FESTIVAL OF BLOOD AND STEEL

Festival of Blood and Steel A drow walks amongst you. I do not hide it, and I await the glorious battle that will come when I am outnumbered ten to one in a furious melee - a melee in which the fearful of my strength band together in hopes of overcoming an overwhelming foe that they fear.

I have no desire to kill the citizens in this place, but many insist on thrusting themselves against my axe. I've shown my mercy twice now, and have been repaid by it with mobs and bands of bloodthirsty sentries from above.

With my death I will ascend and join my beloved Lord and Patron, but that time has not come yet. In one tenday's time I will be hosting a tournament of bloodsport and grandeur, treasures will be available to the brave and victorious. Cowards shall be cursed by Selvetarm, and spit upon. The Sand Caves past the Canal Gates shall host this glorious tournament, and all are welcome to attend. Perhaps that day my blood will spill upon the sand, and I will be no more, perhaps I will die before this is to happen, regardless, I shall die with my axe in my hands and my enemies skewered before me.

ULYAUTH

//OOC: one week from this post, time TBA!