I mentioned yesterday that today would be a busy day for me because it’s my little brother’s graduation day.
But, also, the most recent Nintendo Direct gave us more information on the latest Fire Emblem, including a release date (September 17, by the way).
Now, because of said busy day, I haven’t actually a chance to watch most of the Direct, though I have been able to read up on the things that happening, including that the new Fire Emblem is centred around some kind of gladiatorial-esque fighting tournament (which we may have actually known from previous information).
Inspired by that, and at least a little by that whole Death-maze thing in Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves, here’s some kind of gladiator-type thing for some reason…
© J.B. Norman — Published by Emona Literary Services™
“Kaaaaaaaat!” Dunstana cries, desperately holding her hat in place as she ducks under a swinging axe. “Help!”
The Sisters Darkstone find themselves in a completely novel setting, but some things really never change…
Somehow, for some reason, the Lords-Municipal of Porthaven decided that all the city’s young adventurers and pirates should be given the opportunity to be tossed into a big arena, left to their own devices, and forced to fight a seemingly endless horde of monsters, beasts, and guys with swords, dodging traps all the while.
Because…
Well, Kat’s not sure about that part, actually.
Because all politicians are scum, maybe?
She sighs before dashing over at Dunstana’s assailant.
She wishes she were old enough to vote.
She tackles him to the ground.
Just in time for a trapdoor to pop open beneath the sandy arena floor. She barely manages to roll clear, though her fallen enemy disappears into the floor with a yelp.
“Ow,” he groans a little while later when he hits bottom.
Luckily, the council of the Lords-Municipal and the casters they specifically brought in from the Magicological Academy have assured everyone involved that the whole arena is covered by a complex network of healing words that render lethal harm virtually impossible.
Kat doesn’t really like that virtually, she decides.
“Kat, look out!” Dunstana cries, reaching for her cork gun.
Kat ducks, just in time for Dunstana to send a cork right into the eye of the enemy trying to sneak up on her. Clutching his eye, he stumbles backwards.
Right into the still-open trapdoor.
“Well,” Kat pants, doubled over and struggling to catch her breath. “How’s everybody else doing?”
She glances around the arena, and it’s mostly a mess of dust and noise and people smacking each other another and it all sort of blurs together. But Kat is able to make sense of a few things.
Matilda has just pushed a guy over Pela, who stealthily positioned herself behind him.
Falcata is currently hitting a large man with a smaller man, holding him by the ankle and swinging him around like a mace.
Nolan is heroically interposing himself between any and all enemies and Amara, fending them off with his Lyte Brigade shield.
Several men with swords are laughing at Tancred’s hat. He laughs sarcastically back and then lunges at them, but they’re too distracted by the giant feather in his hat to do anything.
The five Four Horsemen of Castle Ansangaar are rallying around Tenebella, who actually seems to be enjoying herself, having a little army of her own to command and enemies to crush and drive before her into the Sea – not all that difficult even Porthaven’s seaside locale…
This, Kat decides in a moment of clarity, this is the very hour – the second – that she decides to enter municipal politics. She will become Prince of Porthaven one day. She will abolish the Coucil of Lords-Municipal.
And then she will make them the ones fighting for their lives in an arena full of dudes with swords.
“So, uh,” Dunstana asks. “Are we winning?”
Now, I’m pretty sure I didn’t write that in proper iambic pentameter, but I’ve never been able to make sense of how metre is supposed to work…
If anything, ‘Many are the fallen and dark is hour at day’s ending.’ sounds more like Anglo-Saxon poetry than Shakespeare.
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