All the extra cleanings that Hoc and Sarbie had been asked to perform clearly had paid off. The church practically looked like a bastion of shining gold set among simple wooden houses. Hoc and Sarbie were both dressed in slightly fancier versions of their regular outfits.
“Pardon me, but have I perhaps missed a minor holy day venerated by the Church of Kushang?” Illaria asked. “You both look very nice; I’m just a bit out of the loop, it seems.”
Hoc laughed heartily at the question. “No, this is all due to the Festival of Blades! Rumor has it that TaeCol will be one of the judges during the event! He hasn’t been to visit Sha-Laial in some time! He’s the most famous Paladin in the whole order! Everything has to look exactly perfect for him.”
“Hoc looks up to him as a role model if you hadn’t already figured that out,” Sarbie said. She looked a little less thrilled about the topic at hand.
“Come on, Sarbie, we should be honored to be graced by him. He’s a living legend! Responsible for helping end Ageneon's War! Don’t pretend you're not at least a little excited.”
“That's all well and good, but this is more your thing than mine,” she reminded him.
“So, what do they usually do here in Sha-Laial to celebrate the Festival of Blades?” Illaria asked. “Other than the tournament itself. Is it still teams of five?”
Hoc was practically beaming as he answered. “Here in Sha-Laial, we do teams of five, too. As far as attractions, first and foremost, they obviously build a wooden stadium in one of the open fields; pretty sure that happens at every Festival of Blades. The real action is along the river. Lots of street food and attractions. Merchants from all over set up along the river walk and sell their wares. Painters like that Ij fellow are also all over the place. If anyone has a good or a service to provide, they make it available.”
“Anyone sells cheese?” Bait asked.
“I’m certain there were some vendors who carried cheese, but I don’t remember anyone specializing in it outside of Ben. You know what I do remember, though?” Hoc asked with a grin. “Some absolute genius made a slingshot that launched people into the river. You had to sign a waiver just to participate. I really hope they bring that back again. There are also plenty of carnival-style games and a few other traditions. Lots of cool lantern lights get hung over the river walk, and there's a ritual about releasing little paper boats with candles onto the river, too. They also hold a few events for the competing teams so people can get a feel for what the team represents.”
“Any idea how much it costs to enter the festival as a competitor?” Illaria asked.
“No idea, wait, are you guys considering putting in for it? That would be awesome! I’d know someone competing in the festival. You guys have to promise to tell me if you get in!”
“If you guys are going to try to participate, you’re going to want to head over to Ardon field; that's where they’re building it this year. I overheard some of our priests talking about assisting with the wards,” Sarbie said.
“I’ve always wanted to figure out how they do that particular enchantment,” Alvec mused. “It's supposed to stop any of the damage from becoming lethal. I’ve got a few guesses, but I’ve never been close enough to get a good look.”
“Good luck with that, “Sarbie said as she motioned for Hoc to join her. “We’ve still got a long list of cleaning projects left. They want this place to look like it’s never been used.”
Hoc let out a sigh before he shuffled away from the group. “She’s right; they are pulling out every possible stop to make this place shine like nothing has before. They even hired someone to put gold, silver, and copper filigree into our doors and benches. Don’t get me wrong, it looks stunning, but shouldn’t we spend the money on a more practical cause? There have to be other things that would benefit from this type of funding, right?”
“Probably, but this festival brings in a lot of tourism and taxes, which means those projects will benefit regardless of the churches' direct expenditures,” Sarbie stated.
“This is too much money talk for me,” Hoc said as he returned to cleaning.
“Bait bored, too,” the goblin grumbled. “Let's leave stupid clean church. Smells like lemon, lemon offensive to Goblin society.”
“I hate to agree with Bait, but I don’t want to hear anything more about economic theory,” Mavec said.
“Alright then, we’ll get on our way,” Illaria said before leading the group back out of the church. The field they needed to go to was a relatively large open space west of the river. It was near the city's northern section, and it was easy to see how the river street was being transformed for the festival. Areas of the road had been cordoned off with wooden stakes in the ground and a rope around them.
“If we fail to get into the festival as combatants, maybe we can buy a stall and offer some equipment from ACE Equipage,” Alvec said.
“That would be a good business move,” Illaria responded. “The stalls likely aren’t very expensive since they are pop-up stalls only used during the festival.”
Arriving at the field, it was clear that the construction of the stands was well underway. They were raised about three or four stories high and in a reasonably wide circle. Taking a glance, it didn’t look like they had begun any of the enchanting yet. The first bit would be to ensure no damage spilled into the crowd. That part was easy enough to imagine. Barriers of force would solve that issue easily. The harder one, and Alvec was far more interested in, was how they kept the participants from dying.
While Alvec was busy looking over at the stands being built. Mavec spotted a familiar face in the crowd and broke away from the group quickly. The last year or so of his life had been ruined by this man. He’d swindled and stolen from Mavec’s community, skipping town to leave Mavec to suffer the backlash alone. This pretentious young man, with his smug smile and cocky prim and proper posture, was infuriating. His clothes were well-tailored and made of finer materials. Clean slacks and a pristine silk shirt portrayed the image of a man who wasn’t even good at the craft he professed to practice. Artificy was more than just the designs; it was about the feeling of working with metals and grease, of twisting them in new ways that created fantastic results. Warren didn’t practice the craft; he merely talked about it while others did the real work.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
As he got closer, Mavec was certain this was Warren Alston. He’d know that mug anywhere.
“Warren, Warren Alston, right?” Mavec said as he approached him.
The man looked at him, eyes briefly going wide with recognition before he adopted a false smile. “I’m sorry, have we meet?”
Mavec’s eye twitched as he smiled. “Oh, just a case of mistaken identity, I guess!”
He turned away from the man and took a half step away before he spun around and slammed his fist into Warren’s face. “Remember me now?! I do! Like I could forget your damn smug mug after everything you’ve done to me?”
Warren stumbled backward, clenching at his bleeding nose.
Naya raised her fist in the air and started to holler, “Fight, fight, fight!”
“Should we be stopping this?” Illaria asked her hand already positioned on her sword.
“I’ve never known Mavec to just punch anyone before; I figure there has to be a damn good reason,” Alvec said as he stood back. “Maybe if either of them goes for a spell, but supposing they don’t... I think we just let them punch it out.”
“Wizard fight, Wizard fight, wizard fight!” Naya continued chanting.
The two casters struggled against each other, grappling on the ground. Neither looked particularly good at it, and Alvec was at least reassured neither could kill the other. A small ring of other wizards was gathering around to watch the entertainment. Eventually, a gruff-looking dwarf pushed his way through the crowd.
“What's all the racket about? Break it up, Break it up!” he shouted. The dwarf grabbed Mavec and pulled him from the man that none of the party recognized. Leaving the man to scramble up and walk away as fast as he could. Mavec struggled to escape the dwarf's grip but could not as he grasped for Warren.
“Running away, coward! Warren Alston, a thief, and a coward!” He shouted as loud as he could.
“Alright, kid, you’re coming with me. Let's go talk about this somewhere more private.” The dwarf said, pulling him into a tent nearby. Alvec followed. He had forgotten the man's name, but it was the master of Artificy at Sha-Laial’s academy. Alvec flashed his badge and entered the tent.
“Sorry about this, sir; I’m unsure what got into him. All I know is that he’s never done this before, so I assume there's a good reason,” Alvec said.
“Damn straight, there's a good reason,” Mavec seethed. “That rat bastard stole my designs, passed off his shoddy work as mine, and got me run out of my hometown. He’s a thief, a fraud, and a coward. Fuck him.”
“You have any proof of this claim?” the dwarf asked.
“Yeah, just look under Piquora’s hood; you’ll find some of the same components. Look at the leg joints specifically; that's where I saw the most similarity,” Mavec replied. Alvec raised his eyebrows. The dwarf did as Mavec suggested, popping open some panels and examining how the legs of the robot worked.
“By Sarosa, I’ll be damned. This work looks exactly like the joints he submitted with the academy's Artificy team. We’ll have to explore this allegation more seriously later. For now, though, it's already submitted; until after the tournament ends, there won’t be anyone willing to investigate it. You understand, right?” he asked.
“I understand you don’t want to admit your team uses stolen parts!” Mavec shouted back.
“Mavec, shouting at him isn’t going to be productive. Of course, the academy won’t do anything this close to the festival that might jeopardize their chances of winning. It's the smart business play here, and you know it,”Illaria said.
“Doesn’t mean I have to like it, and it doesn’t mean it's right.”
“Agreed, surely there has to be more we can do,” Illaria stated.
“Well, if you want to kick the tar out of him in a legally sanctioned fight, you could all see about participating in the Festival of Blades. It would certainly put a lens up to Warren Alston. Which, if what you say is true, would not be a good thing for him,” the dwarf said.
“And how much exactly would the entry fee be?” Illaria asked.
“That would be about 40,000 gold pieces. Costs a lot of money to keep those wards up,” the dwarf said.
Alvec nodded in agreement; protecting such a wide area and from so many possible sources of damage meant that it was likely not a single enchantment but dozens of them layered atop each other. Strangely enough, he’d heard people refer to this as the cheese method. Each piece of the defense might have an obvious defect, so you added another layer that precisely compensated for it. Spells as strong as this likely consumed whatever material was used in their casting. Perhaps some rare metal or hard stone was consumed by the spell.
“That's...” Illaria paused as she contemplated how much gold she had on hand remaining. It wasn’t much. Upgrading her gear had been expensive. She had maybe a few thousand gold pieces left, and looking at the rest of the group, it seemed to be about the same situation. Over the last few weeks, everyone had either taken Alvec up on his enchanting or sought specialty items that Alvec couldn’t get. “...a lot more gold than we have,” she said, frowning.
“Well, we’ll need to find forty thousand gold as soon as possible. How long do we have till applications close?” Mavec asked.
“About two weeks, we need to allow for more people to arrive in the city,” said the Dwarf.
“Alvec, what's the play?” Mavec asked.
“We look for someone to sponsor us. Lahzan of the bellforge, the Church of Kushang, a noble house, or maybe even Ben? Forty thousand is a lot of money, and we will need someone with deep pockets in our corner if we can get a sponsor. If not... if not, we’ll have to try to find something which could be lucrative,” Alvec said.
“Ok, so we divide up and seek out these people?” Naya asked.
“I’ve got the church this time,” Illaria stated.
“Bait, go ask Ben. Ben cheese master, he will definitely help his cheese acolyte,” The goblin said as he scampered out of the room.
“Honestly, I’m going with Bait. I’d suggest the academy, but we already know they're in with Warren, so I’ve got no idea who else to ask,” Mavec stated as he rushed after Bait to join him on his impromptu trip to Archer's Market.
“That leaves me Lahzan, which makes sense,” said Alvec. “From one tiefling to another is probably the best bet. I hope he’s arrived in the city already. I’ve got a strong feeling he won’t be missing out on this.”
“Alright, let's all be going,” Illaria said before heading out of the tent.
“It's been a pleasure; please forgive Mavec for his actions. Sounds like that Warren guy had it coming,” Alvec said before ducking out with Naya right behind him. Alvec let out a sigh as he and Naya began the trek through town. Hopefully, at least one group would have luck securing financial support. Otherwise, participating in the Festival of Blades was a dream.