As Elarith Rædbeard set her cone down and watched the Tubsters making their ways to the start line on the river below, two latecomers came hurrying up, asking to join. She took a calculating look at her hourglass.
"Yes, my lads, you've made it," she told Léowine and Callimdir. The latter asked a couple of questions, and Rædbeard nodded as she leafed through some parchment on the table. She kept looking whilst she answered.
"Yes, anyone fool- I mean, bold and water-crafty enough, of any race, can join. And no, there is no charge. Just make sure you sign the indemnity waiver here," she said, triumphantly pulling a page from a pile and thrusting it towards the pair along with a quill. "Usual legal bumph, not fallible in case of loss of property, limb, life, and so on, and so on. It runs to seventeen sides of parchment if you absolutely must read all the details, but I'm afraid, gentlemen, that it may delay you somewhat."
“Anyway, important administration documents with potentially costly legal implications aside, you're a team now. Best hurry down to the start line and into your keg,” Rædbeard finished.
The fake-bearded lady shuffled her papers back into some semblance of order. Another person came up to her and saluted and called her ‘Cap’n’. Fine by her. As he began to speak, she twigged that she did indeed recognise him - though obviously not him her.
"Ho, Silæs! It is me, Elarith!" she said with an outrageous wink, tugging the beard down. "But we're keeping that under our hats, yes?" she said, tapping the side of hers. “Glad to hear you have a cart on stand by, I’ve got all this bits of parchment to keep safe and dry. Don’t want any comebacks now.” She slipped the pile into a leather wrapping and tied it shut.
Silæs also had news of Rusty’s whereabouts for her. “So he’s gone on ahead has he? As long as he’s making himself useful. Shame he's going to miss the start though.”
As Silæs produced the legendary conch, Elarith whipped off her hat in honour of it. “Oooh! Shiny!” she said, taking it carefully from him in both hands. If she dropped this now she would never hear the end of it. Trying to remember to breathe, she walked to an outcrop of rock which overlooked the starting markers of the race course. The crowd of onlookers went quiet. She took a deep breath and shouted:
“Six intrepid teams set out to ride the Tub Race! May Ulmo watch over them!
“All set… and….”
Rædbeard filled her lungs and blew through the conch as hard as she could.
“Pfft…. perrrrrrrpt…. perraaaaaapt”
‘Oh, just GO!” she yelled, defeated by a shell.
What was it with this conch? Did you need a special course she hadn’t attended to get anything louder that a badger’s sneeze out of it?
GM: TUB RACERS! Please get yourself and your crafts into the water and underway, ready for the first round!