[Empire!] The Courtship of Arrēsa (Round 10)

[Aedilred]

The town of Imālca was always somewhat more open than the fortified seats to the north, but since the arrival of the Dreamspeakers in numbers, this trait has become even more evident. The river here is still narrow enough to ford - at least for much of the year - and traders from across the kingdom and likely further afield have gathered.

Anywhere there is space, there are people selling wares or services, or offering opportunities to gamble. Food sourced from the forests is widely for sale, and a variety of other refreshments for immediate consumption, as well as semiprecious stones and jewellery, tools and weapons, and carved wooden fetishes, but there are also more exotic goods: pearls from the east, invigorating leaves from the north, herbs from the west. Some of the traders are more honest than others: some of the food on sale is less fresh than it might be; some of the goods are fakes, and a lot of the games are rigged, but a shrewd buyer can no doubt find some good deals.

The old part of the town is fashioned from the gargantuan architecture common throughout the hills, made of huge stones, with some of the spaces now infilled and subdivided into wooden or adobe brick dwellings. It may be difficult to tell the difference between an alley and an entrance to one of these dwellings, as a number of the alleys are covered with cloth or with wooden boards (and sometimes further dwellings built on top. This distinction is not aided by a tendency to conduct what some might consider private business in more public spaces: one might for instance catch sight of young people coupling in the alleys, which apparently is unremarkable to the locals.

It is likely that visitors will find they have to stay outside the old town, in one of an array of temporary huts and tents that have grown up both thanks to the Dreamspeaker presence and people travelling to this event. Most of the major chieftains of the Bannanda are here with their entourages, and inevitably competition has broken out between them. A number of rings for sparring and wrestling have been marked out, some of them even including temporary fixtures like seating or fencing, and on the outskirts, there are corrals of racing donkeys for those reckless enough to race a course through the trees. Men of the Esāla patrol to keep order: healthy competition is one thing but real violence is unlikely to be tolerated.

At the centre of it all is the onōa's house or "palace", currently occupied by the king and his daughter. Other members of his family are frequent sights throughout both the old town and the camp, but to see him or Arrēsa one must go to the palace and request an audience. Or at least, in principle: it is widely rumoured that the two of them are watching more closely than it might appear, visiting the camp in disguise.


Characters
You can submit as many suitors as you like, within reason. More may be merrier, but quality also trumps quantity.

If you are not a Kiswan player, several of us (including me) are happy to let players from other continents play a character from one of our countries. You could also play a character from an as yet undiscovered region in Kiswa who has heard about this on their travels and made their way here.


Proving your worth

While there is no officially organised competition, naturally a number of suitors have taken to showing off in attempts to demonstrate their eligibility. To participate in any of the events, roll 2d6 plus half your relevant ruler score(s) unless stated otherwise. If rolling against multiple scores, add the scores then halve the total. Fractions are rounded up.
Heroes add an additional +1 to their roll. You can seek aid on any roll if you want to spend the action. Further bonuses may be available as described below.

If you are playing a character from a country that is not your own, use the attributes for your adopted character's ruler or (if you prefer) generate attributes for a new character by rolling as if for your first ruler.

Sparring and wrestling
Challenge another suitor to a practice combat. This may be wrestling or (if that would grant an unfair advantage to one participant) with blunted weapons. Wrestling and sparring has a heavy component of cunning in addition to martial prowess, and winning with the aid of trickery is not only accepted but actually encouraged. (An exception is pretending to concede, which is not permitted).
Roll against Military plus Intrigue (halved). Heroes use their own score for this event in place of their ruler's military score.

You can also fight against the king's brother Onodīs (who rolls with a +6) or his cousin Ecimōnā (who rolls with a +8). They are not officially competing, of course, but are always up for a fight.

Winning multiple bouts will doubtless catch the eye of someone important.

Making one's suit
Address the lady herself and the king with a speech about your deeds, or if you have no great deeds to your name, entertain them with your wit.
Roll against Diplomacy. Writing an extract from the speech gives you an extra +1.

Provide a gift
Give a worthy gift to the king (and/or Arrēsa) to impress him.
Roll against Opulence. You can spend Treasure on this roll for an additional +2.

Go racing
Participate in the "needlessly dangerous" sport of racing donkeys through the trees. Two donkeys are harnessed together with a wooden frame behind. The competitor has to hang on as the donkeys race a circuit through the forest. Trained racing donkeys which know the route will be provided to foreign competitors if they do not have their own, so all the racer has to do is hold on until the end of the course and not fall off or collide with a tree. Injuries are common and the donkeys run fast, so this is really a test of courage.
Roll against Faith. Add an additional +1 if you have the Animal Husbandry technology.

Mock battles
Less a matter for an individual suitor as a group, but nevertheless a way to prove one's worth, gangs from rival tribes may gather to fight a mock battle with weapons of soft wood or balls of rubber. These are not harmless, and bruises are a given, but it is a way to both show off the prowess of one's people while also providing a degree of training against potentially unfamiliar opponents.
Roll against Military (or Hero score). Add +1 for each military technology you have. If you have a unique tactical doctrine, add an additional +1.

Sūwedōna
This is a ritual dispute resolution process sometimes used by the Bannanda, especially among the Hūena and the Azipāra, although it is relatively rare due to the extreme stress the process causes and the devasatating social consequences of defeat. The prime avocados owned by each group are presented and compared, with the superior avocados carrying the day. It is not a process to be undertaken lightly and only the most confident (or brash) suitors should make any such challenge. Losing at Sūwedōna is likely to disqualify any suitor from consideration.
Roll against all attributes (halved). If you have the Avocados resource, add +4 to the roll. If you have Irrigation, add a further +2.
(It may be possible to petition the Dreamspeakers to "massage" the quality of your avocados presented for inspection).

Selection of a suitor

The final decision rests with Etelis (who will probably consult Arrēsa herself). Humanoid and high-status characters are likely to be preferred, but success in the events will likely impress them. The Bannanda are open to polygamy in principle, but would expect Arrēsa to be treated as a full wife and not a concubine. Having several wives already is likely to count against a suitor.

If the lucky winner is not already a lord, they will be given a position of authority in Imālca.

[mystic1110]

Who has not heard of the great KaSi of Kw’Sewi? Who could not have?! They are the right-hand of the great Yegin themselves! They are the Warcaller of the Korebita, perhaps the first human to have held that esteemed position; and if Yegin is First in the Realm, it could be said, and KaSi did say it, that KaSi was Second!

KaSi, the Warrior-Poet famous far and wide, their name can never be forgotten!

More used to the freedom of being one of Yegin’s Merrymen instead of the sometimes stifling role of Korebita’s Warcaller, KaSi has roamed far from the halls of the Blemmyae Tribes in the search of more adventures to add under their name in the histories residing at grand library of their people.

Hearing the tales of the beauty of the princess Arrēsa, KaSi decides that this story will be an epic poem, with the imaginative title: “KaSi’s Bride”.

Arriving essentially alone, only a handful of other humans and Blemmyae as their entourage, the remnants of Yegin’s Merrymen (now that Yegin had ascended to a grand and official post, their followers were given high-posts themselves and were thus spread out and their days of roving together, behind them), KaSi is dressed as they are usually dressed - in the traditional wrestling attire of the Kw’Sewi clan - shirtless with a cloth completely covering their lower body such that it looked like a man wearing the bottom half of a gown, except that, in recognition of the event and KaSi's status, two sashes of the finest materials were strapped across their broad, but aging, shoulders; KaSi was not a young male anymore – their skin was almost leather from the constant exposure to the sun, wrinkled and spotted. Still, underneath the fat, quite a bit now around the waist, and the folds, was a mountain of muscle, built through a life of being a warrior.

Entering the camp, KaSi looks around for their bride to be – the poem is already half composed in their mind – and seeing nobody but other suitors bellows:

Sing O' Muses
Of the beauty of females
Sing for me to hear because I do not see any!

The handful of Merrymen laughed at KaSi’s poem – it may take some getting used to, KaSi is famous for their awful poetry, a secret they all keep from them, but they do have a certain wit about them.

[bc56]

Only one suitor arrives from Veramondo. A young man, with a mix of Veramondi and Bannanda features, a longspear across his back and a tunic of boarskin on his chest. He announces himself boldly, "I am Kata the Fatherless, son of Kona, the warrior princess of Veramondo! I have come to prove myself and win the love of the beautiful Arrēsa! Who shall dare challenge me!" He's a strong lad, well built and hardened by training and adventuring with his mother and other warriors. He has a wild expression in his eye, fierce and untamable. His fatherless status has been a source of shame in his homeland, but he will not be stopped. He has taken it up as a mantle, his point of pride.

[Potato_Priest]

Spoiler: Delegation

Show

Rosie MacGill
Neno, who never hit a foe twice
The Sorcerer-Imposter Inigid
The Sorceress Neli

KaSi K'Sewi

Neno, who never hit a foe twice was an older man now, his scraggly beard now silver through and through, with deep lines across his face. Rather than join the throngs of bragging youngsters, he sat cross-legged in his tent, observing them. Upon seeing Kasi K'Sewi though, he stood and approached.

The muscular luthrail sidled up to the warrior poet, smiling gently. He spoke softly, but carried a large stick on his back.

"KaSi K'Sewi! I am Neno, who never hit a foe twice. We last met at the Kiswan-wrestling tournament, but we did not have time to speak. I hadn't expected to find another man of my advanced years and wisdom here. What brings you to this gathering of the young and fit?"

[Gaius Hermicus]

Although Kasiy Kw'Sewi was the more famous of the Korebita suitors, they were not the only one from the United Abiherist Tribes seeking the hand of Arresa. In fact, Kasiy's rival in this courtship was the favored candidate of Wenid Kw'Muketi, who had escorted them from Kema to Imalca for the courtship event.

Upon arriving in the old town, Wenid's personal bodyguards stand down, slowing to walk behind the King of Kings: at a long enough distance not to be obtrusive, but still within the range of a well-placed spear throw in the event of an assassin. By Wenid's side was their preferred suitor, the dashing human Gusuhaz Kw'Sewi. Gusuhaz was dressed in the traditional garb of the Sewi clan: a linen skirt embroidered with images of their greatest deeds and a long feathered cape, bright white and yellow. A small copper-bladed axe dangled from one hip, elaborate swirls and designs worked into the metal head. Gusuhaz' demeanour was cheerful, but not cocky. They were handsome, with the exception of a once-broken nose plastered across their face, but even this simply gave them a rakish appearance that could not really be classed as ugly.

Wenid and Gusuhaz walked up to Etelis, blinking in respect. Great king Etelis, proclaimed Wenid, allow me to introduce to you Gusuhaz Kw'Sewi, commander of the Sewi Warriors, a renowned hero of the Korebita, and, as of today, one who desires the hand of Arresa in marriage. I hope they will meet with your approval.

Gusuhaz kneels at the feet of Arresa herself, holding out a single flawless rose, as white as the snows atop Muketi's Peak. My lady, I am at your service. Please accept this token of my love, which I selected myself frommy gardens. I will win your hand, my lady, for, having gazed upon such a picture of loveliness, I could never be satisfied with another. All others are, in comparison to you, as a dead and withered flower to this beautiful rose. Anything you desire of me, simply ask, and I should cross all of the known world to accomplish it.

[Potato_Priest]

Wenid Kw'Muketi
The invitations sent by messenger had invited Wenid Kw'Muketi to meet Rosie MacGill in the market.

As he approached, the entire Anbroch delegation including the Warlady bowed to the King of Kings. The ancient luthrail sorceress Neli stood by the
side of the Warlady, and a bound Inigid Kw’Anigoli was flanked on either side by armored dwarves.
"King of Kings, it is good to see ye are well," Rosie said politely, "I invited ye here because I have come across some information that may be of vital importance to your safety. For ye see," She gestured to the Blemmyae sorcerer, "This is not Inigid Kw'Anigoli, and not all of the conspirators in your father's murder died in Kema."

[mystic1110]

Neno, who never hit a foe twice

KaSi did not remember Neno, but they did remember the wrestling competition – after all, it was at that event where KaSi made their name and became the hero that they were today. Of course the old man remembered him from that event, how could he not?! As such KaSi thinking to reward the man for his remembrances, clasped him on the shoulder as if they were two old friends reuniting and instead of asking their name launched into poorly crafted poetics.

Whisper O’ Muses
Of respect due to the Elders
We know how to treat a wife, eh?

KaSi looked at the other man and waggled their brow lewdly such that the completely obvious innuendo was made even more needlessly explicit.

Groan O’ Muses
The young may have the Stamina
But with Age comes Skill!

KaSi laughs and slaps the other man on his back imploring him to laugh with them.

Wenid Kw'Muketi and Gusuhaz Kw'Sewi

KaSi and the other suitors had remained in the town designated for competition waiting for the Bride to make her appearance, while apparently Wenid Kw'Muketi and Gusuhaz Kw'Sewi had journeyed further, waiting for no one as befitting the King of Kings, directly to Onōa's house for an audience with the King.

KaSi did not see them go into the so-called palace, but was told of this by their compatriots and made sure to find them as they exited the building. KaSi would never confront the King of Kings themselves but them being here with a younger Sewi certainly introduced a wrinkle to the epic poem that they were already half way finished composing. Poetry, as KaSi, told everyone is hard work and it would not do to have to rewrite the ending where KaSi rides off under the sunset with Arrēsa slung over their shoulders.

KaSi meets Wenid Kw'Muketi and Gusuhaz Kw'Sewi as they exit and inclines their head below their shoulders in the traditional manner of the Sewi to imitate their brethren Blemmyae and also falls to their knees in the exaggerated genuflection common to all poets, even the good ones.

Hail O’ Muses
The King of Kings, may they never be forgotten
Or forget to say hello.

KaSi laughs and looks up expectantly at their king waiting to hear why they are here and who that young Sewi behind them is.

[Gaius Hermicus]

The Rival

Wenid laughs at Kasiy's greeting and winks at them in friendship. Ah, hello, brave Kasiy. I see you have come to woo the lovely Arresa as well. As it happens, I am here to escort another suitor, young Gusuhaz Kw'Sewi, to do the same. You may perhaps remember them from the battle against Ekaniyi Kw'Adeni, the traitor king, where the two of you fought alongside me. Gusuhaz commanded the slingers and spear-throwers, rallying them with their rousing speech when they nearly broke and fled the battle. Without their courage and inspiring words, many of our comrades would not be here today.


The Revealer of Truth

With these words from Rosie MacGill, the face in Wenid's chest goes pale. Behind them, one of their bodyguards audibly gasped. What do you mean, Warlady? Who do you suspect of this treachery?

[Potato_Priest]

KaSi

Neno frowned as Kasi clapped him on the back. "I am here to recruit men who fail to woo the princess for an expedition across the Sur to kill a monster, not to wed a young beauty," He unstrapped the staff from his back and took it into both hands, "For I find that as the man ages, so the staff droops." Grunting and straining his muscles, he managed to bend the thick piece of wood enough to prove his point.

"You were once a good wrestler, KaSi. You defeated my friend Warlady Mollie, but now I must teach you that you are no longer fit to tussle with the young."

Wenid
"Perhaps it would be best if I explained the long story." Rosie MacGill smiled, and began pacing back and forth. "Don't fear, you are safe here for now.

When I was preparing to execute this Sorcerer for participating in the murder of my mother, they protested with an interesting story. They claimed not to be the true Inigid, saying that they had been recruited to replace the original Inigid Kw'Anigoli over twenty years ago, by none other than Yegin Kw'Haleti and Kasi K'Sewi, on their return from the wrestling tournament in Kincany. He said they had recruited him after the death of the sorcerer, to keep people from losing faith in his magics. Of course, I did not believe the lies of a traitorous snake like them at first. Yegin Kw'Haleti and KaSi K'sewi would be convenient victims of his lies in Anbroch lands, after all.

Then, the next day as I awoke, I had a thought." Here, she gestured to the crone Neli. "This Sorceress, a woman called Neli, came to me not long after the murder of Mollie MacGill bearing very similar magics to those of Inigid. So, I decided one night to see whether the source of their powers was the same. I took Inigid to the room where Neli practiced her magic and told them that if they could reveal to me the source of Neli's power, I would forestall their execution. Trap by trap, spell by spell, and device by device, they recognized and could use every one of Neli's magics, so I reasoned they must have learned from the same source, and I feared that my own sorceress would turn on me as your father's had on him.

The next day at court, I had Neli imprisoned for sharing magics with the traitorous murderer Inigid. Fearing for her life, the old liar told me she had learned her magics from finding the corpse of a Blemmyae buried in a shallow grave on the beach, and never trained under any Blemmyae sorcerer. Naturally, I noticed the intersection of this story with that of "Inigid Kw'Anigoli," so I sent partisan workers to scour the beach where Neli said for a corpse, and they found some very old but unmistabeably Blemmyae remains. The stories matched up, and according to both of these two, Inigid Kw'Anigoli must have died in Kincany in the company of Yegin and KaSi, to be replaced by this imposter. I believe there is no possibility that they are collaborating, given the way that "Inigid" exposed Neli, and thus I must confess I believe them.

The only questions remaining are how Inigid died, and why Yegin and KaSi would plant a dangerous imposter in your father's court without telling him, then aid you in the civil war that resulted from their handiwork. The whole thing reeks of either dark magics and grander scale planning than I can imagine, or a reckless disregard for the King's authority and safety and a willingness to stoop to any depravity to further their own legends."

[Aedilred]

Entering the camp, KaSi looks around for their bride to be – the poem is already half composed in their mind – and seeing nobody but other suitors bellows:

Sing O' Muses
Of the beauty of females
Sing for me to hear because I do not see any!

The handful of Merrymen laughed at KaSi’s poem – it may take some getting used to, KaSi is famous for their awful poetry, a secret they all keep from them, but they do have a certain wit about them.

Many looked around at KaSi's alleged poetry, and, believing him to be out of earshot, one onandis stood and, mimicking his posture, proclaimed,

"Oh sing we do of the beauty of females
From the westerly trolls to the easterly whales
My love deserves oysters, but I'll give her snails."

His companions cackled in response.

Only one suitor arrives from Veramondo. A young man, with a mix of Veramondi and Bannanda features, a longspear across his back and a tunic of boarskin on his chest. He announces himself boldly, "I am Kata the Fatherless, son of Kona, the warrior princess of Veramondo! I have come to prove myself and win the love of the beautiful Arrēsa! Who shall dare challenge me!" He's a strong lad, well built and hardened by training and adventuring with his mother and other warriors. He has a wild expression in his eye, fierce and untamable. His fatherless status has been a source of shame in his homeland, but he will not be stopped. He has taken it up as a mantle, his point of pride.

A young woman approached Kata, her eyes blazing. On her head she wore a helmet covered with what appeared to be the shells of sea creatures, while in an approximation of armour around her hips and bosom, she wore wrapped hide sewn with bone and ivory, some of it hanging loose as charms across her stomach and between her legs, and carrying a bronze-tipped spear of a shape that a weapons expert would note was rare outside southern Kiswa.

"You! Why do you call yourself the fatherless? Do not all men have fathers? Was you born of a god?"

Wenid and Gusuhaz walked up to Etelis, blinking in respect. Great king Etelis, proclaimed Wenid, allow me to introduce to you Gusuhaz Kw'Sewi, commander of the Sewi Warriors, a renowned hero of the Korebita, and, as of today, one who desires the hand of Arresa in marriage. I hope they will meet with your approval.

Gusuhaz kneels at the feet of Arresa herself, holding out a single flawless rose, as white as the snows atop Muketi's Peak. My lady, I am at your service. Please accept this token of my love, which I selected myself frommy gardens. I will win your hand, my lady, for, having gazed upon such a picture of loveliness, I could never be satisfied with another. All others are, in comparison to you, as a dead and withered flower to this beautiful rose. Anything you desire of me, simply ask, and I should cross all of the known world to accomplish it.

Arrēsa took the flower somewhat shyly, but then a momentary look of mischief crossed her face. "You would do anything I desire? Will you bring my mother back to me?"

The king gave her a stern look.

[bc56]

Kata and the Warrior Woman

"True, all men have fathers. But my mother has told me not who my father is. Perhaps he is a god, or a king, or a great hero of old!" Kata spreads his arms dramatically. "Someday, perhaps, I will go on a quest to meet my father. But today, I am here... FOR LOVE! Truly, you are a beautiful maiden. Are you as skilled with a spear as you appear to be?"

[Gaius Hermicus]

The Revealer of Secrets

I simply can't believe it, said Wenid, horrified. No. No. It could not possibly be true. Yegin and Kasiy have always been my closest friends. There is not a deceptive bone in either of their bodies. And they were among those seated next to me at the banquet which the traitor Inigid attacked after murdering my parent.

Besides, why should I trust your word? It is common knowledge that you bear a grudge against Yegin for their part in the death of your predecessor as Warlady, and there is thus an obvious motivation for you to turn me against them, whereas any motivation Yegin might have to plot against my parent or me is so obscure. Unless you can present me with definitive proof, I will not accept your assertions.


The Object of Affections

To bring back your mother? If the entrance to the land of the dead can be found in Kiswa, I swear to you, I would venture there myself if you asked it of me. I would brave the terrors of endless night, battle the demon Otowiri themself if it would win me your love. Just say the word, and I shall be at your command.

[Rolepgeek]

When Onoynoyis, Eneinghlizi, and Nikara arrive, it is not with fanfare, but it is with style. Onoynoyis, now a young man in his prime, is laughing and joking with the Dhraan and Efryt alongside him - and when the 10-foot tall crocodilian gives him a slap on the back, he goes stumbling forward a few steps before stopping, fists clenched. His companions fall silent and he turns around to stare...until he can no longer keep a straight face, and the three of them burst out laughing. As the others start walking again, the boy gives the troll a playful shove - which makes Eneinghlizi take a step back to steady themselves. This goes unremarked upon as the three snicker and strain in the processing of attempting to at least somewhat compose themselves while approaching the main event.

Onoynoyis is the one to step forward, announcing the trio to the palace with excellent projection and the unmistakable spark of youth: "Hail! I am Onoynoyis, son of Ichippā, first prince of Saar Lhungho, here to request audience with my uncle Etelīs, that most Paramount of Chiefs! Beside me are my fine and beloved companions, Eneinghlizi of the Graljaaga family, who once stole the tusks off a banded Inghu bull in mating season and called his missing arm a good trade, and Nikara of Singhön, whose soul burns with such heat that we could have cooked our meals upon his chest, if but I had the wit to drive him to anger!"

The prince, dressed in a well-loved hide vest that had clearly once been suitable for a personage of his station before he'd been allowed to stay alone in a room with it and a knife was grinning from ear to ear as Eneinghlizi - who wore naught but a skirt of stitched leathers disks in a curious pattern of colors and what appeared to be a half-filled wooden trough resting across his speckled sandy shoulders - physically held his own jaws shut with one hand to keep from laughing, turning his head to one side to make himself slightly less obvious, and Nikara's previously maroon complexion flushes brilliant scarlet, in marked contrast to his curling charcoal hair, woven trousers he was clearly unaccustomed to, and finely made striped leather cloak he was failing to subtly adjust so as to cover his well-defined chest.

"They present themselves at this great festival, like so many other, lesser, men, in hopes of winning the hand of your daughter, Arrēsa! While they cannot be recommended highly enough, neither may I discern which of them is the more gullible! I must rely on your wisdom for that, Uncle, if you will be so kind as to advise your nephew as to which is the greater fool for holding so steadfast a bond with a troublemaker as restless as I, through all these long years that I have known them!"

Nikara's hands turned out to do badly at hiding the sharp features of his face as he groaned quietly: "Fires shaping stone, 'Noyis, why'd you have to go and say things like that, what sort of impression are you even giving her when-we-haven't-met-I-mean-" Eininghlizi chuckled as he tipped his trough to one side, water splashing to interrupt the mumbling Vyrka. "C'mon Nika, don't burn up 'fore we've even met th'girl, eh? 'T this rate ye'll not even get to look't her without your face catchin' fire, mate!"

[Minescratcher]

The Piranha Arrives

Sails on the river - a sign well-known among the peoples of Kiswa by now. Three canoes squelched in the mud of the riverbank, oars jutting over the sides and biting into the earth to pull the craft fully from the water. Sailors shouted and laughed as the sails were stowed and a dashing young Bel-Dan leapt over the side of the largest canoe. He wore a short skirt made of the spotted hide of some jungle creature, held about his waist by a belt which also supported two knives and a heavy stone-headed club. His well-muscled chest and arms were accentuated by two crossing cloth sashes, one blue, the other red, and atop his head sat a shapeless black hat with three colorful feathers peeking over the top, marking him as the captain of these ships.

Soon a small throng of sailors entered the village, some investigating the merchants' wares, others taking in the foreign architecture. One Bel-Dan spots a couple in an alley and yells to the others in his own language, and an outburst of laughter echoes across the town. The young captain, though, was nowhere to be found, having circled the town to enter from the other side. He slipped through the crowds towards the palace, clambered up the wooden additions of the nearby alleys, and leapt from roof to roof until he was directly atop the palace. He waited for his crew to slowly move towards the building, watching the other delegations; then, when he judged the time was right, he stood up and shouted a challenge to the town.

"Suitors, Bannanda, travelers! I am Ren-Pera-Don, the Fish Who Shatters Bone! I challenge any man, woman, cha-con-dan or tar-bel-dan who would seek to win the lady's hand to single combat, and let any who refuse be known as coward far and wide!"

He lowered himself over the ledge of the roof, his back and arms gleaming in the sunlight, and dropped to the ground. "Who shall face me first? There is no shame in being the first to taste defeat!"

An observant eye would notice a pirate woman slip through the doors behind him and into the palace.

---

The Palace (Aed)

A Bel-Dan woman in inconspicuous clothing made her way to the Bannanda king and bowed.

"Great King, I am Ren-Cha-Jelě, once Reren of the Bel-Dan-Ub. My enemies conspired to overthrow me, and I am now exiled from my home. I offer my service to you; I can teach your shipbuilders to make seaworthy craft after our fashion, and I can discover the lay of the eastern coast."

[Tychris1]

”Bring me an avocado or two, my lads
Bring me a feast for more.
For the dreams of few and a royal stew
Is what I’m looking for.
Bring me my Mother’s Milk my lads
Bring me the tools of my fun
For the Princess and King aren’t hosting for free
And we’ve only got till the sun
Bring me my finest garbs me lads
Bring me my fanciest gem
Cause the code is high and I’d like to try
To see what’s getting to them
There’s plenty of dreamers to lay about my lads
With purses as girthy as my gut
They wear fancy crowns, have never worn frowns
And have peasants to wipe their butt
They don’t ever think about us poor frowning fools
Though out in the Sur we sit
But you see crowns and smiles a like my lads
Are equally worn by a twit
Bring me an avocado or two my lads
Bring me the tastiest boar
-Clean my head of its worts,
Bring me my best sorts,
An' leave all your regrets at the door.
So make sure your ole' knife is sharp, my lads,
An' make sure you watch with who you lie,
For the world is awash with fools, blood, and gold,
And all sorts of folks are just waitin' to die.”

The Troll sat by herself, huddled up by a merchants tent with a moth chewed pavilion of his own, and observed the pomp and bragging of the contestants about. She was a great ugly thing. Her scales were white as snow, her teeth and nails yellowed save for the gems mixed into her maw, and her eyes were remarkably bright and pink. Steadily she smoked on a pipe, the worked wood more like a club or totem to a man, and the puffs of smoke that bellowed from the pavilion gave the illusion of a great fire within. The shadows seemed to dance within her parlor. Passengers could easily mistake it for the mirage of smoke but those with keen eyes could see the details of hands and faces. In her free hand she held an avocado like a precious egg and rolled it between her fingers. Slowly but surely, unbeknownst to most, the Dreamspeakers slipped from out of her encampment, and worked through the party plying their trade. They had set themselves as closely to the palace as they could without drawing the ire of the guards and the smell of fine fragrances reeked from deep within their hovel.

[Gaius Hermicus]

The Wrestling:

I will take you up on your challenge! Gusuhaz shouts to Ren-Pera-Don, shrugging off their feathered cape and facing the Bel-Dan warrior. The two circled for a moment before Pera-Don became impatient and charged Gusuhaz, attempting to grab their arms and push them to the ground. Gusuhaz dodged the swipe and threw their weight at the off-balance Pera-Don, clinging to their back. Nearly pinned, Ren-Pera-Don used their greater strength to reassert their balance, leaving Gusuhaz dangling precariously from his shoulders, their feet hanging in the air. Ren-Pera-Don, enraged, threw himself to the ground, and an awful crunch could be heard as he fell on Gusuhaz, crushing the Sewi warrior. Gusuhaz managed to wriggle out from underneath him and get back into fighting stance, both competitors breathing heavily. Again they came together, their arms locked as each one struggled to push the other to the ground, but neither could make headway against the other. For nearly five minutes they struggled at one another, neither able to topple the other, before finally stepping away. The fight had ended in a draw.

[Aedilred]

Kata and the Warrior Woman

"True, all men have fathers. But my mother has told me not who my father is. Perhaps he is a god, or a king, or a great hero of old!" Kata spreads his arms dramatically. "Someday, perhaps, I will go on a quest to meet my father. But today, I am here... FOR LOVE! Truly, you are a beautiful maiden. Are you as skilled with a spear as you appear to be?"

"The last man who doubted my spearcraft gave me this helmet. Not willingly."

She gave a feral grin and drew her finger across her throat.

"If you want to see how well I handle a spear, I would be all too happy to give you a demonstration."

So intent was she on Kata, that she did not notice Enengtis behind her, nor the look on his face as he backed away and then turned and ran.

The Object of Affections

To bring back your mother? If the entrance to the land of the dead can be found in Kiswa, I swear to you, I would venture there myself if you asked it of me. I would brave the terrors of endless night, battle the demon Otowiri themself if it would win me your love. Just say the word, and I shall be at your command.

"Oh," she looked slightly crestfallen, "You are sweet. I am sorry for teasing. I may be young and know little of the world, but I fear it is unwise to promise things that cannot be delivered, though I know your intentions are good. I shall not ask you the impossible, but if you wish for a chance to prove yourself, over and above what all the other suitors are doing to attract my attention, I have a suggestion. My uncle Ocēmis has a ring set with an aquamarine, a rare blue stone he brought back from the south. If you bring me that ring, I will believe that you will indeed do all that you claim."

The Palace (Aed)

A Bel-Dan woman in inconspicuous clothing made her way to the Bannanda king and bowed.

"Great King, I am Ren-Cha-Jelě, once Reren of the Bel-Dan-Ub. My enemies conspired to overthrow me, and I am now exiled from my home. I offer my service to you; I can teach your shipbuilders to make seaworthy craft after our fashion, and I can discover the lay of the eastern coast."

Etelis waved to some attendants, to have a seat brought for the former Reren, and a cup of palm wine.

"I had feared for your safety. Our alliance with the Armada has not been called into question since Ren Cha-Fen took power, but the situation is nevertheless troubling. I have no particular inclination to involve myself in Bel-Dan politics, and if the alliance will be honoured by the Armada then we shall keep it - but it is distressing to see our friends driven from their homes. Of course, you are welcome in Henanda for as long as you wish to stay."

[Potato_Priest]

Wrestling with KaSi

KaSi laughs and slaps the old man on the back and flexes their muscles ready to brawl.

"Claim O' Muses
That Age can never Rob
A Real man's Vigor!"
The two old men squared off in the ring in the sand, swinging their arms to limber up and eyeing each other before locking arms and giving a few tentative pushes. Though they may be old, both still seemed strong, and the sand churned under their feet and flew up into the eyes of bystanders as they tussled. Spectators oohed and ahed as KaSi made a stunning grapple where they displayed their remaining flexibility by suddenly ducking under Neno's legs and grabbing him from behind in a vice-like headlock, and as Neno escaped by flipping the K'Sewi warrior over his head with a huge grunt. However, the vigor of the engagement was short-lived. After the first couple of minutes, they began to move more slowly, and after a few more, the two men barely even seemed to be trying, weakly stumbling around the ring breathing heavily. The boos and mockery from the crowd caused the two aged warriors to nod to each other and release their grip, then gesture to the crowd for water as they stood apart from one another, panting.

"Well, you were right that the young have the stamina," Neno gasped, "but I don't think we do anymore."

KaSi heaved with effort, their breath ragged from the strain of the battle

"Breath (KaSi wheezes) O' Muses
And (KaSi is visibly struggling to continue their awful poem while trying to stop from coughing up a lung) exhale your extra breath
To me in my (the request comes out as a gasp for air) time of need"

After a few minutes, the two competitors resumed their match. This time though they bore in mind the quickly approaching limits of their stamina. KaSi opened with a leg sweep that knocked Neno to the ground, but when they leapt onto the Luthrail their head was grabbed in a mighty two-handed grip by Neno. Quickly readjusting his weight upwards into a kneeling position Neno forced KaSi's face into the ground, where their broken nose soon filled with sand, and their choking and sneezing put an end to their flailing attempts to regain control.

KaSi is forced to concede and you could see the anguish caused by their ruined pride on their face. Till now they had never lost - they were after all the treasured War-Leader of their people and had maintained that position through more than just fiction and good will. But now - choking on dirt they cry for surrender, forgoing poetics and sulking away from the dueling arena in anger and shame, the laughter of other warriors following him, and with Neno left behind given free reign for his final words.

Shaking his head sadly as KaSi walked off, Neno spoke to the crowd. "I make no claim on Princess Arresa, I just wanted to show him up, skilled though he is. If you want to talk to an old warrior, or you want to help fight against the blightspawn, come seek me out. My tent is just over there and I need young, strong men who don't get winded after five minutes of wrestling to help me kill a slithering womb."

[Frostwander]

The Vygra are well known for their attendance at the courts of the other nations of Kiswa, their delegations always drawing attention with their rainbow of colors and variety of appearances. It is perhaps contrary to established expectations that a single ra walks into the town of Imālca. No attendees, assistants, or warriors accompany the young Efra. She stands nearly thirty hands high, and her sleeveless wrap tunic and skirt exhibit an athletic form. Her skin is like charcoal, veins glowing from within, with dark red hair pulled back in braided rows. A short spear of black iron and a bronze-bladed asca are strapped to her back and side, with a hide shield carried over her shoulder.

Rather than the stately calm pace of a Vygra diplomat, this ra strides with a purpose. Ignoring the merchant stalls and the baubles and refreshments hawked therein, she passes by Bannanda and foreigner alike. She stops only once on her way to the competition grounds, at the pavilion of the albino troll. Something in the smoke catches her eye, and she steps out of the street to inquire after her trade.

---
On reaching the competition, she announces herself with little ceremony, but great volume. "My name is Angna. I have come to challenge, and to be challenged. I will face any who wish to pit themselves against me." As she looks around the competitors, she picks out Kata, a familiar face from his upbringing in Farahabi. Though a few years older than she, he might recognize her from their youth in the Vygra city. Additionally, her gaze settles briefly on Nikara's fiery complexion; while unfamiliar personally, there is a kinship of elements present.

"For our host, I bring a gift!" Angna unfurls the bundle she carries, showing a full auroch hide of exceptional quality, and within, the pure-white fur of a great snow bear. "Our hunters work in groups of five to reap the aurochs of the plains. The hunters of the southern snows avoid the white bears when they number less than ten! These hides and furs I have taken alone, and brought that you might see the strength of my arm and the fire of my soul."

Spoiler: Angna inspiration

Show

[Minescratcher]

Wrestling with the Blemmyae

I will take you up on your challenge! Gusuhaz shouts to Ren-Pera-Don, shrugging off their feathered cape and facing the Bel-Dan warrior. The two circled for a moment before Pera-Don became impatient and charged Gusuhaz, attempting to grab their arms and push them to the ground. Gusuhaz dodged the swipe and threw their weight at the off-balance Pera-Don, clinging to their back. Nearly pinned, Ren-Pera-Don used their greater strength to reassert their balance, leaving Gusuhaz dangling precariously from his shoulders, their feet hanging in the air. Ren-Pera-Don, enraged, threw himself to the ground, and an awful crunch could be heard as he fell on Gusuhaz, crushing the Sewi warrior. Gusuhaz managed to wriggle out from underneath him and get back into fighting stance, both competitors breathing heavily. Again they came together, their arms locked as each one struggled to push the other to the ground, but neither could make headway against the other. For nearly five minutes they struggled at one another, neither able to topple the other, before finally stepping away. The fight had ended in a draw.

"Well fought, cha-con-dan. We'll call it a draw, but a wrestler like you has certainly earned the entrance of the palace." He bowed, pointing Gusuhaz towards the steps.

---

An Exile in King Etelis's Court

Etelis waved to some attendants, to have a seat brought for the former Reren, and a cup of palm wine.

"I had feared for your safety. Our alliance with the Armada has not been called into question since Ren Cha-Fen took power, but the situation is nevertheless troubling. I have no particular inclination to involve myself in Bel-Dan politics, and if the alliance will be honoured by the Armada then we shall keep it - but it is distressing to see our friends driven from their homes. Of course, you are welcome in Henanda for as long as you wish to stay."

"Thank you, Great King. I doubt the new Reren - " she moved to spit as her mouth formed the last word, then thought better of spitting in the King's presence - " - may he meet with nought but trouble, I doubt he would be foolish enough to break the alliance." She took a long sip from her cup of wine. The King seemed unwilling to help her regain her position, but that just meant she would have to find allies elsewhere.

"I thank you greatly for your hospitality and your concern for me, for which I must repay you. If you will direct me to your sailors tomorrow, I will do what I can to improve them."

---

A Fiery Challenger

The Vygra are well known for their attendance at the courts of the other nations of Kiswa, their delegations always drawing attention with their rainbow of colors and variety of appearances. It is perhaps contrary to established expectations that a single ra walks into the town of Imālca. No attendees, assistants, or warriors accompany the young Efra. She stands nearly thirty hands high, and her sleeveless wrap tunic and skirt exhibit an athletic form. Her skin is like charcoal, veins glowing from within, with dark red hair pulled back in braided rows. A short spear of black iron and a bronze-bladed asca are strapped to her back and side, with a hide shield carried over her shoulder.

Rather than the stately calm pace of a Vygra diplomat, this ra strides with a purpose. Ignoring the merchant stalls and the baubles and refreshments hawked therein, she passes by Bannanda and foreigner alike. She stops only once on her way to the competition grounds, at the pavilion of the albino troll. Something in the smoke catches her eye, and she steps out of the street to inquire after her trade.

---
On reaching the competition, she announces herself with little ceremony, but great volume. "My name is Angna. I have come to challenge, and to be challenged. I will face any who wish to pit themselves against me." As she looks around the competitors, she picks out Kata, a familiar face from his upbringing in Farahabi. Though a few years older than she, he might recognize her from their youth in the Vygra city. Additionally, her gaze settles briefly on Nikara's fiery complexion; while unfamiliar personally, there is a kinship of elements present.

"For our host, I bring a gift!" Angna unfurls the bundle she carries, showing a full auroch hide of exceptional quality, and within, the pure-white fur of a great snow bear. "Our hunters work in groups of five to reap the aurochs of the plains. The hunters of the southern snows avoid the white bears when they number less than ten! These hides and furs I have taken alone, and brought that you might see the strength of my arm and the fire of my soul."

Spoiler: Angna inspiration

Show

Ren-Pera-Don watched the ra keenly as she announced herself, a smile spreading across his face. As she finished speaking, he stepped forward.

"Angna, I am Ren-Pera-Don, I am the Fish Who Shatters Bone! I challenge you, as I have challenged all the suitors of the Princess, to single combat!"

[mystic1110]

They Lost.

KaSi sulked back to their entourage who were wise enough not to say anything and get out of their way. None of them had seen the Warcaller in such a mood – usually they are friendly, boastful and gregarious, but the expression on their face right now was one of shame and misdirected anger. One of them tried to console KaSi, but KaSi shoved them hard to the ground as they stormed off.

. . .

Later, as KaSi was drinking to ease their sorrows and watching the younger men wrestle they spied Gusuhaz wrestling with Ren-Pera-Don. If KaSi was not drunk they would’ve admitted the younger man’s skill – Gusuhaz and Ren-Pera-Don were marvelous wrestlers who displayed great honor sportsmanship with their draw.

How KaSi hated them at that moment.

Throwing down their drink they stood up on wobbly legs and strode toward Gusuhaz. Grasping the younger man’s attire they harangued them, their usual poetic language broken with ire.

So you’re the King’s Favorite now?
Huh? You both think I’m too old? Washed up?
How dare you!
THE MUSES SING OF MY DEADS. MY NAME WILL NEVER BE FORGOTTEN!

KaSi punches Gusuhaz’s shoulder, challenging the younger Sewi to a duel for their lost pride, ignoring their initial prize of Arrēsa’s hand in marriage.

[Rolepgeek]

Ren-Pera-Don [Angna; Etelis & Arrēsa?]

“I’ll take your challenge, little Fish! D’ya think y’can take a troll?”

“I think the better question is whether you can face a Bel-Dan!” Ren-Pera-Don replied, laughing. “Weapons or wrestling – as challenger, you choose.”

“There’d be no point to th’thing if we just had t’pin th’other down, so whaddaya say we just go til’ one says give, eh? I’ll even forget usin’ anythin’ but my own two fists, t’let you have a fightin’ chance.” The troll laughs, and Onoynoyis shakes his head at his friend’s bravado, but says nothing.

---

Eneinghlizi kept their body low, arms ready before them, tail shifting, footsteps slow and shoulders relaxed. Ren-Pera-Don smirked as they swayed from side to side, dancing back and forth in and out of the troll’s long reach. After the first few lazy swipes were rewarded with bruised fingers, Eneinghlizi was more cautious.

Ren-Pera-Don becomes more aggressive continuously luring Eneinghlizi into striking at him and punishing it - the troll grows more and more hesitant to respond with each added bruise. Yet where Pera-Don believed he was leading the troll by the nose, he fast learns that he was also being led - Trolls are not impatient, after all - and the Dhraan moves with much greater speed than he'd yet displayed, knocking the pirate’s legs out from under him, then lifting his arms up to smash down with both fists - [COLOR="#0000FF"]“Wait!” the pirate cries, a note of fear in his voice. The moment of hesitation is all Pera-Don needs to roll away and back to his feet, energized again by the close call as fists larger than his head crash into the dirt, while Eneinghlizi hisses deep in his throat, frustrated at letting victory slip away.

Ren-Pera-Don is forced to go on the defensive as Eneinghlizi begins advancing, heavy arms slow to accelerate but unstoppable - they still collect numerous bruises, however, and Eneinghlizi’s lower jaw begins to hang open, drool collecting around his teeth, as the fight goes on. With how much that damned pirate was bouncing all over the place, he should have been exhausted by now! Instead, Ren-Pera-Don hardly seemed to break a sweat...Onoynoyis was supposed to have had a Bel-Dan father - was that the source of his legendary endurance, then? He was starting to slow down, his skin was aching, and the sun was merciless. If he wante - but the pirate was already moving in again! The troll lunged forward in response, arms throbbing as he went for a grab, but the pain made him slow, and he roared as the pirate’s club smashed into his fingers, ducking under the other arm and jumped up onto his shoulder, swinging himself over it and catching himself with his club - caught against Eneinghlizi’s throat. Grabbing the other end of the club, he yanked hard, and the Dhraan’s vocalizations turned to choking, one claw trying to pull the club away but unable to get a proper grip, the other clumsily to grab at Ren-Pera-Don and throw him off from where he was slung over the troll’s back, but the position was awkward, and a growing panic at his inability to breathe soon turned open hand to fist, smacking and batting at the pirate. Shaking himself from side to side, Eneinghlizi sputtered and hissed, movements gradually weakening, until Onoynoyis calls out to the pair from where he and Nikara had watched their match, “Stop!" The man's footsteps are heavy as he stalks towards the pirate, calling out again, "He is clearly beaten - take your victory and have done with it!"

“What’s that, troll? You give? Ah, well, worse luck,” the pirate chuckled as he slipped off Eneinghlizi’s back. “No entry to the palace for you!”

The troll staggers towards the river, rubbing at his throat with one hand and wheezing, Onoynoyis's face pale with concern. "'Noyis, you, ah - you make sure he's - that he'll be alright, okay? I, uh, I'll be - I'll be fine on my own, just - just for a bit. Just - I'll just - I'm gonna deal with, uh, the Fish Who - I can handle this guy, okay?" Nikara's gazes shifts between his companions and the pirate several times before settling on Ren-Pera-Don and formally issuing the challenge. "I - I'll take - er, I will be your next opponent."

“Let’s hope you fight better than you speak!” Ren-Pera-Don threw back his head and laughed. “Well, weapons or wrestling, you choose.”

"Then, uh, I, I, um, er - wrestling! I - I choose wrestling." Nikara releases a huff of frustration as he discards his cloak, stepping forward to meet his foe in the ring.

---

The human and the efryt circled each other in the ring, eyes flickering across their opponents. Ren-Pera-Don was the first to close, grabbing Nikara by the arms and twisting them away from his body. Nikara pulled one arm free, raising it to strike, but his indecision ruined him. Before he could decide where to aim his free fist, Ren-Pera-Don had flipped both of them onto the ground, and a cloud of dust rose into the air around them. Ren-Pera-Don threw himself towards Nikara, but the efryt rolled away just in time and rose, coughing from the dust.

They circled each other again, Ren-Pera-Don watching for an opportunity to strike, Nikara trying to predict the Bel-Dan’s next move. With a yell, Ren-Pera-Don launched himself forward, striking Nikara in the chest before he could respond, knocking the wind from him, and kicking the efryt’s legs out from under him. Nikara hit back as he fell, striking the pirate above the eye and stunning him long enough to roll away and regain his footing.

Nikara didn’t bother to circle again – he couldn’t predict the pirate’s movements, so there was really no point. He charged Ren-Pera-Don, locking arms once again and pushing backwards. The pirate pushed back just as hard, raised his head for a headbutt – and found himself sprawling on the ground as Nikara twisted aside and threw him to the ground. Instinctively the efryt dropped his knee onto the pirate’s neck, holding him face-down in the sand until the muffled words “I give!” filtered up to the ring.

Ren-Pera-Don sat up and coughed up sand. “Well fought, young stutterer. May you find what you wish behind the palace doors.” He stood and bowed exaggeratedly, directing Nikara up the steps. The young efryt was still breathing in the careful, measured way he fell into when it came to physical exertion. This composure falls apart when, after returning a simple nod to the pirate - he'd had his speech insulted enough for the time being - he notices Angna observing him and immediately begins blushing, the flush beginning in his cheeks and rapidly filling up the rest of his face before climbing his ears, invading the skin of his upper chest and shoulders, and even - noticeable as he turns and races up the steps of the palace, leather cloak forgotten just outside.

---

Neno [Dreamspeakers]

Onoynoyis was waiting at the tent by the time Neno reached it, smiling like an idiot, having slipped away from what he'd originally come to do - chaperone his friends to make sure they got into enough trouble to make an impression, but not so much they got seriously hurt. Once Eneinghlizi had entered the water, he'd recovered almost immediately, and waved off Onoynoyis to - Onoynoyis imagined - sulk for a bit. That was fine! He was a man now, boy no longer, and this would be a chance to prove himself without the smothering hand of his overprotective mother or the endless precautions of his mentor. As a boy, he'd heard of how two of these strange Blightspawn had been hunted in their own lairs and slain! How could he rightly be expected not to seek to do the same?

Staring at Neno as the aged hero approached, he said nothing aloud, but his eyes - his eyes said it all, to one as experienced in the world as Neno.

---

Eneinghlizi's sulking period had been rather brief considering the circumstances, he felt, and legitimate in any case besides. Beaten by a Bel-Dan half his size - pridefully refusing a weapon shown as mere hubris. Well, whatever. It gave him a chance to visit a tent near the merchants' pavilion, where he'd seen something he couldn't believe the first time he witnessed it. But no, it was clearly true - one who wore the mark of the Many-Mother, a Dhraanish woman scales as white like fresh-pulled milk, or something paler still. His approach was hesitant, but he did not have the same curse Nikara bore - Eneinghlizi was uncertain of what this all meant, not embarrassed about attention. Besides - they two were the only Dhraan he'd seen here, so it wasn't like he'd be able to escape her notice.

[Gaius Hermicus]

The Legend

Thank you, my beautiful princess. I shall do as you command. Bowing again to Arresa, Gusuhaz departs her presence and approached the formidable figure of Ocemis, the largest and most intimidating figure they had ever seen. Few things scared Gusuhaz, the hero of the Battle of Wogir, but the prospect of facing down such a warrior did not appeal. An idea came to Gusuhaz, a possible way around this quandary emerged.
Oh mighty Ocemis, said Gusuhaz as they knelt before the hero, O mighty Ocemis, songs are sung of your heroism! I know I could never defeat you, warrior though I am, but I must instead ask a favor of you. The tales of your conquests are well known; it is said that no woman could ever resist your advances. Not all of us are so gloriously endowed, but yet I must beg you, oh great Ocemis, be as magnanimous as you are mighty, and help one lesser than you accomplish a conquest of their own. All that I desire from you, O generous Ocemis, is the aquamarine stone you claimed from your travels in the south. Please, oh starry-eyed hero, I know that I deserve nothing from you, but for the memory of all the women that you have loved over the years, I hope that you will find it in you to grant me this token to give to my love, and I will be indebted to you for the rest of my days.

The Challenger

Reluctantly, Gusuhaz drops into a fighting stance. Kasiy, mighty Warcaller, I have no desire to fight you! Next to you, I am a pale nobody, invisible beneath the shadow of your greatness. I could never outshine you, sun-bright Kasiy! Kasiy lunged at Gusuhaz, who deflected the blow but did not try an attack of their own. The two circled one another, Kasiy furiously, Gusuhaz cautiously. Again Kasiy tried to grab Gusuhaz, and again the younger warrior evaded the blow. Enraged, Kasiy gave up on attempting to wrestle and hurled a furious barrage of blows at Gusuhaz, which he blocked or dodged, letting Kasiy tire themself out. At last, Gusuhaz reluctantly grabbed Kasiy's flailing arms and forced the older hero to their knees. Let it go, Warcaller. We are of the same kin, and there should be no cause for quarrel between us.

[mystic1110]

Another loss, another humiliation.

On their knees in front of the younger human, KaSi is huffing and puffing, red faced and their veins budging and blue against the leather of their aged skin. How had they fallen so low? The song they composed for this event was entirely different. In the epic poem KaSi wrote, KaSi entered this tournament and prevailed against all challengers, King Etelis proud to name them an heir and the beautiful Arrēsa throwing herself at their feet. Yegin would applaud KaSi’s triumph and they would both become elevated even further in society.

Instead, it all went to ****.

First, they lost to an old man and now, they lost against Gusuhaz.

Worst of all both the old man and Gusuhaz pitied them.

KaSi could understand hatred, they could understand odium and loathing, but they could not stand, could not fathom the twist of the knife that was pity. KaSi felt the metal in their heart as pity’s dagger carved at their very soul.

KaSi seethed and stood up and ran over to another warrior holding a spear. KaSi pushed the warrior down grabbing the spear and in one motion turned back towards Gusuhaz. Lifting the spear KaSi yells:

SCREAM O’MUSES
I WILL NOT STAND PITY
WASH AWAY SHAME WITH BLOOD

KaSi throws the spear.

[Gaius Hermicus]

Upon hearing Kasiy's shout, Gusuhaz turned back to see what the Warcaller was doing. That half-spin saved their life, as the spear that would have pierced their heart instead plunged into the flesh beneath their rib cage. Nonetheless, the pain was horrific, and Gusuhaz was unable to keep themself from groaning in agony as the numbness of the impact began to fade and the waves of pain fell on them. Yanking the spear from their body, they took a step towards Kasiy before collapsing to the ground.

Farther away, Wenid Kw'Muketi heard the upheaval and turned to glance at what had happened. What they saw chilled them to the bones: Kasiy raging, knife in hand, toward Gusuhaz, who was bleeding out in the dirt. I can't believe it. You're right! they said to Rosie MacGill, shock evident in their eyes. I never thought for a moment Kasiy and Yegin would have betrayed me, yet here the evidence is, clear as day! Without giving Rosie a chance to respond, they raced to intercept the deranged Warcaller, flanked by their bodyguards, one of whom tossed a spear to the King of Kings as they ran.

Stop! shouted Wenid as they reached Kasiy's side. Stand down, Kasiy. You have one chance to throw down your weapons and explain yourself before I decide that you and Yegin Kw'Haleti are traitors and sentence you both to death.

[mystic1110]

Confronted by their king Wenid’s word did not sink in initially. KaSi was finally feeling triumphant. The success of their spear throw seemed to throw their prior losses into the shade. The conniving upstart was down on the ground and KaSi thought that the feeling that now infused them was glory. It was not – they would soon learn that it was the rancid honey of infamy; sweet at first for it tastes like fame, but it is spoiled and rotten and causes the teeth of all who partake to fall out, their skin to blister and peel away, and they eyes to grow white with the reflection of others’ sneers.

Turning towards Wenid the first words that escaped their mouth came out as an angry poem – their blood still hot in their veins, the thought of a fresh kill giving them bravery and stupidity both.

Explain O’Muses
That it is your Majesty that owes an Answer
You dare replace us with these young upstarts?

KaSi’s entourage is doing its best to blend into the background and make themselves invisible.

Expose O’Muses
Yegin and I placed you on your throne
But are our names to be forgotten in old age?

Elucidate O’Muses
One could die a Hero, But if one lives long
They see themselves made a Fool!

Yelling these poems seems to calm down the old Warcaller and maybe even bring them to their senses. In fact one could see the blood and vitality, what little was left, drain away from their face – as the sun began to set, KaSi looked like a ghost of a man, raging at the dying of the light. Still, the words were said, and now as better senses began to reassert themselves in KaSi, they were not that much of a coward to not stand by their true feelings. They straightened up and awaited the King’s judgement.

It seemed the song of KaSi was destined to be a tragedy, may their name never be forgotten.

[Tychris1]

She huffed her pipe once more. Today was a good day. A day of simple pleasures and longing hearts. Wandering eyes fell to her and the Lair she called her own. ”Fear not, my child. You wander far but come back home. Jewels plucked out from the wild. All here for you with just a loan.” She smiled as the meek Dhraan approached, a hunger twinkling in her eye, and her throat puffed up briefly with the motion. “Mother Moon, my children call me.”

[Aedilred]

Onagis, the Spear of the Sun

So many foreigners here. That did not bother Onagis; it was merely a greater audience for his own inevitable triumph. The might of the Azipāra had been overlooked for two long, ever since the humiliation of the Eagle-Men. But that was generations ago. It was time for them to reclaim their place as the most feared among the tribes, and he was the man to do it.

Having strutted around the camp to establish his territory, with his entourage following behind him providing vocal support, he decided it was time to lay down a marker by winning a race. He had done this before many times in the territory of his home tribe, so surely this would be a doddle... or not. The rougher terrain here made it harder going, and while his courage could not be faulted, the frame broke beneath him, leaving him trailing in the mud. Dirtied and somewhat bruised, he returned to the camp, where his followers looked at the ground, unable to say anything positive, and thus reluctant to say anything at all.

Wé-Jom-I

The army of the Weyrá might have been dashed against the shields of the Bannanda, but the spirit in the heart of the Wey-Dong-O remained strong, and Wé-Jom-I was here to prove it. And if he was able to carry the princess home with him to his own people, so much the better.

After seeing Onagis's performance at the race, he stepped up to try himself. After all, he was shorter and lighter than the Bannanda, which would surely be an advantage? Not so. It seems that experience is also valuable, and he was dashed from the frame while barely out of sight of the starting line.

As he returned, Onagis's spirits improved, and his flunkies jeered at the returning Wey-Dong.

The Legend
Oh mighty Ocemis, said Gusuhaz as they knelt before the hero, O mighty Ocemis, songs are sung of your heroism! I know I could never defeat you, warrior though I am, but I must instead ask a favor of you. The tales of your conquests are well known; it is said that no woman could ever resist your advances. Not all of us are so gloriously endowed, but yet I must beg you, oh great Ocemis, be as magnanimous as you are mighty, and help one lesser than you accomplish a conquest of their own. All that I desire from you, O generous Ocemis, is the aquamarine stone you claimed from your travels in the south. Please, oh starry-eyed hero, I know that I deserve nothing from you, but for the memory of all the women that you have loved over the years, I hope that you will find it in you to grant me this token to give to my love, and I will be indebted to you for the rest of my days.

Ocemis looked down at the kneeling Gusuhaz and tried to resist smiling, and then glanced at the ring on his finger.

"In honour of your great spirit in asking this of me," he said, "I would grant you this gift, but there are two others who have a claim on it. My daughter, who stands to inherit it, and Fulji Aruni of the Vygra, in whose honour I carry it as a token of friendship. If each of them grants permission, I will give you this ring."

Kata and Ecimōnā

On hearing the news, Ocēmis ran from his nephew's house down through the streets into the shanty town where the contests were taking place. It did not take him long to locate the two squaring off against each other, the situation obvious. If somebody did not intervene, one of them would be putting something in the other, and they would be lucky if it were only a spear.

He grabbed one of the spectators. "and ononandīs Konārm chamteth, chēth Kata?" The man nodded mutely, eyes wide.

Ocēmis stepped between the two young people, grabbing Ecimōnā's spear and pushing it upwards. "tihosi! mecēbas gangobā"

Ecimōnā tried to snatch her spear back, but her father's grip was strong. "mod? mall?" she cried.

"endīsc antinith."

She stared at him in disbelief for a moment, and then looked round him at Kata. Ocēmis turned to face the young warrior. "Do you remember me, boy?"

Onagis and Wé-Jom-I

The cruel jeering had not gone unnoticed, and Wé-Jom-I issued a challenge to face his tormentor in the ring, in a wrestling bout. This would surely be straightforward, Onagis assumed, for his height and reach gave him a great advantage. But Wé-Jom-I was more cunning than he had given him credit for, and his lower centre of gravity made it difficult to trip him. As Onagis pushed downwards, trying to force him to the earth, Wé-Jom-I shifted his weight and lunged forward, jabbing at Onagis's legs, trying to bring the bigger man down. After several minutes without a victor, the two separated, eyeing each other up with no affection.

"We should settle this with weapons," Wé-Jom-I said, and Onagis's followers whooped as he grinned in response. One of them handed Onagis a spearstaff and a club, while Wé-Jom-I took delivery of the same.

Onagis leapt forward, stabbing at his opponent's face, while Wé-Jom-I staggered backwards, caught off guard. He deflected the spear to his left, and tried to lock it under his arm, while struggling to bring his own spear to bear. But Onagis was too quick for him, and released his own spear to take a two-handed hold of his club. He cracked the first blow down on Wé-Jom-I's forearm, then, as the Wey-Dong screamed in pain, stepped in and hammered a second blow to his abdomen. The winded young man fell to the ground, nursing his broken arm, as Onagis turned to take the acclaim of his gang.

Yelling these poems seems to calm down the old Warcaller and maybe even bring them to their senses. In fact one could see the blood and vitality, what little was left, drain away from their face – as the sun began to set, KaSi looked like a ghost of a man, raging at the dying of the light. Still, the words were said, and now as better senses began to reassert themselves in KaSi, they were not that much of a coward to not stand by their true feelings. They straightened up and awaited the King’s judgement.

It seemed the song of KaSi was destined to be a tragedy, may their name never be forgotten.

Onodīs stood back from the confrontation, a group of spearmen at his back. This was exactly what they had feared in having so many delegates present, and the insult to his brother's hospitality should not stand unavenged, but this was an act of treachery and the blemmyae seemed willing to deal with it themselves. Better to let them resolve the situation and only step in if the matter escalated or other guests were threatened.

He gestured to Gusuhaz and two of his men rushed over to tend to his wound, while another ran to fetch the healers.

[Gaius Hermicus]

I would never have believed it possible, Kasiy, said Wenid sadly. You were always a friend to me, and in truth I trusted your word above anybody's other than that of Yegin themself. But this outburst... Wenid stares at the ground. You leave me no choice, Kasiy. Even if you had not been part of some conspiracy, this grasping for glory over your own kinspeople is a danger to my own safety, and I cannot suffer you in my presence any longer. For a moment, Wenid is silent, then appears to muster up their courage.

Kasiy Kw'Sewi, I hereby strip you of the title Warcaller of the Korebita, and all your lesser titles. For the crime of attempted murder and selfish pursuit of glory, I must sentence you to death. But I do not want to pass this sentence. If I release you into exile, as would be my preferred option, I cannot be certain that you will not return to take your vengeance on my in future. Thus I shall offer you the traditional choice of those sentenced to execution, as is your right. If you choose, you may request an exemption from the sentence, but execution is a noble end, and I shall not try to persuade you away from it.

[Potato_Priest]

The Execution of KaSi K'Sewi
Jogging up behind Wenid on her short legs, Rosie MacGill smirked to hear the King of Kings turn against KaSi K'Sewi. She put on a more solemn face to address the young ruler, however.

"A just sentence, Wenid. With yer leave, I'll follow yer lead and offer the other two conspirators in my custody the same. Only the matter of Yegin Kw'Haleti remains. Surely they will not take the execution of their second without retribution."

Onoynoyis

Neno sat down cross-legged on the floor of his tent, patting the ground next to him and inviting Onoynoyis to join him.

"Hello, young man. Have you come to join the expedition against the blight?"