Blood and Fortune
During the strategy sessions called out between the cells, Sophiya and Raelyn had given a good description of the arena. So the surrounding high walls, the glow globe lighting, the tiered rows of stone benches, the sandy floor, the pits, even the carved frescoes in the walls depicting beholders blasting through various foes with eye rays were similar to the mental image Kuhl had built up in his head. What he hadn't fully imagined was the buzzing, anticipatory, energy of the crowd and how it would fray on his nerves as he prepared himself for the coming contest. As a former member of the Evereskan Tomb Guard, a survivor of an escape from the Underdark, and everything that had happened between then, he was no stranger to a life or death struggle. Yet, for its own sanity, the mind forgot the full terror of it - the dry throat, the sweating palms, the bouts of nausea and dizziness, and the feel of shivery weakness in muscles that would soon be required to give all their strength.
He took a deep breath, held it, then let it out with a whispered prayer.
"Sehanine, be with me and aid me in protecting those who fight by my side."
He felt the presence of his goddess then and it brought him a measure of focused calm. Unlike in his cell, he once again had access to magic. Now that he was unshackled, he could even conceivably step into the mists and teleport up to the tiered seating among the crowd. But not only would that be abandoning Sky, Esvele, and the others it would be very unlikely to lead to escape given all the guards with crossbows positioned at intervals on the arena wall.
"LADIES AND GENTLESIRS!" a magically enhanced voice boomed out over the arena.
The general hum of conversation faded away. Even at a distance, Kuhl recognized the speaker standing at the podium on the elevated platform atop the wall. The sun-elf had been part of the group that 'rescued' him from a bone saw wielding mind flayer after all. Dressed in a fitted velvet doublet of vivid green embroidered with a chaotic pattern of falling leaves in glowing golden thread, Quid's flamboyance fit his role as master of ceremonies.
"By which I mean all you disreputable Skulkers, whether human, orc, bugbear, goblin, dwarf, and every conceivable or unconceivable mix between," the sun-elf called out, amplified voice more conversational now that he had the attention of the crowd.
General laughter, clapping, and hoots erupted at the statement.
"IT IS TIME FOR BLOOD AND FORTU…"
The raucous roar that erupted from the crowd, the thunderous clapping and stamping of feet, drowned out even the magically enhanced voice of the announcer as he yelled.
"Place your bets," Quid went on once the cheering had died down. "Which of these individuals do you think will survive? Will it be one of the trio of Waterdhavians youths?"
Down in the arena the three youths, Claudio, Arthright, and the woman of Shou descent, Xia, stared around in wide-eyed panic. One was the scion of a noble house with so many older siblings he stood to inherit very little, another his merchant class friend, and the last a server in a tea house they frequented. Together they had resolved to enter Undermountain to change their fate by finding some of the supposed abundant treasure in the Dungeon of the Mad Mage. Fate instead led them here - to an arena full of spectators expecting to soon see their blood spilled on the sand covered floor. Kuhl's earlier prayer for aid in protecting others had been made with these three primarily in mind.
"Or maybe you want to go with age and experience," the sun elf said. "In that case put your money on this veteran captain of the City Watch."
Jeering boos as well as foodstuff rained down towards the gray haired and bearded Staget, who stared up defiantly. None of the thrown objects even came close to reaching him, but it was clear the residents of Skullport possessed little love for the Waterdhavian Watch and enjoyed expressing their disdain. The paladin recalled the words the half-elf Sial had spoken to the mind flayer then.
"There are more elegant ways of controlling a population..."
Blood and Fortune actually served a purpose. A vital one. On the surface the seasons and the associated festivals marking their comings and goings drove change and anticipation. But here, deep underground, it was day after day, month after month, of gloomy sameness. Events were needed to break up the monotony and give the residents something to anticipate. The Xanathar had chosen to sate this need by giving them Blood and Fortune, a grisly game of brutality and violence.
"Or perhaps you would bet on one of your own?" Quid said. "A fellow Skulker sentenced to an appearance in Blood and Fortune?"
The dog bite victim he spoke about cringed and shrank down on himself, trying to make himself as small as possible. He had kept to himself during their shared stint of imprisonment. Kuhl didn't even know his name.
"Then there is Lady Esvele Rosznar," the sun-elf's amplified voice called out. "I'll give you a little secret the oddsmakers don't know. There is more to her than meets the eye! Anyone who places winning bets on her now owes me a percentage."
In this manner, Quid continued through the introductions. The female halfling came next followed by Kuhl himself. His announcement brought the same catcalls, hissing, and booing, but also a measure of whispering, pointing, and handshaking among the crowd. He apparently elicited an increase in betting activity, making him wonder whether gamblers put more money on his survival or death, and as always when wagering was involved, reminded him of poor Jimjar, fellow prisoner of Velkynvelve.
"And now Skulking spectators of Skullport," the sun-elf said in his magically enhanced voice. "I bring you a special treat. Blood and Fortune has given you orcs, it has given you hobgoblins, it has given you enough captured human adventurers from the Dungeon of the Mad Mage as to render them boring and mundane. Elves, from bronze and golden like myself to green, blue, gray and ebony, have been in plenty. But this is a first! I bring to you the ferocious feline, she of slashing claws and ripping teeth, the CAT GIRL of Waterdeeeep!"
The pandemonium of cheers, whistles, and clapping drowned out Sky's protest of being called a cat girl. Her tail lashed and she frantically waved both hands to get the crowd's attention, but gave up before the applause died down.
"Lastly, we have your survivors of the last Blood and Fortune," Quid went on. "Can they do it again? Many have, but most do not. I don't know about you all, but I think the flame-haired She-Devil Genasi and the white-haired Dark Deadliness have what it TAKES! PLACE YOUR BETS!"
Because she dyed her hair and had been imprisoned for a time, the 'She-Devil Genasi' currently had a strip of white growing at the roots of her 'flame-hair.' Not that anyone would notice with the tattoos twining along her limbs sparking blue as she flexed and stretched in her scant armor of crystalline dragon scales. There were benefits to being the offspring of a noble djinn, Sophiya had explained, among them greater access to magical items. All of these - her ring of warding, her ring of warmth, and her sword - had all been stolen upon her capture. But the enchanted ink suffusing her skin and enhancing her strength could not be taken from her.
Raelyn didn't even spare a glance at the sun-elf when he announced her as the 'white-haired Dark Deadliness,' and instead stared at the opposite end of the arena as she rolled her shoulders and neck. Back in their prison, she'd been all restless energy. Laying down she tossed and turned and upright she paced back and forth as much as the cell she shared with Sophiya allowed. Now she seemed to possess a strange calmness.
"But enough about them," the sun-elf called out, his enhanced voice suddenly dismissive. "Let's introduce the representatives of the XANATHAR GUILD!"
Amid the eruption of cheering and clapping, the oversized set of double doors on the opposite side of the arena slid open. A stylized beholder sculpture was mounted above them. This stone carving represented the opposing goal for their team. When Blood and Fortune started the focus of Kuhl's team would be throwing the ball through the gaping maw of it as many times as possible while trying to keep their opponents from scoring by doing the same with the goal mounted behind them. Which suddenly seemed an impossibility with only the emergence of their first opponent.
It was a minotaur.
Kuhl had seen one other before, Taus Thunderhoof, member of the Troupe from Beyond the Pale. He had witnessed the sheer strength and power of that individual as he sent the aerialists of his troupe flying through the air with a toss of his head and saw that strength and power applied in battle when they fought together to defend Uluvin from an undead horde. Disconcertingly, this minotaur entering the arena seemed to be just as massive and muscular as Taus and having one broken horn likely didn't adversely affect his strength in the least.
"Umpok!" Quid announced
A simple name, nothing more, no moniker, but then a minotaur really needed no more introduction to be impressive.
"Nadia the UNBENT," the sun-elf called out next.
A familiar very tall, pale woman with a swath of black make-up swiped across her face at eye level followed Umpok. The leader of the Dead Eyes watch point of Undermountain pointed at Kuhl, made a fist, and slammed that fist into her opposing palm.
"I worked so hard to get you in here half-elf," she yelled across the intervening space. "Do not disappoint me!"
"It seems Nadia has history with the half-elf," Quid said. "Sorry to anyone who bet on him to survive."
Scattered frustrated moans actually did break out from the audience along with thrown up hands and a shaking of heads. Kuhl thought he recognized one such individual who did so, a half-orc sitting next to a bugbear that he thought might be the pair who escorted him to the mind flayer, but it was hard to be sure at a distance.
"This is actually good," Raelyn said. "Nadia is tall and relatively quick, making her a threat both in scoring and in defense. Draw her to you and away from the ball."
Kuhl huffed a resigned sigh at the idea of further drawing more focus of a crazed dangerous mad woman onto himself, but fixed the leader of the Dead Eyes with a stare and gave her a nod. Nadia gave him a feral grin in response and for better or worse, she would likely be targeting him when the game began.
More of their opponents came into the arena accompanied by the cheers of the crowd and fanfare from Quid - a large female orc named Charworl, a bald, muscular duergar named Dourgrim, a bugbear named Nazzick, a half-ogre named Groz, and a blue scaled dragonborn named Draak who put on a show by letting his breath spark with a hint of crackling electricity. The crowd leapt to its feet and showed its appreciation with a burst of clapping.
"Draak is slow, but strong," Sophiya warned. "And he can take several down with his breath at any time. Only once, but that once can turn the tide. Watch out for him."
"Never been hit by lightning," Sky said, cocking her head thoughtfully. "Wonder what it feels like?"
"Like something to be avoided, I'd imagine," Staget mumbled.
Despite his show of defiance to the crowd he looked pale faced and nervous watching the dragonborn.
A woman in tight crimson leather armor reinforced with silver chain links that snaked around her body came out next. She wore a matching helm with nose and cheek guards that hid most of her features, but some of her platinum blond hair spilled out beneath it and down her back.
"The Mysterious Paladin of Pain," the sun-elf announced. "True identity, UNKNOWN!"
The silver and crimson clad woman snapped the whip she wielded with a flick of her wrist and the crack of it cut through all the other sound in the arena and made the crowd fall silent for an instant.
"Remember, she is actually the most dangerous," Raelyn muttered. "You take someone down or slow them with an injury and she, as their healer, brings them back up. We realized her importance too late last time. If you have a chance, push her into one of the pits."
There was no way the 'Paladin of Pain' could have heard the statement, but another crack of the whip seemed to invite anyone to try and do what the drow asked. A rhythmic chant then started in the audience. It began with a scattering of groups, but as more joined in the chant grew more cohesive and louder.
"Ash Mite, Ash Mite, Ash Mite…"
"By the Dark Mother," Raelyn growled. "They do this every time? Someone please kill this goblin and his pet!"
A goblin did enter the arena, wearing iridescent mail made from what appeared to be dragon scales. He rode in on the saddle atop a large wolf, not as big as the wolf form Mialee took when she shifted, but big enough for an armored goblin to ride comfortably. The wolf rider raised a blunted and padded lance high and the crowd broke off their chanting to cheer. Then the wolf pivoted and trotted to one side of the arena before spinning again. Sand churned as wolf and rider sped towards the central pit, goblin bent low in the saddle with his lance shouldered and aimed at an imaginary target. Before reaching the edge they leapt. Tentacles from the roper in the pit lashed out, trying to catch the pair, but instead caught only the empty air behind them and the wolf and rider landed safely on the far side to skid to a halt in the sand.
"Ash Mite, Ash Mite, Ash Mite," the chanting started again as the wolf loped over to join his fellow teammates.
"That goblin is named Ash Mite?" Sky asked.
"The wolf is Ash and the goblin is Mite," Sophiya explained.
"Oh," the tabaxi said, nodding. "That makes sense."
The chanting broke off as the last member of the opposing team entered, a bare chested, handsome male drow with a shimmering silver dragon tattoo snaking around his body. Muscles rippled under the ebony skin of his lithe frame and his bright white hair was pulled back into a ponytail. He wore tight fitting gray trousers and a pair of steel gauntlets with the faces of monstrous ogres engraved in gold on each one.
"Lolthite," he called out over the distance.
Raelyn stiffened in response.
"Renounce your demon goddess. Embrace the faith of her son," the tattooed drow yelled. "And live."
"Dark Mother," Raelyn cursed under her breath, loud enough for Kuhl to hear, but the male dark elf was likely too far to make out her words. "Chaos provide me the opportunity to strike this one down in your name."
"What was that?" the tattooed drow asked, making a show of cocking his head and holding up a gauntleted hand to his ear. "Couldn't quite hear. Spider got your tongue?"
He laughed, flashed a brilliant white toothed smile, then slid on an eye slitted oval mask of glossy black metal inlaid with decorative silver whorls and slashes and flipped back to tumble in a series of back handsprings and cart wheels, ending in a crouch - a show for the crowd. They showed their appreciation with a bout of fierce clapping and whistles when he stood and raised a fist in the air.
"Kal'dir!" Quid announced with his magically enhanced voice. "With more taunts for her Dark Deadliness. Skulkers! This is going to be a Blood and Fortune to remember!"
The leathery flap of wings came from above as a large shape descended down from the recesses of the darkness of the immense cavern containing Skullport and into the glow of the arena. In the Underdark Kuhl had once seen the Wyrmsmith of Gracklstugh, a dragon, thankfully at a distance. This creature wasn't as large, had gray scales rather fiery red, and only a pair of hind legs rather than four. Its body was leaner and some sort of bone stinger tipped its prehensile tails. The half-elf had heard of these dragon-like beasts before, a wyvern. The creature gave a rasping hiss with a display of sharp teeth as it alighted atop the tower-like structure opposite the one where Quid called out his announcements and a massive half-ogre, bigger than even the one Kuhl's group would soon be facing on the opposing team, dismounted. He gave his wyvern a few rough, affectionate pats, then headed to one of the stone chairs atop the platform while his mount moved to curl up in one of the corners. Others were seated in some of the stone chairs already, the dwarf who had presided over the trial of the dog bite victim and the half-elf, Sial. The half-ogre settled his massive bulk among them. A few chairs still remained empty.
The crowd had gone absolutely quiet at the appearance of the wyvern, but now murmurs and whispers started again, growing in volume. But there seemed to be a lull in events. Everyone was waiting.
"Gather round," Raelyn called, motioning her hand in a circular motion. "Damn that arrogant son of a rothe sow. I'll skin his hide and have his shadow dragon tattoo stretched out in a frame and display it as a warning to any other uppity males who think to get insolent."
"Some of her men betrayed her and took his offer to renounce their goddess," Sophiya said, as if that excused the twisted, horrific punishment her drow not-friend wanted to inflict on the dark elf on the other team.
"I know what I said before in our prison," Raelyn continued, as if the genasi had not spoken. "That we could not win and that it was each for herself. But I had a vision when I asked for chaos to provide. I saw each of you, for an instant, not as you are, but as drow sisters. Not the mewling weak sisters of solidarity preached by the faithless Daughter of the Dark Mother, but sisters of rivalry, strong females, honed and tested against each other by their efforts to achieve any measure of power they could grasp. Yet there are times, of course, when even rivals must band together for a common purpose. Now is such a time."
"We aren't drow," the halfling, Samara said.
"Or all of us female," Staget added, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.
"Let her finish," Esvele said, holding up a quieting hand. "I think I see where she is going with this and agree, in principle anyway."
The human noble woman and drow shared a look and a nod.
"I knew what we faced," Raelyn said. "Overwhelming strength supported by the healing of their paladin. But I forgot, it is not strength that wins battles but cunning and will. Let us use that now to beat them and show them spider venom runs in our veins."
"Are speed and agility part of cunning and will?" Sky asked, tail lashing.
"They are," the drow said.
"Then I can do that," the tabaxi said, golden eyes bright.
"Don't know if spider venom runs in my veins," Esvele said, putting her hand out into the center of the group, "But to cunning and will."
"To cunning and will," Raelyn echoed, placing her hand atop the noblewoman's.
The genasi's hand quickly joined the other two and, one by one, most of the rest followed their lead.
"My blood runs with something different than spider venom," Samara said. "But I am plenty cunning."
She put her small hand in with the rest. Kuhl hesitated before joining them, feeling conflicted. He was a paladin of Sehanine Moonbow, the bitter enemy to Raelyn's Spider Goddess, Lolth. Yet the teachings of the moon goddess preached to seek your own destiny and be like the moonlit night, avoiding the blazing light of zealous good, and the utter darkness of evil. Hadn't he escaped the Underdark with the most unlikely of allies? Poor Sarith and Ront among them? With this in mind, he added his hand to the bundle of joined ones.
One team member still abstained.
"You're all crazy," the dog bite victim said, backing away with his palms raised as if to warn them all to stay away from him. "And all dead! No matter what you do. But not me. I just have to survive this once. I'm not part of your group."
The hissing, whispering of the crowd intensified and Kuhl looked up to see some of them pointing. He followed the direction of their fingers. Wisps of light swirling around an empty space on the tower-like structure where the wyvern had landed. Both the half-ogre and dwarf seated there leapt up from their stone chairs and made a show of clapping. The general audience followed suit, but it was not the raucous display seen with the introduction of each of the Xanathar team members, but applause by rote, doing the expected. The light continued to swirl and coalesce until a floating spherical creature formed, still translucent and hence not actually physically present, but clearly a live representation of an image being sent over a distance. It looked like the stuffed display of the beholder in Old Xoblob's shop, but the opening and closing maw of sharp teeth and roving gaze of its central eye and eyestalks made it much more terrifying.
"Skulkers," Quid called out. "The Xanathar has arrived! Teams take your marks! BLOOD AND FORTUNE is about to begin!"
I know what you are thinking... "What the heck did I just read?"
Have you heard the term, "It seemed like a good idea at the time?" Having played through Skullport and Blood and Fortune, I didn't like the blandness of either of them. So I wanted to go over the top. But then when I started writing this chapter I realized I dialed it up too much. Beholders have 11 eyes and the game of football, which I used to play a long long time ago, also has 11 players. So I got the not so bright idea of making my version of Blood and Fortune have 11 players. Not thinking, by the way, of how tedious it would be to introduce them all. But I had written myself into a corner, so I gave it my best effort.
Draak and Kal'dir are semi-canon, but I morphed and changed them a bit. They were 4th edition lieutenants of the Xanathar (along with Quid and Sial) and I figured they managed other arms of the crime empire, but participated in Blood and Fortune for their own amusement. If Kal'dir reminded you from Vega from Street Fighter, good eye. One of my long time online friends is Tixie Lix from when we were both Street Fighter 4 fanatics and she is the ultimate Vega fan. If you want to see really good fan art of a handsome, shirtless, evil and sadistic dude, type in 'Tixie Lix Vega' and you won't be disappointed, ha ha. She isn't a fantasy fan or a DnD fan, so she'll never read this fic, but the idea just came to me and so I went with it for my own amusement.
So, Blood and Fortune. I have some vague ideas of how the story beats will go, but I have quite likely bitten off way more than I can chew, ha ha! I just keep reminding myself, "This is a fic. Have fun with it. If it crashes and burns, so be it..."