FOG Writing Contest 10/14/12 WINNER!

Code:

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In the twelfth millennium of the Elf Lords, steeped in starving decline, desperate outriders in search of new lands discovered the Flying Islands. With the help of airborne creatures they had never seen before, those first elves endured wind-torn loss and fierce exertion, determined to climb the islands farther and farther into the sky. In the centuries that followed, a new civilization was built around the flying islands, ferrying its valuable resources down to the surface and even building their own dwellings up among the clouds. This became Ethiria, and 'twas made possible only by virtue of these extraordinary creatures, which they called gammons.

Now Ethiria nears the culmination of its first millennium. The elves no longer rely on the gammons for survival, but the memory of that early race for life remains along with their connection to the creatures. Over time a sport developed, to commemorate and relive those heroic days of old.

The world called it the greatest sport ever conceived.

The elves of Ethiria call it...


GAMMONBACK


~ ~ ~ ~ ~


"Eleventh draught! Runners to the mark!"

Rayll's elvish heart kept pounding in spite of his steadying breaths. The draughts were a brutal race, but the runners nodded to each other in good spirit before focusing on the track ahead. Rayll looked up at his gammon, floating in the air beside him. Sheena looked back with one slitted, shimmering eye. At least one of them was calm.

"Take your stance."

Rayll settled into a crouch, all his weight at the fore of his feet. Sheena moved her muscled tail from side to side, finding the perfect ready position. [i]Just do what you always do[/i], Rayll's inner voice told him. Everything else disappeared--the expectant crowd, the other 23 runners, even the reeling spectacle of the larger islands far below. Only pounding silence remained.

"Go!!"

Ten steps out before he could think, he was jostling madly with the other humans and elves for position. The desperation increased as the edge of the starting island rapidly approached, and many were shoved aside or over the fall just before the jump. Their gammons tumbled after them even as others from below rose up to the rescue. Then Rayll's feet reached the edge of solid ground, and he coiled and sprang, headfirst, toward the next, somewhat lower island.

'Twas a risky move, but Sheena wriggled herself through the air speeding just under Rayll's flight. Rayll landed outstretched on her back, but gammons are not naturally fit for riding, and the extra weight pushed her toward the ground. Rayll was sliding off already. Just as planned. He'd timed it perfectly, and his feet hit the ground running. Now he was ahead of the pack.

Rayll leaped and caught one of the smaller, ladder-islands ahead, swinging his legs up under the clump of earth and twisting so that now his belly was on the top side. Feet under; jump! He caught another. Sheena had caught up to Rayll, one paw nudging in the right direction to give him his bearings. Unfortunately, Rayll was dizzy with exertion when he reached the top; the moment spent gathering to jump was almost one too many. He narrowly missed a launching kick aimed to push him into the sky. The surprise caused him to twist in midair and lose speed, costing him the smooth landing. Catching the ledge he scrambled up, but then the others leaped across to pass him.

Only two stretches left. Rayll caught up among the Hazards, smaller islands spaced much farther apart. Momentum was everything. Rayll was at the head of the pack by the fifth hazard, but just then a strong push sent him flying, nothing below him but sky, and time slowed. Somehow Sheena's arm was there. He grabbed, anticipating his pull on her flight path, but instead of disaster, Rayll found himself swung around like a sling! Extreme precision or pure luck ended the arc of his flight at the farthest hazard. He needed at least 4th place. A leap, and he was on the final island, sprinting toward the leaders, pouring everything into a final dash....

~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Later that day...

"Your majesty, with the last of the 15 paragon draughts completed, we have an exciting group."  Three game meisters stood before the Lord of Ethiria, surrounded by dozens of scribes recording every word for the official commentary. The Draught Ring above looked like a great, floating necklace. "Those last five draughts were exemplary, particularly the wild shows of 11 and 14. With such talent this year, what are your predictions for the Gammonback?"

"The sport has become much more competitive in recent years. Each group pushes itself harder than the last, and the feats we saw today are a perfect example. Whatever happens, we're bound to see amazing things this year."

Another stepped forward. "Your majesty, has the new year changed your opinion on humans participating in the Gammonback?"

"Not at all. Anyone may participate. However, there is a reason why, out of all peoples, only humans have ever tried to join. Ever since they first competed alongside us, humans have largely dominated the physical aspects of the sport. Yet each new year proves brute strength is never enough."

The third game meister asked, "Lastly, your majesty, before teams are chosen, is there anyone we should watch in particular?"

"Obviously the paragons from fifth and eighth, and especially the eleventh and fourteenth. As well, our own Ilaris Elire. But I would add one other. He may have finished third in the eleventh draught, but I think we all remember Rayll Konn. Some of us will cite his uncommon daring, agility or speed. However, his true strength lies closer to the heart of Gammonback. If fortune in teams is not unkind, and if the gammon he finds on the surface is anything like his close companion in the draught, I truly believe we have not seen anything yet."

That concluded the round of questions, and the game meisters distributed the entire conversation among Ethiria at large. Tomorrow, the Gammonback would begin.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The following day...

The shadow side of the great island loomed over 60 gammons bearing 60 elves and humans, 4 from each draught, lying precariously on their backs. A crystal cream on the gammons' underbellies, a byproduct of their diet which only the flying islands could provide, cancelled the gammon's weight and allowed them to float freely when unencumbered. Bluish crystal growths on their tendrils, scales, claws and muscular tails afforded great control, while stamina held. Thus all 60 gammons descended at an equal rate, and the circle of participants could focus on the instructor in the center.

"Gammonback is not like the draughts," he began. "Here there is none to save you when you fall. Plan your movements well and"

Rayll already knew all about Gammonback, from blotting other players to establishing relays, strategies for bearing off the primes... His attention moved to study the vertical course in the distance.

"Whichever team collects the most primes the fastest earns the winning title. Everything depends on how well you work with your assigned team. Remember, you must fulfill the minimum quota of 10 primes per member. How you accomplish that is a matter of myriad strategy. Now, each of you was given a sealed roll. Open these; you will find an inscribed symbol, along with a clue to one of the 60 hidden crystal primes. Match yourself to players with the same symbol."

Rayll carefully reached onto his belt, broke the roll's seal with his fingers, and gripped the unwound edge tightly, drawing it out so he could see.  Then he held it up for the others and searched their rolls for the symbols that matched.

But as Rayll's team came together, they all felt a growing dismay. Not one of them placed even 2nd in the draughts. With sunken hopes they introduced themselves.
"Syri."
"Raina."
"Tilen."
"Rayll."
Syri sighed. "Yes, everyone knows you, Rayll. If only they let you keep your gammon, then we'd have a chance."
Rayll was all too aware of that. He did have a plan, but he had no guarantee it would work.
"What about the other teams?" said Raina.
Tilen spoke up. "You weren't watching?" They all looked toward the other 14 teams. "At least the 5 favorites are spread out. But look." He pointed ominously across the ring. "An all-human team."
"They'll concentrate on controlling one area," said Rayll. "We'll just have to work around them."
"How?" said Raina.
"Diversion. It'll work against the other teams, too... I think. We distract them, send one up to the highest islands, and relay to the ground."
Syri frowned. "Hard to pull off."
"But he's right," said Tilen. "It's our best chance."

The surface appeared noticeably to increase. Trees, hills, low islands, and everywhere pavilions of all sizes, covered the ground like colored pebbles below them.

"So, who's going to the top?" Raina asked.
Syri and Tilen looked at Rayll.
"Give me your clues," he said. "And while everyone is catching gammons, try to lift as many other clues as you can. Run until they leave. We'll take our gammons last; nobody will want to delay their climb for us."
"Why? What then?" said Tilen.

Rayll took a breath. This was the pivotal point, and they would not approve. "We need space for my plan to work. It won't look good for us in the beginning, but that's what we want: nobody will bother to stop us."

"How will we make up the time?" Syri wanted to know.

"I'll make up the time. Just be ready, no matter what."
Rayll didn't feel half as confident as he forced himself to sound, but they had to take a chance.

Slowly, looking amongst themselves, the others handed him their clues and took to watching the opposing team closely, looking for targets, taking note of who to avoid.

Their circle was nearly level with the tallest treetops when the instructor called them all in close. The teams acknowledged one another and once more wished good spirit to each of their opponents.

"The Gammonback starts now," said the instructor. Everyone jolted into coiled readiness. "As soon as we land, capture a wild gammon any"

But Rayll wasn't listening; he was studying the clues.

Some of the humans and more solidly-built elves were not listening either. They were gone. Exclamations from players and from the crowds below followed these who jumped early from their gammons, risking everything for a head-start. A few more who were less brave or less foolish followed soon after, leaving about half the original number to descend safely--at the cost of first pick of the wild gammons. Rayll, Syri, Tilen and Raina alighted close to earth and bid their gammons a hasty farewell. Rayll took the longest.

"Be ready, Sheena."

If gammons could smile...

Rayll rushed off into the woods nearby, well behind everyone else. Trees closed in, and Rayll hurled himself up into an evergreen branch and started to climb. He could hear murmurs confusion from the nearby crowd. Wasting no time at the top, Rayll leaped into open air and fell some hundred feet to the ground. Just before he hit, there was Sheena, and just as in the race, she flung him mightily through the treetops. Rayll squinted against the needles and rushing air.

Gammons sense their kind; Sheena's aim was true. Rayll stretched his arms and tackled an unsuspecting gammon floating among the trees. Rayll held onto it until it stopped trying to wriggle away.

When they touched earth, he worked his way around to look it in the eyes. They were the color of flower petals, the slits opening slowly. 'Twas a she.

Noise passed by as the others took to the islands above, past the crowds and onto vines and floating rocks, new gammons in tow. Rayll was still panting, eyes locked with his creature. "Can you help me? Please?" The gammon's eyes were fully open, taking him in. Her breathing slowed, and so did Rayll's. "Ready? Let's go!" Both of them got up, Rayll ran, and the gammon followed. Usually that was enough for most. Gammons just trained could support their companions the same way they supported their young. However, Rayll needed more than that if his team was going to win.

"Rayll! We got 2 already!" Tilen passed him 2 clues and rushed past. "Hurry! We'll go ahead."

'Twas a long way up. Rayll scaled the vines while the others, with the gammons' assistance, leaped up the rocks. Rayll's gammon helped, too. Once up the first, the team raced onward.

Suddenly, running too close to the edge, Rayll's foot slipped, and before they knew it he had fallen!

"No! Quick, grab him!"
"It's too late!" Syri said quickly, "he'll be fine. Remember his gammon's down there."
"But--"
"Let's use this time to get more clues, make the others chase us instead of gathering primes!"
"Yes! Hurry!" said Tilen.

The crowd held their breath as Rayll fell. 'Twas not unheard of for one or two participants to lose their lives in the Gammonback. Rayll's new gammon tried to rush after him, but gammon flight simply didn't work for diving. Just in time, Sheena was there after all, slowing him with such skill that Rayll slid safely to the ground. Then the new gammon was there, fussing over Rayll as if he were one of her young. Sheena drew her attention and communicated with her, as if to explain things. Whatever Sheena was doing, it worked. The second gammon looked closely at Rayll, and Rayll put his hands on the sides of her slender head. "Can you do that for me, too?" he said. "I'll call you... Shy." He looked up. Shy followed his gaze and returned it to his. "Shy, shall we go up?"

Raina stood near the edge, keeping the other clues they'd stolen, as Syri and Tilen drew chase from the other teams. Raina gasped, then. Rayll was swinging and leaping, ascending the islands faster than she had thought possible. Before she knew it he'd nearly passed, and just in time she held out the clues for him to grasp. "Find them, Rayll!"

While other teams gathered resources, searched for treasures or herbs, fought among themselves, or ventured for crystals, Rayll went straight toward the top--leaping, clambering, making time and training Shy all at once.

He found the first crystal prime under a tree root near the edge of one of the high islands. He had to search a cliff face for the next, but he made sure 'twas on his way to the next island. But when he reached the top ledge, Ilaris Elire was there, following the clues same as Rayll. She was on him before he could react, and a third time Rayll found himself in open air.

Shy...

Rayll caught her arm, but Shy didn't know how to sling him like Sheena could. Despite the setback, Rayll thought he could climb the cliff again and make it past Ilaris to the next island. However...

Rayll cried out, startled. Shy's long, triangular scales had opened and stood almost on end, their undersides exhibiting the familiar bluish glow. Rayll found himself ascending freely, and rapidly! "How?!" Such strain to endure! How was it possible? Yet there was the topmost island! "Yes! Shy, you're amaz-- what??"
Shy had passed the island and was still ascending.
"Shy, what are you doing?!"
Shy made a noise, and then Rayll saw it: another island, higher yet, which would normally have been considered impossible to reach. Rayll had not even thought of it as part of the course!
When Shy dropped him onto its surface, under its lone tree, Rayll's eyes went wide. Blue crystals were everywhere! Not natural ones; those were found inside the islands, not on top. These were free-standing and carved. Rayll stopped thinking and grabbed as many as he could carry while still keeping an arm free.
"Now, Shy! Follow!" He jumped, flinging himself mightily downwards. Do or die.

Syri barely had time to react. She steered herself and her gammon beneath what had to be Rayll. Both of them latched on. Syri exclaimed at his armful of crystals, but the wind caught away her words.

Tilen was ready and followed the pattern. Now 2 gammons and 3 elves.

Lastly Raina leaped on, abandoning her own creature. It would follow on its own, like Shy.

The team was descending faster than was safe, but before they reached the ground, all 4 of their original gammons rushed up to meet them, ending their fall at the last moment. Rayll, Syri, Tilen and Raina crumpled to the ground and picked themselves up, staggering to the prime pavilion to turn in their prize.

Rayll dumped them all on the counter's table, to the view of a breathless crowd and a shocked game meister.

"This is... worth more primes than everything else on the course combined! Where did you get these??"

But the Lord of Ethiria was there, and he was laughing with approval. "He did it! Since the very first Gammonback, no one has ever reached the crystal hoard! I put those there, meister. A prize only an outstanding gammon trainer could reach.

Even as he talked, several of the other teams arrived and could only stare, open-mouthed, in shocked and admiring defeat.

"Ethiria! I give you Rayll Konn, Syri Faer, Tilen Renalt, Raina Telden, and the greatest Gammonback the world has ever known!"

Still breathing hard, not quite believing their ears, Rayll and his team looked at each other, smiled incredible smiles, and stood tall, to the thundering cheers and calls of Ethiria and the creatures which shared their victory.

In the years that followed, the crystal hoard now a well-known prize, the focus of the sport necessarily regained its true focus: the bond with the creatures that made it all possible. Many great teams and trainers emerged from the Gammonback. Yet Rayll Konn's incredible margin of victory has never been approached.

Kalon Ordona II wrote:

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In the twelfth millennium of the Elf Lords, steeped in starving decline, desperate outriders in search of new lands discovered the Flying Islands. With the help of airborne creatures they had never seen before, those first elves endured wind-torn loss and fierce exertion, determined to climb the islands farther and farther into the sky. In the centuries that followed, a new civilization was built around the flying islands, ferrying its valuable resources down to the surface and even building their own dwellings up among the clouds. This became Ethiria, and 'twas made possible only by virtue of these extraordinary creatures, which they called gammons.

Now Ethiria nears the culmination of its first millennium. The elves no longer rely on the gammons for survival, but the memory of that early race for life remains along with their connection to the creatures. Over time a sport developed, to commemorate and relive those heroic days of old.

The world called it the greatest sport ever conceived.

The elves of Ethiria call it...


GAMMONBACK




~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Eleventh draught! Runners to the mark!"

Rayll's elvish heart kept pounding in spite of his steadying breaths. The draughts were a brutal race, but the runners nodded to each other in good spirit before focusing on the track ahead. Rayll looked up at his gammon, floating in the air beside him. Sheena looked back with one slitted, shimmering eye. At least one of them was calm.

"Take your stance."

Rayll settled into a crouch, all his weight at the fore of his feet. Sheena moved her muscled tail from side to side, finding the perfect ready position. Just do what you always do, Rayll's inner voice told him. Everything else disappeared--the expectant crowd, the other 23 runners, even the reeling spectacle of the larger islands far below. Only pounding silence remained.

"Go!!"

Ten steps out before he could think, he was jostling madly with the other humans and elves for position. The desperation increased as the edge of the starting island rapidly approached, and many were shoved aside or over the fall just before the jump. Their gammons tumbled after them even as others from below rose up to the rescue. Then Rayll's feet reached the edge of solid ground, and he coiled and sprang, headfirst, toward the next, somewhat lower island.

'Twas a risky move, but Sheena wriggled herself through the air speeding just under Rayll's flight. Rayll landed outstretched on her back, but gammons are not naturally fit for riding, and the extra weight pushed her toward the ground. Rayll was sliding off already. Just as planned. He'd timed it perfectly, and his feet hit the ground running. Now he was ahead of the pack.

Rayll leaped and caught one of the smaller, ladder-islands ahead, swinging his legs up under the clump of earth and twisting so that now his belly was on the top side. Feet under; jump! He caught another. Sheena had caught up to Rayll, one paw nudging in the right direction to give him his bearings. Unfortunately, Rayll was dizzy with exertion when he reached the top; the moment spent gathering to jump was almost one too many. He narrowly missed a launching kick aimed to push him into the sky. The surprise caused him to twist in midair and lose speed, costing him the smooth landing. Catching the ledge he scrambled up, but then the others leaped across to pass him.

Only two stretches left. Rayll caught up among the Hazards, smaller islands spaced much farther apart. Momentum was everything. Rayll was at the head of the pack by the fifth hazard, but just then a strong push sent him flying, nothing below him but sky, and time slowed. Somehow Sheena's arm was there. He grabbed, anticipating his pull on her flight path, but instead of disaster, Rayll found himself swung around like a sling! Extreme precision or pure luck ended the arc of his flight at the farthest hazard. He needed at least 4th place. A leap, and he was on the final island, sprinting toward the leaders, pouring everything into a final dash....

~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Later that day...

"Your majesty, with the last of the 15 paragon draughts completed, we have an exciting group." Three game meisters stood before the Lord of Ethiria, surrounded by dozens of scribes recording every word for the official commentary. The Draught Ring above looked like a great, floating necklace. "Those last five draughts were exemplary, particularly the wild shows of 11 and 14. With such talent this year, what are your predictions for the Gammonback?"

"The sport has become much more competitive in recent years. Each group pushes itself harder than the last, and the feats we saw today are a perfect example. Whatever happens, we're bound to see amazing things this year."

Another stepped forward. "Your majesty, has the new year changed your opinion on humans participating in the Gammonback?"

"Not at all. Anyone may participate. However, there is a reason why, out of all peoples, only humans have ever tried to join. Ever since they first competed alongside us, humans have largely dominated the physical aspects of the sport. Yet each new year proves brute strength is never enough."

The third game meister asked, "Lastly, your majesty, before teams are chosen, is there anyone we should watch in particular?"

"Obviously the paragons from fifth and eighth, and especially the eleventh and fourteenth. As well, our own Ilaris Elire. But I would add one other. He may have finished third in the eleventh draught, but I think we all remember Rayll Konn. Some of us will cite his uncommon daring, agility or speed. However, his true strength lies closer to the heart of Gammonback. If fortune in teams is not unkind, and if the gammon he finds on the surface is anything like his close companion in the draught, I truly believe we have not seen anything yet."

That concluded the round of questions, and the game meisters distributed the entire conversation among Ethiria at large. Tomorrow, the Gammonback would begin.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The following day...

The shadow side of the great island loomed over 60 gammons bearing 60 elves and humans, 4 from each draught, lying precariously on their backs. A crystal cream on the gammons' underbellies, a byproduct of their diet which only the flying islands could provide, cancelled the gammon's weight and allowed them to float freely when unencumbered. Bluish crystal growths on their tendrils, scales, claws and muscular tails afforded great control, while stamina held. Thus all 60 gammons descended at an equal rate, and the circle of participants could focus on the instructor in the center.

"Gammonback is not like the draughts," he began. "Here there is none to save you when you fall. Plan your movements well and"

Rayll already knew all about Gammonback, from blotting other players to establishing relays, strategies for bearing off the primes... His attention moved to study the vertical course in the distance.

"Whichever team collects the most primes the fastest earns the winning title. Everything depends on how well you work with your assigned team. Remember, you must fulfill the minimum quota of 10 primes per member. How you accomplish that is a matter of myriad strategy. Now, each of you was given a sealed roll. Open these; you will find an inscribed symbol, along with a clue to one of the 60 hidden crystal primes. Match yourself to players with the same symbol."

Rayll carefully reached onto his belt, broke the roll's seal with his fingers, and gripped the unwound edge tightly, drawing it out so he could see. Then he held it up for the others and searched their rolls for the symbols that matched.

But as Rayll's team came together, they all felt a growing dismay. Not one of them placed even 2nd in the draughts. With sunken hopes they introduced themselves.
"Syri."
"Raina."
"Tilen."
"Rayll."
Syri sighed. "Yes, everyone knows you, Rayll. If only they let you keep your gammon, then we'd have a chance."
Rayll was all too aware of that. He did have a plan, but he had no guarantee it would work.
"What about the other teams?" said Raina.
Tilen spoke up. "You weren't watching?" They all looked toward the other 14 teams. "At least the 5 favorites are spread out. But look." He pointed ominously across the ring. "An all-human team."
"They'll concentrate on controlling one area," said Rayll. "We'll just have to work around them."
"How?" said Raina.
"Diversion. It'll work against the other teams, too... I think. We distract them, send one up to the highest islands, and relay to the ground."
Syri frowned. "Hard to pull off."
"But he's right," said Tilen. "It's our best chance."

The surface appeared noticeably to increase. Trees, hills, low islands, and everywhere pavilions of all sizes, covered the ground like colored pebbles below them.

"So, who's going to the top?" Raina asked.
Syri and Tilen looked at Rayll.
"Give me your clues," he said. "And while everyone is catching gammons, try to lift as many other clues as you can. Run until they leave. We'll take our gammons last; nobody will want to delay their climb for us."
"Why? What then?" said Tilen.

Rayll took a breath. This was the pivotal point, and they would not approve. "We need space for my plan to work. It won't look good for us in the beginning, but that's what we want: nobody will bother to stop us."

"How will we make up the time?" Syri wanted to know.

"I'll make up the time. Just be ready, no matter what."
Rayll didn't feel half as confident as he forced himself to sound, but they had to take a chance.

Slowly, looking amongst themselves, the others handed him their clues and took to watching the opposing team closely, looking for targets, taking note of who to avoid.

Their circle was nearly level with the tallest treetops when the instructor called them all in close. The teams acknowledged one another and once more wished good spirit to each of their opponents.

"The Gammonback starts now," said the instructor. Everyone jolted into coiled readiness. "As soon as we land, capture a wild gammon any"

But Rayll wasn't listening; he was studying the clues.

Some of the humans and more solidly-built elves were not listening either. They were gone. Exclamations from players and from the crowds below followed these who jumped early from their gammons, risking everything for a head-start. A few more who were less brave or less foolish followed soon after, leaving about half the original number to descend safely--at the cost of first pick of the wild gammons. Rayll, Syri, Tilen and Raina alighted close to earth and bid their gammons a hasty farewell. Rayll took the longest.

"Be ready, Sheena."

If gammons could smile...

Rayll rushed off into the woods nearby, well behind everyone else. Trees closed in, and Rayll hurled himself up into an evergreen branch and started to climb. He could hear murmurs confusion from the nearby crowd. Wasting no time at the top, Rayll leaped into open air and fell some hundred feet to the ground. Just before he hit, there was Sheena, and just as in the race, she flung him mightily through the treetops. Rayll squinted against the needles and rushing air.

Gammons sense their kind; Sheena's aim was true. Rayll stretched his arms and tackled an unsuspecting gammon floating among the trees. Rayll held onto it until it stopped trying to wriggle away.

When they touched earth, he worked his way around to look it in the eyes. They were the color of flower petals, the slits opening slowly. 'Twas a she.

Noise passed by as the others took to the islands above, past the crowds and onto vines and floating rocks, new gammons in tow. Rayll was still panting, eyes locked with his creature. "Can you help me? Please?" The gammon's eyes were fully open, taking him in. Her breathing slowed, and so did Rayll's. "Ready? Let's go!" Both of them got up, Rayll ran, and the gammon followed. Usually that was enough for most. Gammons just trained could support their companions the same way they supported their young. However, Rayll needed more than that if his team was going to win.

"Rayll! We got 2 already!" Tilen passed him 2 clues and rushed past. "Hurry! We'll go ahead."

'Twas a long way up. Rayll scaled the vines while the others, with the gammons' assistance, leaped up the rocks. Rayll's gammon helped, too. Once up the first, the team raced onward.

Suddenly, running too close to the edge, Rayll's foot slipped, and before they knew it he had fallen!

"No! Quick, grab him!"
"It's too late!" Syri said quickly, "he'll be fine. Remember his gammon's down there."
"But--"
"Let's use this time to get more clues, make the others chase us instead of gathering primes!"
"Yes! Hurry!" said Tilen.

The crowd held their breath as Rayll fell. 'Twas not unheard of for one or two participants to lose their lives in the Gammonback. Rayll's new gammon tried to rush after him, but gammon flight simply didn't work for diving. Just in time, Sheena was there after all, slowing him with such skill that Rayll slid safely to the ground. Then the new gammon was there, fussing over Rayll as if he were one of her young. Sheena drew her attention and communicated with her, as if to explain things. Whatever Sheena was doing, it worked. The second gammon looked closely at Rayll, and Rayll put his hands on the sides of her slender head. "Can you do that for me, too?" he said. "I'll call you... Shy." He looked up. Shy followed his gaze and returned it to his. "Shy, shall we go up?"

Raina stood near the edge, keeping the other clues they'd stolen, as Syri and Tilen drew chase from the other teams. Raina gasped, then. Rayll was swinging and leaping, ascending the islands faster than she had thought possible. Before she knew it he'd nearly passed, and just in time she held out the clues for him to grasp. "Find them, Rayll!"

While other teams gathered resources, searched for treasures or herbs, fought among themselves, or ventured for crystals, Rayll went straight toward the top--leaping, clambering, making time and training Shy all at once.

He found the first crystal prime under a tree root near the edge of one of the high islands. He had to search a cliff face for the next, but he made sure 'twas on his way to the next island. But when he reached the top ledge, Ilaris Elire was there, following the clues same as Rayll. She was on him before he could react, and a third time Rayll found himself in open air.

Shy...

Rayll caught her arm, but Shy didn't know how to sling him like Sheena could. Despite the setback, Rayll thought he could climb the cliff again and make it past Ilaris to the next island. However...

Rayll cried out, startled. Shy's long, triangular scales had opened and stood almost on end, their undersides exhibiting the familiar bluish glow. Rayll found himself ascending freely, and rapidly! "How?!" Such strain to endure! How was it possible? Yet there was the topmost island! "Yes! Shy, you're amaz-- what??"
Shy had passed the island and was still ascending.
"Shy, what are you doing?!"
Shy made a noise, and then Rayll saw it: another island, higher yet, which would normally have been considered impossible to reach. Rayll had not even thought of it as part of the course!
When Shy dropped him onto its surface, under its lone tree, Rayll's eyes went wide. Blue crystals were everywhere! Not natural ones; those were found inside the islands, not on top. These were free-standing and carved. Rayll stopped thinking and grabbed as many as he could carry while still keeping an arm free.
"Now, Shy! Follow!" He jumped, flinging himself mightily downwards. Do or die.

Syri barely had time to react. She steered herself and her gammon beneath what had to be Rayll. Both of them latched on. Syri exclaimed at his armful of crystals, but the wind caught away her words.

Tilen was ready and followed the pattern. Now 2 gammons and 3 elves.

Lastly Raina leaped on, abandoning her own creature. It would follow on its own, like Shy.

The team was descending faster than was safe, but before they reached the ground, all 4 of their original gammons rushed up to meet them, ending their fall at the last moment. Rayll, Syri, Tilen and Raina crumpled to the ground and picked themselves up, staggering to the prime pavilion to turn in their prize.

Rayll dumped them all on the counter's table, to the view of a breathless crowd and a shocked game meister.

"This is... worth more primes than everything else on the course combined! Where did you get these??"

But the Lord of Ethiria was there, and he was laughing with approval. "He did it! Since the very first Gammonback, no one has ever reached the crystal hoard! I put those there, meister. A prize only an outstanding gammon trainer could reach.

Even as he talked, several of the other teams arrived and could only stare, open-mouthed, in shocked and admiring defeat.

"Ethiria! I give you Rayll Konn, Syri Faer, Tilen Renalt, Raina Telden, and the greatest Gammonback the world has ever known!"

Still breathing hard, not quite believing their ears, Rayll and his team looked at each other, smiled incredible smiles, and stood tall, to the thundering cheers and calls of Ethiria and the creatures which shared their victory.

In the years that followed, the crystal hoard now a well-known prize, the focus of the sport necessarily regained its true focus: the bond with the creatures that made it all possible.

Many great teams and trainers emerged from the Gammonback.
Yet Rayll Konn's incredible margin of victory has never been approached.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Gadreille wrote:The whistle blew, and Ellie dove into the rectangular pool. The water rushed into her thin blue helmet, drenching her auburn hair. As a center player for the Jonques, she was rarely outside of the deeps, a six meter section in the middle of the pool that was approximately four meters deep. This section gradually became shallow on either end, leaving about ten meters of shallow water on either side, where the nets hung high above the side of the pool. Ellie’s job in the deeps was to get the ball at all costs; whether she had to steal it, chase it, or catch it. Once it was hers, she had to get it out of the deeps, preferably to the opposing team’s shallows. She was the go-to player between the two guards who defended their net, and the two forwards who tried to score on the opposing team.

The pool was about twelve meters in width, and her dive took her about a quarter ways across. Being strictly in the deeps, she was permitted to wear goggles, something the other four players were not granted. She looked beyond, and noticed the Minnows’ center whose blue body suit read TENG was surfacing early. His shaven head crested the surface, powerful arms moving in a breaststroke in a genius attempt to get to the ball faster. What he didn’t know was that Ellie was one of the fastest underwater swimmers currently playing in the Collegiate Waterbasketball Championships, CWC.

Ellie butterflied into position below the bright yellow ball and then thrust upward from the bottom of the pool. Her yellow body suit clung to her body, and she was grateful for it. As a kid she would play in clothes because swimsuits were too flimsy. When she finally joined a team she rejoiced at their professional swimwear. The one piece suit fit like a snug tank top and covered her down to mid-thigh. On the back was her last name in bold lettering, DAKOTA, and on the front, a gorgeous sailing ship that their team was named after. Her feet scraped the bottom as she pushed off, but years of practice had awarded her with strong feet that did not tear. It was helpful when she was forced out of the deeps and into the shallows. The other four players wore protective shoes, something that Ellie opted not to wear. It slowed her down just a fraction of a second, but it was enough to give her a positive edge in the game. If she was going to go pro, she needed every edge she could get.

Ellie burst from the water, wrapping her arms around the yellow ball before throwing her feet before her and backkicking away from Teng. She looked to the left to see if her teammates were in position; it was a mere glance but Josson looked open, so she halted her backkick, pivoted her legs beneath her and moved her legs eggbeater style. She lifted out of the water almost to her belly button, and at the crest of the lift Ellie tossed the ball with all her might toward the open player. The ball left her hands just before Teng reached her. She and he both took off toward his team’s shallows, halting at the blue line, unable to go any farther. The only time a center could leave the deeps was when a player was on the sides for a penalty.

The tall blonde Josson went for the shot, but the ball bounced off of the backboard and flew back into the pool. The Minnows’ guard, a burly man whose suit read MARIO, grabbed it and tossed it out to the deeps, to the right of Teng. Ellie took off after him reaching out and grabbing his shoed foot to pull him backward and her forward. This sort of grappling was only allowed in the deeps, and it was her greatest downfall. On occasion when she was forced to the shallows, she was always getting penalized for over aggressive play. In the deeps however…it was nearly free rein. Most kinds of grappling were permitted so long as the opposing player had the ball in hand. Punching, kicking, and purposeful slamming to the pool sides were really the only kinds of aggressive play not permitted while in the deeps. She was guilty for these too.

Unfortunately even with this freedom she couldn’t always win. Teng already had the ball in hand, so when she yanked him back, he flipped underneath her and surfaced behind, sending the ball toward one of his forwards in the Jonque shallows. She cursed herself for not being fast enough, and paddled toward the opposite line. The curly-haired forward, whose suit read LEVITZ, jumped and arched the ball toward the basketball net. Her own team’s guard didn’t even have a chance to block. The scoreboard lit up 0:2 and the ball was given to the Jonques for takeout.

All of the players moved to the deeps, as was required. Their forward Erickson moved to the side to toss the ball in, and Ellie found Teng moving in to block her from Erickson’s shot. She backed up clear to the opposite side of the pool, and then pushed off to try and move ahead of him. He was too fast, however, and she found herself unable to free herself from his shadow. The ball was passed to one of the guards, Petto, who made a feeble attempt to pass it to the other forward, Josson, but not before the entire Minnows team barreled down on him. In mere moments there was chaos as both teams rushed in, each trying to keep the other from the ball. Grappling was only allowed with the ball in hand, but as one player latched onto another, it cascaded into a chain reaction of interlocking bodies as each struggled to get to the bright yellow prize in the middle.

Ellie noticed her guard go under, a potentially dangerous legal move played by a Minnows guard, MOORE. Holding a player under until they break free or release the ball was technically not a foul. However, with both teams centered on getting the ball, it became hard for the referees to determine who exactly had the ball. Often illegal grappling would happen without ever gaining the ref’s notice. Ellie was well aware of it, as she moved forward to pull Moore off of Petto but was pushed under by another player before her hands had even touched Moore. The referee didn’t catch it. When she resurfaced, she brought her elbow up into Moore’s face in anger before he could sink her again. A whistle rang out from the pool side.

Now the ref is looking, Ellie thought with an internal scream, and she swam to the side to sit out the next two minutes. The game had only begun and she was already on the side. What was worse is they were already down a point, and this just opened the door for them to go on a losing streak. Ellie bent over in frustration, but she didn’t even have time to put her face in her hands before Coach was at her side. She glanced up at him for a moment but then looked away. She couldn’t meet his gaze.

“What was that, Dakota?” He practically screamed, thrusting his hand out toward the pool, where the game had just resumed.

“He was on my back, Coach. The ref missed it.” She tried not to sound overly defensive, as she had been in the past.

“So you are a ref now, are you? Where’s my center? Save your aggression for the player with the ball, Dakota.”

“Yea, I got it,” Ellie said, irritation in her voice.

“No, Ellie, you don’t got it,” Coach replied, and this time, his tone was softer. She looked up at him again, this time into the dark brown eyes that were obscured by the white hat he wore over his salt and pepper curls.

He nodded his head toward the stands, where the audience was cheering down at them. “There’re recruiters out there today. I didn’t tell the team because you all didn’t need the pressure, but I know you, Ellie. I know you are thinking pro. You need to get your head in the game if you want to have a chance to sign on with the Pelicans or the Clippers. You gonna do NWC? Act like it.”

Ellie’s heart stopped. The Pelicans and the Clippers were the two nearest National Waterbasketball Championship teams. The game she was playing wasn’t even playoffs, she hadn’t even considered that a professional recruiter would be among the crowd. She’d already made a fool of herself, how could she possibly have a chance?

The buzzer sounded, and Ellie cringed as the Minnows scored again. There was no surprise there. It was all a part of the game, though no rule book would tell you so. Take out a center; it’s practically giving them a free throw. The deeps are too wide, and the other members too used to the shallows to be able to do anything but defend.

The seconds on her timer counted down slowly. Surely it had been two minutes already! There was no possible way there could still be fifty-six seconds until she could get back in the game. The Jonques took out again, but it was futile. Every member was covered, and there was no one in the deeps to swim for a long throw. The Minnows had the ball within seconds. Fifty-one seconds left…

Her guards managed to extract the ball from the other team. They tossed it to the deeps, where Josson was treading while Erickson tried to keep clear of the opposite teams two guards. It was illegal to toss the ball from one shallow to the other, but her Josson was no center, and Teng was already on him. They had no chance of getting the ball into offensive position. Forty-eight seconds…

The ball quickly moved back towards the Jonques net, but her guards put up quite a fight. Spindly, brown-haired Bishop blocked Levitz from a clear shot, grabbing the ball mid-air with an amazing lunge. As soon as the ball was in Bishop’s grasp, Levitz took Bishop down. Ellie could feel the crowd hold their breath as Bishop struggled to surface. There was a collective moan from the crowd as the ball popped up just before Bishop thrust his head out to breathe. He must have gotten caught on an exhale. It was another dirty trick that they didn’t teach you while playing little league. Thirty-two seconds…

Levitz caught the ball and tossed it to his partner whose suit read KERR. Ellie groaned inwardly. The girl was an amazing shot. Height didn’t have as much to do with this game as the land-based version, but generally, the forwards were tall. Kerr wasn’t tall at all – the redhead’s torso was halfway submerged in the meter deep shallows. It was no mistake though that the yellow ball arched half way across the shallows and landed straight in the basket, with nothing but net. That girl was accurate. The points were racking up fast. Twenty-three seconds…

The Jonques took out again, again without their center. This time it was Petto, the guard, who dove in her place. It was a smart move. Last time they had played it safe, using Erickson from the offense. They were trying to keep their defense up while down a man. This time, however, they were going all out. They needed to keep the ball in the enemy’s court. Petto dove in, but Teng was too fast. He was at the ball in seconds, ready to swim toward the basket. Suddenly he was pulled under, and Ellie cheered with the rest of the crowd as Teng struggled to resurface with the ball in hand. It was no use, Petto’s grip was tight, and it was not Teng but Petto who surfaced, ball in hand. Petto immediately tossed it in the other direction, and remained wading in the deeps rather than returning to his position. Ten seconds…

Another cluster in the shallows, Ellie couldn’t make out the details. Seven seconds…Suddenly, the whistle blew; Moore was called out for grappling an unhanded player. Ellie smiled as she saw him pull up onto the side, and his timer set for two minutes. This is going to even the odds, she thought. Three. Two. One. Let’s do this.

A bell rang, and Ellie dove back into the water.