Session 20: Group 1 Overview

'NYGEL, of Farome', a Bodyguard for Hire (Nefarion)
'GLORFINDEL', a Travelling Healer (Seltyiel)
'KANDI', a Traveling Courtesan (Cynthia)
'EEVEE', The Sorrowful Blind', a Traveling Monk (Hel)
~11am, 28th of June, 5th Era 1486 RE (Day 16)
Melee Free-For-All Arena, Tourney Grounds, Dunfarg, Val Némor

 Melee Free-For-All Ground Rules
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No Arcane Abilities of the Second Circle or higher.
No Ranged or Thrown Weaponry of any sort.
Healing is restricted to one instance per participant.

No mounts of any kind. Fighting beasts are also disallowed.

Participant may withdraw from the Free-For-All at any time, and must shout "Yield"
A Participant who has yielded must not be harmed further, and cannot take part any more.

No cooperation or 'ganging up', no mutual benefits of any kind to be exchanged between participants.
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Champion's Reward; the sum of 10,000 Gold Pieces
Runner Up; the sum of 4,000 Gold Pieces

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The thirty combatants take their places at the borders of the Free-For-All arena, Nefarion thinks to himself, this so-called 'arena' seems more like a pit...a great expanse of cracked dry mud, stained with blood and littered with shards of armor and weapons. He notices that only a handful of combatants stand between him and Seltyiel. The rules state clearly that he cannot cooperate with him, so he might as well steer clear of him until completely necessary. The Dark Master has vowed to watch him perform on the field, he needed to look good out there, spill a bit of blood. Do what he does best. For the good of the Hell-Knights. Unbeknownst to Nefarion however, Seltyiel would not refrain from fighting him. When the wooden palisades were raised, the combatants began to spill into the arena from all corners - a veritable medley of different races, armors, weapons and fighting techniques battled for the chance to win gold and glory. The bulk of the thirty combatants congealed into one large bloodbath in the center of the pit, and quickly their numbers were thinned. Many yielded before long, and those who didn't suffered terrible wounds, dismemberment, and some; death. Hel stood at the edge of the arena, and discretely cast a Life Bond spell on Nefarion and Seltyiel, so that she might share some of their pain inflicted (and they might be able to withstand more of the fighting) Nefarion cornered a halfling paladin of Ragathiel named Figaro and brought down his great axe upon him. He swung relentlessly at the little armored knight until Figaro collapsed. His squires rushed onto the arena to drag off his body, and Nefarion continued to his next target. Seltyiel drank his mutagen and beast-morphed into his terrible and destructive form. With ease, he sent an imposing muscular satyr down onto the ground. The barbaric creature known as Barryx the Bull dropped his hooked blades and was also dragged off by his squires. The main fray in the center of the arena waged on, more knights fell and more lost blood and limbs. Truly thinned were there numbers now, and a sinister looking combatant made his way towards Nefarion. He could hear the jingling of bells before he could see the horrific jester dancing towards him, armed with an evil-looking hand sickle. An unsettling, exaggerated smile crept across his blood-smeared face and Nefarion advanced to meet him cautiously. Through magical means, the Jester threw down a slippery liquid in an attempt to trip Nefarion, he could also vanish into thin air with great ease. Nefarion found himself at a true disadvantage, and could not predict when or where the jester would strike. Even with Hel's Life Bond spell sustaining him, the jester bled him time and time again. The battle raged on for some time, and victorious from the main fray emerged a hulking knight in brass colored armor. He advanced steadily towards Seltyiel with tower shield and flanged mace in tow. Seltyiel braced for impact as the heavy flanged mace came down upon him. He deflected, and returned a flurry of blows. For some time they both battled, exchanging powerful blows, and for a time it seemed that they were evenly matched. While this was happening, Hel had attracted some attention from the Tournament Guards, and they made their way towards her. Vycktor warned Hel of this, and attempted to waylay the guards in any way he could to buy her some time to get away. When Vycktor is backhanded by one of the guards, he flees the tourney grounds. Hel makes a run for it and the guards continue to chase her for some time. With the majority of the participants out (in one form or another), it seems that Nefarion and Seltyiel are among the last few left. The Knight of Brass continues to battle Seltyiel, and he defends himself well, occasionally landing a lethal hit on the knight, whittling him down slowly. Nefarion however is not faring so well, and the Jester has drawn blood one too many times. The effects of the Life Bond have worn off since Hel was chased off by the guards, and Nefarion seems without choice. He must yield, or he will die. He buys himself a moment to quickly glance into the audience stalls and around the edges of the arena, but he cannot see anyone that might be the cult leader. Despairingly, he fights on until the jester finally brings him down - slicing his Achilles' tendon with the sickle. Nefarion falls hard, dropping his great axe. The Jester kneels down beside him, and talks menacingly about life and death. Nefarion's rapidly losing a lot of blood, and yet he still does not yield. The Jester eggs on the cheering crowd, demanding an outcome. The general consensus vote to spare his life, and the Jester obliges, and dances away from Nefarion's body. Despite this mercy however, Nefarion's squire; Vycktor is nowhere to be seen, and the only person who runs to his aid is Os. He tries his best to save his master and stop the blood-loss. He wails out to the crowd in anguish, begging for help. With his life force leaving him by the gallon, Nefarion bleeds out on the dirt and not one of his comrades come to his aid. The Brass Knight uses Stone Soul to make himself grow both in size and strength, but not long after, he is stabbed in the back several times by the invisible Jester. The Brass Knight topples like a building onto the ground, shaking the very earth beneath him. The Jester leaves himself vulnerable and Seltyiel strikes him down after a brief tussle. "I yield, I yield" he screams. The cheering of the crowd comes to a climax, and Seltyiel looks around amazed to see that he is the last man standing in the arena. He's ushered up to the podium by the tourney herald, and is congratulated for his accomplishments. Another distinct looking man is also stood up at the podium with the herald and the other officials and noblemen. He's clad in expensive silver armor and adorned with a rich purple cape. His long hair - the same color as his armor - hangs from his weathered and disgruntled face. He personally extends out his (not-so) sincere congratulations to Seltyiel.

"Bravo. Good show. Congratulations on your victory and proving your valor, chivalry...etc etc, formalities and formalities...Damn it will someone just pay the man his gold and be done with it?! I've got a war to win."

Only after this conceited and contemptuous man had withdrawn himself, did Seltyiel learn who it was. He had just spoken to Lord-Meister Hermann; the head of the renegade House Villeroy - he was the treasonous uncle of the Queen, and the number one enemy of the Royalists.