(1867-08-21) Ostvor Tourney: Opening Parade
Ostvor Tourney: Opening Parade
Summary: The opening parade for the 1867 Ostvor Tournament
Date: 1867-08-21
Related: All logs dealing with the Ostvor Tournament of 1867
Alaric  Alexandra  Alina  Alivia  Amara  Ariane  Cesare  Clara  Clarke  Cynthia  Darren  Drusilla  Elaida  Elrick  Emilia  Evelyn  Gabriel  Gastogne  Joffrey  Jonathan  Leander  Lero  Manfred  Mina  Odilia  Orion  Raelyn  Raimond  Samuel  Thaddeus  Tristan  Vorian  

Tournament Grounds - Ostvor - Couviere

Immediately off the heavy stone gates over to the Imperial Lands, nestled inside the inner Gatehouse level visible on all sides, are the tournament grounds of Ostvor. One of the rare (if not the only) large unopened expanse of the city then made up of tightly packed stones then with softer rocks atop them it has been established as a tournament ground. About the size of a large sports field built upon a foundation of stone, there are several divided sections of the stand for the varying countries from the Edge that have sent representatives to the tournament or visitors, appropriately divided by nobility. The native nobles have higher seats as well as the rulers of Couviere. There are smaller sections for commoners lower. The seats are built out of wood and many of them even have small cushions atop them, and a large tarp can be quickly unwheeled over the stands to give some protection from inclement weather. The various sections of the stands have the flags and heraldry of their cities and countries set beneath them. Underneath the stands are vendors selling food and small souvenirs.

The tournament grounds have two stalls setup for those who are competing to enter and leave, and otherwise for those who are giving support to the competitors to be arrayed in - healers, squires, footmen, or others who need to be immediately on hand. A small section is set aside for judges. The area where the actual tournament is to take place in faces the Imperial Gates, and is stone that has had heavy layers of straw and dirt and smaller rocks put atop it to soften it, and the competition grounds are designed so they can be switched around quickly with platforms and equipment depending on what competition is being held.


And to think…a few months ago it seemed that the Ostvor tourney was going to have a low turnout. Once word of the Tourney prize got out, though, that rapidly changed, and now Ostvor is swollen near to bursting with visitors, both those intending to compete and those here to see who wins, many hoping that some of the great champions will step out of (semi) retirement for a Sidhe-Steel blade. The Red Knight! The Unbroken! The King of Rivana! The Snowshield! The Silver Bull! All names tossed about by visitors and locals alike as possibly arriving to contend. Which of them actually do show up? Well, that will become apparent forthwith.

Of course, the contending knights are not the only topic of conversation, as Ostvor now plays host to the largest delegation of Imperial nobility that the Edge has seen since the Etharians first abandoned the Edge. Indeed, this very group provided the prize that will be so hotly contested these next several days. What motive they might have for such a princely gift remains their own counsel…perhaps simply to impress the folk of the Edge with the wealth and generosity of the Empire. Either way, it's no surprise that the (Arch)Ducal box is exceptionally crowded now, and indeed some people that might normally have attained a seat within are relegated to the high noble seating. Alongside the Archduke Manfred l'Faust sits the leader of this Imperial Delegation, Prince Orion Doran, and his wife, Alivia. Opposite the Archduke sits the Queen Mother Cynthia l'Valdan, representing the Royal family at these proceedings. Beside the Queen Mother is her daughter, the Lady Ariane Greycen, wife of the heir of Seaguard and in the hearts and minds of many here still a Princess of Couviere. Elsewhere in the box is the Duke Lero Anvar and his daughter Drusilla. Prince Tristan Tracano and his wife Elaida have managed a seat in the Ducal box, alongside Princess Clara Tracano. Also seated near the Archduke is Duke Cesare l'Corren (Apparently the Silver Bull, at least, will NOT be competing), and the Lady Alina l'Saigner, notably not beside her husband (inviting much speculation as the Red Knight's intentions), but rather beside none other than her mother, the Duchess Mina l'Saigner, who looks…a bit uncomfortable…simply because she's not fully recovered from her gatesickness, being a last-minute arrival…but she insisted on being present.

In any case, the crowds are out in force, and the din of conversation fills the tourney grounds as all await the signal to start the parade.

Here he was, coming out of retirement for a sword. Oh well, if he won… the blood and sweet of competition would certainly be worth it. If he lost? He could just give Alina looks and try and make her feel guilty for a couple of weeks. The competition would be fierce too, Gabriel had no doubt about that. Every knight worth his or her salt would be putting everything they had into trying to come away with that blade. All of this was yet to come. For now he had to focus on just getting through this parade.

Amidst the hubbub and the preparations, Vorian t'Maren is a rather plain sight. Handsome enough in himself, his armor is simple, coated with a dull black lacquer-paint. He keeps very near Gabriel, absently resting a hand on the unadorned hilt of his longsword. And nearby, in the crowd of watchers, his men can be seen moving from place to place. They're not here to guard — there's too many ales in hand for that — but they do periodically glance toward their new Lord and their old commander.

Having traveled north again, Thad looks around at the competitors. A good many have decided to join them this time, it seems. But with a prize like that sword… it was bound to happen. His armor has been polished, though his tourney helm (noted such because of the lion motifs being a bit more ornate) rests in his lap. A garter, a favor from his wife, is on his sword arm, visible to the world. Thad sits astride his warhorse, the same one he rode to Couviere to fight the Tirians, blue and silver everywhere on the caparison and the surcoat, both bearing the white lion of Seaguard.

The only good thing about being the King's little sister? Apperantly it gets Emilia better seats to watch the events. Seated in amongst the higher noblity as she was now, and seeming dressed a little more to fit. Some worry about embarassing her family, or someipy trying to blend in more than usual. And Huntress leathers would certianly be less common a sight here in Ostvor. It did also seem to give her a better view of the Imperial delegration gathered within the (Arch)Ducal box. Any curiosity is well hidden by the ever stoic mien that the younger Cassomir bears. Though Clara does get a brief corner tugging smile thing from her.

Another knight, who's attendence is most likely expected, is the heir to House t'Tremaine. Elrick is saddled on his charger in his full armor, the visored helm resting on the pommel of his seat for now until it is his turn to ride forth. His squire, Joseph, had done a good job polishing his knight's armor, having spent hours as he thoroughly went through each piece, making sure not to miss a spot. No doubt at the threat of a clouting if he did not do his job perfectly. Seeing Gabriel amongst them though does bring a smile to the t'Tremaine's face, another strong contender for the North.

It should be no surprise to any that Evelyn l'Faust is present. Her armor is brilliant and shining, her steed looking radiant and even Blaze is near, her warhound, freshly washed and coat looking like new fallen snow, all fluffy and unsullied by human hands. Despite her smile, the daughter of Ostvor has much on her shoulders and she's well aware of it, the expectations of the people, some of whom might include her family, coming off the win. And her glance towards the Red Knight, to Sir Jonathan t'Maren, Elrick, and Sir Thaddeus Greycen - she knows it will be exceedingly difficult. But once done, a thing can be done again. And so, there is hope. Each of her friends, those she's battled side-by-side with in her own country and others whom she's grown to respect of Rivana, receive a nod from the Knight, as the parade begins to assemble that her eye catches and wanders over.

Amara half raises in her seat amognst the general noblity every now and then trying tog et a better look, even if nothign has gotten underway just yet. But the young woman is a bundle of energy as she chatters on to those next to her. To mixed amusement and annoyance both.

Parades, such lovely events. Or not. Probably not. Samuel has made his way out to take part in this one as well, armor all polished and Miramis, his horse, made ready as well. There's a respectful nod offered to Thaddeus, after all he respects the man from earlier run-ins at the tourneys. He then offers a grin to Gabriel. "And here I thought you were happily retired from this circus, cousin," he remarks, lightly.

Raelyn, sitting next to Emilia and enjoying the same benefits of rather comfortable seating muses to Emilia, "I haven't had the chance to look, but I do believe we might have a rare opportunity here, to get you some unique paints. We should go shopping tomorrow morning, before the events and the markets close." She then smiles over towards Clara in that box, "You should make sure and invite her to come with," she offers, warmly. Then her eyes move to the parade assembling, "I imagine the competition, this time, may be more fierce than before. It's the middle of the season, and if one doesn't do well here and hasn't, they will be hard pressed to make up their points. But still many could turn the season around in their favor."

Seated in the Ducal box, the young Princess Clara Tracano sits quietly….but far from calmly, at least on the inside. She is practically elbow to elbow with all the big name individuals she grew up hearing. Her uncle, Duke Cesare, on her right. A little farther, the Queen Mother. Everywhere she turns, yet another person she heard stories about. It…causes her to have a bit of flashback…to what Clara was before. She actually has to pause…to remember who she is now. Though a glance to Emilia helps with that. And…for the first time of what may be many, Clara wishes it was a little less crowded.. or herself a little better at being inconspicuous

Even though the location of this year's Couviere tourney is as far from home as it could be, it's still the northern kingdom's tourney, and of course Jonathan t'Maren is here - and particularly conscious of the fact that, at midseason, he's very much a contender for the Circuit championship. And so he's here, astride his warhorse, armored and decked out in the crimson of his House, eyes surveying the field as he enters the parade grounds. Between the hometown hero, Sir Evelyn, and the many distinguished competitors from afar, it promises to be a challenging set of events. And that's not even considering a certain, newly branded t'Maren knight…

Raimond Giraldi waits atop his magnificent warhorse in an equally-splendid suit of shiny full-plate, somewhat impatiently awaiting the start of the parade. He knows the competition is going to be fierce indeed, this time, and no doubt the Couvieri are going to outnumber the Rivanans yet again, especially on their home ground. But none of those thoughts can completely banish the electricity in the air. The crowd is already practically on the edge of their seats, and this is just the parade! The young heir to Watch Hill can only marvel at the l'Faust's stroke of luck with the princely prize. Regardless of all else, this will no doubt be the most talked-about Tourney of the Circuit this year.

Another figure rides by Gabriel l'Saigner, on his way to his position in the line. With a grin, Joffrey t'Synclarre reaches over and lightly claps Gabriel on the shoulder, "This retirement business doesn't seem to be something we've quite mastered, does it?" He chides both himself and his goodbrother in passing, "See you after the parade, I hope." And with a nod for Samuel and those around Gabriel, the Unbroken moves further down the line to his proper spot, clad somewhat simply compared to others present, though that isn't to say his fullplate isn't well-cleaned and polished. It's just obviously a suit that's seen use as opposed to a dedicated parade suit.

Riding along in the procession on a far less magnificent charger is Clarke t'Cauthone. WIth some of the other knights from his country, he goes along at a slow trot then, watching things along. He seems content then. It's been too long without a tournament and he's wanting to ensure his skills are not rusty. Dipping his head at the other Couviere knights, his suit of armor is emblazoned with the heraldry of Blue Chevaliers, and he watches on ahead.

Down on the field, preparing for his ride, is the younger Giraldi brother. Leander is resplendent in his full plate, polished to a shine. Ever present is Fritti, his catlord sitting next to him. A hand reached over to give one final pat before he takes the saddle. "I will be right back. Just sit tight." Up on the mare…and the helm passed up to him by a helpful squire, and off to fit himself in line for the procession. Time to hurry up and wait.

Seated up in the Archducal box is Alaric l'Faust, close (but not adjacent) to his father, dressed in his typically understated finery, hands at his sides as he leans out to get a better look at one knight or another. He's not presently much of a chatterbox - granted, it's not as though the company is particularly talkative - but his eyes are wide, inquisitive and darting from place to place. His attendance at tourneys has been spotty at best, of late, but of course he wouldn't miss this one.

Down in amongst all the riff-raff..er..common folk, Odilia seems to only be half watching the grounds where the oh so shiney and uppity knights will be prancing soon. It is the crowds themselves that have her attention, oh and that meat vendor with mystrey meat on a stick! A tournament must!

Moving along with Odilia (and certainly qualifying as riff-raff) Gastogne walks along then, glancing up and over at things, speaking idly to Odilia, "So, who you think to wager on if any this circuit?" Going along towards the mystery meat section as well.

Finally, the Archduke gives a signal, and trumpets blare, announcing the parade is about to begin. Manfred rises to his feet, moving to the edge of the box and speaking in a voice that is still clear and resolute despite his years, standing tall and proud in his finery as her surveys the crowd and those waiting to march.

"Distinguished guests…" He gestures towards those in the box with him, "Lords and ladies, and good people of the Edge, it is my pleasure and honor to welcome you all to my home, and it is my honor to play host to this distinguished event. May the One bless our competitors and those who have travelled, whether from near or far to bear witness to their skill and valor. May we yet see great deeds of martial prowess and inspiring acts of honor and fortitude over these next two weeks. And now, I ask you all join me in honoring all those that will compete."

Manfred lifts his hands and sure enough the crowd roars and applauds for several moments, before the Archduke gives a quelling gesture and they quiet down, "And now, let the parade begin!" He calls out.

Gabriel shares nods with Joffrey, Samuel, Vorian and other knights of Couviere, though he is silent. He always preferred a bit of silent contemplation before things like this.

Name called, Gabriel rides forth on his warhorse. From head to toe he is in a suit of lightsilver armor, the expensive and gaudy plate a remainder that he had been a Circuit Champion. Reaching the ducal box, he unsheathes his sword and salutes the box with all the dignitaries in one motion. Though aimed at the Archduke, a brief moment of attention is given to his father. "My name is Gabriel l'Saigner, and I fight for the honor of my wife, Alina l'Saigner and of House 'Saigner and to bring glory to the Kingdom of Couviere. Your Grace, thank you for hosting this contest, and may House l'Faust be blessed with good fortune in the events to come." Sheathing his sword, Gabriel bows to the box and then turns and trots off, allowing the next in line their turn.

The crowd gives a near-deafening ROAR when Gabriel introduces himself, the noise carrying on long enough that the next couple of (NPC) knights practically get drowned out before they calm down enough that the competitors can be heard again.

Vorian has a moment of genuine speechlessness as the Unbroken rides up, and then away. He glances aside at Gabriel and seems poised to say something, then just shakes his head. He looks over to Jonathan, gesturing around with a grin, a sweep of his hand that seems to imply just how exciting this all is. And then he's riding up after Gabriel, drawing his sword and saluting. His voice carries easily, trained for the battlefield. "My name is Vorian t'Maren, and I fight for the honor of House t'Maren, and House l'Saigner, and for the glory of the Kingdom of Couvier. Your Grace, thank you for hosting this contest." Sheathing his own sword, the relatively-unknown t'Maren bows, turns his horse away, and trots off after the l'Corren.

Clarke can't help even on his own steed in the back to take his hands up and over and applaud as well then, breaking into a 'hurrah' that is probably lost in the cheering as well then before reminding himself of his place then, and good naturedly he puts his hands back down then to hold his reins steady.

Amara almost bounces out of her seat as the first of the knights appear. A hand instantly pulls her back on down. Not that being seats dims Amara's enthusiastic cheering as the parade starts off. A show of energy that really does not seem to diminish in the least as the knights parade by, especially those local favorites.

Odilia only gives Gastone a half look,"Not sure yet, if it were just normal circiut tournament that would be easy. But they put that fancy-shamancy sword out there as a prize, that changes thing. We're gonna see a whole different field showing up fer this. Ask me later when we know who's all actually shown up." Chomping into her mystrey-meat-on a stick, but some how still managing some sort of cheer around that mouth ful of food as the parade gets on it's way. With all the noise that first shiney knight brings, Odilia quite happily chomps a few more bites out of that mystrey meat.

Talk of paints? Now /that/ has Emilia's attention in a thrice. "I believe you may be of right in of that. It might be of a good idea to get out early to the shops," as others will surely be making use of the same oppurtunities. "I would of offer a chance to see some more of the city as of well." She does finally give the field some attention, or more so where all the knights are getting prepared. "I of imagine it will certailny be of something, not only because of the points but for of the prize to be of won. It will bring many who are not caring for Circuit of points but wish for Sidhe of Steel." Looking back to her sister, Emilia asks a question that only she could ask and be entirely serious about it,"Do you of think they will have new and different shades of black?"

Emilia's attention does go towards the box of honor when the trumpets blare and the greeting and annoucement is made to kick off the parade and tournament. In some contrast to..well most the rest of the crowd…Emilia simply claps with as much eneergy as one might for watching a competition on paint drying.

The aforementioned newly-branded t'Maren knight had ridden in not far behind her new husband, but distinctly separately from him. It wasn't anything personal; Alexandra (nee t'Artan) wouldn't be her if she weren't, well - her. Yes, they were now married, but that wasn't some sort of identity-stealing rite of passage for her. And now, more than ever, she felt the acute need to push the issue, riding in t'Maren colors with a t'Artan favor clearly displayed around her neck. She's hovered three or four knights behind Jonathan the whole time, taking in the sights while occasionally glancing forward toward him.

When her turn in line comes up, Alexandra rides her horse to the center, immediately before Manfred. She bows her head briefly. "I am Lady Sir Alexandra t'Maren, and I compete for the honor of House t'Maren and House l'Saigner, but for House t'Artan as well. I do hope to prove my worthiness." Short, her speech is over soon and she canters off to join the rest.

Gastogne gives a nod lightly in thought over at Odilia, "Got it." He trusts her understanding of the skill of the knights much better then, and a tournament and wagers to be made always have him in good spirits. "Sounds good to me." Heading along to grab some of the meat for himself from one of the vendors, a few small coins are handed over as he biteson it thoughtfully

Among the first Rivanans to join the parade is Thaddeus. When his time comes he stands in his stirrups and roars to the crowd, "I am Lord Thaddeus Greycen of Seawatch, Lord Marshal of Rivana, the victor of Three Crowns, do fight for my house and Rivana's glory." He salutes the box adn gives his wife a nod before he makes his way down the road.

When Evelyn's name is called, she moves her steed forward. Her own armor, though not lightsilver, still shines well enough. She reaches the ducal box, and unsheathes her own blade, holding it towards the Archduke, her own father, and calls in a loud, clear voice, "My name is Lady Sir Evelyn l'Faust, and I fight for honor and glory of the Kingdom of Couviere, my own House, and for Ostvor! May this Tourney be remembered for years to come with grand stories and tales of glory those brought here." She lowers her blade, and moves off so that the next Knight may come forth.

Jonathan t'Maren, too, rides his house directly before Manfred, and as his turn comes up, his normally subdued voice rings out loud and clear. "I am Jonathan t'Maren, heir to the Barony of Bloodfield. And I fight for the honor of House t'Maren, and all the houses of Lonnaire, and for my wife's House t'Artan as well." There's no favor on him, at least not a visible one, but the words are still spoken as sincerely as any.

And then it's his turn. Steeling himself, Clarke t'Cauthone goes to salute with his sword to the Archduke, and the stands then. "I am Sir Clarke t'Cauthone. I fight for the honor of my King to whom my service and honor are owed, and for my fellow Knights of the Blue Chevaliers that I have the honor of representing them!" He gives a salute then, and then moves on as well. As the t'Maren goes past ahead of him and he finishes, Clarke raises up his hand in a salute to him quietly, fist raised in acknowledgement.

Applause is given by Elrick when the Archduke gives his welcome to everyone present, a polite and respectful gesture from the t'Tremaine. However, when it is Gabriel that rides out first on the parade to make his own introductions, the t'Tremaine Knight gives a loud, genuine cheer the well-known knight that use to hail from his Liege House and the Champion of last year's Circuit. Then he quietly waits for his turn to come up, though when the knights he recognizes or knows ride up to introduce themselves, Elrick offers the proper applauses and cheers.
With the large number of knights competing in this event, it is a bit before Elrick's turn comes up and when it does, he nudges his charger forward at a formal trot, posture straight as his gaze is fully dedicated to the Ducal box. When he reaches the pre-appointed spot where he is to annouce his introductions, he does so in a strong and clear voice after saluting with his own sidhe-steel blade drawn, "My name is Elrick t'Tremaine, Heir to the Barony of Hartwood. I fight for the honor of House t'Tremaine and to bring glory to the Kingdom of Couviere! Your Grace, I am honored to be able to compete here in Ostvor and may the people of Ostvor be presented with an excellent showing of fierce competition." Once his announcement is completed, he bows his head deeply astride his steed before straightening up and steering his charger to a trot again, allowing the next knight to take his turn.

While the Crowds do cheer more loudly for the Couvieri knights, both famous and relatively unknown, it may be surprising that they still seem to be cheering a reasonable amount for the Rivanan knights as well. Or at least managing "polite applause" with very little "boo'ing." Though Thaddeus listing of himself as the Victor of Three Crowns does cause a bit of a stir. Given that most Couvieri consider King Jean-Paul l'Valdan the"victor" of that particular battle.

Odilia may have a better idea of how the whole trounament thing works. But it may not stop her from picking which knight is her favourite based on the colors worn, how shiney their armor is, or the name of the horse. "Oh, that one has a pretty horse." That now half eaten mystrey meat being waggled at the field and the current knight passing by.

Gastogne can't help but laugh over at Odilia and chuckles, "I suppose that's one way." He is in good cheer as they walk along then, "So, might I get you a bit of ale then when we finish?"

Raelyn looks back to her sister, considering, "In truth, I've seen very few weapons of such. Our own family's blade," which Jaren still possessed, "That the Queen has gifted me with in trust, and one or two others. But, I suppose it is possible that they, too, could have different forms, shades, of black. Perhaps done if in different smithies?" It's something to consider, certainly. But as the parade begins, she begins to clap politely and even a little energtically for those of Couviere, cut she is clearly saving her enthusiasm for those of Rivana, whom she'd certainly like to see win.

It seems that Amara actually can get more energetic as is proven when her brother makes his apperance in the parade. She cheers rather loudly, and does an odd little whistle thing. The younger t'Tremaine continuing to cheer until Elrick has well passed on in the parade.

Vorian rides over alongside Jonathan, giving him another bright grin. "Did you hear that Rivanan, Cousin?" He has to speak up over the crowds. "The victor of Three Crowns." The knight gives an amiable snort, seeming more amused than upset by the Marshal's claim. "How are you? It's been some time since I've had the pleasure. Enjoying married life, no doubt."

A deep breath as it is his turn to ride forward, Samuel does so. Coming to a stop in place to salute the Archduke, he raises his voice. "I am Sir Samuel l'Corren. I fight for House l'Corren, and the Kingdom of Couviere. May the One see that the best knight wins this tournament, and that we all honors the tournament to make sure it gets the greatness it deserve. I am proud to take my part in it." There's a brief pause after his words, before he offers another salute, and rides off after the others.

Raimond Giraldi rides forward as his turn comes about, moving out before the crowds, and with a flick of the reins, his horse dips into the approximation of a bow, and when it straightens, Raimond lifts his visor and speaks:

"I am Sir Raimond Giraldi, Heir to Watch Hill and Knight of Rivana. It is my pleasure to participate in this contest, amidst such distinguished and storied competition. Twice now, it has been my honor to fight alongside the courageous warriors of Couviere, first during the Great Raid upon Pacitta, and later at the Battle of Three Crowns, because I have witnessed first hand their skill and bravery, I know full well how difficult it may be to claim victory here."

Raimond flashes that brilliant smile of his, "But for the honor and glory of House Giraldi, I pray to the One God that I may be bold in the attempt, and humbly offer my thanks to our host for the opportunity." And with a salute, Raimond moves off the field, following the train of Knights along the path.

Emilia glances over towards Raelyn,"You have not of gotten to see Destrian's of yet? Or perhaps you were not of realizing what it is of being. We will have to have him show it to you of next time." The matter on smithies is concsided,"It would be of interesting to of know. Unlikely to of learn if such could be of true." She does clap for each of the knights as they announce themselves, that rather polite fashion upheld. Though one or two of the Rivanian knights do get a touch of energy to that claping.

Having seen Lord Thaddeus ride first for the Rivanans, Leander Giraldi himself prepares for his turn before the crowd. And really…it was fully intended that Thaddeus rode first for Rivana. After having to endure the lecture given to him by the Lord Marshall over the last time the two of them were in a tournament, Leander had no wish to upset the knight again. "Lectures more than Mother". Granted, those words were quiet…said under his breath…but said, nonetheless. A few more knights ride before him (knights of no consequence…at least Leander hasn't heard of them.) before it is his turn. Which does come. Right after his brother…such as usual.

The great black mare strides forward, with Leander sitting tall in the saddle. There will be no great theatrics tonight…no standing upon the back of the saddle and certainly not in full plate. He does, however, bows low before the Ducal box, with his horse. Just a little bit lower and little bit longer than his brother. As he returns to an upright position, the helm is removed, cradled under one arm as Leander speaks in a clear voice:

"I am Sir Leander Giraldi, also of Watch Hill and loyal Knight of Rivana. I, too, am grateful for the opportunity to prove my worth before such an audience as is present. I shall not boast of my deeds here, for I fear that they shall pale significantly to the collective actions of all here tonight. I will humbly aspire that my actions here will be equal to the greatness that is before me."

Instead of the winning Giraldi smile, Leander himself offers his usual wry grin. "Allow me to share in my brother's prayer, that I may be so bold in the attempt to place myself in the same calibur, for the honor and glory of Rivana and of House Giraldi. Thank you for the tremendous opportunity." Then, with another grand bow of horse and rider, Leander moves off the field. But not without scanning the crowds and smiling to all those that meet his eye. Some more than others…

After a couple more lesser-known knights between himself and Leander, Joffrey t'Synclarre moves across the parade field, pausing before the box to offer his salute, smiling as he lifts the visor of his helm and speaks:
"I am Sir Joffrey t'Synclarre, Lord of Edgebrooke. I am honored to be among such fine competition as this, and grateful for the hospitality of our distinguished host. I compete in honor of my lady wife, Gwendolyn t'Synclarre, and in the hope that our son Robert may, when he is old enough, hear of my deeds here and find pride and inspiration in them, whether victory is mine or not."

And with that, Joffrey turns his horse towards the path off the field, making way for the next knight in the parade to follow. No mention of his byname, of his battles, or of his membership in the Templar order. Perhaps he assumes such things are known, though more likely…he just isn't the type for bragging, like several of the other knights here.

Odilia shrugs at the offer of ale,"Ain't one to pass up a free ale. " Continuing to watch the fancy knights continue to moveon by and go on about their deeds and who's honor and what not they are competing for. "Ever wonder what it means when someone says they are competingin in the name of someone, then do the worst ever?"

And while perhaps not quite so loud and lengthy as it was for Gabriel, at least a Knight or two beyond Sir Joffrey will have a hard time being heard over the cheers of the largely-Couvieri crowd.

Not until the two t'Maren by blood move well past the ducal box does Jonathan respond to his cousin. "Yes, Sir Thaddeus is formidable," he replies, simply. "Lord Marshal. Quite dangerous, for a Southerner." His tone is deadpan. "I've been well enough. Enjoying as best I can, certainly." A tilt of his helmeted head at Vorian. "And you? Heard you were involved in a minor scuffle recently…"

Gastogne considers, "Probably want to find another person to do it in the name of before that person has them killed likely?" At the very least, that's what all the women he would do (Other than Odilia, for whom cookies will do instead) in Couviere that he has met.

Amara does bring down the cheering a notch after her brothere has passed on by. A loud cheer here and the coming, but she has fallen back into excited chatter. That is until she spots a certain Rivana Knight amongst the knights in the parade and she is half out of her seat once more. While the cheer is not quite filled with the same energy that Elirck got, Amara does cheer rather enthusiastically for Leander, earning her more than a few looks from those surrounding her in the process. But that does appear to impact the round of cheering for the younger Giraldi.

"Bandits. Well, they seem to be bandits." Vorian doesn't elaborate, not here. Not even he is as indiscrete as that. "We put them down without much trouble." His voice isn't nonchalant, as some men's might be. After all, he's speaking about men's lives. "Being honest, Cousin, it was the closest I've come to a true battle in some time." There is a brief pause for consideration, and then he continues, "..Or did you mean the little brawl with Esyld?"

The next Knight here has been careful to keep a low profile, largely helped along by having only finished recovering from gatesickness this morning. He rides out in full plate of unadorned dark grey steel, clean but clearly well-used, and bearing the colors of House Haldis. When he pauses before the stands, he salutes with a black bastard sword of the same prized material as the trophy that will be granted to the Tourney victor, and he bellows:

"I am Duke Darren Haldis of Eastfield. Son of the Archduke Bryar Haldis. With the aid of warriors of Couviere, I pushed the Brodlunders back into the sea at Pacitta. I plucked the Thorns and Goldhollow and Blackstone and the Battle of the Ascendant Rose. Though I come here to compete for the glory of Rivana, it is my pleasure to meet all challengers here in the spirit of honorable competition, and I am most grateful to our host, who has shown me hospitality that I would not have expected to find in these lands, given the name I bear."

Despite what is, for him, an exceptionally gracious introduction, Darren Haldis doesn't seem at all surprised to be the one that finally does elicit more "boos" than cheers from the crowd here. Indeed, there's a bit of a rueful smirk upon his face as he rides off the field. Ah well…someone has to be the unfavorite. At least no one can accuse the Bastard Duke of not having the guts to show up in "hostile" territory.

Odillia nods,"Maybe so. But now I am curious, I may have to keep tabs on just who does the worst and check in with them to find out." The woman giving another bit of a shrug after throughtfully chewing on the last of her mystrey meat.

Gastogne lets out a soft chuckle, "Sounds like a plan. Do keep me informed. And will the bard be playing or you not sure as of yet?" Alwyas have to cheer for the locals, particularly when they're friends. Or so he might like to think.

"I believe I was talking about the bandits," Jonathan replies, flatly, "but I suppose I am curious about whatever involvement my sister had as well." Half-sister, technically, but he doesn't stress the point. Nodding as he slips off his horse, he adds, "Yes, I don't doubt that bandits proved to be fairly easy to dispatch. We'll find the competition rather more challenging here, I am sure."

Vorian looks sidelong at Jonathan for a moment, gauging the other man's mood as he, too, dismounts with a rattle of mail. He considers for a moment, then speaks in a low tone. "They fought better than expected. Extraordinarily well-trained for bandits. None of ours were seriously hurt, but it was still — surprising." He glances around at the esteemed knights, then nods his head in concurrence with the other man's assessment. "Far more," he says, quite cheerfully. "I hope I get a chance to greet Sir Joffrey properly," he continues. "We served together at Valetta, though I doubt he remembers me."

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