Chapter 001: Fired and Forgotten! Scene 001

"Tuono," I simply declare, arms crossed, scanning the small crowd from behind a pair of round lenses made from shards of the dragon Siberys.
My muscular build and clear orcish heritage would already make me stand out, but the sophisticated prosthetic that replaces my entire right arm makes me even more recognizable.
I wear my hair in a mohawk with a tail, and I’m dressed in black leather clothes and boots that offer at least some protection. A tattoo (or something like it) seems to peek out from beneath my sleeve, on the inside of my left forearm.

In what would be stark contrast to Tuono if "stark" or "contrast" fit at all, another man, slightly above average with features and coloration which coupd be mistaken as being from a number of places, depending on the light. He moves with the crowd yet seems to touch no one. He is dressed in the local fashion of the day with clothes which could have been bought in any market in the city this morning and may well have been. A plain dagger is worn at his waist along with several pouches.

"Lusambar" he introduces himself when asked, though that is not the name he was born with, nor even the most used in his life, it is his current name and the one he intends to be known by in Clifftop.

The audience shuffles around to get a better view of the slim elf making their way to the front. Her pace is easy as she proceeds. She has no need to rush or push as the crowd closest to her steps back, all the better to take in her presence.

Her clothes are simple, elegant in scarlet and ebony, and perfectly complement the wearer. A bow, quiver, and curved sword hang at her side, and over her shoulder an Oud is slung.

She stops, executes an elegant bow.

"Gentle beings and spirits. I am Caelyth."

"Skill is what we shall bring here today. The guts..." She pauses to wink and make a comic grimace, "We shall leave for our opponents to display!"

The simple dressed human followed the others who had stepped forward, brown leathers worn over a plain shirt, brown leather bracers covered his forearms. Of average height with and athletic build, his brown hair fell to his shoulders while his grey eyes scanned those others who had stepped forward. He might be any laborer or soldier, except for an assortment weapons which which the man carried. Two long swords were strapped to his back, a brace of throwing knives worn on his chest, with a long knife at his waist. A few other less visible blades were also available within easy reach.

His gaze rested on the half orc with the magical arm, giving the man a nod of acknowledgement. A smile crossed his face at the jest of the elf, she certainly had made a point.

"TalZerai" the man said simply as he stood casually waiting for whatever happened next.

My lips curl into a grin.
"If the last one to activate the talisman is the winner, that means the last one to jump wins. However… it wouldn’t be honorable for a member of the Clifftop Guild to shove their opponents off, ghgh! So it looks like I’ll be making it down to Lower Dura without ever using the talisman."

With that, I scan below for a skycoach, a gargoyle, a giant owl, or anything else flying under me that I could leap onto.

TalZerai stepped right up the edge, a slight smile crept across his face. "Or the winner dies when they hit the bottom. How badly do you want to win?"

There was a sparkle in his eyes as his reached into his mind, wrapping himself within within the telekinetic power, feeling the power gather around him.

He took two steps off the edge and hovered there for a moment, "Would be cheating to just wait here I suppose."

With a wink, he dropped...

Trying not to get distracted by my old, arrogant comrade-in-arms, my Careful eye scans the flow of skycoaches and flying creatures below. I’m used to picking out prey in the middle of a crowd; in moments like this, time almost seems to slow down for me. And then I see it… a skycoach from the "Roo" company. I couldn’t ask for better.

I leap!

Lusambar endeavors to be neither the first nor the last to leap off and does so without flourish or fanfare. His goal is to reach the bottom neither first nor last. He gauges his position amongst the fallers and subtly lightens and broaden's his body to control his speed and keep his position in the pack, never falling fastest or slowest to the best of his ability.

Caelyth turns to face to face the audience, her back to the fall.

"I do not fear death" she sings

Lusambar angles towards the washing line, looking to swing around it to arrest her fall to stay towards (but not at) the back of the pack.edit to add:

Lusambar deftly snags the line and as he swings, pulls a cloak off and subtly uses his own magic to arrest his fall, making it look like he is using the cloak as a parachute.

I spot it at the very last moment, just as I’m aiming for the skycoach.
"Damn it..."
I try a Quick mid-air roll to avoid the line… even though it’s not exactly my specialty!

The sudden gust of wind at the start and TalZerai knew he was already in trouble. He was moving too much sideways, but as he was trying to angle himself into a better descent, the wash line appeared.

"Blast"

Which is exactly what he did - a large burst of telekinetic force to arrest his direction and miss the line.

Lusambar continues to monitor the 'competition'. He floats down as slowly as possible, to keep the last faller in close proximity. If it's a deathgate adept, he'll take a moment to study the magic they are using, so that he can disrupt it.

High enough that they have time to save themselves, low enough that they can't recast their levitation spell. he thinks to himself.

Seeing the line in frot of their fall. Caerlth tries to adeptly directy her path to avoid it

I’ve just dodged the washing line when a new obstacle forces me into another quick tumble! I curse both the Sovereigns and the Flame together.

Lusambar angles his cloak and his body to drift away from the glass, continuing to monitor his place in the pack.

TalZerai was frustrated at how things were going. With his power, he had done brief flight before, so he has expected to do better, but the bad luck at the start had only escalated with each passing moment.

Seeing the next challenge, "Who does that?!"

Of course, who throws themselves off of a building as a sport.

TalZerai focused his power to try to slow his fall and angle away from it.

Rather than try to avoid the glass Caelyth aim straight for it. Shaping her body straight as an arrow, biringing the tip of her blade above her head. With enough force she hopes to shatter the glass in a spectacular spray of fragments.

As I plummet, watching Caelyth’s move, I exclaim with some satisfaction: "Foolish bard…"

Lusambar nods internally without visible motion. He gauges his speed relative to the others and adjusts his rate of fall to place himself ahead of Talzerai, keeping an eye on him to ensure that Lusambar breaks his token just before he does (or before the ground if he wants to show off by landing without ever using it.)

TalZerai noticed that the rival guild had all bowed out of the competition and all who remained were his fellow members. They had won the challenge, now all that remained was who among them would take the final crown. He remembered the comment from Tuono at the start that the winner would be the one who did not use the feather token at all.

TalZerai considered the ground as it was just coming into view. He knew he could do it, exert his telekinetic force and land without injury. He had carried his full weight before, but stopping a full fall was different, more mass and velocity to counter act. He had to admit that thus far luck had not been on his side.

A heartbeat passed as the ground grew closer...

He could do it... but he was already feeling the strain of the effort he had put in. It had taken more effort to dodge the obstacles than he had expected. Such a display as landing would require a great deal more than he had already done. Was the literal headache worth showing off when there was nothing at stake but some prideful bosting?

A heartbeat passed as the ground grew closer...

He could do it... but 'The gifts of Zerai were not for games' he could hear his father's disapproving tone in his head even as he fell. Of course his father would have disapproved of this entire contest, just as he had disapproved of Tal going off to fight in the war.

A heartbeat passed... and TalZerai activated his token.

There would be other times to prove himself when the stakes were truly important.

Hundreds of meters of freefall, a couple of obstacles dodged half by luck, shards of glass flying all around, and an elven spellcaster as the rival to beat: if I had to bet, I wouldn’t bet on myself! Unless… I can manage to latch onto that blasted skycoach down there… after all, what’s the point of a magical prosthetic if not for this?

As I pass close to the Roo company skycoach I spotted from above, I try to hook onto the railing with my mechanical arm.

Caelyth continues to fall, surrounded by a cloud of glistening sharp fragements.

She can see the ground rising up to meet her at an alarming pace. She is split seconds away from a definitely fatal collision with the ground.

Ah well, she sighs, Perhaps it is not time to join the ancestors just yet.

She triggers the feather fall token. with time enough to arrest her fall and land gracefully.

Lusambar carefully angles the cloak before releasing it at precisely the right time just before his competitor and future guildmate.

I toss my talisman into the air and catch it again.
"Tsk… in the end, the elf still beat me!"

I smile — not that I really care, honestly.
At least now I’ve got a feather fall talisman I can use if the need arises, I think to myself. Then I walk over to the others to offer my congratulations in good spirit (and to throw a sarcastic jab at my former comrade-in-arms, TalZerai).

"What happened to you, friend? A sudden attack of vertigo? Haha!"
I give him a pat on the shoulder, then light up a cigar.

Caelyth beams back at the crowd, affecting a bow to each quarter to acknowledge the crowd.

She opens her arms to indicate her fellows and the Death's Gate competitors, as one would do to acknowledge the cast of a stage performance.

Her voice, clear as a bell, rings out to the audience, "Witness the courage of all our fellow competitors. We hope that this diversion entertained you."

Another bow.

While the applause lasts Caelyth's attention is only for the crowd.

When the crowd subsides a little Caelyth turns to the others. Her face is flush with the excitement of the fall, but also the response from the crowd.

"Well met Ortoto, Mort. Interesting sport eh? In truth, I only had eyes for these cobbles." She stomps her feet to attest to the solid ground and laughs.

"Let's have some wine together when this is done. Good company and stories are always a welcome end to the day."

"Tuono, TalZerai, Lusambar. Well done! It seems all of us arrived in one piece."

TalZerai landed softly and adjusted his weapons to make sure everything was in place. He joined the others as the contestants gathered to congratulate the winner.

TalZerai laughed warmly at Tuono's jab, "Nothing so grand, humbled by a simple gust of wind. I would have been better off staying at the top I think. Still smoking those disgusting things I see."

He nodded his congratulations to Caelyth, "Congratulations. A daring move. One piece indeed... I'm amazed you got through the glass without a scratch. I'm sure those above are still cursing the elf which smashed through their hard work."

Lusambar fades into the background while Caelyth takes her accolades. As the crowd starts to thin he makes his way back to the group of competitors. "An experience most will miss, lacking the spark that makes one jump into the void. Though, in truth, most don't have the faith in such a trifling seeming trinket."

"The truth of it is that I had neither the skills or the talent to avoid the collision. It was as much as I could do to get my weapon in the way," Caelyth shrugs admits to TalZerai.

"And, I'm sure that the owners will understand, given the circumstances," She laughs, "But, if not - all the more reason to spend my remaining coin on wine to put it beyond their reach."

"That sounds like a great idea," I reply to Caelyth. "Though maybe not here in a Lower Dura tavern… at best you might find some passable hippocras."

With that, I nod to the driver of the skycoach I grabbed onto earlier (and who might still be cursing me).
"Hey friend, can you take us back up to the upper city?"

Lusambar, usually hesitant to speak first, hears the call for urgency in questioning.

"If we encounter any trouble, what are our guidelines?"

Caelyth takes Lhara hand.

"We are pleased you were impressed and we are happy to perform this duty for you."

"My companion asks a sensible question. Can we expect anyone in paricular to intercept the order, or are you merely urging us to caution?"

The swordsman accepted the guild leader's offered hand. Obviously she had planned to give this assignment, being placed at the bottom of the competition. He glanced at their rivals who had been congratulating them, wondering that guild business was so openly discussed. Just a pick up of an item, so no secret mission.

The sensible questions were already being asked. Having nothing else he needed to know, he just waited for the leader to respond.

I blow out two puffs of smoke.
"I suppose we’ll have to postpone the victory celebrations, huh? In the taverns down in the Cogs, we might get served oil instead of wine."

Lusambar hands the cloak he used in the descent to Lhara. "Please see this returned to it's owner."

He takes the credit letter and makes it vanish into a hidden fold in his vest. "We'll take additional precautions once we're out of sight and hearing of others."

While my companions speak with Lhara, I keep an eye on the Deathsgate Guild members to make sure they don’t look too "interested" in our "mission."

Burning Idol... Burning Idol...

As Lhara outlines the details of their mission, and the group discuss precautions, Caelyth is lost in thought. it seems like the name might mean something. Perhaps she'd read something about it in some dusty tome or other.