War of the Posers Page 4

  “We have one more duel tonight, it seems,” he said, coming to his feet. “And perhaps this one will be a death bout.”

  “Hey, wait—“ I started. But hands grabbed me from behind, and started pulling me away from the pit.

  Chapter Seven

  I started to fight back, but someone whispered in my ear.

  “Give him a moment, lad,” the voice said. “You will definitely fight tonight, but maybe he’ll cool off enough to make it a normal duel.”

  I looked over my shoulder to see a kindly woman shoving me toward what I assumed were The Gathering’s equivalent to locker rooms.

  A slightly hidden door opened in the wall, and my guide pushed me on through into a small hallway with four doors. She pushed open the first door on the left, and pulled me into the small room that turned out to be, no surprise, the equivalent of a locker room. There weren’t any lockers, per se, but there were two small trunks, a long bench, a rickety old chair, and a table with a pitcher of water and a bowl on it.

  “You ever done this before?” the woman asked, shutting the door behind us.

  “No,” I said. I tried not to look terrified, given that I had no idea what was going on, not just in this room, but in the pit outside as well.

  She sighed, and kicked open one of the trunks.

  It was empty.

  “Clothes and belongings in there,” she said. “I’ll lock it and hold the key for you.”

  “Wait, I—“ I started, but she clicked her tongue at me.

  “Tut, get your kit off, and in there. No magic items go in the pit with you.”

  “You mean the arena?”

  She chuckled, pouring some water in the bowl. Then she whipped a towel out of nowhere and dunked it into the water.

  “Are you gonna get naked, or am I gonna to have to strip you down?” she asked, an eyebrow arched up.

  I shook my head. Clearly I was in the shit now. I stood up and pulled my armor off, then my shirt, pants, everything, until I was just standing there bare-assed naked.

  She rubbed me down with the towel and water, but not in a nice and gentle way. It plain hurt. The towel was really just a slight step above sandpaper. After my surprise forced exfoliation, she opened the other trunk. I caught the sheen of something silken. She pulled out a robe, and gave it a snap to unfold it.

  “You got a color preference?” she asked.

  “I have to wear that?” I asked.

  She nodded. “Rules.”

  “Seems a bit odd there’d be such rigid rules in an underground fight club.”

  “Dueling club, thank you,” she said, tossing me a blue robe.

  “Blue works,” I said, and started to pull it over my head. It was very much like a traditional wizard’s robe, which was more like a giant shirt. Or a dress, I guess. I was wearing a blue silk wizard’s dress. There were large sleeves that went a little past my hands, and the hem fell all the way down to just over my feet. I looked behind me, and confirmed it dragged on the ground.

  “Good guess on the size,” I said.

  “Funny how that worked, me being a professional and all,” she replied. “Now pay attention: we follow strict code to keep you alive, and us in business. We keep fights fair, or at least as fair as they can be in a duel of magicians. No magical items allowed in the arena. No outside weapons, no outside clothes, no outside armor. You are issued one of our robes, which must be of a different color than your opponent. Both ladders into the arena will be lowered at the same time, and you will climb into the arena as your opponent does. When you reach the bottom, you will turn around to face your opponent, and you will remain in that standing position until the duel is called.”

  “Sorry to interrupt, but does that mean someone says when the duel starts?”

  “Aye. Someone will say the duel begins. In a normal duel, which hopefully this will turn out to be, it will be the referee. If it is still to the death when we go out, then, it’s probably going to be Ignatius after delivering an oration of some sort.”

  “So a ref is going to be in the pi—arena with us?”

  “Aye,” she said. “Again, if this is a death match, that’s really the end of the rules. Last left standing gets out of the pit. Gets helped back here, and usually gets healed. Loser goes through the grate in the floor to what’s below.”

  “What’s below?”

  “Don’t know. But whatever it is makes a lot of crunching sounds when a body goes through the grate.”

  “How often does that happen?”

  “In a duel? Rarely. For other disposal purposes? Well, we are an underground illicit club —I’m sure you can figure out the math yourself.”

  “Yeah, I got that. I’m, I don’t really know how to say this, but I’m kind of in the same line of work.”

  “Illicit?”

  “Yes.”

  “I thought as much, since you are here. If it’s a regular duel, the referee will be in the arena with you. He will be protected, but it would be wise not to target him directly. There will be a barrier between you and the audience. You may target them, but know it will only be for show. Make all attempts to not kill your opponent, but we realize deaths do happen. The referee will cast Hold Person on you if he needs to stop the duel. It might be for a separation, it might be for an end to the duel. If he casts the spell, submit to it. If you fight the hold person, you are automatically the loser of the duel. Rounds last two minutes. There are five rounds, each with a one-minute rest period. A mana potion will be provided for you at each rest period. If both contestants stand at the end of five rounds, you will be judged on your performance and a winner declared. Knowing what Ignatius thinks of you, you will need to down your opponent to win. Questions?”

  My mind raced. I had a thousand questions, and they all jumbled together as I tried to speak.

  “Sorry,” I said, “just, huh, this is new to me.”

  She nodded, and sat down on the chair.

  “We have but a moment,” she said, “best to ask now.”

  “Can I move?”

  “You better.”

  “Can I, I mean, do I have to use magic?”

  “Are you planning to punch your opponent?”

  “Is that allowed?”

  “I’ve seen it happen before.”

  “Okay, so physical violence is allowed.”

  “Wouldn’t say it’s encouraged, but it is allowed.”

  “Any magic is okay?”

  “Anything.”

  “Summoning?”

  “If you want.”

  “Necromancy?”

  “Oh, you are a dark elf, aren’t you?”

  “Well, I’ve dabbled in the, uh, darker arts, I guess.”

  “There are no limits to what spells you can use. Go wild out there. Who knows? You might even be entertaining enough that they don’t kill you.”

  “Great,” I said with a sigh. “Do you have a name, or do I just call you Corner Lady?”

  “I am not in your corner, nor am I your second. I am the Lady of the Back of House. I keep the magicians in line, prep them for duels, and make sure your blood doesn’t sully any of the guest’s fine frocks.”

  “Surely the Lady of the Back of House has a name,” I said. “And my name isn’t Tarzan.”

  “I guessed as much. You are a strange elf, young man. And I hate that I might be the last slightly friendly face you’ll see. But I suppose I do owe you a name, at the very least. Flossie Wooding.”

  “Flossie Wooding, my name is Clyde Hatchett.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise. Don’t suppose you’re going to tell me there’s a secret way out?”

  “You’re not sweet enough for me to risk my life and livelihood over. So, no, I won’t tell you about the secret way out that doesn’t actually exist. I will tell you, however, that you’re definitely in over your head and I’m insanely curious why you’re even here.”

  “I’m looking for The Fayden.”

  “Oh, you. You po
or fool.”

  “What, is that just like, a myth?”

  “Not in the slightest. But I doubt you’ll get much of an answer from Ignatius, even if the god of magic comes down and intercedes on your behalf and you somehow pull out a win.”

  “I might win.”

  “What’s your level again?”

  “Nine.”

  “Your real level?”

  “It is.”

  “So you won’t survive. The lowest level duelist here tonight is a fourteen, and you won’t be facing her.”

  “What’s the highest?”

  “Thirty.”

  “Okay, so it’s starting to feel likeI might have a problem on my hand.”

  “I will say that you are the calmest person I’ve ever seen about to face certain death.”

  “Have you seen enough to really judge that?”

  “Used to work at the Arena.”

  “Same job there?”

  “Minor differences. More blood, fewer burns, more pulling teeth and quills out of bodies. But yes. Back of house, in charge of fighter prep and fighter after-care.”

  “Did you watch the fights?”

  “On occasion.”

  “Are they rigged?”

  She gave me a wry smile. “On occasion.”

  “I have a friend, a former Arena fighter. He thinks his wife was in a rigged fight, and then killed on purpose.”

  “That happens more than anyone will admit,” she said. “It was one reason I left. Took the job here. For everything else about this place and these people, the duels are held sacred. There is no cheating. There is honor amongst those who duel. And, so far at least, the animosity rarely travels beyond the arena.”

  “I’ll find kind faces here then?”

  “No, you will either be hated or forgotten. You’re set up to either kill someone they like, or become food for the thing below.”

  “At least I’ve got that to look forward to.”

  “I have enjoyed our chat, young elf,” she said, getting to her feet with just a slight grunt. “I’ll give you a moment or two to prepare.”

  “One last thing,” I said. “Can I bet on myself?”

  “Sure.”

  “How are my odds?”

  “Terrible.”

  “Which means?”

  “I’d have to see to be sure, but I’d guess it’s somewhere near 20-1. But even then, no one is going to bet on you.”

  “I will.”

  “How much?”

  “Take my whole coin pouch. Put it on me.”

  “Optimistic.”

  “Realist. If I die, I won’t have any use for it.”

  She chuckled, stepped over to my belongings, and pulled a purse out.

  “Good amount of coin here,” she said. “All of it? Might think about leaving some for—“

  “No one to leave it to.”

  “Your coin,” Flossie said with a shrug. Then closed up both chests, and locked them. She left the room, closing and locking the door behind her.

  Time to plan.

  Chapter Eight

  Naturally, as soon as the door shut, and I needed to think, my mind went blank. For a moment, I couldn’t even remember what spells I had available. Thankfully, I did remember I had access to my character sheet. I pulled it up and looked it over.

  Clyde Hatchett - Lvl 9 Rogue

  Traits

  Race: Elf of the Sun and Moon

  Height: 6’2”

  Weight: 195 lbs

  Eye Color: Green

  Hair Color: Blonde

  Renown: Unknown

  Statistics

  HP: 220

  STAM: 539

  MP: 436

  Armor: None

  Active Effects: None

  Attributes

  Strength: 21

  Agility: 27

  Dexterity: 39

  Constitution: 30

  Wisdom: 12

  Intelligence: 39

  Charisma: 20

  Luck: 29

  Skills

  Lockpicking (LVL 15)

  Silent Movement (LVL 25)

  Eavesdropping (LVL 18)

  Pickpocketing (LVL 24)

  Stealth (LVL 95)

  Parkour (LVL 15)

  Meditation (LVL 1)

  Archery (LVL 8)

  Dodge (LVL 21)

  Hauling (LVL 1)

  Butcher (Invertebrates) (LVL 18)

  Butcher (Exotic) (LVL 18)

  Harvesting (Animal) (LVL 18)

  Brain Stomping (LVL 1)

  Animal Handling (LVL 3)

  Fashion Master (LVL 1)

  Lying to Yourself (LVL 1)

  Monster Handling (LVL 1)

  Swords (LVL 36)

  Shields (LVL 35)

  Heavy Armor (LVL 20)

  Formation Fighting (LVL 13)

  Traps (LVL 39)

  Silent Landing (LVL 3)

  Walking (LVL 3)

  Baking (LVL 38)

  Not Quite Golf (LVL 1)

  Skull Crushing (LVL 1)

  Mace (LVL 8)

  Humanoid Anatomy (LVL 95)

  Necromancy (LVL 55)

  Religion (LVL 10)

  Economics (LVL 5)

  Backstab (LVL 24)

  Climbing (LVL 12)

  Abilities

  One of These Things is Enough Like the Other

  Undead Control

  Undead Mastery

  Disease Immunity (Undead)

  Feats

  None

  Boons

  None

  Indicium

  Skull and Thrones Guild Leader

  Imperial Mark of Honor

  Shadow Ministry Badge

  Titles

  None

  Relationships

  None

  Languages

  Imperial Common

  Plains Tauren

  Mahrduhmese

  Sea Elven

  Ancient Elven

  Archaic Dwarven

  Modern Dwarven

  Infernal

  Celestial

  Common Orc

  Mountain Orc

  Narbendian

  Gnomish

  Primordial Terran

  Pirate Pidgin

  Carnish

  Common Kobold

  Ancient Kobold

  Ancient Draconic

  Spells

  Lifeform Identification (Lvl 1)

  Basic Object Identification (Lvl 1)

  Minor Illusion (Lvl 1)

  Summon Familiar (Lvl 1)

  Shadow Step (Lvl 1)

  Minor Heal Self (Lvl 3)

  Stamina Regeneration (Lvl 5)

  Zeddington’s Infinite Key (Lvl 1)

  Silent Image (Lvl 1)

  Detect Secret Doors (Lvl 1)

  Satisfaction (Lvl 1)

  Drain

  Raise Dead (Lvl 28)

  Animate Skeleton (Lvl 38)

  Animate Flesh (Lvl 41)

  Stitch Flesh and Bone (Lvl 25)

  ReAnimate (Lvl 44)

  Disrupt Life (Lvl 29)

  Vicious Wrench (Lvl 45)

  Heal Undead (Lvl 38)

  Hold Monster (Lvl 44)

  Hold Humanoid (Lvl 23)

  Banish Undead (Lvl 10)

  True Vision of Shadows (Lvl 1)

  Vaux’s Brilliance (Lvl 1)

  Mage Hand (Lvl 1)

  Turn Undead (Lvl 1)

  Animate Minor Object (Lvl 1)

  Force Burst (Lvl 1)

  Finger of the Stone God (Lvl 1)

  Fireball (Lvl 1)

  Summon Imp (Lvl 1)

  Summon Celestial Ally (Lvl 1)

  Summon Infernal Ally (Lvl 1)

  Flamedart (Lvl 1)

  Fill Minor Hole (Lvl 1)

  So I had some options. Just not a lot of great ones. I could summon an outsider guardian and potentially disrupt the entire world. That kind of felt like the nuclear option. And being that death wasn’t exactly the end of the line for me, maybe it wasn’t a big enough de
al to, you know, destroy the entire world over. I was probably going to have to dip into the necromantic. And given what Flossie had told me, the inkling of a potentially disgusting plan began to form.

  Why did that describe so many of my plans?

  Sigh.

  Chapter Nine

  A polite knock on my door let me know it was time. Flossie was waiting, ready to escort me to the ring.

  My opponent was already standing at the wall, eyeing me.

  It was a young woman dressed in a red robe with golden birds on it, mostly fitted to her figure. She had red hair, a pert little nose, and fierce eyes that stared me down.

  “Ah,” boomed out Ignatius, standing in front of his throne and gesturing to me. “The challenger comes to the arena!”

  There were some boos in the crowd.

  “This means there will be an additional bout tonight,” Ignatius continued, in his theatrical and grandiose style, “where we will witness the brutal magical massacre of this interloper.”

  “So still a death match?” I whispered over Flossie’s shoulder.

  “Oh yes,” Flossie replied. “Sorry.”

  “Me too,” I said.

  “The champion in the red robes,” Ignatius said, “the sorcerous queen from Meredeen, the princess of fire and destroyer of men, the Living Flame herself, Livinia Flame!”

  There was a raucous applause, and my opponent turned around, waving at those around her.

  “And the deceitful challenger, Tarzan! Speaker to Apes!”

  Some people looked at me and smiled. Most just jeered.

  Two men in black robes rolled chain ladders down into the pit. I grabbed onto the cold metal and climbed down.

  My feet hit the stone, and I remembered what Flossie told me. I stood still. Didn’t move. And I watched Livinia climb down her own chain ladder. Because I’m still, you know, a dude, I definitely gave her legs some extra attention. I was barefoot, but at the end of her very nice legs were boots. Which irritated me. I also noticed something peeking out of her boot, and I was willing to bet it was the non-business end of a small knife.

  When Livinia got to the bottom, she turned around. Her face was screwed up in anger, and she squinted at me. Her arms were straight down, but her fingers were already moving.