A brave and beautiful girl is making a stand.

First, Donna tries to heal herself again. 2, 4, 2 = 8; this time she doesn't fuck up so badly and heals herself for 3 HP with a minor heal (she can't do the major on herself again today). That's 3 FP. Then, she spends 3 more FP to do the same for Angelo. 4, 3, 2 = 9, 3 healing to him as well. She does the same again. 4, 6, 5 = 15, a failure by 1. Angelo will have to make do with just 3 HP for now, he won't be fighting any more today, especially since he has had his sentience temporarily knocked out of him. Then Donna goes to heal Botha with a major heal for 6. 4, 2, 3 = 9, success. By stoically bearing the pain, Botha makes a sort of sex appeal roll on her; he actually has a rank in it so his effective skill is quite high combined with his high appearance and revealing clothing. 5, 2, 3 = 10, a success by a large margin. Donna rolls her willpower. 2, 3, 3 = 8, a success but by less margin. This produces a reaction roll for Donna - if it is a "very good" or higher, she will seek his 'attentions'. 5, 6 3 + appearance and clothing bonuses of 8 = 22, "excellent". Conversely, she rolls her sex appeal on him. 5, 2, 5 = 12, also a high margin of success. He rolls 1, 6, 2 = 9 on his willpower, succeeding by enough that he is not lured in by Donna - he's too irritated over having been mauled by her holy dog to want to get his hands under Donna's vestments right now. Depending on how long Claudia takes inside the tent, Donna may get more assertive, but for the moment she contents herself with the fact that healing requires her lay her palms on him.

Claudia meets a group of spectators; their reaction isn't important. However, Sterling's and that of her challenger and his lackeys does, so each will roll once. Sterling doesn't have the homosexual or bisexual attributes, unlike Yvonne (and, now, Claudia) so she only adds the lower, +3 bonus for Claudia's attractiveness, however, thanks to the status and fashion sense, Claudia still has a good bonus. 6, 2, 6 = 14 + 6 = 20; Sterling will be immediately deferential and loyal to her as befits a woman with pretensions to knighthood. Then the other knight and his squires. He has been poisoned against Claudia due to church politics, giving a -3 to the reaction roll, but of course her beauty still makes for a net +6 to the roll. 2, 2, 6 = 10+5 = 15, 'good'; this means favorably disposed to Claudia but not to the degree of sacrificing his honor and immediately backing down.

Inside the tent was a small cross-section of the city's population. Those of high station, the common folk, and even the dishonored and dishonorable could all appreciate some good show. Fighting rings in the Griffinwald Theocracy were relatively genteel and restrained battlegrounds compared to their equivalents among the savage orcs or decadent elves (wherein "to the ****" was the rule rather than the exception). But even so, the ground was strewn with a thick layer of sawdust, speaking to an expectation of spilled blood. The first thing to catch the frazzled Claudia's eye was the one she'd been looking for - Sterling. It wasn't hard to pick her out, as the entire side of the wooden octagon was deserted around her, except for a single young dark-haired man beyond its edge who had his hands in shackles, locked to a heavy stake in the ground.

Sterling herself was a bit on the tall and broad-shouldered side, though less so than Claudia had expected, given her uncle's description. Strawberry blonde hair flowed down Sterling's back in a great unruly mess that looked like it hadn't been combed in days. Sporting a striking suit of black plate with ornate golden filigree-work layered over the steel, there were only two hints of the feminine in Sterling's panoply: a lacy blue silk arming garment that flowed out from underneath the gaps and joints of the armor, and a small elevated heel built into each of the sollerets on her feet (though not nearly as long or sharply tapered as those Claudia had been issued). The expression on her face was not dissimilar to that of her cousin, proud yet serene. It looked like she'd been testing the edge of a similarly fancy-looking sword by slowly slicing through some small, tightly-bound bundles of straw.

At the opposite end, there were three men inside the octagon - all clad rather shabbily. Two, a pair of teen boys, were wearing burlap sacks like those for potatoes and covered in stains and dirt smudges, looking rather exhausted. In between them was a man with a shaved head, chubby, ruddy cheeks and a small pointed goatee and thin moustache... with a face naturally suited to looking peevish, and right now appearing absolutely livid. But most outlandish was what he wore: an oaken barrel with a hole cut in the bottom for his head to poke through and smaller holes on the sides for his arms. In the other end of the octagon, Claudia could see a rather ominous figure standing still but moving just enough to let her know it was alive. With burlap wrapped all over it and wrapped thoroughly in heavy iron chains, it was clearly a humanoid figure of prodigious size and bulk, standing a head and a half taller than even the largest men in the room.

Claudia rolls theology to recognize this. She gets 3, 1, 6 = 10, success. Already having Donna in her mind, Claudia recognized this for what it was - a common punishment assigned to men who were convicted (rather subjectively) of being drunkards. She also correctly interprets the position of the 'ringmaster'.

Sitting on an elevated throne of polished red soapstone was a stout dwarf in elaborately embossed plate mail, his neatly braided white beard so long that was just shy of being a tripping hazard. Claudia had seen priests of Bruudalf before but there was something different about this one's bearing, and the holy scepter he held in one hand was battered and bent. It might be a symbol of disgrace from the clergy, for dwarves were notorious for elaborate and strict codes of conduct by which a priest or warrior could earn a lifetime of disgrace with a single misstep, even if not relegated to a cheek-brand and the social **** of becoming "Dust". Near him were several other dwarves. A few of them bore that tell-tale mark of unpersonhood on their cheek, and all were a bit on the shabby and ill-groomed side by their kind's standards. Not only that, but the two females leaning over the sides of the priest's throne and holding a mug of ale and platter of cheese were wearing very skimpy cocktail dresses that exposed a lot of cleavage and barely covered their full, sensuous hips. Were it not for their short stature, even bending over slightly would make their undergarments visible.

The priest held up a hand to call for attention. A burly and heavily scarred dwarf warrior in leathers at his side shouted to the crowd. "Oi! Listen you human rabble. The great Graldir Skozzen, priest of Bruudalf, has considered the challenge and reached his verdict!"

Graldir, this priest, paused dramatically for a moment and opened his mouth as if to speak... and then loudly belched. Claudia could hear Donna muttering something in disapproval, the first time that the flighty initiate had said anything unkind about anyone. The dwarf spoke in a voice that sounded like he gargled gravel every morning. "So, in the case of the trial of the accused witch Donovan Red, credibly accused o' vilest blood magic. Or perhaps void magic. Some unholy trickery, at any rate..."

Sterling struck her breastplate with her armored glove for attention. "And let me remind everyone that it was only because he bet a bit of silver on me when a certain incompetent lout besmirched my honor and **** me to challenge him in the ring. Is it really so surprising that I won, regardless of my sex? I mean, look at him! What a disgrace to the image of knighthood! So salty over losing that he comes up with some ridiculous story about a 'magic potion' having been put in his ale to undermine him before the challenge. If he'd not had so much of it to drink - no dark magic needed - then he might not have had to forfeit his armor and his honor to me..."

"Harumph!!" the man in the barrel's face got even ruddier. "I'd never lose a fair fight to a privileged maiden playing at war but that's not why I accused the wretch Donovan! He was a suspicious bastard to begin with, and asking around, it seems he just got into town and has been collecting strange and exotic substances from curiosity shops and has an athame dagger in his robes! Not only that but when I conferred with this traveling judge of warriors, the esteemed Mr. Skozzen, I had a vision from Bruudalf telling me that I'd been cheated and bewitched, that honorable combat had been broken..."

Blowing air through her lips and laughing rudely, Sterling waved mockingly at him. "You mean after the dwarves drank you under the table whilst you were drowning your sorrows and you were passed out in the gutter! THAT is when you had this 'vision'?!"

"Shut up, you wench!" the disgraced knight in the barrel shouted through gritted teeth. "It is only because of your family name that I don't - openly - suspect that you asked the vile man to do this!" Through the crowd parting, Claudia could see a handsome young man with long red hair, in fine velvet robes, tied, blindfolded, to a stake in the opposite end of the tent. He tried to say something in his defense but was securely gagged with a leather thong.

Already weary, Claudia's mind raced. Gods in the alliance shared authority and dominion. A divine judgement handed down by a ranking priest of Bruudalf was as authoritative in Griffinwald as anywhere else, and even if Sterling's uncle were here right now he couldn't override her decision to volunteer as champion to prove someone else's innocence. Of course, being female, she could withdraw such an offer at any time with little social consequence. Still, there was something admirable about it... assuming that the guy wasn't actually an evil wizard, that is. Claudia's first instinct was to demand an end to this but if she claimed authority that wasn't rightly hers to do so, wouldn't that mean that Jaris would punish her? Aside from the 'true or false' explanations the God had never really communicated with her.

Perhaps because of how the disgraced knight had worded it, his words did not ring of falsehood, nor did Sterling's. He truly did believe that this Donovan was a witch, that Sterling cheated, and that Bruudalf had spoken to him while he was drunk. "Donna," she said carefully to the slender girl behind her, "stay here and keep Angelo from getting into any more trouble." She pushed her way through the crowd to get to the dwarf priest. Judging by the leers that Donna was drawing in her short skirt, it seemed that others assumed that she and Claudia were 'wenches' come to lure customers from the crowd, so she shouldn't be left unattended for long. And indeed, hands boldly groped Claudia's bottom and pinched her waist several times as she waded through.

"Excuse me! Worthy priest... I am a paladin of Jaris. If you could just give me a moment with the accused, perhaps I could... erm... get him to confess to his dark crimes so that a noblewoman like Miss Sterling doesn't need to risk herself for no good reason..." she said, speaking in the best Dwarvish she could muster.

Graldir makes a reaction roll towards Claudia. She adds +1 for a higher status than him, +4 for "beautiful", and +1 for fashion sense. However this particular dwarf is a misogynist (Intolerance level 3) which adds -3 penalty. 1, 3, 2 + 3 = 9, "poor". Any requests will be denied.

The old dwarf gave a glare of weary disdain to Claudia and did not even dignify her words with a response. One of his attendants gave Claudia a shove back. "Paladin? What a lot of rot. Back of the line, trollop. Save your breath and go try and convince your foolish friend if you're so concerned about her."

Graldir went on speaking. "However, the accuser's plea for a rematch is denied. Not only did he lose once but the lad's in a sorry state at this point, and hasn't the proper arms to do it in any case. As luck would have it, I have brought with me form the dwarven lands, at considerable risk and expense, some prisoners that I was going to use for the ritual feats of battle prowess to consecrate a new shrine to the Conquering King in these human lands. The trial will begin immediately. If, at any time, the 'champion'," he snorted derisively, "of the accused sorcerer wishes to call for aid from a man - which would be sensible since she's a wisp of a human girl who knows nothing of real battle and is about to learn first hand what that means - she is welcome to do so, if she no longer trusts that Bruudalf would grant his favor to her to prevail against such a beast. In recognition of her weakness the subject of this trial by ordeal won't be given any weapons or armor. But I don't think that would be enough to make most girls feel safe. Far from it, heh."

"Beast...?" Claudia felt a knot in her stomach. "What... what did you bring here? This is a daughter of one of the city's most prominent..."

She was merely ignored. Sterling grinned and drew her broadsword, flicking it dramatically out in front of her. "I accept!"

Several of the scruffy dwarves looked nervously at one another before one, a man with a brand on his cheek, was pushed forward and gingerly stepped up to undo a padlock on the tarp-covered figure at the other end of the ring. Mere seconds after the lock clicked open, a meaty green fist tore through the thick cloth, then another, and soon it was ripped in half dramatically, causing the crowd to gasp and back away. A great expanse of scarred green-gray flesh, rippling with muscle, was revealed. An ugly, heavy jawed, hairless head swiveled, taking in the inhabitants of the tent with savage disdain, before focusing on the dwarf who'd unlocked the chains.

It was an orc! And not just any orc, but a particularly massive one, clearly a champion warrior by the extent of the scars tracing his powerful body. The one who'd come close to unlock the chains was a bit slow in backing away, and the towering green brute's hand shot out and grabbed him by the crown of his head. "Yes..." the beast spoke in a rumbling voice. "The Overchief promise me that I have chance to redeem myself before I found self before him in afterlife... the honor of a pampered human princess will be good sacrifice, yes." he said in broken human tongue.

Claudia frantically went over her knowledge of the law in her mind. If she saw a terrible injustice about to take place, she had to do something about it even if it meant challenging the rites of another god. She started trying to push her way back to the other end of the ring where Sterling was, to reach the gate to enter it. Unarmed and unarmored... surely if she lent a hand, worn out though she was, she could help prevent the foolhardy Sterling from being overwhelmed? She had ****, really. She'd heard all too many times what orcs did with captured human women (and young, handsome men, for that matter), and somehow she suspected that allowing one of the subjects of her first trial as a paladin to be publicly **** by a massive orc would count as a failure in the "safeguarding her virtue" department, even moreso than if Sterling's gorgeous cousin Yvonne made a scene with her would-be girlfriend at dinner.

A new round of combat begins! The orc has the highest speed and will act first, followed by Sterling and then Claudia. Claudia's reduced move means it will take her 3 rounds to get to the entry gate. Sterling is choosing not to charge in but to advance cautiously. The orc is 12 yards away from Sterling. Because Donna and Angelo do not have "legal immunity" like Claudia does they can't interrupt to help.