Submission (#576) Approved

Faustus spectates a joust, helps out a little guy.
(Breakdown: +3 another adult crederian (Summer), +1 baby crederian (Harrow), +2 patron bonus (patreon UN reed))

**

Thus far, Faustus felt deeply justified in his aversion to the Florabell Faire. He’d been pressured into watching a show he had no interest in, forced to be the distraction for a neighbor’s little heist, and there were still days to go. He should have left earlier, but he really had travelled such a long way to not at least give it the old scholar’s try.

It’s just, that of all the Faire’s offerings, the joust was easily the least to his taste—a singular condemnation given his natural disposition against all the Faire’s other offerings. Unfortunately, it also had the best seats. The audience box had a high wooden wall at its back, so as long there was no contest drawing a crowd, it was as near a perfect spot for study as he was going to get. It was blissfully, mercifully empty when he climbed to the high back corner, excepting for a particularly small leloko—a youth? had he seen one before?—hiding under the bench a row or two below him. But the kit was quiet enough that he paid it no mind, choosing instead to crack open the worn journal that housed all his scattered, unsorted research notes.

So engrossed, Faustus failed to notice the audience box filling up until it was far, far too late to politely excuse himself. There were Crederians of all stripes whispering excitedly about the upcoming match, and the kit he’d noticed earlier had apparently scrambled into Faustus’ shadow to escape the shuffle. An announcer crackled and chirped, welcoming a confident watery blue bab—Summer—to the jousting arena. She tossed a tousled shock of pink and blue hair and winked at the crowd.

The kit began to shuffle around his feet and clambered up onto the bench next to him. He peered up at him through an untamed mop of loosely curling dark hair. “Everyone’s too tall. I can’t see anything.”

It wasn’t his problem, Faustus knew, but the young thing did sound awfully disappointed. “It looked like you were trying to hide, earlier. Were you not?”

“No, duh.” The leloko rolled his eyes, scrubbed at his nose with a paw. “I got here early to get a better seat. But nobody even noticed me and I’ve lost it.”

There was something movingly forlorn about him. It would be mean to call him pathetic, but Faustus could find no other word… so long as he kept it to himself, there could be no harm. Besides, maybe doing a good deed or two would endear him to whomever had deigned to curse him. He put his journal back into his bag and offered a paw to the leloko. “My name is Faustus. Although it seems we’ve missed the announcement for her challenger, I can at least assure you a decent view.”

The kit squinted suspiciously at him, his long ears ticked back. “I’m Harrow… alright. How.”

“Get up my shoulders, come on now.” He bent just enough to allow the kit a foothold and stood once he was settled, giving them plenty of clearance over the audience for a good view of Summer swaggering over to the starting marker on the track. Her lance was striped in an eye-catching pink that complemented the quilted armor she wore for the joust. She’d been matched against a cool blue kanti they’d both missed the name of, although their cascading mane of purple hair would make them easy enough to find later should they wish to ask.

The match-up seemed uneven to him. The kanti had the benefit of overall size, but Summer seemed the more muscled of the two. But what did Faustus know of sport? Besides, he wasn’t too interested in the outcome, so much as he was suffering through a good deed for a stranger.

“Do you think it hurts? Getting hit by the lance?” There was a note of something rather ghoulish in Harrow’s voice, Faustus ignored it.

“Why don’t you just see how this one turns out?”

A shot sounded and the two sped at each other, great plumes of dust kicked up in their wake. Summer dodged the kanti’s lance as it shattered against the divider and surged up, catching them hard in the shoulder guard and sending them tumbling. The crowd around them cheered and roared and booed in nearly equal measure. And all this for maybe six seconds of spectacle? Faustus huffed, bending once again to allow Harrow to slide off his shoulders.

“That was fine, I guess,” Harrow said, waiting for the audience box to thin before beginning to slink away himself. Before he disappeared altogether, he turned. “Oh, yeah. Thanks.”

So much for his good dead, Faustus thought. Didn’t that figure.

Reward	Amount
Cinnaswirl Bun	1
✨ Coins	11
💎 Magia Fragments	2