[Continued] - Harrowing Festival - 1 VC - Vaul

[Keehnelf]

Abi Sadira watches the elf with a white face. She is anxious and it shows as she climbs the wire, hoping not to win the competition but simply to complete a pass. Her nervousness gets the best of her, however, and halfway across the wire she falls into the net. She seems to breath a sigh of relief at the possibility that she will not be forced to climb the pole again.

Lug: points 2, falls 1
Vaul: points 0, falls 2
Wendall: points 0, falls 2
Valorei: points 0, falls 2
Abi: points 0, falls 2
Varas: points 2, falls 0

The crowd falls to a hush at the preparation of Varas, the undisputed front-runner to this point, the only contestant who has not yet fallen.

[MonkeyWrench]

After Abi crawls from the net Valorei offers her a handshake, "It would seem that we are not suited to rope walking, ha! I am Valorei, it is a pleasure to meet you." After meeting Abi and exchanging pleasantries Valorei will watch Varas.

[AleBelly]

Varas steps to the platform. If he understands the rules, he just needs to cross to stay in the lead. He intends to do so, but (as usual) his pride and ego get the better of him. Just before performing a simple crossing, he pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and blindfolds himself!

Perhaps creeping about in the dark has served him well. Despite a gust of wind, he never falters as he crosses. He removes his blindfold with a face-splitting grin.

Varas crossing with rope trick [1d20+2] = 2+2 = 4

[KingOfCowards]

With more than half the competitors already eliminated from the tightrope without crossing, Bertram loses interest in the competition when his friend Abi falls. He grabs two more mugs of Ghrym's finest for himself and Adrienne. After a few drinks he can be heard boasting that he is the fastest man in Vaul, and challenges anyone to prove him wrong in a foot race.

[Scott308]

Dorvar stands and applauds, cheering loudly for his friend. Yay, Varas! Way to go! Varas the... Guy Who Doesn't Fall! Somebody else'll come up with a better name. Yay, Varas!

[Mister-Kent]

Radiant Olympia places her hands to her face and hollers. "Whoop whoop!" she cheers on Varas excitedly.

[Starbeard]

Seadu Erana, having just recently situated himself in town and stowed away his things in his new lodgings, wanders about the festival, taking in the sights. After some wandering he finds himself before a crowd of enthused onlookers cheering on the tall and gangly Varas.
'Great Breath of Veles! Look at that man go, he scrambles along that rope like a rat!' Forgetting himself for a moment, he gets swept up in the cheer and applause.

As he goes for another drink, a man begins accosting him to beat him in a foot race. He puts up his hands meekly. 'Dorvar, you say? No, I would not want to compete against you, I can already see you would have me beat—but… well, why not, let's race! I imagine the wine is making me foolhardy, but I feel like doing something a bit impetuous while I am still new in town.'

Rolling up his sleeves and tightening his sandals, Seadu's sense of reckless enterprise begins to twinkle in his eyes. 'But let's make it a bit interesting: a harmless wager of 1 gold piece to the winner. What do you say?'

[KingOfCowards]

"Dorvar? He's the dwarf who won the wrestling competition. Nay, Bertram be my name.", the bearded warrior gives Seadu a quick look over, clearly not impressed but suspicious if this is some trick. He laughs it off with another swig of ale, "A gold piece? That's fine by me. I could use the money."

Bertram hands off his mug, wipes his mouth, and begins to disrobe himself of his belongings, before he cracks his knuckles and stretches his back.

Keehnelf, is there a clearly marked field nearby that they might estimate would be a mile or two, there and back?

[Keehnelf]

There's a tree growing near a rough outcropping of stone directly north of town that is roughly three quarters of a mile out and a clear landmark.

[KingOfCowards]

"To the tree and back, then?", Bertram inquires of the monk, as his pre-race preparations are just about finished.

[Keehnelf]

Now that we're down to two contestants in the high-wire contest, let me clarify and reiterate the rules to help things proceed hitchless from this point.

You only get points for your highest-value pass. Other passes can keep you in the game, but they do not by themselves get you closer to winning.

As we begin the current round, Lug and Varas both have 2 points for their highest passes. At the end of the round, only those tied for the highest score will advance. Thus, if Lug succeeds on a 3-point pass and Varas either falls or only successfully attempts a lesser pass, Lug will advance. Alternately, if Lug succeeds at a three-point pass, Varas will proceed if he makes a 3-point pass or eliminate Lug by completing a successful 4-point pass.

Thanks, all!

Take it away, Lug!

[Zhym]

Lug frowns slightly as he hears the crowd chanting Varas's name. The big man isn't just losing the contest, he's losing the hearts and minds of the people! He simply must speak to the bard about that.

But for the moment, there's a contest to be won. "Go big," he always says. Some people add something about home to that statement, but for Lug, "Go big" has always been the only option. Time for something spectacular.

He climbs up the pole and stands in front of the wire. He spreads his arms, waits for the crowd to go silent with anticipation, then springs across the line in a triple backwards one-handed somersault, nailing a perfect landing that shakes the platform under his weight.

"Top THAT!" he shouts with a big smile on his face.

Lug, high-wire, 3x trick move (Dex: 14-6): [1d20] = 1

That should put Lug at 4 points and 1 fall.

[Keehnelf]

Wow, what a move!

[AleBelly]

Varas is steamed as Lug steals his cheers. He climbs to the platform and attempts several tricks, none of which he's ever tried before. He steps off from the platform, blindfolded again. He attempts to jump off the rope and catch himself with his hands, but his grip falters and he bounces into the net. He lay there for a minute or two, collecting his thoughts.

[Zhym]

Lug trots over to the netting and offers Varas a hand. "Well played," he says. "I was starting to wonder if you knew how to fly! Guess gravity gets us all one way or the other. Can I buy you an ale?"

[Keehnelf]

The Duke comes over to Lug and catches him before he manages to depart with Varas. Under the sound of the bellowing of the crowd, he offers a few quiet words of thanks and sincere surprise at the agility of such a mammoth of a man. He offers Lug a small worked pair of silver wings with the numeral 1 engraved in the middle, and pins it to the giant's shirt front before sending him on his way with a smile.

[Keehnelf]

2:50pm

Since Jem was engrossed with his brother's high-wire antics and wandered off with him when his turn was complete, the Story-Telling competition is down to only two contestants: Zampari and Constance Wyrdweather. The Duke scours the crowd looking for more to participate in this activity so that it does not need to be called off for lack of entrants. Even one more should be sufficient.

[Zhym]

Could we get an idea of the mechanics of this contest? As anyone in my games will attest, I suck at story-telling, but maybe one of my characters wouldn't.

[Keehnelf]

You write a story for flavor, mostly, to add to the lore of the world, then you make an INT test and a CHA test for your character.

Success on neither test is a flop.

Success on one test is either telling an interesting story, or telling a timeworn tale well, depending on which you succeed at.

Success on both is telling an interesting tale in a compelling way.

These are the tiers of success, in order. If the top competitors are tied in number of successes, degree of success total is what determines the winner (i.e. if top two are one success apiece, and one failed a roll by 7 and succeeded by 5 on the other, their degree of success would be -2. The other, if they succeeded by 4 on one roll and failed by 1 on the other, would have a degree of success of +3).

One round of rolls, and if the ultimate result is a tie, then it is such a subjective thing that it's too close to call.

[Starbeard]

Seadu extends his hand to shake with Bertram. 'Agreed. But let me give my legs a short stretch first. Should we agree on a neutral caller?' He gives his knees a few good bends to limber up as he looks around for a suitable candidate to call the race.

"Dorvar? He's the dwarf who won the wrestling competition. Nay, Bertram be my name.

Whoops! I knew that! I must have had a mind slip while reading two posts at once.