“This is the training arena,” Torbin explained. “Players come here to practice working together, settle disputes, and generally challenge themselves in a safe environment.”
A slender man in a red suit of armor ducked below the flying black shards his brown robed opponent conjured from nowhere. Rolling to the side, the red-suited man raised a glowing fist, and fire erupted from the ground in a long wave heading directly for the robed man.
The robed man calmly reached down, and Arron watched dumbfounded, as slabs of stone rocketed up from the ground and formed into half-circles at the ends of his arms. The stone appeared weightless in the way the man effortlessly waved the makeshift shields. Bringing the two slabs together, the he positioned them between himself and the wave of fire, blocking the worst of the heat.
It was an intense moment, where gusts of heat reached Arron from his position fifty yards away. Arron went slack-jawed as the man dropped the glowing pieces of stone, completely unharmed.
The man in red glared, his teeth gritted. “That’s a cheap trick, Fanghorn!”
Fanghorn smiled, the cowl of his robe not quite covering his mouth. “You are almost out, Ilor. Concede.”
“Oh, piss off,” Ilor replied, taking a step back. He crouched, bringing both hands in a cupped position at his side. Light and fire began to swirl between Ilor’s hands, growing brighter and brighter.
Fanghorn was no longer smiling. “Don’t throw cheese at me,” he warned.
Ilor just smiled in return, the ball of light and fire reaching a painful intensity.
With a deep inhale, Ilor stepped forward. “Kameha—”
Fanghorn reached up, made a gripping motion, and a giant hand 20 feet across erupted from the earth below Ilor. Earthen fingers wrapped around him, and as Fanghorn pulled down, sucked the man into the earth of the arena floor.
A moment later, a slight tremble rippled through the arena as something exploded underground.
At the edge of the arena, the red mage faded into view, stepping out of the arena. The look on that man’s face could have melted stone without magic.
“Our winner is Fanghorn!” an announcer exclaimed over an unseen loudspeaker.
Ilor walked off through the crowd, seething with rage and ignoring the announcer.
There was a smattering of clapping at the announcement. Clearly, Ilor had been some sort of fan favorite.
Even Torbin was a little gruff about “the coin he had on that match.”
“Anyway, we’re gonna do a run with the team,” Torbin said. “First, just us while you watch. Then we’ll see how we do if we incorporate ya. Test everything out in a safe environment.”
Arron just nodded, glancing at the ground where the man had disappeared. Clearly, “safe” was a debatable term here.
The announcer’s voice sounded again, “Back for another shot at Big Ugly, you all recognize these faithful heroes! Put your hands together for Torbin, Sonya, Iris, and Mercutio!”
A few unenthusiastic claps came from the stands.
Mercutio set himself up in the center of the field, arms in the air, taking in imaginary applause and blowing kisses to the crowd.
Sonya was slightly off to the side, her gaze focused on a massive iron gate opposite the team. Her lips pressed together in a thin line as she bent her legs in preparation.
Iris was nowhere to be seen, having faded from view the moment she walked onto the arena. Every now and then Arron would catch a fleeting glimpse of her as she moved around, but try as he might, he couldn’t keep her in view.
Torbin stood back towards the edge of the arena, shouting encouragement.
“Alright, we got this! Just like we practiced! Merc, make sure you time your pull. Sonya, you know what to do. Iris… let’s hope them new darts work!”
They each settled into their positions, eyes locked on the tall iron gate.
“Let the battle begin!” the announcer shouted in a far more cheerful voice than Arron expected, and the iron grate lifted.
A tirade of tiny shrieks cascaded out of the darkness of that tunnel, followed quickly by a swarm of bat-like creatures the size of small dogs. Arron focused on the beasts.
Inspection – Success!
– Blood Fiend – Fiend – Level 13 A small fiendish creature that survives on the blood of its victims. Commonly found in packs, they are known to overwhelm their target, sucking them dry. Specials: Blood Swarm
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The Blood Fiends moved through the air like a school of fish, turning as a group, almost graceful. They circled the arena before locking on Sonya and diving at top speed.
Dozens of tiny mouths opened, sharp teeth gleaming. Sonya held stoically still in the face of that danger.
“Why isn’t she moving?” Arron muttered, sitting forward, concern rising for his friend.
“Hey, Capulets! Fuck you!” Mercutio yelled, taking the thumb of his right hand and biting it in the direction of the oncoming fiends.
As one entity, the bat-creatures changed direction, flying directly at Mercutio, murder in their eyes.
The bard stepped backward, drawing the creatures in.
A moment later, Arron saw why.
With an arcane gesture, Sonya erected a massive wall of ice, inches in front of Mercutio, right before he would have been torn to pieces by the hundreds of tiny teeth.
The Blood Fiends crashed into the wall, several falling to the ground dazed. Others attempted to fly around the wall, still set on attacking the bard.
Even with the wall going up at just the right moment, a few of the leading fiends got through, and Mercutio took several bites and scratches while dispatching the blood suckers.
Thin darts flew through the air, sinking into Mercutio’s ass, healing the bard’s wounds.
Looking to where the darts had come from, Torbin was now laying on top of another ice wall Sonya had created, shooting his friends with what had to be healing darts.
The Blood Fiends were thrashing against each other in their frenzy to come around the edge of Sonya’s wall. Another wall of ice appeared in front of them, just like before, and the resulting thuds were almost comical.
With a few additional quick gestures, Sonya raised two more walls, boxing the Blood Fiends in.
Iris melted into view atop one of the ice walls, looking down at the screaming fiends.
With a gleeful smile, the rogue pulled three small vials off her belt and dropped them into the makeshift enclosure before backflipping gracefully off the wall. Green gas puffed out of the ice-cage, stinging the air with a sharp, acidic scent. With a gesture, Sonya conjured a final slab on top of the cage, enclosing the space.
The screams of the creatures turned from rage to pain, their tiny bodies smashing against the walls in a chorus of thuds.
Arron smiled as the thudding slowed. Eventually it stopped completely and the group tossed complements back and forth.
“Don’t get ahead of yourselves,” Torbin shouted from his perch. “We still got Big Ugly.”
The group quickly returned to their ready positions, Sonya waving away her conjured walls.
Arron was momentarily surprised there weren’t any bodies within the ice cage. “Ah, right. Video game,” he admonished himself.
An echoing roar burst from the tunnel, and the faces of Arron’s teammates became grim, determined. Thudding footsteps could be felt in the ground as something large bounded through the tunnel. A huge crimson humanoid burst onto the arena, looking left and right before locking gazes with the group.
Inspection – Meager Success!
– Blood Ogre – Fiend – Level ??? An evil creature created through dark ritual.
The Blood Ogre was twenty feet tall with a massive bald head on impossibly narrow shoulders. Drool the color of algae bubbled from its gap-toothed snarl, smearing a thick beard that sprouted chaotically from its short neck. Its long torso ended in a pair of unmatched legs, one shorter and thicker than the other, causing an almost hopping gait as it ran. Its arms were of similar dysmorphia; one thick and long enough to scrape across the ground from the beast’s stooped position, and the other, barely the size of Arron’s, dragged a massive club the size of an oak tree behind it.
The ogre screamed in rage at the group, loping into a charge with its awkward gait, swinging the club around its head.
Sonya pulled more walls of ice from the earth in the ogre’s path to direct the creature, but it smashed through with a single swing of its club. It glowered at Sonya, letting loose a primal scream that flicked bits of spittle around.
“Hey, ugly! Fuck you!” Mercutio yelled, drawing the attention of the red monstrosity. It turned toward the bard, heaving deep breaths full of malice.
“Fuck, that thing is nasty,” Arron mumbled.
Mercutio smiled, turned around, and dropped his pants to throw the beast a full moon. “You look worse than my ass!”
The ogre roared at the insult, erupting into a sprint at the bard.
Faster than Arron could follow, Mercutio’s pants were back up, and he was off.
Sonya rushed to slow the creature down, throwing up walls in its path and making areas of the arena slick after Mercutio had passed. Iris popped in and out of view sporadically, pulling handfuls of caltrops from a pouch at her belt and tossing them in front of the ogre.
Darts would occasionally sprout from the bard’s leg as Torbin shot him with one buff or another. The group did everything they could to funnel where the ogre would go or slow it down enough for Mercutio. And for a while it seemed to work. Mercutio would dance out of the way of its club strikes, sprinting short distances with tight turns as the creature tried to keep up. Staying one step ahead.
It wasn’t enough.
They just weren’t doing enough damage, and the ogre was gaining on the bard. Clearly the beast was not one to let go of something as insulting as the sight of another’s cheeks. It barely missed with a crushing overhanded swing of its club, leaving a huge divot in the space the bard had just skipped past.
Sweat dripped down the bard’s face. He wasn’t going to last much longer.
With a determined look, Sonya moved her hands, conjuring a rolling wave of ice shards that tumbled across the arena and slammed into the ogre, stunning it long enough to give Mercutio a little space.
Its baleful glare moved slowly as it turned toward the mage. Drool dripped from its teeth, a growl low in its throat.
“Sonya pulled agro!” Torbin shouted. “Merc, we need another—”
Torbin didn’t have time to finish. The ogre brought the club over its head, and smashed it directly onto Sonya, squashing her flat.
A brief moment of silence fell on the arena, the loudness of the crash giving everyone pause.
“Shit! Sonya down!” Torbin yelled, breaking the spell. “Unleash what you can.”
Shot after shot from Torbin smashed into the ogre. Dart after dart flew from a running Iris. The ogre screamed its rage at the assault, reaching for the dancing rogue but missing as she dodged through his fingers again and again.
“Hey, Dick Head!” Mercutio shouted, trying to give Iris some breathing room.
The ogre threw the tree sized club over its shoulder, not even turning.
Arron winced as the surprise move swiped Mercutio’s head clean from his body.
With a grunt, the ogre cupped both hands on the ground, grabbing Iris the way a child attempts to catch a butterfly. It picked her up to face level and growled. Iris, not to be outdone, roared back and stabbed it in the hand.
Not even flinching, the ogre bit her in half, swallowing her torso and holding her hips and legs in his hand like a candy bar.
Gunfire exploded from the ice wall Torbin lay across. He unloaded everything he had left on the creature, trying desperately to finish it off and get his team the win. The ogre chucked the lower half of Iris’s body into the wall. With a crack, the wall collapsed, and Torbin was buried under a few tons of ice.
“And again, Big Ugly manages to claim victory over Torbin, Sonya, Iris, and Mercutio. This is the third time this week, folks. It begins to make you wonder… are they repeating the same thing expecting a different result?” the announcer said.