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

It was touch and go with the weather being the way it has been these last few days if the mudpit party would still be happening or not. But Princess Ann Redrain was determined to see this event through. Running around the arena to make sure everything was in place. All smiles for those that come in from the weather. There is a roof so the pit should not be a swimming pool but just pure mud for the fighters that participate. Once everyone is settled she clears her throat. She knows how to get loud and she projects her voice, "Welcome all! I am delighted you have come out tonight. If you want to wrestle please sign up and we will get squared away. Otherwise, please enjoy this event! We will get started shortly!" Moving back to where there has been space made where she can play Master of Ceremonies as she doesn't look to be one of the ones getting into the pit. "Just a reminder fighters no armor or weapons in the pit. Thank you!"

Mar, the Magpie arrives, delivering a message to Ann before departing.

Cut in basic black cloth over his massive frame, Gaspard strikes an imposing figure among the applicants, waiting in line to sign up for the venture. He eyes and sizes up others, lips pursed, looking focused.

There's a terrible storm outside the arena. It's impossible arrive anywhere without being a bit waterlogged, but Cassiopeia seems to embrace it and wears water colours. Arriving arm-in-arm with Nazmir, the southern Marquessa looks a little chilled, seeming to have been ready to embrace the sunshine this time of year. Still, she is in her natural state, a warm smile on her face and a curious sparkle in her eyes. "Is mud fighting something you a lot of?," she asks her Northern expert. "Is there a catch? Like poisonous mud snakes that will bite people's feet or maybe people will sink into the mud and have to swim out?," she asks curiously, because clearly everything needs more danger added to it. As she chats, she looks around with bright eyes and then back at the man. "Where shall we sit?," she wonders of him not at all guessing he might actually ENTER the brawl and then again, "I am quite curious to see more of these northern traditions," she adds ever cheerful and energetic letting her gaze sweep around and take in the sight and wiggle her fingers at some familiar faces.

Jingling bells when following along to the person wearing them looks like a drowned rat is something amusing as each step is followed with the loud 'schluck' to only be replaced with a wet and messy squish as Mattheu's feet find the mud. There's already a great deal of mud climbing up his boots from the trudge through the rains to get here and that last step into the mud is just enough for this drowned rat to stop in his tracks and pull the boots off, as well as his tunic to toss them both towards the stands. Pushing the wet hair back with a soft jingle from bells tied within the dark brown locks, as more rain drips off of him. Mattheu laughs to something his assistants say to him as they pat him on the back and head towards the benches. While Tregva and Violeta take to sitting down on behind Ann and pulling out a bottle of a ginger smelling liquour, Mattheu shakes his head and gives a small wave to Ann. Then turns to stare at Gaspard with a small nod of his head as his smile slips to away. "Lord Gaspard."

By the time that Nazmir makes it into the Mudpits, alongside of Cassiopeia, he's gotten more then his fair share of water and his free hand is in the process of sweeping hair back up and out of his face, smoothing it back into place before falling back to his side, "Well, there used to be fairly regular matches back in the day. By which I mean once or twice a year." A hint of chuckle is given, only for it to break into a laugh, "No, no. No snakes or any such creatures to worry about. Straight wrestling is all there is." Catching sight of a servant, there's a request given for drinks and then an inquiry to the fighters registered. A brow furrows and he's murmuring back something before dispatching the servant on their way, only to then look back to Cassiopeia, "Well, over by the pits on the benches. There is a risk of getting splattered with mud, though. And it seems as if there were an odd number of fighters, which I just can't stand. So, I tossed my name into the hat. Be awhile since I face planted in the mud." Now, his gaze darts about and when he catches sight of Ann, there's a lift of a hand so that he can give a wave, only for him to then do the same in the direction of Mattheu.

Caspian comes in, carrying a large pack that looks mostly empty. A bright smile and some bows great everyone as he moves to the side to make way for the actually important people. What he DOES start doing is peeling off his armor and gear and shoving it into the bag while whistling softly. "Supposedly, mud baths are quite good for you and.." he blinks as Cassi brings up poisonous snakes and he looks to Ann and mattheu with some concern before Nazmir assuages it. "Prince nazmir you added yourself to the running?! that hardly seems fair to the rest of us. I recall you being an acclaimed bear wrestler.. mudpits must be nothing to you!" he beamed at the man and continued to pull his armor off.

Dacian peels of the wet layers once he's underneath the tent and hands it off to someone who looks like they would know where to hang wet outer garments. He politely ensures this with a few bits of silver as he shakes out his hair and exhales a breath, perhaps annoyed with how wet it's been lately. He's wearing a long draped half tunic half robe like fashion that's synched at the waist with a couple flat but thick belts, the hem of which is at the knees, with a pair of knee high boots keep his feet relatively dry. There is brief curiosity toward the lists, toward an imposing figure, but he's making his way toward the viewing seats, clearly not one of the stronger types here, lean compared to how many robust wrestlers there are.

Dacian has joined the middle row bench.

Petra steps out of the rain and under the cover erected to protect the mud pit from turning into a dirty pond, and wrings out the hem of her waterlogged skirt. Of course she also jingles as she moves. She gives Ann a wave before taking a seat with Tregva and Violeta.


The weather also had Filshiar second-guessing whether he would be able to attend today's event or not. Extra shifts going around and all that near the palace. Luckily, he was still able to get away. Showing up out of his armor, he wonders if anyone will actually notice him today as he stands in line to sign up for the fight. He bows to Ann as he nears her, "Good to see you again, your grace." Then, he's off to the pit, tugging off his soggy boots, gear, and tunic. "Good to see you all today," he says, tying back his hair for the event as he nears Mattheu, Caspian, and the others he has yet to meet.

Finishing his sign up, Gaspard steps away, looking out over the small crowd forming. Finding Mattheu, he dips an easy nod, calmly saying, "Lord Mattheu." In a gravelly baritone, grinning faintly as he spies others entering the fray. He lifts a ham-sized hand, waving Anns way, waiting patiently for the madness to begin.

Cillian comes into the pits at a quick walk, there is a chuckle as he speaks softly to someone he is walking with on his arm. "Not to bad just a little wet again. I am going to be far worse here in a short time." he smiles shaking his head a bit as the water beads and runs down his face. The bells in his hair giving off a soft song, "Lets get you a seat, my guards and company with join you." he looks to see who is down in the pits, a wide grin coming to his lips as he leans in, "This is going to be fun." he walks the hooded figure over to the benches. He moves to place his weapons down and slips his leather chest and shirt off, placing them down with his guards. He turns to look, "Oh this is going to be fun." he says a bit louder as he makes his way down to the mud pit, his boots are removed. "Mud does oddly feel nice between your toes."

Cassiopeia continues to saunter towards the benches, lengths of aquamarine silk fluttering behind her and she doesn't quite register what Nazmir says. Rather, she's too distracted greeting people as she arrives. "Oh hello again," she says to Mattheu and Cillian with a cheerful tone. "Well, I am not sure I want to be mud splattered. Beyond what I already am, we can sit in the...," then the young woman pauses. Both blonde eyebrows lift upwards and she looks rather surprised at Nazmir and blinks a few times. Her head tilts, she stares for a long moment and isn't quite sure what to say. "Oh," she finally manages and then she smiles very encouragingly at the prince. "I am sure you will do wonderfully," she isn't quite sure, but she is very nice about it and very supportive. Cassiopeia considers this and then looks down at her outfit and she is unties a ribbon from within her hair and she hands it to him for good luck. "I will be somewhere safe and warm with a nice drink cheering for you-- very loudly," she says with certainty, eyeing up a good vantage point.

Cassiopeia always waves very noticeably at Caspian who she certainly saw all this time.

Ann is looking over the lists as people start to sign up. She was Duchess once this should be easy peasy and she's seen many wrestling matches in her time but still she bites her lower lip as she goes over the names. There are waves, nods, and smiles for all whether they are taking a seat or lining up to get into the pit. Tregva, Violeta and Petra all get brighter smiles from the Northern Princess. Surprise is seen when Ann hears and then sees Nazmir's name on the list. Her grin remains and she can be heard chuckling for any that are near her to hear. A glance given to Mattheu and Gaspard when they greet each other. It's a quick study before her eyes fall on the list once again. She grins when Caspian comes over and stuffs the things he won't need in his pack. A nod for Filshiar when he lines up. Finally, when it seems that everyone that has signed up has done so Ann steps forward to make her announcement to start this mud wrestling. "The first two competing tonight will be Lord Mattheu and Sir Filshiar! Gentlemen, in the pit you go!"

"Well, I couldn't leave things with an odd number, Caspian." That's offered with a chuckle, only for Nazmir to flash a grin, "Hey, fighting bears is /FAR/ different then fighting in the mud. Just you watch and see." He's then looking back over towards Cassiopeia, flashing a smile in the process, "Oh, no. You need to sit nice and close, Cassi. Gotta have a good view of everything, after all." A bob of his head as if that will simply cement that particular statement and when the first pairing gets announced, he's turning his attention in the direction of Mattheu and Filshiar, "Good luck, you two! Do try and splatter everyone with mud, including my cousin!"

Caspian gives out a cheer, "Lord Mattheu! Sir Filshiar! make it messy! make it good!" he laughed merrily and clapped, looking over to Nazmir with a broad grin. "maybe we could pull a chair right up to the pit for the Marquessa?"

Mattheu takes in a deep breath as he looks up, up to Gaspard. "Should be fun." He then turns to Cassiopeia with a wide warm smile and jingling bow. "And you Marquessa Cassiopeia." Holding the grin as he listens to Nazmir and Cassiopeia speak of snakes in the mud, looking to Caspian with a shake of his head. "No snakes here." Then a tilt of his head, "yet."

Chatting quietly with Cillian, said hooded figure moves along at his side, arm tucked through his as they meander along. One corner of her wrap is lifted up to briefly brush across his face, helping wipe away some of the water. "I do hope you warned the servants to have a bath ready for you after... wet mud can feel cooling and relaxing, but dried mud is itchy and irritating." Nodding to his suggestion, she follows his lead and takes a seat, looking over towards the other competitors before glancing back to Cillian, eyes crinkling up slightly in the suggestion of a smile, though her face is covered to the point that only her eyes are visible between hood and covering. "Do tell Caspian I said hello. Then make sure to rub some mud in his hair." Chuckling softly, she takes a seat and glances around herself before looking back to the pit. Unlike her companion, she seems to be relatively dry, and her clothing even steams briefly when they came out from the rain. Settling in, she gives a nod towards Dacian, then offering a small seated bow towards Cassiopeia.


At Anne's announcement, Filshiar raises an arm toward the crowd and makes for the mud pit. He has a wide, boyish grin on his face as he trudges through it and kicks a bit of the mud playfully in Mattheu's direction. As he gets in position, he leans over to scoop some more up and spread it over his arms and chest. "When you are ready, my lord."

Cillian turns looking back at the stands, he spots Dacian a smirk comes to his lips. He gives the Merchant a silly grin, he moves to walk over to him as Mattheu and Filshiar are called into the pit. He leans into Dacian to speak to him in a soft tone for a moment a hand resting on the mans shoulder as he does. He smiles and stands back, "Have fun and enjoy hmm." he winks to the man and turns to move for Caspian, "Wilds." he calls to him moving to clasp his hand on the mans shoulder. "It is good to see you my friend and I been told to tell you hello by a mutual friend." he looks over at Lore then to Cassiopeia smiling, "Always good to see you." he grins looking out at the pit. "Well then." he rolls his shoulders.

Petra has joined the front row bench.


*** Filshiar has called for an opposing check with Mattheu. ***
Filshiar checks dexterity and brawl at normal. Filshiar is marginally successful.
Mattheu checks dexterity and brawl at normal. Mattheu marginally fails.
*** Filshiar is the winner. ***

Cassiopeia has joined the middle row bench.

Dacian has been observant. He makes a polite nod of his head when Lore becomes aware of his presence, folding his hands a little as he considers the mud pit. Then Cillian has come over to say hello and his smile is poised as polite as the one that he gave Lore, "M'lord," he greets then looks toward the pits then back, "I came to take in the Redrain culture. Good luck with the event."

Departing Nazmir to his fate, Cassiopeia turns and heads to the benches. She catches sight of Lore and flashes the other woman a friendly smile, "Miss Lore, it is had been some time. Welcome back to the city, lovely to see you again," she says and then she looks at Dacian. "Might I join you? I want to have a good view, without being dragged into the fight by mistake," or jumping in, who knows. Cassiopeia looks excited to see what happens, but she declines the chair next to the mud pit, too many temptations no doubt.

Caspian looks to Cillian and beams, moving to embrace the man in a tight hug, "it is good to see you! always good!" he steps back and cocks his head slightly, looking around and then back to Cill, "oh? hmm.. well whoever this mutual friend is.. Say hello right back!"

Mattheu nods in a quiet conversation with Ann as he slips and slides across the mud to be closer to Filshiar. As the mud is kicked in his direction he shares a mischievous grin and crouches down a little to run his hands through the mud then standing up with a small hunch and plays with the mud in his fingers. "I see we have the same idea." Letting out a laugh he nods to him, "Let's put on a good show for those watching." He reaches out to offer a muddy warriors arm grasp, within the first moment Mattheu then pulls at Filshair's arm to swing him through the muds and take them both on a spin through slipping upon the muds. Both landing upon the ground with a SPLASH of mud, Mattheu's bells sing out in each roll and grapple only to find himself outmatched while they tumble and roll. Mud is in his hair and covering his body as they roll, ending with Mattheu on his stomach pinned to the muds.

Dacian gestures toward the open seats in the row of seating he's in, once Cassiopeia asks, "There is considerable room and... I am hoping I sat back well enough away that I don't get splashed."

As Cassiopeia takes her moment to escape to something other then the front row, Nazmir casts a look over in the direction of Caspian, "Too late. She ran away. We should have had the house guards surround her, first." There's a little grin that dances into place before he's moving down to settle near the pits, so that he can take in the first showing. When Mattheu makes the first move, without much success, there's a wrinkle of the Prince's nose, even as a smile takes hold, "Good showing! Good showing! More mud, though!"

"The risk of getting splashed is part of the fun!" Petra looks over her shoulder at the row behind her and flashes Dacian a grin.


Filshiar crouches and locks arms with Mattheu. "Let's," he agrees, grinning over to the other man before finding himself swung through the mud. He slides and slips, losing his balance at one point and shifting to drag Mattheu along with him. It's not long before he's covered in mud, and so much for tying his hair back. Quickly, though, it's over, and he leans in close to Mattheu once the lord is pinned. "Good show," he says, with a quick laugh, before releqasing him and rising to make room for the next match.

"There's only one way to enjoy getting properly dirty," Dacian says with a punctual pause, "And this is not it. Regretfully." He smirks and waves down someone to get him a flagon of something to drink.

Cillian returns the the embrace with the same affection, "Yes!" he laughs and leans in to whisper something to him as he eyes Lore then his eyes go to the pit watching the two start their match.

Ann has been watching this whole time. She also had put another scarf around her neck. Similar to the one she was holding. Perhaps for safe keeping. Blue eyes dart here and there as she watches Mattheu and Filshiar wrestle. Wincing some and cheering until it is evident who the winner is and there is applause heard from her. "Well done Sir Knight!" Glancing at Mattheu to see how he's faring but she's calling the two names out next. "Lord Cillian and Lord Gaspard to the pit you go!" Grinning. This one should be very interesting.

Once up from the mud Mattheu makes no attempts to brush or sweep the mud off of him, as wet as he is most of it is either finding purchase to his trousers or slipping from his body. All except for what is caked into his locks giving the bells a fight for if they will find their song or click with a wet muddy clacking for the moment. He nods to Filshiar, "A wonderful wrestle! May all of your fights tonight be as exhilarating for you." He looks over to Ann upon the benches as he grins and makes to *share* his mud with her.

Lore gives Cassiopeia a faintly surprised glance, "You have an excellent eye, Marquessa, to have picked me out as covered as I am. A pleasure, as always." Pausing, she chuckles softly, "I didn't leave the city, I just... laid low. I had a few.. issues.. to work out. But it is certainly good to be getting back into the swing of things." Glancing between Dacian and Cassiopeia, she reaches into her tote and withdraws a thick fold of cloth and begins to carefully shake it out, the fabric a gleaming white that's warm to the touch as she offers to share it with the pair of them. "This should provide a nice buffer should any mud come flying this way. It's more than large enough for the three of us, if we sit in a row."

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

With drink in hand, Dacian starts to make quick work of it. "One way to stop caring also, is to get so drunk that you don't remember anything and /think/ you had an excellent night when you wake up filthy," he muses and then toasts the mudpit before consuming more of whatever Redrain was serving up. He does glances to the white fabric with a raise of his brow, "White and mud do not mix well, are you sure?"


*** Gaspard has called for an opposing check with Cillian. ***
Gaspard checks dexterity and brawl at normal. Gaspard is successful.
Cillian checks dexterity and brawl at normal. Cillian marginally fails.
*** Gaspard is the winner. ***

Does Ann look worried when Mattheu makes that approach? Or maybe she is remembering what Nazmir said about getting mud on her. She did hear something about 'cousin' earlier and she's shooting a look to the prince as her hands come out in protest as if that would fend off one Lord Rivenshari from sharing the mud.


"I can only hope so," Filshiar tells Mattheu with a quick look to the other fighters as he exits the pit. He doesn't bother cleaning up either, since he'll be out there again shortly, though he does wipe a bit of mud away from his eyes. "And thank you, your grace," he adds to Ann. From the sidelines, he cheers on the next pair as they enter and watches the wrestle with interest.

Catching sight of Mattheu making his way over towards Ann and watching his cousin lift her hands, Nazmir gives up a warm laugh and an approving nod of his head before he's looking back to the pits to watch as the second set of fighters begin to square off.

Cillian laughs at Caspian and when he hears his name he moves to the but pits, most will see that the Northern lords upper body is covered in tattoos of various things mostly animals and flowers, his back is a full back ink of a stag up on its back legs. He hips down into the mud with a satisfying squish sound. He looks to Gaspard, his hazel eyes are intense as he watches the large Blackram, he has a smirk on his face. "Well...this should be fun." he rolls his shoulders looking, "Lets have some fun Blackram, ya?" he gets low and waits watching Gaspard, the man is a walking wall and most people are taller then him. He moves around the wall and attempts to jump the man from behind, pulling to try and use his weight to pull him back. But that's not working so he kind of holds on and dangles from the mans massive shoulder there may be few choice words spoken in Northern Shav as he kind of hangs there. He leans in to whisper something to the massive man that he is trying to pull down and failing to do so.

Petra covers her hand with her mouth, stifling laughter as Mattheu does his best to bound toward the stands. "There we go! That's the spirit!" she cheers her nephew on before turning to watch the next match.

"Your charming presence is too difficult to hide," she says warmly to Lore, and at the offer of a cover she grins a little. Looking between Lore and Dacian she takes a sip of her drink, "this is perfect. We can remain pristine all the while we can encourage the carnage!," she grins easily at that. As each pair goes up, she gives them an enthusiastic clap (putting her drink down of course). "How exciting," she is biting on her lip, watching as everything unfolds, seeming to cheer for everyone and not play favourites, or at least yet. Though she is going to be hard pressed not to cheer for both Nazmir and Caspian, poor Cassiopeia is divided. "I've never watched such a thing. We have fitting in pits, certainly, but not filled with mud." Cassiopeia doesn't elaborate, she just looks back at the pit and waits with anticipation for the next competitors to go. "Sling that mud!," she encourages energetically.

Caspian watches the contestants, beaming as Cillian and Gaspard take to the mud. "Toos him in the mud! rub it in his hair! put it in his ear!" he glanced side eyed to nazmir to see if he was causing the prince some concern..

Stepping up, Gaspard enters the pit and finds the center, turning to face Cillian. He's already coated in mud, tunic off and revealing thickly-muscled pectorals with a deeply notched abdomen, jaw set, expression hard, ready for the struggle to ensue. "I intend to!" He hunkers down, hands up and ready. As Cillian grapples him and then hangs onto his shoulder, he shifts to bring Cillian into his arms with a wink, throwing Cillian to the mud!

Dacian lifts his hand up and gives a bit of a wave in Filshiar's direction, before he goes back to drinking like a lush. "I have goals," he intones to those around him, as he finishes off his drink and then waves to those catering the function, "More!" He points at the goblet and gestures. His hand falls onto the fabric that Lore has dragged out and his gaze flashes toward her, "An interesting choice. Do you have a supplier? And are they selling?

Mattheu slips to his knees before the stands as he then shakes his head as if a dog let in from the downpour and sends bits of mud flying in every direction. Standing up to bow to Nazmir, "Thank you your highness. Filshiar offered a good fight. And I see that you're to fight as well." A small spin to watch Cillian and Gaspard and he cheers out, "Climb that giant! Come'on Cillian!"

Ann looked on with interest in the wrestling that occurs between Cillian and Gaspard. Laughing when she takes notice of the northern lord and how he just hangs onto Gaspard until Gaspard puts Cillian in the mud whole heartly. "Oh Spirits!" But soon the match between Cillian and Gaspard is done and Ann offers her congratulations. "Good job Lord Gaspard! Better luck next time Lord Cillian." Perhaps the next match is the one she's really been waiting for because she is staring at her cousin now as she calls in his direction, "Prince Nazmir your turn! Champion Caspian you too! Both of you to the pit!"

Mattheu has joined the front row bench.

Ann has joined the front row bench.

Caspian gives a grin, waggling his eyebrows at Nazmir as he squelches his way into the mud. The mud oozes through his toes and up his leg and reaches down to ball a bit of it up and toss it from hand to hand. "Think of this as.. a relaxing soak for the complexion!" he settled himself and smiled to nazmir, "imagine im a bear!"

Mattheu turns when catching a few words from Dacian and Lore. He nods to Dacia, "Good to see you again. Now what is this about getting dirty doesn't count within the muds?" Then looking to Lore, "I don't believe we've met." He smiles warmly to her as he half bows to her, "Lord Mattheu Rivenshari."

"I'm not sure what I will do will qualify as fighting, Lord Mattheu! But, it's all in the name of entertainment." Nazmir is looking back to the pit once more, giving a laugh as Cillian tries to climb up Gaspard and pull him down, "There you go! That's how you do it!" But, the larger man takes the advantage and there's a cheer given when Gaspard flings Cillian into the mud. When Ann announces the next pairing, there's an arch of his brow and he's looking over towards his cousin, "Rigged! I have to fight CASPIAN!? So. Not. Fair." But, he's smiling as he looks over towards Caspian as he follows him down into the mud pits. He, too, is reaching down to scoop up some mud, balling it up and then idly tossing it in the direction of where Cassiopeia, Lore and Dacian are sitting before he's looking back to his opponent, "A relaxing soak indeed! And you don't qualify as a bear. You can't roar loud enough."


*** Caspian has called for an opposing check with Nazmir. ***
Caspian checks dexterity and brawl at normal. Caspian is successful.
Nazmir checks wits and brawl at normal. Nazmir fails.
*** Caspian is the winner. ***

Cillian squeak's, "I always wanted a hug from you Lord Gaspard but not this way!" he calls out as he is tossed into the mud with a oof, he looks up for a moment as he is on his back and breaths deeply. He sits up and pulls himself up out of the mud with a sick suction sound as he looks to Gaspard, "Good one Lord Gaspard." he starts his way back for the stands. looking at Caspian as he is called to head in, he trails his fingers into the mud and move to scoop some up and rub it into the champions hair with a grin as he gets back up into the stands.


Filshiar cheers the pair on as they fight, at one point giving a look up into the crowd among the benches to catch Dacian's wave. He waves in return, then turns to watch the rest of the fight. He will try to intercept Cillian after, telling him, "It was a good fight! Well done." Similar is shouted to Gaspard as the next pair are announced.

Vincenzo has joined the back row bench.

Laughing softly, Lore shakes her head at Cassiopeia, "You are far too kind, Marquessa, but thank you. Please, tell me, how have you been these past months? And Lord Remus? I feel terrible for disappearing as I did, but I desperately needed the solitude to work through some familial issues." Glancing across to Dacian, she chuckles, "It doesn't stain, it doesn't wet very easily, and it's always warm. Could you think of anything better to shelter under in this weather?" As to his question, she merely shakes her head slightly and offers, "I *am* the suppleir. But this is from my personal stock, so not for sale, I'm afraid." She motions to the rest of her outfit, which is suspiciously similar cloth, "It's the only way I can stand to get through the winters here anymore." Mattheu's introduction leads to a chuckling Lore, "We've met before my lord, but I can understand not remembering. Alora'nil'khulud. But you can call me Lore Artiglio. It's wonderful to see you again, you haven't lost an iota of your charm." She offers a seated bow back to him before quickly flipping the sheet of fabric up to block the flung ball of mud, another flick sending the mud sliding off the fabric to squelch ontot he ground.

Gaspard laughs gently. "Likewise, Lord Cillian." He says easily in a gravelly baritone. He steps off to the side, awaiting the next bout.

Vincenzo has left the back row bench.

"Is it? You're muddy," Dacian supplies quickly to Mattheu, his chin tilting up a ways to make sure he has room to exit stage left if any of that mud gets near him, "I don't know, what doesn't count?" He looks confused and then relieved when Mattheu introduces himself instead of making Dacian force out some more conversation. He gets more to drink however and is doubly relieved, "Oh thank the Stars! You're my hero. Keep them coming and you will have more silver than you make in a year's wages from the Redrain folk that hire you-" he promises to the commoner who's serving drinks. Then with a chipper noise he drinks. He shakes his head at Lore, "Oh it's perfect actually." He laughs at Lore's mention of being the supplier, "Such a pity. Beautiful piece. I admire it of course and will absolutely settle under it if you're not opposed to close encounters with a stranger?" Since he hasn't offered his name yet. His gaze flickers back to see the match between Cillian and ... Gaspard, "Who is that man. So imposing."

Mattheu lets out a laugh and stomps his feet upon the bench sending mud to spray again as Cillian and Gaspard fall to the muds. Then to look over to Lore with rise of color to his cheeks under the mud, "I find it hard that I would forget a face, though its been an interesting few months these last five or so. It's good to meet you again, Lore Artiglio." He's then turning to share some mud with Petra as he scrapes a clump from his trousers. "Auntie. I give you this gift. May you wear it well."

Caspian looks to Nazmir and then takes his words as a challenge. Cas through his stance wide, spreads his arms and bellows "ROAR" in his best bear attempt! His roar was cut short as a ball of mud from nazmir clocks him full in the face. "Caspian sputters and back pedals as he wipes his eyes and spits mud. "yeah alright, i deserved that!" Then the two are tangled up in it! Arms wrapped around torsos, legs wrapped around legs, torso wrapped around.. well not a lto because that wpould be painful. Caspian May have had the edge in raw physical prowess, but no northern prince was a stranger to wrestling. For every pull and twist Caspian tried to use to get nazmir off his feat, the northern prince wriggled free and reversed it! "Gods Nazmir, you are more wriggly than that snake the marquessa carries about!" Caspian is laughing, and now covered in mud despite not going down yet, just from all the churning on the field. Finally, he manages to grab nazxmir firmly, his mud covered hand finding purchase as he tossed the prince over his hips and down into the mud, the splatter of mud covering Cas and any onlookers to close.

Gaspard checks luck and athletics at normal. Gaspard is successful.

Caspian checks luck and athletics at normal. Caspian is successful.

Filshiar checks luck and athletics at normal. Filshiar is successful.

Gaspard checks luck and athletics at hard. Gaspard marginally fails.

Nazmir was already in the process of scooping up another ball of mud when Caspian begins to roar and that's the perfect opportunity to send it sailing to smuck the other man in the face, only to follow that up with, "Mwah! That's what you get for roaring in the mud!" Of course, the next thing he knows is that Caspian has him in a bear hug, causing him to call out, "Hey, hey! No bear hugs allowed! Breaking the rules!" There's a laugh to accompany it, though, even as he manages to wriggle free once or twice and when he's compared to Cassiopeia's snake, there's a deeper laugh, "Shh! If Solaris hears that, he'll try and bite me again!" Maybe it's the laughter or maybe it's the slippery mud, but the next time the Prince finds himself grappled, he's suddenly being pitched over the side of Caspian and into the mud, arms flailing about as he gives a muddy sputter that gives way to a laugh, "Oof. Well done, Caspian. Well done!" Pushing himself up to his feet, he doesn't even bother trying to wipe the mud from himself. Instead, he's angling to clear the pits as quickly as possible, to make room for the next set of challengers.

Caspian checks luck and athletics at hard. Caspian fails.

This means Ann got splattered again from the match between Caspian and Nazmir. Is that a look of delight that her cousin, the Prince got muddy? Maybe but she tries to look sympathetic for it and fails. She has been watching the match all the way through as others around her speak. Not meaning to be rude but she is interested in this, invested. When it looks like the match has drawn to a close and the winner is Caspian she rises from her seat and applauds. She's a site because she's now wearing mud as if its part of her attire. "Well done Champion! Well done Cousin!" But she doesn't make an annoucement quite yet. "Please, refill your cups and we will start again shortly!"

Cillian laughs at Gaspard and oh look there is a Dacian again there is a wicked grin on his face as he heads for the man sitting talking to Lore and co.."Everyone having fun?" he asks standing there as some mud slides off his back side and plops onto the ground.

Petra has left the front row bench.

2 Rivenshari Clansman have been dismissed.

Lila, the stoic apprentice have been dismissed.

1 Rivenshari Clan Guardsman have been dismissed.

Taking a sip of her drink and hiding from the mudslinging she chats with those seated at the bench, peeking out to watch the fight take place. Taking in a small breath as she sees Caspian and Nazmir about to go at it, she says as an aside to Lore. "I've been excellent. I spent the winter in Tremorus, which was lovely. I think I will do that from now on. The family is doing well, the March is flourishing, I am gratefully blessed," she says sincerely. "Oh, my brother is well enough, he is always out and about, I rarely see him. But, he's always there when I need him.," she says fondly. Then she hears something about her snake and she laughs. "He bit you once!," she calls out at Nazmir. "Once!," she cannot help but laugh but she tries not to laugh too much. When the fight is over, Cassiopeia seems to relax a little and she stands up to clap loudly. "Well done both of you! You are both utterly filthy!," this is the point right?

Filshiar checks luck and athletics at normal. Filshiar is successful.

Filshiar checks luck and athletics at hard. Filshiar marginally fails.

Filshiar checks luck and athletics at daunting. Filshiar is successful.

Gaspard checks luck and athletics at daunting. Gaspard fails.

Lore turns a smile towards Dacian and shakes her head, "Not opposed at all. I find most people are strangers, even if names have been exchanged. After all, what else do we really know about one another?" She flickers a smile, "If I come across any extra, though, I will certainly be amenable to selling it for the right price." Looking back to the ring, she chuckles, "The shorter man is Lord Cillian Blackwood. The very large man is Lord Gaspard Blackram. The Blackram's are known for their extreme height and martial prowess." Shifting slightly to look back to Mattheu, she smiles and shakes her head, "I am eminently forgettable, my lord. Truly, it's perfectly alright. But it's good to see you again as well." Flashing a smile at Cillian, Lore gives a nod, "Always. Though, I do believe you missed a spot, my lord. Right there, I see clean skin." She points to high up on his left cheek, a bare patch of skin visible through the mud. To Cassiopeia, she smiles, "I fully understand. I couldn't get through these abominable winters without my furs and pyreweave. I'm terribly glad to hear everything is going well, and I do hope that you won't hesitate to reach out if you find you need anything, Marquessa. Proscipi has been such a good friend to me, anything I can do to return that favor I am glad to."

Caspian checks luck and athletics at daunting. Caspian fails.

Gaspard checks stamina and survival at daunting. Botch! Gaspard fails completely.

Caspian checks stamina and survival at daunting. Caspian fails.

Dacian smiles blithely at Cillian, "I will soon be having fun with a few more of these downed." He jangles the goblet and continues to try to rush his drunk onward, with a glance to Lore and Cassiopeia, "I'm not sold on this mud men feature. Are they supposed to look more appealing?" He thinks with a tilt of his head, but then he grins at Lore, "Absolutely nothing. Evidently for some, a name carries weight and stories, that we're supposed to acquire through the magical whisper of it through our ears. Let me try mine?" He whispers it to Lore, "I am Dacian Krosse." And then he grins, "It may have bumped me up to an acquaintance status, perhaps?" He ohs softly, "Absolutely. I'm in the game of making money. I wouldn't necessarily buy it for myself, but to squeeeeeze the most silver we could out of it. I was impoverished when I came to this city," he sighs, "What a splendid place of opportunity." The names has him grin, "Oh I do know Lord Cillian. Ahh and that is Lord Gaspard Blackram," he considers him for a long time, "Interesting." Then he gestures, "And that is Sir Filshiar. It looks like the three of them..."

Marie, the Warlord's Assistant, 2 Arakkoan Free Guards arrive, following Remus.

Ann did call out for Filshiar, Caspian, and Gaspard to go back into the pit for one last fight. She watches with nervous energy to see who the final winner will be in this.

"Hey, I didn't say it happened more then once," is what Nazmir is calling out to Cassiopeia when she comments on the snake biting. Once he's clear of the pits, he's moving to snag himself a mug of whiskey before turning his attention to the stands. It's then that he's moving to weave his way up to that second row of seating where Dacian, Lore and Cassiopeia have settled themselves and as he approaches, he's flashing a smile to the trio, "Well hello, everyone! You three are looking /far/ too clean, if I might take a moment to point such things out."

"Don't you dare-" Dacian is the first to say to Nazmir, with a shockingly aggressive look.

Mattheu offers some mud to both Ann and Petra before Petra looks at him with a shake of her head. Within a laugh, Mattheu looks to the pits for the final three and calls out to all of them. "Show us what it means to get really dirty!"

"I assume it's the family name that carries most of the weight. Gods know my given name carries little on its own. I've spent far too long out of the limelight, as it were, to be *known* anymore." Lore chuckles softly and shakes her head as Dacian gives his name, "I'm unfamiliar with it, but that is not terribly surprising. Still, a pleasure to meet you all the same, Dacian Krosse." She flicks a glance to Nazmir and smiles brightly, "I could put you back on your arse in the mud if you care to try, Your Highness." All smiles and sweetness and pretty softness. Surely she wouldn't dare! Then three of the fighters are called back to the ring. "Well now, a three way... this should be most interesting.."

Ann stares at Mattheu when he offers that mud towards her. "I think you have done your deed for the night." Looking at how there's spots of mud all on her. Her attention back to the final three once again. Her own sound of bells heard as she expells some nervous energy by jiggling a knee. She likes all three that are in the pit after all and would be pleased for whoever wins this.

Despite the danger posed to his freshly pressed and clean uniform, Remus hurries towards the benches while trying to stay out of the way of stray mud. Cassiopeia and Nazmir are given a quick smile, lips parting in surprise after he catches sight of Lore. "Sister, Prince Nazmir, good to see you two. Do you mind if I stay behind you for shielding from the mud? Lore? Lore Artiglio? Is that actually you?" The jest in his voice makes the shock sound a pleased one as he loiters near his sister.

A warm smile etches on her features, taking a slow sip of her drink and she nods her head to Lore. "That is always appreciated, thank you," she says graciously and then cants her head to look over at Dacian. "Appealing or not, I will require him to go straight to the bath before walking through the house," she says of the approaching Nazmir with a skeptical look because he is in fact quite dirty. To the prince she flashes a smile, "those are fight words your Highness," she points out and then adds, "well done. I am impressed," she says sincerely. Then she sees the approach of someone else, Remus. Her eyes light up at the irony, "we were just talking about you!," she calls to her brother, waving him over. "What a coincidence," she seems rather impressed by this as she keeps her distance from Nazmir, eyeing suspiciously.

Caspian trots into the ring when the fight is called, eyeing the other two fighters with a grin, "Well now.. THIS will be interesting!" he adjusts his stance, getting low as he looks at the other two men. "First one in the mud buys drinks for the others?"

Dacian gives a weighted look to Lore at the mention of family name, then makes a stage whisper to her (since he's getting drunk), "Mine is unfortunately made up, to fit in." He gives her a bold smile, followed but another long chug of his booze. As promised, the commoner that's been serving him is back with some refills, which he takes in his second hand. One drink in each hand now. He agrees with Cassiopeia, "You ought to rinse him off in the rain first."

Cillian looks back over at Ann and Matti, there is along look to them both then he looks over as the three are called back into the mud. He watches the ring for a moment and then he's looking back to Lore, "Oh, I have a message for you Lore. Do you want it now or later?" he smirks watching her then moving to dip his finger in the mud on his side and looks to Dacian and wiggles a finger in his direction. "Its good for the skin." he winks at the man. Then turns to head back over to lean on the railing to watch the three below in the pit, his hip out a bit to the side showing there are more tattoos that stick out from the waist of his pants. But for now people get to see his very muddy backside. "Come on Caspian! show them how its done" he cheers the champion on!

There's a laugh giving towards Dacian as Nazmir gives a shake of his head, "Rest assured, you're safe." At least for the moment. Lore's comment has him casting a look towards the pit before he's looking back over towards her, "Tempting. Very tempting. But, I think I've embarrassed myself enough in the pits for today." It's then that he's loking back over towards Cassiopeia, a quick little laugh given in her direction, "Yep. They are, aren't they?" A wink is flashed, but he does move to claim a seat without splattering the trio in mud. When Remus approaches, there's a glance towards him, a quick laugh given, "You're not safe from the mud from me. But you can certainly use me as a shield, if you want." A pause and then it's to Dacian, "With as heavy as the rain is, I imagine it'll wash most of it away."


Filshiar turns to Ann at the announcement and gives her a quick nod, trotting out into the mud pit to join the other men. "Well met," he tells them. "Let's see just how muddy we can get," he says, grinning at the state they're all in. "I like the sound of that, Caspian." He crouches and reaches out to clasp arms or otherwise signal the start of the fight, then pulls against the two men until they all soon find themselves slipping, sliding, and falling through the mud. He had the opportunity to watch both fighters from the sidelines and uses his own lithe movements to move with their attacks and slip between and under them when necessary. His hair whips around him as he grits his teeth and fights with a fierceness that almost surprises him, given the friendly nature of the event.

"Deal." He rumbles to Caspian. As the fight ensues, its clear this man is resilient. He truly is as he slips, stumbles and falls all over the place in this slippery arena. Sweaty, panting, Gaspard slugs it out with Filshiar and Caspian, blow for blow. Eventually it wears on him, and once he slips up again and collapses, he yields from exhaustion, lathered in mud.

"YOU, stop that!" Dacian points with his goblets at Cillian, since the threat of Nazmir lessens, booze threatening to slosh over the sides as he holds it up to point at Cillian.

Ann has been watching and watching. Only to wince when Gaspard is the first to truly fall in the mud. "Lord Gaspard!" Trying to give him encouragement but seeing she's a little too late and then her gaze falls to Filshair and Caspian. Licking her lips as she sees who's the winner between those two.

Caspian was clearly not prepared for the sudden ferocity of the fighting. a small yelp escapes the man as Filshiar and Gaspard are suddenly tugging and pulling and grappling. His legs churn in the mud, pumping frantically to stay upright. "Hah thats quite a grip and OOOH WHOSE HAND WAS THAT!" He was laughing as he tried to grapple with filshiar only for the knight to slip nimbly through his grasp. his arms, covered in mud, squelched free and he was unable to form a grip. This left him off balance for filshiar's counter And with legs pumping and arms flailing Caspian finds himself faceplanting into the mud.

"Of course, Marquessa," Lore responds with a smile to Cassiopeia. When Remus joins them, she turns that smile towards him, "It is indeed. I tell you, Proscipi has the sharpest eyes. Always able to pcik me out no matter where I am or how I look." Rising up, she reaches out to draw Remus in and settle him between herself and Cassiopeia. "Here, share in the protection of the cloth. We're keeping warm and clean and fashionable." Looking quite pleased to have him present, Lore looks back to Dacian and chuckles, "Mine is a bastardization of my birth name, paired with my mother's family name. There's not really... family names... where I was born." Mention of a message has her lifting a brow and looking towards Cillian, "Does the message become moot once you've cleaned up?" Because this will clearly determine when she chooses to accept said message! To Nazmir, she flashes a grin, "There are worse places to embarrass yourself, Highness. But I fully understand and commend your prudence."


It was Filshiar's hand, definitely. Despite the fierce fight and movements, the knight is having fun, able to cler away distractions and focus on the muddy ruckus in the pit. When it's all over, he remains standing, though barely and panting heavily. "That," he starts, huffing, "was the most fun I have had in a while."


*** Caspian has called for an opposing check with Filshiar. ***
Caspian checks luck and archery at normal. Caspian fails.
Filshiar checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Filshiar marginally fails.
*** Filshiar is the winner. ***

Caspian grabs a handful of mud, rolls over, and grins, sending it slinging toward the vicotr with a laugh. "i bet it was!!"

Ann has been watching this whole time cheering where it was apporiate to do so. Finally, when it comes clear to who the winner of the three way she calls out, "Our winner tonight is is Sir Filshair! Well done!" Then she will run over to where the pit is and offer quiet words to the winner. She's already dirty as it is so it won't matter if she gets grosser.

Cillian laughs as he watches the three in the pit, he shakes his head laughing. "No, it does not." he says to Lore. He looks to Dacian. "What? I would never do such a think Master Dacian!" he looks back and hops down into the pit the a squish and heads over in Caspian lays, he puts a hand out to him to help him up with a wide grin, "Was a drink offered after?" he teases the champion.


*** Caspian has called for an opposing check with Cillian. ***
Caspian checks dexterity and archery at normal. Caspian is successful.
Cillian checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Cillian is successful.
*** Cillian is the winner. ***

There's anotehr quick little laugh in the direction of Lore, along with an incline of Nazmir's head as he lifts his mug in a little salute, "I do manage to contain myself every once and awhile." A quick grin is given before the mug is brought to his lips so that he can take a healthy swallow from within. He's then looking back to the pits, taking in the fights that are happening, only to give a little laugh as he calls out, "Good show, Caspian! Well done, Sir Filshair! And you too, Lord Gaspard."

Mattheu checks luck at hard. Mattheu is successful.

Caspian looks to cillian and grins up at the man. "yes something like that.. " but then another mudball is sluing! dont give caspian mud.. he is apparently a child. fortunately he is a child with bad aim.

Gaspard flicks mud off, chuckling faintly. "It was a good match." He nods to those involved, those in the crowd, standing off to the side and realizing just how muddy he is


*** Mattheu has called for an opposing check with Caspian. ***
Mattheu checks dexterity and athletics at normal. Mattheu marginally fails.
Caspian checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Caspian is successful.
*** Caspian is the winner. ***

Mattheu laughs from the benches as Caspian takes to throwing mud at the others, setting to dive from benches back towards the pits to seek to tackle Caspian. While he makes it from the benches upon his feet, its hitting the pit itself that he slips and finds himself sliding past the Champion as he reaches out to try and grapple his way back to his feet.

"Thank you, Lore. I appreciate being in a protective spot where the mud will leave my uniform unsullied. Now, if it was white sand or a pile of pineapples, I well might have jumped in," Remus confides with a glimmer of mirth in his eyes to Lore and Cassiopeia, then looks over Nazmir with a slight roll of his eyes. "Of course, I should have known you'd be in there proving the strength of the Redrain line! How did you fare? Is this a common spectacle in the north?" His head keeps tilting from side to side, catching more of the muddy goings-on while beaming a pleased grin at Lore. "I hope you've had a welcoming return to the city. Out on more adventures?"

Dacian gives a whistle and an applaud for the winner, Filshiar, "Well done Fil!" But then he's watching the mud-romancing out there in the pit and he looks aside to Lore, "Thank you for the warmth." He wiggles his fingers but is making his way out of the seating area.

Dacian has left the middle row bench.

Ann chuckles at something that Filshair has said to her once she had neared to him. Then she turns to the crowd in general. "That is all I had for you tonight! If you wish to stay and get in the mud yourselves you are welcome to it! We also have our library that away if you fear the mud. Good night all and thank you for making this a success! You are welcome to stay as long as you like!"


Filshiar raises his hand again in thanks to those who wish him well, then takes a few steps to meet Ann, bowing his head slightly as she speaks to him. He offers a few words of his own, as well as a small smile. The two break away and he chuckles at the playful mud-slinging in the pit. Instead of joining in, though, he heads over to Dacian to say, "You look far too clean, friend."

Caspian watches mattheu go sliding past him in the mud and laughs with delight. "Right so.." he reache out to tap matti with his leg, and then cillian with his hand, and then POINTEDLY looks at ann, glancing to the other two with a simple question in his eyes

Lore turns a smile towards Remus and gives a nod, "I appreciate being able to keep warm and clean when possible, so I imagine others do as well." To Nazmir, she chuckles, "That Redrain willpower rearing it's head, hm? Fair enough!" Settling back in her seat, she looks acros sto Dacian as he rises, "Leaving so soon? We'll have to catch up another time then. You sound like you have an interesting story to tell, I'd love to hear it." Leaning forward a touch, Lore looks to Cassiopeia and grins, "I do have some amazing luck, perhaps it helped Lord Remus to decide to join his sister at just the right time?" Then she's flashing a grin towards Cillian, "In that case, yes, I'll have the message."

"Pineapple wrestling," she considers this as Remus makes the suggestion, she could probably envision it. They are spikey after all. An easy smile on her lips, she whispers something to Naz, before looking back at her brother. Dacian's departure is met with a polite wave and a warm smile. When the fight comes to an end, she stands up again and claps for everyone. "What a great show." To the winner she congratulates and to Ann she smiles more broadly. "Well done, princess Ann, what a delightful event!," she says and the smiles at Mattheu, "both of you-- well done."

"Mmmhmm," is offered to Lore before Nazmir is looking over in the direction of Ann, only to call out, "Well done, Cousin! Loads of fun! I'll make sure to blame you when there's mud tracked all through the Manor, though." A flashes a grin and lifts his cup in a salute to Ann before he's looking over towards Dacian, "Hey! No running away from the mud!" There's a smile, there, though and no threat of actually muddying the man before he's looking over towards Remus, "Oh, well, you know. Caspian handed me my ass and put me face down in the mud. But, it was fun!"

Ann is not paying attention to any looks Caspian may be giving because her attention is to the Marquessa when she gives her a compliment. "Thank you so much for coming Marquessa Cassiopeia. I do hope you have enjoyed yourself tonight!" There's a snort to Nazmir when he calls out all the mud tracking in the manor will be blamed on her and she tells him, "Bring it on! I am not afraid!" She's related to half of the Compact so there is truth in her words when she says that.

Server Announcement: Server Message of the Day: The game has had a catastrophic data failure requiring a reboot from the last save, which was three weeks ago. All game data since February 4th has been lost. Please see the post on the News bb for more information. Staff is working to restore what we can from logs, but it will likely be a few days so any non-critical requests should be held until we can get that done.


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Victory for the loyalists! But not without cost. The events of the second battle at Sungreet are sure to remain ingrained in the participants' brains for eternity, no matter how much they'd wish to scrub the memory. It had seemed an easy victory in the beginning, given the dwindling forces of the traditionalists thanks to the diplomatic efforts that had prompted a ceasefire from many traditionalists houses in the wake of Prince Dagon's death and numerous losses. Houses Dredcall, Nightcove, Lostlan, the Darkwater rebels and some minor baronies seemed willing to keep the fight going. Even if they were to lose, they would lose with honor knowing that they served a righteous cause...

While Waldo's arrival was not a complete surprise given many had expected a confrontation with the so-called 'Anti-Dominus' at some point. Very, very few had expected him to arrive heralded by a storm cloud (which no scholar had predicted) and few hundred ships bearing shavs with their unfamiliar emblems. What had come as even more of a surprise is that the shavs began to fire on their traditionalist 'allies' as well as the loyalists. What had proceeded was a blood bath. Some captains began to drop dead from some malady and/or drown, depending on who tells the tale. Some insist that the malady had caused spontaneous dehydration and that the were drownings due to the expelled bodily fluids but others are pretty sure this madness brought on by shock. Still, they do not seem inclined to rethink what they saw, even after the fact.

The shav ships did not fare much better as an unseen assailant, shrouded by the mist, tore many of their number to shreds in increasingly grotesque ways that many struggle to describe. The assailant seems to have seen the murders as a form of 'artwork' and no one has yet claimed them as their own.

A turning point came when numerous traditionalists, realising their hopes of an honorable victory were lost given their Anti-Dominus was allying with their dreaded enemies, were swayed to side with the loyalists to defeat the shavs and the anti-Faith. All but Nightcove. For while these impassioned pleas were being expressed, Countess Ember Redreef expressed her desire to butcher Admiral Anders Nightcove, followed by the man, along with his soldiers', subsequent drowning. Or as some more imaginative folk would claim, 'dehydration followed by melting into a puddle of goo'. The Nightcove forces, horrified by this turn of events, turned their rage to the Redreef fleet, keen on vengeance for their Admiral's demise. The strange Orazian Loyalists known as the Orazian Sentinels has snuck into battle with Waldo's fleet, only to turn on the man's forces for vengeance for their beloved Dominus.

With a majority of the traditionalists turning their attentions to the shavs and Waldo, Nightcove locked in battle with Redreef and Eswynd, the Orazian Sentinels attacking and overtaking the anti-Faith's fleet, luck seemed to turn around for the loyalists. After an extended and excruciating fight, the Anti-Dominus' ship was overrun and Waldo was brought before High Lord Victus himself. Between calls for justice (in whatever form) from the Orazian loyalists, a fair trial from some of the loyalists and a swift execution from others, Victus had quite a selection of choices. Admonishing Waldo for his acts that had claimed the lives of many, the High Lord swiftly brought his alaricite axe down and freed the man's head from his body, hanging the head on the prow of his ship on his return home.

Traditionalist forces were given the choice of kneeling and swearing to end thralldom in their domains or face a similar justice. Around 30% of their forces had refused to fully submit and were executed to send a message that the High Lord takes abolition very seriously. The surviving Nightcove forces had retreated, presumably to their domain, and seem to be the sole traditionalist house that refuses to submit.

All, in all, it was a successful, albeit costly and very, very confusing endeavor.
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Given Arx's location so very near the sea, storms are not unusual, especially during the shift of spring into summer. So, at first, no one seems concerned when dark clouds gather out at sea. As usual, the citizens of the city hunker down and prepare to wait out the storm, which is usually mercifully brief.

Usually.

Yet as the dark clouds sweep over the city of Arx, the strength of the storm is something of a surprise as heavy rain, strong winds, and rumbling thunder make the city streets almost impassable save for the bravest and most determined of travellers. Even worse, the storm lingers, leaving some ships stranded on the docks and preventing the arrival of other ships. Even worse, there are some ships that are missing and have not been accounted for, along with their crews.

The stormy weather is the most common topic of conversation whether it be lamenting a flooded garden or speculating on when the storm might end. Temples in the city see an increase in activity as some choose to beseech the gods to turn off the rain for a bit so that the city can dry out, particularly as the storm rages on and there seems to be no end in sight...
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Arx endures the strength of the storm, but the longer that those dark clouds drop endless rain on the city, the more its people begin to suffer the consequences. Flooding and accidents are rampant. While the upper parts of the city also have to deal with the excessive water, no part of the city floods worse than the Lowers and, by extension, the Pravus Ward. Only the valiant efforts of the Lowers denizens keep that part of the city relatively safe while the organization of House Pravus and its vassals do the same for their Ward.

The closed markets, empty for days due to the storm, mean that many merchants and middlemen suffer the economic cost of the storm as well. They aren't the only ones. Dockworkers cannot work in the thundering rain and miss their wages. Ship captains with perishable goods in their ships' holds face financial loss, maybe even ruin. Even the highest eschelons of the city are not spared as the flooding leaves some of the great manors and compounds of the wealthy almost uninhabitable.

Many citizens turn to the gods in such a time. The shrines of Mangata, Gild, and even the Sentinel are crowded with far more supplicants than usual. The Faith may appreciate the increase in the faithful and their generous donations, but even the clergy begins to fear that if their prayers aren't answered soon, the people might begin to blame the gods for the deluge instead.

After a night of the strongest winds and fiercest rain yet in the course of the storm, the dawn comes with sun and the beginnings of blue skies as the dark clouds sweep back out to the sea. Now that messengers are able to reach out to the further reaches of the Compact, it becomes apparent that the rest of the kingdom did not suffer from such a storm. People might find it strange and, perhaps, privately wonder if this is the response of the gods to the recent conflicts that have rocked the Mourning Isles, but as the city of Arx begins to recover from the damage of the storm, most don't try to wonder too hard about the cause as much as cleaning up the aftermath.
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