Wolveshire Tournament: Sword on Foot

Wolveshire Sword on Foot
Summary: The Sword on Foot event of the Wolveshire Tourney
Date: 28/94/2913
Related: Opening Feast and the Wolveshire Tourney
Pawel Aethel Roltoff Collette Amira Stefan Krakensteel Samwell Victricia Eldrick Paidrig Sammel Carisse Caerwyn Tylon 

Tournament Grounds, Wolveshire
A green field is the setting for the tournament grounds in the shadow of Wolveshire Castle. There's the list for the jousting, as well as room for pavilions of the various participants in the tournaments. A cold steel rail has been put up to keep the lower stands, meant for the commoners, from the area for the participants. There's also a higher stands for members of nobility and other very important people to enjoy the events from, with more comfortable seating and a better view.
To the north, one can get back to the road between the town and the Castle.
Sun April 28 1329

A bright and sunny afternoon is the setting for the first of the events of the tourney, the Sword on Foot. There's a good crowd, both in the noble and the commoner sections, waiting for the actual event to start. Stepping forward, a master of ceremonies is ready to call out the first match.

Sammel is clad in a red-tinted full plate armor, as is adequate for such things as tourneys. He rides atop his black-haired destrier, Torment, as he waits for a kite shield to be fitted to his arm. A sword is held low by the other.

The youngest daughter of house of Lohstren already found her place to watch the first event of the tourney from as close, as she can. The wind mischievously plays with the stook of tress curly dark brown hair on her head. There is a small burgundy ribbon, which tries to keep some of these crazy curls in place unsuccessfully. Collette looks a little bit worried, but there are much more excitement in her eyes colour of amber.
She is spruced up with the gown made of lightweight fabric. That's why the small breeze easily finds the way under her skirt embroidered with a golden thread, rising it a little bit and baring her feet in black elegant shoes. The body of the chemise has the same black colour, however, long sleeves with a very wide bell sleeve cut at an angle are coloured in the same dark burgundy colour as her ribbon belt on a waist. Moreover, the young lady covers her shoulders from the cool with a surcoat with large cut-outs on both sides with no sleeves made of white rabbit fur.
Her look slips through the place, catching each person, who comes and goes, sometimes giving a warm glance to the guard behind her back. He stands proudly with the same excitement in his eyes. The blazon of house of Lohstren glitters on his armour.

One of the many armored figures is that of a swordsman in resplendent red hued plate with the image of Ravas scrolled in along the shoulders and chest. The helm is a piece of art, the beak of the fiery bird shown as it moves about. The eyes beneath the beak are well hidden and who exactly is within the armor is uncertain. The other red clad knight is gazed up at by the one on foot. Sammel gets a nod of respect from the shieldless figure, a dirk and broadsword strapped respectively to each hip.

Paidrig fastens the kite shield to his brother's arm, the man himself dressed in leathers today that suggest he's not in the sword on foot challenge. "Brother, you do realize that they don't usually allow you to ride into combat area on a horse. Something about the 'on foot' part and all." He chuckles up at Sammel. "Still, if you're determined to do so, you may need this shield to fend off all the guards that are going to swarm you."

Amira Rhaedan has come to watch the evening events. If she has anyone in particular she wants to win, she has not mentioned it to anyone. She sits alone very near where the sword on foot competition will be held, though very nearby are two Rhaedan guards. A cloak is about her shoulders boasting the colors of her house and her hair is braided and rests over her shoulder along the front of her dress.

The second son to the late Duke of Wolveshire is clad in Full Maile, a surcoat with the heraldry of the House Varghem covering most of his chest and waist. Aethel carries a blunted sword on his hands, swinging it in the air as if to get warmed up from the competition that shall quickly follow. His expression it's rather eager as he glances the crowd, trying to see who has come to watch the event and waits for his name to be called.

Being present among the participants, Pawel is wearing his armor now, and having his sword ready. Looking between the other participants, he waits to see who they call on first now. Looking a bit relaxed as he surveys the competition.

Maura is spectacting today, so she doesn't have her armor and bow with her as it would likely upset people. She does have her lucky leaf pin in her hair, though and is wearing a simple, almost long tunic sort of affair with long, flared sleeves. It's modest and a little on the severe side, but warm enough that she's not going to hibernate during the event. She even has a shawl over her shoulders as well. Time to watch. She stands on her tippy toes, and manages to find a good spot to watch the goings on. It's near Collette, though unintentionally. There is a polite smile, but - here come the participants!

"Hogwash. It is far easier to ride in full plate than it is to walk around in it. For the sake of sportsmanship, though, I shall dismount. To my enemies' misfortune, brother," Sammel comments to Paidrig with a grin, hopping down and reaching out to squeeze the man's shoulder in a brotherly fashion.

Somewhere along the edges of the area of combat, Tylon watches on waiting for the event commence. Something more than a spectator, with her normal Healer's satchel worn over the navy blue priestess robes chosen for the day. The darker blue does tend to hide blood better, should the worse befall any of the competitors and they be in need of her or any of the other Healers called to give their services during the many events. For now, clam eyes look on after a briefly murmured prayer is offered up, the words lost in the drone of noise from the gathered crowd.

Paidrig nods to his brother and laughs, "Oh, I suppose, but still you know how it is, several of those gathered here today may not be able to afford horses, I hear it's been troublesome down here, and all." It's a friendly quip to Sammel before he slaps the man's shoulder plate once he dismounts, "Good, now go out there and make our father proud and all that. Win the hearts of women and you know…swing your pointy stick around, slap ‘em good, brother."

Another contender is present as well and that would be the Lord Protector of the March. Eldrick is wearing full plate as well, very well made by the armorsmiths back home at Estermarch. Since this is a Sword on Foot even, his steed is left in the stables but he still has his most trustworthy squire with him, Zariah. The armor he wears has the sigil of House Lohstren adorned onto the pauldron and there is also a notable addition, a ribbon wrapped around the armor of his right arm. It consists of the colors of House Lohstren with a single flower sewn on. In his hands is a good sized bastard sword, apparently Eldrick's choice of weapon.

Paidrig looks to the other red armored swordsman and nods his head, "Be careful with this one, should you meet him. He's like to want to be all flashy and the like." The flashy one being Sammel. "Still, do give him a good run, if indeed you do cross sticks, for he could use a good whooping every now and again." Paidrig looks away from the two armored folks, out into the crowds that are gathering, his eyes searching, but the longer that they search the less he seems to carry that good cheer that had begun with his brother.

Looking to the crowds for a few moments, the Master of Ceremonies raises his hands as a signal for the crowd to go quiet. When they start quieting down, he raises his voice. "On behalf of House Varghem, I would like to welcome you all to this single elimination sword on foot competition. For our first match, the competitors is Master Roltoff Delmort, and Wolveshire's very own Sir Aethel Varghem! Would the competitors please take their positions?"

Looking around to his fellow competitors and the crowd he knows, Roltoff’s got no fancy armor, nor any flags, representing him, just his combat leathers and his longsword, and shield. He adjusts his shield and salutes those in attendance as he makes for the ring where the competition is to be held, and looks for his opponent and waits patiently for him to arrive.

The knight listens as his name is called by the Master of Ceremonies, Aethel smiles to the crowd through his conical helm and moves towards the indicated position and standing in a rather neutral stance. He waits for his opponent and offers a nod to him, "It shall be a pleasure to fight with you, Mater Delmort." He says, recognizing the man from a pair of previous encounters.

The MC nods as the participants have gotten ready. "Fight well and true, in the name of the Four," he calls out, letting them start now.

Another competitor is the Phantom Dancer. It's hard to say what kind of body is hiding under the armor. Although one could guess him being over six feet and muscular. The armor tinted in a dark color. Almost real dark blue. Perhaps not of the greatest quality but still enough to be good enough, so to speak. The helmet is a simple one made to cover the entire face with a blank solid one over the mouth and a bit of room for his blue eyes. The armor itself seeming almost wavy with the neck being protected around by rounded shoulders and neck protection all around. Broadsword sitting at his side and a kite shield being settled in. One with Dark blue waves on a black background with gray ghosts in a triangle. One in the middle on top. One bottom left and one at the bottom right of the triangle. As if dancing. The man standing calm and just watching the happening around. With a glance towards the crowds as well. As the fight start his attention goes there.

Aethel steps forward swinging his sword in the direction of Roltoff's shoulder, which doesn't seem to be the best movement. Another attempts are made to the man guts and chest, but none hits the target. "Nice footwork." The knight comments, offering a brief smile before he shifts to a more defensive position as if expecting a counter from the sellsword.

Roltoff smiles as he watches the knight come at him. Heater shield lifting up to block the first attack and he grunts under the hit, his own blade knocking aside the second and manages to beat aside the third strike as he grazes the knights armor. "Not bad yourself, Sir Aethel… " a warm smile on his face.

Hooded and dressed in the colors of house Rhaedan comes another one with long blonde hair. Keeping his face hidden. But with the four usual guards of Stefan's it is perhaps easy enough to guess who it is. Especially as he joins Amira. Leaning in to whisper to her.

Hearing the names called out, Paidrig slaps his brother again, a good, affectionate, sort of brotherly slap that probably rings with a resounding echo in the confines of that armor. "Good show Brother! See that make a good time out of this, anyways, I've got to go find someone, if I miss the whole event, I wish you the best and all that." There's a note in his voice that suggests missing the event may be the more likely option. Still he gives the other red suited swordsman a nod, slowly walking past the both of them towards the throng of people, clearly searching for someone.

Sammel laughs at Paidrig, nodding once to his brother as he waits for his name to come up in the lists. The fight does seem quite impressive as of yet.

Rising from her seat at the names called, Amira stands to watch the events instead of opting to sit. Her attention is on the two, unwavering, as she silently cheers on one or the other of the two. When someone leans in close to her, she smiles in relief as she notices her brother. Peering a bit closer, her smile falters then widens. "Hello, brother dearest."

Collette answers with the smile for the young lady next to her. However, her glance quickly comes back to all the participants, intently looking for her brother. Finally, than her look catches the colours of her house, Collette sighs, however, more nervously than calmly. She sticks her eyes straight to her brother and now she doesn't look anywhere else. Her lips whispers something very silently. Likely, it's some luck wishes. However, than the Master of Ceremonies shouts the names of the first competitors, the young lady full of excitement turns her eyes to the ring, where the fight will begins and just indulges in an interesting show.

Aethel takes a step forward, he trembles a bit and almost falls to ground when doing so. However, he keeps trying to hit his opponent, attempting a series of quick strikes and thrusts, "How could have you blocked that one?" He questions, a bit incredulous, "No one has ever blocked this blow before!"

Roltoff nearly trips over the stumbling knight. "Hey, its sword on foot, not mud wrestling…" he teases and sidesteps one thrust to counter with a slap of the back of his blade to Aethel's shoulder, and manages to tie up his third thrust with his own blade. "First…" grunt "time for everything…" He grins, before pushing off and waiting for the next line of attacks.

Watching his brother fight, Pawel's gaze moves to the stands very briefly. Spotting the Rhaedan princess there, and the one next to her, he starts smiling a little, before he moves over to stand near the stands now, looking up in that direction. "Princes Amira," he calls out to her. "While I know our Kingdoms may not be the best of terms most of the time. But I still have to ask. Would you consider honoring a humble man with a favor, for luck?" Looking back to the combat for a few moments, before he looks up towards the princess again now.

Maura nods and smiles back. She's sitting near Collette, peering out at the competitors. She listens to the MC when he shouts the names of the first competitors. Some distantly familiar perhaps? She's not sure. Her dark green eyes are wide with curiosity. If she were a cat, she'd be long gone by the first rocking chair competition. Her eyes widen a bit at people working out favors.

Both swords hit each other, the sound of clashing steel invading the field. The knight seems to struggle a bit with the sellsword, resulting in both being disarmed. Aethel rushes to grab his sword once again, quickly move to attempt another strike against the shoulder of Roltoff.

The swordsman embodying Ravas tilts their head down, the beak moving as the figure watches the interplay between the first two. But the Shadowed Dancer gets a long look, the tooled work of the wings along the breast plate seeming to move as if in flight. Shoulders roll back and then the figure goes still, focused on the battle rather than searching those that continue to wait.

Roltoff nearly cries out as the collision of blades stings his hand, he manages to grab and roll as he gets it avoiding Aethel’s strike and comes up with a swing of his own that connects with the back of his leg armor, but with no real power.

Hearing her name, Amira looks over and notices the Duke. Offering him a warm smile, she lifts a gloved hand in greeting and only then does she hear the rest of his words and a blush steals over her cheeks. "A favor, Your Grace?" Offering a demure bow of her head, she removes first one glove then the other, placing them on the seat behind her before she reaches up to the braid over her shoulder and begins unbraiding it, removing the intertwined red and gold ribbon from her blonde tresses. Once the ribbon is removed, she holds it out to him on offer. "I wish you the very best of luck, Your Grace."

Aethel pants, a bit surprised by the blow hitting his leg. The knight turns and attempts another blow this time aiming at the upper part of his opponent, however he seems too tired to connect anything really good, "Praise the gods, a fine opponent after all!" He exclaims as he moves towards Roltoff, "I was tired of fighting weaklings."

Roltoff grins as he bats aside the final blow from the knight with his shield and steps forward with a lunge just with enough force that the tip of his blade *clanks* with Aethel's breastplate. "Well it’s not over yet Sir Aethel, as now you’re the one on defense and I become the aggressor." he grins, as he shifts from a defensive shield posture, to that of an aggressive one.

Watching the proceedings, the MC nods a little as he sees the happenings. As he sees that Aethel has done all of his attacks, he calls out. "Change of attacker. Master Delmort to attack."

Roltoff grins as he comes at Aethel now and this time is using his shield for attack as well as his sword, as he knocks past most of the knight’s defenses to land some blows.

Aethel takes a deep breath as the MC announces the change of attackers, he raises his shield to get some protecting, blocking one but missing two of the first strikes made by Roltoff, "Swift, that describes your fighting style." He comments.

"Second matchup is between the Phantom Dancer and Sir Nydan Krakensteel. Combatant please find their places," the MC calls out.

Sir Nydan Krakensteel enters the field. The mysterious figure wears full plate armor, tinted in dark sea blue. Its helmet, forged in the shape of a Kraken, lets four tentacles to fall - two on his chest, and two on his shoulders. The monster's eyes are open visors, matching perfectly the ones of the knight. Little details, patterns of what can be ships, tentacles, or both in a frightening representation, can be noticed when reflecting the surrounding light. Clearly, a careful and fine work has been made in every piece.
Proud steps shorten the distance to his opponent. May it be for the shadow casted by his helmet, or perhaps his eyes are dark enough to be hidden by it, but it would require closer examination to be able to spot them. Let alone to try to read them. The helmet moves around, as if watching the gathered audience, while his left gauntleted hand closes softly in a fist — but it doesn't close completely.
A simple flattened piece of iron the size of a coin is made more artful by the light purple ribbon strung through the hole at its top. Golden hair is braided with the ribbon, worn on his wrist. The blade slides out of its sheath, letting the bright silver steel to shine in clear contrast to his features. And a shield depicting a ship drowning at the attack of the named mythological monster is promptly handed by a little girl, a little squire wearing the same colors. The knight of the Kraken doesn't speak a word, letting the instants before the battle to die in silence.

Roltoff grins at Aethel and nods. "Helps to be quick on the feet, and light armor helps, but you've got good solid skills Sir." He grins as he continues the twin attacks, lunging in with the shield as well as the sword to try and get past the knights solid defenses.

The knight seems to move better this time, raising his to block and evade the incoming blows by Roltoff, despite this, Aethel it's still hit once, "See? I'm getting acquainted with your style, Master." He says.

The Phantom Dancer is watching the fight but as the Duke speaks to someone in the crowd he does look between them. Taking his own time to look over the crowd before raising a hand of his own. Sort of following the duke's lead. A finger pointed as it scans through the different people. As if having a hard time on figuring who to ask from. Finally stopping at Collette. "If I may." Comes a darker voice. A low bass tone in his voice. Might be the armor's fault. "Could I ask for your favor, my lady?"

"Thank you, Your Highness. You honor me," Pawel replies, with a smile to the princess as he takes the offered ribbon, bowing his head politely now. "Thank you, Princess Amira." Turning to look back at the fights now.

Roltoff tries to use his speed and lighter armor to beat past Aethel's heavier armor and logically slower reaction as comes in as a whirlwind of attacks, batting aside the knight shield and sword as hard as he can. Seemingly getting desperate as he can’t afford to lose so early in the match.

Aw! The woman next to her is being asked for a favor. It's kind of sweet. Maura smiles a little at it. She'll alternate watching the results and exchange of favors.

The brother rising to his feet next to Amira. Looking between her and Pawel as the exchange is made. Not saying anything though. Keeping his face hidden still. Finally reclaiming his seat. The hooded Stefan just shrugs.

Aethel is caught by surprise when Roltoff starts his attack series, the Varghem grunts moving fiercely to defend with both sword and shield. He is hit heavily and the tide seems about to turn, however, the knight decides to attempt a new stance, he is able to predict the moves made by the Delmort and parry them with a shield painted in the colours of his House.

Collette flinches a little bit, than she hears someone addressing her. Red roses bloom on her cheeks. However, she quite playfully asks "Me? Favour?" and her fingers take of the burgundy ribbon embroidered with the golden thread from her hair. The wind catches some curls, tossing them onto her face. The young lady brushes her hair with soft fingers and leans closer to the Phantom Dancer. She extends the ribbon "The luck is with you, sir!" and Collette mischieviously winks.

Talking quietly with the people that has been refereeing the first match, the MC calls out. "And the winner is Sir Aethel Varghem, by a score of seven points against six. Congratulations, Sir Aethel." Looking to the second match, to get it started now.

Sliding his sword back into his sheath, Roltoff walks up to Sir Aethel, and offers him his hand. "Congratulations Sir Aethel. Could have sworn I had you, but the better man won." He offers a light smile as he addresses the knight.

The Varghem knight shakes the hand of Roltoff eagerly, seeming quite surprised by his victory, "Thank you, Master Delmort. We should stop by the Inn sometime soon, savoring different kinds of drinks and sharing some insights." Aethel suggests, returning the smile with another.

The Phantom Dancer just chuckles and bows as he get the extended ribbon. "Thank you, my lady." After fastening it he makes his way out to get ready for the fight. Having it visible while not in the way. Taking his sword out and in the ready to start off. "Ready?" He asks. Although not expecting a true answer. Getting ready and letting his opponent be ready before he will start to move in to attack.

Roltoff chuckles softly, "Oh, I’m sure I'll be savoring quite a few flavors of drink while you continue on, sir knight." As he ducks under the fence and collects his bow, and quiver before heading out of the grounds. Head held high even if he doesn't feel like he should until he's out of view.

The knight of the Kraken stares, following the Phantom Dancer with his sight — or so could be said, thinking of the shadow-covered visors as their eyes. When his opponent is ready, the shield trails up, and a nod indicates the match can begin.

"As soon as you are ready, combatants, start," The MC announces, before he adds, "Next match is between the man known as Ravas and the Duke of Wolveshire, Pawel Varghem."

The figure of Ravas watches the first two step off away from each other, that beaked helm tilting before dipping to each figure but not saying a word. As the Kraken mixes with the Dancer, the red hued swordsman waits with patience until the MC announces the next pairing. Helm lifting again, the honey colored eyes beneath consider the Duke and then with deliberate action steps out onto the field to look towards the Duke.
The broadsword is drawn and then the dirk, leaving the masked figure with no shield and two blades. A respectful dip of the beaked head and there is a strafing step to the side and motioning the Duke of Varghem forward.

Having finished getting the ribbon tied around his arm, Pawel grins a little as he hears Aethel being called as a winner. Moving a bit over in his direction, he offers his brother a grin. "Not bad, little brother," he offers, before he hears his own name mentioned. "Well, guess it's my turn to get ready," he offers, putting on his helmet, after having offered a polite nod to the masked figure. Helmet on, he readies his own greatsword now. Waiting for his opponent to be the attacker first.

Having given her favor, it is now a matter of pride. Amira watches as Pawel prepares for his turn, having heard his name called. As he moves away after speaking to her, the Rhaedan offers a warm smile. "You are more than welcome, Your Grace." Her eyes are bright as she watches and waits, though the current competition gets her attention also as she looks towards Collette and offers a lifting of her hand in greeting.

The various matches are watched with calm interest by Tylon, a cant of the head here or there as solid blows are made. Peering more closer at time or two after a combatant takes a particular stumble or crushing blow. A few comments occasionally shared with the priest who stands near her. Leaning to peer with a touch more interest when the Kraken warrior appears, but there is still a general lack of cheering or other such boisterous behavior from the priestess.

Aethel smiles proudly as his brother throws him a compliment, he leans against the fence, watching as it's the turn of the older Varghem to step and clash his sword against the mysterious opponent, "Keep defending like that, brother! Now you just need to hit a little bit hard and the victory shall be yours." He says, visibly delighted by the first movements of Pawel.

The youngest daughter of house Lohstren was staring the fight of two mysterious knights so excited. She intently gazed at each move of one, who had her ribbon. She joyfully clapped each time, he made a wonderful attack. "He is so awesome!" she shouted for the young lady next to her, even gently grabbing her hand. "Oh, I am sorry, I did not wanted…" she withdraws her hand shyly and starts explaining "Such events takes so much emotions! This asking of favour was so unexpected. However, he looks so good in his amazing armour and…" Collette frowns a little bit "I am wondering, who he can be…" Than the fight is over and the winner is the Phantom Dancer Collette just one more time playfully claps with her hands. A wide smile decorates her face.

The broadsword of Ravas leads in, quick and rushing to do some damage. The spry movement brings the swordsman about and the dirk follows. Both claim a blow, though light enough. The next misses and the Duke does a fair job of moving aside but the next is a heavy blow from the broadsword, slamming down across his shoulder with a thud to resound through the field. The red painted unnamed fighter does their best to keep step, weight shifting from front to back foot but the next successive blows are met with parries and footwork that leaves so very little to be found in the way of blows that strike true. The figure does not slow though, continuing through the graceful movements that are practiced if a little rough.

Solid, strong hits are contained by the blue shield. The ship and the Kraken are almost erased by the marks in it, letting many of the hits go through his defense. The clash continues, until the MC announces it is time to change stances. Switching to the blade, the fight continues. The knight in monstrous helmet can assert some hits, but most of them are deflected. Live steel clashes, but, this time, the victory is for the Phantom Dancer.
Getting a little closer, when the winner has been decided, Nydan lets his first words in the tournament to meet his opponent. "I know that voice. You fought well, I just hope to be a better rival in our next time. It was an honor." And a nod, full of respect, is offered before heading out of the fighting field.

Maura is a quiet audience, considering all of the bouts. Her eyes widen now and then. She cheers for the Ravas but the other guy's cool, too. Man, this is tough! And Rolt's and - well, skill is to be applauded, right! Ship vs. Kraken! It's a tough call. It's fun to watch, too. She inclines her head, perhaps trying to figure out who is who among the Mystery People.

Moving in for the defense, Pawel manages to keep most of the blows from hitting him, although a few gets through. "Well fought, sir," the Duke calls out, before it's his turn to switch to the offense now. Moving in with his Greatsword ready.

Eldrick continues to remain at the side, awaiting for the announcement to be made to call him and his own opponent forth. Patience appears to be a virtue for the Lohstren Heir as he stands there in his armor, passively though the helmet is currently not worn. In fact, it is being held by his squire, Zariah. With an impassive wait, he continues to watch the engagements of the other contending pairs, taking note of those competing, their moves, the clean strikes.

The fight is even. The Phantom Dancer living up to his name as he moves fluidly. Though nis does catch him occasionally. He does continue to push and spin and trying to stay standing. Even though his shield is used ever so often it does seem that the movements are more flowing with the sword. The shield used to deflect when needed, but mostly seeming to try and parry with the sword if possible. Finally getting an edge on his opponent to be able to beat him. "Good fight." He offers with a nod. "It was an honor to fight you." He says with that dark voice. "Until next time." Moving out then, to see who wins the next fight. Glancing and nodding to Collette. Patting the favour he got from her.

Having spoken to the judges again, the MC raises his voice again. "And the winner is the Phantom Dancer, with a score of ten to seven. Congratulations! The last fight of the first round is Sir Eldrick Lohstren, Lord Protector of Estermarch against Sir Sammel Riedel of Brivey. Combatants, get ready."

Meanwhile, Pawel's first few attacks does not hit their mark, before he gets a few hits in. And some misses and hits in this close match.

The youngest daughter of Lohstren was watching all the fights quite calmly, except the one, than two mysterious knights were fighting. This one gave her so much excitement… However the Master of Ceremonies shouts her brother’s name. Her eyes once more finds him and Collette just stops breathing. Her amber eyes fulfills with worry and impatience at the same time. Her fingers start nervously running on her kneels. The intent look catches each move of her brother. The young girl's lips are whispering something under her nose again. Likely, it is some luck wishes once more. For this fight she forgets about her mysterious knight.

As the blows are wrought back on the figure of Ravas who holds, catching each and turning them aside in the beginning. A few strike true, but nothing overly strong. It is that second to last blow that has the red plate figure going to knee and stumbling to the side. The helm, beautiful and proud spills free of the figures head and a long golden braid spills free and tumbles against the woman's cheek as it's revealed. Lady Victricia is on one knee but her dirk comes up to meet that last blow and turn it aside, her honey eyes lifting to look at the Duke. Breathing heavily she remains silent a moment before her voice comes out in a rush, "Well fought, your Grace. I think perhaps you have me by one."

When the announcement for Eldrick to take the field is made, he looks over to his squire and reaches out with an empty hand to accept his helm, shooting her a grin. "Well, Ria, looks like it's my turn. Against a Riedel too, better than fighting an Auldholme, they are vicious battle dogs on foot." Though he doesn't say anything about the last engagement he had against one. Once the helm is handed over to him, the Lord Protector slips it over his head, making sure it's fit snuggly and securely. The visor remains raised for the time being though as he steps onto the field, his eyes locked onto his opponent, Sammel. "Sir Sammel, best of luck."

Paidrig had been searching, but there was no such luck in finding that which he sought among the crowds. The battles were only given a passing glance until the one decided that a dirk and blade were the weapons of choice. Something caught his eye and for once the man actually started to pay attention. Watching the duke and mystery knight go at it, his suspicions only grow until such a time that the Iron Lady is revealed. He grunts in whatever emotion it is that he keeps to himself and then begins to wander along the fence towards the staging area.

The faint ring of steel plates hitting against steel plates is heard as Sammel takes the arena, drawing the sword in front of him, the shield raising when he faces his opponent. He spares the man simply a vague salute by lowering his visor as the sword is angled downwards in anticipation for the combat.

Pausing after his blows have been struck, and the mysterious opponent loses his… her helm, Pawel blinks a few times as he sees who it is. Lowering his weapon, he bows his head a little, before he offers the Auldholme Lady a hand to help her to her feet. "Lady Victricia? This is a surprise. Well fought," he offers to her now.

Seeing the way the fight ended, the MC pauses for a few moments. "The Duke of Wolveshire wins by a score of five points to four, against the… Lady Victricia Auldholme," he announces, before the attention goes to the remaining match of the first round.

Dressed in her finest plate, tinted the blue of the Blue Guard of course, Marla slips out into the tourney field late because of duties elsewhere. The navy blue cloak flutters behind her as she walks with a hand on her sword a little wary and despite her bright Taniford armor feeling rather out of place.

Looking to the hand offered to her, the northern Lady offers a faint smile and takes it. "Thank you, your Grace. I was not quick enough for those last blows. Well struck." She compliments him again and lets out a long breath, heaving in a full one once she is to her feet. She dips her head to the Duke and then takes a step back. "You won for my Princess, so I glad for the outcome." The favor from Amira is noted before she moves for her helmet and clears the field, done for the day as she has been struck from the lists. She cleans the beak off, hooking the helm under her arm before striding from the field.

Huh! One of her cousins, likely as not. While Maura's branch of the house family's a little distant, why not? She smiles a little at the exchanges and fights.

When his opponent lowers his visor, Eldrick reaches up with his free hand to do the same before pulling his bastard sword free, holding it in two hands, a firm grip. There is a slight tensing of his body and soon the Lohstren Heir launches himself forward to attack. The bastard sword appears to be his favored weapon and his movements are smooth, unhindered. His opponent is no slouch either as after batting his opponent's shield away for an open first strike, then his next attack is blocked or parried. Eldrick continues to press the attack, unrelenting as if he is trying to give Sammel no time to sure up his defense but towards the end, it appears the Riedel was able to match the Lord Protector's movements, fending off a series of attacks, some coming very close to landing.

Carisse is in the audience watching, settled in and cheering for her brother. She's mostly just enjoying the opportunity to watch all the fun as the fine fighters get out there and have fun beating on each other. For her part, she's settled, with her guards and a lady's maid. Politely watching and not cheering overly loudly. As she watches Pawel and the mystery knight, the fight so close, her hands clasp together and she leans forward. When the fight comes to an end, she relaxes back in her seat, calling out a simple, "Well fought."

When the winner is announced, Amira claps her hands, her face showing her delight. No calls are made out to the field, but her attention had been rapt during the entire event as the two had battled together, blades clashing. Even as the next begins between Sammel and Eldrick, she pays attention to it as well now though she moves to stand near Collette now and offer a smile, leaving her 'brother' behind. "My lady. It looks as if your favor has brought the mystery knight good luck."

It appears that the match is deadlocked for quite a while, with neither knight getting an advantage, until Eldrick's sword strike hits Sammel full on the side and the knight in red collapses, having been vanquished. Pride hurts more than tournament wounds, however, so the opponent receives a cold glare that could mean a thousand deaths if only thoughts were put to deeds. Instead, he simply rises to his feet, ignores the urging of servants and heads out of the arena.

"You fought well." a voice, somehow tired, says softly to the Iron Lady of Auldholme, as she rests after her match. A man, wearing a very simple royal blue doublet, is standing by her side. His hand goes to try to fix his messy dark hair, without any good outcome. And even then, he just smiles.
It is Samwell Taniford, Prince and Knight of the Citadel, looking a little sad, disappointed, but letting his shadow grace to meet Victricia's. "I think I have something that is yours." he adds, extending his closed hand towards her. A little girl in dark blue livery walks by their side, noticeably looking at the two of them. The knight grins, looking a little distracted of the events in the fighting fields right now.

Watching the last fight carefully, the MC calls out. "The score is six to six, and we have a tie-breaking round. One hit each." Watching the last hits, he adds, "And with a score of seven to six, Sir Eldrick Lohstren wins. This means that the second round fights are Sir Aethel Varghem against the Phantom Dancer, and the Duke of Wolveshire against the Lord Protector of Estermarch."

Stepping off to the side, Victricia is cleaning the helm off from its fall. Her blades put back into their sheaths, she looks up towards the last match and offers a faint smile towards the Lohstren but does however watch the Riedel quickly take from the field. Her brows furrow and the Auldholme starts to move, as if to follow after him but stops at the voice. Turning her head to look at the dark haired Prince of Taniford, she offers him a dip of her head. "You are gracious, your highness. Something that is mine?" She glances to his hand and considers and tilts her head, moving her helm to her hip and reaching out to extend her hand to accept it.

Awww. Poor Sammel! But fights are tricky things, with luck often being a factor. The best swordsman in the world can have a bad day if the floor is slippery! Or something. Maura claps, anyways, watching all of the people.

Collette was staring at the fight intently, flinching with each clash of swords, with each swing. At some moments she clapped with her hands. At some moments she gasped. The fight is quite even and it makes just worse for the poor girl, who wishes luck for her brother from all her heart. She does not respond for the Princess at first. Collette just stares at her brother and the heart just beats more and more nervously. However, than the fight ends in the victory she even jumps and hugs the Princess "This is my brother! My brother!" The young girl is so proud about him. Just after all the happiness she understands, that she just hugged the Princess. The young lady withdraws and offers a respectful curtsy "I am so sorry, Your Highness…" she whispers "Oh… and about that mysterious knight… I hope the luck will be with him till the end of the event. I am really excited! He looks so awesome…" Collette turns her shy look down, but just for a few seconds and her sparkling eyes once more finds her brother. But she hears how MC shouts the Phantom Dancer again and her mischievious playful glance finds him. She smiles widely to the mysterious knight "I know he will win again!" she whispers under her nose.

Eldrick knows that the exchanges are a very, very close thing, having struck and being struck as both are skilled knights. When an extra exchanged is called for, the Lohstren once more boldly attacks, this time being able to score a blow while fending off one that comes close. When the Riedel goes down for a brief moment, there is a rather proud smirk that is hidden behind the steel visor. As no words are offered in exchange, the Lord Protector turns and returns to his side and squire, though he does look to the stands, raising a gauntlet hand in salute to those watching. He also catches sight of Victricia as well, in armor, which was a surprise as he had not heard her name when the challengers were announced. A grin is offered in return before he continues on. Pulling off his helm, perspiration visible on his forehead and temple, he hands the piece of armor to his squire, "That Riedel should stick to making wine."

With his name being called once again, the younger Varghem nobleman moves towards the field, making slow movements with his sword as he sights the new opponent, "So, you want to gift us with a mystery?" He questions with a smirk, "Would you let me reveal your identity, should I best you… Phantom Dancer?"

Hearing the MC call out once more, the Phantom Dancer bows his head before drawing his sword and preparing himself. Moving the sword in his hand. "Sure." He offers to the question from Aethel, with amusement. "Just come at me and we shall see who wins." He answers and moves as he waits for his opponent to attack.

The Taniford Prince's hand, closed, containing some object, rests for a moment on Victricia's. The other one comes to cover them, closing the lady's hand as the object changes its owner. "If you lose it again, I would be honored to be the one to return it to you." with a little shrug and a playful grin, his gaze moves quickly to see the next match. Perhaps it was just to avoid the reaction of the Auldholme, or just to look carefully the Phantom Dancer, before it begins.

"Combatants, start your fight!" The MC announces now.

Victricia blinks and then feels the object in her hand, causing her to hesitate and then she furrows her brows. Briefly she looks over at the fight with him and considers. She smiles to herself and then nods her head. "You are gracious, your highness. I had not realize I lost it." A glance over at the Taniford Prince is given before she reaches down for the cloth left where she had put it upon waiting to be called. "If you will excuse me, I need to go get changed and out of this armor." She smiles and with a turn on her foot, she starts to slip off.

Standing at the side of the Lohstren lady, Collette, Amira smiles as she watches the lady cheering on her own brother against Sammel. Transferring her gaze to watching the battle, she flinches when Sammel falls, yet still says nothing between the two. When the lady hugs her, she smiles indulgently and returns the embrace with a radiant smile. "My lady, I do hope your knight goes far in the tournament as well." The one with which she had bestowed her favor upon. "It will indeed be lovely getting to know you, I think."

Carisse has a good seat, and she's watching as her other brother now is on the field, fighting against a mystery knight. The Phantom Dancer. Carisse keeps an eye on her brother, watching with a great deal of hope and excitement. She nods her head to both the combatants, wishing them both good luck quietly. She's dressed for the event, comfortable outside, and settled where she has an excellent view of the field. And perhaps not so much so of the audience as she should.

Back and forth, back and forth. The graceful swiftness of the Phantom Dancer's movements as they block and attack. Both getting in stunning hits against their opponent. Staggering and moving. Though the final cut from The Phantom dancer is indeed a good clean one and he hopes it is enough for the win.

Sure, it's a bummer when one's respective lands lose, but the fights are still pretty exciting. Maura seems pretty okay with things so far. Though, she's quietly wishing she'd been blessed with sword talents and not unintentionally nailing birds with archery talents. But, one can't always get the hand they want out of life, can they? She smiles at favors and conversations and fights.

The Varghem knight listens as the MC begins the combat, he moves fiercely trying to take a good advantage on the very first part of the combat, allowing himself to make some good hits. However, the mysterious knight it's able to break through his defense, attacking him a plentiful times, "I long to see who it's behind this armor, you might be a fine knight." He says, puffing as the blows hits his body.

Samwell sighs and smiles. Finally, he nods courteously at the departing Iron Lady. "I hope to see you soon, Lady Victricia." but his eyes slip to the ground for a moment, making him to add very quickly, before she has walked enough to be out of sight, "And, thank you." a flash of black fire burns in his sight, leaning back to retrieve something. That done, he makes his way towards the tribunes, where many nobles and small folk are cheering the contenders. This time, no more attention is given to the Phantom Dancer.

Pawel has turned his attention back to the fight at hand now, nodding a little as he watches. Watching a bit thoughtfully for now, he frowns briefly as he sees that last one from the Phantom Dancer. "Well fought," he says quietly as he watches the end now.

The MC watches carefully, before he calls out the result. "And advancing to the final round, with the score of 11 to 7, is the mysterious Phantom Dancer. Congratulations." A brief pause, before he adds, "And in the match to see who he will meet in the final, it is the Duke of Wolveshire against the Lord Protector of Estermarch."

The youngest daughter of Lohstren puts her hands in front of her as she would be praying, while watches the fight of mysterious knight. However, it is not a pray, just a thrill makes to do that. Collette's lips whispers "The Phantom Dancer… The Phantom Dancer… That sounds so good…" Her eyes catches each move of the man. "It would be an honour, Your Highness, to know you better too," she answers for the Princess, but gazing at the fight. The young lady watches the show quite calmly as she would know, that the knight with her ribbon will win. With each amazingly good swing of his sword, lady Collette grins from ear to ear. Finally, than it is obvious, that her mysterious knight win, the loudest applause in the crowd is hers to the Phantom Dancer. "I knew he will win!" she winks for the Princess but she quickly frowns "But my brother will win too… I believe. So, if they both meet in the final… Oh, that is so exciting event!" Now the young lady concentrates her attention on her brother.

Paidrig had been wandering to intercept the spirited Ravas bearing woman when the Southern Prince had intercepted her. Standing off at a distance, he merely watches the exchange until it comes to its conclusion and then he pushes through the last of the onlookers and wanders along the fence line. His brother storming off is enough to set fire to the man's feet and he moves with some urgency to intercept both the fire-swordswoman and the fiery Riedel. He doesn't call out their names, merely catches up to the former, and gives her a rap on the shoulder armor, "You did well, had it been anyone else, I am sure you would have advanced," he tells her then looks in the direction of his brother, "Come, we must stop him, he's going to give way to anger soon and we need to make sure he's away from anyplace that he could cause serious harm to."

Arriving late — which happens, every now and again — Caerwyn pauses briefly to take a look around. Lifting his left hand to lightly brush a bit of hair from his face, he then starts to make his way towards the stands. He picks his way carefully amongst those already present, not wishing to jostle folks too much. A glance is given towards the ongoing fights, keeping tabs on things there. Unless he's stopped, he aims for a seat somewhat near to the area where Carisse is. It's an empty seat, so no reason not to claim it.

The rap on the shoulder causes Victricia to turn but finding Paidrig there catches her by surprise. "Paidrig…" The lack of title comes in her unexpected meeting of the Riedel. She nods her head though, looking after Sammel who was not the best of losers. "Of course we can." Her blades move at her hips, swaying with her stride as it picks up, long legs carrying her easily at the younger Riedel's side as her brows furrow. She passes some of the stands and notes Maura. She calls out, "Cousin! Later we must speak!" She lifts a gauntleted hand and grins, giving it a wave before she is moving to catch up again to try to catch Sammel with his brother.

After wiping away the perspiration and watching the rather skilled exchange between Mystery Phantom and one of the Varghems, Eldrick watches as the final blows are made with the victor clear. Taking in a long breath and slowly releasing it, the Lord Protector resets his mental thoughts and extends a hand to his squire once more for his helm. Once it is in his hand, he brings his right arm up and kisses the ribbon there, on the flower, "I will try to win another for you, Sister." With that, he slips on his helm and strides forth to the field of contest. Bringing his bastard sword to his hand, he raises it in salute to the Duke of Wolveshire. Despite both serving the Tanifords, the fierce rivalry is indeed there, at least for Eldrick.

"Sir Eldrick. Good luck," Pawel offers with a similar salute with his greatsword, before he puts on his own helmet and moves over to his place on the field now. Studying the Lohstren for a few brief moments, he gestures for the man to go first.

And the MC calls out. "Combatants, strike when ready!"

Garnering enjoyment from the reaction Collette holds for the event, Amira remains at her side, having found a budding friendship with the southerner. When the next is announced, the Rhaedan is very much keeping her attention there on the exchange, each metallic clanging of swords echoing through the whole field. "Oh Collette, it is a difficult match for both, it seems."

With the salute and words spoken by Pawel in return, Eldrick reaches up and lowers the steel visor over his face and once the gesture to approach is made by the Duke, the Lord Protector obliges. Once more, the Lohstren goes for bold, hard strikes with his two-handed grip on the bastard sword. The Varghem's defenses are hard to bypass at first but soon enough, a few light hits sneak through. Then with more successful hard blows are rained down on his opponent, two good strikes are made.

Maura blinks, and smiles as she's called out to and waves it. She waves back, "Sure thing!" Wavewave. "You were awesome!" Well, Victricia and Sammel both, really! But alas, swords are not Maura's strong point.

There are a few quite good hits in the attacks he faces, and Pawel takes a few deep breaths as he prepares for his own turn to attack. Moving in for the Lohstren, he prepares to deliver some solid hits with his own greatsword now.

Carisse watches carefully, to see how Aethel does. "Oh, too bad," she can't help but say. "Well fought, well fought." She then goes quiet again, since there's another brother in the way of danger, so to speak. Her hands are clasped in front of her, held tightly, as she sits and watches the fighting. Softly she murmurs, "Come on, Pawel."

Paidrig's pace slows a mite when Victricia calls out to the cousin. The Northernman, definitely not looking like he took part in the events today, is dressed in his leathers and he just gives the other woman a nod of his head in passing. His brother is clearly on his mind and he resumes the faster than a walking pace finally catching up to his brothers with the Lady Victricia at his side, "Brother," he calls out from several feet away, "Let's go for a walk," he tells the other Riedel, indicating an area of the fields that is obscured from view, but still open enough to give them a chance to talk.

Moving in for the attack now, Pawel works on raining his blows down on the Lohstren. He doesn't seem to get as many solid hits in as his opponent, and as he's done he pushes his sword into the ground as he moves to remove his helmet. Studying Eldrick rather carefully for the moment, he takes a few deep breaths now. Taking a little while before he speaks, he finally nods. "Well fought, Sir Eldrick. Good luck in the final…" The words come easily enough, but those that know him probably know there's that temper threatening to break through now. A graceful loser might not be what the Duke of Wolveshire can be considered. That done, he lifts up his sword again and strides away from the competition.

Blows from the larger, more dangerous great sword wielded by the Duke comes at him but Eldrick stands firm as his own bastard sword is raised up to meet strike after strike. The ring of steel can be heard as the first is parried, then the second, five in fact. The Lord Protector's defense is strong, his own blade just a tad quicker in this exchange and soon enough, he can tell who the victor is between the two. Lowering his blade and holding it with one hand, Eldrick uses the other to raise his visor, bowing his head to his opponent, "Thank you, Your Grace." Through the open visor, there is a fierce look of pride for his victory but also respect for the Varghem.

Maura nods back. Huh. Wonder if they're okay? Maybe she should go find them. She's turning her head to glance at the final now and then, but she's slipping out of her seat to go catch up with the small group wandering out.

"And the winner, by a score of eight to five, the Lord Protector of Estermarch, Sir Eldrick Lohstren. Congratulations!" The MC announces this, waiting for a few moments now. "This means that our final match for today is between the Phantom Dancer and the Lord Protector of Estermarch. Combatants, take your places. And good luck!"

Collette claps for her brother "You are the best in the whole kingdom! I know that!" However, noisy crowd muffles her voice. Collette turns to the Princess "I am so sorry, that the man, you gave favour to, had to fight with my brother," the youngest Lohstren chuckles and offers a warm smile to the Princess. The second fight of her brother, Collette watches quite excited, but not too much. "However, I feel my mysterious knight will have to meet my brother too…" Collette whispers with a bunch of emotions inside her heart, which objects each other. However, the victory of Eldrick gets lots of applause from his sister "I knew it!" The young girl turns to the Princess "That was a good fight," she winks for the Amira. However, now a worried shadow flashes in the girl's eyes. She turns amber look to both men, she wishes to win "Is it possible to have a draw?" she whispers. "Dearest brother!" she shouts in a proud voice full of hope, that he will win. However, she gazes at the Phantom Dancer. Curiosity and playfulness glints in her eyes. Obviously, she would like that he could win too.

A hand is waved by the Phantom Dancer to Collete as she cheered as he won. Chuckling a bit as she does the same for Eldrick. Eyes going to Aethel as well. "Nice fight. Sorry to disappoint about the identity." He offers calmly. Seeing the back and forth of Collette as he is to meet her brother. As the MC mentions the finalists, he raises a hand to the air at his name. Then moving to get in position and taking out his sword to be ready. "Let's dance, sir." Letting the other man go first.

Watching Pawel and Eldrick, Amira cannot help but wince with each swing of the blade. When it is over and the victor is the Lohstren, the Rhaedan leans over and hugs her newfound friend. "Congratulations, my lady." Though that means…" It will be a difficult one to watch. "It was a very good match, though now the finals." She is standing at the edge of the field as she watches the happenings. Following Collette's example, she cheers too, verbally this time. "Good luck!" Having a good idea who the mystery knight is.

"Good day, Lady Carisse," Caerwyn offers, once he's nearer. A glance is given to the field, as the results are announced. "I would hope that it's been an enjoyable tournament to watch, my Lady," he adds, a smile coming to the corners of his lips. Then his attention returns to the field, watching things there for the time being.

With the Duke departing off the field, Eldrick takes the time to look at the spectators and he is able to see both the jubilant sister of his, the youngest and her side is the Rhaedan Princess. A hand is raised in a motionless, gauntleted wave to the two until his attention moves to the announcer as the final match is announced. His opponent, the Mystery Knight that had bested everyone in his bracket so far, just like the Lohstren did.
Eldrick had remained on the field since he had just finished his previous fight against Pawel so when the Phantom Knight joins him, the Lohstren studies the unknown knight. With a nod of his head as acknowledgement, the Lord Protector lowers his visor and raises his blade in the ready position. Once he receives the go ahead to proceed again, Eldrick does just that. Advancing against his opponent, the bastard sword is raised once more for the final match and like before, continuous, relentless assault is the Lohstren's plan. Blows continue to rain down at his opponent, the Mystery Knight, intent is to bypass the other knight's defenses.

Having done well so far it seems his luck has run its course as he faces Eldrick. The Phantom Dancer unable to land any good hits at all against the man. At the end just falling to his knee and resting the sword in the ground. "You're a good knight. Next time I will get you though." He offers before rising and stepping away again. To let the champion get crowned. Turning to look towards the others. A pat to the favour of the lady. Untangling it before reaching it to Collette. "Thank you, my lady. It got me far. But not past your brother."

"And the winner, with a solid nine points against nothing. Sir Eldrick Lohstren, Lord Protector of Estermarch!" The MC calls out. "Congratulations, Sir Eldrick!"

Meanwhile, having seen the last match from a bit further away, Pawel has started heading off, back to the Castle, without a word now.

Collette sticked breathless attention to this fight: her brother against the Phantom Dancer with her burgundy ribbon embroidered with a golden thread. People, who were closer to her, could see, that the young lady followed with her curious amber eyes mysterious knight much more than her brother. Maybe she trusted in Eldrick strongly or maybe the young heart was too excited about the man, who asked a favour. However it was obviously, that she was worried about the Dancer more. Seeing her brother winning, the young lady smiles widely, but the shadow flashes in her eyes. She bites her lip and whispers under her nose "I wanted him to win… But… My brother is my brother - uncontrollable," Collette sighs "However, my favour brought him to the final and I think he is a winner already!" now the whisper is to the Princess. Collette claps for her brothers victory, but not so excited as at first. But the young lady looks quite happy and pleased by such an amusing event. Though Collette gives applause to her brother, her curious look follows the Phantom Dancer. Than he comes closer, the young lady reaches for ribbon, her hand touches his and she grins whispering "It is quite unfair, that my favour had to fight against my sisters," the young lady chuckles and adds "However, you still are the winner and I am very happy, that my ribbon had a change to be in a such amazing knight's hands!"

Carisse looks up as she hears her name, rising to curtsey briefly and politely to Caerwyn. "Lord Caerwyn," she greets with a smile and a nod. "I have enjoyed the bouts so far, though would be perhaps happier if one of my brothers was in the final bout." She manages a small shrug. "But so it goes, and they both fought well. I shall have to find them and tell them so. And you? Welcome to Wolveshire, and I do hope you are enjoying your stay."

When Eldrick waves to the both of them, Amira gently nudges Collette and heat infuses her own cheeks as she nods in return. Once the fighting begins though her eyes round as he attacks relentlessly, sword striking with precision every single round. As the mysterious knight is unable to counter or parry even once, a hand lifts to her lips and she makes a distressed sound. After it all ends, she inhales sharply and she does applaud for Sir Eldrick, watching the mystery knight return the favor, she winks at him briefly. "Well fought, Sir Knight, well fought." Inclining her head to who she assumes is her brother. Then her gaze seeks and remains on Eldrick and there is a renewed look of admiration there for him. Offering a curtsy to the Lohstren heir, she demurely lowers her head, giving him the respect he deserves for being the victor.

"Thank you for the compliment. I suppose it did go well. Although bonds of blood are quite thick. Wanting or not." Phantom Dancer tells Collette before pulling back. Nodding to Amira as well. "Thank you." Seeming in a good mood still though, not minding the loss too much. Soon he is vanishing. With 'Stefan' Staying with his guards all around him. Covering him quite well. Waiting for Amira it seems.

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