The Charmer's Challenge

The key to drawing the eyes of the demon, Mympho, lied in standing out amongst a very distracting crowd. Assailing eyes and ears with flashy costumes and loud revelry was one way to accomplish that, but such noise was everywhere in this festival-- what you needed was a legitimate curiosity. Luckily, those were to be found throughout the festival as well, for those willing to overcome certain obstacles to reach them.

The obstacle, in this case, was literally just muscling through a rather thickly packed crowd to reach the event at the center. A man, perhaps some sort of magician, was standing on a raised, wooden platform above the throng of people, standing in front of four chairs. One of the chairs was occupied with an especially gorgeous eastern woman, with red-painted lips, luxurious black hair in a pair of braids over her shoulders. Her very open red dress and gold jewelry made you think she might be another chaos worshipper like Bangaal, but she didn’t have the burning gold eyes eyes or aura of a djinn.

She flashed you a sultry smile as she caught you staring, but the strangely-dressed man soon eclipsed her in your vision. The lower side of his face was visible, but the rest of his head was covered in a strange, silver, bowl-shaped helmet, obscuring his eyes. His outfit was no less gaudy: a noble's finery in red to match his the lady's, with a huge, gold-embroidered ascot tucked into his dinner jacket. He spread his arms out wide and projected his voice like an expert showman.

It struck you that while the tastefulness of his manner of dress was questionable, nothing else about him was cheap-- not his taste in women nor his props and equipment. This was a man with some experience in playing crowds and making money doing it.

"I'm not here for your money," the barker interrupted your thoughts, as though he'd somehow read them. "I ask only for your attention! Well, a little more than that. My name is Chautery, and I have come to this charming little town from my grand stage in the capital to perform for all of you, along with my lovely wife, Dahlia! Everyone, give Dahlia a hand," he insisted, soliciting a wave of applause and standing aside for a moment to show off his eye-catching assistant once again. She smiled and gave a small wave, seeming to enjoy the attention.

The man tapped upon his helmet with two fingers, then smirked. "My talent and trade is that of a Charmer-- I am one of the world's few human psionic masters, more powerful than even the demon army's brain eaters. With a slight exertion of my mental prowess, I can bend any and all to do my bidding. Don't believe me? I am here today to show you the extent of my capabilities! And if you enjoy this slight demonstration, you will certainly enjoy the full show, available in the royal capital for an appropriate fee."

After clearing his throat, Chautery seemed to scan the audience, despite having his eyes completely covered. When his head turned in your direction, a grin rose back onto his face. "You there, a squire, with two lovely, faithful saintesses. I claim today that using my incredible powers, which defy even Geod himself, I am capable of swaying your saintesses. I propose a challenge: face me, squire. You have Geod on your side and I have my psionic abilities. If truly you are favored, you will be able to convince Dahlia to favor you with a kiss. If I am, as I claim, mightier than Geod himself, then I will win a kiss from one of your saintesses!"

It was rare to see such a faithless human in these times, especially at a festival in Geod's honor. It was apparent that if you could manage to defeat this guy on his own terms, you would be something of a festival favorite. The question was whether Chautery was really all he talked himself up to be and, furthermore, whether you and your saintesses had the skill-set to oppose him. You looked to the others for their opinions on the matter.{if Helmid = True}

Predictably, your party's paladin stepped forward with a stern frown. "This charlatan speaks heresy against Geod, Sir Vin. We cannot allow it to go unchecked! Please, allow me to take the challenge. I will not fail you, nor will I fail our sovereign," she offered, pressing one fist to the chest of her minotaur belt.

Her pride and sense of duty were commendable, but you wondered if she was really the right fit for the task. Helmid, with her odd sense of excitement at defying the sanctity of classic marriage, might not be the right person to count on for this task.{endif}{if Amulette = True}"A proliferation of poppycock," Amulette scoffed, standing perched upon the shoulders of a broad-shouldered man who didn't seem to realize she was there. "There is a prank at play that plays poorly with my pride. Choose me and I will chew this charlatan's childish charade until tickets to his little trick trickle down to their true value."

It was no surprise to hear that Amulette had a trick up her sleeve. Would it be something that could outdo Chautery's?{endif}{if Belit = True}

Belit crossed her arms behind her head and sighed. "Guys like this are always running some kind of scam to wring money out of saps, that's how they afford their fancy clothes and stages and shows. The only question is how he's doing it... I mean, the last thing I want to do is kiss that guy, so how hard could it be resist, right?" she asked, flashing a big grin.

You wondered if such confidence was warranted. This didn't sound like an ordinary parlor trick the guy was using...{endif}{if Bangaal = True}

"Oh ho! A psionic contest when Bangaal is present? What foolishness!" your party's djinn chortled, floating about you in a circle. "Bangaal senses from this fool none of the hallmarks of a true practitioner of psionic magics, nor of chaos magic, despite the way he dresses himself. His wife... hm, a little more. Bangaal is intrigued, but not threatened! Please, give Bangaal the opportunity to, how do they say, put this all to bath?"

You corrected her: "bed." That said, you had to figure Bangaal was a pretty safe bet for this sort of contest. These two were wannabe Bangaals-- she was the genuine article.{endif}{if Liens = True}

Liens seemed like a pretty poor choice for this contest, not because it was easy to imagine her falling susceptible, but rather, because she was so put off by the whole hocus pocus aspect, the chauvinism of the guy running the game, and the intended saucy spectacle, that just the thought of asking her to help with it was a little frightening. As if sensing you considering it, she shook her head. "No way. Not doing it. No. Ask the other saintess," she warned you.

Pushing your luck, you told her that you thought she'd be jumping at the chance to disprove this kind of charlatan magic and put this guy in his place.

"With what? He might be a real psionic. That's a real thing. Think. Bangaal? If he can do that. I can't stop him. Not without an invention. Which I don't. You know. Have. I came prepared for many things. Not that."{endif}

{if Rosary = True}You gave a glance to the party healer, wondering how she'd react to this open mockery of Geod. Sure enough, she looked uncharacteristically fierce about it. "W-We cannot allow heresy to stand, not in a setting like this! He's right about one thing: Geod joined us together as squire and saintess. It's nothing less than a fated love! It is impossible to think that this man's magic could sway my vows to you, my husband!"

It was sort of exciting to see her this passionate about the marriage, but her pitch was also a little questionable. Rosary had a lot more faith in Geod than most people and probably hadn't fully admitted to herself that He didn't tend to like to put Himself right in the middle of His follower's affairs, unless it was something like a Geodblow. You didn't see Him stop people from making extramarital kisses on the average case.{endif}