The city was abuzz with excitement, perhaps moreso than any other tourney that Marceline could remember had. Of course, this was also the first time in recent memory that the reigning Emperor was actually a chevalier himself. That, along with Orlais finally being at peace with itself had a noticeable effect on the proceedings. Even Michaël had a hop in his step, though his excitement came from more than one source. She leaned into him as they walked the white cobbled streets of the city. They, being them and the rest of the Inquisition, had arrived in Val Royeaux recently. The Inquisition obviously had garnered an invitation from the Emperor-- though the plans that they had in mind overstepped simple invitations.
The thought must have made its way onto her face, because Michaël noticed and placed a sturdy hand in the small of her back. It will be fine, the smile on his lips told her, and she was inclined to believe him. There was a lot that could go wrong, but he had faith, and she had faith in him. She returned his smile and wordlessly accepted that everything would turn out for the better. If not soon, then later. Change always took time, after all.
The tourney's events were planned to be held at a variety of locations across the city, but the main locus of activity was to be the proving grounds, an arena located deep within Val Royeaux. As she understood it, most of the area surrounding the arena was cleared to allow for the contestants to set up their tents and to provide safe storage.
Perhaps understandably, Khari was having some difficulty containing her enthusiasm. She drank in the sights like they were water, eyes unable to remain on any one thing for too long. Even the parts of Val Royeaux that were not directly involved with anything to do with the Tourney were decorated for it, bright banners and streamers advertising anything and everything that could possibly be related to the event or the influx of visitors it welcomed.
As they drew near the arena itself, her focus narrowed quite obviously to the array of canvas tents, many of them brightly-colored or striped according to the owner's lineage or allegiance. Even the well-armed Inquisition blended here, among the knights and their auxiliaries. Horses were stabled at one end of the large field about the arena, necessary as they were for the jousting portion of the Tourney.
The advance group the Inquisition had sent ahead had already prepared what would be their tent, though it lacked the obvious russet and gold, since the point was that no one was meant to identify a competitor with their organization. They'd have to see to their disguises before entering it; before they did, though, more private lodging had been arranged at the palace itself. Still, Khari had wanted the lay of the land before anything, and she studied it now with eagerness tempered by what was clearly only fully hitting her now: the sheer scale of it all.
“Somehow, this is a lot more people than I was expecting."
"Almost overwhelming, isn't it?" Leon settled a large hand on her shoulder and squeezed, probably in a way that was meant to reassure her. "It won't matter when you're in the ring, though. Then they'll all just be noise."
He let his hand drop away and addressed the group at large. "Why don't we go assume our disguises and get set up? Meet back here in an hour?" Naturally, a few of them had additional formalities to see to, Marceline among them, that would require the extra time. But it would be equally important that their competitor be allowed time to acclimate to her new surroundings before the contests began in earnest tomorrow.
Since Marceline and Michaël were sponsors of their particular contestant, they could forgo donning disguises. Instead, their time was spent handling more official business, registering and securing official lodgings. Fortunately for them, they had all of their documents and paperwork in order, and the process was relatively painless-- minus the fact that some of the papers were suspect. Eventually all the papers were signed and they were free to leave the palace and return to their tent at the proving ground.
An hour after they'd parted, the group rejoined at the same spot, this time able to head with confidence towards the tent set up for them. The custom of mask-wearing, and the tendency for masks to be so characteristic, worked in their favor, since for the humans among them at least going unrecognized was just a matter of wearing different ones than they otherwise would have. As part of Khari's false paperwork and history, Marceline had tied her to a loose edge of Michäel's family tree, distant cousins with the surname Gérin. Given their obscurity, it wasn't at all difficult to conjure the necessary papers for a hitherto-unknown Katriane Gérin.
The Academie credentials were harder, but as long as no one looked too closely, they'd hold. They only needed to serve for the length of the Tourney, in any case. The family's masks traditionally resembled wolves, and the slate grey and gold of their colors wasn't too difficult to replicate, either, so the disguises carried the themes appropriately.
Khari herself would have to remain helmed at all times, given the vallaslin and her ears both. The t-shaped opening in her helmet allowed her to speak mostly clearly, at least. The rest of her armor was plain, taken from Inquisition stock since at least a few of the people in attendance here knew her trademark appearance quite well. The cloak must have been from elsewhere—green and gold, and made well enough to belong to wealthier nobility than she was really meant to portray.
“Okay, so. We're here. That's our tent. This is really happening." She paused. “This is really happening, right? Because it feels kind of like I'm dreaming, I've gotta say."
"Somehow I imagine Romulus looks a little more dashing in your dreams." The comment came from Vesryn, walking at the side of the group. He had the luxury of going without anything concealing his face, though he'd still altered his appearance. His normally loose hair was bound up behind him and actually braided to his head on the sides. It had a dramatic effect on his recognizability, not to mention the drab mercenary's gear he wore. It seemed unlikely anyone would pick him out as the self-proclaimed champion of the Inquisition.
"Go easy on the names," the Inquisitor advised, from Khari's side. If he had any reaction to Vesryn's jab, it was concealed by his mask, along with the rest of his face. Unlike Vesryn, Romulus was very recognizable, with facial markings of his own, and an image that had been replicated across most of Thedas by now. His role in the competition would be done in a full face mask and helmet, and his gear had been altered to also assume the mercenary look, with particular care being given to conceal his marked hand.
"I think everyone looks wonderful, for what it's worth." Their smallest elven ally behind them, Brand, looked like he was just happy to be along, but his skills with information and crowded places were bound to be valuable. He was practically invisible without any disguise at all. "A perfect... dignified shabbiness. A scrappy underdog."
"Well, this scrappy underdog thinks we should probably have this talk in our tent," Estella put in, smiling slightly underneath the half-face mask she wore. Simpler than Khari's, as she too was meant to be a mercenary here, and no Argent Lion at that. Like Romulus, she wore a heavy leather glove over her marked hand, hers without fingers.
Leon lifted the flap first, stepping inside the generically-appointed canvas shelter. "There are basic wards against sound escaping and such," he warned, "but any more than that and people might have thought we had a bit too much to hide, so do still be careful with what you say. A good eavesdropper would be able to find a way around them." He glanced once at Brand as he said it, then shrugged.
"But since this is probably the last time we'll all be in one place for a while, I think we should nail down the details of this plan. The first event on your docket is the joust, and the day after is the team round. Then you'll have a day to recover before the melee. It's a long time to maintain a cover in a situation like this, so we'll all need to stay alert and careful."
"You need not worry on our end, Michaël and I will divert any questions regarding you away," Marceline answered. She could spin a tale well enough to satisfy anyone's curiousity without delving into too many details. If not, well, then she would just have to avoid some of the more inquisitive types.
Michaël chuckled, undoubtedly already imagining her talking at length about nothing in particular. "Do not let it take up all of your focus though," he added, "I'd hate for you to catch something in the jaw because you were to busy worrying if someone saw your ears," he said with a grin.
Khari nodded as much as the helm would allow. “It's not really that part I'm worried about." She didn't elaborate though, instead walking the length of the tent once, eyes cast down at her boots. “There's still some things to decide, aren't there? I know we brought my horse down from Skyhold, but there's supposed to be someone around when I'm actually jousting, right? To help with the lances and stuff?" She pursed her lips. “And what do we know about the team round scenario? Anything? Who are the people to watch for, anyway? People set books and odds for this stuff, don't they?"
It was quite a lot of questions at once. Leon took it upon himself to tackle them.
"Such an arrangement is normal in the joust, yes. If you don't mind, I'd... like to handle that myself." His voice sounded just a bit thicker than usual, but it was subtle. He didn't elaborate on it.
Whatever caused it, Khari picked up on it, her pacing coming to a hard halt. She swallowed audibly, nodding in several quick, shallow motions.
“Yeah. Yeah, of course. Wouldn't want anybody else." The moment stretched for a heartbeat too long, until she forced herself to start moving again and the atmosphere settled.
The other items in the list were somewhat easier to tick off. "The team scenario won't be known in any detail until you're thrown into it. But I double-checked, and your team does have the right number of people. I should point out that magic is not expressly forbidden, though it tends to be frowned upon, and anything trademark or particularly unique should be avoided for the obvious reasons. You've also been appointed a healer for the duration, to ensure that magic worked upon you in that capacity doesn't give you an unfair advantage. But you should... take care not to injure yourself if possible."
There were a lot of reasons for that, obviously, but unfortunately the integrity of the disguise was one of them.
"As to favorites... only one of them is familiar to you—and not in a good way, unfortunately."
Khari clearly struggled for a moment to think of a chevalier she both knew and didn't like. The answer hit her like a wall; behind the helm, her mouth twisted into a scowl. “You're fucking kidding me. Him? Really? All the chevaliers in Orlais, and it really has to be Blancheflor?"
Vesryn laughed, obviously not as bothered as Khari was. "Maybe stick to the weapons when you're beating him. He's most likely to recognize you if you punch him, right?"
“Actually it was a headbutt." Khari paused, assessed the statement, and then sighed.
“But point taken."
A in no way contained grin plastered Michaël's face. "I'd say it gives you an edge, you've already drawn first blood," he noted with an accompanying chuckle.
"Welp, shall we get to some last minute prep?" He asked, cracking his knuckles.
The thought must have made its way onto her face, because Michaël noticed and placed a sturdy hand in the small of her back. It will be fine, the smile on his lips told her, and she was inclined to believe him. There was a lot that could go wrong, but he had faith, and she had faith in him. She returned his smile and wordlessly accepted that everything would turn out for the better. If not soon, then later. Change always took time, after all.
The tourney's events were planned to be held at a variety of locations across the city, but the main locus of activity was to be the proving grounds, an arena located deep within Val Royeaux. As she understood it, most of the area surrounding the arena was cleared to allow for the contestants to set up their tents and to provide safe storage.
Perhaps understandably, Khari was having some difficulty containing her enthusiasm. She drank in the sights like they were water, eyes unable to remain on any one thing for too long. Even the parts of Val Royeaux that were not directly involved with anything to do with the Tourney were decorated for it, bright banners and streamers advertising anything and everything that could possibly be related to the event or the influx of visitors it welcomed.
As they drew near the arena itself, her focus narrowed quite obviously to the array of canvas tents, many of them brightly-colored or striped according to the owner's lineage or allegiance. Even the well-armed Inquisition blended here, among the knights and their auxiliaries. Horses were stabled at one end of the large field about the arena, necessary as they were for the jousting portion of the Tourney.
The advance group the Inquisition had sent ahead had already prepared what would be their tent, though it lacked the obvious russet and gold, since the point was that no one was meant to identify a competitor with their organization. They'd have to see to their disguises before entering it; before they did, though, more private lodging had been arranged at the palace itself. Still, Khari had wanted the lay of the land before anything, and she studied it now with eagerness tempered by what was clearly only fully hitting her now: the sheer scale of it all.
“Somehow, this is a lot more people than I was expecting."
"Almost overwhelming, isn't it?" Leon settled a large hand on her shoulder and squeezed, probably in a way that was meant to reassure her. "It won't matter when you're in the ring, though. Then they'll all just be noise."
He let his hand drop away and addressed the group at large. "Why don't we go assume our disguises and get set up? Meet back here in an hour?" Naturally, a few of them had additional formalities to see to, Marceline among them, that would require the extra time. But it would be equally important that their competitor be allowed time to acclimate to her new surroundings before the contests began in earnest tomorrow.
Since Marceline and Michaël were sponsors of their particular contestant, they could forgo donning disguises. Instead, their time was spent handling more official business, registering and securing official lodgings. Fortunately for them, they had all of their documents and paperwork in order, and the process was relatively painless-- minus the fact that some of the papers were suspect. Eventually all the papers were signed and they were free to leave the palace and return to their tent at the proving ground.
An hour after they'd parted, the group rejoined at the same spot, this time able to head with confidence towards the tent set up for them. The custom of mask-wearing, and the tendency for masks to be so characteristic, worked in their favor, since for the humans among them at least going unrecognized was just a matter of wearing different ones than they otherwise would have. As part of Khari's false paperwork and history, Marceline had tied her to a loose edge of Michäel's family tree, distant cousins with the surname Gérin. Given their obscurity, it wasn't at all difficult to conjure the necessary papers for a hitherto-unknown Katriane Gérin.
The Academie credentials were harder, but as long as no one looked too closely, they'd hold. They only needed to serve for the length of the Tourney, in any case. The family's masks traditionally resembled wolves, and the slate grey and gold of their colors wasn't too difficult to replicate, either, so the disguises carried the themes appropriately.
Khari herself would have to remain helmed at all times, given the vallaslin and her ears both. The t-shaped opening in her helmet allowed her to speak mostly clearly, at least. The rest of her armor was plain, taken from Inquisition stock since at least a few of the people in attendance here knew her trademark appearance quite well. The cloak must have been from elsewhere—green and gold, and made well enough to belong to wealthier nobility than she was really meant to portray.
“Okay, so. We're here. That's our tent. This is really happening." She paused. “This is really happening, right? Because it feels kind of like I'm dreaming, I've gotta say."
"Somehow I imagine Romulus looks a little more dashing in your dreams." The comment came from Vesryn, walking at the side of the group. He had the luxury of going without anything concealing his face, though he'd still altered his appearance. His normally loose hair was bound up behind him and actually braided to his head on the sides. It had a dramatic effect on his recognizability, not to mention the drab mercenary's gear he wore. It seemed unlikely anyone would pick him out as the self-proclaimed champion of the Inquisition.
"Go easy on the names," the Inquisitor advised, from Khari's side. If he had any reaction to Vesryn's jab, it was concealed by his mask, along with the rest of his face. Unlike Vesryn, Romulus was very recognizable, with facial markings of his own, and an image that had been replicated across most of Thedas by now. His role in the competition would be done in a full face mask and helmet, and his gear had been altered to also assume the mercenary look, with particular care being given to conceal his marked hand.
"I think everyone looks wonderful, for what it's worth." Their smallest elven ally behind them, Brand, looked like he was just happy to be along, but his skills with information and crowded places were bound to be valuable. He was practically invisible without any disguise at all. "A perfect... dignified shabbiness. A scrappy underdog."
"Well, this scrappy underdog thinks we should probably have this talk in our tent," Estella put in, smiling slightly underneath the half-face mask she wore. Simpler than Khari's, as she too was meant to be a mercenary here, and no Argent Lion at that. Like Romulus, she wore a heavy leather glove over her marked hand, hers without fingers.
Leon lifted the flap first, stepping inside the generically-appointed canvas shelter. "There are basic wards against sound escaping and such," he warned, "but any more than that and people might have thought we had a bit too much to hide, so do still be careful with what you say. A good eavesdropper would be able to find a way around them." He glanced once at Brand as he said it, then shrugged.
"But since this is probably the last time we'll all be in one place for a while, I think we should nail down the details of this plan. The first event on your docket is the joust, and the day after is the team round. Then you'll have a day to recover before the melee. It's a long time to maintain a cover in a situation like this, so we'll all need to stay alert and careful."
"You need not worry on our end, Michaël and I will divert any questions regarding you away," Marceline answered. She could spin a tale well enough to satisfy anyone's curiousity without delving into too many details. If not, well, then she would just have to avoid some of the more inquisitive types.
Michaël chuckled, undoubtedly already imagining her talking at length about nothing in particular. "Do not let it take up all of your focus though," he added, "I'd hate for you to catch something in the jaw because you were to busy worrying if someone saw your ears," he said with a grin.
Khari nodded as much as the helm would allow. “It's not really that part I'm worried about." She didn't elaborate though, instead walking the length of the tent once, eyes cast down at her boots. “There's still some things to decide, aren't there? I know we brought my horse down from Skyhold, but there's supposed to be someone around when I'm actually jousting, right? To help with the lances and stuff?" She pursed her lips. “And what do we know about the team round scenario? Anything? Who are the people to watch for, anyway? People set books and odds for this stuff, don't they?"
It was quite a lot of questions at once. Leon took it upon himself to tackle them.
"Such an arrangement is normal in the joust, yes. If you don't mind, I'd... like to handle that myself." His voice sounded just a bit thicker than usual, but it was subtle. He didn't elaborate on it.
Whatever caused it, Khari picked up on it, her pacing coming to a hard halt. She swallowed audibly, nodding in several quick, shallow motions.
“Yeah. Yeah, of course. Wouldn't want anybody else." The moment stretched for a heartbeat too long, until she forced herself to start moving again and the atmosphere settled.
The other items in the list were somewhat easier to tick off. "The team scenario won't be known in any detail until you're thrown into it. But I double-checked, and your team does have the right number of people. I should point out that magic is not expressly forbidden, though it tends to be frowned upon, and anything trademark or particularly unique should be avoided for the obvious reasons. You've also been appointed a healer for the duration, to ensure that magic worked upon you in that capacity doesn't give you an unfair advantage. But you should... take care not to injure yourself if possible."
There were a lot of reasons for that, obviously, but unfortunately the integrity of the disguise was one of them.
"As to favorites... only one of them is familiar to you—and not in a good way, unfortunately."
Khari clearly struggled for a moment to think of a chevalier she both knew and didn't like. The answer hit her like a wall; behind the helm, her mouth twisted into a scowl. “You're fucking kidding me. Him? Really? All the chevaliers in Orlais, and it really has to be Blancheflor?"
Vesryn laughed, obviously not as bothered as Khari was. "Maybe stick to the weapons when you're beating him. He's most likely to recognize you if you punch him, right?"
“Actually it was a headbutt." Khari paused, assessed the statement, and then sighed.
“But point taken."
A in no way contained grin plastered Michaël's face. "I'd say it gives you an edge, you've already drawn first blood," he noted with an accompanying chuckle.
"Welp, shall we get to some last minute prep?" He asked, cracking his knuckles.