Laketown Circus and Tournament: The Joust

Laketown Circus and Tournament: The Joust
Summary: Valiant knights of the North and the South face each other in the lists, which doesn't keep the attending spectators from exchanging confidential messages and whispered words of confidence.
Date: 20/07/2013
Related: Other Logs from the Laketown Circus and Tournament
Players:
Jerric Niniane Amira Alek Eldrick Morla Xander Deidra Pawel Tamara Regina Sammel Prada Cassia Sarah Roltoff Thomas Tylon 

Open Field, Laketown
The tournament field has been set up for the coming circus and battles to be held. On the southern side of the field are several tents set up in the colors of silver and blue, with several banners of the Taniford houses swaying in the breeze. On the northern side if the grey and red of Rhaedan, it's banner and houses in the wind as well, allowing places for both sides to gather and celebrate and watch the events, or for those that could not afford lodgings in the town at one of the two Inns, a place to sleep.
A large tent encompasses the western half of the field, where the circus maintop has been set up, annd there are already a few wagons, befoostened with colorful streamers and cloths already set up.
July 20th, 1329

The main event of the tournament, of any tournament, had been scheduled as the final event of the Laketown Circus and tournament - The Joust. The stands were beginning to fill as the time neared for the event to begin. Excitement ran through many as speculated upon which Knights were actually going to appear for this tournament and just whose favour any might be carrying.

Vendors trolled through the people trying to hawk their merchendie and tasty treats - roasted nuts and chicken's feet, ale and wine, wooden swords and small flags in various house colors. And somewhere, there are even face painters for the kids.

One to arrive early, the Black Knight from the Battle Royal. Seeming well healed from his injuries, walks along, helm already on and the visor closed. Two Squires lead his horse while another two carry a plethora of lances. The Squires are dressed much like the Knight, in black. No where evident is any sign or sigil of house, save for the small depiction of Bornas on each man's right breast. The Black night pauses with his squires, still not opening his helm, as it seems from any that would be paying attention, talking about the competition. One squire is pointing out the other Knights, speaking softly as the Black Knight nods and turns to look at the indicated Knight.

Sarah has been performing, doing her acrobatics and her trick shooting routine for coppers and cheers. Performing daring cartwheels and dramatic twisting flips, her swishy white skirt has always remained just barely chaste—all part of the smoke and mirrors of the circus show. When the Joust is announced, Sarah bids the crowd farewell, collects her earnings, and pays her stage assistants. Hop-skipping toward the lists, the bouncy, happy archer-of-the-woods attempts to smuggle herself onto the field with the squires and men-at-arms, hoping to score ground-level seating.

Having his equipment, aside from the armor already brought here, Pawel walks in together with Tamara, offering her a quiet smile now. "Well, it seems I should be getting ready for the competition, then…" he offers, before he adds, "Don't worry about me, I will be fine out there," he adds.

Standing somewhere to the side of the lists is Sir Deidra Vangoriel, leisurely watching the ongoing spectacle of arriving spectators, haggling vendors and equisitely clad nobles. And other knights that have come to take part in the contest, of course, like that conspicuous looking Black Knight over there. She wears her official Blue Guard steel armor, shining in the warm orange light of a late afternoon sun. A sudden gust of wind makes her blue cloak bulge behind her and tears a little at something that appears to be a favor - a piece of cloth, tied about her right arm, covered with little stains here and there. Her steed, a chestnut brown courser, gives a low whinny, its reigns are held by a young red-haired lad who stands in for a squire Deidra does not have.

With her hand lightly resting upon her Chosen's arm as the seek out seats, Tylon inquires to Thomas,"Any Knight in particular you have been hoping to see compete today? I admit, it would be interesting to see if we get a Red Knight today or not. " Before she spies some seats and lightly points towards them before heading that way.

Smilling, a rarity for the Chosen, Thomas walks along and moves to where they are very close to the Nobility seats. One reserved for the Temple Priestess. He looks out over the field and shrugs "It has been so long that I was at a Tourney I do not know where anyone stands. But that one," he indicates to the knight in black "Seems rather assured to me, I wonder who it is. You know how I feel about those that won't show their faces," and a grump follows.

Twisting a purple ribboned favor around in her hand, — for what lady who has not already given hers goes to a tourney without one, — Lady Cassia Auldholme's eyes scan the crowds from her velvet cushioned seat. Her gown, a purple satin, is lined with cloth of gold inside of her dagged sleeves; most would have no doubt of the lady's house with just the site of her. Finally, she settles her glance to her hands as she twists them back and forth, pushing a blonde lock out of her face now and again, to her chagrin.

Tamara squeezes Pawel's arm at his words and the red headed lady gives the duke a worried look, "You just be careful, I don't want to here any whining about your age afterwards my dear." She then offers him a small Taniford blue ribbon, she takes out of her hair and presses it into his hands before moving towards the stands with her guards in tow. Eyes roam over the viewers as she searches for someone.

A pair of squires accompany Sir Eldrick to the field. The first carries a pennant bearing the burgundy and gold Lohstren blazon, while the second bears a bundle of tourney lances on his shoulder. Eldrick, attired for the joust, is solemn and straight-backed as he guides his sleek charger toward the field. Other than the cloak in his family's colors and the pennant fluttering on the tip of the lance borne in hand, the knight's attire is without ornament.

Leading his horse along, Alek looks to his squire,"And remember, no messengers. I don't care if it's from her or not. It can wait. " The pretty Knight trying to glare to impress that point, but he's pretty and glaring just doesn't work and the squire struggles not to laugh. "I'm serious." The Knight in Westmark colors shakes his head and grumbles under his breathe as he goes about rechecking his charger.

Not up in the stands yet, Amira is wandering around with her multiple guards and her handmaid. She carries a small flag in Rhaedan colors and on her cheek is painted a rainbow. As she approaches the stands, she looks over towards the field where the competitors will compete in the event and her smile brightens. "To the stands then," she tells her handmaid and guards as she begins walking in that direction.

Niniane has been allowed to once again come and view the events. Entering with what seems like far to many Taniford guards the northern princess is directed to a seat on the southern side of the field, "Thank you." She says quietly to the guards as she folks her hands in her lap, a red beacon among a sea of blue, for the princess' crimson dress stands out.

As her brother takes the field bearing that pennant of Burgundy and Gold, Morla slowly makes her way into the stands accompanied with two of her normal guards. She spies her cousin looking around before starting on her way over towards Tamara, following the sight of the flaming curls.

Having taken the evening off to watch the jousting, Roltoff finds himself a spot where he can see the whole event. He glances left and right as he spots individuals competing, his eyes falling upon one person in peticular and his smile grows. He does nod and acknowledge those who are also watching as he gets ready for the event to start.

As the stands begin to fill, the tournament announcer steps out to the field. "Lords and Ladies, Sirs, Masters and Mistresses!! Let me welcome you here this fine day. Such fine folk who have turned out! " The rail thin man turning as he speaks to address all sides of the field. "We have a fine field for you today! So settle in and make sure to cheer loud for your favored Knights as they compete before us today! An without further ado….OUr first pairing this day will be between…" Glancing down at a bit of paper,"of the Blue Guard, Sir Deidra Vangoriel and Sir Eldrick Lohstren!!"

Hearing that he is not first up, the Black Knight makes his way over to the stands and right to where the Royality sits. A simple bow to the Southern guards before he looks about through his visored helm. Turning back to those seated there he gives a deep bow of his head as he looks to the Northern Princess "Your Highness," he says to Niniane "I would be forever grateful if you would bestow on me your favor for the Joust?"

Torn is perhaps the best one can say, where to go is the question. A shrug of her shoulders and Prada pushes herself away from the railing to make her way through crowd. Roltoff is given a slight nudge to the side of his as the lady passes, Niniane is offered a wink and cheeky grin, and her footsteps carry to the Ladies Morla and Tamara to take seat quietly. She has given no favor to those present. She may be known to swear like a pirate when angry, yet the lady does know her manners and to give such to any without their requesting it is highly frowned up. As such hers instead with another not present. Leaning toward the ladies she grins and whispers, "Oddly enough they felt I did enough damage with arrows, yet for the life of me I cannot understand why they would not trust me with a lance."

"I was briefly at the one in Wolveshire, healing duties," comes Tylon's way of explanation. Her gaze turning to the one Thomas points out,"He does seem to have a presence about him." Giving a slight pat to the Chosen's arm as they settle into the seats,"Yes, I am quite aware. It is not a tradition you are ever going to approve of, Brother."

Clapping politely as the herald announces the jousters to the lists, Cassia sit's quietly, her eyes following that of the rainbow-cheeked princess Amira. She even smiles at the whimsy of it all, only chancing a glance at the current Taniford hostage, Princess Niniane, before looking back to the field.

Slipping through the underworks of the stands into the preparation area of the lists, Sarah of the Sky ends up near the Black Knight's staging area while the knight himself is absent. Weaving her way into his entourage, the flame-haired adventuress makes her way closer to the lists themselves. Today she has come unarmed at a glance, with her bow unstrung and her quiver cinched.

When her name is called, Deidra dons her helmet and mounts her chestnut brown courser with the swift grace she is known for. She accepts her shield and lance from the young lad with a friendly nod. "Thank you, Henrek. Now… wish me luck." Her confident gaze beneath that open visor seems to betray those words as she lets it wander one more time over the stands, lingering for a moment on the familiar face of an innkeep and sellsword.

But then the Blue Guard gets ready and rides over to the place in the stands where the Taniford Royalty is seated to offer a dip of the lance to Queen Regina, before she rides on to assume her place at the end of the list. Deidra's steed whinnies once again as she assesses Sir Eldrick Lohstren from afar. Her visor is lowered, the grasp around the lance and shield is tightened, and then Deidra urges her steed onwards, flying at her opponent with a swift gallop, the gaze of her steely green eyes never leaving the one she is aiming to unhorse.

Eldrick guides his horse forward as his name is called opposite Sir Deidra. The knight first stands in his stirrups to execute a deep bow from the waist toward the Taniford banner, returning to his saddle to offer a salute of the lance toward the Rhaedan princesses. In a deft display of the steed's good training, the knight's charger raises a front hoof and dips it's front leg in an equine bow, before the Lohstren lord offers a final salute to Sir Deidra as the pair square off, and the tilt begins.

"Thank you," Pawel offers to Tamara, before he lowers his voice to whisper something to Tamara before she gets to the stands. That done, he moves to make sure the ribbon the lady gave him is secured to his person, before he moves to find his own horse and the rest of the equipment now, to be ready for the action.

Thomas listens as his arm is patted, a nod here, a nod there. Then he shakes his head "They always seem to be hiding something. I don't trust those that hide like that." He takes a deep breath and shrugs "But it seems to be happening more and more often of late. I wonder why that is."

Pawel whispers to Tamara.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Deidra=Joust Vs Eldrick=Joust
< Deidra: Great Success Eldrick: Success
< Net Result: Deidra wins - Solid Victory
<FS3> Opposed Roll — Deidra=Joust Vs Eldrick=Joust
< Deidra: Success Eldrick: Success
< Net Result: DRAW
<FS3> Opposed Roll — Deidra=Joust Vs Eldrick=Joust
< Deidra: Failure Eldrick: Success
< Net Result: Eldrick wins - Marginal Victory

Arriving just when she means to, for a Queen is always on time and never late, the Summer Queen gives a small incline of her head to Sir Deidra as the Blue Knight offers the dip of the lance. Regina settling into watch the tournament after a brief comment to one of her attendents.

A hint of surprise on Niniane's face as the Black Knight approaches, "Oh why of course Sir." She does finally say after a brief pause. A smile touches the northern princess' lips as she studies the knight and carefully takes a crimson dyed handkerchief, embroidered with a golden edge from on of her guards, who holds it out promptly once the princess concedes to it. "I do hope it bring you luck mysterious Sir." She says quietly and smiles as she leans back away from the knight and looks to the first jousters readying their selves.

Now that Amira has made it to the appropriate sitting area, she watches as the Black Knight asks her sister for a favor and her own smile cannot help but to widen, the expression in her eyes one of merriment. When she notices Cassia, she offers her a friendly smile in return though to her sister and the Black Knight, hands clasped together as she watches the exchange of the favor.

Then there is just the sound of thundering hooves as the knights ride at each other. The first pass starts off quite spectacular, with Sir Deidra's lance splintering at Sir Eldrick's head which is thankfully protected by a helmet, while the Lohstren manages to hit the Blue Guard at the shoulder. The second pass continues, with both knights dealing each other well aimed but harmless blows that glance of their breast plates. A murmur of surprise can be heard from the stands, as the Blue Guard misses the Lohstren on the third passs, while Eldrick lands a third solid hit.

Another bow of his head "You do honor me, Your Highness," replies the Black Knight as he tucks the red cloth onto his armor. Where it will flutter as he rides. A bow is given to the Queen as well "Your Majisty, perhaps this day I shall ride in the glory that is all of Eikeren."

Tamara smiles as Pawel whispers to her and replies a touch louder then the duke did, "Of course my dear." Another shy smile for the duke before she minds Lady Morla and the arriving Lady Prada, "Arrows? What did I miss Lady Prada with my nose in all the paperwork?" She smiles though and takes a seat as the jousting starts.

Fashionable late and regally attired she is. For the Queen of Taniford could naught be otherwise. Her demeanor one of control and perfection, her smile mayhap betrays her, as also gentle and compassion. The Queen wastes little time in settling herself comfortably and motions for Princess Niniane to join her after watching the exchange cooly. "Come we should talk." She offers before eyes of wisdom turn toward the list.

A wince comes from Thomas as the lance breaks on the head of Eldrick "That had to hurt." He comments softly. "This is why I do not join such as this. Getting hurt for no real reason."

Taking one of Deidra's lances to the face of his helm in their opening pass sends Eldrick reeling back in the saddle; a poor trade of the touch he landed on the Blue Guard's pauldron. Although he bends far back in the saddle, the Lohstren keeps his saddle smoothly and proceeds to land another pair of hits on Deidra in their next tilts, saluting the royal banner with a regrettably still-intact lance after the final pass.

Sliding a bit over to the side as Prada joins them, the pale Flower returns her soft words with a faint smile, "Well, I suppose we should reserve some glory for our male counterparts, dear Lady Prada. It would not do well to scare all away with your impressive measure of competency." Morla turns to regard Tamara to her other side, "That you did, though I must confess I did as well. I had entirely forgotten about the archery competition. I would have enjoyed seeing her and your brother compete."

A smile and a nod is given to the princess as she grants Cassia a smile. Her crystalline gaze drifts in the direction the princess looks, an eyebrow lifts slightly to the exchange but no more. She leans in to whisper to her handmaiden, perhaps an opinion on what she just saw, it lasts but a moment before she turns back to the lists and the sound of thundering hooves and cracking of lances.

Roltoff watches both combatants go at it and keeps his face as impassive as possible until he hears who the declaired winner is, but he hopes his guess is accurate. Even if his eyes remain focus'd on one knight in peticular.

As the Black Knight turns to leave, he gives a wink to the younger of the Nothern Princess. One that might be seen through his visor slits. Then turning he watches the lances, each pass is made and still he just watches quietly as his squires across the field ready his horse and it's armor as well.

Sarah approaches the barricades marking the edges of the tourney grounds, just as the knights crash together for the first time. Leaning down to fold her arms atop the padded and bannered top of the barricade, the red-headed wanderer tilts forward and lazily raises a leg behind her at the knee. She sways a bit as she watches the second and third crashes, and whistles shrilly when the victor of the round is declared. She smiles brightly, watching with eager interest from the staging areas under the stands.

As the the final passes are made by the Knights, the announce calls the final scoring out,"By a slim one point, Sir Deidra advances on!" Glancing down to his paper,"And our next pairing shall be….ah…the mysterious Black Night again…" another glance to the list,"Really? Him….well…that pretty one, Sir Alek Gorthron!"

"Shit. I think I'm too late." Xander is just now arriving at the fields as he was caught on a mission for the last few days. Glancing at the lists, he looks around for someone who might be able to sneak him in, or at least give him a shot.

"What did you miss? Aside from near attempt at skewering the Westmarks and taking off my brother hand in a single event. Not a great deal." Prada laughs out, her eyes still searching those gathered. A held breath is quickly released once she finds the man and she shakes her head, "He will be late to his own funeral. Mark my words. Late."

The Black Knight makes his way to his horse where he gets on with a bit of a push from one of the Squires. He trots the black horse, a sturdy Lohstren war horse, to his starting point. "Lance," he calls and hefts it up as the squire hands it to him. He raises it high as he looks across where the Pretty Knight readies, in his way of a salute.

After a few minutes of talking to the judge, Xander makes a disgusted face, followed by a good natured shrug and makes his way over to the stands. "Looks like I'm sitting this dance out." he says as he leans against the stands and grins up at Prada.

Three hits to various spots of her upper body that must hurt as hell right now, but one splintered lance to Eldrick's head… Deidra reigns her steed in and opens her visor, raising her last fresh and still unbroken lance in salute to the Taniford Queen as she awaits the result from the herald. And when it comes, her sour demeanour lightens up at once and a glance is shot towards a certain someone in the stands. However, as she leaves the field to make way for the next contestants, Deidra offers Eldrick a respectful incline of her head. "Well ridden, my lord. That was… quite close. Are you alright?" A concerned look goes to the Lohstren's head.

Niniane watches at the black knight moves away and the older princess raises a hand in greeting to her younger sister across the way, a smile playing across her lips. The queen's words then catch her attention and the woman's back stiffens, "Of course your majesty." Rising smoothly Niniane moves to sit next to Regina, "Jousting ever so exciting your majesty." She says lightly and smiles to the older woman.

With his name called, Alek mounts up settling and taking up his lance. Returning the salute to the Black Knight across the field before waiting for the first flag to be dropped and start the charges across the field. His hand tightening upon the lance and reins.

Wintery depths follow the length of Prada's gaze inspiring an arch of a brow as Morla catches the late arrival of her cousin, "Of that, it is a given. Perhaps we should have informed him the joust was to be held yesterday." Morla turns just in time to see her brother take a hit with a splintered lance to the head, barely losing the round as a grimace twists upon her lips, "It would seem the tide has not yet turned for us afterall. He held his seat, though, and that is good."

Eldrick dips his lance in salute to the victor of their pass, and begins to lift his visor, before the misshapen steel refuses. Instead he looses the strap and hauls off the helm entire, to face Deidra. "Well ridden, Sir Deidra. Your defense is quite commendable." Her inquiry to his health is met by a deadpan reply of, "I have oft been cursed for my hard head, yet this day I am thankful for it. Good fortune in your next pass, Sir."

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Jerric=Joust Vs Alek=Joust
< Jerric: Good Success Alek: Success>
< Net Result: Jerric wins - Solid Victory
<FS3> Opposed Roll — Jerric=Joust Vs Alek=Joust
< Jerric: Good Success Alek: Success
< Net Result: Jerric wins - Marginal Victory

Catching the wave from her sister, Amira returns it along with a hand to her heart. Oh how she misses her sister and she watches as she is summoned to the southern Queen, offering a polite bow of her head to the royal. As the black knight rides past, she barely catches the wink and her hand inexorably tightens on the small Rhaedan flag she holds in her hand, the smile on her face skewing the painted rainbow on her cheek, making it extend slightly.

Tamara winces as Sir Eldrick takes the hit but she says to Prada and Morla, "At least it was to a Blue Guard, someone to be proud of losing to." The next contestants are announced and the Steward watches but her eyes fall to her brother, "Xander, honestly?" She gives a rather motherly shake of her head, "You shall just have to come sit up with me then and help Lady Morla explain the rules."

"But the view is nicer down here." Xander says, shamelessly checking out Prada's legs before he climbs up to join the others. "Hey, it's a family reunion." he comments casually as he settles down next to the lady Varghem. "So what all did I miss while I was doing the work of the Count?"

Eldrick's reply is met with a dry but relieved chuckle. "I am glad to hear that, my lord.", Deidra remarks. "A hard head can have it advantages… And thank you." She dismounts and hands the reins of her horse to Henrek again, exhaling as she takes off her helmet to watch the next tilt with an unhampered view.

A smile goes to Thomas,"They are hiding something, who they are." Tylon giving her attention to the field as the first Knights take the field,"Perhaps more do not find that they can compete as themselves, for some reason. Green eyes follow the horses as the first round of matches occur. A small nod going to Thomas at his soft comment.

Having been watching carefully so far, Pawel's been trying to figure out things about the strengths and weaknesses of the opponents. Once in a while looking up into the stands too now.

Regina laughs lightly at the Princess excitement of the joust and nods in agreement, though her eyes never leave the Lohstren Knight even once it over. She nods to the man as she applauds his effort, yet as her wont speaks to Niniane, "As is learning someone who has every reason to act otherwise, has remained loyal. I wonder. Have you had the chance to speak with your brother?" The Queen notices the other Northern Princes with a cool lack of emotion or regard. Her head turning at last to the one near her. "Perhaps you should in fact be allowed to spend a moment with your brother. Only your brother."

As the second runs goes, again the Black Knight breaks a lance. When he returns to the middle of the lists he stops and raises his left to the passing Alek. The right he shakes, painfully." Sir," he starts when the other Knight halts "it seems that my hand was jammed in the lance, I can not continue and thus will forfeit the win to you." The words are spoken softly, not carrying to the stands, perhaps. But all can see that the two talk.

Prada's booted foot nudges Xander playfully before he moves to sit with them. Sliding a bit down she offers the man a seat and stoney glare, but a comment of happiness, "We were just discussing if we will need to notify you a day early of your death to prevent you from being late for it is well."

"Well.." Xander drawls casually as he gives Prada an easy smile. "Make sure you give me a day's early notice before we're wed so I know when to have my head start on the funeral." he grins as he drops into his seat and settles his hand on the Varghem lady's. "You tell them that I'm kidnapping you into my family yet?"

Cassia takes a thin strip of parchment out of her coin purse and places it in the palm of her handmaiden, whispering a name in the woman's ear and sending her off. The maid rises and walks towards the tents, stopping at the Lohstren tent and leaving the tiny missive with the guard there. When the maid returns, Cassia pats her hand and gives her a light smile, turning just in time to see the conversation between the knights on the field. For the second time a brow arches skyward at the Black Knight's actions, finally she shrugs as if to dismiss the oddity all together.

Niniane touches her hand over her heart, seeing Amira's actions out of the corner of her eyes, the blonde's green eyes however never leave the queen for long at first but as the Black Knight enters the list the northerner's attention roams, "Oh he did do splendid. It is always lovely to know ones favor can bring luck." The two contestants converse and Niniane's eyes move back to the queen, "I would very much enjoy that your majesty." She says trying to keep the joy out of her voice, but it creeps it's way in.

Two rounds, strikes made by both but the lances seem to only like breaking upon the pretty Knight. Alek draws up his horse when the Black Knight raises his hand. Offering a bow of his head when he halts. His own voice low and not carrying far beyond the pair, "Well met, Sir. I regret the injury. Would you wish to ride the last and finish?" Extending the offer to complete the match in the Knightly fashion and respect.

Tamara listen half heartedly to her sibling and the other ladies, "Why are they stopping?" She asks looking to the Black Knight and the pretty knight and looking confused, "Here I thought it was three jousts or wait was it four?" The Taniford lady's eye then look to the duke of Wolveshire and she watches him a moment, concern touching her face.

"Indeed, they are." As the first two lances are broken Thomas nods "That Black knight has perfect form." Then does his eyes narrow a bit as they stop "Wait, what's this? I think he's hurt."

"They'll stop if someone's hurt or there's a complete unhorsing." Xander says, leaning forward to study the two knights, looking for the tale-tell signs of an injury.

Eldrick's younger squire strikes the Lohstren pennant, rolling it up as Eldrick is eliminated, while the knight dismounts to one side of the field. Electing to remain in his armor, the knight returns to the edge of the lists afoot, to observe the remainder of the day's jousts. He returns within sight of the field as the Black Knight and Alek converse, within earshot of the noble seats.

Sitting below The nobles Roltoff also notices the stoppage and arches a brow but he's only here to watch one knight as jousting had never been his thing. He turns his head to listen to those above him talk and then back down on the field to see the final result of this stoppage.

Rising up slightly within her seat in an effort to get a better view, Morla watches the two competitors meet in discussion as she tries to make out the contents of their discussion. When it seems too distant, the pale noblewoman looks back towards her cousin with a thoughtful shake of her head, "I have no idea. It looks like a possibly injury from where the last lance broke, but it is too far away to tell for certain. I am certain we will know soon enough, as they still have one more ride."

A bow of his head to the Pretty Knight "YOu do me great honor, Sir." The Black Knight nods to his squire that removes the simple black batter that was his sigil for the joust, clearly a forfeit. He rides to his end of the lists, takes up a lance, very gingerly and trots his beast back down, not the charge that is the norm. When he meets in the middle of the Pretty Knight he raises his lance again in Salute, does not ride to the end but turns and rides back to his Squires. Where upon the lance is dropped to fall in a puff of dust.

"He just conceded." Xander frowns. "What in the name of the chasms?" the knight says in confusion.

Amira cannot hear the words of the Queen to her sister, but she does see the look. That she is not surprised she does not let on and she keeps the smile on her face as she sees the return action from her sister. Tears finally fill her eyes and she rapidly blinks them away so her rainbow did not suddenly have a rainstorm. Only as words of musing reaches her ears about the black knight and when he cedes the final turn, she rises from her seat, intending to go find him.

With a nod as the agreement is reached, Alek says,"Honor and respect of the station, Sir." Turning his horse and head back for the 'final' charge, but simply trtting out, not the mad charge as usual. Raising his lance in salute to the Black Knight as the meet in the middle before returning as well to his squire, but handing off the lance in a more controlled fashion.

The announcer blinks at the indication is made that the Black Knight is withdrawing,"Well…well….it seems the Black Knight withdrawls! Injured or simply taken with that Pretty face…Ah…injury by the looks of that lance drop folks!" Giving a shake of his head," And that means our pretty Knight, Sir Alek will be advancing!" Giving his notes a flap before looking at them,"And…next up Duke Pawel Varghem against Sir Sammel Riedel!!"

Sarah frowns with confusion as the knights discuss matters on the battlefield, and when the concession is announced, her eyes pop wide. Biting her lip, Sarah looks about, already situated close to the Black Knight's entourage. Slipping away from the barricades slowly, she casually makes her way off in that general direction, hoping to overhear something.

Ser Sammel Riedel had stood comfortably alone during the earlier knights' passes, a solitary knight among the bustle of squires and pages and livered servants, watching the proceedings on the field with a calm considering stare. He was in his armor, tourney steel with a reddish tint to it, a testament to wealth and position. One gauntleted hand rested upon the pommel of his sword, the other cradeled his great helm. His great steed was in the firm grip of a squire while his master waited patiently. It was with a similar lack of hurry that, once his turn came, he encased his fair features in metal, grasped the saddle of his mount, and smoothly lifted himself up tall. A tourney lance entered his hand from a nearby armsman, and he took a second to give it a sharp and critical scrutiny before finally conceeding it acceptable. Then he was riding forward.

Eldrick watches with keen attention as the two knights trot down the list without intent, and the Lohstren nods slightly, rapping gauntleted hand upon his breastplate in reserved acclaim for the courtesy of the act. "Hail, chivalry," he calls steadily aloud. As the next knights are announced, a page approaches the lord, and hands Eldrick a note. The stoic cavalier reads it briefly, and speaks to the page in return.

Hearing his name called, Pawel puts his helm on now, before he mounts his horse, and gets his lance. Moving for his end of the field, he has the lance raised in a salute to the stands, eyes going to some of the people there, then back to the tilt at hand. There's a polite nod, and a salute with the lance to Sammel, before the Duke lowers the visor of his helm, ready for the passes to start.

Tamara nods her head to Xander, "It seems so, pity he did seem to know what he was doing." The Steward says lightly but then sits up straight again as Pawel is announced and her hands start to wring the fabric of her dress, "Oh I do hope he does well." She says to the ladies and her brother beside her quietly.

"Then it shall be done. I will send word for Prince Jerric to met with you." The Queen furrows her brow, her lips set in a firm line at the Black Knights actions. "Interesting." Any questions she has held behind her lips as she turns back to the Princess. "I would not have issue with both Prince Jerric and Stefan visiting with you. Their actions are quite understandable as is our reaction. Your sister however, you must understand there are some actions that are inexcusable. This is not punish, only to protect."

Deidra's steely green eyes narrow a touch as she observes the Black Knight's gesture of defeat. "Injury, it must be…" she mutters thoughtfully in response to the herald's clueless summary. But then her gaze darts back to the lists, as the next paring is announced. "Good luck, your grace." she mutters, more to herself as she waits for the tilt to begin.

"I do not see healers rushing to his aid." Xander frowns a little. "Curioser and curioser.." he mutters to himself aloud as he only pays somewhat attention to the match. It's one thing to have an interest. It's another when you're just sitting around.. and yawning. "Bored."

Away from the crowds, perhaps, The Black Knight gets off his horse, one handed. He pulls of the helm that leaves his sweat soaked hair matted to his head. One of the squires rushes up and gently helps the Prince remove the gauntlet from his right hand. Jerric for his part does not cry out but winces with clinched teeth. Obviously the hand is broken. "I shall find a healer for you, Your Highness," and the lad takes off. Mean while Jerric looks pained and mad as stirred up hornets nest "I had him, I had him beat, but it was all I could do to hold the lance to return the salute."

Niniane looks with confusion to the field as the Black Knight concedes, the queen's words filtering past her worry for her brother, recognized by such a familiar voice earlier, "I understand your concern your majesty." She nods her head not willing to argue with a meeting with her brothers so close at hand. Though her green eyes move to Amira and she gives the younger princess an apologetic smile, despite the fact Amira can not hear the words, "Thank you ever so much for your kindness your majesty." Niniane intones then as her eyes turn back to Regina.

With the announcement of the next pairing, Morla casts a sidelong glance back towards her cousin with a faint reassuring tone, "It is a competition, dear Cousin. Whatever the circumstances may be outside of this tournament, we must bear that in mind. I am certain you have nothing to worry over. His Grace will be fine," even as she says so, her own attentions are once more driven towards the field in anticipation of the next pairing.

Prada leans in to Xander grinning and a few whispered words are spoken. Of which the words you and concede are clear. Then she leans back to glance toward Tamara, "Pawel knows what he is doing. Do not be fooled if he feins injury tomorrow for additional attention." it is then back to Xander she turns, realizing for once something other than her can hold the mans attention. "After Pawels turn we can leave if you wish. I owe Roltoff the pleasure of my setting things in motion for those who will gather at the Clam after, though I refuse to serve."

An ear is leaned to the page in Lohstren colors that comes Cassia's way, she nods as the boy speaks. Speaking in a hushed tone she rattles off what sounds like a time, and mild pleasantries before sending the boy back to his Sir. She eyes her handmaiden who seems to look a bit nervous, patting her hand once more before standing and leading her and her four guards out of the stands. Giving proper greeting to the royalty as she passes and heads away from the lists.

"It is up to you, Prada." Xander says with a grin as he leans up to whisper in response to her, a mention of a note he recieved hastening his return as he looks back towards the tilt. "Not tonight, I think we have other plans."

Not so surprisingly, Amira is innocent of the charges flung against her and is as pure as the day she was born and when it comes to the false accusations, that is exactly what they are. False. So seeing her sister near the queen, she finally rises from her seat and goes instead to check on the black knight who seems to have been injured during the recent joust.

"Of course, of course cousin, but that does not stop my worrying over his health." Tamara smiles to Morla and reaches out to nudge her brother's arm, "Just because you seem to have no sense of time brother, does not mean you can not even fake some interest in your future brother-in-laws performance." Her eyes roll as she sits back and nods to Prada, "I fully expect it Lady Prada, I am not that uneducated of your brother's habits." She smirks though and her eyes move back to watch the match and her hands wrinkle the fabric of her green dress once again.

Sarah sneaks through the assorted equipment and machinery that lies under the stands for use in the circus and the joust, slowly making her way closer to the injured Black Knight. Leaning up against the side of a wagon, she strains to listen to him speak as he complains of the injured hand. Holding very still, she turns her head aside and waits.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Pawel=Joust Vs Sammel=Joust
< Pawel: Great Success Sammel: Failure
< Net Result: Pawel wins - Crushing Victory
<FS3> Opposed Roll — Pawel=Joust Vs Sammel=Joust
< Pawel: Good Success Sammel: Failure
< Net Result: Pawel wins - Solid Victory
<FS3> Opposed Roll — Pawel=Joust Vs Sammel=Joust
< Pawel: Good Success Sammel: Success
< Net Result: Pawel wins - Solid Victory

Eldrick speaks briefly to his younger squire, dismissing the boy with a word and nod. Attended by another, the composed knight and a trio of attendants withdraw from the tournament grounds, as the dispatched squire approaches the seats where Morla, Tamara, and company reside with a discreet message.

<FS3> Sarah rolls Perception: Good Success.

Motions from within the stands draw Morla's gaze once more as her eyes follow Amira's departure with a slight curl of her lips. Shaking her head, she again returns her attentions back towards her own ensemble, "Yes, well, I suppose a little fussing is healthy for the male ego. It is when given to excess that such things can prove dangerous." Pausing for a moment further, the pale frosted Lohstren continues in a quieter manner, "Besides, I would much rather know that Lady Tamara is attending to him than the Harlot. Neutral grounds or not, we have a duty to protect our reputations and those who would do such harm." Pausing slightly as her brother's squire joins them, the younger Lohstren rises a little to take note of the message before responding with a slight nod. Considering for a moment, she conveys another message softly in reply to which the squire nods and slips off to dispatch.

"Sure I can. Watch." Xander totally fakes looking completely bored and grins. "I wonder if his opponent even has skill with the lance. It seems to be.. comical, at best." There's a shake of his head in confusion and a grin. "At least your husband to be seems to know how to hold a lance?"

There's one thing that Pawel isn't quite ready for today. And that's losing in the first round. Both on the first, second and third passes, he manages to score solid hits, before he slows down a bit after the third pass is done. Looking up towards the stands again now, after having opened his visor again. Also offering one more polite nod to Sammel.

Sir Sammel offered one detatched nod in his opponent's direction, one lift of the lance in salute. Then the visor slammed down and he charging forward with all the speed that considerable horse flesh could provide. A great pity his lancearm didn't do his horse justice at all. To the end of his humiliating, he gave Pawel a single nod, then turned his horse away from the lists. Frustration showed in the exaggerated violence of his movements as he threw away the lance at his unfortunate armsman, then jumped off. He was stalking straight off the field. Fuming.

Even the announcer winces when Pawel starts off with the head blow, a blow that just seems to set the course of the enter meeting the pairing. "No contest on that one folks, Duke Pawel advances to the finals! And let's find out just who he'll be facing!" Pausing briefly to consult, cause he really is a horrid announcer, before calling,"Sir Deidra of the Blue Guard or Sir Alex the Pretty! Be sure to cheer them on folks!"

Tamara's lips turn down with a slight frown at Morla's words, "I quite perfectly do not care to think of such things cousin." She gives Morla a small smile though, "His grace did do wonderfully from the looks of it though, right?" She looks to Xander at his words and her smile turns brighter as she claps along with the crowd for Pawel's victory, "Who was his opponent though, I don't recognize the face so I am assuming a northerner?"

Sarah had been looking off to the side with a calm, relaxed expression as she listened in on the Black Knight's comments. Upon receiving an unknown cue, Sarah suddenly turns and is walking calmly away from the wagon…when she sees Sammel storming right off the field! Glancing left and right with nowhere to go, Sarah instead calls casually against a post, glancing off to the side with a disinterested expression as her arms fold and her ankles cross.

Whatever he thinks of what his squire has told about just who the Black Knight actually was, does not seem to have phased the Pretty Westmarkian Knight. When his name is called again to take the field, a messenger comes his way, to whom he simply growls,"No, not this time!" Waving the man off as he goes to mount and take his place. As his settles his horse into place, Alek raises his lance in respectful salute to Sir Deidra across the way before dropping the visor on his helm. Fingers tightening on the lance as he stares upon the flag that will soon fall and send them against one another.

After leaving the stands, Amira goes off to find her brother despite the looks she gets, she holds her head high, because she is innocent of the whisperings. Once she comes to the area he is, she calls out for him. "May I enter, Black Knight?" Of course her four guards AND her handmaid are with her, as always.

Whatever outcome might have expected, it might not have been this. Deidra applauds to the Duke of Wolveshire, the surprise quite evident in her face. "Well ridden, Your Grace! Three splintered lances!" She smirks as she observes the Northerner's displeased departure but chooses not to comment on it.

But then her name is called again. Donning her helmet, Deidra remounts and rides over to the lists, dipping her lance once again to the Queen as she passes her. "So, pretty one. Beware of my lance." she calls over to Alek with a good-natured laugh, before she lowers her visor. Couching her lance she spurs her steed onwards, her steely gaze fixed on her opponent.

As the next run goes on, Jerric is helped out of his Joust harness and into his normal Brigandine. As the healer starts to wrap up his hand "I fear it is broken, Your Highness," he says but the Prince pushes him away "That is what I pay you for, to state the obvious? And I do not want it wrapped, everyone would know it was me." He looks to one of his Guards "Get him out of here and find me a real Healer." The last is done, the squire belts the sword about him and stands back. Jerric looks down at his swelling hand, tries to move the fingers and finds the pain to much to do. "By the Four," he curses as he makes his way to the stands.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Deidra=Joust Vs Alek=Joust
< Deidra: Good Success Alek: Good Success
< Net Result: DRAW
<FS3> Opposed Roll — Deidra=Joust Vs Alek=Joust
< Deidra: Success Alek: Success
< Net Result: DRAW
<FS3> Opposed Roll — Deidra=Joust Vs Alek=Joust
< Deidra: Good Success Alek: Good Success
< Net Result: Alek wins - Marginal Victory

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Deidra=Joust Vs Alek=Joust
< Deidra: Success Alek: Good Success
< Net Result: Alek wins - Solid Victory
<FS3> Opposed Roll — Deidra=Joust Vs Alek=Joust
< Deidra: Success Alek: Good Success
< Net Result: Alek wins - Solid Victory
<FS3> Opposed Roll — Deidra=Joust Vs Alek=Joust
< Deidra: Success Alek: Great Success
< Net Result: Alek wins - Solid Victory

Just as he was to leave his sister is heard and he motions to let her pass. A smile "Amira, why are you not watching the Joust?" Jerric says joyfully.

Sammel's helmet had suffered dents in the course of his earlier joust, and it took a few moments of intense effort to finally wrangle it open and then throw it aside with a gesture of disgust. His squire, following at his heels with the wariness of a kicked hound, picked it up. It would have to go to an armorer to return to its previous state of martial perfection. The knight himself meanwhile took the distance he had put between himself and his earlier absolute faliure, to breathe in fresh air and stomp down on the temper flashing in his eyes.

Prada slips her arm through Xanders and sighs, "I suppose I should return to the Clam. Remind me to never gamble with Roltoff in the furture unless I am using my own dice." she then leans toward Morla and Tamara with a whisper, "Once this is over come to the Clam, where you shall dine on the finest grilled meat, prepared by own hands and purchased with my own coin. All for being trusting enough to toss the bones with a sellsword.

"Just wow folks!! It seems that those two are well matched! Perhaps they've danced before!" Yells the announcer! "Match it up again! More lances to them both!" As the two are ordered to a rematch to decide who meets Duke Pawel.

Xander rises to escort Prada and laughs. "The trouble you get yourself into when I'm not around, did you offer your virginity in the process?" he asks in amusement as he waits for her permission to leave.

Roltoff watches as Sir Deidra and Sir Alek go at it and for some reason they go at it again and he gets up and starts to move out, when he pauses at hearing his name and another comment. Roltoff looks to both lady prada and Sir Xander with an odd look and rolls his eyes, before making his way out of the stands.

Sarah listens as Sammel storms on by, only turning her eyes after he's gone past. Smirking faintly to herself, the skirted archer bounds away from the post and starts to hurry off in the opposite direction, deftly weaving around the man's squire as she goes!

"Xander!" Tamara shakes her head at her brother's words, "Honestly Lady Prada, you do know my mother would even give you full permission to slap him for such things." She says with a smirk and raises an eyebrow to the offer of the Clam, "Oh I will try and convince his grace to come, to eat his own sister's cooking though may not be so tempting."

Ride he does, and lance for lance neither Alek nor Deidra seem to make any ground against the other in the points. The lances first breaking, then not, then breaking again. Alek just shakes his head,"By the Guardians!" Glaring at the announcer when the rematch is ordered but simply yelling,"Lance!" to his squire. This time is seems the Pretty Knight takes the matter far more serious, or perhaps he was just warming up before, as the first two lances strike true upon the Blue Guard's torso and break, shattering into splitters. And that finish, shattering lance to the head!

The impressive match of equal measure manages to distract the Lohstren Flower as the conversation buzzes around her. Yet when the mention of invitations finally rings within her ear, Morla seems brought back to the present, "Hmm? I… I will see what I can do. I may need to find El and see how things are progressing with him first. Perhaps I can convince him to break long enough to partake in a solid meal. He will have need of the relaxation, I fear." Speaking of her brother, her eyes wander the fields and drift off back towards the Pavillions in the distance with concern, "He should be returning here shortly, I would hope."

"Pig." A name established several times in Xanders direction from Prada. Nudging him with her elbow, she lifts her hands upward as the walk, "It is going to take far more than loaded dice dear one to ever gain that as you well know."

A low grumble can be heard from Deidra's helmet as she wheels her horse about after the first three passes, tossing the remains of her last lance into the dirt. A short moment of hesitation and a glance towards the herald, and the Blue Guard accepts a fresh lance from the red-haired lad. "Hrrm, another three passes then…" she mutters as she salutes once again to Alek before charging at him once again.

Alas, the Guardians seem to have shifted their favor from her to that pretty knight today. Reeling in her saddle as the first lance splinters after a hit to her abdomen, Deidra is hit next to her left shoulder, Alek's next lance splintering again. But it is in the last pass, when the Blue Guard rides at the Gothron with a loud displeased roar that he manges his greatest pass so far. The lance shatters as Deidra receives a hit to her helmet, and for a moment it seems she might fall of her horse.

"Oh, aye I know.." Xander responds in a chuckle as he walks with the Lady Varghem. "I wouldn't dream of you so foolishly gambling away something so dear to you." he comments, a bump of his hip to hers as they walk.

When Jerric spots her, Amira smiles up at him and waves her little Rhaedan flag. "I was, but I was.. worried about something." Her eyes move over him in a sisterly manner, concern weighing heavy in her gaze. "Want to go to the stands, our sister is there, I got to at least catch a glace of her. Will she be allowed home soon?"

"My…My….It seems that Pretty Knight got riled up there folks. Did you see that last blow!! Maybe there is something to that Knight besides being pretty afterall!" Shouts out the announcer. "Now let's see if he has anything left, the final match for Tournament Champion, with the winner claiming a fine Lohstren horse and golden lance….Duke Pawel and Sir Alek!"

Niniane watches her brother as he emerges and is so closely followed by her sister, who seems to be holding her head high and looking rather aloof at the moment, "Humm." Passes the older northern princess' lips as she watches Sammel lose to the southern Duke and she frowns slightly, "A pity, I know I have seen him joust better in the past." She comments idly to herself as she continues to observe the jousters and claps for the Westmark knight at his victory.

<FS3> Deidra rolls Horsemanship: Good Success.

The chestnut courser prances a little to the side, feeling the tight grasp on the reins loosen a touch. It is then that Deidra seems to wake from her stunned state, and with a grunt she brings her steed back under control. "Well ridden, Sir Alek!" she offers with a slightly displeased voice, before she rides to the side to dismount - very carefully.

Jerric smiles and hold out his left hand, the right is kept up across his belly protectively. "Yes, but lets stop by Sammel first, the luck was not with him today." And so Jerric leads his sister in the direction of one of his long time friends.

Tamara looks towards the blue guard as Deidra losses and if she does catch her eye gives the woman an encouraging smile, "Well ridden Sir Deidra." The Taniford steward calls out and waves her hand to Prada and Xander as they depart, though her attention goes back to the competitors as Pawel is called for the final, "Once again I try and not worry, but alas I am apparently full of it."

Roltoff made it over to where Sir Deidra's tent is and as the knight dismounts he moves to assist. His is all smiles as he whispers something to the valliant knight. While she readies herself.

Not even time to dismount and rest after that round of six lance, Alek growls behind his helm. Grabbing up the next lance offered up to him, Alek rides once more into place, waiting for the southern Duke to take his place. Alek giving a far more restrained hint of a salute in respect to his opponent for this next round. Reins twitching as the grip of his hand tightens upon them, waiting to ride. Again.

"It happens to the best of us." The Queen replies as she leans back she turns her head and covers her mouth slight with an elegant hand to speak to a guard. "Both. If they feel need to bring a single guard they may, though more. Assure them they are under our protection and will not be touched." she then turns her attention back to the joust in silence for a moment, "Soon Princess." she comments as the guard leaves her side heading toward Prince Jerric.

Nodding a little bit as he sees the way the other tilt goes, Pawel smiles a little as he hears the next announcement. Getting the lance and getting ready, he rides to his side of the field, offering a grin as he passes Alek's location. "Warmup done, Sir Alek," he remarks, offering the man a grin. Well over on the other side, he lowers the visor, and gets ready to charge off down the field again.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Alek=Joust Vs Pawel=Joust
< Alek: Great Success Pawel: Success
< Net Result: Alek wins - Solid Victory
<FS3> Opposed Roll — Alek=Joust Vs Pawel=Joust
< Alek: Great Success Pawel: Success
< Net Result: Alek wins - Solid Victory
<FS3> Opposed Roll — Alek=Joust Vs Pawel=Joust
< Alek: Failure Pawel: Good Success
< Net Result: Pawel wins - Solid Victory

Fresh air helped, away from the immediate stink of horseflesh and too many bodies, even if the sound of the joust continuing haunting him from behind. One by one his gauntlets were pulled off, revealing hands that were both long fingered and strong. Gradually his temper was fading, even if it was taking a while. With a gesture that spoke of long habit, he combed his blonish hair back and away. His eyes tore away from the distant skies, returned to the present. A sigh followed on the back of a grunt of frustration, and then he gave it all up. Wordlessly his gauntlets were shoved into his squire's hands as he began to make his way back.

With the way he cradles his other hand, Amira does not lose her look of concern, but she attempts to mask it, worried more about him than she lets on. As he leads her over to the others, she follows alongside, her entourage keeping up with them as well. "It has been a fun day for me." Her hand still closed around the little flag sporting the colors and heraldry of her house.

A smirk comes to hear Duke Pawel's words,"It is fitting, Duke Pawel." Alek giving his horse a hard kick when the first flag is dropped and doe prove warmup over as his lance smashes into Pawel's visor. "Quite right, Your Grace, warmup is over!" Calling as they head back for the second round. A round that ends with similar results, his lance smashing once more into the Duke's head as his lance just glances off of Alek's chest without breaking. But he finally seems to be losing steam as that last lance just breezes past Pawel, and the Duke finally breaks a lance upon him.

Coming to Sammel he grins "I see you still hold that temper of you, Sammel," Jerric says to the Riedel. "Bad luck there on the lists. Shall we go see to the winners." Then he motions to Amira "And you of course would not forget my sister, no?"

Accepting Roltoff's offered help in dismounting, Deidra winces as she reaches the ground. Her helmet is severely dented by that last impact and it takes the Blue Guard a few moments to remove it from her head. It drops to the ground finally, just in time for her to hear the sellsword's whispered words. And with a weary smile she offers some words in reply, at a lower volume.

Taking the hits, but managing to stay on his horse, Pawel seems to be feeling the effect of those hits. It's a bit lucky that he manages to break that lance in the end, before he brings his horse to a stop, and dismounting a bit unsteadily. "Well done, Sir Alek," he calls out to the man, with a nod, as he removes his helm now.

Sarah lazily makes her way to a vender, and immediately accosts him for honey-roasted nuts! The man haggles back at her in a fluster, but the red-headed archer is persistent and really quite spirited, and eventually the man flails and scoops her a hand full for a single copper. Grinning brightly, Sarah starts to trot her way up the steps of the stands, looking for a seat.

Sammel offered both of the royalties the public gestures of courtesy. "Of course I do," he murmured, his eyes on Amira. "Your Highness." Though informality soon slipped into his voice and manner, a crooked grin and a roll of his eyes. "I don't know what happened. I do know I felt like doing things that are best not to speak of publicly." There was still a hint of temper in his eyes, but it was one he managed to laugh at, a rich and easy sound that filled the air. "Ah well. Next time. I suppose we should. Smile and congratulate and be graceful, yeah?"

"There we have it folks, who would have thunk it, that Pretty Knight has some skill after all! Your Tournamenet Champion, Sir Alek Gorthron!" The announcer having the medals run out as he calls them,"With Duke Pawel as our second, and Sir Deidra taking third!! It's been exciting folks! Remember to give your congradulations to our winners!"

As they approach Sammel, Amira remains at her brothers side, yet slightly back, the four of her guards around her and her handmaid directly at her side. On her cheek is a rainbow painted and her hand is clasped around a Rhaedan flag. At the greeting, she offers a smile, completely polite and proper. "My Lord," inclining her head in return, struggling to find the balance from her usual friendly self to not wanting to give even more fuel to the false rumors and she usually errs on the side of appearing unfriendly now. "It was a good ride."

Tamara poltiely claps for the winner but she looks more worried then anything towards the Duke of Wolveshire. The red head looks like she is about to rise but sits herself back down firmly and shakes her head, "He did well right?" She asks Morla at her side still obviously confused.

Jerric laughs deeply and nods "There was a lot of bad luck out there. Did you see that Black Knight, had that pretty knight beat he did till it seems he got hurt." Looking over his shoulder at the crowd "At least it wasn't one of those bloody Tanifords that won. That Knight Alek, he imprsses me. Lets go show our support to our Rhaedan Brother." Still his right hand is held close to his body but if there is pain, and surely there is, he masks it well.

It is then that a Squire in Rhaedan Royal surcoat runs up and speaks to the List Master. "Sir, my Prince would wish to bestow a prize on the winner, if you could get Sir Alek wait?"

Roltoff smiles as Deidra and shrugs, "how about some Pie at the clam.. figgure you've at least earned that much of an award." he looks to Alek and then adds. "you fought well, I was sure you had him, but as you say I guess the gods favored him slightly more than yourself."

As a squire runs up to the annonuncer, the man blinks and turns back to the crowd,"Hold up folks…seems…." leaning back to the squire and nodding,"there is something a bit more….Sir Alek…if you would hold up a moment."

As the queen sends off her messenger, Niniane's eyes roam back to her brother and sister speaking to Sir Sammel now. A look of interest to her brother's hand but it's brief before she straightens her shoulders and returns to her proper stature. The princess does clap politely for the winner, her eyes scanning this Sir Alek with faint interest for the over pretty knight before her attention returns to watching the messenger make his way to Jerric.

Sarah blinks, looking surprised as the announcer makes his awkward statement. Raising an eyebrow, she stops her ascend and backtracks, heading down the steps again. Popping a few honey-roasted nuts in her mouth, she chews as she leans against the balcony railing.

Already having been heading out, Alek stops in his tracks when the announcer calls his name again. Turning back and walking back towards the announcer again, a hand bushing some of the blond hair away from his pretty face. The Westmarkian Knight shooting a questioning look before he gives the crowd a charming smile. "Yes?"

Again he laughed, louder this time when Amira suggested it was a good ride. His gaze turned shrewdly bemused as he shook his head. "I seem to have forgotten the part where you are blind, Princess. Good ride. Good one." His attentions turned back to Jerric, nodding. "You're right, of course. Lead the way." He still suffered occasional short busts of snort-chuckling. Good ride. There was an edge to his humor, though, as his eyes swept the joust in search for the victor who was due proper congratulations and support.

"Well done, Sir Alek, Sir Deidra," Pawel congratulates the others, offering them a brief smile. Waiting for the rest of the ceremonies to be done, before he slowly starts making his way off the field now, grimacing a little to himself as he does.

Without waiting, Amira nods to Jerric and gives Sammel a curious look, though she says nothing further, she does give him an amused smile, her impeccable manners kicking in. How would it be to tell someone they had done terribly?

"Some pie?", Deidra replies to Roltoff's suggestion, wincing again as she moves towards the horse to pat it. Its reins are already in the hands of the trusted servant, Henrek. "I'll better rest a little, if you don't mind. Maybe I'll drop by a little later, but don't be dispappointed if I don't."

"Your Grace, well ridden.", the Blue Guard offers politely to Pawel. "And… you as well, Sir Alek." comes after a short moment of hesitation. "There is no way to dispute your victory, Sir. So accept my congratulations on your win."

As the three begin to make their way back to the list, the messenger catches up to Jerric. Words are spoken and his eyes dart first to Nin and then to the Queen. A nod of his head before he turns back to the Squire "Tell your Queen that she has my most sincere thank you for allowing this." He looks to both Sammel and Amira "The Queen is going to allow us to have a friendly visit with Nin," Jerric continues on till the come to Sir Alek. Tentatively he puts his right hand on the Knight's shoulder "Well done, Sir, well done." He then turns to the crowd "As a token to the outstanding victory by Sir Alek, I will be commissioning a set of the best Brigandine that our armor smiths can make in Rhaedan. Worth of a Prince." His voice rings out loudly so that even those in the far corners can hear. "A true champion this day, he shall we awarded so."

Roltoff cocks his head. "you know I cant say one way or the other on that decree sir Deidra. Every time you enter the tavern your presence brightens it up.. or maybe its just me.. " as he gives the knight a teasing smile. " I will though try to keep a slice of pie set asisde for you, for when you grace the Tavern again."

Sarah whistles and cheers at the announcement, "Yeah! Well done! Woo!" Glancing about furtively, the adventuress then ducks off into the crowd, munching on her tasty treats and meandering her way back into the racuous final night of the circus.

Tamara waits patiently until the winners are announced before the Taniford lady gets up from her seat and moves past the people to get to Pawel's side, "Are you alright." She can be heard murmuring before smiling brightly to him, "You did wonderfully my dear." She then says following beside him in his retreat as he leaves.

Alek bows his head to the Duke and in turn to Deidra,"Well met, Your Grace and Sir Deidra. You both rode well." Sending a smile to Pawel,"It does seem we do well after a bit of warm-up, it was good to finish a meeting for once, Duke Pawel." But then the Prince is there and Alek is offering a proper and respectful bow, ending up with that hand upon his shoulder. Ice blue eyes widen before blinking at the announcement is made. His husky voice murmuring,"You are most kind and generous, Prince Jerric. I shall live each day to be worthy."

Blue eyes drift to Niniane as Jerric speaks of her and the Queen and the hope in her eyes burns bright. Is it true? Will she truly get to see her sister and speak with her again? It takes Amira a moment to realize that Jerric was making a speech and offering a prize far beyond that expected and she applauds with the rest of the crowd, though her eyes only leave her sister long enough to glance at Alek. "Well done, Sir, very well done." Though now she is ready to assure herself that Niniane is truly well.

Sammel gave Jerric a look of acknowledgement at that bit of information. Then they were with the champion. "My congratulations, Sir Alek." Not that he had actually been watching the final two jousts, but the fact that he had won still allowed Sammel to say perfectly truthfully: "You showed yourself a shrewd lancer today." Despite himself, his gaze slid in Pawel's direction as well. A quiet study, though if he was caught in the fact he'd smile and dip if his head with respectful congratulations there as well.

"I'm a bit tired," Pawel replies to Tamara, before he adds, "I guess I should go lie down for a bit…" Another quiet smile, as he looks to the lady. "I had hoped to win it, but the good Sir Alek was too strong this day." Another brief pause, before he adds, "And see, the favor helped me well today."

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