Ylis hops up to the stage to partake in the pie eating contest.

"I haven't eaten anything in days!" 

*it was only the night before

Randa smirked at Riven, sketched a line under her right eye with a finger and pivoted to regard Ylis.

"  Vazo'yn.", she said over her shoulder. " Any ulterior motive behind your invitation? Not that its not nice to see you."

Riven steps lightly over the two orcs grappling in the mud, cloak trailing just out of reach of a splattering fist, utterly oblivious.

His gaze turns towards the orc and then to the he contestants, already seated, sizing each other up with narrowed eyes and loosened belts. He says nothing for a moment, then watches Ylis hop eagerly onto the platform, declaring herself starved as if the festival itself might owe her a debt.

“Why am I not surprised,” he murmurs, almost to himself.

Then, unexpectedly, he turns, not to the group, but to the gathering crowd.

"My coin’s on the bunny lady."

The words cut clean through the crowd, flat and certain. A ripple of chuckles follows, and a few heads turn to catch a glimpse of the speaker.

Riven then turns to Yil's taking her seat among the contestants and says, dry as ever, “I trust in your… bottomless appetite. Try not to embarrass the other contestants." 

"My coin as well," Vazo'yn joins Riven in his backing of Ylis and her impressive stomach. The drow moves to stand beside Riven to spectate the competition. His golden eyes are fixed on their little companion as she takes her place.

Quietly, he adds an aside for Ylis, "May your appetite be as large as your heart."

He then steps back slightly, turning to Randa and then gesturing with his slender, pale hand to Ylis.

"This is why I wished to gather us together. When was the last time the most pressing thing on our minds was a pie eating contest?" he asks with a quiet, understated lightheartedness that had emerged in him in recent years.

OOC: D6 Bardic Inspiration to Ylis

Randa nods slightly in recognition and settles back to watch the contest trying not to think of the messier consequences that may occur.....

Joy brightens as Riven tastes the Trost, her smile turning slightly apologetic as he pales and hands back the remainder. It warms her heart that he tried at least. She attempts to subtly pour the rest out while the others make conversation.

"Go Ylis! Hunger like the sea!" She turns to the others. "Don't worry, I make sure we eat every day! She's just excited." Her enthusiasm fades slightly to a more normal glow. "Thank you for this, Vazo'yn. We needed it."

The orc woman straightens her apron, which had twisted in her fervent rush to prepare the pies. "Well that's mighty fine to see. I heard to always watch out fer the small ones. There's a prize fer the winner, but you gotta pay to play." She says with a hearty chuckle. "5 silver per belly." She looks at the rest of the Fellowship questioning. "Any others want to compete or just your furry little friend?"

A goblin from the crowd regards the Fellowship wagging coin pouches around and steps forward. "I'll take the bet." He says looking to Riven and Vazo'yn. "How confident are you in your friend's gut? I don't know if you were paying attention, but you got a halfling up there on stage with your friend. You sure your friend can match that bottomless pit?"

As the eyes of the crowd look over the contestants, you all notice that one is a shirtless, muscular male drow who is busy flexing his biceps at the crowd, or perhaps flexing them to himself, as he winks at the crowd but kisses his arm in far too loving a manner, then points at random people in the crowd, who laugh at the ridiculousness of the scene. He doesn't seem to mind them though, and just continues to flex. Beside him, a smirking female halfling sits quietly. As a halfling, she is easy to not notice, but now that attention has been called to her, she seems quite determined to eat her way to victory. She wears overalls and a simple shirt with the sleeves torn off, exposing some rather impressive arms that she keeps tucked to the side, happy to let all attention fall on the drow next to her. 

Next to her is the skinny human with a mop of hair and a patchy beard often seen on young men who want to appear mature. He scans the crowd as if looking for someone. Pride keeps him from shaving off what is definitely not yet ready for the world. The uneven beard nearly smothers a friendly smile as he looks to Ylis sitting next to him and simply says, "Good luck."

Others in the crowd who had been reluctant to bet, suddenly seem eager now that attention had been called on the halfling. The drow seems offended by the swell of attention on her and flexes his muscles all the more, threatening to pop the vessels bulging at the surface of his carefully sculpted body as he tries to draw attention back to him. 

Ylis slaps down her coins and says, "Good luck to you too mister! Let's eat!"

Riven doesn’t move from his place near the edge of the stage, arms still folded. His gaze slides from the orc cook to the stage, passing over the glistening, self-worshipping drow with a deadpan blink, then to the halfling, his eyes narrow scrutinizing probably the only real competition Yil's has on the stage.

Then comes the goblin, all swagger and shaking coin.

Riven turns his head slowly, the movement deliberate. He regards the goblin as one might regard a squirrel challenging a hawk. His expression does not shift, but there’s a flicker of something unreadable behind his eyes as he replies.

“She’s fast, focused, and hasn’t eaten since she arrived. I’d be more worried about the pies.” He responds without ever taking his eyes off the goblin.

“You can wager on her failure if you like,” he adds. “But it’s your coin you’ll be mourning.”

A few chuckles rise from the nearby crowd, but the faintest crease of amusement touches the corner of his mouth.

Just once.

Berk thinks about jumping on stage, after all he did introduce himself with a meat-pie jest, but quickly dismisses the point. 

"An interesting bunch, this should be fun" he says.

Vazo'yn looks over the boisterous goblin man and shows no hesitation at meeting his challenge.

 The crowd is whelmed by Vazo'yn's words. They look to Ylis and some snicker, but most nod their heads appreciatively. There are many small folk in the crowd and they naturally feel inclined to support one like them. The goblin is unshaken by the words, but the offer up of a gold for a simple pie-eating contest does give him a moment of pause. He leans back on his heels, surprised by the size of the bet, then he looks at Ylis again and a wide grin grows across his face. 

"The rich Kryn is trying to bully with coin and buy the pot." He says to the crowd, which earns him some agreeable murmurs from the crowd. He then opens his own coin pouch and fishes out 8 silver and 20 coppers to match the bet. "One gold for the halfling to win."

The orc woman walks the stage, looking out about the crowd with some disappointment. "This might be the most intense competition I have had today, but also the least profitable." she grumbles. She then puts on a performance and smiles at the crowd. "Okay. GO!"

She whips around from the crowd to the contestants. In one throw, she tosses out four pies and they all land on the table and scoot perfectly into place before the contestants in a feat of magnificent culinary dexterity. Everyone digs into the pie and scarfs it down with ease. It is a full pie, packed with savory meat and light, fluffy crust. No one has the chance to appreciate it, however, as everyone is more focused on expediency. The skinny human clears the pie first, Ylis second, the halfling third and the drow last. The drow pounds the table, not in anger, but in a macho attempt to psych himself up.

New pies slide right into place before you. Again the pies are cleared away quickly. Ylis in front, the human in second place, the halfling again in third and the drow dead last. 

DM: Ylis, please made a Constitution Check, DC 8. 

"Heyf, iv vere a tive vimmit?" she asked the man nextb to her with cumbs falling from her mouth.

CON check 3

The third pies roll out. The heavily muscled drow appears to no longer be having fun, as meat fragments and pie crust fall from his mouth, the human has a look of determination on his face, and the halfling looks very much at peace as everyone chows down again. 

DM: Ylis, please make another Constitution Check, DC 10. 

Joy watches the competition, cheering Ylis' on with barely restrained excitement. She is glad she didn't decide to join in too though; just the sight of the drow losing steam is enough to quell her appetite.

These are not personal pies. These are full family-sized pies filled with heavily sauced meats. A hearty slice would be satisfying for most. Everyone at the table is on their third whole pie. The drow looks miserable hands resting a moment in the pie and posture stooped. The smell of the delicious pies seem to be assaulting his senses now, as he looks from side to side. The Fellowship notes that his eyes are glassy and the blood has drained from his face. His mouth is slightly open as he breathes through his mouth. 

The human is fairing a bit better, but also seems smart enough to know his limits. Part way through the third pie he stops to take a deep breath, then shoves the pie away, waving his hands in surrender. He seems disappointed in himself, but also claps for the others still competing. 

Eyes fall to the female halfling, who is using the last bit of piecrust as a shovel to scoop leftover pie meat from the pan and into her mouth. 

OOC: Stand by Me

Ylis looks at the next pie and smiles, gravy all over her face, she digs in...

CON check 17

Vazo'yn stands quietly among Ylis's supporters, his hands held loosely behind his back. As calm and prepared as the halfling woman looks, Ylis seems to be matching her, all the while beaming that familiar, joyful grin. Vazo'yn wears a muted smile himself as he nods encouragingly at her.

He can hear the goblin's taunts riling up the crowd beside him. He does not respond. He does not need to. Ylis's heroic efforts against her pie foes speak for themselves. He simply spares a sideways glance to the goblin, accompanied by the barest hint of a smirk.

The orc woman notices the muscular drow and grabs a large metal bucket. The drow seems to think he can muscle through his queasy feeling and jams the pie into his mouth in one massive shove. The orc woman has clearly hosted many meat pie-eating contests and before the drow can ruin the show, she grabs him roughly by the neck and forces his head into the deep bucket, where he can safely vomit, which he promptly does. He barely notices her pick him out of his chair and rush him off stage to the side, where he can no longer be seen but definitely still heard as the two remaining contestants battle on. The human joins the crowd below and raises his arms repeatedly at the crowd to rouse them into more cheering.

Ylis easily clears the third pie, catching up to the halfling. The fourth round of pies are slid before them. 

DM: Ylis, please make another Constitution Check, DC 12.