[center][h2]Festival of the Red Leaves[/h2][/center]

The crowd watched with bated breath. Those lucky enough to be seated at the front were nearly falling off their benches, and those that had arrived later all held onto the haphazardly constructed railings of the auditorium as if their lives depended on it, leaning out to watch for every slight movement behind the massive curtains that covered the stage.

Out of nowhere, a raspy, deep female voice rang out throughout the auditorium and into all of the spectators’ earpieces.

“WELCOME, LADIES AND GENTLEBEASTS, TO…”

Drums started to roll. A row of bonfires lit up between the audience and the stage. 

“... THE RED LEAF!”

A shockwave swept through the crowd, echoing in their lungs and beating against their hearts. 

People cheered. They jumped, they screamed in excitement. Wolfkin howled, their wagging tails swatting away all the smaller kin. Lionkin roared, while Apekin beat their chests or vandalised their immediate areas. 

Suddenly, the auditorium had fallen into pure chaos and as quickly as it had happened, everything fell silent as the bronze curtains lifted off the stage, revealing a great gathering of dozens of Chariots of all shapes and sizes and colours. Piloting teams stood on top of their vehicles, with one calling particular attention from the crowd. The foremost chariot, bronzed in colour and sporting a ruthlessly streamlined form, hissed as its cockpit opened and its pilot stood up to smirk at the crowd. 

The crowd erupted again. Some hollered, others laughed, and a minority booed… Because there, in the forefront of the whole Red Leaf Race, stood their Goddess dressed in a rather flattering Chariot Jumpsuit.

Eleanna’s smirk turned into a grin, and then she waved at the crowd. From her place, it seemed like the auditorium reached up into the stars and the number of people crammed into every last square metre of the place was unbelievable. She loved the attention, and she loved the way the other racers’ eyes were glued to the back of her head. Jealousy, admiration, hatred, love. At that moment, she was alive!

Soon, the announcer began to speak once more, stepping out onto the stage. It was a rather short Mousekin, who had only inherited her clan’s ears, tail and voracious appetite, and yet her voice was deeper and more powerful than even Eleanna’s.

“BE PREPARED, FOR TODAY WE ARE WITNESSING THE BEST OF THE BEST… THE MOST INTENSE, MOST VIOLENT, CRAZIEST EVER CHARIOT RACE IN THE HISTORY OF THE DAMAN LANDS!”

The crowd’s cheers rose to a peak, and they started throwing rice, corn and sand at the stage. 

All the Chariot pilots put on their goggles and jumped into their chariots, cockpits of all kinds sliding and closing.

“SPEED! DANGER! CRASHES! EXPLOSIONS! BLOOD! ALL OF THIS AND MORE ON THE LONGEST, HARSHEST ROUTE THAT WE HAVE EVER DEVISED, RUNNING STRAIGHT FROM HERE, OVER AND UNDER THE DUNES OF THE GREAT DAMAN DESERT, PAST THE SILVAN-RICH LANDS OF THE LAMP, THROUGH THE CHAOTIC LANDS OF AN UNCLAIMED NODE, AND FINISHING AT THE TALLEST PEAK IN THE WORLD – MOUNT SUNYA!”

The crowd went crazy, as fire spewed from the metallic chariots and light and wind came from the wooden ones. 

“AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST – HOPE YOU’VE ALL GOT YOUR EYEMEMS WITH YA! ‘CAUSE WE’LL BE BROADCASTING THE WHOLE RACE THROUGH YOUR EARPIECES. YES! YOU HEARD THAT RIGHT, THE WHOLE RACE! SO WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, AGAIN…”

Eleanna’s chariot trembled, a bright glow enveloping all six of its wheels as white smoke rose from its back two wheels.

“WELCOME TO THE RED LEAF RACE! PILOTS BE READY…”

A cacophony of screaming metal and wood overtook even the cheers of the crowd, all kinds of spiritual energy flooding out of the stage as the pilots poured their beings into their Chariots.

“SET…”

The crowd fell silent, breathlessly.

“GO!” The Announcer shouted, jumping off the stage just in time for the sandstone edifice to shake as dozens of Chariots burst forth, crashing down onto the avenue cutting right through the centre of the auditorium and shooting off into the course.

The last thing Eleanna saw and heard before exiting the Auditorium was the resumed hollering and cheering of the crowd as both children and adults bid the pilots, including her, goodbye.

With a last smirk purely to herself, she switched up the grip on her steering bar and carefully modulated the amount of Soul she was feeding into her Chariot. It was going to be a long, difficult race.

[hider=Summary]

Crowds gather at an Auditorium located in New Dama ready to watch the start of the Red Leaf Race, the main event behind the Festival of the Red Leaves and a race where cutting edge Daman Chariots built with Ambroisen Fibres and Soul Burners are used to push the limits of speed and test the mettle of pilots of all races.  This specific RLR will go through the Daman Desert, Node 14, unclaimed Node 9, and finish in Node 3. It is going to be a several-day-long event where spectators tuning in with brand-new communications devices will expect to hear and see pilots crash and die. It is considered a one-in-a-lifetime RLR because Eleanna herself will be participating in the Race. 

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[hider=Might]
Used 2 Might to get up to Bronze tech (tier 3)

Used 3 Might to bless the Daman Peoples and anyone who visits the Daman Lands with the ability to learn Soul Manipulation, a kind of magic that allows a person to use their soul’s energy to produce certain effects such as increased physical attributes, appearance, mental attributes, or perhaps even aid fast healing of wounds and hastened immunisation against disease. Overuse leads to unconsciousness, comas and/or death. Soul Manipulation cannot create fireballs, lightning, etc, but when mixed with Ambroisen Fibres can be used to fuel machinery that would otherwise be impossible to run. This is a dangerous procedure, and in order to interface Ambroisen with a soul, one must take great care and hire only the best craftsmen to create the adaptors and Jumpsuits.

Used 3 Might to sponsor the development of Chariots, advanced vehicles fueled by Soul Burners that supply energy to all kinds of Ambroisen elements inside the chariots, allowing them to be self-propelled at the cost of a notable drain of the pilot’s soul reserves, which must quickly and efficiently be replenished between drives lest tragedy occur.

0 Might remaining
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