(1867-02-28) Venderos Tourney: Opening Parade
Log Title
Summary: Venderos Tourney: Opening Parade
Date: 02-28-1867
Related: Venderos Tourney logs
Players:
Alina  Antonia  Alexandra  Clara  Clarke  Emilia  Gabriel  Tristan  Jonathan  Lucas  Michael  Lydia  Raimond  Darren  Leander  Lucius  Elaida  Liam  Samuel  Malcolm  

Tourney Grounds - Venderos

The tournament grounds stand ready for use at a moment's notice. The stands are setup with the nobles sitting in the center, with the absolute best seats of course reserved for the royals and their guests. 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 royals 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 nobles to sit upon. Among the rows are those who are bringing beverage and refreshments. To discourage any unsavory elements within the stands, armed guards are stationed every ten feet. This visible reminder lends an air of discipline to the arena grounds.

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. Yet, the dirt remains only within the center, as the pavilions, benches and even the rails seem free of dust…a nearly impossible task made possible. 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.

28th of Fevrier, 1867

Excitement is within the air as the tournament grounds of Venderos fill with spectators and knights alike for the opening event of the tournament, the parade. Still, the excitement is tempered with caution. For, it seems that the events of the last tournament within Venderos have not left the hearts and minds of its citizens…most notably Prince Lucius Callidus, who can be seen sitting within the Royal box. Rumour has it that it was upon his order that there would be no surprises with this tournament and the order has been taken to heart. For one, there is an increased presence of guards about…even for the parade itself, with a guard no further than 15 feet apart from another. This lends a more somber air to the usually more festive crowd, but no one seems to be complaining. In addition, there seems to be a definite lack of ‘mystery knights’ with this tournament, normally a welcomed addition. Each and every knight has been identified and accounted for. There will be no subterfuge this year.

The tournament grounds are exquisite, as would be expected from the principality of Venderos. The spectator stands, apart from the increased guard presence, are decorated for the tournament. As such, all the banners for the knights within the tournament are present, flying high above the crowd. The Royal box is adorned with the familiar crimson and gold of House Callidus, with the Prince resting rather comfortably in his place of prominence, conversing politely with his chosen guests, invited specifically to sit with him for this opening event. Despite the increased guard, or perhaps because of it, Prince Lucius seems well at ease, with a pleasant expression as he converses with his immediate company before the parade is set to start.

Seated in the nobility section, the princess Clara Tracano looks quite at ease, for once. It could be the fact that she isn’t sitting in a royal box off to herself, or it could be that she isn’t running this particular show. In any case, she sits calmly, seemingly in good spirits, even if her usual Lancer shadows are nearby. In fact, Sir Alaina Cassomir is seated besides Clara…the usually stoic Lancer actually smiling for once. “Keep doing that and your face will stay that way, you know.” Clara giggles as she pokes Alaina in the ribs…lightly. “Figured sitting here would be more enjoyable than standing.”

Far from the stands, the younger of the two Giraldi brothers, Leander, preps for his ride. His feline companion Fritti is not far away, taking her usual spot upon the bench they have selected. With a grin, Leander murmurs softly to the catlord. “Keep the seat warm for me, Fritti. I will be back soon enough.”

Seated among the Couvieri nobility is Lucas l'Saigner. The youngest son of Duke James is dressed in finery befitting his rank, today that finery is a black velvet doublet studded with amethysts in the shape of crescent moons. Despite the quality of his garments, or perhaps because of them, the young man seems ill at ease as he sits waiting for the parade to begin, not far from his sister.

The elder Giraldi brother is already astride his warhorse, clad in his splendid and nearly-pristine suit of full plate, obviously quite highly polished by his dutiful squire for the occasion, though for the moment his helmet is not yet in place, instead tucked on his arm as Raimond glances towards Leander and chuckles, "You going before or after me this time?" He glances a short distance away, to where Duke Darren Haldis is finishing up his own preparations, "Though I suppose we'd best wait for our dear brother to precede us." Though the tone is sardonic at the last, there's no venom in it. He briefly scans the crowds, and offers a wave towards his younger sister.

Michael l'Corren, son-in-law to Prince Lucius and contender for last year's circuit champion, sits astride a splendid Alhazred charger, with his armor polished close to a mirror shine, gleaming, except where covered by his tabard of snowy white and deep chilly blue of the House l'Corren. The house colours are repeated on his shield, rimmed in gold as befits the heir, and on the barding of his steed, all of it spotless for the coming event. As he waits, he adds another bit of cloth to his ensemble, this one, of very different colours, a strip red and gold cloth with black lace edging, a garter, given to him by his wife, Prince Lucius' daughter.

Gabriel l'Saigner is seated near Lucas, Alina at his side. True to his word, he was not going to participate in the circuit at all this year save a few possible events, depending on what the prizes were. He glances over and gives Alina a warm little smile and squeezes her hand. "It will be interesting to see who wins, yes?"

Seated somewhere else with a much better view of everything is Prince Tristan Tracano and his betrothed, Lady Elaida Toulan. Tristan would have skipped going to this tournament, but Elaida had mentioned that she had never been to Venderos and so how could he possibly deny her the chance to come and see it all. Besides, a little time away from Sunsreach could be good for them both.

On the field by the Haldis tent, young Lord Liam Haldis makes his final preparations to his own mount to ride in the procession. He would not be participating in many events, but the ones he would he looks forward to testing his mettle against the older, proven knights. He gives Lord Raimond a polite smile as he talks to his cousin the Duke.

A small incline of Emilia's head is given towards Lucas as she moves to find a seat herself amongst the nobility turned out. Actually wearing a dress befitting a young noble, perhaps so not to be actively mistaken for one of the Huntresses that accompany her, and thusly directed to other seating. Settling near Clara and her cousin,"One does not stand of out so of much when of sitting, Your of Highness."

Lydia waves from the crowds to her brothers whom get to march in the parade. "Raimond! Leander!" she calls as she waves her fingers and a small flag in her hand. She moves it this way and that as she tries to support her family happy to see them within the ranks. The young lady just enjoying herself for the moment.

Sidesaddle is for losers. Thus, no such riding position is assumed by the eldest t'Artan daughter. Atop her palomino stallion, Alexandra looks around with palpable glee. She's dressed in the crimson and black of her house, her long auburn hair braided into a single plait that hangs down her back. It seems, by how frequently she's turning her head, that she's looking for someone. When she finds him, she urges the horse forward - all the better to accompany you, my dear. Looking sidelong, then, at the t'Maren knight, Alexandra grins mirthfully. "A pleasure to see you again, even if it is as an opponent, Sir Jonathan." She looks as if she's caught a younger sibling with a hand in the cookie jar, given the smugness of her expression.

Alina l'Saigner squeezes Gabriel's hand back. "I'm glad you're up here with me instead of down there this time," she admits. "Though I can still give you healoil massages as is our little tradition during tourneys… even if you don't need them," she winks and kisses his cheek.

Leander chuckles softly, offering a smile and a simple answer. "Age before beauty, good brother. Let our Duke go before us. I can only hope to follow what fine examples he and you will present to me." There is a wry little smile as he speaks. Lydia is seen, but probably not heard…but is still given a wave of a hand, all the same.

Duke Darren Haldis' full plate has clearly seen a lot of use, but also clearly has been well cared-for despite that heavy use. The dark grey, unadorned metal bears all the wear of having had plenty of dents hammered out and scoring polished away, giving it a burnished appearance that does not perhaps shine so brightly as many of the other knights here, but stands out all the more for it. "Pity Jaren couldn't make it. But I suppose we won't be seeing him in many tourneys from here on out. If any." Darren notes to Liam, having hoped he'd one day get a chance to test himself against the Queen's Champion a second time. Especially with the Duels having been instituted by the Circuit in the past couple of years. Ah well. The Duke of Eastfield bears no favor, and climbs atop his own Haldis Charger. The spirited animal fidgets a bit, but a bit of pressure from the knees, and on the reins brings it back under control quite readily. "Ah well…time to go be pompous."

Elaida peers around excitedly. It is her first trip to Venderos and everything is so new and interesting. "Thank you, my handsome prince," she murmurs to her betrothed—husband in but a few weeks time. "I am glad to get away from wedding preparations even for a little while."

Present as well among those who will be taking part in the parade, Sir Samuel l'Corren offers a grin to his cousin. "You'll do well," he offers lightly to Michael, as he looks around at the others. "Quite a field of competitors this time."

In the stands, seated where he can watch the proceedings a bit carefully, the grandson of Baron Howlett is watching the participants, while every now and then looking to the rest of the people in the stands. Malcolm is looking relaxed as he leans back in his seat, nodding to those he knows of the people present.

After a few minutes have passed and the knights start to assemble in some sort of order, a lone figure emerges from the crowd. From all appearances, he seems to be of the Venderos court, bedecked in the gold and red of the royal house. As this personage reaches the front of the stands, it would seem apparent that he is some sort of announcer, ready to signal the start of the festivities. However, he does not choose to use a stage, but instead leaps onto the rail between the field and the crowd, much to the chagrin of the guard and amazement of the peasantry (and perhaps nobility as well). With a bow, the slender brown-haired gentleman speaks, in a clear (and loud) voice.

“Lords! Ladies! Good people of Venderos! On behalf of our most gracious Prince Lucius Callidus, I welcome you all to the Venderos Circuit Tournament of 1867!” There is only a moment’s pause given, as the agile man raises to his full height and walks from one post to another. “With the new season upon us, it is only fit that our competitors should start on neutral ground, since, for now, all are equal. When it comes to the participants located over in yon field, each one stands at the same level as the other. But…not for long! For tomorrow, the testing of valor truly starts. As for now, let us welcome our brave souls willing to test their mettle. Ladies and gentle lords, I present to you…your competitors for this, the opening tournament of the season!”

With that, the announcer thrusts his hand out towards the field of knights and offers another low bow, while the other hand holds onto a post for balance. It is their cue to ride forth, in whatever order they may want, across the field of battle. They will ride and pause, as they always do, to announce their name and whatever accolades they wish to boast to the gathered crowds and provide suitable greetings to the rulers of the land before making their way off the field. And…as the knights start to make their way forth, the boisterous lithe fellow, his moment complete, disappears back into the crowd from whence he came.

Jonathan t'Maren, likely one of very few representatives from Lonnaire - if not the only one, given that Sir Gabriel is here as a spectator - is here, of course, dressed in half plate, astride his deep brown charger, his shield marked with the black and red of his House. Insofar as it's possible for a fairly large man atop a large horse and covered in loud, clanking metal plates to blend in, he blends in as best he can, surrounded by the other participants, until one in particular manages to sidle up to him. Damn. "Likewise, Sir Alexandra," the heir to Bloodfield half-says, half-stammers out, his lips pressing together and pushing upward into a half-smile that's at least half-forced. There's a bit of grey in his beard and in his hair, normally not enough to attract notice, but the lines in his face shift just so, and he looks, for a moment, rather like an old man in a young one's body.

Gabriel gives Alina a small nod. "Perhaps, I may be rather sore firing my hand cannons in a few days time… or perhaps sitting in these seats and watching all of this happen will cause my backside to get rather sore. Who can say." He quiets when people begin to make their entrances.

"That is the idea, Emilia." Clara offers a bright smile as she leans forward, looking out over to the field. "Sitting down provides less of a target. Surely a Huntress knows the value of a decreased profile." There is a wink to Emilia, as even Alaina manages a slight grin, while Clara settles in. "I think, for this time, I want to present as low of a profile as possible. We surely deserve it, I would think."

Darren Haldis rides out after donning his helm and lifting its' visor, in accordance with the host's wishes, moving before the stands and offering a salute towards Prince Lucius with the magnificent sidhe-steel bastard sword that is his birthright, pulled from a scabbard that hangs from his saddle. The blade is lowered, and Darren calls out in a voice that's quite good for carrying over the din of battle or of large crowds, "I am Darren Haldis, Duke of Eastfield and son of the Archduke Bryar Haldis. It was I who drew my house to the cause of the true Queen of Rivana. It was I that captured the traitor Anton Tracano and saw him brought to the Queen's justice. I was first into battle at Blackstone, and it was my hand that finally ended the Butcher of Carsonne. I fight for the honor of my House, and the glory of the Duchy I rule." The briefest of pauses before Darren grins slightly, "And because this tournament has the most excellent prizes." That likely earns a chuckle from at least part of the crowd, and takes the edge off his "mandatory boasting" before he salutes once more (once acknowledged by the Prince), and draws his Charger off towards the opposite side of the field at a light trot.

Tristan leans over and kisses Elaida's cheek gently. "I am very handsome, you are right. I suppose that means you are a rather lucky woman, does it not? I do hope you enjoy it all though, I think the event with the hand cannons should be a little interesting. Loud… but interesting."

Dark eyes are drifting over the crowd and surrounding area a fair bit as it was a first trip to Venderos for Emilia as well, though with that stoic mien it was hard to tell just what she thought of anything. Upon spying a few familiar faces amongst the Rivanan, there was a small turn of a wave towards Lydia, an incline of her head towards Tristan. Nodding a touch towards Clara,"I am of knowing. And I am of thinking a low of profile can be of made." There is a beat before she adds,"For most of it." A small tugging occurring at the corners of her lips at the announcer and his mild turn of antics. Though Emilia is soon looking towards the many plate wearing knights, trying to find her brother and the other brother's squire amongst all the shiney.

Lydia moves into the stands, to sit and watch the parade, she smiles softly to those in the stands and she moves to place herself near her handmaiden. Her eyes on those that are out there below, she claps politely for the Prince a large grin dancing in her eyes as she listens to the crowd around her

Favour tied to his arm, Michael looks up and gives his cousin a smile. "I hope to," he says of doing well as he rises in his stirrups to survey the field. "Though it promises to be a challenging tourney," he says before his attention turns back to his cousin. "I trust you're planning to do well also?" After all why come so far only to do so-so.

Whatever his cousin's reply when Michael's name is called, Samuel gets a clap on the shoulder then, Michael rides forth, his nimble footed charger stepping high and fast with the grace only an Alhazred steed can provide. He brings his horse to a halt, letting him rear before the royal box before it comes down and he makes his bow, favouring his father-in-law with a smile, one that is directed soon after to Bella, Michael's wife, sitting at Lucius' side. "Prince Lucius, I come to fight on behalf of your daughter Bella, my wife, and for the honour of house l'Corren. I pray my performance will honour both and favour this crowd with a show they shall not soon forget!" with that said, the future duke of Murnord bows, blows his wife a kiss, then rides off, to the cheers of the crowd, at least so he hopes. Once off the field he turns his horse, watching the other competitors and waiting in particular for Samuel's turn.

Lucas returns Emilia's nod, before settling back in his seat and looking to his brother-in-law, "Do you miss it?" he asks Gabriel. He waves his hand out at the field, to all that shiny armor and boasting. "All of that."

Alina inclines her head onto Gabriel's shoulder for a few moments, but then the parading begins and she sits up straight, one hand on her very large stomach, heavy with the later days of her pregnancy. She leans forward a little to watch those who ride forth.

Elaida giggles and blushes. "I suppose I am lucky," she murmurs. "Are you going to participate in the archery, dearest?"

On the field, young Lord Liam rides forward when his name is called. "I am Squire Liam Haldis, squire to the King of Rivana, his Majesty King Jaren Tracano. I have no great deeds to my name, but I will fight well in this tournament to honor the teachings of my knight and King." He bows in his saddle to the Prince and moves down the field for the next competitor.

Riding a light, tanned stallion wearing warmed leather armor, Clarke t'Cauthone salutes the stands, "I have the honor of defending my King Jean-Paul and my service and duty is to him. I have served at his side in the Blue Chevaliers and in relieving the siege of Valetta and in the Battle of the Three Armies. It has been my honor and my duty to serve my king, and to continue to do so." Saluting once more, he continues on to let the next knight take their turn.

Next is a female knight clad in an armor of dark steel, polished and well kept; the helmet she wears is shaped in the way of a falcon's head, the beak worked into the visor which is raised at the moment, to allow a glimpse at a comely face of a woman of about thirty. When it is her turn this female knight rides forth to present herself in a calm tone that shows both authority and confidence. "My name is Sir Antonia l'Valdan, Princess of Aequor. I am competing to bring honor to my family, King Jean-Paul and Queen Louisa of Couviere; to my beloved husband, Prince Silvio; and to our son, Etienne." Grey eyes flash with determination, as Antonia lowers her gaze and adds: "Also… To my father-in-law. Late King Maris l'Valdan." With that said, she rides back into the line, making room for the next.

Satisfied with Jonathan's greeting, Alexandra smirks again, scoffs, and, without further ado, spurs her mount forward. It's just about her turn to present herself, after all. Once before the Royal Box, the t'Artan Knight clicks her tongue, pulls on the reigns a bit, and before you know it, the horse himself is bowing. Rather proud of herself, Alexandra bows her upper half, the free arm outstretched, and when the pair of them rise again, she's grinning like mad. "I am Sir Alexandra t'Artan. I come in honor of the family l'Valdan, reigning over Couviere. I also come to honor my own family and house. As for my betrothed, I'll allow him to fight for his own honor, though you do me one by welcoming my competition here, your highness." There's another nod of her head before Alexandra takes the reigns of her horse in both hands again, urging him off to the side to allow Jonathan to follow.

Tristan considers Elaida's question for several moments. "I will if you want me to, I suppose it depends on who is participating. Why? Would you like a fancy crossbow to use?" It takes everything he has to ask that with a straight face.

Elaida squinches her face up for a moment. "Those look awfully heavy and really, I don't care much for violence."

"For the most part, indeed." Of course, there will be some standing out. At least, if Clara has anything to say about it. The herald to the parade earns a giggle from the princess, but she doesn't comment much more. Instead, she turns her attention to the field. She does have an interest, after all. Half of the field is Rivanan…and the other half she is related to.

Right, right. The showmanship. Jonathan's favorite part of any tourney. Better to get it over with now. And so, spurring his horse onward, he rides forth, his horse's gait simple, not at all plodding, but far from a display of great grace, either. Efficient. Purposeful. Jonathan himself, however? When he sees just who is going before him, and hears what she has to say, he's… well, given pause, a bit. It's a good thing there's a beast of burden below him to do the walking. "I am Sir Jonathan t'Maren," he addresses the Royal Box, his voice deep and clear. "I come to honor my father, Baron Louis t'Maren, my house, and our lord, Duke James l'Saigner." Off anyone else's lips, that last bit would be a joke - and likely it will be heard as such - but off Jonathan's, it's entirely serious. Surely, if nothing else, the Hawk of Lonnaire will be amused. There's no more before he turns his mount to carry on.

Emilia does clap for each of the knights, though she doe clap just that little bit more for Liam…because he's almost like an honorary brother…of sorts…in being Jaren's squire. Right? "We will of need to find of time to go of shopping, find of a few of dresses." That alone has a Huntress or two giving her a bit of a double take. "I promised Adrienne we would bring her back of one." More like threatened, but close enough!

Raimond gives Leander a little smirk, then dons his helmet and rides out, with a great deal more swagger than the rather dour knight that precedes him. He pauses before the royal box and his steed itself does the "bow" though Raimond mirrors the motion, careful to maintain his balance through the showy maneuver, "I am Sir Raimond Giraldi, heir to Watch Hill and Knight of Rivana. It has been my honor to fight for Rivana in the battles against those that would deny our rightful Queen, and to battle alongside warriors of all the lands of the Edge in the Great Raid of Pacitta and the Battle of Three Crowns. I compete for the honor and glory of my family, and that of the Duchy and Kingdom we proudly serve." And with that, Raimond moves off the field, heading in the same direction Darren travelled.

Waiting for his own time to do the introductions, Samuel finally nudges Miramis forward, the horse moving at a slow, measured pace until they have reached the place in front of the royal box, bowing his head respectfully. Waiting for a few moments longer, he raises his voice. "Sir Samuel l'Corren is my name. I have come here to compete for the glory of House l'Corren, the Kingdom we serve, and also for the sake of improving my skills, should I need to put them to use at the battlefield again to protect people." A brief pause as he looks to the stands, before he adds, "May the best Knight win." And with that, he makes his way off the field like the others.

Well, there is at least one other knight that is no stranger to showmanship. Two, if you count the elder Giraldi that just rode out. The younger Leander with his great black steed follows his brother's lead, showing that Raimond isn't the only horseman of the family. Leander remains stalward in the saddle as he and his mare both bow in unison, though he does make it a point to bow a little lower and hold the position just a little bit longer. "I am Sir Leander Giraldi, knight of Rivana. I have had the honor to also battle those that would challenge our beloved Queen and have stood fast combating the blight that had threatened my kingdom in recent memory. I compete for the honour of family, duchy and kingdom." With a slight grin, Leander also adds. "Glory will be acceptible, as well." With a kip of his heels, he takes his leave, moving to join both his brothers, full and half.

The mention of dresses does cause Clara an amused smirk. "Do my ears deceive me, or did you just say you wanted to go dress shopping?" A laugh escapes from Clara, which is quickly lost in the crowd. Clara herself leans over to Alaina. "You heard that, right? We're going dress shopping. All of us." A nod is given to Emilia. "Oh…so Adri wants a dress? That's easy. I will just find two dresses I like, buy them both, and then give her one. It will be simple."

More knights earn a bit more clapping from Emilia as each says their piece, some with that bit more showmanship and flare than others. A glance goes to Clara,"They are not deceiving of you, it was what I was of saying." A minor tugging at the corners of her lips,"I was not however of saying she wanted of one, but that I would be bringing her back of one." A nod coming,"Does seem to be that of simple of though." And thusly the matter is settled. A bit more clapping to go. And certainly when Devlin takes his turn in the parade, Emilia's clapping is a bit more energetic, and perhaps a mild wave along towards her brother.

"So, you spend a few months training me, supposedly to win the Circuit this year…and then you turn around and compete against me? I'm beginning to think I've been had." Raimond chides his elder half-brother as he catches up, grinning wryly towards him as he pulls his own charger alongside his.

Darren laughs unabashedly, and retorts, "Only by that Alhazredi girl you've taken up with. I just want the Horse." Darren gives the honest answer first, and returns the chiding to his younger half-brother, "But if it makes you feel any better, likely I won't be taking part in any of the other tourneys this year, so after I finish beating you here you can spend the rest of the year catching up." Darren grins, "Oh wait, I meant to say that I just wanted to test how well you'd learned your lessons myself. Yes, that's it." He nods mock-sagely, barely keeping a straight face.

Raimond simply rolls his eyes and notes, "I can assure you she's certainly a woman, not a girl." Though he follows it with a shake of his head and a rueful expression, "Well, don't think I'm going to go easy on you just because you're my liege."

Darren scoffs at the thought, "I'd beat your ass twice as hard if I thought you were. Now come on…let's go hope and pray that the drinks are good at at least one of the only three taverns we're allowed to frequent while we're here."

The knights come and go, each one received warmly by the crowd. Appropriate attention is given to each from those within the Royal Box…which is to say that each received a nod in welcome while whatever conversation that is brewing within proceeds in between greetings. As the knights return to the end of the field, the stands swell with sound…everyone talking at once…and most of the conversations on who would be the best bet to win the tournament. Some start to trickle out, now that the majority of the field have made its appearance, but a few still linger, their conversations adding to the din.

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