faderift | MOD PLOT: NOT ALONE DO WE STAND, PART 1

MOD PLOT: NOT ALONE DO WE STAND, PART 1

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Hanzo doesn't pay attention at first, automatically assuming that whoever is calling out is speaking to someone who isn't him, but he can't ignore the dwarf coming up to his side with a metal box in her hand. Frowning, he pauses, not wanting to engage... But it doesn't seem he has much in the way of choice.

The question makes his lips twitch, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes for a moment. He does not want attention brought to himself and yet here he is, being shouted at by someone who clearly has no understanding of politeness, decorum or pride. It's close to insulting.

"I am from Tevinter." Vint. Rude and childish. "What do you want?"

Rude? Yes. Childish? Definitely. But Vint is two syllables less than Tevinter so get used to it, buddy. It's faster to say.

And speaking of fast, he gets straight to the point, which is what Minka was hoping for here. She pops back the lid of the box to reveal a simple stone nestled inside. However, on the underside of the lid is some writing.

"I won a game and the guy gave me this as a prize. Said the lid had a description on what the rock's supposed to do, but I'd have to find someone who could read Tevene to translate it." Never mind that if it was written in Common, she'd still need someone to read it for her. She's illiterate.

Hanzo does not look the least bit impressed by the woman at his side - and he would be quite happy to walk away as if there had not been any interaction at all.

Eyes flick down to the box, however, and Hanzo drinks it in, looking it over. It is Tevene, that's obvious enough, and he can read it even without a close examination, but he's not feeling in the mood to be particularly generous to someone who has shouted at him from across the area and demanded he do something for her.

"Then you should find someone willing to read it for you." He turns his attention back to the magic, eyes flicking over the combatants. "There are many visitors from Tevinter here today that may be able to help you."

She gets that a lot, seeing how she's the least impressive person ever. Plus she was raised by the Carta, which kind of gives a new meaning to being treated like chopped liver. Therefore his disregard doesn't even faze her.

"Sure, but they're all up there cheering and stuff. But you're out here all by your lonesome. Almost like you don't want any of them to notice you." Sorry, but your constant moving in the back and avoiding all contact is so easy to read even Minka picks up on it.

There's a certain level of politeness and dancing around one another that Hanzo expects, mostly because of his upbringing and how he was raised. Everything he did was a give and take, a trade, a barter, and old habits die hard. There's very little he can do to shrug that off and pretend as though it really has been ten years since he was a Magister.

"Is that what you think?" That's certainly not endearing her to Hanzo, and he looks even more tense, his eyes closing for a moment. "That does not mean I am willing to do this for you."

Ugh. Vints are all so stuffy, but they also all know Tevene, so she's stuck between a rock and a hard place here.

"Then what would make you willing?" She's won a few other prizes, but she's not sure if he's in need of a backscratcher or wool socks. Maybe if they made a device to pull sticks out of asses, she could give him one of those.

And people outside of Tevinter are rude and coarse and ridiculous, but Hanzo is managing to bite his tongue somewhat. He's only being polite - as much as he can muster - for fear of being reported to the Scoutmaster and being punished for not being 'helpful to the Inquisition'.

"Politeness, perhaps." Hanzo faces forward again, set on ignoring her and focussing on the matches ahead of him. "Perhaps treating your fellows as people rather than tools."

"Oh." Shit. Politeness isn't taught in the Carta. It's either being tough enough to mouth off and defend yourself (not Minka's strong suit) or grovel and hope you don't get punished. She's better at that. The problem with groveling is that it's pretty obvious.

"Well, I figured you could do it quick and then you wouldn't miss anything out there. But, um, I'm Minka." This is how you act like a normal functioning person, right? Because Minka hasn't mastered that yet.

"Hello. What's your name?"

It must seem like such a strange, petty thing to her, when Hanzo had been a stranger adrift from all the other men from Tevinter, but it's something that's been drilled into him since his youth. Politeness, as thinly veiled as it might be, must come first. Then deals and trades can be borne, even from those that you loathe without secrecy.

"You figured wrong." He had spent his life being used as a tool. He'd at least know the name of the stranger making demands of him, to add her to a list. He does not offer a hand for her to shake nor a bow in greeting - just a nod.

"Hanzo Shimada."

Wow, what a weird name. It kind of sounds like a sneeze to her. Must be a Tevinter thing.

But now she closes the lid back on the box and shoves it under her arm. It sure is unfortunate that the response to trying to get stupid Tevene translated is a manners lesson.

"You having fun watching the matches, Hanzo?"

Hanzo turns his attention back towards the matches, his eyes dragging over all the contestants, looking at their powers, their strengths, their spells and what they choose to do. There's something about him that screams a desire, a yearning, to take part, but he shakes his head.

"I am enjoying the sport, yes. It has been a long time since I saw any of my people fight like this."

"Cuz you ain't been in Tevinter for awhile?" she asks, having pretty much the opposite reaction to him in spectating these matches. It takes everything in her not to outwardly wince as she sees the spells fly. She's a dwarf; the antithesis of magic. Even her own hand scares her with the anchor sitting there. But these spells conjured from nothing freak her out because she'll never understand it all.

"Yes. It has been many years." Not that he intends to tell her much more than that. There's no reason to, after all, to tell her everything. Even if he aches when he looks at his countrymen, he left for a very good reason. He couldn't allow himself to remain, not after everything that had happened. "They will not harm you."

Minka glances up at him, guessing she's pretty easy to read. That or he assumes all southerners are scared of Vints.

"It's the magic. Like I know it's not all bad, but I'm a dwarf... uh, obviously, so I don't get it. It's just this... weird, unknowable thing. Maybe it's like Stone sense. I don't have that either." But when Minka is freaked out by something, her natural instinct is to protect herself against it. That mindset is hard to break through, and though it makes sense that the Vints wouldn't cause a scene here, she doesn't feel comfortable approaching a large group of them. They'd probably be as standoffish as this one.

"Do you guys speak Tevene when you're all together? Cuz us surface dwarves don't speak dwarven." And she doesn't really care what Orzammar dwarves do.

Years of training in bartering, deals and trade had made Hanzo quick to pick up on things, and she was not trying to hide her emotions. His own face barely changes as he nods his head.

"It is different in Tevinter. Everything is surrounded by magic. If you are born into a family with magical power then you are given status, power, wealth. Otherwise? You work for them with all that you have." He had been one of the former, once, a Magister with the world at his feet and power explosive and dangerous in his hands. It had been a long time since then and while he clung to his control... He did not use it. He could not, not after what he had done.

"Sometimes. It depends on the purpose and the company. If they are meeting only people from Tevinter then the tongue will do, but if others are involved then Trade is beneficial."

"Must be a big change to see magic being treated different down here." If she was him, she would have ran back to the familiar. But that's what she's always done. As badly as she's been treated in the past, she always goes back, because it's all she knows. "Being stuck with the Inquisition was a big change for me. Things are done different in the Carta." At first she tried to hide her connections to the organization, but she's let up since then. It's not like she's high ranking in it.

"Yeah, you guys do business with dwarves a lot. Dwarves came up with Trade to help make it easier for everybody."

"Perhaps at first. I am accustomed to it now." It's not as though he's treated like a mage here. He's a member of the Inquisition as a scout, formally, with no ties to anything magical or otherwise. Some research into him and his name would reveal his past, of course, but he leaves that to anyone who might have control over him or distrust him so completely that they have to know everything about him. At least some secrets will be kept hidden no matter what.

"It has made things easier, but Tevene is still the favoured tongue." Pausing, he hesitates before he holds out a hand. "The box."

It's only when she hears him say he's accustomed to it and Minka realized she's become accustomed to the Inquisition too in most ways. She's still a socially awkward ball of anxiousness, thinking everyone's out to get her until they prove otherwise, but the amount of time she stays suspicious of people has lessened.

Surprised at the offer, she takes the box out from under her arm and tries not to look too hopeful because that's a weakness. "No fooling?" Because she's been tricked before. It's sort of standard in the Carta that if anyone is nice to you, they're only doing it to pull the rug out from under you and laugh about it later.

Hanzo knows about being suspicious and being careful - he has spent the last ten years cultivating his own ability to read and escape situations where he might be putting himself in trouble. It had come easier than some things, true enough, but that did not mean that it was always the simplest of tasks. Sometimes, and he knows this well, the past can catch up to you.

Reaching out, he takes the box and lifts the lid to look at the Tevene. His lips twitch, just a little, before he translates it for her.

"You bind this to your voice. Once that is done, dropping or throwing the rock inside will make it start to scream like a bird of some kind until you command it to stop."

Minka's brow furrows immediately on hearing that. Who in their right mind would come up with a screaming rock? It's probably a case of Vints running out of shit to enchant that was useful and just grabbing anything handy to make it annoying.

"Does it say how to bind it to your voice?"

"The same way you bound your crystal to yourself."

He doesn't hesitate in handing the box back to her. Hanzo, at least, has no use for a rock that is going to scream at him and he imagines that she would take afford to his trying to keep it anyway. He has better things to stock himself with, he's sure.

"Perhaps it would be useful as an alarm, or a distraction in a fight."

She takes back the box and stares down at the harmless looking little thing. Testing it is going to require traveling alone outside of Kirkwall, she thinks. No need to alert everyone while just testing it.

"Well, it's weird, but I can see it being used for that. I can at least guard my stuff." Now that she's finally acquiring her own stuff. In the Carta nothing was truly hers, but in the Inquisition she gets a salary and can buy her own things outside of supplies to live.

Closing the lid, she then looks up at Hanzo, knowing what she has to say. Yet it's so foreign to her that she shifts from foot to foot awkwardly. Thank yous were usually forced out of her by a higher up in the Carta who was making her do it for something they shouldn't have been thanked for. Needless to say, she has a warped sense of all this stuff.

"Thanks. For reading it. And, um, I'm... sorry, about before." She looks down at the box, trying to explain herself while wishing for the ground to swallow her. "They didn't really, um, teach us manners in the Carta. It's... It's new. And-- And the person thing. I mean, I'll remember it. We're all tools in the Carta, so it's another new thing for me: that people are people and not tools." Her cheeks are red with embarrassment, because she's really not sure this is how you "people," but an Attempt Was Made.

It's a lesson learned, Hanzo thinks, and it settles around him like a comfortable weight. It might be a small, boring thing, but it's something good - one of the few good things he has done in a very long time. He's aware that it might seem silly and foolish to anyone else, but... He has done a good thing and he's proud of himself.

"I doubt it was intended to be anything more, not if you won it here. A unique, interesting item more than anything else." Hanzo nods his head. It'll be useful for protecting herself and her things if nothing else - and he has his own little prizes to keep in his pocket as well.

The thanks come as something of a shock and he pauses, hesitating, eyes widening with a flick of his eyes before he breathes out. He's not entirely comfortable with it, a strange new feeling settling around him, but he manages something akin to a smile.

"... You're welcome. There is no need to apologise - you made up for your mistake. I am glad that you have found something here that interests you."

Minka shrugs awkwardly, but the bit of a smile she receives suggests she's done all right and she bobs her head in a nod, lips pressed together in a way that might suggest a smile too.

"Yeah, a couple of the games are rigged, but others aren't, and I've been winning stuff so that's nice. Food's real good too. And you like watching the magic, huh? So... stuff here for everybody, yeah?"

"There is something for everyone. The games are childish, for the young, but there are some prizes that are best suited for the adults." Hanzo nods his head, feeling a smile tugging at his features. It's the kind of game that Genji might have liked... But Genji is not here. It brings Hanzo down.

"You have not taken part in the events yourself?"

MOD PLOT: NOT ALONE DO WE STAND, PART 1

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