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

6 Crimson Blades Sergeant arrives, following Tobias.

Prince Aiden Grayson, a young figure cutting in fighting leathers, stands within the center of the ring of valor, so that he can be seen by all, no matter their placement. Flanking him is a Grayson Guard contingent of at least twenty, in neat rows behind him. As the time of the event grows near, there is a brief triumpet to call forth the attention of those who have already arrived and begin to settle. As the bugle fades away, Aiden takes one step forward to give rise to the idea that he would speak. His chest inflates with air and he looks up toward the audience, "Tonight, is about courage. Tonight, is about actions. Tonight, is about bravery and strength, not only in arms, but in our hearts." He gives a pragmatic pause, "The siege has taken a toll on many of us, in ways that are too numerous to count. The stories that will come out of this war, too many to document, too few to preserve the memories, and already hundreds lost to what might have been." He moves a few paces, looking toward the Champion's table, then upward toward the upper rafters, then back toward the ring side tables, "There was one story among the thousands that brings us together tonight, for in the simple actions of a few, a Grayson's life was spared."

Calaudrin would be remiss to not show up to an event that he was at least sort of expected to show up to! The man arrives in his armor (clean armor) and other Iron Guard trappings. From anywhere that his shirt can be seen underneath the steel is a flash of new, fresh green. He arrives, his feet carrying him towards the bar. There isn't a drink ordered yet, instead he stands quietly to listen to Prince Aiden speak his words.


    Waiting outside the arena, though not seated yet is a woman looking to be aroudn her late twenties wearing simple and functional clothes to allow freedom of movement with a set of Redrain-styled lamellar covering her torso. Vena's hair is pulled back by a headband to keep her hair out of her face and she carries no obvious weapons, not even more subtle ones as she has no hairpins of any type.


1 Nightgold Household Guards arrives, following Mydas.

Mischief the monkey, Mirrormask Woman arrive, following Remi.

Remi arrives, following Valencia.

Silas occupies the prestigious champion's table. He takes a strange interest in its craftmanship, but when Aiden projects his voice in his speech the Lord Commander politely raises his gaze towards the Grayson prince. He quirks a small smile at the speech, half proud and half amused. He was in his suit of rubicund, which gleamed a subtle crimson hue in the light of the arena. Calaudrin was given a small wave from his seat when the man is spotted.

Ariel was carefully sitting at the Champions table wearing her sparkling green gown with matching shawl and all other accessories. She moves gracefully towards Aiden as she asks "would you like to me to help you keep track?"

Mydas has joined the corner table.

As traditional these days, Tobias is wearing his blood red armor and crimson cape. His helm is off for now as he occupies his own Champions table seat. Six Crimson Blades in full kit stand in a semi-circle behind him at attention as the Lord General leans back and listens.

Valencia enters the room with Archlector Vanyne, Princess Ann, Lord Edward and Prince Remi. She smile brightly at the gathering crowd, offering Prince Aiden a particularly radiant smile. "I am so very pleased to see so many wondeful guests her for Prince Aiden's event." Glance across the room she gives Lady Ariel a little wink before moving into the room a little deeper to greet the Prince. "Princes Aiden, welcome to my Hart. I am so very glad you are hosting here.. Whatever you need, please ask. We wish to make you and your guest very happy and comfortable. Ask, and it is yours."

Fiora has joined the corner table.

Mydas heads for one of the corner tables, after ordering himself a bottle of whiskey. Because of course a northern man would order whiskey, what did anyone expect? He is otherwise quite happy to merely watch the going-ons.

Tobias has joined the Champions' table.

Baltus leans against the wall observing and listening to the rules of the event

Rickard stands off to one side, leaning against a wall, cleaning his weapon in preparation for the day's festivities. He lazily glances around, eyeballing the others in the room, seemingly not inclined to position himself near any one area in particular as of yet. He orders a bottle of whiskey himself, and downs it in a few glugs, setting the bottle off to one side out of the way.

Vayne arrives with Valencia and company into the arena to watch the event, hands clasped behind his back. "Your hospitality is impeccable as always, Princess Valencia. Thank you for hosting." He glances aside to Ann. "'Imposing' will do. It's wonderful to see you again, Princess Ann. How are you?"

Calaudrin hmms quietly to himself before taking up a full glass of ale from the bar. From there he wanders closer to the Champions table. He doesn't take a seat yet, instead lingering at the edges while watching people arrive. Silas' wave has drawn his attention and meanders a bit closer. "Sir." Some of his focus goes to Rickard and how quickly he downs his bottle of whiskey. He looks impressed.

Sparte comes in sans his armor, but still wearing the insignia of the iron guard. He glances around uncertainly, with the look of someone walking into a trap. Or a family gathering.

Aiden casts his voice toward the stands, his voice standing firm, "Our story, was on a day no different than this, as I was seeking out a renowned leather worker of the Lowers, when a party of unfortunate souls, burdened by the siege, sought to reduce themselves to desperate measures. What drove them to such lengths, we won't know. Greed, is the likely cause, for they failed to be intimidated by the badges of Iron Guard, Crimson Blade, or even the Valorous Few."
He slowly walks back around the ring, nodding once to Ariel, "Taken at knife point, my life was put in the hands of those incapable of looking beyond silver in which they placed at greater value than my life. It was only the quick thinking of bystanders and the good graces of Gloria, which put the honorable men in the way of darker forces, and it is to them, whom I am ever indebted." He pauses, "Should you like to hear more of this story, I encourage you to freely approach /my/ champions. Otherwise, I'm sure, there are like I said, a thousand more stories spinning around this city, sadly, not all that we can recognize this night."
In short, he puts up a hand, "The few we can hear. Perhaps, those who grace this Ring of Valor, can speak, to some valor they have personally witnessed, before they give themselves over to the Rite of Gloria that will be on show for us tonight."

Fiora moves quietly into the room, pausing off to the side once more to take another look around. Gaining her bearings. Looking for potential entrances and exits, debating the likelihood of anyone here not being human. In the end, she offers a nod and brief smile to Silas before making her way over to the corner table Mydas has seated himself at, joining the lord at the out of the way table. She offers him a brief smile and murmured, "Good evening. Fancy meeting you here. I wasn't aware that you were coming tonight." Lifting her head, she offers a small wave towards Rickard as the man seems determined to put himself boots up.

Edward breaks from the group inside to walk over to the bar where he stands. He motions to the barkeep and speaks to him, getting his order in, before he turns and leans back against the bartop, looking out at the tables and then to the arena.

Ann enters just behind her sister-in-law, happy enough to stay in Valencia's proverbial shadow. The woman wears a simple gown of Redrain red, her raven curls escaping a ribbon of the same color. "Archlector, and you. I'm doing well enough. Working my way through several treatises at the moment," she lofts the book she holds in one hand. "In case I should find a quiet moment tonight. Are you going to compete here, Archlector?"

"It was more impulse than a decision of mine." Mydas answers Fiora, greeting her with the raise of his glass of whiskey. "Good to see you here, Milady. Will you be participating?" he grins.

Grazia has joined the upper rafters.

Rickard has joined the bar.

Edward has joined the bar.

Remi steps in with Valencia, the man leaning in close to mention something to her after her words to Aiden before he is looking out over the arena and finally to the champions table. His gaze flitting from face to face, In the end though he turns his focus back towards Ann hearing mention of her book. "Ya know lass, Ya go for drinks most don't bring books. Think ya be the first seen do that.."

Silas leans in to Calaudrin and smirks. "Master Calaudrin," he greets with a nod. "I'm glad you're here to join the festivities in your honor." His gaze flickers to Fiora when she wanders by and Silas returns the nod and smile. He stands when Aiden announces the commencement of the fun part: fighting! He adjusts his gauntlets and approaches the ring of valor.


    Vena remains to the side, though her attention is largely on Aiden as he recounts the tale of what led to this event. Valencia however is offered a warm smile and polite wave. Though she is unarmed ther armor and body language suggests she's here to fight, even if her loose and functional clothing hides any signs of how capable she might be. The high quality of the armor and the fact it appears to have been used quite a bit suggests she is no newcomer.


Glancing towards the speechmaking with a brief flash of horror appearing across those features actually visible, Fiora is quick to shake her head. She murmurs aside to Mydas, "I am no speechmaker. Besides, I have not been back in the city long enough to have any tales impressive enough to share. But if they wish to have another contest of battle.. I am game to participate."

This is all happening so quickly. Calaudrin takes a healthy swallow of his ale to fortify himself before pushing off the corner of the table he was leaning against. To Silas: "Oh, you know. Wouldn't miss something like this for the world." His drawl is indulgently wry as he too approaches the ring.

The Archlector smiles bemusedly. "The Rites of Gloria require far more time put to practice with the sword than I have ever undertaken," Vayne tells Ann. "Gloria is due far more respect than I could properly give Her." He nods to the treatise. "Ever learning, very commendable. Do keep it up."

Valencia smiles to see Vena and cheerfully returns the smile and wave. Dark eyes dancing, she quietly answers Remi's question and turns to find a seat. A quick look around tells her that the Hart's staff are in full swing and all will be well taken care of and so she looks to find a seat to watch the proceedings. The little raven haired fox glances up at the rafter for a brief moment and looks a little tempted. In the end, though, she leads Ann, Remi and Edward, if he choses to join them, to the ringside table.

Valencia has joined the ringside table.

"Give it some time, and I'm sure we'll make an orator out of you yet." Mydas replies to Fiora easily. "Well, we'll see won't we? It seems we must have tales first." And to this end, Mydas turns to pay attention to the ring, and if any of the challengers will dare tell a tale. Apparently it's going to be the biggest challenge of the night.

Vayne has joined the ringside table.

Remi has joined the ringside table.

Grazia has left the upper rafters.

Ann smiles like a proud student might do, in Vayne's direction, turning her gaze back to Remi. "There is never a bad time for a book," she says, a motto if ever there was one, for Ann Redrain. She starts to slip away for a moment, telling them, "I'm for the bar, save me a seat? Can I bring you back a drink, anyone?"

Now that a table has been chosen Edwards turns to the bar to take the two bottles of rum and the stacked glasses. He then leans up and walks over to the ringside table where he sets a bottle in front of Remi and then the other down in front of him at his table across from the Princess. He settles the glasses down and unstacks them.

Edward has left the bar.

Fiora shoots Mydas a look. "Bite your tongue, Mydas Nightgold. I am a warrior, not a talespinner. I leave the pretty words to you and Inigo.. and Hadrian, when he feels like it."

Edward has joined the ringside table.

"And damage one of my finest attributes? Never." Mydas replies to Fiora, smirking. "But as you wish. Alas, while I can spin a tale, I've no fighting skill to speak of. So I suppose we best hope a brave or lucky soul combining both qualities will step up soon, mm?" He takes another drink from his whiskey, golden eyes moving upon the room, watching the faces gathered there.

Aiden checked composure at difficulty 15, rolling 4 higher.

Rickard moves to the bar, settles in, and orders another bottle of whiskey. Glug glug it goes, just like the first. He stretches, preparing for a good fight.

Aiden is approached by one of the assistants, nodding thoughtfully, before he continues. "Tonight, we have been welcomed among friends. I must give thanks to our venue, the Golden Hart, and Princess Valencia, for allowing us to come together this night and praise those who's actions we've seen, carry on our fighting spirits." His hand comes out to point out Valencia, before he bows to her gracefully, cause he's practiced this in a mirror a thousand times before tonight.
Straightening out, face is totally warm but the mocha hides it all, clearing his throat, "The Grayson Guards have long since protected those of my House, but they feel as if they failed the day that I was endangered and have given themselves to the rite of Gloria as well, to be those to whom our contenders will fight against. The rules, are straight forward. Fight, until you can not fight any longer. Or until blood has been drawn upon you." His arm swings toward the arena, "Every five minutes, another Grayson Guard will step in to confront our would-be-champions of the night, signifying the difficulties and challenges that we face."
He looks ... was he green under the gills? No, not possible. Aiden licks his lips, "Master Calaudrin, was one who rescued me and tonight, he'll stand to prove himself once more. Let the games, begin." He manages to hold himself upright as he steps out of the ring.

Calaudrin steps up for his entrance, scoffing his armored foot against the ground before speaking. He clears his throat. "After the enemy had arrived, when we first began the siege: I was stationed on the ramparts to keep watch with my fellow guardsmen and a smattering of others. Notable amongst them was Dame Esoka Greenblood and Lady Dulcinea Telmar. We fought hard and some people decided to listen to me. A decision I'm sure they were regretting after I nearly burned myself alive mid-fight. The two women were the most impressive, choosing to launch themselves at the Bringer we were battling and slaying the thing up close. Much braver than myself. I stayed up on the wall, fanning my foot and plucking away with arrows. Much like I'm going to do tonight. Minus the fire. I promise." Seriously, he doesn't have any matches on him right now. Everyone should be safe. And now, he steps into the ring to probably get beaten up!

Griza arrives, following Serafine.

Serafine arrives, following Leta.

"Tales from this siege, or in general?" Tobias asks goodnaturely as he starts to drink some wine from his wine glass. A gauntleted hand comes up, and the bodyguards behind Tobias move to stand at ease. "I've got plenty of both." As everyone gets started, Tobias looks to Valencia, "Looks like you pulled all th goodies out for this one, Princess. This is good stuff." He winks at her, before Tobias turns to Silas. "Now, I have to ask; did you decide on the name, or did the Graysons?"


    Vena finally decides to speak up and says, "I'm not sure if it counts as daring, but the mothers of the city likely understands me. It isn't easy for a formerly wed mother from commoner stock to protect their daughter in times like these. Fortunately I've been able to keep my own from the attacks but I tell you it isn't easy to keep her fed and happy. I don't know whether to fear the Bringers more or my little girl when boys start coming around." with a good-natured and warm smile as her nose scrunches teasingly to go along with her almost giggly tone. It might not really be something to honor Gloria, but if her story is true, does she even have any stories of daring do?
    She then grows silent as Aiden addresses the crowd once more, smiling brighter to Valencia as she is pointed out, she then nods to Aiden as the rules are explained.


Calaudrin checked dexterity + archery at difficulty 15, rolling 23 higher.

Calaudrin steps into the ring, facing off against his first appointment. He pulls his bow up, nocks an arrow and hits his opponent in a spot on his armor meant to give him a solid case of dead arm. Probably.

Silas turns to Tobias, half still listening to Aiden but hearing the man's question. "I did. It was initially supposed to be Hawkwood but I thought the Hawkmours may dislike that..." His gaze goes to Calaudrin now, as he faces off against a Grayson guard. The Lord Commander gives a loud cheer. "GET 'EM CAL!"

Vayne shakes his head to Ann, declining the offer of a drink and saving her a seat with some careful positioning of tableware to make it appear occupied.

Calaudrin checked dexterity + archery at difficulty 20, rolling 41 higher.

Two opponents now. Both still approaching, Calaudrin fires off two more shots to slow their advance on him. Landing solidly. He backs up slowly and carefully, keeping them in his sights.

Calaudrin checked dexterity + archery at difficulty 25, rolling 11 higher.

Aiden has joined the Champions' table.

Three Grayson Guards. One is approaching from off to the side, so Calaudrin's attention becomes split betwen the three of them. The arena doesn't have too many good places to get a vantage point, so they're still oncoming.

Calaudrin has rolled a critical success!
Calaudrin checked dexterity + archery at difficulty 30, rolling 18 higher.

Four! That's the sound of Cal beginning to sweat it, being forced now to move as the guards get within swinging reach of him. He twists and side-steps to regain distance.

Aiden slips out of the spotlight, looking a bit flushed doing so. He makes his way with a few head bobs and nods to people in passing, coming alongside Ariel, "Yes, help me judge and keep track." He hurries to take a seat so that all eyes can be drawn inward to the Ring of Valor. His part, seems to be finished for now.

Calaudrin checked dexterity + archery at difficulty 35, rolling 27 higher.

Fiora shakes her head with a soft chuckle and murmurs towards Mydas, "That is something of the point, yes. I am sure the others have many more... valorous deeds than I could offer. Standing watch on the wall through an uneventful night hardly makes for riveting tales of glory and valor worthy of the Gods." She motions towards the Champion's table and continues in low tones, "Look at those gathered. Those are true Champions. I am nobody's idea of a Champion. I will stick to my place and watch from here, honor them in my own way." Turning back to the ring, she watches with interest as Calaudrin continues to impress with his ability to avoid the guards while holding his own.

Calaudrin shoots arrows at some instead of others, attempting to create confusion among his five attackers. It's working for now! And he's just fast enough to keep out of reach. Until someone actually hits him, Cal kicks that guy right in the knee before skittering away again.

Leta walks in with Serafine on her arm, with the subtlest of hip bumps as she comes upon the scene and looks curiously about. The sellsword's rather more heavily dressed than the Princess, even wearing light armor, but it's new and the padded cloth is a bright, untouched unfaded blue. She struts ahead past the entrance, with a ready smile, offering nods about as she takes in the crowd and the show in the arena.

Calaudrin checked dexterity + archery at difficulty 35, rolling 14 lower.

The little raven haired princess smiles sweetly back to Prince Aiden and nods warmly and very graciouly, placing a delicate hand to her heart as her cheeks flush. Her dark eyes catch Vena's smile and she offers the lovely woman one in turn, dark eyed dancing. Valencia smiles again at Tobias' compliment on the Hart's most excellent work on the feast and service. "It is our greatest honour to honour you and all those who walk through our doors, my lord. I am so glad that you approve, though," she smiles back to him, her cheeks turning a little pink. "I hope that this means we will see much more of you in our Hart, yes?"

Calaudrin checked dexterity + archery at difficulty 40, rolling 4 lower.

Baltus claps one hand against his arm in appreciation of Calaudrin's effort.

Apparently taking the time to kick that last guy was a /mistake/ because there's another guy behind him! This guy promptly takes him out and lays him flat. Very slowly and with almost comedic affect, the Iron Guard archer will just slowly drag himself off to the side. Don't mind him. Then he'll set up. "Can I have my beer back?"


Serafine removes her coat and takes Leta's arm, the inked woman's body exposed more than usual, showcasing the scars and tattoos that cover her from jawline to toes. With her back bare and her arms too, she's an interesting sight. Her dark hair is up in a series of intricate braids, bangle flicking on her wrist as she reaches up to brush fondly at Leta's shoulder. She takes the hip check with a chuckle.


    Vena gives an applause for Calaudrin and calls out, "Well done, it isn't easy to face a half dozen opponents alone at the same time!"


"It is if they're zombies!" Tobias quips back.

Vayne sets down his glass of rum and politely applauds for Calaudrin's skill at arms and honor to Gloria.

Ann was going to go to the bar, at least, but seeing Edward return back with an armload of booze, the Scholar instead opts to follow her sister-in-law to the ringside table, slipping into a chair to watch the combatants.

Ann has joined the ringside table.

Silas applauds Calaudrin's attempt. "Very well done!" For an archer, especially, in his eyes. He might have a -slight- bias. "Don't remember where you put your beer, though..."

The display in the Ring of Valor captivated, for it wasn't often that an archer had the spotlight! Here, Master Calaudrin was rewarded with applause after his showing, managing to keep five Grayson Guards off him, with the sixth, tipping the scales too far. The Grayson Guards give him a proper salute for his showing and then fresh ones ready for the next contender. "Lord Commander, Sir Silas Whitehawk" is the announcement from an assistant who has taken over duties for Prince Aiden Grayson.

"Give it time. You'll have people calling you a Champion of something sooner or later. You have the right skills for it." Mydas remarks to Fiora before turning his gaze to the fight, nodding when Calaudrin reaches his limit. "Well done." he agrees, taking another drink of whiskey. Apparently quite happy to merely spectate.


The Shav'Arvani Knight, as she is called, spots her cousin Valencia in the ground, Serafine grinning as Valencia shows all the restraint of a puppy upon spotting them. She winks and tugs on Leta's arm over towards the pretty little Redrain-Velenosan. "Look, there's Valencia, let's go say hello-?"

"Need to get better with the sword before I die.." Calaudrin mutters up at Silas before hauling himself to his feet. Those guards hit hard! Then he wanders off to the bar to get a new drink before returning. Cupping his one hand to his mouth he shouts: "Kick some ass! Lord Commander Baron Sir Silas!" At which point, he drops down into seat and waves at anyone still applauding him.

Silas inhales slowly and steps into the ring, nodding his acknowledgement to Aiden. He was still getting used to the new, self-chosen name. Calaudrin's overlong string of titles makes him snicker under his breath, however. He unsheathes his steel blade, which he had blunted in anticipation for this event. No permanently maiming Grayson guards for him!

Silas checked dexterity + medium wpn at difficulty 15, rolling 45 higher.

"There we will have to disagree. My skillset is... best utilized in a manner not so... visible. I am not at my best when facing another in open combat," Fiora responds quietly before turning her attention back to the ring. She smiles faintly and offers a round of applause for Calaudrin to aquit himself so well. She looks back to Mydas and murmurs, "I daresay folk will call *you* a Champion before it is said of me, my lord."

Leta leans in towards Serafine for a moment, while her eyes stray back to the ring, and she nods, a hand resting lightly on the inked Princess's arm. "Sure thing. Get a better view from the fighting over there, too. And me without any fighting left in me." the solid woman in the big hat comments with a friendly, as she starts walking over in Valencia's direction. "Your Highness, how are you? It's - looking like a good crowd for the contest and such."

Serafine has joined the ringside table.

"No, I don't think so." Mydas shakes his head. "My role is to make certain the soldiers have what they need when the time comes for battle and war. Hardly what makes one enter the history books or legend. And if I'm honest, it suits me fine." the golden-eyed nobleman answers to Fiora before returning his attention to the fight.

Silas fights off the first guard with relative ease as the man lunges at him. He moves confidently, anticipating his opponent's moves before they finish and countering appropriately, though usually with the flat of his blade. He advances onto the next...

Silas checked dexterity + medium wpn at difficulty 20, rolling 41 higher.

"And that is exactly my point as well, milord." Fiora concurs as an aside before she reaches across and not-so-subtly pulls his bottle of whiskey across to hfill her own glass. All while watching Silas competing in the ring with a faint smile.

As Calaudrin mangles the titles Silas now bears thoroughly, Tobias gives a great big laugh. "Need to work on your delivery there." Tobias gives to Calaudrin before he drinks down some more wine, watching the Lord Commanders fight.

The little fox could not be happier to see her beloved cousin Serafine and Leta arrive, barely waiting for them to arrive at the table before jumping up to greet them with such enthusiasm it may likely have knocked them over if they did not expect it. "Sera!!! Lovely Leta!!! You are here! Sit! Sit! You must watch this. Everyone is so very impressive tonight. Do you know everyone?" she asks as the find seats at the table.

Valencia claims this

Ariel is taking note upon the parchment how each person is doing. Next to each person's name and noting how well each one did. A smile is almost constantly curling her lips. Her pen moving quite gracefully.

The next guardsman fares only marginally better than his friend! Silas adds a kick to throw the poor man off-balance before planting him in the metaphorical dust.

Silas checked dexterity + medium wpn at difficulty 25, rolling 24 higher.

Leta has joined the ringside table.

Silas smacks the next guard who advances on him under the chin with his gauntlet before swinging his blade down on his back when the momentum of the blow gets the better of him.

Thena is either fashionably late or has been spending some quality time with the buffet; at any rate the guard materializes near the fighting area when it's M'Lord Commander Silas' turn at the guards. The slender girl in a plain dark charcoal-gray dress with no adornment but the Iron Guard crest, eyes lined with kohl, lifts the chicken leg she has grasped in one hand and shouts, "Kick some ass, My Lord!" This is followed by a whoop of delight as Silas opponent goes down.

Silas checked dexterity + medium wpn at difficulty 30, rolling 6 higher.

"I'd only need to work on my delivery if that wasn't intenional!" Calaudrin calls back over his shoulder to Tobias, stretching his legs out and getting a good stretch in. He lifts his glass of ale to his lips and takes a long generous swallow. The chairs near to him are unoccupied at the moment, a fact he takes advantage of by putting his foot on one of them. "Kick ass! You're better than all twenty of them!" Probably gets him a few looks from the rest of the Greyson Guard, but he's shameless. "Thena!" He callss when she shows up. On cue, he pulls out his case smokes and shakes them.

Silas creatively headbutts another guard after smacking him around a bit. He -might- be getting showy and using physical attacks on purpose. Maybe.

Silas checked dexterity + medium wpn at difficulty 35, rolling 11 higher.

Aiden looks over toward the tables that are filling up at the ringside, dabbing his face with a cloth though, apparently happy for the time being to settle at the Champion's table, looking across to Tobias, "Lord General Tobias," he greets, "I appreciate that you've come out to attend this evening. I hope, this is a small step in thanking you and your men for their aid. And the continued aid you give to the city, that, we all recognize." His eyes turn back toward the ring of valor, watching with interest to see how Sir Silas manages the challenge, a sudden little cheer, "Come on Silas!"


Serafine cups her hands around her mouth and hoots, "WORK IT HARD, LORD-COMMANDER! YOU ARE FUCKING BRILLIANT!" And then she turns back to her table to continue polite-volume conversation.

Leta sighs.

The last couple guards give him a tougher time than the previous batch, both due to his uptick in fatigue and due to greater skill. Silas grunts, and has to resort to legitimate dodging and swordfighting to get the one up over them. But he does eventually triumph!

Silas checked dexterity + medium wpn at difficulty 40, rolling 1 higher.

Mae Culler slips into the arena, looking a touch uncertain. The crowd of people. The nature of the venue. All of it has her not quite sure, but she's still there, the slight figure that she is, covered up in a ratty grey cloak. She enters just in time to hear Serafine yelling, and her eyes go wide. Mae silently debates retreat.

"Free wine on my off duty hours, and a bit of practice sparring. Not much reason to turn that down, Your Highness." Tobias smirks to Aiden, before he toasts to the man. "I don't get to party nearly as often as I'd like with my work, but I appreciate these events."

Sam the Grayson guard is far tougher than he looks. He matches the Lord Commander blow to blow for a good bit, until a hard hit to the gut sends him sprawling. Silas relieves a crick in his shoulder as he moves onto the next.

Silas checked dexterity + medium wpn at difficulty 45, rolling 12 higher.

Tim wasn't as good as Sam, but he was far more opportunistic. He gets Silas good a few times, taking advantage of his obvious fatigue and being more aware of where the squishier bits were, but in the end he overextends his attack and gets walloped over the head with the hilt of Silas's blade.

Silas checked dexterity + medium wpn at difficulty 50, rolling 2 higher.

Thena performs a victory-punch, still with the chicken leg in hand, and then hears her name and possibly cigarettes rattling and wheels away from the fighting ring, making her way over to where Calaudrin's seated though tossing a delighted look at Serafine while in transit. By the time she makes it to a chair she's finished off and abandoned her snack and seats herself, ladylike, next to him. "Good evening, Office Estardes."

Judith could probably kick Sam and Tim's asses, but she ultimately meets the same fate they do. Her reach with her spear gives her a momentary advantage, but Silas quickly closes it and it was over. His blade lands harshly against her shoulder, sending her into the dirt with her friends.

Mydas has left the corner table.

1 Nightgold Household Guards leaves, following Mydas.

Silas checked dexterity + medium wpn at difficulty 55, rolling 4 lower.

There is a general thrum of the audience that increases each time that Sir Silas manages to fend off another Grayson Guard which joins in with his fellows to take on the Lord Commander. There is certainly many appreciating sighs in the audience too.

Bruce ends up being the one to lay the Lord Commander flat on his ass with a good sweep of his giant waraxe. Silas lays there for a long moment, groaning and sweaty. "Urgh... well at least I've made the rest of you have to work at it." He gets to his feet and dusts himself off. "Good luck," he murmurs to the next contestants as he departs from the ring of valor.

Vayne sets down his rum again and applauds for Silas' valiant effort and honor to Gloria.


    Vena claps louder as the second match comes to an end, showing clear respect to Silas.


Calaudrin is lighting up his first smoke when Thena finally makes her way over to him. "Fucking fantastic work, sir!" He calls out to the commander when he's departing. Taking a deep inhale of the smokey stuff, he hands his little case over to Thena. This hand-off is becoming old at. "Remind me to never piss him off. I'd like to keep my head attached to my body, alright?"

Rickard has left the bar.

Mae gives one more look around the place, then starts over to the ringside table.

Mae has joined the ringside table.

With her erstwhile companion departing, Fiora can't help but smile over Silas finally getting laid out by *eight* of his own men. She offers applause and a smile before taking up the bottle that Mydas so nicely left behind for her and stands. She starts towards the Champion's table, intent on offering Silas congratulations in the form of a free drink!

Ariel happily announces "Lord Commander Silas is the current champion. Following by Master Calaudrin. Who shall be next to see whom will become the next champion." Her eyes seeking out the next contender with her pen ready to start keeping track once more..

The excitement of the action complies steadily, until it's obvious that the Grayson Guards have got the man surrounded, though not before under a dozen have had to enter the ring to offer proper challenge! Picking themselves up from the arena, the Grayson Guards offer their salute in turn to Sir Silas, showing proper respect as dust is shook off. The guards take their place back among the line up, while fresh guards ready up for the next challenger to the ring. It appears, Lord General Tobias of the Crimson Blades is up next, to tell stories if has one prior to his fight!


Serafine looks at her Leta, lips twitching with amusement. "I swear, Leta Herbert Broadbent, I will pick my nose right here at this table if you don't -relax-!" she says, merriment in her eyes, laughter edging her husky voice.

Silas smiles sheepishly at the applause he acquires for his performance when he arrives back at the Champion's table. When Fiora wanders over to offer him a free drink, the Lord Commander happily takes her up on the offer and accepts the bottle if it's presented. "Thank you very much, Lady Fiora. I will need to return the favor." A good friend is the one who gives you free booze when you're beat up.

Valencia offers he applauds, her dark eyes flashing with delight. The little princess glances to the Hart's staff to make sure that all is well. More than satisfied she settles down in her chair again as the guests at the ringside table converse. She look over to Prince Aiden and smiles brightly and then looks over to Lady Ariel calls out the winners. Dark eyes soon find Silas and then Calaudrin and she offers each an appreciative nod.

Edward applauds the competition, taking the time while he does it and smiles, "Huzzah." he exclaims until he finishes and then he shifts back to his glass and those at his table.

As is her due, Thena takes one of the offered cigarettes from Calaudrin but tucks it neatly behind her ear with the explanation of, "Drink first." She turns around in her chair to wave someone with a glass of wine over, to take, so hopefully that's a servant who approached. Facing forward again with the glass stem clutched in her fingers, "You think he'd behead you himself, or get an underling to do it? Since he's all titled 'n shit now."

Serafine takes a moment to stand, cupping her hands around her mouth again, "TOOK IT LIKE A CHAMP, BOSS! WELL DONE!" Because. You know. She can.

"I like to think that he's going to behead my himself. Seems proper." Calaudrin remarks, taking a long inhale from his smoke. Happy to indulge in both vices at the same time. Catching Valencia's nod from across the way, he gives the woman a lift of his hand. Then it's back to drinking. "We'll see how many Lord Tobias can lay out now. Should be decent."

Fiora does indeed offer the bottle towards Silas, along with a smile and a murmured, "Congratulations on your fight, my lord. That was quite a feat, I am not certain even Artorius could have managed that many at once." She dips her head towards him and murmurs something to him quietly, taking advantage of Tobias' turn in the ring to cover what might have been said. Straightening up, she smiles faintly once more and offers, "Please, do enjoy. The Nightgold's make an *excellent* whiskey." Offering a last nod, she moves to reclaim her seat to watch Tobias's fight.

"I'm relaxed!" Leta argues, sitting stiffly as she gives Serafine a wary frown. Apparently she believes the tattooed Princess, because she lets herself slump down. "I'll just - I'll just have a drink then." she draws a deep breath, then bows her head in a respectful (and honestly, not very relaxed at all) acknowledgment of Vayne's words. "I'm - right, yes Father."

Serafine shifts and plants her hand on her chin, elbow on the table, leaning with all the muscular, curvaceous elegance the woman has to bare. Her dark eyes flutter at Leta, generous mouth curved into a small smile. She nudges the sellsword lightly, murmurs something.

Aiden looks down with a smile at something then turns his eyes up to try and bolster himself since he was the host of the event. Socializing though? His eyes turn over toward Valencia and he gives her a thankful little wave.

"Well, time for me to get to it." Tobias listens to the sighs as he stands. "Got some new admirers, Baron. Perhaps your future Baroness is here somewhere." Tobias quips goodnaturely as he takes his helm from his table and slips it on. His left hand goes to the hilt on his scabbarded sword as he clanks his way over to the arena. "One of my first fights during this siege was an attempt by the Bringers to get into the Pit during the first week."

Tobias looks around to the audience, "They came under cover in unnatural fog. Visibility was completely gone." Tobias takes his Alaricite sword out of its scabbard and starts to flourish it gently, "I was on patrol at the time, and walked over and straight into it, knowing the defenders were far away from me, I slashed at the first thing that came into sight, shouting Bringers as I hit something meaty that gave no sound. Battle was joined." Tobias makes a gentle slash with the sword, imitating the attack. "More shapes appeared out of nowhere, and then more. The Pit entrance was filled with Bringers and their slaves."

Tobias turns around, giving another showy slash. "As the shapes finally showed themselves in the fog, it was clear that I was facing one of the bigger Bringers one on one. So, it was up to me to keep it busy. The Knights of Solace and Iron Guard cutting down the others as they tried to get into the Pit." Eventually, Tobias relaxes. "I fought that Bringer for a solid five minutes while the others handled the rest, but in the end, I didn't land the killing blow. That honor went to everyone... for this Bringer took us all to take down." Tobias raises his sword, then. "Let that be a lesson for tonight; if we stand alone, we would fall... but we have each other. The Compact protects us all."

Valencia smiles warmly as Mae joins their table. "Mistress Culler, I am so very pleased to see you again. Will you join us for a drink and let me introduce you to everyone, yes?" The little fox could not look more happy that the pretty dark-haired woman has been kind enough to join them.

Silas smiles back up at Fiora. "I don't know. Lord Artorius is quite impressive! Maybe I'll test that theory out one day." Another nod, then he twists off the top of the bottle. "That they do. Probably my favorite, among whiskeys anyway," he murmurs, voice lowering at the last bit. He doesn't bother with a glass and simply takes a sip from the bottle. His gaze goes to Tobias curiously...

Vayne smiles at Leta and appears to be relaxed enough for two people. The rum's very good. "You're doing fine," he tells Leta encouragingly. He settles in to listen to Tobias' tale attentively.

Valencia smiles back at Aiden and offeres a warm smile and an encouraging nod.

"Mmm. Maybe. Titles can turn a man's head, though." Thena takes a sip from her wineglass and her eyebrows hitch up a little at the contents which are probably of far better quality than anything she's had before. With a too-sweet curve of a smile she asks, "How many did you take down, Officer Estardes? I was filling a plate during your round." But she turns her dark gaze towards Tobias and listens with sudden gravity before leaning over to murmur admiration of the speech in Calaudrin's ear.

Mae flashes a smile to Valencia, then nods. "Just one drink, Princess. I need to get back to work," she offers up, but seems entirely grateful for the offer. "I know Leta... and Silas, of course..." She looks over at Silas, just as Tobias' story starts. "Oh! I'll marry you, Lord Commander Baron!" she calls out, at Silas. Since Tobias brought it up... Then she falls quiet, to listen to Tobias. Mae loves a good story. Somewhere through that, she does say, aside, in a quiet voice. "I know Calaudrin's wife, too. We're friends."

The compelling story of Lord General Tobias, is one that captivates many in the audience, bringing them back to the sobering truth that the Siege wasn't over, and threats, were still appearing. The lesson of the story, was that which struck many to nod their heads in agreement, praising Tobias for the words and waiting now, to see him in action.

Silas laughs nervously at Mae, from behind his bottle. "No marriage yet. I need to fix a few important things first."


Serafine snickers softly at Silas, raising a glass to the man. "Well fought, Lord-Commander, but my offer still stands, I'll be your body-guard against the horde of oncoming maidens."

Tobias checked dexterity + medium wpn at difficulty 15, rolling 26 higher.

Leta flashes a quick smile and a nod to Mae as well, then turns squinty eyes to Serafine and sighs. "I'm sure I'll get used to it!" but she's still at least mildly disapproving (fondly disapproving, however). And she indicates the Archlector sitting right there with the subtlest of nods. Propriety!

Serafine waggles eyebrows at Leta, and then rolls her eyes. -Lycene-, woman.

"I got to six and then it turns out fighting with a bow when everyone else has a sword isn't always so great. Too bad Lord Grimhall wasn't here too watch them lay me flat on my back." Calaudrin smirks at Thena, before leaning in to catch her words and reply himself. He thankfully can't hear a certain someone *cough* Mae *cough* talking about his wife. So he remains blissfully unaware.

For the most part, Tobias sits there, sword in his hand, as the Grayson comes at him. He's almost like a statue. Eventually, when the attack comes, Tobias deftly dodges to the left, his armor clanking slightly as he simply smackes the back of the man, pushing him off balance with his own momentum.

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

Edward listens attentively to the table while watching Tobias. He does pause for a moment to smile and give Mae a nod as she is introduced before he turns back to the things going on.

Tobias checked dexterity + medium wpn at difficulty 20, rolling 21 higher.

Two Graysons. This time, Tobias clanks his way over steadily. Walking. Tobias is not a showman when he's in the middle of a fight, and it shows. There's no wasted movement as he starts towards. Stephen gets his attention first, and the armored Tobias eventually gets under his guard to sweep his legs. As Cody tries to hit him from behind, Tobias turns in place like a revolving door, as he clothelines the man down with the flat of his blade, piling the two together.

Glances over to Leta and Sera and gives the women a fond and affectionate smile at their antics. Turning back to Mae she completes the introductions at the table as she pours her a drink. "I am so very pleased to introduce my dearest sister in law, Princess Ann Redrain. You of course know Archlector Vayne. These very handsome and gallant gentlemen are Prince Remi Thrax and Lord Edward Redreef. "

Introductions at the table done, Valencia again turns her eyes back to the competition with a bright smile.

Tobias has rolled a critical success!
Tobias checked dexterity + medium wpn at difficulty 25, rolling 44 higher.

Leta leans back and stretches her legs out. She is relaxing, see? And she turns a curious look towards the arena once more, trying to figure out what's taking place. "I'd step in and all, but I didn't come with a good story ready." she comments, leaning in towards Serafine to check the Princess's bare shoulder with her padded and armored one. "Not done anything heroic lately."

"Princess Ann," Mae says, with a smile. "And... oh! Archlector... I was supposed to meet with you," she says. "Soon?" she asks, a touch hopeful there. Then she looks down, over at Remi and Edward. "Oh, I met Lord Edward," she says, and lifts a small, gloved hand to wiggle her fingers at him. "Hi, again," she says. Remi gets a faint nod. Then she's finally helping herself to a drink.

Three. As per before, Tobias walks over. This time though, all thee Graysons try to attack him at once. Seeing the tactic, Tobias stands still, giving all the impression he's going to just take it.

Then they rush him, and Tobias sidesteps to the right, sweeping the legs out of the one to the right as he does so, forcing him into the other two. In one motion, Tobias down all three at once.

Aiden has left the Champions' table.


    Looking to the side from the match Vena asks, "I have milady? I've been retired for about five years." with a soft smile to Leta. Then returns to watching Tobias' match.


Tobias checked dexterity + medium wpn at difficulty 30, rolling 11 higher.

Thena's expression is Very Serious and she dips her chin in a nod before savoring another sip of her wine, smokey eyes following Tobias' movements in the ring. "I hear it's difficult to spar safely with arrows." Her shoulders lift a little. "Anyway, Lord Grimhall didn't ask for you for your sword abilities."

Aiden rises from the Champion's table with a polite nod toward his table mates, meandering toward the ringside tables, because the Prince should probably mingle with the guests. He's a little terrible at it. There's an awkward half way pause toward the tables, turning to watch the fight in the ring with his arms held behind his back.

Vayne studies Mae a moment before a spark of recognition lights his expression. "Yes, you were," he declares a trace scoldingly. "Do let the Mirrormasks know when you are ready, and they will tell you when to arrive for a consultation. I am at the Shrine of Tehom regularly, of course."

This time, the Graysons surround him at four sides. Tobias just brings his blade up into a ready position as they start trying to coordinate to get Tobias off balance keeping tracking of them.

It doesn't last long, as Tobias doesn't wait for them to come to him. Instead, Tobias *sprints* over to one, and knocks him off his feet with a shoulder check. As the others try to help their comrade, one is hit with the flat of his blade. He bum rushes the last two, surprising them as he goes for a successful double clothesline, using their own momentum against them.

Tobias checked dexterity + medium wpn at difficulty 35, rolling 9 higher.

"Especially with very little cover..." Calaudrin drawls slowly to Thena. But he does seem relived that Lord Grimhall didn't ask him to do any demonstrations. As Prince Aiden begins to make his rounds, he twists around in his seat to give him a wave from the ringside. He's not exactly seated where he should be, but... Time for another drink.

Mae's look goes a touch sheepish as Vayne scolds her. Or, well, sorta kinda barely scolds her. "Sorry, Blessed Vayne," she murmurs out. "I was distracted with... Bringers," she says. Then she gives a nod. "I will come soon," she promises. Then she takes a big gulp of that wine she's managed to find.

Ariel continues to watch Tobias as she is taking notes about each of his attempts. Her pen steadfastly working upon the parchment. Her eyes occasionnaly watching Aiden, light on her toes already should she need to go to his side.

Edward smiles to Mae when she wiggles fingers at him and he gives some in return, "Madame." he states and then finishes his glass of rum off. He checks the bottle before he pours himself some more and then he leans back into his seat slouching, shifting his attention back into the center of the arena.

Leta holds her hands up sharply and looks to Vena with a broad grin. "I'm no lady at all!" she hastily adds, then rolls her shoulders. "Aye - well, I've been fighting some, just - not any good stories. None I'd care to tell, anyhow." she reaches across the table for her wine and takes a long drink from it it, "Maybe one or two."

Silas sips more at his whiskey as he watches Tobias go, his eyes following the other swordsman's movements and attempting to deduce where he will go next. He has middling success. An idle thought strikes him and he casts his gaze towards Leta and Serafine. "Hey wait, you two are going to participate in the fighting?"

Ariel sets her pen down and goes to Aiden's side. Her hand gently goes to rest in the crook of his arm as she says "Prince Aiden, who shall we go and speak to? I can keep track of who is winning without the parchment after all."


    Vena nods to Leta and says, "Can't blame you there, I'm not much better off." with a smile and then her steel-blue gaze shifts back to Tobias.


Vayne sips his rum placidly. "To be fair, the Bringers demand the lion's share of our attention recently," he replies understatedly to Mae as he watches Tobias persist against the increasing numbers.

Aiden is intently watching Tobias, because anytime he looks over toward the larger crowd, only makes him further stuck in place. When Ariel comes up to him, he leans slightly against her, exhaling a breath he didn't know he held. "Tobias is doing well inthis fight..." his eyes widening at the prospect of introductions, "I would like to speak with Princess Valencia. I know her."

This is why Tobias doesn't do showy; you never know when you'll be in a fight long term. Tobias starts walking over to one of the five Graysons this time as they try surrounding him yet again. They try to keep up, but eventually Tobias backs one into a wall, and is forcing to go left or right instead. When he goes one way, Tobias intercepts. When it's all be assured Tobias will get in range, the other four make their move behind him... and Tobias dodges to the side, hitting the outer most one with the flat of his blade to take him down.

While the others recover, Tobias does another bum rush to grab one... then keeps going to take the other two with that one, before he stops, letting them dog pile one another. Eventually, Tobias looks back to the one he cornered, and begins a sort-of- duel with him. Dodging, ducking, weaving. After about ten seconds of this, Tobias whirls around and catches the mans legs with the flat of his blade, sending him to the ground.

Thena tsks softly at Calaudrin's words and shakes her head at the thought of arrow-sparring. "Terrible party game. Puncture wounds make the worst favors." With a hand tilt towards some of the arrayed Greyson Guards she notes, "I think this lot would wipe the floor with me."

Tobias checked dexterity + medium wpn at difficulty 40, rolling 6 lower.

Leta looks to Silas and hesitates for a couple of seconds. "My Lord - uh, Commander?" she hopes that's right, and generally looks slightly worried. "I wasn't sure I'd come, so - well, I could give it try but I haven't got any stories. Knight Serafine - she left her armor at home." she tilts her head, big hat and all, towards the Velenosa princess in the somewhat revealing dress.

Ariel continues to smile as she begins to walking along with Aiden and guide him over to Valencia as she says "Dearest Princess Valencia, how are you? Are you enjoying the festivities?" Her attention then looking to Aiden as she asks "Who is the challenge after Lord Tobias?"

Calaudrin looks the guards over and then twists to regard Thena, shrugging his shoulders. "You never know. If I can make it past a couple of guys, I'm sure you can. You smoke less." On cue, he takes another long drag before exhaling a gray cloud towards the ceiling.

Tobias is tiring, and it shows as the six Graysons surround him. His blade is up, but he's waiting for them to come to him this time. Eventually, two make their move. Tobias dodges around them and uses his blade to extend his arm as he sweep the two at the feet. Another two, these two trying to hit him from the front as he recovers.

It's the last two that get him though. While he's distracted with the others, the last two come up from behind and tackle Tobias to the ground, and a resounding *CLANK* can he heard as the armored Lord General is sent horizontal.

The leader of the Crimson Blades was rivetting to watch, especially with the tales of valor around the city spread about Tobias and his mercenary company. Whether recent news over shifting politics and contracts had earned attention one way or another, the obvious display of mettle is clear. Still, there comes a point when fighting as an individual against a group, where the scales tip and there are far too many openings for a person to defend, that number, this night, for the Lord General of the Crimson Blades, was half a dozen. Applaud nevertheless rings out for the glorious show in this ritual of honorable service to Gloria. An appreciative whistle or two is made for the man!

Valencia looks up from the ring below to turn and smile at Ariel and Aiden as they arrive. She gracefully rises from her chair to meet them, offers them both a bright smile. To Ariel, she offers a warm little hug and a light kiss upon the cheek, "My sweetest Lady Ariel. I am so glad you are here, how beautiful you look tonight." She then turns to Aiden and offers him a delicate hand, her dark eyes smiling up at him with warm delight. "Your highness, you look so very handsome this evening. Thank you so very much for hosting this event here. I am so excited I think I am almost breathless. There is a fury of action on the sands of the Arena and Valencia turns to look. She smile again and turns back, "You are pleased I hope? Is there anything else we might do to make you or your guests more comfortable and happy?"

Silas smirks at Leta's sheepishness. "Simply Lord Commander still works, Mistress Broadbent," he quips back merrily, using the more formal mode of address simply because Leta did the same. "You could argue that it's -more- fitting now, actually." The lord part was merely ceremonial before! He clicks his tongue at Leta's answer, however. "I somehow doubt you have no story to tell, but I won't press. It would still have been fun to see."

Mae smiles at Vayne once more, then her attention is on the fight. She watches until Silas goes down, and then she offers a bit of polite clapping. She quickly tosses back whatever wine is left, and then turns for the door. No good byes, or farewells. Mae's just going to leave.

Ariel has left the Champions' table.

Mae has left the ringside table.

Vayne sets down his rum once again to applaud Tobias for his fighting efforts and honor to Gloria.

Thena eyes the guards again, eyes narrowed in speculation, then proclaims, "...Nah," and leans down to set her wineglass on the floor long enough to offer Tobias a round of polite applause. Then, retrieving it again, notes to Calaudrin, "You've seen me use a sword." If you could call it that. Her black eyes follow the drift of smoke for a moment, then she downs the last of her wine and pulls the cigarette from behind her ear, gesturing for some means to light it. "Filthy habit."

Applauding for Tobias' go-round in the ring, Fiora watches the rest of the people gathered almost as much as she watches the contestants themselves. With the whiskey having been given away, the young Malvici resorts to opening a bottle of her own family's red wine. The glass is poured and set aside, to better let it breathe.


    As Tobias finally falters Vena gives another applause and calls, "Well fought, no doubt you'll rank higher than myself!" Course she seems to be the only one without a weapon of all the combatants taking part too. She then sarts to do a few warm-up stretches as she noticed with the champions done she'll be called up sooner or later, might as well work out the rust and cobwebs now. At least she's given her story at least, if you can call it one. She's seen several now, seems time for her to play her own part in her first Rite of Gloria.


Serafine snorts softly. "Leta has stories. I like the one where her suggestion for an offense was to burn the forest to the ground." She grins.

Ariel returns Valencia warm little hug and the kiss upon the cheek as she says "I am glad you think so. I wanted to make sure I looked nice for Prince Aiden's event." She then leans over to whisper something softly into Valencia's ear as a smile curls her lips when she pulls away. She then looks to all present as she says "Lord Commander Silas is still in the lead with Lord Tobias and Master Calaudrin tied for second place. Will the next contestant please step forward."

Aiden's eyes don't necessarily remove long from the arena, since he wanted to see the Lord General fight well again, catching the tail end when those scales of balance do tip for the man. He adds his applause to the noise and then is himself. Shortly after, his attention pivots back to Valencia, watching her greet Ariel with a quiet look of interest, prior to being turned too himself. That warm flush comes over him again when Valencia compliments him, "Thank you for allowing me to host this tribute in such an established... e... establishment." There is tension along his shoulders, as he tries to keep his expression polite, clearly nervous with this social gig, despite hosting it! "Yes, Highness, I'm very pleased."

After a moment, Tobias picks himself up, and sheathes his blade as he clanks his way over to the Champions table again, giving waves as he goes.

As he steps back to the table, his helm is taken off, and he sits with a thud. "I need a drink." Tobias gruffs as he takes his wine and sips. "That was fun. Haven't had much call for these tournaments for a while."

Sparte has been keeping to himself along the edges of the gathering. Without the armor he doesn't stand out too much, though he at least remembered to bring a sword, it being wartime and all. He finally makes his way over, watching the people who've been testing themselves in the challenge.

"Use a dagger then. They won't expect it, what with their big clunky army and all." When Thena begins gesturing at him, Calaudrin reaches for the cases and pops it open again to reveal the little packet of matches tucked inside. Then he holds it out to her so she can grab one. "I thought about quitting once. But I think I like it too much to ever stop." A helpless shrug for the vice.

Once the Grayson Guards have been given refreshments, some of them sweating like pigs by now with faces red, one even pouring water over himself in attempts to cool down, does the assistant call for Mistress Vena Venelana!

Serafine looks thoughtful. "You know ... I can tell the story about the castle full of cannibals, where I went with your sister, Lord-Commander.:

Vena checked strength + brawl at difficulty 15, rolling 66 higher.

Silas chortles at Serafine's retort. "I have those days, too." He glances back to the ring when he hears Tobias take his fall and counts the number of men around him. He whistles and claps loudly. "Not bad, Lord Telmar! Some of those guards are clearly well-seasoned and tricky."

That gets the attention of Tobias, "A castle filled with cannibals?" Tobias looka in Serafines direction.


    Vena is called forth and moves into the circle, the moment her foot steps over the edge her demeanor completely changves shifting from funloving and playful to cold, emotionless, and silent. As her first opponent approaches, Vena loosens her stance. Her fighting stance one that doesn't fit any standard style but shows a degree of familiarity with combat. As she and the first guard draws closer Vena suddenly strikes with her fist like a snake-strike the guard is hit squre in the face causign his eyes to blur but little else as vena takes a step back and waits for the next to join the fray.


Valencia looks up at Aiden and smiles gently, looking at him with great fondess, so very pleased that he is happy. "You are doing such a spledid job as host. You are so gracious. I am honoured that you would trust us to make this evening perfect for you," she smiles turning back to look at the ring, pausing a moment to look at her cousin as she mentions cannibals. The little princess glances from the ring below back to the gathered guests, her eyes stopping on Thena as she looks to light her ciggaret. She turns to one of the Hart's staff, who is already on the job bringing her something to light it with. She gives Thena a little wink.

Silas wrinkles his nose when Tobias mentions cannibals. "Not quite, no. I've managed to avoid the cannibals so far."

Vena checked strength + brawl at difficulty 20, rolling 28 higher.

Silas wrinkles his nose when Serafine mentions cannibals, THEN blinks at Tobias. "Wait, what? I've managed to avoid the cannibals so far. Why was my sister at such a place?"

Leta frowns and holds up her hands, "Just askin' to be ambushed, in a forest like that. And - well, I've been given reason to be wary of trees, haven't I?" she gives Serafine a look then, but not for long. There are drinks, and she takes another long sip, head shaking as she looks to the arena. "Not to say I've not done anything, mind you, just - well, I just go along to help, I'm not the one doing daring deeds." and saying that she delivers the gentlest, softest of punches to the Velenosa Princess's arm.

Thena takes a match from Calaudrin. "I'd have to. Still, think I'll pass. The skirts are bound to be a bother." She kicks her sandaled feet under her chair a little, presumably to demonstrate her dresses' less than ideal fighting qualities. "I quit for awhile. S'easier when you live with a non-smoker." Then suddenly someone is approaching with a light for her and the guard shrugs, hands the match back to Cal and lets the Hart staffer do the honors. "Thank you." Looking for the source of this solicitude she sees Valencia and flashes her a smile, giving her a little toast-like gesture with the cigarette before taking a drag from it.

Serafine chuckles at Silas, but also looks surprised. "Bethany? For research of course. She's the one that brought back the bronze hoof. Merek was with us, poor man. Took a beating like a loose door in a windstorm, BAM BAM BAM," she illustrates with her hands. "Bethany fared better than he did, and I killed most of them myself." She peers about. "I can tell the story, if that's how this game works? And send for my armo-" she begins, only to get PUNCHED by her LOVER. WHAT. She rubs her arm and feigns injury for about two seconds, before leaning over and kissing the woman's cheek. "You're my hero though," she says softly, everyone gone, Serafine having no eyes for anyone but her Leta. "Your daring deeds begin with gentling me. Sort of."


    The second joins in, Vena remains cold and emotionless as though she isn't even human or feels a thing. The new guard rushes forward, only to find Vena's knee raised and just as the female guard is about to counter they find a pair of hands firmly grab the guard's head and the knee is driven into the ribs sending the guard stumbling back a few steps. As the first clears his vision and charges, he is caught by the back of Vena's fist as she spins around to strike the side of his head. She seems to be as a strong as she is agile and fast. Her style lacking in any formality and focused more on dealing damage to her opponents any way she can with any part of her body allowed.


Vena has rolled a critical success!
Vena checked strength + brawl at difficulty 25, rolling 48 higher.

Aiden looks over toward Ariel, seeking some encouragement evidently, as his eyes flick back to Valencia, "The Hart was my first choice for such an occassion." He looks over toward the woman in the ring now, fighting with her fists, as he replies, those nearest can hear, "I wanted people to be reminded that we're in this together. As one, no matter how strong they are, they will eventually become overwhelmed. We need eachother." He looks up at the ladies, then back to his guards, "My guards felt great dishonor for their failing, but it was I that put them in such a situation. One action, is like a stone thrown into still waters."

Ann has been here along, cheering and drinking, and sneaking little glances at her book under the table. When at last the crowd becomes too much for the Redrain, she rises, bidding her sweet sister-in-law and the others at the table a warm good evening. Then it's off she goes, likely to search for ants in the gardens.

Ann has left the ringside table.

Ariel smiles to Aiden as she says "You are doing great Prince Aiden. I promise. And I think the Hart was a perfect pick for your party." A soft squeeze is given to his arm as her smile remains bright. Her free hand gently rubbing upon one of his biceps to help keep him calm.

"Huh. I never heard of this until now..." Silas wears a disapproving frown, the ones most older brothers would wear when discovering their little sister was going off on dangerous adventures. When he learns that Bethany fared better than one of his own guardsmen, though, he can't help but smirk a little. Proudly. "I'm glad you were around to make sure she came back to us." He takes a moment to return his attention to the combatant in the ring and looks impressed by what he sees. "I have to admire a girl who knows how to swing her fists and hurt armored men."

The little princess smiles and nods warmly to Thena and offers a nod of thanks to her staff for their attentiveness, and turns back to the conversation, her eyes on Vena in the ring. "Thank you so much for this. Your words... they mean so very much to me. And I agree with all my heart. Together we are very much stronger," she looks up at Aiden and offers him a grateful and affectionate smile before turning to Leta and Sera again. "It would seem that no place is safe from ambushes. With so many attacks in town, the Hart will be offering the Arena for self defense lessons and practice sparring so skills may be honed. No one seems safe," she says quietly, will a little glance to Rickard, Edward and then Remi. "If it were not for the quick actions of Lord Edward, Prince Remi, Missere Rickard the other night, I am not sure what I would do. And so even have taken your advice, my sweetest Sera, and will be learning a little."


    On to three, Vena isn't wasting effort with her quick strikes. A kick, another punch, and even a headbutt and the next three are sent back a step or more, she is holding her own well for someone without a weapon and only a lamellar cuirass. She even managed to spin around one attack from a guard as though she were dancing, that would also be the guard that got the kick.


Edward's drinking empties the bottle while he watches the events. He smiles and seems to enjoy them the more they go on.

Vena checked strength + brawl at difficulty 30, rolling 24 higher.

Rickard offers a nod and raises his drink to Valencia, tossing in a smile for good measure. He finishes his.. what was it, fifth? Ninth? Lost count. Bah. ... drink, and continues to lounge about, enjoying the atmosphere.

Edward's drinking empties the bottle while he watches the events. He smiles and seems to enjoy them the more they go on. Finally he stands up to stretch his legs and steadies himself on the table as he turns so he can get a better view of the spectacle. (errant enter key, sorry)

"What sort of fight do Cannibals put up these days? I've been fighting Bringers and Brand slaves for weeks now, I could do with a change." Tobias quips as he sips again, then looks to Vena as she punches her way through the Graysons. "She's gonna pop a shoulder doing that."

Sparte has been looking around the area curiously while Vera works those poor guards in the ring. He comes in next to Silas, breaking his silence so far into the evening to give the man a nervous smile and a small compliment. "I heard the news, congratulations your lordship."


    Vena continues on, showing no signs of fatigue as of yet as she draws closer to Calaudrin's record. As a fourth joins the match Vena starts to be surrounded easier. Two charge in as the woman ducks and sways under their joint strikes only to follow up by planing her rear foot and charging in to plant her shoudler into both as they nearly collide with each other, which in turn sends them stumbling into the third. The fourth then charges and she simply side-steps and then hammers a blow down on the fourth's back. Not enough to serious hurt but they'll be winded for a bit.


Vena checked strength + brawl at difficulty 35, rolling 1 lower.

It was barely a punch! Leta turns slightly redder at the kiss from Serafine and quiets down. "That's not really too daring, is it?" she mumbles under her breath, and quickly takes another gulp. The more she drinks, the more likely it is she'll have a proper story to tell, up to a point. She starts fiddling with her hat as she does.

Silas inclines his head in Sparte's direction when he nears and offers a friendly. "Thank you, Sparte." His gaze fixates on the fighting again. "You're going to give it a try, I hope? You're one of my favorite fighters to watch. And you were quite heroic in tending to Prince Aiden." Sincere praise!

Calaudrin gives the man showing up with a light a rather confused look before accepting his match back again. He shrugs, slipping it back inside the case. "While I'm enjoying the show... I think I need to walk. Getting stiff muscles post-fight." He Thena a half smirk before pushing off of his chair and disappearing off into the crowds.

Vayne smiles and applauds for Vena's distinctive choice of fighting style and honor to Gloria.

Ariel kindly announces "Currently Lord Commander Silas is still in the lead with Lord Tobias and Master Calaudrin tied for second place and Miss Vena in third place. Will the next contestant please step forward."

Thena exhales a thin stream of smoke and settles back in her chair. Hate to see 'em go, love to watch'em leave. She turns her full focus back to the fighting ring.

A member of the Hart's staff arrives with a note in hand and murmurs polite apologies as he interrupts. Valencia offers an apologetic smile and turns to receive the missive, gently smiling and thanking the man and pausing briefly to read the missive.

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

Serafine considers it, then moves to get the attention of a server, who in turn sends for a messenger, and soon enough Serafine has a canvas sack of armor and weapons in her possession. "Shall I try?" she asks.

Rickard had put his name into the proverbial hat, and been waiting until his name was called. He continued to wait, sipping on his drink with as much machismo as possible, eager to show off his skill with a blade.


    And a fifth joins the ever-growing match. Vena still doesn't show signs of tiring, seems she has a lot of stamina as well. This time three charge at one, but running parallel to each other to avoid risking collisions and also trying to catch Vena off-guard. It doesn't work as she instead looks to those charging and charges at the smallest-looking of them, slamming their bodies as her shoulder drives her opponent back and into the floor of the ring as the other two simply run past her.
    The fourth comes at her and finds a foot thrust into their gut and winding them as Vena looks back at the sound of charging and plants her counter. The fifth stands aside and watches as the first two come back for another go. Vena shifts to the side and then thrusts herself foreward, head first as she tightens her neck muscles and sends the top of her head into the gut of the leather-bound guard's body sending them into a coughing fit. The remaining of those first two then comes at her fist-first which Vena is able to dodge, her hair just barely missing being struck as her own fist comes up into a jab to the gut and sending her opponent gasping for air.
    Turning about once more to face the final opponent she is obviously caught off-guard the final combatant is right on top of her with a knee targeting her face as she is in a near-croach position. She attempts to dodge and nearly makes it but the knee catches her cheekbone and sends her rolling to the side, the unarmed woman who fights like a Demoness is finally stopped by the guards. She'll liekly onyl have a bruise though as she soon rises and nods respectfully to each she fought.


Sparte wrinkles his nose a bit, looking over at the people in the pit. "I feel awkward just being here, t' be honest. Not used to thank you coming with such a deep pocket attached." He rubs at his nose, eying the combatants then letting his eyes sweep the room again. "It does look like fun in the match, can't deny that. Plus you're winning." He gives Silas a crooked smile, thinking about it a little longer before pointing at one of the smaller benches in the room. "That one look sturdy to you?"

Serafine moves to applaud Vena, loudly. "WELL DONE!" she calls, before taking her seat again.

Those poor Grayson Guards are really trying to earn their honor back tonight! Though with the round robin they're playing, they're getting sufficient breaks in between. It would appear, that a number of Guards have to take a time out after getting pummeled by fists of steel! Vena does a good number in before her style of fighting leaves her simply overwhelmed. It's always a challenge, taking on those wearing armor twice as thick as your own! The applause does ring out for the woman, for it took a certain kind of fearlessness to tackle such a challenge! Each Guard will salute and approve of Vena's tactics, while others get ready for the next one entering the arena.... one Master Rickard Corsetina!

Valencia gracefully rises from her seat and wholeheartedly applauds Vena!

Barbara, the stalwart Stormward secretary arrives, following Ford.

Barbara, the stalwart Stormward secretary have been dismissed.

Aiden was left awestruck by the woman in the arena, "I need to find out who she is..." he murmurs quietly, to no one in particular. Though it was Ariel who kept his tongue from binding up completely, regarding Valencia, "No place is safe, not until we ensure it is. We are safer however, making the right choices of who to bring with us." He smiles quietly, "I would think, currently, this is the safest place in all of Arx."

Silas offers Vena a round of hearty applause and cheering for pulling off a feat he couldn't dare to match without the help of a blade. His gaze alights on Rickard curiously, who was an unknown personality to him. He continues his conversation with Sparte in the meantime. "I have a feeling you will be receiving more and more thanks for your valor, Sparte. You have a knack for it." His lip twitches into a wry grin of his own. "Aye, I'm winning so far, but I'm not getting cocky."

Rickard checked dexterity + medium wpn at difficulty 15, rolling 1 lower.

As Vena gets out of the Arena, Tobias gives her a toast with his wine glass, "Good showing. I don't often see anyone tough out armored fights with fists."

Sparte goes to pick up the bench, carrying it on his shoulder over towards the ring. He waits near the side of it, setting down the bench with a huff and sitting down to watch how Rickard fares.

As his name is called, Rickard enters the arena, and moves to the indicated spot. He offers a confident smile to the crowd.. and then the guard on demon's blood steroids enters the ring. Rickard puts up a good front, but his proverbial shell is cracked. At the signal, he engages with his opponent; it's obvious he's no master of hand-to-hand, being more familiar with weapon-based combat. He manages to hold his own against the much-larger man, using his speed to escape and evade, taking a few shots to the body when he misses his cue to dodge. In the end, Rickard finds himself winded, and shortly after that a good solid right hook to the jaw sends him tumbling from the ring. He rises, takes a moment to catch his breath, and heads over to offer a handshake to his opponent, before heading back to his seat.

Serafine winces as Rickard takes the hit and goes down, standing to applaud the man regardless.

Whisper the Snowy Owl arrives, delivering a message to Aiden before departing.

Silas watches Rickard gets smacked and grimaces himself, but it's replaced with a warm smile at the man's obvious good sportsmanship. He applauds just as enthusiatically as he did in the previous matches.

"Oh that looked like it hurt." Edward says though to the table or no one in particular. He reaches behind him for the empty bottle that he tilts upside down and then he sets it back on the table. He takes a look around the room for a moment before looking back to the arena center to see who else might get into the fray.

Valencia winces and turns as Rickard gets a clip to the jaw. She turns back and politely applauds as the Hart's mercies go to check on the man.

Since Serafine's armor arrives, Leta gives the Velenosa princess a look. "If you're fighting, let's go get you in that then." she starts to push back her chair and stands, then gives the latest figher a few sound claps of applause as well.

Serafine nods to Leta and stands, heading somewhere private to put on her armor and gear up.

Pop! Right in the kisser. Or near it, at least. Seeing this sort of thing daily in the drilling for his mercenaries, the Lord General just gives a gauntleted clap, before Tobias sips his wine again. "I'll give him props for trying." As Rickard comes out of the arena. "Hey, Mr. Corsetina. What's your usual weapon?"

Vayne applauds Rickard, appreciating his effort to bring honor to Gloria.

While the fight may have not lasted as long as others, the beast of a Grayson Guard was very much to blame for Rickard not making it as far as the other combatants of the evening. Rickard was not without his own abilities, however, the Grayson Guards were getting their confidence back! This one in particular. Applause rains down for the fight, for both were honorable in sporting rite to Gloria! The next name on the list, was Sparte. Wait, who put his name down on the list? He's being called, regardless of who!!

Sparte claps for Rickard, standing up and dragging the bench into the arena with him as Rickard makes his way out. He then sits down on it in the center, arms crossed and grinning at the Grayson guards like the fool he probably is.

Silas looks at Sparte expectantly. Loooook.

Sparte checked dexterity + huge wpn at difficulty 15, rolling 23 higher.

Rickard lifts a hand and gives a wave of acknowledgement (and thanks) to his admirers, grinning as well through the pain of his thrashing. He orders up a drink to dull the ache. When the Lord General approaches, Rickard reaches down to his hip and draws the blade from its sheath, just enough to show off. "Made it myself."

Valencia turns to Edward and nods in agreement. She takes her seat again and folds her hand in her lap, finally responding to Prince Aiden. "With you all here? There is no place safer, your highness. None at all," she says with absolute confidence in the many fighters surround her. She turns to smile at Edward, Rickard and Remi, "To be true, especially with these three about."

Rickard lifts a hand and gives a wave of acknowledgement (and thanks) to his admirers, grinning as well through the pain of his thrashing. He orders up a drink to dull the ache. When the Lord General approaches, Rickard reaches down to his hip and draws the blade from its sheath. "Made it myself last night."

It isn't exactly a fight the Grayson guards know what to do with right off. Sparte has a weapon, but he hasn't drawn it. Is it another brawl? He brought furniture. Where is his armor? After a little cajoling between one another they finally send a guardsman out who looks like he is after the easy win. He charges Sparte, ready to just clobber him over the head and be done with it.

Only he gets to the bench and Sparte just isn't where he was a second ago. Without his armor on the skinny Iron Guardsman is spry. He elbows the guardsman as they go past, letting the momentum trip them over the bench. Sparte then steps onto one edge of the bench with a foot, pivoting it with his weight before shifting it to a proper Captain Jack pose as he lands the other end of the bench onto the guardsman. Then Sparte just stands there, pinning the other man like a well polished turtle. "Two the second time right?" Sparte looks down to the guardsman under the bench. "I mean unless you want to make angels on the floor a while longer. I can wait."

Sparte checked dexterity + huge wpn at difficulty 20, rolling 49 higher.

Aiden was one of those standing by watching Rickard that winces visibly when the man is taken down. The Grayson Guards do look toward him and Aiden dips his head in chagrined approval. An assistant attends him as well as a messenger, accepting words from the first and a message from the second. The missive he opens up and is relieved by the promisary note within. His attention pops up when Valencia agrees with him about the safety of the place, "That is comforting indeed." Interested in the arena, he does mention, "I believe there is only one more after Master Sparte and then, we shall name the winner." He was quite interested in how Sparte fought, muttering to Valencia and Ariel, "I almost punched him in the nose. By accident."

Fridrik, a Fennec Fox arrives, delivering a message to Ariel before departing.

Silas likes to watch Sparte fight... because he's an utter smartass. He chuckles at Sparte's antics and wisecracks and leans forward to watch how the Grayson guards react. Will they respond poorly to the provocation? The Lord Commander has little doubt that Sparte can take at least a few of them on with no problem, perhaps more if he can keep himself from tiring! He absently begins to eavesdrop on the surrounding conversations, but does a poor job of it.

Ariel looks to Aiden as she says "I think that is a fine idea Prince Aiden. And after everything is done I can introduce to all who competed it you like. And I am called you didn't hit him in the nose." Her attention keeping track of everyone, not wishing to interrupt Sparte as he is taking his turn with an update."


Serafine returns in her armor, mail and leather in shadowy hues of crimson. She's got her dark hair still in that tight, intricate coif of braids and beads. There's a blade on each hip and she's adjusting one vambrace as she emerges with Leta at her side. The short, dark, inked Knight pulls on her gloves as well, flexing her fingers as each one is encased in leather. She grins at her Leta. "So? A favor from my lady? A kiss? A swat on the ass for good luck?" she all but cackles.

Aiden looks worried with the antics in the arena, "Is... that... proper fighting for the rite of Gloria?" He asks looking around, then back at Silas, eyebrow questioning the use of a bench.

Silas shrugs at Aiden's question, not entirely in the know himself. He's no priest, but he was a carpenter! "Well, a bow is primarily made of wood, too... I'd say it's fair."

The next two guardsman take it as their signal to enter the ring, even thought the other one is still floundering under the bench. Sparte sees them coming in and doesn't look like he wants to just stand there and wait this time. Stepping up onto his bench with the second foot, Sparte retreats back as the two Guardsmen come in. With a little hop halfway along he stomps on the edge furthest from the other guards, kicking it up vertical in the process to act as a temporary shield against their first wave of blows.

Then the bench keeps moving. Sparte rolls it onto his back, picking up the far end with his momentum to crack one of the two guardsmen in the jaw with a bench leg. Sparte them spins around to clock the second guardsman with the bench but they've the sense to duck. Oh no! What will Sparte do?

Drop the bench and kick them in the rear. They stumble into the original guard who is trying to get up to their feet, sending them sprawling into a tangle for the second it takes for Sparte to step on one end of the bench and flip it over onto them both with his weight. This time the bench is upside down on two winded guards, the one he caught in the jaw being well out of the fight. Hands from the two pinned guards try for Sparte's ankles as they try to recover their breath, so he starts jumping up and down in the bench to dodge. They regret the decision in short order.

Sparte checked dexterity + huge wpn at difficulty 25, rolling 9 higher.

Aiden stands there slack jawed at the performance, his hand suddenly coming up to cover his gaping mouth, the other holding up the pitch of his elbow. He clears his throat a little, "This must... be a new style of fighting."

Leta emerges, walking alongside Serafine, reaching out to tug and adjust the guardswoman's armor some more in the process. Then she nods, though a few small lines wrinkle her brow at the question. The last part, at least. Insted of a swat to the rear, the sellsword leans down and presses a quiet kiss to the princess's lips. It's almost chaste, but it does linger a while longer than a peck. And her rosy cheeks are even rosier when she's done. "There you go, then."

Edward laughs, watching the antics of Sparte, enjoying the new show. He claps at the jumping on the bench laughing again. His smile is ear to ear with the entertainment. He turns to look at the table and then he takes a step away so he can move down a little closer for a better view.

Edward has left the ringside table.

Silas continues to observe Sparte's creative use of wooden furniture. "I suppose I can count on him to use improvisional weaponry if he's ever caught unarmed," Silas quips to himself, his eyes darting to and fro as he follows the trajectory of the bench. "It must be lighter than what he's used to. It will get harder as they catch on, though."

Valencia looks very impressed and can't seem to keep herself from grinning.

Rickard makes his way over to the ringside table, and settles at one of the open seats.

Rickard has joined the ringside table.

Serafine beams up at Leta as the woman gives her a kiss in front of everyone, amused beyond expressing, but the warmth in her eyes is unmistakable. She embraces the woman around the waist, squeezes, then lets her loose. "Thank you," she says quietly. And then moves to the ringside, making room for Leta to join her.

Is that three guards this time, and is that an axe?! Sparte steps over onto the legs on one side of the bench again, rocking it up as a shield only to have the blade of the axe halfway split the bench. Then the other two guards come around the sides, flanking him instead of making the same mistake in the prior round. Sparte's eyes widen a bit as he proceeds a bit of hopping and running around the ring while working on getting his sword off of his back. It isn't a very heroic game of cat and mouse.

When Sparte's sword finally comes free and that is right when one of the guards manage to connect, sending him sprawling into the pile of guardsman and the broken bench in the middle of the ring. There is a second where it looks like that might be it, the fight is over. Then Sparte gets up, shaking his head a few good times and hitting himself above one ear with an open palm. "No - noooo, there are three of you THREE of you, ha! I counted before you hit me! No cheating!" And then he rushes the large guard with the axe, laughing. Where he was defensive before, now he is overtly reckless. It causes the moment of hesitation needed for Sparte to get in past their guard, then other two guardsmen following to hit the ground in short order. "Hah! Got all six of you! Cheats!"

Sparte checked dexterity + huge wpn at difficulty 30, rolling 14 higher.

"He likes to improvise, and come off as a jester doing it." Tobias notes as he watches Spartes fight. "That little bit of unpredictableness can be useful."

Serafine stomps her feet and claps for Sparte, cupping her hands around her mouth and howling encouragement and approval.

The little princess smiles as Rickard takes a seat and nods warmly. "Missere Rickard, welcome! Would you care for a drink?" she asks taking up a glass for him. "I think I very much like to have one as well," she confesses as she begins to pour him a healthy portion just in case and the moves to top up the other glasses. She lookd over to Sera and Leta with great affection and a smile lights up her face as they kiss. "Isn't love the most wondeful thing in the world," she says to no one in particular, her eyes glimmering happily as she sets the bottle down again.

Aiden is starting to sway on his feet, looking toward Ariel with a tight lipped grin. At the sound of breaking wood as the axe splinters through it, he jolts, visibly. His eyes flicker and squeeze, his stance having to widen to keep him from going anywhere, like down, or backward, or forward on his face, or worse, under a table.

Ariel immediately turns her attention to Aiden and guides him to sit down in a chair, gracefully moving to sit next to him as she says "Aiden, tell me about the baby macaw. Have you thought of a name for the little one? Or did you decide to go with my suggestion?"

Vayne smiles to Rickard as he joins them, sipping his rum. "The honor to Gloria is not in the result, but in the spirit of the attempt," the Archlector says before turning to regard Valencia. "True, but mirrors are a very close second," he adds with an amused smile.

Silas nods to Tobias's remarks and takes a long swig from his whiskey. "Until unpredictability is predictable," he adds. He saves his own cheering for now, simply to make sure not to distract either the Grayson guards or Sparte. At the sound of wood harshly splinter he frowns in dismay. Perfectly good wood gone to waste.

2 Iron Guardsmen have been dismissed.

1 Iron Guardsmen have been dismissed.

Valencia glances up at the prince with some concern and nods her apologies to the table and rises to speak with Aiden. She briefly looks to Ariel and then to Aiden, gently putting a delicate hand on his arm, "Your highness, would you sit with me a little? If you please?"

Ariel leans in close to Aiden and begins to talk softly to him

Sparte's powers of observation don't seem to jog with reality right now, suggesting he got hit in the head a bit hard in that last round. Yet the fight goes on, with Sparte looking out at the crowd for a moment and squinting before shaking his head and giving himself a few more open palmed smacks over one temple. Squinting over at the side of the ring he looks at the four approaching guards like a small army, falling into a defensive stance with his grip high and the oversized blade extended down across the front of his body to almost touch the ground.

When the guardsmen come in he blocks and deflects the blows in turn, knocking one guard's weapon into another that didn't think to guard against friendly angles.

Sparte backtracks over to the damaged bench, trying to step up onto it for higher ground and slipping. He tumbles backwards, his sword skittering from his hand as he hits the ground. A look towards the sword and the oncoming trio of guards, he rushes towards the guards right as they're coming over the small hill of other guardsmen the bench was on top of, going right through the center one's legs with so much speed they arn't sure where he went right off. The limitation of big helmets, your vision is only so great at the odd angles.

The whole crowd gets to see Sparte lift the bench back up with a twirl to catch it over his head, and gets that half second to cringe before it comes crashing down into the back of the helmets for the three guards. Mt. Bench has suddenly doubled in size.

Sparte checked dexterity + huge wpn at difficulty 35, rolling 17 higher.

Seeing that Ariel is already dealing with whatever might be ailing the prince, Valencia returns to her table to continue to watch Sparte's incredible display. Her eyebrows lift and she smiles, "Gods above and below, to have such talent for the martial arts. I hope he will return to the Hart and compete in the tournaments after the siege. I think he would make an extraordinary champion of the Hart as well," she mused with a little smile Silas and Remi's way. "I have forgotten how much I adore such events. Gods, I wish I was so talented. I cannot wait to see my sweetest Sera next. She is a wonder!" the little fox says with such adoration and pride of her cousin's formidable talents.

Serafine flicks her eyes to Valencia, the woman trying not to smile. "Don't jinx it, cousin," she teases with a chuckle.

Remi seems to shake himself out of his thoughts that had taken him away from the present, The man refocusing and looking around slowly before reaching out for a nearby bottle of rum. The Thrax uncorking it as his eyes settle on the arena floor watchful of the fight as he takes that first sip.

The bench is ruined. Sparte drops the cracked remains with dismay, going over to pick up his sword again. When he looks at the new batch of guards, he starts grinning wide. "Only five? I thought the number was supposed to go up." Seems his vision is getting back to normal at least.

Sparte goes for hit and run tactics this time, something more traditional tot he battlefield. He engages a few guards, then retreats to engage others. The relatively difficult terrain of the downed gaurdsmen are used to his advantage, not having the armor to slow him down for a change. One by one he drops this batch with the more conventional tactics. (Speeding up my poses due to the hour)

Sparte checked dexterity + huge wpn at difficulty 40, rolling 4 lower.

Aiden checked composure at difficulty 15, rolling 2 lower.

Silas raises a brow when Sparte begins to smack himself. He's never done that before. He blinks when Sparte brings the bench down on the heads of the trio of guards. "Don't kill them, Sparte!" He calls out. Head shots were always nerve-inducing. He nods to Valencia when she expresses her desire to see Serafine compete. "She's the one who may beat me. I'm looking forward to it, as always."

Aiden settles down in a seat, Ariel on one side and Valencia on the other? It might be that Aiden isn't really aware of where he's sat, he just sits when prompted. He gulps a few times, though if there were answers to Ariel's questions, they were either softly whispered or not made at all. What does happen is when Sparte uses the bench to attack the Grayson Guards, Aiden's hands are going knuckle white against the arms of the chair, twitching at the sounds.

Rickard has left the ringside table.

Serafine just -sighs- at Silas. "Well now it's never going to happen!" she says with a laugh.

"Yeah, that's gotta stop." The head shots get his attention for sure, and Tobias just shakes his head at the display. "He's forgetting himself." Tobias sips his wine again, before he looks to Silas. "Does he do this often?"

Leta returns to her seat by the ringside after letting go of Serafine, and settles in to watch. First, though, she applaudes joyously for Sparte's performance, a loud laugh rolling off her as she grabs for her wine and returns to drinking. She leans on an elbow, chin on her knuckles, and stares intently at Serafine.

Ariel moves from her seat to get in front of Aiden's gaze entirely as she continues to softly speak, only loud enough for he and Valencia to hear.

Silas flickers his gaze towards Tobias. "He doesn't typically fight groups that -aren't- trying to kill him, I think," Silas suggests, but he wasn't entirely certain. Only Sparte knew what was going through his own head. When the fighting finally ceases and the guardsmen finally get the best of the bench-wielder, Silas still lifts his hands to clap.

Valencia winces a littlle as Serafine mentions jinxing and she presses her lips together contritely and then turns to check on the Princes. She frowns with concern and motions to a passing member of the Hart's staff and whispering briefly, sending the man on his way. The little princes then turns back to the table and pours a healthy measure of whiskey and offers it to the prince. "Your highness," she says gently, nudging the drink forward before speaking softly.

There is a break as Sparte sheathes his weapon, coming down some from his adrenaline to look at the guards around him. He takes a few long breathes before moving to help get some of the men out of the ring. The broken bench, alas, receives no such care or kindness. His senses somewhat returned, he steps back into the ring. Kindness or not, the guardsmen arn't as kind to him this go around. Six of the best come out, and try though he might, he can't keep up with them all. Especially now that they are wise to his tactics.

Sparte manages to take out half of the lot when one of the guards does something Sparte should've expected - they throw the broken bench at him and send him to the ground in a heap. Sparte being Sparte, he bounces right up to his feet like he is ready go again. It takes him a bit longer than it should to notice his sword arm has gone limp, and a brief examination to see the shard of wood extending through it. "I... Oh." Sparte pokes at the wound, already starting to leak blood down his arm as color drains from his face. "I guess I deserved that." He doesn't faint, but the color fails to return. Sparte gives the room a thumbs up with his still mobile arm, leaving his sword behind on the ground as he heads towards the recovering guardsmen and whatever medical care they may be receiving.

Serafine whistles cheerfully at Sparte, applauding her fellow guardsman.

Vayne applauds Sparte's resourceful fighting efforts and honor to Gloria.

Aiden is looking between Ariel and Valencia, accepting their words with a slow wobble bob of his head. It doesn't look as if he's saying anything back to them, at this point in time.

Ariel mouths something to Valencia before she is talking softly once more, only loud enough for them to hear

That... will take some cleaning up! All those broken bench pieces everywhere?! The applause is mixed and ranges from the confused to the energetic! The Grayson Guards were in a bewildered mix themselves, some grumbling about the use of the bench picking out splinters, others, laughing about it. It was really a mixed bag about how Sparte was received, though they all certainly appear to be alive. The last fresher group of Guards, await their last fighter. Princess Serafine Velenosa.

Silas beckons over a Mercy (assuming there is one) to tend to his wounded guardsman as he departs from the ring of valor. "Good job, Sparte... but be more careful next time. And wear armor." There is a trace of sterness in his voice.


Serafine leans over to steal a kiss from Leta.


The Shav'arvani Knight heads towards the fighting ring, faulting in and unsheathing her blades. She's curious to see how she'll fare; she's only done multiple opponents beyond two in the field, fighting on missions and the like. Her blades whirl, her shoulders flex and she rocks her head to the side, loosening up.

"Alright," she calls out with a feral grin. "Ready!"

The Hart's mercies quickly move to aid the wounded guardsman, guiding him safely from the sands to be tended at the benches.

Serafine checked dexterity + medium wpn at difficulty 15, rolling 34 higher.

Ariel has rolled a critical success!
Ariel checked charm + etiquette at difficulty 15, rolling 53 higher.


The woman readies herself and looks to the first guard, giving him a playful wink before getting inside his space. In and out, dances forward she does, Serafine, to clip the guard under the chin and then headbutt him in the chest with a loud, roaring grunt from the woman. He goes sprawling and she's scooting back again, never taking up more space than she needs to. "Again!" she calls with a laugh, enjoying herself, not laughing -at- anyone.

Serafine checked dexterity + medium wpn at difficulty 20, rolling 39 higher.

Sparte looks embarassed at Silas' criticism on the armor. "I... Yes sir." Decidedly sheepish now that all his fighting is done, and he is having a hole in his arm patched up. The blood loss isn't doing him any favors. After a moment he adds on. "Sorry, sir."


It's another guard entering the ring, this one a hair taller but not so broad in the shoulders. Serafine swats the one on the ground with the flat of her blade to his rump, ducking under the swing of the second attack and throwing her shoulder into the man with all the power of her short, thick legs. Serafine grunts with the shove, knocks him into the dust, jumping over the swing of a blade from the other man on the floor.

"That's not sportsman-like!" she cackles, kicking the man shins before hopping away leveling a sword point at him. "But it's smart, well done!" and she swings her blades, ready for the next guard to enter.

Serafine checked dexterity + medium wpn at difficulty 25, rolling 47 higher.

Silas nods to Sparte, pleased with the man's reply. "It's fine." He furrows his brows in concern when he finally notes Sparte's pallor. "Sit down and have a rest. I think that took quite a bit out of you." His gaze finally goes up to watch Serafine when he's certain Sparte was taken care of.


Three guards now, Serafine almost surrounded minus the two on the ground. They're on their feet soon enough and she's ducking the swing of one and the charge of another, dodging out of the way at the last minute so there's some friendly fire in the way of head-butting happening. Her snicker trails out in her wake as she drops to her knees, rolls between the legs of the taller, newer opponent, and all-too-casually throws her iron-helmed head right into the poor man's crotch.

A clutching of his private parts before the man tumbles in the dust. "Tactical advantage, sorry, my friend!" is the Knight's call as Serafine dances out of reach, tripping the second guard with a well-placed kick on her way by.

Serafine checked dexterity + medium wpn at difficulty 30, rolling 6 higher.

Silas cringes when Serafine assaults a man's nethers and the poor sod predictably falls. "I don't think he'll be getting back up..."


The guards are adding up. Serafine faces four now, the other three back upright and armed and she grins. "Now it's a fair fight!" the woman cackles, feral joy in the woman's eyes as she sets in to charge.

It's not as easy as the first three rounds but it's rather what she expected, so if she's a little out of breath for this one, no one can blame her. It's a lot of spinning and twisting, more speed but also, taking the hits when she gets them. She ducks, dodges, gets a strike in the ribs and a knee to the thigh, the woman rolling with the strikes, out of the way to loosen up and jump in again.

Serafine checked dexterity + medium wpn at difficulty 35, rolling 24 higher.

Vayne squints. "The rite of Gloria is to venerate the precepts of -honorable- combat," he says flatly as he looks at the headbutted guard.

Fiora has left the corner table.

Leta, a mercenary, looks slightly lost at Vayne, needing to consider this for a moment or two. Instead, she polishes off the last of her wine glass. That'll keep her quiet. She leans forward onto her elbows to continue watching the fight, frowning only ever so slightly. Whether that's concern or something else it's harder to say.


That's five now. It's easier for the shorter, stockier Serafine to keep moving, to let the extra bodies make life difficult for each other rather than her. So she's weaving in and out, nudging, shoving, pushing-

At one point, she's climbed ON the shoulders of one poor guard, his helmet wrenched off, her thighs around his neck and she's pulling his hair to -ride- the man into another one. Tangled limbs and all, she drops off him and rolls backward, laughing her ass off as the two guards end up in an unseemly, suggestive pile.

"Mother FU-" almost explodes from her when she just barely dodges a silent charge, her foot kicking out at the last minute to kick the man in the knee. He goes sprawling into an oncoming fourth opponent, and Serafine darts forward to head-butt the fifth right in the gut.

She hears Vayne and laughs. "They're all a foot taller than me, Father! Sparte used a -bench-, for gods' sakes! I have to even out the playing field -somehow-!"

Serafine checked dexterity + medium wpn at difficulty 40, rolling 31 higher.

The little princess glances over to Vayne a moment and raises an eyebrow. She turns her dark eyes to the sands to watch her beloved cousin move like the winde, spinning and reeling between the guards before turning back to check on the prince of Grayson.

Sparte shrinks in on himself, the reddening of his ears the first sign that, just maybe, he didn't lose that much blood after all.

Silas folds his arms over his chest and cants his head as he continues to watch. "I think these guys are happy I made my assault relatively quick and less embarrassing." He looks back down at the man who was still suffering from the crotch shot, as if to accentuate the point.


Six guards. Six! Is it honorable yet, Serafine would ask? Six verses one. She's panting but excited, a flush to her cheeks as the inked, scarred woman of Velenosa and Shav'arvani spins through the little crowd of opponents that seek to end her place in the game.

She yelps, dodges an attempt to trip her, dives for the ground into a roll and comes up running, sprinting to get some distance on the others, turning at the last minute to launch herself at the man's chest, scrabbling up to wrap her legs around his head and yank him with the heft of her muscular body to the ground.

He yalps, flails, the move unexpected, and she manages to trip two of the others with his large, prone body. The other three go after her and she grabs the belt of one, yanks him forward off his feet just enough to stumble over his fellows, the fifth and sixth getting a headbutt to the chest and hard, leather-cased knuckles to the chin. She's right; they are -all- taller than she.

Serafine checked dexterity + medium wpn at difficulty 45, rolling 6 higher.

Valencia grins with such pride, turning to look over her shoulder entirely confident in her cousin's ability on the sands.


So it's starting to tax her, seven guards to her one lonesome self, Serafine spending a great deal of time -literally- running circles around them. Dodging through, tripping some. Her blades are whirling, the flat seeing more action than anything else, doing her best not to cut or injure to bleed but it's getting harder to do that.

She winces when she slices into the arm of one and slams her helm into his face, breaking his nose. She's almost caught by another around the waist but the woman weighs as much as lead iron, solid and heavy. Still, poor fellow gets an elbow to the gut and she drops to the floor to tumble away.

It's getting harder now, she's panting, sweating, but she still manages to yank the long braid of a tall, ginger guard, pulling him off his feet and kicking him in the chin before she's off, running, dropping to her knees to slide through the sand, swords bare and swinging, to catch the legs of two more. They bleed, the wounds more painful than damaging, and she's off again.

Serafine checked dexterity + medium wpn at difficulty 50, rolling 2 higher.

"You can do it, Serafine!" Silas calls out in encouragement as the number of guards in the ring increase and Serafine visibly tires. Or at least sweats. Or both!

Whatever's gone on between Valencia, Ariel, and Aiden, it seems to come to a conclusion in that Aiden is now once again watching the arena. His hands are clasped together after he spent some time with one on his head, and looking as if he was breathing irregularly. Whatever it was, he looked steadier, able to appreciate the fight going on in the ring.

Ariel begins to focus upon the ring, gracefully getting back into her seat as she waits to see if Princess Serafina will defeat Lord Commander Silas's record.


"Goddess blessed mother fucking cock-chewing bastard of a goat-breeder spoon coddler-" the curses just tumble out of Serafine's mouth as the game takes a turn, the woman panting, laughing still even as she swears. Eight guards now, she's got a whole collection of guards at her back, around, surrounding.

If the Archlector thought her fighting dishonoring before, hate to think what he sees now: the woman has switched from play-fighting to play-surviving, taking the shots that knock her opponents to their knees using whatever advantage she has. Headbutts, crotch-shots, you name it, it's not her fault they don't armor themselves for a shorter fighter who can kick them in the balls far easier than she can punch them in the face.

Serafine takes an unexpected hit, tumbling to the ground. She rolls out of the way just in time, scrabbling to her feet, mule-kicking the one guard in the face before she spins steel ringing as Serafine finally starts true sword play.

Ambidextrous, she parries two different opponents at the same time, cursing, ending the one with a kick to the knee and the other by rapping the man -hard- in the wrist with the pommel of her steel blade. She kicks his weapon to the side, and she's off running again.

Serafine checked dexterity + medium wpn at difficulty 55, rolling 1 lower.


"C'mon, bastards, give me your best-...shot-..." Serafine hoots, only for the next guard to enter to be ... a woman. It's obvious she's a woman, she's not as heavily armored but she's got the reach over the Knight's flexibility.

It takes Serafine by surprise, dodging, running, bolting out of the way only to end up chest to chest with the lone female guard. Crotch-shots won't work on this one, and while the Knight moves to dance backwards while placing a well aimed kick to the other woman's knee, she's clipped at the back of the heel and she tumbles backwards into the dirt, flailing.

"Yield!" she calls with a laugh, swords dropped, hands up, palms out. "Yield, you fuckers, I yield!"

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

Sparte hands something to one of the mercies, looking around a bit embarassed before standing and attempting to slip away from the event while people are celebrating Serafine's performance.

Leta watches the fight. Look, Serafine's cursing. Leta orders some more wine from a passing waiter and gulps it down, a hand coming up to rub at her face, or possibly just to hide it from sight. She flinches as as Serafine finally falls down. Still, she claps very loudly and lets out a sharp appreciative whistle.

Vayne applauds for Serafine's spirited effort and honor to Gloria. He's decided to overlook that one headbutt.

The little raven-haired princess is nearly on her feet, her eyes wide and then.... "No!" she cries out, but she still smiles with all the pride she can muster, cheering her applauds. "Bravo! Well fought!"

Serafine salutes Vayne and gives him the most florid, elegant bow.

Silas scratches his chin thoughtfully as the woman who enters the ring is the one who brings Serafine down. "I think we're tied..." He muses outloud when he counts the guardsmen twice to make sure. He looks to Aiden for guidance.

Ariel stands up and says "Indeed it is a tie between Lord Commander Silas and Princess Serafina." Her attention looks to Aiden as she says "Shall their be a tie breaker or a split prize Prince Aiden?"

Tobias watches the whole thing silently, his wine being sipped in between bites of his food. Eventually, the Lord General just gives a raised brow, before he looks to Silas. "If nothing else, at least she can't do that to you in armor."

As the final match is struck, the Grayson Guards are wiped. Clearly. They are in all stages of hurt from all those they tested mettle against tonight. It's a good kind of wiped. It's the feeling that comes after a really good practice, everything hurts, but there is satisfaction in that hurt. It takes only a brief time before the assistant comes over to Prince Aiden Grayson, pausing at the nature of the young man's countenance, hesitation granted with an eye flick to Ariel and Valencia, then a whisper with the Prince is made. A slow back and for conversation takes place and the Prince rises with a sickly sort of energy to him, "We have a tie this evening. Gloria seems fit to end the night with a one on one... battle, between Princess Serafine and Lord Commander Silas... IF each are willing, this may proceed. If one party is not, they forefit the win the other."

Edward laughs and claps as Serafina secures the tie and creates a House vs House situation. He walks from the edge of the ring and over to the bar where he gets something from the barkeep, a new glass of something, and he turns to lean against it and drink it while watching the spectators now while a tie breaker is decided upon.

Leta has left the ringside table.


Serafine pulls off her helmet, dark hair sticking to inked skin. She squints at her lord-commander. "Well, boss, I'll fight you for the prize if you like." She points. "But we go Luca-style. Weapons only." Her dark brows waggle at him; he'll know what she means.

The little fox gives Sera a long long and then covers her face with a delicate hand. "I do not know why my family is so adverse to wearing clothing and armor sometimes," she says softly, though there is a little affectionate smile on her face. She glances over and then back to the ring, looking from Sera to Silas, sizing each up with a critical eye. "This will be very interesting I think, yes?"

Valencia claims that!

Leta stares. She looks at Serafine, then looks at her glass, and looks at the nearest waiter, "Just bring me the bottle, will you?"

Silas stands from his seat when the tiebreaker round is announced. He takes one last long sip from the whiskey Fiora gifted him earlier. He looks to Serafine, then to Tobias with a shrug. "I don't think she'd be -that- cruel to me..." Though he couldn't be -entirely- sure. He does make a considering pause at Serafine's offer, initially, but nods. "Sure, I'll sweat less and smell less terrible." Silas begins by removing his gauntlets first, then moving to remove the rest of his armor piece by piece. What's left is a lean, muscled man in a black gambeson and matching cotton trousers. His boots remain. Silas steps into the ring and unsheathes his blunted steel blade once more. "Alright, Serafine, lets go."

THE GOLDEN HART - Weapons Rack is now unlocked.

Serafine gets Golden Hart Arena Cutlass from THE GOLDEN HART - Weapons Rack.

Silas gets Golden Hart Arena Longsword from THE GOLDEN HART - Weapons Rack.

Serafine wields Golden Hart Arena Cutlass.

Silas wields Golden Hart Arena Longsword.

Serafine has left the ringside table.

Serafine has joined the ring of valor.

1 Iron Guardsmen wakes up.

1 Iron Guardsmen wakes up.

1 Iron Guardsmen have been dismissed.


Serafine laughs, strips down to cotton trousers and breastband, most of her ink above the waist exposed now. She twirls her borrowed weapon and grins at Silas. "Very pretty, Lord-Commander!"

Silas takes moderate damage.

Serafine takes minor damage.

Serafine takes minor damage.

Silas takes moderate damage.

Serafine takes minor damage.

Silas takes serious damage.

Vayne says to Valencia, "I'd always assumed it's because it's very warm in Lenosia." He seems very relaxed from all the rum by now. "I've had the chance to make several trips there. It's a very plesant climate."

Serafine takes moderate damage.

Silas takes moderate damage.

Serafine takes minor damage.

Serafine takes minor damage.

Serafine takes minor damage.

Silas takes very serious damage.Silas rolls stamina+willpower+survival against difficulty 47, getting 1.Silas remains capable of fighting despite their wounds.

Serafine takes moderate damage.

Serafine takes minor damage.

Serafine takes minor damage.

Serafine takes moderate damage.

Serafine takes moderate damage.Serafine rolls stamina+willpower+survival against difficulty 7, getting 38.Serafine remains capable of fighting despite their wounds.

Serafine takes moderate damage.Serafine rolls stamina+willpower+survival against difficulty 31, getting 17.Serafine remains capable of fighting despite their wounds.

Serafine takes minor damage.Serafine rolls stamina+willpower+survival against difficulty 39, getting 11.Serafine remains capable of fighting despite their wounds.

Serafine takes minor damage.Serafine rolls stamina+willpower+survival against difficulty 47, getting -6.Serafine is incapacitated from their wounds.

Serafine falls unconscious.

Valencia glances to Vayne and her cheeks begin to colour, "It is, yes... but..." she pauses and looks at the Archlector. "Um, yes...." she decides to go with and then offers him a bright smile.


Serafine starts strong but as always, Silas kicks her ass in the end. She enjoys every minute of it though, dodging, ducking, running, but ... maybe she's just tired, or maybe, which is likely the case, Silas is just better at this. Her sparring history with the man replays itself and she goes down with quite the fight, cursing and yelping and finally tumbling into the dirt, panting, sweaty, down and barely conscious.

"You... fuckin' ... prig... bastard... lord...person-" she pants, chest heaving.

Sitting on the edge of her seat as the fight rages and she cannot help but wince as Sera hits the dirt, though she smiles with appreciation at both her and Silas' incredible skill. Having said that, she also raies her eyebrows at her cousin's incredible skill at cursing.

Silas may know Serafine's weaknesses a little too well at this point. She starts off with a clear upperhand over him, her blows landing much harder and it is clear that Silas is not used to fighting unarmored. As they continue to exchange slashes and jabs, however, he finds his stide and begins to fight defensively, essentially eliminating whatever advantage Serafine may have had at the start of the fight and letting the frustration and fatigue wear her down. He ends it with one hard blow with the flat of his blade, sending her sprawling and leaving him on his feet. He smirks at her retort, but bows politely. "Ever the pleasure, Dame Serafine. Good fight."


Serafine salutes her boss with the bird, but the rakish grin on her face as she struggles to sit up takes out any sincerity to the gesture. "Stop looking ...so suave... after I take a pummeling, please.... s'barrassing." She winks at him, then groans as something in her rubs goes -crrcchhhhnngh-. Ow.

Leta's been working on her bottle of wine, cheering at the fight, then turning to wincing and flinching as it turns poorly for Serafine. She sighs and stands up, then moves over to the arena's edge, to pick up Serafine's discarded armor and wait a while to help the knight along.

Silas puts Golden Hart Arena Longsword in THE GOLDEN HART - Weapons Rack.

Serafine rolls to her feet and heads over to Leta, limping, grinning at her woman as she takes her gear and pulls on her underthings and her coat. Her head tilts as she takes in the blonde's demeanor, reaches out and up to squeeze her shoulder. "Alright, I've had my fun and you've had yours. Let's go home, mm?" she murmurs softly, running her fingers across Leta's scarred cheek.

Serafine puts Golden Hart Arena Cutlass in THE GOLDEN HART - Weapons Rack.

Serafine wields The Valiant Woman.

Vayne is overheard praising Silas for: For valiant efforts and honor to Gloria!

Vayne is overheard praising Serafine for: For valiant efforts and honor to Gloria!

[231 The tie breaker was settled between the two top contenders, with the Grayson Guard looking on with appreciating glances and encouraging whoops and hollars. The enjoyment of a one on one battle to finish up the events were entirely Gloria's doing, having likely in some fashion shown her hand this night to see that proper honor is at least, the way to conclude an tribute event to all those in Arx and the world beyond, doing good and right, and serving the Gods faithfully.

Prince Aiden Grayson moves decidedly toward the ring of valor once the conclusion of the fight looks clear, the decisive victory given to one party over the other through a series of steadfast clattering blows of practice swords. Wandering onto the Arena, a bugle is made after the contenders are made sure they can stand. The bugle quick to get the attentions of all. Aiden turns to Silas, then back toward those who remain, "Greed was the motivations behind the man whom acted without valor. I took that as a sign from Gild, that those who are with valor, will also show charity. We must do as we can, to stand together, to not let the odds overwhelm us, to know where our limits are, to know when to stop and put down our swords, and to know, when to ... ask for help." His hand settles on Silas' shoulder, "Tonight, was about courage. About strength. About rising above. All.. of you showed this tonight. Because of that, I will donate five thousand silver to the charity of Lord Silas' choice, and present him with another five thousand for his personal efforts, not only here today, but where it really counts, out there, fighting for all of us."

Aiden looks toward the audience, "I'm pleased you were all here with us today to pay tribute to the valiant efforts of those we recognize amongst us, as heroes."

Serafine applauds Silas until she winces. Alright, time to go home.

Quite a fight and Edward smiles and claps for the victor. "Here here!" he gives a shout among the others, though not as exuberantly. With the conclusion the Lord stretches his arms out as he leans up from the bar and works them around, "Good fight." he says though in a conversational tone mostly to anyone around. "Good fight."

Valencia looks rather pleased and let's out a happy cheer for all the participants and for the Prince of Grayson!

Vayne applauds Aiden. "It was a fine exhibition, Prince Aiden, thank you for organizing it," the Archlector declares.

Silas salutes Serafine when she wanders off to join Leta and presumably leave with her, a bright smile lighting up his face. It feels good to be victorious, but also good to have a good challenge, for him. He turns to watch Aiden approach him during his speech and the smile turns warm when the prince puts one hand on his shoulder. "Thank you for hosting a wonderful event, Your Highness. I haven't had such a good time in awhile. Gloria and Gild be praised." He bows his head demurely. "I will donate the five thousand to the Golden Hart for being splendid hosts. I have no doubt Princess Valencia will see it put to good use."

Serafine gives Silas a grin over her shoulder, bowing to the man. "Thanks for the bruises, boss!"

Leta picks up all the stuff and reaches out to help, with an arm wrapping around Serafine's middle for support. She leans in and places a quick peck on the shorter woman's cheek. She waits a while to listen to the prize, and listen to the final speech. Then, after a few more nods around, she helps Serafine on out.

Valencia looks to Silas and smiles, her her hand ot her own heart. She offers him a curtsey and a whispered, "Thank you so very much."

Aiden nods toward his assistant that was here with him to see it done. Silver will be exchanged as promised.