566. Preliminaries VIII
<em>Victory!</em>
<em>XP Gained: +400</em>
<em>XP: 10 200 -> 10 600</em>
‘If he had tried to attack me, I would have had to Onward Soar,’ Adam thought. ‘If I had lost so much gold because he wanted to take a cheap shot, I’d have to stop holding back against everyone.’
‘What a crazy bastard,’ La thought from the top of the central octagon, magically hidden from sight. ‘His party alone managed to shift the odds back to favour them.’ Betting more than a thousand gold was something La saw from the wealthiest of nobles and merchants, those within the central octagon beneath her, and typically only for the fights in the older ranges, those full of Masters, Grandmasters, and Paragons.
“Should we refuse his bets?” a senior worker asked.
“No. If he wishes to bet all that money, then he’ll have to ept losing all of it when he makes the wrong bet. If he keeps making the right bets each time, we won’t act.” La wondered if the nobles were going to kick up a fuss after losing such a great bet.
Under her, the greatest nobles and merchants were snacking on various fruits, sipping fine wines, and drinking the most delicious teas.
“How fortunate,” Duchess Eastsea said, beaming towards the beautiful Half Elf. “I’m sure the odds of the bet were greater then two to one.”
Kira smiled towards the Duchess, leaning back in her plush chair. “I should bet on my own kind, at least.” She had bet on Adam out of courtesy, and for the sake of betting. She hadn’t bet on Adam previously, when he had faced de, but this time she had decided to throw a fair sum of gold on the Half Elf, who was currently undefeated.
The Duchess had already motioned for one of her guards to find out more about Adam. She would need to keep an eye on him, the young man who had beaten two of the favourites to win the segment. She did not recognise the armour as one which was traded through the regions, though it hadn’t taken long to recall the Iyr’s special alloy known as puthral.
“You did not use Wraith?” Jurot asked. He was certain that Adam could have used a greater smite, as well as whatever Wraith could do, in order topletely defeat his opponent.
“I can’t show you up the day after you do something cool,” Adam replied. “Even if I do want to one shot some great prodigy, I don’t want to take away anything from you.”
“Many will know your name now. You defeated a prodigy of the Three Hundred des.”
Adam smirked. “Good.”
“The bets will no longer pay as well.”
Adam frowned. “Damn.”
“Tomorrow, the fights will take a pause, and we can rest,” Jurot said. “The small fights will begin.”
“Small fights?”
“Fights which are not official by the eyes of the arena,” Jurot exined. “Many warriors who could not join the tournament will fight. There are some warriors from the tournament that participate too.”
Adam slowly nodded his head. “Can we bet?”
“Yes.”
Adam smiled, slowly nodding his head.
<em>Omen: 7, 19</em>
Adam smiled, slowly nodding his head.
There were moremoners on the first floor of the arena now, with the arena selling ces within the first floor to those who weren’t merchants or adventurers this day. Adam and his group arrived before noon in order to watch some of the fights.
‘Should I fight too? I want to make some money so…’
“Hey, are you Adam?” an Aswadian man asked. He was in histe twenties or early thirties, and wore studded leather, with a round disc of painted metal against his chest. At his side were a pair of scimitars.
“That I am.”
“Hari,” the Aswadian said, extending a hand.
Adam shook Hari’s forearm. “How can I help you?”
“I thought you looked pretty good at fighting. Thought I’d try to have a go myself. I’m pretty well known back home for being a decent warrior. I’m a little older than you, but I’m sure you don’t mind that, right?”
“I don’t,” Adam said.
“I don’t have a magical weapon, so if we could, perhaps we can go without the magical weapons?”
“What about magical armour?”
“You’d fight in all your armour for a friendly bout?”
“I’d like to bet.”
“How much?”
“Somethingfortable for you.”
“I’ve made a few bets during the fights,” Hari admitted. “A hundred gold?”
“A hundred gold it is. Nobby, can I borrow your axe?”
“Okay, mister boss.”
“Thank you.” Adam and the Aswadian made their way down.
Jurot’s eyes remained glued to the figure, noting the way they walked, their steps light. Jurot assumed he was at least an Expert, but there was something else about the way they moved. It wasn’t the movement of a warrior, but that of someone who tried to blend into the crowd, steps silent, des tucked in close. ‘He is no thief.’
Jurot tapped on the table with a finger, messaging the other Iyrmen discreetly. Jaygak leaned back, smirking slightly. Her response was the most audacious from the rest of the group. Kitool was nowhere to be seen, disappearing after Jurot’s message.
Adam and Hari spoke with a worker, who allowed them to take a section of an arena to themselves once a pair was done with their fight. They handed over the gold to the arena worker, who wrote down their bets.
“No killing,” the worker said.
“Of course,” Adam said, patting his amulet. “I’ll apologise to the good Lord in the evening.”
The worker cleared their throat, and nodded their head in thanks. After a pair were done with their fights, the worker escorted Adam and Hari. “Would you like to inspect each other’s weapons?”
“I’m good,” Adam replied, looking to Hari.
“I am fine as well.”
“Whatever happens to your equipment cannot be med on the arena. You are responsible for your own equipment, and your lives.”
“Sure, sure,” Adam replied.
“Of course,” Hari added, shing a charming smile.
“You ready?” Adam asked, donning Strong Shield. He had worn his armour that morning because he was sure he was going to fight, especially with the Omen he had received.
The Aswadian pulled out his scimitars clumsily, which shone from the sun. Hari held both ahead of him in a cross pattern, before he bowed his head. “Hari, the Red Serpent, shall face you.”
“What a cool name,” Adam replied. “I’m Chief Executive Officer Adam.” He raised his axe. “Let’s go.”
<em>Battle Order</em>
<em>D20 + 1 = 20 (19)</em>
<em>Fighting Spirit: 3 -> 2</em>
<em>Attack - Battleaxe</em>
<em>D20 + 8 = 14 (6)</em>
<em>D20 + 8 = 25 (17)</em>
<em>Hit!</em>
<em>Mana: 21 -> 20</em>
<em>Ability: Divine Smite</em>
<em>1D6 + 1D3 + 2D6 + 7 = 19 (2)(3)(3, 4)</em>
<em>19 damage!</em>
<em>Attack - Battleaxe</em>
<em>D20 + 8 = 10 (2)</em>
<em>D20 + 8 = 18 (10)</em>
<em>Hit!</em>
<em>Mana: 20 -> 19</em>
<em>Ability: Divine Smite</em>
<em>1D6 + 1D3 + 2D6 + 7 = 25 (5)(2)(5, 6)</em>
<em>25 damage!</em>
Adam shot forward as Hari prepared himself to face Adam’s assault. Hari brought up both scimitars up, catching Adam’s blow, though he was forced back as the divine magic rippled through his body. He coughed up in pain as Adam’s heavy blows managed to bypass his block, and almost threatened to break his ligaments.
“Mercy, Executive Adam,” the Aswadian cried, inhaling deeply as he darted around the Half Elf, but was unable to slip through the chinks in his armour. ‘I don’t have much time.’ The Aswadian ducked under an axe blow, and though his scimitar would have slipped through any other, Adam was a walking fortress with his puthral te mail and strong shield.
Defence: 24
Such a Defence was only rivalled by the toughest of creatures, and as Jurot had said once before, even the great Urkina, a Dragon Turtle, would envy the Half Elf.
‘Curses upon your father and his father before him!’ Hari thought, unable to prate Adam’s armour.
<em>Fighting Spirit: 2 -> 1</em>
<em>Attack - Battleaxe</em>
<em>D20 + 8 = 11 (3)</em>
<em>D20 + 8 = 15 (7)</em>
<em>Miss!</em>
<em>Attack - Battleaxe</em>
<em>D20 + 8 = 11 (3)</em>
<em>D20 + 8 = 27 (19)</em>
<em>Critical hit!</em>
<em>Mana: 19 -> 18</em>
<em>Ability: Divine Smite</em>
<em>2D6 + 2D3 + 4D6 + 7 = 37 (3, 4)(3, 3)(1, 4, 6, 6)</em>
<em>37 damage!</em>
Adam inhaled deeply, watching as Hari stepped back, putting some distance between them. Adam stepped forward, and Hari dashed towards the Half Elf, one scimitar aiming to block Adam’s axe, and the other aiming for Adam’s neck.
Unfortunately for the Aswadian, Adam pulled up his shield just in time, before forcing his way through the scimitar, almost breaking the steel, before managing to contact the Aswadian’s chest, the metal disc denting as the divine magic shed.
“Argh!” the Aswadian cried, before crumpling to the ground, his eyes white as he fell unconscious.
“Good fight,” Adam said, cing Strong Shield away. He looked to the worker. “Are you going to deal with him?”
“Yes.”
“Good stuff.” Adam half saluted the worker, before heading out. ‘That was easy.’
<em>Victory!</em>
<em>XP Gained: +400</em>
<em>XP: 10 600 -> 11 000</em>
‘Was he really worth so much XP?’ Adam thought, almost walking into someone. Adam tensed up, before noting the lithe Kitool at his side. “What’s with you Iyrmen and always sneaking up to me?”
“It was a good fight,” Kitool said.
“Yeah, it was,” Adam replied. “What are you doing here?”
“I did not want you to get into trouble.”
“You can trust me alone, Kitool.” Adam chuckled. He stopped chuckling noting Kitool’s silence. “I can’t believe you’ve done this. I’ll have you know, I’m very good at keeping out of trouble when I want to.”
The group watched the fights, and aste afternoon approached, the group made their way out of the arena.
“Vonda, would youe with me to the market?” Adam asked.
Vonda smiled. “Of course.”
Adam explored the market with Vonda in order to find a particr set of items. Upon finding them, Adam spent his gold, and ced them into his bank.
‘Did I charge Phantomst night? I think so…’
<em>Omen: 11, 15</em>
In the morning, the group approached the arena, which was bustling with greater life. ‘Whoa. It’s so much louder now.’
“You there, halt at once!”
Adam stopped, narrowing his eyes. ‘It can’t be.’ He stared at the guard pointing at him. She wore breastte with the markings of the city guard, and she held the hilt of her de with one hand.
“Yes?” Adam replied, growing tense.
“You’re under arrest for suspicion of murder.”
Adam blinked. “You what?”
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Try not to get into trouble challenge!!! (IMPOSSIBLE EDITION)!!!