The Grand Tournament (Tyr)

[MKR]

December 13th
Area 4, Estate of Fourth Prince and Viceroy Guntram ne Britannia
12:14 PM

A simple picture, streaks of light falling through a window and passing onto a young man, seated calmly as a double bass rested against his leg. Both eyes closed as he felt the strings go against the bow. A tune well honed coming through, not one of the classics he would play for family and their friends at various galas to impress but instead what he liked, a more popular song to the masses one might say. Even if the rendition with this instrument was far from ordinary.

"Its a new frontier."

The man mused to himself as a knock interrupted his playing, the one interrupting not waiting until they were called in.
The fourth prince and viceroy of the area of the same number, Guntram ne Britannia watched his more aloof younger brother, the eleventh prince, sigh and put away the bow.
"You'll be late to your own event." Guntram noted.

"Brother please, we both are well aware this was your idea. It is mine only as a formality."
The two were similar in appearance, heralded by their black hair. Though the younger sibling saw it fit to decorate his hair with streaks of orange in between. Despite his protest he stood up however, bringing the instrument back to its rightful place.

There were twelve years between them, and though he was older than the crown prince Sigebert held no grand aspirations. He knew well enough that this entire event and his choice which was 'optional' afterwards were political plays by his brother after Lemuel hammered in their niece Louise as the viceroy of that terrorist colony.
Which meant, he was now one of the weakest heirs. Something brother couldn't tolerate.

"Just like someone may have listened to your Fire Bomber concert just now, that too may have been heard." Guntram responded, Sigebert rolling his eyes in return.
"Yes yes. I do hope you didn't just bring in stuffy old men however."
Changing subject the younger brother headed down the staircase, the grand windows stared out across the courtyard. Brother had an eye for military matters, only logical since he himself was a knightmare pilot of notable renown. A trump card he liked to play for matters of popularity. Oh did people love the usual show of their leader marching in and stomping the opposition.

Which meant that those knightmares spread out across their lawn in display belonged only to people that had caught his attention in one way or another, be it through the rumor mill or by witnessing them himself.
Now, what did he recognize... Two gloucesters with shoulders in colors unique to the individual, those brother certainly picked himself. what looked like a heavily customized civilian machine he recognized the silhouette from the television but could not recall its name for the life of him. Still those usually did not have a certainly custom sword attached, and then there was a Tactical Surface Fighter made evident by its size alone, one armed to the teeth with ranged weaponry.

And then there was the thing which caught his attention most, a machine he recognized by name because his brother would not shut up about it several months ago.
Lancelot.

There was something a week or two back it had contributed in wasn't there? Still, it was a veritable testbed and something which through osmosis from his brother's rare enthusiasm he knew Guntram liked. Was it just here so that the viceroy could be in its presence or was it a genuine competitor?

 

[Tyr]

Artur knew what he had done to be invited to this tournament. There were precious few things he had done to attract attention of this kind. It could only be the recent operation against BETA in Cascadia. He still didn't know what to think about that operation and F.L.E.I.J.A.

It likely didn't bode anything good though.

But all that didn't mean that it wasn't a shock of a lifetime to receive an invitation adorned by the royal seal. While it was only an opportunity, it was still the first significant step towards his goals he had the chance to take. He had always known he'd likely have to garner the attention of the royal family, to reach his goals. It had sounded so simple. Just another objective to meet.

But reality was quite different. As a commoner, growing up he had never expected to come anywhere close enough to the rulers of the empire. He'd been utterly unprepared for the innocent-looking invitation, the several hours of hyperventilation and over-excitement verging on panic attested to that.

Artur sighed, and steeled himself with both the soldier's training and the steely determination lest he became a nervous wreck. Turning his attention away from his thoughts, he regarded his competitors.

The Gloucesters likely weren't a threat. While their pilots surely would be skilled in their own ways, Artur had faith in his superiority in that regard. Even if they were equal to him in skill, Lancelot was a far stronger Knightmare than a Gloucester. It was hardier. Faster. Stronger.

Better. In everything.

He was distantly familiar with the pilot of the civilian Knightmare, from the TV. He had skill to be respected, all the more for participating in a Prytwen, even though it was a modified one.

But no, going into this, what would likely be the biggest obstacle was the TSF. A completely different design philosophy from the Knightmares, Artur wasn't certain how well Lancelot stacked up when compared to it. Perhaps he would find out.

Artur frowned, as a thought popped into his head. If Lancelot was the most advanced suit here, it'd only mean that he'd have to work that much harder. Winning only because of his machine was unacceptable.

He'd have to make sure that when he won, it was clear that it was not only because of Lancelot's performance. That it was equally, if not even more so because he was simply better.

 

[MKR]

The Viceroy entered the courtyard first, the royal guards at his disposal had been guarding the entryway to the mansion he called his home during this waiting period. The Fourth prince was a mountain of a man, a trait inherited from his father that much was clear as he loomed over the men besides him. Guntram ne Britannia also held a certain kind of respect from the men around him, one only earned through live combat as he, before his days as Viceroy, was a battalion commander during the Japanese invasion. The men serving him today having been selected from the squadrons that served him then.

His brother, Sigebert, while tall was still diminutive compared to the giant that had preceded him. Two men, dressed similarly to the Royal Guard of the Viceroy but with a less prestigious color, quickly fell in line behind the pair. Sigebert observed those in attendance. "Before the first round begins." His elder brother stated, "You aught to acquaint yourself with all those in attendance."

The 11th prince of Britannia rolled his eyes at the obvious advice, looking between the machines of those present. Some minor nobles he had interacted enough with, those would be left for last. Whoever got invited here with a TSF was interesting enough, but two 'celebrities' in their own rights would likely be most interesting to interact with and of those the Lancelot was the one he knew least about.

The entourage calmly moved up to the machine here boasting the greatest advantage over its peers. The one with the honor of bearing a knightly name, one of the few to do so without being held by one of the Round Table.
"It's a pleasure to meet you." The prince spoke to Arthur, admittedly not knowing his name but leaving enough time for the man to fill in the vacant part of the sentence where his name belonged. The Viceroy loomed nearby, his attention mostly on the Lancelot as they got close to it.

"I assume you've been told why it is you have been invited here, but beyond your martial prowess would you share of who you are besides that?" The prince-ling asked, frankly he was genuinely curious how someone ended up with a machine like that, in a position as such and wearing a gaudy mask to such an occasion, if anything the man before him had no worries about how he represented himself in his eyes.

 

[Tyr]

Artur turned towards the prince, incomprehension clear on his face. As Sigebert began to talk to him he blinked in open surprise, the shutter covering his artificial eye sliding to the side, revealing the red glow of the artificial eye below it. The artificial eye and its shudder joined in the subsequent confused blinks.

Still, despite being caught flat-footed at the royal approaching him, the many hours of drilling had done their job and Artur instinctively snapped into a crisp salute. The blinking put an end to with the salute, the shutter closed over the red glow again. "Artur Greenfield, at your service Your Highness." His body twitched for a moment, almost beginning to shift into a bow before it stabilized itself. He had no idea whether a salute or a bow or a kneel was the most appropriate in this instance, but he had committed to the salute - it was rather too late to change it.

"I have." He confirmed. "I am honored by your interest. Aside from my duties as a soldier, I currently serve as a tester of prototypes of technology and advancement not quite ready for mass-production yet." His eye went to the right, indicating towards the 'mask' covering half his face, and then towards where Lancelot was situated from where he was standing, the only way to indicate towards things while saluting.

"These duties take up most of my time, but when I have nothing to do, the duels that are televised are a decent way to pass my time. Other than that..." He trailed off, unsure whether to continue or not. But what the hell, the prince had asked. "I like to read the surviving writings of philosophers from before The Zentraedi War."