Stellaris DLC is pretty good – a few exploits as per any Paradox DLC but otherwise fun. My efforts to be "best vassal ever TM" failed however because the collapse of your lord is a scripted event. Very sad. I didn't even get a choice to rise up and re-unite the empire after.

Meanwhile, my subterranean playthrough met an entirely expected end when they dug too deep and unearthed a great evil. But I mean, when it offers you the chance to "dig deep despite the ominous rumblings" you have to, don't you? Got to find out what those rumblings are.

Cover Art: GWBrex

Chapter 17

"Stay together. Stay calm. Listen to calls."

There was a steady, reassuring calm to Qrow's gravelly voice that helped to ease the tension running through Jaune and the other candidates. The dirty main ring for the melee's qualifying rounds had been flattened beforehand, stripped bare of grass and mud until dried and baked dirt remained. It was ringed with rickety wooden fencing and then by spectators, who were crammed shoulder to shoulder in a way they just hadn't been for the archery and jousting. This was obviously the main attraction of the spring festival, though even then it was only so for the commonfolk.

It wasn't such a bad scheme that the early rounds were for the commoners and the finals for the rich. That meant all got to see a show at some point or another. Arguably, the nobles would get the best show, but the commonfolk would get more of them. Having grown up on stories of how life in Ansel was better because there was less inequality, he'd expected a lot more of it here. No one ever criticised the Eternity Queen, but there was plenty of stories about her nobles and how cruel they could be.

The other competitors were taking their own spots around the arena. There were no set rules or positions – those in groups, stronger or just more confident took the corners. Qrow and Taiyang did just that, muscling out the nervous people who had tried to before them. Those in the centre had the look of men who had just realised what was about to happen. One hundred people entered, only twenty would leave, and it was already easy to guess who those twenty would be, if only by equipment and formation. There were literal village boys, some younger than he, gripping wood axes in here. Jaune wasn't sure they'd even cut through his mail, let alone the hardened leather and padded gambeson beneath all that.

This is going to be a massacre.

A horn was blown.

"Shield wall!"

Jaune brought his round shield up and linked it with the person to the right. Qrow and Taiyang took each flank, the most dangerous spots and also the best for steering them. The arena was suddenly obscured. In training, he'd experienced the darkness of a full shield wall, but this wasn't that. The grand melee obviously disallowed ranged weapons, so they didn't need shields above and over their heads. Instead, they formed a tight semicircle of shields before their bodies.

"Hold!"

His six feet of height gave him just enough to see over the top of the shield. The fight had begun, and yet there was precious little melee going on. No one wanted to be the first to charge, at least not those unequipped. Two knights in full plate were smashing their way through the competition on the opposite end, and another, this was on his own, slammed a shield into one man while breaking another's arm with a one-handed mace, knocking them to the floor.

Much of the fighting took place where people had been crowded, and it was frantic, panicky and messy. Villagers fought only to be attacked in the back by others, and wooden hafts split under the swords, maxes and axes of the wealthier combatants. The disparity couldn't have been clearer, and it was beginning to feel like the qualifying rounds were just to dismiss the time wasters from the tournament. They could have made it a requirement for a certain amount of equipment to enter, but then that would have ruined the `open to all` element of the tournament. It was open to anyone, but victory was closed to all but those rich enough to afford it.

In a matter of minutes, half the competition were down. None looked to have died – yet – but plenty were in terrible states, clutching broken limbs, bleeding or trying to crawl away. The only mercy was that no one stopped to finish them off. Jaune wasn't sure it was even against the rules, but it would surely paint a target on your back. The remaining fifty or so combatants, the better armed ones, stopped to catch their breath, take in the battlefield and assess their foes. It felt less like a free-for-all and more like everyone was trying to decide which groups were so strong they ought to be avoided.

"Forward!" Qrow barked. "Slow. One. Two. One. Two."

He didn't continue, trusting them to keep the pace he'd set. It wasn't hard with shields linked, as any step too far was quickly yanked back, and the same for anyone falling behind. Soon, they found their pace, moving slowly toward a pair of men-at-arms who backed slowly away from them. Why are we the first to make a move? Wasn't it better to let everyone else wear themselves out?

"He who strikes first wins."

The answer came from an unwelcome source that Jaune had to ignore, because they were closing in on the groups in the centre. Their painted shields, each bearing a black raven, overlapped tightly over one another, with swords resting in the grooves where each round shield came down to form a valley with the one next to it. Everyone was right-handed. Apparently, people who were dominant to their left were advised to form their own walls in the tribe, because uniformity in a shield wall was too important to sacrifice for comfort. The result was a prickly porcupine of a formation, with hardened wood reinforced with steel, and sharp swords pushing out over the top ready to stab.

The two men-at-arms they moved on swore loudly, threw their weapons to the ground and moved aside. Surrender, already? They hadn't even clashed yet.

"Only amateurs and fanatics fight a doomed battle…"

Again? Ozma was speaking more than he had in weeks and all this in the space of two minutes. Was it the fighting? The Dark Lord must have been responding to war, even if it was for sport. That didn't bode well, but it was too late to worry about now – and it looked like he was right. The professional soldiers and militia knew when they were beaten. The village folk had fought hard and suffered for it, but the professionals were going a few quick exchanges before yielding, and for the most part were able to leave with naught but their pride injured.

It was too much to hope that would be the end of it.

"Brace!" Qrow barked. "Brace!"

Jaune dug his right foot back and pushed his left shoulder against the back of the shield, as did everyone else. The impact of the long knight hitting them was like being run down by a horse. Jaune's shield almost buckled under the sheer weight of the man, and his foot skidded back. That was before a winged mace came streaking down from above, striking the top of the shield to his left with an echoing crack that splintered, but did not split, the wood.

He thrust as he'd been taught to with Crocea Mors – don't slash, Taiyang had said. Don't get fancy. The shortest and quickest attack was always a thrust. He didn't know enough about fighting to try anything else. Also, thrusting meant allies could stand shoulder to shoulder with you, and that was to be their big advantage. It would have been, if not for his sword point striking metal and skittering to the side. The knight's breastplate wasn't so much as scratched, though the red and blue heraldic cloth he wore over it was torn open. Other blades clinked, clanked and struck his armour as well, all of them failing to do much more than rattle the man. Who, in return, took a slow, lumbering run up and hurled himself shield-first into their wall.

Six men holding a line could have withstood any realistic push, but a single knight in full armour crashing between two shields pitted all that weight against just the two men. In their case, Jaune and the man to his right. He tried to push back, he really did, but his shield folded inward and so did the other, and suddenly the knight was among them.

"Break!" Qrow barked. "Surround!"

The wall collapsed as people gave way left and right. It was ridiculous to think a single knight could bring an end to it – he must have known he could, otherwise he wouldn't have charged them alone. Somehow, the Branwen tribe had been judged weak enough to be a viable target. Arrogance, or just supreme faith in his equipment? It was hard to judge when another frantic stab from Jaune took the man in the small of his back, only for the plate to direct it down to a curtain of chainmail, and for that to catch the blade with no penetration. In return, the knight twisted and caught the flat of his sword with the winged mace, sending such a rattling pain down the blade, into the hilt and his hand that he was forced to drop it. The palm of his hand was unresponsive.

Luckily, Taiyang came in with his shield to block the strike that would have caved Jaune's skullcap in. He deflected it over and to the side, swinging in not with his sword but with a small, spiked hammer. This, the knight chose to block with his shield, the horrible sound of the two meeting and the chunk of the spike puncturing through it audible to all. The small hole in the shield didn't bother the knight any, however.

"Surround him!" Qrow shouted. "Drag him down!"

Of course – they could pin him. All but impervious to their weapons he might be, but the man beneath the armour was still just that and wouldn't be able to shift the weight of six other men sat atop him. From there, they could unlatch his helmet and force a surrender with a knife to the throat. In the time Jaune took realising it, Qrow and Taiyang were already hurling themselves at the knight, shields forward, while two of the others were using their own to try and shepherd the knight's mace up in the air and trap it there where he couldn't properly swing his arm or bring it to bare.

Damn it – he was the slow one. Jaune raced to his sword, fighting the pain in his hand, and picked it up. They were counting on him to be a part of this, and he couldn't waste time thinking about why Qrow was telling him to do things.

"Hold the blade. Strike with the guard."

Hold the blade-? That didn't make any sense. Ignoring the Dark Lord, Jaune gripped the hilt as was intended and raced back in. Crocea Mors was as good as useless, but he still had a shield, and he joined the others in pressing that against the knight to inhibit his movement. Jaune was able to get it under his elbow, preventing the man pulling his arm down. He roared and tried anyway, forcing Jaune to brace his legs and push up to strain against it. Pushing up against someone pushing down should have been the other man's victory, but he was two arms to one, the knight's shield dragged down by the hands of his allies.

Like a tree being felled, the knight was slowly tilted back and back, dragged by his helmet, his shield, his arms and pushed by Taiyang at the front. There was a point, a moment of tilt where the last of his balance was lost, and then suddenly he fell. So sudden was it that Jaune fell with him, landing atop the man's armoured body.

"Yield!" Qrow shouted. He stamped a hand on the man's arm to keep the mace down, then pressed his sword right up against the knight's visor. There were vertical bars like on Jaune's own that would have stopped the sword sliding through to take his eyes, but the threat was clear all the same. "Yield now!"

"Bastards." the knight spat. "I yield."

He wasn't the only one. Across the arena, the last few pockets of fighting had come to an end, the victors for the most part as to be expected. The knights fighting in a pair had overcome their opposition, while the mercenary group in the far corner had done the same. It was a shame to see their new allies in Adam's men not among the winners, but they had entered every round of the qualifications, and likely had their best with Adam.

A horn was blown three times.

"The first round of the grand melee is over!" a crier called.

The crowd hooted, cheered and hollered their approval.

/-/

Jaune groaned as one of the tribe members Raven had brought with them sponged him down in his tent. It should have been strange to have a person he didn't know rubbing him down, and it certainly had been awkward for the first minute or so. Once the woman began to massage his shoulders however, that soon all flew out the tent flap. She'd worked out knots and kinks he hadn't realised he had, then kept going until his arms felt soft and gooey before stripping him to his smallclothes and washing him down of sweat and grime. Only then, when he was wrapped in a loose cotton robe, did she stand and walk out to deal with the next. It would have bene nice to have some more, but he knew this wasn't a service granted for his enjoyment, but to make sure they were all relaxed and ready for the next fight. Raven and the other women had been through the same.

The tent flap opened again before he could really settle down and Ruby came bounding in. She froze on seeing his state of dress, then relaxed when she realised he wasn't entirely naked under the robe. She came forward with a pair of wooden flagons and offered one to him. It reeked of beer, and quite frankly, he needed it.

"How was it out there? It looked crazy!"

"It felt worse," he said after a long drink. The beer was lukewarm but strong. "My heart is still racing."

"That's normal." Taiyang slid into the tent after Ruby. He looked excited. Satisfied. "That was your first taste of a proper battle, even if it wasn't a real one. There isn't a man alive who doesn't leave that shaken to their core and having pissed themselves."

"I didn't."

"That's because you didn't see people killed. You're lucky your first time is a tournament like this." Taiyang crossed his legs and collapsed atop a pillow. He then reached out to ruffle Ruby's hair. "Give it a few years and a few battles and that feelings will change. There's nothing like the rush of blood, the fire and the feeling of having survived. There's no feeling like it."

"Is that why you look like a maniac?" Ruby asked snidely.

Taiyang winced and forced his smile to drop a little. "Aye. Ahah." He chuckled and let go of her hair to take another drink. "Been near on twenty years since I had a proper fight and I guess I lost myself to it. Your mother was no different though, don't think otherwise. Summer hated sitting still."

"I don't know that I could ever get used to this." Jaune said.

"You'd be surprised. You seen the people out there?"

The winners, he meant. The camps were loud with raucous singing, dancing, drinking and whoring. It was impossible not to hear it happening – all of it – especially when their party had been accosted on the way back by a gaggle of voluptuous women offering pleasure for coin. Jaune had stammered his way through it, only to nearly faint when Qrow had swung an arm around the shoulders of two and taken them back to his tent. It wasn't only women selling their bodies for coin either. Given the women's tournaments, there were a fair few handsome men coming and going, some from Raven's tent. Taiyang hadn't looked bothered by that, nor had he entertained anyone.

Ruby, on the other hand, reflected his feelings, blushing to the roots of her hair and refusing to so much as look at Qrow ever since.

"The two of you." Taiyang shook his head. "So sheltered."

"You sheltered me!" Ruby squeaked.

"Surviving a battle is a rush like you've never felt. You don't appreciate life until it's almost taken away from you. All that… well, that's just people appreciating certain aspects of it. You think this is bad, you should see the aftermath of a war. That's when people turn into real beasts. This is harmless enough." He grinned. "If you don't take it too seriously. I'm surprised you're not tempted," he told Jaune. "There are some pretty lasses out there. I've a little coin. Want me to-?"

Taiyang ducked Ruby's angry punch, grinning wide enough to show he'd not only expected it, but looking for it. He burst out laughing while his daughter fumed and turned an angry shade of crimson. "He's not like that!"

"I'm not." Jaune agreed, a little pink in the cheeks himself. It really didn't help that their tent wasn't far from Qrow's, and that Qrow was either very good at what he did or very well-endowed. Or the women were selling the act as well as their bodies. "Things like this didn't happen in Ansel. They just didn't."

"Yeah, well, you're not in Ansel now." Taiyang said. "The city is a different beast. Better in some ways, worse in others, but where coin flows downhill, so too do people's boundaries. See now why I didn't want you wandering around alone?" he asked Ruby. "Last thing I want is someone to get the wrong idea and try to pay you for a night."

"I'd never!" Ruby squawked.

"Some men here would take that as playing hard to get."

Jaune's eyes widened. "You mean they'd-"

"Not in Vale." Taiyang said quickly. "Not so close to the guards or the Church. That kind of shit would get dealt with quick – same as killing someone intentionally in the melee. No, they'd not risk that, but they might cop a feel or get frisky with her until it was clear she meant no. Like I said, men don't think straight when they've come back from battle. The kindest man can become the hungriest beast."

Jaune shook his head and took another drink. He couldn't believe it himself, partly because he didn't feel the same way but also because that would suggest his dad had. He just couldn't picture Nicholas as someone to do all that. Stupid. He was a mercenary. He probably spent his coin at a whorehouse just like everyone else. He just didn't understand why he felt less relieved and more exhausted.

"There was never any fear of death from which to thirst for life…"

Jaune flinched. Again?

"Hey, Taiyang…"

"Hm?"

"When we fought that knight. I…" He wondered how best to say it. "My sword was pretty useless."

"It would be. A sword is a weapon of status – half of that status is in the fact it does better at killing weak peasants than other nobles. At least when you're fighting them in battle and not stabbing them in the back. We should ask Raven if you can borrow a hammer for when we go up against those in armour."

"It's not that." Jaune shook his head. "I… He spoke to me."

"He?" Taiyang looked confused for all of half a second, then worried. "Oh. Him. Shit. Uh. What did he say?"

"Told me to pick up the sword by the blade and strike the knight with the hilt."

"Half-swording?"

Jaune looked up. "It's a thing?"

"Course it is." Taiyang said with a chuckle. "That thing is metal all over – you hit someone with the crossguard, it's going to be like a mallet to the skull. You don't normally bother unless you're up close. There's a point where you're so close to a man the length of the blade works against you. Grip it like so." He motioned as if holding both the hilt and halfway down the blade at once. "And you've basically got yourself a longer knife. Or you can swing the pommel around like the world's smallest mace. I expect that's what he meant. Might have rattled the knight if you got a good hit to the helm."

It was real, then, and the Dark Lord had offered good advice. Jaune really wasn't sure what to make of that. It wasn't that he expected the Dark Lord to intentionally trip him up or go against him – it was better for his eventual takeover if Jaune survived after all – but he wasn't sure if he should be taking the advice or not. On the one hand, accepting any help from an evil demon was a poor choice. On the other, he was as good as doomed anyway, wasn't he? Was turning down perfectly good advice really the right choice? It felt petty for the sake of being petty.

The Church would probably disagree.

"He's not telling you to do anything bad, is he?" Ruby asked.

"No. He was just commenting on the fight."

"Be careful either way." Taiyang said. "And keep this between yourselves. This is the capital city. It's not a safe place to be bringing things like this up."

/-/

Sleeping in the camp wasn't easy. Not because of fear, anxiety or the promise of the Dark Lord's whispers, but because of the sheer noise of so many people drinking, whoring or just snoring. Taiyang had told him to just wait until exhaustion kicked in and took care of it for him; that it wouldn't matter because the next bout wasn't until tomorrow and after the noon bells. He would get tired and fall asleep eventually even if he didn't want to.

It was just a shame that was so slow to come.

Shucking off his blankets, Jaune climbed out the cocoon he'd made for himself and pulled on a loose tunic. Ruby didn't notice, somehow managing to stay asleep nearby despite the noise and despite that she hadn't worn herself out in the arena. He pushed out the tent and to the campfire that Qrow was sat at, a drink in his hand. The man looked up to Jaune with a lazy, satiated look and grinned. "Can't sleep?"

"It's too loud."

"Aye, tell me about it."

"I was going to take a walk to wear myself out. Is that alright?"

"Course it is. Just stay out the city. Not that they'll let you in, but it's not worth the hassle. I'd say not to cause any trouble, but everyone is too buzzed for that anyway." He gestured around them. It wasn't just their ring of tents, but the hundreds of others, outside of which people continued to drink, eat or gamble. "Just be sure if you bring a woman back, you find another tent to have fun in. Taiyang will have my head if you corrupt his little angel."

"I'm not going to-" Jaune groaned as Qrow grinned. "You're an asshole."

"Yeah, I am. A buzzed, happy asshole. Get out there and take your walk." He laughed quietly. "Take a drink to bed if you need it. Enough alcohol will knock a man out as sure as a cosh to the head."

Yes, and give him a hangover to work through the next day while he fought. That didn't sound like a good idea. The beer of the Branwen tribe was so much stronger to that he was used to in Ansel, likely because in Ansel the goal of it had been to relax and talk with other locals, whereas Qrow and the bandits were there for one reason and one reason only, to get as mind-blowingly drunk as possible. They likely watered down their beer with raw spirit.

As he walked out the tented area and toward the city's giant walls, he wondered if his father or their company had ever taken part in this. Obviously not for the Relic of Knowledge given that was once every hundred years, but for the annual money. It seemed like a good way for mercenaries to make it without having to risk their lives, though maybe it was less `reliable` since you had to win to walk away with anything. Some companies might have preferred actual work with regular payment.

The city's gates were closed and the guards there eyed him shrewdly until he walked away along the walls, making it clear he just wanted to see them. They went back to their quiet conversations as Jaune walked out of sight. Growing up in Ansel, he'd only ever seen wooden walls and the thought of so much stone piled high was shocking. Where had they found it all, and how had they gotten the top bits on? Each mighty stone had been hewn into a rectangular shape, but they were larger and heavier than he was. Magic? Had the Chosen or the Eternity Queen herself done this? Jaune reached out and dragged his fingers down the rock, grateful that the Dark Lord didn't chip in for once.

A twig snapped nearby and Jaune looked up to see four people walking along the path outside the wall the opposite way. They were talking quietly, dressed in leather armour with a single torch held burning between them. Likely a patrol by the colours. Jaune let go of the wall lest they thought him checking it for weaknesses and moved past them.

A shoulder slammed into his as he did, driving through him and knocking him into the wall. Jaune winced as his back struck stone, not having expected it. The other obviously had, because he swung his shoulder with as much force as possible and was all too quick to round on him and snap, "Out of my way!"

"Apologise!" another snapped at Jaune, a hand falling to a cudgel at his side. "You knocked into your better, knave. Apologise now!"

He knocked into me, Jaune though with a grimace. Still, he wasn't one to court trouble. "I'm sorry I bumped into you."

"Sir, he might have stolen your coin pouch," another said.

"You know what, Sky, I think that he has." The one in the middle sneered. "Search him. And be thorough-"

"Baron Winchester's son." The interruption came before the three men could even begin to advance on him. Jaune, back to the wall, looked past to a pale face set with red hair. Adam. Beside him was his companion, Blake, with her yellow eyes glowing faintly.

The man – a noble? – snarled. "What of it? This man has stolen from me."

"Has he?" Adam asked. "Then let us take him and you to the guards so that this matter can be dealt with quickly. You wouldn't mind of course. As someone who competed in the melee, you're held to the same laws as us despite your birth."

"Are you doubting me?"

"Adam isn't." Blake said. "But some might, seeing as how you were knocked out the melee by this person and his group. Some might even say you were trying to get your own back on them for besting you."

Besting-? This was the knight? Jaune looked the man up and down, but without his heavy armour it was hard to tell. He was tall enough for sure, and the voice sounded vaguely familiar. Not enough for him to place. We took down a baron's son in the melee. Is that a problem? Obviously to him, it was, but Jaune worried what else it might bring.

"I hear your father, the Baron, is a very strict and law-abiding man." Adam said. "He would surely see this matter to its conclusion. As the wronged party, I'm sure you have nothing to worry about. No?"

The noble didn't answer for a moment, and when he did it was with a scoff. "Leave him," he ordered his men. "Cowards who would fight a man six on one are not worth our time." His piece said, the noble yanked on his cloak and stormed ahead, leaving his three men to glare angrily at them before racing to catch up.

Once they were gone, Jaune let out a quick breath. "Thank you – you saved me."

"Needling an arrogant human is reward enough on its own." Adam smirked, and Jaune heard a faint laugh from his partner. "Seeing him taken out in the first round was all the better."

"What else can you expect of a man who charges a shield wall alone?" Blake asked. "He obviously left his brain in his other breeches."

Or he thought his superior breeding and equipment would carry the day against what he assumed were a bunch of peasants. No one would actually mistake the well-armed Branwen tribe for that, but perhaps they all looked alike to the fabulously wealthy. "Will there be any consequences in knocking a noble out the melee?"

"There shouldn't be, but it depends on how vengeful the noble feels. Best ignore them until the finals." Blake said. "There is no way they will dare act up in front of so many witnesses."

"As for Winchester," Adam added, "Rumour has it the baron let his son enter alone to teach him humility, so I wouldn't expect reprisal there. As you can see, it's worked wonders on the man."

Jaune managed a weak smile. "Yeah. Thanks for helping me. Were you out taking a walk as well?"

Blake and Adam exchanged looks. "Something like that," he said in a way that made it clear there was more to the answer. "How about we walk together? I have a proposition I'd like to put forward after seeing you and yours in the tournament."

"Didn't we already agree to spare one another?"

"We did, but there were as many knights in full plate in my round as there was in yours – and they're going to be problematic later. Us smallfolk need to band together, no? Why don't you come to our camp and meet our leader?"

"I can't make any decisions."

"I know. Neither can I. But better you pitch the idea to your people than I. Consider it repaying the favour here if you will. Come and listen. That's all I ask."

Time to go cook Sunday dinner as my parents are coming round tonight and they expect a full roast. Yum.

Next Chapter: 22nd May

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