The Melee Field

[Lord Rhaegar Targaryen]

Not long before the melee begins.

[Lord Rhaegar Targaryen]

Ser Galahad, and Ser Betram stand together talking. Galahad nods to those who pass, occassionally striking up conversation with them.

They are meanwhile seeking out their Lord Commander.

[Sam]

Ser Mychel is sitting on a rock not far from the melee field, sharpening his greatsword with a whetstone. Lying in the grass at his feet is a replica of the weapon, with visibly dulled edges. The Lord Commander's eyes are constantly moving, taking in information around him and watching his opponents, many of whom are practicing before the event begins, seeking the knowledge that would let him best them if and when they crossed swords.

He saw two of his sworn brothers walking toward him, and he continued to sharpen his sword in slow steady strokes.

[Lord Rhaegar Targaryen]

"Hello, Ser Mychel," Galahad said warmly before the elder. "I was not sure if you would participate today, though I suppose I should have expected no less. Would you fight with us today?"

[Sam]

Ser Mychel smiled slightly at his sworn brother's words, but the smile became a frown. "Certainly Ser, although I have a bad feeling about this melee. I intend to keep an eye on his grace, and I am sure I do not need to remind you of your duty to do the same, despite the setting. It makes me nervous to have him participate at all, but I suppose I am just becoming a Mother Hen in my old age and you know as well as I that there's no reasoning with that man." As he spoke his hands kept moving the whetstone along the swordblade, honing the edge over and over to a razor sharpness.

[Lord Rhaegar Targaryen]

Galahad nodded, though frowned also. "I do not trust those men completely, though they are friends to his grace," he said, but cut himself off. Friends to his grace, but not protectors....

[Lord Rhaegar Targaryen]

////

"Well done!" Galahad says, after regaining himself and helping his comrades up from the ground. He makes his way over to the victor and congratulates him.

[Fel]

The large, old warrior Nors Netley has already acquired an ale and is chugging it to quench his thirst by the time Ser Galahad reaches him. He lets the tankard drop to the ground when empty and belches loudly. He looks at the kingsguard as he approaches him as if the man had three heads.

"I've fought better," he said simply in reply.

[Viea Greyjoy]

////////////////

Haley was watching the events in the gauntlet, she was interested, but her mind was elsewhere.

[Ser Aemon Tully]

Orillion had been watching a lovely young girl and finally decided to talk to her. He walked over hand leaned against the rail,"Hello and your name is?"

[Viea Greyjoy]

She looked almost suprised at Orillion. "Haley Dawnrose." She replied with a small smile, "And yourself?"

[Ser Aemon Tully]

"Orillion Drumm", he said with a wink,"so what could a nice reachgirl want with the melee yard?"

[Viea Greyjoy]

She smiled grimly. "It saves me from being near my brother at the moment, and I'm fed up with having to be inside all the time, this is the only place you can actually se open sky, albeit a little."

[Ser Aemon Tully]

"Luckily I'm an only child",Orillion said," and your right being in the yard is definitely better than being stuck in side. But while your here why not put the yard to good use?"

[Viea Greyjoy]

She cocked her head to the left. "What do you mean?"