The girl was on her feet again, wringing water out of the two bushy pigtails hanging off the sides of her head. She stumbled forward in an attempt to leave the crowd, but was slapped back again.
"What is the meaning of this!"
Everyone began to scatter as a tall Mithra waded through the group, her bright pink, spiked hair remaining still as her similarly-colored lips curled into a furious frown. "What is going on here?"
"Professor Lata," Nanono sobbed. "Make them stop."
"I thought we went over this already!" the teacher whirled around, sending the rest of the young Tarutaru fleeing for their lives. "There will be no demeaning and putting down of fellow students! If I see any of you going after Nanono again, your parents won't be hearing the end of it!"
"My parents don't listen to a professor like you, with no mag-"
"GET OUT!"
The escape was resumed, leaving Lata able to support Nanono again. "...was this the hair thing again?"
"It's always the hair thing." Nanono sighed dejectedly.
The sun slowly fell behind the stone structure in the distance, and soon behind the line of foilage beyond it - one of many buildings of the famed Windurst School of Magic. Wheezing could be heard as another Taru boy rounded the edge, running to the fountain. As he neared the fountain he tripped, sliding straight to the two in a cloud of dust.
"I hope you're not here for what I think." Lata yanked him onto his feet. "Blitzen-Aitzen."
"Not asking for an assignment extension... what happened to Nanono..."
Nanono smiled.
"So do your parents know how poorly you are doing?" Lata frowned. "Or do you need me to tell them?" She glanced around, Blitzen having already made his way over to Nanono.
"...ugh." Blitzen poked Nanono.
"Not looking your prime yourself." Nanono wiped a handful of dirt off Blitzen's forehead.
"BLITZEN." Lata said firmly. "Where were you today, might I ask?"
"Doing something productive, ma'am." Blitzen said dully.
"I think you MAY have been more productive coming to class and obtaining your test scores. Actually, it would have been even MORE worthwhile to come to class to take the test to begin with. Zero for you, young sir. If you do not bring up your scores soon, you may be in a position where you will fail this grade. Keep that in mind for the future. These events will be reported to your parents, if I can't make you any more enthusiastic about your studies I'm sure they'll find some means."
"Yes, ma'am." Blitzen bowed. Lata strided away, deciding what to be more furious at, Blitzen or everyone else. Blitzen grinned, turning back to Nanono. "Whatcha get?"
Nanono stared blankly at Blitzen. "92."
"Nifty." Blitzen hopped up, seating himself on the edge of the fountain.
"...don't you have any concern for your grades?" Nanono scratched the back of her head. "Why don't you come to class? Lata promised she would show us some high-level fire magic tomorrow after school... c'mon, you can't miss that."
"Meh." Blitzen grunted.
Nanono flailed her limbs around, trying to create some semblance of an explosion.
Blitzen shrugged, unsheathing a crude dagger from his loose belt. Nanono jumped back. "...wha! Where'd you get that? You could hurt yourself with that!"
"I asked some Mithra if I could help them chop wood." Blitzen let his teeth show through a wide grin. "They told me to get some practice first."
"You're not interested in magic at all, are you?"
"Does it matter?" Blitzen sulked forward, twirling the bronze knife in his hand. "...I wanna put my arms to use... I feel like I'm just rotting away in class... you've been in more than one class with me, right?"
"You did just fine then." Nanono mumbled.
"There'll always be someone better than me. Every taru wants magic. I think there's something I can out there, something that'll have more meaning than just being another peon hoping to be able to make a big enough fireball to please the Star Sybil... every day I'm not in class, I'm searching Windurst for that. I'm talking to every guild in town, everyone wants choreboys, workers, craftsmen, and that is the first step for me." Blitzen nodded.
"Try telling your parents that. Mine just think you're a weirdo... and while I'm not supposed to tell you this... they've already told me not to hang out with you... that you're a bad influence."
"That I am," Blitzen sighed happily. "That I am."
"Anyways... I gotta get going now..." Nanono bundled up her books, holding them to her chest as she turned to walk the other way. "...and Blitzen?"
"Hm?"
"...how's my hair?"
"Green." Blitzen smirked.
Both laughed as Nanono began her long jog home. Blitzen would soon begin his.
He would dread every moment of it.
Blitzen stirred the tongs idly in the small pot of water, his other hand's fingers steadily drumming the armrest of his wicket chair. He stared at the red glow pulsing out from under the surface of the water, letting out a heavy sigh. Fire crystals were by no means the cheapest way to heat water, but the tiny bachelor suite of his had no cooking-capable heat to speak of - that and his generally less-than-fireproof Windurstian-style furniture wouldn't agree with the motion.
As it reached a boil, Blitzen drunkenly shoved another pot of diced vegetables in. He nearly sent the pot flying off the table as the door of his 20-foot-wide abode flew open with a crash, causing every other utensil nearby to crash to the ground.
"Bliiiiitzeeeen!" Blitzen cringed at the shrill voice of Grawp's messenger moogle. It floated in, flapping its dull grey wings. It proceeded to knock over a wooden stand, Blitzen's tools falling in a series of orchestrated crashes. "You work today correct?"
"...yeah." Blitzen grunted.
"Grawp would like me to tell you that your delivery list has changed today, kupo! Please sign." Blitzen attempted to glance into his still-cooking lunch, before having a clipboard viciously rammed in his face. Blitzen tore the papers out of the moogle's tiny claws, and started flipping through.
"80 coppper, 40 bronze, has been changed to... 5 copper... 2 bronze..." he flipped back one page, and ahead again. "...that's a lot of weapons... uhh, okay, I'll be there." Blitzen handed the board back to the moogle, who promptly zoomed out of the room again. Blitzen scratched his head as he shut the door, sitting down and shoveling in a mouthful of the boiled greens. "...meh, weapons are easier anyways... dunno where he'd get an order that big from though. Can't be bothered to care."
He quickly finished off his meal, quickly fitting all his smithy's tools back in his belt and grabbing his apron off a wall rack. He was out the door within minutes of the update.
Grawp threw the same clipboard at the wall. The moogle absentmindedly turned around and floated out the day, slamming the door shut and knocking down the Smithing Guild sign again. "This is outrageous! I knew these events were being planned, but do the Musketeers think they can just walk in and slap down money like this is some damned restaraunt and expect their orders in ten blasted minutes or they DINE FREE!" he spun around to a dirtily-dressed bearded Hume leaning against the wall. "Kage. I want you to check the employment records, find everyone who was supposed to get this day free and get their asses down here PRONTO!"
"That has already begun." Kage said breathlessly, the words seeming to slither from his lips.
"'sup sup." As another worker finished hanging up the sign, Blitzen tossed the door to its side, knocking him and the sign down yet again.
"Blitzen, am I ever glad to see you." Grawp sighed heavily, standing up and moving alongside Blitzen. "Are you fine with working today?"
"I wasn't expecting groceries to take so short... I was getting bored." Blitzen shoved his way to the back door, barging into the main chamber. The furnaces were already glowing with life, the workers who were meant to be there earlier working double-time as those that were called in were still setting up. As Blitzen stood at the top of the metal stairs, tying his apron, Grawp shoved a pamphlet into his face. "...what's this?"
"The bane of our existance," Grawp grumbled. "Haven't you seen any of these kicking around town? Preperations are being made for the annual Legionnaires' Exhibition, which starts next week. It's generally Bastok's little career fair, national pride thing, you get the picture. Supposedly the good ol' military is the theme this time around, and there's supposed to be some presentations going on, with some sort of push towards greater citizen recruitment into the Legionnaires. Smells like a draft if you ask me."
Blitzen stared blankly out into the field of panicking smithies, bodies swarming around the floor like a demolished anthill. He looked away as a pallet jack and a wheelbarrow collided, spilling heavy bronze ingots onto someone else's feet. The victim jumped around letting out pained growls as everyone around him began arguing. "...couldn't you have been a little better prepared for this?"
"EXCUSE me," Grawp sputtered. "We weren't particularly expecting the Bastokan guard to drain every last raw ingot out of the guilds first."
Blitzen and Grawp made their way to the bottom of the stairs, and down the main alley leading to Blitzen's assigned furnace. The Hume and Elvaan he worked with were joined by another Hume and Galka, not paying much attention to him and the guildmaster as they peeked inside. "This is a little severe, isn't it?" Blitzen grumbled.
"Just put up with this for a day, I'm listening to enough people complaining as is without the workers starting to snivel." Grawp glanced over his shoulder, watching a hollow-eyed, white-haired Galka walk confidently down the floor. He wore a white apron, which Grawp immediately identified as one that non-guild-affiliated overseers wore - namely, those of government accordance. Grawp lifted an eyebrow as a Hume strode into the visitor's path, which the Galka swatted aside with a deeply-annoyed grunt. He flashed his jagged teeth as he made his way over to Grawp.
"...Guildmaster Grawp." he sneered. "I imagine everything is going... relatively smoothly here?"
"Flying Hammer. 40 of the weapons you asked for are complete." Grawp droned. "We are calling additional people in to complete your shipment before 4 this afternoon." Grawp rolled his eyes as Flying Hammer folded his hands behind his back, walking around Grawp.
"...idiots." Flying Hammer growled. "Look at these people. Careless, HAZARDOUS, in the face of a stressful deadline such as mine. Surely you could do a little more... 'strategic' job distribution? I want to see those weapons, and SOON, do I make myself clear?"
Blitzen's whistling suddenly drowned out the conversation as he walked out of the furnace, idly twirling his sword in his hands. "Yo, got anywhere I can put this? We're running out of shelf space for our maces fast in here."
Flying Hammer blinked. "And who the hell would he be?"
"He is an apprentice smith of furnace H, he recently joined our team, two weeks ago if I'm not mistaken."
Flying Hammer smirked, paying no attention to Grawp. "...Tarutaru? Now I've seen it all."
Grawp ran a hand down his face. "Here we go again."
"Tell me, Grawp, what does this little friend of yours make? Toothpicks? Letter openers? Butterknives? Maybe a dagger even?"
Blitzen stared blankly, heaving his sword over his shoulder. "Weapons. Deadly weapons. Like anyone else here."
"That's... sorta cute. He's twirling that little sword around." Flying Hammer chuckled. He leant over, planting his elbow on the wooden support of a supply platform. "Got any tricks you can show me?"
Blitzen paused. His stoic face quickly grew a frown. Grawp watched him as he hoisted the sword back over his shoulder, walking casually towards Flying Hammer. He glanced at the wooden shafts holding up a metal flat with various crates and large burlap sacks on top. "...I have a few tricks, now that you think of it. Nice... entertaining... Tarutaru tricks."
Grawp stumbled back as Blitzen leapt forward, falling forward onto one foot and spinning 360 degrees - shattering the base of the wooden support with a cleave of his blade. The loss of balance, coupled with the still stunned Flying Hammer pushing forward on it, caused the metal platform to teeter in his direction. Its contents were launched at the overseer Galka, him letting out a pained growl as a crate flew against his torso, and several packed bags of soot broke over his head. Flying Hammer stumbled back, hacking and coughing as he tripped over a loose ingot. The Galka finally hit the ground with a thunderous crash, causing a mushroom cloud of loose ash to rise over Blitzen and Grawp.
Grawp's fingers dug firmly into his scalp, his eyes bulging as he glanced back and forth between the still battle-stanced Blitzen and the coughing, wheezing Flying Hammer as he slowly climbed back to his feet. "Blitzen! What in the HELL are you doing!"
"What's going on here!" Two armored Musketeers charged through the crowd, their ebony and gold armor glowing in the inferno.
"Apprehend him!" Flying Hammer bellowed, forcing his way out of the slippery ashes.
Grawp stared sadly at Blitzen, stepping away. "...this was your own doing, Blitzen."
Blitzen grit his teeth, glancing between the advancing guards and Grawp. Growling, he let his sword drop to his side, and quickly pointed it in the direction of the policing unit. "Don't think I regret anything." letting out a wheeze, he tossed his sword to the side, watching it skid to a painful stop. Turning back, he raised his arms. Expecting a quick cuffing, he instead coughed out a mouthful of blood as an armored boot slammed into his gut, sending him flying back into the side of one of the cinder-block walls of the metalworks. An injured hack escaped his lips as he fell to the ground in a slump.
"Ridiculous." Flying Hammer muttered. Blitzen fell forward again, feeling the icy jaws of unconsciousness coming down.
"If it makes you feel any better, kupo, the load on the Smithing guild has lightened considerably since you left."
Blitzen lied motionless in his bed, wheezing.
"...because, well, a lot of people are quitting... or getting fired over trivial things... I think the government is keeping a tighter lid on them... kupo..." the moogle carried the wobbling tongs out of the hot water bottle, dropping the fire crystal into a bronze urn. The moogle lifted the blankets, slapping the bottle down on Blitzen's forehead. The large bandage, triple-wrapped around Blitzen's swollen torso, was entering its fifth day of use. "...do you think you'll be able to stay up today?"
"I think so." Blitzen raised his legs slightly, swinging them off the bed. The moogle landed, crouching under Blitzen's right arm to help him up. As he stood, he stopped wobbling. "...thanks." He stared at the moogle. The creature remained still, staring at Blitzen, waiting for any sort of command. "..I... think I'll be fine for today."
"Okay okay, kupo... just gimme a ring if you need anything... you have the pearl still?"
"On the table."
Blitzen waved the moogle off as it grabbed its comically large doctor's bag and floated off. Sighing, he wandered over to the pantry and stuck his head in. He still had an ample supply of foodstuffs for the next week at least - and still had enough money from his earlier overtime work at the smithy to get the attention of a professional medical moogle, thankfully. Not that his attendance prevented him from getting fired. Just another group he failed to impress. Not much an exception from anything else in his life.
"Tell me, Grawp, what does this little friend of yours make? Toothpicks? Letter openers? Butterknives? Maybe a dagger even?"
Flying Hammer's words made him cringe.
"That's... sorta cute. He's twirling that little sword around. Got any tricks you can show me?"
Blitzen's face flushed. Clenching his fists, he glanced over his shoulder to the other side of his bed, where his sword leant against the wall point-down. The Legionnaires' Exhibition papers still sat on the table, the pages fluttering in the breeze coming through the window.
"Smithing pays the bills, kid, but to be honest, it ain't the most exciting thing. Or babysitting smithing, for that matter. You know, I think if you hit the right chords you could probably enlist in Bastok's Musketeer forces."
Blitzen frowned, walking slowly around the bed. Picking up the blade with his right hand, he checked both flat edges, slowly cutting at the air. It generated a gleam that made him smile... even in situations like these. It was then he realized, that as long as he had money and that motive, things would always turn out right. That was always the way. And not everyone had the right amount of money to have TWO moogles working for them.
He glanced over as the door creaked open. "...Blitzen?" Grawp's moogle stuck his head in, checking around the room. "Alone, k-kupo?"
"Leave them by the table." Blitzen said sternly.
"Aye aye... Grawp's not gonna know about this, right?" the moogle slowly drug a heavy burlap bag along the floor, dropping it with a thud at the base of the short-legged Windurstian table.
"Grawp who?" Blitzen sighed. He tossed a small sack of gil up in the air, which the moogle caught with its free hand.
"Pleasure doin' buisness, kupo." the door slammed shut. Blitzen's rack of tools wobbled over again, dumping its contents with a dull crash. Not that he'd be needing them.
Blitzen crouched down, flipping up the opening of the bag. His grin grew a mile wide as he surveyed its contents. 10 copper ingots, 10 bronze ingots, a bundle of sheep leather. Perfect. The guild could do fine without them. One by one he moved the ingots to the top of the table, and placed the leather alongside them. Opening his pantry he removed a small bundle of the fire crystals. He slid one out, holding it up to the light. The elemental crystals, holding the essence of the elements - one trained in their handling could handle them like tools. A raging inferno in Blitzen's hand that could light a lamp and toast bread, or smelt the hardiest of adaman and blow up a city block.
He pulled up a stool, sitting down and beginning his work. A bright red haze quickly consumed his room as he began to work.
Naji stared dully at the rising moon, chuckling to himself before taking another huge bite of his bannock. He tore a huge chunk out of it, chewing it with his mouth open and letting crumbs flow down onto the cobblestone below. Ayame stared at him disgustedly. Naji glanced back, noticing the rest of the Mythril Musketeers glaring daggers. He held up the tiny shred of the bread left, hurling more food out of his mouth as he talked. "Wanf somf?"
Volker sulked. "I'm good."
The Legionnaire's Exhibition had begun only that night - festivities had been pushed back because, as the officals made emphasis on earlier, there were a 'lack of armaments' for the 'planned events, later that evening'. The situation had been resolved thereafter. Lights were strewn around the central fountain of the Bastok marketplace, fireworks were set off now and then, and adults and children alike wandered the large plaza. Fair games were strewn around the city, and the usual career information booths were set up around the auction house - agriculture, metalworking, import and export, diplomatic business, arts, political sciences, and generally everything the city was famous for. Everything else was shoved off to the other side of the auction compound. A large cage had been laid in the water conduits below, tied to metal shafts on the walkways above to keep it stable.
"I'm pretty certain no booth has moved an inch from last year." Naji said flatly.
Iron Eater sat on the ground, his back against the auction house wall. His arms were slumped haphazardly over his legs, possibly the only position for the galka to place them that seemed comfortable. "I think he's right."
"Why should it matter." Ayame said breathlessly.
"If it weren't for the banging and crashing and whatever the hell goes on in the Metalworks or Cid shoving all his new trinkets in our faces, we'd be stuck in a time warp." Naji shot back.
"This festival has significance." Ayame glanced over his shoulder, frowning at Naji.
"The Legionnaire's Exhibition has been implemented to demonstrate the power of the Bastokan military and provoke interest of the citizens of Bastok, thereby increasing enrollment by some noticable degree." Naji droned, his voice suddenly turning sharp as he finished, waving his arms in the air angrily. "What the hell was so bad about calling it the Bastokan Career Initiative Festival? That had a nice ring to it."
"The military has had little PR to speak of since the war," Volker stared out onto the water, his eyes closed. "This city was founded on economy and innovation, and that has always been its prime focus. The vast majority of people living in Bastok are the aging oppritunists and young workers. They are the ones that came to this city for a chance at life, and are less likely to risk it for their country. There are the Galka, of course, but their implied segregation coupled with the Zeid incident have left them reluctant of their success, or even recognition, in the Musketeer forces. There was no Galka in the force that had slain the second incarnation of the Shadow Lord either, as I recall. I agree that the rampant glorification of the Musketeer forces is irritating, but I wonder if it may be necessary to attract new talent."
All four stared over to the Musketeer displays. The booths were decorated with varying sizes of great swords, scythes, and knuckle-borne accessories - traditional weapons of Bastok. The dull blue water wheel barely stood out from the white background of the Bastokan national flag, flown high over top of the large tent. Its visitors were mostly children hypnotized by the brilliant gleam of the weapons and armor on display - while their parents were free to investigate the post-secondary educational funding plans provided by them; in exchange for years of service, of course.
"So many weapons, and nowhere for them to go." Iron Eater said sadly. "I do hope there is some interest generated by all this hype."
"So what's goin' on then?" Naji twisted off the lid of his canteen, taking a large swig of water. "The displays are still open for another two hours, do they plan on having the first night go out with a bang?"
Ayame had her nose stuck deep into the pamphlet. "...dethrone an Iron Musketeer... can you do it? Calling all fighters for a formal duel! Battle will take place at the conduit platform, in the ravine southeast from the goldsmith guild display. 50,000 gil prize up for grabs."
"Does it say what time?" Volker stared back towards the group.
"Ten minutes ago." Ayame read.
"Uaagghh!..." a Hume, wearing dull grey armor, let out all the saliva in his mouth as he slammed into the metal bars behind him. Slumping down, his hands fluttered as he scanned the ground for his sword. Flying Hammer's black-armored foot slammed down, dragging the weapon just out of his reach. The behemoth towered over his downed opponent, none of his pasty white skin showing through his seamless darksteel plate armor.
"Too weak." he shouted to the crowd. Half of the pedestrians above and to his sides cheered and hooted wildly, the others cringed. He slung his war hammer back over his shoulders with one hand. Glaring at the audience, he grimaced as the maul's head blocked his view. "...dunno why they just can't let me use my axe... would be faster to cut these fools down than treat whatever injuries I give them..."
"That makes eight decisive victories for I.M. Flying Hammer tonight," one of the other chain-mailed Iron Musketeers shouted to the crowd from a platform suspended above. "...that, I would like to emphasize, is what YOU will be turned into when we're through with you."
"Dead, or Galka? I don't know what I prefer." a jeer shot out of the crowd.
Again the crowd was split between laughter and silence. Flying Hammer's eyes burned, seeming to burn a wide gap in the crowd. A small group of Elvaan boys began stepping back.
"I suppose you'd like a try?" Flying Hammer pointed the tip of his massive hammer at the crowd. "From the sound of that comment, you'd rather be dead or Galka than a whiny little brat, so how about you stand up to your words!" Everyone seemed to lurch at the comment, a mother quickly shielding the boys as they began to tear up.
"P. R." the guard above hissed down into the cage.
"You show me someone worthy and I'll give them all the goddamn praise they want. Where is the next challenger?"
Grawp stood at the back of the group, leant up to the wall next to the Goldsmith guild doors. Cupping his hands to his mouth, he spoke up above the crowd. "People wonder where the warmonger Galka stereotype comes from... I can't be bothered to watch anymore of this carnage, let alone this idiot's ego trip." Flying Hammer's frown twisted into a demented curl. As people realized the comment came from another Galka, their discomfort faded away.
The overseer Musketeer let the armet of his helmet fall back down, carefully peering through the slits to read the piece of paper in front of him. "We shall now proceed with our next challenger: we present #9 of 10, who also competes for our enticing 50,000 gil prize..." he paused, reading over the sheet again. "...my apologies, #9 appears to be a typo... moving to #10-"
Three people were spilled over as a blur leapt to the guardrail, skidding down one of the tow ropes holding the cage down, and finally leaping down into the cage. What many people thought was someone hunched down, was actually his full height. Blitzen wasted no time tossing away his tattered cape, tearing his sword out of its equally battered sheath. The audience once again fell silent.
"So anyways, then he-" Naji ground to a halt, staring out dully into the cage. "...ohhh, that's not gonna do wonders."
Ayame rubbed a hand into her face. "You have got to be joking."
"That's right, in Bastok, we let our masculinity show through with a good old round of Taru molestation." Naji nodded. "...I dunno who let him in... but so much for our PR."
"Maybe this was a disturbance created on his part." Volker. "Be quiet and watch."
Blitzen stood up, exposing himself - he was in a coat of tightly-woven bronze chains, worn over top of his green loafers for obvious comfort reasons. He quickly equipped a loose-fitting skullcap on his oversized head. The set had obviously been custom-created, and the armaments used were obviously picked out due to ease of crafting.
"...entry #9, Blitzen-Aitzen!"
"Le sigh." Naji grunted.
Everyone stared blankly. Except for Flying Hammer, who's grin was now of pure delirium. "...well well, if it isn't our little tin knight. You're one of those I-think-I-can types, aren't you? So what have you come here for? To issue your apology and hope that I don't crush your bones for even attempting to do so?"
"Maybe you'll crush me, maybe you won't," Blitzen muttered. "I've come here for the same reason as everyone else. To test myself against an Iron Musketeer. Gil is secondary. If I can put up a fight, and let you make yourself look like an ass while you try to crush this little ant that won't give up, all the better."
"You want to fight." Flying Hammer smirked. "Well isn't that commendable. Fetch me my axe. It doesn't matter what you hit an insect with... he still dies." he held his hand up, intercepting the massive whoosh that tore through the air - catching the massive battleaxe with one stroke of his arm. He quickly planted the handle firmly in both palms, staring hungrily at Blitzen.
"You know, I was expecting at least one person to comfort the underdog, but that just doesn't happen." Blitzen held his blade behind him, pivoting off to the side as he made his first blind charge at the pillar of muscle.
"DIE!" Flying Hammer roared, quickly calculating Blitzen's position. His axe hurtled through the air, ripping into the wooden platform below him with the sound of an explosion. Quickly noticing the missed strike he tore the axe from the ground, hunching down and spinning in a complete circle, hoping to tag his tiny target. The force noticably kicked up the waves around the floating cage. His eyes burned as he noticed Blitzen on his back a short distance away. He had most likely been standing close to where the axe stopped, and was able to fall back to avoid the strike as it went above him. Flying Hammer let out another bellow as he let his axe fall to one hand, slinging it up and down again at the ground. Blitzen attemped to roll away, but was sent flying by the force of the impact where he once was.
Blitzen barely caught one of the support ropes, using it to swing himself back down.
"This is interesting." Volker rubbed his chin. "I would have never thought of that."
"What is that?" Ayame mumbled.
"That's an obvious weakness in a heavily armored, heavily-armed fellow. I doubt anyone that this Musketeer has foughten anyone in the past while with the agility of a Tarutaru. I doubt he's ever engaged one in melee period, to tell you the truth. I'm surprised that his opponent has enough of a grasp on the situation to be able to make judgments on where to move without hesitation, but if he keeps it up he may be able to wear down Flying Hammer. As a matter of fact, the arena itself doesn't seem to be built for someone using that heavy of a weapon."
"The cage is unstable. It is being held up by ropes, but an impact large enough on one corner could dismantle it." Iron Eater finished.
"STAND.. STILL!" Flying Hammer was on his sixth consecutive blow. Blitzen bounded out of the way once more, the delay in his actions beginning to show. He glanced back, gasping for breath as the Galka wrenched his weapon free once more. Bellowing in rage he began a wild sprint at the Taru on the far edge of the platform - his strides causing the platform to sway.
Blitzen watched the wall of the conduit come closer and closer to him as the platform moved. He simply moved back, his feet teetering on the edge as Flying Hammer bull-charged him. He grabbed onto the nearest rope, sticking out his tongue as Flying Hammer raised his axe as high above his head as he could get it - Blitzen swung up, kicking off the wall and dismounting off to the Musketeer's side as the axe hit home. People up above scattered as chunks of rock flew into the air. Blitzen grimaced as he ran around behind the Galka, jabbing his sword into the slot where his thick tail swayed from.
"GYAAAAH! You LITTLE FREA-" Flying Hammer spun around, ready to prepare for another swing - but his axe never moved. He turned to look at it, his eyes bulging as he noticed where it was - firmly entrenched in the side of the rock wall of the conduit. He yanked and pulled at it, growling and snarling - while Blitzen ran to the rope next to him.
"Choose your weapon," Blitzen smiled. "I wouldn't suggest the axe." With one smooth stroke, Blitzen's blade severed the rope in front of him, causing the cage to tip over in that direction. Water began to pour into the cage, and Flying Hammer lost his balance, stumbling as he tried to reach back to his axe. Blitzen had already run a wide arc around him to the other corner, slicing apart that support as well. Flying Hammer leapt back, his side of the platform completely crashing into the water and seperating him from his weapon.
The cheering up above was now louder than it ever was before.
"I will crush you with my own bare hands if needed!" Flying Hammer turned around, dashing up the slanted cage floor. Blitzen calmly sheathed his sword. Everyone stared onward in disbelief as he waited to intercept. The Galka, raised his fist, ready to slam it down in the same manner as any other weapon.
With a grunt of approval, Blitzen caught it with his according palm. Gasps and cries rose out of the crowd.
"..w-what! How!" Flying Hammer sent his other open hand at Blitzen's head, exposing his lower torso. Blitzen crouched, evading the strike altogether and delivering a sweeping kick to the side of Flying Hammer's armored leg. Damaging it was out of the question. "..urk."
As the platform shifted back in Blitzen's direction, from the weight of Flying Hammer, the strike was the last step necessary to throw him off balance yet again - as he began to fall over top of Blitzen, Blitzen leapfrogged between his short legs, slashing one last rope on his way out. As Blitzen rolled to a stop, Flying Hammer crashed down. The platform tilted up again, dumping the darksteel giant in the shallow water below. Blitzen drove his sword into the platform, holding himself up as the water settled. Flying Hammer finally pushed himself up, spewing out a mouthful of the resevoir. As he slowly crawled up the other side of the platform, people offered their hands to finally drag Blitzen out of the cage. Applause rose as Blitzen set foot back onto the cobblestone above, shaking more water off.
"We have our first winner of the night! Blitzen-Aitzen has won rights to the his 50,000 gil prize package! I send out my personal congratulations to this young fellow, a Tarutaru nonetheless, that has made a monkey out of Flying Hammer without a single sword strike! There will be a brief pause in the action as we set our platform up again, so please stay tuned!"
"Wait, wha-" Blitzen was suddenly lifted off the ground, raised and thrown about atop a group of cheering and shouting people as they began to move away. The Musketeer caught up with the ground, quickly tossing up the massive sack of gold coins onto his chest. "I appreciate ever-gaack-"
Volker continued to stare onwards as the other Mythril Musketeers began to head back to the food stands. Blitzen's sword bobbed in his free hand. Volker's eyes continued to follow the hilt as it bounced. "...there was no way he'd have the hand-to-hand combat abilities he did, and wield a sword of that size in comparison to him, unless..." Blitzen finally let out a cheer of his own, stabbing his blade high into the air. Volker's eyes locked onto the very bottom of the hilt, where a noticably large red gem stuck out. "...just as I thought."
"Are you coming?" Iron Eater smiled. "That was some unlikely entertainment I'm sure, but we have a lot of work tomorrow."
"Go on ahead." Volker commanded. He strided forward, dodging around people as he hunted Blitzen from a distance. Grawp's eyes rolled over as the lead Mythril Musketeer passed him. Slowly the Galka began to chuckle.
"He's onto you, and he won't be as understanding as me." Grawp hummed under his breath. "Stay frosty, Blitzen."
Blitzen was all smiles.
He strode down under the arch of the Metalworks, comfortably swinging his bag of money. Dignity and wealth all in one convenient packaging. What do to do with his recent windfall was still out of mind. Maybe he'd finally move out of his rotting bachelor suite, possibly get somewhere with a functioning fireplace. And a good view. Of water. He liked oceanfronts. Upgrading his armor was always a tempting possibility. He had potentially made a celebrity out of himself, and he wanted to be best prepared for it as possible.
He finally made his way to the empty residential district, far south. The dull, quiet alley of Ore Street was now more ghostly than ever. Whereas half of its residents worked the nearby Zeruhn Mines around the clock, the other half were stay-in citizens too cheap for anywhere else. The latter group was most likely at the Exhibition. Blitzen stared up. It was late, but not too late. It was starting to drizzle, and the sky was definately warning of a downpour.
Blitzen lifted his keys, sorting through them as a crash roared through the street. Lifting his tired head, he slowly turned around.
"I'd like a word with you." Volker stood a good forty feet away, continuing to eye up Blitzen.
"Kinda late," Blitzen grunted. He turned around, resuming his hunt. He paused again, sighing as he turned back to Volker. "Who the hell are you?"
"I was about to ask you the same question." Volker drew his sword, holding it down at his side. He slowly walked forward as the rain started to come down.
"Heh," Blitzen finally opened his door, tossing the gil on his tool stand. He shut his door again, unsheathing his weapon once more. "Don't think I'm defenseless because I don't throw my sword around everywhere in a fight."
"Don't think I'm defenseless because I look like a mindless Bastokan brute, like all the others." Volker growled.
"..hm?" Blitzen blinked.
Volker held his sword up, flipping it in his hands. The glint of a bright blue gem within its hilt flashed at Blitzen. "Don't think I'm stupid, because I CAN see a Tarutaru with bigger things on his mind."
"Please elaborate."
"Stay where you are, spy of San d'Oria."
Blitzen paused for a moment.
Finally his shoulders sulked.
"Been a while since I've heard that," Blitzen mumbled, glaring at Volker. His stoic face quickly gained a wide grin. "I like it better than 'Tarutaru'."
"You're coming with me."
"On one condition."
"And what would that be?"
Blitzen swung his blade behind his head, water flying into the air as he rushed Volker. "Make sure you check next time and see how un-Tarutaru I am?"
"Hmph." Volker rushed forward in response, cleaving downward at Blitzen. Blitzen froze, passing off his sword to his other hand and slinging it over his shoulder in an arc. Both blades crashed together, letting out a pained ring as both slid along each other. Volker quickly forced Blitzen's sword out of his hand, sending it spinning off through a puddle. Volker slung his fist at Blitzen in attempt to immobilize him, but his hand smashed into a blue barrier in the air. Volker stumbled back, holding onto his damaged hand and his sword. Blitzen stood with his palm in the air, a blue aura wrapping downwards from it.
"No magic," Volker grimaced. "Isn't that what you told your friends?"
"You've had eyes everywhere from the beginning." Blitzen's eyes narrowed.
"Since we discovered the San d'Orian royal emblem carved in the bottom of your sword."
"This is the last possession of mine," Blitzen growled. "From an earlier life."
"You even lied to all your Metalworks comrades about your past. That was worth bonus points right there."
"If you know so much about me, you would also know that I am no spy of San d'Oria. I have come to Bastok to live."
"And I am telling you to pack your bags. I knew that comment would get your attention, of course. You are so intent on slinging that damned name of yours around, and being popular, and being someone in Bastok, that you are endangering yourself by doing so. Your track record is a lot more noticable than you'd like to believe, Blitzen. And, sooner or later, someone is going to act upon that and return you to your former masters."
"And you'd like me to do what, eh?" Blitzen picked up his sword, continuing to pour mana into his ethereal shield.
"Return to Windurst."
Blitzen's eyes burned, his face suddenly distorting.
"Windurst and San d'Oria have no common ground. It is there you would be safest from San d'Oria."
"Go to HELL!" Blitzen hurled himself at Volker once more. Volker simply frowned, hunched down and threw himself alongside him. Thunder flashed once. Blitzen's trajectory took him past Volker, hurling him into a pile of crates nearby. Slowly he pried himself up, letting out a dry cough as he wiped a streak of dark sludge from his arm. Slowly the blood replaced itself. Blitzen planted his hand firmly on the gash, sealing it up to some extent with a burst of white magic.
Volker stared at Blitzen momentarily. "Think about it." With that, he spun around on his heel and was off, hiding his sword once more.
Blitzen's door was feet away, unlocked and ready for entry.
All Blitzen could do was sob in the rain.
Comments? Queries? Death threats?
keyvanaugustana.ca