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.

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It might be because he's had at least one drink already that he's more openly affectionate, or just the fact that Rey is with him and they're not stressed about anything for once. It was like their date when they'd gotten food together and just walked around Kirkwall.

"Hm. If you say so." She did look more filled out, but he doubted he'd have any trouble still. He worked out consistently enough, as she well knew. He takes a moment just taking in her dress, smiling to himself as they stand together. The moment is broken by another happy couple laughing and slow dancing together.

He wasn't a fan of dancing, but he knew how to do it. His hand moves up her bare arm, his finished kebob stick tossed aside as he moves into her space and drops his hand from her arm to her waist. The music was drifting out around them, drowning out the ambient sounds of nature on the outskirts of the camp site.

"Do you want to dance with me?" He presses his forehead to hers, the hand not on her waist taking her opposite hand from the side on which he held onto her.

Rey had thought he was just pulling her closer in his obvious slightly inebriated affection. She's surprised again when he asks her to dance. biting her lip a little she tilts her head slightly- not enough to pull her forehead away from his, but enough so she can glance away from him.

"I don't know how. But if you don't mind your feet being stepped on, I'd be willing to give it a shot." Who knows, she might even not be terrible at it because of their connection.

"I'll teach you. It's not too hard when you get used to the steps. Just watch my feet a few times to figure out where yours go." He tucks a stray hair behind her ear, just looking at her and hoping his confidence will put her at ease. "Though, I admit I am a bit rusty. We might both end up being garbage at this."

Carefully, he puts her opposite hand to his shoulder and puts his hand back to her waist. He begins guiding their movements, nudging her feet so that she knew when to take a step back when his foot came forward. After a while he stopped guiding her, on guard for stepped on toes as they danced in a slow circle together and swaying a little in time with the music that drifted to them among the festivities.

Edited 2018-05-31 22:06 (UTC)

Once she'd recoiled at the idea of him teaching her anything. Now she just smiles, letting him guide her. She keeps her eyes down at first, watching their feet carefully, but she also picks it up quickly. She's always been a fast learner, and learning from him was always something that seemed to come to her like breathing. They shared thoughts so easily, it's hard not to pick up on even little things.

"Not too different from battle," she comments after her eyes have lifted to his, more focused on the music and him than her feet. She could get used to this. "A little slower, but the way you move your feet is still important."

"Sometimes I think I prefer battle." His lips curl at the edges with the hint of a smile. "Though I think maybe I just had the wrong dance partner."

He couldn't help but swell with pride as she managed to pick up their slow dance. Matching her movements came as easily as breathing. They were two halves of a whole, at times like this. How lucky he should be to find himself such a radiant partner. He'd never seen her in a dress before today and he found he liked seeing her in them. Maybe in a different life they could have been like this back home too. The thought actually made him feel a little gloomy.

"You're a fast learner." He supplies a compliment, trying to shake off the sudden invasion on his good mood. They had no idea if or when they would go home. He and Rey were building something here and he was happy enough with that. The rest didn't matter.

"Have you found the right one, yet?" she teases as she slides her hand so she can lean a little closer to him, dancing without distance between them like some of the others surrounding them. Her hand curls around the back of his neck, and she bites her lip at his compliment. The gloomy mood had flickered past, but she's too happy in this moment to indulge it, and she won't let him, either.

"I've always had to be. Though it helps to have the right teacher."

He lets go of her hand that he'd been holding out beside them to slip both of his arms around her and draw her into him as they dance. He tucks his head low to ghost his lips over hers, indulging in the little stolen moment they've found themselves in.

"We can teach each other. I learn things from you just as much as you do from me." He speaks, just barely pressing his lips to hers before kissing her forehead. The music still carried the two of them as they danced and talked with one another in their own little corner of the world. No one seemed to care that two rifters were wrapped up in one another and that was just fine with him.

She wraps both her arms around his neck as they dance, smiling against his lips as he kisses her lightly, before leaning a little more into him.

"I like that. The balance between us." It had been something she'd felt even in their earliest encounters, that odd push and pull, that there was all that potential between them. That they're utilizing it now, it feels right.

"I do too. It feels... right, I think." He holds her close as the both step together, blissfully unaware of the world around them. He'd questioned what their bond meant back when he first arrived and if she'd ever open it up to him again. Now he couldn't imagine being anywhere else but beside her, their thoughts and feelings reflecting back at one another with ease just as they stepped together with ease.

Sighing in contentment, he just lets himself relax and his hands rub her back. He could be teaching her more dancing but he liked this, the two of them just holding one another while they simply danced together. It wasn't as if they even needed the music anymore. They were making their own, in a sense.

She just smiles as he says that their balance feels right. It had taken a lot of pushing and pulling from both of them, but they'd more or less ended up here. Together, in this moment. Finding that common ground of their compassion for one-another, and the balance between them.

Resting her head against his chest she closes her eyes, letting him guide her, though this kind of dance is one she doesn't need to memorize fancy steps for.

He tucks his chin above her head automatically once she fits herself against his chest. She would hear how steady his heartbeat was in his chest and feel it rise and fall with his lungs as he drew breath. He could feel her breathe too. They were both at peace and he could practically feel it within the Force, the warmth of life passing between them and around them keeping him grounded.

"See? You worried about dancing for nothing. My toes are still working and everything." He smiled, dipping his chin to kiss the crown of her head.

"Of course, this dance is easy. Were this a real fancy party there'd be some ridiculous dance that required more steps than anyone could possibly remember," she replies a little cheekily, but making no move to step away from him or attempt to make the dancing more complicated.

She likes it like this.

"You mean with twirls and things? I figured I'd go easy on you." He smiles against the top of her head before adjusting his chin to rest atop it again. "Anything too complex and your toes will probably hate you tomorrow and I'm not that amazing of a dancer, despite being able to teach you this much."

"Any plans for the rest of the evening?" He was fine with just this, just them and nothing more or less than that. It was nice just to be here and, beyond that, with her.

She kind of thinks learning the more complex dances wouldn't be horrible, with him as a dance partner. Tonight is nice, too, thought. At his question she shakes her head, shifting so she can look up at him with a smile.

"I'm all yours." She'd spent enough time making the rounds with her friends. She wanted to spend time with him.

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MOD PLOT: NOT ALONE DO WE STAND, PART 1

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