Reese smiles gently over to Armand. "It is nice to see you again, Lord Armand." She says in his direction. "Are you going to spar or just here to watch?" She asks with curious interest. She then looks over to Dianna, giving her a smile as well, although she doesn't seem too familiar with the lady.

Graham enters into the arena space wearing his armor and weapon at his side. He smiles to see so many gathered and the hostess of course. He moves away from the door way and further in nodding in greeting to those he knows while trying to just get the feeling for the crowd.

"I didn't say anything." Isabetta says to Ian, totally straight faced, like no hint of mirth or anything, just serious, before giving herself away by turning her attention back to the drinks. She wasn't going to give up so easily apparently, though there was the question still of how. Experimentally she inquires about the strongest drink available with the bartender.

The little princess nods warmly to Armand, dark eyes dancing with a playful light, "There is indeed, my lord. I am so very happy that you have come to see it. Welcome to the city. I hope you are finding it well and settling in," she smiles up at him with a little nod. "You will be sparring tonight, yes?" Isabetta's comment gets a strange little look and little cant of head, "Spike the drinks? I would think that is not required for this evening. I promise you, if it is strong drink you seek, there is strong drink to be had in abundance," she promises the huntress with a nod. It is then Reese arrives, and Valenica pardons herself a moment from her guest to offer the princess a warm hug and little kiss on the cheek, "Hello my sweetest cousin. I am so glad you see you. You are sparring tonight as well?" she asks, turning to smile a welcome to Diana and Calarian as they arrive, the smile blossoming even more as Graham arrives. "My lord," she nods brightly to the young lord of Stonewood.

"I would spar, if there's a free spot. I've still not my own sword and armour, but I notice the Golden Heart seems to be well furnished on that account. If we're to use our own, then I'll simply watch." Armand answers Reese. "We'll see, won't we?" he smiles. "And will you?" he asks the Princess General. To Valencia, he nods. "If able. I notice you have quite a few weapons and armour in those chests. Are they to be used for tonight's sparring?" he asks Princess Fox.

Graham moves over towards the hostess as she greets him with a brightness he's come to expect seeing from her at such times. "A pleasure as alwalys your highness." He greets in return with an equal smile. The young Stonewood looks to the approaching asking about armor. "Do you wear metal or leather armor?" He asks curiously.

Alistair arrives bedecked in his Inquisitorial garb. Does he have any other clothing? The concept of a wardrobe might be foreign to the Prodigal High Inquisitor... perhaps one of the aspects of Civilization that he did not take on when he was domesticated. Maybe he is here to watch the spars or participate. He is his distant and forboding self, arms clasped behind his back as he surveys those present.

Ian doesn't seem particularly worried about the drink spiking thing, mind. He sips from the whiskey he's now shifted from knocking back to nursing. His incisive gaze sweeps over the room, and he nods to Dianna. A slight motion of his head is probably an invitation to join him.

Reese has a gentle smile for Valencia that touches her blue eyes. "Princess Valencia." She says gently. She then turns her attention to Armand. "I might spar. I came ready to spar, but it all depends on if anyone wants to spar with me and all that. She does have lots of gear for that." Rees is quick to add. When Alistair arrives, Reese looks over toward him, giving the inquisitor a polite smile that touches her blue eyes.

"But of course. I am so very happy to offer you the use of Hart arms and armor. It is one of the reasons we have them," Valencia smiles, nodding respectfully to Alistair and Weldemai as he makes his way into his customary spot in the rafters. A little sweet smile finds Ian but it would appear that a whisper from a pretty little brunette serving girl reminds the princess that it is time to start the event. "If you will excuse. I should welcome everyone and open the sands," she nods graciously and begins to make her way to the floor of the arena.

Being entirely unfamiliar with the Princess, Dianna could do little more than greet Reese's smile in kind. Though it was only a small one, it was decidedly warm -- probably something to do with the way the skin crinkled up around her eyes. Though she did catch sight of Ian's nod, she waited until she had a glass -- one filled with a clear liquid that smelled absolutely nothing at all like water, but rather like licorice -- in hand to join him. "Lord Kennex," she said, looking him up and down once. "You've survived your journey uprivr, I see. Mostly in one piece, I hope?"

"Of course, I am in your debt." Armand inclines his head to Valencia before turning to Reese. "Seems like I am, then!" he grins. "Well, though I suspect you'll be beating me black and blue, I certainly wouldn't mind sparring with you." He pauses then. "I might take the blue armour then, just to make the colouring seamless." he tells the Grayson Princess.

"As in one piece as I was when I left," Ian agrees. The split lip notwithstanding. That's too recent for him to have gotten up north, anyway. "I didn't see any of the real fighting. Saw plenty of the wasps, though."

"I would spare you, your grace."Isabetta says to Reese politely, and then adds "But I would need to know if there is water offered, I tire easily apparently." Isabetta says easily and without concern for how it makes her sound, then adds, "Oh and a weapon to use."

Waldemai signals for the wait staff to bring up more ale, and maybe a trencher or two as well.

THE GOLDEN HART - Red Armor Tournament Chest is now unlocked.

THE GOLDEN HART - Green Armor Tournament Chest is now unlocked.

Reese looks over to Dianna. "I'm Princess Reese." She says in the lady's direction. She gives her weapon a study. "Nice Glaive." She murmurs, but then turns her attention to Armand. She has a smile for the lord that touches her blue eye sand is dangerously close to be an impish grin. "I have to warn you, I almost always win." She says with no shortage of Grayson pride. Reese then looks over to Ian and sighs. "Wasps..." She says, not seeming to like them. She then looks over to Isabetta. "I would be honored, lady Isabetta."



Gracefully clad in scarlet southern silks that embrace slender waist and sultry curves, the raven-haired Valencia moves into the center of the Ring of Valor. There is a gracious incline of her head as she offers bright and welcoming smile to one and all as she looks about the room. Waiting for a lull, she calls out to the crowd, her voice ringing loud and true throughout the arena.

"My lords and ladies, misseres and madams, dearest friends, again, please welcome to my Hart. As ever, tonight is a night of camaraderie, good company and sportsmanship. This is not a formal event. It is simply one to enjoy a good match, excellent people and strong drink or two."

"All here very are welcome to participate in the matches or to sit and enjoy the skills presented in the ring. Please The bar is open for your pleasure. We hope you will enjoy a drink at the pleasure of the house," the little dark eyed vixen invites the growing crowd with another beautiful smile and a sparkle in her eye.

"As said, this event is becoming a tradition and will mark the move to our upcoming Tournament of Harts later this year. If you wish to support the events of our Hart, or host one of your own, please come me. But for now, thank you for blessing our Hart with your fine company. We hope you enjoy the evening! Please now, warriors, take to the sands. Good luck to you all! Thank you!"

"Well, as long as all the parts that you left with were where you'd left when they came back, I'd say the journey was a success, hmmm?," Dianna asked, arching one brow at him. Of course, that arched brow may be as much as an inquiry into his split lip as it was into his travels, given that she eyed the fresh mark so clearly that, yes, it was obvious she'd noticed it. But then she caught the sound of Reese's voice -- an perhaps more importantly, her name. Dipping into a curtsy, she said, "Lady Dianna Mazetti, of Ostria."

Graham will move further in he will help the staff with sorting the drinks and getting some food settled as well for others to snack upon. He pauses after though to listen to the words of the hostess though turns back around and helps them further. It's hard to say if he will spar this night but for now he's glad to just be helping out.

"No doubt! But even in loss there is learning, and through pain, teaching." Armand remarks to Reese, before listening to their host Valencia speak. He nods when she finishes. "Well then, I'll need time to prepare, but see you in the ring, yes?" he adds to the Princess before making his way to the spare weapons and armour.

To those who acknowledge his presence, Alistair gives a patient and practiced nod. He looks to Valencia as she beings the event, and slowly steps on the sands as the host calls the warriors further. Clearly he intends to fight to some degree.

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

Armand gets Sapphire Serpent Sabatons from THE GOLDEN HART - Blue Armor Tournament Chest.

Calarian strides through into the arena of the Golden Hart. Graceful and courtly in manners and gait, the Prince of Grayson keeps a straightened pose and a noble mien. He is trailed by two servants, Philip and Barcus, and a group of Grayson guardsmen. At the entrance, a messenger is stopped by Philip - who passes a missive, which is then passed quietly to the First Observer. He receives it with a small dip of his chin. Overlooking hazel eyes lift to listen to Valencia and then he inclines his head into an angled bow. One hand set at a longknife sheathed by the hip of his silken-and-fur cloak and the other set on a new item, an ancient and intricately forged steel cutlass, he moves further into the room, trying to consider where to sit.

Armand gets Sapphire Serpent Cuisses from THE GOLDEN HART - Blue Armor Tournament Chest.

Waldemai leads the commoners in the cheap seats in a cheer for the Princess host. "Three cheers for Princess Valencia! Rah! Rah! Rah!"

Armand gets Sapphire Serpent Gauntlets from THE GOLDEN HART - Blue Armor Tournament Chest.

Armand gets Sapphire Serpent Cuirass from THE GOLDEN HART - Blue Armor Tournament Chest.

Armand gets Sapphire Serpent Arm Armor from THE GOLDEN HART - Blue Armor Tournament Chest.

Armand gets Sapphire Serpent Helm from THE GOLDEN HART - Blue Armor Tournament Chest.

Armand wields Golden Hart Arena Longsword.

Orathy has joined the bar.

"Just don't drink anything she gives you beforehand," Ian deadpans to Reese. Sip. "Are you planning on sparring tonight?" This to Dianna. He's been eyeing that glaive with interest.

Orathy happens in upon the Golden Hart, probably because of the silver being passed around and the wagers on people's mouth. He might even look with an interest toward the arena, although, he first settles down at the bar to eye up the surroundings and the competition.

Reese has another smile for Dianna. "Nice to meet you." She murmurs. She then looks over to Ian and her blue eyes widen with feigned innocence. "Lord Ian! I only give out pink berry juice before spars." She says. She watches as Armand starts to armor up.

Valencia slips from the sands to take up a seat, offering a warm nod to Armand as he moves to make ready and to Alistair as he enters the ring, sweet smile finding her lips as they pass. Another bright smile is offered in reply to Calarian as he enters the arena with his entourage. "Good evening," she chimes with warm welcome. "I am so glad you are here. Please be welcome, your highness."

Valencia has joined the ringside table.

Ian twitches a brief smile Reese-ward. "You can spike each others' drinks. It should make for an interesting match." He tops up his glass from the bottle sitting next to it.

As one would expect an Oathlander knight, it doesn't take too long for Armand to be ready. As much as he'll ever be, facing Reese. Still, he returns not long after to the ring, waiting for the moment that Reese is ready to enter it. During that time, he answers Valencia's nod with a small salute, not trusting the helm to truly display more subtle forms of response.

Calarian spots Reese first. "Cousin," comes the single-worded mellifluous greeting. A belated smile at the edge of the lips of the Voice of Grayson. "Nice to see you." His head turns to spot Valencia next, and his chin inclines in recognition. "Your Highness, thank you for your kind greeting and I wish you good fortune in this night you have kindly organized for the enjoyment of common, noble and royal." A pale hand leaves the ancient heirloom cutlass to indicate one of the chairs at the table she has joined. "Perhaps you wouldn't be bothered if I join you? I admit I came here bereft of any agenda."

At that, Dianna arched both of her brows rather than just the one. "Unarmored? No, Lord Kennex, decidedly not." And then, suddenly, she grinned. It was one of her coy expression -- the ones she usually wore when she was making a jest at someone's expense. Most often when that someone was herself. "I'd tear my dress if I did, and that would be a terrible waste."

Ian has joined the bar.

Now Ian's quick, sharp smile is turned to Dianna. "That also would make for a pretty interesting match." His tone is level, calm, but dry humor flashes in his electric blue eyes.

The High Inquisitor motions to one of the servers of the establishment, he intends to drink as well! Taking a glass of some hard liquor he takes a sip, watching as the other fighters converse and interact. "Come now Prince Grayson, even I came here for a little fun. Why not face me first before you take up the Princess's time." the High Inquisitor rumbles out.

Reese looks over to Ian. "I guess that would be interesting, but I am not from the south." She says and seems to be teasing more than anything. She draws her steel mace and heads into the rink, giving Armand another smile. "May Gloria be with us both."

Reese wields Destiny, a high quality mace.

Isabetta frowns at Ian, her brow twitching a bit before she turns to Reese and says "I'll drink your pink berry juice if you'll drink my water that is definitely not whiskey" Her lips quick just a tiny bit

Orathy orders up a drink and watches the match ups, sitting at the bar people watching.

Graham moves about helping those who wish to have drinks get them though he looks to the ring. He smiles "Who will be the first pair to sparr?" He wonders to the crowd while he offers over more drinks only lastly taking his own and finding a seat.

Armand raises his sword in salute, the blade's surface touching his helm. "Gloria guide our swords." he answers. And with this, he steps into the ring, and it's on!

Reese smiles over to her cousin, noticing him now. "Oh, after this spar, I will try your water, Lady Isabetta."

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

Armand has joined the ring of valor.

Graham has joined the ringside table.

Reese has joined the ring of valor.

Thena walks in at the best part, which is Princess Reese heading for the ring. She quietly heads for the bar to murmur an order for something strong, then turns to watch the combat.

"It would please me so very much to have you join me, and it is truly my pleasure to see you here," the little vixen smiles up to the Voice of Grayson, offerining him a delicate hand. "Please sit and tell me how you are fairing, but first what what shall my highness be drinking this evening?" she smile, dark eyes flicking to Alistair with a little smile as he tenders a challenge. She pauses to allow the Prince of Grayson answer, taking curious glance toward Isabetta as she mingles.

Approval was writ all over the woman's face. Ian had made a joke! Delightful. "There's far easier ways to get a woman out of her silks than cutting them to bits at sword-point, Lord Kennex, and ones that will have her far less cross with you after." She took a sip of her liquor -- mostly to keep from laughing too loudly, right when the sparring was about to begin.

Waldemai cheers for the first match. "A thousand..." He checks his pouch. "No, two thousand on the Princess! I win money on her each night, he adds to one of teh common louts he is seated with.

"Reckon I put a 100 silver on that fella there..." Orathy calls for Armand, shifting in his seat as he lays a bet down, wondering if anyone would take him up on it. 100 silver to net in someone to wager against, not a bad way to start a little side competition for the evening!

Armand takes minor damage.

Reese draws her silvery steel mace and starts to fight with Armand. She fights with little armor and has a defensive style. She manages to hit the Lord, but just barely. This blow leaves a bruise at best.

Armand takes serious damage.

Waldemai calls down to Orathy. "A hundred? You are covered, my friend!"

"That's more Porter's wheelhouse than mine," Ian demurs. "Although he swears up and down it can be fun if you have a high pain tolerance." But his attention is already slipping away from the banter and towards the spar, because he's never seen Reese use a mace before, and he's taken an interest in her style of fighting with it.

Max, an emperor tamarin, Rosalee, The Champion, 1 Grayson Guardsmen arrive, following Ailys.

Armand takes minor damage.

Orathy catches someone interested in the bet, lifting a hand to Waldemai to salute and acknowledge that the bet was heard.

Calarian turns his attention to Alistair now. The edge of his lips curve up. "Come now, High Inquisitor," comes his retort in a breathy tone. "This is exactly how I expected our reunion after two months off the city would come. Alas, I am no warrior, but a good challenge I can't reject even at the sage behest of my bones, pleading for mercy. My only condition is that we keep in mind the necessity the realm has for its First Eyes and Ears. Though arguably a few bruises wouldn't stop me from watching and hearing. Maybe from writing." He draws his longknife enough to hint half its blade, looking down at it, up at Alistair and then at Valencia. "The sword my late wife left behind. May it bring us a good battle." And to Valencia specifically, "I will join you, Your Highness, and will drink what ever your good wisdom decides might fit me this eve. I am your guest and you my host. Hopefully, this request will suffice and not come across wrongly."

"A high pain--," Dianna starts, then cuts off, shaking her head and chuckling again. As the fight begins, she leans forward, apparently unconcerned about the railings or the heights, and far more interested in what's happening down on the sands just there.

As one might expect, Reese is not only holding her own against the armoured knight, but is able to score quite a few hits on Armand, while he has yet to put a scratch on the Princess. Still, rather than frustration, the man can be heard laughing. "I need to learn how to move that quickly." he remarks to his opponent.

Reese has her silvery mace drawn and continues to try bashing at the Lord. She is quite skilled at dodging his attacks and has yet to be hit. The Princess got a few good blows in against Armand, but the match is far from over. They both are filled of energy and moving well. She gives Armand a grin. "I can teach you." She says, but her words come quick and short, maybe because she is focused on the spar.

Armand takes minor damage.

Waldemai cheers for Princess Reese! "All glory for Gloria! G-L-O-R-I-A Gloria!"

Armand takes moderate damage.



Princess Ailys is in the stands, cheery as always -- of course she'd be poised and smiling, even in a bloodsport. "Go, Reese," she calls out, half-laughing toward her cousin with the upper hand.



"I really don't understand why people feel the need to chat in a fight," Isabetta remarks toward no one in particular from her spot leaning on the bar. "Did someone want to bet against the Princess? Because I'll take that bet."

Alistair is not the flashy sort. He doesn't really engage in egging and prodding, he simply stares at Calarian as he forms both his acceptance and rejection to the challenge in the same sentence. "I simply wish for a foe that doesn't turn into bees or monologue about devouring my soul, Prince Grayson." He has a bit too many foes that do that.

Armand takes moderate damage.

Ian has forgotten about his drink by now. He watches the spar unfold with a focused gaze.

Valencia smiles up to Waldemai and then to Orathy as they begin to bet. "You are a guest so very welcome, your highness. May I suggest we start with a Lycene red and move north for a good wiskey if it pleases palate?" she suggests, dark eyes glimmering up at him. A little nod is offered to a passing serving girl and soon there is a bottle of rich Lenosia red, a bottle of Northen Gold whiske, Maelstrom rum and Valardin mead on the table. As expected, the little darke haired vixen serves the prince in Velenosan style, a generous portion pour, delicately brought to lips and then graciously offered, dark eyes to his hazel, "This is from my home. I hope you will enjoy it... sweet and rich with a kiss of deep spice to savor."

Armand takes minor damage.

Armand checked stamina, willpower + survival at difficulty 5, rolling 46 higher.

Armand remains capable of fighting.

Armand checked stamina, willpower + survival at difficulty 11, rolling 46 higher.

Armand remains capable of fighting.

Armand checked stamina, willpower + survival at difficulty 44, rolling 4 lower.

Armand checked stamina, willpower + survival at difficulty 15, rolling 51 higher.

Armand remains alive, but close to death.

Armand falls unconscious.

Waldemai cheers for the combatants! "Well fought! Well fought!"

Graham looks to those watching the match and turns towards the hostess. "Your idea has certainly drawn a crowd hopefully I can help the drink continue to flow for the sip portion." He grins a little though as the match ends he'll clap politely for a good match.

Calarian stares back at Alistair with a poised smile playing on his lips, owlish hazel eyes taking in the expressions from the Prince's face. He is only distracted when Reese connects strongly on Armand -- which draws a turn of his head, and a nod of acceptance. Apparently, the Voice of Grayson expected her to excel in her combat. "Very well," he belatedly voices towards Alistair. "I shall be your foe this night then, High Inquisitor. And--" He extends a hand to receive the wine from Valencia after sheathing back his longknife with the sound of metal brushing against leather, and the pommel bumping against the edge. "--I suppose it is a good respite from all the expeditions to the Grey Forest, where all we have fought is crazed slaves of some... entity." He makes a gesture with the wineglass at that last word, before he turns his eyes to meet Valencia's and inclines his head. "Much obliged, Your Highness, and I toast to your health and to this night of bouts, which I hope will be of everyone's pleasure." He extends the glass in offer to toast, taking a sip from the Velenosan wine. His expression ultimately is that of approval. "Strong but elegant, Princess Valencia, this is a most delicate breed of wine. You must tell me all about it after my bout with the High Inquisitor, I insist."

Calarian is also just in time to give another approving nod to Reese.

Orathy takes another swig of ale that he's ordered up, slouching up against the bar, mindful of the fight going on in the arena. He grouses, "Betting against pink doesn't pay..." He turns to his coin pouch, counting out a hundred silver... each silver he counts out, he winces.

Glass of whiskey nearly to her lips, Thena perhaps overhears the word 'bees' and cuts a startled wide-eyed look over at Alistair, but when Reese triumphs the woman knocks back part of her glass, then sticks her fingers in her mouth and whistles loudly.

The fight continues and Reese seems to be quite focused upon such. She might even have missed much of the conversation around her. She fares quite well in this fight, seemingly more because of her dodging nimble grace than her physical strength. Actually her blows weren't as powerful as they might have been with a different warrior. She was so hard to hit though and had all this energy. She is flushed, but not a bit slowed down by exhaustion. She hits Armand again and again, eventually taking the Lord down. Reese is quick to stop when she realizes he has been bested.

Alistair inclines his head in a slight bow to Calarian as he steps more forward onto the sand. His hand crosses infront of his stomach as he grips to hilt of his blade and draws it from the scabbard under his dark red and black jacket, the simple sword is not flashy rubicund, diamondplate or any material that might have some mystical property. Plain steel. Well enough for most jobs the Inquisitor finds himself with. He glances over to watch the fight and conclusion between Reese and Armand, the exchange of blows ringing out as their fight comes to an end. "Well fought Princess."

Calarian has joined the ring of valor.

The sparring match stretches on... and on... And as one would expect, dodging around an armoured opponent does tend to lead them getting rather tired. Though Armand puts up a good enough fight, there's only so much that can be done against an adversary so superior as Princess Reese. The final blow proves too much, and the armoured figure is brought to his knees. Again laughing. "I'd have an easier time fighting the wind. Well fought indeed." He stands, offering his opponent another salute before leaving the ring for the next challengers. And to recuperate from that sound trashing!

Armand has left the ring of valor.

Ian remembers that he's holding a drink as the fight comes to a close. He sips from it.

"Well fought! Bravo!" the little vixen cheers wholeheartedly for the combantants as the battle is waged and won, dark eyes flashing with delight. She turns and smiles again to Calarian. "I should be very glad to, your highness. I wish you well on he sands," Valenica nods, approval in her eyes as he seems to enjoy the wine and seems to be set to spar. "I shall cheer for you, then," she smiles and nods. Settling back, Valencia scans the room to ensure that all are well cared for, a little wink offered to Armand as he leaves the ring and is check by the Hart's mercies just in case. Turning she looks for Lord Graham and motions him to her side.

Reese smiles at Armand's words. She then looks over to the crowd, giving them a smile as well. She peeks over to Calarian as he joins the rink. "Gloria be with you cousin." She says, leaving the rink herself. She then notices Thena. "Dame Thena." She says gently in her direction.

Reese has left the ring of valor.

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

Armand puts Sapphire Serpent Arm Armor in THE GOLDEN HART - Blue Armor Tournament Chest.

Armand puts Sapphire Serpent Sabatons in THE GOLDEN HART - Blue Armor Tournament Chest.

Armand puts Sapphire Serpent Cuisses in THE GOLDEN HART - Blue Armor Tournament Chest.

Armand puts Sapphire Serpent Gauntlets in THE GOLDEN HART - Blue Armor Tournament Chest.

Armand puts Sapphire Serpent Cuirass in THE GOLDEN HART - Blue Armor Tournament Chest.

Armand puts Sapphire Serpent Helm in THE GOLDEN HART - Blue Armor Tournament Chest.

Calarian is all about flashy rubicund. Everything from the silk and fur cloak to the weapon is flashy -- and quite the weapon too. He draws it out again, though it might be particularly notable to eye the fact that it is ineloquent with the theme the Prince of Grayson set. He doesn't look like an experienced warlord. If anything, he looks like your regular nobleman who might possess a bit more flair than skill in combat, and has had some lessons -- but not too much. The weapon, on the other hand, seems to offer a proposal for aggressiveness. It has no crossguard which might serve for solid parries. It is all about wild slashes and hacks. It might be the distant cousin of a weapon a Grey Forest shav might use... but it might be too flashy and too ingrained in city designs for it to be. Wasn't his wife an Abandoned? "Congratulations, cousin," he offers to Reese, followed by a "thank you." Once that is offered, he dons what ever armor he has to don with the help of Philip and Barcus, the former more used than the latter to helping a lord don his armor.

Thena flickers a smile at Reese and lifts her glass as the woman speaks to her. "Well fought, Princess." She leans a little to see if she can get a bead on Armand and lift her glass to him as well.

The young solider moves to stand at the side of Valencia when she motions. Graham had set down his own drink in preperation for watching the match though he will smile warmly "Is all well your highness?" He wonders to her once standing at her side.

Isabetta notices the wave and moves over, drifting with her gaze not on the vixen, but on another brightly colored patron. She drifts like leave on the wind, not at all looking like someone who was called over and is answering the call. She leans down in the same expressionless way as though it were something she was planning to do all along. She even dusts off the knee of her leathers all the while coincidentally near Valencia. She absently brushes a blonde lock from her face.

"I don't think she took a single solid blow," Dianna murmured to Ian as the fight ended. Her expression was thoughtful, then, and it seemed she was musing aloud more than expecting any real response from the man.

Reese looks over to Calarian. "Than you." She says and then looks over to Armand. "You did good." She says. Reese then finds a place to sit and orders herself a mug of ale.

Ian shakes his head. "She didn't," he remarks to Dianna. "Princess Reese is one of the faster fighters I've seen."

"One day at a time." the Farshaw answers Reese. By then Armand has not only removed the armour, in case another wishes to make use of it, but has also turned towards the bar for a good drink. He catches sight of Thena, and gives her a smiling nod in response. Once he gets his drink, he approaches to be within conversation distance. "I don't believe we've met, though you would fit the description given to me by the acting commander of the Knights of Solace, would that be accurate?" Trust an Oathlander to know such things.

Alistair gives a few practiced swings with his blade. Perhaps Calarian learned a thing or two from his wife, as the Prodigal man has an imposing statute what with his uniform and the sheer size of him. They grow them large in the Grey Forest... that is clear, and those of civilization learned that all to well in the past few weeks. For those paying attention, there doesn't seem to be any animus or malice to the man and this is not some Inquisition scheme agaisnt Calarian. An intertwining of fate is all. Alistair turns to regard Calarian as he readies himself and when he steps into the ring the Inquisitor gives a practiced bow.

Orathy moves from the bar and wanders toward the arena, making it clear he's debating competing, looking around for a match.

Orathy has left the bar.

Calarian gives his own inclination of his head to Alistair. He seems to exchange some words with Alistair - his mouth moves where the visor allows one to see such a thing - but it is too lowly-toned for anyone to hear. A smile is given then, after those words , polite and poised, before one hand holds the blade extended and the other one seems to serve for maneuvering around.

Thena takes another sip from her glass, then looks mildly surprised when Armand actually takes the time to approach but since he's within speaking distance now, "Good fight." There's just a little bitty hint of sympathy to it, from someone familiar with Reese's skills. She blinks at what parses as an introduction, and smoothes the skirt of the dress that she's wearing. "Well it can't be the armor, so is it the 'cranky looking' part of the description that matches or the dagger?" 'Cause she's always got the dagger.

Valencia smiles up to Graham and then Isabetta, inviting them both to joint the table. A warm smile and a wave welcomes Armand and Reese as well, as they step off the sands. "All is very well, my Lord Graham. I thought it might be well that you sat for a little and enjoyed matches. You will spar to tonight as well," she asks the Stonewood lord with a hint of hope in her voice. Dark eyes smile again to Isabetta, "I hope you will join us as well, my lady. Did Magnus get you a properly strong drink or may I make recommendation?"

Bianca entered the arena area with her usual aloof footing, though per usual it was difficult to not notice the Archscholar should one be looking her way. Odd features commanded attention and her being itself bubbled over with an underlying energy that could fill any cup. A brief glance was cast about, noting a few familiar faces. Alistair was offered a reverent bow of her head though the action subtle and easy to miss as the man was engaged, and Orathy a soft smile. It was Valencia she headed toward, though.

Isabetta has joined the ringside table.

Lucita steps into the arena, giving a glance around at all those attending. A polite smile is given the strangers, a warmer one to those she recognizes. She gives a little curtsy and wave of greeting to Valencia, seeing her busy at the table and then walks over toward the bar. "Lord Ian, good evening."

Lucita has joined the bar.

Isabetta settles into a seat with her hands folded in her lap and speaks in a rather dry voice, |p121"I just wanted water that was definitely not whiskey, but probably that would not have been strong enough." The way she watches the room with a disinterest that almost suggests she isn't really invested in anything that is going on, or the lazy way her locks of blonde move across her face, not cleverly bound as normal. She's totally letting loose right now.

Orathy does a little posturing at the side of the arena, before he grumbles out in a Lowers Brogue, "Any takers on the next fight?"

"Dagger." Armand replies without skipping a beat. "I have given my word that I would not ever mention anyone using the term 'cranky looking' when describing you, milady." he answers Thena. "Truthfully? I'm out of practice. The fight went about as I expected it to go, especially against someone of her reputation." He pauses, something clouding his eyes... for a moment. As swiftly as it came, it disappears even quicker. "Not tempted to join the sparring? Or is it too close to work to be enjoyable?"

Ian sits at the bar with Dianna, exchanging a few words of conversation but mostly watching the sparring. He looks like he's been in a fight himself within the past couple of days; he has a split lip and a contusion on his forehead. "Lady Lucita." He nods to her. "How have you been?"

Ford breezes into the Arena, hands behind his back as he slowly makes his way further inside. He's looking at this person and that person, never for too long or not long enough.

Reese peeks over to Ian, giving him a grin at his words. She seems to struggle a bit with keeping up socially with this room though. Reese looks over to Orathy. "I will fight you, but only if noboby else does. I want to give others a chance."

Dianna has joined the bar.

Oh! Reese was here too! Bianca lifted a hand in greeting to the princess and her smile broadened as she overheard the woman volunteer for the ring. Soon enough she stood before Valencia's table, her head bowing in greeting. "Good evening."

Graham smiles warmly "I appreciate that. Though I want to make sure that all are seen to as well, someone has to make sure that you rest at some point." He chuckles a little looking to the ring. "I could likely be persuaded to sparr this evening sure. What of yourself?" He wonders if she will do likewise.

Lucita's glance takes in the damages to Ian face. She says. "Well enough, finally getting caught up on a few things I had to do. You been in a scuffle, M'Lord?" She looks past Ian to Dianna and cordially greets her. "Good evening."

A bright smile is sent Lucita's way and a little nod promising to speak to her soon as the lovely Lycene lady moves to speak with Ian and Dianna. Turning, Valencia smiles as Bianca arrives and gracefully rising from her chair to offer her sweet friend a big warm hug and kiss upon the cheek. "You! I have missed you with all my heart. You look beautiful! You will join us, yes?" she invites her with a bright and beautiful smile. "Come, what will you have?" she asks waiting for Bianca to sit before offering another smile to Isabetta. "I am sure we can happily please palate, my sweetest lady. Ask and you shall recieve, yes?" the little dark eyed fox nods. "Your face is familiar but I do not have name. What is it may I ask so I may introduce your lovely self?"

Orathy wears a one-sided grin for Reese accepting his challenge, "Aye. Reckon heard you be the fastest eh? Already fought the strongest. Be welcome to test myself against you." The Lower's brogue is thick as he lingers at the arena, looking toward the present fight then back toward his challenger.

Dianna offered up a welcoming smile when Lucita joined them. "Lady Igniseri," she answered by way of greeting. "How wonderful to see you at another one of the Princess Valencia's events! I think that was where I saw you last, wasn't it?" A pause. "Although, that may have been your sister....," she trailed off, though her words were not unsympathetic. After all, she too was a twin.

Alistair raises his blade in simple salute before he lashes out at Calarian with a few quick rapid strikes, his steel blade... though clearly large and heavy, seems light as a feather in his large hands. The man possesses a raw natural strength that he has no problem using to his benefit. He doesn't fight like some wild berserker of the north, but he also doesn't fight like some civilized Knight of the Compact. He is a mix and an amalgamation of two cultures. Though clearly domesticated to some degree since he is likely one of the most powerful Prodigals in the entire Compact.

Thena lifts a hand briefly to Lucita when the woman passes her near the bar, then the corner of her mouth quirks up at Armand's verbal dexterity. "Fair enough." She tilts her head slightly, noting the clouds that lower and lift, but says nothing about it. Instead she gives a quick little headshake. "Would rather drink and watch. I don't really like sparring in front of people if I can help it."

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

"Princess Marian Redrain was good enough to spar with me a couple of days go," Ian tells Lucita. And then, with a note of dry humor in his voice, he adds: "And by spar I mostly mean parry anything I could throw at her while she beat me into the ground. She's very good at what she does." He takes a sip from his glass, then tops it up from the bottle sitting on the bar.

Calarian checked dexterity + small wpn at difficulty 15, rolling 7 lower.

Calarian checked dexterity + small wpn at difficulty 15, rolling 6 higher.

It was one of those rare moments where the placidity of the Archscholar's features was broken by a bright and girlish smile. Her arms wrapped about Valencia and returned the kiss to the cheek, holding onto Valencia's arm as the lovely hostess was onto the next. She murmured, "Of course I will join, I have missed you as well." And she slid into a seat at the table, hand now free lifting to Ford in greeting as well before attention turned to those unknown at the table as her visage eased back to its normal state. "Hello."

Bianca has joined the ringside table.

Alistair checked dexterity + medium wpn at difficulty 15, rolling 51 higher.

Alistair checked dexterity + medium wpn at difficulty 15, rolling 28 higher.

Reese looks over to Orathy, giving him a smile. "Okay, we will see how this goes." She murmurs. She looks toward the rink, watching the fight between Alistair and Calarian with interest.

Finding a seat at an unoccupied table, Ford slides himself into one of the high seats that looks into the fighting ring. There's a small double take when he catches the eye of the silverhaired Archscholar. He smiles and wiggles fingers in her direction, utterly surprised to see her.

Calarian lifts his own blade in his own manner of salute. As predicted, the Prince of Grayson is more flash than flair. And so, when Alistair comes at him with fast slashes, he starts with a couple of parries. The sound of the two metals being pushed away begins to lag behind as the First Observer begins to get cornered and begins to start missing beats -- finding it necessary to step back, swirl out, or even jog away. Eventually, his defense begins to get breached and Alistair's blade clanks against the armor they made him don.

Lucita's eyes reflect the mingling of sympathy and mirth she feels at Ian's tale. "You survived, though." On spotting the wave Thena gives, she gives a beguiling smile. "Dame Thena, Good to see you again." And to Dianna she replies. "I do believe it was here, and likely both of us. She's the one usually in leathers and has short hair, I'm usually in my favorite, some type of Lycene styled silks.

"Fair enough." echoes Armand to Thena's response. "I don't tend to favour public displays... But I need the training." He takes a good drink of... apparently he chose whiskey. "I didn't introduce myself, didn't I?" he adds as an after-thought. Evidently forgot that little bit of courtesy.

Ian doesn't seem especially concerned about the cuts and bruises the spar left him with. High pain tolerance, probably. "I've lived through worse." Sip.

Valencia looks positively thrilled to see Bianca, nodding warming to her friend before turning dark eyes to continue to watch the match on the sands below. "Welcome home, my sweetest friend she offer. You will have wine, yes? Do you know Lord Graham and, I have yet to hear this lovely lady's name," she grins playfully Isabetta's way. Bianca's nod has her eye following to find Ford at another table. Marquis!" she chimes with a bright smile. "You have found your way back to my Hart! Welcome!"

Alistair makes sure to not just bull charge himself into Calarian and end the fight by knocking the Prince onto his back with raw strength. The man knows the value of a show, at least when those who are watching and those you are fighting are not crazed Shavs or demons. He can risk putting on a little entertainment for those who are watching. His sword clatters against Calarian, the two having a little contest of strength before Alistair sweeps his blade down and pulls it away at the last moment. "A curious blade you wield. Bold... a bit too bold." he remarks, as he could have very well removed Calarian of some of his fingers if Calarian wasn't skilled enough.

Alistair checked dexterity + medium wpn at difficulty 15, rolling 40 higher.

Alistair checked strength at difficulty 15, rolling 12 higher.

"Good to see you too, Lady Lucita," Thena says warmly, and then nods to Armand. "Same...but yes, it is necessary sometimes, whether I dislike it or not." She huffs a little laugh. "You did not. Technically neither did I, but you apparently got the lead on me somehow." A messenger darts up and hands her a note; this is unfolded, gazed upon with a furrowed brow, and then tucked with a near inaudible sigh into a pocket.

"No one of consequence your grace," Isabetta tells Valencia in a casual tone, "Lady Isabetta. Gilden. You may of seen me around the Velenosa grounds, I am roomed there." In fact Isabetta did know who Valencia was but that was typical of ones betters. She stared off as she spoke, like she was thinking of something entirely different.

Ford lifts his hand in a wave and offering a smiles to Valencia, "Good to see you, Princess."

Calarian checked composure + etiquette at difficulty 30, rolling 41 higher.

Bianca's hand flipped to flick in a beckoning gesture to Ford, though as introductions at the table began she turned attention to it. "A pleasure, Lord Graham. Lady Isabetta." And then to Valencia, "Yes, please. I've sorely missed the spice of Lyceum wines."

"Hang around Knights of Solace and Templars long enough and they tend to give you pretty good descriptions of who their respective bosses are." Armand notes to Thena. "Lord Armand Farshaw, recent arrival to Arx." he finally introduces. The sight of the messenger, and the response, makes the nobleman smirk in amusement. "Duty calls?"

A point of taste I can quite agree with, my lady," Dianna said, apparently sharing Lucita's opinions. "I rarely wear my leathers to social functions, especially in the warmer months. Too restrictive. They don't breathe at all." Though here, she wrinkled her nose with distaste. "Of course, my opinion on the subject might change after my first northern winter." Because to Dianna, yes. Arx was 'north'.

Calarian holds the longknife with two hands, his blade trying to push Alistair's blade forward... but slowly it starts to get pushed against him, closer and closer, before the blade of the High Inquisitor threatens to sweep against his armored fingers. He doesn't seem any ruffled by this, and instead swifts his stance to hold his sword in the opposite hand, circling around the Inquisitor, cloak hanging and following behind his shoulders, dangling with each turn and sharp move. Perhaps he is not the most skilled fighter, but rhetoric is a war he likes to fight. "A bold one indeed, High Inquisitor," he replies, a smile visible through the visor of his helm. "But hardly my most bold." He taps his intricate, ancient steel cutlass, sheathed at the hip. Perhaps he does believe in his skill or perhaps he's merely trying to make Gloria proud by fighting valiantly. Or maybe he just doesn't care to lose. At any rate, he tries to aim a strike at the man's legs.

Ford slides his butt out of his chair and makes his way over to Bianca at her behest, a sparkling smile just for her, "Why Archscholar, there is a library somewhere with a Bianca shaped dust outline missing." He teases, immediately going to hug the woman, "It's good to see you again. A lot has happened.."

Graham smiles helping give out a few more drinks to the patrons. "It's a pleasure to meet you." He comments at the introduction though he's also looking at the match going on from time to time. He looks back to the hostess. "Her Highness's Hart will never fail to surprise, trust me on that." He says fondly of the place he's become a regular to.

Something that Isabetta says to Valencia, or maybe something about how she says it, catches Ian's attention. He turns the full focus of his gaze in her direction and fixes it there. He studies her, and he takes his time studying her with a hardness behind the serenity of his contenance before dismissing whatever caused him to do so in favor of the conversation he's ostensibly a part of. "Winter's still some months away, thankfully."

"Oathlands, huh? If it was Sir Daemon or Lord Cristoph I am /not/ their boss, not matter what they said," Thena notes dryly, "But well met, Lord Armand Farshaw." She then hitches her narrow shoulders in a shrug. "Not duty, exactly. Needs tending to but not until I've had at least another drink."

"Everyone is of consquence, my dearest Lady Isabetta. Please be welcome to my Hart. I am glad you found your way here. I hope we will see you more often, yes?" Valencia smiles, turning back to return Ford's greeting with another smile before turning back to the sands, dark eyes watching Calarian and Alistart move, meet and exchange blows and letting out a cheer! "They are well matched. Who do you think will win day?" as she settles down again with a smile. "Do you not think so, Lord Graham?""

Lucita says, "I shiver to even think of it, the cold cuts even through warm silk lined woolen clothing." She comments to Dianna and Ian. "I forsee a lot of time either huddled at home or here. Here is a nice place to be, see people without having to wade through snow and skid across icy patches.""

Isabetta has her cheek in her palm by now and manages in a very dull voice, "Perhaps, if something entices me back in." If Isabetta noticed Ian, she doesn't let on, but probably she didn't, her gaze seems to be on other things, well not really much of anything, she's just sort of staring while her hair finds itself in her face repeatedly. One finger on the tabletop starts to trace a circle and soon it envelopes most of her attention.

"You are welcome to draw your other steel if you feel more comfortable with that Prince Grayson." Alistair declares as he watches the man sweep about him sharply. His sword swings low and sings out as he deflects the blow from his leg, the large Prodigal letting out a growl as he drives his shoulder into Calarian's chest to push him away... using that raw strength to his advantage. As he pushes Calarian away he steps back, bringing his sword up in a wide swing and grabbing it tightly in both hands. The sand shifts, flying up in the air briefly as Alistair slides forward with his sword raised high in a large cleave that is aiming to drive down to Calarian's shoulder. This of course leaves him wide open to the Prince, and if he is inclined to he could likely deliver a death blow if he is willing his own demise. Hopefully they both can stop at the last moment in this game of deadly sparring chicken.

Alistair checked composure at difficulty 15, rolling 1 higher.

"I am always glad to watch a good sparring match, and watching even helps me learn." Graham comments he looks across "Indeed, a rather unique place where all are considered equal here." He will take a few drinks of his own wine while looking back and forth.

"Take the furthest island you can find on a map in the middle of the western seas. That's where I'm from." Armand nods. "I've yet to meet either of those two in person, though my brother has dealings with the latter, I believe." He finishes his mug then and sets it aside on the bar. "Time for me to take my leave. Till we meet again, Commander, Gods guard your path." He bows to Thena, and with a nod in Valencia's direction, the Oathlander takes his leave.

Ian sighs and shakes his head. He takes a longer drink from his glass. "This is a nice place, but even here the walls started closing in by the end of the season. I'm not looking forward to round two." Then he says something quietly to Lucita at the bar.

Calarian gives a grin to Alistair through the visor of the helmet and replies, "I wouldn't wish to spoil the surprise." Everything points out he knows what he's doing. Fact is, he doesn't. The blow he sent is parried away, and he is pushed back-- staggering, with his cloak above the armor trapping his legs -- it makes him fall to the ground, his longknife clattering. He begins to draw his other sword as requested, or as is needed. The steel cutlass looks like an old weapon, forged in a style quite different from that in Arvum. It is sharp and wickedly curved, and the handle has the image of a single teardrop and the handle is forged with an arching fork of lightning. Before he can even use it, though, he finds his shoulder under the vicious slash of Alistair -- who might or might've not stopped. At any rate, he's stopped from wielding his blade, either by surrender in obvious defeat or by injury.

Bianca leaned aside to return the embrace the Marquis, "I am happy to see the siege did not smother your humor, Ford." She spoke with a gentle familiarity. "I've heard a few rumors of the events that passed during my withdraw to study, but that is all. Perhaps you could catch me up on current events?"

"Lord Kennex looks at everyone that way," Dianna advised, a hint of amusement creeping onto her face. "He looked at me like that once; I thought he might've been gawking at me in horror after something or other I'd said, but it seems he was only staring because of my //name//." And here, she in fact rolled her eyes at Ian, giving him a chastising look. Of all the things to find interesting, he chose that, for reasons that were far less entertaining than one might hope.

Orathy has joined the ring of valor.

"Another time, to be sure." Ford replies to Bianca, giving her arm a fond squeeze, "I'm not cruel enough to downtrodden anyone's moods..." That's when he sees Isabetta making lazy circles with her finger on the table and purposely sticks his finger to interrupt and counter circle her self hypnotism, "Even if some are already in terrible moods. What's your name, young lady?"

Valencia is riveted by the fight below now, dark eyes held to the fighting floor, breath held fast.

The heavy steel blade does not cleave Calarian in half, the High Inquisitor bringing it to a stop just about whatever armored pauldron or cape clasp the man wears. "I can suggest a teacher or two if you desire..." The large man rumbles as he peers down at the Grayson Prince. "It would do you well to learn the blade better. Eyes and Ears have a tendency to be plucked out or cut off. Or worse." he states lowly as he pulls the sword away and offers a hand to the man to help him up. "I thank you for giving me a moment to practice against a better blade." He clearly means a literal blade. "I have found that simple steel does not get one far in the world today." Who wonders why that is...

Lucita nods to Ian. "With you walking better, you can always visit down in our district." To Dianna she grins, I can understand that. I think I got stared at because I teased him, maybe, never did ask why really." Her attention drifts toward the fight in progress.

Waldemai watches the fight. What else is there to do up in the cheap seats? Oh, right... "More ale!" He waves his arm around. "Pitchers of it, for all of us!"

Orathy jumps down into the arena, or crosses into the arena, one and the same. He regards the High Inquisitor and the Grayson Prince, "Steel, simple or not, can still be doing killing." He offers the two in his brogue, "In the right hands."

The call for more ale does not go un heart, though it takes an agile serving girl or two to get Waldemai his order way up in the rafters. In the end it is little Lizette, confident as a cat, who brings him his drink, carefully balancing on the broad beam he is sitting on and serving him with an impish smile.

"Fair enough." Bianca murmured in reply to Ford, an ink-stained and calloused hand reaching out for her glass. A rather heavy gulp was taken and attention shifted to Isabetta as Ford interrupted her silence.

Ian tops up his drink, sips from it, and waits out the teasing until it's mostly run its course, before allowing: "I could probably be paying attention to something more worthwhile, couldn't I?" Like the confrontation happening down in the sparring ring, which is what he decides to focus on.

Valencia, cheeks flushed with excitment, cheers again for the Prince of Grayson and the High Inquisitor as their match comes to end, offering a bright smile to both combatants as they step from the sand. Reaching for the bottle, Calarian's glass is of course filled agian and waiting for his return, and another glass awaits Alistair should he wish it.

The sparing bout over, Calarian lifts a hand to help himself up. "And yet, here I am," he replies, unbothered by the suggestion as he always is. "But I digress, High Inquisitor. It's not the blade the Eyes and Ears must fear." He kneels to pick up his longknife, sheathing it on his other hip. He takes his time, before he turns to look at his retinue and the back at the Abandoned Inquisitor. "After all, eyes and ears alone have no mouth to voice any enemies." He removes his helmet and bows his head. "Much obliged for the training."

Isabetta stops twirling her finger when she runs into Ford's finger, looking mildly annoyed for a moment, staring at Ford briefly. "Shh, I am trying to convince the princess to entice me back to her.. har-" This is when she notices that Valencia isn't paying any attention to her at all. Now looking at Ford somewhat less annoyed she replies, "Isabetta Gilden." Accepting her fate.

Alistair steps away after helping Calarian up, sheathing his blade as he watches the man closely. "I can assure you, the excuse that you would never say anything... doesn't step most people. Or things." The High Inquisitor warns before he gives a practiced bow to the Prince. "I thank you for letting me steal you away." he glances over to Valencia and bows his head to her as well. "I shall let you return to your promise of wine, as you deserve."

Orathy snorts at Alistair and Calarian, moving into the arena, peering toward where his challenger was at.

Ford moves himself into the seat next to Bianca, "Well Isabetta Gilden. I'm Marquis Ford Kennex, this is Archscholar Bianca Wyrmguard." He says, gesturing to Bianca, "And if you'd really like to capture Valencia's attention, try your hand at jumping into the ring and fighting the biggest baddest...ugliest oaf in this place. She likes watching fights. Or.. drink yourself into a stupor. It's what us mere mortals prefer."

Graham claps for the match and takes a few drinks from his own wine. He looks to the next pair seeming to step up and looks approvingly at it since well he's always glad to try and learn by watching. He looks back to the table though "Perhaps I am off the hook for sparring so far, until next we cross blades your highness."

Reese looks between her cousin and the inquisitor, but she seems a bit confused by their exchange. Still she gives them a smile. 'Well fought!" She then peeks oer to Orathy. "Are you ready, Master Culler? Ready to get your ass beat?"

"Eyes and Ears don't need anything but Eyes and Ears, High Inquisitor, otherwise I would've joined other organizations," Calarian mysteriously replies with a cordial smile for Alistair as he's helped off his armor. At least he's not that injured! Probably his back will hurt tomorrow, but all in all he's unscratched. That is to say, he would've been finished as soon as the bout started, but he's unscratched! He bows his head again to Alistair. "I look forward to seeing you again, High Inquisitor." Turning around, he heads back to Valencia's table and looks down at the newly-served glass. "Princess Valencia, you are most kind. I hope you enjoyed the match, even if - alas - I am not a warrior by birth."

Lucita is sitting at the bar with Ian and Dianna, watching the spar and exchanging quiet comments with them from time to time.

Orathy mutters to Reese, in a grizzled rumble, "Reckon I might like that!" He glances toward the audience, having heard the comments, though he paces in the arena, warming up his limbs.

Quiet comments. Hah. Ian is enduring what's shaping up to be a pretty good, solid teasing at the bar -- at least from the looks of things -- with a stoic acceptance of his lot. As long as you don't see the humor that comes and goes, flashing in his impossibly blue eyes.

5 Grayson Guardsmen, Crom, a solidly built bullmastiff, Songbird, a mastiff arrive, following Lark.

It wasn't long before the glass in her hand was drained. The last drop passed her lips and she leaned for a minor correction. "Wyrmguard no longer. I forewent that surname in an official capacity with my oaths, though that is not to say I do not love my family of course." Bianca nodded as if to confirm her words, though Orathy and Reese's fight soon garnered her attention.

Reese draws her steel mace and makes her way into the fighting rink. She gives Orathy a smile at his words. "May Gloria be with us both." She adds in his direction.

Isabetta nods a little as Ford speaks to her, as though she's really listening to what he has to say, then she replies, totally straight faced. "What I was going to say to the Princess was that I only wish this place was well and fully stocked with my favorite drink, Third Wall. It's an Ostrian cherry brandy. If you have no tried it I would compare it to a kiss from a man, or woman.. whatever you prefer that starts at your lips and warms you to your toes. Liquid paradise." Isabetta manages to deliver this completely straight faced and even concludes it with an audible sigh.

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

Ford's comments turns the Vixen's head. "Or make such an inetersting comment and her attention is quite caught, yes, my sweetest Marquis," Valencia smiles sweetly his way, eyes flashing brightly. "My apologies for distraction, my Lady Isabetta. I do not mean to be rude. If it pleases, a quiet word is all that is required should you need me," she smiles gently to the woman. Another little look is offered Ford's way, but then Calarrian arrives back at the table. "You were very formidable and you showed most bravely upon the sands. I am grateful that you honoured us with a show of such skill."

Whatever it was that Ian and Lucita had just said, Dianna burst out laughing. It was a warm sound, a bright sound, and came to her entirely too easily. That smile looked like it belonged on her face.

Ford ticks one of his eyebrows up, "Truly? I'll keep an eye out for it." However the Marquis was no stranger the apathy being hurled his way, so he twists in his chair and focuses on Bianca, "When did you return to town?"

Alistair does not instantly retreat after his bout with Calarian. It can hardly be called a victory or defeat for either of them, the two seeming to put on a show as they converse on the sands. Probably some clandestine disucssion that the cover a fight is perfect for! He steps towards Valencia's table as she pours out a glass of wine for him. The High Inquisitor pinchs the wine glass by the stem... take a sip and giving a nod to the host.

Calarian has left the ring of valor.

Calarian has joined the bar.

Calarian has left the bar.

Calarian has joined the ringside table.

Isabetta is apathy, sometimes, except apparently when it comes to Third Wall, Cherry Brandy. "Yes, Third wall, it would get me in the circle, the surest way to a lord or lady's heart." applies it thick, then Ford looks away too and she puts her cheek back in her palm.

Alistair has joined the ringside table.

Calarian gives a grateful inclination of his head to Ford. "Most thankful for your words, Your Lordship," he replies with a smile. "I am glad you enjoyed the combat and more than glad that I won't need to take a break from my duties for some manner of injury again." There is some humor in his tone.

The Crown Princess arrives to watch without much pageantry, though still with her regular retinue of politely-distanced guardsmen and her surly bullmastiff. And while Lark doesn't go so far as to look overtly excited (imagine), her focus is quickly drawn to the bout and beyond a brief glance aside to see if anyone familiar to her is already present, it stays there.

Orathy and Reese... are bouncing around eachother. Orathy is quick on his feet and between the dodges and the parries, the fight isn't at all decided. He's offering her a good challenge at least, though they're catching a lot air between their weapons and the odd clang and cling when weapons clash!

This is quite the fight. Orathy and Reese have been going for some time now and haven't even touched each other. Neither are tired either. Reese dodge and parries all of Orathy's attacks against her, the princess having an extreme nimble grace. Orathy is also able to evade all her blows.

Ford lifts his hand to a passing servant and stops them in their tracks, "The Lady Gilden is talking a big game about something called Third Wall? Surely you have some here..." But then he stops and looks back to Isabetta for a moment, slightly playful smirk, "Unless she has some on her, the way she's selling it, she must have some in a suitcase under the table."

"Truth be told, I have been here though deep underground." Bianca shrugged slightly, though another smile was spared to Isabetta. Glancing between her and Ford a brow arched. After a beat she continued, "Studying in hopes of uncovering further insight into the events at hand, or at least something to aid the whole."

"I imagine your endeavors were successful? Or at least progress." Ford responds to Bianca.

Orathy takes minor damage.

Reese finally manages to hit Orathy after many many tries. It is not a serious hit by any means and the spar continues. She seems fully focused on the warrior, not paying the room much attention as that could distract her.

There is a little pause and then a smile to Isabetta, "I have a sweet friend who enjoys peach brandy and have developed a tast for it, but this I have never tried. A bottle then, for this seems perfect for this night," Valencia smiles, taking a moment to glace to the match blow as the battle rages on with both fighter moving back and forth across the sands seeming to test each other. The little southern princess turns to the table, "A glass for all," she invites, turning to nod and smile and sweet Anna as she passes, with a glance to Ford and then away. "Two bottles in case others may with to try it, if you please. And tell Lizette she may be excused to see to the Main Hall as it pleases her."

Waldemai cheers for the princess again, although she's fighting a much larger and seemingly wiser, opponent. "Say who's that new fellow? He looks pretty cagey."

The Culler is older, that is clear. Though he's fast and has kept up to the Princess thus far, it's clear that his age is starting to set up against him. He can't keep up the fancy foot work required to spar with the warrior Princess for long. He's tiring, he's slowing. It's not entirely something that any eye can notice, but those who are skilled can see it. His reaction time is slowing down. He's panting a little too hard now! Orathy doesn't give up though, continuing despite this becoming an uphill battle for the older man.\

Orathy takes serious damage.

The truth was Isabetta didn't have a preference for a type of brandy, she just enjoyed brandy. She wasn't going to admit that now. Instead she just kept her utterly straight face and looks up to watch the servers a moment. Talking up products was fun in a sort of silly way, but she'd already gone too far, so she fell back into her familiar silence. "I think brandy could get me in there against Her Grace, Princess Reese..." Long pause, "If the Princess is the one drinking the brandy and I get to decide how much."

Reese is full of all this energy. Her cheeks are flushed and her blue eyes are bright, but she hasn't slowed down at all. She doesn't give Orathy a break, but presses on all the harder now that he seems to be getting exhausted.

"More pieces of a puzzle. I am hoping once I compare notes with a few others and am brought up to speed on the last year of my absence those pieces will fall together." Bianca inhaled a short breath, "It has been nice seeing those I am familiar with." She gestured toward the ring, "Orathy Culler's writing improvement is astounding, for example. That has been one of the most pleasant surprises since I pulled my head from my books."

Lark picks her way around to a good-enough vantage point; amidst the boisterous cheers and raucousness that erupts amongst patrons when Reese lands a blow, she might be spotted politely applauding - her gaze is drawn aside just long enough for her to note she's wound up near Valencia and company, and perhaps catch her eye.

"That seems to be the way of things lately." Ford agrees with Bianca, "We have hundreds of pieces to a puzzle that has no edge, or a picture on the box. And yet, we're all still diligently sticking those pieces together as best we can."

WHUMP. Orathy feels that one. It's right across his back when he opens himself up in a bid to regain some leverage. The Princess saw it and easily hammered her weapon into him, which makes his hand go back to the point of impact and his walk as he arches against the hit go on his tippy toes. Once he walks off the kidney shot, he pivots to see the Princess right there, not willing to give him a breather. He has to double back and bounces away from another intended whack that grazes off his armor with a WHOOF of air. He scowls and tries to push onward, though he is clearly on the defensive!

Max, an emperor tamarin have been dismissed.

Rosalee, The Champion have been dismissed.

1 Grayson Guardsmen have been dismissed.

Calarian checked perception at difficulty 15, rolling 1 higher.

Orathy takes moderate damage.

Calarian watches the bout, though he does grant a brief smile to Valencia -- before his eyes lose focus on the bout again, remaining thoughtful. It takes him a beat, two, three. "I do hope you have been well, Princess Valencia," he offers the small-talk to Valencia. "And that you are enjoying the bouts, aren't you?" Another smile surfaces his lips as he gestures to Reese and Orathy, where his cousin is once more connecting the big blows. His hazel eyes lift to spot Lark approaching the table of Valencia and, by extension, the table he's sitting at. He rises from his seating, offering her a warm smile and bending himself into a bow for the Crown Princess of Grayson. "Your Grace, it has been some time."

Lucita is sitting at the bar with Ian and Dianna, the two women apparently teasing him between spars, though the fight seems to be capturing their attention.

Orathy takes moderate damage.

Orathy takes minor damage.

Malesh finally actually arrives, wine goblet in hand from some other part of the building. The sounds of sparing draw his eyes to the ring, but he's not looking for it in particular. His long legs taking him in few steps over to the ring side table. His brother and the hostess are there, so it's a good place to start. "Another successful evening I hope, Princess Valencia?"

Bianca stood amidst a nod, "Indeed. If you will all please excuse me, though. I need to step out and scribe a message before it slips my mind." She dipped a bow to those present and off she went!

Orathy takes minor damage.

It would seem Lark does catch Valencia's eye and the little southern princess could not look more pleased. "Your higness," she calls out with a bright smile. "How lovely to see you! Come, won't you join us, yes? How have you been?" she chimes, happily inviting Lark to join them with a little wave of a delicate hand. "May I introduce Lady Isabetta and Lord Graham, I believe you know everyone else, yes?" she offers, hoping to introduce everyone at the table.

Orathy takes minor damage.

Isabetta gestures with a flick of her fingers toward the fight, "Did I mention that Third Wall also is the best remedy after a long and tiring match? He'll need some too, probably a lot." She licks her lips and lapses back into silence, the tiniest of grins playing across her lips.

Bianca has left the ringside table.

Orathy checked stamina, willpower + survival at difficulty 4, rolling 45 higher.

Orathy remains capable of fighting.

Estaban comes walking into the arena looking around his blue eyes looking about happy to see so many to show up for the event, he is dressed in his house armor that colored in white and greens with a sword at his side and bow strapped to his back. He moves in further in a slow walk as he is no rush to get any placing a small smirk on the mans face when he looks to the ring at the spar that is going on.

"I've been handling a plague of boats and boat-related issues," Lark replies conversationally back to Calarian, though her clipped tone hints she's not going to elaborate on it. She inclines her head politely to Valencia, then Isabetta and Graham in turn as they're introduced - but she remains standing so she can better watch Reese and Orathy.

Reese's expression is quite somber as the fight continues. She seems to even take casual spars so seriously. She doesn't pay the room much attention. Even while having such an edge, she doesn't let her guard down at all.

Orathy checked stamina, willpower + survival at difficulty 25, rolling 30 higher.

Orathy remains capable of fighting.

Waldemai whistles. "He's taking a beating but keeping his feet. Good man! Good man!"

Isabetta manages a polite look at Lark and a equally polite dip of her head, solemnly and remains quiet. She actually seems rather relieved when the princess chooses to stay standing and no join the table.

Orathy checked stamina, willpower + survival at difficulty 83, rolling 36 lower.

Orathy has rolled a critical success!
Orathy checked stamina, willpower + survival at difficulty 46, rolling 74 higher.

Orathy remains alive, but close to death.

Orathy falls unconscious.

Ford slides out of his chair, "Your grace, you're welcome to my seat. I'm on my way out." He gestures to his seat for Lark, nodding his head as he collects his few items he brought with him.

Lucita glances up toward the entry, spotting Estaban and lifts one hand in a discrete wave toward him then glances at an empty stool beside her. "OH, Princess Reese got him. What a spar!"

Isabetta discretely glowers after Ford, or at least after his offer. She bites her lip, starting to look a little uncomfortable. "Excuse me, Your Grace." Isabetta murmurs in a manner suggesting she's actually trying to get drowned out in the crowd and tries to slide her own chair back.

Graham claps at the end of the spar. "It was quite a match indeed." He takes a drink from his wine glass setting it down though he looks back around the room. "It's a very nice gathering i'm glad for it."

Orathy does get the experience of a lifetime! Being bested by a fair haired Princess has got to be up there on this older man's bucket list! Though he's changed in his fighting. It's become less trained and more primal. More animalistic in the way he launches himself wildly and without the honed edge of a knight trained. This is more of a man on the brink of trying to survive against the warrior Princess famed in the realm. He goes down once, but rises again and attacks even more recklessly. The second time the blow hits him it staggers the old man and drops him to his knees. He should be down and out but he resists and pushes up again, shaking it off and twisting the blade in his hand to make one final run at the woman. Leave it up to her to ensure he goes down hard for the last time! He ends up somewhere sprawled out, breathing heavy... dazed and confused!

Waldemai cheers for everyone. "Well fought! Well fought!" Of course, the quantity he has consumed by now might be influencing his judgement.

Well, once the bout's over, Lark graciously decides to accept Ford's newly-vacated seat with a "Thank you." She perches, crossing her ankles aside - Isabetta is granted a semi-distracted gesture of dismissal; Lark doesn't seem to pick up on, or at least react, to the lady's discomfort. "Reese is incredibly dedicated," she instead remarks to the table.

A smile is returned to Calarian nd she nods. "I am, your highness. It is something I have always loved. Even when I was a little girl," she offers back. "I only wish I was so talented as Princess Reese. Gods, I should love to be so beautifully skilled." Dark eyes lift to Waldemai as he calls down from the rafters and she cannot help but smile at his enthusiasm. A warm nod is offered to Estaban as he arives but her attention is drawn by the Marquis Marlesh., "My dearest Marquis Stonewood, how glad I am to see you. Please be welcome in my Hart. It seems to be another fine and exciting night, and the company could not be more adored. You will join us, yes? Will you be sparring tonight, my lord?" she asks, turning to Graham to nod in agreement. Dark eyes fall back to the ring.

Isabetta has left the ringside table.

Reese finally takes a powerful swing against Orathy and this blow is likely enough to send the large man to his knees. She looks down at the sprawled Culler and sucks in a soft breath. "You stood longer against me than most people." She says with that Grayson pride weaving into her tone. "Well fought." She says and then crouches down to make sure he is okay. She even offers an arm as if trying to help him up.

Waldemai hears a messenger calling his name and whistles shrilly. "Phhhweeet! Up here!" In the cheap seats, with the rowdy types.

Malesh claps, lightly as he's got a goblet of wine in one hand, for the warriors in the ring. He's standing near the ringside table with a bit of a crowd. He's drawn from his little congratulations when Valencia asks him about sparring, to which he laughs, "Oh, no I'm afraid my dear princess that I am no fighter. Unless you intend to hold a contest of numbers, I would only embarrass myself." He gestures with his goblet to his brother Graham, "He's the fighter, you should prod him."

Killian slips in, dressed more for the road or adventure than in the finery of noble life or the armor he is so often in. He looks around, eyes surveying the room, before he heads purposefully in the direction of Lark, looking relaxed and unhurried as he makes his way over. A small bow of his head is offered, as he moves to stand silently nearby, waiting to see just what mischief is afoot.

Graham looks back at the familure voice "Ah, brother welcome." He greets and then a chuckle escapes him. "You mean you will not sparr with me then?" He says with a mock sigh though still he motions "Feel free to join us all the same."

Estaban smiles over to Lucita, "Be there shortly." he says over to her then he spots Valencia returning the warm smile. His eyes fall onto Reese and a grin crosses over his face and heads in her direction.

Orathy looks up toward the arm that is offered and nods, clasping his hand with her arm, "Aye... Help an old man up eh?" He gives a good natured grunt, "Seems the stories about you be true. Shit..." He misjudged that one he did! Once he finds his feet underneath him, he grumbles, "I think that be enough of that... Getting too old for this..." A look up toward Waldemai, "You got fucking drinks up there?"

Ryder the falcon arrives, delivering a message to Waldemai before departing.

Alistair sits quietly at the ringside table, watching as more fights go on in the sands. He idly enjoys the glass of wine, occasionally tipping it to his lips to take a sip as he watches the next round of fighters dance about in combat, Reese claiming another victory in the sands. The High Inquisitor raises a glass in salute to her and her victory but otherwise remains his quiet self.

Isabetta lingers by the bar for a moment or two, stifling a yawn while making a long trip toward the exit and finally exiting.

Orathy has left the ring of valor.

Orathy has joined the upper rafters.

Calarian's brows lift and his lips spread with a hint of polite amusement. "Well--" There's a brief pause. "--you know that if you ever need any help with... boats... your dutiful voice will always be ready to offer you aid and guidance." There's a deferential press of a palm against his chest at that, and he bows his head deeply for the Crown Princess. "I am glad you've given yourself some time to enjoy some bouts. I had the pleasure of sparring with the High Inquisitor." No mention of the result. His attention turns to Valencia, making a thoughtful 'hm' to her musings. He replies with a conversational flick of his wrist. "Some are good for combat, others are good for diplomacy, others are good for handicrafts and others are good for events. The variety of skills at our disposal are immense, of course. Reese happens to be one of the best and most honorable warriors in the Compact." He gives a shallow nod of his head as if this was a solid fact.

Waldemai waves to the big fighter, like himself pushing middle age. "Plenty of ale, fellow, plenty, and we're buying for anyone who gets into the arena with Princess Reese." He waved to the nearest staffer. "More ale, you best for the fellow here!" He sticks out a gnarly hand and add, "Waldemai Eisenhu, armor smith."

Reese tries to help Orathy to his feet. "Some of the stories about me are true. Some not so much." She says toward him. Now her voice is gentle and her intense focus has faded. She even has the grace to blush for some reason or another, maybe aware of the two back to back wins. She smiles toward the crowd. "Gloria be praised." She says and then heads to the bar.

"Killian," Lark greets with that often-reserved warmth in her voice; the Crown Princess is seated with a gaggle of other notables, and she extends a hand in the fair lord's direction in invitation for him to sit by her. Calarian's recollection gives her pause, and for a moment she looks like she's about to speak again, but in the end, she doesn't ask for the results of his bout. Maybe she doesn't need to.

Orathy nods to Reese, "Aye... Most of it feels fucking true-" he exclaims toward her with a sudden pat on her shoulder, respectful as he makes his way off the arena, with a hunch to his frame. Ouch. Ouch. Ouch. He waves up to Waldemai, "Better be a whole damn pitcher up there...!" And he'll make his way up, slowly, because he's going to feel that beating for a while!

"Just so, your highness. Though one can try to master more than one skills set, yes?" Valencia grins playfully, reaching to take up her glass again. Dark eyes lift to find Killian arriving and there is a bright smile for him as well. "And now here is a handsome face I have not seen in some time. Welcome back to my Hart, sir. You are so very welcome," she offers with a warm nod.

Killian gives a glance towards Valencia and smiles, nodding greeting to her as well before he moves to settle where Lark has indicated, looking a bit surprised perhaps. He looks around the establishment, having not really realized that an event was afoot from the looks of him, leaning to say something quietly.

Waldemai calls down from the rafters, "Hey! More ale up here!"

i Lizzette gives Waldemai a bold smile and takes the challenge of once again climbing the ladder with a jug of ale in hand, offering the man a smirk and a wink as she fills up his cup.

Estaban smiles, "YOur Highness it is good to see you." when he makes it to Reese and walks over to the Bar with her where Lucita and co are.

Malesh just watches and shakes his head as the rafter dwellers demand ale and, with the host being ever acomidating, the staff moves to meet it. He refocuses on the people around him, noting, "I've seen so many Grayons lately, I begin to wonder if we aren't taking over the city." He nods and raises his cup to Killian and Lark then, by way of hello.

Ashe, the studious Stormward paralegal, 2 Kennex corsairs arrive, following Octavia.

folds her hands delicately in her lap as she replies quietly to Killian (in her case, without bending or attempting to obfuscate her whispers); at a more audible volume, she elaborates: "Reese, and Calarian -" she switches gears in the middle of her sentence, an slight dry, teasing humour edging her voice "- That's bold, to tell me you're ill-prepared." While it's an understatement to say her facial expressions tend to be understated, anyone who knows her well could see amusement.

Reese has joined the bar and she orders herself a mug of ale. She seems to have fallen a bit quiet, as large crowds sometimes overwhelm the princess. Her social talents seem greatly stunted compared to her physical ones. She does have a smile for Killian. "Lord Ashford."

Calarian rises from the table after some time. "That we can, Princess Valencia," he agrees, lifting his wineglass to finish it. "Alas, I must retire for the night, I fear, but I must thank you for the evening. It was enjoyable." He bends himself into a bow for Lark -- even after his name was mentioned. "Your Grace, Lord Ashford, be well."

Waldemai waves at the messenger. "Come up, tell me what it is, and have a mug afore you go!"

Ryder the falcon arrives, delivering a message to Waldemai before departing.

"Be well," Lark adds after Calarian. "I hope you do intend to retire; that you're not intending to 'retire to your study'."

"Thank you again for coming, your highness. I am so very glad you did," Valencia smiles to Calarian. "I hope we will see you again, soon, my dear prince. Thank you."

Lucita says, "That was a wonderful spar, Princess Reese. You know it was exciting enough that Lady Dianna and I completely lost track of the way we vexing Lord Ian.""

Octavia steps into the Arena late to see if there's anything worth watching, a cup of wine in her hand from her stop at the bar.

Reese peeks over to Estaban, having just noticed him. Her social skills in large crowds can be a bit challenged it seems. "Lord Estaban." She says gently in his direction. "It is nice to see you again. It has been too long." She then turns to Octavia, giving her a smile of greetng as well.

Killian checked command + teaching at difficulty 29, rolling 10 higher.

Killian checked command + teaching at difficulty 10, rolling 11 higher.

Ian seems to have accepted his lot in life. Especially since the relentless teasing part of said lot seems to be on hold right at the moment. He takes a sip of his drink.

Calarian gives a faint smile to Lark in return, his tone adopting a slightly amused edge to it. "I fear I couldn't lie to you, Your Grace, as I serve you and you must know that I indeed intend to retire to my study so that I could sort out paperwork in your honor as the Minister of Loyalty of the Bastion. A monstrous offense, I know it, but 'tis the misfortune of my dependencies, this compulsive compulsion I have to the phrase, the motto, perhaps the mantra: None Greater Than Grayson. Alas, I shall have to ponder on penitence for this." With a gracious bow of his body to Valencia, he adds before he turns around, "I pray I can see you again soon as well, Your Highness. Thank you very much for everything."

Killian gives a small little smile at something, but doesn't make any real commitment to the conversations going on otherwise. A nod is tossed to Reese, then a little bow of his head to Calarian and a smile towards Estaban, as he looks around the room. He glances then towards Calarian's response and says to Lark, "You know, a messenger could beat him back to the estate and arrange that his study be locked and barred so he couldn't get into it," he suggests to her helpfully.

Estaban smiles, "It has, Princess Reese have you meet Lady Lucita yet?" he looks to Lucita with a smirk and when Killian looks his way and bows his head giving the man a smile of greeting in return. He looks up into the rafters taking note of who is sitting up there his eyes lingering on Orathy for a long moment then looks back to those he is speaking with.

Octavia lifts her glass in greeting to Reese, then slips over to offer Valencia a hug in greeting. The judge seems to have some things on her mind, but at least she can be somewhat sociable with the correct quantity of alcohol greasing the gears.

Malesh chuckles along as he listens in on the conversation, but as the majority of the people talking are above him, and talking about someone also above him, he just holds his tongue and listens. He does sip his wine though, a hand moving to rub at his wrist some.

Reese turns her attention to Estaban. "Oh, I have had that honor." She says, giving the the musician a smile.

"My lovely and sweetest Lady Octavia!" the little vixen calls out with a bright smile as Octavia arrives, hugging the striking womana with warm enthusiasm. "How beautiful to see you! You will join us yes?" she invites with a nod, gently touching the chair at her side. "You look lovely tonight. Thank you so much for coming. You know everyone here, yes?" she smiles fondly, looking to the other faces seated at the table and introducing people as required. Taking up her glace again she smiles, "How have you been?"

Lucita smiles up at Estaban and says. "We have met and had a delightful conversation about families and connections. I was so caught up in the topic that lost track of time.

"I could," Lark pretends to consider aloud to Killian, brushing fingers along her lower jawline; she doesn't draw the joke out on poor Calarian any further, however; he may go. She falls contemplative and decides to listen a moment instead, her attention tracking to Estaban, Reese, and Lucita.

A taunt from the upper rafters: "Saik! Get in there and fight!"

Ian shakes his head at whatever Dianna says, and turns his attention to Estaban. He nods a solemn greeting. "Something to drink?"

Calarian has left the ringside table.

Reese peeks back over to Octavia at Valencia's words. "I do like your outfit, Lady Octavia." She says. She then peeks over to Estaban as he gets taunted and gives the man a grin.

Alistair regards Killian with a nod from his silent corner at the table overlooking the sands, the High Inquisitor enjoying his wine in solemn silence.

Octavia seems a little bit surprised by the enthusiasm of Valencia's greeting, but accepts the seat and replies, "I believe I know everyone here, and thank you, Princess Reese. I thought it might be lacking in ribbons for your taste." After a sip of her wine, the magistrate laments, "Unfortunately I've been busy and frustrated. Though as Master Bastien reminded me so poignantly, the commons scoff at the woes of the nobility." That last part is said with a wry smirk.

Estaban looks up to the rafters again trying to see who just called him out, "Seems to am being requested to spar." he looks to Reese, "What you say? Up for another one Princess?" he looks to Lucita then back to Reese.

The little southern princess takes a sip of her wine and places the glass on the table once more, her gaze moving the High Inquisitor's way. A polite nod is offered along with a genuine smile, but she leaves him to enjoy his wine without any further interruption, perhaps giving the man room to be social or not as it pleases him. A little furrow of concern finds her brow as Octavia speaks about frustrations, "I am so sorry to hear that you are feeling such. Busy in one thing, but burdened is another," Valencia nods with a gentle smile. "But I suppose that it is true that all woes and goes are measured and tempered with persepctive and one man's sweet is another's sour. But still, that you are vexed makes me sad. Is there any respite on the way," she asks, reaching over to refill Graham's glass and any others that look dangerously close to not being full.

"Well.." Reese says to Octavia. "I probably wouldn't wear it myself." Reese says as she wears a pink gryphon shirt and leggings with pink ribbons. "But I realize that ribbons are not for everything." She adds. Reese then rises to her booted feet. "Oh, sure." She says, sounding like a girl who is always up for a spar.

Malesh snaps his fingers suddenly, "Ah, speaking of burdens..." He turns to Lark, bowing his head some, "Not to interupt..." but he totally is, "Did Barric make it back to the manse with the Crew Race Trophy? I told him it belonged in your residence rather than mine when I haded it over. I was quite heavy though, and you almost can't get further from the beach than the Grayson Ward without leaving the city."

Lucita gives a little nod to Estaban and then Lowers her voice to make a brief comment to him before looking back at Dianna.

Killian considers Malesh's comment and gives a small little look of amusement, "which seems a shame that, we really ought to try and figure out how to arrange for a little bit of beachfront in the Grayson ward..I'm sure there's no reason other than the laws of reality that prevent such a feat, so easily overcome."

Estaban smiles at Lucita nodding his head with a smirk and moves to head for the ring.

"I cannot say just yet," Octavia replies. "We shall see. I have a few ideas that may make things easier, but for now, I simply came to watch people fight, and to drink, since I've been unable to find a game of stones."

Estaban has joined the ring of valor.

"If he did indeed bring it back without managing to forget it on some tavern table, I've yet to see it - only because I've been so often staying at the palace," Lark replies to Malesh, turning her head and fondly chiding Barric behind his back. "I did receive prompt word of the Grayson victory, however." There's something almost nonplussed in her expression as she says it, for whatever reason.

Reese choose her steel mace and heads into the sparing ring. She gives Estaban smile smile that touches her blue eyes. "To Gloria, Lord Estaban. This should be every bit as interesting as our last spar."

A shout from the rafters again, "Thatta boy Saik!"

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

Malesh clears his throat and tries to hid his smile behind his wine goblet as he sips from it. "Well, Barric, Esoka, and Thesarin all rowed very hard for Grayson. The promise of drinks paid for with Stonewood silver may have had a hand in it, but I can assure you with my word that the Sword did not leave it at the Tavern where I rewarded him." A over-the-top non-chalant shrug and then, "Whether he drank from it while there, I'm not at liberty to disclose."

Reese and Estaban are both very nimble! This is looking like it will be a long spar. Neither has managed to even each one another. Once again, Reese seems quite focused on the fight.

"I do not think I would offer much challenge, but if you teach me, I shall be happy to play with you, my lady. It was a game that someone promised to teach me but never made good. I should like to learn to be true," Valencia nods enthusiastically. "Perhaps we might make an afternoon of it?" A little glace is offered up to the rafters as Orathy calls down and then move to the ring as another match begins.

Lark tries very hard not to smile, but she can't quite fight it off. Her eyes remain half-lidded, and her chin tilts upward primly as she laces her fingers together and turns her attention back onto the ring.

Killian leans over, saying something quietly to Lark before he moves to stand and slip away, heading off towards the exit.

Estaban has his focuss on the princess watching her, no looking away no letting anything distract him. When she comes at him he ducks to the side moving easily, its true they are both nimble and quick on their feet.

Malesh shakes his head and lets Lark get back to watching the action. That is what everyone is there for after all.

"Of course; I'll be well looked-after on my way back to the palace," Lark replies to Killian with a slight inclination of her head, once more answering his whisper at more audible volume. "I appreciate you joining me, even if only for awhile."

Octavia smiles a bit. "I suppose I could teach, but I'd have to remember to temper myself. Playing Stones is a passion of mine, and I can forget to be gentle to the newcomers." After a sip, she adds, "I've been looking for a regular partner, someone I can actually lose to. Lady Carita beat me last time we played, and I think she thinks I was upset with her. To the contrary, I was upset with myself for losing my Champion in the fourth move."

Lucita has left the bar.

Ashe, the studious Stormward paralegal have been dismissed.

2 Kennex corsairs have been dismissed.

Octavia smiles a bit. "I suppose I could teach, but I'd have to remember to temper myself. Playing Stones is a passion of mine, and I can forget to be gentle to the newcomers." After a sip, she adds, "I've been looking for a regular partner, someone I can actually lose to. Lady Carita beat me last time we played, and I think she thinks I was upset with her. To the contrary, I was upset with myself for losing my Champion in the fourth move."

Estaban takes minor damage.

Reese finally manages to get a hit on Estaban, but it is a minor one that only causes a little bruise. The spar is far from over.

Dianna set her glass down at the bar, indicating that she was in need of a refill. Her eyes never left the combatants as she did so. No, she simply tapped a nail agains the rim and offered a light ' thank you', likely with a smile they couldn't see accompanying it. "I'd heard of him and his swordsmanship before he left the House; I've not seen him fight to compare."

Valencia shakes her head looking rather resolved, "I would expect no quarter, my lady. I ask none when I spar and there is no reason that I should ask when learning skills in another arena, yes? I would be glad to learn at your knee."

Estaban smirks as Reese finaly nicks him, he moves to dance about her trying to keep out of her reach to try and make her work for the next hit.

Malesh pipes up a little then, as he hears talk of more mental pursuits, "I'm a fair player myself, though I can't say you would lose to me, I could at least make an effort to offer a game in which you would not need tempering." He shrugs a little, a humble Marquis doesn't presume to be an appropriate partner at Stones for the Chief Magistrate.

Octavia smirks a little and gestures with her glass, "It wouldn't teach you anything to lose quickly every time. I'd much rather take my time teaching." She looks over at Malesh and grins, replying, "Stonewood, correct? I'd be more than glad to play you if we had a board on which to play."

Orathy has left the upper rafters.

"If it pleases you, we do have boards in the Main Hall, if you would care to play," Valencia smiles between the two. "I would be very curious to watch you play."

Lucita has joined the bar.

Estaban takes serious damage.

Malesh admits with some disapointment that, "I'm afraid even if we could produce a game now, I wouldn't the time for it. Still, if you find yourself with a hole in your schedule, I would be able to fill it. My work keeps me busy, but offeres a certain level of flexibility, thankfully." He raises his goblet again, as a good-bye salute.


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It is rather early in the morning that a group of people arrives at the Templar barracks in Arx. Dozens of people, perhaps upwards of forty - and they seem to be clustered in extended family units. They are delivered and guarded by other people, hard-eyed men and women in red cloaks who tell those of the Faith who receive them, "These are freed thralls, here to find the shelter and help that was promised. We give them into your care." These red-cloaked escorts do not stay long.
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Lark seems to be watching this bout a bit more seriously, as though trying to draw some kind of information from it - but alas, sometimes duty calls even at the most inopportune moments, and a messenger arrives to meekly summon Lark away. Just as it was getting good! A princess does not complain or grouse, however; this one simply rises and departs.

Octavia raises her cup as well and offers, "I'll be sure to look you up, Marquis. People who can give me a challenge have not been forthcoming, so I'm always willing to play new players."

Reese continues to fight in her nimble and darting sort of fashion. She is able to evade all of Estaban's blows. Those watching closely would realize that she is not the stronger of warriors and her blows are not as powerful some warriors, but she is very hard to touch. Her cheeks are pink and her eyes are bright, but she shows no sign of exhaustion.

Estaban takes moderate damage.

Valencia offers a sweet smile to the Marquis as he declares his departure and another to Princess Lark as she leaves to tend to her responsibilities. Dark eyes fall again to the ring to watch the ensuing match continue with both fighters still going strong.

5 Grayson Guardsmen have been dismissed.

Crom, a solidly built bullmastiff have been dismissed.

Songbird, a mastiff have been dismissed.

Estaban was indeed making Reese work for her hits but in turn she was mking him wor for it as well he is startping to breath heavy his own cheeks turning red as they move about one another. Reese gets a hit in back to back and he grits his teeth but other then that he charges at her.

Estaban takes serious damage.

Estaban checked stamina, willpower + survival at difficulty 8, rolling 16 higher.

Estaban remains capable of fighting.

Estaban checked stamina, willpower + survival at difficulty 28, rolling 3 lower.

Estaban checked stamina, willpower + survival at difficulty 2, rolling 37 higher.

Estaban remains alive, but close to death.

Estaban falls unconscious.

Alistair has left the ringside table.

Lucita claps for both of those sparring. "Well fought!"

When Reese sees that Estaban is getting exhausted she presses on, continuing the attacks and not stopping until she takes the southern Lord down. Finally the fight comes to an end and Reese ceases her fighting once it is clear that she won. She goes to check Estaban over, making sure that he is okay.

Valencia lets out a cheer as the match comes to a close, her composure perhaps slightly lost as she cheers for them both.

Orathy has joined the upper rafters.

Waldemai has left the upper rafters.

Estaban was doing good but it seems he can only hold out for so long and he finds himself tired, once he let his guard down she was like a shark in for the kill. He is knocked flat on his face and he is breathing heavily looking up at Reese he smiles, "Not as good as before but not bad." he chuckles trying to catch his breath.

Orathy leans over the railing, checks out the situation in the area and whistles... he might even be applauding!

Ian is still at the bar, watching the spar. He nods to Lucita when she whispers something to him.

"Not bad at all, Lord Estaban." Reese say gently and then adds. "Most people don't stand that long against me, but yeah, not as good as the last time you went against me. That was a nail biter." She murmurs softly. "Anyways, it is good to see you again."