As the trumpets blared, Harker's attention came to the king, and Gareth closely dissected King Bard II's speech as he spoke, lingering on his mention of troubles in the land. The speech had a brevity that he caught, and the brunet felt as though it wasn't as long as a king's speech should be and glossed over many important subjects. The king's short word wasn't less admirable than that of a well-seasoned speaker, thus the half-elf opted to tone down his expectations of the king's speaking ability. He suspected that Bard was nervous, and the king had a right to be, in this time of distress and in his failure to bring forth an impacted oration. It didn't really matter to Gareth though, not like he was any better of a speaker than Bard was. But his calling was to the celebration at hand, and he didn't know the first thing about coronations. That was where his current panic set in, and Harker approached Karl's table. "Ah, salutations, Karl!" He pulled a chair and sat next his recent acquaintance. "Mighty fine bounty we have before us..." Gareth paused, looking around the room at the food and the king, for a moment, before he returned his focus to Karl. "How are you?"

Thomas smiled as he was approached by Jezin and Sophia. He began to reply, but was interrupted by the blaring of trumpets, which Thomas replied to by switching the apple to his left hand. With his right hand, he then placed his closed fist over his heart, facing the entrance where the King came through. Once the King had become seated, only then did Thomas' posture relax. As Bard II spoke, Thomas listened intently to the man, while standing at attention. When Sir Redwyne was named the champion, Thomas smiled. Of course it was going to be Redwyne. Standing up there amongst the rest of the guards and King, Redwyne looked no different than any other night up there. The only difference he possessed was his white cape trimmed with a gold lace. Besides that, he looked like your stereotypical knight. Not short, nor was he tall. Not strong, nor was he weak. Not fat, nor was he thin. Through Redwyne's black hair, streaks of grey could be seen through it, indicating the man's growing age. He didn't look it, but Redwyne was most likely the most dangerous person in the entire hall. Sir Redwyne had quite a history to himself. Said to be the only person ever to beat Sir Guy Arnulf multiple times in tournaments. He also participated in the Battle of the Nine Swords, where nine members of the Order of the Thistle, along with 20 or members of the City Watch, attempted to kidnap Arduin II. Sir Redwyne killed 5 Sword-Brothers that had strayed from the path that day, a feat no man can claim. As the King allowed everyone to go back to their activities, Thomas tossed the apple from his left hand to his right hand, while turning back to face Jezin and Sophia, "Good morning, Princess Sophia." Thomas spoke, softly, as he bowed his head, "I trust you found your lodgings to your liking?" Thomas added, as he raised his head back up from his bow. Once more, he made eye contact with Jezin, and gave a nod, acknowledging the knight, before returning his gaze back to Sophia.

Karl Leid was jolted from his token respectful silence, a welcome respite from the morning's eating and irresponsibly early drinking, by the approach of a familiar voice behind him. He cracked a short, little smile as Gareth sat down at the table near him. "G'morning to you as well. I'm doing fine, I suppose. They're trusting me again, and it's enjoyable." He said, and indicated the relatively normal company they had at the table with a wave of his hand, drawing some strange looks from the other guests. The table was, however, missing both of his accomplices from yesterday. "So I've decided to spend today watching and learning." Leid took a sip from his cup and laid it gently on the table, reclining a bit and sitting up straight. "What about you? Making the most of our lord's hospitality?" A bounty the boy had called it, and a bounty it was. The cooks had outdone themselves, perhaps out of love for their country. However, they too had to understand, like so many others, that today was an opportunity to advance one's standing in the realm. Being a good cook was one way, it was the others that warranted attention.

Gareth silently hoped he wasn't interrupting anything for Karl. Aside perceiving any kind of annoyance to Leid, Gareth chuckled at Karl's utterance about his company and beamed at Karl. "No, I've barely arrived and have yet to eat anything save a plum. Ah, my, what shall I feast on?" He hungered, for he ate none that morning before he had arrived. The food looked excellent, and the taste was certain to be sublime, especially on as important of a day as the coronation. Harker looked about the selection of food before him and pulled down his cloak, dropping his bow and quiver that he toted with him on the ground. "You'll have to excuse me," the half-elf spoke. "I brought my bow with me. I was out this morning fetching food for a neighbor of mine." The thought of it was funny in his mind, as it was ironic for him to provide food for a neighbor, and then receive none for himself. His eyes were fixed on the feast.

"What should you feast on?" Karl laughed openly at the question. "Today's the day they put everything on the table and you've only nicked a plum so far? I shouldn't be bothering you, you need to eat." He himself had been quick about covering that particular need. Today was only the beginning after all, and he had a tournament to endure sitting through today. The night was a much better time to gorge. Gareth then produced a bow, and while Leid didn't feel particularly accosted by its presence he did indulge his curiosity and give the weapon a quick look. The man had no eye for weapons but a bow in working order was a bow in working order, though his eyes did catch on the ruby embedded in its grip and decided that the presence of a gemstone must be an indicator of its quality. "A bow worth bringing, by the look of it. Have you considered putting in for the archery tourney? About the only one that doesn't look like a blood sport in disguise to me." He punctuated his speech by taking a drink of whatever alcohol he had managed to procure that morning, and looking around the room for any familiar faces. His complaint had reminded him of the possibility that he might manage to abscond entirely from the tournament.

"Ah..." Gareth secured from the table a helping of mutton to consume, and he did so. He needed the sustenance. When he chewed it to nothing, the half-elf spoke again. "No, I, um, am afraid not. I've never competed in any event of archery." His face looked concerned as he fell into thought again. Harker didn't know what the tournament entailed, however even if he did, he believed he wouldn't perform well even if he tried. He grabbed another plum nervously. He supposed it would be fun to try and compete, but moreover the idea of poor performance troubled him and he felt discouraged. "I don't feel I'm the right kind of material for it..."

"Eh, I don't see too many archers around here, and if your neighbors get you to hunt you've got to be a shot. Might be worth trying your luck, hitting a target and getting a winner's purse is a damn fine way to come out ahead of a free meal." He said, haphazardly straying between an attempt to reassure and agreement. Karl felt that he might have stumbled onto a bad subject, wasn't that a fresh turn. It showed on the other man's face, and Leid might have been inflating his own ability to say in his words as well. Turning away from it was probably the best option, easy too because the man had little love for the lengthy affairs that tournaments tended to be. Whether it was putting arrows into hay or putting wooden lances into armored men, which, in passing, seemed a very sinister graduation of events. "Well, do what gives you joy, that's the way to live," he said, raising his glass in a playful mock toast. "A weapon's always a good trade to know though. 'Realm never stops looking for young folk willing to throw away their lives for king, country, and the king's silver."

Gareth kept silence for a few moments. He thought he could have a chance if he had less competition, and he supposed Karl was right about there being few archers around. "I suppose... I will attempt." The young man managed a half-smile. "But when, might I ask, is the tourney?" He plopped a berry off the table and into his mouth, chewing softly. Across the room he spotted conversing Thomas and the lady from the night before, and he eyed them curiously while he awaited Leid's word. Harker remembered his intent on coming to the coronation. He wanted to acquaint himself, and what better way was there than to make a name for himself among the people in a tourney? It was a gamble on fame and accolades, but nonetheless even trying would warrant him notice in some way.

Sophia immediately turned her attention from Thomas at the sound of the trumpets. Finally, their host had arrived. The king's speech encouraged the attendees of the feast to forget the problems of the outside world and enjoy the festivities. Sophia looked over the king and his procession. He looked kingly enough, at least to the young princess. His words seemed rehearsed, but who could blame him. Her eyes glanced briefly to the knight who had been named as the king's champion. She hadn't seen him in the palace yet, and assumed by his different colored cloak and his title that he must've been quite important. The princess clapped along with the remainder of the crowd when the king finished his speech. Sophia turned back to Thomas as the applause died down. "Yes, Sir Thomas, the room was wonderful." She looked back towards the king's table before speaking. "Sir Thomas, my mother saw it fit to send a gift. When do you suppose would be a good time to present it to his Highness?"

Jezin listened to the speech, standing quietly behind Sophia. He supposed it was somewhat inspirational, at least the people around them seemed to enjoy it. Thomas snapped to attention as soon as the king entered. It was clear the men of Keilaudrin had a strong sense of duty. Jezin's eyes snapped to Redwyne Cole as soon as he was named as the king's champion. He didn't appear overtly impressive, but Jezin knew better than to judge a warrior on his appearance. The bodyguard was unsure of what the title 'Morningstar' referred to, but he concluded it was likely a prestigious honor. As the king finished his speech, Jezin drew his gaze back to Sophia and Thomas. The bodyguard nodded back to Thomas.

"Tonight at the midnight feast would most likely be the best time to present your gift." Thomas responded, as he rested his right hand on his sword's hilt, "The midnight feast is a little more personal of an event and I imagine it would be much more appreciated then." Thomas added, taking another bite from his apple. Thomas thought over his removal from the melee for a moment, to himself, before turning his attention to Jezin, "I can take you to the tournament director, in order to declare yourself a contestant. I had removed myself from the melee, but the prospect of getting a chance to duel you, and Sir Redwyne, is a little too much for me." Thomas said, with a slightly smirk. The most obvious winner would most likely be Redwyne, which was expected, but otherwise it'd mostly like be a toss-up. The jousting, however, would be more clean-cut. Thomas knew he could most likely defeat Redwyne Cole in a joust, as Thomas had the experience of training on a horse since as soon as he could walk. It would still be a very competitive tournament, however.

Jezin smiled when Thomas mentioned the tournament. "By all means, I'm glad you've reconsidered. I was quite excited at the possibility of dueling you." Jezin thought over his options for a moment. He would likely avoid the joust. Though he had some training on horseback, he was fairly certain he wouldn't be on par with the other knights in the tournament. Jousting wasn't popular in Lyok, and cavalry units themselves were few and far between, being mainly used for combat that required high mobility. He had been an infantry soldier before he joined the Brass Hand. The melee would be his best bet. "Well then, lead the way Sir Thomas."

Sophia looked back and forth between the two knights. Jezin had always been competitive, so she wasn't surprised he was itching to test his might in the tournament. She waved the duo off. "While you two get that in order I suppose I will enjoy the feast." She murmured a quick word to her servants about returning the gift to their room and walked towards a table. The food was bountiful, and looked quite delicious. She took a seat near two men, both of which she vaguely remembered from the day before. They hadn't spoken, but she recognized them. They had been in the throne room. The princess reached out and snagged a bright, ripe orange from the table, which she began peeling. She turned to Gareth with a smile as she peeled the fruit. "Quite the party, isn't it?" Her words were light and fluid, but still loud enough to be heard in the bustling room.

Thomas bowed, as he left Sophia, with Jezin most likely following. And made his way out of the feasting hall, "Are you going to enter the joust, Sir Jezin?" Thomas spoke, as they left the feasting hall, inadvertently calling Jezin 'sir'. They started the long navigation of the many halls of the Palace. Thomas knew by heart where the fairgrounds were, and could easily find the grounds. At this time, the grounds were likely to be done being set-up, and it was likely that knights were already starting to gather there in order to inspect the grounds, speak to their squires, and prep their horses. Thomas, being the champion of the Order of the Thistle, was provided with a team of 4 squires, and his own horse. The squires were likely sons of noble houses in Keilaudrin, and could be expected to preform well. Thomas had always been used to competing without the help of squires, but it certainly did help having 4 people at your beck and call.

Gareth's anticipation of a response from Karl was interrupted by Sophia, and he turned to face her nervously, in close contact with another person of higher rank. Softly but calculatedly, the half-elf spoke. "Ah, um, indeed." He straightened his posture to compliment the princess's noble status. "I find the food quite, ah, palatable." Harker smiled, pulling the hem of his shirt down and bridging his hands propped by his elbows on the table. "Ah, I do believe I saw you the night before, in the throne room?" A flustered commoner attempted smalltalk.

Jezin gave a faint smirk at being called 'sir'. "I'm flattered, Sir Thomas, but the knights of Lyok bear no such title. In Veranthium the favor of the Empress is considered far more valuable than honorific terms of endearment." He gave a slight chuckle, an attempt to avoid sounding condescending. "To answer your question though, I believe I would be better suited for the melee. I ride well enough, but I doubt I'd fair well against men trained to be heavy cavalry." The bodyguard paused a moment, following the knight out towards the fairgrounds. "What rules do the men of Keilaudrin have in their tournaments?" Different kingdoms often had different rules about such things, and Jezin wanted to make sure he wouldn't offend his host with his conduct.

Sophia smiled at the young man's immediate attempts to appear more proper. It was clear he was not used to the life of the court. She giggled slightly. "Yes, yes. Palatable." She smirked and ate a single piece of the orange in her hand. "Oh yes, I remember. We didn't get a chance to meet." She smiled widely and turned towards the young man. "I am Sophia Octavia, may I have the pleasure of your acquaintance?" She ate another piece of the orange. It was quite good.

Thomas frowned as the duo made their way out of the Palace, and onto the grassy grounds of the courtyard, still making their way to the royal fairgrounds, "I see. In Keilaudrin, the title of 'Sir' is less of title, and more of a small sign of respect for the person, rather than a way to glorify a person." Thomas replied, as he took a final bite out of his apple, leaving only the core. Thomas simply nodded at Jezin's observation that he would be more cut out for the melee than jousting. A fair decision. Jousting took years of practice, and few knights could get by on talent alone, "The general rules of the tournament entail the honorable treatment of any opponent you face, treating him as you would treat yourself. For the melee, it is a yield or death rule. If a person yields, you are bound by law to spare his life, and you win the match. If he refuses to yield, you are allowed to take his life." Thomas explained, as the duo started to enter the fairgrounds proper. As they passed bins, Thomas tossed his apple core into a nearby trash bin, keeping his pace as he did so. Thomas had entered melees several times, and had to yield a few. There was no shame for him, in yielding, but some older knights refuse to yield to another knight, and would rather take death than yield, "Obviously, if the opponent is fatally wounded before he can declare yield, no fault will be placed on the winner." Thomas added, as an afterthought. He had witnessed a few decapitations in the melee before, showing how fast and brutal the melees really were.

Tursgud and Ragnar enter the palace. Tursgud walks to Wallace. "Do you know where I can join the tournament?"

Ragnar sits in the corner of the room.

Harker chuckled nervously, suspecting she caught his attempts, but he smiled softly and carried onward anyway, despite fear of embarrassment. "The pleasure is mine, Sophia. My name is Gareth Harker." If Gareth couldn't seem proper, then he just had to talk smoothly to cover himself. It wasn't easy, especially for someone with no experience in the court of the king, which made him a bit of a public farce. "This gentleman next to me is Karl Leid." Hopefully Karl wouldn't be upset at Gareth for introducing them both.

Wallace

---

The man stopped his patrolling when Tursgud approached him from the crowd. Wallace stopped for a moment, going through the list of names and faces in his head just to make sure before he replied to the man. "You've come at just the right time, actually. The tournament will begin in short order after this feast, if you're interested in getting there early, the fairgrounds are next to the palace. You'll find that there are clerks there taking in names for the various events." He stopped a moment, almost about to walk away, before he decided that further explanation would be needed. He raised a finger didactically and continued. "There will be a melee, an archery competition, and a joust, of course, but you'll want to ask the clerks at the tournament for a better explanation." He smiled broadly as he redirected the work on someone else. "Do you have any further questions Sir Berning?"

Karl Leid

---

"Well actually it's right after this feast," Karl said flatly. He hoped the revelation that it was so soon wasn't going to discourage the younger man, but felt that it may regardless. He would have continued if the two hadn't been joined at that moment by one of the guests from the night before. The newcomer seemed incredibly young, but in her case it only declared the severity of whatever title she must have held. For a little girl to come all this way with such an entourage, Leid's current bet was sitting on the heiress category. As Gareth introduced him, he nodded his head and affirmed with an. "Expert Ex-diplomat, at your service milady." Never one to miss a chance to inebriate, he celebrated their guest's arrival with another mock toast and a mouthful of booze.

"No. Thank you!" Tursgud waved to Wallace and he leaves the palace.

Ragnar took place next to Gareth, Karl and Sophia.

Gareth asked, "Oh? Where do I sign up?" The imminent quality of the tournament struck him, thus the event allotted little time for his preparation. It wasn't much of concern, however, as he merely needed a good breakfast and a strung bow to compete at his fullest. Harker rested his chin on his hand, the upcoming challenge urging him to think.