Rhonda
**THE FINAL JOUST**
The Mizzen, Tonate Proper

Getting into a suit of armor was always one of the most inconvenient things imaginable. It was a whole ordeal, especially tourney armor, which was fitted differently than a standard suit of armor. The straps and fittings were always annoying, and this recent suit Eric had purchased was needlessly elaborate. Eric was about finished reflecting on this fact when a strap was pulled by Ser Gerwold, earning an annoyed grunt from Eric. 

"Too tight?" The young knight asked

"Too tight." Eric responded.

Gerwold loosened the strap finished getting Eric into his suit and gave a final look over, making sure no straps were missed. 

"Think you'll beat him?"

"If I didn't think I could beat everyone here, I probably wouldn't have entered the lists. But I think it's more than even. Whoever he is, he's good. Though his last opponent was a bit cocky, I'll try to avoid being over confident."

"We got this my lord. Your horse is ready, you'll emerge when they call out your name. They're gonna go through your titles and some added ones for dramatic effect."

"This is all a show, afterall." Eric sighed.

The criers emerged onto The Mizzen, one with the horn that signalled the start of the joust. The crier without the horn placed his hands up and slowly walked in a circle, signalling for the crowd to lower their voices. Obediently, the islander's lowered themselves to a hushed, excited chatter. 

The crier cleared his voice.

"We've had a long day of jousting! Some of the best men from the Islands and the Mainland have gathered to test themselves in front of you, many were humbled. But our final two stand above the rest! Those two will now demonstrate to all of _YOU_" He makes a grandiose hand gesture toward the crowd as they begin to cheer, he waits a moment to let them settle down so he can continue. "...To all of YOU fair people, that they are the best of all of the contestants!"

He paused for a moment, looking toward both entrances of the field, getting a confirmation that both the Raven Knight and Lord Stafford were ready. He got his confirmation.

"And without further ado, we present our contestants. The first on the field will be the Lord of Stormalong, Protector of South Feyshore and Astoria, the man who conquered a kingdom as but a _squire_! Lord Eric Stafford!"

_I suppose that's my cue._ Eric thought to himself before emerging onto the field, to the welcoming sounds of a roaring crowd. He put his hand up to wave back at the crowd. The horse trotted up to the starting position where Eric stopped and was brought his shield. Ser Gerwold bolted up and handed a lance to Eric who donned his helmet and took the lance. Entirely ready to go.

The crier raised his hands again to quiet the shouts and cheers of the crowd. The people obediently silenced once more, speaking in quiet, excited murmurs. "And his worthy opponent!" The crier said with a dramatic flourishing gesture to the other side of the field. "The dark, illusive challenger shrouded in mystery: The Raven Knight!"

A few seconds passed as the crowd stared into the dark entrance on the opposite side of the field, the silence heightening the anticipation. And then, the roar of the crowd greeted the masked man as he walked out into view. The black scarf was still tied around his head and his black mask covered his eyes as he casually raised a gloved hand in greeting to the wild crowd. His horse was brought to his side at the starting position, already pawing the ground.

A faint smile appeared on the Raven Knight's lips as his eyes locked with Eric's on the other side of the arena, and he gave a nod of greeting before he mounted his horse.

Eric raised his lance in salute to his opponent, leaving it raised for a few moments before lowering it just as the crier began to speak again.

"My fair people, I will not force you to wait much longer before these two titans clash! Let the final joust BEGIN!" He shouted out as the other man blew the horn. 

Not a moment was lost for Eric, the horn blew and he kicked his horse into motion. Adrenaline began to pump into his veins as time seemed to slow down for him as he closed with the blurred black mass. Eric dipped his lance, aiming for the dead center of the Raven Knight's shield. The lance ended up making contact a bit high as Eric dipped his lance late, slamming into a higher part of the shield but upon contact, Eric's lance shattered into splinters while the Raven Knight's did the same thing on Eric shield, causing Eric to jolt at the impact.

The two passed each other through a mist of wooden shards that had been blasted into the air. Eric rode to his new position, came to a stop and held his hand out for another lance. The lance arrived and Eric looked down at Ser Gerwold. 

"He hit hard." Eric said before turning his horse around and moving to the next starting position. On the opposite side of the field, the Raven Knight lowered his own shield as attendants swiftly replaced his shattered lance.

With both sides again set, the horn was blown again with the roar of the crowd following. But for Eric, the crowd's roars were dull. He was intently focused this time on hitting the Raven Knight's shield as dead center as he possibly could. The horses roared down the list and much like the first pass, the two lances were shattered. Eric was again jarred and clearly recoiled from the hit. But Eric did land his lance as close to center as possible, even leaving a little dent in the Raven Knight's shield.

Eric returned to his starting position, rotating his shoulder, as much as he could in the armor. 

"Lance." Eric said, not interested in talking, entirely intent on getting back to his starting position for the next pass. On the opposite side of the field, Eric could see the Raven Knight held out his broken lance. Though his expression was hidden by his helmet, it was clear that the Raven Knight was as focused on returning to the next pass as Eric was.

The horn blew again and Eric's horse was once again off. The two closed and again, Eric dropped his lance. Though this time, his timing was near perfect with a solid hit on the shield. His lance collapsing inward and exploding down to the handle. Eric received a blow, but it seemed to be a glancing hit on Eric as he didn't jerk back as bad as he had the last few times. Instead, the Raven Knight was the one who was thrown backwards. Excited yells and cries from the crowd roared as he nearly slipped from his saddle on impact with the blow, his body tiled sharply to the side. He managed to grab a tight hold of his horse's reins to prevent his falling off, struggling to upright himself for a few moments before finally getting back into his saddle.

Eric's horse came to a sliding stop as Sir Gerwold bolted toward him with a fresh lance. "You almost had him!" He exclaimed, offering it up. 

Eric gritted his teeth. "Almost." He said, taking the lance. "Let's finish him. Hopefully he's off balance now." He took the lance and brought his horse back to the start, impatiently waiting for another horn to blast. 

Eventually, the horn blast echoed and Eric was once agains roaring toward his opponent. Eric dropped his lance, but his exhausted horse flinched and pulled away, causing the aimed blow to hit the Raven Knight's shield off center. The lance broke, but Eric received a much more direct hit from the Raven Knight.

The hit caused Eric to involuntarily throw the shattered lance handle into the air. His hand kept hold of the reins, but his body leaned back, shifting weight dramatically. The horse reared back for a moment, and Eric clung on desperately. In what felt like an eternity, Eric's horse brought the front feet back into the ground and trotted back across the list. Eric fixed his position in the saddle. But he felt his stomach drop and an anxious chill creeped over him, despite the humid island air. 


"He almost fucking got me." Eric said coldly, as Ser Gerwold brought another Eric another lance. 

"Almost, though." Ser Gerwold offered. Eric scoffed and turned back toward the list. His horse was tired, and the heat was wearing on Eric as well. He'd need to knock him out now, or Eric was going to lose the battle of attrition. 

The horn blasted, and Eric dug his spurs into the horse's sides, sending it into a near gallop down the list toward the Raven Knight. Eric lowered his lance carefully, just moments before he knew he'd make contact.

Time seemed to move slowly as the Raven Knight's lance quickly changed position, from what would have been a lance to Eric's chest now to hit squarely on Eric's shoulder.

Eric felt the impact of hitting him. The shattering of his lance.

He also felt the Raven Knight's lance slam into him. His body jerked back and he saw blue sky. He no longer felt a saddle beneath him, and he soon felt a hard impact. 

The impact led to a burst of pain springing in Eric's shoulder, throbbing and the breath was knocked out of him. All of this was familiar, and for a moment he thought he was in a snow covered forest again. The roaring of the crowd was replaced by distant screams, and a horn blew. A war horn?

Eric opened his eyes, finding himself once again in The Mizzen. He was laying in the sand with a count just starting. He must have only been on the ground for seconds, as the sound of his horse continuing to gallop away was heard. 

Eric grumbled, sitting up. The count faltered for a moment, and one of the criers ran over to Eric as he was climbing to his feet. 

"He wins." Eric admitted. "Fair and square. Give it to him." He said through a hoarse, frustrated voice. Eric removed his own helmet to get some air as he stood from afar for a moment, looking toward the Raven Knight. Eric gave a nod toward him.

The Raven Knight dismounted his horse as the thunderous cheers and whistles of the crowd rang in the air. Removing his helmet so that his masked face was once again visible, he raised a hand to the crowd as flowers, necklace, and other accolades were tossed in his direction amid the deafening noise. He turned to see his opponent giving him a nod, and he nodded back with a faint smile before turning his attention to the royal box where King Caderyn was sitting. His expression turned serious as he took a few steps to be closer to the king.

*'This is it.'*

A faint hush swept over the crowd in anticipation as the Raven Knight took out the sword from his sheath and in one swift moment, stuck it into the ground. Facing King Caderyn, the masked man kept his gaze on the king as he lowered his stance to kneel down on one knee, preparing to make his oath. He carefully removed a gauntlet, and then the other. The crowd was silent now. People's necks craned to who the Raven Knight would be revealed to be.

With one swift movement, the Raven Knight pulled away both the dark scarf that was wrapped around his head and his black mask. A collective gasp came from the crowd as his identity was revealed.
Cedric
Bastien de Lysse, the Raven Knight
Tonate Proper

"I, Bastien de Lysse, claim my victory for Terresol, for the Gods of our people, and for their rightful King, Caderyn Vortigern." Bastien's violet eyes raised to meet the Terresolian king as his voice broke the stunned silence of the crowd. His snow-white hair ruffled over a faint breeze, but his deep, husky voice was easily audible to the crowd. With his gaze stayed on King Caderyn. "I swear both my sword and my life to you, my King. "

There was a brief pause as he thought to the violent war brewing in the North, threatening to invade his homeland at a moment's notice. John de Burgh and his countless men wanting to take over their land by force, leaving a violent, bloody trail that would soon reach Terresol's doorstep. Bastien had sworn to protect and serve his people, and now he was finally in a position where he could do so. Where he could actually make a difference. And King Caderyn, the true royal heir to Terresol, expressed the desire to fight as well. And the desire to win.

"Praise be to Saris and Praise be to House de Lysse. Praise be to the Rightful Royal Family of Terresol, who shall return to our shores stronger, braver, more true than any other realm." He stood up from his knelt position, his eyes still locked as he stood up to his tall height. "Long may you reign."

Wild screams and cheers of applause, shouts, and other commotion came from the crowd that would have drowned out his voice had he more to say, but it did not matter. He had already said his piece. A warm, intense feeling burned throughout Bastien's body, coursing through his veins. He looked down at the ground, his mind racing. The moment felt surreal, almost as if it was a dream. But when his eyes once again met Caderyn's, the idea of an illusion was lost. As Bastien's expression turned to one of a serious, determined young man, something crackled in the depths of his eyes.

An amethyst flame.
Felicia
**Cyprien de Lysse ⚜️ The Mizzen**

The announcement came as a total shock to Bastien's father. The poor lord had been in the middle of drinking wine when he heard the announcement, and part of the liquid ended in his lungs.
It should've been obvious in hindsight: Bastien had come to the isles for the tournament, but Cyprien had expected him to wear the regal white and burgundy colors of his House, not the raven knight's dark armor.

Whatever the reason, his son had used the reveal to great effect: he had dedicated his victory to the gods, his house, and the rightful king. A true display of chivalry, enough to make any father proud. Right now, Cyprien only wished he had known beforehand. Now he regretted having become distracted while the joust was underway.

But it he had failed to show support earlier, he wouldn't allow that now. Without waiting to see the other's reactions, he stood up and added his applause to the masses.
Elissa
Mouse 
Tonate Proper

Mouse had decided not to take sides through the joust, though towards the end there was some small hope for the Eric fella. Though, she didn't shed any tears when he inevitably lost.

With the crowd, she roared and cheered and clapped her hands until they were red and stung, and she still kept clapping as the Raven Knight's helmet was removed.

She didn't know who the young man was, nor did she have any care. When he started praising one of the men on the balcony (that *Wasn't* King Bradai, might she add) she joined a small chorus of complaints.

"Booooo! Get yer fuckin mainlander shite oot!" She called, cupping her hands around her mouth,"Bleedin dickhead!"
Emma
Ferdinand Chapoisson and Carac the Butcher

Ferdinand's mouth hung agape, he had not expected this. But as quickly as his surprise had come, he forced it out, returning to his jovial facade and applauding the young man's speech with the rest of the crowd. As he clapped for the newly-revealed knight, a small grin crossed his face. He was seated right next to one of the De Lysse's, the boy's father no less, he could surely use that to his advantage in some way. 
Turning to Cyprien and speaking over the raucous cheers of the crowd, he asked his question. 
"Good show from your boy out there! Did you know anything about this?" He asked in his most friendly tone of voice. An honest, friendly question from a harmless merchant lord, or at least that's what Ferdinand hoped it would be taken as. 

Carac, for his part, had no idea who this boy was. What the hell was a 'Duh Leese"? But at least it confirmed what he already thought, the Raven Knight was nothing more than some arrogant Lord's son who wanted to play dress up. Bloody cocksuckers loved nothing more than putting on some impractical armor and running around to play hero. Then they got into a real fight and ended up dead. 
If this Bastien fellow were smart, he'd do the sensible thing and retire from the battlefield as soon as possible. Live the rest of his days in moderate fame and fortune up in Araedia or wherever the hell he came from. 
But Carac knew he wouldn't do that, Nobles were never smart enough to know when to quit.
Felicia
Cyprien de Lysse ⚜️ The Mizzen

_Did you know anything about this?_

The words of Earl Ferdinand hung in the air as Cyprien weighted his answer. He could tell the truth, but admitting to not knowing what his own son had been up to would make him look clueless. Similarly, he felt as claiming he knew all along diminished Bastien's merits in some way... He couldn't explain why.

It was the grunting of Chapoisson's sombre bodyguard that reminded Cyprien of the crude reality of politics. He could not afford to look weak, let alone like a fool.

"He's my son. I never had any doubts he would emerge as the vanquisher," He lied.
Tom
Calypso Kolgrim 

Tonate Proper | The Mizzen 

The second the scarf That covered the "Raven Knight" Head got pulled of revealing familiar silver hair Calypso had instantly known who was kneeling in front of the king, and her jaw hit the floor, something very unusual and un-ladylike from her. It took her a moment to recompose, but how to blame her? The terresolian lady was shocked.

And from the sounds of choking and spouting coming from beside her, Calypso deduced that she wasn't alone in her surprise. 
She didn't turn around to check on the older man.

Instead, she focused her mind on the previous jousts, replaying in her head all duel where the raven Knight had taken part. Trying to find something that she *Should* Have noticed. But she didn't. Lord Bastien had completely fooled Calypso, together with the rest of the crowd. And that notion, despite the annoyance that it brought her, also caused her lips to curl into a cat-like smile, as she started to clap, slowly and elegantly. "Well played my lord." Murmured her.
Emma
Ferdinand Chapoisson and Carac the Butcher
The mizzen

Ferdinand looked at Cyprien and smiled, then lowered himself back into his chair. A vague answer, yet still implying that he was aware of his son's actions the entire time. A perfect answer for a noble from Terresol, both avoiding looking weak by implying he was taken by surpise, while still giving his son credit for his ploy. 
Of course, all that Terresolian pomp and ambiguity couldn't hide the fact he had just swallowed half a glass of wine in surprise. Cyprien was just as surprised as everyone else, Bastien truly had pulled the wool over everyone's eyes, even his own father's. 

"With a boy like that, I'm sure you'd have no doubts!" Ferdinand said cheerfully, giving Cyprien a polite smile, though perhaps a bit overly-familiar. Of course, acting overly-familiar was his goal. People like Cyprien were most frightened by others like them, other scheming nobles and plotting lords. But Ferdinand? He was nothing more than a well-meaning, if a little simple, plump Earl from a backwater is Astoria. 'Nothing to be afraid of here' his smile would say to them, 'i'm just another harmless idiot'. It was only when the knife was finally stuck in their gut that they realized they had been played, and sometimes not even then. "Your son is a true champion, the last time I saw someone fight with that much skill was the day I hired Carac over there!" He laughed to himself, patting the armored man standing behind him on the wrist, the only part of him Ferdinand could reach from his seat. Carac, for his part, simply grunted in agreement. 
"You must be proud of your boy, not many could do what he did."
Edith
**Kirk Pinewood
The Royal Balcony, The Mizzen**

*"Here on business."*

*"Who knows if I'll have time to attend the joust?"*

The words from the boy in the bathhouse Kirk had met earlier that day echoed through his head as he looked upon the man who said them, now victorious in the tournament. "Sneaky." Kirk whispered to himself before popping yet another of King Maith's free snacks into his mouth. He thought back to the short manner with which the purple-eyed lad had conducted himself and thought it was perhaps just from being nervous and not an aversion to women.

Kirk looked to Dennon, who was back at his original seat following what looked like an unpleasant conversation with Bradai's sister. He was clapping with confused enthusiasm, trying to match the energy of the crowd. Kirk began to realize why. He hadn't told him about his encounter with Bastien. Dennon probably had no idea who the De Lysse's were, and judging by the reactions of nearly everyone else in the arena, he seemed to be the only one out of the loop. Just as Kirk began to wonder if this setup was intentional, another food tray came by. "Hold on, let me make room on my plate."