Rise of the Grandmaster

by Bradford Bates

  Cassie moved to her mark and waited.

  An announcer stepped into the ring. “Tonight, for your viewing pleasure, we have a fight that will be burned into your memories forever. In this corner, we have Half-pint, here to take on our champion.”

  Champion? Oh, fuck. I’m totally screwed.

  The announcer pointed to the other end of the ring. “Now it’s my sincere pleasure to introduce the destroyer of jaws, the purveyor of destruction, SMASHHHHHHHHH!”

  Everyone in the crowd chanted “Smash” over and over until a massive man jumped over the railing and into the ring. He looked at Cassie with eyes as hard as granite as he sneered. Smash turning his back on his opponent and flexed his arms, and the crowd went wild. A lady in the front almost swooned.

  He was obviously the crowd’s favorite, and while she was confident she’d survive a few hits, those hits were going to be a lot harder to swallow because of the man’s size. Cassie kind of felt like David Spade when he got into the fight with Chris Farley in Tommy Boy. Her face wasn’t going to hurt so much “here or here” as it was going to hurt all the fuck over.

  Getting hit by one of those fists would feel like it was a four by four.

  Nothing in her quest said she had to take the full force of the blows. It just said she had to let him hit her three times before she could fight back. As an avoidance tank, she couldn’t just dodge them. The entire point of the exercise was to get hit, but maybe she could spin with the hits to minimize the impact.

  She sure hoped so.

  The announcer looked at Cassie. “Are you ready?”

  Cassie wiped the sweat from her forehead and tried to focus her eyes. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  Turning away from Cassie, the announcer pointed at Smash. “Are you ready?”

  Smash just flexed and growled.

  The announcer made his way to the side of the ring and climbed on top of the railing before he looked at both of them one last time and roared, “Fight!”

  Smash played to the crowd for a moment before fixing on Cassie. “Sure you’re up for this, little girl?"

  “You probably get asked that a lot,” Cassie snarked. “Not a lot of second dates, I’m guessing.” She held up her hand with her fingers about an inch apart.

  “That big mouth of yours won’t save you here.” Smash started lumbering forward.

  Probably shouldn’t have egged him on when I have to let him hit me.

  “Fuck,” Cassie grumbled as she started to circle with the much bigger man.

  Smash didn’t waste any time. He moved quickly with his fist cocked back to end the fight in one blow. Cassie tried to move with the punch, but her brain and her feet weren’t aligned. Instead of turning her body so she rolled with the hit, she ended up ducking under it.

  Smash’s fist caught the back of her shoulder and sent Cassie tumbling to the ground. She rolled a few feet until she hit the barrier. Thankfully, the big oaf was more interested in the crowd than following up his attack. He walked around the ring with his arms held high as if hitting a girl a third his size was a major accomplishment.

  A groan escaped Cassie’s lips as she stood back up. Her adrenaline was doing its best to counteract the alcohol in her system. So far her vision had cleared the tiniest bit, but that didn’t help her shoulder feel better.

  Tomorrow was going to be a shitty day.

  Smash finished his victory lap and came toward her again. Cassie’s feet didn’t betray her this time as she rolled with his next punch, making it more of a glancing hit than an actual strike. She would have congratulated herself on the move but getting hit still hurt, whether you took the full force of the shot or not.

  The big fucker wasn’t done with her yet. His fist smashed into her side, lifting her from the ground. There hadn’t been a way to dodge that shot, at least not that Cassie knew of. She lay on the dirt floor thinking about her life choices.

  “Whatever possessed me to become a tank?” she mumbled to herself as the crowd cheered for Smash.

  “You say something to me?” Smash growled from across the ring. He leaned against the rail as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Grabbing one of the patron’s beers, he took a swig before handing it back.

  Now that Cassie didn’t have to get hit, she was pretty sure she could avoid all of his attacks. This fucker was about to learn the meaning of “the bigger they are, the harder they fall.”

  “Only that you hit like a girl. But I’m not surprised after what we talked about earlier.” Cassie held up her hand again, insulting his manhood. Why guys always fell for that shit, she didn’t know, but if you wanted a man to shut up, all you had to do was accuse him of having a small dick.

  Smash roared like Cassie had just told the world’s best mom joke on the playground before he rushed forward to end the fight. He opened his arms wide, obviously thinking to crush her against him until she gave up, but the last thing she wanted was to be pulled against his big hairy man-chest.

  Two tree trunk-sized arms closed on thin air as Cassie dove through Smash’s legs. She came to a stop behind him and spun on her knees while inflicting her first hit of the match. Cassie’s tiny fist slammed into the family jewels, but what would have brought a normal man down only seemed to enrage the hulking brute.

  Before Cassie could move out of the way, one of Smash’s massive feet slammed into her stomach. The kick sent her tumbling across the ring until she crashed into the wooden barrier. Tim was right; she did end up getting thrown through the air a lot.

  One of the many perks of being tiny.

  Trunks For Arms grabbed Cassie, lifting her in the air like a girl with her first doll. “You’re going to pay for that, bitch.” He pressed her tighter against him, attempting to crush the air from her lungs.

  “I already am.” Cassie grimaced. “Not sure what you had for lunch, but your breath is fucking atrocious.” She tried to look defiant but she was worried the fight was almost over.

  Cassie took a deep breath right before Smash tightened his arms again. Now she knew what it felt like when an anaconda got hold of you. Getting the air crushed out of her didn’t feel much better than when she thought she might drown following ShadowLily through the underwater cave.

  Sure, the ride out had been fun, but the thought of drowning just sucked.

  Cassie stared up into Smash’s smiling face and couldn’t wait to wipe the idiotic look from it. She started wiggling around, trying to get free, but it was fucking impossible. All her actions seemed to do was make the asshole excited.

  Smash grinned at her. “I knew deep down you really liked me. Maybe after you wake up, you’d like to come to my room? I’ll show you why they really call me Smash.”

  Her skin started to crawl. The thought of sleeping with this hulking ass-clown made her want to puke. There wasn’t any way she could wriggle free, but that didn’t mean it was over. If the idiot had just kept his mouth shut, she might have lost, but now she was determined to make him pay.

  Cassie tried to push herself away from him and managed to get an additional inch or two. Then she craned her head back. This is going to hurt. She snapped her head forward, ducking her chin to her chest as she did so.

  Crack!

  Blood splattered across Cassie’s forehead as it slammed into Smash’s nose. She didn’t give him time to recover. Instead, she reared back again. Her head snapped back three more times before the asshole let her go.

  Smash had his hands up, clutching his broken nose and massaging his jaw. He was groaning, but that wasn’t going to stop her from ending the fight right now. This time she wasn’t throwing an off-balance punch into his balls. Instead, it was a full-throttle kick to the man-parts.

  Smash went down in a heap. Before he could get his shit back together, Cassie slammed her knee into the back of his head and followed with a kick to the face. The big fucker was down for the count. She’d done it. The fight was over.

  The crowd went nuts.

  The noise hit her. Now tha
t the fight was over, she couldn’t keep her intoxication at bay. Cassie stumbled toward the edge of the ring. She paused for a moment, watching the crowd spin around her like images in a kaleidoscope, then puked all over the floor.

  A moment later, an arm wrapped around her waist, and ShadowLily pressed a cold cloth to her head. “Let’s get you back to the inn.”

  Cassie looked around, not really seeing the ring. “I won, right?”

  “Yep, and you readjusted his nose and the babymakers.” ShadowLily laughed. “It was one hell of a fight.”

  “You’ll have to tell me about it tomorrow.” Cassie sagged against her. “I’m not sure I’ll remember all of it.”

  “I’m sure the bruises will remind you.” ShadowLily helped her friend outside and whistled for a cart.

  They climbed into the open one-horse cart, and Cassie sunk into the cushion. “Can’t you just call your boy toy to fix me up?”

  “Tim’s more than a boy toy. At least, I think he is.” ShadowLily looked away from her friend, unwilling to watch her reaction to what she was about to say next. It scared her to say the words out loud, like saying them might destroy everything.

  “He might be the one,” ShadowLily whispered.

  When her friend didn’t say anything smart, the rogue looked at her. ShadowLily was afraid of the incredulous expression Cassie might be wearing, but if you couldn’t share your feelings with your best friend, what was the point of having one? Her eyes moved over Cassie’s face, and she let out a sigh of relief.

  The tank had fallen asleep.

  Chapter Sixty-Six

  “Come here for a moment, lad,” Ironbeard grumbled.

  Tim put down the last of the bars he’d been working on and moved to stand by his boss. Ironbeard wasn’t really a let’s talk kind of guy. Mostly Tim liked that the dwarf showed him how to do something and then left him alone. It gave him time to think and to come up with more of his wacky plans.

  “What’s going on, boss?” Tim pulled off his gloves and set them on the counter.

  The smith stroked his beard for a moment, thinking about how to phrase what was on his mind. “I just wanted to say that I’ve heard what you are doing in the slums, and I’m proud of you.”

  Not exactly sure how to respond, Tim mumbled, “Thank you.”

  “The real question is, what in the hell are you doing working here when those people need you?” The smith took a look at the bars Tim had made and shrugged. “Not that I don’t appreciate the help.”

  Tim wasn’t exactly sure how to say it. Did the NPCs know about the contracts they signed? He decided to just go with it. What was the worst that could happen? “The contract I signed to pay for my food and lodging requires me to work. I decided to work with you because I thought learning a skill would be beneficial.”

  “But why do it at all? None of those bastards at the temple are hurting for gold.” Ironbeard poked his head into the front of the shop to make sure no one had wandered in. “Your inn room couldn’t possibly cost that much.”

  Tim smiled. He didn’t even know what his inn room would cost if he had to pay for it. “Unlike the temple, I only charge what people can afford for my services. I make a little money, but not the kind you could retire on tomorrow.”

  The dwarf watched him for a moment, trying to decide if Tim was telling the truth. He seemed to be skeptical about someone not charging an arm and a leg for healing. “Well, I just wanted you to know it’s a good thing you’re doing. I was actually thinking of giving you some time off every day so you could do more healing.”

  Ironbeard wagged his finger in Tim’s face. “But only if you use the time for healing the needy.”

  “I might just take you up on that offer.” Tim’s face grew serious. “I still want to learn more about the work you do here, so I’ll promise to use the extra time for healing if you promise to teach me something new every couple of weeks.”

  “You’ve got a deal.” Ironbeard stuck out his hand.

  Tim clasped the dwarf’s hand. “So, does this new deal of ours start today?”

  The dwarf clapped Tim on the back. “You little shit.” He grinned. “Go ahead and get out of here, but if I ever need healing, I expect it to be free of charge.”

  “Never do anything for free that you can get paid for.” Tim laughed at the expression on Ironbeard’s face. The dwarf was stuck somewhere between rage and acceptance. “I’m just kidding. If you ever need healing, I’ll be happy to do it.”

  “Good, because I was about to change my mind about letting you go early.” He watched Tim as he walked out of the smithy. “Still might if you start slacking off.”

  Tim left the little shop and headed into the market. He hadn’t noticed anyone tracking him since the man with the orange sash died, but it paid to be cautious, especially with Jepsom’s representatives making new threats.

  Thankfully, he’d taken the lesson his death had taught him to heart. He now carried several different pants and shirt combinations with him. As long as someone didn’t see him change clothes, it would be hard for anyone to track him. Tim made his first wardrobe change and continued out of the market.

  He thought about using some of his extra time to go and see the high priest, but he really wanted to make it back to the inn. Ernie had found someone who worked in real estate for him to speak to, and Tim wanted to lock up some deals before he made any changes to the slums. If he didn’t own the properties, the only people benefitting from the gold he spent would be whoever owned the properties.

  Not that the rejuvenation effort was only about making gold, but if someone was going to make gold off of his labor, why shouldn’t it be him? The last thing Tim wanted was to make his part of the slums so nice none of the residents could afford to live or work there.

  At least most of the buildings near the inn looked like closed commercial properties and not homes. He wouldn’t feel like shit for buying an empty building and turning it into something nice. Once he owned a few other properties, he’d get the cobbles put in and place the market kiosk in the inn.

  People listing items on the kiosk would save money by not having to travel as far to list them. Hopefully, the money they saved would be spent at the shops lining the street as they left. All he had to do was fix up the buildings and get the right kind of shops in, and he was sitting on a money-generating machine.

  If Tim could obtain enough in-game currency, he could afford to send some home to his parents and have enough left over to make a payment on his delayed student loans. Then he could become an adventurer without worrying that he was letting everyone down. Sure he might lose his payment from the company, but if he played his cards right, there was a chance he could make more by taking a risk.

  Not exactly a risk when I have five back up plans, Tim thought to himself as he continued walking.

  He did wonder if he could keep his job with Ironbeard once he became an adventurer, but he’d worry about that afterward. What he needed to find out now was what the rest of the group wanted. Gaston was an NPC, and he’d been helpful, but they couldn’t drag him around forever. The man had to have some kind of life outside of helping them.

  Tim was a hundred percent sure ShadowLily was going the adventurer route, and Cassie was probably on board. JaKobi might not be ready to make the decision yet.

  Tim would feel a million times better if he knew he would be taking the plunge with a full group already in place.

  The only way to find out what everyone wanted was to ask them, something he’d neglected to do for far too long. Some leader he was. All he’d done so far was follow his own agenda, assuming everyone was on board with it. Things had worked out so far, but he had to do better. Friends deserve to feel like they are being included in the group’s decision-making, not given orders by the world’s worst boss.

  Not to mention his girlfriend. There isn’t a woman in the world that will put up with a man who is constantly telling them what to do. At least he’d never met a woman that enjoyed
being told how to run her life. ShadowLily was too important to him; her feelings had to be taken into consideration. What she wanted was just as important, if not more so, than what he wanted himself.

  That was the thing with love. Once you were in it, you realized that when you made the other person happy, it made you happy. It was a true partnership when both people in the relationship were selfless. Take care of each other, and everything will turn out fine.

  He’d been slacking on his end, and it was time to change that.

  Tim smiled as he neared the arch. Two familiar guards were standing in the archway watching something. Last time Tim had seen the guards take an interest in the slums, someone had been stabbed. He didn’t get the same vibe right now, so he wondered what was up.

  “What do you think those people are doing gathering around the side of the inn?” Chris asked his partner.

  “I don’t know. Maybe they are trying to guess the airspeed of a swallow.” Barry elbowed Chris in the side.

  Tim stepped up and peered between them. “Actually, I think they are waiting for me.”

  “Oh, get a load of this guy, Chris. Thinks he’s the duke of the slums,” Barry sniggered.

  “Duke of the slums.” Chris slapped his knee. “That’s a good one. I was just going to ask him if he’d started some kind of cult we need to be worried about.” Chris looked at Tim. “Anything you’d like to confess?”

  “You mean besides the cult I started, and the fact I know how fast a swallow can fly?” Tim stepped between the men before walking under the arch to enter the slums.

  “No one knows how fast a swallow flies. That’s the whole fucking point!” Barry shouted after him.

  “See how he didn’t respond to you” Chris poked Barry in the ribs. “Maybe he really is duke of the slums.”

  Tim gazed into the sky as a light rain started to fall. When he’d first entered the game, he’d hated that it always rained on him when he came back to the inn. Now he was starting to like it. The rain let him know he was close to home.