Thread: A Scout's tale
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Old November 10th, 2017, 04:12 AM
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Each combatant carefully took a weapon and examined it with a warrior’s appraisal. Each stepped back and took practice strokes, dazzling the audience with another flurry of maneuvers that flashed and glinted in the noon day sun, then once again re-appraised their blades. The small entourages that bore the weapons to the combatants quickly withdrew as the referee with his honor guard stepped forward once more, and again called out while pointing to two spots in the tournament area.

The referee approached each fighter in turn, asking questions. The taller one gave some kind of quiet rudimentary response, but the slightly shorter and more winded warrior levelled his blade at the taller. The referee was unmoved by the empassioned gesture and held his ground, but his honor guard quickly levelled their blades at the accusatory fighter as he spouted something in the local dialect. His soliloquoy was long and loud, and finished with some kind of shouting that garbled the words to even the most fluent speaker of the local language, though Aston could imagine what was being said. He didn’t know the entire context of the fight, but there was enough blood and venom to give the gist that one of the two had been slighted, probably the more tired of the two, though Aston couldn’t be sure.

The official quietly ordered the accuser to back off. Then a loud half shouted single command with a pointing finger. The tired vocal Aslan obeyed. The official then turned to the tall quiet warrior, and asked the same thing. The response was quiet and seemed to underscore a larger point. Again, what it was Aston could only guess.

The official stepped back to the middle, then called his honor guard, who still had their weapons levelled, back to his side. The official then stepped forward and looked at the crowd with a cool gaze. Again, Aston was tempted to tap into his computer to get a translation, but felt the raw experience was worth forgoing the technological aid. Even if he had a translation he was sure that he wouldn’t have been able to get the full story. Besides, one grudge match was like another. One person felt wounded, another denied it, meaning one of them was lying, and the only way to settle honor was death or severe injury.

The official delivered a brief speech to the crowd, then stopped. Tails flicked, the hushed murmur quieted down during the soliloquy, after which only the flapping of the flags ringing the stadium and wind could be heard. The official shouted a question to the crowd, but no one replied. Aston looked left and right to see the crowd reaction, but all eyes were fixed on the official. No one spoke. No one.
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Last edited by Blue Ghost; November 10th, 2017 at 12:33 PM..
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