Rastislav
patreon
Arc 8 Chapter VIII: The Arena
🕑 Added 2024-10-07 22:42:17 +0000 UTC(General POV)
"Citizens of the Imperial City, be welcomed back to this grand temple of valor!" The announcer spoke over the loud voices of the crowd, his own words enhanced by some magic artifact "Today's festivities have been blessed by our very own Emperor, Titus Mede II, in honor of the saviors of our lives and aspirations, the Twin Banes of Alduin!"
The rowdiness of the crowd rose to such levels that even the artifact failed to overpower their collective voices.
But the announcer was undeterred and merely waited a few moments "Your devotion and enthusiasm is, as always, delightful to behold!" He looked to the VIP balcony and saw Titus raise his hand "And so, with the approval of our mighty Emperor we need tarry no longer!"
"On the northern side of the arena we have the representative of the blue team!" The man's voice rose "You know him, you love him, the orc, the beast himself, the slayer of minotaurs, give it up for Gorgash!"
Said orc's fans went wild.
"And facing our beloved veteran, coming from the south and representing the yellow team is a newcomer! A bard from Skyrim, a veteran of the Battle of the World's End, the writer of that delightful ballad 'Alduin's Doom'! Give it up for Marcooo of Soltiude!"
A slight silence descended as the northern armor clad Altmer stepped into the arena with a cheerful grin on his face, feeling only slightly awkward by the lack of cheers before a wave of noise from their sudden roar struck him so hard he almost doubled over.
"This is but the beginning of today's grand showing my dear viewers so do not bet all your money away just yet!" There was a grin in the announcers voice "And without further ado, let the battle begin!"
(Reyvin's POV)
My eye was twitching quite rapidly by this point as the stupid cunt begun fighting the unreasonably large orc wielding a duo of axes "That little shit." I mutter with annoyance.
"A friend of yours, Lord Dagoth?" One of the nobles/councilors given the honor of the emperor's own terrace asked "Do you believe he will lose?"
"Hardly, Lord Anvil." I contain a sneer "I am merely annoyed he did not tell us he would be doing this."
Gerold Anvil, Lord of the city of Anvil and one of Titus' loyalists, nodded "He is a member of this new... Dragon Banner, yes?"
"Concerned, Count?" I quirk an eyebrow.
"Not currently, no." He smiles lightly, his eyes focused on the flurry of blows below us "Merely questioning the prudence of founding a new organization at this juncture. Groups created by such.... auspicious personages tend to retain a certain level of pride and influence well into the centuries."
"A valid concern." I nod, marking the man just ever so slightly up in my estimations "But we felt it best to both reward and guide the veterans of such a grand conflict into doing something productive instead of risking them drowning in obscurity and creating problems later."
"Ah" The man nods his 'surrender' "A reasonable argument, my lord. Though I must ask, is the Dragon Banner not a force under Lady Minthara?"
"Fishing for information already, Gerald?" I turn to him with light smirk and a raised eyebrow.
"Merely concerned for the future, Reyvin." He smirks back, the 'courtesy' we shared yet another silent agreement "Planning around such things is far easier when one is thoroughly informed, after all."
Yeah, as if I would make it so easy "Then in the interest of being sporting let us just say that two heads are better than one and leave it at that."
It takes him a moment but his eyes soon light up with interest "Most interesting indeed..." He hums "If anything, the future shall be most entertaining to observe."
"As it always is." I smile thinly and we both look back to the arena, just in time to see Marco murderstroke the orc in the neck with the guard of his life-leeching sword, the poor Orsimer folding like so much parchment under the sudden force.
There was a short silence as the orc didn't get up but then Marco proceeded to begin healing him and the crowd went absolutely wild.
"A Mer of the people it would seem." Gerald comments.
I huff "He has his moments."
(Meanwhile, Minthara's POV)
Having grown completely bored with the fight I decided to make my rounds and speak with Titus' councilors, asking for their advice about whom to ally and whom to weaken while the opportunity was still fresh.
It was when I approached the Imperial Battlemage, standing next to a very young looking Dunmer girl that I found myself in my current situation.
"By Azura, by Azura, by Azura!" The girl clapped her hands excitedly "It is you! It is really you!"
Caladon, who I've found was her father, was currently staring off into the distance, his eyes completely unseen under the shadow which had overtaken them.
(Back to Reyvin)
Suppressing the sudden and inexplicable desire to laugh my absolute ass off, I observed a Breton spellsword get nearly disemboweled by a Redguard dervish, the dual scimitars turning the poor fucker into something barely above mincemeat.
"Not healing that one I don't think." Scorch observed from atop my shoulder.
That the crowd was even louder than when Marco healed his opponent was quite indicative of the true nature of the Arena "The Imperials sure do love their bloodsport." My eyebrow twitches "And speaking of bloodsport" I round on my newest guest "How can I assist you?"
The admittedly beautiful woman trying to stealthily draw my attention flinches but manages to control herself quite skillfully after only a moment and casually leans onto the balustrade next to me "Your perceptiveness does you credit, my lord."
The woman's voice is like silk but I had long since gotten used to those who abuse seduction for their ends and merely raise my brow at the attempt "Very slow to learn your lessons, aren't you?"
The vampire I spared yesterday bows her head slightly "Apologies, old habits die hard."
"Especially in the case of someone refusing to remain dead." Scorch immediately quips and her constant smirk cracks just a little bit
"Speak your desire, vampire." My order lacks all my previous amusement. The fact that she had infiltrated this place meant she probably mindfucked someone and that was only ok to do against assholes, or when I did it.
Yes, I am a hypocrite. I know and I do not care.
"Of course." She visibly holds back a barbed response "First I wish to thank you for your mercy during the parade, my staring was rather impertinent." What an asskisser "And I have been tasked with establishing contact with your new faction in the capital by the Ancients."
"Your gratitude is accepted." I note blandly "Though do keep your nose clean as I do not give third chances."
"Of course." She bows her head.
"As for the contact your... order" I sneer "Wishes to establish, I trust that you brought an adequate offering for me to even consider it after your foolish attempts with the Volkihar. Also do introduce yourself, calling you generic vampire hag in my head is becoming tiresome."
Oho, almost had her there judging by the twitching of her fingers. Sadly, she has more wits than that "I am Isabella, late of Chorrol, my lord." It is so funny watching someone so utterly furious trying to appear polite "And I have... procured information you may find valuable."
"Already currying favor, are we?" I smirk and she twitches, this is too bloody fun "Not a very good showing for an order now is it? But do tell me what you have, it would be rather... uncouth of me to ignore you outright."
The now named Lady Isabella pulls out a small booklet and offers it to me without a word.
Rolling my eyes at the blatant attempt at information gathering I flick the booklet open and begin flipping through it at downright unpleasant speeds, skimming the whole thing in moments "Interesting." I mutter "I was going to have my own people investigate this but more important matters have been on my mind."
She looks like she wants to ask me if it is enough but holds herself back.
Sufficiently amused I decide to have some small mercy for now "Your offering is acceptable, have a contact sent to my manor so that we may continue other beneficial dialogue."
"Your generosity honors us." The woman bows and gets the fuck away from me.
"Got all that, Alor?" I ask the hooded Falmer.
"Of course, my lord." He nods "Would you like me to begin planning a dismantlement, or do you prefer them as your puppets?"
"Puppets will do for now." I hum as I consider the rather extensive notes on the investigation into my parents' deaths that had just been handed to me "Unless we find that they are trying to play me for a fool of course, then we stake them into the sun."
"As is right and proper." Alor nods somewhat smugly "Only those vampires blessed by yourself should remain under the sun, no?"
I huff and give him a wry look "You've grown cheeky."
"I learn from the best." He bows his head.
"Damn straight." I nod in approval.
(Back to Minthara)
"While your offer is... appreciated." I feel my lip twitch in disgust at the fat man who had just all but propositioned me "I find myself entangled in other duties for the foreseeable future."
"Of course, young lady." The fifty or so looking fat piece of lard chuffs "Do be sure to use my company for your band's supplies though. I wouldn't want our honorable savior to be undersupplied due to subpar partnerships."
Looking far too smug about himself, the pig walks off.
"Skirnir." I speak in a dead tone.
"Aye, Dragonborn?" Stormcloak looks up from the arena.
"Remind me to have Reyvin ruin that little shit." I grit out.
The man guffaws "Aye, Dragonborn."
(Aaand back to Daddy D)
"Ladies and gentlemen of this beloved city!" The announcer drones on as the final fight approaches "Today has been a most exciting showing by our valiant fighters in the arena! Champions both old and new have spilt their blood both for you, their adoring fans, and in the honor of the Divines and our Emperor!"
"Really laying it on thick, isn't he?" I ask the man sitting next to me.
"It is his job." Titus chuckles "And it isn't like the crowd is full of philosophers wo will question a bit of encouragement."
"Bread and circuses." I mutter with an amused snort "Keep them entertained and go around them in the background."
"A classic strategem, I know" The Emperor of Tamriel chuckles and turns to me with a smirk "But why change what works?"
"Why indeed?" I hum and tune back into the announcer's rambling.
"Coming in from the south is our newest dark horse. Representing the yellow team, the high elf of the north, the wielder of thunder and blade, and a mind as artistic in slaughter as it is in music! Give it up fooooor Marcoo!"
The moment the slaughter bit gets mentioned I see the poor dumbass wince in disgust, oh I am so annoying him for this later!
"And coming in from the north, the last standing of the blue team and the Champion of this Arena! Let us all give our applause for Roderik of Daggerfall! A fallen knight, a slayer, an undefeated lord of battle! Let us see if our newcomer can face the veteran of a hundred challenges!"
I observe the fully armored Breton for a moment and then shake my head.
"Losing faith in your apprentice?" Titus asks as the two begin to clash after some words.
"The Breton is powerful." I note "And has honed his people's instinct for magic resistance to a dangerous level. Marco lacks a weapon to pass his armor reliably."
"I personally think your friend will manage to surprise us." Titus hums.
"Oh?" I look at him with some curiosity "Willing to bet on that?"
"You would bet against your own?" Titus chuckles.
I shrug "The Breton isn't nearly stupid enough to actually kill him, so why not?"
"Hah!" The Emperor barks a laugh "Very well, mark me down for fifty thousand."
"Conservative" I mock playfully and we turn to look at the fight.
And just as I predicted, while Marco does put up a good fight Roderik simply tanks his attacks while delivering blows too heavy to immediately heal and slowly building up to a win.
His pommel smashes into Marco's face, sending him sprawling into the sand and the Breton momentarily looks like he is about to finish him off but instead grabs him and begins to carry him out of the Arena.
"Exactly as I have said, not an idiot." I point out as Titus grumbles.
"And what would you have done if he was an idiot?" Commander Maro asks from nearby.
"Then I'd have made his insides into outsides, duh." I note blandly and get up, ignoring the stares on my back as I began walking out while the announcer went on and on and on about the heroics and sportsmanship displayed.
It is as I leave the terrace that I am met with Minthara who was currently busying herself beating the absolute shit out of some poor fat sod.
"Having fun?" I ask as I approach.
She turns to me with a dead look in her eyes "I need my ears cleansed."
"That bad huh?" I blink.
The look she gave me did not give me much confidence in the survival of a number of people. Not that I wasn't going to twist the knife, that just wouldn't be sporting now would it?
Comments
Ryan Helmbold
The pov shifts were really well done in this chapter. Felt like watching a game of thrones episode fekin awesome
Ryan Helmbold
Hahahahaha oh man minthara gettin a fan
