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Bhandn and Porter's BIG FIGHT

Sir Bhandn has challenged Archlector Porter to a competition! And Porter has accepted! What are they up to? What happens if Bhandn loses? Come find out and cheer on your favorite competitor. Or better yet, join in!


Nov. 21, 2021, 2 p.m.

Hosted By

Bhandn Porter


Cassandra Azova Kastelon Bree



Arx - Ward of the Compact - The Training Center

Largesse Level


Comments and Log

The chanting is what everyone will hear first. It's a faint, repeated sound, coming from outside the building that is the Training Center, one that quickly becomes distinguishable as the crowd comes closer. The words, "FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!" are spoken over and over again, but the source of the caterwauling is not immediately obvious. Only when the group approaches the Center does it become clear that the Silver Order of the Knights of Solace has turned out in force for this particular event. How did they know? Bhandn told everyone he could ambush at the House of Solace that he knew was discreet.

What he also told them was that they had to find Porter and urgently request the Archlector's presence at the House for a "serious matter", a matter of judgment on hospitality or something like that. They had made up the story just to lure him there. Then about six knights grabbed hold of him, and six found Sir Bhandn, and the two men found themselves physically ushered away to the Training Center, that chant bringing with it more and more of the Order. That hadn't been part of the plan; the Order took it upon themselves to make a scene.

Bhandn and Porter arrive while lifted over the heads of six knights each, before they're set down next to a table and two chairs that had been set up in advance of their arrival. That chanting doesn't stop until they're sitting down.

2 Keaton Huntsmen, Resolute, an Oakhaven bloodhound, Dart, a Kite of the Cloudspine arrive, following Kastelon.

There are times in the life of a Legate of the Faith where one must simply stop what one is doing and watch a situation as it unfolds. In one corner of the Training Center, Mother Cassandra Laurent had been sparring with a nameless (not literally nameless, but for purposes of this paragraph we as readers simply do not care about her name) Templar Knight. Nothing special, just moving, staying limber, keeping bone spurs from forming around old injuries now that she's well past thirty and thus at least halfway through her expected lifespan. And then their spar petered out as they watched the Knights of Solace do... all of /that/. "I'll catch up with you later," Cassandra says to Dame Sparring Partner. She turns and begins to approach -- not coming /too/ close. Maintaining a healthy and safe distance to... stare.

Azova heard the chants - how could she not, when she was, you know, right there at the House of Solace. The joys and downfalls of two orders sharing the same space. And of /course/ she followed, with really only a mild look of disapproval. This doesn't /sound/ like a Rite to Gloria. But one never knows!

Porter has been KIDNAPPED which he will insist seems really over the top for something he would have agreed to do anyway! Once he realizes that the kidnapping is being done for fun and not some other nefarious purpose. He also probably feels a lot of sympathy for anyone who decided it was a good idea to try and hauling him around over their heads, combined efforts or not! And then he's being placed on the ground, laughing heartily, he sweeps into a bow and thanks the knights for the transport to the training center. He lowers himself into the chair which is really more of a calculated fall and waits for Bhandn to also be seated. "Are you ready?"

Kastelon arrives, following the sounds of the people gathered in the training center. With Resolute at his side, and Dart on his wrist, he's peering about for a few moments, and then quietly making his way over to the side to settle himself, the brief furrowing of his brows as he's looking to see what's foot...

There is no way Bree would miss this. She's come early, she has a front row seat, she's grabbed Azova's arm and shook it several times in her excitement. AHHH. But then Porter is being 'escorted' in, and she laughs in surprise, calling out, "Do you need help out there?" She has no plans to leave her perch, however, scooting to the edge of the bench to watch.

Azova cannot in good conscience look disapproving anymore, when Bree is looking /so excited/! And then grabbing her arm! And shaking it! It could be the over-shoulder escort, or it could just be Bree's excitement that prompts her to laugh alongside her friend. Regardless, she scoots forward to the edge of the bench as well, to have the best view. And, to make sure the attending healers are paying close attention. Obviously.

For himself, Bhandn had found the kidnapping exasperating, particularly when up he went over some heads as he was taken into the Training Center. "I'm dueling ALL OF YOU for this," was his threat to his comrades, which only got a few laughs that did nothing to diminish the FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT that they were chanting. He's got the look of a man whose plan went way outside the parameters, so when he's set down next to the chair there's a faint glower on his face before he finally catches sight of Porter seated across, at which point Bhandn's expression aims for that of the predator. Sitting down, he looks at the Archlector and says, "Yes," before he's putting his elbow on the table and holding up his hand. "Let's find out if you've gotten fat on us after becoming Archlector," he says, and there his mouth splits into a grin.

Kastelon allows an eyebrow to rise when he's listening as he settles in comfortably, nodding to the semi-familiar faces about before he's easing his tall frame into a seat. A hand slides out to pat lightly at the back of Resolute's head to calm the canine as he's cocking his head and considering the banter back and forth.

The Legate of Arts' hands come to rest on her hips. Cassandra's stance is a neutral one -- not relaxed, and not quite on guard, either. It's her expression that gives away what she's thinking. The way the faint crows' feet at the corners of her eyes are just a bit more defined from tension, the way her lips are parted just enough to /technically/ be open-mouthed at what she's witnessing. Mother Cassandra is, in a word, baffled. Her eyes cast over toward Azova and Bree, and she gives them a questing look, as if to silently ask, 'What are they doing?'

Porter looks like a person who finds Bhandn's exasperation over his out of control plan to be the funniest part of his day. He slaps his hand down on the table, a great guffaw of laughter escaping him before he gets it together again. A broad grin is bestowed upon the older knight and he plants his elbow down on the table. His fingers wiggle in the air, inviting Bhandn to grasp his hand. His other hand is held up, finger and thumb held slightly apart, "Maybe just a little fat," he admits with a roguish angle to that smile. Once they're both read, one of the knights that's waiting nearby counts down...3...2...1...

*** Porter has called for an opposing check with Bhandn. ***
Porter checks strength and brawl at easy. Porter is successful.
Bhandn checks strength and brawl at easy. Bhandn is successful.
*** The rolls are tied. ***

"He's as fit as ever!" Bree calls out hopefully to Bhandn's talk, even as Porter might be confirming some of that extra cushion. Cassandra looks over and Bree just grins widely, waving a hand toward the action. It begins, and they're so perfectly matched in their arm wrestling skill that the struggle begins. "You got this, Porter! Er... Archlector! YOU GOT THIS!" But because Bhandn is also her friend? "You got this, Bhandn!" She looks to Azova quickly, asking, "Who do you think will win?"

Azova appears horrified that she's been asked to weigh in, but... "Porter, I think. Unless he's only been lifting pastries instead of weights." is added, as she bases her guess on how many times the Archlector has knocked her flat in the training ring. "I still remember all my bruises when I would try to test my new dagger skills and fall woefully short." She pitches her voice just high enough that it should reach the competitors as well when she adds. "They look constipated when they strain like that, don't they?"

3...2...1....GO and Bhandn is already straining to bring the Archlector's arm down to one side. Bhandn's hand grips the side of the table like it were driftwood in storm-churned waters, and Bhandn flailing to stay above the surface of the water. Porter might be getting a little chonkers by his own admission, but Bhandn is having a time of it. His face is contorted into a rictus of strain as he squeezes Porter's hand and push push pushes against the other man's strength. No words, just grunts come out of the older knight's lips.

Porter pushes his hand! And it goes /nowhere/. There's a small grunt of surprise to find that they're not making anyway headway at all at this juncture, so he starts to laugh. Should a person be fighting mid-arm wrestling contest? Who knows! It's definitely not written down in the rules anywhere. But the laugh transitions over to a growl and now he tries harder to edge Bhandn's arm down, down, down... down?

*** Porter has called for an opposing check with Bhandn. ***
Porter checks strength and brawl at easy. Porter is successful.
Bhandn checks strength and brawl at easy. Critical Success! Bhandn is spectacularly successful.
*** Bhandn is the winner. ***

Cassandra's look of bafflement changes to look of understanding in an instant, once Bree waves her attention back toward the display of big meaty-armed men gripping each other's meathooks -- or something like that. "Ah," says the Legate of Arts. She begins walking closer, to get a better view the action. "It's in the grip," Cassandra offers toward Azova and Bree. "The right grip, and a strong wrist and forearm."

Bree releases Azova's arm to cup both hands around her mouth and shout, "It is in the grip!" This was helpfully murmured by Cassandra, and she's playing messenger.

An arched brow, but it's clear that Kastelon is listening to the back and forth between Azova, Bree, and Cassandra, since they seem to be far more knowledgable about the matter of how this is going to go down than he is. In the meantime, Resolute's settling down as if this is as good a place as any for him to rest.

Is Bhandn just playing to the crowd, the Knights now chanting "HOO HOO HOO" at the two of them duking it out at arm wrestling? He might have been, because at first he was straining against Porter, but suddenly Bhandn invokes a wellspring of strength that sees the Archlector's arm gradually move in Bhandn's favor, and suddenly there's a loud bang as he brings Porter down in one sudden jerk. "COME ON!" he yells over the cheering from some of the Knights of Solace who have gathered. "YOU CAN DO BETTER THAN THAT. YOU WANT ME AS YOUR HELPER OR NOT?" There's a look of elation in Sir Bhandn's face now, that grin growing broader as he sets up for round two with his elbow planted and hand raised to go for another bout with the Archlector of Gild.

"Thank you, Legate. I am definitely not up on my arm wrestling skills." Azova admits, flashing a cheerful smile towards Cassandra. "You can make a comeback, Porter! Imagine how many terrible nicknames he'll come up with for you if not!" She's so encouraging, isn't she?

Bree laughs loudly as Bhandn yells at the audience for not cheering enough, but then it dawns on her that /she/ is part of that audience, and she's yelling plenty. "MAYBE IF YOU PUT ON A BETTER SHOW!" she suggests with a call, amusement rich in her tone. "GIVE US A FLOURISH!" But then, more sincerely, because Bhandn's hand begins to push Porter's down, her eyes widen and she calls, "YOU GOT THIS! WRIST CONTROL!" All the yelling! She nods to Azova's calls, too. "SO MANY NICKNAMES!" Poor Kastelon over there just trying to enjoy the show.

A turn of that head, and then the faintest shadow of a smile to Bree with her comment, as if he's still clearly enjoying the matter. And a bob of his head as he's murmuring, "Are there points for style?" It shows how clueless he is.

He's pushing! Then his hand goes *smack* against the table. Porter is at once surprised by the suddenness of it and deeply amused. He laughs and pulls his arm back, shaking it out, making a great show of it. He even goes far as to wince, IN AGONY, over the treatment he just received. "Oh! I don't know, Sir Bhandn might just be too strong for me. I can't afford to have my arm broken!" he insists to the crowd. But there are people (Bree and Azova) shouting about nicknames. He laughs loudly again and plants his elbow down, then he makes a little 'gimme' gesture with his fingers at Bhandn. "Lets go again, I have a reputation to defend now!"

*** Porter has called for an opposing check with Bhandn. ***
Porter checks strength and brawl at easy. Porter is successful.
Bhandn checks strength and brawl at easy. Bhandn is successful.
*** Bhandn is the winner. ***

Cassandra's brown eyes turn back toward the arm-on-arm action. Her hands once more rest on her hips. "If you've trained to keep your grip on your blade, Lady Azova, you're halfway there." Cassandra says it in the mild way that suggests that /of course/ she knows Azova has trained to keep her grip on her blade, and isn't butterfingering daggers around left right and center. She glances over at Kastelon for a moment, and inclines her head to one side in a 'come watch with us' motion. Then her gaze is back on the combatants. "Really, though, every part of the arm and the shoulder -- and back -- is necessary. Not only to win, but to avoid injuring yourself in the winning."

IT's easy enough for Kastelon to lift himself at the gesture, moving at least closer - Resolute staying behind as if he is truly asleep, and just content to rest there without the matter of following his master. "It would be bad in times such as this to hurt oneself for such a thing," the Keaton huntsman says as he joins, and there's the lift of an eyebrow as his single hazel eye turns back to the action.

"YOU GOT--" Bree's shout is cut off, because she hears Porter's hand hit the table (and she sees it too). "WELL DONE SIR BHANDN!" she calls for the winner, lifting one hand in the air to pump her fist for him. "YOU BEAT...." She tries, in that moment, to come up with a clever nickname as Azova threatened, but fails spectacularly. "ARCHWRIST...ARMLECT... PORTER!" He's calling for a second match and she gives him a little encouraging wave.

Azova bursts into laughter. "Armlector Porter." She finds that hilarious for some reason.

Despite himself, Kastelon does smile a little more than 'just a hint' when there's the new nickname, and the hazel eye watches the two men for a few moments in silence.

The second round proves to be a much more grueling affair. There's grunting, there's straining, there's even some back and forth with the arm! First Bhandn takes the lead, then suddenly Porter is pushing back and moving Bhandn's arm over to Porter's side of the table! Bhandn grits his teeth and grips the table even harder this time than the previous round, straining to gain the advantage. Whether the Archlector grows tired and/or Bhandn senses a moment of weakness, who knows? But Porter's arm begins to move the other direction, and Bhandn becomes even more red-faced and groans as he struggles against the other man, slowly but surely bringing the Archlector's arm down to the other side of the table. The cheering tells him when it's done, and an explosive breath comes out of the silver-haired knight, who has to sit back in his chair and pant in exertion for several moments. "I'm going to give you a nickname if you don't win at least once," he manages to say. "Everyone is going to think you drink too much and have a porterbelly, after today." He manages to say 'porterbelly' completely deadpan. Hearing Bree's cheering, he turns his attention over in her direction, and notes Azova and Kastelon present. There's a tired wave given to all three, but Bhandn has words for his Knight Commander. "We'll have to tell the Grandmaster about this when we see him next," Bhandn calls out to Bree. "He'll probably challenge me on the spot!" And probably win, the knight clearly adds under his breath. It doesn't take a lip reader to see that one.

"No, no, no, no!" It's the kind of 'no no no no' that's also filled with hilarious boyish joy as his arm starts going the wrong way again. "NO." BAM. His arm goes back down onto the table. By now Porter is just laughing hysterically, laughter that only intensifies when he hears ARMLECTOR and also PORTERBELLY. Like, he absolutely starts to lose it completely, he has lost control. Both hands are over his face and he's laughing in big deep howls as people cheer. The Armlector has to take in the world's DEEPEST breath and start to fan his face, which has gone totally red in the cheeks. There are *tears* in his eyes. "Okay, okay. ONE more time we'll try for. But then that's it, I need this arm for doing paperwork later. I can't use the other one." And has evidently never heard of just dictating letters apparently!

*** Porter has called for an opposing check with Bhandn. ***
Porter checks strength and brawl at easy. Porter is successful.
Bhandn checks strength and brawl at easy. Bhandn is successful.
*** Bhandn is the winner. ***

Cassandra's expression falls into mute dismay as she watches Porter's progress. When that 'one more time' goes the way it does, Cassandra's hands leave her hips, and her shoulders sag a bit. It's easy to tell, because it makes her armor make a clanking sound. "Arml-- Archlector Porter," she says, catching herself just a /second/ too late, "I'll be around to show you exercises you can do to strengthen your arms, back, and grip while working at your desk." Cassandra says that with the matter-of-fact air of someone who does a lot of these types of exercises while writing letters.

Kastelon is cringing a little bit at the way it's going back and forth. Or perhaps at the discussion of paperwork. Either way, the huntsman does not look like there's anything pleasing in the things that are being discussed as he's just slowly, slowly, ruefully shaking his head as he's continuing to watch with that one eye of his. "Might one inquire as to what is actually at stake in this competition?" Asks he, as he's looking to the others with whom he's seated, though with another cringe when Cassandra mentions things about working at a desk.

Azova cheers for the victor, and makes a laughing comment towards Bree. No doubt something mildly amusing; or at least, something she believes is mildly amusing. "I'm not sure, actually." she notes towards Kastelon. "No doubt it's bragging rights, or something. Maybe some silver. Obviously some new nicknames."

Cassandra's eyes remain on Porter and Bhandn, but she directs her words toward Kastelon. "A most fair question." She says it loud enough that it's meant for the arm-wrestlers to overhear -- and understand the Legate's implication.

"Alright, alright," is all Bhandn has to say to Porter demanding another go, but he's laughing now too. The Archlector's boisterous nature is infectious, and even the old man has caught the bug. "You win this one and I'll give you two weeks of my time, instead of the month I promised if you won the whole thing." He pitches that a bit loudly, so that it might be heard over all the ruckus the watching Knights of Solace are making. So when it is that Bhandn and Porter go at it again, there's a great deal of puffing that comes from Bhandn's lips as he struggles once more to try and thwart the Archlector's attempts to get Bhandn's arm smack on the table. There's no slack on the older man's part; he's taking this seriously the whole time, even if he is trying not to giggle during the third go. Yet like the other attempts, he emerges the victor, and the room positively explodes with cheering from the Silver Order, who swarm in and start patting backs. There might have been bets exchanged back at the House over this, but no one is trading coin just yet. Those that had their money on Porter don't seem to be particularly downtrodden; they still offer praise for their choice of competitor as though he'd emerged the winner. Porter is the recipient of a great deal of shoulder patting and soft cuffs to the arm (nothing hard enough to leave a bruise or discomfort), as well as a few jokes about being renamed to the Armlector of Gild now and forever at the House. There's cheers for the Boat Guy of Solace, who gave it his all.

When Bhandn forces his arm down for the third or fourth?? time this afternoon, Porter only has another peel of laughter for this disastrous result! How will his reputation ever recover? He's ruined! He pulls his hand back from where the other knight has had it pinned and gives it a solid shake out, that arm is going to be *tired*. But it's not as bad as all that, since the people hanging around seem to still be massively entertained by the ordeal. He hauls himself to his feet, rounding the table and hauling Bhandn up out of his seat for A HUG. A big, giant, bear hug that involves back clapping. "You're an excellent arm wrestler, truly the first in your class. I'll have to do a lot of training in order to defeat you in our upcoming rematch!"

When the match comes to an end with Porter getting soundly beaten again and again, Bree leaps from the bench to cheer for both men. "Well wrestled!" she calls to them with a wide grin, clapping at their hugging, and then she turns to murmur something to Azova in return, her own remarks a little less quiet, "You should get in there next."

Kastelon's brow rises again at the suggestions of more such things. "It sounds to me as if perhaps it would be wise to arrange a charity tournament for such things," he says, in his low, serious voice. For once, it's fairly clear that he's -not- making a joke of such things.

When Porter comes around the side of the table to his side, Bhandn looks momentarily wary, perhaps suspecting shenanigans. Then he's hauled out of his chair and caught in that HUG. A moment passes where it seems like he won't return the gesture, and then, almost hesitantly, wraps his arms around the Archlector and starts to increasingly squeeze back. Bhandn can bearhug too, it turns out, and it's almost a competition for who can do it the strongest. No audible words come from the older knight, though his mouth moves, but what's most tellins it this: he's started to cry of all things. He just clings to Porter and speaks softly, all while hugging the man back. Then the moment passes, and what Porter had to say finally processes, which gets the older knight to laughing of all things. "Just get the Grandmaster to train you and you'll be fine," he says audibly.

Cassandra looks content with the outcome of the contest. She never registered who she was rooting for, and seeing both men come together in mutual respect and affection after a hard-fought test of arm-related wills is probably the /real/ result that the Legate desired. "It could be quite the event," she asides to Kastelon. "Just look at how this spar animated the Knights of Solace so. Of course, for what you propose, rules would need to be standardized -- perhaps weight classes, as well, so that some nine-foot-tall Keaton doesn't come in and dominate by reach and gravity alone..."

Whatever it was that Bhandn went ahead and whispered in Porter's ear, the bear hug intensifies. And there's a very clear response to those words, the Archlector is shaking his head and patting him on the back again. Bhandn is now seeking his escape and Porter steps back, giving him some personal space once again. He seems a little emotional too, wiping tears from his eyes. There's a gruff clearing of his throat, apparently not ready to give the crowd this kind of shoe. "No, no. Bree can teach me how to arm wrestle properly! I think she might enjoy the prospect of beating me a few dozen times," he laughs and shakes his head. A little bow is given to the remaining spectators. "I hope no one is planning on carrying us out again."

There's a good amount of laughter from the gathered Knights at Porter's comment about whether or not carrying out will happen. No one really answers the question however, but the gathered Order starts to disperse since the festivities are largely over and the winner was discovered. NOW is when they start exchanging bet money, as they disperse back to their duties, leaving the Training Center a bit less lively than it was moments ago. For himself, Bhandn just returns that hug and then wipes at his own eyes, turning his attention over to where Azova, Bree, and Kastelon still stand, and it's to them that Bhandn heads, but not without calling over his shoulder at the Armlector of Gild: "Learn quickly." It's a slightly threatening way in which Bhandn says it, but he confines himself to just those two words. "One hopes you enjoyed the show," Bhandn goes on to say, now to the three watchers of that arm wrestling competition. "I was not planning on literally being carried here by... well... you know. They took that burden on themselves." Also literally.

Also the departing knights snag that table and chairs. Now you know who brought them in in the first place.

"I certainly did," Bree beams at Bhandn as he joins them by the sidelines, her head bobbing up and down, but then she's looking to Porter, specifically to his arm, and she asks, "You okay? Need me to lift things for you for a few days?" She moves to the railing that separates the fighting pit from the benches and makes a motion for him to come over so she can feel him up. His arm, at least. "I think you might even be able to beat the Grandmaster, Sir Bhandn. That was impressive."

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