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Champions of Battle: The Very Best – Opportunity #16

Jaquan sat with Justice at the bar in his celebrity cabin.  They talked extensively about the upcoming tournament.  From what Justice was saying, these fights were going to be particularly difficult.  As such, Jaquan wanted to know everything.  Every now and again, he even caught himself fidgeting in his stool.  Was he actually nervous about this?

The Great Champion Jaquan Zu had not been nervous about a challenge for the longest time.  Of course, he never thought that he could lose for the longest time either.  If Justice and Neely were correct, these fights had “next level” written all over them.  This tournament would challenge him to become the best, the very best in the entire world.  Any and all of his past experiences could be called on to do well in the next few months.

Liana was in the cabin, but was too busy to pay attention to them.  She had promised Neely mech armor and was across the room building it now.  It was not nearly as advanced as her suit, but it would aid him greatly in combat.

Neely sat with them.  He was listening in though he didn’t say much.  He hardly engaged in small talk with anyone except Catlin.  He was slightly distant from the topic.  He would not do any fighting in the tournament.  However, he would help Jaquan any way that he could.

Catlin was still in the shuttle working on Brisa.  With her talent sets, she found Brisa immediately.  After that, her disguising enchantments and disarmingly cheerful and charming personality would get all the information they needed.  They needed to know the better details of Brisa’s mission.

There was still a great chance that Brisa was unable to help them or simply would not help them.  Brisa may not forgive them for scaring the life out of her.  If there was any chance of her helping them, they needed Catlin to pull through.

Whether or not Jaquan got news coverage on his travels, he needed to know more about his challengers.  “Why would these fighters be any different than the contenders I beat already,” Jaquan asked.  For the longest time he thought his championship was proof that he was already the greatest in the world.  For the last few days, Justice and Neely have suggested a different story.

“These fighters don’t care about money or titles,” Justice said with all certainty, “they just want to be the best they can be.  In your championship fights, a fighter has to be willing to give up a lot of gold for a chance at your title.”

The corrupt gold factory behind the scenes of his championship title was nothing new.  Technically, any fighter with a good enough record was in the queue to face the champion.  However, it always seemed that the ones willing and able to dish out extra gold were moved to the front of the queue.  The promoters, managers, and venues all loved getting paid, the firestorm of angry calls after he left for West Drop told him that much.

Thinking back, Jaquan didn’t want to say anything about the corruption.  He got a small cut and he knew that he would eventually fight all the contenders eventually.  His only objection was that his championship fights became formulaic.  Often times, the fighter with the most money had less than the greatest skill.  After a while, the fights became just plain easy.  Until now, he just thought it meant that he was that good.  This new tournament promised to be full of skilled fighters.  They only wanted to improve and were hungry to be the greatest.  The concept of joining the fray gave him stomach jitters.

Jaquan remembered when he followed the simple path.  Defending the championship became a simple matter of playing against a single fighter’s weakness.  In tournaments like this, that was never enough.  There was no way to prepare for thousands of different possible talent set combinations and the dozens of strategies involved with each one.  Enchants and gear choices added an additional layer of randomness to the fights.

To excel and compete, each fighter had to simply become the best they could.  Studying your next challenge was always advised, but each fighter always had several different styles and at least one trick.

He was excited about this.  The prefight chills told him so.  No doubt, there would be some new and interesting strategies.  The fighters were always looking for a way to take step up the ladder.

Jaquan had a lot of researching to do.

#1 – Opportunity #15 – Opportunity #17

Sons of Sword: Tales of Glory – Lost and Found #12

Being a Thermal Master, it took little time for Teal to get the fires started.  The bakery warmed up quickly, but Manna knew not to get too used to the heat.  Everyone in the back had their part to play.  Only Manna and Teal had energy skills but they were most likely hired because of their abilities.

Manna took a look at the three balls of dough and chose one at random.  They all would be used for something soon.  It didn’t matter which one was first.  It was the one to his left today.  The other two were pushed to the right.

Flour stored beneath the counter was spread everywhere to prepare the first victim of the rolling assault.  Manna lifted his hands and concentrated a little.  At his mental command, two rolling pins flew from the rack across the bakery.  Just as they reached his hands, they stopped.

They hovered in midair waiting for his next command.  His magnetism skills did not allow him to manipulate wood.  However, there was just enough steel in the core of the rolling pins for him to move them easily.  While they hovered in the air, Manna spread additional flour onto them.

Teal returned from the fire pit below the bakery.  He used his thermal energy skills to keep more of the heat in the oven.  Before long, the bakery would cool down as Teal “borrowed” heat from the bakery and “gave” it to the oven.  Even still, it would take some time for him to adjust the oven temperature to the perfect setting.  Manna had just enough time to get the dough ready.

It had already been separated into even smaller portions and flattened thoroughly.  Manna’s hands moved commanding both rolling pins to press and roll the dough faster and harder than any Crisho could with pure muscle strength.  In no time it was spread to the edges of the counter flattened to just the right amount.

Pilar had already prepared the cinnamon mixture for the folds.  It sat on a table at the far side of the counter.  She stood waiting holding six hand sized circular dough cutters.  As Manna set the rolling pins down, Pilar tossed the dough cutters at him.  She tried to surprise him with them differently each time.

Just as Manna turned his head, he saw them and stopped them in the air.  “And I thought the cinnamon rolls were nuts,” he said jokingly.  Pilar said nothing though she stuck out her tongue.

The dough cutters were a lot easier to handle than the rolling pins.  They were completely made of steel and obeyed his commands even without his hand motions.  The circular cutters moved just as he wanted.  Soon the leftover dough was lifted revealing a large counter filled with thin circles of dough.

Surprisingly, Pilar moved just as fast as Manna did.  Seeing her work was much like watching a film at double speed.  In no time, the cinnamon mixture was spread onto the circular cuts of dough.  They were then stacked into three layers and folded into their traditional star shape.  Now ready for the oven, they moved onto the next ball of dough.

——

Spear Mint Academy: Stream Quarter Training Center

Metcalf left the shooting range in slight frustration.  Isabaeu was very kind and perhaps a new friend.  However, the contest was far too easy.  Isabaeu tried to put up a good fight.  It seemed they gave a lot of Academy Points for classroom practice as well as application.

Metcalf was not at all upset at Isabaeu.  She was upset at herself for not believing enough to take the big risk.  She had to admit, she may have done the same thing five times in a row given the same circumstances.

All that was in the past, Metcalf got her points.  She was almost to a safe student ranking where she could leave the training center and let everything slide for the rest of the day.  She needed about two or three good scores and she would be done.

Scanning the faces, she saw a new face that looked very familiar.  This one was beaming with inexperience he even lacked the basic armor.  Then it hit her, “Is that,” she started asking herself a question but thought it easier to check on her handheld.  She focused the holographic image to the bottom of the student rankings.  She was right.

It was Lance.

#1 – Lost and Found #11 – Lost and Found #13

Champions of Battle: AD7 – Awakening #16

AD7 returned to the group after the most important of tasks.  Her body signaled a short while ago that she drank quite enough water.  Walking back to the others, she had a little trouble moving naturally.  Perhaps it was a side effect of her recent reanimation.  However, she moved far better than the average champion would after rejuvenation.

GarDNAnge1 still waited for Cyd to finish working.  His shift had less than an hour left.  Oyintsa and Royal seemed the most tired of waiting, but wait they must.  Cyd was a rare find.  He knew much more than they ever could about rejuvenation.  He had studied the particulars of all the talent sets.  He also hated his job and wanted to go somewhere else.  They had this one chance to make sure he went with them.

As AD7 reached the couch, Tirzah made a suggestion based on her team’s complaints.  “Oyintsa, Royal, why don’t you take our friend outside and show her around while we wait,” she said.

They both stood up immediately; more than happy to do something, anything other than sit around.  AD7 was anxious to see what was outside as well.  The rejuvenation center was dark but nice and very clean.  She wanted to see the city that housed such a building.

As they reached the door, Royal tucked her hair back into her cloak preparing to raise her hood.  Oyintsa lifted his hood then turned to AD7.  “Just so you know friend,” he said in a solemn tone, “the city has changed a lot for the worse.”

AD7 heard him but didn’t listen.  She had already reached the solid metal doors eager to see what was on the other side.  The doors opened quickly as she pulled with surprising strength.

She was not prepared.

She walked out, staring in disbelief at the sight that assaulted her.  Weed stalks grew through cracks in the street.  Dead leaves and other debris were scattered everywhere.  The buildings that used to be houses and shops only served as fences for random plants growing through them.

However, she saw much more than what was apparent.  She also saw the city as it once was.  The weed stricken streets, every gutted house it was all hers once, hers and beautiful.  She could hear the echoes of children playing.  This city held great beauty but it was gone, all of it gone.

The memory hit her hard.  She had planned these streets and built them.  Her machines cut each pebble in the gravel road to fit together perfectly without the use of mortar.  The road she had finished was perfectly smooth.  She used to look at it in awe every time she went into town for supplies.

She had designed each house and shop personally.  Each was designed to the specifications of the owners.  Each of them was colorful and clean, as individual as the people that lived in them.  This city was beautiful, once.

A tear forms in her eye.  How long had she spent designing all the houses, the streets?  Enough time to drive the normal person crazy.  Perhaps she would have been crazy if not for her helper.  It was all for nothing.  Everything she had built was destroyed by time and neglect.  Now crying at the remains of her lovely city, she asked “How long was I out?”

“About forty five years,” Oyintsa replied.  He remembered Tirzah telling her that.  Perhaps she was so swamped with the new information that some of the minor details slipped from her.

“How did this happen,” AD7 continued, “M.. my wall… should have protected them.”  Then she remembered.  The wall!  She looked to the right, the general direction it used to be.  When she had left it, she could barely see it over the houseline.  Now, it was a dominant piece of the distant sky line easily towering over the distant trees.  Still, it too was in disrepair.  It even had a few missile-explosion sized holes in it.  “How long did it hold?”

“It lasted for a really long time,” Royal said.

“The fortress only fell about ten years ago,” Oyinsta added

AD7 thought of thirty five years of fighting.  She had no idea her helper was capable of the inhuman battling that must have taken place.  “My helper must have fought hard,” she said finally.

“Your helper,” Royal asked.

“I built her to help me build,” AD7 answered.  “She was a like part of me…or part of me,” AD7 stammered for a bit.  “It’s hard to explain,” she said finally, “She helped me talk to the machines but, she wanted… I can’t remember,”  AD7 said, truly wishing she could.  She tried hard to bring up the memory but it refused to appear.  She knew it was important but could not remember the simple fact.

At that, the three of them walked down the stairway and headed towards the populated areas.  They passed by what passed for a market it held little that was worth buying.  There was little here to attract bandits, much less keep them away.

As they walked, AD7 realized that Bosstown’s glory was far beyond reclaiming.  It would be best to stay with GarDNAnge1 and help them as best she could.  Wait, did he call my wall a fortress?

#1 – Awakening #15 – Awakening #17