(START)Arms and Arena Adventures (EVENT)

[Plot Device]

Anticipation was high the morning of the tournament, gates to the arena had opened at sunrise with a crowd already waiting. Some of the people had camped outside the night before. With a few hours left to wait fighters had started any last minute preparations for the long day to come.

[Mana]

"So many people...I wonder if they were the contestants." Mana remarked when she saw how many people already gathered around the arena. There was even a few tents lining up which meant these people camped here last night. It seemed the tournament had attracted a lot of attention from the citizens and the fighters. "Well, it makes me a little nervous. I may have another stage fright...but hopefully not."

The girl woke up pretty early this morning, too early maybe. Full of vigor, she even somehow managed to drag her larger companion all the way into the arena after breakfast. Last night, she got some good advices about her weakness and fighting style and then continued with challenging Wyatt into a quick sparring. After all she gained last night Mana seemed ready to kick some fight.

"Hmm...There are some strange-looking men there and there, and also a few persons wearing weird armor." It seemed the Sacaen girl didn't notice if those "persons in weird armor" were the guards. It wasn't that bad, actually, it just didn't suit her taste at all. "Ah and those people look strong too." Mana caught a glimpse of another group of young adventures heading into the arena gate. As she was busy commenting about some of their potential opponents, the crowd around them had started to move. Some went to prepare themselves and some other decided to get into the building. A few people seemed to notice the pair as well. After all, they had got some recognition after their wins in the street arena yesterday.

"Hey, Wyatt. Do you see someone you know? You said yourself we might find one or two friends in this crowd. I hasn't had any luck so far, though." The girl turned to her friend, elbowing him lightly at his stomach.

[Valcrist]

"Buy a weapon to mark this momentous day! A tournament this incredible only happens once in a blue moon! Don't go home empty handed! Fighters aren't the only ones who can get a great prize on a day like today!" His voice melted into the roaring crowds, he didn't even think a single person could hear him. Ugh. He hated saying such corny things, but it was the only way he could think of to attract attention. It almost made him cringe, but it was alright, as long as he was making money it was alright.

In a small stall situated somewhere inside the amorphous mass of people and fans was a somewhat uncomfortable looking blacksmith, known to be a clutz with words and annoying pessimistic, but talented in his craft. A man named Valcrist Terris, son of the famous blacksmith Terris. The dark skinned lad, with light blond hair that stood in such stark contrast with his Nabatan tan. Next to him, in front of him, and all around him were weapons. Some in barrels, some displayed for all to see, some sitting on the counter of his stand. He got a permit to set up shop, and it's been... well not successful, but not a flop. Breaking even, at least, for the cost of material and the permit to set up the shop.

He was selling mostly souvenir weapons, replicas of famous weapons some of the arena combatants were said to be using. Lacking the quality, but mimicking the appearance almost flawlessly. People don't come to buy weapons, they want souvenirs. There's almost no chance a rushing combatant just so happened to 'forgot' their weapon and need to buy one from the kindly blacksmith selling knick-knacks and doodads. Occasionally someone wanted something so they can start their own journey, having been 'inspired' by the combat. (but of course that weapon will sit in some basement where the owner will always 'pick it up some other day' or hanging on a wall where they come up with wild stories to tell their friends and family) No, what people wanted was things that looked good. And that, that is Valcrist's forte. Over-complicated weapons that would never work in actual combat without heavy modifications, but looking at it just makes you think 'yeah, yeah that's cool'.

Of course he could make functional weapons as well, but those did not sell. So with a sigh, and swallowing of his pride he began to bellow once more. "Buy a weapon to mark this momentous day! A tournament this incredible only happens once in a blue moon! Don't go home empty handed! Fighters aren't the only ones who can get a great prize on a day like today!"

[Wyatt]

Wyatt was just as stunned with the massive crowd as Mana was. He'd never seen this many fighters in his life, lands alive did they all come here for the tournament?

[red]"Yikes...I knew there would be a lot of people here...but it really seems different when you see them all, right?"[/red] He said to her as the massive crowd started moving into the coliseum. The two of them were still near the back, no need to rush after all. There would be plenty of time yet, so they might as well wait until the crowd thinned a little bit. Wyatt laughed a bit at Mana's comment.

[red]"In this crowd, I doubt I would recognize my own mother."[/red] He called to her, as another voice rose over the lowering din of the crowd. Hawking weapons, how tired could you get? Wyatt's eyes turned in the direction of the shout, and he spied the booth before the person behind it. What Wyatt saw threatened to make him as red as his hair, fake weapons. Sure they looked real enough, to a normal person, but Wyatt was a smith too. Some shady imitations like that wouldn't fool him, and they only served to irritate him as he walked up to the booth with a scowl. He had every intention of humiliating this worthless charlatan.

[red]"So...this is your work, eh?"[/red] He questioned, a bit of venom in his voice as he set his hands on the counter. He raised his eyes to see the smith there, and stopped almost instantly. This face was familiar...but he couldn't remember.

[red]"You...I know you."[/red] He said, thinking back as he eyed the blond haired shopkeeper. [red]"You were with Sir Rayl, weren't you?"[/red] He questioned. He still looked mad, but at least he had stopped himself from making a scene.

[Mana]

"That can't be true!" Mana laughed at Wyatt's comment about how he wouldn't recognize his own mother. But he had a point here, in this crowd she would have a trouble finding a familiar face. Well, maybe Elias would be easy to spot because he probably would be loud enough to beat the crowd's loudness.

Suddenly, Wyatt seemed to change into a different person. Well, that was exaggerating, he was simply irritated. But it was kinda rare to see the kind man had that kind of expression. Before Mana could ask the man had already walked toward a weapon merchant. The Sacaen girl followed him silently, wondering what his intent was. "Hmm...These swords look kinda weird. I feel something wrong here but I can't put my finger on it," Mana thought when she saw the weapons on the counter. Maybe her knowledge about weapons couldn't be compared to Wyatt, but at least she noticed that these swords weren't for battle.

So Wyatt knew this person? Mana then eyed Valcrist. He had different skin tone and feature from the other people around. "Surely not a Bernese," she guessed. Well, he dressed nicely, his clothes almost felt like a Sacaen although it had some differences. His darker skin hinted that he might come from Nabata, the desert, the girl had heard a few things about that place. "Well, you've found one, Wyatt. Maybe I should look harder," she remarked. Was it coincidence? Anyway, maybe there was also someone she knew around here.

[Valcrist]

Someone was coming by, but it didn't feel like the serendipity it ought to. Now, Valcrist was incredibly dull in all things social, cues and obvious mistakes were invisible to him, but even he could feel the enmity from the red haired man. He was taken aback, at a lack for words for a second, before shaking his head and returning to the planet.

He asked about a Rayl. The name was familiar, of course, any traveler worth their salt knew of Rayl. It was a long time ago, he had just started traveling, but for a little bit he traveled with the golden lance. "I wasn't with any Rayl, but I travelled with his troop for a short time while being lead by a sir Gabriel." He recalled, tapping his chin lightly. This man was familiar, quite familiar, Valcrist never forgot a face. Names, however, where a foreign and lost art to him. "I think I remember you as well." But where? It wasn't vibrant, so whatever it was it wasn't a particularly important. Probably just some soldier coming for the tourney.

That wasn't the point, he asked about the souvenirs."These are replicas and souvenir weapons sir, they aren't meant for use in battle. While I did make them, they aren't my work so to speak." He tried to explain, he made sure to explain to every customer these weren't actual weapons, he had no intentions of passing off a knockoff as the real thing. "They're more like sculptures then weapons, if you want a real weapon you're better off checking the local smithy." He could show him his actual weapons, he actually brought a few with him that he had left over, just in case, but he didn't think it'd be such a good idea right now.

[Yaen]

Yaen almost hated to admit it, but Bern wasn't so bad. Yes, there was that tension in the air what with all the warring, and he had been worried that being Sacaen might single him out for some form of persecution or another, but thus far, he was enjoying his time here.

The Sacaen bit into the hot sweet roll he had just purchased as he wandered the different stalls that had been set up. Everywhere he looked, merchants, warriors, and spectators were to be seen. Everyone was excited for the tournament to begin. Then again, so was he. He was always anxious to practice his artwork, though. He wondered if Alan would be here. No, probably not, but the small possibility filled him with anticipation, good or bad he did not know.

Amongst the various shouts for foods, trinkets, clothes, and other such things, he heard the loud shout for weapons. Yaen's interest became piqued. His own swords suited him just fine, all four of them in fact, but even then, it wouldn't hurt just to take a look. There might even be some that were made in the sacaen style. Not likely, though.

When he approached the stall, there were already others there. Standing back in the crowd, Yaen almost choked on his sweet roll, and had to resist laughing. What a small world it was, indeed. He watched as the three interacted, Wyatt looking rather upset over something. Figuring he'd watched them enough, the Sacaen dropped his smile for a more monotonous stare as he approached. He brushed by Wyatt as he came to the stall, looking down at the weapons. Observing them for a moment, he picked up one sword and held it high. "A very nice design, Valcrist, but I'm afraid the weight is off too much for it to be practical." he commented, setting it down.

[Wyatt]

Wyatt was eying Valcrist oddly. [red]"I do remember you, I was one of the smiths with Sir Gabriel's company for a bit. I never imagined I'd see you here, making toys like this."[/red] He wanted to lay into the guy, about making fake weapons like this, but it isn't like he was trying to pass them off as legitimate. As he was debating what to do, he felt someone push by him and examine one of the weapons. He would have shot a comment to them, but then he heard that voice.

That arrogant, self centered and egotistical voice that had a knack for rubbing him the wrong way. It had been quite a while, Wyatt thought as he turned his head. [red]"Yaen? I should have guessed you'd be here. Been a while."[/red] He said, keeping his comments polite, no need to be aggressive off the bat. And he'd called the other smith Valcrist...that was right, he remembered now. At the time the kid had been tripping over himself following some nomad girl, but he did remember the Nabatan Smith. But then he realized that there was one member of the party not yet introduced.

[red]"Ah, Yaen, you've met Mana, haven't you?"[/red] He said, gesturing to her with a half smile. If nothing else, Mana's reaction promised to be interesting.

[Valcrist]

"Yeah that's because it's a replica, I don't have the same materials that the original is made of. Otherwise... it..." Wait. No. Please. He started to answer, still focused on the red haired man when the words finally began to sink in. Voice and all. He heard his name, when he never gave it, he closed his eyes tightly hoping when he opened them he wouldn't see who he thought he would.

One eye, then two. That blue garb was unmistakable, as was the blades hanging at his waist. The blacksmith spoke before he did and only added on to his fear. It was, it was Yaen. I hate the world Oh good, he was distracted by the other blacksmith. Maybe if Valcrist just snuck away... He could make money some other much less painful way. Like being a slave.

[Clair Feldsky]

Clair stood in the line of people and looked up and down it. She saw people of all types there. Many wore nondescript clothing, of course. The signature cloak over travel gear was common to every country's citizenry, but there were some oddballs too. There were a couple of sacaen warriors with curved blade and flowing garb. Numerous swordsman, and axefighters lined the path, with various mixtures of armor. Not all of them looked effective, and she wondered if it was vanity or coin that made the difference. If it was ignorance, she pitied them. There were nearly as many lance fighters as axemen, and occasionally, she would spot telltale signs that combatant had a mount which was either being left behind, or was going to be called in later.

She thought of Corona, her mighty white winged stallion, and felt an itch. It wasn't a real itch. More of an urge that now would be an excellent time to fly. A bit disappointed though, she put that our of her mind, and returned to studying others in the area. There was a big man a short distance away. Big beard. Big axe. Big hairy chest. The furs he wore attracted alot of attention as well. It was like he'd come out of the stories of the barbarian warriors of the Isles. There was the head of a mountain lion peaking over his his shoulder.... It was a part of his tunic.

She saw his gaze roaming up and down the crowd's much the same as hers, and turned away as his gaze swept over her. She was attracting some attention to, it seemed. She stood there, accepting the wait as inevitable, and tried to get stay loose and comfortable in the new leather armor she wore. It was black, in stark contrast to the Falcoknight gear she usually wore, though she'd kept the red trim along the edges. It was a shirt and pants, light and close fitting. It had tough pads across the chest, stomach, arms, thighs, forearms and anywhere else they would fit, but it had a way of remaining unrestrained near the joints which she'd been looking for. Overall, there was more protection than her usual armor, but she felt less sure knowing that it could be pierced. The breastplate and pauldrons she usally wore was more or less unbreachable, as it would deflect nearly any blow she took, as long as she maneuvered right. The hardened knuckles on her guantlets were there more for vanity than practicality, but the could provide a tool, even if she found herself unarmed someday. The breeze tugged the tan cloak she had slung over her shoulder back out of the way, to reveal the sword strapped to her side. The iron lance in her right hand was displayed openly though. No need to hide something as big as a walking stick.

The same breeze twitched a hair loose from where she'd tucked it behind her ear, and she reached up to move it back into place. It felt weird to not meet so many strands there as usual. She'd left behind the headband she usually wore, and had elected to tie her hair back instead. She was still getting used to the feel of having such a long and heavy ponytail on the back of her head. Usually, it all hung free though, and this was proving quite a bit easier, in its own way.

Bored for the moment, she revisited how she'd found herself here.... It was Delia Collin's fault, if it was anyone's. The blond haired falcoknight had been fully prepared to sit back and watch. Ready to try and relax during the show, and jump into flight if needed. Delia was the one in charge of looking after the new pegasus knights who were hoping to earn their wings in the Bern ordeal, and soon enough, she'd started whispering about the tourney, and how fulfilling it would be to test herself against so many.... Things would be fine. She could handle scout and lookout duties, and if anything happened, Clair would be the first to know. Unless Richter was the first, but that would hardly make a difference. So, with a little bit of extra encouragement, and extra safeguards and safeties established by the Falcoknight, she'd finally relented to her subcommander's wishes, and gone to Richter to talk to him about it. Now she was here.

[Kenshin]

Kenshin had longed to sleep on a real bed instead of the make shift ones he had grown so used it, the feeling of sleeping on a cloud had caused him to wake up much later than he had wanted the past few days. This was the morning he had wished he didn't, he was wanting to be there soon enough to get a good seat. As he was making his way to the gates of the coliseum something caught his ear, replica weapons for sell? He wondered if any Sacean blades were for sell, mainly the Falcatta. Trimgto cut through the crowd was like a salmon swimming upstream, now he could see the stand. He wasn't able to make out any weapons from where he stood but three faces around it stuck out.

Approaching the stand Kenshin placed his left hand on Mana's right shoulder "It's nice to see you so soon young Maiden of the Blade." Kenshin brought his hand back to his side as he looked at Wyatt and gave him a nod while greeting him with a hello. His gaze stopped on Yaen, does he still hold whatever grudge he had years ago or did it end with their duel. He decided it would be best to wait for him to respond to his arrival before talking to him.

[Kyo]

A big event like this meant easy money for Kyo. The pockets of people in the crowd were easy pickings, it was almost impossible for the guards stationed about to keep an eye on everyone as long as one had a deft hand and wasn't too greedy with their targets. Kyo was sure plenty of thieves would be caught before this day was done, and he was equally sure that he would not be one of them.

Excepting natural disasters of course. One had to have confidence, but one also had to remain cautious. His pockets were already lined with other people's money, so there was no reason to continue on his stealing spree. All he had to do now was enjoy the event, see the sights. Maybe he'd pump some of the stolen gold back into some of the con games that were being run, help out some of the up and coming scoundrels. The idea put a grin on his face, he had run several games like that, some not too long ago.

So, as Kyo wandered around aimlessly, he spotted a crowd outside of a souvenier weapons stall. ''Souvenier weapons, eh? Can't say I'm too interested...', Kyo thought to himself, continuing to walk. However, as he was passing by, he spared a glance towards the stand and saw a man he wasn't expecting to see walk up to the forming crowd. Kenshin.

''Uh oh. Oh crap, did he recognize me?' Even after all this time, Kyo recognized Kenshin's face. After all, it was a part of his business. However, if Kenshin had caught sight of him and recognized him, Kenshin was also probably smart enough to put two and two together and know that Kyo was walking around with the gold of the innocent. Not that the gold would be able to be returned to its rightful owner by this point, there were just too many people here. Luckily, judging from Kyo's glance, it looked like Kenshin was in a conversation with others. Kyo wasn't going to push his luck. Taking his eyes off the swordsman, he set his eyes forward and kept walking. 'Maybe I got lucky and he didn't even see me.'

[Mana]

Mana watched the two guys starting to remember each other. It was an interesting story, to really meet someone he knew in this crowd. Valcrist then mentioned someone's name she didn't knew. Sir Gabriel. Maybe that name would be recognized by many people, but unfortunately Mana didn't. The girl decided to keep silent and watched them conversing. Somehow, they felt like good friends. Quietly listening to the Nabatan blacksmith explanation about replica weapons, which was interesting, she wondered if Wyatt could make something like these. "Hmm...No wonder these swords look weird for me. They are only replicas, I should have known," she remarked.

And then...a familiar voice. Someone she knew did make an appearance, suddenly popping up from behind them. This man came and gave the two blacksmiths very different effect, mostly with Valcrist began to look pale. It was Yaen, a Sacaen swordmaster Mana had ever fought together, and honestly, someone she had crush on. She felt her heart throbbing harder with his sudden appearance. Wyatt seemed to have good intention here to bring her up into the conversation, but it seemed Mana wasn't ready to be "recognized" for now. Oh right, he knew that she liked the swordmaster. Maybe he was doing it to tease her.

Did the world really that small? At least she was happy that it was Yaen who showed up, although her reaction was more like embarassed than happy. Well, it was just surprising. "Yaen...Hello..." she said with a nod, looking rather nervous and covering her reddening cheeks with her hands. Last time, they parted way in Etruria. That time, they were in someone's house...Was it Saint? That time there was Wein too. Mana unconsciously searched for Wein figuring the archer would always be in Yaen's side. "It has been a while since we parted in Etruria. Where is Wein? I remember you guys are always together." Not sure what to say, she simply asked a simple question. "And ah...Umm...I am glad to see you again..." she added, looking away from Yaen.

It seemed her heart attack would continue as a hand landed on her shoulder. The owner of this hand then said, "It's nice to see you so soon young Maiden of the Blade." There was no mistake. This voice belonged to another swordman she adored more than Yaen. "Is this world really this small? Okay, maybe it really is...And by the way, what is this Maiden of the Blade anyway?" she thought. Mana caught a glimpse of his long red hair, she wasn't mistaken at all, it was him! The girl turned to the red-haired man and looked up to hs face. "Kenshin! I can't believe it! It's nice to see you again! You left too fast at the shrine!" Her reaction was different from when she greet Yaen, this time she was more energetic and happy rathen than feeling nervous. It was different from the first time she met Kenshin, this time she wouldn't challenge him to duel, not right now at least.

[Richter Abend]

"I have to say, I like this idea much better," came a mutter from behind Clair.

The voice, a sort of cynical growl, belonged to a scarred man standing behind the pegasus knight. A bit over six feet tall, he towered over the woman, casting a shadow over her as the soft light of the morning sun lit up his back, and his green eyes could be seen wandering through the crowd as he spoke, as if identifying future challengers with an almost predatory anticipation.

His head was a mess of long black hair, held together by little more than a pony tail in the back and a headband around his forehead to keep whatever was left out of his face. He wore no shirt, only a half-buttoned leather jerkin, which went well with his scuffed, ruddy, slightly torn wool pants. His armor consisted of two steel plate guantlets, two iron plate greaves, and a studded leather and chainmail cuirass, designed to be as protective as possible without restricting movement. All of this was topped off by two hard leather pauldrons strapped to his shoulders. A small axe was buckled around his waist, and slung across his back was a sheathed, two handed great sword. The look was a bit slipshod, but that seemed to be the norm.

Disguised as he was, Richter felt fairly confident he wouldn't be recognized in this crowd. Hell, he had even gone so far as to dye his hair, which had involved some woman running oil through it that had had some decapitated lizard cooked in it, so the extra-effort better pay off. Still, the commander couldn't help but bare an amused looked upon his face. He had fully expected to play the role of the silent observer, a noble lady's bodyguard sitting quietly in the stands, ready to act if any rebels reared their ugly heads, but Clair had come to him saying she wanted to be in the competition, which given a few moments thought, was a better idea.

Not only were they better off acting the parts of tournament fighters, but said roles put them closer to the event. In the stands, they'd only have access to the stands, but as fighters, they'd have access to the arena itself, as well as the competitor's tents. This was ideal, as if the rebels were planning anything, they'd be doing it from behind the scenes.

That, and it had been awhile since Richter had gotten to crack some heads. He could play the commander role well enough, but where he excelled was behind a blade, and here he didn't have to be out for blood.

Shifting his weight from one side to the other, the disguised Ilian rested his right hand on his axe-handle before speaking some more.
"They've really brought in fighters from all over Elibe with this tournament, haven't they?" His comment directed mostly at Clair, Richter's eyes continued to scan the crowds. A small bubble of excitement rose up from within his chest, causing the disguised commander to clench his fists as he suppressed it. He'd never been a setting like this, where all of his potential opponents sat waiting before him. This was different from war. "I wonder if most of them will put up a good fight," he wondered aloud. Quietly, however, he wondered how many of them were rebels.

[Yaen]

Yaen thought the look on Valcrist's face was priceless, but kept his own face monotonously stern. "So this is where you had wandered off too." he said sternly. Luckily for Valcrist, his attention was taken by Wyatt.

"Wyatt. It's been some time, I'm glad to see you are doing well." he greeted. "You've grown quite a bit, haven't you? I don't recall your arms being that thick last we met." he added, noting the additional muscle the redhead had developed. Of course, then Wyatt decided to juggle his attention to Mana.

"Yes, we've met." he replied, giving her a light bow. "Greetings, plains sister. It's good to see you again." He smiled as she covered her cheeks to hide a coming blush, feeling rather flattered himself as well as oblivious to the much lighter blush coloring his cheeks from realising that she was blushing over him. "That is a very good question. It seems that somewhere along our travels, our roads diverged. He took one path, and I the other. In other words, I came this way to get something to eat from one of the stands, and he went to look at the knick knacks." he confessed.

By now, he'd figured the reunions were over, but as was usual, it seemed that his life defied his assumptions. That red figure was unmistakeable. The Demon met his eyes, and Yaen gave a bow of respect to the older swordsman. There was no ill will. Kenshin had given him what he had wanted, what he had needed. He was no longer an obstacle in Yaen's path, but a Master of the sword that deserved respect. "Master Kenshin. It is good to see you as well." he greeted. "This is," he cast a look towards the stall and saw Valcrist trying to retreat, and so reached out to catch him, "my student, Valcrist."