On the borders of Smith's Gambit closest to Tempest Bay rests an isolated, but otherwise regular cabin.

Upon closer approach, details reveal themselves: It is a small, clean-cut cabin made from a handful of large pine logs, with a sloped roof placed overtop the flat ceiling to prevent snow from piling up. This leaves an inhospitable attic space that is inaccessible. The entrance faces away from the bay to avoid the cold winds that ride off from the ocean. The entryway is designated by a simple wooden door with an iron lock. The door has a simple phrase written in Primordial carved on it "Sylvan Abode" and it seems to hold a tiny bit of magic of the Universal school and with a Druidic nature, causing it to glow a very faint green hue.

To approach the door, you must take two standard-sized steps, which are each built from inexpensive gneiss from a local quarry. The stairs are built in to the foundation which is made from the same material from the same source.

The foundation is not tall, because the proximity to the bay has resulted in erosion and flattening of the land, leaving plenty of spaces where a home could be built with but a minor foundation of stone. Additionally, the stone foundation is just over a foot tall, it is completely solid, and built from one block of stone, leaving no room for invasive creatures to nest below.

Upon entering the home, you would find yourself facing a barebones living space with a maple hardwood floor and a ceiling that is merely six feet high. It has a square footage of 500 ft, and it's longer dimension stretches towards the bay, away from the entrance.

Additionally, the maple floor is covered in an uncountably numerous assortment of densely-scrawled passages written in Primordial. Upon further inspection, they all reveal Sylvan lore which inherently reflects the 'ultimate truth' of this universe.

 - Opposite of the front is a smoldering hearth which is mostly charcoal, rather than fresh hickory firewood. It is encased in a ceramic mantle. The flue is purposefully left unfinished, and simply pokes upwards and out the back wall of the home, causing the smoke to be rebuffed by the bay winds, slowly staining the backside of the home with thick layers of soot, but also causing the home to appear cloaked in a menacing black smoke when viewed during the right circumstances. Hung above this fireplace is the cracked tusk of a Giant Boar, stained with the dried blood of the home's owner.

 - On the left-hand side of an observer who enters the home through the front door, there is an assortment of miscellaneous things:

1. An emptied but unclean chamber pot.
2. A basic healing potion in the middle of being brewed.

 - On the right-hand side, there is a bedroll and two waist-high cedar dressers, each with three drawers. These are closed, but not locked, and contain smaller personal possessions.

1. The top drawer contains a belaying pin (functions as a club) and a small wooden statuette of a smug halfling that seems to be severely worn through constant rubbing
2. The middle drawer contains an unsealed herbalism kit and a set of unwashed common clothes that reek of sweat and blood
3. The bottom drawer contains a gnarled and spiraling quarterstaff made from Timberloft Elm wood
4. The top drawer of the second dresser contains a sledgehammer which has had the handle shaved down so that it can fit tightly in this space. It cannot be removed except by taking out the whole drawer first.
5. The middle drawer of the second dresser contains a bedroll.
6. The bottom drawer of the second dresser is empty.

Adjacent to the personal homestead of the resident genasi druid, is a 2500 sq ft. arena, surrounded by 5-ft-tall maple poles connected by equal lengths of silk rope. The perma-frosted soil on the ground inside has been manually melted by four large, but rusted cast iron braziers located in the four corners of the arena, though there is 10 ft between the impromptu fence and the large light and heat sources, leaving 40 ft between a brazier and each other. It has also been packed by hours of manual stomping, and all grass has been killed off with salt, leaving a very dead, aesthetic interior.

Surrounding the arena, are eight large slabs of marble, which are each cut into singular rectangular shapes, with the dimensions of 5 by 25 ft. They are six inches thick. All marble in this secondary construction is sourced from a quarry in a nearby city.

The first four lay on the cold ground 15 ft outside the edges of the four sides of the arena, and the other four sit 10 ft behind the former slabs, raised 10 ft above the ground by undecorated pillars of marble. There are no stairs to access this higher platform, yet.

Beyond both the arena and the bleachers (80 ft), there are four copies of a large maple column, that is about as thick as an average tree. Resting on it is a thick tarp of cheap, waterproof material (most likely some kind of treated animal hide), that is stretches to the four corners. It doesn't bow in the middle, since it is stretched tightly across the 80 ft by 80 ft plane. To avoid snow weighing on the whole thing and eventually crushing and ripping through the mediocre tarp, the two corners that are further from the bay's winds are 5 ft lower, creating a slope that allows, rain, snow and sleet to slide off the protective covering, and not blow through the construction, but continue along with the wind currents away from it. The trunk-like pillars are each 15 ft tall, though the further ones are only 10 ft tall. The pillars are mostly hollow to reduce the material costs.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:30, Fri 17 June 2022.

Tidelan struts up to the front of his arena and begins to hammer an oaken signpost into the frozen ground. Once it's placed, he uses 5 ft of his hempen rope to tie several thick, tight knots around the post and an oak board, so that he has created a sign.

On the front side of that sign, he places a handmade second copy of the notice left by him at the job board that is closer to the center of the town. He nails it into the sign at four corners. The nails do not poke through the back of the wood, even though they are three inches long, as the board is four inches deep.

The note reads identically, with the only difference being the minutia of the handwriting, and it says the following:



He then wipes his dirtied hands on his trousers with a smile, and walks away happily.

A tiefling clad in reds and blacks approaches the fighting arena, stopping to read the sign.

Scratching his chin a little, he nods and looks around for someone with which to register his intent to fight in the tournament.

The door to the nearby building swings open and a powerful-looking entity steps out.

His race is very exotic, with damp blue skin, silvery hair and sea-green eyes. His build is stocky but under six feet, and his face is angular but well filled out. He carries a large wooden shield strapped to his left forearm, and a magical spear in his right. He wears a set of common clothes, which are terribly dirty and damaged.

He approaches with a calm, straight face, with the absolute barest hints of a smile.

He speaks in accented Common, with an implacable accent, "Greetings, hellborn of blood and darkness. It is pleasure to see you. You look strong. You have... desire... to join my tournament?"

He patiently awaits an answer, despite his emerging excitement.

Victor frowns briefly at being addressed so, but is used to it and lets it go.

"I am here to join the tournament, yes, if you are the organiser I suppose I talk to you about it. My name is Victor Iusticia."

He offers a hand to shake.

Tidelan blinks once at the outstretched hand before accepting the handshake. He doesn't seem very practiced on the gesture and follows Victor's lead, letting his arm lose some of it's rigidity before pulling away.

"Greetings Sir Iustica, you have read the rules? They... cost... much time to write."

He places his thick blue middle finger on the bottom of the page, where there is some space, but not much more than regular margins.

He produced a vial of red ink and an ink pen. "Brand your name to the right in small, sir."

He thinks for a minute, "Hm... I should make another parchment for you and the others. " then he exclaims with a sudden grunt, "Mine sorry. I... um... lecked memory... to tell you my name. I am Tidelan Wavyrus. Call me how you will."

It seemed the foreign man did not know the local words nor proper conjugations for 'apologies' nor for 'forgotten'. Where he said 'lecked' he must have meant 'lacked'.

He spoke one more time, "If is not strainful, will you tell me your... um... strengths?" the man seemed to be aware that was a vague question, so he clarified, "I mean of fighting arts or magics. As I am shaman and warrior, what is you?"

Victor nods, "I have read your rules and I believe I understand them. I am happy to put my name down on parchment."

He hesitates as he is unsure if Tidelan wants him to sign with the ink and pen given the comment about a separate parchment.

Instead he responds to the genasi's enquiry, "I was trained as a warrior, a two handed sword was my favoured weapon but I find myself preferring the glaive more and more," he indicates the weapons across his back with a thumb, each in turn.

"As for magic, I know some minor healing and have some theatrical tricks, but I can't throw balls of lightning or conjure flames to my hands if that's what you mean. Lathander has blessed me with some other combat magics during my recent prayer and meditations but I doubt much of it would be of use in a tournament such as this."

He looks over the blue man before him, noting the ragged appearance of the clothing but the well maintained look of the shield and weapon.

"You say you are a warrior too, will you compete?"

Tidelan nodded along as the man spoke and answered his questions.

After he was asked a question himself, he gave a small, bitter and reserved smile... He shook his head lightly before saying, "No. I very much want to fight. I very much believe I will win. But, I will not fight this. I am making this, so... I should not fight with it. That might be dishonorable."

His eyes glazed over for a few moments - literally glazed over with a film of saltwater - as he seemed to be thinking fondly of something intense, before he calmly returned to reality.

It would appear his thoughts had momentarily gone to the idea of dominating the competition... He seemed absolutely confident in his ability to take on any foe from his village.

His smile slowly vanished and he pointed back to the paper, again with his middle finger, and not his index, "Yes, please put your name here... If space go a ways there, I will write all the names on other sheet, or maybe just... um... rip them off" he hesitated at the end of that sentence before performing a tearing motion, indicating what he meant by 'rip them off'.

He politely offers up the blood-red ink and expensive utensil that he is still holding to be used in this process.

As one last thing, he interjects, "This is just for... records, you call them? Yes... It is just for truth that I had honor while taking fighters."

Victor nods, then writes his name in common on the list.

"If it is going to be a while before the tournament begins and you like to fight, would you like to spar with me? I was defeated in combat recently and I could benefit from the experience."

He returns the pen with a smile and gives a slight chuckle, "That is part of why I wanted to join your tournament, I need to explore more of what I can do and face powerful opponents so that I can become better. I was lucky that my defeat did not cost my companions or an innocent their lives last time, I do not want that to happen again."

Tidelan's face went stiff as though in fear, but his eyes seemed to shine with excitement. He took a deep breath before continuing and giving a slightly bitter smile instead of his previous dark expression "Hm... I do not think I can teach you much, but I will attempt if you desire"



Tidelan becomes apologetic and somber, "Ahh yes. That can be a great shame to fall in battle and cost lifes of companions" he thought for a moment, "It is true that defeating great enemies gives great strength. I am more... desiring for fight, now"

He added quickly, "Though, to be safe in this false battle, I will create aid for us." the genasi removed a basic healing potion from the satchel around his hip.

Right when the genasi's face seemed to be back to a normal expression, it suddenly went incredibly serious and grim. His voice was low and rumbling when he next spoke,

"If one of us will fall. The other must swear Sylvan Oath to aid them with this potion, so they do not lose life in much silly way. Do you... allow these rules?"

Victor grins, "Anyting I could learn would be worthwhile. We should use the same rules as your tournament yes, and I will swear an oath not to allow you to lose your life should it come to it. I have my own healing power given to my by Lathander, is it okay if I use that instead of your potion to heal you?"

"That is good. I can too heal you, but only if I... restrain my strength. I plan to fight with my all, though"

Tidelan nods his head, taking back his pen and jar of ink. Then, he gestures to the massive arena near his home.

"We should fight there. I believe the local phrase is "breakig it in", though we will not harm it?" the foreigner seemed amused by the phrase.

Unless Victor disagrees, Tidelan will make his way to the nearby arena.

"I think it is 'breaking it in' but 'popping the cork' might be a better saying," he comments and moves in the indicated direction.

It takes him a while a few folks pointing him different directions but Wendel finds himself outside of Tidelan's home not far from the fighting pit. Noticing Victor and some other guy there looking like they were getting ready to square off, probably the one folks had said set up this operation, he sighs.

Having nothing to really add to whatever is about to happen he finds a seat in the middle of the massive bleachers and settles in to see how this is going to unfold.

Once they arrived in the arena, Tidelan noted the meek-looking fellow who had decided to take a seat on the bleachers. He thought about speaking to the man, but there would be time for that after this battle.

He spoke to Victor, who was at the opposite end of the arena to him, "I believe in your honor, but I must... insist that you swear Sylvan Oath with me."

He cleared his throat, "You may be... unfamiliar... with Sylvan Oath. So, I will begin." the genasi fell to his knees and seemed to glow slightly, "In this false battle, I, Tidelan Wavyrus, swear Sylvan Oath to aid you, Victor Iustica, if you fall."

As he finished the words, the air seemed to shimmer around him, as if his personal reality had been permanently distorted by these words.

He then said something in an ancient language, "[Language unknown: Ro rutreshouwil ive ame.]"
This message was last edited by the player at 15:39, Sat 13 Mar 2021.

Seeing Tidelan's gaze shift off to the side, Victor follows his line of sight until he spots Wendel. He gives a brief wave in greeting then returns his focus to the Genasi before him.

"An Oath of Honor, certainly. In this false battle, I Victor Iusticia, swear a Sylvan Oath to aid you, Tidelan Wavyrus, should you fall."

Tidelan smiles brightly and lifts his head. Then, he gets off his knees, assumes a battle posture and nods once.

"Sylvan Witness!" Tidelan calls, indicating Wendel with his spear arm, "Will you count us in? Victor, we begin on zero"

The genasi stretched his leg and arm muscles and cricked his neck. He exhaled a deep breath.

OOC: I figured this was a clever way to express initiative in this fight. Since we would both be prepared to fight, Wendel counting us down allows one of us to be the quicker attacker, and thus clearly showing whom won initiative.

Also, before the battle starts, we can use theater of mind if you like, but I can also make us a quick battle map. I prefer the latter, simply because distance between us may come into play at several points

Victor moves into position as indicated, readying himself to draw and engage with his opponent.

OOC: Using a grid makes sense to me.
09:17, Today: Victor Iusticia rolled 12 using 1d20.  Initiative.

Wendel had given a wave back at Victor and now at Tidelan's request stands up in the bleachers.

"Of course." He calls back and not entirely sure where to start goes with the tried and true, "Three. Two. One." There's just the briefest space longer before the last number as Wendel's hand goes up. "Zero." A beam of energy flies into the sky with no target in particular serving as a sort of flare to kick things off.

In a dramatic burst of movement, the genasi whips himself forward with sudden force.

As he moves, his body melts into itself in a grotesque, impossible way. His bloody innards are briefly visible before his form returns to something that doesn't bend the mind.

In the place of the fairly reasonable genasi, a large, mighty, enraged beast rushes towards Victor. It may just be a trick of the light, but his fur seems to be matted with dried blood.

As he arrives at his target, a flurry of gleaming onyx claws and bloodstained yellowed teeth assault the magical armored warrior, Victor



OOC - Also, as a bear Tidelan's AC is 11 with natural armor, but since he has 2 barbarian levels, he will opt to use Unarmored Defense in it's place. That makes his AC 13 as a bear

This message was last edited by the player at 22:56, Sat 13 Mar 2021.

"[Language unknown: N ofes'omto evlo]?!" Victor exclaims as he is caught off guard by the crushing maw of his now ursine opponent, barely managing to sidestep the follow-up swipe.

His greatsword seems to shine with a hibiscus pink as he brings the blade up and across the furry beast with a roar of his own.

---

HP: 10/18 | THP: 0 | AC: 16 | Spd: 30ft. | Lay On Hands 10/10 | Divine Sense 4/4 | S1 1/2
Bonus: Wrathful Smite, concentration 1 minute
Action attack 11 vs AC.
10:07, Today: Victor Iusticia rolled 11 using 1d20+5 ((6)). MISSES
This message was last edited by the player at 08:15, Sun 11 Apr 2021.

The bear gave an almost human grin, except for the red-hued drool leaking from it's jowls.

It's eyes went wild and it's fur stood on end. With his faculties still in place despite his powerful bloodlust, Tidelan determined that it would be better to focus on offense, than defense... Though, he was confident it wouldn't really determine the victory.

He admired his opponent's fighting spirit briefly, before attacking once more.

OOC: Bonus action to rage, also using reckless attacks



With this brutal gnash, which wrapped around Victor's chest and upper back, the beast lifted him into his maw before slamming him down into the sand. His terrible rage still flowed through his entire body but his higher mind new he had sworn an oath not to bring harm to this man.

Yet... his claws were so itchy... The bear slams his paws into the ground with a fierce roar, and RRRIPS a chunk of the ground from the floor. The space between his deadly nails bleed from the effort and he stares into the sky in ecstasy.

Then -

It was as if nothing had happened at all. This brutal display had lasted for only several moments, and the bear was gone. A kindly expression appeared on Tidelan's face, which was not visible at this angle to Wendel. He looked down at the beaten man and wasted no time.

"Stand, brave one." he says, setting down his spear and lifting a totem from his satchel. Green energy flowed into the man, as he was returned to consciousness.

OOC: Cure wounds. Technically a round has passed, but I skipped it since you were down. I hope you don't mind, haha.

quote:

18:31, Today: Tidelan Wavyrus rolled 10 using 1d8+3.  cure wounds for victor lol.

Victor lays on his back, looking up at the genasi, "I was not expecting a bear, I suppose the lesson is to be ready for anything..."

He stays down for a moment, as though assessing the state of his body, before hopping up to his feet. He dusts his palm off on his clothing before offering it to Tidelan with a smile, "An honourable fight, thank you, it seems I'm no match for you yet. I hope to reach your level of strength someday and then perhaps we will do this again."

After shaking the genasi's hand he moves to retrieve his greatsword from the dirt and clean it before addressing his remaining hurts.

Tidelan blushed with pride, "Ah... Yes, I accept your words. And, it is true that I was much more weak than now when I first arrived last year... Your now would have defeated my then. This town is very much as a blessing to me, and to many others. Stay your path of power, honorable one"

Tidelan started attempting to reaffix the ruined floor... If he cannot, he will leave the minor pothole as a symbol of this battle.

It was over in a matter of seconds... Wendel hadn't even sat back down after counting them in and bam the bear had nearly ripped Victor in twain...

Wendel makes his way down from the bleachers filled with a new sense of absolute awe. "I thought he was about to kill you for sure, and I froze... I froze Victor. Glad you're alright though. Mister Genasi sir, that was something else."

Almost jokingly he adds to Victor. "Next time you should face someone more like me." Gesturing at his diminutive form. "You really need a win man."
This message was last edited by the player at 23:56, Sat 13 Mar 2021.

Tidelan nods with a small smile to the exceedingly polite Wendel.

"Thank you, mannered witness. Though, you could want to know what I told Victor just a moment before"

"Ah, the name's Wendel." He offers his hand allowing the bruised and broken skin there to be revealed. "What was it that you told him, if I may ask?"

Victor smiles at strange man's comment but doubts it's truth, he had not so much as laid a scratch nor cut a hair on his opponent's body.

Thankfully Wendel's approach helped him from voicing his inner bitterness.

"I stood my ground, I suppose that was a minor victory," he says in response to the half-elf, "and minor battles decide the war as Zariel once said."

He looks his friend up and down, remembering how easily he bruised but also his current battered state.

"Give me a moment and I will face you then. Given how that last job went I think I could use all the practice I can get."

He lays 3 fingers on his forehead and closes his eyes briefly before his posture straightens noticebly and the scuffs and gashes seem to close over and vanish.

Lay on Hands for 8 to top up to 18 HP

The half elf seems to stiffen for just a moment as he quickly processes the fact that he had just challenged a guy who was already injured. Not very fair spirited that. "Oh uh, yeah actually. I think we could both use the, uhm practice." For the first time he looks around the fighting pit actually considering it as a place he would be standing to do combat.

"Are there rules and such for where we have to stand to face eachother or like, prefight, prep?" He definitely looks nervous but also a little excited at the prospect.

The genasi accepts the handshake. The druid's hands are not perfectly clean, but neither are they dirty, despite the blood he had just spilled. They are also the strong and calloused hands of a fighter.

The man speaks, "Then, I am Tidelan Wavyrus. These are my home and arena."

As Wendel asks him to repeat, he sighs. "It is not very shamanic to impart same wisdom again. But, I will relent. I told Victor I was more weak than he, the last year. I am now this strong. In more years, I will be much more strong. I said the same is true for he... And too for you"

Then, he startles and looks to Victor. "Our Sylvan Oaths have ended. Yes, you look honorable, but... you must warn me before you use magic."

He adds in an annoyed voice, "If you both desire battle on my land, know that it is not with no cost." he continues, "I will not demand gold from Victor for our fight, but if you two desire to battle here you must know this is my land."

He thinks for a moment, "The cost is five gold each, and I will heal if either fall. If both fall, you must agree who I heal first"

He responds to Wendel, "You may agree how to fight. I believe it best that you both take same place as I and Victor from before"

The handshake, although not less than firm on Wendel's part seems to add to the bruises already present on his hand. Despite this the frail little fellow doesn't pull his hand back or do more than ever so slightly wince. The cold here just exaserbates his condition all the more. "Ah, my apologies Tidelan Wavyrus. I meant not to degrade your shamanic wisdom through repetition. I honestly thought perhaps you were hinting at something like promising not to kill him or something before the fight began..."

At the mention of cost the half-elf looks a little disheartened but it did make sense. "As this is your property I understand your desires and requests. I don't know if Victor is truly wanting to go another round though..." He isn't going to refuse to pay the fee to fight but at the same time he usually lets Luna handle financial decisions. He did just come from the Den where he had to step away from gambling...

Looking to Victor. "Winner pays the fee?"

Victor opens his eyes and nods but waits for Tidelan to speak.

"Not so much magic as a prayer but I will remember to do so in future. It is what I would have used on you had our roles been reversed."

At the mention of the cost Victor shrugs his shoulders, "I am happy to pay for the use of the arena if you are Wendel, this is probably the safest place to do this. As for rules, this is a friendly sparring match so I'm happy to go with whatever you suggest but the tournament rules seem pretty good."

The tiefling turns to meet Tidelan's eyes with his own, "I can keep Wendel from death with my own power but should we both fall then please prioritise him over me."

Tidelan nods towards with his eyes closed Wendel, indicating an acceptance of his apology.

Tidelan gives a short head nod to Victor and a grunt while maintaining eye contact, indicating some level of respect and also his affirmation.

Tidelan takes his place at the bleachers and folds his arms across his large chest.

Wendel gulps but nods. "Right then. So I just stand over there then... Uhm do you mind if I magic up some armor before we get started, Victor?" As he asks he starts walking over to where Tidelan had been standing at the start of the fight. When he gets there he does take a few steps further toward the perimeter. If he's to stand any chance at all in this friendly sparring match he's gonna need all the space he can get. The half-elf looks over toward where Tidelan is sitting on the bleachers wondering if he'll give a similar countdown.

If Victor gives the affirmative, Wendel will cast Armor of Agathys on himself before fight starts. If not, he won't.

"If you feel you need to then please do, just don't disappear on me. I will not hold back unless I feel I have a killing stroke."

He moves to stand in a similar position to when he fought Tidelan, this time holding his glaive upright on his left side, it's butt rested on the earth.

Once it is clear that Wendel has made his preparations the tiefling looks up at the Genasi and gives him a nod, indicating he is ready as well.

OOC: 14:52, Today: Victor Iusticia rolled 2 using 1d20 ((2)).
Not having much luck with initiative today haha. I assume this set up below is okay with you Wendel, let me know if you wanted to adjust positions.

As it seems to be expected of him, Tidelan looks at each person once, then begins to count.

"Three... two... one... zero." he says, in a grave voice.

"Thank you." As he takes his place and turns to face Victor, Wendel speaks in the earthen dialect of the primordial tongue and with a gesture with his ringed hand his body seems to embrace the cold around it as a spectral armor made of the frozen air takes shape around him.

As the countdown begins the half elf assumes what might be considered a fighting stance if a child was learning martial arts for the first time.

As the Genasi says zero, Wendel points at Victor and whispers a curse. It's immediately followed by his fist being drawn back and thrown forward punching nothing but air. As against the fishmen though a beam of energy goes flying out of his clenched fist filled with conjured stones and sand.

He then does the extremely brave thing and runs behind the nearest brazier and drops to the ground hopefully to get some cover and make himself a harder target to hit.

Pre-fight: Armor of Agathys for 5 temp hp spectral frost armor. 5 cold damage dealt to anyone who melees him while it exists.

Initiative: 18
Bonus Action: Cast Hex on Victor
Action: Eldritch Blast AC 16 for 7 force damage, 2 Bludgeoning damage, and 4 necrotic damage.
 On hit the beam pushes Victor back 10 ft.

Wendel rolled 16,7,4 using D20+5,d10+3,d6.  Eldritch Blast, damage, hex damage (add 2 more genie wrath)

Sent backwards and near clean off his feet, Victor braces himself against the arena's edge then launches forward towards the other man.

Midstride he draws a javelin and launches it at the half-elf, now raising his glaive ready to strike, but the javelin goes wide and sticks into the soil to one side.

---

HP: 5/18 | THP: 0 | AC: 16 | Spd: 30ft. | Lay On Hands 2/10 | Divine Sense 4/4 | S1 1/2
Victors movement finishes about 15 ft from Wendel
16:32, Today: Victor Iusticia rolled 8 using 1d20+5 ((3)). MISSES

Wendel peaks out to see Victor much closer and still standing and so he stands up and throws another fist of energy and stone right at the man. Grimacing as the energies flowing through him take their toll causing more of his hand to bruise, specifically around the ring he wears.

Time for the move that could cost him. Wendel, in his frost armor charges Victor while drawing the dagger he has yet to even touch since he met the tiefling.

Action: Eldritch Blast misses
Movement: Stand and move directly to Victor.

"[Language unknown: Terectvor]," Victor says with a minor flourish as he touches the emblem on his chest, a bright shimmering shield of light blinking into existence between himself and the dagger, before he follows with "[Language unknown: Rutherine]!"

Burning radiance erupts around the tiefling in a circle, threatening to engulf Wendel now that he is so close.

---

HP: 5/18 | THP: 0 | AC: 16 18 | Spd: 30ft. | Lay On Hands 10/10 | Divine Sense 4/4 | S1 0/2
Concentrating.
Bonus: Shield of Faith +2 AC now at 18, concentration for 10 minutes.
Action: Word of Radiance cantrip, DC 13 Constitution save or take 4 radiant damage.
16:53, Today: Victor Iusticia rolled 4 using 1d6 ((4)).

Wendel's eyes go wide. This isn't what he'd expected. The light burns and most of his spectral frost armor melts away. He swings his dagger up close and personal but it is obvious he has rarely used the thing or even knows how to handle it as the swing goes off to the side. Now face to face with Victor he realizes just how outclassed he is at this range but the choice was made...

Failed save. 1 temp hp left
Concentration save success

Action: Dagger misses.

Victor tosses aside his glaive now that Wendel is so close and draws his greatsword instead, once again uttering the word that brings the radiant flames, "[Language unknown: Oerlarven]!"

---

HP: 5/18 | THP: 0 | AC: 16 18 | Spd: 30ft. | Lay On Hands 10/10 | Divine Sense 4/4 | S1 0/2
Concentrating on Shield of Faith [+2 AC]
Word of Radiance again, DC 13 constitution save or take 3 radiant damage
17:09, Today: Victor Iusticia rolled 3 using 1d6 ((3)).

Burned by the light again, Wendel tries with the dagger once more but the new shield of magic and light is enough to deflect it. Seeing his impending doom coming Wendel, in spite of what he feared he would do in the moment, doesn't flinch. Rather his eyes look right in to Victor's and with a strange peace he simply asks, "It's going to hurt, isn't it?"

Failed, failed, and missed
7 hp left, no more frost armor, no more hex
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 06:19, Sun 14 Mar 2021.

Victor brings the sword down into the half-elf's side, turning the blade to strike on the flat rather than the edge and thus avoiding cutting him in half.

Almost immediately after his opponent slumps to the ground Victor kneels by his side and lays a hand upon him, bringing forth the blessing of Lathander to keep him from death's door.

"You pack a wallop Wendel, I thought you had me there, your mistake was getting in close," he says to his friend.
OOC: Lay on Hands, Wendel is back to 2 HP.

This message was last edited by the player at 06:27, Sun 14 Mar 2021.

He saw it coming. Even so, the pain flashes through and darkness closes around him. Not the darkness of near-death though. Victor had pulled the blow. Just the darkness of unconsciousness. And just like that his eyes blink back open as that energy courses through his body.

From his place on the ground Wendel winces and nods. "Aye, I thought I'd let the frost armor do the work but you clearly saw around that. That light sure burns hot... Something new from.. Lathander?"

Even as he asks he is sitting up and looking toward Tidelan and back to Victor. "So, like I said at the start, winner pays the fees?" He's smiling through the pain now and obviously mostly joking.

Tidelan climbs down from the bleachers without uncrossing his arms, "That was a more... interesting... fight than ours, I feel. You both did greatly."

"I'll take this gold now, because I will need to give it away after the tournament. I truly hope you both decide to join" TIdelan says, staring a little bit more than is comfortable at Wendel.

Hurt as he is, Wendel still makes the effort to stand. He digs in a small and very light looking purse to pull out the five gold. He smiles through another grimace as he hands it over to Tidelan. "I don't know how many times I could go through something like that... And Luna would probably kill me herself just for entering..." He pauses in thought, this was after all the kind of thing he'd come for. Opportunities to learn and grow beyond who he was before. And besides, there was something about this Genasi that made him feel like he could do it..

"But you know what. Sir, I'd be honored to fight in your games. Show me where to sign up." Another small wince of pain... "Maybe after some recovery time of course. There's also the whole business of stopping a sacrifice that might needs carrying for first." He glances over at Victor then back at Tidelan's gaze.

Tidelan looks at Wendel's money and recalls the previous deal the two had made, "I believe Victor will pay, no?"...

The man shrugs, "Well, follow me" he says to Wendel, leading him towards the signpost Victor had signed a few minutes ago, by now.

"Write your name here, Wendel" the genasi says, pointing out the margins at the bottom of the nailed sheet. He offers the man a jar of ink and a pen to use.

Wendel outs ink to paper. Signing his own name looks strange. He can clearly write well but the name being signed almost feels like it might not be one he's familiar with actually making into a signature.

"So, I've a few questions about the rules of the tournament. Will there be opportunity to do pre-fight prep like I had with Victor and to what extent might that extend? Will there be environmental hazards introduced in later rounds to spice things up maybe? I see the pit mark you made with your bear form could easily be made into something of the sort."

Tidelan considered each of Wendel's questions carefully, "Hm... pre-fight prep... auh? Well, I have not thought of it. I think that it will not be, or that both fighters may do one. No fighter will do one if the other does not."

The second question was answered more quickly, "I will not be using hazards, for this tournament. If I create a second tournament, then it could be."

OOC - Since Victor hasn't posted in a while, I'm just gonna assume he's paid Tidelan his 10 Gold ? BTW, Wendel, keep your money, Tidelan didn't take it

Adding ten gold to inventory, for now

At this point Victor had gone over to retrieve his glaive and javelin from where he had tossed tossed them, "Tsk, that'll need the whetstone," he admonishes himself before looking up at Wendel's comment, "Yes, Lathander blessed me with glorious knowledge in my meditations. No doubt as reward for our rescue of Nalnya. I had visions of using that icy armour myself though perhaps further devotion is needed before I will be granted that power."

While Wendel and Tidelan converse Victor moves over to where he had left his pack and reaches in for his purse, counting out the 10 gold pieces and wordlessly handing them to the genasi.

"I think after all this excitement I will take my leave and reflect on my learnings, I will return on the day of the tournament. Until later Wendel, and good day Tidelan," he farewells them both and turns to leave.

-10gp, --> To Under the Moonless Sky Quest!
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 20:50, Sun 14 Mar 2021.

Wendel nods along to Tidelan's answers seeming to find them satisfactory. This was the Genasi's endeavor after all. Feeling the pain and fatigue settling in as the adrenaline of the brief combat fades, Wendel finds himself mentally agreeing with Victor about taking the day. "Until later, Victor." It's a somber thought, who knows what they will face exactly, later, but at least Wendel feels confident that perhaps beside someone such as Victor they could stand against those fishfolk and whatever devil they try to summon.

"Well, Tidelan, I wasn't really expecting to get to do this today. I want to thank you for inspiring me to take the opportunity. I will look forward to this tournament. I think I ought to take my leave as well."

Also going to Under the Moonless Sky Quest!

Tidelan waved the two first official combatants farewell, and then returned to his home to meditate, snack and rest.

For the fights: Tidelan gets 200 xp. Victor gets 300 xp. Wendell gets 100 xp.

Carmen writes her name in blood upon the entry ticket.

Malkus walks up to the new arena to see what all of the hubbub is about. Intent to sign up for the advertised tournament, he pauses as he watches a red-haired woman sign up. He does a second take when he realizes she's signing in her own blood.

"Running low on ink, eh?"
He shrugs with nonchalant amusement.
"The grass is always greener when you make it grow in blood."

Izayah walked up behind Malkus and gave a snort. "Yer kinda dark, Malkus, y'know that?" He grinned and let out a small chuckle.

Then he gave a small shrug and signed his own name to put himself in the tournament. "Could be fun. Good practice at least. Possible some money." His grin widened.

At the solar noon of a brisk, sunny day with fresh bay winds rolling in, a shirtless blue man carrying a magical spear and a wooden shield stood on top of the bleachers next to his arena.

As citizens and combatants alike congregated to witness the upcoming spectacles, the man proclaimed in an offputtingly jolly voice with a strong, foreign accent that cannot be placed, "The time is here! The tournament is beginning! I am Tidelan Wavyrus, your organizer! I have gathered the most strong men and most strong women in all of Smith's Gambit! They will soon battle for the glory and gold of being the tournament's winner! I am... overjoyed to see so much faces, zero of you will feel disappointment, today!"

He smiled and allowed the next hour to be spent collecting bets and entry fees, and also letting spectators flock in to take their seats on the bleachers.

OOC: It will likely take a day for everyone to decide how much coin they want to add to the pot, or if they just want to pay the entrance toll.

Also, it may take the GMs some time to decide how many citizens gather around to be involved in the raging festivities.

The first match will begin once all those conditions are met :)

Elisar was keen to see the tourney; two of his companions were competing and he wanted to see how well they got on. He knew them both to be brave and strong, but competitions such as these often threw up unexpected outcomes.

He approached the arena and spied a blue-skinned fellow on the gate, taking entry fees from the locals. He rubbed his pocket, painfully aware of the lack of coin in it. So he chanced his arm...

“Good day to you sir!” he exclaimed. “It is I, Elisar, called the Moonraven! Singer of songs and teller of tales to prince and peasant alike. I trust that your contest will be a merry little affair, but have you thought of how to keep the punters entertained between bouts, while you clean up the blood? Need to keep them eating and drinking, keep their purses loose so to speak. Well, maybe I can help a little. I’d be happy to entertain the crowd somewhat between fights, and I’ll happily do so for free provided you can fill my belly and wet my whistle. What do you say?”

19:44, Today: Elisar Moonraven rolled 21 using 1d20+5.  Persuasion.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:45, Wed 17 Mar 2021.

Tidelan saw the fellow swagger up to him, and then launch into a well-delivered spiel...

Tidelan blinked a few times as he stared at the man... He didn't even understand half of the words nor phrases the man just used... It would seem he was offering to entertain people...

All he wanted in exchange was food... and a 'wet whistle'... did he mean water?

Tidelan thought about it... the man was very charismatic... it wouldn't hurt to let him keep people entertained... Though, this wasn't something he was very worried about. He had faith that the audience could wait five or ten minutes if they needed to...

An idea struck Tidelan, and he finally hummed to himself, "I will give you food and water, as you ask. If you desire to... repay the kindness, I think you could help me by..." he seemed to lose his train of thought, "ugghh how is it said here... hm... sorry, I do not have the most good words..."

He thought quietly for a few moments, before figuring out how to give his instructions, "hm... okay... just go and get more people wanting to watch... and yes... make them want to spend more coin... Yes, that would be much helping to me."

He looked at the fellow again. He didn't know why this decently-dressed man was in need of food and water... In fact, he seemed to carry an instrument... Was he a traveler, and not a beggar? Tidelan shrugged, and added in a generous tone, "If you make me extra coin, I will give you some of it..." he gently smiled to the confusing man.

Elisar grinned. “An audience? Sir, you are speaking to the right fellow! An audience you shall have, with loose purses to boot! In exchange for some warming titbits, a goblet of wine or two and a fair slice of your takings. Sounds fair to me, I think we have an accord!”

He extended his hand to shake on the deal. He had time to drum up some custom in the usual places. Once the deal was concluded he hurried away to drum up some custom.

 

A young woman approaches the fighting pits. Her face is marked with concern but she isn't going to be found anywhere else when her dear brother, sickly little Wendel, is to fight against professionals. The last time that happened he'd come back nearly at the brink of death and that was from something he'd called a 'friendly spar'. The concern is real but she isn't about to take this away from him. Apparently someone here is quite capable of keeping him alive at least if the worst happens.

She pays the entrance fee for the tournament and quietly takes a seat to watch. Interestingly, and without realizing it, she sits right where Wendel had sat to watch Tidelan nearly rip Victor to shreds.

-5g for entry fee

Tidelan shakes the talkative, but highly amiable fellow's hand with his own, and then bids him to go begin.

He also collects the lovely lady's money, but doesn't say much to her, sensing that she seems overstressed about one or more issues.

In good time Elisar returned. He had been around the town and had succeeded in drumming up some trade amongst the locals, with quite a few turning out to see what all the fuss was about.

He found Tidelan and gestured towards the crowd that was arriving. "As promised, good sir, your audience!"

As he looked around the arena, deciding where he was going to seat himself, he mulled over his potential wagers. He knew both of his companions to be able warriors but knew little of the others. In the end he decided to stick with what he knew, and approached Tidelan with his coins. "I have decided to split my wager on the tourney champion, five gold coins on the brave Malkus, and five on the cunning Izayah. I am confident that both will make good progress and I shall enjoy seeing them perform to the crowd."

Hands over -10gp in bets

Tidelan gives a medium-sized smile, "Excellent."

He takes the minstrel's bets and then quickly rushes over to the center of the arena.

He strolls in with practiced grace. Each of his strides kicks up a small patch of dust, and his muscles glisten with the angle of the sunlight.

Clearly, this was premeditated to look cool as hell.

After reaching the exact middle of the arena, he announces in a booming voice, "Greetings Countrymen! I am Tidelan Wavyrus, the Tournament Organizer!" he takes a quiet breath before continuing, "This day is the first round of battles with Smith's most great warriors! Will you many love this show?!" he exclaims with an almost-overbearing, demanding tone. It is the perfect tone for a hype man scrounging for mass applause.

After waiting for the [hopefully abundant] clapping and cheering to settle down, Tidelan speaks up again, "Then, with no more waiting... I witness the first fight; A strike of holy swords; A divine battle; Victor Iustica versus Malkus!!"

He gives a stageman's bow to the audience, before backing off to just outside of the arena, as he spreads his arms wide with a barely-contained grin and beckons excitedly for the two fighters to approach to their ends.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:33, Fri 19 Mar 2021.

Amidst the cheering and fanfare, Malkus strides forward and into the field. His maille and his great sword pommel gleam in the sunlight, and there are some javelins and his halberd strapped across his back. Without his cloak to cover it, those seated near the front can make out his Vigilant Eyes amulet suspended from a stout chain about his neck.  He respectfully bows to his opponent and to the Master of Ceremonies, and then waves confidently to the excited onlookers.

After just a moment of acknowledging the crowd, he again faced his opponent. With practiced ease he draws his great sword, holding it in a relaxed grip in his right hand while keeping his left free.

---

HP: 33/33 | THP: 0 | AC: 17 | Spd: 30ft. | Channel Divinity 1/1 | S1 3/3

Move to [G8].
10:39, Today: Malkus rolled 20 using 1d20 ((20)). Initiative



This message was last edited by the player at 17:55, Fri 19 Mar 2021.

Victor enters the arena on Tidelan's cue, moving to stand across from where he had previously fought.

The man across from him looks to be almost his mirror, less the horns and complexion, perhaps who he might have been if he had not been born as he was.

The tiefling returns the respectful bow and, seeing his opponent choose the greatsword, draws  his own. A drops into a stance with a slightly lower centre of gravity and holds the greatsword close in with both hands, high and right, with the point angled upwards toward the sun.

---

HP: 18/18 | THP: 0 | AC: 16 | Spd: 30ft. | Lay On Hands 10/10 | Divine Sense 4/4 | S1 2/2

08:17, Today: Victor Iusticia rolled 6 using 1d20 ((6)).

Tidelan yelled in a roaring voice that carried itself along the bay winds he had settled near once more, "A beginning of honor. You both fight when I arrive at zero. Three... two... one..."

The man's eyes burn with bloodlust, and he cracks a vicious smile as he says "Zero"

At Tidelan's signal, Malkus rushes hisopponent. Dust kicks out behind him as he rapidly closes the distance. Three steps out, he closes his left hand onto the pommel of his sword and begins to raise it forwards and up.

As soon as he gets within range of his sword, he transfers the driving power from his legs into rotational torque through his core. He quickly reverses the direction of his rising sword and slashes at Victor's left leg in a descending, diagonal cut.

As he finishes the motion, he brings the sword back into a defensive position, held low and pointing at his opponent's face.

He exhales a brief orison to Helm and makes a gesture of devotion as a shimmering barrier briefly envelopes his armored form.

---

HP: 33/33 | THP: 0 | AC: 17+2 | Spd: 30ft. | Channel Divinity 1/1 | S1 2/3

Move to [F3].
18:50, Today: Malkus rolled 24 using 1d20+5 ((19)). Attack
18:51, Today: Malkus rolled 12 using 2d6+3 ((6,3)). Damage

Bonus Action: Cast Shield of Faith



This message was last edited by the player at 23:27, Fri 19 Mar 2021.

Victor grunts in pain at Malkus' swift first strike, nearly dropping to his knees from the force of the blow.

A subtle phrase and his weapon is limned in a pinkish red hue.

Shifting his weight off the left leg he brings his blade to bear in a horizontal swing with the twist of his hips.

Just before the strike connects there is a flash of white light that momentarily flares to represent a 9-pointed starburst.

---

HP: 6/18 | THP: 0 | AC: 16 | Spd: 30ft. | Lay On Hands 10/10 | Divine Sense 4/4 | S1 0/2
Bonus: Wrathful Smite, concentrating for 1 minute
Action Greatsword attack hits AC 24, Divine Smiting!
7 slashing, 4 psychic and 7 radiant damage.
DC 13 Wisdom save or be frightened of Victor.

10:19, Today: Victor Iusticia rolled 18 using 2d6+3+1d6+2d8 with rolls of 1,3,4,5,2.  Slashing, psychic and radiant damage.
10:16, Today: Victor Iusticia rolled 24 using 1d20+5.  Greatsword attack.

As Victor's hit lands, it completely sunders Malkus' magical shield. He doesn't seem to take all of the holy damage, but the sword cuts deeply all the same.

He steels his resolve and slashes at his opponent.

As he counterattacks, his swing looks to go wide, but he somehow manages to punch out at the last moment and aim his sword's crossword at the side of Victor's helm in a savage strike.

---

HP: 19/33 | THP: 0 | AC: 17 | Spd: 30ft. | Channel Divinity 1/1 | S1 2/3


19:35, Today: Malkus rolled 12 using 1d20+2 ((10)). Concentration Save
19:37, Today: Malkus rolled 17 using 1d20+2 ((15)). Wisdom Save

Radiant resist.

19:43, Today: Malkus rolled 8 using 1d20+5 ((3)). Attack.

Channel Divinity : Guiding Strike +10 to attack, so 18 to hit.

19:46, Today: Malkus rolled 8 using 2d6+3 ((3,2)). Nonlethal Damage

Victor frowns as his opponent stands despite his landing the most powerful blow he could muster.

"This must be what Wendel felt," he thinks to himself idly as Malkus's blade swings for his head almost as though it is in slow motion.

"[Language unknown: Et]," he says, before all is blackness.

Good fight, congrats :)

Malkus nods to the Master of Ceremonies before reaching down to help Victor to his feet. Even as his hand brushes against the other Paladin, a faint, yellow glow seems to spread from his fingers and diffuse warmly into Victor.

Lay on hands, as much as you'd like up to 20.

With a smile to the cheering crowd, Makes pumps his fist in victory before making his way off to the side to watch and recuperate.

As the blood and dust settled, Tidelan dropped from his elevated position outside the arena, without uncrossing his arms. He spared a glance towards Victor, whom he could already see was breathing and not losing blood due to Malkus' pulling his last hit.

Instead of applying any emergency healing, he approached Malkus' position with an even stride. Then, the man bent down and healed Victor himself. Tidelan let out a sigh of relief, now he was assured to have enough magic for the rest of the day's events and would not have to dip into his potion reserves.

As he got close enough, the man was already retreating to the sidelines, Tidelan unfolded an arm out and sent it towards Malkus' sword arm to only-slightly-awkwardly block the man. If the paladin doesn't resist, he lifts it into the air and yells in a proud voice, "Match one winner!"

He also spins Malkus around to face the other set of bleachers and repeats that line.

Then, he lets the man's arm go, taking care not to drop it too quickly and risk the combatant pulling his good shoulder.

He says loudly, "The next fight will start in ten minutes, be here!", before finally walking with Victor out of the arena.

Before returning to organize with the two next fighters, he says to Victor alone, "" he pats the man on the back in a friendly way before hustling away
This message was last edited by the player at 00:20, Sat 20 Mar 2021.

The blackness is brief, Victor's eyes opening quickly upon the warmth of Malkus' healing touching his flesh.

He takes the paladin's outstretched hand and gets to his feet, "Good fight, may the strongest prevail," he says before walking out of the arena with Tidelan.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:36, Sat 20 Mar 2021.

Congratulations, Malkus! You get 200 XP, and Victor, you get 100xp!

Elisar marvelled at the speed of both warriors, and in the blink of an eye the fight was done. He was happy, his friend had won, his bet was still in play, and nobody died. All good so far.

As Tidelan spoke to the combatants and prepared for the next fight, Elisar’s natural instinct kicked in. He strode forward into the middle of the arena and flourished his hat in a grandiose gesture. In a loud voice he called out. “Good gentlefolk, are you entertained?” He was pleased to be met with a chorus of cheers. He laughed out loud and continued. “Well, that was just a taster, a titbit to tickle your fancy. There is more to come in but a few minutes, so get ready for more thrills, spills, and maybe a bit more blood!”

As he surveyed the crowd a thought occurred, he would have to speak to Tidelan about refreshments. A crowd like this needed a drink, and that could generate a little coin on the side.

After cooperating with Tidelan's intent and avoiding any awkwardness, Malkus sees Elisar take up a position to entertain those gathered. Malkus heads over to a seat adjacent to his friend's, and sits down to enjoy the show.

Wendel, who had been watching Victor fight, and cheering him on, walks over to the tiefling as he exits the arena beside Tidelan. After waiting for them to finish their aside the frail half elf gives Victor his own words of encouragement and excitement. "That was an amazing blow. A hit like that would have killed me in our sparring match... I thought for sure you had him there!"

He catches the eye of his sister in the bleachers and after giving her a wave turns back to Victor. "I don't know if I should say anything to her she'll probably try to talk me out of my fight. Are you sticking around to watch the others?"

Ten minutes later, Tidelan arrives back at the arena. He shakes his head with a sigh when he realizes this Elisar fellow is taking matters here into his own hands. He finds it a bit rude to just waltz around in someone's arena, but the crowd seems to like the act, so Tidelan swallows his pride, for now.

It's becoming clear to him anyway, that this man has quite a bit more to him than he had originally noticed.

Tidelan takes his place in the center of the arena, he has already arranged his dialogue, so that he won't stutter in front of the crowd, "Men and women of the town, the next fight will soon begin. After it will end, 'half time' will begin, and I will be giving... delicious refreshments... to any who did pay the entry fee, or any who will pay a small cost."

He takes a quiet breath then continues, "In this hour, there will be music requests and fun animal rides for the little ones. You want to be there, yes?" he smiled to the crowd

Then, his attitude changed, and he backed towards the side of the arena where he had been before... "Now, this fight will be much great, I believe: Do clap for Izayah Hamadrell!! And, for his foe too: Nef, the Void-Drinker!!"
This message was last edited by the player at 19:17, Sat 20 Mar 2021.

Izayah smiled down at the little mouse once more and shook his head. "No, no. Ya can't come with me, ya'll stay here. I can't have anythin' happen t'ya." The mouse squeaked at him a few times. Izayah chuckled and rolled his eyes. "I'll be fine. Either way. Ain't t'the death, y'know." The mouse let out a few final squeaks and scurried off.

He then turned and strode forward out on to the arena ground, rolling his head around on his neck, and doing a few final arm stretches to limber up. He had his longbow in hand, for the moment, rather than his twin shortswords. He slowly turned in a circle towards the crowd, a big grin on his fun, arms outstretched, and then let out a yell, "TIME FOR SOME FUN!!"

---

HP: 36/36 | THP: 0 | AC: 17 | Spd: 30ft. | S1 3/3


13:24, Today: Izayah Hamadrell rolled 23 using 2d20+3, dropping the lowest dice only.  Initiative (Arena).
This message was last edited by the player at 19:42, Sat 20 Mar 2021.

"Is that your sister? She's pretty," Victor smiles and gives her a brief wave himself, "If she is here to support you then you should at least say hello before your match."

At this stage he already has a hand on the half-elf's shoulder and is gently nudging him in the woman's direction.

As the next match is about to start, Wendel finds himself being gently moved toward his sister. "Aye she is that. I always say she got all the good genes. You're right though... I'll introduce you if you like." He makes his way up toward his sister as the next match commences.

"Genes..." Victor ponders the word but doesn't ask, must be an elf thing.

Hearing Victor repeating the word with a pondering, Wendel laughs. "Ah that's what I get for turning away before finishing the sentence. 'Genies gifts.'" He waves again as they get close enough and then gives the now clearly half-elven woman a brotherly hug before sitting down beside her. "Hey Luna, this is Victor. Victor, Luna. This is the guy who kept me alive out there. Lathander's sword."

"Victor." She says looking him up and down. Her tone is reserved and yet pleasant, "That was quite a fight there and yet you look fairly fine after it all. It is amazing. I must thank you for everything you've done for my brother. He, well. He's always had big dreams and having someone to look up to out here has been..." Wendel cuts her off with a cough and immediately her attention shoots over to him her eyes very clearly searching for a cause.

Carmen heads over to Victor and Wendel's seating area, drink in hand. "Sorry to hear of your bad fortune. If it's any consolation, I think you did amazingly." she says, then spots his gaze is actually looking past her and to the sister of Wendel. "She's a pretty young thing, quite right to lust for her. Does that conflict with your vows at all?" she asks, wondering if paladins were subject to the same restrictions as the men and women of the cloth were back home.

"Maybe I can be your wingman."" she says, laughing at the thought. "I'll warn you though...sometimes it ends up the other way round." she says, and she flutters her eyelashes innocently.

"A pleasure to meet you Luna. Yes, well my opponent was kind enough to use his divine touch to restore me so I was quite fortunate in that regard. It seems Malkus is a little further along my own path. As for Wendel, well, he is certainly no slouch out there. I'm quite looking forward to his match with..."

At this point he sees Carmen approaching, "Carmen, our other compatriot. Please excuse me," he says as he moves to greet her.

"I was not the strongest today, but tomorrow is another day," he answers the redhead's first comment then snaps his eyes back to meet hers at her second.

"My vows did not include anything like that, it's actually a lot less common than you might think. It is however considered poor manners to talk in that fashion about a comrade's family upon first meeting them, particularly so within earshot,"

He leans in conspiratorially for a moment, "she is quite something to behold though. I wish you good fortune in that regard," he gives her a wink and turns to sit on the opposite side to Wendel, indicating to Carmen that she should sit in the space between Luna and himself.

"Luna, have you met Carmen?" he asks with a slight flourish of the hand, "It was actually she and Wendel that fought off the last of the fishmen and saved my life after I was felled on our patrol,"

Carmen blushed, realising she had made a cardinal error of shouting out her mouth in the presence of others. Still, her advances had only served to cause Victor to step aside and leave her free on the road to victory. "Oh I wouldn't say I saved your life. Stemming the tide of blood perhaps..." she says, apologising profusely for the lack of speed in patching him up on the day.

"You did admirably. I only hope I put up as good a fight against Wendel here tomorrow. He took out three of those fishmen almost alone, you know."

She takes a step forward and gives Luna a hug, just like old friends would. However, she does reach down and grazes the behind of the sister with her fingertips as she leaves the hug. "You should come to the Dragon's Den one time. I'll show you how we play dice and cards. You'll have a great time, trust me."

Luna, for her part, greeted Carmen with a friendly smile as Victor introduced her. "We have not met but yet again someone Wendel spoke of highly. Carmen, a pleasure." And then the woman went in for a hug and Luna only stiffened a little. She clears her throat and waits for Carmen to finish as she glances back at Wendel again who, for his part, looks a little embarrassed still. "I had no idea he had done so well out there, he mostly spoke of the two of your accomplishments as well the other woman, Helga was it? Its a shame she hasn't stuck around." Notably she doesn't mention anything else about Carmen's actions and merely nods with a neutral face at the offer of open doors at the Dragon's Den.

"Honestly I don't recall the exact order of events." Wendel pipes up. "It all happened so fast. I'm just glad we were all out there having each others' backs. I'm looking forward to our fight too Carmen, but I'm pretty sure it's today, not tomorrow. Right after these guys go at it actually. Tomorrow is for the winner's of these fights if I'm not mistaken."

At the mention of the fight again, Luna's face takes on the look of someone trying to hide their concern and she turns from Wendel to spare his feelings. Rather looking back to the others. "So, what were you doing before coming all the way out here?"

"Helga, that was it. Honestly, without trying to call shame on her name, she seemed to freeze at the moment things got hairy. I think she was embarrassed about it and last time I saw she was drinking it out of her system at the bar. I'm sure she will be back." replied Carmen. "Before here? Bounty hunting. Chasing down wanted criminals to the ends of the earth. Still have a bounty now even..."

"For me, I was training to be a Knight of the Khepri, the holy soldiers of Lathander. If I had not left to take the long journey to Smith's Gambit I would probably be taking my Oath of Devotion to the Kheprian Order within the next week or so. I should probably send a letter of congratulations to my shield-brothers and sword-sisters," Victor frowns and trails off slightly towards the end of his answer, seemingly reflecting on something.

A goblin, just under four feet tall, with black stains covering his chin enters the arena, carrying a spear. At the point he expects to be standing when the fight begins, he sticks the spear into the ground with a flourish, and walks up to Izayah.  "Pleased to meet you, Izayah. I've learned your people show honest intent with something you call a handshake," he says. Though his mouth is stained black, teeth and all, he speaks like one who was taught the language formally, albeit with the accent common among many of the tribes of the Rimewood. He thrusts out his hand, waiting for Izayah's response.

02:49, Today: Nef, the Void-drinker rolled 11 using 1d20+3.  initiative.

s=spear
N=Nef
I= Izayah
xx= Brazier
This message was last edited by the player at 10:08, Mon 22 Mar 2021.

Elisar watched the behaviour of Nef the Goblin, then leaned over to Malkus who was sat close by. "An interesting test of trust for our friend, Izayah. Does he accept the hand and expose himself to a cheap shot, or refuse it and appear churlish? This could get interesting."

Malkus considers the question posed by Elisar.

"I don't know the goblin's views on honor, but I can't imagine them trying anything too tricky just now. Besides, our friend is quite a bit larger. I wouldn't want to be a goblin stuck in a wrestling match with him."

Izayah tilted his head as he watched the goblin ground his spear and approach. He muttered to himself, "oh what's this now?" He blinked at the greeting and offered handshake for just a second.

He switched his longbow to his left hand gave a wary smile. "Okay. Pleased t'meetcha s'well, Nef. I hope we both do our best an' have fun either way." He wondered if this was a trick but he wouldn't be a jerk and refuse, or worse - so he reached out and shook the goblin's hand.

Before the match, as the foes suddenly shook one another's hands with honor, Tidelan nodded strongly with approval.

After the two combatants had returned to their original locations, he continued in his booming crowd-addressing voice, which those who knew him would be able to tell was far less sincere than the tone he normally used, "The battle begins on zero: Three. Two. One. Zero! "

He utterly avoided verbally addressing the handshake; It would seem he was set on staying in the unfamiliar role of the flamboyant attention-grabbing organizer rather than his true self.

Izayah waited until Nef was back in position and then for Tidelan's countdown. He gripped his longbow and waited. Right after the start was given, he pointed a finger at Nef and said "I mark you!"

Then he drew, nocked and fired two arrows in rapid succession, one right after the other, sending them streaking towards the goblin. But the second one flew wide and missed the mark. Izayah stepped back a bit towards the wall and sort of behind one of the braziers, wanting to see what the goblin was capable of.


N=Nef
I = Izayah
xx= Brazier

---

HP: 36/36 | THP: 0 | AC: 17 | Spd: 30ft. | S1 2/3


Bonus Action: Hunter's Mark.
Action: Attack (2 arrows from longbow): Hit AC 20 for 11 damage.

14:38, Today: Izayah Hamadrell rolled 20,10 using 2d20+5,2d20+5, dropping the lowest dice only.  Longbow attacks (Round 1).
14:40, Today: Izayah Hamadrell rolled 7,4 using 1d8+3,1d6.  Damage if AC 20 is a hit.

Withs lightning speed, Nef snatches the arrow that would have hit him out of the air, and throws it back at Izayah. He clears the distance with Izayah unbelievably fast, and lets out a flurry of strikes, all of which fail to find purchase.

Reaction: Deflect Missiles (Reduced to 0 damage, 1 ki spent to return fire, Hit AC 21 for 5 damage,)
Action: Attack with spear (miss)
Bonus: Flurry of Blows, (miss, miss)

13:56, Today: Nef, the Void-drinker rolled 16 using 1d10+6.  Deflect Missiles.
13:59, Today: Nef, the Void-drinker rolled 21,5 using 1d20+5,1d4+3.  Throw arrow (martial arts).
14:05, Today: Nef, the Void-drinker rolled 9,4 using 1d20+5,1d4+3.  Unarmed attack, damage.
14:05, Today: Nef, the Void-drinker rolled 12,6 using 1d20+5,1d4+3.  Unarmed attack, damage.
14:04, Today: Nef, the Void-drinker rolled 10,5 using 1d20+5,1d8+3.  Spear attack, damage.

s=spear
N=Nef
I= Izayah
xx= Brazier

Izayah was more than a little surprised at how his first arrow not only didn't strike the goblin, but was caught and THROWN BACK AT HIM! He let out a pained grunt as it grazed him, "Unh! Dangit!"

The little goblin was fast as hell, too, covering the distance to him and unleashing a flurry of fists, feet, elbows and knees. Izayah was literally seeing green. He let go of the longbow and drew both his shortswords in one fluid motion. Then he stabbed out with both, one right after the other, his first missing wildly, but the second was better aimed.


N=Nef
I = Izayah
xx= Brazier

---

HP: 31/36 | THP: 0 | AC: 18 | Spd: 30ft. | S1 2/3


Object Interaction: Draw both shortswords (+1 to AC).
Action: Attack with shortsword 1 (Miss, AC 8).
Bonus Action: Off-hand attack with shortsword 2 (Hit AC 20 for 7 piercing).

15:21, Today: Izayah Hamadrell rolled 11 using 1d20+2.  Concentration check (DC 10).
16:16, Today: Izayah Hamadrell rolled 8,11 using d20+5,2d6+3.  Shortsword 1.
16:16, Today: Izayah Hamadrell rolled 20,7 using d20+5,2d6+3.  Shortsword 2.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:28, Mon 22 Mar 2021.

Nef grunts in pain as the sword pierces his flesh, but twirls his spear into a thrust, followed by two jumping kicks in the same motion.

Action: Attack with spear (Critical hit for 10 damage)
Bonus: Flurry of Blows, (miss, hit AC 21 for 5 damage)

s=spear
N=Nef
I= Izayah
xx= Brazier


17:09, Today: Nef, the Void-drinker rolled 21,5 using 1d20+5,1d4+3.  unarmed attack, damage.
17:09, Today: Nef, the Void-drinker rolled 11,7 using 1d20+5,1d4+3.  unarmed attack, damage.
17:08, Today: Nef, the Void-drinker rolled 6 using 1d8.  Spear critical damage.
17:08, Today: Nef, the Void-drinker rolled 25,4 using 1d20+5,1d8+3.  Spear attack, damage.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:15, Tue 23 Mar 2021.

Izayah was getting stabbed and battered around like a trainee fresh out of boot camp. Actually, he was starting to feel like one of the attack dummies there! One hit staggered him and he let out a cry of pain. By luck, he stumbled out of the way of one of the two kicks, but the second one smacked him in the ribs, eliciting another grunt of pain.

He tried to stab out with his two shortswords again, but again one wasn't even close to the nimble goblin, and the other was barely any better.


N=Nef
I = Izayah
xx= Brazier

---

HP: 16/36 | THP: 0 | AC: 18 | Spd: 30ft. | S1 2/3


Action: Attack with shortsword 1 (AC 15 for 9 piercing, maybe).
Bonus Action: Off-hand attack with shortsword 2 (another miss).

18:39, Today: Izayah Hamadrell rolled 15,18 using d20+2,d20+2.  Concentration checks (DC 10).
18:39, Today: Izayah Hamadrell rolled 15,7 using d20+5,2d6+3.  Shortsword 1.
18:39, Today: Izayah Hamadrell rolled 8,10 using d20+5,2d6+3.  Shortsword 2.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:46, Tue 23 Mar 2021.

Nef goes in for another strike, but is interrupted by a jab to his arm, causing both his spear stab and his kick to miss.

Action: Attack with spear (miss)
Bonus: Unarmed attack (miss)

s=spear
N=Nef
I= Izayah
xx= Brazier

Izayah was as surprised as anyone when one of his stabs managed to throw off the goblin's aim and he didn't get pummeled and stabbed several times in a row again. He'd braced for it even as he'd tried to dodge...and was unhurt! Well, he WAS hurt, just wasn't hurt more.

He spun one shortsword and then whipped it in a slash - very ineffective for a shortsword, but it allowed him to stab out with the second for a much better aimed stab.


N=Nef
I = Izayah
xx= Brazier

---

HP: 16/36 | THP: 0 | AC: 18 | Spd: 30ft. | S1 2/3


Action: Attack with shortsword 1 (Miss unless he's AC is 12, lol).
Bonus Action: Off-hand attack with shortsword 2 (Hit AC 22 for 9 piercing).

09:33, Today: Izayah Hamadrell rolled 12,8,22,9 using d20+5,2d6+5,d20+5,2d6+5.  Shortswords vs Nef in Arena.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:47, Wed 24 Mar 2021.

Nef jabbed Izayah with the spear, then as the shortsword pierced his side, he pressed in to knife-hand Izayah in the ribs.

Action: Attack with spear (Hit AC 23 for 5)
Bonus: Unarmed attack (Hit AC 23 for 6)

AC 15 HP 2/27

s=spear
N=Nef
I= Izayah
xx= Brazier

Izayah let out a grunt of pain that quickly escalated to a louder yell as he was hit twice in a row by the goblin. He staggered, swaying on his feet, blood trickling from a few wounds at this point. He attempted to stab at the goblin twice once more but the thrusts were weak and didn't come close to striking home. He huffed out a breath, knowing the end was coming.


N=Nef
I = Izayah
xx= Brazier

---

HP: 5/36 | THP: 0 | AC: 18 | Spd: 30ft. | S1 2/3


Action: Attack with shortsword 1 (Miss).
Bonus Action: Off-hand attack with shortsword 2 (Miss).

09:18, Today: Izayah Hamadrell rolled 12,15 using d20+2,d20+2.  Concentration checks (DC 10).
09:18, Today: Izayah Hamadrell rolled 10,11,12,9 using d20+5,2d6+5,d20+5,2d6+5.  Shortswords vs Nef in Arena.

Wounded and breathing heavily, but seeing that his opponent is in almost as bad shape as him, Nef sidesteps the thrusts, and tries to catch Izayah in the solar plexus with the butt of his spear.

Action: Attack with spear (Non-lethal, Hit AC 17 for 10)
Bonus (if Izayah is still up): Unarmed attack (Hit AC 7 for 7)

AC 15 HP 2/27

s=spear
N=Nef
I= Izayah
xx= Brazier
This message was last edited by the player at 18:52, Thu 25 Mar 2021.

Izayah was getting a bit winded. Nef was fast and unrelenting. Until the goblin missed twice in a row and gave Izayah a bit of a breather!

He blinked in surprise - he was so surprised, in fact, that his first and almost automatic 'retort' shortsword strike missed completely again. But he frowned and grit his teeth, focused himself, and stabbed forward with ferocity, desperately wanting to end the match - and he knew it was a good fight either way!


N=Nef
I = Izayah
xx= Brazier

---

HP: 5/36 | THP: 0 | AC: 18 | Spd: 30ft. | S1 2/3


Action: Attack with shortsword 1 (Miss).
Bonus Action: Off-hand attack with shortsword 2 (Hit AC 18 for 11 piercing).

14:52, Today: Izayah Hamadrell rolled 11,8,18,11 using d20+5,2d6+5,d20+5,2d6+5.  Shortswords vs Nef in Arena.

Malkus hears the crowd momentarily gasp as Nef finally collapses to the ground. Before most of them fully process what happened, he starts cheering wildly for Izayah.

If Elisar is still seated, he gently nudges him with his knee to get his attention.

As the ferocious goblin sunk to his feet, Elisar stood and roared with approval, not so much for the fallen foe but for the valiant victory earned by his friend, Izayah.

As the healers rushed forward to treat the two competitors he stepped into the arena and began to play his viol, an energetic tune filling the air while fighters where hauled away and blood was cleared from the dusty ground.

Having watched the bout in silence, Victor claps enthusiastically as it ends.

"That was quite something to watch, I was certain Nef was going to be the winner," he comments to the others.

"Looks like you two are next. Good luck Carmen, Wendel hits like a boulder," he nudges Carmen's knee with his own, a cheeky grin on his face, "I'll keep Luna company until you finish."

Nef went down to Izayah's ferocious final onslaught!

Congrats, and thanks for the fight, Izayah! 400 xp for Izayah, 200 to Nef.

Izayah was breathing heavily, and fell backwards on to his butt when the weight of the battle suddenly fled and the shortswords were suddenly so heavy. He licked his lips and let go of the two weapons.

He crawled over to the goblin and uttered the divine phrase of a spell as he made a gesture and then placed a hand on the goblin's chest. Warm light filled his hand and then spread to the goblin, healing some of the wounds.

Izayah smiled and said, "Damn good fight. Thought y'had me." He let out a huffing half-breath half-chuckle. "Buy you a drink later?" He stood up and held a hand down to help the goblin up.

13:20, Today: Izayah Hamadrell rolled 5 using 1d8+2.  Cure Wounds no Nef.

After the fight ended, Tidelan groaned internally as the bard jumped back down into his arena without asking permission. He may have words with him later.

Tidelan leaps into the pit as well, and walks towards Izayah rather than Nef, since the goblin's life is not fading.

He arrives, and lifts Izayah's sword-wielding hand into the air and exclaims in a booming voice, "The most great fight of the day, I think! Izayah Hamadrell is the winner from his power to survive! We will continue in one hour!"

---

As the bleachers began to mostly clear out, Tidelan reaches out to shake Nef's hand. Fortunately, he was already conscious from Izayah's magic.

"With honesty, you did... impress me. I did not know your power when we first met." he says to the male goblin.

He also thinks for a moment and carefully touches his forehead to show he has no aggression, "You may be as strong as I am. So, I will heal you more."



Then, Tidelan exits the arena and finds Elisar. "Before you will sing, will you go and buy a barrel from Schmidt? Here is the money for that."

If Elisar accepts, Tidelan hands him two gold pieces for the purchase.

Nef accepts Izayah's hand to get up, saying "Very good fight, indeed, Izayah. I would be happy to have a drink with you, later." He smiles his blackened smile, which is hardly as friendly looking as he intends it, especially considering the sharpness of goblin teeth.

After the healing, Nef says to Tidelan. "Thank you, Tidelan. Strong? Not really. No more than any other goblin. Smarter than others of my kind? Perhaps. I've spent most of my life training mind and body, to best preserve the knowledge of my people. I know how to make the most out of a little bit of strength. It is not like I can turn into a bear."

Izayah gave a nod to Tidelan but focused more on Nef for the moment. "Sounds good." He didn't flinch at the...smile...though his eyebrows rose upward a little at it. He smiled back. "Well, I'll look for ya at the tavern later then."

He thrust one fist in to the air, indicating Nef should do that same, turning in a slow circle towards the crowd, "GOOD FIGHT, YEAH?!?!" He immediately regretted it as his ribs screamed in pain and he winced.

He walked over to retrieve his weapons, clean them off a bit and put them away before leaving the arena slowly, and with a bit of a limp.

In reply to Tidelan Wavyrus (msg # 113):

Elisar was about to launch into a merry song when Tidelan interrupted. His face fell, like someone had turned him into a puppy and then kicked him in the face. Grudgingly he took the coins and headed off to fetch a barrel as requested.

Nef raises his fist as well, and shouted, "Yeah!" He too, picked up his weapon, and leaning on the staff a bit, he left the arena.

Once Elisar returned with a barrel, Tidelan briefly nodded his head in gratitude. He added, "Your singing will be soon, I am... eager to hear it."

Then, he dragged the barrel to where he would soon gather the crowds. He began to shout, "A show of water magic! For your eyes, by Gaea the soul of our world! This most delicious drink for the cost from before!"

After the crowd had congregated around him, Tidelan makes a big show of casting the racial spell with far more aesthetic visuals than was strictly necessary.

...

He closes his moist eyes, and as his lids shut tightly, the sound around him seems to dampen, so when he lifts his arms, it is as if they are tired from swimming through a deep ocean... They move as if resisted by something mightier than wind. The man begins to sweat, but the droplets are too perfect to be truly natural from his pores. They glimmer in the sunlight, and smell of the beach, not at all odorous.

His hands finish lifting and his head falls back, as it does his silver hair floats around his shoulders, resting and waving softly on an invisible platform. It is like a beautiful, impossible and relaxing halo.

His veins can be seen through his skin now. They are a deep blue, almost navy in color. They become more saturated, until it is almost scary. His face seems to droop, almost as if it's beginning to melt... It is not a pleasant aesthetic. Then, he smiles knowingly, and cracks an eye towards the crowd, a gaze filled with understanding.

Any who will meet his eyes will be given a wordless message. Whether or not one can comprehend what his meaning in the smile and eye contact happens to be, is up to their intuition. For those who realize, they recognize that he is reassuring those who witness his offputting casting that it is not a negative experience for him... Some may infer that he even enjoys it all.

His face resets, the oncoming horror gone as if it never was... Instead, his position changes in a moment, to one of clearer beauty and benevolence.

His fingers seem more slender and graceful, his strong back bent as if he were a flexible tropical plant. His fingers grasp at nothing, and then at something. Those who will never use magic will never receive this gift. In his palm, sea green energy begins to swirl. He moves it around along his grip, his wrists, and then his forearms, building the tension in the audience as he explores the energy and it expands in response.

His shoulders rotate with the faint sound of a wave crashing, as his hands fall towards the barrel. His palms are upturned, and his fingers relaxed. The energy sits comfortably in his hands, and it continues to grow, nearly encompassing his limbs to his elbows.

Then, the power is released.

In less time than a hummingbird's heart can beat, in less time than a leaf can fall from an autumn tree, and in less time than a claw can rend flesh; The energy has transmuted itself into it's destined form. Two sparkling blue tendrils blast from his hands, over ten feet high. Not a single drop of mist escapes from the perfect conjurations.

The aquatic beams pass under the beautiful sun, and there is almost no distortion in the light, and it is beautiful.

The beams arc overhead, and then slam down with a surprising amount of force, but not enough to cause damage. The barrel fills to the brim with sparkling water, as mist briefly pours out from the top before dying within the wind.

A small froth spills over the edge, and lands on the ground. It soaks the frozen grass floor and is drunk by the earth. It's color does not match that of the water, and it would be more similar to that of a golden-hued brew. It smells faintly sweet and faintly savory.

The top of the water ripples twenty-eight times before settling immediately, as if the number were predetermined. The top of the water is perfectly level, and completely clear. One could gaze to the bottom of the barrel as if looking through unmoving, fresh air.

One could also gaze into the water, and find a lot more.

...

With the display done, Tidelan sighs heavily. Maybe with satisfaction or exhaustion, or both? Regardless, his form has returned to normal, and his position is standing. He looks at the crowd and gives a small bow, before announcing with an almost imperceptible tinge of woe in his deep voice, "The Water of The World. The cost, to drink." he extends his upturned hand as a clear symbol of expecting payment.

Hopefully that show will make their desire to try the water burn a little more.

Elisar watched the performance in silence, his face a mixture of awe and jealousy. Soon it was his turn. How could he follow that?

He stepped forward and began to play his viol and sing a song, but truth be told it wasn’t his finest work.

07:17, Today: Elisar Moonraven rolled 11 using 2d20+7, dropping the lowest dice only with rolls of 4,3.  Performance check with Adv.

During the halftime show, three families came an bought tickets for themselves. Parents and children included, eleven more tickets were purchases (6 adults, 5 children, if you charge a different price for kids.)

After the fight wound down, Wendel and Luna both went to enjoy the spectacle that was Tidelan's performance. Great big smiles blessed both their faces as Luna forgot momentarily that her brother was about to be in a fight with the woman she'd just met earlier. Wendel on the other hand enjoyed the break in pre-emptive adrenaline pumping through his veins. He'd need every ounce of it when it came to the fight. As the time drew closer he gave her another hug and left her to wander about while he went off to work on something else before the fight began. Finding a hole in the crowd he slipped away for a few moments of peace hopefully. Somewhere quiet to gather his thoughts and plan his strategy. Dipping in to his pocket he pulls out a rock. "Ready my little friend? This is just a bout between friends.. No need to fear our demise. We've got this." Being a rock, there is no response.

Malkus stands up to stretch his legs for a few moments between bouts. As the crowd around him thins, he meanders around the sidelines of the arena. He enjoys Elisar's song, even if he's seen the bard do better, bawdier routines.

After wasting an hour of his life pretending to be a golden pony then a white one, Tidelan swallowed down his self-inflicted indignancy like it was a mug's worth of burning acidic bile.

Then, after the children had scattered back to their families, and Elisar's slightly disappointing tunes vanished away, the genasi found some privacy before becoming a man again.

As he strut to the arena, where the crowds were gathering, he realized a heavy sound was coming from his waist. He had a momentary shock that he had maybe become malformed when he went from equine to hominid, before realizing it was just his coin pouch.

Wait, it was way more full than normal?

He blinked twice and thought back to when the tournament was beginning... He had gathered quite a lot of entry fees... He must not have been paying attention as he was so excited to start the fighting.

The druid held back the urge to spit on the ground... This whole act of being a tournament runner was so disingenuous. He felt ashamed for wearing such a skin at a time of such incredible violence.

Tidelan sighed shakily under his breath. He hadn't needed to embarrass himself as a children's entertainment spectacle after all... He went red with anger, and then with fear.

If Gaea had chosen today to keep an especially close watch on him... He would hate himself for it for years.

Regardless, he moved himself forward, determined to continue this stressful endeavor.

It wasn't that he wasn't happy with how things were going... Next time, he would make sure to avoid putting on a persona for the masses of faces that watched him... He felt silly, knowing this was such an obvious coping mechanism, that had so predictably blown up in his lying face...

He braced himself. It would be fine. Everything was going well, and this was a festive day. The attention wasn't on him anyway... it was on the fighters, mostly...

Hmm... maybe he could turn this around in the last match... but could he do such a thing without seeming arrogant? To declare himself the final surprise combatant would likely make him look less honest, not more so...

The genasi stored the idea away for now. He was already at the arena. He entered and stood in the middle of the sand pit.

He spoke up once the sounds of rustling and conversation had mostly settled, "Welcome back, citizens of Smith's Gambit!" he had, of course, rehearsed his words ahead of time, so that he did not stutter or speak so brokenly,

"The next fight of this day's round will soon begin!" He continued with empty and vacant eyes, and a voice that was not his own, "I have information to believe that it will be very much a colorful one!"

He bowed his head like a classical belwanjo, and leapt out of the pit so that the fighters could introduce themselves, this time. It was as much to mix things up as it was to give himself time to push down his annoyance at his lack of attention or sincerity, thus far today.

A colorful one? Is Tidelan really expecting that much from him? Or does he know something about Carmen...

Wendel gulps ever so slightly as he walks a little ways out into the designated fighting area. His eyes scan the various bits of blood that spot the arena from the previous fights and he fights the urge to gulp again. No, no more of that. He starts thinking about what he might say or do when Carmen comes into the field. So far all the contestants up to this point had been pretty congenial pre-fight. And he knows Carmen at least decently, having fought side by side with her. One hand gently taps his side where the little rock is stowed away in a pocket and the other, the ring baring hand, flexes from outstretched fingers pointing toward the ground to clenched fist to stretched out fingers again. The last time he was here Victor, his other companion had dispatched him easily enough and the thought brings a ping of fear of the pain again.

Where is Carmen at? Wendel looks to the stands where his sister sits anxiously. Maybe having met the woman he is about to face, Luna wont be as worried... Maybe.

Remembering what Tidelan had said about preparation before the fight, Wendel hopes Carmen would be up for agreeing to some. His frost armor would be real nice to have right now. He wouldn't feel so exposed... Should have asked her before coming out to face her...

Ah well. Maybe he can still ask when she enters the field. Where is she?

Not fully sure of himself, the fragile looking half elf doesn't even enter to the mid point of the arena as he cast his eyes about looking for his opponent.


Wendel rolled 18 using 1d20+3.  Initiative (Arena Match)
This message was last edited by the player at 04:42, Sun 04 Apr 2021.

The arena was much more imposing than she remembered when she had been a spectator. Wendel was already here, but the crowd seemed quite subdued to say the least. Maybe the excitement of the preparations inbetween had been too much. They were clearly tiring.

"I'm here for you Wendel. By the time we are done, you won't want to come out of that ring of yours. Are you ready for that?" she asks, walking around the edge of the arena. She keeps her distance, putting a pillar between her and the warlock.


HP: 22/22 | AC: 18 | Spd: 30ft. | Hexblade's Curse 1/1 (SR)| Divine Soul 1/1
Action: TBA | Move:  TBA  | Bonus: N/A
15:13, Today: Carmen Diaz rolled 3 using 1d20+2.  Initiative (arena). – [roll=1617520416.27438.352983]
This message was last edited by the player at 07:24, Sun 04 Apr 2021.

While waiting for the count Wendel figures he may as well engage in this.. banter? Or is she seriously threatening him? Oh gods had he done something to really upset her?

Staying right where he is behind one of the large cast iron braziers blazing with fire he calls back. At least right here the cold isn't so bad. "Ah I didn't see you out there Carmen. Are you sure ab^out that?" Dang it why did his voice have to crack right this moment. He isn't scared is he? Yes he is. But when isn't he...

"I look forward to our good, clean, fight... Hope you don't mind my disappearing now and then. It's just to make sure I can have a chance ya know. You're so fricken scary..."

"I'm scary? You should see your face in the morning." taunts Carmen...somewhat shocking herself to the level that she sinks to when there is a competition to be won. "Oh wait...let me show you." she says, her face becoming a mockery of what Wendel looks like as she casts an illusion upon herself.

Still waiting for the countdown....

Tidelan scowls at Carmen and shakes his head, before directing towards her "No magic just for you before the fight. I ask that you unmake that illusion."

He adds, "You two may show your agreement for just one preparation, before the count."

After waiting for them to give their responses, and perhaps make their preps, Tidelan casts Detect Magic and paces the edge of the arena in a single circui to absolutely ensure that there is fair play between these two.

The red-haired woman's slyness has put him slightly on edge.

Regardless, after a few tense moments, if he detects no problems, he returns to his original position and announces to the crowd, "This explosive battle between a magical man and magical woman will begin on zero!"

The genasi takes one last breath before hollering, "Three! Two! One! Zero!"

Noticeably, his pronunciation of 'three' and of 'zero' each have a single trill on the 'r's.

When the count is called Victor whistles loudly followed by a shout, "Come on, Wendel!"
This message was last edited by the player at 09:31, Mon 05 Apr 2021.

This is nothing like the friendly bout with Victor apparently. Whereas in that bout Wendel had felt mutual respect for the willingness to close in combat this feels like Carmen is taunting him just to get under his skin. His easily broken skin. Still a calmness fills him as the moments tick closer. Her insults slip through his memory and away as Wendel listens to Tidelan start the countdown.

Despite his desire to precast he know he and Carmen had already agreed not to so it came down to who was paying the closest attention to the Genasi's particular cadence. And Wendel had been paying very close attention.

As the count hits zero Wendel steps out for a clear view of the field for the first time this time around. As fast as he can he lets a new Terran incantation roll off his lips as he places his hand on the ground and forces energy of his patron through his ring into the earth itself. It's a small bit of energy but the ground responds and Wendel smiles at the feeling. This was an interesting new power. All over the arena the stone that makes up the floor suddenly became nearly impossible to see spikes that can tear anyone walking through it to shreds if they aren't careful. With that accomplishment complete the smallish half elf ducks back behind the cover of the burning brazier and hits the ground to make himself the smallest target possible for Carmen's inevitable assault. Sometimes the smart play is the cowardly one. He can only hope it pays off. Deep breaths. Deep calming breaths...


Action: Cast Spike Growth
The ground in a 20-foot radius centered on a point within range twists and sprouts hard spikes and thorns. The area becomes difficult terrain for the duration. When a creature moves into or within the area, it takes 2d4 piercing damage for every 5 feet it travels.

The transformation of the ground is camouflaged to look natural. Any creature that can't see the area at the time the spell is cast must make a Wisdom (Perception) check against your spell save DC to recognize the terrain as hazardous before entering it.

Movement: to I2 and drop prone.
 This placement should grant at the very least 1/2 cover for most points on the map Carmen can get to via walking through difficult terrain if not 3/4 or even full cover without Carmen moving.

Prone gives disadvantage to any attackers outside of 5 feet or advantage to anyone within 5 feet.

Carmen shifts her way through the thorns, making her way to a place of cover. There were only a few ways she could see this playing out now that she was trapped in the thorns, and none of them were good. She could barely see Wendel, but it was enough for some of her more subtle magicks to take effect if she was fortunate.



HP: 16/22 | AC: 18 | Spd: 30ft. | Hexblade's Curse 1/1 (SR)| Divine Soul 1/1
Action: Cast Mind Sliver on Wendel | Move:  5' to B9 and fall prone  | Bonus: Cast Hex upon Wendel
15:02, Today: Carmen Diaz rolled 6 using 2d4.  Spike Growth Damage. – [roll=1617606146.37939.352983]

Intelligence Save DC13 or suffer 4 damage, if you fail.
Also, roll at disadvantage on Wisdom ability checks due to Hex.
06:53, Today: Carmen Diaz rolled 4 using 1d6+1d6 with rolls of 3,1.  Mind Sliver + Hex damage. – [roll=1617663210.06466.352983]
This message was last edited by the player at 22:55, Mon 05 Apr 2021.

Something digs deep into Wendel's mind as he struggles to maintain concentration on his new spikes. Unfortunately that less physical spike of mental pain and the blurred vision that comes with whatever curse Carmen put on him is enough for him to lose it all. The spikes recede into the ground as Wendel writhes and rolls on the ground out of his cover. The half elf responds with more potentially perceived cowardice. His body starts to break down into something Carmen and Victor and a very few folks in the stands might recognize. First he becomes crumbling stone and then sand that siphons away into a tiny little compartment. The only thing left of his presence is a sound of a ring rotating on the ground, coming to a stop after just a few seconds.

Failed Int and Concentration checks. Nicely done :D

9/12 HP (Hex doesn't work that way ;) )

Movement: to I5

Action: Bottled Respite, Wendel vanishes from the field. Last seen at I5.

Carmen watches from where she is as the ring drops to the floor. She knew too well that Wendel loved to disappear within, and that he should be back shortly. In the meantime, she created a box that took up some space in the square to her right.

OOC: Stand and move to her right by one square, cast minor illusion on the same square as I'm in of a marble block.

Carmen probably knows where he is and he doesn't have much time... Wendel thinks about all of his options and none of them really end up very successful... So then, the unexpected thing. It didn't work against Victor but maybe against Carmen? She'd probably just do the mind thing again whatever that was. Within his ring he draws his dagger, breathes out and exits his ring.

The sand pours out and turns to stone and back to Wendel standing where he had disappeared. The fact that he isn't blasted immediately is a good sign. In the short time he has he looks around. There is a stone over there where Carmen should be. Thinking back to the fishfolk fight and how she'd told them not to ruin the illusion by interacting with it he does the thing he'd been planning to do but with the slightest hesitation in his step. No armor or anything to protect himself he rushes toward the marble block.

As he arrives he swipes the back of his hand at it half expecting to give himself a new bruise but as his hand passes through the illusion Carmen becomes visible crouched within it. His hand continues in the motion pulling back to make a fist and he swings it in his classic air punch as he speaks the Terran invocation that summons beams of force and stone into existence to blast at her. There's no anger or fear or any emotion really in his eyes, just a calculating understanding of how screwed he is if this gamble doesn't pay off. And it looks like it won't. Gulp. "Hey Carmen..."

Bonus Action: Exit Bottled Respite
Movement: to I5->D8
Action: Eldritch Blast misses and doesn't push her back out of the arena.

Wendel rolled 9 using 2d20+5, keeping the lowest dice only.  Eldritch Blast (Arena, Disadvantage very slim chance of working...). ACK! The first one was a crit...
This message was last edited by the player at 03:22, Tue 06 Apr 2021.

"Oh....Hi Wendel" says Carmen, her cover foiled.

Wendels blast flashes past her, and as she watches it sink into the wall, a mischievous twinkle catches Wendel

11:33, Today: Carmen Diaz rolled 12 using 1d6+1d6+5.  Damage. – [roll=1617679995.94715.352983]

11:32, Today: Carmen Diaz rolled 7 using 2d4.  Divine soul. – [roll=1617679937.81093.352983]

11:31, Today: Carmen Diaz rolled 14 using 1d20+5.  Spear attack. – [roll=1617679876.89919.352983

Spinning her spear, Carmen thrusts upwards from her crouched position, catching Wendel right in the stomach as she calls upon divine aid to guide her strike!

Once again Wendel has the briefest flash feeling of excruciating pain. And at the hands of a companion once again. Strange how the only times he's really been hurt out here is at the hands of the folks he usually fights alongside. And both times in this very pit.. The thoughts bleed to darkness as his body crumples to the ground. Blood begins to stain Tidelan's arena once more and not even for the last time today.

Victor grimaces in response to Carmen's blow before calling out, "Well struck Carmen!"

He turns slightly to Luna, "He's tougher than he looks, don't worry he'll be fine. A couple of clever moves there but he needs to learn to avoid getting in that close unless he can guarantee a decisive strike."

Tidelan leaps down into the fighting pit and casts a healing spell on the downed Wendel. Those spikes were extremely clever, and something even Tidelan cannot yet do...

That magical fight was indeed as flashy as he was hoping for, he doubt the crowd could be disappointed in what they saw...

He had kind of lost track of what occurred in those last moments, though...

After laying his hands on the bloody and wimpy man, Tidelan sighs. He certainly fights well for someone who falls so quickly. If he hadn't lost his spell, things may have been very different for him.

Once Wendel has been healed, Tidelan stands up, and moves towards Carmen, before moving to take her hand and lift it into the air to announce her victory to the crowd, "Match three winner!" he roars.

Tidelan lets go of the human woman's arm and gives her a small nod of acknowledgement before saying loudly, "The last fight of this day will be soon, be ready for a great ending!"

A pale Halfling enters the ring, an rune-covered wooden staff in his hands. He waits patiently for his opponent.

Initiative 8


K= Kaern

Avreene enters the arena from the other side with her shield in hand. Her eyes already sharp on her opponent, but they weren't harsh, yet. She stood, waiting patiently for the count down to begin.

13:11, Today: Avreene Dalancia rolled 11 using 1d20+1 ((10)).



AD = Avreene Dalancia
K= Kaern
This message was last edited by the player at 21:17, Wed 07 Apr 2021.