"Well- come on then... 'fore you're te, girlie!" The attendant gestures towards the gate as he finishes packing, the guardsman accompanying him inside to leave Meryl by herself by the entrance. Before long, she darts inside as well. She walks down the corridor that separated the arena from the spectators, essentially taking the only path she never had to take so far with only managing to watch the previous tournaments that occurred. Finding the waiting room though, she steps in. The room grows silent to her entrance, numerous contestants assuming she had come as an announcer or simply lost her way, losing their interest rather quickly after she returns their gaze in a simir silence.
A quick count of heads give the estimate of thirty contestants, justified to be thirty two including her. Now all there was to do was wait, with her finding a vacant seat to sit down on while watching the first row of fighters preparing to step into the arena. The crowd outside could be heard even inside the walled room the contestants were inside of, their position under the row of seats that surrounded the arena. Their cheers only grow in intensity as a pair of fighters step out, armed with light armor to protect the limbs and wooden swords to fight with.
Anxiety bubbles deep in her again, a barker occasionally stepping in to call for a pair of names to prepare only intensifying her nervousness, alongside gnces shot her way by the other contestants while they try to understand the reason of her presence. Though hours pass, not long after the blonde woman realizing that she is not in the first eight fights that come, nor the following four. Had they missed her name?
Moments pass again, the barker walking into the room once more with only a handful of people left than what was initially. Before he could count the next names though, he is interrupted by a fast approaching Meryl, raising a hand sheepishly to gesture for permission as she speaks. "Um- excuse me... I think the fights are entering the semi-finals but I haven't been called... at all..." The possibility of having her name not added at all passes through her mind, though the barker eliminates such concerns as he reads the folded paper in his hand. "I see... you'll be fighting that gentleman over there in the finals." His free hand gestures towards a man, his attire standing out simirly to the princess she had met a few hours prior and the other fighters that were left waiting in the room. Though such fact only intensifies her confusion, turning back to the barker before she adds. "Hold on... we aren't even *in* the semi-finals... what do you mean?" The barker's gaze moves between his list and the woman, in the end giving her a shrug and a dismissive wave of his hand. "I'm just the messenger, missy. You should've known what you were getting yourself into." The dismissiveness is carried in his voice as well, soon shouting the names of the two fighters, one getting a raise of the priorly mentioned man's head.
They prepare, and soon move to set foot into the arena. The aforementioned gentleman slows his steps as he gives Meryl a thorough inspection, only then his steps halting entirely as he parts with a few words. "You disgust me." A click of his tongue end his words, soon walking out of the room. The tapping of his heels slowly dim to an uncomfortable silence, the room left with a handful of fighters and the barker that witnessed the offered words from nearby. The unwarranted hostility leaves Meryl watching his back as he moves down the hallway.
His confusion was as apparent as Meryl's, scooting close to her side to speak as his shoulder bumps against hers. "Hey, ssie... hell'd you do to piss t'foreigner off?" Panic is present in his voice as he asks, his shoulder nudging Meryl's. "...Nothing-- I never... foreigner... who? This has to be one of the sketchiest setups I've ever been in... is every tournament handled like this?!" A huff ends her annoyed words, a cross of her arms as the question is met with one of her own. The barker slides his thumb along one side of his moustache, grumbling to himself while using the bundled papers as a fan for his face. "No, not at all. People are just confused seeing a woman in the tourney, I'm sure you understand."
She did not, at all, understand. Though as she parts her lips to voice her opinion the barker adds. "That's... one of the young lords from Yhenone... he's been the talk of all for a while. Visits often... helps those in need, you know, the same bbber you always hear." A displeased scoff leaves him, at this point rambling to himself, unaware or even uncaring of Meryl's given attention. "Pompous... if y'ask me, all that glitter n' fancy talk they do..." He keeps his grumbling going, his words pausing only for incomprehensible insults to trail from under his moustache. "There's history to be made if he makes it through the finals though-- and eventually your fight, ssie... Sletia's been on Yhenone's throat for damn years now, a marriage's ought to calm things down for a year or two."
A sigh from the woman, accompanied by the loud cheers of the crowd just above and outside. It seemed like the fight had concluded. The barker peeks at his papers again as she begun to speak. "It's starting to feel like there's *a lot* I'm not aware of. Is it the reward?" The barker's eyes almost pop out of their sockets as he stares in a bnk shock. By the time it wears off to be repced with a short lived amusement, he speaks. "You... you don't know? Lassie you-" Though attention turns to the footsteps coming from the wide corridor that lead up to darkness, the young lord and the other fighter coming in slow steps, the beaten up fighter holding onto the prince for support, battered and bloodied. He seems uncaring for his loss, but appreciative for the friendly gesture of his opponent prior. The young lord drops his defeated opponent on a chair gently before his attention turns to the whispering duo. The barker straightens his posture, clearing his throat before he would offer a polite yet curt bow to the young lord.
"Ah... right... it's... it's you two. Ready?" His free hand points at Meryl with a finger to add. "No armor is allowed so get the paddings off, ssie... help yourself to one of the practice swords over there and... get on the field." He leans down to shave off the few inches they had in height to whisper again. "And... maybe consider taking the dive... he seems like he won't be holding back, you know?" Her eyes find the young lord's while the barker whispers, little other than spite staring straight into her own eyes. Though a dangerous mixture of bubbling adrenaline and anxiety pushes her legs forward, her padded armor left along a table before her sword is repced with a simir sized and shaped wood alternative. A few unsheathes and swings in the air are done to adjust to the difference before she is called forward once again, walking alongside the barker and the young lord.
Their persisting silence intensified the feeling of being in the wrong pce, though no matter how hesitant she would get, it was absolutely too te to back out now. Sun's shine blinds her eyes which had gotten adjusted to the dimmer lighting of the interior, a hand rising to her forehead to block the rays while the deafening cheers of the crowd was heard. Some showed hesitance in their cheering to seeing her come out along the prince, though eventually the crowd followed the majority. Excitement for the finals were high, the fights were pnned to continue once the young lord defeated his next opponent. It barely felt like she was in a tournament, at least the ones she got to watch so many times as she grew up. Only a stage py, one which she had been given her role and anyone except for her had already seen the ending of.
Her steps soon tap against the hot sand of the arena eventually, the pces being taken by the two contestants as cheers continue to amplify. The crowd happily cries the name "Zarab" as the young lord gives the audience plentiful smiles and gestures in answer to their cheers. Eventually silence follows as a much finely dressed man moves between them, right in the middle of the arena. His voice booms with only a cusped hand to add to his voice, no one in the crowd exempt from hearing what he had to say. A simple yet effective use of magic, some may call it a waste, though such circus trick brought him to prosperous spots as his attire proved. "Ladies and gentlemen! Are we ready for possibly one of the st fights of today?" He gives a moment to let the audience cp and cheer before continuing. "On one side we have Prince Zarab of Yhenone, having come a long way from home to grace us today."
"And on the other side, we have Lady Meryl of Vitrolon! Though don't let her looks trick you, she has lead countless expeditions in Precursor scavenges, and has volunteered in many campaigns in the east!"
Lady? None of the acts of valor or title were bestowed to her, just a simple farmgirl that had a knack for swords, if not solely for self-defense. A te bloomer, Meryl was proving to be though. Reality struck her in the head now, the sketchy sign-up process and the countless insults or slights thrown her way up to this very moment. She was only being used to boost the points the lord was racking up. His rather mispced hate was making sense too, if he was told what she was hearing now, the "campaigns in the east" only meant she had fought against his homend in wars.
Though the audience's attention seemed to have turned to her for once, her name heard through the crowd's cheers rather than the young lord's. Her eyes skimp through countless heads to see a wide space higher than the rest of the spectator area though, one holding the noble house's residents and their private guards inside. Comfortable thrones were lining the shaded spot, the head of House Vaugrenard seen alongside his wife and daughter by his side. His expression seemed to be welcoming the fight that was to occur while numerous faces, including his wife held a frown over their face while they waited for the fight to begin. Though amidst them all a wave is given towards the princess who returns the gesture not long after alongside a giggle that follows. She seemed amused by the lies spouted by the announcer, maybe believing them just like the crowd.
A bell rings nearby then, the announcer getting out of their way as he shouts one st time.
"May the strongest win!"
Zarab dashes forward, his wooden sword unsheathed, aimed straight for the woman's neck. It would not lead to death due to its retively harmless material, though a blunt strike to the throat still housed enough agony to perhaps st a lifetime were it to connect. Meryl acts to block the coming strike, her unsheathed sword covering her upper body while her leg winds subtly to prepare for a kick in retribution. The strike is blocked as the young lord's weapon is swung, her own simirly waving in the air to the force of the blow. There was an unnatural factor to his speed, she would give it thought to ponder though he had already opened the distance once again to charge to a strike. The crowd's cheer could deafen were they to keep the excitement up for a few more moments while they watched the young lord act. The next strike already coming in a dash, with Meryl yet to orient her sword to block.
A swing of her sword, its tip dragging across Zarab's abdomen during his dash forward. The practice swords were made to be blunt and retively harmless, though the pointy tip still held piercing properties, especially when it had someone dashing right into it at amplified speed. Watching him on the floor, she drops her sword, mumbling amidst wheezing breaths.
"...Jackass."
The announcer dashes to get in-between the two fighters, the one bleeding onto the hot sand curling into a ball as he whines in pain on the floor. "He can't fight like this... gosh, kid." He raises a hand, a wave and a hand shape that alerts nearby attendees to call for medical aid to carry the young lord away. One applies a salve across his torn abdomen, skin melding shut in mere moments while the interior damage seemed to remain, judging from his continuing whines.
The announcer makes his entrance again, his hand with little theatrics finding Meryl's before the princess is asked to be brought down to the arena as well. She lifts the lower part of her dress during her approach, trying to keep the sand off while her heels sink into the loose sand. Despite all discomforts though, everyone present silently watches, giving her minutes of time before she makes it to the other two in the arena. Her hand is simirly taken, watching Meryl with an aloof smile while silence is only broken by the announcer.
"...I... I suppose I... announce you... with the official right given to me by House Vaugrenard and His Highness..." One more look between the two women, one excited to finally take home her reward and the other excited for the next words to follow. "Wife... and wife..?"
The blonde woman's face drops, in the split of a second everything had connected all at once and all she could muster to say was, "Hold- w- WHAT?!"
