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Post by The Smith on Sept 8, 2013 11:23:52 GMT -5
Tynian smiled shyly at the rare praise. "B-but didn't that make you strong like you are now?" he asked apprehensively. He wasn't sure all the beatings would be worth it, even to end up as brave & strong as the Lord Commander clearly was to him. "If I was like you, he wouldn't hit me and he'd love me as much as he loves my brother" he said sadly. "Look here kid, that man. He is never going to love you. He is broke inside. When I was a little older then you, I went out and found a new father. That man saved my life." Ser Benfry replied. "That man will always be my father." |
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Post by Quenton Baratheon on Sept 8, 2013 11:27:42 GMT -5
Harold makes his way to the Tully side and shakes his head free of the ringing of being knocked off so early. He shrugged at the attempt and looked around watching the joust continue. Ser Ryger Tudbury, fresh from finishing respectably in the final four of the joust, stops as he wanders past Lord Harold. "You," he says in a low rumble, pointing, "Weak man. Ha ha ha! Fall from horse like baby from window! Ha ha!" Quite what he meant by this was unclear. |
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Post by Lord Harold Tully on Sept 8, 2013 11:29:29 GMT -5
Harold tilts his head.
"Having lost to someone who seems like he may win the Joust is nothing to be ashamed of Ser." He offers a smile. "It just means I have to train to be better."
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Post by Quenton Baratheon on Sept 8, 2013 11:33:52 GMT -5
Tudbury clearly attempts to understand Lord Tully's words, his expression a slow rockslide of failed comprehension.
"No," he says simply before walking away.
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Post by Lord Harold Tully on Sept 8, 2013 11:36:08 GMT -5
He chuckles to himself and stretches in his armor, calculating his mistakes in his head.
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Post by Ollie on Sept 8, 2013 11:36:49 GMT -5
Lord Bayard applauds thoroughly for his goodbrother. When his lord father had left to confront the night's watchman, Damian had remained with the rest of his family in their seats. Since Lord Bayard's return his son had been silent, watching each tilt with a furrowed brow, clapping only half-heartedly for each winner, no matter how spectacular the victory. After the final joust, Damian sat with his arms folded, awaiting a monent until Bayard was unoccupied. "Father," he spoke in a low voice, keeping the conversation between the two of them the best he could. "Why did you chastise Ser Benfry? He hadn't done anything wrong." |
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Post by Tynian Lannister on Sept 8, 2013 11:37:02 GMT -5
Tynian smiled shyly at the rare praise. "B-but didn't that make you strong like you are now?" he asked apprehensively. He wasn't sure all the beatings would be worth it, even to end up as brave & strong as the Lord Commander clearly was to him. "If I was like you, he wouldn't hit me and he'd love me as much as he loves my brother" he said sadly. "Look here kid, that man. He is never going to love you. He is broke inside. When I was a little older then you, I went out and found a new father. That man saved my life." Ser Benfry replied. "That man will always be my father." Tynian nodded uncertainly in agreement. He'd always imagined that one day his father would appreciate him and that he'd be a noble and gallant father, like in the stories he loved, but that seemed increasingly unlikely. He sat sadly in thought and imagined a better life for himself. |
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Post by Horas on Sept 8, 2013 13:50:37 GMT -5
Lord Bayard applauds thoroughly for his goodbrother. When his lord father had left to confront the night's watchman, Damian had remained with the rest of his family in their seats. Since Lord Bayard's return his son had been silent, watching each tilt with a furrowed brow, clapping only half-heartedly for each winner, no matter how spectacular the victory. After the final joust, Damian sat with his arms folded, awaiting a monent until Bayard was unoccupied. "Father," he spoke in a low voice, keeping the conversation between the two of them the best he could. "Why did you chastise Ser Benfry? He hadn't done anything wrong." "Ser Benfry is a bastard," Bayard says bluntly, though quietly, "And no matter how Lord Gerion chooses to disgrace his name, he is a high lord. It cost me nothing to intervene. Though perhaps I should not have; Lannister shows his weakness by tolerating such a slight." |
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Post by Lord Oswyn Baratheon on Sept 8, 2013 14:10:32 GMT -5
Ser Oswyn Baratheon sits in shock atop his horse as the crowd roars around him. In truth, the whole day felt a blur to him, beginning when he sat his horse for the first tilt and somehow ending with the heir to the Riverlands, two white knights, a royal, and a black brother on their backs with a green knight somehow the victor. He thought of the stories his father often told of past tourney victories when deep in his cups, describing every blow landed and the splinters of his lance for each bout, knowing he would struggle to recall such detail of this day.
Shaken from his stunned contemplation by the continued roar of the crowd, he hastily saluted the royal box, his father, and his fallen foe in turn with as much poise as he could muster in his current state. It all felt like some fantasy from his youth had been torn from his mind and made real.
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Post by The Smith on Sept 8, 2013 14:20:01 GMT -5
A steward of the keep walks up to Ser Oswyn as the crowd Cheers. On a pillow is a single golden crown with roses in rubys and stags in silver decorating it. The steward presents it to the victor.
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Post by Flex on Sept 8, 2013 14:24:22 GMT -5
Ser Domeric Thatcher studied the winning knight atop his horse for a long moment, finally nodding to himself.
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Post by Lord Oswyn Baratheon on Sept 8, 2013 14:34:20 GMT -5
Ser Oswyn removed his helm and took the crown with grateful thanks, before spurring his horse towards the Westerlands box, the orange silk favor he had been given earlier fluttering in the breeze.
He had spotted "Winnie" during the confrontation between the Nights Watch and Lord Lannister, naively assuming Gerion had granted the widow of one of his bannermen with a place of honor...out of character as the act of benevolence seemed coming from the man.
"I believe this is yours, my lady." he said with a broad smile, despite the lump in his throat as he felt the eyes of the crowd upon him. He lifted the ornate crown high and placed it gingerly upon her brow.
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Post by Tynian Lannister on Sept 8, 2013 14:52:43 GMT -5
Gerion's eyes narrowed and he seemed far from happy that his wife had been awarded this accolade from this impudent knight and scowled, watching proceedings without speaking
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Post by Lord Oswyn Baratheon on Sept 8, 2013 14:56:45 GMT -5
At the sight of the Lannister sigil, Oswyn's expression shifted from jovial, to bewildred, to crestfallen. Though he should have been furious at the deception, as she kissed him on the cheek for what he knew would be the final time, the knight felt only pity for the woman bound to a beast. It appeared that the stories of valiant knights were just that, stories. The brave hero did not slay the monster and ride into the sunset with the fair damsel. Instead, he was forced to ride away, resigned to leave her in its clutches.
He favored Lady "Winnie" with a sad smile, avoiding the gaze of her husband, before returning to the winner's circle.
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Post by Sam on Sept 8, 2013 20:29:09 GMT -5
In the final match Ser Oswyn Baratheon faces Ser Petyr Lannister a ranger of the Night's Watch. Petyr has won several tournies over the years, but every one is abuzz about the skill of the Baratheon Knight. The two salute, and horses charge. Ser Oswyn take his long, hard lance and rams it hard against the Lannister. Petyr topples from his horse. The black brother stands up laughing, and nods his head toward Ser Oswyn, "A good pass Ser. I will get you next time though." Lord Baratheon cheers loudly for his son, clapping him soundly on the back as he rushed out onto the lists after the final tilt. He still bore some bruises from his own defeat, but his heir winning a tournament so prominent as this one would bring much prestige and coin to the House, as well as being a great personal victory for Ser Oswyn himself. |
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Hope you all are well and happy.