Fire Wrestling

The Colosseum, midday

Given everything going on in Alexandria, from void portals spewing forth villains of the past to threats of continued war, the wrestling match hosted jointly by the Society of Gentleman Adventurers and the Order of the Cockatrice with the Temple of Angoron wasn't expected to be a huge event... Lots of people were displaced by the battles, fleeing for more distant lands where they're less likely to run into an vampire lord or an voidstruck dragon...

"Gods." Skyler breathes as he glances out over the crowds from the sideline, wearing a cloak despite the heat, "I expected a couple dozen people. There's almost a hundred out there." He eyes his opponent before grinning abruptly. "Hope you don't get stage fright."

... Indeed, the stands aren't full or at max capacity, but the crowd is very respectable given the current situation. Enough people have shown up that even vendors are present, walking through the crowds offering ale, water, and meatpies shaped like a chubby Sith-Makar or a small buckler. Skyler is apparently not famous enough to have pies baked like him, alas. But given the gusto of which a barmaid is tearing open the doughy version of Aelwyn's belly with her mouth? Might not be a bad thing.

Skyler grins at Aelwyn as drums begin to pound. "There's our cue. You go first, and I'll follow after. Make this a good entrance!"

Cesran has found himself a seat in the stands towards the back so that he doesn't block anyone's view with his height. He has his dragon headed staff with him as he waits patiently for the event to get started. He looks around to see if there is anyone that he recognizes in attendance today as it's been quiet a while since the archmage has been in the city.

Seated in the stands as well is the rangy half-orc Harshad. And while yeah, the world may be going to the Hells... it's not doing so -just yet-. So time to have a snack and a good drink, smoke a cigar, and watch some mindless entertainment -- in this case, two guys wrestling while on fire.

Puffing contentedly on the cigar (an expensive import), Harshad hears the drums start and straightens up to see the combatants enter the arena.

Myoides, a modest cleric of Rada, was on hand to lend some minor healing magic. Of course, the only token of his office was his gilded pendant for the rest of him could easily be mistaken as just a sailor who wandered down the wrong road toward this most curious of events.

Jarik is down near the front, in a seat he can prop his feet up on a railing. Really, he'd rather be out in the woods instead of this mess of.. people, but alas, sometimes he needs to be supportive. So here he is, making a showing. Though the meatpies on offer are certainly better fare than he'd get out on his own, and ale was always a welcome addition.

He takes a moment to glance around at all the people come out to see this spectacle, giving a slightly disbelieving shake of his head. His eyes return to the arena though once the drums begin.

For the sky pirate's opponent, he seemed... disappointed. The ruddy sith-makar (only slightly shorter than Skyler!) twists his lips and clicks his tongue at last. "Seats are still empty." The masked makari turns towards the human - and slowly a very menacing grin appears. "Stage fright, Pirate? Whyfor, this is barely a show off the side of a street for few coin."

The makari, Aelwyn, pulls over his excessively large cloak over himself. Did he always wear such a cloak? Why was it covering most of his body? "Do not worry," He rumbles, leaning closer towards the human. "This one is of Crimson Troupe. The stage is the fire that is our right." He slaps the human on his shoulder. "Pirate must only concern oneself with his."

The makari then picks up his glaive and with a dramatic flutter of his cloak - that trails behind him like a red ribbon - he throws his hands into the air, glaive held high. The drums sound. The overly excited gobbos blow up the fireworks. There is fire. Smoke. Drums.

Aelwyn's horns are lit on multitude shades of fire, jutting through his half-snout helmet.

He walks towards the center of the stage, slowly taking in the crowd. Surely they are clapping at him! Surely! "I am Dragoon!" He shouts, walking in a wide fcircle. "Knight-Squire of the Order of the Cockatrice!" He hooks up his glaive onto a pot of fire, spinning it around him. "Red Dragon of Crimson Troupe!"

Finally, Aelwyn comes to a stop at the other end of the ring, pointing his glaive towards where Skyler was. "And I dance with fire." He gauges the crowd. "Tonight, the Pirate shall join the crimson dance - perhaps he wil win!" He gives a very cruel looking grin towards the crowd. "Perhaps he will survive."

GAME: Skyler rolls sleight of hand: (9)+12: 21
GAME: Cesran rolls perception: (10)+25: 35
GAME: Myoides rolls perception: (15)+16: 31
GAME: Harshad rolls perception: (1)+9: 10 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Skyler used a Potion of Resist Energy (Fire).

Myoides is a mark. He is all about narratives, and where one competitor is a very short and 'chubby?' red Sith knight versus a pirate who even as they are being introduced cheats behind his opponent's back. It isn't hard to figure out who is the heel. "Boo! BOOOOOOOOO."

Harshad completely misses what Skyler's doing, being involved in taking a drink from his bottle right at that moment. He lets out a hiccup, putting the cigar back between his teeth as he watches Aelwyn doing his performance. "Oh now, there's a likely fellow." The half-breed grins toothily. "I should've put more money on him. Oh well."

Cesran settles back to watch the show as the dragon head on his staff starts to blow smoke rings towards Harshad. He's about to tell his staff to stop that when Aelwyn comes out and he starts to clap for the dragoon as he makes his entrance. He does spot Skyler drinking a potion and his eye brow raises. Still perhaps it's a prudent precaution given that Skyler does not look like he has any innate fire resistance.

Ral-sara, the dragon headed staff also spots it and the staff starts to boo as well, joining in with some of the others around them. "What a cheater!" The staff exclaims.

Cersan merely shakes his head, "It's not a fight to the death, it's entertainment, still one would think that any prep should have taken place out of sight of the crowd.

Was he even looking? Does he even care? Who can say, Jarik seems far more interested at something floating in his ale. He frowns at it, sticks a finger into his drink to scoop it out and flicks it to the ground. Though it doesn't put him off the drink, as he takes another swig right after.

Into the crowd follows Skyler, still clad in his cloak, too.

Cloaks. The ultimate costume for a good reveal, y'know?

He walks forward, giving the crowd a broad grin and raised hands clasped together above his head. While he lacks the trained ease of the Makari, Skyler has oodles of charisma and charm. Even the boos from Myoides is met with a broad grin and pair of finger-guns in his direction.

"Greetings! I am Skyler Skywalker, Gentleman Adventurer of the Society of Dagger Dames and Gentleman Adventurers!" He calls out, voice pitched to carry, "And I accept the challenge of the Red Dragoon!" He gives Aelwyn a dismissive wave of his hand, and in a bold move throws another vial at his own feet, splattering himself with alchemical fire. It catches fire, burning the cloak away to reveal...

"He's NAKED!"

... not quite. Instead, Skyler is wearing a loincloth much like Aelwyn is known to rock, grinning broadly as he flexes his muscles. Not, let it be said, that there's much of them. He's built lean and almost slender, and he turns to Aelwyn, adding, "Before we meet in fierce combat, brother, I would ask the crowd for a moment of silence."

He pauses, and glances around, "Many have laid down their lives for Alexandria in her history. Among them, a hunter that died spitting defiance into her killer's face, the blood of her prey spilled out." He draws a red headband out of somewhere, don't ask or think too hard about it, and ties it around his hair. "This is for *Carver*."

Myoides respectfully curtails the boos, whatever his markdom, as the pirate speaks. His applause was for the moment, not for a person he knew well but for the understanding that the gesture is for someone passing on. It raises his view of the now-mostly-naked man slightly, as the gesture is completed. His view also goes a little higher to avoid any accidental flashing from the loincloth's lack of modesty.

Myoides has reconnected.

Harshad's eyebrows rise as Skyler sets himself on fire. But... huh. That must've been the trick he heard people yelling about just now. The name means nothing to him, but it clearly means something to these two, and so Harshad yells in approval from his spot. "Hail the fallen!" he shouts. "If you are remembered, you will never truly die!" He takes another pull from his bottle, eager to see the battle commence.

Cesran ahs as the potion of fire resistance makes sense now as Skyler lights his cloak on fire. He chuckles a little bit at the pair of loincloth wearing combatants. "Well it seems like they will be evenly matched."

At Skyler's request for a moment of silence for those that have laid down their lives for the city, Cesran and Ral-sara both bow their heads. Cersan reflects on the many battles he's helped to wage on behalf of Alexandria and those that live in it, trying to keep the city safe from those that would see it destroyed or hurt those innocents and sometimes not so innocent. He takes a deep breath as he waits for the moment to be over and the raises his head back up to watch the fight commence.

While the human pirate is making his entrance, Aelwyn moves to put aside his glaive, giving the human the whole stage to make his dramatic reveal, but by the end, he has returned, also holding onto a red ribbon in his hands.

"So many have lost so much!" The Dragoon calls out, continuing where Skyler left off. "The city suffers even now! The hero that discovered the horror of Heth; the arrow that brought back Elune's light into Felwood; the one that preys onto those that would prey onto the weak, and the owner of Deathless." He stops, and looks around the stage, arms spreading. "Why, then, do nothing but fall onto despair?"

Aelwyn turns towards Skyler. "Because we are still standing. The Huntress, Horse Girl of Yggdrasil Union, LAUGHED at death and SPAT in the face of evil!" He starts striding closer towards Skyler now, flicking his large cape so that it starts to balloon outwards.

"That was what Huntress was! That is what Huntress would do!"

He slams his hands onto Skyler's shoulders.

"AND IT IS TO CARVER I, AELWYN, DEDICATE MY FIGHT!"

The cape catches on fire, flicking upwards like wings - and quickly burns away, revealing that the not-too-short-really ruddy sith-makar was also wearing nothing but his red loincloth. "OUR FIRES SHALL HONOR HER!"

Myoides had to admit, the passion was moving. He added to the second round of applause as Aelwyn joins Skyler in dressing themselves in the headbands. "I guess she really liked headbands,". The priest asides to Cesran who he stands near too.

Skyler's expression is grim as he nods to Aelwyn at his dedication, unusually sober as he also clasps the short Makari on the shoulder. And then the moment of silence before Skyler nods decisively and takes several steps back from Aelwyn.

He then glances towards the referee, nodding his readiness to continue. And turns to Aelwyn to smack talk, "Hope you can reach me from down there!"

Cesran claps as Aelwyn honors Carver as well. Perhaps he'll speak to them afterwards and offer his services if they wish to bring their friend back. He watches as another cape is incinerated and he chuckles at Myoides' comment, "Hopefully it's not the start of a new fashion trend. Although even if it does become one, it will only last until the winter." He shivers at the thought of the harsh winds and deep snow that can sometimes plague the city. Not something that he's missed, having to dedicate a spell to enduring the elements every day.

GAME: Skyler rolls athletics: (12)+12: 24
GAME: Aelwyn rolls athletics: (11)+12: 23

Harshad puffs on his cigar, watching the two square off. At the remark about 'fashion trends', he glances back and up towards the spellslinger. "I dunno. There's that one weirdo who was swimming in the Tornmawr in the dead of winter. Supposedly he was helping fish stuff out of the riverbottom, but I think he was just crazy." He turns his gaze back as the fighters get started.

Aelwyn's teeth widen at Skyler's taunt. "This one has no need to reach when one lies below this one." He starts walking closer, innocuous. His movement was quick; light. Also with unnecessary movement and flair. It was like he just couldn't stop dancing!

"Let us not move with our lips, but with our bodies, Pirate. The crowd surely desires _blood_." The Dragoon just as quickly takes a running step to try and wrap his arm around Skyler's waist, to try and bring him down.

"Heard about that, but thought it was just rumors.". Myoides says. Then the wrestling finally starts and he turns his gaze back to the fight. He trusted the Knight to pull it through. "You two got any bets down?"

Forward Aelwyn surges, grasping Skyler by the waist, but all is not lost! Because Skyler... has older brothers. And of course those older brothers bullied... er... played with him so he is no stranger to sudden but expected betrayals and such.

"Avante!" He calls out, using the momentum of the little Sith-Makar that could to grapple him right back, body slick from sweat and the oils in the alchemical fire. Which burst forth in more flames, even as he attempts to throw Aelwyn off him.

GAME: Aelwyn rolls athletics: (20)+12: 32
GAME: Skyler rolls athletics: (19)+12: 31

Cesran chuckles, "Yes there are some brave souls who go out into the water in the middle of the winter. I think they call themselves the White Dragon Club or something like that. They might not be here in Alexandria yet, but I've seen them or others like them in other cities. I wouldn't do it, even magical spells against such cold have their limits and I don't wish to test them." He says as he watches the wrestling match start. His staff oohs and aahs as the two flaming combatants start to wrestle.

Harshad squints as the two wrestle. "Fightin' while on fire? I mean, I dunno if it'll catch on, but it looks impressive." He blows a smoke ring from his cigar. "At least they don't seem to be hurtin' from it. Potions? Or just magic?"

All that bodily oil and wriggling causes the ruddiest sith-makar to slip around Skyler and he clambers up along the human's back.

"Smile before the fall." The Dragoon announces, spreading his arms out towards the crowd. "The flames shall feast tonight!"

The flames lick up along his body as he shows off - and then he yanks his body, flipping Skyler towards the ground with his legs.

Myoides rises to his feet when the first grappling contest seems to flip back toward the Dragoon's favor. That move probably deserves a name. Whaf would a good name for a Sith bodyslam be? "The Am'shere Dismounter!" Work in progress.

Cesran looks over to Harshad and gives a smirking smile, "Oh I think it's the passion that's in their hearts bursting forth in gouts of flaming friendship."

Ral-sara smirks and snorts a little bit at Cersan, "You are so corny." The staff shakes her head.

Cesran looks back in time to see the sith-makar move behind Skyler and them goes to slam him down, "Maybe the Sith-makar Slam?" He suggests.

"Oiy! Giddoffme!" Skyler raises his arms and flails back to try and catch the dragoon on his back. Unfortunately, he's not terribly successful and he's flung towards the ground. The only thing that saves him are impressive reflexes and he's able to barrel roll midair to catch himself on his feet.

"The only thing the flames are feasting on is your scales!" He bellows as he lunges forward to try and use his (slightly) greater height to put the Dragoon into a neck hold from behind.

GAME: Cesran rolls bluff: (8)+0: 8
GAME: Aelwyn rolls athletics: (5)+12: 17
GAME: Skyler rolls athletics: (1)+12: 13 (EPIC FAIL)

"Hell, I don't know enough 'bout makari to say one way or another. Although," Harshad points with his cigar, "that's about the -shortest- makari I've seen. They usually are a lot bigger." He gives a tusky grin. "But y'know what they say, not the size of the dog in the fight..." A wince as Skyler tries to reverse the grapple. "Oooh, he's gonna get tied up fast if he's not careful..."

Aelwyn catches the ground with his hand and lands on his feet as well, turning towards the crowd. "Veyshan Sandstorm!" He calls out to the crowd - he was not from Am'shere after all. The Dragoon turns towards Skyler and -

Aelwyn catches Skyler by his arm, taking the momentum to lead the pirate into a spinning dance of sorts. "More fire!" He calls out to the gobbos handling the flames. "This one believes Pirate is not even breaking a sweat yet!" And then Skyler is pulled towards the Dragoon and his elbow!

"That is embarassing," Myoides says as he feels called out for misregionalizing the Dragoon. He is happy to have a good name for the move though.

Jarik just shakes his head as he continues to watch, now having run out of Aelwyn shaped meat pie. He flags down one of the hawkers and tosses him a couple copper for another one. They really were good, perhaps if he learned to cook he could make something decent for himself to eat. The call for more fire has the half-oruch wincing. Less out of sympathy and more out of what he might have to deal with later.

Harshad looks at Myoides and shrugs. "Maybe they're smaller in Veyshan? Never been there." The half orc looks at the cigar, now finally burnt down to a butt, and he grumbles, dropping it. Seeing one of the hawkers go by Jarik, he growls, "Oy! Are those meat pies any good?" He digs in his pocket for some coins, while Skyler is getting slung around. "Choler better not have swiped my pocket change..."

Cesran winces a little bit, "Yah it is, I hope that the Pirate can stand up to the heat." He says as he watches Aelwyn start to spin Skyler around. He motions for a meat pie as well before he mage hands over the coinage and mage hands a meat pie back to himself. "I believe that Veyshan Sith-makar are the same size as ones from Am'shere. The Empress has only started to send trade caravans that way so not enough time for any size change. At least naturally."

While he's been relying on natural agility and athleticism to keep up with Aelwyn, aided by the oils and sweat, all good things come to an end. And that includes Skyler's attempts at wrestling while on fire. Maybe it's the fire, maybe it's the fact that Aelwyn is just legitimately better than him.

But the fresh burst of flaming oil thrown at him, followed by the catch as he attempts the neck lock works, and Skyler gets the scaled elbow in his face as he staggers backwards with a split lip. He spits blood to the side, and shakes his head to clear it as he manages to use his greater height to leverage himself free.

"First blood to the short one!" He calls, mockingly.

GAME: Aelwyn rolls athletics: (20)+12: 32
GAME: Skyler rolls athletics: (6)+12: 18

And maybe it's the speculation about his height that has Aelwyn really going. There was a bit of unnatural sheen to him - a lurking something far darker - that manifests whence Skyler announces the first hit. "Do not worry. This is only wrestling."

The Dragoon's lips twist apart into a macabre grin. "This one has not even began dancing yet." With a sudden lurch forward, he grabs the pirate by his front - but his tail also lurks around and wraps around the human's feet, to bring the whole package down towards the fiery sand.

Although his mouth is full of Aelwyn pie, Jarik responds to Harshad with a raised hand with a thumb up. He certainly seems to enjoy them. But his gaze returns to the fight after a moment. "Don't mock the guy.." He mutters under his breath, but he knows Skyler too well to know that that is not going to happen.

Harshad finally fishes out some coppers, and waves down the hawker. "Two of 'em." He drops the coins in the man's hand, taking the meat pies in turn, and points up a little further at Cesran. "And I think that guy wants some as well." That done, he bites into one of the pies, watching Aelwyn tackle Skyler to the sand. "Hoo boy," he mumbles round a mouthful. "That hadda hurt."

Aaand down Skyler goes!

The swashbuckler goes sprawling in the hot sand as Aelwyn surges forward and, for once and for all, establishes that raw ability isn't enough if your opponent has just as much potential *and* the training on what to do for it. "Ow." He says conversationally, even as he attempts to kip-up onto his feet, shaking his head.

Meanwhile, the crowd begins to chant...

"AELWYN!"

"AELWYN!"

"AAAEEELWYYYN!"

Cesran takes a bite of his meat pie and nods his thanks to Harshad for helping to point it out. He winces as Skyler goes down hard on the sands. He lets his mage hand hold his meat pie as he stands up and starts to chant with everyone else, "AELWYN!" Even his staff gets into it as she starts to chant as well, adding her voice to the crowds, "AELWYN!"

Cheering isn't Harshad's style usually, but he enthusiastically waves a hand (with meat pie) in it. Also, his mouth is full, so any verbal declarations are going to have to wait. Sure looks like Aelwyn's going to put paid to this guy's challenge, even if Skyler did have style. Harshad chews furiously and stamps his feet in time to the shouts to show support.

Aelwyn may not be a wrestler, nor the tallest sith-makar - there were shorter, it was common! - but he could held down on his own. When the crowd begins chanting, he flashes his teeth. "This one believes the winner is already declared." He rumbles and then after a moment, moves to stand up, holding out his arms to the crowd. He was still naturally on fire.

"This one! CRIMSON DRAGOON!" Aelwyn responds to the crowd, obviously enjoying every single moment of it. Hands going up in the air. Shout, shout, shout! "DRAGOON, UNDEFEATED!"

Aelwyn then turns around to help Skyler back onto his feet. "We should have been better. We shall be better." The Dragoon tells the human - before hoisting his hand in the sky. "The flame may have claimed him, but his spirit shan't die, the one who walks the sky, SKYLER!"

The crowd cheers! The gobbos throw up more explosions. The fight is over.