BECMI Chapter 150 – It’s Not Fighting and Slaughter, It’s just Showbiz!

“Friends and fellow enthusiasts of gore and butchery, I join you in saying that our latest winner got a little bit too devoted in his showmanship and that impaling himself was a bit too much. Shame on you, Elflord Waynder Equavus. Yes, the Sword turning into a Spear was a bit of a surprise, but still… Oh, I apologize, yes, there’s a whole lot of crackling lightning down there. Fellow goreophiles, that pointy-eared little fellow must have used some of that surface-worlder magic at the same time Himguz impaled his skull on that Spear. Must have been a lot of voltage, Himguz doesn’t look like the type to let some steel in his brain stop him. “But, our winner is off to Niflheim, and at least secured himself a nice trophy for the quickest ticket Down so far! We’re getting quite a patina down there of blood, at least, adding this distinct yellow to the mix.

“A word from the proud offices of

Hanvol just grinned ear-to-ear as he heard it, complete with a proper upper-class Federyn accent speaking through the nose.

“Wow, folks, that’s something you don’t see everyday (mostly because we don’t get Paladins down here in the pits much, you know)! That human in the shiny armor just pulled off a with a hand-held Spear, and then executed a spell to reset himself all the way back to where he started before Arghit the Maimer could, well, maim him! It looks like Pious Godfrey’s going for his Holy Sword now, yeah, no wincing, folks, that’s just Holy light raking the darkness in your souls and letting you know the disapproval of Higher Powers for your life choices, nothing to worry about today!

… “Welp, that’s a good show, it is, and if the Maimer looked a bit contrite and repentant as that shining knight gave him some Heavenly mercy, I’m sure Nifl won’t mind the enlightenment there at the end that he was being used up for the entertainment of an uncaring Immortal power, nosirree…

“A word from our sponsors of the

There was no Order by that name, but I was pretty sure just saying it was going to put thoughts into the head of the fellow I’d taught some proper Paladin spells… spells that didn’t come from Immortals, but from the fact he was a Bright Silver Soul and the best of Mortals…

“Now there, you see, that was a proper show! The footwork! The lashing claws! The stabbing tail! The bloody sword, the clanging shield, the dash and crash and oh, our winner is bleeding out blue this time! We’re getting quite a collage down there on the arena floor, folks, but the rather grim and unpretentious Sir Horn put on a good show with our big green Wugwugh the Brutal, so let’s hear it for Brutal stepping off on down that road to Niflheim in style! This was our longest and best fight yet, I hope everyone’s feeling that vibe now!

“As Wugwugh is being hauled off to the butcher to make some snacks for the crowd, I know you folks are probably a bit hungry at this point, worry not, because our sponsor Brandybuck Cookware, deals in some of the finest pots and pans made this side of Iberon, that surface city and empire waaaay down south most of you don’t really care about, regardless! If you need some new stewpots and quick bloodboiling pans, they have the ironmongery ready for you!”

Our local halfling cook was hooting and jumping around excitedly at getting his own mention, finally. He’d been doing a lot of cooking with Master Ialo at the Thisbean Inn, working on some really exotic recipes and giving the Inn a reputation for an incredible dining experience.

“You have to admit, folks, the Sword of Darkmoor lived up to its name in that fight! That king there really knows how to use that thing, and he’s a lot stronger than he looks!” Courtesy of the Girdle of Giant Power he was now wearing to drive the point home, especially after a bunch of Wishcrafting to get his Stats up! “Spiked Orhgasky was plenty tough and ready for a scrum, and now he’s got his reward and is heading on down to Nifl as the Black Sword of Darkmoor did its job once again, adding to the thousands of enemies of Darkmoor that have fallen before it! Adds a nice violet to the collection of blood down there, don’t you think?

“And now on behalf of the Royal House of Darkmoor, who would like everyone to know it was called Darkmoor before the king got there, he didn’t pick such a depressing name.”

King Antius looked kind of incredulous at that, then burst out laughing as he shook his head and strode past me, the expression on my face trying not to be sour and rather failing.

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“Ho, what’s this? The host of the Games is changing up matters again, folks! Not just a mounted fellow, they’re bringing out a straight warbeast! Let’s see if this is an upgrade or a downgrade, everyone...”

It took a while, but the Beastials had all died to the surface-worlders. Not a single one of them had managed to claim victory.

The Avatar up there was seething as an incredibly depressed pall hung over the surviving beast-folk. Their greatest champions had lined up and been cut down one after another, all their size and strength and power proving to be of no use.

Even Krakgall the Drake-eater had perished to the Azure Knight, who, it turned out, was really good at dragon-slaying. When the fucker turned up on his fire lizard steed, Sir Antonix had ridden in on his mechanical destrier and showed the chowderhead what real horsemanship and a cavalier's lancework was.

This newest contestant was hooded and chained, the handlers likewise either naturally blind or blank-helmed. It was scaled like a black dragon, but the wings were kind of stumpy, it was more squat than serpentine, and it had six legs, with the forelegs not looking so prehensile as did a dragon’s.

The helm was unlocked from the jutting horns, and bright red eyes with heavy hooding were revealed there. The beast bellowed its anger and its power as it looked around. It saw the big green four-armed female there, who waved the dragonbone club in one hand and pointed with a spear made from the spine of a giant of some kind in the other.

Sulking, the dracolisk turned back to the arena whose stony floor was covered with two dozen different shades of blood all turned and churned up now.

“Wow, folks, this is not something you see every day! That’s a dracolisk, the child of a black dragon and a basilisk getting frisky, of all things! Acid breath, petrifying gaze, maybe even a bit of flight! Itzemstun, let’s see a proper threat display for your loving audience here!”

The cheers were probably a bit half-hearted, but the dracolisk still rose up on its hind legs, spread its small wings, and bellowed out a challenge at the roaring noise that erupted, which did seem to energize the crowd somewhat… although probably not as much after Zargazund the fire lizard got a lance in its belly rather abruptly just a short time ago, courtesy of

There was an answering shriek that came ripping back, the force of it actually raising streaks in the bloody floor.

“Oh, here comes the challenger, and wasn’t that a happy cry! Aficionados of all things monstrous beating on one another, here comes the giant Bat called Duum, preferred mount of that elf in red sitting at the edge of the fighting grounds over there! He’s big and bad and he looks like he’s wearing a tux somehow on his fur, how IS that hat staying on his head?

“Oh, here he comes, and he has his wingblades up already, look at that crimson bleeding out behind him! Looks a bit serious, folks, coming in at speed… I don’t think he’s much smaller than- whoa! Look at that! I think he just doubled in size and-”

Itzemstun wasn’t waiting for the swooping Bat to get close enough, and promptly vomited its breath weapon of acid in a killing stream directly at him.

The came screaming back, just at the upper edge of hearing for most humanoids, but a few dozen members of the Beastial crowd clapped their ears just in time for their various auditory membranes to blow out from the ultrasonic punch.

The spray of acid was shoved aside and in all directions, the ground looked like it was shredded by a dozen giant knives, and the smashed into the dracolisk hard.

Scales were sliced through, the leather of its wings was shredded, stones were reduced to powder, and one of its horns was clipped off neatly as the dracolisk somehow withstood the worst of it.

But not the Lance clasped in prehensile rear feet and leveled at it.

Rearing up and braced to take the charge of another monstrous creature, the dracolisk instead took a lance strike worthy of a charging giant to the chest. Twenty feet of wood and steel punched through it as Duum, his eyes clamped idly shut and echolocation in use, flew up and past it as the shocked and impaled dracolisk faltered, scrabbling at the thick pole rammed completely through its chest and scales there, and then slowly fell away and off to the side as Duum flapped lazily up and away.

Yeah, no active in the area right now, just . They weren’t flying away.

“Well, I didn’t think we were going to get two victories so quickly, but beasts just do things differently nowadays, who would have thought? A Bat with a Lance, that’s just unreal,” the semi-shocked announcer’s voice prattled on. “Yes, it looks like Itzemstun is down and out, that’s a lot of blood coming out.

“Oh, and like the fire lizard earlier, the surface-worlders seem to be taking possession of the carcass. Sorry, folks, guess you won’t get to see what dead dracolisk tastes like today.

“All brought to you by our sponsor, the

Belle casually the carcass as the arena went very silent.

The Avatar’s sons were dead, and most of their fathers, too.

There was only her left. An Avatar, wielding two Artifacts, flaunting them, and with a basically idealized Beastial form, as was her right.

High Priestess and Mother-Queen of an underground empire that had been reduced to ash and dust.

It was now her time to step forth.

Looking properly agitated now and ready for revenge, the fully-armored warrior-priestess the size of a small giant trod heavily and confidently forward, certain that there was nobody there who could confront her, an Avatar of Nifl.