The Storm King

The Tyrrhenian River was wide and deep, and though it continued for a long ways past the city where Leon and his people would be proceeding on foot, the Heaven’s Eye yacht was much too large and cumbersome to travel further. Getting everything organized to continue overland would take a few days, so Leon and his family and retinue decided to head out into the city to see what entertainments could be found.

The city itself was under the control of the Samar Kingdom, and it showed in its architecture and layout. It was built in a wide half-circle against the river, with shorter, stubbier buildings made of local stone and timber, while the more important buildings were built of enchanted black glass. The Samarids called it Akhmim, but apparently it had once been a trading outpost of a small petty Kingdom called Ipu. Being the city furthest up the Tyrrhenian River that had artificially deepened the river to accommodate large-scale trade, and being so close to the border of three different states—the Samar Kingdom, Asturias, and the Cortuban Alliance—Leon learned from Elise that it had changed hands many times in the past few millennia.

Akhmim struck him as quite similar to Ariminium—the latter was located in a strategically important place, had a deep population pool, and was also right on the border between several Kingdoms, notably the Bull and Talfar Kingdoms, who’d fought each other many times over recent centuries for control over the city.

But that thematic resonance was where the similarities ended, for Akhmim was a Samarid city through and through, with a vastly different culture and feel to it than Ariminium.

Eager to see the city’s culture for himself, Leon left the yacht with Elise, Maia, and Valeria at his side. The rest of his retinue could handle themselves, and he saw Anshu go off on his own, while Marcus, Alcander, Alix, and Gaius all went out together.

Leon and his family spent the day traveling through the more tourist-focused areas, with plentiful food and entertainment to be found. Street performers showing off their flamboyant skills with magic, throwing around fire and light to the delight of their audience, were common. Food stalls abounded, many selling various kinds of kebab or other portable food, nearly all of which had Leon’s mouth watering with hunger as soon as he encountered their heavenly aromas.

The city’s roads were all built like concentric circles around the city’s core, where the administrative buildings lay, as well as the local Heaven’s Eye enclave. The largest thoroughfare, however, ran through the center of the city, and was covered by a long roof supported by innumerable sandstone columns. This far south, they were largely out of the desert of the Samar Kingdom, but it was still quite warm outside during the day and the people wanted to be able to explore the markets in the shade and with good airflow. Nearly all other streets with heavy traffic were provided with shade by rows of perfectly-spaced palm trees.

Leon appreciated it, especially when they stopped at a small forum where the locals were selling multicolored garments in more styles than Leon could count, and they decided to take a short break from wandering around the city and window shop in this district a little. Leon largely didn’t pay much attention to what the others were looking at, being a little more preoccupied with some of the local street performers who had trained birds and small monkeys to dance and sing.

However, he started paying a little more attention when he noticed his ladies seemingly conspiring amongst themselves, shooting him surreptitious looks with crafty smiles as they picked through some darker-colored clothes being sold by a young man flamboyantly dressed in pinks and bright greens who was eagerly holding up a men’s embroidered sleeveless vest. He didn’t quite know what they were up to, but he could hazard a guess.

Eventually, though, his interest was captured when he heard the sound of clanging metal, and after the ladies were done and had bought what they were eyeing, Leon led them toward the unmistakable sound of forging.

Not far from the forum was a small smithery. This one caught Leon’s interest when he saw that the smiths were forging armor here to complement the nearby tailors.

If he were honest with himself, he didn’t really think they were making anything special in this particular open-air smithery—just hundreds and thousands of links to turn into mail. However, he’d never really seen an armorer working before, and he found the process almost hypnotic to watch. When he thought of forging armor, he’d always thought of blacksmiths spending hours every day hammering great sheets of metal into suits of plate, and while there were a few people around doing that—with a couple of fifth-tier earth and fire mages supervising and providing some magical muscle to aid the armorers—most of the men in the smithery—and they were all men, which Leon took note of—were busy making, cutting, and wrapping wire to make mail links.

Leon wasn’t sure how long he stood by, watching those armorers turn thousands of feet of steel wire into mail with incredible teamwork and precision, making five full suits in the time he spent watching them work, with the stronger mages cutting down on the time required a great deal. It was certainly long enough that his ladies grew somewhat bored and interrupted his reverie to drag him off in search of something else to occupy their time.

But though he was taken away from the smiths, Leon found himself rather fixated on what he’d seen.

He was an enchanter, there were no doubts to that in his mind, but it occurred to him that his work was essentially dependent entirely on smiths, jewelers, and tailors. He couldn’t make anything himself, he could only enchant what others had made for him. He was still lacking armor after his suit of Magmic Steel had been destroyed once again during the campaign against Jormun, and he knew that he’d eventually need a new suit.

‘Could I make my own instead of merely commissioning someone else to make it?’ Leon found himself wondering.

His old armor, while fantastic and did the job of keeping him alive magnificently, had also been extremely limited in its ability to hold enchantments. Leon needed something better, something more versatile, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to leave even a single aspect of the armor that he would depend on to keep him safe in the hands of a smith he neither knew nor trusted.

The more he thought about it, the more the idea appealed to him. Enchantments were still his passion, but he could feel some growing embers of excitement growing within him at the thought of making his own gear from complete scratch. Of having absolute control over what he made.

The part of his brain that still demanded he find time to sleep cried out in despair, but Leon decided as he and his family walked away from the smithery, that he needed to learn the arts of blacksmithing in addition to those of enchanting.

---

The next day, Leon decided to spend the day within the guest house within the Heaven’s Eye enclave that they were staying at. Most everyone else went out, but a few people, like himself and Maia, weren’t of a mind to explore the city any further.

Or rather, they had other things to spend their time on. In Leon’s case, he spent most of his day in a large courtyard with Anzu, letting the young griffin run around and get in some exercise that he’d been missing during the long boat ride over the past month. Leon joined in some roughhousing with his griffin, but for the most part, stayed seated on a bench with his nose buried in books.

On their way home the previous day, Valeria had noticed a large bookstore, and Maia insisted that they stop and check the place out. Leon hadn’t initially thought that he’d find anything that would catch his interest, but it turned out that the store had a number of beginner’s books on blacksmithing, and he bought them all without a second look.

They weren’t exactly comprehensive manuals, but he was at least picking up some of the basest fundamentals. He’d still need a proper teacher, but he was happy that he had something to tide his curiosity over until they reached Occulara.

However, as the day grew late, people started returning. Anshu was first, having become seemingly bored with the city already and coming back to spend some time some training. Alix and Gaius were next, the two having left separately but coincidentally coming back at the same time—at least, so they claimed, but Leon noted that they didn’t exactly go their separate ways after returning.

Elise and Valeria were next, greeting Leon warmly as they strolled in, and spent some time chatting with him about what they’d found in the city. They were tired, though, and soon left Leon to his studies while they sought rest.

It was Marcus and Alcander’s return that truly disturbed Leon’s peace, though.

“Leon!” Alcander shouted upon they’re return.

Leon, lost in his book, took a moment to look up, and saw the two running toward him.

“We need you!” Marcus said with some desperation in his voice as they came to a stop only a few feet away.

“Huh?” Leon grunted as he sprang to his feet, his killing intent spiking high. “What’s wrong?” he growled. “Were you attacked? Are you all right?!”

The two froze for a moment, their expressions of entreatment freezing on their faces for a moment before changing to something more akin to appeasement.

“No, no, no, nothing like that!” Marcus hurriedly faltered.

“We found a fighting ring and we need a patron to participate!” Alcander crowed, the excitement dripping from his voice.

Leon took a deep breath and calmed himself down, letting his killing intent subside. “I see…” he whispered as his heart rate slowed. “I thought you two were in trouble or something. Thought I was going to have make a few brand new corpses out of whomever was trying to screw with my people…”

“Ah, uh, sorry about that,” Marcus replied, though a wide, appreciative smile broke out across his face. “I guess we were a little too excited. We wanted to get in on a little bit of action in this local arena, but we needed someone with greater clout to back us. We’re only going to be betting our own money if we bet at all, but we still need a patron to cover any expenses and take responsibility for any ‘trouble’ we might cause. And while we don’t know anyone around here with local prestige, the organizers did say that a mage of sufficient power would be a suitable patron!”

Leon chuckled as his body finally relaxed and his magic power died down within his blood. He glanced down at the book in his hand, and then up at the dusky sky. It had been a long day, and he’d spent nearly the entirety of it here in the courtyard reading up on the basics of blacksmithing. He supposed he could use a short reprieve.

With a wave of his hand, all of his books were pulled into his soul realm, and he said to the other two, “Give me a moment, and then we can go.”

Marcus and Alcander furiously nodded, and Leon took a few minutes to get Anzu back inside and to tell the others where he was going. Gaius, Anshu, and the rest of his family weren’t too interested in coming with, but Alix practically bounced over, declaring that she would like to see this little arena, too.

Leon smiled and shrugged. As far as he was concerned, he spent too little time with these three, anyway, and sponsoring them for some fights sounded like a fantastic way to all of them to get to know each other a little better—or at least, just to spend some time in each other’s company.

For that reason, Leon momentarily played with the idea of forcing Anshu to come with. The Indradian was still extremely aloof with the other members of Leon’s retinue, and this seemed like a way they could close that gap a little. However, Leon got the idea that it was either Anshu or Alix on this one, so he left Anshu alone, for the time being.

Half an hour later, Leon, Marcus, Alcander, and Alix all found themselves in a somewhat out-of-the-way bar down by the river. Despite the narrow, winding streets they had to make their way through to reach it, the bar itself was surprisingly large, with huge doors in the back that led out to a wooden platform built on stilts elevating it over the swampy edge of the Tyrrhenian River. The platform featured a fighting ring more than big enough for mages without elemental powers to duel, was surrounded on two sides with seats for at least a hundred or more spectators, and on the far side of the platform was a huge chalkboard filled with numerous markings keeping track of the fights, odds, and current bets.

About eighty people were already outside, drinking and loudly spectating a fight between two second-tier mages in the ring, while another forty or so people were spending their time in the bar, drinking who-knew-what, for at least some of them were mages and yet still seemed fairly drunk.

Upon their arrival, Marcus and Alcander went over to the man who Leon assumed to be running the fights, a fifth-tier mage who seemed to be a Samarid if his bronze skin and loose white robes were any indication, and asked to join the fights, with Alix just behind them. Leon didn’t have to say much other than make it clear that he was their patron, and soon enough, the three were added to the chalkboard—though Alix had to argue a little more vociferously to get her name up there. It didn’t seem like there were many female fighters around, and the organizer adamantly refused to have Alix fight a man. Eventually, though, he consented to having Alix’s name added to the much smaller bracket of female fighters—with some tacit prodding by way of Leon glaring threateningly at him until he agreed.

Leon and the others then took their seats and waited for their fights to begin. The other three were practically bouncing with excitement, but Leon was more tranquil, choosing to observe their competition.

For the most part, he wasn’t that impressed, but that was sort of to be expected—the next half dozen fights were between pairs of mages second-tier or weaker. It seemed that the ‘real’ fights between stronger mages weren’t to begin until later.

Leon was fairly surprised that mages that strong were even participating in bar fights, but that surprise soon dissipated when he glanced at Marcus, Alcander, and Alix, all of whom were in the fourth-tier and couldn’t contain their eagerness. He supposed that his three retainers were far from unique in this regard.

When he sensed a lull in their conversation, he leaned over and asked his three followers, “So, why look for fights in a place like this?”

Alcander was the first to respond, and he gave Leon an unabashed smile and said, “Seemed like fun!”

Marcus offered a little more information, “We asked around for good places to spend some time and money, and the locals pointed us in this direction. As rustic as it is, apparently this is quite the spot for amateurs to come and fight. Some guilds, mercenary companies, and gladiator teams will even sometimes come and watch, looking for new blood to add to their ranks.”

Leon nodded. This wasn’t the most prestigious of places, but people did strange things to get noticed. And from what he could tell from the bets people were shouting to the bookie, this wasn’t a bad place to earn a little pocket change. By his estimation, if he were to bet a hundred silvers on the winner of every fight, he could walk away with seven or eight thousand silvers. Of course, that would be in the best case scenario, but even then, the betting didn’t truly capture his attention—especially since there were relatively low caps for an individual bet.

“Looks like they can have coaches and others in their corner,” Leon observed, noticing that for the current fight, and for many others prior, there were older men standing in the fight’s corner shouting advice.

“You going to do that for us?” Alix asked half-seriously.

“Might do,” Leon said with a smile. “I don’t claim to be a fighting expert, but surely there can be some pointers I can give, no?”

“I, for one, would welcome any tips you might have!” Alcander loudly declared, attracting some attention, and little of it was friendly. Leon could feel more glares than stares, and as the bar filled up a bit more with the bigger fights drawing closer, there were more and more people of local dress and skin tone. It suddenly occurred to Leon just how obvious it was that he and his group were foreign.

He put it out of mind, though. He utterly outclassed everyone present, and while he resolved to keep his eyes open for anything, he wasn’t that worried about someone trying something stupid.

‘I think I’ll refrain from the local brews, though…’ he idly mused as he thought he felt a brief hint of killing intent coming their way from some of the bartenders.

“Looks like we have some newcomers!” a voice boomed across the bar, pulling Leon out of his thoughts.

He glanced over to the source of the voice, and he saw walking through the door a dozen men and three women walking into the bar. Eight of the men and two of the women were dressed in fairly skintight apparel that made it clear they were here to fight, but it wasn’t any of them who’d spoken. Instead, it was the fifth-tier leader of their group, a rather doughy-looking fellow with sunken eyes; tanned, oily skin; short, greasy hair; a prominent pot-belly; and expensive-looking robes of green silk that did not a thing to complement his soft and unattractive appearance.

In the wake of the arrival of the doughy-man’s group, and Leon could see a few of the weaker spectators either averting their eyes from fear or were staring at his group in what looked like anticipation.

“And they look like they’re a pack of cows from up north, too!” the man shouted, staring at Leon’s group with undisguised disgust and scorn. “Wonderful! It’s always a good day for steak!”

The entire bar burst into frenzied whispering as their eyes darted between Leon’s rather perplexed group and the newcomers.

“They’re up for fights, want to send in your guys against them?” the man running the fights inquired with traces of respect and deference to his tone, and a lazy, friendly half-smile on his lips.

“Absolutely!” the doughy-man roared. “This isn’t the place for these little calves, so let’s smack them around a bit!”

A few chuckles rang out from the spectators, though they seemed more anticipatory than anything.

Leon himself wasn’t too insulted, but he could feel the crowd was on the doughy-man’s side. It seemed that his retinue picked up on that, as well, because he could feel the excitement within Marcus, Alcander, and Alix dying down, replaced with determined anger.

“It seems we’re fighting these guys,” Leon murmured to his people. “You three had better win your fights. We can not leave this place after being insulted by this fat shitstain.”

His words were heard by the doughy-man, and his eyes bulged out and his face turned red with anger. Those around Leon who weren’t part of his group went quiet and started nervously scooting away from him to make it clear they weren’t with him.

“… Do you know who I am, boy?!” the doughy-man screamed, the clear difference in magical power between the two of them apparently not even a concern.

Leon shrugged. “No.”

The doughy-man went quiet for a moment, his eyes squinting the dim light of the bar. Then, a disgusting smile swept across his lips, and he glanced over his shoulder at whom Leon assumed to be his best fighter.

“Get in the ring,” he growled, and the giant of a man responded immediately, his fourth-tier aura vigorous and billowing out from his body. “You, boy! You’ll know who I am when this is done! And once I’m through with you, you’ll wish you’d shown me more respect! But don’t worry, instead of having you beaten and thrown to wild dogs, I’ll only have you enslaved for a decade to make up for this insult!”

Leon had to fight the urge to laugh at this man’s attitude, only truly succeeding when Alcander rose from the bench and made his way to the ring to face off against the doughy-man’s first fighter.

“If you lose, I will personally ensure that that this will be carved upon your tombstone, that all may know of your shame!” Marcus called after him.

Alcander just turned and flashed them a confident smile.

It was time to fight.