The two of us headed home at dusk, but left spells in our place. When we returned home, we immediately set up one of the large spare computer screens we had in storage and hooked it up to the scrying magic we'd left back at the choosing grounds. We had several duplicate's for most of the ship's parts. Almost everything except power sources. They'd been difficult to craft, and the materials we needed to make the one's we had were extremely rare. It had cost us eventually for not making duplicates of those as well.
Hermione and I drafted David and Lora in helping watch the feed at all times. My wife and I needed rest and recover. We didn't know how all this was going to go down, but we both needed to be prepared.
There had been a few false alarms in the middle of the night. The avarta were so quick to anger, and so tightly compact in the choosing grounds that fights broke out constantly. We'd all been fooled at least once.
Then, nine days after I killed the Oldfather, the contest started in earnest. We all sat down to watch. Hermione had been watching at the time it started. "It was actually quiet, that's how I knew something was about to happen." The computer screen filled the room with a low roar from all the screaming avarta. Two rows of ten avarta marched out of the tent in line with one another. They came in all shapes and sizes, and they were all painted with a ash grey color. Every one had different designs and symbols. They marched down the hill toward the ring shaped arena.
They roared and snarled at each other, but didn't touch one another. Once they were all within the arena and had spread out, a particularly scarred avarta walked to the edge. The roars of the crowd quieted again as he began to speak.
"The Oldfather is dead, and the time to choose another has come!" The crowd roared and screamed. The speaker laughed and held up his arms. "The strongest member of each of our mountain clans has been put forward. They have already killed many to reach this point. The choosing is divided into three parts. The first is the Tenzhok, Every avarta against every other. When the plate is struck, the first trial begins. Those standing at the end of time limit will progress forward. The winner of these trials, will be given the honor of feasting on the dead!"
Here the crowd roared again in approval. Cannibals? Why wasn't I surprised. The twenty "contestants" were stretching and growling at each other. I could see the one I'd spoken to easily enough, he wasn't the biggest, but was on the larger end of the spectrum. The narrator, that old scarred avarta, raised a massive hammer and brought it down onto a metallic plate set up at the edge of the arena. It was much like a round table made of flat metal on top. When the hammer struck, a piercing wavering sound filled the area, and our ears. I'd thought for a moment that the scrying charms were experiencing some sort of interference, but they didn't seem to be
As soon as the hammer struck, the contestants were off like a shot. We watched in partial horror and partial fascination as they tore into each other. Bolts of red energy flew everywhere as the massive fighters weaved and dodged around the blows. They could be incredibly fast for such large beings. One of them lost an arm and kept fighting. It had managed to sink its teeth into the other's throat, ripping his jaw and neck free of flesh and sinew.
Another lost a leg, and switched to running on the remaining three, bounding about like a wounded dog, still graceful in spite of the missing limb. I watched as the avarta I'd spoken to gut an enemy before rolling away from crimson slashes of power. The three legged avarta jumped onto his back and tried to bite at the back of his head, but he twisted and placed three leg into the path of an oncoming attack. Fountains of blood leapt out of its side and back before it slumped off of him sideways, dead.
Five of them were dead within the first minute. Those remaining were unhurt, except for one arm. Two avarta pulled another in half between the two of them, littering the grounds with a splash of bright entrails. Lora stood and rushed to the bathroom. We could all hear her vomiting and David followed quickly after her to help.
I glanced toward Hermione and she just shook her head in shock. The cheering in the crowd was nearly deafening again. I scanned the crowd and came back with another shock.
"Do you see what they're doing in the crowds?"
She blinked and started scanning the crowd at that before a frown marred her features. "Are they doing what I think they're doing?"
I chuckled dryly, it held little humor. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure."
"Thats disgusting."
"Now Hermione, your one to always talk about respecting different cultures."
She looked at me like I was insane and I grinned despite the grizzly entertainment our scrying charms were providing. "Harry, I love you, but that's one fantasy we won't be trying out anytime ever."
I threw my head back and laughed. "I don't think its something you're going to have to worry about love. Look, there's only seven of them left." We refocused on the fighting, trying to ignore the... carnal entertainment some of the other avarta were engaging in.
The large scarred avarta held his hammer in one hand above the metal plate. I didn't see anything that he could read the time off of, but he seemed to be waiting for just the right moment. Finally, after another avarta had his lower jaw blown off, he struck the plate and the fighting came to an abrupt end. I scanned those still alive and found the one I was 'rooting' for. He was drenched in blood and viscera, but seemed mostly unharmed other than a wound to the shoulder. The remaining Avarta either seemed completely unharmed or near dead.
The biggest of the lot, standing nearly a meter taller than our's, seemed unhurt but for scratches. The one armed avarta had survived, the injury barely seemed to bother him. Another one had been blinded, and its face was little more than hamburger, but it was standing strong, a single magic eye could be seen glaring out of the mess. Out of the two remaining, one had lost an ear and an eye on the left side of his head, the the last was holding in his guts with a bloodied hand.
"That one isn't going to make it." I pointed to the one standing on shaking legs with its hands pressed against its guts. "They do alright if they lose a limb, seem to recover pretty quickly, but that one has had all his soft bits tenderized." Hermione made a face at the description but didn't argue with me.
David and Lora returned then and she immediately went green at the gills. We sent them on home with a thank you and an apology, now it would be our turn to provide dinner. The both of them assured us that it was fine, to not worry about it. All the same I insisted, they'd gotten quite the shock on our behalf.
We kept a close eye on the scrying display from then on. It seemed as if the potentials were being lead away, and the arena was being cleared. I wondered momentarily if they would be given medical treatment between whatever trials would happen next. Somehow I doubted it. Seemed like it would go against their strange philosophy. We got something to eat in the down time between events and sat waiting impatiently for it to continue.
Old world humans were nearly as blood thirsty as these people, so much so that they'd nearly destroyed the entire species. I'd lived through many periods in time, and in all of them humans were a violent, bloodthirsty lot. People assumed things got better as time went on but it simply wasn't true. After Hermione disappeared, and before the fall of the bombs, was a particularly bloody period in human history. Before the end of it humans were freely killing each other on reality tv for fabulous prizes. For all their talk of civilization and culture, they loved a good bloodbath.
And what was I doing? Sitting here eating a snack, like some kid parked in front of the TV watching Saturday morning cartoons, soaking it all in. I shook my head in dry amusement, I was one of those old world humans after all.
2.
within a few hours, the arena was set up and ready to go for another round. I wonder what they'd be doing now? Another bout to the death? Tag with razor blades? Perhaps they'd have a race that involved cutting off their opponents feet?
Maybe a spelling B? Your word is genocide, can it be used in a sentence? We go out and commit genocide on the weekends, to unwind and blow off steam. Oh, genocide, g-e-n-o-...
"Harry are you alright? You were... spelling something under your breath and muttering."
I shook my head and grinned at Hermione. "Just a thought running away with me love. Look, they're about all set up now." She gave me one more funny look and I kissed her to calm her nerves. We both turned and focused on the scrying screen, ready to see what would happen next.
The large scarred avarta in charge of banging on the huge slate of metal raised his hands and the crowd quieted significantly. It was hard to get such a rowdy group to get completely quiet, but they got close. The remaining six entered and walked down toward the arena. the were placed on circles just on the outer edge fo the softened dirt. I took a good luck at the arena now. it looked larger, possibly done with magic when one of us weren't looking. In fact, it looked nearly twice as big. There were boxes of varying height and lengths scattered about everywhere. I hadn't the slightest clue as to what they could possibly be for, but I suppose I'd find out soon enough.
The Avarta themselves seemed rough, but were more together than I thought they would be. Perhaps they were allowed to attend to their own wounds. The one with hamburger face had mostly scabbed over, and the swelling was way down as what it should have been. Gutless was hunched over with a hand on his stomach, but it was wrapped in something, at least a bandage had been applied. The event manager, it was as good a name as any, began to speak then.
"The next trial will soon commence! There is no time limit, no rules beyond that they cannot leave the arena. They will continue onward their only goal survival, until only two remain."
The crowd roared wildly at that. The large scarred avarta hefted his hammer and held it high over head. The boxes in the arena began to quake and quiver. I watched, just as its hammer struck the metal plate, they sprang to life. Some of them sprouted a dozen whirring blades and whipped through the air fast enough to be a blur. Others turned into low walls, like cover, and some of them began to shoot and spin fireballs and bolts of lightning. A few other boxes grew teeth like gruesome traps and started skittering around the arena on spider legs.
We watched in fascination as the six remaining darted forward into the arena. They ducked and weaved around whirring blades and fire. Now that they'd all entered the area, all of the traps began to move. It was insanity to watch. They were mostly ignoring one anther for now, intent on getting a feel for the various traps spread around the arena.
The avarta missing an ear and an eye was nearly decapitated by a spinning bladed trap that leapt on him. He ducked and swerved to avoid the blades, taking several cuts in the process.
One arm capitalized on this and sent a spinning crimson blade toward earless. The attack caught earless in the center of its back. He stumbled at the wound that bit into bone and lost the rhythm. It was over after that. One two three blades struck earless' body and chopped him into gory pieces.
I watched dumbfounded at the display, I could hear Hermione munching on spark pods toward my right.
"Gruesome," she muttered under her breath. I nodded in agreement.
One arm cackled madly and leapt over a fireball, his lack of an arm wasn't slowing him down any. The big guy had taken several bolts of lightning before it managed to scramble behind a wall for cover. Guts was slower than the rest. The injuries sustained in the first trial were taking their toll.
One of the sets of walking teeth managed to catch him on a leg and bit down, the metal death mashed relentlessly. Blood spurted from the wound and we could hear bone crack even from our hidden scrying charms.
The great big bastard stood up from cover and picked up the wall effortlessly. He hurled it at the trap, and crushed it flat before he stalked up to guts and drove a fist into its face so hard its head bounced off the dirt, crushed beyond recognition in a single blow.
The trap the big guy threw twisted and reformed into a twirling bladed mass of dismemberment. We watched as the biggest avarta managed to catch one of the twisting blades and proceeded to lift and spin the trap around itself before flinging it in the general direction of one arm. Its hands were bloody, but all the fingers seemed to be intact.
One arm jumped backward and narrowly avoided the spinning death trap. The blades buzzed and hummed and leapt outward at him. He back peddled and flung magic arcs of crimson at the tornado of death. The magic seemed to splash harmlessly against them. One bit of magic had been caught on the tip of a blade and was sent ricocheting out into the spectators. An avarta caught it square in the chest, and collapsed in a fountain of blood. The crowd roared its approval.
One eye darted amongst the traps, his pulsing mess of a face dribbled blood from the strain of his movements. Our guy, for lack of a better word, kicked one eye in the head on his blind side. He went tumbling in the dirt, splayed outward and dazed. Our guy stalked forward and summoned something like an axe made of the dark red energy common to his people.
He hefted the blade and brought it downward, one eye narrowly avoided the attack by rolling to his side. He got onto all fours now and scrambled backward, trying to put room between himself and our guy. The one we were 'rooting' for stalked forward, quick but not too quick. I understood what he was doing almost immediately and watched in horror stricken fascination as he herded his opponent backward straight into the path of chomping metal teeth.
The trap closed around his neck first and bit so deep the teeth nearly touched, the next bite was to the back of the head, we could hear the skull break. The last bite decapitated one eye completely.
"He was playing with him." I reached over and grabbed a few spark pods from Mione. She merely nodded in agreement and continued watching.
Our avarta stood off by himself on one edge of the arena, the great big bastard turned to look at him for a moment before looking back to one arm. The avarta in question roared at his bigger opponent and ran toward him. Slashes of crimson filled the air, thick and sparking, as one arm attacked and ran at the same time.
The biggest avarta jumped to the side to avoid most of them, and let a few hit him. Lines of blood formed on his thick arms where the magic struck but the bastard didn't even seem to notice them. One arm leapt into the air over a dozen feet before he would have reached his larger foe and spun with both feet forward. The double kick landed square in the big bastard's face. One arm began to roar but stopped abruptly at the site before him. He hadn't noticed as he'd spun and landed, but the big one hadn't moved. The kick hadn't even managed to make him take a single step back.
With one impossibly long and thick arm, the largest avarta reached forward and snatched one arm by the head. He pulled the wounded avarta forward and dug his fingers into the beaten creatures stump. This illicited a howl of pain that was cut short with a blow to the ribs. We could hear bone cracking again. One more strike to the same spot and one arm fell limp and dead.
The great big monster howled and roared. It beat the thick muscle on its chest and turned to face the only remaining avarta. They locked eyes and glared hatefully at each other, just as the metal plate was struck with a ringing gong.
3.
The two of us shared a look as the last avartas were led from the arena. "If those … people were any stronger magically…"
"I know, they're a vicious lot. I knew they were blood thirsty, but I didn't think it went so far even amongst themselves."
"Could you imagine a bag full of those traps, shrunken and then dropped into a battle field from overhead? The sheer chaos that would cause…" Hermione's words trailed off at the thought, and in fact she grew a tad pale as her imagination ran away from her.
I pulled her into my lap and held her before I spoke. " I know love, that's why we're trying to eliminate them as an enemy as quickly and as peacefully as we can."
She snorted bitterly at that. "With a fight to the death."
I shrugged my shoulders. "They've made several crucial mistakes. The first was assuming I'd went full out in that battle with them ten days ago. The second was giving me time to heal. But the worst was asking to fight me in the first place. They are strong, and powerful, but they don't know who they're messing with."
I kissed her then and she relaxed into me. The following few hours provided a distraction we needed from all the bloodshed. We were so… absorbed with one another that we nearly missed the start of the end of it.
Hermione had only caught a heated glance at the scrying screen for a second, and nearly ignored it in the heat of the moment, but relented finally when the scarred avarta's voice filled our room.
"Bloody nasty things ruin the mood."
I grinned at her and kissed her again as we both disentangled from each other andscooted forward to watch. "You were getting tired anyway, I can tell these things."
She huffed at me, and pulled the nearby blanket around her shoulders as her cheeks tinged themselves pink. "Not my fault you're an insatiable animal."
"I can't help myself," I whispered into her ear, "just the effect you have on me love."
She shivered and sent me a mock glare, "behave yourself or we'll end up missing it." From the smile that bloomed at the corners of her mouth I doubted she'd care all that much.
I snapped off a crisp salute as best I could sitting starkers on the bed, "yes ma'am!"
She laughed and pushed me slightly before pulling me close again so we could both lean forward and watch.
It didn't take long for the avarta to ruin the cheerful mood between the two of us. We watched as the last two combatants were lead out of the big hut and down toward the arena once more. The one we were rooting for, and the big guy that had literally punched someone to death. I took stock of both of them and wondered briefly if this was the time, if we should act now. I almost got up to get dressed but stopped myself at the last moment.
I could go, rig the fight from a distance. An invisible piercer delivered at just the right moment would end the fight, and no one would be the wiser. I sat there, trembling with indecision until Hermione spoke.
"We just have to deal with the situation as it comes love, interfering now could be disastrous if you were discovered. I know you're good, but you've always been better at blowing stuff up as opposed to slinking around in the shadows. Plus we still don't know if the charms woven into that old armor is any more effective than a freshly cast spell. You might light up like a neon sign in their eyes. We simply can't know without testing it."
I scowled in mild frustration but nodded. "We really should have asked Svenwhick to test it. I'm sure their eyes work about the same way."
She nodded and hugged me. "We will the next time we see him, just in case." I kissed her on top of the head and focused on the coming fight.
The two of us sat and watched with rapt attention as the scarred avarta began to speak again. He was grinning nastily and spinning his hammer absently in his hands. It was odd that I'd never seen avarta use weapons. The Oldfather had once used a blade of fire, but he didn't seem to be the best example of how avarta truly were, but now as I watched, both of the combatants were wielding weapons. The big one had a simple handle with a blob of metal attached at the end. The blob was prickly for lack of a better word. dripping spikes dotted the entire surface, but there were spots where edges had been sharpened on it at as, seemingly at random. It reminded me distinctly of a mace, but with a more random design on the head.
The avarta I'd spoken to briefly was holding what looked a bit like a sword, and a giant spike. there was no guard, and not much of a handle, but a long thin tube of metal with a point. I could just make out that the last half of the shaft was flattened slightly into a wedge shape, and the last third of it was flattened and edged like a proper sword blade. I suppose you could use it both like a sword and a blunt weapon if you knew what you were doing.
The scarred avarta's words filled our room as it began to speak in the deep barking gravel they all seemed to communicate in. "And here we have it! The last trial, the final test. The best we had to put forward, facing one another like our grandfather's did before them. Who will win? Who will the gods of combat and blood select next to lead our great people?" The crowd roared and shouted, several fights broke out between different members of the group, which only led to more cheering. These things would have paid good money to watch the Spanish inquisition at work.
The big guy flexed his arms and screamed, the veins in his chest and arms bulging. The one I'd spoken to, the one that wanted a fight to the death with me, merely stood and watched. His entire body quivered in hatred and anticipation. He didn't seem to be one for show boating, and let his actions speak for him. He was a heartless killer like the rest of his people, but he seemed to possess more control than the vast majority of them.
The scarred avarta began speaking again. "There is no time limit for this contest. These two will go at each other until one or both of them are dead. And if both of them die, we get to do this all over again!" The crowd roared and cheered at that. "Now, the arena with shrink, and change shape. Fire with leap upward from the ground, and acid pools with appear and disappear at random. With the ground constantly shifting, they must keep moving. Standing still in one place will ensure death from the dirt itself." It grinned wickedly and hefted its hammer. The scarred announcer looked at the final two. "You boys ready to get on with it
then?" Huh, I guess that answered that question. I'd had no clue on the gender of the great big bastard until now. To me they all looked male and angry, but I suppose a few of them were female, the ones bent over in the crowd at least.
The big bastard roared and thumped his chest again. Our avarta merely growled and nodded shortly. The scarred one nodded sagely, chuckling and grinning wickedly. "Then so be it! Let the final trial begin!" it hefted the hammer and brought it down on the metal plate.
Our avarta didn't waste a moment. He turned and flung himself at the big guy instantly. He was fast, faster than he'd shown so far. The big avarta brought up his weapon and attempted to deflect the blows raining down on him. He managed to knock a few aside, but several struck home. His shoulder was pierced, and a slash to his face left a line of blood between his eyes. Our's pulled back to strike again but had to leap backward as a huge gout of flame shot up between them, and then chased them in opposite directions.
They circled around the arena, jumping out of the way of the elements the very ground was spouting at them. Our avarta jooked left and right, nearly a blur as the ground tore up around him. He leapt up high in the air and twisted. With a powerful throw, he sent the strange spike of a weapon hurtling through the air, straight at his opponent. The bigger avarta twisted while running and narrowly avoided having the spike sink into its side. The spike got caught on an arm instead and stuck there quivering. It roared and pulled the spike free before flinging it wide.
It turned and started barreling straight toward him. Our avarta held out a hand and summoned the spike with a bit of crimson energy. Interesting, I hadn't seen any of them employ any kind of magic other than combat based before. He caught the strange blade and brought it up in just enough time to block a blow that caused him to slide backward in the dirt. With all of the fire and explosions, the arena was growing quite murky. Sometimes they were only shadows in the dust. Every few moments a gust of wind, magical in nature I assumed, would blow through and scatter the dust. the big one was hammering blows down on our's and roaring in anger. Hermione and I watched in object fascination. The creature's strength was enormous. Blow after blow, enough that would have turned any human into a fine paste was struck and in turn blocked.
The big bastard began to glow red, leaking magical energy as its anger grew. It seemed to pulse, muscles bulged and it grew bigger still. It swung one more time and the spike in our avarta's hand snapped, breaking into two pieces around the middle. He leapt backward and flipped in midair, planting a kick to his opponent's face as he did so. He flipped backward two, three, four more times before coming right to the edge of the arena. I could see bits of flame licking at the bottom, if he took one more step backward they would flare up and fry him. He stood his ground and watched.
The big one was angry, mad enough to have put conscious though aside for now and charged him. Our avarta screamed and roared at him, and began to fling spells in rapid succession. Blades and spikes of crimson. A nasty looking ball of spiky red plasma, this one stuck in his foe's shoulder, and tearing ethereal claws. Some of them struck home, but many more glanced off to the right and left. I smirked, I was pretty sure I knew what he was doing. The ball of plasma hadn't done anything yet, and the big bastard seemed to not have noticed it.
At the last possible second, our avarta leapt sideways out of the path of his charging opponent. It was too big, running to fast and with far to much bulk to turn in time or stop. It slammed into the edge of the arena, a plume of fire shot upward into the air, consuming the hulking beast, and detonating the plasma like bomb.
If I didn't know better I'd swear I heard the explosion through the scrying screen and in real life too. Perhaps it was only my imagination, but it seemed so. Our avarta had stopped running now, only moving just enough to avoid the fire that still jumped up from the ground in places.
The explosion had been massive, and a giant wall of flame was still shooting into the air. The smoke and dirt had obscured that entire side of the arena. Our avarta circled back and forth slowly, watching to see what would happen. The fire of the barrier died back down quickly, resuming its flickering line along the base. the smoke began to clear and we could all see a quivering figure within the smoke and dirt.
The big bastard staggered out of the ash cloud and I heard Hermione gasp in shock. both eyes on the left side were missing, as was the arm. Most of the skin was crispy, and the hair like bristles that covered its body were completely burned away. We could see bone poking through several of the wounds. Most of the teeth hand been blasted out of the left side of its mouth, and most of the bone on that side was visible as well. It looked like a smoking inferi. what a horrible thought that was. Inferi were nasty enough without adding in an avarta's natural strength and ferocity. I remembered the undead trolls we'd had to fight back on Earth, probably be a lot like that but worse.
He staggered toward our avarta, his mouth worked open and close as if he were trying to speak. The remaining eyes narrowed into hateful slits. You could practically see the anger and hatred bubbling off him in waves. I imagine that its hatred was the only thing keeping it alive at this point. Our avarta was still cautious, he hadn't let his guard down at all. The one armed avarta was quivering and shaking before he threw his head back and howled. The sound was stranger than normal, some of the air escaped via a hole in its neck. It began a stumbling run before picking up speed. We watched, dumbfounded as this thing found the strength to continue the fight. No human could have pushed that level of punishment aside, the behemoth should have been unconscious with shock, and on his way to the grave.
He jumped forward and swung with his one burnt arm. Our avarta avoided the blow, weaving out of the way of the slow and clumsy blows. He was playing now. He reached forward and stuck several fingers into one of the creature's chest wounds, and yanked backward, pulling a piece of charred meat with it. The big avarta screamed in pain, frustration, and rage. Our avarta jumped backward and brought the charred meat up to his lips before taking a bite, a wicked evil grin on his face.
The burned one sent out a gust of crimson energy from his mouth, the attack was sloppy, bits of energy leaked out of the side that lacked teeth, and several streams of the stuff escaped through holes within his muzzle. The victorious one ran forward next to the attack, along the blind side of his opponent, and drove one of the broken ends of his spike into the burned eye socket. The one armed and fried avarta jerked violently as the bladed end of the spike sunk deep into its head and made a mess of the interconnected nodes that acted as his brain. He twitched again, the crimson attack from his mouth stuttered and cut on and off momentarily before stopping completely. He took one trembling step forward and collapsed into the dirt, the impact of the fall drove the spike in even deeper.
Our avarta raised his hands into the air and roared, the crowd echoed him. The leader had been chosen.
Hermione and I glanced at each other at that final display. The sheer animal ferocity that went into the fighting was insane, but it showed time and again that they had the ability to fight tactically as well. That was ultimately how he'd won, not with strength or anger, but with strategy. She looked pale, suddenly frightened. I pulled her into my lap and held her.
"I'll be fine Hermione," I whispered to her, as my eyes stayed focused on the scrying screen, and my mind began to worry about my own coming fight, "I'll be just fine."
A/N;
Another chapter down, and not many to go now folks. I hoped everybody enjoyed the avarta battle royale. Just wanted to let you guys know, that after this one, there's approximately two chapters left to go. After that I'm going to be taking a break from the fanfiction stuff for a bit. Not too long mind you, I plan on coming back, but I've gotta take some time to work on some original stuff,
The poll will go up with the next chapter as to what I should do next, and I'll take the tally before the final chapter is posted, so that way I can let you all know what I'll be working on next.
Have a wonderful day,
Harkon.