[CANON RP Episode] The Great Tournament



The primary purpose of this episode is to finally bring together the nations who will make up the Northern Alliance. After crowning herself Queen of Roklavia, Valentina Arloven petitioned to host a tournament in Smertangelsk, and sent out invitations to all the nations in question. The three founders of the Northern Alliance: Roklavia, Danheim, and Kleriel preside over the event as senior members. The new nations to be inducted are: Lasenor, Lexindon, Maruba, and Trojiem.

As an example of what the invitations were like, here are two:

To Maruba
To the renowned and all glorious Valdemar Kovac, Jarl of Maruba,

I cordially invite you to participate in a tourney, a contest of strength and agility, in our great capitol of Roklavia, Smertangelsk. Afterward we shall formally initiate you into the Northern Alliance with full intention to support you in trade and protect you in times of war. We have not forgotten your past ties to Roklavia, but we are willing to forget those matters and make our diplomatic relationship official in the world’s eyes. We expect you in two weeks time. Bring your finest champions and your honorable personage and we shall have a tournament, the finest Allura has ever seen.
Queen Valentina Arloven, first of her name, redeemer of Roklavia, and ruler of South Western Nordrenya.

To Danheim
To the renowned and all glorious Wesley Deniro, King in the North and favorite of Odin,

I cordially invite you to participate in a tourney, a contest of strength and agility, in our great capitol of Roklavia, Smertangelsk. Afterward we shall formally announce to the world our intention to support eachother in trade and times of war. We respect you as an equal and wish to make our diplomatic relationship official. We expect you in two weeks time. Bring your finest champions and your honorable personage and we shall have a tournament, the finest Midjord has ever seen.
Queen Valentina Arloven, first of her name, the Buccaneer Queen, and ruler of South Western Nordrenya.

The Great Tournament

The morning sun glinted of the gold rooftops of Smertangelsk, the whole city was bustling with preparations and heavy foot traffic in the crowded streets below. Today was the big day, the harbor was busier than ever before docking and accommodating ships from all over northern Allura. Just as anticipated, word of the tournament had spread far and wide, so not only did kings and champions arrive with their lofty fleets, but also sailors, merchants, visitors, adventurers, relatives visiting family…etc.

Since the death of Tishinitsa and the fall of the crime syndicate, Lady Valentina Arloven officially declared herself Queen, not that it mattered much since she was respected as a queen already. She began making major changes in the city, renovating the run down parts, and funding countless new buildings and homes. The Arena, only newly built, was her pride and joy as it sported a moat and large seating area, complete with a pit and roofs for shade. It was of course, built specifically for the tournament, but she had other plans for it later.

While in the past Valentina had little control over management of the city, now she called the shots. The army was undergoing some changes as well, and she had to appoint officers and commanders (mainly veterans of the revolution) to retrain their scrappy militia. Vadim had requested to have a small hit team of his own soldiers and was training them for covert operations.

Valentina sat in her office, high up above in the clocktower, munching on a last minute snack of roast partridge and bleu cheese. The blinds were all shut and the room was quite dark despite it being mid day. Only a few stubby candles lit the table as she ate. Vadim was gone for the day, overseeing the preparations. The guards she had were enough to protect her, not that she was worried. After picking the last bone clean, she took out her kerchief, wiped her mouth and walked over to a shelf on the wall where a gold ceremonial saber was hanging. She drew it from its sheathe, glancing at her reflection on the diamond edged steel. Her eyes flashed red. Ever since her “healing” the green had disappeared and turned blood red.

She then buckled the sword at her side and exited the office. The dim light in the hallway reminded her to cover up. Since the first episode with strong sunlight, Valentina always had to wear something to cover all her skin to avoid being burned by the sun’s rays. She donned her cap, gloves and buttoned up her jacket. Finally she took a leather mask tucked in her sash and put it on as she walked into a brighter part of the building. Her loosely braided hair waved behind her as she strode on. The light from the windows caused it to glow faintly. Before it had been bleach blonde, but now it had turned a ghostly white. As she approached the door to leave, the 4 guards standing at their posts saluted her.
Valentina dismissed them,“At ease.” She then walked to the double doors as two of the guards opened them for her.
“Belko, Melnik, with me! Time to greet our guests.”

Lásenor Full List
Maruba Full List

In Meridian, a letter had reached the royal palace. Held in hand by Archon Lyrien, It read:

She put down the letter to look at her two foreign advisers standing in front of her, Kesh and Lia.

‘‘A tournament?’’ she asked, confused.
’‘Yes, it is an event where athletes test their skills against one and other, with the best usually receiving some sort of reward. Usually a medal or coin.’’ explained Kesh in a very official sounding manner.
’‘Do we have athletes?’’ Lyrien asked.
’‘We do not host such events, it is a human thing. So… no, we do not.’’ he explained.
’‘Then what shall we do? Who should we send?’’ she asked, looking at the two with a hopeful stare.

After a moment of thought…
’‘Let the humans play their games, our main interest is the meeting.’’ groaned Kesh, unamused.
’‘We shouldn’t be like that, they could take it as rude. We should do our best to find the appropriate candidates, professionals if you will, the very best of Kleriel, to send to this tournament to not win, but at least show to them what we are made of, and that we are willing. I’m sure we can find people of acceptable strenght, agility, and wit for this one occasion in either the military, the hunter’s lodge, or even the common folk working hard jobs in industry!’’ Lia assured Lyrien enthusiastically.
’‘And how do we decide who gets to go?’’ asked Kesh.

And so, in the following week, a string of smaller tournaments were held across the imperium to decide who is the strongest, fastest, smartest, toughest, and cleverest of them all, and would be the one to go to Roklavia to test their prowess against those of foreign powers. Kleriel was ready, what about the others?

In roughly less than two weeks time since Lyrien recieved the invitation, as specified, the Keelish boarded one of their fancier airships and made liftoff, headed towards Smertangelsk. On board, besides the vessel’s full crew, was a reasonable detachment of Keelish troops to guard the both the ship and the athletes, as well as the chief of the diplomatic bit of the visit, Lia na-Vael.

Lia na-Vael
Image of Lia

With favourable winds, the airship glided through the aether currents with ease, and had arrived in Roklavia a day early. The ship slowed down as it neared the port and came to a full stop just above the docks. The Keelish used a magical hovering platform to descend from the airship and leave it floating as to not crowd the docks more than they already are.


To Danheim
To the renowned and all glorious Wesley Deniro, King in the North and favorite of Odin,
I cordially invite you to participate in a tourney, a contest of strength and agility, in our great capitol of Roklavia, Smertangelsk. Afterward we shall formally announce to the world our intention to support each other in trade and times of war. We respect you as an equal and wish to make our diplomatic relationship official. We expect you in two weeks time. Bring your finest champions and your honorable personage and we shall have a tournament, the finest Midjord has ever seen.
Queen Valentina Arloven, first of her name, the Buccaneer Queen, and ruler of South Western Nordrenya.

Wesley was sitting in his chair inside his hall, drinking a mug of mead with Frej and Erik while reading the letter. With large eyes he nearly jumped out of his chair and spit out his mead
"Frej Erik get me the Five best Berserkers and five best Valkyries we got." he said with joy in voice
Frej and Erik looked at him wondering what the hell was going on
"Oh my king why do we need to gather your best all of sudden?" Erik asked
" Belive it or not our dear Buccaneer Queen have invited us to a official meeting and a Tourney!, i cant recall the last time we had any of thoes this is gonna be great!" Wesley said back, That made the eyes of both Frej and Erik shine toruneys are always full of fun and enjoyment and in danheim’s case a few deaths atlest. Frej and Erik jumped out of their chairs and rushed out of the doors, Erik turned left to head to the military school and Frej to right to head to the Valkyrie order hall. Both of them had picked the ten best they had and made them battle for the chance to enter.
Wesley, Erik and Frej both bordered Fafnir while being escorted by Freja and Fenris same type of ships. 300 Danheimers heading to the city of pirates, morale on the ships were sky high.

After a short time traveling the high seas the city was in clear view, and Wesley was looking at the marvel
"By Odins mighty gray beard, if they wasn’t our friends and allies, i would had loved to sack this place to the ground, the city is a true marvel in the north. Frej why didn’t you tell me before?" he said to Frej whom were standing next him " You damn well know why" she fired back.

The three ships slowly and steady made it to the dock. Fafnir lowered it ramp and Wesley was ready to ride down on his Bear while Erik and Frej was on his side, Wesley’s personal royal guard was behind him and down the ramp it went.


Valentina walked along the streets from the governmental palace to the arena. All around her, men and women were preparing booths, repainting buildings, cooking copious amounts of food. Passerbys doffed their caps as they passed her with a polite “Good morning, your Grace!” and "What a blessing to meet you, your Grace!.

As she approached the arena, she could hear the clashing and ringing of blades as tournament contestants practiced on the newly-laid smooth sandstone floor. The orange and white flags on the surrounding towers fluttered merrily in the breeze, which was delightfully cool. Thank you Svetlitsa for our cold summers, I won’t be sweating to death in all this clothes Valentina thought. Tables laden with weapons and armor lined the outer edges of the arena. A huge pile of blue and orange surcoats lay neatly folded on one of the tables. They were to be used to differentiate teams in the upcoming melee.

“Move your feet merzavets! If a Danheim berserker saw you shuffling around pathetically like that he’d bloody well just knock you over!” Vadim’s voice. As Valentina ascended the stairs, she saw the Spymaster watching two young men fighting in the center of the arena with longswords. They were sweating profusely despite the cool weather, as they were wearing polished steel full-plate armor. Roklavs weren’t used to such crude weapons such as broadswords, but in a tournament, primitive weaponry combined with masterwork armor proved to make a safer, more forgiving fight. Vadim’s hands were clasped behind his back and he looked ticked off. One of the men drew a dagger in the middle of the fight and brought it up to the other mans neck, dangerously close to the gap in his armor. “Stop!!!”, Vadim bellowed, “Don’t take it so seriously Ivanar, you’re not trying to kill him.” Ivanar put on a displeased expression. Vadim gave him a sly smile,“Of course if its a Kleriel insect freak, some light maiming?”

“VADIM!” Valentina yelled.

He turned around in surprise, “My Lady- Your Grace! I didn’t know you were here.” He looked embarrassed.

“The Keelish are our friends, and we are indebted to them for their extermination of the Syndicate. IS THAT CLEAR?”

“Yes, your Grace…” Vadim looked down at his feet. Ever since he encountered his first Keelish, he made fun of their insect-like faces, quite openly. The same way he made fun of: Marubans, dwarves, Xials, and many other races. It was a bad habit.

Valentina huffed angrily, turned on her heel, and headed towards the docks.

The foghorn gave out a mellow blast, signalling the arrival of one of their guests. Valentina looked up at the incoming Kleriel airship and wondered how she hadn’t noticed it sooner. Oh well. As the Kleriel diplomats descended on the floating platform, she raised an eyebrow. Impressive, I forgot how advanced these people are. Hmmm. Walking along the dock with Private Belko and Private Melnik close behind her she called out to them,“Welcome, my lords and ladies!” She motioned the harbor workers to help them with their luggage. “I hope your trip was pleasant? I’ve prepared rooms for you in the government palace, please make yourselves at home.”


The Keelish plonked their gear from the platform on to the ground as they stepped off.

‘‘Greetings! Lia na-Vael is my name, a pleasure to finally meet you, your excellency.’’ smiled Lia after bowing to the monarch respectfully. ‘‘Archon Lyrien sends her regards. As was her wish, we have brough with us a git for you. A sapling of our beloved cherry blossom tree. May it grow and prosper as do our relations!’’

After everyone was off, the platform flew back up to the ship. One of the servants they had brought with them approached Valentina with the sapling in a large pot, and as he bowed, he stretched out his arms to hold it up towards the Roklavs as a gesture to take it off his hands.


And so Virion and Meira left the safe confines of the Lásenor Mountains for something greater. Their journey across the great northern sea was long and tiring, but with each other they loved every moment of it.
    Several weeks later, the awe-inspiring city of Smertangelsk came into view. Neither of them were prepared at all for the sight. Lásenor was a tiny village in comparison, a mere scattering of houses compared to this metropolis of red and white. Buildings towered hundreds of metres in the air, with smoke billowing from the rooftops.
    The boat pulled into the docks, and, with astonishing practiced grace, the dockhands brought it in and tied it down. Virion and Meira were escorted by deckhands to a waiting area nearby, where they sat, waiting to be recieved.


Valentina accepted the plant graciously. Already a pink blossom was blooming on it.

“This will have a special place in my garden…when I build it. Thank you.”

She handed off the tree to Melnik,“Take this to my office and make sure the maid waters it properly”

She bowed to the Keelish nobles and they followed their escorts to their rooms in the palace.

It was only another hour before the fog horn sounded again followed by roaring cheers and the bashing of shields from the viking ships that sailed into the harbor. The heavy clinking of boots on the dock signified the arrival of King Wesley Deniro, followed by a host of warriors and valkyrie.

“Greetings Deniro. Your first time here isn’t it? When I said bring champions I was expecting two or three. This is quite the turn-up.” Valentina’s voice was slightly muffled by her mask as she reached her arm out towards him for a handshake. The docks were slowly getting crowded with hundreds of axes and horned helmets. She grabbed his hand and whispered,“Please keep your men in check, my turf, my laws. Understood?”


Wesley reached his hand down from his bear accepting the handshake
" Greeting my dear, and aye first time here, well i took my best and some guards and people that wish to trade and enjoy the place while we’re here anyway." he said with a smile on his lip
Frej and Erik both bowed in front of Valentina
" Beside we always behave when we’re guests, we do aim to return here, now it is custom to bring a gift, so this time i’m giving you the gift of music which will be played under feast. There’s gonna be a feast right?" he said lightly, as people started to disembark the other ships. " Now where would my champions and i be staying?" he asked


The sun stood high over the Fehérvár walls, and atop the mountain it situated on, in a dimly lit chamber, 8 people were discussing animatedly across a sturdy wooden table.

The day before, a letter had arrived at the post office of Maruba. It had read:

To the renowned and all glorious Valdemar Kovac, Jarl of Maruba,

I cordially invite you to participate in a tourney, a contest of strength and agility, in our great capitol of Roklavia, Smertangelsk. Afterward we shall formally initiate you into the Northern Alliance with full intention to support you in trade and protect you in times of war. We have not forgotten your past ties to Roklavia, but we are willing to forget those matters and make our diplomatic relationship official in the world’s eyes. We expect you in two weeks time. Bring your finest champions and your honorable personage and we shall have a tournament, the finest Allura has ever seen.

Queen Valentina Arloven, first of her name, redeemer of Roklavia, and ruler of South Western Nordrenya.

The letter had been opened by a wary Valdemar, whose facial expression turned first into surprise, after which it landed on a thoughtful brooding look, which aged the man’s appearance by quite a lot.

He called for the council to be gathered, and also sent for his wife, the lovely Alma, to join the discussion. He did this on a regular basis, and the other council members knew very well the her sheer presence was a sign of an inner fight within the Jarl, as she lacked a council vote of her own.

The struggle had not subsided until nightfall. Positive claims like; ”we’ll show them our place in the world mylord! We’ll show them we’re worthy of our sovereignty,” and ”this will be the time and place to let Maruba enter the northern markets at a new level,” were intertwined with fearful comments like ”it’s a trap mylord, don’t risk it,” as well as the low spirited regards of ”we’ll just be laughed at, what chance do we stand?

The Jarl slept uneasily that night, and the meeting resumed at sunrise once again. As Valdemar ran up the stairs to the council chambers however, he found councilman Vitéz waiting for him outside the door. ”May I have a word before we enter mylord?” he asked seriously. Valdemar frowned. ”Sure János, what is the matter?
I’m serious about what I said yesterday milord,” János began, ”this is an opportunity to show ourselves to the world as we haven’t had since we founded the city! Have courage Valdemar, have faith” Valdemar hesitated for a few seconds, then asked, ”part of your family is lives in Smertangelsk, correct?
That is the truth, mylord,” János responded, ”our house was burnt to the ground, along with half the neighborhood, and my daughter and I were separated from the rest of the family. We fled the very same night, on councilman Petöfi’s ship, as you very well know my lord.

Valdemar looked at the mustache adorned man. ”I shall take that into consideration!” he said finally, ”now come, we will miss the meeting!

Eventually, the meeting ended with a János with mixed feelings. His wish for Maruba to participate had been fulfilled, he however, was not to come with. In the jarls own words, ”if we walk into a trap, who will defend our creation?
Instead he was tasked to select the very best athletes he could find from his mere ranks, as well as assembling their guard, a shiny shadow who’d protect and show off the maruban power, a dozen man strong. Leaflets were set up offering a total of 10 willows to all who were selected, and minor tournaments were arranged during the next week in a multitude of tasks.

A response was also drafted to the roklavian queen;

To the redeemer of Roklavia, the fair Queen Valentina Arloven, first of her name, ruler of South Western Nordrenya.

In the name of the Free City of Maruba, I Jarl Valdemar Kovac, hereby accept the invitation, and shall be arriving on the aforementioned date with a select group of champions, as well as a small escort force, to the mighty Smertangelsk.

There are scars which truly never heal, I trust you know that. I agree however, that the one and only true path for our peoples is forward, past our scars and grudges. I am therefor willing to bury the hatchet between the people of Roklavia, and us exiled, if you are.

I do however, have a request to you, fair Valentina. As a sign of good will, let those driven from their families return, if only for the time of the tournament, so that they can once again see their loved ones.

With honor,
Jarl Valdemar I Kovac of the Free City of Maruba

Two ships were readied for the squad and the maruban colors of red and green were fluttering happily in the wind as they glided majestically out of the Red Harbor and out to sea.

As they neared the docks of Smertangelsk, Valdemar pondered about how little he’d ever appreciated the beauty of the large golden roofed buildings with their marble angels. There were already people on the piers. The Danheim colors were clearly distinguishable amongst others.



"Danheimers have a good musicians eh? Very well."
Valentina motioned Wesley towards the palace,
"Follow, my guard here and he’ll take you to your quarters. As for the rest of your people, we have enough taverns and inns to accommodate them all, although it will be a tight fit. She waved them off, and stood ready to receive more guests.

As the Maruban diplomats walked along the docks towards the city gate, they were followed by hundreds of wary eyes. A couple of deckhands spat at Valdemar’s feet as he passed by. Whispers of “wretch” and “traitor” could be heard in the crowd. Apparently, they weren’t riled up enough to lynch them, but the hostility enveloped them like a choking smog.

Valentina had just turned away from the Kleriel officials and saw Valdemar approaching. To the Marubans’ shock she greeted them cordially, she wore the leather mask, which left them guessing as to who she was. “Welcome, my lords, to Smertangelsk! Follow me.” She motioned to them. They walked further in on the docks and in through the gate. One of the Marubans split off from the group and rushed over to a young woman with blonde hair in the crowd,“Natalia, I’m home!”

“Artyom!!!” She squealed in surprise, embracing her brother who she hadn’t seen for years. “Mama wants to see you as soon as possible!” They walked off into the bustling streets.

The party stopped for a moment, observing the warm reunion. "As for your request Boyar Kovac, I grant it freely. I intend for any of your people to have free passage in and out my country.

Valdemar suddenly realized it was no ordinary escort who had been leading them…


After a brief discussion with Valdemar, Valentina returned to the docks as the foghorn was now blowing almost every thirty minutes. Being a host was tiring work, but she insisted on doing the greetings herself, in person.

As she returned, she saw smaller ship with an unknown banner waving on the mast. A young couple disembarked, followed by a small entourage. Valentina strode right up to them and spoke,“My good people, welcome to Smertangelsk. Who do I have the pleasure of greeting?” She took the lady’s hand in gentle shake.



“Meira, daughter of Ailreth, and Virion, son of Orthen,” Meira said. “We are here of behalf of Her Majesty the Queen of Lásenor as her daughter and son-in-law to be. It is a great pleasure to make your acquaintance.”


A few blocks into town, the maruban entourage were making their way along the crowded high street. Every pair of eyes which turned their way showed a new emotion; hatred, curiosity, hope. Valdemar noticed that he was getting most of the negative bits, but did a show of not noticing the hissing commoners they past. As they approached a square, another one of his champions found a relative. “Jaro, Jaro! It’s mum! Jaromír! Over here!” Councilman Hajdú almost fell headlong into a nearby table of baskets as the curvy woman hastened past him, bustling him out of the way. The soldier lost all thoughts of being on duty as he saw her, breaking rank and running to meet her. The others closed ranks to fill Jaromír´s empty spot, watching the crowd somewhat nervously still.

Artyom walked in through the door as the group were attempting to get rooms at a local inn. To avoid the innkeeper denying them rooms due to his presence, Valdemar was lurking in the background, drawing as little attention to himself as possible. “Never seen you happier, lad, how’s the family?” Bogdán said, walking over with a bundle of keys he’d gotten from the inkeeper. “Sir, if you don’t mind, I would like to stay with my mother while we’re here!” the young man replied. “She’s preparing some fine bab for dinner!” Bogdán brooded for a moment, then said, “** I will allow you to stay with them until the competitions begin, but after that, I want all to remain with the squad, understood?**” “Yes sir, completely sir!” Arty said, pleased. “Take Tom with you will you though?” Bogdán continued, “never seen a city this big, the boy hasn’t or so lord Vitéz tells me at any rate, so he’ll need some supervision!” Artyom nodded, turned to the bewildered looking Tom, a pale man in his early thirties who was looking intensely at the rather impressive beer list, stuck to the opposite wall with a small knife. “Forget the beer mate,” he said, “tonight you’re getting bab! Come on!” Tom looked over to where the leaders stood, and after a short nod from Valdemar, he took of after Artyom.

They pushed themselves through the door and through the small crowd of fur wearing people now making their way inside. “Did I hear bab?” one of the men said loudly, hungrily looking out after the two men disappearing down the street. “Focus, Erik!” a woman retorted agitatedly. “Rooms first!
I am sorry gentlemen, Valdemar said softly, we’ve just taken the last available ones.


Wesley, Erik and Frej entered the Inn, with their escort looking to calm their thirst after some sight seeing

(<-- the escort)

as they heard what the Maruban said, Wesley stepped forward abit and said
" Good thing we ain’t here for rooms, we’re here for some of the local beer"
Erik on the other hand stepped forward aswell " Also your speaking to the King of Danheim, Wesley son of Jan the first and rightful King of Danheim. So show some respect" he said in his commander voice as if he were speaking to his grunts back home, Frej just placed his hand on her face, thinking for herself, well this is going great


The Keelish marched down the streets, looking for a place to stay. The main entourage have been granted rooms in the royal palace, while the rest had to search the town for any free rooms at the local inns.

As they walked the streets of the city, they too received many uncomfortable stares, silent judgements, but none had the gall to bark that famous Roklavian racism at them, even if they were thinking it. The Keelish did feel the tension though, so they put on their hoodies to conceal themselves somewhat, so they aren’t recognisable over a mile.

Eventually they did find an inn, and as they approached, it seemed a number of Valentina’s other guests were stuck right in the doorway, chatting. The group stopped somewhat behind them and waited for them to notice, hopefully, and move out of the way.


Valdemar smiled slightly. “I’ve heard of you, Wesley, son of Jan! Danheim is in many ways one of the brightest stars of the north! I salute you! You’re here for the same reason we are I dare say.” He stopped talking for a moment, then carried on, “to avoid rudeness, I shall of course introduce myself as well. My name is Valdemar Kovac, and I am the Jarl of the proud free city of Maruba! We get plenty of your traders along our shores,” he continued with a friendly grin, “not to mention our inns! Will you honor us for the duration of a round?

Before Wesley, or any of the tall figures in front of them had time to answer however, a new group entered, pushing them further into the hall. Before the stunned humans now stood the most peculiar creatures Valdemar had ever seen, and that was saying something, as he’d visited the building site for the new marubi neighborhood. Slim and tall, these newcomers wore hoods which hid their faces slightly, but not enough to mark that these undoubtedly were kael, or keelish, as they apparently preferred it. “Well this ought to be fun!” Valdemar said into the silence which had erupted at the kael arrival, “care to join us for a glass?


“Aye we can go for a round or two, before heading off we got lots see before the tournament starts” Wesley said. He nodded to his escort, and they formed a “plow” and marched the king and the jarl over to a Table
local patrons, were moved or moved away on their own, by the sight of these masked, armed and bulky men
"By the way This is Warmarshal Erik Iron Axe Son of Torheim the sea lord and The fair blonde Woman behind me is my Lead Valkyrie Frej daughter of Johan Iron face and they shall be joining us aswell" he said as they all sat down, a waiter whom clearly were sweating and looked tiered came over and asked what i would be " My dear we will have the best mead or beer you got and a tall mug of it aswell" Wesley said to waiter who only nodded and did a head count before moving on. Not that long after she came back barely able to hold the mugs sitting down them onto the table, one of the escorts paid the waiter then nodded her off, Wesley reached for a mug and lifted it up “For new friendships and may the gods grant you luck in the tournament, Jarl Valdemar” he said smiling


The royal castle on Alexandria’s hilltop cast a great shadow over half of Lexindon on an ordinary morning,
and the king, Alexander III, was going through a contract proposing a deal between the Bank of Lexindon
and the Trader’s Guild. Of course, he was skimming through the contract carelessly as his advisors looked
them through hastily. The contract’s contents didn’t particularly interest him; he simply waited for his
council to tell him it was favorable and, of course, the profit he would make.

Just as the Merchant’s Guild representatives eagerly watched the king finish inscribing his name upon the scroll, a royal messenger burst through the throne room gates, anxious to speak to his majesty the king.

“What it is?” The king said in a dismissive tone.
“Your majesty, it’s a letter from-”
“What, the Farmer’s Association of Western Lexindon? I don’t want anything to do with them.”
"No, sir, it’s from Queen Valentina Arloven, first of her name, the Buccaneer Queen, and ruler of-"
The king interrupted the messenger, “Oh! The leader of, uh, The Northern Alliance- Show me!”
“Your majesty, shouldn’t we finish with this document?” One of the Guild representatives asked.
"Not right now, salesmen - This is more important."
The Merchant’s Guild representatives cast dirty looks at the messenger, but stayed silent - this was typical behavior for the king.

The letter read:

To the honorable Alexander III, King of Alexandria, Emperor of Lexindon,

We have heeded your interest in joining the Northern Alliance and are willing to meet in our capitol, Smertangelsk in two weeks time. Bring your finest champions and your revered imperial personage as we plan to get to know each other through a friendly trial of arms. After the tournament we will discuss diplomatic agreements. We value your cooperation and expect a productive and long lasting alliance. May Svetlitsa watch over you on your travels.


Queen Valentina Arloven, first of her name, the Buccaneer Queen, and ruler of South Western Nordrenya.

After reading the letter, the king exclaimed, “Oh! A tournament! How exciting! Gather the royal tournament team!”
“Your majesty,” His lead adviser, Sir Acure began, "with all-"
Alexander interrupted, “We leave for Roklavia in twelve days. I expect each member of the team to be at their best and fully ready to fight and win this tournament.”

“Your majesty, we can’t-”

“We must also bring gifts. Acure, have the cooks prepare our Lexindon’s finest meals in time for the for our departure. Have one hundred baskets of golden apples ready. And we should offer them some armor - We will have our most skilled smiths forge some fine armor suits and weapons. We’ll have the royal tournament team offer the swords; we’ll pass it off as some kind of gesture of honor.”

“You do understand, your majesty, we don’t-”

“I’ll be counting the days until we leave for Smertangelsk; our tournament team will be-”

“Oh, in Chrimatax’s name,” Acure said with exasperation, "Your majesty, we don’t have a tournament team!"
The king looked confused for a moment, but then quickly regained composure. “We- Well.”
“You’ll gather one right now then, won’t you, Acure? Get the most elite, well-trained members of the Royal Guard. And maybe that man who slayed the Emerald Dragon - the people love him, right? It’ll look good.”
“Of course, sir, I’ll get right on that.” Acure quickly started giving out orders, like the king asked.

“Yes, may Chrimatax bring good fortune to your tournament team,” A Merchant’s Guild member said, “Now could we please get your confirmation on this arrangement between us and the bank?” He continued, a bit of hope remaining in his voice.
“Not right now. I have better matters to attend to.” The king said, leaving the throne room.

And so, in twelve days, after hours of intensive training, speech rehearsals, and meal preparations, Lexindon officials as well as the tournament team made their departure. The royal fleet was composed of five ships - One for the officials and royal family, the largest one, one for the kitchen staff, one for the tournament team, and finally two ships for the royal guards. After a day of travel, the king watched the mid-day sun glint off the golden roofs of Smertangelsk just as they became visible on the horizon.



The Keelish passed without paying attention to what anyone was saying, the inn was full of talk, shouting, pushing, and drinking. They approached the counter to speak to the innkeep to get rooms, but to their dissapointment everything was already taken. The conversation was short, calm, and polite, with the Keelish lead, it seems, bowing to the inkeep when approached and when they were to leave, which the man evidently found odd.

They did at least get a few more inn names and locations to watch out for from the inkeep, and then they gently shoved their way back out through the crowd, apologising with ‘‘Excuse me.’’ and ‘‘Pardon.’’ as they did, and disappeared in to the streets as quickly as they appeared.


After sending a member of the guard to get the rest of the company a round, Valdemar nodded to Bogdán to follow him. They were introduced to king Wesley’s closest, and walked over to a table close to the counter, and ordered a fine round of roklavian beer. Wesley’s toast was met with appreciative counter toasts. As the jugs began to “dry”, the subject was driven towards differences and similarities between their homes. Valdemar was very intrigued by what Erik was describing to be some sort of horn, which was clearly giving enormous pride. “I’m surprised you can’t hear it in Maruba!” he said, leaning back in his chair, “nothing within a hundred miles can miss its sound!” Valdemar had answered that he was thinking of implementing one of these for his own, atop the castle Fehérvár. “Where does a noble man such as yourself reside, my good Wesley?” he adressed the king.