Kriger will shake the man's hand freely as he grins reluctantly and one might gather a bit awkwardly. Either that or he just smiles weird. And he decides to simply nod in greeting just to be on the safe side.
Oberlin shakes the king's offered hand politely.
"I do not know about that particular title. I think anyone who actually knows anything about the arcane arts realizes how far from mastery they truly are." Oberlin says humbly.
Irovetti gives all of you a knowing smile and a firm handshake, but he is quickly whisked away by other hosts, which Nunzio, now back in his true role, introduces periodically.
The tent is yours. Courtesan seem eager to gossip and learn all about you, but the king is just quite busy at the moment. It smells of food and the clinking and shuffling of servants nearby is a sure sign that everyone will be called to a fest soon enough.
As the king is occupied, Kriger decides to hang back and keep and eye on the crowd. The ranger possessing a fantastic level of mistrust of people he don't know - well, that and the warning given him by Lothaire - he is intent on keeping a watchful eye out... probably more so on Nunzio and the king than anyone else.
You recognize several banners among the guests: Daggermark, Gralton, Mivon, and Tymon; all small states of the River Kingdoms.
As you walk the room, people take notice of you and, overall, show deep respect. Overall, that is, for at other times, you feel the weight of challenging stares. This is a tournament, after all.
At one point, you notice Irovetti's small dog is nipping at your heels. The dog looks somewhat familiar...
You notice a tall and muscular man, dressed in latest and finest barbarian fashion, giving you hard looks. This is one of the bodyguards that accompanied Irovetti-disguised-as-Nunzio when the king met you outside the camp. As you're about to turn your attention towards the man, you're distracted by the sound of laughter coming from the kitchen. The laughter's ring sounds oddly familiar, and uncomfortable...
A bell rings through the room and Nunzio's voice rises as the guests' drops. With great flourishes, he invites all the guests to move to an adjacent tent where lavishly dressed tables are revealed. Everything sparkles white and silver, with hints of warm greeneries placed on each table.
You take your seats and are offered drinks. A host of servants appear with plates and serve all the guests at the same time.
The dish served is giant frog legs. You hear a few guests gasp and look in your direction, then look away.
Malaswyn squats down and pets the dog, ”Now then, why are you so familiar, little one?”
Malaswyn squats down and pets the dog, ”Now then, why are you so familiar, little one?”
The dog licks your hand eagerly, but is otherwise unhelpful and fails to answer.
Turning his attention toward the kitchen, Kriger narrows his eyes at that all too familiar, yet, unable-to-place sound. He's just about to head in that direction until they are all forced to move into another tent to sit and eat. Blast. Where have I heard that?
Kriger digs in, unaware that he's even eating froglegs as his mind is elsewhere. As he takes a bite he leans in ever so slightly towards Malaswyn, hiding his mouth behind said frogleg as he speaks. "We've got to find our way to the kitchen, Mal, I heard a laugh." He raises his eyebrows and gives a slight nod. Taking another bite, he just now notices what he's been eating and gives a slight crinkle to his face in disgust. What is this?! I don't even like froglegs! Ugh. He looks around and notices everyone eating up contentedly. Sighing, Great. Just take one for the team, Kriger. Take one for the team. He then takes another bite and shakes his head at the bad tasting meat. The team's gonna owe me for this one. Haven't these people ever heard of steak?! You gotta be kidding me.
Oberlin muses quietly, looking over the other arcane artists. Sizing them up is what I am doing if I am honest. He barely notices the frog legs as he tries to see if he recognizes anyone from his time in Nex.
Malaswyn eats politely, "Indeed, I haven't had frog's legs for decades. Not since I was in Galt, during the Cailean Council."
He leans in to Kriger and smiles, "Oh, yes, a bit of an exploration of the kitchens is very much called for. We need to arrange a plate for Marcel."
As he chews, Malaswyn ponders Kalsgrim's introduction, It seems like we are the main event here. I wonder why? I must check in on my niece tomorrow.
Kriger glances over at Malaswyn curiously. He then begins to slowly stroke his bushy mustache while speaking. "No not food, Mal. A laugh. I heard a laugh. An all too familiar laugh. And not a good familiar either, if you know what I mean."
Malaswyn smiles and continues his hushed exchange with Kriger, "Oh, yes, but Marcel's absence conveniently means we are obliged to enter the kitchens ourselves."
At Kriger's description of the laughter, his eyes narrow for a moment, [smaller]"I have also had an uncanny sense of familiarity since arriving here."
Kalsgrim's story brings an honest smile to everyone within earshot. King Irovetti smiles and raises his glass with an approving nod.
You can detect a great displeasure in Irovetti through a minute gesture and facial expression, which he instantaneously brings under control.
You see him flash a knowing glance and a nod at the barbarian who accompanied him when he was posing as Nunzio.
The feast continues without too much else of note to report, until very late in the night.
Towards the end, Nunzio reminds everyone of the exciting tournament event scheduled for tomorrow, which should test contestants' skills with the axe!
Malaswyn drinks the minimum necessary to appear polite, and does his best to engineer a visit to the kitchens.
Once they are back home, Malaswyn tells everyone that he could detect a great displeasure in Irovetti through a minute gesture and facial expression, which he instantaneously brought under control.
I saw him flash a knowing glance and a nod at the barbarian who accompanied him when he was posing as Nunzio.
"He wants to unsettle us, it seems. It seems our neighbour is not a friendly ally... yet."
Blithely unaware of any subcurrents, Oberlin makes light conversation throughout the evening. On returning home, Oberlin joins the others in the council room before retiring for the evening.
"Irovetti is displeased? I am not surprised. Judging by what others say about him, he is exceptionally dangerous. I can't imagine that he would march troops here, but I can see him trying to ensnare the Duke in some sort of political mechanations. Perhaps using one of us as a lever to influence the Duke?"
"I am not certain that I am cut out for this particular battlefield. Reading about politics is much more palatable than sitting at a table with a potential enemy. I felt about as useless as a chicken attempting to utilize a sundial to tell time...I almost wish there had been arcane mechanations afoot at the feast, then I might have provided something."
Malaswyn nods along with Oberlin's words, "Only schemers enjoy such schemes. Do you have any magics that will help us see through schemes and get to the truth?"
"I will have true seeing if necessary, which I can use for several minutes. The remainder of my spells are a mixture spells geared towards combat or dealing with environmental challenges as they arise."
You appear the next day in your quarters, startling the sleeping servants awaiting your return. They quickly hustle and breakfast is served before you know it. The meal is simple but hearty. Thick slices of curated meats with dark bread.
Shortly after, Nunzio himself shows up to lead you to the coliseum. It is an oval shaped wooden theatre of medium size, with several rows of benches all around. These are getting filled by raucous spectators laughing and shouting. At one end it a broad entrance, at the other is a small sheltered box filled with what must be the current nobility of the River Kingdoms. The nobles are chatting among themselves.
Nunzio leads you through the main entrance, on the coliseum grounds, where five other groups of competitors are assembled around Irovetti. The king looks handsome and muscular. A crown sits comfortably on his brow, keeping his dark hair in check and falling graciously back on a luxurious coat of deep red velvet. However, his belt does not match the rest of his garments. It is thick with tools, weapons, and pouches, bespeaking an adventuring lifestyle not completely left behind.
The king also carries two strange pieces of equipment. The first and most impressive is a long staff of unusual metal, one end of which is fitted with thin blades and a spike that periodically shift and move with a soft whirring noise. The second is a thin, short rod of strange metal with a single spike at the end. Small, circular lights periodically flash along the length of this rod.
He greets you with a disarming smile, asking you how the view over the Royal Blue, the pond adjacent to your tent, was this morning. He goes over the different teams present, representing different River Kingdoms: Daggermark has four participants, Gralton has four as well, Mivon too boasts four, Tymon has three, and Pitax has only two.
Irovetti says to the other teams with a bantering tone: "Looks like Frieland has you outnumbered! Better forfeit while you still can!" and all laugh nervously.
Except for one, whose laughter rises loud and high. If you did not recognize the face, then you recognized the voice and, worse, the laughter. It is Grigori, a troublemaker who once tried to rouse the Frieland populace against its leaders... And he is on Pitax team alongside the barbarian bodyguard with the big axe...
Narrowing his eyes, he leans in near Malaswyn again. "THAT was the laugh I heard. And apparently he's hired a toy guard to protect him. Boy is he stupid. He should've hired ten. Because that surely won't be enough to keep me from cutting them both down to nothing without even breaking a sweat. Rookies."
Malaswyn leans in, "That's laughing boy? You can't really kill him here, not unless he goes for you first. He's hiding behind Irovetti as well as the bodyguard. That's why he's laughing. Don't give him the pleasure."
Once more, Irovetti takes pains to single out Frieland. Does he perceive us to be a threat?
Oberlin narrowed his eyes against the dawn light streaming into the colosseum. What are those? The one with the glowing lights looks something like a Numerian magical item. The other, the staff might be one too.
"Kriger, while I agree with the enthusiasm, I would remind you that the man on the throne across from us, perhaps through different auspices than our Duke, is someone who earned a kingdom through strength and guile. Our Duke made something from nothing, while he, it sounds like, stole a kingdom. Tricks, deception, mind-control, illusions, enchantment and a poisoned knife when least expected, I expect that to be his main weapons.", he whispers quietly to the hot blooded warrior before sitting back up and focusing on the items that Irovetti carried.
Kriger cuts his eyes between Malaswyn and Oberlin and sighs quietly. "Fine. But I'll still be keeping an eye out."
Grigori hides his displeasure and tries to look like he doesn't know what Kalsgrim is talking about, but his colour turns slightly towards crimson nonetheless.
Irovetti bids you good luck and goes to his box.
Then Nunzio steps in and with a thunderous voice announces: "THE TEST OF THE AXE!!! Bring forth the logs!!!"
A number of servants come in, carrying heavy logs and line six in front of each delegation. Another servant hands you a very sharp looking axe (masterwork).
Nunzio continues: "For one minute, one member of each delegation must try to cut through as many logs as possible. The winner is the one who has cut through the greatest number of logs. For the broader tournament, know that each log cut is worth five points! Only the axes proffered can be used to cut the logs. Spells and incantations are allowed, but only after the start of the event, and only by the designated contestant! Get readyyyyyy!"
One member from each delegation grabs their axe and approaches the first log.
1-Foot-Thick Log (AC 3; hardness 5; hp 120): Each log that is fully destroyed grants the contestant 5 points. Each log that is merely damaged grants only 2 points.
Kriger steps up and takes the greataxe as his chosen weapon. Standing the weapon upon its shaft as he holds it steady between his knees, he spits on his hands and rubs them together before reaffirming his grip upon the blade. Getting a firm grip, he awaits the start call. As soon as he hears it... the ranger is off!
Finally finishing off the first log, Kriger quickly moves to the second one.
Frustrated from losing his grip due to sweaty palms during his previous attack, Kriger figures that's probably going to cost him as he moves on to the next one.
Kriger rolls his eyes as his slippery hands are failing him miserably. Nevertheless, he continues on relentlessly.
As he FINALLY obliterates the log, he hurries to the next one.
Unable to bust that last log, Kriger goes on a swearing tirade and mightily buries the axe blade into the ground - seeing that's all he can really hit anyway - before making his way back over to the others and resorting to cursing under his breath while he does so.
Kriger does a great show of timing his cut to never skip a beat. If only his axe would stay steady in his hands! The crowd jeers at him, but his mastery nevertheless wins them over. 17 points for Frieland!
The champion for Daggermark is a small woman. She shouts her name to the crowd: yegina Varudu. The crowd explodes in laughter at her size and frailty. However, when the signal is given, instead of hacking, she starts casting powerful incantations. She and her axe grow, and her clumsiness with the axe is replaced by warrior-like skills, while her speed seems to double. Then she cuts, and cuts, with amazing speed. The transformation takes the crowd and they start cheering for her! She manages to cut through two logs and to dent a third, for 12 points!
The contestant for Gralton is a woodmsan named Kilbaskian Ord. He asks for handaxes, which makes the crowd taunt him. He struggles at first but seems to nevertheless keep a good, if slow pace. Yet, just before Nuzio's call, the Graltonian throws his axes and damages two more logs. The crowd explodes in an uproar, followed by heavy debating. Some fists are thrown, but it all calms down eventually, with Nunzio giving Gralton 16 points!
The Mivonian contestant is a mean-looking Dwarven female warrior, clad soberly. She looks so powerful that the crowd opts to remain silent. She works steadily and expertly, cutting through four logs before the whistle. 20 points for Mivon!
Finally Nunzio announces the name of Pitax's contestant, the great Villlamor Koth! The crowd erupts in cheers. The barbarian does not disappoint and cuts through four logs in no time, then lands his axe in a fifth log just before the whistle. Pitax wons the day with 22 points! The crowd is wild and the box erupts in chatter and congratulations around King Irovetti, who gives his favourite warrior a warm smile.
Villamor takes the good will of the crowd with a defiant smile, calling to the crowd for cheers, then flexing his muscles in response, which sends the crowd into frenzy! He takes a moment to give a long defiant and wicked look at Kriger, pointing his finger directly at the ranger, which gets the crowd to sneer at the Frielanders.
King Irvetti stands and the crowd slowly hushes: "As the great Rushlight Tournament resumes its first contest, Pitax leads with 22 points! Followed by Mivon with 20 points, Frieland with 17 points, Gralton with 16 points, and Daggermark closes with 12 points, and the invaluable lesson: never send a wizard to do a warrior's job!"
"We will let the delegation rest until dinner later tonight, where we will celebrate today's heroics and discuss tomorrow's challenge, which, I am told, involves arrows!!!" and he gives Kalsgrim a quick glance.
Kriger just stands there next to the others with his arms crossed. He gives no visual reaction to the taunting barbarian and his victory. Kriger then nonchalantly turns his attention toward the others. "You know, I've a pretty good feeling I'm going to be killing that one," he whispers candidly, turning his attention back to the barbarian as he walks off all smugly. Kriger can't help but quietly shake his head in frustration. We'll see how good you are when I've buried my axe in your skull.
There's a fair bit of celebrating in the colosseum after the events. People in the rows argue and laugh about the events and the strategies competitors used. Some of them come to say hi, congratulate you, and ask about your new duchy, happy to hear the tale of Frieland from the mouths of those who built it.
Malaswyn makes sure to congratulate each of their competitors on their efforts and congratulates anyone who was gracious (in victory or defeat) on their sporting nature.
Kalsgrim claps Kriger on the shoulder and says "Well done. But I'm sure if those were trolls and not logs, you would have waded right through them!"
Kriger cuts his eyes toward Kalsgrim and eventually relaxes... but only a little. "Alright, alright. Thanks, Chief. I still should've won though," he reaffirms, far too proud to believe anything less.
Oberlin congratulates Kriger, "A good showing! Remember that these events are likely selected to show Pitax's strengths, not ours."
"Is there any way we can find out what the various competitions are? It seems a bit too much of an advantage to Pitax if they don't even share what other events are possible. He didn't say that the same member of the delegation couldn't try to complete an event, however." Oberlin says then continues sourly, "It will be difficult for mages to participate if we don't have some significant knowledge of what the event is supposed to entail beforehand."