"The Plot" - Chapter 5: Imperium Preptarum

Cloud eyed her surroundings as she entered the arena. The room was carved out of natural stone with a high ceiling and a massive, magically-reinforced, glass window ringing the circular room. Behind the window were rows of spectators, and in the luxury box on one side of the arena sat Ferrum flanked by two eye guards. Across from Cloud stood Raven wearing his signature plague doctor outfit.

“As you have probably guessed by now, I will be presiding over this event,” Ferrum informed them. “Blex would have been here himself, but he has other things to attend to. The rules are simple. To win, you must incapacitate your opponent or force them to concede the match. Do your best because I will be informing Blex of the results and he is using this to gauge your usefulness,” he explained. “Now begin and let the best criminal win!”

Cloud flung open her cloak to reveal the many hidden pouches hidden within. Each pouch contained a dagger, and the tabaxi began hurling dagger after dagger after dagger at her foe. As the projectiles approached him, Raven unfurled his wings and leapt into the air, the first few daggers gliding below him to hit the far wall. The owlin flew erratically, dodging several knives and deflecting several more with masterful strokes of his hands. Soon Cloud was all out of knives and Raven was completely unscathed save for a small cut on his leg, which he quickly healed by placing a hand on the injury.

Cloud stood for a moment, staring in shock at the empty pouches within her cloak, the many knives lying haphazardly around the room, and her somehow still perfectly fine opponent. Using the cat person’s moment of bewilderment against her, Raven swooped down toward her at full speed. Cloud leapt to the side and, with a wave of her hand, telekinetically hurled one of the fallen daggers straight into the plague doctor’s path. Raven easily caught it with one hand and threw it back at Cloud as he gracefully landed where she had just been standing.

The tabaxi sidestepped the projectile and unsheathed her dual swords. Lunging forward with a burst of feline speed, she slashed at her foe with both swords in unison, one aimed at his neck, the other at his knees. Raven nimbly backflipped out of the way before propelling himself forward with a flap of his wings, hurling a powerful kick at the tabaxi’s abdomen. She deflected the blow with a hastily-conjured invisible barrier, but with the force of the kick and her less-than-expert barrier, she was still sent stumbling back a few steps.

The owl person sprinted forward, punching in rapid succession at his momentarily off-balance foe. The tabaxi dodged the series of blows and retaliated with a flurry of sword strikes. Raven deftly deflected most of the blows using the palms of his hands, save for receiving a gash on his shoulder from one poorly deflected swipe. Before Cloud could continue her assault, her adversary firmly grasped both of her wrists and twisted them hard, forcing her to drop both of her blades. The owlin followed up with a kick to the cat person’s chest as he let go of her wrists, sending her painfully to the ground several feet away.

 Raven leapt into the air, then flew down rapidly, aiming to slam his fist straight into his opponent as he landed. At the last moment, the tabaxi spat out a string of magic words, causing her form to appear as a wavering blur and the owlin’s punch to slam into the floor half an inch away from his target. Cloud rolled to her feet and slashed her claws across her foe’s face, knocking off his raven-like mask and revealing his true, painfully-scratched, owl-like visage.

The tabaxi pressed the attack, repeatedly scratching her unprepared opponent until he flew into the air with a few powerful flaps of his wings. Raven began to use his ki to heal his numerous small wounds but was interrupted by Cloud leaping up at him with cat-like grace and slamming him into the wall. The two flailing combatants slid down the wall, coming to a stop at the floor, the tabaxi’s claws pressed against the owlin’s neck.

“Cloud has won the duel, and what an impressive battle it was! On both of your parts. I’m sure Blex will be pleased to hear of this,” Ferrum announced, ending the battle.

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            Blex looked up from Wendellor’s Ultimate Guide to Constructs as the man he had been waiting for entered the room. Standing in the doorway was a tall, burly man wearing winter clothes, complete with a coat made from a dire wolf pelt, the head serving as a hood.

            “Hello. I am here to discuss our deal,” Ivan explained, getting straight to the point.

            “Yes, I would like to hire twenty arquebusibears until I have taken over Argopolis,” Blex detailed.

            “Well, each bear normally costs 250gp per day, however since you’re hiring in bulk, they will cost only 200 each … so that’ll be 4,000gp,” the northerner tallied. “Do we have a deal?”

“Indeed we do,” the guildmaster affirmed

“Pleasure doing business with you. I will stop by to deliver the bears by the end of the week. Give me a call when you are done with them,” Ivan commanded before walking out of the room.

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Commander Grave confidently strode into the arena, his mechanical, glowing eyes fixed on his opponent. At the other end of the arena, Stabby twirled his decorative staff, his expression unreadable (as always) behind his grinning mask.

            “Aaand … begin!” Ferrum shouted, obviously eager to see the recently-built Commander Grave in action.

            Stabby quickly pulled three small, red balls from one sleeve and began juggling them as his mechanical foe drew two of his swords and charged. Seeing the jester throw his juggling balls, and correctly assuming that they were an attack, Commander Grave activated a wrist-mounted energy shield just in time to block the daggers that the little red balls had seemingly morphed into midflight.

            Stabby stood his ground. He pulled out his cittern and began strumming it frantically as the towering construct approached. As Grave drew near, a thunderous blast emanated from the jester’s instrument. The construct commander reacted instantly, activating energy shields from both wrists, crossing his arms in an ‘X’ shape to overlap his defenses, and digging his clawed feet into the ground. He was pushed back about a foot, leaving long gashes in the stone floor, but remained completely unfazed. Before the jester could begin casting another annoying spell, Grave disabled his energy shields and fired a grappling hook from one wrist that caught on his foe’s instrument and delivered it back to the construct warrior who flung it across the arena with the back of his hand.

            Stabby reached for his staff, but it was too late. Commander Grave lunged forward with surprising agility and slashed his blade across the jester’s chest. The swipe left a huge gash in Stabby’s jester outfit, but was luckily stopped by the mithral chainmail shirt he wore under it. While his foe was still reeling from the attack, Grave threw one sword to the ground and grabbed the foolish clown by the throat. Before Stabby knew what was happening, he was slammed bodily into the hard stone wall, leaving a sizable crack and knocking the poor bard’s lights out. Commander Grave let out an unsettling mechanical laugh as he dropped his unconscious foe to the ground.

            “Well… that was… impressive. We have ourselves a winner!” Ferrum declared, obviously a bit stunned at the brutal effectiveness of the construct commander. And all without using his best abilities, Ferrum thought.

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            Chelm levitated behind the counter of Chelm’s Cheese, his famous cheese shop. As he waited for his next customer to arrive, the beholder examined the parchment in front of him upon which was written his latest and, so far, unfinished cheese recipe. He heard the ring of a bell indicating that the door had opened and looked up from the paper. Chelm immediately recognized the man who had entered the store as one of his cheese cultists. The man’s yellow and orange robes and his circular red mask which resembled a wrapped cheese wheel gave it away.

            “My lord, I have come to deliver you an important letter,” the cultist explained as he caught his breath.

            “Very good. Put it on the counter,” Chelm ordered.

            The cultist placed the letter on the counter before walking around it and through a door leading to the underground kitchens and cultists’ quarters.

            After reading the letter, the beholder drifted over to the wall and pressed the push-to-talk button with his telekinesis ray. “Prepare for battle everyone!” Chelm bellowed over the speakers. “We’re getting ourselves a sponsorship!”

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            Cloud entered the arena for the second time that day and wondered how on earth she could possibly defeat the terrifying construct standing at the battlefield’s other end.

            As Ferrum declared the start of the match, Cloud threw off her cloak in such a way as to launch every dagger contained within at her foe. General Grave simply stood, unfazed, as Cloud’s entire arsenal of daggers bounced harmlessly off of his mithril plating. The construct laughed maniacally as he drew two of his swords and charged toward the tabaxi. Seeing his impending approach, Cloud muttered an incantation to make herself blurry and indistinct before she, herself, drew two blades and began charging.

            The two combatants met in the center of the arena, each rapidly attacking and blocking with their dual blades. It soon became apparent that Commander Grave was the superior swordsman, however Cloud had a massive advantage due to her blurry form, which was just enough to allow her to evade her foe’s attacks and land a few of her own blows. Much to the tabaxi’s surprise, however, her enchanted blades merely made small, superficial gashes in Grave’s metallic body. Growing tired of this foolishness, Commander Grave activated his wrist energy shield and bashed it into his opponent, sending her reeling. As a follow-up, the mechanical warrior blasted a jet of fire from one arm, catching Cloud’s fur on fire.

            The tabaxi was soon reduced to rolling around on the ground shouting, “Put me out! I concede! Put me out! Put me out!” until a warforged walked into the arena and doused her with a bucket of water.

            “Commander Grave has won the tournament! I am sure Blex will be most interested to hear of this,” Ferrum announced.

Go to Chapter 6 ⏩



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