The fight was quick, and decidedly one sided in Grady’s favor, more to the point my favor. I walked away with my money doubled, and went back to work cutting up pigs.

The next day of the tournament came, and the fight was between Rick the big oaf, and a quick waif of a guy named Potter.

Now Rick was decked out in his sponsored armor, and was carrying a big club. David on the other hand was armed with a dagger, and a leather cuirass. Neither one of them was fully armored but Rick the oaf with his makeshift weapon had the reach on Potter. I placed a bet on Rick, even though things could go either way between the two I decided to bet it all again.

As the match was about to begin the gentleman showed back up, and greeted me. “Good afternoon, how has the betting been treating you?”

I looked on as the two competitors were preparing for their fight. “Won the last one. This one I’m not too sure about, but I like the big oaf.”

The gentleman looked on, and asked “How come? I thought you said he was umber than a bag of hammers?”

I nodded “Yeah he’s also slow, but he has reach, and can take a hit. If he can connect with that tree branch of a log he’ll win.”

A gravely woman's voice came from behind us “I do pick the winners don’t I.” It was the bitter want to be baroness Lady Rebecca. I already felt myself getting annoyed. She was looking down at both of us. She wasn’t the brightest star in the sky, definitely not as smart as she thought she was.

I replied with as much respect as I could muster, which was not very much “I’m sure he’ll win this match. But I doubt he’ll be the champion, fight’s starting.” Which it was, and left Rebecca in an impotant rage at my assessment of her sponceree. This amused the gentleman.

Potter was definitely quick, slipping in past Ricks club, and in a swift fluid motion sliced a gash in Ricks arm. Rick countered with a kick, it was clumsy but powerful, and Potter was able to dodge most of it taking it in the hip. Not too harmful but it still knocked the wind out of his sails somewhat. Now speed wise the fight was even which spelled Potters doom with a lucky blow from his massive club. Rick the big dumb oaf won, much to the bitter lady’s gratification though she was still brooding. I now had a nice sack of money.

The gentleman congratulated me on my winnings, and aske “who do you like for the champion?”