15. The Proprietor's Spectacle

### Before the Show

Wilfred, Clark, Vic, and Clwyd were left waiting in the entrance lobby of the Proprietor's Obsidian Villa while Kind prepared a copy of the *nondetection* spell, as per their agreement. When at last Ericsson, the orderly who they'd been dealing with up to this point, returned to them with the copied spell, he informed the group that the Proprietor himself had been in contact and had made an addendum to the deal. Returning to Kind, Wilfred was informed that the Proprietor felt it was his duty to offer full shielding to the gnome if that was to be their side of the bargain. To that end, Wilfred would be permitted to stay in the Obsidian Villa for the time being, where he would be away from the eyes of the Crooked Warden and the Rumidians. In return, he would use his skills as a trained wizard to scribe some spell scrolls that the Proprietor had use for. Additionally, Wilfred would not fight in the Garden of Sand, and would be provided with some powdered diamond on his departure - the spell component for nondetection - as payment for the scrolls he produced. Wilfred thought it was the best course of action for now and agreed, departing from the group and being escorted to the first floor by a pair of silent, identical-looking gnomes.

Pyt and Malak eventually returned from their trip to the bathhouse. Before leaving the Proprietor's villa, the party were able to learn that they would be participating in an event called the Proprietor's Spectacle two nights hence. They would fight in numerous rounds in the centre of the Garden of Sand to an expected full crowd, with intermissions in-between. They would fight a minimum of three rounds, but should they opt for a fourth, they'd earn themselves 5% of the event's ticket sales. A fifth round would net them 10%. Additionally, the more they performed for the crowd, the more tips they would be likely to earn from them. The final note Ericsson made a point of telling them was that the spectacle of blood sport meant they would receive no aid in the arena. If they die, they die. And the crowd will probably love it.

Together, the group of five travelled to Riverside and went for a drink in the Red Velvet. The lobby was far quieter than their previous visit and the well-dressed half-orc bartender informed them they wouldn't be able to take any companionship that evening without a booking - the place clearly in full work mode due to Badger's parley. They lounged in the chairs, sipping too-strong, too-dark, too-foamy dwarven ale; with Vic opting to stick to orange juice after some differing opinions were offered by Clark and Pyt on the subject of an eleven-year-old drinking heavily. The crucial factor seemed to be some fear-mongering about the dangers of alcoholism from the bard.

### The White Hunter

From the Red Velvet, the party opted to go by rickshaw to Bronze Boy to see off the end of the night. Before they departed from the teenage boy who ran the rickshaw, Vic asked him for his name and whether he gets paid enough to live a good life by doing this. He was shy in the face of customers, mumbled that his name was Flynn, said he got paid but that 'life is always hard.' He quickly took his leave after that while the party returned to Bar Albatross for the evening.

The door of the bar had been boarded up again and Vic heard some slight creaking coming from inside. With Pyt calling out to see if someone was inside, the lock was quickly opened and the party were greeted by none other than Alejandro au Garcias. He curtly cleansed the alcohol that was slurring Pyt's words - much to the bard's chagrin - and then beckoned the group inside for them to have another discussion, now that they were approaching the time limit on their 'arrangement'. The Rumidian was drinking a vintage wine from his homeland and he passed the bottle around, telling the group he'd heard talk of a ragtag bunch that were squatting in this recently purchased Rumidian bar. He asked where Wilfred Seabottom was now, since he wasn't with the party, and the group told him they no longer knew where the gnome was. The conversation was fairly light in tone,all things considered, and Alejandro resigned himself to the fact that Wilfred wasn't with them. Pyt told the White Hunter that Wilfred was in fact a dragon and the group had only just discovered this but it hardly fazed Alejandro at all. Firstly, according to him, because hunting Wilfred is not actually his job so what the gnome is or is not doesn't concern him at all; he was no longer a mage hunter. But, perhaps more significantly, it did not bother him because Alejandro's reputation and moniker as the White Hunter came from a youth spent killing white dragons, apparently. The Rumidian left suddenly, taking his wine bottle with him, and the party slept in Pyt's drum-yurt in the bar again.

Before sunrise, Vic shot upright, alerted by the sound of Pyt's magical hut being dispelled. Alejandro was sat in the bar, his face stony, his arming sword across his lap, gauntleted fingers tapping the blade. The doorway of Bar Albatross was filled with more fully armoured Rumidians. The rest of the group slowly roused themselves as he spoke:

'Do you think I'm an imbecile? For you treat me like a damn fool and conduct yourselves as if I do not matter. Or perhaps you think yourselves the strongest people in all the world? Untouchable? Shall we see? Shall I kill you here and now before the sun rises? Provide the answers I am after, now! Where is Wilfred Seabottom? Tell me what you know!'

His fingers tap tapped on the metal of the blade as the conversation progressed. Pyt was able to deflect a lot of the hard questions being thrown at them, but his tone was pissing off Alejandro such that he had the other Rumidians draw their swords too. His inquiry migrated from things specifically related to Wilfred to more general matters: the party's relationship with each other, how they'd come together, what they did with Driscoll against Shandy, and why they were in Tortuga now. Pyt lied when asked, saying that they were on the turtle of their own volition, not on Eight Finger's orders. As the tense affair continued, Vic felt their lying and double-speak wasn't getting them anywhere other than towards the point of Alejandro's longsword. She told him the specifics of the most recent deal struck with the Proprietor: Wilfred was under the Shell Lord's protection, scribing scrolls in the Obsidian Villa in exchange for asylum. Vic had been careful to only speak about things from the most recent deal - those not under the conditions of the Sylvan oath that would have had Pyt try and destroy her should she speak them. Seemingly satisfied with this, Alejandro and his men took their leave and a long silence passed over the group in the desolate bar.

When the sun had properly risen, Vic quickly travelled to the Villa to let Wilfred know what she'd told Alejandro, all within earshot of one of the ever-present orderlies that work for the Proprietor. He was a little shocked by it all, but concluded that his current situation wasn't much changed. He was best off staying where he was for the time being, but noted that they would probably need to sneak away from the villa and the turtle when the time came to leave.

### The Garden of Sand

After this, the group decided to lay low in Sinner Side and wait for their time to fight in the Garden of Sand. Passing an evening in a shabby tavern, they were escorted to the arena early the next day by employees of the Proprietor - all of whom had the same black paint over their eyes just as Cataleya had when she had given the group their tour; this was something like their uniform, and they were known as the Black Eyes because of it. The party of five were shown to a gladiatorial waiting room filled with beds, benches, training equipment, and a window out into the colosseum area of the Garden of Sand. As the day wore on and the party finalised their fighting plans, the arena began to fill. They were met by Cataleya, who explained she was reluctantly in charge of making sure they went out on stage and came back in a timely manner.

Once the arena was filled, the open flames that were illuminating the large building went out abruptly. Dancing lights of blue and red materialised and began swirling around the air, centring on a fire dancer in the middle of the sand arena. He flipped and tumbled and painted arcs with his flaming batons, and was soon joined by two ribbon dancers as more candles were magically lit around the floor. Their performance came to a crescendo and bonfires around the sandy arena burst into flame, illuminating the whole stage. Kind walked in the air on an invisible staircase, coming to stop above the central blazing fire. He spun slowly in the air such that he addressed much of the crowd as he welcomed them to the Proprietor's Spectacle and begged them to be as generous with their coin as their entertainers were being with their blood. His general demeanour was far removed from the man they party had dealt with up to now - clearly a showman's persona. As Kind walked back down from the air to his seat in the front row, next to the twin gnomes from the villa, Cataleya rushed the party out into the arena.

### Round One

The group frantically arranged themselves among the rocks and fire pits as three sets of doors around the arena were opened and roars rushed out of them. The party were set upon by a pair each of lions, tigers, and panthers - all of which had been prodded, poked, and wound up to ferocious levels of pain. The skirmish was swift and deadly, with the different species of cats turning on each other just as readily as they attacked the party. Clark struggled to get stuck into the action, his *spiritual weapon* not finding much purchase against the beasts. Clwyd's thunderstones made little impact but she took the opportunity to make her magical cloak billow dramatically. She was also able to display some incredible goblin nimbleness, dodging and ducking most of the feline attacks that came at her. Vic made use of the boulders that had been scattered around to hide and got off a number of excellently placed crossbow bolts in cat eyes and arseholes alike. Pyt at one point mounted a lion, turned its head to a favourable angle and used *dissonant whispers* in order to make the creature flee past a waiting Malak and into a huge boulder. Malak took the opportunity to gore the creature with his trident, which, following the boom of the triton's signature spell that accompanies his attacks, was enough to send it sliding into sand and stone, dead.

The crowd loved the display and some of the party bowed or played up to their cheers as Cataleya beckoned them back into their waiting room. Workers rushed around the arena, first clearing it of corpses, then sprinkling more sand over any bloody patches, and finally making a few adjustments to the scenery. Kind then announced the recent rising star of the small fights, Quiet Nel - and the halfling woman on Ingela's crew walked out on the sand. Her opponent was a thickly muscled gnome by the name of Bloody Doston. They did battle in but a tiny portion of the arena, touching fists before dropping into grappling stances. After sizing each other up for a moment, they began to brutalise one another with headbutts, elbows, punches, and kicks, all the while maintaining what grapples they could. Nel took a lot of abuse from this gnome that was likely twice her weight, but barely altered her nonchalant expression. Eventually Doston swung too wide with a punch and Nel got underneath him, shunted him bodily to the ground. She was quickly in control of the ensuing chaos. Before the gnome even had time to tap out or cry in protest, there was a pop audible around the arena and he was screaming with the agony of a broken arm. The victorious halfling rose, spat a glob of blood from her mouth, and walked off stage, leaving Doston to be attended to by the arena's workers.

### Round Two

After some more sand was throw where necessary, the party were rushed out once more and stood in anticipation as the far-side doors opened and a quiet wailing crept out. A flail snail emerged, skin cracked and wounds oozing from its time away from water. It sobbed, almost childlike, as it inched forwards on the sand, shying away from the heat of the fires when it neared them. As they prepared to strike the creature, Vic hid behind a boulder which turned out to not be a rock at all, but in fact a galeb duhr that had been added to the arena between the rounds. She was rocked by its stone fist before scurrying away, only for it to curl into a ball and charge at her with all the momentum of *the Wicked Sister's* ramming speed. Heavily wounded, she dashed away, moving faster than it could pursue. Most of the party turned their attention to the galeb duhr, seeing it as the far bigger threat than the slowly moving snail. Clark's *spiritual weapon* and *toll the dead* did a number on the stone creature, the half-dwarf now warmed up after the first fight. At one point, he ended the elemental's spell-like animation of two other boulders into similar creatures to itself before they could pursue Vic. Clwyd focused a lot of her attention on the snail, eager to preserve its famously magical shell that was well known to artificers as an ingredient for a number of magic items. When at last the galeb duhr was dealt with and attention turned to the sobbing snail, the physical wounds the party inflicted on the creature began to sever its flail-like tentacles - it started with five and was eventually reduced to one. As they attacked, some of their spells were captured and reflected by the shell as a concussive explosion. At one point, Clwyd got too close and was buffeted by the fierce strikes of the terrified creature's tentacles. But it was eventually reduced to one flail, at which point it withdrew into its shell and wailed like an infant. Kind started the applause, indicating the fight was over, and Bigly came and rolled the snail away - the creature being valuable enough to the Proprietor to warrant stopping the fight before it died. As it went, Black Eyes came and chucked buckets of water in the shell. The group again played to the crowd a bit before returning to the waiting room and Cataleya.

The next intermission was very different to the first. A Lady Esmerelda was introduced,accompanied by a trobaritz, Claudia of Moonglow - a city-state outside the empire that Pyt recalled was famous for its prestigious bardic college. Claudia played and Esmerelda engaged in a scintillating dance. Half her outfit was a woman's ballroom dress, and the other side was a man's suit. She angled herself and moved such as to give the illusion of a couple dancing for most of the audience. At the end of her performance and the thunderous applause that followed it - the crowd fully into the revels of the evening at this point - Claudia of Moonglow extended her musical performance for a few more songs, until it was eventually time for the party to fight again.

### Round Three

This time Kind stood up and began casting a summoning spell. What he produced was an enormous ape-like demon known as a barlgura, a creature Kind said was a dear old friend of his, whose name he had learned long ago and who would happily participate in this evening's show lest Kind tell all in attendance what that true name was. With that threat in its mind, the barlgura spun and leapt a full forty feet through the air, landing just before Malak. Its attacks were heavy and brutal, like a gorilla smashing a rival into the earth. Malak took the brunt of the strikes on his shield, but he felt the weight of the blows all up his arm. The fight looked to be a bad one until Pyt used another *dissonant whispers*, making the creature flee and opening it up to an almighty strike by Malak, one where the thunder of his booming trident was all but drowned out by the sizzling of the radiant smite he forced into the beast. The demon was wracked by the attack, and immediately took to turning invisible. Clark summoned his spirit guardians to hunt the beast, and the echoes of those he'd once known began to swirl around the cleric, most of them the same few figures as before, but now accompanied by the outline of a little girl with daggers in hand. The barlgura leapt around invisibly, intending to pick off one of the party at a time. It noticed Vic separated from the group and moved to attack her, but was finally stopped by Malak's *ray of frost*, the ice forming around its invisible limbs and freezing it in place, snuffing out what life remained in its body. Kind rose and sent out a beam of energy that cut through the demon's form, turning it into dust and the crowd went ballistic, chanting '*Triton! Triton!*' for the flashy display Malak had just given them. Clark, Clwyd, and Malak played up to the crowd again, and then the party made their way back to the waiting room.

This time, Bigly was the intermission entertainment. He fought viciously with a wyvern that had had its wings shredded to ribbons so it couldn't fly. The troll had little interest in dodging attacks, and those blows that his armour didn't stop left wounds that had healed before the blood even dribbled all the way to the floor. He eventually climbed atop the creature and ripped its jaws open, breaking bones and tendons and quieting its shrieks for good.

While the party took their break, Kind opened the evening up to tips for the combatants. Runners began coming into the waiting room, delivering silver that had been gifted to the group for their performance.

One brought a small deck of cards to Malak with an accompanying note: '*Practice, practice. And maybe one day you'll be as interesting to play cards with as you are to watch fight - Ingela*'

Another note was sent for Vic: '*I have use for someone of your stature and capabilities and, as such, have a proposal for your consideration. If you are interested, seek out an urchin come morning and tell them so - CW*'

Cataleya asked if they'd be doing the fourth round, telling them they'd make a little over 1300 gold pieces if they won out. They agreed to do so and were hurried out on stage again. Vic cast her eyes around the crowd and managed to spot Ingela and her ladies, minus Nel. Lahaye, the tiefling, got excited when Vic looked their way, whispering something to her captain. Before Vic could see any more, the arena's far doors opened again and a huge, metal bull spewing green fumes from its nostril charged out at the group - the fourth round's beast, a khalkotaur. Template:Navbox Part Two