Seeing that their work is done, Joy lowers her sickle and regards Berk with a faintly mischievous smile.

"Yes, I held back earlier, but it seems you deserve...a hug!" She splashes towards him, arms outstretched. "I'm coming for you next, Riven!"

Berk tries once again to summon his magical hand to stop the mudball coming towards him but is too slow. "SPLAT" goes the mud as it lands on his chest, just in time for Joy to embrace him in a hug, transferring some of the mud to her!

The Hexblood glances down at her mud-splotched armor as she pulls away, simply shrugging and laughing at the sight.

"Hm...Maybe we should do the swimming challenge next? I have a quick way to dry us off once all the muck is washed away." 

The five teams work with a fervor not common to this kind of laborious work. Randa and Riven struggle deeply to find their rhythm, but after a small moment of exacerbation, they let the frustration go and get back to enjoying the work, for they work as a team. The tools are heavily used and this does impact how well all of the teams are doing. The orc mother exercises patience as her son clumsily gathers bundles and is often slipping and falling in the shallow, muddy water. Nevertheless, he works as if a devil were chasing him and despite his frequent slips, mother and son somehow manage to finish their strip just ahead of Randa and Riven, who pull up the rear.

The real race, however, is between Joy and Ylis, Berk and Vazo’yn, and surprisingly, the combative drow siblings. The battle of the three teams is hard to measure for much of it as they match swipe for swipe, bundle for bundle. The initially uncomfortably serious bickering from the siblings has been entirely replaced with fluid teamwork, spiteful expressions replaced with stone-faced dedication.

Near the end of the strip, the race narrows further. Berk and Vazo’yn begin to flag, both due to the intense work but also perhaps because the mage hand strategy had bungled what would have been an initial burst of speed. They finish third.

Joy and Ylis vs the drow siblings. Who will take it? Initially, it seems the drow are going to lose. Their slight frames begin to falter under the heavy work, but Joy and Ylis begin to enjoy victory before it is secured, or simply become distracted with play. As they enjoy some mud slinging, the drow pull ahead. But then in a majestic sweep of the sickle, Joy fells the last of the rice from her strip, which is quickly bundled by Ylis, who then uses their springy leap to deposit it into the hut a breath sooner than the drow.

Zag and Beetle cheer for Joy and Ylis, each running up to the two. Beetle raises Ylis’ hand into the air while Zag simply fires his hands into the air before the far taller Joy. The drow siblings immediately wrestle each other into the mud, each blaming the other for the failure of the team despite the amazingly impressive work they had done. Irvan watches the entire spectacle quietly from the dock some distance away. Beetle presents each of the two with a copper medal engraved with a sheaf of rice, hung on a necklace woven of reeds.

DM: Joy and Ylis have the Medal of the Wetlands in their inventory.

Joy blinks in surprise as Beetle hoists Ylis’ hand up, laughter bubbling out of her in delight as the realization hits—they won. She’d been so focused on the rhythm, on Ylis, on the sheer fun of it all, that the race itself had nearly slipped her mind. Mud-splattered and beaming, she accepts the reed-woven medal with both hands, holding it up like a sacred relic. “We did it!"

Ylis celebrates by throwing mud at everybody!

The return fire knocks her off her feet and she splashes backwards to the sound of her giggling. A mud monster rises up with long horns standing about three feet tall.

"OK then, what's next?"

DM: Since the Fellowship spent a lot of time searching to find all the games of the day, it is remembered by some that the remaining games are as follows:

• The rap battle riddle game
• The maze
• The swimming race
• The arm-wrestling competition

As the Fellowship gathers to celebrate and make plans, the orc mother can be heard saying to the goblin couple, "We will be working these rice paddies for the rest of the day, no need to give us a prize if we win the next round. That should be enough."

The son quietly sobs at his misfortune. 

DM: You do not need to play them all if you do not wish.

Upon hearing the mother, Ylis goes over and hands her her prize. It's all fun and games anyway.

"Take it. if you keep working you've earned it," she smiles and follows her friends to the next game.

As their work progress, Vazo'yn arches his back to stretch out the kinks before he wipes the sweat from his brow.

"This is hard work," he says to Berk as they near the end of their task. They were not first, but that does not seem to worry Vazo'yn. He seems content to have simply finished and knowing they have helped the community prepare for the coming seasons.

"Well done, my friend," he says, and offers a congratulatory hand out to Berk once they finish.

And of course he wears a pleased smile for Joy and Ylis as they are presented their prize.

Riven watches the end of the contest unfold with the same quiet focus he brings to everything, arms folded loosely as Joy’s final sweep fells the last of the rice. Ylis leaps like a spring uncoiling, darting forward with surprising grace, and for a heartbeat it’s uncertain who will win, until the bundle lands and Zag’s booming cheer confirms it.

A faint smile tugs at one corner of Riven’s mouth. He nods once toward the victors, a gesture of approval given weight by his usual reserve.

“Well struck,” he says to Joy, crisp and genuine. “Good finish.”

He looks to Ylis next. “And sharp work, too. You—”

THWACK.

A fat splash of mud hits him square in the face, slinging from Ylis’ hand with impeccable aim.

Riven stands perfectly still, mud streaking down his sharp features, dripping slowly from his jaw.

There is a pause, a long enough pause to make someone wonder if he’s about to let the full weight of his glare fall.

Then a single, deliberate smirk breaks across his face.

Without a word, he crouches low, scooping up a handful of the thick, sticky muck in one gloved hand. With a flick of his wrist, the mud sails toward Ylis, cutting a clean arc through the humid air, aimed precisely for the chest, not to injure, but with just enough force to splat impressively on impact.

“Fair’s fair,” he murmurs, stepping aside from Randa with the faintest glimmer of mischief flashing beneath that otherwise icy gaze.

Joy’s heart swells with pride as she watches Ylis’ sincere generosity, her friend bouncing in the mud like it’s a stage made just for them. And then—Riven, of all people, giving her a compliment? Her breath catches for half a second, eyes sparkling as she grins back at him, cheeks flushed with sun and victory as she gives him a long awaited hug.

Wiping her brow, she turns to the others. “I'm up for whatever you all want to do next! I'll sit out the riddles, though. I’m no good at staying still and thinking too hard,” she admits with a sheepish grin, then adds more brightly, “but I’ll be the loudest cheerleader there is.”

Randa slips sideways in an attempt to avoid the mud flicking...

" Swimming?"

DM: Randa, Riven, Vazo'yn, and Ylis, you notice a discarded garment on the side of the road. As you approach, it appears to be a well-made doublet. No one seems to be around who could be the owner. 

Randa turned the piece of clothing over in her hands looking for a tag or emblem.

History- 3

Randa doesn't notice any tag of emblem that might indicate ownership or maker, but the threads are exceptionally spun. It is of a level of quality that is hard to come by and certainly would be expensive. Most likely more expensive than the residents of Jigow could afford. The Kryn presence here might be able to afford it, at least the higher ranking officers potentially could. This is not of Kryn design though. A Kryn officer would probably need to be forced to wear it, it is so far removed from their culturally accepted fashion. 

" Riven, free clothes....your current ones are probably due a wash.", she made a performative sniffing gesture in Rivens direction.

Riven arches a brow at Randa’s comment “Free clothes usually come with a price,” he murmurs dryly, eyes narrowing, not at her, but at the garment itself.

He  crouches by the discarded garment, brushing his gloved fingers over the fabric with a furrowed brow. He doesn’t speak at first, weighing the texture between thumb and forefinger before letting the doublet fall back into Randa’s hands. His attention shifts to the ground around them, eyes sweeping for patterns in the dirt, disturbed grass, scuffed soil, anything out of place.

“Expensive taste for a roadside discard,” His gaze looks briefly to Randa, before continuing. “Doesn’t fit here. Doesn’t fit you, either.”

He moves a few paces outward, the disturbed reeds might be something. Or nothing.

“Can’t tell if someone left this behind… or was made to.” He continues walking in larger and larger concentric circles, a feeling at the edges of his instincts; something about this didn’t fit.

Survival check: (Nat 20)+4=24

Joy hums to herself as she continues down the road, having not noticed that the others aren't keeping pace with her yet as she is distracted by the sights.

Riven is exceptionally thorough in his search, as usual. This is a heavily used road, however, and any number of literally thousands of tracks could have been the owner of this very fine doublet. It is not uncommon for one to remove clothes while working the rice paddies - the orc mother did after all. They are usually collected after though. Odds are the owner was horsed, as people who can afford such clothes spend as little time as possible walking under their own power. No horse tracks lead off the road into the rice fields or the forest, which is relieving to see as it suggests that no one was harmed and pulled off the road. Any that are near where the doublet was are either leading out of the city or deeper into it. 

Riven does get a whiff of magical properties woven into the fabrics. 

Ylis ponders, maybe it's a templey vestment of some sort. Does the design or cut look familiar?

Religion Check 18