“Don’t worry folks, we will find out why the safety warding has gone down shortly. It looks like the Gilgerith is taking another run at the participants. If you brought young children with you tonight, send them home. Without the safety warding this is going to stay messy,” came the voice of the announcer.

Deacon got up to his feet. Apparently, there were others in here with him. He looked left and right, finally he spotted a group of fifteen or so individuals sprinting on the far side of the arena grounds. They were being chased by what looked like the body of a rhinoceros. Only it had four horns on its head with a spiky-ridged fan around the back of its skull. Almost like a triceratops. It’s back had more spikes leading down to a bifurcated tail. Each tail ended in bulbous and solid bone mass. It used one of its tails to smash one of the fleeing participants into paste. Then there were fourteen.

Deacon pulled off his suit jacket and folded it neatly. He walked over to the wall and placed it down where the wall met the floor. Dropping the cummerbund right on top of it. Then he proceeded to unbutton both cuffs and rolled the sleeves up to his elbows. Subsequently exposing his guild mark still without the dragons eye.

“He doesn’t look like he’s doing much of anything folks. Let’s focus back on the other participants,” said the announcer trying to keep the audience engaged. The crowd booed Deacon for slowly getting ready.

Deacon gave the crowd the finger as he turned and stepped toward running crowd. The Gilgerith looked to be about seven feet tall at the shoulder. The biggest obstacle is going to be those tails. Deacon used Polterheist to pull weapons off their places on the wall. As long as they were less than nine and half pounds he was in the clear. It looked like a floating cloud of swords, maces, knives, and one handed hammers. The walking arsenal got the attention of the Gilgerith as Deacon inserted himself between the monstrosity and the people running. The Gilgerith stopped it’s pursuit and cocked it’s head like a dog that didn’t understand. It then pawed at the ground with its front right leg.

“Are you going to help us?” called out a woman in tattered clothes who was brave enough to stop running after Deacon’s appearance.

“I’m going to kill the monster. It would be great if you all could keep feeding me weapons.” Deacon replied.

“You don’t have enough already?” she asked.

“Pay attention,” said Deacon as he reached out the next orbiting weapon facing the spiky terror. It shot forward smacking the monster in the forehead but being deflected by the bony protrusions. That seemed to be enough for the monster as it began to charge. Deacon slapped out with both hands now firing off multiple weapons at a time while back peddling. Several of them scored deep groves on the rough grey-green flesh of the Gilgerith. Then one of the tails came down on Deacon. He lifted both arms to block. It slammed into his forearms with a deep thud. Deacon felt the ground beneath him give a little. Apparently, the creature wasn’t magical in nature, so he received no damage. That coupled with no cost for using Polterheist has kept his risk level low. He wasn’t even using any of his more obvious monk abilities, so he thought he’d be safe from the discerning eyes of the crowd. This monster however was not used to its targets not going squish. The gasp from the crowd settled down as Deacon fired off his last two weapons. One was a dagger and the other was a mace. The mace head smashed into the ridge above the creatures forehead forcing its head back. Just in time for the dagger to plunge into its left eye. It began to stomp around pawing at its head in an attempt to dislodge the knife.

“I could use some more weapons over here,” he said before the other tail slammed into his right side sending him skidding back into the other participants. Looking up, Deacon could see they held weapons out to him. Standing up he gestured for the farthest one to toss him the weapon. It was caught by Polterheist, and the others finally caught on to the idea. One guy tried to toss a two handed war maul that just slammed to the ground in front of Deacon.

“What’s wrong? Big hero doesn’t like the weapon I chose for him?” said the rough looking man.

“Too heavy, smart ass.” Deacon said as he moved off toward creature again. This time he was going to use intangibility to avoid its swipes while firing off the weapons. He believed this would be enough to escape the discerning eye of whatever monk schools were in attendance.

“Can you believe this fight? He’s barely touching those weapons and he’s already battered the Gilgerith. We never thought the monster would be the underdog in this event. You people are really getting your money’s worth tonight. Up in the booth we’ve used the mage dome to display what ability the champion is using to do that. It says, Polterheist. Never heard of that before,” said the announcer.

Deacon didn’t like that. If they could pull up and display his abilities to the crowd he’d be caught for sure. He had little time to worry about it as the Gilgerith charged him. It was full of fury and lashing at him with its tails. While he was intangible, the weapons were not. Deacon began to evade tail slashes anyway just to keep the few weapons he had at hand. Otherwise he’d have to actually go mano a mano. Deacon was close enough to it he didn’t need to aim his shots. He began swiping his hands toward the creature. A sword whipped out and jammed itself a foot deep into the beasts side. It was followed by what looked like a hatchet and then a butchers knife. The Gilgerith visibly began to slow as its life blood was pooling on the ground around it. Both tails slammed into the ground behind it as it sagged onto its belly. Someone had thrown Deacon a spear at some point. He walked closer to the gasping creature, floated the spear just behind its skull ridge and fired it through the neck. It gasped out once and stopped moving. Deacon too the opportunity to absorb its soul. It felt like an uncommon soul and had he used any soul energy he would have received a ten percent increase.

The crowd erupted in boos and shouts of disapproval. The must have come from people who bet heavily on the monster winning the day. All the other participants hooted and hollered behind Deacon. The woman who spoke to him originally walked up behind him.

“That was magnificent. I’ve never seen anything like it,” she said reaching out to him.

Deacon took a step back. Turned toward where he left his things and began heading over to them.

“Wasn’t that exciting patrons? Let’s have a big round of applause for our special guest combatant tonight. Champion, would like to say something to the crowd? Your voice will be enhanced by the enchantments in the arena. Now’s your chance,” said the announcer feigning excitement.

“Regulators, mount up,” was all he said as he began picking up his things.

In the crowd the rest of his team was already moving. As soon as Ralph spied Deacon landing in the arena, he knew this was it. Before Deacon left with the Jester, he met with everyone inside Alfred. That’s where they determined the emergency code phrase they would use when the shit hit fan. Deacon couldn’t be convinced that his time here would go smoothly no matter how much protection the crown offered. He had already been attacked three times since being there. Once any of them said the code phrase it meant its time to pack up and leave. No long explanations. It was time to drop everything and go. Ralph agreed. They needed to be on their way. They now had a solid lead on where Ruby was and Deacon’s commitment to the crown had been fulfilled. Deacon dropping from inside the dome in a bright flash as the safety wards failed was no coincidence. The Deactastrophe had started.

Tantus made it to the exit and was rebounded from a magical barrier. There were a scant amount of guards in sight and the ones he could see were slumped on the ground bleeding. He turned back to Ralph only to see Amanda scaling the walls and climbing over the lip. She stood from the top of the walls and shook her head. All eyes were looking down into he arena. They had no idea that something was terribly wrong. Amanda lowered a rope for Ralph and Tantus to climb. Once they both reached the top Amanda looked down the outside of the colosseum. The streets were practically empty which should be impossible on a huge night of games. There should be some vendors or messengers running back and forth with results. They needed to find a better way out.

Back in the pit, Deacon stood and turned as a set of double doors opened and the people he defended ran out. Turning to leave he stopped short after hearing the announcers next message.

“We have a new challenger for the Champion of Chimera. Looks like a formal challenge from the third ranked team during the group fight competition. Filthy Mike and the boys. Will the Champion accept?” prodded the announcer.

“Yes. I accept,” screamed Deacon as he dropped his now forgotten garments. He spun around wildly searching for the men who had been such a pain in his ass from the moment he got here. No sooner did he begin looking than a door on the opposite side of the arena opened. Three familiar faces emerged, showboating for the crowd. This explained why they worked so well together. He couldn’t wait any longer. Deacon sprinted toward them. Pumping his legs in an impressive Olympian-like dash across the sand. When they saw him coming, they formed up quick.

The archer fired into a black oval to his right as Filthy Mike stepped forward to meet Deacon’s charge. The swordsmen wheeled out to Mikes left to get a good angle on Deacon. Mike absorbed Deacon’s forward momentum sliding backward two feet in the sand. Once again Deacon was impressed with this mans ability to stay on his feet. He was hoping to flip the man over and engage the swordsman but that wasn’t going to happen. The swordsman struck out with a glowing green and brown sword. Deacon hopped backwards right into an arrow in his left side. It sunk at least two inches into him. His health dropped by fifteen percent.

“This is it for you. No more dancing. If you forfeit this match and come quietly, we’ll even get that arrow out of you. If not, we’re allowed to beat you unconscious and drag you out of here. Make the smart decision.” Mime said wearing his typical shit eating grin.

“Counteroffer. I kill all three of you here and now. It’s not much of an offer since that’s exactly what’s about to happen. Spoilers,” was Deacon’s response as he ripped the arrow out of his side, and it shot out of his hand right at the swordsman. He sliced it out of the air in an impressive display of blade work. It was enough to distract him as Deacon uses spectral dodge to close the distance. He hit him just under the chin with an uppercut that tossed him into the air to land on his stomach. Deacon was then tackled to the ground by Filthy Mike. He used the moment to roll Mike off of him and toss him up with his feet. Deacon rolled to the right, away from Mike as two arrows plunged into the ground where he was. He was never going to get follow up hits in with all three of them working together. Polterheist lifted the two arrows out of the ground and Deacon threw them at the archer. They wouldn’t have the same impact as actually touching them, but he didn’t need them to. The archer opened a dark portal in front of him to catch the arrows. At the same time Deacon used Dragon Claw Barrage to both close the distance to the swordsman and rip him to shreds. Filthy Mike tried to stop his charge but missed falling into the path of the arrows the archer sent back toward Deacon. The swordsman dropped his blade as blood gushed from multiple slashes across his face and body. He sunk down to his knees and stopped breathing.

Deacon placed a hand on his head and absorbed his soul. This one was also uncommon. That would help to recoup the fifty percent soul energy cost of the barrage. That meant a net cost of forty percent. Deacon was down to one hundred thirty five percent health and two hundred sixty percent soul energy. If he could take out the other two in quick succession, he may not even need to show all his cards. These three were dying today.

Filthy Mike looked like someone had shot his dog. His face was beat red, and he was huffing like a steam engine. The archer was scowling at Deacon as he opened two black portals and readied an arrow. Mike looked as if the sand was caking his body. Then it all solidified into a dirt and sand mixed plate mail armor set complete with helmet.

Deacon took a deep breath to steady himself. His first move would decide this fight. They obviously had weapons that could hurt him. No question there. He was wining the moral portion of the fight though.

“Uh oh folks, looks like the Champion has taken out one of the boys. It also seems the Dirt Gladiator has used his Earth Armor ability. Good luck Champion of Chimera. You’ll need it,” came the voice of the announcer.

That’s it. Luck. Deacon closed his eyes and concentrated on the world around him. In between breaths, he felt a distortion to his right side. Something that just felt off. He shot his right hand out and grabbed a handful of leather armor. With his eyes opened he yanked the body of the archer through the dark portal he previously created. The shocked archer was wide eyed with his top half hanging out of the portal and his lower half dangling fifty feet behind the charging Mike.

Mike was moving too fast to stop his forward momentum. He was coming down on Deacon with a handed smash, but Deacon moved as the strike came down on the back of the Archers head. Blood and brains splattered at Mike’s feet as his teammate slid down through the event horizon of the portal severing his top half from the bottom.

“Now it’s just you and me. Shit for brains. I’m going to make this slow and painful,” Deacon commented from ten feet back. He activated his new Dragon Scale Armor ability and switched his title from Wode Guardian to The Mangler. Pale green light cascaded down Deacon’s body to reveal scaled and sharp armor. The shoulder pauldrons were pointy, the torso was green leather and green scaled greaves covering his lower legs. It seemed that five percent chance was all he needed as Mike turned tail and ran for the nearest door screaming something about forfeiting.

Deacon grabbed what was left of the swordsman and hurled it at Mike. It splattered off of his back and earning a retching sound from the big man. Then Deacon was upon him. The dirt armor was tough, but Deacon kept striking him with blow after blow. Clods of dirt kept falling from Mike’s body as the barrage of attacks rained down. The large man came back to his senses a few moments later and Mike’s training kicked in.

Mike lashed out at Deacon with a right cross, but he felt so cold all of a sudden. He could see his own breath and it was like he was moving in slow motion. The scaled armor wearing Deacon just stood there smiling and easily sidestepped his fist. Mike didn’t understand what was happening until he looked at his slate notifications.

You have been affected by Touch of the Void. You are slowed for the next minute.

“You know, I’ve got to praise your resilience. I haven’t been able to train this ability much. Most things die quickly when I fight them, or I’ve been asked not to kill things. But you see you’re special. I hate you enough to break any and all promises I may have made. I’m going to enjoy this,” taunted Deacon as he began systemically forcing all of Mike’s joints the wrong way before twisting his head around backward. All while the crowd cheered him on with chants of death to the empire.