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A Donkey Knight's Tale

Donkey Knights! A party game frequently featured in a number of Hadrian's parties, which he has opted to tone down a little for a more 'family friendly' audience - even if there will still be copious amounts of drinking and revelry. Donkey Knights pits teams of 'knights' against one another, with each knight imbiding copious amounts of natural (and possibly unnatural) enhancements prior to the game beginning. Donkey Knights often follows a rip-roaring party hosted by the former Duke. Drink, be merry, then each team of knights will mount up reverse on their faithful donkey steeds, blindfolded and inebriated, the object is to bring down the fabled dragon atop their cantankerous steeds!

Prizes will be awarded to the winning team!

If interested in participating as a Donkey Knight, please send word in some form to Hadrian, IC or OOC. This way I can generate a random list of teams to compete against! Rules for Donkey Knights are fairly simple and will be explained at the beginning of the event!

Date

Aug. 25, 2017, 8:30 p.m.

Hosted By

Hadrian

Participants

Nisaa Ian Arcelia Wash Valerio(RIP) Cambria Mercedes Orazio(RIP)

Organizations

Location

Arx - Ward of the Lyceum - Mazetti Manor - Courtyard

Largesse Level

Grand

Comments and Log

Valerio

Donkey Knights! Of course only something this gaudy annnnnd inebriated could come from Haaaaaaaaaaadrian! E's got me so drunkenenend up. I think I'm slurring my writing!

Cambria

I have many things to write about in my journal this week, but for this particular event, I must give it its own separate entry. My husband, Hadrian, hosted one of his legendary parties. His words. Elegantly titled 'Donkey Knights,' myself and several others managed to drink enough to convince ourselves that mounting a donkey and lassoing a 'dragon' was a great idea.

It was, actually, the best idea. I had more fun than I can remember having in many months or more. Not only because I won, though that most certainly was a delightful bonus, but because everyone around us was so filled with a genuine happiness, that it was hard not to laugh, and to smile.

With us were a few faces I had never seen before, namely, Nisaa Whisper and Inquisitor Mercedes Valardin. Perhaps my comportment was not as stellar as I so often prefer, I may nevertheless note down here and now that I was and am extremely pleased that both women decided to join us at the manor. Also in attendance were Lord Ian Kennex, Lord Wash Kennex (though I was unaware of this until the night's end...), my uncle, Marshal Valerio, Countess Arcelia Navegant, and, yes, my friends, even Father Orazio.

After the dragon was laid low, many of them remained at the manor to continue to drink and chat. Again, what pleases me most is that everyone seemed so joyous. Maybe it is the drink that has left me feeling so girlishly sentimental, but there you have it.

PS: It was the good Lord Ian (AKA, the princess of the sea) and his favor that gave me the grace and the glory that made it possible to win.

PPS: Lord Wash is quite probably the most ingenious man I have ever met, above and beyond even Hadrian.


Ian has joined the A Set of Tiered Teak Benches.

A day of drinking at Mazetti Manor, though the guests aren't permitted beyond the Guardian's Gallery and the statue filled chamber. It's a day of revelry, merrymaking, drinking, eating, and who knows what else could take place among the seemingly hallowed hall in all their gloomy glory. Much to the chagrin of the robed, armored, and masked Guardians who patrol about or simply stand as silent, seemingly gliding sentries who are now tasked with the project of herding a number of drunken cats. It's late in the afternoon when the Marquis of House Mazetti calls out, "DONKKEEEEYYYY KNNIIIIIGHTTTSSS!!" within the solemn halls, causing it to echo all around. Gradually the knights are sent out to the courtyard and a number of servants stand ready as armsmen in order to prepare the Donkey Knights for their solemn duty. To make abject fools of themselves. There it is, while the participants are armed in their padded attire and given their makeshift lances with the tips covered in fluffy, wool-stuff bags that Hadrian Mazetti slurs out the rules...

"Now...", he pauses as though he seems prepared to be sick, then continues on as it passes, "...if you get knocked off of your donkey by another Donkey Knight or you just fall off because you've had too mu...sh...mush...much... to drink? You go take another drink!" Oh, the cruel, cruel punishment. Hadrian gestures toward a table laid out with an assortment of wines, spirits, and other beverages of an alcoholic nature.

"It is legal to attempt to dismount your fellow Knights... all in the interest of forcing them to drink more and, well, hehehehe..." he chuckles as though the idea of further drinking seemed both ludicrous and hilarious, "... finally. THE DRAGON!"

Hadrian gestures far and wide toward the pillared entrance of the manor itself. Through the pillars and making their way down the steps of the manor toward the cordoned off section of the courtyard comes a rather short individual; a child or perhaps an exceptionally short adult who stands just above four feet in height. A crudely made dragon outfit, with spines along it's back and a molded dragon's leering maw trundles down the steps toward the play area.

Ian has been around for a while now. He came in with a full bottle of Maelstrom rum, and he has yet to finish it, but he looks like he intends to. The focus in his eyes is largely undimmed, despite the amount of alcohol he's already put away. A grin flickers around his mouth when the dragon makes its appearance.

Mercedes may seem far too sober for this, but she's had a few rounds at least, and is no expert on horse, or donkey as it may be, back. She adorns herself in the provided padding and gets ready.

Sir Ham, the knight made of meat enters with a swagger, already armed and armored for the event.\ It's clear from how he is walking that he cannot see through the mask very easily. He salutes the crowd, in the general direction of the crowd anyway. With a whip of the lance meat and bread flies off the tip of his flexible wooden lance into the crowd.

The Marquessa of House Mazetti, that usually oh-so-austere woman, has foregone all notions of propriety, such as they are in the Lyceum, to better prepare herself for the evening's festivities. Which is to say, she'd been drinking at least since dinner. Or had it been before? What was several drinks among friends, anyway? Dressed in riding leathers, which, given their pristine state, must be entirely new, Cambria has one of the maids assist her in shrugging out of her cloak and into the provided padding for the game. She grumbles as she does so, a list of complaints, given the tenor of her voice, though largely unintelligible.

"What in the actual fuck," Cambria suddenly declares...announces? One may assume she's gawping at the dragon, but oh no. Oh no. What has caught her red-rimmed eyes is none other than Sir Ham. She points, takes a few unsteady steps forward, then looks to Hadrian, glares, then smiles stupidly. "One of yours?" She ends up asking with a giggle.

It might not be very clear how the Whisper ended up in the courtyard of Mazetti Manor for today's festivities, but here, she is. She holds a glass of wine in her delicate hand, wrapped up in an umbra cloak as she watches the merriment all around her. Sitting on a teak bench, she laughs quietly, verdigris eyes following the movements of the Knights that take to the field, and then with curiosity to the petite dragon. It is difficult, however, to not stare at the porcine man. As if gazing at him for too long requires her to do so, she takes a sip of the wine.

Ian smiles. Really smiles. Treasure it, people, because when Sir Ham comes in, a huge grin plasters itself across his face. Then he follows up on that performance with a real laugh, not some coughed out strangled thing. Humor of a flavor other than wry, bitter, or dark lights up his electric blue eyes.

"If Donkey Knights wasn't a time honored tradition, steeped in lore and prestige...?" Hadrian slurs out quietly as he rocks forward on his feet...then back on his heels...and then forward again before he points toward Sir Ham, "...I'd just declare you the winner and we'd get straight to the org...wait, no, family friend. There will be no orgy to follow, okay... right..." However Cambria's question draws a quick shake of Hadrian's head, which causes him to grunt and put his good hand onto the Marquessa's shoulder to steady himself. Once he's composed himself again, his hand drops away and Hadrian continues on with his answer, "Not one of mine, no, but I'm about to make him the Sword of House Mazetti...", Hadrian slurs on.

Hadrian then turns his attention to the dragon, who makes it's way into the play area. It becomes quite obvious that the individual inside the dragon costume may not be precisely, legally, able to see out of the costume as they walk directly into a post that supports the ropes that creates the playing field. After their brief post-to-dragon-face incident, the drunk ducks beneath the ropes and trundles out into the playing field.

Hadrian nods smartly before he calls out, "Donkey Knights! Mount up and prepare for glory! Elysia awaits!" Has someone ever died playing Donkey Knights? We don't talk about Baron Russo.

"Oh, yes," Hadrian adds after a moment, "and do mount backwards. That's a key rule of Donkey Knights. You don't mount forward, you mount in reverse. So you're looking at some ass... we'll neglect the blindfolds. This time."

Some men never learn. Some people you should never listen to or take advice from. When it comes to alcohol and alcohol based games, Valerio has decided he should never listen to the Niece's encouragement. Until the next time most likely. Valerio is being prepared as a donkey knight and still probably has not imbibed enough. His gaze keeps turning towards the Guardian statues. Well. He can knock a few off in theory before he gets himself properly shitfaced. The guard is set, the Champions are around. "What poor fool did he talk into that thing?" Valerio notes loudly as the Dragon trundles along into view. A double-take and then there is Sir Ham. "Now seeing pink Oiliphants from endin' yer drinking I understand. Seeing a Pig-Man when you're just getting going?" Blinking the surprise away he turns his head to fix his one-eyed look towards his Niece, Cambria. Reckoning, his eyebrows thunder at her briefly. Not that shes going to notice for a while anyways. FInally a bark of laughter from the old Marshal and he takes a drink from a wooden cup, which is hurled in an arc in his Nephew-in-law's general cranium-location after the orgy slipup. Now he has to mount a donkey in reverse. As he does so a wicked grin of glee. "Hadrian is that you?" Yes. He is talking to the donkeys rear. "How did you get over to me so quickly?"

Sir Ham is no cavalier. His first attempt to mount the donkey just leaves him spinning in a circle around the donkey as it tries to get away from him and the smell of meat. By shortening up on the bridle he forces a leg over the donkey and promptly falls over on the other side with a greasy squish. He might also be drunk. The third attempt is better, using the flimsy lance as a third leg.

Ian leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. His cane is stowed very close to him, because he's not drunk enough yet to be willing to risk someone tripping over it. He takes a long pull from his bottle like it's wine instead of rum, and grins with abandon, like a person with normal feelings.

Mercedes climbs onto her burro, unsteady on the dimutive beast.

No, Cambria most certainly does not notice Valerio's look. She is far, far too busy attempting to clamour on her donkey - an utterly fabulous white one that she specifically requested for herself, and wouldn't you know it, Cambria gets what she wants. There is grunting, there is cursing, there is several, no doubt hilarious attempts to mount as though she knew what she were doing...Until...

Eventually...

Cambria essentially rolls herself halfway onto the brave, noble, entirely bored-looking creature. She mutters, in a voice not quite one of defeat but not quite of shame, either, "Push me up." But to whom does she speak? It is anyone's guess. By the Abyss, it's anyone's game.

The pigknight, now mounted, shows no ability to direct the donkey's direction. It just ambles away, hoping to get away from the smell. He balances himself on the ass's ass with one hand while tucking the lance under his other arm. "En garde beast." He says. "Wait. Where did the dragon go?"

"I only have one good hand," Hadrian remarks to Cambria. Was he saying she was too heavy for him to push atop her noble steed with one hand? Probably. Valerio's mention of his name though draws a sharp look. Whatever was said though must be forgotten as Hadrian's attention quickly drifts back to the game itself. The dragon trundles around in the open space, making high pitched sounds to simulate the deadly monster that it no doubt represents, "rawr Rarwr Wraraf.....they aren't paying me enough...rarwr..." - the dragon may be a touch drunk itself.

Hadrian awaits the last of the Donkey Knights to be mounted and then gives a nod toward the awaiting servant-armsmen, "A trophy, prizes, and riches awaits the Donkey Knight who brings me that dragon alive!"

That seems to be the beginning of the game as the ropes on one side of the playing field are lowered, permitting the Donkey Knights and their irritated steeds to enter the playing field.

"You never know what one good hand will do..." Cambria tells Hadrian, now 'mounted', that is, clinging tightly to the mane of the donkey and momentarily looking a little green-faced. "Until..." She squints, looking towards the benches. "WHO WILL WEAR MY FAVOR!?" Cambria calls out, much, much more loudly than is necessary, even for this raucous affair. Having managed to straighten up, and then find a 'lance' shoved into her hands, the Marquessa waves it about at Nisaa and Ian. Though her question was not exactly clear, maybe her intent was!

Ian pushes himself to his feet and ambles over towards Cambria, leaving his bottle of rum behind. There's something a little bit off about his gait, but other than that, he's walking pretty normally, just taking the occasional glance at his feet and the uneven outdoor ground.

Someone wearing Smiling Pig Mask checked dexterity at difficulty 25, rolling 7 lower.

Mercedes coaxes her donkey into motion, trying to figure out this lasso thing as she bounces and jostles her way into the arena.

Cambria, with a sort of drunken majesty, lowers her lance towards Ian. Presumably so he can tie his favor around it.

Nisaa watches all of this with amazement and soft, quiet giggles covered by a dainty hand. When Camrbia waves her lance towards herself and Ian, she looks to the man. "I will, unless you are wishing to?" she says in a rather exotic accented voice. Though she is sitting on a bench, she does so with grace, her posture straight, though she keeps her cloak wrapped about herself like a blanket for some sort of comfort. Ian rises and heads to the Marquessa, leaving Nisaa to nod and continue to watch the show.

Sir Ham doesn't find a bridle, and he makes the mistake of seizing the donkey's tail and yanking in an attempt to get more than an idle response from the beast. He succeeds with a kick from the donkey that throws him ass over teakettle onto the ground as the donkey trots away into the ring with the dragon.

Someone wearing Smiling Pig Mask says, "So that's what that does."

Ian produces a plain handkerchief from one of his pockets and ties it securely around the lance. Sailor's knots. That thing's not going anywhere.

Cambria checked dexterity + athletics at difficulty 35, rolling 55 higher.

Ian returns to where he was sitting, and flashes Nisaa a grin. "Contractually obligated," he explains, as though that made any kind of sense. He stumbles once on his way back, catches himself on a pole, and keeps careful watch of his feet after that. Once he's back in his place, he takes up the rum again.

Mercedes watches Cambria's skillful attempt, and figures she can do no worse. She shoves her heels into the ass's loins. The beast, in a crazed attempt to flee the attack, charges in a straight line right at Cambria while Mercedes, teetering left and right and bouncing all over, attempts the lasso.

Mercedes checked dexterity + athletics at difficulty 35, rolling 16 lower.

Hadrian checked luck at difficulty 35, rolling 26 lower.

"You do me a great honor, my good man," Cambria says to Ian, still making use of a most regal tone of voice. It seems as though Cambria would have saluted both Ian and Nisaa, but the lance is simply too heavy for her arm and she only grunts. "Ride, wa- ah, uh." She glances down between the half-perked ears of the white donkey. "Ride, FRIEND!" And donkey and rider are off, with Cambria reaching for her lasso and in an act touched by the gods...Twirls it through the air as though she has any damned idea as to what she is doing, and then...and then she throws it! It arcs like a dream, looping around the 'dragon,' to Cambria's girlish screech of delight. So happy is she, in fact, that she hardly even notices as Mercedes nearly misses -her- with her lasso!

Nerceds bothces the throw, nearly lassoing Cambria instead! She grabs at the donkey's neck to get it to veer away from a collision course, a near miss!

Ian watches, grinning again between swigs from his bottle. He applauds Cambria's success, looking genuinely impressed.

Valerio checked dexterity + huge wpn at difficulty 15, rolling 15 higher.

Valerio checked dexterity + huge wpn at difficulty 25, rolling 5 higher.

Nisaa nods politely with a smile to Ian. She seems to fight the urge to rise up and help him when he stumbles, though she watches him more closely until he retakes his seat. Leaning towards him, she asks, "are they meant to be riding on them in that way?" She has clearly never been to a Donkey Knights tournament before. She laughs when Sir Ham's donkey takes off after kicking him off, then bites her lip as if it might be impolite to do so. She looks at her glass of wine. "Perhaps it is making more sense the more that is drinken... urr. Drank. Drunk?" The Eurusi dancer seems unsure which word to use.

Cambria has rolled a critical success!
Cambria checked command + animal ken at difficulty 25, rolling 7 higher.

Dripping meat and broken toothpicks behind him, Sir Ham stalks over to the table and tilts a full tankard of ale down the open mouth of his smiling pig mask. Quite a big of it douses the mail. Then he takes a lasso from a helpful assistant, forgetting his lance where it fell. He then takes off in a gristly run and throws himself at the donkey, draping himself over it's back and struggling to get upright facing either direction.

Aemily - A Black Hound, 1 Saik Guard, 2 Iron Guardsmen, Amethyst - A Clever Raccoon, 2 Navegant Marines arrive, following Arcelia.

The benefit for only having one eye, is missing some of the pandemonium around him. He realizes belatedly due to booze that Cambria has managed to lasso the dragon already. Valerio is a loving uncle, who delights in the lessons of life he and she teach one another. So of course she needs a new lesson, lovingly taught. That of betrayal! He manages to get the donkey lined up just so and makes to whallop his niece with his lance, theatrically bellowing out. "RE-VENNNNNGE!"

Someone wearing Smiling Pig Mask checked dexterity + athletics at difficulty 30, rolling 16 higher.

Cambria seems entirely oblivious to Valerio and his intent on giving her a very important life lesson. Instead, she is busy looking incredibly smug. Patting her donkey's neck, she murmurs some encouraging words to her stalwart companion and...

Clomp, clomp.

A fateful two steps out of the way of Valerio and his traitorous lance.

The Donkey Knights, all four of them at the moment, are in the midst of their match. Mazetti Manor looms cold and gloomy in the background of the raucous affair. An individual, a little over four feet tall, dressed in a crudely made dragon costume trundles around the play area, a lasso currently bound around the historically inaccurate(probably) mythical creature. Sir Ham, in all his porcine glory, struggles with his donkey until he's finally able to get mounted onto the ass's ass again. Mercedes seems to be doing among the better of the knights, right after Cambria's expert lassoing and no doubt lucky veering of her donkey out of Valerio's path. Then there's Valerio, screaming like a one-eyed drunken madman bound to get revenge on whomever took some parts of his body. Maybe it's the one eye, but the Donkey Knight and his loyal steed barely miss unseating Cambria from her own donkey.

Hadrian however has acquired a bottle of wine. No time for glasses, of course. He cheers on the contestants while they all either mill about distant from the dragon, likely drunkenly trying to figure out the meaning of life or where they are at the present time. Regardless, a full day of day-drinking and excessive partying has culminated in the sport of Donkey Knights - time honored and majestic in all it's glory.

Ian sits in the stands, grinning between swigs from a bottle of Maelstrom rum that was full, once upon a time. (Once upon a time being a few hours ago.) The humor in his eyes is real, good natured humor, free from the wry, bitter, or dark undertones that are usually there. Valerio makes his unhorsing attempt, and he laughs and sets the bottle down to applaud. Wasn't he supposed to be favoring Cambria? Maybe he's applauding her donkey having the sense to get the hell out of the way.

Atop his mount, the pig knight casts his gaze left, then right, and without trying to sit up, too drunk for that he waits until the spinning donkey is in the optimal position and he hurls the lasso at the 'dragon' again. It doesn't take too much to make that loop fall next to Cambria's. He holds the lasso with both hands, trying to pull the dragon toward him as the donkey moves away. "Now you want to move slowly again. Stupid beast!"

Cambria checked stamina + animal ken at difficulty 25, rolling 1 lower.

Arcelia apparently has no idea what she is walking into today. She got there and was let in easy enough but her tired eyes take on a hint of confusion as she looks on like she has no idea what crazy mentor of hers has decided to do today. She pauses only a second, reaching down to smooth down the warm cotton, soft silk, and light chiffon that makes up her dress. Then she makes her way over to Hadrian silently and stands near with that same look of confusion in place though it is slowly being replaced by amusement.

"I got this," Cambria states with determination, brows furrowed as she stares intently at the 'dragon.' "I. Got. This," said a second time. The Marquessa begins to dismount, and maybe she would have done so with some modicum of success except that her donkey didn't get the memo that he was not supposed to stay still. In a...painfully slow, really, shift in fate, the donkey takes another step forward even as Cambria is extending her leg out this way and that as she attempts to find the firm ground. "No," she whimpers, knowing what was coming. "Please, no," and she collapses to the ground with an, "Oof!"

"Normally the game's played in the nude... I think I started that rule because typically speaking, everyone was already naked *before* the match started, so it just didn't seem sensible to have everyone sober up, remember how to put their boots back on, and then let the game begin," Hadrian speaks aloud. Perhaps it's to Arcelia upon her arrival at his side. Perhaps he's speaking to someone else that she can't see. Who knows, really. He attempts to fold one arm over his chest, but stops when he realizes the other on account of the crude brace and bandaging won't be moving to join it. So, he's left to awkwardly and drunkenly stand there with his arms at his sides.

Ian takes note of Arcelia's arrival, and motions her over. He gestures with the bottle of rum. Look! He has alcohol! And possibly also an explanation!

Mercedes checked dexterity + athletics at difficulty 25, rolling 9 lower.

Mercedes checked dexterity + athletics at difficulty 15, rolling 11 higher.

Mercedes fights the donkey's neck, nearly wringing it to death, to get the steed back around and on track. It bucks, and charges the "dragon" again, screeching to a halt right as Mercedes throws. The extra oomf of falling foward into the donkey's neck again sets the lasso's course right. It sails around the dragon's horn and pulls taut.

Nisaa watches on with wide eyed innocence and interspersed bouts of giggling. When Hadrian speaks about the traditional method of taking part in this game nude, she asks, "on a donkey? That is seeming far too uncomfortable."

"Just toss a horse blanket over it's back and it's fine. Done it dozens of times, it's a rush. Especially when you're on...", then Hadrian trails off as he takes a long drink from his bottle of wine. Perhaps to make himself shut up.

Valerio checked dexterity + athletics at difficulty 25, rolling 4 lower.

Hadrian checked luck at difficulty 35, rolling 24 lower.

Arcelia takes a step over to Ian and nods her head respectfully to the man. "Lord Ian, please. Tell me what this hilarious scene I've walked into is all about tonight? I fear I came over to speak with my mentor and instead have walked into an interesting happening." SHe is smiling though like she's already enjoying herself.

Ian offers Arcelia his bottle of rum. "You've missed quite a party. He's never told you about Donkey Knights?" He asks.

"Oh come on!!" Valerio calls out as his revenge falls short all due to some lucky ass moving. He tries to knock his legs back to get the donkey to turn a little more. Being on a donkey facing backwards is a little rough for the one eyed. Then there is Cambria's brush with the cosmos and gravity. Being the kind and caring relative he immediately calls out his concern. In the form of a cry of amusement "Haaaaaaaaaaaa!". Then he's wobbling a bit and down two lasso's to his none. he whips out the rope in a frantic motion maybe he'll get dragon, maybe he'll get someone else. A miss on all counts occurs. "That

Someone wearing Smiling Pig Mask checked dexterity + medium wpn at difficulty 30, rolling 2 higher.

"Oh come on!!" Valerio calls out as his revenge falls short all due to some lucky ass moving. He tries to knock his legs back to get the donkey to turn a little more. Being on a donkey facing backwards is a little rough for the one eyed. Then there is Cambria's brush with the cosmos and gravity. Being the kind and caring relative he immediately calls out his concern. In the form of a cry of amusement "Haaaaaaaaaaaa!". Then he's wobbling a bit and down two lasso's to his none. he whips out the rope in a frantic motion maybe he'll get dragon, maybe he'll get someone else. A miss on all counts occurs. "That'll teach me not to assault."

Sprawling on the ground, Cambria stares upward blearily. "Come on, woman," she grumbles to herself. "You can do this. You can be..." Grunt. Grumble. She sits up, holds her hands to her face for a moment. "A hero." A faint pause. "Or something." In an agonizingly slow process, the Marquessa gets to her feet, she takes several sideways steps that nevertheless take her before the benches so that she may helpfully inform Arcelia, Nisaa and Ian...

"If you're exceptionally drunk," and she hiccups. "You hardly even notice the chafing. Eugh," she frowns. "At least until the next morning. Now. Rules is rules," Cambria begins to shamble off in the direction of the table bearing drinks. And maybe other things. "A drink, a drink, a drink..." And maybe she gives her uncle a bit of a glare when he laughs at her. Maybe. Definitely.

Nisaa ducks for some reason, as if she is afraid one of the lassos might accidentally fall upon her at the teak bench instead of their intended targets.

"I'm afraid not, no." Arcelia laughs and shakes her head in reply. "But then... the Marquis and I's relationship is one founded in professionalism. It has grown from there, of course, but he was my Duke and my Mentor and now I am thankful enough to call him one of my closest friends." She smiles. "We often talk of politics or make messes with chocolate cake but I don't believe we have ever talked about Donkey Knights."

Hadrian can be heard calling out, vaguely in Arcelia's direction, "I'm a man of mystery and allure, okay?!?". His words are slurred. Quite a bit of slurring.

Mercedes checked dexterity + dodge at difficulty 25, rolling 19 higher.

The casually strolling donkey brings the Pig Knight to a convenient item, a discarded lance. He scoops it off with one hand and prods at Mercedes erstwhile locomotion with it. He's lucky the lance is just for show or it would be impossible to wield one handed in that manner.

His offer of rum turned down, Ian goes back to working on finishing the bottle by his lonesome. "It's pretty much what you see. Drinking, donkeys, they're trying to lasso the 'dragon'. I think Sir Ham was a surprise guest, though." A pause. "I guess you can't explain to me how people end up naked at his parties? I've been drunk under the table plenty of times, and the one time I lost my clothes, it was because my brother's an ass."

Mercedes shouts, "You'll have to do better than that, oh alointed one!" She giggles, the teetering of her ass and the rounds of beer getting to her.

"This is my dragon! I Sir Ham of Saulot...oof... will have my vengeance. For it... oof... was my brother, Sir Boars that the dragon is responsible for... oof... killing." As he is 'riding' his donkey on his stomach, he doesn't have the best wind for speaking, but he's in the spirit of the thing still.

Hadrian checked charm + diplomacy at difficulty 55, rolling 9 lower.

"It's 'cause you're one of them Islanders," Cambria calls out to Ian, just after she hisses and sucks upon her teeth due to whatever liquid she'd just imbibed. "Live a few years in the Lyceum," mind, her words are slurred and mumbled and not altogether the most easily understood. "And you'll take any chance you get to get out of your clothes. Now where is, ah ha! Friend donkey! Come here this instant, we've a dragon to slay!" The donkey does not respond, forcing Cambria to go after it herself. It takes her a few moments, but the Marquessa is now back in the game.

Arcelia offers Hadrian a smile and nods her head. "Of course you are but I would also add in, in a very loving way, the word... strange." She nods her head a few times in agreement with her own words. "Very peculiar but that's part of your charm and a reason to adore you more." She laughs more as the current bit of entertainment continues. At Cambria's words Arcelia motions to her very revealing dress so Ian can see what she means. "I was leaving the Thrax Ward... Good reason to put on fun dresses. I can't very well wear this to visit Duke Grimhall or Duchess Tyde, for example. They would kick me out of their homes, I'm sure."

Orazio is late, it's true. Perhaps he wanted to be very sure that teams, or mounts, or whatever these things require have already been chosen. Either way, he does arrive, with Templars in tow. They are dispatched to go enjoy themselves, while the Legate snags a hot drink from a passing server and wanders into the cleared area. He's about to try and greet someone, perhaps multiple someones, but the Legate catches sight of the person in the pig mask and just stops and stares. "...great gods," he says, ever so quietly. Staaaaarre.

There's a plethora of drunken individuals making merry within the courtyard grounds of House Mazetti's holdings in Arx. The robed, armored, and featureless masked Guardians stand nearby to ensure that the herd of drunken and otherwise inebriated cats doesn't escape into the general population. Hadrian stands off to the side, watching a man sheathed in pork products attempt to take down a person measuring out at roughly four feet tall, dressed in a crude dragon costume; is it a child? A small adult? Who knows! Hadrian is busy drinking lazily from a bottle, which he periodically raises to the gloomy winter sky and calls out some shout of encouragement or another. Arcelia's commentary on whether or not he's strange is met by a scoff, before Hadrian's attention returns to the party game underway. The dragon, at present, is thrashing about. Bound by a trio of lassos, which has clearly angered the little drunkard in the costume as a high voice shouts from within the costume, "Step off or I'll wreck your shit!" The dragon's certainly angry.

Ian sits in the stands (well, on the benches) with his cane stowed close to him and a bottle of rum in his hand. He's sorta talking with Arcelia, but mostly he's watching the show. And grinning. -Grinning-. Not sarcastically, or bitterly, either; this is honestly the smile of someone who's having a good time. His electric eyes are alive with humor. "The angry midget was a nice touch," he observes to Arcelia, having decided to leave aside the subject of Lycean nakedness for a time when he's less sober.

Nisaa is probably the most sober person in attendance, other than those who have just recently arrived. She holds a glass of red wine in her dainty hand, taking tiny sips on occasion, usually when her verdigris eyes betray some sense of confusion or astonishment at what is going on. "I think the dragon needs a raise of money."

Cambria checked strength + survival at difficulty 30, rolling 3 higher.

"HYAH," Cambria shouts to the heavens, her legs flailing against the sides of the donkey, her lance strapped across her back. She'd taken a lasso from some imminently helpful servant, and now she whirls it above her head like the gods' own slayer of miniature dragons. She manages to by some miracle, loop the unfortunate mythical (and angry), creature for a second time that evening, to an astounded whoop of glory from the Marquessa, who all but -flings- herself from the donkey's back to assault the dragon.

"Settle down, wee beastie!" She howls, more or less bullying the vile enemy with word and deed until, hair in her face, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy but triumphant...the dragon is laid low. Or, rather, tied in a bunch of poor quality knots. "I won!" She looks around, seeking out Hadrian, she points, she shrieks in unlady-like glee. "I WON!"

"He needs a drink," Ian opines to Nisaa. "Someone who can walk worth a damn should go take care of that." Oh, wait. Is Cambria winning right now? He sets down his bottle and applauds dutifully.

Orazio continues to stare as the Marquessa joins the fray. "While I cannot name exactly which divine laws this.../this/ is breaking, I feel certain it must be breaking several." Nonetheless, once the shock wears off, Orazio laughs, deep and warm, and shakes his head before he raises his free hand in a brief cheer for victory, and then wanders over towards Hadrian. "Marquis," a bow, "what on earth have you done to that poor individual wearing the...pieces of pig? Do they owe you a great deal of money?"

"Aaaww...I wanted the Donkey-Pig Knight to win," Hadrian bemoans Cambria's win, apparently. And he doesn't seem at all ashamed to support someone other than the Marquessa winning. Hadrian exhales a heavy breath and sends a subdued glare toward Ian, though it is soon forgotten or ignored as Hadrian takes note of his new best friend. He drops his bottle of wine at his side, which lands in the snow, ice, and grass. He throws up his good hand and waves energetically toward Ian in greeting to his best friend and imminent city-wide drinking companion. After that acknowledgement is paid, Hadrian steps out onto the Donkey Knight's playing field and lifts his uninjured arm into the air in order to signal the Donkey Knights, "Each of you performed ex..ex....." he huffs out a sigh before he spits out his words, "...damn well. I see some kinks in the system and I'll work those out for the next public holding of Donkey Knights. Now, to the orgy!", he raises a fist in the air as he spins about, as though preparing to lead a charge of debauchery. A pause however as Hadrian looks up toward the sky as though trying to read the words that course behind his eyes, then mutters again, "Er, no, no. Sorry. I..no...our winner, Marquessa Cambria Mazetti...only because she's lucky...best in show, Sir Ham! Honorable mentions to Dame Mercedes and Lord Valerio!"

The dragon, meanwhile, being tied down thrashes and fights in an effort to break loose from the lasso, but the dragon finds itself unable to do more than roll about on the ground as it shouts incoherently from inside the crudely made costume.

Hadrian's attention swiftly turns to Orazio whom Hadrian snaps his fingers and points toward before he greets the Legate of Concepts, "Big Papa Judgment, how're you...him...er, the dragon?", Hadrian whirls around to look at the dragon. Then whirls back around to look at Orazio as his neck cranes back in order to, at least in Hadrian's mind, take a few steps back from the Legate before he continues, "I don't even know who that is...I thought it was you...", Hadrian slurs back, sounding quite serious. Finally he calls out to Sir Ham, "You there! Unmask yourself so you can be properly recognized with the praise, prestige, and high fives that are yours by divine right!"

Mercedes quietly dismounts, her lasso still about the dragon, but that was all she managed. She smiles, offering an aside "good show" to the "dragon", and leads her donkey over toward Sir Ham to better catch the big reveal.

The Pig knight dismounts with a forward roll coming up short of regaining his feet. He staggers to his feet under the weight of his ham-armor. "Well fought." He adds, saluting Cambria. He pokes at the 'dragon' with the butt of his lance. "Vengeance will have to wait until next year."

The Countess Navegant makes her way over to Orazio when she spots the man. Arcelia has clothes on... sorta... her dress is very Lycene... flowing fabrics of silk and chiffon that leaves little to the imagination. She carfully goes to wrap an arm around her uncle and whispers into his ear.

Ian is sober enough still that his sharp eyes are keeping track of most of what's going on, and thus he notices Hadrian waving to him, and salutes him with the bottle.

Orazio checked composure at difficulty 15, rolling 24 higher.

For several minutes, Valerio is essentially just glassy-eyed finally. Then there is some blinking and a confused muttered. "Why am I up he- oh shit. Right." Unfortunately for him the brandy consumed tonight finally soaked through what he ate. He realizes theres some shrieking and noises over that-a-way. "Shit. I lost. Need a drink." He manages to dismount the backwards donkey by just falling over. Then theres Hadrian talking nonsense about an orgy and announcing.. oh wnners and participants. Slowly he clambers to his feet and waves to folks. His head cocks at a weird angle so his good eye can see his way to the alcohol on the sidelines. "Yes, who is our mystery pork?!"

Hadrian is overheard praising Cambria for: An exceptional showing at the First Inaugural Family Friendly No Nudity Donkey Knights Tournament. Sure, it was largely luck being with you, but even luck is commendable.

Hadrian is overheard praising Valerio for: The Great Betrayer. Sure it was during Donkey Knights Lite, but at least he had the gusto to do what must be done.

Hadrian is overheard praising Mercedes for: Humble in defeat, I imagine she'd be just as humble in victory. I do hope to see her be a Donkey Knight for an afternoon or evening again, someday.

"Next year? Sooner than that, I should think," Cambria mutters to Sir Ham. "Is that--" The Marquessa pales upon seeing Father Orazio, and after waving over a servant to help her to her feet, she brushes off the front of her padded vest and pushes her hand through her mussed hair in an attempt to look presentable. It fails.

Mercedes is overheard praising Hadrian for: Has there ever been a more generous, gracious host who also invents the best party games?

If Orazio hears what his niece says to him, his expression doesn't indicate it. He just smiles pleasantly at her, squeezes her arm briefly before unentangling himself and moving on. "I assure you, my lord, there is absolutely no chance that I would be clad in pork for any reason. Nor that I would do so well, if I were." He did not seem to hear 'Big Papa Judgment', and no doubt has spent a /great deal of effort/ to not hear it. His black gaze sweeps everyone, and the Legate laughs. "You all seem to be having a great deal of fun. I wish I could have come earlier." Ian is given a wave, and the Legate heads in that direction.

The pig knight holds out his lance for an attendant to take and lifts his hands to helmet, removing first the roast of ham, and then what turns out to be an actually high quality mask.

Cambria is overheard praising Ian for: It was your favor that gave me the power. I'll cherish it forever. I might even wear it to bed.

Hadrian is overheard praising Wash for: The hero we need, not the hero we deserve. Sir Ham will live on and have his revenge!

Nisaa stands up and applauds for all the participants. She is giggling a lot, then, with a glance around, she heads off to try to help the poor dragon loose himself from the lassos.

"I am just pleased to compete my Lord." Wash says, his normally thick hair smeared down onto his scalp with pig fat. "Sobriety is overrated, honestly."

Ian raises his eyebrows to Orazio when he comes over. Then Sir Ham removes his mask, and Ian applauds and lets out a whoop of encouragement. So that'd be another first.

Cambria is overheard praising Wash for: You. You are invited to every party we ever have.

Orazio is overheard praising Wash for: It takes courage to wear meat in public.

Ian is overheard praising Cambria for: My favored Donkey Knight. Of course she won.

Ian is overheard praising Wash for: I can't believe he actually did it.

Orazio is overheard praising Cambria for: For winning...whatever the Abyss that was.

Hadrian is overheard praising Orazio for: For not excommunicating me.

Orazio is overheard praising Hadrian for: The night is still young.

Cambria is overheard praising Mercedes for: If not for the fickle Donkey Knight Gods, I think you might have won. Good show!

Cambria is overheard praising Hadrian.



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