Pasquale takes a place up in the booth designed for the host to sit in and watches the spectators and hopeful competitors find their places. "Welcome to the first event in this three part early year tournament." He personally speaks fairly softly but a blonde man nearby quickly echoes his words with far more volume. "This first event will be a test of your cavalry skills. There is a prize of 50,000 for the victor today with a prize of 250,000 for the winner of the tournament as a whole. Lances will be supplied and if you need the loan of a horse" he gestures to a woman in Malespero livery holding a pair of bay horses. "Then you have it."

I'm sure all of you are familiar with the joust but just in case anyone is not, the game will go like this: The goal is to gallop past each other whilst striking the shield of your opponent with a lance. There will be one point for scoring a touch, two points for breaking the lance, three points for shattering the lance and five points for unhorsing your opponent. There will be as many rounds as I feel like." He is quiet for a moment and then says "If you hit your opponent anywhere except their shield, you will be penalised. If you hit a horse, you will be jeered at AND disqualified.

Now that everything that needs to be said has been: Competitors please ride parade. The people want to know who you are."

Gaspard rides out atop a simply massive warhorse, named Jotun. In his diamondplate cavalery horsemen armor, he strikes an intimidating presence to be sure. Azure, gold-rimmed eyes flick about, one hand upon a lance, the other upon his shield, with additional straps for his forearm. He appears utterly at ease within the saddle.

Martinique is riding a very hyper appaloosa horse that she struggles to contain but she's here. She has a lance. She got it somewhere. And she found a shield, also somewhere. She is, as it happens, officially a knight so she should be in at least some of these competitions though her readiness may be in question. But still she is here, she has her armor on, and she is ready.

Seated in one of the high booths is Countess Ember Redreef. Dressed in her usual shadowmeld armor and cloak, but mercifully sparing the world her grotesque, face-covering helm, she watches with keen interest. She doesn't look like she's having any fun. Then again, this is Ember. She never looks like she's having any fun. Even when she's having fun! Which she never does.

The old man is in process of getting situated upon a horse that looks as if it should have a cart behind it. Not a warhorse, more of one that is meant to have a team to help pull a siege weapon into place and then allowed to go sit out the rest of the battle while dreaming of some apple tree to rest under in a field that is very, very far away from whatever this is. Zakhar leans forwards with a soft nod to horse, and what might be words of encouragement while he's handed a joust. A look over to Martinique with nod as he is then squinting to stare down Gaspard before slipping the leathered scarf around his face.

Zakhar has left the General Seating.

Zakhar has joined the Field.

Gaspard has joined the Field.

Martinique has joined the Field.

Nimue is not a knight, but she /is/ a bonafide, card-carrying Horse Girl. Her steed of choice is an onyx stallion with a flowing mane, circling the grounds along with the other competitors while the Voice herself waves with one hand and gently strokes her mount with the other. Her shield bears Redreef heraldry, and her lance and armor are colored appropriately.

Nimue has joined the Field.

In the general seating, Patrizio Pravus smiles as he's watching those who are daring this art upon the frozen field, the dip of his head respectfully to those who are about to showcase their skill in the list. One with keen eyes, though, might notice how a flask makes an appearance from beneath his cloak for him to steal a nip from it, as if to fortify himself against the cold.

Zakhar mutters, "Okay horse ... ... ... simple you ... ... me and I ... turn your ... into a rug along ... your ... ... ..."

Snow falls from the sky throughout the city, fluttering down and covering all below. This included Denica, who arrives in a thick winter's coat, that is dusted with white. It matches the pale of her skin and her expression is marred by shades of angst. Denica is slipping in, setting her pace across grounds like someone trying to get lost in the crowd. Clutching a worn sketchbook to her chest, she moves with ease in boots and leggings, hair hidden under a wide-floppy hat. If not for the vibrant jewel tones, she might blend, but the tones stand out on a winter's day. Not stopping to mingle, she is finding a good vantage point, climbing upwards to the highest available seating. House staff disperse to allow her some privacy, but are never far off. Catching sight of someone familiar, she shifts her gaze and divers her way towards Ember. Denica sits quietly down next to the Redreef Countess, still obscured by her floppy hat.

Lady Tesha Telmar didn't come out in public alot the last few months, but if there was a Joust, she was going to attend! The one-eyed woman is bundled in crimson leather to fight off the cold and crimson silk underneath. She gives a look over the attendees and there is a smile when she sees that Gaspard is riding Jotun out onto the field. She gives a round of applause for that and then moves to take up a seat. Cale sits at her feet and watches the goings on curiously, but makes no moves to go near the horses or others.

Tesha has left the Quiet Booth.

Tesha has joined the General Seating.

Easily lost in the steady flow of foot traffic into the popular event Bonnie has gone in search of something to fend off the chill to take with her when she eventually goes to find a seat.

There is applause coming from Ann when Gaspard comes out. She has a proud smile on her face from where she sits in the general seats. She also takes in for anyone one familiar to her and Zakhar gets applauded to. This should be an interesting event. Smiling at Petra who sits next to her.

Denica has joined the High Booth.

Cillian watches as they come out onto the field and was about to start clapping his gloved hands together when he leans over to poke Ann and say something to her. He is a bit wide eyes to see Zakhar out there and cheers the man on!

Up in the judges stands Pasquale spends a moment speaking with his blonde companion before announcing in the same echoed fashion. "Thank you for those introductions. Our first round will see Zakhar go up against Lord Gaspard Blackram whilst Dame Martinique faces off against Lady Nimue Redreef."

Caspian has joined the Judges Booth.

Caspian has left the Judges Booth.

A murmur of excitement goes through the crowd as a duelist from the Champions Guild enters the Tournament Grounds.

Caspian has joined the General Seating.

Martinique checks dexterity and ride at normal. Martinique is successful.

Nimue checks dexterity and ride at normal. Nimue is successful.

Petra was also applauding Gaspard, and when his match with Zakhar is announced she leans toward Ann to say something privately.

Zakhar checks dexterity and ride at normal. Zakhar is successful.

Gaspard checks dexterity and ride at normal. Gaspard is successful.

Martinique checks dexterity and medium wpn at normal. Martinique is successful.

Zakhar checks strength and huge wpn at normal. Zakhar is successful.

Ann leans in to hear what Petra says to her and there's a brief smile before she responds back.

Zakhar checks strength and huge wpn at hard. Botch! Zakhar fails completely.

Nimue checks strength and medium wpn at hard. Nimue is successful.

Ember applauds both Martinique and Nimue. She applauds them both perfectly evenly, because it would be in poor taste to show a favorite between two representatives of her House. Though at least Redreef is guaranteed to advance!

Gaspard checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Gaspard fails.

Martinique checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Martinique is successful.

"You're putting me up against Nimue in the first round? Come on!" Martinique complains. She's not mad at Nimue mind; she just knows her chances. Somehow still she braces herself and manages her horse enough to bring her lance to bear. Her opponent is one she fears; Nimue is the prime hosebreaker of Redreef, but she cannot flail before an opponent, even one she cares for.

Zakhar checks dexterity and archery at hard. Zakhar is successful.

Building momentum with Jotun, Gaspard urges the warhorse forward, building and building momentum on his path towards Zakhar on the other side of the jousting set up. At breakneck speed, Gaspard makes contact but it's a glancing blow, bouncing right off as he rides past.

Briar, a quiet young woman, 6 Setarcan Royal Shields arrive, following Sebastian.

Zakhar finally has a hold upon the lance and while the horse appears to be in agreement with whatever he spoke to it, his own ability to hold onto the lance is a completely different story. As he clicks at the horse and they set off charging towards that Oathland fellow the lance finds itself slipping within Zakhar's grip only to drag along beam as the lance itself scrapes and burns as the horse tries its very best to run harder in its line of target eventually causing the lance to shatter and the old man drops the heavy weapon just as he streams past his intended target. Holding shield up to protect himself without any weapon there's a shattering moment in the old man's mind where a flower teacup finds itself sailing through the air to shatter against edge of Gaspard's leg.

Before the grill goes down, Nimue flashes Dame Martinique her very best and brightest smile. She doesn't complain, for all that she'd rather not risk ending her fellow Housemember's day /this/ early; nor does she jab at the other woman, for all that their relationship has more than enough room for such friendly taunts. It's just the smile, then the ringing music of metal clapping into place against metal as Nimue's horse bursts into a gallop, rounding the field for enough momentum to in turn /explode/ into a thundering chorus of hoof beats bearing down on the knight. Her lance remains braced and ready until the final moment and then some, still clutched beneath her arm for dear life even as most of it shatters into countless splinters-- and she herself is struck in turn, rocking her precariously in the saddle for a beat before she manages to steady herself.

Ember again applauds Martinique and Nimue both; neither one more than the other. After all, it's not whether you win or lose, it's how you play the game! And if anyone truly believes that Ember believes that, well, she's got a bridge in Eurus to sell you.

"After those passes." Pasquale announces from the box. "we see Lord Gaspard with 1 point with both Martinique and Nimue scoring 3. Zakhar" his head turns towards the old mercenary "takes a 1 point penalty for his stunt." Looking back to the crowds in general he announces. "The second round will see Lady Nimue Redreef cross lances with Zakhar whilst Dame Martinique will cross lances with Lord Gaspard. Please take your starting places and wait for the flag."

Patrizio can be seen in the stands, murmuring something to those closest to him, a gentle gesture to his sextet of soldiers before he's rising from his place, cloak gathered about himself as he's descending from the seating.

Patrizio has left the General Seating.

Patrizio has joined the Quiet Booth.

Gaspard checks dexterity and ride at normal. Gaspard marginally fails.

Nimue checks dexterity and ride at normal. Nimue is successful.

Martinique checks dexterity and ride at normal. Martinique is successful.

It's cold. Even with the heavily furred cloak Sebastian's wearing, the Pravosi is presently regretting his life choices, and yet he's on a mission. One that's carrying him, with barely a glance towards the field -- up towards the stands. His gaze sweeps the crowd, and he finds a familiar outline, angling towards Patrizio, catching the man on the move and angling to meet him. The artist merely stoops for a second. "I come bearing gifts," he murmurs, pressing a hand down onto his cousin's shoulder, with a twist of lips. Surely no gift from a member of House Pravus has ever come without a string attached? And then he drops heavily into a seat.

Sebastian has joined the Quiet Booth.

Big blue eyes seen as Ann watches Gaspard and Zakar and was that a tea cup flying through the air. She can be heard telling Cillian and Petra, "Spirts! What in the hell?" Whoops. Language got the best of Ann.

Tesha apparently zoned out for a moment and missed what was going on, but the rattling helps to bring her back to things!

Patrizio can be seen to laugh at the gesture, but as he's settling in as well, his voice is clearly lowered, and he's briefly shaking his head as if there's some amusement, though his other hand rises to clasp Sebastian on the shoulder in a brotherly manner.

Martinique looks over Gaspard respectfully. She inspects him in fact. Looks him up and down. She doesn

Zakhar checks stamina and ride at normal. Zakhar fails.

Gaspard checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Gaspard marginally fails.

Nimue checks strength and medium wpn at easy. Nimue is successful.

Zakhar checks strength and medium wpn at hard. Zakhar fails.

Cillian chuckles as the tea cup went flying and shakes his head his eyes watch as the two go back and forth a low whistle when he looks to Ann and grins.

Martinique checks dexterity and medium wpn at normal. Martinique fails.

Sebastian really doesn't much bother to hide the lean as he passes Patrizio a flask, glancing over the stands and the field with the jousters for a moment, but there's something sober and serious in his expression as he confers with his cousin.

A velvet glove protects fingers from the broken piece of charcoal that Denica finds in her coat pocket. It connects uncommitted with the blank page. Looking from below the brim of her floppy hat, she glances at Ember from time-to-time. Occasionally, there's a conversational word or two exchanged, until she returns to her quiet observations of the joust or the crowd of spectators.

Bonnie has left the the Beverage Tent.

Bonnie has joined the General Seating.

Caspian gives a cheer at the second pass by the jousters "Well Struck! well ridden!" he looks to the others and smiles, "its really not easy to do!"

Martinique looks over Gaspard respectfully. She inspects him in fact. Looks him up and down. She doesn't have a lot of spare lances but she readies the lance she does have and moves to ride, while marshaling her overactive horse to contain himself for a moment or two while she makes to charge. She does not make a clean hit, however, and her lance scratches against the shield of her opponent. She scowls at it, and at her horse, who is for the record a real asshole in general, but she'll wheel around nonetheless and lean her head briefly against Nimue's shoulder even if they're to be opponents again.

Bonnie settles into the general setting, both hands cupped around drink. She watches with a wide gaze "That looks insane. I'd expect jousters to be walking around toothless from being rattled so hard and so often."

Gaspard returns a respectful nod from afar before gallping Jotun to meet Martinique head on, in which he ruthlessly thrusts his lance forth, breaking off the tip of it. His riding was a little awkward, almost de-seating him before recovering to match Martinique lance for lance

Zakhar has taken up a smaller lance this time, cause that's the obvious reason there were problems last round. No pep talk for the horse which might have been a larger issue here. As Zakhar gives a wave to Nimue before wrapping his face with the leather scarf there's a stare at the horse as the animal starts off before he's even holding onto the lance. The poor assistant left at a run to keep up and toss the lance up to Zakhar knocks him sideways in the head where he just ducks into hiding behind his shield again while barreling down the run where barely able to get a good grip upon the weapon as he's hit by Nimue.

As soon as she's reloaded and cantered into position, Nimue once more bursts into violent motion, this time bearing down on Zakhar until another lance shatters. This time, she takes a moment to release the reins and duck and cover protectively, ready for any incoming cups and/or saucers; when none arrive, she tentatively uncoils and offers Zakhar a quick bow while receiving Martinique's companionable gesture with a brief headpat.

"Not bad." Pasquale's loud friend announces from the box after a few words from the much quieter Lord. "That round sees Lady Nimue score 3 points, Lord Gaspard 2 and Zakhar and Dame Martinique come out with one. This puts Lady Nimue at six points so far, Dame Martinique at 4, Lord Gaspard at 3 and Zakhar at a solid zero. This next round will see Dame Martinique cross lances with Zakhar whilst Lady Nimue Redreef jousts against Lord Gaspard. Can Lord Gaspard knock Lady Nimue off her horse and claim a place in the final round or will the Dame and Lady of Redreef carry the day? Let us watch and see!"

Martinique checks dexterity and ride at normal. Martinique is successful.

Gaspard checks dexterity and ride at normal. Gaspard is successful.

Gaspard checks dexterity and medium wpn at normal. Critical Success! Gaspard is spectacularly successful.

Caspian cheers out from the stands, "Do it for Waddles Zahkar!! For Captain Waddles!"

Zakhar checks stamina and ride at normal. Zakhar is marginally successful.

Ember looks as stern and severe as ever. Is she enjoying the success of her House's representatives? Probably. On some level. But she would die before ever showing it, outside of the occasional sound of shadowmeld-gloved applause. She glances at Denica's sketchpad now and then, murmuring quiet conversation with the Princess.

Nimue checks dexterity and ride at normal. Nimue is successful.

Nimue checks strength and medium wpn at hard. Nimue marginally fails.

Martinique checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Martinique is successful.

Zakhar checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Zakhar fails.

Once more Martinique wheels around and makes herself ready. "Zakhar, if you throw any teacups at me I will /tell Zoya/ and then we'll see what hall can be unleased!" She readies her lance, dented as it may be. Her horse, as noted, is a jerk, but he'll charge pretty readily at anything so he's good for that much at least. She has her lance and shield and that's as much as she'll get today.

A smile as Patrizio's handing back the flask to Sebastian, and his hands wave gently, faintly more animated about whatever it is they're discussing while they're watching the passes upon horseback. Though whatever it is, it seems the prince is in good spirits.

Gaspard checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Gaspard is successful.

Tesha has left the General Seating.

Tesha accepts a missive that comes her way and then makes quiet comments of departure before she finds her way out of the seating and heads for the exit.

Bonnie has left the General Seating.

2 Telmarine Guards, Cale, the Highhill War Hound pup leave, following Tesha.

Zakhar grins a solid smirk back to Martinique yelling back, "She'll just wish for new needles! And anything she might unleash is nothing compared to the fate this blasted creature has in store for it." To this the horse shows that it has enough and stands in one spot when they should be charging down the run. Zakhar nudges at the horse and then is left to drop the lance to lean over and try a new talk with the horse as he's hit by Martinique.

Zakhar mutters, "this ... the time in which you, the walking run and ... set of jewelry ... to find ... going that ... Zoya needs ... needles and we ... ... of ... bones they come from."

"Marti, /no/!" Nimue blurts even as she wheels towards Gaspard, unable to contain the fear that naturally follows in Zoya's wake. By the time she snaps back to attention and sets her eyes forward, she's mostly just lucky to have not been /forced/ to focus on Gaspard by the shattering lance against her shield; as it is, the blow rocks her back in her saddle and throws her return strike off, leaving her with a tipless but otherwise intact lance.

Ember can't hide a scowl when /Lady/ Nimue refers to /Dame/ Martinique so informally -- in front of a /crowd/.

Gaspard remains somber and focused, riding in on Nimue after greeting her with a respectful nod. He lands dead on, shattering his lance with a grunt, riding on past.

The sound of shattering lances pulls Sebastian's gaze back towards the grounds. He looks to be sharing the flask with Patrizio, otherwise keeping huddled beneath his cloak, though the barked laugh he gives suggests the topic of conversation is light-hearted in nature.

Splinter, the golden-eyed osprey arrives, following Desma.

Ilira arrives in red. A long black velvet duster, flecked white both by the snow and the pearls scattered across it, is left unbuttoned to reveal the swirl and flow of her lush crimson skirts as she walks. Emerging around a knot of spectators on the outskirts of the field, she lingers for a moment, bejeweled hands serenely clasped and eyes on the joust in progress. A faint smile flickers across her lips like a flame for the violence. Then, turning to assess the available seating, she considers the general benches briefly before lifting her attention higher and heading for a more secluded booth.

Ilira has joined the High Booth.

At the booth where he and Sebastian are seated, there's a clear laugh from Patrizio as well. And the clasp once more of his palm on his cousin's shoulder, while the prince with the famous hair is laughing warmly, only slightly flinching at the sound of the shattering lances, as if such a thing's quite familiar a sound to him.

Up in his box Pasquale leans forward to watch the events on the field with interest. A few soft words are spoken to his companion and the loud blonde man once again starts doing his announcer thing. "Lord Gaspard Blackram pulls a fine blow out of the field but it is not quite enough to swing the day thanks to Lady Nimue's return strike breaking hers just enough to earn two points. With Zakhar earning one point this round, Lady Nimue Redreef 2 and Lord Gaspard and Dame Martinique getting three points the final scores are as follows:
Lady Nimue Redreef wins the day with 8 points. Dame Martinique comes second with 7. Lord Gaspard Blackram gets a very respectable 6 and Zakhar finishes with one. Congratulations to Lady Redreef on her win!" Shortly after the announcement a woman in Malespero livery hands Nimue a pouch.}n

Ember applauds, long and loud. She doesn't hoot or whistle or anything. That would be beneath her -- and terribly clash with her image.

Gaspard grits his teeth underneath his helm, muttering something as a small sigh escapes him. A shake of his head is seen, those that know him can tell by body posture he's not pleased, but he says nothing off it. Working his helm off, he wears a forced smile, congrajulating Nimue and Martinique on a job well done. For Zakhar, he gets a small grin, "Better luck next time eh?"

"How the hell did I come in second?" Martinique asks as she passes her shattered lance to her green-eyed attendant. "Lady Nimue can tell you I'm a terrible rider." But she isn't complaining. She's just getting off her horse and looking for a drink. And also moving up to give a bow to Pasquale. "Thank you for the tournament my lord. And greetings your grace." to Sebastian.

Zakhar stares at Pasquale with a shrug as he looks back to one of the assistants and mutters about having tea. Only to look back to Gaspard, "Luck? don't need it. Will have three rugs and new jewelry soon."

Caspian jumps up in the stands, applauding loudly and cheering "Well rode! well done! Congratulations to all!" he laughs, clapping still and nodding in agreement with something cillian said

"Wait, new jewelry?" Martinique whips her head around. "Can you make a ring for my lady?"

Ilira turns from introductions at the high booth to beam and clap spiritedly at Pasquale's announcement, her eyes briefly lingering on a figure in the field.

Desma arrives at the tournament grounds in quick run/jog, looking rather annoyed at herself at missing the joust. She cranes her neck, looking to see if she can spot anyone she knows.

As soon as the pouch is received, Nimue and her steed wheel towards Gaspard so she can give him a respectful bow and a low, "Excellent job!" in passing. Once that's done, she twists to give Pasquale a broad wave while shouting, "And thank you, Lord Pasquale! I am grateful to have had a chance to compete, today."

Shortly afterwards, she dismounts and heads after Martinique in search of a drink, her armor still more or less as pristine as it was when the joust began.

Pasquale tells Martinique "And yet you rode beautifully. You all scored very closely." His eyes go to the horse that Zakhar is threatening with life as a rug as he makes his way down from the box. "The poor beast doesn't deserve such a fate Zakhar. It showed heart. You both did."

Sebastian actually parts the warm folds of his cloak to bring his hands out to clap as the winners are announced. "Well done to all. So glad I came out on this very cold, very snowy day to witness such prowess," the Pravosi states with seeming sincerity, though there's a faint twitch of lips. He gives a nod for Nimue, and an effortless smile for Martinique. "Dame Martinique. Well done."

Cillian stands up clapping his gloved hands together! "Well done!" he calls out those on the field.

Zakhar nods to Martinique as he watches the horse be led off and looks as if the tea is taking far too long only to spin back to Pasquale "Where do you think your prized puzzles come from?" A raise of his eyebrow as he looks over to Martinique, "Depends upon what you seek it to be made of."

"Your highness." Martinique bows. "My lord. I am almost certain you have liquor somewhere in that high booth." This is to Pasquale. "Or if not you know where it is stored nearby but that is all the reward I would ask of you." And then back to Zakhar. "The most expensive material you can get. I'll have Zoya haggle for it but I can afford it."

"Huzzah!" Patrizio shouts out when he's rising to his feet, cheering those who've shown their skill on the frozen field, though there's something of a glance to see the state of those who were engaged in the daring do and their steeds. His cloak, however, comes closed more quickly, as if there's a limit to how much of the winter he's really wanting to endure in the open.

"Alas." Pasquale tells Martinique. "You will have to win tomorrow if you want me to buy your drinks." He too pulls his cloak about his shoulders. "Thank you all for participating. It brightened up this most awful of winters."