Survival

"The Fog sets in..."

Valeria Irida Lombardi didn't move from her position at the window. But at the sound of the horn and the booming voice, she stole a glance at her wrist display. Thirty contestants left. And she'd only eliminated one so far. This was a poor showing by her standards - she'd did far better on her good days. Four or five at the most. The payout would be below average.

Forehead furrowed, the blonde woman looked over her shoulder at the glowing Forge. The announcement meant little on the face of it. She'd travelled far enough into the centre from the edges of the Fog - she didn't have to move yet. But she knew others would be mounting up, looking to get out of its range as the circle drew tighter. Some of them would see the smoke rising from her location, and hear the clank of the magically-animated hammer. She might as well have painted a giant bullseye on her rear, for all the attention she would attract.

Fourty more seconds. Too long. If somebody came here, then all of the shards she'd spent would be wasted. And she was out of armour potions, though her chestplate still bore a few dents. She needed to hang on until-

She glanced back as she heard the sound of hooves.

A Warrior. Valeria didn't know his name - not that it mattered. He was part of one of those three or four-person groups, the ones who popped in, had their fun and popped right out again. Probably a new guy getting shown the ropes by his friends. But he'd seen the smoke, and was making a direct beeline for it, down the cobbled path. Out in the open, weapon holstered and making no effort to stay inconspicuous.

Rookie mistake.

She fired before he'd even reached the level of the adjacent trees. The bullet's impact knocked him right off his horse - the animal, a mere magical contstruct, fell apart in a blaze of dust and light. He hit the ground roughly, one hand reaching for the revolver on his hip. Obviously high-level - he'd eliminated somebody for it. But he was panicking, head darting, trying to tell which direction the shot had come from.

Valeria didn't give him the chance. She lifted her free arm, and the magic sizzled in her hand before rushing out towards him in a fireball. That, he saw coming - and he saw her, too, on the upper window. He crouched for the briefest moment, then sprang into the air with rocket force, sailing over the explosive burst of the projectile hitting the earth. His weapon was aimed in her direction - he was hoping to fire on her as soon as he reached the peak of his jump.

She fired first.

The shot struck him square in the head. His body exploded in the same puff of shimmering dust his horse had, and when it disappated a blue-feathered chicken dropped out of the air instead. The bird hit the ground with a squawk, flailed in the dust for a moment, then picked itself up and began flapping the other way, looking to escape. Valeria traced its intended route easily, and it only took another shot to put the thing out of its misery.

Two eliminations. A little better, but not by much.

Reloading, Valeria took note of the items her victim had been carrying. Not bad. The boots and chestplate left a lot to be desired, but his weapons were pretty good. The revolver, again, had come from a more experienced player, but his blunderbuss had been forged to a nice standard. A pity, really - shotguns were never her style. The rest, she'd have to disenchant. Perhaps there was enough to make some more armour potions-

Her ears caught the creak of wood under weight. Despite herself, panic flared through her.

Someone was coming.

She turned and ran for the stairs-

THUNK.

-only to give a yell as the crossbow bolt struck her straight in the upper arm. Her rifle dropped from her hands, clattering to the floor, and she grasped the projectile in reflex. Through the agonized haze in her vision, she saw the brunette hair of a Hunter, and heard the click of her reloading the weapon she was carrying. But the blonde didn't give her the chance to fire again - she raised an arm, and a wall of rock sprung up between her and her attacker, which she quickly ducked down behind.

Despite the pain, Valeria's mind was racing. Her new friend must have been with the Warrior. The poor bastard had been a distraction - she must have taken the chance to sneak into the house through another way. Assuming they were in team, that meant the others - two more, most likely - weren't far behind. She'd have to take this one out quickly, or else she'd be caught in a three-vs-one situation at the very worst.

A smirk crossed her face at the thought. She'd been waiting for a challenge.

The Mage hunted down further, every muscle tensed. The footsteps of the other woman coming up the stairs were like gunshots in the back of her mind. The glancing blow from the crossbow had been bad enough - a direct hit would put her out of the running for good. And in the confines of the house, long-ranged weapons were out of the question. She'd need to disarm her attacker quickly, and then finish her off before she could attract the attention of others.

Close combat, then. Okay. First order of business - get her away from the Forge.

And the best way to do that...

Valeria waited until she heard the Hunter near the top of the stairs, then moved. The rock wall crumbled - dismissed by its caster - as the blonde threw herself over it like a panther leaping for a gazelle. The brunette was tackled off balance with an "OOF!" before she could react, and the crossbow flew through the air, knocked from its owner's grasp. Both women went down together, tangled up in each other, cries of pain following the tumbling ball's journey to the ground floor as they bumped and bounced down the wooden stairs.

Even as the world somersaulted crazily around her, Valeria drew her knees up to her chest and braced herself. She felt her back slam into the floor, the impact and the other woman's weight on her driving the wind from her lungs and folding her in half. But this was the position she'd wanted. With a grunt of effort she pushed her feet hard into the Hunter's stomach, straighting her legs out and throwing her off. She was sitting up before the brunette had hit the floor, pistol in hand, firing off purple bolts in her enemy's direction.

But the interloper had been thinking on her feet, too. Whilst some of the bolts stuck into her, she'd started rolling to one side the moment she heard the weapon firing, and most of them missed. She was on her feet in an instant, face contorted with pain and anger.

"You bitch!" she shrieked, and drew a sword. It was large, a little too large, and she visibly hunched as she took it in both hands and charged.

Good. Valeria was starting to think this was going to be difficult. The Hunter, she thought, should have tried to retrieve her weapon, which had just crashed down at the foot of the stairs. But she was angry, blindingly so. And the Mage could tell when somebody, too used to fighting at range, didn't know how to use a sword. 

She ducked under the first swing and fired some more bolts into the brunette's midsection, causing her to stagger. The second swing was even more sloppy as the poison took effect, and Valeria caught it with one arm and kicked the blade free from the hands that grasped it. She lifted her own weapon, but the Hunter suddenly ducked, and the Mage was promptly tackled around the midsection, dropping the pistol as she hit the floor. She'd underestimated her foe's tenacity, and the other woman now straddling her stomach clearly wanted to spite her for the earlier tumbling. 

But, slowed by poison, she only got off two good punches before the blonde grabbed her shoulders and rolled the both of them across the floor. In the confusion that followed, the two women somehow rose back to their feet, grappling hard before pushing apart. Daggers were drawn, and steel clashed furiously against steel. This was not how either of them wanted this to go, but in the confines of the house their usual tactics were out of the question. And it was only a matter of time before somebody else came along or the Fog rolled in again. There was too much to lose for them to worry about finesse.

Things seemed to turn when the Hunter kicked Valerie down, sending her sprawling across the floor towards the stairs. With a cry of triumph, she brandished her dagger and dashed towards where her opponent lay prone.

And found her own crossbow pointed at her face.

BANG, BANG.

Blue feathers covered the floor where the Hunter had stood. Valeria let out the breath she'd been holding, then rose into a sitting position and nursed her bruised midsection. The crossbow bolt in her arm had fallen out at some point, and a trickle of blood flowed from the wound. Damn. If it hadn't been for that, she would have gotten this done quicker. And then there was the whole 'tumble-down-the-stairs' thing, which various parts of her body were screaming at her for. Oh, well, work with what you have.

The Hunter's equipment lay in front of her. None of it was really worth replacing her standard gear for. But the Shards from it, combined with that of the fallen Warrior, would probably be enough for a better set of armour. Picking herself up, the blonde Mage reached over and touched each piece in turn, the objects dissolving into golden crystals with a chink noise that rang in the silent house.

...the silent house?

Valeria paused, and listened. And, in hearing the song of unsuspecting birds and the rustle of the wind, she missed the clang of iron on iron.

The Forge had stopped.

Abandoning her quest, Valeria turned and ran back up the stairs. Her knees protested at the action, still annoyed at having to briefly bear another person's weight. But she pushed herself, knowing that it would be worth it when she got there. She'd had the thing set to craft a new weapon, one that she knew would give her an edge. And as she mounted the top step, her heart sang as she imagined how much easier this would be, how many more eliminations she would-

She skidded to a stop.

The anvil was bare. Nothing on it.

Cold horror set in as, realizing what it meant, she turned.

"Hello, love," purred the Assassin, and opened fire.

-------

Valeria jolted awake.

Her first instinct was to claw for her weapon, but there was nothing there. Then, her mouth feeling dry and tickly, she spat, and stared as blue feathers felt into her lap. The feel of a duck down mattress beneath her told her everything she needed to know, as did the sudden lack of pain in her body.

She was back on the island. Eliminated.

She didn't even stop to make remarks to the others who had been laid up. She simply jumped off the bed and stalked out of the door. A young Warrior flinched as she passed, but she paid no attention.

The controller, a diminuitive and elderly goblin, was waiting for her when she left. He was sitting behind a podium too many sizes to large for him, which made him look as ridiculous as it was possible to look. A pair of goggles sat on his forehead, just above his bushy, snowy-white eyebrows. Most of his face was hidden behind a beard, which was probably a good thing. Because Valeria might have taken his sympathetic smile to be a patronizing one and punched him.

"Twenty-seventh, Valeria," he remarked as she approached. "Don't worry, we've all had our bad days. But you had a good showing, and-"

He was interrupted when a bag of gold coins was thrown onto his desk. He looked up, and saw the fire burning in the woman's eyes.

"Again," she demanded, her voice a low tiger's growl.

The controller frowned. "Miss Lombardi, you've been competing for five hours straight. You need to-"

"Again."

There was a long pause akin to the one before a thunderbolt strikes.

Then the goblin sighed and reached for a microphone under his desk. It was something he'd done many times before.

"Control to Flight 83, requesting a reserve seat for Valeria Lombardi..."