Smug faces in the crowd reveal those who had bet on the twelfth-circle wizard against his upstart, although entertaining and innovative, apprentice. There are others in the crowd whose faces show quite different emotions. The world of Faerun is not that large, and the world of expert magic-users is even smaller, and most of the crowd is familiar with “Windy” Haelstrom or have had dealings with him in the past, and the gossip about him, his unfortunate wife, and his many students has been fierce in recent years. More than a few of them had bet on the illusionist hoping that the brash youth could actually knock “Windy” down a couple of pegs, and their faces show the despair of having to work with the blowhard after he gets to enjoy this defeat.
Round 3
Lucius Foxhound screams at his former mentor, “You’re only toying with me,” sending snickers through the crowd. Of course he’s playing with the poor former apprentice, they think...that’s the point of a mageduel. You can’t actually hurt someone, but you can humiliate them, and in the world of who has the biggest fireballs, the knives are sharper because the stakes are smaller.
But then the young mage sees something, or someone, in the crowd.
“By Tymora... Mela?” He points to the back of the crowd.
The crowd turns around, to see a beautiful red-headed woman standing up in the back, her arms flapping at her sides as if she had been trying to get the attention of the mages down on the dueling grounds.
Gustav, you think you see Mela, your wife, looking prettier than she ever was, even in your recent tortured dreams.
[Gustav, send me another 1d20 roll]