A riverboat ferries you up the East Sellen River to Restove, the capital of Brevoy. As you disembark, the unmistakable figure--stout, bald, and a magnificent beard--Marcos Farabellus greets you.
"Ah, agents! So very good to see you! Welcome to Restov. I hope your journey wasn’t too bothersome. This time of year the mosquitoes on the Sellen can be worse than falling face first and buck naked into a patch of poison ivy." Marcos punctuates his own jest with a bellowing laugh. "Let’s get you all a bit freshened up before I get to the heart of the matter."
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A petite young woman with burgundy, almost purple, hair rushes out to the deck. "Are we here?! Oh, it's about time!" She steps off the riverboat with a bit of twirl and flare to her movements and comes up to the group. You note that she has a mismatched set of eyes, with one a soft brown and the other a vibrant green.
Her voice is peppy as she addresses Farabellus. "Hiya boss! Whatcha got for us?" She shoos away a mosquito and then with a huff of frustration and a snap of her fingers, her hand is suddenly wreathed in green fire as she tries to burn away the insects near her.
She turns to the rest of you. "Hi, I'm Gwen! Savan needed a bit of a rest, so I told him I would go in his place. He's a sweet kitty, but sometimes he needs his naps. Gets a bit grumpy otherwise."
"Food first; work later," Farabellus says with a hearty chuckle. He leads you over to a nearby vendor selling fried fish and fried vegetables arrayed on skewers. "Pick what you like, it's on me." He, himself, buys a skewer of crayfish.
Once you have each selected what you wish, he leads you toward the city proper. He bites off chunks of crayfish, shell and all, and crunches in between sentences as he speaks. "First off, thank you for coming. This is a bit of an unusual ‘mission’, so let me get right to it. I received a challenge recently from Orlaelia Aldori. She’s an up-and-coming swordmaster here in Restov. Claims her students are capable of besting any of mine. Now, I get challenges like that all the time, and normally I ignore them. But this time? Well, there’s a little bit more to it. A double-edged sword, so to speak." He lets out a small chuckle. "Which is apt, because one of these extras is a sword. Orlaelia has bet Inheritor’s Fury, her old longsword, on this deal. She used to be a Mendevian crusader, you see, and the sword has seen the depths of the Worldwound. It’s a relic in its own right and an item the Society would love to study in depth, not to mention a valuable piece of modern history deserving proper cataloging and preservation.
"While the pursuit of a relic alone would not merit taking you away from your other duties, this challenge also gives us a chance to make new friends and acquaintances in Restov. It’s been a while since the society had an active presence here. Rising to this challenge could give us a friendly rival at worst and some new friends at best.
"Orlaelia, though a veteran of many battles, is still Taldan at heart, from what I know at least, and still loves the arts. So! While this challenge will culminate in a duel between you and her students, she will most likely have a few other tests in mind that go beyond raw combat. Who can say what they’ll be. From what I hear her style is quite practical, but old veterans like us see lessons in the strangest of places." He smiles, perhaps thinking of similar examples from his own past, though doesn’t elaborate further. "I’ve opened up Birchwood Hall, our lodge here. Haven’t managed to get all the damp and dust out yet, but that shouldn’t bother us overmuch. I’m sure you’ve all seen much worse during your travels."
You arrive at the steps of the Birchwood Hall a moment after Farabellus finishes speaking. He leads you through the main sitting room into a wood paneled conference room. There’s a faint smell of dust in the air that the open windows have yet to dispel.
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Grammy, for some reason, seems to be largely immune to the insects and also seems to be reveling in the overall atmosphere of the swamp.
"Ah, such a lovely place you've finally brought us to capatin, thank you." While the others might mean that sarcastically, Grammy seems to be genuine in her appreciation.
"Though I can't imagine some young wippersnappers would find much use in fighting an old codger like me, I'd be happy to help you with any herblore that might come up on some of these tests. Why, this fine are seems to have invigorated me."
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Gwen leans over the skewers to see what's available. She wrinkles her nose at the fried vegetables and takes a skewer of fish meat. The changeling nibbles delicately at the fish at first. She must like it though as she begins pulling off hunks of it to gobble down. Nevertheless, she wipes her mouth, dabbing lightly.
As Farabellus describes the challenge, Gwen seems to be admiring her nails and paying little mind to the VC. Finally, she gives a bored sigh, muttering "Ugh, tests. Maybe I should have made Savan come."
She looks up, saying, "So this Orlaelia lady thinks she's better than you, and if we prove otherwise, we get a fancy sword relic. Do we have to fight fair? Not really my thing." She flips her burgundy hair back for no reason.
When they get to the hall, she makes a face at the smell. "How long has it been since someone was in here?"
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Resting lazily in one of the nearyby bushes is a very tiny melexie sprite that looks a lot like a normal mix between a wasp and a bee. It snores quietly, drunk on its latest batch of honey and taking in the sights. It's recent flight seems to have brought it to Brevoy of all places. As everyone begins speaking loudly he slowly wakes up. "Oh hello, Who are you all?"
Farabellus answers Bashii, "Other than the duel? I’m not sure but you can count on her coming up with some good ones that will surely test the body and mind in interesting ways."
His face drops its usual friendly smile and turns serious when Gwendolyn asks about fighting fair. "If you're in the duel and fighting, whatever techniques you use should be acceptable. However, don't think about trying to sabotage the other team. That is not in the spirit of this contest."
His face remains somber but turns sad as the changeling asks her following question. "Since the Siege of Gallowspire. You're all probably too newly recruited to remember that. Venture-Captain Alvar Hadrias used to be in charge, but he’s been missing since the Siege. Due to the time that’s
passed, we must assume he perished during that mission. The hall hasn’t had a venture-captain in residence since."
His expression brightens and he smiles when tiny melexie walks in through the window. "I'm Marcos Farabellus. You're a Pathfinder? Welcome!"
There is a hard knock at the door. "Ah! That must be our challenger," Farabellus says. "Come with me to the sitting room. Be on your best behavior. And also try to look impressive."
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When Farabellus tell her not to sabotage the other team, Gwen tries to look innocent. "I mean..."
At the knock, Gwen looks startled. "They're here now?" She quickly brushes her hair and checks herself in a mirror. She adjusts the scarf that's tied around her neck.
Gwen goes to help Grammy towards the door. As they approach, she waves a hand and four orange flame lights appear to softly light the space.
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When Farabellus tell her not to sabotage the other team, Gwen tries to look innocent. "I mean..."
At the knock, Gwen looks startled. "They're here now?" She quickly brushes her hair and checks herself in a mirror. She adjusts the scarf that's tied around her neck.
Gwen goes to help Grammy towards the door. As they approach, she waves a hand and four orange flame lights appear to softly light the space.
”Why thank you Gwen, dear, so kind.”
Marcos opens the door with an air of nervousness. A party of five waits outside, led by a middle-aged woman with her dark hair pulled back into a simple knot. She wears woolen trousers beneath her sensible skirts and a thick leather jerkin with an emblem embroidered on the right side.
"Marcos Farabellus!" the woman grins widely and gives him a firm--and long--handshake. While this extended handshake goes on, you take note that the four students behind her wear similar jerkins. All carry a distinctive Aldori dueling sword strapped to their hips.
Orlaelia Aldori looks you over as she lets go of Marcos' hand and enters with her students trailing behind her. "I thought you said there were five?" she asks. Both Grammy and Buzz are certain that the woman looked right at them when she said that despite their being in different parts of the room. "Don't expect us to go easy on you," she adds with a competitive twinkle in her eye. "Students. Introduce yourselves."
The first to introduce herself is a half orc woman with long black hair in an intricate braid. She wears her school jerkin partially open to reveal a spotless white blouse underneath. Her pants are a light brown linen and don’t show a crease out of place. "I am Dura Aldori," she says and throws a wink at Gwendolyn.
A human man in his late twenties with short brown hair steps up next. "I am Halran Aldori," he says and gives you a fancy bow. He completes his school jerkin with riding pants and boots and wears a single pearl earring in his right ear.
"I am Rhenei Aldori," a white and gray furred ysoki says brusquely as they give an equally curt curtsy. Their school jerkin has a few extra pockets sewn on and they wear colorful layered skirts along with wraps around their back paws, leaving the toes open.
The final student, a gnome with golden hair in a bowl cut that looks as if she performed it herself, practically thrums with energy. She looks ready to explode into a thousand questions, but ends up saying, "Thisnabel Aldori! I am. Me. That's me, I mean." Her school jerkin looks as if it had several minor accidents with various substances and bears odd stains. She wears practical leather pants laced up down the sides and leather boots which have seen better days.
Marcos turns to you and says, "And my Pathfinders are..."
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Gwen smiles at Dura and winks back. "I'm Gwendolyn Faran." She makes a curtsy motion even though she is wearing soft breeches that are tight against her legs. She unconsciously touches the scarf around her neck and then realizes what she's doing and tries to hide it by adjusting it briefly.
"We're so pleased to have you here. I hope our little challenge won't get in the way of us getting to know one another." She gives the visitors a dazzling smile though you sense a undertone of hunger as she shows her teeth.
"I have proposed a series of three challenges," Orlaelia says once the introductions are complete. "We will, of course, have a duel. That will be the third and final challenge. However, my experiences in the crusades fighting demons have taught her that to not only survive, but win decisively, one needs more than a strong sword arm and quick reflexes. As the challenger, it is our responsibility to act with generosity and nobility toward you. Therefore, you may choose the other two challenges from the list I propose."
The swordlord goes on to describe several tests of various skills both physical and mental. "A flyting, bragging, and insult competition to demonstrate each contestant's wit. Unnerving your opponent can win a battle before it is even fought." She explains the rules to you .
"A good poem can impress friends and allies and discredit an enemy, giving an advantage before a duel even starts. Each team could craft a poem."
"Who doesn't like a good, old tug-of-war?"
"During official duels and training matches there is always a first aid professional close by; however, by their nature duelists usually aren’t so lucky when accepting a challenge in the heat of the moment outside of such formal settings. I have seen enough of her friends and comrades die in the Worldwound before first aid could reach them. It’s always best to be prepared and have someone on your team trained to save your life."
"Sometimes you have to take down an opponent in an unconventional way, without harming them."
"Conditions on the battlefield and during a duel often vary. One might have to battle with the low sun blindingly shining in their eyes or be awoken in the depths of night by a rampaging creature. A sharp sense of perception can be the difference between life and death."
"Very well," Orlaelia says as you come to a consensus. She nods to Marcos who steps outside for a moment. "The poetry contest is a test of your abilities to construct a poem rather than your skill in performing one. You may withdraw to the library for inspiration and quiet. Both Marcos and I will serve as judges. We will shuffle the poems so that we do not know which team wrote which poem."
Marcos returns and says to the Swordlord, "Should be here by the time they finish this challenge."
She nods. "Set to it, now."
Round 1
Bold may act
Buzz
Grammy
Gwendolyn
Jig
Bashii
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Grammy tilts her head back, closes her eyes, and begins to speak-sing.
"Oh I made a call out too the sea
and the sea, she called back to me
The wales did sing, their haunting song
The waves were drumgs, on the beaches long
The seaweed backed, as it grew
And the sound of the fish, was there too
Oh I made a song, out to the see
and the sea, she sung back to me."
Grammy Thistledown comes up with a theme and initial framework for the poem.
Round 1. Bold may act.
Buzz
Grammy
Gwendolyn
Jig
Bashii
Jig adds details to the poem.
Round 1. Bold may act.
Buzz
Grammy
Gwendolyn
Jig
Bashii
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"We have to let them perform it?" Gwen pouts. "Cause I could totally make this into more of a jig or add some syncopation. Oh, we could even rap it!"
She makes a sidelong face, deep in thought. "Ok, ok. Let's just get some traditional structure that's hard for them to screw with. We don't want it sounding like a haiku."
Round 1 Score: 5
Round 2 (partial) Score: 6
Round 2: 7
Round 3: 11
Round 4: 14
Once you turn in your submission, the poems are shuffled blindly and then each reach in turn by Marcos and Orlaelia. "I like this one," Marcos says setting down the page he just finished reading.
"Yes. That one is quite evocative," Orlaelia agrees. "Who wrote the one about the call of the sea?"
The two weapon masters congratulate you on a task well done. "I appreciated the varied linguistic folds you used," Orlaelia says. "Quite clever."
"We might have done better if there hadn't been so much caterwauling," Harlan comments under his breath, both his tone and expression even. "I thought the library was for quiet contemplation."
Orlaelia clicks her tongue. "I taught you to drown out distractions, did I not? Your team's work was good, but the Pathfinders put more heart into theirs. I trust you will apply more fire to the next challenge."
"No. No fire in the next challenge," Marcos says. "I strongly recommend that you do not use fire in the next challenge."
Orlaelia nods. "I meant it in the figurative sense: fire, passion."
"This next challenge is one of using non-lethal means to capture your target," Marcos explains just as a courier brings a sturdy pet carrier. Orlaelia takes the carrier into the garden as growling and yowling noises emerge from within the carrier. "To practice this, Mephisto will be released into the garden. You need to capture him without harming him. Only one person is allowed to attempt to capture him at a time. Any questions?"
Orlaelia returns with several fresh scratches on her bracers and nods to Marcos. "When they're ready."