Rhace Tarrin
Failure Begets Innovation
Aboard the SS Endeavor, Meliora Vitae’s fighters trained hard, day in and day out, to be able to produce the results that the Relocation and Dispatch division required; the work that the guild’s monster-slayers needed to be able to produce proved particularly vicious when the monsters they needed to slay to bring the environment back to equilibrium were becoming tougher and tougher. The world, being on the precipice as it was, even still needed strong fighters to help right the ship as things began to fall into a downward spiral of chaos. Rhace had been there, at Felidae, to know what all of that meant. Things were getting worse and worse and when the true fallout of the chaos became apparent, the guild was not going to be able to bury its head in the sand and ignore what was happening around them. To support that, Rhace Tarrin sought to spend his time with his mentor, and ensure that his combat prowess was up to scratch even as the world fell apart around them. The end of the world as they knew it was no excuse to let his training lapse, even if it would have served as a wonderful excuse. However, Rhace was not one to shy away from such a challenge.
In one of the larger training halls aboard the airship, Rhace was readying for yet another bout with yet another combat drone that Lethe was preparing for him to fight. This was not his first bout with a drone and yet he knew it would also be far from his last in this insidious barrage of this training regimen. Every time Rhace defeated one enemy, a new and stronger one came prepared for him. This was Lethe’s way; she was not cruel, but she was firm and strict in the way she approached his development, which he was incredibly used to. However, the opponents were now eclipsing a point that he was able to handle with nothing more than his swordsmanship, refined as it was becoming.
So, having long cast aside his top, Rhace faced down his next enemy; sweat beading off his skin as he clutched the aqua-glowing blade of Granveil, staring at the drone that barely skimmed over the ground. This thing, formed of three ovoid shapes joined by small cylinders, could brandish all types of weapons in thin manipulator arms that extended from the central section. This one came equipped with both gun and blade, meaning it was going to attempt to engage from all ranges to try and outsmart Rhace and his technical ability. The student of the Granven style refused to give up and, in many cases here, he had plenty of combat tricks to outsmart this particular enemy.
Without warning, the gun in the drone’s hand went off, unleashing a beam of blue energy directly at the swordsman; his only response was to take a shadow step and move closer to his opponent. Blade glowing brightly under the dazzling hall lights, he cut down from high guard in an attempt to cleave the mechanical being in half with a single blow. Inhuman reaction times brought the sword up to guard against the warrior’s powerful swing, whilst bringing the gun up underneath the blade to unload a shot at close range. All of this being simultaneous, Rhace ate the energy shot directly to the midsection; he could feel his skin blistering and burning as the burn began to eat away at his body. Taking a step back to untangle his blade, he brought it bouncing off the opponent into a pair of horizontal cuts, which were simply parried off the drone’s blade as if they were nothing. This thing had all of Rhace’s herculean strength, coupled with the reaction time of pure lightning.
Four more shots to Rhace’s chest were met with little resistance as he tried to cleave through his enemy. Whether he was not thinking straight and fighting like a berserker in order to beat his way through this training cycle or he simply wasn’t good enough was beginning to blur together, but the end result was still the same: one shot to the right shoulder, two more to the chest, and one to the right knee.
He dropped to one knee. Barely able to hold his sword aloft, Rhace Tarrin had to admit defeat against a damn drone.
”You’re still too rigid, Rhace. Inflexible. You have only one solution to this problem and you have to overcome that.”
Lethe’s words bit hard. She was not saying it to be cruel, but only to point out the flaws in his combat style in order to help him overcome it. He knew this. He was used to this form of constructive criticism, and yet…
”Take a day and solve this problem, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early.”
By the time that Lethe was already halfway out the door, Rhace’s emerald eyes could barely hold a glance to anything but the floor. It was so damn frustrating that a robot could fight as well as he could, if not better. The pain in his body was only a reminder as it mixed in with the adrenaline that he had failed in his duty. What good was being the heir to the Granven school if it was no longer enough for him to fight his enemies? These drones– not even people– were now outpacing his combat style, and he was definitely not okay with that.
Not after five days straight of having his shit increasingly kicked in by robots.
Day five. His body was covered in the same welts that had already been left on him, with the four fresh ones now burning into his skin. Every drone hit harder. The first day had been Lethe testing him with warning shots. From there, it had been increasingly difficult, where he was now finding that these burns– without treatment– would probably never go away. Gods, what was he going to tell Cassiti and Cordelia about this? They were inevitably going to see and hear about this little venture, and then he’d absolutely never live it down. And then there would be nothing but shame.
Slowly, pushing his way up to his feet, the swordsman looked at the combat drone. In a moment of nothing but spite and rage, Granveil whirled through the air; a green blast of light pierced through the drone in pure anger as Rhace turned away from the smouldering hulk. That’d show a damn robot to be better than him.
For now, Rhace had work to do. At the risk of not being able to learn techniques faster, he was going to give himself equipment. Combat tricks. Something to get him through this.
—
One of the many good things that Meliora Vitae had in its airship was an expansive research and development division. This meant that, when it came to creating new technologies, things were easy; when this was a multi-million jewel airship that was incredibly technically complex, there needed to be an extremely advanced ability to repair and maintain it. The guild’s members being able to execute such was therefore part of the package that came with the advanced facilities the Endeavor required.
So, there Rhace was, seated in front of a terminal, doing a whole bunch of reading. There were technicians on standby to assist him with his queries, but he knew that he had to do most of his own work. What he needed was something that allowed him to be adaptable and flexible, without offending some of his sensibilities; the immediate logical choice would have been a suit of armour, but this was not something that Granven students typically wore. Their armour was their blade… and occasionally an off-hand buckler shield. Actually, that right there was an option. Instead of any normal buckler, however, Rhace knew that they could do more, and do it better. Energy weapon technology existed. He knew, after all. Ask the burns on his body. Besides, Lethe approved of energy tech, meaning it’d at least get her nod. Well, that was one.
But could he do more?
Fingers darted over the keyboard at the terminal that he sat before, staring intently as the screen. Words flashed past his vision, scrolling through data logs of a number of combat training logs that he was calling up regarding the people he trained with, most specifically Lethe. She was a master of her arts and could fight any number of opponents with little more than the things in her arsenal - however, so much of it was magical in nature that Rhace knew in his soul that he could not copy her terms. He was unfortunately entirely non-magical. While he wielded a sword that was forged and magical in nature, he himself could not actuate magic to save his life. It was the unfortunate curse of the Tarrin bloodline; peerless swordsmen, yet magically inept. It was why so many of the people in Meliora Vitae simply did not know how to handle him. Mages were dime a dozen in Fiore, yet he was one of the few that just was not a mage. So, he considered, what was the best way for him to be able to replicate the advanced abilities of a mage without actually employing magic himself? Simple, Rhace considered: act like a Pergrandian and replicate the effects of magic with technology. He’d dealt with that particular ilk recently. If they could do it, so could he. It was something of a long shot, honestly - replicating magical effects with technology could only go so far, but in many cases the technology existed such that he might be able to pull it off.
So he contemplated precisely what he wished to do with it. What could he possibly use? Some form of self-regenerative healing, he supposed - wouldn’t hurt at all to have something to keep him going at all times. Some tricks to disable and disorient enemies, for sure. Maybe some sleep darts, or flashbang grenades. Those were things that kept an enemy guessing and unable to deal with threats. And, he supposed, having the ability to conceal himself from his enemies meant that he’d be less likely to be detected. But how could he reproduce it? That was the real question. These were all wonderful, but carrying all this equipment, plus a sword and shield, was going to weigh down on him.
What would Lethe do?
This was the question he needed to ask. How would his teacher do this? Copy, adapt, transcend - the three thoughts of the Granven school that meant that he could take what she did, make it suit him, then be able to use it in not only any situation but ensure that others could do the same by his teachings. What would she do?
As he idly scrolled through technical information of the ship, it hit him: nanotechnology. It was a healing method, a way for him to get his hands on everything, and more; he could have self-replicating nanites not only create the things he needed but produce the effects he wished for. There was nothing else he knew he could do, but this would work. And it made everything incredibly portable! Say, on a belt. Something that could be worn effortlessly, and would allow him to create what he needed.
Rhace hunkered down over the keyboard, and began to get to work. These nanites weren’t going to program themselves. Truth told, neither was he. He wasn’t technologically minded enough to do this, even if his mentor was. He’d end up creating a list of things and taking it to the big brained technicians aboard the ship for them to replicate after he said pretty please to them. Surely they could spare some time helping him for some work, right?
Sure enough, a few hours later, an entire cheat-sheet with some sketches on it was printed out and prepared for the techs to assemble. At least he could kind of draw what he wanted enough, and surely they could use the nanite technology to, uh, replicate more nanites or something. At least that was the theory. In a day or two, he was going to end up with the piece of equipment of his dreams. That would show those stupid combat drones a thing or two. Rhace looked forward to his next encounter with them once they were all twitching, blind, stunned messes on the floor before he put them to the sword. That was the idea, anyway.
As he approached Lethe the following morning, a new belt cinched around his waist, she looked on with surprise and anticipation for what tricks her student was going to pull out of his new blademaster’s arsenal.
MEL @ WW
