He also has one of the best tabletop gaming set ups I've ever seen, and it's amazing to play with him. He has an overhead projector that displays a map on his table, which is a massive piece of furniture. It has to be, because we're a pretty big group. Beyond me and him, there's four guys and three girls, and I think he does a fairly good job keeping us all on the same page. Most of the talk is about the campaign, which leaves little discussion about other matters.

Like the fact that I'd become some sort of notorious villain who was synonymous with the devil. When Vlaine casually told me that people were still talking about me, I thought he meant in possibly a good way. While he did admit that some of the people who had actually been at the LARP with me did say some good things, the people who's characters had died were going to other LARPs and spreading rumors, almost as if they were actively trying to redeem themselves and the people who had fallen by condemning me.

When I asked how Vlaine, who had helped considerably in my original plan, had managed to escape any form of slander, he just shrugged and said that I was a probably just a better scapegoat. While I instinctively got a bit angry at the whole idea, it didn't take me long to realize that I really didn't care too much about what those people were telling other people, especially because probably no one else cared about it either.

Less than a week later, I received an invitation.

I at first thought it was just something Vlaine had sent me for his campaign. It arrived in an elaborately ornate envelope that looked like it was taken straight from a medieval study. Pulling out a piece of vellum(!), I read what I realized was quite clearly a joke.

I immediately called up Vlaine, and told him that I didn't really understand what he was thinking sending me such a letter. He, lacking his usual mirth, replied that he had also received the same kind of invitation. Unlike me, he knew why it had been sent, and knew enough not to doubt its authenticity.

Looking back to the invitation, I began to read it again, knowing now that it wasn't just an elaborate prank. Even knowing that, it seemed too unreal.

I had been invited to a LARP tournament.

It was written in an elaborate, grandiose manner, filled with odd expressions probably lifted straight from a Shakespearean play or something akin. The details were jumbled around with odd phrases, and at first it wasn't directly apparent that it wasn't for an actual steel-and-blood tournament.

As I read, Vlaine explained what he knew.

Vlaine wasn't the only young rich person who enjoyed LARPs. While it would never replace having sex with the servants and then firing them as the top hobby, it actual had a decent position on the list of Activities for Bored People with Far Too Much Money to Spend. In fact, quite a few of the better LARPs managed to maintain their level of quality thanks to donations from some of these people, who would often receive stat bonuses or special items in return.

This tournament was not the first of its kind. These rich bastards would hold them at whim, and it wasn't uncommon for one to be held each year, often by a group of organizers. Renting an entire campground for a weekend was no problem, or at least not a significant one. As far as the purpose, they varied, but it was more often than not a way for a group of rich bored kids to blow away a weekend.

As I listened to him explain, the only thought that ran through my mind was that life was incredibly unfair, if it allowed people to just throw away money for things like this. A LARP tournament was a miserable idea, and I could imagine a hundred and one better ways to spend my weekend than competing against people for a title I really didn't want.

That's when I noticed the mention of a monetary prize.

It didn't say how much, and it was worded as "among other delights, a deed of gift, wealth worthy of the task that befalls the victor." I rolled those words around in my head, just long enough to fall under their spell, and I grew curious as to just how much I had a chance to win. Even pocketing $50 for something that could potentially be fun wasn't a bad deal, and I even imagined that they'd be willing to shell out $500 as a prize.

Reluctantly, I started to actually pay attention to the details of what Vlaine was talking about, hoping to gleam some sort of strategy. Ignoring how much of a whore I was for selling away my weekend for an amount of money I didn't even know and probably didn't even have a chance to win, I managed to figure out that if Vlaine knew any more than me about this particular tournament, he wasn't giving me any of the useful bits of information.

I sent the attached postcard with my reply, confirming that I'd be there. With a month before the tournament, which meant a month to prepare, I immediately called Hardule and Lith.

When I explained what was going on, neither of them believed me at first. After telling them to call Vlaine to confirm, they had opposite reactions. Lith was quite happy, and mentioned more than once that it was all because of him that I had managed to get any attention at all, which I don't really understand what he meant. Hardule was rather pissed.

Eventually, after three days of probably nothing but sulking, he revealed that the reason he was pissed was that if any of the three of us deserved to be invited to a LARP tournament, it was the one who had been going to LARP's the longest. Eventually, I managed to convince him that it wasn't my choice who was picked, and the best way to get back at the tournament organizers was to help me win.

Vlaine seemed to take this very seriously. He suspended our campaign, saying that he'd be using the time to get ready. This was unfortunate, since we were getting to a pretty good point in the plot, but it had a good side effect. Since Vlaine had gathered the entire group from LARPs, we used our weekly sessions for "practice." It quickly turned to twice a week, then three times, until the last week we met up almost every single day.

It was a good physical workout. While we practiced with foam weapons, we would also create different scenarios. Typically, we'd split into two teams and just fight, but sometimes we did different set ups. One that I was particularly good in was "Mage killing." Basically, it would be me (or Vlaine) vs. everyone else, where we'd have to land a strike on a particular person without getting hit ourselves. Getting past defensive formations seemed to be my strong point, as I was the fastest person in the group. Vlaine wasn't too bad himself, but when facing me he'd always put every ounce of effort into taking me down and then just end up getting killed by someone else.

One of the girls, who had played a character named "Selenia" but now preferred the name Kardess, was always our preferred "mage." Defending her was a great incentive, and there was a fair amount of masculine rivalry between me and Vlaine in order to make sure the other one failed when guarding her. Some of that incentive evaporated over time, though, as it became clear that even if I did managed to beat Vlaine in that game 7 times to his every 4, Kardess seemed more ready to console the loser than to uplift the victor. Or, to put it another way, I do think she and Vlaine had some form of mutual attraction.

What really surprised me was that Hardule put everything into our training sessions. Easily the best in the group with bean bags and on a close level with Vlaine in regards to strategy and battle movements, he would snipe from fifty feet away with excellent accuracy. As Vlaine and I learned how to handle multiple opponents, Hardule's help in being an excellent threat and challenge really made our training sessions have great results.

Within the month, I had allowed their enthusiasm to infect me, and was reading and learning as much as I could about sword techniques. While I doubt any of the sources I found had a shred of authenticity or any credibility, they did present ideas and strategies I hadn't thought of before. With plenty of training sessions to try the techniques out and to see which worked and which didn't, I started to develop what I think I could consider a "style." With a fair portion of my free time devoted to what I would have earlier considered a waste of it, I realized just how much I had changed through the last few months. In an ironic way, while swinging a foam sword in preparation for a fantasy tournament, I felt as if I had matured a little.

With Vlaine and I as the focus of the training sessions, our skill quickly outstripped everyone else's. Lith, who had once considered us to be equals, eventually had to admit that he stood no chance against either me or Vlaine. While I had the edge in solo combat and in offensive strategies, Vlaine could occasionally outmaneuver me, and did it often when he was put in charge of a group. And, when it came to magic, I stood no chance against him, as he had primarily played mages.

During our final training session, Vlaine and I decided to see whether we could fight against the entirety of the other seven people. With just the two of us, we finished them off in mere minutes each time, the gap in skill having grown dramatically. I was very surprised to see just how well Vlaine had improved, but everyone else was more impressed how far I had come in such a short span of time. Feeling almost over prepared for the tournament, I went to sleep that night with visions of a flawless victory.

The invitations oddly had different places for Vlaine and I to be. He was expected at a library, while I was supposed to be at a train station near my home by 9am. When I arrived, a few minutes early, a black car was already waiting for me. The chauffeur stepped out, confirmed who I was, and then put my bag away into the trunk.

The drive was long, a little over an hour. I entertained myself with attempts at striking up a conversation with the driver, but he wasn't a particularly talkative person, especially when I asked questions in regards to the tournament. As far as I could tell, he and I had the same opinion about it, in which it was an excessive hobby that had perhaps gone a little too far in this case.

Eventually, we arrived at a place that was simply unreal. Passing through enormous, stone-walled gates, we drove towards what I at first thought was a medieval castle. As we drew closer, I realized it was simply a mansion with turrets and medieval styling, but even that made me feel like I had entered a different world.

Other cars had arrived before me and were still arriving, and I was ushered into the enormous entrance hall, complete with a grand staircase. Inside, there was at least fifty people already, with more arriving. It wasn't very long before I realized some common features that they all had. All were male, and from what I could tell fairly athletic. While most had a rather slim build like me and Vlaine, there were a few that looked like body-builders and even one huge guy who was a dead ringer for Schwarzenegger in his Conan days. Having had expected more or less that my only competition would be waify or overweight nerds, I began to wonder if I had any chance at all.

Looking around in an attempt to find Vlaine, I realized something else that almost everyone else had in common. While perhaps not the best judge, everyone was fairly good-looking. Having never really been considered outstandingly handsome myself, I felt out of place among what could have been mistaken for a gathering of male models.

With my "something is desperately wrong" sense tingling like crazy, I managed to spot Vlaine. He was already heading towards me, looking for all the world as if he were perfectly at ease in this environment. With a smile, he began to explain things he had been expecting, but hadn't been able to confirm until he arrived here.

We were in the Hunting Dogs Manor.

The Hunting Dogs family, nicknamed so thanks to their personal standard and coat of arms (which had two greyhound supporters), was an old wealth family, with a hand in almost every major business. More importantly, at least to us, was that the many sons in the family, each named after an Arthurian Knight, loved the medieval ages far more than people should. Vlaine had encountered them many times at different LARPs, and even considered Caradoc, one of the youngest sons, to be a friend. If his guess was right, either Caradoc or Bors (who was slightly older) had arranged the tourney, if for no better reason then to enact their personal medieval fantasies.

Thinking a bit, I realized that no one except me had ever said that this was a LARP tournament. I asked Vlaine if he recognized anyone here, and he began telling me a few of their exploits.

Suddenly, I realized just how outclassed I was. While I thought I had managed to handle myself pretty well at a LARP, Vlaine began pointing people out who had won SCA tournaments and other forms of "recreational combat," and then went and pointed out fencers and archers who competed on the national level. Wondering how in the hell I had managed to get invited to here, Vlaine casually explained that he had put in a good word for me to Caradoc.

The realization that I was only here because of Vlaine's recommendation hit me pretty hard. Any enthusiasm I had drained away, as I could now expect that I'd be eliminated within minutes of this tournament. Without a legitimate reason to be here, I was basically just fodder for the other players.

But, looking around slowly built up my enthusiasm. All these people were supposed to be better than me, and just having the chance to fight them was an opportunity I'd never pass up. Quickly, I discovered that I was now more excited than if everyone had just been weaklings, and that this might be the best chance I ever would get to test my abilities. If I wanted to win, I'd have to out-think, out-plan, and outmaneuver them to just to have a chance at victory. With half-baked ideas forming in my head, I began to listen to the conversations around me.

These people were almost ridiculous with their seriousness. While some of them talked about training regiments and diet, others were discussing techniques and equipment. My previous conceptions of this whole thing were melting quickly, as everyone continued to make this whole thing seem like we were all about to battle for life and limb.

When everyone had gathered, there were easily over a hundred people in what had been a spacious entrance hall. Now, it was rather crowded, and people were slowly becoming agitated. There was an occasional shout here and there, and just before any actual fighting started, the electric lights dimmed.

Candlebras and the enormous chandelier suddenly blazed alight, and at the top of the stair case appeared a group of four young men. They all shared the same light sandy hair, as well as the same stern look. They wore elaborate costumes, appearing for all the world like medieval nobles. A moment passed, and then a young woman, perhaps around just 18 or so, made her way from behind them to stand before us all.

You gotta stop posting the entire thing per thread. They get archived. Go ahead to part III.

She was breathtaking. The cynic in me wanted to say it was the makeup and flowing white dress, but the lame poet in me thought for certain an angel had appeared. The entire crowd simply looked up at her with unrestrained awe, and I struggled to tear my gaze away from her so I could see everyone elses' reactions. Many stared with opened mouths, some were smiling as if they had just been blessed, but what worried me was the look on Vlaine's face.

He did not seem at all happy about seeing this girl.

She introduced herself and her brothers. She was Blanchefleur, and with her was Caradoc, Bors, Tristan, and Percival. She then welcomed us all, in a pleasant voice that seemed intent on ensnaring me. I couldn't help it, as she continued to say things I couldn't help but ignore, as I was absolutely entranced by the way she moved and the way she spoke. As she finished, I couldn't help but think I had fallen in love with her, despite her silly-sounding name.

Vlaine practically had to shake me out of my daze, and I saw that he was not pleased for some reason. Wondering why anyone in the world had a reason not be happy, I asked him.

My smile soon matched his grimace.

Before we could begin the tournament, we would have to sign a contract. These were quickly passed around on clipboard-like tablets, and I sensed a feeling of dread as I started to read.

To start, all bodily harm we might endure would be our own responsibility. Fair enough.

During the length of the tournament, we were barred from leaving the grounds. No problems there, though I wondered why I needed to be legally bound to that rule.

They had full right to evict anyone and force them to bay the forfeiture fee. A little scary, especially the word "fee." But, that seemed alright.

We all had to pay $1000 to enter this contest.

...

I frowned. Very, very deeply. While that might seem like money that could be pissed away by these rich people, that was a bit of an investment on my part. Running calculations in my head, I tried to think of whether or not I'd ever be able justify taking a solid 1K hit to my bank account for something so mind-breakingly foolish.

Glancing over to Vlaine and expressing my complaint, he didn't seem at all perturbed about the fee. Before I could just condemn him as a needlessly rich bastard, he reminded me about the prize. When I asked him what it was, he looked at me in shock, saying that Blancehfleur had announced it only minutes before.

Somehow, she had managed to sneak in the mention of the prize while I had been lost in my own little world. When Vlaine repeated to me what it was, I took a slight step back, inhaled deeply, and then asked him to repeat himself. This suddenly had taken a very strange turn, with the seriousness of the whole situation suddenly becoming so exaggerated I could only think that it would probably seem hilarious to onlookers.

We were competing for $25,000. While my mind reeled at making that much money in a single weekend, what Vlaine said next simply emptied my head of all thought.

Blanchefleur was considering us all as suitors.

My brain stalled for perhaps a few minutes, I'll never know. When thoughts finally returned to my head, I wondered what I had done in a past life. I must have done something absolutely insane if it meant that I was now living in such an insane world. Before I managed to organize my thoughts into a logical understanding, I was already signing the contract and writing out a check.

Buyer's remorse hit me hard just as soon as I handed away the tablet that held the two pieces of paper. Before, I had been excited about just being able to compete. Now, if I lost, I was losing a lot more than just a weekend. With Blanchefleur nowhere in sight, I began to consider how exactly I felt about her, and knowing that love at first sight was nothing more than a romantic's dream, I knew that she and I were just complete and utter strangers. With that matter smoothly settled, I still needed to win, because 25 grand wasn't money that I could just turn down. And, with the forfeiture fee being another $1000 and the contract already signed, I had no choice but to see this thing through.

It looked as if everyone else was confident, or at least were willing to gamble (like me). They all signed the contracts and paid, some by cash and some by check. When this whole processed had finished, we were slowly led through a long hallway into a gigantic room.

Along the walls were elaborate tapestries, and there were enormous wooden chests lined against the walls. The oldest brother present, Percival, began to explain the rules of the tournament. Almost as if they had expected for Blanchefleur to once again steal our attention, she was nowhere in sight.

The rules were at first simple, but they quickly grew complex and detailed. To start, we would all be given "wound packets." These were small plastic bags, filled with a thick, syrupy liquid. With attached straps, they would be placed on each arm, each leg, over the heart, and in the center of the back. Percival then demonstrated how the bag ruptured with force, by stomping on one he placed on the ground.

The ones on the arms and legs would be filled with red liquid. If these were broken, the arm or leg was likewise considered unusable. However, if we found any other red wound packets later on, we could "heal" a limb by replacing the spent bag with a fresh one. The two wound packets over the heart and back, however, would be filled with a black liquid. If either of these two were ruptured, for whatever reason, we were instantly dead.

Harsh rules for a high-stakes game, which suited me fine. I knew that I was going to be relying on the mistakes of my enemies moreso than my own skill, and when something as simple as falling to the ground could be fatal, I had no reason to complain.

Percival continued to explain that beyond these targets, the rest of the body was still fair game. While striking the head or a hand would not result in a fatal or disabling blow, they were perfectly legal and encouraged if we saw them as tactically viable targets.

While striking with the hand and legs was perfectly legal, the only weapons we were allowed to use were already prepared for us. Motioning towards one side of the room, several men began opening the wooden chests, revealing a literal armory of weapons.

There were hundreds. When I later got a chance to examine them, I managed to figure out their construction. Most had pvc or something similar pipe cores, and were covered with a thin yet dense layer of foam. over all of this was a gray-colored panty-hose like fabric, and there were some weapons with protrusions made out of some kind of dense foam. They all seemed to be rather high quality, and I had a great urge to try them out as soon as possible.

Percival announced we could take only one weapon, except for the ones that were tied to another by a rope, as those were considered a pair. Beyond this, we were free to take whatever armor and costume we wanted from the chests on the other side of the room. Almost as an afterthought, he explained that they would be ours to keep, as initial gifts from his family.

We all made our way to the weapons first, and I was truly amazed by the variety. Staffs, spears, axes, swords, maces, even bows with strange looking arrows were available. They were unsorted, or at least there was no pattern we could discern, so we all rummaged through the chests looking for something that suited us.

I found mine rather quickly.

It was too big to be called a sword. The handle alone was almost as long as the other swords, while the blade caught my eye by not only its length but its width. The blade was a full 5-6 inches wide, and just short of 5 feet, with the total length of the weapon being slightly over 7. The foam that made up the blade was dense, but the weapon itself was reasonably light. With a few test swings, I felt like I had a weapon worth wielding.

After choosing my weapon, I watched as other people selected theirs. Most went after the long swords, though a fair number also went after the spears. A few of the stronger looking people also selected enormous swords, including the man I nicknamed Conan, who chose an absolutely monstrous looking weapon that must have been a foot wide and over 8 feet long. However, I was more afraid of one man.

I'm not sure how to describe him. His build was not much different from mine, though he was perhaps a bit shorter. With long dark black hair tied in a loose ponytail, he seemed to be no older than 16. Despite a rather non-intimidating appearance, he frightened me. He scared me, because without hesitation the only weapon he chose was a single dagger. And, just as I watched how people were selecting their weapons, he did as well, but with far clearer focus and concentration. While everyone else seemed threatening in one way or another, he was the only one I really considered as "frightening."

Minutes passed, before a few people started to move over to the other side of the room to select their armor. Just like the weapons, there was a wide variety of high quality pieces, with more than enough for everyone. Looking around, I saw many people grab metal chest pieces, and could not fault them for their choice. A few went several steps further, and began outfitting themselves with full suits of armor, complete with helmets and greaves. I made my way through the chests, grabbing what I thought was good. When I had finished, I saw that everyone else was unashamedly changing their clothes into these costumes.

When I finished changing, a thought I did fairly well for myself. The only pieces of armor I had were a right shoulder guard and two leather bracers. Beyond that, I had a long, deep red tunic, a belt with several pouches, brown leggings, and had opted for a thick, dark gray cape. Seeing a red, angular cavalier hat complete with an enormous black ostrich feather, I was going to simply ignore it but the thought "free hat" entered my mind. Though I knew I would later have to apologize to every person who had a sense of fashion, I placed it on my head.

Realizing my sword was a bit cumbersome to carry, I took two thin short belts (probably designed to be looped around the arms or legs) and created a small harness to attach to my shoulder guard. While not perfectly comfortable, it held my sword and allowed me to run, which I considered the most important thing I had to do.

When everyone seemed finished, I now felt like I was truly in a medieval, or at least a pseudo-medieval, world. Percival soon returned, and began to explain the rest of the rules.

For one thing, we had dressed a bit early. A crew of men carrying the wound packets started going to each of us, telling us to expose our arms, legs, chest and back. They secured the packets to just below the shoulder and just below the hip, directly on the skin. The heart and back packets used a strange harness of straps, but they were firmly secure in their positions. I was glad to actually see that the packets were somewhat resilient, and that only a decent blow would rupture them.

After having the packets placed, we redressed. The few who had decided to wear full suits of armor received help from the same men who had put the packets on us, and were the last to be ready. I also was slow in getting set up, despite my simple outfit, because I was delayed thanks to a casual observation. As everyone else put their clothes back on, I noticed one person was already dressed. His clothes completely obscured any sense of who he was, with a large cloak that shielded the majority of his face. I noticed that he seemed rather short, and quickly thought of the dark haired dagger wielder. I spotted him some distance away, wearing an entirely black outfit without a single piece of armor, and grew confused as to who this mystery person was. After tumbling it in my head for a little while, I ended up just putting on my clothes.

After we were all ready, we were then handed out earbuds, and explained that these were also microphones. Announcements would be given regularly, and if we received any instructions we were expected to carry them out immediately. If we failed to do so, we would be immediately considered to be forfeiting.

Percival finally decided it was time to explain how we could win the tournament. Put simply, the last person alive would be crowned the victor. However, new rules would be explained as the tournament progressed, and Percival "encouraged" us to actively seek opponents, as holing up and hiding would be "disastrous."

Two tapestries were then pulled to the side, and on the wall we saw a map of the entire estate. It was enormous, with five other mansions besides the one we were in, with plenty of forests, ponds, and gardens in between them. Percival explained that during the tournament, 3 of the mansions would be off limits, and they all had red tape across the doors. The mansion we were in was also considered illegal grounds to be found in, with one exception. If we died, we were expected to immediately return here.

The other two mansions were fair game, though some rooms would be barred off with red tape. We could expect to find plenty of "treasure" inside of them, as well as within the rest of the grounds. Within the grounds we would be sure to find some thirty smaller buildings, and we were expected to use them as we saw fit.

He then announced we would be separated and spread throughout the estate, and the tournament would officially begin with an announcement through the earpieces. As he finished saying this, Blanchefleur decided to make her appearance.

Knowing that she was actively considering us all as potential suitors made me confused to the point where I could barely contain it. Was she insane, or simply having fun? Was this all just an act, or did you truly intend to use this tournament to find a husband? Did I love her? Was I simply naive? Why were her lips moving?

Realizing I was an idiot for getting swallowed up by my thoughts and not paying attention to what she had been saying, I began to listen just as she wished us good luck and a farewell. Looking around, I wondered how many people here were more interested her than in the money, and I wondered if I was among them.

We were then led outside, where several horse-drawn wagons were prepared. After we all climbed into them, we were handed blindfolds, and told to put them on. The horses then began to pull the wagons over what were rather bumpy roads, occasionally stopping as a person was let off. Eventually, it came my turn. The cart stopped, and the earpiece buzzed alive, delivering me a sweet, sweet message for Blanchefleur herself, telling me to remove my blindfold and get off the cart.

Looking around, I was surrounded by trees. I had thought the estate was big just by seeing the map, but I misjudged just how enormous it really was. I wasn't even able to see the mansions from where I was, with only a small building and what appeared to be a large ornate garden surrounding it in my field of vision. As I began to wonder how I'd even be able to find another person in this enormous place, the horse-drawn cart continued down the dirt road.

Alone, I moved towards a clump of trees, feeling rather vulnerable. I tried to come up with a plan of action, but as I thought about my situation, things only became more and more complicated. I could safely assume everyone was stronger than I was, or at least I had to act under that assumption. With direct conflict not an option, I saw my choices dwindle away, and I began to feel as if my chance of winning were also disappearing. When I thought about winning, I questioned what my true intent was, which confused me so much my head began to spin.

Tipping my hat low and pulling my cloak around me, I closed my eyes. Breathing in, I realized who I was. Right now, I was no longer a man in an insane situation. I was Nephem Festiva, a fantasy warrior who needed no reason to win besides that it was a hell of a lot better than losing. If I was killed here, that would be my death.

Focused and calm, I threw away any circumstances that had led me here, ignoring anything beyond the fact that I needed to win this. I had trained for this. I had been through difficult situations before. I was ready for this.

Just as I settled my resolve, the earpiece whispered into my ear with an almost unnaturally pleasant voice.

"The tournament begins now. Good luck."

END OF PART I

I had only shreds of a plan formed. I knew that alone, I didn't stand a chance. If I wanted to win, that meant I needed to use possibly the one advantage I had. Vlaine was a person I knew I could work with, and if I managed to find him, we could team up.

Finding him, however, was not going to be easy, especially if neither of us planned on staying out in the open. Realizing that this clump of trees was probably only slightly better than standing in the middle of the road, I made my way towards the small building in the garden.

It was a bit like a small cottage, with only four small rooms. On the table in the largest of the rooms was a parcel, wrapped in a thin canvas stamped with the words "For Players." Opening it, I began to take out sandwiches wrapped in cloth, along with what appeared to be waterskins. At the very bottom, there was also a red wound packet, as well as what was possibly the most useful item they could have given me. With the map, I now had a good view of the estate, allowing me to figure out my route.

Moving into one of the back rooms, I began to eat a sandwich as I planned where to go. I had a vague sense of where I was, somewhere very close to the middle of the estate. What I wanted to do is go straight towards the far edges, avoiding people if possible, and then make my way towards one of the two mansions. If my guess was correct, they're would be "treasures" that would give me an edge in this battle at the mansion, and it would definitely be a place that Vlaine would head towards. That left me with the choice of which mansion to head to.

I hoped that they didn't actually call the two mansions Darkhold Keep and Dragonflight keep, but that's what was written above them on the map. While neither sounded very appealing, at least the Dragonflight one didn't come off as strictly sinister. I planned my route with the intent to always be travelling near woods, and then decided I might as well relax while I finished another sandwich.

That plan evaporated rather quickly as I heard the door open.

The person who had entered at opened the door carelessly and loudly, but as no more sounds came from that room, I made the assumption that they knew someone was in here. Looking around at my surroundings, I suddenly realized just how stupid I was.

I had picked my sword for the primary reason that I wanted something with good reach and a bit of weight to it. Inside this building, however, the length of the weapon made it all but useless. There was almost no way for me to swing it, at least not in a way that would actually hit a person with enough force to rupture a bag.

I knew what I had to do. Kneeling in front of the door, with my sword high above my head, I would slam it down on them as hard as I could. While they were disorriented from the blow, I would leap forward, and punch them squarely in the heart.

I waited, ready for the moment they would come in through the door.

The door opened a crack.

With it still mostly closed, I saw a person look in. They saw me, in my ridiculous position, and then just shut the door.

Almost a full thirty seconds later, the door opened again just a little bit, then closed again. This happened twice more, before I realized they were probably just toying with me at this point. I stood up, put my sword against the wall, and then moved right behind the door. The next time they would open, they'd not know where I was, enter the room, and then I'd punch them squarely in the back.

The door opened a crack.

Then it slammed open, crashing into me with incredible force. Had I been standing straight on, that would have been the end of the tournament for me right there. Instead, the wound packet on my right arm burst, and almost a second later a wave of pain hit me.

I now knew why they put the packets directly on the skin. Inside, it wasn't just corn syrup and red food coloring. As the liquid poured over my arm, I felt a slight sting that quickly grew into a terrible burning sensation. It must have been some sort of horrible acid, and all I wanted to do was get it off as soon as possible. I didn't even have to pretend my arm was useless, as the slightest movement intensified the pain dramatically.

And the smell! When Percival had broken it in the room, I had been much too far away. With the packet having exploded right on my arm, a wicked scent akin to vinegar hit me, and then it intensified several times over. If I had not known any better, I would have thought I had just tried to suck an entire bottle of vinegar through my nose, and my only thought was that I wanted this stuff off of me as soon as possible.

Before I could do anything, however, the person had already entered the room.

Wielding a simple sword, it was the person who had mysteriously appeared wearing the cloak. Now, close up, I knew why they had chosen to wear such a concealing outfit.

She was a girl.

Without even allowing me to finish being confused, she whipped her sword at me, aiming at my head. I tried to bring my left arm up in time to block, but her strike was just way too fast. I was hit hard, hard enough for my silly hat to fly off my head.

She didn't wait for me to recover, and struck me again in the same spot, dropping me to my feet. While the thin foam on the pipe might prevent me from getting bruised, my brain was still being tossed around in my skull with each blow. Desperately not wanting to take another blow like that, I leapt at her legs, trying to force her to the ground. Had I had two hands, I might have succeeded, but with only one she managed to step out of the way, but not before hitting me once again squarely in the head.

My brain throbbing, I still had enough sense to know that she was just playing with me. With any of the three blows she had landed on me she could have broken any wound packet she wanted. A flood of questions filling my head, including who in the world she was, were quickly tossed aside by a single, shining thought.

I didn't want to get hit in the head again.

I squared off against her, ignoring the rest of my body. She didn't seem to realize I knew the one place that she was targeting, and went after my head again. With my left hand, I tried to grab her sword as it flew straight at me. It struck my palm before I could close my fingers around it, with enough force to make me regret trying to catch it. But as she pulled the sword back for another strike, I was more than ready. Rushing forward, I lifted my left hand, ready to punch her. Falling for my feint, she slammed her sword directly into my bracer, tossing my arm out wide. Ignoring the pain, I proceeded with my real attack, slamming my foot down onto her upper thigh.

You best be having part 3 ready to go

It sank in, and her leg buckled. The strike itself hadn't been very hard, but I knew full well what kind of pain her leg was probably in, as my right arm still felt like it was ablaze. But she handled it well, limping back away from me. While I really didn't want to get any closer to her ridiculous swordsmanship, I knew that we had to settle this fight. Just as I advanced towards her, in the fakest attempt at a gruff voice I'm sure she could muster, she told me to wait.

I almost wanted to go right ahead and tell her right there that I knew she was a girl, but looking at how I had just been beaten silly by her, I thought it better to continue to feign ignorance. I simply waited, unsure how to react. She then asked for a truce.

I accepted probably faster than I should have. It may be because I knew full well that she hadn't been trying to eliminate me from the tournament, but even so I still had no reason to trust her. Despite that, my right arm (and my head as well, for that matter) was hurting terribly, and I wanted to get whatever liquid was on it off as soon as possible. After accepting, I didn't even wait for her reply, as I raced over to where the bathroom was. Ripping off my shirt, I quickly doused my arm in the sink, and was glad to see that the liquid came off easily with the water. Likewise, it came out of the sleeve of my shirt with no problem, with even the scent almost completely gone. Feeling relieved, I moved back into the main room.

>>11514269
+1

major blueballs last night, OP

She had been waiting her turn, and limped into the bathroom after me. When she had finished in there, I noticed that she allowed her arm to sag, but no longer limped. Realizing she must have switched her arm and leg wound packets, I couldn't help but wonder if that was against the rules. Ignoring that for the moment, I watched as she sat down at the table across from me, and then we introduced ourselves.

I didn't have much to tell her besides my name, and she didn't really seem interested in even that. She, however, seemed rather excited about revealing that she was a girl, with a dramatic pull of her hood and a toss of her light brown hair. While her gender wasn't a real shock, seeing her face clearly allowed me to make a rather unexpected connection.

She was one of the Hunting Dogs. While her hair was a bit darker than the rest of the family I had seen, her face was almost identical to that of her sister's. Without makeup, or perhaps since she was younger, she didn't have the same aura as her older sister. With a little guessing, I figured her to be somewhere around sixteen, which made me somewhat even more uneasy about losing to her. She seemed rather disappointed that I wasn't more surprised, but I doubt I had the acting skills necessary to indulge her. She introduced herself as Dindrane, and while I should have, I didn't point out that her family had some of the worst names I'd ever encountered.

Pushing other questions aside, I asked how long this truce would last. She replied that she was looking for allies, and that I had "passed the test." I frowned at her, as I was fairly certain that both of us knew that if she had been testing me, I had failed miserably.

Before saying anything else, she carefully took out her ear piece, and motioned for me to do the same. Without another word, she gently took them and placed them inside a small box. As soon as she finished, she began to speak rapidly.

She began to explain her story, and in stark contrast to her sister, I listened intently.

This tournament had been the oldest son of the Hunting Dog family's idea. Lancelot had always been Blanchefleur's favorite brother, which was somewhat impressive considering there were eight of them. With 2 sisters already married, but perhaps not happily, Arthur decided that he would find a perfect suitor in a far more "romantic" method. Having filled Blanchefleur with all sorts of ideas about romance from Arthurian legend, she agreed to Lancelot's plan with almost no hesitation. Her other brother's likewise agreed to it wholeheartedly, with a single condition. If any of them managed to win the tournament, they would have full rights to choose Blanchefleur's suitor.

While being athletic and handsome seemed to be important qualifiers, most of the other participants were also from old wealth families, with many of them having known her for years and some having already proposed to Blanchefleur many times. In the mindset of most of the participants, the monetary prize was not even a consideration. In fact, Dindrane revealed that the prize was really just the extra money after collecting our entrance fees and deducting the cost of this whole event. With math swirling in my head, $1,000 times over a hundred people minus the $25,000 prize money meant that they were spending over $75,000 for this tournament.

My head reeling at just how much money was being practically thrown away, I asked what exactly Dindrane expected to do, entering this tournament. She replied that she wanted to be the one that chose who would marry Blanchefleur. Still thinking about the cost of the event, I whimsically asked her if she had anyone in mind as her choice.

She explained that she would marry her sister.

We just stared at each other. She was obviously waiting for a response, and I was definitely not quick-witted enough to deliver one. Instead, I casually picked up a waterskin, pulled out the stopper, and took a few sips. The silence dragged on, until it became quite clear that I wasn't going to make any wild reaction.

Moving away from the subject, she explained that while she was rather good with a sword, she had no way of defeating her brothers. Beyond them, she was certain there were at least a few people who were on the same level as her brothers, though she could only guess who they were. She told me this, and there was that a short pause, as we both realized that if she couldn't beat them, I certainly did not stand a chance. Without either of us voicing this concern, she explained that she wanted to get at least one more person to join this alliance.

Before things got out of hand, I asked her what would happen if our plan succeeded, and we ended up being the last two (or three) people remaining. She put it simply, saying that we'd split the prize, with her getting the sister, and I getting the prize money. If we got a third person, it would have to be someone who would be willing to take half the prize money, and I would have to settle for half as well.

I at first resisted this proposal. Only at first, as I slowly realized that this was easily the best offer I was going to get. With a pact formed, I told her my plan of how to proceed. She disagreed immediately, saying that the easiest route to the Dragonflight manor was through the center of the estate, since everyone would probably think like I did and keep towards the edges. However, she agreed we should follow my plan, since she intended to meet at least a third person before her brothers entered the fight.

I asked her if she knew who Vlaine was. She did, but said she probably wanted to get someone a little more skilled than him to join us. While I was about to say that he was a decent fighter, I knew that I really wasn't in a position to say that. Even so, I said that we'd at least be able to trust him.

She corrected me, by saying that only I would be able to trust him. If the two of us teamed up, we could potentially betray her. I almost said I had no intention of betraying her, but I realized that she was probably just being argumentative. Dropping the matter, I asked what we were going to do about her leg and my arm.

There was only one extra wound packet that I found, and I offered it to her, knowing that her arm was probably several times more useful than mine. She refused, however, saying that she only needed one for her sword, while I needed both my arms to weild mine.

I left the largest room to go and get the wound packet from the smaller one, and quickly attached it. I noticed that the skin where the liquid had touched me was slightly discolored, but I could only hope that was because of the dye.

When I returned to the larger room, she gave me pack my earpiece. Though I was uncertain as to what exactly Dindrane had not wanted anyone else to overhear, I at least had a vague idea. Without another word, we left the small building, and started to head north.

Apparently, the estate was large enough for even Dindrane to have to consort the map. But, as soon as we had settled on a path, we made our way without any attempt to hide our presence. Realizing that I was following the plans of a sixteen year-old girl, I began to feel slightly uneasy. That feeling grew as the minutes passed, until my instincts proved themselves right with an arrow digging itself into my shoulder gaurd.

These were no nerf darts. While they had no point and were made of some kind of heavy foam, the arrow still managed to pack a fair punch. This arrow was quickly followed by another, but I already knew what direction they were coming from. Turning to the side, I planted my sword point down in front of me, telling Dindrane to get behind me. The second arrow missed completely, but the third and fourth struck my sword before the assualt stopped.

The training with Hardule had not been without merit. I knew that right now the archer was changing his angle, and I wasn't going to simply stand there. I ran towards where the arrows had come from, trying to see where the archer was. I stopped as I heard the strange buzz that these arrows made as they flew through the air, dropping to the ground. It flew over me, coming slightly from my right, and I changed my direction accordingly.

Finally, I saw him.

He was unreal. He was picking us off with his arrows from well over two hundred feet away, despite the poor quality of these arrows. I had been expecting him to be much closer, but with his position uncovered, I sprinted towards him. He shot another two arrows at me, but they were deflected easily by my sword. As I neared him, he seemed unperturbed, calmly launching arrow after arrow at me. The closer I got, the better his shots were, with some actually striking me in my shins and my shoulders. These hurt a fair bit, but not enough to stop my advance.

As I got close, I slowed down, waiting for him to try and increase the distance between us by running backwards. He, however, held his position, forcing me to keep using my sword as a shield as I neared him. Within the last 20 feet, both of us stopped, ready for the final exchange. He stared at me, waiting for me to sprint forward, so he could take his final shots and hope to score a hit.

With a rashness I myself didn't expect, I rushed forward.

I didn't bother to weave and dodge, simply trying to close the gap between us as soon as possible. Though I thought I was fairly quick, the Archer had plenty of time to line up his shot before I reached him. He let the arrow fly, and at this range, I had no chance of being quick enough to react.

The arrow slammed directly into my forehead, whipping my head back. I stood, dazed, with just enough time to realize that I had left my hat at that house, which was probably a good thing. By the time I had recovered, he was already preparing a second shot. At this point, however, he was far too close.

I slammed the tip of my sword into his bow just as he let the arrow fly, burying it into the dirt. I went for the bow again, but he managed to pull it back out of my range. Before I started my next attack, I remembered that we were supposed to be looking for allies.

I took a look at the man. He was probably in his early twenties, taller but skinnier than me. He was dressed in layers of light and dark green, making him blend in fairly well with the surrounding foliage. He also seemed to focus almost too intently on me, ready to react to any of my movements. I hoped to surprise him with my next one.

I dropped my sword, then showed him my palms, a gesture of peace. He reacted instantly, pulling an arrow from his quiver and pointing the bow at my heart. I leapt forward, and the arrow struck me hard in the stomach with enough force to make me regret coming to this tournament. Ignoring the pain, I grabbed at the arrow that stuck out of the ground, intending to use it to strike him.

As I swung it, the foam arrow snapped in my hands, striking him limply across the face with about as much force as a butterfly kiss. He seemed shocked for just a second, but he immediately dropped his bow in the next, intending to finish this off with a fist fight.

>>11514299

in b4 he wins the tournament, but old social prejudices keep him from marrying the girl, so he runs off with the sister

OR

in b4 LARP sex

Before either of us launched a punch, Dindrane had managed to catch up, and shouted at both of us to stop. His reaction at her voice was rather impressive, as he genuinely looked shocked and amazed. As she pulled back her hood, followed by an exaggerated toss of her hair, he even let his jaw drop. "Dindrane?!"

I asked how they knew each other. Dindrane replied that she had no idea who he was, though it wouldn't be strange for him to know her. He introduced himself as Jim, and I immediately shook his hand, his being the first normal name I had heard all day.

Convincing Jim to join with us was pathetically easy. I know that it was mostly thanks to Dindrane's coaxing, but his willingness to take half the prize money as his reward seemed rather forced. I didn't trust him, especially knowing that he could put an arrow in my back at any time, and I said this clearly to Dindrane.

She looked at me quizically, and then asked how it was that I could trust her, despite her being just as capable of putting a sword in my back. With no real answer and no real ground to argue on, I decided I might as well put my trust in Jim, since it seemed that he at least understood the value of working with us.

If this is another Bel Air I will find you, OP. I will find you and fuck you up.

The three of us continued in the direction we had been heading, almost too boldly for my tastes. We no longer had a reason to attract attention, having found a third member to our little adventuring party, and we were very likely to run into another group of people who had allied together.

I told the both of them these thoughts, and Dindrane laughed. She pointed to the way Jim and I were at each other's throats within seconds of seeing each other, and that she doubted that anyone else would be willing to talk when it was several times easier and less risky just to kill them. I argued against her, but she was convinced that with the three of us, we didn't have to worry about anyone, since we could take down any lone warrior who showed up.

Minutes later, I managed to hear a slight rustle in the bushes around us. Thinking it was the wind, I didn't even manage to spout a cool line before five people emerged from their ambush positions, completely surrounding us.

I would have loved to see the shocked expression on Dindrane's face, and I would have loved even more to been able to gloat about being right, but I don't even think I have to mention I had more important things to worry about. Flailing wildly with my giant sword, I managed to open up a small breach. Without hesitating, Jim ran right past me and through the breach.

We all watched him run. Our five assailants seemed concerned, until he ran some hundred feet away. I realized that they had no idea just how far Jim could shoot, and smiled. My smile quickly disappeared as he ran well beyond two hundred, then three hundred, until finally he just disappeared altogether.

Not sure whether I was more angry or more horrified, it didn't seem like my enemies were going to give me a chance to figure it out. All five were using long swords, except one who had some odd, axe-like weapon. They tightened their circle, until Dindrane bumped into my back slightly. She was breathing rather quickly, and as I noticed that I saw that my own breathing had accelerated to a fairly rapid pace.

Without even thinking, I let one hand go of the sword, and pointed at one of men, shouting out a challenge, hoping he'd be willing to fight me one-on-one.

He laughed. They all started laughing. Feeling a little foolish, I actually laughed a little myself.

They all attacked at once.

I didn't have a plan. All I had was an insane amount of information colliding together at once. My priority right now was not to protect myself, but to get Dindrane from being surrounded. If she were out in the open it meant that she had a chance to kill them all, even if I had to sacrifice both my arms and legs. I had to open up a hole in this circle, no matter what. Ignoring any sense of defense, I realized my sword was far too cumbersome in this situation. In fact, I was quickly learning it was cumbersome in just about every situation.

I threw my sword, hurling it with my entire body. It slammed into the person in front of me, who harmlessly blocked it, but I followed right after the blade. I dove at his chest, him and his allies shocked by what I assumed was excessively physical violence. I had heard Percival say that we could strike our foes with our hands and feet, and I only hoped that meant I could get away with a few other parts of the body.

I dropped him to the ground, ready to knee him in the gut, but as he landed, a sudden blast of vinegar scent and a shocked expression on his face told me that he had probably just taken the worst fall of his life. I leapt off him, turning to the rest of the group.

They looked at me as if I had just murdered someone (and in a way, I had), and they hesitated to come at me for the briefest of seconds. Dindrane did not waste that second, and struck the one with the axe squarely in the heart before dashing past him. With the two of us now on opposite flanks of the three remaining enemies, we were in a much better position, though still at a fair disadvantage.

As an arrow flew in, striking one in the back of his head, I felt the sudden change in the winds of this battle. Picking up one the sword of the man I had dropped, I stepped forward, fully forgetting that any of these three could probably defeat me without a problem. Thankfully, none of them knew this, and they thought that Dindrane was the less intimidating one.

As I watched, Jim struck one in his legs while Dindrane finished off all three of them. Almost as soon as their heart or back wound packets broke, they would just stand, almost as if in they were in a daze, before marching off in what I assumed was the direction of the first mansion.

Dindrane ran up to me, panting slightly from the battle, before telling me that I fought like an animal. Her tone was half mocking and half appreciative, and I responded by running over to where Jim was and I began yelling at him. He apologized halfheartedly, explaining that he had to make sure they thought he was gone before he could start firing. While I knew this was a lie, I didn't press the matter any further, simply telling him that his plan had nearly killed Dindrane and me.

Realizing I still had the sword I had taken, I asked Dindrane if the rules allowed me to hold onto it. She said there was nothing against me having two weapons now, and that I should have had the foresight to pick up a weapon for Jim. I then picked up my giant sword, knowing that if I planned on using it again, I needed to learn how first.

By now, it was already late in the afternoon. After consulting the map, we decided to stop at another of the small cottages, and hopefully find a meal. As we neared it, our earpieces crackled. After the brief second of static, Blanchefleur's angelic voice descended upon me, though her message was far less than pleasant.

She announced that there were now only 93 participants remaining. But, to make matters more interesting, roaming "monsters" and "ruffians" would start patrolling, and that she wished the best of luck to us.

I turned to Dindrane, asking what in the world she meant by "monsters" and "ruffians." She replied that it meant that the players who had fallen had a chance to reenter the tournament, by killing 5 players. Also, the family had hired a few weapon and martial art instructors, body guards, and even a few light mercenaries to help speed up the elimination process.

She said this calmly, nonchalantly, without a doubt trying to express shock and amazement due to this absolutely bullshit turn of affairs. I kept my emotions in check, however, and matched her calm tone as I said that the difficulty of this tournament had apparently risen. She replied that her brothers had still not entered the picture, and that when they did, the real hard part would begin.

We entered the cottage, and were glad to see an identical package resting on the table. Opening it, I started to eat one of the sandwiches before tossing a few towards Dindrane and Jim. I then took the wound packet within the parcel tossed it gently at Dindrane, who headed into the bathroom. When she returned, it was only then that I realized she had taken down four people while she only had the use of one arm.

We ate as we consulted the map, looking at potential alternate routes. One thing that caught my eye was a large hedge maze, and I pointed it out. Dindrane thought to herself for a while, as Jim told me that it was a bad idea to try and go through it, especially since his arrows were practically useless inside there. I was willing to agree with him, but Dindrane cut him off. She said that because it was so dangerous and risky to fight in there, no one else would likely move through it. I didn't like her reasoning at all, but she then said that she knew that maze perfectly, and that even if they were forced to fight, she would have an overwhelming advantage in there.

So, our current path was going through a garden, into the hedge maze, a smaller garden, and then we'd reach the mansion. I thought this was a fairly good plan, though I was uncertain about the wisdom of going through the maze. Even so, I had gotten this far without being able to credit any of it on intelligent planning, so I agreed to it.

Jim continued to be opposed to going through the hedge maze, saying that with his bow and arrow he preferred more open spaces, like the gardens. If possible, he wanted to go through the places with the least obstructions, so that he could see (and shoot) people from a distance. Dindrane simply said that less obstructions meant that it was also easier to spot us, and that we definitely didn't want to be spotted by any monsters. Finally, he gave in, and after pocketting a few sandwiches and waterskins, we left the cottage.

We made our way into the larger garden, and I saw now just how open it was. There were only a few bushes that rose above knee height, and everything had been arranged with a great deal of space. As we entered into it, I felt absolutely exposed, far more than even when we had been on the paths. I cursed silently at Jim for wanting to go through more of these, and I soon found myself longing for the safety of the woods.

By soon, I mean as soon as arrows started to rain down at us.

we had only managed to get slightly past the middle of the garden before I heard the first buzz. The arrow landed dangerously close, and I turned in the direction it was fired, hoping that Jim would be able to shoot down our assailant.

I saw ten orcs.

Stripped straight from a goddamn movie, I saw ten orcs (or Uruk-hai, if you want to be all particular about it) with bows and arrows, all aimed at us. Looking at our Legolas, I was just about to ask him if he thought he could take them. He was already running, and I followed right after him as arrows began to rain down on us. Thankfully, my big sword covered the wound packet on my back, but the rest of my body was not as lucky. Worse still, Dindrane had no such protection, and was desperately trying to swat down the arrows as they came to her.

The orcs began to advance after us, firing the entire time, and I saw that Dindrane couldn't keep moving backwards without crashing into small plants and other obstacles. I grabbed her hand and began to lead her, arrows striking me painfully. My head, the back of my legs, and my exposed shoulder had all taken multiple hits, and the arrows were still raining down.

Suddenly, Jim bolted away from us, heading away from the hedges. I at first thought to follow after him, but I knew that right now, my only hope was to reach the maze. As Jim separated from us, two orcs likewise separated from the rest, and moved towards the direction he was going. The other eight, in their absolutely overdone costumes, continued their menacing march towards us, quickly gaining ground.

Just as we neared the hedge maze, Dindrane screamed. I felt a yank on my arm, realizing I was no longer guiding her but dragging her. Turning, I saw the red liquid soaking her right leg, an arrow with a dark red tip not far from her. Tears were in her eyes, and I knew that something was not right. She didn't just pretend to limp, but seemed to be really in pain with each step.

With the eight orcs still marching, firing their arrows, I knew that she'd never make it. Forgetting my own strength, I lifted her into my arms, running into the maze as arrows continued to pelt my back.

Once we entered the maze, I remembered my own strength. There was no way I could continue to run while carrying her, so I gently let her down, despite knowing that the orcs were only seconds behind us. I lent her my shoulder as she limped in honest pain, directing us through the maze. We hadn't gone very far before I could hear the orc shouts coming from all around us, them having split up in order to find us. Dindrane continued to move as fast as she could, with lefts after rights in the twisting corridors that all looked alike to me, until she led us straight into a dead end. I looked at her furiously for having made such a mistake at such a crucial time, but she continued forward, until she pushed her way straight through the hedges.

We entered a small closed off area, completely surrounded by the hedge walls. "We should be safe here," she whispered, before falling to the ground.

Without bothering to ask for her permission, I pulled down her pants to see why she was in such pain. As I removed the ruptured wound packet, she winced, and I saw what had happened. The arrow had managed to break the skin.

While the wound itself wasn't very deep, the liquid in the packets must have seeped into it, and I myself winced at just the thought of the pain she was in. Having it on the skin was bad enough, but I was surprised she hadn't fainted from the pain. Without hesitation, I grabbed one of the waterskins from my belt pouch, and began pouring it on the wound. Seeing as this wasn't washing the red liquid away fast enough, I grabbed the back ends of the skin, ripping them apart and releasing all the water at once.

Dindrane was immediately relieved, sighing as the water washed most of it away. While I was glad about that, my ripping of the bag had not gone unnoticed. An orc began to shout, and soon we could hear them all around us. I held my breath, hoping that they wouldn't notice the pungent smell of vinegar around us. A minute passed, and none ever seemed to get very close to us. Wondering how they hadn't noticed our scent, I realized that their huge noses were prosthetics and makeup, meaning they hindered the ability to smell rather than aided it.

As the sound of orcs slowly faded, Dindrane made a small, makeshift bandage using the cloth from a sandwich. she began to pull open her shirt, and only then did I have enough sense to look away. She once again switched her arm and leg packets, and then she sighed deeply, signaling that she had finished dressing.

Sitting down across from her, I likewise let out a sigh, wondering how either of us expected to win this. We sat there, silent, letting our thoughts race through our heads. After several minutes, I finally broke the silence, wondering aloud whether Jim had gotten away.

Dindrane hoped he had. I hoped he didn't.

>>11514084

As long as he has more to add than last time, I'm fine with him re posting it in full. That would also be best for advertising to people who haven't seen the first part of it. I know most times I see some story start halfway through I'll just ignore it... but if there is a nice juicy introduction to the story I might just read the entire thing.

HEY. HEY YOU. YEAH YOU.

THIS IS REALLY BORING, AND YOU'RE A BAD WRITER.

We returned to silence after that, neither of us inclined to say anything. Finally, it was Dindrane's turn to break the silence, as she explained that the this hedge maze might be one of her favorite parts of the entire estate. In fact, she continued, this little patch we were sitting in was her favorite part of the maze. It was a secret little chamber, that only two people knew about.

I asked if the other person was Blanchefleur. She nodded.

Another moment passed, before she sniffed loudly, telling me that she didn't really want to marry her sister. I think a sarcastic "Big surprise," didn't really fit the mood, so I just kept silent. She continued, saying that she just really didn't want her sister to get married, because that meant she wouldn't be able to spend as much time with her. While I honestly couldn't care less about how this crazy family spent their time, I did sympathize a bit with her, especially since she had gone through all this trouble just to show how much she cared for her sister.

I realized then that even if what Dindrane was doing was out of selfishness, it was probably the best outcome for Blanchefleur. Getting a husband through this tournament could only lead to disaster, and the only way to ensure that didn't happen was for Dindrane to win. Wondering why I even cared what happened to Blanchefleur, I once again secretly questioned whether I had fallen for her.

As Dindrane began to tell me a few stories about her childhood with Blanchefleur, I listened half-heartedly, more concerned about what to do next. Looking for Jim was an option, but not one I really wanted to pursue. Looking at it, having a third person didn't really mean anything, especially when that wasn't even close to the largest group around. Even if we needed a third person, I knew for certain I didn't want one as flighty as Jim was. What Dindrane and I needed now was a person we could trust.

As she finished a story about her and her sisters having an enormous tea party with hundreds of stuffed animals, I told her that we needed to make our way to the mansion. If I knew how Vlaine thought, he would definitely be making his way there, and we needed him to join our group.

Dindrane seemed very reluctant about looking for Vlaine, and I asked her why. Hesitantly, she replied that if Vlaine would team up with anyone, he would team up with Caradoc, who would almost surely pick him to marry his sister. I asked how she knew this, and she replied that she had been there when Caradoc and Vlaine were discussing the tournament. Then, very hesitantly, she said that it was that time that Vlaine had told Caradoc my story, and after she had heard it, she was the one to convince Caradoc to send me an invitation.

Bewildered, I somewhat angrily asked her what part of my story made it seem like I'd have any place at this tournament. She replied that it seemed like I was a person who's only love was fighting against the establishment, that I was an absolute rebel. She thought I would be the perfect person to help her defeat not only the other participants, but her brothers as well.

Sighing, I asked if her being the first person I met during the tournament was a coincidence. After a second's pause, she said that it wasn't.

Knowing that I had basically been puppeteered into this situation from the very beginning didn't change much besides my mood. While I was still stuck in this losing scenario, I at least now had a person I could direct my bitterness towards. Rather than exploding, yelling at her for thinking that I had any chance of helping her when almost everyone here could cough and sneeze to kill me, I sat brooding, wondering what I could do to get out of this mess.

I determined that the core of the plan remained unchanged. Head towards the Mansion, find things to help us. Any anger I had towards Dindrane dissipated quickly, as I realized that I would be relying on her if I wanted any chance to win this whole thing.

Realizing that neither of us had spoken for several minutes after she had revealed she had planned to partner with me since before the tournament had even started, I looked towards her. As sincerely as I could, I told her my only goal was to make her win this tournament, and that I would do everything I could to achieve that. While I lacked skill, and perhaps wasn't exceptionally good at making plans, and there were plenty of people that were simply stronger than me, I would put everything I had, be it my body, my mind, or my pride, into making sure we wouldn't lose.

She looked at me, completely unconvinced.

Ignoring her blasé response, I told her we had no time to waste, and that we had to make our way towards the mansion. She quickly agreed, and we made our way out of the hedge maze.

END OF PART II

but where was part 3?

While the maze was fairly complex, Dindrane seemed to know her way through it perfectly. Minutes later, were exited the hedge maze and stared across a small garden at an enormous castle. It was definitely the Dragonflight mansion, and I couldn't help but be impressed by the sheer size of it. It made the small cottage within the garden look like a doll house in comparison, and I was certain that I was only seeing a small part of the entire thing.

Looking towards the cottage, I wondered if it would be wise to make an unplanned stop. While I'm certain we could find mysterious "treasures" inside the mansion, there was no guarantee we'd find any wound packets. While there was no guarantee we'd find one in the cottage either, there was at least a good chance.

Just before I told Dindrane my plan, a black coffin slid up from out of the ground.

I gave up.

This entire time, I had been trying to find sanity in this whole situation. I had been forcing myself to think of this as just an elaborate game, not much different from a LARP. As the coffin rose, I realized that this was something well beyond that. Somehow, with the power of money and insanity, I had been transported into another dimension, a world where logic and reason had no place.

AND THAT'S HOW I BECAME THE PRINCE OF A TOWN CALLED BEL AIR.

END PART III

>the family had hired a few weapon and martial art instructors, body guards, and even a few light mercenaries

This is basically like that movie with Michael Douglas, The Game? Remember that?

I'm out man. The first one was good, but this is just ridiculous.

>after spithead

Dindrane stared at the coffin, obviously waiting for it to dramatically open. Ignoring her desire for theatrics, I rushed forward, slamming my foot into the coffin. I heard a grunt from within, as well as the sound of metal snapping as the coffin fell to the ground, free from the decive that was raising it. Without giving whoever was inside a chance to react, I sat down on the lid, motioning for Dindrane to follow my example. She simply stared at me, her feelings mixed between relief that the enemy had been taken care of, and disappointment that such elaborate planning and preperation on the monster's part had gone to waste.

I heard a dull pounding coming from inside, but the lid was secure under my weight. Realizing I couldn't just sit here all day, I told Dindrane to grab some heavy things to put on the casket. As soon as I said this, I heard a young girl's voice come pleading out from the coffin.

A twang of guilt hit me, mostly for selfish reasons, I guess. If things kept happening as they did, I doubted I'd be able to get away from all this without the reputation that I was excessively violent towards young girls. The monster pleaded for us to not lock her in the coffin, since it was dark and scary and lonely.

Ignoring her words, I motioned for Dindrane to hurry up, as she was dragging over a small wooden bench. Dindrane, however, looked at me with troubled eyes. She asked the monster whether or not it would attack us if we let it out. Shaking my head to show my firm disapproval of what I assumed Dindrane's plan was, I was promptly ignored by the two of them as they struck a deal, to release the monster in exchange for us not getting attacked. Dindrane then tried to convince me that it was a good idea for this monster to be free, since it would help eliminate our competition. The monster, with the most pathetic voice I had ever heard in my life, as if she were on the brink of crying, poured her heart out, begging me to let her go.

>>11514639
You do realize that this isn't the same writefag right?

>>11514639

Go read Dream Park, or the sequels. This is small time.

Don't listen to the doubters, OP. I'm enjoying it.

Now, I want everyone to note that I got off the lid with EXTREME reluctance. I probably only got off because I wanted to pretend that I was sympathetic and sensitive and willing to help out someone just because they asked me too.

As soon as I stood up, the lid flew open, and Dracula leapt out of his coffin, with a triumphant "Vla!".

Looking closely, I realized it wasn't Béla Lugosi, and in fact he really didn't look anything like him beyond the slicked black hair and the classic outfit. His accent and voice, however, were spot on, and it took me a moment to realize that this man had managed to fool me by impersonating a young girl.

Looking towards the sky with a desperate plee that no one would think of me as easily manipulated and naive, my gaze returned to earth as Dindrane cried out "It's Mr. Belvedere!"

Seeing that name meant nothing to me, she continued, "He's my sister's Acting instructor!"

Dread.

I don't know why, exactly. Had she told me he was a mercenary from Siberia, or a ten-time world wrestling champion, I think I would have reacted more calmly. For some reason, however, hearing that he was some kind of drama coach convinced me that he was definitely not a person I wanted to fight.

He didn't leave me with much of a choice in that matter, breaking the promise he had made only seconds ago as he tried to attack me. Hoping to disable him, I struck my long sword at him, catching him squarely in the place his right wound packet should be. He reacted with indifference, lunging at me, his hands grasping for my heart. Thinking my blow must have either missed or not have been strong enough, I slammed it again into his arm, and was once again met with the same indifferent reaction.

>>11514752

Fucking resistant-to-normal undead.

Dindrane was not letting my distraction go without merit. She had already moved around to his back, striking him hard.

I waited for him to drop, but he simply continued, rushing towards me without caring what blows I landed on him. Coming dangerously close to hitting my heart, I cursed at his supposed invincibility as I thrust a kick into his thigh. The blow forced him to take a step back, and he stopped his advance just long enough to deliver a mocking laugh. With the same Hungarian accent Lugosi used, Mr. Belvedere ridiculed us for thinking a vampire could be killed by "mortal means." He then leapt at me, perhaps forgetting he wasn't a realy vampire, his hands aimed at my neck.

I did something impolite. With his fangs bared at me, I reacted to them with a primal instinct, one that I probably should have apologized for. I slammed my leather bracer directly into his teeth, and heard the cracking sound as his fake eyeteeth probably fell into the back of his throat. He reeled back, cursing, as I wondered whether now was the time to try and finish him off. Knowing that I didn't even know if I could hurt him without "actually" hurting him, I bolted, heading towards the small cottage. Dindrane saw my intent, following quickly behind me.

Belvedere recovered quickly, chasing after me. While I saw that I could easily outrun him, Dindrane was a fair bit slower. The vampire managed to gain some ground on us, but we reached the cottage and slammed the door shut before he reached us. Fumbling with the lock, I saw that he didn't even bother to come near the cottage, and I wondered if he, like in some vampire stories, could not enter a private residence without permission.

We waited inside the cottage, watching as he circled around us. Before I realized it, Dindrane was removing her shirt and applying a new wound packet she had found in a parcel on the table. Wondering why she hadn't chosen to go into the bathroom like she had before, I simply stared out the windows, hoping the persistant vampire would give up.

Eventually, he walked right up to the door, and with an unreasonably polite tone, asked if we would let him in.

Absolutely amazed by his audacity, I almost wanted to open the door just to punch him. Without even bothering to reply, Dindrane and I took a few sips from the waterskins, waiting uncomfortably as he continued to try and convince us to open the door. He tried apologizing, making new promises, and even simply begging, in what could have been considered a stellar performance, but neither Dindrane or I were stupid enough to believe a single word he said. Eventually, he left the door step, returning to circling the cottage.

After about half an hour, Belvedere finally seemed to lose interest in us. We waited only a few minutes longer, before we dashed out of the cottage, heading towards the mansion. As expected, the fake Dracula appeared out of hiding, running after us in a full sprint. We ran with abandon, hoping that he'd be unable to enter the mansion. It soon became clear to him that he wouldn't even be able to catch up to Dindrane, and he stopped chasing us long before we reached the mansion itself.

With a bit of audacity of our own, we entered the mansion through the enormous main doors.

I am F5ing so hard that it's getting a dent in the middle.

This is fucking wonderful.

>>11514987
I totally agree.

OP, where do you live and what the hell are the names of all of these LARPs you go to? I wish to obtain the same title and rep as you.

The entrance room was enormous, but it wasn't big enough to make me stand around, looking in awe. I motioned towards a door, and the two of us began to travel throughout the mansion.

I had thought that the hedge maze was confusing, but this giant mansion was something else altogether. Had it not been for Dindrane, I'm sure I would have been hopelessly lost, trapped in corridors and rooms that began to blend together due to the sheer number of them. We occasionally had to backtrack, with our path sometimes blocked by red tape across a door or a corridor. Wondering where she was leading me, I asked Dindrane, hoping that she actually had an answer. She replied that we were heading towards the grand library, a place she was certain her siblings would have placed some treasure.

When we finally reached the library, I couldn't help but be surprised. I had been expecting perhaps a single large room, but I quickly saw that it was a collection of large rooms, with hundreds, if not thousands, of shelves.
Not knowing what "treasure" even looked like, finding it in here would definitely take some time.

Or so I thought.

In an almost comical manner, I noticed a blinking light almost as soon as I stepped into the library. Following it, I found an actual treasure chest sitting in the very center of the first room, with a single flashing LED light embedded into the top of it. Wondering why they didn't hadn't also added a spotlight and fireworks, I moved towards it. As I got near to it, I instinctively hesitated, wondering if these people would have gone so far as to set up traps. Dindrane wasn't worried at all about things like that, and marched right up to the chest.

>>11515009

OP's LARPs are fictional, though there's definitely a liberal salting of truth in the original story.

>>11515067
I believe the first one was 100% real TBH. This one, I think has some serious over exaggeration, but is based on a real story.

Inside, we found two wound packets, and three small books. The books were excessively ornate, with metal binding and leather covers, and I wondered how in the world they would help us. Opening one, I saw that only the first few pages had any writing on them, and I began to read.

They were spell books.

Realizing it would take some time to read through all the details, we move out of the center of the room, hiding ourselves in a corner.

Each of the books contained a single spell. To cast it, we simply had to speak loudly enough for the microphone to hear us clearly. The books were only good for one person; After a person had cast a spell from one, it would be registered as theirs, and only they could continue to cast the spell. However, if the "owner" of the spell was killed, anyone could pick up the book and become the new owner of the spell. Each spell was a little different, with all sorts of additional rules.

The first book contained the spell "Detection." With it, you could request information about the location of people. There was very little written about restrictions, and it seemed like it could be used at any time.

The second book had the spell "Cacophony." By casting this spell, everyone within a hundred feet would suddenly have their earpiece start playing strange sounds at the highest volume. While useful, it did have a strong limitation. You could only use it an amount of times equal to the number of people/monsters you've defeated.

The final spell was easily the strongest, and with the highest restriction.

Defy Death.

In order to use it once, you needed to have defeaten ten people. It could only be used once, afterwards no one could ever use the spell again. What it did was simple. If your black wound packets were broken, you would invoke the spell, return to the first mansion, and receive a new black wound packet instead of being considered dead.

As we read these books, Dindrane slowly went from just reading over my shoulder to resting her cheek against mine. None of us said anything, and we just continued reading as naturally as if we had known each other for years. If there was a proper way to react, I doubt I was in the mood to discover it, far more interested in deciding who would receive what spell. Thinking it over carefully, I broke the silence by saying that it would probably be best for her to take the two spells with the restrictions, since she would probably end up defeating more people than me. She simply nodded, a motion I felt rather than saw.

Taking the remaining book, I decided that I might as well test it out. After saying the verbal access code, "I cast magic Detection," I waited. A second later I heard a synthesized female voice, asking for the confirmation code. After reciting it from the book, the voice asked me what I wanted to know.

I started with an easy question. I asked where I was. Silence followed, until finally, after about ten seconds or so, the synthesized voice told me that I was within the Southeast wing of Dragonflight keep. Not knowing exactly where I was, I assumed it was correct. Thinking for a moment, I then asked where Vlaine was. Ten seconds later, it told me that he was within the Eastern wing of Darkhold keep.

Wondering why he had headed towards the more ominous sounding mansion, I made the assumption that he probably had not picked up a map. In any case, I was at least glad that he was still alive. Realizing I didn't know if Jim had managed to escape the orcs, I asked where he was. When the voice asked for his last name, I realized I had never learned it. Wondering if I should just ask where every Jim in the tournament was, I realized that even if I learned that, it wouldn't help in the slightest.

Thinking what next to ask, I thought I'd try a different type of question. I asked how many other people were within a hundred feet of me, wondering more about whether it would answer rather than about the answer itself. Ten seconds passed, then another ten, until finally the voice answered. "2."

Looking at Dindrane, I immediately moved further into the library, knowing that there was another person close by. She followed after me, and I whispered what I had learned. The look in her eyes convinced me that all she was thinking about was raising her kill score, but perhaps in connection to my technological clairvoyance, I had a bad premonition about whoever was coming our way.

Settling behind a bookcase, I moved a few books to get a clear view of the door. My blind set up, I waited.

Had I not been expecting it, I wouldn't have noticed him enter the room. He opened the massive doors silently, just enough to slip through, and he scurried across the ground towards the walls. He moved with almost inhuman speed, so fast that I could only barely make out a black blur. Even so, I knew perfectly well who he was.

where are the shenanigans regarding the first LARP mentioned

i was promised shenanigans

>>11515299
OH SHIT DUDE. THE ASSASSIN GUY.

SHIT IS GOING TO GO DOOOOOOOWWNNNN.

>>11515336

http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/11295346/

Vlaine betrays him, he will fuck with Dindrane.


Sure is foreseeable plot around here

He didn't move or act like a human. He darted between bookcases, moving absolutely silently. He made his way up to the chest, which was still flashing, and opened it quickly. Finding it empty, he immediately dropped to the floor.

Wondering what in the world he was doing, a terrible thought entered my head. Looking down, I saw my sneakers, still rather dirty from having run through dirt paths and gardens.

He disappeared behind a bookshelf, and I suddenly grew afraid. Dindrane might not have known exactly what was going on, but it looked like she realized that he knew we were still in the room. An instant later, he dashed into the corner we had been hiding in, appearing and disappearing with a speed I could barely keep up with.

Unable to see him, I quickly thought about my options. Not knowing why, I was almost paralyzed with fear, to the point where I chose perhaps the worse option: hope that he would stop looking for us. Unable to do much else, I glanced around me, hoping he wouldn't come rushing in at us from a direction I wasn't expecting.

Rather quickly, I determined that my fears were not unreasonable. If anything, I hadn't been scared enough.

He dropped down at us, his dagger flashing through the air. He had climbed the sides of the bookcases with silent ease and incredible speed, and it was only the delay in the drop that saved me. Dropping and rolling out of the way of his blade, I turned just in time to see him disappear behind another bookcase, well before Dindrane had even prepared an attack.

F5ing like the Fist of the North Star, thank you for making me want to go to my LARP again.

>>11515425
I'm doing the same man. Thinking about going to NERO Boston to try it out a bit.

Captcha: Tin surfing

>>11515392

Fuck that man, I wouldnt mess around with no subhuman mother fucker

Gif related: Its me getting the fuck outta there

what if an arrow or sword hit someone in the eye?

why no protective glasses?

captcha: ARENA SYSTEM

Breathing heavily already, I wondered if we had a chance to escape. Looking at the door, which seem so far away now, I knew neither of us could outrun him. Even without obstacles, I doubted that I could fight him and win, and in this room, with plenty of places for him to strike and fade away, I knew I didn't have a chance. The only one I could rely on was Dindrane, and the only chance she had to defeat him was for me to bring him out in the open.

I rushed into the center of the room, hoping Dindrane would realize my intention. As he would pop out to kill me, she would rush out of hiding in time to kill him before I lost more than an arm. Hoping my telepathy worked, I brandished my smaller sword, glancing all around me.

I saw a movement from behind me, just in time to react. I stopped my swing short, realizing that it was Dindrane who had appeared, and I grimaced slightly as I turned around again.

The two of us stood back to back in the center of the room, watching the book cases around us. I would catch a glimpse of him before he simply disappeared, leaving me to wonder if all I had seen was a shadow. It didn't take him long to decide to attack, and he burst out from behind a bookshelf, heading straight towards Dindrane. Before he reached her, he hurled a book directly at her head.

She reacted in time to block the book, but he followed it with a kick right into her stomach. The blow was harsh, and Dindrane fell back towards me. Bracing her with one arm, I flung my sword at him, hoping that I could force him back. He dodged by ducking forward, coming in far too close for me to avoid his blade.

>>11514525
>end of Part 2

>Captcha: Infantry, comedown

Thats right bitch, I'm calling in the armed forces on your ass for stopping right there.

>>11515526

He's already midway through part III, man. Chill.

Though I managed to avoid a blow to my heart, he struck me hard in my right shoulder, just above the wound packet. Dindrane, still hurting from the blow she had received, was able to move back a few feet, leaving me entangled with what I considered to be a barely human enemy. Hoping to score a hit on him or at least drive him back, I threw punch after punch, but it didn't take long for me to figure out that I was outclassed. He took a small step back, just to be out of my reach, and then landed a hit on my left arm, rupturing the wound packet.

The pain and smell coating my arm, I leapt back, hoping he would let up his assault. But as I moved, so did he, and his dagger kept flashing out at me. Purely on the defensive, I moved back, trying to block his hits with my right bracer. As I bumped into the bookcase behind me, I knew I was out of both space and luck.

As he aimed for my heart, I did something that I knew I was going to regret but I knew I'd regret more if I didn't. As he thrust the dagger forward, I deflected the blade downward, driving it straight into my stomach.

He had put all his weight into the stab, and as pain threatened to knock me unconscious, I only hoped that I wouldn't have to visit the hospital. Thankfully, my abs had deflected some of the force and the sword to my right side. Ignoring my pain, he moved to pull his sword back, but I pinned it against my side with my right arm. Not at all worried, he punched with his left hand, aiming for my heart.

Dindrane, rather than striking him in the back or his arm, moved in towards our side and slammed her sword down on his hands. While I would have thanked her for saving my life, his punch continued, striking me just below my heart. He leapt back as I dropped to my knees, the last three blows being almost too much for me to take.

He didn't have his dagger, but that didn't seem to matter much to him. He leapt forward, thinking to take on Dindrane unarmed. But Dindrane's sword now moved with a speed I knew she couldn't keep up for long, pushing him back and forcing him to block with his forearms. The expression on his face showed that he wasn't worried in the slightest, and I knew that he could just wait until she tired. Not wanting to give him that chance, I struggled back to my feet, the pain in my stomach and chest only worsening and my left arm burning from the foul red ichor.

As I watched him dodge, I thought the only thing that had a chance to hit him was a grenade. With none of those readily available, I decided I might as well create some pseudo-fireworks. I unclasped my cloak, spreading it out quickly before the bookshelf behind me. Ignoring the value of what I knew were books that I could never afford, I slid my arm behind them, dropping several of them into my cloak. Grabbing the corners of my cloak with my right arm, I lifted it up, wishing fervently that I could still use my left arm.

My actions had not gone unnoticed, and it appeared as if he knew perfectly well what I intended to do.

It appeared that way because I could see the slightest bit of fear behind his smirk.

No longer wasting time on the defensive, he began to strike back at Dindrane, taking a blow to his head for his impatience. Though Dindrane looked as if she would collapse at any second, her sword had not slowed at all, and she remained at the advantage against her unarmed opponent.

Not wanting to see her tire any further, I moved forward, swinging the heavy bundle over my head. As soon as I got it moving at a decent speed, I shouted at Dindrane, "DODGE!"

Both of them moved away from each other, making my shot easy. Letting go off all but one of the corners of my cloak, I watched as the books launched out of my cloak, almost like a shotgun blast of bricks. He crouched low, hoping to block as many of the books as he could with his arms, but it was too much. The books slammed into him, knocking him back, and I watched as he clutched his leg. Just as he never gave us a chance to recover, both Dindrane and I rushed towards him. Dindrane arrived first, and despite him trying his best, without the use of one of his legs he had both of his arms disabled before I managed to reach him.

With only a single leg left, and a fair amount of his body covered in what I could only call liquid pain, he was at our mercy. Without a single word, I watched as she struck him in the heart, and he cermoniously fell over without a word. There was a brief moment where he looked dazed, and I realized now that he was probably receiving instructions through his earpiece.

As silently as he had entered, he left, not even bothering to take his dagger. After watching him leave, I turned towards the books I had launched, seeing how several of them were heavily damaged and even stained by the red liquid. As Dindrane walked towards me, I prepared myself for a scolding.

She seemed completely unconcerned about the books, and asked me if I was alright. Right then, I would have preferred a scolding, because her question suddenly reminded me of the pain I was in. While there was only a dull pain in my stomach now, the pain in my left arm was only getting worse.

Taking off my shirt, I examined the damage. My stomach and chest had nice bruises I doubted would disappear anytime soon, and my left arm was starting to shiver uncontrollably. Pouring a waterskin on my arm, I immediately felt relieved, and a little while later I attached one of the two wound packets we had found in the chest. Placing the left over one in my belt pouch, I then went over and picked up the sword I had thrown and the dagger, concluding that we had done fairly well for ourselves.

Just as I thought that, my earpiece started to transmit. Hearing Blanchefleur voice was hardly soothing, since I knew full well that she wasn't going to deliver any good news.

43 participants remained, she announced, in a tone that I immediately decided was just a tad bit too cheerful. She continued, saying that while the monsters and ruffians had certainly been impressive, it was time for the strongest opponents to make their appearance. The six lords were now ready to do battle, and had entered the tournament grounds. She then wished us luck, in a way that made me smile stupidly before I realized she had just delivered us the worst bit of news so far.

I didn't need Dindrane to explain who the "Six Lords" were. Her brothers had finally entered the fight.

Without hesitating, I pulled out the map, placing it on the floor. Casting my one spell, I asked where the six lords were.

Waiting, it finally replied. Four were spread throughout the estate, and I made a mental note on the map. The other two were in each mansion. Hearing this, I asked which lord was in this mansion. I waited, tensely, before it finally replied.

"Lancelot."

>>11515823
10$ says he's riding a horse and has a lance.

20$ says he uses it alot during the fight.

More, please.

Is anyone archiving this?

Relaying this information to Dindrane, her eyes filled with dread at the mention of her oldest brother. She said that we had to leave this mansion as soon as possible. Asking her why, she explained something that made me frown so hard I thought it would be permanently etched into my face.

Lancelot was the strongest of all her brothers, being almost unmatched with a blade. While this I had expected, she continued. Each of the "Lords" had several spells already under their command, and one of them was my Detection spell.

Had I the choice, I would have gladly exploded with the force of a nuclear warhead right then, if for no better reason than to wipe this tournament off the face of the planet. Pushing that fantasy aside, I knew that out of my list of favorite things in the world, being in the same building as a magic-slinging expert swordsman who had the intent to kill me and pseudo-psychic powers was definitely nowhere near the top.

Running, we headed towards an exit, hoping nothing more than to get some distance between ourselves and Lancelot. Using my Detection spell, I determined he was in the northernmost part of the mansion, meaning our safest route was to try and go through the main entrance.

After going through the winding corridors and rooms, I was glad to finally see the enormous entrance hall. I was, however, not particularly pleased about seeing the person standing in the center of it.

>>11515856
$30 says he's played by Ioan Gruffudd

f5.jpg

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUU-

I NEED TO GET UP EARLY.

FUCK YOU OP, WRITE FASTERRRR.

The man I had nicknamed Conan looked rather pleased with himself. His gigantic sword had several splashes of the dark red liquid on it, clearly showing that he had been doing his share of fighting. Any armor and costume he had been originally wearing was reduced to nothing but a loincloth and boots, clearly showing the wound packets strapped to his massive arms and thighs.

He looked at the two of us with a silly grin, moving towards us without hesitation. Wondering what the hell I was supposed to do against this Herculean body builder, I turned towards Dindrane, my expression clearly saying that I expected her to fight him.

She looked at me with a mixed look of shock and resentment, just as I'm sure most people would give anyone who expected a sixteen-year old girl to fight against a modern day barbarian.

Conan didn't even give Dindrane a glance, staring straight at me and the giant sword on my back. With a surprising British accent, he challenged me to a duel.

Dindrane's eyes lit up.

I frowned.

I declined, but he wasn't going to just let me deny his challenge. With language peppered with odd expressions and a great deal of mention about chivalry, he explained as best as he could that I would be unable to call myself a man if I denied his challenge, and that my family would have to live in shame for the rest of their lives for my cowardice.

>>11515745
>>11515651
>book shotgun
YEAAAH

>>11515986
>he explained as best as he could that I would be unable to call myself a man if I denied his challenge, and that my family would have to live in shame for the rest of their lives for my cowardice.

SHOW ME YOUR HONOR

I'm going to sleep, and if this isn't here when I wake up, I'll be VERY upset

If someone were going to make a big-budget film about LARPing, this would be that movie.

The way its written perfectly combines this unbelievable sense that the fantasy is real with bits of actual reality intruding in a way that enhances the sense of drama, rather than breaks the suspension of disbelief.

But then again, that's largely because this story is as much about a crazy-ass rich family and their crazy-ass tricks as about fantasy. The first story broke the suspension of disbelief much more in the general feel of it, but it was largely about the LARP as a LARP, whereas this about the fantasy world on one hand and a the idea of a competition on another, without the whole roleplaying aspect really coming into it.

>>11516028
Oh jesus; I can't unsee Buff Barbarian as Kronar, Son of Man now.

I hope you're happy.

While I could have explained that I'm pretty sure my family didn't care in the slightest what I did in this fantasy tournament, and even if they did they'd cut me some slack if they looked at the situation, I knew that all I'd end up doing is ruining the mood Conan had tried so hard to set up.

Dindrane looked at me with wide-eyes, clearly as much of a medieval-maniac as the rest of her family. While I could have tried to remind her that I was probably the weakest person at this tournament, she was already lost in her fantasy world of knights and honor.

With Lancelot probably heading towards us this very moment, I didn't have the time to negotiate with either of them, and I was almost certain that it would be futile either way. Grabbing my large sword with both hands, I took up the closest thing I could to a stance, shouting that I accepted his challenge.

Gleefully, Conan rushed at me, his giant sword ready to be swung. His reach was longer than mine, and I couldn't count on him swinging his sword any slower than me. As soon as I was within range, he swung his sword like a baseball bat, and I leapt backwards, wondering whether there was even a chance for me to block it. While it was made of only foam and piping, it was probably heavy enough to break my bones if I wasn't careful.

He didn't stop, swinging with speed unfitting of such a massive weapon, and I could only keep moving back, knowing that I was at least faster in regards to footwork.

I tried to move in circles around him, but he was in complete control. If things kept going his way, he'd end up pinning me against a wall, where I'd undoubtedly end up getting killed. Needing a desperate gamble, I decided to see if I could block one of his strikes.

>>11516065
BLOOD AND THUNDER

>>11516028

>the way this fight is currently going.

NO, YOUR OTHER HONOR.

>>11516069
>I decided to see if I could block one of his strikes.
Predicting broken arms

>>11516065
Fuck you. Now I can't unsee it. Couldn't you have just kept quiet

>>11516065

Worse, Kronar with a British accent.

With one hand halfway up the back of the "blade," I braced myself for his next strike. It came faster than I had expected, but I manage to catch is sword with mine.

I shouldn't have bothered.

The force buckled my arms, knocking my sword uselessly to the side, and the blade continued into my side. My feet left the ground, and I twisted in the air as his sword hit me with all the strength he could put behind it. Falling to the ground, I managed to get myself to land painfully on my rear end, keeping my wound packets intact. Like a true gentleman, Conan spent the moment I needed to get up gloating, telling me I had no place using a sword that big if I didn't even have the strength to weild it.

As soon as I managed to get to my feet, he once again came toward me.

Thinking calmly, I had taken that blow because I thought I could defend against his attack. I had taken it because I thought I should defend against it. With our giant weapons, there was no point in trying to defend, and he knew that perfectly well. He had adapted to fighting with these weapons, and now it was my turn.

I ran backwards, fumbling with my shoulder guard. As soon as I removed it, I unfastened my pouched belt, letting it fall to the ground. Conan stopped moving forward, watching with amusement. After taking off my shirt and cloak, I took off my bracers, knowing that any armor was pointless in this battle. When I had finished, Conan simply smirked before charging at me.

As he neared, he predictably went with a wide horizontal swing. As I dodged backwards, feeling much lighter without my heavy armor and clothes, I ducked down, swinging at his front leg. My sword collided with it squarely, and I saw him stumble. Pulling my sword above my head, I prepared to strike him on the arms. I didn't realize how foolish my plan was until it was too late.

Pic related, it's the fist thing that came to mind. First when "Conan" issued the challenge, and now that our plucky protagonist is going to try and "block" some of these strikes.

>>11516144

Oh god I don't care that this isn't the real OP, you are a gentleman and a scholar.

Why is the end of every post a cliffhanger?

>>11516191

BECAUSE IT DRAWS ATTENTION.

FUCK.

>>11516137
Kronar, Son of Man with Sean Connery's voice.

CAN YOU UNHEAR/SEE IT???

OP is this actually real or is this just fiction?

Conan had taken the blow easily, and what I thought was him stumbling was in fact a slight hop that was part of his next attack. Letting his entire body spin, following his sword, he continued his initial strike all the way around him, until it slammed squarely into my exposed side.

Though it had less force than the first hit, I regretted this one far more. Beyond being knocked aside, I had completely forgotten that his blade was coated with splashes of that liquid pain. Having been hit on my bare skin, I felt as if I had just been struck by a flaming sword.

Regretting everything I had done in the last few minutes, I clutched at my side, wondering why I had bothered to take off my shirt. Realizing I was being sucked into Conan's pace, I knew that he had had the advantage this entire battle. With his last blow burning in my side, I winced as I lifted my sword. Both of us knew that even if he didn't break any of my wound packets, another blow would finish me off. With victory assured, he rushed towards me.

I don't think he noticed the change in me.

That second blow had been a wakeup call, a message I had definitely needed to receive. I knew full well that he was stronger than me. But that didn't mean I wasn't strong. I knew he'd probably practiced and trained for years, but that didn't negate all the training I had done. While he probably had far more of an advantage than I had in this battle, it didn't mean I couldn't find some of my own.

>>11516223
I can see it so hard it's pulsing

(captcha: the Briggette)

>>11516240

It's an unofficial ending, did you not see the thread title?

Fucking illiterates.

As he rushed forward, I ran forward myself, with both of us preparing for a full speed crash. However, I wasn't going to wait until I was in his range. Throwing my sword forward, I watched as he did something he clearly should not have done. He blocked, his giant sword obscuring his field of vision.

Both of us still running at each other, I leapt into the air, twisting slightly to the side. Ignoring the pain in my abdomen, I planted both of my feet at the base of his sword, slamming into him with all of my weight.

The blow took him by surprise, and his own sword slammed into him, knocking him backwards. Landing somewhat awkwardly, I didn't want to give him the chance to recover. I ran forward again, hoping that he had received a good dosage of the liquid pain from his blade. He managed to drop his sword, revealing both his chest and face with a fair amount of the red liquid, but it probably would have been better for him to have kept it raised. I leapt again, kicking him squarely in the stomach, and this time he fell over onto his back. Not even bothering to wait and see if the packet on his back had broken, I rushed over to him. Ignoring the proper gentlemanly act of letting him stand, I stomped down on his heart, watching as the black liquid poured out.

He screamed, yelling with what I could only call unbridled rage. I jumped away from him as he grabbed at my leg, and I kept moving backwards as he scrambled to get up. He seemed intent on killing me, and I don't mean within this fantasy world.

Ignoring his weapon, he ran at me, intending to beat me with his bare hands. I tried to keep my distance, but even though the room was large, I quickly found myself out of space. Rushing between us, Dindrane threw out her hands, yelling at Conan to stop, that he had lost.

Conan back-handed her, a blow that knocked her to the ground.

>>11516340

MOTHERFUCKER.

SHIT'S GOING DOWN.

>>11516240

Fictional. This entire story is fictional. Just good fiction.

By Moradin's hairy testes, how much longer will this tale take?

Because seriously, some of us have shit to do in the morning, should I hang out for the end, or go to bed and hope it's still here in the morning?

Enter Lancelot.

>>11516340

Meh, it was good up until this point

Went a bit overboard here

>>11516372

I've decided not to sleep so I can catch the ending.

Knowing that I should have been angry, I was too busy trying to think of a way out of this situation. Luckily, I didn't need to get angry.

Lancelot got angry for me.

A man probably in his early thirties, he stood above us, looking for all the world as a picturesque knight. I never knew that a person wearing armor could move so fast. He sprinted down the grand staircase, his sword raised, looking absolutely furious. Conan only noticed him when it was far too late, when he was already within Lancelot's range. His sword slammed into the back of his head, with a sound that could have been mistaken for a thunderclap.

Conan reeled, but didn't fall, something that probably would have been wiser to do. Lancelot slammed his sword again and again into Conan's head, until the giant man simply slumped to the ground. With that finished, he turned to the two of us, his anger quickly dissipating.

Dindrane, holding her cheek as she stood up, looked terrified.

Realizing that this was the end of the tournament for me, I was surprisingly calm, only now wondering why I had ever thought going to a mysterious tournament was a good idea.

Lancelot stepped forward, and the gently patted his younger sister on the head.

>>11516372
You can catch it on the archives tomorrow morning. If not, order some copypasta tomorrow night.

>>11516340
DAYMN NIGA SHIT IS GOING TO GO DOWN.

KRONAR GONNA GET THE HURT ON HIS BITCH ASS.

>>11516403
I'm going to assume roid rage to help me keep going. These people are a bunch of eccentric rich kids after all, regardless of the training and medieval obsession.

>>11516471

Wouldnt you be MAD AS HELL if that happens?

Some upstart little punk kicks you, the accomplished champion on the ground, especially after you let him stand up.

She looked confused, but Lancelot quickly smoothed that away, telling her that he still had full plans of eliminating her from the tournament. However, it seemed unfair, he said in his almost too pleasant voice, that we would lose now only because we had been delayed by a rule breaker.

Smiling, he said that he'd wait five minutes, which seemed just long enough for me to put my clothes back on and have a bit of a head start. Without even trying to pretend I wasn't afraid of him, I scrambled to gather my clothes and put them back on, Dindrane trying to assist me but only getting in the way.

As soon as we finished, we ran out the mansion, with no plan other than to try and get as much distance between Lancelot and us as we could. Running out to meet us came Belvedere, his false fangs reattached and fury in his eyes.

With an unarmed fake vampire who was really an acting teacher in front of us and possibly the most intimidating man I had ever met in my life behind us, it was a fairly easy choice where to run. Going straight towards him, I wondered how in the hells I had let his invincibility intimidate me at all. With sword in hand, I slammed it straight into his face, using the momentum of my run to put as much force into it as I could. His head whipped back, and he dropped, clutching his face. The two of us kept running, unconcerned with his fate.

We kept running until Dindrane had to stop, gasping for air. Rather than trying to coax her into running again, I took the short break to cast Detection, asking what was around us. There was a small group to the south, and without bothering to ask for more details about it, I asked where the Lords were.

>>11516512
At my LARP, I got kicked in the ass (literally) by one of the other players while I was NPCing because he was pissed at getting killed during a boss battle. I've gotten cracked on the head by the same guy with a weapon not approved for LARPing (he was using it by GM approval as a spell focus). This doesn't seem too far off.

>>11516512

>challenging an already wounded man to a fucking duel.

YEAH THIS WORKS.

>>11516512
I wouldn't let him stand up if we were competing for 25,000

>>11516512
>>11516471

Just the way op was describing it was a bit over the top with the main character "twisting through the air" and what not seemed a bit over the top, but that's just my opinion about that one part, the story as a whole is fantastic :)

>>11516446

Might you know the address for this particular archive? Cause I downright suck at finding stuff, I'm not ashamed to admit.

If I ever LARP, I am going dressed as this.

They were still fairly spread out, acting according to their whims. If they were even half as strong as Lancelot, I was certain that many of the participants had been eliminated already. With a sudden realization, I asked how many participants there were within the estate.

Only 19 remained. Including me, Dindrane, and the six Lords, that left eleven others. I asked where Vlaine was, and was glad to see he was alive, though he was still in Darkhold keep. Out of curiosity, I asked where Jim was. It asked for a last name. I asked where all the Jims were.

No Jims were left in the tournament.

Hearing he was dead was somewhat depressing, which I had not expected. I realized now that even though he had been flighty, he had been our comrade, even if for only a short while. As I told Dindrane all this, she smiled, telling me that if we stayed alive for the next hour, we might make it all the way to the top ten.

It was strange. It wasn't until she said that, a few words that she probably thought had little meaning, that I realized something I should have realized long ago. I had thought that I was the weakest person here because I was here only because of Vlaine's recommendation. I thought losing to Dindrane only solidified that fact. After that fight, I had been intimidated, even frightened, by everyone that we had met.

But here I was, having fought all day, and I was still alive. While I knew that a large part of that had been thanks to Dindrane, I still had done my share, if not more. I was not weak by any standard, and I couldn't keep placing myself behind Dindrane. During our first fight, I had been using a large weapon in close quarters, a clear disadvantage, and the result of that battle only filled me with frustration.

>>11516571
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/

(my captcha = ridicules might... I find this to be a fitting phrase for this story.)

shit sucks

>>11516571

http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html

Under "The Most Dangerous LARP".

(Captcha: come tricycles - of course, this is part three.)

>>11516543

It wasnt about the prize. Its about the girl and his hobby, a guy like that must've been really, really invested in that hobby.

>>11516583

THIS IS YOU ON THE RIGHT.

>>11516583
Beaten to the punch.

Seeing that Dindrane had recovered enough to run again, I suddenly felt a purely selfish desire. Even knowing that it could potentially make us lose this whole tournament, I needed to do it. Turning towards Dindrane, I challenged her.

She heard the seriousness in my voice and saw it in my eyes, but even so she asked if I was sure. Telling her that I needed to know how strong I was was all the answer she needed.

She moved a bit of a distance away from me, readying her sword. Taking out my longsword, a close match to hers, I simply said that the first person to land a strike would win. Without needing another word, she rushed at me.

As she attacked, time stopped for me.

I knew this attack. The entire day I had watched her fight, her moves imbedded into my mind. I had seen her attacks so many times, I felt almost as if they were my own. I had been amazed by her swordplay, but only now did I realize that I had grown far past being awed by it. I understood it. I knew I could block it in time, as her strike was not even as fast as Conan's. I knew there was no reason to be afraid of it, to be intimidated by it.

I stepped backwards, letting her first assault pass harmlessly in front of me. She struck again, faster this time, and I once again appreciated her speed and skill. Without a doubt she handled her blade far better than I did, and in a straight contest of swords I knew she'd win every time.

Rather than stepping back, I blocked and stepped forward as quickly as I could. She had expected for me to retreat, and as she moved forward we came far too close to swing a sword. Even so, she tried to pull back, startled by the sudden closeness, but I simply outstretched my hand, grabbing her shoulder gently.

>>11516638
Dem wenches man
DEM WENCHES

lol, the main character pretty much fights by throwing things, including himself, at the other guy.

>>11516672

>>11516672
Waiting for teh sexxorz

and Eckstein, my captcha would like to add.

*bow chicka bow wow* ohhhh yeaaaaaah

>>11516672
inb4 tongue wrestling

>>11516637
Not a big enough nose. He should be freakin' Cyrano de Bergerac

Thread Music: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gTw2YvutJRA

of outruns, which is quite fitting.

The contest over, we stood silently. Though it wasn't conclusive, it told me what I needed to know. I could fight, perhaps not evenly, but I could fight against Dindrane with a chance to win.

And if I had a chance against her, I had a chance against her brothers.

We headed north, avoiding the group to the south. I kept casting Detection, trying to keep us away from the monsters and remaining participants, while prioritizing keeping our distance from the Lords. A half an hour passed without incident, except that I noticed that two of the Lords were definitely heading in our direction. As we changed direction, they did as well, and it became clear they were following us. Checking their names, I saw that Lancelot and Caradoc were trying to catch us.

While checking, I heard great news. Bors and Tristan had fallen, leaving only four Lords and seven players left. While this was good news, bad news was quickly coming our way. Caradoc and Lancelot were quickly closing in on us, and it seemed like the groups of monsters were likewise all gathering around us. It wouldn't be long before we'd be unable to keep avoiding fights, and I wondered whether we'd be able to survive an encounter with any of the groups around us.

Casting Detection as we moved, I learned that while four Lords remained, only three other players were left.

And that we no longer had a direction we could travel.

Fictional of course. Different author, I reckon, considering the protagonist's fondness of two-handed swords.

Great story, nonetheless.

>critique Sqyuz

>>11516751

>An Unofficial Sequel, Complete Anonymous 08/03/10(Tue)22:18 No.11513921

>Unofficial sequel.

It's been stated that many times, you fucking Captain Obvious' keep popping out of the woodwork.

>>11516747
BUT WHAT ABOUT VLAINE

We headed North anyway, until we could clearly see a man in shining armor marching towards us. Besides him, I was surpised to see Vlaine and one other person, who I didn't know. Realizing that the man in armor must be Caradoc, I felt like it was time to see if I stood a chance against any of the Lords.

Out of the woods, another armor figure appeared, and from the distance it took me a while to realize it was Percival. They marched leisurely towards me, exchanging a brief greeting between themselves. Looking deep within myself, I realized I didn't feel like finding out if I stood a chance against two Lords.

Turning back the way I came, I was rather dissappointed to see a small hoard of monsters heading in my direction, to say the least. There must have been ten of them, all running towards us. Realizing that there was no way out of this, I looked towards Dindrane, noticing she shared my same defeated expression.

The nobles continued their leisurely pace, while the monsters quickly reached us. My sword out and ready, I prepared myself as a person dressed like some hideos giant insect reached us first. Seeing that he moved much faster than the rest, I wondered if I even stood a chance against him

He stopped right in front of me, his odd mask obscuring his expression, until he simply shouted "Ignore them!"

It wasn't until he dashed past me that I recognized the way he moved. The dagger-wielder I had defeated before, for some reason or another, was leading the rest of the monsters right past us. A few gave us strange looks, but marched right past us, heading towards the Lords.

>>11516808

Vlaine is a faggot and should have stuck with the protagonist from the start.

>>11516808

Probably still in Darkhold Keep, fappin till the plot needs him.

(captcha: judgement Baterman. Aha! I knew it.)

>>11516823

How was he supposed to stay with our protagonist when they were separated before the event started?

>>11516823
>>11516816
Vlaine confirmed for showing his other honor to Caradoc.

BLOOD AND THUNDER

>>11516862
VICTORY AT SEA

can someone link to the original?

>>11516858

HE COULD HAVE TRIIIIIED.

Dindrane simply looked on in amazement, not realizing who the bug had been. Not even sure if telling her who it was would confuse her even more, we continued in that direction, not even bothering to watch as the monsters began to battle against the Lords. After going a bit further, I almost stumbled right into a man dressed as an oversized goblin. He looked at me menacingly for a second, but then, in a familiar voice, shouted for us to get out of his way.

Jim, dressed as a Goblin, began to launch his arrows. They sailed through the air, aimed at the lords, and I once again was reminded of Jim's amazing skill with the bow. Even so, it didn't look like the two Lords were slowing down at all, dropping monster after monster.

Vlaine and the other person were neither as lucky nor skilled. While Vlaine fought hard, taking down two monsters, a third had snuck around him. The other was taken down with barely a fight. I could only express the tiniest moment of grief for my fallen friend, because I knew full well that this was only the beginning of the groups colliding together.

Dindrane and I continued on, thanking Jim, trying to get as far away from the battle that was almost over. The two Lords finished killing the monsters, and while Caradoc stayed behind to look after his fallen entourage, Percival was heading our way. As he moved towards us, a third Lord appeared, along with a man carrying a spear, and all I could tell was that it wasn't Lancelot. Soon all three Lords and the last participant were making their way towards us. Apparently, they wanted to eliminate us first before they settled their own fights.

Suddenly, we heard drums. Drums came from all around us, first from the left, and then from the right. Soon the air was filled with the sound of war drums and shouting, and I wondered what kind of special magical powers the Lords could have to withstand an onslaught of what sounded like an entire army of monsters.

>>11516816
Here comes the intercept made by Randy Moss, followed by a brilliant play by Brady...

>>11516896
AWWWWW SHIT NIGGA IT JUST GOT REAL MOTHAFUCKA

>>11516896
the drums of war beat again

>>11516926
You say that after every post

>>11516953

It keeps getting realer.

Apparently, none.

Grabbing Dindrane, I unceremoniously dove into a clump of bushes, as well over a hundred monsters moved their way towards the Lords. While I'm sure some spotted us, they ignored us, marching straight at the band of four men. Soon, the Lords were surrounded, and I couldn't help but watch as they battled against the hoard. I was awed, even though I knew they had some special advantage, as they soon were surrounded by piles and piles of fallen monsters.

Eventually, the man with the spear fell, leaving only the three Lords. Even among the drums and the shouts of the monsters, we could hear their shouts, nothing but mottos about honor and valor. But, eventually, Percival fell, and the other two were quickly enveloped by the hoard.

The monsters, having finished off the Lords, simply stood around. They watched as the four men picked themselves up, trudging away in the direction of the first mansion. The monsters seemed confused, and even I wondered what was the point of having killed those Lords. That was, until I remembered there was still one left.

As soon as the three other Lords had disappeared a good distance away, Lancelot rode down on a pure white horse. With a simple hand motion, the monsters dispersed, and I could only look on in shock at what had happened. Lancelot, looking quite pleased with finishing off his brothers without even having to take them down himself, began to mutter to himself, and I realized he must be casting a spell, requesting information. There was brief look of surprise on his face, followed by more muttering. Then, with eyes only a devil could possess, he looked directly towards where Dindrane and I had poorly hidden ourselves.

shit-just-got-real.hta

>captcha: loveless poisson:

NIGGER POST ANOTHER

>>11516884
see
>>11515367

>>11516998

That poor fish. ;_;

He's already had his Neo moment. They all stand no chance.

>>11516976

OH SNAP, YO

Captcha:

Mustapha have

I mustapha have more!

>>11516884

Original story:

http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/11295346/

>>11516976
nice...lancelot won the whole thing and they were like lol no :3

>>11516976

SO NEAR THE END.

SO NEAR.

IF PROTAG DOES NOT MARRY DINDRANE I WILL SHIT A BRICK.

Wait a second. I mean, it wouldn't really matter, given their level of skill, but isn't the whole setup with the Lords grossly unfair to the other players?

They start out with a shitload of gear, and they get to start later. That's pretty significant.

After galloping towards us, he stopped a fair distance away, in an almost polite way of telling us to stop hiding. We emerged from the bush, certain that we both looked as terrified as we were. He dismounted, and walked towards us, congratulating Dindrane on having gotten so far, to the point where she had managed to outlast her other brothers. He quickly added that it was mostly because of an oversight on his part, but at least now she had a chance at victory.

My mind racing to come up with a plan, I knew that the next few seconds were critical. Everything that we had done so far was culminating in these final moments, and we couldn't be rash. We had to make sure that every one of our actions counted. Trying my hardest, I attempted to convey these thoughts to Dindrane through telepathy.

Whatever message she received, it was the wrong one. She ran forward, her sword prepared to strike.

Knowing full well that Lancelot would easily block such an attack, I shouted at her to stop. Lancelot looked at her with amusement, until I distinctly heard her say "I cast magic Cacophony, within ten feet."

He immediately winced, as sound loud enough for me to hear pounded against his ear drums. With Lancelot momentarily distracted, Dindrane had her chance. Lancelot quickly stole it from.

>>11517055
I'm still waiting for the moment they start makin' love to each other.

>>11517055
If he marries her, then there can't be a sequel to the sequel. Look at the Karate Kid series... sure he gets the girl temporarily, but he's got to lose her so he can have a love interest in the next one.

>>11517043

Of all the times not to have a fire spell.

>>11517078

I DON'T WANT ANOTHER LOVE-INTEREST.

I WANT THIS TO END WITH PASSIONATE FUCKING AND MARRIAGE.

I think it was too fast paced, I wouldnt minded some extra action, meeting with more players, more spells and shit.

It seems rushed since the mansion.

>>11516059
> If someone were going to make a big-budget film about LARPing
Oh, noone told you?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WENre45f13c

>>11517100

No, this should end with the main character winning, and then marrying off whatshername to Dindrane, just to fuck with everyone.

>>11517134
huh, when's it out?

>>11517145

You mean fucking the shit out of Dindrane

captcha: its exercised

I's imagine it would be :P

>>11517145
Maybe he could marry both, and there could be a nice three-way scene?

WHERE IS THE REST

I DON'T KNOW BUT IT'S BEEN 10 MINUTES

IT WAS 5 MINUTES ALL THE WAY THROUGH

>>11517235

THIS GUY SPEAKS TRUTH, THE LAST BIT OF THE STORY. WHERE IS IT.

>>11517070
>Lancelot quickly stole it from.

THAT MOTHERFUCKER STOLE THE END OF THE SENTENCE.

FUCKING HAX, YO.

OP confirmed for dick.

>>11517257
>>11517249
BROTHERS WE MUST CONTINUE IN ALL CAPS OR OUR LITANYS WILL NOT BE HEARD BY OP

greatest troll ever....just stop. No gloating just stop. YOU BETTER NOT YOU TRICKY BASTARD

Captcha:ends unfair
amen

Simply uttering the word "Cancel," the sound stopped. Dindrane rather than continuing her attack strongly, was too surprised to see her trump card so easily defeated. Lancelot managed to react in time, blocking her attack and returning a strike instantaneously. He hit his sisters right arm with the same thunderclap force he had hit Conan's head, rupturing the wound packet with force to spare. She cried out, dropping her sword, allowing her brother to slam his blade in to her other side, and then to each of her legs.

She dropped to the ground, all of her limbs disabled, and I realized that it was my turn.

He didn't know who I was. To him, I was just a miscalculation, a temporary delay before he crowned himself champion of his own tournament. His arrogance and pride seething out of him, I felt my rational dislike of this man combine with an irrational hatred. Even if he had just defeated his sister in a matter of seconds, I at least now had the confidence that I could at least do a little better.

That confidence meant nothing. Far from finishing me off quickly and easily, he struck at my hands, each blow making me wonder if he had broken any of my fingers. He then would carefully strike me in the forehead, each hit knocking my head backwards, until I felt a bit of blood drip down into my eyebrow. He apologized, lacking any sense of sincerity, and then as an afterthought pointed out that I hadn't managed to land a single blow on him.

Hoping that my frown would encourage him to toy with me, my mind raced, desperately seeking a plan. With the first thought being to just figure out a way to get more time to think, I quickly cast that aside, dedicating my brain to figure out a way to end this now. Looking around with a hope to find anything to my advantage, I knew that it was hopeless.

Until Dindrane provided me with a chance.

>>11517270
He didn't just steal the rest of the sentence.

HE STOLE THE REST OF THE STORY.

SON OF A BITCH.

>>11517296
HOLY SHIT

>>11517296

GODDAMNIT CLIFFHANGEEEERRS.

>>11517134

Fuck. After reading OP's LARP adventures this movie trailer actually looks real cool. Damn you OP for giving me the thought that LARPs might be sort of cool!

LIGHTNING BOLT! LIGHTNING BOLT! LIGHTNING BOLT! LIGHTNING BOLT! LIGHTNING BOLT! LIGHTNING BOLT! LIGHTNING BOLT! LIGHTNING BOLT! LIGHTNING BOLT! LIGHTNING BOLT! LIGHTNING BOLT! LIGHTNING BOLT!

Ok that's better, LARPs is back to lame... until I read the ending of this story......

>>11517296
I was going to say something but capcha said it better: depressing bounding

As Lancelot lazily prepared his next strike, I just manage to hear Dindrane mutter the spell. Noise erupting in his ear, he monetarily turned to look down at Dindrane. Not wanting to waste my attack, I leapt forward, aiming for his right arm with my long sword.

It hit.

The smell of vinegar and the red liquid poured from his arm, and I felt a fleeting moment of victory. It disappeared all too quickly, as Lancelot furiously shouted "CANCEL!"

The music stopping, he switched his sword to his left hand, and began to strike me with the same speed and skill as he had with his right. This time, however, he was rather angry. I took three blows to my head before I even realized what happened, before he slammed the blade into my right arm with force harder than I had seen him hit anyone yet. I yelled in pain, realizing the strike had broken my skin and the red liquid was pouring into the wound. The pain was unbearable, far worse than I had expected, and I doubted I'd ever feel another pain like it. Blinking back tears, I could just see Lancelot, smiling a hate-filled smile.

>>11517134
Guess where that movie was shot.

The Larp I go to, Bicolline. It's more like a live action wargame, though. Youtube ''BicoTv''.

>Awesome LARPs everywhere
>I live in California
>Awesome Amtgard LARPs nowhere.

I knew now that I had no chance. My dominant arm gone, and Mr. Perfect being goddamn bloody ambidextrous, any slight chance I had disappeared as soon as my wound packet broke. Thinking hard, I considered whether or not it was possible to run away and fix my arm with the extra wound packet in me belt pouch. A plan forming in my head, I pulled the packet out, staring hard at Lancelot.

I ran forward. I thought for a moment he knew what my plan was, as he moved his sword to strike my left arm. Expecting the blow, I shoved the packet into my mouth, holding it firmly with my teeth. He struck my left arm hard, but I didn't slow my charge at all. I slammed into him, my arms flailing uselessly, pushing him to the ground with me on top of him. As he fell, his eyes opened wide, perhaps guessing what I planned to do.

I bit down on the packet.

Perhaps the worst mistake of my life.

A terrible sour flavor, stronger than anything I had ever tasted, flooded my mouth as the bag burst. The God of Courtesy himself must have aided me, preventing me from vomitting all over Lancelot. But, no god could prevent the liquid pain to splash all over his face.

He thankfully closed his eyes, as I'd never wish that kind of torture on anyone. Instead, it fell into his open mouth and splashed against his nose. As bad as it had been for me, it must have been ten times worse for Lancelot, who let out a high pitched garbled scream as it burned down his throat.

>>11517510

FUCKING LEGENDARY.

GO MAN GO.

>>11517510
MWA...HAHA.....MWAHAHAHHAHAHHA
Magnificent.

she still can cast defy death if she's killed 10 people, how many has she killed?

>>11517510
dear god

>>11517510

So pretty much the main character has won all his fights by just bumrushing people

You clever bastard.

>>11517541

It's a legit strategy, man.

>>11517510
GET THIS MAN A FUCKING TANKER OF KOOL-AID

It's a fake story though. Title says unofficial sequel. This isn't even the same guy. It's a fapfic for a mary sue.

"computer blaming"

Damnit captcha, stop having sentience.

It's almost 8 AM. I planned to get some sleep hours ago. Thanks OP and OP2, you broke my F5 key and my mind

>>11517541
Basically, yeah. That and providing distractions while the teenage girl kills his opponents.

>>11517587

Dealwithit.jpg

THIS IS SO AWESOME I JUST CAME WITH THE POWER OF A THOUSAND SUNS

>>11517587
Ya know. If you actually read the story you will notice there is no martysueige.
if it was a mary sue he would hace just steamrolled everything.

>>11517587
It's not a Mary Sue. People hate him. He's not flowers and bunnies and everyone loves him and the villains surrender. He's just a hero. Of course he's going to win; he's an action hero like... like Rambo. He's like Harry Potter plus Rambo. God, learn the definition of the terms you use before you spew them everywhere.

>>11517134
If this movie includes somebody grabbing a pistol out of their car and yelling "Lightning Bolt" each time they shoot a Lord-of-the-Flies-wannabe, I'll considering paying to see it in a theater.

>>11517613
they do magically get a lot of helpful items all the time though. Blood packs everywhere, spells, book shotgun etc

>>11517617
This is /tg, everything is a weeaboo mary sue anime kid fapfic here.

captch:about tonight

let us never speak of it again

>>11517628
>Lord of the Flies
What now?

>>11517630

Yeah, seriously. What are the fucking odds that you'd find some books just /lying around/ in a fucking library?

>>11517608
You will be missed, anonymous.

where is the rest??

>>11517673

That math is so wrong it's not even funny, but yeah, a thousand suns is certainly going to do *something* impressive.

This guy reminds me alot of Agrus Kos.

Also, >lordship measured

I.

NEED.

THE.

ENDING.

>>11517673
I think they missed the relativistic terms in that calculation. Still, awesome.

>>11517667
what are the odds that a library is not sealed off, and that the treasure chest is placed in a library, of all things in a big-ass mansion?

Struggling to stand as I watched him clutch at his face with his left hand, I did what any good, kindly person would do. I stomped down on his chest plate, again and again, hoping for all the world that I could break one of his black packets in this manner. As he struggled to get up, I stomped down on his arms and legs, making sure the packets were completely broken, before returning to my assault on his chest.

Finally, he shouted "It's broken! It's broken! You win! GODDAMNIT!"

I apologized halfheartedly, wiping the blood off my brow and taking a nice long drink from a waterskin. As he got up, I moved towards Dindrane, who was still lying on the ground, disabled.

I asked her if she was still alive. She nodded. Smiling, I flashed her a thumbs up, before burying my thumb into my heart.

>>11517742

Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay

>>11517742
wat

>>11517742
FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF
FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF
FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

>>11517742

YES.

GODDAMN.

>>11517742
NOBLE END

>>11517742
What, you didn't use your Detection spell to make sure everyone else was actually eliminated first? Very sloppy, that.

I get the feeling that it isn't over just yet

>>11517742
Loli trolled.

captcha completely awesome!
>came erection

Flawless Victory!

He should have dicked her over for manipulating him.
capcha: asunder her.
capcha thinks she should be raped, I'm undecided on this.

>>11517656
Going by the trailer, that's pretty much what it looks like... LARPer goes power-mad, takes at least some of his crew with him on a real rape/pillage/murder spree.

So, yeah, seeing somebody fight back with a 9mm or .45 "Lightning Bolt" would make my day.

>>11517742

Looks like someone is just trying to wrap this up....

>>11517788
I'm pretty sure that he already knew that they were the only three left.

>>11517807
The druid puts drugs in his horde's good, they go on a killing and raping spree.

I am disappoint that this is a fake author.

>The Fradus... How sort of relevant.

>>11517742
AND THEN WE FUCKED. RIGHT THERE. IN FRONT OF EVERYONE. IT WAS AWSOME.

>>11517742

If this is op I'm pissed

>>11517836
BUT IF HE JUST KILLED HER...

captcha: predicts dyker. Op's a chick?

OH GOD FINISH IT FINISH IT FINISH IT

their pomposity. Fuck year!

My earpiece sparked alive, telling me I was dead, and directing me to go towards the first mansion. I ignored it, extending a hand to Dindrane. She took it, and I helped her up. She looked at me with honest eyes of admiration, and I did what any hero who had conquered a tournament for a woman would do.

I asked her when I could expect my money.

As the tournament concluded, there was an elaborate ceremony, celebrating Dindrane as the champion. Everyone looked rather disgruntled at losing to a sixteen-year old girl, but perhaps the unhappiest people were the rest of the Hunting Dog family. Dindrane had told the other brothers that the monster attack had not been just an "unfortunate coincidence," and Lancelot seemed unable to enjoy any of his food or drink. Blanchefleur, however seemed the most disappointed, being unable to find a perfect knight who would win a tournament for her. She, however, was consoled by her sister, who was seemed genuinely glad to have ruined the rest of her family's plans.

During the ceremonies, I spoke with Jim and Vlaine, as well as the dagger-wielder. While they were somewhat displeased with the outcome, it didn't seem like any of them had been really trying for anything but the money. And since money meant nothing to these rich bastards, I didn't really care too much about their feelings, knowing they'd recover within a few days.

After the ceremonies, as I got ready to enter the car that would drive me home, Dindrane called out to me.

the story went downhill and hurried from the mansion

>>11517903
"you're never getting any money"

>>11517937

"defy death"

>>11517903
ok now *bow chicka bow wow* OOOO BABY.....

FUCKING END IT AND LET ME SLEEP GODDAMNIT

>>11517903

"Nobody leaves the grounds alive."

*Raises gun*

"Lightning Bolt"

>>11517953

THIS

>>11517953
Seriously.

>>11517971

oh god hilarious

fuck man

How could you introduce as big a Chekhov's Gun as the spell of defy death and not use it?

You're a literary failure, OP.

>>11517943
Shh... you're ruining it! (Chekhov's gun ftw.)

>>11518009

what? why should he have to jeez? and maybe he already has, maybe OP actually got knocked out and the whole thing with the blood packet was imagined while Disdraine was busy killing her own brother and in the end TOURNAMENT WAS DREAM

>>11517971

Well done Anon! Well done, that turned my late night "I WANT TO GO TO BED, RRAAAAAAAGGGGGGE" into laughter.

>>11517971

Made me lol hard

>>11517971

In case it wasn't glaringly obvious, that's not the actual ending.

Just saying.

Now if I do end up seeing that crazy LARP movie I'm going to think of this thread because of you>>11517971

Soooo, where's the last part of the story OP?

Looking at me nervously, she thanked me for all the help I had given her. I tried to tell her that she had just been the best way for me to make sure I got the money, but she cut me off, asking me why I had to lie to her.

Looking at her honestly, I told her it was much too soon for me to say that I loved her.

Tears welling up in her eyes, she asked me why it had to be too soon. She asked if it was her age. She asked if it was because we had only known each other for a day.

I told her it was because I didn't know how I felt. All I knew was that I wanted to get the money, and put this whole ordeal behind me. Leaning in close to me, she asked if that was all I wanted to do.

She stared at me, waiting, until she closed her eyes.

Putting my hand on her shoulder, I told her she was a nice kid, and that my number was listed.

Stepping into the car without bothering to see her disappointed face, I told the driver to start driving. He looked at me blankly, not saying a word. Dindrane tapped her hand on my window, and I pressed the button to lower it. Bending her head down, she told me that the drivers only left on her family's orders.

Sighing, I placed my hand against her face, guiding it downwards. Kissing her gently, I asked if it would be alright for me to go home.

She blushed deeply, before silently nodding. Without another word, the driver started the engine, and I began the long drive home.

THE END

>>11518095

Y..

Y...

YES!

Finally. Nice story. I enjoyed it.

Should be any second now... not a bad tale, by the way, OP. I look forward to more in the future.
>Hoped the

>>11518095
...

Well, time for sleep now.

>>11518095
OP, I am amused. Thank you for making my night more interesting.

How old is the OP supposed to be?

>>11518095
*applause* pretty damn good....alright night everybody.IM DONE WITH THIS SHIT.
Captcha: visuals by
...what the fuck their wasnt any visuals it was a story...stupid ass captcha

It would have been better if our Protaganist went full on Bastard and killed the girl, got his money, told the older sister to fuck off, and went on a rant about how they wasted all their money on a bunch of bullshit.

>>11518095
Gets money Y/N?

...Dindrane actually marries sister Y/N?

good story OP, now I can finally rest...

>>11518112
Quite.

OP, seriously, write more fiction. You're quite good at it.

OP, you have kept me up much too late with this tale, and for that I applaud you.

>>11518095
Not bad, i think it would have been cooler if the girl used the revive spell on him after he killed himself and then took her own life, and then later on he refuses blanchefleur and that stuff happens.

GOODNIGHT FINALLY!!!!!

Got to hedge maze. Skipped to end. I got enough of it.

Total crap.

"talkative stupefies" you go, captcha

>>11518095

This can't be OP. It seems to be written completely differently. Many short paragraphs and it was pretty much just "END" as fast as possible.

Now, to fap, then, bedtime.

Never read LARP fiction before, was quite entertained

good job you OP you

but... but.... what about the money?

Very nice ending, and overall a great story. Thanks, OP. Write again soon!

Will there be a 3rd LARP for our hero?

>>11518142
She said she didn't really want to marry her, and also, the winner got to choose her sister's husband... but it never said when she had to choose.

>>11518159
WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!
NOW I CAN'T SLEEP UNTIL REAL OP (assuming that wasn't the real end) FINISHES THE DAMN STORY!
FUCK YOU!

>>11518159

Dude, when he started I don't think he was planning to get this far, eventually he was just rushing to keep going, like a DM who's just making stuff up on the fly because the players don't want to stop playing.

>>11518181

LARP... IN SPACE

also, 18181

>>11518191

Well hey, I can't be the only one watching this thread like a hawk for the next 20 minutes.

>>11518169

detaiiils brooooo

in truth, she actually transferred it into his mouth in a tiny capsule, which he swallowed. He'll get the money later.

Hmm... while the original story was more realistic, this one was more BADASS and MANLY and EXTREME.

I don't know whether to tell you to lay off the Mountain Dew, or to drink more.

>>11518191

That's the real OP. It's a good end to the story, and nobody has tried to fuck with everyone up to this point.

This was pretty good. Well done, OP.
Now for sleep.

>>11518225

So the revive spell was not mentioned at all? OP should have at least thrown that into that sentence of the story to make the reader go "ohhh right, dawwww" or something like that.

>>11518256
A slight blemish. Nobody's perfect.

This is my new favorite board.

Ok so I read the last part again, and yes I agree with you other anons now, that is the OP. It just appears (like was suggested earlier) that the OP rushed it. I understand completely, sometimes you just have deadlines whether real or imagined, and when it gets closer to those deadlines you can get a little rushed.

I'm not really complaining though, it was a wonderful story. Just you might want a little more editing and maybe add a bit to the ending if you were to publish this on any sort of medium more official than 4chan, as it seems to drop below your almost professional-like writing that the rest of your stories seem to have.

Good job OP. I'll look forward to the next time we see you posting stories!

>>11518307

Adds to verisimilitude. Real stories are so full of inexplicable details with so much potential that never get explored in favour of the boring shit options that the only way to tell anyone anything about them is to cut them out.

>>into Friedman

Sage advice.

Y'know, he really should have invited her to Vilane's RPG group...

>>11518348

That I think would be more suited to OP's previous stories, which had you guessing if it was real or not for the first half of the story. This one broke from that trend and started off as an obvious and enjoyable work of fiction.

HOLY SHIT.

They're having a party inside of an iguanodon!

>>11518379
That would have also been a great ending, just to tie everything together. But the real one is fitting enough, and it's probably better this way - what happened at the residence, stays at the residence.

>>11518348
That's what's so appealing about this, there's just enough real-world sensibility and perspective to the obviously-not-real setting to make it really easy to put yourself there.

>>11518348

Normally I'd agree, but it's all too tempting that the OP just made Chekhov shoot himself with his own gun.

That said, it was highly enjoyable.

If I were to convert parts one and two into a movie script, would anyone be interested in shooting it Gamers style?

>>11518334

Welcome aboard!

Though I must say, summer /tg/ isn't as good. Threads like this used to happen every day last winter.

>objectives Fernand

After a while the captcha gets kinda zen....

Now he can enjoy his limbless girlfriend.

Hey.. she lost all her limbs in the final fight.

>>11518767
That girl still has a limb...

>you're finery
No, YOU'RE finery!

best read ever

I am so losing weight just to start LARPing

>>11518786
Oh.. that's true.

HERE WE GO. Perfect image. Happy end!

That was neat, but how old is protagonist?

I'm hoping no older than 20

This was simply wonderful. Worth missing all my sleep over.

I demand more from the OP or from some other writefag.