by M Helbig
“If we get high enough with Dirtsee, will you let us leave?” I asked.
“A new opponent will be brought in five minutes.”
“I thought you were supposed to answer one question for me if I won.”
“A win is a defeat of your opponent. A forfeit is a defeat of yourself.”
After trying every spell, ability, and potion my pieces and I had, it was determined that their shrunken state would have to continue; the description on the debuff seemed to indicate it was only reversible by the dirt elves. As usual, the Voice wouldn’t confirm that, but we figured it’d go away when we got to the end of their domain.
With nothing more to be gained, I grabbed my shrunken friends along with the other living pieces and headed toward the door. One of them stabbed me in the hand a few seconds later. I assumed it was one of the mole’s pieces, but when a familiar giggle followed, I realized it was Alizia. I thought I had the last laugh when I put her in my other hand and gave her a hard shake—until she vomited on me.
I put her back in the first hand while the special ability of my glove cleaned itself for me. “Take that, Alizia.”
I barely formed a smile as my face smacked into thick, gray muscle.
“No.”
Duels With More Than Two People
“No, what?” Alizia asked from my hand.
“No go,” the owner of the muscle said.
As I backed away, I gave my gray-skinned opponent a quick look over. His bright green eyes stared at me like he was taking in every inch of my being, though I didn’t feel the tingle of Inspect. There wasn’t a lick of hair anywhere on his head, not even eyebrows. None of that was too odd until I realized he didn’t have a mouth.
“No go, no mow?” Alizia asked.
“Me Moe. No yo,” the gray man replied.
“Yoyo, Moe throw fo show.”
“No, yoyo. Moe outgrow. Moe bro bestow banjo.”
“Moe show banjo?” Alizia gasped. “Can you teach me? Are you a Bard?”
“That didn’t rhyme,” I said.
“Who cares?” Alizia asked. “I wanna learn how to play. I need to learn an instrument to accompany my wonderful voice.”
“If by accompany you mean cover it up, then yes, please,” Olaf said.
The gray-skinned man moved forward to stare at Alizia and the other tiny people in my hands. He squinted for a bit before putting on a pair of yellow goggles. “Moe go solo to show—” He cleared his throat and the room shook. “Sorry, got caught up there. My name’s Moe and while I do possess a banjo, I’ve been traveling far and wide to find someone to play it for me. You see, my people, the oct aboro, have long revered the art of that instrument, but given our unusually fat fingers, are unable to play. I heard a rumor there was a Bard in the area who could play it for me.”
Alizia squealed and jumped up and down, shaking my palm. “A Bard! Here? Horus, we gotta find the Bard so he can teach me his class. Then, we can all go on tour and you two can be my backup dancers or roadies or something.”
The dwarf dressed as a bishop standing behind her crossed his arms. “Two? What about the rest of us?”
“Fine, you can all come. I’ll teach you how to Gregorian chant and beatbox, possibly together. Can anyone play the Xylophone?”
The Voice shook the room, nearly knocking Moe over. “Ahem. This room is a fighting pit, and combatants are not allowed to have backstories, side quests, or bonding experiences. Music is most definitely not permitted, unless it is a funeral dirge after the match is complete.”
Alizia turned around and stared at her fellow chess pieces. “So, which one of you I gotta slap around a bit? You, Mr. Rook? Combing your beard over the top of your head isn’t fooling anyone. Just go bald in style. Or how about that gnome behind you? Don’t think you can hide behind him. I know what to do with casters.”
A dark shadow covered my hand, and Alizia looked back to find Moe waving at her. “I think you have to fight me.”
“I demand a recount. We’re not even in the same weight class.” She cupped both hands over her mouth. “Hey, loud voice guy, I specifically had it put into my contract that I’d only fight opponents weaker than me. Now let Moe march out of here and replace him with something in a six-inch teddy bear or a kobold in a wheelchair.”
“Fighting that does not start in thirty seconds can be punished by unleashing the magic contained in the room. The management is not responsible for said magic killing all occupants of the room,” the Voice said.
“Tough crowd. Didn’t even unlock Diplomacy with that.” Alizia turned to me. “You’re up, Mr. Brains. Think up a way to get us out of this alive and be snappy about it.”
“Twenty-eight,” the Voice said.
Moe put his goggles away and cracked his knuckles.
I set the tiny people down and whispered to them. “I’m pretty sure that I’m the only one they consider Moe’s opponent, so I want you guys to get as far away as you can. Judging by how much more than normal my heal did on Alizia, I’m guessing the reverse is true for how much a normal-sized opponent can hurt you. So just stay out of this, and maybe they’ll forget about you, and you can escape when it’s over.”
Alizia frowned. “And what’s your plan for you, O Captain my Captain?”
I used Inspect on Moe.
Moe
Level: 10
Resists
Type: Regular
Light: 0
Race: Oct Aboro
Dark: 0
Faction: High Peak Oct Aboro
Earth: 60
HP: 520/520
Water: 60
MP: 0
Fire: -60
AP: 250/250
Wind: 60
AC: 90
Special Attributes: Crush Stone
Weaknesses: Claustrophobia
With that high of HPs and AC, going toe-to-toe with him was a very bad idea. I’d have to stay out of his reach to have any chance. The room was only about forty feet wide and long, which was barely enough room to kite him with Hamstrung and Root. It’d be close, but I’d probably be fine, as long as I was mindful of the tiny people. However, his Crush Stone ability gave me a better idea . . .
“Sorry, hairy fellow, but it’s you or me.” Moe roared and his gray skin shimmered with a blue energy. A flexing arm icon floated toward his head.
Raucous applause seemed to come from everywhere within the room.
I took a step to the left as Moe’s fist went straight for my face and almost froze in hesitation, but then remembered the lesson I’d learned from before. Worrying means death. Focus on the fight and nothing else. I spun and his fist crashed hard into the wall behind me, showering the room with bits of stone. When the dust settled, the wall was just as flat and polished as before.
“The room’s magic is contained within the walls,” the Voice said. “Interesting fact: in addition to being able to kill any occupants of the room on command, the magic makes the walls quite impervious to all attempts to break them, including but not limited to the Crush Stone ability. Even if one were to somehow penetrate the magic, the walls are made of a special stone that can quickly regenerate.”
Well, there went that idea. As soon as Moe’s right fist got back into position, his left one shot out. This time I was prepared for it and easily danced away. The good news was his punches were incredibly slow; the bad news was his feet were not. I was also pretty sure, given the noise of the impact with the wall, that I’d only survive two or three hits. I tried to make his feet as slow as the rest of him with Root, but the green vines slid off as soon as they touched him. A few more attempts returned the same result. His Earth resist was just too high.
I summoned my bow and managed to get him Hamstrung on the first try. Though with his high AC, the damage was pathetic. As he got closer, I temporarily put my bow back in my bag and sprinted to the other side of the room. It would have to be spells. Since he wasn’t undead, I only had one option and bonus points: He was weak against fire. Heat flo
wed from my fingertips a second later. Unfortunately, it had to hit the target for ten seconds before it did any damage. On my first try, I only got about five seconds in before I had to dart away. The spell fizzled as soon as I moved.
The tiny voice of one of the chess pieces—probably Alizia—said something, but I was too engrossed in the fight to listen. The booing from above was a little harder to block out; with a little more effort, I managed to push that away as well. If I was going to win this thing, I couldn’t let anything distract me. No cares. Like I learned in the Gerinashu fight.
Moe roared. “No one boos an oct aboro warrior! I’ll have your heads for this.” His meaty hands crashed against his chest from the other side of the room.
On my next try, I managed to make him sweat and get my first point of damage before I had to move. I singed his shirt and got a few more points on the next pass. As I ducked under his fist and spun away, I knew I finally had his timing down. This time I’ll light his whole shirt on fire. Boo this! I confidently set my foot down with a defiant stomp as I turned toward my foe and began the spell that would end this fight for once and all. My foot just as confidently slid out from under me.
“Serves you right, jerk!” Alizia said.
My head rolled to the side to find all the tiny chess pieces scampering away. No, one of them was missing—
“Horus, you must watch where you are going,” Olaf said.
“A little late for that,” Alizia said. “Since he’s obviously a moron, I’ll spell it out for him. You stepped on me and I died. I’ve decided not to rez back at the bind point yet, so I can elaborate on how dumb you are and say mean things about your hair. Speaking of which, you and your cheap haircut might want to get up.”
Knowing I probably wouldn’t have time to check Moe’s whereabouts, and owing it to Alizia to listen to her, I jumped up—this time mindful of the chess pieces. I could feel Moe’s side brush against my clothes as I rose to my feet. I activated Sprint and made it to the other side of the room. My attempt to cast Heat fizzled as my nerves returned. I tried to ignore the flood of doubts, but the familiar calm from before was gone.
“Olaf, can you see anything else in the room?” I asked in group chat. “Anything flammable?”
“No, the room is empty besides us,” he said.
“All rooms are empty when I’m not in them, especially when they contain jerks who crush their friends to death,” Alizia said.
“Alizia, I’m sorry.” This time, I tried something new and rolled between Moe’s legs. I managed to get eight seconds into casting Heat before the shaking started.
“Whatever. Thinking I might take up a new mentor. Do you think Gerinashu is accepting applications?”
“We killed him, so probably not,” Olaf said.
“One of the many challenges offered in our arenas is the one of dance,” the Voice said. “Attempting the wrong challenge in the wrong arena can often have disastrous consequences for participants—shockingly disastrous consequences.”
“You heard the man,” Moe said. “If we don’t finish this soon, he’s going to electrocute us all. Let me kill you, so at least one of us can live.”
I easily dodged his next fist. He followed it up with a second one. I barely managed to slide to the side, though he still clipped my ankle. Scrambling, I rolled over a few times before coming to rest against the wall.
I tried my bow again, but it was like throwing darts at a brick wall. His Armor Class was too high. I’d need to use spells, but Heat just wasn’t working anymore. I needed something faster.
Moe clipped me as I focused on my inventory interface. I turned it back off while I sprung up and barely managed to dodge his rocketing fists. It took another minute before I was sure I was safe enough to open up my inventory again. As much as I wanted to weigh the benefit of selling the Acid Pellet Scroll to upgrade my equipment versus learning the spell, there wasn’t time. The scroll disintegrated in my hands right as a gray fist shot forward.
I danced aside and my fingers started weaving in an unfamiliar pattern. Just as they began to shake, the spell completed. A tiny glob of acid shot out, connecting with Moe’s back shoulder for an incredible . . . 6.
“Come on, man. Die in dignity,” Moe said. “What’s your name? When I find the Bard, I’ll have him compose a song in your honor.”
I abruptly spun around and reversed course. I guessed correctly as his next punch landed right where I’d been headed. So I’d just wasted a scroll that was worth enough to upgrade the entire group’s equipment in order to learn a spell that did about as much as my arrows did with my old, crappy bow. A 1 ticked off from his shoulder right as a new debuff icon popped up above his head. Scratch that, the spell does as much damage as my old bow and a papercut. Woo-hoo! If I hit Moe another fifty times, I’ll have him dead a few hours after this sadistic gamemaster electrocutes me to death.
A tiny potion arched from the corner, exploding across Moe’s shin for an incredible 36. “Feel the wrath of the Dwarven Grenadier Brigade, Fightin’ Twenty-Seventh!”
Moe turned away from me and rushed toward the dwarf. There wasn’t time for me to summon my bow, so I hit him with the only thing I had available. The pellet of acid connected with the back of his knee. While it didn’t cause Hamstrung like an arrow would have, it did melt a hole in his pants, which steadily expanded as gravity pulled it down. I was thankful for the distraction as a sickening crunch came where Moe’s foot met the dwarf.
Another tiny potion arched from the left. “We’re going to die anyway when those bastards turn on the electric death or if Bigfoot forgets where he’s putting his big feet again, might as well go down slingin’,” a beaverkin said. “For the whatever-number-the-dwarf-said Brigade!”
Another potion flew from the right. “For Alizia!” Olaf said.
The potions took Moe down to 59% but he quickly stomped the beaverkin into a furry paste. As he turned to head for Olaf, I caught the long hole I’d made in his pants and an idea hit me.
This time I aimed my acid at his belt. With the distance he had to travel, I managed to get two casts in. His pants tumbled around his ankles only a few feet from Olaf. Several more tiny potions and a few spells cascaded from every direction. With Moe finally stationary, I unloaded with Heat—the sight of the squirming, already slightly burning foe quelling the last of my doubts and nerves. By the time he managed to get to his knees, he was so covered in flames that the pain forced him back down.
You have gained 900 Experience Points! 149,061/200,000 to next level.
You have received -250 Faction with the High Peak Octo Aboro. -250 High Peak Octo Aboro (Untrusted).
You have received 250 Faction with the Kingdom of Dirtsee. -500 Kingdom of Dirtsee (Untrusted).
Polite clapping came from above.
“Congratulations are usually given when a challenge is completed,” the Voice said. “After that, the challengers are usually moved on to the next arena.”
A door formed in the middle of the wall behind me and opened. I shrugged and headed toward it.
“Ahem,” Alizia said. “Forgetting something?”
“Oh, right,” I said. “And again, sorry.”
“My hero, the jerk.”
If she’d had the same gray skin as Moe, it might’ve taken me all day to find her corpse against the similarly colored stone of the room, but a minute later I found her bright green body flattened on the floor. Evidently Moe had stepped on it a few times as he’d run across the room. I gingerly picked it up in my free hand and tried to send it to my backpack for safekeeping, but an error popped up instead. I set it on the ground next to the remaining tiny people and the other two corpses I picked up along the way.
“Olaf, could you grab her for me?” I asked. “I’d like to have at least one of my hands free.”
“If she can’t get back here, it might be better if I rezzed her,” the dwarven bishop said. “Warnin’ though, it’s Minor Resurrection, which comes with a stat debuff for thirty minute
s.”
“I’ll take it,” Alizia said. “Hard to torment the guy who murdered me when he can’t see me being all judgmental.”
For once, I deserved everything she could throw at me. I felt terrible. I wanted to say something but the only thing that would come out was the sorriest “Sorry” I’d ever heard—halfway between a whimper and question. Even though I couldn’t see her in ghost form, I could picture her rolling her eyes at me.
I wouldn’t have to wait long to see her make that face in person again. The dwarf tripped twice in the long, embroidered robes that marked his office on the chessboard before he managed to get to Alizia’s corpse in my other palm. He slowly raised his arms from his sides with more and more golden power pouring out every second, until his hands finally met at the top of his head. A blinding light shone down from his hands onto the corpse, which levitated in front of him. Alizia’s body slowly re-inflated, rounding back out into its normal shape. Once that feat was complete, her eyes slowly opened and then her fingers and toes wiggled. I was so mesmerized I almost missed the fact that she was slowly growing back to her original size as well. I lowered both of them to the ground and the dwarf continued without missing a beat.
He repeated the process on the other corpses, but neither of them came back to life. The dwarf told us that they’d refused resurrection, preferring not to return in captivity. The dwarf shrugged and collapsed to the ground in exhaustion.
Alizia gave me a long stare and finally a wink. It was exactly the opposite of what I’d expected—which was actually the norm for Alizia. She topped the odd reunion off with a spastic dance.
“Again, I’m so sorry,” I said. “And I’m glad to see you’re back to normal. Does this mean you forgive me?”
“It was an honest mistake, I am sure,” Olaf said.
Alizia stopped her awkward dance and scrunched up her face at me. “Ahem. I am never normal by any definition of the word. But there is one thing you can do to make it up to me.”