“A duel has been declared!” Gnos called out grandly, getting up from his position on the ground. “What a wonderful and dramatic thing to happen in our little theatre! Excellent! Duelists, I beg that you separate to best prepare yourselves!"
The two combatants separated into their corners of the stage. The skeletons left the stage, filling the stairs and into theatre seats. Gnos took center stage as the referee and master of ceremonies. Nial Liv growled; it was clear that he would have preferred to simply shoot Nanoc and get it over with, but there was little he could do, for duels were very popular with the gods and they expected certain rituals to be observed.
Nial Liv stalked over to his side of the stage, gesturing Rotcel ‘Loc and the elven striker to his side.
“You, elf, get behind the gnome and be ready with your blade if I demand it. Scout, circle around and take the princes,” he told her. “We will not be returning to the Guild empty-handed.”
The elven striker looked less than pleased at being asked to interfere with a duel, but the lizardling simply refused.
The scout shook her head. “I can’t help, it would distract Nanoc and give you an unfair advantage. A duel is between two people—”
“I will fight the gnome; you will get the princess. Do as I say, or else the Guild will know why,” he whispered. “If I die, they will call in all of your debts… and your skull as a bonus.”
On the far side of the stage, Dren stood at Nanoc’s side and spoke softly to the gnome.
“Do you know, I don’t think you will win, gnome,” Dren whispered. “He’s got to be at least twenty levels above you, and he’s got a bow, you see. He’ll just shoot you before you get to him.”
Dren was not terribly familiar with sporting traditions, and so his pre-match speech was probably the worst ever given. The good news was that Nanoc wasn’t listening. He was staring at his opponent, wondering how best to take him down.
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NANOC THE GNOME
Health: 6/14
BARBARIAN| Level 3
Skills: Hand-to-hand combat, drinking, shouting, singing badly, identify enemy, makeshift weaponry, looking great when sweaty, good with knives
Abilities: Berserk! (2 uses per day), incredible strength (5 uses per day), retribution (1 uses per day)
CLERK| Level 9
Skills: Paperwork, filing, taking notes, counting, boring stuff
Abilities: Speed reading (50 per day), finding folders (10 per day), avoiding the blame (1 per day)
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It didn’t look good. He was convincingly out levelled. He should have been scared but he was feeling oddly elated. He was probably the first gnome to fight in a duel! And the first gnome to die in one, too, he conceded, but that would mean two firsts in one day, which was pretty good. He’d die feeling proud. Nanoc grinned as he took his position. On the far side of the stage, Nial Liv was scowling.
“Stop smiling, gnome! You are going to die! You’ve brought a stick to a bow fight,” he called out.
Nanoc smiled. “This is no stick! This is my drama club. Today’s lesson is—”
“Fight!” Gnos shouted.
Nial Liv shot an arrow; Nanoc lashed out with his club. The arrow hit his club and ricocheted off between the ribs of a passing skeleton, bounced off the pen in Dren’s hand, reflected off a rafter and hit Nial Liv in the ass.
“—physical comedy,” Nanoc finished. “Because kicking your ass is going to be hilarious!”
He leaped forward, rolling into a crouch. He was moving again as three arrows slammed into the ground where he had been. Nial Liv swore, dropping his bow and drawing his sword as Nanoc ran at him. The hero slashed at the gnome, who deflected the attack with his drama club. They traded blows back and forth, but although Nial Liv was at a much higher level, he wasn’t winning. He’d spent his years as a hero yelling and shooting from the back of the party, relying on others to do any stabbing or blocking required. He had neglected his combat skills, while Nanoc’s skills were all on display. After all, the gnome was a barbarian, and his class was optimized for a brawl.
Nanoc was also having a lot more fun. He wasn’t thinking about dying, or losing, or even winning, only of how cool it was to be in a real-life duel. He dodged and dived, shoulder barged, swore, taunted, struck, ducked, and shot bananas at his enemy's feet. Nial Liv cursed the gnome, growing increasingly frustrated as he could not hit the little barbarian. The archer stabbed, the gnome twisted out of the way; the gnome swung his club, and the archer parried just in time. It was a stalemate.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
But Nial Liv had not gotten as far as he had in the guild by losing, not even when the rules demanded it. He couldn’t win a fair fight; he didn’t need to. He looked to where Rotcel Loc was lurking in the shadows right behind the princess, in the perfect position to to grab her.
“Lizardling! Get her!” Nial Liv ordered.
The lizardling hesitated, then grabbed the princess and quickly tied her up.
“I’m sorry,” Rotcel ‘Loc called out. “It’s not personal, I just have to do what I’m told.”
“No, you don’t!” Nanoc told her.
“I don’t?” the lizardling replied, surprised.
Years of working for the guild had taught her to follow both Order and guild orders or face the punishment. That was the way things were, and she had not, until just then, considered that they could be better. She stood beside the princess, knife in hand, confused.
“You have a point, gnome, I—"
Nanoc threw his drama club overhand. It caught the lizardling in the side and knocked her over. Nial Liv used the distraction to attack, but Nanoc ducked under Nial Liv’s sword, rolled to one side, and sprinted to the fallen lizardling. She lay quite still as if struck down by the gods themselves.
“Ah!” Nanoc said apologetically, “No, I didn’t mean to—”
One of Rotcel ‘Locs eyes flicked open in a wink: she was a far better actor than Gnos. Nanoc nodded slightly – the scout was rebelling in the only way she could: she was quiet quitting her job by pretending to be dead. He wholeheartedly approved.
“Some god must have chosen you as their plaything, gnome,” Nial Liv spat. “But they will get bored of keeping you alive! Elf! Stab the gnome!”
“Do you know, I don’t think I—” Dren said, but the hero wasn’t talking to him.
Rotcel ‘Loc had been an insufficient distraction. It was time for a more direct approach. The wounded elven striker had worked his way behind Nanoc. The elf glanced at Nial Liv, who nodded fiercely, so the striker drew a knife and stabbed at Nanoc.
It should have caught the gnome right in the back of his neck, but time slowed as the blade reached Nanoc, stopping just before the blade touched flesh. Smoke erupted across the theatre, and a masked figure descended from the scaffolding above the stage.
“What cheap trick—” Nial Liv said, but then the figure raised a hand and the hero fell silent.
Waves of magical energy erupted across the room, freezing everyone in place, making their hearts beat until their chests might burst. This was no simple intruder; this was a goddess. The observers were filled with awe, terror, and a strange inspiration to paint something.
“That’s Muse,” Gnos gasped. “My goddess, what an honor! Quick, somebody hands me a trombone! No, a piano! A pen! I need to write this down!”
It was true: Muse, the thirteenth born of the second generation of the gods, had been passing by to check on Gnos when she saw the duel. She turned, her whole body floating in the air, and faced the elven hero who had broken the rules of the duel. Muse shook her head sadly, then showed her displeasure in the traditional way of her family: lightning leaped from her fingers and hit the elf. He exploded, leaving only a pair of smoking boots behind. Then she waved a hand at Nial Liv, who gasped as he lost almost all of his health.
Then Muse got bored, as she always did, and left. Gnos desperately scribbled musical notes on the wall, but his writing slowed as the goddess left, leaving the work unfinished.
“Come on! I was so close!” Gnos complained and slammed his head into the wall.
He was not the only one who was angry.
“You’re a cheat!” Nanoc shouted at Nial Liv. “We had something cool going on here, and you had to spoil it! That makes me really… really angry!”
Not just angry, but berserk! Nanoc rushed forward with a burst of speed. Nial Liv muttered a curse and began to glow bright green. He always had a few abilities left for emergencies, and losing a duel to a gnome was about as much of an emergency as could exist. The ability, green glider, made his movements much faster. He side stepped Nanoc, moving with an impossible grace and speed, then stabbed at the gnome. He’d a bunch of his abilities at once to finally kill the gnome, and his block landed right on Nanoc’s unprotected heart. It should have killed the gnome instantly, but the banana appeared under the blow, blocking it. Nial Liv stared at the magical fruit in stunned disbelief.
“I didn’t need your help,” Nanoc shouted at it, but the fruit did not apologize.
Nanoc’s drama club whipped through the air and caught Nial Liv in the knee with a loud crack that echoed through the theatre. The skeletons in the audience let out a cheer as the archer fell to the ground. Nial Liv reached for a knife on his belt, but Nanoc slammed his club down into the archer's arm with a thump. Nial Liv shouted in pain, the skeletons excitedly hooted, and Nanoc grinned.
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Duel complete!
You are the winner!
Reward: Bragging rights!
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Nial Liv was beaten. Nanoc sagged a little as his rage left him.
“Surprise!” Nanoc said. “You’ve been gnomed!”
Nanoc’s victory was met with shouts of approval and the click-clack of skeletons clapping their hands, but his attempt at a catchphrase was not received with great enthusiasm.
“Did he just use ‘gnomed’ as a verb?” Dren asked the nearest skeleton, who nodded uncertainly.
“I didn’t like it,” the princess said, helping Rotcel ‘Loc up. “It’s poor grammar.”
“And wouldn’t that mean… like audited or something?” Dren asked. “That’s the sort of thing gnomes do, right?”
Some of the more traditional skeletons were concerned that the duel had not ended in death.
“Finish him!” a skeleton shouted out.
“Thumbs down!” another agreed.
But Nanoc didn’t. As much as he disliked Nial Liv, it felt wrong to kill him. Instead, the gnome stood, planting one of his feet on the archer’s chest, and stuck a victorious pose.
“I hate you, gnome!” Nial Liv hissed up at him. “The Guild will hunt you down for this! You will never rest!”
He pulled a teleport scroll from his pocket, and he was gone with a flash of light. All that remained was a cloud of greasy green smoke, a broken bow, and a small coin pouch. Nanoc prodded the pouch with his toe, just in case. It felt full.
Nanoc nodded, satisfied.
“I can’t believe I survived that,” he said.
“Rejoice, for a god rose from the shadows to strike down your enemy,” Gnos told him grandly.
“Really? Neat. So… how about you finish your song, Gnos, and I can send you to an early grave.”