Alpha flew backward as my dope-as-tits Spartan kick landed perfectly in the center of his torso. He hit the ground hard with an angry groan. I wasn’t sure if that surprise move was going to go well considering I’d abandoned my boots earlier and was still barefoot. Apparently, I was a fucking savant when it came to this sort of thing, though, and naked tootsie or not…Loon gon’ kick.

I laughed, yanking my haladie out of my waistband—I still hadn’t picked up a utility belt—and aimed it at him.

“Do you yield?” I demanded, trying my best to imitate a mighty knight of old.

Alpha held his hand up, struggling to breathe.

“Ha!” I said, shooting a look at the assembly with a wide grin. “Did you guys see that?! He yielded!”

“I’m…not…yielding…you…fuck,” Alpha wheezed, finally gaining the ability to stand, but still doing so very poorly. “That’s…not…how the fucking Duellum…works.”

“Fuck off,” I said disbelievingly. “You said to say the words, so I say the damn words.”

“As much as I enjoyed viewing the immediate and utterly embarrassing tyrannical toppling of such a wretchedly pathetic man as him,” said the gray-skinned devil woman from nearby. “Unfortunately, he is correct. It is not how the Duellum is conducted.”

I scowled at the group.

“The fuck?” I huffed. “I figured you guys would be more than happy to see me take him down a peg. Even if that’s not how it works, I still whipped his ass. Ain’t there, like, points for style?”

“There are rules you fucking cuck,” Alpha continued, apparently having found his oxygen once more. “We’ve gotta go to the spot.”

“What spot?” I said.

Alpha gestured to an indeterminate place to my right. I craned my neck to look and noticed a clearing near the…central area of the camp. Around the edges of the flat, otherwise featureless ground were symbols that seemed like, if this wasn’t Incantation Town, would have been airbrushed on.

“You can’t fight me unless it’s inside your clearly booby-trapped Thunderdome? No dice, junior. I’m stupid, but not stupid enough to think that you don’t have some sort of magical bullshit to spring on me the moment I enter that bitch. Let’s do it right here.”

“You fuckin—” Alpha started, but Saban interrupted him, placing a calming hand on my shoulder.

“There’s a process,” he said with a smile. “You accept the duel by saying the words, but then you have to set perimeters, and go through the formal steps.”

“Aw, man—formalities?!” I demanded. “This is dopey. Ain’t no codes of conduct in a real fight! I use the laws of the street!”

“Do you, now?” Edwig wondered.

“Shut up, Edwig,” I said.

“Yes, let him use the street!” Rexen commanded. “Each cobblestone shall be an emphatic grave marker as my pupil pummels his foe into paste! What a delight!”

“That’s not what ‘laws of the street’ means,” Rua said.

“Yes it does!” Rexen clarified.

Rua just shook her head, taking the intelligent path of not arguing with insanity.

“Gah!” I moaned. “Fine! What’re the rules, then?”

“You—” Alpha started, but Edwig interrupted him

“As the contested,” the illisinaf explained, “you are able to choose the time, place, and type of duel that it will be, so you should be able to—”

“Nope!” Alpha interrupted him in return, sidling forward. Edwig seemed taken aback, and incredibly offended by being corrected.

“Pah! I’m confident in how the rules are—”

“Shut up, snot monster,” Alpha said. “Whatever you think you know, you’re wrong. My Duellum is different.”

“Of course it is,” I groaned. “Lemme guess, no matter the outcome, you win? I have to have one hand tied behind my back and you get a gun? Listen, I ain’t letting you…”

I paused, unable to find the proper idiom. God dammit, it was on the tip of my tongue, too.

“...have your cake and eat it too?” Rua offered.

“Yeah! That one!” I exclaimed.

“I thought so,” Alpha sneered, insinuating something I wasn’t privy to.

“Thought nothin!’” I returned. “Just tell me your dipshit-ass rules, Alf. It won’t matter anyway, because I’m gonna beat your ass so bad you're gonna cry every time you even think about putting pants on.”

“The rule is…” Alpha said, suddenly dramatic in his reveal. “We fight. In the ring. To the death.”

“Is that all?” I asked, chuckling. “Son, in case you didn’t know, that ain’t much of a rule for our kind.”

I was met with a wall of silence. I cocked an eyebrow, glancing at the somber assembly before me. No one wanted to meet my eyeline, like I’d just made a weirdly insensitive joke. Which was weird, because I usually knew exactly what I’d said to make someone uncomfortable.

“Unless there’s something about the Duellum that makes that a serious consequence?” I wondered to the masses.

“For incomprehensible reasons,” the devil-woman said, “a Duellum arrests the typical reaction. Anyone who expires within its confines…is gone forever.”

“Wait, what?!” I exclaimed.

I snapped my head to Alpha, who was still smirking.

“You’re out here murdering people? Oh, that does it, you dwarf bitch. Bring it on.”

Alpha shook his head, laughing.

“It’s your literal funeral, fucker.”

“Yeah…” I said darkly. “We’ll see about that.”

—-

I twisted my neck, wrenching it to-and-fro to get the kinks out. Then I made a show of windmilling my arms in circles. I was gonna warm up like a motherfucker, if for no other reason than to show I meant business.

I was standing on one side of the magical circle and Alpha was on the other, doing his own stretches. He seemed far too confident for the severe ramifications that he could potentially be on the losing side of—which actually made me a bit nervous. Bravado was one thing, but in a life-or-death situation, you’d think there’d be even a teeny-weeny kernel of visible anxiousness. But there wasn’t any. If perma-death was on the table, I’d bet biscuits to ball hairs that this incorrigible son of a skidmark had something up his sleeve he thought gave him the upper hand. That meant I had to find out what that was.

“Rua,” I said, gesturing for her to approach. The red-haired elf woman trotted over with a grim expression on her face, but quickly fixed a very transparently unconfident grin on her features as she got close.

“Hey, what’s up?” She asked in forced casualness.

“Alright, this seems fucky,” I said. “Don’t put on a brave face, dammit, you’re bad at it. It’s making me more uncomfortable. Just shoot it to me straight: how bad is this gonna be?”

“Well…” Rua trailed off, seeming to try and find the right words to not give me an emotional gut punch. “Not…super…swell?”

“Fuck,” I hissed. “What am I missing? Does he have, like, a magic rocket launcher or something?”

“He’s got some kind of corrosive magic,” Saban said, suddenly joining us. “Like an acid, or something.”

I glanced at the man who was now shorter than me than he had been in our old world. Man, just when I was able to appreciate some of the things about this fresh existence, I was about to die forever.

“Acid?” I asked. “Like, he sprays it?”

“It’s got a few forms,” Saban continued. “Sometimes it’s liquid, sometimes gas—like a cloud. That one is nasty.”

“Jesus,” I said. “How many times has he done this?”

Rua shrugged.

“Just once, but—”

“Three times,” Saban interrupted soberly.

“Huh?” Rua asked. “He did it twice while I was gone?”

Saban nodded, his eyes on Alpha at the far end of the circle.

“Weren’t you only gone for a few days?” I accused. “He’s a fucking psychopath!”

“Loon, listen,” Saban said. “This is really, really bad, alright?”

“No fucking duh,” I agreed.

“Every single time, the duel is over quick. He tries to win right away. Fortunately, I’ve seen how he fights,” my old friend continued. “Both in a Duellum and against the things that have attacked us. He always starts off with a distracting blast of the stuff, then he hits them wherever they move to. Most of his attacks are mid-to-long range, so staying back is not a great option—though it does give you more reaction time.”

I sighed.

“But, even if you were to get up close, that’s when he’s going to use the cloud version of his attack. It’s only got a range directly around him and is more a defensive measure—but it’s still going to eat through your flesh like a buzzsaw.”

“My flesh?” I asked. “But I’m mostly flesh!”

I glanced down at my lack of anything resembling protective gear. I’d ditched the Sojourner threads back in Tallrock for a blue shirt and a leather jerkin, as well as a pair of buckskin pants. I still had my Trespasser's Veil, which allowed me to be oh-so-stealthy, but I didn’t think that a blank clearing in broad daylight was the best location for hide-and-seek. I’d donned my Grennalyn’s Gussying Gauntlets, for that bit of extra oomf, but other than my pack, I didn’t have much. I had almost equipped the Guardian’s Buckler, but I thought I might need both hands for bustin’ some chops. I sorta wished I still had Berg’s helmet to protect my dome a little better—but I’d lost it in the fight with one of the oomukade days ago.

“Anyone hiding a HAZMAT suit under their hat?” I asked.

“I’ve got knowledge—and secrets—under mine,” Rexen said, appearing next to us suddenly and miming removing a cap that was not there from his head. He looked up where his handless appendage was, confused.

“Arjee,” I intoned. “I think you went and found yourself some more senility.”

“What happened to my hat?” the specter wondered.

“You never had one!” Edwig said, suddenly arriving as well.

Rexen scowled darkly at the amorphous illisinaf.

“I’ve had one this whole time,” he corrected. “I just don’t know where it is right now. Did one of these creatures burgle it?”

His swirly eyes narrowed further as he perused the group of Sojourners in the camp.

“So what’re the rules to this thing exactly?” I asked, ignoring the creature that I was technically the property of.

“Well, in a typical Duellum,” Edwig began, gesturing toward the circle. “You can essentially do whatever you need to to win—since this one’s a fight to the death, and all.”

“Ugh,” I groaned. “Don’t remind me. But, anything goes actually gives me a very optimistic outlook on the whole—”

“Well, not anything,” the blob-man clarified.

“Goddammit,” I exclaimed. “So what, then?”

“You’re not allowed to have outside help,” Rua said. “So, none of us can step in. Neither can…”

She gestured to Jumpy, Clucky, Slappy, and Mortimer.

“Aw, man, really?” I whined.

I turned to look at the possessed roe, and shook my head.

“Sorry, boys,” I said. “Looks like daddy’s gotta do it all on his own—single parent style.”

“But you can use any weapons or items you bring in,” Edwig offered. “Since there were no exceptions made when the Duellum was accepted.”

“Alright,” I said, feeling a bit better. “This is good—see, this is the kind of information I need. So, he’s got acid and junk—any weapons?”

“He’s got a hatchet that he doesn’t really utilize much,” Saban said. “Tends to stick to his Spells, but I’d still watch out for it. He’s also got some potions on his belt.”

I turned to look at Alpha who was—was he doing the fucking splits? What a show off. I squinted, noticing an array of colorful bottles hanging above his waist.

“He’s got a utility belt?” I asked. “Woah, where’d he get something like that? And where did those potions come from, did he find ‘em?”

I couldn’t imagine this crew—least of all the domineering dwarf—had been able to procure any kind of magical manufacturing for potions.

“Not sure,” Saban admitted. “It might be part of his Class, but…yeah, I dunno.”

“Any idea what they do?”

“Only one of them,” Saban said. “Something called an Eagerness Dram.”

“What’s that do?” I asked. “Sounds like a euphemism for boner pills.”

“It’s—”

“It boosts Stamina and Defense,” Edwig interrupted him. “Low Tier—probably Common or below. It’s not a true potion, either—almost exclusively appears as part of Class Ability. If I had to bet on it, I’d say the effect would last only about ten seconds—fifteen at most.”

Edwig squinted at the others hanging from Alpha’s belt.

“Let’s see. Looks like…a Potion of Speed, a couple of health tinctures…not sure what that purple one is—wait, is he a Blight Brewer?”

“How’d you know?” Rua asked, surprised.

“Pah! Rua, I’m a researcher. Arcana’s my chips and jam. It’s a fairly common Class—at least in the circles I orbit—not particularly sophisticated in combat, but focused around potion production with a lighter emphasis on corrosive defense.”

Edwig paused to look in the dwarf’s direction, raising an eyebrow.

‘It’s not a great dueling Class—or, at least—I wouldn’t think it would be…”

“Well, regardless,” I said, clapping my hands together, “that’s what he’s using it for. So, guess you need to get back to the…Bunsen burner on that theory.”

“The what?” Edwig asked.

“Nothing—nevermind!” I said. “Maybe I can wrestle some of those away from him.”

“Pah! Not on your life, orc,” Edwig said. “If they’re Class-based, they’ve got an arcane seal on them.”

“A what?”

“It keeps what is his, his,” Rexen added helpfully. “Or what is his, mine.”

“Now you’re talking. Take notes, gang. Arjee here is going to be devising a way to steal his gooey gumdrop buttons.”

“Yes!” Rexen said. “You kill him, disciple, and I will help you reap the benefits.”

“Okay, see, now that’s less helpful, Arjee—”

“I don’t think you have time to be messing around and arguing,” Rua said. “The Duellum is about to start.”

I sighed.

“You’re right, we’re outta time. Anyone have any final words of wisdom or nuggets of advice?”

Everyone just stared back at me blankly.

"Alright, cool," I declared, picking up my haladie. I felt the weight in my hands, finding some comfort in its familiarity. "Let's do this thing."

Alpha was now standing, hatchet in hand, a cocky grin plastered on his face like a jack-o'-lantern. I found myself suddenly wishing that I had a pumpkin carving knife.

"You're a goner, fuckhead," Alpha jeered. "You've bitten off more than you can chew."

"I've got a big mouth, asshole," I shot back. "I can fit a whole buncha shit in it."

Ignoring the snickers from the crowd, Alpha stepped into the ring, standing at the very edge. He held up his hand, giving me a douchey 'come hither' gesture.

“Get your ass in here, bitch,” he barked.

I grimaced, glancing at Rua. She was attempting to muster a reassuring smile, but it came off as more of a painful grimace. Not the morale boost I was hoping for.

"I'm not too thrilled about the death thing, but you should know, Stumpy," I called out, pointing my haladie in Alpha’s direction. "I fight dirty."

"Yeah, I’m fucking trembling," he said.

I took a deep breath, then stepped into the ring. It was eerily quiet, the only sound the crunching of pebbles under my bare feet. There was a tension in the air, so palpable that you could carve through it with a knife—but I didn’t have a knife. I had a haladie, and I barely knew how to use it. I looked across the circle, locking eyes with Alpha. His pupils danced with an unsettling excitement.

Well, time to fight for my life. Classic Loon.

"All right," I called out. "Let's get this party started, chump."