Kip shivered as he stared up at the South entrance of the labyrinth. The other kobolds had offered him some armor but Kip refused. Having never worn armor before and wielding miniscule strength, Kip knew the effects of the armor would be detrimental. He would have moved slower, tired quicker, and done little good against someone of Davorin’s monstrous capabilities. Kip was nervous for the fight, but even more nervous at the crowd.

When The Dark Lord took on this plot of land, it came with an abandoned factory. The walls were ready to come down at any moment, the ceiling was already caved in, and there was a strange smell like old shoe leather that no matter how hard they scrubbed would not come out. When the Dark Lord ordered his subjects to refurbish the factory into a labyrinth, he asked that they create a retractable ceiling. On days where the sun shone, the kobolds would retract said retractable ceiling and allow the mazefolk to bask in the sun. Zeke was appreciative, the clockwork were ambivalent. On a day like today, the ceiling was retracted. For there were so many denizens of the dark that had come to see the fight between the heir apparent and the new Dark Lord that they could not all sit on the edges of the labyrinth.

Zeke sat amongst the numbers for the roof could not sustain someone so large on top of all the other weight. The numbers cheered, drank, and placed bets. Azami stood on the roof having calmed her nerves with enough herbal infusion tea to sedate a bear. Stormbristle floated in the rafters, gently bobbing. It was his version of pacing around a room. Everyone who could be there that day had decided to come and watch.

Kip was never one for big crowds. Nor was he one for small groups. He also sometimes struggled with one-on-ones. No, Kip was best left to fidget with gadgets alone within his own head. He revised his plan over and over as a way to escape the constant rattling he heard from everyone around him. He could not block them out when the cheers became even louder. With that, he knew Davorin had entered the North entrance.

“Act.” Kip whispered to himself, “It’s a good plan. Act.”

Maeve, a banshee from the swamp, wisped through the labyrinth as her tattered robes waved and flowed behind her. She would go to one wall and raise her hands, that side would cheer. She would travel to a new side and do the same thing, making it her job to rile people up. Her booming shrieks made her the obvious choice to MC this challenge.

“Creatures and cretins! Boils and Ghouls!” Her voice filled the factory, “We have a very lovely show for you tonight! Not for years have the Succession articles been invoked! And now we have the prince of Darkness, the annihilator, Davorin the Unquenchable fighting… Kip!”

“SQUASH THAT LITTLE FREAK!” Kip could hear Zeke screaming up above him. Kip looked up, “Zeke!” He whispered, “Are you talking about me?”

“Huh?” Zeke asked as he looked down, “Oh, Kip! I didn’t know you were here.” Then cheering said, “TAKE IT EASY ON THAT LITTLE FREAK!”

The crowd continued to cheer, but when Davorin raised his hand, the mob went silent. Davorin looked through the crowd, then pointed at a goblin, “You booed.”

The goblin looked around but realized he was the one being referred to. He pointed at another goblin but Davorin shook his head, “It was you.”

The Goblin tried to turn away but when he turned back Davorin was right in front of him. Davorin stuck his nail straight through the goblin’s gut. The goblin let out a blood-curdling scream. As quickly as Davorin entered the Goblin, he pulled out and shot back to his place in the North entrance. Kip saw that with his mouth open, how the hell was he supposed to survive that?”

“May we get some medical assistance?” The banshee shouted, “Now! Onto the rules!”

The banshee floated around the amphitheater, and made her way back to the center, “The rule is, you must lay a finger on your opponent. A punch does not count. A slap does not count. A finger. The entire labyrinth is the field. This gives Kip a slight home field advantage. But physically, Davorin has the majority of the advantage.”

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You just have to bring my height into it, don’t you, Maeve? Kip thought as the banshee continued, Act. Act. He’s going to use action immediately. It’s not about me. Act.

“And now… we’ll begin!” Maeve said.

Kip psyched himself up, as ready as he could be for what was about to go down, “Move. Move.”

“3…

2…

1… Go!”

Kip darted into the labyrinth. The banshee described what was happening. “And now, Kip has escaped into the dungeon! He’s moving through with purpose! But what's this? Lord Davorin has not entered the labyrinth at all! He’s still standing at the entrance. What could this mean? Could he be scared to go in?”

Kip heard this but kept running. He had determined a couple of choice pinch points in the labyrinth that would work to his advantage, hoping to meet Davorin there.

Davorin stood there as everyone’s initial cheers quieted down with suspense. Davorin leapt atop the twelve foot labyrinth wall with ease. He hopped along the walls as gracefully as a deer jotting through a field. His foot never slipped or missed the edge as he maneuvered his way to the middle room.

“And he’s standing dead in the middle, everyone! He’s just… standing there next to the exit, crossing his arms, not doing anything!”

Kip stopped running, he could not see atop the walls. Davorin was in the middle?! The exit? In the middle room was a giant hole that led to the floors below, made for Intruders to head down. What could Davorin want there? Could it be a trap?

“It is not lost on me that there is a difference in skill between my opponent and I,” Davorin said to everybody, “I have considered my enemy’s… limitations and have determined that to proceed without handicap would be bad sport. I shall give you precisely five minutes, Kit. Five minutes where I do not lay a finger on you, and you have a free chance.”

“The magnanimous Davorin is giving the new Dark Lord a fair shake! He is standing in the middle of the Exit room, giving him an open invitation to touch him! One has to wonder if this is a trap…”

“This is not a trap. I’ll be reading while I wait,” Then Davorin took out a book he’d stuffed in his breast pocket and sat on one of the armchairs against the wall.

A free shot. Kip ran toward the middle as he thought. Five minutes. That was not a lot of time. Kip wriggled through a gap in the walls and went onward. There would be no need to play such a cruel trick. Davorin could easily best him. This must be a sincere consideration after their confrontation. Maybe it was meant to mock Kip but that didn’t mean Kip couldn’t take full advantage. Kip ran toward the center. When he entered the Exit room, he half expected to be torn limb from limb. But no, there Davorin was, right where he promised he’d be. Lord Davorin sitting in a chair next to the west entrance, reading his book.

“It’s about time.” Davorin said, “I was just getting to the end of my chapter.”

“What’s your game?” Kip asked.

The vampire smirked but did not look up from his book, “I thought I was the mouse in your game? Was I not?”

“A free touch? Really?” Kip asked, half scared to approach.

“Time’s running out,” Was all he said as he flipped the page.

Kip ran around the large hole in the floor toward Davorin. The vampire sat there, a smug expression on his face. Kip ran as fast as his little legs could carry him, he reached out, closing his eyes wondering if this would all be over and… his hand touched the felt of the chair. He opened them. Davorin was in the chair next to it.

How did he mess that up? Kip looked at the chair confused, then closed his eyes and did the same thing.

“Old chap, you really are not going to do well in this fight if you keep your eyes closed.”

Kip opened them again. Once again his hand had touched the bare chair. He looked up and Davorin was standing, next to the chair, his nose still in that little book he was reading. Kip reached out and touched him but Davorin stepped backward. Kip leapt forward as quickly as he could but Davorin took the necessary step back, keeping the gap between the two of them.

“Oh, did you think I would give up the challenge for free? You still have to try a little.”

Kip lunged with one hand, Davorin took a step to the right, Kip lunged with his other hand, Davorin took a step to the left. Kip kept at it, pushing his hands to and fro. Davorin, as if knowing his moves ahead of time, would be able to move out of the way in the knick of time. Kip was learning the game, and had had enough. He kept at it until Davorin had found himself against a wall, then with both hands, Kip pressed down on him. Davorin leapt up, clearing Kip, then gingerly pressed his feet against the wall and flipped around so that Kip was at Davorin’s back. When Kip swung himself backward with his arm out, Davorin had once again stepped forward.

He won’t let me touch him but he’ll move in perfect opposition to me, Kip thought to himself, It’s a game of negative space.

“Four minutes, Kit.” Davorin said, before licking his finger and changing the page on his book, “Ah, my favorite part. The cliffhanger.”

And with that, Kip had his plan.