53 PA Grand Tournament - Free-For-All
The Free-For-All. This event will be utilizing the combat code, so please ensure you have a set of armor. Healers will be on hand to tend to any injuries. This will be open to fighters who use weapons and magic. Prepare for a spectacle!
Tarag the weathered snow wolf arrives, following Inweth.
Olore, an elegant barn owl arrives, following Seren.
Gureylain has joined the Tourney Field.
Seren has joined the Low Tiered Benches.
Inweth has joined the Low Tiered Benches.
Qahir has joined the Tourney Field.
A fight has broken out here. Use @spectate_combat to watch, or +fight to join.
Escanor wields Nightmare.
Forwen has joined the Tourney Field.
Yvette wields Odyssey - a Knightly Saber.
Crynshear a young tiger have been dismissed.
Aegon is down on the field, his shield propped up on something so he can use the inside of it as a makeshift mirror to finish applying his war paint. While he has his shielf painted white with the accent of a silver sword, representing the Keir family, his face is painted red with a gray X over the middle, representing the god Rithor. He's even got his tongue red too, though that's from whatever he's been drinking, rather than paint.
Forwen wields Bucket Slayer, a steel explorers war cleaver.
Zeal, Ice Elemental arrive, following Garett.
Zeal have been dismissed.
Ice Elemental have been dismissed.
Garett wields Lightwarden, a steel longsword.
Relios takes a moment to adjust the gauntlets along his arms before placing a hand on his hip as he looked out towards all the other contestants. The Dreamstone situated along the armoured circlet gleaming in the dusking sun, icy blue hues scrutinizing each and every individual as he casually makes his way towards Aegon to stand.
Taro, Noble Desert Owl have been dismissed.
Arriving onto the field is Escanor Serannar! Dressed in his pitch black armor, he draws his greatsword Nightmare,and steps onto the field of battle. His hair is allowed to fall down to his shoulders as he looks up into the sky. Its been...a long time since he'd be in something this intense. Lets see if he can keep up with everyone.
It's a pleasant Spring afternoon, with a light breeze rustling through the tournament grounds causing banners to ripple and wave. Tables with food and drink have been set up around the tiered benches. There is a murmur around the crowd as elves point to the fighters who have all begun setting up in the field at the center of the grounds. Several minutes pass before High Priest Rawlin Rylanth comes striding from the Grand Pavilion and to the center of the grounds.
He smiles and holds up a hand. "Elves of Aarandor, be welcome to this first event in the Tournament, the FREE-FOR-ALL. Gathered around me are elves from different kinships who seek to test themselves against others in a massive battle royale to see which one of them is the land elf standing." He turns to the fighters. "Healers have been set up in the pavilion there to help heal any wounds taken in this afternoon's festivities." He turns back to the crowd. "Now then, here is a lit of those who are participating!"
He pulls out a piece of paper and begins reading names:
253"Lord Heir Relios Aenorr, Squire of the Sacred Order of the Blood Templars."
"Marchioness Yvette Monstald, Grandmaster of the Blessed Order of Solaris."
"Lord Escanor Serannar."
"Lord Priest Leofric Tenlindil."
"Elder Zenandra Aynarr."
"Lord Priest Gureylain Tenlindil."
"Scholar Qahir Nerea."
The High Priest gesture to the fighters around him. "Please give a cheer for our brave fighters. And to those about to fight? THELOS SALUTES YOU." He then hurries off to the side to observe and help heal any who are injured.
A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Forwen before departing.
Zenandra stands off to the side of the tournament grounds, though the tall spear she is clutching with her elbow indicates her intent to participate. She has a small cut on the side of her palm, ready to offer the Blessing of Courage to any who want it. Her face already sports the two bloody marks under her eyes.
Another elf runs out and announces real quick, "And a late addition, Lord Heir Garett Ingith!"
Garett strides into the tournament grounds, looking around. It seems things have already started. He looks down to Zeal and gives the wolf a nod so that he bounds off. Then he lifts his helmet and fixes it in place. "Apologies for my tardiness."
Stepping into the combat fields, arrows quivered in his palm, Gureylain adjusts the helm on his head and adjusts the buckles on his armor, nodding to Yvette and the others as he adjusts his strings, lips moving silently.
Relios allows for a humoured chuckle to escape the throat of the Lord Heir, giving a nod of his head at Garett as he finally strides onto the fields. "I was starting to think you got scared." he lightly teased.
Inweth claps for the contenders from her place on the benches, calm eyes toward the battleground as she waits for the fight to begin.
As the field prepares to start the fight vines start winding their way up and around Leofric's arms. First they spread up from the arm cuff about his left wrist and then, more slowly, up from the right. He moves to Yvette's side and says a quiet "Back to back?" Before turning so, assuming she is going to protect his back just as he's intending to protect hers. Gureylain gets a nod and a smile too. Then he's studying the options arrayed before them. Trying to decide just who he wants to start against.
Theleria sits delicately in one of the lower benches, her little tree finding a place to rest while a pudgy raccoon dressed in finery pours her tea from a pot set on the bench next to her. She thanks Sugarloaf and then takes a sip, waiting for the action to begin.
The two Nerea arrive, hand in hand. Qahir, for his part, has an overlarge silver hammer over his shoulder, although the jingle jangle of the jewels around his neck betray his skill. He scans the area for a long moment, but goes cold when he sees Zenandra. He leans down to his wife, and whispers, "Can we, like, avoid her?"
The Marchioness of Monstald and Grandmaster of the Order of Solaris is not present to show off, though her armor //has// been tended to, set to gleam, the red set off against the black of her house colors. It makes the hues of her blade even more notable. The woman barely responds to her name as its called off on the lists. Those aren't for her: those are for the spectators. She's considering the field. The Knight looks to those of her Order who have stepped out to show themselves. Leofric, Gureylain, Escanor. There is a look of respect for them before a small, nod and her helm set into place. She checks her blade before setting into position and waiting the signal to begin.
Arminel arrives, a light cloak of dark-colored fabric covering his frame, with gray fur at the shoulders and neck. There's a small circlet of gold on his grow, but the finest element of the Serannar's adornment is the silk-clad Reid High Lord at his side, with whom he arrives arm-in-arm with. The Serannar guides the pair over towards the lower-set group of seats, taking a seat with a good view of the field before them. "Looks as though Faenor and Lorandi both brought a showing today..." he comments, looking back to Ellyn as he takes a seat.
Forwen steps onto the grounds beside Qahir, her small hand in his, the little elf looking even tinier beside her husband. In the other hand is a brutal looking short sword. A large helm that she plopped over the wild red curls, pausing to blink as it slides into her eyes. It a few moments to adjust the straps so she can see before she is ready and looks to Zenandra when Qahir whispers and nods.
Aegon is all business now, taking the field and lining up in a position to guard Relis from the others, as some intrakinship side-taking is to be expected. He bangs his shield and stops his leg until it's time to go at it as well, getting his blood up for the fight.
A soft glow begins to emit from a clear mala crystal mounted on a silverum braclet, light blue colours begin to fog into view along the Lord Heir's fingers before encompassing his entire body. Glitter and reflection from the tiny ice particles cast a dazzling spectacle, the edges of lips begin to curl into a tight smirk. "Let us not fail in providing a show, Sir Aegon."
Rawen is happily sitting next to Galeren, perhaps one could even call it light snuggling, as she was observing the tournament. Occasionally she leans over towards the Marquis to softly speak with him while they sit in the stands.
The Marquis Galeren is on the high benches beside Rawen, pumping a fist and laughing as he surveys the carnage about to ensue. When the lady elf leans in to speak softly to him he nods and grins, pointing down to the field while he mutters back to her.
There is a soft sweep of Ellyn's silks against Arminel's side as he escorts her though her gaze is upturned towards him as the pair enter. The coil of his arm over her own, her fingertips are curled over against his wrist. As they approached the lower-tiers the silver flecked green of her gaze slips to the combatants. She chuckles, "Indeed, you missed the fun of some cat-calling in between at the opening ceremony." She dips gracefully to settle upon the seat beneath him with a brush of hip.
Leofric has left the Tourney Field.
Zenandra checked stamina, willpower + fortitude at difficulty 4, rolling 38 higher.
Zenandra remains capable of fighting.
Arminel gives a smile of greeting over in Inweth's direction when the Faenor looks over to greet the arriving pair. "Ah, to think that I missed out on that.." he remarks to Ellyn, casting an amused smile sidelong to the elfess. He gives a sharp whistle of approval as the melee gets underway.
Garett finds himself facing down a few Lorandi. How curious is that? No matter though, the young Heir picks one of the elves attacking him and swings his sword towards Yvette. Strange though that Leforic jumps in the way. Several of their blows strike towards him, and he remains confident in his armor to fend off the strikes as they rain down on him. Once Leofric yields from the combat he turns his attention to Yvette, swinging his blade towards her
Qahir looks away from his aunt, and then around the battlefield. For now he drops that hammer of his with a loud thud. The blue crystal hanging from his neck starts to glow, and he immediately starts forming up a few dozen shards of ice. He launches those freezing flechetes, and they go wide and very much off his target. He curses under his breath, and starts up the same process again with something much larger.
Relios curls his fingers inward as his critical gaze scans the grounds as he silently awaits for the call to begin. As soon as the sound was made, he extends an icy hand in the direction of Yvette. Ice begins to swirl around his arm before a swarm of icicles launch in the direction of the Elven Archer and as soon as he had sent off that wave he turns on his heel to look for his next target. Catching sight of the strong arm of Zenandra, he stepped forward as the fog of ice pool to his feet and traveled along the ground towards Zenandra. Then suddenly a large spike erupted from the ground to pierce at the woman.
Once the melee is underway, Yvette tunes out the crowd. And much of the other combatants, too. Instead, she chooses her target and zeroes in. Unfortunately, in the thick of battle; it's hard to factor for every potential. While she's able to handle Aegon's attack, it's Relios' that surprises her. She's unable to parry the ice and he knows just where to hit her to get through the armor. The initial beating that she takes causes her to miss her own intended target and she gives her old friend a surprised look. However, a moment later, when the Ingith lord realizes just who he's engaged with: Yvette may not get through Garett's defenses, but the two are perhaps more evenly matched now that she's able to better focus.
The Battle begins! Escanor charges immediately towards Qahir, apparently deciding that he is a worthy opponent. He contends blades with him, and only manages a quick and small blow on Qahir, having dodged each and every one of his smells... But then he's suddenly attacked by Forwen! The teamwork of Forwen and Qahir cause only the smallest scratch on Escanor, causing him to leap backwards to get his distance. He exhales a slow breath before he stands up straight.
Ellyn lets her gaze slip from the soon to be havoc wrought upon the grounds. A smile flickers upon her lips in return to Inweth as she murmurs, "A pleasure to see you once more." It's as though she can feel the sidelong glance from Arminel as her gaze returns to the field. "Mmm, well it isn't my fault if some of your kin make themselves easy targets." A mischievous grin appears, a flicker of lash to the King, before soon enough it's back to the grand show!
Seren is sans children this day, likely home at the Estate as she makes her way over to settle in and watch the fight. The last blow landed by Relios causes her brow to lift and her gaze follows Zenandra, her lips parting as she slowly lowers to sit. Her hands smooth her dress into place as she glances to the others seated in the lower tier, offering a nod before her focus is once more on what is ahead. She frowns a moment, shaking her head as her hand lifts to touch at something at her neck. Sitting up a bit straighter she carries a somewhat unreadable expression.
The crowd alternates between gasps and cheers as the fighters clash and wounds are dealt and the spectacle of magic and steel delights the audience. Who will win? Certainly some bets are being placed in the audience as we speak...
Aegon is a large presence on the field, but as his focus seems to be protecting Relios for the time being, he's not putting in a lot of hits on the others... though the One-Two combo of Aegon-Relios seems to be enough to put Zenandra out of the running, so it might just be working for them even if it didn't do much against Yvette. Maybe all his war-paint and shouting and shield banging is just bluster?
As the match is declared to start, Gureylain is one of the few not to charge, firing arrows as he strafes to the side, leaping to roll as the cleaver from Forwen sweeps and cracks against his armor bruising him beneath. Twisting and diving through the hailstorm appearing around him. As his hand empties more arrows are drawn, flipped and fired without time to look down the line of it - letting experience guide his hand, even if his arrows are finding themselves useless against his chosen target, shattering on armor.
Nala, a golden lioness arrives, following Helene.
Helene has joined the Low Tiered Benches.
Forwen walks out beside Qahir, the brutal looking short sword in her hand. At first she is being careful, Qahir moved against Escanor and so did the tiny elf.. until Escanor hit that was.. blinking even if the damage to Q was minor, suddenly the little Nerea has her blade up high as she puts herself between them. "Hey! That's my husband!"
Zenandra has left the Tourney Field.
Halcyon, the white-tailed hawk arrives, delivering a message to Helene before departing.
Forwen has left the Tourney Field.
Continuing his assault, Garett advances on Yvette. Lightwarden flashes in the air as he continues to batter his sword against her defenses. He does not succeed in smashing through them, but he neither does his own let him down until it seems he is ignored by attacks, for now. He keeps his focus on his target, letting the rest of the combat drown out.
Zenandra quickly wrapped the cut on her hand with a small cloth bandage and rushed into the fields as the combat started with a grin on her face, one part excited and one part ferocious. She squared up with Yvette initially, but Leofric stepped in front and took the heavy blow. Zenandra spun from the momentum and sighted upon Aegon with an appreciative nod at his war paint. What better way to show that appreciation than with a quick spear jab? Her spear missed, however, and she was instead treated to a slight jab from Aegon herself and then - ice. The ice spike pierced her abdomen clean through, leaving behind a wound of a couple centimeters in diameter. She looked to Reilos at her right. Her knees shook but did not buckle. Face pale and slight bit of blood upon her lips, Zenandra raised her spear for a retalitory attack but lowered it soon thereafter with a deep breath, a nod, and a smirk. With that, she removed herself from the battlefield and took up a spot in the bleachers while the healers attended to her wound.
Zenandra has joined the Low Tiered Benches.
Escanor seems to be on a roll. He moves like a shadow and strikes like a tank! Many attacks either outright miss him, strike his armor, or only find the smallest purchase on him. But then...he's struck by Qahir with a mystic force that is noticeably, it actually causes his form to bounce along the ground for a bit. When he gets up, he looks at Forwen when she attacks him. He dodges her attack and strikes her with a fierce blow with his blade. Then there's Relios. Escanor charges him when he sees that spell coming, he bobs and weaves, before lunging forth and striking him in the face with his armored fist. Then, he seems to be looking around. He wipes some blood off of his brow, but he's still in this...somehow. "I feel old." Escanor shakes his head ever so softly, but then his eyes look for his next opponent!
You can't see all the sweat, but you can probably smell it. There's a lot. Yvette practically feels like she's swimming in it at this point. Beneath all the steels and the layers beneath that, there's so much of it. Enough that the salt of it is getting in the wounds she already has. Distantly, she thanks the gods for allowing her to stay in the fight this long. The woman moves fluidly on the battlefield; avoiding engaging with one opponent for overlong... save the one she defends herself against. Garett continues to press in against her. She bares her teeth behind that helm. "Care for a bet," she calls out to the Ingith Lord as they fight, parry, fight. In the meantime, she's going after others. Aegon here. Qahir there. And as she does, many of them fall. Sure, not by her hand, but she helps. She distracts. She is, perhaps, the guiding hand on the field or at least the one leaving enough destruction in her wake so that others may fall.
Aegon doesn't seem to be afraid to take some hits, but as they keep coming he falls out of his place at Relios' side and Relios ends up paying the price for it. Shouting and now screaming incoherently, the bearded old elf gets drawn in against some of the more heavily armored opponents now, his trio broken up.
Attention gathered, his shots useless against the heavily armored Faenor, Gureylain fires towards Relios at first - though Aegon's interference draws the woodself's ire. Drawing and firing in such rapid order that one of his quivers has emptied and drops to the ground with a tug of a thong as more arrows are drawn again, ducking and taking a blow across the shoulder pauldron from Aegon, which turns the ranger's attention.
Back pedaling into a roll he comes up with arrows another, launching them with a mask for a face, lips drawn in a hard line, eyes wide, his missiles tracking where his eye focuses.
Qahir was ready to start hurtling something else when Forwen went down. He was off in his own world when it does, and he turns away from his usual range of attack. His gaze remains locked on his target. Instead of the small volleys of attacks he starts forming larger structures of the elements, teetering near that line of his limits.
The Lord Heir was quick on his feet, allowing of Aegon to take most of the attacks in his stead. He made the most of it as he swarmed icicle after icicle in the direction of his foes, doing his best to weaken all that came into his reach. The ground under his feet began to freeze and coat over any grass or dirt with ice. First his ice shot out towards Forwen, barely scratching the man before quickly turning his attention towards Forwen missing his mark. That's when he begins to see the phantom black armor racing towards his direction. Taking a step back, the mist around his body grows in intensity as he swiftly procures an ice in mid air to throw at Escanor, only to find a metal gauntlet pressing up against his cheek and causing him to fly back onto his rear end. Blinking once and then twice, he winces and rubs a hand on his blood face. Attempting to open his mouth, he realizes that his jaw had been popped right out of place. Letting out a light groan, the fog of ice began to dissipate around his form. With dignity, the Lord Heir began to slowly crawl along the ground towards the benches. Even though in his heart he knew he could have kept fighting, he didn't want to scare the High Priest into a fit over bloody elves lying on the ground.
Can't say Forwen isn't ballsy.. there was no backing down at all, at least not until Escanor's hit sent the little Nerea flying backwards and landing on her ass with a yelp. Her helm falling back to her eyes with the impact so that she just fell back into the sands with a groan and trusting she was far enoug out of the melee not to get stepped on.
Relios has left the Tourney Field.
Relios has joined the Low Tiered Benches.
Relios rolls his shoulders as he receives the treatment from the healers on standby at the benches, giving a nod of appreciation in their direction before sauntering properly to the those seated at the benches. He gives a nod of his head to Arminel and Ellyn, allowing a coy smile to breach his expression before quickly moving his attention to Inweth. Taking a seat next to the woman. "Auntie."
Aegon has left the Tourney Field.
Qahir has left the Tourney Field.
Forwen has joined the Grand Pavilion.
Zenandra leans back on the tier of benches above her regardless of if they are occupied or not. She is pressing a thick bandage on her wound which looks better but still very much bleeding. The priestess's head turns briefly when Inweth offers her a compliment and flashes her an only slightly bloody smile. She also nods respectfully at Reilos when he joins the benches. Otherwise, Zenandra is focused primarily on the combat, doing her best to cheer with every strong hit.
Theleria finishes a cup of tea and Sugarloaf refills it for her after a moment. She watches as the number of contests dwindles more and more, there's a distant look to her though.
Gureylain has left the Tourney Field.
Ereg, a barred owl have been dismissed.
Vana, a fluffy calico have been dismissed.
Toot - A Beech Tree Elemental have been dismissed.
With each hit, each strike, a roll, a dodge, a flare of cloak and cape the crowd goes wild! There is a stampede of feet at times that vibrates through the stands. A wild clap of hands or whoops that call out. Some of those bets already starting to pay out while others might shove their hands in their pockets.
Aegon is fighting less for himself, and more for Faenor most of the brawl, but it's when he breaks from his Kinship and starts swinging solo that he gets felled by an arrow. An ARROW of all things! He's not happy about it and there's a moment where it looks like he's going to keep swinging, keep fighting despite the rules. He swings the sword Staghorn high and brings it down flat against hist shield, making a lot of noise as he starts bouncing up and down. Despite his wounds there's a ton of fight left in the old elf and he has to will himself out of the way so the remaining combatants can carry on. Next year maybe!
Qahir has joined the Grand Pavilion.
The Lord Heir's eyebrows raise considerably as he witness the fight between Yvette and Garett that eventually had the Lord Heir as the winner. Hands came together to offer a small clap along with the roaring crowd cheering for Garett's victory.
Theleria sets down her tea and claps for the winner of the melee.
What a fight! Escanor sees Qahir's massive spell coming for him, and in an instant, Escanor knows how to move. He wisely shifts his feet, leaping straight through the opening that the spell left! once he cleared it, he brings his weapon atop of Qahir in fury! Then, suddenly, an arrow strikes Escanor's shoulder, along the lining of his armor. spinning on his heels and leaping away, Escanor reaches for the struck part of his body and he narrows his eyes at it. But..he knows because of the blood that starts to flow, the judges would eliminate him, so he doesn't try to hide it. He gives a bow to Gureylain out of respect, happy with his own performance, before he leaves the grounds. Suddenly, there is a loud cheer as Garett is proclaimed the victor.
With the deciding blow, the Faenor that proved largely quiet throughout the fight lifts her hands in applause for the Ingith Lord Heir. Inweth rises gently from her seat as she smiles lightly toward the victor, inclining her head in a congratulatory nod.
Arminel, leaning nearly out of his seat on the benches, whistles sharply once Gureylain goes down. "Well fought, Lord Gurey!" he calls, nearly standing as the final two square off. Before too long, Yvette has also gone down, and the Marchioness gets a round of applause from the Lorandi, though his disappointment at seeing the two Lorandi go down is evident. "Seems Faenor takes this one..." he comment,s looking back to Ellyn.
Aegon has joined the Low Tiered Benches.
Gureylain has joined the Low Tiered Benches.
Relios lets out a humoured chuckle from closed lips as he watches, leaning back to recline comfortably. He doesn't seem inclined to give off any rowdy cheering for the almost winners or winner. He looks up towards Arminel, "Looks to be the case, Cousin. I hope you didn't bet anything too important to the High Lord Ellyn." He flashes a quick cheeky grin before smoothing his features for a more regal look.
He was shooting arrows. He swears he was shooting arrows. Now his nose is sitting at a strange angle - or it feels like it. Hard to breath... breath though the mouth. Gureylain stumbles to his feet, blinking owlishly at the King's cheers before he realizes he's being praised, but then his niece fall as he makes his way to the seats. The old ranger slumps down into a seat, grabs his nose and staightens it with a grunching sound.
Though she does not win, Yvette remains standing until the bitter end. It's a lot of nicks and cuts that get through, however, until she and Garett are facing off in the final 'duel' of the melee in a field that is torn up by the press of many feet over the course of a battle that is surprisingly short all told. For the combatants it surely must feel as hours... and for the spectators? Likely all too short. For the Marchioness, it is a hit to her arm. One that makes her drop her blade just after she clashes with the Faenor. It's too much for arm and shoulder after all else and she must drop to a knee to recover the sabre and hold up an arm in a sign that she yields. When she stands, she takes a deep breath and pulls off her helm. "You fought well," she tells the man, before turning and tilting her head towards the King, respectfully.
Forwen managed to get that over sized helm off her head about the time Escanor took out Qahir, then Gurey took out Escanor and the little Nerea let up a whoop!! "Okay Gureylain!! I forgive you!" yelled just before she winces as Gurey falls too. When all that is left standing is Garret, the girl snorts and climbs to her feet. "Well thats not surprising." and starts after her husband.
Aegon has to take his time getting seen by the healers, though he makes a very sour face about it. Sweat and a little bit of left over blood has 'spoiled' his war paint, and his shield is still carrying somebody's arrow in it, but once he's free from being attended to he seems in high spirits again, and he starts going around with his shield in both hands, looking for an archer to return that arrow to.
As her applause comes to an end, Inweth settles back to her seat, careful to tuck her dress beneath herself properly as she does so.
Seren watches the last combatants throw their all in an when Garett comes out victorious she lifts her hands to clap for those fighting. Her smile grows and the Regent rises to greet Gureylain as he gets near. "Cousin, well done," she offers him even as he sits and takes care of his nose. She winces and slowly lowers to sit beside him, tilting her head to look at him. "You..mmmm" she slips her fingers into the wrist of her dress and produces a kercheif and offers it to him.
Growling in something akin to joy as his blood is finally drawn. Garett turns on the Archer once he has been hit, and dispatches him with a few cuts until one gets through. Then it is he and Yvette once more. Swinging until his strike knocks her sword from her hand. He stills his swing, standing back and bowing to her before he sheathes his sword. He lifts his hand, pulling his helm from his head and lifts it in the air in victory with a savage grin on his face.
The melee continues on and on as fighter after fighter drops out. Rawlin winces as some of his friends take hits that he hopes he never has to endure, but is gladdened when they walk away on their own two feet. Finally it is just Yvette and Garett left. He tries not to cheer too hard for Yvette, but he at least puts on an air of impartiality. And then she is out and Garett is the only one left.
The High Priest strides out onto the field and smiles to the Ingith heir, stopping beside him to take his armored arm up to raise it. "Your winner and Champion of the Free-For-All, Lord Heir Garett Ingith of the Faenor Kinship. His prize will be awarded later at the awards ceremony, but let it go out from here that the Lord Heir has stood against many and come out as the lone elf standing this day. No one can question the skill put on display here today by all of the elves who participated. Each and every one of them showed what they are capable of and for myself, I am heartened to know the types of elves who will fight for us should we ever face danger again."
He lowers Garett's arm to clasp him on the shoulder. "Well fought, Lord Heir. I will be sure all of Aarandor knows that you prevailed here this day."
Ellyn is nearly dragged with Arminel as he leans so far forward on his seat from the twine of her arm beneath his. She lets her fingers slide from his wrist to his elbow as her weight rocks back in a light swirl of skirts that attempt to tangle about the King's feet. "Win some, lose some," she comments to him and while others clap, the High Lord give Garett a respectable dip of her head. As is oft her nature it slips on a dime to call out to Gureylain, "Sadly you were down, but not out else I might have had to claim -one- of my bets."
"Well fought, Marchioness," Arminel says, once the Monstald Grandmaster comes back over to join the seating area. "Good to see two Lorandi finishing in the top three," he remarks, approvingly. Relios' remark produces an idle smirk from the Serannar. "Thankfully, not this time, at least," he returns.
Qahir arrives to Forwen while clutching his side. Even after his damage has been healed he still holds his arm there. He offers his wife a smile, and then starts watching the rest of the melee while he can. "What wasn't surprising?"
Escanor approaches Arminel, bowing before his King. "Forgive me, my King. I could not claim victory for Lorandi this day." He bows deeply before him.
Arminel smiles as Escanor nears, giving his cousin a (careful) clap to the shoulder, encouragingly. "You and the others represented Lorandi very well," he says, sounding pleased. "Good to see so many participating. You all did well," he commends.
Theleria has left the Low Tiered Benches.
Epleblomst, a short apple tree in constant bloom, Sugarloaf - a chunky raccoon leave, following Theleria.
Relios turns his attention towards Inweth, canting his head with an inquisitive look. "What do you think, Auntie? Anything I can do to improve?"
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