Arcaea/Dining Hall Late 08-09/A Most Unusual Tourney
"Tom!" she screamed. The acolyte came racing into the room, a brass candlestick at the ready to strike down the would-be assailant.
"Tom! A tournament!" she shouted again. "I've never been - Tom, what are you doing with that?" He sheepishly set the object down on a table.
"Priests don't joust, M'Lady," he said.
"What?"
"Priests don't joust. You can't go."
She stood for a moment in shocked silence.
"Doesn't seem fair," she mumbled under her breath. "Don't see the reason for it..."
-
Calindra Namtrah (Priestess of Magna Aenilia Ecclesia)
"I don't think you're supposed to do this, M'lady," Tom said, handing her the stirrups.
"Oh, Tom, you worry too much about the little things," she answered. "No one even needs to know. I've written a letter to Father Dren telling him I'll be preaching in Sasat for a week or so. No one ever goes to that backwater - they'll never know I'm not there."
Tom shook his head doubtfully, but said nothing.
Calindra Namtrah (Priestess of Magna Aenilia Ecclesia)
Night had begun to shroud the tourney grounds in gloom by the time the Baron Lantzas at last arrived and pitched his tent. It was a fairly impressive affair; tall and sturdy, giving the distinct impression that it could survive a gale. Although it was made from plain leather, with no colours to enliven the bland tan hides, a huge white fur hung boldly above the entrance. Euran Yetisbane did not bother with heralds. He did not care much for the opinions of soft southern lords. Those who wished to dispute the existence of Yetis, however, or that he had killed one of the fearsome creatures, had only to look upwards.
Accompanying the Arcaean Lord were two ordinary looking women and an ordinary looking man. They had ordinary faces and easy smiles. They carried ordinary looking knives, wore ordinary looking clothes, and looked like the sort of person you would like to share a drink with in a pub. There was something about the way they moved that suggested they were used to riding long distances, but other than that they were men who you forgot easily; people who simply by their appearance and apparel were automatically consigned to being part of the crowd. The fourth member of Euran's retinue was a far more memorable figure. Clearly not long past childhood, he was noticeably shorter than most, with a bow legged horseman's walk and a tanned face that showed he had spent by far the greater part of his life out under the burning sun. He wore strangely grubby clothing, had an aggressive look, and seemed entirely out of place amongst the bustling crowds of a tournament.
"Come along boy! Leave these others to set up our camp. Lords and squires have better business to be about than that." Next to the Baron Lantzas, the squire seemed almost uninteresting. Euran stood head and shoulders above most men; even if he had not been monstrously tall, his scarred features and mismatched eyes would have been enough to instantly pick him out of a group. Normally wearing the Yeti skin that now hung proudly above his tent, he seemed ill at ease in a dark green noble's tunic. Nevertheless, he had been assured by Master Ethelred - his aged healer, advisor and record keeper, who had seen enough tournaments in his time - that this was the sort of thing that you had to wear.
Euran and his squire, who the constant tirade of insults, admonishments and instructions would reveal to be named Edluc, headed directly for the tournament scribes. After enrolling for the lists, they made for an armourer who had been recommended to Euran by the scribe. On the way Euran almost knocked over a man carrying some freshly painted black armour, but he thought little of it.
Euran Yetisbane Kandurell Baron of Lantzas
Armando, usually the formal and serious military man, had had some time to acclimatise to the people of Greater Aenilla, but he was still not really at home here. He had contributed to the tournament fundings mainly because it seemed an interesting oppertunity to test out his combat prowess (something he wasn't too secure in) and at the same time learn more about his fellow nobles. There were also several foreigners on the tournament fields, none of whom he really recognised. There was a man from Ethiala who claimed to be befriended to the duke of Topenah, a man Armando had personally seen throwing off the rags off the adventurer and becoming a full fledged noble, but it must have been one of the newer faces in the Ethialan military.
The relatively young noble sighed as he walked over the tournament grounds. He was on his way to the training area, to perhaps improve his jousting a bit before he went back to his encampment to write in his journal. He had not really payed attention to much of the surroundings untill a prancing horse forced him to look up. It was at this point he saw the familiar banners. Banners of a man who had been in Ethiala, in Kamador, and had betrayed both. True enough, not far from the tent being erected, he spotted the man. He forced himself to calmness. Afterall, had he himself not been branded a traitor?
Calmly stepping towards the man who could not have had a more different attitude than Armando himself, he nodded in greeting and eyed the following of the man warily. "Sir Euran Yetisbane!" He exclaimed, his voice forced to be jovial, though straining. "It's been a long time since we've spoken each other. Tell me, how fares Lantzas? have the rebels finally ceased their warmongering?" In secret, he hoped he would meet the man in the tournament, to settle old scores with sword and lance. But for now, he would stay friendly.
Armando Moraden (Knight of Nahad)
"Ah, Sir Armando!" called out Euran. He gave the 'sir' the barest hint of a stress; the man had failed to address him as a lord. In all fairness, a smidgen of antagonism was deserved; all that Armando knew of him was that he had joined Kamador, used family connections to secure the barony of Lantzas and promptly seceded. The man obviously didn't have the guts for open hostility, however. These southern nobles were all the same. As much as it aggravated him, Euran would have to attempt to beat the man at his own game.
"Go and speak with the armourer. I have some business to attend to here." muttered Euran to his squire, who promptly ran off.
Attempting a smile, which thanks to the scarring across his face was perhaps not all that welcoming, Euran strode towards Armando. "Lantzas prospers, fortunately. I discovered that the source of the difficulties was in fact a clan of horsemen, raiding the traders. I made the chief's son my squire, and they now fight in Arcaea's armies. It is truly heartwarming to know that with the right leverage any man can be brought to your side, don't you think?"
Sizing up the once lord of Larmebsi, Euran decided that the man's fortunes must have fallen considerably. "I hope you fare well?"
Euran Yetisbane Kandurell Baron of Lantzas
Disciple Luyten has demoted you to the rank of Deacon in the order "Magna Aenilia Ecclesia". There is no monthly grant or fee for this rank.
"Dammit, Tom!" Calindra shouted, "didn't you send that note to Father Dren?"
Tom looked up, red-faced. "Uhm...well, I..."
"Why not?" she demanded.
"It seemed that telling a High Priest of the order that you were preaching in Sasat, and if anyone heard rumors of you being at the tournament, that that was just your evil twin, Calindar, seemed somehow...wrong..."
She walked over to where he was polishing the helmet and stood directly in front of him, scowling. Leaning over, she whispered into his ear.
"The same might be said about what a certain acolyte has been doing with his Priestess. Now write the note!"
-
Calindra Namtrah (Dame of Sasat)
"Oh, crap!"
Tom looked up sharply, shocked by the vulgarity.
"That Baron Urine fellow is coming to the tournament! I'm going to need a better disguise." She stared into space for a moment, racking her brains.
"I've got it!" she exclaimed after a few moments. "Tom, take the armor down to the sign painter's."
"The sign painter's?"
"Yes. Have him paint it all black. Deep, dark black!" She smiled broadly. "Then go to the tourney grounds and sign me up as The Black Knight."
Tom shook his head, but collected the armor. -
Calindra Namtrah (Dame of Sasat)
"It says what?!!" the voice boomed from behind the thickly plated face armour.
"It says," the clerk sitting at the desk facing the knight repeated for the third time, "that there already is a Black Knight registered". He was quite annoyed at being made to repeat himself, and he showed it by squinting caustically at the fully-suited dark frame looming over his desk.
The silence that followed in the hot and humid room was punctuated only by Salerim's heavy breathing. He looked down at his resplendent black armor. He looked at its scintillating black polished surfaces. He looked at its lovingly intricate black filigree adornments and the skillfully turned black gauntlets. His breathing got heavier.
"Can, well... can you take him off the list!?" he asked, desperation creeping into the edges of his voice. "Um, no, I'm afraid that's not possible... The lists are never changed. However... we can put you down as 'The Dark Knight' if you wish?" the clerk offered helpfully, and looked up from his parchment. "...The Dark Knight?! What am I, like a lighter shade of Black?! 'Oh look, there goes the Rather-Not-So-Bright Knight, he's so scary!'. What is that... Dark as in Dim? 'The Dim Knight' - is that what you're offering?!"
Salerim's eyes were bulging out of their sockets, but the clerk could only see the face-mask shaking up and down. He coughed politely and continued non-plussed:
"No Sir, of course not. It was merely a suggestion - 'The Dark Knight' is usually a favourite with the participants. Would Sir have an other idea?"
A long pause followed. It was slowly becoming clear to Salerim that there was only one solution. He would have to wear his old suit of armor, and leave the brand-new one that he prepared with such hardship till the next tournament. He made sure to remember to find out exactly who this other Black knight was, when at the tournament.
"Put me down as 'The Ryder Knight'."
Salerim Mourmain Viscount of Ornaz
"The Black Knight," the training grounds steward shouted, looking around at the group of waiting nobles. One stepped forward silently.
"Uhm...you are the Black Knight?" he asked, a strange look on his face. The armored figure nodded.
"I..I see. That's fine, I guess," he said. "It's just that you're...not what I expected." After a pause, he added, "You're green."
"Olive green, actually," said Tom, stepping forward helpfully. "It's a new shade base on the -" A stirrup to the ankle cut him off abruptly.
"I can't believe you screwed this up," Calindra hissed in his ear as she entered the training grounds.
-
Calindra Namtrah (Dame of Sasat)
"But it was black," Tom explained, as he busied himself in preparing her bath. "That awful noble pushed me down while I was carrying it, and the wet paint got covered in sand. What was I supposed to do?"
"Awful noble? What awful noble?" Calindra asked.
"I don't know his name. His tent is right over there," he answered, pointing to the banner of Euran Yetisbane Kandurell, Baron of Lantzas.
Calindra Namtrah (Dame of Sasat)
"Sir, Sir!! The temple in Ozrat has been sacked and shut down" Cried the messenger as he ran towards Kazuma's tent.
Kazuma lifted his neck toward the messenger and nodded. He stroked his goatee that now had some grey hairs amongst the many black. His eyebrows did not flinch and his look was thoughtful
"The question now, is not what we can do to heal the damage done, but to await the reception the Aenil will put forth."
Kazuma lifted his cup, full to the brim with whiskey and sipped. The tent's shade engulfed the floor as the cool breeze swept through.
"I wonder when Tharion will get his aging hind to this blasted tournament."
Kazuma Shenron Earl of Larmebsi
Is there any beautiful lady that wishes free swordfighting classes from the great one, bahaha.
"Well," Calindra thought, "I am beautiful, and I could use free lessons. But if I have to listen to another one of his bahaha's I'm going to stab him in his sleep."
Calindra Namtrah (Dame of Sasat)
Bahaha, look at those new contestants, its starting to make sense now. Most of them are weaklings, yet I can already notice some that I shouldnt under estimate, bahaha.
Theres a lot of beautiful ladies too, will someone finally step up to me... Maybe, I should say it out loud again.
Any beautiful ladies, please come forward for free swordfighting classes from me, none other than Darimad Hyrhion, the best swordsman of Ethiala and the whole continent, bahaha.
Darimad Hyrhion (Knight of Ahael)
Hiding his disgust for this upstart, and attempting to restrain himself from stabbing him every time he uttered a "bahaha", Senoske left the general vicinity, and watched the newcomers arrive. One in particular caught his eye, and Senoske stepped out to greet him.
"Its been awhile Ziode."
Senoske Himoura (Knight of Hatdhes)
Ziode smiled.
"It as been a while, Senoske. Even longer since I have attended a Far East tournament. Before my time as ruler I think. I kind of missed it. I'm glad to see things aren't what they used to be. Maybe they are though, and it has yet to start. The fighting over who did what when we're here for fun."
He glanced around, and gestured to the woman behind him.
"I hope you remember Ancelin. She was with me when we met in Masahakon, when I was last in Nighthelm."
Ziode Calanar (Knight of Anacan)
"I hardly had a proper introduction, but yes, I do recall."
Senoske said with a grin.
"So far it hasn't been the same as they used to be... Just some crackpot writing bahaha in all his letters. I've managed a good deal of self control by not throttling to the point of death for it yet."
Senoske glances around.
"But the time may come for it."
Senoske Himoura (Knight of Hatdhes)
Sir Hobbs wandered in amongst the brightly clad functionaries, squires and courtiers which flitted from pavillion to pavillion on the plains outside of the mighty city of Idapur. This was what he had dreamed of for so long. It had been too many years since he had been excluded from the Noble games of the joust and particularly the sword, and now he attended his first one as a Knight of Zarimel, a Knight of the lands of his birth.
But he could not help but think what an absurd lot they all were, as they talked and dined and trained, concealing smirk of suppressed mirth he continued to meander his way about the tournament grounds. The heart of the adventurous wanderer still lived within him it seemed, and he had already explored the city itself the day before, preferring the anonymity that came with his ability to blend in, to the bright raiment of the nobility on the plain.
He knew no one, and there were none in this place who knew him either, and feeling somewhat out of place he finally reached the training grounds where many had been spending their time honing their skills for the contest to come. Deciding that it was a way to pass the time, and already dressed in his light leather armour and yellow and black surcoat, he entered the training arena to test his skills.
It was with a blade in his hands that he felt at once a calm about him as he manuevered it with great skill and ease, perhaps it shall by renown as a swordsman that I shall be noticed? Sir Hobbs thought to himself, but quickly dismissed the idea out of hand; there are plenty of skilful swordsmen at this tourney, why would they notice me he thought, immersing himself in the thrill of combat and the steely glint of his weapon.
Sir Hobbs Dell (Knight of Zarimel)
Ancelin gazed shyly around Ziode at the man who had hailed him. She remembered him from Masahakon, but he and Ziode had exchanged quiet words for only a minute then, and she still wasn't sure if Senoske was friend or foe or...
She gave a polite curtsey as Ziode introduced her, wondering silently what it would be to face this man in the tournament ring.
Ancelin Merry (Dame of Anacan)
Armando almost smiled genuinely as the noble in front of him looked him over and asked him how he fared. No doubt the man had looked at his travel clothes and decided that losing the lordship of Larmebsi had seen Armando a poorer man. "Indeed, I fare well." He answered. "The region of Larmebsi is a poor one, and my knighthood of Nahad earns me more than I earned as a lord due to the generousness of my lord. Indeed, I had enough money to contribute twohundred and fifty gold coins to this wonderfull event, and still have something left for darker days." He did scowl a little at his own loss of region. Despite the monetary gain in the switch of positions, he had loved the people of Larmebsi, even though they were simple people, and not much knights were willing to serve for the Larmebsian region.
"I Guess I could count myself lucky. Larmebsi has found itself without knights these days, and Larmebsi's new lord has to do a lot of work on his own." He frowned, and then seemed to remember the conversation at hand. "In any case, it's wonderfull that Lantzas has finally seen the light. You say the rebels are now serving Arcaea's armies now? That's...impressive." He smiled as he said it, however he didn't like the man, at least on the field of politics and diplomacy he had the upper hand, or so he thought. And while he smiled he could not help thinking. "it's not very unlike Arcaea to welcome treacherous scum into their armies, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised at this turn of events. Then again, seeing the state of Ethialan representatives on this tournament hasn't made much of a good impression either."
Out loud he spoke: "Tell me, sir Euran, " He stressed the word, but not enough to make it a sneer, just enough to emphasise his true thoughts on the matter. "What do you think of the Ethialan noble, that seems to think he has got the tournament in the bag? You have heard him brag, haven't you?"
Armando Moraden (Knight of Nahad)
"You earn more than you did as a lord? Truly? Well, I am impressed. It seems that the lord you now serve has a good idea of how to run a region." Euran managed to prevent himself from grinning, but could not stifle a smile. He vaguely remembered the man's disinterested attitude in Kamador; clearly he had been an inefficient lord, which made his arrogance now all the more amusing. Almost unconsciously, Euran's left hand strayed to the bulging pouch of money at his waist. "Commendable that you should contribute to the prize of such a grand tournament. Then again, I suppose that there is little else for the common knight to spend his gold on." The baron didn't feel the need to put any emphasis on 'common knight' - it was a dismissive enough term by itself.
"Lantzas is indeed fortunate to be served by skilled horsemen. It might be said that we understand that having an enemy give his service to you is far more rewarding than simply having to lower yourself to stealing it. Such skill is, unfortunately, apparently rare these days. It emphasises your superiority over the conquered - and the best part is that they do not even understand their position." The inference was aimed towards Greater Aenilia's seizing of Lasop; and of course the fact that Armando had surrendered himself to his enemy.
Rolling his eyes somewhat at Armando's emphasis, Euran replied, "Well, Sir Armando, as a Baron I do of course understand that a part does not always represent the whole." He bridled somewhat at Armando's - perhaps unintended - suggestion that he could not hear. "Lacking half an ear does not make me completely deaf! The man is obviously a foolish braggart. He will meet his match in the tournament, I am sure."
Seeing one of his servants passing by, the baron of Lantzas bellowed, "Wine!" The man hurried off to fetch his master's demand. "So tell me, how does serving Greater Aenilia suit you? Have you met the prophet-king yet?"
Euran Yetisbane Kandurell Baron of Lantzas
Scion approached Senoske, Ziode, and Ancelin.
"Been a while. Good to see you are all well."
He noticed Ancelin was close behind Ziode and laughed.
"You still have a tail, I see. You've always attracted interesting people."
Scion Calanar (Knight of Masahakon)
Ziode laughed, and put his arm around Ancelin. Then he drew her forward.
"Relax. Senoske is an old friend, and we seem to have met Scion on a better day than last time."
Ziode looked at Scion who had his sword in hand now. Ziode laughed.
"A sparring match? You must be joking. You know how these always turn out."
Scion grinned and laughed.
"Afraid to get knocked down? Let's see what you've learned when you were away."
Scion looked at Senoske and then to Ancelin.
"Hope neither of you mind if I steal my brother for a few minutes."
Ziode Calanar (Knight of Anacan)
"I've had about all I can stand from this pagan," Calindra swore, and marched out into the central compound. The crowd bustled around her, some stopping to point, but most busy with their chores.
In front of the elegant tents with the Baron of Lantzas' crest stood two men. A more observant person might have detected the hostility between them, and chosen another time. Calindra was not such a person.
"Which one of you is the Baron of Lantzas," she demanded, standing before them still dressed in her olive green armor.
-
Calindra Namtrah (Dame of Sasat)
Somewhat surprised at being addressed in such a direct and forceful manner, Euran turned and said, "I am Baron Euran of Lantzas. Do I know you, lady...?" He seemed to recognise her face, but could not put a name to it.
Euran Yetisbane Kandurell Baron of Lantzas
Louis walks around the tournament grounds, completely amazed. Knights from across the continent have brought their large entourages with them, vast amounts of wealth has been spent on temporary lodging, and despite the rather ad-hoc housing, the nobles present themselves as if they are in the finest palace of the land.
Not Louis. He brought his daughter, the apple of his eye, to see the spectacle that brings his small family great pride - her father's first tournament! She couldn't be more proud of her dad today, as he will compete one-on-one with the greatest of the land.
Coming from humble beginnings, the family takes in as much of the excitement as possible. There had been tournaments before, but they've never been as close to the grounds as they are today.
"I need some time to practice, darling," Louis tells his daughter, as he nervously parries against a makeshift wooden opponent. He really wants her to be proud of him, but he feels this may be more than he bargained for.
Louis Lious (Knight of Upasael)
Ziode and Scion make their way to the arena. Ziode hoped Ancelin wouldn't worry as the two brothers faced each other for practice. As usual between them, it was a rather short fight.
Ziode started with some throwing knives that Scion had seen coming, and had moved. Scion rushed in, and Ziode barely had time to ready his own weapons as he was pushed back by Scion's sword. A quick parry and Ziode had room. He spun slightly, and removed his cloak letting it move towards his opponent covering the throwing knives that immediately followed. Having seen this before, Scion pulled his shield from his back and crouched down to block the knives while others went over him. Afterwards he bent down and picked up his brother's cloak.
"Let's finish this later. I'm sure others want to use the arena."
Ziode Calanar (Knight of Anacan)
Attempting to better fit in, Louis heads to the tavern, a seemingly popular place where many nobles have congregated. He attempts to get the attention of several different people, but nobody seems to pay him any attention. After seeing several other nobles showing their extravagance by purchasing everyone drinks, Louis decides to do the same. He approaches the main counter...
"May I please buy drinks for everyone here at the tavern?" Louis asks.
"Eh? What's that? You'll have to speak up there, little fella," the barkeep replies.
Feeling a bit disrespected, Louis puffs up his chest and bellows "Bring drinks for every man, woman, and child in this pub! And get crackin'!"
The barkeep turns around and sighs, muttering something under his breath about how anyone with a few coins thinks they're a noble these days...
Louis Lious (Knight of Upasael)
Calindra pulled up short. He was not what she had expected at all. Tall, rugged, burly - rather good looking, actually. Shame about the ear. Didn't they say he came from off island, some sort of Northman culture. That would explain a few things.
"Oh," she managed to stammer. "You're Baron Urine?"
She looked up at his eyes - lovely eyes. Enchanting eyes.
"I'm Cally - er, Calin...Calindar. Calindra's sister. You know - the priestess that hangs around Lantzas sometimes. She asked me to call on you."
Calindra Namtrah (Dame of Sasat)
Mismatched eyes, one brown, one green, stared down at Calindra. The baron was tall and impressively built, and perhaps in the right light could pass for rugged, what with traces of old battle scars being visible, but he was seldom thought of as handsome. The aggressive expression and commanding attitude tended to layer an impenetrable exterior around him.
An odd expression passed across his face as his name was horribly mispronounced. It was pained, but could definitely see the humour of the situation. "Euran - YURANN - not Urine." He could not hold back a chuckle. "It's been a long, long time since anyone called me that."
Then a frown creased his brow. "Calindar, really? I believe I might have passed your sister on the road here. Can't be certain of course - never did pay much attention to foaming preachers. They get on my nerves. I haven't been able to hold a straight conversation with my cousin since he became a priest of MAE; always tries to convert me, whenever we meet. Serves us both well that he keeps well north of Lantzas."
He coughed and looked down, not exactly embarrassed so much as suddenly aware that he might not be talking to the right audience for rants about priests. "So, what does your sister have to say to me?"
Euran Yetisbane Kandurell Baron of Lantzas
Switching her attention from one eye to the other, and back again, she realized what it was about his eyes that captured her so. Brown, green. Brown, green. They weren't enchanting - they were hypnotizing her!
Shaking herself from his gaze, she looked him over again. Handsome? Had she really thought that? It seemed like whoever had mangled his ear had done him a favor. Still, there was a sort of charm about him, like what you might find in a rain-drenched mongrel.
"Oh, nothing in particular," she answered. "She's a bit miffed about your never showing up for her sermons, and leading the peasants astray with your pagan beliefs - the usual whiny priest stuff."
"Actually, I hoping you might buy a lady a drink," she added coquettishly. "Let me just slip out of this armor and have a bath. You can stop by my pavilion in an hour?"
With a loud crashing and banging, she turned and walked stiffly back to her tent.
-
Calindra Namtrah (Dame of Sasat)
"Lady Calindra!" Tom called excitedly.
"Calin-dar! You need to remember -"
"Earl Kazuma just bought nine rounds of drinks!" Tom continued.
Cally sat up straight in the bath, heedless of Tom's staring eyes. Nine rounds? What a lavish and hospitable man! And wealthy, undoubtedly.
She scratched her chin, wondering if it was still possible to break her date with that Urine fellow.
-
Calindra Namtrah (Dame of Sasat)
Aimii happened to be sitting in the tavern, when a pint of ale was placed in front of her. As he sat it down, the waiter informed her, "Courtesy of Earl Kazuma of Larmebsi."
Looking up to the waiter, Aimii thanked him and began to drink it. No sooner than she finished, another glass was placed in front of her, "Courtesy of Earl Kazuma of Larmebsi," the waiter had said once again. Having enjoyed the first pint, she thanked him once again and drank this one down quickly as well.
As she sat the empty glass down, she saw the waiter returning with yet another. Looking up, she asked "let me guess, courtesy of Earl Kazuma Larmebsi?"
The waiter nodded in confirmation, and walked back to where he came from after giving her the drink. Not wanting to seem ungrateful, Aimii drank the pint.
The cycle continued, until Aimii finished the ninth, and final, drink. Wanting to escape before she'd be unable to walk, she slowly rose from her seat, or at least attempted to, instead getting her foot caught in it, tripping over it and bringing it down on top of her. After a brief struggle to get herself free, she made her way over to the door. Her vision blurred, she ran face first into the doorframe, causing her forehead to split open and begin bleeding. Too intoxicated to fully realise what had happened, she stood up once more and exited the tavern.
Lady Aimii Anthas (Dame of Remton)
"So, remember - if Urine shows up, tell him I need some more time to get ready, and ask him in for a glass of wine. Or two or three," Cally explained.
Tom looked doubtful, but nodded his understanding. Cally slipped out and raced down to the nearby tavern that had become the nobles' watering hole.
"No point in missing out on a good thing," she reasoned. "But no point wasting a bird in hand, either. Better have a quick look at this Kazuma fellow."
She could hear loud drunken revelry long before she reached the pub itself. Nine rounds on top of what they had already been drinking must certainly have caused a bit of an uproar. Reaching for the door, she was nearly knocked over by a woman with a bleeding forehead who staggered out.
"Hey, are you al- aren't you Lady Aimii?" The woman was clearly in very bad condition. Cally hesitated, listening to the laughter inside, then took her by the arm.
"I think you'd better come with me," she said, and started leading her back to Cally's tent.
-
Calindra Namtrah (Dame of Sasat)
Aimii looked up to the blur that was speaking to her. She nodded, confirming that she was indeed Aimii, and stated "I got a headache."
As Calindra took her arm and led her away, Aimii bent over, "I don't feel too-" and threw up right in front of both of their feet, "- good"
Doing her best to stand up straight once more, she sighed "I'm... I'm... sorry..."
Lady Aimii Anthas (Dame of Remton)
Cally crinkled her nose at the mess and sighed.
"Perhaps your tent would be better," she said. "Although, a bath is what I think you need most, and I imagine you don't have a bathtub?"
Sighing again, she grabbed her by the arm and led her back to her tent.
Calindra Namtrah (Dame of Sasat)
Armando frowned slightly as the conversation was interrupted by Calindra. Euran obviously underestimated the importance of knights to a region, and apparently did not know the difference between city and farmland and their respective wealth. He had been about to comment on that before they were, quite rudely, interrupted. He did have to hide a smirk as the word 'urine' fell in relation to the barons name, but he managed to do so without any problems, his face never that expressive to begin with.
Things quickly took a turn for the worst though, as Euran not only managed to convey himself as a friendly, if slightly unsophisticated fellow, but apparently earned her further attentions in the process, while the former lord of Larmebsi was all but ignored. He did not care about women as much as his honour, but it did bother him that he was witnessing a conversation, set aside like a mere commoner. The insult this conveyed to him made his cheeks burn, though he attempted to hide it with a furious glare.
As soon as the baron of Lantzas had finished the conversation, (Armando had managed to stay polite.) he adressed the Arcaean lord once more for a final word. "Well, I must be going I'm afraid." He said, still glaring. "I will undoubtedly meet you in the tournament, I wish you good luck!"
And with that, he walked off in the direction of the training fields, unceremoniously turning his back to his former comrade, seething inwardly over the humiliation.
Armando Moraden (Knight of Nahad)
Aimii shook her head, "No... I don't have a bathtub..." And went with her once again towards the tent.
Ast they neared the tent, Aimii looked back to her "Thank you, lady...?" realising she did not know the name of the woman who had aided her.
Lady Aimii Anthas (Dame of Remton)
"Cally," she answered. "Calindar Namtrah. You might know my sister? Perhaps attended of her sermons?"
The two women staggered into the tent. "Now, let's get those clothes off you and put you in for a nice soak. I fine there are few things that can't be solved with a good hot soaking in a bathtub."
She turned to where they had come in.
"Tom," she called. "Tom, come help me get Lady Aimii's clothes off."
-
Calindra Namtrah (Dame of Sasat)
Aimii shook her head, "No... Don't know her. No religion really appeal to me."
When Cally called for Tom, Aimii grabbed her tightly "Please... no men... not with me like this."
Lady Aimii Anthas (Dame of Remton)
"Oh, Tom's not really a man," Cally laughed. "He's more like a..." She looked at Aimii's nervous face. "Okay, no problem...Tom! Forget it! Stay out!"
"Right," she said, turning back to her impromptu ward. "Let's get you cleaned up, shall we?" She signaled Aimii to raise her arms up over her head and began to help her out of her clothes.
CENSURED ---------------------------
We would like to bring you a full description of how one pretty young woman clumsily undressed another pretty young woman and placed her, with splashing, giggles, and acres of smooth, young flesh, in a bathtub, while managing to splash so much water on herself in the process that she had no choice but to undress herself and join in the bath.
Unfortunately, there are children on this site, so you will just have to imagine that for yourselves.
We apologize.
"Well,"Cally said, sinking into the hot water up to her neck, "I didn't really need another bath, but it does feel nice."
-
Calindra Namtrah (Dame of Sasat)
After getting into the tub, Aimii finally allowed herself to relax somewhat. She knew she had drank too much, but she didn't want to seem ungrateful for the Earl's hospitality.
When Cally joined her, Aimii looked up to her, "So, Cally, what are your goals for the tournament? I am going to knock some men off their mounts."
Lady Aimii Anthas (Dame of Remton)
"So, Cally, what are your goals for the tournament? I am going to knock some men off their mounts."
"Really?" Cally asked, surprised. "Because I was planning to help a few of the richer ones onto their mounts, if you get what I mean?" She laughed and dunked herself under the water.
Calindra Namtrah (Dame of Sasat)
Aimii almost choked, not able to believe that Cally had just said that. when she laughed, Aimii laughed as well, "Yes, but first you would need to knock them off."
Lady Aimii Anthas (Dame of Remton)
"Ah, you're back!" Salerim said and turned to greet his squire, who was entering the tent. "So, did you find out? Who is this so-called 'Black Knight'?"
"Liege," the squire gasped, out of breath, "the situation is... a bit complicated. It wasn't easy to find out who they are. They keep those lists oh-so-secret, until the tournament day. But I did find out who the Black Knight is."
"Well done, man! Excellent work, ha ha!... Come. We'll go, and you can point him out to me right now."
Salerim picked up his sword and scabbard and attached them to his waist. He looked at the rusty old armour he was wearing, and then at the magnificent sheer-black one. It was hanging useless in the corner. He had decided to bring it along anyway, even though he could not wear it... His anger rushed back to him, remembering how the title of "Black Knight" was snatched just before he could register it. His teeth gritted, reminded of all the time and effort, not to speak of cost, spent in acquiring the very best of each part of the armour. The helm, the breastplate, the greaves and gauntlets. All made from the rarest utterly-black steel, a material that few even knew existed, let alone possess... He forced himself to stop thinking about it. He'd vowed that under no circumstances would he let his temper lead him to bloodshed. This time was going to be different, things will be settled peacefully. Man-to-man.
"Well, they'd better stand up to their title then, eh? We'll see if this Black Knight's worth their name!" he said and flipped the tent's cover aside. Salerim stepped into the light, his squire following. He scanned the camp tensely. The grounds were crowded today, with knights and aides walking to and fro everywhere. Loud noises all around, but especially from the tavern, where someone had apparently bought the whole bar in an insane gesture of generosity.
"So. Who is this Black Knight, then?" he asked the squire.
"Well, liege," the squire began, biting his lip. "They, erm, that's their tent, over there" he said pointing vaguely.
"Tha... where?"
"There," the squire pointed.
"That one?"
"No, no, the other one."
"The... What, not that one?! The one with the green armour in front?!..."
"Ermmm... yes..."
"The Black Knight's tent is the one with the green armour in front?!" -- Temper now, watch your temper Salerim thought, no need for a scandal now!
"Ermm, olive-green I am told. Not my favourite colour," the squire added and stopped. He didn't like the colour his master's face was taking either.
"So this Black Knight wears an olive-green armour... I, I guess that's... No, that's fine. I'm sure he's a worthy knight for the name even so?"
"Actually..." the squire answered feebly.
"What?" Salerim turned to him.
"He's not so much a knight, as such, sire... Rumour is he's a, erm, a priest, to be exact, sire."
Temper now, watch the temper. "Well... there's no reason a priest can not be a worthy fighter, no? Of course," he said, his voice now strangled, "there's really no limitation on what a man can achieve given the right conditions, eh?"
"Erm, well, actually speaking of which..."
"What!?" Salerim snapped. "What is it?!" -- Temperrrr!
"The Black Knight's not exactly a man, either, you see, sire. Not as such, no, sire. He's a... woman, to be exact. So to speak. But I hear she likes ladies!" the squire added cheerfully.
To his horror, Salerim's sword zinged out of its scabbard with a deadly gleam. The knight paused for a moment, one foot forward, his grip on the hilt trembling with tension. Just as suddenly, the sword slammed back in its scabbard.
"Oh, thank the gods, sire! For a moment there I was afraid you were going to..."
"The lance... Fetch me the lance!!"
Salerim Mourmain Viscount of Ornaz
Cally slumped onto her bed, exhausted. She had just got back Idapur when one of the laymen of the Remton temple spotted her and called her to give an impromptu sermon. Needless to say, it hadn't been very good, although she'd managed a few converts.
Was it worth it? She thought back to the night in the tent, a warm, soft, naked Lady Aimii huddled against her while a drunk, hard, half-naked Sir Aerwyn flopped head-first into the tub.
Yes, she smiled, definitely worth it.
Calindra Namtrah (Priestess of Magna Aenilia Ecclesia)
