NorseQuest (A Norse Xianxia)

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You stand eye to eye — well, eye to belly — with your first opponent. The big man is as red-headed as they come, though his hair isn't as vibrant as yours. He eyes you with steady confidence as his gargantuan hand engulfs your own.

You shake and exchange names, "Halla Steinarsdottir."

"Haklangr the Large." He smiles, clearly slightly inebriated. He's a bit wobbly on his feet, but each step he takes is taken with confidence and surety. This is a man looking to have fun, not so much to win. "Let's have a good match, yeah?"

"Yeah," you nod and take your stance. Haklangr does the same and, before the match begins, he grabs a horn and downs it in one, long draw.

With his beard all frothy and foamy, he smiles big and broad as he readies himself.

3.

2.

1.

Go!
(Halla's Closing: 17 (+3 from Reward Dice) vs Haklangr's Closing: 3) Halla Wins
You leap through the air, sending Haklangr's bushy brows flying up his forehead as you land before him.

"Woah!" He shouts, smile widening as he lumbers forward to meet your advance. He wasn't ready for your sudden movement, starting him off poorly.

But now comes what some may deem as the most important part of wrestling; the grabs and holds.
(Halla's Grabbing: 14 vs Haklangr's Grabbing: 16) Haklangr Wins
You latch on to his waist but frown as you realize that he's too fat to wrap your arms all the way around.

Haklangr, on the other hand, only sends his belly rumbling with a hearty chuckle as he grabs you by the back of the belt.

"Nice try, but I'm a bit too big for that!" He laughs as orthstirr flows through his body. Eyes widening, you realize what's about to happen. If he gets his trick off first, then you'll be out of action. But if you get yours off first...
(Halla's Trick-Enhanced Throw: 9 vs Haklangr's Trick-Enhanced Throw: 26) Haklangr Wins
By the time your knee comes up, your legs are already dangling in the air as he flips you by the belt. With a heaving throw, he slams you into the ground and pins your wheezing body with a knee.

"Good match!" He exclaims as he helps you to your feet. Clapping you on the back, he offers a few tips, "Bold, confident, but a little lacking in substance. Good luck with your next match."

Sharing a thumbs up, he trundles off to the rewards table.

After you catch your breath, you step to your next opponent. Upon closer inspection, the tall, lean man has a rather... How do you want to put it? Rat-like face? Well, as long as you don't say it to his face it should be alright.

"Halla Steinarsdottir." You hold out your hand and he reluctantly shakes it. His hands are cold and clammy and just unpleasant to touch. You stifle a shudder as you notice the greasy texture of his hair.

"Knappr Horrasson," he says, eyes full of scorn and judgement. You move to crush his hand but he slips out of your grasp as quick as a snake.

"You're lucky that this is a friendly competition, *Horrasson*, else I'd cut you down like the sniveling little worm you are," you snarl, eyes alight with raging fire. To be honest, you're not entirely certain whether this rage you feel is yours or Blackhand's, but in the end, does it really matter?

"Oh how the children of Steinarr love their empty boasts and toothless threats," Knappr scoffs and spits on the ground, "but we'll see who's laughing when all is said and done."

By the Gods you want to kill him. You can almost hear Sagaseeker's bloodlusted purr from the side-lines.

But you restrain yourself, this isn't the place for violence, not of that sort. For now, you'll have to be content with merely *crushing* him in the ring.

You take your positions and the countdown starts.

3.

2.

1.

Go!
(Halla's Closing: 4 vs Knappr's Closing: 15) Knappr Wins
Your mind reels as he moves like a lightning bolt. He darts across the square and makes it to your in an instant.

You snap back, reflexes carrying you away from the perceived attack and putting you on the back foot.
(Halla's Grabbing: 16 vs Knappr's Trick-Enhanced Grabbing: 38) Knappr Wins
Your form is perfect and you grab him under the arms, but he's as slippery as any snake. Sickly green orthstirr coats his leg as he makes his move

His leg darts around your own and he locks your ankle as he begins to fall backwards into a throw.

Your eyes widen as you know what you must do.
(Halla's Trick-Enhanced Throw: ...*24*, that's a Perfect Success! vs Knappr's Throw: 3) Halla Wins + Perfect Success
Your knee slips free of the leglock.

Time slows down to an utter crawl — a true Standstill — as fear flashes in Knappr's eyes. His eyes roll down as your leg tucks in and rotates up. They dilate to pinpricks as orthstirr coats your knee in crimson power. Sweat beads on his brow as you use his arms as leverage.

Your knee swings up and hits something soft, squishy, and ever so vulnerable.

You drink deep of his pain, committing every detail of his agony to memory.

The flow of time resumes as he crumples to a heap.

You raise your arms in victory as the onlookers' cheers reach your ears. Blackhand wordlessly screams his pride to the heavens as you soak in the praise and respect of the crowd. Nobody really liked how Knappr fought, so seeing him go down in such a shameful manner really drove them into a frenzy.

As the crowd sings your praises, you feel a tap on your shoulder. Turning, you lay eyes on the ugly and squat face of your third opponent.

"You say your name was Halla Steinarsdottir?" His voice is gruff yet full of vigor, like he'd just drank a draught of good health after screaming his throat raw and bloody. "Daughter of Steinarr Freedfire?"

You eye him carefully as Knappr's shuddering, fetal form is dragged off by some eager onlooker. Most of the times that people react to your father's name end poorly, or with you making new enemies.

'He seems... familiar. Where have I seen him before?' Blackhand's musings aren't helping, so you tune him out.

With hair the color of night and eyes equally as dark, you think you would remember this man had you seen him before, especially with a mug like his. Regardless, it's rude to keep a man waiting.

"That's right, though he goes by Steinarr Hallsson now." You hold out your hand only to be met with a broad smile and a firm handshake. His grip is like a hammer with your hand the readied iron, strong enough to bring a slight wince to your face.

"I can't believe it, after all these years!" He almost dances on the spot, such is the joy in his eyes. "I'm Torsten Twoshield, surely your father told you about me?"

You blink and slowly shake your head before pausing as a memory comes to mind. "No, well, maybe. Are you the same Torsten that..." You frown, trying to remember the story correctly, "that saved dad's life by catching a javelin with your teeth?"

"It was just a small one, and going through my shield and hand slowed it down a lot, but yes, that's me!" He smiles, clearly very happy that you know of him.

'...He caught a javelin with his teeth, after it had punched through his shield and his hand?' Blackhand says what you're thinking. 'That's impressive.'

"Um," you gulp, "are we going to wrestle or...?"

He blinks before waving off your question, "Oh, yeah, I forfeit."

You almost fall over from how casually he does that. So casual is he that it draws a sound of disappointment from the crowd as they begin to disperse.

"Say, where is your father?" Torsten looks around, as if searching for that head of crimson hair.

"Not here, he's back at the farm." You point a hand in the general direction of your home.

"Alright," he nods, "Tell him that I'll be swinging by at some point and that I've got something I wanted to talk to him about — a business proposal." A gleam of financial cunning enters his eye as he says that, leaving you slightly suspicious of his motives.

"I'll... be sure to do that," you slowly say, hesitant in your words.

He offers thanks before turning to leave but pauses mid-step. "Oh, and don't forget to pick up your prizes from the stand."

"I won't, thanks!" You call after him as he wanders off. You watch him go, thoughts racing a mile-a-minute.

What are the odds that you'd not only meet a Horrasson, but also one of Steinarr's old friends at the same wrestling competition?

Well, you've gotta go claim your rewards!

As you walk up to the stand, you feel the calculating eye of the sponsor look you over. Frankly, his gaze has you feeling like a slab of meat to be weighed and bought at auction. You stifle a shudder as you come to a halt before the stand.

"You've got a lot of potential," the sponsor says as he sips from a golden goblet. A web of jagged scars covers his arms as his purple silks fail to cover him entirely. "Perhaps you'll be worth something some day."

You bristle at the backhanded compliment, but accept the rewards anyways.

(Standstill Upgraded!)
(+6 Orthstirr!)
(Feat Gained: Wrestling with Knappr)
(+1 to Nut-Cracker)
(+Fine Work Knife added to Inventory! +4 Successes to House and Wildcraft Rolls!)
(+1 Fine Silver Armband added to Inventory!)
(Knappr Horrasson added to Relations)
(Torsten Twoshield added to Relations)

What's next on your agenda? (Pick 1)
[ ] Go Shopping (Hugr (Silver-Tongue))
-[ ] Write in what you're shopping for
[ ] There's some kind of a commotion in the middle of Asvir, go check it out
[ ] There's somebody telling tales in the Headsman's hall, go listen for a spell

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AN: I imagine Torsten as looking a bit like Socrates.

Also, if you weren't already aware, the number of tricks you can have in a skill is now limited by the skill's rank. A Rank 3 Skill will have space for 3 Tricks of varying levels of refinement. Vague and Rough Tricks are not subject to this limitation, only Refined and up are. This is so that you have an actual reason to progress your skills beyond simple combat dice.

Hefty-Halter-Chop has also been moved to Defend, because it really is more of a defensive trick than anything else.

No moratorium today and a short voting period of two-and-a-half hours.