In the middle of the Goblin Lands, caravans have been reporting back finding a circus surrounding the entrance to a deep sandy ravine.
The Cirque du Gor is run by a strange leering, wizened old Earther who goes by the name of Emerald, and welcomes all species.
Emerald acts as MC for the six acts; the Sword Swallower, the Fire Breather, the Juggler, the Knife thrower, the Trick Shot, and the Strongest Champion.
Each in turn stepped forth into the main tent and performed for the crowd. The Sword Swallower was a whispy thin female K’iorn, the Fire Breather was a thick and strong female K’iou, the Juggler was a male Vorin, the Knife thrower a male Bastard, and the trick shot a male Kumfei.
After each performance Emerald addressed the crowd, “Come one and all, test your mettle! Are you hotter than a boiling kettle? Ready to release upon these sands, the perfection of skill of an artisan? Let loose the blood and violate your senses, for the Cirque Du Gor is experimental. Who is willing to challenge the Maestro in their skill of choice?”
The first performance was between a young Bruskti lad and the whispy swordswallower. She stepped forward, tied her long blond hair into a pony tail with practicied ease. Then she prepared to meet her challenger.
Eric the devious. Self styled adventurer, hero of Jamesville (he was their), and Bruskti Sky Pirate (in training) loved the circus. He had never been to one, but at the orphanage he was rescued from he had heard other kids talk about it and he knew he would love it. Also he was at all the battles for Jamesville and that was its own sort of circus.
As he ate some sweets he may or may not have acquired when the vendor was distracted with an adult customer he walked to the sign up area. For the magic and mystery the circus represented the person signing up others for challenges seemed bored, or was it something more. Eric didn’t spend much time thinking about it, “Sword Swallowing!” he declared before the man could ask. “And don’t worry I have a plan!” He quickly stated, also without the asking. The Earther with a clip board shrugged and pointed him to an area.
Eric did in fact have a plan, he would create a portal of shadow walk in his mouth that would make the swords tip poke out somewhere discreet. He figured he could swallow a sword of any size this way. He also knew while amazingly clever he may not be the only one to think of this trick. He would wait for the right moment, when the Kiorn dervish (and any other challengers) were trying to swallow a sword so large it would seem impossible then he would shadow walk some water from his canteen up their noses. Hopefully they choked and spit out the sword. If they cut themselves, well what did they expect swallowing swords for a living? Eric would go to them and use conversion to heal them so they don’t die, he had enough blood on his hands he didn’t want to kill anyone, certainly not for a show.
Eric gave a wave to the audience and was surprised to see an entire section of chairs on the north side of the tent filled by a single Pit Giant who waved and giggled with gless. Eric shrugged, the Pit Giant didn’t appear to be bothering anyone, and the other audience members ignored it, so he would as well. He gave a final wave off to the giant and the rest of the crowd and lifted up a two handed sword with a slender blade over seven feet long. He twirled it and lifted it using gloves by the flat sides nearest its razor sharp point. Placing it over his open mouth, he made sure the sword blade prevented any light from entering his open maw. He opened a shadow between himself and the top of the tent. The sword slipped into the shadow on his tongue and blade passed harmlessly out a shadow above him.
To the oos and aahs of the audience, he dropped it down to its formidable crossguard. He waited a moment for the image of the sword to really entrench itself in the audience’s mind. Then he pulled it back out, two inches at a time until all of it was gone. He passed the blade hilt first to the whispy K’iorn, and then he bowed to the audience.
Eric said, “Thank you all. Emerald may I have a drink from my canteen. To swallow such sword leave a might case of dry mouth.”
“Drink challenger drink,” said Emerald with the unspoken, for it might be the last you enjoy.
Eric watched with interest at the Sword Swallower’s show of comparing the thickness of the sword to her own tiny throat. Then she flipped it up onto its razor sharp point. She twirled it on the plate glove she wore on her left hand, and raised it up. She placed it above her nose, and in practiced motion began to gently slip it down into her body. She shapeshifted her own form as she did so. Slowly each moment another inch slid down, til it was deep in her stomach. Yet not a single wound bled.
