Goram vs. Horker:

  Kraken settled back into his seat as the tension in the arena thickened. The battle band hammered out a relentless rhythm while Fergus Fangblade, master of ceremonies, whipped the crowd into a frenzy.

  “Yes, my friends! At long last—Tengwar!” Fergus roared. “Contenders will be drawn for each match, and as each victor rises, Tengwar marches on! Now, the first ballot we have… Goram Urgnash versus Horker Rak?Ash!”

  The war drums boomed. The crowd surged with anticipation. Goram and Horker stepped forward, facing one another with blazing eyes as they chose their weapons. Goram strapped on his shield and hefted a mace; Horker, bare?armed and lightly armored, swung a heavy battle?axe over his shoulder.

  “As tradition dictates!” Fergus bellowed. “Fight as you will—wield what you want, wear what you want! But hear this: no poisons on blade or skin, no outside aid beyond words, and absolutely no striking the pinter. We do not compromise our bloodline!”

  The crowd rumbled in agreement.

  “And remember—victory grants the right to decide the fate of the defeated, unless a master or elder objects. Apart from that… have fun, and claim your glory!” Fergus swept his axes wide. “Fear not, lads! Are you ready!”

  The two warriors lowered into their stances. The arena held its breath.

  “Let the Thirty?Second Tengwar Tournament, commence!”

  The fight gong crashed like thunder. Goram and Horker charged.

  Goram struck first, a sweeping blow from the side—but Horker caught it on the hilt of his axe, the impact ringing through the arena.

  “A fast strike from Goram—but blocked by Horker!” Fergus shouted.

  “Maggot!” Goram snarled as he pressed forward.

  He baited Horker, then slammed his shield into the Rak?Ash warrior’s chest, drawing a roar of approval from the stands. But Horker only grew more enraged, answering with a savage flurry of axe?swings.

  “Oooh! A fine counter from Goram—but it’ll take more than that to bring Horker down!” Fergus crowed, the crowd erupting around him.

  Horker’s fury peaked. “I won’t go down easy, you bloody bastard!” he roared, hacking wildly.

  Goram dodged and parried with disciplined precision. Then—an opening. He struck low, his mace cracking against Horker’s knee.

  “That’s gotta hurt!” Fergus laughed as the battle band’s war?tunes surged.

  Horker’s roar shook the arena. Spitting in rage, he lunged. A massive punch shattered Goram’s shield, splintering wood across the sand. Before Goram could recover, Horker drove a brutal knee into his gut, launching him across the arena floor.

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  “Futile attempts to stop him—but Horker won’t let up!” Fergus bellowed over the thunderous cheers.

  Goram struggled to rise, breath ragged, pain flaring through his ribs. “Won’t go down easy, huh?” he muttered, forcing himself upright as Horker advanced like an avalanche.

  The Rak?Ash warrior’s onslaught was relentless. Each swing of his axe sent shockwaves through the sand. The crowd’s cheers twisted into bloodthirsty roars as the match seemed to tilt hopelessly against Goram.

  But then—rage surged through him. Goram planted his foot, twisted, and drove his mace into Horker’s knee with a sickening crack. The sound echoed across the arena.

  The crowd exploded.

  “A direct hit to the knee! What a comeback from the firstborn Urgnash!” Fergus shouted, nearly drowned by the uproar.

  Horker dropped to one knee, snarling through the pain. Instead of yielding, he grinned—brandishing his axe and beckoning Goram forward.

  Fergus jabbed a finger toward the fighters. “What’s this?! Horker is still up!”

  Goram hurled his shattered shield. Horker batted it aside with a smirk.

  Goram roared and charged.

  Horker, limping but vicious, scooped a handful of gravel and flung it into Goram’s eyes.

  “Cheap move—but acceptable!” Fergus howled.

  Blinded, Goram staggered. Horker seized the moment, swinging his axe in a murderous arc. “Die!”

  Goram heard the roar, dropped low, and slid beneath the strike—but not fast enough. The axe tore a deep gash across his shoulder.

  Before he could recover, Horker slammed his forehead into Goram’s skull. The impact rang like a drum. Goram reeled, vision swimming.

  The crowd erupted again, and Fergus fed the frenzy. “It’s not looking good for Goram!”

  Goram stumbled back, sucking in air, trying to steady himself. Across the arena, Kraken met his eyes and gave a single, firm nod. Rocka watched from the sidelines, heart pounding, seeing his brother bloodied but unbroken.

  Goram tightened his grip on his mace. He charged.

  Horker dragged his axe across the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust that billowed between them.

  “What’s this—a dust screen?! Let’s see if it works!” Fergus shouted.

  Goram plunged into the haze, blind again. He turned, searching, listening—

  A shadow moved.

  Instinct took over. Goram spun and raised his mace just in time.

  Steel met steel with a thunderous clash.

  Goram listened intently as the crowd fell into a tense hush. Horker, though limping, moved with surprising speed through the thinning dust. Goram caught only glints of his silhouette—an axe edge here, a shifting shadow there. He stayed still, watchful, waiting.

  Horker pounced.

  But Goram was no longer there.

  As the dust screen dissipated, Goram appeared behind him and struck the same shattered knee. The crack echoed like a snapped tree limb.

  “Gahhh!” Horker screamed, collapsing as the crowd erupted.

  “The same knee!” Fergus shouted over the roar.

  Wracked with pain, Horker lunged desperately, swinging wildly. Goram met him with a swift, decisive kick that sent the Rak?Ash warrior sprawling across the arena floor.

  “This is the end!” Goram declared, eyes blazing as he closed in.

  Horker, knee ruined and strength fading, mustered one last, futile strike. Goram blocked it cleanly—then brought his mace down in a crushing arc. The blow shattered Horker’s jaw, sending him limp into the sand.

  “He broke his jaw with that hit! Horker ain’t getting up from that one!” Fergus bellowed as the crowd exploded into thunderous applause, many gawking at Horker’s broken form.

  Kraken raised his hand, signaling the fight to halt. The arena fell silent. He descended into the pit, knelt beside his fallen son, and after a moment, nodded.

  Goram had won.

  “He will live,” Kraken announced, rising to his full height. “But the victor of the first match is Goram Urgnash—my son!”

  He lifted Goram’s hand high as the crowd roared in triumph.

  Rocka clenched his fists from the sidelines, stomach twisting. His brother had won. His turn was coming.

  Fergus laughed triumphantly. “What a fantastic fight! Goram Urgnash is our first victor! But don’t go anywhere—many more glorious battles await! We’ll take a short break as we prepare for the next match!”

  The battle band struck up a triumphant tune as Goram and Kraken exited toward the armory. Fergus readied himself for the next announcement, the air thick with anticipation for the carnage still to come.