1 Iron Guardsmen, 2 Iron Guardsmen arrive, following Calaudrin.

Dash the Guard Corgi, 1 Iron Guardsmen leave, following Silas.


Serafine walks in, helmet balanced on her hip and held with the inside of her elbow, black hair streaming down the back of her cuirass, glad in her usual leather-and-mail. There's a crown of flowers on her head and a bright-eyed look to her face, and she makes her way to the Fighting Grounds at a leisurely pace.

Dash the Guard Corgi, 1 Iron Guardsmen arrive, following Silas.

Dash the Guard Corgi have been dismissed.

Griza have been dismissed.

1 Iron Guardsmen have been dismissed.

    The Training Center fighting area has been cleared of abandoned training weaponry and equipment and the stands have been adequately cleaned in anticipation of the upcoming 'tournament'. The Lord Commander sits on the front bench, scroll and quill in hand, as he awaits the arrival of the competitors.

the tall Malvici approaches the ring, a steel greatsword sheathed on his back. He wore leather armor as was the condition of the tourney. Artorius Malvici approached lightly, a soft smile to his features. He was excited to battle. When he arrived, he bowed, noting and acknowledging that he was accepted to participate, and honoring the hosts with his bow. He stood off to the side as he awaited the others.

Aneka, Meeka arrive, following Merek.

Magpie Grayhope wanders into the training center, hands casually tucked into pockets. "Can anyone join?" He'll ask of the nearest person, eying the folks gathered curiously.

Sparte is there without his helmet, looking around a bit uncertainly. He is all about these sorts of things, but his attention is split between this and other things. With a siege on, can't imagine why.

Silas looks up from his perch, at Magpie, with a hint of curiosity. "Sure, we're open for sign ups until the first match."

    Arriving next is the pair of Telmars. Ansel, leading his sister companionably by the arm, is clad in his usual white and crimson, swords sheathed at his left hip and right shoulder. A polite nod is offered to the group as he comes in, making his way towards Silas, to indicate his intention to participate by raising his hand when the Iron Guard Commander looks around for participants. The elder Telmar looks sidelong to his sister, offering a smile as he brings her over towards the group. "Planning on taking first place today?" he asks.


Serafine pauses next to Silas. "Lord-commander," she greets him. "You going to join us today?" she asks with a rakish grin.

Merek steps into the Training Center, and then flips his cloak back, while he holds up his hands, "COUNT ME IN!" he exclaims, while he sidles over to Silas, "Do I need paperwork? Or are these moves enough to sign my name by sheer proximity?" He flexes, and then makes a few sounds, before he then states, "But seriously, I am here to participate, in the name of the Iron Guard, for Gloria's great honor."

Anyone that knows the scent and is standing close enough to Magpie will pick up on the smell of haze clinging to him, but he's smiling and gives Silas a friendly nod. "Excellent. Thanks. Put me down. Magpie Grayhope. I'm feeling very lucky tonight and want to see just where I stand with all these fancy trained guards." He says in a musing tone, stretching his arms behind his head. "Is my cousin here? Thena? Don't see her... "

Harper tromps in, steel armor clattering, and helmet tucked under her arm. She's here to observe. Mostly. She totally brought refreshments with her, though, as evidenced by the little clay jug of corn liquor and and the waxed paper cone of honeyed nuts in her other hand. She laughs at herself, as she takes a seat on the benches, "Nuts."

Dulcinea laughs, leaning up to kiss her brother on the cheek. "No, I'm planning on YOU taking first place today. Sadly, the rules didn't say I could shoot anyone in the face. So I will merely be a spectator... and your cheering section." She opens her purse and hmms over the contents. "Here! Wear pretty earrings as my favor."

Dulcinea gets an elegant pair of bronze aquamarine earrings from A simple, drawstring purse of silk.

Artorius smiled to Dulcinea as she entered with her brother. He bowed when she arrived, smiling to his friend.

    Ansel gives a chuckle to his sister, turning in the direction of the spectator seating, arrayed around the fighting area. He reaches to take the offered earrings with a brotherly grin, glancing down at his armor, as though deciding how exactly he's going to -wear- the offered favor. Clipping to the breastplate? No, that won't quite work... On his helm? Not quite... He purses his lips, before reaching to tuck them securely into his pocket. There. "We'll have to see about finding you an archery tournament next time around," promises her brother. "I'm sure Tristram and Fiachra would gladly participate with you," he says.

Silas chuckles at Merek. "Sure, Merek, you're in." He glances up to Serafine, then to the list of names he's penned already. "Looks like we have an even number, so unless we have a last minute entry, probably not." A nod is given to Magpie, the lord commander canting his head. "Hey, if a knife fighter wins, all power to them. I'll be thoroughly impressed."

Dulcinea hrmphs at Artorius and looks pointedly away. "Also, you should break Lord Artorius's nose for calling me selfish in the white journals," she tells Ansel. "But only if you get a chance to do so in the tournament. I shouldn't want a brawl. It would be unseemly."

Dulcinea pauses. "Perhaps I WILL shoot someone in the face after all. That will be soothing. Have them wait for me?"

Artorius smiled a slight little bit "I merely commented on what you yourself had admitted." he laughs a little, showing her the favor she had given him "If you wish, I will return this to you, for clearly I have angered you. I apologize."

Dulcinea dashes

Harper perks up, looking up and over at - blahblah break a Lord's nose blahblah. She takes a swig from her jug, munches a couple of nuts, and sets down her helm in order to stick her hand up into the air. "If she needs someone what to like break a nose in regard to honor, I'd be game. Ain't never had that honor before." Harper grins toothily at Artorius.

Magpie chuckles to Silas, "That would make both of us, but we'll see how it goes." Of course, the man has no armor either, but hopefully no one will be too rough on the commoner. He wanders over to where some of the other participants are gathered, taking in their equipment. "If I get knocked out or stabbed or something, do I at least get some medical attention?"

    Ansel arches a dark brow a bit, canting his head to his sister as he considers for a moment or two. "I -cannot- imagine why the good Malvici lord would -ever- describe you in such a way, sister," he comments back, with a grin to his younger sibling. The Sword looks over in Artorius' direction when the man looks in the direction of the two Telmars. "And there was a favor involved?" he asks, looking back to Dulcinea, expression much more curious now.

Fiora slips into the training center, dressed for a fight and looking fresh off the Walls with the rubicund bow slung over her shoulder. She offers a faint nod towards Artorius but keeps the hood tugged low as she makees her way towards Silas. Giving the man a short bow, she leans in to murmur, "Fiora Malvici. I do hope we're not allowing random spectators tonight? Last night was... er, enough surprise for awhile." She nods to the list and offers, "I would like to join the competition, if you do not mind my bow being added to the mix."

Dulcinea races back in with her bow and leathers -- she carries a TARDIS in her little purse -- just in time to catch Ansel's comment. She frowns. "Don't SMILE when someone casts aspersions on your little sister, Ansel. Break. Faces."

Dulcinea peers around. "Where do I register?" She runs over to Silas.

Artorius looked at Ansel at the ready, looking then to Dulcinea "It appears I have won her wrath."


Serafine looks amused, walking from Silas to the slowly growing group of competitors. The Velenosan Knight-Princess rolls her shoulders and unsheathes her blade, going through a quick serious of forms and circles, working on her focus, grounding her head to get it into the competition. She nods to the others, grinning, as she makes eye-contact with each.

"Aye, the Mercies are on standby, per usual. No dying in the Training Center," Silas replies to Magpie. He inclines his head towards Fiora and nods, his eyes lighting up in recogniition. The archer from Hana's shop! "I don't mind at all. You shoot well! But we will have spectators." He grins and looks towards Harper. "But they're friendlier than the last." He glances to Dulcinea. "Ah, two archers! Sure, you can join. That will close out the bracket. Let me figure out who fights who..." And he gets to scribbling.

    Ansel chuckles quietly, pointing his sister over in the direction of Silas. "Of course, Dulcie," he says, before looking back to Artorius once more. "I'm afraid so, my lord," he comments, a touch wryly, though there's a polite dip of his head to the statement.

Merek moves towards the circle and waits for the announcements, while he pulls his cloak to him. He waves at Serafine, and Fiora randomly, then he takes a moment to adjust his glassed visor over his face.

Merek wields Nightsong, the metallic rubicund sword with a blackened hilt.

Sparte scratches at his hair, furrowing his painted on brow at Silas thoughtfully before looking out at the others who've come to participate. Whatever his thoughts, he isn't talkative for now.

Sparte wields a massive, two handed Claymore with quatrefoil guards.

Merek wields Nox'Dreki, a sleek black steel sword made in a Eurusian fashion, with a quartz-pommel on the silvered knuckle-bow full guard hilt, and sides lined in smooth silver, with one edge upon it.

Artorius smiled softly to Ansel, bowing his head in return.

Dulcinea points at Artorius. "And YOU will continue wearing that favor because -- as I told you -- you're wearing it for all who fight. Not simply yourself. But yes. You should now consider that you wear it for everyone BUT you." Hrmph. Did she mention hrmph?

Artorius smiled faintly to Dulcinea all while she made her pointed remarks. She had a fire in her didn't she? He merely bowed his head without a word in retort. Smiling warmly.

%gSilas clears his throat and peers up from his scroll. "First match, Lady Fiora versus Lady Dulcinea. Take your places at the Fighting Area. Remember, steel and leather equipment only!"

Dulcinea wields A beautifully made and elaborately carved horseman's bow.

Silas clears his throat and peers up from his scroll. "First match, Lady Fiora versus Lady Dulcinea. Take your places at the Fighting Area. Remember, steel and leather equipment only!"

Fiora moves to join her cousin, glancing up at him with a soft chuckle, "Making friends and winning hearts, I see. Will I need to avenge *your* honor, dear cousin?" Unshouldering her bow, she tests the draw. Rolling her shoulders, she repositions her quiver to her hip. Stretching out a little, limbering up for the upcoming competition.

"Mostly friendlier than the last," Harper insists "When Boss looks m'way as though he's making th' point to say that I'm to behave." She swigs, "Lookit. Sittin and drinking. Good behavior. No silk insults. No dirty jokes even though they ain't appropos, but they're always funny."

Serafine has left the fighting grounds.

Serafine has joined the Benches.

Fiora has joined the fighting grounds.

Merek has joined the fighting grounds.

Serafine gets out of the way, plopping on a bench and crossing her ankles, applauding Fiora because, well, she's a Velenosan and Lycenes ought to support each other.

Merek sits on the edge, where surely no idle arrows will strike him, as he watches as close as he can.

Dulcinea blinks. "Oh, dear. Me already? Gloria have mercy and spare my face..." SIGH. She smiles brightly at Fiora. "Hello! Gloria smile on you!"

Artorius chuckled a little at Fiora "You know it. Just like old times. Good luck my dear cousin." he smiled warmly to Fiora

Fiora wields a pitch black longbow with rough-out leather grip.

    Ansel gives a two-fingered whistle as his sister's name is called to the center area first.

Artorius cheers "Good luck the both of you!"

Fiora takes serious damage.

Fiora takes moderate damage.

Mariah, a nanny arrives, following Tikva.

Tikva has joined the Benches.

Harper has joined the Benches.

Fiora takes minor damage.

Fiora takes moderate damage.

Tikva wanders into the event and strolls up and over to the benches, finding herself a perch. She props her elbows on her knees and cradles her cheeks in her hands, turning thoughtful blue eyes down across the combatants.

Silas watches the archers face off against each other with obvious interest. Mostly because he hasn't seen it very often. He winces when it appears Dulcinea has the clear advantage, though Fiora was still holding up. When Tikva approaches the stands to spectate he offers a friendly smile and nod.

It's not exactly what you'd call a glorious victory. Dulcinea's dodges and deflections consist mostly of "EEK!" and "OH DEAR!" and mutters of, "I think I broke a nail..." Frown frown frown. Then -- oh, right! Shooting. However, she draws strong and looses with precision, displaying such grace and focus in attack that one might SUSPECT her squeaks and flinches are all mummery. In the end, Dulcinea Telmar is winded, but has not a scratch. She frowns at Fiora's state and calls, "A healer, please?"

Fiora is already the cagey sort, so facing an opponent of unknown skill has her a little hesitant. The hesitation costs her dearly in the numerous hits she takes as her own either tend to fly wide or wing harmlessly off Dulcinea's armor. At the end of the round, however, Fiora shakes her head at Dulcinea. "Continue, milady. Fight to the finish, I can guarantee you enemies will not be so kind." That's Malvici training right there. Pounded into them from a young age and all the way through the required service. She flicks a glance at the rubicund bow she had to leave behind, but shrugs and gives a nod to Dulcinea. "At your leisure." Pained but still standing, it would seem she's not willing to back down, lifting her bow for another shot.

Dulcinea nods. "If you're sure!"

Dulcinea takes minor damage.

Dulcinea takes moderate damage.

Dulcinea takes minor damage.

Vayne proceeds towards the benches at a casual pace, finding a seat to observe the remainder of the proceedings.

Fiora takes moderate damage.

Vayne has joined the Benches.

Fiora takes moderate damage.Fiora rolls stamina+willpower+survival against difficulty 7, getting 31.Fiora remains capable of fighting despite their wounds.

Dulcinea takes serious damage.

Fatigue clearly takes its toll on Dulcinea. Where in the first rounds she came away unscathed, as Fiora finds her mark, the Telmar lady is no longer so lucky. She takes more than one full-on, staggering blow from the punishing force behind Fiora's arrows. Her shoulders heave with her breath and strain etches her features. Her arm quivers as it pulls.

True to her word, Fiora lets the arrow fly to continue the fight. She manages to aquit herself much better this round, avoiding more of the hits and landing a few of her own! Still, the hits and the length of the combat is starting to take its toll, leaving the young woman breathing a touch heavier and moving a bit slower. At one point, she took a hit that *should* have ended the match. The young Malvici, however, powered through it to continue raining arrows down on her. There's a smart salute sent towards Dulcinea just before the third round begins.

Silas smiles faintly when Fiora finds her stride and her arrows begin to hit their mark. "This might get interesting..."

Dulcinea takes moderate damage.

Fiora takes moderate damage.Fiora rolls stamina+willpower+survival against difficulty 20, getting 7.Fiora remains capable of fighting despite their wounds.

Fiora takes moderate damage.Fiora rolls stamina+willpower+survival against difficulty 38, getting -6.Fiora is incapacitated from their wounds.

Fiora falls unconscious.

Serafine jumps up and applauds the winner, which she would have done for whomever had won but still. She whistles.

Sparte lifts a smudgy eyebrow at the sight of someone fighting with a bow, gradually having his attention drawn more fully towards the tournament by the exchange. Then the sword finally wins out, and he gives applause like everyone else. But not the fun kind.

Artorius chuckled at the match, standing up to clap "Great match to you both!" he beamed with pride at his cousin Fiora, despite the fact that she lost, her fighting spirit was more than impressive.

Opia, a fat unblinking cat arrives, following Mirari.

Dulcinea pants, the tendrils of her dark hair that straggle from beneath her cap stuck to her forehead and temples. She lowers her bow and staggers over to her opponent, falling to one knee beside her. "Healer?" she calls, for now she's finally sure it's done. "You're very, very good. Easier to kill a bringer," she tells Fiora.

    Ansel stands to clap at the result of the match. "Well fought by both!" he calls, casting a pleased smile down towards his sister. He moves to the edge of the seating area, leaning on the railing nearest to the fighting pit, waiting to receive Dulcinea after she leaves the center area.

Silas gives the archers a hearty round of applause. "Lady Dulcinea wins and advances in the winners' bracket, but Lady Fiora still gets one more chance! Alas, she should rest." He looks towards the other combatants. "Lord Artorius and Master Sparte are up next. Good luck!"

Serafine cups her hands around her mouth and howls for Sparte. "Kick his noble arse!" the Knight-princess hoots.

Merek cheers and claps.

Artorius stood up and approached the ring, cracking his neck.

"ANGRY EYEBROWS," Harper hoots, waving her free hand around wildly over her head.

Magpie watches with a detached amusement, that same happy-go-lucky smile still on his place. He offers Serafine a little wave when he recognizes her in the crowds, then looks back to watch the next match-up. "Oh, hey! Sparte! My friend from the sewers! Good luck!" He calls in support.

Dulcinea quits the field in a hurry to make room for the new combatants. She ducks under the rail, pulling off her cap and leaning on her brother. "I'm sweaty," she tells him, wiping her forehead on his tabard with a bratty grin.

Having powered through as many hits as she could, the young Malvici woman finally drops from sheer amount of damage taken. Pulled to the side by the healers, she's awake soon enough and offering a slow but respectful bow to Dulcinea. "Thank you for the spar, milady. We shall have to try that again sometime."

Dulcinea smiles brightly at Fiora. "I'd be delighted."

Sparte rubs at his eyes with one hand. "Hrmm? Oh, right. Uh, thanks." He draws his weapon, testing the balance in a cursory sort of way before approaching ARtorius and giving the man a nod. "Well, let's have some fun." He salutes Artorius before falling into a fighting pose. Why isn't he wearing his helmet? Are the eyebrows psychological warfare or something?

Artorius wields a two-handed broadsword with blackened iron pommel.

Artorius stood in the ring, taking off the sheathe and drawing the massive weapon. He held it as if it were a featherweight, and entered a stance, his eyes fixed upon Sparte. He made sure to salute the man in return, smiling a little in excitement

1 Iron Guardsmen, 2 Iron Guardsmen arrive, following Calaudrin.

Opia, a fat unblinking cat leaves, following Mirari.

"Good luck cousin!" Fiora calls it out towards Artorius as she moves to join the others in the stands, though she sits somewhat higher and to the side. Just in case. Look, a merchant exploded into a Bringer last night, okay? Shit got wierd!

Sparte trades blow after blow with Artorius. It is loud, it is intimidating, it is going to take a while. "Nice weapon! Is it really that light-" Sparte stumbles a bit past a deflected blow. "-or do you lift cattle to work out?"

Artorius attacks sparte when sparte attacks him! their blows often cause sparks between their blades. It should be noted that Artorius is still wielding the blade with one hand on the grip. The exchange is quite the show, an intimidating one at that. Artorius manages a chuckle after leaning outo f the way of a blow and apparently staggers a blocking Sparte from a deflected blow. "The blade I normally use is heavier." he chuckled, nodding to Sparte after re-entering a stance "Your not too bad yourself. Might I suggest some exercises sometime to help make wielding that easier?" he chuckled

Magpie's blue eyes (though slightly bloodshot) follow the fight between Sparte and Artorius. "Huh... " He pulls out his dagger and looks at it thoughtfully. "Well, I'm glad I'm not going to be against those two." The sailor murmurs. His eyes stray to the crowds again and he watches Harper curiously. He'll wander over closer to where she's sitting, "So which one is angry eyebrows? Sparte or the other guy?"

Dulcinea squints at the combatants. "He took the favor I gave him off. Really?" she asks Ansel, looking absolutely in a dudgeon. "I told him to wear it for everyone fighting and he's /shirking/ his -- well. Fine. I'll have someone ELSE wear it for everyone. And I expect you to break his nose twice."

Magpie has joined the Benches.

Silas clicks his tongue as the two-handed sword users do their dance of swinging their massive weapons and dodging. "Hmm." He was curious to who would land their blow first -- lightly the one who tires more quickly.

Dulcinea narrows her eyes at Ansel. "Earrings." What, do her favors carry plague?

    Ansel raises a brow, grinning slowly at his sister as she comes back towards his place near the edge of the fighting area. "I'm not entirely sure...." he starts, before just shaking his head. At her asking about the earrings, he pats his pocket demonstratively. "Right here!" he insists.

Artorius takes minor damage.

Aside, Harper answers to Magpie, helpfully: "Sparte's Angry Eyebrows."

Calling down towards Dulcinea, Fiora offers helpfully, "Perhaps if you didn't harangue him for not wearing a favor you are specifically excluding him from? That might help in getting him to put it on!" She pauses, then adds on, "Or I could clout him for you! He's usually much better behaved. We train them young to listen to the womenfolk." Chuckling, she turns towards the ring and calls out to Artorius, "Remember your training! Move those feet!"

Artorius takes minor damage.

Artorius takes serious damage.

"Just charge him! Or something." Calaudrin calls out to Sparte. He's been here this entire time, really. Slowly he meanders through the crowd, apparently not cued up to join the tournament this time around. He's mingling! His path takes him past where Dulcinea and company reside and gives the young woman a wavy. "Lady Dulcinea." Then he leans against a bench, turning to get a better look at the Sparte vs Artorius match.

Artorius still duels Sparte evenly, it could be noted that Artorius was remarkably fast for someone of his size, keeping up with Sparte excellently as they met each other blow for blow. Then Fiora talked. He turned his head to her "What?" he said because he couldn't hear, then Sparta manages a good blow on him, hitting him dead on. Artorius slides backwards, but smiles despite the wound. He cracks his neck a little, laughing "HAH good hit!" he said in praise.

Serafine stomps her feet and cheers at Sparte.

Sparte is starting to get fatigued as the fight goes on - and with it more aggressive. He doesn't have anything near the strength of Artorius, but he is spry. He starts slipping in little hits on the parries, pressing Artorius by fighting inside the full range of their weapons.
Then Sparte trips. Blade flies wild as he stumbles, catching between Artorius' legs and causing some real calamity for the other fighter entirely unexpectedly. Sparte recovers, snatching back up his sword with a pose that says 'I meant to do that' and an expression that says anything but.

Silas lets out whoop when Sparte lands the first hit, and then some. "Iron and Blood!" He's gotta' root for his guys.

Sparte takes moderate damage.

Dulcie beams at Calaudrin. "Cal! How lovely to see you!" She tugs Ansel's arm. "That's Calaudrin Estardes. He took command on the walls and stepped in a bucket of pitch the night Asoka and I jumped. He's splendid. Every woman in Arx should be stuck to him like a burr. Maybe you should introduce him to Sophie?"

Sparte takes serious damage.

Sparte takes minor damage.

Artorius takes minor damage.

Sparte takes moderate damage.

Sparte takes minor damage.

Artorius takes minor damage.

Artorius takes serious damage.

Sparte takes serious damage.Sparte rolls stamina+willpower+survival against difficulty 38, getting 34.Sparte remains capable of fighting despite their wounds.

    It's all Ansel can do to smile at his sister's -wonderfully- helpful suggestion. "We've not met before, no," he replies, offering a polite nod in the direction of the man indicated by his younger sister. "I

    It's all Ansel can do to smile at his sister's -wonderfully- helpful suggestion. "We've not met before, no," he replies, offering a polite nod in the direction of the man indicated by his younger sister. "I'm sure the man has no shortage of admirers, with heroics like that," he replies.

Artorius takes serious damage.Artorius rolls stamina+willpower+survival against difficulty 30, getting 26.Artorius remains capable of fighting despite their wounds.

Sparte takes very serious damage.Sparte rolls stamina+willpower+survival against difficulty 104, getting -52.Sparte is incapacitated from their wounds.

Sparte falls unconscious.

Dulcinea flutters her lashes. "But Sophie could be of such /help/ to him if he steps in more things that are on fire."

    Ansel just chuckles, quietly. "I appreciate the suggestion, sister," he replies, leaning over a bit to nudge his shoulder against Dulcinea's, lightly.

Artorius unleashed the fury. His speed heightened by a mile when he truly fought Sparte, his grip still one-handed to help with speed while the other helped with blocking. They both meet each other blow for blow, where it seems Artorius has the edge. BUT Sparte comes back and deals him a multitude of blows himself. Artorius seemed to be beyond focused, eventually landing a critical blow on Sparte across his chest.

Sparte starts taking hits as hard and heavy as he is getting them, then harder, and then at the very end he takes one that might've dropped a person right off at the start of the fight. So when he falls down to a knee and can't go on any further, the fact his armor isn't concave is a miracle in itself. "ooof, haaa." He gives Artorius, a thumbs up, then falls over onto his back. "Just... Just gonna lie here a bit." He gestures limply with his wrist. "G'fight."

Merek claps and cheers in applause.

And then they suddenly start hitting each other! And hitting each other -hard-. Silas squints at the sudden change in the flow of the fight, while the Mercies stationed nearby begin to mutter in worry. Sparte appears to be getting more punishment than the nobleman, and in the end he falls. The healers are quick to scramble forward and help drag him to safety. "Spectacular match! Victory goes to Lord Artorius." Silas peers at his scroll again. "Next up, Master Merek versus Master Magpie! Good luck, gentlemen."

Serafine cups her hands around her mouth again and howls for her fellow guard.

Artorius smiled at Sparte, bowing lightly to the downed man. "You are a worthy opponent." he looked beat up, but he was still smiling, like it didn't do much in the long run. He smiled, moving to the benches after sheathing his greatsword. He sat right next to Fiora. smiling a little.

Dulcinea rolls her eyes. "'But I'm not giving you your way,'" she speaks Ansel's unspoken conclusion. "Honestly. If people would just learn to bend to my perfect will..."

moves down from where he was chatting with Harper, "Oh yeeeeah! I'm ready. Representing the Lower Boroughs, Captain Magpie of the Magpie. I know I'm an underdog. Try not to be too disappointed when you all lose your bets on Merek here." He throws the guard a grin, "I'm just kidding, let's do this." Magpie pulls out his dagger and smoothes his cotton shirt.

Magpie has left the Benches.

Magpie has joined the fighting grounds.

Merek stands up, and pads his Eurusi blade, before he makes his way into the center of the fighting ring. The weapon is twirled about, as his cloak is shifted, and he prapers his stance, with a nod to Magpie, "Gloria's honor upon this battle."

    "I'm sure things would be much simpler," replies Ansel, chuckling quietly once again. The Sword's pale eyes turn towards the center area once again, looking to the fight to come.

Harper drums her boots on the benches to order to applaud the last two fighters and acknowledge the two new ones taking the field. "BEAT HIM," she yells. In her only moment of being truly diplomatic, because she does not specify.

Fiora claps Artorius lightly on the shoulder when he joins her, smiling faintly in his direction. "That was an excellent fight, Arty. I am duly impressed." She gropes around inside her cloak for a minute before coming up with a thick glass flask full of amber liquid. Offering it towards him, she murmurs, "Thankfully this also means we won't have to face off against each other."

Dulcinea tilts her head, as though touching her ear to her shoulder will give her a better view of the combatants. "I'm not sure who to root for. The one with the scarf is pretty."

Artorius smiled a little, nodding his head in thanks to her when she came back with a flask. "Thank you Fiora. Yours was an excellent fight as well." he took a sip from it respectfully, handing it back to Fiora. "Truthfully. I would love to face you sometime, however, I am happy that I won't have to defeat you to win. Which does me some comfort." he smiled to Fiora.

Magpie takes minor damage.

Magpie takes moderate damage.

Magpie takes minor damage.

Magpie takes minor damage.

Merek takes a moment and lifts his blade, placing his second hand beside it, before he takes his time to lunge towards in a flurrry towards Magpie. He makes clean strikes with the padded weapon, and manages to weave from the brunt of damage, the rest seeming to glance off his leathers.

Sparte slowly gets up to a sitting position, giving the familiar faces of the mercies a look and a smile. "Been a while. Would think a Bringer would've done it by now, but less trouble with them somehow." He looks over, clapping for the two fighters. "Be careful of that one, they like cheap shots!" He doesn't clarify which he means.

"As am I, Arty. I have never been folded over a greatsword, and I will be utterly happy to remain ignorant of that particular sensation for the rest of my life," Fiora responds with a small chuckle, taking the flask back for a sip before pasing it back across to him. "Thank you. I fear my armor needs a bit more refining before I am ready to take on the lady again. Remind me to run past the bank when this is through so I can withdraw some funds and get it up to snuff."

Magpie looks completely at ease standing before Merek, but that probably has more to do with the haze than anything. Still, he drops into an easy stance when the fight begins. He parries Merek at first, but then the guard gets several good hits on him before the sailor drops back into a more defensive crouch. The roguish Grayhope has yet to score even a scratch on Merek, but he's not backing down either. He wipes sweat from his brow, his brown curls more pronounced, and moves in again.

Magpie takes moderate damage.

Merek takes serious damage.

Magpie takes moderate damage.

Magpie takes minor damage.

Merek takes moderate damage.

Magpie takes serious damage.Magpie rolls stamina+willpower+survival against difficulty 33, getting 6.Magpie remains capable of fighting despite their wounds.

Merek takes very serious damage.Merek rolls stamina+willpower+survival against difficulty 12, getting 8.Merek remains capable of fighting despite their wounds.

Magpie takes moderate damage.Magpie rolls stamina+willpower+survival against difficulty 45, getting -13.Magpie is incapacitated from their wounds.

Magpie falls unconscious.

Artorius smiled to Fiora, taking the flask again to sip from it. Sitting with his legs masculinely crossed. "Hah, it is a an interesting sensation. But aye, it is one I would prefer you to avoid." he chuckled a little "Certainly! Could even get new gear if you have enough, though I imagine you are more comfortable in your current gear." he smiled, sipping again from the flask before handing it back to Fiora. "Excellent fight!" he claps

Dulcinea hums, looking content with the outcome of the fight. "Always bet on the pretty one."

Merek seems to be a bit winded, as the battle continues, the sweeps from his weapon catching Magpie, however a couple slide in past his defenses at weak points, driving him back. At one point, he stabs the padded weapon hard into Magpie, as the return strikes him pretty hard. However as he and the other might stagger, he grins, "Left an opening," then he sweeps Magpie to the ground. Afterwards he shifts a bit unsteady, and offers his hand to the opponent.

Harper quips in Dulcinea's direction without waiting. "Damn straight. My money woulda be on you, sweetcheeks."

Silas looks mildly impressed when Magpie manages to get Merek good a few times, but pleased with Merek emerging as the victor. He claps from his position in the stands. "Well done, both of you! Merek advances, Magpie still gets another chance in the losers bracket." It was double-elimination! He turns his head towards the spectators. "Dame Serafine and Lord Ansel next! Good luck."

Magpie rushes at Merek, abandoning defenses to let his speed and tenacity work for him. He's downright reckless as he ducks and weaves, clenching his teeth against the heavy hits that Merek slams into him with that padded sword. He starts to gain some ground against the trained guard, but then the scruffy sailor zigs when he should have zagged and is wipes right off his feet by Merek's longer reach. There's a grunt and it's a few moments of blinking before Magpie takes Merek's hand and shakily gets to his feet. "Pretty sure I left a lot of openings. Good fight..." He says, and drags himself off to collapse in the nearest chair. "Ughhh... "

    Ansel claps as the fight comes to an end. "Well fought by both," he says, approvingly, before sloooowly looking over at Harper, a mildly amused look to his expression. Anything that he had to ask about, however, goes unspoken, the Sword moving to step towards the arena at Silas' instruction.

Laughing softly, Fiora takes the flask back and shakes her head at Arty. "This *is* the new gear. Calypso gave it to me just last week. But I could not use the bow she had crafted for me, its rubicund. So I had to use my old bow.. which is just common wood, nothing special." Looking down to the ring with a chuckle, she shakes her head, "Poor man. Never face a blacksmith. They know the blades better than anyone, you know.."

Serafine stands slowly and stretches, winks to Harper, and heads on down to the Fighting Grounds. She unsheathes her sword and swings it about to loosen up, grinning at Ansel as she joins him. "Hit me proper, aye?" the woman encourages. "This is going to be fun."

Serafine has left the Benches.

Serafine has joined the fighting grounds.

Dulcinea squeaks and jumps up and down. "Go go, Ansel! Go go go!" she claps. The medieval fantasy cheerleader, everyone.

    Ansel slowly makes his way into the ring, rolling his shoulder out with a stretch. His heirloom weapon is removed, and left safe in the keeping of Dulcinea, with a quick peck to his sister's cheek. The Telmar reaches for the longsword kept at his hip, slowly bringing it free of the leather with an oily-sounding scrape. A polite nod is given to Serafine. "It always is, my lady," he replies, ducking his head into his helm, nodding in readiness.

Artorius smiled softly to the duel before looking to Fiora again "Oh I apologize. I'm glad Calypso has helped you integrate back into things well." he chuckled "She even helped me get my darksteel armor. It has served me well through many battles, and of course my Rubicund greatsword...which I prefer." he chuckled "You are still a worthy fighter Fiora." he chuckled at her last comment.

Darrow steps into the training arena, pausing at the door. The brooding knight stalks towards the makeshift stands, silent, and solitary. He ascends and takes a seat with a vantage point down to the current paired combatants.

Harper has left the Benches.

Serafine takes minor damage.

Ansel takes moderate damage.

Serafine takes moderate damage.

Ansel takes minor damage.

Serafine takes moderate damage.

Serafine takes minor damage.

Estaban comes into the training grounds looking about, seeing that things are already underway he moves around to find himself a place to sit and watch.

Fiora flicks a faint grin towards Artorius and shrugs, "Its all sheer, bloody stubbornness to not fall. And yes, Malvici training. One of these days, I shall tell you a secret, Arty. The secret to my odd training." But not today! Today she is drinking and healing and watching other people fight!

Artorius chuckled lightly at Fiora "Mhm. I learned the same lessons remember!" he chuckled, watching the fight "Oh, I cannot wait for this day to come when my dearest cousin Fiora tells me a secret." he said quietly, but chuckled. Drinking and fighting today!


Serafine launches herself into the attacks, dodging, taking as little space as possible, efficient in her grace as she moves inside of Ansel's defenses, landing blows and dancing out of the way. He's skilled though, catches her more than twice and she barks with laughter and yelps in pain now and then. "Well done!" she cackles, panting, dodging backwards.

    Ansel moves into the middle of the pit, his sword held out low to his side, such that the tip of the weapon nearly drags a line in the dirt underfoot. This isn't the first spar the pair has had, and so it doesn't take long before hits are landed, and blows exchanged. No matter how quickly he dodges, it's not quite fast enough to avoid the Knight's bladework, and so the first series of exchanges ends with the two roughly equal. "Just as quick as I remember last time..." replies Ansel, quietly, sidestepping a bit.

Silas hollers from his spot on the front bench. "GOOOO SERAFINE!"

Dulcinea bounces some more, punching the air. "Get her, Annie! Knock her back into last spring's fashions!"

Ansel takes minor damage.

Ansel takes serious damage.

Artorius cheers for the both of them "Give it your all!"

Serafine takes minor damage.

Serafine takes moderate damage.

Whisper the Snowy Owl, Frostbite the Wolf arrive, following Killian.

Serafine takes moderate damage.

Ansel takes serious damage.Ansel rolls stamina+willpower+survival against difficulty 11, getting 29.Ansel remains capable of fighting despite their wounds.

Ansel takes moderate damage.Ansel rolls stamina+willpower+survival against difficulty 22, getting 8.Ansel remains capable of fighting despite their wounds.

Serafine takes minor damage.

Serafine takes minor damage.Serafine rolls stamina+willpower+survival against difficulty 7, getting 61.Serafine remains capable of fighting despite their wounds.

Killian had heard about the practice bouts at the Training Center, but things have been hectic of late..to say the least..and as he arrives it's in full knowledge that he missed the party. Even so, he slips in and moves towards the spectator benches, eyes upon the match taking place, as he settles into a seat in silence.

Ansel takes moderate damage.Ansel rolls stamina+willpower+survival against difficulty 45, getting -16.Ansel is incapacitated from their wounds.

Ansel falls unconscious.

Killian has joined the Benches.

Estaban has joined the Benches.

"Ohhhhhhhhh... /FUDGE!/" Dulcinea shouts. She runs over to the rail. "Annie are you okay? Annie are you okay? Are you okay, Annie?"


Serafine is starting to sweat, she's gleeful as fuck though, taking the hits and dodging, driven to her knees more than once and rolling back and away, cursing, laughing. "Gloria's Untainted TWA-" she blurts out, taking a tumble backwards. She takes the distraction, gets inside his defenses, and headbutts the man right in the solar plexus.

"... I'm debating if I should be glad she didn't finish that line," Merek muses.

Fiora chuckles at Artorius and lifts a shrug, "I had different training from yours, so I would not make that claim *just* yet. Same basics, differing philosophies and techniques. I do not swing a sword, after all." She watches as Ansel is felled, giving a nod to the Velenosan princess with a small chuckle. The sight of a familiar face has her blinking once. She passes the flask to Artorius, then murmurs, "Enjoy the whiskey. I am going to greet a friend." She gets up from her seat and traipses carefully down the benches to reach Killian. She taps his right shoulder before quickly seating herself on his left and seeming to give the whole of her attention to the fighting ring. No really, she's been here the whole time!

Vayne eyes Serafine, then Merek from the benches. "Yes. You should be glad that she didn't finish that line," he declares authoritatively.

Artorius chuckled a little, taking the whiskey from Fiora after he wrinkles his nose at her playfully. "Certainly." he takes a light sip, before setting the flask next to him.

Silas can't help but chortle at Serafine's colorful language as she attempts to get past Ansel's formidable guard, and cheers when she succeeds! "Great fight, both of you! Dame Serafine is victorious and shall advance in the bracket, while Lord Ansel can rest and await his turn in the losers bracket. I look forward to seeing both of you fight again!" The excitement in his tone sounds genuine. "We move onto the first round of the losers' bracket. First match is Master Sparte versus Lady Fiora!"

    Ansel's isn't exactly a smooth criminal. But his sister has probably just been -waiting- to use that line with him. Steel crashes against steel, mostly the sound of blades hitting armor as the pair starts to tire, and hits begin to come even more rapidly. Ansel lands a blow, twisting to slash again, but then Serafine just -crashes- right into his chest with the top of her helm, literally knocking his feet out from under him. The Sword eats dust with a grumble, coming to as his sister come on over. "I'm alright, I'm alright.." he insists, finding his feet with Dulcinea's help.

"Go Lady Fiora!" Merek announces, after an aside nod to Vayne.

Sparte gets up, the whole clanky lot of him, and trundles on towards the arena. "Another go? Alright." He is still wearing bandages from the mercies, but that is what happens every time.

Killian is watching the ring, before someone raps upon his armor to get his attention. He looks first the one way, then the other, blinking a tiny bit in confusion before he realizes it's Fiora and lifts a brow. "Are we just tuning the bell-tone of my armor?" he asks curiously even as Frostbite moves up to press against Fiora's legs, seeming to demand attention in a very demanding fashion.

Dulcinea dusts her brother off. "Oh, look, Lady Fiora's going to put arrows in that other person," she says as she helps him off the field.

Artorius cheers for Fiora "Let's go Fiora!"

Estaban watches the fight from where he sits, his eyes taking in everyones stance and movments. He nods and winces when the fight comes to a end and he claps and cheers for the two fighters then spots Fiora and Sparte and leans forward a bit.

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

Serafine drags herself to the benches but not until she helps Ansel up. "Well fought, my lord," she says, panting.

Blinking, Fiora head pops up. She apparently had not been expecting to get called again. Turning towards Killian, she chuckles, "To be continued, apparently. I shall bring a tuning fork next time." Winking, she gives Frostbite a good scrubbing around the ruff of her neck, then collects her bow and nimbly hops off the benches to make her way towards the ring. She offers a smart bow to Sparte and pulls up the mask on her hood once more. "Master Sparte..."

    Ansel makes his way to the benches, after offering Serafine a grateful, tired smile. "Well fought, as always," he says, breathlessly.

Sparte looks between Fiora's bow and his sword a few times, glancing over to Silas with an uncertain look before facing his opponent. "Lady Fiora." Stepping in, he sets to work.

Fiora takes serious damage.

Frostbite looks happy at pettings, but then her petting supplier goes out to the training ground to get beat on some more and the wolf lays down at Killian's feet. The young knight leans to watch in silence for the moment, considering the field but seeming almost distracted as he watches the battle begin to unfold.

Dulcinea winces as Fiora takes the first wound. "Remember the bow and armor you're getting me for an early birthday present?" she nudges Ansel.

Even though the event is still going on, Tikva rises from the bench and ducks her head, moving to slip out unnoticed.

Tikva has left the Benches.

Mariah, a nanny leaves, following Tikva.

Fiora takes serious damage.

    Ansel smiles, reaching to tuck some sweat-stained hair back behind his ears. "I know you wouldn't let me forget," he comments, sitting back a bit, exhaling as he catches his breath. "Something wrong with this armor?" he asks, reaching to poke at one of his sister's leg guards.

Darrow silently rises after the match between Serafine and Ansel concludes, making his way towards the exit.

Dulcinea shakes her head. "It's fine! But better is always better and you promised." Puppy eyes.

The huge weapon in Sparte's hands may not have the strength some others wield those swords with, but is almost better than a shield against arrows. He bends it to deflect shots before spinning around and taking punishing blows against Fiora. He winces every time he hits her, even if he is favoring the flat of his blade. Taking a pause he allows Fiora some distance away from him to recover.

Fiora alrready knows the flaws in this match when she stepped into the ring. Its why she trained to fight *with* a swordsman rather than against one. But it makes the fight itself no less fun for the trying! She can't seem to land any hits on the man, he's suspiciously spry for a man in full steel! Taking a few rather nasty hits, she's nevertheless still on her feet when the round ends. "Nicely swung, sir!"

Merek watches the weapon that is swung towards the opponent, while he asides to Vayne, "It's been a while since I've seen Gloria honored in fights that don't end in bloodshed, it is refreshing, would you not agree?" he asks idly.

    A quiet chuckle from Ansel, and he nods concedingly to Dulcinea once again, wincing as he stretches his sword arm. "Yes, of course," he replies, nodding once again. "They'll be as magnificent as can be," he promises.

Fiora wields a pitch black longbow with rough-out leather grip.

Fiora takes moderate damage.

Vayne glances aside to Merek. "I don't often come to combat exhibitions, so I don't have much of a reference to make comparisons. But with the enemy outside the gates announcing his intent to march upon us, I would think it behooves us to shed as little of our own blood as possible until then."

Dulcinea cups her hand around her brother's ear to whisper.

Sparte takes moderate damage.

Sparte takes minor damage.

Fiora takes minor damage.

Silas cheers for Sparte, but seems concerned when it appears that he's not dodging the arrows. "Uh... zig-zag, Sparte!"

"True, but padded weapons and mercies makes it much easier on them," Merek admits, while he calls out, "Catch them in mid-air!"

Whatever seems to have been interfering with the flow of the fight earlier seems to have passed, and Sparte is now taking hits. He grins with each of them, getting a bit more into the fight. Seems a foe that can't make him hurt just isn't as much fun. "Good aim! Get ready!"

Dulcinea rests her head on Ansel's shoulder and yawns, put gives a little fist punch in the air for every arrow that finds a mark. Go go, archers! Go go!

With her bow out (finally), Fiora doesn't aquit herself too poorly! She manages to land a number of hits on him this time around, and isn't quite to injured. She manages to keep up with the young soldier, chuckling and offering back, "Eyes up, Master Sparte.. they'll be coming quicker now."

Fiora takes serious damage.

Sparte takes minor damage.

Fiora takes minor damage.

Fiora takes serious damage.Fiora rolls stamina+willpower+survival against difficulty 13, getting 21.Fiora remains capable of fighting despite their wounds.

Fiora takes moderate damage.Fiora rolls stamina+willpower+survival against difficulty 25, getting 47.Fiora remains capable of fighting despite their wounds.

Apparently Sparte took her words to heart this round, Fiora only manages to land one or two glancing blows, but takes a few heavy hits in return! There's a time or two where it seems as though the young woman might fall. Each time, she pushes back to her feet and stays standing by sheer, stubborn bloody will. Her grip tightens on her bow as she winces from what is likely a cracked rib or three, but smiles behind the mask nonetheless. "Excellent! Are you ready for the final round, sir?"

Sparte steadies his blade, looking over Fiora with those eyebrows of his all furrowed in concern. "If you're certain you want to go to the end, I won't deny you." He salutes her with his blade, before closing once more.

Sparte takes minor damage.

Fiora takes serious damage.Fiora rolls stamina+willpower+survival against difficulty 53, getting -6.Fiora is incapacitated from their wounds.

Fiora falls unconscious.

Serafine stomps her feet and cheers for Sparte! "Well done!"

Dulcinea claps her hands. "Huzzah, Lady Fiora! Excellent fight!"

Merek apllauds the battle, with a small smile, as he stretches out and watches it all continue.

Sparte just lets his blade fall to the ground after it is clear the final blow has been struck, stepping over to lend a hand to Lady Fiora and waving the mercies in. "You fought well, will be glad to have you at my back against a common enemy some day."

Silas sets his quill down after scribbling in the score and raises his hands to clap. "Sparte wins! Lady Fiora has been eliminated from the tournament, unfortunately, but did marvelously!" He absent wipes his gauntlets of ink, scraping it on the bench seat. "Next up in the losers bracket, Master Magpie versus Lord Ansel!"

Artorius claps for Fiora "Excellent fight Fiora! You did phenomenal!"

Dulcinea pecks Ansel's cheek "Smoosh him, Annie."

Magpie drags himself back to his feet, wincing a bit and bruises from his first fight. He gives Ansel an appraising look, then makes his ways out to the center of the ring, throwing him a grin, "Be gentle, my lord." He says with a chuckle, then pulls out his dagger and falls into a crouch.

Estaban cheers after the fight is done, "Well done Fiora!" he calls out from where he is sitting.

Falling once more, albeiet this time to a giant sword wielded by an Iron Guardsman, Fiora pulls herself up slowly. She offers a nod towards Dulcinea, tugging the mask down now that she's not fighting. "Thank you, Lady Dulcinea." Looking to Sparte, she offers a slow and careful bow to Sparte, "Most excellent, sir. I commend your skill." Slipping from the ring once more, she shoulders the bow and moves back to the bleachers. Settling down near Killian once more, she consoles herself with petting Frostbite, though the calls from Estaban and Artorius have her smiling up into the stands towards them.

Dulcinea sits up pretty to watch her brother not be a big loser, this time.

    Ansel looks up a bit, as though forgetting that it's a double-elimination event. Then Dulcie's pecked his cheek, and the Telmar gives a quick nod, heading out into the ring once more, stooping to collect his longsword from its spot leaning against the railing. Looking to Magpie, then, a polite nod is given as the young Telmarine regards the man. "Ready when you are, then," he says, calmly, freeing sword from sheath with a 'snick'.

Magpie takes minor damage.

Magpie takes minor damage.

Magpie takes moderate damage.

Sparte collects his blade, sheathing it and leaving as well once it is clear Fiora is not seriously hurt. Winning doesn't exactly look like something he is used to. Once out of the way, he turns to watch the next match with interest.

Fiora has left the fighting grounds.

Fiora has joined the Benches.

Artorius watches the match, resting his elbows on his knees, he smiled softly as the two men exchanged their blows.

Magpie takes minor damage.

Vayne has left the Benches.

Frostbite on the other hand doesn't seem to mind at -all- that Fiora is back so soon, and scoots closer to pettings. Fluffy wolf is fluffy. Killian looks over and says, "You are quite skilled with that bow..I need to work on my own skills at archery, one of these days..but it seems there is always a more pressing training or study.."

Vayne departs the benches and proceeds out of the training grounds, evidently not able to stay until the conclusion of the exhibition.

    Ansel once more approaches the engagement with a loosely held sword, the point nearly dragging in the dust underfoot. He squares off from the man, sidestepping a bit as he keeps his distance, working the advantage that a longer weapon affords. Most of the Telmar's forays towards the man are met with quick parry, and it's only a pair of glancing blows that he's able to claim for his efforts.

Magpie plays things carefully as he approaches the armored man, more cautiously poking and prodding. He can't get a blow past Ansel's excellent defense, and earns more than a couple of smacks for his effort. "You're very good at this..." He says with a snicker after another of the nobleman's slashes get past his defenses.

"He's rather nimble," Dulcinea remarks, watching Magpie avoid smooshing.

Magpie takes very serious damage.

Silas watches Magpie curiously, eager to see if he can manage to actually get past Ansel's armor. So far, no wafer.

Magpie takes very serious damage.Magpie rolls stamina+willpower+survival against difficulty 35, getting -2.Magpie is incapacitated from their wounds.

Magpie falls unconscious.

    Maybe it's a chance circumstance, or a favorable angle. But Ansel's next steps towards the man afford him with a chance to press his advance forward, landing a heavy blow before whirling around, following it with a second slash. The Grayhope'

Magpie's attempts at being careful really aren't getting him anywhere against Ansel's excellent defense, so the smuggler just makes a fast rush at the lord instead. It worked on Merek, and maybe it will work here. Magpie's dagger is pushed aside, then pushed aside again while he takes a hard hit to his side and another with the flat of the blade to the back of his head. The Grayhope spills to the ground, neatly knocked unconscious from the braining he just took.

Dulcinea winces. WINCE. Shoulder hitch. Flinch. "I think I cursed him. Poor man."

    And just like that it was over. Silas cringes hard. "Master Magpie fought valiantly, but Lord Ansel has eliminated him from the tournament. We applaud his bravery nevertheless!" Magpie, after all, was a knife wielder with no armor. "Next up, in the winners bracket, Lady Dulcinea versus Lord Artorius!"

Fiora is more than happy to provide the pettings. ALL the pettings. She even knows enough to really dig those thin fingers under the floofy top coat to scritch at the coarser and thicker undercoat. Belly rubbings could be negotiated. Turning her face towards Killian, she gives a small nod, "Perhaps we could help each other out, then. I am certain there is a skill you could impart to me that would be equally useful. We can always use more archers on the wall, and should the gates fall, archery will fast become a priceless skill with the defenses being set up." She scritches up under Frostbite's jaw and looks back to the ring just in time to watch Magpie fall again. She winces briefly, then calls out, "Good fight to the both of you!"

    Maybe it's a chance circumstance, or a favorable angle. But Ansel's next steps towards the man afford him with a chance to press his advance forward, landing a heavy blow before whirling around, following it with a second slash, the blade angled flat, and aimed for the man's upper half. Just as quickly as it's done, the Telmar Sword is standing over the man, offering a hand up once the Mercies in attendance have brought him back to the land of the living. "Don't get to see many small blades, especially not ones with your skill. Well fought, indeed."

Merek lifts up his hands and claps, "Good fight, both of you," he calls out. He seems in good spirits while he adjusts his cloak and continues to observe. He uses his sword to lean upon and watch. Then to Fiora, "Nice bowmanship earlier, quite commendable," he adds in.

Artorius was surprised at how fast that that match was! he cheered nonetheless. He would stand up when his ballad was called, walking down to the ring to do battle against an archer...hopefully no arrows would hit him..that would be a pain to remove.

Dulcinea leans over to Fiora and murmurs, "I'm going to get my arse killed out there, aren't I?"

Leaning back towards Dulcinea, she murmurs, "Quick on your feet, that sword he has there is only maybe three-quarter weight of his usual sword. Its easier for him to swing, and faster. If you can stay out of its range, you might just pull it out."

Artorius when he entered the ring, he slowly unsheathed his steel greatsword, leaning it against his shoulder. If Dulcinea looked, he would reveal he was in fact wearing her favor, the aquamarine jewel shining just lightly around the necklace. He pulled the chain a little to show it to Dulcinea "Let's have a good match."

Estaban calls out, "YOu got this Artorius!" he calls from where he is sitting.

Magpie has left the fighting grounds.

Artorius takes minor damage.

Dulcinea takes serious damage.

Killian considers Fiora's offer and smiles slightly, "I'm afraid that, for the time being, my scant spare time is spent in studies of a different nature..perhaps once the siege is lifted I shall have leisure to pursue matters that would be of joy to learn..as to the walls..I fear that my deployment was decided long since, but I shall say prayers that the archers upon the walls strike true and relentlessly against the enemy as they press towards the gate." He's...very serious this seldom serious young knight. He glances towards the next names called upon the grounds and considers, "I've not seen either of them fight before.." he muses as the fight gets under way.

Artorius takes moderate damage.

Dulcinea takes serious damage.

Dulcinea takes moderate damage.

Dulcinea takes critical damage.Dulcinea rolls stamina+willpower+survival against difficulty 50, getting -30.Dulcinea is incapacitated from their wounds.

Dulcinea falls unconscious.

Artorius would stand face to face with Dulcinea a good distance away for her to get more than a few shots off. He charges her with an unnatural speed of a man of his stature and size (height, muscle build) and dashes with incredible speed. She does manage to get a few hits with her arrows, but the others he slices clean away with his sword or catches with his offhand. He had a single-handed grip. He simply closed the distance too quickly! using the flat of his blade to take down Dulcinea with some heavy blows. some hit, some don't, but it's still a helluva lotta damage.

The archer does her best to stay out of the swordsman's range, but to no avail. She looses shot after shot, but most are deflected by Artorius's superior armor. Some find a home in the spaces between, but are mere pricks compared to the blows she receives in return. Finally, a crushing blow and Dulcinea is knocked off her feet. She staggers, attempting to rise again, and cannot. It's over.

Poor Dulcinea was soundly defeated, but at least she gave Artorious some arrows to his fleshy bits. Silas clears his throat. "Lord Artorius wins, Lady Dulcinea shall fight again in the losers bracket. Onward!" Silas peers at his scroll. "Next is Dame Serafine versus Master Merek! Regardless of the result, the Iron Guard will be proud of you both."

Fiora glances back towards Killian and smiles faintly, "I understand all too well about scant free time. I often feel pulled in a dozen different directions all at once and it can be difficult to prioritize them properly." She continues the pettings on Frostbite as she listens to Killian speak. Giving it some thought, she leans up to murmur something into the young lord's ear, then pulls back to call out for the fighters. "Go Artorius! You did it!! Well done, Dulcinea, you acquitted yourself well!"

Serafine has left the fighting grounds.

Serafine has joined the fighting grounds.

    Ansel smiles to his sister as he walks out onto the fighting pit, reaching down to scoop her up to her feet, carrying her off the field for the others to continue. "You did very well," he encourages. "Made it further than I did," he points out, bringing her back over to their seats.

Dulcinea has joined the Benches.

Artorius lowers his hand to help Dulcy up, but her brother got to her first. "You did good my lady." he bowed in her direction, before leaving the ring, allowing the new fighters to take their marks.

Ansel has left the fighting grounds.

Ansel has joined the Benches.

Dulcinea limps over to the benches with the assistance of her brother and on of the Mercies. "Well. Now... he's REALLY in trouble..."

Merek stands up, and twirls his blade, moving into the center. He is not going to win more than like, but he seems confident all the same. He swishes his cloak so it flits about in a dramatic fashion, as he clasps his hands, "Gloria guide my hands," he states, then pivots before he slides his blade to his side in a swishing motion.

Artorius sat up where he was on the bleachers, looking pretty guilty. He thought of Dulcy as his friend! He didn't WANT to hurt her or anything. He looks at Dulcinea, his head lowered a little. Poor Art, tough as nails but a big heart underneath.

Serafine darts out into the fighting grounds, jumping over the rail and pulling out her blade, grinning at Merek. "Huzzah, beautiful fucker," she says to him cheekily.

"Shall we dance?" Merek asks, chuckling.

Serafine grins. "Aye."

Merek takes minor damage.

Oh, honestly. Dulcinea rolls her eyes at Artorius. "It's all in good fun," she says to him. "Stop looking like a kicked puppy. If you write something unflattering about me in the white journals again, I'm going to pull your scrotum up over your head. Alright?" She smiles. Friends again.

Merek takes minor damage.

Merek takes moderate damage.

Merek takes minor damage.

Merek takes serious damage.

Serafine takes minor damage.

Merek takes moderate damage.

Merek takes moderate damage.

Merek takes minor damage.

Serafine takes moderate damage.

Merek takes very serious damage.Merek rolls stamina+willpower+survival against difficulty 43, getting -10.Merek is incapacitated from their wounds.

Merek falls unconscious.

Artorius smiled to Dulcinea warmly, showing her her favor once more. He gave her a wink. Clever man! Well...that's one way to earn forgiveness apparently. He bowed his head once. "Then I would fear to spar you again, should that happen. Next time I'll even out flattering things from unflattering things." he chuckled.

Dulcinea frowns. "If you truly think unflattering things about me, you should speak them to me, not broadcast them to the world." Uh-oh, Artie.

Artorius winks a little "Relax. Do you think so ill of me to do it again? Besides, it's not like theres anything ACTUALLY unflattering about you."

Silas watches the Iron Guardsmen exchange blow after blow, but Serafine finishes the match with one heavy blow. Silas winces, but nods. "Dame Serafine advances. Master Merek is transferred to the losers bracket, and he may want to stay there as the Mercies tend to him -- he faces off against another Iron Guardsman. It is Master Merek versus Master Sparte, next!"

Merek takes a moment to rush towards Serafine, and his blade is dancing in a flurry, however the strikes are shifted from the armor off to the side. He just doesn't have the strength, and a couple are parried. Her blows however, strike him in a furious tandem. The count lifts up, and he continues to try and fight for ground. He manages well with a few dodges, then taking more strikes, before he comes around with a growl, putting all his power into a blow that strikes Serafine just before the return takes him down to the ground, "NoooooooOOOO! Slain by my arch-nemesis..." He makes a dramatic sound, and tilts his head, sticking his tongue out. He hears it is his turn again, and with Mr. Survive All. Well then. He pushes up, grunting.

"Again, you both do the Iron Guard proud. But maybe let Merek take a short breather," Silas adds.

Dulcinea raises her eyebrows high at Artoius. "So you wrote falsely when you stated you found me selfi -- " Oh! Is something going on that isn't all about her? She looks around. "Oh! My goodness! Well done, your highness!" She applauds.

Sparte winces a little bit as he stands up to head over for the next match. Merek gets a grin, before Sparte does some warmup stretches. Calisthenics, now in tin cans.


Serafine is sweating and dancing out of the way, striking, that efficient grace working in her favor time and again. When he falls, she sheathes her blade and moves to offer the man a hand up. "Well fought," she says with a smile.

Artorius applauded for the match as it had concluded, smiling as the final blow was made.

Merek stands up and takes a bit to catch his breath, then eventually, he takes his time to settle into the ring, ready once more.

Serafine has left the fighting grounds.

Serafine has joined the Benches.

Merek takes minor damage.

Merek takes moderate damage.

Serafine skips over to the benches and takes her own breather.

Merek takes very serious damage.

Merek takes moderate damage.Merek rolls stamina+willpower+survival against difficulty 9, getting 21.Merek remains capable of fighting despite their wounds.

Sparte takes moderate damage.

Merek takes minor damage.Merek rolls stamina+willpower+survival against difficulty 11, getting 26.Merek remains capable of fighting despite their wounds.

Sparte takes minor damage.

Sparte takes moderate damage.

Merek takes moderate damage.Merek rolls stamina+willpower+survival against difficulty 20, getting 22.Merek remains capable of fighting despite their wounds.

Merek takes minor damage.Merek rolls stamina+willpower+survival against difficulty 28, getting 0.Merek is incapacitated from their wounds.

Merek falls unconscious.

Dulcinea whistles low. "My goodness."

Merek rushes to take on Sparte, and at first he is struck well a few times. He seems a bit tired still after having just been in a fight. Even so, he lifts up his sword, and lets out a growl, as he harries Sparte, doing more than just glancing off. He slams into the man with the hilt of his blade, then succeeds a few strikes, matching blow for blow, until he's knocked back after a fierce exchange. He holds up his hand to yield once downed.

Silas smirks when the match concludes. "Master Sparte wins, but not without a valiant effort by Master Merek. Sparte advances. You did us proud, Merek." Silas offers the young guardsman a salute and the Mercies hurry forward to tend to him. "Next match is Lady Dulcinea versus Lord Ansel!"

Dulcinea flashes a smile at her brother. "I love you. Remember that when you're beating the pulp out of me, and feel really, really bad."

Dulcinea has left the Benches.

Dulcinea has joined the fighting grounds.

Dulcinea sights and draws, aiming at her brother. "Also remember I don't have the armor and bow you promised me, so you're injuring me at a terrible disadvantage that's entirely your own doing. You monster."

Sparte seems to have an edge on Merek - that being that he can dooooooooodge. Offering the other guardsman help up when the hand is held up to yield, Sparte gives Merek a big grin. "Was good to spar you again. Keep practicing that footwork."

"Yes, I also need to be able to hit a bit harder, granted we're using high quality weapons, and I have much better for real combat. Still a good test, well fought," Merek tells Sparte, as if debating what he needs to improve the most. He allows Sparte to help him up, and clasps him on the shoulder.

    Ansel sloooowly stands, looking sidelong to his sister with a big old grin on his face. There's a chuckle low in his chest as he heads after her for the ring. "You sure about this?"

Ansel has left the Benches.

Ansel has joined the fighting grounds.

Dulcinea rolls her eyes. "What, you think I'm going to just GIVE you the match? I'm going to make you pay for it." She nods. "In guilt."

    Another quiet chuckle, as Ansel slowly reaches for his sword. "I know you will..." he syas.

Dulcinea takes moderate damage.

Ansel takes moderate damage.

Dulcinea takes critical damage.

Ansel takes moderate damage.

Dulcinea takes moderate damage.Dulcinea rolls stamina+willpower+survival against difficulty 19, getting 4.Dulcinea remains capable of fighting despite their wounds.

Ansel takes moderate damage.

Dulcinea takes serious damage.Dulcinea rolls stamina+willpower+survival against difficulty 44, getting -6.Dulcinea is incapacitated from their wounds.

Dulcinea falls unconscious.

Dulcie staggers. She sways. She coughs blood. "Annie..." she gasps, eyes brimming with tears. "Why....?" And she falls.

    Oh, he's -so- going to pay for this later. Ansel starts just as he has with the others: loose stance, sword held out at a shallow angle, tip brushing the ground. Then at the ready mark, he dashes forward, dropping his sword entirely, meaning to catch his sister with a football-style tackle, probably as he's done a thousand times growing up. He's not quick enough to avoid being caught by an arrow or two, but at least it's better than smacking his sister around with a sword, which would REALLY get him in trouble.

Dulcinea is obviously crushed by the football tackle... which is how she got all smooshed to death.

Silas watches the two siblings face each other. And suspects this will be a bittersweet victory for Ansel. He gestures for the Mercies to come forward and tend to the poor noblewoman. "You did your house proud, Lady Dulcinea! The next match, and the start of the semi-finals, is Lord Artorius and Dame Serafine! This ought to be fun to watch."

Artorius stood up again when his name was called, slowly moving his way back to the ring. He just ripped ut the last arrow from his shoulder too....this should be interesting.

Dulcinea snickers and stumbles off the field. "You're SO MEAN," she tells Ansel. "All my ribs are broken, you know. I'm going to tell Papa you broke ALL my RIBS."

    Ansel's smile is an apologetic one, and he's quick to roll off of his sister, letting the Mercies get over to her (because an elder brother + full plate armor on top of you at full speed really can't feel too great). He'll help her up once she's tended to, and make his way back over towards the bleachers.

Serafine stretches and stands, then moves to the fighting ring, hopping over the railing. She gives Artorius a grin, salutes him with her blade. "At your pleasure, my lord," says the Shav'arvani Knight.

Ansel has left the fighting grounds.

Ansel has joined the Benches.

Serafine has left the Benches.

Serafine has joined the fighting grounds.

Dulcinea has left the fighting grounds.

Dulcinea has joined the Benches.

Artorius smiled to Serafine, bowing lightly after unsheathing his greatsword and entering a stance, his signature one-handed grip as he stared daggers into Serafine, yet a smile still remained. "As you say, my Lady."

Serafine takes minor damage.

Artorius takes moderate damage.

Serafine takes minor damage.

Artorius takes minor damage.

Serafine takes serious damage.

Artorius takes moderate damage.

Serafine takes minor damage.

Artorius takes moderate damage.

Serafine takes minor damage.

Serafine takes minor damage.

Silas is overheard praising Calypso.

Serafine takes minor damage.

Silas is overheard praising Killian.

Artorius takes minor damage.

Serafine takes serious damage.

Serafine takes very serious damage.Serafine rolls stamina+willpower+survival against difficulty 70, getting -28.Serafine is incapacitated from their wounds.

Serafine falls unconscious.

Artorius duels with Serafine, meeting her blow for blow. While he manages to get some amazing strikes in, so does she on him. The two are meeting blow for blow, yet somehow Artorius manages to overcome his enemy once more, taking her down with a heavy blow of his swing. Felt like getting hit by a train, so Artorius was smart to turn the blade so she would get hit by the flat end.

Silas looks surprised when Serafine falls! But he's quick to whoop and clap for Artorius. "Well done, both of you! Lord Artorius triumphs and moves onto the championship round. He looks aside. "To determine his opponent, next up is Master Sparte versus Lord Ansel!"

Dulcinea blinks several times as Serafine goes down. Uhm. Falls. Is felled in battle. Her jaw drops open. "Annie," she says, nudging her brother, "I think I hit my head on something when you bull rushed me..."

Artorius lowered a hand to Serafine, "You did amazing. Let us fight again sometime." he smiled warmly

Serafine takes Artorius' hand with a grunt, smiling at him, the woman covered in sweat. "I usually do," she grins, "Even when I lose. That was well fought, my lord."

    "Are you alright, sister?" he asks, looking back to Dulcinea sidelong, reaching gently to check on her head, tender fingers looking for any bumps, bruises, or miscolorations.

Sparte winces as Serafine goes down, clapping for the close of the round. He glances over to Ansel, walking towards the ring. "I admit I'm feeling the last three rounds some still, but will try to make it interesting for you." He gives Ansel a salute, taking stance.

Artorius smiled to Serafine, "Excellent. and likewise, my Lady. I cannot wait until next we meet in a ring." he smiled

Serafine shakes her head with a laugh, pulling her helm from her head, exposing hair sticking to sweaty, copper-hued skin. "Dame or Knight, please, or even Serafine, if you are comfortable." She salutes him with her blade, sheathes it, and limps to the benches.

Serafine has left the fighting grounds.

Serafine has joined the Benches.

Ansel wields crimson mountains of The Telmarch Oathlands steel longsword.

Artorius moved to the benches after nodding to Sera "Serafine. Very well. You can call me what you wish, if it makes you comfortable." he smiled, returning to his former sitting spot on the bleaches, higher up than everyone else, moreso rather further. He took a sip of the whiskey Fiora left for him, setting it down to mentally prepare himself for another bout.

Ansel takes minor damage.

Sparte takes minor damage.

Ansel takes minor damage.

Sparte takes minor damage.

Sparte takes minor damage.

Serafine claps Artorius on the shoulder. "Arty, then."

Ansel takes minor damage.

Killian is sitting with Fiora, talking quietly, as Fiora indulges a very fluffy Frostbite with much pettings. The wolf looks like she approves of this.

Ansel takes minor damage.

Artorius laughed a little "That works. May I call you Sera?"

Sparte takes serious damage.

Ansel takes minor damage.

Looking up from the bout of whispering she'd fallen into, Fiora waves up to Artorius with a smile, "Excellent fight, Arty! Well done and well fought! I am eagerly waiting for your next turn, I am certain you will acquite yourself even better!" Looking back to Frostbite, she chuckles and continues dispensing the pettings happily.

Sparte takes minor damage.

Ansel takes serious damage.

Ansel takes serious damage.Ansel rolls stamina+willpower+survival against difficulty 18, getting 13.Ansel remains capable of fighting despite their wounds.

Ansel takes moderate damage.Ansel rolls stamina+willpower+survival against difficulty 37, getting 1.Ansel remains capable of fighting despite their wounds.

Artorius looks to Fiora, smiling a little. He looked BEAT UP but he was still moving like a speeding train. He bowed his head to Fiora "Thank you cousin. I will try to keep on going." he smiled a little. sitting down somewhat painedly.

Sparte takes serious damage.

Serafine nods to Artorius. "Sera works fine," she agrees.

Artorius or at least his body was, his face looked pretty much normal minus a few cuts and a single bruise on the side of his neck.

Ansel takes moderate damage.Ansel rolls stamina+willpower+survival against difficulty 58, getting -37.Ansel is incapacitated from their wounds.

Ansel falls unconscious.

Ansel has left the Benches.

Ravana the tawny eagle have been dismissed.

Silas cheers his guardsman on during the incredibly close match-up! Sparte seems to be getting hit more often than hitting his opponent, but the latter half of the fight swings in the commoner guard's favor and he manages to pull off the win. Silas whoops again and claps. "Great fight! Master Sparte wins, and will now go on to challenge his colleague, Dame Serafine! Whoever wins this match will face off against Lord Artorius for the championship, to decide who wins the first Fight Night!"

"Late to the party," Agnarr observes, but nonetheless he finds a spot to watch, settling down on a bench by the pits.

Dulcinea gasps, biting her lip and wincing. She quits the stands and runs down to the rail, then ducks under to help her brother stand. "Ouch then?" she asks. QUITE out, apparently. The Mercy has to also assist the punch-drunk Lord Telmar from the field. He's out for the season, coach.

Serafine stands and stretches again, the woman looking a little tired. She gestures to Sparte as she makes for the ring. "C'mon, my friend. Let's slap each other around for our Lord-Commander's happiness, mm?" She winks at Silas.

Serafine has left the Benches.

Serafine has joined the fighting grounds.

2 Iron Guardsmen have been dismissed.

1 Iron Guardsmen have been dismissed.

Sparte is looking pretty tired by the end of the fight, but he manages to pull it through with a crossguard slam into Ansel while they think they're inside his radius. When Serafine walks right up and Sparte is still breathing heavy he gives her a one second gesture with his hand, walking over to the mercies while dragging his sword. Commandeering something that looks like a salve, he takes a massive gollop out of it and rubs some behind his ears and dumps the rest down the back of his neck. The resulting shivers and involuntary punches he throws at the air says that probably wasn't to make him feel better, just to wake him up. Leaving behind some probably alarmed mercies, Sparte drags his sword over to take a ready stance facing Serafine. "Right, well, same Lord beat both of us. Let's see who is standing for the rematch."

Fiora has left the Benches.

Sparte takes serious damage.

Killian stands up and glances towards the mischief still being worked upon the training grounds. "Someone send me a corgi and let me know who wins, won't you?" he asks the rest, as he gathers his entourage of pets and stretches, sighing. "Lord Commander, you and I need to spar again sometime soon..for now duty calls at least one of us," he apologizes as he moves to make his own exit.

Agnarr has joined the Benches.

Sparte takes minor damage.

Sparte takes minor damage.

Silas looks up from his scroll, at Killian, grinning wryly. "Can do on both counts, Lord Ashford. Be well."

Sparte takes moderate damage.

Serafine takes minor damage.

Sparte takes serious damage.

Killian has left the Benches.

Whisper the Snowy Owl, Frostbite the Wolf leave, following Killian.

Sparte takes minor damage.

Sparte takes moderate damage.Sparte rolls stamina+willpower+survival against difficulty 18, getting 35.Sparte remains capable of fighting despite their wounds.

Sparte takes moderate damage.Sparte rolls stamina+willpower+survival against difficulty 41, getting 14.Sparte remains capable of fighting despite their wounds.

Sparte takes serious damage.Sparte rolls stamina+willpower+survival against difficulty 97, getting -42.Sparte is incapacitated from their wounds.

Sparte falls unconscious.

Serafine dances around Sparte, having found her second or fifth wind, dodging his strikes, getting under his defenses. She's mostly serious now, probably tired, but- ...well. When the fight ends, she sheathes her blade and offers Sparte a hand, grinning at him, the woman breathless. "Well done, messere."

The next fight... ends up being incredibly lopsided. Silas squints as he watches, as though he genuinely could not figure out what just happened. "Well, you gave it your best try, Sparte. I think Serafine is -really- itching for the rematch." And gestures. "And she will get it! Lord Artorius versus Dame Serafine for the championship!"

Artorius smiled at the fight, not really focused on who he would be fighting afterwards, he claps and cheers "Well done! both of you!"

It isn't a very bad fight. Sparte at least hits Serafine, right? Once. Then he is laid out, about twice as badly as Artorius laid him out earlier. The mercies rush in, check his vitals, and reassure everyone he is still breathing. He may be muttering something about how purple tastes as they drag him off to recover.

Serafine looks a little guilty, then looks over at Artorius. "Seems we get our second match!"

Artorius stood up from the bleachers, coming back down to fight his last match of the night. He walked as if he was uninjured, the human resiliency tank hopping into the ring. He draws his greatsword from it's sheathe and tosses it aside, and remarkably, he puts both hands on the hilt of his blade, pointing it in a slanted direction at Serafine after making a salute to her "Indeed! Fight with all you've got!" he smiled, but was focused. Incredibly so.

Artorius takes minor damage.

Artorius takes minor damage.

Dulcinea has left the Benches.

Serafine takes serious damage.

Serafine takes moderate damage.

Artorius takes very serious damage.

Serafine takes minor damage.

Serafine takes critical damage.Serafine rolls stamina+willpower+survival against difficulty 40, getting 0.Serafine is incapacitated from their wounds.

Serafine falls unconscious.

Merek has left the fighting grounds.

Aneka, Meeka leave, following Merek.

Artorius with two hands on his sword..Shit just got really freaking real for Serafine. He is able to duel her one on one as they did before with an extraordinarily intimidating disply of martial might and swordsmanship. However, it was like a switch turned on in his head, as he was taking various good hits from Serafine, he came back at her and gave her back double what she gave him. With a powerful swing of the flat end of his blade in an overhand motion aimed for her shoulder, he hits her with the force of a freaking landslide. Arty packs a punch!

Artorius *with what felt like a force*

Serafine manages to meet Arty point for point for a while, and then he lands a blow that knocks her to her knees. She staggers, falls, knocked out. Healers rush in, help the woman back to her feet. She groans and sits up, gives Arty a wobbly salute and a smile. "...well done." She looks to Silas. "...can I g'home now?"

"Ooow. Please don't murder my guardswoman!" Silas pleas when he sees that last hit land. Serafine didn't stand a chance. He bows his head, but quickly perks up and gives a round of applause. "Lord Artorius is Fight Night's first champion! Congratulations, m'lord!" He turns to Serafine and winces. "Yes. Get some rest, Serafine. You did excellent."

Artorius planted his greatsword into the ground so that it stayed upright. He knelt to Serafine "You fought well. Please, get rest. I am certain you will defeat me next time. Train hard!" he smiled helping her up with the Mercies before looking to Silas, chuckling a little nervously, scratching the back ofh is head "...sorry about that." he smiled warmly though.

%"Over, then? Been wanting a match with the champion," Agnarr wonders Silas's way as he eyes the victor Artorius after a glean over Serafine's fallen self.

Serafine does applaud Arty, most of her wooziness is for show, but she does have issues with standing; takes her a little longer, but she manages. She claps a hand on Arty's shoulder, then goes to Silas and kisses his cheek, pats him on the butt, and heads out, pausing to give Agnarr the finger, cheerfully, snagging a messenger and paying the poor man to send a message to Leta to meet her somewhere and walk her home.

Serafine has left the fighting grounds.

Griza leaves, following Serafine.

Silas turns to Agnarr and nods. "Aye, Lord Artorius won the tournament. He wasn't eliminated even once." He grins to the mercenary. "He may be a worthy adversary."

Silas also blinks at the kiss and butt patt.

Wrangling another messenger to send a retort to Serafine after she's departed, Agnarr shakes his head and dusts off his front.

Artorius looked upward for a moment, tiredness on his features. "Well...that was excellent practice." he sighed, resting his hand on the pommel of his blade for a moment, looking to Silas and bowing "Thank you for hosting this tournament. It allowed me to test my skills! I am indebted to you."

Silas smiles at Artorius and stands to return the bow. "You honored us by attending, Lord Malvici. I look forward to seeing you compete again in the future." He picks up the scroll he used to sketch out the brackets, tucking it underneath his arm. "I'll keep a record of past winners and tune up the rules a bit. I wish to do this regularly." His gaze flickers over to Agnarr. "Maybe attach prize money. We'll see."

Artorius hoisted the blade out of the ground when he felt like it and placed it in it's sheathe, which he placed on his back by a strap, which he tightened. He smiled to Agnarr and Silas "I wish you both a goodnight, thank you once more for allowing me to test my skills. This was good training." he bowed again, before turning to make his way out.

"Rematch next time, then," Agnarr supposes to Artorius, lifting his gauntlet towards the lord before settling back down.

Estaban claps his hands, "Congrats, Lord Artorius." he stands up stretching a bit looking about, he knows how it feels to be hit by Artorius blade.

"I should be off, too," Silas admits, sheepishly. "I can't stay away from the Barracks for too long, these days. Be well, m'lord." He turns towards Estaban and Agnarr. "I will see you two again soon, I'm sure. Be careful until then!" And with that, the Lord Commander strolls out of the Training Center.