The Royal District

The Royal District is off limits to any and all people without official business with the ruling party or with the military. This district is obviously where the majority of the town's taxes are spent.

Today was the day of the tourney and it the Royal District was full to the brim with spectators and competitors alike. The guards were on especially high alert and there were even a few of the King's Elite present to keep the peace. In the middle of the ever shifting mass of bodies was a very large, multi-tiered and leveled arena like structure made just for this event. Also, some of the vendors that had set up makeshift stalls in the Market District have moved there stalls into this district.

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As they traveled through Rutger lifted his nose, scenting all the delectable scents.

Lai'or walked ahead, looking around for the contestant entrance. "Where is that damnedable thing?"

Yalala looked around and quickly spotted the contestant entrance, mainly due to the long line infront of it.

"Ahem..." Yalala said pointing at the long trail of people.

"Ah, see, such keen eyes have their uses." Lai'or said as he moved to the front of the line with Yalala. "This is Yalala of Darkgrove and she is entering with my nomination." The man at the desk with the quill looked up with a sigh before writing her name down in a seperate section. "Go'on in and get ready." Lai'or turned to Yalala with a smile, "There we go, let's get you prepped." he said as he led her into through the entrance.

"I don't have a record of birth with me." Yalala told him, knowing that in most tourneys you had to prove your heritage.

"That is why I am nominating and sponsoring you." Lai'or said as he looked into each room as they passed, trying to find the archery section. "You don't need to prove you are who you say you are because that would cast doubt upon my honor and blah blah blah."

Yalala followed, not really caring about Lai'or's honor.

"Ah, here we are." Lai'or said as he spotted the target set up for pre-tourney practice, "Well, this is your stop. Play nice and don't practice too much before the event."

"Wouldn't want anyone to see any tricks?" She asked, figuring that was what he meant. She was looking for horses, wondering if there would be a mounted competition and if Rutger would be allowed with her during the competition.

"Well, that too." Lai'or said. "Do you have any questions before I head up to watch?"

"Is there a mounted category?" She asked, obviously wondering if Rutger was allowed.

"There is, but you're entered in as an archer so you won't be doing that." Lai'or said, trying to picture her riding her dog around while shooting targets. "The first round will be the simple, stand there and shoot at a stationary target and then probably a moving target."

Yalala nodded, so far it didn't seem like anything she'd hadn't done before.

Seeing that no further questions were coming his way, Lai'or clapped his hands together, "Well then, good luck and do us proud." with that he turned and left the competitor's area.

Yalala didn't wave back. She looked around at those she would be competing with and saw.....

Just about what Lai'or was talking about. Most of the entrants looked as if they had just enough skill with a bow to kill a deer or two for their family. There were a few that looked like they may be professional hunters and even more that may give Yalala a run for her money.

Yalala found a nearby bail of hay and sat. She didn't need to practice. Or at least, she was just pampas enough not to believe that she did. Then again she might want to keep her secrets to herself. She sat and watched her opponents. Rutger pushed his nose under her arm until she began to scratch his head. He moved his head into her lap and waited for the tourney with her.

Lok followed a throng of people as they made their way to the tournament grounds. Guards were posted just about everywhere, as he suspected. He felt safer knowing precautions were being taken. Looking around at the events available, he saw...

It looked to Lok like there were the general combat specialties: Melee, Archery/Ranged, Magic, and then a Mixed category for those that specialize in multiple techniques.

He was pleased to see the city catering to all the varied combat professions, and not preferring one over another. He felt confident he could participate in both the melee and magic arenas. He looked around for a place to sit and await other entrants and for the tourney to begin.

As Lok looked for a vacant seat, one that seemed more and more futile as the seconds passed, he noticed a line of people waiting in front of a long table with three individuals writing down names. Above their heads hung the corresponding contest sign for the three sections.

You should have been paying closer attention, you dolt! Lok chided himself silently. He took a moment to recompose himself, then walked over to the back of the line of people so he could wait to sign himself in.

Nathaniel made his way, along with Jerrit, to the district. He continuously glanced around, observing the architecture as he moved about the crowd. The priest had told them to go to the Royal District. Judging by the architecture, if they weren't there, then they were close.

Jerrit kept close to Nathaniel, constantly standing on tiptoes to see over the heads of those taller than him. He looked around quickly and spotted the line of people. "There!" he said, pointing in the direction.

"You are certain?" Nathaniel asked, spying the gathering of people in the direction Jerrit pointed. He did not like crowds....

"Apart from climbing upon your shoulders and rereading the signs labeled for the contests, I would have to say yes," Jerrit said, a crooked smile on his face as he casually elbowed Nathaniel's arm lightly. "Come on, we should go sign in."

"If you require additional height, you only need ask. I believe I could lift you rather easily." Nathaniel told him with a crooked smirk of his own.

The lines may be very long, but appeared to be moving at a rapid pace. This cut Lok's wait down as he reached the "Mixed" catagory.

Lok smiled to the person at the registration table, as he finally reached the front of his line. "Good morning. I would like to sign in for this tournament. My name is Lok Greyfeather." He stood happily, waiting to see what other information would be required.

The man, glad someone was answering his questions before he asked them, wrote down the information as Lok gave it to him. "What is your specific profession, if any?"

He smiled again. "Of course, sir. I am a Cleric. A devotee of Pelor, if it makes any difference," said Lok.

Jerrit actually laughed at that comment. "Tell Neradine that and she will be in love with you for the rest of your life." He headed in the direction of the lines. "She is pretty self conscious about her height. Or rather her lack thereof."

"I am certain Lady Neradine would be easier still to lift than yourself." Nathaniel told him with a smirk. He looked about the lines and sighed, "There sure are an awful lot of competitors."

"And we will defeat them all," Jerrit said with definite confidence. "Have faith that what will happen is what must happen." He checked that all his weapons were intact before joining the mixed fighter line. "I do hope they have a talent portion to this competition."

Nathaniel joined Jerrit in the mixed fighter line. He could have just as easily used the magic line, but against a sorcerer or wizard, his magic paled in comparison. But against a run of the mill fighter, he might just have the upper hand

The man wrote the information down for Lok before handing him a piece of paper. "Hold onto that, they'll need it before you compete."

"Excellent. My thanks, friend," he took the paper and continued, "But erm.. can you direct me where I need to go from here, please?" Lok looked a bit lost.

"Enter here and take the trip around to the other side of the arena." He said as he motioned the next person up. The line began moving quickly again and soon it was Jerrit's time up.

"Hello," Jerrit said to the man in front of him. "Jerrit Sahlia, at your service." He leaned against the table and looked down at the papers without really reading anything.

The man wrote it down on the list, "And your specific profession?"

Jerrit shot a nervous look at Nathaniel before leaning down close and whispering to the man. "Does a member of the Thieves' Guild count as a profession?"

"Not really, but it does count as a confession." The man said, "gesturing" with his eyes to the nearby guard as a way of warning Jerrit to watch what he says. "I will put down 'Trap-springer' if that works?"

"We will go with dungeoneer," Jerrit said with a nod. "That would cover most of my skills." He shrugged and stood up again. "No one seems to take our guild seriously, even if we are a recognized group even by royalty."

"Whether or not your group is taken seriously, admitting you are a part of the group means you must have met their 'criteria'" the man said as he wrote down Jerri's suggestion and then handed him a paper. "Keep a hold of that, they will need it when you compete."

Jerrit took the paper and stepped aside, keeping his remarks to himself about the 'criteria' for the guild. Half the people around could pass the tests and he knew it. Being in the guild had nothing to do with stealing. But he stayed quiet and waited for Nathaniel.

Lok took the man's advice and strolled leisurely around to the other side of the arena. He searched for a place to put his things and relax for a touch before he were called to compete. He felt he always did better if he had a moment to meditate to clear his head.

Lok didn't have to look long before he spotted a few large rooms marked with the "Mixed" category sign. Nathaniel was next in line after Jerrit, "What's your name?" the man asked him.

"I am Nathaniel Alastair Kenneth Helefern." He replied, bowing his head to the man as he stated his name. "I must know your name as well, sir. For I have given you mine."

The man gave Nathaniel a curious look with a raised eyebrow, "I'm afraid it doesn't work that way right now." he said simply as he wrote the long name down. "Now, what is your specific profession?"

"I'm afraid it doesn't work that way right now. I have given you my name. Proper etiquette and general politeness would have you respond similarly. Is it a name that you find humiliating? Even so, it is your name and you should take pride in that." Nathaniel told the man, crossing his massive arms across his chest. It was a simple request, really. It was only fair that the man comply anyway. He had given his own name freely, one can only expect the same to be done in return.

"You gave me your name so you could compete in this tournament and because I am the one you have to give your name to, to sign up." The man explained, "If it were the other way around, then I would give you my name, but the way it is now, you are not getting it. Now, what is your specific profession?"

Nathaniel glared at the man and couldn't help but pout slightly. He exhaled sharply through his nose and shrugged. "Very well, so much for being courteous. I am a Duskblade."

Glad that the issue about his name was over, the man wrote the information down and handed Nathaniel a piece of paper. "Hold onto this paper, you will need it if you want to compete."

Nathaniel took the paper and slipped it within his shirt. There was no safer place for it on his person.

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Mrath Teeg
The Kingdom of Mrath
The Heros