faderift | 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

I think his skills might lie elsewhere, no matter how handsome he is. [ And it's far too easy to lean down and give him more pets; she's always found animals far more companionable than their human counterparts.

It does make Six look over the other things that are for sale, though, tilting her head curiously. ] Are cloaks the only thing you can purchase here?

[Garahel listens to them, but he doesn't seem to mind such assessment, especially when he's still getting attention. Those pets are met with happy grunts and a lick, that tail wagging happily.

Inessa shakes her head, gesturing to the tables and racks.] Cloaks make up a good deal of the inventory, but they also sell other enchanted garb. I think he said the tooled leather gloves are enchanted to keep hands warm in cool weather, and those boots don't leave behind any tracks. Some might be rift items, as but they weren't advertised as such.

[ It's desperately endearing - it's been a long time since Six has been able to wander around and be content like this, even with sore muscles and uncomfortable pressure between her shoulder blades. There's only so much physical labour you can take in a few days without some soreness being expected. ]

The boots would be useful. [ Especially since Six wants to venture out of Kirkwall and explore without being tethered to anyone. ] What is a Rift item?

Sometimes we find scattered items near a rift; it seems they are drawn forth from elsewhere, just as people. Not all are magical, but many are of a design or function unknown to us Thedosians. Otherwise unrelated, they are often thus lumped together...much like rifters themselves, I'm afraid.

[Inessa's smile is a touch apologetic, meaning no offense. She accepts a bag for the cloak for now, hoping that perhaps Teren will teach her how to alter it.]

Items like people, brought here by the same strange magic.

[ It's frustrating to think of the randomness of the Rifters, of how people are brought here seemingly without any true reason. The fact that her and her sister were brought to this place together is coincidence enough for Six to be eagerly suspicious of it, her frown settled and in place. ]

You do not have to feel bad for it. I've accepted that I am stuck here.

I suppose that's the only real option, for now. We'll see if there are others in time.

[Garahel still whines in sympathy as Inessa tucks the bag over one shoulder.]

Are you participating in any of the tourney events, or just here to spectate?

At least we are trying to do some good here, while we can.

[ She turns her head, smiling down at the dog fondly. ]

I'm taking part in as many as I am able. Unarmed, armed, joust and melee.

Ah, I will be observing all those events. [Since Kain insisted on joining them all.]

I'll be sure to look for you in them, and wish you luck. The only portion I plan to join is Magic Combat; it will be like Armed Combat, with fighting a creature of some kind.

I'd be glad to have you watching, then.

[ Since Inessa is close to something of a friend, she thinks, if she dares reach so far. ]

I wear my sister's favour - you'll be able to find me. [ As if her huge height wasn't enough. ] I will watch for you as well. I am sure you will perform well.

I'll give it my best effort, but I don't expect to last to the end. Some of the mages seem very experienced, though on the other hand I could stand to learn quite a lot from them.

[Inessa smiles, not a strongly competitive soul, not when it comes to the tourney. So she'll look on the bright side, whatever happens.]

Strength of heart is as important as strength of power. If you have faith that you will succeed then you will go father than you could have ever imagined.

[ It's a matter of having confidence and faith in your abilities, even if you think you cannot win. Always try, that's what Six believes. ]

[Garahel barks happily at that, wagging his tail. Resting a hand on his head, Inessa smiles.]

Words to live by. I plan to give it my best effort and I'd expect no less from anyone else involved. Whoever wins will truly have earned it, I'm certain.

[ The dog is precious and Six can't help but lean down to give him more pets and scratches, something like a smile on her face. ]

I will cheer for you all the same. You have my earnest offer of good luck. I'm sure he feels the same.

MOD PLOT: NOT ALONE DO WE STAND, PART 1

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