Epsir

When the Flames Die

Also accepted, gimme a sec and I'll have the player list updated.

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Quadrophenia, please try to post soon. Ordinarily I'm not going to hound people as long as they're posting fairly regularly, I don't have a rule for it and all that jazz, and I'm of the opinion that it's always the GMs' role to keep the plot moving. However, you currently are the plot, and one of the people in a tourney match going inactive can stall the thread. Everyone in this thread has been online regularly in the past few days, waiting for you to post.

When the Flames Die

"Correct. He's been ejected from more courts than some lords can name. I doubt the man could afford or find a retainer, but he's the kind of person that needs one." By that point she was craning her neck to see above the crowd, although she was tall enough to stand even with most of the men there. It might have just been the boots, barely distinguishable from more casual footwear under the cuffs of her trousers. The other man hadn't turned up from within the castle yet, and immediately her mind went to the assumption that something had gone wrong. She sighed and lowered back to the ground from her tiptoed stance. "I'm compromising, but in the other sense of the word. Bard Urien's court has a target painted on it, there's a Lyoki royal in town, and every name in Estovetian politics has somebody worth killing under that roof. It's good to have people you can trust at a time like this." In truth, she was more concerned with what Lyok's interest in the country was because if there was one entity that could truly make her life miserable, it was any of the ones that happened to drag an entirely different continent's problems into hers. But, having friends never hurt.

When the Flames Die

Accepted, welcome to the thread. If you feel like participating in any part of the tournament feel free to say so.

When the Flames Die

She stopped when the man posed a question to her, staring out at the crowd and considering for a time the faces in it. Well, coming up with a story was just as easy as a name, right? It wasn't right, though. She crossed her arms and simply stood for a moment before managing to speak. "That's a broad question, I'm not quite sure I know how to approach it." Obviously uncomfortable either way, she fidgeted with her tie, loosening the knot. "I'm a little like you, but I wish I had such a specific motivation. There isn't much I can say right now that's the truth. I'm here in this country retaining and tailing a man I've never met who wishes he never met me, and my presence in the country itself is only questionably legal. Nonetheless, in a roundabout way, what I'm doing here is for the protection of others. I figure if anyone understands it's the other foreign bodyguard here," at that, she motioned to Jezin, indicating who she was talking about. "And I owe you that much." But she didn't often let obligation get in the way of objective, and it was mostly a sense of kinship doing the talking.

When the Flames Die

She stood still as Jezin spoke, contemplating his reasoning with the same tired look she'd been wearing most of the day. For an instant, she felt the other man was shortsighted, selfish, even. The obvious question, and its oft repeated answer, always came to mind. Why was a princess' smile worth more than all of the people suffering out in the streets and battlefields? Of course, a princess left alive could do more to protect them than one soldier. She hadn't heard such from Jezin, but part of her thought that a man who could think only about doing his job, in simple terms without the bother of what it meant to the world, was a lucky one. That was an assumption on her part, she didn't know him, and her conscience reminded her of that. "I imagine she's touched. It's a wonder she enjoys herself so, with that sort of incident hanging over her head." Royalty were targets enough as is, those with opposition dedicated enough to break into their palace and nearly bypass the guard were not often seen in public, much less abroad and without a protective detail. If anything, it spoke to the faith placed in Jezin and his skill. Maybe he'd done well to prove it in tournaments, and the thought brought a smile to her face.

When the Flames Die

The man seemed more concerned with her statement on the nature of the continent, indicating his astuteness a guardsman. Still, she was a bit perplexed by his question. Why was Estovet prone to war, and why weren't things 'going well'? "That's just how people are. It's a big continent but there aren't many people content with what they hold on it." She shrugged, unable to clarify further. As he answered her question, she nodded her head along in thought. Neither her answer nor Jezin's proved to be any satisfaction to the woman. Pride seemed a quaint reason to fight to her, but it made sense that the dividing line between a person who proved his skill in tournaments and a person who did not was a desire to prove those skills in the first place. Unable to contain it, she started laughing. What a ridiculous question she'd asked. "Sorry," she said as her spell ended, "It wasn't your answer I'm laughing at. I have no pride to fight for, but I think I'm starting to understand the difference between us now." She paused for the moment, looking back at the stands and pointing her green eyes towards where she had met Sophia and another man. Sure enough, they were still there. That was where her questioning lead next. "What about her? The princess, I mean." The woman's speaking slowed, darkened. She was well aware how her next question could be taken by a member of the royalty's own guard. "If they sent me alone with someone like her overseas, I'd think they were trying to have us both killed. What do you get from serving? Pride again?"

When the Flames Die

"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."

When the Flames Die

"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?"

When the Flames Die

"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

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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.

When the Flames Die

"Lexine Tristan," She managed to say, before Thomas went on the talk with the newly arrived Jezin. If not for an entire week of getting snubbed by the ever unwilling participant Karl Leid, she might have even gotten agitated at the slight. Instead, she stood by the side and watched with her perpetually disinterested look until their business concluded, and Thomas wandered off without so much as a glance in her direction. There were a few profanities and curses that sprang to mind, but none of them would look particularly in character with the retainer getup, and Jezin was standing close by. Showing what qualified as restraint, she ran a hand to down her face and stood there holding her chin for a moment, figuring where to pick up from there. Well, there was the spear fighter. It wouldn't be long until the next melee. "I don't suppose there's any chance that you've seen a man named Karl Leid either?"

Tournament Announcer

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The announcement then came, trumpets sounded after Jon had been carefully removed from the field, taken to the token hospital tent to be hopefully nursed back into health. The orderlies of the palace were highly qualified and, although the medical practices were a bit dated, the man was in no significant danger of expiring from his wounds. After the noise, the man with the horn again spoke up, "Sir Thomas Morgan and Sir Hadryn..." the man briefly considered reading the full title but assumed it was against convention and perhaps unsporting to name the two men separately. With a shrug, the steward continued. "Make yourselves ready for combat and appear before the court for your duel, sirs. The melee will resume within the hour!"