Waldemai comes in out of the cold. "By all the gods, that snow is something foul," he grumbles. "It's like sparks from the forge." Well, there's always the usual treatment for burning sparks. "Ale, and lots of it," he asks for, before climbing into his usual seat up above.

Waldemai has joined the upper rafters.

Ian takes note of Prisila when she sits down nearby. She's probably used to people staring, and the long look -- uncomfortably, maybe even impolitely long -- look that he gives her could be described as that. But people who stare usually display expressions of awe, startlement, or judgement, and Ian shows none of these. Or any other expression, really. Then he seems to remember there's a drink in front of him, takes a sip, and goes back to watching the staff set up like nothing ever happened.

Dolmen, a Crimson Agent arrives, following Harlex.

"Yeah, it's horrible, I wouldn't recommend catching it on your tongue," says Caspian back to Waldemai with a shake of his head, finally pulling the hood of his cloak off of his head. He looks around a moment, noting, "Not a large crowd this evening. I suppose with the weird ass snow not many people feel like going out," he says, moving over to the ring to the corner table Ian is at, sitting himself across from him. He looks over to Prisila and her tattoos, wondering to her, "New around here?"

Ian nods a silent greeting to Caspian when the other man comes to join him, for all the world like this was always the plan. He takes a sip of his drink, then looks at Prisila again when the other man asks her a question.

The Hart's arena is a little less packed tonight as many seem to fear the twisted weather that has come to settle upon the city, but a few hale and hearty souls brave the trip to the Hart and are greeted by a more than delighted little vixen.

Waldemai's arrival is great with a bright smile from Valencia as the favored guest is warmed by more than a few of the Hart's pretty little barmaids all seeing ot the master smith's comfort as he move inside. Ian is met with a bright smile and warm incline of head and the offer of a delicate hand. "Good evening to you as well, my Lord Ian. I'm glad you could be here. Missere Grandmaster Caspian, a pleasure to see you as wel,l," Valencia beams as he arrives.

Weird ass snow or no weird ass snow was going to get in the way of Alrec showing his devotion to Gloria. He arrives, late albeit, but here never the less. Covered by a wool cloak with a hood, he walks over to the registration table to sign up.

Soot, a gray foxhound puppy, Violet, a shopkeeper, 1 Crimson Blades Lieutenant, 3 Iron Guardsmen arrive, following Petal.

Caspian has joined the corner table.

Theodoric has joined the ringside great table.

Apollo had not intended to be in the golden hart tonight, but then the green snow started and he entered the first bar he could find. He's since been holed up at the bar drinking hot chocolate, until he noticed the crowd going through to the arena and figured he might as well look at what's going on. "Evening."

Harlex is near enough to the Crimson Blades Headquarters to warrant some manner of pause. His retainer continuously complaining of the burning green snow, it has him grated enough to stop over at the Golden Hart. He follows the crowd, arriving at the Arena. Clearly fresh from work, the mercenary-captain is dressed in a vicious set of plate-mail with a pair of swords on his left hip. He lifts a claw-tipped finger, scratching at the side of his beard with some thought.

Scipio looks like someone who's had a heck of a night. His fingers are folded into his sleeves, looking cold and pale as well. It's certainly why -- after a sweeping glance -- he steps immediately up towards the bar, waiting for the bartender to notice him, the Whisper far too polite to yell for attention like some of the other patrons are apt to do. He might be waiting a while.

Prisila's eyes are only for the arena. They don't much move as she sits there with a stone face and slightly vacant eyes. Although the slow curl of the lip at Ian's stares, presumably, are indication she's quite perceptive of her surroundings. Eventually she licks her lips and takes a breath through her nostrils before peeking at Ian,"Good evening to you as well my lord." With that she offers a half-smirk, head swiveling to Caspian as she shrugs,"I mean. Yes and no. You?"

Petal arrives at the Hart while adorned in her simple common clothing and while toting her very large sewing basket. She peeks over the area trying to get a sense for things here and then looks for a seat.

Caspian lifts his hand in a wave over to Petal, calling to her, "Hey Petal! Come over here for a moment, I want to talk to you!" He asks the woman with a fond smile given her way, curling his fingers to her, "I got a little proposition for you."

Petal looks over to Caspian, having a gentle smile for the GrandMaster Champion. She starts in his direction while still carrying her heavy sewing basket. It looks a bit too heavy for the tiny seamstress. The girl then takes a seat near him.

Petal has joined the corner table.

Theodoric is really looking rather comfortable. He has a drink in one hand as opposed to some who might be bundled or red faced from the cold outside he is unfettered and looks well warm, whatever red his face contains must be from the repeated lifting of the glass to his lips. He takes his usual seat at the great table and within a few moments is being served what looks like a large roast.

Lethe steps in from the cold strange snow. She looks around for a good seat to watch.

By the registration table, Alrec stretches in his leathers, swinging a scimitar from side to side. He looks up to the patrons, seeing who's here and who's not.

Weapons Rack is now unlocked.

Violet Armor Tournament Chest is now unlocked.

Blue Armor Tournament Chest is now unlocked.

Bronze Armor Tournament Chest is now unlocked.

Silver Armor Tournament Chest is now unlocked.



Gracefully clad in scarlet southern silks that embrace enticing curves and slender waist, Valencia moves to the center of the Ring of Valor.

Offering a bright smile, she gracious inclines her head to the room and calls out: "My lords and ladies, misseres and madams, dearest friends.... welcome to my Hart. Thank you for braving winter's worst to join us tonight and for continuing to make our Hart so full and so very happy."

"Tonight, we offer you an exciting tournament of skill and passion, excellent drink and even better company. We hope that you enjoy all that our Hart has to offer. If you should need anything, please ask."

"To our competitors, we wish best of luck. And, to one and all, both on the sands and in the stands, we offer our thanks, our hearts and an abundance of life, luck and love."

"And now, my friends, if you please. The bar is open for your pleasure. The sands are open to receive your skill. Please enjoy the festivities! Competitors, if you would please take to the sands so we may begin tonight's matches."

Lethe has joined the upper rafters.

Alrec has joined the ring of valor.

Harlex has joined the ring of valor.

Harlex gets scorched wolfheart helmet from a dark canvas messenger bag.

Harlex puts a dark hooded cloth cowl in a dark canvas messenger bag.

The little vixen offers a nod to both the large men as the take the field., "Good luck, sirs. May you have a most excellent fight," she smiles gentle as she steps from the sands and moves to greet Theodoric with an affectionate smile. "My Missere," she nods warmly. "I'm so very glad to see you. Would you join me?" she invites as she looks to see who else might need a table.

Valencia has joined the ringside great table.

The Admiral enters the ring wearing a wool coat. He raises his hands to those at the stands and drops his coat, walking lines with his scimitar drawn. A grin forces on his scarred face as his gaze study Harlex, "Well, well, well if it isn't a Dead Crow." Alrec says, switching his stance as he waits for the fight to begin.

Something subtle darkens in Ian's expression as Alrec and Harlex walk into the ring.

It takes some time for Scipio to secure a drink. When he does, it's something dark and strong that looks wholly too much for his slender form, but he gamely downs a good quarter of the contents anyway, spluttering afterward. Only then does he manages to focus on the events unfolding, the Whisper giving the hostess a mute bow should she look his way, before his gaze goes to the competitors.

After talking a little with Petal he looks up to Prisila, smiling her way, "Sorry, had to do some business. No, I've been in the city for over two years now. I was mostly asking because you seem to be a prodigal. Was wondering how new you are to The Compact."

Harlex lowers his hood and he puts out his hands to his retainer, a helmet is given into his claw tipped gauntlets. The bestial thing resting then over his features with the top jaw opened wide. He steps down into the sands. One smooth motion brings his loose his sword and the other hand is risen, just behind the perked metallic ear of the helm, for the jaws to clamp shut with a spray of spark. He doesn't seem to have anything to offer Alrec insofar as banter, although by his stance, and the look in his eyes--he's ready to show him something. Probably something bad.

Harlex wields Memento, a curved and funereal sword.

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

Caspian has left the corner table.

Apollo decides at random to head towards Scipio. "So, what a weather out there, huh." He offers in a tone that is clearly intended to hide his worries, and failing to do so. He takes a sip from his hot chocolate.

Valencia settles beside Theodoric, her eyes to the ring with great interest. "The Admiral was a wonder last event. I adore watching him in the ring. The captain, though, I have not seen fight before, but by all accounts he is formidable. I hope he is as excellent as reported," she smiles again, her large dark eyes glimmering with excitement.

The men ready themselves as the Hart's staff prepare the field and the little princess turns to see Scipio arrive. She offers the man a little nod and smile, calling out, "Good evening, missere. Welcome to my Hart? Would you care to join us?" she invites wincing a little as he sputtlers. "Are you alright?" Valencia asks alarmed.

Alrec doesn't press against Harlex, instead, he studies the man who first grazes him and then breaks briefly between his defenses. There is a scowl on Alrec's face and he presses forward, being more aggressive.

Harlex is fast, probably faster than he should be in that plated-mail. His sword glides with each stroke, vicious in the rapacious nature of their cuts. He isn't a lumbering knight, he's active, aggressive, and kinetic. Moving with the grace and hunger of a beast. Suitable enough. There's something deeply controlled with all this savageness, too. As if, in some subtle way, he guides that explosive strength right where it needs to go--when it needs to bite.

"It's something all right," Scipio manages to respond to Apollo with a mostly even voice, giving the other man a respectful nod. "And not just the weather. Oddness all around." He glances towards Apollo's chocolate, then back to his drink, happy, it seems, to indulge again. "I--" and then Valencia's calling out towards him, and the Whisper murmurs to Apollo, "We should greet the hostess." Master of etiquette, even unsettled he can't ignore such rules. Valencia is given a low bow. "Your Highness. Whisper Scipio. I, uh... forgive me. The drink was strong, but welcome. This is...?" he turns to Apollo, realizes belatedly he doesn't know the other man's name, either.

Caspian has joined the corner table.

There is a wild swashing about Alrec's motion as he is unable to strike the man who dances around him. He steps back fixing a glare on Harlex for a moment, "Shit." And then charges, opening his defensive to be struck hard by his opponent.

Harlex is a blur, a terrible dark thing, swimming around Alrec like a heavy conscience. That sword of his is accurate, making those fluid cutting motions between the sharp and gliding evasion of the swordsman. Due to that wolf-headed helmet, only his eyes are visible. Cold fire burning in the malachite hues.

"My apologizes for the drink being too strong, Whisper Scipio. I hope you will allow my Hart to make it up to you, " the little vixen's smiles, offering the man a delicate hand. "May I introduce my very dear Missere Theodoric Ulbran. I'm so very happy to see you in my Hart, Missere Whisper, would you and your friend care to join us," she nods warmly to Apollo and back, happily inviting him to join them with a wave of her small hand.

Prisila looked to Caspian and gave the slow nod of comprehension. "It's complicated but sure. I do have Prodigal roots, among other things. I'm relatively new to the Compact in that my House has historically never held a holding in the capital and that I've been in Eurus for ten years." Callously she shrugs, offering him a smile of the eyes. Her accent certainly sounded foreign, not quite Lycene, not quite Prodigal and something hard to place if one wasn't quite the linguist.

Ian's attention seems to have shifted to the fight. It's questionable whether he even knows the people around him are having a conversation.

Alrec sways at Harlax's sword, trying to keep it at bay. "Guess the Dead Crows ain't so dead after all." The pirate manages to say between slashes. Still, his avoidance is not good enough because when Harlex does hit him, it sets him down a peg.

"I know her highness, I've been welcomed to her hart before." Apollo stretches the word 'hart' a bit to almost make it sound like heart. "But for your sake, whisper Scipio. I am Apollo Oakwood, master leatherworker." He introduces himself and takes another sip from his drink. "Many odd things indeed, I fear they may be an omen for worse to come."

"Guess not," Harlex says or growls, really, behind the muffling of metal. He hasn't even used his armor to defend against the attacks, he's simply evaded them wholly so far, and his curved sword is a menace to evade. The strikes hitting with the impact of a massive pool of strength behind the already viciously dexterous motions.

"Sorry about that, had to get the deal while it still existed," says Caspian back to the group as he sits himself down, sporting a new Star Iron Ring. He looks over to Prisila, lifting his brows as he says, "Eurus? Interesting. I know someone else who's traveled there, she hates the place. I'm glad you got out of there alive." He turns to Petal, nodding to her, "Keep me in mind next time you want to make a donation. I'll do it for you, trust me, you'll prefer it that way. Get your name out there."

Alrec checked stamina, willpower + survival at difficulty 1, rolling 67 higher.

Alrec remains capable of fighting.

Valencia gives Apollo a little smile, though her cheeks burn a little at the tease. "How are you Master Apollo. Apologies, I though you knew each other. Please, sit. What wil you be drinking this night?" she smiles once more as the banter on the sand gets sharper and the crowds cheering louder. Dark eyes find the two forms fighting there and she watches intently for a time. "Impressive," she says with a lift of a brow, her usual exuberance tempered for now.

Petal look over to Caspian, nodding in response to his words. "Okay, I will keep that in mind, GrandMaster Caspian." She watches the fight in progress, seemingly curious about such. She then smiles warmly to Valencia.

The slight widening of the Whisper's eyes suggests Scipio's, for a moment, surprised by Valencia's offer. He's too well-schooled to let it show for long, though, offering a tiny smile. "Very generous of you, Your Highness, but wholly unnecessary. Thank you." He nods towards Apollo, "Ah, Master Apollo. Pleased to meet a leatherworker. I find the craft fascinating but sadly have no talent for it, myself." He gestures to a chair, as if to invite the other man, and indeed, Valencia, to seat themselves first, gaze avidly darting to the battle-at-hand.

A smirk forms on Alrec's face at the response from his opponent as he dances at the end of Harlex's reach. A wrong step catches him off guard and he steps into the man's attack, taking a serious blow. Alrec spins about, "Mother of..." and straightens himself, continuing to probe Harlex's attack.

Scipio has joined the ringside great table.

There's a blow that does actually land at one point, but its quite literally smacked aside with the proper turn of his vambraces. Harlex moves in, landing that serious blow with a swift strike to the side, and seems quite focused. His breathing no less labored then when they began.

Petal's greeting gets a warm and bright smile, the little southern princess seeming happy to see the woman. "Good evening, Mistress Petal. Congratulations on your recent appointment as Farwatch's Minister of Agriculture. I'm sure you will be most excellent. They are so lucky to have you," she nods as sh turns back to smile up at Scipio and Apollo once more. "Not at all. My Hart is yours. What you wish is our command if we might please," she smile once mre, their eyes turning back to the fight once more. She gasps as Alrec falters.

Petal look sover to Valencia. "Thank you. I very much look forward to growing lots and lot of bananas and chocolate for them. They found such plants on their land." She says.

Apollo has joined the ringside great table.

Scipio actually glances away from the fight -- with a wince -- at something Valencia says, following her gaze as she greets -- and congratulates -- Petal. A thoughtful look is given the woman, a slight nod, but no attempt to move in that direction, the Whisper instead nursing his drink as his gaze goes back to the fight.

Petal smiles over to Scipio. "I am Petal of the Tangled Skein." She says, intruding herself to the Whisper. She speaks with the heavy accent of a Northern Shav. She has a smile for Prisila as well.

Harlex is a menace to catch, moving aside from that scimitar's arcs with such a fluid grace it was like fighting your own shadow. But a shadow that could, you know, hit back. Hard. The swordsman clad in blackened armor decides, however, he's had enough. There's a backward step, evading another slash, before he comes back in--the claws of his free hand unfurling to slash at the sword in Alrec's hand. Knocking it aside with a spray of sparks to open him up to a downward stroke that smashes it the blunt side of that curved blade like an anvil crashing into the shoulder. Enough to crumble the man down to the ground.

There might have been the slightest twitch of a smile on Ian's face when Harlex deals that nasty hit to Alrec, and the admiral crumples. Or maybe it was a facial tic.

There is a fight to keep Harlex at bay, swinging and swinging, wasting his energy but the fight does not last that long. Before Alrec could switch into a defensive stance, Harlex comes down on him like an avalanche and he is forced face first to the ground, getting a mouthful of sand.

"Minister to Farwatch -- so I hear," Scipio gives another nod to Petal, and a tiny smile. "The Baron and Baroness are both wonderful people, with great plans for their people. They are lucky to have you," he murmurs. "Whisper Scipio," he adds in introduction.

The little vixen wince as Alrec eats sand and she cries out along with the crowd. "Gods," she whispers her eyes widening. "I see that the man is most formidable indeed. What a delight to see. If his charm is a sharp as his skills with a weapon... I suppose we shall find out," she smiles playfully, offering a wink Petals way.

Santino arrives, delivering a message to Alrec before departing.

Petal peeks over to Scipio, smiling to him once again. "It is nice to meet you and thank you. I think they are good people as well. I'm a gardener and a seamstress primarily." She says. She then smiles once again to Valencia.

A fancy man steps over Alrec, delivering him a letter. Well, more like dropping one on the downed pirate who stans up after a moment of catching his breath. He sits up on the bench, raising his hand to Harlex in surrender before shifting his attention to the letter to read it. After a brief look, Alrec secures the mail in his belongings and looks up to Harlex, studying him momentarily.

At the conclusion of the bout Prisila rises to her feet and gives a look to Ian before offering a departing smile. She sets off down the stairs, stops at the edge of the arena with her retinue. "You fought well Admiral. It just wasn't your day today." A smirk is flashed to him before her oceanic colored gaze settles upon Harlex. "You've proven your mettle sellsword. I look forward to doing business with you." To everyone else she gives a cool albeit polite nod and sweeps out.

9 Crimson Blades Private, 1 Crimson Blades Lieutenant leave, following Prisila.

Scipio goes remarkably silent as the fight comes to an abrupt end, sympathetic gaze on the stranger eating sand at the bottom. After a moment, he exhales, and takes a slow, deliberate sip from his drink. "I'm sure of heard of your work before," he manages to pick up the thread of conversation, gamely, with Petal after a moment.

Harlex sheathes his weapon with a smooth gesture. The jaw of his helmet risen to reveal his features. He looks down at Alrec for a moment and offers him a nod before he removes that bestial cover completely. All that energetic darkness sizzles like smoke at the wick of a candle. He's back to being--cold. A glance is tossed Prisila's way on her departure with some interest and then he looks to Valencia and bows his head.

Valencia rises to cheer the combatants will full force, "Bravo!!! Bravo! Well fought, gentlemen!" the little vixen calls. Turning, she looks up to the rafters calling out, "Master Waldemai, would you care for a wager on the next match?"

Ian says something to Caspian in a low voice. Something long, although with a bit of a staccato beat. Short sentences, but a lot of them. Then he motions a waiter over and murmurs to him, nodding in Harlex's direction.

Caspian gives a nod to Ian, rising to his feet as he smiles to him and Petal, telling them, "I'll be back after I kick some sellsword ass." And then he steps over to the sands, hopping into the sands. There, he calls out to the crowd, "Are you ready for a show?! Lets kick this party up a knotch with a real good fight!" He calls out, drawing his knife and raises it to the ceiling!

Caspian wields First Blood, curved knife in a vague S shape.

Harlex wields Memento, a curved and funereal sword.

Waldemai calls down, "I am always ready for a wager on anything, your highness. Who's fighting?"

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

Petal smiles to Caspian. "Oh, okay and well kick ass, yay, Caspian Grand Master!" She cheers.

Harlex raises to his hand to snap close the helmet once more as Caspian joins the ring. Then he turns to face the Grandmaster, his sword drawn cleanly from the wooden scabbard with a sharp and unblemished glint.

Waldemai adds, "And a mug of red wine, a Saik if you have one, for Lady Lethe." He is much better suited to shouting from the rafters.

"Captian Harlex Valtyr and Missere Grandmaster Caspian Wild! What is your wager, if Master Apollo does not take it, I will!" Valencia calls out good naturedly.

Alrec draws on his cloak, seeing a familiar man return to him with another letter for him to read. He stands up and walks out to the general seating to converse with this messenger.

Apollo watches as the combat begins, "I'm going to put, say. Twenty thousand on Captain Harlex winning."

Santino arrives, delivering a message to Alrec before departing.

Waldemai's eyes bug out. "Twenty? Can't cover that, I'm afraid." He counts the coins in his pouch. "I'll take four thousand of that action if someone wants to pick up the rest."

Valenciaraises a brow and looks at Apollo with a more focused eye. "You are very confident, missere. I must say I am so very curious as to what makes you so? Will you stand at 4,000, then?"

"Well fought," Scipio adds, a moment after he finds his voice, before watching the next fighter step in. He doesn't seem inclined to any betting, though he is listening closely.

Apollo laughs, "It's less confidence and more that I want to bet an amount that matters, your highness." He answers Valencia cheerfully. "Anything less and I'd barely notice loss or gain, where's the fun in betting small? If no-one's willing to match I'll go down to whatever can be matched, however" He glances towards Scipio, "Who do you think will win?"

Alrec walks over to the bar, getting himself a drink as the fight continues. He stands up and goes over the windows, to look out at the weather.

Valencia nods to Theodoric, their playful bet made. "You best win my my wine, Captain Harlex or I shall be very disappointed," she calls out with a grin. The little vixen notices Alrec seems preoccupied and she excuses herself to speak with him. "I shall return," she promises.

"I'm afraid I have little skill in the battlefield -- that was more my siblings' bent," Scipio answers Apollo, though his gaze follows the fight closely. "They both seem well matched and skilled," he adds.

Alrec finishes his letter, sending the message away. "Good luck." He says, motioning to the strange snow and allows his gaze to split between the fight and the weather outside, looking to see when it will clear. Alrec takes a sip and looks towards the fight. He smiles to Valencia as she approaches, "Yes of course. Got the crap beaten out of me but that just means I need to train harder."

Santino arrives, delivering a message to Alrec before departing.

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

Valencia smiles at this, her eyes dropping and then lifting again, her expression sweet and perhaps a little amused. "You have a champion's heart if that is what you feel. You fought well, tough. He is a one of the best I have seen, especially to best you, sir. I seem to recall a certain Admiral who was rather unstoppable in my Hart in recent past," she nods warmly. "Come, please join us. Your company is always welcome."

Harlex checked stamina, willpower + survival at difficulty 1, rolling 64 higher.

Harlex remains capable of fighting.

Harlex checked stamina, willpower + survival at difficulty 29, rolling 55 higher.

Harlex remains capable of fighting.

Harlex checked stamina, willpower + survival at difficulty 31, rolling 83 higher.

Harlex remains capable of fighting.

Caspian checked stamina, willpower + survival at difficulty 1, rolling 71 higher.

Caspian remains capable of fighting.

Harlex checked stamina, willpower + survival at difficulty 34, rolling 36 higher.

Harlex remains capable of fighting.

Harlex checked stamina, willpower + survival at difficulty 37, rolling 57 higher.

Harlex remains capable of fighting.

Caspian checked stamina, willpower + survival at difficulty 6, rolling 51 higher.

Caspian remains capable of fighting.

Caspian checked stamina, willpower + survival at difficulty 34, rolling 57 higher.

Caspian remains capable of fighting.

Caspian checked stamina, willpower + survival at difficulty 44, rolling 43 higher.

Caspian remains capable of fighting.

Harlex checked stamina, willpower + survival at difficulty 57, rolling 21 higher.

Harlex remains capable of fighting.

Caspian checked stamina, willpower + survival at difficulty 57, rolling 10 higher.

Caspian remains capable of fighting.

Harlex checked stamina, willpower + survival at difficulty 68, rolling 37 higher.

Harlex remains capable of fighting.

Alrec chuckles, nodding to her, "Yeah, it was a bloody fight. Taught me a thing or two." He says to Valencia, looking away from her to the brutal fight playing out before them. "Wow."

Harlex has rolled a critical success!
Harlex checked stamina, willpower + survival at difficulty 95, rolling 63 higher.

Harlex remains capable of fighting.

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

Harlex checked stamina, willpower + survival at difficulty 138, rolling 45 lower.

Harlex checked stamina, willpower + survival at difficulty 90, rolling 24 higher.

Harlex remains alive, but close to death.

Harlex is incapacitated and falls unconscious.

Waldemai cheers the fighters. "Well done! Excellent show! All glory to Gloria!"

Lethe has left the upper rafters.

Apollo applauds the fighters cheerfully. "So I believe I owe some money. Well done, grandmaster Wild." He doesn't seem bothered by the loss at all.

The crowd goes wild! Rising to their feet and roaring till the beams in the arena shake with their excitement. The little vixen turns to the crowd's cheering and her eyes widen at the battle below on the sands, her breath taken she falls silent as she watches the men meet and clash only to meet again. The fight is terrible and beautiful in its way as they reel and try to best each other. The little vixen is awed by the skills displayed.

Scipio forgets all about his drink for a good, long moment -- transfixed by the fight-in-progress. Only when it's done does he seem to breathe again. "Well done, to both of you," he stands to join the crowd in applauding the two combatants.

Welcome to a true slog of a fight. The fast Harlex in steel armor verses the even faster Caspian in his bear leather. And oh boy is it a long fight. Caspian throughout the fight focuse on defense, only going in for shots in the gaps of Harlex's armor, most of them miss. He circles the man, always trying to keep moving, be a hard target to hit.

Harlex starts off with a good shot that cuts into him, the man letting out a hiss of pain, though he slowly starts to wear the man down with grazing cuts into the places where his armor doesn't cover. But for a long while there, nether of them get in any shots. Until Caspian gets in two lucky blows that turns the tide of the battle, and makes Caspian press the attack. All the while, they are both getting tired...but Harlex more so, giving Caspian that slight edge he needs to land some blows on Harlex, tired swipes of his knife that cut into the man until he is no longer able to fight!

Ian leans forward, elbows on knees, hands loosely clasped, and watches the fight in total silence. His electric blue eyes move as fast as the men in the ring, taking in details. The angle of a sword. A shift of weight. The position of a foot. The longer the fight goes, the more intent he seems to get. By the end, the rest of the arena might as well not exist anymore.

Valencia has left the ringside great table.

1 Ulbran Thug leaves, following Valencia.

It was a slog. Fast, furious flurries of blades. The type of bout only truly masterful combatants could display. Constantly in motion, grueling on to the point of exhaustion beyond exhaustion. Clashing and scraping to the very last with high flying maneuvers and deadly glaring slashes of sword and knife. In the end, it's that final swift blow from the Grandmaster which knocks Harlex down to the sands. He plants his sword in the sand, catching his breath, moving to his feet and discarding his helmet for air. His once cold, remorseless gaze is shining with life. He looks to Caspian with a respectful nod.

1 Ulbran Thug arrives, following Valencia.

Caspian falls into the sands soon after Harlex does, sitting on his ass, heaving breaths as he looks across to Harlex, giving him a bright grin and a nod. "Good...fight," he says, giving him a thumbs up. "That...was..one...show..." and then he falls backwards, laying on his back and staring up to the ceiling, everything taken out of him from that fight.

Ian takes a breath when the fighters fall, one after the other. He straightens up.

The cheering dies down a bit and drinks are raised, praises offered. Valencia turns to Theodoric and smiles, "I do believe you have own, my missere. Shall we see to your payment after our event?" she smiles playfully, a nod to both Caspian and Harlex offered for the display on the sands. "I think this may call for another drink," she smiles to Alrec. "Come, join us when you wish," she coaxes as she returns to gracefully take her seat next to Theodoric once more.

Tugging laborously out of a crimson cloak wrapped about her neck and lower-half of her face, Carmen finally pulls off her helm and immediately looks down to the ring, corner of her mouth quirking. She walks distractedly for the 'sip' portion of the Sip'n Spar.

Alrec finishes his drink, writing a quick message to a different messenger. He looks up and says to Valencia, "I came to show my support. Great fighting as always." Alrec smiles at her, "The commoner's council business has messengers coming and going, and it's getting late." He says to Valencia.

Carmen has joined the bar.

Waldemai accepts a pouch full of coins up in the rafters. "Thanks a bunch," he calls, and holds up his bucket. "More ale!"

Scipio stands, after he's drained the last of his drink. Seemingly speechless, he takes a moment to clear his throat. "I ought to -- it was a great showing. Thank you for hosting, Your Highness," he gives a bow to Valencia. "Good evening," is murmured to Apollo and the others nearby, as he departs.

Mongoose arrives, following Joscelin.

Scipio has left the ringside great table.

"Of course, admiral. Good luck in your election," Valencia offers warmly back, offering him a delicate hand as he decided to depart. "Thank you for coming, Missere Scipio. Most charmed indeed."


Joscelin hasn't been to the Golden Hart in ages, and she arrives with a grin, unbuttoning her beautiful coat to reveal a lapis blue, gorgeous backless dress that's clearly a Morrighan Redrain original. Black curls radiate around her head and bounce as she looks about, waving to those she knows and casting about for a decent place to sit.

Alrec reaches for her hand, bringing gently to his lips. "A pleasure as always." And he bows politely to her. His gaze looks over to the other patrons, whom he nods to respectfully as he gathers his belongings, protecting himself before venturing out.

Eventually, Caspian has to pull himself off the ground, heaving breaths as he does so, and stumbles his way back to the crowd, covered in dust and sweat as he moves back over to the table he was at to sit down, smiling to Petal and Ian. "Enjoy the fight?"

Alrec has left the ring of valor.

Harlex slowly gets to his feet. The brutality of the fight seemingly to spring life into him. He tucks his bestial helm beneath his arm. "Think a drink sounds mighty fine after that." He heads to the bar, another nod to Caspian. "You really are good. Always a pleasure. But we're one for one now. Lookin forward to the finale." Its a friendly good natured challenge. When he reaches the bar, it seems his drink is paid for in advance by someone. He likes this event already. "Lieutenant," he says to Carmen.

Harlex has left the ring of valor.

Harlex has joined the bar.

Caspian flashes a grin over to Harlex, nodding his head to him as he says, "Maybe next time we'll have a rematch." And then he's calling over a server to have some ale brought to him, which he begins to gulp down.

Leaning into the bar, Carmen taps a few long fingers against the wood and waits for a drink that is heartily welcomed. Carmen tosses back a mouthful and then grins, wearily, at Harlex. "Captain Valtyr. I missed the show. How'd it go?"

A warm nod is offered to Carmen as she arrives and moves to the bar as a pair of buxom barmaids heed Waldemai's call for ale and scale the ladder pitcher in hand with remarkable ease. Valencia smiles at this and then upon her guests, her expression so very pleased.

Harlex seems to make a face at Carmen. "Went fine. Did alright." He sets his bestial helm on the bar. The thing looks like a severed wolf's head made of metal. A little more sinister than a wolf, but who's asking. "You feelin alright?" He takes a drink, deeply, to cool his throat with fine alcohol. That's how that works, right?

Adele, a graceful greyhound arrives, delivering a message to Joscelin before departing.

Carmen snorts, glancing back over her shoulder to where Alrec had recently departed and taking another swig of wonderful, wonderful liquor. She blinks, noticing Joscelin, and calls out, "Joscelin! Sip'n Spar, not Sip'n Knock-Everyone-Dead." Back to Harlex, Carmen flashes him a withering look. "Absolutely gods awful day, but I'm fine. Mutual of ours got sick and so did a good chunk of the city while they were at it."

Valencia has joined the ringside great table.

Valencia has left the ringside great table.

Valencia has joined the ringside great table.


Joscelin moves through the crowd to the bar, intent on ordering a drink. She spots not one but several people she recognizes, nudging Carmen harmlessly with her shoulder as she leans against the counter, flagging down the bartender and quietly putting in her order. She turns to face the room and people watch, her smile bright; she's happy to be out and about, doing nothing that involves her usual work. "Pssh, I wish," she answers Carmen with a laugh. "My whole life is art, I enjoy wearing it as well. But thank you for the compliment; you're not obligated to such things, patron or not." Golden eyes sparkle with mischief, her drink brought, and she raises her glass to her protege.

"It was certainly a show," Ian allows to Caspian, with a nod of his head. "I know how dangerous he is."

A bright smile is offered Joscelin's way as she is spied, her dress bringing a brighter smile to the little princess' eyes. "My dear Guildmaster Joscelin Arterius, your dress is so lovely. You look beautiful," Valencia smiles with a warm nod of approval. "I'm glad to see you have returned to my Hart. Please join the fun. You will enjoy drink, yes?"

Harlex rests his claws on the bar top. His black hair is touched with sweat. He has that general male odor of hard labor. But as one whisky glass empties, a refill is close behind. "Joscelin," he says steadily with a nod to the Guildmistress. He seems to agree with Valencia, lifting his glass a bit for her to join Carmen and he for something sharp and coppery and bad for the liver.

Joscelin has joined the bar.

Cordially, Carmen taps her glass to Joscelin's. Carmen, inordinately tall, looms alongside Joscelin, even as she slouches against the bar. "Princess is right. No special reason?" she asks of Joscelin. To Harlex, she only cracks a brief grin.

Waldemai climbs down from the rafters. "Off to brave this mucky snow," he says. "Thanks for everything, your highness." Good thing he's got a hat!

Waldemai has left the upper rafters.

Caspian leans back in his seat, wiping some sweat from his brow. He lifts his mug of ale to Waldemai, calling out to him, "Thank you for believing in me! You betted on me, right? Or was that Apollo, I was too busy dodging a sword to tell!"


Joscelin winks at Princess Valencia, giving a small bow to the hostess. "I'm indulging my Lycene half this evening, your highness, the baby safe at home with family. I needed a walk-about," she chuckles. "My thanks, it's good to be here after many, many months. It's as lovely as I remember." To Harlex, she grins. "Messere Valtyr." She raises her glass to him as well. "Nice pants." At Carmen, she cackles and shakes her head. "Freedom. Good enough reason?" She snickers, takes a sip of her drink. "Ah," she sighs. "I've missed this."

Caspian has left the corner table.

A cheerful wave is offered to one of the Hart's most loyal an honored patrons and Valencia smile's once more. Resting a little more heavily in her seat as the jovial crowd mixes and mingles. Joscelin's bow is returned with warm grace and the little princess smiles again, "Well, I am so very glad that you found your way to my Hart, mistress. How is the wee one? It must be so wonderful to have a child. I'm so very happy for you," she nods gently as the Guildmaster returns to speaking to her friends. The little vixen settles back once more and draws in a ver deep breath, letting it out slowly.

Joscelin takes a moment to lean in Valencia's direction, her words lost to the crowd as she answers the pretty vixen's thoughtful inquiry.

Valencia is overheard praising Lucita: So brave, so good and such a good friend. I am honoured of her friendship.

The little vixen smiles warmly and quietly replies a look of fond understanding finding face as they speak. Valencia turns to watch the the conversations flow and unfurl with a quiet smile, her gaze drifting her and there to that what catches her eye.

Chatting quietly with Joscelin and Harlex at the bar, Carmen groans loudly and buries her head into her arms on the bar.

The matches concluded and the drinks begin to flow in earnest. Most are offered on the house to the fighters and their guests. Valenica rises and gives a little stretch, her brows lifting in worry to Carmen's noticeable groan. "Are you quite alright, my lady?" the little raven haired princess asks with quick concern. "May I call one of our mercies for you?"

Chase, a Silent Reflection in grey hooded robes, 1 Templar Knight guards arrive, following Vayne.

Flinching and straightening, Carmen turns to address Valencia with an easy shake of her head. "No. Thank you. I'm a medic, your Highness, and an idiot. Not sick." Clearing her throat, Carmen adds gamely, "You're kind to offer, though. It's a good thing to have this event today."


Sipping from her glass, Joscelin's bare shoulders shake as she struggles not to laugh outright, dark curls bouncing as she shakes her head a moment later at Carmen, patting the woman's back amiably.

Ian has settled in with a drink, sipping at it. Maybe he's staying here to nurse said drink to the bitter end. Maybe he's trying to wait out the green snow.

Valencia nods with a little wince for the lady's trouble, but does not press, leaving her to the able care of Joscelin. Lord Ian is next on her list to see to. "Lord Ian, are you quite well? Oh, I should say that Prince Galen sends his regards. He was visiting the other night. I suspect he was hoping to catch you and Lady Zoey," she informs with a smile. "

Carmen slants a disgruntled look down to Joscelin, corner of her mouth quirking, as she leans back into the bar, slouching for what good it does the height difference between her and the pair with her. Twisting her drink, Carmen takes another long, miserable gulp.

"Nice pants?" Harlex says and looks down at his trousers. He seems to think on it for a bit and finishes his whisky, glass set upside down on the bar top. "I ought to be on my way." He offers the bar patrons a slight smirk and takes his bestial helm up, tucking it under arm. He offers Valencia a deep nod of his head, "Much obliged for the sport, darlin. I may stop by again."

Ian nods a greeting to Valencia when she comes to join him. "It's good that he's back in town." He sips his drink. "Zoey and I will be moving to the Kay, soon. As soon as she gets everything settled to her liking in our room there. She's due in a couple of months."

Apollo is overheard praising Kael.

Vayne steps into the Arena observation deck and nods politely to those he knows or recognises, or the people who might greet him first. The tabard does tend to generate recognition. He makes his way toward the bar, ordering an Oathlands whiskey and taking in the sights and sounds.

"I'm so very glad you are so soon to be an even larger family, my lord. Your company and presence in my Hart will be terribly missed. I must say, I am very sad to see you go," Valencia offers back with a gentle smile, her eyes betraying a certain sadness at the parting. "It has been a lovely time and I thank you for staying with us for so long."

Joscelin is seated at the bar with Carmen and a few others, scarred back bare in a lapis-blue dress of fine make. She raises her glass to Harlex, nodding soberly; yes. Nice pants. To Vayne as he approaches, Josie's eyes flick to the tabard, then to the pewter bracelet on her wrist. Her brow furrows, thinking she might recognize the Crafter who made it, offering the Archlector a respectful nod and a murmured greeting.

Ian gives Valencia a brief quirk of a dry smile. "I expect I'll still have cause to stay here from time to time." Like tonight, if the green snow doesn't stop falling.

Harlex moves to leave the Hart. On his way, he offers a very respectful bow of his head to Vayne. Then he's gone.

Valencia bows her head, her smile faint but warm. "My lord, you will always be welcome here. Always," the little vixen affirms with a little breath, the news apparently unexpected. "I suppose I shall have to find new tenants," she smile nearly playfully.

Harlex has left the bar.

Dolmen, a Crimson Agent leaves, following Harlex.

Petal has left the corner table.

Unable to help herself, Carmen cracks a grin into her glass of whiskey with Harlex's departure. She looks across to Vayne, quizzical and then with pleased recognition, and joins the others in their polite nods and greetings.

Ian shakes his head. "I can't think that it'd be that hard to do. I think most people just don't know it's an option."

Vayne has joined the ringside table.

Distracted, the little vixen does not seem to notice the Archlector's arrival, but when she does a bright and beautiful smile finds her face. "My dearest Blessed! I am so happy to see you," she calls quietly. "What has kept you from my Hart, sir? You have been missed. May I introduce Missere Theodoric and Master Apollo. I believe you know Lord Ian and the ladies," she smiles to Joscelin and Carmen warmly.

Vayne has left the ringside table.

Vayne has joined the bar.

Ian nods a respectful greeting. "Archlector."

Vayne smiles at Valencia's greeting and says, "Nothing more pressing than service to Tehom, Princess. So, consider that it takes my oaths to the gods to keep me from the Hart. And I've met Master Theodoric before. And Master Apollo as well - he's a true Oathlander, in whom there is no deceit." He waves to everyone else so that no one is missed and stuff.

Dumpling, an unflappable palomino mare arrives, following Kaldur.

Valencia nods to Vayne. "Well, missere, I would never ask my protege to forgo his duty to the gods. It would not look well on me," she offers with a bow. "I am just glad to see you." With that the little vixen rises from her seat and smiles. "I think I need some fresh air. If you will pardon me. Please stay on. Drinks are on the house!"

Vayne is overheard praising Valencia: A more gracious hostess is night impossible to find.