Tourney of Bones!

[Masagh]

30th Day of Ash, 122nd Year of the Age of Steel

---

Masagh stepped into the newly redecorated Grand Hall with the slab of metal that would serve as his dulled tourney sword in hand. The tables and chairs had been magically stacked in the far corner and an open space cleared before the dais that housed Lady Creth and the other elders chairs. A large banner with the Creth hand and crossed swords below it was draped above the dais.

“What do you think?” A voice said, stepping up behind him. Masagh turned to see the smiling Ellen and Edgar walking up to him with their children. “I made it.” She indicated the banner.

“It’s quite good. I hope the spectacle lives up to the setting.” Masagh responded, grinning briefly. Other members of the house were filtering in. Some mingled near the fighting arena and others moved to the corpse buffet set out along the wall. It was amongst the most exciting days of the year for the Creth.

“Will you be fighting today, Sir Masagh?” Their boy child asked, eyeing the false sword.

“Mhmm. All the Knights will be. Except for the Weaponmaster of course.” Masagh turned and eyed Sabrione. She walked behind Lady Creth and followed her up on the dais. “Thank the gods.”

The parents smiled at that. “What, think she would fleece you?”

Masagh snorted. “Well the Weaponmaster traditionally doesn’t fight, you know. And last time we sparred in the tourney I may have knocked her upside her head.” He admitted.

“So you beat her?” Edgar sounded amused.

“Oh no, I scored a point. Then she battered me like hot iron on an anvil.” Masagh frowned remembering the bout so long ago. “I’m of the opinion she still hasn’t finished the lesson, to be honest.”

He laughed and clapped Masagh on the back. “When did this happen? Maybe she’s forgotten.”

“Oh an age ago, before she took the mantle of Weaponmaster.” Masagh smiled, nostalgia of past knights and Weaponmasters washing over him. “And Sabrione doesn’t forget an unfinished lesson, she’s a good teacher in that way.” Then he made his goodbyes and stepped up to the edge of the arena with the other knights.

Across from them the Bonecasters were entering from the tunnels leading to the laboratory and the menagerie. Behind each of the four necromancers was the looming form of their flesh and bone golem. The other combatants.

“Gather around, everyone!” Emerande said, stepping up to address the room full of ghouls. “Today I have the exciting privilege of announcing out four hundred and eleventh annual Tourney of Bones!” The room clapped and cheered. It was the entire house, sworn and civilian, clustered in the Grand Hall. Beside Emerande Parthena and Cyran clapped as well, Parthena like some regal queen and Cyran energetically, eyeing the golems his Bonecasters had created. Sabrione stood with a smirk on her face and her arms crossed. She had always loved Tourney day because she had dominated. Since becoming Weaponmaster though, she had been forced to watch while her subordinates did all the sparring.

“The Tourney of Bones is a tradition carried out to showcase the prowess of House Creth and to celebrate another year of safety and success in defending our home!” Emerande went on. Beside her Sabrione caught Masagh’s eye and her smirk widened a fraction. What could that be about? “For those of you who have not seen it before, or don’t remember-” Emerande’s gaze fell on the new family, the only ghouls new to the House since the last tourney. “The Knights of the House and the Bonecasters will pit their skills against one another in a tournament of duels. Third touch wins, or else a knock out wins. The bouts will be randomly selected and the winner will move on to the next stage. The Champion will be the Knight or Bonecaster that is undefeated. That person shall win a prize of this golden ring.” Emerande held up the ring of the Champion.

More clapping and cheering. Cyran stepped up next to the Matriarch. “This year’s festivities should be particularly exciting! In her generosity, my sister Sabrione the Weaponmaster has provided her own skills with the blade for my Bonecasters to mimic in their creations!” He pumped a thin armed fist into the air with glee.

“Well shit.” Cleon growled low.

“That’s not fair, she wants us to lose?” Riah muttered, glancing between the other more seasoned Knights. Masagh suddenly understood what that shit eating grin on Sabrione’s face was about. If she couldn’t be in the tournament, she would at least make sure her skill was.

“Don’t look so worried, Riah!” Calliope hissed. Riah turned to her, frown creasing.

“Why not?”

“You’ll just make her even more self-satisfied.” Masagh quipped. He sighed and turned back to the dais where Parthena was now holding out a bowl with their chits in it. “That old crone… She’s just spiteful she can’t participate anymore.”

Cleon grunted and frowned at Sabrione. “Let’s hope the Bonecasters did a wretched job animating their toys.”

Masagh glanced at Arthur, easily the largest ghoul in the hall. He had his arms crossed and he too was smirking at Masagh. When he saw his apprentice in the forge was eyeing him he grinned and pointed at the golem next to him. It was a hulking thing carrying a huge bearded axe. “Yea… Not so sure hope’s going to help any of us much.”

“Now, we will read out the first round of bouts. Then the games will begin!” Emerande said, arms raised and completely in her element.

---

[Masagh]

---

Masagh felt the anticipation as Lady Emerande reached into the bowl with ceremonious slowness. She fished out a pair of tokens and held them up before her. “Bonecaster Holstein will face… Bonecaster Lorraine!” There were claps as the two necromancers reached over and shook hands, grinning nervously.

“Easy for them, they won’t be taking any of the thwacks.” Riah muttered.

“Sir Masagh will be facing-“ His name being yelled made his stomach do a flip. It was so odd being so nervous about the tourney where there was no real threat of permanent damage when he routinely met with real danger on his missions with the Knights. Masagh mused on the power of an audience as Emerande gave his opponent’s name. “Bonecaster Riskel!”

Masagh saw the thing necromancer look nervously over at him and nod. Masagh winked and nodded back, raising his hand briefly at the general applause. The golem standing next to Riskel seemed to be primarily a bone golem with a vicious looking blade in one hand. It was about the size of Masagh. So Riskel had gone for mobility and skill rather than brute strength. Probably a wise choice.

Arthur was glowering at him, clearly disappointed he wouldn’t get to watch his creation batter his apprentice quite yet.

“Sir Calliope will be fighting-“ Emerande began. Calliope cursed next to him under her breath. “Bonecaster Arthur!”

“That’s unfortunate.” Calliope said. Arthur had won the tourney a number of times before. His golems were always vicious and durable. Calliope was no slouch with a blade though. “I’m going to have to castrate your friend’s toy.” She smiled viciously at Masagh.

“Please do. I don’t want to go up against it.”

“And that means that Sir Cleon and Sir Riah will be our last match!” Emerande said. “Please Bonecasters Holstein and Lorraine make ready for the bout. We will begin in a few minutes!”

As the crowd hurried to grab food or seats in prime locations Riah turned to Cleon. “What?! I have to fight you? That’s hardly fair.”

Cleon smiled gently at her and shrugged a shoulder. “Just do you best and I’m sure it will be fine.” He said evenly. Masagh knew it was hopeless for the newest Knight. It was a rotten match up for her, going face to face with the most experienced Knight besides the Weaponmaster herself. Cleon had won so many Tourneys that he had a small chest in his cell full of champion rings.

Masagh gave Riah a bracing clap on the back and walked over to his opponent, Bonecaster Riskel. He wanted to wish him luck, but also get a closer look at the golem. “Hello Riskel, fine specimen you’ve got for the tourney.” He gestured at the broad golem staring vacationly ahead.

Riskel smiled a bit nervously. “Oh yes, hoping it’s enough to get a win. After the tourney Bonehewer here will be placed in the north tunnels to stand sentinel. The High Arcanist was so pleased with him.” There was a note of pride in the necromancer’s voice. Sure enough, the golem did seem to be quite well made. Masagh saw that most of the musculature in the thing was dedicated to joints, enhancing mobility and explosiveness. Riskel may be a more junior Bonecaster, but he clearly knew his business.

“Congratulations. I’ll try to keep it in one piece then.” Masagh grinned and reached out a hand. Riskel smiled back and took it.

“Appreciate than. I’ll try to make the pain quick for you.” Riskel ribbed back. They both moved off the arena so the combatants could take their places.

Holstein’s golem was a hulking thing with a large mace. It stepped into the arena and gave the mace a single experimental swing. Lorraine’s looked much the same with a hammer attached to the end of one arm. Sabrione stepped into the middle and raised her arm. The Weaponmaster refereed all bouts for the Tourney of Bones.

“Ready?” Sabrione said, making eye contact with both contestants. When both nodded, she brought the arm down. “Begin!” She yelled and stepped back onto the dais.

The two golems surged forward and the thunder of their clash reverberated through the Grand Hall. Both were designed for powerful, crushing blows. The mace and hammer thwacked into each other with the might of giants. The Bonecasters observed and sent invocations to exercise their will upon the golems. The two massive charricatures of life struck at each other with the kind of brutal fatalism the living or sentient simply did not have. They were machines of flesh made only for destruction.

Holstein’s lunged forward and brought the mace down on the shoulder of Lorraine’s. The hammer was a bit heavier and thus harder to manipulate. The limb did not rise to block the blow in time and the crunch made the entire hall flinch back. The golem pulled the mace back and Sabrione announced the point.

There was cheering and both golems reset. Lorraine and Holstein looked strained, grimacing at their opposition.

“It’s already over.” Masagh muttered to Calliope, who was standing next to him.

“Mhmm.”

“Why?” It was Edgar, the father and recent arrival. “Why’s it already over I mean?”

“Both of them put all their focus on strength of blows, meaning they aren’t as quick as they could be.” Masagh whispered as the two golems stepped back to their sides. “A fine method for a generic combat golem, but for the tourney not so much. It is based on touch not damage, so being slow is a detriment. And now the hammer is weaker because of the shoulder strike. The mace will scare more hits soon, watch.” He explained, nodding to the fight as the golems erupted at each other.

---

[Masagh]

---

Sure enough, no more than ten seconds later the mace turned the other golem’s head around on its shoulders. Lorraine’s golem having lost vital mobility in the shoulder strike. Lorraine yelled out in frustration and rushed forward as the second point was called for Holstein. She clambered deftly up the side of the golem as everyone watched and a haze of muttering and talking rose up. The Bonecaster made an attempt to twist the head back around. She struggled with her efforts to the point where Cyran actually climbed down and came over to give her direction.

Eventually the golem’s head was turned mostly back around and Lorraine was able to make a few quick script runes to keep it on. The golems were once again reset.

The final point came quickly too. Despite Lorraine’s best efforts, all the golem’s movements and strikes were off balance after its head took that strike. As the golems rushed each other for the final time the hammer swung wide and the mace short forward. It was a lunge straight back at the head. The rounded head impacted the jaw with a sickening crack and the golem’s head was once again thrown askew. With a crack its neck folded backwards and the thing slumped back like a felled tree.

The crunch of the thing hitting the flagstones was lost with the first victory cheer of the day. Holstein raised her arms wildly, jumping like a mad woman as her golem not only survived the battle to fight again, but survived unscathed. That meant she was in a great position going into the second round. Holstein stepped forward and shook Lorraine’s hand vigorously and then they embraced briefly.

“Our winner, Bonecaster Holstein!” Emerande’s voice announced in the midst of the cheers. “Next match, Sir Masagh versus Bonecaster Riskel!”

More cheering and a pat on the back by Calliope. Masagh stepped out into the arena as the room erupted. He walked over to his side of the arena, strapping the helmet on as he did so. Cleon was standing there with arms crossed. He grinned as Masagh approached.

“Ready?” Cleon asked.

“Yes, got to get past this one to give you the clobbering you deserve.” Masagh said, turning to watch Riskel and his golem take to the arena. Cleon gave a soft chuckle and stepped off to give him space.

Masagh watched the golem move. It’s limbs moved with a fluid grace the larger golem’s hadn’t exhibited. When it crouched and raised the sword to the ready, Masagh recognized the movement. It was the exact way Sabrione settled into a high guard. The knight snorted and shook his head faintly.

“You ready for this?” Sabrione was grinning at him as she strutted out into the middle of the arena.

“We’ll see.” Masagh said flatly. He raised his sparring blade to Riskel and settled into as low guard, tip pointed to the ground to his side.

Sabrione raised her arm and said “Ready?” Masagh nodded and Riskel nodded. “Fight!” She dropped her arm and Masagh was already moving.

The golem might have Sabrione’s muscle memory and skill, but Riskel gave it direction. Perhaps Masagh could fluster the Bonecaster enough to score an early point. He lunged forward with a upward strike. Metal clashed and a cheer rang out at the golem met his strike with its own blade. The blow reverberated through his arms but Masagh didn’t let that make him hesitate. He pressed his attack, pushing the golem back with a series of quick, flowing strikes.

They were met with a familiar cadence of parries. The ghoul and the golem danced across the arena to the beat of metal, tempo rising as their movements quickening. Masagh altered his blows to a horizontal strike to probe the thing’s reaction time. It falters but managed to block his blow.

The tempo shifted as the golem began to strike with a familiar form of Sabrione’s. Masagh found himself falling into the rhythm of deflection. He whipped his blade around his head and brought it down hard, hoping to jolt the golem into providing an opening. The boney appendage shot up and the golem’s blade was there, improbably. Masagh cursed as the golem pressed again.

Then it feinted an overhead strike and he moved to block. The golem spun in a surge of speed that caught him off guard and Masagh diverted his blade. Not quickly enough, the sword of the golem impacted his blade and then his side, sending him stumbling to the left and pain shooting through his ribs.

“Point to Riskel!” Sabrine yelled and the crowd cheered.

Masagh smirked inside his helmet up at his sister. She was overjoyed to see the golem score a point. The vicarious victory clearly was the next best thing to participating herself. No matter, he had the measure of the golem now. Masagh would teach Sabrione a lesson about her own style today.

“Ready?” Sabrione said, after they had both reset. “Fight!” She stepped back.

Masagh set the blade in a rear guard and slid his foot forward. It was a dangerously exposed guard, highly offensive in nature. He was masking his blade behind him while exposing his entire body to attack. If Sabrione thought her skill alone was enough to defeat the Knights, he would prove he knew her better than she thought. Sabrione grinned at the sight. The significance of the stance was not lost on her.

He waited for the golem to rush towards him. They came together and the golem’s torso twisted in a familiar movement. Masagh ducked low and the blade sang as it cut over his head. Correcting, the golem brought the blade back low. Masagh stepped back and the tip sliced the air in front of his knees. Masagh could not hear the crowd anymore. The room was a blur and only he and the golem before him had space in his awareness.

---

[Masagh]

---

Finally the golem shifted its weight and stepped forward hard. In a moment of clarity Masagh saw the lunge as he had watched it happen a thousand times with Sabrione. He to the side and twisted his pelvis with the movement. The practice claymore whipped up as the golems sword slid past, inches from his lower back. There was a dull thud as he felt the impact of his blade striking against the golem’s arm.

Masagh stepped back and his senses came back to him with a rush. He turned and walked back to his side of the arena in a state of elation. The golem may have Sabrione’s movements, but neither it or Riskel had the in the moment adaptability. Masagh had been able to capitalize on his familiarity with his sister’s style and hopefully show the other Knights that particular weakness if they were paying attention.

“Point to Sir Masagh!” Sabrione yelled and the crowd cheered.

They reset for the next bout. “Ready? Fight!” And the signal was made to begin again.

Masagh stepped forward this time, diving into the fight like a predator for the kill. His blade sung in the air as he moved, mimicking the golem’s style. They mirrored each other in the pattern of Sabrione’s movements. Strikes rang out in a rapid tempo as the house collectively held its breath.

Masagh stepped into the golem’s reach and grappled its sword arm with his own. Spinning in a move he had seen Cleon do many a times he brought the edge against the golem’s neck, or where the neck would be. The metallic tap of the blade on bone rang out.

“Point to Sir Masagh!” Sabrione’s voice rang out again with annoyance flavoring the words.

Riskel cursed and stomped his foot. He came onto the arena and bent over the golem’s sword arm for a moment. Masagh found Cleon lining the arena and gave him a thumb’s up. The older Knight hadn’t missed the significance of the bout. He was smiling softly.

“Taking my dance moves, Masagh?” Cleon jibed.

“Got to do what I got to do.” Masagh said, shrugging.

“Ready? Fight!” Sabrione began the third bout.

They rushed each other much the same as before. Masagh was jolted to see the golem’s sword arm moved viper quick now. He almost gave up a point trying to go on the offensive when the golem’s blade shot out at him. Masagh saved himself by placing his blade in the way and retreating quickly.

The golem pressed the attack, but the movements of its legs were slower now. It was as though the Bonecaster had somehow redirected the speed capability from the rest of the golem’s body to its sword arm. Masagh parried a flurry of hard hitting blows, retreating again as he failed to keep up with the attacks. There were ohs and has from the crowd as he shuffled back.

It wasn’t the right move though, Masagh knew. To immobilize yourself for a quicker strike meant that all your defensive capability had diminished. Once he realized that Masagh simply sidestepped the golem, circling quickly as its blows fell out of range of the ghoul. His third and final point was taken against the back of the golem’s arm as it tried to whirl around to meet his attacks.

“Sir Masagh wins!” Sabrione said to the uproarious celebration of the crowd. Riskel cursed and thrust his fist into his hand. Masagh laughed and lowered his blade. He stepped over to the Bonecaster and clapped him on the shoulder.

“It’s a good golem.” He said in a friendly tone. “I just know my sister’s movements well.”

Riskel nodded and sighed. “Better luck next year I suppose. Good win, Sir Masagh.” He reached out and clasped his hand briefly. Then the necromancer directed his golem out of the arena.

“Take notes, Masagh.” A deeper voice said. Masagh turned to see Arthur stepping over the arena barrier with his looming golem. “I will be coming to knock you out of the running next.”

“Why all the animosity, Arthur?” Masagh said, spreading his arms wide.

“Runeforging used to be pleasant and relaxing for me, before you came to ask your thousand questions a day.” Arthur joked, a grin forming at the edges of his mouth. It had been many years since Masagh had first apprenticed under the Rune forger. They had long since formed a friendship.

“I hope Calliope let’s you last long enough to not hang your head in shame.” Masagh shot back across the arena as he returned to his place.

“Fat chance.” Calliope hissed, grimacing at the huge golem opposing her. Arthur’s golem was indisputably the meanest of the bunch. Massive and broad like Holstein’s and Lorraine’s, it had enough strength to break limbs of lesser creatures. But where they lacked speed, Arthur had expertly wove reinforced tendons in the thing’s legs that would allow for surges of speed and mobility. Masagh had seen the Bonecaster working on it earlier in the week.

He did not envy Calliope her first match.

“That thing looks nasty.” Riah said as the two of them and Cleon gathered around to watch their companion go toe to toe with Arthur’s monstrosity.

“Yes, she is in for a tough fight, but Calliope can more than handle it.” Masagh said, speaking loud enough so Calliope herself could hear him. The lean Knight had never been one to be bashful or timid. She didn’t start here.

“Shut you rotten mouth, Masagh. I’m going to put you in your place next.” Calliope said, pointing the blade at him.

“What did I say?” Masagh said. “Why is everyone coming at me today?”

“Ready? Fight!”

Calliope rushed the golem. She was a flurry of black and grey, blade flashing as it met axe and the first sparks of the match flew. Calliope was quick, but so was the golem. Arthur had imbued it with Sabrione’s muscle memory and it showed. They moved like two dancers, slipping past the dangerous edges of weapons and into each other’s space. The battle of agility was truly something to watch.

---

[Masagh]

---

The golem’s bearded axe flashed through the air as though it weighed nothing, slicing and making the wind sing. The golem itself shifted and sidestepped a move Calliope barely telegraphed. Masagh winced and groaned as Calliope was forced to dive out of the way. The golem gave chase and brought the axe down repeatedly, keeping the Knight on her back foot.

“What? What is it?” Riah asked. She was gripping the pommel of her downturned practice sword with whiter knuckles than usual.

“That was a hard move to see coming, and Arthur saw it.” Cleon said, frowning.

“Okay.”

“It means Arthur knows her fighting style.” Masagh explained.

At Riah’s blank look Cleon continued. “It means he knows all our fighting styles, because he not only prepared by imprinting Sabrione’s style into his golem, but saw that coming.”

Riah’s face fell in a look of pained anticipation. “Well I probably won’t have to deal with it, at least.” She shot Cleon a side glance full of accusation.

Riah was the newest Knight by far. She had only been in the sworn for about a year and had the least experience of them all. It was unlikely she was going to win her match against the second most seasoned sword in House Creth, but it could be done. Masagh said so as Calliope and the golem came together on a flash of sparks and grunting.

Riah gave him a withering look and folded her arms. “I don’t need you to give me pity confidence, Masagh.”

“He’s right, nothing is certain.” Cleon muttered, not taking his eyes off the bout. “She could beat him if she goes low… got to be quick enough though.”

Masagh watched as the ghoulish women and the golem danced around each other, both showing incredible endurance with such a long lasting fight. Most duels did not last so long, with a mistake made in the first minute usually. But Calliope was determined to win, and Arthur’s monstrosity was nearly faultless.

Eventually though Calliope ducked low and lunged forward. She was exposed but not was a quick maneuver. Arthur, however, saw it and was quicker. His golem brought the axe down as it stepped back. The blade struck her in the back of the helmet, knocking the knight down on all fours. The huge golem stood and stepped back as “Point to Arthur!” Rang out.

Masagh grimaced as he watched Calliope struggle back to her feet. The blow had clearly jarred her. She kept shaking her head and her stance was unsteady. Arthur was grinning now.

“Calliope, you have this!” Masagh said, hoping she could knock Arthur out of the running for him.

She grunted and slapped a fist against her chest armor before giving her head one final shake and raising her blade before her.

“Ready? Fight!” Sabrione said once again.

Masagh knew it was hopeless as Calliope gave her shaky charge. The knight compensated for her dazed state with a growl of fury. She blocked the first blow, which clearly jarred her. The massive golem’s strength reverberated through her joints and Masagh saw her stagger back. She was still trying to recover when the golem’s second mighty strike sent her sliding across the arena.

“Come on.” He hissed under his breath.

“Point to Arthur!” Sabrione yelled.

“She’s rattled up in the head now.” Cleon said. He turned suddenly to Riah. “Don’t block hits from those things. Dodge back. Be creative. You will last longer.”

“You think I’m going to get the chance to fight anything but you, Cleon?” Riah asked as Calliope staggered again to her feet. She was leaning on her sword now, panting.

“You might.” Cleon said dismissing her fatalist attitude.

Before she could respond the fight was underway again. Calliope was completely on the defensive now, shuffling backwards and belatedly parrying the axe blows. She was clearly jarred and Arthur knew it. He seized the opportunity to break through her defenses with raw brute strength. The golem knocked her sword aside and Calliope growled, drawing her dagger from her belt. She leapt at the thing.

The golem’s axe was there to meet her before she could strike it. The blade knocked her aside and the bout was over.

“Arthur wins!” Sabrione said as Calliope was struggling to her feet. Masagh and Cleon both hurried over to help her up. She removed her helmet and they saw her hair was standing on end and chaotically windswept.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” Calliope was muttering under her breath. “That slimy Bonecaster. Where is he?” Calliope lunged for Arthur, who was standing with his arms crossed as the crowd cheered. “You dusty old bag of bones, come fight me with your own hands and see how it ends!” Calliope yelled. Masagh and Cleon grabbed her around the shoulders and hauled her off the arena.

“Calm down, calm down.” Cleon grumbled. “You’re done, go get some food.”

Riah came over and gave a weak smile. “You did really well, Call-“

“Oh shut it. I know it was a bag of ass.” Calliope said, stalking off to get some meat.

“Are you ready?” Cleon asked Riah politely, his face impassive. She turned and blinked at him, then started.

“Oh, it’s us then.” She breathed, suddenly looking paler than her normal undead self.

“Come on, over here Riah.” Masagh said, steering her to one side of the arena as Sabrione announced the next fight. “You just remember the training you’ve received, you will do fine.”

“Fine? I’m going to get knocked out.” Riah spat desperately as Sabrione descended into the arena. Riah was watching her worriedly.

“Look, don’t think about the odds, just do what you were trained to do.” Masagh said, getting her attention. “Cleon has a lot of experience, but you are a Knight for a reason.” She blinked at him and then Sabrione spoke.

“Ready?” Riah turned back to the fight at hand. Cleon was making slow swipes at the air with his sword, rolling his shoulders. “Fight!”

---

[Masagh]

---

The senior and junior knights stepped forward. Riah, he was pleased to see, didn’t hesitate in the moment of action. She moved forward and leapt into a series of strikes, attempting to get Cleon on the defensive. Just watching her, Masagh could see errors in her stance and tempo, but he admired the tenacity there. Cleon parried her strikes with the ease of a master. This was not a training match in which he should indulge a full set of strikes, it was a tournament. While Riah made a valiant effort to make first contact, Cleon was the favorite for a reason. He did not toy with her.

When she brought her blade up in an overhead strike, he darted his blade forward and rapt it against her chest before she could bring the swing down. Then he stepped back and dodged the late drop of her blade. Riah cursed and swiped the air as Sabrione yelled out the point for Cleon. They both turned and reset.

“You got this, just knock him upside the head.” Calliope said with her mouth full. She held a human arm by the wrist and gnawed at the elbow. She had come back calmer and a great deal less flustered.

“Oh is that all?” Riah spat back.

“Watch his footing.” Masagh muttered in her ear as Sabrione raised her arm again.

“Ready? Fight!”

They met in a shower of sparks and a flurry of strikes. Riah managed to block a full three of Cleon’s strikes before the knight slid a tap on her helmet in. Riah cursed again and looked even more flustered. Masagh felt for her. It was her first tourney and she had drawn the previous champion. Despite all that, she would do well to forget that and focus in on the bout. Everything else was cumbersome distraction.

Then again, one hundred and eighty years ago he would have been doing the same thing. He did do the same thing against Sabrione way back then.

Cleon had pulled her in close and was clearly giving her some instruction. Always the even keeled mentor, Cleon was. He gave her a pat on the shoulder and walked back to his side to uproarious cheering.

“Listen just do your best. The worst it’s going to be has already happened.” Masagh said, shrugging his shoulder.

They faced off again, and again the bout began with a burst of motion. Riah stuck to her defenses, able to block or deflect the storm of blows Cleon rained down upon her. The older knight did not let up. His sword was like a whip, cracking everywhere and pressing her back. He hadn’t shown any signs of tiring. Riah was flagging fast.

“You know, I think she’s done pretty well, to be honest.” Calliope said conversationally, all signs of anger gone. She tore a bit of flesh from the arm and popped it into her mouth.

“Tough draw.” Masagh muttered, eyes on the fight. His mind was on the next round of matches. Holstein would be the ideal competition. Both Arthur and Cleon would be a nightmare to deal with.

Riah lunged in a wild attempt to get a point before a nil loss. Her blade shot forward, viper quick. Cleon was faster though. He stepped back and twisted his torso, letting the blade slide past between his arm and belly. His own claymore was there in an instant to punish her for it. The flat of the blade slapped against her helmet with a ringing gong.

The Hall erupted in cheering as Cleon stepped away from Riah. “Sir Cleon wins!” Sabrione yelled into the cheering. Riah yanked her helmet off and breathed out sharply. Cleon stepped forward and embraced her with one arm. Masagh saw him mutter something in her ear and give her an affectionate pat on the shoulder. Cleon had never been one to gloat or demean.

Riah returned to his side looking somewhat mollified. “Good effort. That prick’s been knocking us sideways for decades, don’t worry.” Calliope said through a mouthful of flesh.

“Yes, good work.” Masagh said, eyeing the stage where Emerande and Parthena were getting ready for the second round match announcements.

“I didn’t get a single point!” Riah said, exasperated.

“Did you expect to?” Calliope asked incredulously. “Cleon has been doing this since before the Age of Steel… How old are you?”

“You didn’t get knocked out. That should be a win for your first year.” Masagh muttered. He glanced at Calliope. “I hope I get Holstein.”

The other knight snorted. “Won’t. It’s Cleon for you. I’ll wager it.”

Masagh frowned at her. Then he turned his attention to Riah. “It’s all over for you, now you can relax and get some food, enjoy the festivities. No one seems to be shaming you for losing either.” He said this last gently, hoping some light-heartedness might help.

“Yea, right. Some food would be nice.” Riah said, looking around. “I haven’t eaten in days, nervous about all this…”

“You did well, Riah. Kept to your training.” Cleon had come over. He had tucked his helmet under his arm and was smiling.

“You oaf, I hope you get Arthur and he knocks you cold.” Calliope said instantly, wagging her severed arm at Cleon. “You get Riah and I’m forced to content with that nightmare first round. I haven’t had an easy first round in, what twelve years!”

“Blame Sabrione.” Cleon raised his hands defensively.

“Alright everyone!” Emerande’s voice silenced the chattering hall. “We’re going to determine round two matches and then take a short break so everyone who hasn’t already can get flesh meat.” In her element, Emerande reached into the bowl with gravitas and removed a token. “Bonecaster Holstein will face…”

Masagh waited with baited breath. Beside him Cleon also watched with slightly narrowed eyes. The next name would determine how easy it would be for Masagh to have a real chance at the ring this year.

“Sir Cleon!” Emerande’s words brought a sinking feeling to his stomach. His mind immediately went to the sight of Calliope flying limply through the air and the smirk on Arthur’s face.

---

[Masagh]

---

Cleon huffed a laugh, shifting his gaze knowingly to Masagh.

“Damn that stone wall of a Bonecaster…” Masagh muttered.

“That means that Sir Masagh and Bonecaster Arthur will face off in the second match of the second round.” Emerande said. “Now please enjoy some flesh and congratulate our winners so far. We will begin our next match in ten minutes.”

The cluster of knights were immediately accosted with a small crowd of congratulators and luck wishers. Masagh smiled and thanked everyone, then turned back to Cleon and the others. “Arthur has been hoping for this matchup since the beginning. He told me so.” He confided in Cleon. The muscular knight chuckled at that.

“Why’s everyone want to knock your block off, Masagh?”

“It’s all my closest friends too.” Masagh muttered, smirking. “Here she comes to gloat.” He frowned and threw up a rude gesture to his sister. Sabrione grinned like a cat as she swaggered over to them.

“Calliope, what was that?” Sabrione asked, laughter thick in her voice. “You blunted his axe at least.”

“Oh shut it Sabrione, you twisted banshee.” Calliope spat.

“Really trying to do us in this year, eh? You know it’s not our fault you got promoted right?” Masagh asked.

“I just provided my services to my fellow Creth when they were in need.” Sabrione spread her arms wide in mock innocence.

“And kept it a secret from us.” Cleon said flatly.

“Knowing they’d use it against your own knights.” Calliope added dryly.

“Hoping to watch us catch a beating.” Masagh said.

Sabrione grinned at all of them, soaking up their negativity like some sort of flower in the sun. She shrugged. “I wanted to give you a good fight. Can’t have my knights going soft on me.” She said and pushed past on her way to the food.

“Good work today Riah and Calliope, fought well.” She said as she passed, flashing a more sincere grin.

“What about us, eh?” Cleon asked.

“Oh I’m still hoping to watch you two get knocked out.” Sabrione yelled back in a light, happy tone.

“It would be nice to be able to just wack her. You know?” Masagh said.

It was a short interlude as everyone got food and talked lightheartedly. Then everyone seemed to trickle back to the arena all at the same time. Emerande’ sensing the anticipation, called the attention back to the arena and gestured for Sabrione to begin.

Bonecaster Holstein was looking quite nervous now. Like Masagh, she had no delusions about the projected chances of winning this ring. She had probably hoped for a pairing with him also. But now she and her golem are facing off against the favorite of the tourney, and he had already watched her fight one round.

Sabrione stepped into the arena. On the other side Cleon was already swinging his sword arm about casually. He looked like he did on any other training day, confident and calm. The big knight flipped the blade up and settled into a ready stance. Holstein’s golem swung its weapon up and held it in a high stance overhead.

“Ready? Fight!” Sabrione said, dropping her arm and initiating the second round.

Cleverly, Holstein had the golem already swinging the mace around, building momentum as it closed with Cleon. The ridged mace head arced through the air with a whooshing that would have Masagh’s heart racing. If Cleon let that mace strike him at that speed, he might be completely knocked cold. The knight darted in and out, trying to land a strike.

It was a spectacle to see, the master swordsman go against such a behemoth. He moved with fluid grace, weaving between the dangerous edge of the axe and the golem’s crude form. Masagh knew the thrust before it happened, recognizing Cleon’s movements. Then the blade was up and between the golem’s ribs.

“Point to Sir Cleon!” Sabrione shouted.

Holstein’s method of building momentum was becoming less effective as the second bout was signaled. The level of skill was now truly apparent. Cleon was a master of the blade and the movements around it. Holstein was clearly an apt necromancer, for her golem matched Cleon if not in grace, than in savagery. The golem dropped the mace with such force it cracked the flagstone beneath Cleon’s feet.

The room gasped and Cleon looked visibly startled. Holstein was staring coldly at him, her lips a tight line. Calliope muttered a curse next to him. They were all staring at the fight, enraptured by the speed and savagery. Cleon was taking bold risks with his movements, but perhaps he saw openings others did not. Masagh watched at the knight darted forward with a feint designed to make the golem overextend. The knight then rolled to the left.

Holstein didn’t fall for the trick though, bringing the mace around savagely. It struck against the floor, drawing a line of sparks before slamming into Cleon’s side. It send him clattering. But the stout-hearted knight was rolling to his feet before Sabrione had even announced the point.

“Well, well. Didn’t expect anyone to make Cleon drop a point.” Calliope said.

“That was a nasty hit.” Masagh agreed, watching his companion swing his fencing sword viciously. Cleon had rolled his shoulders forward and was pacing back and forth slightly. Masagh could tell beneath that helmet his friend was not as calm as he had been.

He looked hungry now.

“Ready? Fight!” Sabrione sent the two combatants into motion again.

Cleon rushed forward and when the golem made for a horizontal strike with the mace, he simply folded backwards. Cleon slid under the blow and then thrust forward. He exploded off the flagstones to one knee. His sword shot up and under the golem’s defenses.

“Point to Sir Cleon!” Sabrione shouted.

Masagh found himself clapping with the rest. It had been a graceful and bold move, ducking under the weapon like that. Idly Masagh wondered if he could do something like that. Glancing over to where Arthur watched the match impassively beside his looming death machine, he thought he might have to figure out how sooner rather than later.

---

[Masagh]

---

The hall rang out with a burst of applause and shouts of encouragement. Cleon prowled back to his side of the arena and Holstein flustered. It was one thing to get one point on Cleon, it was another to try to get three before the Knight found your golem’s flesh himself. Masagh didn’t envy Holstein the steep climb back to the lead.

Sabrione said the words and they clashed again. Emerande was leaning over and whispering something to Cyran as the knight and golem wove around each other. The blade slashed out and the mace swung around. Then Masagh’s heart leapt as Cleon stumbled. Holstein actually took a step forward in eagerness. The golem swung the mace overhead and then brought it down hard in an overhead strike towards the faltering knight.

As the mace fell, Cleon’s imbalance melted away and revealed the ploy he had made. The knight spun away as the mace struck the flagstone again. Before the golem could recover from the hard flung blow and defend itself, Cleon had snaked his way over the weapon and tapped the golem on the throat.

The crowd erupted. Masagh found himself flinging his fist into the air in elated victory for his friend, even though it meant he might have to face him.

Sabrione yelled into the din of sound. “Sir Cleon wins!”

Cleon raised his sword to the crowd and then walked over to Holstein. She smiled graciously as he shook her hand. Cleon gave her the same friendly pat on the shoulder he had given Riah when he defeated her. Then he walked over to where the knights were clustered, watching.

“Oof, that blow knocked the wind from me.” He said wincing and moving his arm experimentally.

Masagh snorted. “Don’t try your cheap tricks on me, charlatan.” Masagh said, looking unsympathetically at his side where the iron cuirass was slightly dented. Cleon blinked and laughed, straightening and ceasing the show of pain.

“Fair enough. Had to try it.” He admitted ruefully. Riah looked shocked and Calliope just shook her head disgustedly. Cleon was not above mind games, apparently.

“Goodluck, Masagh. I hope you win so I can watch you thump him.” Riah said, jutting her chin towards Cleon. He gave a mock hurt look and joined her as she stepped off the arena to clear space for his fight.

Across the open arena Arthur was stepping forward with his golem. He winked at Masagh when he caught his eye. The golem looked like a monster to fight, especially after already fighting Riskel’s golem.

“Any advice for that one?” He asked Calliope. She chomped on the limb in her hand contemplatively.

Peering across the arena she leaned in. “Don’t let him hit you.” She whispered and gave him a pat on the shoulder. Then she left.

“Thanks.” Masagh muttered over his shoulder to her as Sabrione initiated the fight.

The golem charged forward to close the distance almost before Sabrione had left the arena. Masagh bolted left and raised his blade between the two of them. The large golem was a perfect blend of fibrous flesh and bone. He saw now that he was closer that Arthur had actually bolted chitinous plates to the thing as well. No doubt grown from some vile concoction of the laboratory. The Bonecasters had been given a limited time to build their creations, but Arthur was by far the most experienced, save for Cyran and Emerande herself. He could do a lot with a deadline, clearly.

The golem’s red eyes never left Masagh as its first vicious thrust with the axe just missed his shoulder. The crescent blade crashed against the flagstones and the thing was once again pressing him. Masagh deflected the occasional blow, but they were far too powerful for him to block. He had to move and dodge.

To win this fight he would need to avoid being hit. If Callippe’s performance had been anything to judge off of, a single blow of the axe was likely to wound him enough to make him an easy target for the rest of the fight. So when the golem swung, Masagh ducked or retreated. You can do this, Masagh. Just created enough time to find Arthur’s weak point. He kept reassuring himself repeatedly.

The axe swung down again and Masagh dove to the side. Before he could rise past his knees the golem jerked the axe towards him, sparking along the flagstones. Masagh quickly brought the sword up and set hit foot against the tip to block. The impact jarred him and sent him sprawling again. His heart fell as he continued to roll out of the way.

But Sabrione’s voice remained silent. Arthur had made the golem pause, thinking it had been a point. Masagh took the opportunity to find his feet.

“Did you blink Sabrione?” Arthur asked, surly. “He just flew six feet.”

Sabrione smirked snidely. “Arthur you’ve done enough of these you should know you don’t get points for striking the opponent’s sword.”

The Bonecaster’s face fell and he shot Masagh an annoyed look.

The golem charged again and again Masagh was forced to side step and deflect. The momentum of the crescent would bring it around hard, but Masagh was sensing there was a fraction of a pause between the blows that, given a bit of luck, he could capitalize on. If he could make himself take the risk.

The golem lashed out again with its dulled axe and Masagh stepped in past the thing’s guard as the momentum carried the axe past him. He lunged forward, hand gripping the axe hilt to shove it aside. He watched as if in slow motion as the tip of his blade rose between the golem’s arms. The thing’s eyes never left his face as his sword just grazed the cheek guard of the chitinous helmet Arthur had placed on it.

Then he was thrown backwards.

Masagh skidded across the flagstones on his ass while Sabrione roared. “Point to Sir Masagh!”

---

[Masagh]

---

“That wouldn’t have done any damage in a real fight!” Arthur yelled, arms wide. He was looking scornfully from Sabrione to Masagh.

“Not in a real fight, Arthur.” Masagh said cheerily as he struggled to his feet. The golem watched him with those red eyes as he did so. It seemed completely in Arthur’s control, but the ghoul shivered to think what would happen if someone unwelcome in the Creth Compound came across this behemoth patrolling one of their dark tunnels. A quick and bloody death was most likely.

The two fighters reset, Masagh panting heavily and the golem simply staring. Masagh took on the simple forward mid guard stance. Any high guard stance would be useless against such a tall opponent. His arms would tire and his high strikes would not force the golem to expose itself because it loomed so high above him that to block such a blow would not require it to raise its arms above chest level. Besides, if the golem blocked a strike it was unlikely that Masagh would be able to muster a follow up with the force of the thing’s strikes.

“Ready? Fight!” The ominous words left Sabrione and the golem was once again rushing forward. Fueled by Arthur’s consternation, its attacks became wilder and more aggressive. This was a good sign. Any time an opponent began to lose their calm it meant they were less focused on form. But that could only be capitalized on if Masagh survived past the crescent blade rending the air before him.

The people watched with baited breath as the looming golem spun and twirled in its vicious dance while Masagh bobbed and wove around it, his blade only engaged to deflect the stray strike. Then Masagh saw an opening and lunged as the axe arced past his chest once again. He felt the surge of victory as his sword wove in.

Then the golem’s eyes bore into him and he knew he had been mistaken. It reached out and grabbed his sword arm by the bicep. Spinning the axe back and redirecting his own claymore, the golem drove the dulled edge of the axe into the same side it had struck before. The blow sent Masagh tumbling. He slammed into the flagstones and felt the reverberating pain of the blow. He was surprised that it wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. The axe’s backhand strike had been an adjustment and not nearly as damaging as its initial attack would have been. He felt the pain in the area, but most of the impact had radiated to the seams of the cuirass and into his waist and shoulders. That was better than his ribs, at least for mobility of movement.

As he lay face down, Cleon’s trick came to mind.

“Point to Bonecaster Arthur!” More cheering. Still Masagh lay splayed out on the ground.

“You alright, Masagh?” He heard someone say.

Masagh set his hands under him and pushed himself gingerly back onto his hands and knees. He could hear Calliope cursing and muttering. Fumbling with his sword, Masagh picked the blade up and pushed himself to his feet. He staggered over to his side of the arena and turned to face the golem. His stance wavered slightly, but his grip was firm. He nodded to Sabrione, who was watching him with a pained expression.

“Ready?” She made brief eye contact with him. He nodded. “Fight!” She yelled.

The golem moved forward slower now. Arthur was confident in his impending victory after that staggering blow. The axe rose in the air. Masagh stepped to the left slightly and shifted his weight, hefting the blade to answer it. As the axe fell, Masagh bolted right. He rolled over his shoulder and waited until the flagstones collided with his feet to vault up. He brought his blade up and into the back of the golem with all the speed and precision he could muster.

When he heard the clatter of sword on bone and felt the impact reverberate through his grip he roared in triumph. He raised his blade overhead in victory, he could not help himself. He had tricked Arthur out of a point, but it would not work a second time. Still, he was now ahead. All he needed was one more touch.

“Point to Sir Arthur!” Sabrione yelled with glee. She loved a dirty trick.

Cleon was laughing and Riah’s mouth was open. Across the way Arthur was giving him the same look he gave him when he cooled iron in the water barrel rather than the oil one. Masagh chuckled and shrugged his shoulder at the man as if to say ‘A point is a point’.

Sabrione commenced the next bout and the crowd watched on with anticipation. Clearly they hoped Masagh would have some other trick up his sleeve. Masagh found himself hoping that himself. His mind was drawing a blank. Arthur would be extra cautious now, after giving up two points to his apprentice.

The next few seconds proved how wrong Masagh was in that read. The golem came at him with a vengeance. The crescent blade of the axe barely left room for a counterstrike of any kind. The air tore as the weapon passed and Masagh felt it brush over his eyes with each stroke. If the axe had been sharp and he had been fighting without the steel armor he wore Masagh was sure he would have been clove in two by the last attack.

Masagh brought his blade up from below and struck it against the haft of the axe as the golem made another backswing. The ends of the weapons both went careening in different directions and Masagh was able to slide past the golem to avoid being knocked out of the arena.

He moved back quickly to give the golem some space, so as not to be surprised by some spinning attack. Thankful he had done so, he ground his teeth together as the axe swung around viciously. Then the backswing came as a softer speed. An idea formed in Masagh’s mind. Swing, weaker backswing, dodge. If he was able to strike the axe again perhaps he could send it askew once more. Swing, backswing, dodge. If he was able to do that, perhaps he could create the opening he needed. Swing, backswing, dodge. He needed to be prepared to control, or aim, the reverberation.

---

[Masagh]

---

He steeled himself and stepped back from the golem’s attacks. Then when the golem made another horizontal strike, Masagh whipped his blade down. It caught the axe on the backswing, sending the weapon reeling and his own sword dancing in his hands. Masagh didn’t attempt to control it, but just thrust the reeling blade forward in that heartbeat. The tip connected with the golem’s shoulder and he felt a surge of triumph. In the same moment something connected with the side of his helmet with the power of a raging bull.

Suddenly Masagh went cartwheeling to the side. The world went black.

Sense came back and his vision was blurred. Masagh groaned and tried to sit up, he was laying on the flagstones. His head felt like it had been cracked open and someone had shoved liquid metal into the hole. He blinked and groaned some more. Opening his eyes he saw the vague shapes appearing in his vision were resolving themselves into faces.

Sabrione, Arthur, and Cleon all crouched over him looking down at him with various degrees of concern. Seeing his eyes refocus, Sabrione smirked. “Hey, there he is.” She grabbed him by the edge of the cuirass and hefted him up. His head reeled and he felt nausea rising in his gut. “You won, brother.” She said with laughter in her tone.

“Ah, fuck, my head.” Masagh groaned, opening his mouth wide and dropping his face into his hands.

“Congratulations, you are very lucky.” Arthur’s deep voice said as Sabrione rose and announced the winner to the crowd. Masagh heard a chorus of cheers and clapping and winced.

“Please make them stop.” He muttered, palming his eye sockets and wishing he was still unconscious.

Emerande’s voice rose from the dais. “We will take another ten minute break before conducting the championship match, Sir Cleon versus Sir Masagh!” More cheering and Masagh rolled over onto his side.

“Come on, we’ll get some food in you and you will be okay.” He heard Cleon say and hands grasped him again. They pulled him up and Masagh followed without argument as he was lead over to a chair. Cleon and Calliope had helped him and now watching him struggle with a mixture of amusement and sympathy.

Riah appeared with a bit of flesh and held it out to him. “Impressive win, Masagh. Here take this, it will help.” She said, grinning. “You really earned that one.”

“I liked that last deflection. Too bad the golem was a bit too fast for it.” Cleon said, shaking his head.

Masagh ignored their analysis of his fight. He systematically shredded the meat from the bone and gave his full attention to consuming it and controlling his breathing. By the sixth minute he was more clear headed. He had a splitting headache, but he could at least look around without wincing. By minute nine he had eaten a whole arm and a bit of belly meat besides and his knees had stopped shaking.

Arthur had come over to apologize and Masagh had waved him off. It was part of the tourney and no need to apologize for trying to win. It was his own fault for not ducking. Riah and Calliope were discussing tactics he could use against Cleon, who had left to get his own food and prepare. Masagh paid no attention to their suggestions as he ate. Then his mother had come over to check on him and Masagh had gotten to his feet and ensured her he was perfectly capable of continuing.

All in all the ten minute break came and went far too quickly for Masagh’s liking. Before he knew it Calliope and Riah were beckoning his to return to the arena where Cleon waited. He watched the knight swing his arm loose as he approached. He had beaten Riah and Holstein easily, and Masagh had been hoping to give him a run for his money, but that last blow from Arthur’s monstrosity had shaken him.

No matter, Masagh growled in his helmet and swung his own sword before him. He hadn’t fought this hard and come this far to not give a good showing now. He’d force Cleon to work for the win. Masagh rolled forward onto the balls of his feet and slid his rear foot back, falling into a ready stance.

“Ready? Fight!”

And they were rushing forward. Unlike the golems he had fought, Cleon was roughly his same size. The bout quickly took on the familiar cadence of a training match. He didn’t have to probe his opponent’s skill or style. Masagh and Cleon had been sparring for over a hundred years. They both knew each other’s movements and tells intimately. Their blades swirled through the air and clashed with the familiar ring of the training ring.

Cleon increased tempo and Masagh matched, reading the shift in his stance as the older knight stepped forward. A thrust at Masagh’s torso was the same one with the slight drop of the shoulder he had used a thousand times. Masagh deflected the blade and slid his own along the length in a counter-thrust. His head was still splitting with ache.

As Cleon backed away and forced Masagh to side step, he felt a surge of pain in his head at the jolting movement. He could not see Cleon’s face through the slitted helm, but the head tilted slightly. Had Masagh let out a groan?

Cleon suddenly sidestepped again and brought his blade around. Masagh followed and gritted his teeth as his head blossomed with more pain. He brought his sword up but Cleon was no longer there. He had shifted back onto his rear foot and his blade wove between Masagh’s arms. He stumbled back as the tip darted in and tapped against the cuirass right over his heart.

“Point to Sir Cleon!” Sabrione yelled.

---