(1312-10-15) Besancon Tournament: Opening Parade
Summary: Contestants of the upcoming competitions present themselves before the Duc of Camlach.
RL Date: Thu Oct 15, 1312
Related: Besançon Tournament
aidan daniel jovet luc sylvaine 

Place de la Valeur — City of Besançon

An archway connects Place de l'Epée with Place de la Valeur, the center of Besançon's cultural life. It is a lovely square with a few shops, inns and wineries, but also, the Great Temple of Camael is residing majestically opposite of the more worldly establishments. It is from the temple that a never ending litany of steel clashing against steel can be heard, competing with sounds of harps and lutes and singing that are provided in a more traditional understanding of music from the opposite side of the square.

Several avenues are winding deeper into the city from here, towards the temples of the other Companions, but also towards the local quarter of courtesan salons.

The choice of location seems adequate, on the square just outside the Temple of Camael. A few steps lead up to a dais, where the Duc of Camlach and a few close members of the family are seated to observe and acknowledge those that step forth to present themselves - people who have signed up for the contests. Each one will be called forth by name through a herald, a large man in his late forties who - through some circumstance or other - calls a certain martial aura and presence his own.

Of course, a crowd has gathered in the square, to greet each announcement with a cheer. There are lords and ladies gathered here, but also those of more common descent, tradesmen, servants, handmaidens but also some courtesans of local salons, some of them showing off finished marques on their backs, where the design of their garments allows a glimpse of the art on their skin.

Daniel has arrived in the city earlier in the day. Daniel has the careful bemused look of someone who is familiar but been away for a time and still trying to deal with that. He smiles in the crowds, the large man stands out but in Camlach it's not as unusual to see those of large stature and militant bearing and Daniel seems well pleased at this. He stands with a small group that seems to be a mix of house retainers and those of a similar age to him.

While his plan still is to relocate to the south to aid in his mental recovery from recent events, Luc really shouldn't miss an event such as this. And the possibility to get some things out of his mind as well, by participating. He stands a bit to the side now, watching the proceedings with a bit of a frown, quiet for now.

Sylvaine is one of those of the latter category. Her dress is of fine courtly fashion, light blue silk arranged in generous skirts and long sleeves, a bodice pronouncing her slender figure. It is autumn after all, and so the dark blue cloak she wears would usually obscure the back and shoulders, but the silver chain at the front gives room enough for it to slip a little deeper to reveal the lower part if the neck - just in the moment a gust of wind tears at her blonde hair - so that the finial of her marque becomes visible. The young woman must be in her mid-twenties, and there is a certain pride and confidence in the way she carries herself. She is not on her own, but there is a guard who is watching over her - while the courtesan herself looks quite intrigued with the proceedings. She is standing in the crowd, and as she lets her grey eyes sweep over those assembled, she cannot help but notice the large man that is Daniel - but the quiet Luc catches her attention as well, for a moment.

"The next to present himself before His Grace is Benoit Auguste d'Eltoine," the herald announces, in a deep voice that carries far over the square. And to the front comes a man of medium height, in his early forties. If one can tell from the murmur in the crowd, this man seems to be well known in Camlach. He moves with a certain efficiency in his gait, unhurried but precise. His eyes are light blue and of a certain chill, as they look towards the crowd, before he steps forth and takes to a knee before the Duc Valliers. "Your Grace," the man says, lowering his eyes respectfully. He is clad in the fine garb of a noble, and his hand moves to the pommel of the rapier at his side, in a gesture of demonstration, of readiness to protect his province and his duc.

Daniel watches the next presentation with a smile and he leans over murmuring something to his little gaggle of fellow knights. There's general chuckles though they do their best to suppress but it seems there's some joking from the group. Daniel's eyes wander and he smiles politely at Sylvaine catching her gaze on him. He watches her back for a moment and then gives a deliberate wink and smiles.

<FS3> Sylvaine rolls Politics: Great Success. (5 7 7 7 2 3 7 8 2 4)

Luc glances around, noticing Sylvaine. He offers her a nod and a smile, rather quietly, before he looks to the front for a few moments, to study the man presenting himself briefly. Silently seeming to assess the man's skills just from the demonstration, he lets out a bit of a breath, before he looks around again. A nod is offered in Daniel's direction, before he looks to Sylvaine again bfor a little while.

The glance Daniel gives her is noted, and Sylvaine rewards him with a tempered smile and a nod of her head. A few murmured words towards her guard, and she is already strolling over to where Daniel stands amidst his retainers. "My lord Daniel Ferraut," she murmurs as she executes an elegant hint of a curtsey, and her intelligent eyes convey both interest and awareness of his station. The cloak has slipped back in place, and so has her blonde hair, now no longer teased by the breeze. While he may not know her, she for her part is well educated in recognizing faces and knowing the names of their bearers. Another glance is cast in Luc's direction, and she smiles. "My lord Luc Montchapetre." Another curtsey is offered along with the greeting. "Will either of you compete in the contests?", she wonders lightly.

His Grace, Horatio Batiste d'Aiglemort nods his head in acknowledgement to Benoit d'Eltoine. "I shall look forward to seeing you compete," the duc declares towards the war veteran, upon which the other man rises only to lock for a brief moment his gaze with that of the duc. "And I shall see to it that I won't disappoint," Benoit announces, before he leaves after a final bow to the duc, moving to the side to make room for the next.

Luc nods a little as he hears his name. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he offers to Sylvaine, before he nods again at her question about competing in the contests. "That's the plan," he replies, the hint of a smile present now.

"I'm Sylvaine," the same introduces herself to both Luc and Daniel, and there is just another elegant dip of a curtsey as she adds, "Sylvaine nó Cygne Fière." She lifts her hand to touch it to the silver chain that keeps her dark blue cloak in place. "And any other reply would have surprised me indeed, my lord." This said to Luc.

A short black woolen cape worn rakishly to one side and clasped over his free shoulder with a clasping pin in the shape of a silver sword sliding through the talons of an eagle marks Joven easily among the house d'Aiglemort. Beneath, a doublet of pitch black leather panels laced over a finely woven grey tunic, the asymmetrical hem of which hangs over black leathern trou laced from knee to just below each hip in silver chain, with boots below buckled countless times in silver along the muscular curve of his calf. Then, of course, his black silver-studded parade baldrick, worn at the waist and across his chest, adds a layer of dimension to the outfit and darkens the hue of his mossy green eyes, which watch the procession from aloft, somewhat, the fellow poised upon some plinth or other among the architectural outings of the plaza.

"Lucien Valliers, nephew to the Duc de Valliers," the herald calls out the next contender intending to compete, and a young man steps forward, looking no older than twenty-five. He wears doublet and breeches in the colors of his House, white and red, and long dark hair frames a comely face of determined expression. He bows to the Duc d'Aiglemort, muttering a "Your Grace", respectful yet low in volume.

Luc raises an eyebrow as he hears Sylvaine's words. "That is good to know," he replies, offering her another smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Sylvaine," he adds. He glances to the front briefly as the herald calls out the Valliers, studying the man briefly, before he looks back to Sylvaine again.

Sylvaine too looks towards the young Valliers, and a fine smile curves her lips. "He may look young," she confides to those standing in their vicinity, "but he is quite skilled, or so I hear." A glance then towards Luc. "My lord. The pleasure is all mine." It is as if her voice sounds a touch softer now, even if her posture remains upright, emanating a certain confidence. Those grey eyes of hers drift and then come to linger on Jovet for a moment. Then, towards Daniel, she adds, "And you, my lord, owe me the answer to my question. Looking at you, I can very well imagine that you will compete. Or won't you?"

Daniel looks utterly pleased as he gets a nod and gives a light bow to Sylvaine, "Pleasure, I hope you're enjoying the city?" He offers brightly and he considers glancing up the main presentation then back to Sylvaine, "I'm… I probably shouldn't." He says in a tone that indicates he very much looks for any excuse to. He says too much chortling from those around who apparently very much expect Daniel's resolve to 'recuperate' to fail.

Jovet hooks a hand around past a post, leaning away from it and grinning to utter a few comments into the ear of someone standing down to his side, eyes not leaving the fellow presently mid-presentation, indicating that possibly he's the topic of some conversation. Then, with a sprightly hop, he lights upon the plaza grounds, tossing his cape back to its fashionable half-back and strolling along up toward where Sylvaine is holding court, half-eyeing her companions and tossing her an upward tip of his chin, a tweak of a grin.

Luc nods a bit at the talk about the young Valliers. "He looks skilled, that's true," he offers, before he raises an eyebrow in the direction of Daniel. "You probably shouldn't?" he asks, sounding slightly curious.

"I do love Besançon," Sylvaine replies to Daniel. "And I haven't regretted the twist of fate that brought me here, my lord. It is a lovely city. Lovely, in a Camaeline way. And besides, this is the heart of Camlach. To live here is to have your fingers at the pulse of history being made." Her words are not without pride, and she smiles. "I trust you will make the right decision to compete in the contests." The statement may be a tease or a challenge. The approach of Jovet is noticed, however, and Sylvaine half-turns to include him into their conversation. "My lord Jovet d'Aiglemort." She lowers herself into a curtsey, whilst granting the man a charming smile. Her gaze flicks to Luc then, and she nods. "You have a good eye, my lord."

Daniel looks pleased at Sylvaine's response about the city. He beams slightly and then he glances to Luc and he shrugs his shoulders, "I was wounded a few months ago. Theoretically I'm supposed to be avoiding unnecessary strain." He says wryly, "For the most part it's fine but…" He shrugs and leans forward with a mischievous look, "Healers." He complains mildly and then he looks to Jovet smiling, "Hello." He says easily enough and warmly. He looks to Sylvaine and admits, "You seem to know everyone."

"Mam'selle Sylvaine," Jovet makes answer, leaning slightly back from her and bracing his hip with a fist, "Look at you, hm? Everyone hanging on your every word," he goes on, voice lilting fair, chin tipping roguishly toward his chest as he levels her a playful gaze. "Not that I can blame you," he asides to Daniel, then gives him a more than cursory scan with his eyes. "The Meds are scratching you from the gate, hm?"

"And here I thought…" Luc trails off, shaking his head while looking a bit amused, before he nods again at Daniel's words. "But wouldn't it, in a way, be a necessary strain to find out just how well your recovery has been going, hmm?" It's offered with a shrug, as he looks over to Jovet again, offering the man a nod as he studies him. He then offers a brief smile to Sylvaine again. "Thank you," he replies to her.

"It is required that I know," Sylvaine replies to Daniel with a gentle smile. "My salon is that of the proud swan, and I was trained in the canon of House Dahlia. You are a son of the Comte de Ferraut." Her grey eyes are lowered as she seems to be in thoughts for a moment. But it is Jovet who addresses her next, so she looks up, considering him with a mixture of warmth and gentle disapproval. "You are flattering me," she states with a smile, "but I would be a poor representative of my trade, were I to stand in perfect isolation and solitude. I have one vice, and this I admit is curiosity in how the contests will go. As far as I know, there will be a great many able contestants, of Camlach's finest. To be able to make it to the final rounds will be a great and admirable feat alone." Luc's thanks are met with a lingering gaze and a smile. "Only a fool will enter peril in obliviousness," she counters, "but on the other hand, some would argue that to face danger in full awareness of the stakes may be a folly of another kind."

"Only making an observation, Mam'selle," Jovet places four fingers to his chest in an innocent-eyed profession of sincerity, the palm of his hand arced, poised in a gesture that would be delicate if his forearm were't endowed with quite such sinew, if his fingers weren't calloused with the easy grip of a pommel. "I should ask you what you think of my own chances," he goes on to grin to her, then, inspecting Daniel once more, "The Comte Ferraut's son… the one who piffed off to the seaside?" he wonders, tossing Luc a subtle wink.

Daniel smiles at Jovet, "Or at least offering threats. You know how they can be." He admits faintly and then he grins at Luc and he nods, "Yes… I've been sparring. It wouldn't be horrid. It's just…you know harder to avoid notice when you're in such a melee rather than sparring." He admits and he smiles at Sylvaine, "Well there are worse things to have to know." He ahs as she mentions the name and he smiles, "A little bit of folly may go a long way in Camlach." He says brightly. He laughs faintly at that, "Piffed?"

"See, there are two sides of the thing," Luc offers to Sylvaine, with a grin. "Some people prefer going in while oblivious, others need to know the stakes." He smiles as he listens to the rest, nodding a little bit. "Makes sense. Better be careful, right?" Was that said as if he'd be trying to talk Daniel into participating? Who knows? He nods again at Jovet's words, offering the man one of those brief grins.

"Your chances, my lord? I would say that you may be one of the few who will be able to make it to the final round," Sylvaine remarks towards Jovet. "In the end, it will depend on you, and the performance you will give in the contests. Stay focused and infused with Camael's spirit, and it may very well happen that you will take home the win." She looks towards Daniel and then towards Luc. "I trust you will be wise enough not to be foolhardy," she assumes. "You have, after all the advantage of experience."

It is at this moment that a servant passes by and, in passing, hands the courtesan a note, which she will open when the servant has already vanished in the crowd. "If you would excuse me for a moment, my lords." Sylvaine begs her leave with easy confidence. "I fear there is a matter I need to attend to." Whatever the nature of said matter… the Silver Swan bids the others farewell with a graceful curtsey. "It has been a pleasure talking to you, and I shall look forward to the contests, knowing that you will be competing."

Daniel wriggles his nose and nods at Luc, "That's the theory." He says grumpily but he shrugs his wide shoulders and he smiles at Jovet and chuckles softly, "Oh? Good excellent to have a very…competetive field. That's what we like up here." He says beaming and he waves at Sylvaine wiggling fingers to her at her departure. Even as he glances up at the continued presentations. He considers for a moment and then he shrugs reaching into his vest and drawing out a flask for a stip and offering it to the others.

Once again, the herald can be heard as he calls forth yet another of those that have signed up to compete in the contests. "And now, I call forth Lord Aidan Delaunay, the baron de Velaux. Present yourself before His Grace, my lord." The Duc d'Aiglemort looks up expectantly, his gaze sweeping the crowd.

Wasn't late because he was here the /whoooole/ time… And as the Herald calls for him to step forward the tall young baron steps forward offering a bow to the Duc his hand moving to rest on the pommel of the… Wait he didn't come to this social event armed and his hand moves back to his side as he rises from his bow, "Your grace."

"Piffed," Jovet grins, "As in… off," he re-iterates for Daniel, not anyhow hostile, perhaps a little in the way of a tease. Sylvaine is reckoning him well enough, though, and he offers her a little mime of a peck on the cheek from a distance. "From your lips to Camael's ears, chere," he chuckles.

Luc raises an eyebrow as he listens, watching where Sylvaine left, before he turns back to the happenings at the front. "Looks rather capable, that one," he remarks to the others. Taking the offered flask as it's offered. "Thanks." Taking a small sip, then handing it back to Daniel.

Aidan having finished with presenting himself to the duc he scurries off to the smell of alcohol someplace nearby. It's been far too long since he was last in Camlach and he's got a lot of catching up to do.

Looking around a little, Luc seems about to say something, when the herald calls for Luc Briand Montchapetre, the Vicomte d'Annecy to present himself. Shrugging a little as he looks around, Luc steps forward to take care of the formalities as he moves to one knee to offer the Duc a polite bow. "Your Grace," he greets the man softly, before he adds, "I look forward to the competitions." Waiting until he can head back into the crowd before doing so.

Daniel gets distracted from something or other nearby he seems content to get distracted. He continues to sip his flask enjoying himself and observing. He doesn't seem to need to introduce and seems content to watch and decide to head out to the revelry.

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