The Bloodstone Rebellion

A Tournament of Champions has brought the realms' greatest warriors to the city of sorcery. The prizes include ultra-rare faez crystals which could turn an average combatant into an exemplar of physical prowess.

For Pandora, the tournament is a chance to get close to her grandfather and end his hold on the Undercity. Disguised as the Lady Saha, a minor noble from the maetrie realm, she joins the tournament with her bodyservant, Kuma. They must defeat countless warriors in an ever-changing arena while formulating a plan that can take down Dominion Thule. Their task takes on new urgency when they learn Dominion came to the Undercity, not just for the faez crystals and control over the clans, but for ancient artifacts that threaten the safety of the realms. If Pandora can't stop her grandfather, then more than Undercity will fall under Dominion's control.

Chapter One

Six weeks earlier

The stylized poster near the stage had drawn a crowd. Valor Drux cradled his beer, eyeing the commotion with curiosity. He'd seen a woman tack it onto the wall, then take a seat at the bar. She had spiked green hair, shaved on the sides, and the markings of a waku—the formidable martial artists that used the strange crystals only found in the Undercity. He'd heard rumors of their existence from his home in Seward where he ran a small fleet of fishing boats and taught Jin Jutsu during the long, cold Alaskan winter. The idea that those without magic could suddenly gain the abilities that previously only the top Halls could muster had convinced him to buy a ticket to the city of sorcery. After a week of exploration, he'd been sent to the Goblin's Romp, a seedy bar that was run by the criminal gang that controlled the Undercity. It was his second day at the bar, and his inquiries into purchasing a faez crystal had resulted in blank stares.

Valor motioned to the bartender, an odd-looking character with orangish skin, a slit nose, and crinkled ears that marked him as some sort of non-human. He wasn't a fan of the refugees from other realms, but since it wasn't his city, he wasn't going to make a big deal about it. Better that the trogs stayed here rather than muck up his hometown.

While he waited for his drink, Valor approached the poster, leveraging people out of his way. Even the largest of them hesitated when they saw him barreling through the crowd. That was the way he liked it. Most people knew instinctively when they met a superior being, and if they didn't recognize it right away, Valor was more than happy to give them a sample.

Standing a head taller than the other onlookers, Valor examined the poster, which displayed a trio of fighters in ready stances. In bold, movie-style letters, the header read: Undercity Tournament of Champions. The date was two months away, but that wasn't the part that piqued Valor's interest. Below the three fighters was a section explaining that the top finishers would receive bloodstones—a faez crystal that Valor hadn't heard of despite him reading everything he could about the Undercity happenings—and the winner would earn a black diamond. A secondary paragraph suggested that those not confident in their abilities could apply to join the Alliance clan, which he suspected was the real reason for the tournament. A recruitment ploy.

"I promise I won't hurt you too bad if you get matched with me," said Valor, enjoying the way the crowd shifted away from him as if they could sense his internal power.

Back at the bar, he collected his beer and found a spot near the woman with the green hair. She wore a sleeveless jean jacket and gave him side-eye. She'd be attractive if she bothered to fix herself up.

"Don’t worry, I'm not here to hit on you. You're not my type. What's your name?"

"Go fuck yourself," she said, then finished her beer.

"I plan on entering the tournament. I figure I have a good shot at winning."

The bartender approached, gesturing towards the empty mug. "Hey, Adrena, you need another?"

Adrena grumbled under her breath, but nodded.

"Adrena, huh?" said Valor. "Sounds like it's short for something."

"It's short for none of your fucking business, unless you'd like to stop breathing through your face holes and start breathing through a hole in your chest."

"I'm not intimidated by women like you," he said magnanimously, spreading his palms to show how open-minded he was. "In fact, I've thrown down a few times when the moment's right, if you know what I mean."

"Make it two, Donnie," said Adrena, holding up her fingers.

The trog bartender nodded, grabbing a second glass and filling it to the brim. She took both and left the bar, which Valor didn't understand, because he could still follow her.

"I need information."

"And I need a hangover," she said with her back to him, finishing one of the beers as she headed into the back of the bar.

"I'm looking to purchase a faez crystal. I figured you're the woman to talk to. On skills alone, I'm sure I'm the best who'll enter your tournament, but I recognize that those little magical baubles would make a king out of a jester."

"Good for you."

She set the empty mug on the table of a couple who were eating greasy burgers and headed into the women’s bathroom. Valor grabbed her arm before she disappeared past the door. He could be forward, but he wasn't going to be that rude. He had a good grip on her forearm, years of working his fishing boats and training in the gym having given him the kind of working strength that often surprised those that mistakenly tangled with him. But she yanked her arm out of his hand so quickly and easily that it actually made him stutter to a stop.

"If you touch me again I'm going to skin you alive and wear you as a hat."

It was the first time he'd really gotten a front-facing view of the Alliance waku. Her eyes were smudged black and there was a deep sadness in her gaze that reminded him of his buddies from the military who'd seen too many of their friends die. She placed the second mug against her lips and drained it while she stared him down, shoving the glass into his gut and disappearing into the bathroom. Valor returned to the bar, a little stunned from the encounter.

"What's with her?" he asked the bartender, congratulating himself internally for not adding "trog" to the end of his question.

"She OG."

Valor checked back over his shoulder. "Her? She barely looks twenty-five."

"Adrena from old Razor, then Drops, before she had to join Alliance. She was born with blade in her fist and probably killed more people than the plague. To live in the shadows is to live with death every day."

"Which faez crystals does she have?"

The trog bartender's slit nostrils flared. "That's dangerous question to ask a waku, but since you new here, I tell you anyway. She topaz and amber stones."

"Stones," repeated Valor. "Strength, speed, and sensing. A formidable combination. Thanks, Donnie."

"Stones only part of equation for OG like Adrena," said Donnie, nodding sagely. "The best can run up walls, or dance through the air like a zephyr, other things you can barely dream of. A waku who knows their stones can kill a dozen weak ones without breaking a sweat."

Before he'd left for the city of sorcery, Valor had read up on everything he could about the waku and the Undercity. He'd thought the accounts were exaggerations, especially the cheap comics he found online, but he suspected there was a kernel of truth to them. Not enough to disabuse him of his confidence, but enough that he knew he couldn’t blindly rush into the Undercity.

"You gonna join tournament?" asked Donnie.

"Join, no. Win, yes," said Valor, shooting the bartender a victorious smile.

Back in his hometown he was used to his fellow residents responding to his confidence, but the bartender only nodded and continued wiping the surface down with a rag.

"Good luck."

Valor sipped on his beer, considering his next move. He hadn't seen Adrena come out of the women's bathroom yet. For all he knew, she'd gone in to throw up. She'd looked like she was in a bad way.

"You seem to know a thing or two, Donnie," he said to the bartender. "Who might my competition be?"

"Hard to say, since the competition was just announced, but I know at least one." Donnie gestured to the back area where a wall of booths was set up near a couple of pool tables. "Big man in the corner. Broke a brick with his bare hands a few nights ago for a bet."

Valor spotted the person—no, trog—that Donnie was speaking about. Had to be around seven feet tall with umber skin and an ugly mug, sporting a single snaggletooth.

"What…?"

"Brodarian," said Donnie, squinting. "They're—"

"I know who they are," said Valor. "I subscribe to Soldier of Fortune."

The idea of testing himself against races from other realms had him intrigued. He was certain no humans could best him, so maybe he needed to be concerned about the foreigners in the tournament. But first, he needed to acquire stones of his own. Valor pulled out a large bill and slid it across to Donnie.

"You don't happen to know where one acquires a faez crystal? I'd be more than happy to pay a finder's fee for whoever can help me out," said Valor with a wink.