Xander was not called back that day, though he did stay to watch the various fights. He found it fascinating to see the variety of skills that were on display. Some people seemed to have ended up with narrow specializations, only able to use skills of one element or another, or focusing on only a single type of weapon, while others were able to throw out a dazzling array of abilities and effects, or used multiple types of weapons depending on how their fight was going. There were even a few people who used no weapons at all, having skills that empowered their own bodies, as well as their punches and kicks.
By the afternoon, the first round of the tournament had concluded, and the number of hopeful competitors has been halved. As people and fighters trickled out, Xander considered what he’d seen for the day. Comparing himself against the other competitors that had won their fights, he was decidedly on the less flashy side when it came to his abilities. He wasn’t able to shoot flames out of his hands, or instantly raise columns of stone to block a blow. Instead, he relied on his preprepared equipment, his runically enhanced artificial body, and his passive abilities. He wasn’t worried about things like being burned, electrocuted, or even poisoned as one fighter had done to another, since these things would not affect him beyond damaging his cosmetic silicone shell.
The things that were concerning were abilities that would tie him down or people who could completely outfight him. He’d seen one robed skill user completely encase their opponent in ice, ending the match immediately. The healers had had to request the man to break the skill before they could tend to their frostbitten charge. Gabrelle had been part of that group of healers. Various other abilities, from sticky webbing to magically manifested ropes and chains had seen use to varying degrees of success. He’d also seen some men, dwarves, and a singular elf, who had consummate mastery of their weapons and were able to overcome their opponents through various means. Some had been extremely tough and strong – one had defeated their opponent by throwing them over the walls, as going outside them was disqualifying – while others were incredibly fast and light on their feet, using dexterous strikes and finesse to disarm their opponents and strike pinpoint blows to disable them.
Going over the concerns he had, he made a short list of things he could do to alleviate some of his worries. He’d definitely need to wear his cloak. He was already kicking himself for forgetting to wear it today. If he’d ended up going against someone who could create sticky webbing, he could have ended up completely subdued and glued to the ground. He’d also want to add a layer of flame runes on his armor that he could pump mana into if he needed, melting any ice he might find himself encased in. Against the fighters who were physically strong, he’d want to be able to be heavier, making it harder to move him or throw him around. Arrays of weightiness runes he could power when desired would help solve that problem. Against those fighters that were faster than him, he was coming up short for a runic solution. He wasn’t sure of any kind of way to accelerate his thinking or his movements past what he was already at. Which meant he would need to slow them down to his level or outlast them and wear them down with the few hits he might be able to get in. As he sat in the stands, waiting for the crowds to clear out a bit more before leaving, he thought over his options. If he didn’t have runes for the problem, what else did he have? Flashbangs were certainly an option. Disorienting his opponent would allow him to get hits in, but what if that didn’t work on everyone? He himself was immune to them, so it was not unreasonable to assume that someone else might have an ability that let them shrug off disorientation or even fight blind. If he could manage it, binding them with the chain was also a solution, but he wasn’t sure he’d be able to wrap it around someone who was an order of magnitude faster than him. What else… oh! The glue concoction and poison he’d purchased recently.
Poison, as long as it was not immediately lethal, was explicitly allowed in the rules of the tournament, as there were many skills that incorporated some kind of poison or toxin in their effects. The paralytic poison he had could be added to the blades he’d hidden in his forearms. If the old lady alchemist he’d bought it from was correct, even a small cut that got the toxin in it would begin to slow down an opponent, allowing him to get even more hits in, until they were unable to function. The glue, if he could manage to splash it or land a hit with a bottle and shatter it, would hopefully help as well. It wouldn’t stick them to the dirt, unfortunately, simply caking a thick later of soil on their boots, but it could potentially gum up the joints of armor or limit mobility by binding their arms partially to their bodies or clothes. And once it dried on their clothes and to their skin and began to harden, it would restrict them even more as their clothing stiffened. He didn’t have time for it in a single night, but creating a modified version of his flamethrower that would instead shoot out the sticky, fast drying material would be an excellent nonlethal crowd control weapon. For now he’d have to settle with bottles. He considered directly manifesting the material from his hands in a fight, but he decided it would not be advantageous to glue his hands to his opponent.
With the stadium finally emptied out enough for Xander to comfortably leave, he stood and began the trip back to the inn, where he’d meet his teammates. The area outside the stands was still crowded, and the merchants were also still out in force, selling food to bystanders who had grown hungry while watching the fights. He even saw a couple of the more popular contestants signing autographs for people. One was signing his name to a decorative looking piece of clay that was still wet, which Xander assumed would be fired for some kind of permanent memento, while another was using a dagger to carve his initials into the brass crosspiece of a young man’s sword.
The crowds thinned the further away he got from the temporary stadium, people branching off to various parts of the city. No longer constantly being jostled by strangers and doing his best to make sure that he didn’t accidentally trample anyone with his new body, Xander was able to speed up his pace. Soon, he was back at the inn, where he found the rest of his team at a table, already celebrating his victory.
“Hey, there’s our winner!” Frazay called out, holding a mug up towards him, as she spotted him entering the building.
The rest of the team cheered and held up drinks as well, as Xander moved to sit with them.
“Good show out there,” Graffus commented to him as he got to the table. “You dropped that lug like a sack of rocks.”
“Thanks,” Xander replied. “I was pretty worried for a minute there when he sank my feet into the ground and rushed me… There’s just something terrifying about seeing someone that size coming at you and swinging a giant sword.”
“Well, I think you handled it pretty well,” Gabrelle said.
“Here here!” Atrax raised his mug again in agreement with Gabrelle.
“So how do you think tomorrow will be?” Frazay asked.
“Uhm, I’m not exactly sure,” Xander said. “I tried to pay attention to the matches after mine and come up with some ideas for things. I have a few that I can implement, I think, but it’s still a toss up. I feel like now it’ll be getting into the matches where the people who really know what they’re doing are going to shine. And I haven’t exactly been in the game for as long as them. But I have some tricks up my sleeve, as they say. Like being able to take a dagger through the skull and keep on fighting,” he said with a small chuckle.
After the celebration, where, thankfully, no one over drank this time, Xander found himself in his shared room starting the process of his tournament ideas. Gabrelle was busying herself with creating some poultices that she could use for injuries that weren’t worth a healing skill on the other side of the room while Xander began adding another layer of runes to his armor. This layer was nothing but flame runes and arrays to channel his own mana, and such did not take him too long to laminate onto his armor. Gabrelle hadn’t been paying too much attention to the process, engrossed in her own work, and so she was quite taken by surprise when Xander’s helm burst into flames as he tested the runes out. Startled, she stood up quickly, almost knocking her own supplies onto the floor.
“What was that?” She asked, concerned, as the flames disappeared from the helm.
“Oh, sorry. I should have warned you… just some flame runes I can turn on in case someone tries to encase me in ice. I saw someone do that in the tournament, so I wanted to make sure I didn’t lose like that. Everything else I’m gonna work on should be less, uh, disruptive, though. Sorry again.”
“Oh… I suppose that makes sense,” she replied, still a little frazzled by the sudden startlement. She rearranged her supplies as she sat back down and slowly restarted her own process. “But let me know if you’re going to do something like that again, please.”
“I will, promise.”
The weightiness runes he wanted to add would go onto his own skeleton rather than his armor, so that he could modify his weight even when outside of his armor. He felt like it could be a handy trick to have. The process took a little bit longer than the flames runes due to him having to get to the skeleton in the first place through the silicone and touch sensing layer of leather as well as the awkward angle of working on himself. But after about two hours, he had the empty spaces on his skeleton engraved with arrays that would allow him to increase his weight, making it harder to push him around. Once that was complete, he spent some time making and bottling the glue he’d recently discovered. He already had plenty of flashbangs. Gabrelle had long since finished her own work and was lounging on the bed, lazily swapping between reading a book and looking at what Xander was doing.
As he stood up Gabrelle asked, “All done?”
“Mm? Oh, yeah,” Xander replied. “Think I’ve got everything I need, or at least that I thought of.”
“Good, because it’s getting late. Some of us actually have to sleep, you know!”
“Shit, sorry,” Xander apologized. “I guess the time got away from me. I wish I still had my watch… wait. I can just make a new one, can’t I?” Xander slapped the size of his head in realization. Using [Schematic], he spent the hefty chunk of mana to create a copy of the watch he’d [Analyze]d on his first day on Tillania. The time was completely off, he suspected that it was the exact time that he had [Analyze]d the watch, but it felt nice to have it again. He’d change the time next time he found a clock somewhere.
As he got into bed and Gabrelle curled up against him, she said quietly, “You really did do well out there today. We’re all proud of you for putting yourself out there in front of everyone and competing, you know.”
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Xander took her hand for a moment and squeezed it gently. “Thanks. I really mean it. It feels… good, to know that I have you all there for me in the stands.”
The next morning, Xander headed out to the tournament early. He wanted to beat some of the crowd, and he also just wasn’t sure what else to do. It was likely going to take most of the day still to go through the next set of rounds, so he didn’t want to start anything else.
Sitting in the competitor’s section of the stands, which was currently sparsely populated, Xander looked out at the arena floor. He wondered who he’d be matched against. He supposed it made sense not to tell people who they’d be matched up against to prevent people from preparing too much for any one particular opponent, but it was quite frustrating not knowing what to expect. As the morning wore on, more contestants and fans began to make their way into the stands. By midmorning, the arena was full, and the fights were ready to start.
The first two fighters to be called were both robe wearing caster-type skill users. They met in the center of the arena and then backed away from each other, and as the gong rang, each of them began to throw skills at the other as they did their best to dodge, block, or disrupt their opponent’s skills. With the amount of movement and deflection of skills going on from both parties, the barrier specialists were finding themselves frequently intercepting projectiles that went wide. Surprisingly, the crowd seemed to love it, uncaring that the only thing between them and catching a fireball to the face was a group of increasingly annoyed skill users protecting them.
One of the fighters finally got a lucky hit in on the other, distracting them with a large orb of some kind of ghostly green flame that he flung at his opponent. As the other caster was busy using their own skills to alter the course of the ball of flame and deflect it from hitting him, the one that had cast the green fireball had followed up with a crackling bolt of lightning which burst through the green fireball that had been acting as a distraction, striking the loser in the chest. The stricken man was thrown from his feet by the force of the skill and lay crumpled on the ground where he’d landed, unmoving. As the crowd cheered and the gong range, signaling the end of the match, several healers ran out to attend to the prone man. Unable to immediately get him back on his feet, he was swiftly dragged off the field, where even more healers crowded around him, kneeling to assess him, or hovering around. Several minutes later, after the start of the next match, Xander noticed the healers on the sidelines throwing up their arms and cheering for themselves. The man who’d been struck by the lightning had finally been brought back to his feet.
Roughly halfway through the tournament, Xander’s call to take part in the next fight came. He’d been growing tense waiting for it to happen, to the point that it was somewhat of a relief to know he’d be next rather than becoming nervous. He moved out of the stands to the waiting area, where he was joined by his opponent, a woman wearing loose fitting clothing and bearing no weapons. She must be one of the fighters that he’d noticed used no weapons of their own, either being casters or having skills that empowered unarmed strikes. Unfortunately, Xander was not able to tell which of these categories the woman fell into.
As the woman reached Xander, she surprised him by sweeping into a formal bow and saying, “It will be a pleasure to fight with you today. My name is Treyanna, may have your name?”
Feeling awkward with the formality, Xander returned the bow as best he could in his armor before replying, “Ah, it’s Xander. Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise. I would wish you luck, but I’m sure you’ve no need for it, and I’ve no wish to call misfortune upon myself by wishing luck upon my opponent,” the odd woman said with a chuckle.
“Uhm, thanks anyways. It’s the thought that counts, right?”
Their conversation was interrupted by the gong ringing, signaling the end of the match and the beginning of their own bout. As the two previous fighters vacated the field, Xander and Treyanna moved to the center of the field and then split, as seemed the standard for the tournament. Xander took his position on the field, readying his chain. Treyanna’s posture was neutral, still not giving Xander a clue as to what her area of focus might be.
The gong rang, but Xander held off on attacking just yet. Treyanna had yet to make a decisive move either, the two beginning to circle each other at a distance. Realizing that Treyanna was content to wait for the first move to be made, Xander decided to launch a probing attack, hurling the ball at the end of his chain weapon at the woman. As soon as Xander loosed the attack, Treyanna’s hands snapped up in a defensive posture, and Xander was surprised to see her slap the metal ball away. Some skill must be allowing her to ignore the effects of the electricity as well as being able to deflect a fast piece of moving metal with her hands in the first place. Xander was confident now that Treyanna was an unarmed fighter, and she confirmed this even more as she began to duck, bob, and weave around the chain as Xander slung it around, attempting to hit her with it. Despite his best efforts, all of his attacks were blocked or dodged as Treyanna closed the distance between them.
Now that the advantage of distance had been removed, Xander once more switched to holding the weapon like a flail, taking up the slack in his off hand. As Treyanna continued rushing towards him, no longer slowed by having to dodge Xander’s attacks, he struck out with the flail, timing the strike to when she would enter his reach. However, as the attack drew closer to her, Treyanna twisted herself out of the way, her body and movement speed empowered by skills to allow her feats of athleticism that no ordinary person could achieve. As she twisted to avoid Xander’s weapon, one of her hands shot out, striking Xander’s own hand.
Somehow, Xander felt the chain of the weapon slip out of the hand that Treyanna had struck. He had no idea how - he had had a firm grip on the chain, and as far as he could tell, the strike had not managed to force him to open his hand. Regardless of how it happened, the head of the chain was now free flying, propelled by Xander’s attempted strike. Before he could react to the situation, before the head of the weapon fully took up the slack and would have been stopped by his off hand, Treyanna lashed out a kick, her balance unimpeded by her twisting dodge. The kick struck Xander’s off hand, and once again, he felt the weapon slipping from his grasp. She must have some kind of skill that allows her to disarm an opponent, he thought to himself. She didn’t give him time to think much beyond that, though, as she immediately followed up her disarming of Xander with a solid punch to the chest, staggering him several steps back.
Had he possessed a set of lungs, Xander likely would have been winded. As he did not, he was able to recover from the strike quickly. As Treyanna followed up on her strike, trying to keep herself within striking distance of Xander, he swung a backhand at her as he regained his balance. Then, he did three things as close to simultaneously as a person can do. First, he activated his weightiness runes to prevent Treyanna from throwing him off balance as easily with her strikes. Second, he activated the arms of his backpack, all eight of them springing to life and extending, which fluttered his black and gold spidersilk cloak from the movement. Thirdly, he startled Treyana by manifesting his bone shield onto his offhand, which was the hand that he had swung at her. She had been expecting a simple, flailing strike and had easily moved to duck under it. The sudden appearance of the shield, turning it from a backhand into a full on shield bash, startled her, and, unable to correct her duck to avoid the shield, she was struck in the face by Xander’s shield. The force of the blow tumbled her backwards, though she turned the fall into a roll, quickly returning to her feet as she rolled backwards.
Wary once more after the sudden shift in the fight, Treyanna was now facing a Xander wielding a shield, and noticed with amazement as a mace seemed to materialize into his other hand. Eight limbs, four of which ended in wickedly sharp points, were splayed out from his back. The two went back to circling each other, looking for an opening. This time, Treyanna broke the circling, sprinting towards Xander with her incredible speed. Xander raised his shield in anticipation, holding his mace at the ready as his runically enhanced weight allowed him to settle even deeper into a defensive posture. He wasn’t expecting Treyanna to grab the edge of his shield as she reached him. It was unclear to him whether she had intended to throw him over her shoulder by using the shield as a grab point or to actually break the shield, but either way, the shield was ripped clean from the handles holding it to his arm and went sailing behind Treyanna. The woman, capitalizing on Xander’s loss of his shield kicked out at him again, but this time wasn’t able to move Xander due to his increased weight. Xander attempted to grab her leg with his now free arm to hold her in place as he swung his mace at her, but once again, she was too fast for him. She withdrew her leg before he could grab it, and once again disarmed him with one of her skill enhanced strikes. Throughout all of this, the woman was dodging and deflecting strikes from Xander’s backpack spider legs.
The two of them were at a stalemate. Xander had lost two weapons to the woman, and expected that even if he managed to get to one of them and pick it back up, he’d quickly find himself disarmed again. Despite disarming him, Treyanna was unable to land a decisive blow on Xander, his armor and runic body able to absorb the force of her punches and kicks. Once again, the two of them separated, Treyanna backing off for a time to prevent one of Xander’s spider legs from getting a lucky hit in.
Xander considered what his next course of action should be. He could try hitting her with a bottle of glue, but he doubted that the woman in front of him would allow herself to be hit by a glass jar. She was too fast, and even if he was on target, he felt that she had the speed and agility to catch the thing midair. What he needed was the paralytic poison he’d considered the previous night. Frustrated with the situation, Xander stripped off his gloves, exposing his hands, which caused Treyanna to grin.
“Going to try fighting fire with fire?” She asked, sounding amused.
Her amused expression turned into one that was a mixture of confusion, disgust, and horror as two blades penetrated out from Xander’s forearm through his skin with a metallic rasp and a click as they locked into place. Passing his hands over the blades, they came away dripping in paralytic poison as he readied himself once more. In each hand, he manifested a flashbang, clutching them tight in his fists, which now sat below his two arm blades.
Treyanna recovered from her visceral reaction of seeing her opponent slide two, large blades from his skin and brought herself back into her own ready stance. Xander slowly approached, fists raised and at the ready. Though still somewhat disturbed by the blades, and concerned about the mysterious liquid that they had been coated in, Treyanna was confident in her ability to fight at close range like this, fist to short blade. Unfortunately for her, Xander was counting on her being confident in this situation. At the two clashed, Xander relied on his armor and heavy body to tank through punch that she aimed at him as soon as he came within range. As her fist struck his chest armor, causing her to lean forward a bit into his punch, he opened both of his fists and detonated the flashbangs.
Suddenly blinded and deafened by two extremely bright and loud explosive devices, Treyanna reeled backwards as she felt the blades her opponent wielded inflict two deep cuts before she could back away out of range. One opened a gash on her shoulder and the other sliced along her ribs. Shaking her head and doing her best to use the peripheral vision available to her that wasn’t a giant sunspot, she navigated away from Xander as she regained her bearings.
Xander watched as the poison did its work. Within a couple of minutes, he could tell that she was slowing, and between that and the aftereffects of the flashbang, he was able to land more and more cuts on her arms and legs as she tried to defend herself from Xander’s relentless advance. Once she stumbled to the ground, limbs becoming uncooperative from the poison coursing through her veins, it was over, and Treyanna knew it. Rather than suffer more of the poison or some other form of attack, she weakly raised her arms in surrender and called out, “I yield! I yield,” as she slowly tried to stand and continue backing away.
Xander backed off immediately, not wanting to continue the fight any more than would be sporting, and he heard the gong ring out in response to his opponent’s surrender. A trio of healers trotted out to the woman, quickly cleansing her of poison and beginning to heal the various cuts on her body as they walked her off the field. Once he had collected his fallen weaponry and stashed it in his inventory, Xander made his own way from the arena, heading back to the stands as the crowd continued to cheer his victory.