NOW LIVE! Today's the day you meet your new best friend. You don’t have to leave Wolfy behind... In 'Pets & Sidekicks' your companions level up with you!

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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Haraash Saan" data-source="post: 4584471" data-attributes="member: 46615">The banquet was an enormous affair! Guards, contrary to Moxadder’s information, surrounded the edge of the arena, although they were some distance from the gathered masses. A huge ‘U’ shaped table was setup in centre of field of battle where we would compete the next day. There must have been more than three hundred guests and gladiators all told. All sitting under the glittering stars of night sky and the stern and proud gaze of a bronze statue of Riork, one of the champions of yesteryear. He was rumoured to still run a gladiatorial school somewhere on the southern coast of the Fastness past Port Praar.       Knights in full plate armour sat beside mages and rogues. The colourful sashes of previously successful competitors were on display for all to see. Crimson, yellow, green and silver were on display, a different colour representing a different stage of success in the Games. I even saw a few gold sashes. They signified the victors of Games past.     A second table was set a little away from the open end of the ‘U’. It seated not only Prince Brand and Duchess Servessa but also King Thurlland II himself! I had not realised that he would be here to view the Games. I thought him too ill. Even as I took my own place beside my fellow Hydras at one corner of the ‘U’ shaped table I saw him rise, assisted by a young man that had been discreetly standing behind his throne.     A pompous looking official, complete with long silk robe, marched purposefully into the middle of the arena.     “Gathered friends and competitors.” He bellowed, his voice so loud and clear that it drowned out all conversation. “May I present your King, Thurlland the second!”    The hundreds of guests burst into a rapturous applause that was quickly waved down by the flunkey.    “Welcome to the eighty seventh Games of Halfast.” said the King, his voice too was strangely amplified so that even those placed furthest away from him could hear it clearly.    I will save you the details, it was long and uninspiring, but the gist of it was a welcome to visiting nobles and wishing the combatants all the best.    Finally he gave a clap of his hands that rosed me from my doze, and declared that the feast was to commence. The old man collapsed into his throne and then I could see him no more for attendants had arrived with the first course.    Collectively we of the Hydra were wary of the magnificent dishes being presented to us, but Mortec reassured us by blessing our meals in the name of Todesmagie. Religious assurance was all I needed to before I devoured all that was before me. And I was glad that I did for it was truly delicious.    Several more dishes came and went and no one at the banquet appeared to be any worse off than they had been. Perhaps the priest had been right and Laster had ensured a safe feast for all. Sadly, for the first time in my life Laster disappointed me.    I was already half way through a succulent roasted pig when Strav whispered a warning. “My blade glows!” he hissed. “There is strong magic nearby!”    My fork paused in its journey to my mouth as I took in what Strav’s declaration could mean.    “And the serving staff have changed! They’re now all women wearing hats or scarves on their heads.” whispered Moxadder before standing suddenly and running off.    It was at this point that I really began to worry. I swallowed what I had been chewing reflectively and regretted it instantly. I was slow to pick up what my companions had already concluded. There were bald women serving food to all and sundry. The Geduldian women that had escaped us the night before had shaven heads. I had just been poisoned! And it was such scrumptious pork too!    Moxadder appeared in the corner of my vision a fair way down the table from us. He was excitedly talking to some dangerous looking black armoured warriors. They were the Son’s of Light, a faction of Gerechian’s that were even more vehement in their worship of Gerech than most.    The bearded warrior to whom Moxadder spoke rose from his seat and stretched out his arms before suddenly clapping his hands. A deep rumbling thunderclap emanated from the palms that he so swiftly brought together.     The boisterous noise and accompanying atmosphere instantaneously ceased. Heads turned this way and that trying to spy the source of the deafening sound. All soon found themselves facing the tall severe warrior that had disrupted the feast. I found myself strangely drawn to watching him. There was an awesome and frightening power about the man. I could not even bring myself to look away from him.    “There are enemies among us. They deal in deceit and lies. Even now as you chew the morsal in your mouth you taste the bitterness of death.” His voice boomed and all listened with fearful rapture.    Once again he lifted his arms, this time to the heavens. “Beloved Gerech.” He began. Just what we needed, an insane Gerechian calling to his dead god.     “I, Abbot Yodfor, call forth the Black Lords!” he cried out.    I recalled a snippet about the Black Lords. They were a legendary outfit of knights that for along time before their gruesome deaths had held the wall at Vronberg from the Dominion.    A strange black mist began to swirl in the centre of the ‘U’ shape banquet table. It turned, twisted and writhed upon itself, all the time becoming thicker. So thick that soon I could not see through it. Out of the fog stepped seven black knights. Each with the symbol of Gerech, twelve evenly spaced white lines radiating from a small white hub, emblazoned on their breastplates. As one their blades rasped from their scabbards as they took their first steps forward.    “Reveal yourself Geduld!” roared the Abbot.     The waiting staff screamed and convulsed. Some even fell to their knees. The wide open mouths of others began to foam, spittle dripping down their chins. Then the carnage began. The Black Lords launched themselves at the bald women, tendrils of the black fog trailing each of their movements.    A cry from Stravarious caused me to turn. He launched himself at the girl who had just brought us more poisoned delights on which to dine, but she nimbly stepped aside from his clumsy clutches. She did not evade Eldritch Light so easily. Whilst still seated I whipped it from its scabbard and managed to thrust it deep into her thigh even as she turned to flee.    Morgan struck her too. His Gerechian breastplate glowed an incandescent blue as power seemed to surge through him and the baton of Artyom Seth that he wielded delivered a telling strike to her ribs.    But it was not enough to fell her. She managed to scarper all the way to the waiting picket of guards. She was no longer my concern. I glanced to my left seeking a new opponent and saw Zhontell in single combat with another bare headed woman. The elf was throwing punches in rapid succession, but the Geduldian was weaving past Zhontell’s attempts as though she anticipated them before Zhontell moved.     I pushed myself up so that I could run to render assistance. But suddenly felt as though I had had too much wine. My mind was adrift and my vision was slowly spinning.     Moxadder revolved into view, still near the Abbot Yodfor. He was in hand to hand with one of the poisoners. And then he too slipped from my view.     I pinched my eyes forcing them to refocus. I looked again. Zhontell still needed my assistance. In a moment of clarity I saw only one route, the others all congested with chaos of battle and confusion.     My foot propped onto the bench on which I had been sitting, I pushed myself onto the dining table and ran. I skipped over whole roasted pigs, danced amongst the goblets and mugs and jumped over a man slumped face first in his dinner. Nary a drop was spilt or meal trodden until I prepared for the final leap that would send the thin steel of my blade through the heart of Zhontell’s opponent. I took a short step as I looked for the best point to leap from then I took the last stride designed to propel me into the fray and to skewer our enemy.     It was at that moment a wave of nausea and dizziness hit me. My stomach cramped in agony. Bile rushed upward into my throat. My vision blurred, and I missed the vital step. I stood in something, I do not know what, but I do know that instead of piercing the assassin’s most vital organ I slipped and crashed into both her and Zhontell.     The three of us lay momentarily dazed in a sprawl of arms and legs. The Geduldian was the first to realise her predicament and react. She stood and raced away from us.     Zhontell was also quick to recover and sprinted after her. I stood somewhat more warily and absentmindedly brushed myself off. Thankfully Halfast had had no recent summer rain, there was only dust on the leg of my pants not mud. I grabbed Eldritch Light that had been dislodged from my grasp upon my somewhat crude contact and followed in pursuit.    When I caught them they were once again caught within their melee. I could see that Zhontell had landed some telling blows, the woman’s eye was already bruised and swollen, but it was two lightening strikes from my rapier that ended her life. Thankfully that was all that was needed. The pain struck me again. My blood felt as if it were boiling inside me. Each heart beat sending more lava through my veins. I clawed at my heart, trying to bore through my chest and rip it from my agony wracked body.    Just as suddenly the pain stopped. I staggered, exhausted from the effects of the poison, and trod on my victims arm. A crackling boom sounded in the distance. As I turned my attention to the noise the very corpse under my foot violently exploded in a ball of flame. The force catapulted me from my feet. As I slammed into the ground the air was pushed out of my lungs and I desperately tried to suck in more of the precious stuff.     Zhontell quickly hauled me to my feet and slapped me hard on the back. I hacked a Moxadderesque type cough and finally drew in the sweet nectar of life. It was then that I realised that my leg had been quite badly burnt, and my pants were ruined. That was my last thought as once more pain erupted from within me and I blacked out.</blockquote>

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