[Gossamer]

There was an air of anticipation as the ten contestants came forward and everyone gathered by their equipment. Judges walked through the lineup making sure the stick-darts of tranquilizer were loaded up well and everyone had everything in hand. The wild elephants milled around the sturdy pen, ears flapping in the wind, some bugling their nervousness. All had their tusks wrapped for safety, it was the one thing the judges could do to try and keep their contestants somewhat...'safe'.

Then, a horn blew, calling out well into the region echoing over the city. Each contestant knew what that was about, and as one the ten men leaped forward, their stick darts in hand, and charged into the pen. At this point, it wasn't so much about winning any 'race' per say. It was far more about not getting flattened like a pancake or tossed by a tusk as the herd of young bulls surged away at the response to the influx of humans and mixed bloods. Most of the contestants were Kemite, but a few naturally were half or full elves. The strategies varied. Some contestants hauled their elephant saddles with them, using them as a sort of shield, lines trailing as they wove among the numbered elephants heading each towards their chosen one. Some ran without their tack, intending to drug their animal and go back for the bundle of heavy gear after it was accomplished.

Whatever the stragedy, it was pure chaos. A mere boy with the white tack ran forward, his stick gun in hand, and dropped his tack by the elephant of his choice and bravely plunged his stick dart into a nearby leg using all the force of his body. The elephant bugled, and sidestepped putting the boy in the path of another young bull, which lowered its head and charged the lad, tossing him skyward. The boy landed in a tucked roll, darted away, and circled around his elephant... number four... waiting for it to to go down. It did, shortly thereafter, and while the creature was on its haunches, only upright by one leg, he threw the saddle upon its back and ran the lines under its belly securing them on the other side with a few strategic leaps. White and number four were linked then, as the boy was the first to get his saddled (though not tightly.. that came as somewhat a struggle in the next few minutes) and crawled into the saddle, pumping his victory even as his nose ran red with blood caused by the other bull, number six, who'd tossed him skyward.

Men plunged stick darts everywhere, and yellow was up, then green. The young man who'd claimed the red tack in the name of Clan Dragon had unfortunately ended up in a pile of red himself, only it wasn't colorfully decorated leather... it was his own blood as he got stomped repeatedly by a particular aggressive young bull bearing the number one.

Austin, with his black tack, was confronted by the very large elephant he himself had bet on... number seven. The bull bugled and flapped his ears threateningly, but if the man was quick, he could probably drop his tack and dart into try and make the drug work. If he couldn't drug something, he'd be hard pressed to get any tack on at all.

Meanwhile, yellow and orange were fighting over the same elephant that they'd evidently both drugged from either angle. It had toppled over on its side, a bold number 9 painted on it, and was snoring soundly apparently due to a double dose of tranquilizer.

Hanzi, on the other hand, with his brown tack, was confronted by what looked to be a younger bull, though nothing gave him any indication that it was anything but as angry as the other ones. It was small, looked swift, and had a number 10 painted boldly on its rump in bright paint. It faced him, neither turning to one side or another.. its stubby wrapped tusks only half grown. But it looked fast, and stubborn, and by and large ready to fight. He only had one chance, if he wanted to drug it and mount up as the others were already doing... few elephants were left, but this one was alone near him, and he looked like he had a great shot.