(1867-09-03) Ostvor Tourney: Awards Ball
Ostvor Tourney: Awards Ball
Summary: The Awards Banquet and Ball for the Ostvor tournament, in which a tornado decides to crash the party.
Date: 1867-09-03
Related: All logs dealing with the Ostvor Tournament of 1867
Alaina  Alina  Alivia  Amara  Ariane  Cesare  Clara  Dalmer  Darren  Dawn  Devlin  Dixon  Elaida  Elrick  Emilia  Esyld  Evelina  Gabriel  Leander  Manfred  Mina  Orion  Osric  Quentyn  Raelyn  Raimond  Reese  Thaddeus  Tristan  Vorian  

Great Hall - Ostvor Castle - Ostvor - Couviere
See scene.

Thunder rumbles in the distance as the feasting goes on in the Great Hall of Ostvor Castle. In the late afternoon storms had picked up again, and the afternoon into evening was dark with the wind whipping through the streets of the city. The darkening evening sky is tinged a slight green.

Inside the hall is lit by hundreds of everlights in warm and soft yellows. No plate goes empty for long as they are refilled by ever-bustling servants.

At the head table, Archduke Manfred sits beside his wife on one side and his heir on the other, keeping a weather eye on the other tables and making sure his honored guests have their plates being kept full and their goblets as well.

Also at the head table, though a bit further down, Duchess Mina l'Saigner, cousin to the Archduke, sits beside her daughter Alina and on Alina's other side, the winner of the tournament and her husband, Gabriel. Alina seems to have a healthy appetite tonight, though every crack of thunder that can be heard over the buzz of conversation causes her to flinch slightly. She cuts into a slice of t'Artan beef, taking a bite after swirling it through some of the gravy on the plate. Her wine is largely going untouched.

Amara flinched and occasionally jumped some within her seat at the loud cracks of thunder that seemed to only get worse as the day and evening had progressed. The food gave her something to focus upon besides the storm, that and the conversations at her table. And maybe a fleeting glance stolen over to another table…that one over there..where a certain knight may, or may not be seated.

Sitting at one of the tables that has been populated by some of the lesser Rivanan nobles whom had come to the tournament, Dawn Bazan takes a delightful bite out of the perfectly seasoned and smoked cut of meat she has. Gently cutting through it to take another bite and letting the smell of it flow thorugh her nostrils. Otherwise, the tournament for her has been productive; her second time in Couviere in what feels like a lifetime from her youth, she has been much more animated on this visit and her explorations of the city of Ostvor. Also, quite uncharacteristically she has been following much of the gossip and rumors following through that have been going through the city. So, it is with a thoughtful look then she enjoys her meat then and also goes over on some of the things she has heard in the last few days present while also watching throughout the room.

Sitting next to his wife, Gabriel's plate is full of vegetables and one big cut of ribeye. He cuts a nice chunk out of the meat and puts it in his mouth, closing his eyes a moment to really enjoy the flavor of it. If he's bothered by the thunder, he gives no outward sign of it. After swallowing down his steak, he glances over to see how Alina is doing. "You are eating more than normal, that's good. I always tell you to eat more, I'm glad you are taking my advice to heart." He grins, sure to bring the goblet of wine to his lips before she decides to smack him.

Prince Tristan sits beside his wife, Elaida, his plate full though his own cut of meat is small. He cuts his bites into small, manageable pieces, conversing with some of those sitting around him. From time to time, he glances over at Elaida and smiles at her.

Seated down at one of the lower tables is Sir Vorian t'Maren. The young knight did not quite manage to distinguish himself during the tourney, though he escaped humiliation and ignominy, proving himself at least competent with sword and lance. His dark features are lively and pleasant as he devours the meal set before him. He eats with a healthy appetite, cutting into the steak and dragging a slice through the gravy before taking a bite.

Frequently, his eyes lift from his plate as he scans the Hall, lifting his goblet of wine in salute to various acquaintances. But he doesn't appear to be drinking much of it; though the servants bring him more steak, they only refill his goblet once. The frequent thunder brings a periodic smile to his face, and he lays his goblet down atop the table, observing the way the rumbles cause ripples to flicker across the surface of his wine.

Raimond Giraldi is seated a good bit closer to the Archduke's table than he otherwise might be, by virtue of his victory in the Joust this tourney. Close enough that the person sitting next to him is none other than his half-brother, the Duke Darren Haldis. They've been speaking quietly and jesting lightly as the evening has worn on, clearly in high spirits. Though as Raimond polishes off the last few bits of the ribeye steak he's just enjoyed, he does comment, "You know…I may have to talk to Mother about taking an interest in the cattle trade. This is really quite good."

"One help you Rai, you can't just sit here and enjoy the party, can you?" Darren nudges Raimond with an elbow, "Always looking for the next venture."

Raimond shrugs, smiling not at all sheepishly, "I get it from my father, I'm told. Besides, I may as well get the practice now for when I need it later." If the weather is troubling the heir to House Giraldi, he gives no sign of it beyond the occasional glance towards the window when a particularly bright flash of lightning or peal of thunder can be heard. Darren is even less moved than that. But then again they do get some wicked storms on the plains of Eastfield.

Thad is sitting with his wife, at a table fitting their station. Unsurprisingly, his plate with a rather large slab of beef surrounded by little else. He has been rather focused on his food this far.

Well, isn't this fancy. While Esyld is, of course, only on the periphery of proceedings, blending with the other lucky commoners granted a seat at one of the lowest tables near the entryway, she's still able to enjoy a grand view of the opulent scene; blue eyes roaming with interest over the gathering, taking in the nobility in all their finery. And the food. It's not as though those in the employ of the l'Saigners go wanting, but this is a rare treat. She's polishing off a sizeable ribeye with gusto, and sampling a little of everything when it comes to the sides. Potatoes, bread, roasted parsnips in honey… the woman must have hollow legs, with the way she's packing it all away. Cheerfully joining in with the jovial chatter going on around her, the t'Maren bastard laughs aloud at something uttered by a fellow Northerner, nodding assent to his commentary. The storm raging outside goes entirely unnoticed by the mercenary, though that might be something to do with the apparently neverending flow of ale. Good thing she can hold her drink.

The attire at this table is unsurprisingly not exactly on the same scale of grandeur as those closer to the high table. But, in a nigh-unheard of exception for such an occasion, Esyld is actually wearing a dress. It's several years out of style, true. Antique, almost. But the silvery-charcoal shade and well-fitted bodice are still a distinctly feminine contrast to her usual leathers. A sharp eye might catch her occasionally fidgeting with the neckline or looking fleetingly ill at ease. But the woman has etiquette enough not to look entirely out of her depth.

The big slab o'beef that had been served up on her plate had gotten a faint looker over by Emilia. It was not quite the normal fair she was used to. It seemed interesting enough though, and the sides that she added to her plate were slightly more familiar. She gave only a mild glance upwards as one of the louder rumbles of thunder cracked, but over all Emilia seems to not give the storm much notice. A far different reaction then to when storms occur back home. Managing a few words once in awhile in the conversation that flows at her table, but as is not uncharacteristic for her there is more listening that is done then speaking. Even if the potential for travel delays seem to be a minor topic to have come up with the storm seeming to gain strength and show no signs of letting up.

It is with a thoughtful look on her face that Dawn Bazan takes another cut of the deliscious, perfectly carved meat then and goes to gently take a small bite of it, savoring. Watching around then, and then taking a small sip of her wine,seh thoughtfully gazes across the tables then, settled ina nd thinking to herself as she watches along them, glancing at people enjoying themselves, a half smile on her face.. When not focused on chewing!

Seated at the same table as his sister, Elrick is paying the storm outside no heed, having fought through them and also competed in the middle of one in the final round of the joust, which certainly made a mess of the event, making it less than spectacular. The selection of cut is the bone-in ribeye for the t'Tremaine, a cut that is no doubt chosen by most but he has only cut into some portions of the meat itself, more focused on the others at his table. A couple of nobles and knights, ones that were not able to make it far enough to be featured in the duels or jousts. But still, they are familiar faces in the tourney circuit. Whether Elrick spots the sidelong glances that his little sister is tossing at the Giraldi table, he makes no note of it, apparently allowing his sister to do as she wishes.

Alina hmphs at her husband. "I forgot to eat lunch," she replies haughtily before taking another bite of her steak. The earlier conversation with her husband, Esyld, and Vorian had distracted her quite a bit.

Mina tsks, daintily working on her own plate. "You shouldn't skip meals, Alina."

Elaida has finished her first plate, and quietly and shyly arguing with a servant who is trying to put another slab of meat on her plate. "No… no, really, I'm quite full," she murmurs, flushing. Really, where would she put another cut of it?

Outside, the thunder seems to slow down some, though in the distance a low, dark rumble can be heard. The building shakes slightly from the rumble.

Dalmer Haver is greatly enjoying her visit to Ostvor, despite not having taken part in the tourney. Perhaps the lure of the field has been set aside by the Paladin, in favor of forging new friendships? Regardless, she's comfortably ensconced at the same table as Darren and his half-brother, sedately tearing a bread-roll apart with her fingers and dipping it in melted butter as she listens, smiling faintly at the banter from the men nearby. She doesn't interject. To be honest, she's quite happy to have been granted such a spot.. she's not going to spoil it by saying the wrong thing at the wrong time to the wrong person. A feat that she somehow manages all too often.

Few, outside of the Rivanans, have any real inkling who the pretty blonde is, and that seems to suit her just fine. Besides, most of the glances from the Northern women have been rather.. judgemental. She can't help it if her taste in fashion is lacking! The dress of forest green, burnished gold and dark copper is perfectly nice. It's just.. modest. And a little outdated. The bodice is tightly laced, the neckline demure, bordering on sisterly. At least she seems to have made some effort with her hair; the tresses spilling loose down her back, save a few strands swept back and pinned at her temples. An idle glance over her surroundings catches Dawn Bazan over there, and she offers the healer a warm smile, quite unabashed.

Dawn gives a quiet smile then over to Dalmer then as she is noticed, the older woman dipping her head then over from her position, and she idly finishes chewing her bit of meat then, "A pleasure to see you." She offers quietly then, putting her fork down then. Right over as the sudden rumble and the shake of the building almost makes her jump a bit. She quicly relaxes, but murmurs, "The storm is quite strong.." Or is it something else?

She glances over at Dalmer, and then gently gestures with a slight shake of her head - a request for permision to get up and approach the other woman then if such a thing would not be minded.

"I try to tell her that all the time, but she is always so busy, even for a bit of bread and cheese." Gabriel says to Mina, eying Alina and her voracious appetitie. "One would think you just participated in the tournament yourself, dear." He laughs, shaking his head and returning to his own plate.

Tristan can't help but laugh as Elaida and the servant discuss a second helping. Finished with his own meal, he pushes his plate forward slightly and then reaches over to take Elaida's hand. "Do not worry, surely there will be some fine dessert for us to enjoy shortly. Have some wine in the meantime, love. It is quite good."

Vorian's gaze eventually drifts toward the lower tables, to where Esyld and the other common Northerners are seated. His gaze drifts past her, completely uncomprehending, and lingers on the sole man-at-arms from his own tiny company. He raises his goblet toward the soldier, and then — finally — his attention snaps back to Esyld and her dress. Just for a moment, his mouth is agape, and then he quickly looks away. Wouldn't do to earn a beating right here in the feast hall, after all.

His attention diverts in a safer direction, falling on Elrick t'Tremaine, and he raises his hand in a quiet greeting to the man, just as the building begins to tremble somewhat more noticeably. He glances down at his goblet, frowning briefly, then dismisses the storm outside with an almost-palpable eagerness to come to grips with his potatoes. He's really keeping his head quite down right now, and nearly misses a comment directed at him by one of the other knights. Belatedly, he looks up and grins, tossing a mild jest back in answer to the man as they speak about one of the less-watched duels.

Amara is trying to ignore the storm, with little luck truth be told. Cutting another sliver of meat off of her steak to give her hands something to keep busy with. "I do not remembering ever having a storm back home that was even close to being as loud and strong as this one seems to be." Amara making the mild comment to her brother.

Finishing up a conversation with a knight at his table, more or less lamenting that the storm had ruined a perfectly popular tournament towards the end of the joust, Elrick catches the quiet greeting from Vorian, his head incliing respectfully to the other knight who was formidable enough to make it to the final brackets with only a number of other knights. Then his attention is to his little sister who makes a comment about the storm, nodding his head at her, "This time it seems particularly active, but it will pass in due time, as all storms do, Sister." Picking up the goblet of wine, he takes a long sip before inquiring with an amused grin, "Lest you wish me to don my armor and pick up a lance, to try to ride against the heavens for their untimely intrusion?"

One of the servants moves to Archduke Manfred and murmurs something in his ear. The Archduke nods, frowning, and murmurs a few orders back to the man who bows and disappears from the room.

The low rumbling gets a little louder. Unlike thunder, it is a constant noise.

Dabbing at her lips with a heavy cloth napkin, Dalmer flits a subtly enquiring glance aside toward Darren, perhaps silently seeking permission for a few words with a friendly face. It's not her table to invite folks to, after all. In the end, rather than disturb the man, the blonde offers a staying gesture toward Dawn, with a raised palm, and moves to rise herself. She has no qualms about being seen to mingle.. better that than breach etiquette with the knights seated here. Dropping her napkin beside her plate and smoothing her skirts with a sweep of both palms, she straightens to her full, not inconsiderable, height and edges around the trestle, crossing the short distance toward the noblewoman.

"Lady Dawn." Her greeting is warm, laced with a thicker, less elegant accent than some of her peers but in a charmingly rustic sort of way rather than uncouth. "Lovely to see you again. Enjoying your evening, thus far?" A friendly smile is cast vaguely toward those seated nearby, in turn. She makes no move to sit, simply lingering and folding her hands primly before herself. "The steak is really quite excellent."

Amara does look along to the knight her brother exchanges a bit of a greeting with, inquiring after,"Who is that? I think I saw him ride in the joust." She is soon grinning herself,"No, I don't think I wish for you to do that. After all I think you already tried your hand at that yesterday and I am pretty sure this is the response. I would not care for an even more active storm should you give challenge once more."

As hte other woman approaches her then, Dawn Bazan gives a smile, "Hello there. A pleasure to see you again. It has been too long." Dawn moves toa djust then her position, shuffling her chair slightly to give the other woman to approach then. "And I've had a lovely evening. It has.. Been an inspiring tournament. Many displays of prowess." She smiles as the other woman comes and she looks up. "And the meal is exquisite. I.."

The constant nature of the rumbling has her attention, and she quietly muses, "That does not sound quite like thunder, does it." A little curious, looking up then and gesturing. "Would you care to join me then? A lways a pleasure to have a companion for such a meal if I am not pulling you from other conversations?"

The constant noise does cause Emilia's head to tilt a little as if to give better listen. It was not the usual rumble of thunder. Giving just a mild nudge of her elbow to her sister and a very subtle raise of a brow. A minor hint of question that most would miss on that stoic face.

Esyld doesn't catch that stare from the higher table. Probably just as well. No, she's quite contentedly enjoying another goblet of ale, engaged in a lively discussion with the young men around her. Well, it's mostly men who entered the events open to all. And who can blame them for being interested in a commoner who went toe to toe with a formidable Countess? The mercenary looks less and less concerned with her feminine attire as time marches on, pushing back her plate and resisting the urge to lick it clean, foregoing that in favor of her drink. And now someone's regaling the group with a no-doubt heroic tale of their own prowess, prompting a bout of laughter from the common table.

As ever, intermittent glances flit toward Alina and her mother. But the only danger they appear to be in for the moment is the necssity of letting their bodices out a couple of inches.

"He is Sir Jacob t'Kemp, cousin to the main line of his name, Sister." Elrick says quietly to Amara as the other knight is now in conversation with someone else, not wishing to intrude by speaking his name too loudly. "I've ridden with and against him quite a few times in my earlier years on the Circuit, he is a skilled knight, and a number of times, he was close to joining us in the final brackets. His House is well known for the high quality arms that they make." As for the storm, the t'Tremaine Heir can only smirk as he takes another drink of the fine wine before motioning for a nearby servant to refill it, "I did not ride well enough, both against the storm and against Sir Raimond. Or I would have blown both away, giving our House another victory and this evening clear skies. Quite the disappointment, I'm afraid." He is apparently still nursing his wounded pride.

Vorian looks up again as his wine continues to tremble, his gaze flitting toward the High Table. Dark eyes narrow briefly as he observes the messenger's arrival and departure. His attention shifts down the table to the l'Saigner family for a few moments, just a quick glance. He nearly misses a comment from the knight across from him, and answers only distractedly. The other man seems a bit put-off by his inattention, and so Vorian devotes himself to this conversation for a time, apologizing and offering a small toast.

Eventually, having smoothed things over with his friend, Vorian turns his attention back to the lower table. This time, he seems to be trying to catch Esyld's eye. His features are more composed than before, as though he's braced himself for the shock of seeing her in anything other than leather, and his goblet is poised to salute, should he catch her attention. It's the laughter that keeps drawing his gaze, it seems, and there's a slightly wistful look on the young t'Maren knight's face. The man across the table smiles and makes some remark, eventually forcing him to look back and answer, affable smile sliding back into place.

"Oh.." Glancing back over a shoulder toward Darren and Raimond, Dalmer grins in mild amusement. "I don't think I'll be missed. They were discussing cattle, last I heard." Returning her gaze to Dawn, sharing a conspiratorial expression of subdued mirth, the blonde politely takes advantage of the chance of a chair. "I'll no doubt be shoo'd back for dessert sometime soon, though I'd be delighted to keep your company until then." Easing down into the seat, keeping her slender back ramrod straight, Dalmer regards the healer appreciatively. "You look splendid, by the way. I feel ever so drab, compared to all the glamorous creatures present this evening." Ah, a solid effort at deprecation, when she clearly couldn't give a fig.

"So. Who caught your eye in the bouts, m'Lady? I was rather pleasantly surprised by the showing of the Giraldi heir.. he does seem to be improving.." As her attention is drawn to that continued thrum of sound from outside, however, the Paladin halts and listens a moment. "No.. no, it doesn't.." An unaccustomed frown emphasises her thoughtful silence, dark eyes wandering to the nearest window.

Dawn nods over then and leans back, smiling then over at Dalmer, "Well, I enjoy the company as much. And I'll enjoy it before social duties take you back then otherwise. I can't say to have a particular preference other than my son whom competes in some of them.." She smiles, "He's a Royal Lancer, and does his father proud." She takes a breath over and smiles, "Splendid? Hardly. You don't have to give an old woman compliments. I've learned to dress for comfort and I'm behind enough on the fashion over at the court that unless someone tells me what to wear for an event I could hardly claim any degree of awareness otherwise."

She nods over then and looks thoughtful, "I would suppose that the Red Knight. I doubt there will be performances to match what he did in our lifetimes again on the circuit." SHe has to offer that in complete fairness to the Circuit Champion. Her face goes into a quiet frown as she looks up quietly and as Dalmer agrees wtih her, her expression hardens some as she quietly glances around. "Too regular for thunder.. If a wagon was being brought in it would not be shaking so much."

A slight 'Oh," comes from Amara as the name is given. Another slight look given to the knight when Elrick speaks further about the man. "Perhaps I will see him ride at one of the future tournaments again then." She takes a few drinks from her cup of win before she shakes her head. "You still rode quite well. I know I do not know the Circuit as well as you do, brother, but even I know that the number of knights turned out for this one are greater in number. "

As the laughter dies down - the way laughter does, when you remember you're in a room of properly behaving people - Esyld finally seems to take note of what has caught the attention of others. What in the One's name is that sound? Over the rim of her cup, the mercenary happens to catch Vorian's eye and arches an enquiring brow at him, before lowering her drink. What's he gawking at? Oh. Setting her bare shoulders back a touch in subtle defiance of the mockery she knows will be forthcoming, the woman offers her best impression of brazen nonchalance, before returning his silent toast. Then she returns to the initial unspoken question, pointedly looking from the knight, to the windows; expression quizzical. What is that?

Likewise having been distracted, she starts a little as the young man beside her lightly touches her elbow, gently directing her focus back to whatever discussion is now holding sway at their table. With an easy, apologetic smile - maybe this courtier thing isn't so hard after all? - Esyld murmurs a few words and dutifully listens to the latest tale being drawn out for a rapt and steadily drinking audience.

Suddenly a noise like a freight train roars so loudly it almost covered up the sound of breaking stone.

Tristan, having never heard a freight train before, tilts his head and exclaims, "Goddamn, it sounds as if a ship full of powder heading to Venderos just decided to catch fire and burst apart. Something seems to be very wrong. Elaida, do stay close to me." He reaches over and takes her hand into his.

Dawn lets out a curse and rises from her seat, "Oathbreaker! Tornado. And a bad one." The crashing of stone, the noises like a freight train. OF things being wihpped through the air and smashed down hard to the ground.

Any answer that was forthcoming from Elrick to his younger sister is cut off when the monstrous sound of solid stone structure being torn down, the t'Tremaine Heir immediately on his feet and moving to make sure that Amara stays at his side, "Don't leave my side, Amara." For now, he does not move from where they are at their table, eyes watchful and worried at the sound that he has not heard before.

And that's it. Vorian's on his feet, stepping back from the table at the sudden noise. He doesn't waste time looking to see what anyone else is doing, simply setting himself into motion. Ignoring the startled comment from the knight he's been speaking with, Vorian makes his way toward the Head Table. He's not running, but he moves with a smooth, determined, stride. Unless he's stopped, the t'Maren knight goes right to Gabriel's shoulder, standing behind him and shifting his attention to the windows. "Time to be going, I think, m'Lord." His voice is raised slightly, over the uproar from without.

The noise is no longer just a steady turn in the background, and Emilia does give her sister a look as it turns into the sound of a great sea kraken trying to take a few bites out of the building. And when the hint of breaking stone is found in the mix, the great beast is succeeding! "I am of thinking we should be of going now." Even if her words are likely drown out by the giant castle eatting Kraken.

"Oh, absolutely. Credit where it's due." murmurs Dalmer, in regard to Gabriel's showing throughout the tourney. But her attention is distracted.. and rightfully soo, as it turns out. That sudden howling rush from outside and the reactions of those around her has the blonde likewise rising abruptly to her feet. Not in the manner of some swooning damsel, either. A look goes toward Darren but.. well, he can look after himself. Frankly, she swiftly decides she might be better placed here, should the older woman she's been speaking with need her help.

Amara's eyes go wide at the insane sound that roars outside..or was that inside as well. Looking quite frightfully to Elrick and she is quick to nod to him. Though it does take her a few second smore to actually get to her feet. "I won't," she agrees very quickly. A hand moving to the table to steady herself as her head turns to figure out just where the sonud is coming from. "What…is it…Elrick?" Her big brother knew everything, right?

Nodding to Vorian, Gabriel stands up, reaching out to take Alina's hand and to offer Mina an arm. "We should be ready to depart the hall if need be. I… I am not entirely sure what's happening, but I doubt it's going to be good." He takes a second to put the last piece of steak into his mouth though. Can't let good steak go to waste.

Leaning in over against Dalmer, Dawn Bazan's voice grows tight, "TOrnado. We'll want to stay away from the windows. If possible get to some of the sturdier parts of the castle. If the weather leads to a mudslide.."

Esyld finds the whole dramatic leaping to her feet thing is rather more complicated, when you've layers of skirts engulfing your legs. So she's a little slower to rise than she would have liked, in the wake of that horrendous sound, steadying herself with one hand atop the table and stepping out over the bench. Bloody dresses! Gathering fistfuls of the fabric, lifting the hems free of her feet at least - woefully, she's still wearing her riding boots beneath - the mercenary promptly abandons her newfound friends at the table without a second thought, her sights set on Alina and her mother as she strides across the flagstones toward the high table. Bold, for a commoner. But something is very wrong and her place is by the side of Lonnaire's ruling family. A wry glance flits toward Gabriel as she catches him scoffing that last mouthful. Men.

Manfred rises to his feet, his deep voice booming. "Away from the windows! Quickly! We need to get deeper into the castle!" Servants, looking panicked, start gesturing towards the main doors to the Great Hall and moving in that direction themselves.

Alina rises to her feet, helping her mother up. Mina does take Gabriel's offered arm. Mina looks grim. "Tornado, Gabriel. It's a windstorm that can shatter buildings and knock down castle walls." Alina looks a little green at that.

The far wall of the Great Hall between the windows suddenly cracks down to the foundation.

Raimond Giraldi rises from his chair, not terribly alarmed, but certainly focused. He glances towards where Dalmer and Dawn are, and moves towards them, "Ladies…might be best if we do as the archduke says." Darren had already been on his feet and moving towards the Archduke to see what the man was going to suggest. When the crack happens, Raimond's eyes do widen a bit. "Damn…it is a bad one, isn't it? Thought those clouds looked a little too green for comfort."

"We need to get further in," agrees Vorian with Manfred's cry. He turns, taking a moment to offer Esyld a quick, mirthless, grin. "Shall we dance?" Even at this moment, it seems, the t'Maren can't quite take the world around him seriously. And then he's trotting toward the nearest inner door, looking over his shoulder at the sound of that wrenching crack. Not much time. He pushes the door open, then positions himself on this side of it, preparing to help guide people through. "M'lord!" he calls back to Gabriel, on the off-chance the man missed where he's gone.

"It's…" Elrick begins to answer though he isn't exactly sure of it himself, only that the sound is rather ominous and destructive. Hearing someone call it a particular word, the t'Tremaine doesn't recognize it but he does see the l'Saigner bodyguards moving into action, one hampered slightly by her chosen outfit. Only when Manfred calls out in a commanding voice does Elrick reach down to firmly take his sister's arm, "Amara, you heard His Grace, we must hurry. Let's go, do not let go of my arm."

With Mina on one arm, and Alina on the other, Gabriel begins walking in the direction that Manfred has indicating. His pace is hurried, but he's not outright running. Panic at this point would only lead to further issues. "I am following you, Vorian. Lead the way."

Tristan hearing something about getting away from windows and going further into the castle just reaches out, grabs Elaida by the waste and starts hurrying as fast as he can, following people who look like they know where they are going. "Come on Elaida, we need to make sure we get to safety. Come, come." He keeps hurrying her along, his face looking quite concerned.

"A what..?" Dalmer looks bemused, though she wraps an arm around Dawn's waist without hesitation as the woman leans against her. Well, it doesn't matter. Questions can come later. Meeting Raimond's gaze, following the booming command from the Archduke, the tall blonde simply nods in firm assent. Waiting for a suitable gap in the press of bodies heading for the doors, she guides Dawn out after her in a surprisingly strong and steady hold. Following the Giraldi's look toward the wall, she pauses only long enough to stare at the impending destruction. "You've seen this before..?" The question is softly-spoken, but audible enough as she starts for the door before Raimond, glancing the other way to see where Darren's gone.

Thad sets down his knife at the noise, his beef mostly eaten. He looks to Ariane and rises from his seat as the far wall. At the least he positions himself between the wall and his wife. From what he knows of engineering, he frowns and begins looking for where to go from here. Seeing where the others are headed, he leads his wife in that direction.

Dawn getting up, quickly, Dawn Bazan gives a nod, "All, follow the Archduke into the castle." The elderly woman's voice is firm, curt, and she goes to quickly check her ever-present Healer's Bag over by her side then as she gets up to follow, checking at the others then to make sure that they're going along, following after the rest then as Dalmer wraps her arm around her to help her along, Dawn stabilizing herself on the Paladin. "Yes." As to whether she has seen it before. "And not something I wished to experience again. One this bad.. Help make sure that none are injured by glass or other projectiles as we go in."

Amara eyes dance wildly about at the chaos that seems to be errupting about the hall with everyone getting to their feet. And that sound. "Yes…yes..I heard. Away from the windows." When the wall itself cracks right between two windows, Amara gasps! "Elrick, the castle is breaking!" Her free hand raises her own skirts to hurry where ever Elrick leads.

Mina has Gabriel, Vorian has the door.. Esyld, having fought her way through the throng headed in the opposite direction, simply falls into step flanking Alina, quite prepared to shove anyone out of the heiress' path, should they be foolish enough to block it overlong. The quip from her fellow t'Maren earns him a withering look.. but there's no sharp retort. She must be worried. Has anyone ever seen Esyld scared? Probably not.

There is a blink as Clara looks up from her own bit of socializing. But…it is only for a moment that the young Tracano princess stalls. For she starts to move, almost before her Lancer guard has to escort her. She heads for the direction that the Archduke has indicated, her face shifted from the friendly demeanor to a grim mein. The princess doesn't look scared…not yet. But she is definitely not playing around now.

If it is possible, the roaring gets louder. The stained glass of the windows shatter, exploding inwards towards the departing nobility. Rain blows in practically sideways, and napkins and other lightweight things fly around, many getting sucked out the windows. The crack in the wall expands.

Lead the way. Vorian nods sharply to Gabriel at the instruction, waiting to make sure the l'Saigners are at the doorway before he abandons his post there, turning and pressing further into the castle just before them. There is another fleeting glance toward the cracked wall and the windows as he departs.

"Fallon will have got them under cover," he murmurs, more to himself than to the other l'Saigners. He glances along the hallway, then nods and moves still deeper into the castle, preparing to act as crowd-control as the crowd grows thicker. He looks perfectly blank, glancing over his shoulder back at the l'Saigners frequently. And then the windows explode and he picks up his pace, calling back over his shoulder. "Around the corner! Quickly!" It seems his strategy is to put as much stone between the family and the flying glass as possible.

Quentyn Bazan and Dixon Rosendal just sort of seem to casually stride up alongside Elaida and Tristan, and while neither of them are armed or armored, this being a party and all, somehow they seem to have acquired shields, even if they bear l'Faust colors. Shields which they bring up at head level as they flank Tristan and Elaida, to block flying debris as they move.

Not surprisingly, Alaina Cassomir isn't far behind, doing much the same for Clara (and likely by extension Emilia).

Emilia was already on her feet with the first sounds of the sea kraken attacking the castle. Now with a turn of direction to actually go with, Emilia is making her was along with the rest of teh guests towards the appointed door. Her skirts seem to give her no trouble, but with the edge of ethereal grace going on, she doesn't /look/ hurried, even if she is moving easily with the frantic crowd. That is until that window shatters and all hell truly breaks free within the hall as rain and wind set everything into motion. Including a hefty goblet that slams into the side of Emilia's head and has her stumbling and falling behind the pace that Alaina has set for Clara…and by extension Emilia.

When the actual chaos of nature erupts in the form of shattered glass and breaking walls begins, Elrick immediately attempts to shield his sister from possible flying glass and debris. His feet does not stop moving though, almost as if battle training is forcing him to move instead of cementing in place in fear. Even if he is afraid of this natural terror that has decided to target the castle, the t'Tremaine Heir will ensure that his sister remains safe. "Amara, keep your eyes closed and keep moving!"

"Not quite like this….and not this close." Raimond comments to Dalmer, looking perhaps a touch more pale than usual and bringing an arm up in at least a partial gesture to shield his head and eyes from any flying debris as he moves to follow the crowd, albeit, keeping apace to make sure the aged Dawn gets out along with everyone else. He's lost Darren in the mix, but his half-brother can take care of himself.

Tristan might be incrediby concerned for Elaida's safety, but being in such life or death circumstances, well, it gave him a bit of a bounce. He wasn't excited to find himself in this mess, but… he glances over at his wife, thinking that if they made it out of this alive, he would be try to spend a while enjoying life to its fullest. He's also not totally blind to the efforts of Quentyn and Dixon. "Thanks, you two will have a great night out on the town when we get back to Sunsreach."

Amara screams when the wall cracks open and the glass shatters, changing the world in an instant. The shock has her stopping and then stumbling after Elrick as he keeps moving and him having that hold onher arm. Thankfully she stumbles into him with his shielding attempt. His battle training helping her utter lack of it. She clamps her eyes closed at his order, leaning into him with a frightened squeak…or five.

Dawn looks up, making sure that the royals are being escorted. She takes a quick, hard breath. Then holds it just in case as they move along quickly. Swearing in her mindscape then as she is held and tugged along by Dalmer as she looks; not panicking, but making sure that there's no heavy debris collapsing inwards towards them.

Part of the wall half-collapses, and is half dragged away. A swirling windstorm of destruction is visible outside. Lord Sir Artis t'Perrini, who was one of the last to be out of the room as the nobles press the doors and push deeper into the castle, lets out a scream of terror as the wind lifts him and sucks him out the hole in the wall.

More stone is lifted away and shatters as the Great Hall disingrates…

"Emilia!" The shield that Alaina had liberated from somewhere wasn't big enough to cover both Clara and Emilia completely, which allowed that goblet to strike home. The princess turns to Alaina, as the onset of true fear is visible in those wide eyes. "Alaina! We must get slow for Emilia!" There isn't a negotiation, as Clara is already darting towards the stumbling Emilia. How far she gets depends on her guard Alaina Cassomir, who is wrapping her arm about Clara's waist…ready to drag the princess if she needs to. But Clara is bound and determined to help Emilia, one way or another.

Dalmer ducks instinctively at the sound of shattering glass, ushering Dawn along with a little more urgency now.Still, she keeps talking, if only to distract herself, or her companions. "I've heard of it happening.. I suppose I've been fortunate to avoid witnessing it first hand for this long eh?" Noting the presence of shields up ahead, the Paladin inwardly curses herself for not having attended in full armor. Oh well.. if wishes were horses we'd all be.. hm. As the crowd surges forward and panic threatens to take hold, the young woman grits her teeth and shoulders her way by a few stragglers, glancing aside to Raimond. She knows him only vaguely, through Darren. But.. oh no.

That scream prompts her to look back, even as they're almost thhrough the door.. and she sees the staggered young woman, the princess being held back from reaching her. Bundling Dawn rather unceremoniously into Raimond's side, the Paladin backtracks abruptly, struggling to keep her own balance and instinctively staying low as the detritus in the hall swirls around. Surely one of them will get to her in time?

Dawn goes to brace along over against Dalmer as she watches the man yanked away, "Bloody Oath!" As she's shoved forwards then towards Raimond, the woman cannot help but let otu a chuckle, "Apologies." She braces her hand over against hte wall as best she can, using it if needed to anchor herself as she goes to keep on moving. The fate of the poor Lord yanked out into the windstorm first and foremost as the group tries to go in deeper as she looks behind, trying to assess each person then for injuries as the group goes along. If she can putting her arm around Raimond or someone near him to stabilize herself. "Be safe!" A quick call sent out to Dalmer in passing then as she goes to rescue others.

The scream from behind them only makes Mina's expression more grim as the l'Saigners push deeper into the castle, the roar of the storm still drowning out most everything else. "Follow me," the woman says shortly. She grew up in the Ostvor castle, after all, though it has been years since she's been back. "Down this hallway, it doesn't have windows," the duchess commands, one hand firmly in Gabriel's arm, trusting him to be dragging Alina quickly if need be.

Blindly following after Vorian and her charge, Esyld steadies herself momentarily with a hand braced to the wall, not long enough to fall behind. And she doesn't offer so much as a glance back in the direction of the screaming. All the important people are ahead of her, in her opinion. Well, maybe not Elrick. But she's content he can handle himself. And she can't bring herself to wonder about Corvin. Not yet. He'll be fine. Probably sleeping through the whole thing. Yes.

A hand flies to her head as she stumbles, the window and rush of people not aiding Emilia's chances on keeping her balance. But somehow she does. Managing to duck the next bit of flying debris that tries to get her head and Emilia actually gives it a glare, a rather dark looking glare. Until Clara's voice hits her…in a different way. Shaking her head and stepping to catch back up, managing,"Of sorry, forgot to of duck." Fighitng against the uptick in wind,"Of go, I am coming." Fluttering a hand, sort of as the wind pulls it around more, at Clara (and Alaina). A hand trying to hold her skirts down as they threaten to become sails and yank her out after that poor Sir t'Perrini.

Gabriel follows Mina, Alina in his other arm. If he has to, he'll pick her up and carry her over a shoulder. "Good, good." He murmurs as they near a hallway without any windows. He'd heard the scream. He hadn't seen what happened, but he wondered about it. This was turning out to be one helluva trip. "Almost there Alina, stay calm."

Raimond says, "Fuck!" A bit of uncharacteristically coarse language from Raimond Giraldi as he watches the wall disintegrate and some poor bastard get sucked into the maelstrom outside, "Pardon my language." Raimond says to Dawn not really apologetically, as he slips an arm around her waist and forces an encouraging smile, "Let's just keep our heads low and get to someplace more sheltered, eh?" He casts a glance after Dalmer, but well…he's apparently got a charge, and the woman seems intent on her path. So he moves along with the rest of the crowd…much of which is no doubt trying to move much more quickly now, so he's basically interposing his body between Dawn and those that would otherwise be jostling or trampling her, and he's not afraid to throw an elbow or two if people threaten to topple the pair of them.

The howl of Sir Artis t'Perrini can be barely heard above the chaotic roar of the monstrous storm that had descended upon them, Elrick catching a glance of the terror that was on that man's face. That only spurs the t'Tremaine on as he continues to pull his younger sister along, luckily deeper into the fortified structure. With the Duchess's words to follow, that is what Elrick does, relying on those that know this place the best. When a lady in a green dress, Dalmer, moves past him, he frowns and calls out, "You're going the wrong way, the Duchess says to head deeper down the hallway!"

Dawn goes to brace herself over on Raimond, and she laughs softly, "I've heard coarser. Appropriate given the circumstances." she moves ahead, along with him and keeps her arm wrapped tight around his waist. "And apologies for being a burder." She looks ahead, even as the group is gestured towards what is uspposed to be a safe place. She takes a breath and lets herself move more quickly. "And thank you Lord." SHe is half hopping at this point to not stumble.

Mina's command comes as a relief to Vorian, who's been doing his best to drive the group deeper into the Castle. He drops back to the side as she takes the lead, looking like a sort of sheepdog. His gaze flits aside to Esyld as they move, and he offers her another brief grin. But it's a forced smile, and he looks as though he's trying to impart some reassurance that he doesn't quite feel, himself. The chaos behind them is ignored for now. There is a brief struggle as someone, running, threatens to plunge into the cluster of l'Saigners and Vorian shoulder-checks them back out of the way. His features return to their dutiful blankness, eyes on the pressing crowd.

Upon hearing Emilia, Alaina does exactly what her cousin says. Alaina heads further in the castle, following the Couvieri nobiity. And…she drags Clara with her, at least for the first few steps, as Clara herself stumbles due to the strong and undeniable pull of the Cassomir Lancer. Clara does manage to get her feet and matches the pace of her protector, herself hidden behind that borrowed shield, as the pair head inward. Though…there are more than one or two quick glances behind, to ensure that Emilia is still close behind.

Amara half-screams-half squeaks to hear that howl of terror mingle with the winds that yank the man out into the windy abyss. Thankfully, with her eyes closed she does not witness the horror with her eyes still quick clamped shut as her brother ordered her to do. "Oh the One, make it stop!" It is an almomst certainty that fear would have imobilized the younger t'Tremaine if not for her brother pulling her along and giving her something to ground to.

Well, the girl's on her feet at least. But she's not moving particularly swiftly, given the carnage serving as a backdrop. Bracing one hand upon the nearest table, Dalmer gesture Emilia in the universal manner of 'get a move on!' toward both herself and the doorway, before the current of the moving crowd draws her back into the main throng. Spying Dawn and Raimond up ahead, she fights her way in their direction. Being awkwardly tall does sometimes have it's advantages.

Raelyn follows behind Emilia, making sure her sister is in front of her at all times and not lost, following the others into the interior of the Castle in admist the chaos, half-sheilding her ears from the wind and sound of demolition. She moves, but with attention behind her as well to make sure no one else is left behind.

Dawn goes to offer her hand out as she sees Emilia being pressedin her general direction, offering it over towards the girl i she needs it to hold along to even as her hand continues to wrap around Raimond's waist then as she quickly glances at Dalmer, "Is everyone out that you could see?"

"It will pass soon Amara," Elrick tries to reassure his frightened sister with a firm squeeze on her arm as he continues to guide her in the direction everyone is moving, to where Duchess Mina is leading them, "The Duchess is leading us to a safer place, where the storm cannot touch us." This is something that the t'Tremaine Heir actually fears, though he would certainly never admit it, especially not to his sister right now. To face something that he is not able to fight, to cut down, it leaves him feeling helpless.

"I don't think we have time to double-check!" Raimond pretty much has to shout just to be heard over the roar, though he does give a somewhat relieved glance to Dalmer before pressing onwards towards (hopefully) safety.

The girl wasn't particularly sturdy, so it was a true fight against the wind. And the skirts trying to become sails hadn't helped. But having her sister give her a swift push from behind certainly helped get Emilia moving in the right direction again. A thin line of blood trickling at her temple where the goblet had clocked her. A nod going to Dalmer, at that sign. Yes, moving! A hand moves at Clara when Emilia catches one of those glances back to show she was indeed back there. Ever stoic, see! Even if her eyes might be looking a bit…dark.

"..in a manner of speaking. Less haste, more speed!" This is flung toward the last few through the door, before Dalmer reaffirms her focus on the healer. "Go on, get along." The Paladin lingers back, enforcing room for the elder woman and the Giraldi Lord to move on ahead of her. That roaring is, indeed, almost deafening now. No time for small talk. A momentary glance catches Raimond's, thought she dismisses it and hurries along with them into the depths of the castle, one hand keeping her skirts aloft enough to allow for a brisk almost-run.

There are more screams coming from various places in the castle, where the outer sections are being torn away and servants in those sections are sucked out into the storm. Manfred, Evelina, and Osric are not far behind the l'Saigner party. Manfred calls ahead, "It looks like you still remember your way around, cousin Mina." His tone is forced lightness.

Mina glances back over her shoulder and nods grimly to the Archduke, as she pushes a door ahead of them open, coming into a ground-level study that lacks windows. "Alina, sit," the Duchess gestures towards one of the couches. Alina, eyes wide, does as her mother demands.

Mina turns to Manfred. "Not to tell you how to do things," she says with a half-smile, "but the study and the servants quarters along this ground level here is the safest I think until it blows over."

Manfred nods, an identical smile on his own lips— the family resembalance obvious. "I was thinking much the same." Orion and Alivia Doran are right behind the Archduke, who looks to them and the duchess of Lonnaire. "Please, your Highnesses, Your Grace…" and he glances ot his wife, "dear, stay here. Osric and I will see to the disposition of the others."

Osric nods, already moving out back into the hallway. "The rooms along this side of the hallway," he booms, "should be safe to stay in until the storm passes!" And he begins directing traffic to those rooms.

Amara squeaks out an,"I hope so!" As she continues to try and put one foot foreward after the other. Hazzarading to open her eyes somem when it seems a smidge quieter and Elrick speaks of being guided to a place to where the storm can't reach us. "It torn open that wall…is there a place it can't reach us?" Entriely unsure about that after seeing a wall get broken right open!

Unless ordered otherwise, Esyld is simply not straying far from Mina and her daughter. What else is she going to do, help other people? Drifting toward Alina, she flits a worried glance over the dazed looking blonde, then simply settles to standing at attention near the couch. It's rather less intimidating, in a dress. There is, however, the ghost of a smile as she watches the Duchess in her rather unfortunate element.

Right. Good. Yes. This is exactly what Vorian has been hoping to find, and he flashes Mina l'Saigner an impressed smile, relaxing somewhat as he turns back to the door. There's two noble families to protect here, after all, and the t'Maren knight sets himself to one side of the stone frame, as though he intends to bodily hold back the wind. His hand keeps reaching down to his hip, grasping air, causing a frustrated expression to cross his features. Though a sword seems like the least useful tool a man could bring against a tornado, he's certainly feeling the lack. A comfort item, perhaps. His gaze passes back over the room periodically, counting heads.

As the group makes thier way along to safety, Dawn Bazan breathes easier, even as her hand presses tightly to the wall as the group is directed towards the servants quarters and she looks around, trying to take stock of those who were in the dining hall and those who managed to make it this far. She glances behind her back, and then over at the man escorting her, bowing her head in thanks.

Though she seems to relax somewhat, now that the immediate danger has been escaped, a hand extending to suggest one of the rooms nearby to her companions, Dalmer's looking about herself uneasily. Searching for someone in particular. Someone who isn't exactly difficult to place in a crowd, even one so maddening as this. A worried frown is cast over Dawn's head toward Raimond, the Paladin halting abruptly where she stands, to the consternation of the knight behind her, who collides solidly with her shoulder. She ignores him.

"..where is he?" Of course. She's not going to be caged in anywhere until she knows that Darren's alright.

Haste is made, as best as Emilia can. Managing to catch up with Clara and Alaina amongst the crowds of people, with Raleyn close on her heels. Not being particular about which room in the end, but they do keep along with the Princess and her Lancer…or friend and cousin as it were. "I of think they have managed to out of do themselves in seekign to make this the most of memoirable of tournaments." Trust in the deadpan humor of a Cassomir to show up. Let's blame it on the head wound.

"Where is who?" Raimond quirks a brow over his shoulder at Dalmer as she slows, even as he helps escort Dawn into one of the Servants' quarters, "I somehow doubt there's much of the Great Hall left for you to go look for whoever it is." He pauses in the doorway once Dawn is safely inside, "Come on, you're in other peoples' way."

Once she's put over in the zone of safety, Dawn Bazan takes a breath to steady herself. She then glances over, and goes to start checking anyone around her for signs of injury that are obvious, going to take out her healer's bag from her side then after a few moments to steady herself.

One Above! The frantic shuttling of nobility into the servants' quarters has made the hallway quite literally a maze of bodies and tattered fabric. Under Alaina's watchful gaze, Clara herself seems rather lost, even in the middle of the throng. Hands pushing, voices echoing against the stone walls….it is near maddening. A voice, sounding like a l'Faust, but damned if Clara could actually see, urges the princess to turn to her right. The wall of bodies parts, just enough, to show a doorway and a hand upon Clara's shoulder gently pushes her inside….

…where Clara finds herself in a study. With the Imperials…and the l'Saigners…and the Queen Mother. This…is unexpected. Clara blinks in surprise, offers a rather quiet greeting, and finds a corner to gather herself quietly in, with her ever-present Lancer guard close at hand.

"We're deeper into the castle, Amara, definitely safer." Elrick says as he continues to follow the group that Duchess Mina is leading to safety, seeing that they are closer to the foundation and in the part of the castle that no longer has windows. Certainly sturdier against sieges too, may have the same affect as the tornado. "No more shattering glass, and these walls appear sturdier, nothing to fear, Sister. We are going to be temporarily staying in one of the safer rooms here." Servant quarters… situation calls for it, only thing that would make things even more interesting is to enter one that is also occupied by some Southerners.

Obligingly stepping closer to the wall by the doorway, clearing the path for the others still arriving without even thinking to bristle at the 'order', Dalmer's eyes linger a few moment's more on the faces passing by before turning back toward the Giraldi heir. "..Darren." Her voice is soft, the better to disguise her concern from any who might overhear the discussion. Looking now to the other side, forced to take another half-step toward the threshold of the room, she adds, "..did he come by already?" Suddenly chill - or at least suddenly aware of it - she wraps her arms about herself and rubs briskly at her upper arms with her hands.

As he passes Dalmer, just having guided Lord Sir Elrick and his sister Amara into a room, Osric overhears Dalmer's quiet concern for the Duke of Eastfield. "Duke Darren's been found a room already, and he's fine— I can bring you to him once the storm has passed." He gestures to the room where Raimond and Dawn had just entered along with a small handful of others. "His room is full, but I can let him know you're fine, Lady….?"

"He was ahead of us, up near the Archduke." Raimond pauses as Osric helpfully provides the knowledge of Darren's whereabouts, "Thank you, my Lord." He takes a step back into the quarters, beckoning for Dalmer to follow, at least once her conversation with Osric, such as it is, is concluded.

It was easy enough for Emilia to keep dibs on where Clara and Alaina move to, passing up other rooms to keep up with her friend who had been worried for her. And well…friend! It means Emilia is only moments behind Clara in passing into the library, past the guards at the doors. Only a mild blink at who else seems to be in the room. With the storm raging and trying to kill them all…well makes for interesting company. Simply drifting after Clara some more as she finds that quiet corner, murmuring,"Are you of alright?" this being directed at Clara first before her sister and cousin.

"..Dalmer. But you needn't trouble him with that." Relief is starkly evident across the blonde's features, and she offers a warm smile of gratitude to the l'Faust heir. "My apologies.." she gestures him to continue on with his appointed duty, with the good grace to look a little sheepish, "..thank you for letting me know, m'Lord." Clearing her throat and smoothing her skirts, the Paladin at last drifts into the room after Dawn and Raimond, casting a last mildly curious glance back at Osric. "Sorry." This one goes to the Giraldi, who's been awfully patient with Dalmer, thus far. But if anyone knows the depth of her devotion to the man, it ought to be his half-brother.

"Well now. This is cozy. Lady Dawn, are you alright? All in one piece?"

"It does seem…quieter," Amara trying to block out the screams that were heard as they reached the halls where they are in. Not that she is moving an inch from her brother's side. Not. One. Inch. "Yes…Safer." Trying to talk herself into believing that. Even if the walls are getting quite the look even as they are entering into the room they get motioned into.

In the quarters, Dawn takes a breath then and goes to lean back. She looks over at Dalmer, "Yes, I'm fine." She gives a half curtsy then to the other woman even as she relaxes, unpacking her bag. "That extends to you as well. Please forgive me for any lack of formalities." SHe is unpacking her Healer's Kit. "I have some bruises but am fine. Do either of you need looked over?" The old lady looks up.

A tall, bald-headed man standing at the side of Prince Orion Doran turns his dark eyes towards Emilia for several moments, his brow furrowing a touch, but after several moments, he looks away, and remains nigh-motionless next to his charge. A woman in a similar uniform stands beside Alivia, equally silent and motionless.

Making sure that Emilia and Clara are both alright, Raelyn nods to Devlin, whom she also brought with them and she then closes the door most of the way, keeping it open slightly in case someone does need help, and to keep any communication going. Like her sister, there is a stoic, reserved look about her features. "How long can this last?" She asks herself, and those about her, almost rhetorically.

Elaida and Tristan are guided into the study by Manfred. Elaida's eyes are wide, but her hand is on the small pouch hanging at her side with healing herbs and wraps.

As the t'Tremaines enter the room, it looks like there are already a couple of individuals within. One…seems to be laying on the spartan bed, rather lazily, while the other is seated in a chair close to the end of the bed, his feet (for it is definitely male) propped up on the corner. "Well, leave it for a storm to liven up the place, Darren." The voice is familiar for both Elrick and Amara….as it belongs to a certain Southerner knight. The head turns towards the door…and the expression on Leander's face is one of both relief (when seeing Amara) and dread (when seeing Elrick right next to her). In any case, Leander adopts a casual tone and turns to Darren. "Looks like we have company. Might want to share seating, brother."

"Did you see Raimond out there anywhere?" Darren's eyes are closed and his tone isn't exactly fearful, but there's a note of concern in his voice nonetheless. At Leander's notice, he opens his eyes and glances towards the doorway, moving to sit up, and then rise from the bed to clear space for Amara, "Sir Elrick. Lady..Amara, isn't it?" Darren gives a faint nod, moving to lean against a patch of wall and otherwise seeming nonplussed about the situation.

Entering the study, Tristan studies the other occupants. His eyes linger on Alina for a moment, but he quickly takes Elaida in his arms and begins murmuring calming things while stroking her hair soothingly. "We are safe now, beloved. It will be over before you know it." His voice is shaking just a little bit.

As Elaida and Tristan enter the room, Vorian offers a grave bow to the royal couple, stepping out of the way of the door. And then he returns his attention to the hallway outside. The longer this goes on, the more strain is beginning to show on his features. It's not fear, though that's certainly present, but a growing frustration with his own helplessness. Every now and then, he turns and wordlessly looks over the others in the study, as though he's afraid that someone might just…vanish, if he doesn't keep checking.

Alina reaches up and slides her hand into Gabriel's, looking a bit pale as the sound of the storm still rages outside. Mina stands beside the couch where Alina is sitting, her expression calm as she observes the Royal Lancers and the Imperial Silent Sentinels the closest.

And here she'd thought the tornado would be the worst of it. Still standing near Alina's couch, Esyld manages not to groan aloud as Manfred guides Tristan and his new bride into the study. On the plus side… Corvin's not here. That really would have been awkward. But err.. how to proceed?

Chancing a sidelong glance toward her Lady, the mercenary then ventures a quiet greeting toward the shaken looking newcomers, inclining her head toward Tristan. "..Majesty." With the clarity of hindsight, she suddenly wishes she'd thought to 'rescue' the bottle of strongwine from her table.

There's certainly a fair bit of silent sizing up going on between Lancers and Sentinels, though nobody seems more on-edge than the situation calls for, and most of the guards' attention is on their charges.

"A few bruises, I think." Raimond notes to Dawn, "But nothing you should need to waste supplies on. Save it for after the storm passes, I think. I suspect there will be several in need of aid then." Raimond moves to sit down on the floor, now less, back against a cool stone wall, "I suppose all there is now is waiting."

Stepping into the servant room that they were assigned him, Elrick hears a familiar voice speaking, one that he wishes is drowned out by the sound of that tornado. Then, his eyes betray him more than his ears, not only does he spy Sir Leander in the room but also Sir Darren. For a moment, he almost decided to do an about face and walk right back out into the storm itself if he had to. Instead, a mask that is often worn in court is quickly placed over his face, one that is schooled in diplomatic fashion. Whatever disbelief, anger, frustration, or any other emotions are hidden beneath that passive expression, "Sir Darren, Sir Leander, good to see that you both made it here to safety. No beast can match what that storm threw at us here." At the mention of Raimond though, the t'Tremaine Heir actually offers a quick update for the two Southern Knights, "Before entering, I heard news that Sir Raimond Giraldi is safe as well, with a few others in another room." For now, Elrick's hold on his sister's arm remains, not wanting her to dash to Leander to embrace the other man. Romantic reunion… Denied.

"I…am alright. But what about you?" Clara reaches up, her fingertips fluttering just above the temple, where a trickle of blood is evident. "You took a rather nasty blow." There is a frown from Clara, as she reaches into a pocket and extracts a handkerchief and tends to the wound, right there in front of everyone. "You should sit down." She glances over to Raelyn and Devlin both. "I am glad both of you are well and sound."

"HEALER!" A voice calls out, as some of the last stragglers from the Great Hall come into view…in this case three l'Faust guardsmen, one of whom is limping behind the other two…but the other two guards are carrying between them Duke Cesare l'Corren, who is bleeding significantly from a gash on his bald head and seems at best semi-conscious." One of the guards is practically babbling to Osric, "He stopped to help us get Sergeant Wilhelm out from under a fallen timber, Milord, but something struck his head just as Willie got clear."

"Not a scratch." Dalmer musters a reassuring smile for her fellow healer. But her slender arms stay wrapped about her and.. well, sitting quietly doesn't seem to be her plan. The blonde immediately takes to pacing the room, back and forth across the flagstones. Still, she does nod absentminded agreement with Raimond's suggestion.. right as a call comes from out in the hallway. Her dark eyes snap toward Dawn and she slows her stride. Well, who's going to take the first of many?

Elaida's head snaps up and she extricates from Tristan's embrace, bringing her healer's kit. "I'm a healer," she says, pushing her way through the door and back into the hallway, her gaze already on the injured Duke.

Amara's eyes gets pulled from their intense and rather fightened study of the walls. Ones that were certain to crack open to chaos again like in the great hall. That scene forever searedinto her mind! As that familiar voice does cut into her frantic thought process. Relief clearly flashing across her face to see Leander. "Yes…yes…I am Lady Amara." Managing that much when Darren speaks and addresses them. Even if Elrick is that pilliar of Courtly expression-less-ness. Amara is clearly a frightened wreck. Who, to Elrick's relief no doubt, hasn't even made a twitch to move from his side, even with Darren so nicely making room for her on that bed.

That sudden shriek over from the hallway has Dawn Bazan looking up, "Forgive me Lord and Lady, but you are right. Now I must provide service to others as they have to me." She goes to quickly get up her bag together, and if not stopped as she hears the call over to get up to go out. "If you know any others who are skilled in healing, send them out." She moves out to otherwise head towards the hall with her bag in tow.

Vorian's head emerges from the study at that shout, and he gazes down the hallway, watching the Duke as he's carried to safety. His brow knits up as Elaida goes past, and he turns around to move away from the door. He doesn't quite hurry to Gabriel's side, but he moves quite quickly, leaning down to speak. "M'Lord.. Duke Cesare's been injured. I.. they're calling for healers."

"Ah Good. Thank you Sir Elrick." Darren replies to the update on Raimond, before casting a bemused glance to Leander, "He probably found the room with most of the pretty ladies in it, knowing him." He chuckles, mostly to himself, before leaning his head back against the wall, "These things usually don't last too long. Unless your Couvieri storms are worse than those we sometimes have on the plains in Eastfields."

Perhaps it is the feeling of eyes on her back, or just happenstance to check on her sister, either way Emilia looks back and does see the Silent Sentianal looking her way, or the way of the group. What of anything she thinks of it. Who knows. She manages a half shrug to Raelyn concerning the storm and how long it might last,"I am not of knowing." Emilia tries a faint turn of one of her smiles for Clara,"It is just a bit of a bump, but..I will of sit, we all should get of settled. We might be of her of awhile…least I am thinking from comments I of heard." Speaking softly amongst the small group. She does accept that handkerchief to deal with the bit of blood before moving to take a seat in their corner. Murmuring to Devlin,"I promise, I am of fine."

If there's one thing Dalmer has learned in battle.. it's that there's no rush to fight for a spot when it comes to healing. More will come. And so it's back to pacing, as Dawn bustles out into the hall. If they've need of her, no doubt they'll let her know. Unthinkingly and in a distinctly unladylike fashion, she sets to cracking her knuckles as she walks back and forth, her gaze becoming distant. What's she thinking of?

Hearing Vorian's words, Gabriel stands up and heads to the door. He sees the young Rivanan princess heading towards his father. Had she mentioned something about being a healer? He thought so. "Let us hope the healers know their business." There is worry in his voice, but he knows better than to get in the way of healers.

Tristan watches Elaida run out of the room. Sighing, he begins to nervously wring his hands together.

Osric directs Cesare and whichever healers follow after to one of the very last empty servants' quarters, before moving to join his family in the Study.

After the surprise of finding both Darren and Leander in the room has more or less worn off, replaced by simmering displeasure beneath his visage, Elrick begins leading Amara to the bed that the Duke of Eastfield had kindly vacated for her. "I'm afraid Lady Amara and myself have never been through one of these… 'storms' to be able to tell you one way or another." Fortunate for them that Hartswood is not a Barony that is plagued by such severe storms. He then turns to his sister as they near the bed, which is more like a cot being that it is fit for a servant, "Amara, sit and rest. As you can see, we are safe now and you were most brave, the way you walked with me and the others."

Leander's feet leave the end of the bed, as he shifts to stand. With a feline grace, he pulls himself to his full height, reaching behind him to snag the chair that he was recently resting upon. "The both of you look rather stiff. Perhaps you would like to sit down?" With that, he swings the chair around and places it in front of Elrick, just a little off to the side. Granted, Leander doesn't actually approach Elrick directly. Instead, he more or less bends at the waist, placing the chair in such a way so that he is bowing to Elrick…or (more likely) Amara, before he rights himself. "And yes, your Grace…knowing Rai, that is exactly what he did." The formal address was given for a reason, probably…but Leander doesn't elaborate on it.

"You'll wear a furrow in this cold stone floor if you keep that up, Sir Dalmer." Raimond notes to Dalmer, smiling just a touch amusedly, "You're a fighter. You know it's best to save your energy when you can." He gestures to the empty chair and the nearby bed, "Relax. The time for moving and helping and whatever else we'll need to do will be here soon enough."

Going out into the Hall, Dawn Bazan takes a breath and then looks towards the Duke. She moves to head in the direction to any injured that are indicated otherwise, moving to get her bag and other things ready to start tending to any injured. Assuming unfortunately there will be plenty as she looks for the other healers going out to the hallway to try and evaluate if they have enough injured to have to setup triage or not to tend to them.

Princess Elaida frowns as soon as she sees the cut on Duke Cesare's head, already pulling a clean cloth from her bag as well as a vial of bloodstop. As the men lay the Duke int he bed nt he servant's quarters, the princess wipes the cut and lets out a sigh of relief. "It looks worse than it is," she says. "He'll be disoriented for a bit after he wakes, but the cut is shallow and just bleeding a lot… head injuries do that." She blots some of the bloodstop on the cut to start the clotting process.

"He's taken worse on the battlefield," Vorian murmurs to Gabriel, staying at the man's side. "And I'm certain the finest healers are with him, M'lord." A sympathetic glance is cast toward Tristan as he speaks, acknowledging the departure of the Prince's wife. Perhaps he should've grabbed her, but that seemed… undiplomatic, somehow. He looks over to Esyld for a moment, absently reaching up to run a hand through his beard. "Some night," he says gravely, shifting over to her side and looking over the other bodyguards in the room.

Amara does only move again when Elrick puts her into motion again with leading her along towards the servant's bed that is in the room. "Yes…I have never been in such a storm like this." She blinks after a moment and her eyes go wide,"You have…storms like /this/ often?" It is a horror beyond horrors..this idea that storms like this would plague a place regularly! Half remembering some manners when a mild curtsey is given towards the SOurthern Lords, not to long after Leander delivers that chair and bow in the process. "I…don't know if I can rest after that. But I will try, Elrick." She tries to force something of a smile as she does sit onto the cot-like bed.

One less bodyguard now, as Quentyn Bazan wordlessly followed Elaida out of the room, though he keeps well clear of her work unless asked to assist in some way.

"I'm restless." replies Dalmer, by way of apparently good-enough explanation. But she does, once again, acquiesce to the request; relenting to taking a perch on the edge of the cot against the wall and folding her hands primly in her lap. "It's not in my nature to be still. Especially in.. well, I've never actually been in this precise situation, admittedly.." Her words trail off and the blonde simply sighs, settling her gaze on Raimond. He'll have to serve as her distraction. "You err.. you fared rather well in the jousts, Lord Raimond." The formality is back, now that things aren't so frantic.

Shouts are heard, but are unintelligble through the storm, and the stonework of the castle. Raelyn, and those with her remain in the room, quiet and waiting out the storm with anticipation for the event to be over. The aftermath will be worse than the storm itself, perhaps.

Dawn dips her head respectfully at Elaida as best can given the cirumstances, and then gets her things out to ready for the injured who will be coming, looking about for someone to help her get organized and direct, and goes to whisper a quiet prayer before getting ready to set to work.

Darren glances over at Amara, nodding just a bit, "We have a few every year. Most aren't nearly as strong as this one, though. Quite a sight, to see them moving across the plains, whether big or small. Just…best admired from as great a distance as possible." He notes with a touch of dark amusement. He does quirk a brow at Leander, seemingly a bit perplexed by his sudden formality, but he doesn't really comment on it, "Rest is good." The Duke unceremoniously slides down to sit on the floor himself, "Your brother will keep you safe, Milady. And I'd imagine if you stop to think it over…you'll find yourself quite ready for a bit of a nap soon." You know…when the adrenaline wears off…and case in point it almost looks like Darren's getting ready to doze himself.

Raimond laughs a touch sardonically, "I did, and I'm thankful for it, but somehow I get the impression most people won't be remembering much about this Tourney beyond Sir Gabriel's victory and Ostvor Castle nearly getting razed by a whirlwind." He shrugs a shoulder, seeming a bit amused over it all, "But at least it wasn't a boring feast."

Though his younger sister may claim that what has just transpired will keep her wide awake, Elrick is just waiting for the adrenaline from fear to fade and Amara will most likely pass out in exhaustion. Once she has taken a seat, the older t'Tremaine watches as Leander attempts to make nice by offering the chair, "Thank you, Sir Leander, but I do not mind standing." Just in case something unforseen does happen yet again, he prefers to be on his feet for it, "I don't think we should be staying here for too long." Any thoughts or comments about the older Giraldi brother and his potential luck is not offered, the t'Tremaine certainly not exactly on the most friendly of terms with the two Rivanan knights. Even being this cordial may be a surprise to some. Hearing the reassuring words from the Haldis, Elrick may be quite surprised coming from the other man, who is from a House that was pretty much the sworn enemies of the t'Tremaines, after what they did in the Thirty-Year war. But a nod of thanks is offered at least, a small one.

Amara's eyes open rather wide when Darren does confirm they have storms like these with some frequency. The One Above! Inspite of her comment about not thinking she can rest, but proof of Darren's words, Amara is soon doing just that not long after she is settled on that bed. Her energy zapped after the horribly frightful experience! But she has her brother and Leader to look after her, so surely she is safe now! Oh, and that southern Duke.

The chair remains empty as Leander leans against the wall, opposite the bed, where the younger t'Tremaine sibling now sleeps. And…to Leander's credit, he doesn't go any closer. Not with Big Brother over there, at least. There is a slight nod, as Leander comments "As you wish, Sir Elrick." No other words are offered. Instead, the younger Giraldi just stands there, as well, though considerably more relaxed perhaps than his northern roommate.

Working with the l'Faust healers that are giving directions, Dawn Bazan assists as best she is able in dealing with the injured in the hallway as the storm passes, helping as best as she is able along with anyone else in tending to the hurt.

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