|The Dragon Age (thedragonage) wrote in thebattleage,|
@ 2011-06-16 22:53:00
|Entry tags:||! complete, (plot), brennan wulfe, cormac murrough, elsa vargas, imenry barras, vashedan|
Tournament: Combat final round
Who: Open to all, Imenry Barras, Vashedan, Alistair Theirin (NPC)
When: 4 Solis, 9:45
Where: Vigils Keep Arena
Summary: The combat finalists face off on the field.
With each day the crowds grew bigger, Alistair had felt like that for quite some time now, and although he was aware that it was great news for Amaranthine, for the Grey Wardens and for the spirit of the people, it made his nerves worse. More people staring at him, hoping he would be the awesome war leader that he felt he wasn't.
Squinting out over the crowds, he swallowed and asked himself if they really did enjoy listening to his speeches or if they were just very polite about it. Either way, he thought a trifle triumphantly, this day he came prepared. Late last night he had hunted down Bethany and convinced her to write a speech for him. It had taken some wheedling, and the notion that for once Alistair would hold a speech worthy of his position, but she had accepted. Alistair was convinced she'd do a better job than he would himself, and than Dougal too for that matter. (Souvenirs, he scoffed to himself). Her brother was the Champion after all, public speaking probably ran in the family.
Rising and unfolding the sheet of paper, Alistair cleared his voice and looked down on it. A reverent silence fell over the audience and he could see hundreds of faces turning towards him, like flowers in sunlight. Swallowing again he felt his mouth go completely dry as his hands started to sweat.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the fourth day of the tournament. With each passing day, the stakes have risen, the battle has grown fiercer..." Alistair found himself getting immersed in the words written on the paper with her small, cramped hand. It looked like an ant had drown in her ink-pot and then done a final, struggling walk over the sheet of paper, but he could feel the words coursing through him, their power making his blood flow quicker.
"Today we will watch two of the finest warriors battle, testing their strength, endurance and skill against each other. Seventy-five sovereigns are at stake, but also so much more, ladies and gentlemen. This is the day when one of our combatants will walk away a winner forever, richer not only in money, but in glory."
Cheekily, Bethany had even included some instructions for him, and he found himself following them without thinking; lifting his hand in an imperious salute.
"Let the fight begin!"
Slumping back in his chair, he could only hear the sound of his blood crashing and chasing through his body at a too quick pace. Only when it didn't abate did he realise that it was the sound of the crowds cheering, chanting his name, the name of the Grey Wardens, of the city, everything in a jumbled mass.
Alistair decided on the spot that Bethany was to write all of his speeches from that day on, because clearly it was a win-win situation for all of them. Taking a deep breath, he leaned forward to look at the combatants as they approached each other.