Twix Family/Dyan/Tournament
At the tournament in Lin Helon...
The tournament grounds are all prepared and set up looking like a ghost town on the cliff overlooking the ocean. There is no activity yet it won't be long until they are filled with training, feasting and fighting.
After a while Bob notices a somebody coming up to the gates of Lin Helon, he then heads off to meet up with them.
"Welcome to the tournament Dyan. I'm glad you decided to come and celebrate with us. I will get some people to help you carry in your bags, why don't you make yourself comfortable as there is much fun ahead. If you have any questions feel free to ask. Thank you for coming, good luck on the field."
***
Leaving his men behind at his estate in Kannoktet, Omel and his scribe rode the short distance to Lin Helon, great city of the North. The journey was uneventful, and the pair was soon passing through the gates. A marked path led away from the city core and towards the cliffs overlooking the sea, where a small army of tents and buildings clustered around the fighting and jousting grounds.
As they approached the outlying structures, they were stopped by a page boy. "My liege, Bob, Duke of Lin Helon, bids you welcome, Omel of Kannoktet. Allow me to take your effects to your quarters."
Before Omel had a chance to thank him, a foreign noble he did not recognize ran by, yelling "Free drinks, compliments of Danira at the tavern!" Smiling, Omel handed his bags off to the page and set off to the bar.
Omel calls out, “Drinks all round, especially for the new arrivals - can't start too early with the festivities!”
***
An ale in each hand from generous competitors, Dyan makes a round of the bar to greet all the new faces. He eventually joins Omel and Tanko at their table by the bar, waving Premysl and Gitan over.
"There's certainly a good showing from Melhed here, tho I suppose that's due to the convenience of it all, eh guys? Monsters have been so quiet lately, it's like they've disappeared!"
Tanko nods. "I heard of a bit of action in Rengo yesterday, but that's the only report I've seen."
"Hmm." Dyan muses into the foam of his right-hand ale, closing his one eye. "Tis a strange world we live in..."
"Such is life," Frederick adds in, appearing at the table. "It's our lot to ponder and never quite to know. But enough of this, we're at a tournament, and not only that, but our realm is hosting! We should show our guests a good time!"
"Aye, you've got the right of it!" Dyan grins and holds his ale aloft. "To friendly competition!"
A chorus of ayes follows his, and the scarred warrior smiles around at the tavern patrons. With a wink, he tosses his curls back over his shoulder and downs his whole beer. A few of the others follow his example.
"Ahhhh." the little warrior smacks his lips happily. "Delicious! Hey, wouldya look at that, now we need another. Barkeep! One for all, on me!"
Widfara rode into Lin Helon heavily covered and cursing the cold this far north and headed straight for the nearest tavern and collapsed into a seat near the fire. Ordering himself a drink, he sat back and watched the small numbers of other nobles and wondered why such a small audience was present. Nonetheless, he wasn't about to complain since it probably meant less scathing comments when he came to see what he'd learned since the unfortunate incident in the south east.
"Give me another ale, and tell me what's going on here," Widfara ordered the barman gruffly. "It's been a long ride and I don't know how you live with these temperatures outside." Downing his third ale, Widfara wandered off into the area wehere some peasants were gathered to watch the show of skills by the other nobles. Putting on his own mediocre show, Widfara loped off to the training arena, muttering to quietly himself.
"Useless cavalry... how many times have I watched the charge and yet my swordarm is supposedly better? I will catch up, damn it..."
***
After a few hours training and his fingers freezing, Widfara headed back towards the tavern, hoping someone would break the silence soon.
"Widfie!!!!!!!!!!!!" called Danira, in her loud, high-pitched, annoying voice. "Widfywidfywidfywidfy!"
And thus the silence was soon broken, and (we hope) Widfara learned to be careful what he wished for. Widfara groaned as he heard the ever irepressible Danira shout throughout the tournament grounds "Widfy!".
"Damn it..." Widfara moaned, "and to think this was the person who supported me before."
Widfara pretended not to hear, drained his mug of ale quickly and hurried out of the tavern.
***
Dyan grinned as he watched the southern TLs hurry in from their training in the chilly evening air. His double-furred mitts from the tailor in Lin Helon had never let him down, and his sister Fey had recently learned how to make woolen bootliners and pullovers, and he had been the glad recipient of several of her experimental garments. He liked to be warm enough to stand outside the front door of the tavern with his ale, it stayed colder that way!
Just then Sir Widfara came bursting out of the swinging tavern doors, looking put-upon.
"Sir Widfara!" Dyan called out, using the unfamiliar noble's full title as he'd heard it announced at the training grounds. "Do stay a moment, won't you?"
The visiting noble turned in surprise to see the short, one-eyed Melhedian leaning beside the tavern door.
"I saw your practice earlier, you're quite the hand with both weapons!"
"Not bad I suppose, though I think they rated me a little short on the joust..." Widfara turned back to join Dyan on the boardwalk outside the tavern, leaning on a post. "I'm a cavalry leader, you know. Maybe more of a rough-and-ready style, I'm more effective than they'd lead one to believe."
"Haha, too true. I'm still waiting for the day when they bring archery skill to the competitions!" he pauses to flip his curly hair back and take a swig of delicious cold ale. "I've been leading my Hawkeyed archers for nigh on a year now, and my swordarm has suffered because of it. We're too efficient from afar, the monsters just never get close enough for it."
"That speaks well for your skill, Sir... what did you say your name was?"
"I didn't. It's Dyan. Spelled with a D though, not like John with a J, even though they sound so similar."
"That's an odd name. Are you from the Beluaterra originally?"
"Nope, my family hails from the Colonies, hence the strange names some of us are sporting. It was just too slow a life for me back there, lots of farming and not much else, even battles seemed to go in slow motion." He looks down with dismay into his nearly-empty mug. "Say, it's about time for another drink, and maybe some of that stew! Care to join me? Speaking of the tavern, what caused you to beat such a hasty path out of there anyway?"
***
Dyan, slightly drunker than before, watches dizzily as his longtime fighting companion Tanko wanders into the tavern, looking dusty and irritated.
"Eh theremate!" he calls out, vaguely aware that the sentence only sounded like it had two words in it. Tanko looks up and spots him, changing direction to join the short archer.
"Havin a good time I see?" Tanko pretends to dust off his front to hide his smirk at his sloshed companion.
"On'y if you are! You get mauled by them trainers this mornin? Sheesh they's tough this time round! I havnent been toa tourney inna long time! I don' remember em bein this tough, d'you mate?"
The smirk more obvious now, Tanko replies, "Ya, they're tough arright. Hey, 've you had breakfast yet? I'm famished."
The drunk, or maybe hungover Dyan looks confused for a minute, and stares blankly at the mug in his hand. "No.... no I don' think I have, matterofact."
"Aha, time for food it is! I wonder if they still do lamb on trenchers with gravy for breakfast, now THAT is a way to start the day..." Tanko grins as he notices Dyan go a little green about the gills with the mention of gravy. "You in?"
Dyan nods with sudden conviction, sitting up straighter. "I c'n handle it..."
Tanko smiles and hails the bartender, "Barkeep, two of the lamb on toast, if you please!" If nothing else, watching Dyan struggle to be strong and prove himself through a greasy breakfast with a hangover would be entertaining.
***
Omel ended up beating Dyan in both events, tho Dyan also beat Fey in the joust, a fact he was rather proud of, being that his sister was the leader of a very successful cavalry unit. "How many ales did you have, exactly?" he was heard to tease as the twins made their way out of the tournament grounds.
Contributions to roleplay from the players of Omel, Sir Widfara, Danira, and Bob!
