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

[nadasharillen]

"Oh, no," Nari says with great amusement. "Not this time. I saw Korrin there when I walked past the encampment, and while I adore her to no end if there's dancing going on she has an established precedent of encouraging me to enjoy myself right up onto a table. One time I apparently tried to teach all present a rollicking Dalish jig." She leans back with a chuckle. "By all accounts I did quite well right up until I jumped and stamped down for the finish and broke the table, which I know only because when I woke up ferociously hung over and oddly bruised the next day, I ended up with the work order for it."

Nari shakes her head and grins at Rey. "What's your excuse?"

[provenforce]

Rey laughs at Nari's story, trying to picture the slight elf breaking a table. She can't quite, but she's not one to disbelieve crazy stories, considering that she has some crazy stories of her own. At Nari's question she exhales, looking over towards where people are milling and laughing.

"I don't know how to dance?"

[nadasharillen]

"I can teach you a Dalish jig," she drawls dryly. The grin softens into a genuine smile soon after. "Perhaps there's someone there who doesn't mind?"

You know.

[provenforce]

She knows who Nari is hinting at, of course, and she can't help but roll her eyes a little even as she smiles.

"I don't know. We haven't discussed dancing." Rey has also been running around trying food and catching up with other people she knows. But dancing certainly hasn't come up.

[nadasharillen]

"Did you discuss kissing before you did it?" Nari asks cheekily, clearly in fine fettle from the excitement of the day despite having sought out a quiet unattended place to spend the evening. She leans over to nudge Rey's shoulder with her own, brief and playful, before going back to feeding the fire the curls of wood that are coming off her project.

"Truly though," she says, gesturing with the knife, "if it turns out you're better at it than he is then you've the chance to teach him and show off, if the opposite, then he's the chance to teach you and show off, and if you're evenly matched then it will immediately be rollicking fun and you can both show off. In all cases you've both learned something new about each other and have something new to share."

[provenforce]

Rey finds it hard to argue with that kind of logic, though the look on her face says for a moment she might try. She doesn't know why she's nervous about asking him about dancing, really. Sighing she bobs her head, letting out a small laugh.

"Okay, I'll talk to him." She smiles a little bit wider, leaning her shoulder back against Nari's "And maybe you should consider coming to join in with the dancing, even if you end up breaking another table."

[nadasharillen]

By the time she'd finished rather thoroughly explaining why Rey ought to just go and do it, Nari has realized that she's gone and trapped herself as well. The thought of going to look and see if Cade were there, even just to sit, makes her cheeks tingle, but she and Rey are enough alike that she knows her acquiescence to coming along would make a difference in the nerves that show on the woman's face.

Naturally, walking there with Rey would do the same for her. So she stands with a quiet groan, slipping her knife back into its sheath at her belt and tossing the stick she'd been meditatively destroying into the fire, and offers her a hand up.

"It's a deal."