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Mal finishes his dinner and wonders what else is formally planned before the assembled contestants rest for the evening.
You've been an extreme boon Marthysan, thank you. I'm also glad that our competition won't include one of the most famous champions of the Inheritor.
We'll have to do our best to curry favor with the crowd, and I can't speak for my comrades, but I've never surrendered yet, and I don't intend to start here.
Marthysan's suite is well appointed and you each have a lush but tastefully decorated bedroom with views of the bay. When you rise in the morning and throw open the shutters on your windows, it looks as if all of the village of New Harbor wakes before dawn. Even as the dull orange sun creeps slowly over the eastern horizon, the fishermen have already crowded into their boats. They move swiftly, like blackened silhouettes dancing against dawn’s watercolor pallet, eerily silent except for the shuffling of ropes and oars, and the caws of their trained cormorants.
Marthysan awaits you at the breakfast. "Eat up, but be quick about it. You don't want to miss the opening exhibition. I'll see you there."
While the breakfast is simple, the food is fresh and tasty. Finding your way to the Grand Pavilion poses no challenge, as you find a steady stream of boats carrying contestants and observers who can afford passage across the bay to the seaside arena, while droves of locals follow the coastal path to the pavilion.
The Grand Pavilion and surrounding fairgrounds lie deep within the cove, and feature a massive and elaborate combat arena specifically constructed for the tournament. Scores of colorful tents cram the grounds spreading from the wood almost to the water. A line of spectators stretches from the Grand Pavilion, waiting to enter the arena. Contestants are given priority, and red- and orange-clad monks usher the eclectic collection of warriors and battlemages into the bowels of the arena. But before you are brought into the Grand Pavilion fight floor itself to stand before the Emissary, each of you is given a contract to sign. It states:
• The commands of the Emissary and his agents are to be obeyed at all times, and the
Emissary's word is final. None shall take violent action against the Emissary or his agents.
• No contestant may leave Xielan Island until the conclusion of the tournament for any reason.
• Once a round has begun, no contestant may receive any aid, be it magical or mundane, from anyone not
participating in the round as a contestant.
• Should any contestant yield to a foe and forfeit the battle, failure of other contestants to honor that forfeit
will result in immediate disqualification.
• No contestant shall loot the body of a fallen foe.
• All contestants agree that there shall be no ties; only one
team may be named the champions.
There is a place to sign and date the contract at the bottom. A monk stands by each of you, dressed as an agent of the Emissary, ready to bear witness of your signature or placing your mark on the appropriate line.
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Mal wakes early to practice his Toragian rituals and martial katas as he does every morning and asks the Forgefather to bless him in the day’s contests. He then brews his custom draught, samples it and proceeds to the grand pavilion.
Immediately before leaving with his group he says I’d imagine most combatants in this tournament will have a limited reach. I can use magic to augment mine, which will make me into a bulwark that they must get past before they can attack any of you. I suspect this will make it easier for Jeras to find a flank, and Flora can ensure that foes won’t want to remain at a distance. If we face ranged or spell casting combatants we’ll need to advance, but that would be my first preference if no one has another strategy they prefer.
I intend to offer quarter to our fellow contestants, I’ll deal non lethal damage unless they’re resistant to such. I take no disadvantages for doing so and I don’t ask you to do the same.
He signs and dates the contract and awaits further announcements of matches to come.
Feel free to discuss strategy, etc, as something you would've done night before, or this morning over breakfast.
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Daathiel is a spontaneous caster (bard) so does not prepare spells.
"I will normally begin by giving advice on our opponents and also casting a spell such as Haste. After that, I might resort to using my wand of True Strike combined with my whip to disarm or trip foes, or use magic to counter enemy casters or archers. I will fly to keep out of reach of grounded foes."
He signs the contract.
There is no published schedule and asking any of the Emissary monks gets a canned reply, "The Emissary declares who shall fight when, as it should be." You get no other reply about any other questions, other than referring to the terms of the contract before you, and bowing to the Emissary's will.
Once all four members of your team have signed the contracts, 2 of the Emissary's monks leads your team into the fight stage of the Grand Pavilion, where you find many other contestants already assembled, each waiting patiently, watching performer acrobats entertain the growing crowd as the audience files into the grandstands. In addition to the 3 contestants you saw last night in the Noodle House, you see Risha smirking from the corner. She offers a mocking salute when your eyes meet. There are just a few among the very large crowd of contestants.
Judge's Box: You see a small ziggurat whose terraces bloom with flowering cherry trees and white lotus flowers. Last night you heard about how, during matches, the Emissary sits in a great wooden throne carved with the faces of 1,000 kami atop this ziggurat. The throne is sheltered by a bright red canopy from which flow dozens of colorful banners. Flanking the stairs to the raised dais are a pair of menacing foo lion statues, rumored to be powerful guardian spirits that spring to life to defend the Emissary should he ever be threatened. Behind the throne you see a couple of stairwells that descend into the stone ziggurat—clearly it must be some kind of respite or offices for the Emissary.
Competitors’ Entrances: Competitors use these passages to enter and depart from the arena. Each has a private alcove where contenders can prepare for their upcoming fights.
Common Entrances: Red-lacquered torii gates flank the main entrances into the arena, and are decorated with paper lanterns and prayer chimes. Clearly these are the Common Entrances, where the audience enters.
Grandstands: Great earthen tiers support wooden benches that serve as grandstands for the common spectators. The grandstands are hemmed in by blossoming plum trees and artistically placed boulders.
Water Pyramid?: A 15-foot-tall stone pyramid has stairs at either side of a central channel cut down the face that empties into a deep trough of water.
The acrobats finish their routine with an impressive flourish, then they head for the contestant entrances as a hush settles over the crowd and all eyes turn expectantly toward the judges box. The red curtains enclosing the kami throne part, revealing three figures.
In the center, sitting upon the kami throne, clearly must be the Emissary. To his left sits your host and reigning champion of the Ruby Phoenix Tournament, Marthysan the Righteous. To the Emissary's right is an oni named Kiang Zhen. Standing like motionless statues behind the three are a dozen qinggong monks—the Emissary's mystic disciples and bodyguards. As all watch rapt, the Emissary rises and addresses the crowd.
“I am Sifu Xho Nuo—Emissary of the Ruby Phoenix Tournament and guardian of the legacy of Hao Jin, the once immortal sorceress in whose name you are gathered here to battle. To honor the Grandmaster’s legacy, I stand before you to carry out her final will: the thirty-first decennial Ruby Phoenix Tournament. Without further delay, we begin our first round of the contest. May the worthiest win!”
Upon his final words, the crowd erupts into clamorous applause. The Emissary waits with infinite patience for the clamor to die down before raising his hands.
"For the opening bout of the thirty-first decennial Ruby Phoenix Tournament, we shall have the Monks of the Enduring Spirit versus...the Indefatigable Pathfinders!"
As the crowd erupts in another raucous cheer, most of the contestants scatter for their respective seats or positions throughout the pavilion. Your ushered by a couple of the Emissary's minions to one end of the fight stage, while the four Monks of the Enduring Spirit ready themselves on the other side of the area enclosed by the protective Wall of Force. You see one carries a seven-branched sword, one wields a meteor hammer, and the remaining 2 carry monk's spades.
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Daathiel casts four spells and uses one wand charge in his preparation:
Heroism, Heightened Awareness, Mirror Image ( images), and Grand Destiny.
He uses a charge of Bestow Grace from his wand (now at 27 charges; +Cha, so +6, sacred bonus to all saves for 4 minutes).
He takes to the air (15' up), holding his wand of True Strike in one hand.
If anybody else would like Heroism he can spare the spell slots and prep time.
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Mal flies into the arena, casting protective wards upon on himself from wands, .
Immediately prior to the bout starting he uses his ioun stone to further augment his abilities, . He then steels himself for the battle to begin.
On Mal’s turn he will step forward to intercede any foes tries to reach his allies, instantly enter into Crane Style, fly 5’ off the ground, and swiftly activating the blue scarf he holds to further enlarge his reach. He then readies to strike the first foe to come within his reach.
The Monks bow respectfully to the Emissary. Then they turn to you and offer you all a courteous and respectful bow.
The Emissary chops his hand downward, shouting, "BEGIN!"
Then he sits down upon his kami throne.
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Daathiel identifies the opponents as (presumably) human.
"Humans! You know the weak points, the solar plexus, the throat, the kidneys..."
Naturalist (Ex): An archivist who has identified a creature with a Knowledge check appropriate to its type can use performance to share strategies for defeating it with allies in combat. The archivist and any allies within 30 feet gain a +1 insight bonus to AC and on attack rolls and saving throws against extraordinary, supernatural, and spell-like abilities used by creatures of that specific kind of monster (e.g., frost giants, not all giants or all humanoids). This bonus increases by +1 at 5th level and every six levels thereafter. This language-dependent ability requires visual and audible components.
This grants everybody a +3 insight bonus to AC and attack rolls. Humans as a type do not have (Ex), (Su), or (Sp) abilities, and I believe it doesn't apply to the saves for class-based abilities.
He also casts Haste.
ACTIVE PARTY BUFFS: Naturalist +3, Haste
You hear only a smattering of snickers at Flora's errant attack; it's certainly not the first time the crowd has witnessed first-round jitters. There are also a few jeers that drift down at your defensive posturing, but for the most part, the crowd reeks of indifferent anticipation.
The monk with the meteor hammer arches an eyebrow and nods to the monk with the purple sash. He charges at Flora, raising his monk's spade while screaming an ear-splitting "ya!"
Before he reaches Flora, Mal lashes out with his readied attack, then follows up with a swift kick of opportunity. Both blows hit, but the monk is undeterred.
He slashes down at Flora with the edge of his spade. His efforts prove...ineffectual. After a bit of a cheer for Mal's attacks, there's an audible "awww" when the monk's attack misses.
Meteor hammer man nods to the monk in the blue sash who also wields a spade. He charges Jeras and attacks. Again, Mal lashes out with an backhand of opportunity, his long reach drawing "oooo" from the crowd. The blue-sashed monk's spade strikes home against Jeras, drawing some blood, along with a few cheers.
Meteor hammer nods to seven-branched swordman. He moves up with a little more care, not that it does him much good, as Mal continues to dish out his opportunistic punishment. While he draw blood from the third monk, that monk twists his blade in a blur of motion, and both of Jeras' daggers go flying through the air to drop at his feet. The crowd roars its approval.
Finally, the monk with the meteor hammer acts. He charges forward, eating yet another attack of opportunity from Mal as he attempts to whip his meteor hammer around Jeras' legs in an attempt to trip him. His attack proves much less effective than Mal's.
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Mal confidently gives a cheer to the audience in the arena as he strikes the Monks coming in to strike his teammates
He proceeds to unleash a flurry of attacks upon the first combatant to rush in
He seems a bit uneasy in the arena, easily missing two otherwise easy strikes for himself. He attempts to compose himself infront of the crowd.
The crowd roars it's approval at Mal's readied strike drawing "first blood."
His flurry of attacks stagger the monk in the purple sash, though a couple of blows miss badly...perhaps his caution in trying to only inflict nonlethal damage has thrown off his aim. The crowd forgives his first miss, but hiss their disapproval at his second.
Flora quickly finishes off the purple monk, then creates a couple of gaping wounds on the green monk, who's looking a little green and sickly after taking those wounds. But he remains on his feet.
Having been wounded in the first round by Jeras, the green one drops under Flora's assault.
Seeing their friends subdued with some nonlethal blows, although a bit bloodily, the two remaining monks nod with approval and switch to dealing nonlethal damage through a flurry of unarmed strikes.
The monk in the blue sash takes a five-foot step to stand over his fallen comrade before resuming his assault on Jeras, opening with a stunning roundhouse aimed for Jeras head.
Thanks to the insight provided by his archivist teammate, Jeras emerges unscathed, ducking the roundhouse in the nick of time.
But then the remaining monk steps into the flank and unleashes his own torrent of flying blows. Jeras continues to buck and weave, avoiding most of the assault until finally one elbow catches him on the nose, drawing a little blood despite it's nonlethal intent.
Jeras wipes his nose with the back of his hand and looks down at the blood. He smiles and unleashes a series of slashes of his own. Again, he's aided by the insight shouted by his archivist friend, switching his grip with his offhand and managing to land a few more of his blows, including one that penetrates deep into the monk's liver. Though bleeding from wounds all over his body, he does remain on his feet.
The crowd's excitement grows as Mal's flurry quickly drops the Red-sashed monk and pummels the Blue Monk.
Daathiel's whip cracks impressively, it's snap echoing through the arena. The lone monk that was still standing...is standing no more. Despite the efficient and effective maneuver, the crowd seems unimpressed...perhaps they were hoping for more of a fight.
The crowd roars its approval at Mal downing the red monk. Sensing the end is near, the excitement in the air grows as Mal continues to unleash his furious flurry, driving the crowd to near delirium as it urges the Pathfinder on to victory. The crack of Daathiel’s whip cuts through the excitement, startling the crowd, snapping it out of its excited buzz. The masses seem mightily unimpressed by the combatant who hovers safely out of harms reach and then merely trips up the enemy, rather than finishing him off. There are even a couple of boos, the crowd believing Daathiel was merely trying to show off, rather than truly engage in combat.
Flora attempts to take the kinder, gentler approach, then knocks the stuffing out of your final enemy with a shot right to his jugular. While the amount of blood that comes spurting out is a bit alarming, you do see him moaning about on the ground unconscious, not too worse for the wear. The crowd surges to its feet, roaring at such a precise and brutal blow ending the bout in definitive fashion. The Emissary rises to his feet and takes a step forward, the crowd slowly quieting down.
”Victors of the inaugural bout of the thirty-first decennial Ruby Phoenix Tournament?” The Emissary thrusts both hands into the air: ”The Pathfinder Paragons!”
Quickly, the Emissary’s monks sweep into the arena and gather up the fallen, helping rouse them and get them off the sands.
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Mal gives a small cheer to the crowd at their victory and then bows to the emissary. He then proceeds to briefly fly around the arena, waving at the crowd and exits with his team.
Might as well give them the best show we can. Apparently the crowd's favor can go a long way in this tournament
Mal quietly addresses his comrades Well done lads. Glad we got through the first match without incident. I wonder how long until the next fight.
He turns to Jeras I'm sorry to see that you were unable to find that all important flank. I debating flying around to try to offer you a flank when the monks charged in, but seeing you disarmed I instead chose to flurry against them. Perhaps not the best tactical decision, but nevertheless, we were victorious! It was quite impressive that you were able to recover and still inflict noteworthy strikes without your primary daggers.
He then addresses his other two teammates Those knives are quite potent Flora. Hope to never find myself on the reciving end!
Excellent advice during the match Daathiel. Your words gave me insights into how to defend myself beyond even my normal capabilities
In the crowd again he recharges his ioun stone. He then uses a pearl to recover some of his divine power.
As the Emissary's monks clean up the Fight Area, you notice a series of pedestals have been set up all around the arena outside the wall of force marking the fight stage. A series of objects have been set up at each station. While the emissary dines on his morning repast, your friend Marthysan addresses the contestants and the crowd.
"While the fight stage is prepared for the next elimination contest, the Emissary has arranged a demonstration of strength, precision and martial prowess. All of the contestants of the Ruby Phoenix Tournament are welcome to show off their skill.
"In this challenge, items of various hardnesses have been placed on stone pedestals positioned about the arena. Competitors must race about the ring, and using their bare hands, feet, and heads, smash as many of the objects as possible. Objects must be broken with a single attack, and objects that are damaged but not broken are replaced with new materials after each attempt."
About the arena, you see stations that have Coconuts, Ice blocks, Metal bars, Quarterstaves, River stones, Stacked boards, Stacked bricks, and Stacked clay tiles
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Mal makes an attempt. Before entering the Arena he drinks an elixir, vastly enhancing his reflexes.
Immediately before his first attempt he calls once again upon Torag's blessing.
Coconut: hands
Ice block: arms
Metal bar: head
Quarterstaff: feet
River stone: fingers
Stacked boards: hands
Stacked bricks: hands
Stacked clay tiles: hands
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Jeras return to the place where he was disarmed and picks up his daggers.
"That was first time in my entire life that I was disarmed. I hope it doesn't happen again."
"Mal, maybe it is the time that I start using my potion of fly!" says Jeras to Mal.
Then he pulls out his wand for healing.
"I will not participate in this contest. It is to much for me. And you Mal, good luck!"