Marian murmurs her well wishes to Monique and then Alis. Then she makes her way up to the quiet booth where Alarissa is sitting to keep her company. Since both of them are still recovering from their injuries they make quite a pair.

Carissa, a Malvici bodyguard arrives, following Eirene.

Merek takes his time to move towards the stands, and settles at one of them. He has on his black leathers with silver plates as well as a tasseted kama. He pulls up the hood which is attached to watch while he adjusts a few belts and relaxes in his seat. Observing in thoughtfulness.

Mae spots So Serious Leona, and proceeds to flash a wide smile, and kiss the air in the Lord Commander's direction. It must be true love! Mae gives a little giggle, then looks back over to Wynna. "Heya," she says.

Monique murmurs something quiet back to Marian, touching her shoulder gently, then turning back to Agnarr. Something low is said to him, with a quick grin. There's a wave to some of the faces in the stands, too.

Gideon walks into the square, and as everyone gets seated he steps through in an effort to prepare himself for the event. As the crimson man makes his way through, he spots the familiar sight of a bandaged woman, moving over to the high Lady of Thrax. "Look at you getting out." He says as he approaches her booth, leaning against it as he waits for the fun part to begin. "Comfortable in there?"

At least Agnarr is paying attention to his surrounds, so when Monique touches him he's not accidentally dismembering anyone. Lowering the warsword to rest its point on his foot, he leans over to listen.

"Look at me indeed. You are welcome to join us" She gesture to Marian. "I came to observe and bear witness. Prince Gideon, meet Princess Marian Redrain, nee Valardin. We were sister in laws. Married brothers."

Eirene is her usual irritable self as she strides into the stands to watch, black leather coat buttoned up high to her collar and braid of black and white pinned up high atop her head. "What damn fool shit is going to go down today," she comments to her guard as the pair find seats.

"Of course you are." Alis grins at Beaumont, giving Marian's hand a quick squeeze and the woman herself an affectionate smile before she goes to sit, and then stepping back just enough so she can turn to address the onlookers gathered. "Thank you all for gathering to witness the duel of Champions representing Lady Monique and myself. It is a time honored Oathlands tradition that venerates the chivalric ideals, and Gloria herself. Once this duel is finished, and the winner declared, the matter which sparked the challenge is considered resolved. I look forward to working with Lady Monique on many issues in the future." She turns to the woman herself then, and inclines her head. "Have you anything to add, Lady Monique?"

Margerie has joined the the Concessions Tent.

Marian glances at Gideon and gives a nod as he's introduced by Alarissa, "It's a pleasure to meet you. Please...join us. We're just enjoying the view." She glances at the field where the participants are getting ready. She pauses for a moment when Eirene looks her way and gets a guilty look on her face because she knows what she did.

Eirene has joined the Far Stands.

Beaumont rests his sword against his thigh and puts gloved hands together in applause for Alis. Blue eyes cut across the stands, to see who is paying attention. Who is gossiping, who came with the most form-fitting attire...

Monique turns to face the crowd, a smile crossing her lips. "Thank you, all, for coming, to honor Gloria, and to see this matter properly resolved. I hope you've got booze at the ready, and I hope you will join me," she retrieves a flask, holding it high, "in toasting to the honor of Gloria, the Oathlands, and our Champions." She pours a small libation out onto the ground, and then takes a swallow from the flask. "Ready when you both are," to the Champions, extending her flask to Agnarr if he wants to toast of it.

If anyone is watching, they'll see Mae start to point to the four individuals on the field, and murmurs words aside to Wynna. Clearly she's giving the who's-who of this particular duel.

Sombra arrives, following Edward.

Esoka is here for the duel. She mills through the crowd, finding a place to watch and cheer on the champions.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Monique before departing.

"Bad fortune to drink," mutters Agnarr, but he still partakes of Monique's flask anyhow. He pours his own share on the ground, rolling out his armored shoulders and then looking across to Alis and her chosen champion, Beaumont. He stands straight, saluting them both with the warsword. "Ready as can be, I reckon."

Edward comes down through the rows and heads towards the general seating to find a place to slip into and settle in to watch.

Esoka has joined the General Seating.

Leona suddenly shouts from where she stands near the concessions, "Kick his ass!" She is completely unclear on which 'he' and which 'ass' though. Is this genius political statement or simply good cheer at the impending duel? Probably the latter.

Monique leans aside briefly to receive a messenger with a box, handing the box off to her assistant with a grin, and then retrieving her flask from Champion Agnarr, murmuring something quietly to him.

Alis gives the men plenty of room, please and thank you, stepping back towards the stands so they can both swing those huge weapons around and impress the ladies. "Equip your weapons then, Champions. And begin when ready." She bows towards Beaumont with an intended flourish, and then watches with intent.

Beaumont is not familiar with this custom. He watches Agnarr pour the drink on the ground and gives a thoughtful nod. "As you say, sir." Champion he is, but princely training is apparent when he kicks his sword up into a practiced ready position. Big swords. Light armor. This should be fun.

Beaumont wields Compensator, a two-handed redsteel sword.

Eirene looks more like a rich mercenary than a Voice of a noble house, bored and just here for a fight. "What was this over again? The fuck if I can recall," she mutters aloud. A drink is produced from her inside pocket, flashing red steelsilk when her coat unbuttons.

Eirene does a mental recollection and her eyes flutter in thought. A second drink is quickly taken.

Gideon lifts his helmet away slowly, the one eyed plate of rubicund instead replaced with a one eyed Thrax man. "Nice to meet me? You've hurt my feelings now Marian." He says with a mock tone, pouting a little. "Here I thought this face was unforgettable." Tucking his helmet under his arm, he moves around the table to join the two.

Orathy happens upon the tournament grounds having heard all the noise. Interest was further peaked when he discovered one particular name on the lists today. He swaggers to find a spot near by the concessions tent, arms crossing over his chest as he finds a location to watch from.

Gideon has joined the Quiet Booth.

Orathy has joined the the Concessions Tent.

Aida, an old woman arrives, following Christine.

Christine has joined the Far Stands.

A fight has broken out here. Use @spectate_combat to watch, or +fight to join.

Christine is late! She rushes to one of the last benches and waves at Eirene. And the others. Oh, so many know faces! Wave, wave! To Marian, and the people fighting too!

Agnarr wields a monstrous sword of war with a long banded grip.

"To Gloria," Agnarr calls. 'Or ... whoever,' is his mutter following, heathen that he is. He, like Beaumont, also kicks his sword into position, that being a staple move for the proper application of big swords. He, however, wears a little more protection, moving conservatively.

Beaumont takes moderate damage.

Agnarr takes minor damage.

Eirene nods to Christine, lifting her chin in hello. She takes another drink from her flask and claps a little as the fight finally begins and the two men take up their stances.

Eirene gets a standard steel flask decorated with black kid leather from a black leather belt with a silver falcon buckle.

Christine claps her hands at the fighter and smiles to Eirene. She looks at the flask and grins. "Nice."

Beaumont charges across the scuffed ground toward Agnarr, into a two handed lunge that looks very impressive. The angles between his knee and the ground are crisp, almost artistic. The extension of arm and sword is long and straight. It is, however, an overly telegraphed sort of move that barely nicks Agnarr and leaves him open to counterattack.

"Which god's the one about love again?" Agnarr asks. While he isn't yelling, his voice carries well enough to people who have the fortune to acquire front-row seating. Tentatively approaching Beaumont, guarding at the roof, he throws a quick stab to take advantage of Beaumont's opening. But it's off by just enough that the prince earns mostly cosmetic damage (and a little sting) to his robes. The northman takes the same sort of damage in turn to mail, grunting. "To her, too. Or him," he says. While his showboating and stage-fighting needs work, he isn't quite in killing mode either, conservative in movement to make a contrast with his opponent.

Beaumont takes minor damage.

Agnarr takes minor damage.

"I lose more often to opponents that lack armor than those who have it, it's a matter of if he's fast enough for the lack of armor to pay off."

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Christine before departing.

Eirene consults with her guard a moment as Agnarr calls out his question. "Does that count?" Neither of them is sure. Eirene makes a ruling "No, doesn't count." Satisfied, she leans back in her chair to watch the handsome prince versus the armored mercenary. "Should have worn more armor," she yells to the Oathlander, agreeing.

Edward has joined the General Seating.

Alis watches the two men with a smile curving her lips as the distinct fighting styles are noted. And, her hands at the ready and clapping as each man scores a hit against the other. One might think she's tuning out the audience at first, but the occasional glance back there and quick smile at some of the commentary says otherwise.

Edward settles into a set and leans forward against a seat in front of him, watching the match as it happens, a neutral look gracing his face.

Monique watches the field and the contenders with great interest as the duel starts, cheering on Agnarr with enthusiasm. Her eyes, now and then, drift to the stands, and catch on certain figures. Eirene's shout out catches her attention, and her lips quirk up.

"Limerance!" Beaumont supplies, twisting and bringing up the big blade in an arcing cut - again, a trade. There's not a lot of defense in two men swinging giant blades at each other. "You're supposed to at least pretend to adopt a civilized religion, you know." He grins.

Leona nods at something Cristoph says. "Duels are very different than actual battle, but painful nonetheless. In battle it's so seldom one on one that different strategems apply. It's at least part of why the Champions Guild fights the duels, and not soldiers. A completely different mindset, really."

"Some pretty lady said she'd show me something if I'd won," claims Agnarr somewhat loftily, still in that same voice. He grunts, catching the blade on his sword's strong - still ingrained not to speak until they break the bind and he withdraws. More nicks on either, but nothing yet. "Limerance'd be upset if I wasted tea," he insists with a snort - and then adds, "I've not got your pretty face, eh?" It continues.

Beaumont takes moderate damage.

Marian is sitting in the quiet booth, watching the fight closely as she chats with Alarissa and Gideon. When Beaumont takes another hit, she shakes her head and murmurs a few more words. It's clear she doesn't think things are boding well for the Valardin knight.

Christine laughs and nods. "Oh, they are. Almost all... but yes, it's better than we and it's fun."

"No, luckily," Beaumont says, backing off and examining the first major cut. As he said, luckily it is not to his face. "I daresay it means more to me than tea to Limerance." Louder, for the crowd, and with a sweep of his unbloodied arm indicating Agnarr, he calls, "The winner!"

Alis is overheard praising Agnarr for: Well fought!

Alis is overheard praising Beaumont for: No hits taken to the face!

Marian is overheard praising Agnarr for: For showing well at the duel.

Eirene claps. First blood means nobody gets hurt means no Mercies or her own civilian doctors are needed. She tosses a salute to Christine and heads back, not bothering to hear the end of the conflict resolved.

Monique cheers both contenders as the fight comes to an end, perhaps looking relieved for Beaumont's face as well. "Well fought! Both of you! Glory to Gloria, indeed!"

Another exchange. Perhaps Agnarr mucks up his part of the champion routine, slicing a cut into the meat of Beaumont's arm. At least it is not deep, largely superficial. With it decided, he quickly lowers his weapon and raises his fist - to salute, first, at Beaumont, and then to the crowd. "I got lucky his arm's naked," he states to the crowd, "When we practice, he oft has my number."

Eirene stops. Sighs. Drinks.

As it appears Gloria has chosen the victor, Alis is not one to dwell overlong on things, and in resolution she stands to approach the two Champions. "Well fought, both of you. And thank you, Prince Beaumont for your representation. And your beautiful face. Lady Monique..." She turns towards her. "As per the terms of our agreement, I stand before you all to admit that I have overreacted in the matter involving Lady Monique Greenmarch and what I perceived as disrespect to my brother, Prince Edain Valardin."

And, as also requested, I admit that it is true that I am not equipped to see his faults. I will go a step further and admit that when I look at Prince Edain, it is not faults that I am able to see or even look for. I see my brother. I see my liege. I see the once young..er man who dreamed of being a Knight Errant. Obviously that was not to be, and he is now the Oathland's Highlord. A mantle he never wanted or expected, but has worn as best he can. And while I am sure he has made mistakes, I am and will remain as his staunchest Champion.

Therefore, Lady Monique, I humbly offer my apologies for my failure to see past that and to his faults. As I know we all have them. And for overreacting." She inclines her head towards the Greenmarch woman, with a warm smile. "I will committ these words to the White Journals as well."

Christine waves to Eirene and looks around.

Eirene takes a final drink as she strolls out.

Eirene has left the Far Stands.

Carissa, a Malvici bodyguard leaves, following Eirene.

A little too fashionably late to the party, Caspian enters the tournament grounds and heads over to the gathering of people who are watching the fight, standing at the edge of the group, sighing in disappointment, "Aww, is the duel over?" He groans in disappointment. "Figures I missed it," he snaps his fingers and sighs. "Oh well. Maybe the next one."

"Well fought, Living Mountain! Well fought, Pretty Prince!" Mae calls form the stands, and she even stomps her feet, to not only thud on the wooden stands, but also add the jingle of her boots to the celebration. She falls quiet, when Alis stands, so she can hear the words. Once they are said, Mae gives a clap. "Gods bless you, Princess Alis! And Gods bless you, Lady Monique!" she calls from the stands. Noisy commoners, aren't they the worst.

"Glory to Gloria," Beaumont agrees, looking as if he's trying not to laugh. He seems truly impressed by Alis' speech, though, and inclines his head. "Though the victory itself serves in lieu of apology, I think it's very gracious to offer one so explicitly, Your Highness. Well done." And of course he grins up at Mae...or whoever is calling him pretty.

Margerie lifts a sadly not exceedingly colorul drink in salute to the champions. "A gracious victor, a graceful concession."

Wynna remains as silent as a mouse, looking vaguely annoyed at something.

Marian gives a few claps for her sister's victory and then gives a smile to Alis for her gracious speech. She praises Agnarr for his duel well fought and Beaumont gets a salute as well. She glances at her sister after Alis' speech to see what her words are.

Edward raises to his feet and then he nods to Caspian, "Yeah. The large man there," he indicates to Agnarr, "Won the duel over the Prince." he motions to Beaumont, "It was an interesting fight." and then Edward shifts to slip out of the group of people as he tucks his hands behind his back and he looks at Alis as she gives her speech.

Edward has left the General Seating.

Reigna is overheard praising Alis for: Grace and character, she is a role model to all.

Beaumont gives a close-lipped, sideswept smile at something quietly passed between himself and his fellow Champion, and lifts a hand to the stands in thanks as people begin to filter out.

Monique listens to Alis, watches the Princess as she speaks them. "I hope we can put this behind us, Your Highness. I do not fault you for being your brother's Champion. It was why I accepted your challenge. He is a good man. You are a good woman. The Oathlands are fortunate to have you both." She dips her crimson head. "Champion Agnarr, Champion Beaumont. I thank you both for your services to Gloria. Drinks on me, whenever you'll have them."

It's done. So, after a moment of lingering, Agnarr turns to the side to wipe the tiny bit of Beaumont-blood off his sword and then rest it on his shoulder. "Gods bless," he tells the crowd. Meanwhile, he does carry on low conversation with his counterpart. "Aye, good," he answers Monique thus. "I'll drink."

"Did he? I keep hearing that he is one of the best swordsmen of the city, but I keep missing any chance to see him fight," Caspian admits over to Edward with a shrug of his shoulders to the man. "Was it at least a good fight?" He inquires to Edward. "Also, I'm Caspian Wild, Champion for hire to any nobles with wounded honor."

Christine claps her hands and cheers. She finally spots Edward and moves to join him and Caspian. "Hello, dears!"

Gideon has left the Quiet Booth.

"Of course, Lady Monique. We will work together to better the Oathlands, as it should be." Alis agrees. "I will find bottles of something good to send to you both, for your fine performance. And I promise not to drink the contents first." She gives a quick grin to the Champions there, as people begin to file out.

Edward looks at Caspian, "A pleasure Champion Wild. And I can not speak to the reputation, but I do know that I have not seen Agnarr lose a fight where Champions are concerned. So make of that what you like." Edward motions to the large man in the armor as he turns back to watch the crowd, "The fight was short actually."

Alarissa has left the Quiet Booth.

"Good bye, Esoka!" Mae chirps as the other woman gets up to go. Mae blows a kiss in her direction. "Consider my words! Fast, fast, fast! And small! And easy!" she says, with a grin.

Marian gets up slowly, following Alarissa out as she leaves. She doesn't approach Monique, Alis and their champions this time because there's quiet a crowd there. She carefuly makes her way out, using slow, stiff movements.

Marian has left the Quiet Booth.

Ender, a Silver Gyrfalcon, Ursa leave, following Marian.

Merek stands up and makes his way on after a bit.

Aneka, 3 Iron Guardsmen, Meeka leave, following Merek.

The greeting of dears has Caspian turning towards Christine, offering the lady a wide, friendly smile as he greets, "Hello to you too, my fair lady," he greets the woman with a sweeping bow and a wide smile. "I hope that the match was entertaining."

Esoka has left the General Seating.

"This is nice," Beaumont says, gesturing to the two women who are resolving their differences civilly. "Makes the ruined shirt worth it."

Cristoph has left the the Concessions Tent.

Painbow, a militant pygmy goat, Rupert, the Laurent Archivist leave, following Cristoph.

Monique inclines her crimson head to Alis, dipping a curtsey, then turns to Master Agnarr. "To the taverns once you're out of your armor?" She looks to Beaumont, a familiar grin there. "Welcome to join us. It's been forever since I've drunk you under a table, Your Highness."

"Ain't like your shirts last long, with how people tend to rip them off you," Agnarr comments to Beaumont in a dry voice, stepping back over to the bench to sheathe the warsword and pick up the baldric, nodding over to Monique in response. "I'll take a bottle."

After bowing to the lady Caspian turns his attention back to Edward. "Not surpising, a skilled combatant in a fight of first blood? Only one good hit is needed. Fights of those closer to skill tend to be more entertaining, even if their skill is not that impressive."

Alis can't help but laugh, looking at poor Beau's ruined shirt. "That is what Champions are for, is it not? However, I think we all know I cannot drink anyone under the table. A baby Redrain can probably handle their liquor better then I. So I will leave you all to the Tavern while I see to other things. And hopefully will speak with you soon." As she bows, preparing to take her leave.

Christine grins and nods. "Oh, yes! it was fun!" She answers to Caspian. "I arrived a bit late, though..." And to Edward. "We need to talk about writs, dear."

Beaumont makes a show of considering the offer. "That does sound tempting... I imagine Agnarr is quite a comedian in his cups. He's funnier than you'd think. But, I should get this bandaged and keep a meeting." Already backing away, he points at Monique and Agnarr, and even the departing Alis. "Soon, though? Very soon!"