EMPIRE 6! - Mamut, Round 12, Event - Duel of Champions

**Gengy** · 2020-12-13, 12:56 PM (ISO 8601)

This is an event for the on-going - mostly always recruiting - world-building game, Empire 6. If interested, please check out our OOC here.

Duel of Champions

Proud-Laugh Stadium is a massive fortification of stone and wood, right smack in the middle of Snort Rocktusk territory; the southwest section of Swampum. This makes it mostly easy for visitors to sail in to the simple harbor between Clearfang and Rocktusk lands; though the harbor itself is not all that impressive, and the boats that the Uzii have are mostly just massive canoes that take entire teams of rowers. Still, the ‘harbor’ puts on a good showing and welcomes in visitors, before providing them with a guide to the Stadium.

For those arriving via land, the travel is much more difficult. Swampum is a terrible place to live. There are very few visibly constructed buildings, it’s rife with danger, and is – in fact – more swamp then home.

Unless, of course, you are one of the Uzii whose families have lived here for generations. Then the slow-moving waters, gnarly blue leaved trees, and unavoidable dangers are all just part of growing up. Some would notice that the trees also hide secret occupants, and depending on your disposition, it’s hard to say for sure which occupant is worse: finding yourself a Swamp Cat who is ready to fight for it’s food, or finding the Den of an Uzii family that is ready to fight. For any reason. At all. Even just because it’s morning. Or afternoon. Or night.

Uzii like to fight.

In recent years, though, they have begun to look more organized about it. For the few individuals who have lived long enough to remember the last time a giant party was held in Swampum, almost 30 years ago, they would note several key differences:

Though the boar-men and boar-women are still crude in some ways, the random shoving that happens devolves into less random brawls. Those that do start end quickly, and are often less brawl and more impromptu duel, as the Uzii participating seem pause, then consult with one another as to the merits of whether or not this is a situation that allows them to punch each other. Only if it is deemed that yes, they can punch others does the gusto with which an Uzii like to fight seem to return.

Additionally, the Uzii are wearing new styles of clothing; still rough leathers underneath for most, but many now also wear ornamented metallic green and shiny russet copper plates. Though many of these plates look battered and crude in design, the Uzii wear them proudly, seemingly ignoring the weight that they must bring. Some Uzii even have matching helmets that would appear to have been lined with furs on the inside for additional safety and comfort.

Most of these armor wearing Uzii are not participating in random brawls; they are guards, fending away the dangers of the swamp, and discouraging anyone from deeming that a guest was all right to punch. These guards grip their wooden spears or stone hammers tightly, and watch as guests arrive to the Rocktusk's large stadium. The Stadium itself stands tall and proud, it's stone foundations holding up the larger, gnarled wood that gives the Stadium an almost grown look. The entrance is large enough for a Deru to enter, though only barely, and some would still need to bend or crouch. Inside are three tiers of seating. The Bottom Floor is the tallest, and largest, where most of the crowd can find an increasing level of stone stair to sit upon when they aren't all on their feet anyways. The Upper Levels are smaller, and provide some privacy or just a private place to watch from. One of these is the Tusker Platform, which is usually where the Tuskers and Homage are invited to sit during official matters. However, in this instance, the seats for the Tuskers are empty, save one; Huge-Grin Rocktusk has the distinct honor or officiating the events within the Stadium, and the Tusker revels in welcoming everyone to the Stadium named after his late father.

The Arena Floor itself is a vast thing, that has been dug six feet below the Bottom Floor. Most of the time, it is used for important matters, such as Ko-Ball Matches. The dust and dirt on the exterior ring of the arena typically has benches for entire teams, sometimes to wallow literally in the mud that develops after a rain. Thankfully, Swampum has been arid and sunny for the past week, so the mud has dried out. The interior of the Arena Floor is carefully cultivated grass, grown and maintained over two decades by Shaman. It is ringed by stones to keep as much mud out as possible. It does not always work, but it helps make the Shamans' jobs a little easier.

Today, the Arena Floor plays host to the Duel of Champions: an invitational event to determine the strongest Hero of Mamut. Homage Closed-Fist Mudmore has decreed that all fights will be till one participant gives up, is fully immobilized, or unconscious. Deaths are discouraged, heavily. These are non-lethal duels for the betterment of Mamut, and even one Hero dying would be a loss to all of Mamut. If a Hero feels that they cannot control themselves, and that they are more likely to kill then defeat their opponents, then the Uzii are of the opinion that Hero needs more training and is not yet a Hero. Should it look like a Hero is about to die, the Judge for this event Thalesh’ir Merine Nahaar will step in. The Lady of the Moon is well respected by the Uzii, resides within Scions of Thalazir lands, is a retired Hero from Alqar herself, and promises to Judge fairly in the event that there is a question of whom won; killing blows will be stopped by her or one of her Sentinel assistants, and the one attempting to deliver the blow is disqualified.

All of that is for later, though. First, there is planned to be a grand party, and with so many peoples coming, where better to hold a party than in the Scrim Annex? This large building to the side of the Stadium is made predominantly of stone; befitting of the Scrim themselves. Their Ambassador usually makes this place their home, but has graciously allowed the Homage to receive important guests within the Annex. Delegates from other nations are brought to the Annex first, so that they may meet with Closed-Fist before being welcomed to explore Rocktusk lands. Also within the Annex, delegates will find themselves being greeted by Far-Reach Mudmore, current Shaman of the Mudmore Clan, and oldest son of the current Homage. Many expect he will be the next Homage, from how he is only 14 years old and already has quested to distant lands and found himself a wife. Coarse-pond Windswept is an exotic beauty - in Uzii terms - with a sandy brown coloring, speckled in white spots along her back and arms. She comes from a far off land to the west, where the Windswept Uzii have some sway. Tusker Shaman Deep-Sigh Thumpstrong is talking excitedly with the large Uzii woman, and it is obvious to anyone listening in that he hopes to find a mate for himself from her clan, even in his old age.

For the... less invited guests, or perhaps those more interested in treasure, there are rumors that one of the buildings nearby - in one of the larger but seedier looking huts, built into one of the gnarled swamp trees - lies a Gambling Den run not by a Den Mother, but by an Uzii who came back from Kursaal. Cook-Slab Leavehome technically is a member of Snort Rocktusk. The Leavehome Clan has a long history, though, of well... leaving home. They wander, and more recently, they wandered into Kursaal, and a number of them stayed. Rumors seem to indicate that the black furred Uzii, Cook-Slab, was run out of the Targiz city for some reason, but loved their lifestyle too much to not try and replicate it in Uzii lands. He typically makes sure that his Den always has a game of Kursaal Dice going, for those with a bit of something shiny they want to gamble. During the Duel of Champions, it's said that Cook-Slab is also taking bets on the winner of the tournament, but... no Uzii guard will point you towards the Gambling Den if you ask them.

They will happily direct you to the Food Hall, where - in addition to a good meal - many visiting dignitaries can find various Sounder Alphas, and other leaders of the Protectorate. Talky-Chieftess Sun-bright Deathgrasp, aunt to the Homage, oversees the hall, keeping it somewhat civilized. She mostly succeeds, with the help of the human from Rhödödendräk, Cheese Vizier Gordon Brieson, and the new Cäu leader of Cäuplakai, Big Chief Running-Ox. The former helps in the kitchens, while the latter both helps to keep the peace and runs messages to and from the Annex; having the political clout to interrupt even the Homage if the matter is important enough.

Spoiler: People

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Name	Leads	Location	Player
Homage Closed-fist Mudmore	Uzii Protectorate of Mamut	Scrim Annex	Gengy
Tusker Huge-Grin Rocktusk	Snort Rocktusk	Upper Levels (Tusker Platform)	Gengy
Merine Nahaar	Na’karat	The Arena Floor	Zayuz
Far-Reach Mudmore	Mudmore Clan as Shaman	Scrim Annex	Gengy
Deep-Sigh Thumpstrong	Snort Thumpstrong	Scrim Annex	Gengy
Coarse-pond Windswept	???	Scrim Annex	???
Cook-Slab Leavehome	Gambling Den	Gambling Den	Mystic
Talky-Chieftess Sun-bright Deathgrasp	No-Climb Cliffs	Food Hall	???
Cheese Vizier Gordon Brieson	Rhödödendräk	Food Hall	???
Big Chief Running-Ox	Cäuplakai	Food Hall	Potato?

Spoiler: Places

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Location	Description
Bottom Floor	The ground floor of Proud-Laugh Stadium, has the most seats, is very loud and filled with Protectorate people and guests
Upper Levels	Floors two and three of Proud-Laugh Stadium, including the Tusker Platform. Private rooms available. The overwhelming din of the crowd below makes conversations difficult to overhear.
Arena Floor	The dug out trench and platform area where Ko-Ball matches happen… and where the Duels will take place!
Scrim Annex	A stone building to the side of the Stadium, where guests are initially greeted, and a party for VIPs is occuring
Gambling Den	An UNOFFICIAL place for making wagers; find AND enter at your own risk
Food Hall	A large series of huts that have been joined together to form places to meet and eat

Spoiler: Games

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Champion Duels:

A tournament based on in-game Dueling mechanics. All Duels are non-lethal. Dueling Cultural Identities, Tech Bonuses, Faith Bonuses, ect do apply to these rolls. Winner is declared "Champion of Mamut" and recognized as such for the remainder of their life by all Uzii.

Kursaal Dice: (overseen by Player Mystic)

Each player rolls 3 separate d6s (not a 3d6 – roll 3 different 1d6)

The ranks of the rolls in order are:
“Straight Kill” 4-5-6
Triple – any triple that is not 3 Ones. Higher triples beat lower triples
“Flower” – any pair – the dice that is not of the pair, as long as its not a One, is the “Flower”. (with 3-3-4, the 4 is the "Flower") Higher flowers bear lower "Flowers”
“Corpse Flower” – Any matching pair of dice with a One (5-5-1 is equal to 2-2-1)
“Cespool Ones” 1-1-1
“Savlo Out” 1-2-3

If a player gets any other combination of dice (such as 2-3-4 of 2-5-6) they must reroll. If they still don’t a combination above on a reroll they forfeit that match.

If there is a tie on a roll between players – those rolls are both discounted (for example if Player A and B both roll a Straight Kill and Player C rolls a Corpse Flower – Player C wins).

If there is no winner – after counting all rerolls and ties, each player rerolls from scratch. Repeat until there is an eventual winner.

If you are going to be dueling, please enter your Champion(s) before the first Saturday of the round (19th) at 10pm EST.

**mystic1110** · 2020-12-14, 08:30 PM (ISO 8601)

Gambling Den

Coming or going? Always seemed that a Leavehome was going – it was what they were known for, but Cook-Slab was determined to set up shop here and stay. Of course, Proud-Laugh Stadium was not as grand as . . . well, the Grand Stands back home in Kursaal, but he left home after all. Well not left, per se, more like “run out of town”, but Cook-Slab was not going to dwell on that; he liked to think of it as coming back home. This was his ancestral land and something in the swamp air spoke to him and it spoke words that sounded something like “these country rubes were ripe for the picking by a city boy like him”.

Its been a little bit over a year since he arrived and already he was the largest Odds-Master in Rocktusk territory. Of course, that title was reserved for the ruler of Kursaal – even the masters and leaders of the various gangs in the city wouldn’t call themselves by such a title – but this was the country and he figured why not “go all in” (The goddess of gambling whispering to him from across the hall). The gambling den was dirty and small by Kursaal standards, but it was still a bustle of activity as Cook-Slab made sure that there were dice games, numbers being run on underground battle toad races, various duels being fought and gambled on. The worst of swampum could be found there one time or another and Cook-Slab couldn’t be happier.

Odds-Master Cook-Slab though was nervous. The Duel of Champions was sure to bring lots of wealth into Rocktusk, but where wealth goes Kursaal follows. He apprehensively rolls three dice over and over, while walking from green painted table to green painted table making sure that no one was cheating at the games. As he oversaw the games and the betting on the various heroes he kept looking at the door wondering if his past would walk right through. Coming or Going? A Leavehome never stops thinking those words.

Entering Rocktusk Territory

The human is covered in furs and hides that seem overabundant in the swamp air. He arrives on a curious sled made of living wood being pulled by a surprisingly tamed battle toad. The furs cover his face, but the sled pulls to a stop in the mud before Rocktusk Territory and the guards stationed there. The man pulls back his fur-lined hood and reveals a face marred by scars covering the entire left half and accompanied by a large grey beard – scraggly and full instead of long.

Ces is back from the north, his quest for the storm bird’s feather still incomplete. The north doesn’t let one stay for long – you need to lay down a base in the snow and comeback south to resupply. That is partly why Ces is here, although more truthfully he is specifically in Swampum to pay his respects to his mentor Deep-Sigh and tell him of his progress up north, and more importantly, he had heard that Merine would be judging the Uzii’s tournament and he had some words that he needed to say to her. But, though he no longer wore his copper mask – a symbol of his formerly fractured psyche – he remembered Deep-Sighs test for him and knew that to even enter Rocktusk Territory he would need to prove himself.

The Old Man waved his two fingered hand at the guards and announced himself as Mask-Punch, and then politely waited by his sled for the guards to bring forth their champion. He honestly did not even know if he would be able to get past this obstacle let alone the tournament itself. He had more grey hair than black at this point and the northern winds had borne their way into his bones. But the most important thing Deep-Sigh had beaten into him was that to be a hero you had to try.

Scrim Annex

The official delegation from Targiz is a mixed bunch. Various merchants, Battle Toad Breeders, Some tough looking customers, Vintners, some of those strange Harpy priests, but of note there is Redit’Anco An’Uorg, a large portly Goliath who walks around as if he owns the place. In Kursaal An’Uorg is a well-known fixer. He works on contract for a variety of underground bosses, monopoly kingpins, cult priests, and the ruling aristocrats of the city itself. He is here to facilitate various trades for the various parties that he represents, but he is here most importantly to bring a wayward son home for a reckoning. He flexes unconsciously and cracks his knuckles – he was going to enjoy this.

**Miltonian** · 2020-12-15, 01:34 AM (ISO 8601)

And now, put your hands together for...

The Ko Show!

Starring: Zinnia! As herself.

Theris! The Great, Magical, and Highest of Priestesses! (Among the Ko anyway)

Thorn! The Ko's hero and military leader

And introducing, Prince Onyx!

The Ko arrive in what had once been a glorious procession, but has since devolved into a cacophony of squabbling. Zinnia sits on a raised palanquin, rubbing her forehead with both claws. The Greeeeeeeat and Powerful Theris waves her staff, her new symbol of office, at a black-scaled Ko and shouts angrily at him. Thorn walks some distance ahead, a stoic look on his face as he pointedly ignores everything going on behind him. And as for the Black-Scaled Ko...

"You can't seriously expect me to stand around and..." His face contorts into an expression of disgust. "Be bored? You all seem to enjoy it, but I do not. All those stuffy, boring people with..." He makes a circle with his claws near his stomach. "So much fat. It's really...disgusting. Someone like me should always be near something pretty."

...He's kind of a jerk.

Theris attempts to bap him on the snout with her staff, but he nimbly evades her. Frustrated, she shakes it at him. "Onyx," she says, "The Uzii are an excellent audience, and good hosts. You won't call them ugly again!"

"The Uzii?" Onyx feigns shock and dismay, "Whoever mentioned the Uzii? I think you might be projecting there, oh wise and beneficent Theris." He smirks in a thoroughly aggravating way. Theris scowls.

"Stars above," Zinnia snarls, "We are supposed to be a united front. Will you two stop fighting like children newly hatched?"

Onyx bows elegantly. "Of course, oh dearest mother. Just as you say."

Theris and Zinnia glower at him, but the group falls silent as they finally approach their destination. As Thorn begins directing their entourage in the making of camp in their designated area, Onyx rises and beckons to two of the guards.

"I'm headed out," he says, "Don't look for me. I'll be back...after midnight. Ta-ta~" He smiles winningly at the two guards, both young and female. They stare back at him, blank-faced, as is their duty, but nod subtly. He grins. It is all the invitation he needs. With them in tow, he leaves to find trouble. No one tries to stop him. Theris even seems a little relieved to see him go.

"Pompous windbag," she mutters. Zinnia raises what passes for an eyebrow at her. "What?" Theris snaps.

"Nothing at all," Zinnia replies, hiding a smile.

The Scrim Annex

Thorn quickly abandons the camp, and the squabbling royal family, and heads to the Annex. He is not sure if this is the place to announce his intent to be in the tournament, but it is at least a good spot to announce his presence.

He moves forward, muttering apologies to anyone he has to step around or over, and makes his way towards Homage. Best to pay proper respects, yes.

"Hail, noble Uzii," he says, inclining his head, "I am Thorn of the Ko, champion of the Trinity of Light. I am honored by the invitation your leaders have extended, and look forward to proving myself in ways that no Ko has ever done before: in combat against the strongest of Mamut."

Theris and Zinnia also come a little later to pay similar respects, but as I am sure Gengy has enough to do, I am fine saying that it happened and they moved on.

The Scrim Annex (Again)

Despite his words to the contrary, Onyx finds that all the interesting people are headed here at the moment, and so takes his two stoic guards and heads in that direction as well. Moodily, he walks around and stares openly at the various delegates, paying no heed to 'polite behavior' or the like.

And thus he bumps, almost literally, into Redit’Anco An’Uorg.

Scrambling backwards, he scowls upwards and puffs out his chest. Still, the Goliath is big...and that alone is enough to draw a little more tact than the Ko prince usually has. "Please, do watch where you're going, sir," he says, with only a little bit of heat in his voice.

**mystic1110** · 2020-12-15, 02:12 PM (ISO 8601)

Scrim Annex

An’Uorg felt a small nudge on his leg. Looking down he spied an indignant Ko. Now, you don't become a Fixer in Kursaal missing a jug of wine in the cellar in your head - meaning, An'Uorg was not dim. Sure he preferred more direct solutions and some took that to mean that he was stupid, but thinking he was stupid was perhaps a good way to prove your own stupidity. This was a long way around to say - looking around An'Uorg could not see that many Ko. Ko were around in Swampum but they didn't live in Swampum the same way they lived in Kursaal. True, no one lived elsewhere the way they lived in Kursaal, but Kursaal may in fact be the largest Ko city aside from Towerhome, the little buggers were everywhere. They were hired as messengers and cutpurses, dealers and card sharks - they were regularly standing around getting hired for odd jobs as Ko-Balls or flower pickers and florists. Soil! An'Uorg even once worked for a Ko crime boss who fashioned himself a beggar king! It was not unusual to see a Ko back home, here though . . . a Ko in Swampum during a so called Duel of Champions was most probably an important Ko.

An'Uorg raised his considerably large hands palm up to his side in the tradition greeting the Targiz and boomed in a deep voice.

Apologies. The fault is mine. What brings you to Swampum? I have been here many times and have not seen many Ko that are not playing Ko-Ball. As reparations, if this is your first time in the swamp, perhaps I can help make your time here more entertaining.

**Aventine** · 2020-12-15, 11:25 PM (ISO 8601)

Tšrãák and his companions sail down and arround to reach Rocktusk territory, though they leave the more impressive sailing craft a little ways off the coast and row into harbor in simper canoes. Ẉlìḥáu Mjẽilọ̀p, arriving separately, makes no such roundabout move and simply sails all the way into the harbor, entirely intending to show off the quality of his best sailing boat to everyone present.

Tšrãák makes his way quickly to the Homage to introduces his companions.

"Great Homage of the Uzii. I, Sọ́gẹ Tšrãák, am here to fight and win! And to bring you some news of the north, if you are perhaps interested.

"But first! My elven friend here is Ãzjé. He is fierce and dangerous, but his people prefer stealth and ambush to an open brawl, and so he has decided to pass on competing today. And this here is my cousin Rẹ̌tšrũ. My aunt Rẹ̌tšrìj’s half Wákhẹn son, and a respected voice in Jù Fǎihlè. Finally, the great explorer and adventurer Gọ̀uhrèi Sọró, who will be competing, as well he should."

Sọró looks mildly bored, eager to get the pleasantries over with so that he can go and prepare. The twenty-something Rẹ̌tšrũ, on the other hand, is clearly uncomfortable, the swamp being so different from the open fields of his home. And the history between the Sọ́kǎu and Uzii over Jù Fǎihlè very much in his mind.

Ãzjé though, dressed only in a loincloth, looks quite pleased with his surroundings, the dense swamp being on the contrary a much more comfortable setting than open land for one used to the deep forest of his home. "Yes. I have little taste for this sort of fighting. But I wonder, Homage, if you might know of some rare, dangerous creatures hidden off in the trees. Some predator found only here in your lands. Something worth stalking, so that I may bring a worthy soul back north with me?"

Later (Food Hall)

Tšrãák makes his way to the food hall, gathering a small pile of food and drink. Well into this thirties now, his obsessive dedication to training has kept him from paying the price of his overindulgence, but anyone familiar with him and/or looking closely enough will notice that the signs of fat are starting to appear, and that age is not likely to be kind to the chieftain.

For now, he digs into his feats, eyeing the other guests already gathered there to try and determine who is likely to be the most interesting conversationalist.

Spoiler: Entries

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both heroes, Gọ̀uhrèi Sọró (9) and Ẉlìḥáu Mjẽilọ̀p (10) will enter. I'm not clear if you intended to limit it to heroes, or if rulers can enter too, but Tšrãák (9) will enter, and will loudly question the parentage and virility of anyone who tells him otherwise.

**Silent_Interim** · 2020-12-16, 06:56 AM (ISO 8601)

Already present before any of the other guests is the usual resident of the Scrim Annex, Ambassador Loje, an unusually short Scrim with a pair of fearsome-looking but largely ornamental stone tusks styled to look like those of the Uzii. They are jovial and welcoming, and glad of the opportunity to be a party-goer rather than host for once. Still, they cannot restrain the urge to mingle through the crowds present, doing their best to give at least a quick greeting to everyone passing through their home. Loje has done their best to adopt the customs of Swampum, but still they are a Scrim at their core, and fundamentally inclined to people-pleasing and orderliness, and so they cannot help but try and be a good host, despite the fact that today, the Uzii are playing that role.

Loje is also uncannily well-informed about goings-on in Thun, as the close relationship the Scrimthun Unity has with the Dreamspeakers allows them to receive much more regular updates on home affairs than they otherwise would. It is also well-known that those wishing to pass a message directly to Thunspeaker Nithor could do much worse than to try and have a private word with the ambassador.

Slightly later to arrive is the official delegation from Thun. Though delegation turns out to be perhaps a strong word, as Warspeaker Tior arrives alone, coming from the South. Those who have met Tior previously find that a strange change of demeanor has come over them. Where once they seemed full of rage, they are all of a sudden much more thoughtful, and even make the basic effort to be polite to the obviously important. Much more immediately striking, though, is the physical change.

There is a wide variety in what Scrim choose to carve onto their bodies, but there are some common elements. While it has not been fashionable for many many years to carve replicas of actual faces, it is considered gauche to not have at the very least something resembling the rough outline of such on the front of the head. Most people tend to find the complete absence of a face discomforting, and the Scrim are, for whatever reason, included in that number. Certainly, though, even among the most avant-garde and questionably tasteful sculptors in Thun, it would be out of the question to leave the facial region completely blank.

So of course, Tior has done exactly that. Where once was a roughly-hewn patch with vague divots that could have been eyes and something approaching a jawline, there is instead a smooth surface across the whole front of Tior's head. The marble itself is not smooth through, there being some whorls and patches of colour, but the actual surface of the stone is clean and flat.

After their arrival, Tior makes their way to the Annex, and after going through the pleasantries required of them, immediately leaves. The ambassador tries to make their way through the crowd to intercept them, but Tior is gone before they can. From there, Tior heads directly to the arena, where they wait for the tournament to officially begin.

**Gengy** · 2020-12-16, 04:07 PM (ISO 8601)

Spoiler: Entering Rocktusk Territory

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Originally Posted by mystic1110

Entering Rocktusk Territory

The human is covered in furs and hides that seem overabundant in the swamp air. He arrives on a curious sled made of living wood being pulled by a surprisingly tamed battle toad. The furs cover his face, but the sled pulls to a stop in the mud before Rocktusk Territory and the guards stationed there. The man pulls back his fur-lined hood and reveals a face marred by scars covering the entire left half and accompanied by a large grey beard – scraggly and full instead of long.

Ces is back from the north, his quest for the storm bird’s feather still incomplete. The north doesn’t let one stay for long – you need to lay down a base in the snow and comeback south to resupply. That is partly why Ces is here, although more truthfully he is specifically in Swampum to pay his respects to his mentor Deep-Sigh and tell him of his progress up north, and more importantly, he had heard that Merine would be judging the Uzii’s tournament and he had some words that he needed to say to her. But, though he no longer wore his copper mask – a symbol of his formerly fractured psyche – he remembered Deep-Sighs test for him and knew that to even enter Rocktusk Territory he would need to prove himself.

The Old Man waved his two fingered hand at the guards and announced himself as Mask-Punch, and then politely waited by his sled for the guards to bring forth their champion. He honestly did not even know if he would be able to get past this obstacle let alone the tournament itself. He had more grey hair than black at this point and the northern winds had borne their way into his bones. But the most important thing Deep-Sigh had beaten into him was that to be a hero you had to try.

The guards at the edge of Rocktusk Territory are suddenly both extremely excited, and also quick to work things out amongst themselves. A rather large - for an Uzii - male emerges victorious from a quick scuffle amongst his peers, and stabs his spear into the soft soil.

"Mask-Punch. Rules say you no enter without fight. Tusker Huge-Grin not here. Alpha Toe-Toss not here. You face Chief Fair-fight," the large Uzii warrior says, slapping his own chest to indicate he is talking about himself. "I test you. Find out if you still strong. Come."

With that, the large Uzii male charges, leaving no room for negotiation. He stays low to the ground, and seems intent on attempting to hit the human hero in the legs with a thick Uzii skull; reinforced with an armored copper cap.

Spoiler: OOC to Mystic

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((OOC: Mystic, feel free to write Ces's victory. Fair-fight ends up giving it his all, but his attacks are... predictable for an Uzii trained warrior.))

Spoiler: Targiz Delegation

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Originally Posted by mystic1110

Scrim Annex

The official delegation from Targiz is a mixed bunch. Various merchants, Battle Toad Breeders, Some tough looking customers, Vintners, some of those strange Harpy priests, but of note there is Redit’Anco An’Uorg, a large portly Goliath who walks around as if he owns the place. In Kursaal An’Uorg is a well-known fixer. He works on contract for a variety of underground bosses, monopoly kingpins, cult priests, and the ruling aristocrats of the city itself. He is here to facilitate various trades for the various parties that he represents, but he is here most importantly to bring a wayward son home for a reckoning. He flexes unconsciously and cracks his knuckles – he was going to enjoy this.

Homage Closed-Fist is getting older, and can feel the aches and pains in his body in the mornings; even if his hair and vitality still visibly belay his age. He wears an ornate set of armor that seems more ornamental then practical, but the Homage wears it easily, as though it were not a new thing and he had been doing so all his life.

"Friends from Targiz!" The learned leader of the Uzii has excellent diction, and is easy to understand, even as he grins and welcomes the Goliaths into the Scrim Annex. "Good to see you! Welcome once more to Proud-Laugh Stadium. How have your travels been?"

Spoiler: A Thorn at Our Sides

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Originally Posted by Miltonian

The Scrim Annex

Thorn quickly abandons the camp, and the squabbling royal family, and heads to the Annex. He is not sure if this is the place to announce his intent to be in the tournament, but it is at least a good spot to announce his presence.

He moves forward, muttering apologies to anyone he has to step around or over, and makes his way towards Homage. Best to pay proper respects, yes.

"Hail, noble Uzii," he says, inclining his head, "I am Thorn of the Ko, champion of the Trinity of Light. I am honored by the invitation your leaders have extended, and look forward to proving myself in ways that no Ko has ever done before: in combat against the strongest of Mamut."

The reaction to the large Ko hero, made of twisted roots and plants that smell so similar to the Amaryllis Flower the Uzii hate so much, is a predictable one. Once the Shaman in the room start yelling for the guards to stand down and stop being morons, and the Homage himself walks forward with nary a weapon in his hands, things quiet down a bit. "Hail, Thorn, Guardian of the Ko, Champion of the Trinity of Light. We were expecting you. Battle Mother Pain-Drop has nothing but high praise for you, and she said that you are one of those she looks forward to fighting with most. She is wandering the grounds out side somewhere, readying herself for combat, if you care to look for her. For now, though... I will make sure to send word - again - to the Uzii warriors that you are only a threat should we threaten the Ko. Something no Uzii has any mind to do, outside of an official Ko-Ball game. And those Ko are professionals!"

Spoiler: Sokau- IS THAT AN ELF?

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Originally Posted by Aventine

Tšrãák and his companions sail down and arround to reach Rocktusk territory, though they leave the more impressive sailing craft a little ways off the coast and row into harbor in simper canoes. Ẉlìḥáu Mjẽilọ̀p, arriving separately, makes no such roundabout move and simply sails all the way into the harbor, entirely intending to show off the quality of his best sailing boat to everyone present.

Tšrãák makes his way quickly to the Homage to introduces his companions.

"Great Homage of the Uzii. I, Sọ́gẹ Tšrãák, am here to fight and win! And to bring you some news of the north, if you are perhaps interested.

"But first! My elven friend here is Ãzjé. He is fierce and dangerous, but his people prefer stealth and ambush to an open brawl, and so he has decided to pass on competing today. And this here is my cousin Rẹ̌tšrũ. My aunt Rẹ̌tšrìj’s half Wákhẹn son, and a respected voice in Jù Fǎihlè. Finally, the great explorer and adventurer Gọ̀uhrèi Sọró, who will be competing, as well he should."

Sọró looks mildly bored, eager to get the pleasantries over with so that he can go and prepare. The twenty-something Rẹ̌tšrũ, on the other hand, is clearly uncomfortable, the swamp being so different from the open fields of his home. And the history between the Sọ́kǎu and Uzii over Jù Fǎihlè very much in his mind.

Ãzjé though, dressed only in a loincloth, looks quite pleased with his surroundings, the dense swamp being on the contrary a much more comfortable setting than open land for one used to the deep forest of his home. "Yes. I have little taste for this sort of fighting. But I wonder, Homage, if you might know of some rare, dangerous creatures hidden off in the trees. Some predator found only here in your lands. Something worth stalking, so that I may bring a worthy soul back north with me?"

Spoiler: Entries

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both heroes, Gọ̀uhrèi Sọró (9) and Ẉlìḥáu Mjẽilọ̀p (10) will enter. I'm not clear if you intended to limit it to heroes, or if rulers can enter too, but Tšrãák (9) will enter, and will loudly question the parentage and virility of anyone who tells him otherwise.

"Sọ́kǎu. Honored fighters. Deadly foes. Peace this day. Know that today and for all of the tournament, no Uzii will be first to cause you harm that you do not first invite with word or deed. On my honor as Homage, I would kill them myself." Closed-Fist said that words for a respected foe. He did feel compelled to add, "Unless you're in the duels. Then all promises are off, beyond not killing!"

"I would be honored to hear work of news of the north, and... wait. Did you say... elven friend?"

The Homage is of calm demeanor, but his nose twitches as he looks from Tsraak to Azje. Then back again. The tension in the roof rises a bit, as silence seems to fall. All the Uzii in the room are paying attention.
Chuffing, the Homage struggles to hold something in, and seems to finally lose a battle with himself. "Sọ́gẹ Tšrãák, Chief of Deadly Foes. Answer me honestly: has this elven friend eaten of Uzii flesh? Of one of our precious Daughters?"

Spoiler: Scrim in Scrim Annex

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Originally Posted by Silent_Interim

Already present before any of the other guests is the usual resident of the Scrim Annex, Ambassador Loje, an unusually short Scrim with a pair of fearsome-looking but largely ornamental stone tusks styled to look like those of the Uzii. They are jovial and welcoming, and glad of the opportunity to be a party-goer rather than host for once. Still, they cannot restrain the urge to mingle through the crowds present, doing their best to give at least a quick greeting to everyone passing through their home. Loje has done their best to adopt the customs of Swampum, but still they are a Scrim at their core, and fundamentally inclined to people-pleasing and orderliness, and so they cannot help but try and be a good host, despite the fact that today, the Uzii are playing that role.

Loje is also uncannily well-informed about goings-on in Thun, as the close relationship the Scrimthun Unity has with the Dreamspeakers allows them to receive much more regular updates on home affairs than they otherwise would. It is also well-known that those wishing to pass a message directly to Thunspeaker Nithor could do much worse than to try and have a private word with the ambassador.

Slightly later to arrive is the official delegation from Thun. Though delegation turns out to be perhaps a strong word, as Warspeaker Tior arrives alone, coming from the South. Those who have met Tior previously find that a strange change of demeanor has come over them. Where once they seemed full of rage, they are all of a sudden much more thoughtful, and even make the basic effort to be polite to the obviously important. Much more immediately striking, though, is the physical change.

There is a wide variety in what Scrim choose to carve onto their bodies, but there are some common elements. While it has not been fashionable for many many years to carve replicas of actual faces, it is considered gauche to not have at the very least something resembling the rough outline of such on the front of the head. Most people tend to find the complete absence of a face discomforting, and the Scrim are, for whatever reason, included in that number. Certainly, though, even among the most avant-garde and questionably tasteful sculptors in Thun, it would be out of the question to leave the facial region completely blank.

So of course, Tior has done exactly that. Where once was a roughly-hewn patch with vague divots that could have been eyes and something approaching a jawline, there is instead a smooth surface across the whole front of Tior's head. The marble itself is not smooth through, there being some whorls and patches of colour, but the actual surface of the stone is clean and flat.

After their arrival, Tior makes their way to the Annex, and after going through the pleasantries required of them, immediately leaves. The ambassador tries to make their way through the crowd to intercept them, but Tior is gone before they can. From there, Tior heads directly to the arena, where they wait for the tournament to officially begin.

Before he departs from the Annex, Warspeaker Tior is informed of where to find Battle Mother Pain-Drop Redmoon: on the outskirts of the Arena, getting one last bit of exercise in before the duels begin.

"Ambassador Loje," Closed-Fist begins after Tior leaves, "I was expecting... more... from the Scrim than just Warspeaker Tior. Or at least a Warspeaker with more... expressive stone. Have we offended your people somehow? Should I be concerned?"

**Silent_Interim** · 2020-12-16, 06:07 PM (ISO 8601)

Originally Posted by Gengy

Before he departs from the Annex, Warspeaker Tior is informed of where to find Battle Mother Pain-Drop Redmoon: on the outskirts of the Arena, getting one last bit of exercise in before the duels begin.

"Ambassador Loje," Closed-Fist begins after Tior leaves, "I was expecting... more... from the Scrim than just Warspeaker Tior. Or at least a Warspeaker with more... expressive stone. Have we offended your people somehow? Should I be concerned?"

Loje makes a pained noise, and wrings their hands with a grinding of rock against rock. "Would that I knew, Homage. The Thunspeaker has been behaving... oddly, of late, pushing aside old friends and allies within Thun. I do not know of any offense the Uzii have given, but... I cannot say. In fact, I had expected the Tradespeaker and the rest of the delegation sent to Targiz to oversee the matters with the emeralds to be coming. And Tior... Tior has always been a little unstable, but this is..." They shake their head. "I am worried. I see dark days for Thun ahead."

Outside, Tior hunts for the Battle Mother, and upon finding her calls out a greeting, throwing their arms in the air. "Pain-Drop! It is good to see you." Tior has learned more of the Uzii tongue since the two last met, no longer speaking it brokenly, although there is still a heavy accent to their words. "I am looking forward to our rematch today! Last time, I was not ready! Today is different. Will be a good fight!"

This is probably the most words Tior has spoken to Pain-Drop in an unbroken string in all the time they have spent together.

**Miltonian** · 2020-12-16, 06:31 PM (ISO 8601)

Originally Posted by mystic1110

Scrim Annex

An’Uorg felt a small nudge on his leg. Looking down he spied an indignant Ko. Now, you don't become a Fixer in Kursaal missing a jug of wine in the cellar in your head - meaning, An'Uorg was not dim. Sure he preferred more direct solutions and some took that to mean that he was stupid, but thinking he was stupid was perhaps a good way to prove your own stupidity. This was a long way around to say - looking around An'Uorg could not see that many Ko. Ko were around in Swampum but they didn't live in Swampum the same way they lived in Kursaal. True, no one lived elsewhere the way they lived in Kursaal, but Kursaal may in fact be the largest Ko city aside from Towerhome, the little buggers were everywhere. They were hired as messengers and cutpurses, dealers and card sharks - they were regularly standing around getting hired for odd jobs as Ko-Balls or flower pickers and florists. Soil! An'Uorg even once worked for a Ko crime boss who fashioned himself a beggar king! It was not unusual to see a Ko back home, here though . . . a Ko in Swampum during a so called Duel of Champions was most probably an important Ko.

An'Uorg raised his considerably large hands palm up to his side in the tradition greeting the Targiz and boomed in a deep voice.

Apologies. The fault is mine. What brings you to Swampum? I have been here many times and have not seen many Ko that are not playing Ko-Ball. As reparations, if this is your first time in the swamp, perhaps I can help make your time here more entertaining.

You Have My Attention

Fortunately, more for himself than for An'Uorg, this offer is keenly interesting to Onyx and he quickly forgets the 'offense' against him. He puts a claw to his chin and appears to consider it, though he's already made up his mind. "I believe," he says, "I could use a little entertainment. Yes." He grins back at his two guards, who have become a little more casual. The two red-scaled females eye him and An'Uorg, but neither bar him nor encourage him. He shrugs and says. "Well, don't keep me in suspense now."

Originally Posted by Gengy

A Thorn at Our Sides

The reaction to the large Ko hero, made of twisted roots and plants that smell so similar to the Amaryllis Flower the Uzii hate so much, is a predictable one. Once the Shaman in the room start yelling for the guards to stand down and stop being morons, and the Homage himself walks forward with nary a weapon in his hands, things quiet down a bit. "Hail, Thorn, Guardian of the Ko, Champion of the Trinity of Light. We were expecting you. Battle Mother Pain-Drop has nothing but high praise for you, and she said that you are one of those she looks forward to fighting with most. She is wandering the grounds out side somewhere, readying herself for combat, if you care to look for her. For now, though... I will make sure to send word - again - to the Uzii warriors that you are only a threat should we threaten the Ko. Something no Uzii has any mind to do, outside of an official Ko-Ball game. And those Ko are professionals!"

Thorn grins. "Well, perhaps I will get to find out what it's like to be thrown through the air, if the strength of Mamut's heroes is enough to lift me." He chuckles, in good humor. "And I'll make sure to not hurt any of them too bad when I come crashing back to the ground."

That is a joke, probably. Thorn is chuckling, but there is a determined gleam in his eyes. He intends to win this tournament!

**SOSDarkPhoenix** · 2020-12-16, 07:03 PM (ISO 8601)

As the Scions enter Swampum for the very first time, they take extra care to be courteous to their Uzii hosts, bringing with them fine silk sheets and jewelry laden with comet stone. All in all, the Scion delegation is roughly thirty strong, most of them attendants carrying said gifts, some of them Wardens to protect the Thalaz'ir, and the rest are 'VIPs'.

The Arena Floor

The young Thalaz'ir Doraan visits the arena floor first, aiming to meet up with his mother, her having arrived in Swampum well ahead of the Scions main delegation. "Mother! It's good to see you here safe and sound! Have you been the judge of such an event before? I remember the tales you told us of the Uzii growing up, and from what I've seen they certainly live up to their legend. They have a quiet, settled ferocity about them."

The Scrim Annex
Chepri enters rather quietly into the Scrim Annex, awkwardly shuffling herself into a corner to observe the assembled crowd, but she is not alone. By her side stands a colossal beast of a 'man'. A white furred yeti, or Risasno, rarely seen outside of the northwestern mountain valleys of Mamut. The great yeti stands two humans tall and the armour upon his breast shines dazzlingly in the right light. "These Uzii are strong. They will put up good fight." Chepri rolls her eyes. Even with her... 'condition', she hates fighting for sport. "Right.. if you say so. I'll just go find Thorn or my mother and watch you idiots make a bloody mess of each other from on high." She chuckles to herself as she spots her friend, Thorn (sort of hard to miss him!), and heads on over.

"Hey Thorn. You going to be participating in the fight today?" she asks, careful to pick a time when Thorn isn't in the middle of a conversation. She sports her usual attire, limited jewelry but a fancy silk dress that seems to never get dirty or ruined no matter how many days she treks through a swamp.

**Aventine** · 2020-12-16, 08:31 PM (ISO 8601)

Originally Posted by Gengy

"Sọ́kǎu. Honored fighters. Deadly foes. Peace this day. Know that today and for all of the tournament, no Uzii will be first to cause you harm that you do not first invite with word or deed. On my honor as Homage, I would kill them myself." Closed-Fist said that words for a respected foe. He did feel compelled to add, "Unless you're in the duels. Then all promises are off, beyond not killing!"

"I would be honored to hear work of news of the north, and... wait. Did you say... elven friend?"

The Homage is of calm demeanor, but his nose twitches as he looks from Tšrãák to Ãzjé. Then back again. The tension in the roof rises a bit, as silence seems to fall. All the Uzii in the room are paying attention.
Chuffing, the Homage struggles to hold something in, and seems to finally lose a battle with himself. "Sọ́gẹ Tšrãák, Chief of Deadly Foes. Answer me honestly: has this elven friend eaten of Uzii flesh? Of one of our precious Daughters?"

Ãzjé frowns and glares at the Homage. "The friend can speak; and knows more about what he has or has not eaten than Tšrãák. I carry the soul of an Uzii, yes, as I carry the souls of many. The bear that makes me strong, the cougar that makes me silent. Some humans, that build their cities and forget what it means to live, and others that had gone rabid. I have seen many strange things outside my home. But do not worry, it is my intention that plans are made so that when I die her soul will be returned to her people. I am not without a sense of propriety, and am honored to serve in this role."

**Gengy** · 2020-12-16, 10:21 PM (ISO 8601)

Spoiler: Scrim in the Scrim Annex

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Originally Posted by Silent_Interim

Loje makes a pained noise, and wrings their hands with a grinding of rock against rock. "Would that I knew, Homage. The Thunspeaker has been behaving... oddly, of late, pushing aside old friends and allies within Thun. I do not know of any offense the Uzii have given, but... I cannot say. In fact, I had expected the Tradespeaker and the rest of the delegation sent to Targiz to oversee the matters with the emeralds to be coming. And Tior... Tior has always been a little unstable, but this is..." They shake their head. "I am worried. I see dark days for Thun ahead."

"Fear not, Ambassador," The Homage grins, "Because if you ask for it, the Uzii will be happy to lend you a light. Be it just to shine in the darkness, or wave it in the face of whatever shadows have cast such a pallor upon you. We can be a spark, or a blaze, if it means keeping Mamut and all of her peoples safe."

"I admit," The Homage says, seeming to think of some other troubles, "We cannot be everywhere. I always wish I could do more. Things just go... so wrong... sometimes. And that is why we must stay strong. For ourselves, our families, and our friends. And though I cannot call the Scrim allies, for that is not the Uzii way... I am happy to call them friends."

With a sly look upon his face to show that he is joking, Closed-Fist mutters, "...someone has to be more rock-headed then my warriors. Though... it is a close thing, sometimes."

Spoiler: Two Friends, Two Heroes

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Originally Posted by Silent_Interim

Outside, Tior hunts for the Battle Mother, and upon finding her calls out a greeting, throwing their arms in the air. "Pain-Drop! It is good to see you." Tior has learned more of the Uzii tongue since the two last met, no longer speaking it brokenly, although there is still a heavy accent to their words. "I am looking forward to our rematch today! Last time, I was not ready! Today is different. Will be a good fight!"

This is probably the most words Tior has spoken to Pain-Drop in an unbroken string in all the time they have spent together.

Pain-Drop is a massive female Uzii, and is busy lifting stones in the forest; close enough that she can see the people milling about on the outskirts of the Arena, but not close enough that she has a... large... audience. Still, the stones she is lifting and tossing seem to be hefty, and they make loud THUMPS when they hit the ground. There are several wide eyed whelps and even a few older Uzii (male and female!) who are quietly looking on from spots in the nearby gnarled trees. The Battle Mother snarls a bit as one of them gasps when she hurls two stones at once, each easily weighing as much as an Uzii male in their prime.

Silence returns to the clearing as she goes to retrieve the stones, and when she hears someone call her name, she rolls her eyes and prepares to yell at them for breaking her concentration. Only to find that instead of a growl on her lips, she finds a smile instead.

"Tior." The stone Pain-Drop has picked up is tossed over her shoulder without a thought. It makes a THUMP as the large female Uzii charges straight for the large Scrim, her arms open wide. Many of the nearby Uzii think they are in for a preview of the matches; indeed, Tior finds himself lifted off the ground, all be it briefly.

But warmly as well. Or as warm as a Scrim might feel. Pain-Drop has wrapped her friend in a massive hug before letting him go again. Her mouth split into a wide smirk, the female Uzii says, "Good to see you. Not as good to see you as when I look upon you later today, as you lie defeated. But almost!"

"You changed your face. I like it."

Spoiler: A Thorn at our Side

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Originally Posted by Miltonian

Thorn grins. "Well, perhaps I will get to find out what it's like to be thrown through the air, if the strength of Mamut's heroes is enough to lift me." He chuckles, in good humor. "And I'll make sure to not hurt any of them too bad when I come crashing back to the ground."

That is a joke, probably. Thorn is chuckling, but there is a determined gleam in his eyes. He intends to win this tournament!

The Homage is quiet for a moment, and then begins to laugh, "Yes! YES. This is good. Spirit. Courage. Monstrous strength. This is a Champion of the people. I will enjoy watching you compete, Thorn of Towerhome. Though I will enjoy it more, should one of our own manage to beat you. Sword-strike Stoneborn is used to taking on creatures much larger than him. He is secluded until his first match, preferring his own space, but I think he would greatly look forward to facing you, should such a thing come to pass."

Spoiler: Strange Creature Talks with a Yeti

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Originally Posted by SOSDarkPhoenix

The Scrim Annex
Chepri enters rather quietly into the Scrim Annex, awkwardly shuffling herself into a corner to observe the assembled crowd, but she is not alone. By her side stands a colossal beast of a 'man'. A white furred yeti, or Risasno, rarely seen outside of the northwestern mountain valleys of Mamut. The great yeti stands two humans tall and the armour upon his breast shines dazzlingly in the right light. "These Uzii are strong. They will put up good fight." Chepri rolls her eyes. Even with her... 'condition', she hates fighting for sport. "Right.. if you say so. I'll just go find Thorn or my mother and watch you idiots make a bloody mess of each other from on high." She chuckles to herself as she spots her friend, Thorn (sort of hard to miss him!), and heads on over.

After Cherpi steps away, the Risasno finds himself approached by an Uzii in white furs and brown leathers, with crude metal armor pieces hanging across his belly and legs. One eye is scarred from a battle some years ago, but it does not seem to bother the male Uzii in the slightest as he gazes up at the yeti. There is an intelligence to his speech that not many Uzii have, and it is clear from the markings on his cloak that he is a Shaman. "Greetings. I am Far-Reach Mudmore. You came with the Scions. Yet I know of your people not. Who... and what... are you?"

Spoiler: That's an Elf all right...

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Originally Posted by Aventine

Ãzjé frowns and glares at the Homage. "The friend can speak; and knows more about what he has or has not eaten than Tšrãák. I carry the soul of an Uzii, yes, as I carry the souls of many. The bear that makes me strong, the cougar that makes me silent. Some humans, that build their cities and forget what it means to live, and others that had gone rabid. I have seen many strange things outside my home. But do not worry, it is my intention that plans are made so that when I die her soul will be returned to her people. I am not without a sense of propriety, and am honored to serve in this role."

Closed-Fist's face dips a little as he listens to Azje's response. The Homage is seemingly more and more somber as the explanation continues. His eyes are closed, as he answers the elf in a patient voice, "Whatever purpose you feel you have for the souls of our people, you were not being ignored. It was not my intention to belittle you by speaking with your chief. Rather, it was my intention to hear the answer from one leader of a people to another. That you answer for yourself matters not.

I shall try again." Closed-Fist's eyes snap open, and they are entirely on Tšrãák. His words are incredibly deliberate, and his pronunciation is near perfect as he now speaks in a language not his own, "Chief of the Sokau Tribes, Chief of Máklè Phyõ, Héokalón, Wēkache, Sënǎatj Fwëlais, and Džíu Phè Hwǔ. Chief of my Honored Foes who stands before me; I, the Homage of the Uzii Protectorate. I who stands guard for the sake of all my ancestors before me. I who hold the right to question you as the closest thing to an equal we have to each other.

Sọ́gẹ Tšrãák. Did you or any of your many tribe leaders eat of the flesh of an Uzii - one of my beloved people - and do so in revelry? In celebration?"

**SOSDarkPhoenix** · 2020-12-16, 10:38 PM (ISO 8601)

Originally Posted by Gengy

Spoiler: Strange Creature Talks with a Yeti

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After Chepri steps away, the Risasno finds himself approached by an Uzii in white furs and brown leathers, with crude metal armor pieces hanging across his belly and legs. One eye is scarred from a battle some years ago, but it does not seem to bother the male Uzii in the slightest as he gazes up at the yeti. There is an intelligence to his speech that not many Uzii have, and it is clear from the markings on his cloak that he is a Shaman. "Greetings. I am Far-Reach Mudmore. You came with the Scions. Yet I know of your people not. Who... and what... are you?"

The ape-like being remains stood at his full height, looking down at Far-Reach with curiosity as he approaches. Realizing that the Uzii knows just as little of his kind as they do his, he gives an explanation as best he can. "I am Gorrn. They call me Tipen's Might, for when I roar, the blight recoils. And I am a Risasno, one of few that remain within what you call 'Mamut', but we simply know as home. I look forward to testing my mettle against your champions."

**mystic1110** · 2020-12-16, 11:29 PM (ISO 8601)

Entering Rocktusk Territory

The fight is over before it began. After spending so long thinking he was a laughing stock the Old man surprises himself with his capability. Compared to Deep-Sigh, compared to the Huntmaster, Fair-fight was slow and predictable. As he charged low Ces easily leaped over him and crouched like a drunken cat – his style of fighting taken from the Uzii and practiced during his long tenure drowning in wine had bore its way into the memory of his muscles. The Uzii turns around to charge again, but another leap, although this time as he lands he swipes the Uzii’s feat and is immediately upon their throat with his shin. Pressing down and seeing the Uzii begin to choke and lose consciousness Ces lets off and helps Fair-Fight up and congradulates him on a fight well fought. The condition of his entry complete, Ces heads back to his sled and battle toad and rides into Rocktusk territory.

Scrim Annex

With An’Uorg busy with a certain Ko, the various merchants and other notables from the Targiz were left with the task of appointing one of their own to speak with the Homage. Eventually, one of their number stepped up, a mere apprentice, perhaps if only to show their master that they had a real go-getter attitude and should be trusted with more and more accounts – and if her rapport with the Homage was good, why not the Proud-Laugh wine account? Extending her arms in the Golaith greeting, she speaks with the nervous cadence of someone jumping off a cliff.

Homage we are most especially very honored to be here . . um . . very honored, Uzii are very important. Like super important to the Targiz. Very important. Um, travel was good – how was . . . not traveling? Good? I mean, probably very good! Um, did I say we were happy to be here? Very excited!

***

An'Uorg replies to Onyx

I think you would enjoy helping me find someone. He is a low-born criminal from Kursaal, hiding here in Swampum like a leech. I hear that he is thinking of setting himself of as an Odds-Master, the hubris! I think seeking him out among the scum of the swamp and bringing him to justice will prove fun – what do you say?

***

Ces finally arrives at the Scrim Annex. The journey through the swamp proved too much for his polar wardrobe and he now wears what he used to wear when he trained here all those years ago. The thick air brought back many painful memories that looking back were his happiest. He is prepared to make his way to the Arena when he spies his mentor Deep-Sigh Thumpstrong talking with a large Uzii woman. He leaps off his sled and embraces Deep-Sigh without warning.

Old Friend! I’ve missed you. I’m still looking for that damn feather but knew that I couldn’t pass up a chance to get my ass kicked by you again!

**Miltonian** · 2020-12-17, 12:39 AM (ISO 8601)

Originally Posted by Gengy

A Thorn at our Side

The Homage is quiet for a moment, and then begins to laugh, "Yes! YES. This is good. Spirit. Courage. Monstrous strength. This is a Champion of the people. I will enjoy watching you compete, Thorn of Towerhome. Though I will enjoy it more, should one of our own manage to beat you. Sword-strike Stoneborn is used to taking on creatures much larger than him. He is secluded until his first match, preferring his own space, but I think he would greatly look forward to facing you, should such a thing come to pass."

"May such a thing come to pass!" Thorn declares, rising up a little bit from his crouching gait in excitement, "Ah, but whatever the result, I do look forward the fight."

His face becomes a little more serious. "I would ask, however, for a single favor." He unwinds his tail and reveals the end of it, which has the Blade of Arrak-Rah embedded into the end, like a scorpion's stinger. "I am charged to defend this, until such a time as its fate has been determined. I cannot use it in this situation, so I ask that you find a way to bind it. A sheathe of some kind, one it cannot break."

Originally Posted by SOSDarkPhoenix

"Hey Thorn. You going to be participating in the fight today?" she asks, careful to pick a time when Thorn isn't in the middle of a conversation. She sports her usual attire, limited jewelry but a fancy silk dress that seems to never get dirty or ruined no matter how many days she treks through a swamp.

Finished with his conversation now, he turns towards Chepri with a smile. "Ah! If it isn't my dear apprentice! How are you doing on this fine day." He is jovial, happy even, a sight that is becoming more and more common these days. In this respect, he has achieved what very few Ko ever do.

He shifts towards her and speaks in a lower voice. "How have you been doing lately, if I may ask?"

Originally Posted by mystic1110

Scrim Annex

An'Uorg replies to Onyx

I think you would enjoy helping me find someone. He is a low-born criminal from Kursaal, hiding here in Swampum like a leech. I hear that he is thinking of setting himself of as an Odds-Master, the hubris! I think seeking him out among the scum of the swamp and bringing him to justice will prove fun – what do you say?

Onyx considers this, stroking his chin some more. "He won't be able to evade me," he says pompously, "Well, what does he look like, then? Surely not as impressive as you."

The two guards exchange glances, a little unsure about this.

For King and Ko-untry!

Zinnia has a goal in mind. She heard the new king of the Scions would be in attendance, and they have business to discuss. Relations with Haraman were always strong, but time would tell if they would be similarly so with his heir.

Dragging Theris along behind her, and a single other Ko shrouded head to toe in a long hood and cloak, she searches for the new king. Unfortunately, everyone is taller than her. She can hardly see through the crowd.

**SOSDarkPhoenix** · 2020-12-17, 12:55 AM (ISO 8601)

Originally Posted by Miltonian

Finished with his conversation now, he turns towards Chepri with a smile. "Ah! If it isn't my dear apprentice! How are you doing on this fine day." He is jovial, happy even, a sight that is becoming more and more common these days. In this respect, he has achieved what very few Ko ever do.

He shifts towards her and speaks in a lower voice. "How have you been doing lately, if I may ask?"

"I'm alright, just trying to focus on, well, anything other than what's inside my head. Doraan convinced me to come watch the fights as something to that effect, but I'd much rather just enjoy the food and peoplewatch." She giggles, giving Thorn a playful punch. "But for what it matters, I'll be cheering for you, 'oh great champion of the Light'."

Originally Posted by Miltonian

For King and Ko-untry!

Zinnia has a goal in mind. She heard the new king of the Scions would be in attendance, and they have business to discuss. Relations with Haraman were always strong, but time would tell if they would be similarly so with his heir.

Dragging Theris along behind her, and a single other Ko shrouded head to toe in a long hood and cloak, she searches for the new king. Unfortunately, everyone is taller than her. She can hardly see through the crowd.

The Ko 'queen' and her accomplices may not be able to see over the crowd, but they can see the butts of golden spears on either side of the door to the arena grounds where Doraan's wardens are positioned. Weaving through there, they receive an unobstructed view of the Thalaz'ir just making his way inside as he comes face to face with three Kobolds! He looks slightly confused, but not uncomfortable in any way. "Towerlady Zinnia, yes? To what do I owe the pleasure! The young king turns his gaze to Theris, briefly scanning over the third Ko but paying them no heed. "And you must be Theris! My mother speaks highly of you, little one."

**Aventine** · 2020-12-17, 03:38 AM (ISO 8601)

Originally Posted by Gengy

Closed-Fist's face dips a little as he listens to Azje's response. The Homage is seemingly more and more somber as the explanation continues. His eyes are closed, as he answers the elf in a patient voice, "Whatever purpose you feel you have for the souls of our people, you were not being ignored. It was not my intention to belittle you by speaking with your chief. Rather, it was my intention to hear the answer from one leader of a people to another. That you answer for yourself matters not.

I shall try again." Closed-Fist's eyes snap open, and they are entirely on Tšrãák. His words are incredibly deliberate, and his pronunciation is near perfect as he now speaks in a language not his own, "Chief of the Sokau Tribes, Chief of Máklè Phyõ, Héokalón, Wēkache, Sënǎatj Fwëlais, and Džíu Phè Hwǔ. Chief of my Honored Foes who stands before me; I, the Homage of the Uzii Protectorate. I who stands guard for the sake of all my ancestors before me. I who hold the right to question you as the closest thing to an equal we have to each other.

Sọ́gẹ Tšrãák. Did you or any of your many tribe leaders eat of the flesh of an Uzii - one of my beloved people - and do so in revelry? In celebration?"

"I am not his chief; I am his friend. I do not speak for him, and it is a poor host who insults his guests.

"I ate an Uzii. Also what appeared to be humans. They were being eaten, with or without me. If you think that I could have brought them back to life by refusing, then you have a higher opinion of me than I realized. You’ve been in battle, Homage. As have I. How many people have you killed? How many humans? How many Uzii? As many as I have? More? Life goes on. Personally, I consider it a more serious thing to kill someone who had been alive than to eat someone who had already been dead."

**mystic1110** · 2020-12-17, 10:48 AM (ISO 8601)

Scrim Annex

An'Uorg gives a confident grin.

He is an Uzii born in Kursaal. I have a hard time telling them apart but he'll be the one with all the fancy jewels running the joint.

An'Uorg looks thoughtful.

He took some start-up gems from some important people who want it back, so he'll probably be surrounded with some big guards. It'll probably be difficult to even find this gambling den. We'll need someone to distract the guards, someone to run the tables to keep the pit masters busy, some tough guys as well. You and your two friends are perfect - but we might need a bigger crew. Let's look around and see if anyone looks like they're bored enough for some violence.

**Zayuz** · 2020-12-17, 06:27 PM (ISO 8601)

The Medusa and Thalazir Doraan

Merine had arrived well in advance, adjudicating several warmup matches between Uzii swelling with fighting spirit. She had a focused look about her, overseeing the arrival of some others below, but turns to her son with a welcoming smile. The medusa greets him with an embrace, a few of her snakes sneaking light licks with their tongues at his face until she pulls away. “And you too, my dear. I have practiced for a few days now, but never for anything quite so spectacular... You see, all those stories the Alqari soldiers used to give about them being uncivilized were just excuses for bloodshed. They are as capable as our own.”

She glances around them - it was quite an event! “...I don’t mean to preach. It makes me think of the ko-ball tournaments, all this. They were quite exciting... But knowing most of the participants myself is that much more exhilarating. A welcome distraction, really.” Merine meets his gaze with a veiled sadness. With all three of her closest life-long companions in various graves, it was no secret that Merine had been doing poorly - least of all to her son. Lacking in happiness and motivation yet mustering something close enough to it for her roles in public was only standard this year, and her readings in the stars had been similarly grim. She did not seem to have aged like all her company though, or even her daughter and his husband. As with when they first met, her skin lacked wrinkles and her vitality remained fresh... With each passing year her inhumanity became clearer, and it had begun to weigh on her mind.

A summary of Kylisa's recent history and appearance:
Dark of skin and hair, but carrying tell-tale signs of her serpentine heritage in the way of scintillating scales across her body, Kylisa Nahaar-Alqar had an opulent way of life relative to all past Alqari leaders. Keeping mostly human slaves and promoting the expansion of her borders both east and west, was was heralded as 'Warchief' instead of their typical title of 'Chief.' ...This may have also come from her method of obtaining her leadership role, which involved a not-so-covert assassination of Chief Kalm Alqar just before he was about to declare war against the Uzii. She was in her early thirties, decorated in gems made into jewelry across her body that was only loosely covered in her typical white robes. However, much unlike how she used to live (which is to say, decadently), she had begun intense training over the past six years. Having had nightmares of war and assassination that she cannot tell apart from her premonitions, she took up the Sukkomi arts of war to prepare herself. These days she is built with fine muscle from regular combat and acrobatics training, carrying more daggers than she has fingers at her hips such that they jingle with each step, and always on the lookout for poisons and traps. Married to Tsraak of the Sokau, she is thus the wife of their leader and the sister of Scion's new leader Doraan and the sister in law of Rose of the Targiz.

Enlistment

Scrim Annex

Some time after the matter of the Elven eating-habits had been solved between the Sokau and the Uzii, Warchief Kylisa and her close friend Seer Makoa would arrive at the stadium from Alqar to seek the audience of Homage Closed-fist Mudmore. Seer Makoa had never accompanied her friend to any of these grand events before, and seemed quite pleased to be counted among one of many capable, influential people... Pretending not to think that she was only there because her imposing executioner got himself killed warring slavers in Atel'Nora. Trusting the local security to suffice for them was enough for Makoa, but the recently more paranoid Kylisa demanded that some (just two) of her own men accompany them through the Scrim Annex to protect her blind spots.

Seer Makoa is a human woman in her late twenties, with hair dyed a silvery white like Chepri's that she tended to keep tucked back behind her head. Dressed in a fine black and white outfit with a faded red scarf she wore for a hood and a pair of khopesh blades by her sides, she was obliviously admiring the assortment of races when her Warchief spoke up...

"You know, there are a lot of fearsome opponents here. I wonder how my new strategy will stock up against them." Kylisa muses.

"Well, you know what I think of it... It's risky. You'll get hurt if your mind doesn't give you the right hints, or if you aren't quick enough to act on them."

"Safer if I don't partake until I've gotten better at it, sure. But then what? Alqar has nobody representing it...?" Raising an eyebrow and flashing her friend a teasing smile, they continue through towards Mudmore.

"You brought soldiers, I'm sure that they..." Seeing a pair of glares short her way, Makoa abandons that train of thought. "Er, nevermind. Still, could've brought someone."

"...Hm. Didn't I bring someone? I thought that maybe we could both participate."

Makoa hesitates for a moment and narrows her eyes, her mouth laid agape in surprise. "...You can't be serious. Me? To duel all of these people? I haven't got a chance even if half of them tripped and fell on their swords."

"Oh come on, half an hour ago you were saying you'd kick their asses. Don't want to have another tussle with Thorn?" She chuckles.

Rolling her eyes, Makoa relents. "F-fine, at least we'll lose this thing together. Less embarrassing than doing it alone."

"That's the spirit. You're more capable than you know, Maki."

Arriving at their target, the current leader of the Uzii, Warchief Kylisa offers a slight bow in respect while Seer Makoa stands back with her arms crossed. "Greetings from Alqar, Protector of Mamut. I am Warchief Kylisa Nahaar-Alqar, and this is my friend, Seer Makoa. We've come to enlist in your tournament, and fight for the glory of our lands."

**Miltonian** · 2020-12-17, 08:11 PM (ISO 8601)

Originally Posted by SOSDarkPhoenix

"I'm alright, just trying to focus on, well, anything other than what's inside my head. Doraan convinced me to come watch the fights as something to that effect, but I'd much rather just enjoy the food and peoplewatch." She giggles, giving Thorn a playful punch. "But for what it matters, I'll be cheering for you, 'oh great champion of the Light'."

Thorn harrumphs, mildly embarrassed. "Yes, well...I'll listen for you then," he says, "I hope to do well. There are many of Mamut's strongest here. I hear your sister, even, will be in attendance." There is a slight pause before he adds. "And her husband. I hope he did not do anything foolish that will upset our hosts. It would be best for this gathering to remain, if not peaceful, jovial."

The Ko 'queen' and her accomplices may not be able to see over the crowd, but they can see the butts of golden spears on either side of the door to the arena grounds where Doraan's wardens are positioned. Weaving through there, they receive an unobstructed view of the Thalaz'ir just making his way inside as he comes face to face with three Kobolds! He looks slightly confused, but not uncomfortable in any way. "Towerlady Zinnia, yes? To what do I owe the pleasure! The young king turns his gaze to Theris, briefly scanning over the third Ko but paying them no heed. "And you must be Theris! My mother speaks highly of you, little one."

Zinnia turns sharply and looks up. "Ah! King Doraan," she says, using the trade-term for ruler, "There you are. I have actually been searching for you."

Theris sweeps off her hat and bows dramatically. "You have indeed found the Great and Magical Theris." She rises and fixes her hat back in its place. With a smirk, she says, "Do try to contain yourself. My adoring fans can be so tiresome these days."

Originally Posted by mystic1110

Scrim Annex

An'Uorg gives a confident grin.

He is an Uzii born in Kursaal. I have a hard time telling them apart but he'll be the one with all the fancy jewels running the joint.

An'Uorg looks thoughtful.

He took some start-up gems from some important people who want it back, so he'll probably be surrounded with some big guards. It'll probably be difficult to even find this gambling den. We'll need someone to distract the guards, someone to run the tables to keep the pit masters busy, some tough guys as well. You and your two friends are perfect - but we might need a bigger crew. Let's look around and see if anyone looks like they're bored enough for some violence.

Onyx nods. "Welll...I would ask Thorn, but he's on this whole 'morality' and 'righteousness' kick right now. I'm sure it won't last long, but it is so aggravating when he goes off on some lecture or the other."

He glances around, perusing the available recruits. "Well, I assure you, these two can be quite distracting--" His two guards blush. "--But did you have anyone specific in mind or shall we just grab the nearest Uzii by the tusks?"

**mystic1110** · 2020-12-17, 08:23 PM (ISO 8601)

Scrim Annex

An'Uorg nods and looks around looking the crowd over.

Hmm, why don't we go speak with that . . . thing over there. (he points at the Yeti) He looks like he could be good muscle.

Walking over to the Yeti and Far-Reach. He extends his hands to his side in the Targizian fashion.

How are you gentlemen doing? You look like you could use a diversion. My friends and I he motions to Onyx and his companions There is someone from Kursaal we are searching for and are wondering if you could help us find him and he smiles bring him down. Should be dangerous and fun

**SOSDarkPhoenix** · 2020-12-18, 07:17 AM (ISO 8601)

Spoiler: Chepri and the Dragon

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Originally Posted by Miltonian

Thorn harrumphs, mildly embarrassed. "Yes, well...I'll listen for you then," he says, "I hope to do well. There are many of Mamut's strongest here. I hear your sister, even, will be in attendance." There is a slight pause before he adds. "And her husband. I hope he did not do anything foolish that will upset our hosts. It would be best for this gathering to remain, if not peaceful, jovial."

Chepri listens closely to Thorn and nods."I'll talk to my sister a bit later. Knowing her, she's going to be competing in the fights herself, the psycho." Chepri smirks. "And don't sell yourself short. You're tougher than a lot of the people here. Not to mention, you're absolutely huge."

Spoiler: Doraan and the Three Ko-sketeers

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Originally Posted by Miltonian

Zinnia turns sharply and looks up. "Ah! King Doraan," she says, using the trade-term for ruler, "There you are. I have actually been searching for you."

Theris sweeps off her hat and bows dramatically. "You have indeed found the Great and Magical Theris." She rises and fixes her hat back in its place. With a smirk, she says, "Do try to contain yourself. My adoring fans can be so tiresome these days."

"Oh? Looking for me, hm? Well, do tell me how I may be of service. Oh, and, yes Theris, it is indeed hard not to stare at one so.. 'majestic'." Doraan gives Theris a small wink, aiming to fluster her a bit as he focuses his gaze back on Zinnia and listens.

Spoiler: The Medusa and Thalaz'ir Doraan

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Originally Posted by Zayuz

The Medusa and Thalazir Doraan

Merine had arrived well in advance, adjudicating several warmup matches between Uzii swelling with fighting spirit. She had a focused look about her, overseeing the arrival of some others below, but turns to her son with a welcoming smile. The medusa greets him with an embrace, a few of her snakes sneaking light licks with their tongues at his face until she pulls away. “And you too, my dear. I have practiced for a few days now, but never for anything quite so spectacular... You see, all those stories the Alqari soldiers used to give about them being uncivilized were just excuses for bloodshed. They are as capable as our own.”

She glances around them - it was quite an event! “...I don’t mean to preach. It makes me think of the ko-ball tournaments, all this. They were quite exciting... But knowing most of the participants myself is that much more exhilarating. A welcome distraction, really.” Merine meets his gaze with a veiled sadness. With all three of her closest life-long companions in various graves, it was no secret that Merine had been doing poorly - least of all to her son. Lacking in happiness and motivation yet mustering something close enough to it for her roles in public was only standard this year, and her readings in the stars had been similarly grim. She did not seem to have aged like all her company though, or even her daughter and his husband. As with when they first met, her skin lacked wrinkles and her vitality remained fresh... With each passing year her inhumanity became clearer, and it had begun to weigh on her mind.

"You've always striven to represent yourself and your people well, mother. Your wisdom and beauty shines like the three lights themselves, and you've worked harder than any of us to keep peace. If anyone deserves a distraction, it's you." The young king leans back into a small side embrace with his mother, reassuring her of his support even at her low moments. "Is there anything you need, or I can do for you?"

**Gengy** · 2020-12-18, 12:02 PM (ISO 8601)

Spoiler: Strange Creature Talks with a Yeti

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Originally Posted by SOSDarkPhoenix

The ape-like being remains stood at his full height, looking down at Far-Reach with curiosity as he approaches. Realizing that the Uzii knows just as little of his kind as they do his, he gives an explanation as best he can. "I am Gorrn. They call me Tipen's Might, for when I roar, the blight recoils. And I am a Risasno, one of few that remain within what you call 'Mamut', but we simply know as home. I look forward to testing my mettle against your champions."

"Risasno..." Far-Reach repeated the word, as though testing it out. Or perhaps committing it to memory. "I see. Well, welcome, Gorrn of the Risasno. We are pleased to have you here. Our own champions will likely enjoy the idea of battling with someone of your strength and stature! Are you not... overly warm here in our swamp, though?"

Spoiler: A Not So Dishonored Hero

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Originally Posted by mystic1110

Entering Rocktusk Territory

The fight is over before it began. After spending so long thinking he was a laughing stock the Old man surprises himself with his capability. Compared to Deep-Sigh, compared to the Huntmaster, Fair-fight was slow and predictable. As he charged low Ces easily leaped over him and crouched like a drunken cat – his style of fighting taken from the Uzii and practiced during his long tenure drowning in wine had bore its way into the memory of his muscles. The Uzii turns around to charge again, but another leap, although this time as he lands he swipes the Uzii’s feat and is immediately upon their throat with his shin. Pressing down and seeing the Uzii begin to choke and lose consciousness Ces lets off and helps Fair-Fight up and congradulates him on a fight well fought. The condition of his entry complete, Ces heads back to his sled and battle toad and rides into Rocktusk territory.

***

Ces finally arrives at the Scrim Annex. The journey through the swamp proved too much for his polar wardrobe and he now wears what he used to wear when he trained here all those years ago. The thick air brought back many painful memories that looking back were his happiest. He is prepared to make his way to the Arena when he spies his mentor Deep-Sigh Thumpstrong talking with a large Uzii woman. He leaps off his sled and embraces Deep-Sigh without warning.

Old Friend! I’ve missed you. I’m still looking for that damn feather but knew that I couldn’t pass up a chance to get my ass kicked by you again!

The older Uzii lets out a deep sigh, much like his namesake, as he looks up at the female Uzii near him, "Forgive me, Coarse-pond. It seems an old student still does not have manners, or he wouldn't interrupt a conversation."

Belying the truth of his words, the old Shaman hugged Ces back, and gazed upon him with a grin, "Ces. You old fool. Good to see you are not dead. I'm afraid that my days of kicking your posterior from one end of the swamp to the other are long over."

Released from the hug, it's clear that Deep-Sigh Thumpstrong is leaning more heavily on his staff these days. His fur and hair is more white than before. "I can perhaps muster the strength though... if I see you even think about touching the wine. Clear mind. Clear body. Clear victory."

"...or clear out of here." The aging Uzii gave the human hero a hard look, before it returned to something far fonder, "From what my old eyes see, though, you're doing well. You're still ugly, but at least you smell better than last time."

The large female Uzii, Coarse-pond, looked confused as she wrinkled her nose and asked, "This is smelling... better?"

"Oh yes. Humans seem to have a blessed ignorance for how they smell. Try not to call them out on it, unless you are friends with them, Coarse-pond. But honestly, when it comes to Ces, do not be fooled. He may look and smell like he's been dragged through the mud, but that's an improvement over what he was actually dragged through last time he and I had to have a... difficult conversation. And he is a better person for it. How do you feel, Ces? Like you can toss a Scrim? Tackle a Ko terror? Take down a Battle Mother? Or are you just here to try?"

Spoiler: A Thorn At Our Side

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Originally Posted by Miltonian

"May such a thing come to pass!" Thorn declares, rising up a little bit from his crouching gait in excitement, "Ah, but whatever the result, I do look forward the fight."

His face becomes a little more serious. "I would ask, however, for a single favor." He unwinds his tail and reveals the end of it, which has the Blade of Arrak-Rah embedded into the end, like a scorpion's stinger. "I am charged to defend this, until such a time as its fate has been determined. I cannot use it in this situation, so I ask that you find a way to bind it. A sheathe of some kind, one it cannot break."

A few guards nearby shift uncomfortably at the sight of the Ko abomination branding a blade so near their leader, but Homage Closed-Fist looks at the weapon before him, unafraid. "This... is an awful responsibility you are giving to me."

"For the safety of the other participants, I am honor bound to accept your request, but... this blade. I have heard the stories. It is cursed. Pain-Drop Redmoon would see it cleansed or destroyed, if she could. And you are just... giving it to me to find a way to sheathe it." Closed-fist shook his head slowly, deep in thought. "I don't have a way to bind this myself. Strong of arm, strong of word, and strong of deed; those things I can handle. This is... more something that one of our Shaman would have to handle."

"Deep-Sigh!" Raising his voice, the Homage calls over an older, wiser looking, Uzii; hairs beginning to turn white.

Upon seeing the Blade of Arrak-Rah, the Shaman Tusker glares at Thorn, "You brought it here? No, no, of course you did. You wouldn't want it to leave your sights."

"He wants to bind it; a sheathe of some kind." Closed-Fist explained.

"Respectable. We have no... binding, but... leather treated in the waters of the Ancestral Baths, perhaps? Yes. Strong spirits worked within the soul of the sheathe. I'd like to think that would hold back whatever foul qualities might be within the blade itself, but alas. I am being told that such a thing would only work for a few days, at best." The Shaman Tusker grumbles a bit, but does plop down on the floor, and pull a bit of leather from the pouch at his side, and eyeballs the weapon while he proceeds to sew a sheathe right in front of Thorn.

"It'll have to do," the Homage says. "Thank you, Thorn. You did not have to reveal that you had this with you, but it was the right thing to do. We will see it's magics held back for at least the few duels. Though I do wish the Ko would let us try to cleanse it."

Spoiler: Alqar Warchief and the Homage

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Originally Posted by Zayuz

Enlistment

Scrim Annex

Some time after the matter of the Elven eating-habits had been solved between the Sokau and the Uzii, Warchief Kylisa and her close friend Seer Makoa would arrive at the stadium from Alqar to seek the audience of Homage Closed-fist Mudmore. Seer Makoa had never accompanied her friend to any of these grand events before, and seemed quite pleased to be counted among one of many capable, influential people... Pretending not to think that she was only there because her imposing executioner got himself killed warring slavers in Atel'Nora. Trusting the local security to suffice for them was enough for Makoa, but the recently more paranoid Kylisa demanded that some (just two) of her own men accompany them through the Scrim Annex to protect her blind spots.

Seer Makoa is a human woman in her late twenties, with hair dyed a silvery white like Chepri's that she tended to keep tucked back behind her head. Dressed in a fine black and white outfit with a faded red scarf she wore for a hood and a pair of khopesh blades by her sides, she was obliviously admiring the assortment of races when her Warchief spoke up...

"You know, there are a lot of fearsome opponents here. I wonder how my new strategy will stock up against them." Kylisa muses.

"Well, you know what I think of it... It's risky. You'll get hurt if your mind doesn't give you the right hints, or if you aren't quick enough to act on them."

"Safer if I don't partake until I've gotten better at it, sure. But then what? Alqar has nobody representing it...?" Raising an eyebrow and flashing her friend a teasing smile, they continue through towards Mudmore.

"You brought soldiers, I'm sure that they..." Seeing a pair of glares short her way, Makoa abandons that train of thought. "Er, nevermind. Still, could've brought someone."

"...Hm. Didn't I bring someone? I thought that maybe we could both participate."

Makoa hesitates for a moment and narrows her eyes, her mouth laid agape in surprise. "...You can't be serious. Me? To duel all of these people? I haven't got a chance even if half of them tripped and fell on their swords."

"Oh come on, half an hour ago you were saying you'd kick their asses. Don't want to have another tussle with Thorn?" She chuckles.

Rolling her eyes, Makoa relents. "F-fine, at least we'll lose this thing together. Less embarrassing than doing it alone."

"That's the spirit. You're more capable than you know, Maki."

Arriving at their target, the current leader of the Uzii, Warchief Kylisa offers a slight bow in respect while Seer Makoa stands back with her arms crossed. "Greetings from Alqar, Protector of Mamut. I am Warchief Kylisa Nahaar-Alqar, and this is my friend, Seer Makoa. We've come to enlist in your tournament, and fight for the glory of our lands."

The well armored Homage looks upon the Warchief for the first time, and see her for what she is: A human girl, with a lot of responsibilities on her shoulders. There is that bit of Merine in her that Closed-Fist recognizes, and for that reason, the Uzii leader keeps his look to a mild glare, "You have come to fight? Yourself?"

"It is good that you would stand up and do so. I see no problems with this, but Lady Merine will not judge your battles. We'll get an assistant to do so. One of the Sentinels should be neutral enough for everyone."

"First though, Warchief, I must speak with you." Closed-Fist stands tall, and almost manages to be at the same eye level as the human leader. "Homage to Alqar leader. Your Seer may attend you, but know that I am wroth with you. Can you guess why?"

Spoiler: The Homage and the Targiz Delegation

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Originally Posted by mystic1110

Scrim Annex

With An’Uorg busy with a certain Ko, the various merchants and other notables from the Targiz were left with the task of appointing one of their own to speak with the Homage. Eventually, one of their number stepped up, a mere apprentice, perhaps if only to show their master that they had a real go-getter attitude and should be trusted with more and more accounts – and if her rapport with the Homage was good, why not the Proud-Laugh wine account? Extending her arms in the Golaith greeting, she speaks with the nervous cadence of someone jumping off a cliff.

Homage we are most especially very honored to be here . . um . . very honored, Uzii are very important. Like super important to the Targiz. Very important. Um, travel was good – how was . . . not traveling? Good? I mean, probably very good! Um, did I say we were happy to be here? Very excited!

The Homage grins at the nervousness of one of his more taller guests. "I still had to travel from Mudmore to here, and it was as relaxing as any day in Swampum; which is to say, not very. We had to fight a Bloat Toad on the way here. Thankfully, we were hungry anyways, so it all worked out. I am quite pleased to see the Targiz here, though! It gives me a chance to ask you to pass along a message for me."

"Please tell your Odds-Mistress: The Uzii will tolerate her games, but she is placing bets she cannot cover if she thinks we won't exact our price from the Crimson Kingdom. We remain friendly. But expect a protest. I look forward to the game between the Big Strongs and the Hemlocks." Ominous message delivered, the leader of the Protectorate swivels from intimidating to jovial at the drop of a helmet. "Please, though, do enjoy today's events. Let me know if there is anything I can do for our friends. Perhaps some of you have younglings that need feeding on good food?"

Spoiler: Getting the Crew Together

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Originally Posted by mystic1110

An'Uorg nods and looks around looking the crowd over.

Hmm, why don't we go speak with that . . . thing over there. (he points at the Yeti) He looks like he could be good muscle.

Walking over to the Yeti and Far-Reach. He extends his hands to his side in the Targizian fashion.

How are you gentlemen doing? You look like you could use a diversion. My friends and I he motions to Onyx and his companions There is someone from Kursaal we are searching for and are wondering if you could help us find him and he smiles bring him down. Should be dangerous and fun

"Here? In Swampum? I have not heard of this." Far-Reach seems perplexed, and look over at his new acquaintance from the north. "Gorrn. May I show you around Swampum? I suddenly have a desperate desire to go looking for a diversion. And I could introduce you to my lovely wife."

Spoiler: Talking Leader to Leader

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Originally Posted by Aventine

"I am not his chief; I am his friend. I do not speak for him, and it is a poor host who insults his guests.

"I ate an Uzii. Also what appeared to be humans. They were being eaten, with or without me. If you think that I could have brought them back to life by refusing, then you have a higher opinion of me than I realized. You’ve been in battle, Homage. As have I. How many people have you killed? How many humans? How many Uzii? As many as I have? More? Life goes on. Personally, I consider it a more serious thing to kill someone who had been alive than to eat someone who had already been dead."

Homage Closed-Fist struggles to make sense of what the Sokau leader is telling him, but keeps his voice level and calm, "It is true. The dead do not rise again, not to come back the same. So the living must rise on their behalf, when injustice is revealed. Living must rise to do the right thing, instead of laugh and jest at the misfortune of the dead. The living must show the dead the respect they deserve, for the dead are our Ancestors.

"I have been in battle. I fought against foes who could fight back. I rose up against what I viewed as wrong. I have used both my words and my spear, when the time is right. For now, that time is still with words. And I say that... you are correct, it is a poor host that insults his guests."

Eyes open, the Homage turns to the Elf in the room, "I know not the ways of your people. If you took offense from me trying to speak with the one I viewed as the leader of my Honored Foes, then accept my apologies. But understand: You know not the ways of my people either. To consume a soul? To hold on to it, only to return it when you die?"

"How will you do this, when you have only a piece of her soul? Will you go to the Hraban, and find her other half? Something no Uzii or Hraban has been able to do? Should you actually succeed: Will you then eat one of our feathered cousins too, so that you have the whole of the soul inside yourself? Or will you insist that they eat of your body, by way of apology for your robbery of their chance to meet with the one who was destined to mingle with them in the Hereafter?!"

Turning back to Sọ́gẹ Tšrãák, the Uzii leader continued, tears in his eyes, as he returned his voice to a more neutral tone, "It is a poor guest that insults their host. That you admit to eating of one of my people, rather than rising up to the injustice, saddens me greatly. Will you twist the spear, and continue to say you did it with pride, because she was already dead? Or will you at least have the dignity to offer apologies for the loss of one of ours? I will not, and shall not, raise my fist in anger this day. I have already spoken the words. You are guests. We do look forward to seeing you and yours in this, the Duel of Champions."

Openly weeping now, Homage Closed-Fist stared with conflicting feelings of sadness and anger in his eyes, "But do not think that we will just forgive insults, just because the one you insulted was already dead. Your elven friend then, by his own admission, consumed her soul, and prevented her from any semblance of honor in death!"

His voice once again rising high in indignation, Closed-Fist finds it easy to bring it down to a whisper, like a Toad suddenly deflating.

"Ãzjé, if you want to hunt, there are Bloat Toads and Swamp Cats who will be happy to give you challenge, just outside the patrols of guards keeping them away. As for you, Sọ́gẹ Tšrãák... I wish you good luck in the tournament," The Homage wipes away his tears, "But choose your next words carefully. Or just... leave from my sight, if rising to tell your host that something is wrong is too much for you."

**mystic1110** · 2020-12-18, 12:56 PM (ISO 8601)

Scrim Annex

Ces looks a Deep-Sigh sheepishly.

My bones are old too. I have more white hair in my beard than you have in your fur at this point. But I will enter and I will try

Now looking at the woman his master was courting.

Apologies Ma'am, I owe a lot to Deep-Sigh and didn't mean to interrupt. I apologize for the smell, I just came back from the ice wall searching for the Storm Bird. Months alone among the snow and darkness, hygiene falls behind basic survival, but Deep-Sigh speaks truly. This is still a lot better when he found me in a pool of actual crap!

Ces laughs now, whereas before he either wouldn't or would have in lunacy. This laughter is warm and deep. It is laughter colored by appreciation.

***

The apprentice looks extremely nervous. Pass along a message to the Odds-Mistress herself?

Um. . . sure. I'll . . . figure out how to get that message to her.

Even her master didn't talk to the Odds-Mistress herself. He would have to talk to his guild captain who would probably go to one of the Casino Pit-Bosses or the head of the guild itself, who . . . did they meet in committee? She didn't remember, but anyway that committee probably had to speak to a priest or something that would relay the message to the Odds-Mistress. Although she guessed that if she heard that the apprentice spoke to the Homage himself perhaps she could skip a few steps. And that must be good for her career right? Talking to the person in charge at such a young age.

I'll definitely tell her! And I'm sure we would love good food and a Ko-ball match! Would love it! Sounds great!

The hidden messages lost on the apprentice, but not lost on the older and wiser merchants who nodded with weighted heads.

**Zayuz** · 2020-12-18, 05:36 PM (ISO 8601)

Originally Posted by Gengy

The well armored Homage looks upon the Warchief for the first time, and see her for what she is: A human girl, with a lot of responsibilities on her shoulders. There is that bit of Merine in her that Closed-Fist recognizes, and for that reason, the Uzii leader keeps his look to a mild glare, "You have come to fight? Yourself?"

"It is good that you would stand up and do so. I see no problems with this, but Lady Merine will not judge your battles. We'll get an assistant to do so. One of the Sentinels should be neutral enough for everyone."

"First though, Warchief, I must speak with you." Closed-Fist stands tall, and almost manages to be at the same eye level as the human leader. "Homage to Alqar leader. Your Seer may attend you, but know that I am wroth with you. Can you guess why?"

Kylisa nods with some confidence at the confirmation as well as the assessment of judges, she would have requested the same. But at this notion of there being trouble between them, she glances around her to check for threats before narrowing her eyes at him. "No... I stopped my predecessor from warring with your people and respected your borders since I became warchief. What have I done to earn your ire?" ...Precognition, it seemed, was hardly all powerful. Seer Makoa pips up behind her leader, asking "Is it the stuff with the Crimson Kingdom? I was surprised when they didn't cause more trouble in our lands. For someone so concerned with safety, that was very reckless."

"But it worked, and now we own Atel'Nora. Please, Makoa, don't question my decisions in front of other leaders." The seer relents with a shrug of her shoulders.

Originally Posted by SOSDarkPhoenix

"You've always striven to represent yourself and your people well, mother. Your wisdom and beauty shines like the three lights themselves, and you've worked harder than any of us to keep peace. If anyone deserves a distraction, it's you." The young king leans back into a small side embrace with his mother, reassuring her of his support even at her low moments. "Is there anything you need, or I can do for you?"

Merine quietly accepts his compliments, making a little 'awh' and nodding. "Thank you, it hasn't been easy. Would that there was anything to help, I would ask... But for now? Maybe if we had dinner together and enjoyed the atmosphere, that would be best. I've been a little lonely, which is mostly my fault for refusing invitations... I just haven't felt like I have much to contribute. Sorry I missed the picnic, and the last few meetings." Curious, that statement, considering she wasn't actually invited to the picnic. They overlook some humans practicing their combat from above on a balcony, which her tired eyes follow closely.

**mystic1110** · 2020-12-18, 06:04 PM (ISO 8601)

How do you get to Cook-Slab?

As Onyx, An’Uorg, Far-Reach, Gorrn, and the ladies were getting together, perhaps it is best to pull back and see what they were trying to pull off.

Cook-Slab’s gambling den was well hidden – it was not that gambling was illegal, but its exclusivity was part of its appeal. Uzii loved a challenge. As with all stadiums a makeshift town had emerged around them. One of the thatch huts among many looked just like the others and yet the careful observer would see Uzii with scars and missing fur standing outside the door letting some people through and turning others away. Nothing else marked the den from its neighbors. (TN 14 to find the Gambling Den).

The bouncers were some tough customers – they were Leavehomes as well who were working for their cousin. Life was not easy for them, many of the other Uzii made fun of their clan for wanting to leave Swampum, and they carried that chip on their shoulder very obviously. They delighted in beating up debtors and turning away people who used to make fun of them without some bribes. (TN 10 to get past the Bouncers).

Inside, the Gambling Den was set up much like the casinos back in Kursaal, although much cruder. Instead of green-painted tables, it seemed that Cook-Slab placed green moss on some pieces of wood and called it a day. Wine from the Targiz was plentiful but it was not the best and the clientele were definitely more prone to breaking the table than back home, so perhaps the lack of effort was actually smart. The tables were watched by a series of Pit-Bosses who wore what seemed to be vests around their bodies, signifying their position. The gambling den had a door that was being guarded by a lot of guards – Cook-Slab being paranoid (rightfully) of his safety.

To get past the guards one will have to beat the odds and win at Kursaal Dice two times in a row! However, it is well known that cheating, at least here in the gambling Den, happens all the time – through either sleight of hand, intimidation, or just plain bribery. (Each “Cheat” allows the cheater to change one of their dice results to another of their choice – TN 8 to cheat). Additionally, a Large Uzii woman is the unquestioned leader of the Guards and patrols the Casino predatorily. A brave soul will have to woo her or distract her in another way (Flirting with the Femme Fatal is a TN 10, but will also involve a sexual preference roll!).

Once some guards are pulled away the remaining guards are simple to get through (TN 10) and through the door is Cook-Slabs office where him and some trusted family members are busy counting their winnings. Cook-Slab will fight tusk and nail before being dragged back to Kursaal (Cook-Slab and his Guards collectively duel with 2d6+4! Additionally, if anyone wants to take the opportunity to steal from the house it is a TN 8 roll!)

It all sounds easy when it’s put like that!

(Any player can assist (+1) another in any roll in this mini game with a TN 8 assist roll.

Players roll with any relevant attribute with half their ruler’s score rounded up)

**Silent_Interim** · 2020-12-18, 09:53 PM (ISO 8601)

Originally Posted by Gengy

Spoiler: The Homage and the Ambassador

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"Fear not, Ambassador," The Homage grins, "Because if you ask for it, the Uzii will be happy to lend you a light. Be it just to shine in the darkness, or wave it in the face of whatever shadows have cast such a pallor upon you. We can be a spark, or a blaze, if it means keeping Mamut and all of her peoples safe."

"I admit," The Homage says, seeming to think of some other troubles, "We cannot be everywhere. I always wish I could do more. Things just go... so wrong... sometimes. And that is why we must stay strong. For ourselves, our families, and our friends. And though I cannot call the Scrim allies, for that is not the Uzii way... I am happy to call them friends."

With a sly look upon his face to show that he is joking, Closed-Fist mutters, "...someone has to be more rock-headed then my warriors. Though... it is a close thing, sometimes."

The ambassador chuckles at the joke, but the sound is clearly forced. "You are a good leader, Homage. The Uzii are fortunate to have someone not merely strong, but wise as well. We had such grand expectations of Nithor. They have met them in the worst ways possible. I had hoped that Tradespeaker Lejah would prove some kind of counterbalance to whatever madness has overtaken the Thunspeaker as of late, but it seems that the two are no longer as close as they once were. And if the Tradespeaker is not coming here on the return from Targiz, I suspect they may not be coming back at all."

Loje stops, and shakes their head. "It is not a day for thoughts like these. We will have many opportunities to speak in coming days, Homage. You know full well my home is always open. This is a joyous occasion, and I should not let my melancholy change that.

Originally Posted by Gengy

Spoiler: Two Friends, Two Heroes

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Pain-Drop is a massive female Uzii, and is busy lifting stones in the forest; close enough that she can see the people milling about on the outskirts of the Arena, but not close enough that she has a... large... audience. Still, the stones she is lifting and tossing seem to be hefty, and they make loud THUMPS when they hit the ground. There are several wide eyed whelps and even a few older Uzii (male and female!) who are quietly looking on from spots in the nearby gnarled trees. The Battle Mother snarls a bit as one of them gasps when she hurls two stones at once, each easily weighing as much as an Uzii male in their prime.

Silence returns to the clearing as she goes to retrieve the stones, and when she hears someone call her name, she rolls her eyes and prepares to yell at them for breaking her concentration. Only to find that instead of a growl on her lips, she finds a smile instead.

"Tior." The stone Pain-Drop has picked up is tossed over her shoulder without a thought. It makes a THUMP as the large female Uzii charges straight for the large Scrim, her arms open wide. Many of the nearby Uzii think they are in for a preview of the matches; indeed, Tior finds himself lifted off the ground, all be it briefly.

But warmly as well. Or as warm as a Scrim might feel. Pain-Drop has wrapped her friend in a massive hug before letting him go again. Her mouth split into a wide smirk, the female Uzii says, "Good to see you. Not as good to see you as when I look upon you later today, as you lie defeated. But almost!"

"You changed your face. I like it."

Tior returns the hug tightly, and with a grinding laugh. "We will see! It will be a good fight, no doubt!"

Almost self-consciously, Tior raises a hand gingerly to their "face". "Good, yes? Striking. Other Scrim warriors, they carve their faces to frighten. I think this is better. Tells enemies, 'I do not need to frighten you. You are nothing, like my face'." They laugh again, with a strange high note permeating the sound.

**Torv** · 2020-12-19, 06:59 AM (ISO 8601)

Spoiler: Traveling

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Water, more water, still water, water everywhere. At least there where stars in the sky, probably only a matter of time before they became water too. All sense of direction was long lost, Londkannuaur had set out east from Glaondi Yejon, only to be swept up in a storm like no other. Since then he had drifted, drifted a bit further and drifted some more.

Londkannuaur was a shell of his former self, not that there had been much to begin with. Mottled grey skin stretched over protruding bones, the large ears drooped down and his orange eyes glimmered weakly in the dark.
Then on the horizon, an island! He waited and turned around again, still there. Grabbing the remaining oar he begun making his way towards shore in the now single canoe, the rest broken apart by the storm.

The island continued to grow, until it was larger than anything he had seen before, and the trees, trees everywhere, reaching closer to the sky than anything at home. Split by a thin band of water it technically wasn’t one giant but two huge islands. Despite his hunger curiosity got the better of him and he decided to try and paddle around it.

After paddling between the two islands for a short while, or a few days Londkannuaur glimpsed other boats far away. Having had varying luck when meeting other islanders, he quickly changed course to the shore, away from the boats. Reaching it as daylight broke, time seemed to flow at an odd pace these days.

As night fell he sneaked in the foreign boats direction, hiding under rotating roots. Hearing a large splash to his behind him he twisted his neck and saw a giant toad. Having caught giant fish and birds and fought large fur monsters during his previous explorations a toad wouldn’t stop him now.
Getting a running start he spun around and kicked the beast with nails, which were akin to claws after a long time of neglect. Following up with a punch, an audible crack came from his wrist. In response the beast extended an endless tongue and snagged a large fly from the air. Running. Running was also good.

Scrambling on all fours between roots and over murky water Londkannuaur is awake for the first time in weeks, after being lost at the sea. A bloat toad on his heels, he’s fully focused on keeping his balance. Thus unaware he quickly scampers towards creatures with green plates on their chests, unsure if the giant toad is still following him.

**Gengy** · 2020-12-19, 11:21 AM (ISO 8601)

Spoiler: A Not So Dishonored Hero

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Originally Posted by mystic1110

Scrim Annex

Ces looks a Deep-Sigh sheepishly.

My bones are old too. I have more white hair in my beard than you have in your fur at this point. But I will enter and I will try

Now looking at the woman his master was courting.

Apologies Ma'am, I owe a lot to Deep-Sigh and didn't mean to interrupt. I apologize for the smell, I just came back from the ice wall searching for the Storm Bird. Months alone among the snow and darkness, hygiene falls behind basic survival, but Deep-Sigh speaks truly. This is still a lot better when he found me in a pool of actual crap!

Ces laughs now, whereas before he either wouldn't or would have in lunacy. This laughter is warm and deep. It is laughter colored by appreciation.

"Hmmph. Do it or don't. Just trying only gets you to the start." Deep-Sigh slowly lets a grin grow on his serious snout, "But if you don't bathe before hand, I suppose the stench will cause a few of them to stumble. Good strategy."

"You two are adorable. When's the wedding?" Coarse-pond asked, causing Deep-Sigh to sputter and stare.

"No, no, no. I keep telling you, Coarse-pond, I need a lovely lady like yourself from your family in the south. I've only a few years left on me, so she wouldn't have to suffer me for very long."

Coarse-pond chuckled, "I have a lady or two in mind. They may not even see it as suffering, with a strong Tusker like you as their mate."

Deep-Sigh smiled, and looked at Ces proudly, likely about to say something snarky. Except Coarse-pond beat him to it, "That is, if your student does well today."

Fire and life seemed to jump back into Deep-Sigh's eyes, and he stood a little straighter, grasping his staff more firmly, "Oh, is that so? Well. Ces "Mask-Punch" Arnif is an honorary Uzii warrior, and I'm sure he wouldn't fail his friend and teacher in helping him with his life long dream of finding a good mate, would you Ces?"

Spoiler: The Homage and the Targiz Delegation

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Originally Posted by mystic1110

The apprentice looks extremely nervous. Pass along a message to the Odds-Mistress herself?

Um. . . sure. I'll . . . figure out how to get that message to her.

Even her master didn't talk to the Odds-Mistress herself. He would have to talk to his guild captain who would probably go to one of the Casino Pit-Bosses or the head of the guild itself, who . . . did they meet in committee? She didn't remember, but anyway that committee probably had to speak to a priest or something that would relay the message to the Odds-Mistress. Although she guessed that if she heard that the apprentice spoke to the Homage himself perhaps she could skip a few steps. And that must be good for her career right? Talking to the person in charge at such a young age.

I'll definitely tell her! And I'm sure we would love good food and a Ko-ball match! Would love it! Sounds great!

The hidden messages lost on the apprentice, but not lost on the older and wiser merchants who nodded with weighted heads.

Beaming at the large Goliath girl, the Homage begins to recognize that she stepped forward when no one else would. A good trait in a leader, but she is obviously still young. Best to let her grow a bit. "Good. The Food Hall will be a great place for fine dining. I recommend you go there before the duels begin!"

Nodding more seriously at the older merchants, Closed-Fist politely waved the Goliaths away.

Spoiler: The Homage and the Warchief

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Originally Posted by Zayuz

Kylisa nods with some confidence at the confirmation as well as the assessment of judges, she would have requested the same. But at this notion of there being trouble between them, she glances around her to check for threats before narrowing her eyes at him. "No... I stopped my predecessor from warring with your people and respected your borders since I became warchief. What have I done to earn your ire?" ...Precognition, it seemed, was hardly all powerful. Seer Makoa pips up behind her leader, asking "Is it the stuff with the Crimson Kingdom? I was surprised when they didn't cause more trouble in our lands. For someone so concerned with safety, that was very reckless."

"But it worked, and now we own Atel'Nora. Please, Makoa, don't question my decisions in front of other leaders." The seer relents with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Your Seer is closer to the truth then you may think," Closed-Fist says, patiently. "It is about the Crimson Kingdom."

"We appreciate your willingness to listen as we decry their evils, but... I have heard stories of a party. A celebration in the Crimson King's court. These stories were told to us by a very trusted individual. That, at first, you spoke up about the evil you saw within. And then... at the urging of an elf... partook of the flesh of another able bodied, once able to speak, creature."

The Homage's voice rises in indignation, and his gaze does not leave Kylisa's face. "It is true, these many years, that the Uzii and Alqar have established a... neutrality. We do not seek any harm to befall you or your clans, and would stand to protect your people, if we saw an injustice. Regardless of the preparator. Regardless of their social standing. And I would hope your people would have done the same. To speak out, loudly and proudly, against vile deeds done to me and mine. Yet... the stories I heard were that your voice was not one of a strong Warchief, but that of a demure wife. Easily cowed by the wishes of her husband and her husband's friend."

Speaking softly, Homage Closed-Fist found himself sitting down, to look up upon the human leader who helped rid the land of the madman that once led the Alqar. "You once brought the Uzii so much hope. I even entertained the idea at one point that we might be friends. At the moment, that seems impossible; which is a pity. I have so few that I as Homage can treat as an equal. It is true, though, that we have not met in battle, Kylisa. And though I am wroth with you, I... do not wish us to fight. But I would know, now, which are you: The Wife of a warrior, or a Warrior who is a wife? And saying 'Both' is a foolish answer for a leader."

Spoiler: Scrim in the Scrim Annex

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Originally Posted by Silent_Interim

The ambassador chuckles at the joke, but the sound is clearly forced. "You are a good leader, Homage. The Uzii are fortunate to have someone not merely strong, but wise as well. We had such grand expectations of Nithor. They have met them in the worst ways possible. I had hoped that Tradespeaker Lejah would prove some kind of counterbalance to whatever madness has overtaken the Thunspeaker as of late, but it seems that the two are no longer as close as they once were. And if the Tradespeaker is not coming here on the return from Targiz, I suspect they may not be coming back at all."

Loje stops, and shakes their head. "It is not a day for thoughts like these. We will have many opportunities to speak in coming days, Homage. You know full well my home is always open. This is a joyous occasion, and I should not let my melancholy change that.

"Bah, I am just good with words as well as fists," The Homage grins. "Now, my son? Far-Reach seems like he shall be a wise leader. Already, he has gone off to make a friend, even as it leaves his beautiful wife alone with an old codger like Deep-Sigh."

Pointing out the younger Uzii across the room, Closed-Fist gazes upon him proudly as Far-Reach seems to be making conversation with some tall creature that is putting the guards on edge. Likely a hero from the north, if the Homage had to guess. "You'll let me know if the Scrim need something, yes? I will do the same for the Protectorate. For now, though, you are right. Today is a day for revelry. For what little I can do to command it, I ask you to go off and find yourself a friend as well. Maybe get to know Far-Reach or one of the other younger Tuskers. I suddenly find the idea of participating in the next Snortsmoot to be... not to my tastes. Or if you've had your fill of speaking with Uzii after so many years, try the Targiz. They've got a new girl who could use a Scrim's perspective..."

Spoiler: Two Friends, Two Heroes

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Originally Posted by Silent_Interim

Tior returns the hug tightly, and with a grinding laugh. "We will see! It will be a good fight, no doubt!"

Almost self-consciously, Tior raises a hand gingerly to their "face". "Good, yes? Striking. Other Scrim warriors, they carve their faces to frighten. I think this is better. Tells enemies, 'I do not need to frighten you. You are nothing, like my face'." They laugh again, with a strange high note permeating the sound.

"It is good, yes." Pain-Drop grunts, now not quite sure what to do with herself. Normally, she'd ask Tior to spar, but this was supposed to be a lite workout before the actual duels. Sparring now might reveal some of the new tricks either of the two of them had come up with. Far better to wait. That left only one thing: politics. Oh, how the Battle-Mother hated it. It's why she rebuffed Tusker Deep-Sigh's attentions so long ago, though the Shaman of Thumpstrong was certainly worthy of her. No, she needed a nice quiet mate from the Redmoon clan. The new chief there was promising; strong, yes, but he'd never become a Sounder Alpha.

So as Pain-Drop contemplated what to say about the world, she decided she really didn't want to. Something else to talk about, though... oh! That would work. "Rose-Blood!"

"Yes, Battle-Mother?" Another Female Uzii stepped out from the crowd, and though she was nearly as big as Pain-Drop, she was younger and seemed to gaze at the Champion of the Uzii with a sense of wonder.

Terse as ever, Pain-Drop pointed at her friend, and introduced them. "Tior. Warspeaker for the Scrim."

"Tior? Rose-Blood Mudmore. Daughter to the Homage. My usual sparring partner. Maybe successor, if she learns to dodge." Pain-Drop lamented the other Uzii's ability to get out of the way of simple attacks.

Rose-Blood, for her part, seemed a bit sheepish as she said, "How do you do, Warspeaker?"

Spoiler: What Manner of Creature?

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Originally Posted by Torv

Scrambling on all fours between roots and over murky water Londkannuaur is awake for the first time in weeks, after being lost at the sea. A bloat toad on his heels, he’s fully focused on keeping his balance. Thus unaware he quickly scampers towards creatures with green plates on their chests, unsure if the giant toad is still following him.

Sea-Born Clearspring was a Clan Chief of the Clearfang Snort. He and his Clan was here to help the Rocktusks patrol the swamp nearest the southern waters for the Duel of Champions. It was mostly boring work, but Sea-Born was smart enough to know that it was important work. Swampum was not kind to visitors, which was why visitors often struggled to see the beauty in the Uzii's home. Sea-Born didn't understand that. What was not to like? The clear greenish waters, the blue trees, the sounds of Bloat Toads in the distance, challenging everyone to survive...

Honestly, Sea-Born was just so happy to be alive.

"Chief!" One of his warriors shouted, "Somethin's coming!"

Grunting his acknowledgement, Sea-Born checked to make sure his warriors were properly equipped and not slacking. Thirty years ago, he would have found Uzii on the ground, lazily scratching themselves, or fighting with each other, their spears out of reach. Homage Closed-Fist had really shaped things up. Sea-Born still saw some Uzii scratching themselves, and a pair of his brothers from his own Den were tussling a little, but everyone still had their spears in reach, and there was nothing lazy about any of them. Well, except for old No-Sleep Clearspring. The aged Shaman never got any rest, so he was constantly taking naps.

Stepping forward, Sea-Born grasped his spear and silently motioned for everyone to form up. His Clansmen spread out into a uniform half-circle, ready to take on whatever threat was coming. The scouts and spear-tossers got into good spots in the gnarled branches of nearby trees.

"What do we got, Splash-Well?" Sea-Born asked the Uzii who'd spotted something.

"Dunno, Chief. Sounds like somethin' being chased by Bloat Toad. Can hear thumps."

"Swamp Cat?"

"Maybe."

"Chief!" One of the scouts called out from up high, "It grey, like goliath, but small, like human."

Sea-Born cursed, "Blight! A guest! Someone wake up No-Sleep. We get to tussle today, boys!"

Now clear on what they needed to do, everyone was at full readiness. The... very odd guest... ran up to them, looking haggard and lost, and... more than a little ugly. A few of the Clan encircled the guest, to make sure they were protected. The rest of the patrol could hear the thumps of the Bloat Toad now, as it came towards them. It landed in the clearing, surrounded by Uzii. Sea-Born could see that it had scars from fighting with Uzii before. An older wild Toad, then. Not even afraid of the true predators of Swampum, as it had likely faced Uzii before and lived.

"Ruttin' blighted rutter, come and get some! CLEARSPRING!" Sea-Born swore colorfully, even as he ordered the attack.

His warriors answered, charging forward, "FOR THE CLAN!"

It was a rough fight. The rutting Bloat Toad was full of tricks, for being so old and wild. Several Uzii were battered and bruised, as the creature bucked and spun. Spears flew and the toad bled, but it wasn't enough. Sea-Born had almost been caught by the thing's tongue, when suddenly No-Sleep had showed up, and pushed the Chief out of the way. Chief and Shaman had time to look at each other one last time, before the aged man was half inside the Bloat Toad's mouth, his final scream one of defiance as his old staff had still managed to swing out and blind the Toad on the right, jabbing it in the eye even as No-Sleep was fully pulled into the hungry beast's maw.

There was a moment of silence and disbelief, where the Toad croaked uncaringly.

Enraged, the entire Clan roared and jumped the creature, impossibly weighing it down, stabbing it over and over again. It let out one last mournful croak, and thumped to the ground in defeat and death.

"Blighter," Sea-Born kicked the corpse of the Bloat-Toad, even as he wept from the loss of his Clan's Shaman. No-Sleep would at least get some rest in the Hereafter. Turning to the Uzii who had surrounded the guest, he called out, "Guest better be rutting safe!"

"Guest safe, Chief."
"Guest super safe, Chief."
"Guest... odd, Chief."

The three Uzii called back.

"Very odd, Chief."
"Very super odd, Chief."
"Look... wrong, Chief."
"Yeah, wrong."
"Super ugly."
"Twisted."
"Big... ears."
"Super big ears?"
"BIG BIG EARS!"
"Elf?"
"ELF. Super sure!"
"CHIEF, IT AN ELF!"

Oh Blightspawn. We just lost our Shaman for a ruttin' ELF? Sea-Born motioned for his patrol to form up, even as four of his Clan grabbed the corpse of the Bloat Toad. They'd take this Blighted flower-rutter straight to the Homage, and demand the right to kill it. For No-Sleep.

"To the Scrim Annex, boys. We let the Homage deal with this..." Sea-Born spit on the ground before uttering the another word, somehow making it also sound like a curse, "Guest."

The Clearspring Clan surrounded the 'elf' and began to 'escort' him to the Annex.

**mystic1110** · 2020-12-19, 03:30 PM (ISO 8601)

Scrim Annex

Ces laughs and says

If getting you hitched would get you to stop beating me over the head then consider it done! Hopefully by the time there is a wedding, I'll have a damn feather to wrap around your bride's finger. Anyway, if you're to get married I need to go get ready. I'll see you at the tournament.

Ces bids them adieu and heads to the Arena floor.

The Arena Floor

Sometime later Ces emerges upon the mud of the grounds of Proud-Laugh Stadium. Clean and shaven, his scraggly grey beard trimmed to a distinguished goatee, the man stands in almost thankful silence. His northern furs and hides have been put away and he stands dressed in traditional Uzii garb - his left hand holding a sword and his scarred face looking forward to the proving himself.

Thread: EMPIRE 6! - Mamut, Round 12, Event - Duel of Champions

EMPIRE 6! - Mamut, Round 12, Event - Duel of Champions

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Re: EMPIRE 6! - Mamut, Round 12, Event - Duel of Champions

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Re: EMPIRE 6! - Mamut, Round 12, Event - Duel of Champions

Re: EMPIRE 6! - Mamut, Round 12, Event - Duel of Champions

Re: EMPIRE 6! - Mamut, Round 12, Event - Duel of Champions

Re: EMPIRE 6! - Mamut, Round 12, Event - Duel of Champions

Re: EMPIRE 6! - Mamut, Round 12, Event - Duel of Champions

Re: EMPIRE 6! - Mamut, Round 12, Event - Duel of Champions

Re: EMPIRE 6! - Mamut, Round 12, Event - Duel of Champions

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