Top Four: The Lake Giveth, and the Lake Taketh Away

There are few things the Capitol dislikes more than one-sided fights. Each and every one of the best conflicts in the Games are those that highlight their unpredictability, the ones where it is truly impossible to guess who will emerge alive right until the very end. It is that very unpredictability that makes the Games what they are - otherwise, wouldn't the biggest, strongest, or smartest tribute win every single time?

The lake knows that, deep down. The lake, after all, had never been an instrument of killing, so much more as an agent of chaos. It made its fun by sending minions after the tributes to startle and test them while amusing itself, and then when it was neglected, it made its fun by dealing with the tributes themselves. And though it was slow to catch on to the uptake, well, it still had a mind of its own. And each of the four remaining playthings that stood and drew breath deserved a smidge of its attention.

One, two, three, four - a perfect number, as that was the number of tendrils, or creatures, it could devote its attention to without any effort on its part. So one, two, three, four, it creates some of its minions out of its very essence - three slavering wolves and one gigantic screeching bat - and one by one, sends them after the four remaining tributes.

But this time, it isn't to fight. No, no matter how defensive or terrified the tributes get, the lake and its minions are not here to fight, not this time. No, as one, they leap, ignoring blades and tooth and claw, and splash down onto the tributes with every essence of their being.

The tributes soon find that this was not an exercise in kamikaze, for as one, their remaining wounds stir, stitching themselves tight until there is nothing but smooth, unblemished skin remaining. A blessing, perhaps, to ensure that no matter who their opponent may be, at least the fight will begin on even ground.

But some blessings exact a price, and the lake's is no exception, for with the ability to wash away pain comes the ability to wash away boons as well. Shining silver armor, an enchanted cloak, even a weapon that can defend as well as it can attack, all find themselves corroding, their protection melting away with the water even as their overall aesthetic - and in the weapon's case, its blade - remains. To balance the scales truly, the lake has taken into account everything.

It will be pure grit and skill that win the day today, not gadgets and trinkets.

(With the lake's blessing, every tribute has had their damage lowered to zero. Armor in every form is now defunct, and the bladed shield's ability to block an attack has been neutralized, though it may still be used to attack.)