Elias craved dead air, so he beelined for the ass-end of the sprawl.
Closer sniff? Old-timer hopefuls only—leather hides, dead-fish stares screaming Trials repeat-loser blues.
These geezers? Home-county post-no-gos, too bull-headed to quit the cap-dream grind. They bunkered solo, dodging newbie cock-flash. Been-there-broke-that crew.
Their side-eye freeze? Elias nope-out. No fit. Pivot-back, mid-pack snag: half-vacant block. Second-floor rand-o-room, sack-bed flop.
Ass-plant denied—hall-stomp duo: thump-light tag-team.
Door-frame ghost: eye-assault dude.
Sun-baked cocoa mug, bush-brow, puppy-dog peepers. Short-stack, but tank-built—bull-rack shoulders, keg-gut. Farmer-fake, not scroll-jock.
Peek-frame kid-head: bashful pretty-boy, cheek-smudge dirt-tag. Squire sidekick.
"Arthur Blackwood?" Beefcake plaque-peep, shock-real. "What're you doing in no-man's-land?"
Elias gut-lurch. Real Arthur ping?
Dude in-stride, bro-bow warm. "Dig the meet, Brother Blackwood. Willem Blaze here."
Wary auto-bow. "Brother Blaze. Favor-drop?"
Willem thumb-jab shoulder-kid. "Squire Midge clocked fresh blood in the block. Popped by for hellos. But... thought your tag flashed front-pad days back. Eyes playing tricks?"
"Must be," Elias flat-line.
Willem belly-laugh, forehead-slap. "My bad." Peepers spark, table-steel spot. Stride-past, inch-draw heft. "Beast iron!" Pump-excite. "You drill the arts too, Brother Blackwood?"
Elias irk-prick forwardness, pommel-nudge sheath-slot, yoink-back. "More?"
"Uh..." Willem falter, boot-kiss sniff. "Yeah. Dawn-dusk forms. Noise-factor. Disturb? Pre-apols." Deep-dip bow.
"No sweat," Elias. "Wiped. Crash-time."
Hint-hammer. Willem deflate-grin, back-pedal.
Dusk-rap. Elias clock thump-drag: Willem redux. "Spit it?"
"Brother Blackwood?" Hesit-vibe. "Repose Hall chow-jump?"
"Nope."
"Fetch-back?"
"Not peckish."
Distance-dodge lock. Mem-print risk? Nah. Self-bunker survival? Mystery meat.
Hall-hush tick, thump-fade.
Night? Form-fizzle zero.
Dawn-early, Elias slip-yard hush. Repose mega-chow pack-day stash.
Rebound: blade-whish crisp. Dawn-glow, Willem sweat-soak, two-hander greatsword whirl. Power-raw, heart-pure.
Elias pro-peep? Basic meat-pump. Zero core-cult, essence zilch. Grunt a squad of grunts? Sure. True-player? Galaxy gap.
Willem? Knight-noob.
Power-pyramid crystal: Demi-god peak. Mage mid. Knight gate. Sub-rungs: Nov-Adept-Master.
Elias? Adept Knight bag.
Scale: Nov? Ten elite grunts smash. Adept? Ten Novs mulch. Master? Ten Adepts dust.
Demi? Myth-mechs, quant-nightmare.
Weird flex: egghead greatsword? Most? Rapier bling-toy.
Willem spot-halt, grin-blast. "Brother Blackwood! Friendly tussle?"
"Steel? Show-pony," Elias stair-turn. "Clue-free swing."
Willem head-scrub, trail-peep.
Kid-squire Midge pad-over. "M'lord," clear-shy pipe, "that guy's ice-king."
Willem sigh-drag. "Front-pack pricks skinned him raw. Hurt-hunker. Back-bunk hide. Squire-solo? Fam skint... Ditched chow last night. Empathy mode, kid."
Midge big-eyes blink, symp-mug nod.
Post-chow eve-snag: front-flunk gossip Jameson room-jack. Click: no eye-trick. Arthur front-pad real. Bully-bounce.
Humili-hide, meal-skip... Despair-dive guess.
Elias chill? Sympathy swell, not salt.
Room-rack, Elias clueless deep-print. Stash-chuck, bed-flump, ceiling-stare void.
Bore-blitz hours, rinse-rig snag.
Midge well-deep already, master-laundry scrub. Eye-lock tick. Elias bucket-dip, kid-pipe shy-break.
"M'lord, grind-back. I scrub these. Dry-drop room."
"Nah," Elias curt-wash dive.
Midge mute-mush, steal-peep. Elias clock: dirt-smudge pretty, but rail-skin, sun-bronze bake.
Day-drag. Eve-fall, Willem form-wrap. Window-up: dark-void. Lamp-zilch.
"Lunch ghost, now dinner dip?" Willem Midge-ask.
"Out-zero all sun-up."
"Sustain how?"
Midnight-yard yell: "Block hopefuls! Big drop!"
Willem-Elias room-pop.
Attendant below. "Dawn-plus, Lord Gov academy-hop. Breakfast hour-early. Main-hall muster post-chow. Tard-no."
Lord Gov? Shire top-dog? Willem respect-dip. "Copy!"
Elias bow-sync.
Dawn-grand-pad, Lord Lucius Gale himself guest-host.
One: Druid Darian—long-dark beard, lord-vibe, shire druid-ace.
Lucius—tank-build command-aura life-juice—tea-serve personal when servant ping.
"M'lord, Slayer Fisk wheels-in."
Lucius-Darian grin-swap. "Insta-send."
Tick: black-cloak hawk-nose white-mane mystic-strut. Slayer Fisk, shire beast-bust king.
"Master Fisk," Lucius boom-warm. "Stoked you made."
Darian nod-tag, Fisk Q: "Shadow Corner Bazaar late-haul last night, m'lord. Dawn-yank what?"
Lucius tea-pour. "Hopeful herd academy-locked, cap-ride soon. Morning visit mine. You two free? Honor tag-along."
Fisk-Darian stare-swap stun.
Why drag to hopeful bash?
Beast-hunt hopefuls they peep? Now?