Learner’s notes, day 5:

Today I learned that hooters will deliberately poison themselves for some reason. Spent the entire day in a place where hooters did nothing but poison themselves. I don’t see the appeal, but it seemed as if some hooter felt better afterwards, while others felt worse. I took the liberty of trying some of this poison.

It killed a noticeable fraction of my units.

No, drinking poison is not for me.

This may prove to be a hindrance when I attempt to pass as a hooter, so I’ve considered creating a design for a specialized ‘poison processing’ unit. Or perhaps an impermeable sack to hold onto the poison until I can expel it later. That seems like it would work.

Didn’t see The Manifold Predator today. The absence made my guts feel like they were being eaten. Learned new vocabulary. Too numerous to list here.

***Shelia Uleis***

They could hear their breathing in the air before the gates went down, reverberating through the silent chambers.

“We’ll win this battle for you, Milady,” one of the men said. She wasn’t sure if they were trying to make her feel better or suck up to her. It didn’t make much difference.

Royal Order

22/24 Bent remaining.

“I don’t want your words, I want Focus.”

The soldiers snapped to attention, straightening their shoulders and staring dead ahead, glaring a hole in the doorway.

That’s more like it. One had to use a light hand with Royal Orders, lest the user leave their people feeling violated or insignificant.

That was why she typically used it to bolster her own troops. They couldn’t be particularly upset with vague commands that boosted their effectiveness.

The door began to sink into the water, revealing an entire arena full of the life-giving stuff. Having lived in the deserts of Uleis her entire life, It was like nothing she’d ever seen.

Wasteful, she found herself thinking.

A hulking man riding a boat screamed past her, the tuft on the top of his hat thrashing in the air as he was forced to keep a hand on his head to avoid losing the damn thing.

He was beautiful. Rippling muscles shining in the light of the sun as though he’d been rubbed with oil, the sheer amount of power in those hands…

Then she took in what he was wearing and almost laughed. What in Elani’s name made him want to dress like that? It’s outlandish!

Then she saw him take out a competitor’s ship with a single throw.

Shit. Gotta stay in the game!

“Put on all the speed you can manage!” Shelia shouted. “Get us close to the action if you can! Can all of you swim?”

As one they shook their heads.

Fuck. “The water’s only seven feet deep, just remember you can float if you keep a lungful of air, and failing that you can kick off the bottom between breaths until you get to the wall of the arena.”

Royal Order

21/24 Bent remaining.

“Don’t Panic. Understood?”

They nodded.

“Let’s go. Full speed!”

If there’s people that can sink our ship with a flick of the wrist, the only safe place is… Next to someone else so I can take their ship.

It seemed like the brute had made an impression, because several other ships eschewed the use of the cannons entirely, about five of them gathered together to form a small flotilla of chaotic fighting at the center of the arena.

Shelia instinct steered her away, refusing to join the pile while attempting to stay close enough to one of the eight other circling ships so she could jump on board if necessary.

In a matter of minutes, her hunch was proven right.

Lightning leapt from a man’s fist on the far side of the pile of ships, detonating against the glass and tearing a hole in the vessel immediately, it’s commander jumping onto the next boat and fighting for control.

Then there was a deep thrumming noise, and one of the boats shattered, making the flotilla even smaller.

Thank the gods I didn’t join that pile, Shelia thought as she watched the Legends on the outside tear the boats out from under their competitors with their Abilities.

Might as well join the fray.

In her time defending the borders of Uleis, Shelia had made a point to study one of the twelve classic Gadveran disciplines, along with the traditional Uleisan Heat Control.

Baromancy. The ability to control pressure.

She drew her Nem lined sword and used it as a focus to target the water beneath the competitor in front of her.

Heat and pressure combined to create the hybrid skill: Fragomancy.

Or explosion magic, to the layman.

Detonate

20/25 Bent remaining.

She increased the pressure under the boat, which dipped down as the water compressed under it. Then the liquid swelled up in a massive dome before The boat erupted into the sky with all hands aboard, tumbling in midair as the crumble-glass fell apart under the pressure. An instant later, the boat plunged into the water. The owner, thoroughly soaked, was removed from the running.

She scanned the mess. More boats had been sunk in the few moments her attention had been diverted.

There were only six boats left, including her own.

Nine down, five to go.

The massive man in the distracting outfit was one of them, his boat moving so fast it was able to dodge blasts, arrows, and the occasional lightning as it weaved through the arena.

Another contender, a woman more than a foot taller than Shelia, wearing a ripped Bolesian dress with no sleeves, stood upon a boat that seemed to have been transmuted to steel. Attacks bounced off of her and her vessel left and right.

The woman was bleeding from the mouth as she grinned wickedly, lifting a cannon over her shoulder and aiming it by hand at an opponent.

Booom!

Four to go. Shelia thought, glancing at the last two contenders. There was an Electromancer from the southern jungles with thick coils of copper wire on his arms and legs giving her the hairy eyeball, and a…torso that seemed to be sprouting massive ivory blades from its mouth, deflecting cannonballs and sinking ships.

No one ever said this wasn’t going to be crazy. She thought, taking a deep breath

You get that many Legends in one place, and things are bound to get strange.

First thing’s first. The Electromancer.

From Shelia’s rough understanding, the man’s attacks were both difficult to predict and defend against, he could be somewhat neutralized by dousing him, and he was heading her way.

Alright then, she thought, pointing her sword down.

“On my mark,” she said, aiming for the water between them. The man’s arms moved.

“Fire.”

Detonate

19/24 Bent remaining.

The water between them ballooned upward before transforming into a massive geyser, blocking the bolt of lightning in an explosion of steam.

The ball of steel, however, plowed through the water like it didn’t exist.

I need to see. Shelia thought.

Detonate.

18/24 Bent remaining

She created an explosion in the center of the geyser, clearing the wall of water in an instant.

The electromancer was staggering backward, holding his shoulder.

It seemed the cannonball had hit him instead of his ship.

Damn

Shelia tried to put an explosion directly under his ship while he was distracted, but the man was alert enough to sent his own Bent down into the water to interfere with hers, resulting in roiling bubbles.

Damn. There goes the chance of ending this quickly.

That was when a lightning bolt leapt out of the man’s hand and slammed into her chest. Her muscles convulsed in a painful split second, throwing her overboard.

He doesn’t need to move? Shelia thought as adrenaline began to course through her veins, slowing down her fall into a timeless instant. He probably thinks he’s won. What better time to steal that victory?

Wings of Aldrin.

17/24 Bent remaining.

A controlled explosion caught the center of Shelia’s mass and flung her high up at a speed that felt like it might break her neck if she had a commoner’s Endurance.

That explosion was followed by another, hurtling her toward the man, until she could see the whites of his eyes.

He raised an arm, and Shelia hit herself with explosion after explosion, zigzagging across the sky as she made her way to him.

A bolt of lightning lit up the air inches away from her face, and she got the briefest whiff of ozone before she flipped over, and drove her heel into the man’s solar plexus at a speed he couldn’t follow.

The man left behind one of his copper earrings as he hurtled backward and slammed into the wall of the arena before tumbling down into the water.

Shelia winced. I hope he’s not dead.

When she glanced back over toward her ship, she found it sinking. The woman with the metal ship waved jovially as she drove the prow of her boat through Shelia’s like a knife.

Damnation.

“You,” She said, pointing to the electromancer’s former crew. “You’re under my command now.”

“Ah, Yes, ma’am.”

In the distance, she spotted the huge man battling the tooth-man…thing. He was aboard the other man’s vessal, using an oar to fend off the ivory blades that were slicing towards him at blistering speed.

He’s so shiny. Maybe he really did rub oil all over himself. What kind of man would do that? A self-absorbed one, most likely.

Why am I overthinking this? She set those thoughts aside and focused on the woman. The foreigner’s dress was slashed in several places, revealing that her steel skin was spread across her entire body, not just her limbs.

Detonate.

16/24 Bent remaining.

As an opening gambit, Shelia created an explosion right beside her opponent, guessing she likely didn’t have any training in counterspelling.

Shelia was right, but it didn’t change anything.

The blast of concussive wind more than capable of sending a body hurtling through the air didn’t do more than make her opponent rock to the side. Some kind of toughness ability, perhaps?

On the bright side, the majority of her opponent’s rowers were catapulted off the side of the boat, leaving them limping through the water.

With that extra range, Shelia had the advantage against the close range fight.

“Get our cannons aimed at her ship.”

“But ma’am, that thing’s already shrugged off several cannonballs. I’ve seen it.”

Shelia eyed the water between them and behind her, not spotting any soldiers close enough to be in danger, then she calculated the risk to the Uleisan men rowing her opponent’s ship.

It was acceptable.

“Just load the ball, don’t bother with the devil powder.” She said, glaring at the competition.

For her part, the other woman was reaching into her own mouth and…

Is she snapping off a tooth!?

A shiver of disgust crawled across Sheila’s skin.

“Aim!”

Her men aimed both port cannons at their enemy

Multi Detonate.

16/24 Bent remaining.

The explosions she put in the cannons were far stronger than the play-toy shots of devil powder designed to barely damage crumble-Glass.

This would put a hole through the wretch’s ship.

The cannons recoiled violently as they channeled Shelia’s magic into forward momentum, sending the steel cannonballs shooting forward at lightning speed.

Her opponent somehow could keep up with the speed of the ball, diving downward, knuckled of her right hand intersecting with the hurtling ball.

There was a metallic ring that hurt the ears of all the spectators as the steel-skinned legend drove one of the cannonballs into the water, while the other took a healthy chunk out of the boat.

The woman was on the clock now, as water gradually lapped into her boat.

I’ve won this one. She has no way of getting to me.

Then the savage threw her tooth, the sharp triangular thing flew through the distance between them and buried itself in the floor.

What the –

There was a crack of green lightning, and a copy of the woman was standing in front of her, giving her a bloody smile.

Shelia dodged backward, a steel fist brushing air past her nose. She whipped her sword forward, and the Nem-laced sword bit into the woman’s skin, but just barely, unable to create any tangible wound. A few drops of blood oozed from the wound, and the savage’s shiny skin seemed to turn rust colored, and thicken.

Shelia didn’t have time to think about this as the savage pressed her advantage, pushing Shelia further and further toward the edge.

Just as Shelia was coming up with a plan to toss the duplicate overboard, it switched tactics, kneeling down and smashing a fist into the deck of the crumble-glass ship.

“No!” Shelia shouted, rushing forward. In her haste, she forgot to mount a defence.

The savage woman in the ruined dress leapt forward and caught her by the neck.

Shelia slammed her fists and her pommel against the woman’s wrist and face, butit did nothing to deter her.

“Goodbye,” She said.

An oar came down on the back of the woman’s head, moving through the air so fast it screamed. The oar exploded on contact, and the evil savage’s grip went soft as she slumped to the ground before dissolving in a green mist.

Shelia tumbled backward, and was nearly forced to use Wings of Aldrin again when a strong grip caught her waist, halting her fall.

She found herself cradled like a child in the arms of the enormous contender.

Up close he seemed even bigger.

“I figured you could probably use some help with Breanne. She’s a tough one.”

“Go find your own opponent, you dirty scavenger!” the savage woman shouted with a thick accent the Shelia had trouble placing.

“Already done with him!” the giant shouted back with a Gadveran accent, pointing. The tooth man was pulling himself out of the water already, climbing up the loser’s exit.

“I can’t find the words to thank you,” Shelia said, taking in the shape of his jaw. “How about dinner?”

“I have a girlfriend, sorry.”

“Damn,” Shelia clicked her tongue.

The big, strong arms vanished from beneath her, and in the blink of an eye he shoved her down into the water.

Her whole world became watery and wet, as she plunged into the lukewarm water. The shock of sudden moisture was nothing compared to the shock of defeat.

She broke the surface just in time to witness the giant unsling a Uleisan bow from his hip and casually put a glass bolt through the steel ship, somehow exploding the transmuted boat out from under her former opponent.

Not what I wanted, but third place is recoverable over the rest of the tournament. The score was averaged, after all. She just had to make sure she averaged higher than those two.

***Farren***

“What did I tell you?” Kurawe’s imposter said, munching on fried Horker as the referee paddled out to the last ship above water, where the ridiculously dressed peasant’s arm was raised.

“And here we have the victor of the first round, Grabnar the Barbarian!”

The huge fighter bowed.

“Would you like to say anything to the audience, Grabnar? The spectators have been wondering about the outfit for a while now. Do you dress like that normally?”

Kurawe chuckled at this and took a long swig of wine, not showing any of the concern a body double might for his act or his safety. Strange.

The huge man in the thong and high heels stepped up to the amplifier, tapped it then began to speak.

“Ah, yes, it’s a traditional garb from the faraway village of Deinos that is worn by the ‘best boi’. It marks me as superior to everyone in my generation. Despite the gnashing of teeth, it’s just a fact that I’m objectively more attractive, and this clothing is symbolic of the bitter envy of my smaller, weaker, uglier peers. The best boy nomination wasn’t a direct result of making it to second and possibly even third base with certain people’s sisters, but I’m sure it did factor into the decision making process when I was given this outfit.”

“That son of a bitch,” Kurawe said, chuckling playfully beside the crown prince. “It’s on.”