Post by Andy D on Jan 10, 2024 23:00:41 GMT
Bragging Rights
“Very nice. Impressive,” the tall, muscular mountain of a goliath said as he passed the hand-sized trophy to his older, human friend to inspect. Archie, the human wizard, took the trophy from Kavel and read the names.
“‘Mendal Vultan - Master Craftsman’ - you had them add ‘master craftsman’ after your name, Mendal,” Archie stated as he turned the trophy around in his hands. “What happened to ‘Clan Crafter’?”
“I wanted it to read ‘Mendal Vultan Master Craftsman and Clan Crafter’ to try and bulk up my name, but it sounds too clunky, so I thought I’d just try out ‘Master Craftsman’ instead,” the dwarf cleric explained. “And yeah, I see you twisting the trophy round, Archie. Yearu has a stupidly long list of titles. All made up I’d assume. If I was making those trophies, I’d have hated to do the engraving with Yearu’s bloody titles! Four times as well!”
Sat around the kitchen table, Mendal turned to his goliath friend. “Ronkk and Yearu are mountain-boys like you. What’s with Yearu’s titles? Are those just fancier nicknames than your ‘Smashy Hands’ moniker?” Archie passed the trophy back to Kavel, so he could have another read of Yearu’s titles.
“I don’t know,” the goliath replied. “Yearu, or Ronkk for that matter, aren’t from Iron Mountain. Their names must work differently wherever they are from.” As Kavel passed the trophy back to its owner, he asked,
“Are they big? How tall are they?”
“Ha!” Mendal laughed. “There must be a prize for being the tallest goliath because Ronkk and Yearu were almost fighting over who’s tallest. Ronkk’s about 7ft probably and Yearu’s in the same region.” To the trained eye a small smirk became visible on Kavel’s mouth, a mouth attached to his 7ft 6” body.
“I see that smirk!” Mendal said, pointing up at Kavel’s face. “You can pretend to be as stoic and permanently unmoved by anything as you bloody like, but I see your pride!”
“What? It merely is what it is,” replied the stoic goliath who had to make the tiniest of adjustments to his face to return it to its habitual expressionlessness. This garnered a chuckle from Mendal and a giggle from Archie.
To Sleigh or be Slayed
“Was it dangerous, Mendal?” Archie enquired. “Sled riding down a mountain sounds like an ill-advised gamble. And all four of you on a sled - I’m not sure if that’s safer or more disastrous.”
“Well Yearu died,” Mendal responded, as his two friends stared at him. “He got resurrected though!” Mendal added hastily upon seeing the alarm in his friends’ eyes. “Army worth of clerics were on standby you see. The organisers had it all taken care of. Had to be a resurrection spell rather than a revivify spell for Yearu though. Took ages to find his corpse. The man seems to have a fondness for hurling himself into things or off of cliffs - I know you like the old ‘Mountain High Elbow Drop’,” Mendal nodded to Kavel, “you might need to show him how to do it without dying.” Kavel nodded a response.
“Ronkk’s less reckless, but thick as two short planks,” Mendal continued. “Not bad sled driver though! Kept us alive. Surprisingly he’s full of bard magic,too! Different to Chartreuse though. That fancy elf’s driving skills were pretty decent too, and his spiky-plant, bard magic was pretty tasty. Really fucked over the other sleigh-riders with that spell. And my Wall of Fire! Ha, ha!”
“I had wondered if you had done anything to contribute to your team’s success,” Archie said, somewhat jokingly.
“I was very bloody important to the team!” Mendal barked out in response. “I did all sorts. I reloaded our fireball weapon for Yearu to shoot, made my own fire as previously mentioned and most importantly I did some dangerous, on-the-fly sleigh repairs with the repair kit we had, as well as crafting up some magical repairs with my divine magic. We would have been toast without those repairs! Bloody other teams kept bombarding our sleigh with bolts, fireballs, heavy cannons and chain balls! My craftsmanship was key to the Dawnland Sleigh-ers victory!”
“Alright, I believe you,” Archie said appeasingly and with a smile on his face. It was clear to Archie that Kavel wasn’t the only friend around the table with pride at something.
Mendal added, “I’m sure if I was allowed to build my own sleigh for that course, I’d craft together an indestructible, safe to ride, powerful weapon-heavy, and easy power steering sled like they’ve never seen before! All that would take up a lot of space in a four person sled. But I’d build it so well, there’d even be space for a cask of ale onboard for the crew to enjoy!”
“Oh now that’s a terrible idea, Mendal!” Archie rebuked.
“What?!” Mendal answered back surprised. “An easy to handle power steering mechanism would improve driving safety immensely. What have you got against that? I’d guess I’d be putting clerics out of business, is that it?”
“No, not the power-steering, you fool. The cask of ale! I don’t think you ought to make inebriation easier for people hurtling down a mountain at great speed!”
“Oh. Oh right.” Mendal responded, now seeing Archie’s point. “Alright, cask of tea then. There you go. Something to keep the crew warm. Bloody chilling up there. Got a potion of cold resistance as part of my winnings. They should hand those out for just planeshifting into the Plane of Ice!”
Dawnland Champion Exemption
Kavel lent over and gently punched Mendal in the shoulder. “Mendal. We are both winter sport champions for the Dawnlands.”
“Oh yes!” Archie said with a proud smile. “I find myself in the company of an ice hockey champion, and now a team sleigh riding champion.”
“Mine’s more impressive though,” Mendal said, butting in, “you can get into a punch up in ice-hockey but it isn’t likely to end in death like it did for Yearu, the entire halflings’ sleigh team, and eight other riders!”
“Heavens! More than half the participants!” Archie said, startled. “Are you planning on entering again next year?”
“No! Fuck that! I’m not entering again. One and done! Some other dawnlander can earn the glory next year. I’m also not going to sign up for that Pit Fiend’s death tournament! D’you see that notice?”
Archie nodded approvingly, “Me neither. A death battle will not help me with my lifespan extension work, that’s for sure.”
“I got to see the cleric team before we signed the sleighing contract, you know, “Mendal chimed. “The dumb adventurers who sign up to that pit-fiend general’s notice, I bet, aren’t going to see a single cleric in hell!”
“Oh!” Mendal remembered, and reached into his bag to pull out the small, hand-sized sleigh with four riders on it that he made as a memento for his win. One tiny sleigh for each team member, made with Mendal’s skill, and Moradin’s divine artisan’s blessing. “I made this! One for each of my teammates too. What would I craft as mementos, if I go to the pit-fiend’s death tournament, and survive? Fucking coffins?”
Kavel and Archie both gave a small snort to Mendal’s joke, as they looked fondly at his latest creation.
“Oh besides, the notice was addressed to ‘Lesser Adventurers of the Dawnlands’,” Mendal remembered, “and I’m a fucking champ now, so I guess I’m disqualified from entering anyway. Ha!”
