Talen arrives.
A carriage with the black and silver livery of House Pravus pulls up not far from the Bay of Thrax where the first day's events are to be held, the door opens and Viviana hops down without waiting for the stairs, unbuckling her swords and slipping them into the carriage before heading for the gathering of people, already stretching out her back.
"I'm not really much for swimming, but I'm certainly all for people diving into the water and getting wet for my own amusement," Acacia informs Marcas, having comfortably stepped up towards his left side, if only to eye the seas themselves-- followed by the crowds. As an exceptionally overweight man, who seems to favor turkey legs in a way that would challenge Marcas on his worst days, crosses their pathway, her brow creases ever so much and she amends, "Most people diving in and getting wet for my own amusement, that is."
(OOC) Jaenelle says: I am going to color my poses, if that is ok with everyone here!
(OOC) Acacia says: Please.
(OOC) Talen says: Aye, do it.
(OOC) Talen says: In burning pink.
Freja arrives.
(OOC) Calista thumbs up.
Freja enters a touch behind the crowds, opting to find seating near the fringe. Doesn't look like the Northern woman intends on competing, though her sharp eyes do wander to those who are beginning to line up.
Quirin Navegant wanders in from the lane leading through Trader's Home, walking slowly amidst the clicks of a metallic walking stick lightly probing the ground ahead of him. When he finally arrives, he stands facing out to the sea.
Kima, a woman that is usually so bright, so vivacious...looks a little like death warmed over today. She arrives, yes, slinking alongside the much taller Victus. Her expression is a mixture of creeping dread and forced excitement. "Before you go," she's saying to Victus. "Help me get a good spot." Pointing, she directs his gaze to the place she's chosen. "There. In the shade." Yes, she's using his size to her advantage. Kima has no shame.
Jaenelle has been here for some time it seems, carefully moving along the event route to make sure everything is properly set. She looks radiant, as if this is what she was born to do. Her dress, the color of the sea beside them, is lifted slightly as to avoid the sand as she makes her way towards a small wooden seating area. Helped by her guard, she waits until people begin to arrive. Her voice carries, despite her small stature, as if commanding an Army, "May I have everyone's attention please! If you wish to participate in the swimming event, please state your name now. The swimming is the first event!"
A deep chuckle at Acacia from Marcas, "Aye. Well, I'm gettin' wet. I needed a bath today anyways." he tells her with a wink as he starts to stride off. Pointing back at her, "If I win, ye owe me what Tons of Fun thar is havin'." he points to the overweight man who is snarfing down turkey legs. Making his way to be seen by Jaenelle. "Marcas Aodh!" he hollars out his name with a raised hand.
When Talen arrives at the Golden Decathlon he is already a few minutes late. The fact doesn't seem to register upon the Sword's face, a simple thrown name pitched in. "Master Talen Artiglio, the Sword of Lenosia, to compete." The fellow is dressed down in muted black leather pants and tunic, gloves and boots adorning hands and feet respectively.
Lydia moves her way delicately through the crowd of people here to see the day's events. She winds her way around one person and then another almost as if the entire thing was a dance until she winds up somewhere towards the front of the crowd of observers. There, she looks down at the competitors getting ready, with green eyes that shine in excitement. "Oh, look! There's the organizer. That dress is gorgeous, don't you think?" This is offered to whomever happens to be standing nearby.
Viviana stretches and strides over towards the edge of the beach where the other participants are gathering. "Lady Viviana Pravus." She informs Jaenelle.
Rohkir lingers among the crowds, wandering through, and at a particularly inopportune moment, his eyes get drawn by some woman already getting a bit more 'aqua'dynamic for an edge, already shirking some leathers. It's inopportune, because he bumps an exceptionally overweight man hard enough to nearly knock the poor fella over. Rohkir stops, turning and peering down at the man as if he wasn't sure what he'd stepped on and then he rubs the back of his head, sheepish, before reaching a hand down to clasp the rotund 'swimmer's arm, pulling him back up to his feet by force and less by willingness of the participant. The man opens his mouth, as if to get angry, before Rohkir says, "Sorry about that, bub. Best of luck." He doesn't so much as wait for a response before continuing on, aimless wandering carrying him over toward Freja since he has no intent to compete.
Victus gives Kima a sideways look, amusement lurking in his gaze even if his features remain gruffly neutral. He knows what she's suffering from, and there's no sympathy what so ever for her condition. Even if he is a man who often suffers from the same. At her request, the tall Thraxian uses a combination of pure physical presence and the intimidating weight of his hard stare, to barrel his way through the crowds until he's gotten Kima to the mercy of some shade. "I expect loud fucking cheering." With a snort, he leaves her there.



"Victus Thrax." The sound of his rough gravely voice carries, as Victus makes his way towards where the competitors are gathering up.
Calista arrives to the Seawatch Gate just as Jaenelle makes her announcement. The noblewoman sweeps through the throngs of spectators until she finds herself a spot that is suitable for viewing. She comes upon Lydia who is commenting on Jaenelle's attire and replies in kind to the young woman. "Yes, my lady, Princess Jaenelle is quite fashionable." Her lips curve into a smirk as she listens out for the names of the competitors. "I am Lady Calista Fidante of Tor."
(OOC) Gustave says: Arrrgh!
(OOC) Gustave Returns.
Freja gives a glance to Rohkir as he approaches, a flick of her hand in Marcas' direction. "I think he will do well, don't you?" she observes softly, narrowing her keen gaze to glance over the others calling out their names.
Off in the distance, floats a beautiful wooden ship with two massive red sails. On its flagpost there are two flags, above the second one is House Pravus' banner and below, a blue flag with the silohuette of a shark which almost always goes unnoticed before its too late. The ship was built for quick but long voyages. The type usually reserved for merchants but this one shows the signs of the Abandoned pirates having raided the ship and then recaptured to be refitted to serve as an Admiral's barge, a smaller command boat to lead the Admiral's fleet of Warships.



A small but equally beautiful skiff with the same colored sails makes its way to the stairs of the Seawatch Gate. The skiff is being sailed by a small and older man who is accompanied by Admiral Alrec and his other officers. All of whom exit the skiff once the line is tied. Alrec is wearing nothing but small shorts, designed for swimming, it being something you expect from a sailor. His body is heavily tattoed and if one were inclined to study art from southern regions, one would find that they all have bits and pieces from different nations. He approaches Jaenelle and bows his head with a sly smirk, "Admiral Alrec of the Bullshark of Setarco, we will be competing in today's events under the banner of House Pravus."
(OOC) Jaenelle says: I have Marcas, Talen, Viviana, Victus, Calista, and Alrec thus far, anyone I missed?
"If you lose, I'm expecting something in return," Acacia retorts towards Marcas, though she wears an easier grin upon her features as she walks his departure. Slanting a look aside towards Freja, the Princess seeming to stand out to her along the sidelines, she begins to step that way, but only after extending a brief, but respectful bow in Lydia's direction. She'd perhaps opened her mouth to say more, before Calista had joined in and she offers a secondary bow before she covertly excuses herself from the better company.

But this doesn't seem to extend to Freja, who she somewhat fearlessly approaches, if only to stand a respectable distance away still, "Does he take to the waters, your Highness?"
(OOC) Gustave is just posing in.
(OOC) Calista says: No no!
(OOC) Jaenelle says: Ok :)
(OOC) Calista says: I was introducint myself to Lydia.
(OOC) Jaenelle says: Oh! TOO LATE
(OOC) Talen says: And the hopes of the men fell.
(OOC) Viviana says: I think Jaenelle should ICly think she's taking part anyway.
(OOC) Calista laughs.
He's not much for sailing, but the Marquis Blackram has certainly done his share of swimming up and down a river or two. He's sans armor for the moment, his tunic and trousers ofthe Blackram bone white and black, his gaze traveling amongst the various other competitors. "MArquis Gustave Blackram, here for the swimming event." He grunts and begins to stretch, his daughter seemingly amongst the crowd and no doubt under some measure of guard. He goes to stand aside Victus, giving a nod. "Try to go easy on me, Lord Victus. If only so that I might look somewhat passable in front of my daughter. Though I suspect she would rather have me winning tournaments than engaging in such displays."
(OOC) Calista says: That's what I get for playing when I've JUST woken up.
(OOC) Alrec says: can I step out to remove my armor or should I not worry about it?
(OOC) Viviana says: I wouldn't worry about it.
(OOC) Talen says: Assume you're out.
(OOC) Alrec says: Ok, thank you.
Rohkir nods to Freja, lips quirked in a smile. "Aye, I figure Marcas'll do well enough. I've no intent to swim, today. If I can avoid it anyhow. I assume you're not competing either?"
Jaenelle looks out at those gathered to participate and watch. Her chin lifts and a smile forms as she speaks out across the beach, "it takes a brave man or woman to give their fate to the sea, to test their strength and determination against the rough, unyielding waves. The water is unforgiving but you, my brave adventurers, must show it you are unafraid and just as stubborn. May I have Mister Marcas, Sword Talen, Lady Viviana, Lord Victus, Admiral Alrec, Marquis Gustave, and...Lady Calista, please, move towards the line drawn in the sand and wait for my mark. You are make your way out to the first buoy and return as quickly as you are able. The next event awaits." She peers at the list, then expects those named to hop to it.



OOC:

The object is to swim to the buoy and return to the beach the fastest.



To reach the buoy, you need to @check strength+athletics at 15. Pose.



The return from the buoy, you need to @check stamina+athletics at 15. Pose
"Tor!" Lydia straightens up at this seeming to take delight in the introduction. "You're the first person that I've met from there. I'm Lady Lydia Nightgold, of Stonedeep." There's a warm smile as her eyes shift from the competitors to Calista and then back to the field of men and women getting ready. "What do you think of the competitors? You must know them better than I do."
"I'm here, aren't I?" Kima retorts to Victus, and though her grin isn't the brightest, it's still honest. "I'll cheer, and you had better swim faster with every damned one of them, too." She jabs her finger at Victus as she says this, but then her arm is swinging out, gesturing to Marcas. "Watch out for that man, I don't think he's human." Winking, Kima allows herself a low chuckle.



Eventually, her eyes find Talen amongst the crowd, and she further heckles Victus by saying, "You won't mind if I cheer for the Sword of Lenosia a bit, will you?"
"The north is full of water, albeit frozen..." Freja comments to Acacia with an impish quirk of her lips. It isn't quite a full smile, but there is a jovial bit of mischief hinted at there. "No, don't be silly. Get my hair wet?" She teases Rohkir, extending an introdution between the pair, "Mistress Acacia, my cousin, Prince Rohkir."
Victus throws Gustave a sideways look up and down, then grunts out a greeting belatedly, coupled with a gruff nod of acknowledgement in return. A tall man, its not often Victus ends up being the scrawnier shorter man. But next to Gustave, well, that's exactly what he is. When he finally answers, its a rough: "Doubt I'll need to." His hands reach up to the collar of his shirt to start pulling it off and over his head. Beneath, his torso is tan, and covered with a mixture of scars and intricate blue tattoos. He walks towards the starting line without a hurry, where he also discards a pair of open sandals, and then starts to tug off his pants as well. In the end that leaves him with just a pair of mid thigh short pants in a brown material.
Viviana kicks off her boots as she heads down to the edge of the beach and glances either side at the compeitors, when the judge drops the flag she dives into the water and starts swimming.
Talen certainly doesn't mind that people might wish to cheer for him, but it's directly the opposite of what one might think. Wedging his boot into the sand, Talen kneels to collect a handful of it and nthen surveys the other competitors who line up beside him. Viviana is given a light toss of the sand, the spray barely reaching her from the gap between them.
Marcas doesn't seem to bless the audience with any of his titles or duties. Instead he busies himself removing his armor. Handing the pieces off to a servant along with his weapons. Axe, bootknife, sword. That broadsword is handed over with a point to the servant's face. "Ye take good care of that an' thar is a knight in it for ye." he winks. Starting to take off his boots which causes him to hop on one foot, then the other. The servant makes a face and turns his head when those are added to the pile in his arms.



Apparently those boots must stink judging by the poor kid's face. Marcas, blessedly, is wearing some sort of homespun boxers beneath his pants. Thankfully. Undershirt peeled off to reveal a network of scars from countless engagements of war. Tattoos of Northern knotwork and animal designs of bears, wolves, ravens grace his chest, back, shoulders, arms, stomach... and one wee bright yellow flower on his back shoulder. The Redrain Captain looks over at others who prepare. Staring at one who is tucking hair under a silk cap. Which causes Marcas to look at him as if he is mad. The Northman looking like a bear next to the slip of a swimmer. Regardless, he makes his way to the line and prepares.
(OOC) Viviana says: You probably shouldn't do the second roll yet btw.
(OOC) Talen says: You're right. My bad.
(OOC) Talen says: I just felt so intimidated by your crit.
(OOC) Gustave says: So its pose, then first roll?
Alrec stretches for a moment after speaking to Jaenelle and moving back to join his crew. They give him confident pats on the back and send him off to join the competitors. He stands at the line and dives into the water.
(OOC) Viviana says: Do the roll before you do your pose about the first stretch of the race, you can do a diff pose before that though if you'd like.
(OOC) Jaenelle says: First roll, pose swimming, second roll, pose coming back
(OOC) Marcas says: bahaha!
(OOC) Kima says: Marcas, lol.
"Your Highness. Always a pleasure to be in your company," Acacia's palm scrapes against her abdomen when she levels a flourished bow towards Rohkir, a sliver of amusement curling her lips, before she delivers towards Freja aside, "We've met, your Highness-- though, admittedly, only once or so. This would be our second." Her words taper off when Marcas' stripped form is more thoroughly revealed, her expression schooled merely to something thoughtful, before she remarks, "... The Captain certainly has a history upon his skin though, doesn't he."
Her mouth opens to say something to Lydia when Jaenelle calls her out. There's a look of confusion on her face and of course there is someone there to nudge her forward. "Ohh, no, wait!" She cries out, laughter on her lips." She turns to halt the random person who is trying to usher her towards the start line and holds her hands up. "I am not competing today. I was introducing myself to Lady Lydia Nightgold." She gestures to her silks of blush and bashful and arches a brow. "Do you think I could really get these silks wet?" The Lycene noblewoman has the 'usher' go and tell Jaenelle there's been a mistake. "Apparently they think I -am- a competitor!" The Fidante has a pleasant disposition about her the whole time. "Perhaps Princess Jaenelle is merely playing a trick on me." She teases. "Let's see, the current competitors are all quite fascinating. I am rather partial to those who are also from the Lycene, but Lord Victus is a force to be reckoned with. Have you recently arrived to Arx, Lady Lydia?"
Talen darts down the beach with a measure pace, his a long, heavy stride that demonstrates the cutting steel of his frame. When he wades out in the crashing waves that come inland, his breath is caught. As soon as he's off the land, however, he seems to be out of his element. Not a sailor, the Lenosian goes for a breast stroke that proves less effective in cutting the tepid waters.
(OOC) Lydia says: Marcas :(
(OOC) Calista says: That was mine, with no name.
Gustave stretches a bit and strips down, though...his garb is just a very well secured leather loincloth securely around his waist and just barely keeping him decent. "What can I say, I like to think they will take pity on an old hill seed like me." Maybe he's going for aerodynamics, maybe he's just emphasizing practicality again. At which point he's out like a shot, butterflying his way behind Viviana.
Dorian has left the game.
Alrec struggles at first with the swim. He seems to preoccupied to notice the others darting pass him toward the bouy. The Admiral isn't a professional swimmer but stills holds himself above the water. Though that isn't good enough.
Viviana powers into the water, she ducks beneath each oncoming wave before surfacing again on the other side to swim harder, moving nearly neck and neck with Gustave before she puts her head down and puts on another little burst of speed, reaching the buoy first and kicking her way around in in a spray of water as she turns to head back towards the beach.
Victus jumps into the water, diving down beneath the surface and coming up further out. He swims with long powerful movements, water splashing in crystaline arches in the wake of his arms' paddling. He falls behind both Viviana and Gustave out towards the bouy.
Freja keeps her eyes on the water, not the stripping down Marcas. She does reply to Acacia though, "Most Northern men are fond of that..particularly soldiers. A fine history, permanent."
Now it could of been that Marcas wasn't ready. Could be from the horrible hangover he is trying to fight. Could be he is not used to the southern sea. He dives in and looks to flail a moment. Maybe a fish touched him? Landed on a shark? Hit a rock? Cramp? "Bllrargagga!" he curses before he starts to swim, waaaaaaay behind everyone else. At least he isn't drowning! Perhaps the big Northman isn't built for swimming and more inclined for land-based skirmishes. Regardless, Marcas isn't a quitter and he keeps paddling the water.
(OOC) Viviana says: You want to redo yours Victus and Talen?
Lydia looks down on the competitors with a hint of consternation. "Really? Do you know her well enough that she would be playing a joke like that on you? Maybe someone put in a name that /sounds/ like yours? Could that be it? That /must/ bit it." She gives a firm not as if this decides the matter and then stands up a little straighter, pointing down to the swimmers, first with excitement and then slumping a little. "Ohh! That one's a northman, but he seems to be falling behind."
(OOC) Talen says: I'm posing my second pose now. No need to reroll. It's unfair.
(OOC) Victus says: Rolled is rolled, far as I'm concerned. It doesn't really matter when we did 'em
(OOC) Freja says: Marcas, the anchor weight for the Northern fleet
Kima, despite ardently wishing for the comfort of her bed, watches the swimmers with obvious excitement. Of course she cheers, dutiful friend that she is, but the cheers soon turn into laughs. She brings a hand to her mouth in order to stifle it, and then subsequently groans - her hand moving from mouth to forehead.
When Talen finally reaches the bouy, he is not quite at the lead. Viviana, Victus and a few others perhaps seem to have the speed to out pace him. Exhaling breathes that leave him spouting just the smallest amount of water, he then dives, curves and swims back to the surface in languid motion to return. Wet lashes, wet hair, it all clings to his bronzed skin and his leather shrinks about his frame. When his feet tromp sand once more, his body is heavy than expected but he manages to get back to the line without too much delay. "I would dare say you're a mermaid, Voice," he calls to Viviana, then to Victus and dares add, "and you as well, my lord. Mermaids both of you."
(OOC) Marcas serves a purpose at least!
(OOC) Marcas says: Ha! Mer-MAN
(OOC) Kima says: If they're mermaids, Marcas is today's seacow.
(OOC) Viviana says: Order is Gustave first, then Viviana, Victus, Talen, Alrec, Marcas.
(OOC) Talen says: Nope.
(OOC) Talen says: Mermaids.
(OOC) Marcas says: Oh I am the huge manatee?
(OOC) Kima says: Yes.
(OOC) Gustave says: Oh the huge manatee!
Rohkir doesn't particularly seemed surprised at Marcas's scars, nor does he spare much thought into it, commenting offhand to Acacia, "He is everything expected of a Redrain soldier, aye, as she suggested." He motions to Freja, "It is good to see you though, Acacia. You've not been up to too much trouble, have ye'?"
(OOC) Kima laughs.
Viviana slips easily around the buoy and into the home stretch in the lead, but then a huge mass of splashing water appears on her right as the huge Blackram starts to overtake her, she puts her head down for another small spurt of speed but isn't able to keep up and slips further back, finishing a body length or two behind the big man.
With a grunt Victus crests the water in the end. He's killed a decent chunk of the distance to Viviana, but still ends up third in the end. Streams of water sloshes off him as he straightens up, his hair turned dark and wet and whipping about his scarred face as he shakes his head like a dog. The short pants are wet and clings to his skin, semi-indecently. He wipes his hand down the front of his face, flicking away the worst of the drainage. Though he says nothing, he gives Gustave a companionable enough slap on the back to congratulate the Marquis.
"Perhaps not as fond of the waters though, your Highness," Acacia quips towards Freja, bringing the heel of her hand up to stifle her grin and then looking with more interest towards those who take the lead. Expelling a quiet whistle, she shakes her head a bit, "... That was impressive, I have to say. Not surprising though." A trailing of a look is spared between Talen and Victus, but she only presents a serene smile at the outcome, one that transitions swiftly to another grin towards Rohkir, "I'm ever the most upstanding citizen, your Highness. Anyone who thinks otherwise clearly has it wrong. Please don't try to set me up with any other real men though. That /would/ land me into trouble. Speaking of trouble-- I should duck to the side. There's someone I need to speak to briefly."
Freja laughs at something, hiding it behind a pale hand. When that moment passes she comments to Rohkir and Acacia, "I can't say I would fare much better. I won't drown, but I won't be a mermaid either..." A glance between the two of them, "Too much trouble, hmm? Oh, pity. We'll need to speak again and soon though, Mistress Acacia."
Calista continues to watch the competition at Lydia's side. She rises onto her toes once Talen and Viviana get far enough out where she can't properly see them. "I know her well enough, yes. She's lovely and charming. You should make her acquaintance after the competition." Her eyes follow Lydia's towards Marcas who is trailing behind some. "Perhaps he'll pick up. Lord Gustave is doing well. I've mistaken him for a Northman a few times." Then as the name rolls around on her tongue, she turns to Lydia with some curiosity, "Are you related to Duchess Nadia Nightgold?"
Alrec comes around the bouy and doesn't stop, almost as if he catches his second wind. It is in that fashion that he is catapulted forward, leaving Marcas behind. The Admiral raises from the sea, combing his hair back and shaking his head at the realization that he lost. He moves to join his crew who pat him again on the shoulders, this time in a comforting fashion. Alrec sits and grunts, "Prepare the skiff." With that, the crew moves to ensure the skiff is ready for the next event. The Admiral sits by himself, draining his nose and spitting the sea to the side.
Fatima arrives.
Gustave is not as fast as Viviana in the first leg perhaps, but he's in a comfortable second coming towards the buoy, theough he manages to make up the backend quite a bit. He doesn't even seem to notice the passing, just pushing forward, forward, leaping out of the water with each forward stroke like a skipping stone or a particularly saucy dolphin. His hand tags the finish line and places his hands onto the beach, cresting like some kind of heavily muscled mermaid, taking several heavy inhalations as he reaches for and grasps Victus's hand. "At least if we go sailing together you won't have to worry about me going over, my friend." Viviana too gets a bow, the Marquis utterly unaware of his lack of modest dress or willing to look over it. "Well done, Lady Pravus." He says with a smile and a chuckle. Sigrun though is probably looking for the equivelant of bleach for her eyes right about now.
(OOC) Kima says: Gustave, the saucy dolphin.
You know that one guy who just gives it his all but everything turns up snake eyes for him? Marcas be thy name. It isn't for lack of trying, Marcas does try. Sure he could try harder but it could of been any number of things. The way he is battered about by the waves, not used to the current of the sea? Oh the excuses can go on and on but one thing he does not do is give up. Nope! Despite being the last bastard on the beach again, he seems in good spirits.



The water sloshes and pools around him, he is laughing and looks exhausted. Gasping for breath, "I need a pair of them... skivvies!" he points to Alrec's fancy swim gear. Panting as he stands up straight again from where his hands were on his knees. Holding his side, "Me beard.." he points to his face, "... me beard got wet, dragged me down... currents an' arrow-die-nomics of the shite.." he pants out. Blowing water out of his face before pushing his fingers through his hair to settle it back. ".. I need a fookin' drink." he sighs out, catching his breath.
(OOC) Talen says: Clickclickclick!
(OOC) Jaenelle says: Everyone posed and ready?
(OOC) Talen says: Yes ma'am.
Jaenelle is a patient woman, and as the swimmers line up and she calls out for them to begin, she watches with rapt attention as they dive into the water. She counts heads, eyes shifting to where Calista sits with an amused grin and a soft sigh as if she is quite disappointed that the noblewoman didn't join in. Her attention though is back on the swimmers as people pull ahead quickly, the rough waves getting the better of some on the way back. As people begin to touch sand, Gustave is spotted first, Viviana not far after in second, and swaggering in third, Victus. "Very good! Thank you to all out swimmers! Now I know you are all tired, but please, the next event is to begin, may I have names for this one?"
(OOC) Gustave now a Searam as well, apparently!
Talen squares his shoulders and calls out his name again, for clarity. "Talen Artiglio."
"If you so much as get a scratch in--"

"A bet's a bet, love," Acacia nonchalantly claps the flummoxed man upon the shoulder, which only makes the puffy red of his features all the more prominent. "Besides," she continues, scratching idly at her throat as she saunters down towards the awaiting skiff at the end of the docks, a sleek little number-- something that would pale beneath the opulance of the higher nobility, but certainly that which is above her station, "... I'm not entirely sure I even remember how to handle one of these."

Hopping fearlessly inside, the smaller vessel precariously rocks beneath her when gloved hands check the rigging and then balance her casual lean against the tiller. As she sweeps back her scarlet curls to be half-tamed by a strip of leather, voicing up towards Jaenelle, "Acacia Culler."
Alrec's crew shout Alrec's name to let Jaenelle know that Alrec is competing in the next event.
Rohkir glances at Acacia, and chuckles. Then, aside to Freja, asks, "I'm assuming you've not gone out and bought a small boat, or ship, or whatever since I last spoke with you?"
Freja crinkles her nose, "No, no, I haven't gotten myself plastered and asked for a ship yet...just a set of silks." She glares at her cousin, just DARING him to tease her about it. "Fergus already said enough, alright?! Silky scout, yada yada..."
"Victus Thrax," Victus announces again.



His big meaty fists are crushing the water out of his long hair, then gathering it up at the small of his neck with a strip of leather. Since he's still wet, getting his shirt back on is a bit of a trick, and in the end it sticks to masculine planes like a second layer of skin. He also puts on his pants again.



A group of Thraxians have made ready an old skiff, with brown sails and nicks and scratches on the side from fishing lines. Still, it has some nice lines to it, old though the little boat might be.



Wriggling his toes, he puts on his sandals again, then starts to make his way over to the skiff.
Viviana comes out of the water dripping wet, but grinning all the same as she nods to Gustave. "Impressive swim." She tells him before moving over to give Jaenelle her name again, and tug her boots back on as well. "Lady Viviana Pravus." She says before making her way towards her own small dark redwood skiff.
Lydia's lips crinkle up in a fond smile. "She's my older sister. Took on all the responsibility, so that I can come and do enjoyable things myself." Her eyes then move towards the man who comes in first, hands moving together in enthusiastic applause, as she leans over to reply to Calista "I can see where the confusion might come from. He's quite impressive."
Rohkir leans over, bumping Freja gently with his shoulder. "Easy cousin. I'll not judge you for buyin' a few silks. Remember? I've already got silks." He chuckles, as if that were a settled issue.
Trying to get back into normal pants is a nightmare when you are wet or even damp. Trying to get into leather pants? Forget it. Marcas doesn't even try. His clothing articles are at least put into a hemp sac for him. Armor and such tied together with twine along with his weapons. The servant is afforded a coin pulled from one of his pieces of gear and flicked to him. "Go down to the Unkindness with that, mate. Order somethin' call The Green Dragoon." he nods firmly, "Enjoy.". Then makes his way right for the general seating. Sea wet and all, smelling like salt water and fish. A piece of kelp still wrapped around his ankle. Water dripping on spectators that curse under their breath as the big Northman makes his way through the crowd closer to Rohkir and Freja.
(OOC) Rohkir says: Got to afk for 20 minutes. Pose around me.
"I heard your first color choices were...questionable." Freja nods, "I approve. Thank you for not being a lush or fashionista." That said, she turns a curious ear and eye to the rest of the spectators.
"Hey Victus," Kima calls from where she is perched. "I want to be impressed!" Sailing, after all, was that noble Thraxian pursuit.
Freja casts a glance to Marcas as he approaches. "Built like a rock, steady like a wall. You are a true Northman soldier." she remarks with a fond tone.
Quirin merely turns slightly to face towards the section of the bay hosting the second event, leaning forward onto the long metal rod, cupping its bulbous grip under his interlocked fingers.
Since he is not sailing, Gustave takes the time to cool off from the exertion, his breath returning to normal as he takes a seat amongst the spectators. He is then joined by the Lady Sigrun, who notable does not hug her father until he is wrapped in a blanket and thus presentable to polite society. "My Dear Marquis, just what exactly were you thinking?" The child asks with an arched eyebrow, though there is some lingering affection and pride in her tone. "Well, it worked didn't it? Besides, I needed the exercise. I'
(OOC) Gustave says: damnit.
(OOC) Jaenelle says: So for this, I have Talen, Acacia, Alrec, Victus, and Viviana?
Marcas settles his gear off to the side, petting back his wet hair as he drips like a wet dog. At least he doesn't shake himself like a dog, small mercy in that. "Thank ye." he grins at Freja, "That was refreshin'!" he talks as if he were more taking the chance to have a 'bath' rather than, well, actually try to compete. A not-so-smooth cover up but he is not disturbed about coming in last at least. "I swear these Southern types are half fish. I'm gonna start checkin' 'em fer gills an' webbed feet.".
Since he is not sailing, Gustave takes the time to cool off from the exertion, his breath returning to normal as he takes a seat amongst the spectators. He is then joined by the Lady Sigrun, who notable does not hug her father until he is wrapped in a blanket and thus presentable to polite society. "My Dear Marquis, just what exactly were you thinking?" The child asks with an arched eyebrow, though there is some lingering affection and pride in her tone. "Well, it worked didn't it? Besides, I needed the exercise. If I'm to compete in that damn tournament just to make you happy, can't be out of shape, can I?" Sigrun says nothing for a moment, resting her head on her fathers shoulder. "Even if you are embarrasing, I do still love you...papa." Gustave pats the girls shoulder as they watch the swimmers, the Marquis rolling his shoulder as he takes a moment to study the other spectators.
Talen may or may not be staring vaguely in the direction of Gustave and Sigrun, then he stares at the sky. "I'm going to vomit."
Jaenelle claps for each as they make their way back to the not so undisturbed lined drawn in the sand, the once smooth beach now littered with the footfalls of the participants. Small boats now sit where the race began, "our brave swimmers have shown they have what it takes to face the waves head on, but how do they fair on top of them? Each contestant who wishes to participate has been outfitted with a small skiff if you do not have one on hand. You and the highly trained crew member of your choice (npc) are tasked with sailing in the small boat from the shore to the buoy beyond and returning with not only you in one piece, but your humble vessel as well."



OOC:

The object is for you and your NPC to take a skiff, circle the buoy, and return back to the shore.



To sail to the buoy, @check strength+athletics at 15 for outward leg. Pose.



To sail back to the shore, @check stamina+athletics at 15. Pose.


(OOC) Alrec says: I hope you mean sailing
(OOC) Gustave says: ...
(OOC) Viviana says: Those rolls aren't right.
(OOC) Acacia says: It's luck+sailing, dexterity+sailing
(OOC) Jaenelle says: Those are the ones you put up!
(OOC) Viviana says: It should be luck+sailing, then dexterity+sailing.
(OOC) Gustave says: Noted!
(OOC) Jaenelle kicks Viviana and her @cal post!
Calista claps for the competitors and for the winners. "That was certainly a rousing event!" The woman places her hand near her heart and if anyone is watching her -that- closely, they may notice a bolder smile smearing across her lips with what seems like a discreet waggle of fingers in someone's direction. Perhaps in Talen's direction. Who can be sure though. There's another glance back to Lydia and this time she smiles brightly. "That is terribly sweet. I have heard many wonderful things about Lady Nadia, but I have not properly met her, yet. We should remedy this."
(OOC) Jaenelle read it totally wrong, ignore me!
(OOC) Calista flicks Jaenelle :P
"If you start checking every Southerner for gills and webbed feet, you may just start a political and diplomatic 'incident'." Freja advises Marcas. "We can't go around removing boots and slippers...people will think us uncivilized, and then we really can't run around in just fur cloaks."
There's a flurry of movement as Fatima approaches, and the handmaiden following her is struggling to keep up. She's waving the woman over and as she sees the others she slows and begins to walk at a much more graceful leisurely pace. Her handmaiden doesn't notice this, at first, and nearly runs into her before she slows down at the very last second. She nods her head politely to everyone she passes as she makes her way to Jaenelle. She kisses her cousin lightly on the cheek and speaks quietly, "I'm sorry I'm late, dearest cousin. Something... came up." There's a foreboding to her voice but she just smiles sweetly and takes a step back, adding her applause for those involved.
(OOC) Marcas says: Does Talen's foot put a hole in the bottom of the boat and he sinks? XD
(OOC) Talen says: He vomits. Clearly.
(OOC) Gustave says: This is what you get for being mean about my kid.
(OOC) Kima says: Lol!
(OOC) Marcas says: The boat fills with vomit.
(OOC) Calista distracted him, that's why!
(OOC) Gustave says: Sigrun, goddess of luck, is not to be screwed with. Also Calista.
An onslaught of wind crisply ripples through the Acacia's sail once its unleashed, proudly displaying a garishly feminine sunflower done in vivid streaks of pinks and purples-- which promptly has her head turning to locate the ruddy-faced paunch merchant who is decidedly the owner of such a vessel. "When you said you loved your wife--," she shouts at him from across the waters, humor vivid within her expression as she shakes her head, "Blessed be."

Rolling her eyes, there's a wry twist of Acacia's lips, before she adjusts her grip for both steering and control, the rope twisting within her grip as she measures the weather; coasting rather than ripping through the waters upon the unfamiliar skiff.
"Oh, but we should!" Lydia tears her eyes away from the boats, which didn't seem to offer as much interest to her as the swimmers to turn fully towards Calista. "You should come and visit one evening. I'll make sure that Nadia isn't off doing anything and then we can all sit down and have a nice long talk and get to know each other."
Viviana settles into her boat and pushes off from the dock, she bobs in the water for a few seconds, hair and clothes still wet from the swim before the signal to begin is fired and she drops her mast which billows out in smooth stylish black in contrast to Acacia's pretty tacky boat. Unfortunately the wind doesn't seem very impressed by her sails and she has a hard time heading out towards the buoy, tacking frantically back and forth to catch a good angle as she falls into third place a little way behind Acacia.
(OOC) Acacia says: It's actually Victus, Alrec, Acacia, Viv
Talen was perhaps not lying when he made his claim because as he develops a fast friend with one of his fellow Lycene swordsmen and climbs into the boat, he doesn't do anything but stare in the direction of Gustave. There's an indication that he's incredulous of the nobleman and his child's interaction, before he looks toward Calista, seemingly distractedly by the motions. Sat in the boat, he lets the single man row the two-person boat. "Faster!" Talen snaps at the man, unimpressed by his efforts. Failing to assist ensures that slowly but surely, that boat becomes the very last in the race to the indicated mark. "Well, you'r euseless, aren't you?"
you're useless*
Alrec enters the skiff and sends the crew away for the Regatta, "Prepare the ship, I'll sail this one on my own." He says to them and begins paddling the boat to the start line. When the alarm to start the race commences, the Admiral lines the sails with the wind and his little skiff shoots across. Alrec looks and feel more comfortable on the boat than he did in land and swimming but comfort is not enough. Victus' skiff takes the lead which creates a strange grin on his face, "Seriously Mangata?" He laughs and attempts to make up his speed on teh way back.
Victus slips into his skiff with the practiced motions of a man born and raised for the sea. He's a big man in a small boat, but still looks effortlessly comfortable. Throwing loose, his hands move around to do everything with calm but quick and sure movements, raising the brown sail up, angling the vessel to catch the best of the wind, and then constantly making small little adjustments while he reads the wind and the waves and the movements of the other boats. Boats whose own sails might steal some of his wind.
The number of skiffs present within the waters already has the waves a bit more treacherous than usual, the current pulling at vessels where mastery of tillers is assuredly called into question. A potential misjudgement has Acacia failing in her close turn, the rigging stretched when the angle itself has her extended form near skimming upon the water itself; before one hand is deftly released. This is despite the fact that it looks as if her sail had caught fuller wind.

Her given direction skews sharply to the side, the stronger winds redirecting her vessel into the most expedient pathway of none other than Sword Talen himself. With a startled cry, she's abruptly leaping before it might tip to cement its presence within the waters, flipping in a small show of acrobatics off to splash among the waves and off-course, placing her out of the race entirely.
(OOC) Gustave says: And meanwhile, Gustave has to jump in to save Talen.
(OOC) Kima snorts.
(OOC) Talen says: Talen can swim, man. He just can't sail. What is this 'all for one' ethic? #UpjumpedCommoner
(OOC) Kima says: Talen, you keep it up with those hashtags, man...
(OOC) Talen says: It started as irony...
(OOC) Talen says: It is now a way of life.
(OOC) Viviana says: So it's Victus, then Alrec, then Viviana, then Acacia.
(OOC) Freja eyetwitches
Marcas squints, trying to watch the waters and the skiffs. Nose scrunched like he may not have that great of distance vision. "Aye." he nods to Freja, "Still, somethin' to look for all the same." he grins at her. "I think I lost sight of Acacia." he mutters absently. "I wish I knew how to sail. It looks fun. If me sailin' is like me swimmin' in these seas? Prolly best not to."
"I would like that very much, Lady Lydia." Calista manages to say while doing her best to hide some laughter. "It appears my liege's Sword is having some difficulty." She gestures now to Talen for Lydia to take notice. "Master Talen Artiglio, fantastic on land..." The rest of her thoughts sort of sail away from her.
Talen's way back from the bouy is impeded at every turn-- at least if you ask him. First there's the failure of the Lycene male he has paired with, not rowing hard enough to keep up the efforts of the two person weight afloat. Then there's Acacia, cutting him off and sending him bobbing in the waters for a few minutes. When Talen finally pitches in, it's half-hearted, simply meant to get them back to shore. "This is why our allies from the isles sail the fucking ships," he says, unaffected emotionally but nevertheless sweary for effort.
"You can always ask her for lessons." Freja suggest to Marcas, "Mistress Acacia seems apt." With that, she rises to her feet and gives a polite nod of parting. "I have some running and drills I would like to run through, so I'll see you around. Until then, good day."
(OOC) Freja needs to scoot off to drive home. Bye folks!
(OOC) Acacia says: Bye!
Freja is leaving Arx - Upper Boroughs - Seawatch Gate, heading for Arx - Ward of House Redrain - Redrain Villa - Hunter Bedroom 1.
Victus leads the event from start to finish, his skiff catching the wind if not perfectly, then at least close enough to seal the deal, while he wastes the least time with the angles he cuts. Occasionally he squints a look back over his shoulder to see the distance to the other boats, but whatever he sees gives him no concern. Running his hand through his hair, he allows himself a grudging little smile to curl around the corner of his mouth.



His Thraxians are waiting for him once he's passed through the finish and come up to dock. They take the boat as he climbs out. He finds Kima in the crowd and throws her a look as if to say: 'There, impressed enough?'
Viviana does a lot better on the way back, able to squeeze past Acacia although she doesn't close in on the two in the lead very much. Pulling her boat into dock in third place and getting out with a frown. "Damn wind." She complains.
The smaller sized event does not hinder Jaenelle's look as wonder as she watches those who wished to participate enter their small boats. She expects nothing less than amazing from Victus, who pulls to an early lead. As Fatima approaches, her attention is diverted momentarily and she returns the cheek kiss. As she looks back towards the water, she visable winces as she watches Talen's display, but only shakes her head as the boats begin to wash ashore. "In Third place, it appears we have Lady Viviana, second Admiral Alrec, and first as if it were any surprise Lord Victus! I am only glad you won cousin, we would have laughed at you for days." She glances at Fatima, including her in the 'we'
There's a splash of water thrust in Talen's general direction by Acacia's own purposeful hand, her form bobbing in the darker water though her retort is deftly stolen by the crashing of a wave over her head. Flipping her drenched curls back from her face, that's full relief when she eyes him and then competently swims towards her upended skiff to assist her confused crew member in flipping it over and the more grevious task of towing it back to shore before the next event. "Happens to us all, love."
Kima blows Victus a kiss at that look, and then a little finger-waggle of a wave. Yes, yes, she was impressed! Or rather, she was not disappointed, which she most certainly would have been had Victus not won that which he was supposedly /known/ for. Kima is a harsh woman.
"Good! I'll plan on it then." Lydia gives a Calista a broad smile, hands once again moving to applaud politely for the winners. "If you'll excuse me, though, I think I saw some of my countrymen, including the swimmer, and I would hate to leave without offering them a greeting."
Alrec's smile turns to a frown as he is unable to catch up to Victus. The Admiral attempts his best to adjust his boat but that is not enough and he is left behind the Lord's boat. Eventually Alrec makes it back and the officers that stayed behind take command of the skiff. The Admiral, humiliated by being beaten by Victus doesn't stay to linger. Instead he waits for the officers to join his skiff and sail him back to the ship for the Regatta. A sailor is left behind to sign Alrec into the competition.
"Those who wish to participate in our final event of the day, may I have names please" Jaenelle calls out, half expecting the same names as before to be heard.
A sailor calls out for Admiral Alrec, signing him up for the event.
Talen is stood on the beach, hands on his knees and staring off toward Acacia with a slight focus. "We can't be good at everything, sailor," he says, then rights his posture and raises an arm, still breathing heavy and hoping Jaenelle spots him.
Rohkir scratches his head.
Fatima's nod is the affirmative to Jaenelle's comment and she says teasingly, "Maybe months, instead of days. It's hard to say." Those words are quickly punctuated by a smile and a serious, "Congratulations, cousin!" Fatima glances around at the others present and watches as they approach to sign up for the next event. She inhales sharply of the ocean air and says, "It's a lovely day for this, isn't it?" She's speaking mostly to Jaenelle, but her voice and eyes both carry to anyone within earshot.
Calista gives Lydia a little nod. "Yes of course. It was lovely to have met you, Lady Lydia. Be well." She too claps for the winners, not surprised to see Victus in the first place spot. She does giggle a little, at Kima, and decides to save something for later.
A bearded man on shore, suspicious-looking at best, greets Acacia once she climbs up alone the line, leaking water upon ever squealching step and looking all the more exhilarated for it as a result. "Acacia Culler," she voices up towards Jaenelle again, but only after Talen had, slanting a look towards the man with a smirk curling her lips. And then with care, she's tromping off after brushing at her shoulder-- for all the good that would do for the sake of appearances, to an awaiting ship of only dubious design where no less than five casks of alcohol are being rolled up the side of it. Their purpose might be uncertain, although the shady crew on board certainly don't seem to mind; cheering loudly.
Victus gives Jaenelle and Fatima a look when the former announces his victory in the way she does. He scratches his beard, then shrugs. Though he doesn't respond to Fatima with words, he acknowledges her congratulations with a small and brusque nod. Turning on his heel he starts to make his way off towards where the bigger ships are docked. One of his people voice up: "Lord Victus Thrax, for the regatta."



It's not Victus' own ship, that is off and away. But its a Thraxian vessel none the less, a sleek hunter of a ship made for speed rather than big fleet action.
"Sword," Kima calls out to Talen. "What's important is being the best at what you are good at, as I think the family you serve might agree!" It seemed a little too informal to actually say the Archduchess or the Duke, so she chose to be a little more general. Thus, while Kima is encouraging Talen, she misses Calista's giggling.
Nadia arrives.
Marcas stands up to let out a shrill whistle, "Show 'em up, Culler!" he hollars out to Acacia encouragingly before he sits himself back down. Whistling northmen in homespun boxer shorts are hard to miss, best to not draw too much attention. At least he seems dry enough now that he is tugging on a shirt. Much to the weeping of maidens around him, alas. So much weeping.
Viviana is in the middle of still putting her rigging up when Jaenelle announces the next event, she frowns slightly and waves over a servant to finish the job as she heads over to Jaenelle and gives her name once again. "Lady Viviana Pravus again." She informs her, now almost dry as she heads down to the docks to make ready a large, sleek looking schooner.
Rohkir pushes up and makes his way over toward Calista, dragging his fingers back through his hair. "Lady Calista, you seem positively entertained." There's amusement coloring his voice. His attention drifts to Lydia briefly, taking in her features, opportunely, just then spotting Nadia for good measure. He looks between the pair, back and forth.
Kima weeps for Marcas. In spirit.
(OOC) Marcas snickers
Alrec is overheard praising Victus for: He has attain the favor of Mangata, a cruel and indecisive goddess. That in its own is an impossible task.
Lydia gives a dip of the head to Calista and is about to step away when Rohkir approaches. There's a polite dip and she smiles towards him brightly. "Highness, if she is it is with good reason. The event has been quite entertaining so far. I'm glad that I came."
Acacia brandishes a lopsided grin across the distance towards Marcas, an easy laugh heard, before she drops down upon the deck itself. Low-spoken words and charm-laced promises are undoubtedly delivered to the unfamiliar crew, within the sight of the kegs-- with the actual Captain of such, very near to her side when she does it. Most would miss the clasp of their hands due to the angle, or the tuck of something slipped into a pocket afterward, but she climbs her way up towards the top soon enough, staring out towards the sea when the slightest hint of something more serious sweeps her visage for only a fleeting minute.
(OOC) Jaenelle says: Acacia, Alrec, Victus, Viviana, and Talen. Ready!?
(OOC) Talen says: WAIT
(OOC) Talen says: Do I still look pretty?
"Prince Rohkir, it's good to see you. Yes, I quite enjoy these sporting events. I enjoy cheering my fellow Lycene athletes." Calista tells the man. "Lady Viviana is very impressive." Her delicate hand gestures to Lydia. "I will assume you both have already met, but if not, this lovely creature is Lady Lydia Nightgold, sister to Duchess Nadia. Lady Lydia, may I introduce Prince Rohkir Redrain."
(OOC) Jaenelle says: <3
(OOC) Calista says: Always.
(OOC) Kima says: Yes.
(OOC) Talen says: OKAY CONTINUE
There is clear excitement on Jaenelle's face as the third event of the day arrives. She all but glows as she looks towards those who wish to participate in this one even as she nudges Fatima to watch. "Bigger is certainly better in this case. Here the participants get to choose what they sail. I wish to thank all those who donated the use of their ships, and crew, for this occasion. We shall wait for you and your crew to board the ship of your choosing, and prepare ourselves for the excitement."



OOC:

@check luck+sailing at 15 for first quarter of trip,

@check luck+sailing at 15 for second.



POSE





@check command+sailing at 15 for first part of return,

@check command+sailing at 15 for final part of return.



POSE
Rohkir peers down at Lydia for a long moment, confusedly. Then, slowly, the Barbarian Prince offers a polite bow. "As she said, Prince Rohkir of Redrain. I'm afraid I don't know you name. My apologies. I've been long from the family. A relation to Duchess Nadia perhaps?"
Talen just drowns. Blub, blub, blub.
(OOC) Kima says: Talen, fare thee well.
(OOC) Calista searches in her purse for a lifesaver.
(OOC) Marcas rimshots
Still swathed in that blanket and finally in some semblance of dryness, Gustave receives his clothes from a servant, although it takes two fully grown men to hold up the blanket whilst he changes so as to avoid scandalizing anyone. In near record time though the Marquis slips back into clothes fit for polite company as he goes to sit amongst his peers, Sigrun perched at his side as the two Blackrams watch the approaching Redrain. He's not hard to spot after all. Gustave for his part seems content to stretch back upon the stands and rest with hands behind his head. "Not a bad day all told. Makes one almost want to take to the sea." Which is of course before Talen encounters another string of bad luck. "Should...someone try and save him?" He asks, though he's ready to once again don the Aquanaut Loincloth of Manliness and dive in to save the Sword of Lenosia.
If need be.
Quirin watches the regatta with great interest, the two lead ships cutting the waters at a very close pace, with the third only slightly behind. Well done.
Talen's journey is wrought with disaster, as though the tempest themselves had risen from the water and set their eyes upon him and his vessel. Whatever the reason for his failure, Talen's ability to take it in stride ought be applauded. When he selects the fast, most lush coursair ship he can find amongst the schooners, he has chosen the rickiest, most slap-dash painted conjob he could come across. Without so much as an eye for true seaworthy vessels, Talen has picked the trap-- the luxury vessel that has so many gilded adornments it weighs itself down and promptly starts to acquire a leak.
(OOC) Viviana says: That's Victus and Alrec tied at 63, Viv at 61, Acacia at 45, and Talen at 25 btw.
Lesson learned. The appearance of the liquor kegs so early into the game ensured that Acacia had lots of cheer and temporary admiration, but a slow start at best, and barely made movement towards the directed point once eager hands were slapped away and focus directed towards their points. But the majesty of the sails themselves, even not of the finer or more stately weave, steals her attention for an extended amount of time; competition lost to something a bit more focused by the time the borrowed crew eventually gets underway enough to heave through the turbulent waters.
Lydia inclines her head properly at the introduction. "The duchess is my older sister. Although, I spent quite a few years away from my family. I served as the Princess Drea's Lady-in-Waiting at Farhaven, and have only recently been allowed to travel here. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, and thank you, Lady Calista for doing the introductions because I was about to come over and do them myself and that would have been very awkward."
As the grand race starts the two sails on Viviana's ship drops and the wind blows them out, she leaps into second place just behind Alrec as her boat shoots along the surface of the water, the dark haired woman seen striding back and forth as she orders her crew about, even as they start to gain on the admiral however Victus' vessel comes racing up the inside and passes her in the second half of the stretch, heading around the buoy with Alrec just a few paces in front of her.
The Thraxian vessel under Victus' command starts out slow, quite a bit behind Alrec and Viviana both. Those damn Pravus captains! He can be seen at the helm, growling and gesticulating with his hands while sailors jump to response with quickness. Gradually the results start to manifest, and first his ship pulls ahead of Viviana's, and then finally start creeping closer and closer to Alrec's. Close enough that the crew can hear each other, and it becomes an issue of who might steal whose wind as they try to angle to cut a lead.



Victus looks across the length of water to Alrec, measuring the other Thraxian (abeit a Thraxian in Pravus colors), and the way he handles his ship. Judging. Plotting. Strategizing how to get a lead based on what the other man is doing. Viviana might not be so far behind as to be out of it, not at all, but its still Alrec he quite obviously focuses on. More orders are barked out, harsh and rough and demanding.
Fatima has left the game.
Fatima has entered the game.
There is a dread among the Bullsharks of Setarco, their captain Admiral Alrec, is a man who does not appreciate failure. That is especially true when it comes from himself. As such, the whip in which he leads his men is sharper. The sailors take the challenge and together they manage to come toe to toe with the Thrax. Alrec didn't care about the others, he was competing against Victus. The drums banging to give the ship's rowers their pace and in return the rowers sing. Alrec stands behind the helmsman and the boatswain of the ship, his first mate by his side shouting orders. The Admiral was quiet. As Victus sails next to him, he turns to look at the vessel, looking for Lord Victus before turning to his First Mate and saying, "Raise the flag." The first mate grins and above all flags, a flag with a shark raises high. This giving the man a reason t o shout proudly, "Loose the sails and cross his bow, over take him."
Rohkir nods his head slowly, eyeing Lydia. "Oh aye, I remember you now. A few years back it's been at least. I was a smaller fella back then." He drags his fingers along his jawline, scratching at growing, blondish stubble. "You were...a smaller back then as well. You do remind me of Duchess Nadia, though I'll admit, perhaps it's now that she reminded me of you and I didn't know it. Aunt Drea was more prone to smackin' me aside my head than anything else back then."
(OOC) Kima says: This last event, such a nail biter.
Marcas stands to tug up his leather britches and lace them. Sword belt, armor. He doesn't have someone to hold up a towel for him and seems to have no qualms of anyone watching him get dressed again. Apparently this northerner doesn't have an issue with modesty. He is too interested in watching the sea and the ships. Shifting his armor side to side to better suit over his frame before slotting his weapons where they should be, tugging on his boots when he sits back down.
While ever the posterchild for composure, Calista Fidante closes her eyes for a moment longer than expected. Perhaps she's saying a quiet prayer or just cursing under her breath. Either way, it's still a very subtle move that breezes away when she returns her attention to Rohkir and Lydia who are making nice. Allowing them to continue their conversation, the young noblewoman glances about the beach to take notice of the other spectators, offering a little bow of her head in Kima's direction, and really anyone else she's missed while chatting and watching the races. She spots Alrec's ship now, not too far from Victus, not too far from Viviana.
(OOC) Calista says: At least it wasn't lower, Talen!
(OOC) Gustave dons speedo, gets ready to save Talen.
(OOC) Talen says: Esera told me I can't have a yacht. It's not my fault I didn't get time to practice.
Rohkir chuckles. "And I deserved it, for many a reason. Was young enough that I was stubborn without much sense." He shifts his eyes to Calista, mistaking her closing her eyes as if to resist saying something, and laughing, "Come now, Lady Calista, I'm not -that- bad now!"
(OOC) Viviana says: Victus at 149, Alrec at 139, Viviana at 138, Acacia at 93, Talen at 71
Talen's in his element at least in the sense of bossing people around when he shouts at this team, the leaky ship slowly making its way inland. It's rather fetching the way he's advancing first of all, the stream of the water cut by the bow of the ship. The closer he gets, however, the lower the ship sinks and steadily, without much understanding by those professional in the crowd, he manages to find a way to sink the vessel in its advance of the shore. By the end, he's basically Captain Jack Sparrow stepping off a sunken ship, the mast half-emerging from the shallows and his crew diving for the sand-riddled shore, for safety.
Kima, having noticed Calista, breaks away from watching the competition to give the noblewoman a wave. "How about that, eh?" She calls over to her, smiling broadly. About that time she spies Marcas, and he gets a shouted greeting as well. "Marcas! Good show today." Sure, he had come in dead last, but the point was he competed at all. Kima would have just let the waves sweep her away to Mangata's bosom. RIP.
Alrec is overheard condemning Talen for: He sunk his ship, nothing more insulting for a captain.
(OOC) Jaenelle says: I think i've just caused a war.
Better attuned now to her people, however temporary, Acacia's own commands are tempered by her parsing through the typical rules of propriety; with significant focus gained for that leg which might have her swiftly catching up in the direction of the other ships so far ahead of her. But the distance between them is vast, and despite a slight showing of confidence, there's encouragement barked through unsuppressable grins when dark eyes skim the waters, scarlet curls in utter chaos behind her until they might coast the rest of the way back to the starting point. The line is eventually crossed, with a cheer once the anchor is dropped and the ropes tether it back into position, suggesting the kegs were finally opened and the opportunity to win favor through their enjoyment is embarked upon instead.
Talen is overheard condemning Alrec for: Look, it wasn't a very good ship, okaY?
(OOC) Alrec :\ Talen...
(OOC) Gustave says: You _are_ Helen...esque.
(OOC) Talen says: <3
(OOC) Alrec says: what are you condeming me for?
(OOC) Gustave says: For being 'That Guy'
(OOC) Alrec says: then say it
(OOC) Talen says: Does it not say? :(
(OOC) Talen says: I did add something!
(OOC) Calista says: He did.
(OOC) Kima says: It does say.
(OOC) Alrec says: it says Look, it wasn't a very good ship, okay?
(OOC) Talen says: Oh, there you go then.
Marcas laughs at Kima, "Aye! Good show watchin' me paddle like a pup!" he smiles brightly, regardless. He stands to his feet. Wiggling a foot inside of a boot to get it settled in just right before he starts to make his way down the stands somewhere closer to Kima. Leaning a little to the blonde haired Knight, ".. I feel like utter arse." he admits to her. Close now she can see his bloodshot eyes.
(OOC) Alrec says: so my prestige is being take out because his ship is bad?
(OOC) Acacia says: Talen's initial emotes spoke that he got conned by a fancy ship that had a leak in it. Alrec's condemnation came at the cost of a reverse condemnation. But they're just condemns! Be happy! Life is okay.
First one Setarco vessel, and then the other slips past Victus' Thraxian ship. He does not look amused. "She's stealing our fucking wind!" He growls, and then roars out orders to counter act the effect. Especially when Viviana takes advantage to make up for the relative failure and steal properly ahead. Everything is frantic for a while, as they readjust, their course shifting just slightly to take more into account the current. A lot of small changes.



They start paying off. Gradually he takes off past Alrec, opening up a greater and greater distance to the Admiral in his wake. This time he doesn't as much look back at the pirate, too focused on Viviana's vessel ahead. Its about winning. Gradually the distance here too is eaten up. He passes her, looking sideways with dark and hard eyes, a measure of satisfaction on his features. By the time they reach the finish line, he's far ahead both of them. Its only as he cruises victoriously in, that he orders the flag of Thrax to be raised. Flapping in the wind above the tallest mast. Only then does he glance back to see if Alrec manages to overtake Vivian again.
Quirin is leaving Arx - Upper Boroughs - Seawatch Gate, heading for Arx - Upper Boroughs - Traders Home.
(OOC) Talen says: Chill. ICA=ICC. If you condemn someone, it's public. You can be condemned back.
(OOC) Talen says: IT's how it works. Feel free to page me for more so we don't spam everyone!
"Growing is something that happens, Prince Rohkir. I'm told there is very little we can do to put a stop to it. And yes, I remember you too, and the Princess smacking you, but truth be told, I always thought it was undeserved. Still, I did learn much from her." There's a wry, amused grin on Lydia's face as she responds, turning her head towards Calista and then beyond to the ships, "Oh dear, is your man falling behind again?"
(OOC) Alrec says: yeah I'm not saying anything ica=icc all I'm trying to understand why Alrec was condemned? Talen was condemn because he sunk his ship which you would expect an Admiral to condemn you for
(OOC) Gustave says: I think he was impolying your condemnation was petty.
(OOC) Gustave says: ICly.
(OOC) Gustave says: Implying*
(OOC) Alrec says: Thank you Gustave
(OOC) Gustave says: So he counter condemned.
(OOC) Calista says: Let's just jump back IC.
(OOC) Alrec says: thats all I was asking. Not sure why everyone got their jimmies rustles
(OOC) Gustave says: Problem solved! Back to IC!
(OOC) Jaenelle says: Please, thank you :)
Viviana's ship pulls briefly into the lead, the dark haired woman seen at the wheel of the ship as it cuts across the waves to try and stop the other vessels overtaking her again. Unfortunately the gambit is mistimed and she loses some of her wind, as Victus soars ahead she brings the ship back around, neck and neck now with Alrec's vessels as the shoot across the finish line together behind the Thraxian.
Rohkir laughs. "Aye, I'm not saying it's a bad thing, Lady Lydia." He pauses, tonguing through that alliteration once more to himself, nonverbally, before following Lydia's eyes, asking offhand to Calista, "Who's your man?"
"Yes, you are, Prince Rohkir." Calista replies, deadpan, but she's teasing him as a well defined brow arches with a touch of mirth spreading across her features. She gives Lydia a little nod now. "Thank the gods for Lady Viviana." The Lycene shall prevail!
Kima cheers for Victus as he takes the lead, no matter that by doing so her skull feels as though it's splitting open and everything she ever was started to come drooling out. Never let it be said Kima is not a good friend! Thankfully, all that girlish silliness is stuffed away by the time Marcas arrived, so his ears don't have to be assaulted. There are other women and small children - and some particularly unlucky men - eager enough to do that for her.



"Aw," she says, slapping him upon his upper arm. "Don't. The water out there isn't friendly. Not like the beautiful sea upon which Southport rests. Clear as crystal when you're in it, but the most gorgeous shades from afar." Now she's waxing poetic about home, how quaint. "And it isn't so terribly frigid, either." Her own red-rimmed eyes squint at Marcas. "But I suppose you like the cold."
Nadia is leaving Arx - Upper Boroughs - Seawatch Gate, heading for Arx - Ward of House Redrain - Nightgold Mansion - Main Hall.
Jaenelle's eyes take a look of horror as she watches Talen...sink a borrowed ship. She lifts a single hand, dipping her head to pinching the bridge of her nose as she counts to some imaginary number silently. Once composed, she lifts her head up and a smile once more touches her lips as she blissfully ignores him, "in third place, Lady Viviana has shown she is quite the capable sailor. In second, no surprise, Admiral Alrec. And once again, in first place, Lord Victus!" She has a table of trophies ready, and personally moves from the wooden stand to deliver them to the winners.
The effort to cut off Victus isn't enough to put him in first place. As a result there is a dreaded silence among the bullsharks of Setarco but the Admiral contains his anger against his crew. He nods to his First Mate and then turns to Viviana's vessel. Viviana gets a salute from the Admiral as she comes by. He then returns to his crew with a sigh, "That was Lord Victus' ship..." Alrec ponders for a moment and then says to his master at arms, "Secure all leave and get everyone together for drills." With that the master at arm leaves the bridge to shout orders at the sailors.
"Which ship is Lady Viviana's?" Lydia is leaning forward again, peering out at the ships and just now trying to catch up on the progress of the race. She looks between Calista and Rohkir questioningly, wiaiting for either one of them to confirm and then the winners are announced and she straightens and applauds with vigor. "Oh! She won! Congratulations!"
Rohkir's eyes practically smile on their own, though the Barbarian Prince's lips don't change overly much. "Lady Calista, so hard on me. I thought we were friends! You'll wound me. I demand much grappa and more Lycene stories as apology, lest I never forget this slight upon my person." He's clearly joking.
A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Rohkir before departing.
Marcas has left the game.
Marcas has entered the game.
Viviana finally comes down the gangplank after her her ship docked. "Good Sailing." She tells Alrec when she sees the man and gives a nod to Victus as well. "Lord Victus, congratulations, that was a very well timed sail cut in the second half." She adds as she makes her way over to where Jaenelle has the trophies.
"Never been." Marcas grunts at Kima, "Maybe I'll go when I need to give word of yar doom for drinkin' with the likes of me." he teases with a chuckle. Foot resting on a bench so he can rest his forearm on his knee. Watching as the ships come pulling in and the winners are announced. "But aye, I prefer the cold. Wouldn't say I like it too much. Bracing... that'd be a better word. On the chill side. It's so bloody hot around these parts, makes me wish I could take the air from up north an' have it at least in me room.".
Calista claps for the winners and is happy to see Viviana is in the top three along with the Pravus captain, Admiral Alrec. Obviously Victus is also cheered for. Her hands hurt from all the clapping. "I should hire someone to clap for me." She teases again. "Yes, Lady Viviana is fantastic. Not to worry Prince Rohkir, there will be lots of Grappa and Rose' to be had. I will have to see if there will be more stories though. I've finished my book."
When Talen has finishes dusting his leather attire off, his attention shifts over toward the judges booth. Spotting Jaenelle's clear distress with his antics, he bows openly, almost painfully respectfully. The dramatic flair is at odds with his usual motions and when he wanders up the beach, he moves into the thick of the crowd and past it, to find himself a goblet of wine. One is parched.
First the sails go half down, then in succession the rest drop down until there's just the last one giving a tiny push against the Thraxian vessel. "Down." That harsh command cutting out through the air while Victus carefully measures the distance between the ship and the pier. They sail in, the current gives a little tug. At the last moment he turns the vessel sideways, and they drift into the spot perfect as a glove. No tow boats for Victus Thrax. Even if the maneuver in lesser hands is a distinct risk to a fine ship.



Not long after he is marching down the plank and leaving the vessel in the hands of its care takers, while he heads back to Jaenelle and the trophies offered up.
Kima, it must also be noted, astutely ignores the ignominy which is Talen Artiglio in this moment. As far as she is concerned, he clearly meant to do just that. More importantly, it's in the past! Time moves on. Nobody remembers losers anyway.



"That would be a novel idea," she remarks to Marcas. "Localized cool air." If it wasn't so dangerously skirting the idea of magic, Kima might have called the man a genius.
Jaenelle drops A golden trophy with a redwood base.
(OOC) Jaenelle says: So im going to have to drop them individually, look in the room and pick it up!
(OOC) Marcas gets a rock for coming in last at swimming.
(OOC) Gustave says: A shiny pebble!
(OOC) Calista says: Very nice!
(OOC) Marcas snickers
Gustave goes over to pick up his sole trophy, but seems content enough. His doctor is beaming, and the slightly damp Blackram tussles her hair. He moves to receive the award, listening quietly for his name and title. "Well, its no Grand Melee, but it will do. But who knew Shepherds could swim?" Its not pride, he's shocked just as much as anyone.
(OOC) Jaenelle says: All Viviana!
There is a pause before Fatima starts to cheer for Victus. Obviously her mind was elsewhere for a few minutes. She also gives Alrec and Viviana a smile and she says to each of them in turn, "Congratulations!"
Jaenelle drops A steel trophy with a redwood base.
There's a clear reason as to why the Captain was paid off, aside from her borrowing, allowing the man to mostly take command, as it were while she busies herself instead with biding her time by getting to know the sailors themselves a little bit more through casual banter. It delays the time it takes for her to return to the shore, but when it comes, it's with a pewter tankard of ale and a rather cheeky smile as she flicks water towards Marcas when she passes him, "You're the best cheering section I've ever had, Captain. Trying to wind your way out of your lost earlier bet?"
Alrec joins Viviana's side and nods, "Likewise Lady Viviana." He then turns to watch Victus and congrats him with a silent nods. The man seems vexed by the lost but he attempts his best to hide it. Alrec's ship doesn't stay long after their captain climbs down from it. Almost as if using the same wind they had in the race, it returns to sea to train. He clears his throat as if to say something to Lord Victus but holds his tongue, "At least we lost to the Thrax." He says instead to Viviana.
Viviana picks up A steel trophy with a redwood base.
Jaenelle drops A steel trophy with a redwood base.
Victus picks up A golden trophy with a redwood base.
Jaenelle drops A golden trophy with a redwood base.
(OOC) Victus says: how do you pick up when they have same name?
(OOC) Victus says: or look at when they have same name?
(OOC) Alrec says: it should give you numbers when you try
(OOC) Jaenelle says: That one is for Gustave
(OOC) Acacia says: 2-trophy, 3-trophy,e tc.
Gustave picks up A golden trophy with a redwood base.
(OOC) Jaenelle says: (the one in the room)
"That's true." Viviana agrees with Alrec, "It would have been quite embarrassing if we lose a sailing race to a Valardin or some such." She decides as she moves over to pick up her steel trophy, letting it hang casually from her hand.
(OOC) Victus says: it does give numbers, but how do you use the numbers?
(OOC) Viviana says: 1-trophy
(OOC) Alrec says: 1-item
(OOC) Alrec says: thats their new name
Jaenelle drops A steel trophy with a redwood base.
(OOC) Acacia says: get 1-item, get 2-item
(OOC) Victus says: Ah, ok
(OOC) Jaenelle says: (Alrec's trophy in room!)
Calista glances over to Rohkir and Lydia once more and dips to curtsey. "If you'll excuse me a moment, Your Highness, My Lady. I need to speak to a man about a boat." That mischievous grin is never far from her lips as she slips away and heads towards Talen. "Master Artiglio. That was....something." The noblewoman bites down onto her lower lip, glancing up at the Sword of Lenosia through a veil of thick dark lashes.
Alrec picks up A steel trophy with a redwood base.
Rohkir shifts his attention back to Lydia. "Lady Lydia, we've hardly spoken in all the years I dipped back in to see my aunt. Admittedly, even that was only once a year at best. We should sit down some time. Perhaps arrange something with Lady Calista here and all of us will share a drink." He waves a hand, "Or even just visit the Augury. I can still remember how furious my aunt was with me, catching me in there occasionally for a quick soak." He tilts his head back, thinking on better times perhaps. "Either way is up to you. Or both, even. I hardly get the chance to interact with other northern nobility that aren't my family."
Fatima has left the game.
Jaenelle picks up A steel trophy with a redwood base.
Marcas chuckles at Kima, flinching a little from the water sprayed at him by Acacia. "Well, everyone does say they like the sound of me voice. However, if I was gonna kiss your arse to get out of a wager I'd like it to be more literal." he teases her. "So... I owe ye a drink? Turkey leg? You ride on me shoulders?". Gesturing to the water, "Ye did a fine job. I think I'd trust ye to not overturn any vessel I was on. Makes the proposition of bein' the cabin boy a bit more promisin'.".
Victus accepts both the trophies when they're given. Though he holds them, one in each hand, like he isn't all that certain what he's supposed to be doing with them. In the end he rolls a shrug with one of his broad shoulders, and then offers them to a guardsman who accepts the loot and carries them off. To Jaenelle he says dryly: "I suppose I won the only two events it would have truly burned me to lose." Though at the same time, there is perhaps the sense that he wouldn't have minded winning the swimming as well. Fatima's cheering is met with a quietly blown out snort.
Talen has been occupied for a time, draining steadily that glass of deep, red wine he's procured from the servants. Such largesse paid in a grand capacity grants him quite the vintage, after all. When Calista approaches he bows, quickly finding his humility following the event so he can afford the noblewoman his politely mannered attention. "My lady, hello. Yes, it was, wasn't it? Don't ever ask me to escort you to Setarco, if you would? I might--," he looks to his ship, sunk as it is, "not be quite what you expect in a captain."
"I don't think you'd fit in a cabin, Marcas," Kima says, rather dryly.


As all the trophies are distributed, Jaenelle gives a nod of approval and seems to relax. She lifts her voice and informs the crowd, "Ladies and gentlemen, that concludes the events for the first day of the Golden Decathlon. I do hope you all enjoyed yourselves. Thank you." She dips her head slightly towards everyone gathered in accordance with her words.


Lydia dips her head to Calista as the woman heads off. "Of course. It was a pleasure, my lady. I look forward to that visit." Then her attention turns to Rohkir and her face brightens, "I would look forward very much to spending more time with my own countrymen. If you have time...maybe you would be willing to walk me back to my sister's home? I'm so afraid that I'll get turned around and lose my way!"
"Thank you for hosting the events Princess." Viviana says, putting her trophy under her arm for long enough to give a polite round of applause for Jaenelle.
"How about you let me tuck it into a wet pocket to sit for a bit, and then we'll figure it out from there? Otherwise, I imagine you owe me lovely stories of crows and tiny flowers." The slap of Acacia's hand greets the damp leather of her pants when her elbow knocks against Marcas' own with familiarity and a grin to match it. "Honestly, I thought I'd be throwing turkey legs at you all day." Following his gaze towards the water, she falls silent for half a beat, before an easier grin splits her lips, "Next time I end up with the chance, you can join me aboard. Just remind me to get you something to hold onto, lest you sink in the process."

Stopping to turn towards Jaenelle, she brings her hands together for applause for those who won, mentioning aside towards Marcas, "We'll run into each other tomorrow, I imagine?"
"Oh, of course Lady Lydia. I can show you back. I remember, I spent my first two weeks back in the city just wandering about aimlessly." Rohkir leans down, whispering not so conspiratorially, "Which is a great excuse if you want to show up late to places." He straightens and nods seriously, saying, "I got lost." Then, as if that explained it, he offers his arm aside to the strawberry blond. "Were you wanting to head to the Nightgold estate now, Lady Lydia?"