Lightstar Family/Xarnelf/Roleplay 88
Tournament Theatrics
The Duke of Idapur grinned widely and dashed off to Zonasa in the middle of the night, taking only a few scouts and a scribe with him. He told no one else of his departure, and it was not until the next morning that anyone realized he had gone! A note was found in his tent addressed to the High King:
Sorry Tharion, I could not resist joining the tournament! Rekhyt should be around shortly, so I hope Ipsosez shapes up soon!
Prior to approaching the tournament grounds, the duke had stopped in a secluded area with his scouts and scribe to don more inconspicuous clothing. After many layers of multi-coloured garbs, Xarnelf added a final, finishing touch in the form of a hooded-scarf-mask. Satisfied at his work, he turned to his idle attendants and asked them,
"So! How do I look?"
A few eyes bulged, while several coughs sounded, as if to hide their amusement at the bizarre sight.
"Well? Out with it now! The tournament awaits!"
Bravely, the youngest scout remarked, "M'lord, forgive me, but... you look like a woman."
The hero's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits for a brief moment, before he threw his head back and guffawed heartily, hands on his hips.
"Splendid! None of them will know of my identity until I sign up, then! I can see who is all here in the meantime..."
Xarnelf sighed, for it had been many years since his last tournament. He hoped his skills and theatrics had not diminished with the lack of using them. A new thought came to him then, as he eyed his companions, which brought a sparkle to his eye and a mischievous grin to his face.
"Your turn to dress up!"
His men groaned in reply.
"Ah, most excellent! You have returned with a copy of the tournament roster?" Xarnelf asked as he stared eagerly at the returning scout. Upon noticing the dark frown upon the man's face, the duke raised an eyebrow. "...or not?"
"I have it, m'lord..." he said dejectedly as he slowly reached out to hand over a rolled parchment.
Grinning widely again, Xarnelf nodded his thanks and began to peruse the names, titles, and realms participating in the upcoming event. Halfway down, he inquired almost absently, "How did you manage to acquire this finely detailed copy, anyway?"
"Uhhh... Well... I'd rather not say..."
"Come now, my good scout! Do tell!"
"Umm..."
Another scout--who had been there to witness the exchange--could not keep his silence any longer and burst out laughing from the side, which brought a curious stare from the duke and an icy glare from the first scout. In between his attempts to draw breath into his lungs protesting the laughing fit, he managed to blurt out, "H-he, hahahah! He had to s-hahaha, show... his... bahahaha... his sexy calf, HAHA, to the official!"
The poor, embarrassed scout hid his face within his hands and shook his head. He was never going to live this one down. Meanwhile, Xarnelf was trying to figure out why that would have persuaded the tournament official to pen a copy of the roster. He stared at the first scout, dressed in similar bright clothing, letting his gaze fall to the man's legs--hidden beneath the long folds of his dress--as he pondered the peculiar situation. Suddenly, it dawned on him, and he roared out his laughter until tears rolled down his face.
The official must have thought his scout was a woman!
