The thunder of horses made the ground rumble under their feet, following by the snapping of wood, screaming of metal and yells of pain. On top of all that, even the roar of the humans pressed in to watch the spectacles of the tournament was overwhelming. The noise and thrum the crowd had almost been too much for Verana and she could see the strain on Sencha and Shaktay as well. 

Archery had been easier to watch with the quiet thrum of strings and the thud of arrows. The quiet concentration of the snipers as they aimed at the small centres of their targets. But then the heavy sport of jousting had taken over, up on a flat plain closer to Keepsal itself. Even standing near the outskirts of the crowd, Verana knew that she would not be going into those grounds to watch that sport.

Shaktay and Sencha had wandered this far with her as well, knowing they needed to practice tolerance to the sounds of the crowds if they were going to be able to function while fighting. But it was as far as they would go, already wincing at the sound of screams, the snapping  wood and screeching metal.

"It's time, Verana." Sencha said softly beside her, pulling her attention back to where they needed to go. He did not say anything more,  merely falling in on one side of her as Shaktay walked on the other, making their way towards the fighting arena. It was really just a large field that had a roughly made shoulder high fence around it, surrounded by various platforms and benches for sitting and standing crowds. At one end, there was a large platform and chairs where the King and some of his closer honoured guests would sit to watch what matches they wished, according to what Shelby had told her earlier.

There was a sequestered area on the side closest to her, leading to neat rows of tents for the fighters to store... whatever they were supposed to store. Though seeing the people running around, fetching trays of food, water, weapons and various other things, Verana realized that most fighters must do more than change into their armour in the cloth structures. In the arena, a fight was just starting, between Lord Kavenay and another fighter.

All three of them paused and watched the sword fight, watching his movements, picking him to be the superior fighter of the two, fast despite the armour and large swords. The fight was over in about five minutes and all three of them noticed the vicious punch to the downed combatant, after Kavenay had disarmed him and the horn rang the end of the match. Warning's were yelled from the officials that announced the fights and Kavenay appeared to feign innocence, grinning wickedly as he sheathed his blades, made a bow to the empty stage before he stalked off the field.

He paused for a moment, seeing the three of them, giving them a cocky grin as he wiped the blood from his metal glove onto the wooden fence before turning and walking into the cluster of tents. The other fighter stood unsteadily of his own accord, shaking his head at the offer of help from a couple of men wearing his colours, spitting out the blood that filled his mouth. 

Verana frowned softly, feeling a well of pity for the man as she recognized his young age, still a fledgling who should be training, not fighting against fully blooded warriors. The boy reached the fence, looking to the three of them in surprise. He had eyes as blue as they did, his hair the red of a brilliant sunset and pale skin that was spotted from time in the sun, his cheeks still carrying the chubbiness of youth.

"I suppose I didn't even have a chance, did I?" He spoke, though suddenly appearing unsure why he was addressing the three dangerous looking fighters so informally. There was shame there, seeming as if his heart was weighed down painfully by disappointment and defeat, that pale skin flushing with more than the physical exertion of the fight.

Shaktay offered a shrug, glancing the way Kavenay went, then back to the boy. "You have some things you must clean up and more to learn... but you fought well. He will never improve beyond this day, you have a great deal further to go. You will surpass his best, before reaching yours."

The boy raised a brow at that, then smiled, his teeth stained with his blood, an angry bruise growing on his jaw. "Thanks. Look... I don't.. I mean, I know it means nothing coming from me, but good luck. I hope whichever one of you fights him leaves him wishing he had never entered the ring. I'll be cheering for you, as long as you aren't fighting Lord Shelby. I've cheered for Lord Shelby since before I could lift a sword."

Sencha laughed at that, inclining his head. "Thank you."

The boy grinned again, offering a stiff bow before he turned and walked away, leaving Verana to give Shaktay a look of surprise. "That was...nice of you."

Shaktay nodded to the arena, his expression unmoved. "I am a teacher now, Verana. It is my Path, that boy needed me to be that... his learning should not have been so cruel. It could break him. A helpful word might turn defeat into a lesson. It is time, Verana. Let the wind guide you." 

His words were wise, drawing her into contemplation for the last few moments she had before drawing her gaze towards the ring. She realized belatedly that she was the next person expected to fight. So soon. There was a soft glow of nerves in her chest then, realizing she was entering something she was unsure of, going towards an unknown and untested task.

"And the earth propel you." Sencha murmured, turning to watch her as she slipped through the fence and walked into the centre of the arena, to join a large man carrying a vicious looking axe and large shield. Her opponent was already too hot, she could smell him sweating, in his armour, grizzled and aged as he was, his dark grey eyes watching her curiously as she stopped before him.

"So they took pity on the fool of an old man, sending him a girl to fight?" he grumbled and turned to the stage, where King Cavin and Duke Oliver had escorted the two women to sit down. He lifted his shield and crossed his axe over top of it, bowing his head in respect to the stage, "You are fighting for the King today, girl. It is our way, if he graces us with his presence. He's young, but he's worthy of our respect."

Verana smiled at the man, sensing the gruff, aged teacher within him, even as her opponent. With a nod, she turned and crossed her swords in front of her, ringing them against one another three times in quick succession and raising her voice in a Feysha call of fighter's blessing .

Verana was grinning when she heard the sound of Sencha and Shaktay echoing the call back to her, drawing silence from the crowd. Their words buoyed her as she turned to look at the man, raising her blades in a crossed salute, tapping them together, lighter this time and offering him the words as well.

The man blinked at her before crossing his weapon over his shield, his grin thoughtful, "and you too, sprite."