by M E Robinson
“Aye. But tourneys are great for the commonfolk. They get to come together and watch an impressive display of skill from some of the kingdom’s best fighters. They laugh, cheer, and lose themselves in the festivities, forgetting the worries that beset them,” the Dwarf replied.
“Halfthur’s right. Look at the spectators that are here already. The tournament hasn’t even begun, and yet they’re already laughing, joking with each other, and having fun. They don’t even remember that this tournament only exists because we need to deal with the threat of an imminent goblin invasion,” the third figure added.
“These are just the grumblings of an old man - no need to pay them any heed, Wavesun,” Alistair replied.
“How could I not take heed of one of our Kingdom’s heroes?” Wavesun replied gently.
“Bah. How’s the turnout?” Alistair asked, changing the subject.
Wavesun exchanged a knowing smile with Halfthur. “More than a thousand have signed up. It’s mostly otherworlders. But there are a few adventurers as well.”
“Aye, only sixty adventurers signed up for the tourney. Clearly, they know more about the dangers associated with an ‘elite’ platoon,” Halfthur added. “But they should be the best of the lot. I recognize a few names like Gorin Greatarm, and Kifax Catclaw.”
“Those names sound familiar. Recent Bronze-rank adventurers?” Alistair asked.
“Yes. Gorin’s been making a name for himself up North with the Flameband Mercenaries. Kifax was a former Tidescout who quit to become an adventurer. Both are fairly strong and decent favourites to win,” Wavesun replied.
“What of the otherworlders. Any that stand out?”
“The bookies are reluctant to give odds for otherworlders. But according to the Novarena rep, there are quite a few strong otherworlders - at least if we’re going by pure powerlevel. Whether or not they can use their strength effectively is another matter entirely,” Halfthur replied.
“Bookies?” Alistair asked, raising an eyebrow.
Halfthur laughed. “Ah, just my bad habit. It’s no fun to watch a tournament yer not invested in. Especially as an announcer ya know!”
“Aren’t announcers supposed to be impartial? Wouldn’t betting go against that?” Wavesun asked, staring down at Halfthur accusingly.
“Now now, it’s jus. Ye know... There’s more to it than tha. Um, wha I mean ta say is,” Halfthur stuttered.
Wavesun laughed. “Relax Halfthur - your accent bleeds through when you’re nervous. I plan to make a bet or two myself.”
“Really? Korin Wavesun, and here I thought you’d inherited your father’s upright nature,” Alistair said with a sigh, unable to hide the slight smile that tugged at his lips.
Wavesun grinned. “I’m just glad that I came of age in Tair Newirn. All the sordid tales of my youth are hidden back there, and my reputation here in my homeland remains intact.”
Halfthur laughed. “You nobles. So concerned with reputation, the lot of ya.”
Checking the time, Halfthur grinned. “I guess it’s time to start. Alistair, I’ll allow you to do the honours of introducing the tournament.”
Glaring at the dwarf, Alistair walked towards the edge of the dais.
“Attention!” Alistair roared, his voice echoing through the stadium.
Waiting for the crowd to settle down, Alistair looked over the gathered fighters. As the last few murmurs died down, Alistair looked back at Wavesun who gave him a brief nod.
“For those of you who don’t know me, I am Captain Alistair Crowsea, leader of tomorrow’s expedition and the commander of the elite platoon. I am holding this tournament only to discover the strongest fighters. I do not care about how honourably you fight, nor do I care for any other talents you may have. Fight. Show me your prowess. And those who make it to the top thirty-two will win the chance to earn rewards beyond any you’ve seen so far,” Alistair shouted, his voice echoing through the colosseum. “The tournament will begin shortly. I will now hand it over to the tournament MC to announce the rules.”
“Ahem. Thank you, Alistair, fer that inspiring speech,” said Halfthur, his voice magically amplified, clapping his hands for Alistair as the militia captain looked stoically ahead.
Seeing this action, the crowd began to clap as well, a polite smattering of applause filling the arena. Feeling that this was the best reaction Alistair was likely to get, Halfthur continued.
“My name is Halfthur Stoutbrew, and I will be your announcer today. The tournament will begin immediately after I finish explaining the rules, so pay attention!” Seeing that he had the rapt attention of the audience, Halfthur grinned. “The tournament will be a single elimination tournament. You win, you advance to the next round. You lose, you’re out. Simple, right?”
This got a laugh from the audience. Pausing to allow the laughter to pass, Halfthur continued, “There will be four divisions. Each division is assigned to a different set of stages, A, B, C, and D,” Halfthur explained, pointing to four separate places on the arena floor.
Ignoring the confused looks from the players, Halfthur gave the audience in the stands a grin, “As always, the stages will appear once the tournament begins. Participants have been seeded according to their overall level. The stronger players will be paired against the weaker players in the early rounds. Of course, power level is not an exact science. Don’t worry if your power level is a little lower than your opponents. Skill is what you’ll need to win!’
This announcement set off a new round of muttering amongst the gathered players. Motioning for them to settle down, Halfthur continued, “The divisions will be displayed above me once the tournament begins. Prizes will be given out to the top thirty-two participants. For those who are eliminated before then, please feel free to continue to watch the tournament from the stands. And finally, as always, please feel free to go all out. Novarena’s mages have assured me that the magical wards which prevent fatal blows are in perfect condition, so give it your all, and let the tournament begin!” Halfthur shouted, throwing his arms in the air as cheers filled the arena.
Chapter 24
As Halfthur retreated back towards where Alistair and Wavesun were standing, an enormous projection filled the air above the dais. Gazing upwards at the dais, the players watched as lists began to appear in midair, displaying the names of the divisions and participants.
“Looks like I’m in division B,” Eric remarked, peering towards the enormous projection.
“Same,” Rob said.
“I don’t think any of us are in division A. But it looks like everyone else but me and Gio are in division D,” Mark replied.
“Seems like you’ve got the easiest path to the finals then, Mark,” Ryan teased.
Mark rolled his eyes. “Hopefully none of you end up having to teamkill each other early on. Our levels are all fairly high, so if we’re lucky we’ll all be seeded pretty far away from each other.”
As the group discussed the divisions, a rumbling began to fill the arena. Breaking off their conversation, the group watched wide-eyed as a number of circular platforms rose from the ground below, each platform in a different quadrant of the stadium.
Feeling himself rising, Eric watched as the ground below where his friends were standing began to move further away from him, the ground he was standing on slowly rising into the air. After roughly ten seconds, the rumbling stopped and silence returned to the arena grounds. The arena floor was now filled with four circular, stone arenas, each raised roughly five feet off the ground, with steps leading up from opposite ends of each circle.
Looking around, Eric could see that the reactions to this new development were mixed. Some players had taken it in stride, simply observing the new arenas, or standing around looking bored. Others looked terrified, their heads moving from side to side as if looking for a hidden attacker. The audience in the stands seemed unfazed by this event, pointing and laughing at the players who’d displayed the most interesting reactions.
Looking down
on the rest of the group in amusement, Eric jumped down with a grin. “I always knew my place was above you, Jun.”
“In your dreams, dumbass,” Jun retorted.
Before Eric could retort, Mark shushed him, pointing to the dais which had been partially obscured by the new stages. Seeing that the announcer looked ready to make another announcement, Eric and Jun went quiet, both eager for the tournament to start.
Observing the players reactions with amusement, Halfthur smiled. Striding forward once more, he addressed the awaiting colosseum, “Please proceed to the stands and await your matches. The first matches for each division will be displayed above. Good luck!”
Gazing at the projection hovering above the arena, Eric spied his name high up on the list, near the top of B-division. “It looks like my match is coming up pretty soon. See you guys after I win,” Eric announced with a grin.
“You’d better not lose to some scrub,” Ryan laughed.
“I’ll be fine as long as I don’t go up against the tournament winner. And that’s impossible as it’s going to be me,” Eric replied with a grin.
“In your dreams. There’s no way you’re beating me when your teacher won’t even teach you new magic,” Jun taunted back.
“We’ll just have to see in the finals, for now I’ve got a match to win,” Eric replied, leaving the group behind as he made his way over towards the ring his fight was in.
Making his way through the arena, Eric was surprised to see that Rob had followed him over.
“I decided to come with you. My match is right after yours,” Rob explained, walking beside Eric towards the division B section of the arena.
There were four circular platforms, one in each of the four sections of the arena. Participating in the second match for division B, Eric was the next fighter up as soon as the first fight on the stage below concluded.
Climbing into the stands next to their section, Eric and Rob settled down and watched as the fighters from each division assembled upon their respective stages, looking nervously around as they stood atop the platforms. One of the fighters was trembling so much that he dropped his hammer, the weapon clanking as it struck the stone platform below. This elicited laughs from the audience, causing the fighter to turn beet red as he scrambled to pick up his weapon. Fortunately for the other fighters, this one-man farce lightened the atmosphere, helping to alleviate the air of nervousness that had settled upon the four stages.
“Bunch of tournament newbies. I bet most of them have never been in a tournament before in their lives,” Eric remarked, smiling as he watched the nervous fighter grip his hammer tightly, as if he feared it might fly away if he gave it the chance.
“Better for us I suppose,” Rob responded with a laugh, leaning back as he watched the referees jump on stage, ready to begin the fights.
“The first matches are about to begin. Audience, are you ready?” Halfthur screamed, his voice piercing the empty stadium.
Roaring enthusiastically, the audience responded with cheers and waves. Halfthur frowned in an exaggerated manner, his likeness appearing upon the projection above, replacing the pairings. “I said, ARE YOU READY? LET ME HEAR YOU MAKE SOME NOISE!” Halfthur bellowed.
The resulting wave of sound nearly bowled Eric over, clutching his ears as he turned to look at the crowd that had gathered behind them. The residents of Vindammer Town had evidently turned out en masse, filling the stands that had been nearly empty only half an hour before. Right now, they were all on their feet, stomping and cheering as they responded to Halfthur’s provocations.
“Well there’s something I never thought I’d experience at a video game tournament,” Eric remarked dryly.
“What?” Rob asked, shouting to be heard over the roar of the crowd.
“Thousands of cheering fans, all here to watch us fight. Although I’m not sure if NPC viewers count.”
“What?” Rob shouted once more.
“Ah forget it,” Eric waved his hand to dismiss the matter.
Shrugging, Rob looked over towards the stage where Halfthur was looking at the audience in appreciation, a big grin upon his craggy face.
“That’s better! Now, the first four matches will begin. Fighters get ready! Once your referee rings the fight bell, the fight is on. Fight well, and may the best fighter win!” Halfthur shouted, raising his arms in a theatrical manner.
Chapter 25
As the crowd watched, the referees on each stage rang a small gong, signifying the true beginning of the tournament. As the fighters closed in on each other, the projection above the stages transformed once more, this time to display four different views, one for each stage.
The first round was nothing special. It seemed that the roar of the audience had done nothing for the players nerves, causing the ensuing fights to be fairly wooden. Each fighter clumsily threw out low level skills, trading hits back and forth as if they were playing an oldschool role-playing game, taking turns to strike each other.
Jumping back, the fighter who’d dropped his hammer stumbled, tripping over his own feet and rolling awkwardly on the stage as he tried to avoid the thrust of his opponent’s spear. Seizing the opportunity, the spearwielder jumped forward, attempting to skewer his helpless foe to the floor of the arena, his spear turning into a blur of wood and metal as he thrust repeatedly towards his downed foe. As the hammer-user tried desperately to fend off the attacks, a strike broke through his defenses, landing solidly on his shoulder. As the hammer wielder’s health approached zero, a bright light surrounded him, teleporting him off the stage, and leaving the spearwielder standing awkwardly mid-thrust.
“And it looks like we have our first winner! Korusc Shadefire advances to the next round!” Halfthur announced, pointing to the division B stage.
“Looks like I’m up. See you in a bit,” Eric told Rob, standing up and making his way towards the stage.
Walking up the steps to the stage, Eric was struck with a bout of anticipation, half nervousness, and half excitement. This is it, he thought to himself. The first step on their path to the top of Fate, and the moment of truth. If they couldn’t at least place near the top of this tournament, a minor event that would probably be forgotten by most within a few weeks, then there was no hope of them making it anywhere on the world stage. Unconsciously, Eric’s hands had balled into fists, his fingernails digging into the seat of his palm. Waking up from his reverie, Eric shook his head. This was the first step, but that didn’t mean he was okay with it being the last. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Eric exhaled softly. No matter what the future contained, wasn’t it all fine if he won? Suppressing his nerves, Eric walked forward, standing tall on the stage.
The stage was roughly fifty metres in diameter. While the stage had looked somewhat small from the stands, standing here now, Eric could see that it provided ample room for both melee and ranged tactics to be employed. Scuffing his feet against the rough sandstone, Eric’s attention was drawn away from the stage by the arrival of his opponent at the opposite end of the ring.
His opponent was a stocky dwarf that looked to be just over forty. With greying hair and an impressive beard, it was evident that he’d modelled his character after a traditional dwarven warrior. On his back was a large, double-bladed axe, worn in a sling over his chainmail hauberk.
According to the pairings list which had replaced the projection for the group B arena, his opponent’s name was Glin Axesmasher, a very impressive sounding fantasy sounding name, Eric thought to himself, wondering not for the first time if Erick Kystfyr was slightly too unimpressive sounding.
“Fighters, are you ready?” the referee asked, a youngish looking man who looked like he might have had a giant somewhere in his family tree.
Giving an affirmative nod to the referee, Eric drew his falchion, the blade producing a pleasing ringing sound as it left the sheath. Staring at the shining blade, Eric considered how to approach the fight. If he didn’t want to give away too much of his fighting style to any potential
competitors, then he would need to win without relying on his most powerful skills. Of course, if he messed up, then he would be eliminated from the tournament in the most humiliating fashion, and Jun would most likely never let him live down.
Considering his options briefly, Eric nodded firmly to himself, hiding some of his abilities was the best way to win. If he could get through the early rounds without revealing the true extent of his abilities, he could surprise opponents who were unprepared for his more powerful magic abilities.
“Begin!” the referee’s voice cut through Eric’s thoughts.
Charging forward, his opponent held his axe high, ready to bring it down upon Eric’s skull. With a shout, Axesmasher leapt high, holding his axe aloft. Gleaming in the sunlight, the axehead descended like a thunderbolt from above, smashing through the space Eric had occupied only a moment before and slamming into the stagefloor. Blinking in surprise, Axesmasher looked around for his opponent, only to wince in pain as a flash of light announced the arrival of Eric’s falchion, shaving off a portion of Axesmasher’s healthbar.
Wielding the falchion, Eric dealt Axesmasher several quick slashes, jumping back to avoid the dwarf’s furious counterswing. Watching the axe soar inches in front of him, Eric stepped in, delivering a furious hack to Axesmasher’s shoulder.
Attempting to step back to gain room to swing his axe, Axesmasher was startled to discover that Eric wouldn’t give him the chance. Keeping close to his foe, Eric took advantage of his shorter weapon to hammer Axesmasher with blows, using his blade and fists to keep the fighter off-balance as he steadily reduced his healthbar.
With a furious cry, Axesmasher activated a skill, jumping back and swinging his axe in an enormous horizontal sweep, the axe glowing with a dull white light, as he attempted to repel his agile foe.
With a grin, Eric ducked low, using his free hand as a support as he lashed out, his legs catching the stocky dwarf’s and sending him crashing to the ground. Before he could recover, Eric jumped high, bringing his falchion down in a stabbing motion and nailing his opponent to the floor. Raising his fist high, Eric rained blow after blow on his helpless foe, ignoring the fighter’s feeble attempts to ward off the hail of fists that assaulted him. As Eric’s fist descended once more, aiming for the dwarf’s eye, a bright light surrounded the dwarf. A moment later, he disappeared, Eric’s fist soaring through the space he had occupied only a moment before.
