by M E Robinson
“I aint opening them any further. There’ve been attacks recently. I can’t risk having the gate fully open,” the guardsman informed them, his head appearing above them once more.
With a sigh, Eric slid through the open gate, followed by the rest of the group, with Griffin taking up the rear. Grunting as he exerted himself, Griffin just barely managed to squeeze his large frame through, glaring up at the guardpost above as he finally made it through the gate and into the town.
“Now you folks behave. I don’t want Commander Slade havin me head for lettin ya inside,” the guardsman yelled from above, earning irate stares from the group as they left the gate behind and headed deeper inside the town.
The town was quiet, the villagers taking advantage of the early hour to get some sleep. The occasional player could be seen nearby, but for the most part, Vindammer Town was quiet. Looking at the houses nearby, Eric let out a low whistle of appreciation. The houses were done in the medieval style, with two to three story houses made of wood and brick lining either side of the main road. A cobblestone road lead deeper into the town. Following the road, the residential area began to give way to shops and other establishments, where even at this early hour, a livelier attitude persisted. A drunkard lying outside what appeared to be a tavern was muttering as they passed, saying, “Cut me off. Only had a few drinks. Not more than a drop…”
A soft, muted hammering noise came from a nearby smithy, the forge silent in the early dawn. A couple of men were hanging out in front of a window, glancing at a selection of pies and other baked goods that a plump bakery worker was placing inside as she gave them a knowing smile. There were shops selling armour, shops selling books, windows with various cauldrons and other instruments Eric had never even seen before stacked in heaps, jewelry laid out on white cushioned pillows, magical goods emblazoned with glowing runes, and potions of various colours all displayed for passersby to see.
“Is that a shop for magic books?” Gio asked curiously, pointing to a nearby shop with a sign saying Manticore Magic Books and Supplies - Beginner To Advanced Magical Items.
“Looks like it. Damn, towns really are different,” Ryan replied.
Taking in the sights, the group continued to make their way through Vindammer, searching for a sign as to where they should head for the tournament. Reaching the town square, they decided to take a rest, sitting on the steps of the fountain that dominated the center of the townsquare. In the distance, a towering circular wall could be seen, dwarfing the nearby buildings as it rose above the nearby houses and monuments.
“This place looks like something out of Beauty and the Beast,” Griffin remarked offhandedly.
“It’s definitely nice. I could see myself retiring someplace like this,” Eric agreed, receiving small nods of agreement from the rest of the group.
Searching around the square, Ryan noticed a large square of wood on the other side of the fountain, partially obscured from view by the flowing water that bounded out from the hilt of a sword, held aloft by a stone knight that served as the centerpiece of the fountain.
“I think I see a noticeboard. Lemme go check if there’s any info on the tournament there,” Ryan informed the group, jumping from his seat and jogging over.
“I told you we should’ve just asked the guard,” Gio muttered.
“Dude was a dick. He probably would have given us the wrong information just for fun,” Eric said with a yawn.
“True…”
Running back, Ryan waved his arms toward them.
“Guys! Registration will be held at the arena!” Ryan shouted.
“Which is where?” Jun replied.
Skidding to a halt in front of them, Ryan pointed towards the large circular building in the distance. “That’s the arena. Supposedly it’s called the Wine Hammer Arena. It’s run by a group called Novarena.”
“Who cares what it’s called. Let’s just get there and register. I wanna get some more sleep,” Jun replied, stifling a yawn as he did so.
As the group approached, the impressiveness of the arena’s size became much more evident. While it couldn’t compare to famous arenas such as the Roman Colosseum or Wimbledon, it was still by far the biggest building any of them had seen in Fate so far. Standing nearly four stories tall, the arena dwarfed many of the nearby shops and houses, its brick walls casting a long shadow over the streets as the sun rose behind it. Various stalls were set up near the entrance, with signs such as Harald’s Haddock Sticks, Kora’s Candy Apples - Five for a Srick, and Dom’s Whisky, advertising the wares that would be available once they opened for the day.
Heading for the entrance, they were stopped by a tall, white-haired guard, holding a spear.
“Arena opens at nine. Entry is forbidden before then,” he informed them.
“When can we register for the tournament?” Eric asked, stepping forward to confront the guard.
“Which tournament? There’s a dance tournament later today, but registration is already closed. And then the militia is hosting a tournament on the seventeenth. There’s also a swordsmanship exhibition on the twentieth,” the guardsman explained.
“The militia one.”
“You can register once the arena opens at nine. As long as you register up to two hours before the tournament begins, then you’re fine.”
Thanking the guardsman, the group made their way back to the fountain steps. Agreeing to register on their own and then meet back up before the tournament, the group split up. Jun logged off, while the rest of them went off on their own to explore the town.
Vindammer Town was truly bigger than Tonbura in every way. Anything Tonbura had, Vindammer had more of them. There were more blacksmiths, fletchers, and bakeries than there were in Tonbura. The shops all had bigger selections than in Tonbura, and Vindammer had more specialty shops than Tonbura had. In fact, the only thing that Eric thought Tonbura might have the edge in was magic and sleepy guards. He thought this last bit to himself rather quietly, as the number of guards patrolling Vindammer’s streets was no joke, and one had just stared at him for an awfully long time, as if afraid he might go on a rampage and set fire to the nearby shops, or perhaps swoop in and give him a kiss.
Regardless, Eric could definitely tell that the portal lady who’d sent him to Tonbura from the tutorial hadn’t been kidding when she’d said there was more to do in towns. Seeing the scope of Vindammer Town, Eric couldn’t help but wonder to himself just how huge the city must be if a town was already this big.
Checking the time, Eric hastened back towards the arena. The sooner he registered, the sooner he could resume training for the tournament. Because of this fact, for what may well have been the first time in his life, Eric arrived early to sign up for an event.
Eric was slightly surprised to find that even at this ungodly hour there was already a line forming outside the arena. Of course, normal people may not have considered nine in the morning to be all that early, but to Eric, it was shocking to see this many people already waiting in line. Stepping into the queue, Eric waited patiently to be admitted into the arena. Nodding to the guard who’d spoken to the group earlier, he entered into a shadowy passage, emerging into a brightly lit room where another line had formed in front of a counter where a pretty, young woman was serving those in queue.
“It’s lines all the way down,” Eric grumbled to himself, lining up once more.
Arriving in front of the counter, Eric was confronted by a pleasant looking blonde woman who flashed him a bright smile. “Here to register for a tournament?”
“Yup. I’d like to register for the militia tournament on the seventeenth,” Eric responded.
“Alright, could you please place your status stone under the scanner?” she directed, pointing to a crystal array next to the counter.
Taking out his storage pouch, Eric placed the dark black crystal underneath the scanner, which emitted a dim light that pulsated briefly before disappearing. Going dormant for a moment, the crystal suddenly glowed once
more, projecting Eric’s status for the clerk to see.
[Status]
Erick Kystfyr - Level 21
Health: 300/300
Mana: 300/300
Title: Corporal
Weapons: Fine Yew Longbow - (20 Fine Goose-feathered Iron Arrows, 20 Stone)
Common Iron Falchion
Quickwind Dagger
Armour: Leather Padded Armour (Common)
Skills: Basic Magic (Arcane, Fire, Wind, Water)
Basic Martial Arts (Journeyman 2)
Militia Spearmanship
Militia Swordsmanship (Apprentice 9)
Basic Archery (Apprentice 9)
Basic Evasion (Journeyman 8)
Basic Herbalism
Basic Speechcraft
Active Skills:
Evasive Shot (Apprentice 4)
Charged Shot (Beginner 10)
Sword Technique - Guard (Apprentice 1)
Sword Technique - Dashing Cut (Apprentice 9)
Magic:
Basic Arcane Magic (Journeyman 6)
Arcane Strike (Journeyman 2)
Arcane Blade (Beginner 7)
Arcane Dart (Beginner 10)
Basic Fire Magic (Beginner 8)
Flame Strike (Beginner 5)
Multi-linked Flame Strike (Beginner 2)
Basic Wind Magic (Journeyman 3)
Wind Blade (Apprentice 1)
Wind Dart (Apprentice 8)
Multi-linked Wind Dart (Beginner 6)
Basic Water Magic (Beginner 1)
Water Strike (Beginner 1)
Water Blade (Beginner 1)
Water Dart (Beginner 1)
Chime
Ball of Light
Pointer
Arcane Formations (MAX)
Basic Novanalba Mana Technique (Journeyman)
Seeing this, the blonde clerk smiled. “Thank you for registering, Mr. Kystfyr. Would you like to be referred to by name during the tournament? Or would you like to use a nickname? You will only be referred to by nickname during the final rounds of the tournament.”
“Call me Kyp, please,” Eric replied.
Pressing her hand against the status floating in midair, a ring on the blonde’s right hand flared briefly. As the ring dimmed, ‘Kyp’ appeared between his name on the status, which slowly began to fade as she turned back towards Eric.
“Can anyone else see that?” Eric asked curiously, pointing to the fading status window.
“All information you’ve shared will be kept strictly confidential. Novarena is committed to upholding the highest standards of participant information and will not disclose any private information to others,” she replied in a serious tone. “The main reason we need your information is to ensure the safety of all participants and to maintain the fairness of the competition. The magic used to ensure fighters safety is fairly powerful, but sometimes we get participants who are far above the standard. Taking precautions by checking the abilities of the fighters is as much for our benefit as it is for yours,” she explained, in a slightly more friendly tone.
“Makes sense,” Eric replied thoughtfully.
“If it makes you feel any better, your stats are pretty good,” she whispered, giving him a conspiratorial wink.
Eric smiled awkwardly. “Thanks. Is there anything else I need to do?”
“Did you want to represent an organization? As a member of the militia, you’re not allowed to represent any non-affiliated organizations or institutions. But you can choose to represent groups affiliated with the militia such as the Rimestone or Seaflame circles, or the Gall Óglaigh mercenaries. You can also choose to represent an otherworlder group. Would you like to declare yourself a representative?”
Pondering for a moment, Eric let out a grin, “I think I’ll be a representative of Riptide, if that organization name isn’t taken.”
The lady’s ring flared once more, a few small windows appearing in front of her eyes.
“Riptide is not currently a name in use by any group. Would you like to represent Riptide?”
“Please.”
“Done! Please be here before two o’clock on the seventeenth to participate. Will that be everything today?” she asked pleasantly.
“Yup, I’m good thanks,” Eric responded, giving her a smile as he allowed another person to take his place at the counter.
Slipping back towards the entrance, Eric exited the arena, smiling as he stretched broadly.
“Now that all the bureaucratic stuff is out of the way, I can get back to training,” Eric muttered, breaking into a grin as he headed for the western gateway. He had just over thirty-six hours in game to train for the tournament, and he didn’t intend to waste a single moment.
Chapter 23
Twirling the Quickwind Dagger between his fingers, Eric smiled as the arena came into view once more.
“It’s time to d-”
“You finish that sentence and I’m unfriending you,” said Ryan, appearing next to him.
Eric pouted. “Killjoy.”
“I’m not letting you ruin our reputation in another game,” Ryan retorted.
“Says the guy who’s been getting famous for PKing people with Jun. Plus it was mostly Jun and Rob in Blue Desert.”
“True. Remember that time they camped that Wizard and then we ended up fighting two guilds over a low level grinding spot all because the Wizard was talking shit?” Ryan asked, reminiscing about days gone by.
“Haha yeah, good times,” Eric replied, his eyes losing focus as he thought back to those halcyon days.
“Anyways. You ready for the tournament?” Ryan asked, changing the subject.
“You bet. I’ve been working on a new technique,” Eric replied with a grin.
“Same. Does it work yet?”
“Well no,” Eric admitted. “But theoretically it should be pretty powerful.”
Ryan laughed. “Sick. I actually managed to create a new skill yesterday.”
“Damn, you actually managed to create a new skill?” Eric asked enviously. “Nice! Was that with your swordplay group?”
“Yeah. I’ve been working on a new move for a few days, and yesterday I finally managed to make it a skill.”
“Cool. What skill?”
“Not telling. You might have the chance to experience it firsthand later though,” Ryan replied with a smirk.
Eric rolled his eyes. “Any other members of your sword group going to be participating?”
“A few of them yeah.”
Eric grinned. “Any Kiritos? Sabers? Zoros?”
It was Ryan’s turn to roll his eyes. “They’re not all named after anime characters you know. But yeah, a few of them should be participating.”
“A few of who?” Mark interjected, joining the pair standing in front of the arena.
“Ryan’s swordplay buddies.”
“Any of them we should watch out for?” Mark asked, raising an eyebrow towards Ryan.
Stroking his chin, Ryan looked up thoughtfully. “Tafita, Zwei, and Asuna are probably the best ones. Kiritwo and Mikasa would be the others, but I’m not sure if either of them are participating.”
“Alright. Well, if any of us get matched up against them, I’m counting on you to tell us how to beat them,” Mark replied, earning a laugh from Ryan.
“Are the rest of the guys here yet?” Mark asked, changing the subject as he turned to Eric.
“Not sure. I just arrived. Griffin told me he’d logged out inside the arena though, so there’s a good chance they’re waiting inside,” Eric replied.
“Yeah, Gio and Rob should be there already. I had to visit a blacksmith to get my sword sharpened before the tournament began so they went on ahead,” Ryan added.
“Alright, we should head in then,” Mark replied, checking the time in his status window.
Making their way inside, the trio chatted about their expectations for the tournament, joking about how easily they were going to advance through to the finals, and speculating on who they were likel
y to fight.
Reaching the doors to the arena proper, Eric whistled loudly as they walked out into the open air. The arena was packed full of people. Hundreds of people of various heights, sizes, and races were milling about in the center of a large field of dirt. Surrounding the field were row upon row of stands, providing seating for well over ten thousand people from what Eric could tell. Looked up at the slowly filling stands, Eric could see various newcomers trickling in, finding seats and sitting down to watch the chaos unfolding on the grounds below.
Searching through the crowd, the trio began to hunt for their missing friends, scanning the milling players for their companions.
At the center of the arena stood a raised dais upon which three figures could be seen, two tall and one small.
“Damn tournaments,” one of the tall figures muttered, staring down at the gathered participants.
“I woulda thought that the three-time winner of the Order of the Frost Knight’s Grand Tourney would’ve appreciated them a bit more,” the smaller figure teased.
“I don’t think there’s anything that Alistair really likes,” the third figure added, smirking towards the first figure as he did so.
Alistair sighed. “Too many damn people all come together to watch a bunch of grown men act pompous and self-important for a day. If some of the knights that participated would put half as much effort into their actual duties as they did dressing up to impress the ladies before they get spilled on their asses, then the kingdom would be in a much better state.”