Xangô POV: Day 69

Current Wealth: 24 gold 48 silver 14 copper

After my shock at the council’s building, I was more than a little eager to just hurry my way back to the others and take it easy. Life was never so nice as to make things like that possible, though. I returned to a fair amount of chaos.

Solitaire had been busy with his magical training, and Beam had been busy with a lot more. The two of them were hastily explaining why, exactly, they’d dropped dozens of silver on random piles of metal scrap and bizarre clumps of material. That was when Argar barged in.

The giant was in an unusually good mood even for him, grinning broadly and eying the entire room, twitching with anticipation as he prepared to speak.

“Elswick.” He declared. “I was an idiot to forget it, Elswick. The Elswick that hosts a melee every year, eh? That giant tourney with all the best fighters in the surrounding nations gathering around for it, it’s starting in a few weeks.”

I was interrupted in soaking the words up by Solitaire cackling and patting Beam on the shoulder.

“Excellent, I have about a million things I can show him to sway him over to our side. Having a smith like him will be very helpful, good work!”

It took me a moment to realise he was ignoring Argar, talking instead about his and Beam’s outings over the day. Argar looked a shade irritated at being so handily dismissed.

“Are you listening to me?” He growled, Solitaire glanced at him, irritated himself now.

“Of course I am, I’m listening to everything, all the time, whether I want to or not. You’re suggesting we put ourselves up to enter this big bout, right? Well forget it, the competition in something like that will crush us, we’d be better served directing our energies to other things.”

Argar opened his mouth to speak, and Solitaire interrupted.

“No, you can’t take them. You’re in the top percentile of Redaclans, in terms of sheer statistical prowess, but a tournament drawing in people from as big an area as you just described will be looking at a sample size orders of magnitude larger than that. Thousands, tens of thousands, maybe as many as millions. Which means that the best among them will be in the top percentile of the top percentile. Get it?”

Argar was a clever enough guy, but Solitaire had used a few too many modern words, and it showed. He sighed as the giant eyed him.

“If you’re one in a hundred, we don’t have a chance because this tournament is attracting a big enough number of competitors that anyone who gets close to its end is likely to be one in thousands or more.”

The giant snorted.

“Bah, there isn’t a man alive who can take me, just throw me in and see what happens.”

While he was blustering his way into having Solitaire start reenacting another feral animal attack, I was considering the idea. My thoughts towards it were a shade less egoistic than Argar’s, and rather more practical.

“Aren’t you working on some godly metal, though?” I asked Solitaire, and saw his face spasm that way it always did when someone made a good point at him. As if the very muscle fibres beneath his skin had been wounded upon hearing it.

“I’m working on modern day tool steels.” He replied. “Good metal, very good metal, but if you’re asking whether it’ll let Argar beat some of the sorts I’m expecting to show up, no. Fuck, you’ve already met at least one person in this city alone who’d wash him, right?”

That much was true, and I sighed. Beam cut in then, though.

“What about me?”

We all turned to him, and I found my friend seemed somewhat eager. No, not somewhat, entirely and unabashedly eager. He was barely grinning less than Argar.

“No offence.” Beam said to the giant. “But I’m the best fighter of us all, where do you reckon I’d rank in the grand scheme of things, Solitaire?”

Solitaire eyed him, clearly not impressed.

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“Not high enough, I’m telling you, this isn’t a winning proposition for us.”

It looked like I was in for another long bickering session, then, but Helena rescued me from its clutches. She cut into the conversation, speaking with that icy, scythe-like way she always did, calm and candid as she nudged every other voice aside.

“I happen to know a thing or two about the tournament that you might all find interesting to hear.” She volunteered. Obviously that had all of our attentions captured near-instantly, and she didn’t hide the smug grin that sprouted along her face at the knowledge. “It is famous, like Argar said, but it’s famous for more than one reason. For commoners it’s a source of free entertainment, but the wealthier attendees have been betting on the outcome of its matches for years.”

We all considered that, Solitaire quickest of all.

“Alright.” He said. “We’ll enter it, then, when exactly will it take place?”

It never took him long to make a decision, and it never took him long to move past one either. I suppose I’d seen that demonstrated well enough recently. A shiver ran along my spine as I piped up.

“What sort of money tends to get exchanged?”

Helena shrugged.

“A fair amount, it depends on the circles you bet in but we’d certainly be able to make a nice profit depending on how much we put in and at what odds.”

“I said we’ll do it already.” Solitaire sighed. “This just became a maths problem, essentially. If we can risk our money at the benefit of multiplying it, then we should. As things are now we have the means to make extra income by selling gunpowder, the losses won’t hurt much, but a victory will put us weeks, maybe even months ahead of schedule depending on the payout we manage to take home.”

It would also mean putting Beam out into the public eye, and risking that the world realise our growth rate. Solitaire eyed me before I could say it, a fractional nod conveying instantly that he’d already considered the idea.

But Helena and Argar were present, we wouldn’t be discussing it in front of them. I bit my tongue.

“When will the metalworking be done, anyway?” Argar grunted. “I quite like the idea of some miracle plate.” He eyed Solitaire, lip curling suddenly. “It won’t explode, will it?”

Solitaire grinned, and didn’t answer .

“We’re better off getting the smith, right?” I asked. “When will you do that?”

He shrugged. “Could try now, really, all I’m doing is flashing some designs in front of him, just letting him know there’s more where the other stuff came from should bring him over, right? Everybody wants things from the future.” His lip curled. “Except Twitter.”

“Work on that quickly then.” Beam cut in. “I want him with us sooner rather than later.”

Solitaire sighed.

“Always something more for me to do, isn’t there? Every-”

I saw where he was going, and decided to cut in and save us all a very long and tedious rant.

“Yes, Solitaire, we all know what a poor, tortured genius you are, you can complain about how tragic it is for you to be capable of doing transatmospheric propulsion calculations in your head once you’ve gotten us our blacksmith, just hurry up and do that first.”

He glared at me. “Fucker.”

I glared back. “Prick.”

Beam eyed both of us, shrugged, and turned to Argar.

“Well, we don’t have as much to do, fancy a quick spar outside?”

The giant grinned again, and the two of them headed out. I glanced at Helena.

“Watch them, will you?” I asked her, and she rolled her eyes.

“They’ll probably be through to ask that I give Argar a hand, soon, anyway.” The woman grunted, following them out.

The moment they were gone, I turned to Solitaire.

“You’re really sure about just gambling to make money?” I asked, not hiding my uncertainty. He didn’t hide his bulletproof confidence, either, grinning widely as ever.

“Not really, no, but I’m sure about it being probable to give us our best odds in the long haul. Everything I said still stands, right?”

I sighed, sitting, nodding.

“You just want to build your fortress.” I noted, eying him. Solitaire shrugged.

“We all have our little weaknesses. What can I say? I’m a creator, at heart.”

Right. A creator, provided one defined creation as the art of turning floorboards into death traps capable of ripping someone in half. I didn’t meet his eyes as I pondered things.

Solitaire, being Solitaire, knew what I was thinking, and knew, more, what I was feeling. His voice rang out with the perfect tone to project the perfect words.

“It’s a while away, anyway.” He noted. “We can have a think on this, see if any other options come up, it doesn’t all need deciding right this instant, eh?”

Raising my head, I looked at him, and found myself…confused.

“How can you be this?” I asked him. “How can you…Fucking, how can you know exactly what you need to say to help me, and always do it right when I need it saying? How can you be so…Good. And still…”

A screaming orc, thumbs compressing eyes, the smell of optic fluid and sludgy blood staining the air. A friend’s face twisted unrecognisably with glee. Words failed me.

They didn’t fail Solitaire.

“It’s simple.” He replied. “You’re a good person, the people here aren’t.”