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Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (138/?) Revised Version 1
🕑 Added 2025-07-27 16:44:51 +0000 UTCAuthor’s Note: Hey everyone! There’s been some changes in this chapter, most notable of which is the removal of a pretty big chunk from Emma’s pondering thoughts regarding Tent Town! I think that her whole train of thought regarding the transience of the town was perhaps not necessary and a bit presumptuous at this point of the story, so I decided to remove that in order to improve both the flow and the vibes of the intro to this chapter, and by extension, tent town! :D Other than that there’s been a few bits here and there that I rephrased in order to improve legibility and flow! And of course, there’s the typical grammar and spelling edits that have also been made! :D As always, all of the revised sections are highlighted with an underline to easily see what’s been revised! :D
His Eternal Majesty’s Remembrance Path | The Royal Road of Transgracia. The Night Town Bazaar. Local Time 2150 Hours.
Emma
Merriment.
That’s the word.
That’s precisely what this whole town exuded.
Whereas Elaseer did have its moments of rugged and untempered fantasy — most particularly in commoner town — this tent city was quite literally forged by it.
And for good reason too.
This… Night Town, as the locals called it, was sort of the best of all worlds when it came to the grittiness of medieval fantasy; both in the gritty and the fantasy.
For starters, there wasn’t so much a clear-cut class divide that truly made the Nexus… the Nexus.
The whole place was a settlement forged by necessity, its demographics consisted of those without access to the transportium and those who serviced that sort of clientele.
This naturally cut nobles from the equation, leading to a rougher, easier-going, looser, and less restrictive sort of atmosphere that was not only contagious, but a breath of fresh air.
It felt like a heavy weight had been lifted from my chest and shoulders.
It felt like I could finally breathe easier without the constant looming presence of the Academy, and without the constant social pressures of Expectant Decorum tightening its grip around my very being.
Indeed, the only divide that existed was the small yet present disparity that existed between the wealth of merchants.
But even that wasn’t as pronounced as it was at Elaseer.
Sure, there were those with plate armor rubbing shoulders with those wearing worn and faded tunics… but that was about as far as it went.
If anything, there seemed to only be one big exception to this rule and that was the grand and imposing tent positioned high at the top of the hill.
Other than that? It was just… normalcy, or at least what was close enough to it all around.
Something that both I and even Thalmin seemed to appreciate.
It gave me the first taste of that authentic Castles and Wyverns campaign that had been lacking for all this time.
I took a deep breath as we entered yet another crossroads, poised to go down yet another high street.
Thalmin’s eyes were locked to stalls on our left, as all manner of wares — of dubious quality — were being hawked with varying degrees of intensity.
“SWORDS SWORDS SWORDS SWORDS! ARMING SWORDS, PARRYING SWORDS, LONGSWORDS, SHORTSWORDS, GREATSWORDS, GREATER SWORDS, LESSER SWORDS, AND ONE-TIME-ENCHANTED SWORDS AVAILABLE NOW FOR A LIMITED TIME ONLY!” A particularly excitable kobold yapped and yelled, clanging a tiny sword against a suitably tiny shield, generating a series of shallow yet sharp clangs that rang cacophonously throughout the entire market.
This was set in stark contrast to proprietors who took the exact opposite stance to marketing, as a lizardfolk with similar hooded brethren sat ominously behind a dark and dingy stall. “Pssst. Hey. We have… quality artifacts. The good stuff. Not that second-rate junk found in the back alley of a smith.” They somehow whispered out loud enough that we could hear it over the ambiance of the market.
I didn’t know how that was possible.
Nor did I think it was in any way really doing any favors for their subtlety points.
However, what was clear was that their gear was considerably more…
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 250% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
…mana-rich than the ones hawked by the excitable kobold.
Thalmin, perhaps noticing my growing interest in these would-be black market arms dealers, quickly pulled up a privacy screen as we walked past them.
“The kobold is hawking third-rate throwaway scrap that most enchanters and smithies throw out. Meanwhile, the lizardfolk are probably hawking dead adventurers’ gear or, just as likely, stolen goods purloined from either the storefront or picked from a parked supply crate.” He spoke through a barely concealed grin of giddiness.
Something that I couldn’t help but to call him out for.
“Excited about the more illicit side of things now, are we, Prince Havenbrock?” I began with a chiding snicker. “You’re not really beating the mercenary allegations here, I must say.”
The prince, clearly giving me a pass for that jab in exchange for his earlier torture of my grastronomic shortcomings, simply smiled in response. “All battles start at the procurement table, Emma. And as with war, one must be open to… unconventional tactics, even and perhaps especially when it comes to matters of supply and logistics.”
“I take it this isn’t your first rodeo with these grey market types.” I questioned.
“How was it you phrased it, Emma?” The lupinor pondered teasingly, tapping his chin with a single clawed finger. “Ah, yes… I can neither confirm nor deny.” He shot back with a toothy snout-to-snout grin.
I responded in the only way that was appropriate — by rolling my eyes.
Sadly, this didn’t really translate well to, well… any physical cue. So I had no choice but to vocalize it for illustration’s sake.
“I’ll have you know that if it wasn’t for the armor, you’d see my eyes rolling to the very back of my head right now.” I responded cheekily.
Though the response I got wasn’t at all what I expected, as Thalmin suddenly narrowed his gaze in a bout of suspicion.
“So you can roll your eyes… all the way to the back of your head, you say?” He asked with a sudden burst of interest that seemed to come out of nowhere.
“Erm, it’s a figure of—”
“Blue Knight!” The unmistakable voice crack of a teenage boy pierced sharply through the background noise of the crowd.
Soon enough, the pipsqueek of an elf emerged from the bustling foot traffic,his father trailing shortly behind carrying with him a decent amount of supplies on a backpack hooked up to a tumpline.
“Fancy seeing you down here!” He beamed, placing both hands by his hips.
That comment caught me off guard, as I promptly cocked my head before responding. “Down here? I thought the entire market was more or less the same all the way up?”
“Ah! It is! But you see, I’d assumed you high-born folk would’ve retired to the Lord Protector’s—”
“Alorant!” His father practically hissed out, causing the teen to freeze in place, and allowing the older elf to take his place in the conversation. “I am incredibly sorry for the bother, Sir Knight.” He dipped his head as far as it could despite the tumpline.
“It’s quite alright, Solizia.” I offered kindly. “Your son’s just excited to see something novel for once, I’d imagine. Curiosity’s healthy at this age, you know?”
The elf’s eyes narrowed at that statement, in much the same way he’d expressed discomfort at the whole will of the people statement from earlier. “Perhaps it is.”
The shorter elf practically glowed at that affirmation, taking it as a win and deciding to test his luck with his next few words. “Father, perhaps we could provide the Blue Knight with a tour of Night Town?” He urged.
The next few moments consisted of a tense staredown between a pleading son and an incredibly tired father.
Eventually however, the older elf relented, nodding in acquiescence as the elven teen’s excitement reached a fever pitch.
What happened next was what I could only describe as organized chaos.
Our trip through the markets accelerated wildly with the young elf at the lead as he zig-zagged, ducked, and weaved through the seemingly endless crowds.
Elementals sizzled and warbled as he moved past their undulating forms, while avians of all sorts squawked and CAWWED as we pushed our way through into increasingly smaller and smaller alleyways.
Here, we were met with stalls barely the width of the people manning them, their wares either small enough to pack onto the small rickety tables in front of them, or their minds clever enough to play the highest stakes game of jenga imaginable — as unmarked and unstandardized boxes of all shapes and sizes were stacked up high into the night sky.
This gave this particular section of Night Town a weird box-scraper-like aesthetic, forcing me to wince as I was reminded of the logistical and workplace ethics horror show that was early 21st century shipping.
“Spice shop, lantern stand, silverware, and stitched sacks—” The boy gesticulated wildly, pointing at shop after shop that rattled, glowed, and rattled some more to the pattern and tune of a thousand OSHA violations. “Maps, scrolls, bootsoles, bundles of wool, and rope and knife packs.” He prattled on, his eyes meeting not just the storefronts or their proprietors, but their kids too as they watched us while we walked past; most of them too busy working to pay us much mind.
Eventually, we came across a small gaggle of these kids who stood at a crossroads, and it was here that I understood just why Alorant had been so insistent on stringing us along.
“Ah, why if it isn’t the carter’s boy.” A young brown-furred feline hissed under a menacing breath, taking the charge as she stood firmly in front of her little troupe.
“Finally back, eh?” Another elf marched forwards, his hands struggling to re-adjust a pair of hand-me-down pants clearly several sizes too large for him.
“I’m assuming Master Solizia of Alamont couldn’t keep up with the whims and desires of his noble calling, hmm?” A smaller lizardfolk hissed, crossing his arms as he did so.
“Hmm? Whatever do you mean?” Alorant spoke cheekily, stretching both arms above his head to reinforce the casualness of his rebuttal.
“Don’t take us for fools, cartboy. There’s only one reason you’d be showing your sorry face here again, and that’s if you and your father have both finally failed at getting a leg…” The feline slowly trailed off as she finally noticed both Thalmin and I, having not moved since the confrontation began. “... up.”
Alorant’s features grew to rival that of Ilunor’s at this point, as he allowed for the silence to speak for itself.
“You were saying?” He chided, attempting to egg both the would-be bully and the rest of their group.
The brown-furred feline attempted to formulate a response, her eyes darting this way and that, mostly jumping between Thalmin and I.
“As you can see… our accomplishments have gone so far that we’ve now expanded into the realm of porters.” Alorant continued, his tone laced with a twinge of ill-gotten pride.
The girl’s features grew even more irritated before she simply relented, hissing under her breath as she disengaged and began a subtle and silent retreat.
“Mark my words, cartboy, you’ve bitten off far, far more than you can chew.” She shot ominously, turning back to face Alorant in particular.
“Those are big words coming from you lot.” Alorant chuffed.
“Oh, no. That’s not what I meant at all.” The Baxi continued loftily, turning towards us once more with a wary gaze. “It’s not us you should be worried about.”
With that ominous warning, the group of teens left, leaving both Thalmin and I to look both stare expectantly at Alorant.
“Listen kid, I get it. You wanted to show up either your friends or bullies or what-have-you. But if this is what you were planning to use us for in the first place, I’d rather you be frank about it right off the bat—”
“You there!” A voice boomed from behind us… a familiar voice, at least as far as the EVI was concerned.
[B10 Lord Millias Tacten. Aliases: Millias the Resplendant]
Millias… Ilunor’s ‘acquiantance’ from the pay-to-win adventuring party?
I quickly turned to face the Vunerian, only to see that we weren’t the targets of interest as he sped past us with the rest of his group — a fully suited elf whose armor plates glowed with an iridescent fire, an avinor dressed in what I could only describe as renaissance mercenary armor, and a fire elemental.
They were quick to speed-walk forwards, pushing past us and the crowd alike, until all four of them were positioned squarely in front of the father son duo. The crowds were quick to disperse in response, leaving a wide berth where absolutely no traffic passed.
“It has been a while since we last met, Master Solizia of Alamont.” The blonde-haired elf of the group began with a theatrical, almost rehearsed sort of cadence.
“I-indeed it has, Sir Lumelis.” He bowed deeply, once again straining from the supplies strapped to his back. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence, my lords?” He attempted to speak calmly, though the nervousness from before was not only noticeable, but completely palpable now.
“Oh don’t give us that, Master Solizia…” The frilly-armored avinor stepped forwards, her right hand perched tightly atop of her scabbard. “Has it really been so long that you’ve forgotten the rites of the road?” She snickered, shaking her head as she did so.
“I suppose it has been quite a while since I’ve had the need to take up temporary residence in—”
“Cut the pleasantries and faux-innocence, Solizia.” The elemental finally chimed in, his flames growing whiter if only for a moment. “Just save us the time, and pay your dues.”
The Vunerian nodded, sighing as he did so. “Spare us the indignities and spare yourself the shame, Solizia.”
The tension in the air grew so thick that you could cut it with a knife.
It was at this point that I knew I had to chime in, clearing my throat as I did so.
“Sorry to butt in, but… exactly what dues are you guys talking about?”
My unexpected entry threw everyone off, acting like a much-needed pressure release valve, as the elven leader of the group turned to dip his head slightly in my direction. “Blue Knight.” He began politely. “We are simply collecting on the expected dues of the night.”
I narrowed my eyes in response, before placing two balled hands on my armored hips. “Like… an entry fee? Or a parking fee to stay overnight in town?”
“That’s precisely it, Blue Knight.” The avinor spoke politely, a stark contrast from how she just regarded Solizia.
“But… aren’t you guys adventurers?”
“Indeed we are, you might have seen us at the Guild Hall, no?” Lumelis responded, before gesturing for the group to quickly reform behind him. “We are…”
“The Great—” The elf raised his arms.
“—and Bountiful—” With the Vunerian following suit.
“—Illustrious Questseekers—” Followed closely in tow by the avinor.
“—of Elaseer.” And concluding with the fire elemental, who capped things off with a small display of pyrotechnics.
A small crowd had gathered around the empty perimeter just to watch that little display. The fire elemental’s whimsical display prompted many of the roving populace around us to clap and cheer in admiration.
Thalmin and I turned to each other as if on cue, blinking to each other in a display of underwhelmed disbelief.
“Yeah, we caught that the first time in the guild hall.” I replied bluntly. “And my question still stands. Since you guys are adventurers, what right do you guys have to perform… tax duty?”
The group turned to each other, sharing the same look of confusion we held.
“We act as protection for the Night Town, Blue Knight.” The elf responded matter-of-factly.
“You and — I hate to say this — what army? This town’s massive, I don’t think you have enough eyes and ears to keep a lid on crime while protecting the town from whatever dangers might lurk outside.” I shrugged.
“Army?” The avinor turned to their elven leader, her sing-song voice clearly mocking my inquiry.
The group eventually broke out in laughter, turning to one another with prideful mirth.
“Blue Knight… your sense of humor is truly remarkable. For you see, one needs no army when protection is incurred by one’s mere presence!” Lumelis beamed brightly. “No one would dare act out of line whilst the flag of the realm flies proudly above the Night Watch’s tent!” He pointed up to the aforementioned glamping tent. “It is thus that our presence alone demands a sort of… gratuity fee.” He added in a sort of corporate faux-politeness.
I eventually turned towards the father son duo, cocking my head as I did so. “Is that really how it works here?”
The pair replied with a series of heavy nods, prompting me to lower my face into both of my palms.
“Right, right. Okay. I’m guessing we have to pay too, so let’s not kick up a fuss about this. How much is this parking/entry fee or whatever?” I questioned Lumelis.
“For travelers with no commercial intent and no wagons or carts? A single Viscount each.”
I stared at the elf blankly, turning towards Thalmin, as I prepped myself for a response I sorely dreaded.
“A viscount is half a bronze piece, Emma. Or eight copper pieces.”
“Which makes a whole bronze piece, sixteen copper pieces…” I spoke under a deeply disturbed breath.
“Correct.” Thalmin nodded.
A non-decimalized system… God help me…
“Incidentally…” Lumelis continued. “A Count — a single bronze piece — is what’s expected of an empty commercial wagon under a single independent operator. However, given Master Solizia here is carrying cargo over the expected threshold, this will lead us to a gratuity fee of a Half-Regent.”
“I’m guessing that’s what? Half a gold piece?”
“No, Emma. It’s half a silver piece. A gold piece is a sovereign.”
“Right, okay, gotcha.” I acknowledged under another strained breath. “Alright then. I’d like to pay for both of our entry fees now…” I paused, gesturing towards myself and Thalmin before extending a pointed finger at the father-son duo. “... and Master Solizia’s.”
“Actually—” The turquoise Vunerian of the group interjected, turning towards Lumelis and the rest of his cohorts with an abrasive and expectant look. “—I contest those prices.” He took a step forward following a slow nod from Lumelis, eventually crossing his arms in what I was quickly ascribing as the signature Vunerian look of superiority. “That’ll be twenty sovereigns.”
“Excuse me, what—”
“No. No… make that fifty sovereigns.” He interjected before turning to face each and every one of us. “Each.”
I turned to Lumelis expectantly. The elf, to his credit, quickly took the uppity and money-grubbing Vunerian off to the side.
Strangely, neither deployed a privacy screen.
Which meant that every whispered word was heard loud and clear… even without aid of the EVI.
“Lord Tacten, what is the meaning of—”
“I will not have those associated with Lord Rularia entering our sentry without my just compensation.” The Vunerian spoke with vitriol as I struggled to recall exactly where all of this was coming from.
Then it hit me.
“I understand that Lord Rularia has slighted you, Lord Tacten. But please, know that none of us have taken offense, nor do any of us see you as any lesser, in spite of the hurtful and scornful words he may have uttered in the guild hall.”
“This is a matter of principle, Lumelis.” The Vunerian seethed, before looking over his shoulder and attempting to lock eyes with me. “That Blue Knight is part of his peer group, along with the lupinor. Is this not the perfect chance to rectify the imbalance of dignity incurred by that sniveling actor of a noble?”
The elf paused, letting out a massive sigh as he took a moment to compose himself. “Fine. We stand as one, Lord Tacten.”
I couldn’t believe it.
I could not fricking believe it.
Even miles away from us, Ilunor had managed to screw us over in the most roundabout of ways.
If only he had kept his mouth shut in the guild hall…
“Blue Knight.” Tacten spoke haughtily. “It is with a heavy heart that I must enforce this special gratuity upon you and your commoner cohor—”
“We’re not paying.” I interrupted plainly.
This… clearly took the wind out of his sails, as his eyes grew wide and his whole rehearsed speech shattered at the seams.
“Then you cannot—”
“We were just leaving, actually.” I once more interjected, gesturing for the father-son duo to follow.
Thalmin turned his nose up at the adventuring group, making sure to meet each of their gazes before shaking his head in a way only a prince could.
“You disappoint me.” Was all he said.
The reactions on all but the Vunnerian’s faces were immediately apparent — as each member of the party averted their eyes from the mercenary prince, guilt very much painting an image of disgrace on each of their faces.
The Vunerian, however, reacted as I expected Ilunor to.
He stood there dumbfounded, confused, but most of all, enraged at me simply refusing to play his games.
Ilunor… I thought to myself frustratingly. Whatever you’re up to, I hope you know how much I hate you right now…
=====
Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30, Living Room. Local Time: 2210
Thacea
“GAH!”
I immediately perked up, rushing to the dining table to see what the commotion was about.
“What is it? What happened?” I cried out.
“A tragedy of the highest order.” Was all Ilunor said in response, pointing at a dropped pastry that sat pathetically at his feet.
“I feel as if fate has conspired against me. Like the hand of some great evil had forced me to experience such a tragedy. But alas…” The Vunerian trailed off as he lifted another cloche. “Fate cannot conspire against all of my delectable delights…”
=====
His Eternal Majesty’s Remembrance Path | The Royal Road of Transgracia. Fifteen Kilometers out from Night Town. Local Time 2355 Hours.
Emma
The journey to make camp outside of the town’s perimeter was wrought with frustration after frustration.
Frustration over the repercussions of Ilunor’s actions.
Frustration over the pay-to-win adventuring group’s appeasement of their Vunerian party member.
And frustration over once again having to divert course, if only by an hour.
However, after successfully pitching up the tents and starting the camp fire, a sort of calm eventually washed over me.
It had been… a long, long while since I even went camping.
Acela just felt too big to ever leave, especially with all there was to do at school and at JROTC.
And while there had been some camping trips with Aunty Ran, they’d always just been overnight trips that just didn’t fully scratch that itch.
But really, it was probably because of my hesitance to really commit to longer trips that made camping such a distant memory.
Maybe it reminded me of my parents just a bit too much.
Perhaps it was just the quiet that got me.
Whatever the case was, things were somehow… different here.
Maybe the quiet was more alluring now, following weeks of nonstop developments.
Whatever the case was, I eventually found myself letting go of my frustrations, eventually being met with an offer of some unknown hot beverage by Solizia.
“I’d like to thank you back there, Blue Knight.” He began softly, attempting to keep his voice down for the sake of Alamont who’d quite literally found himself sleeping just minutes after we’d made camp.
“It’s alright. If anything, I’m sorry for dragging you folk out with us.”
“No, no. We… heh. If my responses to the adventuring party didn’t make it clear enough… well… let’s just say I wasn’t in a position to really pay in the first place.” The elf admitted through a pained breath. “Moreover, that’s not all I wished to thank you for.”
I raised a brow, cocking my head as I urged the man to continue.
“I’d like to thank you… for humoring my son earlier in town. Moreover, I’d like to thank you for offering your protection. Camping out here in the open does incur the risk from both flora and fauna… not to mention the elements.”
“Hey, it’s my pleasure, Solizia. Seriously, we probably were fated to camp outside of town anyways given the beef Tacten has with us. So you two tagging along isn’t any skin off our backs.” I offered warmly, attempting to reassure the anxious man some more.
“Besides, what are the actual chances of something attacking us in the dead of night? I doubt it’s that common for—”
[PROXIMITY ALERT! MOTION DETECTED — NORTH-WEST — QUADRANT C2]
[RANGE: 142 METERS AND CLOSING.]
[COUNT: FIVE TARGETS — SPREAD FORMATION — APPROACH VECTOR ERRATIC]
[ETA: 45 SECONDS]
[Recommend Combat Presets—]
“Do it.” I answered immediately, turning to Thalmin who’d since emerged from his tent fully kitted with his sword drawn.
We turned to each other with a knowing glance as I immediately felt the armor loosening, my whole body moving freer, with greater power.
“Get behind us, or stay in your cart.” I ordered.
“W-what’s going—”
“Beasts.” Thalmin barked out.
This was all Solizia needed to know as he quickly woke up his son and immediately booked it for his cart, where he promptly shuttered all openings with a series of practiced motions.
[STATUS UPDATE: 7 TARGETS. RANGE: 100 METERS AND CLOSING.]
I quickly unholstered my gun, taking aim at the edge of the small brush the targets were closing in from.
Out of nowhere, thermals eventually turned up creatures that should have been visible from beyond 100 meters out.
I didn’t read too much into it, instead focusing on what the sensors and composite imaging revealed.
…
And what I saw was nothing short of creepy — a maned komodo, a marsupial-looking feline, a mini-wyrm, a sharp-fanged basilisk with the face of an anglerfish, and three more ‘off-looking’ analogues of both magical and earthly creatures were barreling towards us in a formation. Though their forms and coordination weren’t in and of itself the creepy part.
No.
It was their skin.
Their smooth, featureless, dotted, and uniformly speckled skin that seemed the same across creatures that should have had fur, hair, or any number of varied surfaces.
Moreover, there was something else about them that threw me completely off.
Their lack of eyes.
I turned to Thalmin for a moment, my trigger finger itching to dispatch them.
“Pointers?”
“Fire.” Thalmin responded, shifting his sword to something more suitably one-handed, and outstretching his non-dominant hand.
“Yeah, I am ready to fire, I was asking—”
“No, Emma—”
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 350% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
“—I MEANT FIRE!”
Comments
BoneBreakerPL
Sounds like nexus made money convoluted to confuse non nexians
Snow
Hexidecacimal is arguably better than decacimal
Jacob
"A non-decimalized system… " Hopefully it's at least consistently base-16. Hexidecimal is the next best thing to decimal (said the computer engineer).
Ragnar Pendon
FIRST
