Waking up to the sound of thunder and the rocking of the Timbergrove almost sends me back to sleep. There is just nothing like an ongoing thunderstorm combined with a cozy warm room. It is a perfect combination to just close your eyes and sleep in.

  Unfortunately, I’m a busy cat with errands.

  Standing up, I stretch atop the bookshelf before I hop down to the bed and then the floor. When I exit my room, I find many of my crew already awake. Cillian, Irmgard, and Boriss are already at the table. Irmgard has already produced breakfast, of which both Cillian and Boriss are eating. Especially Boriss. The man eats like he’d not eaten for months.

  “Slow down Boriss, You'll choke.” I warn once I hop atop the table. “Also, good morning.”

  Cillian nurses a bottle with a sly smile. “Nepenthes says he has to eat a lot because of that concoction he drank.”

  “That makes sense. Speaking of which, where is Nepenthes? She barely sleeps if at all.”

  “Cillian shrugs. Not sure. I was going to ask her to accompany me to the Undercrust, but she’d already disappeared.”

  “I have to go to the undercrust too. I can escort you if you want- actually. What's our winnings?”

  Cillian grins with a chuckle. “Should be half a million.”

  Holy shit.

  “That’s a lot.”

  The Scot nods happily. “I’ve already got cargo in mind. I just need to buy it.”

  Irmgard approaches and places a plate of meat in front of me. “Emma is progressing quickly with the runes for the cannons. I recommend looking into obtaining more crew so that we can actually have all the cannons manned.”

  “I’m already working on that,” I say. “But if you have ideas for anyone who’d be a good fit for the crew, I’m all ears.”

  “Buying contracted personnel is also a possibility.” Irmgard explains.

  I frown. “I’m not sure how I feel about these contracts.”

  “They’re shit,” Cillian voices. “A lot of islands charge you if you have any contracted crew. Maybe we can have a few, but too many will eat up long-term profits.”

  I chuckle. “Allways the profits with you. But I get your point. I recommend everyone keep an eye out for anyone who’d make a good fit.”

  Just then, I hear the creaking of a door above, shortly followed by Nepenthes walking down. The phytoid is dripping wet from the rain, but she seems completely unbothered by that.

  “You’re back.” I say.

  Nepenthes nods. “Yes. My night was exceptionally fruitful,” She answers and then turns to Cillian. “Are we to descend today?”

  Cillian grins with a wiggle of his glass. “Yup, just let me finish here and we can get the earnings before Boriss’s ceremony.”

  “Oh, right, that.” I look to the Russian. “I think they’re going to make you armor from that wyvern. That should be nice.”

  Boriss nods with a mouth full of three different kinds of meat.

  “Right, uhh, have fun with that. I have some business to get to first and if I have the time, I’ll see you at the awards ceremony.”

  With several more goodbye, I leave the mess-hall and the ship entirely. The moment I step out I’m reminded that the weather isn’t good. Rain falls rapidly like a downpour while the wind makes most covers ineffective to stay perfectly dry. Directly on port I see a soaking wet Gond. The old man surprisingly doesn't look miserable. Instead, he finds the weather relaxing, a blessing even if his expression is to be believed.

  Leaving the old man to the rain, I find my way to the undercrust, where an impressive level of plumbing shifts the water through numerous pipes so as not to bother anyone underground.

  It's a mostly effective system with leaks existing here and there. Now, what I truly can say is that the Flamingos have the system perfectly maintained in their district. Not a spec of water can be seen dripping anywhere unless they want it to.

  Climbing up the side of the building, I enter through the cat-hole, ignore the sleeping [Druid], and enter the hallways. A short distance later, and my paw taps upon Jonathan's door.

  “Come in,” I hear him say.

  When I do enter, the man's smile disappears into a grimace for a moment, but returns quickly. “Welcome again to my private abode, Mr Eludo. Is there something I can help you with?”

  “Yes, you can.” I hop upon his desk, instinctively looking for something to push off- only to find the desk clear save for the papers under Jonathan's hand.

  “If it’s about our agreement, it has already concluded. I have accepted Gino’s payment and freed the girl from her contract.”

  “And I am absolutely impressed with the integrity of your promises. I’m so impressed, that I’ve come to freely offer you a bit of very profitable information.”

  “Oh?”

  “Indeed. You see, Gino informed me that the [Gang Leader] of the Vlutures obtained a very expensive item recently. Some kind of runed armband.”

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  The fake smile on Jonathans slowly disappears. “And why would Gino reveal such information to you?”

  I grin back. “Gino is now part of my crew.” I raise a paw slowly as though I am admiring the nails hidden within. “Let's just say that the kid does not appreciate having a bounty placed on his head.”

  Jonathan slowly nods. “That’s reasonable and the information is useful. And you offer this information without cost?”

  I tilt my head. “Well, so long as the source stays anonymous.”

  “Easily done.” Jonathan nods.

  “Perfect.” I turn and hop off the table. “Have a good day.”

  ____________________________________________________________

  After a short conversation with Dana that has the woman both happy and sad, Quasi arrives just in time for the awards ceremony, which isn’t actually in the colosseum, but in a large indoor hall built next to it. The whole place looks like it is modeled after a kings hall used for visitors. It is grand, gaudy, and needlessly fancy. Of course, at the back is a throne where the [Governor] sits in resplendent runed robes.

  Next to him stands the [Announcer], a different one than the one seen at the Colosseum, but clearly a more skilled one.

  “Please be silent,”

  Flamentine leans forward slightly with a perfectly political smile. One you couldn’t tell was fake without a skill or thousands of years of experience. “This year's tournament has shown a significantly larger showing, both in the capability of the [Gladiators] and even in the bets made. I imagine many of you have made decent profits, too.” Flamentine chuckles.

  Many of the crowd chuckle good-naturedly. Which makes sense, for nearly everyone bet on Borris to win at the end, with the main loser being the one currently on the throne. Regardless, the [Governor] does incredibly well to reveal none of such things.

  “But you all aren't here to listen about the profits. You’re all here to meet the tournament champion. Am I right?”

  The crowd cheers happily, not as loudly as when Boriss won, but quite close.

  “Then what are we waiting for? Send him in.”

  Opposite the [Governor], the double doors screech open, allowing Boriss to waltz in. They’ve dressed him up in what looks like polished and gold engraved segmented metal armor. He has an actual Gladius at his hip and a feathered helmet on his head. But most notable of all is a long flowing cape depicting the city’s heraldry. The armor looks impressive and imposing on the Russian’s massive form, but that’s all it is. The piece is clearly made to look impressive rather than be functional.

  Boriss takes his time, grinning at his audience with each measured step. The audience cheers the entire time until Boriss arrives meters in front of the governor.

  “Boriss Smirnov, please kneel,”

  Boriss complies. After a moment, the [Governor] nods. He then waves a hand to his left, ordering two [Gladiators] to place a covered stand at his side.

  “Rise.” Flamentine orders and Boriss complies. “I congratulate you on your victory, Boriss. An impressive victory, one that even impressed me. And I’m not just speaking about your final battle. I also speak of your second, where you caused the death of Hellion.”

  It is those words that get a grumble from some of the crowd. Hellion is an old favorite adversary- one that will be missed.

  The [Governor] looks to the audience. “Are you displeased?” He asks the audience. “Hellion is as much of a [Gladiator] as anyone who takes to the field. And to die in battle is something to be praised, not scorned. And mark you me, Hellion fought to the death. Do not spit in the face of such a powerful beast.”

  The grumbles disappeared as fast as they arrived.

  “As for the beast, what better way to honor its death but to allow the winner of this tournament to continue its fight.” Flamentine waves at the stand.

  The two [Gladiators] remove the cover to reveal an entire set of impressive black-scaled runed armor, with a scaled bone helmet included.

  Leaning forward from atop a beam, Quasi stares at the armor pieces.

  After reading the three pieces, she looks down at the final piece in her arms.

  Quasi suppresses a whistle at the impressive display of stats. None of it is greater than Exceptional quality, but overall it looks very impressive.

  “Created from the skin, bones, and scales of our Royal Wyvern, this armor set I award to Boriss so that he may continue to fight in Hellion's name.”

  The crowd begins clapping and cheering as Boriss stares at the armor in eager curiosity. Like a child given a fancy new toy. But just as fast as the cheering came, it stops as the [Governor] raises his hand.

  “As is customary, I will allow the champion to ask something of me. And if it is reasonable, I will oblige. What is your request, Boriss?” Flamentine asks.

  Quasi kneels forward, his ears flickering in interest. He’d known about the Armor, but not about the request. He wonders what Boriss would choose.

  “I vish for Comrades.” Boriss says confidently.

  Flamentine raises an eyebrow. “Comrades?”

  “Da. I vish for Comrade Michael, Agris, and Baldric.”

  Flamentine now smiles in understanding. “You’ve an odd way to talk, but I believe you’re asking about your teammates' contracts in the second and third rounds, correct?”

  “Da.” Boriss nods.

  “Your request is feasible and accepted. Those three will be handed off to you.”