Jaenelle arrives.
Niccolo arrives to the tournament grounds with his usual retinue of guards. Once there, he gestures for the guards to go relax. The duke continues on, looking for anything that might seem like a place to sign up for events. The man walks with his hands clasped behind his back, his features pensive.
Freja arrives.
Jaenelle did her judging and hosting duties for the Decathalon, so it seems she is here to watch those who wish to participate. She moves towards the benches, sitting as close to the action as possible.
The Sword of Lenosia is without such a weapon today-- in fact, he's not even armoured. Dressed down in muted grey-black leathers, the Lycene male meanders down the tiered strip into the field of the grounds. At his side, a young Velenosa aid attends him and bears a satchel. Wordlessly the man invites himselfs into the benches by the tournament grounds, looking to find a bench.
Jaenelle has joined the General Seating.
As people drift in and find there seats servers move amongst them distributing wine and small pastries. There comes the blast of trumpets in a loud fanfare that quiets the tournament grounds before Viviana stands up from her spot in the judge's booth. "Welcome Lords, Ladies and common people alike to the second day of the Twelfth Golden Decathlon. Unfortunately Princess Valencia Redrain can not be with us tonight, so I will be hosting this event." She explains, "We start the day with finding out who is the fastest man or woman in Arvum. Our competitors noble and common alike will race to see who can make it from one end of the tournament grounds to the others in the least amount of time. Competitors, can you make your way down to the starting point?"
Freja enters sans scouting leathers for once, her attire lighter. The Redrain woman fusses with her hair, trying to get it back from her face in a braid but her curls will not cooperate. She has some small victory, albeit a messy one. As she comes to stand at the edge of the edge of the field, sharp eyes looking about to size up any other would be competitors.
Freja has joined the Field.
Viviana has joined the Judges Booth.
Talen has joined the Judges Booth.
Talen has left the Judges Booth.
Talen has joined the Field.
(OOC) Talen says: I just wanted to feel special
(OOC) Jaenelle says: As you should, Talen.
Victus has joined the Field.
(OOC) Freja says: *edge of...singular, not the edge of the edge of the field 8(
Victus scratches at his bearded cheek where he's been standing at the edge of the tournament field. A couple of Thraxians lurk nearby, one with a water skin and one carrying his sword. He himself wears just a plain sleeveless tunic, brown, and some loose sailor's trousers meant for easy movement. On his feet he's got some sandals, his toes wriggling bare. When Viviana makes her announcement, he reaches back and around to the nape of his neck, pulling his tunic off by the collar in a single smooth motion. He kicks off his sandals, to, and so barefoot and barechested he heads towards the starting line of the sprint. His hair is gathered the back of his head with a leather strap, out of the way.



Relaxed, at ease, he bends this way and that to loosen up his muscles, all the while bluntly looking over his competiton. Freja among them.
Alrec arrives.
(OOC) Alrec says: very sorry, bad thunderstorm here.
(OOC) Viviana says: np
Freja keeps her eyes forward, though there is a slight arch of her scarred brow when she feels Alrec's gaze on her.
When Talen drifts from the bench to the field as soon as Viviana calls for the would-be competitors to do so. Upon spotting Freja doing likewise, he casts a glance in her direction and then bows deeply for the Redrain princess. "Your highness, you're to grace us with your presence, then? Interesting," he emits, the last in mock mystery tone.
Late to the tournament are the bullsharks of Setarco, surrounding their captain, Admiral Alrec who is wearing nothing but a pair of boxing shorts. The crew disperse and join the crowd as Alrec walks over to Viviana and with a respectful nod, he says, "Alrec Magaldi."
"On your marks." Viviana tells the racers, "Get set..." Then she drops a red coloured scrap of silk. "Race!"



(@check dexterity+athletics)
Jaenelle spots almost all of her favorite people, so it is quite difficult to pick and choose who she wishes to cheer for. Istead, she just says in a single breath, "Go NiccoloTalenVictusFrejaAlrec!"
"I like to run. It is no mystery. I am curious to see how I fare in the oppressive, Southern heat. I wonder if it is all bark." Freja comments aside to Talen, giving him a polite nod as he greets her. "Best of luck."
(OOC) Niccolo is going to have to bow out of the competition, please assume I'm watching from the sidelines.
A trio of digits touch the sand, Talen's fore- and middle-finger stabilised at last by his thumb. Pinching the ground, his knees are bent and his calves are taut against his leathers. When the metaphorical gun fires, he kicks up a spurt of dust and is rushing in sharp, narrow motions up the lane toward the end. With Freja keeping pace and his earlier comment, his gray eyes cut to the side from time to time, keeping tabs on his competition. For the most part, however, he outpaces her with long, strong strides.
Victus' start is foiled when he puts too much force into it, and the ground gives rather than helps propell him forward. Dirt kicked back, his knee slams into the ground, and in that moment he loses those vital first seconds that determine any kind of sprint. He barely puts any effort into it after that, all but strolling in dead last with a scowl on his face.
Joins the line after signing up and races, before the alarm is sound he gives every individual a nod before dashing across. Even with the Redrain princess flying pass him, Alrec seems comfortable with his position in second place and keeps this pace in order to save his energy for the other events. He doesn't even notice passing Victus or that he was even part of the competition, his mind seems preoccupied. Still, he makes a good effort.
The tall, Northern princess sinks low in posture, her willowy frame poised for the starting indication to go. When it falls, she is off like a shot and not far behind Talen as he takes the lead. Freja wears only an oversized cotton tunic, belted at the waist with a strip of leather. It almost looks like something she borrowed from one of her oversized cousins or brother. When she crosses the finish, she laughs brightly and jovially, her rare and heartbreaking smile gracing her face.
Calista arrives just after the games have started and makes her way towards the stands to find a seat among the familiar, cheering faces. It appears the foot race is underway and the athletes are off! Once Calista finds a place to call temporary home, she keeps her keen eyes on the racers.
Calista has joined the General Seating.
Viviana watches the races sprint across the distance, Talen coming in first just ahead of Freja, Alrec a body length behind her and Victus even further back. "And the winner is Talen!" She announces, "With Princess Freja Redrain a close second." She leads the crowd in a small round of applause before gesturing to a small table with the trophies on it. "Come collect your trophies and wave to the crowds." She encourages the winner and second place racers.
Freja takes the trophy with a narrowed, curious glance. "Well..this is something.." she murmurs, turning it upside down and this way and that, holding it up against the light as she chews on the inside of her cheek. She even taps the side of it with her nail. "Thank you!" she remembers herself mid-inspection.
"Ty," Talen calls across to the sidelines, having his aid go and fetch said trophy while he cools down, grabs a waterskin and pours some into his mouth. With a few heavy breaths he then idly wanders in a circle to keep his muscles primed from the sudden exertion.

The young shaggy-haired Velenosan young man who gets Talen's trophy bows extensively, well-taught, then retreats to place the first gold trophy won nearby his station.
Victus' harsh features betray his unhappiness with his performance. He pads towards his Thraxian compatriots, accepting and then putting his tunic back on. AFterwards he takes a quick swallow from the water skin, and sloshes a bit over the top of his head for good measure. While Freja and Talen have their moment in the limelight, he folds his arms over his chest, and broodingly awaits the next competition. Once or twice the men around him try to engage him with some soldier's banter and rough commentary, but he ignores them.
Freja returns to the stands, taking a seat to cross her legs at the knee with the right foot bouncing. It seems she truly was only interested in running.
Acacia arrives.
A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Acacia before departing.
Freja has left the Field.
(OOC) Gustave returns!
Freja has joined the General Seating.
Alrec sighs, content with his place. He didn't feel like running was his thing but for the sake of Gloria he was competing. He shows this by moving aside to join his crew and getting ready for the other event. Alrec gives Victus a stare from his seat, his facial expression lacking the usual playful mock he usually gives the man.
(OOC) Gustave says: Just in time for discus I hope?
"Next up we have the ultimate display of strength and balance." Viviana announces, "The discus event where our competitors will attempt to outdo each other to show who can sent the weighed discus further. Would those wanting to take part please head down to the marked area and choose a disc? Remember if you step over the line when you throw it will not count."
Rohkir arrives.
"My Lord," Talen greets to Victus plainly as he walks past the large Thraxian, "I hear that if you stare at one fixed point when you spin you are less dizzy for it. It it also a great point of reference to throw the item in that direction. May your aim be true." Advice given, the Sword of Lenosia steps onto one of the paving stones.
Jaenelle beams at the Freja, Talen, and Alrec, "remind me never to take any of you hunting, where I will need to run to get away from something trying to eat me!" She looks towards Victus, grinning then at him, "you, i'll take."
Rohkir has joined the General Seating.
Paying little attention to his surroundings, Victus ignores the look Alrec gives him same as he ignores the crowds. With a grunt, he cranes his neck in a slow stretch, rubbing the back of it with meaty fingers. Then he is back towards the field, leaving his men and the water skin behind to once more join in the competition. At Talen's advise, he blows out a quiet grumbling sound, but doesn't reply. He starts preparing himself for the throwing.
Gustave seems to showup conveniently as the mention of heavy lifting and throwing things occurs. Gustave heads down to join the other competititors, swinging his great arms and looking over at Victus and Talen. It seems his company is consistent at least. Fortunately for Talen Sigrun is currently busy elsewhere so parent-child displays of affection will not offset his game. He stretches a bit, hefting one of the stones experimentally before setting it down again.
Acacia has joined the General Seating.
Alrec shakes his head with a chuckle at the exchange between Talen and Victus, joining them at the stones to throw the discus. He measures the disk's weight and secure his standing before assuming a position to throw the disk.
Rohkir wanders over toward the general seating, finding an open spot to ease down.
"Whenever you're ready you can let fly champions." Viviana announces, "One at a time though."



(@check strength+athletics)
(OOC) Gustave says: No difficulty?
(OOC) Talen says: Assume 15.
(OOC) Gustave says: So 15 is default?
(OOC) Talen says: Rolling without a diff gives you 15.
Acacia had barely stepped through the entrance, before she'd stopped to receive the messenger, stepping aside to return the reply before she'd slipped deeper into the stands themselves. Rubbing the heel of her hand across her eye, there's an accusing glare fit towards the sun itself, before a flask is fished out from the inside of her cloak to temper the mood. "They're pretty, your Highness," she asserts towards Freja, slipping into a place a couple rows behind with the crossing of her legs. "I believe at Princess Alarissa's masquerade that there were... necklaces as rewards?"
(OOC) Gustave says: Damn, Vitus a beast!
(OOC) Gustave says: Victus*
Talen bows to select a disc, a medium sized hunk of metal that he considers carefully before he moves across back to his marked area. When he spins, he does so for too long it seems. When the item is let go it flings true but not quite as far as some of the prfectly timed momentum from others-- or those with just pure, brute strength. Built rangily, the Sword's core strength seems far more spread out than just brutish arms. Still, he seems satisfied by his showing and nods once -- curtly. "That'll do."
Victus turns the discus around in his hand, settling it until he finds that perfect fit. He swings his arm back and forth, working up a rhythm, then adding his torso to it. Finally he starts to spin around properly, once, twice, three times before his powerful frame unleashes the pent up energy and tension with a loud roar. The discus flies out in a whirrl, far and far and far away. When it finally lands with a thump in the dirt, he gives Talen a sideways look from where he stands. Laconic, he grates out: "Thanks for the lesson."
Niccolo has joined the General Seating.
Alrec frowns at the disc, finding the whole affair awkward. Though after some time and when he is told to do so, he flings the disk with a spin, watching it fly. Content for the moment until the others start throwing their disks. A frown form on his face but the Admiral accepts what he got, shrugging as he returns to his place. This time, Victus got a nod and under handed message when passing the lord, "About time."
Talen pounds a single hand into his chest, an imitation of a military salute to Victus. Still, he seems far more focused on watching the last few throws.
Gustave is a bit slow in his throw, and is noticeably impressed by Victus's throw. That, and a misplanted foot causes a miscalculation and he loses sight of the point he was aiming at, lobbing a fairly respectable distance all the same. A grunt and a slide of arm across brow as he nods in recognition of the Lord Thrax's throw, as well as the other competitors. Thick neck rolling as he jumps in place once, twice. Trying to keep from going completely cold in preperation for the marathon.
Having decided not to participate at the last moment, Niccolo found a place to sit down at the general seating area. From there, a few dips of the head were offered to familiar faces. The man's eyes are mostly on the event taking place, watching with interest and with the occassional side glance to the others at the stands.
Viviana lifts her hand to shield her eyes as she watch the arc of the discus as they fly down the length of the tournament ground. "It looks like Lord Victus Thrax is the winner today, with Marquis Gustave Blackram coming in second. Let us all give them a round of applause as they come to collect their trophies." She suggests, waving down to the small table before the judge's booth with the trophies on it as she applauds the competitors.
"Thought you hillfolk'd be better at throwing rocks than that," Victus says Gustave, and if his delivery is gruff and straight, then a bit of humor lives in his dark eyes. He glances in the direction of the crowds once, but otherwise doesn't pander to them as he heads for the judge's booth to get his trophy and the recognition of victory. A grunt and a nod takes the place of thank yous to Viviana, and he doesn't hold onto the trophy very long. Its passed off to his nearest Thraxian guardsman as soon as he can.
Talen flexes his arms as though he's attempting from letting the ache set in. The man exhales as he watches the trophies be collected and then he looks in the direction of his own for a brief second before looking toward the judge's stand. "How angry, on a scale of one to ten, do you think the Lady Viviana would be if I melted it down and gave it to my family princesses to make use of? I'm not leaving good gold on my shelves to collect dust." This, said to the nearest person-- Alrec, apparently.
Gustave shrugs. "Some days you just don't feel like burying people under the mountain." The trophy is taken in good order, turning his head and chuckling slightly. "I thought a Thraxian would be a better swimmer, but...." His hand wobbles, as if to say win some, lose some. Though that too is couched in good, gruff humor. "I'd keep it. Something you can show the kids one day."
Calista is still here. She's just watching with rapt attention!
Alrec chuckles, "I don't think she would expect anything less." And then cocks his head to Talen with a look, "They're not feeding you well enough that you have to melt it?" There was a little jest in his word made evident with the smirk on his face.
"Are you insinuating something, admiral? I could drink wine out of it, I do suppose. But no, I simply just don't want it sitting around the room," he insists, "it will interrupt the collection of weaponry."
sayeth Talen. ^
Jaenelle slips from the benches, making her way towards the railing separating the grounds from the viewers. "Admiral Alrec, a word please, before the next event!" She grins at Talen as she pulls aside his opponent.
"Eh. Unlike the fucking Lenosians," Victus drawls to Gustave, though he glances at Talen while he speaks. "We try to avoid sinking our ships. Ain't all that important, then is it?" He blows out a quiet snort, which becomes a coughing, rasping, harsh chuckle from deep in his broad chest. "Fuck. I'd like a glass of wine while watching the damn wrestling, but there's the marathon after."
Alrec laughs and nods, "I mean, that would be a waste of a good Sword. Now drinking from it..." He ponders for a moment and chuckle, "I honestly thought it was a cup to drink from until you mentioned it was a trophy." Jaenelle calls to him and Alrec excuses himself from his conversation with Talen to walk over to her, "Your highness, you beckon and I come. What can I do for you?"
Viviana waits for the applause to die down before speaking again. "Well done, and now we have something for the bloodthirty among you, a contest of strength, skill, courage and endurance, the wrestling finals. Fighting out of Setarco, and defeating Lord Victus Thrax to make his way into these finals is Alrec Magaldi." She says, gesturing to the pirate before waving to the other side of the field. "His opponent, fighting out of Velenosa and defeating Sir Silas Mercier to find himself here today is Talen Artiglio!" She announces, waiting as the two men head into the middle of the tournament grounds. "The rules are simple, no weapons, no armor, no gouging or biting. Victor is by incapacitation or submission, gentlemen, are you ready?"
A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Acacia before departing.
Victus has left the Field.
Victus has joined the General Seating.
(OOC) Alrec says: is silk considered armor?
(OOC) Alrec says: I don't want to have to take my pants off agian
(OOC) Viviana says: No.
(OOC) Alrec says: ok, cool thanks.
(OOC) Victus says: IF you're not naked, you're not doing it right.
(OOC) Alrec says: I know Victus but only Thraxs understand that
(OOC) Freja has to bolt now, time to drive home. Thanks everyone!
Victus leaves the tournament field for the wrestling, joining the general benches for the duration of the event.
(OOC) Calista says: Safe travels!
Talen raises one arm, two fingers spread in a moment of delay for the judge. Ty, or so he was called, runs over. A strip of leather is taken from the satchel and Talen winds it around his left hand. His right, adorned by a ruby ring, remains uncovered. "Alright," he emits, moving further onto the field after a polite bow is given to Jaenelle and her companion-- his opponent. "I am ready when the admiral is," he calls to the nearest officiate, Viviana herself if that makes at all any sense.
Acacia has left the General Seating.
Acacia has left the game.
"Point. Though if you have a glass I'll have one. Keep things fair." He doesn't participate in the wrestling though, apparently saving bare hands for pointing out orders and planting. He too moves into the stands, though he remains stretching lightly and rolling his neck. "Time to watch grown men grabat each other, then."
Freja has left the General Seating.
Freja has left the game.
Niccolo has left the General Seating.
Niccolo has left the game.
Jaenelle smiles and slips a ribbon into Alrec's hand, "Admiral, I am aware that you will be going up against our Sword. As such, I wished to give you this token of favor. Keep it and do your best to best him." She winks over at Talen as she takes her seat once more to continue the converstations she started before leaping up.
Calista a sly, knowing smile creeps upon Calista's face as she watches Talen place his strip of leather and of course, that ruby ring on his right hand. She might have even winked at him or maybe there was something in her eyes. Who can be sure?
Niccolo has entered the game.
Alrec flashes her a smirk and as he is given the ribbon, he ties it around his bicep. "Thank you. I won't dissapoint." The Admiral walks over to Talen at the field and then says out-loud, "They better be betting silver. I put 4000 silvers on this match in my favor." Already warmed up with the prior events, Alrec just takes his stance, a combination of moves from Southport and a little bit of that Thrax dirty fighting. There is a nod given to Talen, a man he has already met in combat. "Lets make this quick." And he initiates the fight by moving forward into the ring.
Niccolo has joined the General Seating.
Viviana is overheard praising Jaenelle for: She adorns a champion with a token of her favor like a true high born lady.
"Fight!" Viviana calls out from her place in the judge's booth.
Acacia has entered the game.
Acacia has joined the General Seating.
There's a rhythmic turn of the ring upon Talen's hand, thumb twist and turning it around and around, again and again. While he waits for Alrec, the Sword's gaze is set upon his opponent with an unbreaking focus. With his chin held high, spine straight, he has an almost stately posture.
Talen rolls 13 to attack, Alrec rolls 25 to defend.
Talen rolled 14 damage against Alrec's 5 mitigation.
Alrec rolls 25 to attack, Talen rolls 29 to defend.
Alrec rolled 8 damage against Talen's 0 mitigation.
Talen rolls 21 to attack, Alrec rolls 21 to defend.
Talen rolled 14 damage against Alrec's 11 mitigation.
Alrec rolls 22 to attack, Talen rolls 6 to defend.
Alrec rolled 7 damage against Talen's 8 mitigation.
The scuffle begins with a rather unobstrusive amount of violence, Talen's approach a steady jog that never so much as dares burst into a run. Keeping faith with his pace, when he meets Alrec, it's in a guided skid before he grapples-- closequarters combat, rough movements seeking an advantage rather than outright punches.
Alrec approaches Talen and chuckles, "Nice ring." He says before testing his defenses by punching him on the side of one of his ribcages, opening his defense for an attack from Talen which connects forcing him to pull back and switch sides. Still, now his opponent is aware and Alrec has a hard time landing a hit on Talen while caught in a grapple but the Admiral takes the punch, favoring the close proximity.
Talen rolls 21 to attack, Alrec rolls 26 to defend.
Talen rolled 11 damage against Alrec's 15 mitigation.
Alrec rolls 29 to attack, Talen rolls 16 to defend.
Alrec rolled 18 damage against Talen's 12 mitigation.
Talen rolls 6 to attack, Alrec rolls 36 to defend.
Alrec rolls 25 to attack, Talen rolls 26 to defend.
Alrec rolled 12 damage against Talen's 1 mitigation.
"I promise to give you a closer inspection of it shortly," Talen imparts, receiving the few clips of a punch which forces the Sword to back off, breaking his grapple. Keeping it quick doesn't seem to be on the cards, the pad of his thumb slung across the corner of his mouth as he wipes away where his lip is split.
Nadia arrives.
Alrec laughs out loud as he begins to toy with the man's punches, slapping them out of the way before hitting him in the stomach while caught in the grapple, when Talen lets go of him, Alrec steps back and smirks, "How about you give me that ring when I win?" He says to the man and moves forward towards him.
Talen rolls 7 to attack, Alrec rolls 27 to defend.
Alrec rolls 19 to attack, Talen rolls 20 to defend.
Alrec rolled 21 damage against Talen's 5 mitigation.
Talen rolls 26 to attack, Alrec rolls 17 to defend.
Talen rolled 14 damage against Alrec's 7 mitigation.
Alrec rolls 21 to attack, Talen rolls 11 to defend.
Alrec rolled 6 damage against Talen's 15 mitigation.
"Unfortunately that would be an impossibility, admiral. I shall, however, give you something equally dark and red," Talen ensures, "to take with you, so you'll always have a way to look back and remember me." The phrasing is like one would be reading from a book, intoned in paraphrased recital. A sharp, jerky kick hits Alrec's boot and he leaps away, just in time to only be grazed on the leather tunic.
Victus looks towards Gustave from the benches as his hand has become filled with a glass of wine. Its lifted to the Marquis briefly, before he sets it to his lips and starts a slow swallow. What harm could a single glass do, right? Then his attentions return to the fight between Alrec and Talen.
Alrec snickers as he punches Talen hard against his head with a sideways hook. He takes the punch talen gives him and then the fancy words. With a laugh, Alrec says, "Fair enough."
Alrec rolls 16 to attack, Talen rolls 30 to defend.
Alrec rolled 6 damage against Talen's 3 mitigation.
Talen rolls 5 to attack, Alrec rolls 27 to defend.
Talen rolls 17 to attack, Alrec rolls 21 to defend.
Talen rolled 6 damage against Alrec's 2 mitigation.
Alrec rolls 20 to attack, Talen rolls 33 to defend.
Alrec rolled 10 damage against Talen's 2 mitigation.
Talen rolls 6 to attack, Alrec rolls 32 to defend.
Alrec rolls 27 to attack, Talen rolls 32 to defend.
Alrec rolled 19 damage against Talen's 8 mitigation.
Drunk runs. Clearly this is an awesome idea. Gustave sips slowly as he watches the bout. Largely silent, focused. As if willing any alcohol he consumes to be burned out through sheer stubbornness. Swig, swallow, repeat, neck rolled back and forth as he drains the cup.
Nadia has joined the General Seating.
Talen is certainly coming off worse for wear in the bout and he personally puts it down to talking smack. As a result, he sobers and puts up his arms, moving on the defensive for a short while. Each punch he blocks with is replied to with a burst of air outward, a sound of exhale and subsequent deep intake, fueling his blood with much needed oxygen.
Hammar arrives.
(OOC) Gustave says: Whelp, Hammar's here. Game over!
(OOC) Hammar says: Hammar
Calista covers her mouth to keep from laughing at something Talen tells Alrec while they exchange commentaries between blows. Her cheeks are touched by a hint of blush before she looks back to the company she keeps on the benches.
A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Acacia before departing.
Hammar has joined the General Seating.
(OOC) Gustave says: ....POkemon?
(OOC) Gustave says: Quick Calista, catch him!
Alrec latches on to Talen, bringing a closed punch against the man's shoulders. His playfulness vanishes as the man switches his feet for a more fluid discipline. He nods to the man, "You're a curious one, Master Talen." And with that the Admiral continues to make contact, dodging and weaving Talen's attacks.
Freja has entered the game.
Talen rolls 7 to attack, Alrec rolls 26 to defend.
Alrec rolls 30 to attack, Talen rolls 30 to defend.
Alrec rolled 13 damage against Talen's 9 mitigation.
Talen rolls 15 to attack, Alrec rolls 17 to defend.
Talen rolled 20 damage against Alrec's 6 mitigation.
Alrec rolls 18 to attack, Talen rolls 21 to defend.
Alrec rolled 26 damage against Talen's 13 mitigation.
Talen rolls 7 to attack, Alrec rolls 45 to defend.
Alrec rolls 28 to attack, Talen rolls 24 to defend.
Alrec rolled 16 damage against Talen's 9 mitigation.
Nadia has left the General Seating.
Nadia has left the game.
Nadia has entered the game.
Nadia has joined the General Seating.
Freja has joined the Quiet Booth.
Talen does manage to land a good hit, sharp and true into Alrec's rib, but he continued assault has him locked into a defensive cage of flexed, raised arms that guard his head. The thud of collisions is like a stacatto drumming that gets quicker and closer together as the energy builds and Alrec finds his openings and Talen's weaknesses. No reply comes to Alrec's comment but a hint of pale grey-blue come up, from under hooded lashes, as he suddenly switches gear into a suddenly aggressive amount of power-- clearly finding his defense is insurmountably useless.
Another messenger is received by Acacia, carefully unsealed and scanned over. Borrowing the temporary writing parsel, she unfurls it to the side, scripting a succinct reply and then placing it back into their hands for it to be sent off with the additional coin involved. Reclaiming her flask, she watches the bout play out between Alrec and Talen with a distracted sort of attention, drinking liberally, and otherwise quietly conversing.
Alrec is taken back by Talen's hard punch so he pushes back and watches the man for a moment, raising his hands to mimick Talen's own move, almost as if he was the man's reflection. He continues to land soft blows here and there, hoping to keep Talen in check.
Talen rolls 19 to attack, Alrec rolls 17 to defend.
Talen rolled 18 damage against Alrec's 10 mitigation.
Alrec rolls 18 to attack, Talen rolls 18 to defend.
Alrec rolled 12 damage against Talen's 8 mitigation.
Talen rolls 14 to attack, Alrec rolls 24 to defend.
Talen rolled 38 damage against Alrec's 7 mitigation.
Alrec rolls 24 to attack, Talen rolls 7 to defend.
Alrec rolled 10 damage against Talen's 0 mitigation.
Talen rolls 27 to attack, Alrec rolls 22 to defend.
Talen rolled 7 damage against Alrec's 1 mitigation.
Alrec rolls 26 to attack, Talen rolls 9 to defend.
Alrec rolled 19 damage against Talen's 1 mitigation.
Bloodthirsty onlookers will get their money's worth now, as Tale nand Alrec begin to meet and greet another with haymakers and undercut blows. When Talen is sunk halfway with a sudden, violent force to his torso, he gasps for air and a small amount of blood from his earlier split lip is expelled, a short sudden spit that might just dirty his opponent's shoes. A hand goes into the sand, holding him upright, denying him the ability to fall. The Sword's fingers curl, the sudden shape the sand takes under his grip one of stress-relieving solidity.
Despite the show of blood and glory on the field, Calista doesn't wince or make any sort of motion other than slowly glide her index finger against her fuller, lower lip. Without so much as peeling her eyes from the field, she offers Acacia a slow, sensual grin. "I do like the way you think."
"Should've made a bet on the fucker," Victus grates out to nobody in particular as the haymakers start to land, and Alrec keeps coming out distinctly ahead. The last of the wine is thrown back in a single quick swallow. He starts asking for a second one, then catches himself and waves away the server with a brusque gesture a moment after. He doesn't really engage much with the conversation at the seatings, occupied with the fight in front of him. Though Hammar's arrival draws a brief look, and especially all that armor.
Alrec becomes Talen's reflection, moving only when the man moves. He meets every hit with the same intensity until the last when he violently punches Talen in the gut, forcing him to fall back. Alrec steps back to allow the man to stand up but when he does, he quickly rejoins the fight, "This is lasting too long and my drink is getting warm."
Alrec rolls 11 to attack, Talen rolls 1 to defend.
Alrec rolled 3 damage against Talen's 4 mitigation.
Talen rolls 34 to attack, Alrec rolls -3 to defend.
Talen rolled 8 damage against Alrec's 0 mitigation.
Talen rolls 14 to attack, Alrec rolls 3 to defend.
Talen rolled 24 damage against Alrec's 6 mitigation.
Alrec rolls 19 to attack, Talen rolls 27 to defend.
Alrec rolled 19 damage against Talen's 10 mitigation.
Alrec rolls 20 to attack, Talen rolls 6 to defend.
Alrec rolled 25 damage against Talen's 6 mitigation.
Talen rolls 7 to attack, Alrec rolls 6 to defend.
Talen rolled 29 damage against Alrec's 6 mitigation.
An arc of sand comes next, the handful of granules catching Alrec in the face. It's a beige storm of horrid granules that promptly catch the man in the face before he's up, diving forward and wailing in heavy attacks that not only bring blood, but coat the ruby rose of Talen's ring in the fluid. In turn, he's punished, his already bruised sides looking even worse for wear. A heavy, animalistic grunt is given and Talen has to back off at one point, if only sway for a second before jumping back into the fro.
(OOC) Talen repeats himself twice in the sentence but OKAY
(OOC) Talen says: Stop staring at me guys I'm blushing and can't do it
(OOC) Talen says: Can we try again in 30 minutes?
Freja has left the Quiet Booth.
Freja has left the game.
Freja has entered the game.
(OOC) Jaenelle calls in the fluffer?
Alrec snarls at the man as sand is thrown in his eyes. The Admiral steps back to clean his face, his nose broken from the ring. "You're fucking meat boy." And the towering Thrax in Setarco pants charges towards him.
Alrec rolls 17 to attack, Talen rolls -14 to defend.
Alrec rolled 12 damage against Talen's 0 mitigation.
Talen rolls 25 to attack, Alrec rolls 1 to defend.
Talen rolled 6 damage against Alrec's 3 mitigation.
Alrec rolls 19 to attack, Talen rolls -4 to defend.
Alrec rolled 6 damage against Talen's 0 mitigation.
Talen rolls 11 to attack, Alrec rolls -12 to defend.
Talen rolled 10 damage against Alrec's 3 mitigation.
Talen rolls 18 to attack, Alrec rolls 6 to defend.
Talen rolled 7 damage against Alrec's 2 mitigation.
Alrec rolls 16 to attack, Talen rolls -16 to defend.
Alrec rolled 21 damage against Talen's 0 mitigation.
Talen is most definitely meat-- it can be heard, the way the sickening crunch of some of Alrec's punches catch the Sword in the side and a gasp for air signals there's a shunt of rib, displacing it. The dark leathers of the man cling tightly, wrapping the wound in its embrace, meaning that he can push through the pain to continue despite his injury. Side-steps left and right are half-hearted, now; laboured by the fatigue, the building stiffness of swollen limbs.
Alrec doesn't let out, casting punches that fall on Talen with a berzerker like rage. Every punch like wave after wave. "Don't you dare call it. This fight ends when you're on the ground." The Admiral stays tightly against Talen, focusing his attacks on the man's chest.
Talen rolls 9 to attack, Alrec rolls -13 to defend.
Talen rolled 5 damage against Alrec's 6 mitigation.
Alrec rolls 16 to attack, Talen rolls -32 to defend.
Alrec rolled 19 damage against Talen's 0 mitigation.
Talen rolls 9 to attack, Alrec rolls -16 to defend.
Talen rolled 5 damage against Alrec's 0 mitigation.
Alrec rolls 10 to attack, Talen rolls -28 to defend.
Alrec rolled 21 damage against Talen's 0 mitigation.
Talen rolls 16 to attack, Alrec rolls -9 to defend.
Talen rolled 5 damage against Alrec's 1 mitigation.
Alrec rolls 8 to attack, Talen rolls -30 to defend.
Alrec rolled 29 damage against Talen's 0 mitigation.
Talen falls unconscious.
Gareth arrives.
There's not the slightest inkling of concern which Acacia reveals upon her features at each disturbing sound of Alrec's blows landing against Talen's flesh. Her gaze attunes towards the field at the twin vicious blows imparted, another drink readily taken, before she looks back towards Hammar and her smile gradually grows again.
Gareth is leaving Arx - Ward of the Compact - Tournament Grounds, heading for Arx - Ward of the Compact - Honor Place.
Freja has left the game.
Freja has entered the game.
(OOC) Freja says: Okay! Back now. *coughs* Freja was always here
A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Acacia before departing.
It seems Alrec's wishes are taken with due seriousness because the Sword's frame is riddled with punches that are brutally landed and leave the man in a heap, clutching the same ground he'd used against the admiral. Long, hard sounds for air have him breathless and when he fails to get up, Alrec can easily take him out with a kick, grab and punch or simply leave him there without ability to speak or continue-- either way, Alrec takes the advantage and the southern ward of the Velenosa finds defeat.
Freja has joined the General Seating.
Nadia has left the General Seating.
Nadia has left the game.
Calista claps for the competitors as Talen slumps down like a sack of potatoes. She bristles only slightly, not giving too much away. "Excellent fighting by both men. Admiral Alrec is certainly a force to be reckoned with. Princess Jaenelle, it appears your champion is the victor."
Nadia has entered the game.
Alrec swallows the blood in his mouth, spitting to the side. He walks over to the down Sword, crunching his nose and curling his lip. A deep sigh escapes him as the Admiral steps backs, giving him his back. He unties the ribbon and holds it in his fist, raising his arm and blowing a kiss towards Jaenelle, "For you, princess."
Nadia has joined the General Seating.
"And the winner, by knockout is Alrec Magaldi fighting with the favor of Princess Jaenelle Velenosa!" Viviana declares as she gestures for Alrec to come collect his trophy. "Someone should maybe move Talen out of the field until he wakes up." She suggests a little quieter.
Freja just raises both of her brows and keeps her eyes -on- the field as Hammar bellows his question.
Acacia brings her hands together to add to the applause herself, her head ticking to the side as she comments only, "Brutal fight." Although Lord Victus had been regarded for his words, and a secondary look towards Hammar. It's only when he starts to shout about that she abruptly stands up and tries to smack the man upside the head, "/Sit down/."
Niccolo watches Talen fall, with dark brown eyes that linger on the unconscious man, before they turn to Alrec. There's a small incline of his head in acknowledgment of the winner. With a glance over to Viviana when she makes the victory formal. The duke then looks to some of his guards, and they step over toward Talen as if on cue, to help him out of the field.
Victus has left the General Seating.
Jaenelle stands and offers Alrec a dip of her head in acknowledgement, "thank you my Champion, you fought well."
"And that brings us at last to the final event for today, the greatest test of endurance in all of Arvum, the Marathon race." Viviana declares. "Would all those wishing to participate make their way down to the starting line."
Alrec rolls his shoulders, the fight was brutal but the Admiral appears to be in charge of sense if not tired by the attack. Dirty and sweating he moves toward Viviana and accepts the trophy, showing it to the crowd. In response, his men howl. The Admiral takes a moment and says, "So where is my silver?" To the crowd, "I bet four thousand in my favor." There is contain anger, perhaps brought by Talen's dirty fighting. When Jaenelle speaks to him, he calms down and nods. He steps away from the Princess and moves toward the Marathon, "I'm racing too."
Talen needs the help to move to the sidelines and though he's still out cold for a time, he's receiving the treatment he needs. The Velenosa guard who get him to the medics are prompt and there Talen remains for the Decathlon's conclusion.
Victus leaves the benches, and the roaring Hammar behind. He swings his arms this way and that, pumping some blood back into his system after having been sitting and so stupidly allowing himself to cool back down again. "Shouldn't have had that glass of wine," he mutters to himself. His hands scratches against his beard. When he reaches the field, he motions over one of his guards to take his tunic, first, and then give him something quick to drink. A little bit later he's at the starting line.



"I did worse to you," Victus remarks to Alrec. "Not that you're looking too pretty anyway."
Talen has left the Field.
Talen has left the game.
Talen has entered the game.
Victus has joined the Field.
Freja rises from her seat and ruffles Rohkir's hair before bounding of out reach and down the stands to take her place on the field. Given the size of her cotton tunic, belted at the waist with a leather belt that at least matches her boots, she must have stolen the garment from one of her oversized cousins or her brother. Placing her hands on her hips, she rocks back and forth on her feet, heel to toe and then back again as she waits.
Freja has left the General Seating.
Freja has joined the Field.
(OOC) Rohkir says: Ugh. Lag.
Gustave closes his eyes for the last few rounds of fighting. He's not squeamish, there is just a lack of desire, of taste for violence. He'll do it if he has to, but this...for sport...the Marquis avoids turning a shade of pale only through sheeer willpower. Still, he manages to slide off his seat and head to the starting line. He cracks his knuckles and drops into a stance. "We're both a little handicapped." Gustave says merrily, glad to have something else to focus on.
Talen has left the game.
"On your marks racers." Viviana declares, "Get set, and race!" She calls out over the field.



(@check stamina + athletics once for each lap around the arena, four laps in total.)
Talen has entered the game.
As Acacia tells him to sit and then promptly smacks him upside the head, one of Hammar's ham-sized hands drops down to the warhammer at his side, as if in reflex and when it is about half-way out of the the loop it is slid into, he suddenly releases his grip on the brutal weapon he uses to crush people. "Hammar..." He mutters, and probably for the first time she's likely seen, there is pure anger in the massive man's eyes and those huge fists ball up, but he really likes Acacia and he cannot seem to bring himself to pummeling her with his large hands, he turns and begins to bound down the steps nearest him, moving with grace and speed that a man his size in full steel armor likely should not be able to accomplish. He should probably race! But it seems he is not headed for the track, but rather to exit before he hurts anyone.
A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Talen before departing.
(OOC) Victus says: Daymn, Gustave.
(OOC) Freja chokes on dust.
(OOC) Gustave says: Its all that pike charging!
Talen has left the game.
"Your Grace, Your Highnesses, Your Ladyship." There's a sparse bow when Acacia gingerly slips up to a standing position, gazing after the larger man with a gentle drum of her fingertips against the hilt of her blade. "Excuse me. Please enjoy the rest of her event." Her steps are much more leisurely when she steps to stroll after Hammar, flask still glued to her hand by the time she wends her way with familiarity through the natural flow of the crowds and departs.
Alrec chuckles to Victus, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah." He gets ready to race after a moment of catching himself. When the call is put out to run, Alrec runs but keeps his pace again behind the Redrain Princess. The Admiral isn't even aware that Gustave is off in the distance but he seems comfortable in his place at the race, keeping to himself as he counts his breath.
Freja starts off strong, long legs working in her benefit as the Northern woman bolts ahead of Alrec and Victus, keeping a close tail on Gustave as much as she can.
Hammar is leaving Arx - Ward of the Compact - Tournament Grounds, heading for Arx - Ward of the Compact - Honor Place.
Hammar has left the General Seating.
Acacia is leaving Arx - Ward of the Compact - Tournament Grounds, heading for Arx - Ward of the Compact - Honor Place.
Acacia has left the General Seating.
Gustave takes off to a strong start, though he does his best not to overdo it on the first leg. Still, he feels comfortable enough with his initial forward drive that he settles into a more relaxed pace, ideally creating a cushion on which he can comfortably ride. No words, just putting onefoot in front of the other. He does however keep a mental reckoning of where Freja is in space and time. Great lungs processing air as he runs.
These running events do not seem to be in Victus' favor. He avoids the complete disaster of the sprint, but still falls way behind in the first lap. His expression closes, becomes hard and focused as he focuses on his breathing while his arms pump. Its a long run; there's an opportunity to catch up later. Possibly. Even if he looks quite alone there at the way tail end of the runners.
"It looks as if the large Blackram is off to an early lead as the racers pass the post." Viviana comments, "But he better watch out as the quick Redrain is right on his heels with the pirate and Thraxian warlord bringing up the end of the party, but there's still a long way to go..."
Talen has entered the game.
(OOC) Alrec says: hey! allegedly pirate!
(OOC) Freja cries
(OOC) Viviana says: The dice are a fickle mistress.
Edain arrives.
Edain has joined the General Seating.
(OOC) Gustave says: Shit!
Freja opts to keep her pace rather than pushing it, even if that means some of the others behind her start to catch up. She doesn't glance around to keep check of the others, just a steadfast glance on what lays ahead on the laps.
(OOC) Gustave says: Sorry!
Patience is a virtue. Victus' methodical running pays some dividends as he overtakes Alrec, finally, and eats up some of the distance between himself and Freja. Even if the big lumbering Thraxian remains quite far behind the long legged Redrain. Let alone Gustave with his enormous lead in the front of things. Sweat bathes his forehead and slickens his naked torso, making his tan skin shine. Halfway through the run, and fatigue is starting to become a thing. His eyes glaze, and he relies on motor rhythm and instinct as his brain turns itself half off. One leg in front of the other. One leg in front of the other.
Steady she goes, as the say. He continues in his leisure pace conserving his stamina and watches Victus over take him. When the Thrax does pass him, Alrec begins to sing a Thrax cadence.
Is he going full bore? Is he simply managing his strides better? It might have something to do with very very long legs and Victus's frequent feeling of shrimpiness. Gustave continues the run, not bothering to glance back. Stand straight, stand tall, move forward and get as much purchase out of each step forward as possible. A low grunt and snort as he continues to hold his place in the second leg of the race.
"It seems Victus has overtaken Alrec and Gustave extends his lead as we head into the second half of the race. Can the big man go the distance though or is he spending himself too soon?" Viviana announces.
(OOC) Gustave prepares to eat dirt.
Rohkir lets his attention drift to Viviana, lips pursed thoughtfully.
Focused on Freja in front of him, Victus doggedly eats up the distance bit by bit. But there's only so much left of the marathon to run as they complete the third and the last stretch opens up in front of them. As for Gustave and Alrec; neither of them are currently being paid attention to at all. One is too far ahead to be caught, while the other is behind, and he's not the type to look back. His breathing grows even more labored, his movements mechanical, and he's squeezing every last bit of water out of his body by the looks of it. Sweat is splashing everywhere.
Alrec knows he ain't the running type but still, the desire to win is in him and he tries his best. That is not good enough as he is pushed to last place. Alrec continues the run, mastering his breathing.
The Redrain woman is keeping a steady pace now, her breath as even as her stride now that she is past the sprint of the beginning to take a second lead. Gustave remains a far ways ahead of Freja, and even she has to raise her brows in surprise at the man.
Gustave continues to run, his steps thundering. Perhaps in his head he imagines he is running with his people, having to hold a pike steady. A charge that seemingly goes forever. Arms pulling in almost machinelike fashion, legs finding purchase with every step. His breath starting to quicken but still deep, powerful. Gaze narrowed to a single point as he prepares for that final, last, inevitable leg.
"The Blackram is looking unstoppable as the Thraxian born men must both be setting their sights on trying to overtake the fleetfooted Redrain Princess as we move into the final lap." Viviana announces.
(OOC) Alrec says: b-b-brother?
His tank is perhaps more empty than he is aware. Gustave slows noticeably, his breath quickening in that final lap. Still he manages to finish cleanly, crossing the finish line and making it several steps before leaning forward, hands resting on knees as he leans forward. Its only then that he looks around, looking for the other marathon runners. Sweat pouring down his face as he exhales deeply.
For the last two legs Victus has been eyeing Freja, trying to eat up the distance to the fleet of foot Princess. But by the time he finally stumbles over the finish line, spent, panting, head bowed and the whole of him just feeling utterly wrechedly miserable, she was even further off than when they started the last lap. At least, and this he only really acknowledges when he glances finally behind him, he wasn't utterly last. For the time being, bent over, elbows on his knees as he pants, talking to the others is way beyond his capabilities.
With a bright peal of laughter, Freja finishes the finish line and pivots on heel to beam a smile at the others. "Well done! I say we've all earned a drink!" In a rare mood indeed, the usually wintery woman is all sunshine right now, clapping her hands together once before placing one on a hip, shifting her weight to it. "No wine..please."
"And the winner is Gustave Blackram!" Viviana announces, "With Freja Redrain coming in second, please collect your trophies as we have a big round of applause for our marathon racers." She indicates the trophy table before joining in the applause.
Jaenelle claps for all of the runners, all of them doing much better than she ever could!
Alrec reaches the finish line in last place but he doesn't seem too vex about it. His attention fall on Gustave who gets a good nod from the Admiral and an empty praise, "Good run." The Redrain princess also gets Alrec's attention but her endurance in a run was half-expecting considering how she did in the first race. The Admiral moves towards the benches and joins his crew, taking a moment to catch himself. He is afforded water and a back rub. "Someone bring me my wine."
Freja takes the trophy with a salute to Viviana, passing it off to the poor Redrain guard that already holds her other second place one. "Somewhere in the Redrain place? Just not...on a shelf over the tub. I don't feel like dying by head injury."
(OOC) Alrec says: wait, do redrains shower now?
(OOC) Freja does!!
(OOC) Rohkir says: It's dependent on the Redrain in particular.
(OOC) Rohkir says: Different bathing habits. As if they were... *gasp* people. ;)
Jaenelle boos loudly at Freja's words, "you are no fun!" She can't help but grin though, nodding her head, "it would do us no good for you to die from bludgeoning though."
(OOC) Nadia says: We all shower. It's a law.
Gustave takes a moment to collect his breath, coming to receive his trophy, bowing deeply to the Lady Pravus as he accepts his prize. Then standing, somewhere between solid and liquid as he nods towards Alrec. "Well done." That same nod towards Freja in acknowledgement. "Good run." He then moves to find a place to sit and water himself down. Two Blackram knights dump a barrel of ice water upon him. Gustave grunts, hisses but otherwise endures the mix between purgation of heavenly relief.
Viviana waits for the applause to die down. "That brings the Decathlon to a close for today, refreshments will continue to be served for another hour, be sure to return tomorrow for the archery as well as the finals of the Joust and single combat." She encourages everyone before stepping down from the judges booth.