[center][h2][color=3CB371]Soren Rathmore[/color][/h2][/center]

It had been a very long time since the last gathering of the major Houses. With the North still a ways from the Windkeep, the South wasted no time in flaunting their attendance among the city that spectated. The tournament was one of fun and jest, but also of great importance; glory was to be won, as many knights from the three regions, whether their fealty was sworn to a lord or a sword seeking vows to take, had come to demonstrate the greatness of their regions.

As the King of Estiala, [color=3CB371][b]Soren Rathmore[/b][/color] reminisced of his youth as a hand felt his clean-shaven chin. He had come to witness the great knights many times, and such a festival of prosperity was a ray of solace in the times of grief. The sixty-eight year old watched as the squires saw to fitting their knights with their attire, smiling as he turned to his wife.

[b]"Your Grace,"[/b] one of his attendants hovered along his side. [b]"Lord Lear has arrived."[/b]

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[center][h2][color=DAA520]Rufus Santer[/color][/h2][/center]

[color=DAA520][b]Rufus Santer[/b][/color] had been up to no good. While his liege had obliged the young man that it was no issue to roam the city of the Windkeep as they awaited for the arrival of the Northerners, the squire found himself having [i]too[/i] much fun, as the Raleis frequently told him.

Cursing as he rushed to bring his clothing back to his rightful body, Rufus kept his eyes on his reflection, paying no heed to the other pair of eyes that fit the woman's devious smirk.

[b]"Where must you go?"[/b] she called out to him, her fingers twining along several locks of her dark hair. Rufus clicked his tongue a few times, continuing to clothe himself in a hurry as the naked woman watched him.

[color=DAA520][b]"To the tourney,"[/b][/color] Rufus replied as he slipped his pair of boots tight against his feet, making sure that he was as presentable as when House Ralei arrived. [color=DAA520][b]"It's almost time."[/b][/color]

The woman sighed apathetically, rolling to her back. [b]"So soon?"[/b]

As Rufus finished grooming himself, the male dug into his pocket and flicked a single silver towards the bed, grinning. [color=DAA520][b]"A squire mustn't be late to attend his knight."[/b][/color]