TWO YEARS LATER
KIZZLORN
“Out in my dreamworld there's a better place to be
Cause all this world is full of lies
Breaking chains that hold me down I fly up to the sun
Another place, another life”
-EAGLE, Gamma Ray
A column of fire whirled into existence above the ground, engulfing a halfling in its hellish whirlwind. The blackened corpse fell to the ground.
“HOLD THE LINE!” the masked woman yelled as she locked her hands into position and cast forth a wickedly spiked magic missile. It killed one of their enemies. “Drerak’s gone- Orthos, we need your hammer on our right flank! Ziad, try to hit those fighters with something before they reach us!”
“YARRR!” Orthos the dwarf yelled as he swung his hammer into a platemail-clad foe. The resulting noise was like a kitchen pot being smashed with a boulder. Orthos ducked a returning blow, spun, and took his hammer to the underside of his enemy’s chin. The man was dead far before he landed, ten feet away.
Another enemy dropped, and another ally. The masked woman, the dwarf, the human, and the elf drew together into a tight group and concentrated their fire on the two remaining warriors- a fighter and a powerful wizard.
The fighter was switching to his longbow and making attacks from a distance. Orthos stepped in front of the woman to defend her, and the party elf fired two quick shots from his shortbow. The fighter fell.
The wizard would not be finished so easily. He blasted them with a ray of greenish light, and Orthos fell. The masked woman shaped her fingers into a steepled triangle and thrust them forward, shouting a series of words. The wizard stopped casting, teetered on his feet, and fell forward- fast asleep. The enemy was defeated.
“The winners-“ an amplified voice announced, “the FOES of the WINTER WYRM!!” The crowd erupted into a standing cheer. Robed high clerics walked out onto the field and brought the dead back to life, healed the injured. The two teams shook hands, smiling, which won another round of applause from the stands.
Walking back, the woman asked “Ortho, Pyllip… what was dying like?”
Ortho shuddered, but the halfling was more willing to speak about it. “It was very odd. Pain, blinding light, then darkness… then I felt like something more was happening. I was being drawn somewhere- hopefully before Pelor. Then I felt myself whooshing back into my body. It felt like I was dead for about a full day, which of course I guess I wasn’t.”
“Strange,” the woman mused. “Nothing to add, Orthos?”
“Didn’t like it.” The dwarf was rarely even this forthcoming about uncomfortable topics.
“You’re in the wrong business, my friend.” They entered the team waiting areas to change out of armor and prepare to leave the arena for the day. Once out of view of the stands, she removed the mask. She revealed a beautiful face that framed two sparkling bluish violent eyes. Lightish freckles danced over her nose and cheeks. She shook her hair free of the ties she kept it in, and a mass of flowing strawberry blonde fell about her head in unkempt tresses. Kizzlorn Spellforge had grown tall and strong and sure.
“That’s another victory, Kizz… we’re doing well,” the elf, named Taessus said.
“Well, nothing! I believe we’re at the top of our tier for the events we’ve been competing in… or damn close to it,” Orthos huffed with a grin.
Ziad was going through his spell component pouches. “I agree, but don’t get too cocky. Any number of good teams has come through the King’s Games and failed after a few good events. Let’s celebrate if we win… not until.”
The halfling was a cheerful youngster named Pyllip. He laughed and said “Ziad, you’d be the wet blanket at a mortician’s convention. I’ll be back, I’m just going to see where we rank.”
“Ooh, I’m going too,” Taessus said. “Coming, Kizz?”
“No thanks, you go ahead. I’m going to rest for a minute. Those spells really drained me. Besides, I don’t want to be seen more than I have to, if you follow me.”
The others left her in the combat preparation room.
Kizz sat on a bench and held the purplish silk mask in one hand. The other absentmindedly petted a cat that had wandered through the area, perhaps looking for mice. “I hope this mask does the trick, kitty. The last thing I need is to be recognized. Do you know what it’s like to live in a castle, like royalty, but to be looked down on by everyone around you? It’s pretty awful. If they knew I was competing in such a base activity as the King’s Games, I’d probably be thrown out on the street without so much as a ‘Thanks for washing our dishes all these years, Kizz!’.” She scratched the cat behind its left ear, and it purred happily. She picked it up and it curled on her lap. “You’ll never find friends as you can within the lower class, I tell you. People who don’t judge you for being born the daughter of a broke adventurer. Like cats! You don’t think I’m street trash, do you? Noooo. You’re such a sweet thing. Are you lost? What’s your name, kitty?”
Snooky.
Kizzlorn blinked and sat still. “… …What??”
More to come...