They then turn their backs on the elf and go silent.
Solaufyn grits his teeth. "I see. Have a good day, then."
He realizes that he will likely have to contact Marshall Velthundle another way. In time.
(RTB) "My venture certainly did not work out. How are the rest of you faring?"
(RTB) "I'll explain at the Circus or tonight at the Gryphon. Communicating through this spell is making my eyes itch. Is that normal?"
(RTB) "Still looking for that church."
(RTB) "I'll explain at the Circus or tonight at the Gryphon. Communicating through this spell is making my eyes itch. Is that normal?"
(RTB) "Your eyes itch? I have never experienced nor learned of that happening before."
(RTB)"Yes. Maybe I just have to get used to this. Where are you headed next?"
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Mortifice makes his way back across town to the local temple of Mayaheine, a place called the Maiden's Shield, located directly next to the East Citadel (where Flynt currently is meeting with Captain Ren). It is a relatively small, but quite impressive two-story building with a round roof, and a large, rounded front door.
After a bit of knocking a female human warrior dressed in the colors of the Shield Maiden answers the door by opening a small viewing port at eye level. "Yes," she intones seriously, "may I help you?"
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Flynt walks back to the Circus in the southern part of town, passing through Qualtaine Square in the process. By the look of things, the workers at the Temple of Pelor have cleaned up most of the mess from the accident earlier in the morning. When Cyram (the worker Flynt saved) sees the ranger across the square, he breaks into a smile and waves at him. He quickly tells the other workers about the Rhenee and they break out in cheers as well, stopping their work to clap and shout their thanks.
Flynt takes in the applause and bows like he was an actor in a play. Tobias does some aerial maneuvers in the sky.
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The workers applaud, and even a few passers by on their way to the temple look up and point at the raptor's impressive aerial acrobatics. As Flynt heads south out of the square the applause and cheers behind him die down as everyone gets back to work.
A few blocks later the ranger is back at the impressive edifice of the Circus. At first, the walls are nothing but a singularly massive, blinding sheet of white marble gleaming in the sun, but gradually individual features resolve themselves. The third story rings the building with lancet arches, each containing a statue of a champion from the areana's history. On the top story, turrets fly banners of the major stables that fight in the Circus. The Grand Gate, the arena's main entrance, seems to have just been opened by a few men who are talking with another group of teamsters who are leading a large covered wagon pulled by a four-horse team.
Since the group was there this morning, a produce market has been set up in the middle of the small square in front of the Circus' grand gate, and is doing some business. Most of the goods are the usual early spring crops: green onions, winter cabbage, and young greens, but other, most exotic fare can be found here as well. Green grocers, criers, beggars, vintners, cobblers, weavers all vend and toil in this open-air market. Suddenly, a bony black spike the length of his forearm splits a cabbage not two feet from Flynt's head. A panicked hue rises behind him.
"What the hell?"
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The door at the back of the wagon Flynt had seen being pushed toward the Grand Gate of the Circus flies open, and most of the cover falls off, revealing a large iron cage. Inside the cage, an irate manticore is struggling vainly against its neck restraint that chains it to the floor of the wagon. Unsuccessful at this, it howls in frustration and leaps into the air out of the back of the wagon, its blood-red bat wings grasping at air as it gains altitude. Its flight is checked as the chain snaps tight after about 50 feet, causing the wagon it is anchored to to buck violently and momentarily lift it a foot off the ground. The horses at the far end behind to panic and pull the wagon in four different directions. This is followed by another great roar from the manticore, this time much more understandable. "Release Gar!!!" it screams in Common. To accentuate its point, it releases a volley of tail spikes that strike amongst the quickly dispersing market crowd. Flynt is unsure whether they hit someone or not.
The teamsters who had been pulling the wagon stare up at the beast, clearly in shock and with no clue of what to do next. They are carrying truncheons and wearing leather armor.
"Time for the mid-card match." Flynt draws an arrow with what looks like it has a tiny boxing glove for a tip. He draws his bow, nocks the arrow and fires it.
After missing wildly, he signals for Tobias to fly high into the atmosphere.
Round 2
Tobias charges straight at the manticore, the velocity building every second.
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Flynt's arrow seems to get the manticore's attention. "Stupid human with bow!" it shouts at the top of its lungs, "I hate stupid humans with bows!" It flies about and turns its body, whipping its spiked tail in a sharp arc before unleashing a volley of four black spikes at the ranger. One of them glances his leg, inflicting minor damage ().
"Ow. You'll pay for that." Flynt whistles for Tobias to charge. He then raises his bow and rapidly fires off more blunt arrows.
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Tobias diving charge takes the wind out of the manticore, tearing a small gash in its right flank. Flynt's arrows strike true, knocking the creature in the head. His third arrow knocks it unconscious and it comes crashing down, demolishing a two merchant stands as it hits the dirt plaza with a dull crunch.
Flynt walks over to check on it. "Who's bright idea was it to chain a manticore to a wooden wagon?" Flynt asks out loud. Tobias flutters for a moment, squawks, and flys back up to patrol the skies. He puts his bow away and looks around to see if anyone is hurt.
(RTB):"So i just took on a manticore. Apparently some genius thought it would be a good idea to lock one in a flimsy cage."
(RTB):"A what?! Was anyone hurt?"
(RTB):"A what?! Was anyone hurt?"
(RTB) "A manticore? I take it this means that the pit fighting utilizes actual monsters.
(RTB)"His spikes felt real so it looks that way. I don't think anyone was hurt, besides me. More collateral damage than anything."
(RTB):"Boris and I are leaving here soon. I will meet you there."
After a bit of knocking a female human warrior dressed in the colors of the Shield Maiden answers the door by opening a small viewing port at eye level. "Yes," she intones seriously, "may I help you?"
"My name is Mortifice, a priest of the Shield Maiden." Mortifice gestures to reveal his holy symbols.
"May I come in? I am travelling and would like to visit the church."
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"My name is Mortifice, a priest of the Shield Maiden." Mortifice gestures to reveal his holy symbols.
"May I come in? I am travelling and would like to visit the church."
The woman behind the door takes a few seconds to look Mortifice over and glances at his holy symbol. Finally the sliding peephole closes and Mortifice hears numerous locks and bolts being undone inside. The door opens smoothly and gestures for the half-orc to come inside.
The vestibule of the Maiden's Shield is quite spartan, containing only a few pegs to hang one's clothes on. Several white and blue tabards decorated with the inverted bastard sword of Mayaheine hang on these hooks; a few benches also line the walls.
After she finishes locking and barring the front door, the female warrior gestures to the garments. "You may change out of your worldly possessions here, priest. Lady Miskmatar will call you when she is ready for you." Without waiting for a response, she turns and leaves out of the vestibule's other door.
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Flynt walks over to check on it. "Who's bright idea was it to chain a manticore to a wooden wagon?" Flynt asks out loud. Tobias flutters for a moment, squawks, and flys back up to patrol the skies. He puts his bow away and looks around to see if anyone is hurt.
1d20 + 22
It looks as if the people in the market were spared any serious injury, although there are quite a few bruises, cuts, and scrapes, but those seem to be a result of the panic caused by the manticore.
The teamsters who had been transporting the creature are still trying to calm the horses down and seem to be having some difficulty. The horses still have the scent of the enraged manticore in their nostrils and their eyes are wide in panic, foam collecting at the corners of their mouths.
Flynt will do his best to calm the horses down.
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Flynt will do his best to calm the horses down.
1d20 + 8
The Rhenee walks up to the panicked horses, speaking in low, soft tones and gestures. Within 30 seconds he is able to get the horses under control, and return their leads to the teamsters. These men thank Flynt profusely for bringing the horses under control, but mostly for dealing with the escaped manticore.
"We thought we had him under lock and key," a tall teamster confides, "we don't know what we would have done if you hadn't been for you." More workers from the Circus have joined the teamsters, who help load the unconscious manticore back into the cage and attach a new lock.
A boy with eyes as big as a mace's head and a leather training belt five sizes too big for his waist pushes forward out of the admiring crowd that has gathered around Flynt and the manticore cage.
"Wow!" he exclaims. "That was great! Can you come with me to Stable Achillia? I can pay you. We really need help, and a warrior like you could really be a great help!"
Tanith comes jogging up to the assembled crowd with Boris in tow. The Kordite relaxes when he sees everything is in hand.
"That's twice today you've been there to save the day", Tanith says. "The city is lucky to have you."
"Who is the boy?", he asks of the boy with the ill-fitted equipment.
"Just take more care next time." Flynt is about the address the boy when Tanith arrives. "Apparently he has a job for me. Have you ever heard of Stable Achilla?"
"Yes. They were a prominent stable when I was a boy, before this monster-fighting business began. I'm certain they could get us an audience with Atafrix."
"Besides, how can the Hero of Istivin deny a request from those in need?", Tanith says as he wraps an burly arm around Flynt's shoulders.
"Yea, I guess you're right. Lead the way kid."
Seeing Flynt's injury and the wounded among the crowd, Tanith calls everyone closer to him.
“Closer, gather around everyone. This is not a time for fear or pain. This is a time to take heart! Join me in the strength prayer… give homage to the Brawler! Show your strength and resolve to Him and His strength will shine pack on you like the light of the sun!”
“By Kord! We have only one life! Will we go half-asleep in it?! Or will we take our place in the world, as Kord tells us, even if many - even the armies of giants oppose us?!"
Tanith undoes the bracer covering his thick right forearm. He holds the limb up so all can see the intricate brightly colored tattoo. The marking glows brightly showering everyone in invigorating light.
"This is the gift of Kord to us! The courage and strength to endure - to learn from our trials and grow stronger with each day!"
(RTB)"Flynt and I are going to enter the Circus to speak to one of the regular groups. If you're coming, look for Stable Achillia when you get here."
"Ever the showman, aren't you?"
"I'm just a man that takes pride in the teachings of his patron", Tanith fires back with a grin.
"How's your leg?"
"Obviously. The leg's fine, thanks for the heal."
"Give your thanks to the Brawler."
Tanith calls Boris over so the pair can head into the Circus.
"Thanks to him too then." Flynt will do the same with Tobias. The red-tailed hawk flies down and lands Boris' back.
Mortifice changes out of his street clothes and into the garb of the priests. He then takes a seat and waits patiently for Lady Miskmata.
(RTB) "Something seems out of sorts at the Church of Mayaheine. I'm waiting to speak to the head priestess to try to get a feel for what's happening."
Tanith laughs as the raptor catches a ride on Boris's back.
"Tobias is getting lazy in his old age."
(RTB) "Something seems out of sorts at the Church of Mayaheine. I'm waiting to speak to the head priestess to try to get a feel for what's happening."
(RTB) "I see... I will join you in awhile, Mortifice. See what you can learn. I will see if I can learn anything about why the military is on alert today."
Solaufyn makes his way across town towards the Church of Mayaheine. Along the way, though, he meanders a bit, in order to soak in the sights and see if he can identify anything else strange about the state of Istivin. Ideally, he'll stop at a nice-looking establishment for a slice of cherry pie (as promised!) and ask around about what has the military so on-edge.
"He just helped subdue a manticore. He deserves a little break."
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Seeing Flynt's injury and the wounded among the crowd, Tanith calls everyone closer to him.
“Closer, gather around everyone. This is not a time for fear or pain. This is a time to take heart! Join me in the strength prayer… give homage to the Brawler! Show your strength and resolve to Him and His strength will shine pack on you like the light of the sun!”
“By Kord! We have only one life! Will we go half-asleep in it?! Or will we take our place in the world, as Kord tells us, even if many - even the armies of giants oppose us?!"
Tanith undoes the bracer covering his thick right forearm. He holds the limb up so all can see the intricate brightly colored tattoo. The marking glows brightly showering everyone in invigorating light.
4d6
"This is the gift of Kord to us! The courage and strength to endure - to learn from our trials and grow stronger with each day!"
The people in the small market seem to drink the Kordson's blessing up like parched soil thirsts for water. A few of the common folk come up to him afterwards and ask for a blessing. Two separate merchants also approach Flynt and thank him personally, pressing small sums of money into his hands in thanks for having saved their business ().
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A few minutes later a middle-aged woman in vestments appeared, flanked by the warrior Mortifice had met earlier. She has dark-brown hair and brown eyes, and quite a stern look about her. "Greetings ... sir," she states with barely-concealed frustration, "I am Sarai Miskmatar, head priestess of Mayaheine here in Istivin. How may I help you? My Valiant didn't catch your name. Who are you and what do you need of the Shield Maiden?"
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Flynt and Tanith follow the boy in the over-sized training belt through the Grand Gate into the Circus. The narrow tent labyrinth of the market outside gives way to open space, and the grand arena known as the Circus looms into view. At first, the walls are nothing but a singularly massive, blinding sheet of white marble gleaming in the sun, but gradually individual features resolve themselves. The third story rings the building with lancet arches, each containing a statue of a champion from the arena's history. On the top story, turrets fly banners of the major stables that fight in the Circus. Wide ramps soar up the walls, where concessionaires trundle carts up and down, shouting their wares during events.
Overriding everything else is the impression of size. Tanith heard rumors during his childhood that twenty krakens with tentacles spread wide could not encompass the walls of the mighty arena. The formidable building is the sort of structure that makes such tales seem true--a larger than life arena built for larger-than-life heroes.
The boy continues to lead them past the entrance to the arena from the training halls below, which is no less impressive. The wall's building blocks are taller than two longswords and just as wide. You smell sweat and oil from the locker rooms below, and the clang of steel on steel resounds from sparring chambers. The Circus throbs with activity.
The entrance tunnel to the arena is enormous; deep claw-scratches in the marble tell of the chained beasts dragged into the arena to fight the mighty champions who make their living in front of the crowds. Halfway into the tunnel, a portcullis bars the entrance to the arena floor itself, leaving open only narrow passages up into the stands.
The boy leads the way up to the spectator seats. Once again the bright light of the sun is nearly blinding, reflecting off the vast expanse of sand that covers the arena floor. Archery targets, portable paddocks, weapon racks, and armor trunks are scattered haphazardly across the giant fighting floor. Wooden bleachers on marble tiers rise high into the air behind you. Thousands of fans could fit in this amphitheater. Sixty feet overhead, chains creak as they support the hanging, enclosed luxury seats known as the Cloud Boxes.
A table is set up in the sand at the near end of the arena floor, just over the marble rail from where you emerge. At the table sit an orange-haired fat man, an imposing fighter in fancy full plate, and a woman with three braids in her hair. In front of the table, two bare-chested men are screaming at each other. "That's right! I hope you're a rust monster, because you're going to eat my sword!"
Tanith happily offers Kord's blessings to any that would wish it - strength and vigor to face the trials of today and the courage to seek out more tomorrow.
He also informs them that the Brawler saves the greatest blessings for those that earn them, by growing their bodies and developing their strength. Any that wish to, can meet Tanith in the morning outside the Gryphon to join him in his daily fitness routine.
***
Tanith enters a state of child-like awe as he's lead into the bowels of the Circus. This was truly a structure worthy of Kord's praise, all towering walls of mighty stone and iron. When he's lead out onto the sand, the Kordite can barely contain his excitement.
Tanith looks on at confusion at the screaming men and the those watching them. He silently hoped he was about to see his first Circus-battle from the ground floor.
"Who are they?", he asks of the boy.
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The boy points to the fat man with the orange hair first, and whispers "That is Commissioner Atafrix Dardenell, he runs the Circus." He then somewhat subtly points to the large man in full plate, "That is Volpone Venazzi. He is the boss of the Sand Net stable and he fights under the name "The Keeper". The lady is Thel Achillia. She's my boss and leads the Achillia stable." The boy signals the woman he had just mentioned, who looks up and nods to him.
With some excitement, the boy turns to Flynt and Tanith. "She'll see you after this fight." He begins pulling the two much-larger men into the stands. "Let's wait here and watch the tryout."
Tanith nods in understanding and then studies the Achillia stablemaster as he's lead towards the stands.
"What's to be the contest? Wrestling? Boxing?"
Solaufyn is disappointed with this finding. Perhaps he had grown a bit too used to the Fey Lands, where spring and summer are places instead of times of year, and traveling between them is as simple as following the path.
He cannot bring himself to eat a meat pie, however, no matter what Tanith said about them. To him, such a creation is a culinary contradiction.
He will, regardless, stop at a nice-looking establishment for a meal and ask around about what has the military so on-edge.