“Annnd with a terrifying tail whip to the jaw, the Taiga Tyrant is down! She’ll be feeling that in the morning! Our winner is the Summer Swordsman of Ekkeshikaar!”
Cheers resounded through the stadium as the announcer floated high above, her voice booming. Triangular pennants lowered in defeat from one corner of the arena, as triumphant sunflower bouquets showered down from another.
Lei took in the sights and sounds as she walked the arena, steaming basket in both hands. Usually, she parked the cart outside to cook buns while her daughter worked the crowd, but the scamp had run off to “scope out the competition at the exhibition matches.” She’d suspiciously taken enough to feed both her and her two friends, and she’d been gone for hours. Now, Lei was selling buns herself, but to be honest, it was a welcome change to be inside the arena even if the stairs were doing a number on her knees.
“Speaking of, if you want to not feel that in the morning, that last match was sponsored by Plum Rain’s plum wine! For a deluge of flavor and a clear-sky taste, try Plum Rain today!” the announcer chirped as attendants ran out to sweep the arena and recover the few remaining non-vaporized pieces of the Taiga Tyrant’s spear.
“Auntie! Two char siu, two black sugar! Make it fast!” a young man in a feathered hat, clearly a merchant, called from a small throng around a nearby railing. As Lei ambled over, her eye caught on a pile of coins, and next to it, a bespectacled priest with a ledger and slate. Wagers on the tournament, then. She opened her basket and passed out the orders, collecting a few blade-shaped coins in payment.
“Fancy a bet?” the young merchant asked.
Lei didn’t usually indulge, but she caught a glance of the next two contestants readying themselves. In one corner a lean Vudrani monk in blue performed a series of warm-up stretches, and in the other, a young green-clad warrior paced back and forth. Lei took a closer look and played the match out in her mind. Why not? “Blue holds upper hand for seven moves, then Green wins in three.” Lei put down the coins she’d just collected on the railing.
The merchant laughed into his bun. “Maybe you’ve been too busy baking to actually catch the fights, but that guy’s been trouncing his competition all day. The girl’s just some initiate out of Indapatta, not even fully graduated. I couldn’t possibly take such a bet from someone of your...” He looked at Lei’s stained apron, “...means.”
Well, no mercy then. The baker dumped her earnings for the day out onto the railing. “Three consecutive.”
The merchant closed his mouth, opened it, and elected to take a bite instead. “You know what, it’s your coin. I meet and accept whatever odds the Ministry sees suitable. Witness?”
The priest nodded. “The Ministry of Numbers and Fortune recognizes this wager and sets eight-to-one odds for the skilled baker, pursuant Article 3.51.01 of the Gambling Code. By Abadar’s gaze, the deal is sealed.” The Ministry’s judgement was as impartial as it was absolute.
The peppy human megaphone floating above the arena clapped her hands. “Ladies and gentlemen, now that the staff has finished disarming the ice snares from that last match—at least, most of them, I think—it’s about time to make like a sky chariot and get this show on the air! Contestants, take your places, and let fate guide your fists!”
“Ready?”
Lei smiled. By the end of the day, she’d be sitting in a fine hotel room overlooking the bay, with one of those luxurious balcony baths to soak her knee in.
“Fight!”
Illustration by Kent Hamilton
The man let out a roar and opened his fingers into a clawlike form before leaping forward.
“Southern Panther,” Lei and the merchant muttered in unison, before their eyes met with a smile. It was always nice when the competition knew their stuff. The monk blazed his way across the ground, and the other warrior barely blocked the strike, catching a slash across the cheekbone. He followed up with a swift flurry of attacks, and the initiate didn’t fare much better, barely turning away each.
“Two moves to Blue.”
“He has the advantage in speed,” the merchant said, and Lei didn’t argue—the girl was outclassed. She tried some sort of spinning backhand, but her opponent ducked easily and whirled around before delivering a series of palm strikes that shone with silver light.
“Moves three and four to Blue.”
“Good qi control as well,” the merchant observed.
“Coating his strikes for extra impact,” Lei agreed.
The girl leapt in the air to try a kick, but the monk brought his silvered fists together, releasing the energy in a ripple that blasted upward and caught the initiate in the jaw. Her momentum halted, he sent her reeling back with an uppercut. From there, it was simple for him to knock her to the ground with a sweeping kick of his own.
“Five, six, and seven to Blue.”
Rather than pressing the attack on a downed opponent, though, he waited. One of those warriors’ codes, no doubt. The initiate’s chest rose and fell once, and Lei felt like she could hear it even over the crowd’s roar.
“He shouldn’t have let her catch her breath,” Lei said, leaning forward in her seat.
“What’s the harm?”
The girl in green leapt up, full of energy once more, like she hadn’t just spent the last minute knocked about by one of the top fighters on the continent. She swung, and though the monk brought his arm up, her fist accelerated mid-hook, snaking around his guard like a leaf on the wind. She connected with his jaw, driving him twenty paces back, to wild cheers.
“You said some school in Indapatta? That uniform’s the Academy of Golden Arms, and that’s their signature technique—cycling their breath through their organs to generate elemental energy. Air brings… speed and flexibility, I believe.” Lei suppressed a smile. “You’re probably too young to remember the last time there was Golden Arm in the tournament.”
“After seven moves in Blue’s favor, one to Green.”
The monk had regained his footing, but the other warrior raised her fist and wind spiraled. Another exhalation brought an eruption of lightning, crackling and splitting into four strands that shot in each cardinal direction. The electricity speared toward the audience, but it crashed against transparent walls of power cast by the Grand Judge herself, Hao Jin. The audience gasped, and for one great moment, tens of thousands in the Grand Arena—young and old, from all across Golarion, many not even sharing a language—were united as their attention hung in this one moment.
This… this was why Lei loved the Ruby Phoenix Tournament. Not for the fights, not for the fun, not even for the business it brought her little food cart. This.
The lightning spears converged into a single great lance pointed at the monk, who crossed his bracers and met the attack valiantly. Sparks splashed about him, and the glow around his wrists betrayed that his focus was now solely on defense. The blast pushed him back even as he defended, and his foot slipped ever so slightly on the sand. His center of balance tipped.
“Two to Green.” The merchant wiped his brow.
As the storm abated and the monk moved to correct his footing and resume his attack, his opponent snapped her hand back with a gasp of power. A pulse, and the monk’s arms—or rather, his bracers—jerked toward her, and with no grounded stance, there was precious little to stop him from flying forward.
“Our initiate’s lightning technique has magnetized the bracers on our silent, handsomely chiseled fighter, and she’s drawing him closer at extreme speed!” the announcer blathered. “I wonder if she’ll teach me that in time for ballroom season!”
The girl planted her feet, twisted her hips, and drove her fist forward with all her might, delivering a single punch to the monk’s sternum as he flew into her at breakneck speed.
The match was over.
“Seven moves at Blue’s advantage, followed by victory in three consecutive by Green. The baker has it.” The magistrate’s fingers moved on an imaginary abacus before he swiftly divided out all but a tiny portion of the coins and passed them to Lei. The merchant stared slack-jawed. Lei opened her basket, and seeing there was only one bun left, she put it in the merchant’s mouth before scooping his money in—it was the least she could do.
She turned out of the arena. She’d close up a bit early today, and tomorrow, she and her daughter would take the day off to catch some matches from a proper arena seat.
Now, to see about that hotel room, the one with the balcony bath.
About the Author
James Case is a designer at Paizo. James has also edited manuscripts for scientific researchers, translated materials for music labels, and written for various RPG products, including the Pathfinder and Starfinder game systems. You can find him (and his thoughts on comma usage) on The Twitter at @toriariaria.
About Fists of the Ruby Phoenix
The time has come again for the Ruby Phoenix Tournament! The sorcerer Hao Jin has invited only the strongest martial artists, adventurers, and fortune seekers to her world-famous fighting competition. The motley roster of contenders must compete for this decade's champion title and the choice of one of the Ruby Phoenix's grand treasures. Who will come out on top, and who will be left in the dust? There's only one way to find out! The Fists of the Ruby Phoenix Adventure Path is a three-part monthly series of connected adventures that compose a complete Pathfinder campaign.
