Tournament of the Stars

While walking down the streets of the various Zhent settlements of the Dales, or aimlessly in the farmlands of Myth Drannor. A Poster may just happen to fly awkwardly into your face, flapping as a gust ferociously blows behind it.





((To clarify...

Date is Sunday the 21st of August at GMT +1 20:00

Participants must pay a fee. There is also a insignificant spectator fee. Meet where the Gnome usually is that takes you to the Arena. It'll be replaced with a special friend of ours to port you and take your fee. There is a coin prize for each bracket, and you get your name on a plaque/statue.
HIPS is only usable by jumping into pockets of darkness that will litter the arena. Magic is allowed in battle, but only two buffs before hand. Equipment will be supplied by our Dwarven sponsors.

Brackets are as follows...
Inexperienced - Levels 1 to 8
Experienced 9-16
Heroic 16 - 22
Legendary 22 +

There will be treats that won't give you a painful stomach cramp this time. Questions can be directed to someone else.

EDIT: You can sound off to give us some idea of how many are coming through some sort of RP post. If not, just show up on the day and it'll be fine.))

*a wizard awkwardly grasps at the flyer, glancing over the contents rapidly his expression warps into one of mild curiousity, he mutters softly to himself* "Entertaining to watch if nothing else..but participate?" *he mulls over the idea for several days, the idea always hanging at the back of his thoughts, never quite leaving them.*



/// its a bit awkward time-wise for me, certainly coming to watch, tentatively down to participate.

. .. *Upon seeing the flyers every where around the streets Fraska quickly followed in suit putting her own under each and every one *

*Beings watch from the darkness and mutter and curse violently to themselves. They rip down some of her posters and make special note of her appearance. Ready to exact vengeance should she continue the tirade.*

Rumor might spread by word of mouth to Shadowdale and surrounding regions that the outlaw mercenary captain Seadin Aleros plans to participate in the event to prove once and for all he's the greatest swordsmen of the Dales. A challenge to any participating in the top bracket to become legendary has been issued.

*A wandering elf, seen in green hides and ash grey hair pulled the flyers to his face and looked deeply at it...perhaps he would test his might on a neutral playing field...just might....*


///Heroic bracket.

*Celci picks up a poster she finds being drifted by the wind down the edge of cormanthor*

"A tornament. . . hmm. This might be something fun to watch."

*she puts the poster in her bag and continues on her patrol path*

After a relieving sigh, Adam Pater wipes his arse with a stray flier. Just before tossing the poopy page away, he notices two words that had not been defiled. “Tournament” and “Money”. Adam, hiding in the outhouse, sure no one is watching, wipes off some of the fecal matter with his hand. “Tournament, huh?” Adam takes a quick mental note of the time and place. Assuming his not-too-bright self remembers, his intentions are to enter the contest. . . . Let's hope he washes his hands. . . .



////Adam will be entering the Inexperienced Bracket. Great Idea, Btw.

////// Eh-heh. It seems as though I was a little off in my calculations of Time zones [by 12 hours ] I will probably be late by 30 minutes or so.

Bregdar hefted the sack of gold he won for being the victor of the Experienced Division.

"Wonder if any suspected I be Coalheart?"

Adam arrives at the arena, nearly 5 hours after the festivities have ended. He curses up a hailstorm for the next half hour.





/////// *Facepalms* I am Horrid with this time-zone thing.

Drus lies down sleeping outside of Freehaven in the dust with copius amounts of empty 'whisky' flasks around him. Anyone asking him about his misfire in the arena, will simply be told he doesn't even remember stepping in.