NationStates Jolt Archive

The County of Homefire intends to hold a tourney, open to warriors of all nations. The defending champion in the Homefire tournament is the Lady Sascha ni Fiona, victor of the last three annual competitions. Competitions shall include jousting, dueling, archery, sorcery, and a battle of wits.

The emperor was dead. His son was dead. He hadn't spoken with another nation in months. As the toxins slowly ate at his body, he became too weak to rule. His son would have taken his place had not the assassins finished the job, with intentions of placing bullets in the rest of the royal family. The nation he had left behind, now much larger and more powerful, was up for grabs. How would a new ruler be chosen, and by whom? With snipers on every rooftop, waiting for royalty and nobility to pass by, the power structure had slowly decayed. Because security had fallen asleep when their nation needed them most, the people were now running the government. The terrorists- the freedom fighters, that is- they had won. Now, it was time to make the candidates a bit more appealing, time to reopen the nation to the rest of the world.

Jonathan Lardek was formerly a special operative who may or may not have allowed a certain amount of people into a certain government higher-up's office. People with knives. He never really considered the repercussions, such as the trench-coat clad stalkers who haunted him, watching him through his window, wanting to get their money back. He wasn't afraid of them, of course- he had everything he needed to take on a platoon. He had run into one of them in a bar. He had been led into an ally full expecting an ambush. When the man pulled a knife, Lardek snapped his neck in two and stole his knife, gutting the next assailant before tossing the blade between the eyes of the final little scab. He had tossed the bodies into the dumpster, where they were later discovered by a screaming old lady.
And at last, his training was going to go somewhere where he could really use it. He had a hit list of who was going to be taken out once he became ruler. Since nowadays the rebels pretty much controlled the country, anarchy was the ruler and it would be a candidate like Lardek's job to not only make himself and his nation look good but to make the previous administration look bad. He would publicize himself as the anti-emperor, but honestly- he admired the poor man, who was struck down before he could enter his ripe old age. And of course, he had plans to make his term in office indefinite. This would be the beginning of the campaign trail. Finally, a good fight that went somewhere besides black alleys behind bars. He was here. He was ready. He was going to make his name known.
(OOC: Actually, a friend was taking over my nation, though I was planning to kill my emperor anyway. Sorry to those of you that were expecting replies in previous threads, especially to the Resurgent Dream.)

(OOC: red denotes narration)

Since ancient times, have the people of Cacobellum upheld old ways of warfare - despite new technology - as sport, tradition, and even to a small extent in battle. As largely melee in nature, the troops are often seen equiped with swords as secondary weapons as they go forward to battle, so that with hope, the occasion may arise where they may indulge in these practices to with they hold affection.

Although sorcery is unheard of, dueling, jousting, and to a far lesser extent archery are practised commonly as sports in the country

...

A large, yet quite empty office, with a desk near the back of the room, but facing the entrance. There are two hung paintings per adjacent wall. behind the large desk is large window, covered with dark grey, plastic venetian blinds, opened.

[A diplomat walks swiftly into the office of the chancellor of the exchequer, halting before the chair placed in front of the desk]

DIPLOMAT: Chancellor, word has it that The County of Homefire, in The Resurgent Dream intends to hold a tournement of old techniques, open to warriors of all nations

CHANCELLOR: Yes, so I now hear, then we will send a team to compete of course, we can not miss such an opportunity, or all will be so disappointed. Accordingly, this division advocates involvement in such an event and will allocate funds and as appropriate. We will organise a team under a chosen trainer who will be the non-competing leader, including our finest sports competitors, which seems appropriate [ponders in contemplation].
[After hesitation] euh ... Thank you for your information, you are dismissed"
[DIPLOMAT leaves room, and the CHANCELLOR is left to ponder]

...

This was a unique opportunity for the nation to organise a large competing group, in the practices that endeared it. The aged veteran sword-fighter, Bepheus, renowned for his success in local tournaments was successfully sought as said leader, as equally were recent champions from these small local tournaments with a few exceptions, to comprise what would be the small team from Cacobellum, wishing to compete not in hope of victory, but in foresight, of the enjoyment gained in practising their favoured activity

OOC:
The Resurgent Dream telegramed me to tell you that they are having technical difficulties with the forums. They will be back as soon as possible.

The field is set for the tournament and the stands are filled. Heralds wait to receive the information of the competitors.

Naiomi Wildman, while on vacation, picks up a flyer advertising something she thought long since dead, a good old fashioned tourney in a nation on earth. So, after making a quick pitstop back at the colony to pick up her dai-kyu, glaive, and spidersilk armor, she programs her personal craft, the Wren with the GPS coordinates on the flyer and kicks in the boosters
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After 3 hours flight, she gets to the coordinates and opens up her comm to see if there's a traffic control.

"Greetings from the good ship Wren! Anybody out there got any ears on?"

There's no response to her signal. She finds herself flying over dense forests with a few clearings scattered throughout. Eventually, she flies over the bustling sight set for the tourney. A mile or two away is another clearing, remaining free of people.

After cruising fer about a couple minutes with no answer, she decides to set down in the empty clearing. After packing a backpack with some e-rations, grabbing a handful of silver bars, and making sure her weapons are in good shape, she unloads her e-bike, and rides towards the large group of people and tents she noticed on her way in, hoping they were at the right place, or at least knew where to go.
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(OOC: e-bike goes bout 10 mph, made fer rough terrain. Makes about as much noise as a beehive, sounds like one too. )

A young human man in silver and red livery approaches her as she pulls up. "Greetings, lady. Are you here to enter the lists for the tourney?"

" Why, yes I am m'lord. Ya know where I can park this?" she responds in a thick, almost southern sounding accent, gesturing down to her bike, the dai kyu looking a little absurd strapped to it's side, especially considering her not so great stature of 4' 8", and her slim, almost boyishly small body, her spider silk body suit hiding nothing while covering everything but her face and hands.

The herald nods. "There's a place over that way." He gestures towards an open area some few hundred yards away. "M'lady, do you not have a steed? It is required for the joust proper."

Smiling brightly, Naiomi shrugs a little.

"I was hoping I could find a good quality stable that rents out some decent horseflesh" jingling her silver a little. "Otherwise, not really, they're a little hard on the O2 where I come from."

The herald tilts his head, confused. "O two? I'm not sure exactly what you are referring to, m'lady."

The herald paused. "There is a stable a few miles north of here, in the town of Alsala. The event should not be starting for a good while. You can make it and still be here in time for the event. Is there anything else I can assist you with?"

Naiomi shakes her head, thinking that maybe she might want to pick up more than just a horse while here, noting the low tech around her.

"Well, looks like I'm gonna be drivin' up that way. Ya think ya could find me a local guide so I don't get lost and maybe help me convert my silver ta what you people use fer money? Oh yeah, and maybe tell me if my gear is legal to use here in your tourney."

She pulls her antique laqured wood dai-kyu from off the bike, setting it gently on the ground. Next she dumps 5 composite plas-steel arrows for it on the ground next to it. She finishes this by spinning her spring steel glaive up into the air and watch it land point first in the ground.

The herald shrugs. "If it is genuine silver, it is valid currency everywhere. As for your gear, I do not see a lance. You will certainly need one to compete."

The herald frowns slightly. "The lady needs a guide!"

A younger human runs over. "To where?"

"Alsala." the herald says with a shrug.

"Very well. How do I ride this...contraption?"

"Well, if ya can ride behind someone on a horse, this is almost the same thing."

She swings back over her saddle seat, legs apart, her left foot resting gently on it's peg, demonstrating to the young person how easy it was to sit on. Then she dismounts again, collects her gear, then remounts again.

"All ya have ta do is hold on ta my waist and try to sit as still as possible." Turning back to the first person she state with obvious pride,

"Oh yeah, name's Wildman, Taisa Naiomi Wildman, Shanoden Rangers. Lets go buddy."

The scout, a homely young man with dirty brown hair, smiles a little, climbing on and wrapping his arms around her waist. He gestures north. "Alright, we're going to need to start off in that direction. You need a horse and a lance, right?"

The forest is not dense in this area. It is fairly easy to make one's way through the tall and distant trees on either side. However, the canopy comes together overhead in an almost solid map. Little natural light make it all the way to the floor of this place.

Jonathan tended to his horse, feeding it an especially-formulated blend of horse feed that would invigorate the steed and give it more energy on the field. It wasn't illegal as far as he knew, but he certainly hoped that he wouldn't blow his chance here with something like this. He looked down at his own body. His black, shimmering battle gear was secured, its golden laces tightly fastened. The laces were of a polyalloy that only a high-focus energy blade would be able to penetrate, and as far as he knew no competitors had any such blades.
It was sorcery that worried Jonathan. Lictoria was known for a deeply religious past, but since his departure he had heard of unholy disgrace to the ancient rituals. The nation was truly coming into its own as another large, oppressive empire. Propaganda speakers, immigrants and criminals being shipped out of the country because of population, a police force with the right to see if the tag on your underwear was suspicious- and it was getting worse. Currently, the "holy scriptures" for a monopolistic, state-sponsored national religion enforced by law were being written. He still treasured the old traditions. He knew every precise rune to paint in his private chambers when he summoned the demon- one of the ancient lords of chaos, from a savage era when the strange race of Lictoria ruled the world, ruled over primitive humans. Sorcery worried him, yes- but he had many friends in the sorcerous realm, in the planes of the supernatural. Elements and angels, demons and darkness, ancient entities between light and dark with no patron element, still wielding vast, unimaginable power to create or destroy. They would be his guardians. And through them he would triumph.

Speeding north, Naiomi weaves back and forth, dodging trees and wheely-ing over the occasional fallen log lying on the ground. Thinking about the tournament, she starts to plan out wht she might need for the sorcery event, and how she might be able to win. 'Maybe, just maybe, I won't enter that one.' she thinks to herself. After about 10 minutes, she comes close enough to hear the town, her senses acute enough to register it's activities even from a couple minutes away. Smelling the unmistakable scent of horse manure, she drifts towards it, wondering if the guide is gonna be of any use.

The town is small. It has a few shops, a stable, an inn, a smithy, and that's really about it.

Entering the town, Naiomi stops the bike and dismounts. After looking around, she asks the guide to see if he can find her a decent mount for the joust, handing over a raw, un-cut ruby, stating that he can keep the change if the horse is satisfactory. She then heads over to the smithy, whistling the bars to 'She'll Be Comin' 'Round The Mountain' with a jaunty lift to her step. Seeing the wares provided, she curiously probes around, searching for a lance she can wield effectively.


(ruby:1/4" diameter, approx. ovalish with a quartz-shape tip, almost completely clear, 1 v.small flaw at quartz tip, approx. value $90 base NS currency.)

The scout scurries off. About half an hour later, he returns, leading a strong, brown horse. The two lances at the smithy are both of superb quality. The smith looks up with a smile. "How may I help you?"

"Hi, yeah, ummm, can I get these two lances? I got rough gems, precious metals and some decent alloy back at my, ummm, wagon, just a couple miles south of the faire to the south." She always travelles prepared and a little tritium is cheap for some decent lances. She looks over at the horse the young guide brought back and just hopes that it's as good as it looks, since she actually knows nothing except how to ride one in combat.

"I could part with them for some gemstones." he comments.

Naiomi digs in her pack and pulls out a rough-cut emerald and a uncut diamond that seems to gather all the light in the place and focus it into a rainbow all around her palm, it's obvious polish showing it's clarity and purity. "Here ya go," she states, obviously not knowing if they're actually worth anything here. She pick up thge two lances like there just really long pvc pipes and gently starts to guide them to the horse, careful not to accedently hit or break anything/one on the way there.

The smith takes them with a grin. The guide helps her load up and rides the horse back while she rides her other vehicle. "These are of excellent work, lady."

"I hope to the ancestors that this horse is good too, buddy." she plainly staes, smiling with her teeth, showing them just a little more than a toothy grin normally allows, "and I'm sorry if that seems rude, we just like to speak honest and to the point back where I come from, especially the whole 'lord an' lady bullshite' you use. Just like I told the meet'an'greeter, the names Wildman, or Tai-sa if ya have ta be formal."

She gently pulls a lance from the horse, testing it's balance while on her bike, knowing and remembering the weight and feel of it, how it couches just so, the angle it sits. Then the sudden rembered jolt of contact that travels up it, the quick twitch, like it's a living thing, as the flex straigtens out, the scent of blood, and the look on that foolish childs face, 16, and death comes for all. She shivers and looks around, here and now once again, her bike idiling.

"Hey kid, you think I'm gonna have to resort ta killing in this tourney?" a note of sadness in her tone, but determination in her gaze.

After getting back to the tourney, Naiomi sets up a automatically, self setting up tent that was attached to her pack. Watching it gently grow as the suns setting rays were converted to energy by the pizo-cell, she smiles to herself, humming a gentle tune of peace and harmony that she learned from her mother, knowing that people were probably wondering if it was witchcraft (the tent).
After it's done, she wanders the faire, looking for a food merchant that's still open, or even a beergarten that serves food, gently bowing to the various people she encounters, smiling happily, but not stopping in her quest for dinner.



(OOC: Where is everybody?)

The guide blinks. "Killing? I should certainly hope not. It's a tourney, not a war."

After finding something to eat, Naiomi wanders back to her tent, looking at the tourney site, wondering if any one else is competing. Gently humming to herself she stops to admire a horse, wondering if it's one of the competitions. After watching its movements for a minute or so, she continues on her way, enjoying the night air. Seeing her horse reminds her of it's basic needs also, so she jogs around till she finds that nice kid that had helped her not get lost.

" Um, hey, you there." she says, "Did the horse come with horse feed?" hoping it's not just another phantom her brain sometimes insists are always there.



OOC: What, no one else is playing?

#TAG# for possible joining...

William Arkinton rode slowly up to the herald, raised the visor of his bassinet, and apostrophed him:

" My good man, is it you who takes the entries to this tourney?"