Same people.
Different idiots.
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Showing entries about duel. Show everything
Nobody reached the ring on time, which spared me the immediate inconvenience of being thrown flat by Meho. She announced it was time, with the confidence of someone already wearing gloves. I agreed to meet her there and made the sensible provision that any defeat be called tactical until a healer and a pen could inspect it.
Blaedy, delayed herself, took great pleasure in explaining that lying down would only make death’s work easier. Arrowyy was occupied serving a cat, proving once again that even warriors answer to smaller commanders. Summoneyy also drifted in on the same late tide. A fierce company, provided the battle begins after supper.
The proposed duel has already grown legs, teeth, and a public arena. Arrowyy’s chief concern is that somebody might murder the entire party halfway through, which he considers a fine garnish rather than a flaw.
Summoneyy wants everyone loosed together afterward, naturally. Blaedy, who at least remembers that a spectacle needs arranging before it becomes a brawl, proposed casting lots for a proper little tournament. Meho observed that two rounds is not much of a tournament. Blaedy is nevertheless gassing the affair up like a fairground champion.
There is something touching about their faith that danger will arrive on schedule and make them funnier.
