Lyiana slipps into the gathering more or less, standing on the fringes of the group. She has on an old blue dress that has seen better days and a cloak and shoes.

Wear clothes you don't like; Alis and Fiachra have taken that to heart, apparently. They show up together hand-in-hand wearing the grubbiest breeches and tunics they could find. She may have borrowed one of his shirts, sorry. 'Borrowed'. But at least they are prepared to make nasty rations! Yay for hardtack!! Or seabiscuits. Or whatever they're going to be making. The point is they wanted to stay busy, and this will help people, so here they are.

Princess Donella and her able team, headed by Count Maximilian have decked the area in from of the Vellichorian Academy in the form of a sort of... crappy outdoor bakery. Everything necessary for the task has been assembled. She has seated herself on a barrelhead, with a napkin closed around something about as thick as her thumb-- which is right there for the comparison. "Good evening," she says to those who may have simply come to gawk. "Armies and cities all stand upon their stomachs! Truth? What's true for people at sea, as well as people stuck behind walls, is hunger. We all must eat."

Mars, the Thraxian war-pig, 2 Thrax Guards arrive, following Dominic.

Orathy nudges right up alongside Lyiana, walking quietly enough behind her that he was either with her or stalking her. That he nudges her was evident of the former. He's wearing his second best set of clothes, which was, to some, a much more ragged set than they'd ever let their livered servants be caught in. The man was a true Lowers boy, so he had come to see what all the fuss was about, something about survival at least, drew merit. The odd thing about the man, was his left arm was in a sling, bandaged and held in a way that would suggest it is healing from a break.

Ford arrives rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. Ready to get messy. Though he hasn't actually changed out of his nice clothes. Fuck it. What's a little mess?

Dusting off her hands as Acacia pries her way closer towards the front of the crowd, she begins thoroughly rolling up the linen sleeves of her shirt. With the denizens as they currently are, she only manages a polite inclination of her torso in greeting towards Alis aside - one that is shared similarly towards Fiachra given the proximity. Ford is regarding as his action is the same and her lips tug into a partial grin at the same time. "What's the worst that can happen," she murmurs mirthfully. Orathy's sling gets an extra stare or three though.

Child of Brighthold and coastal dweller that she was for most of her youth, there is a certain amused familiarity that lights Tikva's bright eyes as she surveys the general assemblage, a faint quizzical pinch to her eyebrows above the freckled spatter of her nose as she paces lightly through the crowd. Scrubbing her hands lightly against each other, she starts rolling up her sleeves. It's as much symbolic as anything else. "Right," she says with bright, easy cheer. "What's the worst that could happen?"

Lyiana gives Orathy a sidelong grin, staring at his arm as its bound up in a sling. She eyes him for a moment before taking a breath to spew words better left unheard, then stops herself and just nods slowly, reaching up to touch his arm gently in acknowledgement. She leans into his good side, watching the gathering. She rolls up her sleeves, showing thin freckled wrists and delicate arms. Her hands are clean and nothing is out of place for the little tailor, yet she stays close to Orathy.

2 King's Own Guardsmen, Kelpie arrive, following Rainier.

Maximilian stands near Donella, a clipboard in his hand as he goes down the list of things. An eye is given to Donella, along with a nod indicating that yes - everything is ready.

Eirlys is actually not to far behind Ford, she is in an old pair of breeches and a shirt that has a hole in it. Hey they said wear something grubby. She did. She looks around and sees her brother and Alis then starts to walk over to them. She does see Ford and she waves before she looks around. "Ok, what exactly do we have to do?"

Orathy is already looking around at the crowd, snarking side long to Lyiana, "Fancy pants are rollin up their sleeves ta make us food? Ahh HAH... fucking funny this is..." He does jerk his chin down when Lyiana seems to be wanting to participate in the events, but his arm slings around her as she leans into him. Another look around and that's when he notices a familiar face, his lips spilling into a toothy grin as he somewhat tries to lift up his broken arm in a flap, followed by a 'don't worry about it' gesture. Lord knows what happened to break the big man's arm!

Rainier arrives to the scene on foot today, wearing a light leather cloak which billows behind the man as he walks which partially - but not entirely - covers the silver-marked blade at his back bearing the sigil of the King's Own. The rest of his garb is atypical even for that force; there is no plate or ring mail underneath the outer layer but a much lighter armor custom-fit for the man's physique. He peers around to catch sight of anyone present that he might already recognize but the knight doesn't seem to call attention to himself, rather keeping to the edge of the crowd until he catches what Orathy just said, then moves closer to the periphery of the man with the broken arm.

Says the she-serpent from her perch, "I'm not a historian, so we can't tell you how long people have been baking bread. But making provisions for times of war that stand up to the elements and last is almost certainly as old as conflict itself. But you aren't here for a history lesson. You're here," she says, "To learn how to make THIS." She opens the napkin and holds the thing up so people can get a look. It's a square of flat, brown material, with holes poked into it, kissed on the outside by flame. It's honestly not much to look at. "Simple enough. So why should everyone know how to do it? Because this cracker is a third of a day's rations, and so long as it is stored in a way that keeps out the pests, water, and other hazards... it will last about four years." She taps it, with a wry expression upon the barrel. "Mmmm. Yummy. Only three ingredients. Water. Salt. And flour. And tonight, those of you brave souls who wish to demonstrate your worth, will make HARDTACK. Call forth your name if you would test yourself!"

THOKTHOKTHOK goes the biscuit, which has the consistency of a stone.

Ford smirks at the demonstration of the rock hard bread-not-bread and calls out, "Kennex is ready to make some fucking bread!"

Lyiana smiles and tapps Orathy's arm as he snarks to her, smiling as her fingers press delicately into his good arm. When she sees him flapping or trying to flap, his broken one, she shakes her head very slightly. Leaning into Orathy's arm, her hair brushes his forearm. Watching the gathering, Lyiana does not yet move forward, her eyes watching instead of lingering other places. Even though her sleeves are rolled up, it is more for if she wants to join rather than if she does.

Maximilian picks up a biscuit - and without much fanfair, starts to nibble at it idly. He's a sailor. This? THis is fresh! This is tastey! "My god." He says after a moment, then spits it out. "I can't believe I ate this shit."

When he spies Lyiana - being on the fringes doesn't seem to keep the keen-eyes woodsman from spotting her, Fiachra raises a hand to her in greeting. Acacia's nod is returned as his eyes slide over to her, and then he shrugs to his sister. "A bit unsure on the details, not like I've done this before. I'm sure Princess Donella will provide us ample instruction." He nods in the Thraxian woman's direction, just as she speaks up. Her words do have him laughing softly, though, and he calls out, "Greenmarch stands with you, Thrax!" good-naturedly.


Prince Dominic Thrax joins the get-together but keeps his distance, preferring the cool Autumn evening to people watch rather than participate, still reeling back from the last Thrax party. His massive pig companion drops to its belly next to Dominic, uninterested of those around him. Using his long spear like a staff to support him as he leans into it. He watches the gathering idly raising from his wandering when Donella's voice rings out, listening to her begin her demostration. His attention splitting briefly to look at Max and the others testing the rations.


Alis recognizes Acacia of course, and after not having spent time with her since that tournament what feels like years ago, her somber expression actually brightens a little. "It's good to see you." she offers the other woman, inclining her head politely before she starts to roll up her sleeves. Well, his sleeves. But she's wearing them. So there! "I think we have to watch Princess Donella and perhaps Count Max first, and then do what they do. So we don't fuck it up." she decides, bluntly, looking over at Eirlys. The call for volunteers to call forth their name is met bravely with an "Valardin is ready to make ... whatever the hell that is!" The hair makes it near impossible to give a fake name, alas.

Acacia divvied up an amiable grin aside towards Tikva at her words, but focused wholeheartedly upon Donella at the explanation. The biscuit, or perhaps the sound, garners a loft of her brows and an exhaled chuckle. Swinging her focus askance towards Orathy and Rainier, she casually and very politely issues towards Alis, "Princess Alis. It's been a very long time. Might I suggest a friendly wager to enliven things? There's so many people here. I don't know. A test of skill from those who don't do this on a daily basis-- Oh. And is that Sir Rainier?" There's an innocent blink as she regards him and who he's set each other by. "Perhaps you could ask if he'd want to participate?"

Tikva considers for a heartbeat, glancing around. Her eyes warm with her smile and she chirps out: "I think ... that Riven is ready to make some bread? But it probably won't fuck."

"Acacia Culler will participate," Acacia calls in addition.

No, Rainier doesn't offer his name to the woman proclaiming the virtues of that bread but he certainly *studies* it from a distance at least before he makes his way somewhat closer. "Do you ever look before you leap, friend?" he asks Orathy on the way over, though, even if he doesn't actually look straight at the man. "Milady", he then asks as he raises his voice however, "do you think a few pieces can be spared for those of us who wish to have a taste of what you are making, first?" The bearded knight stops there although Acacia mentioning him by name does catch his attention and he turns to look at the woman, bowing his head in deference or greetings - it is hard to say which of the two.

Donella says, "Soak it in some broth, man. You'll recover. Eventually. If you don't break a tooth, first."

"What're we doing?" Jackson says, stepping into the area. He had heard there was something going in this part of town, but didn't rightly hear what. "If there's a need for volunteers for something, I'll gladly toss my hat into the pile, aye." the Argento-sworn man says aloud, though with no real idea what he's signing up for as he closes in the group.

Dagon strolls up the street and pauses as he spots his sister giving a lecture on hard ship's biscuits. Smiling faintly, he crosses his arms, one wrapped up in bandages, and smiles. "Oh this should be interesting." He says to the young Eurusi woman who stands beside him. He doesn't call out to participate though, simply lets his gaze bounce between the people who are volunteering themselves.

Maximilian points to Dagon. "Prince Dagon - good to see you. I'm glad you will be cooking. Step up to the line please." YEs. Maximilian Darkwater just voluntold his Prince.

"Reckon I be watching, ye be the doin. We'll need some of us to learn this," the implications of Orathy's tone is one of dire need to pick up the skills of making hardtack, "Reckon ye have more of a purpose to learn it than these folks with their fancy meats and cheeses..." He side glances at some that look pretty even in their 'clothes' that they didn't like. And it's when he's glancing around, he picks up on movement coming his way, "Mm. This should be entertainin..." And then Rainier is there, offering the comment and he pbbts, "Aye, I do. Jus sometimes when a man is needin of coin like ye blokes don't be knowin it, he does things in a hurry. Aye, if I wouldn't waited though, for em to knock down the door - wouldn't be standing here with a broken arm or a full belly." He reaches out to clap Rainier on the square of his back as he passes, a respect thing and gratitude thing.

3 Inquisition Confessors arrives, following Alistair.

Eirlys settles next to Alis and Fiachra and says. "Yes let's make whatever the hell this is!" She offers back, she even has her hair braided so that it curls around her head to keep it out of her face.

"Sir Rainier?" Alis glances around to seek him out and gesture him over with a beseeching expression. Cause misery loves company. "Well, that sounds intriguing. What would be the wager then, Goodwoman Acacia? I am sure that Lady Eirlys and Lord Fiachra would like to participate in the fun as well." Again, misery. She smiles brightly at the two Greenmarchers.

A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. Or so Donella seems content to carry on in the face of with smile given toward her brother. "Don't be shy, now. It's only bread. A miraculous bread that is a multitasks for the whole family!" She stands up and uses the edge of said biscuit, to pry up the lid of a crate full of flour sacks, and to knock the top of a water barrel off. "Lets begin, shall we? All ready? Then join us in the kitchen..." and she motions the competitors through!

A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. Or so Donella seems content to carry on in the face of with smile given toward her brother. "Don't be shy, now. It's only bread. A miraculous bread that is a multitasks for the whole family!" She stands up and uses the edge of said biscuit, to pry up the lid of a crate full of flour sacks, and to knock the top of a water barrel off. "Lets begin, shall we? All ready? Then join us in the kitchen..." and she motions the competitors through!


As people start to volunteer, Dominic looks down to his pig for a moment before looking up to catch Dagon join the competition. He studies the man for a moment before exhaling deeply and raising his hand to let Max know he would be joining, "Dominic." Dominic says and joins the line. His pig left behind.


Within a crowd it might be easy to lose sight of Rainier for, other than the leaf-green cloak which just so happens to cover most of him - only a hilt protrudes over his shoulders to distinguish him from any other - but Orathy does seem to track him down readily enough and he turns to fix a curious stare at the other man. "But you cannot stop jumping?" he asks him with a faint smile around his lips which an careful enough observer might notice is reflected in his eyes as well. "You are an interesting one, my mostly disabled new friend." He bows before Alis though and greets the lady when she addresses him. "Princess, it is good to see you, as always." he says. "Are you looking to expand your gastronomic vocabulary today?"

Charlemagne the Unicorn arrives, following Larissa.

"Oh, I don't know. Lord Fiachra plus Sir Rainier against Lady Eirlys and Princess Alis -- as a kind of... who can make the best hardtack." Acacia casts a semi-dubious look towards the barrels of flour and then towards the spot on the ground where the biscuit had resounded so memorably. Humbly, or faux-humbly, she places a hand to her chest, "It would be good for the people to see it being done. Leading by example. I don't know. It's different. And fun, your Highness. And maybe... messy." Her eyes dart towards Tikva again, before she repeats quite chipperly, "What's the worst that can happen?"

Lyiana smiles at Orathy and it holds a hint of sadness in it, before it brightens. "Of course," she murmurs, standing and watching for now. "It seems a bit harder than it looks, however." She doesn't quote on the nobility, respect is everything for her, but she does watch, emerald greens shimmering in her face as her gaze roams over the participants of the game. Small hands are clasped at her waistline, and she stands straight beside the big man with the broken arm, hair falling over one shoulder as she tilts her head to get a better look.

"Losers have to eat the hardtack?" Acacia additionally suggests.

"Cooking?" Jackson blinks, upon realizing just what he has signed up for. But he steps up with the rest of the competitors anyways. "I know how to burn water, so I'd say I'm just well enough equiped to trip and stumble my way through this, aye?" he grins. "Eaten plenty of hardtack in my time at sea, never quite knew how to make it. But! I suspect I'll make a right embarrassment of myself, so sounds like fun!"

"They would have to dip it in broth," Lyiana adds. "No one should crack their teeth on that thing."

Ford makes his way up to the 'kitchen'. Doing rather well to ignore the arrogant crowing of those lambasting people willing to get their hand's dirty. He looks around to see his other competitors, getting a measure for their moxy.

Maximilian nods to Dominic - pointing then to the other players. "Step on up." SAys Maximlian. "You're either making food, or bricks for fortifications. EIther is useful."

Acacia peers towards Lyiana for only the quickest of moments, before aggreably smiling, "Of course, love." She similarly steps up with the others.

On the outskirts of the little Compact exercise in supply management and House bonding a band of the Inquisition stands and watches. Alistair's eyes slowly sweep along the crowd as they go about getting ready to make Thrax quality hard tack. One of his Confessors, a man larger then even Alistair, chews something and spits on the ground as he eyes the flower Donella shows off. "Not enough weavels..." he remarks in a Thraxian accent. Alistair for his part only glances to his underling, making no comment one way or another.

Lyiana gives Acacia a small grin.

Eirlys goes to the kitchen though makes sure Alis and Fiachra are coming with her before looking around. She looks like she is ready to compete as well as make whatever the hell it is they are making.

Fiachra shakes his head. "It can't be any worse than half the shit I've eaten when hungry." Though he's looking dubiously as the ration as he says that, before he asks Acacia, "How exactly do we tell which is the best one?" He's also stepping up with the others, though.

Teeth flashing in a wide grin back at Acacia, Tikva bobs a little nod. She reaches up to pull her hair back only to find it too short to really pull back effectively, and shakes her head with an easy shrug. "Right," she says. "And there's always the possibility that it could be used as a projectile in certain combat capacities if it's not effective as rations," she adds as she steps forward on quick, short strides to join the other competitors. Her eyes keep laughing even though she has spent no ore breath on doing so.

"And you, Sir Rainier." Alis smiles briefly, as they would have known each other from her time training as a knight. "Boys against girls? I accept." She winks at Fiachra and then slips her arm through Eirlys's. "Let's make sure they lose and have to eat this crap." She doesn't bother whispering of course as she steps up into the 'kitchen'.

Donella says, "Now, now, you make worm-castles your way... No others to compete, just for a lark?"

Maximilian calls out... "Remember folks! It's all fun and games, but this is a fund raiser of sorts, for Princess Donella and Black Mountain, as we gather supplies for the coming war! If you wish to donate, speak to Donella after the game!"

"Water from a stream would turn to rotting plague under my care, milady." Rainier tells Acacia cautiously and not without a degree of trepidation, even concern that someone might make him cook anything. "My kin would rather disinherit than let me into the kitchens to create rather than consume; ask them." Spotting Tikva there he bows before the former Laveer to greet her. "Some present might attest to the fact. I assure you - there is no food I would not destroy." He peers at Alis afterwards though, clearing his throat diplomatically at her.

Orathy raises his good shoulder, "Sometime reckon a situation needs a jump... I ain't fearful of jumping. Ya just learn not to look down or at least, soak yer fall properly. T'were too far into unforgiving sand, eh." His brow lifts at the title that he receives from Rainier, "Aye. Reckon we should converse a bit over a few things, after 'n such." And then the man is off doing noble-ish stuff, so his attention swings back to Lyiana. "Suppose we can jus watch it... Everythin be a game to 'em folks eh? Not so, not so. A man fighting on an empty stomach knowin that if he do this thing or do that thing, he can get by the turd who be keeping him from his meal." His thick arm slings around Lyiana, watching Acacia with a smirk.

Alis puts her hands on her hips and stares at Rainier. "You wouldn't want to disappoint yoru favorite former knight in training would you?" She's not above pulling that, no. Even though she was quite likely never his favorite knight in training. Ever. At all.

"Surely you won't deny the Princess Alis' worthy wager. It's for a good cause after all, Sir Rainier," Acacia implores towards Rainier, only stacking onto the woman's words already, without a hint of shame and even a deferrential inclination of her head to go with it. She slides a look over towards Fiachra, the bridge of her nose wrinkling slightly. "Well-- I imagine... perhaps Count Maximilian or the Princess Donella might be able to judge given their experience. Or, you can find another member, unbiased, to judge. Such as someone of the Princess Alis' choosing.


Dominic walks over to the kitchen, flashing a toothy grin. He nods back to Max and situates himself where he needs to be. His eyes glance over to those present and playing in the game before returning to the front to gather the materials."


Maximilian tips his head to Dominic.

Sighing, Dagon moves forward. "Fine, I'll participate, but if I bleed all over my biscuit, you're the one that has to eat it" He gestures for his companion to go and see to her own tasks while he continues forward and studies the others who are participating. "Princess Alis, it's always a pleasure to see you out and about. Good luck making your biscuit."

Round 1: Gather Supplies

Under fire and under siege are the last places a cook wants to be caught. But it can be exciting! Children are dressed in savage clothing and told to make it hard for the cooks to get from their cooking stations to the supplies. They've set up a small obstacle course between the stoves and the sacks of salt, wheat and buckets of water. It's like running a gauntlet! Try not to kill the children to make your biscuits.

Dex + Athletics, Dodge, or Brawl

OR

Wits + leadership, intimidation or manipulation.

Larissa comes in just as the fun is beginning and offers up a brilliant smile and a nod of her head here and there. She clasps her hand behind her back and steps lightly through the crows until she found a seat that allowed her to view the games unhindered.

Acacia checked dexterity + dodge against difficulty 15, resulting in 28, 13 higher than the difficulty.

Tikva checked dexterity + athletics against difficulty 15, resulting in 31, 16 higher than the difficulty.

"Watch and be amazing, Lords, ladies and gentlemen as I craft some of the finest hardtack to ever grace your eyes." Ford says.

From behind a tarp, a legion of small children in furs and faux savage clothing charge! AAHHHHHHHAAHHHRRRRHHHH!

Dagon checked dexterity + athletics against difficulty 15, resulting in 44, 29 higher than the difficulty.

Fiachra checked wits + leadership against difficulty 15, resulting in 30, 15 higher than the difficulty.

Dominic checked dexterity + athletics against difficulty 15, resulting in 16, 1 higher than the difficulty.

Alis checked wits + leadership against difficulty 15, resulting in 49, 34 higher than the difficulty.

Ford checked wits + leadership against difficulty 15, resulting in 37, 22 higher than the difficulty.

Eirlys checked dexterity + dodge against difficulty 15, resulting in 42, 27 higher than the difficulty.

Alistair checked composure against difficulty 15, resulting in 15, 0 higher than the difficulty.

Tikva ducks her head in an answering courtesy to Rainier, her smile hooking sidelong at him as she says, "I'm sure that we will do great honor to the strength of your stomach today, Sir." Of course, then it is time for the charge! She lets out a little squeal of laughter -- yes, really, she has no dignity -- and barrels forward into the fray, leaping and dodging with acrobatic energy as she moves to run the gauntlet with features lit with plain, energized delight.

Rainier continues to look at Alis for a few moments longer before he grins at her. "There is no woman born I have met yet not managed to disappoint just yet, Princess." he tells her, "so you would be in excellent company." He squints his eyes at Acacia double-teaming him in this mattr but that's when Orathy - of all people! - comes to his rescue after a fashion. "The problem has never been the leap but that abrupt stop at the bottom, no? That, and I would very much like to know what I risk myself for if I were you... but I am not. You have to be that person." His smile is fleeting but looks sincere before he adds, "Yes, we will talk. Has the Lord Commander gotten hold of you yet?"

Jackson checked dexterity + athletics against difficulty 15, resulting in 35, 20 higher than the difficulty.

Alas even the amusing charge of feral and savagely dressed children, acting as brigands and waylayers to the noble cooks and chefs, is not enough to break the stern man of the Inquisition. Alistair watches the theatrics... and when one of the kids seems intent on running circles around him the man only glances down and then reaches out a hand to clap on the whelp's head and then direct his charge towards... Dominic!

The kid, his fury given direction, lets out a might Raaaaaaaaagh! And charges at Dominic to then run around the Thraxian.


Dominic does not move with too much hurry, gathering what he can and sometimes spending too much time to read the labels of some of the material. Perhaps his mind going back to his quartermaster days as a smile creeps on his face. He manages though and with all the supplies on the table before him, he prepares for the next part.

Acacia had started off ahead of the rest with that evasive streetworthy dodging, but it wasn't long until she stood still staring at the legion of small children rushing out. Her mouth gaped open in fascinated awe, before her near-failure to assemble supplies was clear and obvious. "Blessed be," she utters, clapping a hand to her mouth and immediately laughing. She gets utterly bounced around the crowds and by the time she might achieve some of the supplies -- it's undoubtedly the bottom of the barrel and she's gained more than a few bruises as accessories.

An impressive display of commanding prowess, Ford Kennex manages to sway several of the fake savages to his side, to run off and gather supplies for him. This affords him time to prep his station for incoming goods. It cuts down on spatial management, delegation.

Donella explains as the children charge, "The ratio is 6 parts flour, to one part water, and a palm full of salt! But I warn you, if you treat dough disrespectfully... Well lets just say that we have veterans who get to make the sound of one hand clapping at all our military reviews."

"Kennex, I'm outnumbered over here." Fiachra calls, to Ford. "Help a man out." Considering the way that Acacia, Alis and Eirlys have sided against him in this whole battle of the rations. It's really not fair. he also seems to just decide to swat some of the little "savages", considering his own heritage as a prodigal, and attempts to set them against the women as he gathers up supplies.

Or rather, he's swaying the kids to his side.


Dominic chuckles at the children, pushing them away with a playfulness that is energized by the ferocity of the kids. Coming back, he spends way too much playing with them when he should be gathering supplies. Still he manages to break away from the games to the task at hand.


Surely Rainier remembers her well enough to know what's next, right? Alis makes a face at him for not agreeing to participate, so instead she rounds on Dagon. Oops, he said hello to her. "Prince Dagon. How nice to see you.. W... oh, nevermind. Fia is attempting to waylay Marquis Ford to assist him in not losing the bet." And then... the obstacle course. To which at first she looks horrified by the horde of children, before clapping her hands together sharply. "HALT!" And then pointing them towards the supplies instead. "Go measure the ingredients, please. I'll pay you a wage to do so?" As she tries gathering supplies.

"Gather spies, Greenmarch! Pilfer from the others. Come now, think on your feet!" He chides, already starting to gather his supplies and sort them appropriately to portion everything out, so that all he needs to do is start mixing.

Larissa starts laughing and clapping at the sight if savage children rushing all the contestants and the various ways they try to deter the little heathens.

Like a man used to being on a ship all his life, Jackson moves more like a liquid and less like a solid, bucking, weaving and swerving out of children's way in an effort to get from one point to the other. And then he has to listen to the insturction of how to put together said biscuits. So getting his attention pulled in more than one directions. "Surf and sands!" he laughs aloud, being bucked around by the errant child or two.

Orathy lingers on the fringe of the event with Lyiana, neither participating, but at least observing. Whatever Lyiana says to him, he nods once for the group of squealing kids, a faint smirk left on his face. To Rainier Orathy offers, "First fuckin thing ya gotta make sure ya don't do is fall! Reckon I didn't think there'd be no floor on the otherside of the door." He gives a good hard laugh, "Cost of business." There's a lowering of his smile as he nods, "Risks matter less when you have less reasons to fear death eh. I got reward enough fer the risk." He nods, "Aye. He did." And he does try to leave the man to do some baking or whatever the rest of them are up to.

Eirlys gives a feral grin at her brother. "Ford you should let him on your side. He is going to need the help." She offers as she teases her brother. "I am going to kick your ass in this Fia!" She says. Before she starts to gether things that are needed, listening to how to put it together, she makes sure she and Alis have a spot to start working.

One Savage child goes screaming past Maximilian: AHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA it calls out, waving a bottle of rum. Max casually leans over and yoinks the bottle, to take a drink while showing Donella the clipboard.

Rainier gives Tikva a quick but serious-looking nod, preparing perhaps to say something else before the girl launches herself forward along with everyone else. "... I do not understand how this helps make food." he murmurs, seeming somewhat out of his element now as everyone else joins some sort of brawl. "How peculiar." He gets out of the way though, stepping to the side then back before he gets trampled or treaded on by this sudden crowd of attendants. "Master Orathy, this is one of the occasions I was referring to; the better part of valor sometimes is..." There goes Alis, too, off with the rest. "... it is considering the distance to the floor before you climb upon the roof."

Lyiana watches the little savages, or lack there of, dodge and weave around the participants. Is that Fraiya? A little girl zooms nearly to Lyiana's side before she ducks back into the fold, giggling as she has managed to steal Lyiana's hair ribbon.

Dagon seems to navigate the obstacle course of savage children with practiced ease, weaving around them and exertly dodging them without pushing any away or touching any of them. His gaze flicks around to the other competitors to see how they are faring with these little brats. Finally collecting all of his ingredients, he takes a few breaths and waits for the next bit of instructions.

Calandra arrives at the gathering while adorned in thick dark cloak for winter. The hood is drawn up over her dark locks. Her dress is charcoal gray and made of common clothe. She glances over the area, trying to get a sense of the situation. A polite smile that brings forht her dimples is given to those she knows.

Ford is such a bleeding heart. He sends several of his minion out to go fetch things for Fiachra.

"Oooooh, look at her go!" Donella says in praise of Alis who manages to churn out a mighty portion of dough, followed by Dagon and Eirlys. No piece of bread is going to tell them what to do! And so long as there are moderately civilized children pretending to menace them, should they try this again, they should be alright. "Perhaps the Inquisitor ought to defend the bread lines, rather than supply them.. Err... Mistress Culler, are you alright over there?" Her dough has become so sticky that it takes significant effort to free her hands.

Maximilian tsks quietly, but contents himself with his rum.

One of the Confessors mumbles something about a flour ration that might be proposed by the Iron Guard or the Assembly of Peers, Alistair glancing over to his underling as the games still continue. For a moment the Inquisitor looks over to the Whispers who have appeared, inclining his head to Larissa and Calandra.

Orathy considers Rainier's retort, chuckling at the chaos, "Not all of us be having the thought of consequence when there be a thing needing doing and swiftness of the action nets the reward. A moment of thinkin can mean yer dead sometimes tooo-" he speaks with the man despite the other's attempt at competing in this contest. He's standing back with Lyiana, left arm in a sling, chuckling at the children's screams as they sabotage the cooks.

Larissa smiles at Calandra when she enters and waves her over just as a fresh peel of laughter spills from her lips as she watches Dagon "How do you imagine he's gotten so good at maneuvering around children?" she wonders with a hitch of her lips as she looks up and notices Alistair, a nod of greeting returned to him.

Round 2: Cookin' with ... not Gas.

NOw you have the supplies. It's time to mix em and burn em. The good thing about Hard Tack is its hard to screw up. The bad thing is, its sticky and tacky as hell. It makes working with the material hard. Get it? Hard. Tack? Hah. Cooking is funny. Now you have to get the goods mixed on the double time! Get your pans filled and in the oven before the others! Work with your helpers, your kitchen crew to get this done.

Endurance + agriculture, Alchemy or performance.

OR

Command + ettiuqette, seduction or teaching.

"My dough brings all the people to the... yeah no. Doesn't matter how much I make it isn't going to taste good." Alis started out singing, ends up shaking her head. But at least she gives Donella a thumbs up. That's right! Who can mix flour and water and salt together and has two thumbs? SHE CAN!

Calandra's attention settles upon Alistair. She as a warm smile for the Inquisitor that touches her dark eyes and brings her dimples to bloom. She then notices Larissa, seemingly happy to come to her side. "Softest Whisper." She says and tries to brush her lips over her cheek in a greeting. Then Calandra spots the Cullers, Acacia and Orathy are given a happy smile.

Fiachra pauses to make a rude gesture in the direction of his sister, probably a bit more stickily than really intended since he's attempting to actually follow the instructions. Ford is given a grin and a call of, "I owe you a drink later!" as his supplies are supplemented by helpful little savages. He has to just -stare- at Alis for a moment, then, and shakes his head, amused.

Alis checked command + teaching against difficulty 15, resulting in 22, 7 higher than the difficulty.

Acacia checked command + etiquette against difficulty 15, resulting in 12, 3 lower than the difficulty.

Dagon checked command + teaching against difficulty 15, resulting in 30, 15 higher than the difficulty.

Tikva checked stamina + performance against difficulty 15, resulting in 14, 1 lower than the difficulty.

Rainier pauses momentarily as the crowd swells and shifts around him - there is too much happening and the knight doesn't seem particularly fond of it, but he does catch the other man's reply. "I know." he acknowledges with an impatient twist of his lips. "I have noticed it as well. But if I perish I would rather it happened after I make a conscious decision recognizing the risk rather than falling for nothing at all. Lives should not be lightly thrown away when they can make a difference." He meets the other man's eyes and adds, "Yours, too. That is why I sent that letter. Consider the possibility of lending us a hand, Master Orathy."

Eirlys checked command + etiquette against difficulty 15, resulting in 26, 11 higher than the difficulty.

Jackson checked command + etiquette against difficulty 15, resulting in 13, 2 lower than the difficulty.

Fiachra checked command + etiquette against difficulty 15, resulting in 19, 4 higher than the difficulty.

Ford checked command + etiquette against difficulty 15, resulting in 17, 2 higher than the difficulty.

Dominic checked command + seduction against difficulty 15, resulting in 16, 1 higher than the difficulty.

Lyiana stands silently with Orathy, murmuring to him occasionally and looking serous.

"I erm--" For the time being, Acacia forgets the correct form of address. She ended up sidling up closer towards Alis' station, if only to try to utilize the Princess' own outstanding command for her own purposes. With only the greatest effort, does she managed to remove one of her hands from her semi-catastrophe currently ongoing. A cloud of flour (at least one of those missing parts) plumes into the air, snowing on anyone who had the misfortune to be near her. Poor Tikva. "I think I need more water," she mumbles, before she knocks over that container of salt into Jackson's station. Sliding a look to either side of her, she huffs out a dark breath and stares towards the oven with unshielded animosity. It looks like she can't get it off her hands enough to force it into a pan.

What Tikva is mainly successful at is making a mess. It's amazing how much of a mess she manages to make. Her toddler would be proud of the amount of sticky, tacky dough she has somehow managed to get in the bright fluff of her red hair. She's laughing too hard to perform well under pressure is the real problem.

Eirlys gives a rude gesture back to her brother not caring who sees. When Alis sings she tries to say. "To the table?" She offers but then laughs. "Yeah no it's not going to matter." She buckles down and start to work with Alis to get this going.

Ford took efforts to prepare his station, and it's paying off. Each of the portions are placed in and oh that dough is kneaded like a bad habit. Rolled, tumbled, and slapped against the table. Flour floofs everywhere, coating the Marquis and probably those around him as well. But all in the name of being the best at bread. Best bread maker. Best ever. Get out of my face you pretenders.

Alis sees that look, Fiachra, and just bats her eyelashes in an entirely unconvincing manner. Because he knows her too well for that ploy to work. But right! //Work//. She studiously follows the instruction to fill pans with dough. She also hip-bumps Acacia playfully when the woman spies their workstation for tips, and then beams at Eirlys. "Somehow, I doubt even that. Did you hear the sound the biscuits made when they were knocked against something?"

Orathy follows Rainier's words, incredibly, through the other conversations and the action that swells and ebbs and flows around the other man. He was stationary for the most part, beside Lyiana, unmoving as he watched with a solemn reverence at the scene, or maybe it was in response to Rainier's poised words. "Aye and what bleamin difference can a poor wretch make, don't ya have enough tuffed up plumped up peacocks up thar prancing around trying to change the word eh?" He catches Rainier's look, his nostrils flaring under the stare as he instinctively presents a stand taller and straighter, arm still clipped tightly around Lyiana's small waist, "Aye, I be doin that. S'why we're talkin."

"Right. Uh..." Jackson got to this point, which didn't seem so hard, but the moment he gives everything else infront of them, his seems to start to blink. There's a vague idea on what to do, he's not completely flailing about and lost. Just mostly so. This may been in apart to the....ah, 'unique' method that Dominic is taking care of that dough. "Really gettin into that, eh?" he says over to the man. "Think of the children."

Eirlys laughs as she is easily putting her stuff together, getting it ready for the oven and she nods. "I heard the noise. I figure if they can't be eaten then at least you could kill the enemy with them?" She offers. "I mean I am pretty sure you can crack a head open with one." She says as she puts her stuff up.

Lyiana stands stolidly in Orathy's grasp as it tightens around her waist, a possessive action that is not lost on her. She shifts her head to one side, watching the festivities as her smile is wide and gentle. The little girl who took her hair ribbon runs past and hands it back, sulky, "Fraiya said she'd hurt me if I didn' give it back." She pouts and Lyiana drops the ribbon back into the girl's hand. "Keep it, love, go run do your job."

This must be a dream for an Inquisitor. So many inappropriate statements and quotes to take out of context. Perfect blackmail material. 'So Lord... you said to the married woman... spank it... spank it... I believe there are witnesses. Yes. It is just a child but still a witness.' Alistair motions to one of his Confessors... who departs. Perhaps to get a notebook to write down all the names and the love talk directed towards dough.


There is a thing about Dominic, he is slow like a dingy lost at sea. With the dough set infront of him he begins to work it with his large hands. Really digging his fingers in and using some distance massaging technique he discovered somewhere far in the Mourning Sea. His gaze comes up to flash a chuckle toward Jackson before returning to the business at hands, "I am just getting started." He says jokingly and begins to apply the bottom of his palm, the dough giving a little moan to his magic hands.


Donella oversees the action, coughing as the flour mushroom cloud of Acacia wafts in front of her. And over her. Its a good thing she likes gray so much. And hey, preview of what she'll look like in thirty years. "Firm, yet... er, yielding. Dagon! Who knew you were so good at this? Do you remember when we used to throw them at each other at grandfather's direction. Ah! How we laughed and laughed. And all the baby teeth came out early!" Donella boondoggles Max's rum to pour a little over her biscuit. "Wow. That escalated quickly," she observes.

He isn't as fast, and nowhere near as neat - Fiachra's freckles seem to have been flour-dusted a little bit, but hey, he's getting that dough into the pans at least. He calls, to Eirlys, "Starting to wonder if I should start topping my arrows with this instead. You know, for science." Alis' batted eyelashes just get a snort in response, before he's looking sidelong at Dominic. That is so wrong. His expression says it all.

Max passes the rum over... "I... I never want to watch Dominic cook again. At least his pigs arn't here."

Orathy's eyes catch on movement to the side, his gaze holding to the Inquisitor, Alistair. There's no telling the reason that Orathy's gaze wanders and settles on the man, it just does. Then he's turning to look over at Lyiana, with the ribbon and the girl, "That's mighty fine of Miss Lyiana. You beg her pardon and thank her." He does know manners, just chooses when to use them, evidently.

Dagon seems to be paying attention to the instructions, he mixes the dough, fills the pans and kneads that dough like a cat making biscuits on it's owner's belly. Knead, knead, knead. Those instructions must have been really good. Sometime in between all that expert kneading he manages to get his oven prepared too. Where did the time go? "Yes, and I plan on taking this one home and throwing it at Margot for not preventing me from coming here to make biscuits." He responds to DOnella, too busy with his dough to smile at her.

Jackson's oven begins to belch a sickly gray smoke.

The Thraxian Confessor lets out a grunt, "I think that dough just moaned..." He remarks, eyeing Dominic as if he cast some particuarly foul and black magic. Dough magic. Forbidden by gods and fiends both. Alistair simply lets out a slight grunt, his arms folding infront of his chest as he watches the insanity play out before him.

Lyiana smiles at the little girl, who yells, "Pardon me Mistress," before running back into the fray, giggling. "Thank you!" the child yells belatedly.

Alis side-eyes Dominic and the dough, her brow furrowing in concern. Did he asks the dough for permission to do that first? Fortunately, she is then distracted. "Yes, you should top at least a few arrows with this stuff. I bet if you soaked it in oil and lit it on fire..." she adds.

Eirlys looks at her brother and gives that evil little sister grin. "Well at least then you'd have something hard to you know really get into someone." She then turns to act like she never said that at all as she continues to work on the dough and making the biscuits.

The light hip-bump from Alis prompts a good half of that measly bit Acacia had left to tumble to the flour-strewn cobbles. Unable to hide her wince and that leaking groan, she scoops it up and simply slaps it back together like sticky, dirty clay. Rolling it around upon the salt for a bit more, for all the good that will do, she casts eyes behind her at the Dominic and then ends up joining Tikva in her laughter. She clears her throat a bit at Donella's present appearance and evasively utters to the Scout beside her, "My Lady, look what happened to the Princess. How could you? ... We must be firm, yet yield-- Shit." As her shoulders slink with resignation, she confesses, "I have no idea what I'm doing. No one should let me cook in the futu-- Prince Dominic is very enthusiastic, isn't he..."

The stuff just seems to firm up like cement. But edible... arguably edible cement. Tikva's docking nail stands straight up and WON'T come out! The bread goo seems to be trying to absorb the nail's strength!

Rainier nods at Orathy again. "I am leaving." he informs the other, making no small talk of it. "I thought to learn some things about the making of rations but I will need to wait for a more opportune time." The swordsman pauses before he does what he said though and casts a long look over his shoulder at the other fellow. "What difference? Maybe small. But we are in short supply of suicidal fools and if you are going to crack your skull eventually anyway then would it not make better sense to spill your brains in service to a worthy cause than because you slipped on spilled ale in a badly lit tavern?" he asks with a little grin. "Consider it and find me with the answer if you have one." With that he turns again to depart.

"Hey..." says one of the helpers to Jackson. "You, ah, might want to get that." He taps on the Captain's shoulder, signaling him to the over.

"Eh?" Jackson was too busy trying to knead dough in a fashion that is something akin to punching a side of beef. Where Dominic is tender in his subtle caresses, Jackson is less so. More 'I'm gonna put you in my basement' kind of loving. But that's when he looks to the side at the over. And then blinks. "Ah! MY SWEET LOAVES" he says running over to the oven and trying to pull them out before too much damage has been done to them. So, some people like their biscuits fluffy and moist. Apparently, he's the sort that likes his toasted.

Really toasted.

Alis doesn't even bat an eyelash when she arches a brow and looks over at Eirlys. "I assure you, he doesn't have any problems with that as is." she quips, doing her best to.. well, however one is supposed to properly shape biscuits and put them on pans. That's what she's doing.

Orathy squeezes Lyiana but steps away from her to follow Rainier, "Ye got me curious. I had thought ta learn too, but, broken arm and all this..." he nod tips toward the chaos, "Another day mind." A clearing of his throat, "Would like ta no more about it..."

Tikva squints very closely at the docking nail. She picks at it with a fingertip and then attempts to suck salt and flour from her finger without really thinking about what she's doing. Making a face, she then wipes her hands on her skirts with predictable results. More mess! "I'm pretty sure that I'm not so much making a bread as I am making a murder implement," she puts forward generally, in case anyone is listening.


Dominic exhales deeply looking at the prepared dough, "Sometimes all a sailor has as a friend is a piece of dough." He says as he loads the material into the oven. He turns to prepare the other ingridients.


Joslyn strides into the area to see what all this hubbub is about. Holding a fur lined cloak tightly around her, she looks around the area, looking for a good place to sit down and watch the spectacle.

Really, Eirlys? Fiachra pinches off a bit of the dough - at least it is NOT the fully baked biscuit, and lobs it expertly at his sister. Plop, right against the nape of her neck. Maybe even into the neckline of her shirt. Ewwww.

Round 3: Stacking up.

Things are coming out of the oven now and its starting to back up in the packing area. You need to work with the kitchen crew and get the product into safe packaging so it can be shipped to the soldiers without spoiling. But because everything is sped up, it's all the harder. Flip the pans, pound out the tack (this may take effort), wrap it in the paper and tape it closed then send it down the line to be boxed up with the others! Hurry hurry hurry! Try not to get flour everywhere as you do this. And also...

Watch out for those shav-kids, because they are trying to steal what you made! How many can you get packaged?

Dex + your choice of skill

OR

Charm + your choice of skill!

Raaaaaaarrrrrrrghhhh!"

Acacia checked charm + streetwise against difficulty 15, resulting in 56, 41 higher than the difficulty.

Calandra waves toward Joslyn from where she stands close to the softest whisper.

Tikva checked dexterity + performance against difficulty 15, resulting in 45, 30 higher than the difficulty.

Eirlys checked dexterity + dodge against difficulty 15, resulting in 45, 30 higher than the difficulty.

Alis checked charm + leadership against difficulty 15, resulting in 36, 21 higher than the difficulty.

Dominic has rolled a critical success!
Dominic checked dexterity + sailing against difficulty 15, resulting in 92, 77 higher than the difficulty.

Jackson checked dexterity + streetwise against difficulty 15, resulting in 39, 24 higher than the difficulty.

SHAV KIDS: RETURN OF THE SHAV. They all scream back into the scene, roaring forward with savage yells, intent on stealing what they have been told are tasty sweet cakes.

Maximilian Darkwater: Complete liar.

Fiachra checked dexterity + archery against difficulty 15, resulting in 46, 31 higher than the difficulty.

Dagon checked dexterity + medium wpn against difficulty 15, resulting in 57, 42 higher than the difficulty.

Ford checked dexterity + medium wpn against difficulty 15, resulting in 32, 17 higher than the difficulty.

Joslyn returns the wave to Calandra and moves over to stand beside her, smiling as she leans in to whisper to the whisper.

3 Culler Lackeys leaves, following Orathy.

When the bread comes out of the oven perfectly crisp. He chops and divides the bread into neat little crackers while staving off the legions of children. It's master, it's messy, and it...sorta works.

Calandra's dark eyes are warm as Joslyn draws close. She then leans in toward the brunette, listening to her whispered words an smiling n response.

Dagon begins working with the kitchen staff to package up the biscuits, but it seems the kids want to come after his cakes. Sighing, Dagon reaches over and picks up a length of wood that's about the side of a longsword and begins to twirl it around in one hand in a loop then tosses it to his other hand to do the same, faster and faster as he takes a step towards the 'shav' kids and then back, using the whirling piece of wood to both fascinate the kids as well as keep them from coming too close to his precious, precious foodstuffs. "I am the Whirling Wonder of Winderia, expert swordsman of Eurus, which one of you dares step forward into the dancing blades for a simple bite of bread?"

"Oh, babies. Count Darkwater lied through his teeth. These are not at all tasty." See Alis' mournful face, as she tries to gather up the kiddies and press them into service for her. "If you help us, I'll make sure you bring home some pastries from Matron Telda at home. She makes the best." is promised, with an eye darted towards Sir Rhys. You have your marching orders, aide-e-sitter, go get the pastries so she's not a liar! Getting that hard tack off the pans and into the packaging however... eeeeeyah ugh.


Dominic is not too sure what came over him but perhaps in the preparation of the dough, memories from a time before he was considered a captain, a time where he had to prove himself, inspiration struck and Prince Dominic Thrax turns to children with a whistle he commonly used for his dogs. He settled them down to work along side him like the crew of a ship. With his hands stretched and warmed up, he moved with about the kitchen as if it was a ship, tending to lines and sails, swaying with the roll of the ship. The pan his helm. Just like he had to when he had mess duty.


Acacia's bread never made it in the oven; half dirt-encrusted and dropping crumbly bits here and there within her mayhem. But she's strong set on protecting her sad excuse for a bread roll and tricksy ways and stick-hand knowledge comes into effect. Perhaps it's so easy simply because no one wants to touch the thing anymore. Clutching it to her thoroughly floured front, she spins about to leans heavily against the table which proved her demise. "Finally, it's done," she utters, with a slightly envious look squinted aside towards Princess Alis and Fiachra -- and clear astonishment towards Dagon and his wooden makeshift weapon. "... Is your bread that good, your Highness?"

"Nice move." Eirlys says as she starts to remove things and package it. She moves quickly, easily. She seems to be doing pretty well which is surprising to her.

Whatever the state his bakery good might be, Jackson think at /least/ they'll be edible. Granted, not quite as much as other, but hey, food's food, amirite? But what he is good at is assembling a team to get things moving in an orderly fashion. Which isn't so different from issues orders out to a crew on a ship. Getting things packaged, pounding the tack out, flipping pans, and even putting one of his team on the lookout for slippery-fingered children. All in all, it's a much better job than actually making the damn things. Just goes to show, you can lead a sea Captain to an over, but you can't make him bake. Or something like that. Does anyone even say that?

"Probably not, but never hurts to put on a small little show for the children, eh?" Dagon murmurs over to Acacia.

One of the children, a small girl of about 7, approaches Max, looking angry. "YOU LIED! These taste like garbage!"

Max eyes the girl. "They put hair on your chest."

The girl looks horrified, and run off.

Maximilian has such a way with children.

Fiachra decides to get rid of the children bothering him the easy way; he tosses a piece quickly to the closest one as though it's an arrow, letting them then descend into chaos as they fight over it. At least until they discover just how awful the stuff truly tastes. Either way, he's left unbothered to get the tack out of the pans and properly packaged. He does spare a glance to Acacia, though, and notes, "That is one of the most frightening things I have ever seen." regarding her attempt. And the man has fought inhuman creatures.

The way Ford manages to package and separate the biscuits into individual wrappers was something of an assembly line marvel. Deft fingers and expert folding skills. Just look at the way the paper fits so snuggly against the repulsive bread. When he finishes with his packaging he claps his hands and does the dealer's turning his hands over to show that he has nothing up his sleeves.

Lyiana chuckles lightly as she moves away from the chaos, turning to move down the street. She gives a wave and her hair blows in the cold autumn wind as she walks down the path. The game is almost over, and she has come to see what she can or has seen.

Vald arrives, following Sina.

The other Confessor, decidedly not Thrax and much smaller, picks something out of his teeth as he watches Maximilian scare off children. "Attempting to poison children with improperly made food." He suggests as a possible charge to bring. The other Inquisitorial Agents give a 'hmm hmm' at the possibility. Could stick. Will probably have to bribe some kids with candy.

Alis shakes her head at Acacia and mouths the word 'No', regardless of.. aw, and there Dagon is being all honest. "It doesn't look THAT b.. okay, it looks like maybe it wasn't all that successful. But really, it's hardtack. I'm going to guess it all tastes awful no matter what it looks like." she murmurs, looking sympathetic towards the Culler woman.

Donella is nearly barreled over by the kids, again. She has to stabilize a stack of hardtack. And she may actually have broken a nail and almost a finger on them. She shakes out her hand. "Holy..buckets. Ladies a gentlemen, Prince Dominic. I know who I want on inventory-taking day. He's single, ladies!" A stack of Ford's bread makes a dry, popping sound, and sways... but doesn't topple. Damnit, Ford, you had one job...

Joslyn discretely wraps an arm around Calandra's middle, leaning against the other woman with an amused smile towards the event.

Tikva reaches up to start tugging a piece of squishy dough out of her hair, her face screwed up in a look of intense concentration.


"All it needs is a little bit of love." Dominic says about the rations as he prepares it and puts it aside. The packaging is polite and fancy, made with love and put together as she would your lunch before going off to pirate school. He glances back to Donella and then to the crowd, not too sure. Dough is love.


Eirlys is hit with dough and she yelps and pulls the dough from her neck as much as she can. "It is going down my damned shirt Fia! Good thing this is actually your shirt." She calls out but she can't quite get the dough that slid under the neckline right away. She eventually gives up and grabs a handful of flour and makes sure she is close enough so when she drops it, it is in his hair, making his hair go white. "Told you I would give you white hair before you were thirty! Never say I don't keep my promises!"

Maximilian visits each station, with his clipboard. He nods to Larissa, gesturing for her to assist him as he moves, calculating, tabulating and generally reviewing each persons performance. After he has visited each station, he gestures to Dominic, Dagon and Alis to step forward.

"The people I've called for are our top three finishers, however unlikely or at times, grossly inappropriate, those results maybe."

Sina pads in quietly from the direction of the shrines, her expression calm like still waters. Her scruffy, wild-looking lynx companion trots along with her, occasionally mewling and moving in between her feet. Sina sniffs the air, eyes curiously moving about the area. She dips her body in a respectful gesture towards Donella, but she otherwise remains on the outskirts of the scene.

"That was more then a little bit of love given to that dough." Alis mumbles, before Max going around with his clipboard and judging the relative terribleness of the finished product. She squints at him initially, as if he must be joking, but she steps forward.

Maximilian then turns to show Donella the results. "I'm as surprised as you, Princess, that in third place, we have Prince Dominic Thrax. He... was -very- efficient at the final packing stage, though I confess, the product he wrapped was... well. Route it to the agricultural program."


Dominic did not really come to compete. When Max asked for names he thought he was making a roll call for who was going to eat. Never the less, he came up top three. A side along glance and nod to Dagon and Alis as he steps forward following Max's instruction, "No means no." He says in promoting consent.

Dagon lets out a breath and puts his piece of wood down. Brushing his hands together, he makes his way over to Max and Donella and stands beside Alis and Dominic. "Congratulations, Dominic. I never knew you could pack so well. Perhaps when people need to have things packed, I will give them your name."

Alis is overheard praising Dominic for: Promoting consent is quite honorable!

Acacia had nodded firmly towards Dagon, with Alis' preemptive refusal already broadening her grin substantially. She has the gall to look directly at Maximilian despite her flour fiasco with a small smile. "You're too kind, Princess," she gratefully utters to Alis, scarcely able to keep a straight face. Larissa receives an extra wink upon her passing, "It's been a long time, Courtesan. Judge well." Glancing down to what remains of her mishap, she seeks to hide it behind her back -- it's likely she still can't remove it from her hand, really. "Not this, though." And in faux-whisper aside to Fiachra, she appeals, "At least you don't have to eat it!"

Donella says, "I'm sure that Prince Dominic's biscuits it will one day pack up a critical hole in the hull.. An probably will not kill anybody. Well done, dough-slinger."

Donella is overheard praising Dominic for: Dough-packer par excellence.

Max then continues down the line... "Princess Alis, the Iron Princess as I have called her in the past... has come in second, with a solid performance all the way down the line. It's cooks like her that will make soldiers on starvation rations wish they were dead already. But they will live, and fight on with a tragically full belly for her efforts. She has come in Second place."

Dagon is overheard praising Alis for: The Iron Chef Princess

Suddenly those Confessors and the Inquisitor are done watching. In silence the large Thraxian Confessor steps into the event, towards Dominic Thrax, to whisper with him in a quiet yet firm tone.

MAx then looks to Dagon, a little confused. "I'm frankly not sure how the hell you won, Dagon. I mean, I have the numbers, and they all add up, but I never took you as the TOP CHEF of the Thrax. Well played. First place."

Dagon is overheard praising Dominic for: Crafts and packages hull repair kits quite well.

Maximilian then turns to the crowd. "A cheer for ALL our competitors! The food they made is being added to our storehouses, and trust me, in some time... you will be grateful for it. A cheer for ALL our competitors!"

Larissa lets out a shrill whistle to the three winners, applauding both of them amid giggles that brought tears to her eyes. "Well done! Well done!" she praises them.

After flour is dumped in his hair, Fiachra proceeds to shake it loose, no doubt getting a considerable amount of the stuff on everyone who is anywhere near him. He looks like he's trying hard - very hard - to keep a straight face with all the comments floating about, especially from Dominic. Finally, he raises a hand to his face, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Though he manages an aside, to Acacia. "Thank all the spirits for that." with a grin.

Donella is overheard praising Alis for: Leadbellies love the Iron Princess!

Donella is overheard praising Dagon for: Its not luck. It's skill!

"I shall pray for every one of them." Alis tries to keep a straight face at Max's rousing extolling of the virtues of her terrible biscuits. "Such praise. I may never have another humble moment again, Count Coffee." she will even incline her head towards him before trying not to smirk.


Prince Dominic does a little bow, he was proud of his results even when things got a bit too personal. He turns to Donella, bowing his head in thanks to her compliment before turning to clap for Alis and Dagon. He glances to the Confessor and reaches for his long-spear and excuses himself to follow the Inquisitor confessor in Alistair's direction.


Alis is overheard praising Dagon for: Top Bloody Chef!

Dominic is overheard praising Dagon for: Iron Chef

Dominic is overheard praising Alis for: Iron princess

Fiachra is overheard praising Dagon for: Gordon Ramsey's got nothing on him.

Larissa is overheard praising Dagon for: Iron chef!

Dominic is overheard praising Donella.

Dagon shakes his head, shrugging slightly. "I have far more talents and skills than people give me credit for, and people seem to forget that I've served on ships. First time I served on a ship, I made sure to have the Captain assign me to a couple of days on each station. Can't very well lead a ship without knowing what people are doing, plus it helps if people see you getting your hands dirty."

Dominic is overheard praising Max.

Larissa is overheard praising Alis for: Iron Princess!

Maximilian calls out... "Now. This is a gentle reminder... that this is a fund raising event. PLease - consider helping Donella and myself, as we try to import food to feed our people - and if you have the economic resources, please offer them to be stockpiled to offset the costs of what we do."

Larissa is overheard praising Dominic for: Iron Thrax!

Dagon is overheard praising Max for: I enjoy confusing him.

Larissa is overheard praising Max for: Iron.. something else.

Dagon is overheard praising Donella for: Finally I'm better than her at one thing.

"Remember! The moral of the story," Princess Donella says, "-is that friends don't let friends or innocent children fall to eating hardtack. Support the import efforts of Black Mountain and other shipping conglomerates! A little help goes a long way!"

Acacia applauds heartily, as best as she can for the winners, crumbling bits through her own hair when she tries to sweep it back some and then dumping her concoction into the hands of a messenger to send it forth as a gift.

Acacia is overheard praising Donella.

Alistair remains at the edge of the little gathering, his hands unfolded from infront of him to clasp behind his back as Dominic approaches at the bidding of his underling. Alistair inclines his head slightly, "I would not take you for a master of Dough..." the Inquisitor remarks in his humorless tone. "I only need a moment of your time... the man motions for the Vellichorian Academy, where some privacy can be had."

Alis is overheard praising Donella.

Alis is overheard praising Max.

Calandra leans in against Joslyn, giving her a gentle smile.

Maximilian then calls out... "And one final thing..." A pause. "Can we get a round of applause for our SHAVS today?" Asks Max, as the children all file back out to take their own bows.

Joslyn returns the smile, leaning in to whisper to Calandra again.


Prince Dominic approaches Alistair and nods, "You asked for me Inquisitor." studying the man with a stern gaze only to soften his expression at the inquisitor's remark and flashing him a smile. He motions for the Academy and nods, "Yes of course. Lead the way."


Larissa watches Alistair and Dominic move off, a little wave given to the pair of them as she moves through the crowd to speak to the others. "What an unexpectedly fun evening!" she praises Max and Donella both "I think you outshined everyone.."

Donella is overheard praising Max for: As fine an event staff as one could have-- with a soft spot for the kids. Or because of the kids.

At the word 'shavs,' Sina perks up a little, eyes refocusing on the event at hand. She obliges, easily sounding off a series of claps for them - if not just for the principle of it.

Alistair doesn't react to the Abandoned Slang thrown around by Maximilian. The term rather aptly describes the little monsters. He moves off into the Academy to speak with Dominic in private.

3 Inquisition Confessors leaves, following Alistair.

Acacia readily appaluses for the children and seeks to dust herself off a bit as she straightens. Bowing a bit more formally, comically so given her state, to Alis, she remarks, "Princess Alis - you're terribly fun to be around for things like this. Thank you, once again." She carefully seeks to depart a bit back through the crowds, trailing little crumbs behind her.

Mars, the Thraxian war-pig, 2 Thrax Guards leave, following Dominic.

Alis applauds most heartily for the young children, and when Sir Rhys returns with the pasties - Matron Teldra's going to throttle her later - has him portion them out to all of them so that everyone winds up with some. Before she rejoins the Greenmarchers though, she also signs over several economic writs to both Max and Donella. Only then she she walk up near Fia and Eirlys, with flour and bits of dough on her hands and clothes, clasping her hands behind her back. "Are you both ready to go? Or are you actually going to.. try some of this stuff?"