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A Worthy Challenge III

Dame Kyda Barron accepts those who will stand against her challenge once more.

Date

Feb. 2, 2022, 7 p.m.

Hosted By

Panic

GM'd By

Panic

Participants

Kyda Ian Terese Felix Corban Sorrel Aureth Norwood Oswyn Raven Mark Aindre Symonesse Sabella Monique Mailys Vitalis Caspian Titus Fortunato Giorgio(RIP)

Organizations

Location

Arx - Ward of the Compact - Sanctum of Genesis

Largesse Level

Small

Comments and Log


Steadfast, a dunskin stallion courser have been dismissed.

Bayberry, an Oakhaven juvenile bloodhound have been dismissed.

Bumbling Bees from a Clement bee hive have been dismissed.

2 Redreef Wardens arrives, following Griffin.

The weeks have passed, and still Dame Kyda Barron takes up her daily vigil at the Shrine of Gloria, ancient sword in hand, fully armored in her impressive alaricite emblazoned with the sigil of the Templars. She stands feet from the entrance, her shoulders squared, her chin tilted upward as a fresh flurry of snow drifts from the sky. The chill is clear, and her cheeks hold the evidence of such, but she does not seem inclined to delay. Even the weather will not stop her from her task. And so she waits.

Leaving the house and going places is hard for Ian in the winter. Not the cold, really, even though that's been known to bother other people in his family, but the snow and ice on the streets. Ian's footing is uncertain enough WITHOUT worrying about slipping on ice, especially since he can't really feel himself slipping. So he doesn't go out much, but this apparently merited an exception. He stands near a lamp post, his cane in one hand, and the other resting, seemingly casual, on said lamp post. But it's hard to escape the realities that 1) he's not moving from his spot and 2) he's found a place with a means of steadying himself should everything start to go wrong.

Terese aproaches Dame Kyda Barron, offering her the proper Templar rank greeting upon meeting her. "Dame Kaya Barron, would you honor me with a chance to accept the challenge you have set forth," she questions respectfully.


While he has delayed in his coming, Felix has cleared his schedule enough to make the trip, donning his own suit of plate and mail and bringing with him a diamondplate halberd, despite the hammer of alaricite hanging from the belt about his waist. There is a pause to incline his head to Ian in greeting, a murmered greeting and momentary whisper of something before he continues within. A similar greeting to the waiting Dame, though Felix does yield the first challenge to Terese, moving to make his own homage to Gloria and to await his turn.

Terese has joined the line.

Felix has joined the line.

Reedy, a King's Own aide arrives, following Corban.

Ian leans his head towards Felix, and whatever he says gets a sharp huff of air that passes for a laugh (or at least an expression of dry amusement) in return. He says a few words softly, and then, in a more normal speaking voice, asks: "Have you come to issue a challenge?"

Sorrel has joined the line.

When word spreads that there is to be another chance to challenge the strange Templar who has come to the City, Sir Corban is there again to watch. He spies the Bladesong and makes his way over towards her, giving his friend a hug. "Come to challenge, dear Sorrel?"

With her hands in her pockets where they can be nice and warm, Sorrel meanders into the area, singing something or other absently. It's a playful song, a bit jaunty like her hat, and she seems in a good mood. Her song fades into a merry little hum as she pauses to inspect Dame Kyda Barron, and then turns her attention to the Telmar King's Own. "Ah, Sir Corban!" she says with a companionable embrace. "I might have. I thought I wouldn't be available, but here I am. Shall you challenge?"

A woman steps forth, and Kyda's intense hazel gaze drops from sky to opponent, her lips parting to exhale a breath that takes form on the icy wind. "Of course. Tell me your name, and tell me you understand the rules of this challenge. First blood. This is no training center, and nothing will be held back." Her hands move around her sword, hoisting the impressively long blade up so she can step from her statuesque place of rest. "When you are ready, we fight there," she nods toward where others are gathering, and she will surely clear the space when the time comes.


Felix gives Ian a nod of agreement after making his initial devotions to the field and Gloria, leaving his helm hanging from his belt for now and leaning onto the pole arm. "Despite likely being far too soft from years in the forge and time in the Shrine." amusement coloring his own tone as he shrugs faintly before another low murmer is given.

Ian gives Felix a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Everyone's soft against an alaricite two handed sword," he chuckles.

"My name is Princess Terese Valardin and I understand and agree to your noble rules Dame Kyda. Thank you for the chance to be challenged by you, May Gloria watch and bless us both," Terese replies, she offers a respectful bow and prayer to Gloria before saying, "I am ready when you please," she states, taking a defensive stance and drawing her blade

When Terese speaks those words on Gloria, Kyda actually smiles. Or, the corner of her mouth quirks the smallest bit. So less a smile, more a subtle acknowledgement of the woman's efforts. "I wonder if word of me has traveled through this city. That is what I say to all of my challengers, Princess Terese Valardin. May Gloria bless you," she inclines her head and then takes the few long strides down to the snow covered street. Her steps take her in a wide circle, drawing the line in boot prints that will keep them from injuring any watching. In this, her gaze catches Ian, and there is a slow dip of her chin in greeting, but that is all - her concentration is on Terese finally, and she shifts her feet to take a stance, that two-handed blade they speak of lifting to level at the royal. "When you are ready, your highness. First blood."

Felix quirks a grin and gives a shrug. "Some moreso than others." though he both accepts and doesn't shift away from that pat. "Have you watched any of the other Challenges?"

A fight has broken out here. Use @spectate_combat to watch, or +fight to join.

Ian returns the greeting with a nod, but with the fight about to start, he's already looking like his mind is going towards that. His expression is slack, but his eyes move fast, watching the combatants square up.

"Ah, alas, I had my chance and did not succeed in drawing first blood from the Templar," says Corban to Sorrel, choosing that language over saying hr was defeated. "But I have come to watch others step forward and see if they might prevail. Such as you!"

Terese she circles around Kyda defensively trying to find an opening to strike, she attenpts to strike Kyda but she can not land a blow for she is struck by the massive blade the Dame wields and Terese is bleeding so she takes a knee, yielding. "I yield, thank you," is all she says before sheathing her sword

Binky, an asshole crow, Greguin, an organized priest, 9 Templar Knight guards arrive, following Aureth.

There is a swiftness to Kyda's movements as she lunges at Terese, and the princess has little chance to even brush against that armor that protects the knight so well. Alaricite finds its home in skin, and she feels that break, senses the rules of the challenge are met, and she immediately pulls back before the word is called. She steps forward, dipping her chin down to look at the woman on her knee. "You need not yield, Princess Terese Valardin. You stood well, and you met the challenge. It is over. Thank you." She does offer a hand, but it is not a kindness that will linger. The moment Terese stands again, blood dripping to the snow, the Eternal Templar turns to survey the crowd.

Turn in line: Terese

Turn in line: Felix

Ian nods absently to Felix's question, the nod of someone who may or may not have actually heard it, and then snaps back to the conversation once the fight comes to an end. He nods. For a second time. This one at least looks like it's intended as an actual answer, and not some kind of placeholder. "I saw a few matches of the first day before duty took me elsewhere, and saw everyone who fought on the second. That was when I challenged her. She fought me and then Master Valtyr back to back, and I don't think anyone else has done that." Then he shifts his attention to Terese. "Well fought."

"Ah, too bad!" Sorrel says to Corban with a bit of a grin. "I don't know if I'll manage to draw first blood, but you know -- hope for the best; expect the worst. I'm sure I'll give it a good shot, though. She's well armored and very experienced. You can tell as you watch her. Very focused. Just that quick, she reminds me of Dame Reese, though. Perhaps there's a reason, there." She stands with the King's Own knight watching the patches curiously.

1 Iron Guardsmen, 3 Black Fleet Reavers arrive, following Raven.

1 Iron Guardsmen, 3 Black Fleet Reavers leave, following Raven.

Felix straightens from his lean and hefts his helm up to don it, buckling the strap under his chin before closing the aventail across the front and stepping forward after giving Ian a nod of acknowledgement rather than just walk away from the conversation. "Felix Meadson, Archlector of Mangata." is offered with a salute to the dame. "And I understand the rules of this challenge." moving to take Terese's place on the side of the challenger and the weapon brought with him coming up in both hands.

Terese she takes the hand offered and stands. She offers a respecful parting to Kyda. "Thank you Dame Kyda," she says again and goes to join the others to watch the other challengers

"Mmm. And a fullplate of alaricite. I have heard of knights having such armor in the time near the Reckoning, but." Corban shakes his head as he chats with Sorrel. But this is quite different! When Terese is not successful, he nods to her, watching then as Felix steps forward.

"Thank you Lord Ian," Terese replies as she moves

Aureth arrives in the quiet crunch of footsteps over snow, except it's magnified by how many footsteps are quietly crunching over the snow, since his guards surround him pretty much at all times in public these days, and it's just a lot of boots, okay. Still, he isn't apparently here to make a great ruckus or draw attention to himself, other than that which happens by nature. You can tell because there is no declaiming.

Felix was ready for the test, at least! Kyda watches as the new challenger replaces the old, and when his title is offered her fist comes to chest, her torso bends and she greets, "Archlector Felix Meadson." There's a clear admiration there for a man of the Faith, and when she straightens she nods to him. "May Gloria bless you," she speaks clearly this wish before taking her position. How many has she fought and stood against in front of this shrine? Countless, and yet she looks no less determined than she did the first day she stepped into the city - searching still for the worthy. "By your leave, Archlector. First blood."

A fight has broken out here. Use @spectate_combat to watch, or +fight to join.

"It's a beautiful set. And in very good shape. Most I know only have a breastplate of such. And even that is not proof against some monsters," Sorrel remarks to Corban as she looks curiously to the fight in progress, considering the Archlector as he faces off against the holy knight. "But armor only goes so far in these things. Skill and discipline matter quite a lot."

2 Thrax Elite Guards have been dismissed.

3 Thrax Guards have been dismissed.

Aryka Wyrmfang have been dismissed.

Lady Teonia Redreef have been dismissed.

Marquessa Pudding, a doughy dog have been dismissed.

1 Templar Knight guards, Oliver, a page arrive, following Oswyn.


"And may Gloria continue to shine upon you, Dame Kyda." The exchange is quick, Felix not one to prolong an outcome and is direct in his own attempts to strike his opponent as he is in most everything else. But the first exchange is enough for her blade to slip through his guard and bloody his arm when he tries to deflect the blow from his vambrace. It brings an immediate shift back up right and a lowering of his halberd to give her a salute and a grin when the mail aventail is loosened once more. "Thank you for the opportunity to test myself."

"Ah. Quite so. Especially when the fight is only to first blood. It is just finding that one weakness that will cut the skin and make it possible to advance," remarks Corban, thoughtfully, to Sorrel, as he watches Felix prepare to square off against Kyda.

Kyda did promise she would not hold herself back in these, and tonight she seems especially ready to find that small window and strike. Felix faces the same swiftness as Terese, and with a brilliantly executed step to the side, she uses that strength and height of hers to press past his attempts to deflect. Blade kisses skin and she knows the sensation well enough to ease back, to see that darker liquid drip from her sword. "Archlector, you stood well against me," she speaks earnestly, despite how quickly this challenge has ended.

Norwood has come to fight Kyda before - and it ended rather poorly for the middle-aged knight. He has stood silently to the side, watching the pairs go at it. A small frown tugs at his lips.

Oswyn makes his way along to join the crowd. He doesn't seem fussed about getting a good vantage point. The left sleeve of his coat hangs limp, since his arm is secured in a sling against his chest. The pompom on top of his knit wool hat bobs jauntily.

Terese quietly watches Felix challenge Kyda. "Well done Archlector," she says when he comes back to where the other stand to watch

1 Iron Guardsmen, 3 Black Fleet Reavers arrive, following Raven.

Aureth watches the brief exchange between knight and priest with a look of mild fascination to his expression, having first situated his templars about him so that none of the taller guards are blocking his view, which is necessary because he's just not that tall a guy. When the clash is over, he moves towards some of the other spectators with a hinted curiosity in the way his pale gaze flicks across them. "When I was a boy," he says without saying hello, "we used to fight in the Sanctum of Genesis until the templars shooed us off, but it was with snowballs." He considers for a moment and then adds, "And rocks from breaks in the cobbles, sometimes, but we were shitty kids. Mother would come out from the Archive and put a stop to it with a look, but the kind that comes with a capital L. Don't know what made me think of that."

Turn in line: Sorrel

Ian seems to be in what passes, for Ian, as a pretty good mood, despite the fact that he's keeping on hand on a lamppost to avoid slipping on a patch of ice and falling on his ass. The severe lines of his expression are lessened, so that he almost has the face of a man his age. He gets to watch people fight, so that probably explains at least some of it. He raises his eyebrows to Felix. "Everyone's soft against two handed alaricite," he chuckles. "Well fought. I wouldn't mind testing myself against that halberd someday."

"One tiny weakness can destroy the world," Sorrel reminds Corban with the sort of expansive gesture she uses when she's in bardic storytelling mode. "And both of the fights thus far have been well fought. I think I shall challenge, yes." She looks around at the gathering crowd for a moment, smiling thoughtfully. "Princess Terese showed quite a lot of promise in particular."


Inclining his head onne more time to Kyda, Felix meanders back to the crowd as he removes his helm and hangs it from his belt once more, offering Terese a smile. "You as well, Highness." before he gives Ian a nod. "I'd be glad to. Alas, that Origin was not forged with combat in mind." tapping the alaricite hammer at his belt with a small shrug.

Oh good, an Aureth. Norwood will just inch that way - not drop from a tree this time - and ask vaguely, "Who is she, and why is she?"

Oswyn mills about near the edge of the crowd, mostly listening for voices he recognizes. Everyone is a pile of furs, cloaks, and armor.

"I don't spar against a lot of halberds," Ian explains to Felix. "Hard to get a good sense of how to get past their guard without experience. Or how to avoid them getting past mine."

an incredibly lanky sighthound puppy with huge paws arrives, following Mark.

"Thank you Princess Sorrel," Terese says, not able to ignore her name being dropped and the compliment. "All you can do is face the challenge as bravely and nobily as you can and hope Gloria shines her blessings on you," she tells Sorrel.

Raven is bundled up, only her eyes peeking out from between her knit scarf and tassled beanie,"Soo if someone wants to win a fight against Lord Ian, bring a Halberd." She stiffly shuffles on up right next to Oswyn, using him as a windbreak.

When none step up immediately, Kyda takes the moment to examine her blade, to listen even if she makes no response to the words circulating through the crowd. Aureth's, in particular, about the Templars and the children warms her heart - but he'll never know that, because she looks just as stonily resolute as ever. If only he could read minds! ALAS. A cloth is drawn from beneath her armor and she brings it to the blade's edge, wiping away the droplets of red won from the last two challenges.

Sorrel has joined the line.

Aureth's smile tilts up at one corner as he turns the uptilt of his eyebrows on Norwood. "Have you asked her?" he says.


"Makes sense." Felix resumes leaning onto said weapon while he waits for the next challenge to occur. "I picked up using them during the Silent War, just stuck with it, though I try to practice with everything I sell from time to time, too." Raven's arrival and subsequent comment makes him grin, giving her a nod of greeting.

Turn in line: Sorrel

"I believe she is in the middle of hitting people, and I would hate to distract. Also, I have already faced her once." Norwood, with all the logic to Aureth. "Do you //know//, or was that a 'I have no idea' either answer?"

Oswyn turns his head to squint at Raven with a smile. "Hello again," he tells her. "How are your stitches? Who's fighting the Dame now?"

Ian tips his head towards Raven, either acknowledging her statement, or maybe agreeing with it. Or maybe trying to get more people to fight him using halberds. Then he looks up at Norwood. "I believe she's sworn to keep it to herself for the time being. It didn't seem like the right thing to do, asking someone to break an oath."

Nodding her head to Terese then as she takes a step forward to approach Kyda, Sorrel adds, "I hope she will!" She winks back at the Valardin, then turns her full attention to the strange knight, bowing slightly. "Dame Kyda Barron, I am Princess Sorrel Thrax nee Wyrmguard, Bladesong. I understand the rules of this challenge, and I ask for the honor of a fight."

Sorrel wields Anthem, alaricite sword of the Bladesong.

5 King's Own Guardsmen, a small swarm of pearlescent spiders arrive, following Symonesse.

Symonesse arrives, following Aindre.

Rupert, the Laurent Archivist, 2 Valardin Knights, 1 Laurent veteran guards arrive, following Cristoph.

Rupert, the Laurent Archivist, 2 Valardin Knights, 1 Laurent veteran guards leave, following Cristoph.

Raven flashes a broad, pleased grin at Ian, she doesn't gnatter at him bow she does bow her head respectfully before leaving him free to focus on the fight. Oswyn gets a bob of her head, "Hello again, Archscholar. Have I missed any excitement?" She stands alongside the man, using him as a windbreak with only her green eyes peering out of her scarf and tassled hat, Her Guards watch from the shelter of a nearby building, no more inclined towards this weather than their captain. Felix get a wave of a be-mittened hand.

Kit, the grey fox, Primus, First of Monique's Assistants, 1 Greenmarch Guards, Tertius, Third of Monique's Assistants arrive, following Monique.

Ian stands next to a lamp post with his left hand resting on it very much like someone who thinks he might at some point need it to keep his balance on the icy ground. He's usually got a fair amount of situational awareness, but he's so focused on the fight that's about to start that he's really not paying attention to who's coming and going.

Kyda slides the cloth along the blade one last time before it slips beneath her armor and she turns to face the Bladesong. "Princess Sorrel Thrax," the name is echoed clearly, spoken as a way to commit it to memory with the face, the armor, the weapon that will stand against her. "First blood," she speaks that piece, in spite of the statement of understanding. "And may Gloria bless you," she dips her chin in respect, and this time she steps away from her opponent, giving a wide berth. Her darkened alaricite sword lifts, arms solidly holding the weight as she takes aim at the Thraxian. "When you are ready, your highness."

A fight has broken out here. Use @spectate_combat to watch, or +fight to join.

Terese is here among the crowd watching Sorrel as she challenges Kyda. She is silently watching for now


"Mmm, her Highness and I made our challenges." which seems to remind him, tucking the halberd into the crook of elbow and shoulder so he can work his gauntlet and vambrace off after shrugging one shoulder free of his own greatcoat. Then fetching out a length of cloth to wrap around the injury gleaned from said challenge, binding it to staunch any further bleeding before he pulls the padded armor pieces back on and shrugs his coat back into place, fingering the slash he'll have to repair later. "And how have you been?"

Mark was just cruising along, minding his own business. But even he can't ignore a crowd like this. He veers off toward it, taking in the array of people that are lingering and the woman that is challenging the fighters of this city.

"Oh, no idea," Oswyn tells Raven cheerfully, tugging at his scarf with his free hand so it covers his mouth. "But I haven't heard anything about anyone bleeding out, so so far, so good."

6 Grayson House Guards, Maureen, an unflappable nanny, Clark, an exasperated guard arrive, following Sabella.

Prince Aindre arrives to watch the fighting, and normally one could say he's pretty hard to miss in all the gleaming alaricite that he's wearing but tonight the reason he's hard to miss is because walking beside him is Queen Symonesse Grayson, his conversation low and quiet and just for her though he does laugh a bit brightly at something that's said to him. That hammer of his is carried in one hand, hanging there with brilliance. He's there just in time to catch the fight that's broken out between Princess Sorrel and this new enigma of a warrior here in Arx, his one good eye curious and watchful about the whole affair as soon as it comes into view.

Sorrel always hopes to win, even if she doesn't expect to win. And so she is up on her toes, ready and eager when she faces off against Kyda. She moves like a dancer, quick and light, but also perhaps a bit predictable if the woman is giving her such a wide berth. There's a thoughtful study before she darts forward lightly with a grace that belies her strength, but perhaps Kyda has studied her in turn. The fight is quick; she takes a blow to the shoulder, and blood darkens her black silk and shiny red rubicund.

Terese catches sight of Prince Aindre and Queen Symonesse Grayson. She offers both a respecftul greeting proper to their station. "Prince Aindre, come to answer the challenge," she questions curiously.

Raven looks up at Oswyn, verdant gaze glimmering with mirth and a shivering chortle leaving her, "Your bar for a good time is very, very low. No wonder I've never managed to anger you." She pauses and cedes wryly, "Yet."

There is a hope that Sorrel, of course, will prevail against the Templar, but, like the others before, the Bladesong is bested. "Ah. Well fought, dear Sorrel," calls the First Captain to his friend, shaking his head slightly. And then one of his bosses is here and Corban stands up a bit straighter, even though he is not on duty.

Queen Symonesse arrives on Prince Aindre's arm just in time to see Sorrel take a blow. Even in the midst of whatever conversation she had been having, she stops to wince and takes a slight step back, murmuring, "Goodness." Still, it isn't as if the sight of blood nor of martial matters dissuades her from coming to observe, though when she catches sight of Kyda, she gives the woman a long, long look, recognition apparent with her golden eyes and then, her smile broadens before Terese's question of Aindre drags her attention in that direction, but she stays quiet to allow Aindre to answer for himself.

Sabella entered with her usual entourage of Grayson guards, personal guard and assistant. The woman was quiet and introspective as of late instead of her more exuberant and dramatic self she was known for. However, there was still a faint smile that graced her features despite of the news of her husband and along with other Grayson news. Her outfit was color coordinated; a pale amethyst gown, mint green wool cloak and embroidered juniper leaves and berry pattern dotting her assemble. She smiles to the familiar faces and goes to take a seat to watch the challengers.

Kit, the grey fox, Primus, First of Monique's Assistants, 1 Greenmarch Guards, Tertius, Third of Monique's Assistants arrive, following Monique.

Ian watches the short fight play out, his electric blue eyes always moving as he follows shift of weight, shift of gaze, angle of attack, style of defense. It's only after it ends that he notices a familiar hammer approaching the crowd. And the person holding it. And also the Queen, I guess. "Prince Aindre." There's something lightness-adjacent to the cast of his features that almost makes him look his age; he gets to watch lots of people fight, so it's a good day to be Ian. His voice is still pretty toneless, though, unless 'Isles accent' counts as an inflection.

It is quite possible that Sorrel and Kyda have different ideas on what it means to win this challenge. For the recently-appeared knight, she seems to wish only to see how her opponents stand against her, how they approach, how they take on the challenge. For those who have struck her, and those who have not, she offers the same treatment, the same feeling as if they have been measured in some way. She has yet to give any determinations. For Sorrel, the wide berth matters little and she proves that she's just as deadly when there is space between her and an enemy, because she closes that distance with expert speed and with a striking spin she brings the alaricite down to shoulder. She sweeps through the complete movement, a flick of blood sent to the snow, and then stops. Her blade comes up, and she nods. "Well fought, Princess Sorrel Thrax." With an inhaling of breath, she turns to look for the next, but instead she finds a face so eerily familiar that it makes her blink. A small break in her shielded expression. The salute she gives the woman is swift, blade cutting through the air until its point is rigidly aimed at the sky. Recognition shared, she eases into a stance that suggests she is ready for the next.

"I mean, I've had better times," Oswyn tells Raven, turning a little so he's blocking her from the wind just that little bit more. "I hear murmurings. Did someone interesting just show up?"

Raven leans forward to peer around Oswyn, "Ohhhh. Is Her Majesty and Prince Aindre. I might get to watch him fight without me being busy trying not to die. That'll be nice."

Monique arrives from one of the gardens, stepping lightly through the snow towards the gathering that the Dame Kyda inspires with her declaration and her challenges. As always, there's a note of distinct curiosity to the Greenmarch as she approaches the crowd, slipping her way through to get a better view.

Norwood checks composure and etiquette at hard. Norwood fails.

There's a few familiar faces all around, and Prince Aindre does take a moment to greet them with a quiet smile here or a little wave there that's not so little because that hand's wielding a warhammer. It's not a threat, promise! His attention lingers on Lord Ian and he shoulders his hammer as he tells the man, "My friend! I should have known you'd be haunting around anywhere a fight has broken out.", before he turns to Terese and tells her, "In a way, I am. I came for answers." He gives Symonesse a reassuring smile, the warmest kind he has, before watching Kyda's combat dance fall still once more in the wake of someone else's defeat. That he's standing next to the Queen means suddenly Kyda's looking in his direction too, so he takes back the arm he's had reserved for his Nox'alfar companion to step forward and give the ancient warrior's armor and weapon a once-over. "Am I too late to step up, shining stranger?", he asks.

Norwood bows when the queen enters - but he does it ALL WRONG, and he blushes hotly under his beard as he rises again. A hand comes to finger Queensguard's hilt and he mutters, "Sorry, I don't bow to many queens!" but not seemingly to anyone in the room. Probably just his sword. It's fine.

Ian lays a brief hand on Aindre's should and says something to him in a soft voice, before releasing him to his challenge. Then he inclines his head to Symonesse. "Your Majesty."

Aureth claps Norwood on the back, which probably doesn't do anything to help him with his etiquette problem.

"Well fought, Dame Kyda," Sorrel replies, politely pretending that she is not in pain for the moment as she moves to sheathe her blade. She bows once more to the woman, then moves to step aside for any future challenges, pausing to sweep a deep bow with quite a lot of flourish to the Queen, even if she does hold her injured arm a bit awkwardly, not yet even bothering to staunch the wound. She does pull out a bandage from her bag one-handedly by the time she returns to stand next to Corban, using it to bind her shoulder in a very quick and informal sort of way. "I did really well," she confides to him with a little grin. "I lost but I feel like I won."

Felix joins Ian in his inclining head and greeting, when Aindre steps forward to make his challenge. "Your Majesty." bending his arm at the elbow to test the binding underneath layers before he's satisfied and returns to leaning on his polearm, attention given to the exchanges being made with Kyda once more.

6 Grayson House Guards have been dismissed.

Maureen, an unflappable nanny have been dismissed.

Clark, an exasperated guard have been dismissed.

Is Mark allowed to start smoking here? He looks around the general area that they're standing and starts to fidget with the metal case in his hand, he opens and closes it restlessly while he lurks among the onlookers. He watches the exchange between Sorrel and Kyda and then Aindre steps up and he slowly, carefully, eases his way to the front. His eyes search out Symonesse in the crowd and she's given a respectful nod from the man.

"It is not in whether you strike the first blow, Sorrel, but how you acquit yourself," confirms Sir Corban when Sorrel comes to join him. He pauses for a moment to make sure she has the bandage sorted out, and when Mark is spotted, Corban gives a little head-toss to the fellow he killed some zombie Graysons with. But when Kyda and Symonesse seem to /recognize/ one another, that draws Corban's eye.

Terese smile offers Symonesse a warm smile as she focuses her attention to watch Aindre challenge Kyda. She seems captivated by the whole event

The salute is returned with a deep nod of respect, but Symonesse does not speak to offer further enlightenment as to the nature of her mutual recognition with Kyda. She takes a step back when Aindre steps forward and then catches Norwood's bow. She gives the man a luminous smile and calls out, "Your form is fine, Baron, and I appreciate your effort." Her tone takes on a certain lightness and merriment to it that had been missing since the fall of Bastion. All is not right with the world, but all is right right -now-. She returns Mark's nod and Terese's smile with another of her own bright smiles and moves to a position where she can watch as well, rather curious herself.

It is not lost on Kyda that Symonesse is addressed as 'your majesty' by some, and this is a small puzzle piece that does not quite fit her memory. Her brows lift, but she does not question it now, because to do so would be to lose her focus and that is a risk she is unwilling to take. She rolls her shoulders back before they square in deep resolve, and the man beside the Queen steps forward, speaking to the challenge. "You are not too late," she gives him answer, but something drives her to look away from him to the shrine that stands behind them all. "And I hope I am not too late, either." Her hope is more distant, carrying with it a weight that goes beyond this time and this place. Her hazel eyes return to the one-eyed man and she asks, "Your name, and a spoken understanding of the rules of this challenge. First blood, that is all."

Is it polite to mutter with the Queen in the room? Probably not, but there's a vague, "Tell that to the sword..." that comes from Norwood, spoken just a tad too loudly. It's outside, things carry, right? He straightens himself out though, and puts his hands neatly behind his back. He isn't here to face Kyda, he's done that. Just watching.

Also, a side-eye to Aureth. Is he //really// a big faith person? He seems like... a real person.

Monique finds a space, next to Aureth as it happens, and settles in beside the Dominus. "Have I missed anyone besting the incredible force that is Dame Kyda today, Most Holy?" she asks, eyes riveted to the fight about to take place.

Aureth, who is indeed looking pretty human at the moment, shoves his hands into his pockets. "Not since I've gotten here, my lady," he says, on the dry side of amiable, but amiable enough. He asks Norwood, "I mean, she probably /would/ be polite to your sword if you performed an introduction? Were it apropos for a man of the cloth to undertake to wager, I'd hazard she's had stranger requests."

Raven watches Aindre and Symonesse's assessment of the stranger in Gleaming Alaricite and murmurs lowly to Oswyn.

an oddly large stone-looking egg arrives, following Titus.

As Kyda lays out the terms for Aindre, Mark drifts closer to Symonesse. The barest of upnods is spared for Corban before he murmurs something low to the Queen.

The look that Kyda gives the shrine also draws Aindre's attention, one eye that he has for it. He considers it for a moment, some of the tension leaves his jawline, replaced by an expression that isn't peaceful, but it is calm. When he turns back to the warrior it's to unshoulder his hammer and heft it up in both hands, telling her, "Aindre Grayson. I will fight you to first blood, Dame Kyda, though I suspect wherever you're taking people the fighting will go far past that." He takes a combat stance, a wideness to the positioning of his feet for stability that should work well with the heaviness of his armor. "That's important to me. Someone I care about dearly has bested you in combat. I want to know he'll be following someone that stands the best chance of bringing him back to me alive. I've come to take your measure." There's confidence in the prince. It might sound like arrogance if there wasn't the smallest tinge of worry to mingle with his words, but certainly not worry for himself. He looks prepared, expecting the violence of combat at any second.

Monique inclines her chin to Aureth's reply gratefully and leans just slightly to whisper something else to the Dominus. But her eyes remain deeply focused on the bout to come.

Five, a probationary assistant arrives, following Mailys.

a blue and gold macaw arrives, following Vitalis.

a blue and gold macaw leaves, following Vitalis.

Aindre wields Beacon, a handsome diamondplate warhammer.

Raven's eyenbrows shoot up at aindre's declaration. She murmurs to Oswyn, "I'll narrate what's happening, if I can keep up." she promises.

Vitalis has joined the line.

Oswyn smiles. "Thanks," he tells Raven. "I'd appreciate it. I think the only bouts today have been very, very fast."

Symonesse turns her head, briefly, to look at Mark and murmur something in return, but then Aindre's response to Kyda redirects her attention that way and just the faintest little frown forms a furrow on her pale brow. She murmurs something as an aside to Mark and then, as it appears the two will fight, she reaches out to grip Mark's sleeve and it appears as if she is holding her breath.

Ian straightens up a little bit at Aindre's words, and in the slight widening of his eyes, a little bit of surprise.

Terese's curiousity is peaked at the exchanges shared. She is watching and awaiting the outcome

Aureth exchanges a few murmured words with Monique at his elbow, and then calmly drops into a kneel in the snow and gathers up a stray spider from it, coaxing it onto his finger. "Too cold for you out here, we're going to take you home to your shrine," he tells the spider that evidently dropped from his trouser leg, and elevates it to his shoulder. What? This isn't weird at all. Norwood still totally thinks he's a normal person, right?

"Aindre Grayson," Kyda echoes the name exactly as it was spoken to her, without the title he was born into. That he guesses at the dangers awaiting any who are deemed worthy enough has her head tilting to watch him more closely, weighing him in a different measure from the one with the sword. "You assume I look for those who can best me in a single strike challenge. I do not," she erases that misconception with a cut of her words. "I look for those who are worthy. Those who stand with honor. Those who will be able to face the dangers that are far past this makeshift battlefield, not just cut them with their weapons." Each word carries with it a deep responsibility that she holds, but also that she will be putting on any who agree to stand with her in the end. She lifts her sword, the blade leveled with ease against the newest challenger. "May Gloria bless you," she speaks her words of honor. "When you are ready." Her knees bend, her right elbow pulls back, and she waits.

A fight has broken out here. Use @spectate_combat to watch, or +fight to join.

Mailys arrives with her robed assistant. There are a few familiar faces in the crowd and many more she doesn't know, but she seems to have arrived after something interesting had been said previously. Her attention turns to the match begining and Five takes notes.

2 Redreef Wardens leaves, following Griffin.

Vitalis heard word that Dame Kyda was crossing blades outside the shrine again and, like so many, has come curious at the mysterious knight and her challenge, but also - if his kit is any indication - to himself be tested.

Monique steps a step or two back from Aureth and the spider, enough to catch Norwood in her view, "Baron Clement. It's always a pleasure." She shares her regard between the Baron and the battle, sucking in a breath as it begins.

Monique has joined the line.

Caspian enters the gardens with the usual confidence and smile he so often wore. the talk around town of the gathering here for the spars had NOT been exaggerated. he saw some familiar faces, offering waves and a warm smile to each as he slipped in to the crowd to watch the fights.

Nope, Norwood no longer considers Aureth normal. Which is perhaps shared in, "It's a spider, not a //bee//." Norwood 100% has a favorite insect. He nods towards Monique when she speaks to him. "Yes," a pleasure, probably. But he doesn't introduce his sword right now. The queen seems engaged in the fight.

Oswyn bounces on his toes, possibly to keep warm, and speaks quietly with Raven. Every so often, he squints over at the combantants.

"If there are any bees out here in //this//, Baron, they're very confused and probably sick," Aureth points out, dusting some snow from his long loose hair. "It's not the season for healthy bees." With this statement we have now exhausted the sum total of the Dominus's knowledge vis a vis bees.

When Mark sidles close to whisper to Symonesse, Corban perks up a little bit, but seems satisfied that he not going to knife the queen. It's how these things go. Professional hazard. "So did I tell you we are going on tour soon, Sorrel, the King's Own?"

Titus does spy Vitalis and he says to the Clement, "May your spirit be the strongest weapon and armour you wield, lord Vitalis and enjoy the measure."

Raven's gaze slides towards Corbat, unabashedly eaves dropping on the King's own chatting with the knight.

"Of course. Bees are quite smart enough to know //not// to leave the comforts of their hive." Norwood sniffs. Just a little bit elitist about bees.

Sorrel offers a cheerful little wave in Mark's direction as Corban checks him out, looking slightly amused, then turns her attention back to the knight with whom she stands chatting. "I don't think this is about a little blood," she admits with a little shake of her head. "But you know, I told a dear friend of mine that we'd figure out how to rebuild our lives after we saved the world. No point in fretting about it before hand. If we win, we'll have the opportunity to rebuild, right?" She grins with mild amusement. "You did not. Where are you going?"

"I've never had any question of his worthiness. Only his lifespan.", Prince Aindre promises as the misconceptions are cleared up. He knuckles down on that hammer's haft and steps in to close the distance between himself and Kyda and while hammers aren't what anyone might consider a graceful weapon he does handle it with no small amount of control despite the weight, lefting off the side a little to leave plenty of room as he reaches the ancient warrior so he can arc that weapon at her alaricite chestplate where it the armor seems the thickest. It isn't enough, not when he's facing down a combatant the likes of this one.

Ian's moment of surprise turns into a slightly grumpy huff of amusement. Then the fight starts, and his expression goes slack while he watches.

3 Proscipi veteran guards arrives, following Giorgio.

"Valiantly fought Prince Aindre," Terese says. She is standing in the crowd, watching. Her shoulder still bleeds slightly where she took Kyda's blade. "Hello Caspian," she offers the champion as he joins the crowd

Mailys fails to whisper to Titus, asking so that Vitalis can hear, "Does that technically leave room for Lord Vitalis to be blessed with a scar ,or does one's spirit protect against such blemishes also?"

There are more whispers shared between Symonesse and Mark, though the latter does turn his eyes onto Corban briefly, narrowing for a moment. Then it's back to the exchange between Kyda and Aindre, his expression shifting to something more troubled. His eyes are now scanning the crowd more than watching the fight itself.

Raven's eyebrows shoot up as Tag-just like that-Aindre's out of the fight. She unsling her cloak and offers to share it with Oswyn ton help keep the Archscholar from freezing his unmentionables off.

Ugarte arrives, following Fortunato.

Caspian offers a wave to terese with a smile, but goes back to watching the fight, his eyes following each fighter's movements.

Wherever the spider in the snow came from, it has now vanished somewhere in Aureth's clothes, or his hair, or just... I don't know, somewhere in there. It does sort of lead to the question of how many spiders are secreted about his person at any given time. He shrugs amiably at Norwood. "And it's a good thing, too," he says. "The real question is why we people are so dumb as to hang about in all this." He stamps his boots cheerfully in the snow, and then adds, "Perhaps I should ask one of my escort to speak to someone and get a good round of coffee and muffins going... no? Is that not part of your duties? Look, are you going to tell Preston you told me no? That's what I thought," Aureth adds in a self-satisfied way as one of his escort slopes off to go on a frigging donut run, no one told him that his service was going to be like this.

Oswyn's considerable eyebrows loft at Raven. "Won't you get colder? I'm fine. I'm from here. I'm not a delicate southern flower." Implying, perhaps, she is. Because maybe he wants to die. Who even knows.

Fortunato seems to be on the way somewhere. Somewhere! Perhaps a shrine in the immediate area. He's a shrine-goer, for sure, isn't he. But upon encountering a rather large gathering around a -- fight? "Oh!" says he. "Right. There's somebody or the other accepting challengers." He even slaps his forehead. What a memory.

Vitalis is deep in study of Kyda and Aindre, watching their quick trade of blows. He looks over with a blink of surprise at being addressed thus and bows to Titus, a smile ghosting, "Thank you, my Lord." He straightens and resumes study of Dame Kyda, the bout done.

Monique glances aside, catching Aureth's words. She rummages in a satchel, coming up with a small bag. "Cookie, Dominus?" Inside the bag, iced cookies shaped like skulls and shields. "I didn't make them," she adds, in case that was a consideration.

Monique drops a collection of skull and shield cookies.

Raven reassures, "We'll share our warmth, it'll be fine. I'm not gonna sit here and watch you freeze your danglies off, my tiny black heart can't take it."

Kyda looks to the hammer, because one wrong step and she knows what damage it might do. Her gaze follows the length of the handle to his arm, his shoulder, and she watches for that movement with clear understanding of how warriors work. The advantage is hers, and she is able to duck that arc and the force of her blade against his chest will leave a bruise not to be envied, as well as give forth enough blood to serve as proof the challenge is fulfilled. She steps out of the way of the falling hammer, her blade pointed to the ground. "Your armor is well made, Aindre Grayson," she observe /first/, because she knows how hard she hit him. "And you, I can tell, are an honorable man. Your friend is lucky. Well fought." Her cheeks are pink from both the fight and the cold, and she steps back to take a moment's rest before anyone else might step forward.

Turn in line: Vitalis

Titus says aside to Mailys as he's watching. "There's stories where an individual's spirit might make them seem unbreakable. Strong like steel that's tempered by the fire and heat of a battle. There was one knight who fought hundreds of his enemies, standing with his company as a dark wave of terror crashed against them. He stood where others couldn't, his sacrifice meant others might live. He may have finally fell, but the price the enemy paid for that one death was too high."

Oswyn snorts and murmurs something to Raven as he shuffles over so she can sling her cloak over him, too.

As his son-in-law Vitalis appears, Norwood nods towards him. But his attention is distracted by Aureth, "My lord asked me to get his child off the roof. This is other duties as assigned." But then cookies are appearing from Monique. Norwood tries to not look interested.

Aureth starts to say something about the offer of the Deathy-looking cookie assortment like, "Thank you, I think," but one of the templars surges forward to take the bag from Monique before Aureth can touch the cookie. The young woman doffs her helmet and takes one of the cookies, sniffs it, breaks it in half, licks it, and then puts it decidedly in her mouth, all while staring at Monique with slightly terrifying intensity.
Aureth pins the bridge of his nose between thumb and middle finger and goes, "Look, if someone was going to poison me, do you really think they'd do it in the middle of the Sanctum--"
"It's FINE. The cookie is FINE," claims the templar. It's her first day on this particular duty and she's going to do her job, dang it.
Aureth does watch curiously for a moment to see if she's about to drop, and then says, "I mean, Lady Monique might just have designs on my waistline."

Vitalis, with Mailys' question following him onto the field, steps forward, a murmured, 'well fought, Highness' to Aindre in passing. He squares up to Kyda, chin lifted and still studying her, curious, intent. "Dame Kyda, I am Vitalis Clement. I understand we will fight to first blood and no further." He lifts his glaive from attention and salutes her, a murmured prayer on his lips. He holds his salute until she signals the start of the bout, long-halfted blade moving in mesmeric patterns.

"What if it's a long acting poison?" Monique asks of the Templar, helpfully, extending the bag to Norwood next, unasked. A smile on her lips.

Vitalis wields a smoke and mirrors diamondplate glaive.

"Can I have one of the sh..." except Norwood's question to Monique is cut off when Vitalis steps forward. There's a clear frown, but not clearly one of disapproal.

It's over as fast as it begins, and Prince Aindre feels that blow rattle through his entire body, maybe even through his soul. His teeth clack together with the impact even if the alaricite armor he wears seems to absorb the worst of the damage. The place he's been cut? It's so clean the Grayson needs to stop and center himself and make sure there's even blood to find, but he finds it and he turns to the warrior that's drawn him down so quickly, pushing to near-disbelief off his face at the same time to smooth his expression over with an impressed look. "That was quite a blow, Dame Kyda. The Compact has not seen a warrior of your standard in an age. Gloria be with you in all that you do." He pauses for a moment, searching around, before he lifts one gauntlet-clad hand and points right at Ian Kennex, "When you take that man, you bring back to me.", as if he really has no question at all that whatever the Kennex Lord is made of, it's the sort of thing Kyda is in search of. Then he steps away, respectfully, to rejoin the crowd over near Symonesse and Mark.

Ian receives Aindre, post-fight, with a confused look. "Is that really why you're here? That's a blasted sharp sword to go up against just to try and figure out whether I'm about to get myself killed. I think we both already know the answer to that question."

Raven calls after Aindre "Here Here!"

Slipping into the Sanctum of Genesis without any fanfare comes Giorgio Pontelaeus. He's certainly not outfit in anything that looks like he might be here to take up on the dueling. His hands find his hips and his eyes shift about the space, studying those already present and those who may be fighting.

"I should not even be seen now, Aindre Grayson," Kyda answers his praise with no deflection, only a cryptic honesty that suggests something is out of alignment. The world has shifted, and here she is. When he points to a face in the crowd, her narrowed gaze follows until it finds Ian. "Ah," she understands now, but she makes no confirmation that she will take him - or that he would return safely, if she did.

She is no stranger to these short periods of rest, and Vitalis is quick on the heels of Aindre, filling the field of battle after the prince has vacated. She looks to the man with the glaive, already prepared with the words she seeks. "Vitalis Clement, well met. May Gloria bless you," she steps away from him, rolling her shoulders back to loosen any muscles the winter chill seeks to freeze. "When you are ready."

A fight has broken out here. Use @spectate_combat to watch, or +fight to join.

Ian gives Kyda an apologetic look and a shrug.

The templar looks alarmed. "IS IT A LONG ACTING POISON," she demands, way too loudly, and starts to get up in Monique's face like someone who is very worried about the fact that her boss's predecessor was assassinated.
"Oh, for pity's sake," Aureth says, reaching back to haul on her armored shoulder. (She has a good four inches on him. He's not tall.) "Then you shall spend a great deal of time later in the washroom. Please settle down. If Lady Monique were going to kill me--" He pauses. He glances at Norwood. His expression takes on a particular shade of crogglement uncommon in a man of his years and general approach to the weirdness of his world.

Caspian looks to Ian and grins, "seems your reputation is growing more and more my lord. You might need to stop trying to get yourself killed for a little bit" he looks back as the fithers prepare. he glances to the side as Giorgio slips in, giving the man a smile and a bow of his head before the fight draws his attention back,

Bundling herself in her cloak as Titus speaks, Mailys readies her angle of standing to watch Vitalis challenge Kyda. To Titus she remarks. "I don't belittle the true capacity for power someone might be to perform. I only mean to shake off some of his seriousness with a smirk with the cost of a joke. He seems to be riding the thrill of surviving the battle to be risking a strike from Dame Kyda." Spotting Giorgio, the Corsetina woman smiles and dips her head to greet him from the distance.

Fortunato gravitates over to his brother, namely Aureth, the Dominus Aureth. "Are you courting death today?" he asks.

Monique takes a step back from the Templar, holding up her hands like she's being robbed. "I promise, they're just cookies. Lord Titus made them," the Minx gestures with her chin to Titus. "You could ask him if they're poisoned, but I suspect they are not."

Monique also slides Norwood a shield cookie. On the sly.

Raven glance towards Monique and Aureth. She snorts and snickers, coughing then to cover up the sound of her mirth and school her expression. As innocent as the Archscholar sharing her black cloak. She sucks in a gasp at Caspian. "no, no, Lord Caspian. That is a conversation you want to have with Lord Ian."

Sorrel resists the urge to... no. She doesn't. She sees Fortunato and watches him approach Aureth, and she calls over at them, "Doesn't Death court him?"

Spying the nods of greeting from Caspian and Mailys, Giorgio offers them both a bow of his own head and friendly smile. Slipping about the perimeter of the Sanctum, Giorgio slides up to Mailys and Titus' side and says, "How are the spars tonight? Anyone managed to get a hit in?"

Monique gets a collection of skull and shield cookies.

As Aindre ends his fight and begins to approach once more, Symonesse murmurs a few more words to Mark and then grins at the Grayson prince as she murmurs, "Good show, my-" She breaks off, smiling wider as she drops her eyes to examine the blood drawn by Kyda's sword. "It could have been worse. At least it is only a small cut. She's not actually trying to hurt anyone." She fishes a silk handkerchief out of her sleeve and presses it into Aindre's hand, lingering there for a moment, before she pulls back to watch the next spar.

Monique gets The Sweetest Whisper, a balanced alaricite dagger from the secret places on Monique's body where weapons hide.

Monique wields The Sweetest Whisper, a balanced alaricite dagger.

"I'm not courting her, she'll find me anyhow," Aureth assures Fortunato with a ready smile. "I was just being offered sweets," he defends himself. Ish.

Vitalis circles and watches, clearly weaving defense as he gauges the Knight and where he might strike, where she might- and she's cut him on the arm, a quick slice he barely saw coming, spun away to take it on his bracers, too late, too late. Vitalis hisses and falls away, breath fuming from him in a white cloud, red spray in an arc in the snow, going to bloody slush from many feet. The trouble with a reach weapon is when your opponent gets inside. The glaive falls and Vitalis draws up, expression tight. "Well-fought, Dame Kyda." He salutes and bows, "Gloria guide us." He backs away making room for the next.

Aside from the shrug and silent apology sent Kyda's way, Ian seems to be letting Raven and Caspian's ribbing flow off him, but he's also unnaturally distracted. Previously, as each of these fights have started, his attention tracked in that direction and stayed there for the duration. Now he's watching Aindre, his mouth twitching a little bit, too quickly and too subtly to really be called an expression.

Prince Aindre stops for a moment as Ian approaches him, and he turns to look at the other man with a sober nod of confirmation. "I've lost a lot of family lately. I don't plan to lose one more if I can help it." There's a smile for the Kennex then, not his usual full sort of smile, it's far too soon after the Battle for Bastion for one of those but it's enough, what he can muster. He turns to Symonesse offering out that handkerchief of silk and rather than taking it he very gently wraps gauntlet-clad fingers around her wrist to help her press it up against the cut, though bad it is not. "I don't think she needs to be trying to kill anyone. I've had Gargantuans hit me with less strength. I don't think it comes from her arm, either." He gives the shrine of Gloria another lingering look as he continues watching the fights.

"I think it's a mutual courtship," Fortunato calls over to Sorrel, then looks back to Aureth. "Sweets, hm? Such dire vulnerabilities you have." He also, now, glances over at Kyda. "That the doughty warrior?"

Titus for some reason looks over to the really dutiful templar and then the cookies. And then Monique. Red eyes narrow just a moment, but then he says to her "Enjoy the measure. I think you'll do just fine." To Giorgio he says "There's been an excellent show so far. She's not here to kill, she's here to measure she says. I think though anyone watching all these individuals can say very strongly that the Compact and houses are protected by exceptional people, each and every one of them."

Shaking her head, Mailys explains to Giorgio, "I only just arrived. A Grayson Prince survived, the Dame seemed to note his armour construction. Vitalis looks to be bleeding but not dying..." Though she has to rise on the toes to see the Lord Clement as he walks away from the match.

Norwood reaches over and rests a hand on Aureth's side, concern flashing through his eyes for whatever is happening behind the leader of the faith's eyes.

Matteo arrives, delivering a message to Raven before departing.

Vitalis winces once out of the envelope of Kyda's improvised field, teeth bared as he undoes, one-handed, the buckles of his bracer. "Bleeding, not dying." Can confirm. His eyes scan for someone who can tend this, a hand pressed to the wound, jaw clenched. They fall on Raven, "Mmh. Can I borrow your flask, Blackheart?"

Terese is still in the crowd quietly watching the other challengers and Kyda. She is taking note of all that is happening with quiet curiousity

Norwood is overheard praising Aureth: Sorry about the sword.

Oswyn winces at Vitalis when he approaches. "I can't really help with that right now, given I only have one hand. Perhaps you should send for another healer?"

1 Greenmarch Guards have been dismissed.

Kit, the grey fox have been dismissed.

Primus, First of Monique's Assistants have been dismissed.

Raven receives a messenger and reads it, "I need to go see to something." She reclaims her duster apologetically, "MY apologies, Archscholar." She pauses and blinks. She fishes one out from her boot and tosses it to him, "Keep it. Really. Just keep it."

Tertius, Third of Monique's Assistants have been dismissed.

Oswyn steps away from Raven. "Later, then."

Griffin, a gray falcon arrives, delivering a message to Sorrel before departing.

1 Iron Guardsmen, 3 Black Fleet Reavers leave, following Raven.

A fire burns in Kyda tonight, and each who has stood against her has suffered the same fate - a quick cut, the first. Vitalis is no different, and she sees the way he offers up that arm, and she takes it. A quick lesson and she steps back on her heels. "Well fought, Vitalis Clement. Thank you." Has she not tired yet? With a steady gaze lifting to the crowds she proves ready for another, if a further challenger wishes to stand.

Turn in line: Monique

Caspian looked to Ian and moved next to him. "How are you fareing Lord Kennex? you seem fare more spry then the last few times i have seen you. i trust you are recovering well then?"

"Well fought," Mark comments to Aindre simply, concluding his private conversation with Symonesse by slipping his metal case into his pocket. He casts a long look in Ian's direction, lingering but then drops it.

Ian gives Aindre a long look that ends with him casting his gaze down at his feet. Caspian's approach shakes him out of whatever was going on there, though. And he blinks at the duelist. "Only broke a few ribs last time. They're healing up alright."

Monique looks to Titus and laughs. "You're right in that it's my measure, and not hers, that I seek." There's a sucking in of a breath and a mutter, "And of course Savio's not here to write that song." But she steps forth anyway, greeting Kyda with an intensely curious gaze. "Dame Kyda." She sweeps a bow to the woman, courtly and practiced. "Not your likeliest offering but I offer anyway. Monique Greenmarch. And I understand the terms, accept the conditions. Just... aim anywhere but my ego?"

Symonesse does as guided and carefully cleans up that little bit of blood from the cut, which means that she's not exactly watching the fight as closely as the others are right at the moment. She glances to Mark, then leans in and murmurs a few words before she open her mouth to say something further and spots Monique Greenmarch stepping forward to make her own challenge. Her golden eyes widen and her mouth falls shut, watching more closely as she holds that handkerchief to Aindre's chest.

Caspian nods, a relieved look flashing over his features. "im glad to hear it!" he nods toward Kyda, "still no idea what she is testing for i take it?"

Aureth reaches up to take Norwood's hand from its place on his shoulder. He squeezes it in a cross-palm clasp, gives the other man a fainter smile and a murmur, and then lets him go, turning his gaze back to Monique and Kyda. He looks thoughtful, and doesn't immediately say anything else.

Titus returns to Monique, "Bruises heal, egos mend. Reputations though can be completely ruined or so I'm told."

Ian shakes his head to Caspian. "She took an oath not to say. Seems like something that should be respected over idle curiosity. Maybe someone knows, but I haven't asked."

Aureth remarks, as though apropos of nothing, "Reputations can be resuscitated even from the deepest depths of the dire, actually. The memory of the commons is very short."

"That was my best fighting, believe it or not. At least without a life on the line.", Prince Aindre assures Mark, then he looks back to Kyda and then back to Mark, at Kyda again, also Mark again. Something about his expression is like, oh, you should give it a go, how hard can she hit? Despite just having been rattled nearly out of his gleaming armor in a single blow. "It's not often you get the chance to cross blades with someone like that. Life's short.", he coaxes, before looking back to Symonesse. He does manage a smile then, that warm one, and settles in beside her to watch the rest of the spectacle.

Raven, face in a missive, moves off and Vitalis watches her go, lips pressed. "Hope everything is okay." He looks back to Oswyn, expression tight, blood seeping through his fingers. It's not a fast drip, but a steady one. The kind he'd track by. He grins at Caspian, "She said, very-" ow, "-plainly: Worthiness." His grin has an edge as he scans for a healer not already tending someone.

"Monique Greenmarch," Kyda speaks the name of the newest, and most different, of her challengers this evening. To her request, the Eternal Templar does not laugh, but brows lift as she watches the woman situate herself for this bout. "You will be glad to know that my sword strikes no ego. As you understand the terms, may Gloria bless you," she dips her head in respect and looks to that smaller weapon held in the fist of the woman. "When you are ready." Her stance now is more defensive, ready for the burst of speed that accompanies a smaller blade.

A fight has broken out here. Use @spectate_combat to watch, or +fight to join.

"Sorry," Oswyn tells Vitalis, and he does seem genuinely apologetic. Also cold. He squints in the direction of Dame Kyda.

Monique checks 'permanent wound save' at hard. Monique marginally fails.

Vitalis leans down, providing some color for Oswyn, "Lady Greenmarch has brandished a short blade, here they go!"

Norwood glances at Aureth, utterly confused. It's fine though, because everything is confusing a little bit. He nods, and with a small farewell heads towards his son-in-law. "Vitalis, how injured are you?"

Caspian looked to vitalis and then flashed a broad smile, "true.. she did say" he laughed then, nodding to Ian, "But your right my lord, if its a vow she has taken, then .." he watches the fight break out and winces from the harsh blow, his eyes looking with concern toward Monique.

"I can't say I'd want to be knife fighting against a sword that size," Oswyn comments. Hearing Caspian, he squints thataway and waves with is good arm.

Aureth's unfortunate assignee is now returning with a basket of muffins hanging from his arm and carefully juggling three tall cups purchased from /some/ relatively close establishment that would sell him tea (coffee is harder to obtain, would have required more walking, it's close enough, right?). Aureth gestures vaguely at him to go about offering people tea and/or muffins. This really wasn't what he was expecting his service to be like today, but he does what the Closest to the Gods says, so around the Sanctum of Genesis he goes, trudging with refreshments in hand, attempting not to get his gloominess on anyone as he does his duty.

Fortunato frowns at Aureth's assignee and his muffins, unfairly, as it happens, but most of his attention stays on Kyda. In all curiosity.

Aureth does not, for once, attempt to bully Fortunato into consuming a muffin. This is notable mainly for any bystanders who have seem them together before.

Aureth * seem/seen/whatever words are hard

"Oh, I believe it," Mark says and begins patting his jacket down for the thing he just put away two seconds ago. He seems to be growing increasingly more restless with the crowd around them. That expression Aindre shoots him is met with a snort and he quickly shakes his head. "Whatever she has going on? That's definitely not for me. I'm at the paper pushing point of my career." He looks that prince over and says in a voice that's almost cheerful, "That's a younger man's game. Whatever the game is. For the youths."

Something catches Symonesse's eye and she manages to get distracted from the fight. She shifts her hand so that it is Aindre's and not hers that holds the silk against the cut as she murmurs, "Pardon me for a moment." She steps away from the two men and moves closer to Oswyn, giving the Archscholar a long look and a few murmured words.

Mailys looks to Norwood and then to Vitalis. However, she turns away from the Clements upcoming conversation to exchange whispers with Titus that only pause when a message she recognises briefly interrupts. They look to be either planning something, or answering each other's questions in the way her head shakes at times before speaking. Her arms move beneath her cloak, producing a rolled smoke possibly to keep a hand warm after being lit.

3 Proscipi veteran guards leaves, following Giorgio.

Terese all her attention is on Kyda,

Monique is fast but she's not used to battlefield tactics or the efficient brutality of a well-trained knight. Unless they're asleep, in bed, completely unsuspecting. Against Kyda? The Minx is not ready. It's clear. Even after watching the woman fight, falling into a defensive stance to give ground to the larger reach of the blade, she miscalculates. She doesn't step back far enough because her eyes are tracking for the next movement, the next swing. They don't see the first one coming in further than she had thought possible with such an well-honed accuracy. Kyda's alaricite blade cuts deep into the Greenmarch's side before she can dodge around it. Not deadly, but there's blood. There's a lot of blood seeping from the steelsilk top as Monique looks down. "That's... not ideal," she manages, through clenched teeth, free hand going to staunch the blood. "I'd bow but..."

"I was just glad to have a chan..." Ian trails off in the middle of his sentence to Caspian, mid-word, even, as he watches what happens to Monique. He starts to reach into an inner pocket of his coat before the belated thought catches up to him that a handkerchief's not going to cut it.

"Lady Greenmarch is well-known for taking risks if even half the tales are true." He smiles at Oswyn and then straightens as Symonesse approaches. "The Queen," that to Oswyn. He bows deeply, edging away so as not to bleed on Her Magesty. He straightens, near backing into Norwood. "Baron. Not terribly."

Prince Aindre looks on a little curiously as Mark begins to pat himself down. It's his turn to snort at the other man when he mentions he's into paper-pushing now, like he can't quite believe that at all. "Rest assured, you're my favorite paper pusher." He takes the handkerchief back when Symonesse insists and his one good eye lingers on her a moment as she's departing before he turns to Mark once more. "You're only as old as you feel, my friend.", he promises, maybe because he knows he's feeling pretty old at the moment himself.

Steelsilk is an impressive fabric, able to guard against so much, but the alaricite blade that is carried by the ancient Templar cares little for its finer qualities. The small jab of a dagger is met with the larger slice of a long sword, and she sweeps across Monique's side in a fluid motion that makes her life's blood spring and soak through the fabric. It is no deadly strike, but enough to last, and perhaps even scar, for a while. Kyda's blade's point drops to the ground and she looks to the wound. "Well fought, Monique Greenmarch," she says first, and then she calls, "Is there a healer?" because she can tell when a cut is simple, and when one needs immediate tending.

Oswyn blinks a few times at Vitalis and turns to regard the, well, the Queen. He immediately bows. "Your Majesty," he says. And when he straightens, he says something quietly to her.

"Ah!" Fortunato reacts immediately, if not helpfully, to the sight of blood. "That looks like quite a wound," he adds, as if Monique doesn't know. "I know only the very basics of patching and aid. Surely someone has more experience?"

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Titus before departing.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Titus before departing.

"You lasted as long as many," Norwood says, perhaps attempting to do some patching of any egos that might have been hurt. "You aquited yourself well enough." With that Norwood turns to leave, seeing as it seems things are drawing to an end.

Titus gives a rap of his gloved knuckles to the breastplate on seeing the last fight with Monique and Kyda. The rather bloody wound draws his attention though for a long while before a messenger comes and says something which is distracting. And with that, he moves on. Something might be seen taken from a pouch, a bloodstone held.

Monique's bronze skin looks paler by the moment but she's still upright. If only just. "Well. Fought, anyway," she murmurs to Kyda with a faint smile and casts her gaze to Fortunato. "Perhaps patching enough so I might get to the hospital? And then bury myself under a bolt of steelsilk somewhere and never come out again."

an oddly large stone-looking egg leaves, following Titus.

Caspian looks to Monique, the severe wound eliciting a slight grimace from the man. "lady monique, i can go and bring a healer to tend to that wound at the Dream if you wish. you should really have that tended properly and find somewhere to recover."

2 Ashford Archer, Bethany, 1 Ashford Ranger arrive, following Olivia.

Mark doesn't take out the thing he's patting himself down for, instead he just eyeballs the crowds and the bleeding combatants. "It's a little difficult to breathe, I think that I'm going to take a walk." He does manage some real laughter when Aindre calls him his favorite paper pusher. "Thank you, you're my favorite prince-friend." The Grayson is now given a thumbs up before he starts walking off, "Stay out of trouble!"

"I sent word to ask Lady Olivia to come, Caspian maybe you could escort her here," Terese says. "That or Lady Mabelle is she is availible," she states



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