sprunki r63

“And contestant Roc is the winner!” the referee announced, drawing a chorus of cheers and jeers from the audience. Many admired the tenacity of this one-armed beastman, and plenty of others felt threatened.

“I can see your treasury. By now, all of the loot from the church raids must be long spent, most likely on the arena, with any remaining money going to repairing damages from the Wassengel battle and the loss of Welindar’s revenue. That pile of gold is going to keep getting smaller and smaller. Either Galvin is going to bankrupt the country, he’ll raise taxes, or he has a new resource to exploit. So which is it?”

Roc was narrowly holding his own, but he realized the battle couldn’t be decided on the ground. He pulled away from Ingram and flapped his wings, taking to the sky with his nemesis chasing after him. They flew laps around the arena, colliding and exchanging blows in midair. The audience raised their eyes and fingers to the sky, watching the airborne battle in shock and awe. Both feathers and blood were shed with each collision, with talons ripping through flesh and punches landing with devastating force. Over and over, it seemed like they would crash into the stands, but by some miracle, they stayed in the air. Higher, they rose, taking their battle above the arena. The tournament no longer mattered, only the battle, and there were no edges in the sky.