As Drake reels, Elgan prepares for his inevitable counter-attack. He spots the man apparently going for another powerful blow, and takes up a defensive posture as a result, knowing that it worked well for him before. However, Drake comes out with a series of fast jabs instead. Elgan dodges the first couple but is unprepared for the rapid assault, and is quickly overwhelmed, taking multiple jabs. Just as he tries to slip away to adjust, Drake catches him in the jaw with a solid blow and the elven man falls to the ground.
There is a brief period of time where all look on in silence, shock and awe on the faces visible around the railing. Even the fight master seems surprised by the outcome, and after he snaps out of his shock he steps to the center of the ring. "We have a winner!" he says, lifting one of Drake's arms in the air triumphantly. The room erupts into cheers and the sounds of people shouting to one another, some sounding happy while others sound quite upset.
"Hot damn, you did it," the fight master says, now a normal volume that only you can hear through the roar of the crowd. "Can't even remember the last time I saw Elgan defeated, let alone out cold," he says, shaking his head as he turns to look to the man.
Elgan does not attempt to see through bluff and goes for a defensive stance, rolling a crit fail with 11. Drake gets the bonus, making his total 27. Crit counts for 2 wins, so that gives Drake the round and the match
As Elgan falls to the ground, Drake wipes away the last of the blood from his mouth with his thumb before raising his fist into the air triumphantly. "I won't lie, it was close," Drake says to the fighting master. "But all that matters is who wins. No prizes for second place," he adds.
"Yes!" Valcus shouts, raising his fist in the air. "Yes!"
He bellows down from the upper-level approvingly, clapping his hands together in applause.
"That was not what I was expecting," the man says excitedly, turning to the Talon. "That punch Elgan landed on his chin? I thought he was going to fall like a tree."
Caelen grins widely, watching the fight progress with as much interest as Dustin. He lets out a cheer as Drake surpasses Elgan and comes out on top. "Yes! That was amazing! I guess I underestimated Drake!" He takes a deep breath, slowly coming down from the rush of the spectacle. "Wow, what a fight. I thought Elgan had him, but then he turned it around with ease."
"Very true," the fighter master responds. After a moment he releases your arm and goes to help Elgan up, as the elf comes to. He man looks dazed for a second, but then as he stands he looks to you with a grin.
"A fantastic fight," he said. "A shame I do not get to test out your friend as well, but it was a pleasure to lose to you. I will be sure to return the favor next time," he says, as he makes his way to the exit.
With that the fight master leads you back out of the fighting pit and back to the waiting area. When you step in, many turn and look on in shock. Many of the men and women come up to you, seeming eager to speak with the man who'd beaten Elgan one-on-one, making it difficult to move through. The fight master simply proceeds to call on the next fighters.
You recall that Delma was the elven woman responsible for taking bets and doling out winnings. She is off to the side and she watches you with a smile as your all but mobbed by the other fighters.
Dustin continues leaning forward as the fight progresses, and as Drake lands the finishing blow he leaps out of his seat in excitement. "Fantastic!" he shouts as he does so, and as you are shouting as well. "Absolutely fantastic. This is what I came here for! I could not be happier right now," he says, and the look on his face suggests this to be true.
Carl simply chuckles as his friend acts so childish, motioning for him to sit back down. After a moment he obliges, though continues by turning to you and saying, "man, I'm so glad I saw you guys on the street. Truly, this was a dream come true. I've been a fan of 'the Ser Drake Aerden' since I was younger, and to see him winning a brawl - against Elgan, of all people. It's," he pauses, seeming at a momentary loss for words. "It's just fantastic."
"You've said that three times now," Carl says, shaking his head though still smirking, clearly amused by the man's outburst, enough so that he seems unconcerned about losing the bet. "It was quite the fight, though, I will admit. It is not often we get to witness such talent going head to head. The best fighters so rarely get matched up."
"We'll see," Drake says with a smile to Elgan as he leaves the fighting pit.
The young Lord simply smiles and nods in response to questions and greetings as he slowly pushes his way through the crowd towards Delma. "I believe you have something for me," he says with a smirk once he finally reaches the elf.
"Yes, of course!" the woman says excitedly, handing over a heavy coinpurse. "I never expected to see anyone but Elgan walking back to claim the prize. You must be very excited," she continues with a smile.
Some of the people who'd been hounding you seem to have gotten your hint and backed off as you brushed most people off, but a few continue to try to talk to you. Noticeably absent from the group trying to make your acquaintance is the Specter, who instead you spot on the opposite side of the room, sitting alone. They face in the same general direction you are, though given their face covering you cannot tell if they are looking at your or something else.
"I'm glad you chanced upon us too," Caelen says with a chuckle over the man's giddiness. "That was definitely a fight I'll never forget. He'll put on a good show at the tournament!"
Smirking, he adds, "I'll be sure to tell Drake how excited his biggest fan was over that victory."
Drake pockets the coin purse with another smile. "Thank you. I am, although perhaps not as excited as everyone else," he says with a laugh. "To me Elgan was just another competitor."
He eyes the Specter across the room for a moment. I guess after Elgan they're the one to watch in the final bout.
Valcus makes his way down to where the rest of the fighters are collected, approaching Drake and clapping a heavy palm on his shoulder. "Masterfully done. Guess we will be seeing each other in the brawl after all, won't we?" He grins widely at his friend.
"Thank you. It looks like we will," Drake says returning his friend's grin. "Let's not go too hard on each other if it comes down it eh?" He says with a smirk.
Valcus winks, saying nothing else. It may not be in the spirit of good sportsmanship, but these are dire times, and we are in dire need of funding. Those refugees out there need supplies... Our equipment needs replacement... and we always need coin to provide results in times where our words and tact do not.
He scans the room, counting heads and seeing who is among them.
Valcus steps away, once more leaving you standing on your own watching the pit below. There are a handful of other people still on this balcony level, but they don't really pay you any mind. In not long, the next set of fighters step into the ring...
Dustin sits back in his chair, still smiling but clearly back down to a normal energy level. "Oh yeah, it's a real sight to see," Dustin responds. "I didn't know if he'd be good at a brawl when I invited him here, but he sure is good at the tourneys. Definitely going to have more money riding on him there." After a moment, he leans in closer and in a lower voice says, "but, uh, you didn't hear that last part," before giving you a wink.
Carl simply rolls his eyes, saying, "I am more interested in Emrys, personally. You'd think with her fame she'd come here more often, but it seems we never get to see her anymore."
Dustin frowns at the mention of the knight. "Miriam's been so much less patient since Emrys got here. I wish they got along better." Carl turns to respond, but before he can the sound of the next group of fighters is heard below...
As you guys are speaking you can see the fight master grab the next two fighters, two men who appear to be in their mid to late 20s. One is a human, who seems quite muscular and holds himself in a way that suggests he comes here often. The other is an elf, who seems much more lithe but still toned. They exit through the door and head on their way to the pit.
In addition to all previous round winners, there are a half dozen or so other men and women you've not seen fight yet. There is also Delma, the woman taking bets and doling out winnings, as well as a few other elven servant women tending to injuries and providing refreshments. If you've a specific fighter you want to ask about that you've already seen fight, let me know and I can tell you what they are doing.
"Alright folks, time for the tenth round of the evening," the fight master booms, stepping into the ring with two new men in tow. "On my right is another crowd favorite. He's big, he's strong, and he's solid as a rock. It's Stonewall Samwell!" Stepping forward is a human man who looks to be in his mid twenties. He wears a simple shirt that appears to barely fit over his muscular physique. His face is very square and he has a pronounced chin that is covered by a short-trimmed beard. He steps forward slowly and turns to face his foe, eschewing theatrics, but the crowd cheers for him all the same.
"And on my left, he's still a relative newcomer but that hasn't stopped him making a name for himself, it's Goreau the Dodger!" An elf makes his way forward, seeming to be in his mid twenties as well. He is smaller and shorter than the other man, but seems quite nimble. He jumps to his side back and forth a few times rapidly, before doing a spinning jump kick in the air, landing to face his opponent. Some cheer, though not nearly as much as for Samwell.
Samwell seems to be the pretty clear choice of victor this round. Goreau's movements, while flashy, look quite sloppy. Samwell's cold confidence and sheer physique suggest he will easily stomp the elf.
Valcus approaches the fighter previously introduced as the Specter. "Well fought," he says with a warm smile. "How long have you been a part of the Pinnacle?" the man asks, studying the figure.
Perception check to try and assess the physique, height, and build of the individual beneath the facade. Is their frame feminine, masculine, tall, short? Do they have a particular musk about them? 12(1d20) +2 = 14
The Specter had been gazing in a direction roughly towards where you and Drake were standing when you begin your trek towards them, sitting at a wall on the opposite side of the room. As you draw nearer you see their head turn to face you more directly, and they look up in curiosity as you approach. After you speak they continue to look towards you, but do not respond. They do, however, fold their arms, which had been resting in their lap before.
Now closer up, you can see that they appear to be of a height comparable to Caelen or Zara, and like both are fairly thin and toned. Their outfit makes it difficult to tell if their physique is male or female even from this distance, but given their size - especially that of their hands and feet - you get a sense that female is more likely. That or male but young. The most distinctive features that reveal themselves up close are that they have a distinct hint of lavender scent, and that they appear to wear an intricate and expensive-looking ring over their left middle finger.
"Not much of a talker," Valcus comments, subtly glancing at the expensive ring — noting the detail. "That's alright. I didn't mean to intrude. Just figured I'd say good luck before the final brawl." He gives a respectful nod to the Specter, stepping back toward Drake to determine his next course of action.
"Would you like to watch the next fight, or do you want to mingle some more?" Valcus asks his companion.
"I say we mingle a bit more, we might learn more about what we're up against," Drake replies to Valcus with a smile on his face from watching the conversation - or lack there of - between his friend and the Specter. "Also we did originally come here to see if we could find any leads on Menora's knowledge of the war. Hopefully Caelen has had more luck with that than us," he adds quietly.
"I'm going to place a bet though, I like that Samwise's chances," he adds, before quickly going over to Delma to place the bet.
"Hear what part?" Caelen says with a shrug, feigning a confused expression before he grins. He raises an eyebrow at the mention of the apparently-famed Emrys. "Who's Emrys? I'm guessing she's related to Miriam?"
His train of thought is interrupted as the next fight is about to begin. He gazes into the arena, focusing upon the fighters. "Goreau is looking sloppy there. I'll put money on Samwell." He waves down a servant, handing off a sack of coin.
Valcus steps toward the Grayhawk, offering a nod of his head. "Well fought out there against Kyffin," the knight says with a smile. "Seems like you're somewhat of a local legend. Have been been a part of this community at the Pinnacle a while?"
The Specter seems to watch you as you leave, but returns to their previous position once you are far enough away. Stepping over to Doran, you find the man drinking and flirting with the barmaid, another elven woman who looks to be in her late 20s and a bit more busty than most of the others you've seen. He turns as you approach, looking you up and down for a moment before setting his mug down and turning the rest of his body to face the same way his head is now facing.
"Yes, friend," he responds, standing and giving a dramatic pose as he does so. "Everyone here knows the Grey Hawk, so you must be new," he continues, as he relaxes once more and resumes sitting. "Oh yeah, you're one of those noblemen they announced right? Lord of some such place."
"Miriam's older sister," Dustin responds with a sigh.
"She's much more than that, don't sell her so short," Carl responds, looking a bit annoyed. Turning to you he says, "Emrys is one of the Queendom's finest knights, and her skills in the joust are some of the best in the land. She's spent a lot of the last few years traveling to compete in tourneys so she hasn't been around much. I miss her a lot when she's gone."
"It's hard for me," Dustin responds. "I like Emrys just fine, she has great stories and enjoys coming here and drinking with us, or sometimes competing herself. But her and Miriam do not get along. It's a real headache," he says, placing his hands to his temple. As the server comes to take your bet, the two men follow suit in placing bets on Samwell.
As you stand watching the events unfolding below you, you are approached once more. This time you are not met with the face of a fellow fighter, however, but that of a beautiful young elven woman with blond hair. She wears attire matching that of the other servants you've seen in the estate, though is certainly not one of the ones you've placed bets worth, nor either of the two he greeted you when you arrived.
"You did well out there, Lord Atherton was quite pleased with your performance," she says, softly enough that only you can hear, and wearing a smile as she speaks. "He'd like to know if you had interest in performing an additional task for him while you're already here. It promises to pay quite well, and may make him more inclined to speed up your permanent release. Interested?"
"Fight!" comes the call from the fight master as he steps off to the side. Samwell lunges forward for an immediate power attack while Goreau continues his defensive shifting. The larger man, to the smaller's surprise, moves instead towards a number of short quick jabs once the distance has been closed. Despite the deception, Goreau is too fast and manages to avoid each of the blows before landing a few quick jabs of his own.
Stepping back for a moment, Samwell feigns a defensive stance of his own. Goreau does not change his tactic, continuing his rapid motion defensive posture, and his gambit proves wise as Samwell instead goes for a powerful jab. Goreau manages to dodge it, but he does not see the second followup attack that immediately follows the first, and Samwell gets a solid shot against the elf's jaw as a result.
After landing the surprise hit against his foe Samwell moves to begin a series of rapid follow-up punches, or so it seems to Goreau. Frustrated at his defenses being broken, the elf lunges forward in an attempt to return the favor against the human. Samwell was hoping for this, however, and instead moves to block at the last moment. While solid swings, Samwell's strength and skill allows him to absorb the blows and when Goreau gets too close he head butts the man, sending him staggering backward momentarily.
As the fight draws towards its close, both of the fighters shift to their original tactics, with Samwell going for a solid powerful attack and Goreau on the defensive. Like before Samwell's tactics are a ruse, and as he draws near he goes for more rapid and short strikes instead. Unlike before, however, Goreau is simply too slow to dodge them all. The fight has worn him down too much, and after taking a number of blows from the larger man he falls over.
"And we have a winner!" the fight master shouts, rushing into the center and raising up one of Samwell's arms. The man stands as stoically as he'd done before, giving the master a nod. After a moment he reaches down and helps Goreau to his feet, giving the man a pat on his back and helping to brush off some of the sand, his chivalry only causing the cheers at his victory to grow louder. Goreau then makes his way out of the ring in one direction as the other two men return the way they came.
Caedus raises his eyebrow at the woman, before he clicks his tongue once. "Depends on what this job would be." He says, keeping his voice low so hopefully only the woman could hear.
"Ah," the elf says plainly as the two explain the situation. "So she's living in her sister's shadow. That explains a lot."I'd be bitter too if I wasn't as cool as my sister. If I even had a sister, or a brother.
He turns his attention towards the arena as the fight begins, watching in half-interest. His eyes move towards the frustrated Dustin. "At least you can escape here for some fun, right?"
"And I'm the other," Drake replies, joining Valcus in conversation with the Grey Hawk. Drake Aerden, Lord of the Spear, he continues introducing himself.
The woman steps closer as you show interest, standing near you and turning to face the arena below as well. In an even lower tone, sure to be audible only to yourself, she continues. "Lord Atherton would like an accident to occur during the final brawl. One of the competitors has been causing him to lose a lot of money, you see, and he'd like them to become unfit to participate in future gatherings."
She turns to face you now, her smile from before still streaking across her face. "If you can make that happen he'd owe his good fortune to you, and that is something he'd be inclined to repay in kind." As you speak, the next two fighters enter the ring behind the fight master.
"It is that to an extent, but not quite Dustin responds," Grabbing his mug and taking a swig from it after. He wipes his mouth on his arm and places the vessel back down before continuing. "The two never got a long, even as children. They are opposites on so many things. Miriam likes fashion and to mingle with the other ladies of the court, Emrys has always eschewed finery for armor and combat training. Miriam likes to gossip while Emrys abhors it. Miriam thinks drinking is slovenly and distasteful, while Emrys is happy to drink and tell tales with the rest of us. I could go on and on, but you get the gist. There are very few things those women agree on."
"The fame certainly doesn't help, though," Carl responds with a chuckle. "Back when they were kids Miriam would always tell Emrys she'd never amount to anything, never be as good as the boys, that she'd just waste her life away and never get a man. Now she's a famed knight and Miriam has accomplished nothing, other than becoming betrothed to Dustin here."
"Yeah," Dustin responds with a frown. "And it's not even the fairy tale romance she always dreamed of, since we are not in this for love but simply familial connections. She won't say it aloud, but I know she resents her sister most of all because she got everything she wanted out of life, and Miriam instead just has me."
"Now you're selling yourself short," Carl responds, more seriously now. "She could do much worse than you. And you could do much better." As he is saying this the next group of combatants enters the ring.
"Ha!" the man responds as the two of you introduce yourself. "'course you lords are friends. Well I'm lookin' forward to facing you both myself. 'specially you, Mr. Aerden," he responds. "Any man beats Elgan is sure to be a good fight."
Turning to Valcus he shakes his head. "Menora, born an' raised. Been workin' in this city since I was a kid. Got big, got in fights, won. Now I'm here gettin' coin for fightin'. Not enough to travel, though. I'm no knight."
As the two of you speak, you can see the fight master return with the victor of the previous bout, the larger of the two men. Two additional men then approach, one of whom is a dwarf with a large beard who appears to be in his mid 30s, and the other of whom is a large human who appears in his early 20s.
"Round eleven is now upon us!" the fight master shouts, as he enters the ring with two more brawlers in tow. "To my right we've got a rare treat, the famed brawler from Bal, a dwarf as tough as his beard is long! It's Mhuf the Mighty Fist!" The man steps forward, a dwarf looking to be in his mid 30s, and many of the crowd members cheer. Most are excited, and many seem surprised to see the man. He is stocky and short, as most dwarves are, with a beard stretching nearly to his knees. He cracks his neck and stretches his arms a bit as he moves into the ring, before shifting to a battle-ready stance.
"And on my left, he's the man to call when you want something hauled, or when you want someone hauled off on a stretcher, it's Arthur the Slow!" Stepping forward, slowly as his name suggests, is a brawny young human man, appearing somewhere in his early 20s. As he reaches the center he slaps his chest a few times and yells before turning to face his opponent.
On initial inspection the two men look like they would be evenly matched in combat. However, you can sense a few subtle things about the dwarf that suggests he edges his foe out a little in skill. It is not enough to make this seem like a sure bet, as many of the other match ups were, but one is clearly superior to the other.
Lord Aerden... Drake thinks as the Grey Hawk addresses him as Mister. "Aye, I get the feeling quite a few of the fighters now want a round with me," he replies. Hopefully that doesn't mean they'll all be gunning straight for me in the final fight.
After seeing the new fighters he excuses himself from the conversation for a moment to place a bet. "Ten gold on the Dwarf," he says to Delma, before returning to Valcus and the Grey Hawk.
"You must at least know a fair amount about the goings on in Menora then," Drake says returning to the previous conversation. "Anything we should know about as newcomers to the Tower? Other than the princess' tourney that is - it seems to be all anyone seems to be talking about, " he says, hoping to steer the conversation towards the city's knowledge of the war.
Valcus hides a smirk at the man's mistitling of the lord. As Drake leads closer to treacherous territory in the conversation, Valcus listens quietly. Does nobody truly know of the war going on?
"Maybe she'd be happier and more successful if she spent more time worrying about herself instead of others," Caelen says with a shrug, grimacing as he thinks about Dustin's unfortunate second half. "A woman like that will never find her fairy tale since she'll never be happy."
Caelen frowns at Dustin's words. He nods to Carl, saying, "Aye, I'd be lucky to have anyone half as great as you. Miriam doesn't know what a catch she's got since she only cares about herself." As the fighters enter the ring, the elf turns to watch. Seeing that the combatants are close to an even match, even if the dwarf appears more superior, Caelen passes on betting.
"Don't know much about that," the man responds with a shrug. "This place is the fancies' one you will see me in. Rest of my days are workin'. Haulin' stuff, buildin' stuff, wherever there's work I can do it." He folds his arms and looks at the two of you quizzically. Why, there someone yer lookin' for? Might be able to help find 'em.
Dustin looks ready to defend Miriam for a moment, opening his mouth to speak. However, after a brief moment he sighs instead, saying, "no, you're definitely right. But what can I do? It's my duty to marry her, the betrothal has been in place for months now. It's too late to back out now."
"Forget that," Carl says louder than normal, his soft-spoken-ness disappearing for a brief moment. "You don't have to do what your family wants you to do. You may anger a few of them, but it won't last forever, and if they truly care about you they will be more concerned for your happiness then the connections you are losing."
"That's easy for you to say," Dustin responds. "You're the youngest in your family, they never had major plans for you even before you went against them. I'm an only child, and my family is much more traditional than yours as well. If I go against them, I will probably just be disowned entirely."
"Anything that leaves them unfit to compete," the woman continues, not reacting to the fighting below as she speaks. "Break a leg, an arm, something more extreme. Lord Atherton cares little about what happens to them, he just wants them out of the competition. For good."
"Fight!" shouts the fight master, as he steps off to the side. The combatants oblige, with Mhuf launching forward into an all-out assault while Arthur retreats to a defensive stance. The powerful blows from the dwarf are easily dodged or deflected by the other man, and after a brief moment the human manages to land a few pop shots against his foe.
Invigorated by the momentum he's gained, Arthur moves to match Mhuf's aggressive tactics and both of the men begin to launch a series of powerful blows against one another. They both land some, they both dodge some, but within a few more moments Arthur seems to have the upper hand once more, landing a few strong blows in rapid succession.
Undeterred, Mhuf continues his all out assault against his foe. The earlier stages of the fight give him a bit more insight into the other's tactics, though, and despite both continuing on more or less the same as before, the upper hand begins to shift to Mhuf. This is shown most definitively when he gets a solid gut shot against Arthur when his guard is down.
Angered, Arthur continues his assault against the dwarf, but Mhuf instead shifts to a more defensive stance. Not expecting the change in tactics, Arthur is caught off guard once again and after dodging a series of blows Mhuf lands a powerful counterattack.
As both of the men begin to show visible signs of exhaustion, they both go on the defensive. The two circle each other for a moment, each expecting the other to go on the offensive, but as it becomes clear that no jabs are coming their way they both move to attempt to grapple one another. The advantage swings back and forth between them for a few moments, but eventually Arthur gains the upper hand and manages to pin Mhuf to the ground.
"And we have a winner!" the fighter master shouts, as he rushes back into the center of the ring. He grabs Arthur by one arm, raising it up in air in victory. The man then gives a polite bow before turning to aid Mhuf up from the sand. The two exchange some quite words and a handshake before both exit the ring.
"Them first two guys weren't from here," the Grey Hawk responds. "The dwarf that just went up to fight ain't from here neither. The rest have all been in town awhile, even if some aren't local-born."
"Carl is right," Caelen says with a nod, looking at Dustin with concern in his eyes. "If they would disown you for choosing happiness, are they a family worth having?" Caelen raises an eyebrow, lost in thought for a moment. He lowers his voice for a moment. "Or maybe you could drive Miriam wild enough that she'll break off the engagement. Or find her a fairy tale man, but that's not going to happen."
His mind scheming, he pays little attention to the fight, but feels glad he opted out of betting as the winner is announced.
"I suppose it makes sense most of the contenders are from around here but there's still a few people attracted from further afield, as we have been," Drake says in reply to the Grey Hawk. It doesn't seem like he's likely to know anything, he thinks, looking to Valcus to see what the Knight plans to do next.
"Right," Valcus says, nodding. "Mhuf, right? I'll find him later. It was great to meet you, Grey Hawk." He extends a hand. "Good luck in the final brawl. Here's hoping Lord Aerden and I can live up to the expectations as newcomers." The knight smiles.
Drake gives the Grey Hawk in parting and steps away, waiting for Valcus to follow. "Well I guess we can't expect everyone here to have the information we need," he says quietly. "Who should we try next?" He asks.
"Aye, see you there," the man responds as the two of you step off on your own. As you are discussing your next course of action you see the fight master return with the human competitor in tow, meaning that Mhuf lost the recent bout. Two more step up and make their way to the ring. One of whom is an elven man who appears in his mid 30s, the other another dwarf who appears in his late 20s.
"I love my family," Dustin responds, looking a bit more serious. "I want to make them proud. I'd love it if my arranged marriage was to someone I actually cared for, but it isn't." Listening more to your suggestion, he says, "I am not sure how I could annoy Miriam more than I already do. She already seems to dislike most of the things I like, and she lets me know it. If she broke off the engagement for another man that would certainly be a blessing, though."
"It might not be as hard as you think," Carl responds, seeming more invested in the conversation now that it is more personal than he had been earlier. "There are plenty of young, handsome men that will be competing in the princess' tourney, and at best one of them will win her affection. The others will surely be looking for a princess of their own to spoil, and Miriam could always be one of those princesses."
"He'd have to be a noble, though," Dustin responds. "Miriam's family and mine are to be joined because of the shared benefit merging our houses will provide. The Stanes have no interest in some upstart knight, and Miriam has expensive tastes. How do we get a man like that to go after her without it being obvious what we are doing?" As the conversation continues onward, the next group of fighters approach...
"That is great news," the woman responds with a smile. "Lord Atherton will be quite pleased to hear it, and even more pleased should you succeed." The woman leans a little closer than before and, in the lowest tone she'd used so far, says, "the fighter to target in the final bout is the Specter. I am sure you remember the one." Before you can respond she stands back upright and gives you a polite bow, before making her way towards the exit. As she does so the next group of combatants enter the ring...
"We are now in the twelfth round of the night folks, five away from finishing up the one-on-one matches," the fight master booms as he enters the pit once more with the next two combatants. "This next match pits elf against dwarf. On my right, you can never tell what he'll do next, and good luck surprising him, it's Shifty Saith!" Sauntering forward is short but very confident-looking elven man who appears to be in his mid 30s. He is well dressed and appears to be knowledgeable of noble customs. When he steps forward he gives a twirl before dipping into a low, dramatic bow. Many of the crowd members cheer, but not as many as for some of the more popular fighters you've seen already.
"And on my left, he's got brains and brawn, and a beautiful beard, it's Borvun!" Stepping forward is a dwarf in his mid-to-late 20s who is stocky and tall by dwarf standards, not much shorter than Saith. Unlike the few other dwarven men you've seen, he has his beard finely trimmed and meticulously braided. Apart from that, however, he is dressed in simple attire like many of the other combatants, suggesting he does not come from wealth. He steps forward and does a series of flexes and poses before turning to face his foe.
From the brief view you got of the two men, it seems like a very close call. Saith seems like he is more intuitive and prone to outsmarting his foes with feints and tactics, while Borvun seems physically superior. Neither seems like a safer bet than the other without having witnessed them fight firsthand.
"Should we return to the viewing area?" Drake asks Valcus as they leave the Grey Hawk. "I'm starting to think we probably won't learn much from the competitors, hopefully Caelen is having better luck with the crowd of nobles," he says lowering his voice slightly.
"That could work," Caelen says to Carl, smirking as he thinks of their plans. "I know a pair of two young lords, but I'd rather leave them out of this. Unless they wanted to get in on it." He laughs, imagining their group creating a charade to free Dustin from his betrothed. "But I'd imagine a princess as the grand prize is enough to bring desperate young nobles in."
As the next set of fighters emerge, the elf once again elects against betting, not feeling comfortable with his perceived odds.
"Aye," Valcus agrees with a sigh, seeing the victor he was not hoping for return. "Let's see if we can't pinpoint some strong contenders before the big brawl." He leads the way upward to the viewing area with his friend. The leads are drying up for now, it seems. I'll have to keep my eye on that Specter, though.
As the two of you begin to head towards the viewing area, you pass by one of the elven servant women. She glances at you with a smile as you approach, but quickly turns away and walks in another direction.
Though you aren't positive from the brief look you got at her, you get the distinct sense that you have seen this elven woman before, not in the estate but in your recent travels.
"Many," Carl responds. "I've met a few of them on my own, and Emrys introduced me to a few others," he continues. "Not all are as handsome or as wealthy as Dustin, but I am sure some of them are a better fit. She just hasn't had the chance to meet them yet."
Dustin sighs as the conversation continues on about his love life. "I really appreciate the concern, you guys," he says, "but I come here to get a break from this part of my life. If you don't mind, I'd like to change the topic."
"Sorry," Carl responds with a frown. "Well chin up, the next fight looks to be interesting. No clear winners here, just the thrill of the gamble. I'll put my money on Saith."
Dustin gives a small smile in response to Carl's words, adding, "then I guess I will go for Borvun."
"Fight!" comes the familiar shout from the fight master. Both men begin the fight by holding back a bit, neither seeming prepared to strike while instead attempting to anticipate. After a moment, Saith breaks the stalemate and goes for a solid one-two-punch, but Borvun is able to avoid the blows and elbows his foe in the head.
Shaking the blow off, Saith appears to try the same maneuver again, and again Borvun remains on the defensive. However, as he draws near Saith instead shifts to a series of shorter, more rapid blows. Borvun manages to dodge the first two but eventually his defenses break and the elf manages to land a few blows of his own.
As Borvun reels from the blows, Saith shifts once more to a more defensive stance. Seeing this, the dwarf rushes forward and tries to repeat his foe's previous success, launching into a series of rapid attacks. Saith was waiting for that, though, and aims a powerful haymaker at his opponent. Despite the deception, however, Borvun is able to dodge under the swing and catch Saith in the gut.
By now Borvun is clearly annoyed by Saith's deceptions, and seems to ignore his cues entirely. The elf once more attempts to feint a defensive maneuver but Borvun ignores it, rushing headlong into an all out assault. When Saith shifts to his offense it is too late, and he is pummeled into the ground by the dwarf, his nose bleeding and his will to fight on exhausted.
"And we have a winner!" the fight master shouts as he steps into the center of the ring, raising Borvun's arm in the air in victory. The man shouts a battle cry over his win before spitting some blood onto the sand and making his exit. The fight master helps Saith to his feet, who seems more annoyed at the blood on his clothing than at losing, and the elf is escorted off the field as well.
"Very well, I'm sorry," Caelen says with a frown as Dustin forces the conversation elsewhere. "Maybe you guys can tell me more about Menora. The important people and places and all. I'd like to take as much in as I can while here!" He eyes the ring briefly, wondering how the more evenly-matched fight is progressing. He finds himself surprised as the dwarf is victorious against the elf. He must be strong for a man so small.
"Wait," Drake says quietly to Valcus as he stops walking. "I recognised that elf from somewhere and she definitely recognised us," he says turning to see where the elven servant has gone. "Come on, let's go speak to her," he adds setting off after her.
"You mean apart from us?" Dustin responds with a grin, seemingly pleased to have a change of topic. He cheers as his fighter wins, happily accepting his winnings. "Well let's see. My family - the Holworth family - is pretty well off and controls a few small baronies, as well as our estate in the capital. We've got a decent number of knights among the lower branches of the family tree, though my father is primarily a diplomat and trader with the dwarves of Bal, which is where the bulk of his influence comes from."
"I am from the Elmwood family," Carl responds. "We are not as influential, but my family does have some amount of sway. Our trade is primarily in lumber, with a number of villages along the forest edge being under our control. Many of my siblings directly oversee one or more of those holdings."
"After that there's the Stane family - Miriam and Emrys's - as well as the Steward's family, Cumberland, and of course the Atherton family. There are a number of others of course, but those are the ones I'm most familiar with."
"Is there a specific family you had in mind?" Carl asks. "It is not often people ask about that sort of thing, so it might be easier if we knew more of what you were trying to learn." The next set of fighters approach as the conversation continues on.
As you turn to follow the woman she seems to notice, and picks up her pace somewhat. She passes around a corner going down a branch of the hallway you'd not gone down before, and disappears from view briefly. As you draw near to the corner yourself you can hear the opening and shutting of a door.
Once you do make it around the bend, you can see ahead of you that the door that shut is actually one of many possibilities. Flanking the hallway on either side are two doors each, spaced roughly 20 feet apart. Likewise, the hallway ends a short ways past these in another door, making for 5 possible exits the woman could have taken.
"Ah, round thirteen!" comes the familiar sound of the fighter master's voice, as he once more enters the ring with two men in tow. "The superstitious combatants always dread drawing this coin, fearing it can only bring misfortune. But there is always one winner, one loser, no matter the match." The crowd lets out a cheer, and many laugh as well.
"For this fight I bring you not one, but two dwarven men. The first, two my right, is known to many of you and liked by a few. He's mean, he's strong, he's Marv!" Stepping forward is a gruff dwarf who grunts and spits on the ground as he steps forward. Many cheer, many others boo, and he flips the bird to his naysayers as he steps into the ring. Once there he folds his arms and watches as his foe is announced.
"And on my left, he's the nimblest dwarf I've ever aid my eyes on, it's Ferlan the Jumper!" This slightly younger-looking dwarven man rushes forward, doing a somersault in the sand before reaching his place on the field. There he remains in an active position, jumping back and forth between feet as he eyes Marv with a cocky smirk.
Neither of the two men seem especially skilled overall, which makes the fight seem not easy to predict the outcome of. Marv seems to be a little more athletic in his build, but Ferlan's display of acrobatic prowess suggests he is more nimble. You get the sense the odds are slightly in Ferlan's favor, but as with the last few fights it seem like far from a safe bet.
