"Me mother's breast milk was more alcoholic than this!"
Picklebeard laughs and gets to know his competition between rounds.
"I hope the compitishun in tha games'll be better than this sorry lot! Cotio, me boy, never go against a dwarf when it comes ta drinkin'!"
1.
Fail
Out
2.
Fail
Out
3.
Fail
Out
4.
Fail
Out
5.
Fail
Out
The men show little interest in conversing between rounds as they furiously attempt to outdrink one another with little pause. It appears that you are out of the competition when you throw up, and all of the competition except Picklebeard and Cotoio manage four pints each before they vomit. Cotoio is clearly suffering by the fourth ale while Picklebeard stands there drinking merrily, making small talk which seems to only infuriate the big man. Clearly suffering from the drinks, Cotoio manages to get a fifth down him before retching it out, collapsing on his hands and knees in defeat. Picklebeard drinks another three ales for good measure (8 total) and Cotoio manages to drunkenly roll eight silver pieces across the floor roughly in the Dwarf's direction as he groans in agony. About twenty minutes have passed. The amused barkeep chuckles at the spectacle, serving Picklebeard a fine glass of imported brandy as his prize.
"Ain't nuttin' to a dwarf! Thank ye barkeep!" Picklebeard take's his prize and slides three of his winnings to the bartender with a courteous nod. "Fer your troubles..."
He lets Verithrex smell the fine imported brandy before taking a sip for himself.
"mmm.. not bad... not bad at all!"
He finishes the glass and looks around trying to spot someone from his crew. He is mostly looking for that half-fairy or the faces of the Jakob or N'bellocq so he can tell them how wrong they were.
Picklebeard doesn't spot any of his crew and has absolutely no idea of their whereabouts.
Meanwhile, Tebati and N'bellocq have shown their tokens to a nearby soldier, and have been led around the large tent, over a guarded step-gate in the fence and into a much smaller blue tent just past the fence. You are addressed by the soldier as he escorts you inside.
In a little under an hour, you will be asked to submit your choices for the first and second trial. After each pair of trials, the surviving members of your team will be escorted back into this tent and you will make your choices for the next round. We'll be sending someone for you in an hour- the parchment on the table will explain further.
The tent is fairly spartan in nature- seven wooden stools set around a wooden table. As mentioned by the soldier before he leaves, a piece of parchment is lying face down on the table.
Once the hour is about up I, with Qhude in tow I expect, will head back the competitors gate and show our tokens to enter.
All assuming of course that nothing dramatic happens over that hour.
"Damn!"
Picklebeard stands up on a chair and looks again.. this time Verithrex is helping. He recalls something about the gal wanting to find a soldier to help them... so he struggles to find one standing around. The crowd is so thick he can't tell who from what.
"Let's find me friends, Verithrex and then win these games!"
He scootches down from the chair and shuffles into the crowds hopefully finding someone he knows or the direction to a soldier. I gotsta show dis damn coin to a soldier an' then easy minin' from there! No one can stop a Blackhammer!
Meanwhile, Tebati and N'bellocq have shown their tokens to a nearby soldier, and have been led around the large tent, over a guarded step-gate in the fence and into a much smaller blue tent just past the fence. You are addressed by the soldier as he escorts you inside.
In a little under an hour, you will be asked to submit your choices for the first and second trial. After each pair of trials, the surviving members of your team will be escorted back into this tent and you will make your choices for the next round. We'll be sending someone for you in an hour- the parchment on the table will explain further.
The tent is fairly spartan in nature- seven wooden stools set around a wooden table. As mentioned by the soldier before he leaves, a piece of parchment is lying face down on the table.
Tebati looks at N'bellocq inquisitively, as she approaches the parchment on the table and flips it over. This is the first she's heard about having choices....
"It seems we will have teams within teams." He looks back to the door to see that they are indeed alone. "These fellows have been fine for traveling, but we have yet to be tested as a group. And now...our fortunes will rely on others...I like it not...but, I guess I must have faith that Shimye-Magalla has a purpose with this crooked river we navigate."
He walks to the table and pushes the parchment closer to Tebati without looking at it. "Can you read it to me before the others come.".
"'The surviving members of your team,'" Tebati reminds him, quoting back what the soldier said. "Even if the dwarf's drunkenness fulfills your worst fears, it would seem his failure would not mean ours, only that our numbers are lessened for the next trial." She sits down on one of the stools and begins to read....
Picklebeard does eventually find a soldier, although it takes some time. Eventually, the whole team has gathered in the tent, where Tebati and N'bellocq have already been familiarising themselves with the parchment before them. The parchment is a simple but informative document, reading-
There will be eight trials, held throughout the day in four pairs- Morning to Midday, Midday to Early Afternoon, Early Afternoon to Late Afternoon, Late Afternoon to Evening. The results ceremony will end the Trials of Grallus where the Grand Custodian will present the winning team with a monetary prize as well as a document briefing the team on the endeavour before them. If the winning team has lost a significant proportion of their team, they will be permitted to recruit additional members from the runners up.
The team with the most points at the end of the eight Trials will be the winner. Points are earnt according to rank in the seperate trials, as detailed below-
First place, ten points.
Second place, eight points.
Third place, six points.
Fourth place, four points.
Fifth place, two points.
Sixth place, zero points.
Each trial will specify whether magic is permitted to be used in its description.
Important-
No individual may participate in more than two trials, with the exception of Trial Eight which can be undertaken by any members of the team. Each individual must also participate in at least one trial, not including the eight trial. When not otherwise specified, each trial will be undertaken by an individual participant. Equipment will be provided for some of the trials, if this applies it will be specified.
Morning to Midday-
1. Trial of Endurance- A long distance run where speed will be no more important than endurance. Magic is permitted.
2. Trial of Combat- A paired fight between teams where any fighting strategy may be employed. Magic is permitted. Two participants.
Midday to Early Afternoon
3. Trial of Cavaliers- A non-lethal jousting contest. Magic is prohibited. Suitable equipment will be provided.
4. Trial of Performance- A show of talent or some kind of performance must be demonstrated to entertain or astound the good people of Eleder. The citizens will be provided with stones to hurl at terrible performances. Magic is permitted.
Early Afternoon to Late Afternoon
5. Trial of Athleticism- A chase through and over a crowded street to re-capture the Sargavan flag. Magic is prohibited. Two participants per team.
6. Trial of Brawn- A test of pure strength and ferocity; participants must destroy as many warships of Cheliax in a given time as possible. Magic is prohibited. Suitable equipment will be provided (Greataxe or pair of Battleaxes).
Late Afternoon to Evening
7. Trial of Marksmanship- An traditional archery contest, firing against stationary targets. Magic is prohibited.
8. Trial of Teamwork- An naval battle involving every member of your team.
Many of the Trials are themed around our glorious victories over Cheliax. Remember that in addition to competing, your role is to entertain. If you are to die, die well.
Once you have read this document, please be ready to inform your Tent Attendant of your choices for the first two trials.
Time passes and Ansha finds herself heading toward the team's tent. She barely acknowledges Kieran when he first comes up alongside her, but a crooked half-smile creeps onto her lips when he speaks of his disbelief that she would go socializing only to make new friends.
That crooked half-smile is still on her face when he speaks of trailing her to keep her safe, and she quips, "This girl can take care of herself. Don't go blaming me for the dearth of drunken dwarven antics in your life, my friend."
"As for what I found out--I'm not sure how credible any of these rumors are, but it seems that there are a crew of ex-pirates among the competitors, along with a group of bounty hunters and a team of Mwangi tribesmen. Seems that there's also an adventuring company from Absalom here for the trials. The most interesting rumor, though, was that the winners have to face a 'General Morvius' in combat. If I remember right, that's one of the higher-ranking commanders in the Sargavan army."
Outside the tent, she stops and hands the soldier her token. With a wink and a smile, she slips inside.
"'Marksmanship,'" Tebati repeats, setting her finger near the bottom of the list of trials. "That is your trial, is it not, cousin? I will take one of the races: both, if none of our new teammates prove able."
N'bellocq counts off each trail on his fingers, committing each to memory as they are read aloud. Nervous all morning about what would be expected, he is relieved that he is so suited for some of the trails.
"I will propose to the group that my strengths are in the Trial of Marksmanship, number 7 and the Trial of Athleticism, number 5. But can be used elsewhere if we have a need."
"I fear I know who will win the trials of Performance and Athleticism. A troupe of elven dancers has entered. I suspect they are more than just dancers but even if they are only trained to dance that skill will serve them well moving through the athletic chase. Though one of you may well surprise them in the race."
"I fear I know who will win the trials of Performance and Athleticism. A troupe of elven dancers has entered. I suspect they are more than just dancers but even if they are only trained to dance that skill will serve them well moving through the athletic chase. Though you may well surprise them in the race Tebati."
"Are they of the Ekujae, the Kallijae, or the Alijae? Or are they northern elves?" Tebati asks with interest. "The Ekujae indeed are not to be dismissed lightly. The team of Mwangi tribesmen will prove formidable competitors as well. I wonder if any of them are relatives. I did not know there would be a team of native peoples." She shoots a look at N'bellocq, clearly wishing they had met up with the Mwangi team rather than this motley bunch.
Just having arrived in from the crowds, Ansha walks over to the table and acquiaints herself with the parchment's contents.
She glances at Jakob as he speaks. "Interesting rumors you've heard. I've heard a few others during my, um, stroll through the grounds. I think it's too early to say who will win what match. The trials have brought all kinds together to compete, including a team of bounty hunters, another of pirates and one of Mwangi tribesmen.
As an elf, though, your pessimism regarding our chances against a troupe of elven dancers is most gratifying, though," she smiles, then continues to speak.
"I am afraid that my talents are likely to be of the most use in the contest of Performance. At least it only calls for some sort of talent, and not for a dance performance. Or perhaps combat, depending on who I am paired with.
Consider, too, that we still earn points for finishing other places than first. Just because we do not earn first place in one or two trials does not mean that we will necessarily lose the overall trial."
"I fear I know who will win the trials of Performance and Athleticism. A troupe of elven dancers has entered. I suspect they are more than just dancers but even if they are only trained to dance that skill will serve them well moving through the athletic chase. Though you may well surprise them in the race Tebati.""Are they of the Ekujae, the Kallijae, or the Alijae? Or are they northern elves?" Tebati asks with interest. "The Ekujae indeed are not to be dismissed lightly. The team of Mwangi tribesmen will prove formidable competitors as well. I wonder if any of them are relatives. I did not know there would be a team of native peoples." She shoots a look at N'bellocq, clearly wishing they had met up with the Mwangi team rather than this motley bunch.
All I know are the elves are from Kyonin.
To Ansha. Yes all kinds.
I heard that a band of smugglers from Crown's End will try, strange as that sounds. People are also talking about the Freeman's brotherhood staging a raid, but I don't think security will be that lax.
Ansha's smile fades a bit at the mention of Kyonin. "Ex-pirates from the Shackles, smugglers from Crown's End, elven dancers from Kyonin. Quite the selection of competitors...."
She takes a seat on one of the stools and leans against the table. "I suppose we should start planning who we're sending to what trial then, hm?"
Ansha's smile fades a bit at the mention of Kyonin. "Ex-pirates from the Shackles, smugglers from Crown's End, elven dancers from Kyonin. Quite the selection of competitors...."
She takes a seat on one of the stools and leans against the table. "I suppose we should start planning who we're sending to what trial then, hm?"
Yes, it looks like the first are endurance and combat.
Kieran listens carefully to the rest of the group and the information they have brought before taking a moment to consider the various trials. "It would seem there are no competitions all that well-suited to my particular set of skills," he remarks with a shrug before continuing, "although I suppose I could probably lend a hand with the Trials of Performance, Athleticism or Combat. I doubt I would be the perfect fit for any of those, however."
"As for our various opponents, they certainly sound... colorful," he comments. "I have to admit that some of the teams, such as the smugglers from Crown's End, make one wonder why they would want to participate." As he finishes, he briefly turns to look at Ansha for but a moment before turning his attention to the whole party once again, a smile appearing on his face.
"Of course, we make a rather colorful group ourselves now, do we not?"
Ansha nods to Kieran, as if to indicate that she was thinking the same thing. "I think that these trials do not cater to all of our particular abilities. But we'll have to send someone to compete in all of them. Unless we're relying upon my magic in the Trial of Combat, I think my own abilities are likely put to the best use in the Trial of Performance."
She looks over to the parchment again. "But let's take this one step at a time. The first two trials are of Endurance and Combat. Who are we sending to the Trial of Endurance? And which two to the Trial of Combat? We can worry about the entrants to the other trials after those trials are over."
Tebati looks a bit sour as the group discusses where to fit in Kieran, Ansha, and Picklebeard. I thought everyone was to bring useful skills to the table; I didn't know these were mere hangers-on. It seems too late to switch teams now, however, so she will have to make the best of it. "I will run the Trial of Endurance. The elf is right: we can decide who will take part in the other trials later -- when we know how desperately we need to win."
"Don't ferget you gotta blackhammer on yer side! Me and me ancestors will give anyone or anything in that combat trial a solid kick in tha nuts! No other group gots me on it! Yessir that combats won fer sure. Ye can take them words to the Banks of Abadar! Harharhar!"
"now that me belly's gotta taste o' ale now its cravin' some glory! When's this thing start again?"
"So the tribal shamaness for the Trial of Endurance, then. And the Trial of Combat? Qhude and Picklebeard?" Ansha asks, giving Tebati's sour look an answering half-smile.
Tebati casts a dubious eye on Picklebeard and shrugs. "Dwarves have the reputation of being able to take a blow as easily as they take their liquor." You get the feeling that if she or her cousin were to be personally at risk in the contest, she'd demand greater assurance of the dwarf's prowess.
"Yes, Tebati for Endurance and Picklebeard and either Qhude or Kerian for combat. Kerian, Qhude any thoughts?
My only concern is that the other teams will have noticed that the Combat trial comes early in the day. Any competitor they can remove means one fewer to face later. If they are smart they will focus attacks on the least fighter-like of the contestants they face hoping to make future contests easier."
That means you may be in the most danger Picklebeard. Are you up for it?"
"Yes, Tebati for Endurance and Picklebeard and either Qhude or Kerian for combat. Kerian, Qhude any thoughts?
My only concern is that the other teams will have noticed that the Combat trial comes early in the day. Any competitor they can remove means one fewer to face later. If they are smart they will focus attacks on the least fighter-like of the contestants they face hoping to make future contests easier."
"Then we should put the least valuable members of the team in the Combat trial, should we not?" Tebati asks calmly. "Those whose loss would hinder us the least?"
"Assuming that you want to increase the odds that we lose the Trial of Combat, maybe," Ansha replies.
"Then we should put the least valuable members of the team in the Combat trial, should we not?" Tebati asks calmly. "Those whose loss would hinder us the least?""Yes, Tebati for Endurance and Picklebeard and either Qhude or Kerian for combat. Kerian, Qhude any thoughts?
My only concern is that the other teams will have noticed that the Combat trial comes early in the day. Any competitor they can remove means one fewer to face later. If they are smart they will focus attacks on the least fighter-like of the contestants they face hoping to make future contests easier."
"That is a way to see it. But who is least valuable? More importantly who will be least useful in the mysterious task? We do not know. So we have no one to spare. We each have our strengths though some, like myself, may appear weak at the moment. I can assure you you will be surprised in the final, and most important trial. That at least is the way I see it. If you have suggestions as to who should stand in the second trial then please let us hear them"
A small, balding colonial man enters the tent just after Jakob makes his request; judging from his fine clothes he must be some kind of official. Two soldiers escort him, flanking him in some kind of honour guard.
Have you made your choices for the first two trials? he asks cheerfully. You have... about three minutes before we need to escort the participants to their trials.
Tebati stands up as the man addresses them, unwinding the many colored glass charms from around her neck and hanging them from the supports of the tent, in preparation for the run.
He doesn't respond to Tabati's questioning of Dwarven hardiness.
That means you may be in the most danger Picklebeard. Are you up for it?"
"......up for it?" Picklebeard laughs, shaking his head side to side looking at the ground.
"...." He calls out loudly. His tone, no longer boisterous or bold.
He raises his head in a very serious manner and looks Jakob square dead in the eyes. To Jakob, you can hardly see his charcoal eyes due to his massive eyebrows and his squinty nature, but you can easily tell he is being very grave.
In a very cold, dead, loud, stern voice so everyone can hear, "I was born ready fer danger."
He holds out his hand to firmly shake Jakob's hand in a sign of agreement and understanding.
He doesn't respond to Tabati's questioning of Dwarven hardiness.
That means you may be in the most danger Picklebeard. Are you up for it?""......up for it?" Picklebeard laughs, shaking his head side to side looking at the ground.
"...." He calls out loudly. His tone, no longer boisterous or bold.
He raises his head in a very serious manner and looks Jakob square dead in the eyes. To Jakob, you can hardly see his charcoal eyes due to his massive eyebrows and his squinty nature, but you can easily tell he is being very grave.
In a very cold, dead, loud, stern voice so everyone can hear, "I was born ready fer danger."
He holds out his hand to firmly shake Jakob's hand in a sign of agreement and understanding.
"Good." Jakob takes the offered hand. "Show them hell and come back alive."
N'bellocq sidles up to Tebati as she prepares. "Keep your eyes open out there Cousin. Beware the other racers, I notice they provide no rules against cheating."
She sighs. "'Magic is permitted,'" she quotes the rules, with a nod acknowledging N'bellocq's concerns. "Shimye-Magalla's hand is on me, for good or ill; she may steer me into the storm as easily as guide me to safe harbor." She looks up at the dangling charms, glinting in the sunlight that soaks through the fabric of the tent. "It looks like home," she says a bit wistfully. "If anything should befall me, keep moving north to Nantambu. It is a better place than this. Find our people. My family is yours." She touches his face gently before moving away. "I am for the Trial of Endurance," she tells the official proudly, standing straight and tall.
"Good luck to you two," Ansha says to Tebati and Picklebeard, fishing an elaborately-illustrated fortune-teller's deck from a pouch at her belt. "Qhude?"
"I'm plannin' on it." His face turns from >:| to a slight grin.
Picklebeard waves goodbye as he makes his way to the soldiers with his teammate.
"Don't fret... I got yer back an' me ancestors got mine."
I sure hope that's enough.
"Well, I am not too shabby with a blade, if that is what you are asking, Jakob," Kieran answers, patting his Aldori sword's pommel as he does so. "That is not to say that I am as fierce a fighter as Qhude seems to be," he adds with a smile and a graceful bow of his head to acknowledge his Mwangi teammate. "Either way, I will not be shying away from the task and I will at the very least be sure to put on a good show for the good folk attending the Trials. Someone would have to, as dwarves make notoriously bad entertainers." The last part is followed by a wink at Picklebeard.
"If, however, you prefer to have me in another Trial, I suppose the Athleticism one would be a good enough fit. Not perfect, but perhaps adequate. As I said, there does not seem to be a competition that I would be particularly well-suited for, much to my disappointment I assure you."
After remaining silent through the deliberations, Qhude rises when the colonial comes for the first participants. Leaving behind most of his belongings he takes only a dagger in his belt to complement his armor and cestus. Before leaving the group he turns and faces the group, nodding curtly and walking out.
Once they are led away from the others, Qhude turns to the Dwarf "So little one, can you hold a blade steady? - or will you merely be able to lecture them on the inadequacy of their forebears?" as he adjusts the straps to his armor and rope on his cestus.
When separated from Tebati as she goes to her trial, he stops her briefly with a hand on her shoulder and states "Hamba kahle" (Polyglot for Good bye and Fare well).
"Mhmm. Sumthin' like that me boy. ha! Me clans gots a magic usin' streak in our blood and I be no exception. I don't keep Verithrex here just cuz of his good looks!"
The corner of Qhude's mouth turns up at the mention of magic... "No matter then, the strength in my arm and blood should carry us through today." then he pointedly looks down at Picklebeard's legs before adding "Try to keep up little one" before smirking.
Qhude, Picklebeard and Tebati are led off in different directions fairly promptly. As they leave the tent, they can see that the grounds for the Trials are massive and full of thousands of people; minor events and stalls are set up all over the area. This particular section seems to consist of two major features- a huge, oval shaped race track and a wooden arena in the centre of it. Further guards are drafted in as escorts as the crowd eagerly try to get to the three of you, wanting to see some of the competitors. Picklebeard and Qhude are taken inside the arena while Tebati is taken to the start of the race.
You are led through the arena corridors, through a wooden door and into some kind of antechamber. The room is essentialy threadbare, with a single table and a pair of stretchers by the iron portcullis which serves as the other exit from the room; into the arena itself. Another official of Sargava is the only other person in the room with you and he explains, hefting two scrolls-
I am required to place an enchantment upon you so the fight may last longer to please the crowd.
He goes on to explain the spell and waits for your permission to cast it before the match starts.-
As you are led to the start of the race track, you can make out that not all of the track is smooth, even ground. In the distance, you spot a 100 foot section of boggy mud that will likely prove problematic. You are given strict instructions not to deviate from the track, not to move from your start position until the whistle blows and not to cast any spells until said whistle blows. The waiting crowd has crowded the edges of the race course and it seems the race has a fantastic turnout. An announcer with a clearly magically enhanced voice begins to speak as you get your first chance to look at your five competitors. In order from left to right (5 feet apart) you have-
1. A slim, young Mwangi tribesman dressed in little more than basic cloth for modesty. He carries a longspear.
2. A lightly armoured colonial human in his early thirties, with a cutlass currently sheathed over his shoulder.
3. A foreign halfling with a well groomed mustache, dressed in fine clothing and studded leather armour with a spell component pouch upon his belt.
4. You!
5. A brawny looking half-elf in simple clothes, flexing his considerable muscle.
6. A half-orc dressed in leather armour, carrying a fairly large pouch on his belt and a bolas strapped to his shoulder. He grins wickedly.
You notice he is clutching something tightly in his left hand. Appraise or Craft (Alchemy) to identify.
The announcer, having introduced himself and warmed the crowd up, explains the cages being wheeled into position just behind your group of runners. Inside the cages are two horrible, fiendish looking creatures the size of halflings. They have horned skulls and stretched skin and each carries a spear. They also possess vulture-like wings and flap about, screeching and snarling.
"Bah, fair enough. Do whatcha need to and no more. The fight should be as even as possible. Fer their sake!"
The official casts from the scroll on Picklebeard-
Tebati returns Qhude's well wishes before they part, looking over her shoulder for a moment as she goes, hoping they will both survive their trials so that she can learn more of his story. If she could only approach him without the colonials around, he might open up.
Tebati stretches her muscles as she surveys the competition. She looks longingly at the simple dress of the Mwangi tribesman; she would love to strip off her armor and weapons to run more freely, but she hadn't trusted the colonials' intentions -- wisely, it turns out, she notes, glancing at the caged creatures. Well, while she might be more comfortable carrying less weight, there is nothing restrictive about the gear she has; if she fails in this task, she cannot blame her equipment.
Remembering the rumors her teammates brought back about the other competitors, she mentally categorizes the runners. The tribesman is obviously from the native team, and the half-elf must be one of the northern elves' party. The announcer said the halfling was from Avistan; he must be one of the adventurers. Noting his pouch, she realizes he will be enhancing his speed magically; she can only hope the hazards in the way will slow him down enough to keep her in the race. Smugglers, pirates, bounty hunters.... The colonial with the cutlass is carrying a pirate's weapon, and the half-orc could be either smuggler or bounty hunter. She is glad not to be running next to either of them; if there is to be any cheating, she would expect it to come from one of them. She fingers the smooth curves of her driftwood before tucking it away safely. Shimye-Magalla, remember me today.
Tebati recognises the flying beasts from stories told within the tribes- they are lesser host devils, or more specifically Gaavs. Fairly low ranking in devil hierarchy, they are nevertheless the superiors of both Imps and Lemures. Their small size is not indicative of their terrifying ability as pursuers- they fly like birds and possess telepathy which they use to taunt and frighten the ones they chase. Although fairly stupid, their ability to pursue is only enhanced by their ability to teleport at will and they possess other magics and abilities you cannot quite remember the details of.