Telling the doorman through the slot that we were a friend of Carroway got us into the back door, which lead to a narrow tunnel. The doorman ushered us to follow her assistant, a kid that couldn’t be more than twelve years old, into the dark. I saw the slight burst of red light that indicated that Justice had cast her Infravision spell, and we followed the path leading down a dozen yards, before turning swiftly left and down some deep stairs.
Eventually we made it to a wide long room with a number of people inside, likewise dressed for various degrees of battle. The kid stopped us at a maitre de style stand where a tall Human woman wearing the robes of a cleracy. The fabric was bone white with trim the dark rich color of a fresh deep pool of blood.
I’d wondered how an organized arena was permitted to stand after Carroway’s invitation. Now I knew why. Justice looked a little off-put. I wonder if she knew who this cleric worshipped. I wondered if she knew something I didn’t, about this god.
“Welcome to the Hexagon, my small morsels. Are you entering to compete?”
“Possibly, what are the terms?”
“Solo or paired combat, with opponents you do not pick. Combat is until unconsciousness or death, but killing intentionally is grounds for removal without the prize award. We have a healer on staff to help with any wounds, and you get the experience and glory, and a portion of the money bet in your favor.”
I looked over at my companion. “How do you feel about it, Justice?”
“If we don’t, we’ll have to find a different way to meet our benefactor, right?”
“Indeed.”
“Let’s do it.”
“Great, glory to Ahmesh to you both. You are Team Two-Sixteen, please wait and prepare in your designated area, and an assistant will get to you shortly to record your information.”
The two of us wandered to a small bench. I suggested she look closely over her spell book and bookmark any pages that would be good for rapid, effective combat.
Combat was the only true get experience in the world and level up. One didn’t have to kill their foe. Knocking the opponent unconscious or the person giving up was sufficient, so long as the opponent was also engaged in combat with you and significant violence was provided. Whatever force decided “Combat enough” for experience was some means beyond even the gods. In my case, it was just the ‘game developer’s’ whim, now that I knew Justice.
You couldn’t get experience for knocking the same person out repeatedly, unless they’d significantly changed or improved in the intervening time. No experience for cowering or fleeing enemies either. Which was a good thing, or else someone might get it into their head to randomly murder their way to level above others. People still did do that, but they usually worked in careers where murder was more acceptable, and legal - like war.
A younger woman dressed in the same white and red of the deity of slaughter was cheerfully weaving between the various combatants who were warily sizing up one another. When she got to the two of us - with her guidance screen up to record notes - she asked, “Hello, parishioners. I am Lady Elsif, minor cutthroat. Please provide for me your titles, name, gender identifiers, preferred monikers, class, and level.”
“Uh… we aren’t parishioners.” Justice looked like he wanted leave out the way we came, but didn’t quite get that far.
“Everyone who enters the arena to spill blood is Ahmesh’s parishioner, foe.” Lady Elsif’s glee was the kind that would either infect the recipient, or frighten. I could tell it how it was affecting Justice.
I simply said, “I am Scaleen. Male and he/him, Master of the Brightly Hidden Blade, Scout, level 25.”
Justice asked, “Brightly Hidden Blade?”
I shrugged, “Made it up. Better than letting the announcer get creative.”
Justice nodded, and Lady Elsif gestured for him to go ahead. “I am Justice Kaedri, Female and she/her, Ender of the Red Dawn, Wizard, level 9.”
“Oh, ambitious at a young level. Ahmesh loves to see it.”
Justice shuddered and said, “Uh, yeah.”
---
One might ask how a deity of slaughter and violence was permitted residence in civilization as a respected church. Aside from my complete lack of surprise that those in power would want reasonable justification for their more vicious actions, the simple answer is that if Ahmesh were not a church, it would be a cult that would have little regard for the law.
So rather than fight against innate violence in society, it has been embraced, permitted, and legalized. As it happened, Ahmesh has a small, but well kept shrine in the City Guard headquarters. I kept note of who maintained it.
I did not want to be here, more than Justice. This was just another institution I would see destroyed, were I tyrant for a day. And if I weren’t here to meet up with Captain Raim, I would not play along with this bloodsport.
While Justice quietly and nervously reviewed spells in her spellbook, to make sure she could find the right page quickly, I studied the people in the room. Regularly, people were brought up to fight, perhaps every fifteen minutes, and more people came in the same way we did. I never saw anyone leave after their fight. Probably took another exit from the arena.
I finally decided that we were likely the lowest level among those competing, but not the least skilled.
Our number was called and I nodded to Justice, who’d been managing her nerves with a bouncing knee and humming/mumbling one of her alien tunes.
We walked up to the door and were ushered through more stone tunnels to a smaller room with an attendant that wasn’t wearing the white and red of slaughter, but instead a simpler dress I’d expect on a bureaucrat. He ushered us to stand before him.
“By taking part in Ahmesh’s Game, you forfeit your right to civil action against your opponent and the arena. This forfeiture only stands for as long as you are in the arena. Do you accept?”
“Yes.” I said with little fanfare.
Justice quickly agreed, “Yes.”
“Your fight is against another pair. They may be fresh, or they may have won the previous bout. They have a right to size you up before deciding to fight you. This includes Inspection as a matter. You may inspect them once the fight begins. If you win, the right will stand for you against your next opponents. Combat is not intended to be intentionally lethal. You may do as much damage as it takes to knock your opponent unconscious or to surrender, but killing your opponent forfeits any monetary gains and you may not remain in the arena to fight the next round. Aside from a prohibition on using anathematic effects, which would prevent your opponent from healing, there are few other rules. If you leave the arena before the fight ends, you lose. If you are knocked unconscious, you lose. If you surrender by declaring “I surrender,” you lose. If your partner surrenders, you may continue to fight. You may not fake surrender. Once the match is called or you surrender, you may not harm your opponent. You may not intentionally harm the referee. Are these rules understood?”
“Yes,” we both chorused.
“Alright. We have sent your information to the announcer. You’ll be up in a few.”
He left the room through a side door, though we were clearly supposed to go to the arena through a set of ornate double doors when our time was called.
Justice looked at me, “So, how would you approach this?”
“You use Inspect to identify their specialties and shout them out. Nothing detailed, just the highlights. Book casting will make you a big target, so don’t unless they are both truly engaged.”
“Ha, shouldn’t have expected the A.I. to remain on easy mode.”
“‘Easy mode’ is letting the war happen. Let’s do better.”
Her resolve stiffened, and she put a hand on that book fastened to her hip.
“Any secrets you have from your world regarding arena fighting?”
Justice took a moment to think about it, before offering, “In the game, hidden in the code, changing targets often was advantageous against sentients NPCs. The longer you fight the same enemy, the harder it is to interrupt their abilities, as they get used to defending. Also, critical hits and weak point targeting is the best way to take down higher level enemies, the status effects from criticals scale to the target. I think that’s still true.” She swallowed, then looked at me, “Is… is that good? Is it well known?”
I already had a menu up, and was making notes, putting a few thoughts to investigate when we had more time. “That is very good. If it’s known, it’s not common.”
There was a chime of a bell, and the double doors began to swing open, towards us.
Justice and I squared up and began walking down the ramp.
Combat was the only true *way to* get experience in the world and level up.
I think you accidentally forgot to write in these words
Ahmesh loves to see it.
I can hear her joyous happy voice as she says this lol
Ahmesh has a small, but well kept shrine in the City Guard headquarters. I kept note of who maintained it.
Of course the cops would have this....