Domains of the Chosen 02 Bloodlust: Will to Power

by C. P. D. Harris

  Gavin wove an image of himself, stepping around the troll as he fought to dodge an attack. He released the image just as the troll started turning back towards him. Drawn to movement, the troll swung at the image, stumbling a little as its club passed right through. Gavin took the opportunity to line up a precise thrust at a weak-spot. He put all of his weight and strength into the attack, driving six inches of spear into the troll's armpit. He twisted the blade to do as much damage as possible, then ripped it out barbs and all. Blood spurted onto the sand. The troll, angered more than pained, whirled on him. It struck at him with its shield while its weapon arm twitched uselessly. Even a troll would take a while to heal the chunk that Gavin took out of it.

  Omodo cast a short burst of fire into the face of one of the pole-sword wielding trolls, blinding it as he knocked the weapon of the other troll away. The second troll showed skill in allowing its weapon to be beaten aside too easily, which caused Omodo's maul to swing out of position for a second strike. Omodo stepped in slamming the flat of his horn into the troll's face-guard, sending it staggering back. The troll he had left on the ground smacked its club against his leg, causing pain but no real damage.

  Gavin risked a glance at the scoreboard. “Sixty-three,” he linked. His heart fell a little, he felt like they had been fighting for some time, but they still had a long way to go. He banished thoughts of failure from his mind. They just had to endure.

  Omodo now faced three trolls and decided to give ground. The trolls did not seem overly inclined to rash action, respecting his greater strength and speed. The two pole-sword wielders kept pace with the limping shield-bearer. Their formation was solid; Omodo could not attack any of them without exposing himself to strokes from the others. These were obviously arena veterans, with a better understanding of how to face a Gladiator than younger trolls.

  “C'mon,” jeered Ravius, ducking under a double swing of a huge club. “You couldn't hit the sand with that thing, fatty!”

  “Gonna grind you into bitch-paste little man,” said the troll he was fighting. Its voice was distorted; metallic sounding from the mask it wore.

  “You need to practice a little more with that thing first, I'd say,” whooped Ravius as he darted into stab at the troll. His attacked, however, had less sting than his words and the Troll came at him, relentlessly.

  Risking an attack against one of the pole-sword trolls, Omodo took a hit from a club on his arm. He was glad of the extra protection provided by his stoneskin spell, which deadened the impact of the heavy weapon. Omodo's heavy maul slammed into the Troll, knocking the pole-sword wielder back. This bought him some space. He decided to assault them with some simple elemental spells while they closed, wishing he could manage more powerful magics. A Maelstrom spell would work wonders. The trolls resisted his spells with ease.

  Gavin moved in to help Omodo. His own opponent was slower and still suffering from the wound he had dealt it earlier. There was a risk that it would peel off and attack Ravius instead of following him, but more trolls would enter the arena soon and Omodo seemed to be their primary target.

  The Armodon saw Gavin coming and moved so that the trolls would present their flank as they followed him. He feinted a heavy swing at the shield-bearer in the midst of their formation and then stepped back quickly. The troll following Gavin shouted a warning to its fellows; caught between the Armodon and the onrushing defender they were force to split.

  Gavin baited the troll with a false image, an illusion of himself attacking high while he aimed a long lunge at a knee joint. The troll however, was a quick thinker, sweeping its pole-sword down through the image and carrying on towards the lunging Gladiator. Gavin quickly raised his shield. The force of the blow against his shield drove him down, ruining his attack. He rolled backwards to avoid another vicious swipe of the long-bladed polearm.

  Omodo met with more success. As one of the pole-sword wielders turned to face Gavin the Armodon aimed an attack at its back. The shield-bearer at the centre of the formation moved to intercept the attack. Omodo bellowed, putting every ounce of his strength and momentum into the swing. His maul crashed into the heavy metal shield with a thunderous clamour. The shield deformed under the impact, breaking bones and actually lifting the troll from its feet. The crowd roared. The troll hit the ground a few paces away, sending up a puff of sand. The Armodon stepped forward, locking weapons with the remaining pole-sword before pushing him back as well.

  More trolls entered the arena, one of each type. Ravius was forced cast his net to entangle one of them. His mobility was now seriously hampered in a crowded fighting grounds. He could not avoid every attack. A pole-sword left a brutal cut on his shoulder, would have tapped him out if not for protective enchantments. The skirmisher rolled to his feet with a snarl, willing himself to stand tall; he did not want to let Omodo and Gavin down this. He avoided a crushing blow from a club and leapt over a pole-sword, glancing up at the score as he landed. They still had twenty-five points to go.

  If it weren't for the penalties for not getting a “touch” in every thirty seconds, Gavin could easily have adopted safer tactics. The trolls were ponderous in full battle armour, and he could stay out of reach as long as they did not corner him. As it was, he had to come within their reach to touch them and avoid the penalty. He was able to escape harm until the score count ticked to eighty. One of the trolls faked an attack, and then punched him with its armoured fist as he committed to defend against the wrong attack. It was a deft move, and Gavin cursed himself for not seeing it coming. He reeled, spitting out teeth and blood and then the troll swung again, smashing its club into his shoulder armour. The crowd gasped as Gavin crumpled. His head swam. The troll lifted a foot to stomp on him. Darkness threatened. It would be so easy for him to give in to oblivion, to let his broken form rest. He heard people screaming for him to get up, and willed the world back into focus, rolling away as the foot came down, slamming in the sand where his face had been. He lurched to his feet, feeling the bones in his broken shoulder grind.

  Omodo had to renew his stoneskin spell. The trolls forced him away from Gavin, pummelling him relentlessly. His massive frame was covered in bruises and cuts in spite of his thick armour and tough hide. He pushed against four trolls using his war-maul to ward them off.

  Ravius kept close to the trolls now, and when one of the pole-swords swung at him and buried its weapon in the sand he nimbly slipped around it and leapt onto its broad back. The troll bucked and tried to throw him but the skirmisher held on with ferocious tenacity. It seemed to him to be a safer place than on the ground where they could swing at him.

  As their score ticked to ninety, three trolls armed with massive geared spike throwers strode onto the fighting grounds. They immediately shot at Omodo. Gavin began weaving as soon as he saw and was able to knock one of the massive bolts out of the air with his magic. Omodo saw one of the other bolts coming and shifted so that it impacted on his thick shoulder guards. The final bolt hit him in the back, and Omodo went down. The trolls piled onto him.

  Gavin threw himself into the pile kicking and stabbing, lashing out with his magic. He could feel Omodo struggling in the scrum, his titanic strength surging against the sheer mass of troll-flesh. Gavin channelled power, feeding the Armodon focus.

  Ravius looked at carnage, and then looked at the score. He waited several agonizing moments as his friends took a beating. When the score reached one hundred and one he yelled “TIME.” The trumpets rang out immediately and the crowd surged to its feet.

  After a few moments the trolls began pulling themselves off Omodo. Gavin slid off the back of the troll he had been attacking. He was bruised, bleeding, and dizzy, but he stood, spitting blood.

  They looked at Omodo, then at each other. The Armodon was lying on the ground, bleeding freely from a dozen wounds. His face was swollen, his eyes blackened. His breathing was shallow. Every instinct, human and humane, begged them to run to the Armodon's side and help him, but the giant Armodon had to stand under
his own power or they would lose points.

  “GLADIATORS STAND!” the announcer's voice cut through the arena. “TEN, NINE, EIGHT...”

  Omodo stirred, but did not get up. Gavin shifted; he looked at Ravius, reading his friend's expression, a mirror of his own pain.

  “SEVEN, SIX,” the count continued.

  “C'mon Hammerhorn,” said Ravius. Omodo's hands flexed. The audience heard the name and began to chant, Gavin joined him. “HAMMERHORN, HAMMERHORN”

  “FIVE, FOUR,”

  Omodo rolled onto his belly. Gavin could see that the bolt was still lodged in his back. The Armodon began to push himself to his feet. The chant grew louder. Gavin and Ravius found themselves shouting encouragement. Omodo's massive arms flexed and he pushed himself up, biceps quivering with effort. And then, the trolls, who respect courage above all else, joined the chant. “HAMMERHORN!”

  “THREE, TWO, O-”

  And lo the giant stood, bellowing blood as they shouted his name.

  And the glory was theirs as the Greens won the day.

  Chapter Fifty: Back to Back

  1147/06/06 AR, Dun Loryn Tournament. Greens 101 (1st place) after the second round. Gavin's ranking match is delayed

  “The old games were pure. Battle is about life and death, not who scores the most points.” Valaran diVolcanus.

  “I am all for harsh training, but we are constantly fighting against incursions in the west and bleeding men in the Trials. The cold, hard truth is that we need more Gifted trained to fight. Enough of this nonsense about the merits of the old games. We need Warbound, not corpses.” Chosen Mordhawk, 823 AR.

  “Valaran's saying that the trolls went easy on you,” said Delph, a long-time fan of Omodo who travelled with the Greens. The Minotaur was a familiar sight to Gavin now and often brought them news. “Because beast races stick together he says. He's petitioning for a re-match.”

  “Trolls aren't a beast race,” said Ravius.

  “Neither are you and I, for that matter” said Gavin.

  “If that was 'going easy' I don’t even want to think about what our troll friends would do in a real fight!” said Omodo, chuckling. “Thanks for letting us know, Delph. Why don't you sit down for a bit?”

  The Tauran grabbed a chair, looking shyly at Gavin, Ravius, and Cleothera. Once his gaze fixed on Omodo it never wavered though.

  “Seriously, all three of the shooters went right for you the moment they stepped in the arena,” said Gavin. “It’s not possible for them to be any more aggressive than that.”

  “Valaran doesn't understand Troll culture,” said Ravius. “Not that anyone should be surprised by that. Trolls are harder on Gladiators that they like; it shows their respect. They value toughness and courage, and don't understand physical pain the way most people in the Domains do. His claims are both arrogant and insulting.”

  “The judges feel that way too,” said Cleothera. “They won't call for a rematch.”

  “What do you think Delph?” asked Omodo.

  “Hmmm...,” the young minotaur seemed. “I think he's just mad that you beat him. He's even complaining that your holding up the tournament while you heal. I used to admire him, but I guess now that I'm older, I don't like him... He's a strong fighter but he doesn't act like a Champion.”

  “Well said,” agreed Omodo.

  o-----

  As the current leading team, they were the first to take the field. The audience was a sea of green-clad men and women waving banners with their names, Hammerhorns attired to look like Armodons, and there was even a huge painted sign depicting Omodo standing triumphant with his leg on the back of a gold-armoured figure. Gavin could feel the excitement of the crowd pressing on him, all that power waiting to be tapped. He shook himself before he could become too enraptured by it; this was a safe crowd, but he still didn't want to become drunk on their thoughts. He wondered how Sadira did it; perhaps she just enjoyed riding the wave of emotion.

  “Too bad this match is open ended like the rest, brothers,” said Ravius. “I could deal with getting a perfect score and not having to worry about how the other teams are doing.”

  “That would be a little anti-climactic for a tournament like this,” said Gavin.

  “Yes, this way anyone in the top five could beat our score if they have a truly brilliant match,” said Omodo. “Scarmaker and Pikesteer are leading good teams. They deserve a shot.”

  “I guess we'll just have to do brilliantly as well,” said Ravius as they raised their weapons in salute.

  “Get the best score that we can,” continued Gavin

  “Win or lose,” added Omodo. “Let’s do our best; we will show the people that the Greens are worthy.”

  Gavin was tempted to add “for honour and glory”, or something along those lines, but he did not want to seem cliché.

  The third and final match of the Dun Loryn Tournament was dubbed a “Lord of the Mountain” fight. The Gladiators would have to take and hold a mound built in the middle of the fighting grounds, earning extra points as long as one of their number occupied the high ground. They would also earn points for kills and, much to Gavin's relief; points would be deducted if a Gladiator tapped out. The later made defence more important.

  Their opponents this match did not need an entrance-way; they were conjured directly onto the fighting grounds. There was a surge of magic and half a dozen elemental spirits began to animate physical bodies. To the Gladiators' magical senses, this manifested as a throbbing surge of power accompanied by complex patterns forming and coming together with practised alacrity. Visually this was accompanied by several blocky bodies made from sand and stone rising out of the ground and two clouds of whirling debris like miniature living tornadoes forming.

  Gavin and Ravius immediately began weaving disruptions into the patterns of the elementals. Omodo surveyed the arena, thinking tactically, and then charged, picking up speed as he raised his massive hammer. By the time he reached the first earth elemental, the crowd was cheering.

  These small elementals outweighed most men, and had the strength and durability of stone. The Armodon shouldered into one, letting the unyielding adamantine plate of his spaulder take most of the impact. The elemental, though heavy and strong, was no match for him and was sent tumbling back. Omodo's colossal war-maul came down on the next in line, crushing it to chunks. But a blast of wind and sand stopped him in his tracks. He found himself suddenly short of breath as an air elemental tried to suck the wind from him.

  Gavin moved between Omodo and the wind elemental. Sand and debris blasted his shield. He had to hold himself back from thrusting his spear into the whirling mass; it might present an easy target, but he doubted his weapon would hurt it. Instead he continued attacking the elemental's pattern, pulling apart the threads that animated it. Chunks of stone began flying at him, driven with tremendous force by the miniature cyclone. He intercepted these with his shield, the stone ringing of the bright metal as it broke into smaller shards.

  Omodo took a blow from one of the earthen figures as he blinked the sand from his eyes and fought for breath. Although the attack was powerful, it was poorly aimed. Omodo turned into it so most of the force struck a thick armour plate. He grunted, shaking off the attack, and then whirled the long haft of his war-maul like a quarterstaff, tripping his attacker before it could swing again. He hopped onto the prone body, his considerable weight pushing it down into the sand. Then his weapon whirled into a powerful overhand swing, coming straight down onto the next earth elemental. The creature raised its arms to catch the attack but the sheer force of the blow pulverized both the arms and the head beneath.

  Ravius darted about the arena, slowly destroying the second wind elemental with disruption weaves while he distracted the earthen beings. He nimbly avoid fist sized chunks of rocks, whooping scornfully.

  The wind elemental Gavin was working on began to fray. An earth elemental attacked him, swinging its heavy fists in a brutal arc. He deflected the blow with a cunningly ang
led shield, thrusting his spear into the elemental's head. The sharp metal gouged the stone but if it harmed the elemental he saw no sign. He quickly stepped forward and shoved it back with his shield, which was marginally more effective. As he did so he plucked a vital thread from the pattern of the wind elemental which finally fell apart.

  Fresh elementals formed to replace the fallen, as long-dormant patterns and the power needed to animate them were invoked by the mages of the arena. A being of pure flame sprang up in front of Ravius and the nimble Gladiator was forced to leap to the side and roll away as it seared the sands behind him. He could feel the heat of the fire as he sprinted away.

  Unweaving the threads of a still forming air elemental proved to be easier than disrupting one that was already active. Gavin felt a surge of triumph until he realized that they had not gained any points for the action. He felt a sharp spike of guilt, but quickly set it aside and began to disrupt the elementals around him while fending off the huge club-like stone fists of his most direct assailants.

  As he crushed another pair of earthen figures with two back and forth sweeps of his war maul, Omodo felt cold liquid creeping around his leg. He looked down to see a blob of water, eerily cohesive as it climbed his leg. He reached down to push it away, but it was pointless, the water simply ran through his fingers and the elemental transferred to his arm. With disturbing swiftness it encased his head, flowing into his nose and mouth. It tried to force itself down Omodo's throat. The Armodon shook his head but could not dislodge it. An earth elemental hit him from behind and he stumbled. He needed a quick solution.

  Ravius, running from the fire elemental, saw a chance to solve two problems at once. He sprinted at Omodo, hoping the larger Gladiator would understand his signals despite his plight. He felt the heat of the swift fire elemental as it chased him. Stopping short of the water covered Armodon, turning to face his pursuer. He waited until it was nearly on him, and then leapt into the air, putting his hand on Omodo's shoulder as he sprang over. The fire elemental surged after him. Omodo thrust his face into it, covering his eyes. The water elemental and the fire elemental met with a hiss of steam. Both dissipated. The crowd roared. Omodo reeled from the vicious steam burns, gulping air and spitting up water. Gavin and Ravius closed ranks around him while he recovered.