Eight Intertwined

103 - Cecily

Once the group managed to snag a discount for their stay at the inn, they made their way back toward the center of town. They stopped on a small balcony-like outcropping of rock that overlooked the heart of the city. Tressa's jaw dropped immediately, and she gripped tightly at the balcony. "It seems like the crowds have doubled out here since we went inside!" she cried out in shock. 

Olberic nodded. "It's been a long time since I've seen such crowds," he agreed. "I can only imagine most of them are here to see what the tournament has to offer."

At the center of the crowd, a single man stood. He pointed at one of the passerby, making her turn to face him. "Ho there, traveler! I trust ye know of our arena?" the man asked, a gleam bright in his eye. 

She nodded. "Course I do. Townsfolk here don't ever shut up about it," she replied. Despite her sarcastic words, she was good-natured in her tone. "It's why I've come. To see it and the grandest tourney of the year."

The barker nodded with a smile. "Right ye are, my friend, right ye are. Ain't no better time to visit!" he declared. "We got warriors from every corner of the world, willin' to risk life and limb for the ultimate honor."

"Do people really put their lives on the line for this tournament thing?" Alfyn asked as he looked to the rest of the group. "I doubt anyone would have a long career as a warrior if they'd be willin' to stake so much on a fight without the need for a battle to the death."

"People like him always play up the dramatics to try and draw people in," Therion replied, his scarf shifting in the wind around him. "The more people he can get in those stands, the more money he's going to get paid. It doesn't matter much to us anyway."

The man continued to speak even as the travelers whispered amongst themselves, his excitement only growing as he got deeper into his story. "Only eight champions remain. The preliminary battles have been fought already. Of them, I say there's four ye'll be wantin' to keep an eye on!" the man went on. "The reigning champion is Archibold! The Crusher, we call 'im, and four times in a row, 'e's claimed the prize. Joshua hails from the icy wastes o' the north! They say 'is heart's as cold as 'is blade. Then there's Wallace Wildsword! The man who reached the final last year only to fall to Archibold... And there's one more you should know!"

"Gustav... The man they call the Black Knight!" one of the townsfolk exclaimed before the barker had the chance to continue. 

"Gustav?" Olberic echoed, his eyes widening. 

"I guess it's a good thing we decided to pass up on visiting the nearby shrine then," Primrose murmured. "This tournament isn't just a chance for us to relax after everything that happened in Quarrycrest. It's going to give us the answers we're looking for with Gustav."

"That's right!" the barker cried out. "A newcomer, 'e is--but 'e's proven 'is worth, bestin' every foe 'e's faced thus far. There's many people sayin' 'e might be the one to finally topple the Crusher. We got a reignin' king, a stranger who'd usurp 'is throne, and six more challengers, each as formidable as the last. Ye don't want to be missin' this tourney, or ye'll regret it till yer dyin' day."

As the barker continued to speak, Olberic made his way down the stairs leading to the heart of the town square. He carefully maneuvered his way through the crowd up to the barker, the rest of the group remaining up on the balcony nearby to get a good look on what was happening without risking getting lost. Once he had arrived close enough for the barker to hear him, Olberic spoke. "Tell me something."

The barker smiled to him grandly. "Ask yer question. I'm 'ere to 'elp."

"Where can I find this Gustav? There is something I must ask him," Olberic replied.