The wrestling pit

Hearing the shouts at the wrestling pit pulls you in that direction; perhaps because it seems like the least kingly of all the possible entertainments! You're able to make your way through the crowd with surprising ease, considering how tightly they are packed; it's almost as though they've been kind enough to leave a path, and soon you've made your way right up to the rope fence.

The pits had been Captain Navarre's notion. "Festivals bring out the best in people, but they can also bring out the worst," he had said. "There's a certain type of man who always needs to start a fight; a few such men can trigger a riot without really even intending to. So, we give them a place where they can toss each other around to their hearts' content, and those who want no part of such things can simply avoid that area. We'll keep a few watchmen nearby, of course, to ensure things don't get out of hand."

Four pits have been set up, each of them a shallow depression in the earth with eight tent poles strung with ropes, to make a rough circle. Rules have been established, but they are simple by necessity. No fighting outside the ring, no weapons allowed, and when a man yields the fight is done. A city watchman at each ring may stop the bout at any time. Other than that, pretty much anything goes!

The two men facing off in front of you now seem less than evenly matched; one of them is much larger than the other, an inch or two taller than you with bulky arms. The other is smaller, lighter on his feet; his technique is clearly more refined, but that doesn't change the fact that his opponent has three stone on him -

- and suddenly, he learns that lesson himself, as the larger man comes at him and simply slams into him, knocking him to the ground. Then, the big man scoops him up in both arms, hoists him into the air, and begins to squeeze.

"Do you yield?" he bellows.

The other man shakes his head, struggling... and then his eyes seem to bulge out as the grip around his waist tightens.

"Do... you... yield?" the big man asks again, squeezing harder with each word.

A weak nod is all the response his opponent can muster... and when he is released, he collapses to the dirt and gasps for air. The victor roars out in triumph, and then offers a hand to his fallen adversary to help him back to his feet. The crowd gives out a cheer, and you can tell by the interaction in the ring that this was not a serious fight, but just two men challenging each other for sport.

"Well, what's this?" the big man calls out. "I thought I was all out o' comers, but I see there's still someone else who thinks he can tangle with me, after all!"

You notice with some concern that he's staring directly at you! A glance to either side reveals that you seem to have a respectable amount of space at the rope, despite the fact that the crowd is gathered three and four people deep everywhere else around the perimeter. Your stomach drops slightly as you realize why it was so easy for you to approach the ring - you're standing in the challenger's circle!

"Well, come on then," the man shouts, laughing heartily. "Get out of that rich boy's shirt and get in here! Just because no one's placing any bets against me anymore, that doesn't mean I'm done here!" He grabs a skin filled with water from one of the onlookers and drains it, then turns back and beckons you into the ring.

You could probably back down without making too much of a scene; after all, this man has clearly shown some impressive fighting prowess so far, and as you are strangers to each other there is no honor to be lost by declining his challenge. Still, you feel a stirring that you haven't felt in years... it's been far too long since you had a good tussle, and maybe this is exactly what you need to blow off a little steam!