5 Redoubt Buccaneers arrives, following Maximilian.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Maximilian before departing.

3 Culler Lackeys arrives, following Orathy.

3 Culler Lackeys have been dismissed.

Maximilian steps into the square, pushing his cowl back from his features. "MAster Rainier... I am told we should be meeting soon."

The yards have been cleaned up and stands have been put up for audiences to sit and watch those who join but the King's Own have spent a lot of time making sure the sands themselves are clear of obstacles - there are a few training dummies there still, quite likely left on purpose where they were, but otherwise there is flat ground suitable for duels to take place with enough room around them for any participants to move freely without worry some passerby might be skewered in error. There are guards as well since alcohol in the stands along with the scent of blood often provokes violence in similar venues.

Rainier stands apart from the stands and peers at those already gathered here. The knight is garbed in a dark green cloak, bearing the blade of office - marked in silver over the long hilt protruding from behind his shoulders - and when he's satisfied enough have arrived he lifts a hand to greet them. "Please welcome!", he calls out, raising his voice perhaps more than he should have; this is no practiced speaker. "If you are planning to participate please step forward and state your name and rank for the record.

Once he's approached though he nods at the other man. "And we are, milord." he tells Maximilian with a slight smile. "Are you impatient to show us your skills?"

"I have no idea what we are doing." Says Maximilian, looking around the area, taking in the sights of the people present. "Mistress Mirari." He greets, tone low and gravely. "So enlighten us."

Something telling about the return of Orathy Culler to the King's Own games. Bold or stupid. Maybe a mix. With his left arm obviously double braced and sitting at an odd position with hand nearly againt his chest, it becomes aware to most who see him that it's not exactly as it should be. The man was favoring it and yet, he was here, with the intent to compete. Although, the difference was that he was wearing gear, black leather, so that at least, provides the man some protection where as last time he participated in mere shirt and pants. He steps forward as called, "Orathy.... Culler." He adds the last name as if hesitating, not quite sure what people these parts would know of it.

"Mirari Corsetina." says the Whisper, as she steps forward. She leans down and slides the hem of her dress up far enough to show off a great length of shapely leg... and the thigh sheath on her left leg. From it she dugs out a small black-bladed dagger, with a length of green silk ribbon on the hilt. She twirls it just a little bit between her fingers, the venom green ribbon flashing through the air.

Rainier gives Maximilian another of those curt nods of his; despite the bearded knight's discomfort with public addresses he does seem to know his way around a yard well enough. "Master Orathy, you look like death warmed over." he tells one of the potential participants with a knowing smirk. "I expected neither better nor worse from you." Once that's done though he begins to explain how things will work.

"Two duelists will enter the yard. The idea is to simulate assassins and how they would duel; carrying no obvious weapon larger than a dagger, and perhaps no weapon at *all*." the man explains, gesturing at Mirari to approach once he catches sight of her as well. "Or, like this lady, anything you can *conceal* on your person. The objective is to showcase how lethal a person can be even without the benefit of proper weapons."

He points to the yard again and adds, "Once you are in there anything you find, and anything you carry with you can be used. But we will confiscate anything we can *see* at a glance that is obviously a weapon." And after that: "Does anyone have any questions so far?"

"Aint dead yet, Ashford, 'n I be wantin a word after eh?" Orathy intones to Rainier, with his eyes fixing on the other contestants. This one is a scrappy son of a bitch from the Lowers and he's competing against the field with an injured arm, and if Rainier is right about it, death warmed over. What the objective has him smirk, hunching down a little, bobbing his head back and forth to crack his neck before he rolls his shoulder, only the right one though, the left giving no sign of movement.

Maximilian nods to the others... "Alright. So then. Who am I fighting?" He inquires, turning to look at the others present, one hand running back through his hair.

Reese tromps in while adorned in all this heavy plate. She has a silvery pink sword at one hip and a firey pink sword at her other hip.

"At this rate, Master Culler, I have to ask myself if you will be able to speak following this." He nods toward the yard though making no attempts to prevent the man from joining. "A skilled assassin could fake or even bear a true injury in order to appear harmless. If you are certain you are ready for it then please. By all means." He glances between him and Maximilian though then steps out of the way.

"The two of you gentlemen look like you can handle yourselves. Why don't we give this a try first and see how you do?" he asks them. "Remember - this is to the first blood. If you hear me call it off you are to step away from each other *immediately*." After stopping for a moment he stresses that out again. "Please do not make me get in there and separate you. It will be unseemly and you might stain my good cloak."

Mirari steps forward, holds her dagger in her hand. Grinning dangerously. Her emerald eyes bright, as she runs her tongue along her lower lip. Waiting for when she'll be starting to fight.

Reese has another sword as well, longer than her own short swords and belonging to a certain Duke. She draws close, watching the soon to start combat.

Orathy sends a snarl like grin toward Rainier, "Be if ya were a real assassin, ya deal with consequences fer breakin inta places ya didn't scout first..." As if to indicate back to the first games he took part of, sliding his vision toward his opponent that he gets matched with, Maximilian. He exhales a breath and moves to scout the arena for something useful...

Maximilian murmurs to one of his men. They run off at a doubletime. After a few minutes, they come back with some servants. In the middle of the square, they set up a small bar. A table, a few chairs, a few bottles of drink. Maximilian steps over to take a chair for himself and pours himself a tall drink.

The bar is sparse - just a few basic chairs, a table, a small 'counter top'. But it serves the purpose of providing a variety of improvised weapons that people can use. "Master Orathy. I've heard of you."

Rainier watches the prepare for the duel, watching how they are handling themselves even before violence begins. "We are doing this regularly, although this is the first time we are opening it to the public." he explains. "Usually such training is offered to soldiers, mercenaries and guardsmen for Houses as well as Templars of the Faith, trying to prevent assassination attempts from taking place. But it is good if everyone can see just how deadly a person can be without having to carry a traditional weapon on them." he tells those gathered. "Because even Master Orathy here might be surprised at the lengths a determined party will go to just to ensure their target is eliminated."

"You've never been to a Pravus dinner." Says Maximilian, who has.

Orathy glances over at Maximilian, maybe frowning ever so slightly at the fact that the other's heard of him. "Aye? How so?" He calls over but he's already tromping toward the wooden fences that separate pens so horses can be posted. He actually hauls himself up with the one arm and rolls over the fence, disappearing so no one can see what he's up to. Then some time after, he pops back over, heading for the archery range and rooting through there as well, since they're all in the short distance and using the time it takes Max's guy to set up a nice little dining table. Milling about, he seems to be messing with some of the equipment and makes his way back toward the main arena... his hood drawn up, the cowl deep enough to shadow his face and mask his intentions. His gloves are on, leathers, duster, all of it, secured. He's gait is light as he starts to circle around where Max has his table and chairs set up. Whatever he took, he's hiding under his duster, or in the palm of his right hand, for it grips something but isn't entirely visible.

Orathy snorts at Rainier's words, as he determines his approach.

Orathy checked dexterity + small wpn against difficulty 22, resulting in 24, 2 higher than the difficulty.

Maximilian continues, at the little bar he's set up, to watch the others. He seems, content as a nobleman and captain, to allow the other man to get the drop on him. After all, he's probably the target between them.

Rainier continues to watch Orathy's attack carefully as he prepares to launch himself forward, noting Maximilian isn't even trying to gain the upper hand. "The strategy is sometimes interesting, no?" he asks Mirari once he walks closer to the Whisper. "Who do you think is going to walk out of there the winner?" The knight doesn't offer an opinion of his own though but nods to greet Reese once he spots her nearby, gesturing that she should approach even if she's not a declared participant, or at least not quite yet.

Orathy, aware of the onlookers, aware of his own injuries, aware that Maximilian is 'situated' as if he were a real mark, drinking at a bar, does the Culler take the advantage given to him. The opening provided has the Lowers man approaching from Max's six, crouched down, ready to attack. And when he does, it may be that it looks like he's just about to give Max a right hook to the ribs. To Max, if he has time, he may notice it to be something else. (to be whispered based on roll).

Max checked dexterity + brawl against difficulty 24, resulting in 57, 33 higher than the difficulty.

Reese has a gentle smile for Rainier that reaches her blue eyes. She draws closer to the competition at his urging. The Grayson princess turns her focus to Orathy and Max, watching them with interest as they spar.

Sasha, a smoke-gray mountain lion arrives, following Tristram.

Maximilian tilts his head, hearing the man behind him. It's the crunch of gravel, the shift of the other mans boots on the ground. And then Max is a blur of black silk, a whirling column of shadow. The chair is kicked away as a hand comes to block the blow that would have punctured a kidney if it landed, and then he steps into the other mans arc, a knee coming to the other mans midsection, trying to set up an elbow to the face.

Tristram comes in to watch the trainings.

Ryder the falcon arrives, delivering a message to Tristram before departing.

Orathy checked strength + brawl against difficulty 22, resulting in 25, 3 higher than the difficulty.

Max checked dexterity + brawl against difficulty 25, resulting in 31, 6 higher than the difficulty.

Tristram checked command + animal ken against difficulty 0, resulting in 42, 42 higher than the difficulty.

Ryder the falcon arrives, delivering a message to Tristram before departing.

Orathy knows there's a counter attack coming, but when Max counters his first so easily, Orathy's left trying to catch up in between all those fluttering black silks going on there. He struggles to get out of the situation, but a knee catches him in the midsection and while he seems capable of managing that, he's almost entirely at the mercy of the other man in seconds... the weakness of his left side showing as he moves to counter with his right arm again, the swipe of an arrow head seen as he defends. It's not a weak defense either, it's just he's hard pressed and winded.

Tristram gets a decidedly odd look on his face.

Rainier nods appreciatively. "Master Orathy has ... they call it guts. They call what he *has* many things, but it is as good a name as any." he murmurs to Reese as the other man starts getting into serious trouble; his eyes flinch just slightly in anticipation for what's to come, but he catches sight of Tristram coming in and gives the Valardin Prince a polite nod of his head in greetings.

Reese is standing close to the brawl, but not too close! She has three swords, one a bit too long for her frame and probably not actually belonging to herself. She looks kind of silly with the three swords. It might even slow her gait, having this much gear on her rather normal-sized body. She leans in to listen to Rainier's murmur. A smile is given to Tristram.

Max is a deckfighter, a brawler, a dockside pugilist and someone who comes from a culture in which you keep what you kill. As such, he's pretty inured to physical attacks upon him. Sailors are a roudy lot. As such he is prepared, ready and fluid. He's already inside the other mans arc, already moving inside his effective range.

When he senses the weakness in the left side, he turns to that way, a quick jab to the belly, then an elbow to the shoulder. These are just hectoring blows, moving Orathy where he wants him to be - where he needs him to be for the setup. And then, in a series of successive blows - a kick to the shin, an elbow to the chest, a jab to the jaw - leaving ORathy dazed and off his center, Count Maximilian Darkwater grabs the other mans tunic - and jerks him forward.

While slamming his forehead downward, connecting the other mans nose.

There is a spray of blood...

And then Max drops him.

Mirari watches the fight silently, running the blade of her dagger against her lower lip. Gently brushing it back and forth as she considers Max and Orathy.

Dagon stays on the peripheral of the crowd, his hands clasped behind his back. As he watches Max completely decimate some poor commoners nose though, the young Prince's lips reel back in a tragic wince of pity for Orathy.

Sparte shows up late to the show, dressed in a red patterned bandana, simple tunic, and simple trousers over sandals. He doesn't have anything else with him that stands out. He files in with the other spectators.

Rainier steps forward, getting closer to the yard immediately in order to signal that the duel is over with a raised clenched first. "We have a winner." he announces, ensuring that the duel ends exactly there and that the two of them won't try to continue beating each other up. "Can we please join our hands for both participants?" he asks of the audience, smiling thinly back toward the newcomers. "This was a show of technique... and valor. Master Maximilian, you allowed your opponent the drop and won regardless; that is impressive. Often the first blow conveys an advantage."

Orathy checked composure against difficulty 15, resulting in 33, 18 higher than the difficulty.

Maximilian glances at Rainier. "Master?"

Ryder the falcon arrives, delivering a message to Tristram before departing.

Mirari lowers her dagger long enough that she can clap for Orathy and Max. She steps forward, running a hand over the severe midnight black of her dress. The dagger is placed between her teeth, and she lifts her hands to twist her hair around, and then knot it up at the back of her neck.

For all that there's a rough edge fighter about Orathy, it's clear he has no formal training than what he's mustered on his own and what ever that meant down in the Lowers. Scrapper he was though and he knows how to take the shots. At some point in the contest things just go from bad to worse for him and he cannot get a jab in. Then stars. Oh there are stars. His bell was wrung and he descends to a knee, with a shake of his head, blood pouring from his nose. Though. Oddly. There's no howls, no screams, no whining. There's nothing but a silent acceptance as he waits for his vision to stop dotting.

"You didn't hear? Everyone's moving down a spot. I'm getting Duke, and you get Master," Dagon calls over to the bloodied Maximilian (though, probably not his own blood?), from his position on the sidelines.

Maximilian reaches down to offer his forearm to Orathy to pull him up to his feet when he's ready. "You are heavier on your right foot than your left, Master Orathy. It creates an uneaven gait." Then to Dagon... "BUt if I move down, Prince Dagon!" He calls... "I should be a Baron!"

Saedrus arrives, following Costas.

Tristram says, "What exactly is it that you wanted volunteers for, Rainier?"

Tristram says, "To fight that lovely young woman?"

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Tristram before departing.

Mirari takes the blackened blade of her dagger from her mouth, hair now out of the way. Her eyebrows arch toward the other combatants, blade idly tapped at her left arm. "Tsk. Cowards."

His eyes watered up though, that's a natural reaction, but he's wiping the blood on the back of his black leathers. Orathy looks up at the arm extended, gripping it with his firm hand and pulling himself up. "Am I? Ye know a bit bout this then hah.. damn..." he sniffs and snorts, trying to stem the run of blood down his nose, "Ye ain't willing to impart a few tips would ya?"

"My apologies if you did not receive the proper address." Rainier tells Maximilian quietly. "But we have not met before that I know of."

Once Tristram addresses him though he turns toward the Prince then gestures toward the training sands. "Yes. An assassination attempt, or as close as we will get here. You can both enter the yard carrying only concealed weapons - or none at all, if you will fight with your bare hands." he tells the other. "Anything smaller than a dagger will be confiscated."

Tristram says, "I assassinate people from afar with my bow, not with hidden weapons. I'm not your best choice."

Maximilian waves Rainier off. "I know. But most common men do not wear sharkskin and umbra, nor carry Alaricite blades. Or... have the ability to have servants bring in a portable bar. Worry not."

Tristram taps his bow. Not a terribly likely assassin, the Prince in Purple, but who knows?

Sparte glances over to Tristram a moment, shaking his head to himself for one reason or another. Something about it seems amusing to him.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Tristram before departing.

Reese hears the word cowards and blinks! She is a bit of a coward after all Mirari is probably deadly, but she can't be called out ont hat. "I will fight you!" She says, with all this drama, lifting her voice and everything.

Maximilian hauls Orathy to his feet. "I can help some, probably. I'm not much of a teacher though. MOre a practicioner."

"Portable bar..." Dagon breathes out, grin twitching at his lips. He points out Orathy to Max, and suggests to his Islander friend: "Maybe share your portable bar with him. Likely more brilliant than your teaching."

Rainier ponders this and dips his chin with a glance toward the other man. "A bow is a terrifying weapon. But not quite sparring material for the purpose of this contest." he grins and peers around the newcomers. "Is there *no one* who would ... ah hah." He flashes a grin at Reese when she volunteers then quickly gets out of the way to allow the two to enter. "Then we have our duel." he announces. "Please, both of you step forward and state your name... *and* rank." the knight then adds with a quick look toward Maximilian.

Costas swaggers across the field, cutting off his conversation with the courtesan Saedrus as they approach so as not to disturb the proceedings. When he spots Mirari preparing to fight he grins, settling a hand on the pommel of his weapon as he observes.

Mirari smiles toward Reese and says, "Excellent, your highness." She steps forward into the stands then, and says, "Mirari Corsetina. Whisper." She turns toward Reese, emerald eyes fever bright as she begins to circle around the golden haired princess.

Saedrus falls quiet as well once he arrives beside Costas. Evergreen eye cast from Costas to Mirari and Saedrus smiles brightly to the woman, hands folded just so at his front.

"I am Princess Reese Grayson, the pink champion of devotion." She says, just making up her own title on the spot, because she thinks it sounds better to have one. She then smiles this happy smile that reaches her blue eyes. She peeks over to Mirari, including her in the smile.

Mirari checked dexterity + small wpn against difficulty 15, resulting in 35, 20 higher than the difficulty.

Maximilian mouths the words 'pink champion of devotion' to himself, brow lifting in amusement.

Orathy steadies up on his feet, "Reckon be help tis all I need ta not.. be seein so many damn stars next time. Aye." He uses his right thumb and fingers to rub said eyes, grunting a bit, "Jist a shame be not puttin real meat on the table tonight." A half smirk as he looks toward the match between the women now.

Reese checked dexterity + medium wpn against difficulty 15, resulting in 34, 19 higher than the difficulty.

"They're going at it with open blades?" Dagon wonders sidelong of his current company: Max and Orathy. "Assassins indeed. Although I don't know if pink is the appropriate color for assassins..."

Maximilian snerks at his Prince. "Pink... is... a very... very curious color... for assasins. Reminds me of things best unmentioned in public."

Reese is really bright and shiny. Her armor is silvery, her swords are pink and her hair is golden. She would probably make a really bad assassin.

"Yes. Absolutely best if they are unmentioned," Dagon bobs his head in agreement with Max, lips pursing. There's a flicker of amusement in his eyes though as they turn on the combat.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Orathy before departing.

Sparte walks over to Orathy, considering the man a moment before reaching into his belt and pulling out a small tin, offering it over with a few mumured words.

Unlike the women currently occupying the yard Rainier is armed, but the long blade on his back seems far from the King's Own right now as he squats down a few steps outside the dueling grounds in order to watch the two prepare for their clash; there are several knights and squires around the area keeping the peace - a necessity for spectacles of the sort - and rubs his chin thoughtfully in anticipation for what's to come. "Female can make for terrifying combatants." he remarks. "For one thing, the style of formal dresses allows for a wider choice of weaponry to be stashed on their person."

MAx chuckles at his prince , then passes the bottle of rum from the portable bar that no one is using for props. "Some people are so unimaginative."

Reese darts over to one of the training dummies, yanking a wooden short sword from the unliving man. She brandishes the weapon like she is at a duel or the sparing grounds instead of trying for a sneak kill. It is hard to get the Grayson hot-head to leave her warrior princess antics behind. She charges at Mirari, a barreling blonde wrapped in steel, but the courtesan is too clever, maybe too quick or maybe to sneaky for Reese. Her blow fails to connect.

Orathy glances over toward Dagon with a smirk between the commentary, "She be a fine sight tho, lease thar be that. Sparklin pink as she be." He is distracted by a messenger first, whom he whispers to and sends off, then the approach of Sparte. He almost flinches at seeing the other man, Iron guard as it is, "Eh?" Then he looks down at the tin and then back up to Sparte as he takes it, "What cha want fer it?"

Saedrus smiles a touch, pushing to his toes to better see Reese and Mirari.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Orathy before departing.

It's while Reese is trying to get that sword out that Mirari calmly strides across the stands toward her. Moving with the grace of a dancer; when Reese turns to charge at her Mirari steps out of the way just in time, and brings her dagger down against the Princess' shoulder. Cutting just a little at the other woman's clothing.

Mirari checked dexterity + small wpn against difficulty 15, resulting in 42, 27 higher than the difficulty.

Reese checked dexterity + medium wpn against difficulty 15, resulting in 52, 37 higher than the difficulty.

Sparte doesn't look like he has ever had someone flinch from him before. He blinks a few times at Orathy, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. "Just give it back once you've used a bit? I figure I'll need the rest." He glances over to the current fight. "Or someone else will."

Orathy checked composure against difficulty 15, resulting in 17, 2 higher than the difficulty.

Costas cross his arms over his chest, the leather of his long-coat creaking faintly. He grunts faintly in appreciation as the women set to fighting, watching the bout with calm attention.

Dagon eyeballs the rum with half a mind to give it back, but he takes a sip. Much less of one than he did at the wake of Nadia. He hands the rum back towards Max, shaking his head. "Unimaginative, no. Concerned for the sake of nearby ears, maybe." His ice-blue gaze slips from Max, to Orathy, and then to the princess at the man's comment. "Yes, they are both fine looking women." He agrees, in a way that is overwhelmingly neutral about it all. You can take the man from Princehood, but you can't take the Prince from the man.

Another messenger arrives for Orathy. Those around Orathy can hear the uncomfortable speaking messenger, as there is no notes passed this time, but words. The messenger states: "You are a good man, and I am sure you will do what you are able." The messenger waits for a reply from Orathy, and the reply is to simply stare in that moment of awkward silence. "Uh... good, er.. thanks...er for that..." And the messenger is relieved to zoom back out of there. A little caught off guard but still composed, he turns back to Sparte, "Sorry whut?" Then he looks back at the tin, holding it in his left hand and prying open the lid with the right, staying steady, "Reckon jus need it fer me nose. Leather be absorbin the others..."

A bit of Reese's linen shirt is cut and she seems confused. The princess sometimes has a hard time understanding subtleness. How did she do that? Where did her dagger come from? *blink* *blink* A moment later she spins around, the wooden sword still in her hand. She strikes toward Mirari. Not wanting to truly hurt her, the blow is hopefully just hard enough to knock her off balance without causing real harm.

Sparte gets a small round tin pot filled with a sticky mixture from a double wrap sword belt made of quality leather.

"I wouldnt' kick either out of my bed for eat'n crackers." Says Max. Eloquent as a brick to the face.

"Eating... crackers..." Dagon echoes, at a loss for words.

Sparte snickers a little at Orathy's messenger, giving a faux salute to the messenger as they head off before turning to watch the rest of the fight.

Mirari skates after Reese, slipping forward to attempt to slide the tip of her blade against Reese's side. Getting far too close, to the blonde haired woman. The blonde causes her to be just a little bit off balance. Her emerald eyes looking surprised.

Mirari checked dexterity + small wpn against difficulty 15, resulting in 47, 32 higher than the difficulty.

Reese checked dexterity + medium wpn against difficulty 15, resulting in 78, 63 higher than the difficulty.

Saedrus glances briefly to Max with a small, amused shake of his head. His attention though returns quickly to Mirari and Reese, with a blink for seeing Mirari tipped off her balance.

Ryder the falcon arrives, delivering a message to Tristram before departing.

Rainier must have overheard Maximilian's comments because he turns for just a moment to fix a stare at the other man before checking the duel again. "The footwork is excellent." he mutters, perhaps referring to Reese who had at that point started gaining momentum and touches the ground in front of him from his squatting position so that two fingers seem to be holding the knight's full weight - even though they are quite clearly not.

Orathy is glad that the other two were talking about crackers, though he does side look to Sparte's snickering, "Be she knows I be not knowin me letters well ta read much. Tha be fuckin awkward tho." After spreading some of the salve on his nose and around his eyes, since it will all swell up and turn black and blue eventually, already swelling. Then with a flick, he closes the lid to pass it back to Sparte, "Ye know a little bout brawlin then? Whar yer name again? Lantern man? Can't remember it. But, ya here ta fight?"

Maximilian glances at Dagon. "What? You've never had cracker crumbs in your sheets? That shit is ANNOYING. Anyone who eats crackers in my bed, I usually kick em out. Those girls? I might gettem some cheese to go on them crackers."

Tristram says, "Mind your tongue, Count Darkwater."

"Or what?" Asks Max, looking over at Valdarian Prince. "You're gonna duel me for getting someone -cheese-? Man. What have you got against dairy?"

Sparte glances to Orathy. "I don't care for it, really." He looks back to the fight. "But I have friends who do, so thought I should be here. Doesn't mean I can't, just... I don't do it for fun or anything." A pause as he sighs like the teenager he is. "Anyway, name is Sparte." He is, blissfully, unaware of the importance of cheddar on a woman's crackers.

Maximilian holds up his hands. "Some people."

Reese takes advantage of Mirari being off balance to strike her once again with the practice sword. She is too busy to hear Max's words all her focus on trying to win this fight. Reese can be quite driven to win. She strikes, her gauntlet fist against the skin of Mirari's arm. She maybe draws a little blood. The blow is maybe hard to knock Mirari to her feet. Still she is trying not cause serious harm, if she can help it.

"I can earnestly say that I've never had reason to have crackers in bed," Dagon tells Maximilian, frowning in thought as he considers the idea. "Wine, sure. Fruits and cream, yes. Never crackers." His gaze ticks back to the fight, charting their progress for a moment before he opens his mouth to ask Max something else -- but he pauses at the words from Tristram. His lips close in a thin, barely concealed grin -- and he inclines his head to Tristram in a sort of greeting. "Your highness."

Orathy hears the comments from Max and nods in agreement, smirking at the bit about cheese. His eyes rake back to Sparte, "Aye right. Sparte. Ye be in a hurry last time I be seein ya. Cartin around laterns. How'd that be going fer ya?" As for the matter of being a combative opponent and doing it for fun, Orathy offers, "Last games I be gettin a fine prize. Reckon this nar jist fer fun."

Costas smirks faintly as he overhears Max and the others, a low chuckles breaking from his throat. His attention remains mostly on the fight however, one eyebrow raised dubiously.

Tristram says, "I was under the impression that you were a dashing rogue, Darkwater. If you can't spit game better than a prepubescent stableboy, you're going to have to hang up your spurs." He smiles to Dagon with a casual wave."

Mirari is off her balance long enough to take a gauntleted fist to her arm. She looks down at the scratch on her arm and then back toward Reese, looking surprised and perhaps a little bit confused. Her dagger is lowered as she says, "Well done, your highness." She then walks off of the stands, to head toward Costas and Saedrus.

Maximilian laughs at Tristram. "Dashing rogue. You hear that Dagon? They say I'm -Dashing-." He bumps Dagon's shoulder. "Used to call you dashing, before you were gonna marry Natalia. Now its me."

Saedrus pushes up to his toes again, evergeens widen a touch to see Mirari knocked and first blood drawn. The male courtesan smiles as she approaches, lifting a gentle hand to her shoulder to press a kiss to Mirari's cheek and a whispered word there.

"If that's what passes for dashing, I'll stay far away from the moniker," Dagon tells Max, though his eyes are on the fight -- and when it's called, he puts his hands together in some light golf claps for Reese.

Saedrus adds to the applause with a smile to Reese, and delicate bow of his head.

Rainier steps forward again with his left fist held upwards, the fingers clenched. "We have a winner! Princess Reese Grayson has scored the telling blow - but please, let us clap for both of them. That was quite a duel." he praises those within the yard, just checking to make sure they stop fighting at this point. He makes a quick gesture, causing two squires working under the King's Own to approach clearly in order to help anyone who needs it. "I hope you are not wounded, milady." he tells the Whisper and nods at her as she walks by toward Costas and Saedrus.

Mirari checked composure + manipulation against difficulty 15, resulting in 17, 2 higher than the difficulty.

Sparte looks at Max and Tristram a few moments before looking back to Orathy. "We're having a ceremony to light them at the shrine of Lagoma. Everyone is welcome, and Mercy Sophie - who is doing the blessing - has said she plans to hang some in the lower borroughs herself." He frowns a bit. "I won't discourage it, though I know how you feel about it. Maybe she'll need someone to keep her safe while she does that, though. Someone that doesn't make everyone mad just because of his profession."

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Tristram before departing.

Mirari smiles sweetly toward Rainier, "It's a scratch." She turns back toward Saedrus and leans back against him to press her lips back to his. She leans back and asks of the courtesan, "Did you want to show us that thing you had in mind tonight, dear heart?" A glance is given in Costas' direction. "I believe I am done playing with people who don't know the first thing about assassination appropriate weapons."

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Tristram before departing.

Costas grins widely as Mirari approaches, and when she is standing before him the grimly-clad warrior lifts one callused hand to wipe the blood away from the little scratch on her arm. His gaze warm and roguish, he presses his thumb to his lips and licks her blood from it. "Shall we be off, then?" He glances briefly over to the knot of Thraxans. "For some reason I'm craving crackers. Let's stop and pick some up on the way home."