2 Farshaw trained guards, Suzette - a Westrock Aerie Page arrive, following Ryhalt.

2 House Lyonesse Adept Guards, 1 Lyonesse Trained Guards, Haylen, the Lyonesse's Taskmaster arrive, following Demura.

Winter, A Highhill Puppy arrives, following Kiera.

Rupert, the Laurent Archivist, 2 Valardin Knights, 1 Laurent veteran guards arrive, following Cristoph.

Ryhalt has joined the West Spectator Seating.

Felicia has joined the Fighting Pit.

Isabeau stands, as ever, near the thick of the action. In this circumstance, it is a field prepared for the grand melee. She smiles sweetly and seraphically at all those filtering in and out, even as some of the Telmarine armsmen run drills in the background. For this event, the Duchess is attired in rose gold and pale rose red in various fabrics, glittering, glimmering and looking quite pretty, if she does say so herself. "Welcome everyone on my and Duke Ansel's behalf to the third event in Telmar's Knight Games! The Grand Melee!" she calls out in her sweet voice, "We will be accepting entrants into the game for a few minutes more. And in addition to the award to the winner, we will be making a donation in their name to the cause of their choice at the closing ball. For those participating, I bid you to fight, as ever, with honor."

Drake has joined the Fighting Pit.

Alantir has joined the Fighting Pit.

Cristoph has joined the Fighting Pit.

Brigid has joined the Fighting Pit.

Thea has joined the Fighting Pit.

Alis has joined the Fighting Pit.

Kiera has joined the West Spectator Seating.

Denica has joined the West Spectator Seating.

Felicia sketches a bow for Isabeau as she takes a spot among the fighters on the field. Greeting her fellow competitors with a respectful dip of her head as she waits for information.

Alis has left the Fighting Pit.

Sir Rhys, a Valardin Knight, Laurene, a military adjutant, 10 Valardin Knights leave, following Alis.

Jerome, a bodyguard, Elaine, an older courtier, Morgana, a proper secretary, 2 Valardin Knights, Bijou the Jewel, the Graypeak Mountain Dog arrive, following Isabeau.

Ryhalt smiles as he takes a seat long the western seats, intending to watch the fighting feats of the tournament.

Drake joins the pit as well. He's in a heavy coat for this bout, possibly for winter warmth, but also, the leather does offer some protection. Hopefully it won't slow him down too much whtn the competition becomes more fierce in this fight.

Sir Rhys, a Valardin Knight, Laurene, a military adjutant, 10 Valardin Knights arrive, following Alis.

Sir Rhys, a Valardin Knight, Laurene, a military adjutant, 10 Valardin Knights leave, following Alis.

Kiera enter the grounds to cheer drake and thea as they participate in the melee and climbs onto the west benches'

Pale fingers reach into the caverns of her cloak's hood and pulls it back, revealing a winter flushed face. Denica drops her hands to her sides, burying fingers and navigating tulle. The young woman's gown indicative of her status as a spectator. The dress was not made for fighting, officially, at least. Her eyes sparkle with curiosity, pausing briefly, as though hit suddenly by nostalgia. There's an easy smile on her lips, well rehearsed and befitting a social environment. Attention drifts from the entirety of the room to selection a place to sit, she glances down the length of her shoulder at those already gathered there. Denica lifts up her scarf and waves it in Thea's direction, betraying where her cheering will focus.

Sir Rhys, a Valardin Knight, Laurene, a military adjutant, 10 Valardin Knights arrive, following Alis.

Alis has joined the Fighting Pit.

Thea makes her way to the pit, dressed and as ready as she'll ever be. Hearing Denica, she amusedly lifts her hand. "Hey Den,"Thea greets in indication that's she seen AND heard her friend. Jogging over to Drake, she chuckles,"So---are we waggering or anything on this for us?"

Isabeau looks rather eager as her bright eyes flick over the contestants. "My! We have such an array of people with something to prove. This should prove quite a show. And I think with that, combatants! Fight with honor, the flats of your blades and fear no enemy! Begin!" She calls out, hands clasped before herself.

Wearing a set of perfectly serviceable steel plate and nothing else exciting, Cristoph enters the field. He definitely makes eye contact with Alis before starting and points his sword at her. Is that a challenge? Planning?! Mystery!

Cristoph wields a sword made of swords.

Thea wields Skystrike, the finely crafted diamondplate kopis.

Felicia wields frozen washes of the tempest seas handsome Oathlands broadsword.

Alis wields snowdrop of the Greenwood ornate steel sword.

Alantir, adorned in simple but well-maintained platemail, plants the edge of his longsword into the fighting pit's frozen earth before raising and folding his arms across breastplate. Is he cold and uncomfortable? Undoubtedly. Will he suffer from exposure? Unlikely. Can anyone tell? The knight's helm cants to the side, permitting overcast gaze to scane the faces of his competitors. Hopefully not.

Alantir wields Wyrmsong.

Isabeau has joined the West Spectator Seating.

Mattheu has joined the West Spectator Seating.

Steel doesn't just bend, it also dents. And wouldn't you know, that Alis is always looking to dent some armor (she'll get it fixed before returning it Issy, she promises). Her expression is almost cheerful when Cristoph points his sword at her though, and she makes a 'bring it' gesture back. May the first person to get a face full of snow by falling, not win.

Drake looks at Thea, and lets out a sigh. He turns to pull his longsword... no point in using anything else or this melee is going to be at his disadvantage. But he'll stick with the flats of course, and hope the opponent's armors also blunt any strikes. Its name is appropriate in this winter weather. "All right, I'll wager... hm, what is appropriate? A bottle of the victor's favorite drink." He might be getting ready to duel his own wife in this start of this bout, but... "We can team up, of course. An alliance is good to stop the competition. But then is it a wager?"

Drake wields Icewind, a Diamondplate Longsword.

With the sound of soft melodic chimes, and dressed as the wind wanders a young Rivenshari before stopping briefly to find a spot to spectate from.

Quietly standing aside and brandishing her greatsword, Brigid glances askance at Alantir and his frigid posturing which cause a grin to flourish before it's hidden by helm. "I hope you're better here than you were in the training ring."

Sir Rhys, a Valardin Knight have been dismissed.

10 Valardin Knights have been dismissed.

Rupert, the Laurent Archivist have been dismissed.

2 Valardin Knights have been dismissed.

1 Laurent veteran guards have been dismissed.

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

Felicia can't help the grin as she listens to plans being made. Though she draws her broadsword she doesn't seem to be picking targets or allies, so far at least. The redheaded Harrow patiently waiting for the signal to begin aside from the limbering up with her broadsword and quietly assessing the others.

2 House Lyonesse Adept Guards, 1 Lyonesse Trained Guards, Haylen, the Lyonesse's Taskmaster leave, following Demura.

3 Pravus Honor Guard, Edmund, Paxton the Party Pigeon arrive, following Bridget.

Watching the happenings in the melee, "It seems as though the current pairings are High Lady Alis and Duke Cristoph, Count Drake and Countess Thea against Dame Felicia, with Lady Brigid going for Prince Alantir going for, well, anyone." Isabeau remarks with some amusement on the happenings in the field.

It would seem that Cristoph was very serious when he pointed at Alis at the start of the tournament, because dedicates basically all of his time to repeatedly swinging on one of his best friends in this world. Over and over. And over. And- and then Alantir hits him. Which seems to come as a surprise for whatever reason, he swings to return the favor but the man has already moved on. So he whips around and tries to wail on the High Lord of the Oathlands. Again.

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

Brigid remains capable of fighting.

Drake starts up on Felicia first, since she seemed ready and waiting to fight. There's a brief exchange of blows... with no clear victor, though a strike does hit his thick coat and glance off the leather that protects him. With a bit of a back and forth between them, Drake sees when Thea is stepping in to back him up, and... for a second, turns his attention on Alantir, whom he hasn't faced before in a battle and is curious to test. Distracted by this, he takes a good hit from Brigid when his attention isn't on her... but still that coat seems to protect him. He turns to her, not wanting to make the same mistake twice, and faces her directly. "I've tried to watch my back during these chaotic things, but something always does manage to get to me somehow," he says... but then he strikes out at her with a good slap from the sword.

Likewise, Alis has been focused entirely on taking down Duke Laurent. Unfortunately, they seem rather evenly matched. Blows are traded again and again, sometimes with a glancing hit to armor and others with just a clash of blades. That is, until Alantir takes a good solid whack with that sword of is. "Nice assist! Not that it's actually... helping /me/ score a hit." That last part muttered quietly while she swings again.

Bouncing on her feet, Thea is watching to see who her better opponent would be. She knows a bit about a few. She winks at Drake as well, before setting her sites on Felicia. Thea enjoys this dance with the woman and off she goes. She doesn't get far before she gets a hit herself.."She grins a bit, saying,"Well then,"wiping the sweat from her brow. Looking quickly about, she checks to make sure she's still free of anyone else.

Denica has since found a slender flask and she is sipping on it casually as she watches the fights break out, respectively. Her eyes dark back and forth, and there is some level of amusement on her features. Despite her demure stature, she's quite loud and so random bursts of general cheering carries out between quieter small talk with those seated nearby. Her eyes sparkle with enthusiasm, quite taken by the martial prowess on display.

It had started with an intense focus on Prince Alantir, a badgering assault of blows as he seemed fit to go after various folk but turning on the Wyvernheart was just too good to pass up. There is a throaty chuckle at the Sword's words, "As if you didn't find me irritating enough outside the ring."

Felicia finds herself facing Drake and Thea from the outset, fending off both for a time with a merry grin. When Drake breaks off for other targets, though, Thea gets a good strike in on her, much to the redheaded Harrow's grimace, acknowledged with a respectful dip of her head and a breathless kind of laugh,"Somehow I don't think I'm likely to win this one." the knight acknowledging, even if she doesn't seem set to give up quite yet.

Alantir is taking considerable pleasure in the mindlessness of this melee. Parry, riposte, pommel strike. High guard, low guard. He's hit -- of course he's hit, the battlefield is chaotic -- but then he's back to it. It's very likely that he doesn't care who he is attacking. It was all in good fun!

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

Brigid remains capable of fighting.

With the tournament continuing to wage on around them, Cristoph gets one incredibly unimpressive dink against Alis' armor. He laughs when it dents, "I'm satisfied now," he declares and looks like he's about to throw his sword to the ground entirely. But he wouldn't dare. "I think your cousin is rather unmarked however, I think it's time I try and return the favor. Do you want to help?" Do you want to help beating up your cousin, Alis???

Brigid checks 'unconsciousness save' at normal. Brigid marginally fails.

Brigid is incapacitated and falls unconscious.

Alis is... hit! Not a lot, but Cristoph gets that first score against her and so she sniffs and makes a face under that helmet. But lo', as true friends do - he offers an outlet for her irritation. "Oh! Nice idea!" She readily agrees of course, turning to face poor Alantir. Who is so far unscathed.

"Alright, alright." Is breathed out in a pant as Brigid falters, taking a knee instantly and removing her helm, "I yield." Easing to her feet and taking herself off out of the ring with a noticeable limp and probably tons of bruises just lurking beneath.

Kiera turns her attention back to the fight as Thea gets a hit on Felicia "Way to go Thea" she calls fr and then watches Alantir go after her brother

Hissing out a breath, Isabeau looks out on the field remarking, "Oh look! Ali and Duke Laurent are teaming up this time. How interesting!"

Drake keeps his focus mostly on Brigid for this part of the bout. He fences with her until she takes a knee, at which point he nods once, and holds his sword in a defensive position so that she can get up and rise from the field without any impediment. "Well fought," he says to her, keeping his eyes on the rest of the competition. A fake at Alantir... but he's hard to hit and a little piled on besides, so his eyes again more elsewhere.

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

Cristoph remains capable of fighting.

That's going to hurt later. Despite a long and protracted assault on Alantir with the help of Alis, the other man continues to outstep him and also, more importantly perhaps, out-hit him. Cristoph takes a heavy blow that has the duke stumbling backward and working to re-establish his footing more he can launch back in again.

Alis feels as though it is her duty to ensure everyone takes at least one hit, and as she finally manages to land a minor hit against her cousin - to which she salutes him afterwards - she starts turning towards Drake. Though, one hand stretches out to offer to steady Cristoph instead at the last moment.

Felicia is definitely going turtle mode, striking where she can with that big sword of hers, but staying on the defensive to try and keep herself protected, sometimes against two, sometimes against three. The Harrow's definitely showing signs of fatigue, but so far at least, hasn't given up the fight.

There's a lot of figthing going on between Felicia and Thea. They're dedicated to EACHOTHER! Thea continues to push and duck, but damnit! Felicia is getting her hits in, even as Felicia is getting struck herself. Thea? Her breath is ragged and dripping sweat. Nothing attractive at all going on around here.

With all of the additional activity, Drake is... perhaps predictably, finally starting to get tired -- a heavy coat protects him from blows, and from snow, but it's also a lot to move around in after a while. In a bid to get a bit of extra mobility, he rolls it off his shoulders and tosses it aside to pick up later. This is partially done as a bid toward crowd-pleasing, as a Champion must also be a showman. But he's still got a shirt and dueling vest on, so it's not as dramatic as he'd be in the summer. He's still exchanging blows with Felicia at the moment while she goes on the defensive, but notices the lunge from Alis and watches his flank.

Alantir has committed to Cristoph. Not out of spite, but because the Duke fights savagely. These strikes, for now, cannot be ignored. "I'm not enjoying this!" he calls, tone apologetic and sincere.

"Why not? You're supposed to! This is a tournament!" Cristoph calls back.

"Pretend he's a training dummy!" Alis offers, helpfully.

Isabeau clasps her hands together, "Dame Felicia is still being teamed up on, and still stands! How remarkable!"

"You've always been kind to me!" It's hard to hear anything over the sound of metal colliding with metal, but it was worth a shot. Yes, a training dummy. With a sword made of swords.

From the benches is Brigid taking an inspection of the well aimed jabs and there is a wince at a particularly nasty one, however the roundabout battle has caught her attention which is still watched with a vested interest, "Pretend you're squashing bugs!" Is called out towards Alantir or really anyone who hates bugs.

"That's not very nice!" Cristoph calls to Alis.

"I could have said to pretend you were a centipede." Alis counters, and nods at Brigid. "See? I believe you have just been called an insect."

Kiera remarks to her companions " I've never seen Prince Alantir fight before. He's quite good..Dame Felicia is a formidable woman to be certain" she agrees

Despite having been teamed up with Alis for awhile now, Cristoph returns to trying to his friend which surely has nothing do with being called a training dummy.

The color drains from Brigid's face briefly, "Not that you're a bug!"

Alis is also being so helpful, while ducking out of the way of Alantir and countering Drake.. and then Cristoph. Sheesh, people! "Okay, okay! I'm not funny. I get it. Sheesh!"

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

Cristoph remains capable of fighting.

Drake crosses swords with Alis, while briefly fending off comers from other sides. He takes a sharp breath in, snow in his eyes, but melting as it hits his brow. "I'd have laughed. But I'm busy!"

Another hit, another need to step back from his encounters with Alantir. But at this point, Cristoph seems to give up on his minor feuding with Alis and commits entirely to harrying the Valardin prince without quitting.

"Don't fight it, man! Rest! Eat a sandwich -- with utensils!" Alantir shouts, his words intended for the duke and his ensuing laughter muffled by helm.

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

Cristoph remains capable of fighting.

Isabeau calls out, "Should I go up to my room and get my insect repellent to get you all to stop talking about it?"

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

Cristoph remains capable of fighting.

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

Thea remains capable of fighting.

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

Thea remains capable of fighting.

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

Cristoph remains capable of fighting.

Alis could be said to have far too much fun, even when there are hits from multiple sides. "Goodness. Duke Laurent and Countess Thea - both have taken quite some damage. And yet... I feel there should be a prize just for that, yes?"

Cristoph checks 'unconsciousness save' at normal. Cristoph marginally fails.

Cristoph is incapacitated and falls unconscious.

Drake has a bit of back and forth with Alis, still managing to avoid the worst of her blows. But then seeing that Thea might be faltering.... he turns back to Felicia, just out of loyalty to back up his wife. They apparently made a bit of a pact earlier about this... or maybe it was a bet? But that's his chivalry, as it is.

Alis feels obligated to turn back to Alantir after that, bracing herself after she sees the Duke finally stagger. Payback. Or, to follow the same path down to the snow?

Felicia is definitely showing the strain of trying to keep up, taking the breath where she can get it and is only facing Thea. There's some strain to her grin and she's definitely slower on the swing than she was, but endeavours to maintain her own as long as she can,"Thank the gods none of you actually /look/ like bugs, at least." she chimes in with a shudder.

Thea gasps out at Alis, pushing briefly back away from Felicia. She may have tried to help the others by taking a few swings at Alantir, but you know---no preval. "I don't know. I think---Felicia here is fighting off everyone,"going at her again.

Thea checks 'unconsciousness save' at normal. Thea fails.

Thea is incapacitated and falls unconscious.

While it's unlikely that anyone is going to talk about this being the pair up of the century, Cristoph may come out of this with a minor reputation for being doggedly persistent in his fighting technique. He matches himself up against Alantir's skill again and again until he finally takes a hit from his sword that's powerful enough that he /must/ yield. "I yield!" he calls out, and holds his sword up to indicate he won't strike again. Really, he's serious. This time he won't strike again. With a quick bow to his opponent, he quits the field. Limping. Thankfully it's winter and ice is abundant!

Cristoph has left the Fighting Pit.

Brigid has left the Fighting Pit.

There wasn't even enough time to offer the Duke a polite nod. Cristoph's avenger materializes in the form of the Princess of Sanctum herself. "We both know I'm not going to last much longer," Alantir calls, shifting into a low guard.

Cristoph has joined the East Spectator Seating.

Cristoph has left the East Spectator Seating.

Cristoph has joined the West Spectator Seating.

Thea is definitely done and breathing rough. When Felicia knocks her down, she knocks her down. With a tired smile, she gives a respectful nod before hurrying from the grounds to get trampled.

Drake tries to stand in the way for Thea by taking on Felicia, but Thea is starting to falter. He looks at her with a bit of a sad expression.... but this fight isn't for keeps, so a second later he forces himself back to a smile. "Get some rest," he says, stepping into her spot, and bracing his sword with both hands, "You earned it."

From the benches where Cristoph is having his armor removed, he calls out to Alis, "Revenge me!"

"Well fought!" Felicia huffs for Thea when she withdraws, cast almost over her shoulder given the necessity of turning her attention to Drake,"I'm... surprised... I didn't see you at the equestrian course." she mentions to the Wyvernheart breathlessly, adopting a defensive high guard with the tip of her large blade left drooping towards the snow.

"Or avenge me! Whichever!"

Alis hoists her sword up in the air. "For that least hit to Duke Laurent's already bad knees!" Avenge, and troll at the same time.

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

Felicia remains capable of fighting.

Kiera abandons whatever banter she was engaged in with the Riveshari lord momentarily with a polite nod and goes to help thea from the field

Drake is starting to get tired, and Felicia got a good hit in, cracking her blade against his unprotected shoulder. He takes a breath himself... turning his sword and moving ... as if to run her through, only pulling the hit to the side at the last second but getting in a good side-strike regardless. He looks both glad, and tired. "I can't ... join every competition. Sometimes duty calls." He grins. "... Or I might win them all but I try to be modest."

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

Felicia remains capable of fighting.

Felicia checks 'unconsciousness save' at normal. Botch! Felicia fails badly.

Felicia is incapacitated and falls unconscious.

Thea has left the Fighting Pit.

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

And so there were three. "Your Grace?" the knight mutters, glancing between Drake and his highlord. He is torn, albeit briefly, between loyalty and a perceived imbalance. If they worked together, they might stand a chance -- but he did not know Alis' intentions.

Felicia's defeat was inevitable, especially weathering the punishing blows from Drake, and all it takes is one misstep, a shift of her weight on an icy patch that leaves her completely open for the bruising strike and woomf, down she goes in a puff of snow and flailing limbs. It's going to take her a little while to at least catch her breath and stop seeing spiders dancing above her head... but she does eventually manage to turn over and ungracefully crawl for the sidelines.

Alis pauses in any swing against her cousin, when Felicia goes down. And, after a hit from Drake that prompts a grunt (and a scowl) from her - she turns towards the Wyrmguard and nods at Alantir.

Drake takes a strike from the other man, but turns ... his attention now on him, briefly. Drake looks him in the eye. "I don't believe we've sparred before now, have we? I think I would've remembered. I guess this is a fine place for introductions. You learn a lot about a man from his fighting style."

"Alantir Norstone, my lord. It has been a privilege to fight with -- and alongside -- you," the prince replies, offering another polite dip of gaze and shifting his guard.

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

Alantir remains capable of fighting.

Isabeau leans forward a little, watching the action with obvious interest. "Oh, this is getting very good."

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

Alantir is incapacitated and falls unconscious.

"Norstone?" Alis huffs that out, sounding a bit on the exhausted side here. "Who..." Welp, he might be too out of breath to answer after that last swing from Drake. "Is Norstone from another side of the family?" She's not getting over that apparently, at least not yet. But, she will wait until her cousin is up and out of the fighting pit before turning to Drake. Last two standing.

Drake focuses his attention on the prince for the time being. He's fending off attacks from Alis at this point, too, as he can. It's possibly just the make of his sword that's giving him the edge now... the fatigue is weighing on him as he must split his focus. But nonetheless, he keeps his attention on Alantir for the moment. "A pleasure. I'm Drake Wyvernheart. Count of Highhill now, but I got my start as a duelist..." And apparently he hasn't lost his striking arm, despite his focus on other duties. "So I love a good bout when I can get one." He strikes, turns, then looks back at the Highlord with all his remaining attention.

Alis checks 'unconsciousness save' at easy. Critical Success! Alis is spectacularly successful.

Alis remains capable of fighting.

Alis checks 'unconsciousness save' at normal. Alis marginally fails.

Alis is incapacitated and falls unconscious.

And now there were two. The knight, breathless, miscalculates. Drake's riposte is swift and ruthless. He stumbles backwards and very nearly collapses, but a knee and the flat of his longsword are used to prevent a catastrophic fall. "Well fought, Duke Wyvernheart," Alantir coughs, slowly rising to feet. "By your leave, Your Grace," is muttered shortly after, offering Alis and the tournament's victor a formal bow.

Cristoph is overheard praising Drake.

Cristoph is overheard praising Alis.

Cristoph is overheard praising Alantir.

Brigid is overheard praising Drake.

Brigid is overheard praising Alis.

Cristoph is overheard praising Isabeau.

Brigid is overheard praising Alantir.

Drake is overheard praising Isabeau.

Alantir is overheard praising Drake.

Drake is overheard praising Alis.

Alantir is overheard praising Alis.

Drake is overheard praising Alantir.

Alantir is overheard praising Felicia.

Denica is overheard praising Isabeau.

Drake is overheard praising Brigid.

Drake is overheard praising Felicia.

Brigid is overheard praising Cristoph.

Alantir is overheard praising Cristoph.

Drake is overheard praising Cristoph.

Drake is overheard praising Thea.

Felicia is overheard praising Drake: Well fought!

Felicia is overheard praising Alis.

Felicia is overheard praising Thea.

Felicia is overheard praising Alantir.

Felicia is overheard praising Brigid.

When the last hit comes, Alis quite soon after joins Alantir by having to brace with her sword on one knee. "Well fought, Count Wyvernheart." she concedes. "I've a bottle of Wyrmguard whiskey that will help me take the edge of that last swing."

Felicia is overheard praising Cristoph.

Alis is overheard praising Isabeau.

Alis is overheard praising Alantir.

Alis is overheard praising Drake.

Denica is overheard praising Felicia.

Denica is overheard praising Brigid.

Denica is overheard praising Cristoph.

Denica is overheard praising Alantir.

Denica is overheard praising Drake.

Denica is overheard praising Thea.

Isabeau claps her hands, giving a soft gasp at Drake's victory as she lifts up to her feet, exclaiming, "And that, I think, marks the /second/ event that Count Drake Wyvernheart has won in our Knight Games. The Count truly does the Oathlands proud. That was really a toss-up the whole way!"

Isabeau is overheard praising Drake.

Isabeau is overheard praising Alis.

Isabeau is overheard praising Alantir.

Ryhalt applauds loudly for Drake's win. "That was a closer fight than I was expecting."

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

Denica cheers at the end of the fight, clapping with both hands. "Well fought!," she shouts.

Kiera is overheard praising Isabeau.

Kiera is overheard praising Brigid.

"Well fought!" Felicia offers from where she managed to park herself at the sidelines with a brief laugh,"Gods... I'm going to feel that for a few weeks." she adds more quietly with a grimace, finally working her way onto her feet.

Kiera is overheard praising Cristoph.

Kiera is overheard praising Thea.

"It was a close fight to be sure," Drake says. He gives a dip of his head, respectfully, toward Alis. Then toward Isabeau. "Thank you for organizing these remarkable events. Now I am pleased to have narrowly secured a victory, but trust me, I am just as sore and tired as everyone else who fought here." he says. It is true that he hobbles a little as he walks off the field of battle, but then he takes another deep bow... for the stands, in the back row.

Kiera is overheard praising Felicia.

Isabeau raises her hand gently as she states, her voice raised a little, "There is still one event yet, the joust. Anyone interested still has the opportunity to sign up to participate."

Kiera is overheard praising Alis.

Cristoph has left the West Spectator Seating.

Kiera is overheard praising Alantir.

Kiera is overheard praising Drake.

Alantir returns his longsword to its scabbard and retreats from the ring with a determined, if not slightly fatigued, Oathlander's gait. He unbuckles his armet, surveys the crowd for the dragoon who had accompanied him, and -- upon spotting her -- moves to seat himself at her side. "Well?" he inquires, a brow raised expectantly. "I'm waiting."

Denica has left the West Spectator Seating.

a reserved assistant named Stojan, 3 Inquisition Confessors, 3 Thrax Guards, 1 Thrax Elite Guards, a silent, nondescript man, named Cato leave, following Denica.