Clouds half-covered the midmorning sky. The breezes blew crisp, still carrying the scent of a late night rain.
On the west field of Rakaens, four raised platforms were set up. One hundred and twenty-five contestants gathered around each tent, for a total of two hundred and fifty participants in the tournament.
The air rang with the sound of metal against metal, and the roars of a gathered audience.
Outside the blacksmith Avaldan's tent, Krow focused through a stretching routine. He wasn't alone. A number of the participants were loosening up as well.
Too bad there wasn't a chance to practice the sword movements a couple of times.
He'd stand out too much.
From the quality of most of the participants, not many had the 'formal' training that warmasters had.
Dabalt hadn't been called to the platforms yet, so Krow didn't know the skill of the other. The way he stood indicated a familiarity with the weight of a sword.
