The Hart's arena bustles and sings with excitement as guests and notable warriors arrive to enjoy another night of merriment and matches. Valencia arrives with a rustle of silks, offering warm smiles and welcoming nods as she greets one and all in kind. Pausing so share a word with her staff to ensure that all are well cared for as during this evening's event.

Present for once without any of his entourage, Patrizio's lingering near the bar. It's not a whiskey or rum in his hand for the moment, but water, as he's sipping and briefly eying the others who're coming in, with casual inclinations of his head to the familiar faces among the throng.

Ian got here early, and has taken up residence at the table in the corner, the one that he usually occupies when he comes to watch people fight. There's a bottle of whiskey and a small stack of glasses on his table, but he himself seems to be mostly ignoring the drink he poured for himself.

Waldemai picks up a bucket of ale and climbs up to the cheap seats in the rafters. "Let's see a good fight!" he shouts down,and he's not even drunk yet. Time to remedy that.

Drake might be here to spar, but right now he's taking some time to sip. He's sitting by the bar with a drink in his hand. He brought a few swords and he's in his leathers as well, so... it's likely he didn't come to just drink, of course.

Of course Thea is here. Why wouldn't she be here? Ordering a few glasses of whiskey, the Malvici makes her way to the table, hearing Waldemai as she passses. Waving, she smiles a moment, murmuring to the bartending,"Send him up a few too, yes,"her head nodding up to the smith. Passing Drake as well, she nudges him just a bit, grinning to him as awell.

Jan arrives in a confident stride. Her wounds are pretty much healed, time to make some fresh ones. The twin heads of her flail are bound in wooden and leather guards which means it will certainly be the star of this evening. She makes her way to Ian first however, noticing the whiskey. "You mind helping me with this strap over the shoulder- and uh- you mind?" A bit sloopy grin, "For the nerves."

12 Grayson House Guards arrives, following Liara.

Grimgar arrives as quietly as a giant bear prince can manage in a crowd such as this. The tall and broad Redrain strides with purpose into the room, wearing his normal attire of black and red leathers and toting his favored greatsword, Roar. He makes his way over to a free table ordering some mead from a passing member of the staff as he makes his way towards his chosen seat.

Merek walks along and into the place, dark attire on from the hood to the beltcape, while he nods to people he knows, finding a nice place to settle in to watch.

Cirroch enters the arena striding across from the entry directly to Valencia, with a large grin picks her up from the waist in a deep hug and partial spin before putting her back upon her footing on the ground, then keeping his arm slung by her shoulder, "Hello Princess Valencia, it should be a wonderful spar!" His voice bouncing off of whatever surfaces are available creating an echo of its own. He the looks over to Patrizio and with the same enthuasic shout, "You'll save a space for a spar with me Prince Patrizio? Or are we here only to drink hearty and heavily?"

Ian reaches across the table, selects a glass for Jan, and pours a few fingers of whiskey into it. "You'll do fine." He offers it over.

Here very much for the sipping rather than the sparring - all the velvet and absence of any weapon is a dead giveaway - Liara Grayson strolls into the hall and on over towards the bar. She gives quick smiles or dainty little waves to a few familiar faces on her way through.

Certainly, there's a moment where Patrizio's weighing the matter when Cirroch shouts over to him, but the smile crests his lips, and the Pravusi prince lifts the glass of water he's holding in salute. "Consider such a spot saved, my lord," he offers with a laugh. "I'm not simply here for once to be watching - I figured it's perhaps time for me to demonstrate that I'm not just a nice suit of armour with perfect hair."

Patrizio is offered a warm smile and a gracious nod before Valencia turns to welcome Waldemai. An obvious favorite of the Hart's staff, he's welcomed by not only the little vixen but many of her staff, who offer warm waves and calls of his name. Valencia's smile only seems to grow as Ian is spied, the Lord of Kennex offered a graceful bow of her head in welcome. Drake recieves a smile as well, and of course Lady Thea and Lady Jan, both ladies being met with yet more warm smiles even as the Prince of Redrain arrives.

A soft squeak of surprise slips as another mighty bear of the north makes himself know but lifting the little vixen up into a big burly hug. Valencia grins and hugs back in return, chiding the man softly for startling her, but all in good fun. "Marquis Cirroch! Tschkt! You frightened me," she laughs and hugs him again. "It should be, yes? I so agree. And I'm glad you are here. It is good to see you, my dear sir. Not please me down else we will not be able to start," she laughs soflty and offers a final welcoming hug. "I should love ot see you both step on sands if it please. The more the merrier. I cannot wait!"

Glancing down into the glass, Jan cants her head, "What am I one of your kids?" She takes a good drawl off the whiskey but doesn't actually manage to finish it. With a grunt she mumbles something about it being decent whiskey and turns to the ring. "Anybody I should watch out for?" She hooks her thumbs in the straps across her chest and takes in the competition.

Thea sees Jan and smiles at her, scooting next to her,"Hey Jan,"nodding her head to Ian too. "Hey. How are you both,"taking a sip from her own drink. When Liara, Patrizio, and Cirroch enter, Thea nods her head to them as well, greeting them with a polite and warm smile,"Highnesses, Marquis Cirroch." But the Malvici is searching for Valencia, finding her amongst the group of people,"Princess Valencia, this has been awhile. You've been well.."

Cerelia walks inside and takes a long look around. As she decides on the best place to watch she takes a few steps more inside.

Patrizio smiles, watching how Valencia playfully chides Cirroch for the lift, and he's finishing his water - there're some things, clearly, that can't be put too far off if he's to be on the sands. But the grin spreads as he does incline his head back to Valencia when she's noticed him, and likewise there's an answer towards Thea. "Good evening, my lady. " A hand rises, briefly, to stroke through his hair as the jade eyes turn to better contemplate the ring.

"My kids are too young for something like this," Ian points out to Jan, like he feels this is a sensible thing to add to the discussion. He looks around when she asks him who to look out for. "Lord Drake is pretty good. I don't think he often loses."

Liara offers up a cheerful "Good to see you again, Lady Thea," then slips up onto a barstool. She puts in an order for some tea then twists around on the seat so that she can get a decent view of the main arena area.

"In a casual spar like this? Usually not, no," Drake confesses. "I did fight a stronger fighter to a standstill once or twice... but I have a lot of staying power. Now in a formal duel, such as the Champions, I'm far from undefeated," he says with humility, taking a sip of his drink. But he chuckles. "Still, I do my best, and I don't plan to lose today, so hopefully someone with skill steps up tonight."

"I am very well. Thank you," Valencia calls to Thea with a grin. "Even more so. To be greeted in such a way by such a bear cannot be a bad thing, yes?" she laughs again as Cirroch once settles her down again. "I thank you, my lord. I must say the view up there was rather remarkable." A gentle smile comes as turns back to Thea again, "I hope you are as well. I do hope we will be seeing you upon the sands tonight. You always bring such fire to the ring when you spar. And you as well, Lady Jan,," she invites warmly as she smiles once more as she smooths her dress and settles down to business of starting the event.

Liara has joined the bar.

The glass is set down on the bar as Patrizio eases himself from his spot, the slow walking - prowling, almost pacing, really - as he's moving, the faint hint that he's staying loose and perhaps taking his mind off one or tow things for the second. He's taking a few moments to eye the others, the appreciative smile to himself at some of those he's hearing discussing the matter of sparring, before he's drawing closer to Cerelia. "You look a little lost," says he, with a note of play lingering in the words. "First time coming to a spar at the Hart?"

Thea jokes with Ian a bit,"I appreciate that bill of confidence,"before agreeing however. "Drake does fight well,"her eyes drifting to the Wyvernheat. "Humble as always,"Thea says. As she goes to answers to Valencia, she nods her head,"I do yes, though I think you give me far more credit than I deserve."

Cerelia looks toward the bar and Patrizio with a nod. "It must be obvious. It is my first time here. I'm new to the city, so I haven't been to many places yet. Will you be sparring tonight?"

Jan tips her head to Thea as she sizes up Drake absently. "Hope you came for some practice with your needlework tonight. I've never had a fight stopped because I cried for mercy." Her chuckle is cut short as she hears the word 'Lady' come out of Valencia's mouth. She resists correcting the hostess with her preferred title and instead forces a smile and nods. "Can't wait to let the chain out on my flail." She manages instead.

Pony, a tiny smoke-grey kitten with white points arrives, following Piccola.

Pony, a tiny smoke-grey kitten with white points have been dismissed.

Patrizio smiles, and inclines his head to Cerelia. "I'm intending to, with the good Marquis," says he with warmth, as he's gesturing to Cirroch across the way briefly. "And perhaps a second, assuming that I still have feeling in my fingers after he's demonstrated that he's certainly as strong as he looks." A laugh slides from him, before he continues. "But all of us have been new here in the city. I'm but a year here myself, from Setarco. I'm Patrizio Pravus."

Domonico entere the Hart, resplendent in his arms and armour and sweeps his gaze around the room, noting those that he knows and giving them a polite nod in turn as the stern Admiral adjusts his bracers while thinking carefully.

Cirroch gives Valencia a nod as she's back upon solid ground and heads towards the bar oordering the strongest and clearest whiskey available, then holding up a hand to point out that the largest glass available as well would be best. A turn to Patrizio, Liara, and Cerelia. "Princess Liara, it is good to see you again." a nod to Patrizio, then his right hand to his heart with a small bow to Cerelia, "Marquis Cirroch Sanna, of Giant's Reach."



Clad in storm grey southern silks, Valencia gracefully moves to the center of the Ring of Valor. Offering a welcoming smile, she holds up her hands and graciously inclines her head to the enthusiastic crowd.

"My lords and ladies, misseres and madams. Dearest friends -- please be welcome to my Hart and thank you for being here this evening. We are so very happy you could join us."

"Tonight, we are pleased to offer you a chance to enjoy the finest of martial arts and skills," the little Lycene calls out with a respectful nod to those who will be entering the ring. "But tonight, is also a night for assisting others."

Having been furnished with some tea, Liara lifts the cup to greet Cirroch, along with a light and easy smile. "Always a pleasure, Marquis, and I trust the day finds you well." Then the Grayson turns her attention to Valencia.

"The recent disaster that struck our shores has devastated the people of Atarrea. Those who were able to survive the tidal wave have lost all that they have," Valencia offers as she speaks to the cause.

"And as always, the Hart will do its part to assist and will be collecting donations to help get the people of Atarrea back on their feet again."

"Donations of writs and silver collected tonight are gratefully accepted and we thank you from the bottom of our hearts in in advance for your generosity and kindness. It means so much to be able to help others in dire times."

"And now, dear friends. Let us begin the sparring part of tonight's festivities. Competitors! Missere Sergeant of Arms! Would please take to the sands," she continues with a bright smile. "Let spirits lift and voices rise. I now pronounce tonight's event open!"

The Hart's arena again is filled with cheers as the Hart's vixen gracefully bows her head and gracefully steps from the ring. The event has officially begun!

Waldemai cheers from the rafters, but not too loudly, since he's only on his second horn of ale. "Charity? Five thousand," he shouts. He sends a small purse to Princess Valencia

Drake nods to Jan, and gives her an assessing look. "I'll fight. You seem like you've been out in the arena yourself," he adds aside. He's checking his weapon, possibly going to go with the steel today.

The Hart's Sergeant of Arms is a grizzled, no-nonsense specimen A veteran with a glint in his eye and more experience than many in the realm. Moving with the agility of a younger man, the old warrior moves onto the sands and holds up a scarred hand before rumbling out, "Lords and Ladies! Good folk and gentles all! Prince Patrizio of Pravus and Marquis Cirroch of Sanna are called to the sands!" he bellows as he eyes the combatants with a look of approval as they enter. "Sir, your highness, present yer arms. May your fight with honour and fire in your heart and the rest be damned. LAY ON!" he barks with a gruff grin and a bow to each before stepping back.

Cerelia does a bow. "I'm from Tremorus, Cerelia Pontelaeus." She smiles as she introduces herself. "Perhaps you've met my cousins. They've been here a little longer." She looks from Patrizio to Cirroch. "It is a pleasure to meet the two of you." She gives a glance to the ring.

One of these days, I'll take out Lord Darrow's teardrop flail, and we can spar," Ian comments to Jan, taking a sip of his drink. He spots Domonico coming in and adds to her: "Count Domonico's also pretty good."

Patrizio turns his head towards Valencia when she's speaking,a nd when he's called forth to the ring. "I'll be back presently, Messere Pontelaeus. And yes, I do know your cousins quite well, in passing. But if you'll excuse me.." There's a smile and a faint inclination of his head, and a breath that slides from him when he's being called forth, and he looks to the Marquis. "Are you ready, my lord?"

Cirroch is just being handed the whiskey as he is called to the sands, and in true fashion to him and Sanna drinks down the whiskey in a solid gulp before handing the glass back and wiping his jaw, "Have another ready for when I get back." He then looks over to Patrizio with a broad smile, "I am now."


Here comes the General.

The diminutive danger skulks in behind the last entrant, dressed in her customary black and standing with her usual feline wariness and twitch-energy. Sure, she looks cool and casual, but she also looks like the sort of woman that bites people's heads off for fun. Is she ready for fun tonight? Hells-yeah. Sword? Check. Bow? Yes. Dagger? Yup. Armor? Def. Ominous hooded cloak? Ahoy. And from the door she heads to the small bar where she can get herself a nice, stiff drink and settle in for a show.

Feelin' cute; might participate.



Valencia steps from the sands and smiles up to the rafters at Waldemai as his generous donation is placed in her hands. "Thank you, my sir! I will see that this gets to the good folk of Atarrea. Brightest blessings for your kind generosity," she calls up with a grateful bow of her head as the sands are prepared for the very first match.

A fight has broken out here. Use @spectate_combat to watch, or +fight to join.

Domonico looks up to the rafters at Waldemai's announcement of his purse that he is giving and he offers his Master of the Forge a nod of respect. "Well done Waldemai!" His arms cross over his chest as he thinks carefully, watching to combat as it unfurls.

Waldemai isn't here to get accoladed, he's here to see a fight. Alas, he doesn't get a bet down before it starts. "Fight well!" he cheers from on high.

Drake sits back to watch the fight. His cup now empty, he doesn't get another yet as he might be one of the next to battle and doesn't want to get too drunk before he does. He usually watches a fight with the care of someone who may have to face either combatant some day.

Thea hears Domonico and waves over to her brother, then Piccola as well. "Brother. I swear I just saw you. General Piccola. You however--we need to stop going so long between visits,"her eyes drifting back to the fights.

Jan drums her fingers on the pommel of her flail. "So long as you don't mind facing this." She responds to Drake. "I don't often get to take it out." Her brow quirks in doubt to Ian as he talks about swinging around a flail. "I don't think you have given me martial lessons since I was a girl. I can't picture it." She teases, maybe a bit of reverse psychology. When is the last time anyone saw Ian fight?

The first few feints from the Pravusi prince are tentative, clearly respectful of the Redrain lord's axe. Despite the armour that the prince wears, he's clearly accustomed to moving in it, and on the first time that axe finds him, he's shifting his tactics towards the more aggressive, trying more to make it a dance as he weaves with that sword of his, a hot hiss sliding from him when he's clearly getting hit as much as he's dealing it out.

Valencia has joined the ringside table.


"I've been busy with some personal affairs," confesses the General to the other General, as generals generally do.

Piccola snags her drink -- whiskey in a glass, no ice -- and wanders over to where Thea sits. There, she too sits, plunking herself down heavily as if she had been carrying the world on her shoulders. "I hope everything's all right with you, friend. I -- " She makes a face. " -- have been reading a lot of books lately." As if she isn't exactly a fan of doing so. "I confess, if I am asked to an archery contest tonight, I will likely place poorly. I think my ass is getting fatter and my fingers lazier."

She may be kidding.



Cirroch enters the sands and takes a stance, allowing the Pravus prince to charge to him and making connection as they past after a solid miss, the next few attacks he's on the defensive pushing back and blocking as best as he can. Watching for where Patrizio will step and land next to complete a fuller swing with the axe versus the short swings that the Prince is keeping him to.

Liara has left the bar.

12 Grayson House Guards have been dismissed.

The arrival of Lady General Piccola brings a warm smile and graceful nod from Valencia. Leaving her to mix and mingle with the others, the keeper of the Hart finds herself a table to watch the fight unfold, dark eyes dancing with delight at the skills on show as the crowd rises and cheers and strikes and paries are shared.

"I'm fairly glad I've protection, my Marquis," comes Patrizio's voice with a faintly strained laugh when he's trying to avoid the business-end of Cirroch's axe. "Keeping me on my toes, lest I find my head coming away from my body." The faint flash of that smile - he's teasing, at least about the removal of his head - but a grunt each time he's trying to keep himself in close enough to keep the axe from being fully effective compared to the flash of his sword.

Domonico moves over to his sister to giver her a playful nudge, breaking from his serious demeanor just for that before he looks to the fight in process. "Are you fighting tonight sister?" He asks before he sets to watchinh the fight. "Not bad so far," is his sole comment.

Thea lifts a brow at Piccola. Books. Not looking really bothered by it, she asks,"What sort,"skimming the thin woman for anything that may count as fat. "I see nothing that would count as fat anything,"Thea concludes with a grin. "I'm fairly certain that you'd still do well enough,"before she answers,"I've been well. Busy. Though I'm not reading as much as you, it seems. I should..." Taking a drink, Thea nods to her brother. "Of course I am."

Piccola has joined the corner table.

A couple more close encounters has Cirroch seeking to shorten his grip upon the axe and using it more akin to a hammer and stabbing to push Patrizio out so a proper swing can be made. A huge smile across his face, "You shouldn't joike about losing your head, it's a common method of the Sanna's in seeking a step up and forwards." Another short punch with the axe, "Though I'll happily buy you a drink after this."

Cirroch checks 'unconsciousness save' at easy. Cirroch is successful.

Cirroch remains capable of fighting.

Cirroch checks 'unconsciousness save' at easy. Cirroch is successful.

Cirroch remains capable of fighting.

Cerelia has joined the corner table.

Cirroch checks 'unconsciousness save' at hard. Cirroch is successful.

Cirroch remains capable of fighting.

Drake looks at the flail Jan is brandishing, and nods to it. "Interesting weapon. I always welcome a new challenge. Though I think this depends on me winning my first bout. If we don't face each other tonight, let's make a time to do it in the training grounds, either way."

Cirroch checks 'unconsciousness save' at daunting. Cirroch fails.

Cirroch is incapacitated and falls unconscious.

Waldemai cheers for the fighters. "Well done! All glory to Gloria!"

Ian eyes Jan. "If you'd been to the Eswynds' fight night, you would have seen me fight a couple weeks ago. I might still have a few things to teach you." Then he shifts his attention to the fight, his electric blue eyes moving quickly to take in the details of stance, the shifting of weight, the angle of a strike, as the fight comes to a close.

Cerelia cheers as the fight ends. "That was a good fight."

Thea mumbles as she sees the sands,"I should have placed bets with Waldemai,"her eyes up on the rafters. "It was a great fight.."

"I'd be disappointed if I couldn't joke about it, but it just sounds like I'd make a poor addition to your house. But drinks always." Patrizio's groaning again when he's hit, and then stepping in swiftly to bring the blade into play once more while they're quipping and sparring, a whirl of his body as he brings the sword in sharply to catch Cirroch as he steps in to negate the advantage of the big blade.

Valencia's eyes go wide as a heavy hit after hit are exchanged. Sitting up a little straighter now, she cheers along with the others in ruckus crowd.

Domonico overhears Ian and chips in from where he is. Lord Ian is an outstanding oppenent and swordsman. We are very evenly matched indeed. "

More people seem to have joined the corner table while Ian was distracted watching the fight. He doesn't question this, and instead takes a couple of glasses from the small stack in the middle of the table, and pours drinks for Thea, Piccola, and Cerelia. Hopefully they all like whiskey, because that's what he's giving them. He nods towards Domonico while he slides Cerelia's drink over to her. "It was a good match," he agrees.


"I don't like to wager on these sorts of bouts."

Piccola makes a grumbly noise in her throat, and looks over in Drake's direction. She pokes Thea in the shoulder, then asks her a question: "Is Lord Wyvernheart going to fight tonight?" Beat. "I think I may owe him a fight; I can't remember." Then she takes a slow sip from her whiskey, and comments quietly: "Princess Valencia always keeps the best alcohol."

And this puts a small smile on her face.



Jan gets Filopi Black - Kennex Brand Black Pepper Vodka from an aged leather rucksack lined in canvas.

"The joke here would be that your head is too small for the mantle..." Cirroch smiles, working towards a longer and heavier swing. Then the prince closes the gap between them and the Marquis finds a sword too close for comfort to his neck and drops the axe, hands raising outwards. "Well fought Prince."

As one fighter yields, the crowd roars with delight as mercies rush in to check upon the fighters now moving from the ring. The Hart's Sergeant of Arms nods with quiet approval as he steps back into the center of the arena. "Well done," he offers with spark of a smile as he turns to the crowd to bellow, "And, your winner is Prince Patrizio of Pravus!"

The crowd rise and cry out with vigor as the first combatants of the evening good-naturedly step from the sand. The Sergeant waits till there is a lull again and then with a deep rumble he bellows again, "Stand tall. Our next match is called! Lady Thea of Malvici and Lord Drake of Wyvernheart! You've been called to the sands. May your fight with honour and fire in your heart," he offers with a brisk nod to each as he steps back out to give them room. "Fighters, present yer arms and lay on yer leisure! Good fight!"

Piccola has left the corner table.

Waldemai looks even more excited than usual. "A thousand silver on Lady Thea! Anyone take that bet?"

Piccola has joined the corner table.

Domonico gives Drake a very intense stare as the Wyvernheart is named as Thea's opponent. A hard stare indeed.

Thea nods to Piccola, winking as hers and Drake's names are called to the sands. "He is, yes,"jogging to the center. Lifting her eyes to Waldemai, she grins a bit. "You've always been my favorite. I'll fight anyone that says different,"waiting for her opponent.

Patrizio groans still, even when the axe is falling and, at Cirroch's lifted hands, he takes that step back, the blade coming back down, before he's sliding the serpent-inspired thing back into the scabbard at his hip. And then his blade-hand comes out to clasp Cirroch's wrist, with a squeeze, before he's chuckling to the other man. "Well fought indeed, my lord. And I owe you a drink, I insist, of the quantity of your choosing."

That smile spreads, before he's considering Valencia as they're coming off the sands to let the next spar get underway, and his voice lifts. "My highness - I pledge fifty thousand silver, towards this evening's cause. May your efforts be fruitful and help with uplifting this worthy cause."

Cirroch has joined the bar.

Thea has left the corner table.

Thea has joined the ring of valor.

Cerelia takes the glass of whiskey and drinks it. "I'm liking this place so far."

"I admire the woman greatly, however a call to wager is rather enticing. I will match your bet, Master Waldemai. And when I win, the full 2,000 will be given to our cause tonight," Valencia calls up to the man with a solemn nod before turning and cheering for both Thea and Drake as they step into the ring.

Drake stands up. Domonico is staring at him. "Just a friendly spar," he reassures the man, and then he gets into the arena, drawing steel.

Drake has joined the ring of valor.

Drake wields a steel longsword engraved with the sigil of Gloria.

Thea wields Skystrike, the finely crafted diamondplate kopis.

Ian doesn't give the next combatants a hard stare, but they do have all of his attention. Which turns out to be a considerable amount of attention. He leans forward a little bit, elbows on knees, hands clasped loosely together, and watches.

Waldemai raises his horn to Princess Valencia. "Then I vow the same, your highness. When I win the bet, all the money to charity!"

Domonico's arms are folded over his chest as he watches Thea and Drake prepare to spar. Nothing else distracts him currently from this scrunity.

A fight has broken out here. Use @spectate_combat to watch, or +fight to join.

2 Valardin Knights arrives, following Gwenys.

Valenica's dark eyes blink at Patrizio's generous gift and she smiles almost shyly in return. "My thanks for the gift, highness. I am so grateful to you for this. It will help many I am sure," she nods graciously. "Please, a drink for you and the Marquis then? In honour of a fight well fought and friendships blossoming." A grin finds her lips as Waldemai pledges his winnings to the charity. "You are too kind, Master Waldemai. I thank you. I would not wish to empty your coinpurse, but for charity I can only encourage you," she teases a little.

Jan has brought her own liquor as well, setting the dangerous vodka on the table to share after she refills her own glass.

Patrizio has joined the bar.

Being a Champion of some renknown, Drake takes this casual spar as seriously as he does any honor duel... Which, is to say, he occasionally shows off just a little for the spectators. It's a habit that can get him into trouble in the arena sometimes... but his focus has improved. "Do you remember the first time we were in a fight together? Feels like... a long time ago now, but as I recall, I was quite distracted by you." With a small flourish, he tags her... but just lightly.

Cirroch gets back to the bar the whiskey ordered before the match is ready and handed over to him as he raises it to Patrizio. "A good match your highness." Then proceeds to drain most of the drink in a Sanna sip. Wiping his jaw a little, "What was it that you wished to drink?"

There is no showing off on Thea's part. She's just--quick and too the part. Which is where she tries to get to Drake, with his prancing. There's a brief chuckle at him, nodding. "Yes. Clearly I need to bring that all out again,"barely feeling the tag.

"That, I cannot permit, highness," Patrizio says with warmth to Valencia when she's offering to purchase up the round, but he's shaking his head. "But the next, if it pleases you, in honour of the match." He's smiling, and there's a consideration of Cirroch's finishing his whiskey in such a gulp, though it's more of a mindful consideration of the options. "I'm game for a round of whiskey with you, my Marquis, or rum would be equally pleasing. I defer to your tastes in such things."

Thea checks 'unconsciousness save' at easy. Thea is successful.

Thea remains capable of fighting.

Thea checks 'unconsciousness save' at normal. Thea is successful.

Thea remains capable of fighting.

2 House Velenosa Guards arrives, following Locke.

A beautiful songbird, Locke arrive, following Emberly.

A beautiful songbird arrives, delivering a message to Patrizio before departing.

Beyond fashionably late, Gwenys arrives, her greatsword strapped to her back, dressed for sparring, her alabaster hair pulled up in a messy bun, the nasty scar across her cheek on diplay. Pale blue eyes scan the crowds a bit for any familiar faces before turning her attention to the match in progress.

Drake sees that he only struck her a bit... which is fine, and he deliberately goes for a bolder hit. She can see him leaning into it... but it's pretty fast, and he dives to the attack slashing into her ... it's just a practice bout, just a practice weapon, but it would've been a serious hit in non-blunted circumstances. For a second he feels a bit bad about it... but this is the fight.

Emberly enters also rather late, she arrives holding onto Locke's arm a little smile to her lips as she looks about and then to her brother. "Shall we sit with Valencia?" she asks him

Thea squints at the Wyvernheart. She tries again, but he pushes harder, hitting stronger. Causing her to grunt in pain. Thea's gold-flecked green eyes narrow in stubborn determination now, her feet shifting.

A bright smile is offered to the new arrivals, though the little vixen is watching the match carefully. Breath held, she leans lightly forward as Thea and Drake spin and circle upon the sands in a deadly dance. Gwenys' arrival is noted and a smile offered with genuine warm, but the crowd let's out a groan of compassion as one fighter lands a particularly spectacular hit upon the other and the little vixen turns back to watch again.

Thea checks 'unconsciousness save' at hard. Thea marginally fails.

Thea is incapacitated and falls unconscious.

Waldemai cheers for a good fight, losing bets be darned! "Well done! Well fought!" Of course, another purse travels from the rafters to the princess.

Drake lowers his weapon, and then... helps Thea back to her feet. "I believe I had another challenger..." he says, looking at her. But, he looks her over to make sure that decisive hit didn't leave any mark. "You're all right, eh?"

When Locke steps in at Emberly's side, naturally, he takes a quick glance at the arena; the bridge of his nose scrunching as he catches the tail end of a spar. "Ouch," he mutters under his breath, before he addresses Emberly's question. "Might as well — those would be the best seats." Having said that, he cants his head towards Valencia in greeting. "Good to see you, Princess."

Locke has joined the ringside table.

Emberly has joined the ringside table.

Thea grasps Drake's hand, getting to her feet. Brushing the dirt from herself, she smiles over at Drake, promising,"I'm fine." Though there may be a few bruises here and there. By few, a lot. Calling up to Waldemai, Thea apologizes,"Sorry about that, Wald!"

Waldemai waves it off. "Just makes a good fight better," he says. After all, a good blacksmith never goes broke!

Thea has left the ring of valor.

Thea has joined the corner table.

Again the crowds go mad. Both fighters receiving cheers. But in the end there can only be one winner. As the crowd roars, the Hart's Sergeant of Arms gives a nod as he steps back into the center of the ring and holds up his hands. "Another fine match. Give a cheer for the first fight of the night worth seeing. And now, your winner, Lord Drake of Wyvernheart!"

Cirroch looks to the bartender and in a loud voice, which could have been a poor attempt at an inside voice, "The clearest and strongest whiskey!" Then turning to Patrizio, "It's almost as clear as frozen waters from the ice pacts. You'll love it, or it will clean out your throat." There's a broad smile and a laugh offered as he finishes off the remaining of the drink in his hand.

Ian pours Thea another glass as she returns to the corner table, soon to be replaced in the ring by Jan, who has now had a taste of what she's about to get herself into. "Well fought."

The crowd rises to cheer again, and again the man waits till at least a little calm comes. Holding up a hand again, he nods to the next to Lady Jan "And now our next match! Lady Jan of Kennex challenges the formidable Lord Drake of Wyvernheart! Warriors, when you are ready... May your fight with honour and fire in your heart," he grins with an approving wink. "Fighters, LAY ON! "

Jan has joined the ring of valor.

Valencia is overheard praising Patrizio: Beautifully fought. A wonder to watch!

Emberly is overheard praising Patrizio.

Valencia is overheard praising Cirroch: Fierce and bold as they come! Bravo!

Thea accepts the glass, thanking Ian,"Appreciate it. One day, I'm knocking him down." She sounds pretty determined as she watches Jan go next. "How do you think she'll do,"Thea asks.

Emberly is overheard praising Cirroch.

Drake stays put, holding his weapon. "I appreciate facing that weapon of yours. I know a longsword is not as exotic as that flail, but... hopefully I still hold my own." He's studying the weapon that Jan weilds. Then he gives a bow to the crowd before getting back into stance. "Ready."

Valencia is overheard praising Thea: Beautiful and deadly. Her poise upon the sands breathtaking.

Ian takes a sip of his drink, and, with a quick, dry smile touching his lips and a bit of mischief flickering in his eyes, he answers Thea: "I think she's going to learn a lot."

Valencia is overheard praising Drake: As deadly and quick as the creature who shares his name. A wonder to watch upon the sands.

Emberly moves to sit with Valencia and she murmers softly her eyes dancing slightly as she also echos her praises for the fighters, she waspaying attention indeed!

Emberly is overheard praising Thea.

Patrizio laughs easily when there's the description of the liquor as such, before the well-coiffed prince shakes his head, clearly from amusement and not as a refusal of the thing. "Why can it not do both? Perhaps my throat could use a good cleaning as well." He's smiling, as his hand clasps Cirroch's shoulder. And then a nod to Maggnus behind the bar as he's letting that head of his bob. "Indeed, a good sized portion for my very worthy adversary here, and a good pour for myself as well." Which might put to rest any thought that he's wary of such a thing, now that he's off the sands.

Emberly is overheard praising Drake.

With a dull thud the twins heads of Jan's flail hit the sand. They are followed by a cacophony of unwinding links of chain og which she double wraps around one calloused fist. Although the wood and leather guards have been attached, this weapon could easily kill a man that catches it wrong. The Kennex General cracks her neck and back with an odd sort of stretch and responds, "I appreciate someone offering to let me swing it at them."

2 Valardin Knights have been dismissed.

A fight has broken out here. Use @spectate_combat to watch, or +fight to join.

The wager and now donation is accepted with a gentle nod and smile to Waldemai, and more of his favoured drink arrives to perhaps make it an easier parting of this silver. A bottle arrives for Thea as well as she returns to her table. As the next pair meet upon the sands, Valencia turns to offer warm welcome to Emberly and Locke as the join her. "My lady, how lovely to see you after so long an away. Prince Locke, now there is a face I am so happy to see," she beams back. "Welcome. Please sit. It is a fine night for sparring. Everyone is acceptional this evening."

Jan has left the ring of valor.

Jan has joined the ring of valor.

A fight has broken out here. Use @spectate_combat to watch, or +fight to join.

Waldemai settles back to watch the next fight. His bucket of ale is beginning to get low.

Jan wields an exotic twin headed flail bound to a short handle.

Thea smiles as a bottle is delivered to her. She won't turn it away, as she searches Valencia. "Thank you,"she tells the Princess with a warm tone and nod of her head. Her gaze goes back to the fight, head actually tilted in curiosity. "Ian, haven't you fought with---balls before?" He should know what she means.

Gwenys finally finds herself a seat to settle into to watch the next fight, adjusting her sword on her back to allow her to do so.

Drake actually looks a bit interested in facing Jan down. He focuses his attention on her, alert. His wariness proves correct as, in their exchange, she gets a good strike in on him... After that, Drake reassesses himself, and stops fighting quite as aggressively, looking for a good opening in her defenses before he strikes in again.

Fighting with a flail is an elaborate dance. Jan uses the heavy heads to try and control where her opponent can step, her actual strikes often coming from angles a fighter doesn't typically expect. Even the talented Drake falls into her trap initially but he makes her pay a bit too dearly for it. Without the ability to parry, a few false steps and she if left open. As the fight continues, she releases more of the chain, changing up the length of her reach.

Jan checks 'unconsciousness save' at easy. Jan is successful.

Jan remains capable of fighting.

Drake takes one deliberately big lunge, as he did with Thea, and then a few smaller cuts. The lunge seems to pay off, striking past the reach of the flail and getting a tag. Drake relaxes his stance... just slightly, waving the sword around in a feint, following up with an attack that only grazes. "You're good with that. I always try to rely on reach myself."

Valencia is overheard praising Waldemai: Grateful for his presence and his kindness. A champion of the Hart to be sure.

The issue with bringing a flail to a fight with an experienced fighter, (as Ian was probably eluding to with Thea), is that her tricks have diminishing returns. The wounds are taking their toll, slowing her pace and wearing her down. No sign of faitgue or quit shows in her eyes but this fight is nearly over. "Think I just need more practice!-" She growls with a lunge.

Jan checks 'unconsciousness save' at normal. Jan is successful.

Jan remains capable of fighting.

Jan checks 'unconsciousness save' at normal. Jan is successful.

Jan remains capable of fighting.

Jan checks 'unconsciousness save' at hard. Jan is successful.

Jan remains capable of fighting.

Thea squints at Drake's one movement. That looked vaguley familiar, as she rubs her side a bit. "I wouldn't even know where to with one of those things, but I would lik to try one day..."

Emberly is overheard praising Jan.

Jan checks 'unconsciousness save' at daunting. Botch! Jan fails completely.

Jan is incapacitated and falls unconscious.

Drake is overheard praising Jan.

Drake is overheard praising Valencia.

Drake is overheard praising Thea.

Cirroch is overheard praising Valencia.

Jan is overheard praising Drake: Tough bastard

Drake is actually starting to get tired... just a bit. Two fights in a row, perhaps, or just the fact that Jan has taken him a while to wear down himself. He looks like he's on the back foot for a second, but knows she's more tired than he is. So he attacks... with greater care, looking for an opening that he can get past that flail of hers. Eventually he finds it. Not a strong attack, but one that breaks through.

Jan is overheard praising Valencia: Great hostess!

Valencia is overheard praising Jan: She brings honour to the name of Kennex. Such grace and power!

Jan gets a bit reckless, throwing her weight about in a sloppy fashion and relying on her armor to get her this far. As the fight is coming to its end she manages to pull out one more trick and strike Drake directly with the wooden pommel of her flail. With this minor victory she offers a big grin. Just in time to completely miss his final strike. She is still in the sand, gazing up towards the sky and mumbling nonsense as the Mercies rush to clear her for more drinking.

Valencia is overheard praising Patrizio: Charming, formidable and generous as well. A fine supporter of the Hart's charitable efforts.

The battle is as fierce as you would imagine and the crowd goes wild as both warriors reel and move across the sand in their deadly dance. As one fighter yields, the crowd cheers their pleasure again. Nodding his approval as he steps back into the center of the ring, the Hart's Sergeant of Arms calls out gamely, "And, your winner, Lord Drake of Wyvernheart!"

The crowd rises to their feet again cheering as the Jan and Drake step from the sand. The Sergeant waits until the cheering slows and rumbles again. "Rise and stand! Our next match is called," he announces his sharp eyes sliding to the next pair who enter the ring next. "Lady General Piccola Tessere and Marquis Cirroch of Sanna! You've been called to the sands. May your fight with honour and fire in your heart," he nods briskly to each as he steps back out to give them room. "Fighters, present yer arms and lay on! Good fright!"

Drake has left the ring of valor.

Drake has joined the corner table.

Jan has left the ring of valor.

Jan has joined the corner table.


Ding.

Piccola sets down her whiskey with a sigh, lifting herself from her seat. She takes off her weapons once by one: bow; quiver; sword; dagger. She sets them down at her table and tells Thea quietly, "I'll be back; don't let them take my glass." And then she lifts up her voice and calls out to Cirroch: "My Lord! Care to fight empty-handed?" Did she just suggest a bar brawl?

Well, there's whiskey and fists, so -- yes.



Piccola has left the corner table.

Cirroch has just finished with a comment at the bar to Patrizio when he hears that General Piccola is seeking a fist fight, "Your highness, I see that the General is seeking a spar partner. I'll be back shortly for that drink," He looks to the bartender as they nod that there's time, it's going to take a moment for the horns to be filled with the whikey. He's then swinging his axe off of his back and heading to the sands again. As his feet hit the sands, there's a stretch, and a echoing crack from knuckles and neck. "This should be a fun one! Empty handed it shall be!"

A fight has broken out here. Use @spectate_combat to watch, or +fight to join.

Piccola has joined the ring of valor.

Emberly is overheard praising Valencia.

Cirroch has left the bar.

Cirroch has joined the ring of valor.

Emberly is overheard praising Piccola.

Patrizio laughs warmly when Cirroch's getting up, and he too rises from his place. "Go give them hell, Marquis," he says with warmth, his drink mostly still full in his hand as he's watching the large man move... and then he's drawing himself up. The air about the prince is that he himself wouldn't perhaps go for grappling, but he's going to watch regardless, and moves to get himself a better view.

Patrizio has left the bar.

Patrizio has joined the ringside table.


"Excellent."

Let the betting commence. Piccola hops into the ring, weapons set aside, and immediately rushes the Marquis. Who stands over a foot-taller than her and probably looks as if he's at least //double// her weight. So this is either going to be a fast match or a really long one.

Is she grinning?



Cerelia has left the corner table.

Following the crack of joints echoing through the arena, Cirroch laughs and stands ready for Piccola to make her charge. A swing and a little dance of footwork as the two move about the sands. "Are you standing up or crouching down? You seem shorter than the last time we met."


Looks like the fight may take a while.

It seems that the General may be the one with an advantage in quickness in training. The thing is, she has a severe disadvantage in strength, size, and burliness. Northlanders aren't known for shying from fights, even without their massive weapons of destruction. And Piccola is -- well, she's Piccola, a name that implies anything //but// back-alley fisticuffs. The first series seems to consist of the Little Snake dodging a lot, and hitting without making much of an impact.

"I forgot to wear heels," she answers blithely.



Valencia smiles warmly as Patrizio asks to sit. "I would be terribly hurt if you did not join us, your highness. Please sit, yes? This is my cousin in-law, the rather dashing Prince Locke, and I do believe you know the lady," she smiles and nods gracefully to Emberly before another hard hit brings her eyes briefly to the sands and back. "Gods, such power in them both. Remarkable," she whispers as the crowd goes wild again.

Thea slides to her feet,"I should get going,"finishing off her glass. "This was fun. Thank you for the spar,"Thea mentions to Drake, her lips curved into a smile. Her head dips to the table, nodding,"And it was nice seeing the rest of you. And the drinking."

Happiness, a bluebird arrives, delivering a message to Locke before departing.

Happiness, a bluebird arrives, delivering a message to Locke before departing.

Drake gives Thea a touch on the hand as she stands up. "Save travels back home. I'll make it up to you."

Patrizio smiles, taking a moment to murmur quietly to Valencia, Emberly, and Locke as he's coming up to the table, the twinkle in his eyes as he's contemplating what's said.

Thea has left the corner table.

Finn the large Northern hunting dog with icy blue eyes, Rocco, the rascally assistant leave, following Thea.

The sands are being covered with footprints as the two side step, duck, and weave. Until Cirroch steps back and the the side on one of Piccola's swings, giving room for his arm to connect with a punch to the gut. Then taking a step back.

12 House Velenosa Guards, Ibasia, the Velenosa Lady-in-Waiting, Ellani, the palm sized spider arrive, following Jaenelle.


Cirroch's punch is enough to cause Piccola to falter back a step. And then she just goes back to it, swinging a kick out in front of her and re-engaging with more fury and gusto.


Jan is interested in the fist fighting. It is a favorite past time of the Corsairs after all. She shouts some jeers and advice as she nurses her pepper vodka and lets the Mercies apply salves to her new wounds.

Cirroch is smiling and laughing as they exchange punches, egging Piccola into through more punches, "Is this a dance lesson or ettiqute lesson?"


Which Piccola does. "I'm unsure, but you could sure use some help in handling women," she responds in a mild tone.


Drake sits back and laughs at the exchange of quips... which he always appreciates in a fight.

While late to the gathering, Jaenelle makes an appearance regardless. Moving towards the center ring to see who might be within, the Archduchess observes for a moment as Piccola and Cirroch seem to be the pair in the center and they are punching eachother. There is amusement in her eyes as she notes the bantering back and forth between the pair before she moves off to sit, "General Piccola, is this where you pull out a hidden dagger?"

Cirroch checks 'unconsciousness save' at easy. Cirroch is successful.

Cirroch remains capable of fighting.

Cirroch checks 'unconsciousness save' at normal. Cirroch is successful.

Cirroch remains capable of fighting.

Cirroch checks 'unconsciousness save' at normal. Cirroch is successful.

Cirroch remains capable of fighting.

Cirroch checks 'unconsciousness save' at normal. Cirroch is successful.

Cirroch remains capable of fighting.

Cirroch checks 'unconsciousness save' at hard. Cirroch fails.

Cirroch is incapacitated and falls unconscious.

Waldemai cheers from the cheap seats. "Well ffffffought! Ish a great fffffight!" Yeah, that bucket of ale is getting pretty low.

The crowd calls out their delight, more than a few calls for Piccola and Cirroch ringing to the rafters and then rising wildly as Piccola catches the man with a hit that makes some wince with compassion. Valencia's breath catches and she sits up even as the Hart's mercies ready to see to the combatants in the ring. A glance aside and then a blink as Jaenelle is spied and she turns with great suprise and delight. "Cousin? You are here? How wonderful. Welcome, welcome to my Hart," she beams in welcome.

Waldemai's call is heard from below and a slender blonde makes her way through the crowd with another bucket of ale for the man. Swiftly she climbs the ladder and with sure-footed steps she delivers him another bucket, taking the near empty with her.

Patrizio smiles, from where he's settled at the ringside table with the others, the lift of his glass to his lips as the chair beneath him tips back slowly on its back legs, rocking to and fro as he's turning his head. Though at realizing who Valencia's addressing, he does bring the chair back forward onto all four feet again, a little more respectfully.

"You can speak with my wife about if I need help there, good General." Cirroch smiles as they then step into punching and kicking at each other. There's a moment where he looks like he might have the upper hand and then the tables have been turned on him and she's gotten several successive solid hits upon him. He looks like he's about to fall over, but keeps standing back up to step back and trade a punch or two. Then he's sliding to his knees upon the sand to dodge a blow from Piccola and just stops, looking to the stands out of breath. And he's taking the moment to realize that he's near out.

Valencia is overheard praising Piccola: Prowess and flair with a tenacity in a fight that surely makes the gods smile.

Valencia is overheard praising Emberly: A generous promise to support the relief efforts for Astarrea. So very welcome.


Now, a hidden knife just wouldn't be sporting at all.

But the fight? The Marquis and the General put on a hell of a brawl. Fist fights tend to take longer than sword fights, but the likely reason why there was a victor at all is probably due to the length of the exchange. Herself, Piccola's heavily sweating by the end, and the punches and blows Cirroch has delivered to her has resulted in at least some bleeding at the mouth and nose. It is a final, perhaps sly kick to the shoulder that finally puts him over, but the General is quick to reach out and help the Marquis back up to his feet. Panting and exhausted, she can manage a weak, "Good fight," before retiring back where she had been sitting before and give a wave to her Archduchess as she sits back down heavily.

Naturally, she reaches out for her drink and finishes it off.



A dutiful Valardin aide arrives, delivering a message to Piccola before departing.

Jan has left the corner table.

Jaenelle's attention shifts towards Valencia and she smiles over towards the woman, "I hardly ever have the chance to come see your events, and escaped one of my meetings early so I thought I would venture out to attend the ending." Then someone beside Valencia gets her attention, and she moves to settle at the table beside the ring, apparently she is feeling adventurous tonight! When the fight ends without any daggers, Jaenelle cheers anyway, "I cant tell you how many times I witnessed Talen throwing sand in someone's eyes for the advantage. Little cheater."

Jaenelle has joined the ringside table.

Jaenelle is overheard praising Piccola.

Cirroch is overheard praising Piccola: an amazing fist fight

"Oh, gods. He was a devil. But so much fun," Valencia smiles to Jaenelle looking absolutely chuffed to see her cousin joining them. "I know, but to be true, I am thrilled to see you. Sit! Join us, yes? Prince Loke I know you know. How could you not know him," she teases gently before nodding to the lady and prince. "I believe you know Lady Emberly of Crovane, but have you met Prince Patrizio of Pravus?"

Waldemai's bucket is empty and he is full. He climbs down from the rafters and waves out. "Great night of fights, all! All glory to Gloria!"


**********************************************************************
Rumors start to spread through the city late in the night only to be confirmed with the dawn. Archscholar Sina Godsworn has been assassinated during a late night meeting in the city by way of a poisoned blade. The assassin was put down with the help of Princess Katarina Valardin, Lord Griffin Redreef, and Samira Culler in the aftermath. While Lord Griffin and Samira seem to be unhurt, Princess Katarina is rumored to have sustained serious injuries. Many make assumptions as to who ordered the assassination, but no one knows for sure. The Faith and the people of Arx, who greatly respected the Archscholar, grieve for her.
**********************************************************************


Waldemai has left the upper rafters.

A dutiful Valardin aide arrives, delivering a message to Piccola before departing.

Again the crowds cheers, some rising from their seats as Cirroch and Piccola's fists fly. The battle is fierce and the crowd continues to cheer even as the match comes to its conclusion. Again, the Hart's Sergeant of Arms steps back into the center of the ring and holds up his hands with a grin. "Another fine match. Give a cheer for the first fisticuffs of the night. And now, your winner, Lady General Piccola Tessere!"

The crowd cheers again, and the man waits till at least a little calm comes. Holding up a hand again, he nods to the next fighters, "And now we come to the end of tonight's matches. Three cheers for all the combatants! Three cheers for those who championed the relief efforts for Astarrea! And three cheers for the King and Kingdom of Avrum!".

Valencia has left the ringside table.

Ian has left the corner table.


As Piccola starts to put her armament back on, a messenger comes to give her a message.

Practiced eyes read over the missive in a matter of seconds. There's an abrupt change on her face, as if someone had slapped her across the mouth. She nods her head, and then stands up, buckling her sword back into place and checking her gloves to make sure they are readied. Whatever she was given causes the blood from her face to drain away, and slip on a mask of determined fury. Something has happened, clearly, for she starts to the exit with a steady, deliberate pace.

And, unfortunately, without nary a word.



Happiness, a bluebird arrives, delivering a message to Locke before departing.

Emberly has left the ringside table.

A beautiful songbird leaves, following Emberly.

Cirroch has left the ring of valor.

Cirroch has joined the ringside table.

Cirroch steps off the sands and is waving to the bartender to bring the whiskies to the table with Patrizio. Mostly out of breath from the fist fight, he steadies himself by putting a hand upon the table then wipes his face with the other. "That was fun..." a nod to Piccola instead of finishing his statement as he watches her pack to leave.

Bibacious Assistants and Teetotalling Gardeners from the Defense Lab arrives, delivering a message to Cirroch before departing.

Joy, the advisor of roses arrives, following Esme.

Piccola has left the ring of valor.

Pony, a tiny smoke-grey kitten with white points leaves, following Piccola.

The crowd cheers in tandem to the call of a toast. Glasses and voices raise both. As the mercies check upon the warriors once last time, the guests slowly start to disperse once more. Some lingering at the tables or at the bar, or heading to the Hart's main hall. Valencia sits back with a deep and happy breath. "We were able to raise 107,000 silver for the survivors in Astarrea. I am glad. Every silver counts when it comes to helping." A sip is taken and she seems to relax a little more. "I am glad to see you both. It is not often I am blessed with seeing my family with everyone working so hard. I am so grateful to see you."

Jaenelle lifts her voice to Valencia, "House Velenosa shall donate an extra 500,000 silver to that sum."

5 Silvershields, Jeeves, a sophisticated valet arrive, following Rook.

Esme hands a missive back towards Joy. "I don't know. I wasn't given a level of need. Is it where I run in screaming that the world is on fire? Is it where I say I tore my dress?" She just gives a sigh to this and then laughs. It's that kind of laugh that lingers and owns not one ounce of apology to it. Esme's emerald eyes slide over the crowd as if looking for someone in particular. When Jaenelle shouts out, her eyes go there and Esme starts her feline saunter towards the ringside table.

Drake raises his glass as well, though it's likely to be his last for the night. He gives a respectful nod to Jaenelle in honor of her generous donation.

Patrizio smiles when Cirroch's coming over, the lift of his glass to the Redrain Marquis when he's lingering there at the table by the ring with the others. "Do come join us, my lord. I've still not yet had chance to polish off this drink yet." Though one might well get the sense that he's also not rushing through it, as if he's chosen instead to savour the drink before him.

Valencia blinks a moment and then again, her lips popping open for a brief moment with surprise. "Jaenelle, I mean, cousin. Princess," she catches herself and shakes her head, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Cousin," she tries again, her expression fond and grateful. "This is a wonderful thing. I will see that my Hart matches Velenosa's donation as well. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. It will help so many, I am sure," she offers earnestly, just in time to smile to Cirroch and welcome Esme. "That I cannot say, but you are very welcome to join us," Valencia smiles warmly and offers a seat.

Esme has joined the ringside table.

There's a particular feline-like saunter that catches Locke's eye, prompting the Velenosan prince to cant his head, gesturing for Esme to come close.



It's fight night, apparently - and, while it has been quite a while since he has set foot into the Golden Hart's arena, even young man whose life is largely about money likes to watch people get their jaws unhinged from time to time. Good for the blood, watching virility displayed. So long as it isn't yours being spat on the sands. And so, gorgeously-appointed field of indoor combat that it is, dark-haired, green-eyed Rook comes enters, dressed elegantly in shades of purple and bearing the silver wheel of the Consortium on his lapel. Smiling, ever so slightly, as he enters. His own private joke, shared only with him.



Drake has left the corner table.

A chuckle from the Pravusi prince, and a shake of his head, his voice warm and playful. "This is why I don't use /any/ of my titles - it gets confusing to know which one to use when." There's that mirth to his expression as he's sipping whatever the potent potable is before him, and a breath slides from his lips as he's finally rocking the chair back again...

The figure of Rook arriving always draws a few eyes, but for Valencia, it draws a warm smile. Offering the man a graceful nod of welcome that surely invites him to join them at their table. "Minister Rook," the little vixen smiles. "How beautiful to see you in my Hart again. I believe you know my cousin, the Princess Jaenelle of Velenosa. But do you know Lady Esme of Fidante, Prince Locke of Velenosa, Prince Patrizio of Prauvs and the Marquis Cirroch of Sanna," she introduces gently, nodding gracefully to each in kind.

Jaenelle wiggles her fingers in Rook's direction, as he is tied as her second favorite Crown Minister, and first favorite Crown Minister of Income. "Master Rook, I promise you that I have not threatened to destroy the city in some time, but now that you are available once more those thoughts can return with the help of your ledger and funding." Who hasnt wished to destroy Arx every once in awhile. "Princess Valencia, I will send the finds from the bank once I leave here, to you I assume?"

"I believe that Lady Esme and I've made an acquaintance previously," Patrizio offers with warmth, an inclination of his head to Esme when she's coming to join, but there's a more formal bob of that head to Rook. "I've not had the pleasure, my lord. Well met indeed, and a pleasure to make your acquaintance." There's a playfully accusing look to Valencia at her insistence on using his title, but he's clearly having a good time with the matter of it, and a burden he's willing to bear, even as his armour would speak on its own to his position.

Esme prowls to the chair opposite of Locke and sits in it. She may have just brushed against Jaenelle. Then her smile overtakes her features as she looks around. "Thank you for your welcome. It is always so lovely here. One of my favorite places to go is to the rooftop. Glorious really. You have done well." Her emerald eyes stray to Rook as well after she nods her head in greetings towards the others.

The whiskey is brought over to the table and a drinking horn the size of ones head is handed to both Cirroch and Patrizio. "AHA! A proper drink now." Cirroch nods to Jaenelle, Locke, and Esme each after another, a hand to his heart, "Marquis Cirroch Sanna, of Giant's Reach." He then turns to Patrizio, "Sanna whiskey, its young, though will keep you warm from the inside out." And then proceeds to drink in yet another 'Sanna sip'



Aha! Caught out and identified - not that he ever did attempt to hide, of course. A subtle smile lines Rook's lips as he is hailed by nothing less than a gaggle of the city's luminaries, and with a slight dancer's bow made in their direction makes his way to them. Ever so unhurried, but yet he does not impolitely dawdle. Just the right pace.

"Highnesses," he says in a warm baritone as he drws near their table. "Your Grace, and my Lord - it is wonderful to see such a collection of the city's august personages. Truly, I did not expect to find such company." A wink to Jaenelle. "Though if you /do/ begin dismantling the city, Your Grace, I humbly ask that you inform me first - so that I might invest in all the best craftsmen, of course."



As another round of introductions are made, Locke dips his head in a quick greeting for Rook. "Well met, Minister Rook, Marquis Cirroch — I'll, uh, throw Sanna whiskey onto the list." The bridge of his nose scrunches, as he considers the propsect of another whiskey. "The list — that is, for tomorrow, or a later date."

"Your words are kind, Lade Esme. I'm glad you like it so much. The roof garden and terraces are truly beautiful. The view makes me smile every time I see it. I'm glad you enjoy it so much," Valencia nods warmly again as another of her staff arrives to bring bottles and fresh glasses for everyone. "Another fine drink to see into my cellars, I see. I can only hope Missere Master Barkeep Magnnus does not get cross with me as I suggest another expansion to our cellers," she grins impishly.

Patrizio looks somewhat surprised when there's the call for those drinking horns, and a laugh from the Pravusi prince when he's considering it. "I think you're putting me much in danger of needing a room here for the night, as I'm without my centurions to see me home, good Marquis," laughs he to Cirroch, even as he's finishing up the cup that's before him. And a winning smile to Rook. "I know not that I count among such company, but at least I deign to find myself /in/ their company. The better to know what other pleasures to seek out throughout the city, aside from the delights here at her highness' Hart." This, clearly, meant to be towards both Jaenelle and Valencia when he's contemplating how much more of said Sanna whiskey he can handle.

"Always" Jaenelle tells Rook as she stands from the table she had perched at, "we need to discuss the docks now that the Whirlpool Of Bad Decisions moved south and is no longer within the harbor. With more caravels being built, and trade growing by the day, the dock needs updating. I do need to go to the bank though, I promised Princess Valencia a donation." She turns towards her cousin and offers a smile and dip of her head.

Cirroch looks to Patrizio, and takes the second horn from the man as he is readying to make his leave. "More for me then." There's a smile, not a drunken one as some might expect. "It was good to see you again, Prince Patrizio, I'll bring a sword for you to play with in the future if you'd rather than to worry about the axes again."

"You'd not rather see how I cope with an axe?" Oh, /that/ brings out delight in the eyes of the Pravusi prince when he's willing to be baited into a tease for the matter by Cirroch. "Plus it'd offer me an interesting challenge. Something I've not had excuse to have to learn to use."

Esme slides to her feet from the table as if she's just sat down and now finds herself unable to sit still. In fact, she's moving over towards Locke's seat. There is a pause and the lady will /attempt/ to hug anyone that has the misfortune to be sitting at the ringside table or near to it. Hugs for everyone. Hugs for free. She will also reach over and try to take the drink in front of Locke to knock it back like she was raised by wolves in the North or something.

"Please, no. Sit and enjoy. It is so rare we get to visit," Valencia says with a lift of a hand seeming loath to have her cousin head off so soon after arriving. "You work so hard and rush about so much. Please. A moment to catch breath. The donation can wait, yes? Seeing family is much more important," she encourages with a little nod of her head. A gentle look is offered to Patrizio.. "Thank you again, highness. I am grateful for your kindness and for your donation. You will return soon, I hope," she asks with a gentle smile. "Perhaps we might enjoy the Marquis find drink again, yes?" she smiles to Cirroch and back before happily hugging Esme back with equal affection as offered.

Jaenelle slides a carefully folded package to Esme, within clearly something extremely delicate, "for you." Then she reaches over to scrunch Locke's beard, "be good."



"A man is the room he's in, Highness," says Rook with a nod to Patrizio. "Or so I've heard it said. So, by that merit we shall find ourselves ever greatly enriched by those with whom you share your table." His hands tucked behind his back, Rook stands by the table, nodding his head again to the other nobles seated at the table. Lovely conversaion, but he keeps his place - and without invitation to sit, that is, of course, exactly where he should be.



Patrizio has left the ringside table.

Jaenelle has left the ringside table.

12 House Velenosa Guards, Ibasia, the Velenosa Lady-in-Waiting, Ellani, the palm sized spider leave, following Jaenelle.

Cirroch has left the ringside table.

"Oh, sweet, poor Esme," Locke says of the Devotion who knocks back the drink. The heel of his palm is pressed against his forehead, and he sighs, shaking his head. "I'm not taking responsibility for that." Once he's fully on his feet, he leans into the beard scrunching like some sort of cat — clearly gone at this point — and then he's turning for the door. "Ah, how lucky. Jaenelle never gives me gifts."