(1866-09-25) Pacitta Tourney : Joust Finals
Pacitta Tourney : Joust Finals
Summary: The Joust Finals of the Pacitta Tourney.
Date: 1866-09-25
Related: All the other Pacitta Tourney Logs for 1866
Aidric  Alexandra  Bartolo  Cathrynn  Elrick  Emilia  Evelyn  Gastogne  Jonathan  Leander  Lorelei  Lucas  Michael  Miranda  Raimond  Thaddeus  Tristan  

Tourney Grounds - Pacitta City - Pacitta

The tournament grounds stand ready for use at a moment's notice. The stands are setup with the well-to-do sitting in the center, with the best seats, and for any courtiers present. A half canopy has been established to help keep the shade in the area and protect from any of the elements, a thick leather trim going across the area where the VIPs are sitting raised up about fifty feet and supported by heavy wooden poles and tethers tying it. The benches have been formed of thick wood in the gallery, with lesser galleries set to the side for commoners, guards, and those who are watching and not immediately involved over in the arena. There are roughly eight rows of seats set up for the commoners stretching off the full length of the viewing gallery, and roughly three rows thick for the VIPs to sit upon. Among the rows are those who are bringing beverage and refreshments.

The arena is dusty, a pit formed in the ground which has been dug down flat with padded dirt roughly two feet down from the main tents, the incline designed to give the crowd a better view. The center of the arena betray tell-tale markings where it is apparent that the rail for jousts could be set, if not set already. The dirt is thick and solid, packed down as firmly and evenly as it can be to ensure good footing. From the opposite ends of the exhibition pavilions are a pair of berths where the combatants would enter from and where judges and guards would otherwise sit, as well as attendants to quickly go and tend to the injured or break apart the combatants should it be necessary. The main pit is larger than the pavilions, being roughly fifty horse lengths wide, enough for all the combatants to have plenty of room to brawl without being so spread out that the main viewing area would risk losing track of them.


While the weather is fair this day in Pacitta, it comes after a sudden rain squall has soaked the tourney grounds, leaving the jousting fields a fairly slippery combination of mud and trampled grass. There are some people who've been waiting in the sidelines and stands that look as though they've been soaked-and-dried, having not wanted to miss their chance at good seats! The boxes, of course, are covered, and Chancellor Bartolo Mancini looks quite content as he watches the contestants line up for the grand finale of the competition: The Joust finals!

Of course, the rain's been over for a bit over an hour now, and the stands have filled to bursting as anyone and everyone tries to get a spot where they can see the competition. There are a few scuffles in the common section of the audience, of course, but guards and occasionally even Knights of the Balanced Scale put a quick end to them and see the perpetrators tossed out on their ears (usually both combatants…there's little effort given to finding out who's right or wrong in those mini-brawls, unless it's a case of pickpocketing gone awry or the like. In any case, the sky has cleared save for a few wisps of white, and as the appointed hour comes, once again the clarion call of several brass horns erupts, quieting the crowd as the Announcer steps forward, clearing his throat and calling out

"Princes, Princesses, Dukes, Duchesses, Counts, Countesses, Barons, Baronesses, Lords, Ladies, Knights, and all the rest of you fine folk, welcome to the grand finale of the Pacitta Tourney's competitions…the Joust Finals! These very skilled or very fortunate Knights have battled their way through the ranks to reach this spot, and who now will claim victory? The Tourney is still up for grabs, Ladies and Gentlemen, and just a few points could prove all the difference! Now, let's have a big cheer for our jousters, and let the Joust begin!"

And, right on cue, the Crowd. goes. wild. (In the good way) as the first set of Jousters move to their positions.

Prince Tristan Tracano is dressed in some bit of finery or another today as he sits in the Tracano box. He applauds as the contestants come out, his applause being a little heavier for the two Giraldis, the only two Rivanans left in this contest. Perhaps one of them could pull out a victory for this event. He turns to Aidric and gestures to the wine. "I hope that the wine will make watching the rest of this event bearable. I was hoping your or Thaddeus could make it to the final." He glances over at Thaddeus and nods. "Do either of you have plans for after this tournament? I mean anything in particular?"

Evelyn l'Faust almost didn't come to the joust. But, she is here. And she's dragged Lucas l'Sainger with her, more or less. Her expression is stoic, though not as rigid as it was prior days after her second loss to Leander Giraldi. Settled, and awaiting the tilts to begin, she tells him, "These will be good enough seats to see well enough from, I think." Unlike many in the crowd, eager to see the skill of the knights, perhaps a few people fall from their seats, Evelyn's engagement with the goings-on seems to have an entirely different focus than mere entertainment.

"Good luck Little Brother." Raimond, his voice now recovered, clasps his brother's shoulder briefly before they move to their horses, giving him a bright smile, "Who would've thought, eh? Keep this up and we may well meet in the championship. But don't think I'll go easy on you if we do! Be careful though…this fellow is tough." He teases, before moving to his Haldis Charger, climbing astride and reaching down to accept his helmet, pulling it on and strapping it down, double-checking to make sure it's secure. Then he's off to his starting spot, offering a salute towards Elrick, "We meet again, Sir Elrick. Good luck to you, Sir. Just hopefully not quite as much as myself." Raimond smiles in good humor, and reaches down to accept his lance, waiting for the flag to drop before digging his heels in, lowering his lance, and charging at the heir to Hartswood.

Once again upon his black charger sits Leander Giraldi. He has done well in the brackets…better than he honestly thought he would (not that he would admit it). With a nod to his brother Raimond, he offers a word of encouragement. "Come, brother…let's take this day. Let us, you and I, be the final two standing." Not that it will happen…Leander still has a long ways to go. He then pulls away, to line up and offer a salute to the opponent on the opposite end of the field. It is time, once again, to prove his worth.

Likely half soaked, not that Emilia seems to care, from the grand rains that have wandered through Pacitta, Emilia's found a spot in the stands. There abouts the usual place, in order to watch the finals and see who will come on out. Even her cousin and brother both got knocked out earlier in the week. Besides, who doesn't love a good walk and trod about in the mud before watching horses slip and slide about while charging at each other. Ok, one of the Huntresses with her doesn't look all to keen about having to come out in the rain.

Staying inside his pavilion tent to take shelter from the rain, one can only guess what Elrick was doing to mentally prepare for the final day of Jousting. His squire knows though, Joseph having watched his knight look over documents from home, more numbers and figures, a peculiar ritual it seems for this tourney knight these days. When the appointed time has come though, the t'Tremaine Heir steps outside, his armor polished as he climbs onto his steed. Lining up with the others at the assigned area, he has a rather confident demeanor on as he looks out to the audience.

Once the announcements are finished though, Elrick heads to his assigned tilt lane, his steed trotting to their destination. A bow of head is offered to the High Council box once more and then a salute to the Couviere Royal box. Then his gaze turns to Raimond, the southern knight that had defeated him soundly in the melee. If it goes his way, it will be his chance for revenge. Helm slipped on, no words offered in return to Raimond's.

With his bloody nose healed and his ribs smarting significantly less, Jonathan t'Maren eyes the competition with a graveness that's so befitting his stoic personality. He's ready to face off against a new opponent, the younger Giraldi this time, in his first turn in the 'losers' round. It's not really the grandest title, but it's still competition here in the finals and that's pleasing enough.

Michael waves to the crowds as the cheer in welcome. Then he deftly turns his mount and rides towards the lists where Alexandra t'Artan waits. "Well I don't envy Damien today," he remarks to her, as he gives her a slaute. Then, he focuses, waiting for the joust to begin.

Alexandra snorts at Michael's remark, "I don't envy him on any day," she replies before she takes her place and salutes. When the flag drops she charges, aiming for Michael's chest.

On one hand not being in the joust is bad, and a bit of a let down, on the other he doesnt have to wear the heavy armor and get lanced, and he gets to be comfortable with his family and friends in the stands. Graham walks in at the side of his consort Cathrynn holding her hand. "There should be some interesting matches, and no need to fret over me this time." he smiles to her as they will join in the stands beside Emilia. "Emilia, have you been dancing within the rain again?" he asks a chuckle given after "Would you like my cloak?" he asks to keep warm or dry off whichever.

Lorelei's been out here since the beginning and now, still standing, she's rain-soaked and looking a little chilly. Clutched in her hand is a small, red-and-black banner as she open shows her support for House t'Maren. When Jonathan takes his place up opposite Leander she grins, happy to see things are finally going to begin.

Aidric reclines in his chair a wine cup in his hand. "This is already more tolerable than riding," he replies to Tristan. "Don't know what overcame me to take part in the first place." The mention ofplans earns a raised eyebrow and a glance towards where the Chancellor sits. "Some, why? What did you have in mind?"

There's an umbrella being held by a very damp underling over the glorious head of Miranda Giraldi. She's sitting on a fresh, dry blanket and looking a little disappointed it's so wet, even with her boys both hoping to fare well this time around.

Lucas nods to Evelyn as he stands wrapped in a oil skin cloak against the wet. "A good spot," he agrees. "Which do you want to watch?" he asks leaning against the corner of the rail, arms folded.

Thaddeus is dressed in finery befitting the situation, but is still less than pleased. He turns and says to Aidric, "Eh, could be worse." He frowns and takes a drink. "But hopefully this turns out well enough."

Cathrynn nods up at Graham, "Well I know you'd rather be down there," she says then smiles. She looks to Emilia and then inclines her head gently, "M'lady," she says and then looks to the lists. "I did not see who will be in the final round.." she says. Her manner of dress is different today, perhaps due to the rain, her gown is darker in color and a more weather sturdy fabric, simple, classy.

<COMBAT> Michael attacks Alexandra with Tourney Lance - ARMOR on Chest stops the attack!

<COMBAT> Alexandra attacks Michael with Tourney Lance but Michael DODGES!

<COMBAT> Raimond attacks Elrick with Tourney Lance - Moderate wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).

<COMBAT> Leander attacks Jonathan with Tourney Lance - ARMOR on Left Arm stops the attack!

<COMBAT> Elrick attacks Raimond with Tourney Lance but Raimond DODGES!

<COMBAT> Jonathan attacks Leander with Tourney Lance - Moderate wound to Neck.

<COMBAT> Michael attacks Alexandra with Tourney Lance - Light wound to Right Arm.

<COMBAT> Leander attacks Jonathan with Tourney Lance but Jonathan DODGES!

<COMBAT> Elrick attacks Raimond with Tourney Lance but Raimond DODGES!

<COMBAT> Alexandra attacks Michael with Tourney Lance but Michael DODGES!

<COMBAT> Raimond attacks Elrick with Tourney Lance - Critical wound to Chest.

<COMBAT> Jonathan attacks Leander with Tourney Lance but Leander DODGES!

<COMBAT> Raimond attacks Elrick with Tourney Lance - ARMOR on Chest stops the attack!

<COMBAT> Michael attacks Alexandra with Tourney Lance - Serious wound to Left Arm.

<COMBAT> Leander attacks Jonathan with Tourney Lance - ARMOR on Chest stops the attack!

<COMBAT> Elrick attacks Raimond with Tourney Lance but Raimond DODGES!

<COMBAT> Alexandra attacks Michael with Tourney Lance but Michael DODGES!

<COMBAT> Jonathan attacks Leander with Tourney Lance - ARMOR on Abdomen stops the attack!

<COMBAT> Alexandra has been KO'd!

On this day, Gastogne watches up from the crowd, sipping and enjoying the melee then, resting his hands and scanning and looking at the final tournament brackets.

Whether it is a change of the terrain now that the grounds are a bit muddier or something else but Elrick's first tilt of the day went nowhere as good as it went five days ago. Once more, the elder Giraldi Knight overmatches the t'Tremaine, a solid blow in the first exchange while the second one landing a brutal, lance shattering hit on the chest. It is a wonder that Elrick was able to hang on and not fall off but it was a close thing. It is clear that in the third pass, the Couviere knight is still stunned but he remains mounted, despite the loss.

Emilia glances over to Graham and Cathrynn when they join her, inclinging her head to both. "How can you be of telling?" Certainly it wasn't the semi-drowned rat look going on. She shakes her head, a hand waving off his offer,"I am of fine, you can be of keeping of your cloak." The Cassomir dressed in her typical Huntress garb. Turning her attention along towards the matches as they get underway. A bit of clapping done, in her more usual stoic fashion with not knowing those who ride particularly well. Though certainly seeming to be supporting the Rivana Knights.

"Correspond with Her Majesty and see what preliminary negotiations we can begin hammering out. There are a few points I would like to try to weasel into the peace agreement if I can." Tristan sips from his wine and then looks at how things progress on the field. "Ah, it seems on Giraldi is guaranteed a spot in the final bout. The other.. not so much. Still, at least it will not be 2 Knights of Couviere fighting themselves in this event." This brings a smile to his lips.

Three passes….and Leander ends up on the losing end of them. There is disappointment within him….to have gone so far only to come up just a little short. Nevertheless, he rides over to Jonathan, and offers a gracious retort. "Fine listing today, good Sir. I find myself just out of reach. Good luck for the remainder of the event." If Jon ends up before Raimond again, he is going to need it. With that, Leander rides off the field.

"The Giraldi's, of course," Evelyn says, simply, concisely to Lucas. She folds her arms, pulls her own luxurious oil-skin cloak about herself. "I'm interested in how well they do." She glances meaningfully at Lucas, as if they'd discussed such before, or he knew more of what she meant than what she said. She then looks back to the field. And, as Raimond scores a vicious hit against Elrick, she shakes her head some. "Sir Elrick was the jousting winner from Venderos last season," she mentions to Lucas, casually. "He is formidable competition."

Michael handily defeats Alexandra in their three passes, sending her into the mud with his final well placed strike to her shield. Michael rides on pass letting the broken lance drop from his hand and then waves to the crowd as he makes his way back to his pavillion. When he gets there, he glance back at the woman picking herself up out of the mud. He taps one of his men on the shoulder, "Let her no I don't expect a ransom," he says before he dismounts to prepare for his bout against Sir Jonathan.

When that bout is called Michael has stretched and rested some and salutes the t'Maren heir with a dip of his lance, then sets about charging down the list, set on repeating his good showing.

Alexandra curses not so much her loss but inability to strike Michael before she had been unhorsed. Still, she bows to the box before withdrawing to her pavillion, sending word back to Michael with her thanks.

Blast this rain. He takes the first hit from Leander Giraldi after riding hard in the sticky, squelching mud, sliding in the next two passes. Fortunately for him, it seems, the weather is a handicap for them all; Leander misses on his last two rides, too, and Jon's hit was harder than his opponent's. Nodding respectfully, he raises his lance in salute. "A fine showing, Sir," he compliments before riding off for the next round.

"Pinning our hopes on a Giraldi? I know not if I want him to win or lose," Thaddeus snorts. He relaxes and raises a brow, "What do you have in mind for the negotiations?" He asks Tristan, "Hopefully nothing too devious."

"Of course I would Cat." Graham says looking over about still competing. He squeezes her hand "This is good though." He is silent while the jousts take place before lookng over to his cousin and nodding "I wouldnt say drowned rat.. perhaps mouse.. more cute?" he teases lightly but will nod about his cloak and does retain it. He will clap for the passes that take place watching everyone.

It seems Vengeance is not to be Elrick's this day. Raimond surges forward, and while the first strike is only a light blow, he avoids Elrick's lance altogether. The next blow that lands causes another spectacularly shattered lance against Elrick's chest, but the t'Tremaine remains in the saddle, and the third pass is utterly inconclusive, leaving Raimond the victor on points. "Well jousted, Sir. Perhaps we'll yet have one more opportunity for a rematch." And then he's off to the sidelines, only to look mildly crestfallen when he realizes Leander has not advanced. Ah, he was so hoping to meet him in the finals.

"You did well, Leander." Raimond reassures his brother, giving him a warm smile, before turning his attention to the next matchup.

"I know, but which Giraldi-" too late the joust has begun and he turns to watch them both, the younger one, Leander was defeated, but Raimond won, and beat Elrick to boot. "Yes, he was, did you see anything amiss?" he asks her.

Miranda can hear her name mentioned over and over, but that's nothing new. She's used to her family, or more specifically her, being the topic of conversation. So when Leander loses his match and Raimond wins his, it doesn't shock her that she can hear more whispering and sees people around her look over their shoulders in her direction. She called out a 'well struck' to Leander, knowing he likely can't hear her, but hoping it'll show support, at any rate.

<COMBAT> Michael attacks Jonathan with Tourney Lance - ARMOR on Right Leg stops the attack!

<COMBAT> Jonathan attacks Michael with Tourney Lance - Moderate wound to Chest.

<COMBAT> Michael attacks Jonathan with Tourney Lance but Jonathan DODGES!

<COMBAT> Jonathan attacks Michael with Tourney Lance but Michael DODGES!

<COMBAT> Michael attacks Jonathan with Tourney Lance - Moderate wound to Head (Reduced by Armor).

<COMBAT> Jonathan attacks Michael with Tourney Lance but Michael DODGES!

<COMBAT> Michael attacks Jonathan with Tourney Lance - Moderate wound to Neck (Reduced by Armor).

<COMBAT> Jonathan attacks Michael with Tourney Lance but Michael DODGES!

"Not my hopes," Aidric says of the Giraldi. "Anyhow, I am game for whatever it is you have in mind, Tris," he agrees readily.

"Oh, some economic issues. Mostly it would be nice if we could get the Durante's to handle the banking needs of Couviere. Financial ties would go a long way to securing a long and lasting peace. Do you not agree?" Tristan's eyes look over the field, taking in the next bout as he sips his wine.

With another match going before Elrick is called up again, this momentary break is a boon for the t'Tremaine as he has to have his squire help him remove his armor so it can be readjusted for a better fit, having been knocked ajar. The northern knight certainly does not looked pleased with how that tilt went but his gaze goes to the current competitors, both tough opponents to be sure. A close bout between the two, Elrick sees that he has best prepare for his turn in the semi-finals as he climbs up on his mount. However, he waits where he is for now, waiting for the announcement to come.

Eyebrows rise a little with a sidelong glance towards Graham,"Of mouse? Naois would be eatting of a mouse." Shaking her head a moment before looking to see as the this next match. Continuing to watch the finals on with stoically interest and clapping at this or that turn.

"Money does seem to accomplish many things," Thaddeus remarks, having lost interest in the joust for now, "That would be an interesting situation to deal with. Would northern houses take Rivanan gold for loans? It would certainly be a mess and the Pacittans will not be pleased by it."

"No," Evelyn is quick to respond back to Lucas, shaking her head. She shifts in her stance some, "Nothing amiss that I could see." Yet, her eyes don't leave the field. Not even to glance to Lucas, whom she is close friends with.

Four passes down the muddy field decide the match between Michael and Jonathan. "Damn, but that was close," Michael breathes as he just barely takes the win. He rounds his horse and seeks out his foe, lifting his visor, "Well fought, sir," and he extends a hand to the man.

After he's rested and the next match is called Michael stands across the field from his cousin, a smile on his face. "Well now this should be interesting," he says before lowering his visor, making his salutes, and readiying for the charge.

Aidric takes a moment to consider it. "It could work," he agrees. "I can't think of a Couvieri banking house," he says. "Though, as Thad says, pride may be an issue."

Well, that's it then. Michael, like all the rest, is saluted before Jonathan puts his helmet back on, and it looks like he's getting the better of the l'Corren knight before the mud interferes again and he takes a hit on the last pass. Tied, they run again, and the tip of Jon's lance slides off Michael's armor in the slick, humid weather. "A pleasure," the t'Maren knight is able to concede, raising his lance again before leaving the field for good to watch the remainder of the match.

When he is called to come forth to the tilt, Elrick nudges his steed, trotting to his side of the tilt and flashes his cousin a grin, "Will most definitely be a good one, cousin. Whoever wins though, knock that Giraldi off his horse, yeah?" This competitive pair appears to be good natured. The t'Tremaine then offers the proper bows and salutes, and a final one to Michael before he slides his visor down, ready to charge.

<COMBAT> Michael attacks Elrick with Tourney Lance - Light wound to Left Arm (Reduced by Armor).

<COMBAT> Elrick attacks Michael with Tourney Lance but Michael DODGES!

<COMBAT> Michael attacks Elrick with Tourney Lance - Light wound to Abdomen (Reduced by Armor).

<COMBAT> Elrick attacks Michael with Tourney Lance but Michael DODGES!

<COMBAT> Michael attacks Elrick with Tourney Lance - Light wound to Left Arm (Reduced by Armor).

<COMBAT> Elrick attacks Michael with Tourney Lance - Moderate wound to Left Arm (Reduced by Armor).

Gastogne watches as the finals go on, the exchanges hard, fast, and furious as only the most powerful, skilled, or luckiest remain at this moment.

"Nor did I," Lucas says, with a frown. But then he isn't a knight. When Evelyn keeps her eyes on the field he leans against the rail and rubs his chin, thinking.

Despite a solid strike on the last exchange, Elrick knows he loses and is out after slowing to a stop on the other end of the tilt. Pulling his helm off, he releases a disappointed sigh but after turning his steed around, he salutes Michael and his victory, "Bring back the victory, cousin!" He calls out before heading off to the side. So close, yet so far, for the t'Tremaine Heir.

Cathrynn grins at the exchange between Emilia and Graham then she looks to the lists to watch, her dark eyes following one rider or another, oohing and eeking at the proper times when someone smashes a lance or gets smashed with one.

"Fuck the Pacittans." Tristan mutters under his breath, in a more clear voice, he says, "Depends. Gold is gold, who really cares where it was minted, it all spends the same. I am not sure what the full situation is in Couviere in regards to banking, but I believe that House Durante has a name that anyone can have faith in. Hell, look at their actions during the Succession War for proof of how true they are to what they view as their duties." The two Couvieri go at it and one is victorious. Minutes pass and then the final. "Ah, let us see if the Giraldi can beat the l'Corren. This is almost amusing."

Evelyn watches, now, the match between Elrick and Michael, nodding with some satisfaction as the two square off, and it's a close bout, but the l'Corren knight takes it. "Now let us see if Sir Michael, who led us to victories against the threat of the Barbarians can best this man. Well fought, Sir Elrick." Of course, Elrick can't hear her, but her praise is genuine enough in it's sentiment. Again, her features go grim. Intent, as she watches the final tilts.

Leander may be done for the rest of the event…but he hasn't left. Nor has he bothered to take the armor off. He has been watching the entire time, his dark eyes intent on the field. The two rounds after his were noted….but it is the next round that he has truly waited for. l'Corren versus Giraldi. Michael versus Raimond. A shout rises up from Leander's throat. "Ride strong, brother!"

Michael and Elrick go three passes before Michael edges out his cousin for the victory. He nods "I will," he promises before he rides off to take some time before his next match. When it's time though, he mounts his horse eagerly, and snatches up his lance to meet his foe. "We comes down to us again, eh?" he remarks. "Well we'll try to give the people a couple of good shows." Then it's time for the fight to begin…

Raimond Giraldi moves to the starting line, chuckling as Michael greets him, "If I did not know better, I would think that the One intends for some kind of rivalry here, Sir Michael. But yes, let us see if we can give them a good show, eh?" He salutes, and moves to the starting line, taking a deep breath, and then taking up his lance and preparing for the contest to begin. Will it be the last? Or will he face the l'Corren a third time in this joust?

Still under her umbrella, the Giraldi matriarch keeps her dark eyes glued to the matches. Jittery with glee, Miranda watches. She's not saying a word, trying hard not to move, and hoping upon hope that this turns out the way she wants it to.

"True," Aidric remarks. "We'll need to spread word of their deeds to the north though. Some coin for some bards and we can fix that easily enough. Old Sir Ray left his share of songs to sing," he says.

Lucas nods moving beside Evelyn now at the rail. The final tilts about to begin. "Alright," he says simply, eyes on the competitors.

<COMBAT> Raimond attacks Michael with Tourney Lance and MISSES!

<COMBAT> Raimond attacks Michael with Tourney Lance but Michael DODGES!

<COMBAT> Michael attacks Raimond with Tourney Lance but Raimond DODGES!

<COMBAT> Raimond attacks Michael with Tourney Lance - Moderate wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).

<COMBAT> Michael attacks Raimond with Tourney Lance and MISSES!

<COMBAT> Michael attacks Raimond with Tourney Lance - Light wound to Neck (Reduced by Armor).

<COMBAT> Raimond attacks Michael with Tourney Lance - Critical wound to Head (Reduced by Armor).

<COMBAT> Michael has been KO'd!

Graham chuckles a little "I do not think he would eat you. You are his friend." The Lily knight says to his cousin though he is looking back to the lists taking place not wishing to miss anything important in the passes. He looks back to Cathrynn leaning to kiss her cheek. He does seem to be sticking even closer to her than even his usual. He will clap with the results of the passes which have taken place. "I admit that I still look forward to going home and being there for a little while."

"Indeed, Old Sir Ray deserves to be immortalized in song and story," Thaddeus nods, and would say more, but the final joust begins. Upon seeing the result he raises his cup, "Well, it could be worse."

Gastogne lets out a chee then over at the last exchange then, otherwise still wincing over at the heavy blows that go out then as he just rises from his seat to applaud at the KO!

There might have been silence in the arena as the three passes are taken. But….that silence is shattered as the l'Corren flies off his horse into the muddy field. A fist flies up into the air from the sidelines as Leander shouts out. "Giraldi!!" You would think he was out on the field, rather than his brother. Still…a fine day for Rivana…and for the Giraldis.

Evelyn's reaction is odd, to say the least. She watches the tilts, the scoring. The victory. And then, wordlessly she turns, and begins to exit the stands while celebrations and talking about the finals are still going on. She doesn't even ask Lucas to follow, though she expects he may.

Michael gets the better of the first pass, then the worst of the second and in the third… his head is snapped back by the impact of the lance and he is thrown from the saddle into the mud. He lays there a moment laughing, watching the rain fall before he sits up. Showing the crowd he wasn't dead. He stands, his pristine tabbard splattered in mud and a bit of blood. Still, Michael is unhindered, he bows to the viewing box, though his legs wobble as he does. Damn. He hit like a hammerblow he thinks as he looks about for Raimond to give the man his due.

And so it ends. The first pass ends inconclusively for them both, as neither scores a hit. The second, Raimond tries not to get too eager when his lance scores a strike against Michael's chest. On the last….the last seems to be when both their lances tilt high, and while Raimond's gorget is scored by the l'Corren knight's lance, his own once again shatters spectacularly, catching the helm of the heir of Murnord and…sending him right off of his horse. He turns about, to make sure that the man rises, because it would be excessively inconvenient for permanent harm to come to the man, and unlike certain other Northern Knights, this fellow seems a decent enough sort. From a very powerful house. When Michael rises, he looks relieved, and salutes him, "I suspect if the One's sense of humor holds, we will face each other again." He dismounts and moves over to offer a hand towards Michael, "The honor has been mine, Sir Michael l'Corren."

Lucas does follow. Frowning. It was a strange end to a joust, but then the tourney had been full of strangeness, still he moves swiftly to keep up, it was worth seeing if Evelyn's suspicions were correct.

There may actually be tears brimming and threatening to tumble out of Miranda's eyes and down her smooth cheeks when Raimond's lance strikes true. She'd been on the edge of her seat for the first two hits, but when her baby hammers the future Duke of Murnord off his horse she's bursting with glee. Her cheer is wordless as she shoots up out of her seat, nearly knocking the squire with the umbrella over in the process. Applauding heartily she beams, nodding her head in acceptance and praise for her victorious son.

Michael nods but when he tries to lift his helm he finds the visor jammed. He laughs again, "Seems he does sir," he remarks to Raimond. "Go enjoy your victory, I need to find a smith," then with help of his men makes his way from the field.

Gastogne applauds to Raimond up and over from the stands. A well fought battle as far as he is concerned!

If he had to be eliminated, Jonathan's pleased to say it was by one of these two formidable knights. The stands are erupting, fluctuating as people rise and leave and others stay and cheer, but Jon's still down with his horse off to the side of the track. He winces when he hears the lance splinter on Michael's helmet but claps for the pair of them as their competition finishes. He's polite, after all, and likes to show it.

Aidric's applause for Raimond is tepid at best. "A Giraldi won, joy," he says with affected boredom. He downs his wine, and pours himself a fresh cup. "Drink up," he urges Thad and Tris. "Best not to be sober for the rest of the day."

Raimond inclines his head to Michael, and then bows towards the stands himself, the boxes, and then the audience, and then he blows a kiss to his mother, flashing his brilliant smile from ear-to-ear as he moves off the field to (mostly) the cheers of the crowd…at least the common folk and Merchants, whom actually have some respect for the Giraldis as having risen to the nobility from their ranks. Of course, he soon finds his brother, wrapping him in a bearhug, and laughing, "Come on, Brother, we've celebrating to do." He laughs, "Though perhaps not quite too much. There's still the Ball tomorrow."

"I will not mind being home for a time," Cathrynn agrees to Graham as things draw to a close. She applauds and then smiles up at Graham, "Well, at least no one had to be carried off," she says.

Leander accepts the bear hug and offers a nod. "Yes…much celebrating is to be had. And I wouldn't worry about the Ball. We can just work that in as part of our celebration. Really…it will be rather easy." Then, Leander gives a laugh and slap on the shoulder. "let's get started on that."

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