(1310-09-08) Marsilikos Tournament: La Grande Mêlee
Summary: The grand melee contest of the tournament.
RL Date: Sat Sep 08, 2018
Related: Marsilikos Tournament
ailene aisan antoine augustin belmont desarae eneas fenris gemma gwenaelle helisson isabelle matthieu narcisse olivia thibault 

Tournament Field — Eisandine Countryside

The wind billows pennants and banners as far as the eye can see, here. The terrain is generally flat, with some signs that areas of the plain might have been built up to help flatten it — one corner in particular overlooks a steep downward hill. The plain is partitioned off by fences into walkways and competition grounds, and in the middle of each set of fences feet have long worn away the grass, leaving the centers of each area naught but earth and dust, all the better not to accidentally trod in a hole and break oneself.

On the western edge of the field a huge mass of stands has been erected out of fresh beams of wood, all redolent of pine and of cedar, nailed in place with giant iron stakes and sturdy enough to stand firm below the mass of humanity which moves onto and off of it every day during the tournament competitions. Opposite the stands are the brightly colored pavilia, each with its banner waving overhead, where the competitors of each family might store equipment, rest and prepare. In the middle of the pavilia is a raised stand where the Duchesse, her family, and invited VIPs may sit under a canopy of their own and watch the games from closer to the action.

The day has come for one of the most spectacular events that can happen during a tournament. La Grande Melee. A mock battle upon the tourney field, with people hacking and slashing at each other in a wild frenzy! A good thing it is, that edges of the weapons are blunted. But. Even if there may not be a bloodbath, there shall be bruises aplenty to remind those that have taken part in this craziness, for the next days, for sure! A number of combatants have gathered on the field, preparing themselves mentally for this martial game. A game where there are little rules. Chaos, compared to the structured order of a duel contest.

Spectators have come, noble and common, a Duchesse and her ladies watching from the Ducal Box, more ladies on the benches, elderly lords that rather watch than get bruised. And down by the stands, the crowd of commoners that relish in anticipation of the spectacle. Cheering. Chanting. While the men and women on the field make final re-adjustments to their light armor of partial maile.

Ailene enterers the Tournament Grounds today, on the arm of her cousin, Lord Narcisse Tevalion. Behind them, ever watchful and ever perceptive, is her handsome, faithful guard, Cyrille. "It is such a shame Auggie wasn't able to compete today." Ailene muses to her cousin as they walk in. "I was really looking forward to him reclaiming the glory of the Trevalion name." However, she doesn't appear too shook up about her brother not being there. In fact, she has a little dimples smile upon her face and her cheeks are rosy. She scans the field, as though searching for someone, sighs quietly, dreamily. As they near the stands, she smiles and curtsies to her aunt, The Duchesse, then goes to find a seat as close as she can get. "Of course, I still have someone to cheer for." she tells her cousin with a wink, followed by a girlish giggle and a blush.

Aisan has fortunately recovered from the other part of the tournament. He is still stitched up from where his helmet got dented onto his head by Lord Foulque but the helmet has been repaired and is no longer dented at least! Walking over through the tournament grounds to the grand melee ring, square, pit, however it is going to be done Aisan offers polite nods and bows of his head to those he knows. This time, he does not have a favor to support him though. Nothing tied around his wrists.

Desarae has arrived with in the company of Ducal Entourage, the young Mereliot heiress lost in deep conversation with one of the ladies-in-waiting engaged by her aunt. She settles herself on one of the privileged benches beneath the canopy of Mereliot colors, her cassiline a quiet presence a pace or so behind. Her gown of choice today is one of deepest copper and she settles her hands in her lap, spine straight and shoulders down, prepared for the excitement that the event will surely provide.

Helisson is back for more, not having had the snot sufficiently smacked out of her in the duelling event. She seems almost… happy, she's grinning, her dull red eyes are almost looking alive as she goes through some practice figures on the side of the field, getting the feel of the blunted blade she's been alloted for the event, its weight and balance, wielding it with her whole body, moving at the knees and kicking up dust as she turns into an imaginary parry.

Augustin is here. Once again patiently waiting for the combat to start, his sword slung easily by his side.

Having decided to take part in this event, Antoine makes his way out onto the field, smiling as he studies the people present, glancing around for a few moments, then to the stands. "Such a good day for an event such as this, hmmm?" he remarks to nobody in particular.

Gwenaelle stands off to the side close to the tent that has been erected for the healers, empty cots awaiting those with injuries that may need to be taken care of. She studies the groups of men who may be standing about, waiting to take part in the grand melee, perhaps searching for those she might recognize.

Narcisse escorts his cousin indeed once more to the tournament field, being dressed as elegant as ever in black and white silk. At her words, he shrugs his shoulders ever so slightly "I heard my brother is competing as well so we at least have someone to cheer for still.." And then Augustin shows up indeed and he can't help a little smirk towards Ailene "Didn't you say he couldn't make it?"

Augustin snuck in.

Ailene sits and folds her hands in her lap, giving Desarare a big smile and a founce of her hair to show off the pretty blue ribbon that sparkles in the sun. She looks extremely happy. That is, until she looks towards the grounds again. "Oh my goodness!" she exclaims, looking to Sissy in panic. "There's Auggie!" She looks at her brother, then looks out over the field, searching….Gulp. "Sissy…can a girl favour /two/ champions?" she asks him, eyes wide.

Eneas finally found his way to the tournament field. Duels. Pfft. Who needs those? Part time for peacocks and horned Caerdicci husbands. Ahem. Decked out in proper armor for a change, he — too — is giving the blunted blade a few practice swings, before it is left to hang at his side in his right hand, giving the other competing ones a once over.

He had been gone from Marsilikos for a while. On marriage business. But even if Belmont had returned one or two weeks ago, he had been scarce and wasn't seen often outside of the Delaunay Residence. The former Eresse lord stands on the field among those that are about to compete in this most ancient of contests, now a Vicomte de Rognac, by marriage. He is clad in the partial maile that as required for this contest, above which he wears a tabard in the black white and purple of Delaunay. A novelty indeed. A smile touches his features as he glances towards the benches where his wife is seated. Gabrielle Delaunay. And of course! He wears her favor about his arm.

She's at the stands, clad in different attire - blue today, a rich cerulean with a scarf that is almost translucent. Isabelle takes up the same seat she has occupied during the sword duels, situated higher upon the stands so she could see as wide of a vantage point as possible. Opera glasses on one hand, she waits for the bout to start, and lifts a hand to wave towards Ailene and Narcisse's direction.

Olivia had arrived early to the tournament grounds, and has procured for herself a still-warm pastry from one of vendors. Dressed in white silks, she'd make for an easy figure to spot amongst a sea of more colourful attire, though it would appear that she herself is trying to spot one amongst the many herself. She hovers near the entrance to the field itself, the pastry in her fingers untouched and her eyes darting from face to face since it seems that so many are making their way either onto the field or into the benches. The event is one of the more popular ones of the week, and though he'd said that he'd no intention of entering, there's a lingering doubt in her head that says that he might. Just might…

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

Matthieu adjusts the strap of his partial maile, angling his ice-and-silver eyes over to his dark-haired Cassiline friend. Gabriel tosses his helmet towards him, which he catches with one hand.

"No," the ducal heir replies, shaking out his fingers and rolling back a shoulder, feeling the tension and creak of leather straps. "But I can't hide in the manse forever, lest everyone else believe I'm permanently crippled." There's a faint grimace at the words, before pulling his fingers through his hair.

"Sometimes, listening you talk makes me even more glad that the family shipped me off to the Brotherhood," Gabriel mutters, taking a few steps back. "I'm going to be over there." He points. "Making sure Livvy doesn't faint."

Matthieu's eyes move towards the stands and towards a familiar figure clad in white. His expression is both resolute and resigned in equal measure. "I'll apologize later." With Augustin waiting nearby, he tips a salute with his fingers, before reaching out to close them around his blunted spear.

Thibault missed the sword event the other day, but he is here now, not willing to let another chance of fun-with-blades slip away. He is swinging the dulled blade, trying to get a feeling for the weapon and doesn't seem exactly happy about the balance of it. He does look rather excited though, despite this fact, sending the occasional look around the field to where the other competitors are preparing. He has donned his partial maile but the helmet is still on the ground besides him. Around his wrist is tied a lock of bright red hair bound with a pink ribbon. He glances towards the stands, searching for someone, and when his eyes finds her, he raises the arm holding the red lock of hair, smiles and gives a bow of the head in that direction. Then he turns his focus back to the event about to start.

Ailene is fretting, looking guilty as all hell, as she scans the grounds. "Oh!" she then exclaims in more surprise. "Is that…Lord Matthieu Rocallie?" she asks Sissy, as if her cousin knows him. "And, oh my goodness gracious!" She gives a delighted giggle. "That is Gabriel with him!" She starts to giggle a lot, then. "Did you know I had the biggest crush on yon Cassiling when I was a little girl!" It is then that she sees Thibault. Her face lights up and when he raises his arm, she bushes deeply and waves., smiling widely. Through her smiling teeth, she says to Sissy beside her, "Auggie is going to kill me, but I thought he wasn't going to make it." Ah well. Isn't she always in trouble?

Gwenaelle spies a ew people, first lifting a hand to Matthieu, studying the ducal heir as he moves off into the gathering crowd. Green eyes stay on him, likely taking note of how the man moves before seeming to give a nod at some mental thought. Allowing her gaze to sweep away, she finds yet another familiar figure, and this time, a hint of a smile touches her lips as she waves towards Eneas, perhaps to catch his attention?

Narcisse claps ever so politely for the other competitors as well as they make their entrance, but he offers a special grin towards both Trevalions in the competition. Then his focus goes back to Ailene and he laughs "Maybe you can just cheer for our family. But you have given your lock to one of them so it's decided I guess…" he tries to tease her a little, before they settle down for a proper seat in the stands.

Handing his sword over to Renauld to hold, while he binds his hair, so he can don his helmet, Eneas is soon nudged by the other man, then pointed in the direction of the waving Gwenaelle. A low laugh is given, a quiet few words given to Renauld, before the helmet goes on, the sword is picked back up, and the now properly armored and armed soldier strides over to the Priestess, giving her a proper little sword-salute before he steps closer to her. "Well, fancy meeting you here.", he quips. "Looking for work, are you?".

Aisan checks the feel of the helmet in one hand, checks the padding he has put into place to protect the stitches on his temple, eyebrow, and going back into his hair. He definitely is here against the doctors orders but he is here regardless. A look of determination is set on his face as he slides the helmet on without a wince, but with a clenching of his jaw. Those stitches are probably not feeling the best in the helmet! Once it is settled though he starts through the other individuals present in order to make sure he is signed up: "I know I was wounded, yes, I am capable of fighting. Make sure I am on the list." He nods briefly towards the individuals managing the charts. Adeline when he spots her gets a smile and a wave.

Desarae's eyes narrow a little when they fall on Aisan and note the lack of her favor on his wrist. She turns to say something quietly to the lady that she's seated beside. Its a quiet conversation, her brows knitting before she accepts the peach that the other fishes from a basket at her feet and offers to her. Anyone close enough to her would hear the grumbling complaint that continues on, though her attention is soon enough diverted when she notices her cousin seated a tier or two below her in the stand. "Ailene!" She calls, lifting a hand to offer a wave.

Helisson is utterly unfavored — and, honestly, is anyone shocked? The wonk-eyed goblin maid would hardly be the type to draw the favor of much of anyone, after all. She also doesn't really know who any of these people are — having long camped in the outskirts of town instead of lived in it, exactly, and having gone into its streets only rarely. She does recognize Thibault, though, and while he adjusts himself to the balance of the temporary blade, she holds hers over her pauldron, halm under her other arm as she approaches. "We'll cross blade after all then, weh?" she grins at him.

As things has started to get closer to the event, it would seem Antoine has gotten himself into more of a business mindset, focusing on himself now. Waiting for things to start, he grins a bit to himself, trying to figure out who to attack first.

Augustin returns Matthieu’s salute with a little one of his own, and a raised eyebrow.

Gwenaelle offers a nod to Renauld, then turns to Eneas, "I figured there might be a little to find here." But turning serious for a moment, she removes a ribbon from her hair, offering it to him, "Perhaps a blessing from Eisheth might help you remain standing?" Should he allow, she'll tie it to his arm before the call comes for the men to begin.

As Matthieu prepares for the bout, the Cassiline's lean form moves away, vaulting over the dividing fence that leads towards the stands. The sight of a familiar banner of red hair generates a look of…well, it's indescribable. "Who let that bloody hellion out of Azzalle?" he mutters, but still, he grins, and Gabriel tips Ailene an easy, casual salute before he makes his way to the lower stands, and close to the action just in case.

Helmet slapped over his head, Matthieu drops on a knee to tighten the lace of his boot, catching Augustin's returned salute. At the raised eyebrow from his friend and old battle comrade, a small smirk tugs lopsidedly on the corner of his mouth, and nods.

Eneas is glad there is a helmet in the way, for surely it might mask his surprise a little when he is offered the ribbon from the Priestess. There is only a moment of hesitation, though, before he offers her his mailed arm so she may indeed affix it. "Why, thank you, Priestess.". Oh, so formal, and careful come those words. Just ignore the grin, right?

Gabriel will find himself approaching an agitated Olivia when he makes his way to her side. "Is he fit enough, Gabe?" Worry shows in her eyes, as they cut from him and towards the determined figure that shows every attempt to disguise the remnants of his limp as he walks deeper onto field. A hand slides through the curve of the cassiline's arm, whether he wishes it or not. "I worried that he might, and arrived early in the hopes of speaking to him before his mind was set upon this."

Thibault has donned his helmet and moved closer to where the spectacle of the event is going to take place. He has noticed Helisson, the woman he met the other day under that tree, and gives her a sly smirk as she speaks to him. "Looks like it." is his short answer.

Helisson's grin parts and she dons her helm. "Come at me, then, when we begin," she invites him, as merrily as another maid might invite a gentleman to stroll with her along the seashore.

<COMBAT> Thibault attacks Helisson with Broadsword but Helisson DODGES!
<COMBAT> Augustin attacks Aisan with Broadsword but Aisan DODGES!
<COMBAT> Aisan attacks Augustin with Broadsword - Light wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Eneas attacks Matthieu with Broadsword - Critical wound to Head.
<COMBAT> Matthieu attacks Belmont with Polearm - Moderate wound to Left Arm.
<COMBAT> Helisson attacks Thibault with Broadsword - Serious wound to Abdomen (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Belmont attacks Eneas with Broadsword - Moderate wound to Abdomen (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Antoine attacks Thibault with Broadsword - Light wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Matthieu has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Matthieu spends a luck point to keep fighting!

Ailene lets her eyes wander off the field and off of her brother and Thibault when she hears her name being called. She looks back over to Desarae and grins. "Desarae!" she calls back. "How are you today?" She gestures out to the field. "Did you favor anyone special today?" she asks her. She scoots closer to her. "I gave a ribbon to Auggie, but then I thought he wasn't going to compete after all, so then I favored Lord Thibault Charlot." She shakes her head ruefully. "Oh well, guess I am cheering for both!" she chirps out, having made that decision. :Oh!" she then says. "I don't think you met my other Trevalion cousin, Lord Narcisse?" She turns to Sissy. "Sissy, this is my cousin on the Mereliot side, Lady Desarae de Mereliot." She smiles at both then looks out onto the field, just in time to see Gabriel's salute. She grins, salutes back, then sticks her tongue out at him. She watches as he then walks over to a pretty blond woman who looks agitated. She headtilts, but then, she is distracted by a strange noise from…her guard, Cyrille.

The normally quiet and guardful Cyrille is literally /STARING/ at a figure down on the field. His eyes are wide. Ailene looks down and follows his gaze. To one Belmont d'Eresse. She, too, gives a started noise and looks back to her guard. "Goodness!" she whispers. "What a resemblance!"

However, the event starts and her focus is taken away from her guard and Belmont's likeness, to the melee. Her eyes widen when she sees Thibault geeting beaten up by that Helission creature.

<COMBAT> Thibault attacks Helisson with Broadsword - Moderate wound to Head.
<COMBAT> Helisson attacks Thibault with Broadsword - Light wound to Abdomen (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Belmont attacks Eneas with Broadsword - Serious wound to Abdomen (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Matthieu attacks Aisan with Polearm but Aisan DODGES!
<COMBAT> Eneas attacks Belmont with Broadsword but Belmont DODGES!

Desarae smiles to Ailene. "I did. Yes. The Vicomte de Dijon. He appears not to be wearing it, however, and I remember him removing it after he yielded in the sword duels. Perhaps he felt himself not worthy…" Her voice tails off, and disappointment shadows her eyes. The look is quickly dispelled however with the addition of a new introduction, and a smile is bestowed upon Narcisse. "Lord Narcisse, how lovely to meet you. Are you long for the city?" She makes pleasantries as is expected, though her attention appears to be split between those and the field.

<COMBAT> Augustin attacks Aisan with Broadsword - Light wound to Right Hand.
<COMBAT> Antoine attacks Thibault with Broadsword - Light wound to Abdomen (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Aisan attacks Augustin with Broadsword - Light wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Eneas has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Thibault has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Eneas spends a luck point to keep fighting!
<COMBAT> Thibault spends a luck point to keep fighting!

Desarae smiles to Ailene. "I did. Yes. The Vicomte de Dijon. He appears not to be wearing it, however, and I remember him removing it after he yielded in the sword duels. Perhaps he felt himself not worthy…" Her voice tails off, and disappointment shadows her eyes. The look is quickly dispelled however with the addition of a new introduction, and a smile is bestowed upon Narcisse. "Lord Narcisse, how lovely to meet you. Are you long for the city?" She makes pleasantries as is expected, though her attention appears to be split between those and the field.

As the melee begins, Gwenaelle watches with lips pressed firmly together and hands clasped. When the sounds of battle comes, she takes a deep breath and turns to speak to the other healers, most from the temple, "Be ready.." Turning back, she tries to find Mattheiu and Eneas in the crowd, but by now, from where she stands on the sidelines, she can't see either man. Worried? Her? Maaybe.

<COMBAT> Augustin attacks Aisan with Broadsword - Moderate wound to Right Hand.
<COMBAT> Antoine attacks Eneas with Broadsword but Eneas DODGES!
<COMBAT> Eneas attacks Belmont with Broadsword - Moderate wound to Head (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Matthieu attacks Aisan with Polearm but Aisan DODGES!
<COMBAT> Helisson attacks Antoine with Broadsword - Light wound to Right Arm.
<COMBAT> Aisan attacks Augustin with Broadsword and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Thibault attacks Antoine with Broadsword - Light wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Belmont attacks Matthieu with Broadsword - Moderate wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Aisan has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Matthieu has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Aisan spends a luck point to keep fighting!

> <COMBAT> Aisan has changed stance to normal.

Narcisse seems to be more focused on the battlefield himself, taking an interest in the action down there of course like the commoners. Though he remains mostly calm throughout it all at least on the outside. And his attention is diverged from the action, as his cousin introduces him to one of the far relatives "Lady Desarae, a pleasure for me as well." he says warmly, inclining his head politely, before those blue eyes watch his cousin on the battlefield once again, cheering him on.

Augustin is apparently going to be repeating his duel performance, as he missed and takes a tag. He improves his performance in the next few exchanges, however, as he starts hitting and even avoids being hit in the last one.

Eneas taking in the combatants has him select his first attack easily. Only one with a longer reach, a polearm to keep people at bay. So Matthieu has to go. A side-step to get into the reach, an overhead circling swing and a solid TWACK against the helmet, even as he himself is tagged by a sword in the midsection. Perhaps it is overconfidence (okay, it probably is very certainly overconfidence), but Eneas just follows through with the swing, turning to face his attacker, assuming that solid thunk had finished the pesky spear-wielder. Thankfully that won't matter much, as he gets smacked in the same spot, twice!

Doubling over for a moment, Eneas grunts, taking a step back, before straightening himself back up, gritting teeth through the pain to try to defend himself once more from Belmont's attack: Only for the man to switch targets. Well! That swing to the head worked once, right!? Wait, what was that draft of a sword zipping past him, missing narrowly? Another half step to the side, another direction to attack and defend against, eyes narrowing at Antoine.

Aisan looks at everyone facing off with everyone else and as the sign is given to start the fight is on! Aisan narrowly avoids an attack from Augustin and he swipes back at the man, hitting hard enough to be felt through the mail armor everyone is wearing. He misses the next time, ducking under a swipe from a… polearm?! He blinks and back pedals: "Did nobody see the dueling day? Or is everyone else but me scared hmm?" He laughs and then has to dodge another swipe from the polearm and it throws his aim off completely, leaving him open for an answering hit from Augustin that knocks the wind out of him for a few moments. He staggers backwards with a grunt and sucks in a breath.

Ailene nods distractedly to Desarae about whom she favored, but her eyes are on the field. She sees her brother doing alright, but her worry is for Thibault. She bites her lip as she sees him getting pummeled by both Antoine and Helisson. She clasps her hands together and purses her lips. "Come on, My Lord!" she murmurs to herself, brows furrowing. She sees Matthieu falling and being called out and sighs. She shoots Gabriel sad shrug.

Funny enough, while all this is going on, Cyrille has started cheering. For Belmont. Even as his doppleganger gets ready to attack his Lord employer. Ailene elbows him in the ribs. "You are cheering for LORD TREVALION." she reminds him.

Helisson stands ready for her chosen opponent to come for her, knees bent, posture lower than standard for a duel, though she's also only five-five in her warboots, so there's that to contend with, as well. She dances back from Thibault's first swing, then darts in to slam him sideways in the gut on her way past. She takes a ringing blow to her helmet but bounds back to tap his other flank before she dodges back, sort of glaring at Antoine, who has come to harry their informal duel. She gives Thibault the eye, then looks suggestively at Antoine, following which she turns to follow after the interloper, instead.

There's a brief grin as things progress, and Antoine attempts to attack Thibault. There's a brief grin offered, before he turns to attack Eneas, while taking a few hits from others. "A great day for this, hmmm?" he remarks, lightly. Yes, it seems that he's in a good mood today.

Thibault moves in a small circle around Helisson, and goes for a swing, but misses barely as she is quick to move to the side and dodge. Then her own sword impacts on the chest of his armor and he grunts before another blow hits lower on his body and causes him to loose balance slightly. He hadn't noticed that another lord had apparently picked him out as first target too, and curses to himself for letting himself be distracted by the challenge of Helisson. He chooses to ignore the other man for now, though and goes for another swing that connects to her head, but again he is too slow to dodge the blow from Helisson and again another blade impacts him too. He looks between the two and then a sly smile appears on his lips as he looks to Helisson and gives a sideways nod toward Antoine before he turns towards the man and takes his next swing at him, the smile widening a bit as he sees the armored woman's blade striking true on Antoine as well. He looks between the two first and then to the rest of the field where it seems like the first 'casualty' of the night has already been claimed.

Belmont has been in battle. Not too long ago. At the gates of Genoa, and the memory is still fresh and coming to life as he begins the usually so deadly dance of sword swings and dodges. He goes for Eneas first, content with the two strikes he lands there on the d'Aiglemort, but like in battle, it is hard to focus on one alone, when there is fighting all about you. Seeing Eneas stumble, he turns and finds a new opponent to target in Matthieu, and with a roar, Belmont goes at him and strikes him down with a hit to his chest. Things are going well for him so far, and so Belmont Eresse Delaunay does not back away from the challenge, when his gaze falls upon Augustin Trevalion.

Is he fit enough? "If he's not, his hard skull will keep, I'm sure," Gabriel grumbles when Olivia takes his arm, suddenly there where he's decided to take upon a lean. Past her shoulder, he puffs his cheeks and makes such a face towards Ailene's direction, before turning his attention back to his childhood friend. "He'll be alright, Livvy. It's less about winning and more about ensuring the ravens and sparrows know he can hold his own."

The match commences and Matthieu takes off, skidding to the side and somewhere behind Augustin as the charge comes from all directions. He is slower than he is, usually, but he's able to keep up with the veteran swordsman, falling back on old habits. He lets Augustin lead, but once he finds the opening, he moves to the right of the swordsman's swing and away from it, to spear the point of his blunted polearm towards Belmont, tagging his left arm. He is too late to change his position, however, when Eneas comes out of nowhere in the skirmish, and strikes him a devastating blow enough to the head that his helmet comes flying off. He staggers sideways, and nearly drops, but compensates by stabbing the blunt end of the shaft on the ground to right him up and twist him towards his next target. With Augustin still engaging Aisan, he moves to assist, but ends up missing him. The end comes swiftly when Belmont's swordpoint tags him in the center of his light mail and pushes him back, dropping him into the ground. He's not unconscious, but he is quite dazed, and with a hand, he quickly shoves himself back and away from the fighting, unwilling to get caught up in it and aggravate his new and existing injuries.

As Matthieu is finally spied heading towards the sidelines, Gwenaelle steps forwards, "Come, milord. Let us see to your injuries and make sure you are well for the feast to come, yes?" Bandages and healing salves and tonics to come!

<COMBAT> Helisson has changed stance to Normal.
<COMBAT> Helisson attacks Antoine with Broadsword - Light wound to Left Arm.
<COMBAT> Augustin attacks Aisan with Broadsword - ARMOR on Chest stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Aisan attacks Augustin with Broadsword but Augustin DODGES!
<COMBAT> Thibault attacks Antoine with Broadsword - Serious wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Eneas attacks Antoine with Broadsword - Serious wound to Right Arm.
<COMBAT> Antoine attacks Eneas with Broadsword but Eneas DODGES!
<COMBAT> Belmont attacks Augustin with Broadsword but Augustin DODGES!
<COMBAT> Antoine has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Antoine spends a luck point to keep fighting!
<COMBAT> Eneas has changed stance to banzai.
<COMBAT> Thibault attacks Antoine with Broadsword and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Augustin attacks Aisan with Broadsword - Serious wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Antoine attacks Thibault with Broadsword and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Belmont attacks Augustin with Broadsword but Augustin DODGES!
<COMBAT> Eneas attacks Augustin with Broadsword - Light wound to Left Arm.
<COMBAT> Aisan attacks Augustin with Broadsword - Serious wound to Neck (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Helisson attacks Antoine with Broadsword and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Aisan has changed stance to cautious.
<COMBAT> Augustin attacks Aisan with Broadsword - ARMOR on Chest stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Helisson attacks Antoine with Broadsword - Light wound to Right Leg.
<COMBAT> Thibault attacks Antoine with Broadsword and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Aisan attacks Augustin with Broadsword but Augustin DODGES!
<COMBAT> Eneas attacks Augustin with Broadsword but Augustin DODGES!
<COMBAT> Antoine attacks Thibault with Broadsword and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Belmont attacks Augustin with Broadsword - Light wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Antoine has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Augustin has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Augustin spends a luck point to keep fighting!
<COMBAT> Eneas has changed stance to cautious.
<COMBAT> Helisson has changed stance to Evade.
<COMBAT> Thibault has changed stance to cautious.
<COMBAT> Aisan has changed stance to normal.

He recognizes the healer that comes to attend him, Matthieu's eyes swinging towards a familiar head of red hair. "….Priestess," he greets with a shallow bow of his head and lets the woman take his arm to pull him towards…where are they going? He shakes his head once, in an attempt to clear the fog overtaking his senses; his ears are still ringing from that ridiculous blow from Eneas - but that's to be expected from anyone tangling with a d'Aiglemort. "The leg is better," he offers. "I believe it's out of the point of danger since we last spoke, but I will defer to your diagnosis." The fact that he managed to push himself up this feet after that was a miracle in itself - warriors from Camlach were as hard as the environments in which they were raised. But he's not morose, and the shock of adrenaline in his system puts some much needed spark in dormant nerve endings that have just remembered what it was like to go into the breach.

"Matthieu!" Olivia breaks from Gabriel's side, the lengths of her silks get gathered deftly within the curve of one hand, and she hitches them free of the mud as she threads her way through the crowds. No cursing, no admonishments pass her lips, though goodness only knows what thoughts now fill her head. "The healers' tents, Gabriel," she calls back over her shoulder to the Cassiline that threatens to overtake her. "Which way?"

Ailene is cheering for both her brother and Lord Thibault now. She shoots to her feet and jumps up and down excitedly, her hands still clasped tightly together, when Thibault knocks the crap out of Antoine. "Go My Lord Thibault!" she calls out, her eyes shining. She then sees Augustin get in a good hit to Aisan, but then sees him get hit pretty hard back. Then…"No!" she yells out when Auggie gets another serious hit. Luckily, he isn't down yet. She looks over to Sissy, her eyes wide. "One of them just /HAS? to win!" she says to him.

Opera glasses in hand, Isabelle follows Augustin's progress through the field; whatever speed that has failed him during the sword duels, he has managed to recover today and in spades. Gone is her usual glib and imperious mien, her lips parted with an open grin as she watches him fight. In many ways, the grand melee is a more exciting contest to her than the others - and tells her so much more about those in the field.

Augustin has apparently decided to turn on the dodging. You know, now that he is being attacked by three people simultaneously. For a few moments he is putting on a clinic of weaving between blades, scoring his own blows on Aisan. Eventually he does get tagged again, gritting his teeth and returning to the fight.

Eneas once more faces who attacked him last, even if that makes poor Antoine face more than his fair share of swipes. Connecting with his arm, once more the soldier moves through with the attack, seeing his target get hit by others, and perhaps assuming they are no longer a threat. The nod from his cousin is all it takes, the guard dropped and the attack on the mutal target one of quite the ferocity by the mercenary. While it is a glancing blow, Eneas keeps moving and it is Helisson that is in the path of his next swing. Is that laughter that comes from under his helmet? Surely the Camaeline soldier is starting to warm up. Ahem.

Aisan is somehow still on his feet after many exchanges with Augustin, the two landed blows on each other that are telling! Then Belmont comes to assist, and Eneas! A smile shows on Aisan's face: "Thank you cousin, and thank you lord I do not yet know. We shall have to share some drinks after this!" He refocuses his attention on defense after his armor gets hit again enough to send him staggering but he lands a strong cut of his own amidst all the confusion. A quick look around has him breathing a sigh of relief when there is no longer a polearm cutting at him as well!

An interesting twist of fate has Belmont team up with two d'Aiglemorts as they close in on Augustin de Trevalion. But Augustin proves too agile. At least at first. Before their combined efforts force him back. At least momentarily. It is enough to have Belmont's attention drift elsewhere… to Eneas, who suddenly turns from an ally into a foe, a foe Belmont is ready to fight in the next exchanges of blows.

Helisson falls into formation with Thibault as though the pair of them were wading into the blood tides of war together, harrying Antoine harmlessly but into the blows of the others come to take the man down. She can hardly get her own blade on him, but for a tap here and a tap there, until she grabs her blunt's handle in both hands and lunges forward with the blunt over her left shoulder to swing down low and batter it into the back of Antoine's knee in an effort to put the man on his back.

Grimacing as he goes down, Antoine is unable to hold back a chuckle as he gets to his feet to move himself off the field, shaking his head a little. He moves along a bit slowly, grimacing momentarily again.

Narcisse grits his own teeth as the action gets more and more heated and he nods his head to Ailene, letting that Trevalion pride take control of his emotions for once as he shouts out "Go Auggy Go!" cheering his cousin on as someone needs to do it as he may seem to need it the most right now.

To his credit, there's no remorse, dismay or grimace on the Cassiline's usually expressive face. What does cull a reaction - other than a long-suffering sigh - is the woman by his side suddenly breaking away from him in a flutter of white silks, like a spectre or a ghost, flitting from him with surprising speed unexpectedly coming from two dainty little feet. "Livvy! Slow down!" Gabriel calls, though he quickly overtakes her, not when he's easily one of the fastest individuals present. He reaches out to curl his fingers on her upper arm in as gentle a grasp as he can, to steer her properly to where the healer's tents are. "Don't worry, he's in good hands." Dark eyes squint from a distance. "I think I recognize the woman who's got him."

There are other healers at the side, prepared to take those men coming off the field injured. At least the weapons are blunted, yes?

The deed done, Hel turns back to her original partner in this great dance of blades, giving him a salute to mark her intentions instead of just bumrushing him. If only she had the same good manners in real life as she does on the tourney field. But you can't have everything.

Fenris arrives to watch his favorite blade fight. He's been quietly cheering for her the whole tourney. He watches her from the gate standing up. His arms crossed over his broad chest as he just watches what's going on. His eyes stay watching her carefully.

Thibault is still holding Helisson in the corner of his eye but has seemingly decided to keep on trying to eliminate the other lord that chose him as his initial target despite the man turning to go after another contestant. Oh no you don't! A quick swing to the man's torso is given and hit's true, and seems to get his attention as Hellison is also sending a swathe of blows at the man with military precision and determination. But he seems to be fully focused on the two now and narrowly dodges the next blows sent his way, finally going down to a hit from Helisson. Thibault immediately turns towards the woman and returns her salute with a small nod and a grin full of determined mirth. He's enjoying this, but who can blame him, it's been a long time since he's had a chance to wield a blade, even one as clumsy as this one. He quickly looks towards the stands and sends a roguish smile in the direction of whoever has caught his eye, but it only lasts a split second, then his attention is back on Helisson and he lowers his stance and gets ready to face off against the woman, but still keeping his eye on the rest, not wanting himself to be distracted again like at the beginning of the melee.

<COMBAT> Thibault attacks Helisson with Broadsword but Helisson DODGES!
<COMBAT> Aisan attacks Augustin with Broadsword but Augustin DODGES!
<COMBAT> Helisson attacks Thibault with Broadsword and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Eneas attacks Belmont with Broadsword - Serious wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Belmont attacks Eneas with Broadsword and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Augustin attacks Aisan with Broadsword but Aisan DODGES!
<COMBAT> Belmont has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Aisan has changed stance to cautious.
<COMBAT> Belmont spends a luck point to keep fighting!
<COMBAT> Eneas has changed stance to banzai.
<COMBAT> Thibault attacks Helisson with Broadsword but Helisson DODGES!
<COMBAT> Augustin attacks Aisan with Broadsword - Light wound to Left Arm.
<COMBAT> Helisson attacks Thibault with Broadsword but Thibault DODGES!
<COMBAT> Eneas attacks Augustin with Broadsword but Augustin DODGES!
<COMBAT> Belmont attacks Helisson with Broadsword but Helisson DODGES!
<COMBAT> Aisan attacks Augustin with Broadsword but Augustin DODGES!
<COMBAT> Thibault attacks Helisson with Broadsword - Moderate wound to Right Arm.
<COMBAT> Aisan attacks Augustin with Broadsword but Augustin DODGES!
<COMBAT> Eneas attacks Augustin with Broadsword but Augustin DODGES!
<COMBAT> Helisson attacks Thibault with Broadsword - Serious wound to Abdomen (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Belmont attacks Helisson with Broadsword - Moderate wound to Right Hand.
<COMBAT> Augustin attacks Aisan with Broadsword - Light wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Thibault has been KO'd!

"I know, Gabe. I do…" Olivia's words are stilted, her breath halting as she turns to look at her childhood friend with eyes appear enormous in the paleness of her face. "It's just, it's too soon. He's not fully fit." Eyes lid, and she takes a couple of deep breaths, allowing herself a moment to center her emotions and the panic that had risen within her at the sight of Matthieu being felled. "I'm proud of him. I am. But why do you men always feel that you've something to prove? Because you don't…" Her voice tails off, and her head turns in the direction of the tents and the numerous other combatants that are now making their way towards them. Her arm slips through Gabe's. "I'll behave, I promise. Can we go?"

Aisan somehow remains on his feet. He takes hit after hit from Augustin, his armor absorbs more and more damage and he is staggering around like a drunken sailor at times but he swings mostly defensive jabs, trying to keep Augustin off of him but it doesn't really work that well. It's clear who is the better swordsman out of the pair. Even with assistance Augustin is avoiding all their strikes: "I salute your skill sir. I don't know how much longer I'll be able to sustain this." He chuckles wryly.

Even while the field gets smaller and sparser, Eneas keeps up the momentum. A strike against Belmont, and off you go again! Next target, back to Augustin. Another swing, another strike with all his might. Only to miss. Can't have that. Again! And missing again. Oh, now the man's a challenge! "Hold still, will you!", he laughs, both hands on the sword to swing at him again, in step with Aisan to drive him back.

He sighs, free hand raking through his hair. "Every man's different," Gabriel points out towards the courtesan, patting the hand on his arm in a reassuring fashion as he takes her to where the healer tents are. "His reasons and rationale, you're going to have to ask him…if he'll answer. You and I both know how reticent he can be." He pushes back the tent flap for her, and releases her hand so she can venture inside, before he himself follows, and vanishes from view.

Healers welcome each new contestant to fall from the field, helping them limp off towards the tent if need be. The worse are given the best cots and tending. Those, like Mattheiu who got their heads rattled a few time, are examined closer than others - wouldn't do to not care for a concussion and have the lord fall over later!

Belmont stumbles backwards, when Eneas' strike across his chest drives all air from his lungs. The Vicomte de Rognac sinks to a knee for a moment, as he tries to get his breathing back to normal. Yes. Air comes, and with it renewed stubborn pride that keeps him from giving in just yet. Belmont stands, eyes blinking as his grip tightens about the handle of his sword, and he decides… to go for another target, as Eneas seems intent on attacking Augustin once again. His eyes fall of the female fighter, and Belmont closes in on her, slamming the flat of the dull blade against her sword hand.

Helisson had an agreement with Thibault, even if one not shaken upon or not even spoken, but that mutual glance of acknowledgement that they would take down Antoine before resuming their fight. Thibault may not have trusted her to uphold her eyebeam-pact, but she did, anyhow — and now they're back to one another. She's wary of that strength of his, dips from his blow — then has to avoid Belmont on her other flank, making her own blade find only air. She grunts and puts up with it the best she can, going after Thibault more closely to try to avoid Belmont's harassment, her steel singing against his maile and ribs below. The return shot to her arm makes her spin backward, only to get her hand smooshed against her sword's handle by Belmont's blunted implement, drawing a few lively swears but managing to keep hold of her weapon and not drop it, instead pivoting back around to slam it once more into Thibault's side, right above the hip, hoping to send him down before she has to turn her attention more fully to Belmont's assault.

Thibault squares of against Helisson once more, giving her a nod of respect before they go at it once more. He tries to get the measure of her movements but thre is something unorthodox about the way she weaves and dodges and his first two swings go wide, impacting only air. He doesn't seem to want to overcommit, having already felt the force with which she wields her weapon. He is moving a with stiffer movements than earlier, clearly feeling the sting of the blows already landed on him but manages to dodge out of the way of her first swing, and then her second as his on goes wide too. Another man joins the fray and goes for Helisson, but he too misses her. She's fast, much faster than you'd think looking at her, especially in armor. Then he goes for a third swing, this time a bit more uncatiously, and he does manage to land a solid hit on her arm at the same time as the other lord lands a strike to her hand. But…eschewing his guard to move in for the hit, he doesn't manage to dodge her blade and it impacts hard to his midsection with a large, auble "SNAP" below he dull ring of the weapon against the armor. All the air seems to be sucked out of him and he reels back a few steps. He looks at her with the fire still in his eyes and tries to raise posture and his weapon again, but winches hard at the attempt and instead holds up a hand, taking a few steps further back to signal that he is unable to continue. He gives Helisson a wide, albeit pained, smile as he does so, nodding his head to her one last time.

Ailene sees that roguish smile and her flutters. She turns to Sissy, looking totally besotted. "Isn't he so dashing?" she coos. She then quickly turns back to watch the fight. As Augustin tries to attack Aisan again, the man dodges and she growls. "Why does he have to be so damn agile, huh?" she asks Sissy. Both her champions are locked in a dance of dodges with their opponents. "What is this?" she mutters. "A bloody dancing contest? Somebody hit somebody!" Then Thibault gets a hit to Helisson. She starts to cheer, but before she can, that creature goes for him and knocks him hard. Dismayed, she looks over to him. "He fought so well!" she laments, then turns to Sissy. "Of all people to knock him out of the fight, though!" She sighs deeply, again. "I should go see to him." she tells him. "I will cheer Auggie from there." Then she hurries over to Thibault, leaving Cyrille with Sissy.

Helisson returns the nod, brows drawn in a look of real respect. But that's about all she can do before she has to draw up to face Belmont coming for her.

<COMBAT> Belmont has changed stance to cautious.
<COMBAT> Helisson attacks Belmont with Broadsword - Moderate wound to Right Arm.
<COMBAT> Augustin attacks Eneas with Broadsword - ARMOR on Neck stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Aisan attacks Augustin with Broadsword - Light wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Eneas attacks Augustin with Broadsword - Light wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Belmont attacks Helisson with Broadsword and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Augustin has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Aisan has changed stance to cautious.
<COMBAT> Helisson attacks Eneas with Broadsword but Eneas DODGES!
<COMBAT> Eneas attacks Helisson with Broadsword - Light wound to Left Hand.
<COMBAT> Aisan attacks Helisson with Broadsword - Moderate wound to Chest.
<COMBAT> Belmont attacks Aisan with Broadsword - Moderate wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Aisan has been KO'd!

Fenris turns his eyes to Thibault and he frowns watching Helisson beat him. His eyes light up as he sees how fast Hel is. He's so proud of the blade. The woman can be vicious and he's clearly showing pride in how well she's doing. His eye's stay on her while she goes up against another.

Gwenaelle doesn't see how things are going on the field, only makes note of the number of contestants that are coming into the healer's tents. Occasionally, her gaze will sweep over those that are there, a smile to touch her lips secretly as one particular soldier is not spied yet. Matthieu is taken care of, and soon marked as well to leave the tent, "Just try and be careful, hmm?"

There! That's better! Eneas grins as Augustin is finally struck, even if the man's blade goes straight for his neck! Good that those are blunted. Perhaps he would be more careful if they were real swords? With the man tapping out, there is a moment where Eneas gives his cousin a calculating look. But then apparently decides to strike him down now would make him more powerful than he could possibly imagine. So turn around he does and Helisson is the next target. Wide, almost careless swings for the poor woman! Even as she strikes back at him, he seems not to care anymore for his own safety, merely seeks to inflict some pain on the two remaining, even as the armor gets rattled anew! Well, warm he is now. Panting even! Dodge, weave, strike!

When Augustin finally falls Aisan breathes a sigh of relief. He grins at Eneas and then nods to the other man and they both round on Helisson! Stepping through the now much reduced battlefield, Aisan times his swing but ends up having to go onto the defensive as Belmont suddenly turns towards him. He manages to strike and land a heavy blow into the woman, but he takes an equally hard one himself from Belmont. Staggering backwards he trips over Augustin's legs and then hits the ground. Hard. CLANG! His helmet hits the ground and Aisan's sword falls limp out of his fingers.

It's clear that the longer the bout goes on, those remaining start to feel fatigued - the burst of speed Augustin demonstrated against three opponents targetting him is astonishing to a considerable degree, but she is very much aware that kind of feat has its costs. With him out of the match, Isabelle is on her feet, cheering along with the crowd at the magnificent demonstrations of physical prowess present on the field, before she turns and heads down from the benches, unfolding her near-translucent scarf to drape over her head and secure the rich, midnight coils her hair is fashioned in, tossing the extra length over one shoulder at her long, purposeful strides. It flutters like her own pennant as she drifts from one end of the perimeter to another, to see to the Trevalion knight.

Helisson waits back — lets Belmont come to her on his own terms, her half-crossed eyes unreasonably quick in intuiting his direction and ducking, pivoting on her heel and coming around to smack him one on his sword arm's tricep. In the aftermath of which move she finds herself rushed from across the field by the two who had just downed their foe — or something like that, she was busy watching Belmont. Fortunately for her, Belmont is enough of a fair-minded fighter to divert his attention — she was getting hit this way and that and all she can do is retreat at a trot and regroup, drawing Eneas and Aisan along after her, not able to do much but thrust the tip of her blade against Eneas' chest, but at least Belmont closes in to pick off one of her attackers. She can't quite manage a salute, hard pressed as she is, but she'll be sure to thank him later.

Augustin goes down, but Belmont did not land that devastating strike. Instead he misses when he aims for the fierce Helisson. A shake of hss head there - and the decision to choose his opponents more wisely, where considerations of feminity may not be as distracting. Aisan d'Aiglemort is his next choice, and he goes at him with a ferocity that may in part be explained by his lack of success with Helisson d'Essoms. Down Aisan goes, and Belmont turns around, to pick the other remaining d'Aiglemort as his target. And now there is only three of them…

<COMBAT> Helisson attacks Eneas with Broadsword - Serious wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Eneas attacks Belmont with Broadsword - Light wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Belmont attacks Eneas with Broadsword but Eneas DODGES!
<COMBAT> Eneas has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Helisson attacks Belmont with Broadsword but Belmont DODGES!
<COMBAT> Belmont attacks Helisson with Broadsword - Critical wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Helisson has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Helisson spends a luck point to keep fighting!
<COMBAT> Belmont attacks Helisson with Broadsword and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Helisson attacks Belmont with Broadsword and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Helisson attacks Belmont with Broadsword and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Belmont attacks Helisson with Broadsword but Helisson DODGES!

Thibault walks as upright as he can leaving the field of combat, not wanting to show how much the blows, and that last blow especially, is hurting him. Like a bird with a broken wing. The winches on his face with every step makes it clear that he is not as unscathed as he would like to appear, however. He is making his way towards the healer's tent but when he looks up towards the stands, he notices someone missing from the spot she was in previously, and his eyes go searching for her. He seems to notice anoteher person who has joined mid-contest, and sends the man as much of a smile as he can muster and a small raise of his hand, before his eyes continue their search. It isn't too hard to make out that fiery red hair, though, even in the mass of people assembled here today to spectate, and he stops and changes his direction from where she is approaching, looking at her with a strained smile.

Well, it was bound to end badly. Two against one, and the stubborn D'Aiglemort not falling back to bring up his guard? A good last tagging of the Hellion…err…Helisson's center mass, before he gets his wind knocked out of him. Down to one knee he goes, lifting the free hand up signal he yields. "I am done!", he half-coughs, half chortles. When he spits out to the side it is faintly reddish hued, but he just settles back away from the remaining fight, waiting for Renauld or one of the officials to help him off the field. Why, those suits of armors are suddenly heavy!

Ailene runs up to Thibault, seeing him heading her way. "What are you doing?" she scolds him, her eyes checking all his visible injuries. "You should go to the medic tent right away!" She reaches for his arm, to gently guide him in that direction, but looks back to check on her brother's progress. She sees him struck out, too and sighs. "Ah well." she murmurs, shaking her head. "You both fought gallantly." she tells Thibault with a warm smile. She looks up at the stands and sees Isabelle heading in the direction of Augustin and smirks. "I shall leave her to it." she says. "I must see to you, too, hmm?" she asks Thibault, fluttering her lashes, before giggling. However she does turn serious. "Are you truly alright?" she asks him, concerned. "You were not injured too badly, were you?"

Augustin did not go quite so indescribably unconscious this time, more of a light bout of being out followed by staggering off the field. He grins to Isabelle when she comes over, and to his sister. "How was the show?" He asks wryly.

It is the game of temporary alliances that makes the melee as unpredictable in its eventual outcome, as this particular bout turns out to be. Belmont had intervened earlier, when Aisan turned to attack her as well and make use of their advantage in numbers. The Delaunay had thwarted this attempt somewhat, by going against Aisan instead. And now it is Helisson and him ganging up against Eneas d'Aiglemort, a sword fighter of supreme calibre. A nod is offered to Helisson, as Belmont swings his sword, timing his attack with that of the swords woman. And while Belmont's blade hisses past Eneas, it is Helisson that manages the deciding blow that eliminates Eneas from the melee.

Then there were only two. And with a grin Belmont turns to face off against Helisson, knowing that it is only her that keeps him from victory. His strike is hard. Determined. Fueled by a passion to manage that feat for once. To stand out. To win.

Helisson can do better than a thank you — she can repay Belmont's favor by working in to flank Eneas instead of flanking Belmont himself, forcing the former to fight on two fronts and able with minimal danger to herself bring a two-fisted SMAKK of blunt steel against the armor on the back of Eneas' ribs, watching him warily even on the ground until he gives the yield, and she lifts her blade in a salute to Belmont, giving him a nod in acknowledgement of his aid, earlier, considering the debt repaid and stepping over Eneas to go meet Belmont steel to steel. His steel blade-blunt, to be precise, with her steel-clad chest, the blow drawing a great heaving grunt from her and forcing her to her knees — but, ragged-breathed, she rises again, slanting her body protectively behind her blade, held in two hands like a greatsword, even though it's only the length and helf of a broadsword. Parry — parry —- the blocked shots rings out and make her arms vibrate. But still she stands against it. For now.

Fenris turns his eyes to Thibault and bows his head to the man before looking towards Heli and watching her carefully. Worry shows on his expression. His hands gripping his own arms as he holds himself back from jumping in and hitting everyone whose honorably fighting with a tree. He growls under his breath.

Gemma is late, not just late but very late! Working her way through the crowds to see the fighters she stands on her tiptoes to see over the heads of those in front of her.

Her hand reaches out in an effort to steady the Knight of the White Swan, and at the good-natured grin directed her way, Isabelle returns it with one brilliant enough that it stands to blind the unwary. "I should have made a wager with you that you would move like the storms of Pointe des Soeurs themselves with three swords pointed at your throat instead of merely one," she tells him, her lips finding his cheek in a brief and companionable peck. Dark eyes with their gold motes brim with genuine affection and that perpetual, mischievous good humor. "You were astonishing. Do you need the healers to attend to you?"

<COMBAT> Belmont attacks Helisson with Broadsword and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Helisson attacks Belmont with Broadsword but Belmont DODGES!

Fenris turns his eyes to Thibault and bows his head to the man before looking towards Heli and watching her carefully. Worry shows on his expression. His hands gripping his own arms as he holds himself back from jumping in and hitting everyone whose honorably fighting with a tree. He growls under his breath.

Gemma is late, not just late but very late! Working her way through the crowds to see the fighters she stands on her tiptoes to see over the heads of those in front of her.

<COMBAT> Helisson attacks Belmont with Broadsword but Belmont DODGES!
<COMBAT> Belmont attacks Helisson with Broadsword and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Helisson attacks Belmont with Broadsword and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Belmont attacks Helisson with Broadsword but Helisson DODGES!
<COMBAT> Helisson attacks Belmont with Broadsword but Belmont DODGES!
<COMBAT> Belmont attacks Helisson with Broadsword but Helisson DODGES!

Her hand reaches out in an effort to steady the Knight of the White Swan, and at the good-natured grin directed her way, Isabelle returns it with one brilliant enough that it stands to blind the unwary. "I should have made a wager with you that you would move like the storms of Pointe des Soeurs themselves with three swords pointed at your throat instead of merely one," she tells him, her lips finding his cheek in a brief and companionable peck. Dark eyes with their gold motes brim with genuine affection and that perpetual, mischievous good humor. "You were astonishing. Do you need the healers to attend to you?"

<COMBAT> Belmont attacks Helisson with Broadsword - ARMOR on Head stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Helisson attacks Belmont with Broadsword and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Eisheth has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Belmont attacks Helisson with Broadsword and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Helisson attacks Belmont with Broadsword and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Eisheth has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Helisson attacks Belmont with Broadsword and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Belmont attacks Helisson with Broadsword and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Eisheth has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Helisson attacks Belmont with Broadsword and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Belmont attacks Helisson with Broadsword and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Belmont attacks Helisson with Broadsword - Light wound to Left Arm.
<COMBAT> Helisson attacks Belmont with Broadsword and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Helisson has been KO'd!

There are cheers and groans from the spectators outside giving some hint to what is going on beyond the healer's tents. For Gwenaelle, she doesn't get to know who all is still left, moving on to another who has a good bruise on his arm. From one to another she will move, continuing to check up on those that come to the healer's tent.

With the bout ending, Renauld is soon there to pick up his 'charge' to help him walk back towards the healer tents. Eneas has no qualms leaning heavily on the man, giving Belmont and Helisson a dip of his helmet: clearly deeper than a nod, but not quite deep enough for a bow. Despite being eliminated, he seems in good enough spirits, still coughing from that last hit that rattled his ribcage, but just as likely just having overexerted himself with moving back and fro between so many targets of opportunity.

Senses begin to blur, when Helisson and Belmont go at each other, again and again. They certainly have lost some of their swiftness and elegance, when joints and bruises scream in agony with each movement they make. Each time, steel catches steel with a load metallic CLANG, the sound reaches his mind belatedly, as if travelling through a thick foggy haze, swallowing the noise. Grey-blue eyes narrow with unrelenting determination however. He must best her. She is, after all, just a girl. And yet. It takes time. It takes so long, that the quick pace of the start slows to a trot, and a sigh goes through the crowd as they already begin to fear that the melee will never be decided. What if the two remaining fighters would collapse from exhaustion, at the same time? It is a possibility that lingers for a very long moment. Until Belmont finds a way through Helisson's excellent defense, and the flat of the tourney blade slam-slithers over her left arm, with enough momentum to force her to back away a step or two.

Helisson keeps meeting Belmont's blade with hers, thrusting it away with the base of her blunted blade, down near the crossbar, to try to get enough strength behind the parry to shove the blade away and get in a shot of her own, but — then, in turn, wherever her blade lands, there's his to meet it with another loud ringing of metal on metal. You would think those two swords loved one another, the way they keep kissing and singing out harmonies with one another for the crowd. For Hel's part, she finds herself backing off under the force of the onslaught, obviously wearying, but she puts up a fine last stand, managing past what most people in the stands would expect. Lasting long enough for some in the audience to want to go get a snack, maybe. Gosh, it seems like forever of sword and forever of dust before an upward two-handed swing is intercepted by a light blow just so to the back of her left elbow, bending her arm in the very opposite of the right direction. A feline yowl rises from her and her blade skitters in the dust, let loose from her fingers. And she drops to her knees, lifting her palms. Panting. Yield.

Aisan ends up waking up on his own after a little while. No it wasn't the medics dragging him away from the fight, or the smelling salts, or anything like that. Nope. Totally just his young constitution and… ok it was the smelling salts. He wakes up in time to see the last of the fight and then shoots a look over towards the stands to see if someone might be there still. See him not yield this time, but be truly defeated. A few blinks and then he looks away. Who does he look for this time? A certain white haired medic who told him not to fight. Maybe he can get away before she gets to him!

Thibault's expression turns a little confused at first, before his eyes lower for a moment and he looks back up at her with an apologetic smile. He isn't used to her using that tone with him, and he isn't used to losing, not like this. He takes her arm and let's her lead him towards the medic's tent. "I'm sorry…." He starts, his mind trying to find a way to explain why he didn't do better, but he simply shakes it off. No need for excuses. "She was simply better than me, today. They all were, he gives a look over his back towards the field, a movement that causes another heavy winch of his features. "Thank you." he answers to her words about having fought gallantly, his smile warming a bit but he obviously is NOT happy about his own performance here today. A quick glance then towards where Lady Isabelle has moved to her cousin Augustin. "I think he is in good hands, yes. " He nods to her, holding back a small chuckle that has him winch even more and catches his breath. "I'll be alright in a couple of days I think, but better let the medics have a quick look. Your concern is most appreciated." He is trying to play it cool, but he is likely hurt worse than he is letting on, if his troubled gait and slightly bent over posture is a sign of anything. "Looks like I'll have to try and win that kiss another way." He says, looking down to the lock of hair tied to his wrist and back up at her with an overly disappointed look that is ended with a smile.

A nod. Exhausted. Breathing a little labored from the long exercise. Belmont lowers his blade and offers Helisson a hand, to pull her back up to her feet. "Well fought.", he remarks with a weary smile. He looks over the tourney field, and then towards the benches where nobles watch the proceedings. His smile deepens and he closes his eyes. Waiting to let go of his sword until the herald makes his announcement. "And so La Grande Mêlée terminates. Last one standing is Lord Belmont Eresse Delaunay, Vicomte de Rognac."

Brushing her hands off, Gwenaelle finally moves to the tent's entrance to peek out, likely checking on any that might have decided to stand or sit outside to watch the rest of the bout. To the field her gaze swings, watching as two are left dancing back and forth. Neither are the young lord who the healer surprisingly have her favor to. And so, she turns to check on those nearby, finally seeing two walking towards her, "Glad to see he had someone to fetch him off the field." The words are spoken to Renauld as he helps his ward along.

Fenris watches this spar with bated breath. His eyes though widen slowly as it goes on and on. Each little bit of dodging skill form either of them causing him more and more stress. Though when Heli yields, he knows that she dropped hard. He doesn't run to her. He doesn't grab a tree and his Belmont. He waits. He needs to learn this cultured thing people talk about. He licks lips and takes a small step forward. His fists forms but he bows his head. He growls. If he tried to defend Heli's honor, she'd kill him. He glances over towards the healing tent and tilts his head. He shakes his head and heads that way.

Helisson grips Belmont's hand with hers, rising again and nodding her agreement, though the exertion has left her speechless. Or else she just doesn't speak. She pulls Belmont in with the hand she's clasping, drawing her other arm around him to give him a manly sort of half-hug, smacking him twice on the shoulder as though to keep it from being anything but a congenial expression of admiration for his skill. Then, parting from him, she goes to retrieve the blunted blade she accidentally threw over there.

Finally out of the tents, Matthieu makes his way out with his armor, a jacket over his shoulders to replace it and his platinum-blond head darkened with sweat. Accompanied by his Cassiline and their silk-clad childhood friend, they find the crowd just in time to hear the winner announced. There is no surprise, however - he had anticipated either Augustin or Belmont would take it, and so he applauds with the rest of the audience when the heralds declare him the victor.

Ailene shakes her head. "You needn't apologize!" she says to Thibault with a soft smile. "You were wonderful." She stands on tip toe and kisses his cheek, very quickly. She then blushes and giggles. "I was quite proud to have chosen you to favor." she assures him. She then hears her brother and Isa as they near. "Auggie!" she says. "Yes, it was amazing to watch!" she tells him. "You were awesome!" She grins at him. "Lady isa, well met!" she greets the other lady. Then, because they are here in the same place, she introduces them to Thibault. "This is Lord Thibault Charlot." she says to them. "Lord Thibault, this is my eldest brother, Lord Augustin Trevalion, Vicomte de Rouen." she says proudly. "And this is Lady Isabelle de Valais."

Eneas tugs at his helmet as Gwenaelle approaches, soon to have it off his head and letting it drop almost carelessly into the grass below. "Fetch me? Pfft. I could have walked, but what am I paying him for?", he boasts, only to get elbowed in the ribs by Renauld, which makes the man laugh-cough once more. "Careful, old friend. I am not sure that rib's still attached. What will you do if I croak here now?", he teases the man, before blue eyes turn back to Gwenaelle. "Seems your angel's favor took me far enough. Thank you again, m'Lady…". And then he moves to try to untie the ribbon, so he may return it.

As Matthieu steps out of the tent behind Gwen, Eneas gives the man a nod as well. "Hope I did not rattle your helmet too much?". Just ignore the irreverent grin.

Aisan takes to his feet and he goes to congratulate Belmont and Helisson with a handshake and a bow: "Congratulations on your victory my Lord." He says to Belmont with a smile: "And you are exceptional as well my Lady." He bows towards them both and then goes to start taking his armor off. Pieces of mail armor are taken off, helmet given to attendants, and he checks his stitches to see if any of them got torn. Safe!

Augustin snorts as the hand reached out to steady him. "Mmm, move like the storms or no, I broke upon the rocks. Perhaps my reputation was overblown. It will be more quiet if they assume that I'm not that good and it is all trumped up." He shakes his head. "No, give me a moment to steady myself and I will be fine." He looks over to his sister as she comes over with a gentleman. "I was alright. No legends born of me besting three at once today," he offers wryly. "A pleasure to meet you, Lord Thibault."

There's a nod to Gwaenelle, she who has been assisting in seeing to his extensive injuries since his return from the dead in the last month, and upon seeing the d'Ainglemort lord who nearly eliminated him with one blow, Matthieu gives him an acknowledging nod. It's curt, as he is with most strangers, but the sharp edges of the gesture are blunted by the way a sun-bronzed hand is offered to Eneas, palm up in offerance of a sturdy shake. The faintest hint of a smirk curls up on the corners of his mouth. "I've been rattled worse," he replies, and that, at the very least, is no exaggeration. "Well fought, as expected from Camlach stock."

There is a very unlady-like snort from Gwenaelle at Eneas' comment about his guard, though the words that follow it has her frowning, "I should look at your ribs and wrap them for you.." The offer of the favor back actually causes the young woman to blush a tad as she steps close enough to untie the ribbon from about his bicep, soon to tie the poor bedraggled thing in her hair once again. With Matthieu stepping forwards in answer to Eneas' comment, the healer steps back, allowing the two men to converse, a brow raised upwards upon hearing the comments shared.

Fenris stops and watches the hug from Heli and Belmont. He nods slowly. He lifts his usually quiet voice up. "You were amazing Heli!" His deep rumbling Skaldi accented voice carries, hopefully towards her. He turns and moves into the tent to look for his other target. His blue eyes scan the room as he pulls his leather jacket more tightly around his body. He looks nervous. He sees who he wants to talk to but he's talking to Lord of the Hair so he bows his head and stays by the door.

Belmont turns when Aisan addresses him, and his expression now is more of a lightness, the pleased smile of something having been achieved not quite successfully repressed. "Thank you," he replies to the d'Aiglemort. Unable to add more at the moment, his gaze sweeps towards the stands and the high benches again. "This certainly will be a day to remember.", is added in some afterthought. A faint flinch there, as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. "And to be felt, in the next couple of days. Companions."

The offered hand is taken by Eneas, the hand gripped firmly, but brielfy for the shake. "You had the reach, m'Lord. You had to go.". Simple as that. "Of course, in retrospect…", he glances over to Belmont briefly, "..I should have gone for that one. Next year, perhaps.". A faint grin, before he nods. "I was surprised to see you still standing after that hit.", he compliments the man in around about way about his endurance.

Still, at the snort from Gwenaelle, his blue eyes are drawn back to her, grinning. "I'll let you wrap those ribs in a moment, but only because I know you will not take no for an answer anyway.", he teases her, even as she ties the ribbon back into her hair. "I am not jesting. I think that first strike must have been guided by her. Admittingly, the good Lord…", he nods to Matthieu, "…was distracted, but still.".

Both her hands find one another as Isabelle applauds the last man standing, though there's a piercing whistle when she places thumb and index to her lips at Helisson's impressive showing. "A fine battle royale," she remarks. "And well fought by the lady." To Augustin's remarks, she affords him a smile. "Your reputation brokered an alliance of three which ultimately failed to fell you upon the execution of it. I doubt anyone else on the field would have done so well when faced with similar odds." There's a turn on slipped feet, cerulean silks swirling by the ankles when Ailene and her champion joins them, eyes gravitating, almost immediately, to the thong of phoenix-fire hair braided around the dark-haired lord's wrist. The accounting is brief, but noted by a woman whose eyes hardly miss anything. "The paramour!" she greets, her smile lifting higher on her lips at the introduction. "And here I was starting to think you were some magnificent dream. Well met, my lord de Charlot….and well fought. Having witnessed your cousin's victory a few days ago, I'm starting to suspect that martial prowess and a penchant for the exciting runs in your family."

Helisson gets her sword — well, not her sword, but the sword she was given for the exercise, at least. Looking up, she spies Fenris gesturing for her to head for the healers and she sort of wrinkles up her nose. For the most part, aside from the downward blow that shoved her to her knees and the one that bent her elbow oddly , she hadn't encountered anything too too earth-shaking in the way of a hit. Sure, her collarbone is throbbing, but does she really want to head that way? No. Still, she sort of saunters aimlessly, at least ending up where all the combatants are gathered to disarm and… disarmor? Fen calls out to her, and she gives him a grateful sort of smile, then — Aisan is also congratulating her. She looks maybe a little surprised, but pleasantly so. She dips her chin, offering out her arm to clasp his in that sportsmanlike gesture. "You, too, weh?" she answers him.

"Thank you." Aisan tells Helisson and Belmont but that done, he starts to make his way away from the celebrating pair and the entourages that are crowding the fighting ring now. Moving over towards a bench to sit down alone, he does just that. Accepting some wine from one of his attendants Aisan takes a drink and rubs at his bruises lightly with the fingertips of the hand not holding the glass of wine.

Thibault smiles at her kiss and her words, but it is one of those hard smiles, this time not from the pain but from potentially not agreeing completely with her words. He should have won, or at the very least done better, and while he has a newgrown respect for the woman that brought him down and out, it stings a little extra to have lost to her, on account of their first meeting. Then they're at the tent and he is being introduced. "Lord Augustin, Lady Isabelle, a pleasure and an honor to meet you both." Both received a small nod and a polite smile. He slowly reaches out a hand to Augustin, the pain from even the small movement clearly causing him some pain, but he manages to hide it somewhat, he thinks at least. He nods at Isabelle's words. "As far as legends go, I'm quite sure yours is solid enough to not be lessened by today's events." He then offers to Augustin. Isabelle receives a smile at the word 'paramour' and his eyes quickly flicker to Ailene for a moment before returning to the Valais Lady. "Thank you for the kind words, although I don't think I displayed much of any prowess today. And with my cousins victory the other day, I'm afraid I'll never hear the end of it." A small sigh at this, a sigh that is once again halted halfway by a winch. He notices when Fenris enters the tent. I mean, how could you not, the mans size taken into consideration and all. He gives the man a small, quick smile to let him know that he has noticed him and will speak to him once he is done with his current conversation.

"Paramour?" Augustin asks wryly, glancing at his sister. "Interesting, and certainly to be followed up with later," he offers. His tone is dry, but gently teasing. "You will have to join us for dinner some evening, my Lord. If I'm going to continue to be pounded in these competitions by Charlots, I should at least get to know them. Especially since I appear to not be the only one receiving a voluntary pounding from the family." Ok, now he is just messing with his sister.

There's a brief, but firm squeeze before Matthieu releases the d'Ainglemort lord's fingers. Remark upon the reach of his spear has his brows lifting upwards, and for a moment, there's a new and more assessing light directed Eneas' way. Irreverent grin aside, that single comment is enough to recalibrate the man's first impressions of the other. Though at the nod towards Belmont, there's a nod. "There's a reason why Augustin and I elected to go for him first, but the lad…" A glance to Aisan. "Pushed that plan aside. Not unlike any actual skirmish, I think, given its fluidity and the constant change in variables." His remark upon the hit he delivered has him lifting his shoulders in a shrug. "I was always a better cavalryman than I was a foot soldier," he admits. "And I'm accustomed to taking hits." There's a grimly humored twist to his lips at the last. "Still, you acquitted yourself well despite the major contenders in the field. You have the features of a d'Aiglemort, but I don't think you and I have met." He pauses, when Eneas addresses the lady priestess, observing the interplay between the two, but this, too, is brief.

"A minute. Only." Gwenaelle will concede to that with a nod of her own flame-topped head. With ribbon back in place, the smile reappears, "Good then.. I am glad to hear that it did you well." Having heard the announcement of the winner, she wonders of the lord, "How well did you fair?" She knows he wasn't either of the last two standing.

Ailene blushes bright red as Isabelle refers to Thibault as 'The Paramour'. The normally gregarious flame haired hellion goes extremely bashful. Her hand has dropped from Thibault's arm, to his hand now and she steps back, hiding shyly behind him, letting her long hair act as a curtain to shield her red face. She giggles and glances to Thibault. "I am not sure what is the proper term, My Lady." she murmurs, then giggles again. Then Augustin speaks. Her giggles stop and she /stares/ at him with wide grey-blue eyes, before suddenly laughing out loud! "I would assume that means you are in approval of whatever term Lord Thibault is?" she asks him, still laughing.

"He's a relative, my lord," the Valais lady remarks to Thibault, humor and mischief glittering in her eyes. "I'm certain it's written in the genealogical contract somewhere that shite must be slung whenever one of your own does well or poorly. Better to embrace it, I think, and find some way to dole it back like any proper duelist." With the younger lord's attention gravitating somewhere to the side of her, she follows it to the mountainous, feral looking man that has just entered, brows winging upwards. Though before she can comment on Fenris' presence, she is utterly derailed by the sheer surprise on her features at the following. Dark eyes round and widen at Augustin's remarks towards his sister, though Isabelle manages not to drop her jaw at the words from the older man's lips. Her lips press together. Her eyes dampen with telltale sting of unmistakable tears…

…as she tilts her head back, and laughs along with Ailene, assailed with the kind of deadly throes that often accompanies gales of humor when one is caught completely unaware. One hand folds over her waist in an effort to steady herself, a hand lifting to bury her face against it.

Eneas nods his head at Matthieu. "Alas, I was not invited to the planning session.", he jests easily enough. "And I had not the benefit to know their reputation in advance, so I had to think on my feet.", he admits. Still, when he mentions not knowing him, he ohs! "Oh, I was hoping Lady Merliot here would introduce us and cover my legendary horrible manners, but alas, she failed me.". Oh, yep, he threw Gwenaelle under the carriage there. And quite intentionally, if the grin he sends her way is any indication. "Eneas d'Aiglemort. I am the son of Baron Bertrand de Beaune. Though I have been away on other business for…", he pauses, glancing at Renauld for a moment, and the companion offers easily enough "…Over eight years." back to his employer. For a moment Eneas tilts his head. "Really? Eight? Well.". A glance back to Matthieu. "I suppose that would explain it. I just arrived back in Terre d'Ange last month, really.".

At the question of Gwen, Eneas ohs softly. "I believe I was the last one standing before those two?", he indicates Belmonte and Hellison. "Of course, only because cousin Aisin sacrificed himself for me.". He almost keeps a straight face about that.

Fenris hears the conversation between Thibault, Lord of the Hair, and Ailene and confusion is written all over his face. The giant goes absolutely still as he tries to figure out exactly what's going on. Though as Ailene takes Thibault's hand, he bows his head and leaves the tent. He moves to find Heli. The large man seems rather distracted so finding the small blade is hard for him because he's already lost. He moves off towards the city.

Aisan chuckles at Eneas and calls out: "I am just glad I was able to outlast my main opponent! I had no idea that Lord Belmont was as dangerous as he is. I had seen Lord Augustin fight at the duels and thought him the most dangerous on the field." He stands up and walks over towards Eneas, Matthieu, and the others: "Lord Aisan Desrouches d'Aiglemort, Vicomte de Dijon." He introduces himself with a formal bow that is precisely, precise. Straightening up he smiles wryly: "It was a good fight, I lasted longer than I thought I was going to being already injured when I took the field."

Thrown under the carriage? Gwenaelle? Hmmph! Eyes narrow slightly upon the d'Aiglemort, but no comment is given, the healer allowing him to make his own introductions. She does take the time to look about, making sure the various contestants are being seen to by other healers and no one needs her immediate help. Turning back to the conversation, she ohs upon hearing how well that Eneas did in the melee, "That is not bad at all, even if you were not the last standing." The top three is pretty good out of the crowd that started!

Helisson stands there among all these people socializing, not really sure what to do with herself, anything she ought to say, or even where to look. It's all a little overwhelming outside of the well-internalized rules of battle, and she just keeps her gaze at that neutral middle-distance, putting away her blunted sword and lifting a hand to decline a healer's tending, even if she makes all kinds of weird sneering faces trying to get the armor off of her sorely bruised and swollen collarbone. Her tunic beneath is drenched in sweat, and she pulls it away from her person, fanning herself with an influx of air from below that then whiffs out her sweatstink from the armsleeves, cooling her pits and making her sigh in relief. Finally, she thinks it best to just tell everyone, "I gotta piss," in a sort of flat, awkward tone. It serves as well as a good-bye, I suppose, in terms of nobody bothering her when she wanders off to find Fenris. "Fen. Fen. FEN. FEN."

He doesn't smile, but there's a spark of subsumed humor that flares from within the depths of those ice-and-silver eyes. There's a brief glance at Gwenaelle is ruthlessly thrown under the wheels of said carriage, before Matthieu's attention returns to Eneas…and Aisan now as well, when he moves to join them. "We'll invite you next time," is the dry, but genuine promise. Still, with the introduction taken in stride, his head dips in a shallow bow. "Matthieu de Rocaille," he delivers straightforwardly to both lords. "Firstborn and heir of the Duc de Siovale. Seems the both of us have been away from the land of our birth for quite some time on top of it, Lord Eneas." There's a long, assessing look towards the battlefield they've just left. "…I can't help but wonder what that says about us when one of the first things we do upon arrival is position ourselves to get trounced so thoroughly." Quips are rare for the man, this delivered with his usual, deadpanned tone - indicative enough that despite the new bruises and how the fight went for him, the man is in very good spirits. Must be all the endorphins! To Aisan, there's a faint smirk. "You dodged me well. As for Sir Augustin, I've known him for years, and we served at the border together. You were right to approach him cautiously."

The words from Augustin to his sister aren't lost on Thibault, but unlike Ailene he doesn't break out in laughter but smiles, not able to fully hide his reaction to the humor. He gives her hand a squeeze and sends her a knowing, slightly questioning look as she moves to partially hide behind him. Then he looks back at the man with as much of a serious face as he can with the two women laughing loudly next to him. "I think paramour normally implies something illicit, but…I guess that works." A beat. "And yes, that would be lovely. Joining you for dinner, I mean. I'd very much like to get to know more of Aily's family, she speaks so highly of all of you." He isn't even gonna comment on the joke, not knowing what to say. He gives Isabelle the best shrug he can manage with his injuries and still wearing his armor. "Yes, I guess you're right, I just haven't been used to it much so far." A slightly defeated smile at the words but the mirth in his voice reveals he isn't taking it too hard, probably. OR is pretending not to, at least. He notices Fenris leaving and seems a bit confused at this, but turns to the others again after getting a note of which direction the man is heading. "If you'll excuse me for a moment, there's someone I need to talk to. I'll be back shortly." He says, before letting go of Ailene's hand, bends down to give her a kiss on the cheek and offers a polite nod towards Augustin and Isabelle. Then he moves with fast, troubled steps in the direction that he saw the large man leave, hoping to catch up with him.

Ailene follows Thibault's gaze over to Fenris. She bites her lip to keep from smiling, and nods to Thibault when he excuses himself. She does stop him for a quick moment, whispering something to him before she lets go of his hand and then watches him depart. She turns back to Isabelle and Augustin. "I think I am shall head home now." she says, stifling a yawn. "I am so tired!" Her eyes flutter, sleepily. "That was exhausting to watch!"

Fenris turns when he hears Heli calling for him and starts to head back to her voice. He grumbles a little and calls out to her like cat…echo locating it's food provider. "Heli!" He hollers towards her. As he moves closer, another voice and that voice causes him to look towards the tent. He sees Thib and he actually growls at him, kicking dirt towards the man as he moves the other way looking for Heli. "Heli." He is now growling into the air. His boots digging into the dirt as he passes.

Augustin grins at the reaction that he pulls from his sister and from Isabelle. He thn grins a little bit to Ailene. "You don't need my approval, dear; you get to spend time with whomever you want and find what happiness you may. But I approve you finding it, an treasuring it when you have it."

Helisson even smiles when Fen finds her, holding still so as not to lose him, a hand raised so that he can keep track of her while he makes his approach. Then, arms swatting down to her sides, as though dusting the outer sides of her trouser legs, she opens up her mouth to say something to him — only for him to walk straight past her. Mouth closed. Flat line.

Aisan smiles at Matthieu: "I would greatly appreciate that my lord. It is… an interesting time to find myself in Marsilikos. I arrived on the day of the Archery competition. It is clear I will need to up my game to have hopes of winning the next Tournament next year." He laughs softly, smiling wider afterwards.

The pointed look at him from Gwen? Eneas mostly ignores it if not for the faint quirking of his lips upwards. Surely the man must know that those bound ribs later will be bound just that little too tight in retaliation? Ahem. Still, as Matthieu introduces himself, mercenary ohs lightly. "I see. Well, I am pleased to make your acquaintance, then.", he offers, amused. "As for what they say? Ah. Depends on the weather, I suspect. And the company. One day it will be how brave it is to face such opposition, the next it will be how silly to risk it.", he gives a shrug at that. "Gossip is like the weather. It passes if you wait long enough.".

Thibault does notice the kick of dirt and the expression sent his way from Fenris, but he isn't sure how to interpret it. It's Fenris, after all, it could mean 'meet me over yonder' for all that he knows. And so, unperturbed he continues to approach the man. He looks a bit confused and even halt's his steps for a second as the large man calls out Helisson's name and then continues to walk straight past her, just looking weirdly towards the two for a moment before continuing. "Fenris!" He calls out as much as he can with his injuries, trying to catch up with the man, moving towards Helisson as well as she seems to be looking for him too. Maybe she can help get his attention, he was shouting her name, after all.

"A fine idea, I think," Isabelle tells Ailene. "There are days of festivities yet, and as I'm often fond of saying during times of great bacchanalia, it's a marathon, not a race." She somehow maintains a straight face at her following words: "It's important to pace oneself in order not to miss anything absolutely interesting. Still, I'm certain I'll see you in the other events soon enough."

Gwenaelle just gives Eneas THAT look again, but seems content to listen to the men talk, making note of the names introduced with the third joins the group. She does glance up when Fenris walks out of the tent, heading off, brows furrowed a little in thought. He doesn't seem to need any healing, so she doesn't check up on him, soon distracted by the conversation. "Indeed, what does it say?" She dares to query the trio in turn, "That you all are stubborn, perhaps?"

Gemma is sad that she missed most of the competition but she has a feeling she saw the most lively of the matches. She sees Ailene and her companions in the distance from where she is. She waves a hello but turns to head away, the crowd keeping her from heading in that direction.

Fenris turns again at the yell for his name and when he turns, how did Heli get there. He moves over to her and glances down at her. He reaches for her arm and grumbles a little. He keeps checking her over but it's clear his eyes are not focused. He's just trying to keep himself distracted from the other that's there. He even checks behind her ear before stepping back and grumbling. "Need little heal." He bows his head slightly and frowns. He doesn't look to Thibault.

"And may I inquire what business brings you to Marsilikos? It seems that your arrival is well-timed. The Lady of Eisande has never disappointed when tournament season falls upon Terre D'Ange," Matthieu remarks, his attention drawn to the swift, young lord who has managed to evade the swipe of his polearm, reminded of the injury on his leg - Olivia was right, it was too early to push, but he hadn't doubted her opinion or Gwenaelle's diagnosis either. To Eneas' courtesies, the ducal heir nods in acknowledgment, a lock of white-gold hair falling across his brow, clinging there due to the humid sheen that clings to his skin. "Same," he returns. "But an astute observation nevertheless." He would say more, but the humored chastisement from the priestess has him angling his head in her direction. There is a pause, and without lifting his scrutiny of her, asides towards Eneas: "I suppose," he begins. "That you get this a lot."

There is a subtle change in Ailene's expression. She is smiling, but it is plain she is contemplating something. It is also plain to see that she is very tired. She nods a farewell to her brother and to Isabelle. "I shall you both later!" she says to them and gives Auggie a hug. "You were wonderful, big brother!" she says, very proud of him. She takes her leave, but spots Gemma on the way out. Smiling ever so brightly, she heads over. She offers her whispered words, but doesn't stay, a yawn escaping her lips.

Helisson draws her arms up to cross over her chest, only to have the gesture of displeasure make her eyes water as she crosses them over the spreading welt from that blow that knocked her down. She eyes Thibault as he comes to join her, then eases her arms down to her sides once more, unsure why he's doing so and angling her features to greet him in an expression caught between a smile and a snarl. Like a long-abused dog afraid to trust when there's not the etiquette of the field of tourney or the wilder rules of warfare to fall back on, but — he was a good man to fight against, so she's willing to put at least some trust there. She gives up her attempt to navigate the social niceties of expression, opting for a respectful nod of greeting before Fen has found her and takes her arm, making her yalp. That's her twisted arm. "Weh, check 'at," she agrees, drawing the top of her tunic away from her neck to show Fen where her collar bone has seen better days, all puffy and angry red in the preface of what will be an epic bruise. She's got her breasts bound, beneath, so she doesn't flash him at the same time, much, one can suppose, to Fen's relief. She opens her mouth to say something else, but then sort of remembers Thibault is here, too, and she chews over the words and swallows them back down, settling for, "Jes well, tho'," she demurs, in re: going back to the healing tent.

Gemma gives Ailene a hug and a kiss to her cheek before drawing away with a nod, "Sure, I can do that." she smiles as she draws back, "I got here late, work ran over. I'll talk to you later, get some rest."

Thibault approaches and finally catches up with Fenris and Helisson. With Fenris still having his back to him, he first gives Helisson a small nod as he approaches. "Thank you for the bout, you fought well today." he then says before reaching an arm to put it on the shoulder of the large man. "Fenris.." Thibault says in a lower, questioning voice. "Are you alright? I'm sorry I haven't been in touch since last we spoke, but I was expected to attend the opening feast the following day and I have been rather occupied with family matters for much of the time. And to be fair, you are not an easy man to find." The last said with a little bit of humor.

Aisan's attention falls on Matthieu: "My father passed on somewhat recently and since inheriting the Vicomte I have been taking a trip to learn and meet my peers." He explains with a gesture around to indicate everyone: "I had saved the best for last, so to speak, as this was my last stop on my trip before returning back to Dijon." A wry smile touches his lips and a shoulder is lifted in a shrug: "I have time, the people who run things are still there to make the day to day decisions. I will have to return eventually but I wish to remain for some time. I feel I have hardly had the time to experience Marsilikos and give her the attention she deserves. I am also waiting for the next Ducal court so that I can give proper introduction."

As Gwen fires back, Eneas's blue eyes light up in delight. You'd think that after the smacking around he got at the hand of — well, half the field! — he'd had enough of picking fights, and yet perhaps it is the trace of the angel's blood in the young lord that reveals itself that he is eager to engage in another kind of battle with the red-headed priestess right away. Being called stubborn, he chuckles, and if she is not careful, he'll reach for one of her hands, to lift it for a hand-kiss, all proper like, before commenting. "From the good Lady Merliot here? I believe she accused me of such before, yes.". Only then does he turn to glance at Matthieu, while letting the hand lower again, though unless she tugs it free, does not let go of it. "Of course, some would say, you have to be one, to know one…", he claims. "Why, your future Grace, has she slandered your force of will as such before?". Yep, he is not above stoking the fires further, either. Troublemaker? Eneas? Neeeeever. The question aimed at Aisan makes Eneas tilt his head, and he once again ohs faintly, the humor fading a touch from his features. "I am sorry to to hear, cousin. My condolences.". Yep, the returned d'Aiglemort is still playing catchup on more recent events.

Fenris checks her collarbone and he nods his head slowly. "Fix later." He grumps to her. His hand lightly resting on her shoulder before pulling off. Then he feels the other man touch him and he growls and spins around. His fists balls up and he stops himself from doing anything. "No." He growls out. "You with another. Leave." He snaps his fingers and points to the healing tent. "Leave." He seethes out between his teeth. "Trust you gone. Go." He turns to Heli and looks at her carefully. "Home?" He speaks softly to his sister. "Make salve fix pain."

Oh, that look remains, even as Eneas tries to sweet talk her in such a way with that kiss to her hand. She watches him, as if to see just which way he is going to take things. And yet her gaze flicks to Matthieu, perhaps surprised by that aside comment from the lord, enough that even after the kiss to her hand, she doesn't immediately draw it away from Eneas' hold. "If any of you have not heard it before, then I am certain that you will hear it in the near future. " She doesn't explain her words further, for each of them - well, maybe not Aisan - know /why/ she would say that to them! MEN! Hmmph! Likewise, however, whatever she might have been tempted to say, is set aside in favor of offering her own words of condolences to Aisan the Unknown, "Mine as well. You and your family will be in my prayers."

Aisan's news about his father is enough to draw visible storm clouds over Matthieu's largely stoic mien, pale brows drawing down his proud profile. "Lord Alfonse has passed?" It's difficult to keep the surprise from his voice…and some degree of disconcertion. It felt like an eternity, but from history's perspective, three years is not that long of a time - the fact that things have changed so swiftly and not just in Siovale, but in other provinces as well is enough to give him pause. The changing of the guard is everywhere, it seems. And didn't the Rousses suffer the loss of an heir recently, too? There's a brief shake of his head, a physical effort levied to rid his mind of its perpetual, political calculus. "My condolences, Vicomte. I hope your visit here will be a fruitful one. I've been years removed from Marsilikos, myself, but its charms are those I remember well - and those are many."

There's an angled look towards Eneas, already engaged in his next duel, though when he asks about Gwenaelle's slander, he provides: "She has indeed, and did so by preemptively warning me of the possible loss of my leg should I not heed her words. But I was never one to turn away from good advice, and let it heal in the allotted time she dictated. I trust she didn't need to know me well to give that warning to make sure that I listened to her."

"Thank you all for your thoughts and prayers." Aisan says with a bow of his head, dipping his chin to his chest solemnly. Looking back up Aisan focuses his attention on Matthieu again: "Yes it was a wasting illness that we could not find the cure for. It lingered at first, just a cough, but then when it took him the end was fairly sudden. He degraded quickly it was unfortunate." His lips press into a thin line: "There was nothing that could be done, we tried. It is the way of things though, people do inevitably pass. I am just glad I had the opportunity to make right our relationship before he went. I was hoping I could win one of these events for him but it was not to be. Next year. I shall have to make sure to attend if I leave before then." He smiles a little more to Gwenaelle: "I do apologize, I don't think I have caught your name or had the pleasure to be introduced my Lady."

"Weh," Hel assents to being tended to later — in camp, with Zef and Fen where she belongs. Feels safe. This strange dynamic between Tibbles and Fen… it makes her upper lip curl slightly in confusion, putting her a little on edge, as if she might have to punch one of them but she's not sure which, yet. Tibs seems to be acting nice to Fen… but she has been burned often enough in the past by people who act nice but are actually being mean. And with her… peculiarities, it's hard for her to tell. She tends to trust Fen, who's proven himself in devotion to her and to Zef… but she knows he can be as clueless as she is. Zef is the one with the social skills figured out. Hel just wishes she were here to sort this out. "Aw right," she just answers Fen when he offers to take her back to camp, though she gives Tibs a long, searching sort of stare with those dead red eyes of hers, like she's still trying to figure it out, and might almost be on the verge of an apology or trying to speak up for the guy.

Thibault's posture rises fully, a heavy grimace on his face from the pain it causes him, when Fenris spins around, bringing his one arm to wrap around his ribs with the winch. He doesn't ball up his other fist or act aggressively, but he stands his ground firmly, looking the man in the eyes. "No! I told you last time that me being with Ailene doesn't mean I can't be with and help you, that is NOT an excuse." His gaze softens a bit, even a hint of slight worry in his features. "You told me that we should try and understand each other and not act on things we think we know. Don't tell me that you have lost trust in me because I have affections for someone else, obvious as they might be. I do not accept that. Tell me what is really wrong, and I will explain to you as best I can." He gives a look to Helisson as if for help, a slightly confused look as he really is not sure what is wrong here, not fully.

Fenris jaw tightens. "You not say you with her." He points towards the tent. He stares at Thib and his eyes glass over slightly. "Be used all life. Want one thing that mine." He touches his own chest lightly. "You not say you…" He shakes his head and steps back away from Thib. "Was happy for hope in future. Alone again." He wraps his arms around himself and turns to Heli with his head bowed. The giant's shoulders slumping forward as he takes on a very subservient posture.

A wasting sickness - the only good thing about what he hears is the fact that the end was mercifully swift. Give him a dagger to the heart any day, than to endure that kind of prolonged suffering. There's a displeased twitch on the hard line on Matthieu's mouth upon hearing it, and something passes over his eyes at the mention of Aisan's well-timed reconciliations with his father; it ends with a barely audible sigh. "There's plenty of room for improvement," the future duc tells Aisan. "You're very young yet. I assume not even twenty? You've yet to truly hit your stride." His attentions turned to the redhead, he gestures in between the two. "This is Gwenaelle de Mereliot, Priestess of Eisheth."

Well, there goes the lighthearted teasing and sparring. Eneas merely shakes his head a little, the hand in his given a brief squeeze before he lets go of it voluntarily, even. "Indeed. All things have to die eventually.", he finally offers, perhaps a touch morbidly and a touch cynically, but at least his features seem to show he does not mean it with any malice. Just a matter of what he witnessed so far. With the introduction of Gwen to Aisan, Eneas gives another nod. "One of the most skilled healers in the City. Even if rather strict.". Okay. So there is a bit of teasing still.

The squeeze that is given to her hand earns one in return before it's let go. Offering a soft sigh, Gwenaelle dips her head as her name is given, "Sometimes, it is their time to go." This she has come to know all too well in her years as a healer within Eisheth's temple. The praise offered has her cheeks warming with a blush, only the following words to bring a slight roll of her eyes, "I am strict because you men are stubborn, often refusing to listen to good reason." She's got her reasons for being strict! "Thankfully there are some.." She nods to Matthieu, "Who do listen, even if we must scare them to do so."

The great thing about Fen is that his emotivity is utterly unambiguous. There is nothing like a giant ol' slump of the shoulders to emote SAD in big-assed letters in the air over Fen's head, big and bright enough that even the emotion-blind Hel goblin can read it. "You're hurting him," she lifts up her voice, but without the harshness, quite, of an accusation — it's more to let Thibault know, in case he missed it — he is looking to her for guidance, after all — but there's a sense of alarm, there, no less. "Fen — wat — you wanna fak this guy?" she intuits from the conversation and sets it out there, rather plainly, and without any sort of social niceties to cover it up.

Thibault looks towards the tent when Fenris points to it, before looking back. "I wasn't last we met, or I would have made it clear then. You said that you want to understand the culture of Terre D'Ange better, well this is one of the things that differs from most other places. We're a little more….open to sharing what we love, you could say. We don't limit ourselves if more than one catches our affections. I guess I did not consider that you wouldn't know, or understand." He takes a step closer to Fenris again, a little to the side of him. "You don't have to be alone, but I can't make that choice for you. I want to help, but you need to /help me/ understand." A beat. "If you want me to go, say the words and I will go." He looks to Helisson with a slightly apologetic look. "I really don't mean to."

"It is a pleasure to meet you Lady Gwenaelle, Priestess, I am not sure on the proper mode of address." Aisan chuckles softly: "I shall definitely keep your talents in mind so long as I keep getting beat up like this." A dip of his chin again in a nod: "It was an honor and a pleasure to meet all of you but I fear I must be off. Hopefully when next we meet, it will not be over the battlefield hmm?" He smiles and bows again before he starts to head off.

Fenris winces when Heli just straight up calls him on his pain. He has a momentary question of how she reads him so well. Then she asks if he wants to fak Thib. He lifts his eyes and looks to her. "Have family. Don't have second half of heart." He touches his chest. "Trying find." Then Thib goes into his explanation and he winces and bows his head. "No like …culture here." He grumbles. "Hate Ailene. Take take." He growls. Second time in his mind she's taken from him. "Just want make happy but not enough." He wipes his eyes. "Go her. She win all anyway. I take care family." He moves behind Heli. "Stay alone. Worth alone." He grumbles to Heli. "Home?"

"Only a fool would be afraid to listen to good sense, especially when the repercussions of not doing so are serious enough, and not to recognize it when presented," Matthieu replies to Gwenaelle at her nod, and while his low baritone remains neutral and devoid of much expression, that air of subtle and sardonic humor returns, if not just around the eyes. With the Vicomte making his exeunt, his own eyes lift past the rest of the collective, to catch sight of his Cassiline, Gabriel de Montreve, tapping the back of his wrist with index and middle finger, and the unidentified courtesan in white that stands near him, veiled and obscured of face as she is. "It appears I'm needed elsewhere," he remarks, a shallow bow of the head directed to priestess and Eneas both. "I'll leave you two to enjoy one another's company. Until next time." With that, and if there's nothing else, booted feet will stride towards the company of his childhood friends.

And just like that Eneas is left standing alone with Gwen, the two Lords abandoning him. Well, okay, so Renauld is at his side to defend him from the evil Priestess. A hint of amusement flits over Eneas features as he watches the white-veiled courtesan and Matthieu depart together, though the source of the amusement perhaps not easily guessed.

"Well.", he says, eyes turning to peer back to Gwenaelle. "I suppose that was that.".

Bidding the lords goodbye as they each make their departure, Gwenaelle watches them leave, likely making sure that both are actually well enough to do so. Eventually, her attention returns to Eneas, that hint of amusement caught upon his face. Curious is she, a brow arched upwards, "yes?" Not sure what exactly has amused him so. Surely it wasn't she? As for his words, she nods, "I believe so, yes.." For the most part, it would seem that the healers have seen most of those that were injured, only a few still lingering at the tents, most of the nobles heading off.

Thibault watches Fen as he addresses Helisson, his eyes dropping to the ground for a moment at the words. "I'm sorry, if I had known I would not have said what I did to you. Really. a short pause. "She didn't mean to hurt you any more than I did, I hope you can believe that. She has been rather encouraging about the whole thing, truthfully. She views you as a friend and doesn't want to take anything from you, I don't think she knows how you feel about this any more than I did until now." Then he moves behind Helisson, and he gets a defeated series of small nods from Thibault. "Ok, if that is what you want. But I hope you change your mind, if you do, I'll be there. I really hope that you don't have to feel alone and that you'll find what you're looking for, I mean that." He gives a look of regret to Helisson. "I really am sorry, I didn't mean to cause any pain, quite the opposite in fact."

Helisson pinches her lips together and twists them to one side, either unimpressed by the back and forth or simply having reached her daily limit of trying to process this sort of thing. When Fen calls out Ailene, though, it draws her back in, giving her a point of contact with the narrative. "She's so mean," she mutters in agreement, sounding — almost more hurt than angry. She looks back up to Fen, shrugging her shoulders and then dipping her head in assent when he tries to herd her off. She was going to ask him if he wanted a tumble— fighting always kind of makes her horny. But all this nonsense has kind of ruined that thrill of a buzz in her nethers, and now she's just tired and sore and would rather have a nap. She lifts a shoulder to Thibault, not sure how to take his apology, so just accepting it at face value, but with that dead-eyed stare of neutrality that might well show she's retreated from the topic entirely. "Weh," she vocalizes her usual sort of staid answer.

A shake of his head is given back to Gwen at her question. "Oh, just someone I met in passing.", he explains, though he chuckles at that choice of voice himself. A brief glance is given to the huddle of Fenris and Helisson and Thibault, before he gives the Priestess another glance. "I guess I should get out of the maille and back home, hm? Before you decide to scare me with your treatments?". With that he finally pushes off from Renauld to walk into the tent. Stubborn? Him? Showing that he could have walked the distance? Neeever. Just ignore the slight wince, right?

Fenris looks at Thib and shakes his head. "Glad know…you no mean yes." He grumbles. "She hurt me twice." He points out. "She busy be happy bouncy crush me underfoot. Used to it. Slave after all." He grumbles out. "You both stab me." He points out. "Laugh from tower, be happy." He grabs Heli and throws her over his shoulder like a fireman. "My family. I honest. I no hide. MY FAMILY." He growls at Thib and lightly shakes the smaller Heli on his shoulder. He turns and walks away from Thib leaving Heli to just stare at him.

"Hmm." Gwenaelle will offer back in turn to Eneas before the lord decides to take himself to the tent. "Scare you? Somehow I do not think that tactic would work." He's beginning to know her too well! Turning, she follows him off into the healer's tent, prepared to see how badly his ribs might be cracked, "Though I would hope you would heed what I say at least a little?" The last words that might be heard from the redheaded priestess.

Thibault just stands there, listening to the words. He doesn't know what to say, every word from his mouth just seems to hurt or infuriate Fenris more and more. Maybe it's better to just shut up for once, even if it's hard. So very hard. He's being accused of lying, stabbing and wanting to laugh at him 'from his tower', none of which are true in his mind, but it doesn't seem like he can convince the other man of that. A sigh as Fenris turns and walks away with Helisson on his shoulder, leaving him standing there for a moment. He finally doffs his armour, which he'd been wearing through all this, leaving it where it hits the ground and starts walking towards the medics tent for a quick checkup before heading home, clutching his side.

Helisson gives a loud squawk when she's hefted up and carried, but she doesn't struggle. Just punches Fen once, weakly, about at the level of his kidney, like any annoyed sister might do, before she goes limp and just lets him carry her off, eyes flickering toward closed. So sleepy.

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