In hot pursuit behind Nuria comes Riset, managing to roll off of his shell into the hay with slightly less fanfare than the obviously crazy Godlike.  He lies there for a moment, just looking up at the sky with one hand down to his crotch, rubbing a bit where he was just bit.  "I feel like that shouldn't be allowed," he mutters to himself just as the elvish gentleman pulls up next to him, stepping gracefully off of his shell and turning with immediacy to return to the tavern.  After all, it wouldn't be dignified to remain down here given that he didn't even place.<br/><br/>The gnome comes up next, spinning and rolling, just barely able to stand up before taking a couple of dizzy steps and then collapsing down into the hay and mud.  The little halfling up the hill gives a start and begins running to try to find a way around the track to get him on his feet.<br/><br/>Stuck about halfway down the hill still is the draconian, puffing smoke out of his nose in irritation as he slowly, push by laborious push, continues to shovel his way down the hill.  It is very, very slow going.<br/><br/>The announcer, having been knocked flat on his ass into the mud, pushes himself partially to his feet, unsteadily holding onto the arms of Nuria and Phelypsis in order to manage himself.  He searches for a moment for his lost megaphone and then cups his hands to shout out.<br/><br/>"The wiiinners of our sheeell raaaace are... In third... Riseeeeeet Watchful protector of our steets!"  A faint applause.  "In second... Nuuuuriiiiaaaa of the Delveeeeers Coooompaanny!" A much louder applause, with a fair amount of whistling appreciation.  "And in first... Pheeeeelypsiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis!"  The crowd goes wild for the still exposed and now quite muddy demon.