Chương 113: [Scoping Out The Competition]

The street they'd come down that morning had changed. A vendor had set up on the corner with a stack of small cages, each one holding a creature about the size of a large rat but rounder, moving slowly on four stubby legs beneath a domed shell that shifted through amber and green as it caught the light. The vendor had his hands cupped around one that had crawled onto his forearm, its shell cycling through a slow pulse of blue.

"Companions for the home," he was calling out.

"A light in the dark, a friend for the lonely, hardy enough for a child." Leo watched one press its flat nose against the cage wire and thought the kids would lose their minds over it. Further down the street the crowd had thickened around something that hadn't been there before — four women setting up a row of games along the wall. Wooden targets, rope rings, a tall frame with a bell at the top and a mallet propped against it. The setup was familiar enough. The women were less so.

Two were half-orcs, broad shouldered and tall, moving the heavy equipment without any visible effort. A third was a wolf beast-kin with grey furry ears and a tail, currently arguing cheerfully with a man trying to get a look at the prizes before the stall opened. The fourth was human, dark haired, directing the others from the centre of it. They were wearing fur lined leather that covered the essentials and not a great deal else. Shai appeared at Leo's shoulder.

"They pass through most years. One of them grew up in a family of travelling bards — Mary, shes the human. The others wanted to see more of the region so they go from place to place. The games fund the travelling."

"So we've got giant hot barbarian carnies," Phil said. One of the half-orcs looked up from the crate she was lifting. She didn't know what a carnie was but she'd heard the rest of it clearly enough.

"Find me later, sugar," she said, without breaking stride. Phil shot her a wink. She grinned and went back to the crate. Shai shook her head once and kept walking. The crowd thickened again as they got closer to the arena, bunching around a long board propped against the outer wall. Men and women with quills and parchment were working along it, taking coins, making marks, fielding arguments from three directions at once.

"Betting board," Shai said, before Leo had to ask. Her eyes moved along the crowd and stopped.

"Theres Bredic." Leo followed her gaze. The guard from the gate that morning was near the front of the crowd, speaking to one of the people taking bets.

"Looks like he listened to your advice," Leo said.

"Almost certainly," said Shai. Ronan fell into step beside the four lads as they turned the last corner toward the entrance, dropping his voice.

"The people left in that bracket aren't the ones who lost early. Whatever you think you know about your next opponent from watching them in the thirty-two, assume it's half the picture. They've been watching you too." He looked at each of them in turn.

"Don't go down there thinking this round is a step up from the last one. Treat it like it's the final." The lads nodded. The group split at the entrance, Rika pointed at Phil.

"If you lose I'm going to laugh and point, make sure you notice so I can get a good picture."

"Lovely as ever Rika," said Phil. Parmo clapped him on the shoulder, then wished them good luck before turning and walking away. Leo watched them head toward the stands, then followed Kai and Shai down into the tunnel. The waiting area was the same room but it didn't feel like it. Half the people were now gone, those left each presenting serious competition. The noise level had dropped, the loose pre-tournament energy gone. Some were stretching in corners. Others just sat, weapons across their laps.

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"Feels way less relaxed in here now," Phil said, keeping his voice down.

"Yeah," Sam said.

"I wonder if this is what the changing rooms at half time feel like in footie." Leo looked around. He recognised most of them from the Round of 32 — the glaive across Klaus's back, Ivaran's net folded neatly at his hip, the axe of the stocky dwarf near the far wall. Luka nudged him.

"Gomir introduced himself after my fight. You see the glow coming off his arms — " He kept his voice low.

"that's from runes under his skin. He made it seem like they grow naturally and change colour and shape depending on what you do. His are red cos he's a fighter."

"Like a natural tattoo?" Phil said.

"No. I made the mistake of saying that and he didn't seem pleased. But yeah, they have different colours for what sounded like castes." As if on cue, a loud laugh broke across the room from the far corner. Gomir, settled on a bench with his axe propped beside him, was grinning at something the fighter next to him had said. Several heads turned, a few people smiling despite themselves. The red light under Gomir's forearms pulsed faintly when he moved.

"He seems to be fitting in," said Sam.

"Yeah, he came across as a good guy. Has the whole scottish accent as well, it's pretty cool," said Luka. Leo let his eyes move around the room more deliberately. There was a dual-axe fighter near the wall who didn't seem to find the dwarves antics funny. He looked to be studying Gomir more than anything. He was Short, broad, with a bald head and a nasty looking scar running across his nose from cheek to cheek. The guy looked like he'd been in a lot of fights. Yannick was easier to spot.

Leo remembered his name from one of the later fights, the poleaxe he used was hard to forget. It was propped against the wall beside him while he rolled his shoulders. Phil was already looking at him.

"Big weapon," Phil said quietly.

"Pretty slow though," Leo said.

"That isn't going to matter," Sam said without looking up. He'd been watching Ivaran fold and unfold a section of the net absently.

"When he fought earlier, he looked slow most of the fight, the exception being the 3 times he actually attacked. All three landed and were fast. Whether that was to lure his opponent in or he was saving his energy, I don't know." Phil nodded.

"I didn't notice. Good to know." Ivaran caught Sam watching and gave him a pleasant nod across the room. Sam nodded back. Leo knew Sam was most worried about him, his net a real issue for Sams fast paced style of fighting. Nessa had drifted across the room to where Klaus's trainer was standing — a well muscled woman Leo thought might be of the bear beast-kin subrace.

Her close cropped grey hair and a constantly straight backed posture that made Leo think she was probably closer in training style to Kai than Nessa or Shai. Leo didn't know her name. She and Nessa were talking quietly, clearly old acquaintances from the guard. Shai joined them a moment later, the other trainer smiling at whatever she said. Klaus was a few feet away from all three of them, arms folded, glaive at his back. He wasn't warming up. He wasn't watching the room.

He was just standing there, a pissed off look, staring off into space. Leo had watched Klaus in the last round. Disciplined and skilled despite being a little showy. This wasn't that. Whatever was running through Klaus's head seemed to be visibly iritating the man. He noted it and moved on. Klaus's eyes moved briefly to Shai then away again. He found Locke on a bench near the tunnel entrance, legs stretched out, ankles crossed, staring at the ceiling. The kolven were on the bench beside him.

He looked like a man ready to take a nap, not fight in front of hundreds of people. Leo could respect the level of calm he had. Leo sat down next to him. Locke glanced sideways.

"Your mate with the maul's got good hands."

"Yeah, he's pretty good. Used to do unarmed combat a few years back."

"Did he really? Seems like my kind of guy." He grinned and looked back at the ceiling.

"You're not bad either. Meira can be a pain to beat. Her guard's usually solid and she just doesn't stop." He nodded faintly in Kai's direction.

"He train you?" Leo nodded.

"Yeah, felt like he was trying to kill me the first few days." Locke laughed.

"Yeah, I can see him being the sort. You excited for our match?"

"I am. I was nervous coming into this, it's my first tournament. I think I've caught the bug though."

"Caught the bug?"

"Just an expression from back home. Means I want more."

"I'm going to come at you fast," Locke said conversationally, like he was discussing the weather.

"Probably from the first step. I don't really do the feeling out thing, it bores me." He picked up one of the kolven and turned it over in his hand.

"Just thought I'd tell you."

"I expected as much." Leo smirked and channeled a little of his inner Phil.

"It won't make a difference. Losing to the eventual winner isn't a bad way to go out though." Locke laughed.

"Oh yeah? Well seeing as you seem like a fun guy, I won't make you look silly when you lose. Don't want to show you up too bad in front of your girl there." He nodded to Shai.

"Nice work by the way. I happen to know she has quite the big fanbase round here. I know of at least one person not taking it well..." He looked over at Klaus.

"That's the reason he looks like that? I had no idea. Well anyway, I'll see you out there man." Leo held up a fist. Locke looked at it.

"Whats that?"

"It's called a fist bump. You touch your fist to mine. You could think of it as a friendly greeting between warriors." Locke smiled and bumped his fist against Leo's.

"I like it." Leo nodded and walked back to the others.

"Well?" said Phil.

"He's going to come at me fast from the start."

"He told you that?"

"Yeah." Phil stared at him.

"What kind of person tells you their strategy beforehand?"

"Someone who doesn't think it matters if you know," said Sam. The thought settled over the group for a moment. The announcer's voice rolled down from above, slightly muffled by stone. Round of sixteen. First fighters to the tunnel. Luka and Gregor. Leo looked at Luka. Luka flexed his hands once and picked up his maul.