Photinè joins Chana on the way to the Trucco field, winking at her as she takes up a hammer and swings it gently a few times for practice.
As the ball rolls off in the entirely wrong direction, she sighs dramatically and leans on her hammer. "This doesn't seem to be my game."
Stepping aside politely for the next player, she places herself beside Parthena Crabbe, greeting her new friend with a wide smile. "Have you met my companion, Lady Chiara Betony?" A gesture at Chana, but no move to introduce her quite yet. For now, she indulges the Dame’s natural curiosity, telling her a bit about Stachys and the newly discovered Betony heirs.
She chatters on, broaching Parthena's favored subject. "Charming young ladies, both of them unmarried, you know?" A suggestive look. "Well, it won't be long before all the eligible lords and ladies in the land come asking for their hands. It was the same when my son entered society, he was overladen with proposals. Not that he's accepted any of them, my darling boy. He's waiting for the right person." She presses a hand to her heart. "You understand; I expect your Sepsinia has her fair share of suitors."
In the first round of the joust, Lidia crosses lances with Lord Titus.
Lidia secures a narrow advantage in ridership, and although her opponent's manages to strike her breastplate, she manages to remain seated astride her horse. However, her own lance shatters upon Lord Titus' chest and sends the braggart tumbling to the ground. The spectacle elicits hollering cheers and applause from the stands.
.....
Meanwhile, on the trucco field, the elder Dame Crabbe enjoys toying with her opponents, and she demonstrates much practice at the game. She gossips heartily with Photinè, and the praise given to her daughter clearly pleases her.
"I daresay that Baron Okerra and Earl Merkondus might be two of the more eligible bachelors at the jubilee," Parthena chatters with the impish glee of a woman half her age. "Of course, our host, the Count himself, is also unmarried, but he would be quite the prize. You are quite right, though. My Sepsinia is quite the rose, surely worthy of such a suitor."
Greenly takes to the lists, riding across the field not quite as ably as 'Lidia' but managing to thrust her lance into the competition all the same.
"Count Lotheed is quite the accomplished gentleman. I've yet to meet Merkondus, but Okerra seems a decent, upright sort of man." Leaning closer to Parthena, she giggles. "A bit stiff though, isn't he?"
A swing of the trucco hammer, and a coy smile. "And what of a lovely lady like yourself? Is there a Lord Crabbe?"
Amandine finds a place in the stands to watch the tournament. When Lidia makes her way onto the field, Amandine cheers for her. When Lidia unseats her opponent on her first go, she claps and cheer even more loudly. Amandine finds herself getting caught up in the excitement of the spectacle, despite how insane and dangerous it looks to her.
Chana continues to idly tap the ball around with her spoon, rather frustrated about the whole experience. This seems less a game than even those puzzle things that Aunt Sophia would have set up on the dining room table at the estate.
While she plays, she turns her attention to watching Dame Parthena, wondering how such a energetic woman could have such a zombie-ish kid.
In her first pass, Greenly rides against Lady Mona Sittas, and she immediately pities her opponent. Although their riding skills are commensurate, the accuracy and strength that Greenly puts behind her lance far surpass her opponent. Greenly shatters her lance and unseats Lady Mona without even being struck herself.
In the second round, "Lidia" finds that fate has pitted her against an opponent far beneath her in skill. Although very competent in horsemanship, during their pass, the lance actually embarrassingly slips from Baronet Faben's grasp before he can connect. Olivia's lance strikes him, but he manages to remain seated upon his horse.
In her second round, Greenly finds a serious match on her hands, paired against Baron Okerra. In the stands, Amandine overhears that the Baron began as a clear favorite in the joust, although this prediction has been upended by the early performances of Miss Espinosa and Dame Baerdóttir.
During their tense pass, Greenly manages to eke out an edge in ridership that grants increased leverage to her strike. Baron Okerra's lance lands heavily upon her, but she remains seated; in return, Greenly delivers a shocking blow that sends the Baron tumbling from his saddle. This upset leaves the nobles in stunned silence while the commoners roar with applause.
.....
Meanwhile, on the trucco field, just as Photinè and Chiara begin to get the hang of the game, Dame Parthena Crabbe reaches her seventh point and wins the round. She fans herself and covers a patrician smile with her hand, but it is clear that she is jumping for joy on the inside.
While conversing, Dame Crabbe giggles in assent to Photinè's assessment of Baron Okerra.
"You are quite right, although I would describe him as strange before stiff. He takes such pity upon the peasants on his land that it's almost endearing. Of course, that just means he would be sure to comfort and rightly coddle the woman that wins his heart."
However, the mention of a "Lord Crabbe" leaves Parthena quite flustered. Her well-practiced decorum and grace falters, even if just for a moment or two. She admits that she is widowed but quickly dismisses the matter, eager to instead focus on her daughter's prospects.
Discovered Weakness: Anyone who seems romantically inclined toward Sepsinia - or better yet, attempts to woo her - will find Dame Crabbe very friendly. However, Parthena hasn't noticed her own lack of love life and is easily flustered by anyone flirting with her.
Discovered Influence Checks: Knowledge (Local) and Appraise
Beyond her interest in local and national gossip, she loves discussing art, antiques, and fashion.
Proud and rude, Greenly guides her horse over to Okerra and sticks her tongue at him, complete with a crude noise, before flipping her braids haughtily over her shoulder and trotting off.
She leans into the next pass, her fingers wrapped in her horse's mane, her tiger helmet glinting in the sunlight, her lance thrust before her like a ship's prow.
Chana grinds her oversized spoon-mallet against the ground, rather frustrated at the way it seemed the rest of the competitors never had much of a chance.
'This "game"'s a pain. 'Spose its good that Dame Crabbe won, any more o' fis and I'da 'ad ta spice things up a little.'
She sighs and strides across the field to whisper briefly with her 'cousin' Amandine to fill her in on what she's learned by observing the people in the Trucco match. After that's done, Chana looks around the field, particularly at its outskirts, hoping to catch sight of either Onora or Lady Marthane. Supposedly, Lady Marthane was a skittish sort. That might be interesting?
In the third round, "Lidia" and Greenly both manage to outperform their opponents in riding skill, and this makes all the difference.
Lidia rides against Lieutenant Marina Gortius, a visiting officer from the Taldan Horse and bearer of the sturdiest armor among the contestants. Lidia manages to land a blow upon the cavalry officer, although she takes a strong hit in turn.
Greenly makes an utter fool of Lord Titus, outriding him, evading his lance strike, and delivering a blow that knocks him clear off his saddle.
When the fourth round pairings are announced, it provides quite the surprise: Miss Lidia Espinosa will ride against Dame Greenly Baerdóttir.
.....
With Onora in the stands watching the joust, Lady Lucretzia Marthane proves the more accessible target for Chana upon the trucco field. She remains unerringly polite, although never initiating conversation herself. She seems far more content to observe her noble peers at play. Dame Crabbe, continuing her eager gossip with Photinè, is quick to suggest a tawdry affair between Lady Marthane and one of the local nobles, and she plies the occultist for her guess to whom would be the likeliest suspect.
Before their turn in the lists, Greenly dismounts, doffs her helm and makes her way privately to speak to Olivia alone.
"Do we wanna do this? I'm not afraid to hurt you, but also, you're like, my friend and coworker and you have a cute face and I'd hate to, like, make it less cute."
She rubs the back of her neck nervously and half frowns, concerned, uncomfortable.
"We could juust, you know, no contest it, ride across with our lances lifted."
Amandine continues to cheer for "Lidia" and Greenly as they make their runs. She's astounded by their success. She hadn't really thought of either of them as "knights" in the sense of being able to ride around and knock people off horses with spears. It just seemed such a military thing to do, and she had never thought of herself as knowing military people.
She is truly shocked by Greenly's unseating of Baron Okerra. To Amandine he seems to be someone who is so very good at all the things he does. In fact, she must admit his competence, sincerity, and ease of manner are very appealing, and he looks pretty darn hot too. That particular round leaves her in silence, divided between being impressed by Greenly and concerned the Baron might have been harmed.
Although she doesn't completely understand the competition, Amandine is fairly certain that Lidia and Greenly are close to dominating the joust. As the idea sinks in, she begins to curtail her enthusiasm. It's one thing to show support, but she doesn't want to seem to be piling on, emphasizing the defeat of other participants. It wouldn't do to start creating bad feelings, possibly grudges against them, among the locals.
"Perhaps it's a noble from out of town." Photinè flutters her eyelashes at Parthena and laughs. "I jest, of course. None of us have had the time for such an affair... At least not yet."
She seems quite happy to lose at Trucco and gossip with Dame Crabbe, eager to soak up all the details she can about her new home.
With Onora busy in the stands watching the Jousting, Chana keeps her attention on Lucretzia. She sets her Trucco spoon aside with a little more force than is necessary and then wanders across the field until she can join in the group of nobles speculating about tax-incomes. She makes sure that Lady Marthane can hear her.
She digs deep into her crash course from Sophia in noble discourse and economics. "I heard you mentioning how to bring in more tax income from your peasants, yes? Chiara Betony, by the way." She shakes hands, does a wobbly curtsy. "I was quite, uh, dismayed, at the landscape on the way in to the Palace of Birdsong. So much potential going to waste." She turns her head from side to side to regard the group "I'm sure your own lands are much better. Though... back in Oppara I've heard about some new methods of governing the populace that are getting far better results."
"Though it seems unintutit- -ahem- unintuitive, you can do a lot better by investing the money you tax back into the peasantry, or lowering taxes for those that prove their productivity. Normally, you'd expect the money you take in to dive, but the folks end up healthier, happier, and doing better work. Soon you'll have more people working hard and more money coming in for everyone."
Abandoning caution to give Olivia a fair chance, Greenly leaves her borrowed shield behind.
She rides faster and stronger than she has ever before, one hand wrapped around the mane of her steed, and when it comes time to strike she lets go, gripping the lance with both hands. She hesitates, but her lance lands- powerfully, shattering across the paladin's chest. Olivia's lance never came close.
Greenly is barely able to land her lance upon her ally's doughty defenses, but when she does, the effect is spectacular. The mighty half-elf's lance explodes into a shower of fragments against Lidia's shield. However, Lidia reminds her ally-turned-opponent and the rest of the audience that she is no slouch of a knight by defiantly staying atop her horse despite the impact.
As the last round and the final pass near, Count Lotheed recognizes that many of the competitors are looking worse for wear. He summons an Abadaran priest kept on retainer for the event to impart some mercy upon the competitors.
The fifth round pairings are announced, pitting Lidia against Sir Tinsley and Greenly against Lieutenant Gortius.
.....
"Well played, my dear," Dame Crabbe congratulates Photinè as she wins the second round of trucco. "I despaired of finding suitable competition, although not as much as I despaired of finding suitable conversation. I'm elated that you've provided respite in both regards. You simply must visit our estate for tea in the near future."
"It is as you say, I suppose," she meekly replies.
Despite her polite acquiescence, you can dimly sense that Lady Marthane harbors some strong response to your ideas. However, she cannot bring herself to give voice to such things, perhaps feeling it improper.
Winded from her bout with Olivia, Greenly takes up her shield once more and rides half-heartedly across the field, still managing to shatter her lance upon the Lieutenant in her sturdy armor.
Although not the most powerful strike, Lidia's lance is carefully aimed and manages to unseat Sir Tinsley. Greenly barely manages to remain in the saddle as Lieutenant Gortius' lance strikes her, but Greenly shows her true power by delivering a blow that knocks the lieutenant to the ground.
At the end of five rounds, Lidia Espinosa ranks third with 9 points, edging out Lord Titus, who has 8 points. Baron Okerra finishes in second with 11 points, and Greenly Baerdóttir comes away with 16 points. Although the uncouth warrior woman may not be the darling of the assembled aristocracy, the roaring cheers make it clear that she is a favorite of the commoners who fill the stands.
"It seems we shall be granted a rematch," Baron Okerra says to Greenly, offering his hand in sportsmanship. "I shall not underestimate you a second time."
With Lady Marthane admitting herself into the group conversation, Chana nods to the others that were talking economics and then trots over to talk with Lady Marthane directly. "Nice to meet you. Lady Marthane, right? Chiara Betony." She extends a hand to shake. Her handshake is firm and bony, in her rather direct attempt at homing in on a potential ally, she forgets that her gnarled knuckles and elbow spurs do not a comfortable handshake make.
She lowers her voice, excluding the other group from the conversation. "You're interested in economics? I don't know too much, really. Just, when I heard that some simple changes could make the lives of both nobles and the common folk so much better... well, it stuck in my head. I don't know why it ain- it isn't more common."
Chana walks Lucretzia away from clear earshot of the rest of the Trucco field. "What do you think?"
She takes advantage of the prompting to carefully watch Lady Marthane's reactions, topics of choice, and so on. All to get a sense for other stances the Lady might have.
Badly battered after the last bout, Greenly quaffs two potions, walking away just strong enough for the only fight that matters.
She pointedly does not shake the Baron's hand, arms crossed. "I'm glad you, like, recognize what's about to happen," she snorts.
Her resolve is steel, her aim near perfect. As she rides, her braids flow out from under the tiger's head helmet and she is a frightening image, a war goddess, charging forth with both hands on the lance. She screams as her lance makes contact, splintering across Okerra's armor.
Amandine frowns when she sees Greenly refuse Okerra's hand. She fumes that even a simple request like 'don't f%&! things up for the rest of us' is beyond Greenly's ability to manage.
Amandine no longer has a quandary over divided loyalties. She throws herself squarely behind rooting for the Baron. Maybe I don't know much about him, but I know too much about Greenly. At least he knows how to be a decent person.
| 3 people marked this as a favorite. |
Baron Okerra briefly purses his lips when Greenly refuses his hand, but if the gesture truly offends him, he hides it well. Rather than mince any more words, he simply nods his head and returns to his attendant for help mounting his horse and securing his lance.
As the final two competitors ride to opposite ends of the list, a deathly quiet falls upon the field. Not even the song of birds or the clunk of trucco balls dares intrude upon the air. The horses gallop forth, one carrying an Ulfen war goddess, while atop the other rides an armored avatar of Taldan discipline.
In an instant that leave the audience breathless, on the edge of their seats, the two competitors' lances meet.
A shower of wood and metal wreathes the two champions as their lances explode upon each other.
Both warriors strike the ground like falling stars.
Greenly rises first, followed by Baron Okerra a few moments later. He struggles even to take a knee, wracked with coughs from the impact of Greenly's lance. His attendant and the Abadaran priest rush over to vouchsafe his health. Count Lotheed walks to the fence beside the list and likewise observes his guest's condition.
"I yield," are the first words the baron can force free between coughing bouts.
"If we rode against each other one hundred times, the result would be the same on every pass," he states while affixing his eyes upon Greenly, pain clouding the true emotion behind them. "I don't care to discover which of us would break first, so I yield."
"We don't need, hah, a hundred times, Baron, to see who would win," the barbarian gulps, sweaty and fatigued. "We've already fought twice, and already I've, like, beaten you. Settle for unseating me. Nobody else could."
She turns and walks around him, gloating, melodramatic. "Here you lie, broken at my feet, and so I'll take pity on you, and, like, accept your surrender."
Greenly offers him a hand and pulls him up, being gracious now that their little play is almost over. From inside her helm, face hidden to all but Okerra, she grins and winks surreptitiously, secretly confessing that she's only pretending to be the villain.
"Gotta play it up for the crowd, big boy. Give the people what they want."
Now the clear victor, she spins back around to face the audience once more, arms raised in pride and victory before bowing and blowing kiss after kiss.
Greenly and Baron Okerra's last joust doesn't incapacitate the Baron, but from where Amandine is in the stands, he seems to be in distress.
She quickly leaves the audience to find Okerra and check on his condition.
Such an insane 'sport'!
Chana briefly interrupts her discussion with Lady Marthane to peek at the outcome of the jousting. When she hears Greenly's gloating and cawing, she grins behind her mask. "Ah huh. That's our Greens." She offers out loud to Lady Marthane, as if that explains everything.
This time, it is Baron Okerra's turn to dismiss Greenly's hand. He even shrugs off assistance from his attendant and pushes himself back to his feet. With the wind returning to his lungs, the retired military man simply nods his head in lieu of a handshake.
"Well fought. Congratulations on your victory," he says in an even tone, no hint of sarcasm or bitterness to be detected. Nevertheless, it seems that he does not pick up on Greenly's effort at playing the heel.
Count Lotheed summons the two warriors upon a shallow wooden dais constructed before the audience stands. In a polished voice, he speaks words of commendation for both of them before issuing their prizes. To Baron Okerra, he presents a silver chalice etched with heraldry that incorporates the image of an owl.
"To our champion, Greenly Baerdóttir, I proudly present these symbol of her victory," Count Lotheed announces. "This silver statuette and a bouquet of hyacinths to give to a 'spiritual companion,' to whom she would like to dedicate her victory."
Thus, the Ulfen warrior woman is left with a ring of purple flowers in one hand and a large silver ferret statue in the other, with the gentle, polite clapping of the aristocracy and the roaring cheers of the peasantry filling the air around her.
”It seems that civilian life has dulled my skills far more quickly than anticipated,” he sighs. He turns to look upon Greenly, basking in the adulation of the crowd. ”She is your sword, correct? Guide her well. This victory has lionized her to the people. It would be a waste not to use this opportunity to serve as an example - for noble and commoner alike.”
Another heavy sigh drops from his lips. His face is an open book. The Baron clearly rues his defeat not for being denied personal glory but because he’s lost the chance to make a statement to his noble neighbors.
Bloody and bruised, Greenly smiles and gleams regardless, always happy to be the center of attention, especially when it's positive. She waves her bouquet proudly and thrusts the ferret statue into the air, a trophy won honestly.
Seeing Chana watching, she rushes over after the ceremony, pleased as punch. "Chiara, Lady Betony, did you see? I totally knocked that oaf on his ass!" She snorts and beams with pride. "Twice!"
Noticing the Lady Marthane for the first time, she grows awkward. "Uh, who, who is, like, this? Who are you? I'm, ah, Sir Greenly. Baerdottìr, obviously. I just won the joust. I didn't insult anybody, nope. I'm sure the Baron is a very nice man, and he might even be, like, competent or whatever. How are you?"
Chana throws her fist into the air, pointing it in Greenly's direction with her pinky and thumb extended, a symbol of recognition from back in the Narrows. "From the shouts, you knocked a few of them right out Greens, huh? Maybe Amandine can smooth things over with the baron afterward. He's a fine fellow, with his head on straight - well, it was on straight last I saw him. Maybe you've given him a twist, eh Greens?"
She turns back to Lady Marthane. "Sorry Lady Marthane, we were talking about taxes? No need for dancing around the topic, you're among friends here." She goes to slap Lucretzia amiably on the back before pausing, Chammy's words faintly in her mind. Awkwardly, she puts her hand back behind her back. She settles for lowering her voice to speak privately. "I think we all agree the exploiting that's been going on around Merratt is horrible. The question's only what we can do about it, yeah? The taxes can't all disappear - I think. But something else can be done. I'm sure. Whatever it is has to be something that won't earn the local people a Taldoran legion coming and burning their homes down." Chana remembers pretty vividly the Opparan guard doing just that for regions of the Narrows that got too out of line.
Photinè's second round victory is the high point of trucco for her, as Dame Crabbe comes back to win the third and fourth rounds of the game. Although this near sweep leaves the noblewoman quite ecstatic, she remains impressed by Photinè's ability to pick up the game. For better or for worse, Parthena will be following her new friend closely during the Jubilee.
On the periphery of the trucco fields, Lady Chiara's words manage to coax Lady Marthane from her shy introspection. Her eyes no longer dart around the palace grounds like a nervous hare, and instead she focuses intently upon the Betony scion.
"Alas, perhaps some conflicts are inevitable," she sighs. "But if the Phalanx were to bring fire against Taldor's own people, they would surely find a conflagration rising to meet them. It would be most unpleasant...for them," she half whispers the final words.
.....
The day's games reach their conclusion as the sky grows orange, the sun drifting towards the lake and forest on the western horizon. A servant clad in the Lotheed family livery calls out in a shrill voice. He announces that a short musical performance, capped off by a brief speech from the Count, will be held in the palace gardens as the final dressings are added to the dining tables in the ballroom.
With the tournament done and the initial seeds sown with Lady Marthane, Chana bids her new friend (?) goodbye and rejoins the rest of the party to fill them in on what she's seen while on the Trucco field. In particular, she notes "Not sure wot Marthane's angle is. I think she's a noble, but she seems like she wants to totally ruin all the nobles too. I'd say she's definitely on the side of 'elpin' the people. Though she's two broken coppah's away from doing something real reckless... that's the feel I get at least."
"Photine, you see the little Sepsinia? I thought, since we heard that she was Martella's friend, she'd be a bit more... like Martella? But she looks like a rat could chase her back 'ome, if you know what I mean. Somethin's up with her."
----
Her findings shared, Chana goes in search of Onora. After meeting the lady the previous day, she had the suspicion that this wouldn't be a great evening for the Honorary Tribune. Once she locates Onora, she watches how the woman interacts with the other visitors - or doesn't - to try to sense how she's being received.
Photinè enthusiastically agrees to visit Dame Crabbe at her estate, and in return, entreats Parthena to visit Stachys once the Betony Estate is up to scratch. She bids her friend au revoir, until later, and joins the rest of the party as they make their way to the gardens to watch the speech.
"Brava, Sir Greenly!" She leans in to greet the champion of the hour with a kiss on each cheek. "I could hear the clash of the lances all the way in the field. It must have been a thing to behold!" She pulls away with a huge smile, her eyes creasing with delight. "You're going to be very popular these next few days. Be sure to save me a few dances, ma chérie."
At Chana's observations, she nods seriously. "Parthena is a bit of a gossip, certainly, but she obviously thinks the world of her daughter. I find it hard to believe she is oblivious to Sepsinia's unhappiness; more likely she's trying to protect the girl's dignity by keeping the matter quiet. As it happens, I've secured us an invitation to the Crabbe estate. Perhaps the ladies will be more comfortable in their own home."
As Chana rises from her garden chair to join Photinè and reconvene to congratulate their jousting peers, Lady Marthane excuses herself, with a slight blush, to go powder her nose before dinner. Returning to the edge of the horse-trammeled grass that marks the jousting list, the Lotheedar folk who'd been bribed into the stands now pour out to encircle and congratulate Greenly.
Tribune Onora, however, separates from the crush of common folk and attempts to strike up conversation with the noble attendees - who seem more intent on offering their counsel to Lady Espinosa and Baron Okerra. They praise their form, technique, and bravery to the utter exclusion of even acknowledging the champion.
As the excitement of the joust wanes, two streams of bodies pour away from the lists. The commoners are practically herded away from the estate grounds by Sir Gusairne and his well-dressed guards. Leftover sandwiches, half-eaten figs and apples, and other crumbs are shoved into their hands before they are themselves shoved onto the road back to town.
The nobles guests retreat to the garden veranda at the rear of the palace. Here, a marble porch overlooks a garden of bushes, green grass, and hedges cut into rampant lions and owls, all arranged around a fountain. The tweeting, tittering, and hooting of songbirds arranged in gold cages around the porch nearly drowns out the harpists playing at the foot of the stairs.
Dame Parthena steers her daughter by the shoulders, occasionally pointing out a nobleman and whispering into Sepsinia's ear. The older Crabbe's face beams with excitement when Count Lotheed appears, walking down a path skirting the veranda, accompanied by his cousin Lord Titus. Parthena gives her daughter a shake and redoubles her excited whispering, with Count Lotheed clearly the subject of discussion. The last vestiges of color drain from Sepsinia's already pale complexion, quite obviously worried sick by her overbearing mother.
Your host, the lord of the Palace of Birdsong, strolls confidently towards the marble stairs to give his speech as his guests array themselves around the fountain and at the foot of the veranda.
|
Lidia graciously accepts the noble's praise, but notices Onora getting sidelined in the midst. Lidia sidesteps slightly during the conversation and gently puts her arm around Onora's back and says "Jousting is quite the incredible sport, don't you agree? I think we should invest in more areas to really get everyone involved. In fact, there's a place nearby here that could be fun to have an annual tournament. Stachys, eh? Good weather, nice landscape, and the folk are already into it."
----------------
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
The hero of the evening and a trained bodyguard, Greenly catches sight of the tripwire and rushes forth to tackle the Count and get him out of harm's way.
"Get down, Mr. Count!"
Chana strides over to join Lidia in supporting Onora, though she focuses her attention on the woman herself rather than in advertising Stachys to the other nobles. "Tribune Piscum! Its so wonderful to see you here. How did you enjoy the jousting? From the way Sir Greenly was yelling, I'd say it was quite the final round..?"
She lowers her voice. "Lets get you part of the group first, then you can worry about gettin' all these block'eads to think about Stachys."
If Onora seems amenable to that plan, Chana does introductions, making sure to include some interesting details about Stachys that would attract a noble's attention. Or at least, she tries to.
----
Having learned what she has about the Count, Chana doesn't immediately spring into action upon seeing the tripwire. But when Greenly shouts, she rushes forwards with the barbarian.
While walking along the white stone pathway leading towards the veranda gardens, Onora offers a jittery start as "Lidia" makes unexpected contact. Nevertheless, the noblewoman's words seem to calm and comfort the tribune. She nods along, catching her apparent patron's intent.
"I must say, I'm right surprised for any noble to have my back," Onora says quietly to Lidia. "Hope you won't regret taking my side. It might put off some of your noble neighbors."
The tone she heaps upon the last two words, and the sharp way she aims her thumb towards the well-dressed crowd moving around you, makes it clear that she thinks little of putting them off.
.....
Greenly is quick, but not quick enough. Although her adrenaline grants celerity to her lean muscles as always, she only has time enough to interpose herself between the Count and the pending shot.
With a sharp twang that seems to silence the songbirds, the crossbow bolt flies forth and pierces Greenly's dust-coated armor, plunging into her back.
...
A chorus of gasps and cries rises from the crowd of nobles. Faces run pale in the afternoon light. Sepsinia Crabbe faints into her mother's strong arms. Baron Okerra claps a hand to the stout sword at his hip, and his eyes dart around looking for signs of attack.
A complex whirl of emotions crosses Count Lotheed's face as he sees the Ulfen champion stumble, taking the shot meant for him. Anger and surprise are paramount, tinged with hints of fear. He makes no move to catch or support Greenly, but he barks a command to Sir Gusairne at his right hand.
"Fetch some anti-toxin at once! And dispatch the guards to find our would-be assassin!" his stern voice carries across the veranda.
"Oh!" As soon as she realizes what's happening, Photinè hurries forward to support Greenly, curling an arm protectively around her friend's waist. She's seen the barbarian take worse hits, but can't help worrying all the same. "Are you alright, chérie? They'll be just a moment with that anti-toxin," she coos reassuringly.
Chana reaches Greenly only in time for the barbarian to be struck by the bolt. For a moment, she just pauses in astonishment that Greens would do something so self-sacrificial. But she quickly sets that aside as Photine arrives. While Photine supports Greenly, Chana fishes about in her small satchel for the potion of delay poison she picked up back in Oppara. She murmurs "Greens, 'eres somethin' if you need it. It'll stop that poison in its tracks."
Also, she rapidly chitters a susurrus of spellcasting, trying to work out what poison it is and what can be done to counteract it. Its a trick she's used many a time back in the Narrows - with mixed success.
Greenly is dead weight in Photinè's arms, the poison having thoroughly addled her. She smiles and titters at the two ladies around her, complimenting them and slurring her speech. "I, like, love you guys. You two are my best friends. I'm, like, going to remember this night, foreverrrr!" Pulling herself out of Photinè's arms, she places the palm of her hand directly on the lady's forehead and pats twice. "I'm okay, I swear. I, like, I can totally ride a horse. Give me a horse, and I'll show you. I'm, like, I'm gonna, I'm gonna go."
At that point the woman gratefully drinks the offered potion, immediately sobering up some, and smiles a pained smile at Photinè and Chiara. "I can't believe I got myself shot in the ass for that uptight dingbat," she murmurs, still barely holding herself upright, but now decidedly more coherent..
She separates herself from the center of attention, marching across the hall and thrusting her still clutched bouquet towards Lady Marthane before finding Baroness Voinum.
"Told you I could ride a horse," she says proudly, showing off the trophy with her eyebrows raised.
When it becomes clear that Greenly will pull through, Chana turns her eye to the crowd. Traps like this didn't spontaneously appear out of the aether. Probably someone in this very crowd was at least involved in funding the trap, if not organizing it. She looks out to see people's reactions to the Count being attacked, specifically looking to see if anyone looks angry, annoyed, or frustrated by the result.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
"Yes, yes, we're all quite impressed, dear," Baroness Voinum says, as though speaking to an attention-seeking child, "Now go get yourself patched up before you bleed all over me."
Despite treating the incident the most casually of all present, perhaps owing to seeing far worse during her career in the Phalanx, Baroness Voinum's voice carries more respect than criticism for Greenly. She would never admit it, but she is doubly impressed by both the coarse woman's skill at arms and ability to take a shot for someone else.
Count Lotheed directs his servants to hustle the guests inside the ballroom for dinner, then he commands his guards to investigate "the scene of the crime." He also sternly instructs them not to let anyone interfere with their examination.
Dame Parthena hoists her fainted daughter up. Her face registers a sense of conflict, likely torn between sincere worry for her daughter's well-being and worry about whether dainty damsels are currently in fashion among courtly men.
Baron Okerra is clearly frightened. This attempted assassination has presumably rekindled painful memories of the Exaltation Massacre, leaving him very agitated.
Even before Greenly stumbles over and thrusts the bouquet of hyacinth’s into her hands, Lady Marthane wears a look of surprise that differs from all those around her. She attempts to conceal it, but you see through her ruse. She is frustrated that Count Lotheed remains standing. However, you also recognize the look of someone about to bolt before they can be pinched by the authorities.
"Let us put aside the latest failure of that damnable Night Swan," Count Lotheed declares as he welcomes his guests into the ballroom. "The palace dining room, resplendent though it may be, is simply too small to contain all the noble, deserving friends of the Lotheed family. Thus, you are privileged to enjoy the finest meal in the most lavish hall in all of Meratt."
Purple Finch guides you to your seats along one of the long tables, just as the other guests' jesters lead them. As the forty or so guests are seated, a veritable parade marches through the ballroom. A levy of servants, dressed as sheep, lead a procession of steers and lambs around the table - introducing the guests to their meat before it is taken aside to be slaughtered, sliced, and seared.
"What a sorry failure of a servant," Lord Titus loudly declares, delivering a stinging slap upon the back of Purple Finch. "Could you not provide a wash room or even clean clothes for your masters?" His eyes sharply dart towards your party, making it abundantly clear whom he really criticizes.
|
|
Lidia stands up and places a hand on Purple Finch's shoulder. "Finch, would you please escort Greenly to a washroom so she may clean up?" She looks over her shoulder to Greenly. Though Lidia had already gone and changed after the joust, Greenly was still muddy, in her armour, and bears the wound where she took the poisoned barb. Lidia just gives a nod, and tilts her head towards Purple Finch, as a 'you really should' message.
Then she addresses Lord T&~~. "My Lord, would you please not strike my jester? Let us leave all violence at the joust, not the dinner table."