Arcaea/Dining Hall Late 08-09/Edara and Jenred's Royal Wedding/Setting Up Camp
Madelena swept through the crowds that were starting to gather at the tournament grounds. She found herself to be nervous. This was the first official engagement in her new role as Imperial Magistrate, and she could feel the eyes of the peasants and stall holders on her, as well as whispering behind raised hands.
"Well at least I am not the one having to stand up and be married she thought to herself" with some relief. As pleased as she was for Edara and Jenred, she did not envy them their spotlight. She would much rather sit by the river with Tenal.
On the subject of which, where the blazes was Tenal? He had promised to meet her at the grounds and that they would set up their tents next to each other. She had secured her own patch, and was trying to hold the one next to her for him. Others knights had come to inquire after it and she was starting to feel rude turning them away. She hoped he would show up soon. Not least of which she missed him.
To kill some time she went to the tavern and brought a round of drinks.
"Can't have them thinking the Imperial Magistrate can't afford it" she thought to herself as she handed over the money and smiled at the others in the room. She wondered where Jenred and Edara were. She had recognized her bureaucrat Arlian in the crowd with a lady with distinctly red hair. She had also seen Sir Euran and General Thalathafn. Where was her sister? She had better make it on time or there would be hell to pay!
Lady Madelena Rossini Imperial Magistrate of Arcaea, Countess of Orbeh
Tidey arrived at her second tournament. Rather different from the last - it seemed much larger, and there were arrangements made for some big event that seemed unrelated to swordfighting or jousting.
She was still a bit uncomfortable trying to socialise with people - having spent so long on her own in recent times - so kept out of the way, heading off instead to train by herself.
Lady Tidey Grindle (Noble)
Tharion guided his horse carefully through the mass of tents, entertainers and people that had already arrived for the tournament and wedding. He had only left Arcaea a week before but truth be told, he was glad to once again be free from his duties back home in Lasop.
Despite the sun being high in the sky, the weather was cool and Tharion cursed silently at the need to arrive in his tournament armour. It had been many months since he'd retired from active duty with the army and he had forgotten how uncomfortable, and cold, the metal could be.
He received much attention from onlookers, many who recognised the White Unicorn from war stories that circulated the realms, and many more were all too aware of the Frostnova name. He recognised a number of knights, mostly by reputation or from having payed attention to his studies of the various families. He quickly acertained that no one he knew personally had arrived as of yet. Not surprising given how close his own lands were to Arcaea in comparision to others.
As he approached the site where his men would pitch his tent, Tharion decided that he would grab something to eat and take in some of the entertainment before the crowds began to thicken.
Tharion Frostnova Duke of Lasop
Siobhan arrived at the tournament grounds with her girl-squire, a young woman she picked up in Tuhpos. The girl did not speak, but did all Siobhan ordered her to, good enough for her. If she wanted conversation, she could always speak with her scribe. ’So this is what it looks like… almost an afternoon tea-party… Hardly a gathering of warriors at first glance…’
She was greeted by an overly enthusiastic steward, who advised against her request for a tent close to the horses’ pen and the stables, especially for a Countess. One simple glance of her blue eyes made it clear to the man she was not used to having people disagree with her, nor did she care for any ‘advice’ another could give her. Besides, she wasn’t here to parade around in fine clothes, her uniforms were all she had worn for years now.
The tent was clean, new, and divided into a section where she could retire, and a front part where she could store her equipment and perhaps allow her servant to sleep. She hadn’t seen the inside of such a luxurious tent since Master Druid Hector sent her through her final evaluations before acceptance. ’Nice. Really nice. It wouldn’t get through a night of Itomazh summer rain, but still… comfy and cosy. Suppose I’ll have to drink with my little pinkie up around here.’
She unpacked her bag, made up her cot with a single bear skin and took a look outside. Lady Redemption II of Enlod was showing the trainer a thing or two with the sword. ’At least I’m not the only Arcachonian here. When these mainlanders become boring, I’ll at least have someone to talk to.’ She looked over to her squire. “Tuhpos! Put my shield and family colours in the stand outside, along with the Itomazh banner.” The girl nodded and went to do as her Lady ordered her to. ’Hmm. Well, I’m here, might as well make the best of it… Let’s hope the wedding’s good.’
Lady Siobhan O'Ways
Countess of Itomazh
Euran came tearing into the tourney on the back of an exhausted and skittish riding horse, almost ploughing through a nobleman's tent on his way, before practically falling from the saddle into the dirt. The baron had only a basic acquaintance with riding. Thanks to his weight it was a rare horse that was willing to carry him, and this one had apparently done its best to rid itself of its uncomfortable burden. Thoroughly shaken, Euran's feet finally plunged into the mud already churned up by previous arrivals. He turned, his face unreadable, to look at his mad mount.
"Hahaha!" he bellowed, slapping it firmly on the rump, and turned to watch his entourage that was struggling to reach him. The horse took the opportunity to bolt. When the servants had finally tramped their way through the mud to reach him, Euran directed them to set up his tent. As at all previous tournaments, the Yeti skin that gave him the title of 'Yetisbane' hung proudly over the entrance. Some might have thought that it was simply inviting thieves to steal it, but the baron figured that anyone carrying it around would have two major problems. The damned thing weighed down even Euran on occasion, so the thief would have to be huge. And there weren't exactly piles of Yeti skins lying around the place; it'd be so recognisable that you'd have to be insane to steal it. Since Euran hadn't met anyone else at the tournament so far who was both huge and insane, he felt pretty safe.
Well then, the Wedding was at last actually underway! It had taken a long, long time, but after two other tournaments, various important personages being absent, the phases of the moon and the alignments of the stars forcing it to be delayed, Edara and Jenred would finally be married! And they would not simply be a happy married couple; they would become the King and Queen of Arcaea. It was surely a momentous occasion.
Euran smacked his lips.
"What's this, I've been at the tournament for how long, and only a single round of drinks?"
Euran Yetisbane Kandurell Baron of Lantzas
The High Priest pushed his way through the crowds, eager to see the King. There was so much to discuss, so much to organise, so much... It was the King and Duchess' wedding, not something that he wanted to appear to interfere with, but it had to follow due holy and chivalrous proceedings! The nobles coming from far and wide had to appreciate King Jenred's majesty, the dukes and high ups could simply not be offended, and the Aenil... well, this event would bring the faithful together in one place. How could he not use the opportunity?
Where was the King? Did he have a tent on the tourney grounds or was he in the castle in Nocaneb? Such a great personage should be easy to find, but in these crowds...
Euran Yetisbane Kandurell Baron of Lantzas
Cypreana blushed and looked down.
“I tend not to sing in company much, but when I am alone in the forest I sing with the birds.”
Cypreana then went on to speak more of her childhood. She told of the three sisters and how they would spend their morning at lessons and then in the afternoons would be allowed to run almost wild in the woods that surrounded their estate in Orbeh. They would climb trees, build tree houses, and have mock battles with each other. At first Madelena would be the heroine, Willow the hero and Cypreana would be left with the roll of the villain. When young Arabella came along much later they would allow her to play different roles each time.
Their mother had died giving birth to Arabella when the triplets were only four years old. Their father had never remarried, but a nurse had taken care of them as if she were their own. Cypreana remembered very little about her mother, except that it was from her they had been given their raven black hair and lilac eyes.
“I remember her smile,” was all she could say with certainty. “Perhaps I can also remember her singing to us, but maybe I imagine that. There were times when I could not sleep at night, or had been awoken from a bad dream, and I would imagine my mother, sitting by my bed and singing me back to sleep as she held my hand. I still imagine her singing with me to this day…”
Aerywyn then inquired after Cypreana’s father.
“He is a goodly knight and a proud fighter in days gone by, but in recent years his sight has failed him, and you can probably imagine what that does to someone who would pride himself on his accuracy with the bow and arrow. He is the one who taught us archery. Now he is shaky on his feet and a little slower in his head. He keeps to his book room mostly, where a young boy reads to him and he proceeds to teach him everything he knows. He taught me everything I know.”
Cypreana smiled at Aerywyn as they continued to ride on towards the tournament grounds.
“Where will you set up camp?” she asked.
Lady Cypreana Rossini (Dame of Sasat)
Gosoi walked through the line of tents, looking for one in particular. He found it just as the Duchess and another woman entered. The tent was quite grand, and completely impractical.
Such is the benefits of being betrothed to a king, I suppose.
Walking up to the line of royal guardsmen, he presented the steward with a wrapped package. Inside was a delicate crystal crane, a bird more common in the south than the area around Nocaneb. Along with the trinket was a small glass bottle of Nihonshu, more commonly called sake, a wine brewed from rice harvested in Zamriel.
"I ask that you deliver this gift to the Duchess of Nocaneb. Tell her if she wishes to send a reply, I can be found in my tent. It is the only one at this event with black on gold."
Turning, he left as soon as he came.
Gosoi Nerukou Duke of Anacan
The past few days had been a genuine change of pace. Upon his arrival, Tenal had set up his tent next to Lady Madelena's, who seemed very relieved that he had finally come. She explained that she had turned away a dozen knights and lords from the open spot. Tenal was touched by her gesture...and her stubborness. That first night he paid her back in full, with a delicious dinner and a hired bard who sang all her favorite songs.
During the next several mornings, he left early for some training, eager to make a better showing here than the previous tournament. However, on this particular morning, he left a special basket behind at the front of Madelena's tent. It had arrived the previous night, from one of his servants in Orbeh. He had been expecting it for a while. Grinning, Tenal placed a small blanket over the basket, checking to make sure all was quiet inside. He left a letter on top of the blanket, then snuck away to practice.
Sir Tenal Quasath (Knight of Orbeh)
Sleepily, Aerywyn leant back in the saddle, riding far easier now that he had spent weeks riding about the length of the continent. The sun was sinking over the horizon to the east, over the forests covering Orbeh and surrounding Niel, and it painted the clouds and sky shades of red; velvet, fire, sand and more. Wind sprites danced about in his hair, blowing it this way and that in their mischeif, and for that he was thankful he had cut it earlier.
Red sky at night, shepherds delight.
The tourney grounds were close now, but most of the travellers had arrived hours before so that they might settle down and finish pegging their tents before nightfall, in time to drink the evening away. His gaze then turned from the road ahead to Cypreana, smiling lazily.
“I have sent my squire and scribe ahead to set up the pavillion, along with my armour and lance. The fortress is large enough that they should have been able to get the Chancellor a place within the walls”, he said with a note of sarcasm.
With that they rode talking lightly for a short while till they reached the gates, where the throng was not as bad it would normally have been were it the middle of the day. Aerywyn led their horses towards one of the few permanent stables in Nocaneb, since the lands surrounding the stronghold were not preferable to cavalry. He broke out into laughter, and ahead of them by the stable gate were a pair of boys; the older of 17 years, a young knight with a sword at his side, and the younger of 10 outfitted in the livery of Haerthorne’s squire.
They both turned, the elder with calm assurance and the youth with barely restrained excitement, his blue eyes sparkling with the eternal curiosity and anticipation of childhood. Aerywyn answered Cypreana’s unspoken question.
“Willam Speeri and Jack, both of my blood. Will! Take your brother and find Lady Madelena’s pavillion, and inform her grace that her dear sister has arrived.”
When they had left earshot, Aerywyn frowned and dismounted, leading their horses himself even though he should have let Jack do it. When the grey destrier had been tied up, he took Cypreana‘s hand and helped her off her horse as she leapt down. By the time he had the saddlebags in his arms, he noticed it was well into twilight outside.
“My father had an… odd sense of humour at times. Speeri means ‘son-of-spear…”, he said as he shook his head. “He’s a bright and honourable lad…”
Aerywyn sighed, watching the lantern sway gently upon the far end of the wall. Smoothly his demeanor changed again from the contemplative, and he beckoned Cypreana to lean close so that she may hear what he might say. Still holding the saddlebags, he shifted the weight and leant down towards her, the smell of sweat and dirt from the journey mingling with her sweet fragrance. His mouth opened as if to speak, then suddenly he kissed her. It was short but lingering, and with his cheeks were hot; flushed and feverish with emotions he had not felt since he was a youth. His face was still close enough to hers that he could feel her warmth, and he spoke quietly with lightness and laughter sincere in his words.
“You have a beautiful voice”.
Aerywyn Haerthorne Imperial Chancellor of Arcaea
