attached scales made it seem like he had something stuck to his palm. Max flexed his hand as his opponent stumbled then fell out on the ground unable to beat the count. The crowd roared at this, Max soaked in their praise and could see even the princess had politely clapped for him.

  Max had made it to the round of 16, his side of the bracket though now contained nothing but the cream of this tournament, men who looked to have already proven themselves in battle. He was the youngest competitor by far on his side of the bracket. His last opponent was a trickster, a man with one good trick he exploited without end. In a real fight Max had no doubt he would have eventually killed the man as would anyone else in decent armor, but in this area Max would not be surprised if the man won a later tournament. Max watched the rest of the matches from his side of the bracket, they were brutal and filled with many injuries, it was by sheer luck no one was seriously injured or even killed. Max’s next opponent fought four or five steps ahead of his enemy, the man wasn’t too fast or even strong but he was a man to be feared. In the match he just won, his moves were almost like a dance, not the rush in score and rush out of his last opponent, but an attack that would make him a threat to multiple opponents. He would often swing his sword but follow it up with either a kick, spinning elbow or dodge out of the way. If Max didn’t know better it was almost like he had precognition, he would have his back turned to an opponent but still manage to move out of the way just in time and deliver what would be a deadly strike. This man probably knew all there was about sword fighting along with potential moves his opponent would most likely make. Max watched his opponent get into the arena as a man shoved the skilled warrior to the ground.

  “Oh no you don’t” said another sword wielding warrior. “You think you are better than we are, your trip ends here. I demand to face this man next instead of this commoner” the man said pointing at Max. “It is obvious that one is a local who should be fighting on the other side anyway”.

  “Boston, you will have your opportunity” The warrior said as he got off the ground.

  “I’m having this fight now before this boy gets lucky” Boston said as he pointed his sword at Max. “You know I’ll be your next opponent and might throw the fight”.

  “Boston, have you no honor for the rules?” the warrior asked as he pointed to the princess. “Her highness is but a few paces away and you act like this”.

  “You say what you want Golden” Boston said dismissing the princess. “Your ass told me wife about my girlfriend and now none of them are speaking to me”.

  “Boston for the last time, I do not know your wife or girlfriend” Golden said with a sigh. “If you are already married, then why are you in this tournament?”

  “What are you going to tell them both again?” Boston replied angrily. “I’ve had enough of your yapping, Pete said you did it, I trust Pete and you need a beating”.

  Max took in their conversation and started the chant of Fight! Fight! Fight! Soon the crowd joined in as whoever the Boston fellow was stood in the center of the ring urging them on. The princess even cracked a small smile and nodded her head. The fight was halted until the bracket had been redrawn, Max at first thought they would just switch him and Boston but got a nice surprise when he saw the bracket was entirely redone. He would face the local men up until the semifinals, this meant he could be one of the last four people and guaranteed a trip to the palace to fight in the grand tournament. If he could win just a couple of matches their then he could somewhat support himself and have a nice little savings until the war was over. The fight between Golden and Boston was brutal but very entertaining. It matched raw strength and speed against timing and skill, the end result was Golden winning with what would have been a killing blow but up until that point Boston was leading 8 points to 6. Max if he kept winning would meet up with Golden in the semifinals, then he would see how good the man really was.

  Max next two matches went by easily, the people he fought had some skill but not enough to overcome his quickness or strength. Max figured they had gotten as far as they did because they were fighting horrible opposition while he was getting roughed up by the cream of the crop. Max’s next match though was as he thought it would be, against the swordsman Golden. The match started and Max pushed himself faster than before, most of the time he remembered how to strike and use footwork, other times he was just interested in getting his sword hot and flailing at Golden with it. Max tried to keep the man off balance and on the defense, if Golden ever got the chance to dictate the pace Max didn’t like how it would end. From where the sword touched Golden’s armor even if briefly, left little dimples from the heat. After a furious pace that seemed to last forever Max took a breath and looked at the score, he was ahead four points to none but that was all he got as Golden went high to his left swung as Max moved to block his sword Golden let it drop, spun and swiped a sheathed dagger across his throat ending the match. The crowd gave a cheer for the display, Max was a little disappointed at the outcome. He had the speed, a magical sword and a strength advantage over his opponent yet he lost from a weapon and strike he never saw coming. Max’s thr
oat wasn’t covered in scales, that would have been a legitimate kill shot.

  “You have an odd style of fighting” Golden said as he stuck out his hand for Max to shake. “I don’t know what you were doing, but it was the first time I have ever encountered it. With a little practice you could eventually win one of these tournaments”.

  “Thanks I guess” Max replied still disappointed.

  “You have nothing to be ashamed of” Golden replied. “But if you tell me how you were able to produce so much heat that you not only ruined my armor but had me very nervous, I would pay you for the information”.

  “I don’t think that would be a good idea” Max replied as he looked around to see who was listening.

  “I don’t blame you” Golden replied. “I will see you at the grand tournament”.

  Max walked out of the makeshift arena where he was immediately given a small sack of money. Max looked inside and smiled, it was more money than he had ever seen. Max tucked the money near his privates and thought about his return, he would have to go back to the city, even if that meant confronting the street gangs or the highborns who lived there. Max didn’t wait to watch the ending of the tournament, instead he went back to the warehouse. Inside were Francis and his brother, frantically packing up goods.

  “What’s going on?” Max asked.

  “Time to go” Francis said as he grabbed armfuls of leather. “The potions I were selling got us into some trouble, not only that but that damn merchant figured out I was playing her. Right now she is probably watching the final in the tournament; I’m taking this opportunity to get the hell out of here. Best of luck to you Max, if you ever see me again perhaps we work another con”.