The words that Rayse spoke offered only cursory reassurance that Storm wasn’t dead or in some dream. In a dream, the electromancer wagered, Valentino would be more articulate than this; the natural disposition and genuine lack of finesse that the brutish fire mage offered was simply too preposterous to fake. For his lack in linguistics, Rayse was still far from stupid, and seemed to have some passable knowledge of their situation. Their location seemed logical enough.
Lornius… let’s see what all the goddamned fuss is about.
For all of his travels, Storm Veritas had never been to Lornius. Here, it appeared that they had been transferred, like captured animals set to be supplanted into synthetic habitats. They were definitely being screwed with, but the experienced wizard surmised that they were not in a position for negotiations. He was grateful to be on the sunny side of terra firma, and would do what needed to be done to stay there.
“Whatever you say. Whoever he was took my good shit from me; no more cash, whiskey, or tobacco. WHAT A DICK. I still have my knives, which can’t be a coincidence.”
Were you brought here to fight Rayse? Why? Premium gladiators, perhaps?
Either way, don’t even think about it, it’s f*cking suicide. You’ve seen his speed, and you can smell the fire from here. Would be like shoveling sand against the sea.
Storm’s voice lowered to a whisper, although he wasn’t certain that his words would go unheard to whoever dropped him into this charade. “Stay together, stay alive. Try not to show your whole bag of tricks right away…”
The intimation wasn’t direct, but Valentino would no doubt understand Storm’s intention of unleashing the full wrath only upon the Puppeteer. For now, he was on strings, and would dance in accordance. The stage was certainly dramatic, as he was greeted by a dull buzzing sound that had begun to grow.
Seriously, do they contract this shit out? How does this get made?
“No fucking way. They’re fucking with us. With me.” Rayse’s words were a mix of disbelief and anger.
With Valentino by his side, Storm carefully scanned his surroundings as he stepped into the massive arena. Their chamber behind them appeared as one perfect stone in a gargantuan ring of stacked stones, perhaps two hundred meters in diameter. Black paint framed the doorway, as striking religious marks were hand drawn upon the walls. A massive crowd was assembled above and behind the walls, the roar growing ever louder as the two magicians emerged into view.
The ceiling reminded him of a great gothic church in Radasanth, only far larger, and some thirty meters in height. A steady, thin white plume of smoke rose high towards the center of the smooth domed ceiling, escaping through a tiny porthole that seemed altogether impossible. Beneath them, the familiar rebound of hard, smooth stone greeted his shod feet, leading downwards from the perimeter towards a blazing, obscene white fire within this bizarre hallucinatory edifice.
Reminds me of that story Rayse told me about Lornius, two bottles deep in rum on the top of the bar in Lounton. Hadn’t he spoken of a place -just- like this, with some other folks?
What felt like sunlight on his face disappeared to blackness, and a deafening, primal crowd’s roar briefly drowned out any rational thought. It ceased after a few seconds, as three spotlights erupted, blinding from the black. One spotlighted blasted its white fury upon Rayse and Storm, a second upon strangers at the opposite end of the arena, and the third above them.
A voice boomed from above them from the third location of concentrated light. Two large men stood upon a floating pedestal, high above the wizards and clearly protected by some finely crafted magic shield, which shone as a soft yellow bubble about the entire platform which held them.
”WELCOME TO PARADISE, TRAVELERS.
YOUR PATH HAS BROUGHT YOU TO REST IN LORNIUS. “
Another roar of applause, and the beam shone more brightly on the tandem opposite Storm. A second voice crackled above them.
”On my right, a man of fire and fury, the mighty William Arcus, known to many as ‘The Revenant’. With him, the Great Changer, the man of Many Names… ‘Talen Shadowalker!!!’”
Arcus. That was the name of the man Rayse mentioned. That rum was shit, must not have hit me as hard as I thought.
So they both have been here? And I’m what… side dish for the entrees?
A great explosion of applause and cheer surrounded the arena, as many had apparently bet heavily on what was apparently the opponent picked for Storm and Rayse. Veritas squinted to oppose the spike in light that came with a spotlight’s focus, shielding the incoming light with a hand in a gesture that may have resembled a wave.
”On my left, we have wizards of multiple forms. A master of electricity, known for both bolts AND blades, ‘Storm Veritas’! Not to be outdone, he is joined by the notorious master of all things fire-borne, ‘Rayse Valentino’!”
F*cking weak! He didn’t mention Serenti, the Adventurer’s Cup, the Dragons… what a hack.
Another round of applause ignored Storm’s internal complaints; the spotlights faded as the artificial sunlight reclaimed its warm hold over the arena. The buzz in the room was tangible, although the electromancer still had no tangible idea as to how or why he had been chosen for this gladiatorial display.
Before any escape plan could be hatched, the first, booming voice once again dominated the arena.
TWO OF YOU SHALL BE CROWNED CHAMPIONS.
TWO OF YOU SHALL BE BURIED.
WALK AMONGST THE GODS.
The final eruption of applause almost completely hid the otherwise deafening gong sound which screamed across the arena, marking the beginning of the end.