The Games of Saberhaven
Bellow vs. Rasta Rolarian
To no one's surprise, Rasta "Freak" Rolarian has pushed his way through the tournament to the championship bracket. There he faces the Cambion Prince Bellow, the opponent who knocked Rasta out of the Top 8 in the previous tournamanet. The hatred between these two goes back to the epic battles told in bard's tales between the Dukes of Hell on Earth and the Powers of the Dark - once led by Bellow.
Both competitors are masters of the field, wielding deadly weapons and impressive magicks. Victory in this fight will depend on quick wits and clever tactics.
The doors at both ends of the Arena open, and the announcements begin. Both combatants step into the ring. Bellow is surrounded by seven mirror images of himself, though it is impossible to tell which of the eight is the real half-demon. At the other end, Rasta is surrounded in blue flickering flames. He gives Bellow a wicked grin, and fades from sight. The eight Bellows move across a third of the Arena, to the crowd's chants of "Freeeeak! Freeeeak!" and "Bel-low! Bel-low! Bel-low!"
Bellow and his images go from a full stride into levitation, almost without pause. They float slowly upwards, covering twenty feet over the course of a minute. There is still no sign of Rasta, but Bellow seems unconcerned.
Rasta suddenly appears on the ground forty feet to the left of the floating Bellow, just as all of Bellow's mirror images merge back into one. The cambion prince continues to float in the air, staring intently at the barbarian-mage. His gaze shifts as Rasta unexpectedly teleports fifteen feet to his left.
Freak watches the half-demon in anticipation, drawing forth his bow and an arrow. Bellow continues to concentrate his will on his opponent, with dramatic effect: Rasta suddenly doubles over in agony, all but knocked off his feet by the mental barrage. He teleports back about four yards, but when he lands, he is off balance, and lands badly on his right ankle. Noticeably favoring his left leg, and sweating and panting heavily, Rasta fumbles to get his bow ready again.
The crowd gets excited as Bellow begins casting a spell, and Rasta puts aside his bow to pull forth a wand. Rasta mutters a command word, but there is no visible effect, to the audience's disappointment. Bellow summons forth a wall of whirling blades in midair, placed between himself and his opponent. As if to punctuate the lack of offensive actions, Rasta blinks three feet to the side.
Now the barbarian-mage puts away his wand and draws forth his sword. Bellow merely watches from the air, concentrating on some effect which fails to manifest. Rasta focuses for a moment, then stands up straighter, apparently having healed himself of his unseen injuries. He then blinks a bit in the other direction.
Bellow is still motionless, staring at Rasta. His lack of movement, for almost two full minutes now, is almost unnerving. Rasta is about to raise his hands to cast another spell, when suddenly he doubles over once again in massive pain and shock. Retching, he barely manages to keep his feet, and it is all he can do to keep standing as he blinks right just a couple of feet. After a few seconds, as Bellow looks down in satisfaction, Rasta manages to stand up straight again, sweat beading out on his forehead.
The enormously tall barbarian struggles to complete his spell, and apparently is able to do so, though there are no visible effects. Just after completing the enchantment, he teleports a mere three feet to the left. Bellow adjusts a pair of spectacles on his face, and a beam of sparkling light shoots out of them toward Rasta. The beam stops just a few feet away, however, apparently blocked by some barrier. Perhaps this is the reason why Rasta's blinks have been of such short distances.
Bellow tries again with the spectacles, sending another beam toward Rasta, this one of a slightly different hue. Once again, the ray is blocked by whatever barrier Rasta has erected. For his part, the barbarian flicks the wand in his left hand, and then blinks to the right about fifteen feet. He seems to concentrate on Bellow, but there are no outward effects.
Rasta tucks his wand into his belt and picks up the bow lying beside him. With amazing speed, he nocks an arrow and draws the string. He waits for a moment, a bead drawn on Bellow through the circling shield of the blade barrier. In response, the cambion draws his sword. Without notice, Bellow appears next to Rasta, ready to strike. The barbarian whirls on his opponent, loosing his arrow a bit too early, and it goes flying off to shatter against the wall of the Arena. Drawing again with inhuman speed, before Bellow can even draw back to swing, Rasta launches another arrow at point-blank range. This one finds its mark, hitting Bellow just above the guard of his shield, but it bounces off the lionskin draped tied there, leaving only a scratch in Bellow's shoulder.
Bellow replies with a murderous swing of his sword. The blade glances off with a "chink" and a shower of sparks, just as Rasta teleports away to the other end of the Arena. The audience cheers at the exchange of blows. The barbarian-sorcerer draws up his bow, and the blue aura of flame dies from around him.
Rasta pulls an arrow from his quiver, nocks, draws... and the arrow slips off the peg of the bow. Rasta curses vehemently and brings his bow down to get the shaft back into place. Meanwhile, Bellow sheathes his sword, turns his back to Rasta and starts digging in a belt pouch. The spectators in the front rows can see him switch rings on his right hand, and put the other ring back into the pouch. Across the Arena, Rasta's face falls blank. The arrow falls to the ground as he drops his bow arm to his side and stares slack-jawed into space. Bellow looks around to see this, and appears to be somewhat surprised. Taking advantage of the situation, however, he runs forward in Rasta's direction.
About fifty yards out, he skids to a halt. Rasta still has not moved. Bellow raises up his right hand. A tremendous lightning bolt explodes through the air, starting twenty feet from Rasta, knocking him to the floor, and rebounding off the stone wall of the Arena over his head. The bolt leaves Rasta dazed and in flames, and most of his equipment seems to be slagged or charred. The barbarian manages to sit up, but doesn't quite seem aware of his surroundings.
Still not waiting for Rasta to regain his senses, Bellow begins a low, guttural chant, opening his hands to the ground. Several seconds tick by as the demonspawn prays. Rasta manages to stand, holding his head between his hands. Bellow's chant raises to a climax, and a great column of flame erupts from the ground to engulf the barbarian. Rasta manages to stumble half out of the inferno, but flames lick around his clothing and the remainder of his gear.
Bellow walks deliberately toward Rasta. The barbarian is barely standing, his eyes glazed over from shock. Muttering a few unholy syllables, the cambion reaches toward Rasta. The tall human instinctively pulls away, but Bellow's fingers brush against his arm. Rasta's already scorched and burnt body opens up in fresh, bleeding wounds. Unable to take anything more, Rasta collapses to the ground.
Breathing heavily with exertion but almost completely unscathed, Bellow raises his sword and shield high into the air, and roars in exultation. "Pathetic mortals! All will fall before the might of Bellow!" Half of the crowd falls back into the chant: "Bel-low, Bel-low, Bel-low," while the other half boos and hisses. Bellow stands around and enjoys his applause, while the healing priests come out to attend to Rasta.
[ Atlas ][
Mythology ][
Bestiary ][
Faiths ][
Kalimantan ][
Credits ]
[ History ][
Lexicon ][
Artifacts ][
The Games ][
PBeM ][
Other Worlds ]