Cillian checked strength at difficulty 7, rolling 16 higher.

Cillian checked strength + athletics at difficulty 15, rolling 25 higher.

Its a fine day for a snow row! The wind has kicked up and blows snow in skittering sheets across the green while more is piled up on the grounds to make for an interesting course! The 'boats' are all lined up and ready to go at the starting line, and Thrax has kindly provided small stations here and there that are serving hot drinks and hot snacks to help ward off the chill! Away from the course itself are braziers set up where folk can go to warm their hands and faces while they watch the fun, tended to by servants from the Thrax estate. Vega is tending to a few last details, all bundled up in her thick fur coat and with the wind putting roses in her cheeks to go with that fiery hair. She sends a few servants off to double check that the finish line stays visible to all then turns to the people gathering.

"Welcome to Thrax's first ever Snowy Seas Tournament! Today's event will include the Snow Row! Think you have what it takes to navigate your 'ship' through the stormy snowsea? Step on up and claim your spot! We will be hosting these events across the rest of the week, open to all who wish to attend or join, with prizes to be given out at the grand ball at the end of the events! To all who've come to participate or just to watch, we thank you for your support and hope this helps to lift your spirits!"

With that, Vega steps back, applauding the contestants and moving to collect a mug of hot cider from a servant nearby. She turns to greet the others that have arrived to watch the race while keeping an eye on the participants to ensure there's no last minute emergencies to delay the race.

Cillian has rolled a critical success!
Cillian checked luck + dodge at difficulty 20, rolling 49 higher.

Merek makes his way to the place where the snow row is, his cloak about his black attire wile he makes his way to where the participants will be while he does also.

Cillian checked wits + athletics at difficulty 25, rolling 12 higher.

Bonnie keeps fairly near a brazier, gloves off for some perverse reason while warming her hands and otherwise getting in brisk rubbing and foot-to-foot fidgeting to stay fully warm. And at least somewhat limbered up, too. Though at least when Vega makes the announcements she nods firmly and starts pulling those gloves back on. However cold it is there's still a big, cheerful grin in place when making her way along to where the other participants are preparing.

Minxes love games and so Monique arrives to the Snowy Seas Tournament with an eager step, wrapped in forest green, peeks of her dark leather pants showing with every step. There's a grin and an upnod to Merek as she spies him, and a bright smile to Vega, applauding the hostess back with vigor.

Alarissa is around, drenchedin the Thrax carmine and a thick black tipped fox fur lined hood. She's huddled with others who are prepared to record point and numbers, a lift of her finger in wave to those that she knows. Her own cheek pink but thankfully the Thrax Princess is near a brazier to keep warm against the blowing snow.

Decked out in leather garb and a wolf pelt around her, Scout Row shows up to the Snow Row with a soulful hound. "Pick a good one for us, Sir Floppington!" says she. The Good Boy pads forth, lightly sniffing the open boats before hopping into the Number Nine. Scout Rowenova steps up to their chosen 'ship', picks up the associated oar, and gets in with Sir Floppington behind her!

Michael has arrived at this frozen location with great trepidation. Wool is the primary component of his clothing and his cloak is immediately folded and put aside to ensure that it doesn't get worn onto the ice. He spent time with Lady Peri Seliki to discuss the importance of choosing the proper vessel. One was found and pulled out onto the ice, oar placed within and hands upon the back to propel it shortly. He is ready and roaring to go!

Carita's bundled deeply in the fur lined wool, the contrast of her dark cloak and the bright skirts of her saffron colored gown help the Countess to stand out as she remains at Alarissa's side, blue eyes focused on the gamers abound. She laughs softly as Rowenova sends marching orders for her dog, making sure to wave to any participants she recognizes.

Floofus, the fluffiest Graypeak Mountain Puppy, 2 Redwood Initiates, 2 Redwood Regulars arrive, following Ajax.

Floofus, the fluffiest Graypeak Mountain Puppy, 2 Redwood Initiates, 2 Redwood Regulars leave, following Ajax.

Floofus, the fluffiest Graypeak Mountain Puppy, 2 Redwood Initiates, 2 Redwood Regulars arrive, following Ajax.

With everything in hand and underway, Vega offers a cheery smile towards Monique before making her way over to join Alarissa and Carita, her coat of gray fur and its underlying gown of blues making the trio easy to keep separte. She offers a smile towards both women as she joins them before turning to watch the race in earnest. While she might have a bias on who she -wants- to win, not by look, word, or deed does Vega betray that bias.

Monique glances aside to Michael, and there's a smirk of her ruby-red lips to the Bisland lord. "See you at the finish line? I'll save you some hot chocolate. Might be cold by the time you get there," she teases, settling inside her 'boat'.

As everyone heads to the line, others waiting their turn for their heats, people observing further down the line are prepping as well. This is audience participation and there's supposedly... bad weather ahead for the rowers. But the personal sized low to the ground sleds that do indeed look like boats are ready and waiting and a servant of the house when everyone looks ready raises a flag and drops it as a horn is blown. OFF TO THE RACES!

Cillian is dressed in his leathers looking around he happends to spot his favorite scout, "Nova! see you at the bottom." he grins at her speaking in his thick northern shave accent. He moves to the start line and gets ready to race to the finish line.

Monique pushes off, and it's wonderful how gravity works. She's slight enough that momentum is on her side at first, and whooooosh! Down the hill the Minx of the Marches sails, bright green eyes squinted against the snow-spray, lips curled up in reckless abandon.

Bonnie picks an oar and the associated boat, eyeing it rather skeptically with a mild frown showing up. Yet, oar slung across her shoulders and hands draping over the edges, she gamely gives it a nudge to place with her boot. Breathing deep, glancing to either side at the other competitors along the line, she starts a bit at the blown horn. The oar is unslung and kept in hand when she pushes at hte boat, just setting one shoulder in and then digging her boots in against the ice to start it rolling before she grabs onto the back, slip-runs another step after it, and then hauls herself up and into the 'pilot' seat. And all without dropping the oar too, which is a pleasant surprise for herself as well.

After peering out toward the yonder course, Nova settles down in the boat sled upon her spread knees with her lower legs pressed flush to the inner walls, facing forward with Flop facing backward, so they are back to back in there. Securely stabilized inside the boat sled, she peeks over toward Carita with a tiny wave and a similar smile before also sending those same Things Cil's way, too. "See you!" Readying up the wooden oar, she waits out the flag drop along with that blowing horn, and then she pushes off! At first, it is slow going, except building momentum gradually happens. She calmly rows, doing so with a steady pace, not too frantically (yet) to not use up too much energy too soon.

Merek takes a moment to begin his first move with the snow rowing, while he settles on his boat sled, taking up rear while he maneuvers also.

Mikey and the Bisland Lion's boat of Pridehall has a good start! He hops the backend and picks up his oar to keep the thing moving. Hanging from the prow of the ship(prow right?) Is a fuzzy masquerade mask of a Lion that is getting buffeted in the wind that he is pushing his boat through!

Carita's hands, previously tucked up to the fur lining, lift to wave Rowenova's way excitedly. She's briefly distracted by a messenger, and as she's reading her letter, leans to murmur something to Alarissa and Vega, amusement sparkling in her eyes.

Michael checked strength + athletics at difficulty 25, rolling 51 higher.

A black plush lion is fling from Michael's boat across the 'waves' to Monique's boat to land in her lap. Big green eyes on the plushie plushie stare up at her.

And they're off! Some opt to run and push, others let gravity do it's job for them. Regardless, the cheering starts and through the snow that falls a plushie of a lion goes soaring, to great heights and does indeed land in the lap unexpectedly of the Greenmarcher. Oars are out for some at the ready, Bonnie and Rowenova in particular getting ready to dig in as down that steep hill everone goes and the race is on, pride is indeed on the backstretch. But unlikely is heartbreak to make an appearance.

Leaning in to catch Carita's murmur, Vega can't help but chuckle softly and offer quiet response. Straightening, she continues to watch the race, cheering for all the racers equally while sipping on her cider.

1 Crimson Blades Sergeant have been dismissed.

1 Crimson Blades Lieutenant have been dismissed.

1 Crimson Blades Private have been dismissed.

Monique catches the plushie upon her lap and laughs, taking a spray of snow in the mouth. It makes her slower to out oars and dodge the impending 'waves' that her boat hurtles towards. The laugh dies in her throat and she braces for impact, sparing just a moment to glower at the Lion man sailing by her so expertly.

Merek keeps maneuvering with his snow sled while the people move, and he shifts a bit so he can scoop some snow to throw into air while he does also.

Bonnie holds tight to the seat of the boat on its roll downwards, jaw clenched to keep her teeth from chattering due to the bumpy ride as much as the cold. A little less of a suave grin, more of a rictus-like one, though 'semi' level ground afterwards is a more productive challenge. Crouching up, she leans over with the oar to start 'rowing' after a fashion, sort of push-scooting that boat off to the side to circumvent as much of the precision movement as possible - and to pick long, straight lines where she can take a hand away from the rowing and reach into her jacket, topping off with the occasional/regular sip from a bottle kept close to her heart.

Balian, a Templar squire, Guy, a hunting kestrel, 1 Templar Knight guards arrive, following Preston.

Balian, a Templar squire, Guy, a hunting kestrel, 1 Templar Knight guards leave, following Preston.

With balanced distribution of not only human weight but also canine weight, the Nova-and-Flop boat picks up steady speed to those snow waves. With keen eyes, Nova carefully picks an efficient path which will keep them at optimal speed, going up short inclines to head down longer/steeper ones. Soon enough, the human/canine duo are deftly passing several others. She chases after Michael, but ends up oaring up a snow flurry at Ajax with a slight grin on her way by.

From the top of the hill and towards where he his now, Ajax keeps an iron grip around his oar, totally just being a wall flower as he pushes himself down the hill properly, his teeth furrowed into a snarl as he tries to keep himself moving forward, seeming to not favor anything flashy just using his muscles to row himself forward.

The lack of a plushie seems to make Michel go faster and faintly drag down monique. But nothing seems to really stop the Greenmarch Lady. Those darn lions. But Rowenova is fast on michael's heels with her added weight of floppy eared canine who seems to find no fear in the face of snow. But a dark horse of Tyde is making his way swiftly up the ranks and seems to be making his presence known.

Merek rows.

Cillian and Bonnie are not far behind, the oathlands striving thier best to not get caught up in the snow spray from everyone elses runners and Bonnie finds some success in a more smoother route but at the cost of time.

But oh no! There's a squall around this turn and as the rowers come into it, a flurry of snowballs start to pelt them from those gathered to play the part of the storm and not just observers. Dip, dodge, duck, dive and dodge!

With a feral growl coming from the large armored man, he continues to push himself forward with heavy rows, Ajax's brown eyes narrow at the incoming projectiles as he pushes a bit more oomph into his rowing and even though his form is large and bulky he manages to weave through the snowy assault with a warriors grace, every so often Rowenova and Sir Flop's sled gains his attention.

Not stopped, but definitely slowed. It's a bumpy ride for the poor Greenmarch beauty. Her jaw clicks hard as she hits wave after wave and slows down. Slows down enough to be the perfect target for snowballs. "Ack!" comes her snow-pelted response, and she eats far more snow than ever she did as a child at Greenhaven. Snowballs explode at her and further weigh her boat down, piling up inside. "No! No! Hit the lion!" she cries, irritated and laughing at the same time. "Much better trophy mount than a Minx!"

Merek is hit by snowballs while he takes his time to maneuvers through them, managing it well enough, though it slows the sled while he does also.

Bonnie pushes along with a thorough, slightly alcohol-boosted resolve, and that seems to be alright. The first snowball is ducked nearly by instinct while she's bent over to push, though the following ones that come near her there at the back of the pack take some more effort. It certainly ties her up when she's trying to avoid getting pelted with more of the hated snow; when the first solid rather than grazing hit knocks the bottle out of her hand when she's trying to take a sip, there's a death glare directed to the 'storm' at the side of the course. And then almost every other push with the oar seems to end with Bonnie cranking it up and over her shoulder, and keeping it ready to swat a few of them back, provided they don't just explode into flurries.

Sailing snowballs fly forth, and Sir Floppington ducks down in the Number Nine while Scout Nova energetically rows their boat sled through the winter squall. When they have the lead position, Nova growls/grunts out, too, doing so during timed exhales which sync up with her oar action. She competitively strives, doing so with that extra energy she specifically saved for the last half, and she does not let up!

1 Inquisition Confessors, Scribble, a Delicate Social Butterfly, Pearl, a Maelstrom Forest Cat arrive, following Delilah.

5 House Mazetti Guardians, Possum arrive, following Cambria.

Luigi, 5 House Mazetti Guardians, Mario, Leonara, Mykee, Donatella, Raff, Cambria arrive, following Hadrian.

5 House Mazetti Guardians, Possum leave, following Cambria.

Luigi, 5 House Mazetti Guardians, Mario, Leonara, Mykee, Donatella, Raff, Cambria leave, following Hadrian.

1 Inquisition Confessors, Scribble, a Delicate Social Butterfly, Pearl, a Maelstrom Forest Cat leave, following Delilah.

Oh but the snow squall is fierce. So fierce. Some snowballs land very ont he nose - even literally. Poor Bonnie's flask goes flying and someone in the crowd picks it up and cheers, draining the last drops from it. Whether she'll find the person afterward, who knows. But more snowballs make their presence known and she has to duck a bit. Monique indeed is eating snowballs like they're desert and it's slowing her down. They obscure her vision. A few nail Merek on his shoulder, but they don't deter him and in fact seem to incite the man. But here comes the Tydlands, still pulling forward, nearly neck in neck with the Bisland boy!

Rowenova's fending them off with her oar or well timed ducks that mean the snowball is caught in the mouth by her devoted hound who's happily crunch crunch crunching away on the errant balls of snow.

Merek did overall alright, so he makes the line and completes, rolling in with the work of his shifting in the snow sled as he makes his way also. He seems content though he comes after a few others also.

As Rowenova breaks off further and further from him, Ajax's teeth grit as he keeps himself focused onto rowing, not really seeming to notice Michael even though he's neck and neck he goes forward, though, at this point it's clear that just relying on his strength, the man starting to show signs of flagging.

Nova grew up working hard in daily snow, and it pays off here at the snow row, as the Halfshav scout keeps up her rowing action combined together with the ongoing inertia. Timed sweeps of the wooden oar and unending stamina take the human/canine duo across the finish line in the nick of time, but they do not really stop until a few sweeps beyond it, making sure to follow through! Then, Nova lifts up her oar above her in both hands and shakes it up and down with a victory yell! Sir Flop lets out a soulful bay!

Strength isn't Monique's strength. This is /hard/. The Minx is panting halfway to the finish line. By the time she makes it over? She's pouring sweat, even in the cold weather. She oars her slow, gruelling way across and then slumps back into the boat and just stays there for a long while, catching her breath. Ah, the ignominy of defeat. She summons the willpower to crack her eyes open and see who won, weakly applauding Rowenova with her rubbery arms.

Bonnie, in the approach to the end, bears through it with some dignity or at least a compulsion to bring the whole 'boat' in to the finish. Steadily pounding the oar down against the 'sea' and rolling the whole thing along, even when it's right to the line she keeps rowing away despite being at the very end of the competitors crossing the line. Huffing a bit, from disappointment more from exhaustion, as the boat continues to roll a little distance longer without being pushed any further, she turns around to sit on the edge of the bow, one foot up on the side of it. Though her grin remains intact as she reaches into the cuff of one boot to withdraw a smaller, rounded backup bottle out from beside her ankle. "I hate this weather so much," though halfway through the statement she's speaking it through her teeth while pulling the cork out.

5 Redoubt Buccaneers have been dismissed.

Bengalo, the sneaky black cat have been dismissed.

Luna, the sweet, studious assistant have been dismissed.

And it's woman and dog across the finish line, rudimentary brakes applied - and haystacks for those that forget about these things. Bisland in for a close second but lost to the scout. Tydelands in third with Ajax, as steady gets you somewhere. Merek is as Merek seems to do, middle of this pack and Cillian much the same. Monique gets a moment to rest and catch her breath, the jello arms are sure to be sore later from all that effort and rest may be needed for the subsquent games. And Shepard brings up the rear. No doubt poor Bonnie wants her flasj back. But the woman did good and that back up lash is filled with all sort of consolation liquid. There's cheers from the crowd for this batch of rowers even as the next group is being hustled to the starting line on the hill waaaaaay back there.

The Bisland Boy is doing well enough! Keeping up and pushing through most of the competition. Are plushies considered boobytraps or simply funny pranks? Either way. Mikey keeps rowing at equal interbals on either side of his boat, speed maintained more by impeccable steering than through sheer dint of power ornfortitude.

As Ajax raises upwards letting out a ragged exhale, the man raises from his boat his fingers moving to rest against his shoulder rubbing it slowly as he looks at the other two who beast him first. His head dips in their direction.

Nova suddenly spots the impending hay, and she slams down the wooden oar into the forward snow until they finally stop just short of the hay piles. Phew! She drops aside that same oar then picks up Sir Flop into her bracer-clad arms as she stands up in the Number Nine. "Thank you! Good job, everybody!" She actually smiles with high spirits right now.

Monique makes a strangled sound as she tries to lever herself out of the boat. And fails. And so she just stays there, plushie on her lap, weighing her down even further.

All hail the victors. In the end after all the heats are done, Rowenova will prove to be the ultimate victor, the belt bestowed on her to be worn or placed some place with pride. But for now, there's drinks hot and cold, braziers for the chilly to warm themselves and a social mingling on Thrax and Darkwater's dime to be had.

Monique is overheard praising Alarissa.

Merek is overheard praising Alarissa.

As Ajax trudges his way off the line, he pauses heading over towards Nova and Flop, "Good race, lass." he offers with a tired smile, leaning over however he assault Sir Flop with pets and pets, "And whose a goood boy?"

After all have crossed over the finish line, and it is safe to do so, Nova hops out of the Number Nine and sets down Sir Flop before Ajax, so the soulful hound can soak up all the petting love. Nova firmly slaps her left hand upon Ajax's back a few times. "You, too, Master Ajax." After that, she puts the oar in the 'boat' and then graciously accepts the champion belt which she secures about her slender waistline. "Thank you." says she in a much more humble voice than the one she used to let out that Northern yell before.

Bonnie finishes her backup flask, tucking it away and then heaving her legs over the side of the boat in order to slip down and to her feet. A little stretching afterwards with both hands behind her head. "That's the problem. Not enough good luck dogs." Grinning still though - the alcohol helps and a brief excercise-fueled relief from the cold adds to that - she moves along to where Ajax is, coming up and giving him a slap on the back. "Not bad yourself." But her attention turns towards Nova soon enough, "But yours was great. You a professional sailor?"

Monique is overheard praising Vega.

Raimon is overheard praising Alarissa.

Raimon is overheard praising Carita.

Raimon is overheard praising Vega.

Eventually, the stars align and Monique manages to heave herself out of her boat and off she goes into the crowd, arms hanging limply at her sides, soaked through from the snowball pelting, fingers weakly clutching her stuffed lion.

Kit, the grey fox, Primus, First of Monique's Assistants, 1 Greenmarch Guard, Tertius, Third of Monique's Assistants, Quartus, Fourth of Monique's Assistants leave, following Monique.

Merek smiles as he takes a moment after the finish while he waves a bit also.

"Gratitude, Lady Shepard, it's good to see you." Ajax dips his head in Bonnie's direction as he pats away at Sir Flop, before he raises back to his full height, the man starting his trudge off the green properly.

Merek is overheard praising Vega.

Merek is overheard praising Carita.

Raimon turns towards Vega, inclining his head to his wife. "This was well put together, My Lady."

Sir Floppington definitely knows who is the good boy, and he soaks up those wonderful pats from Ajax until they finally cease. Nova waves goodbye to the departing man, "See you." Then, she turns back to Bonnie and makes eye contact with her if able to. "Thank you. No, I grew up in the snows of Whitehold." Meanwhile, Sir Flop moves to sit by Bonnie and give her nearest hand a nudge with his hound-dog nose. Nova carries on with, "I liked how you were drinking while driving your boat." Of course, leave it to a Northerner to admire that!

Smiling towards Raimon, Vega murmurs, "Thank you, my lord. But I cannot take the credit. Her Grace and the Countess Darkwater have done all the hard work, I just get to greet the people and start the event." Not that she seems at all put out by that, if anything, she seems quite happy with the arrangement.

Bonnie nods, with an appropriate degree of solemnity, "Everyone knows the gods favor drunks, idiots, and children - and, sadly, kids are terrible at tying knots. So it's necessary to have as much luck on your side as you can get before sailing the seas." Her hands come up in a wide shrug, then fall back with a flap against the sides of her hips as she starts to snicker, "Of course, I'm not sure how dogs play into it yet. Usually it's cats that're good luck on the waves." Sir Flop gets an automatic scratching behind one ear the moment his nose touches Bonnie's hand, muscle memory kicking in immediately as befits a Shepherd. "He's a cute one, too."

"Even something like that takes a degree of skill, and I find that playing the hostess seems to suit you well." Raimon looks down at Vega, a slight twitch to his lip. "You are well though?"

"That it does. I enjoy overseeing the happiness of others, its strangely fulfilling," Vega responds with a small nod. She slips in closer, passing him a mug of hot cider and turning a faint smile up towards him, "Much better. I'm told the next bit will be easier."

Jared, an overworked-looking, nervous Apprentice Whisper, Donatella arrive, following Bliss.

Jared, an overworked-looking, nervous Apprentice Whisper, Donatella leave, following Bliss.

Nova raptly watches Bonnie but lifts up a waving hand toward Raimon and Vega before wryly admitting, "I will remember that the next time I go sailing, if ever I start to drink again like I used to." Glancing down at Sir Flop (who is absolutely loving those behind-the-ear scritches), Nova also notes, "Not only is Sir Floppington a cutie, he is the Very Best Good Boy Ever, isn't he?" Indeed, many tail wags ensue for so much attention given his way. Looking up, Nova then tells Bonnie, "He seems to like cats if they are kind enough to him, so that might qualify him for good luck?" She merely speculates there. "I am Scout Rowenova Bru..., er, of the Ranging Wolves. Scout, Scribe, and Servant for House Halfshav, especially Lord Arik. Protege to Baroness Lucita Saik. Please, might I know with whom I have the pleasure to be speaking right now?"

Bonnie puts a more personal touch to it, in leaning over towards Floppington for the combined 'behind both ears and along the neck' scritching/petting, "Quite. I should've brought Bark; the trade-off in weight would've been worth extra warmth too, any added luck being a handy benefit." Finishing with a pat, her hands come around and tuck to the small of her back, "Good to meet you! I'm Bonnie Shepherd; there's some other names too but if you're not much for the seas or the coasts they probably won't mean much." The little snickering that comes out is too quiet to make it to a full-fledged cackle, but it's close. "Don't forget though, you're a champion now too. But, ah, you'll have to pardon me, I think I'm starting to lose feeling in my toes, messere."

Raimon nods his head to Vega. "I am glad you will have an easier time of it. I know that it was rather unpleasant for you for a while." The Prince turns his head towards the other competitors, offering Rowenova a small nod of his head.

Sir Floppington absolutely adores the personalized attention to both his ears and his fuzzy neck, too. He closes up those soulful eyes and swishes aside the snow behind him with his wagging tail. Nova back pats him a few times while Bonnie is tending his head and neck. The young scout softly smiles about the named canine, "Bark is a great name. Good to meet you, too, Lady Shepherd?" Though, she sounds like she is uncertain on the title she just used there, but that seems to be a likely guess. "I have been to a particular Isle a few times and into the Lyceum from the waters south of there, but I am not very privy to much in the way of the seas and coasts otherwise. Thank you, and farewell. Please, have a wonderful evening." She politely bows to Bonnie before sending her off with a goodbye wave.

"No worse, I expect, than any other. Just a part of life, my dear," Vega smiles up towards Raimon lightly, tucking one of her arms into one of his. She returns Rowenova's smile and wave, cheery and happy. Bonnie receives a quick bow as she's headed out before Vega turns back to her husband, "Well then. As adventurous as I like to think that I am, I do believe the cold is starting to sting my fingers and nose. Shall we head somewhere warmer?"