[D4, LA, EVENT] The Joust II: The Helm Show

[Constance of Brittany]

Taking the favor offered by his sister, he nods to the servant. He had not discussed the tournament with any but her, so he would simply have to clarify later. Family was everything to him and he had given her his word.

The scarf is put on with some doing in his armor, and he bows his head to his sister giving her a charming smile that seems to say I can't turn it off.

The servant bows and scampers off. The Duchess sits down imperiously. Ranulf fumes.

The world turns.

[Robert Whitehands]

She blinks at him, looking for all the world as if such an action shocks and perhaps appalls her! Then she bursts into laughter, the bell-like sound ringing for but a moment.

"Of course I am, Father. Our Cousin Simon, of course, he is a handsome young man and powerful in his own right. And Geoffrey, there, a grandson of the Plantagenet himself! Both seemed wise choices.

I'm pleased you've come although, I must say, I almost expected you to be down among the young Errants, vying for glory and reliving your younger days everyone talks about."

The elder Beaumont nods in understanding. "Sensible enough choices. Simon should be kept close. The other..." He grumbles lightly. "Perhaps too bright of an eye, easy to turn unpredictable if... certain feelings exist. Best be watchful of that, and especially ensure no virtue is ever in question, hm?" The slightly raised eyebrow is one Margaret knows well, suggesting I don't want to have to sort out complications.

After a pause he moves on. "It's a fine time to let younger bucks shine," he says with a bit of bluster. "I'll knock a few heads in the melee, make sure no one's getting too prideful, but I have plenty of affairs more pressing than breaking lances." Whitehands doesn't seem entirely pleased with what he's saying, but there are various reasons that could be true.

[Geoffrey of Tournemine]

Simon donned the flower as appropriate, following the example of Geoffrey, seeing as he had done it before. He does move to ask him about it but at the intervention of the servant, he bides his tongue.

Leaning over. "I'd wear the Lady Margaret's favor but for my promise to participate in the name of my sister Constance of Brittany. But yes, you should absolutely wear her token. I, will need to offer my apologies that I cannot and hope she is not too offended."

He wondered if his grandfather had ladies offering tokens unexpectedly at such events. Probably.

[Simon IV de Montfort]

Leaning over. "I'd wear the Lady Margaret's favor but for my promise to participate in the name of my sister Constance of Brittany. But yes, you should absolutely wear her token. I, will need to offer my apologies that I cannot and hope she is not too offended."

"A fine oath - I am unsure of the ethics of these things," he said as he adjusted the token, "But that oath sounds reason enough. I am unsure if it was wise to accept it in the first place, because outright rejection..."

[Geoffrey of Tournemine]

"I did not necessarily suspect my sister would expect me to not carry the favor of others," he replied, with a smile. "So, turning it away did not seem the wisest of the two choices in the moment."

[Margaret de Beaumont]

Whitehands doesn't seem entirely pleased with what he's saying, but there are various reasons that could be true.

"Quite so, Father. Have you decided what we are to offer Richard for the Northumbrian territories? My husband would certainly like to control more land near his precious Scots land, though I find this whole isle dreadful boring and grey. But I do like what we receive from it, well enough. Perhaps more land would be a benefit to the family. With sister and brother busy, it could even, perhaps, pass to myself, when the time is right. Certainly for while you are on Crusade."

Seeing the affair with the flower, she fumes, looking down the aisle, trying to see who did this to her and if she can repay them in kind.

[Giles de Braose]

Riding for Hertford is William de Braose, Lord of Bramber. Sallow-cheeked and tall, his murderous reputation leads people to give him a wide berth. Unlike Ranulf, however, he shows no one any hostility. Simply waiting, like a spider in its web, for something to happen.

Giles stood unobtrusively out of the way in the stands watching his father take the field. This was not his forte, but he would not be so rude a child as to ignore his family's efforts on this grand stage.

[Robert Whitehands]

"Quite so, Father. Have you decided what we are to offer Richard for the Northumbrian territories? My husband would certainly like to control more land near his precious Scots land, though I find this whole isle dreadful boring and grey. But I do like what we receive from it, well enough. Perhaps more land would be a benefit to the family. With sister and brother busy, it could even, perhaps, pass to myself, when the time is right. Certainly for while you are on Crusade."

Seeing the affair with the flower, she fumes, looking down the aisle, trying to see who did this to her and if she can repay them in kind.

Whitehands notices Margaret's fuming and is quick to guess at the cause, but he makes no comment.

"I plan to hear from some of our friends to ensure we make a prudent decision. The Warennes, for example. You could join us later this evening for that conversation, if you wish." The elder Beaumont doesn't smile as he offers, but his daughter already knows how likely he is to feel these meetings are just a necessary evil.

[Miriam Yarchi]

.

.

And a maiden, abandoning her post now walks over to them, offering a courtesy as they approach "My lord Whitehand, Lady Margaret."

[Waleran de Beaumont]

That's when this happens:

A man of middling height, with a light frame and fair arms and armor, rides up to the helm show on a powerful horse. A hush settles over the crowd, for this helmeted knight is also clad in the livery of the Earl of Warwick.

[Waleran de Beaumont]

Perhaps no one is more surprised than the man already in the Helm Show, for his eyebrows have risen up to meet his hairline, and his cheeks have gotten splotchy purple.

What in the lake of infernal fire is THIS!?

[Waleran de Beaumont]

The new man turns his horse and levels a challenge.

"Sirs, this man before us is an imposter!" he calls out from beneath his helmet. "For he claims and has claimed my identity from the time I had taken the cross, deceiving my relations and spending my wealth on charity to ease the guilt in his soul. I say now that he may wear a sword and my name, but he is no Waleran de Beaumont, and no true knight to ride in any joust!"

[Waleran de Beaumont]

Waleran--or the man you thought was Waleran's jaw drops in shock and confusion. Indeed there is much confusion around the place, with men rising and shouting their amazement and dismay across the stands.

[Simon IV de Montfort]

A thought occurred - who was actually the real one? He prayed that God would see the true Waleran come to light, but in case the Devil won, perhaps he should find the imposter.

(Can I try and roll recognize here?)

[Robert Whitehands]

Whitehands, seething with rage and on his feet in an instant, is immediately striding toward the "pair" of Walerans. His thoughts are a bubbling pot of curses unbecoming such a good Christian lord, but woe betide anyone short of the Lionheart himself trying to stand between Robert de Beaumont, his cousin, and some imposter.

---------
Roll to recognize when he's close and has the greatest opportunity to detect all imperfections and differences?

[Cearnach]

Recognize checks are a solid choice, here. Robert gets a +3 modifier for familiarity. These guys do look freakishly alike, though.

[Simon IV de Montfort]

Simon had his suspicions, but kept his word to himself - while related, he was technically outside the house Beaumont. It looked like his grandfather had a handle on the matter, but he would step in as required.

Recognize vs 10 - 7 - success!

[Robert Whitehands]

The thundering ball of energy that is Robert Whitehands rapidly approaches the two riders that claim to be Waleran de Beaumont, trailed somewhat belatedly by a pair of guards in Beaumont livery who know what's good for them. Whitehands, not a giant but an imposing man even if he didn't seem energized enough to vault one of the warhorses, grabs the reins from both mounted men and brings them both to face him.

"Hmm," Whitehands grumbles thoughtfully, making a great show of considering. The likeness is uncanny. But there've been too many visits, too many conversations, too many minutes and hours that the Earl has spent with his cousin to not find the little giveaways.

He carefully thinks about how to play this as the riders sweat and all assembled believe him studiously reviewing these similar men.

---------
Recognize w/+3 for familiarity: passed.

[Simon IV de Montfort]

"I do wonder - what drives a man to impersonate another? Does he truly think so little of his own name?"

Simon wondered more aloud than anything.

[Cearnach]

The gentlemen see that the second man is an imposter. An extremely good one, but an imposter no less.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," the False Waleran cries out, "I here and now lay down my accusation. Let it be answered, or let this man claiming to be me be driven out and slain for his impertinence!"

[Margaret de Beaumont]

Margaret thinks back to the story from the peasant. Yes, she had known someone was lying. Noticing where her father is glaring, she debates riling up the crowd against the false one.

———————-
Should I check something to see? And then what to rile them up?

[Simon IV de Montfort]

"Ladies and Gentlemen," the False Waleran cries out, "I here and now lay down my accusation. Let it be answered, or let this man claiming to be me be driven out and slain for his impertinence!"

"Interesting -", began Simon, a touch amused more than anything, "And suppose House Beaumont disagreed with your accusation, that they believed the man who you accuse is of the house. Would you not then need to stand against the house in it's entirety?"

He laced some steel into his voice, but kept his tone event.

[Cearnach]

———————-
Should I check something to see? And then what to rile them up?

pm sent.

[Cearnach]

"Ladies and Gentlemen," the False Waleran cries out, "I here and now lay down my accusation. Let it be answered, or let this man claiming to be me be driven out and slain for his impertinence!"

"Interesting -", began Simon, a touch amused more than anything, "And suppose House Beaumont disagreed with your accusation, that they believed the man who you accuse is of the house. Would you not then need to stand against the house in it's entirety?"

He laced some steel into his voice, but kept his tone event.

The man looks down at you. "Though it would pain me to shed my cousins' blood, and I would beg them not to put me to that test, I would do what was right, fighting them each, one by one, until God had proven the right."

[Robert Whitehands]

The gentlemen see that the second man is an imposter. An extremely good one, but an imposter no less.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," the False Waleran cries out, "I here and now lay down my accusation. Let it be answered, or let this man claiming to be me be driven out and slain for his impertinence!"

The elder Beaumont nearly rips the imposter from his saddle at this abuse of the helm show for what is clearly a knave's agenda.

"Blasphemy!" Robert roars in rage. "You have no right to challenge anyone here. You may fancy yourself quite the actor, but you're no more my cousin Waleran than the horse you're riding!" Whitehands, still livid, takes a step back so he's in front of the real Waleran's horse, holding the reins absent mindedly to avoid spooking the animal.

"You deserve a cell, charlatan, and a quick trip to the block, not a moment on any field of honor." Whitehands' voice is a bellow, easily carrying around the field, and it draws his guards closer, hands on swords.

[Cearnach]

"It pains me that you do not recognize me cousin, for though hard years have worn my features, I remember well our days together, and how many remarked we were as the Twins of old."

He frowns. "But I cannot allow this man to continue his masquerade. As God as my witness, I will fight you if I have to."

[William Marshal]

You can see William Marshal struggling to make his way through the crowd in your direction, but you have time enough to bring this to a crisis if you wish. He is a long way off.

[Simon IV de Montfort]

As God as my witness - as the masquerade spoke those words, a wave of righteous fury consumed the young Lord. A stake of fury rammed itself through the normally logical Simon's head, leaving behind only a man, dressed in black, who was the Echo of his Lord's will.

"Sir." He began, quietly, riding until he was face to face with the impostor.

"You will no longer lean so casually on the Lord's name."
He spoke with an authority well beyond his age, well beyond his station, but with the certainty and of the Lord. To deny his words was no longer to simply deny Simon de Montfort, but to deny the rising of the sun or the existence of the Church.

"Nor will you waste the Heavenly Father's time with this pantomime you wish to put on."
The anger abreast the Baron's face was as an angel - an unknowable, unfathomable, undeniable servant of God itself and yet, it appeared not white hot but a deep cold, as if face to face with some dark beast from the bottom of the Ocean.

"You have denied your own name. You have been denied the name you seek thrice - by me, by Sir Whitehands, and by the Lord himself. And you still demand the Lord see this settled matter settled again? Nay - the Lord has infinitely more pressing concerns. Jerusalem, the Holy city, for example. The faithful and the resolute dying of hunger across the world. I am but a worshipper of the Lord, but even I know we cannot demand The Holy Father's time for a flight of fancy."

Coldly, with a deep hatred in his eyes, he dismisses the pretender.

"Take your leave. Return to the hands of the Church and rethink your choices, or pledge yourself to the Crusade."

- - - -
Passion check - Piety vs TN13:13, Critical success!
Crit inspired Orate check vs TN 27 (turned to 20+7 modifier) - 18, crit success!

[Robert Whitehands]

"It pains me that you do not recognize me cousin, for though hard years have worn my features, I remember well our days together, and how many remarked we were as the Twins of old."

He frowns. "But I cannot allow this man to continue his masquerade. As God as my witness, I will fight you if I have to."

"If you were my cousin you would know that this display, disrupting a joust in honor of our great king, pains me far more," Whitehands replies, still fuming. "If you wished to make anything but trouble for the Beaumont family, you would have come to speak with me instead of making this spectacle. Another reason I know you are no Waleran de Beaumont!"

The raging earl clearly wants to drag the impertinent man from his horse, but he resists.

"I will stand for the Beaumonts to wipe away this blemish on my friend's coronation celebration," he says angrily. "At a time of good Lord Marshal's choosing, you'll recant this foolishness or be put to the sword."

[William Marshal]

The Marshal arrives, looking between the three of you with an expression of supreme annoyance. Perfectly good helmshow ruined.

"Alright, so, I've got claims and counter-claims of imposter-ing. Traditionally, the first claim would take precedence, however, as the second claim impeaches the credibility of the first claim, it is meet that it be resolved first. Therefore," he turns to the False Waleran. "You have been accused of representing falsely that you are the Earl of Warwick, and that you are base, and a liar. What say you to this?"