Steppe Tourney

by Valdir Sat Jul 27, 2013 7:43 am

I'm thinking of hosting a tournament next week, before the Governor is elected.

Spoiler:

I'll create it on monday/tuesday if enough people like the idea. I won't send out messengers, so you'll have to assume everyone knows..if you want to champion any of your soldiers (you may not do so and simply enjoy the feast) just mention it in the arriving post.

This will become the IC thread, so post any OOC comments in the already existing OOC threads.

Current List of participants:

by Valdir Tue Jul 30, 2013 4:53 am

As migrants, attracted by the wealth of the march and its Count's position as interim-Governor, settled around the tourney grounds, makeshift tents, ripped by the recent storm, were replaced with taverns, brothels, inns and houses of wood and stone. The exit of every arena was surrounded by taverns and pleasure houses to attract not only the rich noble competitors, but also the rich guests. Signs as 'Dragonfyre's meadhouse' and 'Damsels in Distress' became more common as the tournament drew closer.

The people of the new villages, who combined housed all the tourney's arena's, were still busy constructing houses in the outer rings and farms in the fields beyond, when the official announcement of the tourney was pinned down on the notice boards by representatives of Count Valdir and the Barons of the combined villages, Farlen Bracken and Pylos Norrey. From this day one, the village welcomed participants from the entire known world, although Valdir doubted a tourney from the insignificant Steppe would attract many outside Pendor. In addition to welcoming them, the Manor of Pylos Norrey would function as the place where able men and women could sign up for either of the three competitions.
The Manor of Farlen Bracken would welcome any of the lords of the Steppe if they would travel the distance to Talon March themselves. Count Valdir had decorated and supplied that Manor from his own residence's personal stock and the most hospitable servants had been assigned to do their every bidding.

In the last days before the tourney, blacksmiths and fletchers set up tents in the fields designated for tourney participants in anticipation of work in fixing armor and sharpening arrows. Captain Rabastan kept an eye on any illegal activity and was sure to issue a tax on every gamble that would occur through the recently arrived bookies and merchants whose trade was vaguely left in the dark.

by Pravenstern Wed Jul 31, 2013 4:47 am

Among the first parties to arrive was a delegation from Ravenfort. The rather small party was led by none other than the marshal Jonson. Being carried by similiar armored wagons as Quiris used, the group could have passed for travelling merchants, save for the small symbols on the sides.

They proceeded to set up their camp near the edges of the village, out of the eyes of most visitors. Whether this was because it would be easy to leave later or the group being out of other people's way was anyone's guess. After the make-shift camp was set, five people separated themselves from the group to go their own ways into the area. Three of them went to the manor of Pylos Norrey to sign up as representatives of Ravenfort:

Spoiler:

The marshal himelf, escorted by a single heavily armoured knight, made his way to the Count of the area, Valdir Bazzano. Although, it would take some time, and others might be there too.

by Tysha Wed Jul 31, 2013 6:11 am

<snip>

by Psychozoa Wed Jul 31, 2013 6:35 am

A small group entered the city just shortly after noon. 3 Men were riding ahead of a Horse-Cart which was fully loaded. Two of the men were heavily armored and the third one looked like a Ranger with his hood covering nearly his whole face. But somehow only the man on the Horse-Cart caught the eyes of the people. He was clad in plain green linen but with delicate strings of Gold woven into it. He seemed to smile all the time even though the cart swayed heavily on the cobblestone below.

They reached the Blacksmiths and the other Merchants after a short while. The Cart stopped and the one leading it jumped down to walk towards the three riders.

"I will go register you for the tournament, thereafter I will go to Lord Valdirs residence. I will see you in the Tourney next. Good Luck!"

With that the men turned and left for the Manor of Pylos Norrey. He entered and put a short list on the table, with 3 names on it.

"These are the three Champions of Silverwood Edge."

Joust: Derrel Toernooi
Archery: Valon Boogsiet
Melee: Dolf Nabygeveg

He said nothing more but only turned and left again, heading for the Manor of Farlen Bracken.

OOC: Do you open up another thread for the Talking during the Tournament? It seems I am the only one here right now.

by Sir Nickolas Wed Jul 31, 2013 7:09 am

A lone rider approached the tournament grounds. He was heavily armored and had a massive sword on his person, how he wields it, if at all, remains uncertain.

However, as he rode along, he caught many a sight as fair maidens advertised themselves in front of their establishments. He pointed to one he took a liking of, and declared, "I win tournament, and fun times will be had! Ha ha!"

The girl in question simply blew a kiss back before waving as the warrior departed. He went to stable his horse, named "Invincible", and then wandered about the grounds. The workers were still polishing up and adding the final touches before the event would finally begin. However, the man didn't seem to realize that...

"Where are opponent! I bash, aim, and poke thee! I are win! I are win!"

He looked around in the empty grounds, seeing no one came to challenge him. He didn't seem to notice that some of the workers paused in their task to look at their new-found entertainment.

"No foe to fight? I win! I are winner! I win, yes?"

The armored man began cheering in the empty field, pumping his fists in the air and running around as much as his equipment would let him. One of the workers, embarrassed by his antics, went up to him and informed the man that the tournament hasn't started yet. He had to sign up first and wait.

"Sign? Is this writing tournament? I am no write person!"

After some time, with the assistance of the other workers, the knight finally saw reason.

"I head to big house! Sign up me! Sign, Sign!"

The man left the grounds and the people there returned to work.

Eventually, after bumbling around town, the knight finally reached the manor of Pylos Norrey. The attendant there guided him through the process. There were three tournements, one for the melee, one for jousting, and the other for archery.

"Sign me for all three! I dominate competition!"

The attendant patiently smiled and pointed to the quill and inkwell. The knight then grabbed the quill and began to scratch the parchment. He didn't put any ink on it.

"Why this no work! No stuff come out! Nothing!"

The attendant then gently obtained the quill, dipped it in the inkwell, and gave it back to the knight. He was instructed to write his name for the tournaments he wanted to participate in.

"Right! I want three! All three! So, I place this here..."

The armored man placed the quill on the parchment, but struggled to make anything legible. When he was finished, it was merely a bunch of lines and inkblots.

"I are win! I ready for bashing, poking, and aiming!"

The knight began to leave, but the attendant, glancing at the parchment, sighed and called for him to return. The attendant then asked the knight's name so that it could recorded for the normal people to read.

"Name? I am Bob The Mighty! I crush many Mystmountains in my time, and pleasure many woman! I are winner and champion of Duskfall Sanctuary, ha ha!"

Bob The Mighty left the manor to find something to do while he waited for the festivities to begin. If only the people of Duskfall knew he ran off to represent them in the tournament...

by Shadow-Seeker Thu Aug 01, 2013 1:36 am

Following the other contesants was a lone rider bearing the coat of Isenfeld. He wore a grey suit of half-plate, on his back a longbow and a round shield, while by his side was a long sword.

He entered the tournament grounds and dismounted, getting straight to the point for what he was there for.

One of the people there pointed at him, ruining any chance he had for disguise, and shouted out

"Oi! That's William Malone! The Grey Archer of Mistmire!"

People started crowding around, and starting ooh'ing at him.

William, his identity exposed, sighed and picked up the pace to go to sign-up sheet. He signed up for the archery and melee tournaments.

by Tysha Sat Aug 03, 2013 3:55 am

Three retainers of the Countess of Evasolde arrived for the tourney wearing the heraldry of the liege. Sir Ulric of Evasolde, a tall man with a handsome face, entered the joust. Sir Brackar, a broad-shouldered man with a scar on his cheek and a bastard sword over his back, signed up for the melee. Sir Marken the Centuar, a horse archer of minor renown and knighted following the defeat of a Silvermist force, entered the archery contest.

A polite note explaining the absence of the Countess was delivered to Count Bazzano by Sir Ulric, who promptly excused himself from the presence of his social betters.

by Valdir Tue Aug 06, 2013 5:38 am

In the morning of the tourney's first day, the crowd gathered on a field just south of the combined villages of East- and West-Talon. It was the morning of the official start and large decorative fires had burned through the night and illuminated the villages to celebrate the first tourney of the Steppe.
First up was the archery competition, with special attention to Logna's master fletcher and the minstrel's tale of how brave Alden faced off and killed a dangerously aggressive bear during a daring hunt for ravaging wolves. The count of Talon March enjoyed the re-enactment from his seat on the raised platform where he sat together with his noble guests and representatives of the absent Steppe nobility. Some seats were empty, however, and it was soon common knowledge that not all lords of the Steppe had honored their Interim-Governor with at least a representative.

Nine archers took their first shot of the day at a target only 10 feet away. Missing meant elimination, as the all knew. Arrows were fired, yet when the tension broken, so did Sigrid Bowstrung. The lad from the former Fierdsvain fell to his knees in tears, for his arrow had missed its target. But he wasn't the only one to miss in the first round, Civalin Vidae and William Malone both were unlucky representing their noble lords in the archery competition. Their shots narrowly missed, but they did miss.
With only six contestants to go, the targets were moved back to 25 feet as the remaining archers readied themselves for a second shot. This time it was Talon March's own champion and feller of bears that could not rival the marksmanship of the others, he missed the center by a couple of inches. Unlucky gamblers kicked the ground and cursed their naivety. The smallfolk claimed it was overconfidence that was Alden's fall, for any proud Talon knew how to hit a target at 25 feet.
Five remained, but the third round was soon to be a disaster as all the gamblers lost heavily and a certain swine made sure they paid whatever debt they made. At 50 feet, all missed. The adventurous Wylla, the mighty Bob, Valon Boogsiet, the centaur and even Kriss of Sheastrom, who had bested every ranger in Senderfall's tourney last month. After a short discussion with the Count of the march, it was decided that all of them would loose another arrow at the target in the fourth round. Five arrows went into the air at exactly the same moment, but this time the difficult shot was mastered by the winning marksman of the day, Sir Marken the Centaur of Evasolde. The crowd cheered and losing gamblers were overheard that they should have known better than to bet against a champion of Lady Tysha the Lucky.

by Valdir Sun Aug 11, 2013 9:32 pm

[ooc: I'll write something at a later date, but the winners can use the prize money in the weekly Orders that are due today.]

Victory in the Melee goes to: Wyssan Cor! The Champion of Count Quiris Corax

Victory in the Joust goes to: Bob the Mighty! The Champion of Count Simon Lane

(Victory in the Archery goes to: Sir Marken the Centaur! The Champion of Lady Tysha Abaddon)

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