Completed Das Broofest of Astenvale

[Josai]

​

Brew-craft was a time honored tradition to the people of the Valen Wilds. A point of pride. And how could it not be? So close to the ancient holds that dotted the Spine.

Some say that it was the dwarves that first shared the gift of strong stouts with the tribes of the Valen. Others claim it was the proud tusked folk of the ork clans who imparted the wisdom of the most pale of ales. Even the goblins and the kobolds of the mountains lay claim to the fabled origins of amber brews, and honeyed meads.

The Knights of Anatheaum made no such claims. It was just a little something they picked up along the way. A practice, some old Master of Life was said to say, to help the potion crafters stay potent in their works. And a chance to exchange culture and knowledge with all those peoples who resided about them.

At some point, the Knights, with their magicks of Wyld and Loch, had become so potent at their process that they had barrels and barrels of the stuff stashed away, neath the stonework of their Knoll, and in the woods of the Wild. One thing led to another, and before anyone knew how or why, brewmasters from across the Valen were arguing over who had the best stuff.

Well, there really was only one way to settle that.

Thus, the BREWER RIVALS OFFICIAL OCCASION was born. Broofest, for marketing purposes.

Upon a wooden stage, at the center of the village square, stood a leggy young woman, lithe and strong shouldered, her visage made mysterious by the shade cast by the wide brimmed steepled hat she wore. She stepped to the center of the stage, blue robes draped elegantly down her figure set to gentle flutter. Behind her were a series of large oaken barrels, stacked and in a row, with clean wooden spigots ready to pour. A large oaken table rest before the barrels. Upon the table were ornate stone steins with all manner of finely carved beasts prancing about. The steins, that stood proudly there in wait, would be gifts to any soul brave enough to drink the challenge those vessels promised.

“Come one, come all!” Syr Josai, called out with a star bright smile sparkling just beneath the shade of her wide brimmed hat, a bit of illusory magic did wonders to rouse a crowd. “The air is crisp, and the fire’s are roarin, it's high time to get these brews a pourin!” Her voice was magically loud as she spoke to all the fine folk who had traveled in to Astenvale, and made merry to the light of bonfires and gourd-lantern-wisps glowing all around. “Ye willing contestants, step up on up, don’t be shy, and see if you have what it takes to be this year's Champion of CHUG!”

There was a joyful clamor of bodies as the crowd gathered to watch food and drink a plenty, meat pies for sale and honeyed and garlicked roasts, sizzling and dripping fats over the flames that charred them, made with freshly hunted venison and boar. Some of the squires had even baked some sweets. Roki for one, who had a knack for it really. But then, the young half-orc had a knack for much and more.

“Oh ho, looks like we have a few brave souls, stepping up now!” Josai added with a winning smile.

The crowd cheered in excitement.

 

[Selene]

With her neatly preened robes and her deathly chilled aura, one might think that Selene was not having a good time. But if that were the case, she would not have attended this Broofest, nor every prior one for the past fifteen years. In her earlier days at the monastery she had donated her own tinctures to the contest, brewing up sickeningly sweet concoctions that were deceptive in their strength. Since becoming Captain, that little hobby had fallen away, but she still found the time to come down and enjoy the festivities.

The folk of Astenvale were in their finest garb this evening, which involved a lot of antlers and feathers, bright dyed wools, red branches and hand-carved masks. Selene herself had a wrap of sleek black fur draped over her shoulders, and a thin wooden mask that only covered her eyes, painted with a silver scale pattern that flared off to the sides.

She stepped forward onto the stage, producing her own stein, a time-tested thing. It had a fish motif on it, strange river creatures swimming underneath stylized waves. Sitting down at the far end of the table, she waved two fingers at Josai in recognition, and then nodded at the crowd. Some cheered back in recognition, while most seemed confused by her silent entry.

Seemingly unaffected by the ruckus around her, Selene pulled one of her robe sleeves tight and started polishing the inside of her mug in an unhurried way, readying herself for the brew to come.

 

[Roland Grayson]

Beer! Beer! Beer! Beer! Beer! It is liquid bread and good for you!

An entire festival dedicated to the craft of brewing. It was something Roland didn't know he needed until he had heard about it while helping with the local harvest. They mentioned he should attend and thus here he was!

And it was fantastic!

People in colorful clothing and wearing wood masks. Beer and food everywhere. Every ounce of gold spent to host this event was worth it.

Roland was thankful that he had been told about the dress code. It gave him time to prepare his attire for the event. Dressed in a base of gray with all the colors of the harvest season and a personally made wooden mask, he fit right in with the local crowd. The way he carried himself was the indicator he was not, but he was at least trying to respect their traditions.

That was why he had even made his mask himself. A piece of birch wood cut in a fashion to resemble an animal. He was trying for it to be a cat, but it could be a bear or wolf or otter or any other furry predator truly. Which creature seem was more on what the individual wanted to see than what he had been. Vines acting as trim and lines was well done.

The drinking contest was called and Roland smiled. It was what he had been waiting for. His personal stein that held a half crumbled tower with grapes around its base on it was in one hand and a fluffy cat rested on his other arm. She clearly hated it as her human took her up onto the stage with him.

As he came onto the stage, he faced the crowd and raised his stein up high. "Beer!" It was all he said before taking his seat at the competition table. Princess jumped off his arm and found herself a seat at one end. She glared at the crowd as he long, fluffy tail whipped around in irritation at her human for dragging her here.

Roland was ready to get started.

Selene Josai

 

[HRavielle]

Haelyn was still new to the Knights and she had been voluntold that she would be participating in this little contest by Faramund. She was less than pleased but it was good for team building and getting to know people because she wasn't working alone anymore. She had rolled her eyes at least six times, but, in the end, she relented. She was here, she was not dressed colorfully (except for her usual choice of forest green), and she was ready to drink.

She was sitting on a stool, watching everyone enter. She was trying to gauge who was here to drink and who was just here to heckle spectate. She saw a few of her fellow Knights but no Faramund yet. She would murder him if he tricked her into coming while he stayed home on his ass.

 

[Marchosias]

Oh look at them all, so pretty!

Marchosias lightly paces upon the domed roof of a small round grainary, necklace tinkling like chimes in the cool breeze and preserved leaf garlands streaming from their horns, as they look down upon the crowd with glee.

Such celebrations always sent the creature into some small stress, the prospect of strangers daunting, and yet the energy of those gathered uplifting. The small ones, often bipedal and often warm-blooded, but not always, came in their most colourful draperies and fantastical decorations, and Marchosias loved to watch them as they flitted about, swirling like fallen leaves upon the air. It seemed to Marchosias a celebration of the Vale as much as it was a celebration of beverages.

Selene approaches with her stein and sits most calmly. Competitive? Marchosias tilts their head. Haelyn upon another stool looks...

Displeased? Why do you participate, Haelyn Squire?

The creature had only ever attended in honour of the Vale, in all their years around the Monastery and Astenvale. They saw no rhyme or reason behind drinking the fermented tinctures to such excess, even in the name of competition. Unless it was to build strength of will and stomach against the minor poison. But that wasn't what Marchosias had been told, the first year, and each year since. Josai said fun. Seemed to be having fun.

A man in a beastial mask, carrying his small cat, approaches with a shout of "Beer!" and takes a seat, leaving his little huntress to roam the table in a foul mood. One left, and they could begin the match.

Is it unfair? Come for the Vale, and never for the Ale? Who is wronged by me? Myself, or them?

Marchosias slinks from the roof, wings held up high for balance, and approaches the stage with the curiosity of one of Princess' more personable kin. They lightly step upon it and approach Josai, causing no more rumble than a thin human.

"There is no cup for my grasp, are there any to borrow to compete? Josai Syr."

---

Josai Selene Roland Grayson Haelyn Ravielle

 

[Faramund]

"If looks could kill, we'd all be dead by now." Stepping up from behind Haelyn, Syr Faramund of the Iron Belly greeted the squire with a smile and a slap on the shoulder. "What? Surprised to see me? Don't be. I wouldn't miss this for the world!" Smiling down at the elven lass, Faramund cast a glance around the village square. As was to be expected, the place was absolutely packed with people. Humans, half-elves, dwarves, even a...

Dragon?

Squinting his eyes, the knight nodded to himself. "Aye, of course there's a bloody dragon," he remarked, somewhat perturbed by the winged beast's appearance. Is it going to take part in the contest? How in the Seven Hells am I going to outdrink that thing? Shaking the thoughts from his head, Faramund turned back to Haelyn. Though the elf was affecting an air of annoyance -as per usual- Faramund was pleased to see she had at least made the effort to come. Seems the Order's finally starting to grow on her. Or perhaps she just likes a tipple.

Offering his arm, Faramund said, "Come on, let's go see what trouble we can stir up."

Whether she took his arm or not, the knight would proceed to make his way to the stage where Josai, resplendent in flowing blue robes and a hat that was becoming something of a permanent fixture, was inciting the crowd as only a practised wordsmith could. “Oh ho, looks like we have a few brave souls, stepping up now!” The dusker announced to a chorus of cheers and raucous laughter.

"Do not fret, Syr Knight," Faramund replied, his voice coming loud and clear. "The cavalry has arrived!" Grinning up at her, the dawnling gave his fellow a playful wink before turning his gaze towards the other competitors. His brows lifted as he noticed Dusk Captain Selene among them. "Why, what a peculiar sight this is. Knight Captain Selene, in the flesh! Do you intend to put us all to shame on this most auspicious of evenings, Syr, or is it just me you're looking to best?"

Laughing heartily, Faramund turned his attention to the strangers in their midst. "Greetings, friends, and well met! I hope you're both enjoying yourselves so far, though, I see the drinks have yet to flow." (Roland Grayson Marchosias ) Smiling at them both, the knight shuffled off to find himself a seat near the Knight Captain. The smell of cooking foodstuffs followed him, and Faramund let out a contented sigh as he sat down.

Another year, another Broofest. Let the games begin!

Josai Selene

 

[Trovik Half-horn]

Trovik had heard of this festival in his many travels as a merc, a celebration about copious amounts of drinking and eating. it almost sounded like it was made for him because that's what he loved to do except fighting of course but he can't fight all the time.

The minotaur was a distance away from the stage, behind a tree becoming good friends with it because of the 1st rule for assured success in a drinking competition is, empty the ol' sea snake before you start, don't want to tap out because your bursting for a piss in the middle of it.

"Oh shit" he spoke to himself as he heard the voice of the woman on stage, shaking himself before quickly straightening out his Pteruges and the linen beneath as he quickly made his way to the stage, he was the tallest thing there except for dragon able to wade through the crowd between him and stage.

He looked over the competition, mostly humans and elves they would not be a problem, the only thing that could probably beat him was the dragon given it was massive and probably could hold a barrel of liquid it's stomach no problem.

 

[Elinyra Derwinthir]

Standing at the edge of the stage taking bites of some roasted meat, Elinyra watched the celebration with a meek smile. She was still dressed in plain brown travelling clothes, clean but patched in several places, but her dark hair was bound up in braids and she'd painted her cheeks and chin with a festive design that matched her mask. A fox had seemed fitting for the liveliness of the day, and its carver had made it a beautiful work of art complete with hints of red stain that made the carved wood look very vulpine.

Every now and again she tossed a sliver of meat down to an old, grey mongrel that was lying at her feet, elicting a lazy tail wag as the snack was snatched up.

This celebration of the Vale and the people within it reminded her strongly of Alban Elfed, the mid-autumn harvest festival back home, except the music and dancing seemed to be less important here than the food and drinking. The light of the bonfires, the cheers and laughter all around, the shapes and colors of costume were a joyful sight. Although it brought on a wave of homesickness for the exile.

Elinyra had come here as a volunteer, as one of the healers for this event, in case someone drank to the point of poisoning themselves. Given the interesting nature of some of the contestants, she wasn't entirely sure what to expect from this group.

 

[Noa]

If there was drinking then there would always be Noa. And Ne, much to the pale tiger’s displeasure. Luckily, this time Noa had all the reason to convince Ne why they would needed to go to a crowded spot that would be littered by drunk people— to support the Knights, of course! Ne was used to the mental gymnastics Noa could perform when it came to finding an excuse to drink.

One would think a blind woman would try to not make it harder for her to get from one point to the next, but Noa believed that the best way to stray from the path was to be drunk. It’s how she always found her side quests.

Her pipe was lit as she slowly shuffled along, grateful that Ne’s size and form often made people part and make way for them to walk. The tiger swished it’s tail in annoyance as Noa took a long drag, blowing out smoke that turned into birds or butterflies or dragons and drift off behind them. Ne stopped suddenly, causing Noa to bump into him. The tiger huffed.

“You didn’t say stop.” Noa pointed out, reaching over to pat the large predator’s rump. The tiger’s whiskers twitched and then it’s gaze fell on Elinyra. Or rather, the food in the Druid’s hand that was being tossed to a dog. Unforgivable. Ne began to make his way to the lady, Noa following suit, and bumped his broad head against the Druid’s thigh, obviously begging for a snack.

“Ignore him,” Noa said with a grin, facing away from Elinyra unknowingly, taking to her pipe once again, “he acts like he’s starving all the time but he doesn’t even need to eat. He just likes the taste of salt and sugar.”

Elinyra

 

[Alyxander Quellchrist]

Alyxander wasn't one to renege on a lost bet. When he and his soldiers had put a bet on who was behind a string of gem robberies in the marketplace, Alyx said he'd take on anything they threw at him if he were wrong. Obviously, that hadn't gone his way. True to his word, Alyx mounted up and took the long trek to the spine, albeit with the help of a portal stone or two, to accept this 'assignment' that was meant to serve as his punishment.

Despite his minor defeat, a trip to The Spine wasn't exactly an unpleasant idea. He'd been stuck in Dornoch for so long that he'd almost forgotten what the crisp mountain air of the east tasted like. So rare it was that any of his duties ever required him to travel out this far, most of those assignments reserved for the highest-ranking officers of Dornoch's predominantly female military.

The punchline of this whole 'punishment' didn't arrive until he heard the booming announcement of the extravagantly dressed woman up on the stage, inviting any and all comers up to drown themselves in drink and see who could last the longest without falling to their ass.

Amidst the cheers, woops, and hollers of the crowd around him, the armor-clad Quellchrist instead let out a mighty groan, bringing his hand to his face. This was The Broofest he'd heard so many people in town talking about, then. Word had traveled fast, even to Dornoch. Made sense that his soldiers would sign him up for this, knowing damned well he didn't drink.

Already though, all sorts and shapes were stepping onto the stage to accept the challenge, fire in their bellies and determination in their eyes.

Well, Alyx was never one to turn down a challenge. That just wasn't his way.

So the thunder of metal boots up onto the stage followed the others, a small smirk on Alyx's face as he offered a small bow to the steeple-hatted woman. "It would be an honor to represent the army of Dornoch in this competition."

From beasts to knights and Dragons alike, the cast of characters at play seemed diverse to say the least. Opening the pack at his side, Quellchrist retrieved an old stein he rarely used and raised it with the rest of them. If he was to be put through trial by ordeal, the least he could do was enjoy it.

 

[Elinyra Derwinthir]

The old dog at Elinyra's feet sprang up with a growl At Ne's presence, but decided to slink away rather than face down something much larger and meaner than herself. Regaining her balance after an unexpected shove, the druid's eyes widened in as much surprise as delight at the appearance of a beast that she'd never seen in life.

"It's no trouble! It was a treat meant for sharing anyway," she said with a smile at Noa. Noting the white eyes of one who is blind, she didn't question Noa facing away from the conversation.

"If it is salt you like, you will probably enjoy this. You're welcome to it!" she said, offering Ne the rest of the morsel. "What a powerful and magnificent tiger you are!"

"Are you here for the drinking competition?" she asked, turning back towards Noa.

Noa

 

[Selene]

As Faramund took a seat next to her, Selene looked to him with dark eyes, darker still through the slits of her mask. "Merely conducting a study," she lied in response to his question, even keel. "Does the man only have a resistance to magic, or other substances too?"

She turned her gaze out to the crowd, who was beginning to gather as the number and variety of contestants grew more interesting. Even a soldier from Dornoch, announcing himself with a bow. Selene wondered at the length of his journey, but did not dwell on it - the Astenvale monastery and the town below was known for its hospitality, after all. "It is good for them to see our faces," she answered the dawnling's question in earnest. "And for us to see theirs - the people we protect."

The smallest of smiles graced her lips, curving wistfully beneath her mask. "How else are we to convince the townsfolk of dear Marchosias' good intentions?"

Faramund Marchosias

 

[Abrielle Huxley]

Abrielle grumpily stood a bit back from the stage, crumbs from the meat pie she was eating bouncing off her cider colored dress, as throngs of people began to gather around her.

She remembered offhandedly remarking that they should have somebody on stage to represent the squires, and before Abrielle knew what was happening, she has been unanimously elected. Of course she had sputtered and protested, complaing that she didn't like the taste of booze, all to no avail.

And now there she was, standing smack in the middle of the crowd. Abrielle did her best to hide behind the taller folks around her, but as more people gathered, she found herself forced closer and closer to the stage. Face to face with the stage steps, and nowhere else to run, Abrielle stomped her way up and plopped herself down onto the farthest seat she could find away from the rest of the competition.

She lifted and studied the stein sitting before her. A gryphon -or a bird maybe?- was carefully carved onto the outer surface along with some other detailing. Setting it down, Abrielle took a moment to look around. Hmm. So it appeared that Syr Josai was running the show.

Abrielle's gaze wandered down the table as she sized up her comepetiton. Captain Selene and Syr Faramund were also there along with a filthy knife ears -wouldn't surprise her in the least if they tried to cheat somehow- nevermind... That was just Haelyn. Some humans she had never seen before... Oh! And one of them had a cat! A delighted smile broke through onto her lips as her eyes continued their journey. A minotaur... Maybe if she was lucky an opportunity to pet the cat would present itself! ...A dragon...

Wait... A minotaur and a dragon?! The frown immediately returned to Abrielle's face. How in the hells was she going to outdrink them? She was a tiny woman and would've counted herself lucky if she could finish even a single drink. She had no chance against such monsters.

Abrielle crossed her arms with a huff and turned to glare out at the crowd, suddenly feeling very much like a small child sitting at the adults table during a feast.

 

[Jezebeth Af Malakath]

In the midst of this chaos and festivity; a figure clad in a fine robe bearing a grand hood marched inside the place. She was of average stature and build, almost average. If it was not for the amber eyes that glowed beneath the layer of shadows that this hood bestowed on those who gazed upon her and the lack of her right arm. Her hand rested against the silks of her robe,dryly fingers pulling the sleeves of her robes awkwardly as she stood away from the main crowd, lingering near a corner to behold the environment of the aforementioned festivities all were open to approach her but to those who believed in a creed/religion or were capable to conjure divine powers may feel an aura of unease around her. She was surprised, to say the least, to witness the presence of a dragon; her head leaned precisely in its direction- It was rare for her to behold the sight of a creature such as It; that was not trying to kill anyone but a note in her mind was made- to converse with that creature as soon as the festivities were finished.


The only thing she did before waiting for the right moment to partake in the conversation was to order a simple bottle of wine, twisting it around her fingers but forevermore uttering naught. She didn't seem quite the talkative figure, at least It was what someone could perceive at the first glance.​

 

[Noa]

Ne’s whiskers twitched delightedly at that fact that firstly, the dog was gone, and secondly, he had managed to get the tasty little snack after all. Despite Ne’s imposing side, the truth was, he was quite a gentle beast. That being said, what beast didn’t jump at the chance to get free food? Their large jaws made short work of the treat, a soft growl of delight coming from it.

“Careful, compliment him too much and he’ll get a bigger head,” Noa had, indeed, turned to face the direction of Elinyra’s voice, that grin of mirth and mischief still present. “If I’d join in I’d win easily, figured it’s best to let everyone else get a chance at victory.” Noa explained, her expression making it hard to tell if she was joking or serious.

In truth, she was probably quite serious. Despite her small stature, Noa was known for working her liver harder than Syr Dorn worked the new squires.

“My name is Noa,” Noa said suddenly, right as Ne began rubbing it’s wide face into Elinyra. “The lil kitty is Ne. I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting.”

Elinyra

 

[Elinyra Derwinthir]

"Pleased to meet you both. I'm just passing through, actually. My name is Elinyra," the druid said as she scratched behind Ne's ears with one leather-gloved hand. "I'm here make sure that the contestants live through their over-drinking today," she added with a soft chuckle.

She looked around at the drinking table, which had grown fairly crowded by eager - and some less-than-eager - participants; among them a minotaur and a large, exotic winged figure that some in the crowd had been calling a 'dragon' since their descent from the rooftops. Marchosias didn't fit the dragon lore she was familiar with, but then again she had no idea what varieties of dragons made their homes in this unfamiliar forest.

"Although I'm not convinced this is necessarily a fair competition to begin with. It seems tipped a bit in the favor of the minotaur and the, for lack of a better word, dragon on stage. Ought be interesting, at least."

She sighed at the thought. Someone was going to try to outdrink them both, which meant she'd better be ready to work. Work now, a nice quiet glass of wine later.

Noa​

 

[Noa]

Noa dipped her head respectfully to Elinyra, for a moment, that impish look leaving her face. The sanshin was strapped to the woman’s back today as well, but in such crowds Noa didn’t dare to pull it off and play a melody. Not yet, at least. Perhaps later tonight when everyone was slowing down once the beer had fully entered their systems.

Ne, of course, required the constant scratching, and granted Elinyra an encouraging chuff to continue.

“Minotaur? Dragon?” Noa asked, quite intrigued. She didn’t bother looking around, instead tapping Ne’s shoulder, prompting the large beast to look at the stage. Seconds passed and Noa nodded her head. “Ah, I understand now.” She said as she patted Ne. “Yes, you are right, it’s an interesting little bunch up there. I think the winner isn’t quite decided though, Gods know that size means little.” The woman’s lips were curving up into a conspiratorial smirk, and if she were talking to anyone else she would have also added that sight means little as well.

“If you ask me, the man with the beard and poorly made mask and a white cat, he’ll need the most looking after. Take care of him for me, yeah?” Noa said, then looked to where her hand rested on Ne, her gaze not quite on the tiger. “I really shouldn’t have misplaced my mask.” The tiger huffed, ears lying flat. “You’re right, let’s find me a sheet of wood. Not like I can see much, anyways.” Her head turned back to Elinyra.

“I should find myself a drink. Enjoy the contest, Elinyra.” Noa said, and with that, her and Ne were off— with Ne rubbing it’s cheek in farewell to Elinyra before leading it’s blind master away.

Elinyra

 

[HRavielle]

Haelyn would never admit it but she felt a wave of relief flow over her when Faramund spoke. For some reason, he had decided that he was going to help her get settled into the group and she acted like she hated it the majority of the time.

"I would have been very upset, Faramund," she said as she stood and took his arm. "I am a little offended that you would insinuate that I enjoy stirring up trouble..." It was a well-known fact that she, indeed, enjoyed just that.

She remained quiet as they walked together over to Selene and continued that quietness as Faramund spoke to her and some of the others. She took a seat next to him and let a small smile curve her lips. Faramund was here now and she could do this being social thing.

---

Faramund

 

[Jezebeth Af Malakath]

Although the figure didn't seem quite talkative, she opted to follow anyone who approached the table, If anyone had quite the earring; they may hear that her footsteps were louder than any normal individual. Albeit, this sound may be muffled amidst the loudness of this event. Eventually, she arrived at the table- she precisely bobbed her head towards Faramund and Haelyn but naught was muttered.

She rested the bottle of wine atop the table, returning to pull the sleeve of her robe with her only presented hand. Her head detached from the duo beside her to study anyone that was around.
Faramund Haelyn Ravielle @anyone else around.

 

[Osuin]

A drinking festival was the exact sort of event Osuin could get behind. He had donned a deep green shawl with bright white tailfeathers sewn into seams along the garment's shoulders on his body. On his head sat a half-masked cap carved of soft wood, with an enormous pair of antlers attached to the sides of it. He’d found it a little less than a year ago and had fastened them to the sides of a wood carved masked helmet soon after. It had been sitting in his quarters, earmarked specifically for the Broofest and hidden beneath a dull grey sheet until the day of the festival.

The helmet itself was roughly hewn by knife and hatchet, bearing angles in the wood where the flat surfaces carved into it met. Holes just large enough uto see through were carved out of the mask’s face, sitting beneath the brim of what resembled a battle helmet above it, albeit carved of wood and not forged of steel. The mask ended at the nose and cheekbones, which was all the better for the festival. Osuin didn’t want anything that would interfere with raising a tankard to his lips. It wouldn’t be very suitable to a drinking festival if there was.

With his getup donned and his stomach ready for the supply of beer Broofest would have, Osuin set off for the festival, his heavy crown kept steady by a firm grasp on the side of one of the large antlers it was sandwiched between.

“I’ve…” Admirable as it was in appearance, the mask was incredibly clumsy and awkward to wear. A facet which he was reminded on the moment he made his attempt to enter the building, as both antlers struck against the doorframe with a loud clack of bone against striking wood. Osuin stumbled for a moment before turning to his side and shuffling in laterally to slip past the egressway. Well, it was a shoddy entrance, but got eyes upon him, at least.

“…I’m here!” He announced, wearing a sheepish smile beneath the tilted mask on his head.

 

[Josai]

One after the other, the competitors approached the stage, the sound of the crowd a raucous shift between roar and happy chatter. Whistles and whoops and chants all sounded as one.

The master of ceremonies nod in turn to each brave hero-to-be, but found herself taken aback by the courtesy of the foreigner, so far from his home. Her smile fell, if only for a brief moment, and she blushed as she bowed her head in response. It was rare to come across such an earnest declaration. When he went off to sit down, Josai's face dawned its proud smile again.

"Well well well!" Josai, with her eyes hidden behind the wide round brim of her leather witch's hat grinned with a wide and sparkling smile. "Looks like a handful of souls have crawled out of the woodwork, ready to take the long drinks to drain down and claim the Cup of the Champion of Chug!" she stepped across the table, nodding to each champion-want-to-be, the crowd riled and cheered.

"I got money on the dragon!" Some voice called out from the crowd.

"Nay, I say it'll be the wee lass, the red haired one!"

"Yer crazy, oviously it will be the silver scaled captain, she's been ere year after year!"

Josai loomed over the table where upon the competitors sat, her smile still dazzling, her eyes still hidden. She struck out one hand, splayed wide and open, billowy sleeve snapped and fluttered with the movement. "Competitors! Ye brave chuggers of mugs! Your first challenge of this contest is...." the rolling beat of anticipatory drums rumbled out, and squires came by to take their cups, and one by one they filed towards the large wooden barrels. "Aegerslant's Old Oak Lager!"

The squires placed the full steins before each contestant at the table, each crowned by a foamy head that fizzed pale gold, as bright wheat colored booze ran down the side of the steins.

"Bottoms up!" Josai said with cheer. "Will Agerslant's brew claim a soul or two?"

---

Spoiler: Roll to beat!

Rolls below 5 Will fail to chug the first stein! Roll your dice, add your bonuses and post your results in your post, or in the primer so we can all laugh at your suffering partake in the thrill!

 

[Jezebeth Af Malakath]

The hooded woman took a deep breath and her hand chucked up the beverage to begin drinking it elegantly and firmly; she didn't seem to be affected in her endeavor, she was taking it completely. Someone of her size, of her average nature- how could she be able to rival a dragon or the other strong figures that joined this competition? Regardless of these thoughts; she did not stop to fight. She was there, standing once again in a firm manner- her glowing eyes scanned those across the table, offering them a deep nod as she collected her head and gently rested the empty content of the beverage back onto the aforementioned table.

"Good luck ev'ryone. Please gentle tavernkeeper giveth me more- I'm ready."
​

She mumbled with decision but some humbleness was shown in her antics while she completely tanked the beverage's force; she wasn't there to show off, she was there to continue the competition and bring respect to her 'foes.'

Josai

 

[Ashling Delaney]

Being a part of the Knights had done her some good. Considering her background was, well, less than favorable to some. It had opened her eyes to a new way of looking at everything, that her magic wasn’t something to hide, that she could trust people. Though, to be honest, that one was a toughy. Most importantly, there were people who truly cared about her well being. So here she was, learning to better herself, to hone in on her magic and what better way then a drinking contest, right!?

Unfortunately, she was easily distracted with all the festivities going on in the Village. This being her first time setting eyes on such an event, or any event for that matter. That then meant she was taking her time, enjoying the sights and the tempting aroma of good food and drink. With the sound of the gathering crowds and the announcement of the first round Ash knew she was late to the party. “Ah shi..”

A streak of maroon cloth, accented by burnt orange blended into the mass of people. But it was the stark white hair that stood out the most as she maneuvered through, heading straight for the stage. Quickened steps headed up and to the table in no time. Ash paid no mind to the others at the table, yet, instead she searched for an empty chair and filled stein hoping she wasn’t too late. Upon finding both, fingers would wrap around the stone cup, lifting it to her lips and chugged. The taste was surprising but good, an almost earthy taste to it, in her opinion. It also went down rather smoothly and lowered the stein back on the table.

The foamy remnants present upon her upper lip before wiping it away with her fingers and finally taking a seat. “Sorry I’m late!” Only then did she scan the table, looking at everyone who all decided that today was a good day to get drunk.. As she was sure some, if not most, would end up that way by the end of it. Seeing the familiar faces of Selene, Haelyn, Faramund and of course Josai. A courtesy nod given to each before she sat back in the chair, awaiting the next knowing good and well she likely wouldn’t last long but hey, it was worth trying.

 

[Faramund]

"My dear, sweet Selene, do you ever take a moment to rest? All this studying can do you little good, I'm certain of it," Faramund replied, all seriousness. Well, partly serious. Letting out a somewhat exaggerated sigh, the dawnling followed his companion's gaze towards the crowd, whereupon their numbers continued to soar. Seems the promoters have been working overtime this year, the dawnling thought, recalling last year's Broofest with ease. He sighed again.

"I s'pose there's nothing for it, then. As a man of honour -and your friend- I feel it's my duty to aid you on your quest." Smiling, he gave his dusk-sister a sly wink, before saying, "Watch and learn!"

Taking hold of the stein offered to him by one of the many squires flittering about, Faramund saw off his first foe in one fell swoop. "Aegerslant's Old Oak Lager!" Josai declared a heartbeat later, her voice drowning out the sound of Fara's empty stein thumping down upon the table top.

"By the Gods!" He exclaimed, wrinkling his nose up as the foul liquid surged down his throat and towards his belly. "This ain't like any lager I've ever tasted, and I've tasted a fair few, let me tell you!" Shaking his head, the big dawnling stifled a burp as his eyes turned to the competition. Shockingly, most had yet to partake of their drinks.

Damn, Faramund thought guiltily, jumped the arrow on that one.

Ashling Delaney Haelyn Ravielle Abrielle Huxley Noa Osuin Marchosias Elinyra Alyxander Quellchrist Trovik Half-horn Jezebeth Af Malakath (SO MANY TAGS!!!)

 

[Roland Grayson]

This festival of merriment and booze was already getting wild. The crowd had grown. New competitors had arrived (one even some kind of nightmare materialized into the waking world that had seen Princess rush over to Roland and find refuge in his lap) and things looked to be getting close to starting.

And then they did. The hostess, a lovely woman with skin the color of a rich dark ale, had begun the opening announcement. As she did, his stein was filled with a wonderful wheat scented ale. A smile crossed his lips. Oh this was a joy he would have been denied thrice over back home.

And bottom's up was announced!

Princess, surely after noticing her human's smile, decided now was the time for her tribute of attention. She pushed against his stein in an attempt to knock it over and remind it of its place. She was who he was suppose to be smiling at affectionately not it.

Roland hurried and was able to scoop up his stein just as it was beginning to tip over. A frown on his face he said in a firm yet soft tone, "Princess. I will pet you in a moment."

Then the knight, already behind in his drink with everyone else, lifted the stein to his lips and tried to chug it down

Princess took this as a sign she should lean against his raised arm as she swaggered up to his face and began to nuzzle her face against his own. Somehow he managed to down his ale with a cat face in his masked face. Plenty of practice at it.

A loud, satisfied gasp of air came from Roland as he slammed his stein firmly enough against the table to make a loud, hollow thud without harming it. Princess stopped rubbing against him at that and sat in front of him with her back turned. Her head was held high with eyes closed as poised and graceful as her namesake. Her long, fluffy tail whipping about against Roland's body as if to lash him to death with softness.

Roland ignored her and just raised his arms high. "ALE!!!"