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The demoness came ru
"So!" Eric and I said in unison.
Apparently, the guests loved the tame inferno creature. We removed and counted the medals: thirty-two in total. But we left her the flowers and ribbons which hopefully made her look i
I got my number and was waiting for the draw to start. In the meantime, Eric was lecturing me on the tournament rules.
"You can't use scrolls, elixirs or other people's buffs. There's a ten grand limit on gear. If you die in the arena, you'll respawn right here. Don't worry, we won't send you all the way to your bind point. Judging by the amount of applications, the wi
Finally they a
"Eric? How's the betting going?"
"It's not. No one's betting on you."
Shame. But I wasn't counting on it, anyway.
We entered the arena. The ref cast a Magic Nullifier and started the timer. We were given one minute of rebuffing and meditation which I used to cast a few buffs over the demoness. The enchanter, on the contrary, was trying too hard, casting all sorts of magic right until the time ran out. I had a fu
It was all over in 26 seconds. I hadn't expected him to last that long. In the end, I had to root him to the ground.
Congratulations! You've won 1/16 of the East Castle Guest Tournament!
50 points Fame received!
Aha. Now I could see the logic behind all those low-level entries. The applicants hoped to do a round or two and get their share of freebie fame points.
Eric had definitely warmed to his role as my second. He fa
The second fight was equally easy. All the more reason to act it out, wearing a struggling expression, brandishing my sword without really hitting very much, casting DoTs and generally enjoying myself. The level 50 cleric had lasted all of six minutes, having restored his health 100% four times in that period. But still, a healer is no killer; he didn't have a chance against me, especially considering his hard-to-level pattern of a group and raid cleric.
Congratulations! You've won 1/8 of the East Castle Guest Tournament!
100 points Fame received!
Before engaging in that second fight, I had asked Eric about my betting chances. This time there had been a few bets placed.
"Four to one on," he'd said.
"Which means? If I bet four hundred and I win, I get five hundred back, is that right?"
"Precisely."
I'd given it a thought and decided to wage every available pe
"Here," I said, "I've got eight hundred gold. Can you place a bet for me, please? An extra two hundred never hurt."
He studied me. "You sure?"
"Absolutely."
"Then I might do the same. Don't let us down, bud."
Now that I'd won, he slapped my shoulders, overjoyed, while I tried to avoid his fists from denting my armor.
"Easy money, bud. Five hundred, that's a windfall. Way to go! Who's next?"
He spoke too soon. The theory of chance put me up against one of the favorites: a level 63 warrior in expensive gear. A sword in each hand, he was a perfect damage dealer. And now, judging by his PvP armor, he was prepared to take on another player. Engaging him in close combat wasn't a good idea. I only needed to know who he thought me to be. If he believed me to be a knight, then he had to have plenty of armor and hit buffs. But if he had taken me for a mage, he had to wear some magic-resisting gear. Me, on the contrary, I was wearing my full combat kit I could use to face any emergency.
"What are the stakes?"
"Seven to one on."
I didn't need to ask more. "Bet two hundred for me. In the worst-case scenario I get to keep it."
Eric scratched his mop of hair. "Okay, you've talked me into it. I'll stake five hundred on you, too. Make sure you don't go down."
When I stepped out into the arena, I had an eerie feeling of déjà vu. It had all happened before. Either I used to be a gladiator in my past life or it was a flashback from a recently seen movie. The sun stood high at its zenith—no good trying to manipulate my opponent to face it. The stands hummed, discussing the just-finished fight in the second arena. Taali sat there, pale, anxious and close-lipped. A fellow paladin, she understood my chances well.
The warrior was good. The judges lingered, discussing some problems with the cost of his gear. Finally, the warrior got fed up. He pulled off a few rings and threw them to his partner. I tensed up, challenged by his defiant confidence. Just you wait, pompous bastard.
"One minute to go," the ref a
The warrior didn't move. I, on the contrary, had to work fast. I used the first thirty seconds to cast every buff I could think of over the demoness. Then I got both my shields out and slumped into the arena for a meditation blitz hoping for at least a hundred extra mana. As I warmed my backside in the hot sand, I summoned Teddy. The warrior's eyes squinted to a slit. You didn't expect that, did you?
The bell rang. The warrior charged. Jumping up, I sent both my pets to intercept him while I cast Deadman's Hand hoping to keep him at some distance. Ignoring my pets, he covered fifty feet in two seconds. No way we could stop him. Showered with double-handed hits, I cast the spell three more times. At least the shields absorbed them allowing me to stay concentrated. Seven seconds, minus both shields. The bastard had already dealt me 800 damage. Either he'd figured me out or he was a natural DpS.
Finally, my fourth spell got to him. I ran aside, trying to increase the distance, then cast three more DoTs. Only two worked. My i
I cast Deadman's Hand three times—finishing the last one as I faced the lunging warrior, my pets pounding his back. I'd done it. Now he was rooted to the ground in the center of the arena. My reaction times halved. I cast three heals over Teddy before turning back to the warrior. Three DoTs. Deadman's Hand. The warrior was at 40%, my mana at 30%. I didn't want to use Life Absorption: it wouldn't be too productive at the current mana-to-damage ratio. I had to play for time. I healed the demoness again and cast some more DoTs. Now I was almost empty. I had to use mana to immobilize the warrior. He at 10, the demoness at 10, mana at 0. Teddy was fit and healthy. The warrior shouldn't have ignored him, but ignore him he did. I exposed myself, engaging in close combat. That did the trick. Fed up with banging his head against a fire wall, the warrior was tempted with an easy win. He went for me.