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Excellence in all fields
You dazzle in mycological flyting, demolishing Clay Men, Khaganians and clergymen with devastating chiastic hexasyllables on the subject of the Neath's myriad fungi. The final is between you and a Struggling Artist – an old hand at the Singing Mandrake. He nods in acknowledgement of your history. It is close-fought, but your closing stanza – a sestina in which you turn the Artist's six most blundering word choices against him in a masterwork of mocking lexical repetition – leaves no doubt as to the winner.
Next, the contest of gadgetry, the subject of careful planning. The final bracket pitches you against representatives from Caminus Yards, as well as a team of Rattus faber in L.B. Industries uniforms. In the end, it comes down to the judges. The Rattus faber produce a ratwork marvel of a timepiece, while Caminus Yards present an improved design for a flensing-cannon. Both are worthy – but neither play to the panel. Your invention takes the event, as the judge from the Wakeful Eye becomes so enamoured with your self-lighting hookah that she petitions to take it home with her.
The contest of riddles is blessedly short. The entrants from Whither and Irem knock each other out – one unable to follow a question with an answer, and the other only willing to postulate as to what the answer will be – leaving the field barren of any real competition. After besting a Cobra-masked querent from Visage, a burbling Rubbery Man, and an entrant from Mutton Island whose 'riddles' take the form of bawdy jokes, you are awarded the win on points.
Finally, the Flitfall Steeplechase – a freeform race over the rooftops, with checkpoints at major churches and chapels. It is gruelling, all weightless leaps and knee-shuddering landings, the field littered with agile urchins. Fortunately, it takes little effort to engineer a turf war – blame a little nudge on the Runner from the Crosses, and all the Noughts spring into action. By the time St Aegidius' looms into view, it is only you and the competitor from Abbey Rock remaining – and she does not have your local knowledge.
The Tiger Keeper presents your medal in a smaller amphitheatre. The crowd is modest, but his gaze is bright and alert as he loops the ribbon around your neck. "Once, this distinction meant a warrior was ready for war." He chuffs, and pads away, leaving you with the crowd's cheers.
The Distinction of the Waking Fire You now have 1 x The Distinction of the Waking Fire. Coilheart Renown You've lost 20,000 x Coilheart Renown
