(1874-05-20) Arcadian Festival: Ship Jousting
Arcadian Festival: Ship Jousting
Summary: The final event in the festival games, Jousting ships… those crazy Arcadians!
Date: Sunday may 20th
Related: Arcadian Festival
NPCs: Reynard d'Juliano, Sailor Belagie, Tokah of Navali, Sir Kory, Sir Myke, Bodyguard Samuel.
Players:
Mercy  Hraelfmir  Ivo  Myrana  Sylvain  Jasmina  

New Kashmir Docks
Room description
Evening mai 20th

The New Kashmir Docks, once again, the place where this event will be taking place. The two ships from yesterday are cleared out, and on either side of the port are two HUGE stones held up by rocks, with rowboats ready to be placed into the water, one can tell that the rocks will be dropped into the water, and the boats will ride the waves towards each other, each rowboat has a ram on the front of it, and a rudder in back which holds a flag of the person's family crest.

Again Lord Reynard d'Juliano, 16 year old first born son of Mercy d'Juliano is in the luxury box as the master of ceremonies. Seats for the Prince and Archduchess were reserved beside him, and he wears his fightest marine uniform. Behind the three main seats are of course the rest of the nobility, d;Julianos, Vassals, al'Ramar, even a few d'Armaz come to cheer on their cousin. Below them is the seats for the citizens, since Arcadia refuses to use the word Peasent.

Standin on the dock of course are the eight contestants. Mercy being one of them, along with Sir Kory and Sir myke, representing Arcadia, a red sail, some four corners sailors, and even a Person from Navali, she is here because the merit of the idea.

"Lords, Ladies, and Citizens of Arcadia, I present the final event of the Festival games, the ship joust. This is a very dangerous event, cheer for your champions, and may the best sea wolf win!" Reynard says before he takes a seat while the first round, Ivo vs Sailor Belagie, is set up.

Given the chance of a dunking Ivo is not in the fine gear he wore to spectate the melee, but that's not to say he's making his family look scruffy. He'd've prevered not to go first, to have had a chance to watch at least once to see how the ripples of the rocks interacted, and how to counteract them, but he still looks to be enjoying the prospect of the challenge ahead. Passing his handcannon and sword to one of his crew as he steps up board his allocated boat he takes his hat off and bows deeply to the Prince, then salutes his opponant with a wave he hopes is big enough for the man to see across the harbour. Then, with the formalities done, he settles himself and readies for the splash.

Leaning forward a bit in his seat, Sylvain lets out a bit of a breath. "I must admit I have never seen a ship joust before," he comments. "I'm looking forward to see this happen."

There has been perhaps a bit of buzz as the Archduches al'Mordran deciced to attend, sitting in the stands meant for the nobles along with her maid and others of her household staff. There are also some of her guards standing off in the back, taking up space in the rear so not to block anyone's view of the joust while not so far that they can't do their job. She's looking out over the water, trying to make a bit of sense out of this event.

Myrana sits with her hands on her lap and looking very happy to have such a good vantage of the new tourney event. She's dressed in a simple kirtle of beautiful maroon linen, and her snowy hair falls loose down her back and about her face in fluffy profusion, stray waves of it catching at the delicate torc and bell pendant she wears about her neck and straying in her eyes with each gust of the sea wind.

"Looking down, she espies those contestants gathered below and grins, recognizing the top of her cousin's head as he steps onto one of the waiting boat.

"Ah, cousin," she murmurs, clearly meaning it to be to herself. "Don't pitch first."

Hraelfmir is here, dressed in his usual sort of clothes but without obvious weapons, no leather jerkin, nor his ruby ring. Today he may be swimming but not fighting. As he moves into position and listens to the rules set out and studies the situation, it may be obvious to the perceptive eye that he is still sore from yesterday's event. Some stiffness in his movements.

The Commodore's dark eyes then take in those whom he will be competing against, then look over in the direction of the Prince's box. It isn't the Prince Hraelf watches.

"Mother thought this up, like yesterday's event where she rigged two derelict ships to rattle and shake, she won of course, by dueling our commodore on the top mast… I must have gotten my father's sensible manner, because there is no way I'd do that, or this." He says as he stands once the two out in the bay are ready and hits the gong to get the match started. Taking his seat he does a side lean in it, speaking to Myrana. "Your cousin has a fair shot your grace, until he goes against my mother, she is crazy enough to surf a skiff during a hurricane." He says with a frown. "My sisters arent much more sane, I envy my brother being in hellsmouth, savages and all."

Mercy smiles as she hears the gong, standing next to her commodore. "Hows yer head feel? Did Brune make it to the ship?" She asks, small talk before she looks to the Navali sailor who will be going against Aelf. This swarthy woman with a hair full of braids looks determined to beat thease mainlanders.

Jasmina notices the Commodore and smiles, dipping her head hello to him as she does. While outwardly calm she finds herself suddenly giddy and goodness, her face. Is it warm? Fanning herself, she leans over and whispers to one of the woman who has accompanied her here, something said by her causing the other to titter in laughter. Jasmina likewise laughs.

Up in the box, the hulking blonde bodyguard behind Myrana waves with a knock-tooth grin at Hraeflmir. He looks like he'd shout encouragement, or something really embarrassing anyhow, but rightly fears his mistress' wrath when they're in polite company.

Fortunately for Samuel, Myrana can't see any of this troublemaking and instead winks cheerfully at Mercy's son, lips tugging into a smile. "I'm sure your mother values your head," she says. "The Quatanax wear skulls about their waists, and put their captives in little crates," reaching down into the little basket at her feet, half swallowed by the folds of her skirts, she fishes out a little horn cup with a waxed linen cap. "I'm quite frightened of them, myself." And she takes off the little lid and a smell of candied orange peels wafts out, bright citrus and gingery.

She politely offers them to Rey, and to the others in the box as well, smiling at Prince Sylvain. "Your Majesty, I made these if you'd like one."

Ivo can't deny that feeling the boat surge under him as the shockwave hits is somewhat exhilerating. It's not like running before in a fully rigged ship, but it's close enough. He doesn't let himself get too consumed by it though, for there's still seamanship to be displayed, and while his little ram does leave a sratch down the side of his opponant it's not enough to give him the win. Still, that just means he gets to do it again, the idea of which seems to please him as he steers the small craft alongside so the contest can be reset. Once he's in position he takes a moment to doff his hat once more and wave to the crowd, nothing quite like getting them onside.

Ivo's opponant frowns at the scratch to 'her' ship and turns the boat around, leaning back so that she could possibly hit the ship, and maybe the d'Armaz who steers it.

Ret of course takes the offored sweet and gives a nod. "I'd hate to be my uncle if anything like that happens to my brother, but she trusts him, besides, she says she has better plans for me, out of the lot of us I'm the best talker." He says and gives a nod at the pass of the ships. "Nice pass."

Mercy watches, and is happy that the setup worked. "Oh this is going to be fun!" She says as she looks to the others, her first match is against a Red Sail. "Don't chicken out!"

There is a polite nod back to the Archduchess, Jasmina. Hraelfmir otherwise does not yet take much note of Samuel. Instead he directs his attention to watching the first round of this boat jousting. Not quite ships and sailing, but should be fun! More like going after big fish in a dingy but without the spears. Halfborn observes with interest and then studies his swarthy opponent, his thumbs loosely tucked into his belt sashes. After a moment Hraelf pulls out a small silver flask, unstoppers it, and takes a drink.

Sylvain nods a little as he hears Myrana's words, offering her a polite nod. "Thank you," he replies, moving to take one of the offered sweets as well. There's also a brief grin offered to Reynard. "You are quite a skilled speaker," he offers with a smile, as he watches the happenings out there. "Interesting."

Mercy's question turns his head. Hraelfmir puts the whiskey flask away, "I be just fine, Admiral. Thank ye for ask'n." A brief pause ere he adds, "Aye, she came aboard. I retired tae me cabin early tae rest up for today so we did nae speak yet."

Rey watches with interest at the second pass. "Welp." He says as he stands up. "Captain d'Armaz is the winner of this round, The sailor from Ryalta is out of the running. Next round is Commodore Hraelfmir against Tokah of Navali!" he says before taking a seat, giving a nod of thanks to his Prince. "Highness, you do me a great honor in your words, I learned from hearing of your own diplomatic acheivements, it made our sea battles much easyer I must say." He says and snaps his fingers for a nice purpleish wine to be given to the nobility, taking a glass himself.

The Navali woman wastes no time as she moves to get ready, and of cours,e mercy smiles. "Good luck half blood." She says softly as she places hands on hips to watch.

Myrana tenses up in her seat so obviously that she seems to temporarily gain about an inch, vertically speaking, only to sink back down a little again as Ivo makes it through the first pass. "God-in-heaven but what's to stop you from being struck with the ram yourself?" She gasps, standing up finally to lean against the edge of the box railing and look out over the water. But Ivo is through, and has won the first round, and she grins hugely, suffused with filial pride. "Ah! Well done, cousin. Oh hey, Sir Hraeflmir!" She doesn't wave, but she does go up onto her toes as she's looking out, all but radiating good spirits now. Myra loves tournaments.

Having had one pass to get an initial idea on how the wave is going to hit Ivo is more prepared this time, although he still has to be careful to factor in the differing reflections, and current direction now he's going the other way. It's not his finest sailing ever, but he reads the ripples correctly and scores another hit along his opponant's flank. There's a faitn grimace as the vessels come together, the jot not being tender to his ribs, but he recovers quickly, tips his hat to his oppoannt as they pass, then steers alongside intime to hear the judgment. Relinquishing his boat he limps a couple of paces across the dockside to a place he can sit, and one of his crew appears at his elbow with a goblet of win. Just what he needed. He's about to settle in to see if Aelf is going swimming when he spots his cousin up in the stands (well, he spots Sameul and works it out), and raises his goblet in silent greeting. No pressure then.

Myrana waves with a huge grin to Ivo. "GOOD JOB, CUZ!" she shouts, which is not… precisely appropriate for her rank. But she married an Arrani. Ramius is probably having a disastrous influence on the young D'Armaz.

Hraelfmir gives his Admiral a half smile and nods, "Aye, nae a nad thing tae have good luck, thanks." The Privateer goes to board the boat and make teady at the rudder for the rush. Hraelf's dark eyes are bright, eager to see what happens. Man's probably a little addicted to excitement - he's certainly not nervous and grins ferally as he looks across at dark Tokah.

"Where's the excitment if there is no fear of pain." Rey says in the best impression of his mother. He stands and is about to hit the gong, but seeing Myrana's excistment, he offers her the mallet. "Your Grace, if you would like to have the pleasure?" He says with a slight bow.

Did someone just yell /Sir/ Hraelfmir??

"I'm glad to hear I have done something to help," Sylvain replies to Raynard, offering a smile. He takes some of the offered wine, taking a sip of it as he watches the happenings, although Myrana makes him pause. "I never knew you could shout that loudly," he offers to her.

Myrana realizes what camme out her mouth a few seconds AFTER she remembers that Hraeflmir is not, in fact, a knight.

"Oh well, crap," she mutters, embarrassed. Then looking at the mallet, she laughs, shaking her head. "Thank you, but its definitely yours," she says, politely refusing. "I have avoided that sort of thing so far."

Rey nods and gives a smile. "As you wish your Grace." He says and flips the Mallet in his hand and bangs the gong, sending the rocks back into the water to the cheers of the people.

Mercy smiles as the gong going off, and watches. "C'MON AELF! SHOW THEM HOW WE DO IN ARCADIA!"

The maid with Jasmina whispers again, causing Jasmina to gasp. "That is positively horrible of you to ask," she chides. "Anyhow, I do not know." Myrana and the Prince are given waves to and she smiles to them before settling in to watch as the Comodore starts his turn.

Myrana waves to Jasmina, cheeks still a little flushed still with embarrassment at her blunder but cheerful all the same.

Ivo gives Myrana a big grin in return for her call, although since she seems to be engaged in conversation with Rey and the prince he turns abck to watch Hraelfmir settle into his craft. Turning to Mercy he counts the pairings left and asks conversationally, "are you pared with Sir Myke again? He earnt me several crowns yesterday, any other draw and I might have entured another wager on him. With the bell and the falling rocks he focuses on the commadore again, expecting him to get the better of the duel, but you never can tell with this sort of thing."

When the gong sounds and the great stones drop, Hraelfmir is ready at the boat's rudder. Now we will see who has stones! The water gushes and forms a swell that lifts and propells the water craft.

Hraelfmir steers for Tokah's boat and the muscles of his arms and thighs strain to brace the rudder against his body as they are about to ram one another! The jarring shock as his ram strikes wood is a glancing blow that slews his bow off to the side. Hraelfmir scowls and glances back to see what famage he rendered to her craft ere his is turned about to make ready to go again. And to see how much damage his boat suffered.

"Actually Bruv, me and Myke will be going against each other." The tall Arcadian knight says, as he pats his smaller counterpart on the shoulder. "Should be a good turn."

Mercy watches as Aelf manages to score a hit and smiles. "If her boat turned anymore, he could have bust it in half." She says with a smile.

Rey blinks as Aelf scores a hit and raises a hand to indicate such. "Second turn!" He shouts as he hits the gong. "I predict My mother and the commodore in the finals."

Sylvain offers a smile and a nod to Jasmina, watching her for a few seconds before he looks back to the boats out there, watching them a bit quietly.

Myrana winces with every hard hit down in the water, reacting to the sound of splintering boards in what's mostly an unconscious level; her back tenses up under the linen of her kirtle and she reaches up to brush the bangs from her face with an absent gesture. But there's no especial danger to the participants, unless one of them were so slow on their feet or foolish enough to get in the way of the rams while attempting to line up the pass. Or at least, that's what she's clearly reminding herself.

But as Hraelfmir and Tokah turn around to line up their second pass, she leans forward so Ivo can hear her from the box, and her white braid falls from where it was hanging down her back in one thick plait to fall over her shoulder and against the railing. "Hey! How are you feeling after that?" She means to pitch it for him, but of course there's no real privacy on Tourney grounds. "The impact must be tremendous."

Once more the gong sounds, the great stones dripping wet are dropped into the sea with thunderous result! This time Hraelfmir gets a very slightly different angle from the start that looks like he might miss entitely!

Suddenly crouching at the rudder, he knifes his craft at the last instant to port to strike the starboard side of Tokah's craft! It is a gamble that he might loose force and speed at the last instant, yet his ram hits almost the same spot he had managed to weaken in hus first strike!

The Navali's craft splinters on impact and twists in the water, capsizing! Hraelf's slightly heavier mass and lowered center of gravity manages to keep him from being flung out on impact. The Commodore stands and raises a fist to the crowd, "Yes!"

"Oh. Well then," Ivo replies with a warm and cheerful smile, "five crowns on the little guy." Most of the d'Armaz's attention is on the scene unfolding on the water though, as he watches Hraelfmir's tactics to see if he can gain an advantge in the next round. As the two vessels come together he cracks another grin for the clean win, and offers applause for the commadore. "A fine piece of seamanship," he calls, "well done."

Jasmina smiles, proud of the showing everyone's put on so far. Hraelfmir's victory is met with applause and then she turns, looking at where her guards are for some reason.

Quickly Hraelf looks to see if the Archduchess was watching, and Mercy too!

The sound of the ship being destroy get's a half gasp, half cheer from the people in the crowd. Rey does flinch just abit. "My father in heaven…" he says as he leans over the railing. "Winner by obvious result is Commodore halfblood! Send aid to our Navali sailor." he says before watching as the two Arcadian knights get their setup ready. "I'm going to be 16 with gray hair by the end of this, I swear to all that's holy." he says with a frown, his pure black hair might make him look dashing with abit of silver, though, only 16? you;d swear the d'Juliano lord was older.

Myrana laughs. "Good job, Master Hraelfmir!" She greets him as he regains solid ground, and in one piece. Hopefully he did not hear her earlier blunder; she's definitely pretending it never happened. Who's good at being unfortunately very high on the fuedal ladder without having planned for it emotionally ahead of time? This giirrrrl.

The next round sees Sir Myke and Sir Kory having their go, when the gong sounds, both knights ride their ships towards each other, though, for as soft spoken and brutish as Kory is, he pulls the same stunt that the commodore pulled and completely spinters Myke's ship in a display of sailing prowess. With a raised hand to the crowd as Myke swims to the docks and rolls over. Not amused at his friends little trick.

Rey smiles and raises his hand in favour of Kory. "Next round is Countess Mercedes d'Juliano vs Relina Gavin of the Red Sails!" He shouts, this have everyone;s attention as he sits down and watches.

Mercy smiles and walks to her boat, jumping in and taking hold of the rudder as she looks across at the red sail sailor. "Come get every peice!" She says with a smile as she waits for the gong.

Ivo catches his cousin's call and turns back to regard the stands while the next bout is arranged. "I imagine it was," he answers, tone still remakrably cheerful, "one of my attempts was probably more than my sawbones would approve of, but where's the fun in playing it safe. "It should be an interesting next round. I hope you've brought enough wine to last. I fear I may be thirsty once it's done."

Sea gulls wheel and shriek over head, bright banners snapping in the wind. Cheers or shouts and waves roll against the shore as the heavy chains slowly crank the massive stones back up out of the water. Sea weed clings as water sheets iff of the behemoths.

Aye, did his Admiral see that? Did the Archduchess? Hraelfmir is pleased as he brings his boat in, but he does look back to see if they are getting Tokah out and if she is all right. Plenty of water droplets dampen his clothes as he debarks and resumes watching from the docks.

Myrana gains a smile from Hraelf and a respectful nod. "Thank ye. Luck was wit' me but I can nae count on it for later rounds. I can only hope for it." You can bet he'll be watching Mercy's rounds carefully. But first a drink from his flask.

Betting keeps coins changing hands with every victory and defeat!

Rey sounds the gong, though those sitting near him can see the hesitation in his movements, and he holds his breath as the stones are dropped, even grabbing a random noble's hand in anticipation as his mothers goes sailing twoards one of their southern rivals…

Mercy slams her boat into the red sails, though she doesnt break it, said red sail abit more skilled than she though, but still a solid hit for the admiral as she turns her boat around with a very cat like smile. "Another one of those would be nice." She says as she looks to the crowd.

Rey let's out an exhale as he sees his mother survive the pass. And gives her the point for the pass.

Jasmina did see it and is giving Hraelfmir a smile and a nod of approval, more than emphatically so for him to notice. The guard she was speaking to earlier is gone, going to get her something from one of the food stalls.

Hraelfmir watches Mercy's first pass with anticipation. He is not disappointed in the fierceness of the two boats clashing. The halfblooded Commodore catches Jasmina's approval and grins.

Myrana's blue eyes warm up and laugh. "I'm prepared," she tells Ivo with a grin. "I'm just worried that Ramius is burning something down, and the barrel we brought with us will go up and make everything worse. He's made friends with the Inn's smithy." By this she must mean that her husband brought some liqour from Gendiel, and she's going to have to go back to a huge, boisterous Arrani ruckus. This is really only dangerous to Myrana because she is easily picked up and moved about for amusement purposes, however she might feel about it at the time.

She of course cheers for Mercy as their host, of course, scores a solid point.

Another gong hit and another pass as Mercy slams her ship into the Red sails boat, capsizing it and standing with her arms raised in triumph. The crowd cheers and Reynard can finaly breathe… for now.

"Next round is a semi-final round, Captain Ivo d'Armaz against Commodore Hraelfmir Halfborn! Take your places!" Rey says as he sits back down as everything is set up once more, drainning his glass of wine and getting it filled once more.

Ivo gives an impressed round of applause as Mercy swifty finishes off her opponant, then downs the remained of his goblet and pushes himself ot his feet. "I don't suppose that your preparedness includes a dry shirt should this end poorly?" he calls to his cousin, with a broad grin, clearly relishing the challenge to come. Aelf gets a tip of his hat in salute and then he's hauling himself over the gunwales of his assigned boat and settling himself at the tiller.

Myrana returns to her seat as Hraelfmir and her cousin Ivo are slated to line up. This should be a great match! She plops into her seat with a FLUMPH of skirts and pops some candied peels into her mouth, hmming to herself in good cheer. Surely nothing TERRIBLE AND EXPENSIVE will happen!

A cheer for Mercy's skill from the Typhoon's Captain. Hraelf shouts, "Good show, Admiral!"

Hraelfmir then reaches over and lightly bumps Ivo in the upper arm, "Let us see which o' us has more fun! Win or loose, I?ll stand ye drinks later, just for ye competing wit' ye leg nae yet fully healed."

With that said, Hraelf goes to get into the next boat prepared for him. He checks it over to make certsin it seems sound, then gets ready at the stern for the first pass.

"Only if you agree that I will stand your's," Ivo replies warmly, although there's a definite edge of resolve to it too for some reason. With two boats already destroyed by the Commodore's initial tactic the d'Armaz has found himself a counter. Or so he hopes. Once those rocks drop and the surge propels him forward he aims his bow dead at the other man's. If Hraelfmir turns to go wide, he turns into him to keep that same collision vector, if hse doesn't? Well, it's simpler that way at least. He's bracing himself with his good leg, which should cousion the blow somewhat, and trying ot keep tiller movements to a minimum to keep up momentum as the two vessels converge.

Hete we go! Down thunder the stones to send forth the sea foam rolling once more. The shore is taking a pounding as if there were a storm coming in but no damage. The two boats rush forth with Hraelfmir's gaze intent upon the d'Armaz Captain. As before he is crouched low, his bruises for the moment forgotten in his concentration!

No turning this time but dead up the center! Will either vere off at the last? No! The two crash bows, rams like great mountain sheep to come together to knock heads!

Hraelfmir is jolted but bares his teeth in another brief feral grin at seeing Ivo's boat damaged. "Another round! This be more fun than throwing knives!" One might think the Commodore was enjoying himself.

Rey watches and smiles. "Pass is awarded to the Commmodore, reset and get ready!" He says with a smile as he looks to the nobles in attendance. "I still stand by my earlyer prediction. As for who will win, that will be a guess I don;t want to make." He says as he leans forward and hits the gong once more.

Myrana's heart is in her throat as the boats close in on one another and right before impact she jerks her chin very slightly, unable to watch the literal collision. Perhaps she's been in a shipwreck herself, or maybe she doesn't quite want to see either hit with a ram, and her very willful suspension of the danger in this new event isn't as strong as she'd like to pretend. "Ah! God." But she applauds all the same, just sitting much less easily in her seat now. "Ahaha- Ah, I love to see the jousts, too, but… I'm glad, honestly, that Ramius doesn't participate in the tourneys very often."

The head-on impact is jarring, and Hraelfmir will likely see it in Ivo's face as they pass to make their way to their reset points. The grimace is gone by the time he reaches the shore again though, and he offers the crowd on that side of the docks an elaborate bow, which seems to have some of them amused at least. Once they're reset he braces himself again and waits, eyes on the commodore rather than the distress of his cousin. This could well be the decide the match and he knows it, so once the stones drop and he's riding the wake forward again he aims slightly to port, in the hope that turning contrary to the standard practice of ships he might throw the commodore off.

Hraelfmir gets his craft turned about and men with hooks help get his boat pulled back into position for another go at Ivo's craft. Hraelf rubs his aching chest but doesn't drink any more from his flask. As soon as the gong sounds the boats go at it again!

This time Ivo's ram catches Hraelfmir's bow slightly off center and cracks the wood! The Commodore is soundly jostled, "Good one, Captain."

Then it is time for one more pass. Which of them will win the round to try against the Admiral?

Reynard gives the point to Ivo this round. "Final pass!" he shouts as he looks to Myrana. "I felt the same when my mother has her run… it doesnt get better trust me." He says as he sits back after the gong rings.

Content with scoring a good hit against Hraelfmir, Ivo takes a moemnt to relax as the stones are rest, and loosens his back muscles but rolling his shoulders a little. There's no wave for the crowd at this end, the next pass is too important to lose focus. Considering his options for steering he makes the decision to once more aim straight for the other boat's bows, losing as little speed through tiller action as possible. Which might have worked fine if he'd been able to hold her steady on impact, but the shock is too jarring, and the flash of pain evident for those watching closely enough. He's till dry though, and takes that as a blessing as he tips his hat to his opponant. "Well sailed. Now, which tavern will I find you in later for those drinks?"

By this time Hraelfmir is getting pretty sore and tired. No doubt Ivo is as well, for they both have suffered injuries of one kind or another recently. The ship jousting is starting to take it's toll.

Once more the massive stones crash into the sea and heave the smaller craft at one another as if flung from unseen gods if the waters! Hraelfmir has some trouble keeping the tiller from ripping out of his grasp even with his entite body to direct it. The impact bruises his ribs yet again yet he manages to strike a blow to the side of Ivo's bow again! Not great damage but a board cracks!

A nod of respect for the d'Armaz lord, "Your choice, Captain. When next we meet."

A runner comes up to whisper into Reynard's ear, he frowns and says "Chivlary… " Reynard stands up and gives a clap. "Due to the nature of his opponant, Sir Kory has elected to drop out of the contest. Moving Countess d'Juliano to the finals, Will the Commorodre and Her excellency please take your boats." he says as he hefts his mallet.

Mercy isnt to happy about her own knight dropping out, deference or not. But that does give her a second chance to beat Aelf, somthing she has found she quite likes to do as she moves over to the boat. She says nothing as she poises herself for the initial rush.

It's with evident relief (and a look of sympathy to Mercy's son) that Myrana gets up to greet her cousin on his return to solid ground with a cup of wine and congratulations. Soon enough though she returns to the box to watch the final match.

The final contestants take their places. Hraelf dares to finish off his flask after boarding a fresh, undamaged boat. It is entirely possible that he will end this event not entirely sober!

When all is made ready a hush falls over the crowd into which the gong sounds like the peeling of the first bell in warning before the storm.

The sea heaves and the boats clash! Hraelfmir has a grimmer look upon his face this round, concentrating hard! Both craft hit with unbelievable force that nearly throws Hraelfmir into the drink, but somehow he stays on board! A cracked board on his port side indicates the admiral?s victory but it was a very close call for them both!

Mercy crashes into Aelf and even gives him a sly wink as they pass, though she rights her boat and get's ready for the second pass, it was close, and she knows a lesser sailor against either of them would be in the water. But she's the bloody admiral, and she can;t lose to some four corners rogue, no mater how many times she promotes him.

Rey watches in astonishment and looks to Myrana. "It's almost like the time d'Rana and that southern heathen fought in hellsmouth…" he says as he raises a hand, giving the pass to Mercy. "Next round!" He shouts as he hit's the gong. Almost over, then he can go back to the palace and flirt with afew ladies his age and get ready for the ball tomorrow, speaking of which. "Duchess, since I havent seen the duke with you, should you need an escort to the seaside ball tomorrow… I would be more than happy to accopmany you?" he asks, she is the first woman he had asked, so there is that. Mercy might not like it, but then again, she is giving him a heart attack, might as well return the favour.

The gong sounds, the stone drops and Mercy leans forward as she holds the rudder with an iron grip, as she comes within inches of her comodore's boat, she leans back with all her weight and sends her ram up into Aelf's ship, splintering it in half and sending the Halfblood commodore right… into her lap.

Mercy blinks as the boat coasts towards the dock. "Look if you want a consort contract, just ask me commodore." She says with a smirk, not that she would, but still, if he asks she would rpbably at least consider it… for a moment.

Tired and sore as he is, Hraelfmir is determined to carry through and try his damnest for a victory against the Admiral! Maybe /this/ time, by the One!

But it is not meant to be! The next thing he knows Hraelf has been thrown from his boat but not into the cold, wet embrace of the sea! He finds himself face first in Mercy's lap! His wits addled fir a secoud, Halfborn looks up at her and blinks, then drags himself back to sit on his arse in the bottom of her boat.

"I be think'n ye won this round, Admiral." Hraelf scrapes a hans through his wind tossled hair to clear it from his eyes, "Me thinks such a contract might be dangerous for me health." He gives her a wink and asks, "May I have a ride tae th' docks? I'd rather not swim today."

Myrana's expression temporarily blanks as she tries to remember exactly what Galenthian Zayne D'Rana fought in a Hellsmouth tourney. The filing system turns on itself with a flicker of her blue eyes; was it Reine? "Well he is a southerner," she murmurs to herself thoughtfully. "But not so unrefined as H-Oh? Well that's very gracious of you," she says, taking a sip of her wine. "But on the chance that Ramius hasn't burned down the Inn we are staying in just a little ways yonder in a spur of the moment… project in their blacksmith's forge, I plan to make him do all of the talking there for me."

"Oop," Myrana watches Hraelf go into the drink, having thankfully missed the moment of impact. The sound of it snapped her gaze there, however, and she leans forward to peer intently, making sure he isn't drowned. But no, he's not dead. Well everything's going fine, then! She takes another sip of her wine and silently thanks the One that Ramius is more scared of boats than he is of horses.

As Mercy and Aelf disembark, Rey stands up to clap for his mother. 'Well done, abit over the top, but well done!" He says as he gives a bow. Mercy smiles and removes her hat in a sweeping stage bow to those watching. "Again, the prize money will go to another orphanage within the city, I thank you all for you attendance, tomorrow will be the runner's parade, and for you nobles and knights and other people of higher status, d'Juliano palace will hold the seaside ball, a masqued ball, so come and be happy." She says before exiting to get out of damp clothes.

Rey turns and gives a bow. "Well Milady, the offer still stands if he can't be pulled from his forge, I of course am willing to do the talking for you as well." He says as he looks as Aelf lands in his mother's lap, and he gives a laugh and yells. "THAT'S HOW THAT FEELS!" He says before clearing his throat. "I just.. enjoyed the event, but my lords, ladies, please enjoy the evening and the rest of what our port city has to offer, I myself am going to find a pub." He might be young, but no one would tell the countess' son no, not here anyway.

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