For the Title of Champion of the Capital

4th Madidae, the 31th day of the month of Semens (Sem), the 3672nd year of Salvation's Landing

It took some for what was heard to process. Was that really Reglin Farmstedt? Was that really the same boy from the streets all those years ago? The boy that, when time would allow, would run like a blur playing their games. Time seldom allowed it though. The boy had a work ethic and was constantly running his messages from shop to shop earning whatever coin he could. Doing such a great job that he gained the attention of the palace, and soon little Reg was no longer running the streets.

“… You think I could wear something like that?” the voice broke through the fugue that was in Cote’s head. His wife looked at him with a mischievous smile. Gods, she was a beauty. He had definitely done something right in a previous life to earn her love in this one. Her face changed when she noticed a lack of comprehension on his face. Her eyes narrowed slightly. “I said: did you see what the high bloods seem to be wearing more of these days? They are just putting their lovely tits on display for all to see… And do you think I could pull it off?”

That was the source of the mischievous smile then. Cote could not help but smile widely then, “Of course you could, Love. Not only do yours be more magnificent, but we know they work how they should too.” He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close as she gave him a playful slap on the arm.

“What do ya mean that Mamma’s tits work, Da?” The purely innocent voice came from his son Stin who sat atop Cote’s broad shoulders. The four-year-old’s words reminded the husband and wife that that they shouldn’t be so casual in their flirtations.

“The big oaf of a man that is your father is just saying that my breasts did their job in making you grow big and strong as a baby is all, Stin” Sure, now she talks all proper Cote thought to himself as she glared at him.

“And they will be making your baby brother or sister who’s on their way big and strong too. But if they’re not, it’s gonna be on you as the older brother to look after em’” Cote said, twisting his head to look up at the boy. Stin’s face looked thoughtful before nodding as if accepting this assignment.

His wife, Seeri looked at Cote with calculating eyes once more, “So where did we lose you to there, husband?” Her hand went to his belly and gently caressed him while looking up at him inquisitively.

Giving a small shrug, Cote downplayed where his mind had gone, “Just a bit of nostalgia is all, wife.” He pointed out to Reglin as he stood off by the small stone building, “That guardsman there? I used to run the streets with him from time to time in my younger days.”

Seeri’s brow went up as she looked at the man in the distance, “Oh? Can tell from the distance, but maybe I should have waited around for him, eh my love?”

Her words were clearly jesting and Cote chuckled at them, “Maybe dear, maybe…” He looked at his wife with a wide smile, “Might’ve avoided bein’ a Smith’s wife if ya had. Could’ve saved you a good bit of heartache with the laundry.”

Once again a playful slap came to his thickly-muscled shoulder, “No joking like that, Cote. A smith is a noble trade. And you’ve a noble heart. Just because some man might look quite the treat doesn’t mean I’ll go wandering.” The sternness in her voice told him in no uncertain terms that she was serious about this.

There was always a bit of uncertainty that rose up in his mind when he looked at his gorgeous wife. Why would the lovely auburn-haired beauty choose him to settle down with. The son of a Smith who would follow in his father’s steps and smith as well. Not the life he would imagine for her. He imagined that she would fit in at any of these high-bloods balls or galas. He had even said as much to her and was quickly rebutted with Seeri’s accounts of Cote’s virtues and honor.

He shook his head and snickered to himself before continuing on with his own accounting of the messenger boy that would come around the ally to play for small increments of time before running off to run another message, “By the time you and your family came to the neighborhood, I think Reg was already running messages for the palace, so you never got a chance to meet the lil guy.”

Tilting her head, the twinkle in Seeri’s eyes showed that she was interested in the story he was going on about. Meanwhile, on the parade ground two of the guards had begun their match, probing each other with feints and jabs. Stin up on his shoulders was watching the match as it was starting to gain in intensity. But the boy was listening apparently, “You know the big guy, da?”

Nodding slightly at the boy before looking down at his wife, “He’s a year or two younger than me. He would run messages from the various shopkeeps around the city. He always was a hard worker. A bunch of us would always shake our heads at him as he would bolt off to earn some coins. He was a boy possessed.” He looked out at Reglin as he leaned against the wall of the stone building. “He was a bit of a runt during those days. Things have changed obviously…”

They were quiet for a bit, aside from some oohs and ahs or cheers. As they watched, the wide Nordling with the dual bearded axes seemed to be gaining the advantage, pushing the spearwielder backwards. Luckily for the Westerner was comfortable falling backwards. It was not too long before the spearwielder found a spot and exploited it. Soon he had the Nordling falling backwards.

“Da, you think he’s bigger than you?” Stin said as he pointed to Reglin. “He’s far… You think maybe? You always been biggest ‘round.” In the eyes of your child, father always appears to be the biggest, strongest guy around. But Cote could tell even from this distance.

He nodded again, “Yes son, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was almost a head taller than me. I wouldn’t know for certain unless we got closer.” But smithing gave Cote a broader set of shoulders. But squinting and looking closer, he wasn’t sure if he had him by much.

“Meh… You still stronger.” Cote’s son with the utmost certainty. The wide-shouldered smith couldn’t help but chuckle at the unshakable confidence the boy had. “Oooh! Lookidat!” Stin yelled at the eruption of action on the parade ground.

Axes had stepped back just enough so that when Spear gave a lunging thrust, he was able to chop a parry on the haft, sending it downward. With a speed belying the Nord man’s size, he quickly stamped down with a boot, slamming the spearhead into the earth. With a cocking of his hips, he then kicked out with his other foot and snapping the spear shaft in half at the middle. In a flurry, Axes brought his weapons downward at Spear but stopped when the unarmed man was already holding his hands up at his sides. There was quick moment of silence before the all the stands erupted in cheers with Axes winning the first match of the late morning.

Cote had been impressed with the big Nordling’s speed. Reminiscent of a bear, big and powerful, but deceptively fast as well. If this was a round-robin tournament, Cote was interested to see just how much Reglin had changed if he was to match blades with Axes and come away victorious.

A gravelly voice spoke up as it was approaching Cote and his family’s location, “Miss the first match, did I?” The throng of people parted for the ancient boulder of a man that was Cote’s father.

“Papa! The guy with two axes beat the guy with a spear! But it wasn’t fast. Too bad ya missed it!” Cote could feel Stin wriggling on his shoulders and so he lifted him off and gave him to Arn, his mastersmith of a father.

The smile on the Grandfather’s face was a wide one. Few had the ability to split the old man’s face in two, but Stin was surely one of them. Cote had no doubt that the gnarled muscle of man’s next grandchild would have the same capability. He had been hard on Cote as a father, but seeing him with his own son, Cote couldn’t help but smile himself.

“Two axes beat a spear, you say? That’s some feat, I must say!” The gravelly voice lent itself to an appropriate amount of wonder to match the boy’s storytelling. “But who’s up next? I can catch up on what I missed afterward.”

It was Cote’s turn to do a bit of storytelling, “Do you remember that boy way back in the day that used to run messages? Kinda a runty kid named Reglin. Used to call him Reg…”

Though stooped in the shoulders a bit, his father was still strong in his stance while holding his grandson on a shoulder. He squinted his eyes as he thought, “Yea, I think I do… think I mighta used the lad a couple o’ times. What about him?”

Cote nodded his head toward the parade ground. “That big man out there getting ready for the next match? That’s that the little runt of a kid…”

Arn’s head rocked back in mock shock, “Whoa! Lil’ runt no more apparently! Big bastard, aint he!” He looked up at Stin on his shoulders, “Ya think he’s bigger than your dad, boy?”

“Grampa, language! Da and Mama have already said naughty words!” Both Seeri and Cote chuckled at that, “Buuut… He might be bigger than Da, but I bet Da’s stronger than him.” Once again, the certainty made all present smile in amusement.

“Hmmm… Mayhaps boy. But he’s a big bastard, like I said…” He looked at Cote then, “Who’s he facing then?”

“They said it’s a round-robin between the three guardsmen. It looks like he’s going up against the spear-wielder.” He nodded once more as they saw the two fighters moving their weapons around, warming up a little more, though Spear shouldn’t need it.

The Magicker that they called the Caller came back out as the two participants made a show of loosening their shoulders and legs. The voice boomed, letting all present know the current combatants were in case they missed the initial introductions. Given the fact that he had just lost, the spearman, Wat, received a much less enthusiastic ovation from those attending. Crowds were fickle it seemed.

When the Caller introduced Reglin, the crowd showed a far more passionate response. Cote also noted that there was an incredible amount of volume coming from the woman contingent of the audience. After his name was called, Cote’s dad just muttered, “Well, by the gods’ massive balls…”. Cote could only chuckle. Though Cote also noticed Stin and Seeri both cheering with a fervor that was new. Perhaps it was the fact that they had a connection, albeit a loose one to the large guardsman.

With the Caller finished with his ceremonies, the man made his way toward the grandstand this time, settling down with some of the High Blood types as one would expect of an arcanist.

Reglin took a defensive stance with his smaller weapon in his front hand as the two men circled each other slowly, orbiting outside the range of danger. That small dagger, probably a swordbreaker, but he couldn’t be sure from this distance, looked incredibly small in Reglin’s hand. Cote thought that he could make something a bit more in scale to the big man. With that thought whirling around in his mind, he watched his occasional childhood playmate fight for the right to represent the Capital in the councils to come next week.

The Westerner, Wat was hesitant to extend himself given that if he were to lose, he would be out of the tournament. His feints lacked even enough conviction to draw Reglin to react. For his part, Reglin had settled down and was almost completely still with his left side forward. Cote wondered what his game was to stand to flatfooted.

Wat’s jabs and feints were becoming more frantic but received no reaction all the same. Reglin’s arms were up and at guard, but that was about it. The crowd had hushed to near silence with the lack of energy on display. Not the greatest of showmanship to be sure. That is, until Wat’s anxiety got the better of him. From where Cote stood it looked as though he thrusted forward at the center mass of Reglin, lunging forward more than he had thus far. With lightning-like explosiveness, Reglin made a pincer with his two weapons on both sides of the spear haft just below the head of the weapon. In a powerful but fluid motion, the bigger fighter pulled hard. Instead of flowing back with the pull though, Reglin pivoted on his front foot. The move continued the thrust of the spear forward to the spot that Reglin no longer was, as well as taking Wat well off balance.

The spin brought his sword arm around first and the dulled practice blade thudded loudly into the back armor of the Westerner. In amazingly fast succession the swordbreaker looked like it thrusted into the rib area of the spearman’s armor before the sword arm’s momentum carried the weapon passed the front of Wat before Reglin reversed the motion and brought it forward once more, thudding it into the other man’s chest plate.

It was a blur that Cote had to check his mental recall to see if what he thought he saw was what actually happened. He thought that was what happened, and Wat fell to one knee and bowed his head. The crowd that was still unusually silent seemed gob smacked by the flurry. It took a few seconds before there was an enormous eruption of clapping, yells, and whistles. His own family cheering loudly, Cote shook his head in astonishment. Arn turned to look Cote in the eye with a brow raised almost completely to his hairline, “Lad’s grown up, eh?” He followed that with a snort of a laugh.

Cote gave a shrug of the shoulders and a quirk of his brow, “Seems he has, eh?” Seeri was torn between looking at what was happening on the parade ground and the small talk between her husband and his father. He couldn’t fault her really. Even he had to admit that this grown version of Reglin was an imposing figure.

The Caller had started to make his way out to the parade ground from the grandstand where the nobles were seated. Once onto the grounds, the arcanist bellowed with his magick-enhanced voice, “Well… that was… efficient…” The man cleared his throat, “There was a beauty in the precision, to be sure! The young Reglin has shown himself to be quite a contender. But now! To represent the capital! Reglin!” And the wide-bodied Nordling made his way out in front of Reglin, “And Girsk!” He paused, “There is no more need for me to elaborate. Let the men decide their fate!” The crowd fell into pandemonium at that while the Caller walked back to the grandstand.

The two combatants gave salutary clashes of weapons before taking their stances and match began in truth. Once again there was little action at the start. Both men stayed at a safe distance for Girsk with his shorter handaxes. He was handicapped a bit with the lack of range. Cote figured the man figured this out and really did what he had to do. Exploding into motion, the two axes swung with such rapidity that the younger smith had a hard time tracking the strikes. They came at Reglin from varying angles in hopes to find the hole in the bigger man’s defense. Much to the Nordling’s dismay though, Reglin chose to not intercept the blows and instead countered with footwork and maneuvering.

Pressing the attack as he might, Cote thought there was no feasible way for the Northern warrior to keep such a pace. A man his size would run low on stamina in a relative short period of time. Yet, when using axes it was wisest to tack advantage of the fact that the weapons were not easily defended against. It was also true that axes were not the greatest of weapons in a defensive role as well. So, in theory Girsk was making the correct calculation if you would ask Cote. It just happened to be that Reglin was not willing to play his part in the fight. Instead, the big man danced about the grounds with such a light step that Cote thought that he could be a dancer.

As the attacks started to slow as one would presume considering the sprint-like opening from Girsk, Reglin stopped dodging somewhat and was now countering with the occasional parry. Even those, the taller warrior made look effortless. The crowd had seemed to find their favorite, signified with a simple two-syllable chant of “Reg-Lin!”. His childhood playmate played a bit to the crowd it seemed then, letting some of the swings from Girsk pass dangerously close before being nullified in some fashion. With each failed pass the crowd erupted for a few moments before settling back into their now familiar chant.

Visibly taxed now, Girsk chose to fall back for what was more than likely a direly needed gasp of breath. Reglin seemed to honor the need in his opponent and let him withdraw unmolested. But only for a few moments. It was then that the former message boy began his press his advantage. Girsk tried his best to keep the dual blades of the dagger and sword from him, but Cote knew it was only a matter of time. Before long Girsk had to resort to desperation and tried to counterattack. In doing so, a blunted sword blade stuck the inside area of Girsk’s right forearm and sent the bearded ax flying off.

A gasp went up from the crowd as the weapon twirled end over end off away from Girsk. Cote knew just by watching this and previous match that it was all but over. Sure, strange things could happen in a fight, but young Reglin seemed to be far too crafty a fighter to fall for something that would give the Northman his chance. Cote had to shake his head at how Reglin fought in a way that appeared to be far beyond his years.

Girsk switched his ax to his right hand, obviously his primary hand and came at the bigger Polivandrian with gusto. Cote had to give it to the man, he gave credence to the tales of the Nordlings lack of interest in surrender. A hearty bunch it would appear. But whatever intestinal fortitude they might possess, it was obviously not a match for Reglin. Once again, his old friend moved with a grace unfair to see in someone his size. Dodging the ax swing with his body, he followed it up with a dagger thrust into the exposed armpit, a sword slash that thudded bluntly into the belly of Northerner, and another dagger thrust into the inner thigh of opposite leg as Reglin all but danced around him.

The wide Nordling fell to ground unceremoniously. Once again there was a hush that came before the cacophony of the crowd. In no time the ‘Reg-lin’ had started back up. Cote wasn’t interested in all the fanfare Reglin was receiving, his own voice would count for little in the tumult. Instead, he watched how his childhood playmate carried himself. The smith watched as Reglin went over and checked on Girsk. The man seemed to be fine enough and took the offered hand that Reglin ended up offering once the Nordling’s well-being was accounted for. Once standing, Girsk took the hand that had helped him up and raised it skyward, the movement a reinforcement of Reglin’s victory. The wide Northman was smiling and pointing at Reglin, causing the crowd to erupt once more with renewed enthusiasm.

He had not noticed that the Caller was once more heading out from the Grandstand. Or the fact that the Crown Prince was down at the edge of the stands. Once his attention was brought to the Magicker it was right when he began to address the audience.

“Well…” Dramatic pause for effect, “It appears that the Capital has its Champion for the upcoming week.” Another pause for the crowd to cheer once more. “It would seem that we now can see why those witches in the West were handled so easily! But!” Another pause. “As masterful as Master Reglin was, there was a brevity to it… So, how about we add something a bit more challenging!”

~This is knowledge for the Reader~

The Affection Multiplier

~Mana: 2646 (+3149 ) 5795~

~Mana Channels: ~Labiae Passionii (Lips of Passion) free, ~ Corpu Vigorii (Vigorous Body) 100, ~ Uirtau Proelium (Martial Prowess) 100, ~Mensu Lucidae (Bright Mind) 100, ~ Tactu Beatae (Blissful Touch) 100, ~Plurem Amatrixae Normalii (The Normalcy of Many Loves) 500, ~Corpu Libidaem (Lustful Body) 100, ~Corpu Spectabilum (Intimidating Body) 100, ~Mentulae Potencii (Potent Cock) 150, ~Limbu Infinitum (Endless Loins) 100, ~Voluptae Gustatum (Delightful Flavor, Gratify the Appetite), ~Figurae Cultura (Shaping Culture), ~Vulgum Venerae (The Love of the Masses), ~Corpu Vigorii Magii (A More Vigorous Body) 400, ~Fluxii Magickae (The Flow of Magick - Yelena Polivander) 500

~Lovers~ A: 300 E: 300 L: 300
~Tabitha~ Affectionae: 100 Erosii: 100 Libidae: 100 (Effective 87)
~Asha~ A: 100 E: 100 L: 100 (Effective 90)
~Princess Yelena~ A: 100 E: 100 L: 100 (Effective 81)

~Royal Polivander House~ A: -13 (+20) 7 L: 13 (+5) 18
~King Oren~ A: 10 (+4) 14
~Queen Delliah~ A: 8 (+3) 11
~Princess Katya~ A: -30 (+6) -24 L: 7 (+4) 11
~Princess Cirsha~ A: 27 (+5) 32 L: 6 (+1) 7
~Crown Prince Tilan~ A: -8 (+2) -6

~Nobles~ A: 137 (+6) 143 E: 13 (+1) 14 L: 93 (+8) 101
~Lady Wilmyna~ A: 77 (+2) 79 E: 13 (+1) 14 L: 66 (+3) 69
~Lady Falina~ A: 31 (+1) 32 L: 11 (+2) 13
~Lady Vidala~ A: 29(+3) 32 L: 16 (+3) 19

~Royal and Noble maidens~ A: 270 (+17) 287 E: 28 (+4) 32 L: 189 (+22)
~Maiden Caterine~ A: 32(+2) 34 E: 2 (+1) 3 L: 12 (+4) 16
~Maiden Gwynfuir~ A: 20 (+1) L: 0 (+2) 2
~Maiden Erynna~ A: 15(+2) 17 L: 2 (+2) 4
~Maiden Oliyah~ A: 78 (+4) 82 E: 18 (+2) 20 L: 63 (+4) 67
~Maiden Iridia~ A: 11 (+2) 13 L: 2 (+1) 3
~Maiden Freighla~ A: 81 (+3) 84 E: 8 (+1) 9 L: 72 (+3) 75
~Maiden Deela~ A: 19 (+1) L: 2 (+2) 4
~Maid Camilla~ A: 33 (+2) 35 L: 38 (+4) 42

~Day watch~ A: 262 (+7) 269 E: 6 (+2) 8
~Grahm~ A: 49 (+3) 52
~Lim~ A: 68 (+3) 71 E: 5 (+1) 6
~Boll~ A: 45 (+1) 46 E: 1(+1) 2
~Halpern~ A: 29
~Nimit~ A: 22
~Gamil~ A: 10
~Magnurs~ A: 14
~Canith~ A: 12
~Yohan~ A: 9
~Sebestin~ A: 5
~Yorick~ A: 5

~Evening watch~ A: 24 (+4) 28
~Thedin~ A:10
~Vorn~ A: 12
~Wat~ A: 2 (+4) 6

~Night watch~ A: 8 (+4) 12
~Girsk~ A: 3 (+4)

~Palace Staff~ A: 69 (+8) 77 L: 10 (+4) 14
~Lina~ A: 50 (+2) 52 L: 7 (+2) 9
~Govren~ A: 12 (+4) 16
~Shonda~ A: 17 (+2) 19 L: 3 (+2) 5

~People of Polivandria~ A:2186 (+3037) 5223