OPEN | the grand tourney!

[poleaxed]

WHO: All Y'all.
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 Edgard.

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?

JUST TELL ME WHO WON ALREADY.fine, fine, jesus.

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 fight usually 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.)

THE OVERALL WINNER OF EVERYTHING:
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.)

[ooc Also final reminder that you don't have to have signed up for an event to have your character participate!!!]

Comments

[propulsion]

Tony's already grinning in return of bristle, his hands coming up to clasp her arms gently. The smile dials down quickly as he says, "You're right," and, "Personally I'm laying the blame down on the judges. He knocked me off my horse, that can't be legal.

"Did you see that, by the way? Were you, you know," his hands drift away again, restlessly hooking thumbs into waistband behind his hips, "super concerned for my safety and wellbeing? I won't tell anyone if you cried, circle of trust."

He has is fully ignoring the third wheel, which could be rude, and probably is rude, but it's less because his head is in his ass so much as his focus is centred on Joselyn wholly.

[obdurata]

The third wheel, by this point, has realized what they've become—and not without some amusement in it—but by the time Joselyn remembers she was talking to someone else, it's going to be moot. There's a friendly touch to her elbow that she does acknowledge, half-turning her head, the kind of automatic farewell that her brain will replay later, surprised, and then:

“I saw him beat you in the joust fair and square,” she says, with a good chin-lift and all, “so I want my earring back.”

A smile is trying very hard to happen, at the corner of her mouth.

[propulsion]

Yeah, he sees you, smile. Always the audience he's playing to.

But then his eyebrows go up. Excuse me. "What, this?" Tony queries, fishing said earring out from his pocket, the hook caught around over the knuckle of his little finger. He kind of drifts it out as if to hand it over before pulling his hand right back.

Hey look at that, his other hand has gotten a hold of her hand, pulling her in. In magic, they call that misdirection. "No take-backsies, sorry, I don't make the rules. Could give you back something else, though."

[obdurata]

Excuse me, her face says—it's a familiar look, by now, this is something her face has said to him any number of times and it has somehow almost never led to being excused—and her eyebrows go up, catching a hand against his shoulder and twisting her mouth pettishly to one side. It's technically more effective at hiding her smile, at the expense of being betrayed by how much effort it takes to do it.

“And what's that?”

—is a set up, and not, thank the Maker, Joselyn still managing to miss a cue that just about has its own parade. She might've been slow on the uptake, but she's set about catching up with the same verve she brought to hand sanitizer.

Slightly different verve than she brought to hand sanitizer.

[propulsion]

"You tell me."

And Tony risks the earring coming back into range by drawing her in, arm around her waist. There's a streak of dust he missed up around one eye, no nicks and scrapes that he didn't already have going in. He'd been fastidious with facial hair this morning, where the past month had gotten a little scruffy. These are the kinds of details that might become more apparent at this kind of range.

But maybe not. He's mainly looking at her eyes with his eyes, with maybe a little focus paid to the shape of her mouth. (It's a good mouth.)

"It was kind of a blur in the moment, but kinda sorta went something like," which is all just a lead in to kiss said mouth.

[obdurata]

The joust is done, and the crowds moving on, and this time they don't get a cheer but it's pretty good, anyway—there's no horse either, this time, no plate armor. On the whole, numerous positives to appreciate. Besides, it wouldn't do to get too accustomed to a roaring crowd.

“No,” she says, critically, pulling back just far enough to make eye contact, “I think you did it wrong, we're going to have to try again.”