Typhoon.

Typhoon. Now that's a powerful sounding name for a trident if you've ever heard one. You doze off.

Friday March 29th

6:00am

You awake due to the efforts of Susie Longbones. She tears off your blanket and throws it to the floor. "C'mon Hark! We've got ass to whoop today!" You rise with groggy eyes, your morning glory on full display. "O-oh my." Susie attempts to peel her eyes away from your manly mast but is unable. Instead she throws some metal armor at you. "Get dressed!"

"Yes ma'am." You reply with a yawn and strap on a metal chest plate that has glowing wave patterns trailing over the well worn metal. You then equip a pair of heavy leather boots with steel toes and a pair of chainmail greaves. The gloves are of particular note, they're tight fitting and flexible as a pair of expensive leather gloves, but heavy and cold. "Special gift from everyone at the Hull." Susie lashes out with a left handed strike. Her knife strikes against the gloves harmlessly. "Nifty." You throw a punch, the glove are sure to be a help in close combat, they'll increase the strength of your punches threefold.

The cold morning air fills the space of your lungs as you step out into a lush spring day. The flowers are sparkling and the Hull is teeming with signs of life. Children are climbing the masts and learning their knots and ship terminology on the deck. You feel a strong sense of ease. Life is good here, the trees are healthy and food is fresh. "Everyone is already at the forest." Susie says before she breaks out into a jog. You stride alongside her, taking in the morning beauty. It's a beautiful day for combat, clear skies, singing birds, and gentle breeze. Soon enough you reach the Proving grounds. You spot the rest of your group near a large tree. The demigods are all jostling each other and making bets. In the distance you spot several different colored flags. One red, one green, and one gray.

Over in the Red Team waiting area. "Fuck that piece of shit Jotor. I'll run my spear through his goddamn mouth!" the girl barks her last syllables. Anger gnaws inside of her, and random objects around her begin to combust. "Calm down Treia." A young man wearing plate armor from head to toe lays a gauntleted hand on Treia's shoulder. His hand ignites in white hot flames, but the man does not seem to care. "I know what he did to our father's shrine! I want him taken alive! Alive! Got it!" The rest of House Fuoco shout in response.

At the Green Team waiting area nothing can be seen. A single banner waves a lonely trail in the warm summer breeze. If you look closely however. You might notice the occasional step or the gentle sound of a deep breath. "House Akaria will claim Jotor Battlehelm. Take him alive, and bring him to the House Head."

The undetermined camp.

"You all know how it is." Marcus Tearnot addresses the mass of undetermined recruits. "This is our last chance to be claimed for a while. With the situation as is, anyone left unclaimed by the end of this Proving will be **** to leave the Isles."

A somber mood is ringing out through the crowd. Their armors are gray. Blank and drab. Several determined eyes shine in the crowd. Marcus for one, has a very sure look on his face. "I know two things my undetermined brothers. Several of the houses want Jotor Battlehelm. If we keep careful track of his movements, we can determine where the other Houses will be." Marcus thrusts his finger towards several different people. "Helena, you keep watch of the blue team. Raven, you're on red and Bruckus is on green."

"Get ready Hark. It's going to be a hell of a battle."

You're in a sort of daze. Everything is going by so fast, it feels like this is all some strange dream. A war horn sounds in the distance, it's high and shrill. Like a woman screaming.

"Hold!" A command is shouted.

The line bristles with nervous energy. You can hear them before you see them. Two massive bulldogs, the size of Jeeps. come bounding out from the forest. Molten lava spills from the maw of each creature, they look to be guarding a tall woman with red hair. Her back is straight, her eyes are filled with fierce fire, and her expression betrays no emotion. Fire radiates outwards in a large spiral, singing the leaves of the nearby trees, the woman shouts and a pair of flaming wings sprout from her back.

A spear materializes in her hand and she takes flight. Arrows begin to rain down from the sky, covered in sticky tar and set alight with fire. The shields clatter as everyone rushes to block the incoming hail of arrows. You ready Typhoon. Just as the rain of arrows thud into your metal shield. The person next to you, Joey Chessnut, is impaled through the chest by a long, burning spear. You can hear him gargle as the thick wood of the spear slides between his lungs. Treia's wings flap with a fury and send up hot gusts of air, throwing back any would be attackers and burning nearly everyone within range. You can feel your entire left side being set aflame, the pain is unbearable and you fall to one knee. An arrow plunges its way through the meat of your shoulder. You can hear screaming.

You hear murmuring. It sounds like a prayer.

Cold water begins to spider web around your body, the rivers of liquid stream around the coarse blackened skin and bestows healing. You hurl Typhoon, the trident shoots out with all the **** of a ballista and impales itself through Treia's wings. You see other members of House Aquana rise and begin their charge against House Fuoco. Treia's wings are tattered and useless, you recall Typhoon to your hand and are burned as an immediate result. You grit your teeth and charge the leader of House Fuoco. She grunts and keeps you at bay with three swift jabs of her spear. You take the blows on your shield while circling left, Typhoon is singing in your hand, eager for blood. Treia is all aggression and ill will, she thrusts at your feet, while throwing kicks at your groin area with annoying regularity. She's agile and quick thinking, constantly disturbing your movement with her attacks.

A jagged point makes way for your foot, you throw your weight into the woman, and bash her in the head with your shoulder. She loses her stance and you're in range for a killing blow.