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Post by Lord Howland Royce on Sept 12, 2008 17:12:16 GMT -5
The master of the Mistfort's small stable, Grenn, sits in between Walter and Timon, though considerably closer to the former than the latter. "Will you be entering the lists, Walter?" Grenn asks, tearing off a hunk of bread and dipping it in some grease. "Yes, I think I will. It's been a while since the last time though," Walter sais and get a far away look in his eyes. |
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Rumor
Hedge Knight
Posts: 288
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Post by Rumor on Sept 12, 2008 20:00:26 GMT -5
Raif Halfhunter rode into the Mistfort on his squat pony, Bear. He had not been lost, he told himself, but nevertheless he had breathed a hoarse sigh of relief on seeing the single tower jut above the trees, and had made straight for it.
Cursing profusely about saddlesores -- he ached in all the wrong places-- he handed his reins to the groom before going to see about some breakfast. He could find out where the hell he was when his stomach was full.
A man has to have priorities.
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Post by Horas on Sept 13, 2008 14:46:09 GMT -5
"And then when would I see you?" Colette asked tentatively, as thought to expose the inate flaw of his plan, "No," she continued with a reasuring smile before he had time to answer, "I am happy to be here." "If you insist," Victor says with a sigh, though it quickly gives way to another smile. "But you simply must come to this tournament with me. You can travel with us as a maid for my sister or some such; father is always saying she should have more attendants." |
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Post by Horas on Sept 13, 2008 15:19:23 GMT -5
Grenn claps Walter on the back good-naturedly. "It'll all come back soon enough, no doubt. I hear fat old Lynderly is offering a nice plump purse for the winner. Gold like that would be enough to set up a man proper, with a nice big house and a pretty little wife," Grenn says wistfully.
The stablemaster is interrupted by a heavy pounding on the table. Ser Hugh Norbury rises from his seat at the head of the table. His fiery red hair has turned mostly to grey, but thick corded muscle still covers his frame.
"You've all heard of this tourney of Lynderly's by now," Ser Hugh says. His voice is powerful, but a hint of a coarse peasant accent is still audible in his speech. "We leave for it by noon. And know this! I'll give ten silver stags to any man among you who unseats one of those Belgrave bastards in the joust or the melee! It's past time Marrick learns his house is all but dead, and the Norburys are the first among Lord Lynderly's bannermen!"
Cheering erupts from the benches. Despite the youth of his house, Ser Hugh was wealthy enough to back up his promises of coin.
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Post by Horas on Sept 13, 2008 15:43:55 GMT -5
Raif Halfhunter rode into the Mistfort on his squat pony, Bear. He had not been lost, he told himself, but nevertheless he had breathed a hoarse sigh of relief on seeing the single tower jut above the trees, and had made straight for it. Cursing profusely about saddlesores -- he ached in all the wrong places-- he handed his reins to the groom before going to see about some breakfast. He could find out where the hell he was when his stomach was full. A man has to have priorities.The groom takes Raif's horse, and he makes it to the dining hall in time to hear Ser Hugh's speech. Ser Wendel Waxshield walks in behind him. "A new face, eh? What's your name, stranger?" The candle knight asks. |
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Post by Lord Howland Royce on Sept 13, 2008 16:33:47 GMT -5
Walter cheered with the rest of the men. "Well, Grenn even if I don't win I'll be sure to knock down one Belgrave man or two. Wouldn't really need the extra incentive though," he chuckled.
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Post by Horas on Sept 14, 2008 16:11:51 GMT -5
Grenn grins. "If I had any skill with the lance I'd be out there with you. Best of luck to you, Walter."
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Post by Lord Howland Royce on Sept 16, 2008 15:45:12 GMT -5
"Thank you, Grenn," Walter sais then thinks for a while. "I better start practicing".
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Post by Fel on Sept 16, 2008 18:12:24 GMT -5
Timon hears Walter's comment and snorts, "aye, ya better. I've seen ya in the yard. The only way yer coin purse is gonna be any heavier after the tourney is if'n the Belgraves send their own in blindfolded and bound."
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Post by Lord Howland Royce on Sept 17, 2008 8:01:35 GMT -5
Walter flushed red and looked at Timon, "You watch your mouth, mountain shit"
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Post by Fel on Sept 17, 2008 16:26:52 GMT -5
"Or what'll ya do? Drink yerself silly and shit yer breeches?" Timon asked raspily.
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Post by Lord Howland Royce on Sept 18, 2008 8:53:13 GMT -5
Walter turned redder, nearly shaking a bit before he stood up angrily, the chair scraping against the floor, and left the hall for the training yard.
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Post by Fel on Sept 18, 2008 9:17:16 GMT -5
Timon grunted and went back to his meal.
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Post by Horas on Sept 18, 2008 16:20:30 GMT -5
As the men finish their breakfast, the hall turns into a bustle of activity as everyone finishes up last minute preparations before leaving. Food and drink is packed away, Ser Hugh's tourney pavillion is rolled up, and the horses are saddled and ready to go.
Ser Hugh rides at the head of the group. His two sons trail behind him in the main column, mixing with the other tourney-goers. But it his daughter Annalise that catches the eye of every man in attendance. Slender and delicate with soft blond curls and large blue eyes, Annalise has had no lack of suitors since flowering -- but each has been bluntly turned away by her father. Rumor has it that Ser Hugh is hoping to marry her to a great lord of the Vale.
The party of tourney goers sets off towards Sunkenwood at noon.
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Hope you all are well and happy.