"Who's Voltus again? And can this guy be trusted?"
"He's the house's seneschal. He translated the message in the trap room for us." Cairee considered Dounia's other question. Could he be trusted? "We can't be sure of anyone's true intentions. But I believe he's concerned about the interference, and may know who arranged for the story last night."
"Has that worthless noble-born cornered [Prem] again, to take out his frustrations on whom he considers an easy target?""
Cairee was suddenly worried for their new friend. Had he been with them that morning, before the challenge? She couldn't remember. "Yoy'ya, have you seen him today? Perhaps Tymythy and Dounia should look for him while I visit Voltus."
The weary prayer of the seventeenth hour was being sung. Many of the spectator-guests made a show of enjoying themselves and small groups gathered in different sections of the arena. Hallwn's bards and porters were amongst them as they played or danced to show their own joy but also to entertain. Strange instruments of oddly bent winds or complicated strings were out.
Many of the guests were off the arena floor as they took advantage of the second last night of debauchery before going home, before the forgetting would wash all of their most perverse acts and their most selfish unfaithfulness away.
The food of the evening seemed to be a chaos of competitive plates as cooks from different regions of the world providing selections of eel and boar, pastries and pastes, flaming meat pies, and fragile frozen sculpted liquors.
Six armed porters were heading to the main doors. They didn't seem in a hurry and Chrizdoff was with them.
Several of the nobles from Princess Alissetta's party were wearing humble clothes and serving food to the Hazard Guard team members. The Guard are sitting at the main table dressed in new clothes (and new bandages and splints) but the Princess is not there.
You can see Prem in a corner by the food tents. He's by himself trying hard to be inconspicuous. There are several empty glasses in front of him.
You can see Nadj speaking with Kingsworthy.
Later, Nadj is speaking with one of the gnomes wearing stilts.
Later still, you notice Nadj talking to Don Ric'cassa, the head of The Adherents.
Each time his manner seams congenial, non-conspiratorial.
One of the guests bumps into another and falls into (the person who is eating/drinking). They appologise. However, you notice them pocket an empty potion vial as they do.
The guest appears to be a wealthy merchant, a man with a barrel shaped torso. He's pale, balding, and has a reddish goatee.
-
The Princess Alisette is sitting with two of her retainers, a woman and a man of about her age and obviously noble born. They are watching the Perdition's Cavaliers work through the challenge and, here and there, they titter. In the Princess, however, you think you spy tiny bits of earnest concern peak through.
Hallwn was behind his table but now suddenly can be seen at the edge of the eastern castle. He is looking out over his celebration … no, not the celebration … he's watching the Black Birds. As he notices you looking up at him you think you notice something in his eyes. It looks like pride.
You can see they Uyar (high-elves) speaking with a party of dwarves which includes the remaining Warriors of Dun Lummor. They appear to be having a very calm conversation but as they continue to speak with each other you get the certain feeling that they are having the world's calmest argument.
Batbayar and Tyerror are stitting and eating by themselves. They seem uneffected by the day's horrors. Something makes you give them a second look. Two dolls made of tied roots are laying on the tables with them. (roll appraise)
The dolls appear to have a folk-art quality to them. They are very rustically made, crudely but with a lot of care.
Perdition's Cavaliers seem to be in trouble, unfocused. They are holding it together but just under the surface you get the sense they are each caught up in their own heads. Prince Keone is working desperately to get through the challenge. He is driven by more than just the desire to win. Sir Pellius is frequently moving to protect Prince Keone. Lady Shiply looks uncommited to the challenge, a little off balance. Lord Badrelow keeps interfereing with Sir Pellius.
-
You gather from several different sources, mostly women, that Sir Pellious Courtland has been seen taking a different maiden to bed every night. Some have said he's been seen with several women during the day. A halfling baker, named Haesop Baker, from Klachan'comlah in Eileandoras (the north) mentioned Sir Pellious was known by some to only be interested in men. There is no reason to keep a secret like this. Such a preference isn't taboo. Perhaps the rumour is wrong.
(there seem to be almost no halflings at the arena - just three cooks from the north - very few people have been making any conversation with them)
The elven judges have been very active, asking guests if they've noticed anything strange. They have been extra watchful for acts of saboutage or interferace with the games and competitors as things get closer to the end.
Trismegistus of the Adherents has been seen in the hall of painted doors talking quietly with the once-patron of the Sisters of the Silken Scroll, named Eohzayped.
Eohzayped has made a great deal of money on betting and is still acting as spokesperson for one of the teams.
Two judges have been overheard talking about suspicions that someone is trying to pay a single member of Perdition's Cavaliers to 'throw the game'.
Trismegistus has been seen talking to Cairee's brother and sister.
Hallwn's servant, Voltus, has been scheduled to perform at the end of the night. This is a last minute addition to the schedule and several of the porters mention that Voltus never participates in the entertainment, being too busy with birthday logistics.
One of the stilt-walking gnomes, the woman named Carnelian Lumma ("No, please just call me Lumma.") is looking quiet and pensive. After a difficult time getting her to open up she will have mentioned she has eleven children, mostly boys, and they all have some role in the cause of fighting for the rights to wander their own land.
Just as the conversation seems over, Lumma will pipe up and say, "I think I overheard one of the merchants from Ymen in the north say that the head of the Adherents of Aureolus, Don Ric'cassa, is often sought out for his ability to bring someone back from the dead, if the death was recent enough. Do you think that's true? I see them with the Sisters of the Silken Scroll a lot. What a terrible thing to hold over one's head. The ability to bring a loved one back to life."
"Yoy'ya, have you seen him today? Perhaps Tymythy and Dounia should look for him while I visit Voltus."
Yoy'ya, "Sure. He's been about. I haven't been hanging around with him. He seems pretty mopey and I didn't want to waste a good time."
Zahra wasn't sure how long she was in her room as marking time was never her strong suit. However she did recognize two things, the rumblings in her stomach and that she was spiralling on her own. She had always done better around people growing up than on her own.
Spending time with others and learning more about their stories would either help her forget about her own for a time or else put her own challenges into perspective.
Zahra uses one of the first spells she learned from Haseena to clean her face and unwrinkle her clothes before going back into the common room.
Zahra headed for the food tents wanting something sweet and decadent to soothe herself. A quick scan of the crowd revealed Prem off by himself, with several empty glasses arranged infront of him. She was torn about going to see if he was ok and worried that she may be the last person he wanted to see.
In the end, she decided that she needed to check on her friend so she made her way over to him. "Everything ok, Prem? Have you seen any of the others?"
------
As Zahra was enjoying the roaming entertainment, one of the outfits of the stilt-walking gnomes caught her eye. The embroidery and stitching was exquisite and being a seamstress at heart, Zahra needed to compliment the workmanship. "Who sewed your outfit? Was it you? It is quite remarkable."
The conversation naturally moved to more questions about how Lumma came to be performing here at the birthday party and how it must be an honour and such. Seeing that Lumma seemed more reserved than most performers, or maybe sensing similar emotions regarding family, Zahra was able to get her to open up a bit about her children and her concerns about them.
Out of the blue, as Zahra senses their conversation coming to a natural end, Lumma blurted, "I think I overheard one of the merchants from Ymen in the north say that the head of the Adherents of Aureolus, Don Ric'cassa, is often sought out for his ability to bring someone back from the dead, if the death was recent enough. Do you think that's true? I see them with the Sisters of the Silken Scroll a lot. What a terrible thing to hold over one's head. The ability to bring a loved one back to life."
Zahra's eyes widened. "He seems pious enough so it could be true but I'm not sure. I've never heard of anyone being able to do that before. I can understand wanting to bring back a loved one so it would make someone vulnerable and willing to do almost anything to make it happen. That would be a terrible thing to hold over someone. To take advantage of someone's desperation..." Zahra's voice faded away as her father came to mind.
… "Everything ok, Prem? Have you seen any of the others?"
Prem, "Oh kay? I've … never been bedder. Would. Would you care for a drink? They've gott these rather delicate fruit things." He looked at his shoulders to his 'wings'. "No. Maybe nott a drink. So little room. There's already three of us at the table. Still, I'm miles ahead of that Cringe-worthy, though."
He drifted a bit and then stood up suddenly remembering something, "Sorry, sorry, forgot my manners, and myself, a bit there. How are you? The last challenged." He seemed to become more focused. "It seemed … rough. Are you o k?"
------
"Who sewed your outfit? Was it you? It is quite remarkable."
Lumma started like she was reading from some pamphlet but something about Zahra helped her to grow more personable. "A saavutus puku or saavutusviitta is kept safe for ceremonies. It is lengthened with new writings of new accomplishments whenever it is brought out. That means, for all but the wealthiest of Gnomes who can retain a long term Raatali or Miespalvelija, the puku will be worked on by many hands over the gnome's life."
Lumma pointed to a section along one of the dags of her vestment, "You might notice a change in handiwork here between my leading the fire-roll and the birth of my eleventh child. They have tried to keep in the style of the previous craftsgnome but no one can completely disguise their own hand."
"… I can understand wanting to bring back a loved one so it would make someone vulnerable and willing to do almost anything to make it happen. That would be a terrible thing to hold over someone. To take advantage of someone's desperation..."
Lumma nodded in silence as she looked across the arena to where Zosimos and Trismegistus of the Adherents were listening to a group of four female performers. Each was playing what looked to be a cross between bodrahns and a tambourines.
Lumma let out a concerned sigh.
Tymythy had spent the time between their team’s sharing session and the evening festivities to clean up, rest, and be alone with his thoughts. There was no telling how far into the night the upcoming spectacle continued, and even though he didn’t feel compelled to stay to the end, a warrior knew to rest and recover when an opportunity arose. And while his wounds had been healed and the cloud shrouding his thoughts banished by Cairee’s ministrations, he still felt somewhat out of sorts. Uneasy. Confused.
Tomorrow’s challenge would be even more dangerous than today’s, so he couldn’t afford any hesitation… but try as he might, he couldn’t get rid of the strange feeling in his heart, and resting was only making him more restless and frustrated, so instead he turned into practicing, clearing up some space in their common room to dance the forms with his usriev, losing himself in the physical exercise against an imagined opponent, the flow of move into countermove. After some time, gasping in exhaustion, Tymythy came to a stop in high guard stance, feeling… perhaps a bit more at ease with himself? As if both the voices in his heart had found something in common in the exercise.
Seeing Zahra emerge from her room looking positively pristine, Tymythy thought about his own clothes, sweaty and dirty after their challenge and his more recent exertions. ”Zahra, could you help me with these? There’s no time to get these washed and dried, and it’s not like I have a whole wardrobe to choose from.” he asked, gesturing at his own clothes.
Tymythy prowled the arena, feeling once again out of place amidst all the finery and strange sights and sounds, nodding politely to guests who greeted him with varying levels of enthusiasm like a up-and-coming gladiator after a day’s bout, and met levelly the eyes of those scowling in his direction – likely people who had lost betting against them. He moved on and put both types of people out of his mind.
No, most of Tymythy’s attention was on the other competitors. It was difficult to spot any particular people in the mass of people, distracted as he was with outlandish attires and some rather scandalous almost-nothings that some of the servants and even a few of the guests wore, and even harder to keep his eyes on them once spotted, lest he appear confrontational, as he could just imagine the guarded expression on his face.
He did notice the two remaining orcish challengers, Batbayar and Tyerror, sitting by themselves. Apparently at ease despite their losses… well, death was a part of a warrior’s lot, and any not prepared to lose comrades was best never pick up the spear in the first place. Besides, they were not among friends and family, so this was not the best place to show one’s grief. He did note two dolls sitting on the table between then… effigies of the fallen, perhaps? To house the spirits of the fallen, to anchor their spirits to the land for a moment before they departed?
He had been looking for Cairee’s siblings but was out of luck – either the two were not participating, perhaps due to their heavy wounds – or he had merely missed them. He did spot the Perdition’s Cavaliers, however, celebrating their successes. In particular, Sir Pellius Courtland seemed to be in good cheer, working hard to empty a decanter of wine by his elbow, gesturing with his glass to his comrades as he spoke with apparent passion. The hunter recalled seeing the man slipping away with a woman after a previous party… a woman dressed as one of the servants but with a skin several hues darker than most servants and wearing a particularly opulent ring on her finger… a secret tryst, he had assumed, but nothing had come of it as far as he knew so he had almost forgot the whole matter. Yet now that the thought had resurfaced he found himself watching the man. Long enough to also spot another guest stumble into him and fall all over the knight, causing him to spill his drink. The situation was quickly sorted, as a pair of the knights helped unentangle the rotund fellow from Sir Pellius… yet Tymythy’s sharp eyes noted a small vial slipping into the stumbling guest’s pocket… and was there a slight discoloration in the remaining wine in the decanter?
For a moment, Tymythy hesitated. Perhaps this was the husband with whose wife the knight had slipped away into the night, taking vengeance the only way he could? But even so, poison was a coward’s weapon and no fitting end a fellow who had braved the challenges, even if he had trouble limiting his amorous adventures. The hunter had already lost sight of the man with the vial – there was surely no shortage of well-dressed men here, nor of people of the man’s girth. The receding hair line… not much more of a hint either, perhaps. Had the man had a beard or a goatee or a fiery hue? Tymythy thought so but there were more pressing matters than that.
He navigated the crowds as quickly as he could towards the Cavaliers’ table – had the knight already refilled his glass? He couldn’t tell – and cleared his throat to invite their attention.
”Warrior, you might want to ease on the drink. That drink in particular, at least,” Tymythy murmured, trying to balance his voice to be heard over the hum and drone of voices but not having it carry to too many ears. ”I believe the fellow who stumbled into you might have added a little something to it.”
”Zahra, could you help me with these? There’s no time to get these washed and dried, and it’s not like I have a whole wardrobe to choose from.” he asked, gesturing at his own clothes.
She gave her friend a small smile, "Of course! It shouldn't take too long." Zahra motioned at Tymythy to twirl for her as she began to cast and soon he was wrinkle and odour free.
Zahra flagged one of the servers and asked for coffee when she saw that Prem needed a bit of sobering.
I've … never been bedder...Still, I'm miles ahead of that Cringe-worthy, though."
"Were you celebrating, then?"
"It seemed … rough. Are you o k?"
Zahra felt her emotions beginning to churn and she ducked her head as she looked at her hands, unable to make eye contact. "No...but," she took a deep breath and finally looked at Prem, "I will be. As long as I don't isolate myself from my friends. Yes?"
the puku will be worked on by many hands over the gnome's life...Lumma pointed to a section along one of the dags of her vestment, "You might notice a change in handiwork here between my leading the fire-roll and the birth of my eleventh child. They have tried to keep in the style of the previous craftsgnome but no one can completely disguise their own hand."
Zahra ran her hand along the material as if in awe. "So much history touched by many hands. So many hands recording your life through thread and stitches as potent as ink and words." She grinned, "And how many lives can claim a fire-roll and eleven children in the same breath! Remarkable!"
Lumma let out a concerned sigh.
Zahra shared Lumma's feelings of apprehension. "Is there anything I can do to ease your mind?"
Dounia left their rooms with the intention of looking for Prem, but was immediately distracted by the food! So many different types of food! For a skinny teenager, it was heaven on earth. She took the biggest plate she could find (never mind that it was a mostly-empty serving platter), and heaped it with a little bit of everything she could fit onto it.
The pile teetering precariously, she found a seat and looked around at the crowds, while trying not to jam everything into her mouth at once. She sees Kingsworthy, and sticks her tongue out at him, forgetting that she'd just eaten a jelly-cracker and it was probably pretty disgusting for any nearby onlookers to witness. Wait, was that the tabaxi friend of Hellwyn's talking to him? What was his name? Nadj? Why was he talking to that goat's anus? Frowning, she popped some fried balls into her mouth and then nearly choked when it turned out they were incredibly spicy.
Gulping watered wine, Dounia kept her eye on the pair, but Kingsworthy disappeared into the crowd. Nadj, however, wandered in sight, and eventually found his way over to one of the tall gnomes. Is he talking to everybody? Wait, he's not passing messages, is he? She frowned, watching carefully, but he seemed to just be friendly, not suspicious. He had talked to them pretty freely the other day. Maybe he was just a curious and friendly cat-guy.
She was distracted as one of the elven judges approached a group of halflings sitting not far from her, eating and giggling. The halflings settled as the serious looking judge approached. "Excuse my interruption. We are checking in with all the guests. We trust that you would tell us if you have noticed anything strange or suspicious? During the challenges, or between them? Our host relies on all his guests in ensuring a fair and honest competition." His words were neutral, but his tone held a hint of threat.
The halflings all shook their heads, some quite alarmedly. "Oh no, no sir, we haven't seen anything out of the ordinary. And we would tell you, we would!"
The judge bowed slightly, thanked them, then looked up at Dounia. Seeing that she was a competitor, he didn't come speak to her. Instead, he inclined his head in acknowledgement, then moved on to another group, out of her earshot. I guess they have to be careful about sabotage and stuff, especially as there are only 2 more days to go. But this seems a bit heavy-handed, asking all the guests.
She looked around, and sure enough, other judges were circulating, talking to guests. And there was Nadj again! This time talking to that Don guy, the head of the Adherents. He really gets around!" Dounia decided to put herself in his path, and see if he approached her. The heap of food on her plate platter was a more manageable size now, and he belly was feeling nearly full, so she stood carefully and made her way through the stands. She looked for the three split women as she moved, wondering what they'd been up to all day.
The tabaxi was just walking away from Don Ric'cassa. Dounia tried to position herself in profile, so he would see her without it being obvious that she knew he was there. She dipped some skewered meat in a nutty sauce and savored it as it slid off the sliver of wood and into her mouth.
- Tymythy & Pellius
From a distance Tymythy could see Sir Pellius speak while raising the glass to his lips, remember something and lower his goblet to shout at his gathering audience. They all broke into wild laughter. As Tymythy rushed to get closer he could begin to hear.
Pellius, "That's when the third came out of the shadows! I was holding the vase under my left arm, the wraith was advancing from the juliet balcony and here comes Lord Badrelow. He knocks into me from behind and I'm launched into the fray. I swear! That man has thumbs for feet!"
!BIG LAUGHS!
He began to raise his cup again but notice Tymythy rushing forward. Pellius' body tensed a little.
… ”Warrior, you might want to ease on the drink. That drink in particular, at least,” … ”I believe the fellow who stumbled into you might have added a little something to it.”
The smile never left Sir Pellius' face. It was frozen in one position as he looked about at his hangers-on. He nodded to the air to let Tymythy know he understood.
Pellius tucked the goblet under his arm to mimic the vase in his storey. Wine spilled out on his paint-leg and to the ground. He mimed stumbling forward and dropped the goblet letting it crash. "And that! Is how we lost an opportunity to bring a ten-thousand crown Shishan Dynasty ewer back from the challenge!"
!BIG LAUGHS!
Pellius, "Excuse me. I seem to have misplaced my drink." He winked at his fawning groupies and as he walked past Tymythy to the drink tents he dared a grim whisper, "You may have just prevented a war in the north.", and kept walking.
"Were you celebrating, then?"
Prem, "Jus a liddle me-time. Only two more days … godda, godda enjoy myself while I can. Then iss back to the grind stone."
"No...but," she took a deep breath and finally looked at Prem, "I will be. As long as I don't isolate myself from my friends. Yes?"
Prem seemed almost sober, "I don't understand. I can't. I'm not doing these challenges. I don't know what they're like, what you're going through, not really. But your wisdom is good. Don't isolate your …", there was a little light that turned on behind his eyes, "Ahh" He smiled a touched smile. "Yes, no one should isolate themselves from their friends. If you'll excuse me a weak little moment I will, howvever, howefef, how-eff-er, sulk just a little longer. I promise. Next time you see me I shall be good ol' Prem."
Zahra shared Lumma's feelings of apprehension. "Is there anything I can do to ease your mind?"
Lumma, "You have been already. The Black Birds are quite the team to root for. Just keep doing what you're doing. [smaller]and maybe, don't let them win." She went back to considering the Adherents.
… "Excuse my interruption. We are checking in with all the guests. We trust that you would tell us if you have noticed anything strange or suspicious? During the challenges, or between them? Our host relies on all his guests in ensuring a fair and honest competition." His words were neutral, but his tone held a hint of threat.
The halflings all shook their heads, some quite alarmedly. "Oh no, no sir, we haven't seen anything out of the ordinary. And we would tell you, we would!"
The halflings tightened up their clothes. They were all in whites and they put on comical white hats that looked like poofy mushrooms. They didn't seem like guests but were perhaps visiting chiefs. Caught relaxing they quickly went back to work.
Nadj worked the crowd with the ease of a busker. He moved between people he wanted to pass, avoided those he was not interested in speaking with, and greated those he was eager to talk to.
He was completely unhindered.
That was, until there was Dounia.
Nadj stopped, suddenly realizing his way was blocked. "Ah! Oh, excuse me youngling. Mmm, healthy eater?!" He made to walk around her just at the time she noticed six armed porters making their way to the front foyer. The herald Chrizdoff was with them.
Cairee retired to her room, hoping to rest before dinner. She had barely closed the door when she heard a soft knock, and two young girls slipped in carrying clean clothing, a jug of warm water, a basket of flowers - everything needed to make the cleric presentable for the evening. "No thank you, I-" but the girls set to their work, and Cairee didn't have the energy to stop them. They coaxed her out of her sweat-stained robes and leather lamaller shirt, and into a simple Indigo dress with white daisies embroidered along the collar. They confiscated her sandals, washed her feet and slipped on soft leather moccasins. One even had a powder they brushed into Cairee's hair, which enhanced the fading orange and made it look soft and shiny. They wove in daisies to form a flowered tiara.
When they were done, the girls collected their supplies and Cairee's dirty cloths. They reached for the flower basket only to find Ousel re-arranging the leftover flowers to make a nest. They nodded respectfully to the small thrush, and left.
Feeling surprisingly refreshed and a little self conscious, Cairee left her room with Ousel on her shoulder. Dounia smirked at her dress but said nothing, and the two left for the evening's events.
Dounia disappeared immediately as the young thief beelined for the food tent. Cairee accepted a glass of sweet tea from a porter, grateful for something to hold on to. She wandered through the crowds, trying to stay alert anything that may be suspicious. It was hard not to feel paranoid. What were those two nobles whispering about? Was that dwarf staring at her? Was that guard trying not to stare?
It seemed everyone had gossip about the games and the players. It wasn't just the blackbirds who were trying to glean information. She overheard snippets of conversations and tried to retain the names to share with her friends. Someone named Eohzayped had done well with betting and was now a spokesperson for one of the teams - what team, she didn't catch. Two judges were rumoured to have said someone tried to bribe a member of the Perdition's Cavaliers to throw the game.
Two porters whispered about Voltus being scheduled to perform that evening. His last minute addition was a surprise as he never participated with the entertainment. Cairee made note to be sure the Blackbirds were present for his performance. It may be important.
One of the Adherents, Trismegistus, had been seen talking to Eohzayped, the former patron of the Sisters of the Silken Scroll, and later with Arnie and Mar. This was concerning - the Adherents were obviously up to something, and it would only be made worse if they were in league with her siblings.
Cairee looked for her friends, wanting to discuss this development. Instead she noticed the Uyar speaking with a party of dwarves, including the remaining Warriors of Dun Lummor. They appeared to be having a very calm, and intense, argument. Curiosity pulled at her, and Cairee approached the group. "May I join you? These crowds can be overwhelming. It would be a relief to stand with friends. Did you enjoy the games today?"
Pellius, "Excuse me. I seem to have misplaced my drink." He winked at his fawning groupies and as he walked past Tymythy to the drink tents he dared a grim whisper, "You may have just prevented a war in the north.", and kept walking.
Tymythy blinked in surprise as his gaze followed Pellius’s back until the knight vanished into a tent. That was not what he had expected. He had thought he was merely getting between the revenge of an estranged rival suitor or cuckolded husband and the object of their fury, but perhaps not… unless the woman the knight had dallied with was or particularly high rank, and the knight’s liege would be compelled to take revenge on their oath-sworn warrior’s behalf?
Still, the hunter was pleased. He felt no particular kinship to the Cavaliers, and had the stranger challenged the knight to a duel Tymythy would have cheered the victor, whichever it might have been. But poison? The method made all the difference in his eyes. He nodded to the remaining members of the Cavaliers and walked away himself, his self-appointed task completed, as he had no more business with this particular team of competitors. Instead, he decided to pay what remained of the Bonds of Gruumsh a visit.
He walked to the table occupied by the two walking survivors of the proud orcish team and stood there, a few steps away until a gesture from Batbayar that he took as an invitation to approach. ”You paid a great price for your victory,” Tymythy murmured, more making a statement than offering condolences, as death was ever a part of a warrior’s life.
He took a closer look at the crude dolls set on the table – set, not merely dropped off, although Tymythy could glean no insight from the way they were positioned. Still, he decided to go with his initial assumption, that they were some sort of effigies so the spirits of the team’s two latest fallen could inhabit and thus join their still-living kin. So he bowed to both dolls in quiet salute. Jad and Nergui had died warriors’ deaths, even though some stick-in-the-mud might cling to the fact that it was not an enemy’s blade that had ended them.
The Fourth Evening - Dounia & Nadj
Nadj worked the crowd with the ease of a busker. He moved between people he wanted to pass, avoided those he was not interested in speaking with, and greated those he was eager to talk to.
He was completely unhindered.
That was, until there was Dounia.
Nadj stopped, suddenly realizing his way was blocked. "Ah! Oh, excuse me youngling. Mmm, healthy eater?!" He made to walk around her just at the time she noticed six armed porters making their way to the front foyer. The herald Chrizdoff was with them.
Dounia looked to the tabaxi and grinned, wiping sauce from her mouth. "These challenges take up a lot of energy! And I haven't eaten this well since....well...I can't even remember."
Watching the porters, she asks, "Are you enjoying the party? How does it compare to other years? You can remember other years, right?"
If you'll excuse me a weak little moment I will, howvever, howefef, how-eff-er, sulk just a little longer. I promise. Next time you see me I shall be good ol' Prem."
Zahra's face was a mixture of understanding and concern. "It's not weakness, Prem." She reached out and placed her hand over his, "It's okay to not be okay. We aren't friends with 'good ol' Prem', we're friends with Prem." She gave his hand a small squeeze before withdrawing her hand, "Take the time you need but I'm trusting that I will see you somewhat soon, alright?"
"You have been already. The Black Birds are quite the team to root for. Just keep doing what you're doing. and maybe, don't let them win."
It touched Zahra's heart that they actually had people rooting for them. Hearing that some were rooting for them rather than betting against them was something she didn't know she needed to hear until she heard it. "It's definitely one of the reasons for us to keep going." The Blackbirds had already been concerned about the Twins winning and skeptical of the Adherents but this definitely made the Adherents a greater threat. She would need to let the others know later tonight.
As she said goodbye, Zahra said, "Hopefully this isn't the last time we meet and I look forward to seeing how your story has grown in the stitching of your garment."
"May I join you? These crowds can be overwhelming. It would be a relief to stand with friends. Did you enjoy the games today?"
The Arishallshamis Uyar and the Leummorean Dwarves continued talking like they were too focused to hear Cairee announce herself. It was more likely they didn't want to loose their place in the conversation.
As all of the Uyar were masked they chanted their words as they spoke.
Zunile of the Arishallshamis, "Surely, IIIIIII ne-EE-d not saaaay, the straight treeeeee faaall-a-laaals to the ax-es of the car'pen'terrrr a-the croook-ed treeeeees li-i-ivvvve to baaaaaare fruit of it'sss kinnnnd."
Caydren of the Leummoreans, "Are you saying there are no more straight trees? I wasn't aware of that."
Grownya of the Leummoreans, "No there are still straight ones out there Caydren, but I seem to be missing the point. I thought we were talking about order in the 'stone' architecture of the dwarves. What do trees have to do with it?"
Rahhuul of the Arishallshamis, "Weee wer'er TALLL-kiiiiing of the riiig-id and howwww it'does'not beeeend. Much li-ike dwarrr'ven i'dee-ology."
Unnood of the Arishallshamis, "Theee unnnnder earrrth hasss pre'ure beyond measure. A square boooox CAAAAA'n not surrrrrrpass. Granite iiiiiis maaaaade with such preeeeee'sure."
Kneelha of the Leummoreans, "Dwarven hearts are made with such pressure to. I applaude the 'flexible' elven, tree-like, heart. It must be very light indeed."
There seemed no sign of their conversation coming to an end.
”You paid a great price for your victory,” … So he bowed to both dolls in quiet salute.
Batbayar looked to the two dolls, "My teacher and my son paid more." He used his foot from under the table to push out a chair, "Your reverence to the fading-dolls is a kindness. You knew them a little. You should sit and eat. Only you, our host, and that tall herald ever bothered to know them at all.
"Talking to our host is like talking to a mountain. You may speak your words but there is no common place of understanding. What does a word like family mean to a mountain?
"The herald is too polite. Every word they utter is dipped in honey. Their kindness is too much to swallow.
"You. You I can stand. Join us."
Dounia looked to the tabaxi and grinned, wiping sauce from her mouth. "These challenges take up a lot of energy! And I haven't eaten this well since....well...I can't even remember."
Nadj had tried to get around the desert thief and found his way blocked by questions, "Good, good! The food is there for eating. If you weren't enjoying y..."
Watching the porters, she asks, "Are you enjoying the party? How does it compare to other years? You can remember other years, right?"
Nadj settled in realizing he wasn't going to get away easily, "Yes, I remember. I remember who cheated on whom and what dignitary was stabbed by whom in which corridor. I remember who lost their life savings and went home never to remember how. I remember who went home with strange gifts and new scars with no sense of how they got them.
"I remember delicious delights so intoxicating that it seemed no food would ever surpass it again. Spices so fine and aromatic arranged on mirror-like silver platters that sang of your beauty as you sampled from them.
"I once danced with a guest comprised mostly of air. I dallied with creatures so ugly and passionate that my desires have been ruined forever.
"I have fought with devils and drakes and once played at dice with a pride lord from Nirvana. I died once at the hand of a strange warrior from the other side of the world who wore armour made of wicker.
"How does this year compare? This year …
"I am worried …" He crouched so he could look at Dounia directly in the eyes and lowered his voice, "For the silver serpent is dead and we all must make ready."
He stood to his full height and walked around Dounia to speak with the rotund Count Vertbatton.
She gave his hand a small squeeze before withdrawing her hand, "Take the time you need but I'm trusting that I will see you somewhat soon, alright?"
Prem, "Yes, soon. After a rest." He bumped into his chair and got a little tangled in his left wing before righting himself. "I'll have a porter show me to my room." He bowed and walked like he was remembering how over to a muscled porter and they parted from the arena.
"Hopefully this isn't the last time we meet and I look forward to seeing how your story has grown in the stitching of your garment."
Lumma considered her hem, "Hm, I understand there will be a ritual of forgetting of some kind. I wonder if they'll allow a little embellishment. They must have an embroiderer here. Somewhere."
A group of gnomes came and bowed to Zahra only to take Lumma with them. Their stilts clacked in near unison as they left.
The anxious song of late nine (or 21) was being sung.
People started to quiet as they turned to face the arena. The lithe six-foot-three figure of Idrim Voltus entered from one of the mid-arena voms. He was wearing a loincloth of linen that was tied quite tight and in his right hand was a small-tipped spear. His golden hair was slicked back and rode the top of his long pointed ears which, like-wise, pointed to the back of his head.
The torches shone off his iridescent skin of sea-foam and copper and his ribcage showed off long translucent flaps of skin. On the low parts of his neck under each ear were smaller versions of the same.
His bare feet made prints in the sand as he stopped at the edge of the lake.
Four porters came out from the voms. They wore leather and bore spears. About their necks were ropes that held wooden target-shaped boards. They surrounded Voltus at a distance of ten yards.
As a series of poles raised out of the lake to different heights, Chrizdoff the herald called out.
""
People began to move to the lower bowl of the arena. One of the merchants yelled out, "What's this? Competing against four of his own lackeys?! Did they arrange this like dance?"
Voltus rolled his neck as he loosened up.
Chrizdoff smirked, "Gerddie Haftwain, of the Eusabiona Steerage Company. What do you suggest?"
Gerddie, "Let my man here take one of there places!"
Chrizdoff looked to Voltus. Voltus raised his eyebrows. Chrizdoff turned back to Gerddie and yelled, "ACCEPTED!" and a huge man with a face like a tree that's been half cut down stepped forward. He was as tall as Voltus but not at all lithe.
Chrizdoff, "Any other takers?"
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Dounia could feel her cheeks colouring as Nadj expounded upon his exploits. Really! Who speaks of dalliances to just anybody! But before she could excuse herself, he got down to her level and spoke of his worry. The silver serpent? Does he mean Zahra's dragon? He's been dead a while, I think.
But before she could question him about it, he was off and moving off to the next guest. What had he meant? Is he actually worried?
Chrizdoff, "Any other takers?"
Dounia had made her way around to the others, and without thinking, she grabbed Tymythy's wrist and raised it into the air. "We challenge!" she shouted. "Tymythy of the Blackbirds would join the challenge!"
Dounia had made her way around to the others, and without thinking, she grabbed Tymythy's wrist and raised it into the air. "We challenge!" she shouted. "Tymythy of the Blackbirds would join the challenge!"
"You. You I can stand. Join us."
Tymythy nodded and sat down with the orcs, sampling the food the two had selected for themselves. ”I do not know your ways, but among my people, when a warrior has fallen in battle – died not with dishonor, really - their kin gather to remember their life. I have no tales to tell… but if that is your custom too, I would listen, and remember them,” Tymythy said quietly.
Dounia had made her way around to the others, and without thinking, she grabbed Tymythy's wrist and raised it into the air. "We challenge!" she shouted. "Tymythy of the Blackbirds would join the challenge!"
Tymythy smiled as Dounia was the first to sign him up to the challenge, but he had to admit that such a competition appealed to him, even though he had no idea about the particularities of the rules. He walked past Dounia to hand her his usriev – since she had volunteered him, it was only fitting for her to see after his weapon, as he doubted personal weapons would be welcome in the challenge – and moved next to the other challenger, giving form huge man and the loinclothed elf a quick nod of acknowledgement.
Zahra was finally able to get a plate piled with sweet dainties when the anxious song sounded and the announcement came. She managed to find the others on her team and got settled in the lower bowl. She found it somewhat relaxing to be a spectator for once and looked forward to seeing what Voltus had planned to wow the crowd.
The sorceress was unfortunate to have just popped a chocolate truffle into her mouth when Dounia brazenly volun-told Tymythy to take one of the porters' places. Zahra gasped in surprise and then proceeded to choke on the truffle in her throat. It took her a bit to get her coughing under control and then waited to see if any others would join.
”I do not know your ways, but among my people, when a warrior has fallen in battle – died not with dishonor, really - their kin gather to remember their life. I have no tales to tell… but if that is your custom too, I would listen, and remember them,” Tymythy said quietly.
Batbayar stopped and considered his reply, "I am from the plains between the Eusabiona townships and the Ardcathair mountains. I am not some forest raider or demon's slave. My people are free.
"We do not bury the dead, or burn them, or take them to the high mountains or set them adrift in the wide rivers. The person we knew is gone at death and we do not carry the weight of the body. It stays where it fell.
"The memory is all and I will be their memory until the fading-effigies rot away. And when all who knew them are gone to never again say their name, that is when they will be gone forever.
"My teacher would remember how hard I was on my sons. Jad would say 'trust them not to break but do not put harm before them like he who raised you. The world will be hateful enough.' Through her I was shown the way of 'hardship without suffering'. She was strange for I never knew any creature to spout wisdom so needed, or breath so bad."
Tyerror pipped up with food in his mouth, "- so bad."
Batayar, "My son. My second. Was the perfect copy of his mother. Tuukhych ni-Sundersux, who was also called Neguxaan , was so stubborn. She lasted for weeks when she caught the shattermind. Her fading-doll is now four years rotten away."
Tyerror, "He had to do everything I did. He drove me. If I did anything half-heart he would come up behind me and do it better. I had to beat him at my own game before he tried."
Batbayar, "AND WHAT A MONSTER HE WAS! In the area of challenges. Oh, Tymythy-son-of-Stywyrt, who is also called Xap! You would have shaken to meet him in battle that day." He grew quiet as his pride for his lost son became too much.
Tyerror, "He was younger than me by two seasons and there were times I wished ..."
Batbayar looked at Tyerror in a scolding fashion. Tyerror quickly looked at the two dolls and left the table. Batbayar followed him with his eyes for a bit and then returned to eating.
The Arishallshamis Uyar and the Leummorean Dwarves continued talking like they were too focused to hear Cairee announce herself. It was more likely they didn't want to lose their place in the conversation...There seemed no sign of their conversation coming to an end.
The Uyar and Dwarves stayed locked in their intense and cryptic battle of words. Cairee's head pingponged back and forth, trying to find a way in. Perhaps she could distract them away from, whatever this was. "Actually, I-...That reminds me...Have you ever...." No one acknowledged her presence or headed any ground. She finally offered an unnoticed bow and retreated back into the crowd.
Finally she found her friends and gratefully rejoined the group. She leaned in and shared what she'd learned in a low voice. "Apparently some judges think someone is trying to bribe a Cavalier to throw the game. And an Adherent has been seen talking to a Sister of the Silken Scroll and to my siblings. I wonder if it's about the meeting Dounia was invited to attend this evening."
Before she could say more, the herald's voice boomed, shushing the crowd.
"Our very own Seneschal, Idrum Voltus, will be performing a demonstration of strength, balance, and combat acumen! Please, bring your drinks to the lower bowl and enjoy our fine spectacle!"
Cairee tugged on Zahra's sleeve. "Oh! We should watch this! I wonder if it will contain any more clues about-"
"We challenge! Tymythy of the Blackbirds would join the challenge!"
What? Cairee swiveled around to see Dounia jumping up and down excitedly, while Tymythy stoically nodded and stepped forward. Not exactly what she had in mind. Had they just offended Voltus, the one source Cairee almost sort of trusted? Hopefully not, as it was too late. She whispered to Zahra, Dounia, and Yoy'ya, "Watch not just for entertainment. Look for a clue or message. This could be important."
"Watch not just for entertainment. Look for a clue or message. This could be important."
Tymythy listened to Batbayar's tale in silence, eating slowly, nodding when he felt some acknowledgement of a point was required. When the older orc's tale was done he still sat in comfortable silence for a moment before speaking.
”I heard your tale and shall remember it,” Tymythy murmured. ”And I thank you for sharing it with me, an outsider. It is a shame I didn't have the chance to get to know either of them, so that I might have something to add.”
”I have learned much from you - before, the only orcs I had heard of were of those clans who would cross spears with my people in the far East. Mighty foes and honorable enough, but there was little peace with them, in my time at least, to get to know them as anything but enemies. I thought war was all there was, all that could be, between our people. But if this madhouse of wonders I find myself in has done anything, it has… opened my eyes to the wider truths. To… possibilities.”
”Soon, this party will end and we go our separate ways. Yet, perhaps we shall meet again one day, outside, under familiar skies. If so, let it not be as enemies.”
Dounia was surprised when Tymythy handed her his spear, but she held it proudly, standing straight, as if she were a flag-bearer.
Cairee's warning to watch for clues also surprised her, though if she'd been more clever she'd have thought of it herself. She narrowed her eyes, watching the contestants and surroundings carefully, trying to see their motives and not just their actions.
Zahra nodded dutifully when Cairee suggested paying extra attention for extra clues. The sorceress fixed her gaze on the scene below and did her best.
”… I thought war was all there was, all that could be, between our people. But if this madhouse of wonders I find myself in has done anything, it has… opened my eyes to the wider truths. To… possibilities.”
”Soon, this party will end and we go our separate ways. Yet, perhaps we shall meet again one day, outside, under familiar skies. If so, let it not be as enemies.”
Batbayar called after Tymythy as he walked away, "Advice is for fools so maybe that is what I am, but don't clamour after some Genie's artificial wish, Xap! Know what you wish for and make it true - as we do! As my daughter did!"
Tymythy could see Tyerror walking some dark thought off like it was a bad sprain. Tyerror stopped and nodded and then went back to walking.
As Tymythy walked down the stands to the sands of the arena floor Lord Badrelow of Perdition's Cavaliers yelled out, "I will meet you and help make this contest - honest!" He took off his heavy coat and followed after Tymythy. A squire ran after him and began buckling on a heavy leather breast guard.
Across the arena someone yelled out, "I'll make the fourth!" It was another man. People began whispering throughout the stands, "Aparisterous! … It's Aparisterous" The man was in fine, though not ostentatious, clothes and threw off a cloak to show oxblood leather with studs.
The porters handed over their spears to the challengers. They walked around the challengers and hung the 6" wooden targets from their necks.
Chrizdoff looked up at the eastern castle. Hallwn looked down, paused, and then nodded.
Chrizdoff, ""
The other challengers nod and all eyes go to Tymythy.
Tymythy nodded with the others, and taking a cue from them, took off his tunic and half-cloak to stand bare-chested in the ring. He hefted the spear he was given, familiarizing himself to its balance, took his place where one of the porters had stood, fell into neutral stance and awaited.
Cairee's nerves calmed a little as Lord Badrelow stepped forward. Having another team participate was somehow a comfort - even better that it wasn't Arnie.
But the name Aparisterous twisted her stomach. She stood on her tiptoes, trying to get a better look. "That's the person who was betting for Zahra to die," she whispered to the others.
As he entered the arena he threw an obvious conspiratorial glance at Lord Baldrelow. "Did you see that?" Lord Baldrelow clearly noticed the glance, but she couldn't tell what he was thinking. "Something's going on," she worried. "Voltus could be in danger. And Tymythy."
The spearman was too far away to warn. "Ousel, fly over to Tymythy and whisper to him that Baldrelow and Aparisterous might be working together."
Chrizdoff raised an alder rod.
""
Ousel darted down to flutter around Tymythy. She alighted on his left shoulder and whispered in his ear. Chrizdoff watched patiently wondering what could be so important.
Somewhere by the food tents Batbayar and Tyerror laughed uncontrollably.
Ousel, "Orhabim wants me to say that Ballderwol and Apsertooth are a pair" She turned on Tymythy's shoulder toward Chrizdoff, bowed, and flew back to Cairee.
Chrizdoff lowered the alder rod, ""
Dounia watched everything with a surprisingly discerning eye. What was that grin from one porter to the other? And had Voltus shared a look with Chrizdoff? Dounia had a sneaking suspicion that this was a set-up - that somebody was being baited to fight. And she had fallen for it! She'd led Tymythy right into what might be a trap! Biting her lip, all she could do was prey that he was equal to it.
"I think this was the whole point," she whispered to the others. "I think they were baiting somebody to fight Voltus. Oh, I hope this wasn't a mistake!"
She clutched the usriev tightly and watched with baited breath.
Zahra tried to give a critical eye to each of the challengers as they took their places. It seemed like Lord Badrelow was a bit too eager to fight. What he said and his demeanour seemed like he was being driven by racial hate or other beliefs and values that were influencing his decision making. Either way, his thoughts and feelings were propelling him to participate and not merely a friendly contest of skills.
She leaned over to Cairee and Dounia and whispered, "I think Lord Badrelow has ulterior motives for participating. I'm not sure that this display meant to entertain is going to end well." She grabbed Cairee's hand for comfort, "I think you're right, Cairee."
Tymythy frowned as Ousel landed on his shoulder and whispered in his ear. He had noted - Aparisterous was it? - seeking acknowledgement from the Cavalier, but being ignored, but if Cairee had seen more to it than him... it wasn't like he was fighting for the reward, and nothing in the rules had forbidden a teamup. Still, perhaps it was worth it to keep one eye on the pair, despite the fact that he had apparently just saved the Cavalier's comrade from an ignoble death. It would be easy for... mistakes to be made in a melee like this.
At Chrizdoff's 'MARK', Aparisterous moved in a blink to Voltus' side and thrust boldly with his spear. The spear shot straight forward and Voltus rolled away from it, but not fast enough.
A long 'OOOOOOOOOOOHH!' came from the crowd but they seemed more impressed by Voltus flexibility than Aparisterous' quick cut.
Chrizdoff barely got out a, "First blood! A talon to Aparisterous!", as Voltus continued his roll, kicked up with one leg, turned it into a flying axel, and (with one hand on Aparisterous' shoulder and the other on his short spear) flipped sideways over his foe and was suddenly ten feet behind him.
Voltus landed with bent knees and ran to the water. A few laboured steps and he was under the clear lake's surface.
Tymythy acknowledged the first hit landed but noted the crowd hadn’t been overly impressed by Aparisterous’s efforts. The elven seneschal, however, got the reaction he had hoped for when he spilled away from his foe effortlessly and darted towards the lake... diving a lot deeper than Tymythy had expected. No, he didn’t just seek to deny his foes stable footing and quick approach, but he actually submerged himself in water!
Only then did Tymythy recall the strange hue of the elf’s skin and the gently rippling skin flaps on his sides. He had written them off as yet another strange ornament, but... were they gills? Did the seneschal intend to fight them from under the surface?
Tymythy found himself grinning. This was going to be interesting.
Deciding it would be a very bad idea to fight an amphibian in his own element but also believing the elf was in no rush to accommodate his opponents by returning to dry land the hunter took a running start and jumped, landing nimbly on the closest post sticking up from the water.
Voltus was moving through the water like any person could move on land.
Tymythy landed on the first post easily and held tightly in place. Cairee, Zara and the others could hear Sir Pellius mutter, "Is that spearman smiling?"
A little more plodding, Badrelow and the bodyguard (who's name Griddeon was whispered in the audience), rushed to the water and jumped on post-tops of their own. Aparisterous rushed into the water nearly chest deep.
Voltus eeled his way deeper and both Badrelow and Aparisterous took opportunities to go spear fishing. Both came up empty. Voltus speed in the water was marvelous and he emerged fast enough to launch himself out of the water and to a standing position on a post 2' above the water level.
He turned to face the others. He raised his left foot onto his right thigh and laid his short spear across his lap.
Dounia gasped with surprise and delight when Voltus dove into the water and vanished. Then Tymythy was leaping onto a log, and the others were splashing around, stabbing with their spears. When Voltus launched onto a log and adopted a stance of relaxation, Dounia laughed. So did much of the audience.
Realizing that audience approval could be important, she turned to the others. "We need to help! Not cheat, but whatever we can do to get the audience on board. Do you two have any magic that could help? Call down some crows for effect? Sparkles or sounds? Let's give this crowd a show!"
Dounia had no magic, and she didn't have the gift of persuasion that Cyra had (though perhaps her time spent in Cyra's skin in the mirror had rubbed off on her a little). However, she knew how to use her body.
Still holding the usriev, she leapt into an open area of sand, well away from the conflict, and began to dance.
Her mission was to emphasize any of Tymythy's skills and victories, and diminish the other three. She didn't dare (and in truth, didn't want to) make mockery of Voltus. But the other three were fair game.
The usriev was heavy, and she didn't know how to wield it. However, she knew enough about her own momentum to use it to aid her. Balancing the usriev upright for a moment (it was wonderfully balanced!), Dounia backed away a step, then lunged at it lightning fast with a dagger, pretending to be Aparisterous slicing at Voltus. She let the spear fall, and leapt forward into air, arcing her body like a diver, only hit the sand in a smooth forward roll. Next she was Tymythy - she grabbed up the spear again, and leapt up as if to land upon it. Finally she lunged forward twice, stabbing with a dagger in a clumsy manner, and finally stamping her feet around as if in great frustration, a disappointed scowl on her face.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Zahra yelped when Aparisterous drew blood from Voltus but then cheered when Voltus evaded further harm and got to the water.
She cheered again when Tymythy followed to the water and balanced on one of the poles.
"We need to help! Not cheat, but whatever we can do to get the audience on board. Do you two have any magic that could help? Call down some crows for effect? Sparkles or sounds? Let's give this crowd a show!"
Zahra agreed with Dounia but didn't think her magic was powerful enough to reach the whole crowd so she tried something else to sway the crowd. She hoped that it would catch on with those around her and then spread to those further away. She knew she needed to keep it simple so others could join in.
She started to rhythmically stomp each of her feet followed by a clap. After a couple of repeats she added,
She encouraged those around her to add their own stompa and claps in rhythm with her. If Tymythy's name was on everyone's mind and tongue then she hoped it would give him a leg up on the others.
Voltus was certainly making things look easy, Tymythy thought as the agile elf dove out of the water to land easily on a pole to wait for the challengers to get closer. And wait he might have to, considering Tymythy had just found out just how damp and slippery the tops of the poles were. Getting from one to the other would be a minor feat in itself… but the thought of fighting an aquatic elf in his own element, and a master of his craft no doubt since he had intended to demonstrate his skill to the audience… he felt that was a battle he should not even attempt – it would be trivial for the seneschal to outmanoeuvre him, or just wrestle with him underwater until he ran out of air.
Well, best get started, he thought, and launched himself towards… and landed in water as the slippery top of the pole conspired against him. Well, at least the water wasn’t too deep where he was… but unfortunately the pole proved just as slippery to climb up as it had to jump from.
Cairee clapped along with Zahra's chant. But she was more interested in studying the ritual than she was in trying to influence the outcome. There could be a message here. What was it? She had heard a rumor that some judges thought a Cavalier had been bribed to throw the games. Was it Badrelow? Had Aparisterous been the one to bribe him? Or was this completely unrelated? She watched Badrelow closely for a few moments.
As she watched, a thought occurred to her. Who wasn't watching the fight? She looked around for Ousel and saw the small thrush on a nearby post, seemingly watching the lake. Cairee leaned in and murmered, "Ousel, will you please fly around the arena and see if there is anyone taking advantage of this distraction? Is anything else of note going on?"
Badrelow crouched deeply with his arms out before him. His spear was in his right hand. He forward leapt to the post ahead of him and hit the side to fall backwards into the water. Soaking wet he grabbed onto the post and heaved his heavy body up. His beard looked like he was wearing a drenched cat and his face was red and angry.
Gribbeon made a play for the post Tymythy was last on and followed suit. Waist deep in water, he clambered onto his post. He looked at Tymythy and with a thick Eusabionan accent, "If you can't learn ta climb then learn ta get out of the way."
Aparis dove into the deeper lake between he and Voltus and swam with remarkable grace to a post further ahead. The much of the crowd was very distracted watching Dounia's antics so the show of skill only turned a few heads.
Voltus stretched out with the leg he had raised and made a calm step to the post adjacent to Aparis'. The elf then drew his other leg in front of him so that it hooked out and his foot was between them.
He stood very still.
Zahra noticed a few of the audience were tapping their feet near her. She was warming them up but could she sustain it?
Dounia's pantomime was also working and in good time. Some of the crowd missed Tymythy's fall into the water but were in full view of how Badrelow and Aparis missed their stabs at Voltus.
-
In the mean time …
Ousel looked at Cairee and nodded then flew off her shoulder. The blackbird made a wide arc behind everyone and headed counterclockwise. She flew high to get a wide view.