(514-05-19) Before the Challenges
Summary: A meetup before the challenges of the day..
Date: 514-05-19
Related: Wedding Tourney
amalthea isyld iolo elrick cyndeyrn martyn bronwen heulwen 


The tavern. Slowly, but surely, Amalthea is becoming an alcoholic. This is the third time in as many days that the Dinton lady has been to the establishment. Maybe it's just close to the stables, or maybe the wine really is that good. Whatever the case, here is where Thea is found on a lovely afternoon, relaxing at a table by the central firepit, smelling like hay and horses. In front of her is a book of torn and tattered parchment, Latin letters just barely visible, and accompanied by the glass of wine that sits next to it.

Isyld is just entering the tavern, she was terribly late to the events, missing most of the joust competitions and the wedding and requesting of gifts. Wearing a dress, looking much like a lady should, she enters with a younger girl wearing a tunic and pants with boots. Closing the door behind her, a brief glance around and the Chalke makes her way to the bar but doesn't have a seat. Instead, she gives the barkeep a smile, lips tilting crookedly. "Mead, ale, whatever is good." Because she genuinely doesn't really know the difference!

Iolo makes his way over towards the table Amalthea has claimed as her drinking table and he moves to sit down with her, "Enjoying the Tavern, Lady Amalthea?" he asks, flashing a smile her way, "I hope you don't mind that I sit with you for a bit, it was a bit presumptuous."

Not long after Isyld makes her entrance, the door to the tavern swings open again to admit another knight, this time it is one from the Laverstocks. Elrick has also arrived at Carlion a bit late, a few tasks delaying him which also caused him to miss a number of events and the gifting, much to the young knight's disappointment. He has on the usual casual wear for a knight on the road instead of court, leather jacket worn over a shirt and trousers. The most notable is the sword sheathed at his hip, no doubt identifying him as a knight.

Stepping in from the outside as well, Martyn makes his way a bit slowly. Stopping just inside the room, the Baverstock knight looks around very quickly, then begins making is way further into the room, moving in the general direction of the bar. There's a brief nod to the Laverstock that entered just before him.

Amalthea glances up from her reading, the furrow in her brow seamlessly tranforming into the creases of a smile. "Minstrel! I had not thought to see you here so early. You are ever welcome at my table, which I have come to all of one piece, you might note," the lady offers, laughter at her own expense dancing in her tarnished-gold eyes. "No distractions save my book, and less of a distraction than I might wish it was at that. How do you fare today?" Her eyes skip over the new entries to the tavern one by one, but only register recognition at the latter, who receives a lifted hand in greeting and an unsure smile.

Something with a absolutely no froth on top is delivered in a tankard and Isyld takes it, dropping the appropriate coins on the scarred bartop before she collects it and turns to observe the other entrants. Intelligent dark eyes observe the others, a smile flitting over her lips to the other occupants entering after her. The conversation from the table though does capture her attention and she offers the lady and minstrel a curious look. Standing still, she commits to no particular seat though she does bring her attention back to the Laverstock and a dip of her head is offered the obvious knight.

"Ah, you read?" Iolo asks, brow coming up just a bit, "What does the book say?" he asks, signaling down one of the wenches as he chats with the horse lady. "And, should you get bored of the distractions of it, I'm certain we can find something else to keep your mind occupied!" he then adds, as the wench comes by to take his order. "An ale please."

Elrick's gaze sweeps the interior mostly to note the others that are currently present, taking note of the minstrel that Amalthea calls to, seeing that it tonight could be a pleasant night at this tavern as it may include music. As he begins to make his way towards where the barkeep is, the Laverstock's eyes shifts to the other man that has just entered, not really taking note of the colors on Martyn's outfit but acknowledges the nod with his own. Then, as Elrick approaches the bar, he bows his head respectfully to Isyld and her younger companion, "Ladies." Then finally to the barkeep, "Ale for me as well my good man!"

Looking around once more, Martyn notices the lifted hand and the smile from Amalthea, offering the same in return. Pausing at the bar, he orders himself some ale as well, "Ladies, Sir," he greets those at the bar already.

"I read a bit, and Latin only," Amalthea replies, thumbing at the open parchment absently. "This tome is a treatise on the proper care and selection of horse flesh." Because of course it is. And even if it wasn't, he probably wouldn't know, right? "It was my father's, and he taught me the rudimentary basics." The flirting flies far over her head, and she offers, "I hope you did not find last night too dreary? I had hoped we would have a deeper conversation before I had to leave."

"It was just fine, Amalthea." Iolo replies to the woman, giving a smile, "It must be a valuable tome, though I imagine much of it you've already learned from experience.. still, if you find value in it, there is value in it." He says with a nod of his head, "And last night was fine, though if you would like to make up for time lost last night, there is always now!"

The young girl at her side murmurs something to the Lady and Isyld flashes her a smile, "Yes, please, Evae, prepare my armor and practice weapons for the challenges today, I want to get a few in if I can since I was late in arriving." The squire immediately nod and heads out to do the bidding. Lifting her ale, she takes a sip before looking back at Elrick. "Are you participating in the tournament events?" It's a good a start as any for conversation. A nod to Martyn as he orders an ale as well. "Sir," she greets.

Hearing that Isyld will be preparing for today's challenges, Elrick's brow arches a for a moment though a smile appears as he seems pleased that he has met another fellow knight and potential opponent, "Yes, I am planning to. I have also arrived late to Carlion but I have sent word of my arrival and registration for the events." He then bows his head respectfully as he makes introductions to both Isyld and Martyn, "I am Sir Elrick de Laverstock, brother to Sir Lainn and sir Arian."

Bronwen arrives, for once without the frequent escort of one of her many brothers, although few would blame them for keeping a close watch over a young lady amidst such a crowd as the wedding tournament has attracted. With the typical spring in her step, she flits into the busy tavern, pausing at first to look around for a spare table, or in the process perhaps anyone she might know.

Martyn smiles, nodding a little as he hears the introduction. "Ser Martyn de Baverstock," he introduces himself. Glancing around the room once more, then back to the others at the bar. "So, you're participating in the challenges, then?"

"Would you care to take a table?" The offer made both to Elrick and Martyn, Isyld indicates something more away from the bar and nearer the other two figures of Amalthea and Iolo. "I am Sir Isyld de Chalke." Siblings names aren't on offer from the knight though, a nod to Elrick at the mention of his own, neither one of which she immediately recognizes. "Have you all traveled then to participate in the tournament events? Which of them are you entering yourself? The personal challenges?" Eyes alight with interest, she looks between them, "We could finish our ales and go out to the tournament grounds for soem challenges?" Sort of vetoing the offer of the table earlier.

"Would you care to take a table?" The offer made both to Elrick and Martyn, Isyld indicates something more away from the bar and nearer the other two figures of Amalthea and Iolo. "I am Sir Isyld de Chalke." Siblings names aren't on offer from the knight though, a nod to Elrick at the mention of his own, neither one of which she immediately recognizes. "Have you all traveled then to participate in the tournament events? Which of them are you entering yourself? The personal challenges?" Eyes alight with interest, she looks between them, "We could finish our ales and go out to the tournament grounds for some challenges?" Sort of vetoing the offer of the table earlier. (reposes)

Amalthea sits at a table close to the firepit, chatting with Iolo. There is a small tome of parchment in front of the brunette, and a glass of wine, though she's more focused on the conversation than the accountrements. "Now is all the time we have, right?" the stablemaster quips merrily. "I'd gladly hold such conversation but it almost inevitably turns to the future and goals therein. Do you have a lifelong dream, Iolo?"

The door to the tavern might as well be revolving at this point, considering the number of bodies that shuffle to and fro. One of those aforementioned bodies is that of Heulwen who squeezes past an already inebriated patron to pass through the door into the common room. She pauses, lingering near the wall while her eyes adjust to the change in light. Her brown cloak is thrown haphazardly over her arm and tucked into the crook of her elbow, and she uses her free hand to smooth her hair out of its windblown disarray.

Wide, brown eyes sweep over the occupants, lighting here and there on a familiar face to which she unlikely has a name. There is one, however - dear Amalthea, seated closer to the fire and in apparent conversation with…someone. Wen squints briefly but approaches the table nonethless. "Cousin!" she calls out in greeting, which no doubt will cause several heads to turn, and so she clarifies this with: "Thea!"

"Perhaps now is infact all the time we have, though who can say what our future offers us, Amalthea." Iolo says with a smile at the woman, "I suppose at some point, I would like to compose a great epic tale, but for now I am content experiencing everything the world has to offer! What about you? Do you wish to breed the greatest of all horses, perhaps?"

Bronwen is still near enough the door that when Heulwen arrives, she's not progressed far. And so when she starts shouting for her cousin, it does draw the other woman's attention over, toward a table full of more recognizable people. Exactly what she was looking for. Which means that she will follow a few steps behind Heulwen and offer, "Lady Amalthea, hello. Oh, and the good minstrel!" Its entirely possible she doesn't recall his name. She will spare a glance over at Heulwen too, working out the relationship. "This is another of your cousins? So many Dintons! Is it a gathering? Is Lysanor around as well?"

When the barkeep finishes pouring Elrick his tankard of ale, thanks and coin was given and the cup was raised to his lips for a quick sip to wet his parched tongue. As more introdutions are made, the Laverstock Knight nods his head to Martyn and then Isyld, "Well met, Sir Martyn, Sir Isyld." As for their questions on the events, his grin widens, "All three of the main events, the joust, personal challenges, and the grand melee." As for the choice of table or tourney grounds, Elrick gives it a thought, "If you wish to move to the grounds, I will need a little bit of time to gather my kit and prepare."
At the moment, Elrick, Isyld, and Martyn are situated near the bar area where they are getting their drinks.

Revolving door indeed. Well, that would be a bit above the tech level, but the principle surely seems to apply! Cyndeyrn enters not many steps behind his cousin, and might well call to catch her, but she goes rushing toward the table with another one of his relations. Not being one for shouting himself, he stalks afteward, perhaps following Bronwen inadvertently as well. And while he does not strive to make his presence known, the long shadow of the Dinton heir is not easily missed for long. "Cousins," he will offer when he arrives a bit nearer. And then hearing someone else asking about Lysanor, though only seeing the woman by the back so far and not quite recognizing her, he looks around. "I do not think so, lady… ah?"

Martyn nods a little as he hears that, "Only the joust and the challenges for me." A brief pause, before he adds, "Joust's mostly… I don't know… Relaxation? The challenges is where I want to test myself the most, though." Another brief pause as he looks around, "I hope the two of you will excuse me for a few moments. There's someone over there I need to speak with."

Amalthea is about to respond to Iolo with what might have been her hopes and dreams, but then there are cousins! "Dear Heulwen! Oh! And lady Bronwen! OH! Cyndeyrn!" It's a littany of names and Amalthea's smile grows bright with each one. "What a happy coincidence! This is the minstrel Iolo. Cyndeyrn, you remember, he officiated the horse race?" she supplies helpfully. "Lady Bronwen is a dear friend of Lysanor's, and of course you know Heulwen." Because, cousins. "Join us?"

Iolo inclines his head to the nobles, "Sir Knight, Ladies." He says, "A pleasure to see you again, and to meet you as well, Heulwen." he inclines his head Bronwen's way, "Lady Bronwen has quite the voice, if you get a chance, I highly recommend you persuade her to sing for you!"

"Indeed, well met Sir Martyn, Sir Elrick." Isyld leaves the greetings without the surnames as well. Her drink is lifted, a sip taken and despite it not being exactly to her liking, she manages to not make too much of a face. "I entered the personal challenges and still considering the grand melee. Not real certain about it yet, depending on what I have planned otherwise. I missed the wedding completely." The reasoning for it isn't mentioned, but she glances towards the door as more come in and a couple of people leave. The taller of the Dinton's is noticed, but she doesn't recognize him or those around him as he walks to the table. Looking back to Elrick, her lips quirk into a half smile. "I can't exactly challenge in this dress, but I've sent my squire Evae ahead to prepare my things. We could meet on the tournament field if you like?" A nod to Martyn, "Feel free to join us as well."

Bronwen might well be swallowed by the shadow of the big knight behind her, and reflexively glances back as he starts to say hello. So even as Amalthea is introducing everyone, she interrupts, "-Sir Cyndeyrn! Oh yes," and she looks back toward Amalthea. "We have met! We were paired for hawking and, ah, most embarrassingly, I had some trouble with my bird, but your good cousin was MOST chivalrous, aiding me in recovering it." She turns again and beams a bright smile up, up, up! at the knight behind her before again looking to the others, almost over-excited by the selection of people. Though Heulwen she doesn't know, so she dips a quick curtsey there. "Well met. I would be most happy to join you all."

"I do recall the minstrel, yes. Good day," Cyndeyrn echoes after his cousin, giving a small nod toward the bard. "That was all a good bit of fun, the race." His quieter composure is quite disrupted by Bronwen's seeming excitability though, and he looks nearly embarassed by the sudden praise. "Ah, well, it was my pleasure. It is a knight's duty to aid a damsel in need." If he might say more, especially to Iolo's praise of the young lady's voice, he thinks better of it and just quietly maneuvers to find a place with the others.

With the plan offered, Elrick takes another long sip of his ale before nodding his head in agreement to what Isyld suggests, "I am in agreement, Sir Isyld, since we arrived here late, we will have to do what we must to catch up. In the challenges and this as well." He says as he lifts his mug of ale, the amused smirk apparent as he is enjoying the ale that they serve in this particular tavern. As for what Martyn says, the Laverstock Knight reaffirms, "I too am looking forward to testing myself." A nod is offered once more when the other knight excuses himself.

"Ahh, a pleasure," Heulwen replies quietly, glancing between Amalthea and Iolo. The rest of her greetings are stymied by other arrivals, and she blinks in surprise at being followed up both by Bronwen and Cyndeyrn. As the gathering grows, more does Wen start to edge her way backward to stand behind Thea's chair, if only so she's not right in the thick of things. She casts Cynd a brief smile in greeting, and then decides better of it and sidles more in his direction while also trying desperately not to step on toes. Her own expression is mingled amusement and exasperation, and she squints at Cyndeyrn during the announcement of gentlemanly heroics. "Indeed, m'lord, and how was the falconry? I regret I missed it."

"Then we should finish our ales and meet at the tournament grounds." Isyld tilts her head back, taking a long drink of the ale, finishing with a shiver of distaste. "I should stick to wine," she gives a self-depreciating smile. Leaving the tankard on the bartop, she lifts the hem of her dress, "I must go and change and meet you there?" An impulsive smile is given, warm and friendly. "I look forward to crossing blades with you."

Bronwen is small, so she will make what effort might be required to scoot in and find a spot around the gathering that doesn't inconvenience any of the others. "I quite enjoyed the outing," she'll answer Heulwen, even if the question might have been more to Cyndeyrn. "Even though I did poorly. It was just good fun riding about, and I was able to meet and speak with a number of visiting knights in the process." It would figure that she would be popular with them! She does then also glance over at one of the nearby table, where more tournament business is being discussed. "Will you be fighting any more today, Sir Cyndeyrn?"

Wrinkling his nose slightly, Elrick shakes his head, "Wine is fine for more… formal events. Ale? You can drink more of it and it's more fun." At least in taverns from the Laverstock's experience. As for the challenge soon, the Laverstock Knight raises his own tankard towards Isyld as if to salute her, "Aye. Once I polish off this ale, I will go make the proper preparations myself. See you on the field shortly."

Amalthea waits for everyone else to settle, looking fretful to the door. "Cyndeyrn… did you stable your horse?" She fidgets a little and then can't take it any longer. Up the stablemaster gets, scooping her tome into one hand. "I should go check, just in case." Because nobody does it better! Nobody! There's a dip of her chestnut head to all gathered. "I shall be back in a trice!"

"It was… ah, as the good lady says, it was an enjoyable outing," Cyndeyrn answers his cousin. "There was definitely a competitive feel to it all, however, in contrast to the usually more sociable atmosphere. I am not really an expert in the sport, in any event, so I do not expect to progress in the next round. The joust will be more interesting." Amalthea's sudden inquiry then causes him to blink. "Ah, I am sure the horses are all well-" But then again, there's no arguing with her when it comes to the well-being of the animals. "I suppose I should make myself available for some personal combat," he goes on to answer Bronwen. "Although I find those matches somewhat dull as well, as they are overly formal. I am looking forward to the melee."

Having finished his ale, while speaking with that person he needed to speak with, Martyn looks around. Seeing some of the people are heading off to get ready for some of those challenges, he starts for the door as well, steps a bit slow for now.

From the bar area, where she is standing nearby Martyn and Elrick, Isyld bobs her head in agreement, "I suppose so, I have no developed a liking yet for ale. It's an acquired taste or so I'm told. Wine at least has less bitterness and more sweetness, when I can keep people from diluting it for me." Amused, she gives another look to her tankard but doesn't reach to finish it off. "I shall meet you there then, Sir Elrick. Sir Martyn." Including the both of them in her address, but heading off from the bar and coming up behind the Baverstock as she does so.

Heulwen smiles politely and folds her hands in front of her, glancing down to them as the conversation shifts from talk of the previous contests to the upcoming melee. "It seems most people are quite excited for the melee. I find the fervor contagious, and am almost looking forward to it myself." And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the extent of her interest in mock combat. She clears her throat quietly and looks around, gazing curiously at the other patrons as they converse and drink and make merry among themselves. "Perhaps I shall go lend a hand to Thea, please excuse me." With a brief dip of a curtsey, she separates herself from the group and makes for the door.

Bronwen clasps her hands together and bobs her head in quick agreement. "Oh yes, I do think it all sounds very exciting." But soon Heulwen is excusing herself as well, and the young woman looks slightly crestfallen, the gathering seemingly breaking up as quickly as it started. "Be well, both of you!" she will call after both the pair on their way out, and then suggest, "Perhaps you would care to go join the other knights that are headed off then? I will even come and cheer for you, Sir Cyndeyrn."

Cyndeyrn notices the quick exodus of course, but given that most are family, he seems unworried by it. "Do not fret, Amalthea is always very over-cautious with the horses." Bronwen's suggestion will cause him to glance over to where some of the other knights were discussing things, and then nod. "I suppose I ought see that Dinton is represented." Though, there is something about her offer to cheer that gives him pause. "Well, ah, there is… Ah in any case, I will go and prepare, and see you there, if you intend to watch, my lady?"

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