by TJ Reynolds
Behind us, a file of aging wyverns followed, each draped with velvet blankets that must’ve passed for a cloak to the Sirrushi. I marveled at their varying sizes. The queen was perhaps fifty feet long in body, and her curled tail was beyond my guess. But many of these ancient beings were barely bigger than Pachi.
One of the elders came forward beside Pachi and I, passing a cold eye over us, and said, “Queen Matriarch. The council has been informed and will respect your decision on this matter. We wish only to tell you that we are… hesitant to overlook such an intrusion.”
The queen looked at us, her eyes glittering like enormous gemstones, “Thank you, Sethrius. I have heard the council. Now, I have been told many things. My advisers told me that our timeless sanctuary has been invaded, that the elves have come to spy on our horde only to report back and send their armies to steal the gems we so cherish.”
I opened my mouth to speak, yet the queen was not yet finished. She continued after regarding our reactions, saying, “I have also been told that the two of your saved one of my sons from the torments of a shestoni beast. Why are you here and what are your intentions?”
A hush fell over those assembled and even Pachi looked back to me. I was the one who would speak, but I didn’t have to enjoy it.
I stepped forward and opened my mouth. Remember how to address her, Pachi reminded me a second before I ruined the moment.
Snapping my mouth shut again, I coughed, then tried again. “Queen Matriarch of the Sirrushi wyverns. Thank you for meeting with us. I have never spoken with a queen before, so please excuse my nerves.”
The creature before me nodded her head gravely and waited for me to continue.
I told the queen about the ranger’s council, the Rat King’s many incursions, our camp in the glade to the north, and the finding of the shattered altar near the heated pool. Ending with the cave troll fight, I argued that Quelten be forgiven for inviting us here. “Please do not be angry with him. It was noble that he offered to help us. Would it not be wrong to accept aid when needed, then refuse to help those who came in a time of need?”
The elder who had spoken for the council hissed at me as I ended my speech. “Do not question the Queen Matriarch. If you do so again, I will eat you myself.”
Pachi growled, the thick ruff on her back rising.
“All is well,” the queen said, and the murmuring that had begun ceased. Pachi fidgeted a moment but went still as well. “We know of the betrayal of our cousins, the Fafniri. It is terrible news. Their leader, Anwar, has left his halls and their horde is scattered and abroad.”
I swallowed hard, hoping what I was about to reveal wouldn’t get Pachi and I skinned and thrown into the lake as fish food. “Anwar Flamestar is dead.”
A cascade of hissing and a few roars filled the chamber with noise. The queen’s eyes went wide and she bared her teeth. “Silence!” Again, those in attendance stilled their talons and their tongues. “How could one so old and mighty fall? Surely this Rat King could not wield such power.”
I tried to explain, “No, Queen Matriarch. Alysand Deschaney slew Anwar when he admitted his alliance with the Rat King. He is a gunsinger, a bullet bard.”
“We know of Sir Alysand. If he killed Anwar then I trust there was no other option. I had hoped that only a few of the Fafniri tribes had betrayed the rest. That Anwar knew and approved is dire news.” The queen paused and her great eyes flicked about the room as she thought. Then she spoke again, her head leaning close enough to me that I felt my hair stir from her breath. “I assume, then, that the Doondane seek our aid in this coming war?”
I just nodded, confirming her suspicions.
The elder raised a paw and the queen looked to him. “The council does not feel we should expend our strength to aid those who haven’t been allies in over a century. Why should we send our warriors to die? Why not let the Doondane fight on their own?”
The queen snapped back, “They were allies once, long ago.” Then she turned to me and said, “The ruins you saw on the top of the mountain. Do you know what they once were?”
I shook my head in answer and the queen continued. “Long ago, a pact was formed between the many races of Mariandor. We forged our tribes and peoples into something stronger, and we did so to fight the evil that came from across the ocean. The early men, the elves, the dwarves and wyverns, even the orcs and mountain trolls came. Our pact was formed and maintained by the Temple of the Heavens. But when the complacency of peace and prosperity had numbed the sensibilities of our ancestors, a war broke out in these very mountains. The Fafniri and Sirrushi wyverns were the first to draw blood, swift to rage as we are. The men turned on the elves next, and the dwarves stole many of our gems and fled.
“The pact was shattered. So, too, was the Temple of the Heavens broken. The magic that bound our peoples together destroyed the temple and its foundations. It is fitting that you should find one of the entrances to our caves by stumbling upon the temple. I see this as a good sign and will entertain the idea of joining with the other races again against a mighty evil. Yet before I rouse my horde and send forth the legions of Sirrushi wyverns, I must ask something from you, traveler.”
I responded honestly, “Anything within my power, Queen Matriarch, and you shall have it.”
The queen rose up from her throne and spoke in a voice loud enough that it was clear she was speaking to all present. “Much of our power came from the gems we so love. And many of those were taken. I would not have you seek out the dwarves, but there is one gem that is within our reach yet beyond our ability to recover. It is called Ruby of Souls. It is very important, and if you help up recover the gem, I will tell you why.”
The elders began to chatter among themselves, and even stolid Harnoth muttered under his breath.
“You want Pachi and I to retrieve this Ruby of Souls for you, then?”
The queen answered in a grave voice, “No, I am asking you to fulfill this quest for us. Unfortunately, the circumstances are very particular. This is a task you must undertake alone.”
Pachi growled and moved closer to me. You will not go alone. I won’t have it.
I placed a hand on Pachi’s back. Surely, there is a miscommunication. Be calm.
Making sure to remain respectful, I explained to the queen, “Pachi is my bonded companion. We go everywhere together. I do not think she will allow me to do this alone, nor is it clear why you ask for such a condition, Queen Matriarch. Can you explain?”
“We understand and hope that the majestic Pachi will understand, but the enemy that guards the gem has hidden itself away from this world. You must travel through a portal to get there, and only one being is allowed at a time. We have sent hundreds of warriors through, and to no avail, but you might succeed where they failed. You, Hana of the Kotoba clan, are a traveler and have therefore been blessed with immortality. If you fall in your quest, you will be reborn again, will you not?”
Pachi stepped towards the queen and prompted several guards to come forward in her defense, but the wyverns’ sage matriarch only threw them a stern glance. Speaking softly and directly to Pachi, who stood shaking, she said, “Even you, Pachi, if you fell, could not be recovered and resurrected. That is why we ask your friend to go where none else have the chance to succeed.”
I walked forward to hold Pachi by the neck and whispered a few comforting words in her ear. Then I kneeled and spoke as boldly as my terrified voice could muster. “I will go, Queen Matriarch, and I will go alone.”
8: “Not if we hold true to each other.”
— King Elessar Telcontar
MADI
Vomiting sounded like a fetching idea as I listened to the cackle and roar of a disturbingly excited crowd.
The announcer crooned, “I’m sure you can’t wait to see heads roll and heroes fall. And today will be no exception! We’ll start with one-on-one combat, then move to the Companion’s Cup preliminary rounds. But don’t leave before our day ends with the Battle Royale!”
The crowd predictably went nuts as the announcer turned to take in all sides of the arena, his arms wide and hands held up.
Teegan whispered to me, “It’s a bit much at first. I passed out in the middle of my first fight. The crowd can feel… heavy, at times.”
I spat on the ground near my seat and replied, “Not at all. This is a lot of fun. So glad I signed up,”
The announcer continued his tirade, saying, “I won’t tease you and keep you waiting, folks. I won’t mention that Teegan Shadespar himself has shown up for this competition!” The crowd barked approval and hatred alike. “No! No, I would never waste your time to let you know that a flame leopard from the sands of the Almawti Desert is here.”
Satisfaction and bravado played across the announcer’s face. He was a ruddy man, his hair disheveled and stubble covering his cheeks and jaw. His voice rose from a projected stage voice to the scream of a battle-field commander. “I won’t waste any more time! Here is the first fight. Randy the Reveler versus Steven B. Noobshanks!”
He jogged off the arena floor and through a narrow door to one side. It quickly closed behind him as two players walked out and met in the center of the arena. A referee appeared, having been hidden against the wall of the arena somewhere, and met the two combatants.
At his direction, they touched swords—one a heavy, two-handed thing that would have been better used as scrap metal, the other a simple short sword.
The crowd died down, and only the rustle of clothing and the shifting of seats was heard until the referee shouted from his place, “Fight!”
Randy the Reveler, wielding one of the biggest swords I’d ever seen, immediately threw out an attack, aiming to end the fight before it began. His armor consisted of bracers and tall boots. The only thing missing that would have pinned him as a perfect Conan knockoff was his lack of a loin cloth.
Though his attack was brash, his strength was easy to see. The huge sword whistled through the air, and Steven B. Noobshanks was forced to both backstep and deflect the greatsword with his buckler.
Two more blows landed on the buckler in quick succession and the crowd boomed. By the look of it, Randy had just used a skill. Perhaps this was what Whirlwind looked like if a player was using a greatsword.
To his credit, Steven did not look flustered, though his buckler was dented, and a chunk of wood was missing from its edge.
Rather than dart in and continue the foray, Steven remained calm and waited for the barbarian to explode again. He seemed more like a balanced soldier or maybe a duelist, with a simple vest, bracers, and greaves, all made of thick but flexible leather. He didn’t have to wait long.
A red glow wrapped around the bare-chested man’s body, and when he struck again, his speed had increased. He seemed to have just used Rampage, an HP-sapping ability, and the fight had just begun. The man was either confident or desperate, and I couldn’t help but be disappointed to see that my own hard-earned skills were so common.
Feeling like the fight was going his way, Randy screamed. Whether it was a buff or an attempt to debuff his foe with fear, I wasn’t sure. But no effect landed on Steven. The Barbarian activated Cleave next, the telltale white flash marking the passage of his blade. There was no way the buckler would hold up against the attack, and I thought the fight might be over. But Steven simply rolled under the blade and lifted his shield in place again.
I glanced over and saw a smile on Teegan’s lips. He made a single comment that told me how much I didn’t know about PvP combat. “Watch closely. It’s almost over.”
Randy struck out again, this time trying to land a kick after his attacks. Steven parried the attacks easily then lashed out with his sword, aiming at his opponent’s gut. Randy used Dodge and his whole body jerked to the side with uncanny speed, the attack missing by an inch.
Steven’s next attack was quick and controlled. He hooked the Barbarian’s sword with his buckler and pulled himself toward the huge man, driving the short sword up through Randy’s sternum.
For a moment, Randy the Reveler just stared down at his chest, the duelist still clutching him. Then Steven withdrew, releasing the greatsword by dropping his buckler and pulling his sword free. A line of blood beaded in the sand.
The crowd was tense and quiet, most as confused as I was. Steven bowed to the man even as Randy fell to the ground.
“Winner!” the referee called out and ran to lift up Steven’s sword hand. The blood on the blade trickled down and ran across the back of the duelist’s hand. No smile crossed his lips.
As the man exited the arena, I saw a few people scurry in with a stretcher and remove the fallen player on a stretcher.
I had to ask, “What the hell happened?”
Teegan nodded, “It was well done. The duelist allowed the man to display his skills and avoided or deflected them one by one. Then he used the moment of vulnerability that occurs after Dodge. It is a skill, so it is almost always successful, but there is half a second where the ability can’t be used again. For those who rely on skills instead of training, it can result in an unexpected ending.”
I shook my head and thought of all the times I’d used Dodge thinking it was the best thing to do. “And what of him?” I pointed to the Barbarian as he disappeared from the arena.
“He will be revived by an apothecary that is under the arena’s employ. That way, death penalties can be avoided. Still doesn’t feel very nice, but players wouldn’t compete if it meant risking XP and possibly losing a level.”
A familiar voice interrupted my thoughts. “Another exciting match for the record books! And to think, I almost put money down on the barbarian. Let’s hear it for our next match, Naomi Grymstarr of Nighnigh Town versus Donnell Fabulous!”
As the next two competitors walked out to meet one another in mortal combat, I laughed, sharing a look with Teegan. “Gamers and their freaking avatar names.”
Three more battles were fought before Teegan was called up. He gave me a fist bump then walked out toward the entrance of one of the two tunnels, which wound around the arena and opened up into the pit. When he emerged, his face was a mask.
The Rogue who faced him was a boy that looked to be younger than me, perhaps only fifteen or sixteen. He seemed to regret signing up for the tournament, and even dropped one of his daggers in the sand.
They were announced and the fight started. The boy made some effort to attack Teegan, but after sidestepping a few strikes, the elf showed mercy. He darted into the boy’s next attack, caught his wrist in one hand and struck his bicep with the other. The Rogue dropped his weapon and tried a clumsy stab down into Teegan’s back. The elf just caught that attack and threw the boy over his shoulder.
In a flash, Teegan’s own dagger was in his hand and pressed to the boy’s throat.
The boy cried out, loud enough for all to hear, “Yield! I yield!”
The display pissed the crowd off. A few of them even threw hunks of bread.
Unperturbed, Teegan was back sitting at my side in less than a minute.
A few other unremarkable fights went by until the first announcer came back out again. His face had turned a deeper shade of red and I thought he might be in his cups already.
He raised his hands to quiet the crowd. “I know some of you came for our next event. I certainly did. So why hold off a minute longer? It is time to start the Companion’s Cup!”
More cheering and somehow, a head of lettuce was tossed into the ring. I would’ve loved to meet the person who had literally thought to bring lettuce for just such an occasion.
He continued, “Our first round starts now, folks! Sharky D and his Siantine badger Charlie versus Sarina Harkonine and her magnificent peryton Momo!”
My jaw dropped as I saw the two fighters walk out with their companions. The Siantine badger named Charlie was in all ways a typical, husky badger. It was its size that threw me off. By the look of it, three to four hundred pounds. His head was wide, and as it yawned, it exposed rows of deadly tee
th.
I teased Tejón by saying, See that, buddy? That’s what I named you after. Not so much anymore, but when you were smaller, you looked like a badger.
Tejón huffed irritably and looked away. I am no longer sure if I like that name. The beast is so small.
Don’t worry, buddy, they fight like mad, I amended. He looked back toward the ring and seemed to ponder the creature’s capability again.
The peryton was as strange and beautiful as Pachi, a deer with wings folded on its back. It had the head and antlers of a deer, and even its front legs ended in hooves. But this creature had massive wings, bright green and blue feathers reflecting in the sun, scaled hind legs, and taloned bird feet. Its tail was a cascade of plumes that balanced its sleek frame.
“Spit on a stick, Teegan!” I said. “Have you ever seen one of those before?”
Teegan looked equally impressed. “I’ve only ever heard of them. That is a rare and powerful companion. What a lucky player.”
The bout began.
Solo matches were predictable in how they began and progressed, to an extent. One or both of the attackers had to strike out at their opponent. The fact that each side now had two members, and one was a beast with varying physical capabilities, made the entire situation become something more akin to a battle.
Sharky D was a warrior of some kind, and he held a large rectangular shield and a longsword. He stepped toward his foe, Charlie the badger moving at his side.
Their opponent, Sarina, had a buckler strapped to the back of her left hand and gripped a handful of javelins. She held another of the small spears in her right hand. The peryton trotted in place, almost like a horse, and remained behind her.
The warrior leapt forward and attacked, but Sarina quickly avoided the blow and thrust the tip of her spear into his side. The blow was ineffective, though, as Sharky D wore a powerful coat of scale mail.