Fell Champions

The Rules



Holt let his words hang in the air, reveling in the attention. Maybe some people were giving it, but Otter and Rua both were far more enthralled by Pandemona. It wasn’t that she was particularly attractive – she was, but that wasn’t hard to do in a video game where you could design your appearance to suit your fantasy – but more from the tension in the air due to Otter’s ‘game.’ 

 

Pandemona looked equal parts aroused and terrified, and it was a mix that both excited Otter, and also made her feel a little bad. But then her vindictive side reared its ugly head, and that feeling soon dissipated. 

 

Holt was talking again, probably about something he thought was deadly important, but Rua was tugging on the front of Pandemona’s smock.

 

“Tell me why I’m pretty.”

 

Pandemona stammered, “We should probably be paying attention to–”

 

“The words of that man are trivial to this. You made an agreement, now pay, or I’ll find some other way to extract my compensation.”

 

She drummed one hand on Pandemona’s knee, before slowly working it under the hem of her smock.

 

Had Rua always been this forward? Or was it just Otter’s influence? She’d had a shell before, a protective layer, but that was proving to have been extremely brittle. Otter didn’t know the type of abuse Rua had suffered in the past, but she knew it was there from their link. And while Rua had weathered it and survived, now that she’d been exposed to genuine affection, those defences had shattered. 

 

“Uhm,” Pandemona said. “I, uhm…”

 

Rua very casually raised her hand a little forward, gently stroking at Pandemona’s thigh.

 

“Your eyes. They’re pretty. I like your eyes.”

 

And just like that, Rua withdrew her hand, her face a serious mask. “So it’s not just you. Do all your kind find these eyes attractive?”

 

“Can’t speak for everyone,” Otter said. “But I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful pair.”

 

“Do I get another question now?” Pandemona asked.

 

“No,” Rua said. “Your important person is speaking.”

 

Otter nodded along. “Yeah, Holt’s talking. It’s rude to be ignoring him.”

 

Otter turned to face the screen, and found that Holt was, in fact, not currently talking, but looking directly at them. He had that look most of Otter’s teachers adopted whenever she was caught goofing off in class back in high school. Which had been all the time.

 

“Are you done?” he asked. 

 

“Yep! You may continue, you have my permission.”

 

Holt’s expression warred between annoyance and amusement, finally settling on that trademark PR smile of his that was achingly fake. 

 

“Players of Fell Champions, allow me to introduce to you Otter Kaos, and our recent anomaly, Rua. As you all know, only one hundred players were invited to our little event, and somehow Otter here managed to get our one hundred and first. And how is just the damndest thing.”

 

He let that hang in the air for a moment, before spreading his hands in the air. “Truth is, I’m not sure how she did it. No one new logged in. I checked. She managed to pull a player into the game without doing that. But that just goes to show you the power behind Fell Champions. This world is so vast, so untapped, that not even I know all its secrets.”

 

“It’s official,” Otter said. “He’s a hundred percent full of bullshit and nothing else.”

 

“But it’s time for me to let you in on a few secrets of my own. When I started this beta test, I made sure to let everyone know that in the event of death, your time in the beta would be over. Just one hour ago, we had our first casualty.

 

“NightmareWasTaken apparently thought he was invincible, because he decided to attack an armed swordsman with nothing but his bare hands, presumably with the hope of getting some easy gear.”

 

“Hah,” Pandemona said. “He did a death speedrun.”

 

“Classic Nightmare,” Otter agreed with a chuckle.

 

“What I didn’t let anyone know beforehand, was that there are more consequences to death in Fell Champions.”

 

That PR smile turned into a grin, smug and full of itself and endlessly insufferable. He said nothing, but Otter had a sneaking suspicion.

 

“Oh my god,” Pandemona said. “He’s going to Tron us.”

 

Otter shook her head. “No. He can’t be. That’s… he’s messing with us. It’d tank Ashes²’ stock price. He’d destroy himself, and his company, for no reason. I mean, he’s an idiot, but… he’s not Elon Musk stupid.”

 

“What’s going on?” Rua asked, but Holt answered for them.

 

“Yes, as you all probably now suspect, I am going to Sword Art Online you.” 

 

Yeah, it figured he’d go with the douchey reference. 

 

"Oh my god, he is Elon Musk stupid."

 

“If you die in the game, your body in the real world will also perish. And as you all know, you all signed NDAs when you agreed to beta test the technology. You were isolated before you began playing, separated from your phones, taken to a location none of you knew in advance, and then were allowed to log in for the first time. No one knows where you are, and with the time dilation, it doesn’t matter anyway. By the time the authorities know that you’re in trouble, my game should be over.

 

“But why? Why, you ask. Why would I do such a thing? What about my reputation, my company, why would my software engineers ever go along with this madness? And this is indeed madness, at a level even Nero would look at and appreciate.” Holt laughed to himself, and Otter’s blood ran cold. “Why? Because chaos. That’s why. And that’s all the reason you need for now.”

 

His eyes had taken on a wild look to them, and he drank from his goblet, wine spilling across his chin as he did.

 

“If you die to the game, you will get one chance, one chance, to come back. And every time someone dies, you will all be brought here, and you will bear witness. I will pick one champion, one person to fight against the person who has died in a duel to the death. And if they prevail against the chosen champion, they will earn their chance, and the champion will die in their place.”

 

In the centre of the arena, a man appeared, dressed in a green peasant’s tunic and hose. 

 

Otter knew what was coming next. She knew the words before Holt said them, and already had her response ready.

 

“For my champion for this fight, I choose Rua.”

 

“I volunteer as tribute, motherfucker!” Otter shouted, standing between Rua and the screen bearing that half-mad face.

 

“Accepted,” he said, with a tip of his crown and no hesitation, as if he'd already known the lines.

 

“What does that mean?” Rua said. “What do you mean, you volunteer as tribute?”

 

“I got you in this mess. I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you risk your life just because of this asshole.”

 

“While I appreciate the sentiment. I think I’d have an easier time than you in a fight. I know what I’m doing.”

 

“We all know what we’re doing. Well, most of us. There’s a couple beauty ViewTubers, some React Andys, a political commentator… But most of us are at least somewhat familiar with these kinds of games.”

 

“And Nightmare’s washed,” Pandemona said. 

 

“And Nightmare’s totally washed,” Otter agreed. “I’ve got this.”

 

Reality itself blurred once more, and Otter was now standing on the sand. In front of her was Nightmare. A pair of daggers were stabbed into the ground between them. 


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