BECMI Chapter 148 – Not a Duel of Fates

I turned around with everyone else to look at the temple a quarter-mile away, mostly ringed by our forces and definitely in no position to do anything. Illuminated by the ghostly light that emanated from all the bones buried in the mortar, a very large green form was visible there.I Responded dryly, every being alive within three miles capable of hearing me, and with , understanding me.

It didn’t take much to see the eyes of a whole lot of fighters here had lit right up. This was a major chance for martial glory!

“IF WE DIE, WE WISH TO DIE IN BATTLE, NOT BENEATH THE FOUL LIGHTS OF YOUR VILE SURFACE-WORLDER MAGICKS!” was the prompt and bitter reply. “WE WILL SHOW YOU HOW TO FACE TRUE HEROES!” she mocked us, the words loud enough to actually blow past us. Naturally all the very brave warriors about me bridled with outrage that the mutant thing could even think of itself as a hero. It was just a savage Beastial thing, a pawn and creation of Nifl, after all!

The fact I was pretty damn sure that was an Avatar of Nifl disguised as a four-armed giant troll-thing, and that most of her bodyguards were likely regenerators, too, was something I might mention to the others, and I might not.

I just glanced around, and the warriors were practically humming out of their armor for the right to participate in brutal one-on-one combat to the death in front of an elite army like this. Even the Greens were looking forward to the spectacle, despite having no real urge to engage in melee combat.

I responded casually.

There was a moment of what felt like rather stunned silence to all of those watching, and then the stones of the temple and its outer walls began to stream and flow, with control even more powerful than I could wield with a Rune of .

Obviously the structure of the temple was useless now, but peeling it open, leaving the nave and dais intact but elevated, was perfectly acceptable, making it plain that we were doing battle before a Patron of Death, an enthroned black-and-white skeleton larger and taller than any of the Beastials watching us from back there.

Immortal dread was flowing off the thing, but there was a wash of Light from behind and above us in response to the prayers of the Clerics with us, streaming out to oppose and negate the fear rushing forth there.

With a surprising degree of silence and discipline, the surviving Beastials began to file out of the dungeons beneath the place, heading up to the seats to watch the show in grim, fatalistic fashion. They’d seen us mow down vast hordes of undead by the thousands, and knew that raging out to kill us was only going to get them cut down equally quickly.

“I will fight!” a deep voice bellowed from the ranks of the Northmen, an Axe-bearing figure hurrying forward urgently, trailed by yet another one. “I will be one of the champions!” he reiterated urgently.

Skrotti Halfhand had been somewhat intrigued and bemused to find himself and his hand-picked guard under the command of Skarvald, but the barbarians actually got alone fairly well, and they had energetically participated in all the combat they could.

They’d also watched us mow through forces several times our size, giving them no chance to fight whatsoever.

There was no way Skarvald was going to give up on the chance for glory now. He strode up urgently, his eyes wide and blood already pumping.

He had not been part of the force slaughtering the Beastials for years. King Antius, the Azure Knight, Pious Godfrey, and other heroes of the realm had swapped in and out continuously over the past year, getting in that precious Karma in shifts and taking turns so they were not all occupied at the same time. It was now winter again, so the campaign season was over and the need for vigilance was less, greatly helping matters.

His whining and complaints had been met with “Ribbit”, and he’d shut up after his first protests made it to me.

Importantly, he’d had no access to One a Day knowledge, which meant despite being a monumentally gifted warrior, with natural Stats a Nogging individual would happily build towards, he wasn’t at maximum Hit Points for his Level, he was still a glory-obsessed Human/2, and he didn’t have a properly Named Weapon.

He was also a Master with the Axe, not a Grandmaster, not improving his weapon skills to a greater degree, something my own core Company had been told to pursue with utter determination. All of the Company were at least Masters by now, with the only non-Grandmaster in my Free Company of personal followers being Hanvol, who had a lot of magic to master instead.

Given that, Hanvol was now an Archmage with IX’s and more powerful than Daffid the Red. The circumspect Federyn native was a master of Buffing others and battlefield control, letting the warriors do their jobs and leveraging his spells with great control and modesty.

I just stared back at Skarvald coldly, letting him cool down and get his emotions under control, and very plainly letting him know he could not force me to appoint him as a champion. High Jarl Skrotti looked back and forth between us, judging where the power lay, and realized which way the wind was blowing quickly.

Skarvald also seemed to realize that, a shadow passing across his face as he understood I was going to dismissively refuse him rather than look like I was knuckling under to his demand and undercutting my own authority.

“P-please!” he managed to blurt out between clenched teeth, a tic pulsing in his cheek. I had long proven I was immune to the manly fool’s sex appeal and charm, and he was not immune to being Ribbited, powerful magical Amulet or no. If he tried to press the point, he was going to be a frog, and that was that.

I gave him another long and weighty stare. “You are inferior in power, skill, and Equipment,” I informed him, and he promptly reddened in protest and shame at my observation, having not improved markedly at all over the last two years and more. “You will be first and take on the least of them. Your Amulet will not save your life here, so if you die, there is no magic to whisk you away to safety.” A lot of eyes fell on the Amulet about his throat at mention of that, the thing that made him so hard to actually kill. “Axe Hrummel! You will be in charge of treating his Weapons and Armor to a decent standard. He will need on his Axe specifically, because his foe will likely be able to Regenerate without it.

“Master Skarvald is not a Good man and will not be able to benefit from many of the better combat spells against these creatures. Choose Infusions accordingly. , naturally.” I glanced at the unhappy face of the barbarian. “You will save the head. We have a use for them.

“We will see how many they choose to send out. I will name the champions then.”

“Who will get the glory of battling their high priestess?” Skarvald asked urgently, stung that he wasn’t getting the honor.

If he had any idea how tough she actually was, he should have been thanking me.

“I will fight her. She and her Patron will be cheating heavily, and I intend to cheat worse.”

Smiles broke out all around at that.

“Here’s the strategy we will be using…”

My Company of Beastial-killers had long grown very used to operating with Buffs up to fight things. Combined with fighting skill and Weapon Mastery, they were more useful than most direct-damage spells in many cases, especially when facing numbers of enemies.

The High Priestess marched out two dozen of her servants and guards. All of them were at least the size of ogres. Most of them were at average intelligence, although the three biggest of them were likely pretty stupid, but also overly muscled, scaled, with thick hides and bulky bodies… and four arms.

“She’s the mother of at least half of them, and some are sons or daughters of the others,” I informed everyone, eyeing the assembly. Normal breeding of Beastials had no effect due to the Chaos in their creation, but obviously that didn’t hold true with an Avatar. Nifl had created an optimal Avatar with all the best Beastial features for Herself, and Immortal bloodlines trumped innate randomness, it seemed.

Pointedly, all of the creatures had Regeneration… and had been treated to both acid and fire, effectively making them nominally unkillable without some really overwhelming damage of that type.

Clever. It also meant they could compete in successive fights without being impeded if they won. They were really not going to like at all, were they?

The arena was a good hundred yards from the center of the fighting, tall and broad and now backed with screaming Beastials working themselves up into a frenzy.

“They are all being Buffed up with spells from the Shamans, to some extent,” Belle agreed, violet eyes glowing slightly as she regarded them. “Clerical magic to aid them in combat, it looks like, boosts to their Weapons.” Most of which looked to be of Jotun make and were definitely serviceable.

There were rumbles all around, but since I was helping my lads with much the same thing, nobody protested too much.

“Belle and I will stand watch to make sure no spells from the crowd are used against you.” Not that I was worried too much about them the spells everyone had on their Gear. Even restricting my Caster Level was going to put it well above any of the Beastial Casters, save the Avatar itself, and Girding +9 was going to REALLY annoy them all.

“I will call everyone out in order when I see who is fighting next. It looks like the big yellow one with the pinhead will be first. Skarvald, he will be yours. Gunner Horst!” I called out. “Something tuneful, with many long and low horns for the barbarian, when it is time!”

“I have just the thing, Lady Edge!” the former technician shouted back happily. The videogame so many of the Greens played had a LOT of evocative music to it, after all…

His Armor, Shield, and Axe buffed to +V, boosting his Saves by the same, to stop any mindfuckery, and all of that topped off with +70 or so temporary Soak from me via Good Healing magic, Skarvald’s blue eyes were gleaming in anticipation.

There was also a single waiting on the edge of his Axe to trigger when he first hit the brute, which would get rid of all of its own similar Buffs. That really buoyed him.