(Reposted from Vanguard Roleplayers forums)
It is the evening after the races have come to a close. Abandoned in the shade of one of the angular Varanthari buildings, one might find a bowl with a few scraps of meat and grain left in the bottom, its owner nowhere to be found. Nearby are several discarded sheets of paper with detailed sketches done in a wide sweeping caligraphic style. Hard to make out at first, it becomes apparent that these scenes depict the events of the day prior, filled with peoples of all races and horses of many breeds. In the bottom left-hand corner of each paper, a little scratchy handwriting captions each picture. In the right-hand corner, identical on each page, an oriental pictogram can be seen, roughly looking like a crescent moon sprouting what seems to be either a cloud or an angel's wing.
"A crowd gathers and the first horse race begins. Diplomat versus Varanthari."
"The second horse race lineup. Showed them size of a horse doesn't matter. Poor girl wasn't accustomed to the heat though and slowed down on the final bend."
"The sun sets as the foot race contestants line up. Many more competators this time."
"Twilight sets in as the race begins. Had to light up a torch to see what was going on."
"After the races, I witnessed an inquisition of dark elves interview a poor little fox man. Though perhaps poor elf, as one seemed to be allergic to the diminutive one."