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Combat excerpt - Beedrill - 11-28-2025
This is my rought attemp at translating and adapting a scene from a spanish fantasy(?) novel.
A surprise from the king.
The announcer didn’t wait for the people’s attention, so most of us couldn’t understand what he was saying until the loud chatter subsided.
-…from a highlander northus tribe, versus Amiffar, who swears to be a high born among the calisefom desert dwellers.
He was presenting two fighters, barbarians brought by the king as prisoners of war. They arrived at the area at the center of the banquet hall, practically naked and escorted by a half a dozen of guards armed with spears.
The northus was a big man with heavy muscles that showed many battle scars. His opponent was also tall, but had an agile and very defined dark body. The northus was bald, with a braided blond beard, and bright blue eyes. The calisefom hair was messy mop that made him look like a mad man. The guards gave a short sword and a wooden shield to each one while the announcer continued talking, even though many guests were still chatting and making plans about our next quest.
-Tonight, they will fight for your entertainment. It will be a single round. No intermissions. They both agreed to fight to the death, and the victor will win his freedom.
The guards stood in a broad circle, delimiting the area of combat, holding their spears ready to act in case any of the gladiators attempted to attack the guests.
The fighters took a while to study each other at the lights of the braziers, more with curiosity rather than any hostility. Finally, they clashed their shields with their swords, as they were instructed to do to indicate the start of the combat.
Their swords went to the encounter and their shields creaked while their chest panted for breath with every hit. They were seasoned warriors, they moved restless exchanging thrusts and trying to hook the opponent shield to provoke unbalance. Nobody was chatting anymore, everyone was paying full attention to the combat feints and tricks.
In the midst of the guest’s mayhem, it was the northus blade that reached the calisefom guts. The metal pierced deep, splashing blood. The desert dweller clenched his teeth and tried to keep on fighting, but the highlander made the most of his advantage, moving in circles and unleashing his weapon all around his wounded opponent.
His blade opened five or six times the flesh of the calisefom before making him fell in a pool of his own blood. Only then, the northus hesitate and look at the announcer who came to took his sword and give him a big axe instead.
The scandalous was deafening when the northus beheaded the calisefom, many guest trashed their tables, dropping junk all over the place.
The victor watched us with disgust before slowly rising his arms. The axe in one hand and the head of his opponent in the other.
He greeted sullenly to the audience, lips tight, as someone who is only accepting what’s belong to him.