(1310-09-10) Marsilikos Tournament: Horse Race
Summary: The Horse Race competition of the Marsilikos Tournament.
RL Date: Mon Sep 10, 2018
Related: Marsilikos Tournament
antoine audrialla eneas evelyne isabelle isla jelene olivia theodosia 

Marsilikos Hippodrome — Eisandine Countryside

In honour of the ancient Hellenes and Eisande's own history of horse-breeding and rearing, the Marsilikos Hippodrome stands apart from the city in a reclaimed marsh. Stony terraces march down to the sea on the windswept site, holding back the waves pummeling the low-lying coast. Tough salt-resistant grasses and flowers cluster along the rocky fringes of the wide oval space. At first glance, the place resembles nothing so much as an untended field surrounded by a complex of weathered rock walls hemming in none too productive fields. But a seasoned eye may distinguish the lime-traced oval track at a distance, and the neat avenues slicing ruler-straight through the grassy mound. Clearly a favourite for riders to launch into galloping runs pell-mell over the flat ground, clods of earth and divots provide some level of hazard.

Here every spring and fall, the greatest horse fair in Terre d'Ange gathers and transforms the hippodrome into a sea of tents and Tsingani carts. The fields marked by rough stone walls become pens for yearlings and adult horses for trade and barter, the whole of it lively and wild. During races in the season, crowds throng the sides of the track and wooden stands spring up like mushrooms after the rain to accommodate immense crowds drawn by the sport.


The weather is warm for the late summer season, a faint breeze bulging banners and tearing at them where they have been planted to the far end of the hippodrome. The stone of the steps has been made more comfortable by woollen blankets, and here and there canopies have been raised to offer some shelter from the afternoon sun. A veritable crowd has gathered and now sits scattered upon the terraces that frame the hippodrome. There is an area for nobility, where servants and handmaids see to providing the lords and ladies with drinks, refreshing chilled white wines and more temperate reds, handed along with small baskets of bake rolls filled with cheese and seasoning herbs.

The gazes of many are directed downwards, to the center of the hippodrome, where horses, bridled and saddled, are stomping lightly upon the dirt ground. Those wishing to take part in the horse race, standing beside them, offering them an apple or merely a few murmured soothing words. The call has yet to come, from the herald, for the riders to mount and prepare.

The course is of oval shape, with obstacles having been prepared and setup, to add a certain challenge to seasoned riders. There is a puddle, running across the width of the race track, about 4 feet of muddy water there to brave. And a second obstacle awaits, just after turning at the obelisk at the other end. A few bales of hay that have been arranged in a line and require a sound jump for the horse to brave.

Isla is here with the intent to race it would seem. The blonde lady known as the Golden Rose of Cherevin has her golden hair up in a loose bun with a few strands framing her face. Her riding gown is black with golden roses embroidered onto the skirt and a golden brooch with the House Cherevin Crest on it worn at the squared neckline of the gown. Her boots are also black and complete the Cherevin themed riding outfit nicely. On her wrist one might notice a flash of red if they look close enough, a red favor with tiny golden dragons embroidered on it. The horse she is riding today is her pitch black mare Eydis. The solid black steed is freshly groomed, her dark coat gleaming softly in the light. A few golden colored beads have been worked into the mare's mane for extra flare as well. Both rider and horse look relaxed, calm and comfortable as though used to such things and accustomed to working with each other. Isla stands near Eydis stroking the mare's neck gently and receiving a soft nuzzle in return as they wait for the call to mount up.

Standing by his horse, Antoine smiles to the animal as he speaks quietly with it. He turns to look around at the various other people present, studying the ones he will be competing with rather carefully.

Knowing how to ride is one thing. Knowing how to race another. That counts both for rider and the horse, right? So, one might wonder why Eneas and his war-horse are at the track. Neither have done anything like this for a long time, and surely neither are build for speed, to say the least. Not to mention Eneas still moving somewhat stiffly in the aftermath of that Grand Melee, a nice colorful bruise blooming on the side of his neck, and probably more hidden underneath his attire of white cloth and black leather.

Patting the side of the horse's neck, Eneas watches the other contestant with a amused look, before feeding it half an apple. "You'll get the other half if we don't come in last.". Yeah, like bribery will work in this case.

"Sweet spice bread, cheese croissants, raspberry tarts!?" The baker Audrialla walks the crowds with her tray of goodies for sale, exchanging coins with eager hungry hands. She spares the racers a glance and smiles at the peaceful (for now) horses.

Evelyne Somerville has come as well, her blonde hair worked into a braid that has been twisted and twirled at the back of her head as not to get in the way. She wears a riding dress, skirts slitted at the front revealing leather leggings she wears underneath. Green and white is the dress, and a faint scent of apples surrounds her. A scent that increases slightly the more time passes, and the closer they come to the time the race will start. The young lady pats the flank of her dapplegray palfrey, murmuring a few hushed words into the ear of the horse. She grins and giggles, a bit nervous perhaps. But intimidated? Never!

Theodosia walks towards the race track, holding the reins of her own horse, a slim white mare with a dark mane, the small , dark haired lady wearing a riding outfit today with tight breeches tucked into knee high boots, a cream shirt and a red hunting jacket. Her hair is cut short, leaving her face exposed, a riding crop hanging from her left wrist. She looks around, inclining her head to people she might know.

She is dressed for riding, just as comfortable in breeches as she is with here more elegant and feminine couture; black breeches that fit snugly and tucked under long boots that pull over the knee, a tailored blouse underneath a burgundy riding jacket with hems that go no further than past her hips. Rich midnight hair has been pulled in a braid and then coiled within itself, pinned with clips fashioned like the scattered petals of morning glories and set with one tiny crystal apiece. Isabelle's posture is straight, but easy, sitting astride upon a sleek black stallion of distinct Aragonian stock, marked only by a single white star in the middle of its forehead; Cazador was notorious in her father's stables for being spirited and stubborn, with a propensity to listen to only two people since he was a foal, and it shows with the way a hoof stamps impatiently upon hard-packed dirt once contestants start to gather at the starting line. A gloved hand reaches to pat her horse's neck in a soothing fashion. "A fine day for a ride," she murmurs, tilting her head back, face angled to catch the dying warmth of the summer on her lightly sun-kissed face, long lashes caressing her cheeks when she closes her eyes and savors the breeze, the precursors of the Autumn set upon it.

Cazador whinnies, and tosses his head back slightly, nostrils flaring as he snorts. His mistress leans closer to the back of his head, putting her lips closer to his flicking ears. "Don't worry, my darling, you get to run to your heart's content today," she murmurs, before she presses a kiss on the top of his head. As she straightens, she blinks as another horse comes closer, and a welcoming smile tilts her mouth higher at the corners. "Cousin," she greets Antoine. "To think I lost you to the more delicate charms of Salon Rose Sauvage, never to be seen again." Mischief glitters in her eyes. "It's good to see that you've managed to extricate yourself from the lady you've been courting."

Olivia comes, in the company of several others, to spectate at the spectacle of the horse race. She's dressed as ever in the white of her canon, her veils fluttering about her head. The party that she's with find for themselves a prime place upon the slope of the hippodrome's track upon which to best place themselves for a view of the race. Chatter between them is uplifted and rife, and there's a shake of Olivia's head to the question that's posed of her. "No. Though I do have a wager upon a particular person in this." She traps the flutter of her silks about herself as she settles where she sits, eyes scanning the numerous riders upon the horses where they gather.

The Duchesse of Eisande watches the proceedings from beneath one of those canopies, a warm smile gracing her features as she murmurs something towards one of her ladies. Armandine wears the blue and yellow colors of House Mereliot, and the ducal coronet sits upon her carefully coiffed hair. It is after all an official occasion.

Audrialla will find her tarts and goodies in great demand. Business is going smoothly when exciting entertainment soon to ensue seems to enhance the appetite.

A nod and a gesture of the Duchesse is caught by an attentive pair of eyes, and the herald raises his impressive voice to bellow across the field. "Your Graces. Lords. Ladies. People of Marsilikos. The race is about to commence! The competitors are to mount their horses -now- if they haven't done so already, and then bring their steeds towards the starting line! Await my signal. Anyone chasing ahead before this handkerchief touches the ground…" A hand lifts and wiggles a big white handkerchief in the air. "Will be eliminated from the contest due to disqualification."

After glancing briefly to her competition Isla hears the herald calling them to mount up. She swings gracefully into her saddle and settles into it with ease. A final pat is given to the black mare's neck. "Alright Eydis. Its showtime." She speaks softly to the horse who whinnies softly in excitement. Eydis seems to be a fairly calm and well trained horse but she also seems to know what is about to occur and seems to be growing a touch excited. Isla guides the mare into the starting position alongside the other horses and waits her eyes gleaming with excitement of her own. The golden haired lady holds the mare in check, Eydis not putting up much struggle at all despite the mare's growing eagerness to run free.

Theodosia mounts up and leads her mare towards the starting line, taking the lane assigned to her. The young woman pats the horse's neck, leaning in to whisper something in a muted tone. She looks around to see who else is racing, a sort of shy smile on her lips, as if she doesn't want to inconvenience people. She looks towards the Duchess, nodding.

Ooh! The time has come, and with her eyes wide in that obvious expression of nervous alertness, Evelyne swings herself into the saddle. Precious is the name of her dapple grey mare, and the young Somerville lady straightens as she gets settled, lifting her chin proudly, eyes glinting with a bit of mischief. A glance or two is given -male- competitors. Yes, Eneas and Antoine both get a -look- from Evelyne, and a wink, if they happen to look her way. Before she has Precious trot towards the starting line, just as the herald had instructed them.

Antoine is unable to hold back a chuckle as he hears Isabelle's words, offering a grin in return. "It's nice to see you taking time away from your big business as well, Isabelle," he greets her, rather lightly, before he grins. "Thought it would be fun to try this one. Hopefully it goes better than the melee event." Pausing at the announcement to mount up and move to the starting line, unable to hold back a grin. "Let's see how it goes…" Watching that handkerchief rather carefully, he catches the look and wink from Evelyne, and offers her a grin in return.

"Up we go…", Eneas keeps muttering at his steed, even while one boot goes into the stirrups and he lifts himself up a bit stiffly. And then off the two are at a leisurely gait towards the starting line. A nod of the head from the d'Aiglemort to those he might recognize by now from the earlier Tournament events, before he settles into his allotted spot, peering right, and left and chuckling to himself, especially after he has to gently push his horse back from sliding up to Evelyne. "Tsk! She just smells like apples, you stupid thing…", he comments, probably loud enough so it will carry to the lady. Ahem.

<FS3> Evelyne rolls Perception: Success. (7 6 5 6 6 4)

"You acquitted yourself well despite the big names in the field, cousin. We really should see one another more often than this." She winks over at him, a hand tugging on the handkerchief tied around her left arm, pale lavender and baby blue, and a small sprig of the blossom attached - her mother's favorite colors. Eyes that don't miss much of anything follow the smile directed the lady bride-to-be nearby, her head nodding towards her in acknowledgment. The rules called, Isabelle eases back against her saddle, dark-and-gold eyes falling on the handkerchief upon the herald's hand. Her fingers adjust the hold they make on her reins, the balls of her feet anchoring into her stirrups. She leans forward in readiness.

Jelene, her fiery red mane styled in two long braids, and dressed in dark blue riding breeches, a white lacy shirt and dark blue riding jacket, trots up to the starting line. She is riding a rare, full blooded Aragonian double pearl stallion. "Lady Isla, good day." she says to the blond woman. "Unfortunately, it seems by brother is not here to cheer us on."

The arm of the herald lifts, fingers holding onto a corner of the white handkerchief that flutters for a moment so picturesquely in the late afternoon breeze. Then suddenly it is let loose, a fluttering white piece of cloth, that drifts upon that same breeze until it slowly descends. Coming closer. Closer. To the ground, where it settles.

"Go!"

A roar comes from the spectators, some of them moving to stand as the race finally commences.

Audrialla cheers as OFF THEY GO! She whistles and claps for the spectacle of it, having no particular racer she favors.

Determining bonus for a good start of the race:
<FS3> Isabelle rolls Riding+presence: Great Success. (7 3 1 8 8 3 8)
<FS3> Evelyne rolls Riding+Presence+1: Good Success. (4 2 1 2 8 3 4 1 7 3)
<FS3> Theodosia rolls Riding+Presence: Good Success. (1 3 7 3 3 8)
<FS3> Isla rolls Riding+Presence: Good Success. (6 5 3 3 8 4 8 2 1 3)
<FS3> Eneas rolls Riding+presence: Good Success. (5 2 2 8 7 8)
<FS3> Jelene rolls Riding+presence: Great Success. (1 8 6 7 1 7 4 8 4)
<FS3> Antoine rolls Riding+Presence: Failure. (2 4 2 5 4 6)

<FS3> Isabelle rolls Riding+3: Amazing Success. (7 7 7 1 7 3 2 7 5 8 2)
<FS3> Jelene rolls Riding+3: Success. (2 6 5 1 4 1 3 1 1 4 8)
<FS3> Isla rolls Riding+2: Great Success. (1 7 2 1 4 1 8 8 6 5 6 8)
<FS3> Evelyne rolls Riding+2: Success. (5 8 1 1 6 6 6 4 6 3 6)
<FS3> Theodosia rolls Riding+2: Good Success. (8 5 5 1 8 3 5 4)
<FS3> Eneas rolls Riding+2: Success. (5 5 7 6 3 4 5)
<FS3> Antoine rolls Riding: Failure. (2 2 6 4 1 4)
Making sure, Antoine stays in the saddle and gets his horse back in line:
<FS3> Antoine rolls Riding: Good Success. (4 1 2 5 4 7 7)

Isla glances aside to Jelene with a gentle smile. "Hello Lady Rousse. Perhaps he is with us in spirit though?" The blonde suggests as she adjusts her grip on the reigns. Jelene might even catch sight of the ribbon tied about her wrists, a red ribbon with tiny golden dragons on it. But there is no time for further pleasantries as the handkerchief drops and Isla leans forward urging Eydis to take off. The black mare is all too eager to oblige taking off perhaps not as quickly as some of the other horses but still managing to put on a good show and stay near the front.

The remark of Eneas d'Aiglemort does not go unnoticed. The one he referred to, when speaking to his horse looks up and glances towards the Camaeline. "You are right," she counters with a smirk. "But your horse wouldn't have been the first to mistake me for an apple," is added with a giggle. Whatever that remark is supposed to mean. But there it comes, the sign of the herald, and Evelyne urges Precious on, whispering more encouraging words to her steed. But they are already in the middle of the race, and to Evelyne's dismay she is keeping to the latter half of the field.

Eneas chuckles at the remark back at him from Evelyne, and he leans over in his saddle to say something more quiet to the lady, before he rights himself just in time for the ball…err…hankerchief to drop. Well, the beast under Eneas is not quite used to dash off from the start! You pace yourself on the battlefield. And try to keep formations. So usually it is first a walk. Then a trot. Then a gallop. Then again, Poly is not quite as stupid as Eneas likes to pretend he is. When the rest of the field dashes off at full run, he is reasonably quick to pick up speed. At least to stay with the main pack.

The herald drops the handkerchief. "Vuelas, Cazador!" Isabelle cries, eyes burning with the challenge as her stallion takes off like a streak of black lightning from the starting line. She leans forward, fingers on the reins as she braces her feet into the stirrups to keep herself from falling. Dust kicks up at his hooves' wake as the powerful animal does what his mistress bids and flies, if such a big and sturdy thing actually could. She only controls her horse so far as she is able to keep him from nudging or shouldering the other competitors, though there is little chance of that - his lead is significant from the start and her smile pulls in a brilliant and unfettered grin, reminded of the early days of their companionship; of rolling hills, clear skies and open air, Guillermo's hawklike stare upon them as they run, and run, and run. Her tribute to her ill mother flutters from her arm and she buckles herself in further when the first set of obstacles approach, her heart pounding in her chest, adrenaline igniting the fires within her rushing blood. On top of her saddle, she burns, woman and beast streaking like a comet towards the puddle jump.

Theodosia spurs her mare, leaning over her neck as the horses dash in a sprint at the signal, the young woman is so small that she mustn't be a great burden to her horse…however she seems to lose a stride or two to some of the bigger horse. "Fly, my beauty.." she whispers , her eyes burning and her hand holding teh riding crop but not using it yet.

As the herald yells out go, Jelene lightly kicks her mount into a gallop. She starts off alright, but Lasy Isabelle, Lady Theodosia and Lady Isla soon pass her upon their mounts. She sees that dragon ribbon on Isla's wrist and grins, then gives Velour another nudge with heels. She leans low in the saddle, urging her horse with little clicks of her tongue. She, herself, wears no favor.

As the race starts, Antoine's horse moves forward, before it suddenly ends up moving in another direction entirely. It takes the rider all his skill to make sure he'll get the horse back in position. "It's okay, we can still beat them," he tells the animal, leading it forward now.

Audrialla is ignoring any of those calling for her treats. The race is hypnotic as the horses and riders become blurs. Except Antoine. She pouts sympathetically for him.

The riders and their horses are racing towards the first obstacle that is to be braved, a puddle filled with water that bars the way, unless… the horses would jump across.

Determine bonus for puddle jump:
<FS3> Isabelle rolls Riding: Success. (4 4 5 8 4 2 2 4)
<FS3> Eneas rolls Riding: Good Success. (8 8 4 7 1)
<FS3> Jelene rolls Riding: Good Success. (6 4 2 2 2 8 8 7)
<FS3> Isla rolls Riding: Great Success. (3 6 8 7 4 8 6 2 1 7)
<FS3> Evelyne rolls Riding: Success. (4 4 3 2 4 2 7 2 2)
<FS3> Antoine rolls Riding: Good Success. (2 4 7 8 6 6 6)
<FS3> Theodosia rolls Riding: Good Success. (5 4 5 3 8 7)

<OOC> Eisheth says, "Now… the next roll has a malus. +roll Riding (Good Success), +roll Riding+1 (Great Success) +roll Riding-1 (Success)"
<FS3> Isabelle rolls Riding-1: Failure. (3 5 5 6 5 2 6)
<FS3> Jelene rolls Riding: Good Success. (1 8 8 4 1 5 4 7)
<FS3> Antoine rolls Riding: Success. (1 3 6 8 5 3 6)
<FS3> Eneas rolls Riding: Good Success. (7 3 7 3 6)
<FS3> Evelyne rolls Riding-1: Good Success. (7 3 5 2 8 6 7 5)
<FS3> Isla rolls Riding+1: Good Success. (5 8 2 1 7 2 1 8 1 5 6)
<FS3> Theodosia rolls Riding: Good Success. (8 7 8 5 1 4)
Making sure, Isabelle stays in the saddle and gets her horse back in line:
<FS3> Isabelle rolls Riding: Success. (6 3 2 2 6 1 8 2)

Poly knows how to deal with obstacles! Eneas barely has to prompt the bigger horse to launch himself over the pond, and apparently it gave some of the other horses a moment of hesitation so he actually moves up in the pack. Well, all right. So not that much ahead, but apparently that bribe of promised apples helped! That, or Poly is just trying to keep close to that apple-smell of Evelyne. Either or!

It must be because it's just a puddle; Cazador is going too fast that he doesn't seem inclined to jump across it and rather splash through it. But Isabelle, unfamiliar with the depth of it, takes the reins and applies an assertive control of her horse - she tugs on the reins and steers him around the obstacle instead of over it and through it - the last thing she wants is to miscalculate the depth of the puddle and the crater that holds it, and break her steed's leg. The animal reluctantly follows - it reduces her lead and once she's back on the track, Isla has managed to catch up to her. She doesn't spare the other competitors a glance as she attempts to coax more speed from the horse, streaking towards the next set of obstacles.

Eydis races down her section of the track with Isla leaning forward across the mare's back. The golden haired Cherevin has a smile on her face her eyes gleaming with life and excitement. "Come on Eydis you can pass them all." She whispers to the black mare encouragingly. It seems to do the trick as the mare continues to race forward even as some of the other horses seem run out of energy or suffer fits of rebellion the sleek black mare just keeps going. Eydis doesn't hesitate to launch herself over the puddle in her path and it causes Isla to grin as she urges Eydis onwards.

Whatever Eneas had murmured to Evelyne before they started, she had met his remark with a chuckle and some words that then were drowned in the thunder of hooves upon the race track. The Somerville lady leans slightly forward, bringing her body in line with the horse, and Precious runs, mane and tail flaring from the speed. "We need to keep up with them… beat them, if we can…", she murmurs to her dapple grey mare. Eyes widening slightly as she beholds the first obstacle. "Oh… damn…. easy… you can do it…!" And yet, with all the enthusiasm she seems to arouse in the horse, it manages the leap across the puddle, and with a faint grin Evelyne notices that is she is slowly gaining ground.

Jelene and her mount come upon the puddle. With graceful ease, she clears it, her mount jumping over it easily. "That's my boy!" she murmurs into his ear as they continue, racing onward! She passes Lady Isabelle now, but is still behind Lady Isla. Every so often, she darts a quick glance to others. Some broad-shouldered nobleman, Lady Theodosia (whom she seems to recognize and know, given she dips her chin just a bit in acknowledgement), another woman she hasn't met before.

"Go, go, go!" Theodosia's whispers grow more frantic as she pushes her small mare to dart forward, the thunder of hooves all around her, the girl's face buried in that dark braided mane, her hands clutching at the reins. The puddle is small challenge for her lithe mount, but still, nothing's won yet.

At least it would seem that Antoine has managed to get his horse cooperating now. While they still aren't moving fast, compared to most of the others, they're still in the race, which is rather important to him. After all, this is more a competition against himself, that's what he keeps telling himself.

More and more of the spectators are standing now, cheering the riders and their horses on as they continue their race, running towards the next obstacle, a line of hay bales barring the way, that can once again only be braved by a courageous jump.

<FS3> Jelene rolls Riding: Good Success. (4 2 1 1 7 5 3 7)
<FS3> Eneas rolls Riding: Success. (6 4 6 8 1)
<FS3> Isabelle rolls Riding: Good Success. (8 4 3 2 3 7 1 4)
<FS3> Evelyne rolls Riding: Success. (3 4 4 8 3 4 5 4 2)
<FS3> Antoine rolls Riding: Good Success. (2 8 7 3 5 2 2)
<FS3> Isla rolls Riding: Good Success. (7 3 2 3 2 4 8 2 3 3)
<FS3> Theodosia rolls Riding: Success. (4 7 3 5 6 3)

<OOC> Eisheth says, "This jump is harder. +roll Riding-1 (Good Success), +roll Riding (GReat Success) +roll Riding-2 (Success). Or… '+luck/spend 1=Do an awesome Riding roll'. And then you can add a +20 modifier to your next Riding roll: +roll Riding+19 (Good Success), +roll Riding+20 (Great Success) +roll Riding+18 (Success)"

Evelyne spends 1 luck points on Ride like a Companion!.
<FS3> Evelyne rolls Riding+18: Amazing Success. (3 6 4 5 5 5 7 1 5 7 3 2 7 4 6 8 8 1 8 8)
Theodosia spends 1 luck points on Do an awesome Riding roll.
Isabelle spends 1 luck points on Ride with outstanding skill.
Isla spends 1 luck points on Ride like a pro!.
<FS3> Theodosia rolls Riding+18: Great Success. (8 3 3 8 1 1 6 3 8 7 2 5 4 2 5 4 1 8 1 6)
<FS3> Isabelle rolls Riding+19: Good Success. (5 1 3 3 4 3 4 2 3 4 4 7 7 2 7 3 6 1 6 6)
Eneas spends 1 luck points on Do an awesome Riding roll.
Jelene spends 1 luck points on Do an awesome riding roll.
Antoine spends 1 luck points on Ride, ride like the wind!.
<FS3> Antoine rolls Riding+19: Great Success. (2 5 1 3 2 2 7 3 5 3 7 6 4 5 5 1 3 8 3 8)
<FS3> Eneas rolls Riding+18: Great Success. (2 8 7 4 1 3 1 8 3 4 1 8 5 2 4 8 2 3 2 3)
<FS3> Isla rolls Riding+19: Amazing Success. (7 2 6 1 6 5 2 7 7 5 3 5 6 7 5 5 7 7 8 8)
<FS3> Jelene rolls Riding +19: Failure. (4 4 3 1 4 5 1 3 3 6 4 5 2 5 2 6 1 4 3 3)
Making sure, Jelene stays in the saddle and gets her horse back in line:
<FS3> Jelene rolls Riding: Great Success. (2 1 8 4 8 7 8 3)

With the hay bales in front of her, this time, Isabelle coaxes Cazador to jump - a little behind, she manages to overtake Jelene and head right for Isla's tail, but the Cherevin lady's horse puts on an incredible burst of speed followed by Evelyn's. She snaps her reins, the stallion charging forward towards the last length of the race.

With the obilisk coming closer, Eneas seems to implore the horse beneath him. "Easy now. Easy…you are bigger than they are…You can't take that turn as tight…". And while he may loose some speed in the turn, on the other hand the broad shouldered horse is also not easy to pass. The next straight comes up, and those bales come into view. Of course, Poly by now seems to stretch to get closer to the apple smell. "Bale.", Eneas says. "Bale…!", Eneas says a bit louder as the horse keeps veering after the Sommerville instead of keeping his own line. "BALE!". Well, yelling does the trick, the horse veering off back to the middle and thus actually _seeing_ those bales. So what if the timing is now a bit off and so they fall back a bit more in the pack? They did not stampede head-over-hoof through the bales at least!

Jelene perhaps got a bit too cocky there with the big jump coming up. Apparently, she wants to show off. Velour is having none of it, though. He's more of a humble being, unlike his mistress. So, as Jelene is fully intending to jump high over that hay bale with absolute flourish, Velour instead swerves to the right and /dodges/ it completely in a thoroughly anticlimactic action. Jelene, all redfaced and growling, keeps going, but mutters to her horse, "Now see if I give /you/ any carrots after that!"

Isla grins brightly when she sees the hay bales. Apparently she and Eydis have practiced such jumps before because the pair make leaping over the bales look almost like flying. Rider and horse sail over the bales in a blur of black with touches of gold. The mare kicks up dust as she comes down gracefully on her hooves with practiced ease and never stops moving racing off towards the finish line at top speed.

Theodosia cries out an excited whoop of pleasure when she jumps over the bale of hay, the girl's apple shaped cheeks flushed red with the heat of the chase. "Go, run, my pretty!" She finally takes her riding crop, just to punctuate a quick slap to her mount's rump. "Wheeeee!'

Picking up speed, Antoine lets out a bit of a breath as the horse and rider jumps over the bale of hay, unable to hold back a bit of a grin. "Told you we could do it," he mutters to the horse as he glances around. "Let's see how well we do this last part, hmmm?"

"Oh. My." Evelyne's blue eyes widen again, as the next obstacle comes into view. "You can make that, Precious. You can. Can you?", she wonders, even as her dapple grey mare storms towards those hay bales. "Now… jump as high as you can…", the Somerville gasps, eyes closing for that fraction of a moment, perhaps in silent prayer to Anael and Elua. Until the impact as Precious lands them safely onto the ground on the other side of the obstacle rattles her just enough to open her eyes and urge Precious on. "Very well done…" It seems they have gained more ground. And Evelyne urges her horse to run faster now, that they head for the finishing line at the far end. A fine straight course where it will be easy to launch into a gallop.

Indeed, it is time for that final sprint towards victory, and one can tell from the loud cheer in the hippodrome that nobles and commoners alike are no longer sitting but standing. Shouting the name of their favored rider, and one can be certain there has been some betting afoot.

<OOC> Eisheth says, "Now it is about to inspire your horses to give their all. Roll for your bonus: +roll Riding+Presence. Those of Anael Scion merit: +roll Riding+Presence+1"
<FS3> Isla rolls Riding+Presence: Success. (4 5 4 4 5 7 2 2 6 2)
<FS3> Eneas rolls Riding+Presence: Great Success. (8 8 7 8 8 3)
<FS3> Jelene rolls Riding+presence: Good Success. (7 3 2 6 1 3 4 8 3)
<FS3> Evelyne rolls Riding+Presence+1: Good Success. (2 8 8 4 4 6 8 5 2 2)
<FS3> Isabelle rolls Riding+presence: Success. (3 3 7 6 3 1 4)
<FS3> Antoine rolls Riding+presence: Good Success. (1 4 2 1 8 7 4)
<FS3> Theodosia rolls Riding+presence: Failure. (1 4 4 6 2 3)

<FS3> Isabelle rolls Riding+1: Good Success. (6 6 8 5 3 7 6 1 5)
<FS3> Jelene rolls Riding+2: Good Success. (6 8 6 7 6 1 2 1 2 3)
<FS3> Evelyne rolls Riding+2: Great Success. (2 8 3 5 8 7 4 6 4 5 7)
<FS3> Isla rolls Riding+1: Great Success. (7 6 2 7 6 7 5 8 4 8 2)
<FS3> Eneas rolls Riding+3: Success. (2 5 1 5 2 5 8 5)
<FS3> Antoine rolls Riding+2: Good Success. (2 3 6 1 4 2 1 8 7)
<FS3> Theodosia rolls Riding: Success. (6 1 1 2 8 1)

Coming down hard after the bale-jump, Poly does his best to keep up with the other horses, and given that he is not bred for speed does not do all that badly. Of course, Eneas has by now figured out why, and with Evelyne pulling ahead, "Go! Catch her!".
And while the warhorse tries his best, there are limits to motivations, especially against those horses and more importantly their lighter and much more practiced riders. Despite everything, Eneas and Poly keep falling back on the last straight-sprint, the horse exhausted, finishing at the back of the pack.

She isn't first, but she isn't last. Isabelle and her stallion tear through the final length behind a couple of other horses, her heart still pounding in her chest. The horse doesn't stop right away, slowing down to a canter well past the line, muscles collecting in its middle as it stops. The large, powerful animal whinnies once and tosses his head, but despite his placement, there's a smile from his mistress, leaning down so she could ruffle the top of his mane, and further down so she could curl her arms around the horse's neck and squeeze in an affectionate fashion.

Isla races down the final stretch trying to coax Eydis to top speed. The mare goes fast but one gets the impression she could go even faster if she truly wanted to. Still the Cherevin and her mount make it to the the finish line in short order. Isla is soon glancing around now to see the state of things. A gentle affection pat is given to Eydis and then Isla blinks when she realizes she might have won.

Theo cries out as she seems to lose a step to the others and she raises her crop in quick succession, trying to get a bit more speed out of her white mare. "Come on..cooooooome oN!" She cries out, though she's clearly losing contact with the leaders.

Precious flies along the race track, and Evelyne on top of her cannot help but smile when she realizes that they are staying close to the leader of the field, Lady Isla Cherevin. The Kusheline lady is too far ahead, though, for them to truly catch up, and so they cross the finishing line shortly after Isla. Evelyne gives Precious free reign, and the mare slows her pace, coming down to a leisurely trot, as Evelyne glances back to the others that are arriving now as well.

Continuing to make sure the horse goes in the right direction, Antoine glances around at the others present, frowning as he sees the people are too far ahead for him to catch up. He keeps on going, all in all enjoying this racing quite a bit.

Jelene crosses the finish line, though not as the winner. Still, all things considered, the isn't too disappointed. "Lady Isla!" she calls out, reigning in Velour and giving the golden haired lady a smile of congratulations. "Well done!" She chuckles. "Perhaps Drake's favor came in handy." She shrugs, though. "I rather think it was your exceptional skill, however." The redhead looks very impressed with the other woman's riding. Seeing Antoine, she nods to him, as well. "It was a good match, My Lord." she says to him.

The riders reach the finishing line the thundering cheer of the crowd, a ruckus there, that only dims down as horses come to stand, and as a certain herald raises once again his booming voice. "It seems we have a winner! It appears that Lady Isla Cherevin has decided this race in her favor and made first place. Second, Lady Evelyne Somerville. Third." He looks towards an assistant and then nods to a remark of the man, "Third place, Lady Isabelle de Valais."

With the announcements made, Eneas and the horses coming to a stand-still, or at least a trot, the d'Aiglemort gives a little salute and grin to the leading trio, even as he begins to steer Poly towards the side to get the beast to catch his breath, and eventually brushed down. Oh, and get the promised other half of that apple.

Isla blushes at Jelene's words and smiles back with a look of warmth. "Perhaps it was a bit of both. And thank you for your words. You held your own quite well." She smiles. "I should go make sure Eydis gets taken care of, she has earned an apple or two I think. But I would welcome the chance to speak further sometime." Smiling she bows her head and leads the mare of for some water and treats.

Theodosia finally pulls her hose to a stop and smiles , dismounting and shaking her head. "Well, that was a good run.." she pats the neck of her horse, leading her towards a water trough, then smiles and salutes the winner, Isla, it seems.

Evelyne dismounts, skirts swirling before they settle to conceal those legs and leggings of hers. Precious has deserved an extra apple, the SOmerville produces from out of nowhere and offers up to her horse upon a flat palm. "You did fine," she smiles, blue eyes catching the d*Aiglemort as he reigns his horse in their direction. "Well ridden, my lord.", she offers, forced to lift her chin a little where she stands and Eneas is still sitting on his horse.

Antoine grins as he hears the announcement. "Good job, all three of you," he offers to the top placed ones, before he nods at Jelene. "It was quite nice. I thought I was going to end up last for a long while there. But it's good to test myself against such good opponents."

As he is addressed, Eneas does indeed steer the mount closer to Evelyne. "Ah, thank you for your kind words, but I know I am quite rusty in the saddle.", he comments, before indeed swinging his leg over so he can dismount, and soon gives the horse's neck a hearty tripple-pat. "And so is he. The weeks on the ship did not do him well.". With that said, he turns, letting the reigns fall from his hand, and well-trained as Poly is the horse stops in place, though the neck and nose do stretch out to sniff in the direction of the lady, which makes Eneas chuckle softly.

"It was you who rides exceptionally well. And so did pretty much the whole heat. But that is all right. I can suffer being bested by the best Marsilikos has obviously to offer.". With that he reaches out a hand, then, to try to take the lady's hand for a hand kiss. "I am Eneas d'Aiglemort, m'lady. And may I learn your name?", he wonders.

"Well…" Words trail off as Evelyne's eyes linger of the Camaeline who so gracefully dismounts. "…met, my lord d'Aiglemort. I am Evelyne Somerville, daughter of the baron of Thiviers. As you can hear from my manny of speech… and perhaps smell, I am not hailing from Marsilikos. L'Agnace is my home province. And I believe the lady who won, is of Kusheth." Her hand is claimed for a kiss, and Evelyne does not refuse it. "I am enchanted to make your acquaintance.", she offers, eyes blinking. And it is as if the scent of apples intensifies just so.

"Well. Obviously.", Eneas grants, gesturing between her and the winner of the race. "I meant in the Tournament, not by birth, but…", he shrugs his shoulders, as if to dismiss the whole line of thought. The gloved hand of the woman is soon released, even as he seems ponder the information given. "Thiviers? Hm. I do not think I met any of your branch of the family before. Well met indeed.", he offers, then smiles. "I myself am the brother of the Baron de Beaune.", he ventures to offer some contect, but grins then. "Though I would hope you do not hold that against my dear brother. I assure you he is much more baron material then I am.", he states in the tone of voice that indicates he is at least half-jesting in his self-deprecation. With the formalities out of the way, he laughs softly, leaning again once more, to offer quieter words to the young lady.

<FS3> Evelyne rolls Composure: Good Success. (7 8 4 3 3 3)

"Baron material?" This seems to amuse Evelyne as she shifts a little closer to her horse, to pat it gently on the neck. "Who tells you I would be interested in baron material, my lord?" There is a hint of mischief flashing in her eyes, an upturn of her lips as she notes how he leans in, and she pushes herself up and away from the horse and turns her head to catch those words he offers her in confidence. Whatever message is conveyed, it makes her smile deepen and Evelyne tilt her head just so as she meets his gaze with a wink. "You are pretty bold, for a Camaeline. I mean, a Camaeline off the battlefield." Her hand continues to pat the neck of Precious, even if a bit absent-mindedly. "And yes. I would agree." Her other hand lifts, an index finger trailing along the clothes that are covering his chest, all playfully. With the ghost of a smirk she leans in and offers Eneas a whispered counter.

"Oh, I was merely giving m'lady context to not confuse my spotty reputation with that of my brother.", Eneas counters, smirking. "If that is to your liking or not, I had not considered, to be honest.", he claims, though blue eyes seem to hold a spark of amusement there. Leaning, in, delivering the message, only for her to remark on his boldness? That actually makes Eneas laugh, drawing back a little. "I have to wonder what Camaeline's you have met so far, dear Lady Evelyne, if you think this is bold. Or that the battlefields would make us less bold.". Still, when she lifts her finger to trace that path over white shirt and black leather vest, Eneas tilts his head a little, studying her, subdued laughter to shake his shoulder at the return words and his shoulder offer a shrug before he answers.

His counter makes Evelyne catch her bottom lip with her teeth. "I am glad to hear," she replies. "That you don't feel intimidated when cast into a situation that will not be decided by your sword." The whispering game does not lose its charms for her, and so she whispers something back, into his ear, a strand of her blonde hair tickling his neck, as she tries to bite back a giggle.

"The sword is always an option. Not always the best, though.", replies Eneas. "Or the most exciting, even.". With that, he finally reaches up, first to try to brush that strand of hair out of the way, behind the lady's ear, if she does not shy away, then to take that hand with the trailing finger into his own. More quiet words are exchanged, blue eyes amused, but also a touch surprised and a light with curiosity as he whispers, before indeed her gloved hands are given a hand kiss once more. "But for now, I will have to tend to Poly. He did all the work, after all. If you excuse me, Lady Evelyne de Sommerville?".

"Of course.", Evelyne allows, taking just that tiny half step back to reinstate a somewhat proper distance between them. "I should tend to Precious as well." Her head turns, gaze brushing her horse just in the moment she catches that whisper. To that, she grants him back her full attention, once brow lifting, as she for once does not reply. There are no words, neither whispered nor spoken, just a faint lift of a brow, a faint pursing of her lips, as she observes that kiss to her gloved hand especially. She is not in a hurry to withdraw her hand. But when she eventually does, it is to offer him a nod in noncommittal indication of goodbye. "I have to get Precious back to the stables. I believe I might see you, here in town. At some point. Until then. Recover well from your race, Lord Eneas." Her finger brushes lightly over a bruise in his face. "And from other contests." at which she turns to lead her horse away to the side. To speak with some family members, perhaps.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License