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  Hyena Werks, A proud Orario Company.

  DanmachiXDnD Nonhuman semi SI

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  Chapter Eleven:

  Gnolledge is Power

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  Staring forlornly down at my empty plate, I debated if it would be worth casting aside any pretense of dignity I may still have and just start licking up the last bits of leftover gravy and gristle from the remains of my dinner.

  The hustle and bustle of a busy restaurant surrounding me continued on, heedless of the internal battle raging inside my head between my pride and more food. Seated alone at the end of The Hostess of Fertility’s bar, I was a singular island of placidity in a turbulent sea of socializing. The tavern filled to the brim with adventurers from all walks of life- Each and every one of them was lured here tonight to partake in the timeless, ancient pastime of drinking and feasting.

  Although, their reasons for doing so varied wildly.

  Many of them were here to celebrate some grand achievement. Whether that be a Rank Up, a successful hunt, or merely surviving another day- They partied regardless.

  They laughed, they sang, they drank, they ate, they even cried. They did everything, anything they could to prove they were still alive; Thriving even, in the face of another day fighting the endless hordes of monsters that lived beneath our very feet.

  But then there were the others.

  The ones that wandered in alone and lost, drawn in by the swell of pure- unfiltered humanity that these walls contained. These ones staggered into the warm and inviting scene with blood, sometimes their own and sometimes not, staining their clothes. A few of these broken souls would drag themselves to an empty table and order multiple drinks. One they would keep for themselves, the rest they would leave untouched before the empty chairs surrounding them.

  Cutting through the chaotic dichotomy between despair and euphoria- The waitresses glided with inhuman, inexhaustible grace; Bearing more fuel for the revelers, and liquid relief for the lost.

  Separate to, but neither above nor below the tumultuous atmosphere was myself.

  In a sea of humanoid beings, the lumbering- looming form of a gnoll leaning over the bar and glaring at his empty plate stood out like, well… A gnoll in a room full of humans. Sure, some of them might have a few extra bits and bobs tacked on, but at their core they looked human, they acted human, and for the most part thought like humans.

  Both myself, and these strangers from a strange land didn’t know what to make of each other- And neither of us knew how to bridge the gap needed to actually learn.

  Without Loki and her familia here to help run interference, the vast majority of the population of Orario had seemingly decided to take a ‘wait and see’ approach to my very existence. While they haven’t chased me out of town with pitchforks and torches yet- Outside of the odd sideways look or subtle glare, no one here besides the wait staff had bothered to so much as even say hello.

  And neither myself, nor Max had any idea how to break the ice ourselves. For Max, all of the stares and whispers were raising his hackles like nothing else. The unwanted attention doing nothing good for the naturally paranoid and mistrusting gnoll’s well-being. It was taking nearly everything I had to reign him in and not growl back at some of the more hostile glares being sent our way.

  For my own part, I… I just didn’t even know where to begin to connect with these people; Our worlds were simply too different- too far apart. The social skills and habits I’d developed over my twenty odd years of life were utterly worthless in this land of myth and magic. I mean, I couldn’t exactly go and strike up a conversation with the armored man in steel plate beside me by asking him what his favorite sports team is or if he saw that new movie with so and so in it.

  How the hell do you relate with people whose entire lifestyle, livelihood, and even their very culture revolved around killing creatures that looked almost exactly like yourself for money and fame?

  Well, neither of us had found an answer to that particular question yet. So instead Max and I just sat there in silence, stewing in our own head while wishing we had more food to sacrifice to the eternally yawning, empty chasm that was our belly.

  I was about to bite the bullet and order another criminally expensive steak when the entire bar was silenced by the door being kicked open with a resounding bang.

  I could practically taste the excitement and intrigue wafting off my fellow patrons as tonight's entertainment came stomping in through the door in the form of Loki, the goddess of trickery herself, looking madder than a wet hen. Her fox-like eyes instantly snapping to me as soon as she cleared the doorway.

  Over her head I could see Finn and Ais following her in. Finn with a relaxed gait and an amused grin on his lips, while Ais just kinda drifted along airily; Not paying any particular attention to her surroundings.

  Battle hardened adventurers were sent scrambling out of their seats as the wrathful goddess stormed across the floor in a straight shot at me, fists balled up at her sides and fiery fury in her eyes.

  “You. Fucking. Asshole!” Every hissed word was accented by a sharp poke to my chest… Which I didn’t feel at all through my armored jerkin. “All that talk about not wanting to join a familia, making your own way and all that nonsense! And the first thing you do the second your out is go and join that-! That-! That harlot! Well!? What do you have to say for yourself!?”

  “Uhhh-” Quickly flashing a desperate look at her two handlers looking for any kind of hint as to what the hell she was talking about- All I found was one blond bimbo staring off into space, and the other blond bimbo’s smug- knowing smile. “-hhh, hey Loki, what’er you talking about?”

  With a triumphant snort, she pulled out a rolled up scroll and snapped it open with a flourish; Waving it back and forth in the air like a scorned lover presenting evidence of their partner's infidelity. Behind her, I could see the rest of the room watching raptly as Orarios newest drama unfolded before them.

  “‘Hear-ye hear-ye, good people of Orario! On the fifth of Skirophorion, in the year of the Gods Decent, one-thousand, and two!-’” Loki shouted, reading from the paper as if she was an impassioned preacher howling a fiery gospel. “‘-The Hephaestus familia, in proud collaboration with the Ganesha familia, is pleased to announce…”

  At this, she looked up to stare me right in the eyes, already knowing the next words by heart. “A Duel Between the Divine and Mortal. Hephaestus, goddess of fire, blacksmithing, and volcanoes has been challenged by Maedmux Maddic, the Hyena-man to a battle of craftsmanship. This affair of honor will be decided on the sands of the Amphitheatron. At stake for the challenged is property from her very own seat of power, while the challenger pledges… His. Un. Dying. Loyalty!’” She finally bit out, crumbling up the scroll as she did so. “What the actual fuck Max!?”

  Damn, Hephaestus works fast if she's already sending out flyers. Though I wonder why she's bothering to make a big production out of it? I figured it was just going to me and her duking it out in private. Regardless- “Hey! I haven't joined anyone’s familia yet! That clearly says I challenged her!”

  "You challenged her-” The goddess growled, looking seconds away from wrapping her skinny arms around my neck and throttling me for some weird reason. “-Over who was better at her Divine Aspect! And you expect to win!? There’s no one on this earth, and a vanishingly few in heaven, who can even hold a candle to her skill! Even with her arcanum sealed, she is still the fucking goddess of blacksmiths you fool! Those piddly little bags of yours aren't going to cut it!”

  Suddenly, something unnamable flashed in her eyes, before she quickly shot a look to the side. Seemingly gauging the reactions of our fully captivated audience. In that instant it dawned on me to question how actually angry Loki was, and how much of this was performative.

  Whatever it was that she saw, it must have caused her to switch tactics- Because after pausing to ‘collect herself’, she then started speaking at a slightly more even tone. “Do you have any idea of what kind of position you’ve put me in Max? I already told a’ bunch of gods that I got first dibs on your furry ass- So when you lose, not if, when you lose to that bimbo, I’m going to have to declare a War Game on one of my familia’s biggest suppliers just to save face! You talked big game back in that guard house, and for your own sake I hope you live up to even a fraction of it, cause’ I’m gonna have to wring every last scrap outta’ you just to break even!”

  In the ensuing silence, I stared down at the irate goddess with a raised eyebrow and an unidentified emotion curling uncomfortably in my belly. That emotion quickly made itself known as unbridled fury when I felt its boiling rage burning through my veins. How fucking dare this pipsqueak come storming in here and use me as her prop in whatever game shes playing? And far more importantly- How fucking dare she question my skill!?

  But rather than blowing up at the fox-like god before me, I instead leaned back in my stool while staring down the tip of my muzzle at her as a huge, toothy grin slowly slid over my face.

  And that boiling anger? It was tempered- molded by my human will, and Max’s insatiable desire to be the fucking best artificer that had ever graced the infinite realms. So instead of exploding into a towering rage as is the want of gnolls, I instead started to laugh.

  And laugh.

  And laugh.

  Before abruptly cutting myself off mid mad cackling and swooping low so I was face to face with a now wide eyed Loki. “Listen, and listen well Creature From Beyond That Plays At Being Human. This so-called Goddess of Blacksmiths can call our spat whatever she likes- A duel, a battle, an ‘affair of honor’- It doesn’t fuckin’ matter, because to me? It doesn’t fuckin’ matter.”

  With another dark chuckle I continue before she can get a word in edgewise. “It's just a gods damned chore- Another headache, another hoop I gotta’ jump through before I can really start getting shit done around here. So no, Loki, you don’t have ta’ go around picking fights with your buddies for my sake. Because I'm not just going to beat her- I’m going to destroy her.”

  Leaning back with a self satisfied smirk after delivering my own WWE-esque hype speech, I spared a quick glance of my own at the peanut gallery to see how they took it, and I was not disappointed by their reactions.

  A sea of glittering eyes and decidedly not very nice smiles greeted me. Letting me know that, if nothing else, I just gave them enough fuel to keep Orario’s Eternal Gossip Pyre burning for weeks.

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  The Next Night.

  “'Chug chug chug chug chug! YAHHH!-’”

  The chanting crowd went wild when I yanked my now empty mug away, revealing a gold Valis coin clenched in my teeth; Which I then spit back into the cup with a laugh. Thunking the wooden mug back down onto the table, it joined a small mountain of its fellows. Each one an enduring testament to my many victories this night.

  Across the table, my current opponent- A dwarf by the name of Dormul Bolster from the small but respected Magni familia finished a few seconds after me. His mug lowered with far less grace than my own, slamming into the table and rolling to the floor after slipping from his grasp. The bold and squarish face poking up from his furred collar was glowing a ruddy red, and his unfocused eyes wavered for a few moments more before rolling up into his head. The diminutive but stocky man then teetered forward and crashed onto the table, scattering his mugs with a clatter that sounded like victory.

  As the crowd around me cheered, I accepted another cup from a stone-faced elven waitress whose name I’d forgotten but was on the tip of my tongue. Raising it in a toast, I cheered my fallen adversary as he was being hauled up in a fireman's carry by one of his dwarven comrades. “To your health, Mister Bolster!”

  A musclebound amazoness soon slid smoothly into the now vacant seat amongst the laughs and jeers, the cocky grin on her lips letting everyone know that she would finally be the one to finally end my reign of terror. In response I simply tipped my mug back and down its contents in just two gulps, making sure to flash my fangs as I did so.

  Hmpf, dummy. Gnolls have advantage on saving throws against poison. We’re gonna drink you under that table in ten minutes flat.

  While the crowd’s cheers renewed with a vengeance when my opponent grabbed two mugs at once, all I could think in that moment was that It's amazing what notoriety can do for one's social prospects.

  Overnight I went from a creepy, monstrous-looking social pariah to the man everyone wanted to shake the paw of. Sure, there was an undercurrent of mean-spiritedness to it- with lots of people clearly hyping me up for what in their eyes is an inevitable and hilarious downfall. Kinda like trolls building up their favorite lolcow just so the crashout will be all that more spectacular.

  But regardless; I was finally meeting people. As it turns out- All we needed to bridge that gap was the age-old ingredient used as a social lubricant since time immemorial.

  Copious amounts of booze.

  Calling her raise, I dual-wielded my own mugs with a cackling smile.

  What started as people buying me drinks in a transparent attempt at getting me drunk in order to fish more personal info out of me quickly spiraled out of control into a no holds bar drinking tournament, where contenders from all races and levels rose up to lay this hooch guzzling gnoll low.

  It would take most of the night and many, many martyrs to succeed.

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  “Damn, Max. Who pissed in your gruel this morning?”

  In lieu of any witty response, all that answered Loki’s annoying voice was a growl and a furry middle finger. All of which accomplished nothing but make the annoyance grin wider with a chuckle.

  After being rudely awoken with a bucket of cold water to the face, and an unrepentant Mama Mia telling me to get my furry ass up and to the colosseum cause’ I was late for my ‘date with destiny’… Or something. I couldn’t quite remember what she said over the incessant, blooming headache burning behind my eyes. The pain thudding a relentless drum beat had done nothing good for my mood.

  When I staggered out of the inn, the sunlight shining up above drilled straight through my eyes and directly into my poor aching brain… So I growled at it.

  The non-stop chattering of people around me was like suffering from back to back ice-pick lobotomies… So I growled at them.

  The very air itself burned my nose and drove my agony to new heights. So I growled at it too.

  I growled and snapped at every last irritation on my way to the Amphitheatron, till now- deep within the musty depths of the heart of Orario’s primary entertainment center, I growled at the redheaded menace who continued to pester me as I sat on a wooden bench while massaging my temples.

  I had tried taking an endurance potion, a minor health potion, and even one of the local’s potions, but none of it did more than take the barest edge off my headache. It wasn’t until I bit the bullet and downed one of my few potions of Vitality did my killer hangover begin to recede. Though, even sitting in the dark and cool basement of the Amphitheatron, it still had a bite to it that left me whimpering every time I moved my head too quickly.

  Change of plans: Forget magical weapons or anything like that, the first thing I’m inventing is Gatorade.

  Or a Bloody Mary.

  Hrmmmmmmmmpfh.

  “So I heard you had a good time last night~."

  "Shut your face, you accursed, infernal creature!"

  The cackling only intensified, the red headed demon clutching her sides as she doubled up in what looked like physical pain. It took her a full minute to compose herself, and only after wiping away her tears did she continue. "Oh, man- I've only known you a week but I already feel like I can tell you to 'never change' Max. Getting pissed drunk the night before you make an ass of yourself in front of the whole city? Classic you."

  My clever rebuttal- flipping her the bird again- was interrupted by a suit wearing goon with the Guild's emblem pinned to his chest striding into my waiting room. "You're on in five, Mister Maddic."

  Showtime, I guess.

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  The roar of the crowd hit me like a punch to the gut as I stepped out onto the sun-baked sands of the colosseum.

  It wasn't so much as the noise as it was the sheer amount of people that caused me to freeze in place, staring in open mouthed shock at the sight of the nearly packed stadium. My hangover momentarily forgotten, I swung my head down to look Loki in the eye.

  Already knowing my question, she was prepared to answer… Though not before openly laughing in my face at whatever expression I was making. "What in Hel were you expecting Max? You, Orario's newest curiosity, openly challenged a god of blacksmithing to a crafting competition. There hasn't been a mortal as pigheadedly stubborn and prideful to do something like this since Arachne challenged Athena to that sewing competition back in the seventies."

  Waving a hand to the crowd, a sinister grin slowly grew on her face as she continued. "They're all here to see you fail, Maddic."

  "Then they will leave disappointed." I rumbled under my breath with a growl as I stomped past the smirking goddess and towards the two temporary smithies set up in the center of the ring. Whatever the announcer said to hype up the teeming masses went ignored, as did the rapidly swelling clamor of the crowd as Hephaestus herself, along with one of her familia members holding a leather bundle to his chest exited the opposite tunnel, waving to the crowd as she did so.

  We met before the hastily constructed smithies. Which were as basic as they come- just a bog-standard steel anvil propped up off the sand with some wood blocks, a brick and mortar furnace already filled with charcoal, and a fold-out table with a clamp mounted to one end.

  The only real thing of interest was the two identically laden tables placed separately from each workspace. Each one piled high with a bevy of raw materials ranging from metal ingots and leather sheets to boxes filled with assorted monster crystals and drops.

  But it was the pair of jet-black ingots sitting innocently at the end of both tables all on their lonesome that really drew my eye.

  There's no way.

  "I didn't want there to be any allegations of victory through superior resources, so here's the deal, Max. If you agree, my familia will supply all of today's crafting materials for free, but in return, both of us can only use what's here; No pulling any fantastical monster parts or some such out of that magic bag of yours. If you don’t agree, then I’m taking both of these tables for myself, and leaving you with only what you have on your person.”

  Tearing my eyes away from what could only be two entire ingots of high-grade mithril, each one worth a small kingdom just sitting there, I didn’t even need to answer the smugly smirking goddess; She knew she had me hooked the second I laid eyes on the impossibly valuable metal. I was more than willing to accept such a generous offer, but I had just one burning question that needed to be addressed first. “So if I agree then I can’t bring in any outside materials, but what about my tools?”

  “You will be, of course, allowed to use your own kit.” She said, while simultaneously giving a nod to her assistant. Without a word the man took his bundle and unrolled it across one of the work-tables; Revealing a whole smithy's worth of well-worn, but clearly well-loved tools that glowed with the unmistakable orange-hued incandescence of adamantite. “Because I will certainly be using mine.” She added with a smug grin while cocking her hip to the side.

  Mollified, I readily agreed to being given a fucking mithril ingot, amongst a whole other pile of treasures, for basically nothing.

  With the deal struck, both of us went to work making each smithy our own. The first thing I did was take the leftover length of chain from my old chainsword project from my bag, and tightly wrapped it around the anvil to help deaden the sound of striking it. From there, I started laying out my own tools in neat rows on the table. Hammers, tongs, chisels, clamps, vices, and rulers- the pile of tools grew taller and taller every time my paw dipped into the small messenger bag at my waist. Until finally, I was pulling out the most important pieces of kit you could have in a dangerous work environment; The PPE.

  A pair of goggles with lightly smoked lenses was pulled around my forehead with the satisfying slap of leather on fur, and a crude cotton-mesh respirator quickly joined it; Which I left dangling around my neck. A pair of wyvern hide gloves with small holes punched in the tips for my claws were pulled halfway up my forearm. And lastly, I carefully donned a sinfully fluffy nyx-wool hat.

  Shaped kinda like one of those Russian ear-flap hats except in reverse, my ears slid into two little pockets that stuck straight up into the air. Both of them stuffed with more wool and cotton to hopefully help reduce any further damage to my ears.

  To be truthful… It was kinda too little too late at this point. After two and a half decades of non-stop blacksmithing, intense combat, and tanking more than a few explosions to the face- Max’s ears were mostly shot by now. Still leagues better than a human’s mind you, but he might as well be deaf by a gnoll’s standard.

  Regardless, I still feel like it's best to try and stop any further damage to our hearing, so the hat stays. No matter how much Max finds it distracting and uncomfortable to have those satellite dishes he calls ears covered up.

  Now I was decked out to the nines in a way not even OSHA could file a complaint about.

  Ear protection? I wiggled my ears within the upside-down Ushanka hat; Check.

  Eye protection? I pulled the goggles off my forehead with a single claw and let them snap back over my eyes with a crack; Check.

  Paw protection? I gave my gloves a once over, looking for any tears or holes and finding none; Check.

  Respiratory protection? Fingering my mask for a second, I shrugged and decided to leave it off for now. I doubt I’ll be working with any dangerous fumes and such today; Either way- Check.

  Body protection? I wrapped my knuckles against my studded leather vest with a smile; Check.

  Head protection? My skull’s thick enough to have its own armor rating; Check.

  Foot protection? Looking down, I stared at my practically bare paws that were wrapped in nothing but a thin strip of cloth for a moment before shrugging again; Eh, fuck it. Can’t win ‘em all.

  Sparing a glance at my competition, I caught her sneaking her own glance back at me as she fussed over her tools; Her sole eye wide and growing wider as I pulled an entire workshop out of my bag. Her expression of shock quickly dropped into carefully composed neutrality as we made eye contact. I shot her a toothy grin and a wink while sticking a pencil through my fluffy ear-flap.

  With a huff, she turned her back to me and stalked over to her pile of goodies. After taking a moment to inspect the box of crystals, she withdrew a pinkie-sized fiery red monster crystal and brought it over to her furnace. Dragging it sharply over the brickwork with a quick, well-practised flick, she flung a wave of fire and sparks over the bed of coals; Instantly igniting it into a healthy burn.

  Her preparation complete, she turned slightly and shot her own smug smirk back at me… One that I readily returned.

  Raising a paw towards my own furnace, I mentally took a pinch of mana from my belly, and let it burn. A softball sized ball of flame immediately burst to life in between my claws a shot out- Splashing against the back wall of the furnace and causing the coals to flare up into a roaring blaze with a whumf.

  With her smile successfully dimmed, and my own growing by quite a few degrees, we both turned to the announcers box when a new, yet familiar booming voice washed over the stadium with an unnatural reverb.

  Some sort of magical amplifier, maybe?

  “I. AM. GANESHA! AND WELCOME, ONE AND ALL, TO A DUAL LIKE NONE OTHER!”

  The god, adorned in his signature elephant mask and half-slung toga waited for the cheers from the already fairly sloshed crowd drunk on cheap ale to die down before continuing. “-A Battle of hammers, steel, and fire- but one of creation, rather than destruction! Challenging Orario’s own hephaestus, a goddess who needs no introduction, is the mysterious newcomer- Maedmux Maddic! As agreed between both parties, the two will have a full eight hours to craft any item or weapon they wish. The product of their toils will then be judged by an impartial panel of crafting gods!”

  He then threw out an arm, pointing to a trio of seated figures at his side that I’d somehow missed. “The honorable gods and goddess Goibniu, Ptah, and- last but certainly not least, Hadúr!-” Each god gave the crowd a small acknowledgement as their name was called. Goibniu, a spry, bare chested old man with sharp eyes and a severe frown only nodded, his eyes boring down on me from on high; Ptah, a darker skinned mediterranean looking man with an easy smile playing on his lips and laugh lines wrinkling his eyes lounged back in his seat. The long, flowing white robe he wore was proudly embroidered with the words “Cat?Lover” in bright pink stitching across the front. All he did was lazily raise a blue and yellow striped scepter in salute towards the crowd; And finally, to the far right of the panel was Hadúr. I… I suppose there are many words I could have used to describe her, but easily the most succinct, if not the most respectful would be Muscle Mommy. Even just sitting there casually with her arms folded across her pure copper breastplate caused her muscles to strain against the confines of her skin. With one leg crossed nonchalantly over the other, I could just about see the masterwork of a blade that sat against her hip. When her name was called, her lips tugged up into a toothy smirk as she pounded a fist onto the heart of her breastplate and thrust it into the air, to a marked increase of cheers from the crowd… As well as more than a few wolf whistles. “-Have come from near and far to graciously donate their time to today's events! They will decide the victor with a vote based upon each contestant's skill, speed, and most importantly- their results! Furthermore!-” With a flourish, he drew every eye in the stadium downwards towards the slowly opening portcullis below the balcony on which he stood. Materializing out of the shadows cast by the tunnel came adventure after adventure. Each one wearing the distinctive maroon sash and featureless white facemasks of the Ganesha familia. Many of whom were pulling carts that carried metal cages of various sizes.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  The purpose of the cages became clear as all manner of Dungeon monsters were dragged into the sunlight for what may have been the very first time in their entire lives; All the while hissing, spitting, and clawing at anything in reach. A ground shaking gasp from the audience quickly grew into roaring cheers as the adventures lined up before Ganesha with their macabre menagerie behind them.

  Honestly though? As far as first impressions go… I gotta’ say I'm pretty disappointed. After a lifetime of fighting off or running from all nature of crazy critters that inhabit Exandria, Max had come to expect more out of creatures deemed anomalous enough to be called monsters.

  From wrestling with Fido, the party’s Blink dog trying to get the little stinker to spit out a bandits ear we needed to turn in for a bounty; To hunting a herd of Yeti for their hides; All the way to hauling fucking ass away from a royally pissed Beholder after poking it in its eye on a dare- Max has a long, long history with messing with shit he really shouldn’t be.

  So seeing that what the locals called monsters looked little different then their mundane counterparts was a letdown to be sure. giant Frogs, big-ol’ lizards, some weird bipedal dog-headed thing, a normal-ass goblin, a rabbit with a horn on its head- The list goes on, and boy oh boy is it a boring one.

  Where's the creativity? The pizzazz? The excitement? There were no car-sized six legged panther/lizard/octopus creatures that could bend light itself on a whim; No floating brains with jellyfish tentacles and a bird beak; No quivering mass of flesh covered in mouths that all cry out with agony in order to trick prey into coming closer-

  I mean, damn. How the hell are we supposed to get our fix of adrenalin, horror, and mental anguish now without creatures like mimics or Mind Flayers lurking about?

  I suppose that there might be more fitting prey deeper down in the Dungeon, but all I could see out today was just the surface-level trash mobs that have been farmed by low level adventures for time immemorial.

  My ruminations on the lack of any cool prey to hunt was cut short by Ganesha continuing on with his speech. “-In celebration of today's festivities, the Ganesha familia is proud to announce our own little tournament! Like our annual monsterphilia writ small-”

  Our monster-what!?

  “My newest familia members will attempt to tame their first monsters before you, my esteemed guests, in a never-before seen look at how the Ganesha familia inducts new Tamers into our ranks! So without further ado, CONTESTANTS! ARE! YOU! READY?!”

  I could see Hephaestus give the toga-clad god a confident nod from out of the corner of my eye as I shot the man a double thumbs up of my own.

  “Then by my authority as Games Master, I proclaim these games… Begun! For I! Am! Ganesha!”

  Amidst the renewed roars from the crowd, Hephaestus darts forward towards her table and starts rifling through the pile. I myself walked towards the table at a leisurely pace, ideas and inventions rushing through my mind. I had originally planned on doing something somewhat basic to a denizen of Exandria, yet nearly impossible for one of the natives to get their hands on- Such as an enchanted ring, or perhaps a spellbound blade.

  In my research of the locals, I discovered that they actually do have their own kind of artificer; Or at least a rough approximation of one. See, in the course of an adventurer's developmental growth, and based upon certain actions taken or achieving some great feat, they may unlock specific Developmental Abilities that they can pick from as they Rank Up to spec’ into. These choices are final, and will greatly influence the progression of their careers, and even their life in general.

  One of these abilities is aptly named Mystery, as no one is quite sure what the requirements are for unlocking it. In fact, it is so hard to unlock that you can count on one hand how many people in Orario currently have it. Those vanishingly rare few who do have it are somehow able to create magical items. The mechanics of how this is accomplished is either not known by the Ability wielders themselves, or if it is known then it is a closely guarded secret. All that the public knows is that those with Mystery are able to, with great effort and in a time consuming process, produce magical artifacts.

  Unlike the ubiquitousness of enchanted items and their role in everyday life that Max is familiar with, these items are treated as artisanal masterpieces that only the ultra-ultra wealthy can even dream of owning. And even then, those pieces are treated as generational heirlooms that are passed down from lord to heir for centuries.

  But the difference between an artificer like myself, and these locals who can only ape at the concept, is that Max understands at the fundamental level what he's doing and how his magic interacts with the world at large. The wielders of Mystery, on the other hand, seemingly have barely any control over their finished product at all, being only able to define in the loosest sense the finished project.

  While they rely on blind faith and divine intervention, artificers stick to cold truth and hard facts.

  With a disdainful snort, I grabbed a few ingots of adamantite and started making my way back to the anvil. Hephaestus was already back at her furnace, furiously working the bellows and driving the roaring flame within to new heights.

  All this introspection on the nature of artificers and falna bearers was just to illustrate one point. That while certainly impressive by the locals' metrics, your run-of-the-mill enchanted item wouldn’t quite be as awe inspiring as Max would want it to be.

  So instead, with all this high-grade raw material to work with, I decided just now to build something Max and I have been without for far too long.

  A Steel Defender.

  Placing one of my ingots on the anvil and stacking the rest on the table beside me. I drew a body hammer and a pair of tongs from my belt. Across from me, I could see Hephaestus watching me with a raised eyebrow as I made no attempt to heat the metal in the furnace. Shooting her a small smirk, I took another pinch of mana from my solar plexus and molded it into a Heat Metal spell; Holding it until the ingot was glowing a blinding white. Satisfied at the warranted look of pure jealousy tinged with awe that colored her expression, I turned away and started taping the edge of the anvil with my hammer to set the .

  Staring down at the glowing bar of infinite possibilities before me, I could see in my minds-eye the finished product. Each blow, each turn, each heat- every last step was just so… Clear to me. The world and its meaningless noise slowly faded from my consciousness; Nothing but a distraction, everything else was irrelevant now.

  The only thing that mattered now was my anvil, my hammer, and my fury.

  Without warning my hammer rose up and fell with the wraith of an angry god. A shower of sparks exploded off the bar and scattered across the sands. Keeping with the rhythm I set, blows rained from above with an inexhaustible- inexorable tempo. A song half remembered, yet undeniably a part of my very being grew into a growled hum deep in my chest; Sung in harmony with the symphony of creation composed by my own two paws.

  With the steady cadence and impassionate rage of a mechanical drop hammer, the bar was flattened, cut into two, and flattened again. The edges of both plates were rolled slightly over the anvil’s horn, until I had two identical, gently-curved armored plates in only a few minutes.

  A good start.

  X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X

  Time ceased to have meaning, minutes blurred into hours without end. Before me, what Max had been desperately missing rose up piece by piece and bolt by bolt.

  Steel was rolled into bars and spot-welded together to form its skeleton. Components such as the hydraulic system and the two differentials were crafted from bronze and monster drops and mounted to the inside of the frame. Mithril was drawn into hundreds of feet of wire to connect all the devices together.

  I had just finished wiring the transmission, with its Blacksteel casing and Minotaur horn gears greased in paraffin oil, to the main power circuit. Giving it a once over to make sure it was mounted correctly, I nodded in satisfaction when the main power-shaft running the length of the skeleton didn’t even shift even when I yanked on it as hard as I could.

  Connected to each end of the power-shaft, a bronze differential sat, providing power to the fore and hind legs actuators. Now, all that was left to install is… The Core. Equal parts energy storage, magical combustion engine, and central computer- Its frame was constructed out of a mithral wire-mesh lattice reinforced with steel plating and separated from the skeleton by an insulating layer of Infant Dragon hide. The Core was designed to be interchangeable, mounted to the skeleton via quick release tension pins and a rotating lug lock so it can be upgraded or replaced in the event of damage later on.

  As for the computer itself? I picked up the fist-sized monster crystal in my paws. Pulled from something called a Ligerfang, if the label on its box was to be believed- Its surface was marred with hundreds of etchings carved into its face. Symbols from several languages curved and curled seamlessly into one another, from the ergonomically sharp lines of Common into the jagged scratches of Abyssal, with a bit of swoopy Gnomish thrown to help bridge some syntax and grammar issues- It wasn’t quite a masterpiece, more like a proof of concept.

  But if it works…

  It would change everything.

  Well, not really. Kinda.

  See, magical automata in Max’s homeland are categorized into three distinct tiers.

  The first were Golems. These would fall closest to what my human-side would call robots. Never sapient, but they can span the difference in complexity from simple automated factory arms all the way to the Golden Scythe Guild’s infamous Taxman machines, which were basically magical Terminators in service to the floating city of Avalir. While limited in both scope and intelligence, Golems were nonetheless still a popular option for those looking for either versatile industrial tools, or disposable shock troops.

  The next tier up were Steel Defenders, the bespoke companions of artificers everywhere. These machines come in all manner of flavors and styles. From bipedal hulking monstrosities to sleek and stylish quadrupeds- The only limiting factor to a Steel Defenders’ design was the imagination and resources of its creator. What separates a Steel Defender from a Golem, however, is the magical tether that binds machine and artificer. Rather than being animated by ambient mana or some sort of internal reservoir, SD’s pull everything they need to function from the ‘donor’. Raw energy, locomotion, even that subtle spark of sapience that some of the more well-loved examples exhibit. It’s all just a reflection of its creator in a mentally sympathetic relationship.

  If the artificer thinks their Steel Defender should waddle, swim, and quack like a duck, then it shall; It won't matter one lick if the SD in question is actually designed to look like a dragon.

  Sorry, Darrington, but Doty isn’t your best friend, it is just a blurry mirror of your own self image. Kinda like ventriloquism, but extra sad, because the ventriloquist truly does think the puppet on his arm is its own person.

  I blew off the remaining dust from my carvings and took the crystal over to the dense nest of mithril wires and gold contact pads. Pressing the crystal into the center of the frame until it locked its place with the satisfying click of a spring latch snapping shut, I picked up the assembled core and slid it into its mount in the skeleton’s ‘chest’ with all the tender care of a pediatric surgeon. Which was a completely unnecessary amount of caution considering I Ragnarok proofed this bitch to hell and back.

  Now, where was I? Ah yes, the final- nay, the penultimate being that falls under the genome of magical automata would be the Aeormaton. If Golems were robots, and Steel Defenders are VI, then these magnificent creatures would be true and blue- fully sapient AI. These beings are no false simulacrum of life either; Some faux intelligence combined with an Empathetic Engine to simulate emotion and empathy. No, they are truly alive in every way, and by every metric that matters.

  Even their very soul, which is also an artificial construct created and bound to their frame through arcane means unknown, is so well crafted, and so close to a natural born’s own in terms of composition and ego- that they can even contract spiritual-based diseases such as lycanthropy.

  Unfortunately, the species is a dying breed in Exandria. The knowledge to create more of the Aeormatons was lost nearly a millennium ago during The Calamity, the war that shattered heaven and earth; Ending The Age Of Arcanum and sending the denizens of Exandria back to the stone ages. Nowadays, the machine race is a shadow of its former self. Barely a scant few hundred individuals are currently known to still be online, haunting the fringes of civilizations like ghosts- desperately seeking out parts and skilled artificers to help keep them maintained and online far past their warranty.

  Some of them have even resorted to cannibalizing their fallen fellows for parts, hoping against all hope to stay operational just a little while longer.

  What I have created here today… Falls into none of the previous categories I just listed.

  I made no attempt to stymie the manic grin I felt slid over my muzzle as I grabbed the main locking lever in my paw. Slamming it home, the whole core rotated ninety degrees, securing it in place and bringing its leads into contact with the main power circuit. Pure, unadulterated vindication flooded my veins when the fur-raising hum of flowing high-voltage electricity filled the air. A loud whine heralded the dual mana condensers located in the shoulder blades buzzing online- sucking in mana-rich air and condensing it down into a liquid to be pumped to the ‘heart’ of the mech. There, an ultrasonic degasser would separate the pure liquid mana, or PLM for short, from the rest of the waste gases still in the mixture; Which would be then vented out the bottom of the frame as exhaust.

  The PLM would then gather in four separate tanks located in the ‘belly’ of the frame. Each one feeding into a collection of tubes surrounding the core. Two of which would be dedicated to cooling. Their tubes made of copper and the PLM ejected out the top of the SD as steam after collecting enough waste heat. The other two were for fuel storage, their lines leading directly to the mana-electric pump that would feed the crystal with fresh mana.

  The crystal- normally a deep lilac which burned with a muted amber light- Exploded with a chest-thumping crack into a brillant toxic blue as soon as the PLM flooded the lines and filled the formerly dormant energy source with fresh fuel.

  It was like looking into the heart of a nuclear reactor and being awashed in the tantalizing glow of Cherenkov radiation.

  Beautiful.

  The whole endo-frame shuddered and twitched like a body being electrified as mana-electric motors whirred to life for the very first time. The main power-axel ground around and around with the accompanying whine of gears sliding across gears as the transmission spun up to speed before dying back down to a growling idle.

  The as-of-yet unadorned mech-frame then grew still. Its chest shining with an eye-watering electric blue, the numerous devices placed all throughout its body humming away merrily in their mounts, but the mech itself was nearly statuesque as it stood at attention; The only movement it was allowed was a slight sway in its limbs- The whining of the oscillating gyroscope in its belly growing in pitch with each wobble.

  Now all that was left to do was mount the armor, and it would be finished.

  I wrapped sheets of flexible dragonhide around joints to protect them from debris, over which adamantite plates the shade of burnt gold were bolted on. The chest was covered in thick, overlapping plates like a suit of laminar armour and a pair of pauldrons backed with yet more dragonhide was mounted on each shoulder blade for further protection. Curved sheets not unlike a motorcycle's wheel cover shielded the hind-legs thigh joint from debris kicked up by the front-legs. Embarrassingly enough, however- I actually ran out of material after covering the withers and rump with two curved domes of armour, and was forced to leave the back-legs basically undefended. Only having enough scraps left over to make two piddly little shin guards.

  On a whim, I took a pair of Ligerfang teeth and welded them to the bottom of the faceplate. Wildly impractical, and I didn’t even know if they had any special properties to them, but the end result looked bitchin’, so they stayed. As I snapped the faceplate onto the skull, both eyes flashed blue from the light reflecting off the core. I could probably fix that with a simple backplate, but the light didn’t seem to be interfering all that much with crystalline light receptors I made for the eyes, sooo… Eh, screw it. It also looked bitchin’, so it can stay too.

  And finally, I wired in the articulating tail. With the tip being a two pronged connector, it could double as either the plug of a mobile generator, or as one mean fucking taser in a pinch.

  Taking a step back to look at my invention in its entirety, only one thought sprung to mind as the late-afternoon sun played along the gentle curves and hard edges of its golden-hued armour.

  Aw, hell ya’.

  In homage to the creature that oh-so-generously donated its crystal, and life, to its creation- I decided to model the hybrid SD after a large feline. Its angular head gave way to the hammered plate armor guarding its chest and wrapping down and around its front all the way to the belly; Designed to bounce projectiles and deflect blows away from the core. In direct contrast, the armor lining its back was all smooth lines and angled contours in order to retain an aerodynamic profile at high speeds. Its legs all ended in four-toed textured pads, inside of which rested an equal number of curved adamantite daggers- Ready to be unsheathed at a moments notice to give this kitty some claws.

  From its eyes and down the length of its back where the armor panels met, the same electric blue from the core bled through. Giving the animalistic mech a bit of a more modern flare that my human side was really digging.

  It- it was just so peak.

  Wiping away an errant tear from my eye, I growled out a command to the mech in Max’s harsh, animalistic mother tongue.

  “‘Begin diagnostics and initiate startup procedure!’”

  To anyone not familiar with the language, Gnollish sounds like nothing but meaningless yips, barks, growls, and snarls. So I would imagine that my audience was pretty surprised when, after just growling at my machine for a few seconds, the thing jerked to life and started firing off a bunch of high-pitched beeping sounds.

  After rattling off a series of condensed reports in morse code that could be summed up as ‘condition green across the board.’, the mech took a single faltering step forward. Each movement was jerky, robotic even as the machine stiffly plodded along.

  But that was not to last.

  For as each step bled into the next, they got smoother, more graceful- and dare I say it, more cat-like. Soon enough it was bounding along in a circle around me, kicking up sand as it full-tilt sprinted past like it had suddenly come down with a bad case of the zoomies.

  As its movements grew more and more refined with each passing second, I felt a maniacal laugh bubble up from deep within my belly.

  IT LIVES!

  The only things missing from this scene was a stained lab coat draped over my frame and some lightning flashing sinisterly in the background as I cackled my jubilation to the heavens!

  Note to self, make a lab coat and a lighting generator ASAP.

  If I was back in Exandria, then this would be a day long remembered! For the newest innovation, and the first big step in automata technology made in centuries has been taken at this very moment.

  For the machine currently bobbing and weaving through imaginary obstacles before me was no mere Steel Defender.

  As I said before, SDs pull everything that makes them tick from their creator, which is why artificers can only realistically maintain one of the machines at a time. Too many SD’s running at once can take too much from the donor. Which can lead to chronic mana depletion, headaches, nose bleeds, aneurysms, spontaneous combustion- You get the idea.

  But my little saber-toothed tiger here isn't pulling those resources from me- It's getting everything it needs from the crystal instead!

  Imprinted into the monster stone itself was all the data needed to puppet a Ligerfang along, all I had to do was tap into that intrinsic information via enchantments and feed it to the control scheme and voilà! Instant Magical Neural Net processor!

  Now the only data I have to provide via soul tether is my language processing, FFI, and mental commands. Still a bit limiting, but with most of the mental load being handled by the core, I could theoretically have multiple SD’s running around without too much of a strain. I’d have to test it to see where the hard limit lies, but if my theory is sound, then I have successfully broken the hard limit on how many mech frames an artificer can command at once!

  And if I ever find a way to offload that data onto some sort of external server and have the machines operating off of that in a network?

  Then I could build my very own magical Skynet, and have as many SD’s running at once as I want.

  Though, hopefully without all the convoluted time travel plots and genocidal robots.

  Suddenly noticing a suspicious lack of sound from around me, I looked up to the previously rowdy crowd who had been ‘oohing and awing’ at whatever the monster tamers had been doing just staring at my mech running laps in complete and utter silence.

  Thoroughly unnerved, I shot a glance over at Hephaestus only to see her also starring in open mouthed shock, frozen in the middle of fitting a handle over the tang of what I could already tell was going to be a masterwork of a double-edged broadsword.

  Both of us were jarred back to reality when Ganesha’s voice once again boomed out over the stadium. “I! Am! Ganesha!- Speaking now to announce that we are down to the final fifteen minutes! Hephaestus is putting the finishing touches on her piece, and amazingly- Maedmux seems to already be done with… whatever it is that he made! Our judges will go down to the field shortly to test our competitors' creations, and then they will reconvene to discuss their findings. In the meantime, let us give a big round of applause to the Ganesha Familia’s newest Tamers!-”

  Tuning out the rest of his words, I called the nameless SD over with a short bark.

  I… I know that it was just a mindless machine mimicking an animal’s behavior, and that it didn’t actually have any higher brain function- But by Yeenoghu’s boundless chest floof was it hard not to anthropomorphize the little stinker as I watched bounce over to me all excited like.

  Sliding the last few feet on its haunches in its rush to answer my call, the mech stared up at me with those big, soulful blue eyes; Its head tilted slightly as its tail lashed back and forth eagerly behind it.

  Feeling my resolve crumbling in real time as I was instantly smitten with the little fella, I couldn’t help the corners of my lips upturning in fondness.

  Perhaps… I may have been a tad too harsh in criticizing Darrington and Doty’s relationship.

  Hmmm, now what to name you?

  Taking in the SD’s feline form with a critical eye, I couldn’t help but be drawn to the electric blue lights reflecting off its armored plates.

  So I have electricity, and I have cats to work with. If only there was a way to somehow combine those two concepts into a-!

  Openly smirking down at the mech still staring innocently up at me; Enthusiastically waiting on my next command, I started growling in Gnollish once again. “‘Unit, assign designation XM-Oh Oh One, callsign ‘’. Repeat last command.’”

  A burst morse code that sounded like someone hooked up a taser to a dial-up modem confirmed the renaming of the machine. It would now be forever known as Experimental Mech Zero-Zero-One, or Snarf for short.

  With only a few minutes left on the clock, I decided to check Snarf over for any defects or stress fractures caused by his little jaunt around (there were none, obviously). My musings on whether or not painting some flame-decals on his side would be too garish were cut short by the sound of approaching footsteps.

  Ganesha and the judges, along with a clique of the Elephant god’s men, walked up to the edge of our workstations. While the three crafting gods did shoot the occasional glance towards Hephaestus as she hurriedly hammered the decorative pommel, which depicted some sort of bird, onto her sword- The vast majority of their attention was focused solely on the mech sitting patiently at my feet.

  Mere seconds before Ganesha called the time, she threw down her completed sword onto her anvil and wiped away the sheen of sweat from her forehead with a relieved sigh.

  Over their shoulders, I could see Ganesha’s men setting up all sorts of strange things in the background. Two of them were stringing up some thick hemp mooring lines on a rack, while a few others are hanging goblin carcasses from a pole?

  Wait a minute… Are they setting up a Forged In Fire-esque testing range? Excitement burst to life in my chest when I saw that yes, they absolutely were setting up a testing range as they started lining up cloth mannequins wearing plate mail in neat rows of five.

  Ohhhhh this is gonna’ be so much fun!

  “...-Max!”

  What?

  Zoning back into whatever it was that they were blabbering on about, I realized to my chagrin that all five of the gods before me were staring expectantly.

  “Sorry, did you say something?”

  With just a tiny twitch of knowing amusement on his lips, Ganesha repeated himself. “We were asking you if, as the challenger, would like to demonstrate your creation?”

  “Doesn’t matter to me.” I said with a shrug, I myself curious to see what a goddess of crafting could pump out in a day's work using only a mortal’s level of skill and strength.

  “Then if it is all the same to you Max, I would prefer to go first.” Hephaestus interjected, her sword already in her hands. With a nod and an ‘after you’ gesture with my paw, the goddess stepped forward and presented her blade to the judges hilt-first with a flourish. “Then, may I present to you The Hiera Phoinix.”

  A fitting name, as the blade shone like liquid fire in the afternoon sun. Its pommel depicted a phoenix mid-cry, wrought in exquisite detail. The hilt of the blade was wrapped in an intricate weave of lacquered monster-hide, and the crossguard was fashioned like a pair of wings raised as if they were about to take flight. The blade itself was a classic double-edged bastard sword made of pure adamantite; Long enough to be comfortably wielded with one or two hands.

  Eh, pretty good, but nothing extraordinary. I’d give it a solid Purple rating if I found that in a pile of loot while raiding a dungeon.

  Goibniu accepted the blade with all due care while the other two crowded around to admire the weapon. Carefully running their fingers along its razor sharp edge, testing its balance, and giving it a few experimental swings of their own before they handed it off to one of Ganesha’s men.

  The tester then began to put the blade through its paces, where it performed pretty much exactly how I expected it to; Which is to say flawlessly.

  The blade flowed through the lines of naval-grade ropes with zero resistance, logs of wood were sliced cleanly in half with a single stroke, and- easily the most astounding feat, the blade bisected the goblin so quickly and so easily, that the tester had already brought the weapon back to a high ready by the time the two halves of dead monster began to separate.

  Now that was some anime level- ‘You are dead, for I have already cut you’ type shit.

  Thoroughly impressed… If not astounded by her creation, we all clapped politely as the tester returned the sword to Hephaestus.

  And then, they all turned to me.

  “If you would be so kind as to explain what your… creation is, how it works, and what it can do, Mister Maddic?”

  Feeling my previously polite smile turn toothy, I slapped a paw down on my mech's head. “This here, is Snarf. And he is an experimental personal defense mech based upon a heavily modified Steel Defender warframe. How he works-” Quickly bending down and popping off the armor from his withers to give them a peak at the internals, I continued. “-Is through a complex combination of a standard Automata-Organic Soul Tether Mainframe, and an onboard neural net processor that uses a monster crystal as a hybrid CPU, data storage, and power generator. As this is just a prototype, I opted to go with a lower level monster stone for safety reasons- But for successive iterations I plan to gradually increase the strength of the crystal’s donor, in order to test the correlation in crystal size to computation power and energy output. While I have not been able to test this frame's exact specs’ yet, I’m anticipating a marked increase in overall performance well above and beyond a baseline Steel Defender thanks to the processing power afforded by the Lingerfang crystal. Furthermore-” I went on to describe how fuel was gathered, purified, and used to maintain the crystals inherent power supply; To then explain in detail how magical energy was converted to mechanical energy for powering the legs.

  I looked up from my impromptu lecture on the finer points of automata limp actuators to be met with four mystified expressions plastard on the faces of the crafting gods. Ganesha himself seemed to have fully given up on parsing out anything I was saying, and was happy to simply watch the proceedings with crossed arms and a patient smile. Goibniu was just scratching his beard, staring down into the guts of Snarf like they held the answers to the universe, but he couldn’t understand the language. Hadúr had one hand on her hip, and the other on the pommel of her sword as her eyes trailed along the edges of the mech’s armor with an appreciative eye; But by far the most dramatic reaction was from Ptah.

  He was currently bent over with his hands on his knees, with his face pressed up as close as he could get to Snarf’s steel endo-skeleton; Muttering to himself all the while. Suddenly, he turned to me with one of the most serious expressions I have ever seen in both our lives. His brow was furrowed in thought, or perhaps consternation as he addressed me. “Mister Maddic… Did you- Is this an artificial monster that you have created?”

  We all started at that, and I made to correct him- but paused to consider, because he was kinda correct? It wasn’t a true Steel Defender, and it certainly wasn’t a golem. It could be the rough foundation towards a sort-of pseudo, primitive Aeormaton. Based upon animals rather than sapient beings.

  But the rub of it was, eighty- maybe even ninety percent of all its higher function did come from the crystalized ‘soul’ of a monster so… “Technically no, but also yes? If by ‘artificial monster’ you mean ‘a machine that's intelligence comes from the lobotomised brain of a monster’ then yes, Snarf here would technically be an artificial monster.”

  Ptah blinked at me in stunned silence, before throwing his head back and laughing uproariously. “Oh, that's rich! A mechanical monster! I haven’t seen anything crazy like that since the days of Daedalus! I hate to say it, Hephaestus, but I think I know whos got my vote!”

  “Don’t be too hasty, ya’ beach bum.” Hadúr grunted, though she herself was fighting a smile at her fellow judge’s good cheer. “We haven’t even seen what it can do yet.”

  With a grin of my own, I replaced the armor panel and looked to the testing range. “Snarf!” In an instant the machine was on its feet and at my side, practically vibrating with excitement as it waited for the command it knew in its artificial heart was coming next. “‘Hunt’!"

  Like a shot the warframe was off- faster than well-lubricated lighting, charging at the lines of rope with the graceful loping gait of a lioness on the hunt. In fact, it was going way faster than a SD of its size should be able to move. I’d need to set up a testing site to be sure, but just eye-balling it, I’d say that was easily zero to sixty in four seconds flat.

  Just before the mech reached the ropes, a shower of sparks firing out from its paws heralded the razor sharp claws spring out of their sheaves. With a single, powerful swipe the ropes were slashed in half. Not missing a beat, Snarf twisted on his paws and barreled towards the rows of armored mannequins. A flying leap took him soaring across the sands to crash down hard on the nearest one, crushing the steel plate it wore under Snarf’s weight like a soda can. From there, the mech proceeded to dismantle the remaining targets with sadistic precision. Tendons were slashed, jugulars ripped out, joints crushed- until only one remained. Snarf darted in, before feinting back, miming dodging a desperate attack before pouncing; But instead of using its claws again, the machine had something special in mind. Twisting around like a striking cobra, Snarf’s pronged tail speared itself deep into the padded cloth of the mannequin’s skin. In a heartbeat a sound not unlike an arcing high-voltage powerline filled the air. The cloth dummy immediately burst into flames as arcs of white-hot electricity flew off the plate-mail like the world's most dangerous plasma-globe, grounding themselves into the surrounding sand .

  With a dismissive flick of his tail, the smoldering dummy was thrown to the floor as Snarf turned his attention to the final challenge. As opposed to the others, Snarf did not sprint at the dead goblins, but instead opted to stalk forward towards its prey. The feline grace Snarf inherited from the Lingerfang was in full display as it swayed with a huntress's easy step; Head low, and shoulders high.

  When he reached the goblins, Snarf took one in his jaws with a deceptive gentleness, before rearing back and pointing his muzzle to the sky. Already knowing what he had planned, I wasn’t surprised when the unmistakable whine of charging capacitors reached my ears. A split second later the goblin was fucking vaporized in a chest-thumping explosion; Nothing was left but tiny bits and pieces that began to rain from the sky from the Force-Empowered Rend Snarf just fired point blank into the corpse held tightly with his fangs.

  Looking pleased as punch, Snarf pranced back to my side, his head held high and tail lashing back and forth as he plopped his metal butt down in front of me; His big blue eyes practically begging for scritches and affirmation as he stared up at me.

  Obliging the little guy, I dropped a paw down on his head and gave it a rub. I hadn’t installed any touch sensors into him, so I don’t know exactly what he was getting out of this, but he seemed to appreciate the gesture regardless as he leaned into my touch with a mechanical growl that sounded suspiciously like a purr.

  Shoving that to the back of my mind for later analysis, I turned to the five wide-eyed gods with a smirk.

  “So, how’d I do?”

  X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X

  Author Notes:

  And! Scene~

  Pfew, not gonna lie, sports fans, but this one took a lot out of me. This is the first real challenge Max has faced, so I hope I've written a satisfying conclusion to it!

  To answer anyone questioning how a literal crafting god could possibly lose in a crafting competition against a schlub like Max, I based Heppies skill on what was showcased in canon. Yes, while she is a smith without equal, even amongst her empowered familia of Demi-gods; She still has to contend with the fact that she now wears a shell of mortal flesh, which will greatly slow her down and limit what she can do. The most advanced weapon we know of in canon is the Hestia Knife, which is a semi-sentient blade wielded by the protag. It cost 200 mil valis to purchase, and took her 3 whole days to make.

  If Hephaestus had more time to work with, she absolutely could have produced something that would have blown away anything Max can currently make, but with only 1 full working day, a masterwork blade was the only thing I could realistically imagine someone being able to make under those conditions.

  DnD artificers, on the other hand, can make a SD in eight hours using apparently nothing but rocks, sticks, and some gum Roger from American dad style.

  For my own AU take on it, that wouldn’t be possible. The materials to make a SD would have to come from somewhere. Though I kept the timeframe intact just because I think it's badass to be able to make a fully operational mechanical buddy in one standard business day.

  And as for why the stadium was packed? Well, you gotta ask yourself, what the hell else would people be doing for entertainment back in Ye’ olden times? The Romans were so starved for entertainment, that they invented a special arrowhead just to make decapitating ostriches easier so crowds of people could watch em run around headless for a while. Entertainment in Orario is similar, and basically boils down to three things- The occasional street performers plying their trade, playing chicken with STD’s in the Red Light district, or making a day of whatever event is being thrown together in the colosseum. Doesn’t matter one lick what's happening in the colosseum, just that as long as something is happening there, there's gonna be a crowd to sit and gawk at it; Because, what the hell else are you going to be doing?

  Ganesha, the people savvy entertainer he is, knew that watching someone hit metal with hammers for eight hours probably wouldn’t be all that engaging, so he decided to throw in the always popular “whipping monsters into compliance” as a sideshow to keep people amused.

  Sure, there were more than a few people who were there to actually take the incredibly rare chance to watch what they thought to be someone with the Mystery ability ply their trade, or otherwise watch Orario’s newest drama king make a fool of himself in real time, but most were just people who followed the crowd in.

  As always, thank you a ton for reading, and please feel free to chime in with any criticisms or critiques, I’m always looking to grow as a writer.

  Next time, On Hyena Werks-

  Max does some spring cleaning!