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Player's Guide Places People History Beliefs

 
 


Shifting Alliances
Well, these past few days have certainly been unexpected.

The day after the strange woman came to me, the matches were drawn for the tournament. I was slated to cross swords with the fop in the first match. His name is Islan. He carried a beautiful white bastard sword he by all rights should not have been able to lift. He actually requested time to prepare. Okay, he has a sword and I have a sword. He doesn't look like a magic user. And I am not going to give him any ground. I'm nervous too. So nervous that I hesitate as the match starts.

He wiggles his hands and then pulls out that sword. He got a lucky shot in off the bat. I realized then that I may have underestimated him. I redoubled my efforts and sliced into his hide. I know I hurt him bad. From our exertions the crystal fell out of his shirt. I managed to snap the chain but instead of flinging it away, it fell to the ground. I took a nasty swipe but I managed to fall on the crystal. When I closed my hand around it I felt rejuvinated. I tucked it away and the feeling left. Islan shook me and yelled in my face but I never gave him the words of giving up.

When I woke, the bald companion Jacques was speaking to the referee, telling him that I had stolen a jewel. Realizing that the man had frisked me as I laid unconscious and was being accused of theivery. So I did the only thing I could, accused him of stealing it from me. Diverted attention from me but they still walked away with the prize. Damnit.

The woman was waiting for me again when I got back to my camp. She wasn't pleased. Said I needed a lesson and cracked my rib. But she never touched me. She lashed my tongue open by narrowing her crazy eyes. She said the three were coming. I left the tent and sure enough. They all came at me and we all went into the tent. She wasn't there. The men started yelling at me and damanding why there was blood in the tent and whatever. I managed to fill the tent with smoke. Then she returned. Next thing, I was outside the tent and my leg was broken. The crazy bitch was trying to kill us all. The battle raged and a nutty-looking old man came barreling out of the trees. Drove the bitch off. The bald fighter and the skinny guy, Dolartu, offered an invitation to journey with them, but the fop wouldn't say anything.

The rest of the tournament was alright. The bald guy Jacques ended up winning. He pummeled Islan into the ground. I couldn't help but admire the skill he showed. Then he pounded some old chum of Islan's into the ground. That guy was more of a dirtball than Islan himself. Turns out he was cheating with a vampiric weapon. Bastard. Jacques has give the prize to me and now I'm off with all these priests. This is going to be kinda wierd. I'm not exactly the religious type.

From the journal of Arilyn

Contributor: Jess Landin