The morning sun broke through the thin slits of the shutters of Dalmar's room, and shined in his eyes causing him to wake early in the morning. As his eyes fluttered momentarily, Dalmar yawned and rubbed his eyes, and then sat up. He surveyed his surroundings with a groggy consciousness that eventually expanded itself to fullness, and slid himself off the bed to his feet. His stomach immediately came awake, and grumbled at its emptiness. After washing his face and hands, he walked out into the empty inn where he had spent the night after talking with Jumna for some breakfast. Dalmar judged the day through the opening in the front of the room that led to the streets of Undhkiel to be about mid-morning, and realized he had some time before he had to meet Jumna. He mulled over the day's potential and thoughts soon came to the time when he would have to depart this place and find his way back north towards Draftengil and the lands that preceded it. These were but fleeting thoughts, however, and his mind quickly snapped back to the matter at hand.
After a quick morning meal of fruits and broth-ladened soup, Dalmar set out into the busy streets of Undhkiel to fetch supplies for the journey that would take him into the unknown. The town was alive with a fervor of excitement from the annual festivities, and several groups of entertainers of sorts could be seen on every clear patch of roadway and corner. Jugglers, magicians, acrobats - peddlers of all sorts of unusual marvels - adorned each area of town. Dalmar occasionally stopped by to watch these people of modest ability as he made his way to the central market of town where a sea of people and merchants peddling their wares could be found. The marketplace of Undhkiel was a large open square shadowed slightly by tall buildings overlooking the masses of people. There seemed to be little order of where the merchants claimed their plots to sell their wares, but it was apparent that these small markets within the larger market were grouped together and highly mobile. Children and animals raced through the crude pathways that wound themselves in and through the equally winding alleyways of carts and tents. As Dalmar walked through the market, the aromas of fresh fruits and vegetables, and various herbal waftings crossed his nose, intermingling with one another with regularity of change and every slight breeze that the winds of Edra had to offer. As he wandered the fresh produce, he picked up a few supplies to help him on his journey, and even surveyed a horse or two for future purchase. The horses that were available in the market, however, were either mere nags or farm horses; they were not the kind of horses fit for rough travel, and they would not be much help should he need to defend himself from bandits. Still, he would eventually need one to carry any wares and give his tired feet a rest.
When the sun finally found its place at the top of the sky, many people started to move out of the market and into another part of town. Dalmar realized that this migration of the towns folk would take him to where he needed to be, and followed the crowds and carts into a wide open, grassy area where several areas had been mapped in ropes and small, temporary tents and wooden structures for the purpose of the annual competition. As he entered the rolling terrain, Dalmar began to see several younger men of strength and agility warming up for the festivities. Some of them threw javelins, others wrestled among themselves, and he even saw a few young men boasting of their strength by lifting large wooden kegs of beer. The jingle of coin changing hands was something that Dalmar also noticed, and the presence of a thriving gambling industry was evident. In fact, it seemed to be encouraged throughout the event. After about thirty minutes, Dalmar found Jumna standing with two other men atop the crest of a large round hill as each surveyed this year's entrants into the competition. Jumna quickly spied Dalmar and smiled as he spoke to the other men briefly before he came over to greet Dalmar. Dalmar waved to Jumna to acknowledge him, and soon the two met at the base of the hill.
"Dalmar! You made it! This will be a great day for both of us!" Jumna said.
"I certainly hope so, Jumna. Which one is Varsa?" Dalmar asked.
"Varsa does not attend the smaller activities, but he will certainly arrive when the feats of strength begin later on. For right now, I've been securing our dealings in those events." Jumna smiled and was obviously in good spirits. His dress had changed from the night before when he was simply a fisherman to one of more color. He had adorned himself with a softer robe of purple and green, and now wore a copper circlet about his head. Around his neck hung a small chain of white flowers with green stems accenting his wide smile, and giving him a pleasant, docile aura. "Come. Let us enjoy the sights for the time being. We can see the new marvels that engineers and merchants have brought to Undhkiel after a year's worth of promise and development" Jumna added. For the next couple of hours, Jumna and Dalmar walked through the area, and enjoyed the things that the townspeople and their merchants had to offer that was apparently new to this area. Everywhere, great men of science and wisdom presented their new ideas and inventions, tumblers performed feats of strength and agility that deceived the eyes, and common men became celebrities for the day. It was a time of happiness and lively attitude for everyone, and even Dalmar began to forget his troubles, simply immersing himself in the gaiety.
When the sun finally reach a point in the sky about three-quarters the way across towards the horizon, a loud set of royal trumpets broke through the area. The faces of the people in the crowd seemed to to turn towards a fancy procession of well dressed men on horseback, and the crowd began to gather around their parade of sorts. Twelve large men headed by one even larger man of a furious red hair and beard led the rest of the men and women to a spot that had been reserved for them in the center of the area. Leaning over Dalmar's right shoulder, Jumna spoke into Dalmar's ear, "That large specimen is Varsa. That is your competition." Jumna stood upright again as Dalmar turned to him, and smiled at Dalmar. Dalmar stood, marveling at this mountain of man that was called Varsa. His wide legs dangled nearly to the ground over the sides of his horse, and Varsa's body seemed to engulf the body of the horse. Varsa looked to be twice the size of any other man in the entire town, and even appeared to have been spawned in part by a giant. Remembering his adventure with Crassius, Dalmar quickly dismissed this notion. "Come, let's move closer to where they will be performing. Now's your time, Dalmar" Jumna added, and directed Dalmar to a wide area among that was set out in front of a row of elevated seating reserved for the aristocracy. Within moments, Dalmar was entered into the competition.
The series of events began with a brief introduction by the aristocracy's event speaker followed by a welcoming by one of the leaders of the community. Dalmar barely paid attention to the dribble spouted by the tall, slender man as he greeted the crowd. Dalmar's mind was focused on Varsa as he tried to determine Varsa's strengths and weaknesses. Nothing seemed to make itself known, and Varsa stood at the foot of the aristocracy awaiting the the beginning of the event with stoic fortitude, his ocherous features blowing in the wind like the vision of a deity. This image shook Dalmar slightly, and he began to wonder if even he would be able to defeat this gargantuan being. Seeing his moment of uncertaintly, Jumna patted Dalmar on his back. "Don't stare too hard, Dalmar. Keep Varsa right where he is; don't let him into your head. I don't give my faith in these things very often, so have faith in me. Understand?" he said.
"Yes, I understand. Thanks. I hope to do you well, Jumna. Well, I hope to do us both well" Dalmar replied.
"Like I said, I have faith that we will be victorious, Dalmar. Now, go. I will await you here." Jumna smiled his characteristic large, white-toothed grin as Dalmar made his way into the area where the competitors were gathered before the crowd. Seventeen men in all stood in the afternoon sun, awaiting the beginning of the first event. As the tall monarch stood and announced the first event, the crowd cheered, and the men were each given a large javelin. Dalmar positioned himself next to Varsa who, in return, always positioned himself last. One after another, each of the men threw their javelin, each landing with a thud into the soft earth several meters away from the group. As Dalmar gripped his mighty stave, he gritted his teeth, ran towards the line, and heaved his javelin into the air. As the rod sailed through the air, the crowd fell silent. Time seemed to slow as the pole left the sight of the spectators. It was then that Dalmar finally saw Varsa react to something. Varsa looked at Dalmar out of the corner of his own and growled at Dalmar. Dalmar looked back up at Varsa, and grinned as a horseman took off after Dalmar's javelin. A hush came over the crowd. Varsa was obviously rattled as he gripped his javelin and threw it into the air, yelling as he let it go. Varsa's javelin, too, sailed through the air and time seemed to stand still. As the horseman reach his spot where Dalmar's javelin stuck into the gorund, Varsa's javelin pierced the surface, one full meter behind Dalmar's javelin. The horseman raced back and announced the findings, and the crowd cheered loudly. Dalmar looked at Varsa once again, as his confidence grew. Varsa was not amused.
The leader clapped for Dalmar and Varsa politely as he announced the second competition. The losing five men from the first competition were removed and now there were twelve. Once again, the men lined up in front of the crowd, each gripping a heavy boulder wound with a rope, again wound with steel wire. One by one, each man gripped the rope's handle and spun it around his body and head, launching the boulder into the air where they threw the javelins. One by one, the stones landed several meters from the spectators with a large thud, rolling slightly as they came to a heavy stop. Dalmar gripped his boulder by the strap and dragged it out into the middle of the lane. He looked over the crowd's faces and looked back ta Varsa who sneered at him. Dalmar smiled, and began his circle as he swung the huge boulder about his body. Round and round the boulder flew about his body, Dalmar raising the boulder higher and higher until it met his shoulders. With one final extra effort, Dalmar sent the boulder flying through the air towards the distant hilltop as he did the javelin. The rock, heading toward the sun, began as a large spot filling much of the sun's countenance, and soon disappearing as a pinhole in the sky as it fell. Once again, the horseman raced to determine its placing. Varsa's face turned from a sneer to confusion at the strength of this small man who had such ability and strength. For the first time, the large red-haired warrior's face was overtaken by an air of uncertainty. Varsa then looked at the crowd and his master, grabbed the boulder's strap, and emitted a great bellow as he swung the boulder about his body. Clearly, Varsa's anger had set him off balance and he began to wobble as he turned, flinging the huge rock into the air at an angle over the heads of the onlooking people. Varsa's boulder, too, disappeared as Dalmar's attempt had. As the horseman raced over to the landing spot of Varsa's boulder, the horseman raced back to announce the winner. Dalmar looked at Varsa once again and smiled. Once again, Varsa was not amused. Varsa snarled at Dalmar. "What's so funny, boy?!" Varsa barked at Dalmar. Dalmar did not respond, but rather continued smiling. It was at this time, Dalmar realized he had already won. Varsa was unbalanced. He couldn't beat Dalmar now, and Dalmar knew this. As the horseman enter the event area, it was announced that Dalmar's boulder had once again bested Varsa's volley. The crowd, again cheered for Dalmar. Dalmar then saw Jumna move to the front of the crowd where he gestured at Dalmar in approval. Dalmar smiled and nodded at Jumna, in accordance.
With the beginning of the third event, ten men were removed. Only Varsa and Dalmar remained. As the monarch addressed the crowd, he announced the third competition: single combat. Varsa and Dalmar, each, entered the final competition in the center of the land, each turning to address the onlookers and the monarch separately. Dalmar then addressed the people a second time and raised his arm into the air in appreciation of the people who attended. The crowd cheered, and this angered Varsa as he rushed Dalmar, raging with the intensity of a wounded, cornered bear. Dalmar spun out of the way as Varsa's monstrous frame ran past him.
Varsa stopped and turned around to meet Dalmar slowly. Dalmar knew that Varsa wasn't as quick as he, but he was unsure about how much experience Varsa had in these things. Dalmar could see that Varsa's body was scarred from head to toe with various encounters, and this was not what Dalmar had foreseen. Dalmar decided to let Varsa make the attack, and he would react to Varsa's attempts. Varsa rushed again, and Dalmar spun again, but as his face met the faces of the crowd, he felt Varsa's huge paw upon his nape as he was flung backwards along the ground, sliding up to the throne of the monarch. Dalmar's body hit the stage with a large crash.
Varsa charged Dalmar as he was down, and Dalmar realized that Varsa had shown an ability to adapt. Dalmar rolled away from the stage and on to his feet to meet Varsa. Varsa, once again, charged Dalmar, stopping in front of him as he swung wildly at Dalmar. Dalmar wriggled out of the way of the flailing fists, standing his ground and waiting for an opening to the barrage. Dalmar waddled backwards as Varsa approached him and tried to grab him. Dalmar, lost his footing as he fell backwards on to the dusty earth. Varsa quickly towered over him, launching a great kick that sent Dalmar reeling. Varsa then brought his huge fist into the air, and for a moment it blocked the light of the sun. This distracted Dalmar, and he was able to see Varsa without the hindrance of the bright light. Dalmar swung his body laterally along his hip, sweeping Varsa's trunk and sending him to the ground with a crash. Dalmar, quickly rolled over onto his knees and landed a mighty punch to Varsa's face as Varsa's cheek cracked and folded under Dalmar's fury. Varsa yelled out in pain as his eye closed and swelled. Gripping Dalmar's shirt, Varsa lifted Dalmar into the air and slammed him on the ground causing Dalmar to lose his breath. Varsa did not let go. As Varsa maneuvered his body around that of Dalmar's, he slammed Dalmar once again onto the ground, inhibiting Dalmar's ability to regain his breath. The crowd cheered and jeered in time with Varsa's heaving of Dalmar's body. Dalmar opened his eyes just in time to see his feet raise into the air beside Varsa, and he gave one swift, mightily frantic kick to his foe's head. Varsa's body rolled over to the ground dropping Dalmar onto the ground. Dalmar laid on the ground gasping as Varsa tried to regain the vision that was upset by the huge blow to his head from Dalmar. Seconds flew by as each raced to gain the advantage of recovery. Varsa began to stir, attempting to raise his large frame from the ground and locate his attacker. As the blur began to clear, Varsa blinked his eyes, blood pouring from his ear. He put his massive hand on the ground, rolled over to support himself to stand up. As his weight began to lift his body, Varsa felt a swift pain in his forearm as Dalmar's foot sliced through the air and his support, and then there was a loud crack as his forearm broke in two, piercing his arm's skin. Varsa cried out as his face hit the ground with a smack. In one last attempt, Varsa tried to grab Dalmar's leg, but the day's hero deftly dodged from his attacker, and Dalmar backed away from the crippled Varsa. "Varsa! Do you submit!?" Dalmar yelled at his opponent. Varsa growled a painful growl, embrrassed and his pride falling apart.
"Never!" cried Varsa as he began to lift himself to his feet, covered in his own blood and holding his fractured limb close to his body. Dalmar looked at the crowd and monarch. The monarch looked at Dalmar, and said nothing. Dalmar noticed the crowd in accordance with the monarch's refusal to end the match. Meanwhile, Varsa, was nearly to his feet as he wobbled to his stance. Dalmar, taking advantage of Varsa's lowered body, dashed to Varsa as he was off-balance, and punched him square in the jaw sending his body backwards and crashing again to the ground. Varsa was out cold as his body laid there on the dusty ground. His arms and legs were spread about his body in a static form of torment and unconsciousness. The crowd and the monarch fell silent, and then erupted in cheer. The monarch stood and waved his hands as the crowd silenced once again. "Dalmar is the winner!" cried the man, accompanied by the familiar roar of the crowd in approval. Dalmar breathed heavily, his side hurting tremendously from the blows Varsa laid upon him. He fell to his knees and rested as several people ran to his tired body to touch him and celebrate his victory over Varsa.
Catching his breath, Dalmar rose and smiled to the people.
Some time later, Dalmar found Jumna, once-again, among the three men on top of the hill. This time, Jumna, waved Dalmar up to the crest with a friendly motion, smiling in typical Jumna fashion. Dalmar trudged to the top of the hill overlooking the evening campfires and entertainers who were still left in the fairgrounds. His footfalls were heavy, and his body ached as if he had been run over by a herd of cattle. Yet, Dalmar smiled at his friend. "Dalmar!" Jumna greeted, "With a little pain comes great happiness, my friend." As Jumna held a small chest in front of him and Dalmar, he opened it to reveal a glittering fortune of gold. Dalmar's breath left him once again as he gasped at the sight. The men nodded and smiled with the other two men in accordance with the small, private scene. "As agreed, half of our winnings is your's. That'll go a long way towards removing the pain in your body, no doubt!" Jumna chuckled as he scooped his bare hand into the chest, rustling the jingling coins in his hand.
"Jumna, my friend, it is time for a drink, and for us to spend some of our gold. Now if you'll hand me my gold, I can tend to each of those things." Dalmar said with fatigue in his eyes.
"Aye, it is at least time for a drink, Dalmar! I shall give these men their share as we all went in together, and we'll be off." Jumna said, causing Dalmar to pause.
"Their share?, Jumna. What do you mean?" Dalmar asked.
"Well, Dalmar, I did not have the money to use to make the bets that we needed to make, so I borrowed, on faith, from these men on the notion that they would receive a part of the winnings" Jumna explained.
"Jumna! You shouldn't have done that! What if we had lost?" Dalmar cried.
"Dalmar, I would have lost my boat and my home. When I said I had faith in you, I meant it, my friend. Don't despair in the methods to happiness. The goal is what is important. All of life is a risk. If we stop taking risks, we stop living. We just end up waiting to die, Dalmar." Jumna's tone turned to one of fatherly intent. Dalmar understood what it was that Jumna was trying to say to him, and he agreed with his philosophy to some degree. But Dalmar couldn't bear to think that Jumna would have sacrificed his living for the one chance at material happiness. Still, Dalmar patted his friend on his back. He decided the current achievement overruled the need for continuation of this discussion.
"Carry on, friend. But next time, let me make my own decisions concerning my part in these things." Dalmar said as he forced a smile to come to his own face. Jumna smiled wryly at Dalmar, and then turned to divvy the gold to the other two men. Dalmar then gathered his earnings from Jumna, and began to walk back to the inn. He felt as if he had little to worry about from thieves tonight as he caught several people pointing to him in the streets, some asking him if he was, indeed, the champion of Undhkiel to which he replied, "No, I'm just Dalmar." He was greatly overjoyed to have reached the inn once again. He began to realize that anonymity was its own reward, and he sunk back into his corner of the inn with his potatoes, his chicken, and his mug of ale. This was more happiness than he had actually achieved all day despite his moment of fame. As he leaned back in his chair after his meal, he decided to partake of the local pipe tobacco and smoked a soothing stream of sweet-smelling smoke. He was proud that he had accomplished what he had accomplished. But he was even more happy that he had time to himself, and that he would be on his way soon back into the wide unknown.
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