As the sensation of thought grew stronger, Gavin came out into a wider clearing within the maze. In the middle of this area, which was the perfect size for a fight against a larger creature he noted, was a wide bush covered in fragrant blossoms of a type with which he was unfamiliar. The sensation of mental activity was coming from the vicinity of the thick bush which easily hide a man sized creature. It was also possible that the bush itself was somehow foiling his mind-scan, part of the Chosen's plans. He began to weave a spell that would allow him to better identify the mental pattern. Before he could finish, however, something moved. Gavin's spear snapped up. A blurred form sprang from the leafy undergrowth scattering brilliant orange petals in its wake.
Swiftly Gavin changed his spell-weave to a mental blast, and raised his shield to face the creature before he realized that it was simply a large jack-rabbit. It bounded out of the bush and away from him, startled by his approach. He watched it go, relaxing a little. Apparently not everything within the maze was an enemy. An interesting complication. The Chosen was intent on recreating some of conditions of a woodland hunt, it appeared. As if to emphasize the point he heard the croaking of a frog nearby.
He listened for a moment before deciding to follow the path the rabbit had taken. Perhaps it would attract whatever was hunting him.
The crowd above watched Gavin with interest. They could see the movements of all the creatures within the forested labyrinth below them clearly. Unlike the Gladiator, whose concentration made time seem to move more slowly, their anticipation made the passing minutes seem shorter.
Gavin turned down two more passages, going right whenever he was faced with a choice, before he came to another wide clearing. He detected a faint musky odour. Readiness stole over him. As he took two steps into the clearing, his instincts screamed warning. He whirled around just as the spike hound that had been trailing behind him attacked. The Gladiator's lunge caught the beast in the air. Gavin's aim was precise; the creature's own momentum drove the spear deep. Gavin let go of the haft and sidestepped the body as it crashed into the bocage, where it twitched in its death throes. He barely had time to draw his short sword before the rest of the pack was upon him.
The next few moments were a confusion of snapping jaws, gnashing fangs, and desperate footwork. Strong, spiny bodies darted at him from multiple angles. A heavy form barrelled into him. He twisted to minimize the impact, and then sent the beast sprawling with a kick. A powerful clawed paw swiped at his shield. Gavin turned and raked the offending limb with the device's razor edge. The Gladiator was able to keep on his feet, fending off the two remaining hounds by backing down a tunnel.
Memories of his first fight against spike hounds surfaced. He was stronger now, faster, more skilled, and confident in his abilities. Where two of these beasts had once nearly finished him, three were hardly a challenge. Having survived their cunning ambush he felt certain that he could dispatch these two with relative ease. He smiled, but kept his guard up nonetheless; he could not be sure that these were the only hounds.
They circled. Both suffered from minor wounds, but showed no fear of him. Normal animals would have been wary. Perhaps Chosen Mordhawk was right; the untainted were anathema to the tainted. They charged. Fanged maws slavered and snapped, but they could not get past his shield. He thrust his blade into a snout, drawing blood. Although this forced one of the hounds back for a moment, the bloodshed only seemed to encourage the vicious reptilian creatures. Gavin followed up by attacking the other with a powerful mental blast, leaving it shaking its head.
The hounds hesitated. Gavin caught a flash of movement. He dove to one side, acting on instinct. He hit the ground, dead branches gouging his arm. An arrow flew past him. He tumbled away from the hounds and this new threat. Using the onrushing hounds and his shield for cover, he assessed the situation. He saw a tall being, roughly the shape of a man, composed of vines, leaves, and living wood. It notched another arrow, taking aim at him as the hounds moved in. It was now apparent that the hounds were not the only threat in this scenario.
The shaft flew. Gavin was forced to raise his shield to deflect the missile. One of the Spike hounds darted in, trying to take advantage of this motion. It lunged in below his guard, biting at his vitals. The Gladiator pivoted. The arrow rang off his shield. The jaws of the hound met the thick leather and studded metal of his protective kilt. The beast's teeth still penetrated the armour in places. With a snarl, Gavin brought his shield down. The razor edge bit into the hound's thick neck, severing the spine. It fell, limp and dying, before it could apply any more pressure to the bite. The final spike hound leapt, pouncing at him in the manner of a great hunting cat.
Still tangled with the dying beast, Gavin could not dodge out of the way. He raised his sword and shield instead. He let himself be carried by the motion of his opponent's attack, rather than resist. The beast knocked him off his feet. He was prepared for this. While its claws raked his shield, he positioned his sword. He felt an arrow slam into his side. The pain spurred him. When the spike hound's fang filled maw darted at his face, he slipped his sword under it and cut the beast's throat. The spike hound flinched back, spraying blood all over the Gladiator. Gavin kicked it aside, hoping to minimize his exposure to arrows as he stood.
Another arrow sank into Gavin's calf. The Gladiator hissed, more in anger than in pain. He had not expected the hunter to aim low. His opponent was already taking aim with another arrow. The Gladiator, now hobbled, could not charge forward. Nor did he have time to pull the arrow out. Thinking quickly, he wove a mental blast. His spell staggered the vine-man as he hopped forward. The arrow flew wide. The hunter took aim again. Gavin threw his shield, discus-like, forcing his opponent to dodge, and fire wide again as he limped forward and pounced. He bore the vine-man to the ground, hacking at it with his sword while attacking it with spells. It was stronger than a man, but no match for Gavin's magic enhanced strength. Sappy fluid, like green blood, leaked from it, splattering onto the Gladiator. It smelled like wet sawdust, moss, and mushrooms. The vine-man's struggles stopped after the tenth plunge of Gavin's sword.
The trumpet sounded. Victory was his. Limping still, he raised his sword, covered in green gore, above his head. Now that the match was done, the crowd above him was visible once again. Gavin smiled at his friends. Omodo, Ravius, and Cleothera were cheering him. He then managed a stiff, ungraceful bow to Chosen Mordhawk, who favoured him with a nod.
After finishing his salute and listening to the listings, he knelt and pulled the arrow out of his foot. The blaze of pain quickly faded. He did not bother with the arrow in his side, as he then turned and hobbled out of the maze.
o-----
Gavin was unsure what to make of his brief audience with Chosen Mordhawk after the match. The Chosen asked him only a few trivial seeming questions, and seemed especially interested in why he did not kill the rabbit.
He assumed the Chosen was pleased, however. He offered to teach Gavin a few rare Cogimantic spells as compensation for his assistance. Mazurin's Mind Grasp, a telekinetic spell, caught Gavin's interest. He quickly agreed to the Chosen's tutelage. It was a rare opportunity and a great honour. It would be a small burden on Gavin's time, as the Chosen could only afford to train him a few times a year.
o-----
After meeting with the Chosen, Gavin joined his friends. He was eager to talk to Omodo. It had been far too long in his mind, since he had seen his old friend. “Hammerhorn” was increasingly popular in the Free Leagues and some of the Faction arenas.
They greeted each other as old friends, awkwardly at first, but quickly falling in to comfortable roles. The conversation remained casual filled with tales of matches, gossip, training, and “romance” until late into the evening.
Omodo, his immense frame stretched out on a reinforced couch, with Cleothera nestled in the crook of his arm and Gavin and Ravius facing him across a heavy table laden with empty plates and heavy mugs, seemed more self-assured than Gavin had ever seen him. Th
e giant Armodon radiated the same aura of self-assurance that Sadira did. Gavin was pleased that his friend had found himself.
“I want you two to join me,” Omodo said abruptly. “Fight with me, as a team. We may not be able to make the Grand Championships but we can promote the Green Faction. They do good things outside the arena, like pushing for representation for Dragons and Trolls in the popular assemblies. Getting the Green's some attention is a worthy cause.”
Ravius looked towards Gavin questioningly. Gavin knew his friend would love nothing more to travel with Omodo, but was too loyal to leave his side.
“I'm honoured,” said Gavin. He could think of no real reason to deny them. In fact, adding his own efforts to 'Hammerhorn's' growing fame would make it much easier for Gavin to get promoted into a league where he could be closer to Sadira. “Just let me run it by Master Sax and finalize my training schedule with Chosen Mordhawk.”
Omodo smiled broadly, letting out a long breath. Only then did Gavin realize how much his presence meant to the big Armodon. It was a great honour.
Chapter Thirty-Seven: Hammerhorn
1145/12/23AR, Sonarion's Crossing
“We ain't rich like them Blues
We ain't strong like them Reds
But, friend, we've got stout hearts
That's us, the Greens, true fans!” Green Faction Cheer
“The wild magic twisted and tainted our world. But bad as The Reckoning was some of the worst foes we face were created purposefully.” Chosen Mazurin
“HAMMERHORN, HAMMERHORN!” the spectators shouted Omodo's Gladiator name as the three fighters strode on to the fighting grounds. Ten thousand people packed the stands of the small semi-circular arena, many of them proudly displaying the colours of the Green Faction. The subject of the crowd's affection led Gavin and Ravius to the centre of the fighting grounds, flourishing his massive war-maul before saluting the hungry fans.
“I've never seen so many Minotaurs and Armodons in one building,” said Ravius as they waited. More than a thousand of them sat together, a solid wall of green.
“They started following me around last year,” said Omodo, raising his hand in greeting as the raucous audience kept up a deafening cheer. “They come to all the matches that they can. Several of the Free Leagues arenas have had to add special sections so they can accommodate so many of us. They call themselves Hammerhorns. Some of them follow me almost year round.”
Gavin smiled; he could still remember back to a time when his Armodon friend was timid in front of large crowds. Now he had a legion of fans.
As a busy town built at a nexus of trade routes and an important bridge, Sonarion's Crossing was frequented by travellers of all sorts. The streets were broad and worn, lined with shops, public houses, inns, stables, and other buildings filled with services dedicated to road and river. The traffic was constant, even after the harsh winter rendered travel into a more brutal ordeal. The townspeople were extremely welcoming, a charming combination of local hospitality combined with the cosmopolitan mindset that came with constant exposure to travellers from all over the Domains. The arena was just as accommodating as the rest of the town, and although it was filled to capacity, not even the bulky Armodons looked uncomfortable.
The C shaped fighting grounds backed onto an artificial lagoon with the white sands forming a beach of sorts. The grounds and the cold waters could be modified for different types of matches. Today the water formed a deep, dark pool with only a thin strip of dry sand around the edge. The monster's entrance was fully submerged, and Gavin realized the implications immediately.
“Gladiators,” he said, gazing at the dark waters. “I think we are going to be fighting one of those speciality bouts this town is famous for...”
“I think you're right,” said Omodo. “Pity the water is so cold.”
“That leaves out river serpents,” said Ravius. “Maybe a dire Avanc?”
“I hope not,” responded Gavin. “Mind you, if they use magic to warm the water, it could be just about anything.”
“Why don't you go over and dip your toe in, little brother,” said Ravius. “See what you can fish up...”
Gavin rolled his eyes. The trumpets sounded again. Bubbles immediately started to rise from the dark waters in front of them. The three Gladiator's readied themselves, shifting positions so that Gavin could cover the other two with his shield. Gavin could sense his two companions fortifying themselves with spells while they waited.
The dark water stirred. The Gladiators tensed. A fin, spiny and blue, broke the surface. Another fin quickly appeared beside the first, and then another and another, cutting the water in unison, moving towards the Gladiators. The crowd hushed expectantly.
Gavin caught sight of a set of enormous, glassy eyes and a mouth filled with needle-like fangs. The silvery glint of metal shone through the depths as the first fins neared the edge of the waters. Webbed, clawed hands shot up from the pool. Gavin exchanged a quick glance with his companions. Ravius shook his head and they waited for the creatures to emerge, having decided not to charge in. While fighting at the water’s edge would provide a certain kind of advantage, it would also put them in danger of being drawn into the water.
“Murkeys,” said Ravius, as the first of the creatures propelled itself out of the water, revealing a scaled body, somewhat like that of an ugly fish with long, wiry arms and spindly legs. Each of the creatures was armed with a pair of vicious looking, serrated blades and armoured bracers. They let out enraged warbles and charged the Gladiators. Gavin heard Ravius laugh at the sound, so similar to that of a turkey, and he could not help but grin himself. He felt Omodo shift behind him as he raised his shield.
Ravius cast his net over Gavin's head, a well-practised manoeuvre. The barbed net brought one of the fish-men down. The skirmisher laughed at his fallen foe as it thrashed around. In its frenzy to escape the net the hapless Murkey rolled into in the way of its brethren.
”Catch O' the day, brothers!” yelled the smiling Skirmisher.
Gavin thrust his spear into the eye of a charging Murkey, using its own momentum against it. The creature fell to the ground flailing and warbling. He stepped over it, blocking an attack with his shield. He kicked the attacker forcing it back. A lunge brought his spear home, killing it.
The crowd erupted into cheers as Omodo moved between Ravius and Gavin. The Armodon broke into a charge after two paces. He crashed into the ranks of the fish-men, impaling one on his horn. He sent it flying to the side with a flick of his head. Two fish-men leapt towards him but he simply shouldered through them, shrugging them aside. Omodo trusted his heavy armour and thick hide to protect him while he powered forward. His colossal war-maul came down on a hapless Murkey, crushing it into an unrecognizable pulpy mass that oozed oily blood into the sands.
Gavin saw that one of the Murkeys clinging to Omodo was holding on to an armour plate while reaching its blade around to slit the Armodon's throat. He ran forward, tossing his spear into the creature’s side, knocking it off Omodo. He then drew his short blade, thrusting it into the belly of yet another foe in one smooth motion.
Ravius and Gavin closed ranks around Omodo, protecting his flanks as he powered into the Murkeys. The Armodon's monstrous maul rose and fell crushing a fish-man to paste with each blow as the crowd roared “HAMMERHORN!” The enemy could not withstand his relentless assault, nor could they use their numbers to overwhelm him with stalwart Gavin and cunning Ravius defending him. The Murkeys broke after a minute of fighting, their warbling taking on a panicked tone as they fled into the pool, leaving the victorious Gladiators to salute the cheering crowd.
o-----
“Almost like old times, eh little brother?” said Ravius as he and Gavin sat relaxed at a table in a public house, enjoying a late night meal, waiting for Omodo to join them. The Armodon was nearby, greeting a few of his fans and some local Faction supporters.
“Almost,” said Gavin, a touch morosely. “I do miss the girls.”
“Aye, well, let's not dwell on that, little brother,” said Ravius. “I'm sure we'll all be together again, one day soon.”
“Truth,” said Gavin, pleased that Ravius was happy. “On the positive side of things, I am impressed at how our Omodo has turned his fear of crowds around. Overcoming a weakness like that is an impressive act of self-mastery.”
“Stop quoting Sax at me, little brother,” said Ravius. “I hear about self-mastery every time I get drunk these days...”
Gavin chuckled; he had actually been quoting Chosen Mordhawk. The Ogre and the Chosen were very similar in that regard. Influence of the Faultless Blade school, perhaps? “Regardless, It seems becoming an advocate for the Greens really suits him.”
“Agreed,” said Ravius. “He looks happy, purposeful...”
“He has developed a following too,” said Gavin. “That young Minotaur, Delph follows him around like a Hearthbound.”
“Delph's a good guy,” said Ravius. “I think I recognize him from some of Omodo's early matches. He's with the Greens because of Hammerhorn. The big man attracts people to the cause. He lives to help and inspires that in others.”
“This is a cause I don't mind throwing my support behind, either,” said Gavin. “Even if it means leaving the Reds for the Greens.”
“I'm all with you, little brother,” said Ravius. “Besides there is something about the young, idealistic, intelligent women who are attracted to “the cause” that interests me very much.”
Gavin rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to ask about Hummingblade. Ravius had seemed interested in the Quickling Gladiatrix for some time. He was cut off by Omodo's rumbling chuckle as the titanic Armodon eased onto a rugged bench across from them.
Domains of the Chosen 02 Bloodlust: Will to Power Page 8
