Fantasy Brawl

The wizard’s terror bolt lances overhead. You shout back to your party that you’re going in. Dagger held high and ice shard at the ready you tear towards the dastardly spell caster. How does your fight play out?

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549 thoughts on “Fantasy Brawl

  1. rebekkalynn9800

    I hope you all like my story. I put it together in about an hour, so I not really sure how it turned out. I would really like people to comment and tell me what they thought of it. Anyways, enjoy!

    One Of Us

    I didn’t understand how it all came to this. I looked at the desolation around me and my team. “Why… Why did he do this…” I thought as looked out of our hiding place. I glared at the evil wizard that was once my friend. I remembered our last mission together: An evil spirit inhabiting a Amulet took over the body of a powerful ruler in a neighboring kingdom. Timaeus had completely destroyed the spirit without destroying the king. Up until then, everything was just fine. But, now, He was the enemy. It was just me and two others now: Lillian, one of the best swords maidens in the history of the kingdom, and Aaron, an elf who always had a dagger or bow at the ready.
    But nobody was ready for this.
    I glanced over at the fallen, the people who were killed trying to protect the Magic Crystal, a very powerful artifact that could either save the world or destroy it. Now, the only thing standing in between it and the now evil wizard Timaeus were the people who used to call him friend. I saw Aaron, ready to strike. I knew what he was feeling, because we all were feeling the same thing.
    Betrayed.
    He ran out from our hiding place, dagger held high. It never found it’s target. Timaeus stopped his attack with wall of rock and grabbed Aaron by the throat. “NO!!!” I screamed. I knew this attack because it was one he did often. Timaeus just smiled and laughed. I could see Aaron’s eyes as he struggled against him, even though it was no use. I heard Timaeus whisper the spell, sealing the fate of my friend.
    “Duratus Maximus!”
    I saw the ice beginning to cover Aaron’s body, until he was completely frozen. Timaeus laughed again and spoke to me, “Oh, don’t feel bad Rebekah. Here, you can have him back!” He flung Aaron’s now limp body over to me. Catching him, I looked for any signs of life. But, I found nothing. He was just… Gone.
    I realized I had started to cry, my tears falling on his face. He was more than a friend to me. He was someone I deeply cared about: My soon-to-be husband. I could feel my anger rising up inside me, a rage that was now directed towards Timaeus.
    This time, he went too far.
    I picked up Aaron’s dagger and realized that it was glowing. Looking past it, I saw that my whole body was doing the exact same thing. “Magic,” I whispered, “I have Magic.” Truthfully, I didn’t know what my skills were. I knew that I was good with a sword, even better with a dagger, but I never would have guessed I had Magic!
    Looking up at Timaeus, I realized that he had stopped floating in midair for now. The soldiers who remained were either too weak or too injured to fight him. He walked right past them, his cape billowing like smoke behind him. Now, he was close enough to the Crystal to gain it’s power.
    I ran up to him and pushed him back with a blast of Magical energy. He flew backwards, but stayed on his feet. He groaned and glared at me. Creating a ball of Ice Magic, he smirked. He had better control over Ice than any other type of Magic, so it made sense that he would use that attack. At this point, I didn’t care.
    “Your reign of terror ends here!” I screamed as I charged towards him. He looked stunned, to say the least. He wasn’t expecting me to move as fast as I did. He didn’t have enough time to react. I punched him hard and he slammed into the wall. Looking down, I saw the reason that I was glowing earlier. I was using Fire Magic. Ice Sorcerers was weak against those with Fire Magic.
    “I will avenge my fallen friends, Timaeus. You will not gain the power of the Crystal.” I was calmer now, but I was still angry at him. He began to stand, swaying at first, but then he gained his balance. Thats when I saw it.
    Dangling around his neck was the Amulet which contained the evil spirit we had fought in our last mission!
    “No.. It, it can’t be! It’s you! The evil spirit!” I shouted. Now I understood. Timaeus never betrayed us! All he did was put on the Amulet.
    “That’s right… And you are too late to stop me!!!” The evil spirit screamed and was tried to attack me again. I sidestepped the attack and prepared an attack of my own. But now, I had new motives.
    Now, I had to save him.
    I flipped over him, grabbing his shoulders and taking him with me. I flung him a few yards away and, using my newfound speed, ran forward and grabbed him again, slamming him into the ground.
    Lillian, who had been tending to the wounded, now jumped into action. She had a small amount of Nature Magic and I knew it may be the only way to save Timaeus. Rushing to my side, sword ready for action, she was still as beautiful as ever, even with the layer of dirt that covered her body and armor.
    I explained what was really happening and what we needed to do to save our friend. She was shocked, but we nodded and ran over to Timaeus. Using her Nature Magic, Lillian created strong vines that grabbed Timaeus’ arms and legs and she also put some leaves over his mouth to make sure he wouldn’t be able to cast any spells. The one weakness to Learned Magic is you need to speak to cast spells. My Magic was Natural Magic, meaning that I was born with it. I must have just been a late bloomer, because normally those with Natural Magic show signs of it early in life.
    I rushed forward and, infusing Aaron’s dagger with my Fire Magic, I lunged at him. But I never stabbed him. Instead, I grabbed the Amulet and slipped it off his neck. I looked down at the dagger. It was more than a weapon now. It was a symbol of Aaron’s strength and love. And I would not let his last act of courage go in vain.
    I lifted the dagger and brought it down hard on the Amulet, shattering it into dust.
    Lillian walked over to me after freeing Timaeus from his bonds. “It’s over Rebekah. We won.” she said, completely exhausted. I looked down at the dagger once more. Then, I looked back at her.
    “Did we? He’s gone, Lillian… He’s gone.”
    The tears returned and refused to stop flowing. I felt a hand on my shoulder, gentle yet strong. “I wouldn’t cancel the wedding plans just yet.” I spun around to face whoever spoke. “Aaron! You’re alive!” I said jumping up to see him. I wasn’t sure if I should slap him or kiss him. I chose the latter.
    “Hey, when you two are done, we need to start on clean up.” I heard Lillian say. We released each other and, laughing out loud, started to rebuild. After everything that had happened, we needed a fresh start. Even if we had to build that new life up brick by brick, we would do it.

    ———————

    I looked down at the sleeping child in my arms, my son Mikey. I stood up and walked over to his room. I put him gently in his bed and pulled the blankets up to his neck. I was just about to leave when I heard him speak.
    “Momma? I’m still kinda scared. It can get really dark in here at night.” I turned and smiled. “Well, when it gets dark,” I paused and created a tiny flame on the end of my finger, “I will always be here to shine a light.”
    I lit the candle by his bed and kissed his forehead. “Goodnight, my son.” He smiled and replied, “Goodnight, momma.”
    I got up and walked towards the door again.
    “Momma?”
    “Yes, Mikey?”
    “I love you.”
    I smiled and, as I opened the door, I responded.
    “I love you too. Sweet dreams, my little magician.” I walked out of the room and sighed.
    “Yeah. Sweet dreams.”

  2. JDavies

    “I’m going in!” I yell over the crackle of the terror bolt wising over my head. I take a moment to watch the terrible spell collide with a tree behind me, instantly wilting the once strong oak into a dried leafless husk. I see the She-Elf’s eyes go wide. For a girl that refuses to even step on fallen branches, that one must have hurt. I take off at a run, not about to give the wizard another easy target, one near miss was enough for me. Besides, I’m running mighty low on options myself and standing around gawking like an idiot doesn’t seem like the best one.
    My swords broken, finally reached the limit, and with the dwarf polymorphed into a chicken, he’s got bigger problems than fixing it at the moment. All I got is the iron dagger I pulled off that dead goblin and an ice shard that I think may be frozen to my glove. Perfect.
    The wizards got all the advantages; high ground, ranged spells, home ground. Maybe attacking this guy in his own tower wasn’t the best plan, but I never was the patient type and who knows when he would leave this place? I actually make it to the foot of this tower in one piece, only problem now is the tower it’s self. I look up at what must be five hundred stairs between me at the wizard at the pinnacle, spiralling up the outside of the tower like a giant serpent. All I can think is how the hell that old man got all the way to the top of this thing.
    “C’mon you lazy pack of ingrates!” I yell back at my useless company, still hiding out at the tree line which is growing smaller by the minute as more bolts of black lightning rain down on them. The She-elf is the first to make the dash towards the tower, probably so she can save the tree’s from the wizards onslaught, damn hippy, if she wasn’t so good with that bow I swear to the seven Gods…
    The spell caster comes next, practically tripping over his long purple robe in the process. His pointed hat had a hole singed through it. These magic types I tell yeh, I still can’t decide if they’re brilliant or the stupidest people I’ve ever met. He just barely makes it to the tower, a bolt of terror missing him by inches and exploding the ground behind sending careening to the foot of the stairs flat on his face. Something escapes from his arms and I see he was holding the chicken the dwarf was transformed into.
    “What the bloody hell are you doing with that?” I ask him angrily, I need this guy to cast heal spells on me when my beard catches fire (again), not to babysit a dwarf chicken.
    “I can fix him, I can fix him.” he said eagerly, “Just give me a second.”
    “One second is all you get.” I say, turning to see the welcoming party come to greet us.
    Moblins. Gods I hate Moblins. Cackling, greasy, viscous little buggers with a mean streak longer than anything two feet tall has any right to be. They practically tumble down the stairs on their stunted little legs, but when they reach us, they’re somehow leaping high enough to go for my face. I spear one with the dagger right through its grey little chest and send it hurling into the wall of the tower. I see another tumble down the stairs, an arrow through its oversized head as I drive my ice shard into another ones gaping mouth. The whole creature instantly freezes solid and shatters as I hurl it at another one coming down the stairs. Despite how cold my hand is from this dam shard, I gotta admit that was satisfying. I just stomped the last moblin into a mushy grey pulp when I hear a resounding Crack! from behind me. I turn to see the spell caster’s beardless face singed black, staring wide eyed at a chicken with a big red beard.
    “By my beard boy!” the chicken yelled in a gruff familiar voice, ” Give me ma axe so i can drive it between your wee eyes!”
    “I thought for sure that would work…” the lad said, clearly disappointed, “At least I got the beard back. The voice I could do without though…”
    “The beard! The Bloody beard!” the chicken yelled, “I’ll give you a beard boy!”
    “That doesn’t even make sense.” The spell caster retorted.
    “Enough!” I yelled, already making my way up the stairs, “Lets end this, we’ll fix the dwarf later. With me now!” I yell, trying to sound as heroic as I can leading a boy, a hippy and a bearded chicken into battle against an evil sorcerer. I silently promise myself to never accept quests from rival wizarding guilds ever again, no amount of gold is worth this.
    We spiral our way up the tower, taking down another pack of moblins and two fire breathing wombats on the way. Thankfully on the stairs, the wizards spells can’t reach us or we would all be some type of poultry by now. By the time we reach the top of the tower my legs are aching and i can feel sweat beading under my helmet. The she-elf is immaculate as always, with her perfectly braided hair and light silky steps, she looks like she’s going for a stroll in the bloody woods. The spell caster is practically crawling up the last few steps with the bearded chicken dwarf hopping up beside him, pecking at his face when ever he got a chance. Gods help us.
    “Ok, this is it. Lets hit him hard and fast, don’t let him speak or he’ll cast a spell on us.” I say to my party, “Lets do this.”
    “Aye! I’ll teach him the true meaning of pain!” the chicken yelled as it flapped forwards, leading the attack. I follow, yelling valiantly as I make my way up the last few stairs and turn onto the towers pinnacle. There the wizard is floating with a violent storm cloud swirling above his head, shooting down bolts of purple lightning while viscous winds threaten to blow us off the tower top. His black beard is blowing in the wind along with his crimson robes. In his clawed hand is a sceptre crowned with a demons skull.
    “Yes come you fools!” he cackled over the roar of the wind, “Come and give your souls to me!”
    Undeterred I charge forwards, knowing that an all out assault was my only chance, I heft my dagger and ice shard and leap into the gale. The wizard makes eye contact with me and I’m instantly hurled sideways by a guest of black wind which sends me careening towards the edge of the tower. I just manage to stab my dagger into the stone, halting my fall off the side just in time. I look up to see the she-elf shooting arrows into the gale only to have the arrows get blown off course by the wind, while the spell caster shoots bolts of blue mist at the wizard which seems to do less than nothing. The chicken dwarf is blowing around in the wind screaming more profanities then I hear in the seediest taverns on tuesday nights.
    I see the wizard turn towards the spell caster and aim his demon headed sceptre at him. I see the familiar orange glow begin to emit from the demons empty eye sockets. I leap forwards, grabbing the beard of the chicken as it flew by. The bolt of light was just beginning to fire as I hurl the chicken between the wizards attack and the spell caster.
    “Bloody hell.” the chicken said before it exploded in a puff of feathers as the bolt collided with it. Then a dwarf tumbled out of the foliage, covered in feathers, but very much humanoid again. He patted himself all over, “Oh, my beautiful face, oh it’s back. Ladies rejoice!”
    “You’re welcome you bloody idiot.” I say before turning back to face the wizard.
    As I charge again I just manage to see out of the corner of my eye, a lightning bolt flash through the she-elf’s chest, turning her into charred ash before I can even blink. Shit. I leap just managing to heft my weapons before I’m slammed into by the dwarf being tossed by the hurricane winds. We tumble across the ground and I watch as the orange bolt comes and turns him into a chicken once more, only this time he lasts less then a second before a fireball follows and roasts him on the spot. All I can do is watch hopelessly as the spell caster gets lifted off the ground by some invisible force that seemed to have him by the neck. I close my eyes as I hear the sickening crunch of his body being slammed against he cold stone ground repeatedly, and when I look up theres nothing but a bloody smear on the cold stone.
    I look up at the wizard who stares down at me triumphantly.
    “Damn you.” I say defiantly, “Damn you to hell.”
    And I heft my ice shard only to have a bolt of lightning slam me in the chest and send me hurtling off the tower edge.
    GAME OVER. RESPAWN IN 10..9..8…
    I want to slam my face through my key board. I hate that god damn wizard. so very very much. I take a deep swig of coke and take a bite of my cold pizza pop, and adjust my sleeping ass on my chair.
    3…2…1…
    I’m back in the forest. The wizards tower is visible over the green tree line in the distance. I look around to see my companions all standing in a circle; the dwarf not in chicken form, the spell caster not a bloody smear on the ground, the she-elf making sure not to break any branches.
    “Ok guys, fifth times the charm right?”

  3. DERP TO THE MAX

    I griped the hilt and watched as the wizard teased another spell from his large leather bound book. I thought he might have been at an disadvantage at first… Him being an old man and not only carrying that book but the fact that he shouldered a staff. But I guess when your a magical being you don’t really have to move around that much to fight. He glared at me with smoldering grey eyes and dusty white beard that danced a chaotic dance in the early morning air. I gulped, I stood no chance with my flimsy dagger. He raised his arms to the sky and chanted chanted the spell. Blue-green light danced from his fingertips and arched over my head to a tree behind me which then was enveloped in flames that burned blue heat from five feet away. A split second later it exploded into shrapnel and splinters, I ducked and rolled but something still tore at my arm creating a bloody gash down my forearm. “Not good” I thought gritting my teeth.

    “Come on fight me! You weakling!” he yelled raising his staff over his head flamboyantly. I flipped the knife in my hand nervously. I couldn’t run to him and try to stab him he’d shoot me before I got a chance. Not to mention the fact that blood now rand down my arm and into my hand making it hard to get a grip on the dagger I clutched to now as my life line. He prepared another attack. I tried to look brave and stood my ground. “Your a real novice, to provoke a fight with me.” He said raising his hands up for this next attack.

    “And your an idiot for accepting this challenge.” He scowled as he launched his power. Instinctively I raised my dagger up to cover my face as one would a shield. And to my amazement the attack deflected off my
    “shield” and ricocheted back to knock the leather book out of his hands along with the rest of his arm. I stood back surprised, but then I smirked. “Looks like the tables have changed”.

  4. Critique

    I make no claims to the accuracy of this event in Scotland’s history 🙂

    *************************
    If someone had told Andrew Moray that he would be defending his crew from a psycho wizard in the middle of a freak blizzard and not another marauding band of English soldiers he would have told them they were loco.

    That was before the fiery assault from the cave.

    Now they cowered like cornered mice, the whites of their eyes showing as they peered from behind snowy boulders into the cave that held certain death.

    These men had to be the most loyal, superstitious, and snarly bunch Andrew had ever had the misfortune of leading. They screamed like children at the ‘demon’ bats in the forest. They argued and complained endlessly about the food rations, that their feet hurt, and who’s turn it was to sleep closet to the fire. The only thing that held Andrew steadfast from washing his hands of the sorry bunch was he needed them to help carry out the seige against Iverness.

    Fireballs arched haphazardly from the cave casting a warm wind over the freezing men. In the glow from the fire Silas glimpsed a wrinkled face with piercing eyes. The shrivelled little man was wearing an electric yellow cape, and what looked suspiciously like a night cap.

    Besides the dagger Andrew carried, the group’s arsenal consisted of ten sets of bows and arrows, some hunting knives, and two large cast iron cooking pots.

    Andrew sighed. It was up to him. He pulled the dagger (which wasn’t much bigger then a hunting knife) from its sheath, held a finger to his lips and whispered, “I’m going in. If I’m not back in ten minutes, high tail it back to Nairn for reinforcements.”

    Creeping along the rocks he reached up and broke off a lethal icicle shard before sidling into the darkness of the cave.

    “Halt. Who gggoes there?” stammered a raspy voice. “Sssstop in the name of Kkking Edward.”

    Andrew waited for this eyes to adjust to the dimness inside.

    “We mean you no harm sir,” Andrew said rolling his r’s in a Scottish brogue. “My men and I only seek shelter from the storm.”

    “Ye be Scottish scum then,” the wizard said. “Off with your ‘eads.”

    A fireball flew past Andrew melting the icicle shard. Andrew leaped forward and easily wrested the firing instrument from the wizard’s gnarled fingers.

    Andrew’s men were soon assembled around a roaring fire in the shelter of the cave. The harmless wizard glared at them from the corner where he sat, hands tied in front of him.

    “Ye’ll not wwwin this one m’lads. Long live Kkking Edward,” The wizard cackled maniacally and fell backwards hitting his head against the stone wall and expired.

    That takes care of that Andrew thought.

    Of one accord the men shouted, “Long live King John!”

    They couldn’t know that in the not so distant future, John Balliol would loose his grip on the throne of Scotland.

    1. Observer Tim

      This is a whimsical and irreverent take on history, Critique. I love it!

      My style advisor tells me that “psycho”, “loco”, and “electric” are anachronisms within the context and that the story would be even better if alternates were found.

  5. Observer Tim

    Wait again! This is Part 3! Part 1 is HERE and Part 2 is HERE.

    Ralthagor brandishes his staff and announces “Nwada the Spirit-Queen! I Ralthagor have summoned you; I command you to do my bidding!”

    I’m about to retort when the strange woman speaks up, “Put a sock in it, creep.”

    Ralthagor starts tugging at the stocking that has suddenly filled his mouth. As he’s trying to dislodge it he slowly weakens until, after about a minute, he passes out. Nwada walks over and pulls the stocking out easily.

    “That takes care of him.” She turns to me, “Who are you and where am I?”

    “I’m called Sapphire, you’re in the comfort house that I and my sister run.”

    “Not again.” She buries her face in her left hand.

    “What is it, Queen Nwada?” She may or may not be a supernatural being, but at the very least she’s a powerful wizard.

    “It’s Wanda, not Nwada. I’ve been sucked into a story again; this time it’s one of my brother Eric’s. And this time I can’t sense the apartment.” She concentrates. “It’s because I’ve been swapped with your sister.”

    I should have gasped in wonderment, but I’ve been around magic too long. “Okay, so how do we get Desira and you swapped back?”

    “I don’t know. It depends on what she’s doing.”

    “Probably your brother.”

    “Ugh. I did not need that image.”

    “Why? Is your brother a monster?”

    “No, a nerd.” She points at Ralthagor. “Like him.”
    _

    We’re suddenly back in the salon; I don’t remember coming downstairs. I dodge an incoming punch and slug the skald that threw it, knocking him off his feet. Wanda gets grabbed by the minotaur. She looks into his eyes and he lets go, mumbling an apology.

    The dwarf trips into Wanda, knocking her onto me and dumping us both onto the floor and splashing us with the contents of the mug he was holding. Thank the gods it’s ale.

    We crawl toward the edge of the melee. A tentacle brushes my ankle. “Not now, Zyrix,” I call, and keep going.

    “It’s not Zyrix.” My blood runs cold. How did he get in here?

    “Cherin, get lost before I call the guard!”

    “I want my money back!”

    “You killed one of my girls!”

    “She wasn’t resilient enough. I demand satisfaction or the return of my gold!” He pinned my arms with his hands while a tentacle wrapped around my leg and slithered upward. Why did all the tentacled guys think that’s erotic?

    There was a resounding ‘clonk’ and he went limp. Wanda was holding a big iron frying pan.

    “How did you…?”

    “I wrote it in; I am a goddess, after all. Now let’s get going.”

    “Can you write in a knife? This guy deserves it!”

    “No! That’d be murder!”

    “Here we’d call it justice.” But there was no time for that argument. We crawled to the edge of the room and took shelter behind an upended table. In the heat of the moment I kissed her.

    She suddenly pulled back. “What the…?”

    “Is something wrong?” I ran my hands up her silky thighs.

    “There was a tense shift just now.” She looked down at my hands. “And a tone shift. Someone, definitely NOT me or Eric, is writing onto the story!”

    To be continued next prompt…

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