Wry Blades Duel at Sea Caves

(Crossing, Zoluren: 125 Shorka 357)

How sharper than a thief’s blade is the tongue of a wry wit let loose on an unsuspecting populace!

Only just this last eve at the Seacaves at Per’iel (home of good food, good ale, and a neat little dance floor you can cut a smooth rug on,) swift jests and jabs flew through the air before a panel of judgement.

Some twenty eight contenders passed semi finalist selection, and I’d like to share a couple of the Best of the Worst here:

Corrick set the unkindly tone for the night with a curt selection that had the judges wincing: "You, sir, have the face of a swamp troll, half the intelligence of a musk hog, and make flies in a midden heap seem like desirable company."

No comment from the swamp troll Anti-Defamation Committee could be found by this reporter.

About midway through the proceedings came an excellent, though highly …well… genteel and velvet couched barb from the acclaimed musician, Kalandas, which I will attempt to include here in part:

Kalandas slowly asks, "Ah, lords, the art of the cut. How shall we give it thee this day?"

Kalandas wryly asks, "Fashionably?"

Kalandas cheerfully says, "Hast thou e er met a tailor sir? Such an easier job he must have had outfitting a scarecrow, let alone a gangle-geek d malapert such as thyself."

Kalandas sweetly says, ""Sweetly?""

Kalandas playfully says, "Hast thou been told that thou hast the breath of honey? "

Kalandas wryly says, " It do explain why thou dost draw so many flies."

Kalandas darkly says, "Nay sir, these are too insipid, for the only true insult is the insult of fire, of passion. Of true hatred."

Kalandas emphatically says, "That thou are a malodorous, dew-sotted toad be a matter of public regard. Un-whiskered troglodyte, unfit for service to anyone of more competence than a quadraplaetic jackal on a half barrel of Liani s rum. The very sight of thee hast been purported to cause blistering boils to erupt on the skin of anyone so unlucky to fall beneath thy visage. "

Kalandas smugly says, "The toxic cloud accomanying a tribe of Wandering Gor Tog who hath been consuming naught but beans for a fortnight seems a gentle perfume compared to thy…"

Kalandas wryly says, "invisible, yet omnipresent."

Kalandas wryly says, ".. The art of the cut… It too, has it’s mertits."

The judges reactions were … wincing. This is not something you want aimed at you. Ever.

But before another sterling attack reigned before the panel, a surprise contender joined in the fray, much to the fear and delight of this reporter.

The moons fell.

The stars went dark.

An ominous rumble sounded in my head.

Guild Leader Kssarh decided to show the young’uns a thing or two before he went back to teaching the uppity ones how to fly through a window.

"Might I take a stab at it?" he asked, his voice sounding like the toll of a young moonmage’s darkest hour…

We waited expectantly. He did not disappoint.

The Guild Leader Kssarh says, "I looked into your future…"

The Guild Leader Kssarh says, "I’ll check back when Tezirah stops laughing."

I checked with Guildmaster Tiv after the fact for a comment. He had nothing to say to me, save, "Well, at least he didn’t bite anyone."

Kithria, Druben, Tourokk, and Mashe all had excellent zingers that pretty well rounded out the rest of the night. All these winners and more came away with the night’s prizes and an invitation to return for the semi-finals.

All hail the serpent’s razor tongue!