MELEE

by Paul E. Roosa

This month sees the release of RI's newest game FANTASY GLADIATORS. Once again Paul Roosa takes us into the arena.--JW

Act I

Boshtai produced a spell of Ethereal Staircase and quickly climbed the phantom steps as a bevy of arrows careened off the cobblestones where he last trod. Pausing, he held the spell so as to look down mockingly at the halfling who released the arrows.

The halfling Bungle was not willing to await Boshtai's next incantation, and thought it wise to retreat before the spellcaster hurled his wicked vengence. The remains of marble pillars dot the arena, and the closest proved adequate cover as Bungle dashed behind it. He took another arrow from its quiver and shakily notched it to its bow.

Boshtai remained atop his lofty perch and with his chin resting upon his hand, ran through his repertoire of spells. Surely, he thought, he had one that shattered marble.

The air stirred around the spellcaster. As if from nowhere a bone breaking kick to the ribs shook all thoughts from Boshtais' mind, shattering his spell and sending him earthward to the arena, dashing his head on the stone.

Landing panther-like, the Martial Artist crouched above the Wizard and prepared to strike a killing blow, only to see life bleeding crimson from Boshtais' shattered skull. A blue vapor rose up from the gaping wound as a lifetime of spells wound their way skyward, swirling back to the ether.

Gen-Gin cringed and moved himself away from the vapors. A wizard gives up part of himself in exchange for obtaining the arcane skills, but GenGin wasn't about to part with any of his being just yet. Gesturing a sign of protection about himself, the Martial Artist padded away from the corpse as silently as he had struck. Off to search for his next adversary, (and the means to the next Celestial Level).

While elsewhere, a large green behemoth, his head tilted back, slowly sniffs at the air. Strange odors make themselves known to the orc "Called "Breaker," and he knows his quarry is near. Tightening his grip around the mace on which he draws his name, the orc lopes off, following the sent like wolf to sheep.

"Mmmmm ... sheep," thinks the stalking brute hungerly, spittle glistening on his chin as he openly salivates.

Act II

From his vantage point atop the centered ruins, Drullar the fighter crouched low and assessed the situation thus far. Six had entered the arena simultaneously, all from seperate gates. All in opposition with no allies.

The craven halfling was first to strike, sending his arrows from behind the spellcasters back. But Boshtai, using an escape spell, magically avoided the shafts only to perish from the savage strike of the Martial Artist. The orc being short of sight, chose to wait at the arenas edge until his opponents were in range of his other senses, then he entered further. And then there's the dwarf.

Just where did the dwarf get to?

Drullar made little sound as he leaped from the ruined lookout and landed on the stone below. With his left hand he gripped the leather straps of his buckler and with his right brought out his stabbing spear. Bring them on! Thought the fighter.

Act III

Gen-Gin struggled in vain to remove the shaft embedded in the back of his thigh. Blood ran freely from the wound making the arrow slip from his grasp. A dagger in his left hand, he held back the halfling, who quite happy with his sneak attack, prepared another arrow to finish his foe.

But there is a distinct difference between sneaking up behind an opponent and a full frontal attack. Bungle not used to having the upper hand, ventures in a little too close to the left hand of Gen-Gin.

In a flash the halfling passes from this world into the next.

Then there were four ...

Act IV

Three closed in on each other until the smell of sweat mixed with fear almost overpowers the reeking sent of the towering orc.

Drullar, Gen-Gin and "Called Breaker" formed a loose triangle and size up each other. The orc looking very relaxed, taps the end of his mace rhythmically against the palm of his left hand.

To the fighter and Martial Artist there seemed to be limited options.

Each knowing they could not single handedly defeat the orc, a silent pact is signed with a nervous nod and a twitch of acknowledgment. They would team up and hopefully one would come out in this with all his limbs attached. Gen-Gin still troubled by his previous encounter, limped to the left of the orc in an attempt to encircle the brute. In sheer strength the orc out muscled both his opponents combined, but GenGin knows the ancient arts of unarmed combat. One blow could disable or bring about death.

While Drullar tries the head on approach. Spear and buckler firmly in hands, forward he goes. If he can't slay the beast, he thinks, he can distract its attention away from the Martial Artist.

As all this is happening the orc takes to swinging his mace around himself in a figure eight keeping Drullar at bay. As it swings through the air it begins to hum. First high, then low, the hum changes and becomes a melody, a quaint little orc shanty about grinding bones and spilling blood.

This strange custom orcs use in battle, is well known to Drullar and he is not swayed by the tune. Instead he starts paying attention to the rhythm. Matching his reflexes to the tempo, he finds a pause in the orcs melody and lunges forward with his spear and pierces the orcs flesh!

The music stops and is replaced with a bone chilling howl. Drullar holds his buckler firmly and shields himself from the inevitable onslaught. The orc brings his mace around and crushes the tiny shield like it's made of paper, crushing the hand in the process.

Drullar crumbles to the ground, astounded at the red pudding that was his left hand, and Gen-Gin chooses this moment to strike. With his fist clenched in the arc of the crescent moon, he lands a devastating chop just inside the lower skull area of the great orc.

All is silent as the orc "Called Breaker" turns to face the annoyance behind him. Too lame to run, and knowing that "The arc of the Crescent Moon", initiated in such a way would have felled a camel, Gen-Gin begins to give homage to his ancestors in prayer, a prayer that is given an exclamation point with the thud of a studded mace.

It is almost done, thinks the orc, who casually finishes off Drullar with a downward swing of his bloodied weapon. Still in shock, the fighter feels little pain.

Act V

The spectators rise to their feet and a roar fills the arena. The "Called Breaker" Parades the grounds victorious, his arms and legs stained with oppo- nents now forgotten. Unsheathing his dagger the orc prepares to remove the trophies of victory from the shoulders of his victims, but instead stops this movement, a look of puzzlement smeared across his face suddenly pale.

All goes silent among the gallery.

And to all it becomes apparent the whereabouts of the dwarf called Haxell, now standing behind the orc, holding onto the polearm embedded in the beast's vital organs.

Apparent to all but the orc, who in all his stolen glory, can do naught but drop his head chestward and fall to his knees, his innards spilling onto the stone.

Haxell plants his foot firmly against the orc's back and withdraws his weapon. The crowd whispers and murmurs, "Where did he get to?", "How did he just appear?". All are perplexed and chaner amongst themselves. None realizing the simple truth of the matter. None realizing that a dwarf, being born a fighter, can also choose a profession.

From this day forward the dwarf will now be known as, "Haskell, The Fighter-Spellcaster ... Master of the Invisibility Spell!"

This article appears in MagWeb (Magazine Web) on the Internet World Wide Web.
Other military history articles and gaming articles are available at http://www.magweb.com