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Post by The Flint on Nov 18, 2008 23:44:45 GMT -5
Cyrus move quickly, feinting, dodging Ambrose's flashing sword. He fought with a rage, tight and intense, like fire dancing in the palm of a pyromancer. He didn't speak when he scored a hit against the Kingsguard, only exhale with slight relief, before feinting again.
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Post by Sam on Nov 18, 2008 23:47:09 GMT -5
"No harm shall come to the people of the Reach while I yet breathe, my lord. I swear this to you, in the eyes of gods and men," Samuel said fervently.
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Post by Tallahar on Nov 18, 2008 23:47:43 GMT -5
William forced his sword again into a break of the plate mail of Ser Wylde. William knew he not only fought for his family and the Mander but for the peace of the realm.
Callen and Damin knew what to do if he didn't survive this fight. He only hopped it wouldn't happen.
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Post by The Flint on Nov 18, 2008 23:49:15 GMT -5
"Be prepared... in case... They do not honor... their word." Hightower says, reaching out to hold on to Loren's hand as his back spasmed with pain.
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Post by Sam on Nov 19, 2008 0:04:37 GMT -5
Lord Robert smiles grimly as he ripostes after parrying one of the Myrish warrior's axe strikes, flicking Fury under the man's defenses where the sharp steel cut a cutting a red line across his armor.
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Post by The Flint on Nov 19, 2008 0:05:11 GMT -5
Cyrus winced, as the blade cut through the mail guarding his joints. He kept his shield up to protect his injured side, and bite his lip hard enough that blood came forth. "Root them out." He muttered sternly, stepping forward to do battle again.
Osney danced away from the King's blade, but too slowly, blood seeping from his side. "Shove those antlers up your arse Dirty Deer." He said scowling.
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Post by The Flint on Nov 19, 2008 0:19:49 GMT -5
"Lookout girls, that doe is rabid!" Osney japed, blood leaking from a half a dozen cuts.
Cyrus was slowing, from bloody cuts, but he could still keep ahead of Ambrose. He slashed his blade into the man. "Roland ROYCE!" He howls.
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Post by The Flint on Nov 19, 2008 0:43:17 GMT -5
As the blade sliced through Osney's juglar, it occurred to him, that as the King's Master of Arms for over 15 years... he'd done his job too well. Far too well.
"Tell the wench..." he sputtered, "the babe's not mine. Looks nothing like me!" he said. Than he died.
Cyrus put his blade through at the joint under Ambrose's arm. it sank deep into him, and the Lord Weasel saw the light go out of the man's eyes. He turned and searched the field.
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Post by Sam on Nov 19, 2008 0:45:47 GMT -5
Lord Tarly circles the Myrish warrior wearily, sweat pouring down his neck and back. Fury clanged against the man's axe, denting the steel but not able to find its way past Tides' defenses.
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Post by The Flint on Nov 19, 2008 0:54:23 GMT -5
Cyrus howled as Massey's spear plunged through his side, its wicked red point appearing briefly before him. He struggled to keep his blade up, as he turned and gazed at the Red Pool.
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Post by Sam on Nov 19, 2008 1:00:20 GMT -5
Samuel paced back and forth on the sidelines, snarling as he saw his father take another strike from the strange Myrish weapon.
Lord Robert staggered backward and barely parry the man's next attack, though he managed to turn the axe aside so that it sliced a red line down his already wounded shield-arm, rather than decapitating him.
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Post by Lord Rhaegar Targaryen on Nov 19, 2008 1:07:54 GMT -5
Galahad stands nearby, praying silently to the Seven, astonished at the balance of the battle, for he thought the fight would be lopsided for the Crown from the beginning.
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Post by The Flint on Nov 19, 2008 1:15:07 GMT -5
Cyrus tried to move his sword hand and found that it wouldn't move. He held his shield up inadequately. Finding no other recourse, he prayed, "Oh Mother, mercy please..."
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Post by Sam on Nov 19, 2008 1:21:49 GMT -5
Lord Robert speaks for the first time since the fight started, calling out to his opponent, "Why does such a skilled warrior from across the sea fight for a tyrant like Rodrick?" His sword still danced in front of him, blocking Tides' blows though still unable to land one of his own. Both men moved noticeably slower than they had when the fight began.
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Post by Horas on Nov 19, 2008 1:29:03 GMT -5
Tides smiles weakly, blood trickling slowly from his wounds. "Why does a Westerosi lord fight against his own king, a masterful warrior like Rodrick?"
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Hope you all are well and happy.