Knights of Anathaeum Well, Hello Boys...

Threads open to all members of the Knights of Anathaeum group
Farren had turned to giggle alongside Aarno at a joke they had shared, but when she turned to answer him with another quip—she was distracted. Her grey eyes catching on the bright glare of sunlight that backlit the hair he tossed about his crown like a halo. A few white strands draped fetchingly across his dark forehead and a distinct pang echoed softly in Farren's chest.

But she was saved from her suddenly dry mouth by the appearance of one of the many event helpers. In a flash her hands cradled a small missive with curling script.

Syr Theros, it read.

"Huh." Farren wondered aloud. "I don't exactly remember signing up for this?"

Aarno's curses had her leaning against his side to peer at what his note said— only to snort a moment later and match his strained smile with a gleeful grin of her own at his torment. "My, my. And you say fate is for fools."

Farren bounced forward and twirled in a small pirouette to face Aarno, idly enjoying the feeling of her skirts billowing around her and the music of bells as she walked backwards. "But you know? Something tells me I won't mind participating so much." She wiggled her eyebrows at her friend, altering their new path towards the new event area. Her eyes peeled for her dark and mysterious partner of Dusk, her smile ready and bright from the festival's infectious joy.

Aarno Bebin Theros
 
"Name's Gunner! Looks like we're paired up for this one. Don't worry, I won't drop you-- I've got a great grip!"

There was a coldness to her stare as they traveled over the overly friendly participant, and straight past him to look at Saskia at her left side. The dawnling was quite, for her scowl spoke more than words ever could, and was too ticked off to enjoy the satisfaction of making another person nervous with just a stare alone.

The golden haired dusker took in a breath and steeled herself, turning to meet Monroe's gaze. "Right, I know I said that I was going to put my name in but... It would have been too difficult to create obstacles and have fun being carried in the event. I put your name in the mix because you could look like you need some muscular arms around you." Saskia gave her a pointed look, a brave endeavor but one that paid off.

Monroe took the slip of parchment with the participants name, snatching it from Syr Kerraelas' fingers and scrunched it into her own fist. She didn't look at it, not really caring to learn it. She may have been the mastermind behind such an event, but the true curse was giving Saskia autonomy with planning. Monroe was happy just sitting on the judge's panel, but to be part of the event and trust some gaudy, muscled men to carry her? Well... there certainly would have been worse options out there.

"If you drop me, don't bother showing your face round these parts again." She all but grumbled to the unlucky pretty boy that was paired with her.

Gunner Valenntyne
 
Ophelia had mad it her mission to attend the Himbo even so graciously planned out by Petra and other organizers she was yet to meet. It had been a good few weeks since Ophelia had seen new handsome faces aside from those who rised in the monestary with her. She had been hauled up in a pile of scrolls in the library for almost a month now researching specific herbs. Fortunately Kallias had let her know because he to would be competing, beautiful idiot he was. Hopefully he would introduce her to some of his fellow himbos as they so put it.

But today...oh on this lovely, sunny, sweaty day she felt no better then a male in a less respectable establishiment. Gobbeling up the beautiful views before her.

Trusty wine in hand she say back and admired the competitions and competitors in all their sweaty glory.
 
Skuld drew close enough that even she could see the event while keeping Friga atop her shoulders. The partial gambeson she wore easing the bite of her daughter's bony little behind as the girl pulled on the kerchief around her head.

"Momma! They're gonna carry people next!" As if her mother had missed the announcement prior to her excited words. "Oh? That'll be fun to see."

The excitement and hubbub around them pushing them both closer to the stage as people began to adjust themselves to watch the sight better. Putting them well within the view of the little man that had been running about handing out slips of paper as he cast an eye their way.

The sharp grab about her neck distracted her from the dwarfs approach as Friga tried to keep from falling backwards.

"Ah, miss! We actually need another volunteer if'n you don't mind? Little'un can sit with the judges while you're busy." There was a strangled objection to the request with her daughters hand choking her while trying to keep upright. And the man took the sound as agreement rather than objection as she was pulled from her spot in the crowd.

Friga, with less grace than a drunken cat, was plopped on the judges stage with a stern look to mind her manners.

"But I wanna be carried!" Narrowed eyes settled on the girl as Skuld was prompted to hurry. "O'er my dead body will I let anyone as cloud-brained as these fellows carry my daughter. Off with you now."

A quick ruffle of hair followed after a point to the judges above found Skuld plodding along to find the one that she'd be dropped by.
 
Kallias had been late, as in two events late. Jumping straight out of bed and getting dressed in a scramble he half jogged over to the festivities in-between pulling on his boots, curly brown locks in complete disarray. He had spent the previous night playing cards and talking about topics, with some of the other squires he bunked with - unfortunately the festivities had continued well into the early hours of the morning.

Only three or four months in the Knights of Anathaum and he was already having the time of his life - yes that was not the reason he had joined but it was most certainly a happy coincidence.
He was not to sure on what to expect until everything began, the young man had simply scanned over the flyer and after hearing that a few lovely dames were to be expected, Kallias was all in so he made his way over to the judges table, he needed some way to schmooze them over to make up his already lost points.

Making sure he was in there eye-line, Kallias found himself a nice bucket of water and a half dim light bulb turned on in his pretty head. Poured it over his head in a manner he had definitely practiced before the squires white tunic now see through and sticking firmly against his chiseled torso and strong chest, he placed the bucket down and slowly tuned to the judges panel.

"Good morning darlings," He smiled charmingly, dimples on full display.
"Miss Petra as beautiful as well ways," with a wink he turned to her companions, flexing his muscles slightly.
His eyes strolled over to the brunette women close by, "Hello, I believe ive seen you around the monestary, I'm Kallias." Now dripping wet he offered her his hand, smile still bright and eyes light with interest.

Petra Darthinian Skuld Zajac
 
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Bebin made open his piece of parchment. His eyes scrawled across the lettering. Sloppy. By his estimate. But legible enough.

A bit of luck then. That he would be paired with one so easy to carry.

His hands folded the parchment, quick and sharp. Handed it to some squire he was on their way somewhere.

The youth blinked. Stared at the piec of paper, and made a sound of confusion. A drawn out. Uuuuuuummmm.

Bebin parted ways, and wove through the crowd like a snake through grass. Until he found his pairing.

"Lothilindor," his voice broke through the din. Low and sure. "While I am surprised you would volunteer yourself to such a position, I cannot say that I am displeased by this turn of fate," he smiled, a wicked thing. "Well, my princess," he played to the part, and bent low to her, with an offer of his broad hand. "Shall we?"

Farren Lóthlindor
 
A grumble came from Hector's throat upon hearing Syr Faramund's report. "Gee," he said, flat as stagnant water. "Thanks," how utterly unhelpful, thought the young knight.

He huffed, and shook off the thought. It was, after all, for a good cause. No matter the task, he would see it through.

How and when Hector had found the Captain of Dusk was a mystery unto its own.

Through the shouts and cheers of the crowd, and the pounding of his own heart, he couldn't quite put together the steps he had taken. Only, that he was now before the most mysterious, Captain Selene, Lady of Dusk. Author of An Emergent History of Curses and Their Bearers! Protege to the former Captain of Dusk, Silvan Hawthorne.

He snapped a salute. Upturned fist pound against his chest as his heels clicked to together, and the flaps of his makeshift kilt smacked against his legs.

"Captain!" he called out. Blinked. "Princess," he shook his head. "Ma'am... Miss- uh.. Syr!" he straightened up once more, nod. "At your leisure- I'll uh," he eased up. Looked her in the eye. Blushed. "Carry you, I guess," he smiled, sheepish, and scratched the tip of his nose. "There a way you... would like to be carried?"

Selene
 
It's for a good cause! So what if they're all laughing at you? Ain't it nice to see folk happy and smiling for a change? Well, ain't it?

Shaking his head, a wry smile on his face, Faramund let the slip fall from his hands to be trodden underfoot. Yeah, okay, maybe it was nice to see people laughing and smiling, but that didn't change the fact he had been partnered with Syr Aarno, now, did it?

'Curse my bastard luck!' The dawnling grimaced, flapping his fingers equably in recognition of his princess's gesture.

I s'pose, from the back, he at least looks like one. Longish hair, a passably plump arse. Just a shame about the jawline. Well, guess there's nothing for it! Shambling on over to Aarno, his expression severe, Faramund met the man's gaze, and nearly burst out laughing.

'Not how I saw the day's events unravelling,' he confessed, scratching his beard sheepishly, his composure fraying at the seams. 'But if things do eventually go tits up, at least you'll be able to carry me!' He smiled, his shoulders racked by silent bouts of laughter. 'Are ready? If I'm not mistaken, I think the show's about to start.'

Aarno
 
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“ Some fate. “ He snickered, folding away the slip and pocketing it.

“ Not mind participating so much? “ His brows arched, exaggerated disbelief upon him as she begun leading them off again. “ Is there anything you actually do mind? Even being injured in battle seemed to faze you very little. “ He remarked, just in time to catch the sight of Syr Theros meandering in from the scattering of people to fetch his princess for the next event.

Deeply amused by the exchanged posturing and decorum that ensued in quick succession, Aarno distanced a step, look falling upon Faramund in turn. The man had finally decided to come over, after what he assumed had to be much deliberation and some cursing. And a lovely little wave.

“ Sure, I’ll carry you. But let us hope it need not come to that. “ He tossed his head pridefully, untying the length of red leather he’d kept wound about his wrist.

“ Yes, almost. Let me just tie up my hair. I’m a damn princess, after all. “ He continued in a filthy wink, fingers busy as they laced his hair into a sloppy braid. In the midst of it, he snook a self-assured smirk at both Syrs Lóthlindor and Theros.

“ No pressure, but — Game on. “

Faramund Farren Lóthlindor Bebin Theros
 
Farren laughed through her blush at Bebin and placed her own hand demurely into his, a mock curtsy following. "Well Syr Theros, I can't say there are many broad shoulders I'd prefer to be thrown over."

She raised from her curtsy, a competitive fire giving a sharp edge to her smile as she overheard Aarno and Syr Faramund.

"Let's show these two how the Dusk do business, shall we?"

Bebin Theros Aarno Faramund Aarno
 
"Alright! Have we found our pairs? Yes? Perfect!" Saskia's soft, melodic voice carried over the crowds, a large grin adorning her face.

"This next round is a fun one! It is a simple course, except for the challenges I will throw your way. You will find attendants showing you the course, directing you on where to go. Your passenger can only leave your arms and touch the ground once, any more after that..." Syr Kerraelas smiled sweetly, as if that would be answer enough. "Let us move towards the starting line! Well the bell tolls, then you may pick up your passenger!"
With a grin, Saskia held her hand out to the young girl, Friga, inviting her to come watch the run with her. The first section of the course was to start at one end of the training grounds, and finishing up at the Knoll. There were plenty of attendants and volunteers lining up the way, keeping an eye out for those that would deviate from the marked path.
By the time the Shadow Knight and the young knightling made it to the starting line, standing on a platform of shadow so that they could be seen by all the handsome participants. A blush took to her cheeks seeing Torche's fashionable choice, and how well her wore it! "Here, Friga. Take good care of this bell, and ring it when I tell you to." Here's hoping she did not see the bare arse on display!
"Ready?" Saskia galnced at them all, grin lighting up her face. "Set!" Now, the anticipation as she waited with baited breath, before finally, "Go!" And nudged the young Friga to toll the bell as mightily as she could! "Pick up your partners and go, go, go!"



Do not forget to roll for this round!
(I will 'be nice' to you if I don't see you rolling in the discord dice channel!!! )
Every now and then, I will post as Saskia and giving people obstacles to interact with. Any clarifications are to be made to me :)


Will you ally yourself with other himbos, or is it time to sabotage some competitors?
hehehehe
 
"FINALLY!"
Arbok had at last completed the days tasks. As the last hay bail was stored in the stables she finally had a chance to see the games.
Floors had been washed, windows too and the horses brushed and fed and the stables mucked.
Turning on her heels she waved the delivery cart off and locked up before doning her sun hat and hurrying off to the games.
While unable to compete due to other duties Arbok had always enjoyed games. Forgoing a change from her work clothes ( dungarees, work boots, straw hat ) Arbok hurried to take a place among the others. Her footfalls hammered through the hallways as she exerted herself.
By the time she arrived, her great body was heaving with the effort.
"Did I, miss, it?"

*A wild Arbok appeared!*
 
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Kallias

Skuld watched a man up-end a bucket of water over himself, seeming late to the entire event as amusement fled her features. Fairly certain that this was to be the one the dwarf mentioned as she eyed the slick hand he offered.

"Aye, you likely have. Skuld. And if you wouldn't mind... " Taking the offered hand, only to wipe the water off on her gambeson. "Do try to warn me before you fall."

She didn't mind getting dirty. Didn't even mind taking a spill every now and again. Was a reminder that life sometimes threw things your way that sent you to your knees. What she did mind however, was possibly cracking her head or being squashed. A measuring look over him as she let the frown form at the corner of her mouth.

"Plenty tall enough, but, we'll see how well you carry yourself." The shake of her head the final sign of her measure before she prepared herself mentally and raised an arm to be carried, turning sidelong to him. "Mind your hands."