Duh.

-u."

You whisk the bottle away from Jotor and wrap it snuggly between your lips. The first gulp sends a sharp burning sensation all over your body, the second makes you feel like you've dipped your head into cold water, and the third nearly makes you pass out. "Easy there! Oh boy you can drink! We're gonna be great friends you an I! I'll tellya!" Jotor laughs merrily before taking the bottle back and knocking down a couple gulps himself. What was in that damn bottle? You hunch over and put your hands on your knees, trying to catch your breath. "Leviathan's Swill. Strong stuff. Aquana's favorite." Jotor says Aquana's name with reverence, pouring a shot glass of Leviathan's Swill into a nearby fountain filled with golden koi. "It's the only stuff that can get us demigod's drunk."

"The hell is in it?"

"Piss." Jotor says before slamming another gulp. Before Jotor is done with his, hopefully, bad joke you feel the effects of the Swill. Your body feels warm, strong, numb, and light all at the same time. Colors look brighter and you swear you can see little goldfish. "Harrrr! You've got that look in your eye! Are ya seeing fairies Hark?"

You're too dazed and drunken to respond with any real logic or intention. "Uhh yeah. Fairies." One of the goldfish winks at you, before shuffling away on its feet. Its feet?

"Oh my goddess Hark." Greia facepalms and leans against the wall. "Someone is gonna have to babysit you two idiots." She's smiling as she says this.

You try to swim but realize you're on dry ground, you end up flopping on the ground and making strange pulsating maneuvers. You burst out laughing at the incredulous situation, you try to stand to your feet but to no avail. Jotor giggles as he helps you up. "WE'RE GOING FISHING!" Jotor tugs you by the arm and grabs the fishing pole you had seen earlier. You feel very light on your feet, like you could do a flip just by thinking about it. Greia follows along, Jotor marches the three of you to the nearby a nearby river.

"This here river is real important to us Hark." Jotor looks fondly at the rushing blue waters of the expansive river. You can see the water stretch all the way to the horizon. "Behold! Aquana's Wings! The pride and joy of our family. The waters stretch all through the camp and back into the salty sea. Children of Aquana come here all the time, sometimes even by accident." Jotor gives you a wink and hands you the fishing rod. "Good luck brother." The goldfish hallucinations look downright jubilant, you can see schools of multicolored fish swimming through the twilight air, dipping into the river and out. You see Greia, shimmering in her green outfit, basking in the afterglow of the sun and stretching out in the grass next to the riverbed. Before you can turn your head and say thank you, Jotor somersaults into the river.

You gawk and shake your head, trusting that Jotor will probably be okay. You sit next to Greia. "Say. I've still got a bunch of questions about all of this."

Greia looks up at you lazily, a warm look of contentment on her face. "Shoot."

"Can you give me a primer, a I don't know, a catchall for what I'm going to be learning about?" You cast the fishing pole into the crystal clear waters. The line shimmers with a magical glow, in the place of bait, the fishing rod uses a magical contraption instead. The contraption activates upon touching water, emitting a type of mana that attracts wildlife.

"I think it's time for the list." Greia says as she runs her hands over her uniform, "Damn where did I put that pen." She gets up and checks her boot, bending over outrageously to do so. You pray to Aquana for strength, those cheeks are mighty brilliant.

Greia huffs before giving up the search for her lost pen. She begins to weave her fingers in complex patterns and magic letters begin to appear out of thin air. "All Entities are classed under a rank. It's not complicated but there's a lot to memorize, and most of it won't even be important. But it's vital to understand where you are in the hierarchy of power Hark."

You nod, looking at the list and committing it to memory.

Entities

1st Rank (Ghosts, Evil Energies, Lesser Spirits, Harpies, Phantoms, Small magical creatures)

2nd Rank (Demons, Large Monsters, Powerful Spirits)

3rd Rank (demigods.)

4th Rank (Lesser deities)

5th Rank ( Goddesses and Gods)

6th Rank (Malevolent Cosmic Beings)

"All Entities are classified under ranks, Rogue Entities fall under the same ranking scale. You and I would be in the third rank, although I'm beginning to suspect you may be a fourth rank Entity. We can't be too sure but your golden blood is a pretty good sign."

"I'm a lesser deity? Me? A deity? I can barely clean my own room Greia." You toss your head back and chuckle.

Greia smirks, "Yes, you, a deity. Don't get weirded out when people start praying to you."

"You serious?" Is she serious?

"Deadly." She still has a coy smile playing on her lips.

"Well what makes you and I so different, enough so that I have an entirely different ranking?" You look towards the river, you swear you felt a bite.

"Simple, demigods have one godly parent, deities, have two. Having one godly parent is already enough to supercharge a kid with incredible powers, but having two? And you've got yourself a person with divine capabilities."

"Well I'm glad no one here treats me like a deity. Cus I still don't feel like one, I feel like a regular dude, taller but still me."

"That's cause you can't feel your own energy, although you have gotten better at keeping it contained. Also, when you were passed out in the Station, we got three days and nights worth of rain." You feel a tug on the line as Greia finishes her sentence. "It's a big one!" You feel a massive pull from the depths of the water. You strain with all your strength, the fishing rod is so well crafted that it can even handle your herculean might. "Wheeee!!" Jotor screams with glee as he comes splashing up and out of the water, a beautiful mermaid is in his arms, laughing as well. The mermaid speaks in strange tones, which Jotor nods along to, before responding in the same tongue. They kiss and the mermaid dips back into the water.

"Sun is a comin down me hearties." Jotor is somehow still dry. "Let's get a moving and into bed. Got a full day ahead of us."

"I should be heading off to my dorm as well. It's been fun Hark." She hugs you. She smells like wood and strawberries. You can't help but take in a deep breath of her scent. Greia is grinning, nuzzling into you while molesting your back muscles. She breaks off in a quick panic though, embarrassed and already running away at full stride. Jotor laughs, "She's a good lass Hark, I can already see you'll be breaking a couple hearts here."

You banter back and forth with Jotor as the two of you head home in the purple sunset. The trees sway in the gentle breeze and the hull of your new home looks inviting. As you step in you notice an increase in the amount of activity. Kids from ages 8-16 are running around and wreaking havoc, casting water spells and creating mini tidal waves in the living room. None of the furniture is getting wet though, nor is the wood. "Well that sure is convenient." You note as you run a finger along the plush padding of a nearby couch that had the honor of being blasted by a water stream.

"Everyone! This Hark!" Jotor attempts an introduction while being ravaged by the Leviathan's Swill. The kids mainly ignore you, but the adults and a few other people near your age come and shake your hand. After introductions you dig into a warm meal of ox tail stew and mashed potatoes, with sourdough bread on the side.

One of the girls, Susie. She's 19 and is wearing a light blue dress, tells you that your room is on the third floor of the hull. You climb a set of stairs and find your room waiting for you. There are extra jeans, shirts, socks, underwear, and belts all in stock. The bed is covered in blue blankets and pillows, it's clean and there's a small circular window looking outside across the countryside. The moon is hanging overhead. You take off your clothes down to your boxers and climb in your new bed.

--

You open your weary eyes as Jotor shakes you. "Hey. Hark. Got news for ya down at the shrine." You yawn and stretch, you can feel it's morning. You nod and get into some clothes. Jotor leads you to a bullskin tent down by the beach. The tent is wide and offers enough room for an entire crowd of people. Inside the tent are large paintings of tidal waves and volcanoes. "This is a tent made from the Demon Bulls of the South Plain. It's a sacred material to our father. Word is that a trident appeared here overnight, with your name on it." Jotor leads you in.

You see the shrine first, made from large slabs of coral and decorated with shark teeth and anchors, then you look at the trident. It's four feet in length and gleams with a soft light. The tips are barbed and fashioned so that the middle point protrudes just a few inches past the other two. The prongs are crafted close together, a trident meant for stabbing and tearing and right on the handle of the weapon you see your name inscribed elegantly. You can feel it call to you. Urging you to pick it up.

"It's a powerful relic. We're having our handmaidens bless it with Proteco's blessing as per the instructions." Says an attending handmaiden.

"There were instructions?" You ask.

"Yes and they were quite detailed." she explains smoothly before introducing you to two more handmaidens. The two women are dressed in head to toe in soft white clothing, sheer and satin. Both of them are thoroughly drenched, so that their naked forms underneath peer erotically through to the naked eye, golden chains with jewels shaped into fish dangle from their necks. "Is this the dress code?"

"Shh." Jotor smacks you as the handmaidens begin chanting.

You see a woman with a large two handed great sword standing guard in the corner. She gives you a knowing look, and glances at the bountiful behind of one of the handmaidens. They're so perfectly plump and inviting, like the curvature of the crescent moon.

--

“We pray to the goddess of certainty, the maiden of security, the lady of fair deeds.

We invoke her name to steady our hearts, to ease our spirits,

We call upon her, and beseech her to grant us her mercy.”

Ria the handmaiden finishes the prayer and hands you the trident. “Protecos’ blessing is upon this weapon. When thrown the trident will be able to home in on enemies. It also abides by Protecos’ Ideals, so make sure you don’t go breaking too many promises or commit heinous acts.”

“The last heinous act Hark committed was farting in the dorm last night.” Jotor guffaws and slaps his knee. You ignore Jotor and thank Ria. “There’s a range in the back, if you want to test that new toy of yours.” Ria smiles and points to a section in the backyard.

You nod and take the trident in your hand. It has a good heft to it, the weight is well balanced and the leather grip is made with careful craftsmanship. The bronze material gleams in the torchlight, you can feel the trident’s intentions, it appears to be pleased about having found a master.

You step outside into the shooting range.

50 paces from you lies a single target. It’s in the shape of a human holding a shield, it has a frowny face painted on.

You take a second to really marvel at the creation, the trident, not the crappy practice dummy. The bronze shines in the sunlight with magical energy, “Not just ordinary metal! No sir! That there is stuff of the gods!”

“Elaborate.” You say.

“The material is found only in the heavens, it's priceless Hark, don't go losing it.”

"In the heavens?" You look at the thing with renewed eyes, it suddenly feels a lot heavier.

Jotor grins. “Hey, go on and throw the damn thing!”

“Oh right.” You can’t help but be curious, the heavens! Holy shit! Literally.

You plant your back foot hard, leaning back and splaying your free hand out for balance. Your occupied right hand goes white knuckled on the shaft of the trident as you tug hard with the muscles of your shoulder. You focus and breath with steadfast intention, willing the trident to hit the dummy right in the head. The trident blasts forward and impales itself into the dummy, tufts of dirt and blasts of wind go flying as your throw hits its mark. “Nice throw.” Jotor looks deadly serious, “Good form. Nice focus, and great power.” Jotor looks you dead in the eye. “But we didn’t really get to see if the blessing really works aye?”

“What do you mean?”

“Lad, you hurled the thing hard enough to knock a bull off of its feet, and I doubt that’s because of some fancy blessing, nay, that’s pure beef and brawn is what that is.” Jotor guffaws again and stretches in the noon sun. “Try it again, but this time, try to miss, and with less ****.”

You shrug and do it again. This time aiming your throw to the left, and putting a little less power into it. You maintain your mental focus on the dummy, and the trident shifts its course midair, curving gracefully into the dummy as if guided by a firm breeze. “Well I’ll be.” Jotor lets loose a soft whistle.

“Are you hitting on me right now?”

Jotor breaks out his usual smile, “Nay, unless it was for training. You’re going to be a real menace tomorrow, you know that? You know how to use a shield? Trident and shield is a great combo, you could also lug around a net with ya. Make things real nasty for their infantry.”

“No, please teach me.”

Jotor leads you to the training arena. Other people are going through their drills, practicing sword strikes, tackles, and various other forms of martial prowess. You grab a wooden shield. “No, not that one.” Jotor throws a metal shield at you, triangular and painted black. “You’ll be using real weapons in tomorrow's battle, so there’s no point in wood.” Jotor’s smile twists into a mean snarl as he draws his steel. His blade moves in a rapid arc, threatening to slice across your face.

You shift your shield upwards, meeting Jotor’s swing before it can reach full speed, you block the blow easily and are successful in moving Jotor off balance. You ready the trident at your side, taking note of it’s length.

The trident is around four feet in length, thin and sporting three wicked sharp spear points. You make a quick jab, testing Jotor’s guard, probing him with far reaching thrusts. The length of your arms coupled with the reach of the trident makes for a deadly combination. Jotor struggles against your sniper like jabs, parrying and stepping backwards against the tide of your attacks. He makes a **** hop to the right.

He manages to dodge your attack and readies his own. A low angled swing that is aimed for your left rib cage.

Choice : You can either block with the shield, or try to stab Jotor.