Chapter 1: Year 1281, Summer

Tanford laughs as Ci offers a chance to witness the pop-up wrestling match.

I've seen a few of these street shows. They almost always have some lackey in the field that agree to challenge the other one, only to have some miraculous work let the hero win. But sure, lets go watch the circus, huh. May be fun! he quips, leading the Aven over to the fray, squeezing through the crowd as the big lizard-headed man staggers slightly, looking about strangely. Just as he does so, the dwarf manages to get turned around and secures a grip on the larger man's neck. He kicks his feet into the air, and swings down, trying to pull the big man down to the mat with a fancy take down.

With a heavy grunt, he manages to haul Spoony to the mat, scrambling to try securing a pin against his now prone opponent.

Just as he gets on his back, he manages to dig his heels into Spoony's side, sitting up cheering his success at pinning the big man!
Initiative! Bold below can act now.
Spoony
Dwarf
Spectators

Spoony tries desperately to get up from the ground, but the wily Sparksteel dwarf has dug in his heels just too well, coupled with the massive shot on the goliath's ears earlier give him a hard time. He tries to escape the pin and cannot! The dwarf stands on Spoony's back, triumphant in his victory.

Was a good tussle, Scalelover. You've never met a deep miner though, have ye? He says as he steps off and holds a hand out to the massive man, offering to help him up. M'name's Hosterlig Undershaper. Good to meet you - umm - lizardman?

Vadath, throughout the lead up to the fight, a fair amount of cash came in. All told, about 123 gold and 9 silver worth of bets came in.

Hosterlig grabs the bag from the air and chuckles at Spoony. He stands around after securing the cash in one of his pouches.

Insects? I don't fight dirty bub. I just grew up hard, and grew up strong. Been mining since this one's parents were a gleam in his grandparent's eyes, neh? Either way, I'm set for my work. Just made foreman in the Vein. he says, glancing just a touch at Vlur's vanishing complexion. Look, you two seem a good lot, and Shannout there is a good scrapper. You ever decide to find honest work, you may want to check in down at Headquarters. I think old man Sparksteel is starting to realize he has to look outside the clans to keep up with the adamantine demands you savvy?

As the dwarf makes combatant pleasantries, Tanford and Ci make it up near to where Marie-Louise is now standing. Uriel, the crowd starts to disperse, you can see the short little girl over by where the ring had been set up. A host of citizens start meandering through the square. Dwarves in workers clothes, others in silk and velvet regalia. You hear someone start to holler about making space on one side of the square. An elf in a floor-length black coat with purple vest underneath walks easily through the crowd, ignoring those around him. Birds fly overhead, as the summer breeze stiffens, blowing through the open courtyard. With the wrestling match fading, the din of the nearest bazaar square, some 400 feet away spins back to its normal cacophony of vendors hawking wears.

Through the crowd, a handful of children run and dash through the crowd, laughing. People bump against one another, and against you.

You see a man in a purple cloak with green and black trim, tattered to the point of being more holes than it is material, run up to the elf in the long coat and begin to babble at him. It's too far off to hear anything in particular, but you can see a look of disgust smear itself across the elf's face. As he raises a hand to brush aside the raggedy looking person before him, a curved spectral blade, like that of a scythe, bursts forth from his chest as another man, in similar regalia as the raggedy interloper but with an inky black hood pulled over his head, shimmers into existence about 25 feet behind the elf.

The black-coated man looks down, hands trying to grasp the shadowy blade but passing through entirely. He looks up, a stunned wide-eyed stare replacing the look of disgust from moments earlier. As he looks up, the raggedy man moves, more deliberately than he had been, a naked scimitar glinting in the summer sun, sweeping across the elf's neck, sending a great torrent of crimson blood spraying into the air as the lean faced elven head sails away, bouncing just slightly as it hits the ground.

The wildly grinning man in the better purple cloak laughs and begins yelling aloud, Fhaagathra! Phl'gw'nathi crwlagrah C'thalet Pwgra nghsossotha!Combat Time! Bold below can act now.
Vlur
Raggedy Man
Marie-Louise
Ci
Black-Hooded Man
Uriel
Shannout