The Grand Tournament Read online

Morgan nodded, understanding what Azil was trying to say.

  “Good. Now that we are finished with the talk, I think we should have you go through the usual exercises,” Azil said with an evil glint in his eyes.

  Morgan’s expression fell. “I thought we were done with that stuff.”

  “Oh, we most assuredly are not. You are still barely utilizing your ascended body,” Azil said and stood up, slowly making his way toward Morgan.

  Well, fuck me, now I remember why I hate him, Morgan grumbled inwardly as he resigned himself to another training session in hell.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Nearly two months later Morgan was sequestered in his private lab which was attached to the back of the Guild Hall. It was an oversized oval shack, with a small greenhouse attached to it. At the moment he was sitting in the dirt, his hands covered in it and placed over a small mound. The dirt was filled with fertilizer and there was a water-irrigation system built beneath it—it made it easier for Morgan to experiment, as he didn’t need to put too much of his own energy into plants for them to grow. Instead, he could just gather it from the soil. There were few plants in the small greenhouse, contrary to what one might think. He didn’t need to cultivate and grow plants over several months, after all—if he needed something he could just put the seed in the ground and force it to grow in a matter of minutes at most.

  But now he was not attempting to grow something ordinary, he was attempting a mutation of a mutation. He had spent months combining and altering plants, hoping to get a perfect plant for his needs. It hadn’t gone as he had hoped, however, as evidenced by the fact that he had still not managed to get what he wanted. He hoped that this last attempt would be more successful.

  His nature, life, energy flowed from his hands down into the soil, into the several seeds he had planted. He visibly shook from the exertion of manipulating that energy in the form he wanted, as well as by pushing the energy of his other alignment into it. His Phytokinesis allowed him finer control of the plant, while his Life Sense showed him the flow of life energy. He was attempting to bond his other alignment into the plant. He knew that it was possible; he might not have been some great student, but he had taken a few classes in biology. The botany portion hadn’t been all that interesting or long, but he remembered being taught about hyperaccumulators, plants that could extract metals from the soil and use it in their structure. He knew that because he remembered thinking how that was completely and absolutely metal. Hah, I crack myself up sometimes.

  He shook his head and concentrated. The soil was rich with such metals—he had put them there for his experiments. He was sure that what he was imagining was not possible on Earth, at least not without some space-age technology, but here on this world where there was magic, he was hopeful. His Herbalism skill gave him knowledge about a lot of plants, and some of them had properties that he had utilized in creating this new species. This world had some strange plant life, from plants that could literally move themselves and that acted more like monsters, to things like vines that had restorative properties. Morgan had spent much of his private wealth on buying samples in Irus for him to experiment on afterward. He had used his skills and abilities to merge them into a monster plant—and now it only needed one small thing.

  Suddenly he could feel something click into place, and a small sapling rose from the ground. With his senses Morgan could feel that the plant had extracted the metals in the soil available to it. Morgan stopped its growth and then refocused. Ever since he had realized that he could feed a plant with his life-energy substituting food, he had wondered if he could do similar things with his other alignment. He couldn’t create something out of nothing: that was one rule on this world that Morgan had found was absolute. He could substitute many things with his own energy, however, so he tried to feed the plant only pure metal energy. The plant started to grow. He could feel it letting its roots spread into the ground and all around him, and the plant extended upward, a single stem which quickly turned from pale green to a dark green color, several smaller branches extended from the stem sprouting leaves. Morgan stopped its growth and looked at it.

  He could tell that it could grow more, that this wasn’t its full growth, that there was more that would change within it. He had put many plants together, picked attributes for the best combat utility. There was no need for it to grow more, however—he could see that he had succeeded.

  The plant resembled something between a cactus and a root. The stem was about as thick as Morgan’s thigh, round, with four protrusions at equal distances from one another, going from the bottom to top where they met in what looked like a deadly spike. These protrusions looked more like wires inside the plant that stuck out, and were black in color. The rest of the plant was dark green, with a strange metallic sheen to it. The three branches were extending to the side, and he could see the same black structure as the protrusions lining the pointed leaves that grew directly out of the branches, looking like they were spikes that were being peeled back. Inside of the mass of leaves Morgan could see an undeveloped bundle of white matter that resembled a flower, but Morgan knew it wasn’t.

  He sat back and looked at it. I did it. He couldn’t believe he had managed it. He reached out with his hand and touched it, feeling the surface. The dark green part seemed tough, not really like it was made out of metal, but a very tough plant matter. Through his senses he could tell that there was metal in its structure, but the protrusions were completely metallic. He didn’t know what kind; he had provided only his energy, but it seemed like it had somehow copied the metals that he had put into the soil, which was mostly nickel but also dark iron—probably what gave it the black coloring. The edges were sharp almost blade like, and the leaves likewise. The leaves looked like knives’ edges, and a tap on them with his fingers produced a sharp pain and a swelling of blood on his finger. He could sense undeveloped parts of the plant, things he had picked and chosen from other plants and added to this one. Magic is cool as all shit, Morgan had to conclude. Months of work had finally paid off. He was certain that what he had done wouldn’t have been possible otherwise. He looked at his ugly creation and then he started to laugh aloud somewhat hysterically.

  He was so lost in his amusement and joy that he hadn’t noticed that someone had entered his lair.

  “What is wrong with you, Morgan?” He heard Clara’s voice and turned around to look at her with an evil glint in his eyes. She took a step back and frowned. “Why are you laughing like a maniac, and why do you have the look of an evil person?”

  “Because, dear bestie mine, I have finally done it! Behold my greatest achievement yet: the Chimera Plant!” Morgan exclaimed and pointed at his newest achievement with pride.

  “An ugly weed is your greatest achievement?” Clara asked, unimpressed.

  “What? Can’t you see the greatness?” Morgan said as he looked back at the plant. On the second look, it didn’t really look all that impressive. It was somewhat bland, but that was only because it wasn’t fully grown.

  Before he could defend his creation, Clara shook her head. “Whatever, Morgan. I just came to let you know that we are leaving for Al’Valor in two hours. You better be ready.”

  “Wait, that was today?” Morgan asked. That should be days from now!

  “Morgan, I literally came down here three hours ago to remind you,” Clara said exasperatedly.

  “Uh… I don’t remember that,” Morgan scratched at his head.

  “The registration for the tournament is closing tomorrow and we have agreed to go a day early to get settled in. You remember that, right?”

  “Uh…”

  “Doesn’t matter—just get ready. Oh, and Artos finished our gear yesterday. Ves took yours to your room if you wanted to go and take a look.” She looked him over with distaste. “And go clean yourself, please. You stink.” With that, Clara turned around and left him alone in the glass house.

  Morgan scratched his head. He had been spending days at a time in his lab, wor
king on so many projects that he had lost track of the time. That his gear was finished was great, and he knew that he should go and check it out before they headed out, but he trusted Artos that everything is order. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen what he had been crafting; Artos had called them all for fittings and measurements, as well as for smaller adjustments. This was just the final product.

  He walked back to his plant and put some life energy into it, manipulating the plant to produce seeds, which he needed. He filled a few pouches with them and then walked back into his lab proper. There were several tables there. One side of the room was all covered in flasks filled with powders, liquids, and all kinds of other things, while the other was covered with pieces of metal, wood, and various devices that were half built or lay broken. Morgan grimaced at the mess, but he quickly moved to a large chest on his left.

  Inside were two large boxes each filled to the brim with things that could most appropriately be described as “stuff.” One of the crates held his small throwing canisters, or as he liked to call them, Orbs of Mischief, Fire, and Death. The orb-like canisters were made out of wood simply because it was easy for Morgan to create them. All he needed was a piece of wood and he could use his skills to form a thin and relatively brittle shell that would crack on impact. With his experiments, he had managed to create mutated plants that had all kinds of properties; in doing so, he had managed to make something that could hold all kinds of dangerous stuff. The other box had various assortments of things, from a forearm-mounted slingshot to bags with seeds and woven plant pouches.

  Morgan reached to a pouch on his back and pulled out a ring of holding. Over the last two months, as they had prepared, they had made a few purchases for things that they thought would come in handy. Lucius had gone back to Irus and gotten a few more rings of holding for all of them. The one Morgan now put on his finger had enough room inside of it for the two boxes and a bit more, so he went around his lab and gathered anything and everything that he thought might be useful.

  Finally finished, he walked out of the lab and into the Guild Hall, heading straight for the bath, taking Clara’s advice.

  * * *

  About half an hour later, now clean and refreshed, Morgan walked into his room at the top of the Hall. Ves was nowhere to be seen, but he could see that she had set out his gear for him on the bed. Morgan grinned and walked over, getting undressed and putting the cloth garments on first. A glance with his Inspect skill told him the items’ levels.

  Garments of the Night Stalker LVL 24 (4 set) — When the entire set is worn, the wearer becomes just a bit harder to be noticed in the dark.

  It wasn’t much, but it was a good thing to have. Guild clothiers had made him simple but tough black pants and a long-sleeved shirt, along with knee-high boots that fastened tight around his calves. After he put them on, he fastened a green sash around his waist, tightening the tucked-in shirt. Then came thin cloth vambraces to complete the look. After that he grabbed a wide black leather belt, filled with slots for him to attach his pouches and mounts for his orbs, and put it around his waist and tightened it. It was the same level as the garments: a solid, high-quality piece of gear that wouldn’t tear or break that easily. Lastly he turned to the gear Artos had made for him. There wasn’t much, as Morgan’s style didn’t really require much armor, but there were some pieces present nonetheless. Morgan reached down and pulled up a shoulder piece and a sleeve gauntlet made out of light silver metal. They were simple things, but he knew that that could be deceptive. He used Inspect on them.

  Mithril Spaulder of Fire Resistance LVL 28 (2 set) — When the set is worn, it provides the user with 10% fire resistance.

  Mithril Gauntlet of Fire Resistance LVL 28 (2 set) — When the set is worn, it provides the user with 10% fire resistance.

  Artos was a great smith, but he was not a really high-level one. He could make high-quality gear, but it didn’t really have effects of its own. Titus had been the one to enchant them and give them effects, but since his alignment was fire he could only do things which were in his area of expertise. Still, it was a solid effect. The two pieces of gear were light, made out of mithril, which was both light and tough. It wasn’t the toughest material in the world—many were better—but it was incredibly light for the amount of damage that it could take. They hadn’t had much of it, only a few bars that they had looted from a dungeon about a year ago, but the only one who could use gear made out of it was Morgan, since he was the only one in their group who barely wore armor.

  Morgan put the two pieces of gear on. The spaulder had a leather harness that he tied across his chest and around his upper arm. The leather strap that went across his chest had a wider piece of leather with slots made into it for him to put throwing knives, which were in a small box on the bed. Morgan opened it up and looked at seven black knives. They looked close enough to the standard throwing knives from Earth, since that is what Morgan had described to Artos. He quickly put them on, sliding each into its slot on his chest. Next came the gauntlet, which he secured on his left hand, the same as the one as the spaulder. It left his fingers and palm free, since he needed to be able to maneuver and actually grab things unobstructed. The most important things, however, were the mount slots on top of the mithril vambrace that covered his forearm.

  Morgan grinned as he turned to look at the second larger box. Opening it, he pulled out a crossbow. It was smaller than a handheld one would be, but it was supposed to be mounted on his hand. He slid it in the slots on the mithril vambrace and heard it click into place. It was a bit bulky, but it wasn’t as heavy as it looked to be. It was made out of mithril and light wood, but it packed a good punch. Not as much as his bow, but for close to mid-range it was perfect. Most of its bulk came from the magazine on top of the firing mechanism. Morgan hadn’t known the details of how such a magazine could be made so that it reloaded itself, but between him and Artos they had managed. It had room for six bolts, and could fire them at a rate of one every two seconds—not really a fully automatic, but close enough.

  He had gained another ability as well, Energy Projectile, and his previous ability Energy Arrow had been consolidated into the new ability, carrying over its levels. That meant that he could even fire energy bolts with the crossbow. Still, he needed the physical bolts as it was not wise to always spend energy. He used his Inspect skill on the crossbow to see if Titus had managed to give it any cool effects.

  Heartpiercer LVL 27 — +2 to agility

  Morgan sighed. It was a good, if small bonus, but he had expected something amazing. He shouldn’t have been surprised; his guild had good people, but they were not high-level craftsmen, not yet. He shook his head and then removed the crossbow, putting it back in its box and then putting that box in his ring of holding. There was no need for him to carry it around everywhere. Lastly, there was a medium-sized box marked with an “S.” Morgan opened it and saw six spheres, each made out of the same metal. They were all made out of dark iron, since it was the metal that had the highest density of the ones they had available to them. It was supposed to help with his ability, but for now he didn’t need them, so he put them in his ring of holding too.

  The next item was a satchel reinforced with metal plates inside the lining. Morgan put it over his shoulder and fastened it on the slot on his belt, and then used the small hook at the bottom to secure it to his trousers, which had a small cloth loop sewn into them. The last thing he did was bring out his adventurer’s badge from his ring and take a look at it. They had used the hearthstone to make new badges during the feast nearly two months ago. It looked the same as his last one: a hexagonal plate with a manticore head etched on the surface, an exact replica of the mark on the back of his hand, the crest of their guild—only, this badge was made out of silver. He fastened it to the slot on his belt and then nodded to himself. With everything finished he turned around and left the room, intending to find the others.

  He didn’t need to look for long, as all of them were assembled
in front of the Hall and waiting for him.

  “Finally!” Clara exclaimed. “You took your damn time getting ready. You’re worse than Ves!”

  Ves scowled at the tiny orc woman and slapped her shoulder. “Hey!” Ves said.

  Clara showed Ves her tongue and jumped back out of range. Morgan chuckled as he walked down, taking a moment to look at them all suited up in their gear.

  Clara had a long brown battle dress on. It came down to below her knees but it was cut in the front and to the sides, allowing her a full range of movements. She had boots similar to Morgan’s—only brown, of course. On her arms she had heavy dark-iron gauntlets, and he could see same colored greaves on her shins. On her back was a kettle helmet with chainmail dangling off of it, suspended by a strap attached to her shoulder. Morgan could see that it allowed her to take it off and let it sit there while she had use of her arms. Her upper torso was covered again in dark-iron plate, which was covering her chest. She wore a bit more armor than Morgan, but her class also required it. She was their healer and support, but she did engage in combat, and by the look of her new war-staff she could do some decent damage. The staff was made out of dark wood with metal reinforcements and what looked like smaller mace heads on each end.

  But while Clara had some armor, Ves made her look nearly naked. Vestella’s armor was made out of scale mail. On her chest was a plate covered with scales, the same for her shoulders, and below her waist she had something that resembled a skirt. As he took a few more looks, he realized that her armor resembled that of samurai from Earth; there were a few differences, but close enough. A large difference was that her helmet didn’t have the horns that he associated with the look.

  Vall wore what was basically a half plate. He had protections on his forearm, greaves, and chest, with one shoulder plate, but little else. The rest was covered in his dark garments. On his side he carried his big sword, a “one-and-a-half hander” as they called them. It wasn’t as long as the one he’d used before he lost his arm, but it was long enough. His metal arm looked by itself like a black gauntlet. Vall had been using hands made by Morgan for nearly a year before they managed to earn enough gold to have a special one made for him in Irus.