501-11-13 Tourney Interrupted
From Crossroads Wiki
November 13, 501
It's a knight's tourney! Many gather to watch His Majesty's Imperial Knights compete on the floor of the coliseum. However, an unwelcome guest 'mysteriously' shows up!
Do take warning, this log is in the perspective of the Empress, who was ushered out of harm's way before the fight with the beastie was over. If you have the rest of this log, let admin know so we can add it!
Aileana arrives alone this evening, a small cloak pulled around her shoulders as she comes up the stairs to scan for a place to sit. She does curtsey towards the Royals, her smile for them small.
Mena and Rourke sit in the Imperial box, both of them chatting to each other and looking around. As Mena sees the arrival of Aileana, she smiles back and waves.
Aileana walks to the stands, pausing at one of the merchant's booths to purchase a skewer of beef before she approaches the Duke of Draught, "Seat near you taken? We could make a nice scandal by sitting near each other, couldn't we?"
Duchess Asha makes her way up into the stands, a touch of amusement in her expression as she does. These aren't her usual seats, after all!
Duke Rhyse chuckles. "Not at all, Your Grace - please, do take it and let tongues wag as they may," Rhyse offers.
Dominic comes rushing up the stairs at the call of the heralds, "HEY! FIVE MINUTES!!! IT'S GONNA START IN FIVE MINUTES!!" It appears the kid is excited though most of that excitement is stolen by the sights and smells of /food/! "HEY! FOOD!"
Aileana is so close to sitting when she hears the war chant of the demon child and for a moment she just pauses and looks over to Dominic, her lips going into a nervous smile, "Are all boys so...energetic? I'm shaped like a pumpkin, so...I think we're going to have one."
Duke Rhyse chuckles. "Not all of them, no. Have you met my heir, Dorian?" he asks, looking over at Dominic with a grin. "Dominic, do you have pocket money? Come get some if you don't, and sit down front where you can see everything." That will put him well away from the Duchess Aileana.
Shalanaia makes her way into the stands, sweeping a graceful curtsey to the Emperor and Empress, and then to the assembled nobles before moving to take a seat.
Mena waves here and there, smiling to people as she greets them from where she sits next to the Emperor in the Imperial box.
Dominic comes rushing for his Father, his good hand stretched out like a hungry beggar because..he is one! "I'll get some now! I'm /starving/! Hey, they have more beef!"
Duke Rhyse chuckles and deposits enough coins in his son's hand to keep the boy busy for the entire tournament. "Be good, Dominic."
"I suppose I haven't." Aileana replies as she watches the kid while taking her seat. Her own attention turns down to her skewer of meat and she starts to nibble at it.
Duke Rhyse mutters to Duchess Aileana, "... sure Dorian will restore your..."
Dominic takes the coin and dashes off through the stands, nearly smacking into at least one person on his trample towards sausages! "I really want the biggest sausage ever! My Dad gave me money so I can get a really big big big one!"
Duchess Asha goes to find a seat in the front herself, searching out a knot of legionnaires on leave to join them with quick grins and slaps on the back, as well as no small amount of jesting and betting over the outcome of the tournament.
Carrying a padded cushion Elphin climbs up to the Observation stands, a bow is first given to the Imperials, a sweeping bow to the other nobility present. Making his way to the merchants booths he walks surveying what each is offering, exhanging plesantries with those he knows. After purchasing a mulled wine he makes his way to the top tiers of the stands.
Aileana smiles to Rhyse, "Is he a quieter one? Perhaps the extroverted types always overrun the more quiet ones." She takes another nibble of her beef.
Emperor Rourke settles back, his gaze turned on the field. He's been watching the practice and sparring all afternoon.
"He is quieter, and quite serious as well," Rhyse says. "He'll make a fine Duke some day."
Shalanaia smiles at hearing the Duke's from nearby and offers , 'That he will, Your Grace, he's a fine young man, and quite the gallant.'
"Does that make a good Duke?" Aileana questions quietly as she pauses in her eating to look over to Shalanaia, "Hello, Lady Butterfly Fields. How are you?"
Duke Rhyse inclines his head to Shalanaia in thanks for the praise of his son. "He has other sterling qualities as well, of course. But I am a proud parent - I will let you judge for yourself when you meet him."
Shalanaia says, "Hello Your Grace, I am well, thank you, and you? she says smiling at Duchess Aileana. To Duke Rhyse she intones, 'You have fine sons, Your Grace, every reason to be proud."
Dominic gets his sausage and calls out to the merchant loud enough that anyone near him can hear, "Hey thanks! I love really big sausages! I like beef too! I ate a whole bunch of beef last night a whole whole whole bunch. Sausages can make you fart sometimes, but not beef as much." And then his wild attention flicks down the stands and calls out, "Hey! Turkey legs too!"
Mena leans over to say something to Rourke, looking across the field as she does so.
Emperor Rourke slips an arm around Mena's shoulder, his lips moving near her ear as his gaze moves over those who have gathered for the tournament.
From the field, Trumpets sound as the Knights of the Empire - at least, those who were selected to participate in the tourney - begin to file out of the Champion Preparation Room along with their Squires, to make obesiance to the Emperor in a ritual that has started Tournaments for centuries.
Aileana just nods as she eats her food quietly, her gaze going to the field as there is an increase in activity.
From the field, Brandon strides out to the field and moves to the center wherein he may bow to the Emperor and his family. Hew then turns to the Green Fields contingent and smiles and nods to his home isle.
Emperor Rourke's attention turns from wife to the field of knights as they enter, his gaze moving over each onein turn.
The Empress sits up in her seat more as the trumpets sound and the knights start to make their entrance. She smiles in an excited manner, this being her first tourney. It's all very exciting.
Duchess Asha straightens from joking with the legionnaires to watch the Knights as they process in. There's still murmuring from the Guardian contingent, gossip and bet-making now that the knights can be seen.
At the top tier, Elphin banters to the men on either side of him. With the trumpets sound attention is turned to the spectacle.
Shalanaia lapses into quiet, her gaze fixed on the field.
Emperor Rourke tips his head back, attending the legionaire discussions from his own position.
Dominic munches on his sausage as his attention goes to the field, eyes wide and excited, "I hope someone gets knocked off and bleeds alot!"
From the field, Caspian follows after Brandon with a long sword on his belt, a shield, and other various battle weaponry strapped to him here and there. He looks around the large collesium with an evasive smile that disappears as he too bows to the Imperial family, following Brandon again afterward.
Rourke's attention does linger on each knight as they take the field. Rising, Rourke curls his hands around the rail, his voice lifting, "Greetings, Imperial Knights! Today, you each ride for the honor of the place of First and Best! Ride well and bring me the honor this day that you bring the empire every day."
Mena's hand comes up to her mouth, coughing slightly for a moment, her eyes on Rourke's back.
Rourke glances at his wife then adds loudly, "Providence bless and ride with you!"
From the field, A cheer breaks out from the crowded stands, as people applaud and call out Providence's blessing on the Knights who will joust this evening.
From the field, Brandon raises his fist and shouts out, "PROVIDENCE KEEP THE KEEPER!!!!
Emperor Rourke waves to those in the stands and on the fields then claims his chair to watch the tourney unfold, eyes bright with anticipation.
Asha rarely gets a chance to watch a tournament from the stands, and though she seems excited to see it, there's also a wistful cast to her features as she watches the Knights down below.
From the field, One of the Knights who is not competing calls out in a booming voice, "By the Grace of Providence and with the blessing of the Keeper, I declare this tournament open! First to Joust will be Sir Brandon Vinland, against Sir David Pines! Knights, take the field!"
Shalanaia watches, her eyes glittering with anticipation as the tourney begins.
From the field, Being the quiet one of the knights he simply bows to the Imperial Box and then to all in the stands as he moves away to allow the tournament to begin, he gves Brandon and respectful nod of his head.
From the field, Brandon snaps to his squire and he crosses to shake hands with Sir David, "Providence be with you, friend." The Green Field knight moves to his horse to mount up.
From the field, Michael makes his way onto the field though remains on the sidelines, the retired Knight not interested in participating, but his long years of service having earned him the honor of remaining by his brother Knights to watch the joust as it happens.
Aileana finishes her skewer and just watches the tournament start to unfold, or let's be honest here....watch the muscled men do muscled men sort of things.
From the field, Linette, female squire extraordinaire, follows along similarly to Caspian; her stride easy but poised, and steps trailing along behind her knight, Sir Sigurd. Pausing before the Imperial family, she gives a low, humble bow, the action repeated toward the supportive crowd, before she echos: "Providence keep the Keeper!" and then moves to retreat to the side of the arena, allowing the jousting knights the field.
Betting starts at the top tiers, accompanied by much good natured bantering. As the first two knights take the field the betting is called to a end for the first match.
From the field, "Horraaah!" Caspian joins in the cheering, as he finds it very hard not to and has no real want to keep himself out of it! Grinning after, he looks to Brandon as his name is called and wastes no time in moving away to ready the man's lance.
From the field, Trailing along among the knights is Ranulf. He is dressed and equipped appropriately for what may come. Despite the festival atmosphere, he looks subdued and intent upon the competition. Asl the first participants are called, he takes his place to observe.
Rourke sits back, propping one booted foot against the rail, each of the knights that enters the field receiving his undivided attention... as each one could be his next First Knight.
Dominic eats and watches, eats and watches and eats a bit more until he rushes up to his Father, "Hey, Dad! I think maybe I should get just a little bit more money in case I run out of the first money."
From the field, Sir David shakes hands with Brandon and then, with the assistance of Linette, mounts his horse and trots down to the other end of the field. He pulls the visor of his helmet down over his face and lifts one hand in salute towards his opponent. He then looks for Linette, awaiting the lance she should have ready for him by now.
"I think I gave you plenty of money, Dominic," Rhyse responds, his eyes scanning the field below with interest. The selection of a new First Knight, though not his responsibility, is definitely of interest to him.
From the field, Though he isn't the girl's knight, it seems Linette is being kept busy. After aiding Sir David up, the squire is at the ready to hand over his lance, an encouraging: "Good luck!" given, before she steps back, awaiting the run to begin.
From the field, Brandon gets upon his steed and reaches down to Caspian, who hands him a bottle. He takes a long swig of it, the tale tell signs of Mothers Milk upon his lips. He smiles to his liquid courage. He hands the bottle back to his squire and lowers the visor on his helm. He takes the lance from his faithful squire and spurs his horse into position.
Brandon and his opponent make their first pass. Dirt is thrown up as the horses race towards one another. Lances are aimed at each other. Providence smiles on each of them as they somehow *barely miss one another. The crowd makes note of their disappointment, some even boo loudly. Brandon can be heard cursing, even through the armour.
The two knights moves back into position and take their second pass. This time, Brand's lance makes contact, but barely. It hits the other knight's shield and the sound of wood upon metal rings out. The crowd cheers! That's a point for the cocky Green Field knight.
They prep again and make their final pass. All eyes are on them as they speed towards one another. At the last second, Brandon adjusts his lance and it hits home, dead center of his opponent's chest. For a moment, the other knight is airborne as he is lifted from his saddle, then gravity takes effect and he plummets to the ground. A total dismount! Brandon wins. The crowd goes wild!!! He pulls on the reins and brings the horse to a halt. He dismounts and pulls off his helm, shaking the sweat from his hair. He yells loudly, raising his fist in the air, encouraging the crowd to even greater cheers.
The Green Fields knight moves over, ever the good sport, and helps his opponent up, making sure, along with the squires, that he's not too badly injured. Complimenting him on a job well done, even though he lost and helps him from the field, an arm around his shoulder.
Mena leans forward in her seat as the first two knights get ready to joust, looking between the two armored men. And the horses they ride on.
Aileana looks to the boy as he rushes back to his Father's side and then her attention goes back to the field wiht interest in Brandon's jousting. She does clap, even chuckling for the Green Fields knight. Nothing seems to remove the invisible weight that brings tension to her shoulders, but she seems to be trying to enjoy herself.
Duke Rhyse calls out a loud HUZZAH! as the winner is declared, applauding loudly for Sir Brandon.
Emperor Rourke lifts his hands, applauding the first pass, and the second as a full dismount and score is taken. His eyes do follow Brandon as he aids his fellow from the earth.
Asha doesn't look particularly impressed by the win. In fact, the better part of the Guardian section makes a few rude catcalls and the like, which the duchess pretends not to hear, lips twitching.
Mena grins and applauds for Sir Brandon as well, looking quite pleased at the outcome.
Dominic is silent for a moment as he watches the joust and then after the first round, he looks to the Duchess, "Hey! Ya want me ta run'n get food for ya? I'll just keep a tiny bit of the change, and if you don't go get it, you can get more fat! You're not as fat as my Mom though."
From the field, Caspian watches on like a nervous mother hen as the joust begins. He cursed at the miss, cheered at the first point in Brandons favor, and celebrates Brandon's victory. Alright Brandon. "Yeeeah!!" He shakes a fist happily before running out to take the lance and his horse's reins as Brandon helps the defeated Sir David. He leads the horse away to make room for the next jousters, grinning as if it was /he/ that just won this first round.
Emperor Rourke tips his chair back, motioning to Asha to come closer.
From the field, As Sir David is escorted from the field, the Knight serving as Master of Ceremonies this evening ascends his little soapbox - it makes it easier for all the women to see him! - and calls out loudly, "Winner of the first round - Sir Brandon Vinland, with a dismount by Sir Vinland!" He adds his applause to that of the crowd, and then calls out, "Next to joust will be Sir Valairre Arindore, against Sir Jeremy Spencer! Knights - take the field!"
Aileana just looks over to the boy and then his Father, one hand going almost protectively to her stomach, a smile forced as she replies, "At least someone has me beat, hmm?"
From the top tiers, groans from those who lost the bets , louds cheers from those who won. Men and women stand to stretch and call out to other citizens within the stands. More than one call is to the merchants for ale, mulled wine and foods.
Rourke continues to applaud Sir Brandon as he departs the field, having taken the win.
"Dominic!" Rhyse exclaims, frowning at the boy. "Mind your manners and apologize to the Duchess. She is not /fat/, she is with child - and if you don't yet know the difference I will make sure you have a LONG talk with your mother so that she can explain it to you!"
From the field, Watching the interactions with rapt attention, Linette's head swivels back and forth to watch the joust, the occassional heavy breath or gasp of anticipation given when they near each other. Applauding at the conclusion, and then hurrying over to help Sir David off the field, the squire offers a: "Good show!" to Brandon, before helping the man up and off to the side, and then turning about to begin to her next duty.
It isn't until a few of the legionnaires give Asha some shoves at her shoulder that she realizes the Emperor is motioning to her, looking just a little bit sheepish as she pushes up out of her place to approach. "Your majesty," she bows, coming up with as innocent a grin as she can manage.
Rourke tips his head back, his voice lowered as he murmurs in Asha's ear.
From the field, Brandon looks around and smiles at various ladies in the stands. He shakes the sweat from his hair again, looking every bit as rakish and sexy as one might expect from the bad boy knight. He moves off to the side to rest until the next round.
Asha shrugs one shoulder at the murmured words, lowering her voice to reply as she watches the field.
From the field, After securing Brandon's steed, Caspian hurries to take hold of the next knight's lance and horse. Sir Spencer's horse is steadied and the lance held at the ready to give to him once he's mounted.
Emperor Rourke's gaze shifts to the knight leaving the field and he chuckles, murmuring to his Duchess.
From the field, Sir Jeremy Spencer is already astride his horse, having watched the last round mounted, and gives a rakish grin and a wave to the crowd before pulling down his visor and approaching the starting position. He nods down to Squire Caspian, reaching out for the lance the Squire offers.
Asha twists a faint smile, shrugging one shoulder again as she whispers.
From the field, Valairre sits astride his white charger facing off against Sir Spencer, each gives a salute. Once the signal is given the horses rear a bit and then leap towards each other. The lances held at the ready. The distance closes as the horses bring the Knights closer until lances hit upon shields and the riders pass by one another still astride those noble steeds but now with broken lances in gauntleted hands.
Round two has the opponets at each end of the jousting field. Spurs hit barding once more and they gallop at each other the lances once again meeting the shields, Sir Spencer losing his lance.
The third time around, horses again head for each other as the riders hold those long poles down at each other. When the dust settles after the loud bang, Sir Densmore has been unhorsed and Valairre trots away victorious, saluting the crowd before riding over to help his fallen fellow knight.
Mena chuckles a bit as she watches the field, looking momentarily amused before she focuses upon the next matchup.
From the field, While Caspian aids Sir Spencer, Linette does the same with Sir Valairre. "Good luck, Sir," she offers to him, securely holding the reigns of his mount, and, at the man's ready, she offers up his lance. Off he goes! When the round has finished, she gives both knights an applaud and cheer, and then goes forth to aid the fallen knight if needbe.
From the field, Brandon cheers for Sir Valairre as he sits and rests. He raises his bottle to the sky with a hoot and a holler!
From the field, Ranulf's gloved hands pound together in light applause after the latest round, somewhat impressed by the displays so far.
Emperor Rourke chcukles, dragging a chair up to his side and motioning Asha to join him. His gaze does linger on the field as Sir Valairre rides to the joust.
The Empress joins in the applause for Valairre's win, watching everything with much interest.
Dominic just looks between the Duchess and his Father and his nose wrinkles a bit, his attention stolen by the next round of jousting before he answers, "Does that mean you think you're a child cause she's with you?"
From the top tiers, groans from those who lost the bets , louds cheers from those who won.
"Yes Valairre! My money was on you!"
Elphin laughs and collects his winnings.
Rourke releases a piercing whistle through his teeth, applauding the victory of Sir Valairre against Sir Jeremy.
Shalanaia stifles a laugh, covering her mouth with her hand, her glance taking in the boys face.
From the field, Caspian watches on this go around as closely as the first, moving quickly to give Sir Spencer his replacement lance when the first broke and he lost the second, ready with the third and last if needed. But, once the dust clears as Valairre is deemed the winner, he replaces the third and applauds both knights before heading on to the field and helping Spencer with his steed.
Asha turns to gesture down towards the legion men in the front, grinning at their brief call of teasing protest before dropping down into the seat pulled up. "Now that's a proper round," she approves with a nod towards Valairre's chivalry.
From the field, Brandon smirks as he takes a hit off his bottle, "No losers on my round, everyone already knew *I'd* win." He laughs to himself as he watches.
Rourke smiles, "I assume you favor Sir Valairre?"
From the field, Valairre dismounts from his steed and gives a wave to the crowd when he bows and then actually gets his horse to do the same thing. He moves aside for the next riders and stands near Brandon for now, his horse being tended to.
"I am the Mogur Imperius." This announcement is made in a satisfied fashion to the girl beside him. Glyph and the Mogur enter the stands together.
Asha makes a face as Brandon's boasting floats up to the stands. "Over that one, I do. The men favor Sir Sigurd," she adds with a gesture towards the field. "And Sir Ranulf isn't a poor sort."
From the field, Once again the Master of Ceremonies steps up on his soapbox, applauding loudly before calling out, "And the win to Sir Valairre, with another dismounting! Well done, Sir Valairre!" He applauds for a moment more, and then calls out, "The next round will be Sir Sigurd, against Sir Madier ... Knights, take the field!"
Shalanaia claps merrily for Knightand horse.
"Oh, Sir Brandon isn't bad," Mena says with a laugh. "He's just having fun and enjoying himself. There's nothing wrong with that."
From the field, When Sir Sigurd comes back out onto the field of the Coliseum he bears his usual sober appearance, and doesn't ride towards the stands to collect favors or play to the crowds. Instead, he quietly walks his horse out by the reins and speaks to the Squires who tend to him. The horse that walks beside him is a mighty looking warhorse indeed, and to those who know Sir Sigurd, the horse is known as Sir Winston, and as 'Sir Winston' is walked out onto the floor of the coliseum he seems like he belongs more than the Knight who draws him, so proud, so mighty. Between man and horse, there is an unspoken bond and when Sigurd mounts the horse, raising his shield up from his side, for the word to start is being given between the opposing Knights. At one end of the field, the large Sir Sigurd, whose parentage has recently been called into question, and on the other, Sir Madier.
From the field, Brandon laughs at Valairre and his horse, "Cheeky!" he comments as the other knight draws near. The bottle is offered to the serious knight.
At the top tiers, Elphin sits surrounded by other citizens, bets are being collected. Merchants bring food and drink.
Emperor Rourke says, "I agree... he does seem to enjoy himself."
Aileana just stares at the boy and then his Father before shaking her head in some type of amusement that fades at the sound of the Mogur's voice. She inclines her head to him and then spots Phaeton. She smiles and gestures him over.
"You want a Knight who does his job, not one who's too hung over in the morning to hear the sirens in the castle," Asha drawls, though her attention seems to be on the current match now.
Glyph enters side by side with Mogur. Phaeton on the other side! She doesn't appear very surprised or startled by the annoucement. The first remark out of her mouth is, "Aren't you bit too young and handsome?" Her eyes do scruntizes the man next to her. "Pleasure to finally meet you, Mogur, my parents told me alot about you. I see what they say are true."
Emperor Rourke hums, "Ahhh, Duchess... you are so critical. I think Sir Brandon can handle a few swallows of liquor... proven by the ride and his win." The Keeper notes the arrival of Mogur with a nod and a wave for him to join the box if he likes.
"Sir Brandon is an asset to the Knighthood, Your Grace," Mena says, taking her gaze away from the tourney to look at Asha. "And there is no doubt that he would willingly lay down his life for this land and her people as quickly as any of your men, no matter how he feels physically."
From the field, Linette is there to aid Sigurd, her knight, and while there was genuine enthusiasm before, there is even more pride as she reaches up and offers the man his lance. "Here you are, Sir," she offers, waiting until the lance is accepted to take a step back and look him over. Seeing everything is secure, she adds an expected: "Good luck!" and backs away, clasping and then clapping her hands eagerly.
From the field, Caspian lifts up a lance, though upon hearing the name of the next knights, chooses another to take to Sir Madier. "Luck to you," he says as he lifts up the weapon to him, eyeing Sir Sigurd across the way. He soon steps back to clear the way, already getting another lance at the ready.
From the field, Sir Madier takes the opposite end of the field, with Squire Caspian to assist him as he mounts his horse, and readies his lance. He salutes his opponent, reaching down to accept the lance that Caspian offers him, nodding at the boy before setting heels to his horse's flanks and taking off at a charge down the field as the signal is sounded. The thunderous roar of his horses' hooves fill his ears, and he lets out a loud battlecry as he aims his lance.
Phaeton smiles at his sister-in-law as he moves to take a seat next to her, "How are they doing to do? Our Champions faring well, I hope! I'm not sure who to root for, Brandon or Phaedrus."
Next match called out, once again bets are called out. This time Madier seems to be the favorite.
From the field, As his lance is then handed up to him, Sir Sigurd offers a final nod to his Squires, says something to them and indicates with a move of his head that he approves. Turning his horse with expert precision then, Sigurd stares across the field and offers a similar nod of the head to his opponent and then reaches up to flip his visor closed, adding in a little movement of his neck to get the visor to snap shut all the easier.
A final word goes past the respective Knights then, and both are prepared to go. A deep breath is taken in, both by the competitors then, and by the collective known as the audience. And with sudden ferocity, the two Knights rush towards each other, their lances coming down from their sides as they pass the half-way point to each other, and on the first pass, Sir Sigurd shatters his lance upon Sir Madier, and receives a hit to the shield in exchange.
Coming around the end of the lists, they ride past each other again and return to their Squires. A trade comes again, and Sir Sigurd turns back towards his opponent. A new lance now in hand. And the two come at each other again, but on this pass, Sir Madier is removed from his saddle with the ferocity of the blow.
From the field, Valairre shakes his head at the offered bottle, "Don't drink, but thanks." he then removes his gauntlets so that he can clap his hands for Sigurd.
Asha shrugs, leaning back in her chair. "Your majesties may like him. I don't. Too easily distracted and too focused on himself." And then she quiets, watching this round with a much more approving cast to her features.
Aileana is sitting next to Rhyse and his boisterous son, "Oh, the muscles are great. How are you?"
Asha whistles sharply in approval of Sigurd's round, clapping and flashing a swift grin before settling back again.
Rourke grins as Sigurd makes his two passes, applauding the blow that sends Madier flying from his mount to the earth.
The Mogur smiles his feral smile of perfect teeth at Glyph. "I have been called many things of late, Mage Glyph, but young and handsome are rarely on the list." His hand continues to tap the bejeweled silver wand against his thigh. It glitters in the day's fierce light. "The support of your parents has been appreciated. They are wise to know where to lay their odds." He looks over the stands and bows towards the Emperor and the Emperor alone. He walks towards the Imperial box.
Mena applauds for Sir Sigurd along with the rest of the crowd.
Emperor Rourke chuckles, murmurming to his lady and the Duchess, "Ohhhh... he is fun to be around though... and he don't walk funny."
The Empress then looks back to Asha. "Perhaps you are only seeing what you wish to see, Your Grace."
From the field, "A third unhorsing!" The Master of Ceremonies calls out, as he ascends to his soapbox once again. "Your Majesties ... nobles and citizens of the Empire, I submit that you are truly witnessing skill at its finest as His Majesty's Knights vie against each other for this most coveted prize! Taking the win, Sir Sigurd!" He applauds, his large hands making booming, thunderous sounds, before calling out, "The final match of the first round will be against Sir Ranulf Fitshoom and Sir Renny Foclare!"
From the field, Brandon cheers on Sir Sigurd as he wins. "DAMN GOOD JOB OLD MAN!" He pauses, "OLD MAN, SIR!" he adds.
From the field, Caspian winces at the hit that Madier takes and kneels a little as he watches the next go. Crash! Off goes Madier. "Damn," curses the squire beneath his breath, apparently diappointed at the outcome. Standing now, he tends to the fallen knight. "Good go anyway," he offers with a grin as he helps him to his feet, takes the fallen lance, and guides the horse away.
Lady Shalanaia applauds the round with enthusiasm.
From the field, Clapping maddly, and then restraining herself, Linette hurries over to Sigurd and flashes him a broad smile. "Well done!" she tells him, working with the other squires in taking his lance and securing his horse for the dismount.
Phaeton laughs as he shakes his head at Aileana, "One track mind! But I'm glad they're fairing well, I wish I'd been here sooner." He chuckles, leaning back, "I'm alright, Alley! You?"
From the field, Even Sir Sigurd isn't beyond a small amount of enjoyment and turns slightly in the saddle as he clears the field to offer a wave towards the stands, raising the visor on his helmet with the movement. Dismounting, he hands the reins of his horse over towards Linette and says, "Thank you," in a low tone to the squire as he moves back to continue preparing for the next round.
"Unfortunately, I see very little of what I want to see," Asha replies to Rourke, though the comment about not walking funny does bring a brief twitch of her lips, almost a smile.
From the field, Caspian readies the lance and horse for Sir Ranulf as he hears his name called.
Rourke glances at his wife then to Asha. He clucks his tongue, "I do think you might be a wee bit prejudice toward your home knights?"
From the field, Sir Renny is the eldest Knight to compete this eve, though still in excellent shape, at forty and two years old. He mounts his horse with no difficulty, reaching down towards Linette to accept his helm from the Squire and give her a few short words, no doubt thanks for her efforts to prepare him for his round.
Aileana just gives a small shrug, "Rather miserable, but I'm glad you are great."
Mena's attention just turns back to the tourney, watching the next round commence.
From the field, Busy is the life of a squire, so it's not long before Linette is helping with the next round of knights. Offering up Sir Renny's helm, she awaits the man to be properly loaded up with his lance, before backing away; the glow of the past win still bright on her expression. His words are met with a humble salute, her smile broad even as she waits for the joust to begin.
Glyph dips to all the nobelity here. Her mismatched gaze flickers at surprise when the man calls her name, before shaking her head. "I should have known...parents." She sighs quietly with a shake of her hair that sends her golden curls licking and flowing about her. About the remark on her parents, she comments, "And I now I see why they did, Mogur. I look forward towards future meetings.I have already two questions burning to ask." She winks at the man, flashing a bright and brillant smile to the man, noticing he's being called over by the Emperor. When he starts to walk that way, Glyph starts to part another way unless stopped.
Dominic doesn't get his question answered, so his attention is soon off on another food run, "I'm gonna have one of those turkey legs next! I like turkey legs!"
Asha laughs, shaking her head with a wry smile as she watches the round. "I'm prejudiced towards Knights whose egos are roughly proportional to their skill and their place. Your Sir Brandon rubs me quite the wrong way, in every way. But I suppose," she adds, looking up towards the Mogur's arrival with an even more amused smile, "If it ever comes to defending the castle and the Empire, councils between me, Sir Brandon, and the Mogur would certainly be entertaining."
From the field, Ranulf climbs onto his horse and takes the lance from Caspian. With a nod, he closes the visor and then at the signal, he spurs his horse. The great beasts gather speed slowly but steadily. The first clash has the two knights hunkered down, their lances held tight and close. Each presents a small target and each breaks a lance in the split second pass.
Bringing his mount around and quickly taking up a fresh weapon from a squire, Ranulf shakes away some cobwebs from the first strike and spurs his mount. The beast responds and takes off down the field again. The other knight this time takes a chance, extending his lance out away from his body, relying on arm-strength alone... Ranulf holds steady and bears down and Sir Renny's lance is pushed away and goes flying.
Smiling inside his great helm, Ranulf knows his course of action. Taking up a third lance, he again turns and spurs his mount. The beast is tired and agitated and gallops once more. Ranulf uses his own arm to hold out his lance to gain that precious inch in order to unseat his opponent before his opponent's lance strikes home.
CRACK! Foclare takes the hit right in the middle and is pushed back over the end of his horse.
The Mogur Imperius pauses. "You are travelling upon this trip to the Barrier, Mage Glyph. Is this not so? I, too, will be sailing. It will only be as far as the borders of this Empire, but it will afford us time to speak. Until then, Daughter of Mists." He continues again toward the Imperial box and slips into it. "Emperor. Empress. Duchess."
From the field, Valairre claps happily for yet another knight being victorious.
Mena applauds the next win, then does look over to Mogur, smiling a bit as she nods. "Good afternoon, Mogur."
From the field, And with the end of the fourth pass of the first round, the Master of Ceremonies steps up to his box. Again. His applause and cheering joinst he crowds' for a moment, before he announces, "Another fine pass, with the win going to Sir Ranulf, as Sir Foclare is dehorsed! Your Majesties, nobles, and citizens, there will be a very brief intermission while our Knights refresh themselves with drink for the next round! Would the winners of the first round - Sir Brandon, Sir Valairre, Sir Sigurd, and Sir Ranulf please report to the Preparation Room!"
Emperor Rourke's attention is on Ranulf now and he does lean forward, the experienced knight truly drawing his eyes. He winces at the loud CRACK! He then grins, "Did you see that? Wonderful hit!" And then he looks to Asha and for the first time, down her form and noting the .... DRESS?
Feeling the press of the crowd, Lady Shalanaia rises, sketches a curtsey and wanders off toward the wine seller.
"See you on the ship, Mogur." Glyph raises a hand up to the man, before she parts. She takes one glancing look, before heading over to Elphin. She smiles brightly to the man, "Is there space?" She asks, waving a hand near him.
Rourke applauds the strike made by Sir Ranulf, pleased at the presence of one of his older knights!
From the field, Caspian brings Ranulf's second lance quickly while making quick work of clearning the bulk of the shattered debris. The rest of the match is watched tensely until he's needed again, and in the end, when the other knight is offed his horse, he cheers for Ranulf and applauds while taking the field to tend to him before the intermission.
Asha whistles again for Ranulf's last pass, applauding.
From the field, Brandon shouts again, this time for Ranulf, raising that bottle in the air again. He looks to his squire, "Come on, Caspian! We got some stratagizin' to do!" He heads to the inner room.
Emperor Rourke says, "Join us, Mogur Imperius?"
From the field, Climbing down and handing off gear to a squire, Ranulf leaves his opponent to be picked up by attendants as he strides off towards the preparation room, his work in this first round compleated.
From the field, Valairre heads in that direction with Gauntlets and Helm in hand, he gives a wave and bow to the crowd as if theankign them for being there.
From the field, Helping the losing knight to his feet, and then walking him over to the sideline, Linette then turns at a brisk pace to hurry toward the preparation room and check in with her knight.
Phaeton slips closer to Aileana and slides an arm over her shoulders, giving her a hug, "Cheer up, Alley. There's Knights being all physical for your entertainment."
Asha arches a brow over at Rourke when he notices the dress, smile curving at one corner of her lips. "What?" she mouths before looking back out towards the field, leaning back and crossing her legs comfortably.
The Mogur nods to the Empress' greeting. "Of course, Emperor." He smiles toothily at Asha as he sits.
Emperor Rourke wags his brows at the Duchess, "Just enjoying another kind of view..." He then looks to Mogur Imperius, "Welcome back. I do hope you had a productive trip?"
Aileana shakes her head at Phaeton's words, "When I feel better, I will cheer up. It's that simple, really. The view is nice though. It really is." She does lean against the Baron has he wraps his arm around her, her gaze lingering on the Field.
"Mogur," Asha greets with a faint smirk, dipping her chin to the mage before leaning forward to talk to Mena across Rourke. "Empress, there's something his majesty wanted me to speak with you about, if you remember after this," she says with a swift grin that utterly fails at being innocent.
Shalanaia finds a seat in a less crowded area of the stands and sits down. Her gaze fixed absently on the now quiet field.
Mena does look over at Asha curiously. She looks at Rourke for a moment before returning to the Duchess. "You're not plotting against me or anything, are you?"
Phaeton nods softly and smiles, hugging her close, "True enough. Things'll improve, dear sister, worry not."
"I picked up something interesting upon my trip, Emperor, that I hope to show to you later." The Mogur Imperius looks to the field and pats his mouth as he covers a yawn. "How go the sticks and the banging? Is there much left?"
Dominic spots Shalanaia and trots over to her, "Hey! Ya want me to go run and get some food for ya? I'll just charge ya a little bit to run'n do it."
Shalanaia chuckles softly, 'My lord, I would love that..but Only if you Father says you may.'
Rourke hides a smile at Mogur's question, "Enjoyable as banging usually is, Mogur." He coughs into his hand, meeting the Mogur's gaze briefly, "I'm sure whatever you brought back I will enjoy seeing."
Duke Rhyse nods his head, though he looks amused. "Don't let him cheat you, milady, a few copper should be plenty for such an errand."
Asha grins at Mena, shaking her head. "His dignity, maybe," she allows with a thumb pointed towards Rourke before she leans back again, winking.
Shalanaia smiles, producing a handful of coin and hands them to Dominic saying, 'If there beef..I'd like that, be sure to get you some too.'
"We'll see." Aileana replies as she stays sheltered in the hold of Phaeton, "Baby seems to enjoy tournaments..he's moving." One hand stays on her stomach.
Mena smiles easily at Asha. "Oh. Then of /course/ I have time, Duchess. At your convenience."
Dominic grins to Shalanaia, "Okay!" He takes the coin and takes off running to find the beef.
The Mogur Imperius bows his head. "Certainly so, Emperor." He watches the knights with lazy disinterest. It's just staring off into space.
Rourke smirks, "Dignity... overrated. I'm taking a leaf our of your book, Duchess."
From the field, As the Knights file back out of the preparation room, the Master of Ceremonies calls out, "And here they come! A round of applause for the winners of the first round!"
"Surely your majesty wouldn't imply I'm undignified," Asha grins easily, though she lets the conversation lapse in favor of applause. The Mogur may not be interested, but this is her business!
Asha applauds boisterously for the return of the Knights, and a section of legionnaires on leave starts chanting for Sir Sigurd.
Shalanaia applauds the winners enthusiastically.
Ahem. Duke Rhyse starts to clap, lifting his voice to call out another loud HUZZAH!
Rourke joins in with the applause offered the field as the final round of knights reappear.
ELphin nudges the man next to him, "Move over!" Havok chuckles and nods "I need ale anyway." Havok, a fifty year old dockworker, motions to Glyph and the place he just vacated. Elphin grins and stands, "Of course Glyph." She may notice his place has a cushion from the book store, the place Havok left does not.
Mogur Imperius yawns again and looks about the observation stands.
From the field, The Master of Ceremonies confers with another Knight briefly, and then nods as he turns to address the crowd once again. "The Knights have drawn straws to select their opponents and a coin toss has determined the order of the second round. For the first passes, I present to you Sir Sigurd against Sir Valairre! Knights, take the field!"
From the field, As the second round of jousts comes around to Sir Valairre and Sir Sigurd, the two, now well familiar with the way of this particular competition take their respective places at either end of the field and, assisted by their Squires, are handed shields and lance. They share the usual friendly glance and nod across the field, as many Knights seem to share between each other before the coming battle, knowing full well between them that such events, while made to be safe, are based on the principle of driving a pole through another man's body, and so there is that inherent danger.
The nod seems to say, I accept my fate what it may be, show me your best, and I will show you mine.
Reaching out a hand towards his Squire, he waits yet again for a lance to be handed up to him even as his shield is handed up to the opposite hand.
Phaeton lightly rests a hand on the Duchess' stomach with a smile, "Probably eager to get out and explore the world. Runs in the family I'ma fraid."
Glyph laughs brightly. A beautiful, chiming laughter. "Oh, I'm sorry Havok! I didn't mean to displace you." She grins to the older man, before sliding down to take vacant seat. Yet, slyly, when Elphin stands up, she overscooted to sit her rump neatly in the cushioned seat that Elphin had. She grins up at him, "Thank you!"
From the field, And his squire is ready to hand the lance up to him. Linette, once freeing her hands of the large instrument, brings them together in a loud applause.
From the field, Caspian follows the knights out on to the field and soon takes up his place near Valairre, looking at Sigurd from across the way. Valairre, he nods and lifts up his lance for him, wishing him quiet luck.
From the field, Valairre redies himself utop his horse, the squire hands off the lance and shield, these are tested and held at the ready, his hand grips the reigns and the visor is put down as he faces the other rider, the lance is lowered into place.
"GO VALIRRE!" A females voice yells out for mid tier sitting.
From the field, The word goes around again, nods are given, a formality present there that is undefined. And finally after yet another of those breathless moments, they are off, coming at each other at their greatest speed, and as they near each other, their lances come down, held out towards each other and they lean up off their saddles ever so slightly to keep from being knocked clear of the saddle. For all the lack of formality, the exact precision and timing necessary to joust at this level is quite formidable.
And then, as anti-climactic as is imagineable there is no great exchange, one lance deflects off a shield, the other holds and strikes true, and with the raw ferocity of metal absorbing great force, a saddle is cleared..
Aileana chuckles as she looks down at the hand on her stomach, "It's a pumpkin. A boy if the wive's tales are correct." She pauses and then whispers, "Poor boy.."
From the field, Time seems to slow down and almost stop, the sounds of the hooves on the ground a mere thud, the heart beat loud in his ears until it stops at that instant his lance drops and the other one connects solidly. In slow motion Valairre feels the impact and is thrown from his horse to land with a hard crash on the unforgiving surface. Not injured but bruised in name and position he lays there staring up at the sky through his eye slits as he waits for help to get him to his feet. No glory for this knight, that honored position eluding him yet again.
The legion section breaks into a roaring cheer as Valairre is unhorsed, coming to their feet with their arms in the air as they pat each other on the backs. One round closer to winning bets!
Dominic gets some beef and stands near the merchant chowing down on it before he remembers eh's supposed to be bringing some back to Shalanaia. He then orders some more and brings it to the woman, "Here. I only ate like one piece of yours."
Asha's gaze flickers over towards the legionnaires when they rise, a smile touching her features and spreading broadly until she laughs. "Can't wait to see their expressions when they realize they're not making much for betting on a favorite," she chuckles, looking out towards the field again with more applause of her own.
The Mogur is unaffected by the battles and glory. He leans to speak softly to the Empress.
From the field, "INCREDIBLE!" The Master of Ceremonies calls out, bringing his hands together in thunderous applause. "I've never seen the like! Every single round thus far has ended in an unhorsing - such skill is worthy of the title Knight of the Empire! But who will be worthy of the title FIRST Knight - that is what we are here to discover! Congratulations to Sir Sigurd on his victory - he will continue on to the final round. And to discover his opponent, I call forth Sir Brandon and Sir Ranulf! Knights, take the field!"
Glyph glances up at the Mogur for a brief second, before looking to the fight below. She leans over to whisper something to Elphin quietly.
laughing softly, Shalanaia accepts the boys offering, then with a sly glance toward the Duke, she slips the boy a few more coins.' Thank you, this looks perfect"
From the field, "Damn it!" Caspian grits his teeth as Valairre is seen flying off his horse, but after the hissed cursed the squire hurries up to help him get to his feet. Armor is hard to manuever in! "Valiant attempt, nonetheless, sir," he offers as he pulls him up, though he's unable to linger by him too long as Brandon is next!
Rourke leans forward as the two knights clash, leaving only one still upon the back of his mount. A loud "HUZZAH!" is yelled toward the two knights on the field!
Elphin's attention is turned to the joust, with Valirre's unhorsing he hands over a lost wager to the man sitting on front of him. He sits leans to Glyph the clamor making conversation difficult.
From the field, Linette joins the cheering, though her enthusiasm dwindles some at seeing Valairre on his back. Turning back to her own knight, she reaches out to steady his horse, offering a: "Fine job, Sir!" and then seeking to lead Sir Winston off the field with the other squires.
From the field, Ranulf walks out steadily. A squire climbs up a small ladder and positions the helmet of the knight on his head and it is fastened down. Then a horse is brought around and Ranulf climbs up. Last of all, he takes a proffered lance and then he rides off to the end of the field to await his turn.
From the field, Valairre pulls back the visor as he is helped to his feet and nods to Caspian, "Thank you, see what you have to look forward to and avoid." he bows to the crowd and Sigurd and then walks off the field.
Emperor Rourke's attention shifts as Ranulf appears, the older knight gaining a warm look from the Emperor. Hey... the man is still out their hitting the lists! That's 'guts'.
Phaeton chuckles softly as he murmurs to Aileana and then stands to shout something.
From the field, Brandon gets upon his steed and wordlessly holds out his hand for the lucky bottle. He winks to his squire as it's handed over. He takes a long drag off of it and hands it back, "Take another drink for me Squire, that's an order. Just a small one though" He winks as he lowers his helm and exchanges the bottle for the lance. He spurs his horse into position. He gives a respectful nod to his experienced opponent. Which will triumph this day, youth and energy or age and experience?
From the field, Jogging back from the sidelines, this time leading a horse /on/ the field, as opposed to off, Linette hands over Ranulf's horse and waits until his lance is offered over, before offering a whistle for luck and watching him ride off.
Baron Phaeton's voice echoes out from the stands, "Good luck Bran!"
"Ride true, Sir Ranulf!" Asha calls out to the field with a broad grin, pumping a fist up.
Mena grins as she watches the next match line up.
From the field, Seeing Brandon in position, Ranulf gives his horse a good solid kick. Setting his lance firmly against his body, the knight rides off down the field towards his opponent, taking no chances with any clever angles.
From the field, "Luck Sir Vinland," says Caspian who takes the bottle and, after just a moment's hesitatin, does as ordered and takes a swallow for luck. He licks his lips and recaps the thing and steps back to give the knight room. How Brandon drinks this stuff and keeps on his horse is beyond him! And so, just for good measure.. "Luck!"
Glyph purses her full lips togather, and her brows knit forward. She sighs deeply at Elphin's words and look to her quietly. She nods her had, "Okay." She leans forward to rest her arms on her legs, watching the scene below. "And you don't have to look at me like that." She teaes Elphin, nudging him on the shoulder playfully.
From the field, Brandon gives a mighty cry as he spurs into his horse, "FOR THE KEEPER!" Brand shouts as he races forward, lowering his lance into position. Moments lengthen and slow as the two knights hurdle towards one another.
Providence smiles on youth this day as Brandons lance hits home and urges Sir Ranulf from his horse. The young knight cannot help but to cheer loudly through his helm as he succeeds on the first shot. He quickly reins in his horse and dismounts, moving over to his fallen comrade. He removes his helm, all can hear him give the other nothing but respect, "Allow me to help you up Sir Ranulf, you taught me well, and I thank you for this victory this day."
Emperor Rourke smirks at Asha, "Hear that?"
Mena does murmur in return to the Mogur as she watches the next match take place.
Phailin slips in a little late as she quickly finds a seat. Any higher ups that look her way would be granted a curtsey as she settles.
"Ah," Asha says something very un-Duchess-like, leaning back in her chair again when Ranulf is unhorsed. "I hear theatrics," she says back to Rourke, stubbornly unimpressed.
As Brandon takes the next win, the Empress cheers and applauds loudly, grinning widely at Duchess Guardian.
From the field, Ranulf cannot immediately respond. Having banged his head around inside his helmet, the knight is not quite able to put together a coherent thought quite yet.
From the field, One uninvited guest darkens the sky, as if a giant bird is winging towards the coliseum. It draws nearer with alarming speed. The size grows to proportions unaviary when distance is eliminated.
From the field, A healer rushes onto the field when Ranulf does not immediately respond, to make sure the Knight has not sustained too great an injury, and assist him in his recovery.
Rourke's surprise is evident but he quickly is on his feet, cheering Brandon's win though his gaze does move over Ranulf. "Don't be a bad loser, Duchess."
The Duchess Guardian doesn't look particularly pleased at the results of the match, leaning back in her chair again with a grimace.
From the field, Cheer! Caspian yells loudly as Brandon takes another victory, his grin broad and eyes dancing as he runs on to the field towards the knight, fist held high.
From the field, Brandon kneels and waits, "Get a healer, Caspian, just to be safe." There is concern in the younger knights voice.
Mogur Imperius stirs enough to tap the bejeweled silver wand against his thigh. "Bravo," he says in a bored voice.
Shalanaia applauds appreciatively.
"Rourke..." Asha's voice trails off as she straightens in her chair again, eyes on the sky.
Emperor Rourke's gaze shifts to the Duchess then follows her attention, eyes lifting to the sky and its winged occupant. "What the hell..."
Shalanaia's gaze flickers to the sky.
Aileana shakes her head and whispers to Phaeton, the two in silent conversation.
Mogur Imperius looks upwards to the sky. "Oh, how tragic. There appears to have been an accident." He still sounds bored, but not quite as much.
From the field, "Well done, Sir Brandon!" The Master of Ceremonies cries out, applauding loudly for the Knight's win. "A victory by Sir Brandon over Sir Ranulf .... who is being tended to by a healer even as I speak ..." The MC tries to see through the crowd of Squires on the field, to determine Ranulf's condition, when suddenly the approaching ...whatever that is draws his attention. "What the hell....?"
Mena looks over toward the Emperor, then up to the sky as well, eyes widening.
And Aileana's gaze does go up to the sky, "What is that?"
Phaeton looks up and frowns, groaning to himself, "Oh bloody Abyss, what >now<?"
From the field, Valairre comes alert but doesn't move onto the field as one doesn't move that fast in this armor, he trust the squires to help the knight and the healers to do so as well.
From the field, Ranulf rolls over as best he can and slowly gets to his knees and then his feet, waving away any aid. Then he starts to waddle off towards the preparation area to get that nasty helmet off. As yet, he has said nothing to any of his interlocutors. However, before he gets far, the shadow catches his addled attention.
From the field, "There," says Caspian, pointing to the healer who apparently is more observant than he during the festivities. He looks to Ranulf now though, brows slightly lifting and celebration subduing beneath concern. But it's the announcer's voice that catches his attention, and he blinks up at the stands, then sky... "...Brandon.."
"You took my cushion Glyph!" Elphin grumbles good naturedly as he nudges Glyph. The darkening sky brings his gaze upwards "Now what? Glyph you have any idea what thatg is ?"
From the field, A sharp screech pierces the air. It is joined by a lion's roar. Fire fills the air about the flying creature with a dragon's hiss. The creature is large. The creature dives toward the field with claws extended towards the Master of Ceremonies. Maybe it doesn't like the announcing.
From the field, Linette hurries forward to approach the fallen knight, dropping down to one knee and gently taking his arm. Seeing how unresponsive he is, the young squire asks, "Can you--" But before long a Healer is there to take care of the knight and, reluctantly, the young woman rises to her feet. Letting out a heavy sigh, and wiping the sweat from her brow, it's with a relieved stare that she casts a glance to the sky where a cloud seems to have crossed over the sun. But what's this? Narrowing her eyes on the airborn creature, Linette joins everyone else in staring up toward the moving ... thing. Already a hand is moving up and back, and automatic grope for her bow.
Where Asha managed to put a long, thin blade and a dagger in that dress is likely up for debate, but she certainly manages to get them out with little trouble, standing quickly when the creature is in sight.
Rourke yells, "Everyone off the field!"
From the field, Brandon looks up at the creature that approaches, "Caspian, my sword and cross bow *quick*" He's already moving towards the stands, "PROTECT THEIR MAJESTIES!!!!"
From the field, The Master of Ceremonies lets out a yell as the beast approaches him, tumbling from his soapbox in his haste to get down and get to a weapon. "A sword! Some one bring me a damn sword!" he cries out, running full tilt towards the Squires on the field.
Shalanaia sits fixed in place wide eyes fastened on the thing barreling from the sky, face pale.
Glyph tips her head back at the falling shadow. Her lips pursing togather at the sight. Oh this is trouble.She is rather calm, while everyone appears to be pancing. She doesn't even stand up, but her eyes do shift to the stand.
Duke Rhyse rises from his seat quickly, looking around for his son. "DOMINIC!" he yells.
Aileana's eyes go wider at the creature, "Oh...horse dung on a Field's rabbit! What the...what is it?" She stands up quickly and looks to Phaeton for protection.
Well Lin certaintly didn't expect that! Her eyes widen as she watches that creature make its descent and hear's Brandon. She's not certain what to do but makes hasty steps towards Mena to make sure she's alright and looks over to Rourke.
Dominic sees the dragon thing and takes off for the field, "I'll kill it!! I'll get it!" All balls and no brains sometimes.
Rourke shoots Mogur a look, his fingers curling around the rail, "What IS it!?" He pushes back from the rail instantly as the kights convene around he and the imperials, giving them room.
From the field, Sir Michael, watching from the sidelines as the beast approaches, looks positively horrified for about two point five seconds and then he's drawing his sword from his belt. He never thought he'd be back in action again but once a Knight - always a Knight. "To me!" he calls out to the other Knights.
Mogur Imperius lays the non-wand-holding hand upon his chest. "This is terrible, Emperor. It looks like some sort of magical experiment. I am ashamed that such a creature has escaped the veil of Mists to threaten your citizens. It is such a lucky thing that the knights are here to defend you."
Mena just sits there and stares, the creature chasing the master of ceremonies sort of like watching a train wreck. It's going to be bad, but she can't look away. She just remains in her chair and watches.
Caspian's eyes widen as the .. /thing/ looms closer, and at Brandon's command he sprints off towards where he left the knight's gear and hauls up both his sword and his own and carries the crossbow in his arms. "Linette, to arms! Hurry!" he calls to her and other squires as he swiftly passes them, appraoching Brandon who is already heading towards the stands.
From the field, Pulling free his sword and still having his shield in hand by some chance after his fall, Ranulf swings around drunkenly to meet this threat that endangers the Imperial Family. "Fell beast, be gone!" he cries from within his helm.
"Your majesty, I think it's time we got under cover," Asha says calmly, stepping out of the way for the arriving knights to do just that, though she shoots a perplexed glance towards the Mogur, utterly distrustful.
Shalanaia calls out, 'Sir Brandon...the boy!'
Duke Rhyse dives after Dominic, trying to catch the kid before he can make it onto the field.
From the field, The monster tucks its wings and lands fully upon the Master of Ceremonies. The man can henceforth add the title Main Course to his accolades as claws and the lion's head rip him asunder. The creature has landed.
From the field, The MC's scream of agony is blissfully short, as, it seems, was his life.
From the field, Valairre quickly looks over the creature and yells for the squires of his to get his weapons, for now the only thing close at hand is a lance, which he grabs and heads to place himself between that thing flying in and the Imperial Box, with the lance facing the beast..
Dominic is trying to squirrel through people to get down to the monster to fight it, "I'll save everyone!" With a broken arm and everything, he will!
As the beast attacks, the group of legionnaires, a good fifty of them total, spring into action. While Knights rush to the Emperor, the half a century rushes the field, forming up as quickly as they can to aid in keeping the creature occupied.
"Dominic Claremont I am going to tan your ass until it BLISTERS if you don't stop right this INSTANT!" Rhyse cries out, terror in his voice for his son as he fights his way to the crowd to catch the child.
Panic whips through the citizens in the stands, those closest to the aisles being climbed over by the others. Screams of "Flee Flee" Rent the air.
Phaeton pulls Aileana close to him and growls softly, "Somebody get Dominic before he kills himself!" He mutters furiously, "Mogur, can't you..blast the damn thing or something?"
Shalanaia looks on at the scene in abject horror.
Brandon vaults up the steps to the Emperors side. "My life for yours, Your Majesty." He reaches to Caspian and grabs his sword and cross bow. He readies the cross bow first and lowers his aim to the beast.
Phailin finds herself to her sister's side and looks about the knights that surround her as she tries reason with Mena, "Mena, go with the knights! Your not safe here!" Wincing when she sees the MC now become main course.
From the field, The defense is two pronged. Some Knights armed with crossbows - including Sir Brandon and his Squire Caspian - ascend to the observation stands to protect the Emperor while those remaining on the ground follow Sir Michael to join the legionairres in combatting the beast.
Mena leans to one side in her seat, to look around someone who gets in the way of her view. Her eyes are wide as everything happens so fast around her. Of course, when she hears her name, she looks up. "There are knights all over, Lin," she says calmly. "They will do their duty, I have faith."
From the field, Still on horseback, Sir Sigurd leans down off his horse to pick up a dropped lance and swings around, riding towards the creature. The lance out before him as he rushes on, aiming to skewer the beast if it stays so low.
From the field, Linette needs no coaxing from Caspian. Having reached only air on her back, the young woman sprints hastily to the sidelines where her own gear rests. Strapping on her belt, and then shouldering her quiver, she tears after the other knights and squires with her jaw set and eyes blazing. Even as she runs, she reaches back for an arrow.
Emperor Rourke winces as the master of ceremonies is no more! He curses under his breath, a litany of foul words as he reaches out for Mena, intending on nabbing her and pulling her back with him into the safety of the area of the arriving knights, the Duchess... and Mogur Imperius. Rourke nods to Brandon, "You have charge, Sir Knight."
Dominic does stop short, but it's mainly in morbid fascination at the animal and how it just ate a person. This is going to be tough. As if the kid hears no one else, he stands still to formulate a plan! A /plan/, I say. In other words, it's a pause long enough to likely be caught by frantic adults.
Thank Providence. Rhyse's arms go about his son's waist and he bodily lifts the boy up, carrying him quickly back towards the Emperor and the protection of the Knights who have joined the Imperials in the stands.
"Sure...." Lin looks at Mena as if she'll say something more but than Rourke is pulling the Empress closer to him and she retreats though she's curious as everyone else to see what is going on.
Asha shoots one more disgusted glance towards the Mogur - though her dress is given much the same look - then abandons Rourke to the Knights to push her way through the fleeing crowds and down towards the arena as well. Knights may not need commanders, but legionnaires do. "Sword and armor!" she calls to a straggler as she passes, shrugging into the hard leather vest and catching the gladius mid-air before joining the others on the sands.
From the field, Protochimera tosses back the lion's head. Gobbets of meat fly through the air. Meat, as in hunks of flesh that were previously a person. Arrows pepper its form, and this seems to displease it. Some stick, some bounce off. It roars and neighs piercingly, and launches itself into the air.
Brandon looks around to those with bows, "AIM FOR THE DRAGONS HEAD! FIRE!" He orders and lets an arrow fly.
Shalanaia looks on as the Duke rescues the boy..finally letting out held breath with a shuddering sigh of relief, she buries her face in her hands.
Mena does make a sound of surprise as she's pulled out of her seat and more away from the field. "Did you /see/ that?!" she asks of the Keeper. "That guy was just ripped apart!"
From the field, The orange-red sun sinks below the western horizon, leaving a darkening tapestry of purple and red-gold clouds behind it.
Caspian brandishes his own sword once Brandon has his, eyes upon the beast who has already claimed at least one life. Teeth gritting, he looks at the .. monster? in vague fascination, gripping his sword and standing at a slight crouch at the ready next to Brandon.
Aileana looks out from Phaeton's hold and just stares with wide-eyes, "Seriously, Phae..this is something wild hares would pause for." And she remains rather attached to her brother-in-law save for that staring that she can't seem to stop doing.
Emperor Rourke growls, "I saw..." Rourke pulls in a deep breath as Asha decends the stairs onto the field.. in a dress. "Damnit."
Mogur Imperius lightly tsks. "At least it is a more challenging battle now, Emperor." His head turns to look back towards Phaeton. He lifts a brow and smiles. "It is in the hands of the knights and warriors, Excellency. I would not interfere with their skill and battle." The silveron wand is tucked away into his garments.
From the field, Skidding to a halt, Linette's run up the stairs ends in a little hop and turn. Arrow thus nocked, she waits until the creature rises from the ground to take aim and send a shot toward the beast's underside.
From the field, "Eyes and soft spots!" Asha bellows as the beast takes to the air, and the legionnaires armed with bows or crossbows - about fifteen of the fifty - are quick ot follow orders, aiming and firing.
Emperor Rourke glares over at Mogur, his eyes narrowing as he leans toward the man, hissing softly.
The first of the citizens makes thier way out of the stands streaming for the exits.
"Watch! Dont get in the Knights way!"
From the field, "Excellent thinking, Sir Sigurd!" Sir Michael calls out as he sees the Knight on horseback pick up a lance. That'll give the beastie pause, once it's been run through by a tree trunk.
Glyph eyes widen at the sight, while remaining glued on her seat. She never seen people fight with arrows and swords before. Excuse the woman that is gawking openly at the sight.
From the field, Ranulf is before the ranks of legionaries and he charges at the protochimera. As the creature lifts off, the knight stands in the puddle of blood and guts that was the MC and waves his sword up in frustration as his target has lifted off. "Come back you worthless freak-thing, FIGHT LIKE A MAN!!!"
Dominic screams in protest as he's lifted up, his arm likely taking a hint of abuse in the process, "Let me down!" He kicks a few times as he tries to get away from his Father, "I want to go fight it! I'm brave!"
Rhyse is not even going to DIGNIFY that with a response. He holds onto the squirming child tightly, taking the brunt of the kicks without complaint. At least so long as he can hold onto Dominic, Dominic isn't in danger of being /eaten/.
Mena just keeps trying to look around people to see what's going on.
Mogur Imperius smiles laconically at the Emperor. His smile grows with the call of Ranulf. "A shining example of intellect, your knights. Do not worry Emperor. I see one man down on the field, but he is only mostly dead. I can certainly fix him."
Brandon cocks an arrow and eyes the Mogur himself, "Providence help you if the royal family is harmed and lifted nay a hand to protect them. I will kill you myself." He turns back and fires again at the beast, but for a moment, that arrow might have been meant for the Mogur.
From the field, Valairre stands where he is as and gets handed his battle axe by a passing page who doesn't stick around too long since he's now weaponless. The knight hefts axe in one hand and the lance in the other as he looks for a chance to stick it in that beast.
"Glyph what is that thing?" Elphin nudges "The Mogur is here, can't he handle it? "
The Keeper shoots the Mogur a dark look, then back to the field his attention goes. He shifts he weight forward, "Sir Brandon... see to it my Empress gets back to the castle." He'll leave it to the knight to choose which knights escort the lady, his own attention fastened on his knights and the protochimera.
The monster wings just above the ground. Powerful wind comes from the downbeats of its broad wings. The dragon head roars with pain as a bolt lodged aside its jaw. It belches fire at the row of legionnaires and Ranulf. As for soft spots, a few more arrows stick, but lots ricochet off of spots that look soft and arent. When Sigurd comes a-lancing at it, the unicorn head of the protochimera lowers as if it will charge back. The lion's roars. It doesn't charge, though. Wings beat harder and it lifts up, only a scratch of the lance skittering along scales and opening a thin wound along the stomach before it is higher in the air.
Mena looks as if she's about to protest to Rourke's order of Brandon, but does think better of it, instead watching as much as she can before she's hauled off to relative safety.
Phaeton growls under his breath as he frowns towards the Mogur, "For the love of... Well, if you fear you cannot handle it, I can understand. Always admirable of a man to admit when a task is too large for him. I am sure the Keeper and his Knights will be able to deal with the matter."
Dominic continues to kick and squirm against his Father's hold, wincing and finally surrendering to the man's strength since his arm is getting jostled too much. When a battle like this is lost, the only thing left to do is cry in defeat. He does.
Caspian looks to each head of the creature with a darkening frown. He looks down towards the field at the battlking knights and squires, lokoing as if he'd not hesitate to go down there and join them. But he stays where he is, not daring to leave Brandon or the Imperial family. "Keep to your shields for the fire!" he all but roars down to them.
Glyph shakes her head to come out of her trance. The moment it does a rush of different thoughts and emotions flood her. She looks up to Elphin and blinks, answering his question into his ear to make sure he'll hear it with all the noise. Her gaze flicks to a certain someone in the crowd.
From the field, Knocked around and battle-crazed, Ranulf is protected by his armor and isn't feeling any pain at the moment anyway as he watches the beast hover overhead out of reach.
Brandon nods to Rourke, but does not hide the disappointment being driven from battle, "Yes, Your Majesty." He turns to Caspian and two other knights, "Follow me!" He turns to Mena, "Your Majesty, if you will come with us please?"
"If you're ready to be still, you can watch from my shoulders," Rhyse says, lifting his son to ride on his shoulders so that he can see the excitement down below.
From the field, The first line of legionnaires goes down with the flames, though at least the training for deailing with fire during the zombie invasions seems to have served some purpose. Those not burned too badly are quick to roll in the sand of the arena, smothering the fire. The second and third line start to falter at seeing their comrades roasted, but Asha is behind them, and suddenly in them. "Hold the line!" she roars, pointing the borrowed gladius up. "Aim for the cut!" she orders, and the remaining ten archers aim and fire.
Aileana just stays next to Phaeton, her eyes continuing to widen, "I...think.." And that's all she can say.
In the stands, chaos reigns as knights move to protect the Emperor and people flee the vicinity. On the field, warriors and knights battle a hideous monster.
From the field, Sir Michael is on fire! He was too close to the beast when it belched flame, and the cloth of his tabard alights as he stumbles back away from the rising beast.
Dominic sniffles, "I wanna fight it, Daddy! Pleeeeeeeeeeeease." Mind you, since he's stopped squirming, he certainly watches!
Mena does nod to Brandon, stepping away from Rourke's side to join the knight to go back to the castle and miss the outcome.
"Nothin's don't fight ... whatever those things are," Rhyse says to Dominic. "I'm certain Lord Vincente would tell you the same."
Elphin stands up and yells as loud as he can "MOGUR!!"
Phailin watches for a moment as her sister is escorted to safety by the knight. But she'll keep watching! She's quiet and still.
Shalanaia lifets her face from her hands to gaze on the battle, her face stark white.
Mogur Imperius turns casually towards Elphin's bellow of his name. "You have great lung capacity, Citizen Speaker."
Rourke pushes toward teh railing as the knights and warriors gird their loins and move into a position overlooking the field. His eyes narrow as he watches the his troops, maybe taking the moment to assess the battle and strategies being shown by this surprise arrival.
Brandon casts a worries glance to Sir Michael, "Providence protect him." He whispers. "WE MOVE!" He shouts to the two other knights and his squire and they move to depart, leading the Empress away from danger.
