The Arconian Open

[Blade]

Blade had finished his morning meditation in the East but he could not get the thought of a human swinging a Taalruum sabre out of his head.

Is the humans' tournament today, Blade idly wondered.

Blade wandered back down the track to see.

[Moonitic]

A bold princess, posing as another, took quick strides to the registration table. All eyes fell to her as she loudly proclaimed, "I would like to join the competition."

"Lady Moon, are you sure you want to do that after your...accident?" someone that the girl did not know said.

Ken-Dall's eyes narrowed. She looked, for a moment, less like the Arconian scribe & more like the spoiled brat sister that she really was. "I assure you that I am just fine. Sign me up. Now."

"Yes...all right..." The man said.

As "Lady Moon" turned, she noticed a familiar figure with a familiar smirk on his face. "Excuse me," she said to the man. He nodded as she walked away.

"Go tell the Queen," he whispered to his companion. "Quickly!"

Meanwhile, Ken-Dall moved toward the imposing figure's back. In a low, secretive voice that she tried hard to make sound like her syrupy sister, she said, "Fancy meeting you here, Tellurine."

[Darion McNair]

The door to his room shut behind him and Darion made his way down the inn’s upstairs hallway. He had to find where this tournament would be held and when it would start. It would be a shame to miss it after he’d traveled all this way from Bosconia. Heading down the stairs, he gingerly massaged the back of his neck. “For fifteen gold coins a night this place sure wasn’t all that comfortable.” he muttered to himself.
He ducked under an unusually low ceiling as he came to the bottom and headed for the front desk. His height had always made it hard for him to make himself inconspicuous, especially in a town like this where people seemed rather...stunted in their growth.
“Good morning.” He greeted the lady at the front desk with a kind smile. The courteous gesture seemed to lift her spirits as she smiled back and greeted him in return. He paid the bill and with a quick adjustment of his green cloak and elegant Bosconian weapon, went out the door and on his way.
Scanning the crowded street, he picked a direction and began to walk. He observed those near him as he moved down the street, not intrusively of course but his few years in his homeland’s military had taught him to keep a watchful eye. Merchants of almost every product imaginable lined the streets, leading Darion to wonder if this town even had a town square.
Looking ahead he spotted a clearing and an increasing number of people with weapons at their sides. Drawing nearer he saw that the clearing actually was the town square, blocked off with rope. "The merchants must have gotten kicked out." he thought. He made his way through an on looking crowd and soon saw what they were looking at. Within the rope enclosure he observed armed combatant obviously warming up for the tournament. Some going through footwork, others doing solo bladework routines and still others sparring with each other.
Pausing a moment, Darion observed a pair of sparring partners. As they increased their speed, their bladework began to fall apart. He shook his head and remembered something his training master had taught him about parries: “Parries are like garlic: just enough is good, a lot is bad.” Obviously they had never heard that metaphor. He watched for a few more moments and then decided that he should go ahead and register. Looking around for a break in the rope line, he spotted one with a booth setup next to it.

“You here to enter?” The man at the booth asked in a gruff voice. Darion nodded. “Alright then. I’ll need you to put your name on this entry list and submit your weapon for a check.”
“What for?” Darion replied with confusion, not familiar with that practice.
“To ensure there hasn’t been any illegal modifications made to the weapon.” returned the man. Darion complied nonetheless, he had his weapon checked before for damage and for safety while sparring but never for this. The man handed him a quill and the entry list and he wrote his name on the next available line. A few lines above his name he noticed an entry named ‘Swordsman’. "That’s interesting." he wondered. "Why would someone put that down? Perhaps I’ll see this ‘Swordsman’ in the tournament and find out." He returned the list and replaced his weapon after the check was complete. Then, with one last look around he entered the tournament area. The Arconian Open would soon begin.

[Zelda]

Bravo Darion.

[Lord Tellurine]

Tellurine spun around, his long blonde hair cascading against his orange skin. “The name is Sven Lutefisk,” he hissed. “Must I always remind you, Ken-Dall,” he added with a cruel stare.

She glanced around to see if anyone was watching them and then glared right back at him. “You want to get us both into trouble?” she snapped. “The minute they find me out, they’ll find you out!”

“Which begs the question,” he began eyeing her carefully, “as to why you are out of your room and down here!”

“That room is boring!” she complained like a spoiled little girl. “And I’m down here entering Lady Moon into the tournament!”

Tellurine’s face flashed red with anger. “She can’t compete! She’s not even here!” he argued, forgetting himself.

“Oh, yes she is,” smiled Ken-Dall, slipping back into her sweet-sounding sister voice. “And when she wins… I’ll be Queen. And for once in my life I won’t be living in the shadow of my “perfect” sister.”

Zelda suddenly approached, ending the conversation. “Lady Moon, I was told you were down here… What’s going on?”

“I’m entering the tournament,” Ken-Dall replied with a smile.

“Why?” the Queen asked.

“Because Lady Moon will rule Arconia,” she said politely.

Lord Tellurine groaned when Ken-Dall talked about Lady Moon in the third-person.

Queen Zelda shifted her gaze to Sven. “Have we met?” she asked the oddly colored man.

“I think not,” Tellurine lied. “I would remember a Queen as beautiful as yourself.” He finished with a slight bow.

“You’re very kind,” Queen Zelda said. “I hope to see you at the banquet tonight. All the competitors are invited.”

Tellurine answered back, “I’ll be there.”

Queen Zelda looked back at who she thought was Lady Moon. “I’ll see you at the banquet also, Lady Moon. I’m sure that just like past banquets you’ll be begging to entertain us with a reading from one of your works.”

Tellurine smiled at Ken-Dall. “That would be a slice of heaven! I have heard such great things about Lady Moons writings.” She glared back at him.

“Of course,” she replied to the Queen, with little enthusiasm.

“See you this evening,” the Queen said and departed.

“What’s the matter with you?” Ken-Dall snapped when Zelda was out of earshot.

“You want to be Lady Moon,” Tellurine told her, “then you be Lady Moon.” As he turned to leave he added, “You just might find out that living in the shadow is easier than casting the shadow.”

Especially if there was bad lighting.

[Swordsman]

Darion, welcome! Very good to have you, and can't wait to learn more!

[Zelda]

Tellurine, I LOVE that last sentence....

[Blade]

I came back to the board cos I've got cable on my uni campus and can write as much as I want. However I was kind of relying on this tournament to get my character involved, but the way this is heading, I'm once again going to have pass permission to some people to use my character, as over the course of the next three/four weeks, I have my exams/finals coming up then I'm no longer living on campus for a month and may not have net access at all.
For the meantime, my character is just waiting for the tournament to start.
I've told Swordsman my plots in the past and university holidays always seem to get in the way and I know how busy he is now, so which one of you lovely characters should I email about the plan I've got.

[Zelda]

Blade` PM me, I'll see what I can arrange.

[Darion McNair]

"Hey you, that's my spot!" someone shouted as Darion was about to undo his cloak and sit. He made eye contact with the man and saw he really wasn't in a good mood. Darion was trying to find a place to set himself down and prepare for the coming day of competition but it seemed that every darn square foot of the tournament area was taken already.

“My apologies, I didn’t know.” He replied and walked off. It seemed he’d be lucky if a fight didn’t start BEFORE the tournament. Spotting a vacant area, he made a b-line for it. He arrived there and waited for the expected ‘Hey you!’ but it never came. With a big sigh of relief he undid his cloak, spread it on the ground and sat. He was always taught that there were two essential things to be done before any competition: observing your possible opponents and warming up sufficiently. One without the other is useless. He took note of each fighter around him as they warmed up and the holes in their respective styles.

“I’m sure you didn’t sign up for the tournament just to sit around.” someone said. Darion looked to his left and saw a rather stout man standing before him, weapon strapped to his side. His posture suggested that he was trying to intimidate, Darion didn’t care to notice.

“Of course not.” Darion replied, standing to greet the man. “I’m merely checking out my competition, which would be you I guess.” He held out a hand in welcoming. “The name’s Darion McNair.” The man took the hand and gave it a hearty shake.

“Nice to meet ya.” The man replied. “Gonna be a big crowd here today, more than I’ve seen in a tournament in a while.”

“You don’t say.” said Darion, looking around. There did seem to be quite a lot entered in the tournament. It was then that he spotted a woman of exceptional beauty making her way past the registration booth. She seemed to stick out like a sore thumb in a mostly male crowd.“Who is that?” He asked rather stunned, his eyes still fixed on the woman. Her movements through the swarm of competitors were as careless as if she were taking a stroll down a sandy beach.

“Who, her? Don’t know, looks a little like the Lady Moon though.” He responded with a chuckle. “I heard she’s entering today though, don't know her name.”

“I wonder what she gets her opponents with, her sword or her good looks.” Darion muttered, finally managing to take his eyes off her.

“Don’t underestimate her now, if she fights anything like Lady Moon then we’re gonna have some problems.” He responded, folding is arms across a very broad chest.

“I didn’t mean to imply she didn’t look like a challenge.” There was a lengthy silence before Darion finally added. “Well I have to warm up. It was nice talking to you.” The man mention he had to do the same and the conversation ended.

Darion found an empty strip of ground next to his cloak so he decided to start with footwork. He began slowly at first with simple advances and retreats. The trunk of his body staying very still, merely resting on his powerful legs as they carried him. His speed increased and he began adding more moves: crossover advances and retreats, then advance lunges and retreat lunges, then still more.

He worked hard to keep his mind focused, though his thoughts wondering back to the woman he had seen earlier. Who was she? And, more importantly, would she be more of a challenge on the tournament strip?

This certainly was an unusual country, certainly nothing like Bosconia. But he liked what he saw and fancied the idea of staying for a long time.

[Blade]

It was the day of the tournament.

Blade walked slowly and casually back to the tournament grounds. He stopped by a small flowing creek for a mouthful of water.

Blade dipped his head in the water, shook it and slicked his hair back. He dusted his hands off on his leather pants and idly began to finger his sabre.

Blade was beginning to get the battle itch. He was ready.

He sniffed the air. He could smell rust. Blade checked his sabres. Blade grinned devilishly. The rust was not from his blades.

Blade finally found his way back to the tournament grounds. He took a deep breath and then began to cackle a beastly sound.

A few humans looked at Blade and moved away quickly. They were fearful of the strange creature.

Blade laughed, as he could smell clearly, the rust of many weapons. Humans, he thought.

Blade took a seat under a giant of a tree. Three humans approached him but Blade just snarled at them. The humans scampered off to look for a spot elsewhere.

Humans

[Moonitic]

(a round of ale at the Bitter End for this, my 1700th post!)

Ken-Dall glanced around at the competitors, noting their particular styles as they practiced. Well, that is what those who looked at her perceived. In reality, she checked out their...assets. Every now & then a particularly attractive specimen would grace her eye. She would stop, smile, & laugh as she went on her way, knowing that they noticed her too. It proved rather easy to distract some of these boys that liked to call themselves men. No wonder her addle brained sister enjoyed Arconia so much!

But she felt eyes on her. Piercing eyes. Eyes, it seemed, that did not want to leave her. It seemed she had caught the attention of someone, & caught it well.

[Zelda]

The Queen was harassed. Not just your ususal "the king is missing now what happens next" harrassed but "The king is missing we must find his sucessor and where did all these people come from and where am I supposed to put them" harassed. The banquet was in a few hours and people were still registering for the tourney. Colin and Mortas had inexplicitly stopped talking to each other and there was a suspicous orange man who looked like Lady Moon's attorney wandering around calling Lady Moon Ken-dall. To top it all off Lady Moon had started talking in the third person and entered the tourney.

The queen sigh as she flopped onto her bed. She wondered ideally if there was another way to find the sucessor to the throne....this was all a tad too hetic for her liking.

[135711]

Lady Mango threw her gear into her bag, running down the stairs as fast as she could to catch the 6:00 coach. She boarded and sat in the front, keeping her swords away from the other passengers. The coachman glanced suspiciously at her stuff throughout the journey, and nervously gave her the wrong directions. Mango got off the first coach and boarded the second coach, sitting forward again and encouraging the coachman to make good time so she could make the deadlines. Running into the room she glanced around and saw that the fencers were already in play, she would have to wait for the next group. A small ferret approached her smiling and glancing nervously at her. 'hello ferret, how are you today' the ferret twisted her little nose, 'well' she replied ferretly 'i have been winning!!! how are you and your little socks' Lady Mango proudly unwound her brand new calf high socks and displyed them. An eppeeist, Lord Bug-eyed, viewing the scence, scurried toward them rapidly "aha lady mango, late again i see, i will yellow card you for that, brown card you for your socks and black-guard you for your flimsy attire" Lady mango deftly adjusted her whalebone jacket and poo pooed him.

[lochinvar]

Hear, hear for the whalebone bustier...er, I mean, jacket!

And I just love the socks... thigh-high fishnet, aren't they? Yes, very lovely...

[135711]

they were lace and the color was pink. thanks i knew the whale bone would get you, it always does [she said with a snarl and signed off....]

[Darion McNair]

The sun was climbing the sky and Darion’s nerves were beginning to wear thin. He had already gone through two sets of footwork/bladework warmups. Anymore warming up and he’d probably begin to tire. There he sat on his green cloak, he glanced down, examining for the hundredth time the cloak’s brooch that was in the shape of his family’s coat of arms. The symbol of the falcon with an olive branch in its beak brought back memories he wished he could forget.

His mind flashed back in time and Darion saw the familiar image himself in an oversized, hooded cloak pushing a covered cart down a muddy, town street. He wasn’t the only one in the town lately, he entered the marketplace and noticed a couple dozen others browsing the different merchant stands. He smiled discreetly, his boys were right on time.

And then there were the guards, six....seven....eight. Eight would fall easily. They would secure the marketplace and fight out from there. The town did not have that big of an enemy presence to begin with, they just needed to make sure they found and killed the Field Marshall in charge of the town, that would send a message to everyone. He knew the rest of the Bosconian people would revolt, having a newfound hope. Today would be the start of the freeing of his land, let the uprising begin.

With as much strength as he could manage he threw off the cloak to reveal his rapier at his side. Drawing it and raising it high he let loose a shout that signaled his men to fly into action. The two dozen in the marketplace drew their concealed weapons and in a bloody wave of surprise, overtook the confused enemy guards.

From that, his mind skipped to an image of himself in what looked like a small governmental office. He saw himself, sword drawn. Its point was an inch away from the neck of a rather shrewd looking fellow in an officers uniform. “Do you really think you’ll succeed, Captain McNair.” A short laugh escaped the man. “We knew you and your men were out there, we were just waiting for you to strike...We’ve been expecting you.” Darion ruffled his eyebrows in confusion. Then it descended upon him that his plan was doomed. Outraged at the audacity of the man, Darion killed him with an impaling thrust to the chest. He hurried to a nearby window, as he surveyed the far countryside his jaw dropped when he spotted large calvary group approaching. Right then he realized his men would be slaughtered and all hope would be lost. He had to escape.

Suddenly he snapped back to his senses. With a heavy sigh his head dropped into his hands. The fact that he was in Arconia proves he was able to escape and somehow avoid detection as he traveled here. Bosconia was once a great country and he had fond memories of it, but they were always overshadowed by the fact that he failed to save it from the invaders that overtook it but a decade ago. All this was irrelevant of course. He needed to start a new life in Arconia and devise a way, somehow, to deliver his homeland. His name, in the ancient tongue once meant ‘peace bringer’ of all things. He had to find some way to bring peace.

He looked up and amazingly saw the woman he had spotted earlier. He couldn’t help but watch her, for some reason she fascinated him even though they had not even said a word to each other.

Unexpectedly, their eyes met for a moment. He saw her expression became one of slight curiosity, she could see the pain behind his eyes. Darion caught himself and suppressed his emotions once again. He forced a smile and nodded a hello. The beautiful woman seemed confused, not knowing what to make of him but she recognized the now piercing glare, he was the one she felt was watching her. After a moment she managed a smile and walked off but she didn’t laugh, for some reason, she didn’t want to.

[Moonitic]

Who was that? Ken-Dall wondered. Surely he could not be an Arconian fool. Something about his demeanor told her such. Oh, what fun she could have with him...

But the thought immediately lept from her brain. Replacing it, a feeling of...need? No, Ken-Dall needed no one. She did not even need that fool Tellurine, though he liked to fancy that she did. But she would turn on him in due time.

No, this young man with the powerful gaze did not cause the wheels in her head to turn, to plot. In fact, they stalled. She felt helpless.

And how she hated that feeling!

[Swordsman]

Is that you in your avatar, Moon?

If so, HOLY CRAP!!

[Moonitic]

Uh...yes. Why?