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Going Once, Twice, Three Times...Sold (Part Four)

  (In the display room)

  The next person to arrive almost went unnoticed until he was in the middle of the room, which was doubly peculiar since the man was over six feet tall, this being Henry Callaway, hero of the Death god, Baruth. Despite his long, blazing red hair, he looked quite pensive. His presentation looked to be the oddest yet since he was brought what appeared to be an already dead body bound in leather straps to a stretcher and a runty looking piglet. The dead body suddenly began struggling against the restraints. Callaway slightly flinched at the abrupt motion, but he began calmly walking towards the undead and knelt beside it. Almost like he was placing his hand on a fussing baby, Henry touched the undead’s forehead and a black mist seemed to flow outward from his body. Bowing his head in prayer, the undead began thrashing harder, but Henry remained where he was. A moment passed and like a marionette with no strings, the undead stopped moving and an ethereal figure appeared above the remains. Standing at attention, Callaway held his hand up at the apparition and with no fanfare, it disappeared. Then, walking over to the piglet, the giant man knelt down and even from a distance, you could see how he looked ready to cry. The same black mist began pouring from his body, and if ‘stink’ was a feeling rather than a smell, an uneasy feeling passed over everyone in the room. Sensing something was wrong, the piglet began struggling against the rope around its neck. Seeing the animal so desperate made Callaway clench his hand and he canceled out the malignant feeling magic. Gently as he could, he picked up the piglet and tried whispering to try and calm it down. Soon enough, the piglet stopped thrashing and actually fell asleep in the large man’s arms. With a single tear running down his cheek, Henry reactivated the black magic and touched the piglet whose breath immediately ceased. The big man closed his eyes and let out a long sigh.

  (Back in the debate room)

  “Such potential is one easily abused for power and for gain”, Manya measured her words carefully, “Cestny has the least to gain from this power, but simultaneously, we have the greatest opportunity to reap the benefits of its power. I trust I need not say more.”

  While the Rathborians and the Alhadarans looked like they were sucking on a sour candy, they wisely decided to remain silent. The various abuses Cestny had suffered over the centuries, particularly at their hands, were a sore subject. It was also the driving reason behind the tiny country becoming a neutral entity.

  With that, two countries had found the heroes they wanted and the other four were prepared to fight tooth and nail for who remained.

  (In the display room)

  In walked the familiar face of Frank. He was dressed in the form-fitting but moveable robes of the Cassidian temple. He had a gladius strapped to his hip, a longsword across his back, a round shield the size of a wagon wheel that he carried with ease, and the handle of a knife could be seen sticking out of his boot. He stood tall and proud but moved lithely. His head was shaved bald and his eyes never once showed any sign of fear. For Frank’s demonstration, he was faced with a single man dressed similarly and looking every bit as intense. The two men drew their gladii and bowed their heads to one another, never breaking eye contact.

  They began slowly circling one another eyeing their opponent like predators. Frank took a quick step forward, but his opponent didn’t flinch, seeing through the young hero’s bluff charge. Narrowing his eyes, Frank beat his sword off the front of his shield twice. Frank noticed the other man put his rear foot behind his front when he moved to try and keep his body bladed. Closing the distance, the War hero slashed his sword at his opponents feet, but the man planted his feet, and when Frank’s sword met his greaves, it bounced off and a sheen of energy could be seen, ‘Dammit, magical armor’, he inwardly swore, ‘He was baiting me with how he was moving.’

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  Taking the initiative, his opponent began thrusting his sword forward towards Frank’s neck. Despite his lack of experience, Frank expertly parried each thrust. Suddenly his opponent took a large swing that Frank had to lean backwards to avoid, but midway through, the man shifted his stance and the sword thrust forward forcing the young hero to raise his shield. But as he did so, his opponent kicked Frank’s exposed stomach, making him double over and knocking the wind from him. Thinking he had the hero on the ropes, his opponent quickly brought his sword downwards. The gladii were enchanted for this event so they wouldn’t kill, but Frank would leave this fight with a sore neck. Unbeknownst to the man, even while he was cheap shotted, due to the blessing of the War god, Frank could still make out in vivid detail, the movement the man would make by watching his stance and predict his next move simply by noticing the subtle shifts and twitches in his muscles. Dashing forward he ducked underneath the swinging arm, inside of the sword’s reach. Jabbing his gladius up, Frank hit what would be the artery within the armpit. As he stood back up, he made a downward slash with the sword along his opponent’s thigh. In the split second while the man was grimacing in pain, Frank heaved his body forward and rammed his shield into the man’s chest making him stumble backwards. The man only blinked for a second in surprise and when he opened his eyes again, he saw the tip of the young hero’s sword pointed a hairsbreadth from his chin. Without any prompting, he dropped his own sword and raised his hand, conceding defeat.

  (In the debate room)

  Frode brokered no argument, “My country will accept no less than the War hero into our ranks.”

  General Titus gave him a suspicious look, “The combination of the powers of the hero of War and the hero of Healing, while simple, are a difficult one to overcome.”

  Frode’s eyes narrowed at the unspoken accusation, “Ode has some of the finest warriors in the land. Something even you must concede, general.”

  Titus didn’t look pleased, but he didn’t decry the lynx-man’s claim. Out of all the countries the Rathborians had attempted to conquer, their failure at crushing their icy neighbor was a sore point for their history.

  “Besides, if we can have the most combat-centric heroes all gathered in the countries closest to the front, we can hold the demons off for longer, agreed?”

  While the general didn’t seem pleased about the development, the other countries internally smirked at seeing the smaller country obtain such a formidable ally.

  With a knowing look, Yusuf spoke to Frode, “I’m rather surprised, Odean, with your country being an island, I would think you may have fought harder for the Sea hero.”

  (In the display room)

  In next walked a man who could simply be described as broad. His shoulders were wide, his arms looked like two cannons and his weathered face was uninviting. This was Charlie Rivera, the hero of the Sea. Without any fanfare, he raised his hands and water began flowing from his hands like cracks in a dam. Within less than a minute, the room was covered in six feet of water. From up on the balcony, the ambassador of Mahad Alhadara sniffed the air, “Seawater. Even in such a landlocked place as Acolynia. The man’s very being is tied to the sea.”

  Standing on top of the water, Charlie raised his hand and snapped his palm back and the water began making an eddy with him at the center. Raising his other hand, he brought his arm from one side to the other and a fifteen foot wave crashed through the room. Then, as if making mashing noises with his hands, the water started to coagulate and form together. Fins, tentacles, pincers, shells, tails and eyeballs began forming. Soon, piranhas, whales, squid, octopus, crabs and dolphins all surrounded the broad man. Then he opened his mouth and let out a series of clicks, groans, screeches and other breathy sounds which nobody could discern, but his constructs all nodded affirmatively. About half of the animals surrounded Charlie while the other half turned to them and began mutating their bodies to more monstrous appearances. The monsters began attacking and Charlie began ordering his constructs to organize themselves. In a few minutes, though there were only a few left, Charlie’s regular constructs, through his guidance had come out on top. Bowing to the observers, he made a cutting motion with his hand, and all his constructs fell apart into nothing but water, all of which drained into nothing.

  (Back in the debate room)

  Frode nodded, “It is true, our navy is strong, but our waters being as wild as they are is every bit as much a hindrance as a help.”

  Yusuf nodded with a smile, “In that case, our navy and our sea creatures will benefit from the might of Mr. Rivera commanding the sea. I believe the Desire hero would also make a fine addition to our force.”

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