Lightstar Family/Adaria/Tourney Host 01/PFE
Pillow Fight Extravaganza
The herald began to announce the day's main event in one of the open squares.
"Hear ye, hear ye, the um..."
He squinted his eyes to make sure he had read correctly before continuing.
"The first Pillow Fight Extravaganza will begin shortly after the noon meal. Prospective contestants are encouraged to begin signing up now, though you may join by simply showing up at the allotted time. The winners of each bracket will be given free spots on the judging panel for tomorrow's um... Creative Cooking Contest. The admission fee for the Pillow Fight Extravaganza is simply um... a what?? Um, ahem. The admission fee is simply having an inner child and a willingness to laugh as you bash people on the head with soft, fluffy pillows!"
The man shook his head in disbelief and then moved on to the next location for a repeat announcement.
Adaria finished perusing her scribes' work with the latest batch of welcome notes to the new arrivals. Everything looked to be in order, so she smiled and stamped each lavender-scented paper, then waved the messengers over to collect them. A tournament official poked his head into the room and cleared his throat to catch her attention.
"M'lady, they're waiting for you at the..." He inwardly groaned at the chosen name of the field. "...Fluffy Arena. The PFE is about ready to begin."
"Ooh, gotcha, I'll be right there, thanks!"
Adaria rushed over to her closet and began tossing garments over her shoulder in search of the previously selected outfit. Most of the clothing tried bravely to soar towards the safety of the nearby bed, but sadly half of them fell short of the mark. They crumpled dejectedly upon the floor.
"A-ha! There you are!"
The duchess grinned as she yanked a pair of dark green trousers out with one hand, while her other hand raised the complimenting light green blouse triumphantly into the air. A twirl of blue later, she was behind her screen and quickly changing. The baby blue dress she had worn to the pasta luncheon took a nap upon the top edge of the screen, as Adaria popped out in all her green finery.
After a quick check and primp in the mirror, the girl rushed out of the palace towards the carriage waiting to take her outside the city to the tournament grounds.
"Greetings and welcome to today's Pillow Fight Extravaganza," began the official in his most authoritative tone. The man did a splendid job of keeping a straight face as he proceeded to explain the rules. Many people in the audience snickered and elbowed each other with twinkling eyes. Something like this was unheard of!
"As has been announced yesterday, there will be two groups of contestants: those of the young adult bracket with ages under sixteen, and those of the main bracket with ages over sixteen. The rul--"
"Hey!" interrupted a young lady from the crowd, drawing a frown from the official. "What about those of us who are sixteen??"
He blinked, momentarily surprised, but then quickly consulted his notes.
"The main bracket will consist of people ages sixteen and over. Now, as--"
"Awww..."
"--I was saying, the rules are simple and straight-forward. This contest will adhere to one of the standard structures of a swordfighting tournament, with an open melee between all participants at the same time. There will be two rounds in each bracket, to determine two semi-finalists each. The third and final round will consist of the four semi-finalists.
"If you lose contact with your pillow, you are disqualified. If your pillow breaks, you are disqualified. If you are knocked down, you are disqualified. To advance, you must be one of the last two standing. In the final round, the four semi-finalists will be granted two pillows each before being disqualified. The other rules still apply, so try to stay on your feet!
"First up are the young adults. All contestants please enter the Fluffy Arena at this time with your chosen pillows. All last-minute participants, please make your way now to the surplus pillow depot, where you will be armed."
A horde of kids squealed in delight and rushed into the grassy, sectioned-off square of field. Proud parents cheered them on and waved colorful flags, while Adaria clapped her hands from her spot next to Arya. A second, smaller group of children yelled as they charged the indicated booth, with the extra pillows for those who did not come prepared. Even before the first kid got his 'weapon' from the surplus depot, the group already inside in the arena had begun whacking each other.
"Hey!" cried out the PFE official in obvious consternation. "I did not say you could begin yet! Stop! Stop swinging, young adults!!"
His calls fell on deaf ears, as the laughing children ignored him, and feathery chaos ensued.
"Where are my referees?? This is madness!! Gahh, in all my years of officiating I have never seen such a disorganized event!" the tournament official complained, shaking an indignant fist towards the children at play.
According to the clear rules that he had just stated in front of the crowds, every single kid in the arena was already disqualified. Most had gone down laughing in less than a minute, some had swung too hard and lost their pillows on the first try, and a few had even wandered out of the arena!! Of course, with all the confusion and cheering, there was no easy way to determine who had actually been the last two standing. Those who fell did not stay down as was proper, those who lost hold of their weapons simply stole their neighbor's pillow, and those who exited the arena came back with two extra pillows from the surplus station!
There was also an extremely tall child, who looked nothing like a child. For one matter, he was nearly six feet tall, and for another matter, he had a full beard for heaven's sake! When he had entered, all the other kids singled him out immediately and launched a more or less concerted effort to take him down. The old 'kid' took a monstrously fluffy beating from all sides, but managed to hang on rather valiantly to his over-sized pillow. Though he used it as a shield with some proficiency, the numbers simply overwhelmed him in the end.
The official groaned and covered his eyes as the giant began to fall, feeling for sure in his gut that at least two kids would be crushed by him. He winced in advance, expecting to hear more than one bloodcurdling scream. Nothing of the sort happened; the laughter, giggling, and standard yelling continued unabated. Peeking between his fingers, he noted that hundreds of lazily drifting feathers actually made for a pleasantly soothing sight. It was almost as if it were raining tiny geese.
By now, the majority of the pillows had burst from the uncustomary beating, but luckily no one seemed to be injured. At least, one could assume as much since there were no cries of pain. Yet.
"Oww!! Waaahhh, waaaaah!!"
Alright, that was the last straw. It was time to stop this fiasco before someone got seriously hurt.
"STOP!!" screamed the distraught official as he hopped off his announcer's podium/stage/block of wood thing. He gestured emphatically at a group of nearby, amused trumpeters to sound some sort of signal that would return order to the scene. "That's ENOUGH!!"
The man jostled his way forwards through the crowd to make his way into the chaotic field. He held his arms up and tried more histrionics to hopefully calm the participants.
"It's over! The match is done! This is getting out of control. No, no, actually it already IS out of control!!"
Nearly a hundred pillows paused in mid-swing as the combatants finally heard the official's words. The hundredth pillow continued on its previous course to whack a surprised kid full in the face, who simply grunted softly. Half a hundred pairs of bright eyes swiveled to rest upon the man with his hands waving in the air. One of them belonged to the tall kid with the beard. Apparently he also had a uni-brow, though the official now realized the facial hair seemed rather fake-looking up close.
There was an ominous, drawn-out note of complete silence. Then, one of the kids farted. That innocent passing of wind sparked a chain reaction of laughter throughout all of the children, and soon tears were rolling down. Someone thought it was a good idea to shout, "Let's get 'im!!" while pointing at the stunned tournament official.
He didn't stand a chance.
Referees had been quickly appointed for the grown-ups bracket of the competition, following the tumultuous first half. This small group consisted of minor nobles who had been vaguely interested in joining, but also did not wish to make fools of themselves in front of their friends, families, and the respectable visitors. They would also enter the designated arena, but had a handful of flags available to immediately mark those who became disqualified. This system would hopefully have better luck in maintaining at least some semblance of order. Unfortunately, the tournament official from the last bracket was not present to officiate this bracket; apparently even pillows could leave painful bruises if enough of them hit you--but that did not explain how he got that mysterious black eye.
Since nobody could determine for sure who had 'won' the kids' bracket, Adaria had stood up and announced that all the children were winners. This statement was of course met with many cheers of approval from both children and parents alike in the crowd. Her ladies-in-waiting and other maids, however, had not been so happy to learn of this declaration; they were busy even now stitching Aenilian phoenixes on a large batch of new pillows, which would be the take-home trophies and prizes for all participants.
After an hour set aside for cleaning and refreshment had passed, it was time to begin the second half. Adaria hugged Arya tightly and bounced into the square field, weapon in hand. Her pillow was, of course, mostly green since that was her favorite color, and readily matched her green and darker green outfit; it sported a leafy background design with a golden-yellow fox curled up in the center. She grinned and waved a greeting to Rebbec, who was holding an... old and frayed-looking pillow. A moment later, Jan stumbled onto the field, looking quite inebriated. Must be those rainbow-colored brews he was mixing last night, Adaria thought to herself as she waved hi to him too, recalling his previous letter.
The girl hugged her soft pillow as she looked around, studying her dozen or so opponents. There seemed to be more local dames than knights present--probably because the majority of the men thought this inane game to be beneath their proper noble upbringing. A few of the ladies were wearing dresses, and Adaria had to bite back her snicker at noticing them, for she knew they were going to be the first ones going down. Dresses were too cumbersome in any fight, even one as innocent as this mock tourney.
The art of pillow fighting was actually not much different from a normal swordfighting melee, if 'normal' involved shield-bashing and no swords whatsoever. Everyone was fair game, and certainly even teaming up with another person was a valid strategy. Adaria winked at Rebbec and made her way over to stand next to her friendly acquaintance--she was more than an acquaintance, but perhaps less than a friend; they had already arranged beforehand to work together from the start to eliminate the competition. Since the last two people standing with their pillows advanced into the finals, they could both make it through if they just stuck together and coordinated their efforts.
The gathered combatants took some practice swings to get accustomed to their unorthodox weapons, while everyone waited for the hourglass to finish counting down the time. Once the last bit of sand had fallen, the second hour of respite would be past, and the first round would begin in earnest. Now was the last minute or two for any additional contestants to announce their interest and enter the grassy square.
