Post by The Smith on Apr 24, 2008 13:05:27 GMT -5
Ser Mychel was bored in Duskendale. The King had come for the tourney with such a large entourage of guards and retainers that Ser Mychel found himself with more free-time than he had had in years. He had been training with the King at the crossbow butts a day prior, and had taken a few sample laps around the racetrack in anticipation of the horse-races. He approached the stables again, searching for his own horse inside the massive complex. He found the white destrider in a stall deep inside the stables, and when Ser Mychel arrived there, another man was standing nearby tending to a horse in a nearby stall.
Ser Mychel thought for a moment that it was one of his Sworn Brothers, but then noticed red mixed in with the white of his garb. The man turned at the sound of Ser Mychel approaching, and the white knight made out two griffins on the man’s tunic. The griffin-knight bowed his head when Mychel approached, before speaking. “Greetings, Ser. It is always an honor to meet one of the Kingsguard. I am Ser Grant Connington.”
Ser Mychel took his hand, and shook it. “Ser Mychel Lannister, and I must say that your reputation precedes you, Ser Grant. I heard about your victories in northern Dorne, while I was fighting in the south.” Ser Mychel remembered something else about the griffin knight. “You have my condolences, as well, though. Your brother’s skill with the blade was widely known, and his loss is surely one that the realm will miss.”
A sour look crossed Ser Grant’s face, at the mention of his brother’s death, but it passed quickly. “And you have mine, Ser. You lost a brother just as I did from that… incident. Ser Tytos Blackwood was a great man, and his life was cut short needlessly.” The two men stood in awkward silence for a few moments before Ser Grant spoke again. “So, Ser, will you be participating in the tourney?”
“Aye, I will, in all of the events, except for the sailing-race. I’m not bad on the deck of a ship, but I am sure the Ironborn will dominate that competition. Will you?” Ser Mychel responded. Ser Grant nodded, and fed his horse an apple.
“I am not a fan of ranged fighting, so I will only be jousting and at the melee. Would you like to get in a few practice runs before the tourney begins?” The white knight grinned in response to Grant’s inquiry and began to saddle his horse. The two men led their hoses out of the stables and over towards the lists that were currently empty. They rode to opposite ends, and then turned and spurred their horses. The two destriders thundered down the lists, as the men sitting in their saddles both couched their lances.
The two crashed together, both lances striking squarely on the other’s shield and exploding from the impact. They rode their horses back towards the ends of the lists and snatched up new lances. They turned and rode again, to the same effect. “What say we push them a little harder, we seem to be evenly matched, Ser.” Ser Mychel called out as the second lance exploded against his shied. Ser Grant nodded, and the two again returned to their sides to retrieve a new lance. This time they pushed their horses as hard as they could and when they came crashing together Ser Mychel’s lance struck the center of Ser Grant’s shield and exploded.
The griffin knight’s lance hit the inner edge of Ser Mychel’s white shield, and his lance crashed into the white knight’s breastplate, nearly knocking him from the saddle. Ser Mychel held his seat, although his upper body lurched backward over his horse’s rear. He sat up and laughed. “Perhaps we’re less evenly matched than I thought, Ser. Let us ride until one loses his seat.”
The two rode against each-other half a dozen more times before Ser Grant was struck cleanly in his breastplate and went sailing off his horse’s back onto the ground. He stood, laughing and rubbing his head, as Ser Mychel dismounted. “Well struck Ser, and I thank you for the practice.” The kingsguard laughed also, as the two men led their horses back to the stables. They rubbed the beasts down, and fed them both several carrots and apples before retiring to their respective quarters to rest for the tourney, which begun in a few days.
Ser Mychel Lannister improves to Expert Horseman
Ser Mychel Lannister improves to Noteworthy Lance
Ser Grant Connington improves to Expert Horseman
Ser Grant Connington improves to Apprentice Lance
Ser Mychel thought for a moment that it was one of his Sworn Brothers, but then noticed red mixed in with the white of his garb. The man turned at the sound of Ser Mychel approaching, and the white knight made out two griffins on the man’s tunic. The griffin-knight bowed his head when Mychel approached, before speaking. “Greetings, Ser. It is always an honor to meet one of the Kingsguard. I am Ser Grant Connington.”
Ser Mychel took his hand, and shook it. “Ser Mychel Lannister, and I must say that your reputation precedes you, Ser Grant. I heard about your victories in northern Dorne, while I was fighting in the south.” Ser Mychel remembered something else about the griffin knight. “You have my condolences, as well, though. Your brother’s skill with the blade was widely known, and his loss is surely one that the realm will miss.”
A sour look crossed Ser Grant’s face, at the mention of his brother’s death, but it passed quickly. “And you have mine, Ser. You lost a brother just as I did from that… incident. Ser Tytos Blackwood was a great man, and his life was cut short needlessly.” The two men stood in awkward silence for a few moments before Ser Grant spoke again. “So, Ser, will you be participating in the tourney?”
“Aye, I will, in all of the events, except for the sailing-race. I’m not bad on the deck of a ship, but I am sure the Ironborn will dominate that competition. Will you?” Ser Mychel responded. Ser Grant nodded, and fed his horse an apple.
“I am not a fan of ranged fighting, so I will only be jousting and at the melee. Would you like to get in a few practice runs before the tourney begins?” The white knight grinned in response to Grant’s inquiry and began to saddle his horse. The two men led their hoses out of the stables and over towards the lists that were currently empty. They rode to opposite ends, and then turned and spurred their horses. The two destriders thundered down the lists, as the men sitting in their saddles both couched their lances.
The two crashed together, both lances striking squarely on the other’s shield and exploding from the impact. They rode their horses back towards the ends of the lists and snatched up new lances. They turned and rode again, to the same effect. “What say we push them a little harder, we seem to be evenly matched, Ser.” Ser Mychel called out as the second lance exploded against his shied. Ser Grant nodded, and the two again returned to their sides to retrieve a new lance. This time they pushed their horses as hard as they could and when they came crashing together Ser Mychel’s lance struck the center of Ser Grant’s shield and exploded.
The griffin knight’s lance hit the inner edge of Ser Mychel’s white shield, and his lance crashed into the white knight’s breastplate, nearly knocking him from the saddle. Ser Mychel held his seat, although his upper body lurched backward over his horse’s rear. He sat up and laughed. “Perhaps we’re less evenly matched than I thought, Ser. Let us ride until one loses his seat.”
The two rode against each-other half a dozen more times before Ser Grant was struck cleanly in his breastplate and went sailing off his horse’s back onto the ground. He stood, laughing and rubbing his head, as Ser Mychel dismounted. “Well struck Ser, and I thank you for the practice.” The kingsguard laughed also, as the two men led their horses back to the stables. They rubbed the beasts down, and fed them both several carrots and apples before retiring to their respective quarters to rest for the tourney, which begun in a few days.
Ser Mychel Lannister improves to Expert Horseman
Ser Mychel Lannister improves to Noteworthy Lance
Ser Grant Connington improves to Expert Horseman
Ser Grant Connington improves to Apprentice Lance