I glance around to see who my competitors might be.
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"Good day and greetings my fine man. Though I do not claim to be the best marksman, I shall try my hand at all three of the contests! Sir Per'Edhel Half-Elven, Order of the Lion, here to test my skill. I've my own steed for jousting, and armaments, as you can see."
Nodding, I smile warmly and step into cue with the gathering contestants, entrusting my wards to keep watch over each other.
"Master Hawkins, perhaps we can try our skill? Though we cannot compete at the same time, as one of us must stay with Morla for her safety and to describe the festivities. Archery seems more suited to your talents, and jousting to mine. Would you care to enter?"
"Let us not miss the festivities. Perhaps we can show them what it means to be in the King's service, Master Hawkins." I smile, and making sure Morla is safe, follow behind my company. Though jovial, my eyes scan the crowd to ensure the safety of my vassal and ward.
"I... erm, well, yes it is a pleasure to meet you, madame. Sir Per'Edhel Half-Elven, Order of the Lion, at your service. I have spoken with the master of the Red House and he has agreed to host my company for the duration of the festivities. So nice to know that Caedwall has such marvels to see, I mean such beautiful sights, erm I mean thank you." Awkwardly I don my helmet to hide the flush rising to my cheeks and ear tips.
"My friends, I have returned. Our steeds are being tended to by a gentleman called Welan. Have you seen, or encountered, anything of interest or worth buying?" My eyes scan the shops, and fall upon the chalk drawing, but its origin is unknown to me. Seeing the pointed eared maiden, I whisper to my companions, Morla and Hawkins:
"If I am not mistaken, there may in fact be a true elf here among us! Can you imagine?" I keep myself occupied in conversation, and blush as my gaze passes over the curtained tent's visible wares.
"Aye, Kingdom bred, they have served me well. I thank you." After leaving the horses in the stablehand's company, I make my way back to the crowded part of town to seek out my squire and ward.
"A fine community you have here. If you do not mind, I would like to see Welan now to make preparations for my steeds so I may return to my ward and charge." I listen to the bustle of the throng of people at the heart of town in comparison to the soft rolling of the waves nearby, and take a deep breath. "A fine day for a festival," I think to myself, "I hope that we all will have time to enjoy ourselves."
I firmly grip his hand in greeting. "Thad Kemp, I am Sir Per'Edhel Half-Elven, of His Majesty's Royal Order of the Lion. You may call me Percy if you wish, many do. Though if like Sir Edhel will suffice. My company would greatly appreciate your hospitality. There are three of us; myself, young Squire Hawkins, and our mysterious Moonlight Morla. We have two steeds, which hopefully Master Buss can accommodate. I would ask that you please accept these drakes for being our host." After shaking his hand I will place six gold coins from my purse into his palm. "As the mayor is busy, we would be honored for you to be our guide. This is my first time to Caedwall, your knowledge is welcome to be shared."
"Take your fill of local gossip and trade then, this is a time for celebration! I shall return momentarily." Knowing the prophet is in good care I leave Arinen to follow beside them and make my way through the crowd to the heavyset man. "Well met and good morrow! Might the Red House Tavern have available rooms where my companions may enjoy the festivities at our leisure and stables for our weary steeds?" I smile warmly at the fellow.
Per'Edhel stands tall at 5'2", almost a full head above most of the human company he keeps. His armor gleams, emblazoned with the symbol of the Order of the Lion, and he wears it proudly. His helm held under his arm, Percy's features are sharp and angular, but with a subdued softness. His fair complexion is contrasted by straight black hair tucked behind pointed ears and falling to the small of his back. Verdant eyes gaze over the celebrations, admiring the scenery but also with a practiced knack for seeing hidden dangers. A rapier hangs at his waist. He leads a large white mare outfitted in a light skirt which also bears regalia of The Order. Carefully strapped to the saddle is an exquisite musket in pristine condition. Smiling broadly, I walk the crowded streets of Caedwall, absorbing the sights, sounds, and smells of Freyday. The reins of Arinen held loosely in my hand, the steed faithfully follows behind me, the seer Morla perched upon her saddle. Turning to young Master Hawkins, I speak in Sheax, "A wondrous throng gathered here, my friend, though we may yet draw unneeded attentions. The Red House Tavern seems as good a place as any to rest ourselves. If you would tend to Arinen, I will make preparations with the tavernkeeper while you and Morla enjoy the festivities." Looking back towards the prophet, "I shall return momentarily, Squire Hawkins will look after you. Do you require anything?"
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