Fight Night Results
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Fight Night was said to have been a load of fun, with mulitple teams from Peltarch, Norwick, the Camp, and Jiyyd competing.
The three bardic lasses of Peltarch gave it a valient go, coming up with one point for third place in the bardic contest but first in terms of fighthing with style.
The Protectors of the Gypsies came up with Five points, as the archery contest did them in due to a narrow loss to the Sails. However in the third round they decimated the Union group with thier fell magic.
The Peltarch Army also came up with Five Points, with a good mix of ranged combat, brute strength, and guile. However the crossbowmen Mark was beat out by the Senator, though some say he let his superior win, causing them to miss the finals as well.
First through third proved to be quite tricky however. At the end of the contest the Union, Legion, and Sails were all tied with six. However, Tolin and Grag's time had run short and they had to depart. There were some calls to hold over off on the tourny, but in the end, the two remaining went at it with the Union barely besting the Sails.
Who would've won had all three been there? It is hard ot say. Without armor, or weapons, the three warriors of the Union beat down Grag, the Wizard Tolin, and the Cleric theoan. However in the third round in the most lopsided victory of the tournament, the Legion utterly demolished the second place Sails with barely a scratch.
In the end, the Union team took home the prize.
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- After the fight, Foilir split his winnings and handed them out to the second place team, the Sails
Instead he took home the proud memory of taking second place in an archery contest. Eliminating the Legion and the bards much to his suprise.
His secret? Visualization. Picturing various faces on the target, clearly relaxing, barely looking at the target and laughing, bolt after bolt was no worse than competent archers.
He knew his role, he took the beatings he was supposed to allowing his team to get in the shots that got them the prize.
But no one can take away the thought of the bolt flying through the air, fired sideways, while smiling at the bard Eo. Knowing full well his shot was better before it even hit the target.*
" <d>me should thank Grag fer bein me inspiration"
- Smiling and occasionally stopping to spit blood and laugh he makes his way back to the shop *
" <d>pure fight, nae un could touch us, nae un. like deh old days, afore all this fancy shmancy bullshite folk call tusslin dese days.."</d></d>