Author's Note: This Geek Pride Day story takes place in a world very similar to our own. Many things will seem familiar while others are different in subtle or outrageous ways. This is by design and no cause for concern. Just enjoy the ride. If you're in a playful mood, feel free to keep an eye out for fifteen songs I've hidden in the story. Can you find them all?
Thanks go out to my lady love, for the usual ass-kicking and allowing me to use some of her characters. Even more thanks to bikoukumori, for a fantastic editing job and planting the seed for the succubus brothel. And of course big thanks to my valiant guinea pigs- ... I mean beta readers, for whipping this story into shape. My pain is your gain.
This story contains scenes of explicit violence and gore. All participants in sexual activities are adults.
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Torches lined the curving stairwell leading into the monastery's dungeon. Laura made her way down the weathered steps, uneven with centuries of use. She walked slowly.
The last thing I need now is a sprained ankle, not this close to my graduation,
she thought. Three revolutions around the stairwell's core and she had reached her destination. A long, arched corridor led away into darkness, with only a small oil lamp next to a door to the right offering a smidge of illumination. She took the lamp and opened the door. Inside, she lit a three-armed candelabra. There wasn't much to see apart from a low stool and a chest holding the equipment she would need for today's ceremony.
The last one
, Laura promised herself.
Ten years of trying to find my place and what did that get me? More bruises than I can remember and still no divine inspiration.
She threw open the lid of the chest and withdrew its contents. A set of training armor and a bastard sword in its scabbard, both smelling of freshly cured leather. Laura pulled a hand's width of blade free and scowled.
Dull. Of course. No one needs to get hurt.
She donned the stiff leathers and attached the scabbard to her belt then she reclaimed the small lamp and left the room. Everything in Briou was done with purpose, even leaving most of the dungeons bereft of light. It was the Order's mission to drive the darkness away and, even in its most mundane tasks, this mission was upheld. Using a wick, Laura lit a series of lamps along the corridor's left side until she reached its end. She deposited the lamp in an alcove and turned to face the tall double doors leading ahead.
The stone doors rumbled inwards without her even touching them. Beyond, a large domed hall awaited. A singular shaft of daylight lanced down from the ceiling above, illuminating a sandy circle thirty feet across. The rest of the room was shrouded in shadows but she could hear whispers and shallow breathing echoing off the high walls. A lone figure waited in the circle, a tall female dark elf, wearing a similar set of combat leathers and casually hefting a twin to her own sword. Icy white hair was tied back in a firm braid and a friendly smile played around her lips as Laura came closer.
"You, Arach?"
The dark elf offered a slight bow. "No one said guest instructors are forbidden from assessing a candidate's prowess. The headmaster approved so you'll have to suffer me on your big day."
Laura drew her weapon. "Alright then. Prepare for an ass-kicking of epic proportions then." She raised her blade and cautiously advanced.
"At last!" Arach slowly circled Laura, well out of her blade's reach. "Today will be the day Frau Stürmer will punish me for all the bruises I inflicted!"
Laura chuckled. "I hope you'll grant me at least one clean victory. God knows I have tried to beat you, despite all your dirty tricks."
"No one will grant you anything, neither here nor in the world outside," Arach said, easily keeping Laura at arm's length. "If you want your victory, you'll have to earn it." The dark elf changed her grip and offered a beckoning gesture.
From painful experience, Laura knew full well what would happen if she lunged at the smiling dark elf. And on cue, the moment she dashed ahead, Arach dropped one of those blasted orbs of darkness onto the arena, snuffing out Laura's vision.
She heard Arach come closer, the soft crunch of her boots giving her away.
Laura reacted with blistering speed, her sword intercepting her opponent's blade at the same time as she did a small side step to evade any off-hand or kick attacks Arach might launch her way. The blades rang against each other. Laura could smell the dark lavender scent Arach used to anoint her body with. She was very close by. Laura changed the grip on her sword to a one-handed one and swung her fist at gut level, grinning viciously as she made contact with her instructor's armor. Now fully aware where Arach was, she followed up with a quick kick against her instructor's inner calf, followed by a pommel strike from above which Arach narrowly avoided.
There was hasty movement and the scent was gone too. Laura retreated until she could see again, all the while guarding with her blade. There was a slow clap from the other side of the perfect, round globe of darkness.
"Not bad at all," Arach said. "Apart from the fact you're holding back. I should be on my knees, puking my guts out, not doing a little jig for the audience's enjoyment."
"I got your attention and your shapely ass out of that darkness," Laura said. "Your vomit on my leathers wasn't part of the plan." Instead of circling around the globe, she dashed right through it, to where she had heard the dark elf's smooth alto voice. To her own amazement, she caught Arach off-guard -- the dark elf had expected her to circle the globe, as she had done so many times before.
Her sword weaved a curtain of steel in front as she battered Arach back, step by step. The duel would end if one of them yielded or left the ring for whatever reason. Her attack pressured Arach straight back to the edge of the circle.
Panting and covered in a light sweat, Arach dug her heels in. She shook out her left wrist and a gleaming dagger appeared in her hand which she used to parry Laura's incoming attack. A brutal headbutt stopped Laura's advance in its tracks.
Blinking away tears, Laura retreated two steps. "You and your dirty tricks!" she spat, nodding at the dagger.
"As if the monsters out there will ever offer you a fair fight," Arach calmly explained. "From now on, the time for dull blades is over."
"No one told the Quartermaster. Mine's dull."
"If you want a sharp blade, you'll have to earn it." Arach flourished with hers. "All you have to do is take mine."
"Maybe I will. Or I could simply batter you into submission with my dull length of steel," Laura said, launching into a quick series of two-handed slashes and stabs. Arach was forced back onto the defensive, much too busy parrying Laura's vicious attacks with both of her weapons. Still, Laura failed to land that one decisive strike which would shatter Arach's seemingly impenetrable defense.
If brute strength won't work, maybe some fancy footwork will,
Laura thought, carving her foot in a sharp angle forward and kicking up a wall of sand. Arach had no choice but to avert her gaze or risk eyes full of sand. A moment later, Laura was through. She swatted Arach's sword aside with her blade and followed up with a hard wrench on that pesky dagger's cross guard. To her own surprise, Laura ended up with the weapon
"Oh, the Paladin's daughter has teeth," Arach laughed, jumping into the air. Again calling on her dark elven heritage, she levitated upwards and lashed out with her boot, missing Laura's face by a hair.
"Must be my witch mother's blood talking then," Laura snarled, dropping both weapons and grabbing the dark elf's foot, now at eye level. One hand around the booted ankle, she brutally twisted the foot, hoping to break whatever spell was holding Arach a good six feet off the ground. A pained grunt from above was warning enough. Twisting at the hip, Laura slammed Arach into the sand. Not waiting if the move had stunned her victim, Laura pounced, pinning Arach's arms to the sand with her knees. Draping her forearm across the writhing dark elf's neck, she exerted enough pressure to get her point across.
"Yield!" she ordered. A small shake of the head - and a knee to her back -- was all the answer she needed. Laura gritted her teeth and pushed down harder, locking in the choke. Arach's gaze was locked with hers until she fell unconscious. Laura immediately lifted her arm and checked Arach's vitals.
She'll be okay... I hope.
"The fight has concluded. Winner: Laura Stürmer!" a hollow, ghostly voice announced. There was a soft murmuring, a hint of applause. A shadowy figure wrapped in a monk's robe entered the circle and gestured imperiously. Laura slid off the unconscious instructor. The robed figure knelt down next to Arach and touched her forehead with a silver cross, chanting softly. With a gasp, Arach sat up, clutching her throat.
"Ow," she rasped.
"Are you okay?" Laura asked, relief filling her voice. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
"Being choked never is much fun, not even in bed," Arach croaked. "Still, as far as fight finishes went, you got me good." Taking the monk's hand, she got to her feet.
"Nonsense. You let me win," Laura insisted. "I can't believe you had no counter to a simple bodyslam and choke combo."
Arach coughed. "I had no idea you'd slam me out of my Levitate spell. Everything went to Hell after that. You beat me and I have the splitting headache to show for it." She closed the distance and hugged Laura emphatically. "Congratulations. The Order of Martinius welcomes you."
Laura hugged her back. "Thank you, I guess."
The dark elf took a step back and pulled a silver necklace from a belt pouch. A slender cross dangled from it, the edges picked out in blue. "Let me be the one to bestow the Order's badge of office upon you."
Laura took the necklace from her, somehow expecting the item to crumble to dust upon touching it. But nothing like that happened. It was a simple silver cross, imbued with a wisp of holy magic to turn away low-level undead even in the hands of a non-cleric. She donned the necklace and met Arach's gaze.
