Chapter 23: Dodging Dame

As Happy Hour moved around the room, Jester picked out the puzzle elements.

There were six pillars in all. Three of them were in a row, splitting the room into three vertical sections. Attached to each of the pillars was an unlit torch. A classic adventurers type, with a wooden base and a cloth wrap.

When Happy Hour drew near to one, he could see something dripping from it. His first assumption was an oil. Some sort of accelerant to make it easier to light.

The door out of the room was a simple grate on the opposite wall. Attached bolts around the grates’ edges dug into the wall. They shone and glimmered in such a way they were impossible to miss.

Not a complicated puzzle to figure out.

A fact that didn’t surprise him. After all, any of the robots involved would need to complete it. Which meant there would need to be a variety of ways to complete it. Jester was willing to bet Spellslinger would have the easiest time with it.

That floating hat seemed the type to pack a fire spell.

He adjusted himself in his seat as he watched the screen. Happy Hour was moving once more, done with her examination of the torches. Now she’d moved to the grate.

With one hand, she slipped her fingers through the bars and tugged. It didn’t budge. She kicked at it, but that did nothing but produce a loud clang.

With a shake of her head, she turned around and started to once more survey the room.

There were no signs of any tools in the three sections. Not so much as a burning candle. Jester could sense the worry creeping up on him. His mind fixating on the idea he should have brought tools.

However, he knew that was wrong.

Minemachine13 couldn’t have carried anything into the room. Which meant the room itself must be able to provide the fire.

Though from the look of that one’s tail, it simply could have busted through a wall.

As he watched, Happy Hour moved. Her steps were light and careful as she swayed this way and that. At first, her swaying made little sense until the camera pointed towards the floor.

There were markings on the ground, a clear sign of a trap.

When she reached a pillar, she paused and stretched out a leg. The toe of her show tapping the symbol with a light thud.

A ball of fire shot from a nearby wall. It travelled past Happy Hour, who was pushing herself against the pillar the best she could. Before it smacked against the opposite wall, leaving a cartoonish scorch mark.

When it didn’t come again, Happy Hour nodded and reached behind her. A hand grasping at the torch and pulling it from its socket.

Jester winced.

As soon as she dislodged the torch, a new fireball appeared. It flew across the arena, forcing her to move to dodge it. To the cheers of the audience, she held out the torch as she did. The end lighting with a satisfying crackling.

She beamed as she placed the torch back on to the pillar with a satisfying click.

Then the arena changed.

Now it wasn’t a single fireball.

All the traps triggered at once. Symbols flashing without her needing to so much as lay a finger on them. Fireballs shot across the arena from all the walls.

Flames filling the pathways between the pillars in a grid pattern. All going past the room’s torches.

It was a clever design and Jester could see the various ways a robot could manage this task. Some would dodge. Others could fly over them. He was sure the ruby snake could slither beneath.

Happy Hour, of course, danced.

With a clap of his hands, he watched her get into position. She was close to the pillar, needing to be to take whatever space she could against the shooting flames. A buzzing filled the room. It rose and fall, a simple waltz.

Though the buzzing was the main musical instrument, he could hear a soft hum coming from her mouth, too. Sharp and high. A rising melody that complimented the softer constant buzz. Because no matter how the noise of the bees faded away, it never vanished entirely.

As another fireball passed, the sound of the bees grew angry. As though protesting the idea of the flames themselves. From the look on Happy Hour’s face, she felt the same way. A death glare to the obstacle who dare intrude.

For a second, he worried about the smoke. His brain conjuring up facts about it putting bees to sleep. However, as he looked, he saw no cause for concern.

When yet another fireball passed her, she pushed away from the pillar. Her arms were outstretched, as though grasping an invisible partner. A queen at a ball, dancing with a neighboring prince, perhaps?

As she twirled around another fireball, expertly stepping into a space where the two intertwined. Her armor glinted as though a jewel. With her outfit, and the scowl, a painting formed in Jester’s head.

One that made his hands twitch.

Happy Hour, standing in the middle of a ballroom. Soldiers surrounded her. Generals and lower, as she twirled with an enemy commander. Who, from the look on her face, she hated with an intensity that she couldn’t describe.

The man would die by the end of the dance. A final ball to honor him, before his execution. His last wish, to dance with a queen. Not a bad way to go out.

A portion of the screen in the viewing room changed to show the audience's reaction. They appeared as entranced as he did. Several cheering, even when they boo’d before. This was a spectacle.

No one could deny that.

If RagerSystems weren’t already adding this to a highlights reel, it would come as a shock to him.

Her skirt shifted an inch out of the way of a fireball as she reached another column. The one beneath where she’d started. She lit that torch as well and then moved to the third. At one point, her invisible partner dipped her with such excellence she moved under the fire.

Another time, because of the size of her hoop skirt, a fireball singed her. Though it did little, but scorch the material. The black dots fled from the scene, however. The song didn’t falter in the slightest. In fact, the buzzing grew louder. A fact that forced the humming to grow alongside it.

Jester winced until it went back down to more tolerable levels.

With half the room done, the fireballs changed tactics. While they stayed in the same grid pattern, the speed and even the size of them changed.

Some were so massive no one could dodge them. Though those were often slower than their normal counterparts. In contrast, ones smaller than Happy Hour’s head appeared. These rocketed across the chamber.

Before splashing against the opposite wall.

Happy Hour didn’t seem to care. Once more, she took up the arms of her invisible partner. The enemy commander who dared to ask her to show him such feats. As soon as the bigger, slower one went by, she stepped into the corridor. As fast as any, she twirled, moving around one of the smaller ones.

Jester leapt to his feet at the move, cheering at the scene. That was when a normal size one struck her from behind.

It burned at her outfit, and she dropped her arms to dodge more frantically. She was still dancing. Now she was alone. She twirled and moved, doing everything she could to get to the next column.

She was there with seconds to spare.

The crowd was roaring once more. Voices screaming for her to be burned once more by a fireball.

Jester himself tried not to wince. She had little health, and it was impossible to see how much damage she’d taken. To his relief, the dress itself seemed to have reflected most of the damage.

Whatever metal Madame Merriam used was enough to stop the fabric from burning. Though the orange honey mixture seemed more gooey than it did before. With another torch lit, she pushed off once more.

Again in the arms of her invisible partner. They moved between the two. Slower now. No longer quite fitting the tempo of the song. However, it was safer. A fact Jester would not begrudge her.

When only the last torch remained, the room changed once more.

Instead of the walls, they appeared from the floors. Not the normal-sized ones either. The big, slow ones that covered so much area. They forced Happy Hour to move, and move she did.

With graceful steps, she twirled, staying away from the pillars where the flames were located. It kept her safe, but prevented her from getting to the torch. A stalemate, of sorts. One that she could break, but only in a certain way.

Self-sacrifice.

She would need to step into the flame to get the torch lit. From the way she moved, Happy Hour could see it, too. Wasting no more time, she went for it.

The buzzing was loud.

Though, not even it could drown out the crackling of the flames running over her armor. It burned sections of the dress, leaving more of the chain mail exposed. Her arms reached out to grab the torch, to draw it into the flames.

When it lit, the fire vanished.

Happy Hour was a mess.

Parts of her outfit were gone, and others charged and black. Sections of her hair faired the same, and even her tiara looked partially melted.

A queen stepping off a battlefield. Victorious in her conquest.

Few of the black dots remained. Those that did swarmed to any non-burned fabric sections they could find.

As soon as Happy Hour placed the final lit torch onto the pillar, the door opened. Bolts clanged to the ground as the grate rose into the ceiling.

With that, Happy Hour adjusted her tiara, grabbed the spear she’d left on the floor, and walked forward.

All to the cheers of the surrounding crowd.

***

Neither Minemachine13 nor Spellslinger did anything nearly as impressive.

The snake met a series of small robots that scurried out of a series of huts attached to the floor. It moved around, chomping down, and crushing them with its blade fangs. It was here that Jester learned it could also spit a type of acid.

He watched in awe as the smaller machines went from hole things to little more than slag. After they were all defeated, a gate opened, and the challenge was over.

Spellslinger got into another puzzle room. This one was about pushing a series of blocks onto the right platforms. It did so with no issue. A simple beam of energy was enough to shift them.

So, it simply hovered in the center. Every so often firing a beam as it spun. Neither got as much attention as Happy Hour did. The crowd cheering, but no one was anywhere as close to mesmerized. A fact that cheered him immensely.

After all, if the Troll was right, both these machines creators spent a bucket load to kick him out of this competition. At this rate, they wouldn’t get the chance.

Then Happy Hour entered another room.

An empty one, so there were no direct challenges. A bit boring, but it hardly mattered to him. He was simply glad that she was safe. Until the blue circle appeared over the field.

It looked like a board game piece. A large red arrow pointed towards several options. Most were simple things: fight an NPC, get teleported to an obstacle room, freeze in place for two minutes.

Three of the options concerned him, and they all contained one word—teleport.

Teleport to Minemachine13.

Teleport to Spellslinger.

Teleport to Center of the Maze.

Any of those options would be bad. At current, MineMachine13 was in the room with the bridges. It’s gem studded bulk, slithering towards the exit. No other things appeared, but Jester could see the shapes in the water following its progress.

Spellslinger was in a hallway. A fact that would place Happy Hour in limited confines for her normal movements.

The Center? Dust still billowed, blocking it from view. Though the shadow was getting more distinct. Big, and clearly robotic by the size of the joints.

Jester doubted the Designers intended anyone to beat that. It looked like a classic instant kill trap. One designed for easy knockouts to speed up the competition. He crossed his fingers as he watched the spinner move.

That was when he saw it.

As the arrow slowed, it was obvious it was going to freeze Happy Hour in place. A move that would make her a sitting duck. However, because of everyone’s placement, no one was likely to run across her.

When it stopped, though? Jester saw it jerk as though someone placed a finger in front of it. Instead of freezing, Happy Hour took a single step forward and vanished. Seconds passed before she reappeared right in front of MineMachine13.

With a hiss, the snake jerked back. An attempt to get some distant for its acid spit.

Gates slammed down as the Snake moved, locking the room from both sides. They were now trapped. Though Jester knew that was only true until one of them died. There was no count down, as the fight protocols had started when they entered the maze.

Happy Hour stepped to the left, her bees buzzing as the acid sailed past them. The green glob falling carelessly into the water. Another hiss came from the snake, as Happy Hour hummed.

This was no waltz.

Her voice was deep and rhythmic. The Buzzing following suit. Start. Stop. Start. Stop. Drums of war. A clear signal that the fight was on.

She stared at the Snake, her body shifting side to side as she stared deep into its eyes.

Jester watched as it bowed to her, before swaying itself. Its tail drill spinning faster and slower to add a percussion of its own. Not that it stopped it from attacking.

It swung its tail drill towards Happy Hour, who stepped backwards. Her shoes didn’t make a sound as they moved onto the bridge. Though it reacted to her presence.

As opposed to the rock solid foundation the snake was on, it now wobbled and bucked.

The movement forced Happy Hour to keep going to reach the other platform.

Players in the crowd were cheering again. Their signs being held high as the snake joined her on the bridge. Even though it was stuck in its dance emote, it didn’t seem affected. No matter how much the bridge shook, it slithered forward.

He wasn’t sure if it was out of acid, but it didn’t spit more. Instead, it jabbed its head forward. Mouth open as though to bite down.

Instead of a robotic casing, it met the point of Happy Hour’s spear. Sparks flew as the two metals met. The snake shifting away from the tip. With a soft hiss, it bent backwards as Happy Hour continued to shift backward. She was aiming for the platform.

A place she could stand on stable ground.

Shadows in the water lurked about it, and Jester felt his stomach sink. Would they pounce when she reached it? He didn’t get long to ponder it, as the snake attempted another lunge. This time spinning and leading with its tail.

The whirring of the drilled filled the air as it approached Happy Hour. However, she blocked, though not without cost. The spear tip went flying, leaving only the pole behind.

Now it wasn’t simply her clothing that was damaged.

Jester knew if she’d been human, Happy Hour would be gasping for air. As she faced down this mechanical beast, her limbs would shake from fear and exhaustion.

None of that occurred, however.

Happy Hour stood proudly as she faced the monster that slithered towards her.

The humming grew louder, followed by the buzzing. As the snake came off the bridge, she stood her ground. Her pole, the last vestiges of her weapon, held high.

That was when she spoke.

“Come at me, foul creature. This battle is ours!” her words rang out around the area.

Jeers and cheers met the proclamation, and even the snake stopped for a brief heartbeat. As though confused that another robot could even talk.

“Ours?” Jester echoed, as he watched the scene unfold.

Water burst upwards, revealing a series of mechanical sharks. They were the classic theme park design. Animatronic things that barely moved as they should. Not that it stopped them from dancing. Tails and fins flicking about as they made it onto the platform.

Jaws opened wide as they bit down on the snake.

It thrashed, tail maneuvering to drill into one clamped nearby. Then another. However, it was too late.

Happy Hour was back to humming as she marched forward. The pole gripped in her arms went towards the ceiling, before crashing down onto the snake’s head. Again and again, she hit the creature.

Jester hollered along with the crowd at what they were seeing.

Gemstones fell from the snake as it thrashed and bit. As it attempted to get at the dancing Android that moved about it. She struck Minemachine13 on every drum beat. Dents appearing on any surface, the gemstones unable to protect it.

Its attacks eventually destroyed the sharks, but by then, it was too late. The snake was on its last legs and everyone knew it.

They followed another hiss by one last lunge that Happy Hour dodged. With one final smack from the pole, Minemachine13 rolled off the platform and into the water.

There it sank, shadows moving towards it at great speeds.

Jester jumped for joy as he saw her smile into the water.

They were that much closer to winning.

All they needed to do now was deal with Spellslinger.

***

His eyes bored holes into the screens as Spellslinger finished another puzzle room.

This one was simple. It needed to push a ball through a series of grated tubes. A feat it managed with the use of its gross tongue. Jester couldn’t help but grimace at the sight.

Happy Hour was moving through the maze at a good clip once more. Damaged and bedraggled, she still carried herself with proper poise.

Both hers and Spellslinger screens were floating above the maze now. Almost joined, so the audience could more easily watch them together. Jester couldn’t help but wonder what it would have been like to be in the stands. To witness all of this unfurl with the surrounding energy.

From the glimpses of the others players he got, he bet it would have been a blast.

Both of the participants in the maze got through more puzzle rooms. Happy Hour getting a platform challenge. She skipped and hopped through it with little effort. As Spellslinger made its way through another box pushing puzzle.

That was when the floating hat stepped into an empty room. As the spinner appeared once more, Happy Hour was moving through a darkened hallway. Each step was careful as she looked around her.

The arrow moved and stopped.

Jester swore out loud at what it had landed on.

Teleportation to the middle of the maze.

However, this time, it wasn’t only for Spellslinger. No, according to the dial. Both participants were going to need to deal with whatever that thing was. As the two contestants vanished, so did the dust.

Players cheered and screamed as Jester stared at what they were facing. He couldn’t believe it. There was no way. What stood there was a robot he recognized. Even though it was far, far bigger than it used to be.

Neanderthal. The dinosaur robot that was taken out by a blast from a simple cannon. It roared towards the sky. As its two bright blue eyes focused on the two newly arrived contestants, it roared again.

Even its massive sound not drowning out the hoard of players. They were screaming for blood. None were holding signs now.

It was clear who they were rooting for, and it wasn’t any of the previous contestants.

The massive T. rex head looked down at both of them. Happy Hour stared back, her buzzing music starting up. Spellslinger flipped over, tongue flicking out as though tasting the breeze.

None of the mechanical fighters moved.

Jester could feel his breath catch as Neanderthal moved its head. The pace was slow, so slow, as it looked between its two victims. Blue light crackled in its mouth, an attack it didn’t have during its heyday.

For a moment, he wondered how much the company paid its creator.

Then again, there was a solid change he’d have done it for the publicity. They were still streaming. This wouldn’t be the worst thing to get to do. Plus, the developers clearly put the effort into the change it enough no one could complain.

Even though it was still obvious.

Jester could admit it was a clever idea. To bring back an old champion to fight those now gunning for the title.

The first attack cut off his train of the thought. However, it didn’t come from Neanderthal who was still charging up. Instead, it was Spellslinger. It floated forward as its tongue shot out towards Happy Hour.

She recoiled, but wasn’t able to dodge out of the way before it slapped across her face.

A section of the crowd let out lewd hoots as Jester slapped his palm to his face.

He knew this would happen. These headlines were going to be the worst.

Happy Hour looked stunned for a moment as she stared at the hat. Not that she could do much, before Neanderthal roared once more. With a swift motion, it fired the energy into the ground.

Happy Hour dodged left, as Spellslinger floated to the right. It’s gross tongue retreating into the bottom of the hat.

To Jester’s disappointment, Neanderthal’s stats remained hidden like the others. It was a shame. He’d have loved to see the damage rating of the gigantic dinosaur.

The section of ground it directed the beam at cracked as shards flew into the air.

Happy Hour continued to move after her dodge, though she was neither humming nor dancing. Spellslinger fired off a spell itself. A blue bolt that crackled with electricity.

It missed Happy Hour, landing against one of the dinosaur’s massive legs. There was no effect, not even a roar. Neanderthal didn’t even look around at the hat. Focused more on roaring at the audience.

Who, in a display of dominance, did the same thing back.

Happy Hour hummed, once again embracing her invisible opponent. In her first few steps, she twirled to avoid Spellslinger’s next attack. A red beam of light that flickered with flames. It was an impressive movement, however; it put her in the path of another danger.

The tail of the dinosaur shifted and smacked her into a wall.

Jester winced as she watched a repeat of what happened to The Lovecraftian Knight.

Happy Hour was slower to pull herself out of the wall than that robot had been. Her saving grace being the bulk of the shifting dinosaur blocked her from view. A fact that wouldn’t be true forever.

She struggled out, and Jester could see the honey now pouring down her armor plating. To his surprise, it was getting stuck in the cracks. The orange liquid all that kept her armor together.

Not that it stopped him from wincing.

There was no way she could take any more real hits. She needed to fight back, and soon.

Another bolt accompanied Neanderthal’s roar.

It crackled with electricity as it flew towards her, but she dodged it with a perfect twirl. Spellslinger was being clever. It knew its best chance was to stay ranged. While Happy Hour’s combat style would force her to close range.

This was a bad match-up for her.

One that Jester knew could kill any chance they had of continuing. If not for the custom gear to make up the difference, she’d be gone already. He really would have to thank Madame Merriam, regardless of the outcome.

Maybe name-drop her if they won.

The battle stayed like that for a while longer. Both contestants blocking the swipes and attacks from the dinosaur, while Happy Hour used the massive beast for cover. However, it couldn’t last.

A new spell came from Spellslinger. This one a charge attack. The ball on top of the wizard's hat glowed for over a minute before it fired. A green beam, with a variety of different colored sparks swirling inside.

Happy Hour dodged once again, but this time, when it hit Neanderthal, it didn’t vanish. It burrowed. The beam piercing through the dinosaur’s leg with an ease it shouldn’t have.

Jester remembered seeing the big robot beaten the first time.

The similarities were uncanny.

With one of its legs taken out, it couldn’t ignore Spellslinger anymore. It turned, a beam of its own firing towards the hat. Who simply levitated higher, ignoring the destructive power completely.

As the line swept over the floor and walls, it searched a trench along its path. Deep enough that Jester felt he’d need help to get out if he fell in.

Happy Hour took advantage of the spat. As she twirled and danced her way around the robot with such speed, she more than left the song behind.

However, even that wasn’t enough.

With an enraged roar, Neanderthal flicked its tail once again.

Jester winced as he watched it clip Happy Hour. Not a full blow, nothing that would do any damage. However, it was enough to shift her trajectory.

She continued to spin, unable to stop as he moved towards the ravine, the beam carved into the floor. With one more step, she fell, the clattering of her spear following her down. Darkness enveloped her, and it was all he could do not to shout out.

Instead, he stared at his hands.

His eyes trained where the box would appear, signalling their loss, and waited for the end.