Two of Knaves chapter 104

Hey everyone! Here's the next advance chapter of Two of Knaves, where Darcent and Annalisa get a second round against the delvers that betrayed them in the undercity.

Chapter 104 - Tactical Acquisitions

The stands erupted with shouts and chaos as the lights dimmed and the booming voice of the commentator—enhanced by magic artifice—choked off. Also the fact that the entire arena had turned black and white like a pictograph from Madam Peaks’. Cel froze as I dashed in—understandable. You don’t typically expect the guy in mages robes to charge at you with the business-end of a blade.

About the time I closed half the distance, Cel realized his wand wasn’t coming back and dropped it to grope for a knife at his belt. Too slow. A half-dozen sprinted steps carried me within range, and I drove the dagger forward, just barely missing as the lithe elf threw himself to the side. I refreshed the grip on my knife, surprised to see the eye in the hilt open and glaring. All other magic had been silenced, so I had assumed the dagger as well would be affected. But this didn’t seem to be the case. It tugged my hand toward the elf, and I leaned into its pull.

Elf-seeking knife or no, Cel didn’t fancy being stabbed. He raised his own knife defensively, which just goes to show he didn’t know that there is no defense in a knife-on-knife fight. But rather than driving my dagger into his gut, I flicked it at the last second and separated the cord binding the silver chain to his arm. The links flashed as they unwound, and I caught the end and pulled it off the elf’s hand, coil by coil. I retreated, swinging it around until it wrapped my own wrist.

Cel met my eyes, and flicked his attention to his own, now naked wrist, and back to me. A mixture of shock and anger played silently across his face before he mustered his balls and threw himself at me. I kicked the ground, throwing up a cloud of ash between us, and then got out of the way. Cel came barreling through, knife slashing across what would have been my throat a moment before. I switched the blade around and drove my pommel into the back of his head. The elf collapsed in a heap.

I glanced up at the crowd, who surged, shouting at each other and shaking fists. Even if I couldn’t hear them, I knew what they were trying to say. This isn’t what we paid to see. Well, bully for them. I took a quick bow, which actually got a few of them fist-fighting each other to be the one to storm the arena before the Lucitan paladins took over, themselves silenced and robbed of their divine magics. Ignoring then, I turned my attention to Annalisa, who had, to my amazement, not fared nearly as well as I.

I suppose I should have anticipated it. Annalisa’s martial prowess was heavily bolstered by her connections to the elemental plains. Obsidian reinforced the skin of her hands and arms, but silencing the area had severed her link to the stone. She still had her devilborn dexterity and hellishly quick reflexes, but Volian had a spear with five feet of reach and a metal blade at the end which had lost none of its sharpness when its enchantment was quelled. It was all my partner could do to avoid its cutting edge and prodding tip in the hands of a skilled dungeon delver.

I ran in from the side as the man drew back the haft for a vicious lunge, throwing my weight against him. It was like trying to tackle a stone pillar, and I all but bounced off him. But I threw off his aim enough for Annalisa to close in and put a fist into his nose. Volian’s head rocked back, squirting blood, and then he twisted and swung it forward, smashing his forehead into my own face. White-hot pain flooded my world—but it was nothing compared to getting kicked in the stones, which is what he did to me next.

I went down into the ash, writhing in pain. But now my pitfighter partner was inside the range of his spear, and he was forced to get the haft between them to fend her off, swinging the butt-cap like a quarterstaff. Muscle memory caused Annalisa to raise her own arm to block it, but without the obsidian reinforcing her, her guard collapsed, and she took a nasty blow to the side of the head.

Fighting through the pain, I wheeled back and kicked my boot into the side of Volian’s knee, buckling it. The delver opened his mouth in a silent scream and planted his spear to keep his balance. Annalisa, not one to waste an opportunity despite the blood streaming from her temple, leapt up and brought her elbow down on the top of Volian’s head. The fighter dropped to his knees, which was close enough for me to put the next boot against his cheek.

Volian joined me on the ground, discombobulated, but far from defeated. Annalisa looked at me where I struggled to quelch the nausea bubbling in my gut. I wiggled my fingers at her and pointed. Annalisa’s eyes lit up, and she dropped to a low stance, shooting forward. Vol raised his fists against the impending blows, but my partner’s deft fingers undid the clasps and stripped the plated gauntlets from his wrists so quick that even my keen eyes couldn’t quite follow her movements.

I managed to get to my hands and knees, despite the lightning lancing between my legs. The rush of blood in my ears was also being joined by the dull, aching roar of a distant crowd, and some color was coming back into the world. I reached out, faintly feeling the wills, but not strongly enough to summon my cards.

The delver got to his feet, face red—and not just from where I’d hit him with my boot. Blood streamed from his nose, down into his beard and stained his grit teeth. He brought his spear around, whipping it overhead and down in a vicious arc that would about slice me in half—if Annalisa hadn’t gotten there and blocked it with a gauntlet wrapped around her hand like a brass knuckle. The metal turned red-hot where it contacted Vol’s spear haft. Its enchantment was coming back. Vol’s eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open in a muffled “argh!” of shock. He dropped the spear, which was also glowing red where his hands had clasped it. He looked at Annalisa wearing his gauntlets, and to me with the silver chain wrapped around my wrist and his partner unconscious on the ash. I climbed to my feet and hefted my dagger as Vol backed away.

Together, Annalisa and I advanced. Vol drew his short sword as his eyes darted around for any avenue of escape but again settled on the collapsed form of his partner. He snarled and muttered something under his breath. I didn’t think it was possible for his face to get even more ruddy, and maybe it was just color creeping back into the world—or the lack of it everywhere else—but I thought if Volian’s face got any more scarlet it would burst into flames. His hands came up, two fingers raised on each.

The sign of forfeiture—not just of the match, but of what we’d taken.

I glanced over to Annalisa. She met my eyes and pounded a fist into her palm. I shook my head and raised the two fingers as well. She pouted but acknowledged the sign and mirrored it.

Volian, seasoned delver and apparent pit fighter, cast his sword down into the ash. I backed away so that he could pass freely. I cupped my hand against my groin, elation at victory dampened somewhat by the pain between my legs and the ringing in my ears.

Except, the ringing was getting louder. In fact, it was raising to a clamor as color came back to the world. I looked around. The riot had turned to panic, and there were members of the crowd down, either unconscious or dead in the stands. I saw a flash of steel, and realized there were Myazians already among the spectators. And somewhere else in the shrine, something boomed like thunder.

I swore myself blue in the face. The four of storms hadn’t just interrupted enchantments in the arena. It had also blanked the wards and magical defenses keeping the shrine secure. I looked up at the busty carving of Lucita hanging above the high priestess’ box seats.

Just our luck. And I knew exactly which god to blame it on.