Inexorable Chaos

Jotunheim, the northern mountain city of ice, has one of the largest and most impressive fighting arenas in all of Orbis. It is only second to [Emperor] Flavion’s own coliseum. Within the bowels of the mountain, over a hundred meters below ground level, lies a circular amphitheater lit by runes carved into the icy floor, walls, and ceiling. Over a hundred thousand people, the majority of Jotunheim’s population, are seated in the stands. Vendors selling food and drinks to hungry spectators navigate through the icy seats and aisles.

Alissa gulps as her eyes roam about the room. She’s nervous. Not more than ten meters away, the entire royal family sits and waits for the seats to fill. The three wives of Jokull the [Jarl] are seated with their husband. Positioned behind are the [Jarl’s] two daughters and a young son. Alissa notes he lacks the bulk his father has, but that lack is likely because he has not yet gained a class.

Alissa continues to look over the front seats from her own ring-side spot, given to her by virtue of her grandpa. Said grandpa is currently seated next to Jokull; the two of them chat like old friends. Further down the row is Szuzad, a half elf. She glares at Zeke, but whatever is bothering her, she doesn’t voice it. Finally, at the far end, sit the [Pirates]. Not your normal [Pirates], but high level [Pirate Admirals], bedecked in exceptionally well-enchanted trinkets and clothing.

Allisa feels like she’s in the wrong seat. She wishes she were sitting in the normal crowd, or better yet, with Artyom. The empty seats around her offer no cover from the curious stares of other audience members and make her feel even more out of place..

Maybe I can still join the crowds. After all, I just have to stand up and leave.

Alissa, after a moment of deliberation, decides she would prefer a less conspicuous seat. She grabs the arms of the chair and prepares to push herself up when,

“Alissa, you’re here too.”

Lumi, the owner and captain of the Witch’s Rest, takes a seat next to her while Revna, her daughter, takes the seat on the other side of Alissa.

Alissa halts , perfectly poised to rise, unsure of what to do now that there are others sitting with her.

“I, yes,” she stutters, unable to meet the [Blizzard Witch Captain’s] eyes.

Lumi relaxes in her chair, glancing at all the others nearby before focusing back on Alissa. Lumi frowns like a mother about to reprimand an irresponsible daughter.

“Alissa, these seats are expensive. Did you spend all the money yesterday on obtaining them? I know I paid you well, but that would still be very irresponsible.”

Alissa looks down and swallows her saliva.

“Mother, Alissa is Zeek’s granddaughter,” Revna says as she crosses her left leg over her right. Both mother and daughter are wearing matching blue dresses with detailed embroidery that are shockingly revealing for women of the North. A slit down the side shows off their toned legs. It’s a far cry from Alissa’s simple brown dress; another reason for why she feels out of place.

Lumi’s eyes go wide.

“Ahhh, that explains it. Well, I apologize for jumping to conclusions.”

“Th-that's not a problem. It’s fine.” Alissa chokes out.

Lumi rolls her eyes at the young lady’s reaction.

“Alissa dear, stop being so timid. Yesterday, you took charge of my staff and ran everything far more efficiently. I never knew a [Maid] could have such organizational skills. A [Head Maid] maybe, but not a regular one. You’re only level forty nine, after all.”

“Fifty.”

“Hmm?”

“I’m level fifty now. I leveled yesterday. I got the [Organizational Flow] skill.”

Lumi smiles. “That explains a lot then. A rare skill to get at level fifty, but one of the best.”

“[Organizational Flow], mother?” Revna asks.

“Yes, Revna. It's a skill that high level [Innkeepers], [Barkeepers], [Head Maids] and other classes within the service profession are known to have. Alissa here sensed a major inefficiency with how the other [Barmaids] were operating and helped correct it.”

“Is that why she slapped that guy?” Revna asks.

Alissa groans and blushes at that specific scene that happened yesterday. One of the customers there had smacked her on the butt. Nothing unusual really; it happens often and she had learned to ignore it. But, for whatever reason, that had really messed with the flow of things, so she countered with a slap that seemed to cut through the other noise in the room.

The man in question looked surprised. His mouth turned into a rictus of anger as he leapt from his seat in a fit of rage.

Abruptly, the music stopped. Almost all the patrons looked ready to stand up and fight. The sound of cracking knuckles was audible as everyone stared at the man. The [Sailor] easily understood the situation. Either he accepted the slap, or he would leave with much worse.

He sat back down and avoided any and all contact with the staff for the rest of the night.

“Yes. Alissa did the right thing. That [Sailor] clearly was new to the north and needed to be taught one of our rules.”

Alissa blushes at the praise. Lumi had even paid her extra for it. She made as much as an entire month's salary from her old job at the Inn in Snowbird in only one night. It was amazing. She still has the coin but is unsure how to spend it.

“Oh, it’s starting,” says Lumi.

________________________________

Heads turn towards Jokull as he slowly stands, reaching his full height of well over ten feet. He walks forward to a podium where he places his palms. He looks out at the cheering crowd with a smile plastered to his face.

He spreads his thick muscular arms and calls upon his aura.

“Welcome to Jotunheim!”

He yells loudly, his words clear and concise. The crowd roars and applauds. The noise of the ecstatic spectators is deafening.

“Before we begin, I have some announcements to make. Two days ago, the [Pirate Archqueen] Teuta gave birth to a baby boy. Because of the timing, she could not come watch the tournament she so loves. Instead, Jokull gestures at the well dressed pirates near him, “she sends her [Admirals] in her place.”

The crowd screams, not because of the pirates or their [Queen], but because there is so much energy in the air. At this point, Jokull could say anything and the crowd will cheer.

“Next, I want to change up the rewards for the tournament,” he points at his youngest daughter, “For the one who takes the title of Úlfhéðnar, you will not only obtain the title, but you will also get my daughter.”

At his words, the yells and screams of the crowd rise to fever pitch. The last time a [Jarl] had offered such a thing was over five hundred years ago. Now, it is happening again and many of the combatants hidden below the stadium are becoming riled up.

“Finally, we have a very important guest.”

Jokull gestures towards the grinning old man.

“Zeek the Untouchable has chosen to attend this tournament.”

The screams now echoing are so excessively loud that even the mountain begins to tremble and cracks form in the ice. The cracks are quickly repaired by the magic, but it shows the fervent adoration the population has for arguably not only the strongest person in the north but the whole world as well.

Jokull begins to chuckle as he waits for the crowd to settle down a little.

“He has not come alone. His direct disciple, Artyom, has joined the tournament with the full intention of taking my daughter as his wife!”

Zeek smiles and nods.

Alissa looks at her grandfather with a betrayed glare.

Artyom curses Zeek under the stadium.

The crowd cheers and screams.

“Now, for the combatants. Come forth and make yourselves known!”

The gates around the edges of the arena rise and a flood of attendees walk out. The crowd begins to yell and scream at the ten thousand contenders. Most are men, but some women are mixed among them. [Mercenaries], [Pirates], [Warriors], and even a few [Mages] walk with a honed professional edge. But, the most magnificent of the bunch is a huge northern man by the name of Aldowin. This man walks with a bare but scarred chest, a magnificent black beard, and two long battleaxes with the ends the size of a regular human’s body. Aldowin is leading the procession, and he is the current Úlfhéðnar. He is whom those behind must strive to defeat.

After walking the length of the Arena, the combatants begin moving back underground.

Except for two.

_________________________________

The crowd gazes with interest as two fighters take center stage. Magic flows through the arena as a spell is cast. The spell. [Mass Enhanced Vision] affects every person in the stands.

All of their eyes begin to glow. Their vision sharpens; the magic allows each spectator to see the fight in exquisite detail.

Not even [Emperor] Flavion’s Amphitheatre can cast large scale magic that can affect a hundred thousand people all at once.

Artyom curses Zeek and all of the North as over a hundred thousand people begin to gawk at him and his opponent. Where Artyom is subdued and annoyed, his opponent is relaxed and ecstatic as he waves his mace the size of a human torso around with relative ease.

“For our first fight of the tournament, we have a bit of a special surprise,” Jokull exclaims before pointing at the two combatants, “Zeek’s own apprentice named Artyom, will be battling one of last year's finalists, Ezekiel!”

The crowd screams, many chanting Artyom with little to nobody chanting Ezekiel.

Ezekiel notices this. He lowers his hands and then looks as his opponent with both jealousy and anger. The crowd had screamed his name before, but now a newbie is showing him up.

Regardless, Ezekiel did not become a finalist for nothing. He takes a stance and prepares to engage.

Artyom gulps as he too takes a stance. He is weaponless, but his arms are steel. Hopefully, that will be enough.

“It looks like the combatants are ready. Let us watch the battle commence! BEGIN!”

Ezekiel is a level 161 [Bludgeon Archwarrior], one of the heaviest hitting classes known to exist. Coupled with his strength being over one hundred, almost no one can withstand a direct hit from his mace.

Ezekiel knows this, so he attacks first.

“[Weightless Hop]” Ezekiel jumps in the air with a surprising amount of ease. His mace is already above his head as his body reaches its zenith almost directly above Artyom.

Artyom, raises his arms above his head. After all, the mace isn't spiked.

Ezekiel smiles, “[Accelerated Downsmash]”

The mace hurtles down at an incredible speed and with enough force to not only obliterate bone, but to also crater the enhanced ice below. Ezekiel is dragged down behind it.

The mace strikes down and the ice cracks under Artyom. The sheer weight of the impact elicits a pained grunt from Artyom as the [Hero] is driven to his knees.

Ezekiel blinks in confusion as he feels that something is wrong. He was expecting to feel the force of his impact dissipated by pulped flesh and shattered ice.

Instead, things appear to have gone wrong.

Then he feels his mace pushed out of his line of sight to reveal his opponent.

Artyom takes advantage of Ezekiel's surprise to lunge forward and grab the man by the arm.

Artyom pulls the arm and launches a punch at the same time.

Ezekiel’s head whiplashes backwards, but Artyom keeps his grip, keeping the [Bludgeon Archwarrior] in place. Artyom releases another punch driven by his over three hundred strength. He strikes several times, until Ezekiel’s free hand lets go of his weapon.

Artyom, still holding Ezekiel’s hand, twists and throws Ezekiel several dozen meters away. Then he grabs the mace on the floor and tosses it behind him. He then takes a stance and waits for Ezekiel, but the man does not move. Artyom has knocked the man unconscious.

Artyom looks around and notices that the whole crowd had gone completely silent. If he had paid attention, he would have known that silence fell when he successfully blocked an attack that even Jokull would rather dodge or deflect.

Then, a clapping begins. Just one person. It can barely be heard, but Artyom can hear it. He looks to the stand, finding Alissa standing and clapping. The only one to do so.

And then, it spreads. Those next to her begin to clap. It spreads quickly, followed by cheering as the whole arena proceeds into an uproar. Artyom’s name is chanted and yelled with fervor, all to the annoyance of the [Fist Warrior]. His plan is to win a couple matches and then lose. He was hoping to be slowly forgotten, but it seems things have already turned for the worst.

Jokull nods with a smile as he leans on the Podium. He chuckles.

“And so it begins.”