Gryphon Faire - Part I

Tournament Field - 


 * ''The Lionsgate Tournament Field is a grassy oval bowl carved into the northern area of the Noble District, with jousting lists, a rock tossing pit, and a wide circle for combatants to compete against each other with swords, polearms and other weapons.


 * ''An observation platform for nobility rises along the northern face of the bowl, while commoners are relegated to the elevated wooden stands and benches that run around the edges of the field.


 * ''The Lionsgate Tournament Field is known throughout the realm as one of the only sites to hold night-time tournaments, because of the ample illumination provided by the various stone stanchions that rest upon the high stone perimeter wall above the stands that can be lit to create large torch fires to cast the arena into a state of faux twilight.

Ailith shakes her head. "It is my understanding that every House still has its Fair," she says. "And Lomasa will throw its own."

"But of course, Warpriest." Pardus nods. "Did'nt have the chance to visit my own House's faire last year. Duty kept me away from attending." he notes.

"I look forward to seeing your House's Fair this year," says Ailith calmly. "The shift in House Leadership should produce a change in its tone, somewhat."

Pardus Lomasa nods. "Well, it will still be grand, make no mistake." the teen winks. "Hopefully as grand as this faire, but I beleive the Duchess will do an excellent job organizing it when the time comes. I know my father is beginning to stockpile his stores in preperation of the event."

Both the Warpriest and the Knight are currently converseing quietly near a fence that encircles the main bowl like shape of the arena.

Trundle-rattle-roll. A horse appears at the entrance to the tournament field, a wagon bumping along behind it and Zia atop its back. A firm hand on the reigns and the tense look of 'don't try anything funny, or I'll make sure you'll regret it', she guides Moonlight carefully towards an open, grassy area nearby.

Ailith is watching the preparations for the field games. "It is good to get out of doors and compete, now and again. In friendly fashion."

On foot, with nary in the way of baggage but a liltrum slung over her back, Meian moves towards the tournament field. She's wearing an unsure, rather shy smile as she strolls in, hands folded behind her back.

Some of the vendors are beginning to set up booths of various wares, both rare and common, the hustle and bustle of a Faire market gradually waxing around the edges of the tournament field. The center is reserved for those games, men bustling about setting up markers and gear. Though the Faire's hardly yet begun, the low thrum of activity is audible anywhere one goes on the field.

"Half the reason I served in the Watch. I enjoyed working outside." Pardus nods, setting his arms agasint the railing of the fence, one of boots set on the bottom rung, almost appearing like as if he was standing near pasture or a feild. "And indeed, I will look forward to competing if I get the chance."

Sliding lightly down from Moonlight's back, Zia pats the gelding's neck and murmurs something into its ear. A threat, probably. Tentatively, as if skirting around the side of a ticking time bomb, she makes her way around to the wagon and unhitches the back.

Ailith looks around the field with a rare smile. "I shall have to hope Varal can keep to a schedule," she says. "I have never been invited to compete before."

Meian glances toward the wooden stage erected for performers near the center of the stands, but eschews it for the moment, beginning to make rounds of the booths as they're put together and loaded with goods.

Pardus Lomasa raises a brow. "You've never been invited? Tsk." The Knight shakes his head. "A shame, as I would have thought otherwise. Just never had the time to compete, My Lady?" Climbing into the wagon, Zia starts sorting through the various wooden things. A wardrobe. A dining table. A couple of other random bits of furniture, but mostly, it's filled with small woodcarvings, artistic little things about the size of a closed fist. Picking up a couple, the bardess begins to lay them out for viewing.

"Like yourself, it would seem," says Ailith. "I spent my time in the Church. And so I have missed these festivals."

Meian ambles up to Ziavri's wagon after a few circuits, studying her wares with that same diffident smile. "Zia," she greets softly. "I don't s-suppose you've g-got any... little w-wooden wolves here, hmmm?"

Merchants' booths are rising all around the edges of the tournament field, staffed with various goods, and the smells of baking pies and roasting meats add a rich aroma to counteract the scent of horse. The Gryphon Faire seems to be only just beginning, but preparations are underway from one end of the field to the other.

Pardus Lomasa nods. "That does seem to happen a great deal of time, doesn't it? The only reason I'm even able to attend this festival is the fact that its still the transition from the Watch to the House guard."

Zia straightens, stepping back a moment to survey her handiwork. "Mm. It'll do..." she murmurs. And then Meian appears behind her. Startled, she turns around. "Oh! Meian." She grins. "Ai, haven't seen you in awhile. I think I do. Want to take a look?" She offers a hand to help Meian up into the back of the wagon for a better look at the myriad of figurines.

Naoi walks in, just another figure in the crowd, despite the fanciful chain book still wrapped about her waist. At least she has switched out of the Ordinator army, and instead is wearing the road-stained Freelander affair more suitable for the event.

Ailith looks surprised. "Do you feel your service to your house will therefore confine you even from your own House's festivities?" she asks, turning to walk along the rising number of stalls.

"Yes, well..." Meian laughs weakly, accepting Zia's hand to step up into the wagon. "After... e-everything that happened, I've needed some time off. There's b-been a l-lot to... a lot to come t-to terms with. And we've b-been building our home. A l-little wolf might be n-nice to put in, for... obvious reasons." Her pale eyes survey the other bard's merchandise, assessingly.

Pardus Lomasa pushes himself from the fence rails to follow alongside Ailith. "Duty to the protection of my Kingdom and my House will come before my own personal needs. While yes, I may wish to partake in the festivities, there has to be someone that must watch over and keep the people safe. While yes, I know that I am not the only one doing such, there is satisfaction and honor of doing these things personally."

There are a couple of wolves on the table, well-crafted, sturdy things of dark wood. One with its head tilted to howl at an invisible moon. Another asleep on a wooden rock. A third prowling after some unknown prey, and so on. Zia nods. "Aye, then. But! Speaking of which, I've got something for you." Carefully threading her way through the narrow space between the table and the side of the wagon, she retrieves something from behind the wardrobe, holding it out to Meian for inspection. A broom.

Naoi bumps into a passing child, ushering it away after a second, continuing to move through the crowd as well as just another face can.

"Then it is my hope that you will enjoy today, my lord," says Ailith firmly. "If it is to be your first and also your last. I have relieved my ordinators from temple duty for the day. This sort of celebration is a different kind of gift to Light."

"Ohhh, you r-really made it," Meian breathes softly, her whole face alight at the sight of the broom. The girl takes it, turning it over in her hands, running fingertips down the shaft and then testing the sturdiness of the bristles. "Wonderful, wonderful..."

"I plan to." Pardus says, equally as firm. Which only cracks into a chuckle. "But I doubt it would be my last. I have the feeling that there is at least one person I know that would drag me away from my post kicking, I've gotten the impression she thinks me too young to take things so seriously." he jokes. "May I ask; what is the difference? I'm curious."

Zia laughs. "Of course I made it. It's a broom. A stick with some twigs on the end--but I think it'll do better than that bedraggled thing you've been using, aye? I told you I'd do it, and I've yet to prove myself wrong... I think?"

Naoi continues her slow perusal of the Faire and it's both, pausing near a stand of oiled bread, considering it closely. Is that a little bit of saliva on her lips? Yep.

Ailith looks surprised. "Difference?" she asks. "I am not certain what you mean."

"Well, you've got good, solid t-twigs here, and t-they're well-bound, it doesn't f-feel like any of them w-will fall out, and t-they're densely p-packed so the d-dirt won't slip between t-them so much..." Meian nods very approvingly, hugging her broom. "-Thank- you."

"You said this celebration is a different kind of gift to the Light." Pardus notes. "I was merley wondering how so."

Zia grins. "Aye. That was the goal, wasn't it? You're welcome." Squeezing back around to the other side of the table, she re-situates a couple of the figurines. "You came to play, aye?" Naoi looks left, then right, then reaches into her small pouch to fish out a payment for the oiled bread. Her slow, but jerky movement gives the hint of someone relenting to a bad habit and not wishing to get caught.

Ailith smiles. "Joy and accomplishment, companionship and cooperation. Are not all these things part of Light?"

"I did," Meian confirms with a little nod. "And a-also just... to get out. I d-don't want to spend too much t-time shut in." Her gaze drops, the girl not releasing the broom from her embrace. "It's p-probably... Not good. N-not so good."

"Indeed they are." Pardus agrees solemly. A sheepish chuckle then. "I feel somewhat silly for asking, but yes, you are very correct, Warpriest. Truely, you have a better understanding of such things than myself."

Zia frowns slightly, selecting one of the wolf figurines from the table and offering it to Meian. "Ai, have a wolf. Has something gone wrong? I mean... what's not good?"

Naoi has claimed sour bread! She cheerfully, as cheerfully as she gets anyway, angles toward a bench to enjoy it with simpleminded pleasure.

Ailith waves a hand at the fair about them. "So. Enjoy the day. And perhaps if my lord Varal arrives, we can try our hand at more adventurous games."

"How much for the wolf? A-and don't you dare t-try to make me t-take it for free," Meian insists, looping the broom over her back in the straps usually reserved to hold her longbow. She takes the wolf, examining it with keen interest. "It's... hard to g-get accustomed to everything I've d-done," the mage murmurs.

"I will look forward to it." Pardus smiles, nodding. "And yes, I will put all my effort at taking the time to relax." He takes a moment to survey the area. "Well, I think I will roam about for a time, see if anything catches my eye." Then he sniffs, the wafting smell of cooking meat grabbing up his attention. "Though...I forget the last time I ate. If you'll excuse me Warpriest, thank you for taking a moment to speak with me." The Knight bows and starts to direct himself toward the nearest food booth.

Zia sighs. "Ai, why not? It's just a bit of wood, and there's plenty more here..." She punctuates the statement by gesturing to the dining table, and the myriad of figurines on it. "Cheap even for the people who *aren't* friends, aye? There's no reason you shouldn't take it for free." She drops her voice a little. "It will pass, though, aye? Take my word for it--it doesn't hurt not to think about it."

Naoi DEVOURS the sour bread. It is the equivalent of a Wildling set upon a fresh meal with no challengers. It is there one second, and the next, it is somewhere in the digestive process. Only partly chewed. The young Ordinator looks left, then right, then begans to suck any residue oil off her fingers, watching the people pass.

"It's your h-hard work, too," Meian stubbornly insists, reaching into a pouch at her belt and pulling out a few coins. "So at l-least let me pay you a -little-, right?" As Zia's voice drops, however, so do her eyes once more. "And t-that's why I'm here," she whispers, "t-trying not to think about it. I don't k-know where I'm going anymore."

One finger, two finger, three finger, four. Naoi is the proverbial kid in the candy store, if the kid was tactiturn with a hard stare and a pair of fingers in her mouth. Eventully though, she gets off all the residue taste, and wipes her fingers on the cloth of her trousers.

Following the smell of roasting meat, Pardus finds himself infront of a booth that sells such. The young Knight wait paitently in line behind a few other patrons until its his turn to order for what equates into 'alot of meat on a stick'. Paying the apprioate amount of kahars, the teen happily walks away with exactly what he looking for and takes a large bite. Yessiree, eyes go wide at savoring the taste.

Ailith for her part makes her way toward Ziavri's display, looking over the small wooden figurines with interest.

The faire's nearly in full swing by now, a number of booths offering everything from small trinkets to great works of art. And food aplenty of course, the air rich with the savory scents of pastries, meats and all number of edible treats. In the center of the field, preparations for the sporting events continue.

Zia sighs. "Hard work my foot," she mutters. "The *table* is hard work, Meian. This?" She picks up a wooden bird. "Isn't really difficult. Promise." She pauses, studying the little mage in front of her. "I'll let you pay me if you *must*, but please? Not much?" She glances away a minute at the fair, offering Ailith a respectful nod of greeting before lowering her voice again. "Aye. I think you'll need to play something before the day is out. It'd do you some good."

Naoi sticks her pinky into her mouth, the very last of the last, the oil all gone. She allows a soft exhale, looking to the booth that supplied her one of her greatest weaknesses, then she looks away to inspect the rest of the faire. Of course, the action with the wolfish figurine draw her attention. She then wanders that way.

Varal walks onto the Faire-grounds, wearing the same outfit he always wears. It appears, however, that he did take the time to thoroughly clean everything before arriving, which is certainly a bonus. The nobleman pauses a moment to adjust his armor and check his sword and baldric one last time before striding forward.

"Not much at a-all," Meian promises with a soft laugh, placing twenty Imperials' worth of coin down on the table. "T-there, it's a pittance. And Kael'll be t-thrilled with it, I'm sure. ...and I'll p-play. Whatever people want to hear." She notices Ailith only belatedly at Zia's nod, blinking and turning, then deeply curtseying. "Ah, hello, um... w-what's your proper title now, my lady?"

Pardus Lomasa begins to wander about, taking a moment to throw his axe into its sling to hang across his back, and then continuing to enjoy his stick o' meat. Young, bright eyes look over the faire once again, looking to see what will next perk his interest.

Ailith blinks at the mage. "It is 'Warpriest' now," she says calmly, though it seems a squire has her armor this afternoon. "Are you well, this day?"

With a grudging sigh, Zia pockets the Imperials. "It's Kael. I'm sure he'll be pleased with whatever you bring him," she notes, and is about to say more when--oh. Right. Meian's curtsey reminds Zia of her own should-be manners, and she bobs a peculiar sort of one of her own in Ailith's direction. Spying the approaching Naoi, she straightens and offers a tentative sort of wave.

"Warpriest," Meian repeats, with a little nod. "My apologies, W-warpriest." She straightens from her curtsey, diffidently smiling. "I... I am w-well enough, I suppose, t-thank you. Are you also?"

Naoi quietly moves into a proper flanking distance, not crowding Ailith. Ziavri's wave, and the particular tentative air it lends, is met with a faint smile. She then looks to the wolf statues in consideration.

Varal hooks his thumbs in his belt, looking up. "Bloody well might start raining," he mutters. "But, it's just once a year." With a shrug, he looks around for something to catch his interest. It is a temperate early evening. The air is stagnant, not stirring with the slightest breeze. A light rain pours from the heavens.

Zia steps around Meian to the other side of the wagon, closer to Naoi, and thoughtfully picks up one of those miniature wolves. "I wouldn't have thought you a wolf person," she notes.

Continuing in his casual walkabout, Pardus moves out of the crowds. Not feeling in the mood to get juice and oil from his food onto to anyone, or himself for that matter. He passes by Varal in the process of taking another bite. It would be rude to speak with one's mouthful, and the young man simply inclines his head in a polite greeting as he walks.

"I am," Ailith agrees. "It is my hope that you all find this trip to my own favorite city memorable."

"I'm from... n-near here myself," Meian says lowly, her smile growing softer and more shadowed. "It's b-been a while s-since I was down this way. ...M-might I ask w-why it's your favorite city, Warpriest?"

Zia fiddles with her display, obviously dissatisfied with it despite the earlier pronouncement of 'you'll do'. Picking up a carving of some sort of small bird--a crow, perhaps a raven--she turns it over in her hands.

Varal returns Pardus' nod casually. "M'lord," he intones politely. Instead of saying anything more, as the man has his mouth busy, he smirks slightly and continues his visual sweep of the Faire.

A curious sight comes shuffling down the way, approaching Varal- a woman, clad in what might have once been finery but now resembles a bird's nest of tattered satin, silk and lace, all in pure canary yellow. Her age is hard to ascertain under grime and snarled hair, but she's definitely no longer young.

Pardus Lomasa shouldn't be so overly-concered with his food, maybe he woudln't of noticed the gopher hole that his foot drops into. With a knee buckling jolt, it clearly takes the man by surprise, and in doing so; he drops his food into the dirt. He just stares at it for moment before giving a small sigh, looking back at the noble he just passed. "Drat, they always appear just when they're least needed." he chuckles in spite of himself. With the movement of a foot, he pushes a small clump of dirt over the hole effectivly covering it up. "Lets hope no one else suffers the same fate." he says with a small, grin.

"Its beauty and grandeur lift the spirit," says Ailith. "And my own manor is in the city. The great Cathedral is an exaltation of Light, and there are many services unique to the area. What is not to love? This is the heart of Valoria, perhaps moreso than Light's Reach."

Varal blinks at Pardus, and grins slightly. He was ready to grab the noble if a fall was likely, but decides better for it. There's a shrug. "Let us indeed. But, it happens. Luckily, there is no shortage of food." There's a smile at that for a fleeting moment, before he notices the woman out of the corner of his eye. He frowns as she approaches, as though trying to recognize her and failing.

It is a temperate early evening. The air is stagnant, not stirring with the slightest breeze. A light rain pours from the heavens.

Meian ahs softly, her gaze lowering. "I... see," the girl murmurs after a moment. "But it s-seems to me wherever you go, people... e-everyone's the same. Not to quarrel, W-warpriest," she adds hastily.

Zia glances up from her rearranging, setting down the bird in meticulously perfect position at the head of a herd of figurines and shrugging out of her pack. With a light sigh, she glances up at the gentle rain, perhaps gauging how long she can keep the figurines out in the open before having to worry about covering them.

The woman seems to have been content to pass on by- until Varal frowns at her. Rheumy eyes narrow, and she heads his way. "Shadow's a-waitin for errybody, m'lord," she grumbles, pointing a finger at him that's topped by a long nail, seemingly yellowing to match her costume. "Don't you let it get in you."

"People, but not places," says Ailith calmly.

Varal is stunned by what the woman says, and merely stares in mute horror.

Pardus Lomasa grins, using a hand to tug at his bandanna which appears to be something of an unconcious habit of his. "Well, its nothing like stumbling..." he trails off hearing the woman's word, slowly stepping near Varal's side. The warning however, clicks in the Knight's mind, and instinctivley he peers the grounds. Then back at the woman, unsure of what exactly to say. "The last thing this faire needs is one to start speaking words of like this. I would advise agasint creating a panic." he lowly states.

Catching part of the conversation going on behind her, Zia turns around, tilting her head curiously at Meian and Ailith. "Mm? Since when are people all the same?"

"Not... everyone," Meian says softly. "J-just that I find, w-wherever I go, t-there's good and bad and it's k-kind of... it's s-saddening, sometimes. This c-city is beautiful but I d-don't think it can ever be my f-favorite city. I don't t-think any city could."

The fair's fairly packed by now, people milling all about the field. The center's been set up for mock-war games, and boothes selling all manners of wares and foodstuffs line its edges. A small knot of familiar faces is clustered around Ziavri's wagon, a crone in bright yellow speaking to Varal and Pardus some slight distance away in the crowd.

"See here," the crone says firmly, turning to Pardus. "Panic? Errybody smart knows the way of the world, how it is. S'in you too, boy lord. Best not let it catch you, it's got teef."

"I bear the Light's Kiss," Varal states firmly once he regains his tongue. A touch of anger colors his voice. "I am, in many ways, the antithesis of the Shadow. It shall not catch me, hag."

Pardus Lomasa stiffens, if only slightly. "Only those who willfully fall pry to its claws and become subverted into something...else." he states. "And as am I Kissed by the Light. I am wary of the Shadow, but I do not fear it. And this place on this day, it is not the place for dark words such as these. Speak not riddles, if there is danger, it would be inclined that you speak of it."

Zia shakes her head, thoughtfully brushing beaded raindrops off the head of a wooden trout. "Good and bad? That's a little..." she shrugs, letting her gaze wander off into the crowd and considering the combination of Varal, Pardus, and some random old hag a moment before looking back to Meian. "Dunno."

Gefrey wanders into the fair grounds at an easy pace, standing tall as he makes his entrance. The Duke looks around slowly, before he catches sight of Varal - a familiar face indeed - and beings to make his way for the man.

Ailith also turns her attention to the accosted noble...and sighs a bit. "The Light loves him, but luck certainly does not," she murmurs.

"Danger -everywhere-," the crone hisses, looking between Pardus and Varal warily. "And the higher you raise yourselves up, the closer to the Light y'put yourselves... that Shadow just gets longer and blacker." She sniffs, nods decisively, and turns to shuffle back off into the crowd.

Meian follows Ailith's gaze, her eyes widening. "Oh dear," she murmurs. "...W-what an unfortunate w-woman. Do you t-think there's trouble, Warpriest? Looks l-like she's leaving..."

Varal has a moment's hesitation before he steps towards the hag. "Do you know something that we should? Do you see something, woman, that only you can see?"

Ailith shakes her head. "No, If an old woman can disconcert them, they are not the warriors they believe themselves to be. I do not find them to be in that much error."

"Ahh, letting an old woman bother you, Lord Valoria?" Gefrey asks as he comes closer, hands tucked behind his back. He gives the crone a brief nod, before looking to the Lords. "I should think today would be a day of a bit more light-hearted nature. Let her words bother you after you've gone home, I advise."

Return to Season 7 (2008) Continue to Gryphon Faire - Part II