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"If a Persian doesn't exist, then nothing can happen to it!" - the golden rule of gaining experience...
Added 8 minutes later While decent gentlemen are toiling away in the Academy and conducting various "investigations," commoners earn 70 silver coins a day. So this is how "from rags to riches" looks here... They'll probably pay Sandar with gold...
Well, you know, accepting so many tentacles is no small feat; the stakes are high...
E si sui vius, er mi grans benananza, e si ieu muoir, er mi grans deliuriers
Cassius has a serious rival in terms of grimness — this participant has revealed to no one not only his name, but also his face or voice. Wagers have begun among the ladies — most believe he is an ugly freak with a squeaky voice who can do nothing but train with his spear in solitude, while a much smaller number believe he is a famous handsome rogue who has come to the tournament under such a guise. In raw strength, the Nameless One is significantly inferior to the Scarlet, but he is noticeably more agile, and Cassius could swear that the opponent deliberately aims either at the eye slit or at the lower edge of the helmet, closer to the neck...
The assumptions turned out to be wrong. 11 intellect is not a panacea. The alchemist's hand plunges into her bag in search of something that could serve as a scarf or a ribbon. One that sometimes makes you lose your head.
The ribbon from her crazy outfit will do just fine.
Added after 1 minute Oh right -- if you get knocked out of the saddle, there's a chance (endurance against 5) that you won't be able to continue the round. But Cassius isn't in any danger of that anyway.
Added after 2 minutes Heroist
—And good health to you. For the next round. On these. —his hand rises toward Cassius and Gautier. —A silver each. —two mirror coins and one mud coin fall onto the table with a clink, — the clerk's cut.
-- Okay! On the first one the odds are currently 2 to 1, on the second 1.2 to 1. That means you'll net 1 silver and 2 coppers clean.
Added after 8 minutes Happy Life
Nodding at the collegial approval, she unholsters one of her "instruments": - I'm ready. Hmm... I really want to perform something tragic, and I think there will be time for that. But one familiar face asked for something cheerful too. We'll figure it out as we go.
and will our music buff the participants? 🤓
Nope... Since there probably aren't any deaf people there, and I'm not going to recalculate all the stats just to keep the balance of power the same. But there's a catch. -- Oh, you've already found your little knight? -- Amadeo was surprised. -- Don't forget to give him a ribbon, and play for him if he makes it through the qualifiers. Well, and who should I bet on? Because if I don't bet, I'll get bored and wither away. And freeze. -- Bet on your scarlet centaur, -- Gunnlaug sneers. -- I was thinking of putting money on that grim bearded fellow from the feast, if he doesn't disappoint in the qualifiers.
Added after 7 minutes Злобный Ящур
- What "den" are you talking about? The one you organized here with the witch, or some other one? - What exactly were your "duties" with Stef and Tom? Just finding "suitable candidates" and handing them over to the witch? And what did she do with them afterwards? - And that house where we were "lucky" enough to meet today — whose is it? Yours? Stef's? Tom's? - Where did you hunt for "material"? At the tavern? On the street? Somewhere else?
-- We didn't organize anything... -- I know Tomasz. Not by face, of course. -- the burgomaster cuts in. -- He was always a decent man. When he started running the slums, which was a few years ago -- everything was hush-hush with him. And his den is the same tavern, but for the rabble: shitty booze, ugly women, drugs, and dice. -- Hell if I know, but definitely nothing good. I saw one of them later -- body like a vegetable, as if on a harsh withdrawal. And then they found him in a ditch -- I swear, it wasn't me. Tom's place. Mostly at the tavern and on the streets in the slums, yeah.
Added after 5 minutes AstralLein
Tentacles are profitable, fashionable, and trendy.
– Thank you, Mr. Marshal, – Ottar smiled broadly. – I am always ready to work and will use the time before the expedition begins wisely. What assignments do you have for me?
Defeat the monsters from the sewers, give massages to five elderly aristocrats... and other exciting quests.
-- I've got two for you: one more delicate and one more combative. For the first one, come to me later, because I won't send you alone, and I can't spare my own men. The second one -- ride north and help our friend sort out a problem. Sort out -- literally, -- the marshal made a beheading gesture. -- Your part -- patch up his fighters if any of them get cut up or maimed.
E si sui vius, er mi grans benananza, e si ieu muoir, er mi grans deliuriers
-- We didn't organize anything... -- I know Tomasz. Not personally, of course. -- the mayor interjects. -- He was always a decent guy. When he started managing the slums, which was a few years ago, everything was above board. And his den -- it's just a tavern, but for the riffraff: cheap booze, ugly women, drugs, and gambling. -- I don't know, but it definitely wasn't anything good. I saw one of them later -- his body was in a vegetative state, as if he was having a severe withdrawal. And then they found him in a ditch -- I swear, it wasn't me. Tomasz's place. Mostly in the tavern and on the streets in the slums, yeah.
- I don't even know what to say... Maybe she's taking "processed victims" to the academy for experiments? Under the guise of "volunteers"... That's her "business"... And this Tomasz has some kind of "share"... - No, that's just nonsense... Besides, these "vegetables" seem to be walking around the streets... - Or maybe they're walking around after the "experiments"? - I can't think of anything useful... And this guy, it seems, is just a "henchman" for them. He probably doesn't know anything useful...
- It's one of two things: either the witch is the leader and is now "making a run for it," or she's gone "higher up," and then I don't know what they're planning... - Well, I'm going to the alchemist, I guess. Maybe he really has something useful. Anyone want to come along? - the last question is addressed to his "brothers in faith".
Ничто не возникает из ничего и ничто не пропадает бесследно. Если где-то чего-то убудет, то в другом месте добавится. (Закон сохранения).
Cassius has a serious rival in grimness — this participant has revealed to no one not only his name, but also his face or voice. The ladies have begun placing bets — the majority believes he is an ugly fellow with a squeaky voice who can do nothing but train with his spear in solitude, while a much smaller number thinks he is a famous handsome outlaw who has come to the tournament under such a guise. In raw strength, the Nameless One is significantly inferior to the Scarlet Knight, but he is noticeably more agile, and Cassius could swear that the opponent deliberately aims either at the eye slit or at the lower edge of the helmet, closer to the neck...
Choosing this opponent, Cassius expected something of the sort and was not mistaken. Having finished his warm-up, he showed due respect to the knight, though he had already come to dislike him. But his father had always taught him not to show unnecessary emotions, so as not to give potential ill-wishers leverage for manipulation. Riding closer to the Nameless One, he removed his helmet and said: - This is not war. This is a tournament, - Aurelius peered into the eye slits, trying to see anything there.
Небо – мольбы не ждёт Небо – угроз не слышит Небо – ведёт особый счёт Небо – тебя найдёт
-- Hr-phff, -- the faceless one might have replied, but in reality, it was his horse that snorted. The rider merely shrugged and headed for the next warm-up round. All Cassius managed to see were motionless dark brown eyes... No, one eye.
-- He was here a year ago, but only on foot, -- the constable approached Cassius, flourishing a black scarf on his helmet. -- Apparently, he got rich somewhere. He took second place on foot back then, although that year wasn't rich in strongmen... A bad type -- you noticed, right?
E si sui vius, er mi grans benananza, e si ieu muoir, er mi grans deliuriers
- I don't have any ribbons, and I don't even know the different types of knights. Who's the coolest one here, that big guy? Or that one with the bucket on his head? - My finger wandered over the monotonous silhouettes. - I'd like to see him eating snow.
The ribbon from her crazy outfit would be quite suitable.
Sometimes, a hint from the universe is better than any intelligence stat. Dressed in a new outfit, Zuricha performs all the necessary procedures to get the ribbon from the crazy outfit to Gautier.
– Okay! The odds are 2 for the first one, and 1.2 for the second. That means you’ll get 1 silver and 2 coppers in profit.
Hargen nods, not paying much attention to all the calculations. Percentages, coefficients – all this is the science of greedy and slippery people who don’t realize that all their imaginary earnings will vanish in the same hour that their souls inevitably sink into the void.
-- Hr-phff, -- a faceless man might have replied, but in reality, it was his horse that snorted. The rider merely shrugged and headed for the next warm-up round. All Cassius managed to see were motionless dark brown eyes... No, one eye.
-- He was here a year ago, but only on foot, -- a constable approached Cassius, flourishing a black scarf on his helmet. -- Apparently, he got rich somewhere. He took second place that year, although that year wasn't rich in strongmen... A bad guy -- you noticed, right?
Cassius paid attention to which eye it was.
- Apparently, he thinks that a tournament and a war are the same thing.
Небо – мольбы не ждёт Небо – угроз не слышит Небо – ведёт особый счёт Небо – тебя найдёт
Cassius noticed which eye.
- Apparently, he thinks that a tournament and a war are the same thing.
Left.
-- That was the case for a long time, and in Legran, the line is still quite thin. Some people are just rotten – it will be noticeable there as well as here. Okay, our first round is about to begin. Let's wish each other luck and hope to meet in the final.
Cassius's first opponent, an elderly Legranian, greets the baron with a barely perceptible nod before putting on his helmet. A sad sight – a man at the end of his life, in simple armor, with no ribbons on his lance, and neither glory nor victory interests him anymore; only habit forces him to fight again and again, as long as he can still stay in the saddle. Cassius notices that his opponent's horse looks much stronger and more thoroughbred than Darkness – this may influence his choice of target for the attack.
Граф Орлов
They'll probably pay Sandar with gold...
Злобный Ящур
