Frank
Sir Heath Romanov
The Cliffs
Brindelle

The noble knights of Feyshore watched in a stunned silence as the boy failed to emerge fully from the grave. The muffled ramblings of a madman drifted from the dirt. 

"Hogcock?" Heath muttered, side eyeing his comrades. "The poor fuck's gone delirious from lack of air." With a heavy sigh, he reached down to grab a spade. Before he could move further, the dirt rustled and Valentyne's head popped up from the grave like the spring daisies of that very season.

"*On the eve of Hogcock, no less!*" He shrieked, eyes bleary and face caked in mud. Heath and Sir Oreson hurried over to hoist the boy up by his shoulders and out of the dirt. They laid him on the wet grass and looked down at him quizzically. 

"Do you think he'll go back to normal, soon?" Heath asked the group. "In any case, I suppose we can count this as a pass. He *Did* Make it out." He looked to the Sir Tate. "It's your call."
Nancy
Ser Oreson Buckle
The Cliffs, Brindelle

Ser Oreson nudged the side of him with his boot. The hole from which the boy had emerged was no larger than one of his thighs.

"No," He said, solemnly. In a flourish, he removed his floppy hat and held it close to his chest. "He appeared to have swallowed a large amount of dirt. Dirt Madness, I've heard it called." He cast his gaze downwards and began to shake his head, "He may never recover..."
Dorothy
**Sir Sterling Meese
The Cliffs, Brindelle**

Sterling let out a sigh of relief and smiled when Valentyn made it to the surface. He turned his gaze toward Fulton. "Pay up. He made it." Sterling extended a hand.
Barbara
Sir Fulton Coxe 
The Cliffs, Brindelle 

Fulton locked eyes with Stirling, and let out a scoff. "Our wager was for him to make it out in *One* Piece." Fulton pointed to the boy, "Little shit's lost his mind in that hole, so it's you who owes."
Nancy
Ser Oreson Buckle
The Cliffs, Brindelle

Ser Oreson chimed in sadly, "And on Hogcock Eve, no less..." 

The great knight got down ponderously onto one knee and placed the boy's dirty cheek in his soft hand. 

"Shall no one fetch this poor boy a drink?" He said, in reference to himself.
Wallace
**Valentyne Drayton
The Cliffs (and the Mud!), Brindelle**

Valentyne, thankfully, came to rather quickly. After a few moments of laying in the rain and mud, having been pulled out the rest of the way by his seniors, the squire sat up on his own volition, getting into a kneeling position. After a slight groan, Valentyne vomited up what was probably a bunch of mud. He then lightly smacked the side of his head a few times, rubbed his eyes, and looked around at everyone, noticing now that he was still alive. He didn't seem to remember the yelling about Hogcock that he'd been on about a minute or two ago.

Valentyne then politely inquired, "I presume I got out successfully, then? Or do I have to do this all over again?"