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

Kylo Ren

[letoldthingsdie]

Spectating

He had debated signing up for at least one of these events but decided against it. His newfound mistrust of the Inquisition made him wary of drawing attention to himself. He didn't want to put a larger target on his back than he most assuredly already had after his outbursts on the network. Still, he's fine watching events unfold and he's even starting to get into it after a while.

It starts subtly, his eyes lighting up during matches where he finds familiar faces competing, and then he lets out a soft cheer here and there, beginning to enjoy the show and enjoy each match. When he catches himself lifting a fist and letting out a bit of a cheer he clears his throat, hoping he isn't caught doing something so embarrassing.

Carnival Games/Market Stalls

While he wasn't competing in any of the tourney events, he was getting a bit competitive with some games in the carnival. If anyone fancied trying to best him at a ring toss or skeeball, they were welcome to. He wasn't going to take defeat laying down and would probably try for best two out of three.

While not playing games, he walked the faire grounds with Caedus on his heels and food in his hands shared between himself and the sweet mabari who was already growing quickly in the short time Kylo had him. The pup was likely to stop and sniff everything, from people to people's food if they weren't careful, and Kylo would bring him to heel as best as he could. The setting was perfect in helping him relax and not be so tightly wound up.

Dancing

Unless you were Rey or another familiar face, Kylo could be found standing off to the side with a drink in hand, staring from face to face as others enjoyed themselves dancing and drinking and partying the night away. He was never terribly good at raucous gatherings such as these but he wasn't going to shy away into his tent the rest of the night either. Should anyone be brave enough to ask him for a dance he would need some serious convincing.

Even so, he was dressed cleanly for such an occasion, looking ever the part of a prince as was his heritage on his mother's side. Despite being in all black and looking as somber as ever, he wasn't a terrible dancer and was actually quite adept on his feet for one so tall and lanky.

{ market stalls }

[zombra]

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a man in possession of a puppy will get a woman cooing over it as soon as she spots it. And so the pattern holds when Tessa sees Caedus trotting along beside his master.

"Oh my God, look at you!" she says, wearing an ear to ear grin. "You are just the cutest thing." Sorry, dude, but she's talking to your dog. Looking up at the puppy's human, she asks, "Is it okay if I give him a treat?"

[letoldthingsdie]

Caedus takes to the attention easily and immediately. He enjoyed it far more than his master, of course, and was all too happy to stand up on his hind legs giving his new friend a toothy doggy grin. Kylo on the other hand shakes his head at the display. He hadn't yet trained the dog to be calmer when people approached them.

"If you like. He eats just about anything." He'd tried a time or two to put his little doggy teeth into leather boots, his calligraphy pens, and the hilt of his lightsaber. He was a very happy dog.

[zombra]

"Aww, cutie patootie!" The dog is rewarded with something fried and breaded that she pulls off a stick. "Gentle, now," she warns, before handing it over, knowing that dogs of any age can be excitable and nip a little when taking a treat. Of course, she isn't yet well versed on mabari and how easily they understand commands. She's just saying it hoping her tone of voice conveys he should take it gently.

"Yeah, pets usually aren't picky, are they? Well, cats are, but that's their thing, isn't it? Dogs are much easier to handle."

[letoldthingsdie]

"Caedus sit." The pup sits almost immediately when his master commands it, looking expectantly from Kylo to the treat the girl has placed in front of him. With a nod from Kylo, he immediately yanks it from her hands, careful of her fingers. He might still be a clumsy pup but he was beginning to listen well to humans around him.

"He's my first pet so I wouldn't know. Are they always such a handful?" Caedus was easier to handle, but he was also still young and excitable. At times it was frustrating but others it endeared Kylo to him.

"What's your name?" Since she was here, introductions were probably in order.

[zombra]

"I think it depends on their temperament and breed. We had a dachshund when I was growing up, and the first few years she was really playful and hyper, but then she calmed down. Her last few years, she got really lazy and needy. Would whimper at you constantly to pick her up and carry her with you." She nods towards his dog. "I can't really say how this one will turn out, but that's because I'm not from here." Yep, member of the Rifter Club, though she's currently wearing gloves to hide it from non-Inquisition attendees.

"I'm Tessa. You?"

[letoldthingsdie]

"Mm. I'm not familiar with mabari where I'm from either. Pets where I'm from typically have more scales and larger teeth." And if it wasn't more obvious he's a Rifter too, just from that statement, he holds up his own gloved hand, indicating that he has a shard too.

"Kylo. Did you come over from the last rift?" He might have missed it when Obi-Wan and Poe had both arrived.

spectating

[tactical_alert]

There are several events Malcolm is competing in. This is not one of them. He has a keen interest in taking note the players that make a name for themselves, and there's entertainment alone to be had, and of course there's the moral support of cheering on Inquisition members. (And the occasional Fereldan, so long as they don't make an arse of themselves.) Even if he's still a fairly conservative sort, he can get wrapped up in the excitement as anyone else. Honestly, seeing someone not cheer or seem terribly interested stands out.

"Come now," he says with an encouraging smile, "it's all right to have a little fun here." Says the pot to the kettle.

[letoldthingsdie]

Kylo clears his throat, eyes widening for a second as he realizes someone is talking to him. Had he been caught? Normally he was so quiet and gave off an air of not wanting to be in most places he found himself in but this tourney excited him. Someone noticing that made him feel almost embarrassed.

"Yes well... I'm sure there's plenty of people cheering enough for their morale." Awkwardly, he runs his hand through his hair. Nope. Nothing to see here. Cheering? What cheering?

[tactical_alert]

"Difficult not to get caught up in the excitement," Malcolm muses with a smirk. Is the fellow allergic to fun? "And I don't think the added morale boost is going to hurt anyone, even yourself. Is your pup enjoying the events as well?"

Dancing

[provenforce]

Rey periodically disappears from Ben's side to visit with friends, but she always reappears, sometimes alone, sometimes with someone in tow. This particular time she's alone, and has some kind of kebob of meat in one hand, a drink in the other. She lights up when her eyes settle on Ben, holding the stick out to him as she approaches.

"Try this."

Re: Dancing

[letoldthingsdie]

He was nursing his own drink and watching people as they went by. He might not be the most social flower but every time Rey came up to him while she visited with friends, he lit up too. When she holds out food to him, his hand wraps over hers, holding the kebob still as he bends his head forward to pull a piece of meat off of it with his teeth. He nods his head approvingly as he chews, smiling for her as he does.

"It's good. What kind of meat? Venison? Rabbit?" Or one of those weird rabbit-pig things that often lurked in the wild. They had some weird name too, though he couldn't put his name on it.

[provenforce]

"Bear" Rey says, like that revelation is an exciting thing. To her, it is, but she's been pretty persistently the kind of person who will try literally anything at least once.

"The mercenaries next camp over had a ton of bear meat they've been frying up. It's good, isn't it?"

[letoldthingsdie]

"Bear. Well, that makes sense. They're everywhere." He gestures with a flourish of his hand, indicating Thedas as a whole. He wouldn't be surprised if someone wrangled up a bear to fight in one of the contests. Still, he's amused by how excited she is.

"It's good." He agrees, grabbing her wrist to pull the kebob to his mouth and steal another bite. His other arm wraps around her, pulling her close. It wasn't too long ago he was afraid of someone just seeing them together, yet he wasn't thinking about that now. Only her.

[provenforce]

She lets out a surprised yelp as he pulls her against him, but recovers quickly with a small laugh, leaning against him as she gets her feet back under her, the arm not currently occupied with food sliding up to his shoulder.

"Sorry I keep running off. Are you enjoying yourself?"

[letoldthingsdie]

"Yes, though you should be careful I don't eat all of your food." He smiles and it's almost as radiant as hers. He wasn't used to smiling so easily, but somehow she drew it out of him.

His hand on her back rubbed into the soft muscle that curved up her spine. He might have been joking about the food because now his attention is all on her.

Dancing

[altusimperius]

"I didn't think Rifters knew how to dance," comes a languid remark, albeit from a smiling face. "Though I suppose you've the legs for it." It's possible Benedict has had a few too many to drink, but at least he's being friendly, for once.

[letoldthingsdie]

He suddenly feels on edge, being called out as a Rifter. With everything going on back in Kirkwall before they came here, he wsn't exactly very trusting of Native peoples these days. They made him feel on edge whether they avoided him or not. There were only a few exceptions to that rule for him, such as Nari or Bethany. Neither had given him reason to distrust them. If the smile was supposed to put him at ease, he was sorely misguided.

"Political functions happen no matter where you're from. Sometimes they involve dancing." Though technically this might be more for 'fun' than politics, the idea was similar. He had technically grown up a Senator's son, even if these things weren't really his forte.

[altusimperius]

Benedict, make someone feel on edge? The very thought. His smile doesn't falter, and in fact seems to grow in spite of Kylo's bristling. Sauntering toward him like a self-satisfied cat, Bene looks him up and down. "So they do," he muses, "what sort of political functions?"

[letoldthingsdie]

"Senate gatherings, some expensive parties. Things like that." Everything the First Order did was far removed from all of that. It was all in a show of power, such as Hux blowing up an entire planet system with his sunlight absorbing canon. He'd hated that thing and yet had done nothing to stop Hux using it. With the Senate gone it made things a bit easier when dealing with the Resistance.

"You? What does Thedas consider a good occasion for dancing?" At least now he's relaxing and not bristling? The man didn't seem like he was making fun of him anymore.

[altusimperius]

Though tempted to ask what this Senate does, because it seems genuinely intriguing, Benedict is a bit too far gone to articulate it properly-- and now he's being asked about himself, which is essentially the magic word. "Thedas, anything. A good puddle of mud. A dog's birthday." He waves his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Tevinter, however, throws real parties. Occasions with class." A bit of his wine sloshes as he brings it to his mouth.

Market Stalls

[laurenande]

Galadriel enjoyed the food of the Tourney; it was a simple pleasure but one she indulged in as the days passed. Her favorite, she decided, was a variety of smoked and roasted meat that they served nearest to the game stalls. She had acquired a series of various roasted legs and haunches from this place and had enjoyed each one.

Today, she had purchased a turkey leg, seasoned with something vaguely smokey, and she was set to enjoy it when, quite suddenly, she found herself set upon by a very small, very friendly dog. Judging by the way it was staring up at her turkey leg, and the niceness of its coat, it was clearly both owned and hoping to convince her it was starving. She smiled down at it and knelt--it still could only manage to prop itself up to her knee level, and tore off a piece for the dog.

"You are quite cute," Galadriel compliments. "For enlivening my morning, you may have a treat."

[letoldthingsdie]

Caedus was all too happy to accept the gift offered to him and happily devoured the meat as his new friend continued fawning over him. The life of a puppy was great, when you got treats and people to pet you wherever you went. It also didn't hurt it made his master make friends!

"Caedus, what are you doing?" Kylo almost looks put upon as the pup finds himself enjoying more food. He rubs the back of his neck, approaching the woman who was now the object of the mabari's affections. "I hope he isn't causing you trouble."

The pup was a master at getting things he wanted - specifically food. Kylo didn't spoil him too much, but he did have a soft spot for the dog. Untrained, he was a menace but he did try to learn whenever Kylo was there to command.

When he hears his master's voice, he immediately perks up and scampers back to his heels, tail wagging a mile a minute. He might be a cranky human at times but he was his human. It was only a good thing that he try to bring his human more friends, right? Friends with delicious food, to be precise.

[laurenande]

"Caedus? What an interesting name," Galadriel compliments as she rises again. If kneeling dirtied her white gown, it was impossible to tell in the bright sunlight. "He has caused me no trouble, worry not--"

Ah, but she has not met this person, or she thinks she has not. His voice sounds very familiar and she is not one to forget faces. She gives him a bit of a strange, considering look and arches a brow.

"Have I met you before? You seem familiar."

[letoldthingsdie]

"It means 'to sacrifice' or 'to kill'. Maybe not the most accurate name but he is a war hound and I thought a strong name would suit him best." Though he does feel a bit embarrassed now, having already heard from Rey her feelings on the name. She had thought it almost humorous that he named his dog 'killer', essentially.

He clears his throat, nodding at her next question. He may not have seen her face but her voice was familiar. That moment too was embarrassing for him. She'd surely remember his outburst on the network. He felt almost ashamed of it now, having most assuredly drawn attention to himself in his loss of temper.

"Kylo Ren. We spoke on the crystals once. And you are Galadriel? Your voice sounds familiar to me as well."