MOD PLOT: NOT ALONE DO WE STAND, PART 1

[faderifting]

WHO: Anyone who wants to attend
WHAT: THE GRAND TOURNEY
WHEN: Bloomingtide 20-27
WHERE: Wycome
NOTES: We'll be rolling one or two events per day, in the order listed, and posting the results here! That's also where you can find your diplomacy or espionage assignments and their results. There will be a second log post in about five days regarding the end of the tournament, to give people a place to RP about the competitions' results once they know them and to react to some other surprise developments, so leave some room for dessert.

The Grand Tourney is one of Thedas's greatest spectacles--all the nations of the world and plenty of others besides turned out to compete in this edition of the famous test of arms. The Duke of Wycome has granted the use of a broad plain outside the city, a vast open span of grass bounded on both sides by minor forks of the Minanter making their way to the sea, and split down the center by another. Scores of the duke's men have been hard at work since the announcement, constructing stands and arenas, the rough wooden rails and benches of the commons and luxurious boxes for the more exalted spectators, lifted above the masses and shaded by awnings, draped with bunting in Wycome's brilliant purple and gold.

Between and among the competition grounds are stalls and roving vendors selling anything and everything, most popular the vast open-sided tents filled with trestle tables and benches and neverending barrels of ale and wine as tall as a qunari. Stages of various sizes dot the grounds, hosting musicians, dancers, tumblers, performers of all kinds. Others wander through the crowds, putting on impromptu shows wherever it looks like there are enough people with free coin about.

A half-dozen new wooden bridges span the central river--more like a large stream, really--and connect the competition grounds to the camping grounds. Tents in all colors and styles are arrayed in rough groups, marked out with the banners of knights, houses, mercenary companies, kingdoms. The Inquisition has sprung for new tents for its delegation to make sure they look the part, dramatic black as a backdrop to the Inquisition banners that fly atop each of them, housing two to four people each. Nearest are some Orlesians with an array of brightly-colored silk structures, and on the opposite side, a mercenary company called the the Grizzly Legion, a particularly rowdy outfit, with banners market by a giant red bear, and bonfires and revelry late into the night every night.

INTERNATIONAL RELATIONS

The general atmosphere of the tourney is raucous and celebratory, but the rivalries inherent in the occasion seem less good-natured than they might have in past years. Nevarra seems divided into two camps rather than one, with a (not-yet-literal) line down the middle of their encampment and their crowds that's bridged only by the brave and slightly awkward few who still haven't chosen between the Pentaghasts and Van Markhams. And the Orlesians, despite rumors that the Empire is still struggling in the wake of its own civil war, seem particularly delighted to see their rivals teetering on the brink—some are even taking odds on how soon they'll be able to get Perendale back. But, of course, no one can rival Tevinter for smugness. If there was a fancy sword awarded for that, they would win it every year, and there's no sitting near their delegation without "overhearing" an unnecessarily loud conversation about the sorry state of the rest of Thedas.

Of course, not everyone is caught up in the affairs of surfacer empires: there are delegations from both Orzammar and Kal-Sharok, each apparently pretending the other does not exist, and the odd Avvar and Chasind who seems to think everyone else is being a bit ridiculous about everything. The most isolated attendees are those from the Anderfels, who stick close together and rarely speak to anyone else—not that anyone else seems much inclined even if they did want to. At the other end of the spectrum are the Free Marchers; this is the one occasion every-few-years when they look to one another as brothers, rather than distinct and often competitive nations.

FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT

The Grand Tourney's official competitions are scheduled to take place over five days, culminating with the prestigious Grand Melee and awarding of the Celebrant. Before then, the tournament progresses day by day through unarmed combat, archery, armed combat, and jousting competitions, each heavily attended by delighted spectators cheering for their countrymen and any foreigner who strikes them as particularly charming, plus the odd equal-opportunity heckler. A few extra fights break out here and there when tempers flare, between both competitors and observers, and when the alcohol flows more liberally at night the chance of trouble rises. But for the most part, the competitions are fair and the mood around them is celebratory.

Away from the main grounds, a few additional staging areas have been provided for events focused on magic—these are more sparsely attended, due to their unofficial nature and the fears of much of the populace that they might catch a fireball to the face if they wander too close, but enough people's curiosity trumps fear to form a thinner, quieter crowd. The two events open to mages, combat against fade-touched creatures and a version of the melee with teams that allow mages, take place in the early mornings, when they won't be competing with the official events for attention, and are most heavily attended by Tevinter mages who are very, very certain that they can't be beat.

Comments

Korrin Ataash

[gatheringstorm]

I. Meet the Parents

Korrin barely gives enough time to set up the tent and set things up properly inside it before she's off again. There's so much to see and do that she won't be back to that tent without one of two things happening; Araceli seducing her, or returning bone-tired and collapsing just long enough to stave off some of that. It's going to be an exciting week, and she's determined to miss as little of it as possible.

On her way to check out the tourney ground before training, she perks up and beckons to the first friendly face she sees. "C'mon, let's go exploring--" But she doesn't get to finish before a well-muscled, bearded qunari man approaches from several paces behind. Scooping Korrin up with ease, he grins and envelopes her in a strong embrace before she can do more than register his sudden appearance, croaking out a response as best she can. "Dad, air--"

A tall qunari woman of roughly the same age as the man though presenting a much calmer appearance, strides over and speaks up, her voice deep. "Kadan, put her down. I prefer our daughter breathing." Despite that admonishment, her eyes crinkle in amusement as Korrin is finally set down, gulping for air. Thanks, Dad.

II. Carnival Games and Vendors

When she's not training or competing in the big events, there are other games to be won. Korrin knows that plenty of the games are rigged and the prizes are cheap, but that doesn't stop her from spending her hard-earned coin as she pleases and treating it all like serious business. That stuffed sea dragon won't win itself, and so she'll try her hand at that marksmanship game. Or maybe you find her wielding a large hammer to compete for who can swing it hardest. The pot of coins keeps growing, and no one has won the grand prize (located in a mystery box) yet. And so on and so forth; anything that requires a good aim or strong arm and she'll be there. Help her out or cheer her on, or if you're a familiar face wanting to join in, she might spot you some coin.

III. Partying with the Grizzly Legion

One of the reasons Korrin doesn't get nearly as much rest as she perhaps should is because of a certain rowdy crew with banners marked by a giant red bear. Having found her kind of people, the party-loving Vashoth will join early and stay late into the night as often as she can manage and still be in fighting form for her events. Any familiar faces joining her will be met with a wink and a big tankard of mead, ale or 'what the hell is that and why is it so strong', depending on what she knows or suspects they can handle.

"Go head, have some! And then we're dancing, this beat is too good not to move to it."

Later on during the evening, when a break is needed, Korrin is a willing pillow by the bonfire. She'll only be nudged from her spot if someone's ill and needs help back to their tent. Otherwise, she'll keep celebrating until the party winds down.

IV. Cheering Section

Though she's not participating in the non-mage events, Korrin still attends almost every event. If a friend is taking part, it's practically guaranteed, as she'll put her booming voice to good use and cheer on her friends or boo their opponents (if they're people she doesn't know/care about). She's also helpful for clearing some space if someone wants to join her antics, waving over a vendor to get fresh candied apples or whatever else they'd want.

V. Wildcard Hit me.

i Meet the parents, slightly tweaked if that's cool?

[foxsays]

To say Araceli's nervous would be something of an understatement.

The tourney isn't something they'd have in Castileos, the sort of distraction the Inquisition needs (and even if Araceli has an assignment, there's less at stake than there would be at a party, a chance to breathe, to try to unwind away from Kirkwall where Lux is guarding the office with some of the staff being paid extra to check in) and she's enjoying it. But not so much knowing that she's long overdue meeting Korrin's parents. When she already stayed with her grandmother that time in Rivain when she was off studying.

But she's celebrated three First Days here, and the first one was when this became official, and Korrin's told her parents, it's not as if they don't know but it's been a long time of Araceli being here, being part of Korrin's life without ever meeting them--

"Sirena," a quiet urgent sort of hiss from Araceli as she adjusts her coat yet again, settles the dragon's tooth she's been fiddling with it unless anyone's said something to her about, "What if they don't approve."

(Which is ludicrous, they sent gifts, they raised Korrin, and if Korrin's turned out as she has because of them then Araceli would already know, and Korrin wouldn't care, or she'd tell her not to care, only meeting the parents isn't something thieves usually do. Leandra's mother doesn't count.)

Yep! <3

[gatheringstorm]

Korrin's quietly nervous as well, concerned that her dad's boisterous behavior and her mother's intensity will be too much to face. She's done her best to warn Araceli about the parents who had her young and that she more or less had to raise as they were raising her. They have their hearts in the right place, so everything will work out. Right?

Clamping down on her own concerns, she smiles at Araceli reassuringly. "Do you think they send care packages to people they don't approve of? Trust me, they wouldn't waste the time. Besides, they've heard all about you from me, Tama, possibly Lena. They love you already, as well they should. You're brave, witty, charming, you know what proper seasoning is and you make me happy. There's no way they won't be thrilled to see you, kadan." She reaches out to squeeze her love's hand gently, just hoping her parents will remember that qunari hugs need to be toned down for tiny humans.

[foxsays]

Consider Araceli raised being around sailors and pirates, and mostly in her mother's brothel, so boisterous and intense are less concerning to her than having people look at a girl that fell out of a sky. And really, most of her past experiences with parents can be summarised as follows: clambering out the window in the morning to avoid them (because they're nobles and/or wealthy enough to take a dislike to her on principle), a passing face at a party she's been invited to on the arm of someone (saying little because they're wise enough to know that saying too much will only encourage their child), or a stilted exercise in talking around what she does for a living.

The queen mother again doesn't count because then Araceli was alongside five others so terrified of forgetting their courtesies that they jumped every time she addressed them directly for the first hour.

Packages are polite, could come out of her mouth easily but that's not something Korrin's parents would do because the idea of Korrin doing that is laughable unless it was one of those situations where they had no other options maybe or it was going to save lives. So Araceli takes a deep breath, considers that she really is being ridiculous about this, and wipes her palms on her trousers under the guise of settling how her rapiers hang by her hips, and tries not to look embarrassed about what Korrin says about her. When she fails at the latter she elbows her in the side. Just a little.

"Stop it." But she does take Korrin's hand, tries to brace herself. "It's just-- it's been a long time going on everyone else's word. We've been together almost two and a half years now, this is the first time I've met them, there's the dragon's tooth, the ring--"

And those are unmistakeably Korrin's parents so Araceli is going to shut up before they catch any of that and brace herself.

I hope Araceli enjoyed breathing

[gatheringstorm]

Her parents are indeed unmistakable, as aspects of Korrin are readily apparent in both. Her father is responsible for her freckles and pale hair along with general horn shape, while her mother shares Korrin's violet eyes and cheekbones. She's a good mix of them both, though extended inspection might be difficult when they close in, and Korrin's father reaches them both first.

"Mom, Dad, this is--" Korrin barely gets that out before she's swept up and his very muscular arms enfold her in a firm embrace. At least he didn't catch her off-guard, but she barely has time to register it before he lets her go and promptly bends down to embrace Araceli in the same fashion. "Dad, you better be careful. She's not a qunari, okay?"

Korrin's less boisterous mother calmly catches up to them and hugs her daughter in a less lung-crushing fashion before eyeing the others. There's amusement in her gaze but also concern as Araceli's a small human and a certain someone is probably not taking that into account. Her voice is deeper than her daughter's as she admonishes him. "Kadan, put her down. I prefer our daughter's kadan breathing."

[foxsays]

It's the same game that always gets played, that makes Araceli wonder for the briefest of moments who Korrin would see in her own face if a ship arrived in the docks bearing her parents. Then she has the wisdom to take a deep breath, the one right before a dive, doesn't tense.

It still hurts, something in her back popping when the ugly knots where all her tension is forced out. Even up on the tips of her toes it has to be a ridiculous sight, her and Korrin's father.

"Señor , señora Ataash, it's so good to finally meet you." Araceli needs a good few moments before she can manage that, flustered enough to fall back into all her courtesies while she blinks to clear black spots from the corners of her eyes. "I'm sorry it's taken so long, if was entirely my fault."

[gatheringstorm]

"Call me Kaaras, my dear! Everyone else does, except my baby girl."

Korrin slaps her father's arm for squeezing Araceli so tight, though he's tough enough where that's nothing more than a love-tap. Meanwhile, Korrin's mother edges in for a hug as well, her own embrace much more gentle as though to make up for her kadan's impulsive strength. She flashes a warm smile.

"Apology accepted, if you will call me Herah and join us for dinner while you both are in town." As Korrin opens her mouth to speak, she continues. "Yes, I know you both have your events. When the Grand Tourney arrives at your city, everything else comes to a standstill. We have no students while everyone's spectating, so our time is flexible. Dinner can always be whenever we wish."

Kaaras grunts, folding his arms and trying not to pout. "It'd be less flexible, if we were part of it too. The sign-ups were filled before we got a chance."

Korrin shakes her head, a mixture of sympathetic and relieved. She didn't want him to meet her friends by beating them up. "I cheered for you, in the past; now it's your turn to do the same. Besides, we have carnival prizes to win together."

[foxsays]

"I don't have any events." Which feels like such an admission all of a sudden, standing here in front of people who apparently were going to be if they'd managed it. Still, Araceli continues on since she doesn't really have anything to do here for a change when normally there's something to keep her busy and the sudden amount of free time is jarring to say the least. "There's a Chantry Mother I need to speak with but even Chantry Mothers should be allowed to enjoy themselves however they can at a tourney before the dread Inquisition comes nipping at their heels."

There's more she can't really say about that, and hopefully it won't be a thing since she's sort of doing Chantry work in some strange capacity for the Inquisition or at least involved in improving relations here and there where it's even possible, but she smiles, a little more at ease. She can do this. She can hang out just fine when that's basically all she's good for just now.

"I don't know how much Korrin's said but where I come from, it's more like bits of Antiva, Rivain, and Llomerryn mixed together in a pot so there aren't tourneys at all. All of this? It's very new for me. The events, this many horses everywhere," and she's pulling a face because she doesn't like horses (rip in peace stolen Tevinter horse, you fed a pack of demons super well out by Craintellier), "I mean we have our games, our carnivals but it's not at all like this so," and she leans in because the big man maybe needs someone to confide in him even if she winks at Korrin first, "I'm a little lost you know."

[gatheringstorm]

Korrin's dad looks as though he was about to comment on the Chantry Mother thing (and her mother looks a bit curious, too), but a brief elbowing from his daughter and then Araceli's charm is an effective distraction. He lights up, spreading his arms wide. Such words just add fuel to the flames, and it's not hard to see where Korrin gets her enthusiasm and energy from.

"Then you're in good hands! We've been doing this for decades, ever since Korrin here was little and trying to drag her mother's bow onto the field."

Her mother chuckles fondly at that, and Korrin rolls her eyes a little but otherwise takes it in stride. She knew this was going to happen, but lets him continue. They've been excited to meet Araceli and there's no way she's going to be a kill joy in any sense. "Stick with us and we can explain all the events and games, not to mention show you where to get the best deals. And if you have trouble watching Korrin from the stands, that's what our shoulders are for."

Herah nods readily to this, her voice kind and encouraging. "We don't mind. You arrived with the Inquisition, but you have family here. I'll do all I can to help our daughter's kadan feel at home." Speaking of home-- "Korrin has given us a basic overview, but she also said that you might want to share much of it yourself. I would love to hear more. Why don't we seek refreshments and share tales?"

Knowing what's ahead, Korrin smirks a little. "And here come all the embarrassing childhood stories...."

IV

[lyriumcarved]

Fenris is still highly skeptical of any situation wherein he's supposed to perform for a crowd's amusement. Oh, sure, this is all much more humane in ways than the way it was back in Tevinter. No one is being forced into this, exactly, though it was still strongly urged for them to participate. For the good of the Inquisition and all.

But despite how uneager he is, Fenris at least tries to ignore the crowd and just focus on the events themselves. He likes the chance to test his skills, to some extent. So in the unarmed event, he makes it for a few opponents. He doesn't bother to pull out his glowing phasing ability, though, sticking to pure combat. He's especially sure to wish Skadi a good fight after they go at it... hers is one in which he'd put in effort, since he was curious to see what she had in her.

But inevitably, he gets knocked out of the whole thing, a good hard whack sending him to the ground. He's shaking off the dirt as he notices Korrin. "Was that thrilling enough?" He doesn't sound as if he cares, though. If this were back in Tevinter, he probably would not be getting a meal that evening, given that he didn't win, but there might have been a concession if it was exciting. Or so Hadriana would have said, anyway. Ugh. He's having far too many flashbacks here, and it's probably showing in his rather dark demeanor at the moment.

[gatheringstorm]

Korrin raises an eyebrow as she offers him a cup of ice water, having one for herself as well. "You put up a good fight, that's for damn sure. I would have been out there with you, if they'd allowed it. Are you going to stick around to see who wins, or is it time for drinks and games?" Perhaps getting away from the arena would do him some good and if so, she's not one to complain if she can rope him into hanging out for a while.

[lyriumcarved]

"I'd rather keep my distance from any events with magic in use." He adds, then, "Not that I don't respect your capabilities in battle... I'd certainly rather have you on my side than against it." But in an arena setting? He's going to be a bit weird about this.

He takes the water and gulps some down, wiping away sweat from his brow afterward. It had definitely been a strenuous few rounds, but he's pretty much relieved at the moment, to be done. He's got a few bruises here and there, new ones from the latest round, but it's not any worse than what he's used to.

"I'd say it's time for drinks. As entertaining as all of this is, there's only so much of it that one can watch at a time."

[gatheringstorm]

"I get it. Trust me, if they allowed it, I would have been totally okay with just using my physical might and holding off on the spells." Korrin just wasn't willing to lie about being a mage, though, not when she hoped to improve perceptions of them. Her thoughts turning elsewhere, she downs her water and nods.

"Good, there's a beer tent not too far from here. I say 'beer' but it seems to have a lot of other stuff, too. This may be your best chance for something exotic."

[lyriumcarved]

"Magic is far too dangerous to have it as part of a mere game." Fenris scowls harshly at the thought. "Though they obviously think otherwise in certain other nations."

He knows he's talking to a mage, but he also respects that Korrin won't take this personally. There are some ways in which he's gotten better about this, but there are some stubborn points where he's just not willing to concede his stance on magic.

But, he's definitely perking up at the notion of drinks, nodding agreement. "Let's go see their offerings. I wouldn't mind sampling something I haven't yet tried, if such a thing exists."

[gatheringstorm]

Korrin doesn't take it personally but as she also doesn't entirely agree, it's time to let that go. He's obviously in a mood, usual opinions aside, and continuing that line of discussion isn't going to help any. So she'll lead the way toward booze and perhaps better times.

"You never know, some of the brewers could be using us to taste-test their new creations. What better place for it where people are going to be drinking a lot, anyway?"

[lyriumcarved]

It's definitely for the best to move on from that topic. This whole event has set him on edge, especially because of the presence of competitors from his least favorite place. That and the whole idea of magic for a 'fun' event... it all just rubs him the wrong way. Magic has its uses in battle, even he'll grudgingly admit it, but this sort of situation is rather different. They might never completely see eye to eye on this, but he at least won't press the matter further either.

He's also glad for the distraction from his less than pleasant mood. He nods thoughtfully. "This would be the best place to bring out new and unusual drinks, with so many of us around from everywhere..." He finally even lightens up, just a bit. "You know this means we're either in for some worthwhile discoveries... or the worst possible beer we've ever tasted."

[gatheringstorm]

"Either way, it won't be boring. Right?" It's the Grand Tourney and everything will be larger than life, the good and the bad. Korrin can roll with the punches as long as some good stories come of it.

"Let's try whatever sound craziest together, and go from there. If it sucks, don't warn the others. They should find out just like we did." She grins mischievously at that.

IV

[altusimperius]

Not far from Korrin's chosen cheering spot sits Benedict and a few of his favorite drunken party boys from Minrathous, whom he was lucky enough to find when the Inquisition arrived. He himself isn't all that inebriated-- he's got work to do-- but all the same, the shouting from over in the stands merits a disdainful glance and he can't quite help himself.
"They'll let just anybody in these days," he remarks, under the guise of privacy but certainly loud enough to be heard."

[gatheringstorm]

If there's one predictable aspect of Korrin, it's that disdain will bring out the petty side of her. Hearing the vint but not rewarding him with a glance, Korrin spitefully whistles and claps even louder. Given their circumstances, it's hardly out of line.

"Alright, Fenris! You show 'em who's boss!"

[altusimperius]

Hardly out of line, no, but the lack of reaction means Benedict has to try a little harder to elicit one.
"That quillback is about to have an elfskin cloak," he says idly, sipping from his wine. One of his companions laughs, but the others are engaged in a separate conversation.

[gatheringstorm]

That comment causes her temper to rise, though she tries not to show it outside of narrowed eyes and renewed cheering when Fenris does land a blow. The quillback may be tenacious (and venomous and other unpleasant things), but while Fenris is still up and swinging, she'll cheer each and every blow he lands. She would anyway, but now she has no problem being louder about it.

"Tear that thing apart!"

[altusimperius]

At first, it seems that Bene's had his fun. But as the battle turns, and the quillback begins to overpower its opponent, laughter begins to emanate from the group of Tevinters. At least one crack is made about a rabbit in the ring, though Benedict isn't its origin; he does, however, loll his head to look at Korrin, smug as ever.

[gatheringstorm]

Fenris' losing ground doesn't silence Korrin at all, quite the opposite. She shouts more words of encouragement, even if he isn't close enough to hear. Part of that is deepening investment in his bout, and part of it is that continued spite. Hearing 'rabbit' takes all her willpower to ignore, but she manages by focusing on the battle as much as possible.

"C'mon, gut the fucking prick! Pretend it's a magi--" Shit, the creature got in too close, and that venom is going to take its toll.

[altusimperius]

The battle goes downhill, and the Tevinters get all the more raucous and smug. They're at least half-laughing at Korrin by the end of it as well, one of them mocking her aggressive motions and sticking his fingers up against his head like horns.
Laughing with them, Bene drinks his wine.

[gatheringstorm]

Fenris isn't going to last, Korrin realizes with a sinking in her gut. That taunting revives her itch to turn around and punch the smug smiles off each and every one of them, especially Bene. But the mountain of consequences to follow would not be worth the brief moment of satisfaction, tempting as it is. Fucking vints, getting away with their assholery yet again. She grits her teeth, determined to see the fight through to the end.

When Fenris goes down, she promptly departs the stands without a look back, determined to reach her friend's side and give him some much-needed support.