This project and indulgence into the setting is something that Ive been wanting to put together when not doing other Mage Wars stuff. So, heres the first part in an ongoing bit of writing. Its pretty long form, so theres that.
Also, bringing it over to the board mixed up the formatting a little… so theres a few spacing and indention issues. Otherwise, hope you dig it.
Arena Tales: #1 Crowning Achievements
The roar of the crowd could be felt past the great wood and iron barred doors that lead from the underground tunnel into the area battleground. The stomps and shouts of the masses were made palpable by a pulse in the stone walls. Two armored figures waited quietly in the wings for the massive doors to open and usher them to a magnificent entrance. The trembles in the passageway echoed the crowds’ demand to see the Arraxian Crown’s champion.
“Tyrn! Tyrn! Tyrn!” came the muffled chant from above.
A flamboyant display of smoke and lightning dazzled the arena quieting the rumble. Winds whipped colorful mists away from the center of the stadium, revealing Xol Magnus, Grand Herald of The Arena. He gestured dramatically with his hands, and another shout went up from the audience. When he was satisfied that they had reached the height of anticipation, he began the processions.
“Patrons of The Great Arena of Victoria!” The magic of the arena carried the flashy grand-stander’s voice booming out over the din.
“You have witnessed four bouts tonight. Honor has been claimed, shame and humiliation have been heaped upon the unworthy. But now….” Xol paused a moment tasting the silence, and smiled. “For the main event! It is my grim duty to announce… a battle... to the death!“
Again the roar went out for their champion. “Tyrn! Tyrn! Tyrn!”
Slowly he raised his hands and gestured for the crowd to quiet once again, and only after they had complied did he continue. “Not only is it this evening’s first death battle, but our honor is doubled as it is a team duel!” Another cheer. “It is my honor and privilege to first present to you, entering from the Eastern Gate, Representing Sortilege...”
At Xol’s indication, the Sunrise gate swung open with a heavy thud. Two figures strode forward; their facade and raiment marked them as elves of Sortilege. The first to appear had harsh, wizened, features and wore robes decorated with a large array of arcane trinkets and totems. Behind him followed a younger, but no less determined looking wizard, his adornments were fewer than his companion and his features less marked by age. When the first stopped, the second stopped as well.
“Coming to you all the way from Imun-An, the Eighth Tower, here for your judgement tonight stands a Master of the Voltaric order, Desir Arashad, Assayer of The Ardent Way! ...and accompanying him, his first and most exemplary student, Disciple of the Ardent Way, you’ve seen him before, Peragho Kacia! Pay the respect due to them who ply the power of the forbidden!”
The two Wizards stood without acknowledgement of the mixture of cheers and boos hurled toward them. Arashad gripped his staff in one hand, the other gave his long beard a slow habitual stroke as he took mental stock of his agenda and equipment. Peragho slightly behind and to his right, his mouth was pressed into a line and there was tightness in his eyes. The younger elf had made numerous good shows in The Arena, but this was his first main event appearance and only his second death match.
Arashad turned and nodded at rune inscribed medallion hanging from Peragho’s neck.
“Remember my instructions and guard that well, for it may mean your life, and mine if you do not.” He said sternly, before turning to face the opposing gate.
“And at the Western end of the Arena...” Xol announced, with mixture of dread and awe in his voice, “He is the wielder of the mighty Sectarus, the might of Gar’zal, Undefeated in a hundred battles, THE champion of the Arraxian Crown...” The Sunset Gate was thrown open with his gesture and the crowd exploded into a cacophony as a heavily armored warlock, all in black, strode into view. “The man known only as Tyrn!”
The herald let the the crowd regale the stoic figure for a few moments, before continuing on. Tyrn’s only response was a hard clank of his gauntlet into his chest, unleashing an eerie ring throughout the arena. The other warlock paced up a few steps behind Tyrn and stopped.
“At Tyrn’s side for this match, also fighting on behalf of the Arraxian Crown, Dane Azuregale!”
The cheers dropped sharply to more of a token rumble. Dane raised a gauntlet in a half hearted wave to meet the half hearted response. He was used to not being a celebrity attraction, be he had never had to share the arena with someone who eclipsed his presence so profoundly.
“Fantastic.” He murmured to himself.
Tyrn turned to Dane, his face was obscured by an ornately masked helmet and his voice seemed to echo from all around with each commanding word. ”Dispatch the apprentice. This fight is between me, and that Wizard!”
He unsheathed Sectarus and brandished the twisted chaotically shaped black blade and pointed its edge directly at Arashad without turning to face him. The crowd chanted his name again.
“I am here to send a message to Sortilege.” With that Tyrn turned on his heel away from the lower ranked Warlock and faced his opponent.
Xol gave a look to each corner. “Do all the gladiators understand the terms and stakes of this battle?”
All four mages shouted in unison, “Aye!”
“Then under the Mage Wars Accord, this battle is hereby commenced!” With that, the Grand Herald vanished in another flash of light and smoke.
The battle began with a rage of lightning and fire. Vollies of destructive spells sizzled in the air as the combatants moved to secure positions in the arena. Tyrn was atop of Arashad faster than the Wizard had anticipated. He narrowly managed to cast a shield about himself an instant before Sectarus was hammering him. The old elf patiently absorbed it’s blows, letting Tyrn work himself into a frenzy.
Peragho angled for Dane, but upon seeing the vicious assault unleashed by Tyrn, tried to turn aside to assist his mentor. As he did so, the ground around his feet burst into flames. The elf shielded his face as the flames quickly grew into an obscuring wall of heat and pain. Dane vaulted though the fiery barrier and rained dark magics onto the apprentice Wizard. Peragho retched at cold blades inside his belly as the spells coursed through him. He collected himself and reached out extending his will and halting Dane’s leap with a clenching fist. He slammed the Warlock into the ground with a yank of his outstretched hand.
On the other side of the inferno, Arashad barely kept a step ahead of Tyrn, the murderous beast drove at him again and again with his savage blade and hellish magic. The Arraxian champion pressed on relentlessly after each the Wizard’s tricks, brushing them aside with little effort. Arashad would vanish out of the Warlocks reach, blast arcane bolts and lead Tyrn on again and again, biding his time and stirring Tyrn’s anger. The Arraxian was performing right on cue, and exactly as he knew he would; all the research was paying off. When the Wizard slipped away once again, Tyrn stopped and thrust Sectarus into the ground with a grunt. Dark flames erupted from the blade spitting out of it and tracing a circle in the floor of the arena, culminating in a five pointed star in its middle; as the flames met at their center, there bellowed forth an unnatural howl. With a wrenching motion, he heaved on invisible chains, and a purple and black hole opened where the pentagram once was and Demons of Infernia began to crawl out of the dark portal. Tyrn incensed, leaped ahead of them, charging with a new fury as more of the hellish denizens clawed their way up and into the Arena.
Another roar echoed the howls of hell, and Dane lept back through his own flaming barrier with the massive form of a Darkfenne Hydra snapping hungrily at his heels. Peragho gasped and clutched his chest, the hydra would buy enough time for him to purge the dark magic tormenting his body. Dane, regrouped, braced himself and produced his sword and fire lash.
“Alright. We’re doing this...” He murmured with a resolute huff.
The hydra’s middle head lunged and he swatted it back, cracking his burning lash. The second maw grasped for him, but his blade met the stalwart bite and drove it aside. Dane smiled as the beast started to cower away, but the smile melted into scowl as three demons leapt from behind him clawing and biting wildly at the great beast.
"Fair enough." He shook off the annoyance and dashed away from the hydra to hunt the young Wizard.
Nearby, ground from the area ripped up by magic tendrils rained down into the first wave of demons to make it out of Tyrn's portal, as the elder Wizard gestured with an unnatural grace, his eyes blazing blue with Voltaric energies. Tyrn leapt over the wrecked and broken ground and landed in front of the old Wizard, growling with sword in hand. The elf quickly moved his hands to begin another spell, but the savage Warlock like landed his blow. Sectarus plunged into the Wizard’s body and Arashad clenched his jaw and held back a scream. He slammed his staff into the ground to finishing the spell with a flash of blue. He slumped to the ground as a pair of small imps pounced onto his fallen form and began to tear at it. Arashad struggled with them as Tyrn slashed deep into his thigh and a gout of blood spewed onto the area floor hot and wet.
The demons stopped their clawing as the wizard faded into darkness. Tyrn stood shaken for a moment, the crowd was wild, shouting his name again and again. He dropped Sectarus to the ground and fell to his knees, he grabbed onto his helmet and seemed to struggle with himself.. The imps looked around confusedly. Arashads eyes opened again.
“No!” Gasped Arashad’s voice. His pale face was locked in a show of panic and confusion. “How is this...” His bewildered question was cut short by a harsh cough of blood.
“Tell me, great one....” Spoke the armored figure as he lifted the broken, aged body by the neck. “Were you prepared for such a change in perspective?” Blue eyes glowed in the dark beneath the Warlock’s visor.
The Wizard clung to life as long as he could, his struggles ceased, but his mouth formed a determined line, and he clenched his jaw again and again. The now active amulets on his body were pulsing with blue light, preventing his spells and draining his mana. His hands worked, but nothing happened. Blood drained unceasingly from gaping wounds in his abdomen and thigh...he was going to die in the Arashad's trap.
“Arraxian fool.” Tyrn’s voice growled out of the mask. “I’ve watched you in this arena time and time again. So reckless with your essence, exposing yourself to Infernia for power, and now.. to me.”
Tyrn’s spiteful soul burned inside the Wizard’s body. He looked at the demons standing by and the pulsing pentagram. Then a baleful smile crossed his lips. Using the final breath in his dying form, Tyrn managed to gasp out his last words.
“You have my body, but I wagered my soul.” He looked to the demons. “I forfeit my pacts.”
The demons’ faces twisted into grins and their howls of demonic delight screeched and cackled from saw-toothed lips. No longer bound by Tyrn’s will or pacts, they were free to ravage with reckless abandon. For them, it was time to feast. Arashad’s body fell limp as Tyrn’s soul was wrenched out by the dark gods to satisfy the forfeited debt. The pentagram sealed with a burst of purple flame and faded away, with the sound of an ominous metal gate crashing shut as it vanished.
Arashad found himself assailed by Tyrn’s allies gone mad, and did his best to fend off the imps and demons with his shield spells. The dark armor suddenly felt heavier, the raw power in his body diminished as the portal closed. He had not foreseen this outcome, a stupid arrogant error, but only a set back, his scheme was not finished yet. So long as Peragho was keeping up, things would work out ideally.
A scream across the arena grabbed his attention.
“Peragho!”
The audience unaware of what was transpiring, simply roared for Tyrn’s apparent kill and soon his victory. Peragho and Dane were locked in mortal struggle and just as oblivious.
Moments before Tyrn’s fall, on the other side of the raging wall of fire, the younger mages struggled on, both the worse for wear. Dane’s greater experience, and aid from Tyrn’s demons had given him the edge however. The Hydra lay dead, covered in charred bites and claw marks with one of its heads missing from the field of battle.
Peragho was cornered and his eyes frantically searched, thinking, calculating, he needed options. He had spent himself too quickly with the Hydra, the mana drawn for a creature of that size was too great, but he had needed time and hadn’t accounted for the hellions. The Warlock’s fire lash crashed into the his body again and again, he stumbled and leapt away trying to buy time. The Warlock was too focused to realize that the demons had stopped participating and simply watched. Peragho sprang aside trying to put himself behind the dead Hydra for cover, but the lash whipped his neck and flung him to the ground with a burning, choking yank. In an instant the Warlock Azuregale leapt forward; dreamily he watched the smooth dark blade sink deep into his chest. Peragho took one ragged gasping breath, and lay still.
Dane, sure that his enemy had expired, gave a nod of respect and saluted the young elf before he turned to the imps and hellions.
“Not bad, boys.” He said with a wry smile, catching his breath. “Appreciate the help.”
The infernals grinned back, then pounced him. He gave a surprised scream as he stumbled to raise his defenses against them. His weapons dropped to the arena as he fell back completely off guard. Dane only had his heavy gauntlets to bash at his one time allies. As Dane punched and clawed at a hellish beast, suddenly Arashad wearing Tyrn's form leapt through the flame wall, alerted by the lesser Warlock's scream.
Arashad landed with booted feet crunching on the ground, and with a lament as he saw the body of Peragho dead by his lifeless hydra. He let forth an arcane blast in rage, which hit the Warlock full force in the back and bowled him over. Azuregale yowled with the pain of the assault, all the while trying to keep an imp from clawing his eyes out.
“What are you doing?!” Dane shouted with surprise, and creeping fear as he rolled and bashed at the imp..
Before Tyrn could continue his attack, a demon leapt onto his back from behind and began tearing at him. Dane used the opportunity to throw himself back through his flaming barrier again, kicking free of the sturdy imp harassing him and it’s companions. He looked around for Xol, confounded as to why the match still had not ended. They had won, but Tyrn hadn’t singled the victory incantation?
