"Town square. Now if there are no more questions... NEEEEEEXT" the man then motions for you to leave, snapping his fingers as your paper disappears in a puff of smoke.
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The man fills in the information dutifully, before commenting "haven't had a shrubber sign up yet." He nonetheless continues to write down everything and when Chukie has finished he passes a hand over the papers and whispers an incantation, "All I need you to do now is sign here. You can write I assume" As he waits for Chukie to write the man responds to his question, "registration ends in five days, information will be given then, events start two days later."
Chukie:
The tournament registrar doesn't lift his head from his papers "One moment sir, I'll be right with you," he responds plainly. A moment passes, and then two and finally he looks up at Chukie one eyebrow immediately raising up as if to question the nature of the man-tiger-thing before him.
"Hello... sir," he says after a second of deliberation, "I'll need you to tell me your name, the names of your fellows, and the group name you wish to enter by. If you're representing any particular lords or ladies I'll want their information as well. If you have claim to any titles or lands within the Great and Bountiful Human Empire of Cellerus I will need documents proving as much. I will also need this information for any other members of your group." The man dips his quill into his inkwell and begins to tap at the right corner of the page waiting for response. Everybody else: You're all standing around when suddenly you hear a voice behind you.
"Quite the large number of people isn't it?" comes the cool, measured, always out-of-place voice of the man you met earlier, Nigel Marae, "I simply cannot fathom why these folk cannot take instructions appropriately. To be fair though I suppose I'm rarely one to follow the rules to the letter," he chuckles. "It's good to see you fine gentlemen again, and so soon. I see you're missing one of your group. The tiger-man. Is he registering for you?" He seems to be smiling more broadly at having seen you again, or perhaps it was always that wide. You imagine he must practice at it quite a bit for him to be able to grin so... wide.
Alaris is clearly just looking about at the crowd, more concerned with sizing up his potential competitors than with actually registering for the event. The rest of the group manages to hear the crier over the shouts and general hullabaloo of the crowd. "Please just send up one representative! There is no need for entire teams to come up here! One man, register with any of the men on the steps! Please do not push and shove, there is plenty of time!" He yells out, his voice assisted by magic. The rest of his yelling seems to focus on trying to keep some semblance of order.
The group moves up the street, fighting through the crowd that only gets more and more dense as they near the courthouse steps. At the top there are at a dozen men standing, and a gross more all around. People are shouting out, and guards are trying to keep the peace as best as they can. At the top of the steps there is a man looking down, waving a paper in hand, and yelling out over the crowd. Even with his voice assisted by magic it is difficult to hear him over the din.
"I...if you don't have a place already you're p...probably not likely to find somewhere." The guard calls out as the group begins heading down the way.
The guards eyes go wide for a moment, and then the initial shock wears off "C...C...Courthouse steps. Right d...d...down the way." he says, pointing north.
blurs:
The group is able to quickly find their way back to the public practice area. Men and women of all sorts are practicing their various crafts, with guards stationed around to keep the peace. PERCEPTION CHECKS
10:
You can't really see an open spot. On an unrelated note, you believe that the guards could not handle any serious problems, and are mostly here for show. 15: You notice several free areas; it looks like there are spots designated for mage duels as well as for melee combat. The only free area large enough to contain the melee that you intend is currently occupied by two men sparring.
The crowd begins to disperse after being yelled at by the tiger-man. A few merchants yell over one another, trying to plug their stalls or shops before finally heading off in many different directions.
The crowd falls silent as Chukie stands transformed before them. Whispers of what kind of magics are involved begin to circulate, the hushed noises turning into a loud conversation. And when Thane goes invisible the crowd goes crazy, part out of excitement, part out of fear, and part out of the pure curiousness of it all. When the arrows begin to fly many in the crowd jump back, startled by the Sommarian now standing before them. Those men who were cajoling Thane before have stopped, unable to comprehend the fact that five arrows managed to find the air and fly true purely through physical perfection of bow technique.
A crowd has begun to gather around at the sight of these men. Some warriors who had been passing by have stopped to watch the scrawny monk. Already some men are calling out for bets to be placed. City guards are simply watching to make sure that bystanders remain unaffected. As Thane draws so many arrows and holds them so awkwardly, a wave of laughter and sniggering ripples through the crowd. Hecklers call out
It is a fine early spring day in the great empire of Cellerus, and particularly so in the city of Stillwillow. A cool breeze floats through the trade district, carrying the calls of merchants and sell-swords through the packed city streets. The sun beats down upon the brows of countless men, native and migrant alike. Countless men have gathered to seek gold and glory against the gauntlet of magical trials that have been set up by the various magical races of Sariel. The trials were announced as happening close to a month ago, though the people of Stillwillow could tell something was being planned many months earlier. Elvish emissaries, an uncommon sight here, had met with several human officials from the capital city a while back. That was when the rumors started up. Some men thought it was the pre-amble to war, some men thought it had to do with that crazy preacher who was spreading his infernal message in Sorcuth, some even joked that the elves were just looking for better whorehouses. Wives gossiped at their chores, children did so in their schoolhouses, and merchants did it in the city bathhouses. Nobody ever guessed the true cause. Two months ago to the day a letter was put to every public board, and delivered to the residences of every crown knight and lord of the kingdom.
Early this morning the crowds gathered to the square. Janos Alaryn was standing at the top of the temple steps, to his left were two elvish men, one old and one young but both dressed in the house colors of elven royalty. To Alaryn's right was a short man, squat and stout he wore leather, steel tools at his side and a pair of fine goggles atop his head, there was no mistaking that this was the first dwarf seen by the common man in decades. To the right of the dwarf was a man dressed in white robes woven with the golden symbols of the Ecclesiarchy of Sorcuth. "Today," Alaryn spoke in a deep, measured voice, clearly having practiced what he was about to say countless times, "marks an historic occasion. All men of Sariel have gathered one of our greatest city to test themselves against trials devised by the most powerful mages and engineers on the planet." He paused for a moment, a smile slowly spreading across his face before he began anew. "The rules are quite simple. No fewer than three men may compete together, and no more than ten. Each challenge must be completed by any means at your disposal. That is it. Registration ends in five days, and the first round begins two days after that. The first trial of this tournament will last for one month, after which time those who were able to muster the strength to succeed shall be told of the second challenge."[/b] The audience's reaction was mixed. Some men, who thought this tournament to be one purely of combat began to shout in disapproval, while others breathed sighs of relief knowing they would be competing with their allies instead of against. For a moment it seemed as if half the crowd was going to start a riot. "The possible winnings from the first trial total nearly one hundred thousand gold pieces for each winning team," spoke the King's Voice, and silence descended over the crowd. A purse of that size, and for simply overcoming one round... this was truly to be a tournament like no other. Now the trade district was full of men of all walks of life, trying to nail down a plan of action or to recruit others to their causes. In the hours since the announcement one thing has become clear, wealth and glory have come to the gates of this city, and only the greatest honor awaits. |