{OOC: I believe Renata is right here; if you want to bet on me, you must at least bid the 100 the bookkeepers already have, and, if you want to, you can add another 12. Betting on both contestants is not possible as it would be a surefire way of winning points}
{OOC: I believe Renata is right here; if you want to bet on me, you must at least bid the 100 the bookkeepers already have, and, if you want to, you can add another 12. Betting on both contestants is not possible as it would be a surefire way of winning points}
There is nothing in the rules that says i cannot bet on both contestants. In RL no bookmaker would refuse to take my bets.
However since there is a huge interest in the Druid and the slightist thing i say or do then i'll withdraw the bet (However the rules do state once a bet is placed it stands) so i'll expect the Pirate and the Harliquin to remburse me out of their own pockets - perfectly fair imo. So 50 gold pieces each - forthwith if you please.
As soon as the sun found out that the Harlequin and the Paladin were to face off in combat, the clouds dissipated before everybody’s very eyes. Still, slowly, he was dragged down, insisting to the sky that no, it wasn’t past his bedtime, he could stay awake, but to no avail. The sun went to bed and the moon took his position.
The Bannor delegate, who had watched the fight at first appallingly, had quickly warmed to the idea and had sat down with some fellow Bannor travelers who had come here as part of a trade caravan to make money and to watch a thrilling tournament. As they trounced him in card games, the note he had rode silently in his pocket, waiting to be read...
Because the Harlequin had the stage choice, he took the stage first. His outfit was replete with bells and funny diamond shapes that never failed to amuse the children. Well, children of the Balseraph anyway. Quite frankly he would have scared most normal children, but nobody in the land of the Balseraph was normal. The crowd roared and the lions cheered. It was almost unfair. He got to pick the arena, and he had the home court advantage. He smiled and waved, enjoying his time in the moon.
Eventually, the cheers died down, and the Paladin took the stage. The cheers were markedly less enthusiastic. He stomped out, looking very much like a tank, except the crowd didn’t know what a tank was so it decided that he was a really big man, which kind of ruined the simile, but except for the few silly English majors out in the crowd, nobody particularly cared.
A bell chimed, and the crowd let out loud cheers as the arena of the Harlequin's choice appeared out of thin air: it resembled some sort of acrobatic obstacle course, except that every object was made of mirroring glass panes. Even the floor was covered in glass, which was sure to give the Paladin some bad luck, as given his armor in addition to his larger than normal stature, he was sure to break something. The two were magically placed on opposite sides.
The Paladin saluted to his opponent, and the Harlequin shook his head, responding with a jingle of bells. The Paladin immediately unsheathed his sword and started to clank toward his opponent, with every third step or so cracking a mirror under the weight of his feet. The Harlequin winked, and suddenly, around the arena, several dozen copies of him were sitting, dancing, standing or running around. They all resembled the Harlequin so much that the audience could only tell the right one from the others due to the strange magic that the mages had thoughtfully decided to implement. The Paladin was not that lucky, and while he tried to gain an overview of the chaotic battleground, the Harlequin quickly mixed in with the mass of mirror images. The Paladin slowly and deliberately moved to the center of the arena, where he could be the furthest away from the confusing mass of clowns, never breaking eye contact with the shapes around him, except for the one time he walked into a mirrored wall, becoming very intimate with his own reflection.
When he reached the middle, the sound of the clowns suddenly vanished almost entirely, so he quickly spun around. The Harlequin smiled at him, and the Paladin struck with his sword, putting all his might in the blow, and to be fair he scored a very decent hit on the image. Because he had been expecting resistance, the blade flew out of his hand and lodged itself in the floor, piercing the mirror and lodging itself in the wooden floor under it. He fought feverishly to dislodge the blade from the doll, causing Arthur in the audience to sigh in shame. Meanwhile, the real Harlequin appeared on the top of one of the glass buildings and pulled from the folds of his clown outfit a tiny crossbow. For all intents and purposes, it was a toy, except for the purpose that it had been designed for, which was to kill people. It quickly resized itself to a very normal, deadly looking crossbow.
A manic laugh from the Harlequin was followed by the jingling of his outfit, which was then followed by six bolts from the weapon, glad to be playing follow the leader, an all and all amusing game. The Paladin whirled around to see the direction of the bolts and braced behind his shield. The arrows sliced through the air and three managed to strike the paladin, although they bounced off his armor ineffectually. Composing himself, he got up and removed his sword from the floor while his opponent scrambled back into the mass.
Moving through the arena like a bull in a Malakim pottery shop, the Paladin hit each image he encountered with the flat part of his blade. He felt a weak thump against his thigh armor, and turned around to see the Harlequin, hopping around and holding his sore foot with both hands, clearly regretting trying to kick a metal-clad monster like this one. Seizing opportunity, he slashed downwards at the Harlequin, who only by the merest of distances avoided it in a sudden swoop of movement that caught the holy warrior by surprise. He looked around in confusion, but the Harlequin was moving very fast and around the man in a seemingly random pattern, even once rolling under his legs, eliciting laughs from the audience.
Suddenly, the Harlequin leaped up onto the Paladin’s shoulders and banged on his helmet, causing the Paladin to become disoriented. He grabbed the Harlequin with a steel grip (literally!) and tossed him on the ground. An audible crack was heard and the audience winced for its hero. After regaining his bearings, the servant of Junil strode to the dead body, only to be interrupted by a figure diving towards him from the side. He ducked and the Harlequin leapt up and, lifting the flap from his opponent’s helmet, deftly poked him in the eyes. The Paladin staggered back, reeling, and the Harlequin struck. Leaping towards the Paladin, dark energies surged into his right arm as he prepared to choke the Paladin. As his hand enclosed around his target, the Paladin, with his right arm clutched to his face, blinking away the tears, lashed out with his left arm. The mailed glove caught the Harlequin right in the face and he was sent flying back. The energies scurried around the armor, making little zapping noises, but faded away harmlessly. The Paladin stormed over to his enemy and raised his sword high above his opponent, his sword glowing blue. "I send you back to whence you came, hellspawn."
The Harlequin, after the second major blow to the head, was too dazed to even come up with a witty riposte. Instead, he gave a thumps up, and the collective gasp of the crowd as the Paladin slammed his sword down through the Harlequin’s chest was deafening.
As the bell tolled, reality did not immediately switch back to normal this time. Instead, from the remains of the fallen clown floated a golden disk, growing and spinning in the air as it gained height, until it hovered some distance above the Paladin. As it stopped spinning, everyone in the Theatre could see what it was - a golden coin, with a stylized V engraved upon it. The second gasp of the crowd was no less deafening than the first.
Spoiler:
The Harlequin was a Mark!
The Harlequin was worth 450 gold. One third, 150 gold, will be given as spoils to the Paladin. The remainder is split among the four survivors of The Pack, 75 gold each.
The following contestants have lost gold from betting:
Sculptor -20 gold
Ranger -40 gold
Satyr -75 gold
Prior -80 gold
Ogre -50 gold
Divided Soul -250 gold
Eidolon -100 gold
Satyr -150 gold
Illusionist -12 gold
Arquebusier -1 gold
Luonnotar -25 gold
Beastmaster -20 gold
Overlord Speaker -50 gold
As reality finally shifted back, the Paladin saluted the largely uncaring audience, though the Monk-fanclub-turned-Devout-fanclub finally saw a real champion to cheer for. The Paladin gave them an extra curtsy, before walking off to take care of his outfit. He traded places with the official in charge of announcements, who bore the customary parchment in his hands and the customary silly pompous look on his face.
I really didn't expect that! Hurray for catching a mark! This means that more than likely there are two group of marks. Diamondeye didn't seem to happy about getting chosen against this opponent, certainly not something he would have picked himself.
Did you even read my post? There are obviously two group of marks... One was with harlequin and voted in the paladin, other voted in the harlequin not knowing he was a mark.
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