Starting Date and Time: 25th Day of Mauven, 300 DM, Midday
Starting Location: South of Green Fall
CS URLs: Lyriia βLiiβ Elenye & Gregory Whitehorn & Verissa Beatrix Greenlakes aka Trix & Saierun & Alya Eloen
Trix hummed lightly to herself, sitting atop her table on the edge of the Grand Melee, awaiting for it to start. This was always a favorite event of hers to watch. Roughly fifty men and women of all varieties of species fighting with heavily weighted wooden weapons, all for a chance to become a Knight. The Knights did a great job protecting the realm, and the more they prospered, the more everyone's lives improved. And this was great for her business. The Knights paid for each treatment she dispensed, so long as she provided the proper paperwork. They did love their paperwork. And she wasn't the only one here, there were medics from all over. She'd spent the entire morning trading various herbal recipes and techniques, between treating those injured in the initial competitions.
It was a bit disconcerting that most of the proper Knights had left for Scream Watch. But that was their duty. At the very least, a bunch of squires were left behind. Trix kicked her legs, swishing her long skirt playfully, as the horn sounded, indicating the beginning of the Grand Melee. The participants began fighting fiercely, the sound of wood striking wood and flesh thudding over the arena, cheers and jeers as favorites fell. As the group was thinned down to roughly fifteen people, a man broke out from the stands.
He was covered in a dark, hooded cloak, and he hopped over the barricade, running for the center of the arena. Most of the combatants were too busy to notice him, but the crowd grew curious and interested. Squires began scrambling to get into the arena to stop him from whatever interruption he was planning. The man ripped off his cloak, revealing his tattooed body, markings of crimson vines, threw his arms above his head, and let out a blood curdling scream that everyone know. It was a Screamer War Cry, what they were given their name from.
Several feet above his raised hands, it looked as if there was a small crack in the air, and a rushing of wind was felt by all those near the man. The squires all stopped in their tracks, as the crack widened. Those able to see it could make out a fiery, volcanic world in as high of a detail as if it existed right there in the arena. It opened quite wide, as several reptilian roars rang out from within.
A single participant, a large ogre with a massive club lumbered up to the Screamer, and swung his club down. Normally it would've crushed any unsuspecting person, but the club stopped about a foot from the man's head and shattered into splinters, blinding the ogre, who fell away, bellowing in pain. The reptilian roars grew louder, until finally a single head popped into view, looking at those in the bleachers. It screeched in triumph and called out behind, when it's second head came into view. It leapt through the opening in the air and landed heavily on the arena dirt.
The creature was not something anyone had ever seen before, not even the most seasoned of hunters. It was twice as tall as a warhorse, and three abroad. It was muscle bound, covered in protective bony plates, with row upon row of viciously curved teeth. It roared once more, and charged the nearest stand, ripping through the first line of squires with relative ease, mostly due to the shock and surprise of its arrival. It dove into the stands, clamping down on a single man, and ripping him in half. It then began rampaging around, attacking at the nearest moving people.
It was then that the screams and panic full set in. People scrambled over each other, leaving friends behind to die. The few knights that remained behind to judge the combatants were already moving toward the creature, weapons drawn, spreading out to surround it. They gave out commands to the squires to get people out of the area and protect them. Trix was already off her table, moving toward the carnage, bag of supplies at her hip, ready to start treating and triaging, looking around for the other medics. The creature had several people trapped at the top of the stands, leaving a wake of injured and dead behind it.
Trix came up to the first injured she found, a squire with a massive gash through his plate and chainmail at the gut. He would be dead anytime now. She held his hand, looking down at his eyes, waiting for him to pass. No one should die alone.
Starting Location: South of Green Fall
CS URLs: Lyriia βLiiβ Elenye & Gregory Whitehorn & Verissa Beatrix Greenlakes aka Trix & Saierun & Alya Eloen
Trix hummed lightly to herself, sitting atop her table on the edge of the Grand Melee, awaiting for it to start. This was always a favorite event of hers to watch. Roughly fifty men and women of all varieties of species fighting with heavily weighted wooden weapons, all for a chance to become a Knight. The Knights did a great job protecting the realm, and the more they prospered, the more everyone's lives improved. And this was great for her business. The Knights paid for each treatment she dispensed, so long as she provided the proper paperwork. They did love their paperwork. And she wasn't the only one here, there were medics from all over. She'd spent the entire morning trading various herbal recipes and techniques, between treating those injured in the initial competitions.
It was a bit disconcerting that most of the proper Knights had left for Scream Watch. But that was their duty. At the very least, a bunch of squires were left behind. Trix kicked her legs, swishing her long skirt playfully, as the horn sounded, indicating the beginning of the Grand Melee. The participants began fighting fiercely, the sound of wood striking wood and flesh thudding over the arena, cheers and jeers as favorites fell. As the group was thinned down to roughly fifteen people, a man broke out from the stands.
He was covered in a dark, hooded cloak, and he hopped over the barricade, running for the center of the arena. Most of the combatants were too busy to notice him, but the crowd grew curious and interested. Squires began scrambling to get into the arena to stop him from whatever interruption he was planning. The man ripped off his cloak, revealing his tattooed body, markings of crimson vines, threw his arms above his head, and let out a blood curdling scream that everyone know. It was a Screamer War Cry, what they were given their name from.
Several feet above his raised hands, it looked as if there was a small crack in the air, and a rushing of wind was felt by all those near the man. The squires all stopped in their tracks, as the crack widened. Those able to see it could make out a fiery, volcanic world in as high of a detail as if it existed right there in the arena. It opened quite wide, as several reptilian roars rang out from within.
A single participant, a large ogre with a massive club lumbered up to the Screamer, and swung his club down. Normally it would've crushed any unsuspecting person, but the club stopped about a foot from the man's head and shattered into splinters, blinding the ogre, who fell away, bellowing in pain. The reptilian roars grew louder, until finally a single head popped into view, looking at those in the bleachers. It screeched in triumph and called out behind, when it's second head came into view. It leapt through the opening in the air and landed heavily on the arena dirt.
The creature was not something anyone had ever seen before, not even the most seasoned of hunters. It was twice as tall as a warhorse, and three abroad. It was muscle bound, covered in protective bony plates, with row upon row of viciously curved teeth. It roared once more, and charged the nearest stand, ripping through the first line of squires with relative ease, mostly due to the shock and surprise of its arrival. It dove into the stands, clamping down on a single man, and ripping him in half. It then began rampaging around, attacking at the nearest moving people.
It was then that the screams and panic full set in. People scrambled over each other, leaving friends behind to die. The few knights that remained behind to judge the combatants were already moving toward the creature, weapons drawn, spreading out to surround it. They gave out commands to the squires to get people out of the area and protect them. Trix was already off her table, moving toward the carnage, bag of supplies at her hip, ready to start treating and triaging, looking around for the other medics. The creature had several people trapped at the top of the stands, leaving a wake of injured and dead behind it.
Trix came up to the first injured she found, a squire with a massive gash through his plate and chainmail at the gut. He would be dead anytime now. She held his hand, looking down at his eyes, waiting for him to pass. No one should die alone.
