Rooming with the Wicked

27 | game on

"Chop chop, we don't have all day," the referee said, marching off at a brisk pace.

Jaydis skipped past me, practically bursting with excitement. Danox shook his head with a sigh and followed suit alongside Kenas. I darted behind them, and Haze took up the rear, a strangely thoughtful expression on his face for once.

We walked through orange fields for a solid twenty minutes before another smaller tent came into view. Two giants stood off to the side, watching us with a mixture of curiosity and reserve. Like Kenas, their eyes were golden.

Even from afar, it was clear that these two were much bigger than him though. They had to be at least ten feet tall. And they were built to fight. The metal-plated armor covering their chests and the pointed spears only made that all the more obvious.

"Final preparation time," the ref said, pointing at the tent. "You got fifteen minutes. No more."

Kenas closed the tent behind us. Before I could even ask Haze for my potions, he held them out to me like some overly amused magician.

Show-off.

I cleared my throat and set my backpack on the table. First things first. I sprayed myself with Camouflage twice and then held the little spray bottle out to the others.

"What is"—Danox sniffed the air—"damn, I can't smell shit."

"This is how I followed you that one night," I said, smiling.

"You know," Jaydis said, spraying himself, "I made one of these before too, remember?"

Danox snorted. "Oh, I remember alright. You smelled like air freshener for a week."

"Fine, so it wasn't perfect..."

While these two bickered some more, I grabbed five small vials. "Swiftness," I told the guys before downing one. "It'll last for about a day. I have extras."

"Nice," Haze commented, studying the pale blue liquid. Turning to Jaydis, he said, "Pay attention. You could learn a thing or two."

After I handed each of them an energy potion and we went over the new rather improvised plan once more, a faraway horn sounded. Jaydis's eyes lit up like it was Christmas morning and he ripped open the tent with surprising vigor.

"Game on," he announced.

The ref stood next to the two giants when we emerged from the tent. Their conversation ceased, and the naiad bent down to pick a large black bag up and motioned for us to come over. The giants nodded a brief greeting at us before walking into the dense forest, spears lowered leisurely in one hand.

"Here," the ref said, holding out a short bright red pipe.

My hand closed around it, and I realized what it was. A flare.

"This is your emergency signal," he explained after handing each of my teammates one too. "If you find yourself unable to continue playing, tear the top off. You don't need to hold it up or anything, these are bright enough to spot from a mile away, even through dense vegetation. We've got a dozen referees patrolling the skies, so expect someone at your location fairly soon."

Reassuring.

"Please," he sighed, "I can't stress this enough—please use it before you pass out. We've had to send out entire search parties for three days because some idiot didn't wanna forfeit. Don't be that idiot. Please."

His hand disappeared inside the bag once more, and a moment later he was holding a bright blue glowing rectangular flag. He opened his mouth to speak, but I beat him to it.