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Entry tags:
- abby,
- benedict quintus artemaeus,
- byerly rutyer,
- derrica,
- edgard,
- ellis,
- loki,
- loxley,
- marcus rowntree,
- petrana de cedoux,
- wysteria de foncé,
- { adrasteia },
- { allumin etsija },
- { emet-selch },
- { erik stevens },
- { gabranth },
- { james holden },
- { jone },
- { margaery tyrell },
- { sidony veranas },
- { tony stark }
OPEN | the grand tourney!
WHO: All Y'all.
WHAT: It's the Grand Tourney! Like a normal Tourney, but grand.
WHEN: August Now.
WHERE: Kirkwall.
NOTES: Sports... injuries?
WHAT: It's the Grand Tourney! Like a normal Tourney, but grand.
WHEN: August Now.
WHERE: Kirkwall.
NOTES: Sports... injuries?
Every thousand days, the Grand Tourney is organized in the Free Marches, and all the City States-- and even challengers from farther abroad-- come together to celebrate the freedom of the Marches. This year, the event was intended to take place in Tantervale.
When that, uh, fell apart, the tourney was hastily moved to the relative safety of Kirkwall.
Festivities begin early, with musicians and entertainers coming from all around to entertain lords and ladies as they set up tents. Food vendors complete the picnic atmosphere-- you may not be able to get a seat in the stands, but the hills around where the field where it all takes place makes the event easily viewed by all. Jesters, bards, troubadours, food vendors, all are happy to serve and make the event lively and lovely-- for a price.
The first event is the Joust. The announcer goes through everyone's names, their origins, the part they play, so the crowd knows who to root for and who to boo. Before the individual bouts begin, the jousters are expected to ride around the field collecting favors.
The second event is the Quintain. A similar setup to the Joust takes place, with announcements and cheering, gaining favors, etc. The major difference-- besides the content of the event itself-- is the hastily erected judge's stand, where they can view the skills of each comptetitor. Some scores are met with cheers, some with boos. Some competitors schmooze with the judges before their bout. It's all very classy.
In the intermission guests are invited to play a game of tug-of-war over two large piles of flowers and flower petals. As the loosers will discover, there's a pit of mud underneath the flowers. Hopefully you brought a second pair of clothes, or maybe you just don't care
If tug-of-war isn't your game, there's drunken archery. Darktown's very best (worst) booze has been generously donated (appropriated) for the event. One shot to begin, and more shots for every subsequent shot of your bow. Landing closer to bullseye garners more points, and prizes can be collected for high point scores. Nothing particularly valuable, it's more like carnival fare-- stuffed toys, shiny gems (they are colored glass), wood carved in various shapes (some lewd). The most expensive prize is a hangover cure potion (it does not work).
The final event is the ever-popular Melee, where several one-on-one matches take place simultaneously, until someone is either undefeated or the least defeated. As with previous events, each combatant is announced to the crowd and expected to walk around the stands, receiving favors. However, they're expected to do this between every match in the melee, as their popularity rises... or falls.
During all of this, the ever-noble Pas d'Armes event is taking place. If you wander away from the event at any time, Gabranth will be there, at a nearby bridge, judging and / or fighting anyone who wishes to pass. Of course, if you wish to pass without issue, he will accept a favor from you. At the end, he'll be crowned with a white wreath of flowers, in a 'peace offering', and that is the sign that the tourney is done.
Not counting the partying into the night. No medieval camping trip is complete without waking up half clothed in a field, right?
THE JOUST
1st Place: Tony Stark, The Iron Man (Erroneously called 'The Man of Iron' at least once by an announcer. Several people in the stands asked if he was made of iron, why he was called that, what is he doing, why.)
2nd Place: Weary Winona of Wycome (Never took off her helm, which was shaped like a woman's face and painted like she was crying.)
3rd Place: 'Sir Sullivan of Bonneville'(Who might just be Edgard in disguise, however legend has it he's actually an undead noble trying to reclaim his family's honor in the joust. This legend was started by Jone.)
Crowd Favorite: Ellis, The Bachelor (He was, at one point, mostly just a mass of favors, which may have been why he didn't rank. The crowd screamed his name repeatedly and at one point threw flowers at him while he was riding past.)
THE QUINTAIN
1st Place: Derrica, the Rivaini Raider (The chant 'carry me home' began during her bout, and continued whenever she walked near the field.)
2nd Place: Derek, Son of Derek, of the Ostwick Dereks (The 'carry me home' chant continued during his bout, as some confusion arose over whether Derrica was a distant relation of the Ostwick Dereks.)
3rd Place: Madame Noir of Hasmal (A ghostly pale woman wearing only a black gown during her match, there were rumors she'd bribed the judges with money or a low neckline.)
Crowd Favorite: Beth Greene, The Lady of the Green (Rumor has it that she was a wild woman who came from the forests just to compete. This rumor was also started by Jone.)
THE MELEE
1st Place: Pierre the Virtuous of Hambleton (On a particularly sunny day, some suspect he only won because the reflection from his bald head.)
2nd Place: 'The Dark Jaguar' (Who may be Erik Stevens in disguise. A nighttime assassin, he appears from nowhere during a fightusually with the aid of a conveniently placed piece of hanging black fabric but shhhh.)
3rd Place: Laura, Lady Nightshade (Rumor has it she threw her fight to get third place, but everybody who knows Laura knows she'd never do that... right?)
Crowd Favorite: 'The Acolyte' (A young man of roughly the same height and build as Benedict Artemaeus, the crowd really responded to how nervous, yet trying to be brave, he looked.)
Ser John 'the Anointed John' Pembroke of Tantervale
...who trained for this every day and is a professional Tourneyman, and whose win for Tantervale really lifted the spirit of the game to a high note, so how can we be bitter, really.
(Note to 1st placers in other events: this means he beat you in your event.)
https://pics.me.me/kids-could-you-lighten-up-a-littlet-37350052.png
She could bring a lot to the Research division. She would be able to see through situations with clarity and understand what the right thing is. But one of the first things he really learned about their enemies is what they do with rifters.
"If something happened to her here — "
He would die, so much more surely than anything happening to him.
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“It would be unbearable.” He manages at last, finishing where Jim Holden left off. A gap filled with his own determinations.
His own, stony brand of inexpressive dread.
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"It's not just her," he says at last, crossing his arms loosely. "If my crew is safe, I can handle anything Thedas has to throw at me." He says crew, and he means family. "You call me captain, but I'm not captain of anything here. No ship, and no crew. But if there's a way to protect them, even if it's just hoping no one comes back here, I'll do it."
He has no power over the Fade, of course. He has no control over who might or might not ever show up. The idea of bearing the brunt of their war for his loved ones is a fantasy, and he knows that. But it's the kind of fantasy that gets him out of bed in the mornings, so it's not without power.
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To safeguard them from afar. To think of them, and their well-being, and all that they require to live in peace. It is odd, and not uncomfortably so, to think they are more similar than he’d ever initially believed.
Their customs and approaches are different. Their means and methods, their beliefs, their strengths—
Yet at the heart of it all, their reflections are unique.
“For as long as you act for their sake, they are not lost to you.”
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"That's the idea, anyway."
The title doesn't mean anything to him but a means to protect them. And while it can feel like a cold comfort on bad days — ones less blessed with sunlight, and the sounds of off-key singing — keeping people he's lost close in this way is the only, best way he's ever figured out how to do so.
Then he shakes his head.
"You should get back to the celebration." Conspiratorially, "The ale's terrible, but if you drink enough of it, you stop noticing."
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A lingering press of snared sentiment, given before the moment fades— before Holden has the opportunity to wave it all away with but a shake of his head, and Gabranth cedes once more to his own dour bearing.
“I do not drink, but I thank you for the suggestion. What will you do from here?”
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"There are a few more people I'd like to congratulate before going anywhere."
Derrica, for instance, killing it at the Quintain. But he's not intending to stay the rest of the night, even to enjoy the party.
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No objection is held in regards to the notion that Holden might not linger beyond the most immediate scope of this celebration, necessary as it is for the greater populace; Gabranth, after all, can claim no better. Before moonlight crests high overhead, he'll be gone, returned to Kirkwall most like. Returned to duty, and all its demands.
Or so he intends.
"Enjoy what remains of your evening, Captain."
There is, beneath the rest, the slightest emphasis placed on the word Captain. Holden's to ignore— or take note of.