Iluna does not appear to have noticed the recent exchaneg of words. Her mind has withdrawn as she studies Andaris' words carefully.
While I was unconscious I dreamt of a great shadow puppeteer guiding the gathering of these shards of darkness, and the opening of an abyssal gate upon the conclusion of his wicked plans. I am shaken to my very core with fear, which I am deeply shamed to admit. Yet, admit it I must for I ask of you, in return, to aid me in interpreting this dream and preventing a great evil from manifesting on this plane.
This man speaks of visions and dreams and visions within dreams. Perhaps it is fate that we have been brought together... No, not fate. The workings of Desna may seem random to those who observe, but there is little she puts into motion without good cause. Perhaps she meant for me to find this holy servant of freedom, that we might work together to prevent the world from falling to a greater darkness... It occurs to her to wonder if Farlan foresaw this meeting.
And what of my own dream? In the vision I was shown, young Dzarra slept peacefully in his mother's arms. Perhaps it is enough to know that for now he is safe. But I am troubled by the recent manifestation of the Other. What speaks the good Andaris of an evil brought out of the shadows of the abyss? Perhaps our two fears are not so distant.
Iluna waits for the banter to subside before she speaks her conclusion. "Andaris... It appears to me that we were meant to meet this day. There is little that transpires in which the divine does not have a hand in guiding. I myself am a follower of Desna, the weaver of dreams and fortune, and though my faith is young I have already learned that dreams are the conduit into the soul through which she speaks. It seems to me that your dream of these shards, and their master puppeteer, resonate with experiences in my own past, or at least with what knowledge I brought from the Dark Brothers. For long now have I received visions from Desna, though every time the same images appear before me. And though I have yet to uncover their true meaning, I believe they may be linked with the dream you have shared - at least in part.
"As such, I pledge to help you in whatever way I can to uncover the meaning of your vision and put an end to whatever evil may lie at the end of that road. Long have I harbored doubts about the potential existence Shards of Darkness, but now it seems is not the time for doubt, but action. So for my part, I will join your cause."
What have I gotten myself into?
Gonan finally speaks from the corner of the tent. "Well, I guess I can tag along in your search for the shards of darkness. I wasn't planning on staying here anyways and this could take me closer to what I'm looking for. He nods to the gathered assembly and crosses his arms.
"My name is Gonan by the way. If we're going to be travelling together you might as well know that.
The leader of the toughs clears his throat. "I don't mean ta' innerupt, but whadabout us? I'm sorry 'bout the whacks, but it wasn't personal. We're mercs, y'see. We was hired ta look for any Dark Brothers folks lookin' fer the Shards of Darkness, then bring them back ta the boss." He shifts in the small space, rubbing his arrow wound. "Yer reinforcements here gave us more 'n we bargained fer."
He pauses for a moment, glancing around at each of you. "The knight, Mihail, he was willin' ta let us go. We'll leave, an' won't trouble you again. Th'advance on our deal's enough ta get us away from here before the boss realizes we ain't comin' back."
The leader looks down. "I figger we owe you fer not killin' us when ya had the chance. You've got tha right ta do whatever ya want. Turnin' us in 'll be a death sentence, though. The boss'll know where we are, and it won't be pretty once 'e catches up with us."
"My name's Kazran. This is Brann, Kell, and that's Wark." He indicates the burned man, the injured thug, and the still unconscious form.
Andaris addresses the men, "Go now brothers, and quickly. Take your families away from this place, for the one who hired you is unlikely to forgive failure. From here on, seek only to do good works, for had you succeeded in your mission today your families may have been consumed by the very shadow you unwittingly served." Andaris takes out a small sum of money and hands it the the thug leader, as well as casting a cure light wounds on the injured thug. "Go, and be blessed!"
Kaid'an pulls back his hand and gives Andaris the middle finger as he heals the thugs.
'What did you expect? He is a monk, dumb dumb, he doesn't know anything.'
After getting that out of his system he moves over to beside the Wizard.
"Since I haven't seen any glaring personality traits, apart form the fire thing which is amazing, that makes you the normal one. Therefore I apologies for all the great weirdness that is this group. Also you are now officially responsible for making sure the monk doesn't do anything culturally unacceptable. Congratulation."
Kaid'an begins to walk out of the tent.
"I need a drink. I am going to get hammered and then watch nobles plow each other with sticks. Before they started a hunt the Rangers had a tradition. You have to trust the guys beside you and they have to trust you. So how do you build that trust. You share a meal and drink together. To the meed barrel! The fastest way to become friends."
Kaid'an leaves the tent and goes back to the place that he was eating. He didn't bother looking behind. Those that showed up did and these that didn't, didn't. No use in forcing camaraderie.
Gonan glances at Andaris and Iluna
"We should go, leave fewer witnesses for whichever direction these 'kind law-abiding citizens' choose to go" He says as he starts towards the opening of the tent. "Good luck." he says without looking at the thugs.
Gonan follows the strange archer at a slight distance. When 'the paladin' takes his seat, Gonan sits on the same bench with a few feet between them.
Andaris addresses the men, "Go now brothers, and quickly. Take your families away from this place, for the one who hired you is unlikely to forgive failure. From here on, seek only to do good works, for had you succeeded in your mission today your families may have been consumed by the very shadow you unwittingly served." Andaris takes out a small sum of money and hands it the the thug leader, as well as casting a cure light wounds on the injured thug. "Go, and be blessed!"
The leader graciously accepts your gift. "Thank you, sir. You all have been forgivin' 'bout the situation an' helped us more 'n we deserve. Seein' as we're plannin' ta ditch the area anyways, I gotta warn ya 'bout our boss. I figger we're in enough trouble that tellin' ya won't hurt any more. If yer really goin' after these Shards o' Darkness, you'll prob'ly draw his attention." "
He leans forward into the center of the crowded circle. "He's a dragon, big black one by the name of Scarox. People've been tellin' stories 'bout him fer, I dunno, hunnerd years or so. Keep yer eyes open, cuz I'm sure we're not the only folks workin' fer him. Dunno what he wants with the Dark Brothers, but ya don't want ta get on a dragon's bad side."
Mihail spins his hat in his hands, a slow grin spreading across his chiseled face.
”A dragon you say? And a black one at that?”
Mihail looks pointedly at his black dragonhide hat. ”I have been meaning to get a full set for a while now. Sounds like fun. I’ve never slain a dragon before.”
Mihail looks around for his doughty squire, but finds that he has departed with the wizard.
I think I’ll tell him about our new quest at a later date. I don’t know if he can handle the thought of dragons yet.
”This is shaping up into quite the adventure! Mother would be so proud!”
Andaris shivers, 'A black dragon... I see the troubles on this continent rival those of my own homeland'.
Gathering himself, his voice steady and reasoned, Andaris replies, "Mihail, curb your enthusiasm. This is an evil far beyond our capabilities to slay, no matter our noble intent. However, that does not mean I wish to sit idly by while his plans take shape. We must strike at his minions and spoil his plots; for he will surely slay us in open combat."
"That being said, I can say without exaggeration have led a very long and boring life thus far. I used to think that good could only come from strict dedication to our duties and the path of self-discipline. Now... it would do me well to have some fun before we chase shadows. I have gained a new purpose, and am inspired by the courage of my new companions. Let us drink and be merry while we still have the chance."
With a nod toward Iluna and Mihail, Andaris sets out after Gonan and Kaid'an.
Seeing the others take their leave, Iluna gets up and walks over to the entrance of the tent. Leaning on the tent post she sticks her head out the flap and watches Andaris make his way to the pavilion where the food is still being served. Before heading out though she turns back to see Mihail still inside the tent with Lanfarnesse. A curious smile spreads across her face and she says to him "You have a very nice horse," and then she leaves.
Iluna does not head straight for the food pavilion. She meanders about for a while, stopping here to watch a jester juggle batons, or there to listen to a musician playing a lute. All the while she ponders the meaning of what has transpired this day.
As her mind wanders through memory, she lets her feet take her where they will. Losing herself in the crowd, or wandering alone, she blocks out the world and listens to the voices in her head. Finding only conflict within her own thoughts she finally gives up.
Returning to the world around her she realizes she has made her way back to the food pavilion. Consigned that it must be a sign from above, she makes her way under the canopy and goes to find Andaris and the others she has met earlier.
Mihail sighs as the last of the odd group of companions toddles off into the carnival.
This is going to be interesting.
Mihail flops onto his cot, reaches under it, and pulls out a pair of apples. He tosses one to Lanfarnesse and bites into the other, savouring the juicy taste.
Having finished his apple, Mihail looks at Lanfarnesse. The large stallion’s eyes are locked to the apple core. Mihail waves it left, and then right, watching his trusty companion’s eyes follow his movements.
”Greedy little monster, aren’t you?” Mihail asks rhetorically as he tosses Lanfarnesse the core.
Mihail stretches, and ambles out of the tent toward the food pavilion, where he orders two beers, a plate of spiced potato wedges and a pork sandwich. He then dodges through the crowd and looks for his erstwhile companions.
Spotting the most distinctive of his companions, Mihail makes his way over to the Ascetic, and takes a seat next to him.
The mercenaries slip away after most of you have left, heading back towards their tent to gather their belongings.
Iluna reaches the food pavilion at roughly the same time Mihail does. Easily finding the rest of the group, you sit and eat together.
As you eat, you cannot help but overhear the buzzing conversations around you. From the snippets you catch, it seems that the Baron's men fought off a group of hobgoblins that were trying to sneak up to the tournament grounds. They were caught some distance away, but nonetheless there is a nervous tension in the air, dampening some of the previous festivity.
"I'll kill more goblins than any of... you... here... They're like little... rodents... right? I've just got to find the little buggers." Gonan suddenly blurts out, twisting his dagger in his hands. His face is bright from the glow of the fires near the pavilion, but his cheeks flushed from the drink.
Mihail looks suspiciously at his beers, and then at the contents of Gonan's mug.
"Cough-lightweight-cough."
Mihail looks at the others, rapping his breastplate with his fist.
"Sorry, I don't know what came over me. You were saying?"
Mihail extends his platter to the wizard. "Potato wedge?"
Kaid'an stops drinking his drink and looks at the wizard.
'Wait, did he just forget what a goblin is? How drunk is this wizard?'
"Um, Gonan, have you fought goblins before? Actually on that note why don't we all tell stories of the things that we have fought. You can always tell us something less violent if you aren't the fighting type. I am a hunter, paladin, what ever, so I always think about the hunts I used to go on. Not that they are very interesting stories but always bring a good cook when you go hunting. If you bring a bad cook you will be miserable then entire time. Anything cooked well tastes good but everything can also be cooked terribly. I remember this one time that this fool tired to cook rabbits. He over cooked them and they tasted worst then our boots. It was like chewing on old leather."
Andaris, enjoying a most peculiar beverage of fermented apple, wracks his brain for knowledge of what a goblin is.
Remembering how his superiors in Tianjing talked about a minor nuisance - that of small green humanoid bandits - Andaris matches the description to the rumours floating around the tavern. Growing concerned he asks his companions, "My friends, if there truly are these 'goblins' in the vicinity, is it not our duty to see them removed from this land? In the city of my birth such creatures were little more than fables told to scare children, but now, finding them real... I grow concerned."
Iluna sets down her mug of cider. Her anxiety is apparent.
Having heard of hobgoblins before from those Brothers who had gone far afield, she knows of their cruel tenacity and villainy. Unlike their more stunted brethren who live in dark caves and forests, Hobgoblins are more brazen and brutish. While she does not doubt that such monsters would be no match for Mihail on his valiant steed, she worries about herself. Her own combat experience is far from impressive...
Andaris and Iluna recall that hobgoblins, unlike their goblin relatives, are strong and cunning, though just as sneaky and quick. They are as tall as humans, despise arcane magic, but are fond of alchemy.
Hobgoblins are well-organized, and can make for dangerous foes in large numbers. While a group of ordinary goblins are little more than a mob, hobgoblins form armies. With large enough numbers, they will raid and pillage, taking slaves and looting valuables.
The Tian nation of Kaoling is a territory ruled by hobgoblins, who conquered the area after the Lung Wa empire collapsed.
It seems the baron redeployed the guards in the camp to watch for more hobgoblins coming from the abandoned canals, off to the south-west. This explains why no guards came to the fight you had earlier.
The canals of Taldor were created hundreds of years ago at the height of the Taldan Empire, but since have largely fallen into disrepair. Bandits and monsters now take refuge in them, and most common folk stay away.
A nearby herald calls out that the preliminary jousts will begin in an hour and a half.
Mihail has a tournament schedule, which can be acquired easily from a herald.
23 Erastus
Afternoon:
Preliminary Joust - Southern Lists
Evening:
Tall Tales - Refreshments Tent
Riddles - Refreshments Tent
24 Erastus
Morning:
Archery - Archery Field
Wizardry - Western Field
Afternoon:
Jousts - Southern Lists
Staves Tournament - Western Field
Evening:
Drinking - Refreshments Tent
25 Erastus
Morning:
Final Jousts - Southern Lists
Afternoon:
Melee - Melee Field
Gonan stands from the bench "Excuse me for a... time... I need to... think..." he says, moving towards a torch. He takes it from its stand and meanders out under the open sky. Pausing for a moment, he lifts the lit end to his lips and belches, sending a jet of flames up into the sky. returning the torch to it's place he sits back down beside Mihail.
"Ahh, much better." After another sip from his mug Gonan responds "A wedge would do me nicely" he says reaching for the plate.
Gonan turns to Andaris "Anda, you're concerned? You don't have to worry, the hobs generally stay in the canals. The canals used to be quite nice, but over the centuries have become a den of monsters and thieves. The thing about hobgoblins is that they are both." Gonan pauses to see if anyone laughs, then changes the subject "To answer your question paladin, I haven't done much killing, but I spent much time as a scribe writing on every subject conceivable." Glancing back to Mihail he asks "What is of interest in this tournament?"
Baffled by the apparent unconcern of the people surrounding him - these goblins may not be demonic, but they are certainly very far from goodness and holiness - Andaris weaves out into the crowd, asking if anything was being done about the goblin threat.
While the crowd pointedly ignored Andaris, he did get some rather rude gentlemen responding as if he were an idiot:
"It's hobgoblins, you damned foreigner! Now shove off."
Hobgoblins! The name triggers Andaris' memory more strongly than the previous references to goblins. 'Yes, I seem to recall the monks speaking of the troubles in Kaoling, where hobgoblins had taken over that region following the collapse of the Lung Wa empire. It is shameful how they cowered behind their righteousness and the supposed unassailability of Tianjing, when they should have shared their light with the world.'
Returning to the table at roughly the same time as Gonan, the wizard clearly sees the worry on Andaris' face.
"Gonan, I see that in these lands hobgoblins merit little concern, but in the continent of my birth entire kingdoms are run by the fiendish cretins. I cannot allow myself to underestimate them as you have. While you busy yourselves at the tournament, I intend to find out to what measure I can help address the hobgoblin threat. In my mind the timing is too convenient not to be related to all we have experience today. Fate is drawing us into a web from which my conscience will not permit escape, I only hope my struggles draw the spider into making a move before it is ready and thus capable of being crushed." Andaris attempts to stifle a yawn, "I am weary beyond recent memory, perhaps I spoke to strongly and a night of rest will help me regain perspective. On the morrow I will meet you at the good Mihail's tent. Guard well your dreams this night, my friends."
With that warning, Andaris makes for the nearest inn to take a room for the night.
After spending an hour asking about the hobgoblins (or doing something else), it is nearly time for contestants and squires to report to the lists and prepare for the joust.
The crowds of commoners migrate to the southern lists, trying to get a good view. Wooden stands have been erected at the center of the lists for the nobles, with cloth overhangs to shade them from the mid-summer heat. The common folk stand in roped-in areas along the lists. This being the preliminary jousts, consisting of non-landed knights and wandering men-at-arms, the crowds do not fill the space allotted. Tomorrow, this area will be filled to capacity.
...Andaris attempts to stifle a yawn, "I am weary and perhaps I spoke too strongly. Some time spent in contemplation will help me regain perspective. In a few hours I will meet you at the good Mihail's tent, but if you wish to find me sooner simply look among the shadows of the trees, for I will be napping like a Kitsune. Until then, my friends."
Mihail finishes off his potato wedges and beer, and stands up purposefully, wiping his mouth on a handkerchief. He stretches his back, and pops a kink out of his neck.
”Well, I do believe I am required at the lists. Kaid’an, come follow me do your best to look pretty.”
Mihail turns out of the pavilion, and goes back to his tent to gather his equipment as well as his trusty steed. He collects his lance, his shield, and the rest of his equipment, taking time to go over his personal checklist twice.
Having confirmed that everything is in order, Mihail heads for the lists.
Mihail settles his black Dragonhide hat into a more secure position on his head and grins widely.
This is where the fun begins.
Seeing how Mihail has rather ignored Gonan's question, Iluna comes alongside him and says, "My friend, I believe the noble Mihail is entered in the lists and will compete shortly. Perhaps you and I might find a spot on the lawn from which to watch the jousts? Perhaps there is something in the shade, if Andaris has not already claimed that tree."
"In the meantime," she says, leading him out of the food tent, "perhaps you could tell me a bit about yourself."
Mihail and Kaid'an head to the lists, where a clerk - different from before, yet no less obnoxious - confirms their registration and prepares them for their first joust. "This is no barbaric contest of strength, but a noble sport, carefully regulated. Allow me to familiarize you with the terms of engagement..."
The clerk drones on for a good five minutes, listing the minutiae of the jousting rules. Experienced as you are, it is very familiar, and you tune out most of the non-salient points.
In short, you are only to strike your foe on his shield. Purposefully striking him elsewhere, or his horse, is considered foul play and is grounds for ejection. Lances are supplied, and upon breaking will be resupplied. The first to unseat his opponent is the victor.
Kaid'an is to assist in arming you, passing you fresh lances, aiding if you should fall, and any other duties necessary.
Your first two matches are against knights, both sworn to lords and travelling hedge knights. After a few passes, you manage to win both contests. The first real opponent you face is a minor lord's third son. While young and hardly formidable in frame, you hear he is nimble and an excellent rider.
Mihail sits astride Lanfarnesse in the lists, looking at his opponent, 100 feet away. The young man raises his lance in salute, then flips his visor closed. His armor is worn and dented but polished to shine in the sun. His shield and caparison (cloth covering for the horse, displaying heraldry) show a blue lion rampant on a field of white. Baron Wylder is sitting in the stands, amongst the other barons and high-ranking lords. He gives a nod, and the herald below him calls for the joust to begin.
Before the call to joust was heard Kaid'an hands Mihail his lance. "Good luck, good Knight." He says with a smile. "Now go win us some money and fame." He then takes a step back and stands where he is supposed to. Arms folded behind his straight back, trying to look as proper as he can. If there is ever a time to at least look serious this is it. Kaid'an tries to take this as seriously as a street rat turned "paladin" can. It is just nobles lancing each other but this is important to Mihail, so he acts like it is important to him.
Gonan follows Iluna towards the shaded spot she pointed to as he starts to tell his tale.
"I have spent most of my life in study, attempting to learn of all the different things this world has to offer." He looks over at her as they walk. "I also spent some time writing things for the masters..."
He pauses and looks around as they walk. Once they reach the shade and take a seat he continues. "Where are you from?" he asks sheepishly.
Mihail gently pats Lanfarnesse’ neck, and mutters into his ear.
”Here we go, lad. This is the next big step; our first true challenge. Let’s put him on the ground, eh Lanny-boy?”
With one final pat, Mihail prods Lanfarnesse into a charge, barreling down the list towards the other rider.
”For Der Razvercrunin! HYAH!”
Mihail brings his lance to bear on the target, sighting on his opponent’s shield, just below the center, so as to channel all his force into that one area.
Sunlight glints off the other knight's armour as he charges forward. With a loud crash, your lances strike each other's shields. Mihail's lance splinters on impact, while the curve of his shield deflects his opponent's lance away. Reaching the end of the lists, both competitors return to their side in preparation for a second run.
”Kaid’an, another lance! I almost had him!” Mihail shouts, a frustrated grimace covering his face.
”Once more into the breach!” Having uttered the cavalryman’s prayer, Mihail spurs Lanfarnesse down the lists again, heart pounding.
This is true combat.
Lanfarnesse picks up speed as Mihail aims once again for his target. The Gods guide my aim. This his silent plea.
"Oh! Um, that's a very good question." Iluna's startled response is a two part mix of embarrassment at having not revealed this information previously to Gonan, and being unsure as to how best to answer. "Well, I've never really had one place I can call home. I've spent most of my life so far on the road, travelling from one place to the next."
Iluna pulls out her harp and begins to pluck a few notes. As she continues to speak the notes gradually form into a wordless melody that seem only to carry her voice all the more sweetly. As she does, she begins to look off into space, recalling memories of her childhood.
"I suppose the closest thing I had to a home was the Dark Brothers' camp. We never stayed longer than a fortnight in any one place, but from town to town they traveled and we, their followers, dutifully followed. I don't know if I considered myself a cultist. To be sure I was never formally invited to join the ranks of the Brothers. But they raised me as any family would, and taught me how to grow in the gifts I was given."
"We traveled throughout the Inner Sea region. Through Andoran, Taldor, and the outskirts of Cheliax. We even travelled north through the River Kingdoms, and into Galt. I have seen the isle of Absalom and once even the deserts of Qadira. Ten years I spent in company with the Brothers..." she allows that thought to trail off as she looks back at Gonan.
Mihail's opponent seems to approach the second tilt with caution, focusing on his shield. However, he struggles to keep his lance properly couched, and his blow barely manages to hit Mihail's shield at all. Meanwhile, the shining sun reflected into Mihail's eyes throws off his aim, and his opponent's shieldwork prevents Mihail from landing a solid hit.
You notice the way your opponent tries to compensate for his small size by shifting in the saddle before impact, and by anticipating that can better aim your lance. Gain a +2 on attack rolls and +2 on bull rush attempts for the remainder of this joust.
Gonan's eyes follow the horses back and forth, back and forth, as he listens to Iluna singing and plucking away, nodding occasionally.
"ten years before you left..."
"So how did your whole magic thing happen? Were you born with it, or did you train?"
He glances over towards her before turning back to the jousts
Where was she keeping that harp?
Mihail wheels his trusty steed around, and sets off for another try.
Mihail urges Lanfarnesse down the track a third time, hoping to see the last of his opponent.
The pounding of hooves thunders once again, as the steel-clad men on their chargers meet for a third time. Mihail's lance shatters spectacularly, while his opponent yet again fails to land a square hit.
The crowd of commoners begins jeering at him, shouting catcalls from the roped-off area where they stand.
Mihail snarls in frustration as yet another lance breaks on his opponent's shield. "Kaid'an, Another lance!"
Mihail shakes his head in frustration, and takes a calming breath. With that done, he begins his fourth sally forth.
The competitors meet for a fourth time. Mihail's opponent finally manages to connect solidly, and both lances shatter in a cloud of splintered wood. The crowd cheers at the display, and give shouts of encouragement as Mihail salutes them.
You notice the way your opponent tries to compensate for his small size by shifting in the saddle before impact, and by anticipating that can better aim your lance. Gain a +2 on attack rolls and +2 on bull rush attempts for the remainder of this joust.
Mihail finally notices the way his opponent is compensating for his small size, and attempts to anticipate his movements.
Having become fed up with spurring Lanfarnesse on, since he has had no luck for doing so, Mihail forgoes using his spurs.
"I suppose I've always had the gift," she says, as she continues to strum. "I don't remember anything from before the day that Daerion found me, the day I joined the Brothers, and I know I was already blessed with it then. He taught me what I know of magic." The music subtly shifts to minor tones as Iluna recalls some distant memory.
She is startled momentarily by commotion coming from the ring and she stops strumming. The crowd has become quite vocal, some jeering and taunting one of the jousters, and here and there a voice raises Mihail's name.
In the brief interim as the jousters re-arm, the noise from the crowd dies down a bit. Almost subconsciously, Iluna begins to pluck at the harp again. Iluna says to Gonan, "For instance, I can tell that your gift comes from hours of dedicated study. I saw your spell book. Many of the brothers had ones much like it. Sometimes they would read things out of them and incredible things would happen."
A moment later asks, "What kinds of magic do you like the most?" Her question is harmless, yet reveals in itself her inexperience and lack of any real study.
Meeting for the fifth time, both competitors manage to land solid hits. Mihail shrugs off the blow, remaining firmly in his saddle as the other lance shatters. Mihail's lance holds strong, and as he rides by, his opponent tries desperately to stay mounted. Knocked off-balance, he slowly slip out of the saddle and crashes to the hard-packed dirt below.
"The winner: Mihail Dan Razvan!" calls out the herald. The crowd cheers, and the nobles applaud appreciatively.
-------------
Mihail's final joust of the day is against Sir Eren Hadra, a hulking man flying Baron Wylder's colours. Before your match, he walks over to shake your hand and wish you luck, "but not too much, of course!" With a hearty laugh and an equally hearty slap on the back, he ambles off to his squire and horse to arm himself for the match.
Mihail takes a deep breath. "Come on Lanny, don't fail me now."
Mihail and Lanfarnesse barrel down the lists, rushing the oncoming horseman.
Sir Eren smiles at you from across the lists before locking his visor into place, giving a wave with his lance. He seems almost too big for his horse, but handles him with an obviously experienced hand.
The herald announces the participants. The crowd raises a cheer at Sir Eren's name, and he meets the shout with a raised lance - he appears to be quite the favourite.
As the mounted men rush together, Lanfarnesse remains remarkably steady. Sir Eren is not a quick man, with none of the shifting grace of the previous opponent, so Mihail is able to strike a solid blow. Pulling together all the strength he can muster, Mihail holds his lance firm against the onrushing mass of armoured warrior as Sir Eren's lance thuds into his own shield. To Mihail, time seems to slow down with the impact, and the outside world fades. He feels a twinge of panic as his opponent's lance begins lifting him from the saddle.
All at once, though, the pressure on his shield stops as Sir Eren's lance slips off to the side - Mihail's lance, held at the perfect angle to channel Lanfarnesse's power, caught Sir Eren off guard. Sir Eren is lifted bodily from his mount, pushed clear over his saddle, and falls through the air until with a massive crash he collides with the ground. With that sound, the world seems to slip back into focus, and time resumes as normal. Sir Eren's horse finishes its run to the end of the lists unmounted, and the crowd applauds as Sir Eren's stands up shakily, with the assistance of his squire, and gives a wave to confirm he is unhurt.
"The winner: Mihail Dan Razvan!" announces the crier. Some in the crowd seem shocked that Sir Eren was unhorsed in a single round, but you notice many nobles nodding and whispering to each other. You catch Baron Wylder's gaze, and he gives a small smile and a nod.
Gonan watches the piles of metal and horse charge at each other over and over, hearing the crowd chanting Mihail! Mihail! after one of the piles is thrown to the ground.
"What kinds of magic? Arcane of cours- oh... Fire. I like fire magic best. So you know the spell books of other wizards, do you remember what was written in them? I would like to add to my own. If you know where there might be other wizards around, that would also be helpful... It seems the knight is doing well over there."
"Yes, it seems Mihail is quite the capable rider," Iluna observes. She keeps playing her harp.
After a pause, she resumes speaking. "I'm sorry, but I never was allowed to read from the books that the wizards carried with them. I was a bit of an... oddity, and I think there were many brothers who didn't wholly trust me around their things, especially their magic books. Then again, I don't think they ever shared their books with anyone. They kept them bound with little locks and keys, as if they didn't want anyone getting into them."
"I do remember this one wizard though. He had this great big hat, with a high point. All the other Brothers would wear hooded cloaks, but not him. Oh he would wear the cloak but he always wore his hat. I remember him pulling a bouquet out of his sleeve once and I thought it was lovely, but the other brothers laughed at me and said it wasn't real magic. I never understood what they meant. How could pulling flowers out of thin air not be magic? I asked him to teach me but he just laughed. Then Daerion told me I had 'other talents to master', and that I 'needn't spend my time with silly tricks.' Well I didn't think it was silly, I thought it was lovely. If I could conjure flowers I would plant gardens everywhere I went so that everyone could enjoy them. I-" she catches herself mid thought. "I'm sorry, I'm boring you aren't I?"
Mihail looks at his lance with a mixture of suspicion and awe. Why couldn’t I have had this kind of luck against the Blue Lion knight? Not that I’m really complaining, it just seems surreal.
Mihail salutes Baron Wylder, and dismounts. He walks swiftly over to Sir Eren and offers his hand.
”Was that too much luck for you, Sir Eren?” Mihail asks with a grin.
”Well struck, young Sir.” The larger knight complements.
”Thank you, good Sir. Shall we pay our respects to the Baron? It would be remiss of me not to greet your patron.” Mihail tilts his hat a bit further back on his brow, as there is now no fear of the wind whisking it off.
Gonan's head starts drooping as the sounds of the harp, Iluna's sing-song speech and the crowds meld into one unrecognizable medley of music.
He suddenly turns his head suddenly towards Iluna and sees her looking at him expectantly. Gonan opens his mouth to speak, but the words do not come to him. He turns back to look at the lists, but his eyes are moist and he can't see anything clearly through the mist in his eyes.
He starts speaking slowly "There was something else I was going to ask you..."
"Is something wrong?" she asks, seeing the dazed yet concerned look in his eyes.
"I'm not sure..." He says as he lies down in the soft grass in the shade of the tree. He feels the wind blowing over him and feels himself relax.
”Thank you, good Sir. Shall we pay our respects to the Baron? It would be remiss of me not to greet your patron.” Mihail tilts his hat a bit further back on his brow, as there is now no fear of the wind whisking it off.
Kaid'an walks up behind Mihail and quietly asks. "Should I come too or what is my job past this point? Oh and ah, good joust by the way Mihail. Had me worried on the first round though."
Kaid'an turns to Sir Eren and bows. "Good joust too, sir. Hopefully one bad run won't knock you out of the tournament."