| Tournament Conversations |
| Summary: | Einar, Saethwyr and Tiaryn discuss the Mallister tournament. And lunch. |
| Date: | 22/June/2012 |
| Related Logs: | None specifically |
| Players: |
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| Tournament Campsite |
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| Tents! |
| Fri June 22, 289 |
With the tournament still in full swing he various camps are abuzz with laughter, music, conversation and such like. Riverlanders, Men of the Reach and even the occasional Northman meet, mingle and share stories over an ale or several. A far cry from the last time this many people were camped at Seagard that’s for sure.
With the sun high in the sky, but not yet at it’s daily zenith, one said Northman is making his way from the Flint camp to the tournament grounds to see what the new day holds. Spirits are high and still having not yet spent all the coin he won from a Reach squire on the outcome of the archery contest, Einar is considering is options for lunch. Maybe one of the taverns in town.
Tia has been out for hours, already today. She’s been to the docks to check out how Seagard looks now that it has been fairly repaired. A very different place indeed than the last time she was here. And now she’s heading back to the Flint camp, to check in for lunch and find out what her goodbrother is up to. As she walks, with Jacob and Bethy, she catches sight of Einar heading towards the tourney field, and alters her direction to meet up with him. “Einar,” she calls out, just to make sure he doesn’t take off and vanish. “Good day to you, my good-brother. Are you looking to find lunch?”
With bound ribs still painful and in the process of healing, the Charlton Knight is out and about himself as well. He’s been wandering in bits and spurts, visiting with a few folks along the way. But now? Well, now seems a good time for food to be sought out, and so Saethwyr is wandering with that in mind. Not wanting to return to the sparse tent which is his own, perhaps having seen enough of the interior of it for the time being, he’s instead likely seeming to be a bit aimless. But he does spy Lady Tiaryn, his dark gaze following her, and the sight of her enough to draw a smile to his features. But then he also takes note of Einar, whom she’s headed towards, and he carefully schools his features and mindfully doesn’t stare at Tiaryn. His feet, however, seem to have determined a course, and so it’s towards the Flint pair that he makes his way.
Einar seems to have utterly failed to spot his good-sister, or her attendants, but the calls does the job required of it and he turns back, taking a few paces towards them to close the distance. Smiling in greeting he gives both Bethy and Jacob a brief nod before turning his attention to Tia. "Good morning," he starts cheerfully. "I was just going to check the schedule for the day but yes, after that I was considering some food. I was out of camp at breakfast so haven't actually eaten since last night. Would you care to join me? I'm still living off Master Vis' skills and have had a couple of places recommended to me." Once again though it seems that his ears are working far better than his eyes and it's Saethwyr's footfall that attracts his attention. Turning his head slightly he offer a simple nod in greeting to the man as he draws near, "Ser."
Tia chuckles softly at Einar's greeting, her expression content, at least. "I think that Master Vis did very well for you then, Einar. Very well indeed. Have you enough to feed us both lunch on your winnings?" she asks, half teasing. "If so, I'd very much be happy to come along with you. I should like to see more of Seagard now that it is a city again." She seems about to say something more, but Einar's attention turning to the arriving knight catches her attention and she turns to offer a polite curtsey to Saethwyr. "Good day, Lord Saethwyr," she says softly. "How are you feeling today. Einar, Lord Saethwyr finished fifth in the melee - did you hear?"
Once he draws near, Saethwyr offers a careful bow, attempting to make it look smooth even with the binding about his ribs. “Good morning, Lord Einar, Lady Tiaryn,” he offers respectfully, a smile touching at the corners of his lips. His dark gaze turns to Tiaryn, and he inclines his head to her, his smile lingering. “I am feeling better, my Lady, thank you. And for yourself?” he asks, a gentle curiosity coming to his voice. At her mention of how he finished, a bit of colour creeps to his cheeks, his attention turning to Einar. He had been hoping to do better, alas, but Tiaryn has been working on convincing him that fifth is good as well, especially since it was better than his last melee.
Einar can probably stretch to Jacob and Bethy too infact, but he simply nods in answer to the question. Surely it's a brother's prerogative to spoil their sister every now and again. Or something like that anyway. The cautious bow is noted and Tia's second question explains it away easily enough. "I did not I must admit," he replies to both, "but I was attending to other matters at the time so didn't get a chance to watch. " Not that he's actually watched any of the melee, nor does he intend to watch any further bouts, it's not really his contest. "Congratulations though Ser, and I hope the bruises don't pain you too long."
Now come on, what’s wrong with fifth? it’s a few less bruises than first through fourth after all. Tia smiles at Einar’s answer, perfectly willing to let him spoil her, as he wishes. It is after all her job to be spoiled, right? I’m sure that’s her role in life. She grins at Saethwyr, amused to see him blushing slightly. “I am doing well, thank you. And looking forward to seeing what the day brings, especially since the weather is cooperating so well. It’s like this tournament it wants things to be spotless, compared to the Frey tournament.” A slightly apologetic look to Saethwyr, whose family owes allegiance to those Freys, but still - it’s not their fault the weather didn’t cooperate.
Fifth is still five places from first, not that Saethwyr thought he would come out on top of the melee. But he did have a period of time that he was doing particularly well at not being hit. Alas, no one’s luck lasts forever, especially with two and sometimes three attackers to defend against. He half bows to Einar, a smile touching the corners of his lips. “Thank you, my Lord. They are on their way to healing, so I would hope ‘twill not be too long before they have faded,” the Charlton Knight comments, his tone thoughtful in nature. Then his attention shifts to Tiaryn, watching her as she speaks, and he keeps his hands to himself, a proper gentleman. Anything less would hurt in more ways than one. “Aye, the weather has been holding well, thus far. Hopefully it will remain so, for the remaining events. It can be a fickle thing, sometimes,” he muses, a smile returning to his features, inclining his head slightly to her.
Having been in the North during the Frey tournament, Einar had only heard the stories of the rain second hand, it's enough to make him not in agreement to Tia's summary though. "Pray let us hope that it holds for the rest of the week," he offers casually, then adds with a faint smile, "I'd hoped to not to be under canvas again for a long while yet, but so long as it stays dry I am sure we'll all manage through." Tents, damp mists and fish, that's the combination to avoid. "Do you intend to enter any further events?" he asks Saethwyr conversationally, "I heard talk of more melees but I'm not sure if there are any more rounds of jousting planned." One reason he's out and about is to find out after all. He leaves off talk of lunch though for now, until he's got an idea of Saethwyr's plans.
“I’d heard there’s a squire’s melee and perhaps more knightly melee, but I think the jousting and archery are finished,” Tia says. “And there’s a dance at the end.” Which means she’s not leaving before the last day, nope. But she will definitely enjoy the dance, so it’s a good thing. She looks over at Saethwyr and the idea of him competing in something else this tourney brings a slight frown to her face. “I think that one melee per tourney is enough for any man. It’s rather a brutal sport.”
“Indeed, hopefully it will hold for the rest of the week,” Saethwyr comments, in regards to the weather, giving a nod to Einar. He tilts his head a little to one side at the question, then glances to Tiaryn at her frown before he softly shakes his head, his hair whispering across his shoulders. “Alas, nay. I had heard of other melees as well, but the one has served to be enough for myself,” he comments. Considering he came out of it with a few cracked ribs, it’s perhaps not surprising he feels that way. “Perhaps in the next tourney I will compete in other events, but I tend to toss my luck into the melee and see where it all settles out,” he muses, a smile quirking at the corners of his lips. “I’ve not heard of there being more jousting, but it is possible that there could yet be some. I plan to attend the dance at the end, but other than that, I believe it better if I remain an observer,” he adds, inclining his head slightly.
Einar would have to admit that he hadn't heard about the squire's melee, but since he hasn't been paying much attention to the melees in general then he's not overly surprised. If the squires he knows hadn't all just gone and got themselves knighted he might have watched to lend support and maybe place a bet or two, but with no such compulsion remaining he just nods at the news. "A shame there is no more archery," he offers with a faint smile, "I could bet my previous wining son Master Vis again. I will admit that I had been considering entering that, but I'm not ashamed to admit that I know when I'm beaten." At the mention of the dance though he does glance once between the pair of them.
Tia dances with whoever will dance with her, totally properly. So no need for such glances. She smiles at Saethwyr though, as his own words agree with her take on things. “The joust is far easier to follow, and it seems less painful. And yet there is no shortage of knights for the melee. I cannot say I understand it really.” Then back to Einar, she says, “I’m sure you will have other opportunities, though by now many will know that Pariston is very good at archery,” she teases. “Your secret is out.”
“Indeed, ‘tis a shame, that. I had rather been hoping to cast my lot in with the archery, but it seems ‘twas not to be. Perhaps next time, though,” Saethwyr muses, a thoughtful cast to his voice. Archery is something he enjoys to do, and so it seems a natural thing to compete at least a little. Though he notices the glance from Einar, he doesn’t comment to it. He doesn’t dance very much, and with cracked ribs, there’s little harm he could cause on the dance floor. “Aye, my Lady, I would have to agree, ‘tis easier to follow. Though the joust seems to cause it’s fair share of bruises as well,” he muses, a thoughtful cast to his voice. He chuckles, just a wee bit, since more than that would hurt his ribs, his dark eyes reflecting amusement. “Many will likely bet their coin on Master Vis, I expect,” he muses. A page from his family’s camp approaches the group with a small bit of wariness, then steps forward to lightly tap Saethwyr’s arm and gain his attention. The Knight looks to the lad, then bows carefully to the Flint pair. “Excuse me, my Lord, my Lady,” he says softly. He steps aside then, to be able to speak with the page a bit more privately.
Smiling back to Tia, Einar has to admit that she's right there. "I guess I'll just have to find some other means of acquiring coin then. I hear there's money to be made in the jousts. If you're any good." He's jesting though given that he's a knight yet of course, nor does he have the appropriate armour as one thing is for certain, he standard leather jerkin is definitely not up to the task. "Or maybe he could compete anonymously, like some of the knights do? I'm sure no one would notice." Harder to do in an unarmoured contest, but valid enough for light conversation. As the page approaches he quietens so Saethwyr only has one person talking at him, and then nods to the man as he steps aside. Returning his attention to Tia he asks, "Do you have a preference on lunch?"
