(Journey of Phantasia) Morthin, the Immortal 2: Grail of the White Feather

Part 1 of 2

Days passed since Morthin and Ayan left the Forest of Stone to head out to more adventure. They slept in many taverns along the way, helped the townsfolk with chores, trained with fighting and hunted for game in the meantime. Ayan hadn't had this much fun doing the same things over and over in a long while.

He was just in the middle of beating some dents out of Morthin's iron breastplate when two men on horseback rode into the town. One of them carried something, draped in cloth. They got off their horses in the centre of town, where everyone could see them, and one of them began calling out;
"Hear ye, hear ye! Lord Halhir of Harout has announced a tournament! Any knight or warrior who deems himself worthy is welcome!" The two gathered quite a crowd, including Ayan. He stopped hammering the breastplate and listened with great interest. He couldn't see Morthin in the crowd. Where would he be? He'd like this news for sure!
"The prize for the winner of the tournament, is this..." And the second man took the cloth off, revealing a beautifully carved cup, it was tall, made of ivory and inlaid with many gems around the ridge.

"The White-Feather Grail!"

"Spread the word, spread the word!" Said the two men as the crowd began to disperse and discuss. Safe for one. Green-tinted and massive and proud. "Tell me, where's Harout located?"
"In the west," Said one of the men, holding the grail. "A stronghold near the border of Drakonia." - "And what about that little cup? Does it do anything, or is it just for show?" Morthin said, intrigued in simplicity.

"It's ancient." Said the man. "Traced back to the old kingdom of Jeronn with the White Arm. And it's been said that this cup cures all ailments." And an even bigger grin sprawled across Morthin's face.
"Deal!" He said, as he slapped the man on the arm. "I'll see you there, then-... Uhm... When is it?"
"In a week." Winced the man, feeling the pain on his arm. "I will... Add you to the list. Good-day, sir."

Morthin walked back as the men behind him covered up the cup and tried to pat down the painful spot on the man's arm. The White-Feather Grail was an ancient relic, and not meant to be used for a simple bruise as this. Morthin gleamed with excitement as he approached Ayan, who had stopped hammering the breastplate.
"Let me guess, we're going?" Ayan smiled.
Morthin crossed his arms, itching to leave. "Pack your bags, we are indeed!"

Harout was a small place, almost hidden within the forest on a rocky overcrop in the mountains. It teemed with wildlife and was bordered by a near-uncrossable desert on the other mountainside. The people looked fed, but it was clear their work was not easy. And it was also clear that Morthin and his squire Ayan weren't the only people joining the tournament.

Many knights and their vassals stood in and around the open grounds of the castle. Their armour shone so hard it pricked in their eyes. Most of them saw this as both a chance to win the relic, and a chance to show off their near-divine-looking flair.

Morthin and Ayan looked quite a lot different to them; Armour not shining but scratched and bruised, a haggard banner that was a little ripped at the seams and with the both of them a fiery glint in their eyes, whereas the other participants looked cold, stative and distant. They were given quite some stink-eye because of this, but they didn't bother. They'd been used to it. They came here to win, and to have a good time.

Morthin gave Ayan a pat on his shoulder as the boy had put the horses in the stables to rest. Now he needed to find food for them, he saw Bayo was getting hungry, and Flower, Morthin's new horse that they'd 'borrowed' from somewhere, looked like he was ready for a meal as well.
"I'll go get us registered for the event tomorrow. You should try and get some food for us, yeah?" Ayan nodded and Morthin walked off to let the contest-people know they were here, and Ayan gave Bayo and Flower a last pat on the neck before heading out to look for food.
He found a line, eventually, for the kitchens. It smelled delicious, and thus he joined quickly with two empty wooden plates. He'd find some hay and grass for the horses soon.
"Less and less beets lately..." He overheard from further up the line. "Soon we'll only be eating kale..."