Nick was supposed to meet the rest of his team, but he didn’t see anyone else in the ready room. I must be the first person to arrive. While he waited for the others to appear, he continued to inspect the chamber, seeking out any detail that might reveal what this challenge had in store. Peering past the vast arsenal engulfing him on all sides, he turned to consider the only unadorned surface of the enclosure. The final wall featured only a single, massive gate carved from rich red wood, the direction from which the loudest sounds were emanating. The arena floor must be on the other side.
Nick walked over and tried to peer through the cracks, eager to obtain even a hint of what lay beyond the barrier. But other than a thin line of sunlight, the gate confounded his efforts. The tiny gaps between the boards were too narrow to peek through. Frowning to himself, Nick turned his attention to the interior of the room. Hanging from the ceiling was a rectangular sheet of quartz, upon which a fifty-minute timer was counting down, reminding him that he only had a short while to prepare for the battle ahead.
Part of Nick’s brain was trying to piece together the clues embedded within his environment. Another fragment was busy sorting through the gear to determine which pieces he wanted to take, calculating how each item would increase his range of strategic options against various types of opponents. While his tactical brain was hard at work, Nick continued to pace, making a slow circuit of the chamber to inspect the objects clustered in the middle of the room.
Jutting up from the dead center was an engraved chunk of pink crystal that came up to his waist. Standing beside the rock made his skin tingle, and he realized that it was rapidly healing his blisters, cuts, and bruises. It seemed to be topping off his stamina as well, because Nick felt better than he had in weeks. Within a few minutes he was bursting with energy, like he had just got a full night’s sleep and started his morning off with a big cup of coffee.
That must be the regeneration stone the construct mentioned, Nick decided, idly wondering if there was any way to steal it before giving the effort up as a lost cause. It appeared that Taltos wanted everyone in top shape for the fight ahead. He wants us to put on a show. Something exciting enough to please the crowd. Good, that means we should have a real chance of winning. Or at least that our loss isn’t a forgone conclusion. With the System acting as a mediator, the fight should be a true competition, rather than a thinly veiled excuse for an execution.
Nick sighed in relief, calmed by having the constant stinging of his blisters fade away. It was replaced with a refreshing tingling sensation, which itched a bit as his sundered flesh wove itself back together. He was even happier to note that his knee no longer throbbed with every step he took. It should be completely restored within another few minutes, he grinned and started to stretch. It seemed that his mobility wouldn’t be a serious liability in this fight after all.
While he waited for the regeneration crystal to finish working its wonderous magic, Nick completed his survey of the interior of the chamber. He noticed that the floor was slightly inclined, leading to a series of drains in one corner. That must make it easier for the staff to wash away all the blood. Along both sides of the great crystal ran a series of curved benches, carved from a luxurious dark wood with spiraling grains that were bookended by a pair of freestanding sinks. Water was flowing freely from one pipe before draining into another mounted to the bottom of each basin.
He walked over to a sink to rinse off his sword, then washed away the grime from his neck and arms, now cleaner than he had been in weeks. If his situation wasn’t so serious, he would have been profoundly embarrassed by his ramshackle appearance. When he was done, Nick noticed that the room had changed while he was busy. Ten doors had appeared around the circumference of the chamber, each disappearing in a flash of orange light after a person stepped through. He realized that the door he had arrived through had vanished and then shook his head, wondering if he would ever get used to a life where such magic was commonplace.
Through the first door walked an athletic young man, carrying a wicked double-bladed axe that was nearly as tall as himself. He had sandy blond hair and navy-blue eyes. A steady gaze and a winning smile. His skin was bronzed with a dark tan, and he had a build that suggested some manner of professional athlete. He squinted, looking around before realizing that someone was already in the room. The athlete met Nick’s gaze, smiled wider while raising a hand in greeting, then sat down on the bench, lowering his axe to the floor with a sigh.
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The next person to emerge was a middle-aged man with a shaved head and a series of scars running across his neck and cheeks. His expression was intense, and his manner focused. Somehow, Nick could tell that he was already analyzing the room and its contents, working them into the plans whirling inside his head. Good. Someone else with a strategic outlook is more than welcome. The scarred man opened his mouth to say something, then realized that the others were still in the middle of arriving. Instead, the strategist offered a small bow in greeting, then moved to take a long drink from the sink beside Nick.
The next member of the team to walk through a door was a woman in her early thirties. She had dark skin, natural hair, and alert brown eyes. She was wearing rich blue robes that Nick suspected must have a self-maintenance modification, given how clean and crisp they appeared compared to everything else she was wearing. The robed woman offered Nick a wary stare, as if unsure whether his presence was a threat, before silently walking over and taking a seat on the bench as far away from the others as she could.
A few seconds later, another man emerged. He had curly brown hair, a sharp nose, and carried a longbow that came all the way up to his chest. The bowman wore a wry expression. His smile seemed to say that he expected the worst and was rarely disappointed. Unlike the others, he stayed on his feet, resting his weight against his massive bow, raising a hand in greeting as he took his place around the circle.
Hot on his heels came a woman and man in their late twenties. They appeared from adjoining doorways, then immediately moved to stand beside each other. Something in their features told Nick that they were siblings, even though the woman was as blond as the man was dark. That’s seven of us, he counted, pleased so far by the appearance of his teammates.
The next to arrive was a woman with medium skin that was covered in intricate tattoos, which were visible thanks to the light leather armor she wore. She moved with such agility and grace that Nick was certain she had sunk quite a few free points into dexterity. Something in the tattooed woman’s posture told him that she was trying to give away as little as possible. He caught her surreptitiously removing something from her wrist before sliding it into her pack, which he thought might be some manner of crossbow.
The strategist frowned at the sight of the tattooed woman, and looked like he might say something, but was interrupted by the arrival of the final three members. Two teenaged men and a woman who seemed a few years older stepped through their doors in unison before huddling together. They obviously knew one another, since the relief in seeing each other was clear in their eyes.
That was how Nick found himself sharing the chamber with ten other people, four women and six men, each looking around at each other and the gear lining the walls. When he heard a soft groan followed by a sharp curse, he realized that some of them were injured.
“Come stand by this crystal,” Nick gestured to the new arrivals. “It generates a field that has a powerful restorative property.” Everyone who wasn’t already in the circle moved into the center of the room. Staring up at their worried faces, Nick waited for someone to speak.
He knew that they were on the clock. That they needed to get organized before the first fight began. But while he was used to leading others in online games, Nick had little experience directing people in the flesh. On top of that, he hadn’t spoken to another person in over a month, unless you counted Bandit and the lemur tribe, and his social skills were dull as a rusty knife.
Fortunately, the strategist seemed happy to take charge, addressing the others with a no-nonsense attitude, although Nick could hear compassion in his tone flitting beside an intensely focused will. “It looks like everyone has arrived,” he said. “I can’t tell you how good it is to see some friendly faces at last. I would love to get to know all of you better, but if we want to live to see the other side of this ordeal, we need to make use of the little time we have left before our first fight begins.
“Why don’t we take turns introducing ourselves and our preferred fighting styles, while the rest of us start picking out our equipment? Everyone who is injured, stay near the crystal until you’re healed. If you need a piece of gear, point it out and I’ll bring it to you.”
With those words, Nick returned his attention to the clock on the crystal display, noticing that additional details had appeared on the screen when the last person arrived through their door, recapping what the liaison had told them.
Welcome to the grand arena of Papillion. You have volunteered to participate in a two round arena battle. The nature of your enemies will be revealed at the start of each fight. You have forty-five minutes to prepare and are welcome to use any of the gear available in this room.