Tristan

The problem for Tristan, was that he didn't really have two full days to learn. While the Farewell Ball was going to be the evening of the 27th day, Sophie, as the organizer, had a lot of demands on her time before that. Sure, she'd made most of the preparations already, but she was still expecting to be extremely busy just making sure everyone else followed through properly.

"I've also got to deal with all the unexpected issues that are bound to come up," she explained, but then her voice took a more playful tone. "So I don't reeeally have time for you to keep stepping on my toes. I need them, and preferably unbroken."

"Sorry," Tristan said with a sigh. He'd been saying that a lot--almost constantly during their dance lessons, in fact. "I was just--"

"Distracted, I know," Sophie said. "I've seen what it's like when you focus, Tristan. This isn't it. Can you just pretend for a few minutes that I'm a dueling partner or something? What's the term they say, that you need to keep your measure? Though in dancing your measure is a lot closer than with any sword, especially one the size of what you use." She laughed lightly as they moved together again, without Tristan stepping on toes this time.

"Anyway, you'll have to dance with me at least a little at the ball, so focus on that first, alright? Then you can get back to whatever it is that's bothering you."

"Sorry," Tristan repeated. "It's just, I'm not very good at this, am I?" He didn't wait for Sophie to shake her head before continuing on. "It's also that the Tier 1 Primary Contest is starting soon, and I don't know how long that'll be. I've heard it's a more involved process than the Secondary Contest was. That they actually give criticism to the finalists! I kind of want to be there for that part, but..." He paused as he barely avoided stepping on Sophie's toes again. "Gah, sorry. It's just that I really have to be there for the full Tier 2 Primary Contest, you know? My sword is going to be judged! Since that's basically my Path, it kind of feels like my whole life is being judged."

Sophie stepped away from him. "Yeah, I suppose that makes a certain amount of sense." She looked over toward where Sneakers was perched beside a music box, and without a word from her the astral pushed a button that stopped the song. "You're better than you were, at least. Possibly even passable. As long as you remember the basic table manners we went over--and the reception line etiquette!--I think you'll be fine.

Tristan smiled for what felt like the first time in a while. "Thanks, Sophie. And I promise, I'll try to live up to your expectations. I know how important this ball will be for you."

Sophie scoffed. "I don't think you do, actually, but thanks anyway, Tristan. Have fun at the Contest, and good luck!"

"You're really not coming?"

"I can't," she said, her eyes going distant momentarily. "I've been ignoring all my messages for the last half hour. There's just too much to do." She sighed. "I absolutely would if I could."

"Then good luck to you, too," Tristan said before practically sprinting all the way to the Grand Theater. He couldn't wait to see what those in the Tier 1 Primary contest came up with... and then to see just how well his sword stacked up against the best of what all the other crafters on the Crafting Ark could produce.

- - - - -

It was nearly two hours later when the judges for the Tier 1 Primary Crafting Contest finally came to a consensus, and Bobby stepped forward to announce that they'd finally selected the item that had earned the title of "Best in Tier," though Tristan was pretty sure Bobby had called it "Top Craft" in the last contest. He supposed the title didn't really matter; the awarding and honor did.

The Grand Theater all around him had once again been expanded, appearing to be larger than ever before, with seating for more people than Tristan had thought had even stepped onto the Ark. The dome at the top of the Theater had also brightened and been painted--or perhaps changed by illusion magic--to resemble a clear blue sky at midday.

Tristan's attention went back to the central stage, where somehow every whisper that came from anyone there, whether it be the green-skinned host or the judges behind him, were crystal clear. With a burst of excitement, Bobby walked confidently to the middle of the stage.

"And the winner of the Tier 1 Primary Crafting Class Contest is... the impressive [Shield Spellwand], crafted by Xames!"

The crowd roared as the victorious spellwand was held aloft, and Tristan joined in with them. He wasn't surprised in the least. It was crafted from a thin tree branch that had somehow been coaxed to twist into almost a cage that would surround the hand and wrist of the user, almost like a bracer. It was beautiful in its seeming delicate nature, but given that it also cast the typically-tier 2 [Shield] spell upon its wielder, he knew it was anything but delicate in nature.

After they'd demonstrated its abilities, and the judges had talked through their opinions of its crafting techniques, none of the other Tier 1 entries really had much of a chance in Tristan's opinion. The spellwand was just too far ahead of the curve for its tier.

He made a mental note to try and follow the career of its crafter. The blue scaleborn enchanter, with a profile resembling the smoothness of a snake or hydra more than the ridges of a dragon, was clearly able to coax more from wood than Tristan had ever been.

The next twenty minutes were filled with celebration, the distribution of prizes, and the shifting of the audience as those interested in only the Tier 1s left and others replaced them.

Early in the process, Tristan's stomach began to clench. He'd seen the Tier 1 judges switching out with those who would preside over the Tier 2 Contest. As expected, one of them was Gorrek, still wearing the frown that Tristan now suspected might just be bolted on. At least he doesn't reserve it just for me, Tristan thought, sighing.

What Tristan hadn't expected was that one of the judges from the previous contest didn't leave, and on closer inspection, he realized it was someone he knew! It was the old elf, Spiro, that he'd met with Sophie on the first day of the cruise, the same elf who had visited him when he'd been struggling to blend the mithrils. The elf's incredibly long ears twitched this way and that, though his amused smile seemed untouched by the rowdiness around him. He was wearing bright white robes that didn't exactly glow, but now that Tristan had noticed them, they kept catching his eye. How had he missed them before?

It took another ten minutes for Bobby to return to the front of the stage. With his reassuring laughs and easy smiles, he delivered an opening speech reminding the people present of the terms and conditions of entry, as well as introducing each of the judges. In addition to Gorrek and Spiro, there were three others, though Tristan only recognized one of them. As the name "Kimmeck" was given and the tanned, female dwarf stood, he knew he'd seen her before. The glowing halo over her head was just too distinctive. She'd been introduced by Bobby at his orientation meeting. He remembered that she was an enchanter, and that both thrilled and terrified him as he wondered how harshly she might view the work of his newest skills.

The other two were a bird-woman (whose name Tristan couldn't pronounce) that looked a lot like the mythical phoenixes Tristan had read about in his storybooks as a child, and an incredibly large and shiny golem. At first Tristan had mistaken the judge for a man in incredibly flashy armor, but Bobby's introduction made clear that this was truly a golem. Steelgon (which Tristan found to be a foolish name) was a creation that had gained sapience and become a renowned crafter in his own right.

Bobby thanked all five judges, and then the festivities truly began. A parade of items, carried and displayed by dozens of Ark workers, were brought down the aisles and up to the stage. Nearly all of these creations were a step up in quality from the previous contest's entries. Each was walked across the stage, displayed grandly in the spotlight, and given a few minutes for the judges to provide praise and criticism, all of which Tristan thought very fair, minus Gorrek's constant criticism of each piece.

Until it was his sword's turn.

"It is... beautiful," the immense golem said. "Look at how well its materials are blended."

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"It's fun to look at," Spiro agreed. "I'm partial to the reddish glow, myself, but what of its properties?"

"It is impressive that it has so many properties," the red-feathered bird woman replied.

"But that's because it's got runes on it," Gorrek spat. "We're here to judge Primary Class crafts, aren't we? Adding enchantments doesn't make the sword any better."

"Does it not?" the golem asked.

"No!" Gorrek spat, "Besides the whole bloody sword is unusable--I can't even equip it! Is it because of the 'Soulbound' property? What even is that? Whatever else the sword may be, that one property overshadows it!"

"That's a bit unfair," Kimmeck responded. "The sword and its properties are well made. And look: this one is actually new! Do you all recognize that? This [Minor Rune: Attention!]" With a wave of her hands, illuminated words began to fill the space above her head, spelling out--to the delight of the crowd--the exact wording of his new rune.

So [Identify] is working for them. Tristan immediately attempted to scan Kimmeck, hoping to see her Class or level at least--only to receive the same blocked message. For them, but not us, he corrected.

Around the audience, people were pointing at the words, a few even clapped. As Tristan observed, heads bobbed in appreciation, even among the other judges.

But not Gorrek. The angry dwarf doubled down. "But you can't just ignore that it's 'Soulbound'! Why would anyone add that kind of property? The whole bloody sword is useless!"

The bird-woman weighed in. "As you've pointed out, it's unorthodox, but it is not 'useless' at all. Presumably the person who made it can use it."

"A lot of good that'll do for most crafters!"

"Except for those that follow a hybrid Path," the bird woman continued. "Then it would most assuredly be a wonderful tool for tanking--"

"Or simply sustaining oneself," Steelgon added, clearly agreeing.

Kimmeck shifted the words over her head, enlarging the section about Stealth. "It will shine most while tanking for a party though. Look at the creativity here to circumvent their low tier and still provide an ability similar to [Taunt]."

"Which a real tank would already have," Gorrek muttered.

"I have here that this weapon earned its crafter an Inspiration," Spiro added, tapping a page in front of him.

"That isn't what we're judging!" Gorrek said, thumping his hands on the table. "This contest isn't about the maker, it's about the item made. I can't use this sword, much as I might like to. 'Presumably' only one blessed person on this whole blessed Ark can use it. Something like that simply cannot be called the best at its tier!"

Gorrek lifted one hand and violently pointed toward another sword that had just gone offstage. A curved, midnight black, single-edged blade with a perfectly circular guard and a grip long enough to accommodate two hands. Tristan had remembered how effortlessly that blade had cut through tier 3 materials during its demonstration, and he had to admit that it did seem like a magnificent weapon.

"That blade was amazing," Gorrek said. "Do you recall we barely had any negative notes? It was incredible! This... it's possibly great for whoever can use it, but since no one bloody can, it can't possibly be better than that katana!"

"We are not debating that blade at this time," the enormous golem said, moving one arm as if to gently sweep talk of the pure-black sword away. "It is instead this item's turn."

The image over Kimmik's head swirled again, this time showing Tristan's blade, specifically the runes themselves. "Was this really crafted by a blacksmith-type Primary? The runes are so well made I can't even tell."

The comment made Tristan swell with pride.

"Incorporating additional Classes doesn't necessarily lead to a better score," Spiro spoke up and visibly checked his notes. "However, yes, I have here that this young crafter was a swordsmith. Tristan Hammerson," he said, drawing an interested Oooh of recognition from the crowd.

Despite that, Tristan saw the scowl of the dwarven man deepen before he muttered, "You're telling me a Hammerson made something people can't use? I suppose it's no wonder, if it came from that boy. I dislike it even more now!"

"Regardless, the control here is ridiculously impressive," Kimmeck said, ignoring Gorrek and highlighting a few of the rune's thinner strokes, "and being able to put two runes in tandem like this, at tier 2, with a Secondary Class--"

"Is overridden by the fact that it's bloody marred by that Soulbound property!" Gorrek charged back.

They continued back and forth even as the blade's balance, cutting edge, and strength were tested. Gorrek remained insistent, which led to Tristan feeling as bad as when he'd been sliced up by Jamal. Overall, they gave mostly positive feedback... but then there was Gorrek.

Once they agreed to move on--and Tristan suspected it was at least in part to get Gorrek to stop being so overly critical--the parade of remaining items only took about an hour. After seeing over a hundred items in total, it was time for the judges' final deliberation.

"I feel that we must include the two swords," the golem began, adding for clarification, "the katana and the greatsword."

Gorrek sighed. "At least one of them, anyway."

Steelgon raised one metal eyebrow, his face otherwise blank. "You don't think the katana is also deserving? Wasn't that the one made by a Steelblood Guildmember?"

Tristan heard several people near him chuckle, but given the rising red color in the dwarf judge's face, he didn't exactly share their humor.

"I actually agree with Gorrek--in part," the bird woman hastily added. "Among so many strong contenders, are we certain we want to include two swords in the final three?"

But quickly enough they came to a final three with both swords and a teal-colored elixir, which Tristan had kind of overlooked while it was being presented since he'd still been reeling from Gorrek's blasting of his prized creation.

Looking at the flask of easily-flowing liquid now and listening to their discussion of it... Well, honestly, he still didn't exactly understand its appeal. He just wasn't big on the whole "single-use consumable" thing. He wanted all of his crafts to last, not be used once and never again. He could just imagine hoarding piles and piles of the potions or scrolls, never using them for fear of needing them later...

The discussion of the [Liquiform Flask] did, at least, make him appreciate that not all effects did you want to be permanent. As cool as it sounded to be able to convert your body to a puddle capable of infiltrating basically anywhere, the returning to normal at the end seemed super important too.

The phoenix woman was as vehement about the elixir's inclusion as Gorrek was for the other sword. "It's still an incredibly powerful effect with a duration you'd expect to find in a tier 3 potion. To be quite frank, I'm not sure how this crafter managed it."

On and on they went, until eventually Bobby went back to the center stage, bowed, and said, "I hate to rush you, but there is another contest after this one. We're going to need your final decisions. I've given each of you a sheet of paper with the three final items on it. Please just rank them as you see fit, from 1 to 3, with 1 of course being the item you think is best." Then, looking directly at Gorrek, he added with a wink, "And so you know, even if you write a number higher than 3, it will still count as a 3."

"I can only give an item what I think it deserves," the dwarf man said, visibly adding a few zeroes to his page.

"Your stubbornness is irrational and may cost a worthy winner his rightful due," the golem said, shaking its head.

The other dwarf, Kimmeck the enchantress, seemed to pull all the light from the stage around herself. "We've talked enough. Just pass them in already."

That comment brought out applause from the crowd. Tristan clearly wasn't the only one hungry for the results, even if they weren't quite as invested as he was.

Bobby walked down the length of the table, collecting the judges' ballots, and by the time he got to the end, he was clearly doing some sort of math. What impressed Tristan most was that it took the host less than a minute to total it all and call everyone's attention.

"And with that vote, the judges have made a decision! The results were incredibly close, only separated by one point at the top, and five points from 1st to 3rd! With all that said, our third place finalist is..."

Bobby paused and turned his back to the workers holding up each of the three finalist items, instead facing the judges.

"Wait, I just realized that I haven't properly thanked all our judges for their service! This truly is a thankless job, and they're bound to get some flack no matter how this vote goes. And will they even get paid for--?"

"GET ON WITH IT!" someone in the crowd yelled.

Bobby grinned. "Right, right, silly me. And here I thought anticipation was one of the greatest joys of life."

Behind him, Spiro shook his head and chuckled. "Stop teasing the guests, Bobby."

"You're right, of course. The third place finalist is... the [Nightsteel Katana], crafted by Shamus McKinney!" A red-haired man stood and gave a large wave to the crowd, though the disappointment was clear on his face.

That left Tristan's newest greatsword and the [Liquiform Elixir] as the top two entries. But who would win?

Tristan stared daggers at the shirtless, emerald skin of Bobby as he clapped toward the third place finisher. It felt like every second was an additional weight slung around his neck, trying to pull him to the ground.

The smiling host finally lifted his hands and voice once again. "That just leaves our last two finalists. Separated by one point, in literally as close a vote as I've ever seen, the winner of the Tier 2 Primary Crafting Class Contest is...!"

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