"Names?" A lady sat behind the counter, failing to display a hint of enthusiasm in the current conversation. "I know you're here to register for a tournament, just tell me which one."
"My name is Donovan Strauss, I am here to register the four behind me for the Tournament of Duels."
"What a fatherly squad leader you are." The lady wrote something down in scribbles that were ineligible to Donovan before letting out an incredibly long sigh. "What Army are you assigned to?"
"We are not assigned to an army at the moment. We are a squad formed under a special provision from the Arboreal Maiden." Donovan was suddenly struck with the realization that he was about to have a very difficult time.
"A likely story. If you are going to mess around like that then please leave. I can't be asked to put up with idiots like you when I could be doing something more important."
"I am not lying, ma'am."
"Really? Then why haven't I heard of such a thing? If something like that really happened it would make some waves. Scram before I call the enforcers over."
"Please, ma'am, if you could just check with someone I'm certain you would find I am telling the truth!" Donovan had next to no idea how to handle this situation. He was in the right, he knew that much, but if word of his squad's formation hadn't reached the administrative level then no amount of arguing would ever convince them otherwise.
Of slightly larger concern to him was the damage to his image in the eyes of his men.
"Might I ask what the problem here is?" A vaguely familiar voice intervened.
"Please, this is official Sanctum business, please stand back while -" The lady gasped once she saw who she was talking to. "Lord Trebar!"
"I prefer to be called Trebar, if you would please. I understand winning a tournament comes with certain titles, but it is frowned upon in my culture." Donovan had only really interacted with Trebar once, so he definitely needed to be reminded of his name, but he man had made a somewhat favorable impression on him. He seemed like the sort of flight leader Donovan would want if he ever had to fly into battle.
"O-of course, Sir Trebar!" She was now standing attentively at the counter, the presence of this particular newcomer being a very energizing factor for her.
"Good enough. Now, back to the point. What was going on here?"
"This man claimed that his squad was formed as a special provision by the Arboreal Maiden! I was only just preparing to call for the enforcers to take him away."
"I see... Unfortunately, ma'am, I have to inform you that what this man claims is indeed the case."
"I-is that so?" Her smile was weak and she began to sweat. "T-then I will continue with the process as normal!"
"Thank you. I came here to deliver the notice that would make sure that a situation like this would not arise, so I am quite glad to find I made it in time. Seeing as this is something of a special case, it has been decided that they are to fall under the jurisdiction of my army for the sole purpose of tournament registration."
- - - - -
"Thanks, Trebar, you really got me out of a sticky situation there." Donovan approached Trebar to talk while his subordinates sorted out their own applications. "I don't know what I would have done if I was told off."
"It was my fault to begin with. I had forgotten to inform the registrar of the change to my army's roster." Trebar pulled out a wooden token from his pocket. "This is my army's sigil. Squad leaders generally aren't required to have them, but it will definitely help people identify you if they don't believe your story. Our Army's current standing is Second, so say that you are part of the second army. I will notify you whenever that changes, though there are ways to find out for yourself."
"Really? I assume it has something to do with a tournament?"
"There's a little more to it than that, but for the most part yes. Are you signing up for a slot in the tournament?"
"I've elected to sit this one out. I'm still not at the point where I can use Split in a fight, so there really isn't much for me to gain from it."
Trebar raised a brow. "Nothing to gain? Surely the experience of a fight to the death alone would be enough to bring someone like you into the fold, wouldn't it? Besides, there isn't much difference between those who can use a little split and no split at the extreme low end of the spectrum. Should you demonstrate a sufficient level of skill and tact, even you might be able to mete out a victory or two."
"Hold on, what was that about a fight to the death? Aren't these just duels?"
"Yes, but they usually only end when one party dies."
"What! They go until death?!" Donovan prepared to march over to the front desk to put a stop to this madness before stopping himself. "No, there's gotta be something more to it than just that right?
Trebar, confused at Donovan's panic, took a moment before he realized where the misunderstanding might have arisen. "Oh, they don't actually die, the tournament grounds restore both parties to the state they were in before the fight. The instant that the Great Csillacra detects that the death of a participant is impending, they are 'removed' from the arena."
"So there's no possibility of death?"
"Not entirely, but the deaths I have heard of have all happened due to some incident outside of the ring, usually an exhausted combatant falling on their sword or dying from some form of panic attack." Trebar shrugged, his way of saying that there was nothing they could do about that anyways. "Personally, I think participating would benefit you quite a bit. You don't have any real combat experience. Training is nothing like what an actual swordfight entails, so getting some firsthand experience to prepare yourself for a battle where it matters should be just what you need. It might help you with your training too."
"You really think so?"
"I have to admit part of it is my own desire to see where you are at, but I think you need to feel what its like to take a life with your own hands," Trebar leaned in and started whispering, "especially when you are in an environment where it doesn't matter. If you have problems with killing, they need to be ironed out now. I smell war in your future and I think we can both agree that a leader who can't give the order to end the lives of his own men to accomplish a greater goal. The battle starts now, Donovan."
- - - - -
"Name?"
"Wall of Gilded Earth."
". . . preferred weapon type?"
"Axes and spears."
". . . Okay, your first match will happen three days from now in Arena 103. Arrive before noon and report to the arena's armory. Understood?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Good. Remember, Arena 103. Next. . . Name?"
"Elevial Stri Sanna Di Rei."
". . . preferred weapon type?"
"Wands, Staves, and other tools that assist in the utilization of Split Sorcery."
"Split sorcery?" She raised an eyebrow, obviously very suspicious of that method of fighting. ". . . Okay. It looks like your first match will happen three days from now in Arena 39. Arrive before noon and report to the arena's armory. Understood?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Good. Arena 39. Next. . . Name?"
"Len Kerr."
". . . preferred weapon type?"
"Pile Lance."
"I'm sorry, but I'm not familiar with that type of weapon. Is it somewhat like a normal lance?"
"I suppose, it's just really heavy."
". . . Okay. Your first match will happen three days from now in arena 124. Arrive before noon and report to the arena's armory. Understood?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Good. Arena 124, remember. Next. . . Name?"
"Titanyana Strapper."
". . . preferred weapon type?"
"Swords."
". . . Okay. Your first match will happen three days from now in arena 73. Arrive before noon and report to the arena's armory. Understood?"
"Mhm."
"Good. Arena 73, good luck."
The lady aligned the sheaf of papers she was writing on by tapping them on the desk before placing them neatly in a box.
"Anybody else?"
"Ah, yes. I've decided that I want to take part after all." Donovan approached the front desk, inciting a small frown from the lady.
"Name?"
"Donovan Strauss."
"Preferred weapon?"
"Swords."
"Your first match will happen three days from now in arena 3."
"Thank you."
- - - - -
"Are you sure you wanted to sign up, sir? You can't use split yet can you?" The five of them were walking out of the registration office with Trebar in tow when Sanna asked the question that was on all of their minds. "Besides, what changed your mind? You were pretty adamant about not wanting to fight, weren't you?"
"Trebar has assured me that I won't lose anything by attending, even if I get my ass handed to me. Honestly speaking, it seems I'm likely to get the most value out of getting my shit pushed in this time, so I might as well let it happen. Don't rake me over the coals for it, okay?"
"I would never!"
"No shame in a loss or two!"
"Hnn?"
Two of the three musketeers had a moment of panic, with the third not being awake enough to register that there might have been something wrong.
"Relax guys, it was a joke."
Two secret sighs of relief and another confused murmur, Titanyana only shook her head in disappointment. Where had the bravado of those two gone? Len could be excused, but surely the training sessions weren't that bad. Ever since that first training session, the one where Donovan led them on the run of their lives, their courage to stand up against him, to do something that make him mad, had completely gone out the window.
The only reason she didn't chastise them over it was because she wasn't in a position to judge. She was just as scared of him as they were, if not more.
"Tournament aside, Donovan, I am very interested in how you have elected to train. I can imagine that you might have some difficulties in a position where you don't have much knowledge about CQC with melee weapons." Trebar moved to occupy the space to Donovan's right. There was probably some social significance to the move, but Donovan couldn't see it.
"Physical conditioning."
"Physical . . . conditioning?" Trebar asked the response back to Donovan, not entirely certain if he had heard it correctly. Of course, Donovan's split-speak (his terminology) was very good at this point, so there was no chance of a mistranslation.
"Yes. We do various strength and endurance exercise without the assistance of split. I've found that these guys are practically helpless in situations where they've either exhausted their split or are outclassed, so I felt that increasing their raw physical strength would help. Do you do something similar?"
"I can't say I do." Trebar shook his head, but that didn't mean he wasn't interested in Donovan's methods. "For the most part, the people in the training I take part in are beyond the point where the body can really help. It's mostly technique and strategy. That said, I can very easily imagine that little bit of extra strength and endurance can mean the world at lower levels, no offense to you three."
"None taken sir!"
"I already feel like my armor is lighter."
"I just wanna be able to swing my lance around. . . "
Trebar was getting the feeling that there was a serious disconnect between the members of this squad. A lack of unity was to be expected to some degree, especially one so new, but there was just something off about the way they interacted around Donovan.
"I'm interested in how you run things, Donovan, especially considering the fact you may well come into the fold under my command. If possible, would I be able to attend your training session tomorrow? I might be able to help iron things out and fix any misconceptions you might have." Trebar was going to launch his own little investigation tomorrow. The Montaug had given him the duty of making sure that Donovan's career proceeded without issue, or otherwise find a good enough reason to sever relations with him.
"Really? Are you sure? Don't you have more important things to do?" Donovan didn't think that someone with as high a rank as Trebar could afford to waste his time like that.
"It's fine, I've got nothing to do anyways. I need two days to stock up on split for the tournament and I've no need to do anything administrative until the next Army level tournament. Most of the divisions can take care of themselves for any small issue, and I wouldn't dare call for a training exercise so soon after the last Army tournament. Would you mind if I brought one or two of my squad mates with me? I want to see if I can arrange some sort of system to help further the lady's skills."
"That sounds like a great idea! Titanyana, what do you think about that? I know I've been stifling you for a while now, but do you think this is a good idea? I think we agreed that your training would be mostly up to you, right?"
"Mhm. I'm okay with that."
"Great, I'll see you tomorrow then. What time does training start?"
"""Before first light."""
"What?" The response from the three usual suspects was unified, beat into them both figuratively and literally.
"Yeah, I couldn't exactly tell if there was some sort of clock system here, so training starts before the Great Csillacra or whatever is in charge of the day night cycle turns on the lights. I expect them to be finished eating and prepared to start our warm up the instant I can make out the shape one of the maids draws in the dirt the night before."
Trebar allowed himself to remain silent in disbelief for a moment before he continued. "I can't say we can arrive quite that early, but I'll try to get them up as early as I can."
"Names?" A lady sat behind the counter, failing to display a hint of enthusiasm in the current conversation. "I know you're here to register for a tournament, just tell me which one."
"My name is Donovan Strauss, I am here to register the four behind me for the Tournament of Duels."
"What a fatherly squad leader you are." The lady wrote something down in scribbles that were ineligible to Donovan before letting out an incredibly long sigh. "What Army are you assigned to?"
"We are not assigned to an army at the moment. We are a squad formed under a special provision from the Arboreal Maiden." Donovan was suddenly struck with the realization that he was about to have a very difficult time.
"A likely story. If you are going to mess around like that then please leave. I can't be asked to put up with idiots like you when I could be doing something more important."
"I am not lying, ma'am."
"Really? Then why haven't I heard of such a thing? If something like that really happened it would make some waves. Scram before I call the enforcers over."
"Please, ma'am, if you could just check with someone I'm certain you would find I am telling the truth!" Donovan had next to no idea how to handle this situation. He was in the right, he knew that much, but if word of his squad's formation hadn't reached the administrative level then no amount of arguing would ever convince them otherwise.
Of slightly larger concern to him was the damage to his image in the eyes of his men.
"Might I ask what the problem here is?" A vaguely familiar voice intervened.
"Please, this is official Sanctum business, please stand back while -" The lady gasped once she saw who she was talking to. "Lord Trebar!"
"I prefer to be called Trebar, if you would please. I understand winning a tournament comes with certain titles, but it is frowned upon in my culture." Donovan had only really interacted with Trebar once, so he definitely needed to be reminded of his name, but he man had made a somewhat favorable impression on him. He seemed like the sort of flight leader Donovan would want if he ever had to fly into battle.
"O-of course, Sir Trebar!" She was now standing attentively at the counter, the presence of this particular newcomer being a very energizing factor for her.
"Good enough. Now, back to the point. What was going on here?"
"This man claimed that his squad was formed as a special provision by the Arboreal Maiden! I was only just preparing to call for the enforcers to take him away."
"I see... Unfortunately, ma'am, I have to inform you that what this man claims is indeed the case."
"I-is that so?" Her smile was weak and she began to sweat. "T-then I will continue with the process as normal!"
"Thank you. I came here to deliver the notice that would make sure that a situation like this would not arise, so I am quite glad to find I made it in time. Seeing as this is something of a special case, it has been decided that they are to fall under the jurisdiction of my army for the sole purpose of tournament registration."
- - - - -
"Thanks, Trebar, you really got me out of a sticky situation there." Donovan approached Trebar to talk while his subordinates sorted out their own applications. "I don't know what I would have done if I was told off."
"It was my fault to begin with. I had forgotten to inform the registrar of the change to my army's roster." Trebar pulled out a wooden token from his pocket. "This is my army's sigil. Squad leaders generally aren't required to have them, but it will definitely help people identify you if they don't believe your story. Our Army's current standing is Second, so say that you are part of the second army. I will notify you whenever that changes, though there are ways to find out for yourself."
"Really? I assume it has something to do with a tournament?"
"There's a little more to it than that, but for the most part yes. Are you signing up for a slot in the tournament?"
"I've elected to sit this one out. I'm still not at the point where I can use Split in a fight, so there really isn't much for me to gain from it."
Trebar raised a brow. "Nothing to gain? Surely the experience of a fight to the death alone would be enough to bring someone like you into the fold, wouldn't it? Besides, there isn't much difference between those who can use a little split and no split at the extreme low end of the spectrum. Should you demonstrate a sufficient level of skill and tact, even you might be able to mete out a victory or two."
"Hold on, what was that about a fight to the death? Aren't these just duels?"
"Yes, but they usually only end when one party dies."
"What! They go until death?!" Donovan prepared to march over to the front desk to put a stop to this madness before stopping himself. "No, there's gotta be something more to it than just that right?
Trebar, confused at Donovan's panic, took a moment before he realized where the misunderstanding might have arisen. "Oh, they don't actually die, the tournament grounds restore both parties to the state they were in before the fight. The instant that the Great Csillacra detects that the death of a participant is impending, they are 'removed' from the arena."
"So there's no possibility of death?"
"Not entirely, but the deaths I have heard of have all happened due to some incident outside of the ring, usually an exhausted combatant falling on their sword or dying from some form of panic attack." Trebar shrugged, his way of saying that there was nothing they could do about that anyways. "Personally, I think participating would benefit you quite a bit. You don't have any real combat experience. Training is nothing like what an actual swordfight entails, so getting some firsthand experience to prepare yourself for a battle where it matters should be just what you need. It might help you with your training too."
"You really think so?"
"I have to admit part of it is my own desire to see where you are at, but I think you need to feel what its like to take a life with your own hands," Trebar leaned in and started whispering, "especially when you are in an environment where it doesn't matter. If you have problems with killing, they need to be ironed out now. I smell war in your future and I think we can both agree that a leader who can't give the order to end the lives of his own men to accomplish a greater goal. The battle starts now, Donovan."
- - - - -
"Name?"
"Wall of Gilded Earth."
". . . preferred weapon type?"
"Axes and spears."
". . . Okay, your first match will happen three days from now in Arena 103. Arrive before noon and report to the arena's armory. Understood?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Good. Remember, Arena 103. Next. . . Name?"
"Elevial Stri Sanna Di Rei."
". . . preferred weapon type?"
"Wands, Staves, and other tools that assist in the utilization of Split Sorcery."
"Split sorcery?" She raised an eyebrow, obviously very suspicious of that method of fighting. ". . . Okay. It looks like your first match will happen three days from now in Arena 39. Arrive before noon and report to the arena's armory. Understood?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Good. Arena 39. Next. . . Name?"
"Len Kerr."
". . . preferred weapon type?"
"Pile Lance."
"I'm sorry, but I'm not familiar with that type of weapon. Is it somewhat like a normal lance?"
"I suppose, it's just really heavy."
". . . Okay. Your first match will happen three days from now in arena 124. Arrive before noon and report to the arena's armory. Understood?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Good. Arena 124, remember. Next. . . Name?"
"Titanyana Strapper."
". . . preferred weapon type?"
"Swords."
". . . Okay. Your first match will happen three days from now in arena 73. Arrive before noon and report to the arena's armory. Understood?"
"Mhm."
"Good. Arena 73, good luck."
The lady aligned the sheaf of papers she was writing on by tapping them on the desk before placing them neatly in a box.
"Anybody else?"
"Ah, yes. I've decided that I want to take part after all." Donovan approached the front desk, inciting a small frown from the lady.
"Name?"
"Donovan Strauss."
"Preferred weapon?"
"Swords."
"Your first match will happen three days from now in arena 3."
"Thank you."
- - - - -
"Are you sure you wanted to sign up, sir? You can't use split yet can you?" The five of them were walking out of the registration office with Trebar in tow when Sanna asked the question that was on all of their minds. "Besides, what changed your mind? You were pretty adamant about not wanting to fight, weren't you?"
"Trebar has assured me that I won't lose anything by attending, even if I get my ass handed to me. Honestly speaking, it seems I'm likely to get the most value out of getting my shit pushed in this time, so I might as well let it happen. Don't rake me over the coals for it, okay?"
"I would never!"
"No shame in a loss or two!"
"Hnn?"
Two of the three musketeers had a moment of panic, with the third not being awake enough to register that there might have been something wrong.
"Relax guys, it was a joke."
Two secret sighs of relief and another confused murmur, Titanyana only shook her head in disappointment. Where had the bravado of those two gone? Len could be excused, but surely the training sessions weren't that bad. Ever since that first training session, the one where Donovan led them on the run of their lives, their courage to stand up against him, to do something that make him mad, had completely gone out the window.
The only reason she didn't chastise them over it was because she wasn't in a position to judge. She was just as scared of him as they were, if not more.
"Tournament aside, Donovan, I am very interested in how you have elected to train. I can imagine that you might have some difficulties in a position where you don't have much knowledge about CQC with melee weapons." Trebar moved to occupy the space to Donovan's right. There was probably some social significance to the move, but Donovan couldn't see it.
"Physical conditioning."
"Physical . . . conditioning?" Trebar asked the response back to Donovan, not entirely certain if he had heard it correctly. Of course, Donovan's split-speak (his terminology) was very good at this point, so there was no chance of a mistranslation.
"Yes. We do various strength and endurance exercise without the assistance of split. I've found that these guys are practically helpless in situations where they've either exhausted their split or are outclassed, so I felt that increasing their raw physical strength would help. Do you do something similar?"
"I can't say I do." Trebar shook his head, but that didn't mean he wasn't interested in Donovan's methods. "For the most part, the people in the training I take part in are beyond the point where the body can really help. It's mostly technique and strategy. That said, I can very easily imagine that little bit of extra strength and endurance can mean the world at lower levels, no offense to you three."
"None taken sir!"
"I already feel like my armor is lighter."
"I just wanna be able to swing my lance around. . . "
Trebar was getting the feeling that there was a serious disconnect between the members of this squad. A lack of unity was to be expected to some degree, especially one so new, but there was just something off about the way they interacted around Donovan.
"I'm interested in how you run things, Donovan, especially considering the fact you may well come into the fold under my command. If possible, would I be able to attend your training session tomorrow? I might be able to help iron things out and fix any misconceptions you might have." Trebar was going to launch his own little investigation tomorrow. The Montaug had given him the duty of making sure that Donovan's career proceeded without issue, or otherwise find a good enough reason to sever relations with him.
"Really? Are you sure? Don't you have more important things to do?" Donovan didn't think that someone with as high a rank as Trebar could afford to waste his time like that.
"It's fine, I've got nothing to do anyways. I need two days to stock up on split for the tournament and I've no need to do anything administrative until the next Army level tournament. Most of the divisions can take care of themselves for any small issue, and I wouldn't dare call for a training exercise so soon after the last Army tournament. Would you mind if I brought one or two of my squad mates with me? I want to see if I can arrange some sort of system to help further the lady's skills."
"That sounds like a great idea! Titanyana, what do you think about that? I know I've been stifling you for a while now, but do you think this is a good idea? I think we agreed that your training would be mostly up to you, right?"
"Mhm. I'm okay with that."
"Great, I'll see you tomorrow then. What time does training start?"
"""Before first light."""
"What?" The response from the three usual suspects was unified, beat into them both figuratively and literally.
"Yeah, I couldn't exactly tell if there was some sort of clock system here, so training starts before the Great Csillacra or whatever is in charge of the day night cycle turns on the lights. I expect them to be finished eating and prepared to start our warm up the instant I can make out the shape one of the maids draws in the dirt the night before."
Trebar allowed himself to remain silent in disbelief for a moment before he continued. "I can't say we can arrive quite that early, but I'll try to get them up as early as I can."
