roaring crowds, with their waving flags and badly painted signs, he felt . . . embarrassed, almost. He knew it didn’t make sense, but that didn’t make it go away. Raedren locked his eyes on the wall ahead.
I should raise my staff or something.
Raedren’s arm didn’t move.
I’ll regret it if I don’t. His staff rose timidly, and the crowd cheered. He decided that was enough. He kept his eyes straight ahead as he walked.
“Facing off against him, we have a familiar face! A former gladiator who fought here in Kitpicc many times, he’s now the pride of the Tryrindar Knights! Here he is—Tamirr ‘Bone Bender’ Qua’Nihil!”
Like Raedren, Qua’Nihil was a tall man, but filled out, his muscles and fat making him look big where Raedren’s rail-thin frame made him look only tall. Qua’Nihil’s face was a mystery, for it was hidden behind a helmet in the shape of an owl. He wore thick plate armor on his shins, right arm, and shoulders, and other than that he was naked save for the leather wrapped around his midriff and groin. He had a sword in his right hand, and a shield strapped to his left.
The two bowed to each other. “Good luck,” said Raedren.
“May your blood be a hearty offering to the gods,” said Qua’Nihil.
Readren chose not to comment.
“Let the fifth match of Team Kil’Raeus against the representatives of the Guildmaster’s Council, of Mas Ian’Moro versus Tamirr “Bone Bender” Qua’Nihil . . .”
Bwaaaaaaang!
“Begin!”
Raedren watched as Qua’Nihil’s seventh consecutive spell struck his barriers. He quietly repaired them and took a few steps forward.
“Again!” Qua’Nihil banged his sword on his shield and chanted another spell. Divine magick crackled down his blade. “ . . . irbloom yslup pid korska—Spirit Lance! ”
“ Horvér .” Raedren blocked the spell and shuffled forward.
“Stop defending and fight me properly!” said Qua’Nihil. He chanted another spell. “ . . . kakros de orn i’bd—King’s Claw! ”
Raedren shook his head. The spell failed to penetrate his defenses, and he pushed forward.
Qua’Nihil growled. “I said fight me! ” He stepped forward and hacked at Raedren’s barriers, divine magick arcing off his blade.
“No thanks.” Raedren caught Qua’Nihil’s sword on his staff and stepped forward. Qua’Nihil pulled away, and then resumed his attack.
Though it wasn’t clear what was happening from the arena floor, from the stands it was obvious. Raedren had been methodically pushing Qua’Nihil across the arena since the match began, and already had him two-thirds of the way to the south wall.
It took a few more minutes before Qua’Nihil realized, when one of the freestanding columns came into his peripheral vision. “Are you trying to corner me?” he scoffed loudly. “Ridiculous! What will you do if you trap me when you won’t attack?”
“You’ll see. Sorté .” Raedren continued forward, and despite Qua’Nihil’s best efforts he was knocked off balance by Raedren’s barriers. Green-tinted force winds kicked up, and Qua’Nihil was pushed nearly to the wall.
Qua’Nihil’s eyes narrowed. He raised his shield and threw his head back. “ Oplimolir pylbss—Lion’s Roar! ”
Lightning struck between the two, the yellow light bubbling and roiling until it took on a hard orange edge. When the thunder had cleared, Raedren found an orange and black lion, made entirely of mana, standing in front of him.
“Get him!” yelled Qua’Nihil. The lion opened its mouth and roared, its voice filled with static 14 . Qua’Nihil and the mana beast leapt forward and struck.
Raedren looked up at the wall looming over them as blade and claw clattered against his defenses. Close enough.
The crackle of the mana lion’s claws fell silent. Qua’Nihil looked over to see the mana lion flailing, its forepaws coming within centimeters of Raedren’s barriers, then decimeters, then meters. The mana lion continued
I should raise my staff or something.
Raedren’s arm didn’t move.
I’ll regret it if I don’t. His staff rose timidly, and the crowd cheered. He decided that was enough. He kept his eyes straight ahead as he walked.
“Facing off against him, we have a familiar face! A former gladiator who fought here in Kitpicc many times, he’s now the pride of the Tryrindar Knights! Here he is—Tamirr ‘Bone Bender’ Qua’Nihil!”
Like Raedren, Qua’Nihil was a tall man, but filled out, his muscles and fat making him look big where Raedren’s rail-thin frame made him look only tall. Qua’Nihil’s face was a mystery, for it was hidden behind a helmet in the shape of an owl. He wore thick plate armor on his shins, right arm, and shoulders, and other than that he was naked save for the leather wrapped around his midriff and groin. He had a sword in his right hand, and a shield strapped to his left.
The two bowed to each other. “Good luck,” said Raedren.
“May your blood be a hearty offering to the gods,” said Qua’Nihil.
Readren chose not to comment.
“Let the fifth match of Team Kil’Raeus against the representatives of the Guildmaster’s Council, of Mas Ian’Moro versus Tamirr “Bone Bender” Qua’Nihil . . .”
Bwaaaaaaang!
“Begin!”
Raedren watched as Qua’Nihil’s seventh consecutive spell struck his barriers. He quietly repaired them and took a few steps forward.
“Again!” Qua’Nihil banged his sword on his shield and chanted another spell. Divine magick crackled down his blade. “ . . . irbloom yslup pid korska—Spirit Lance! ”
“ Horvér .” Raedren blocked the spell and shuffled forward.
“Stop defending and fight me properly!” said Qua’Nihil. He chanted another spell. “ . . . kakros de orn i’bd—King’s Claw! ”
Raedren shook his head. The spell failed to penetrate his defenses, and he pushed forward.
Qua’Nihil growled. “I said fight me! ” He stepped forward and hacked at Raedren’s barriers, divine magick arcing off his blade.
“No thanks.” Raedren caught Qua’Nihil’s sword on his staff and stepped forward. Qua’Nihil pulled away, and then resumed his attack.
Though it wasn’t clear what was happening from the arena floor, from the stands it was obvious. Raedren had been methodically pushing Qua’Nihil across the arena since the match began, and already had him two-thirds of the way to the south wall.
It took a few more minutes before Qua’Nihil realized, when one of the freestanding columns came into his peripheral vision. “Are you trying to corner me?” he scoffed loudly. “Ridiculous! What will you do if you trap me when you won’t attack?”
“You’ll see. Sorté .” Raedren continued forward, and despite Qua’Nihil’s best efforts he was knocked off balance by Raedren’s barriers. Green-tinted force winds kicked up, and Qua’Nihil was pushed nearly to the wall.
Qua’Nihil’s eyes narrowed. He raised his shield and threw his head back. “ Oplimolir pylbss—Lion’s Roar! ”
Lightning struck between the two, the yellow light bubbling and roiling until it took on a hard orange edge. When the thunder had cleared, Raedren found an orange and black lion, made entirely of mana, standing in front of him.
“Get him!” yelled Qua’Nihil. The lion opened its mouth and roared, its voice filled with static 14 . Qua’Nihil and the mana beast leapt forward and struck.
Raedren looked up at the wall looming over them as blade and claw clattered against his defenses. Close enough.
The crackle of the mana lion’s claws fell silent. Qua’Nihil looked over to see the mana lion flailing, its forepaws coming within centimeters of Raedren’s barriers, then decimeters, then meters. The mana lion continued
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