505-06-17 Spring Festival Horse Race
From Crossroads Wiki
The Riders: Angus (NPC), Arthur, Briony, Cael, Carter, Denali, Dorian, Phoenix, Serath
The Audience: Ahnlana, Bella, Conrad, Marduke, Micah, Oksana, Phailin, Phineas, Vivane
RL Date: June 5, 2008
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Open Pasture South - Northern Gateway Isle
The green grass of the pasture stretches on down from the city walls to the road, a white open space dotted by wildflowers that can be used for all manner of purposes, varying from fetes to jousting matches and many other situations.
As she has come to the other events of the festival, Oksana walks in without a horse. She's here to spectate, moving in the direction of the seating area to settle in and watch. Her satchel is with her, surely so she can take notes.
Serath approaches down the road with what can only be an old towering black warhorse. The man is not garbed in black robe today but of a brown leather vest and a green cloak. His gaze idly moving across the pasture in curiosity as he nears those gathered, he casts a smile as his gaze falls over Carter and Phineas, addressing them in good humor, "Good day. Fine day for some mischief, is it not?"
Oddly enough, the red-headed boy who is just arriving from the direction of the castle is not actually *riding* the horse that is with him, but instead leading it by its bridle. Arthur walks along the little bay mare as placidly as the horse itself, dressed in his plain stableboy clothes. He seems fairly comfortable with the animal, the only thing really out of place on his person a brilliantly colored silk scarf with the insignia of the Emerald Hollow embroidered on the ends. Every once in a while, his free hand plucks at the scarf as if he's not sure what to do with it.
Dorian clip-clops in on his own horse, a grey stallion. Nice to be part of the ducal family. Unfortunately for him, the horse is more for safety than speed, but at least he'll have a bit of fun galloping.
"Ach! Damn the loch that spit that wee bastard out! I'm goin' to run his skinny ass into the ground then drink him deeper still when we're finished!" Striding across the field, Angus Maguire makes a rude gesture to a couple of men somewhere behind him. He is a tall skinny fellow with blazing bright blue eyes. Atop his head a white wild shock of hair is like a beacon amongst all the greenery. In his hands he's carrying a flagon of warrior's milk. In his other hand he's holding the reigns of a shaggy little Dun Artan pony which appears to be the jest of the men he's just flipped off. "Don't listen to them Buttercup," he reassures the shaggy animal. "They ain't seen you run yet."
Cael rides in on his horse, clad in riding leathers and his day to day clothes. A heavy warhorse - Cael guiding the mount in with light flicks of his fingers on the reins, nudges with his knees as he moves to the gathering area and throws himself from the saddle - stroking the muzzle of the horse and murmuring to it.
Phineas glances at Serath's arrival and smirks. "Fine, fine day for trouble, but hopefully not during the race. Ya participatin'?" he asks the man, congenial and laid back. He links his arms over his chest as he watches the horses gather.
Carter tugs on his riding gloves, wiggling his fingers into the tips to make sure the fit is snug. A glance is cast over his shoulder to see if the servant is returning yet with that horse, growing a little anxious as race time draws closer. "Looks like a good turn out." he comments to Phineas, starting idle banter and smiling when at last the servant can be seen leading a brown mare by the reigns. A gentle swish of the tale is given, the horse behaving itself as it's lead to it's rider.
Phoenix arrives leading a large magnificent black gelding. The horse prances beside him, head low as it chews anxiously at the bit in its mouth. Murmuring under his breath, words, inaudible, Nix has one gloved hand on the animal's neck. Decorated in Imperial colors, the saddle pad on the horse matches the ribbon tied around the man's right arm. Gracefully, Phoenix swings up into the saddle, settling himself comfortably. The horse is recognizable as one of the Empress' own.
Serath just seems to grin at Phineas' comment, "I'm participating, that's about it, good sir. I would hope no trouble during the race, though I fear my old boy may not be quite as fast as he used to be." The black warhorse lifts his head a little and gives a toss of his head before Serath gives his neck a rub, "He needed a good workout, regardless." He laughs with a wry grin, "This is not going to be our shining moment."
Once he's arrived in the gathering area, poor Arthur gives the whole affair a brief, somewhat wide-eyed look. That passes by quickly, however, and instead he leans to the side to rub the mare's neck, talking to her in a quiet tone that's clearly not meant for anyone else. If Phoenix's horse is recognizable as the Empress, Arthur's is perhaps less-so as belonging to Baroness Emerald Hollow.
Carter takes a moment to inspect the horse once it's arrived, "Ember you say?" he murmurs when the servant provides him with the name, "Send my thanks to the Empress and I'll come let her know how it went after." A gloved hand is ran over the horse's side and neck, pausing to breath softly into Ember's face as they both grow familiar with each other. "You ready?" he asks plainly enough and seems quite content with the lack of agitation before he moves to the saddle bearing the trappings of the Imperial family, again one of the Empress' own. "Wish me luck." He offers to Phin, mounting up and clucking his tongue to spur the horse gently on to the other riders in the gathering area.
Beneath Phoenix, the black gelding tosses its head. The energy of the other gathering horses shivers through Tinder. He moves sideways, eyes wide with keen intelligence. Although Phoenix keeps his seat, it is clear that this massive beast fully expects to be in control.
Cael finishes murmuring ot his horse and throws himself into the saddle. He arranges himself on the cavalry saddle, adjusting his knees and loosely gripping the large warhorse with his knees and fingers on the reins. He looks around to the other riders, taking in the surroundings - and bowing politely to the nobles around him.
"Son of the Fields, do us proud!" Phineas calls to Carter. "You too, Nix, Briony!" Phineas chuckles and actually just settles on the grass to watch the event.
Dorian easily maneuvers his mount through the field, scanning the course ahead of him. Doesn't look /too/ difficult, and looks fun. He'll, of course, just try to compete the course safely.
The horse Arthur's been leading is a palfrey at best, no destrider or charger here. Nevertheless, he swings into the saddle easily, after a moment, completely at ease with the entire motion. Phineas' yelling draws his attention just long enough for him to decide maybe if he doesn't look in that direction too long, he won't have the uncomfortable scrutiny of the Duke, and to look away.
On the periphery of all the action, Angus checks the cinch on Buttercup's saddle before mounting up. He tips the wineskin back for one final swallow before casually tosses it aside to a nearby spectator. "Here ya go lass, hold onto this for me, will yeah?" He gives the girl a wink, pulling his riding crop from his boot. Next to the tall horses, Angus' head barely comes up to the saddles of those around him. "Got me an eyeful of ass," he says with a grin. "Come on Buttercup, let's show them Dun Artan pride."
Briony presides over the gathering dressed in leather breeches and a peasant shirt under a leather vest. Her hair is twisted back, so only a few random curls swirl against her cheeks. She looks over the participants, leading her own tall grey mount besides her, the horse slapping the bit nervously and capering in place, turning the grass with his hooves. "Welcome!" she calls, vaulting up into the saddle and settling herself. "All those racing today, step up to the line!" A line of chalk has been drawn in the grass. "Make sure you familiarize yourself with the course map."
Cael is looking out over the map, stuffing the copy into his pocket. He looks out over the course, gently guiding his heavy dark warhorse to the chalk line nad settling there. He smiles at Briony, dipping his head politely before he leans over his horse to stroke it's head, murmuring to it before settling into his ready position. The heavy cavalry mount seems to gruffly respond with a toss of it's head before settling down.
Oksana settles on the ground and pulls out her notepad as she looks around at the different horses and people present. And the note-taking commences.
Carter stands up in the saddle and leans forward to get a better look at the course ahead. Lips are drawn between his teeth in concentration, while eyes are narrowed and his head bobs from side to side as if already planning his path. Once satisfied he nods once to himself and canters on up to the line, easing back on the reigns to stop from going over and peering down to make sure he hasn't breeched the threshold. "Good luck." he offers to those either side of him before amber eyes are turned back to the course.
After a few moments of relaxing, Phineas pushes to his feet and picks up Carter's bow and quiver, then saunters toward where Oksana settled. He drops down near her. "What're ya writin'?"
Striding in with an air of confidence, Vivane glances around the open pasture. She tilts her head admiring all the horses gathered with the eye of someone who knows horses. Her hazel eyes study one of the destriders as if looking for one that is suitable to her needs. Likely not for sale so she tosses her head and turns to watch what is happening around her.
Still mounted on a horse that's a mite too small for him, Arthur only leans forward a little, pushing the scarf around so that it will not fly in his face when the running starts. He squints at the course himself, gauging all the big jumps and this poor little creature he's asking to clear them. Quietly, he leans down again to encourage the mare, and she whickers at him, tossing her head briefly.
Oksana looks up at Phineas as he sits nearby, then shrugs. "Just some notes. About the horses, about the riders, who is riding for who, if I know their name. Why are you not racing, Your Grace?"
Serath's gaze settles on the course ahead of them, taking a few moments to assess before he motions the warhorse in direction to arrange a spot around the line. Gloved hands test their grip around the reigns before turning to the others that are lining up nearby, an almost sheepish grin on his face, "Best of luck!"
There is a white-clad bald guard that stands behind Oksana. Her player always forgets to pose that.
Ahnlana runs into the area, breathless and hair down as if she's just woken up, looking after the riders intently until she spots the right one. Then she squeals and jumps up and down. "Go, Arthur! You can do it!" Her hand claps over her mouth as that all comes out far louder than she meant it to.
She's a bit late to the game, as it were, but Denali shows up prepared nonetheless. She's borrowed a horse today, but still manages it well enough. Afterall, she's ridden into a battle before. An obstacle course should be no problem. Glancing over the map given, she tucks it aside and guides her mount over near Cael. "I propose that whichever of us loses first buys the other drinks."
Cael grins over at Denali and settles into his saddle a bit, as if trying to get comfortable. "Alright. That seems fair enough," he notes to her. "Seems like a winning situation in either case."
The red-headed boy turns at the Ahnlana's shout, and Arthur spares enough attention to give her a brief, fierce grin before his attention is back on the task at hand, and the horse he's mounted on.
Briony wheels her grey horse around and backs him, somewhat unwillingly, into the starting line. She gathers the reigns in her hand, raising her gloved hand above her head. "ON MY MARK!" she shouts over the sounds of horses and rider. Her hand holding the grey's head back, he canters in place as he feels the tension build. "RUN!"
Vivane watches the Marquis Draught as he is racing a horse and frowns as he isn't doing so well. She looks to the others as she has no idea who they are.
Annnnnnnd, they're off! Dorian isn't as competitive as most of the rest, so he doesn't kick off as much as the start, waiting until the hard-chargers take off before he moves with the rest of the pack. He'll watch them do all their obstacles first, so he can figure out what to do!
With a loud cry of "DUN ARTAN!" Angus whips and spurs that little pony from the starting line. The shaggy creature is off like a rocket. Mane and tail flying, legs pumping like a steam engine, ears flat back against her head, that little mare gives it all she's worth.
"It does indeed. I'm all for winning situations." Denali laughs softly to herself, keeping a decent hold on the reins. Once the signal is given, she leans into the horse a bit as they spur on forward. Certainly she's not flying out of the starting gate, as it were, as some do, but the movement is a good one and the Lady Caer Carthartha seems to have a more than decent hold upon her mount.
The moment Briony indicates the race is on, Arthur nudges his mount into action with the backs of his heels and an encouraged whoop. The little horse shoots off and he leans forward over her neck to make the running easier as her hooves kick up sod in their wake.
Briony on the grey wearing the colors of Burgundy Terrace make a good start, the horse pounding through the grassy fields down towards the first obstacle, which looks like a pile of hay stacked high. Leaned forward over the horse, she almost molds against his steely frame.
Run is no sooner yelled then Carter bellows a mighty "Hee-yaw!" and digs his heels into the flanks of the brown mare to send it leaping into a sprint across the starting line. Trying to break out in front to avoid the press and gaggle of the other riders. Crouching down low to the horses neck with his head peering up to watch his course, letting his mount churn up the grass and sod below with a thundering of hooves that eat up the ground.
Duke Phineas watches the race with interest, chuckling at the ambition of the pony. He mutters to Oksana, "... now,... is... the duke congratulates... of,... duke... in."
Cael takes off at a good clip - not near the front but not near the back, comfortably sort of in the front-middle. He grins at Denali but concentrates on his task, urging the dark heavy stallion on as he begins to lean forward. The horse settles into his pace, Cael peering forward.
Prancing up to the starting line, Phoenix's mount bites on the bit, tossing its head anxiously. Heels wedged deep into the stirrups, he holds the reigns tight, still whispering words to Tinder. The gelding will have none of it. It's too excited, rearing up on its hind legs in protest to standing still for even half a minute. Tinder is still turning in a circle when the cry to start goes off, resulting in not a very fast start for the Forester and his little sister's gelding. But one he starts running, Tinder takes his head, and Phoenix can do little other than hang on.
Even as she converses with Phineas, Oksana does continue to take notes. This is something she is well practiced in. "I see." Her gaze remains on the race rather than the branded Duke nearby. "Do you have a pick as to who might win?"
Serath's eyes narrow when Briony sounds for the race to begin and he digs his heels in with a whip of his reigns he directs the large warhorse into action with a loud, "Hyah!" With a clomping and a shower of dirt the warhorse kicks off with a rather impressive agility given it's size and right off the bat he nearly collides with Cael's horse as they thunder forward into the midst of the pack.
First Obstacle: Hay Stack - Hay stacked approximately 3 feet high, bound together with twine in soft log forms. The Top is soft to cushion any fall, and the sides give easily should any rider find him or herself thrown into the pile.
"All I'm hopin' at this point is that Dorian Claremont doesn't win it. The Fields can only take so much humiliation by that damn marquis in one week," Phineas says dryly to Oksana. "Though I'm favoring Briony, Nix, or Carter there. That boy Arthur's light, though, which might help."
Vivane applauds as Dorian manages to draw a little closer to the middle of the pack. She keeps her eye on the others, watching the leaders with interest.
Ahnlana glances over at Phineas and Oksana. "Arthur's excellent with horses. He could win." She edges closer, letting out another whoop. "That's the way to do it, Arthur. Ride hard!"
That boy Arthur also has a light horse, whose short legs stretch and strain to keep up with the bigger, longer strides of all the warhorses around her. She thunders down on the haybales without flinching, and just before the obstacle Arthur stands up in the saddle, allowing Sunflower to clear it entirely. Not with a whole lot of frills, but then again Arthur rarely does anything with frills.
Though she had a decent start, Denali is still learning the ways in which the mare she's riding behaves. The hay stack doesn't cause her to drop out of the race, persay, but it does slow her down some. The woman swears softly under her breath and tightens her grip upon the reins, clucking the horse onward towards the next obstacle. There's still time to overtake the others.
Briony 's grey appears to be better at the fences than at a straight sprint. The gelding huffs, approaching the fence with ears pricked. He sails over the piled straw, feet well above the highest strand, tail streaming behind him as he lands with plenty of room to spare.
Carter stares for a moment in disbelief at the sight of the rocketing pony, shaking his head and forcing himself to focus back on the course ahead. Thundering on towards the first obstacle and groaning at the hay bales, "WhyDidIEatSuchABigBrekfast!" flies from his lips followed by a quick prayer of "Think Light! Think really light!" clenching his jaw, as he braces the horse for the jump, closing his eyes while hoping to dear providence that he clears it and blowing out a breath of relief when he lands with a fluidity instead of a harsh, cruel collision with the ground.
The unlikely pair of Angus and Buttercup hold their own over the first jump. The little mare tucks her short legs up underneath her as she sails over the hay bales. With a "WHOOOP!" of encouragement, Angus pats the side of her neck. "That's my girl!"
There we go. Cael seems to have found his rhythm, sliding forward some and taking the jump with about the same ease that he showed in his start. Leaning forward and over, checking behind him with a quick glance before concentrating on the path ahead of him. "Attaboy," he breathes.
Dorian has no intention of winning this thing! He's hanging out near the back of the pack, not in last place but certainly closer to there than first. He easily navigates the haybales and looks forward to the next obstacle.
Phineas notes Ahnlana and aims a grin at her. "Lana. How ya been?" His attention strays back to the race, a shout of encouragement given to the racers as a whole.
Given his head, Tinder closes the distance on the open stretch between the other horses. Rising up slightly from the saddle, Phoenix rests his hands on the massive horses' neck. Ears pointed forward, Tinder takes stock of the hale bales. Just before leaping over, his ears lay flat back. He clears the jump, leaving a good two feet of air space between. Turning his head, Phoenix looks beyond this first jump to locate the second obstacle, tilting his body slightly to guide Tinder towards the river crossing.
Ahnlana grins at Phineas, a bit of pride in her expression. "I've been good, Your Grace," she curtsies. "Haven't been in trouble in weeks." Probably just cursed herself with that, but she can't help bragging.
Serath's steed doesn't seem to be very comfortable with obstacles given his tremendous size. What started off as an impressive burst of speed loses it's momentum nearly completely as Serath leads the warhorse to jump over the stack of hay. It does so, but it shows little grace in it's movement when he does so. Serath's dark eyes go wide with the awkward motion and he yells out, "Whoa!" And it's all he can do to momentarily grab on to the saddle to keep himself from being tossed off but he does manage to do so, before they proceed full tilt along the course with a thunderous gallop, having already lost a good amount of time. Perhaps this is why mistborn do not usually participate in horse races?
Oksana keeps her keen eyes on the race, though she does glance briefly at Ahnlana as Phineas greets her. There are no shouts or applause from the young studious woman. "It was a Guardian that won the pie eating contest, though. Not the Marquis. Though, I admit he was a close contender."
"Goddess herself be praised for that, Ahnlana," Phineas states to the Fielder woman with a chuckle. He eyes Oksana, surprised. "Was it? I thought it were Dorian. Shows how much attention I pay," he chuckles. "Well, even so."
Second Obstacle: River Crossing - Riders must plunge down a hillside and cross a rocky stream before mounting a steep bank on the opposite side of the stream. The rocks can be slippery, and the banks muddy, especially after the passage of many hooves.
Still not in first considering the soaring jumping abilities of some of the other horses in the field, Arthur and Sunflower are still putting up quite the proverbial fight. They're a little slowed by the attempt to cross the river, sliding on the rocks where the palfrey's hooves don't stick, but they make it without either horse nor rider pitching over into the water. Still leaning forward over the mare's neck, Wart pats it again and encourages her onwards. She's not at the back of the pack, but Denali isn't at the front either. She and her mount take the river crossing a bit easier than they had the hay stack, now growing used to one another. She squints ahead and appears to be keeping an eye on Cael, more than whoever is in the lead. Trying to make sure he buys the drinks, perhaps?
Ah momentum, she's a grand thing, likely admired by many people on Draught, not so much by Carter, at least not right now. No, typically the break neck speed he's built up would be just grand for a race, but the treachery of the river crossing has him pulling back on the reigns and yelling for Ember to whoa and slow down. Taking no chances with the Empress' personal horse and costing some of him some of the distance he had with some of the other riders in favor of safety and not breaking his neck or the horse's. "It was some man I do not know," Oksana tells Phineas. "And no one said his name within my ear shot." And still her hand moves over the parchment, taking notes on the race.
Cael seems to find his stride, slipping forward until he's closer to the front of the pack. He loses a touch of stride but regains it as he picks up speed heading towards the ravine. Urging his stallion on with quiet words, nudging the heavy warhorse into the air. A long jump, hitting the far side and continuing to thunder forward, close to Carter and Cael leaning forward, as if to urge his mount on faster.
Approaching the water obstacle, Buttercup slows slightly. It looks like she's going to hesitate. "Come on lassie!" Angus shouts encouragingly at her. "You can do it! It's just a wee puddle!" The little mare lets a few other horses jump in first, as if making sure nothing horrible happens to them. Then very carefully, she hops into the water as well. Her caution puts them further back in the pack now, but once on the other side, she is quick to pick up her pace again.
Briony charges down the steep ravine that forms the river crossing. The horse jumps the river somewhere high on the bank, gathering great tracks of the earth under his hooves as he careens up the far side. The Baroness clings to the saddle as if she were born there, bent to the horse's form.
Dorian suddenly realizes that being in the back end of the pack isn't the best idea for a water obstacle! Still, he plows through, getting quite a bit of soaking from Cael and Carter, a few lengths ahead of him. But it's a warm day, so he doesn't much mind...
Tinder's stride eats up the earth, his hooves thundering down the ravine, passing several of the other horses. Ears flattened, he leaps unquestionably into the river, clearing nearly half of it before landing. A huge spray of water haloing his black form. Leaning low against the brute's neck, Phoenix relinquishes one hand on the reigns to push his too-long hair, now soaking wet, out of his face. Plowing through the water, Tinder emerges from the other side.
