037 - DOING WHAT YOU CAN WITH WHAT YOU’VE GOT
It was late that night that a nervous-looking Mitch opened the side door to the prep area. Following him were two figures, both cloaked and hooded. Conrad rose from his cot and approached the bars.
Mara and Troy took off their hoods and gave him almost identical smirks.
“Handled that fight a little easily for an SOS call, C,” Mara said, the soft twang of her accent musical as ever.
“Imagine our shock,” Troy added, “Coming here expecting to find you dead and instead seeing half the town saluting you.”
Conrad grinned back, it felt good seeing the familiar faces and being able to joke with somebody he didn’t feel like he had to get an angle on.
“That was just the preliminaries,” Conrad said with a sardonic grin, “the real fun starts tomorrow. Be a lot better if you guys could spring me before then.”
“We were wondering about your accommodations...” Mara said as she glanced around the silent preparation area, “What’s happening out here? This place isn’t even on the map so we fell in with some travelers - Refugees? - anyway, thought it’d be better to get more information before announcing ourselves.”
“If only I had been so smart,” Conrad quipped before beginning his story. He told them about the mercenary quests he had taken, following The Tower and their fight, Barrett and the trial, the Arena, and everything he could think of that might be relevant to their situation.
“Bloody told you so,” Troy said, “Didn’t I tell him, Mara?”
“I believe we both did,” Mara said, “Think he’s learned the lesson yet?”
Troy put on a mockery of a thinking face as he rubbed his chin, “Dunno yet could be he needs a few more rounds in the Arena to really make it stick.”
Conrad took the light-hearted abuse stoically. He knew he deserved it. They could go ahead and have their fun as long as he could get out of here.
“Hey, Mitch?” Mara said sweetly, “Think you could be a doll and unlock this here cage for us? Conrad promises he won’t do it again.”
Mitch backed up to the exit door, holding his hands out in a placating gesture and shaking his head. Around them, the other gladiators began to stir.
“Can’t do it,” Mitch said, then corrected, “Won’t do it.”
“Who’re they?” Jace called out sleepily, “Friends of yours, Mitch?”
“Shut the hell up, Jace,” Conrad said, causing the man to wave him off in annoyance before settling back into his cot.
“Mitch,” Troy said, manifesting a sword into his hand, “We’re asking nicely but I’m not opposed to a little hostile negotiation.”
“I can’t!” Mitch said, drawing his own sword but looking scared, “It’s over for me if we let him out, and I’ll have lost everything! The son of Chaos has all my money tied up in him winning in the Arena!”
“Oof,” Conrad mumbled. That was unexpected, his own hook in the man turning into one more means of holding him to the Arena.
“We’ll get you out, too,” Mara said, holding out a hand, “Just give us the key and all four of us will be on our way - new lives await! Fresh start.”
Mitch kept shaking his head as he backed for the door, then suddenly turned and frantically moved to open it.
“Don’t think so!” Troy hissed and darted forward.
But Mitch was suddenly unable to fit the key into the lock. It scraped against the now solid metal of the door where once the keyhole had been, and as Troy closed in a new presence manifested in the room.
The Announcer stood suddenly between Troy and Mitch, causing Troy to pull up sharply and take up a ready stance.
“This is a place of rules, my friends,” the Announcer said, “And when you attempt to break them, please, don’t forget that this place,” it looked around the room and smiled, “And its rules are mine. I hate to change them on you but…” it glanced at the place where moments before a keyhole had been and shrugged, “Circumstances. Don’t make me change them further.”
“Conrad?” Troy said, never moving his eyes away from the Announcer. Mara stepped up beside him, hands crackling with unreleased magic.
A huge sigh escaped Conrad. For some reason, he had never expected the dungeon to interfere. And like it said, this place was its domain and the rules it had set up were entirely its own.
“It’s the dungeon,” Conrad said.
“In the flesh,” the Announcer said.
“Right, well, give you some nice treasure to open up this door for us and we’ll be on our way,” Troy said.
The Announcer smiled warmly, “Oh that does sound nice but I’m afraid I have unfinished business with The Merchant of Death, here. He’s the main attraction to my fine establishment and, well, you can see how I’m loath to just send him on his way. Even for a few trinkets.”
“Besides!” It said brightly, “I have a feeling that keeping him here will nudge you toward generosity in your donations to my, ahem, his cause in the fighting pit.”
“You smarmy little Chaos spawn,” Mara drawled, “How about I burn you to cinders and we force our way out?”
“And ruin my fine suit?” It replied, unafraid.
Then it changed. It grew, limbs lengthening, darkening, suit vanishing to be replaced by skin blackened with red patterns like smoldering fire, and moments later it was no longer the Announcer, but Cataphract that stood before them.
“Conrad handled this form easily enough,” the demon prince intoned, voice deep and grating, “How will you fare?”
Another form grew from the ground to stand next to Cataphract, sand and dirt resolving into a green-skinned, muscular form wearing armor, “And when I bring more warriors to the fight, dozens like these,” the Chieftain growled, “What new threats, what bravado will save you?”
The Announcer once again manifested its own form out of thin air, standing in front of the two Arena warriors, “It is by my decision that the fights in my Arena remain as contests of single combat. But dare to challenge my world and you will find yourselves facing odds that might charitably be called ‘impossible’.”
Mitch backed against the door and seemed to be trying to make himself invisible. Mara and Troy looked uncowed but before they could escalate things further Conrad called out, “Put away your weapons. This isn’t a fight we can win. There’s another way.”
Troy looked around at him briefly and gave him an ‘Are you crazy’ look when the Announcer again spoke, “There he is! The Merchant once again shows his namesake! How shall we all profit from this new venture?”
Conrad thought it over a moment before replying, “Give them free access. No need to involve Mitch anymore - your world, your rules.”
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“That is a starting position I suppose...” The Announcer said, stroking its chin.
He paced his cell, talking with his hands as he worked the problem, “These two are better fighters than me, they’ll coach me, make sure you’re getting the best possible show - but you’ll also get to learn what they teach me.”
“Better, closer, warmer,” the Announcer replied.
“I’m going to need alchemical support,” Conrad said, making eye contact with Mara. She exchanged a glance with Troy, who nodded.
“Potions,” he finished.
“Ah! And of course, some of those will find their way to me,” The Announcer said brightly, “That’s the sort of thing I expected to hear!”
“How about weapons?” Troy asked.
“No!” Mitch called out suddenly, “If he comes out of here swinging a sword they’re going to know somebody gave it to him, and Barrett doesn’t want to give-” he cut off suddenly before continuing, “Barrett prefers to be careful about weapons.”
The Announcer stared flatly at Mitch as it said, “Perhaps you were not lying, Merchant, when you spoke of Barrett and his offerings. A compromise then.”
It turned back to Troy and gestured at the weapon in his hand, “That sword. Leave it here, now. At the conclusion of the 8th tier I will make the Merchant the owner of one just like it,” it twirled its fingers around as if thinking over the idea, “If he survives the fights, that is. Of course.”
The humans all exchanged glances, with both Mara and Conrad settling on Troy, whose sword would decide whether or not the deal was struck.
He shrugged regretfully, “I’ve got two anyway. And you’ll be buying me another when we’re out of this.”
Conrad nodded and Troy planted the sword, point first, into the sand. Immediately it began sinking in and, a few moments later, it was gone.
Cataphract and the Chieftain sank into the ground and vanished as the Announcer smiled, holding its hands out in a grand gesture, “This has been a profitable deal. And now for my part.”
Into its hands, it manifested two small badges with a tiny replica of the Arena stamped onto them. It offered them to Troy and Mara and the two adventurers took them.
“Keep these on you and the normal doors, the same as the gladiators use, will open for you,” it gestured and the keyhole appeared again in the exit, “The world returns to its proper state when we all follow the rules, see? Off with you, Mitch, your part here is finished tonight.”
Mitch did as he was told and slipped out the door, closing it behind him with a click.
“As for the rest of you,” The Announcer said loudly, addressing the gladiators in their cots around the walls, “The Merchant of Death has taught me a great deal about fairness and drama in the Arena. If I should discover that our dealings here have reached Barrett’s ears, your heroic epics may become tragedies sooner than anticipated - do you understand?”
There was a chorus of murmured agreement.
“Splendid!” The Announcer said, “I’ll see you on the sands tomorrow, Conrad!”
He vanished, and the room erupted into murmurs.
“Holy shit,” Jace said.
“You said it,” Conrad told him, “Make sure you keep that mouth of yours locked up.”
“Think I’m dumb enough to make an enemy of the dungeon?” Jace quipped back, “I’m not you.”
“No weapons for another four fights,” Troy said out loud.
Mara added, “And only minimal support. It’s going to have to be skills that carry our hero forward.”
Troy nodded in agreement, “Anything you haven’t invested in yet that might be useful?”
Conrad had earned several hundred experience points in the previous Arena fights. That in addition to everything he had accumulated up to the point had him feeling rather wealthy. He checked over his skill tree and called out a few of his Officer skills, “Some auras, Offensive Aura increases my damage potential, Marching Aura reduces stamina use. Training Aura boosts XP gain. Shield Mastery… obvious, but not going to do me much good without a shield.”
“What other classes did you invest in?” Mara asked.
“Warrior, Fighter, Merchant, and those skills are all from my Officer class,” Conrad replied.
“Not a lot of general skills will be useful here but don’t rule it out,” Troy said as he scratched his head, “I’d say if you can afford it, get all the Officer skills you can. Versatility might be good here.”
He complied, and notifications filled his vision:
Skill Earned
Name: Offensive Aura
Level: 1
Progress to Next Level: 0%
Skill Earned
Name: Marching Aura
Level: 1
Progress to Next Level: 0%
Skill Earned
Name: Training Aura
Level: 1
Progress to Next Level: 0%
“Even Shield Mastery?” Conrad asked as he watched his XP drain by the hundreds.
“Doesn’t seem like a good time to skimp, C,” Mara said.
Skill Earned
Name: Shield Mastery
Level: 1
Progress to Next Level: 0%
“Done,” Conrad said.
“Good,” Troy said, “What’s your sense for what’s coming next?”
“Nobody really knows,” Conrad said, “I’m the first to attempt it,” he thought a moment before adding, “It’s been steadily ratcheting up the difficulty. Nothing particularly hard yet, but each one of the champions I’ve fought has been a little tougher than the one before.”
Troy and Mara nodded to each other and said in unison, “Grind.”
“What do you mean?”
“You finished that last fight too quickly to get much out of it skill-wise,” Mara said, “Sometimes when we go into the dungeon, we pick fights where we can be in control and deliberately use our skills to help level them up.”
“And since we’ll have potions and a day or so between fights for you to recover,” Troy chimed in, “You’ll want to take as many non-lethal hits as you can to help increase your Toughness.”
That didn’t sound like fun. But Conrad knew good sense when he heard it.
“I’ll have to combo basically all of my fighter skills. Adrenaline Rush is maxed out but I’ve been lax on making use of Danger Sense, Second Wind, and Scrappy,” Conrad said.
Troy nodded along to each of the skills, “Scrappy adds a bonus to unarmed combat, could be good to fight hand-to-hand as much as possible. Tire yourself out swinging to level Second Wind, take hits while you recover stamina to help boost Toughness…”
They talked over strategy, going over more ways to power-level his skills into a more useful state.
“We need to get you to that eighth-tier fight. Once you’ve got a sword you should be home free - how about armor?” Troy asked.
From his inventory, Conrad pulled out his new armor, and shared the stats with Troy and Mara:
Iron Contender Armor
Rarity: Common
Description: Flashier than it is defensive, this armor covers only the most vital areas including the heart and neck, as well as partially covering one arm and a shoulder. More useful than fighting naked, but be wary about placing your trust too deeply in it.
Defense Potential: ☆
Merchant Class Bonus:
Would you like additional information?
“Sexy,” Mara said, “Think they make it in my size?”
“If I make it through the eighth tier,” Conrad said, “I’ll be sure to ask.”