On the path to Zedlei Forest, we had come across a shady looking clan with a few new races which weren't at all familiar to us. Ritz turned to me and pointed to a short, snouted figure which bore an uncanny resemblance to a pig. "What is that fat thing?" Despite his stature, he was wielding an intimidating-looking gilt axe which looked to be half his size and twice his weight.

"I'm not FAT!", he yelled from the far end of the path. He raised his axe and summoned a thunderbolt to strike Ritz. So it knew magick. Luckily, Cecelia, our Summoner, who was also well-versed in the arts of the White Mage erected a simple shell around Ritz. The bolt bounced harmlessly off of the clear barrier and dissipated.

The Bangaa pointed his Materia Blade at the other clan. "They're just VYING for a fight.", Abellard sputtered from behind his Gladiator's mask. His abnormally high testosterone level was peaking, and one could see a vein running down his neck pop out.

Also among us was Anselm, our environmentally friendly Hunter. He was patting his firewyrm, the only pet (among hundreds) that he insisted on bringing. It spit out sparks and narrowed its eyes. "He doesn't like the look of them, Marche." Lysippe seemed to be baring its teeth and blowing sparks from it's snout.

A Juggler from the clan walked up to us. He was flanked on either side by a fighter and a dragoon.

"Look.", he said, pulling out his dagger and nonchalantly examining the blade. "We don't want any trouble, and you don't want any trouble. Just give us all you got, and we'll both be the better, kupo."

"We don't enjoy causing trouble, but if the situation requires it, well ...", the Fighter offered a roguish grin to me. The moogle himself looked quite dangerous. The fighter and the dragoon looked quite dangerous. Hell, the entirety of the other clan looked quite dangerous.

I briefly think about handing over the meagre amount of Gil in our pocket. "No.", I say firmly. The Juggler, taken aback at the statement, shook his head and walked back to his clan.

"Ready, guys?", I ask my clan. Everyone nods. Abellard's neck vein bulges. But before I can fully unsheathe my blade, a Judge materializes in front of me.

"You are not an Adjudged clan.", he says behind his helmet. "What? Adjudged?", I ask him incredulously. Despite almost all of my time being spent in Cid's company as his protege, I had never heard of the term 'adjudged' before.

"Look buddy, we've got direct ties with the Judgemaster. LET US RIP THEIR HEADS OFF!", Abellard sputtered, now pointing his blade at the Judge.

"The Judgemaster has no control over individual battles in the Jylland region. Therefore, you have no influence here.", the judge said, shaking his head. "Here, in Jylland, Judges do not appear on the battlefield whatsoever. A registered clan has its own judge and oversees the battle from afar. We keep you safe from true death, but only if you agree to follow my laws."

An arrow flew from the far end of the path, straight towards the Judge lecturing us. The other clan looked impatient. An invisible barrier protecting the Judge snapped the projectile in half once it got close enough.

He ignored the attack and continued. "They do have a Judge with them, though, and as such, you cannot truly kill them. However, we cannot interfere with battles and you may be as vicious or as violent as you can - as long as you cooperate with the laws in effect." I could hear Abellard fist-pumping behind me.

"Do you wish for me to be your clan's Judge?", he questioned. His judgesword materialized out of thin air, appearing in his hand. It seemed like he already knew the answer. "Yeah sure, I guess." He tapped the sword on my shoulder and disappeared in a flash of brilliant light.

"So … we're adjudged now?", asked Cecelia. "I was expecting a few more bells and whistles." Suddenly, as if to answer her question, a booming voice spoke. "You are now an adjudged clan. The current law as of now is against Excessive Force."

I looked at Babus. "Excessive force?" The former court magician shrugged. Apparently even he had never heard of a law against excessive force.

"Let the battle begin!", the voice announced.


Adelle's Journal

19th of Goldsun

Baptiste Highlands - Zedlei High Road

Journal Entry 1549

To anyone that didn't personally know the little squirt, Luso would've looked like as much of a threat as a loaf of burnt bread. However, people who actually knew him knew better. Under his roguish clothes, he hid an impressive physique for someone his age. He could swing around giant broadswords as if they were nothing at all.

For example, take Cid. He's a pretty big guy, that's for sure. It's a common sight to see him beating things to a bloody pulp. Some even say he enjoys doing so, but that's a tale for another entry. Anyways, the point I'm trying to get across is that Cid is pretty damn strong. Yesterday, however, Luso and him got into a friendly brawl. Within a minute, he had Cid on the floor tapping on the ground and begging for mercy.

I'll let that sink in. … Yeah, I know. Crazy, right? If that still doesn't convince you, well there is still one more piece of compelling evidence!

Just today, we were tasked with the arduous (read: physically exhausting and mind numbing) task of protecting some old fart's crops from garden pests.

He insisted on bringing Hurdy, me, Cid, Frimelda and Julianne, our clan's assassin. When we got there, however, it seemed as if he didn't need us in the least. I mean, seriously - the entire time we lounged about while Luso was piledriving dreamhares into the ground and throwing wolves around like they were nothing.

Anyways, enough about that tangent. So right now, I guess, we're taking a quick breather underneath one of the trees then it's off to Goug to meet up with Clan Bowen for a night out on the town. I wonder what we're going to do. Knowing Bowen, we might end up goin

Halfway through writing the journal entry, a shockwave suddenly ripped through the air. First came a roaring wall of wind, followed by a large bang.

It took all six of us by surprise, that was for sure. I had dropped my journal, and somewhere behind me, I heard something break followed by a rather loud expletive.

Maybe a few miles away from our current position, the top half of a large, translucent blue orb could be seen rapidly expanding and then, equally as fast, disappearing.

"…kupo?!", Hurdy questioned incredulously, trying to correct the now awkward position of the pom-pom on his head.

"What was that?", Frimelda asked Luso. She looked equally as startled as the rest of us. "I dunno, but that explosion snapped my good sharpening block in half. If I ever find that idiot who just cast that Ultima, why, I've got half a mind to …", Luso went on complaining, but I paid no attention to him.

I hadn't seen an Ultima spell as strong as that since my adolescent adventures in Ivalice, watching a Gladiator decimate his foes in one of the house cups, just using a single Ultima to blow the entirety of the opposing team to the next dimension.

"Luso, lad. Calm down! We'll check it out and talk to the man. Also, I hope you know that swords aren't meant to be shoved in that orifice!", Cid said, trying his best to calm Luso down from his rage.

"Fine.", he moped. He stood up and began to walk in the direction of the blast. We all followed.


"Hey! Watch your back!", I yelled across the field. Abellard spun around at just the right time and knocked an approaching Fighter onto the ground using the back of his hand. He waved at me and assumed his battle stance once again. Cecelia fired off a few thunderbolts at a Fencer from across the field, but the Fencer's vest seemed to take the brunt of the damage. It was their turn, I thought grimly.

The fighter that Abellard knocked back went up to him and took a vicious slash Bangaa, removing along with it a very large chunk of flesh that made the Gladiator howl in rage.

Abellard tried to counter, but the Fighter's ninja-like reflexes caught the flat of the blade and kicked the him in the stomach, a kick that seemed to carry so much force it knocked him back a few meters. Impressive, I mused to myself.

A sniper, hidden under the canopy of the trees fired an arrow, trailed by what looked to be some black fog. It hit Abellard square in the chest, who was currently giving his patented death glare to the offending fighter. It took Abellard a few seconds to realize what had suddenly lodged itself right above his heart. However, being the masochist that he was, he simply snapped the shaft in half, leaving the arrowhead embedded in his breastplate. "That all you got?"

He swore and waved the half-arrow in the air. Suddenly, Abellard fell to the ground as the Grim Reaper emerged from the wound that the arrow left. The Reaper cackled loudly and disappeared.

"First blood!", the Judge said, in a wispy and etherial voice. There was no time to stop and wonder what had happened. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that the Juggler was arching back, a lit molotov in his hands.

"ULTIMA!", I bellowed, not thinking. I pointed my blade at the Moogle and the ground under him began to crack. From behind those cracks erupted a brilliant cerulean light. The light began to expand rapidly from the ground, enveloping him and a few neighbouring trees. The spell dissipated and he appeared a second later, on the ground and bleeding from the mouth, but still very much alive.

"Marche has broken the law!", our Judge had bellowed. Suddenly, I had the wind knocked out of me. The blow knocked me to the ground, but no-one was around to have delivered it. I took a look around - each of my clan members looked queasy and weak. It seemed that breaking the laws in Jylland proved more fatal than breaking the laws in Ivalice did, where you'd (literally) get off of the hook with nothing more but a slap on the hand.

Ritz walked up to me. "Good job, you idiot. Looks like we're without a Judge for now. First fight, too."

I deadpan. "Come on, Ritz. We're a battle hardened clan hailing directly from Ivalice. How many times have we saved the world?"

"Once.", Ritz mutters under her breath. I choose to ignore this wisecrack. "I mean, we've been invited, as guests of honour to participate in a series of tourneys where deadly clans compete for fame and riches!" I scoff at the other clan. "It's like a ragtag group of misfits could even dream of standing up to us." Ritz raises her eyebrows. "Alright, sure, whatever you say."

I couldn't have been more wrong.


A/N: My sad and clunky attempt at trying to describe a battle scene. Not my best work, I know, but I'll try to improve. The next chapter is a bit longer, don't worry. Anyways, leave a review down below and I'll get back to you.