Riss Cobalt, sorceress supreme, takes part in a beauty contest in this short adventure taking place before the Kismet and Tell novel.
The Contest: An Early Adventure in Sorcery
Looking at my feet and wrapping my arms around my stomach, I walk heedlessly down the cobblestone street of the city of Nortown in the bright morning light. I hadn’t come across any bandits to rob in the last couple of days, and now my supply of gold coins was about gone. And in order for me to make them stretch, I’ve had to cut back on the amount of food I’ve had to eat. And now I’m STARVING!
My stomach growls, and I flinch instinctively, hoping that none of the pedestrians around me heard it. It would be quite embarrassing for me, Marissa “Riss” Cobalt, the pretty, sixteen-year-old, blue-haired, ruthless, sorceress supreme, and the bane of all evil everywhere in the world of Andor…
Uh, sorry.
It would be quite embarrassing for someone of my infamous reputation to have a complete stranger hear her stomach rumbling.
The next thing I know… THUD! I’ve walked into a wooden post. I step back and rub my nose as I look at the post that had somehow come out of nowhere and placed itself right in my path.
Actually, it had always been right there in the middle of the city’s common, I just hadn’t been paying attention to where I was going.
Looking at the offending wooden post, I notice a sign that had been tacked to it. I read it with growing enthusiasm.
“Fifth Annual Beauty Contest Announced! Winner recieves 100 gold pieces! All beautiful women sixteen and older may enter!”
One hundred gold pieces? All RIGHT! That’ll feed me for a good while. But the contest is today. In just a few hours, actually. I’d better go register and see what I might need to get for the contest.
* * *
It took me the entire three hours to register, to “borrow” a nice dress and swimsuit from a store when the owner wasn’t looking, and to figure out what I could do for the talent part of the contest. I want to win, but fair and square. I don’t want them to just give me the win because of my reputation. And because I’m the only person in the whole world of Andor with blue hair, I bought a black wig. I can’t change my hair color any other way, even by magic, because it just won’t change. And I registered under my true name – Marissa Callis. I took the name Cobalt when I struck off on my own to make my fortune. Then, not wanting to use magic as my talent, because that might give me away, I decided to do cooking, since I love food and consider myself a good cook.
Now here I am, standing in the city common, behind an impromptu wooden stage, surrounded by thirty other contestants, waiting to be called up before the judges and what had to be the entire city.
I don’t normally get nervous, but now I am. I’m pacing back and forth.
All these women are so pretty. Any one of the them could easily win. Why did I enter this? I don’t have a chance of winning.
My stomach rumbles again, and my face gets warm. I hope again that no one heard it.
That’s why I entered. I need the money. By Dumarh, I AM going to win this. I WILL eat again!
So determining, I walk up behind the stage and watch the contestant up there. The tall blonde is prancing around like a snobby princess in her pink, lacy gown and glass slippers. I smile wryly and place my hand on the stage. I take a quick glance around me, making sure no one is watching me, then turn back to the contest and quietly whisper a modified spell. One of the stage planks cracks all the way down, just as the “princess” is stepping on it. Her heel catches, and she falls flat on her face. Not a good thing, scorewise. The stagehands help her up, make sure she isn’t hurt, and escort her off stage. I can’t help but feel a little extra satisfaction, because she had been extremely annoying from the start, harping to us all about how she had won every year before and was going to win again.
Now, my name is called. I walk up on stage and model my blue satin gown that just happens to accentuate my fine, slender figure rather nicely. I make certain to avoid the cracked plank. I leave the stage to a rather loud round of applause, and my face grows warm. I feel a little embarrassed. I’m not used to receiving applause, because of my bad reputation. But then I remember that they don’t know it’s me, and my courage is bolstered.
Another blonde contestant goes up on stage, and I sabotage her modeling with another minor spell. A magical gust of wind blows her skirt up over her head. Totally embarrassed, she runs off stage and drops out of the contest.
I also manage to drive a lot of the other contestants away before they even get called up, by playing around with a color-changing spell. I change the color of their gowns, and their hair, painting a splash of rainbow colors across each. Horrified, they run off. There is no way they can fix themselves in time for the next round. Because it starts now.
The judges seem a bit perplexed by the sudden loss of most of their contestants. Only about ten of us remain. But the judges decide to continue on. The talent round begins. The “princess” is called up first. She hobbles up and takes center stage. She begins singing. Her voice isn’t very good. She could probably attract a goblin with that voice, but not a man. There’s no need for me to sabotage her this time. She’s doing a fine job of that herself. Don’t believe me? Check out the looks of pain on the faces of the judges and the spectators. At the end of the way-too-long song, the judges and spectators applaud, not because they liked it but because it was over. Clueless as to the reason for the tremendous round of applause, the “princess” beams with pleasure as she leaves the stage.
Another contestant is called up. This redhead does a tap-dancing routine. She seems pretty good, so I have to sabotage her. I cast a small spell that causes her heels to break. She falls on her butt uncermoniously.
Another contestant goes up. The brown-haired girl does a mime routine. Rather badly, too.
Knowing that I would be called up next, I decide to get my food ready while she is up there. A special stove had been set up for me – a cast iron stove that uses magic to heat and cook instead of fire. I had made enough roasted chicken, baked potatoes, and blueberry muffins for everyone to have a sample – including some “special” samples for the contestants who hadn’t done their talent show yet.
The contestant gets “boo”ed off stage. I hand out my “special” samples, then take a couple plates full of food up on stage with me when my name is called.
I pass out my food to the judges, and the stagehands pass out what they can to the spectators. My cooking receives rave applause.
I leave the stage to find my “special” samples had taken effect. The six contestants who hadn’t shown their talent yet had dropped out, having taken ill all of a sudden.
That leaves me, “princess”, the tap-dancer, and the mime. I’m sure to win with these odds, now.
Time for the swimsuit competition.
Behind the stage, we take our gowns off, stripping down to our swimsuits. Then the first contestant is called up. She is the tap-dancer. And she looks great in her bare-belly black swimsuit. Before I can decide how to sabotage her, though, she leaves the stage.
The mime is called up next. Her simple green swimsuit is rather nice, too. Quite attractive on her. Especially nice is that it ties in the back. Easy to sabotage with a spell. I do so, and the top of her swimsuit falls down. She screams and covers herself with her arms and runs off stage, but not before giving the judges and spectators a good eyefull of her assets and causing quite a few men to have nosebleeds. She runs off from the contest.
“Princess” goes up next in a cute little pink bikini. But she comes back down before I can sabotage her.
Then I hear my name called and I go up on stage. I have on a simple one-piece blue swimsuit with no frills. I model briefly then start to leave the stage, but a stagehand tells me to remain on stage. The others are called back up. We three stand side by side in center stage as the judges discuss amongst themselves.
I stand there for about five minutes, trying not to fidget noticeably. Finally, the judges come to a decision.
“The winner,” they announce with one voice, “is Marissa Callis. Not only is she beautiful and full of grace and poise, but she is a terrific cook.”
My mouth hangs wide open in shock.
I…I won!
The tap-dancer walks over to me and hugs me. “Princess” just glares at me. What a sore loser.
One of the judges walks up on stage and hands me a bag of coins and places a silver coronet on my head. He shakes my hand.
Then the coronet slides off my head, taking my wig with it. My blue hair is reaveled. Gasps of shock echo all around me. I’m frozen in fear.
“M…Marissa Cobalt,” people around me manage to stutter out. “It’s Marissa Cobalt.”
The judge before me comes to his senses. He takes the bag of gold from my hand. “I’m sorry, Miss Marissa,” he says. “You entered this contest under fraudulent circumstances. I’m afraid you have disqualified yourself and I must take the win from you.” He retrieves the silver coronet and gives it and the bag of gold to “princess”. “Miss Laurel Manheim,” he says, “you are the winner, again. Congratulations.”
Fuming, I stalk off stage. I walk off a short distance, turn around, and, seeing that the stage had at last been vacated, I cast and launch a Fireball at it. The burning stage goes up in smoke, just like my dream of winning a beauty pageant and getting enough money to feed myself.
I return to the building where I had registered, go to the room where I had changed into my gown, put my leather pants, boots, white shirt, leather tunic, gloves, and gold circlet back on. Then I strap on my short sword, put my little brown cloak back on, fix my long braid, and leave the city.
Time to find some bandits to rob.
I hope it’s soon.
I’m HUNGRY!
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