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/ [ORP] Joust near Canterbury, England.

Faheud


As he stood at the list-table to speak to Lord Plotnik, the King nodded to Princess Ghostwriter.

"Aye, Highness, I would be most pleased for Sir Seamus' assistance. Please tell him I am intending to do only a single ceremonial joust to show the support of the Throne for the noble sport. I would not wish to incur the risks that many are certainly worried about and with good cause."

The King smiled at Inspector MacKenzie, noting how her eyes kept moving around the crowd, never stopping their endless search for anything out of place. He turned to the good Earl hosting the tournament.

"Good Earl Plotnik, I, Faheud, King of England, present myself to this list for a ceremonial joust against a random opponent to show the Crown support for your noble endeavor."

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Faheud, King of England



Thanks to Destini MacKenzie for the new banner!
--Obidiah
A jet black Friesian trotted to the entrance, bearing upon its back a mountain of a man wrapped in steel and bearing a green and white striped lance. On either side rode his companions, also knights, each bearing banners depicting the heraldry of the man mountain. Depicted upon its damp cloth was a chevron of silver upon a green field. To the left and right of the chevron a red boar snarled, as if ready to charge and below chevron and boars both was planted a red trefoil. The trio reigned in before the clerk who had just finished registering a nother set of lords and ladies who sought to try their skill in the lists. Urging his mount forward the middle knight towered over the diminutive man who now gazed up in slight wonder, and perhaps a hint of fear.

"Yes?" He inquired boldly, "Would you like to throw your lot in with the rest?"

The knight tilted up his visor so that a scarred and ugly face could be revealed, what passed for lips moved slightly allowing a coarse voice to emerge, "Ser Obidiah Eaves." The mountain rasped, cold blue eyes boring into the browns of the clerk's. "You see mine sigil." The clerk glanced down and scribbled furiously, "And who would you ride for, Ser?" he asked, able to keep a tremor out of his voice, certainly something to be admired. "Pain." Replied the Hedge Knight shortly, "Pain and gold." He added, growling.
"That will be all?" Continued the clerk, clearly hoping to be rid of this man soon. "These shall accompany me." Obidiah rasped, gesturing towards his companions. "Will they be riding?" Asked the clerk mistakingly to which Obidiah answered curtly, "No. That will be all, little man." Kicking his heels into the flanks of his horse, he spurred it forward riding deeper into the tourney grounds, the knights behind him following, the banners snapping out in the sudden speed. They pulled into an open lot and dismounted, the other two knights flipping up their own visors as they planted the banners deep into the ground. In yet another moment, without a word exchanged between them, a tent was prepared and rising, faster than most teams of retainers could manage. The speed at which it was done gave hint that these men had possibly known the toils of war, which included marching and setting as well as the widely known celebrated charging and fighting. Perhaps children would not have as much fun with their wooden swords were they to include that aspect. The other two knights removed their helms when they had finished, revealing the dashing face and golden curls of Ser Theoden Whitemace and the solemn visage of Ser Leris Blackoak, fringed by long black hair which fell about his shoulders. Obidiah Eaves disinclined to join them, leaving his own helmet on, rasping, he ordered, "Find me our host, I would like a word." To which both knights inclined their heads and departed, leaving the Hedge Knight to hitch their horses and disappear inside his tent.

His banners flapped weakly in the cold wind, the boars leaping and dancing as if standing impatient guard whilst the trefoil wilted beneath them.
Kenrich
Ken nodded to Thomas as he wished him luck.

"Good luck as well, my friend" he said as he saw him walk away, ken went back to checking his armor. He would walk over to the kings tent once he was done, to say hello.
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Lord High Constable, Royal Guard, Knights of the Realm, CoH Herald
Plotnik
Hamish wrote:
As my friend and mount, drawers near to the arena I whisper to the Lady Penelope-Rose who is sat in front of me, I have one arm around her to steady her on the horse. I could say that I know that she is relatively new to horse-riding and so needs my arm to steady her, there is another more visceral reason to have my arm around her, I want to touch her and be in contact. I feel almost as though to let her go would be to allow her to disappear in a puff of golden powder.

I whisper to her " who is Sir Plotnik?" When she has pointed out the man I use my knees to nudge Aristotle over to the man. When the horse comes before the man the beast lowers it's head and drops it's right leg in what is a pretty good approximation of a bow. Years of training and allowing Aristotle to have his head have paid off.

I speak to Lord Plotnik " Hamish O'Ranald, Squire to Knight Castellan of the Knights Of The Realm, Dame Ghostwriter Rood. I wish to register my entry into the tournament and dedicate my service here to the star of the Heavens, Lady Penelope_Rose!"

I wait for Sir Plotnik's acknowlwedgement.

...
Plotnik watches the horse prances smartly to a crisp stop, with the rider apparently looking in his direction. When the horse "bows", he laughs with appreciation. Bowing jovially to the horse, he manages to tell him, "At your service" before the rider speaks.

Listening to the stranger speak, he bursts out laughing at the mention of Penelope. "The Little Angel has flown home? Ha! Well met, Sir Squire! The registration tent is there by the Great Door to The Castle. We'll be happy to have you riding, even if you've found yourself a lost cause. Ha! Why, I haven't seen her since... I'll have to think when it was. 'S'been too long. Too long. I was thinking of her momma just the other day, too.

"I charge you with ensuring that the lady sees Anyamariee and me before she departs, or unpleasant things will befall.
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Ãðàô ×èëõýì Ìàëëåò Äóâðà, êàíöëåð ïôàëüöãðàôñòâî Ñàññåêñà
Destini
Destini nodded as King Faheud spoke His intention to enter the tournament, expecting -- and respecting -- His wish. Her eyes moved about the space, looking for threats and spying many people she recognized amongst the many of those she did not.

As another lad stepped foreward to announce his candidacy to the tournament to Lord Plotnik, Destini's eyes stopped moving for once. She focused in on him and wondered that she had not seen him earlier. "Hamish?" she said so quietly that she doubted that anyone could possibly hear her. "Hamish O'Ranald?" she asked louder. He might have heard her, but then the talk and the cheering were loud enough that he might not have. Could Jah's world really be so small?

No, it couldn't be her friend from her hometown. Could it? In the din, Destini wasn't certain she had heard him correctly.
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Caitilin
The Countess of Wigton, Judge of the Tournament, gathered the names from the registration tent and hurried over to Lord Plotnik with the parchment.

My Lord, here is the list of those who have registered so far. Cait handed him the list.



Lady Jennet, Princess of England
Lord Barnaby Braeden de Holland, Earl of Pembroke, Lord Warden of Sherwood Forest
Lord Kenrich Stewart Tudor, Earl of Nottingham
Lord H.Bear, Baron of Bickleigh
The Honourable Thomas_Church, Councilor of Sussex
Sir Obidiah Eaves, Hedge Knight
Sir Blades
Lord Plotnik von Liechenstein, Earl of Chilham, the Mallet of Dover
Sir Baldar de Lusignon, Baron of St Ives, Grand Marshall of the Knights of England, King's Champion
Lord Darkogreer de Stryke, Baron of Tavistock
Hamish O'Ranald, Squire of the Knights of the Realms

A demonstration match of one tilt to be presented between His Royal Majesty, King Faheud and Sir Baldar de Lusignon, Baron of St Ives, Grand Marshall of the Knights of England, King's Champion shall not be scored.


My lord, I have received only a few of the participants qualifications so that we can pair the jousters evenly. It is imperative I receive this information before we can begin the tournament.

[OOC: All must ig mail their stats in strength and intelligence, please]
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Forever is not long enough to love you. ~CoH
Cordelia
Exiting her carriage, Cordelia was glad for the heavy boots she wore with her gown. For this event, she was playing Herald. She was dressed for standing out in the chill wind in heavy silks and velvets, a red gown with white ermine trim. Over her shoulders she wore a heavy fur cloak, with a matching hat. Draped across her shoulders, she wore the collar of a King of Arms and upon her arm, the blue Garter that marked her as the Garter Principal. About her wrist was tied a blue ribbon, perhaps as a favor for some jouster. Stopping a passing page, she gets directions to where Lord Chilham was.

As she makes her way across the yards, her trained eye takes in the different Arms and pennants fluttering over the different tents. Reaching Plotnik, she nods her head to him, "Lord Plotnik," She murmurs quietly, wishing to conserve her voice for later, when it would need to carry across the lists.
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Dowager Queen, GPKoA, Duchess of Surrey, Earl of Herstmonceux | Let Us Lead By Serving Others | I'll come back when you call me...
Kenrich
occ Cait, just a little note, tis stewart not seward hehe

Ken had finished his inspection of his armor when he looked up he saw Cordelia riding in, he smiled he had hoped she would be here this day, seeing there was still some time left he walked over to were she was to say hello.
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Lord High Constable, Royal Guard, Knights of the Realm, CoH Herald
Penelope_rose
Secure against the broad chest of Hamish as his arm steadied her while the horse cantered towards Lord Plotnik, Penelope reveled in the knowledge that the two were becoming closer day by day.

Having pointed out where Lord Plotnik stood, Penelope impulsively hid behind the massive fur cloak that sheltered Hamish from the December breeze. Nearly yelping as the horse dipped its knee, Penelope held on tight to Hamish's arm lest she fall forward to reveal her ruse.

A smile formed as she heard Hamish's words comparing her to a star of the heavens. This man surely knew how to make a lady's heart melt, she thought as Lord Plotnik answered Hamish.

Laughter announced her presence as Penelope flung the fur away from her body to reveal herself. Teasing Plotnik, she gaily answered, "Like you could escape a visit from my, my dear friend!"

Hugging Hamish's arm as he continued to hold on to her she continued, "I'm glad you two met. And, Plot, thank you for arranging this most wonderful event.!"

Penelope heard someone call out Hamish's name and turned in the direction from where she heard it. Seeing the King surrounded, she finally noticed Lady Destini. "If you will excuse us, Plotnik, we shall greet others." Smiling fondly at Plotnik, Penelope looked at Hamish expectantly.
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CoH Herald
--Theoden
"Bloody weather," muttered Theoden as he picked his way through the tourney grounds, dodging retainers, knights and audience alike. Beside him, Ser Leris stalked, silent as always, a sharp contrast to the constant murmurings of his companion. "It was better in France, you know," Theoden continued, uncaring as to whether Leris was listening or not, which he usually wasn't. "It was mild, comfortable, warm at times even! The women were surely more giving too, not like these cold witches." The blond haired knight shuddered as he recalled his own many attempts to bed a variety of Englishwomen. "What I wouldn't give for a soft bed and a warm body," He complained, shouldering his way through a crowd of people gathered around a small stall that was selling all kinds of food. English food, mind you, bland, tasteless, unsatisfyingly limp. "Why does everything in this bleeding country..." He growled, unfinished, as he finally pushed his way through the final vestiges of the crowd. He wasn't one to talk, really, being Englishborn himself, but so many years on the bloodied fields of France, marching and crossing swords had been a change. More than like, it had been a change for all three men, but Theoden was the only one who was likely to be vocal about it. "Bloody, bloody, bloody," The handsome knight chanted as he smushed his way across the tourney before stopping suddenly. Leris appeared silently at his shoulder.

"Leris!" Theoden stated, "Where shall we find our most esteemed host? One would assume he would be surrounded by a large amount of commoners but we've passed several already and...ah hah!" He proclaimed finally, pointing a gauntled finger at the registration tent where a formidable gathering had appeared and there in the center, was Lord Plotnik himself, if he wasn't mistaken by the same portrait they had placed up on the tourney announcement. "Be a dear, Leris and fetch Ser Eaves. I shall approach anon and engage in conversation!" As Leris slipped quietly away, Theoden weaved his way through more bodies, touching here and there gently so that he could pass without pushing people into the mud. "Lord Plotnik!" He called, cheerily, green eyes twinkling as he placed himself before the tourney host, "Good day!" He added, extending an armoured hand.
Hamish
I dismount and bow to Lord Plotnik " a pleasure to meet you sir! I turn and offer my arms out to catch Lady Penelope_Rose as she dismounts from the horse. I hear a voice calling, I know that voice!" "Destini! How are you? So so so good to have you here!" I laugh and wait for my lady love to fall into my arms.

...
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Penelope_rose
Accepting Hamish's help, Penelope dismounted from his huge horse, glad for his strong hands circling her waist. A smile formed as he easily lowered her till her feet touched the ground, all the while ensuring a respectable distance was kept between their bodies.

Stepping out of his embrace, Penelope turned to Plotnik and gave him a warm hug, whispering, "I have missed you my friend and shall gladly spend some time with you and Anyamariee during the festivities. We have much to catch up on."

Resting her fingers on the crook of Hamish's arm, she beamed up at him as they picked their way through the mud and grass towards King Faheud where Destini stood. Seeing the king surrounded by others, Penelope turned her attention to Lady Destini. "Destini. Seems we live in a small world. Whoever would have thought a man living in Egremont would know a lady living in Sussex." Affectionately squeezing Hamish's arm, Penelope looked between the two trying to understand how they knew one another.
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CoH Herald
Destini
At Hamish's greeting, there could be no doubt that this was the same man she had known. She watched as Hamish helped Lady Penelope to dismount. Clearly, he was still the gentleman he had always been. A glimmer of a smile teased the left corner of Destini's lips as her minstrel's talent to read an audience picked up on the body language betwixt these two. Her eyes sparkled with delight as the two approached.

"Lady Penelope, 'tis good to see ye again! I trust ye've been well?" said Destini to Penelope in greeting before answering her implied question. "Even livin' in Sussex as I do, I am still a traveler. I donae stay in one place fer long -- but every story has its beginnin', an' Hamish here is a part o' mine. One o' the best mayors Imleach ever had, in my opinion."

She looked to Hamish with memories dancing behind her grey eyes. "Eleven months since I've seen ye, Hamish. I'm a little surprised to see ye here in England. So, ye're in Egermont, now? Ye'll have to tell me yer tale o'er an ale or whiskey -- but later, o' course." She smiled with a glance at Hamish's bright armor. "I can see ye're one fer the joust -- an' I, too, have duties o' my own."
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Ghostwriter
The Princess Heir smiled as Hamish and Penelope spoke with Destini. She was surprised to see her Squire there, but pleased to see him for the first time since leaving Egremont. She stayed still, stood a few steps from Destini, her eyes scanning the moving crowd as people milled past, constantly alert to any sudden movement near the King. Today would be an interesting day and she looked forward to watching the King on the field, praying to Jah that all would be well. Looking to the King briefly Ghostwriter smiled before turning her attention back to the conversation going on near.
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Baroness of Cartmel; Dean of the Naval College of England; Knight Castellan - KoTR
--Pocket
As the crowd gathered and milled about as often happens at the beginning of a tournament, there came a sound down the lane towards the arena.

Clippety Clop

Clippety Clop


Eventually everyone could see a very strange little rider on a very strange little pony, in full jousting kit.

The rider came near, lifted his visor, adjusted the coxcomb atop the lot and said quite cheerily, "What Ho! Your Majesty!! Am I too late for the joust?"

The little fellow hardly waited for an answer before nudging his mighty steed over near Penelope Rose. "Hello Duch-chess! Jousting today?"

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