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15: Tradition

The morning dawned bright, and Zahn stared at his ceiling for over half an hour past their usual starting time before the other Player knocked at his door. Entering the common area he found crates stacked in a corner and sets of armor laid out on display. Ethan was strapping on something made of metal plates and leather bands tightly bound against his torso. “About time you’re up, pick a set you can wear and get strapping.” Following the Warlock’s pointing finger, the lowbie found what looked like a quilted sweater with belts or a chainmail vest with metal bracers. Looking between the options he found a stab of envy invading his quiet morning.

“Hey, why do you get five sets of armor to choose from and I get two?” Picking up the padded layer he hefted it over his head and struggled against the thicker belt.

“Because,” came Ethan’s muffled reply. “My physical stats have been raised mostly by training myself to the bone every day, so I can wear whole sets of armor in the Tier 2 group that you can’t even touch. That’s everything we could find without a level requirement or class restriction, a gambeson or some chainmail.”

“So, about your demon and the Chaos-”

“No.” The blonde’s reply was abrupt and silenced the other Player. “We can talk about that after. Don’t bring it up before the day’s fights are over, you’ll just distract me.”

Pulling the long shirt down, Zahn tried adjusting the thicker belt to find it cinched itself beneath his tool belt and empty bags. “Useful,” he nodded at the magic effect as he strapped on the two belts crossing from one shoulder to his hip. Ethan frowned at the belt before leaning closer and Zahn saw a silver flash flicker across his irises before disappearing.

“Oh, man. That’s the most basic piece of shit I’ve ever seen, it doesn’t even cleanse you.” Shaking his head, the blonde turned back to his gear. “If and when you do get outta here, first thing you need to do is go buy a Tee-four belt. It doesn’t really matter what level you are to wear whatever belt, it’s just more expensive to get the ones that are actually useful. Whoever gave you that obviously intended for you to upgrade it almost immediately, did you just forget the quest for it?”

Zahn popped open his quests tab on the menu and found them, browsing the list. “No, but I do have one from my old village. A wood-gathering one.”

His friend snorted a laugh as he buckled on bracers, “Yeah, ditch that. You’re a bit far from resource gathering, and if you were lucky enough to start with your own village there’s no reason you’d abandon it before it was built up enough to get its own travel point. What’d you name the thing, Mr. Mayor?” The Custom blinked at him silently, staring long enough for Ethan to look up and notice. “You did get a point going, right?” A silent shake of the head was his only answer. “Did you finish building it?” Another shake. “Did you finish building anything?”

Swallowing the lump, Zahn tried speaking. “We started rebuilding the town hall after raiders destroyed everything, we were on the first quest when I picked up a ‘gather wood’ one.”

Ethan slapped his forehead, eyes closed tight against the sheer stupidity. “And what the Hell possessed you to leave before you got anything done?”

“I died. I was killed by a pack of Hellhounds, led by this little cub baby.” Remembering the small pack still held the same memory of horror that had rooted him to the spot from seeing fire racing towards his face, but he didn’t begrudge the animals killing him anymore. I was way too weak to be wandering around, I really should have kept that former Paladin with me for backup. “You were just saying not to distract you before a fight, and you’re dropping all this on me? Tell me something that will help me instead of just driving up my blood pressure.”

The blonde sighed, belting on a sword and mace set. “And without an altar built, you’re at the mercy of the closest one you can find. Literal proximity, in case nobody’s told you yet.” Zahn nodded along, eagerly taking the information in. “Each time you die you lose half a level and your stuff is saved in that grave. Exceptions being anything soulbound or in dimensional space, but accessing that space usually requires a bag of holding to begin with. Depending on what happened while you were dead, your grave might have some experience in it for you. Any xp or alignment change you’d get for whatever consequences will only apply if you reclaim that grave, so some high-level Players will have graves filled with a bunch of xp and alignment just waiting for them to pick up later.”

Zahn continued nodding, seeing a strategy. “Right, so if they got de-leveled by an enemy or went for it on purpose they could just reclaim old graves and get a bunch of levels at a time and all those sweet stat points.” Ethan eyed him across the hearth, watching the revelation unfold. “Wait so why don’t my graves have any exp in them?”

“You don’t leave anything behind, like an AoE or ongoing effect. You’ll see plenty of both today, just stay alive long enough to see the main fight.” Shaking his head at the lowbie, Ethan stepped around the couches to push him towards the door. “And yes, your alignment has been changing the whole time. That part isn’t reset when you’re de-leveled, in case you didn’t pick up on that part. Nothing adjusts your alignment other than your own choices.”

Zahn stumbled out the doors into the arena to see all the Gladiators were making an appearance. The masses stood around their various exits, nobody entering the massive central ring but freely talking between groups and more than one exchanging punches or pushups in their full battle gear. With the abundance of weapons and metal armor around, the Custom was getting an impression of some motley military come together except for the constant internal showmanship. One wide thug flexed arms fatter around than the Player’s entire waist and still bulged against his armored bands. Following the brute’s line of sight he found none other than Fifth Position Burnato staring down the big man from across the ring, flexing back and mouthing threats at his opponent.

Watching the dance of idiocy and weapons around him made Zahn think back to his days with the resistance, the hours he’d spent leaning against the bags and watching happy freedom fighters celebrating their latest win, or mourning their lost comrades. His illusion snapped with the sound of doors slamming open, and a familiar red-robed individual appeared above his metal skull door among the stands.

“Greetings, my wondrous Gladiators! May there be champions among you all!” The man’s echoing shout rounded the arena before the sands shook with the roar from the fighters answering the Ringmaster. “Wonderful! As is tradition, before the matches for internal rank we must begin the trails for freedom. Speak! Ye who would seek your own freedom, speak now and declare your challenge!”

“I will challenge!” A woman’s voice rang out and Zahn found the fearsome One standing proud with her scythe raised.

“I will challenge!” Came a repeated call, as the tan Two appeared from nowhere and raised a fist up at the master.

“I will challenge!”

“I will challenge!”

Each of the five named positions raised their shouts to their leader, and Zahn felt Ethan’s hand clamp over his own mouth as they spoke. “Not a chance,” came the whisper in his ear as the Custom wanted to laugh. Like I’d deliberately kill myself this morning. Watching his minions declare their challenges, the Ringmaster nodded once the voices quieted down.

“Then begin your duel to determine the order of challenge.”

The five ranked and two other Gladiators stepped into the central ring, and the barrier snapped up to a roar from the crowd. Zahn found himself right at the edge and sent more mana into his eyes to get a better look at the fight. The two random fighters were the enormous man challenging Burnato and a muscly fellow Zahn didn’t recognize holding a massive curved blade in both hands. The seven warriors spaced themselves evenly around the edge before the Ringmaster nodded and tossed a red cloth into the air. As the handkerchief fell towards the sands, the Gladiators sprinted towards one another and One took to the sky.

She rose like a bird, her wide skirted dress flaring as she paused to flutter wide and suspend her in the air above the other fighters. Two vanished, abruptly disappearing as One flew up and the five visible clashed on the ground. The axe and hammer wielders Zahn had the misfortune of meeting weeks past paired up to clash with the nameless swordsman, while Burnato held his own curved sword in his left and summoned the strange rapier to his right.

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One spun on the spot like a pivot in the air, her toes pointed down as she spun round and round weaving her shining blade up and down in circles. With his Mana Vision the Custom could see her casting a yellow colored spell from the blade that seemed to deposit symbols in the air around her as she fed the weapon mana. Each symbol seemed to exist as a reflection within the silver blade before it swept through the air and deposited the same shape on the air to hover and shine with power. The complex spell built with each rotation and by the fifth turn he realized she was going to cast it by the eighth. Looking back down to the field he tried to warn someone about the spell coming down but couldn’t find whose side he wanted to help.

Two had reappeared on the fat man’s back, standing unbothered as the brute swung both meaty fists around himself and Burnato made stabbing holes in his extreme belly a work of pointillism. The other trio danced around one another as the axe swung past to be countered by a sword blade which had to retract to dodge the incoming hammer head. The weapons used were different from the appropriately scaled hammers he’d been able to wield so far, with magical material making wide square hammers more commonly wielded than the practical pointed ones from his old world. The hammer being swung around the battlefield now seemed larger than a cinderblock and made from some rough gray marble veined with black and silver. As the wielder swung his hammer around himself to build up momentum the silver lines began to shine with internal light before the weapon crashed against the sword blocking it, and the shine went out before the sword jolted backwards and out of the man’s hands. The nameless contender scrambled to fetch his blade only to be cut short by the readied axe that cleaved into his back and ended his fight.

By the time Zahn processed the man’s disappearance, One finished her spell. The yellow lights flickered around her and the other five fighters before seeming to pull down against their limbs, quickening her as much as she slowed her opponents. She flew down from her twenty foot height and swung her deadly scythe, its shining blade arcing through the air towards Three and Four. The pair saw her coming and tried to dodge out of the way, moving sluggish against the thickened air around them as their limbs crawled. Before either man could take three steps she was between them, hovering a foot off the ground with her dress shaking in the wind she conjured. A mighty swing of her weapon took the arm off of Three, leaving him screaming as the return stroke took off Four's head. She cackled as her flight turned a circle around the kneeling crippled Three before she took off his other arm and spun away to kill the rest. Zahn watched as the man’s torso heaved and struggled against the bleeding sockets that were his arms. He moaned and wailed as his lifeblood pumped itself away from him, and he fell to his side as the strength to stand left him.

Staring at the felled Gladiator kept him from seeing the first few strikes, but as the Custom’s gaze was drawn to the other side of the ring he saw One swing her massive weapon around and take a slice from the fat brute’s neck. Burnato and Two had backed away, standing on opposite sides and taking slices at One whenever she flew too close. The large man knelt and heaved for breath with a fist against the ground, his other hand missing fingers and blood coating the area. With a diving motion the witch bolted upwards, then spun vertically to come at fatty between the other contestants and carve into his face with the point of her blade. The huge man roared in pain and threw himself backwards to avoid being impaled, landing heavily and rolling to stand before Two appeared at his head and removed it.

The large man vanished as One missed her next strike, the enhanced weapon slowing as Three also expired and the yellow magic’s enchantment faded further. As the Gladiator slowly descended, her aura of enhanced speed weakened enough for Two to catch up and leave a tear in one of the folds in her dress. Spinning her weapon with a snarl drove off the attacker long enough for her to jump in elevation again and leave Burnato out of reach.

Zahn watched the partially air battle with his mouth open, seeing the enchantments on weapons flicker to life with each attack as the fighters triggered their summoned war tools. The difference in how the fifth position thug used his main weapon compared to Marta was incredible, absurd speed and rate at which the massive hulk of a man darted in and out of his opponent’s guard as he landed a series of strikes increasing in power. With both rapier and curved sword, he dealt damage in nicks and grazes as he built up his momentum and began to gain an aura of his own. Two jumped and flickered in and out of view, each time the Custom thought he could track the sneak’s location his eyes would slide off the man and he’d somehow lose the tan shape against the dark stone walls.

As the lowbie watched the duel on the sands he missed the short spell being built in the air, a magical form that crackled with lightning as it came close to release. Both grounded duelists looked up before darting to the sides, taking a bolt of lightning to their limbs and sending each man to their deaths in a second. One landed with a cloud of sand and raised her weapon high to crow her victory. The shouting Gladiators outside the shield roared in applause and cheered their First Position’s battle.

The crowd’s roars’ echoes still shook the sands when the barrier came down and the Ringmaster in his red robes stood again above the doors. He raised both arms high and gestured at the only contestant still standing in the middle circle, “And so we have our first contender! He who takes the Key shall determine who gains their freedom!” With his short speech, the organizer leapt from his railing and fell into the ring, clearing the twenty-thick stack of fighters making up the crowd.

Zahn’s eyes widened as he saw the Ringmaster’s body shift and expand once he landed. The loose robes and doughy frame widened and stretched as he expanded into a packed muscular form with his robes becoming something akin to a tall silk vest. The fat man’s belly had stretched over his considerable torso and his sparse grey hairs now decked the crown of his bald head like the trees atop a mountain. Where before a fat proud paper pusher barked orders now stood a formidable beast of a man, heavily muscled and nearly half again as tall as he’d reached before.

The hulk fumbled a mighty fist into the bag at his side, pulling out a wooden bar that he revealed to be the haft of a mighty halberd, its head wider across than Zahn’s chest. The freed weapon began to glow with a sickly dark green, radiating into lime at the edges and runes engraved into the metal took on the brighter gleam. He waved the great weapon in arcs as he stretched his massive arms and finally brought the strommast to a halt pointed at the heavily dressed witch hovering two feet off the ground.

“Let us begin.” Even the man’s voice had deepened, gaining a reverberation that shook in the Player’s ears.

At his announcement the barrier snapped into place once more and the fight erupted with cheers from the Gladiators on all sides. With Zahn’s magic eyes he watched the green smash into silver and both send the other flying, effects that seemed to leap onto their respective weapons before enhancing the strikes with speed, knockback, flames, even acid if the smoky gel looked right. Each swing from the Ringmaster sent a different kind of attack at One, and though she hovered above the ground she never tried to fly up and cast a lengthy spell like she had against the earlier melee.

Strike after strike clashed between the duelists, ringing out against the dulled roars and cheers of the other fighters to the high-powered display. Zahn turned from the violence to find Ethan next to him cheering on One with a raised fist. “Why did he get so much bigger?” Shouting at the point blank distance got a grimace before the other Player replied.

“Level difference! He went up two tiers! Her level raised his! Shut up and watch!”

Turning back and sending more mana to his eyes, Zahn witnessed the last of the Ringmaster’s empowered attacks as he spun his weapon overhead sending gobs of viscous fluid in arcs before slamming the butt of the weapon down and igniting the pools. One danced high above and away from the attack, her dress catching the air with each jump and letting her stay aloft during the several second combination. As he finished his assault, the final rune on his weapon dimmed and Zahn saw the halberd’s green glows fade and its internal shapes slowly refilling with power over time. One’s scythe weapon didn’t face the same issue, as she swung the silver beacon and activated another rune set on its handle that sent red arcs of flame through the air at the Ringmaster.

Their battle raged for nearly five minutes after the inflated Ringmaster spent all of his abilities. Zahn got to see firsthand the results of attacking without a plan and spending all his resources too quickly in a fight. Before she killed him, the red vested hulk was kneeling in the sands drenched with sweat, unable to hold his weapon as his stamina bottomed out and he gasped for breath. She removed his head with a flourish, causing the corpse to topple before vanishing into nothingness. She held up a fist, which shimmered before being filled with a thick metal key bearing the Collisae logo ‘C’ on its handle. The roars of his fellow Gladiators deafened the Player as they cheered on her victory, celebrating the freedom hard-earned and well-fought.

For a minute he clapped along with them, trying to join the celebration for her freedom and out of his life. Long as she’s gone, I don’t have to face her next month. He clapped and cheered her on with the rest of the fighters before his arms grew tired and he started to question the celebration. The cheer continued, and each time she held the metal aloft again the roars would rise to answer as if she conducted some great band. As the lowbie was trying to get Ethan’s attention about the strangeness, a figure appeared in the stands once more.

“Well fought, and hard won my dear.” The Ringmaster’s voice had returned to its nasally state and he was draped in his robes once more. “And what is your will?”

One held up her prize and recited words as if in a ceremony, “My will is to return the Key to its host so that I may continue to grow.”

The manager nodded slowly, and the Key in question vanished from her grasp before the barrier around the central arena fell. Finally the other Gladiators stopped their cheering, and Zahn stood agape at the show. Ethan clapped his shoulder, knocking him askew and into the stage area as the fighters began to mill around.

“So, what did you think?”