Johan’s chest swelled with pride at the thought of being a groundbreaking iron ranker. He was still thinking about flying into Hero’s cathedral last night on that ‘hung glider’. Dave, in his infinite dry wit, had remarked at the time that he was more likely a ‘sky breaking’ iron ranker.

  “What’s up?” said Dave from Johan’s elbow, breaking him out of his reverie.

  Dave was double checking all of Johan’s under-armour straps. Johan was following Master Greenwood's advice and getting someone else to do the final gear check. Just in case.

  “Cor, Dave,” said Johan and smiled. “But, that hung glider you got us to the cathedral with, that was something different, eh?”

  “Hang glider,” said Dave with his little smile. “And yes, they’re a bit intense. I know I was a bit overwhelmed when my old housemate first took me out. I thought you handled it well, though.”

  “It was amazing, Dave!” said Johan. “Do you really think it could have been a world first?”

  “First without magic, maybe,” said Dave, checking the straps on the other side now.

  “Unbelievable! I don’t think Hugh liked it much, though.”

  “I just didn’t like the lack of control,” said Hugh, shuddering. “Goddess knows you’re crazy enough to commission a floating airship but that’s an airship. It has sails and rigging and a crew. Last night was just a frame with a dead, unmoving wing on top. Unnatural!”

  “Worked, didn’t it?” said Dave, shrugging. “When Rupe confirmed that most tracking items don’t do vertical, flying away just made sense.”

  Hugh just blew air through his thick beard in response but Johan noted his smile through the whiskers.

  “Okay, done. I’ve confirmed that the arming doublet is correctly attached to the arming hose,” said Dave. “What armour goes on first?”

  Johan pointed to the table where he’d laid everything out.

  “From left to right, Dave,” said Johan. “Pass me the boots and sabatons first, if you please.”

  “Well, explain to Hugh how your equipment works while you’re putting it on,” said Dave and then looked at Hugh. “I don’t think we’ve ever actually explained it to you?”

  Hugh grinned sheepishly into his beard and Dave smirked cheekily.

  “Indeed, you have,” said Hugh. “But I keep forgetting. The items themselves are fine but just all that… mechanics, stuff?” He waved his hand. “It’s like you’re putting together a picture from pieces of different puzzles. I just can’t remember it.”

  “Perfect last minute presentation for Johan then,” said Dave dryly and nodded his head at the giant blond. “Explain your gear to Hugh. Hugh? Ask questions if what he says isn’t clear.”

  Hugh muttered into his beard but gestured for Johan to begin.

  “Boots of Unyielding Stride,” began Johan, determined to make his friends proud and go through each item, one-by-one missing nothing. As he spoke, he recalled fondly that Dave had spent considerable effort putting this collection together from the iron rank pieces volunteered by clergy of all churches.

  The boots Dave selected to keep Johan mobile were donated by a Dominion priestess; Ayaan Hassan. When they met, Johan felt her to be statuesque and commanding. Her dark skin had gleamed under the red light that streamed down from the high, stained glass dome that covered Dominion’s cathedral. It made her look like a stormcloud on the horizon at sunset. She locked eyes on him and Dave as they approached, Dave not making the proper abasements, as was his way.

  “Isn’t the big guy around here usually on the noble’s side?” called Dave across the empty room, ending with a common man’s bow as he stood before the priestess.

  “Dave! Blasphemy!” sputtered Johan. He would have to have a talk to this man soon.

  “Oh, no, no, no,” said Priestess Hassan to Johan. Up close, she was the most resplendent woman with the slickest smile Johan had ever seen. “Lord Dominion very much is the ‘big guy’ around here. The biggest, even. He knows that Dave’s words were heartfelt, so there is no blasphemy.” She turned to Dave. “And yes, he usually is but the Lord Of Obedience does as he will. And, does not explain himself.”

  At Dave’s inclining of the head in acceptance, she laughed shrilly and handed over the boots.

  “Such games! Consider these your first steps towards greater things, Johan,” said the priestess. “The Lord Of Obedience says you’ll give them back when you rank up to bronze.”

  “Oh! Really? Th- then in holiness, I obey,” stammered Johan, his face lighting up.

  “Such a good, obedient man, you are,” said the priestess, gazing fondly upon Johan’s face.

  “Cor, blimey!” Johan gave his most dazzling smile up at the priestess. “Do you really think so? You say that in your holy place? In front of Him?”

  Priestess Ayaan Hassan smiled at Johan and Dave like the cat that got the cream.

  “Yes, I have said that, Johan Schmidt. Now obey and go.”

  Johan immediately turned to obey.

  “You go on, Johan,” said Dave. “I have a matter of faith to discuss with our good priestess here.”

  The priestess grinned happily which Johan took as her agreement and he walked swiftly out of the church. Dave stared suspiciously up at the priestess the whole time before speaking.

  “Something, something, His Lord Obedience doesn’t come when called, something, something, Nobles, he’s called Dominion, not Negotiation?”

  The priestess grinned as before but her eyes and aura sparked with gleeful viciousness.

  “Go away now,” she laughed.

  “As you command,” said Dave, bowing and leaving amid the sound of her mirth.

  With his feet armoured, Johan moved on to explaining all the intended uses of the armour he’d borrowed. Johan remembered the bronze-rank retired vampire hunter from Death’s clergy, Marygold Durand, who’d loaned this item to him. Dave had selected it, Johan explained, because counter-execute abilities were perfect in conjunction with his Hero’s Spirit ability.

  They’d come to the old, battle-worn veteran’s manor home. Her once-dark hair had long since mostly turned silver, cropped close to her scalp to keep it out of the way of her face which bore the lines of countless nights spent hunting in the dark, with a single deep scar running from her temple to her jawline. Her gaze was sharp, unyielding, and there was a coldness to her demeanour that softened slightly with Johan’s presence and brought out a smile when she uncovered her old, iron-rank tools of her trade they’d come here to see.

  “Good armour,” she’d said gruffly, tapping it like an old friend. “Plate over the important bits, mail covers everything else,” she nodded satisfactorily. “It’ll do the job.”

  She handed the armour set over to Johan’s waiting arms.

  “Sorry but, I’m curious. For vampire hunting, doesn’t this armour only work as intended after, you know, you’ve lost the fight a bit?” Dave had asked. “No offence, Mother.”

  “No, quite so, quite so” said Mother Durand in response to Dave's precocious question. “That’s something I figured out myself after a couple of years where I’d almost died a couple of times using the set. Yep! Better off killing the vampire before it bites you than blowing it up with your last breath. Aren’t you using it for a duel, though?”

  “Plenty of blood in duels,” said Dave with that smirk of his. “You going to watch?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it,” said Mother Durand in a voice that was almost hungry with anticipation. “From the common seats but I’ve got a pair of those farseer glasses so I won’t miss a thing.” The aggressively eyebrowed old priest clapped a weathered hand onto Johan’s shoulder. “You stick it to them young man, hey?”

  “Yes, Mother!” said Johan. “Thank you, Mother.”

  Johan’s legs were now armoured and he slipped on the amulet while Dave was getting the hauberk ready to put over his head. Johan’s memory of acquiring the amulet brought a smile to his face as he explained it to Hugh.

  Dave hadn’t told Johan why they were picking it up, and Johan, thinking he was being polite, hadn’t pressed for details. Later, he’d confessed to Dave that he knew what it was for at the same moment he’d explain it to the nun! They’d both had a good laugh but ever educational, Dave had also made it a lesson in asking questions if he didn’t understand something, a point that Johan was starting to appreciate more and more. Dave always seemed to have the answers, and what fascinated Johan was how Dave seemed happiest when confronted with a question he hadn’t been asked before. He’d never met a man like that. What a mind, indeed!

  They had arrived at a small chapel by the river that had ocean water running down the walls which was then being collected in rivulets that ran between the pews to a central drainage. It kept the air thick with the scent of salt and brine. Inside, they were greeted by a stern-faced nun, her skin weathered from years spent at sea. Sister Delphine was all she introduced herself as. Her Ocean insignia gleamed on her robes. She eyed them both with a stern, calm acceptance of one who would weather whatever the world brought her way.

  They exchanged greetings and pleasantries before the plain speaking old nun cut to the surge.

  “I’m sorry, but why do you want this?” the nun had asked, her voice rough like the waves she had likely spent her lifetime on.

  “Oh, sister!” Johan began earnestly. “If there's any reluctance, we wouldn’t presume-”

  “Don’t mistake me, young man,” the nun interrupted, practically shoving the item into Johan’s chest. “Take it, take it! I just don’t know why you, in particular, are taking a whale essence item.”

  If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Johan hesitated, but Dave stepped in.

  “Johan has a pointy sword that consumes stacking buffs for smites,” he said simply.

  The old nun stared hard at Johan, her sea-bitten cheeks narrowing as she carefully considered this information.

  “Well, good,” she concluded, her tone resolute. “Very good.”

  With his hauberk on, Dave had helped Johan strap on the rest of his upper body armour while Johan explained the rings he’d be using to Hugh. He placed them reverently on the fingers of his gloved hands and thought about the nice but odd fellow who’d handed them over.

  Johan had hesitated as he watched the unidentified silver ranker descend from the sky on a giant bee familiar, the buzzing of its wings almost deafening. He hadn’t said which church he was from or who he was. Just a letter summoning them to this time and place with a silver-ranked paper letter. That Dave had kept.

  Despite the man's imposing presence striding towards them, Johan had learned that asking questions, no matter how obvious the answer might seem or how late in coming, was always the best approach with Dave. So, he turned to his friend.

  "Dave, what are these items for this time? I’m pretty sure they’re for providing both buffs and smite boons, right?”

  Dave gave him a knowing smirk and nodded.

  "Exactly that, mate. More buffs, more smites, more better. Perfect for your ability set." He adjusted his face ruefully. “Well, perfect enough for bee essence gear.”

  Johan nodded thoughtfully, glad his suspicions were confirmed, but his attention quickly turned back to the silver ranker who was now dismounting his bee. The man's expression was irritation mixed with relief, and Johan couldn’t help but feel a bit uneasy as he approached them.

  “You’d be Dave and Johan?” said the man without any preamble.

  “That’s us!” said Dave. “We didn’t catch your name?”

  “I’d rather remain anonymous,” said the man, unceremoniously tossing a magic ring at each of them. “What’d you recon?”

  Johan noticed the characteristic stutter of Stop And Think in Dave’s expression. He’d probably used his identification abilities to look up all the details of the items and double check them against his notes.

  “Perfect,” said Dave, brusquely. “Where do you want us to drop them off after the tournament?”

  “Yeh, actually, you can keep them,” the silver ranker said, gesturing hopelessly. “I thought if I held onto them for long enough over the years I’d get nostalgic but no. Just bringing them in today brought back the smell and the taste and - No, don’t get me wrong, they’re great items and sure, tasty and pleasant at first but, oh, by the woods, after five years I just… No, I still can’t stand it. Take them!”

  “We can pay, Mister -” began Johan, stumbling to do The Right ThingTM.

  “NO!” the silver ranker interrupted, his voice sharp. “The only payment I will accept is you taking these damn things away from me. Go!”

  As the man’s aura flared, Johan and Dave felt a nudge, almost a physical push, intentionally tinged with his genuine relief the rings were leaving, encouraging Dave and Johan on their way. Respecting the man’s wishes, they turned and walked away.

  Just as they were about to leave, the silver ranker called out from on top of his mount.

  “Oh, and Johan?”

  Johan turned back.

  “Yes, Mister?”

  “Give them hell, won’t you?”

  “Oh! Ha!” said Johan, grinning awkwardly but feeling confidence rising within. “Yes, Mister!”

  Johan had almost finished armouring up from bottom to top quite quickly with Dave’s help. Sabatons, greaves, cuisses, hauberk, pizaine, plackart, breastplate, pauldrons and vambracers. He’d memorised all the names from a book Master Greenwood had when he was six. He’d felt so proud and grown up doing that. Now here he was covered in the stuff.

  He picked up the gauntlets he’d chosen while Dave readied the tabard and paused for a moment after ending his explaining to Hugh about how the flowers from the ring didn’t need to actually touch your skin. Equipment you were wearing was considered ‘self’ enough.

  “Hey, remember what Mother Aemiliana said, Dave?” said Johan.

  “Get the blood from the other guy?” said Dave.

  Johan and Hugh grinned at Dave's dry humour.

  “No, about the gloves, you goose!” said Johan, chuckling.

  “Yes, she was impressed that you asked what happens if you face downwards and then clap,” said Dave, grinning with them.

  “Well, you must say,” said Hugh, his eyes twinkling. “Tell all!”

  “Oh, it was the look on her face,” said Johan, grinning and reminiscing.

  “Yeah, I really like these gloves,” Dave had said. “I reckon you’re going to get a lot of use out of them in your matches.”

  “You still think I can use them to go upwards, right?” said Johan.

  “Yep! Actually – Oh look, that’d be the contact right there, wouldn’t it? You can ask her yourself. Mother Theodora Aemiliana, priest-militant of Warrior.”

  Dave pointed at a tall and imposing woman with sun-baked skin and an iron gaze levelled at some trainees doing drills on pontoons next to the dockside training yard. Mother Aemiliana moved on the pontoons with the ease of someone who had spent more years on the deck of a ship than on solid ground. Her hair, streaked with silver, was tied back in a no-nonsense braid, and the scars that criss-crossed her muscular arms told stories of battles fought in the depths of the ocean.

  Johan approached with his usual humility, radiating wholesome respect and curiosity. Dave followed a few paces behind, his sharp eyes taking in everything. Theodora noticed their approach and turned to face them, her expression softening just a fraction.

  "You must be Johan," she said, with the voice of an authoritative teacher. Her voice commanded respect, while encouraging a reply.

  "Yes, Mother," Johan replied, nodding earnestly. "You answered a call to arms that my friend Dave here put out,” he gestured at Dave who touched his hat respectfully. “I understand you might have some things that could help me in the tournament, of course, if you’d be so kind. I hope it’s not too much trouble, Mother."

  Theodora studied him for a moment, her eyes narrowing as if assessing his worth.

  “Well,” she sighed. “Warrior says you’re the real thing.”

  Her face relaxed into acceptance and then, with a swift motion, she reached into a dimensional pocket and pulled out a blue tabard that shimmered with an eerie, almost living quality. The fabric seemed to ripple like the surface of the ocean in the light, and embroidered in a continuous pattern were small, sand bubbler crabs with claws raised as though to grasp, all in a deep, crimson thread.

  "This is the Tabard of the Blood Bubbler Crabs," she said, holding it out for Johan to inspect. Dave quickly poked it with a finger and put the description of the tabard on Tome for Johan to see. "My favourite little allies in battle. Underwater, you see, the blood spreads out so, getting it on the tabard is pretty easy. Might be a little harder in the arena sands?

  “Mayhaps so, Mother, but Dave insists that it’s the right choice and I find his reasoning sound,” said Johan.

  Mother Aemiliana raised an eyebrow at Dave who still had his nose in Tome.

  “Hmm? Oh, yes,” said Dave. “Johan has two abilities that make him considerably more capable when he has allies. Show her Tome.” Dave spun his bobbing book familiar around who flipped through some pages quickly and opened up on the desired pages for Mother Aemiliana to read. “Aura Of Retribution and Shield Of The People.”

  “Ahh, I see,” said Mother Aemiliana, nodding as she skimmed the pages. “Yes, well, this tabard will ensure you’re never alone in the fray. So, you’ll get that" She continued nodding. “Just a word of advice though; try and use the other guy’s blood.”

  Both Dave and Johan laughed although Johan also beamed at Mother Aemiliana’s approval of his abilities. Johan then took the tabard into his bag, reverently running his fingers over the detailed embroidery. He could almost feel the power within it, as if the crabs in the embroidery were straining to get out.

  "And these are the Squid Ink Gauntlets," Mother Aemiliana had said, taking them out of her dimensional pocket and holding them out for Dave to touch before placing them in Johan’s hands. "Good escape armour. When the monsters in the deeps closed their maws, it was these gauntlets that made sure I was never between them. I expect they’ll keep you safe in that tournament as they did for me under the waves. Although it’ll cost you a coin’s worth more mana, not being underwater like I was."

  Johan accepted the gauntlets with a deep bow, his fingers tracing the intricate tentacle patterns etched into the metal.

  "Thank you, Mother," he’d said, his voice filled with gratitude.

  Theodora gave a curt nod.

  "Remember, these are on loan. I expect them back after the tournament, along with a victory to show for it. Assuming the armour passes inspection, of course."

  “Yeah, they do,” muttered Dave, going over the details of the item.

  "I'll do my best to make you proud," said Johan, smiling at Mother Aemiliana and feeling his own determination to make it true.

  “He actually will,” said Dave. “It’s almost unbelievable how hard he’ll go to make good folks proud.”

  Johan looked at Dave funny. Didn’t everyone do that? Dave could be such a cynic at times. Johan liked that word. Cynic. Dave had taught it to him.

  “Oh, Mother Aemiliana, I must ask,” said Johan, bowing. “As the experienced user of this item, I think you would know. Can you use these gauntlets to go up?”

  “Yes, Johan. You can go upwards with them,” said Mother Aemiliana in her best teacher voice.

  “And, what happens then, mother?” asked Johan.

  Mother Aemiliana just looked at Johan with the most dumbfounded expression.

  “Well, then you… go down again!” she said carefully, trying not to pull a face.

  Dave burst out laughing and was quickly quelled somewhat by Mother Aemiliana’s stern look.

  Hugh laughed at Johan’s retelling of the events as well.

  “Indeed, what happened after you got your foot out of your mouth?” asked Hugh.

  Johan waved his hand, indicating that Dave should complete the embarrassing tale.

  “I explained that Johan was concerned that the gloves could have some enchantment on them to keep you suspended, like how a lot of wind essence abilities give you a slow fall?” said Dave, looking at Hugh who nodded. “She got a lot less severe when she found out Johan had just phrased a valid concern badly. She even pointed it out to her students as an example of the kinds of things they should be thinking about when selecting gear.”

  Hugh slapped Johan’s armoured shoulder in a friendly manner.

  “You just can’t stop impressing fight trainers wherever you go, can you?” said Hugh. “Well, obviously, I’ve seen you train with the gauntlets, they don’t have any suspension. Is that good or bad for you?”

  “Oh! Good,” said Johan. “Very good. It allows me to stay moving so, I can be offensive or defensive. Depending on what I’m using them for.”

  “Offensive?” asked Hugh. “What did I miss? Don’t they send you backwards?”

  “But if I face away from my enemy and use them, I go forwards,” said Johan, his face grinning happily.

  “Haven’t you seen him practising that jump-spin-clap move?” asked Dave. “He’s done it every day.”

  “Oh? Indeed. Well, I must say, my memory has been a little off recently,” waffled Hugh into his beard. “Nevermind that, of course. What’d Mother Aemiliana say then?”

  “Nothing much,” said Dave. “She let the class wish Johan luck, wished him luck herself, I took a bunch of their coins into the betting pool and we left. I think Johan promised to help her with some lessons when he returned the items.”

  “I did!” said Johan. “She’s got a sharp mind, though, doesn’t she, Dave? That Mother Aemiliana, I’ve got a feeling that not much gets past her!”

  “I feel that too,” said Dave wryly. “She put three months' wages on you.”

  Hugh raised his eyebrows in appreciation.

  “I won’t let her down,” said Johan, with a steady conviction.

  Everything was armoured except for his head now and the announcer was already introducing the coming duel to the audience. It was soon time to finish armouring up and be led by that helpful staff member who’d just knocked on the door to lead them down the arena tunnel.

  “Hold on a second Johan,” said Dave, interrupting his explanation of why the Empathy Band was a superior selection to the Helm Of The Dawn Guardian. “Do you want the band over or under the padded coif?”

  “Under, please and thank you,” said Johan. “The weight of the coif helps to hold it in place.”

  “No problem,” said Dave.

  It was a funny colloquialism of Dave’s that Johan liked. ‘No problem’. The way he said it, suggested a certain attitude that if there were to be a problem, the speaker would be sure to solve it. Johan was certain his dad would get along well with Dave’s folks.

  “So, which church did you get this from?” asked Hugh. “You’ve fondly mentioned all the other churches with glowing recommendations?”

  “Oh! Well, because it’s common equipment in places like Rimaros, Dave thought there might be one in the Heroic armoury for trainees,” said Johan, in apologetic eagerness to tell Hugh another glowing recommendation. “The armourer down there is really nice.”

  “What happened when you went there, then?” asked Hugh with his whiskery smile.

  “Every church is offering you their best and you’re here visiting me, lad?” said the armourer, a burly man with a grizzled beard and eyes that spoke of paternal patience. “In the trainees armoury?”

  “Yes, Mister Germain!” said Johan brightly. “Perchance you have an empathy band in your armoury?”

  “That I do, lad. That I do,” said the armourer into his beard. “Just the one. Not much call for them around these parts. Come on, let's go pick it up.”

  “Oh!” exclaimed, pulling himself up short. “I can’t go in. The sign says staff only, mister.”

  The old fellow seemed confused for a moment and then smiled at Johan in a fatherly fashion.

  “That’s the sign, lad but I’m the armourer and I say you’re allowed in. Alright?”

  “Cor! Well, alright Mister Germain!”

  “What’s it for, anyway? Odd bit of kit for a big fight?”

  “Oh! My team leader, Dave - Detective Booker? Yes, he has an aura that makes equipment better, but my aura only makes other auras better so he thinks if I have an empathy band -”

  “Ooh, I see, I see lad,” said Germain, nodding.

  “Dave says that spending one of my equipment selections on making everything else better will be a good investment.”

  “And what do you think, lad?” asked the armourer sceptically, stopping next to a shelf and taking down a simple, cloth band that could have been mistaken for a simple headband to keep the hair out of the eyes, except for the exquisite rune stitching. He paused, waiting for Johan’s answer.

  “I think I feel stronger and fight better when I’m in Dave’s aura,” said Johan, beaming his most beautiful smile at Germain. “And I trust him!”

  Heroic armourer Jules Germain nodded, relenting.

  “Sign here, lad,” said Germain, returning Johan’s smile and holding out a clipboard.

  Johan signed.

  “You know,” said Germain. “My boy, Jacq, really admires you, Mister Schmidt.”

  “Aww, that’s really nice to him, Mister Germain!” said Johan, his face the picture of earnestness. “You tell him I said thank you for that, won’t you? ”

  “I think I will, lad. I think I will,” said the armourer, chuckling. “Now you get going and practise with that strip of cloth on your noggin.”

  “I will, Mister! Make sure you tell Jacq!” said Johan over his shoulder, retreating from the armourer who was good naturedly shoving him out.

  “You’re a good kid,” the armourer muttered. “Hope you win.”