Chapter 31

In the morning Roden joined his two companions in their sitting room as had become their morning ritual when they stayed at the Golden Dew. Everything seemed normal that morning until Roden got a good look at Riakon.

“Jeezus, what happened to you?!”

Riakon had a sullen look on his face. He looked drained in every sense of the word. He had dark bags under his eyes, something Roden didn’t know could happen to a scaly individual such as Riakon.

“I’m just a little tired after last night.”

Errrkkkk rolled his eyes, “Yeah cause you stayed up with that girl, cacaw.”

Roden raised an eyebrow,

“Nothing happened, we had a good time drinking and dancing. Then I went to bed.”

Errrkkkk tutted, “Don’t lie. I saw yall kissing in that dark corner, cacaw.”

Riakon looked alarmed, “What?! How?!”

The smirk on Errrkkkk’s face told everyone that he hadn’t seen anything and had just baited Riakon into revealing himself.

“See Roden, he’s not focused on the fight, cacaw.”

“I’m fine, I just need to rest a bit more… And maybe get an energy potion…”

By the time they made it to the arena, Riakon did not look any better. Riakon felt like he had been squeezed dry as if he were an already desiccated sponge left in the desert sun at noon. Nothing he tried had helped.

Coffee did next to nothing. The energy potion they swiped from G’Vaddle barely took the edge off. He had even slipped himself a little Faith Healing when Errrkkkk wasn’t looking with less results than the fucking coffee. In that moment, while they stood in front of the arena, he knew he had fucked up.

As they approached the entrance, Roden noticed Miriana was standing off to the side looking around, presumably for them. Roden directed the guys attention to his mother and they walked over.

“Hey Mom, what are you doing out here?”

She gave him a hug in greeting, “I just wanted to see you boys before your match, and let you know I booked a front row seat for today. So you should be able to see me cheering you on.”

Roden was conflicted, of course he wanted his mother to watch them, but he still felt something was off with her. He was conflicted in the notion that he both wanted her to watch so he could see her be proud of him, but also struggled with the fact this wasn’t his fucking mother.

His feelings were becoming more and more intertwined with his character. He had a sinking suspicion that this world and his place in it were starting to blend too perfectly and it all came back to Miriana, or Zamira.

“Oh that’s great, Mom! But do you really want to be around all those people? At least let me buy a few seats around you so you can have some space.”

Miriana smiled, “That isn’t necessary, most people tend to give me a wide berth already.”

Roden had to admit she wasn’t wrong. Her priestess attire with all of its Goddess of Death and Storms regalia marked her as a follower of Zamira. Once people spied that, they kept their distance out of prejudice or fear.

Roden gave a small laugh, “Okay okay, well I suppose we should get in there.” He said looking at the other two.

“Hell yeah, cacaw!”

“Oh… yeah.” Riakon just managing to sound coherent.

That time when they entered the arena lobby they were quickly ushered to what was being called the Champions room. It was the most magnificent preparation room they had seen yet. Complete with all the food and drinks their hearts desired. The spread of fruits both common and exotic actually had Roden’s mouth watering despite his uneasy stomach.

He was nervous. He didn’t know what to think about the current situation. Based on his recollection, they lost this fight. He thought he had created it to counter the tactics they had used up to that point in the campaign. They had failed because they failed to adapt in the moment.

His inclusion in the team already changed the way they fought. His presence shored up a lot of Errrkkkk and Riakon’s weaknesses. He tried to remember if there were any repercussions from this tournament, but he couldn’t remember everything.

He knew they ended up leaving the city for greener pastures, but they could still do that even if they won. He had to change his mindset and stop thinking like a player and focus on what he had going on behind the scenes.

He thought long and hard while he waited in the preparation room for their match. He struggled to recall what happened to their opponents after they had won. When the idea occurred to him there was something about it that drew his focus.

He felt like he had figured out the key point. Something happened with their opponents after this that played a role in the campaign's overarching narrative. He just couldn’t remember what that was for the life of him.

The thought plagued him like an itch he couldn’t scratch all the way through the tunnel and into the arena. The thought plagued him so he didn’t even hear their introduction by the announcer. It was their opponents’ introduction that jogged his memory.

“Innnnnnnnn the Blue Corner, we have a truly spectacular group to behold. Don’t close your eyes for a single second with this group or you will regret it. They are the sensational, the daring, the deep sleepers of the tournament, The Dream Team!!!”

The fucking Dream Team…It all finally clicked. His team did need to lose. If the Dream Team didn’t win, they wouldn’t get sent on a very important mission. Instead it would be given to his team and then they wouldn’t be where they needed to be at the right time, they would be off doing whatever the hell that contract entailed.

“Ready!!! Set!!!! Fight!!!!”

Oh shit, he thought. The fight had started. He wasn’t a complete idiot, he had all of his precursory spells cast and ready. His Grove Armor gave him his usual wooden knightly image with his Aegis on his arm and his flame cloak hung from his shoulders.

His head wasn’t in the fight as usual, but he knew what to do. Regardless if they were supposed to win or lose he had to make this look good and if he was being honest he wasn’t terribly happy with the situation.

Fuck these people and fuck this world. He grit his teeth. He was stuck in this fucking world of fantasy and was getting tired of being the goddamn arbiter of the story. Maybe it was time to change some things, maybe that was how he was supposed to get home. He was supposed to make the changes he wished he had all those years ago.

Errrkkkk and Riakon rushed across the stage as he expected. The team on the opposite side of the arena was a strange one compared to the ones they had fought up to this point. There were only two figures standing in the Blue Corner and they were both covered head to toe in dark baggy wrappings.

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That changed rapidly when the figure on the left, he knew was named Silas, but went by Morpheus, slapped his hand on the ground causing a surge of dark arcane energy to burst from the ground in front of him.

Out of the crackling magic rose a huge fiend with reddish skin. The fiend was Orina, a Birek fiend of Roden’s own creation specifically for this fight. She was Riakon’s counter and he had to admit she looked it.

Fuck this, he thought. Roden raised a hand up and aimed at the Blue Corner, “Conflagration!”

His spell sprang to life in his hand before he cast it off towards the team of fiends and master. Just as the spell was about to connect he watched it be pulled off course as if hit by a gale force wind.

To his horror he saw Silas with his hand up, an eddy of bluish energy in his hand sucked in his Conflagration like a vacuum. His eyes went wide, his confidence in their ability to win diminished precipitously.

Errrkkkk and Riakon ignored the demise of Roden’s spell and laid into the big fiend. Errrkkkk arrived first with a flurry of airborne kicks at the bruiser. She fended off each one expertly with high forearm blocks, swatting away his attacks with her left hands.

Riakon arrived in the midst of Errrkkkk’s assault and swung his hammer. To his shock the fiend caught it with her oversized right hand. She bellowed a war cry of rage and fury. Her muscles tensed and her eyes glowed. She yanked on the hammer, pulling Riakon off balance. Her follow up was a clothesline from hell from her massive veiny forearm straight to Riakon’s chest and neck.

Roden winced at the display of raw power, when he was struck by a spell he had not seen coming. Lucky for him, his various auras had blunted the bolt’s power. He saw the third member of the team had taken to the sky.

Her bat like wings were spread wide, and flapped just enough to keep her dainty frame aloft. That was Desdemona, the succubi that followed Silas around. She had shed her wrappings to unfurl her wings, showing off her clearly fiendish features.

Roden actually laughed to himself at the plan that formed in his mind. He narrowed his eyes and drew on his magic. He felt the power rise up and coalesce behind his eyes. The power grew until it felt like a dog pulling at its leash ready to chase down the squirrel that just ran by it.

He loosed the power and bright beams leapt from his eyes, straight toward Desdamona except the twin beams missed her completely, one passing on either side of her. This was definitely going to be tougher than he thought.

Silas was a Fiendologist, that meant the vast majority of his magic was tied up in the fiends he summoned. It was hard to remember all of the rituals and summoning matrix that allowed him to keep them at the ready. His mind didn’t have room for much more than that.

Thus he was left with his trusty Occult Arrow spell. It was an easy spell to remember, and had a ton of utility. It wasn’t terribly powerful and unlike other Common tier spells it never advanced to be more powerful as that would complicate the spell’s matrix. Instead he was just able to cast it faster as he grew more accustomed to the spell. He could currently manage two arrows at a time.

He ran to his right and cast both arrows straight at the birdfolk. One struck him in the wing, while the other sailed far right. He felt good about himself until his target stopped flipping around and focused his attention directly on him. Errrkkkk rushed the exposed summoner. His speed was blinding, and the series of strikes leveled at the cloaked man were impeccable. Silas was not used to taking punches from…well anything.

Riakon was not used to being laid out by a single punch, let alone being overpowered so handedly. The fiend loomed over him like an older sibling might do to strike fear into their younger counterpart. Riakon knew she was a fiend and that gave him great pleasure as he called up his holy water and blasted the unholy thing directly in her smug face. There were only a handful of creatures who took damage from his holy water and fiends were one of them.

He hopped to his feet as she stumbled back. The holy water sizzled and burned her skin like acid would a normal person. It was then Riakon remembered he could also use an acid breath. A voice tickled the back of his mind, “Do it!” He shook the voice away.

The momentary distraction was enough for Orina to close the distance between them and swing her massive fist at his head. It was Riakon’s turn to stop her attack in its tracks. He threw up his forearm in a high block.

Just as her fist was about to connect, his Faith Shield triggered, producing a golden barrier just above his skin halting her blow. Riakon saw this and grew confident, until he felt her two other fists slam into him from the other side. One fist crashed into his face, while the other delivered a brutal rib shot that nearly doubled him over.

The two beams passed on either side of Desdemona. The fact he missed was a good thing for her. Desdemona looked over and saw the fight was going just as they had planned. Unfortunately, that meant she had to deal with this guy all on her own until one of the others could come help. The plan was to stay out of reach of his swords and just keep him busy.

She charged up another Blood Bolt and sent it after the wooden knight. Between that damn aura of his and that big ass shield she wasn’t accomplishing much.

The succubi’s spell broke over his shield, not accomplishing much. As annoying as it was for him, he needed to get close. Roden devised a plan to rectify the situation. He ran toward her location and leapt into the air. His wood elf leaping ability helped him close the distance then just as he neared her, he vanished.

He reappeared about ten feet behind her. He immediately started to fall out of the air, not having any means of keeping himself aloft. He lashed out with a vine that wrapped around her waist. The combined force of his weight and the pull from his vine was enough to send his target crashing into the ground.

Roden managed to land a bit more gracefully. His armor absorbed the tiniest bit of the impact allowing him to keep his feet. He took that moment to glance over at Riakon and saw the Dragonkin was not having a good day.

Riakon’s groan caught Errrkkkk’s attention. He moved to take off toward his brother when he was struck with a wave of crackling energy. He turned and saw his opponent had drawn a scroll that was glowing with the same crackling energy. Errrkkkk knew very little about magic.

His knowledge essentially ended at, he absorbed magic and turned it into chi. However, there was no mistaking the feeling that came over him. That spell was a binding spell, an insidious binding spell that bound him to the ground, leaving him unable to fly.

That man was more clever than Errrkkkk had given him credit for, he had waited until Errrkkkk was too far away from either enemy to reach them without his wings. Errrkkkk grit his beak, and allowed his anger to bubble over. He drew on the chi from his entire being, he threw his head back letting out an avian screech as his aura surged.

Bright golden energy poured out of him in a torrent toward the sky. Wind whipped through the arena, buffeting everyone. Silas looked on, the horror on his face masked by his headwrap. The thought crossed his mind that maybe taking on the monk alone was a bad idea.

With his opponent in the dirt, Roden glanced over and saw Riakon and the big fiend were exchanging blows. Neither one gave much attention to defense. For every two of Riakon’s hammer strikes the fiend was landing three. He needed to do something, he held up his hands, aimed the bead of energy and spoke the incantation, “Ign…” before he could finish the word, he felt his body slowly begin to lock up.

His word came out as a garbled “mmmmmm”. He couldn’t even turn his head to see the surprised look on Desdemona's face. She had thrown that spell out of desperation; she hadn’t thought it would actually work on a cleric, a type of caster known for their mental fortitude. There was something strange about it though, as if something had cut down his natural defenses, or the even crazier thought crossed her mind, someone had tipped the scales in her favor.

Silas clicked his boots and launched himself into the air. The little wings on his ankles fluttered mightily as they lifted him into the sky. He fired off more Occult Arrows at his feathered opponent.

If looks could kill Errrkkkk’s would have wiped out the entire arena in front of him. To be grounded and then see his opponent fly was too much for the birdman to handle. He fired off a barrage of golden beams at the hovering Silas. The two combatant’s attacks passed by each other in midair.

Silas was unprepared for all four blasts to connect one after another, each one hurting more and more. The last nearly struck him in the head, but veered ever so slightly and took him in the shoulder. He couldn’t have been more thankful and out of reflex thanked the Gods, a habit he always found ironic considering his profession.

One of Silas's arrows flew wide of Errrkkkk, while the other was slapped out of the air by Errrkkkk’s wing. Silas reeled from the attacks, but could see things were going his way. Orina was wearing the paladin down and Desdemona had somehow caught the cleric in a binding spell of her own. He was starting to think they had this in the bag.

The way Riakon saw it, things were not looking good. Sure he was landing shots, but for every one he landed it felt like he was getting hit twice. That voice in the back of his mind was getting louder, “Do it!” was its constant command.

He had made up his mind in the beginning, he was not going to use his mother’s gifts. She could burn in hell for all he cared. The fiend’s big fucking fist slammed into him again. He had grown to hate that big fucking fist. It was a constant threat and when he would block the damn thing, he’d get battered by the other two from the left.

The fiend had pressured him all the way to the other side of the arena. Her nonstop assault kept taking ground away from him. They were nearly at the edge of the stage and Riakon was feeling exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to heal up and start the fight over, but he had little faith he could find the time in the midst of her onslaught.

He shoved back against that hated fist and tried to twist into a strike when an armored boot slammed into his chest ending him flying. He slid to a halt, his head hanging over the edge of the stage. He was starting to feel less confident in this fight, but at least he had found the time to heal.

A golden glow came over his body wiping away his bruises and reknitting the broken ribs he didn’t know he had until they clicked back into place. He stood once more, hammer up, “You ready for round two you big bitch!” Orina just smirked in reply as their fight began anew.

Roden could only watch as the succubus strolled up to him. She had already pulled the restraints from her dimensional bag.

‘Who the fuck carried restraints to an arena fight!’ He railed from his mental prison.

In a matter of seconds, Desdamona’s practiced hands had him wrapped up like a fat ham ready for the oven. She gave him a wink as she took off toward Errrkkkk and her master, leaving him alone and unable to move even if the spell wasn’t preventing him.

Grounded as he was, Errrkkkk was robbed of his greatest asset, his speed. In this situation, he wanted nothing more than to leave this pathetic summoner and go help Riakon. Without his wings he'd have to run. He focused his aura into his talons. They dug in, the ground cracked at the force he exerted. Without warning, he darted away from his flying opponent and raced toward Riakon his wings tucked back to avoid them slowing him down.

He felt two of those arrows catch him in the back as he ran, but did not care to acknowledge their master. He saw Riakon had used his Faith Healing and was looking better than he had the last time Errrkkkk had seen him. Errrkkkk leapt into a flying side kick at the fiend’s back. Errrkkkk felt his kick connect, but the fiend didn’t even move.

He pushed off and twisted. He threw a second kick at the fiend’s head which connected just below her jaw. Again the fiend did not move. She simply reached up and grabbed his leg with her massive hand. Errrkkkk moved quickly and felt himself slip from her grasp only for her to redouble her grip at the last second and hurl him through the air over Riakon’s head.

As Errrkkkk laid on the ground he felt the binding spell lift from his body. After all his training nothing could save him from gravity. He could do nothing, but watch as Riakon was pummeled by all three members of the opposing team. The big fiend had been too much for him already, adding in the other two was just a cruel exercise in endurance for the Dragonkin.

It wasn’t long before Riakon joined him on the ground having been kicked from the arena by the big fiend’s boot. In a twisted sense of humor, the fiend even carried Roden over wrapped up like a bundle of sticks and tossed him down beside them.

Roden hit the ground hard, bound as he was, he could do nothing to soften his fall. They had lost, and it didn’t feel good. It didn’t even feel close. Nothing had gone their way in that fight…

'Shouldn’t his Divine Gambit have kicked in? He had prepared it that morning as always. Yet, here he was never having used it, but the spell’s effect was gone as if he had never cast it at all.'

That disturbed him more than anything else.