Round 2 Fight 2 Part 1

With a flash of light and a chanting of heavenly voices, I appeared in my next destination, the Stick of Champions held aloft. The last fight had been quite exciting, and rather enlightening, indeed. I was thus eager to find the next champion.

The sweet chirping of birds and the lulls of cattle filled my ears, as did the overpowering smell of a dung heap. It didn’t help that the sun was high in the sky, making me a dazzled little thing. I flailed about, catching myself on something sturdy and falling back first into something smelly, soft, and warm.

Before the shock of what had hit me got to me, I was greeted by a figure blocking the harsh rays of the sun. The woman standing before me had a cute face with her brown hair tied up in a ponytail. She wore a long-sleeved shirt, hardy workers’ gloves, and a pair of pants that hooked over her shoulders. She reached her hand out, and I lifted the Stick of Champions. When she grabbed onto it, a flash of inspiration hit me. I saw behind her the looming form of a motherly dragon. It was a form I had seen in my travels once before. I gasped and stumbled back again, falling once more in the muck, but whispering a word under my breath: “Xasandra.”

After my afternoon unwillingly rolling in the dung heap, my host was gracious enough to let me get a bath. It was during this time that she was also washing up for the day. I came to find out that her name was Blair and that she worked as a farmer here, tending to fields and breeding cattle for their milk. I must admit the taste of a cold glass of this juice was quite refreshing. I thought that maybe my friend Baker back in Anteronia might appreciate the ingredient in his work.

As she undressed to bathe, I noticed upon her shoulder a mark of a dragon, a tattoo inscribed with a symbol I saw in my travels to forgotten temples. I had hoped that my vision was a mere fluke, but this symbol upon her skin sealed it for me. I hopped up from the water, my scales glistening. “You know Xasandra?” I shouted, waving my arms frantically.

Blair grabbed me and helped to scrub me down, getting all that smelly stuff off of me. “Sure ‘nuff,” she said, giving me a quick kiss on the head. “She’s the goddess mah family’s served for generations.”

She finished cleaning me off and then stepped out of the water herself. “Ah reckon one day my goddess would call upon me to do somethin’ big. Wait right there. I’ll get mah ceremonial armor ‘n such. Ah sure hope whoever I’m facin’ in this tournament of yers is worthy to fulfill mah goal.” She said this, tapping her stomach.

The Stick of Champions took Blair and me to our destination and the location of our battle. When we arrived at the clean marble halls of the Temple of Love, I squealed with joy. Knights and priests of love sat around the small chamber, with Tymara, the High Priestess, seated at the head. “We have been waiting for you, herald of the gods,” Tymara said. “Waiting with our champion.”

I slapped my hands against my cheeks, hopping from one foot to the next. Could their champion be whom I thought?

The doors to the chamber opened. In stepped Tybalt, his skin glistening and oiled, his hair flowing and well-washed, and his armor polished to a ceremonial sheen.

I compared his torso-exposing armor to Blair’s. She covered her stomach and breasts in armor while leaving her arms and legs only protected by her farmer’s outfit. In her gloved hands, she held a harvesting implement. In her eyes, she held a determined look towards the man, trailing down his body, and resting between his legs. There, his loincloth secured his holy weapon from unwanted use.

Tybalt placed a hand upon his chest and gave Blair a bow. “It is an honor to meet a follower of the forgotten dragon goddess,” he said. “I do hope this competition puts nothing between us, and we can use this time to celebrate the intricacies of physical love.”

Blair squeezed her scythe and stepped up to him. “Ah need to make sure I can keep the faith of mah goddess goin’ strong. That means findin’ a real man to be the daddy to mah baby.” She points the head of her weapon towards Tybalt. “Ah’m hopin’ you don’t disappoint me, but if you do, I’ll just find someone else in the next round!”

Tybalt frowns. “I recognize familial love, but it is not something I can give while serving this duty of mine. Yet, if the gods decree you victorious in this bout, I will do as they will, and I will be a father to your child.”

Blair smirks at that and grabs onto her weapon with both hands. “Alright, then! Well, just make sure you can hold yer own before we get to rollin’ in the hay.”

Tybalt took a deep breath and held his hands out. His open palms glow with holy light. “I use my body to make love, but I can fight to defend whom I care for. I fight now to retain my role as a traveling Knight.”

Tymara nodded at that. I had meanwhile scurried up to her seat, plopping myself down upon her lap. She scratched under my chin, and I liked that very, very much. I have a feeling I’m going to love this contest very very much, too!