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Tales of Faerun


AurianaValoria1

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The judges eliminated the three worst shots - two young human boys and a halfling - and pulled the targets back from the competitors, doubling the distance. Conall noticed that the pale elf was now standing next to Nawen, his complexion a start contrast to that of the drow's.

 

The announcer ordered the competitors to fire again, and Conall's shot landed just outside center this time, a slight bit to the left. It wasn't the best, but at least it wasn't the worst.

 

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Rhaine nodded to Weyland, Arland, and Amendale, "We could use the help, certainly. Just a moment and I'll get the practice lances."

 

The Doomguide then turned to the newcomer...a man from the Unapproachable East, it seemed. Her emerald eyes squinted at him from under the shadow of her visors, "We usually welcome new company, but who exactly are you to make such a request? We do not know each other, do we?"

 

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Quarylene suddenly pulled her Nightmare to a sliding stop and shushed Ravenna with a sharp hiss. Her keen ears as a drow could hear quite well in these tunnels, and her vampirism magnified it tenfold. She heard a strange presence coming towards them, picking up speed as it sensed organic matter ahead.

 

Slide...squelch...slide...squelch....slide

 

"Be careful what you wish for, Devil Queen," the drow vampire growled, drawing her weapons, "I hope you know how to handle a gelatinous cube!"

 

It came into view ahead of them, a giant mass of blue-green tinted gel that completely blocked the corridor, a few rusted weapons and shields leftover from recently digested prey suspended in its hulking, quivering "body."

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"No, we do not know each other. As to who I am to make such a request... I am but a servant. I just wish to do my part in your grand mission of..." Horo paused a moment, realizing he didn't quite know he was signing on for.

 

"Your mission. I am bladesman of great renown in my native land, and I have no doubt that you cannot fail if I was to join you."

 

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Ozan had yet to return, placing him in a rather disadvantageous position. Still, Hasim was more than capable of tapping into the divine flame of Kossuth.

 

He raised his hands, creating the twining flame symbol of Kossuth from fire in the air. The symbol blazed brighter and brighter before Hasim pushed it forth where it formed a flame wall between the gelatinous monstrosity and his troop.

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"Right then, grab your stuff and let's go." Arland said.

 

They moved over to what would in several days become the location of the joust. For now, however, it was empty save for a few people enjoying meals, or passed out drunk. Arland wished he was one of the latter, but the day was still young.

 

"Rhaine, may as well head over to that end, Az should stay here. Somehow I don't think Bob feels like cooperating today." Arland directed, pointing casually. "Let me know when you're ready so I can watch you try and kill each other." To himself he thought go Az!

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Azuris let out a sigh before getting up. "Fine, I'm gonna regret this later I know." He said as he started over to the jousting area.

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Hidden among the judges, Tannin seemed to be doing everything in his power to eliminate the more skilled competitors to clear a path for Nawen especially. He had managed to use a charm spell on the other judges, making them value his opinion as though he were a lifelong friend, and as the rounds went on, any competitor that Tannin thought would completely eclipse Nawen in skill (or those who's eyes lingered on Nawen for too long) found themselves brought before the judges on the charges of using magical items which may improve their aim.

With the judges charmed it was easy for Tannin to convince them that an amulet, or ring on the person in question's body was in fact, enchanted to give them an edge on the competition. So one could imagine that Tannin was rather surprised the couple of times he was actually right, and the charged actually confessed and produced an item that aided them, had he a working conscience this would have made Tannin feel better about using this less than sportsmanlike tactic, but as it was he never really cared for "fair play".

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As the rounds went on, the number of competitors dwindled considerably...mostly due to Tannin's intervention more than the skill of the marksmen. Ultimately, only Conall, Nawen, and that strange pale elf were left. All of them were brilliant archers, but this final round would prove who was the best of them all.

 

The target was far enough to give Conall pause. Nawen appeared undaunted, as always, and so did the moon elf. The paladin was the first of the three to fire...

 

...and his shot completely missed the target. It was simply too far to make. There was a collective groan from the audience as the arrow went sailing past it, followed by hearty applause for Conall's making it this far. Though he was disappointed in himself, he was glad to see that Nawen still stood a chance at winning. Something told the werewolf that it would do the drow good if she won.

 

She had plenty of competition in the pale moon elf, who was next to fire. Like most of his shots in the competition, his arrow landed just outside of center, slightly higher than perfect. He smiled a bit when the audience applauded him, though he seemed far more interested in the drow next to him, an eager curiosity in his silvery eyes.

 

At last, Nawen made her own shot. There was a gasp and moment of silence before the crowd leapt to its feet.

 

It was a bullseye.

 

The announcer's voice was drowned out by the standing ovation, but he said nothing that they didn't already know. He happily clapped the elf on her shoulder, seemingly oblivious to her race as he handed her the prize purse of money.

 

Five hundred gold pieces.

 

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Rhaine raised an eyebrow at the stranger, "I will think on it. My companions and I are a bit busy at the moment. In the meantime, perhaps it would also do you good to think of a proper introduction to give me later."

 

She turned and untethered Azrael, checking his tack before leading him to the empty tournament grounds where Weyland, Arland, and Amendale awaited. Removing the practice lances from her Bag of Holding, she gave them to Weyland and Arland, then swung herself into the saddle. Taking one of the lances, she flipped down her visors and headed to the opposite end of the grounds as directed, letting herself settle into her horse's long, loping stride.

 

The Doomguide could feel an eagerness building up in Azrael's muscles, his mouth working around the bit in anticipation of the joust. As she turned him around sharply, she waited on Amendale's signal to charge...one hand keeping Azrael in check, the other holding her lance braced against her stirrup. There was barely any sound but her own breathing as she focused past the narrow eye slits, trying to remember the most important points she had learned about the sport. A faint roar of cheering could be heard in the distance, and she wondered who had won the archery competition...

 

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Quarylene pulled her Nightmare around and moved behind Ravenna and her friend. Normal weapons would do no good against the cube. Raw magic would work best...and that was something she no longer possessed.

 

"Don't get too close!" she shouted in warning, "It will paralyze you and then digest you...quite an agonizing process, or so I've heard."

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Arland twirled the lance in his hand, accidentally clocking Weyland in the back of the head and knocking him on his face.

 

"Uh, whoops." He said.

 

"URFMMMPH!" Weyland scolded, before he stood up, spitting sand.

 

Arland waited until Azuris and Rhaine were in position, before he raised the lance. "Alright, get ready!" He brought it downwards through the air and almost pulled himself over. "Charge! Please, by all means, go for the head!"

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At first Nawen was staring blankly at the pouch of gold in her hands and at the same time listening to the cheers and applause. It didn't take long for her to realize...

 

"I won!"

 

A smile spread across her lips at the thought. She had never won anything in her life, aside from a few fights but that was a different matter. She competed against excellent archers, some were much better than her but she still won!

 

"I can't believe it!" She exclaimed happily as she jumped up and down like an excited little girl. The drow received some disapproving looks but she didn't care.

 

As she continued showing her happiness she kept looking around for Tannin. It was because of him that she was able to compete and she wanted to repay him for this in some way. She then noticed Conall, ran up to him and hugged the fellow ranger but then she thought that her happiness might seem like gloating so she stepped back.

 

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean... I hope I haven't offended you." She said.

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Conall shook his head and grinned, patting Nawen on the shoulder, "No worries, lass. You haven't offended me in the least. Congratulations on your well-deserved win."

 

The pale elf walked over and half-bowed to the drow, a slight smile on his face, "Allow me to congratulate you as well. You performed admirably."

 

The elf's voice was, again, quite startlingly deep for an elf. However, he took Conall's look of surprise to be a result of his lack of introduction, and he half-bowed again, "My sincere apologies. I have forgotten to introduce myself to you both. Please excuse me, as my time amongst the more....civilized cultures has been short. I am called Argyros."

 

The paladin inclined his head politely, "No need to apologize, Argyros. I am Conall Whitefang, and this is Nawen. A pleasure to meet you."

 

"Likewise," Argyros's smile broadened, "It is good to meet those who are not so...sensitive, as it were. I have had some trouble with humans in the not-so-distant past. Perhaps I overlooked a few things in my studies of the race, but I would hope my mistakes, as trivial as they are, could easily be forgiven."

 

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At Arland's shout, Azrael could not be held back any longer. The black warhorse reared up and plunged forward, his long strides quickly gaining speed; his great hooves plowed up chunks of soil as they dug into the ground with his weight. Time seemed to slow for Rhaine as she lowered her lance and tucked it under her arm, aiming straight at Azuris's shield. She sunk herself deep in the saddle and braced herself for the upcoming impact...

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Ravenna growled, shifting her weight back into the saddle and pulling sharply on the reins, the hellish stallion came to a halt before the hulking mass of putrescent gelatine. The Devil Queen's face bore a disgusted snarl, looking upon the revolting creature as one would gaze upon a slug.

 

Readying a ball of hellfire in her golden palm, Ravenna watched as the slime recoiled (if such an action was possible for a blob of gunge) as Hasim's wall of fire flickered against it's body. Smiling, she released her own spell and scorched the creature as the conjured ball of hellish flame exploded brilliantly upon contact. The slime seemed to shrink as it's gelatinous exterior burnt, evaporating the congealed blue-green liquid that made up it's mass.

 

It was not done in yet though, and this development forced a scowl from Ravenna- her spell had not obliterated the creature, so it meant that she would have to employ more destructive methods.

 

Remembering a spell learnt in her Thayan youth, Ravenna readied yet another fire based attack, Aganazzar's scorcher, and prepared to cast. Clenching her fist as the spell worked it's way to the surface, fiery wisps spinning gently around her hand, she opened up her fingers to release a searing gout of arcane fire. Spraying forth like a jet of super-heated water, the orange flames hit the first face of the blue cube. Spreading like ink in a bowl of water, the arcane flames slowly engulfed their prey.

 

The cube was further reduced in it's size, and a pungent smell of burnt putridity filled the cavernous air.

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Disappearing as mysteriously as he appeared, the fifth judge from a far away land was nowhere to be found after Nawen received her reward, the other judges searched high and low but no sign of the strange man could be found.

Tannin however made his reappearance by walking up directly behind Nawen and leaning slightly towards her. "So what'd I miss?" He asked wearing a mischievous smirk. "Sorry, hard night drinking, woke up with a throbbing head, couldn't handle the crowd, had to leave. You'll forgive me won't you my lady?" He said to her as his smirk grew into a grin.

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The gall of it all, who in the hells did he think he was? How dare this stable-born mule challenge him? HIM! Bred to carry Paladins across the fields of battle and war. His opponent bore no scars of battle, no proof of his deeds, Bob couldn't wait for his rider to crush the woman upon Azrael, the lame donkey thought himself a war horse, he merely adopted war, but Bob was born in it, molded by it, and did not see green pastures until he was already a stallion! Bob did not wait for Azuris's word, he knew his rider would be ready, he knew he would be victorious.

.

..

...

Azuris swore up and down between his pained breaths after Rhaine's lance smashed into his shield. His entire left side felt as if it were shattered beyond repair and he found it difficult to breath. Bob's sudden start had caught him off guard and he was unable to settle himself before Rhaine's lance connected, he hadn't even readied his own before they connected. He leaned forward in the saddle with a groan as Bob neighed angrily at what he felt was his rider's incompetence.

"How bout next time you wait till I tell you to go hmm?" He said, wincing as he did. "Not as fast as I used to be ya know." He grumbled to his horse as the horse grumbled to his rider.

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