Rea Family/Darren/Golden Farrow Tournament March 1020
Golden Farrow
"This is the dumbest thing you two have ever come up with."
Darren picked at his bracer, the leather dark, and shiny brown from age. The rest of his leathers were scratched to hell, between practice bouts, and Darren's work in the wildlands, the old leather had saved him many, many more scars. One of the threads at the edge of his right bracer was coming loose. Not that it really mattered. There wasn't much he could do with his right hand anymore, so he'd taken to strapping a small iron edged wooden buckler over his wrist anyway. He'd been in the far north when he'd come across the shield type, while training some peasants in new, more efficient ways to protect themselves from the ever increasing monster and undead menace. The locals had taken a normal buckler, and worked iron around the outside edge of the shield, before sharpening the edge to a thick wedge. They had showed Darren the effectiveness of using that edge on many occasions, integrating the strange fighting style into the new things Darren was showing them nearly quicker then Darren could teach them. Part of his pay for sharing his knowledge was a pair of the local invention, one a circle, and the other a square. Both were small, and light; well suited for his usual fighting style. He had Anders carrying his steel, and the square buckler with them today, iron edge shining in the sunlight like the water in the harbor.
Darren's tutor, Anders, and the ever present Bernard walked on either side of him down the city street, Bernard watching the street and its other travelers carefully, and Anders smiling, nearly skipping ahead in his excitement.
Anders grinned, "You need the practice, and the trainers here are not paid with your gold."
"They're paid by the gold I pay the Navarch, so it may as well be." Darren nearly rolled his eyes while he spoke. Noramally, he wouldn't have been so snippy with the master swordsman, but, being in the open like this, in the middle of a city, regardless of whose banner it flew, was putting him on edge. Golden Farrow was a port city, a rat race of all sorts of people, from all sorts of places. The crush of its tens of thousands of residents, and thousands more of its visitors pressed in on Darren like a vice. He wished Solomon could've waited until spring to host a tournament, then he could have been miles away from here, instead of being dragged to the grounds by Anders and Bernard.
"Well, they are paid the same no matter who attends, so you may as well use them. I can only teach you so much." Darren sighed, and refrained from answering the still-grinning Anders, preferring to simply focus on keeping his head down, and his injured hand close to his chest.
They walked for a while in silence, dodging people and carts the entire length of the city. As the pennants of the Tourny grounds started to peak from behind buildings and stalls, Bernard spoke up.
"I see the Navarch's banner, what are you planning on doing about his offer for a meeting?"
Darren's eyes flicked to the gold and blue banners flickering between a pair of market stalls. His mouth ran dry, looking at them, and thinking about walking anywhere near them.
Quietly, Darren hissed at Bernard, keeping his voice low. While the nearby peasants were several feet away from the group, and busy with their business of fish and trinket sales, he still didn't want to cause any scenes.
"Yes Bernard, the known infiltrator, who very publicly was banished from the south for trying to stab his own king, should just walk right up the the ruler's tents, and ask for an audience. I'm sure Solomon's guards would be thrilled to see me." Darren scowled before continuing, at a normal volume. "He's probably not even here anyway. He's got plenty to be doing then standing around gossiping in a tourney he can't even participate in."
"Let's just just this sword practice over with, so we can go back to my quarters. Crowds are dangerous places, and that was before all the extra people showed up for the tourney."
