Jezin glanced up to see a woman in a blue tie standing next to him. She didn't look too familiar to him. She asked about a man named Karl Lied. The bodyguard racked his brain for a moment, trying to recall if he had heard such a name, but his efforts came up blank. He shook his head. "No, I haven't, what seems to be the problem?" His words were nearly drowned out by the trumpets bellowing over the fairgrounds. The announcer made it known that the next combatants would be Thomas and a man named Hadryn. The other name didn't sound familiar, and Jezin waited eagerly to see who Thomas would be up against.

Sophia smiled a bit, gently running her fingers through her hair. She started to reply when her small voice was completely overshadowed by the trumpets. It seemed the next match was up. It would be Sir Thomas against someone named Hadryn. Gareth mumbled quietly, obviously quite worried about the coming spectacle. "Don't worry Gareth, I'm sure he'll do just fine." She maintained her smile, and her wide yellow eyes glanced back towards Gareth. "But I meant to say that the native people of Lyok are the people of the Serpent. So, we're completely immune to all sorts of poisons. We also very rarely get sick." It was true, the people of the Lyoki heartland, people like Jezin and Sophia, were completely immune to poisons. This fact had led to the occasional use of poisoned weapons by the Lyoki military, although such weapons were usually only carried by members of the aristocracy. She herself had no weapons training, but she remembered her older sister carrying a poisoned dagger.

Thomas made his way to the dirt runway, making it there before his opponent. As he stepped onto the fine dirt, he slid his armnet over his head. Thomas looked like a well-decorated, shiny tank at this point. He closed the visor to his armnet, and place his hand on the hilt of Harmony, awaiting his opponent to make his own way down to the arena. Thomas hated this armor, especially when it came to fighting on foot with it. Light Fighting was based on dodging and counter-strikes, but in this armor he'd have to focus more on standing and taking hits. Thomas couldn't afford to be dodging around in this suit of armor, it would tire him out far too quickly, and a tired fighter is a losing fighter. Thomas gazed at the stands, through the small slit of his helmet, gazing over the audience that was here to watch him either succeed, or fail.

"I suppose..." Gareth was still a little unsure of the likelihood of Thomas's victory, however high it was. His blue eyes made eye contact with Sophia, and again they mirrored the wonderment he had before. "Is that so?" That must've given Lyok a tactical advantage in wars, Harker assumed, and likely made Lyok a strong empire. "That in itself is like its own sort of magic." Being a half-elf, he had the immunities of both humans and elves. Like those of similar kin, most poisons were ineffective to his kind, and that made him and others killable by a small number of extremely rare and difficult-to-fabricate poisons. He was sure Sophia would already know this, thus he neglected to mention it. Ah yes, the Lyoki Serpent... Most of their religion seemed to be primarily superstition. He bet their immunities more on genealogy than on their deity. He looked back to the field, noticing Thomas prepared for combat and admiring him from afar with his eyes.

Hadryn made his way down from the stands and onto the battlefield once his name was called. As he passed the hornblower he quickly informed him that
"I'm no knight, don't call me 'sir'" He stood facing forward as his opponent done the same. Hadryn's own armour was light and easy to move about in, while still providing adequate protection in combat. He wore no helmet, it only restricted his vision and made it harder for him to dodge attacks coming from above. He couldn't make out the race or appearance of his enemy through his armour, but what he could make out was that the armour was rather heavy. This was an opponent who was more accustomed to taking hits rather than avoiding them, or so Hadryn could make out. He'd have to be quick on his feet and be able to incapacitate his opponent before anything else. He'd aim for his joints, the back of the knees were his primary target, they were normally partially unguarded and could be sliced at with enough precision. He placed his hands on the hilts of his swords, crossing his arms as he did so as to not unsheath the swords backwards.

"He didn't want a retainer, and has run off," the blue-tie said, aloof for a guard that had supposedly lost her charge. Even as the two talked, she continued to glance around at the environment in searching. It was hard to know when to quit. "It'll be alright, there's more of us looking for him." But that answer didn't seem to satisfy her, and she stood watching the runway with arms crossed for a while. A new fighter had taken the field already, someone who seemed far closer to her style, although the particular choice of swords wasn't something she was about to split hairs over. The woman decided to stay for the moment, she wasn't finding Leid and Jezin at least hadn't run off yet. "So, do you compete in tournaments often? That spear and shield style seems out of place here." She said, although regretted it almost immediately, it seemed out of place. It had, however, been bothering her since watching what little she'd seen of the man's fight.

Tournament Announcer

---

The announcer frowned as the second man that day corrected him. Still, he kept his silence as his professionalism and the opinions of all the nobles behind him required. The man with the horn watched as the two opponents readied themselves on the runway, and counted down the time in his head. The crowd couldn't be bothered to stop cheering for effect, they were already saying names and picking sides for the fight about to happen. It all seemed about right, and he motioned to the man at his right. The trumpets sounded up again to signal the beginning of combat. The conditions remained the same, inability or yield.

Thomas made his way to the dirt runway, making it there before his opponent. As he stepped onto the fine dirt, he slid his armnet over his head. Thomas looked like a well-decorated, shiny tank at this point. He closed the visor to his armnet, and place his hand on the hilt of Harmony, awaiting his opponent to make his own way down to the arena. Thomas hated this armor, especially when it came to fighting on foot with it. Light Fighting was based on dodging and counter-strikes, but in this armor he'd have to focus more on standing and taking hits. Thomas couldn't afford to be dodging around in this suit of armor, it would tire him out far too quickly, and a tired fighter is a losing fighter. Thomas gazed at the stands, through the small slit of his helmet, gazing over the audience that was here to watch him either succeed, or fail. Thomas readied himself as the trumpets once again sounded, and he changed his gaze to his opponent. Thomas brought his sword to his chest, holding it with both hands, waiting to see how his opponent would start out.

Jezin watched as the two combatants took the field. It seemed Thomas was fighting a roguish looking fellow. He looked over to Lexine as she spoke. She seemed a bit troubled by her inability to find the man she was looking for. She quickly dismissed the worries though, and asked him about his experience in tournaments. He nodded. "I fought in them quite often in Lyok, fighting with a spear and shield is a bit more common there, it's the most common weapon in the Lyoki military." He thought over his past tournaments, he'd won a few in Lyok. He could only remember three combatants that had bested him: another member of the Brass Hand, and the Sword and Shield of the Queen. He shuddered silently. The Sword of the Queen had put him out of commission for weeks. Celeste of Redmoon they called her. His chest ached remembering his flesh being ripped open. He shook the thought from his head. "Are you familiar with Lyok?"

Sophia smiled. "I suppose so." The two fighters had taken their positions on the field. Thomas walked out in his thick armor, but the other man had little defense to speak of. She wondered how the fight would go. She resolved that she would cheer for Sir Thomas in the match, he had been quite friendly to them after all. She remembered that Gareth had left the feast to enter the tournament, but he hadn't recalled what portion he had joined. "So, you joined this tournament, right? What event did you register for?" She was curious what skills the young man had.

"Ah, I registered for archery." Gareth watched Thomas take the runway in thick armor. Against someone like his opponent though, Gareth supposed the knight would be better, from a combat standpoint at least, without armor, and he shook his head. Either Thomas could take enough blows and win by tanking hits and purely brawling his opponent into defeat or Thomas would be unconscious of his armor's weaknesses and fall like a chopped tree. "I'm unsure of my ability to win in archery, as I'm sure there are sharper marksmen around, but I'll give it a shot."

"Familiar enough." She said, thinking back on a few alleyway fights and the inevitable attempted involvement of the authorities. In doing her work, she'd made and heard a handful of stories about the country's night life and underbelly. Their culture had, unfortunately, escaped her for the most part, though it wasn't anything personal because even the culture of Keilaudrin was currently eluding her in the form of the crowd's nearly infinite enthusiasm for trumpet calls. Well, she knew things about Lyok, but she'd have to doctor them up before saying them to a native. They worshiped a snake and you had to step your game up from digitalis when you were poisoning them, and the obvious epithets flowed from those associations. On the brighter side of things, she was well aware of the spear's presence in their military, and knew of a handful of their spear fighters either from textbooks or personal experience. "I have a few friends in the country, but I've only been there a few times. Are you enjoying Estovet so far?"

Sophia listened to Gareth as he told her he would take part in the archery competition. It seemed to be the safest of the tournament events by far. The princess smiled, crossing her hands in her lap as she waited for the match to begin. "Oh, archery! Lovely. My oldest sister is quite fond of archery." Each of the Octavia children had their own hobbies. Arissia had her archery, Catarina had her studies of medicine and poison, she had her love of music... and Alexi had been the finest swordsman Lyok had ever seen. A frown crossed her face for a brief moment as she thought of the brother she could now scarcely remember. He had passed when she was six. Her frown quickly faded and was again replaced by her trademark smile as she flushed the negativity from her mind. Now was not the time for sadness. "I'm sure you'll do wonderfully, Gareth! Have you ever competed in something like this before?"

Jezin glanced in the woman's direction as she spoke. He was surprised to meet someone who had visited Lyok, despite the frequency of travelers that arrived in the country. He nodded when she asked her question. "Yes, Estovet has treated us quite well. Are you from Keilaudrin, milady?" He spoke politely, a trait he had picked up from being around foreign dignitaries on a daily basis. The Brass Hand and Palace Guard had taught him a great deal more than combat during his time in Veranthium. He remembered it had been a rather abrupt change from the standard infantry, where the world revolved around one's ability to kill a man. He didn't mind the pleasantries, he supposed it was far better than the harsh life the infantry had afforded him.

Gareth crossed his arms and intently heard her talk about her siblings, the half-elf noting the tone shift. He smiled nonetheless and looked to her, while he recalled his lack of participation in any sort of formal competition. His only training with the bow came from his parents, and even then he couldn't determine that he was well-trained, but perhaps others could. "Hmm, I can't say I have. I hunt, but comparing skills against other men is new to me."

Sophia pondered the young man's situation for a moment. "Hmm, well, I imagine a target will be easier to hit, it can't move after all." She laughed softly, adjusting the golden bracelet at her wrist. The ruby eyes of the snake-shaped jewelry shimmered. She looked across the fairgrounds towards Jezin, noticing he was talking with Lexine. She had seemed interested in his fighting technique earlier, the girl remembered. She wondered if the woman had learned where Karl was yet. She wondered briefly where her servants had wandered off to, but imagined they were probably enjoying themselves at the celebration with the local folk. She looked up towards the clouds floating lazily through the sunny sky and spoke again. "So where did you learn how to use a bow, Gareth?"

"Haha, indeed, at least the targets have no sentience." The half-elf chuckled. "My parents taught me." Gareth twiddled his thumbs, and also stared up at the clouds in the sky. He wondered if it would rain later, for if it did, he would have to leave the palace in the midst of a storm, which would be no fun at all. And sitting there next to Sophia, Harker couldn't help but daydream of a life bigger than his own, just outside his grasp, of an adventure or a great tale told in a legend or a song. He seemed faroff in his thoughts, distant in a dream, but he was still there with Sophia, and he looked at her, and at the bracelet on her wrist. 'Fancy,' he thought, but with no surprise. It was a sight to see, fit for a princess like Sophia to possess such jewelry.

A warm breeze blew through the stands. Sophia's long dark hair fluttered about, the single white streak shining like lightning against a night sky. It was a nice day, briefly the princess wondered why anyone would want to fight when the weather was so nice, but she decided such things weren't for her to understand. She noticed Gareth seemed to have gotten lost within his own thoughts for a moment. She sat quietly for a few seconds, watching the young man with curiosity. She straightened the circlet that sat on her head and smiled. "Thinking about something?" She asked, curious as to what was on the half-elf's mind.

Gareth paid his attention to Sophia's face again. "Oh, nothing, my lady." He hummed for a moment. "Nothing but the stuff of dreams." He neglected her curiosity, shrugging off his little imagination as something not worth speaking of, a bland conversation topic, for everyone certainly sought some sort of greatness, especially in their ambitious youth. Maybe if there existed the potential for his dreams to be realized, then they would warrant talk, but alas Harker saw them as hopeless in their time. "Why? Is there something on your mind?"

"I was born just north of here, actually, but I've spent most of my life traveling," she said, smiling to herself. What a stupid, peaceful conversation you could stir up alongside an arena. In a way, it made sense. People who fought for a living, especially a royal guard who was probably steeped in violence more often than not, were apt to enjoy whatever aspects of a normal life they retained. It was easy, tempting even, to forget that soldiers, too, were humans. Well, she thought, that's a new record for spoiling a conversation. "I'm happy you're enjoying it so far. This continent is usually more violent, but I suppose that's the reason we're all having such a great time." She looked around at the stands, by now completely abandoning Leid. The sheer happiness shown for mock combat might have shown just how distant this crowd had always been from the real thing, and while their safety was an admirable achievement of society there was something concerning in that behavior. "You said you fight in these often. Why? Money, fame, sport? I'm curious, I guess because I've never felt the urge to try my hand at one."

Eagerly watching the beginning of the melee with a slight smirk on his face, Olyvar was already wishing for the fight to finish before it even started, like a restless child who had already grown bored with a toy immediately after holding it. Sitting idly by while waiting for something to happen was incredibly wearisome for him, he loathed periods of inactivity, especially when everything else seemed more entertaining. Looking back, Olyvar realised he probably should have been spending this opportunity to better prepare for his own fight, but it was obviously far too late now, not that Olyvar would care, he would view the disadvantage as some sort of challenge, a factor that would somehow make the fight more 'fun' for him.

The fighters seemed fascinating, particularly the contrast between their fighting styles, one light and fast, the other slow and heavy, encased in armour. Olyvar never understood why anyone would wear something that hefty and restrictive in combat, though he could recognise the value in its protective qualities, he detested the idea of standing there taking hit after hit until the opponent finds a fatal chink in the armour. Compared with the other fighter's agility and weapon choice, this would appear to be a most captivating fight indeed.

Sophia looked up into the clouds again. "Oh, nothing in particular." The statement wasn't true. There were a million things going through her mind, but none of them would be particularly interesting to talk about. She worried for Jezin, she wondered how the feast later would go, she wondered if she would make a good impression on King Bard. A tinge of nervousness crept into her stomach as she thought about meeting the monarch. It wasn't her first time meeting a foreign leader, but usually she traveled with one of her sisters or a group of diplomats. She felt the king's entire perception of Lyok now rested with her. She desperately hoped she wouldn't be a disappointment. She continued watching the sky, noticing a hawk circling through the clouds. She glanced over towards Gareth, wondering if he had the same definition of 'nothing'. "Dreams sometimes become realities." She didn't think when she said the words, they just seemed to naturally flow from her.

"Ah." Jezin said. He had very little knowledge of Estovet's geography, so asking her exactly where she came from would be pointless. Wherever her home was, the woman sounded as though she was well-versed in the world, and likely had seen some interesting things in her travels. Lexine mentioned that Keilaudrin normally was a far less peaceful place than it currently appeared. The bodyguard remembered Thomas' words about the kingdom. It was the second time someone had mentioned turmoil within the country. In the back of his mind, this fact made him nervous. "Yes, I've heard things haven't been going so well as of late... why exactly is that?" Surely they were safe as guests of the king? He was becoming less and less sure of Keilaudrin's stability, but at least for the moment the place seemed to be holding up alright. After a pause, Lexine asked him why he fought in tournaments. It wasn't the money. He'd never been particularly poor. Even before his career with the military his family had accumulated a fair share of wealth. He thought about the question for a few moments. "Really... it's pride I suppose. What good is skill if a man cannot prove it?" He thought about his words. Pride had been the reason he'd started fighting in the first place.

Hadryn watched his opponent, he wasn't going to make the first move he was expecting Hadryn to sprint at him so that he could counter him and end the fight quickly. Hadryn wouldn't let that happen. He unsheathed his swords and began to slowly circle his opponent, getting ever so closer with each small step. He'd be close enough to be able to dodge soon enough but also be able to get a few hits in depending on where he dodged.

Thomas started his own circling, taking a step back every time his opponent took a step forward. Thomas cursed himself, as he reminded himself how much he hated his armor. Raised an entire life time to fight without it, and he's spent most of his recent years fighting with it. He had a duty, though, as the champion of the Order of the Thistle, he had to represent his Order in combat, but this was too much. As Thomas continued circling, he removed his helmet with his left hand, and tossed it to the side. revealing his face. Helmets were useless in tournament combat, and only stopped one from anticipating attacks. Thomas adjusted his grip, slightly on his sword, lowering his hand on the hilt, before taking a quick step forward, along with a quick jab at his opponent chest, before taking two quick steps back to retreat. The jab wasn't that accurate, and it was painfully obvious the jab was meant to be a sort of testing the waters of his opponent.