a friendly wager

[rowancrowned]

FORM: Sending crystal as well as notices in the Tavern + Great Hall.
SENDER: Thranduil
RECIPIENT: All the Inquisition!
WHAT: Thranduil issues a challenge.
WHEN: First of Bloomingtide, contest itself set on 8th Bloomingtide
WHERE: Skyhold.
NOTES: Possibly fixed contests, Thranduil trolling for allies. See notes!

[ thranduil sends his message later in the afternoon, his polite, deep voice precise and careful as he first greets, then settles down to the mear of the matter: ]

Good afternoon. I am Thranduil, a rifter, arrived last month. [ he pauses, to catch the attention of whomever might have their crystal nearby. ] I seek to return the hospitality shown to my son and I. I propose an archery contest, open to all residents of Skyhold. For the winner, fifty crowns. The next-best, twenty, and the third- ten.

[ where did he get the money? who knows shh. ]

Those interested should come to treeline in the valley on the eighth of Bloomingtide at noon.

[ he stops, as if he might be finished, but then: ]

And further, if anyone finds themselves able to beat my son, Legolas, I will offer them their choice of ring from my fingers. [ he sounds, already, terribly amused. ]



((ooc: SO this is mostly for thranduil and legolas to court allies. people are free to challenge him in an attempt to win a ring! but it is legolas shooting so. the money prizes will be rng'd.))

Comments

[rowancrowned]

[ unnecessarily massive. it would be terribly difficult to pull off the trains and robes he does without that height. he needs it. ]

Not too harshly, I hope. I have yet to fully capture the Theodsian social graces, and I would loathe to offend you.

[trouvaille]

I am quickly learning there is a certain amount of flexibility at play, in Skyhold, I daresay I can't be so delicate.

( somewhere sabine is incredulous and doesn't even know why.

wait, it's because gwen is the worst, mystery solved. )

[rowancrowned]

Yet you show no discomfort whist you... flex. Your sensibilities are not riled, to betray the manners I am sure were pressed into you during your childhood?

[trouvaille]

( a brief laugh; )

My childhood was a source of great despair to my parents, ( very lightly. ) Opinions are mixed as to their success.

[rowancrowned]

Did you dirty your skirts in the mud, my lady? Or was it more than you vexed your tutors with questions they did not know the answer to?

[trouvaille]

I vexed them with my answers.