William had a feeling that Olzenya's agreement had less to do with any real agreement with Bonnlyn and more because she wanted an opportunity to express her own dissatisfaction with the kit they'd been 'provided' by the academy.
With the cost of said equipment – much like everything else they were given – being added to their service debt.
"Mine's a little tight around the shoulders too," Verity said quietly, still not quite recovered from the veritable tongue lashing she'd received in Harlen's class. "I think it was built for a… tall elf. Not an orc."
"Possible," William admitted as he took in her suit.
Glancing around, he doubted any of the other houses were dealing with this. Most of the other houses had custom suits they'd brought with them from home. They all looked perfectly at ease in their equipment.
By contrast, Verity looked deeply uncomfortable in hers.
Perhaps she's not used to being so constrained? He thought. Or having so many layers on?
Which didn't bode well, given that the kit they were wearing still lacked the myriad funnels and thrusters that actually made a maneuver-suit into a maneuver-suit.
They would come in time, but for this first lesson at least, the Instructor had said she wanted to focus entirely on 'conventional' dueling to get an idea for everyone's form.
Not a terrible idea in his mind, if a little shortsighted.
After all, in what situation would any of them ever be expected to fight in a maneuver-suit without thrusters attached?
"Cadets Halfhelm and… Verity," the Instructor had clearly paused because Verity lacked a last name for her to use. "To the arena."
The orc squeaked a little, but did as she was told, dragging her massive warhammer behind her as she went. The thing had stuffed fabric applied to both ends to try and 'blunt' the blows it gave out, but William still pitied whoever ended up on the other end of the thing.
Especially when someone of Verity's size was the one holding it.
Well, I suppose the Academy has healers on-hand for a reason, he thought as he glanced over at the medley of white-robed women – and one man – standing at the end of the hall.
Sure, the academy did generally try to avoid injuries in a practice duel, they being able to fix shattered bones and ruptured organs with ease certainly allowed them a lot more freedom with their training methods than similar institutions would have been back home.
Though there's not much they'll be able to do if Verity accidentally shatters someone's skull with that oversized melon-masher, he thought cynically as the two cadets squared off against one another.
Shaking his head, he turned back to Bonnlyn. "You could take it back to the quartermaster, and they might adjust it for you, but they'd probably charge you for it."
At an inflated price too, given that the academy held a total monopoly on the cadet's movements for the next month at least. Which was far too long to be running around with defective equipment.
The dwarf frowned, likely having similar thoughts.
"Or, I could adjust it for you," he said.
"You?"
"Don't act so surprised." He laughed. "As you seem so keen to remind me, I am a guy. I was taught how to darn clothes."
"It's a piece of armour, not a dress shirt," Marline grumped.
He laughed. "True, but my education was a bit more broad than most."
Much to many of his more hidebound tutor's dismay, he had a tendency to learn what he wanted to learn, with or without their help. While he wouldn't say he'd ever traded sexual favours for lessons, he'd certainly implied it on occasion.
Quartermasters. Accountants. Blacksmiths. Guards. Leatherworkers.
He'd had a busy youth. Because as handy as memories of a past life were, they weren't the be all and end all. To even reach the point where he could utilize some higher technologies, certain gaps had needed to be filled.
"With that said," he continued. "I'd expect payment."
For once, there wasn't a hint of flirtation or lust in Bonnlyn's gaze as she regarded him. She was from a family of merchants after all.
"Assuming you can actually do as you say," she spoke evenly.
Fortunately, he wasn't out to actually haggle. Otherwise he had a feeling she'd run rings around him. Bartering was a skill he'd tried to pick up for sure, but it just… didn't come naturally to him.
"I do this for you, to your satisfaction," he spoke slowly. "In return, you teach Olzenya here to wash and dry her clothes. Properly."
It was rather amusing, the look of indignation that passed over both girl's faces at his words.
"I- I don't need this charlatan's help!" Olzenya – naturally – responded first. "As beneath me as it is, I can hardly see any difficulty in learning how to apply water to fabric."
He eyed her skeptically.
"I can!" she hissed.
His gaze turned out toward the arena, where the cadet from House Crowdown was almost disdainfully poking at Verity's defenses, the human's form a blue blur of practiced motions that spoke of long years of practice with her saber.
By contrast, Verity's movements were quick but unpolished. More instinct than experience.
"Blood stains." He said. "A duel's gone wrong and we have a morning kit inspection tomorrow. It's also winter. If you dunk your clothes in the vats, there's no way they'll be clean by tomorrow. And we'll suffer demerits because of it."
Olzenya moved to speak before her mouth slammed shut. He could see her trying to think through the problem.
"I could use a water based contract to-"
"Blood's more than just water," Marline grunted. "You'd just end up with a dried brown stain rather than a red one."
That… surprised him. Not what the dark elf had said, but that she'd known to say it.
"Surprisingly knowledgeable for a noblewoman," he noted.
The dark elf scowled. "You weren't the only one whose upbringing was slightly less than conventional, armour boy."
William hummed, acknowledging the point. Though he was slightly irritated that he wouldn't be able to hang teaching the dark elf how to keep her clothes clean over her head in return for a favor.
I suppose I'll just have to settle for the high-elf, he thought.
"I'd also note that if you've been in a duel, there's every chance you've expended your contracts," he pointed out. "Not every duel we have is going to be magic-free."
Hell, most wouldn't be.
The blonde mulled it over for a few more moments, before sagging. "Fine. As cherry-picked as your hypothetical is, I acknowledge that… kit maintenance may be less simple than I thought."
A little snarky, but still a more graceful admission than he'd been expecting.
"Bonnlyn?" he said, turning to the dwarf.
"Two parts water to one part vinegar." Her response was instant. "Vinegar we could source from the kitchens, legitimately or by bribing a late night servant. Then it's just a matter of dabbing, not scrubbing the fabric, re-applying our mixture as needed until the stain is gone."
If anything, Olzenya sagged deeper at her rival's show of competence. He half expected her to throw out a snarky line about the girl knowing such 'manly knowledge' but the high-elf didn't do that.
"Fine," she huffed. "I'll take lessons from… Bonnlyn."
He grinned.
Then went for the kill.
"Good, and in return for Bonnlyn helping you in return for me helping her, I expect you to teach Verity how to meditate."
All the girls gazes snapped to him.
"And what do you get out of that?" Bonnlyn asked – almost suspiciously. "Because I'm almost beginning to think you're sweet on her."
He laughed. "Hardly."
Glancing over their shoulders, he was a little surprised to see that Verity actually had the upper hand. At some point she seemed to have figured out her opponent's patterns, and was now almost casually moving to corner the human.
He could almost see the moment the blue-clad cadet got desperate.
And said something.
Something not all too pleasant given the way the orc recoiled.
For about a second. Then the hammer lashed out.
All conversation cut out across the audience, as an aborted gurgle was punctuated by the sound of teeth clattering to the stone floor.
"F-fight over," the Instructor yelled, rushing forward. "Cadet Verity victory." Kneeling over the human cadet, she tsked. "Healers!"
Casually Verity stepped back as both the healers and Instructor moved to tend to her downed and moaning opponent. After a moment of puzzled contemplation, she raised her hammer, regarding the damp bloodstain on its fabric surface. Slowly, she reached up to pluck out an errant tooth that had embedded itself there.
The entire room was silent but for the sound of the down cadet and the activation chants of the healers. Even the other duelists in the distant arenas had ceased their fights to see what commotion was.
And yet Verity still just looked… puzzled.
It was actually kind of terrifying.
Right up until she glanced up to see all the eyes on her and almost jumped out of her skin, hunching in on herself, before glancing towards her team, her eyes wide in almost desperate plea for help.
"I, uh." William swallowed nervously. "Was actually hoping she'd teach me how to speak orcish."
He watched as a stretcher was brought out and the downed and mewling cadet was rolled onto it.
"Now," he continued. "Now I'm thinking that I'd like her to teach me how to do that."
Assuming that could even be taught. If it couldn't… well, he'd settle for learning how to avoid having it happen to him.
That seemed a fair trade for a few breathing exercises and tips on how to lucid dream.
Right?
"O-ok," Bonnlyn breathed, trying and failing to keep her voice calm as the orc started walking back over to them. "You're insane though, you know that right?"
He paused. "Insane. What do you mean?"
He didn't know why he was whispering. Or why Olzenya also chose to whisper as she leaned over to him.
"Because you're going to 'pay' that madwoman for the opportunity to step into the arena with her." She inclined her toward where said madwoman's last practice partner was being carried off. "After she did that."
Oh.
Oh…
Shit.