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Belet, a pro-labor noble from Waterdeep who hunts evil dragons, faced Derick, an aging hippo cleric who sails the black holes of space, on an ancient battlefield where somebody once made a final stand and lost. The night brought a daylight savings scare, a wagon flipped onto an old man, a Box of Chaos that got stoned and drifted off to see Les Misérables, and a support group for the large of nose. It ended in the mud with an AARP pamphlet and a promise of hippo cookies.

The Story

Late, or Not

Sunday night in the Dread Fortress found the Arbiter wandering the halls, “clanking his chains behind him.” Nobody knows what he is always doing on a Sunday night. The Grandmaster came sprinting down a stone hallway, slamming doors and shouting for him, trailed by a huddle of little goblins carrying the charcuterie board (“because we always have one of those”). Exhausted, she was convinced the Deathmatch was supposed to have started an hour ago.

The Arbiter let her down gently: “You do know that it was daylight savings time, right?” She froze. “We have our own plane. We could get rid of these stupid rules.” When he pointed out she could abolish it right then, she refused. It would go on her agenda for Monday morning, because “It’s not official unless it’s done Monday through Friday between nine to five.” The Arbiter deferred to her “incredible business acumen.” Slightly disappointed that she could no longer be righteously angry, the Grandmaster asked whether he had at least brought anyone.

Enter the Champions

The Arbiter clapped. The sound rippled visibly through the halls, a portal tore open in time and space, and through the fog stepped “Derick Taladin versus Belet Bladesimmer. Or something like that.”

“I am Belet Blesamar of Waterdeep,” she announced, struggling slightly with the word “deathmatch.” She was the seventh in a long line of nobility, so her parents “don’t give me shit,” and she adventured for treasure instead. She had learned to fight “killing evil dragons mostly,” though she was quick to add that not all dragons are evil. Some just had a rough upbringing, “but there’s other dragons who are pretty nice.” The Arbiter had found her in a dragon’s den.

Derick had less of a grip on things. “Hello. Welcome to me, Derick. I don’t know where I am exactly.” The Arbiter shrugged it off: “I make them sign the release forms. It’s not my fault that they don’t read them.” Derick hailed from “the deep holes of space,” riding the rifts on his Spelljammer ship, and the Arbiter had plucked him out of a black hole. Belet said it was nice to meet someone who wasn’t trying to kill her. “Trust me,” said the Arbiter, “I know exactly the feeling.” Asked for her terms, Belet wanted to know about pay. Told it was “adequate,” she accepted. Derick raised his lance: “To battle!”

A Battle Long Lost

The Arbiter cracked his knuckles and clapped open a dark, musty portal that smelled “of old wood and old death.” “Welcome, champions, to a battle long lost,” the Grandmaster declared. The ground was gray and damp, littered with old weapons, broken bones and “maybe a few leftover people here and there.” The champions stood inside a crushed ring of wagons and broken wood, five to ten feet high in places, the barricade of some group’s doomed last stand. “This soil has hungered for blood for hundreds of years.”

Belet asked about a tetanus shot. The Grandmaster promised great medical insurance, a retirement fund for anyone who made it out alive, and “a gym membership for the gym around the corner.” Derick sniffed that he had been to worse places in the galaxy: “This is not even amongst the top five.” Offended, the Grandmaster threw a handful of mud at him, and it went straight into his mouth, goopy and tasting like shit. “Eat four points of dirt, sucker.”

Then a small pug, “a little beaten and worn,” hopped out from behind her. Doug barked at each champion to keep them on their toes. Belet knelt and offered him a hag’s eye from her pouch, an oblong eyeball still attached to muscle tissue (“It’s actually really tasty for little pugs. It’s kind of juicy”). Doug gobbled it down, danced between her feet and blessed her with a little extra luck. Derick only complained about the yapping, but Doug respected a man who defended his personal space, glared at him, and ran back to the Grandmaster. Above them, the Acolytes screamed for blood. The Grandmaster told the champions to “give them a fight worthy of remembrance,” and the Arbiter spread his glowing white wings and soared into the dark.

Javelins and Teacups

Belet struck first. She jumped onto the wreckage and hurled a family javelin across the ring, and it hit. When the Grandmaster said she believed in her, Belet snapped, “You better start believing in me, fucker!” A second javelin hit too. Scrambling over the barricade, she slipped and took a splinter to the shin. “That’s the wound that you’re going to remember,” said the Grandmaster. “It’s the splinter.”

Belet’s squire, Shala (“Charlie,” to those who can’t pronounce it), watched from the stands in a T-shirt with her face on it. She had rescued him from the ruined town of Greenest and chosen him because his nose was as big as hers: “you got to join the big nose club.” Behind him cheered the Big Nose Club itself, a support group, a movement, meeting every Tuesday at 6 p.m.

Derick pulled the javelin out of his chest plate, raised his lance (“Give me power”) and summoned a spectral weapon in the shape of a giant, platinum-filigreed teacup. Belet invented a rule on the spot: “If you’re gonna attack me with a teacup, you have to spill some tea about you.” He had none (“I left my tea on the ship. I figured I’d be back before brunch”), so he revealed his favorite color instead: “Bronze, of course.” Belet: “Bronze, third place color?” The teacup missed. The javelin, still soaked in his own blood, did not. Derick hurled it back for a brutal critical hit. He then tried to intimidate her by banging his lance on his shield, with “the worst cadence.” Belet compared it to an old man saying “hello my fellow kids,” which set off an argument about whether “bop” is still a word. Doug rolled his own plush d20, and the Acolytes cheered both champions on with a fresh burst of energy.

Suck My Wagon

Belet spent that energy on something nobody had ever done before. She charged through the mud, squatted deep and flipped a heavy wagon over on top of the old hippo. “Suck my wagon!” “Dear heavens!” Derick stayed on his feet and ended up holding the wagon on his shoulders, trapped underneath. Belet vaulted on top and stabbed down through it, but missed. “You’re quite heavy on top of this thing,” he groaned.

The Grandmaster clarified for the Acolytes that Derick was a hippo. Derick then ripped off his trunk, which turned out to be glued on. “I have an even larger nose now.” A section of the crowd gasped and covered their noses, children screamed “Not the nose!”, and Belet called it a despicable mockery of her people. Derick prayed to heal himself while Belet jabbed at him through the planks to stop the magic words. Then he tried to shake the cart apart, rolled the worst result possible, and buckled at the knees. “I can hear your back breaking down there,” said Belet. He finally wriggled free and circled behind her.

Gerald Gets High

The Acolytes, the Nose Club loudest of all, demanded chaos. The Arbiter snapped his fingers and the Box of Chaos slammed down from the sky into the wagon. Pink and purple flames shot up without heat, shadowy fingers crept over the rim, and Gerald peered out with his yellow eyes. Belet offered him three VIP coupons for musicals back in Waterdeep. Gerald perked up: “Do they ever do Les Mis?” In return he floated her a potion of storm giant strength, which she chugged. “Now he’s really fucked.”

With a shoulder feint she hit hard, then apologized: “I feel really bad about this because this is like picking on an old man.” Derick knocked her blade away, she caught a second wind and posed as her hair blew back, and he muttered, “Looks will only get you so far, madam.” Then he went to the box himself, offering Gerald half a pound of pipe weed from a high-oxygen planet. Belet was appalled: “You’re telling me you smoke weed and you’re against labor rights? What the fuck?” From inside the box: “I’m a complicated guy.”

Derick pictured himself holding a blunderbuss. The lid opened on a billow of smoke, and Gerald, his eyes now bloodshot red, swayed back and forth with a giant gun, tilted back and fired it by accident past Derick’s head. The smoke grew so thick it lifted the box clean off the battlefield. Off to Les Mis! “I dream to dream of time gone by,” Belet called after him. Derick poured all his healing into himself (“This blunderbuss better fucking work!”). Then the Arbiter rolled a natural 1. “Suck my consequences.” The Grandmaster insisted nothing had happened, and the Arbiter cast modify memory on the entire crowd.

Old Bones

The Acolytes summoned a chaos event. A strange tingle crept from both champions’ toes to their fingers, and every muscle flexed at once. “Oh, it’s the arthritis again,” said Derick. Belet tried to sweep his leg in honor of the “immortal sensei of Cobra Kai,” but her body betrayed her and she swept her own, landing tailbone-first in the mud while green magical dust shook off her. Her second try dropped him flat.

As Belet pressed the attack, the Arbiter took pity. “This is cruel and inhumane. You’re absolutely right. This is pathetic.” He wrapped a glowing barrier around Derick. “It’s because hippos are endangered,” the Grandmaster explained. Belet pledged all proceeds from kicking this hippo’s ass to endangered wildlife and kept swinging. Derick screamed in pain, loudly and uselessly. “The future is now, old man.”

Derick dug through the cart, found three measly dried apples, and scooped them through the mud into his mouth one by one. Then he rolled onto his back, shouted “Call the city guard, but not for me!” and opened fire. The blunderbuss shots exploded, three of them, and Belet escaped the blast of only one. “Starting to feel like the chaos gods may have overcorrected by giving this person the minigun.” Both champions were now bloodied. Meanwhile Doug whimpered at the throne’s edge. His plush d20 had fallen into the mud during the Arbiter’s disaster, out of reach.

Always Remember Derick

Belet’s first swing missed. Derick’s teacup could still have fought, but a coin toss decided whether he remembered it, and he didn’t. “Alzheimer’s is kicking in,” said the Arbiter. Belet used Doug’s blessing, but the Arbiter’s barrier held: “Because we’ve rigged the election. Remember to vote, kids out there.” Derick pleaded for calm. “I will be plenty calm when you just respect people’s right to a fair living wage.” Her next swing killed him.

Belet tucked an AARP pamphlet into his shirt pocket, and with his last breath Derick ripped it up. His final thoughts were of his brother, Larry: “I shouldn’t have taken my brother’s armor. He was much better at this than I was.” Doug retrieved his d20, and the Grandmaster raised a toast “for the blood that was shed in the hippo steaks that we will eat tonight.” The dying Derick managed a startled “Huh? What?”, and she pushed his face into the mud. They would not actually eat him. There would be hippo-shaped cookies and tea in remembrance. “Always remember Derick.” She flew Belet up to the Acolytes, where Shala and the Nose Club had torn off their shirts to wave them overhead, free nipples all over that section.

Dried Blood

After the fight the Arbiter revealed that the Dread Fortress is proudly pro-union: there is a chinchilla union, a goblin union, and possibly one more. The leader of the chinchilla union “is kind of a dick though.” The Grandmaster praised the PTO program: at least three extra days off a week, an extra-long weekend each month, and a mandatory two weeks a year. Belet felt she’d earned them: “I should hope that I would get two weeks off after getting shot in the fucking gut.” And she still has that splinter. At the table, Derick’s player admitted he had meant to play the heel, capitalism against Belet’s unionizing, which is hard to do while getting beaten up.

Notable Moments

  • The Grandmaster nearly abolished daylight savings time on the spot, then scheduled it for Monday, nine to five.
  • Belet flipped a wagon onto Derick, a first for the show, and he ended up holding it on his shoulders.
  • Derick ripped off his glued-on trunk, horrifying the Big Nose Club and their children.
  • Gerald took musical coupons and pipe weed, got stoned, fired a blunderbuss by accident and floated off to see Les Mis.
  • The chaos event made Belet sweep her own leg.
  • The Arbiter shielded Derick out of pity, and Derick’s killing was answered with a ripped-up AARP pamphlet and promised hippo cookies.

Memorable Quotes

  • The Grandmaster: “It’s not official unless it’s done Monday through Friday between nine to five.”
  • The Arbiter: “I make them sign the release forms. It’s not my fault that they don’t read them.”
  • Derick: “I left my tea on the ship. I figured I’d be back before brunch.”
  • Belet: “Suck my wagon!”
  • Belet: “You’re telling me you smoke weed and you’re against labor rights? What the fuck?”
  • Gerald: “I’m a complicated guy.”
  • Belet: “I will be plenty calm when you just respect people’s right to a fair living wage.”
  • Derick: “I shouldn’t have taken my brother’s armor. He was much better at this than I was.”

The Grandmaster: “Always remember Derick.”

Who and What Appears

Characters

Belet (isfridayTV / Friday). Belet “Bladesimmer”/“Blesamar” (surname uncertain) of Waterdeep.

  • A noble, seventh in a long line. Her family gives her nothing, so she adventures for treasure and mostly kills evil dragons (but some dragons are nice).
  • A fighter: Battle Master maneuvers (pushing, lunging, feinting and trip attacks), Mage Slayer, action surge, second wind, Indomitable. Longsword and two family javelins with a Waterdeep inscription.
  • Squire Shala (“Charlie”), rescued from the destroyed town of Greenest.
  • Founder (inferred) and member of the Big Nose Club, which meets Tuesdays at 6 p.m.
  • Pro-labor rights, which her bourgeois family wouldn’t approve of. Has musical connections in Waterdeep. Carries hag’s eyes as pet treats. Is good with animals.
  • “She’s French” (Friday’s aside).
  • Found by the Arbiter in a dragon’s den.
  • In this episode: won Doug’s inspiration, flipped a wagon onto Derick, got a potion of storm giant strength from Gerald, swept her own leg during the chaos event, was shot by the blunderbuss, killed Derick.
  • Still has the splinter.

Derick (Nat1Fun / Dan). Derick “Taladin” (surname uncertain).

  • An old hippo (Astral Spark comes from his hippo nature) with a trunk glued on as a fake nose, which he ripped off.
  • Travels the rifts and black holes of space on his Spelljammer ship.
  • A cleric / war priest who also has Lay on Hands (Dan mentions smite). Lance and shield.
  • Favorite color: bronze. Smokes a pipe and carried high-grade pipe weed from a high-oxygen planet.
  • Forgetful. Left his tea on the ship.
  • Wore his brother Larry’s armor; Larry “was much better at this… He was a fighter.”
  • In this episode: got Gerald’s +3 blunderbuss, and was given +2 AC by the Arbiter out of pity. Killed by Belet; to be remembered with hippo cookies.

Grandmaster Elusia Skypiercer (Caustic Phoenix).

  • Believes in procedure: business is done only on business days, 9 to 5, with agendas. Plans to abolish daylight savings time on the plane on Monday.
  • Threw mud at Derick. Promises medical insurance, a retirement fund, a gym membership and PTO.
  • Proposed hippo steaks, then retracted it for hippo cookies.

The Arbiter (Mudcat).

  • Clanks chains while wandering the fortress on Sunday nights. Makes champions sign release forms.
  • Knows the feeling of everyone trying to kill him.
  • Took pity on Derick (+2 AC). Rolled a nat 1 and “cast modify memory” on the crowd.

Gerald (Mudcat). Lives in the Box of Chaos; yellow eyes and shadowy fingers.

  • Wanted to see Les Mis and took Belet’s coupons.
  • Got high on Derick’s pipe weed and his eyes went red. Fired the blunderbuss by accident.
  • Drifted off on the smoke “to Les Mis”; expected back with a souvenir cup, T-shirt and flag.

Doug the pug. The Grandmaster’s pug, “a little beaten and worn.” He grants blessings and inspiration, rolls a plush D20 at round ends, and chews a bone. He cried when his plush D20 fell into the mud.

Shala (“Charlie”). Belet’s big-nosed squire from Greenest. He wears a Belet face T-shirt and went shirtless in celebration.

The Big Nose Club. A support group and movement in the stands. Covered their noses in horror at Derick’s trunk.

Larry. Derick’s brother, a better fighter, whose armor Derick wore.

The goblins carrying the Grandmaster’s charcuterie board. The Acolytes.

Places

  • The Dread Fortress: stone hallways and the Grandmaster’s throne room (mentioned).
  • “A battle long lost”: an ancient gray, damp battlefield inside a crushed ring of wagons/chariots, littered with old weapons, bones and bodies. The soil has hungered for blood for hundreds of years.
  • Waterdeep, Belet’s home (shows and musicals). Greenest, a destroyed town where Shala was found.
  • Derick’s “black holes” and space rifts; a high-oxygen planet.
  • A gym “around the corner.”

Items

  • Potion of storm giant strength (Belet, from Gerald).
  • +3 blunderbuss with explosive shots (Derick, from Gerald).
  • Derick’s teacup spiritual weapon (platinum filigree). Derick’s lance, shield, pipe, glued-on trunk and Larry’s armor.
  • Belet’s family javelins, hag’s eye treats, three VIP musical coupons (traded) and an AARP pamphlet.
  • The flipped wagon. Three dried apples. Doug’s plush D20. The charcuterie board.

Lore statements

  • The Grandmaster’s realm keeps daylight savings time, for now. She calls it “our own plane” and rules by agenda and process.
  • The Dread Fortress has unions (chinchilla and goblin unions) and a PTO program (Dried Blood, see flag).
  • The arena’s champions are promised medical insurance, a retirement fund and a gym membership.
  • The Box of Chaos can fly off with Gerald inside.

Full Round-by-Round