Dhalgren strained against the rope, tugging in time with the others as his team pulled as hard as they could. He could feel the heel and toes of his boots grind hard into even the hard-packed soil of the square as he fought for purchase. The rope bound tight against his palms, and his fingers tingled slightly from the pressure of his grip on the rough braid of the rope. Even though he put out as much effort as he could, it was all to naught as he found himself in a cloud of dust on the ground from the other teams pull. Getting up and dusting himself off, he patted a few of the others on the back from his team for a good effort while receiving a few in return. Taking a moment to congratulate a few others form the other team, he noticed that the other traveler had already taken his leave from the contest. He chatted idly with a few of the contestants, before taking his leave and retrieving his pack and halberd from the sidelines. 

It was then that the crowd gathered around a wagon, and he joined listening to the speech. As the speech progressed he touched the steel of his halberd, in a small tribute to his own god Gorum. Dhalgren didn't like other gods, mostly because he considered them insipid and weak. While his parents were never particularly religious, throughout his travels so far Dhalgren had learned to take pride in his own skill and independence, and strength of self. He believed that Gorum well suited such traits, and he strived do become stronger and learn more skills of battle. That said he did find the unveiling of the butterflies interesting, and he watched as they swirled into the sky in a fountain of colour. 

That done, he mingled with the crowd enjoying some of the free food and drink. He generally stayed away from the more unique dishes, instead staying with familiar foods like the beef or venison. He chatted idly with a few locals, most of the conversation running about the various foods or drinks upon various tables.