Monroe
Chapter Two Hundred and Seventeen. A display of Skill.

The L.A. convention center was packed. Elli hadn't ever seen that many people in one place before, let alone under one roof. There were stands inside the building, each advertising a particular school of martial arts, proudly proclaiming their skills.

That wasn't too surprising, but what did come as a shock was watching children sparring, mostly bare-fisted or with protective gloves. He was the only person he'd ever met whose parents started his path so young, but here it seemed commonplace. The schools' advertising made a great deal of sense, as they were clearly competing for students, and from what the pamphlets he'd read indicated, it was a lucrative business.

Carol-Ann was following along, not showing any real interest in the spars, while Harv was eyeing a pair of girls who were using staves with interest. Elli liked to think that over time, he'd worn away Harv's reluctance to take a swing at a monster with his stick, and he knew that he'd impressed on his friend the importance of actual skill. They settled down on a set of stepped stairs that Carol-Ann called 'bleachers' as the matches pitting swordsmen against each other began.

He was a little disappointed when it became clear that they were starting with the children, although it did warm his heart to watch how serious the kids took the tournament. They weren't playing, but rather they were carefully following the forms they'd been taught. His aunt would be ecstatic to see so many little ones learning swordsmanship.

After an hour of what Elli could only describe as adorable violence, the bouts turned to older kids, even young teens. Although none of them had any real degree of mastery, they were a much better exemplar of the skills their schools taught. Still, the girl who took the award for her age group showed excellent attention to her footwork. She'd be one to watch if she continued on a melee path.

"You really like this stuff, don't you?" Carol-Ann asked.

"I do," Elli agreed, turning to face her. The next series of matches wouldn't start for a few more minutes. "My family is known as being masters of the sword, and I began learning when I was only five years old, which might be normal here, but isn't back home."

"So you're probably really good then," Carol-Ann mused, "how do you think you'd stack up against these students?"

Harv chuckled beside her. "Of the people we've seen so far, Elli would clear the floor of the lot of them. All at once."

"I don't know," Elli replied, "we've only seen students so far, and I'd like to see their adepts or even their masters."

"I don't think they really have those sort of ranks," Carol-Ann said as she looked down at her pamphlet, "but it says they'll have some of the instructors performing an exhibition match."

"That ought to give me a measure of their skills," Elli nodded approvingly, "although I wonder if it might be possible to participate, assuming they aren't beyond me."

Harv shook his head. "That wouldn't really be fair," he scolded, "your attributes would overwhelm them."

"True," Elli replied with a sigh. It would be nice to have someone to spar against. No one in Holmstead or Glacier Valley was skilled in melee combat beyond what the System granted. He blamed Bob for putting together paths that emphasized magic.

"You might be able to take a lesson or two, though," Carol-Ann suggested. "You've got the money, and we have a few days. If any of the instructors look like they have something to teach, you can note their schools and approach them afterward."

Elli smiled and reached out to clasp her shoulder. "That's a great idea, thank you."

The older teenagers began their matches, and it was quickly obvious that some of them were only here because they'd been ordered to appear, while others were just having fun, and finally, the few who had truly invested their time on the path towards mastering the blade. He was surprised when one of the youngest competitors took the award, eking out a victory by dint of sheer competence against a larger, faster, and stronger opponent.

"Some of these children have real potential," Elli murmured across Carol-Ann to Harv.

Harv nodded his agreement while Carol-Ann looked at both of them askance. "They're a little young to be fighting monsters," she said quietly.

Elli shook his head. "Everyone is a little different, but back home, I was fighting when I was twelve. I wasn't allowed to level up, but from twelve to fourteen, I was taken from Dungeon to Dungeon, where I delved the first floor of each, facing off against different monsters."

She looked first shocked and then horrified. "That's child endangerment!" She hissed.

"Well, yes?" Elli replied hesitantly. "They made sure I had potions, and one of my tasks was to collect materials for them," he said slowly, "I wasn't in as much danger as most at level zero would have been, as I'd already received years of instruction in swordsmanship, as well as a thorough grounding in the dangers of delving a Dungeon." Sᴇaʀch* Thᴇ NʘvᴇlFire.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

"Not as good as Bob's six rules, though," Harv grinned.

"No," Elli admitted, "Bob's method of teaching freshers how to delve is a lot different, but I can't deny it's effective."

Carol-Ann shook her head. "Your family threw you into a Dungeon, forced you to fight deadly monsters when you were twelve," she growled, "that's child abuse."

"No one forced me," Elli grinned, "I begged them to let me start delving. They wouldn't let me level up, but I argued that I could still learn, as well as gather mana crystals."

"I think this is what Bob called a 'Cultural Difference,'" Harv suggested.

Carol-Ann didn't look particularly mollified, but Elli's attention was drawn back to the new match beginning. These were young adults, and each one carried themselves with a grace that spoke to years of training.

He was in heaven.

Each match showcased different styles, with each competitor a serious student of their discipline. There was one particular style that seemed to focus on a strike as their swords were drawn, the draw and the attack one seamless technique. He'd seen his aunt perform something similar, although the speeds at which she practices often precluded any careful study of her movements. These people, despite being quite quick, weren't so fast that he couldn't take in the details.

After half an hour, it became clear to him that some of these styles weren't meant for actual combat. He'd picked up on which schools taught combat techniques, and he focused his attention on those matches. All too soon, the matches ended, the award for that age group going to a tall and broad-shouldered young man who had demonstrated that proper footwork didn't mean dancing around. He'd shown true economy of movement, never moving his feet unless it would provide an advantage. His attacks had been simple as well, although brutally effective, again with no wasted motion.

"I wouldn't mind having that one at my back on a delve," he commented to Harv, who grunted his agreement. His old friend had an eye for competence as well.

Carol-Ann looked between the two of them, then shrugged. Elli could tell that she was more than a little bored with the matches, but she'd volunteered for the experience, and maybe she'd learned something.

It was finally time for the instructors to demonstrate their skills, and Elli was on the edge of his seat. The first demonstration put a short slender man who wielded a shorter blade in one hand and, oddly, the scabbard for it in the other, against a tall blocky man who wielded a longer blade with two hands.

He was astonished at the speed at which the pair moved. They'd began the match with a series of clearly tentative or maybe demonstrative strikes but quickly increased the pace of their blows and parries. In his educated opinion, he would have said they were each around level ten or so, with their points evenly split amongst strength, coordination, and endurance, with the shorter man having a slightly greater focus on coordination, while the taller of the two favored strength.

Elli couldn't believe the speed, strength, and skill these two old men were demonstrating. While the shorter of the two was a blur, attacking from every angle in a flurry of blows that sought to overwhelm, the taller of the two moved like water, flowing liquidy from stance to stance, his long blade always angled to deflect an attack or slicing out to deliver a strike of his own. At the same time, each step put him just out of reach of an incoming attack that his blade wasn't able to address.

To be fair, he'd trounce either of them. Possibly even both of them, but he had the advantage of actual levels. If he was level zero, even with all his skills and training, he didn't think he'd be able to best either.

The match ended in a draw, neither being able to land a telling blow, although both had scored two strikes each. Elli made sure to note at which two schools those two taught.

It was starting to look like this trip might not be as boring as he'd thought it would be.

Carol-Ann blushed furiously.

She hadn't expected to see her roommate at the convention.

"I am not cheating on Fred!" she hissed.

"Girl, I'm not throwing any shade, those two are gorgeous," Lisa grinned wickedly as she blatantly ran her eyes up and down Elli and then Harv. "Maybe a little older than I'd like, but as fit as they are, I'd find a way suffer through it."

Carol-Ann grimaced. She'd been best friends with Lisa for a decade, and she'd long ago accepted that her friend was prettier than she was, as well as being more outgoing and self-confident. She'd been with Fred long enough to feel confident in his feelings for her, and hers for him.

"So, where are we staying tonight?" Harv walked up to her, smiling at Lisa.

"The Holiday Inn next door," she replied with a sigh.

"It has been a long day," Elli observed as he joined them, having ducked away to make sure he had the right numbers for the schools he was interested in. "I could use some rest."

Carol-Ann shook her head as Lisa gave her an enthusiastic thumbs up and an exaggerated wink. "Let's get you checked in," she grumbled, "I've got to get home quickly, or Lisa will start getting even wilder ideas."

Checking Harv and Elli into the Holiday Inn was simple enough, although the desk clerk looked at her askance. Or maybe he was looking at Harv and Elli. Either way, she got them to the room and settled in for the night, extracting a promise from them that they wouldn't wander out of the room.

They seemed amused at her request but amiable enough, which left her to contemplate the turn her life had taken on the ride back to her apartment.

Fred had managed to finagle two weeks vacation, which had started three days earlier, and he was pressing her pretty hard about choosing skills and a path so she could join him. He was beating things up on the first floor of the Dungeon, waiting for her.

She'd been raised Catholic, although she hadn't been practicing since she was a teenager, and while she definitely preferred the idea of being a healer, she had just enough vestigial faith to find the idea of praying to a pagan god to be discomforting.

Harv had expounded on the value of a healer to an adventuring group, how they made any group lucky enough to have one much more likely to not only survive but thrive. Carol-Ann felt like she was fighting the inevitable. She was a nurse, and she loved her job, although she'd love it even more if she could actually heal the people who were entrusted into her care.

Fighting monsters, real monsters, real fighting, wasn't something she was feeling particularly enthusiastic about, but she could see how things were going to play out. She wasn't willing to be left behind, and that meant she'd end up in a Dungeon eventually, and if she was going to be playing a deadly version of D&D, her role was going to be the healer.

Her mind was running in circles, and she made it home on autopilot. Arriving at the apartment, she breathed a sigh of relief when she realized Lisa wasn't home yet. She didn't want to deal with the inquisition right now.

"So, we've got the booth?" Amanda asked excitedly.

"We do," Dave confirmed with a wide smile. "We're on the main floor, PeachTree."

Dave caught her in a hug, spinning her around.

"DragonCon!" Amanda whispered in his ear.

"It's not a huge space," he warned as he pulled her down onto the couch beside him.

"We just need enough room for a portal," Amanda giggled.

Dave nodded. He'd been surprised that he was able to get a booth at all on such short notice. DragonCon was only three and a half months away, and space was always at a premium.

The plan they'd come up with was to draw people in by demonstrating some basic magic. Mana would be a concern, but it turned out there were mana potions, they just tasted awful, and you couldn't drink one after another. Also, it looked like they'd end up having something around two hundred and fifty to three hundred mana at level twenty-five, assuming their equipment was fully enchanted, which meant they'd have quite a bit to work with.

It also explained how Bob had been able to toss around spells when he'd shown up at the gaming table all those months ago.

Once they'd set the hook, they'd show off some bags of holding and then make people an offer they wouldn't refuse.

They'd have plenty of people to staff the booth, and Vera was busy writing up the guidelines for what was and what wasn't acceptably demonstrative magic. She'd pointed out that there were more than a few people who wouldn't think twice about throwing around a fireball or a lightning bolt if they weren't strictly forbidden from doing so. Then there were the people who would do that anyway. They planned to weed those out.

"It'll be the big bang for us," Dave agreed.

"Critical mass of gamer geeks," Amanda snuggled into his side, her freezing cold toes seeking out the warmth of his legs.

"Should we get Bob involved?" She asked as the ice elementals that lived in her feet sought to drain the heat from his body.

"I think we're looking at plausible deniability for him," Dave replied, shifting slightly to direct her feet away from the flesh they'd already chilled.

"I've got a feeling that Bob is going to end up being blamed for pretty much everything that goes wrong," Dave continued, "also, he's got that unable to lie thing, so when he looks confused and says 'huh?' it'll help sell the fact that he didn't have anything to do with our shenanigans."

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