Brun: Word has reached you of a major tournament hosted by Baron Gehenmis of Callisto. Although the field will not be large, the prize is generous, and the lack of famed opponents stands you in good stead. The tournament will provide you with the opportunity to showcase your abilities and the gain the money to maintenance your armor which is, despite your considerable skills, in desperate need of retrofit.

---

Meara: Your Mother has thrust the mantle of your position on you more quickly than you would like, insisting that you attend and compete in a tournament on Callisto hosted by one of the Petty Titans, a Baron Gehenmis. She insists this is the perfect opportunity to showcase your abilities and secure allies both to your house and to the Realm's cause. To that end, she is sending you to Callisto along with a full retinue and great expectations.

---

Gwydion: "Gwydion, my boy, you're becoming an impressive knight," the King says, not without a hint of pride, as you climb out of the cockpit of your Armour after a particularly grueling training exercise. Once you're on the ground he tosses his arm around your shoulder as he would a close friend. There are some who say such a casual gesture is unkingly, but John Arthur has never relied on pomp and ceremony, rather his rule is based on understanding and equality, and those who follow him do so by choice alone. To most he is simply the King, but to you, he's also Uncle John, the closest thing to a father you've known since you were a small boy. "I'm proud of you my boy." He ruffles your hair like he used to do when you were little. A pair of female technicians giggle at the gesture. Arthur inclines his head at them as you two pass by, "Ladies."

Once the two of you have advanced down the corridor he continued, "As I said, you're becoming an impressive Knight, and Knights serve the Realm. I'm going to need you to do just that, Gwydion. Baron Gehenmis of Callisto, one of the major lords near Jupiter is hosting a tournament and has sent an invitation to Avaluna. As you know, securing the allegiances of Saturn and Jupiter are paramount to the security of the Realm.  Baron Gehenmis could prove to be a staunch ally if we could sway him to our cause. The tournament could prove the perfect opportunity to approach him. However...if I were to attend the tournament many of the other lords of Jupiter would see it as taking Baron Gehenmis's side in their petty squabbles. We would lose just as much support as we would stand to gain. Yet, if I don't attend Baron Gehenmis would see that as a slight, and we'd have lost a valuable ally. So it seems that I cannot do anything. Except to send you in my place. You will represent Avaluna, Gwydion. Baron Gehenmis will honored by the presence of Avaluna Court and the other petty lords can reason what they will about your presence instead of my own." The King shrugs, "Politics, what are you going to do?" He looks at his nephew, "I know you will make us all proud, nephew."

OOC: I'll leave you all the decide how you arrive at the Baron's Space station.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:59, Mon 10 July 2023.

Brun completed his latest disgnostic and listened quietly as the computer's voice triaged the latest list of maintenance issues, "Myoelectric Motivation Coil - Fifty percent efficiency and degrading...  Neocore pulse conduits - Thirty-five percent efficiency.  Reccomend replacement...  Replacement.... Replacement...  Rec...rec....rec..."

With a sigh, Brun leaned over to jostle the diagnostic console's wiring bundles till he found the loose connection.  "Ah, my lady...  I am ashamed.  I have brought no wealth to your estate.  In keeping me, your own coffers are drained.  I try to be careful with our finances, but I am a just a man.  As mother always said, I have no head for numbers and should marry rich..."

"Reccomend replacement."

Rolling his eyes, the poor knight muted the voice, "I fear if you could you would replace me, my love.  And you would be right to do so."  His eye strayed to the dataslate annoucing the tournament.  It was a risk, of course, to attempt it in less than perfect condition.  But that had never happened.  Like as not, it never would.  Needs must.  Needs always must.  "You win, my lady.  We will enter into this tournament and if we should win, the prize will allow us to, for a while, live the life we promised each other.  But..."  He placed his hands out carefully on the console and laid his head down gently, "Promise me you'll be careful.  I couldn't bear to lose you..."

---

Euryleia carried Brun and what few possessions he had across the vastness of space to Callisto.  Not the quickest way to travel.  Not the way a knight is meant to travel.  By fast squadron of ships; in elegance and glory.  But, Brun and Euryleia had grown used to travelling in this manner.  And quite used to ignoring any "looks" along the way.

Arriving at the field,  he was directed to his designated space amongst the other knights.  Even for a small tournament, the greater wealth of the others was evident with their portable garage structures and mobile domiciles.  Not to mention the crews of squires and workmen.

Once again, he and his lady would be left to take care of things themselves.  Though perhaps, if he was lucky, he could hire a few spare hands to assist....
This message was last edited by the player at 17:08, Thu 05 June 2014.

Gwydion's shuttle had arrived some time before Brun's, complete with the very same escort fighters that would have given the nearly-junked Armour the looks as though they'd seen someone just crawl out of the sewer. His mobile garage was modest, but had everything necessary for a traveling swordsman, including a crew of mechanics seeing to the machine's care and maintenance. One of Gwydion's crew informed him of an Edge Knight arriving, though didn't use such a kind term. It struck him as odd for a moment, before he rationalized to the crewmember that an open invitation would attract many looking for a way to prove themselves, or at least pay for a meant of survival.

Even so, the thought sat at the back of his mind until Brun and his Armour were given their designated place amidst the others. It took a few moments before recognition struck, and Gwydion began his way over with a wide smile.

"Brun! Welcome to Callisto, my friend!" He was likely the first to say so, and likely the last. The gesture was met with odd looks from those within earshot. The tournament itself hadn't even begun, and already Gwydion's attitudes were embarrassing Avaluna among the social elite.

[Perfectly willing to accept a compel related to my Transparent Principles aspect, if there's some way this can go horribly wrong.]

"How've you been? And your Armour, how is she?"

Brun stiffened a little at the call.  Too many pointless fights had started by another knight feigning friendliness....  But as he looked up from his workbench, he realized who it was.  The tension leaves quickly, feeling little to fear from /this/ knight.  "Gwydion, this is a happy meeting.  I have been...well.  And my lady..."  He casts an adoring look up to his ill-made, mismatched Armor, "Still as wondrous to me as the day her reaction generators first warmed up."  Looking back to Gwydion, "She should be quite the surprise to a few of the knights on this field.  And you?  Fairing well?  I am surprised the garrison of Avaluna could spare you for such a small event..."

"My Lady, you do not need to wear a filter mask.  The air is clean and of a proper mix."

"But it smells funny."

"A proper lady does not say 'it smells funny.'"

"But it doooooooooes."

Having docked, with the remaining retinue taking care of the Armour and equipment brought along to supply, maintain, and repair it, the young pilot and her much more proper, and perpetually exasperated, handmaiden were walking down the corridors to look at the Armours of the competition.  The handmaiden was doing an exceptionally good job of preventing further embarrassment for the household reputation by appearing noble, dutiful, and very, very restrained from making the facepalm she quite clearly wished to make whenever her young charge opened her mouth or did just about anything.

"Be that as it may, it is something you will need to get used to.  The air will not always smell like the flowers you so lovingly tend back home.  And on the ship.  And in the Armour.  Which your mother has requested time and time again that you stop doing."

Taking off her mouth and nose mask so she could make a proper pout, Meara spun around and puffed out her left cheek in mock anger to her caretaker and piloting instructor.  "It makes her prettier and I like lilacs!"  Before any further protest could be made, the young woman suddenly ran off excitedly as she saw someone she recognized as very high nobility talking to someone else, causing her to be instantly distracted.  While she was a very talented pilot and could make Brunhildr dance on a pin, she was not the most... focused of individuals.  One could quite easily describe her as childish, although the more polite term would be naive.  Being nobility, that was what she was consistently called, both behind her back and to her face.

"I never thought I would see someone like you here!" she said quite excitedly to Gwydion, acting as if they were both old friends and several years younger instead of a pair of very high class nobles with family reputations to uphold.  "Who's your-?" she immediately asked before either of them could reply, then was quickly distracted by the Armor clearly once based on a Venusian model.  Her face went from extremely happy to one of pity as she gazed upon it, feeling very, very sorry for the Armour.  Not that it was a Venusian frame being potentially piloted by a man - she'd never really cared about that sort of thing - but because it was clearly very battered, bruised, and maintained on a minimal budget, however lovingly it was maintained and kept operational.

Baron Gehenmis's household staff rush to great new arrivals on behalf of the Baron. They fawn over each guest, thanking them for attending, and complementing this or that. A man dressed in fine livery takes one look at Brun and Euryleia, scrunches his nose, and the Edge knight and his Armour are ignored entirely.

Gwydion's arrival causes quite the uproar. The party from Avaluna is surrounding by the Baron's retainers and hangerons led by his majordomo Derrol. He does his absolute best to ingratiate himself with Gwydion, “What a blessing that you should attend such a humble affair my Lord. The Baron will be so honored by your presence. Do you intend to enter the tournament my Lord? Surely, no one can hope to best the likes of you my Lord. Alas, the others shall be competing for the honor of second best.” It is quite a while before the Baron's greeting party departs, but there is no sign of the Baron himself.

”Lady Meara, how nice it--” The greeting party is just approaching the Duchess-to-be and her handmaiden when the young knight bolts off,  leaving her poor handmaiden to make apologies.

The majordomo watches the young heiress run off and suddenly becomes very interested in the Edge knight whom acts as though equal to the King's own nephew and the heiress to a major Venusian Duchy. He snaps his fingers twice and whispers something to an aid.