Omen: 8, 19
Jurot sat down opposite Adam, helping himself to some cheese as Kitool and Amokan finished circling around the arena. They didn’t need to talk about his win, since Jurot was the least likely to drop from Sir Gordan, even if he possessed First Ice. Jurot was pretty sure even Nobby would be able to beat Sir Gordan with Phantom in hand.
“Okay?” Amokan asked, gripping his magical blade tight.
“Okay,” Kitool replied, pointing Tigerstaff at him.
Amokan couldn’t allow her go first, so the moment the fight was called, he’d need to dart forward. Unfortunately for him, Kitool was, as always, quicker on the draw. Tigerstaff rained down against Amokan, and a final heel kick dropped Amokan before he could even managed to swing towards the lither Iyrman before him.
“My gods,” Adam whispered. “Is she…” Adam looked to Jurot. ‘Jurot’s tankier than the others too, isn’t he? So Kitool probably won’t be able to basically one shot him. Right?’
Jurot let slip none of his thoughts as he sipped his drink, eating the bread and cheese on offer. The others were able to read Adam’s face, and they, too, held the same thoughts.
Could Kitool beat Jurot?
Timojin threw Amokan a look as the Iyrman approached. Amokan relented with a bow of his head, taking his place beside his best friend. The group remained silent, as the one who typically directed the conversation, was preparing for his fight.
Amokan spotted something gleaming red from the corner of his eye. ‘What is that doing there?’
“Adam,” Sir Landon called as Adam swung Wraith in front of him casually, warming up for his fight.
“Yeah, yeah.”
Adam stepped out into the arena, holding the banner over his head. He walked around the arena to the cheering crowd, which had figured out the issue Adam was facing, and had long forgotten their reasons to jeer. Though the crowd typically alternated the chants, Adam could still hear shouts of his name when it was Sir Karra’s turn.
Adam smiled. He tossed the banner into the air, and though he drew Wraith with one hand, he held up a bottle of wine with the other. He gulped down the last bit of wine left within the bottle and dashed it against to the side, before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
Constitution Save
D20 + 6 = 23 (17)
“What are you doing?” Sir Karra asked.
“I’m just having some fun,” Adam replied, managing to stave away any drunkenness. He pointed Wraith towards the young knight. “Are you ready?”
Sir Karra glared at him through her visor. She wore full plate mail, and also wielded a great blade. As Sir Roseia’s contemporary, and a distant relative, she also had great magical items, though not quite at the level of her cousin. Still, her armour held Basic magic, and so did her shield, and sword was Greater Enhanced.
“Since you have no manners, I will have to teach you,” the knight said, raising her blade high.
“Yeah, yeah.” Adam sighed. “Let’s go.”
Battle Order
D20 + 1 = 6 (5)
Sir Karra swung her blade wildly downwards towards Adam, calling forth the magic of her oath. Her blade flashed white hot with divine magic as she almost struck true, her blade scraping across Adam’s puthral plate mail, sparks flying across.
Health: 78 -> 43
The crowd cheered as Adam was struck. He wiped his mouth with the back of his mind while Sir Karra’s blade clattered off his armour.
Stolen story; please report.
“I think it’s my turn?” Adam asked.
“What?” Sir Karra replied, bringing her shield up.
‘Is he doing it again?’ thought the third figure beside them.
Mana: 21 -> 20
Spell: Thunderous Smite
Attack - Wraith
D20 + 10 = 18 (8)
Omen: 8, 19 -> 8
19 + 10 = 29
Critical hit!
Mana: 20 -> 17
Ability: Divine Smite
Wraith: 3 -> 0
4D6 + 4D6 + 8D6 + 12D6 + 9 = 112 (1, 3, 4, 6)(3, 4, 5, 6)(1, 2, 2, 3, 3, 4, 5, 6)(2, 2, 3, 3, 3, 4, 4, 4, 4, 5, 5, 6)
112 damage!
Adam stepped past the falling body of Sir Karra, having struck her as harshly as he had with Sir Roseia. He removed his helmet, and bowed his head gently. He stared up at the crowd, glancing between them, his lips slowly forming a smirk.
“I surrender,” the Half Elf said, before taking a lap of victory around the arena, waving his axe around. A Guardian awkwardly stepped up to Sir Karra to heal her.
“That,” Jurot said, “is my brother.”
Adam’s title echoed through the arena, while the nobles and merchants watched from the octagon. Only one person dared to cackle at the results, her laughter echoing along the top floor. “What an audacious little Elf boy!”
Defeat?
Sir Karra
XP Gained: +400
XP: 13 500 -> 13 900
“Man, I can’t believe I didn’t make the top one hundred,” Adam said, sighing as he poured himself a drink.
“What?” Jurot asked.
“I lost against the two, meaning my points are only going to be zero, right?” Adam asked. “If I beat…” Adam paused, placing the bottle of wine down. He blinked. ‘What?’ “I’m bad at maths without being all stroppy about surrendering, so just let me go this one time, please.”
“I will show you mercy since you lost,” Jaygak assured, patting his back. “If you joined the Iyr officially, no one could have bullied you like this.”
“Maybe I should join the Iyr.”
“Please don’t.”
“You’re the one who advised me.”
“I was just stating the truth,” Jaygak replied, feigning annoyance.
Adam shrugged his shoulder. “Alright, so…”
“So?”
“What’s tomorrow looking like? Me against Vasera, Amokan against Gordan, and…”
“I will face Kitool.”
“Damn,” Adam whispered. “What a stacked day.”
“Vasera, too, surrendered in each of her fights.”
“How did it look?”
“She fought well, but surrendered after a few clashes,” Jurot said. “She is near their level.”
“Nice,” Adam whispered. “Since I don’t have to surrender, I should at least take third place, shouldn’t I?”
“Yes.”
“Being the same rank as Amokan…” Adam looked to the young man. “Being the same rank as the future, potential, Chief. Doesn’t that sound pretty good?”
“The potential Chief?” Amokan replied.
Adam winked, looking to Timojin. “I couldn’t tell between either of you who’d become Chief. It doesn’t matter if either of you become the Chief, because Cousin Turot will make sure you won’t bully me.”
Omen: 4, 17
‘I guess I can’t do that again?’
Ulaveil felt a sense of relief wash over her.
Adam’s eyes drifted to Amokan as the Iyrman circled around the arena. “He’s going to win, isn’t he?”
GREAT AMOKAN
‘Damn. Great is a pretty cool moniker.’
“If Amokan can land his blows, it will not be close,” Jurot said.
“Does he always have to fight like that?”
“It is the way he prefers to fight.”
“Even against someone like Sir Gordan? He’s got plate mail, and it’s probably magical.”
“Amokan is…”
“Amokan is Amokan,” Jaygak said.
The Iyrmen, including the teens, nodded their heads at Jaygak’s words.
‘I guess I should bet on one of ours, then…’
“Again?” Layla asked, leaning back in her chair. She rubbed her forehead, wondering why Adam would continue to harass her like this. She already had to deal with the fallout due to his supposed losses, and now he was taking the noble’s money?
“Should we refuse the bet?” one of her personal guards asked, before realising she had said something utterly stupid.
“Refuse the bet?” Layla snapped her quill. “If the nobles want to make deals with the fighters, that’s their choice to make. If they want to tell me to make less money, then they can take their gold and shove it up their-,”
The guard cleared her throat.
“They can find another great arena in East Port if they want to tell me how to do business! Don’t refuse his bet! In fact, tell him to bet more! I want to see him take all of their gold! Tell them to bet their estates too!” Layla snapped.
Not even the Duchess, the floor beneath, could hear the outburst since the magics kept sounds within their respective floors.
“One thousand gold?” Kira asked the Grand Master.
“A thousand gold,” Sir James confirmed. There was no way Gordan would lose to all three Iyrmen. Amokan was probably the weakest of the trio, and the best chance for Gordan to win. ‘Top three isn’t terrible.’
“Holy,” Adam whispered. “Was Amokan always that strong?”
The group watched as Gordan crumpled onto the ground.
“Yes.”
“When he hits, he really does hit,” Adam said. ‘He probably averages, what, thirty damage each hit? Without any smites? What a damn monster.’
Jurot nodded at Adam’s thoughts. Adam may be able to do average as much damage as Amokan, but Amokan could do it without using any magic.
“Third and fourth place have been decided then,” Adam said, before getting up. “I should probably claim my rank too.”
“Good luck,” Jurot said.
Adam glanced to the rest of his companions. “You better all bet on me! I’m going to bet at least half my coin!”